West Wing
3:21 am
“Are ya just gonna stand there or are ya gonna come in,” she asked him without as much as turning around to look at him. She was in pain, she was hungry, and she needed to shower. Was that too much to ask, she thought to herself as she went straight to her closet, throwing both doors open and tossing in her boots. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Logan was still hovering at the door, his hands in his pockets deciding on what to do. He responded with nothing more than a low grunt, closing the door behind him as he scanned the room for a place to sit, probably anywhere as long as he didn’t have to sit on her bed. Why was that even a problem, she continued to think to herself. She’d sat on his bed countless of times before she left.
“Ah’ll try to be fast,” she warned him as she slipped into the bathroom, tossing her day’s clothes in the bamboo hamper. She came back out, a pale hand holding her ribs as she went to the dresser, fumbling through several doors as she pulled out black lace, a gray sports bra and gray pajama pants. As she slipped back into the bathroom, she called over her shoulder, “The remote control is on the nightstand, you can sit on the armchair, the ottoman is somewhere near the balcony,” she closed the bathroom door with more force than she intended using.
She closed the toilet seat, setting her clean clothes in the seat before turning to stare at herself in the mirror. Dark circles had begun to form under her eyes, not dare enough for many to noticed but dark enough for Logan to notice. Nothing went unnoticed by him, ever. She ran the back of her hand under her nose as she pulled aside the clear shower curtain, making sure the bleeding had ceased. She pulled the tank top over her head as smoothly and as gently as she could, slowly breathing in and out to keep from whimpering. She had less trouble slipping out of the green scrubs and underwear; quickly tossing them into the hamper before she turned back to open the shower spray.
She stepped under the cold shower spray; her arms wrapped around herself as she inclined her head forward, her eyes closed as she tried to relax. Logan was right. What if this, what this was, became a frequent thing…something she couldn’t control just like her skin? How was she going to look after Adam? Maybe she’d jumped at the idea too fast, she hadn’t thought about it. The Professor had been right too. She wasn’t ready, she was too young, and she wasn’t married. Hell, Jubes or Storm could do a better job. She shook her head in frustration, growling. When the hell did I become such a pessimist, she questioned herself.
“I’ll tell you when,” Carol answered. She screamed, her eyes quickly snapping open.
“Go away,” she cried.
“No,” the woman replied.
“Marie? Kid? Are you alright in there,” Logan banged on the door, quickly demand an answer. She turned to the door, nodding her head even if he couldn’t see her.
“Yeah, yeah,” she breathed. “Just washin’ mah hair,” she lied, hopping he’d believe her.
“Are you sure,” Logan and Carol’s voice echoed together in her head.
”Face it, Rogue,” Carol taunted her. “You aren’t alright in here,” she tapped the side of her head. “You’re losing it, and you’re losing it fast. Do you still think the poor Professor can save you? You aren’t Jean,” she told her. “And they don’t care about you.”
“Marie,” Logan growled from the other side of the door as he waited for her answer before bursting in.
“Yeah,” she replied again. By then silent tears had begun to escape the corner of her eyes, blending themselves with the pouring shower above her head. By the time she finished showering and getting dressed, her eyes were puffy and she was shuddering.
She opened the bathroom door, going straight for the dresser to brush her hair when Logan stopped right in front of her, blocking her path as he looked down at her. A deep frown marring his manly and careless expression.
“What the hell happened in there,” he asked her. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to get past him but he continued to block her. Without any other option she looked up at him and sighed.
“Carol happened. Now can Ah brush mah hair,” she sassed him. “Er do ya wanna do it fer meh,” she arched a brow, one hand on her hip.
“Smartass,” he mumbled as he moved to the balcony to light the cigar he kept in his shirt pocket.
“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled too as she brushed her hair, parting it down the middle before quickly braiding it. “Hey Logan,” she called to him.
“Ya were right,” she sighed again before turning to look at him. “Ah can’t look after Adam. Not when Ah can’t control this, she looked away ashamed of herself. “Ah…Ah don’t wanna see him get hurt because of meh.”
