Logan hadn't lied to Rogue, everything was okay between them. Despite what had taken place in the alley, they fell back into the routine they had established before that night. She knew sometimes she stared too long at his lips or bit her lip when he looked at her a certain way. Sometimes she saw desire flare in his eyes, but they both strived to maintain a balance.
She entertained the possibility that she was in love with him. For the present, she was content to let things be. Given a little more time they might work their relationship in a different direction, but right now she needed to earn a living.
It had been a week since Rogue took her day off and things were back to as normal as they could be for her. She'd had a few odd dreams after the slight pull on Logan. There was no way to tell what were real memories and what were dreams. When she asked he'd told her it was complicated. She'd laughed, asking what wasn't complicated about him. He'd snorted and promised to tell her someday.
A second week came and went. One of the other waitresses needed the day shift and Rogue had traded her for the graveyard shift. She'd napped through supper and Logan had walked her to work on his way to the fights. He said he would come in for an early breakfast afterward.
She'd expected him to come directly from the fights. By three a.m. she was bored and wished he would show up. All the morning prep work was complete and she was even starting to do jobs the other shifts usually did. When six o'clock rolled around she'd worked herself up with all the reasons why he hadn't shown. Including being abducted by aliens, because with Logan one never knew.
Rogue zipped out the door as soon as her shift was over. She practically ran to the motel, she even took the stairs two at a time to reach his room faster. She didn't care if she was out of breath and panting when he answered the door. At least he would be answering the door with a stupid excuse like he fell asleep and that he would make it up to her.
After knocking on the door, she tried to smooth her frazzled hair and tuck it all neatly behind her ears. She knocked again and was rewarded with a muffled sound from the other side of the door. An image of Logan dragging himself from bed and answering the door in nothing but his jeans and sleep-tousled hair crossed her mind. When no further sounds emitted from his room she became concerned again.
Stepping back, Rogue examined the door, though she was unsure exactly what she was looking for. Then she saw it, blood on the door and the doorjamb around the knob. She knocked a third time, louder and calling his name at the same time. Once again she heard the muffled sound.
That couldn't be good. Searching her uniform she found her ID and forced the lock like Logan had shown her. Or at least she thought she had, but the door wouldn't budge.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she studied the door again. She had opened it, but there was something heavy placed in front of the door that would not allow it to swing any further. Rogue leaned on the door, nudging it enough to get a hand in. Whatever was on the other side was like a dead weight.
This time, she put her back to the door and was able to make the opening wide enough to peek in the room. The dead weight was Logan. He was laying face down on the floor, and although she couldn't see his lower half, she guessed his feet were braced against the door.
"Logan?" No response. "Sugar, I need you to move your feet so I can open the door."
There was a slow shuffling; scraping sound and Rogue was able to shove the door so that she could squeeze through. She came to a halt right inside the door.
Logan was prostrate on the floor in a pool of blood.
"My God, Logan." She moved around to kneel beside his head. He was making a raspy, gurgling noise. "What happened?"
"I missed breakfast with my woman." His voice was barely audible.
"That's not funny Logan." She started to stand up. "I'm calling an ambulance."
"No!" The command was clear, followed by him trying to push himself off the floor and failing miserably. He began coughing and the gurgling was worse.
"Okay, okay. But I need to do something." She assessed his condition. He had six holes, bullet holes, in his back. There was possibly another one or two on his legs; it was hard to tell with all the blood. His right arm was outstretched with metal blades protruding from them. She decided these were the claws he'd spoken of. His other arm was trapped underneath his body, so she didn't know if there was anything else.
"My healing will kick in soon."
"Well, it isn't and you have me scared." She was trying to keep the panic out of her voice.
"It will. The Drops need to wear off."
That could be only one thing. "You took Drops. That drug mutants use to hide their mutation?"
"Yeah. They don't let mutants fight."
"You dumbass." She really wanted to hit him, but she didn't think it would make an impact at this point. "Did someone at the warehouse do this to you?"
"No. Happened on the way back." He paused sucking in a breath. She heard a 'bubbling' sound coming from one of bullet holes in his back. "It's complicated."
"When aren't things complicated with you?" she asked in frustration. He laughed which turned into another coughing fit that frightened her.
"I'll be back in a minute." Rogue jogged down the hall to the hotel's supply room for housekeeping. Using her newly acquired skills she jimmied the lock. If her waitress gig didn't pan out, she was certain she was developing the skill set needed to become a thief.
She liberated as many towels as she could carry. Hurrying back to Logan's room, she struggled to stuff herself and the towels through the opening. Piling the towels near Logan, she stripped down to her leggings and long sleeved top. She neatly laid her uniform over the desk chair and shucked her shoes there as well. She didn't have the time to spend getting blood out of her uniform. The guilt hit her with how callous that seemed while he lay bleeding on the floor, but no matter what happened to Logan she needed to earn a living because she wasn't ready to become a thief.
