He checked the controls of the jet once more. Summers had begun tutoring them all at the finer arts of piloting a plane. At the beginning it didn’t really matter if Scott was the only one with pilot’s licence, he stayed safely in the jet with Jean while Logan and Marie carried out their gut wrenching agenda. And they all had been immune to Legacy. Those days were far behind. It was now third week of the apocalypse. Three weeks had passed since they had last heard about what was going on back at the home base, and Logan started to wonder if it truly was the right thing to do to abandon them.
Scott was slumbering on the co-pilot’s seat. Marie and Jean were sleeping at the back. The sun was rising, and the view opening from the narrow window in front of him was sickeningly beautiful and calm. Light upper cloud, fragile wads of intangible cotton beneath the jet, sky colouring from black to light shades of red and yellow, airspace clear, no turbulence. Nothing to take his mind off from the fact that during the night he had turned the course painstakingly slowly, inch by inch to distract Scott and now they were flying over heavily contaminated area of New York.
He switched on the auto-pilot, previous programming forcing the jet to fly in wide circle, and leaned back on his seat.
“You do know that we can’t land?” Jean whispered, her breath tickling his earlobe. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth.
“You knew?” He asked with a low voice, trying not to wake up Scott.
“I knew before you made your first move. You’re not the asshole you try to make yourself to be. But I know you’re not stupid, either. If you land now, all three of us will die and you’ll be left alone.”
“I know. I just... Fuck. It doesn’t feel right. They could all be dead as far as we know,” he huffed, swallowing and blinking rapidly. There was a strange lump forming at the back of his throat.
“They are dead, Logan. I felt their deaths a week ago. Professor... He wasn’t sick long, he... He was so fragile... With Hank it took the longest, you know how strong he was, right to the end I thought he’d pull through, then one morning he just disappeared...” Jean struggled not to cry, not to raise her voice.
“Scott doesn’t know. Marie doesn’t know. But I know, and now you know. They’re gone. All of them,” she whispered and retreated back on to the seat she had previously occupied. Logan fought down his instinctual urge to call her a liar. Her scent was telling the truth. He swallowed the bitter disappointment, then programmed a new course, one that would steer them clear of the air space of N.Y. He waited for a longest moment until the radar showed only sea beneath and shook Scott who woke up slightly groggy, none too pleased of the disturbance.
“Take the wheel. I need to talk with Marie,” he grunted and stood up. Scott nodded and started checking up the systems. Logan was already out from the cockpit when Scott’s surprised exclamation drew his attention.
“Logan, you asshole! Didn’t I tell you to stay clear of any bigger cities?”
“That must have slipped from my mind. But it should be all good now, I programmed new coordinates,” he said. He could hear Jean getting up. He was quite sure of her intentions. As he approached sleeping Marie he could hear the door dividing the cockpit from the cabin sliding shut and locking up. Mercurial creature that was Jean’s mind brushed against him briefly, leaving him with a distinct feeling that the doctor wished some privacy for the next couple of hours. It suited him well.
“Kid?” He whispered, hoping to wake her up gently. It was a futile attempt. As soon as her eyes opened she was wide awake, her whole being pulsing from pent up energy and her eyes searching his, her gaze full of questions he could not answer. She opened her mouth to voice out those questions. He pressed his index finger over her full and soft lips to keep the questions at bay, then leaned quickly closer and locked her in to a kiss, hoping to swallow them all.
Eventually they had to break his desperate attempt, if not for else, they needed to breathe. As they parted Marie looked at him, those questions still swirling in her eyes.
“Logan?” She whispered. He shook his head.
“They’re gone, kid. Jean told me. There’s nobody left.”
Instead of crying she nodded, then kissed him. In a way it was pathetic he noted at some level. They were only trying to convince each other from the fact that they were still very much alive and breathing. That notion didn’t prevent him from participating. It didn’t prevent him from taking off her shirt. It didn’t bother him when he suckled and pawed at her breasts, twisting her nipples until she was practically begging him to do something before she screamed. And when he sat down and she straddled him, her hot and tight core swallowing his shaft and her nails digging in to his shoulders he could almost forget the grim reality. There was only scent of her arousal, slick feel of her soft pussy around his cock and his own muffled cries of pleasure as he struggled not to come before she got her release. When she screamed out her pleasure he clamped his palm over her mouth, reluctant to let Scott and Jean in to their semi-private coupling.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000