Logan’s large frame stiffened for a moment before he turned to look at her, chewing one end of the cigar, before pointing it in her direction. “Yer gonna give up that easily,” he arched a brow. “Yer not even gonna try?”
“Try," she snorted. Is this what ya think this is ‘bout,” she frowned. “Giving up,” she crossed her arms under her breast. “Ya think Ah don’t care ‘bout the boy? Yer wrong,” she said stubbornly as she spun back to the mirror, trying to hide her anger.
“Then what is it, kid? Make up you’re damned mind,” he growled, lighting the cigar.
“Ya don’t understand,” she turned to him, growling. “This isn’t ‘bout what Ah want. This is ‘bout helping him. Ah’m already screwed, Logan. That kid still has a chance. If he needs a mother Jubilation or Kitteh or Storm can take of that. I’m sure the Professor knows of a good family willing to adopt him.” He walked back to her, the cigar in one hand as he looked down at her.
“And then what are you gonna do,” he asked her. “I hardly think the Professor is just gonna let you join the team. You’re in no condition, mentally or physically,” he told her straight up. She frowned again, leaning back against the dresser.
“Well, if ya have it all figured out, why don’t ya enlighten meh suga’?”
“We’ll talk to the Professor, we’ll tell him about the woman,” he told her. “He can help you. I’ll help you look after the kid. I’ll stick to ya like the damned Adamantium sticks to my bones,” he offered as he stuck the cigar between his teeth.
“Ah’m not gonna ask ya to promise,” She walked away, “because we both know you don’t exactly keep yer promises,” she taunted him. “But Ah will talk to the Professor at a decent hour this morning,” she turned back to him.
“Shut up and com’ere, kid,” he gestured toward me, as he pulled out the large bandage from his back pocket. Not knowing what to do with the cigar, he put it out in the palm of his hand.
“Logan,” she protested. “Damn it, do ya gotta do that every time ya forget an ash tray,” she walked into the bathroom, and came back holding a clear glass ashtray. “Here, an’ stop doin’ that ya masochist,” she handed it to him.
“Yeah, yeah,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind while I look for you next time you disappear on me.”
He took a closer step toward her, unrolling the thick ace bandage before she screamed, “Wait,” she jumped back. “Aren’t ya gonna wear gloves ‘er something,” she asked him.
“Jesus kid, I’m not gonna touch ya. I’m just gonna wrap this around you,” he told. “And I’m pretty much immune to your mutation, so quite complainin’ and com’ere,” he placed a hand on the small of her back, bring her closer to him as he leaned down to wrap the bandage as quickly as possible. With a small squeal she placed her bare hands on his shoulders to keep herself from bumping into him.
“Ah’ll…Ah’ll remind ya of that next time ya pass out meh ya chuckle-head,” she held her breath as he began to wrap the bandage. “When yer ‘bout done just tug on it and tight it. Ah don’t want it getting lose, Ah’ve gotta busy day ahead,” he looked down at him. He’d placed a hand behind her back again fastening the end of the bandage with one last tug before securing it with a metal fastener.
“That tight enough fer ya,” he arched a brow, before pulling back to look at his handy work. “Turn around,” he instructed, twirling his index finger in the air, urging me to do as he ask. With a sigh, she complied. She slowly turned around in an 360 degree turn before she placed her hands on her hips, frowning.
“Satisfied?”
“No,” he took a step toward her, sticking his fingers between the first layer of the bandage and her skin, unfastening it a bit, just enough so it wouldn’t bother her.
“Now,” she frowned. He nodded his head and turned to look at the clock hanging on the wall behind her.
“You should get some breakfast,” he walked around her and retrieved her green slippers from beside her bed. “Put these on,” he set them down on the floor in front of her, before heading for the door. She quickly wiggled her feet into the slippers and grabbed a clean pair of gloves green gloves from the drawer in her nightstand and a grey hoodie from the closet before she followed Logan to the door.
“Ah took that long, eh,” she curiously turned to look at the clock behind her, noticing it was almost five in the morning.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello meus amigos! Happy Valentines! I decided to re-write this chapter much before posting it, so in eve of Valentine's Day I added some fluff to it. Enjoy!
Chapter End Notes:
Review! Next is her talk with the Professor.