Rogue kneeled beside the arm tucked under his body and informed him what she was planning to do. "First, I need to get your clothes off."
He smirked and she blushed. She rolled him far enough to pull his arm out. Luckily his claws were sheathed on this hand. She worked his jacket off his left side and went to pull it from his right hand. "Sugar, your claws are out and I can't get your sleeve over them."
Logan grimaced but flexed his arm and the blades slowly retracted.
"Why do you use them if it hurts?" she asked, getting his jacket off.
Giving his best impersonation of a shrug, he answered, "Life is full of pain."
Rogue stopped for a moment. His statement, and the way he said it with a mixture of such nonchalance and resignation saddened her. She didn't know how to respond to that, so she simply kissed him softly on the temple. Someday she would try to press him for an explanation and maybe even help him heal whatever wounds were causing him that kind of pain. But for now, she had other wounds she had to tend to.
She stood up and tossed his jacket into the tub along with the towels she'd used to mop up the blood on the linoleum. The process of bandaging him up was taking too long, but he'd been adamant about no help.
"Let's get you rolled over." She knelt back down and with some added assistance from Logan she got him on his back. He smiled up at her and she closed her eyes in frustration and shook her head at him. "You've been mostly dead all day," she mumbled.
His brows knit together. "What?"
"This..." She waved her hand to indicate him. "...reminded me of a movie." Rogue grabbed a washcloth and went to wet it. "Let me clean your face while I decide the best way to get your shirt off."
He was compliant, not that he had a choice, and let her get the blood out of his hair also. "Not great, but it will have to do." She began to inch his shirt up, but as hard as it had been to turn him, getting his shirt over his head might be impossible.
"Rip it off. You know you want to, Marie." He topped the statement off with a wink. "Seriously, it already has a bunch of holes in it."
Of course, he was right. Rogue grabbed the material near one of the holes and pulled. The shirt ripped easily enough, the toughest part being the seams and hems. She retrieved a couple more wet washcloths and began the task of cleaning his chest. Once clean, or as clean as she could get open wounds, she counted seven holes.
"I need to make sure the bullets all came out. Do you think you can help me turn you again, to your side?" It didn't matter if he could help; she was going to need to turn him anyway.
When Logan was on his side, she straddled his hip to help him balance. He helped a little more that time, so she reasoned his healing factor must be rebounding. She removed the shirt, then cleaned his back and the floor. Finally, she counted the holes, six.
That figured. She pressed around his back, visually lining up the holes in his chest to those in his back. "I need to call someone to get this bullet out of your back."
"No. You're doing fine. There's a knife in my pocket. Get it and cut the bullet out." Rogue sighed heavily at him. "Marie, it would take someone longer to get here than for you to do it."
Giving into his request, she reached into his pocket and pulled out a multi-tool. She'd been waiting for him to make a sexually tinged remark, but he didn't this time. Maybe he was sensing her frustration and didn't want to push it.
Opening the multi-tool, she selected a knife she thought would do the job. "Ready?" she asked.
"Always. Are you?" His voice was sounding stronger. Still raspy, but without the hint of breathing difficulties that had been there earlier.
"No, but I don't have much choice." She tilted him further forward and made a cut under his shoulder blade. It was easier to do than she expected and there wasn't near the amount of blood that she thought there would be, but he might have no more blood thinking of what she had cleaned up. She made the hole big enough to put her index finger inside and probe around a bit.
When she located the bullet she rearranged the multi-tool so the needle nose pliers could be used. Then she had to widen the cut so the pliers would fit.
"Are you still with me, Sugar?" Rogue found that using a term of endearment kept her calm and it was better than dumbass. Dumbass was reserved for being mad and when she was mad her hands shook. Right now she needed steady hands.
"Yeah." His voice was strained and she knew she needed to get this over and done with.
Wrestling the bullet out, she laid it and the tool to the side. She cleaned his back again and noticed the other wounds had almost quit bleeding. Spreading two more towels on the floor, she put him down on his back on top of them. Using a couple more towels she made a bandage that wrapped around his upper torso. It wasn't as tight as she would have liked but it would work.
Rogue sat back on her haunches and stared toward the bed. Now for the hard part. "We need to get up. Do you think you can help?"
Logan pushed up on his elbows and held the position for several seconds before easing back down. "I'll give it a go."
"Bear with me, I have an idea." She straddled his hips. "Get back up on your elbows."
He lifted his eyebrows but did as he was told.
She leaned over, resting her chest on his and wrapped her arms around his back. With him pushing and her pulling, Logan made it into a sitting position. Rogue rested her forehead on his shoulder while he braced himself up with his arms.
"Marie…" It was a whisper in her ear. There was something in his voice, and it wasn't the pain she'd heard earlier.
"Don't…do not tell me what this position is doing for you. I know and I promise you can show me later if we both make it through this."
His hot breath was on her ear, stubble exciting the sensitive skin of her neck. "I'll hold you to that promise."
She sat back to look him in the eye. "I hope so." She watched him battle the smile on his lips, some coping mechanism he had. Back to matters at hand. "Any ideas, cause I've never been good at deadlifting."
They decided to use the nearest wall as an aid and with a little scrambling; he was propped up against the wall. Rogue made sure the floor was clean and dry and then removed his worn army boots and socks so he'd have better traction with his bare feet.
After huffing and puffing, Logan leaned heavily against the wall. They were both worn out, but at least he was standing or rather in a somewhat vertical position. She feared that his wounds may have reopened, but he assured her they hadn't. Since the towels around his chest were still their dingy white color with no red appearing she dropped the subject.
Moving him to the bed was easier than she anticipated. She didn't so much as walk him to the bed as they did a drunken lurch there. Once beside the bed, she began to unfasten his belt buckle and jeans.
"Marie?"
"With all the blood on you jeans, I need to make sure there aren't other bullet holes." She didn't see what he was protesting about.
His arms were working well enough to hold his pants in place. "Everything's intact."
Her brow furrowed. Intact? What was he talking about?
Logan raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't need to check my junk."
Oh! She felt the heat sear her cheeks; she opened and closed her mouth several times before she found her voice. "No, you can keep your boxers. I need to check your legs."
At that he let her pull his jeans down and help him sit on the bed. He flopped to the side and she put his legs up on the bed and got his jeans all the way off. Rogue quickly examined his legs and found nothing that needed bandaging. She peeked under the towels on his chest, the bleeding had been minimal.
"Logan, there has to be someone I can call." She was still concerned what she'd done wasn't enough and his healing factor wasn't as good as he thought.
"Phone's in my jacket." He pointed back toward the bathroom.
Rogue took his jeans with her to add to the pile of bloody items in the bathtub. She went through the pockets of his jacket; besides his phone, she found cash from last night's fight and a handful of foil wrappers. She put them on the counter and took the phone to Logan.
"If I'm not better in two hours dial the phone number and ask for Hank or Jeannie."
"Which number?" she asked, turning on the phone.
"You'll figure it out." He relaxed into the bed.
His phone wasn't password protected and the only thing on it was a single contact marked X. Well; there was one thing about Logan that wasn't complicated.
Looking up from the phone she studied him as he fell asleep. Hades, ruler of the underworld...in some ways Logan could pass for a Greek god. He definitely had the physical build of one of those chiseled statues and the supposed immortality to go with it. Though she decided that his face was more rugged and less radiant than the gods were usually depicted.
She had so little to offer a man like Logan; even their one date had been on his dime. Only by betting on him had she been able to put aside some extra money. Then again, maybe he was only looking for companionship. The Greek god, up from the underworld, looking for a place to fit in. The tears stung her eyes; this Persephone was falling in love.
Gathering the rest of his personal items, she put them on the desk within easy reach. Sitting around watching him sleep for two hours was going to drive her crazy, there was plenty she could do. Keeping busy would help ground her in reality and not allow her to daydream about life as a consort to a Greek god.
Rogue cleaned the floor again then rinsed out all of the towels. She was able to sneak them into the motel laundry room and pick up some fresh towels without being seen.
Logan's jacket was another story. The blood rinsed out reasonably well, but being leather she was skeptical about using anything to clean it. Then again he may not want to wear it with the new ventilation holes.
Rinsing out his jeans, she looked down at her own clothes. She breathed out heavily; at least she managed to keep her uniform clean. Stripping down and putting clean water in the tub, she washed everything as best she could. She then took a quick shower.
Afterward, she hung the wet clothes over the shower rod to dry. His leather jacket she let drip in the closet area since there was nothing else there. She checked Logan's bandages; the wounds were smaller and no longer bleeding. He was resting peacefully and she doubted she would need to call for help.
There was nothing left for her to do but wait for him to heal. She was dead tired from the night shift and fixing up Logan. Throwing the towel she'd been wearing around toward the bathroom, she wrapped herself in the comforter. Rogue lay down on the other side of the bed to rest for just a second.
Snuggling closer, she wanted to be able to hear him breathing, to know that he was on the mend. She put a hand on his chest to feel his heart beating steadily, another reassurance that he wasn't going to be recalled to the underworld and leave her alone. If he did leave, would he take her with him? Questions for another time she told herself. Right now, he was here.
~*~
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