Chapter 6: Logan
The woman was talking, and he should have been listening. He was, in a way, but the words had little meaning to him. The fan tossed the air around the small office, he could feel the thin paper on the patient table underneath him, but still his mind was far off in memory, a distant dream.
How are the tremors?
Fine, doc.
Really?
I miss the nail with the hammer every once in awhile. That’s all.
You shouldn’t be working.
He had been thinking of Marie swimming. In those precious few weeks in South Africa. The way her body moved, all smooth and lithe as she moved through the water. He had traveled downstairs to watch her most mornings they had been there. She cut through whatever had been bothering her with each slice of her hand, each forward motion.
You know what the trembling means, don’t you?
Yeah, doc, I do.
The heavy metal poisoning is affecting your nervous system.
Yeah.
“Don’t go playing the victim card,” he had growled. And then he had intuitively stepped closer to her, close enough for him to hear every little movement, every little sound her body made. “There are ways around it,” he had said. And then that sharp breath of air as her heart thudded loudly in her chest. “You know there are. And I swear to God I would’ve found a way, Marie, had I wised up enough to have found the fucking chance.”
Logan, if you lose feeling in any of your extremities, I need you to call immediately.
Is that what I have to look forward to next?
Yes.
Fuck.
And there’s more.
“It’s about claiming you, isn’t it?" he had said. She hadn’t responded, instead choosing to look at him meekly. That’s when he knew for sure. "Jesus, Marie, you know about it, don’t you? You know… if I had you, there’d be no end." It wasn’t her skin that had stopped them so long ago on their walk, although it hadn’t certainly helped. For her, for that Marie, it had been the cold: the barren, twisted future that loomed before them, the quickly dying light.
The quickly dying light.
“Logan, do you understand what I’m saying?”
Logan looked up at the woman who was also his doctor in front of him, his mind coming back into focus. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun and there was a no-nonsense look on her face. He liked her. She didn’t sugar coat shit. There was something about her, too, that reminded him a little of Jeannie. Obviously not the mutant part or the telepathy, but something in her clinical detachment. She didn’t have time for platitudes; he liked that. But, unlike Jean, there was nothing more than what it should have always been between them. A doctor and a patient. And he had to hand it to her, because Logan fucking sucked at being one.
“Yeah, doc. We about done?” he asked, as he began buttoning his shirt back up before hopping off the patient table. The woman only frowned, quickly snaking out a pad and scrawling out a perscription for him. Logan frowned as he watched her work.
“More happy pills?” he asked.
“A stronger dose of SSRIs. They’ll help with the depression,” she said simply. Logan’s frown only deepened.
“I’m dying doc. Depression comes with the fucking territory,” he muttered.
“Take it,” she said curtly, handing the small sheet of paper out in front of her. He frowned as he extended his fingers, gingerly taking the slip from her outstretched hand.
“Next month,” she said.
“I’m sure Marie will set it up,” he grumbled, and then he was breathing out steadily as he walked through the lobby and swung open the door, the afternoon sun warming his skin as he sunk the piece of paper into his back pocket.
That afternoon had moved like water, gently flowing around them both. He watched her walk out of that bookstore, silver bracelet winking as it caught the light. God, she was fucking gorgeous. Hair half done up, long tendrils escaping its hold. A thick, cable-knit sweater that kept slipping off one shoulder. A good pair of jeans that hugged her ass. Her no-nonsense hiking boots she had taken to wearing up here, whether they planned on hiking or not. He loved every inch of this woman, so much so that sometimes he almost couldn’t fucking stand it. This woman, who would mother his child, who would take up the empty role without a moment’s pause. Something deep within him rumbled as he saw her. He wanted to bury himself in her and stay there, wanted to drive into her so hard there was no way she’d ever forget what it felt like.
And then, the scent of her arousal, practically knocking him over, as the current of the day picked up, swept them both along. So sweet and thick and heavy and wanting. He had barely made it to that little patch of field, took everything in him to keep it the fuck together while driving. In a rare moment, he felt the old animal ripple beneath at her scent, whining and scratching to be let out, but Logan kept in firm control. Today, on this good day, he wanted to be fully conscious, not some fucking half version of himself. He needed to see her, to speak. And he also wanted her to speak, and he wanted to listen. He wanted to know fucking everything. What she wanted more of. What it felt like for her when her toes curled and she screamed out against him. He needed them to be fucking human beings, through every scratch and thrust and bite and slide of the tongue, even as the moment swelled, even as they lost themselves inside each other.
And then, the connection between them had snapped open. She said it was a mistake, but he wondered. She had been taking him and he felt himself leave, like flying, like the wind picking up a kite and lifting it upward. Like leaving. Like living. He felt it, he felt it all, and he knew then. Knew it deep down. Knew it for good.
--
The drive home had been perfect, the air of the Bronco’s cabin thick with both sunlight and the scent of them both the whole way. Logan was excited to pick up Laura, and the anticipation of doing so swirled together with the steady, peaceful thrum of being with Marie. They had spent the time cracking jokes, her joy so infectious at points his ribs ached from laughter. She was constantly touching him, too. Her hand always rested on his leg or on the back of his neck, massaging the muscles gently and idly as the open road lay sprawled out before them. As the Bronco finally finished making its way up the hill to their house, la casa del lago, as Laura liked to call it, they couldn’t help but smile at each other as he opened the passenger door for her, the gravel from the road still wafting up around the parked truck.
She smirked at him as she hopped out of the car, shutting the door behind her, and he growled as he stepped closer to her. Three hours of keeping his hands on the wheel was no easy fucking feat, especially with his scent all over her still. She giggled slightly as he stalked toward her, snaking his hands around her waist and biting her neck lightly as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He kissed her long and hard in the afternoon light, unwilling to let go, and then he was grabbing her ass, hoisting her up easily with the extra reserves of strength that had lingered within him today. She straddled his legs as he walked them up the deck stairs, his gait only the slightest bit unsteady from the limp in his step as he did so.
He rumbled in approval as they made their way inside, carrying her easily to the bedroom. Logan barely closed the door with his foot before gently backing her up against the far wall and taking a generous bite at the pulse of her neck. She moaned with enthusiasm and he growled approvingly, before ripping his mouth away to speak.
“God, I love the way you fucking smell like me,” he muttered into her neck. She only grinned in response for a moment, running her fingers through his hair.
“Me too. Especially when I can smell like this,” she murmured into his ear. He growled, gripping her ass tighter as he held her against the wall.
“I want you to remember it kid, because I want it on you all the time. I wanna rub it into your fucking pores,” he growled, as he was already pawing at her clothes, the sweater that was already hanging off one shoulder now falling to the floor.
“Still need showers,” she breathily muttered through a grin. “Don’t wanna be late.”
“In that case,” he muttered, hoisting her up again as she giggled. She was ripping off her tank now and then stripping him of his button down as he walked them into the bathroom, all the while simultaneously sucking and tugging on her bottom lip.
“Don’t fall,” she teased as he padded his way onto the tile of the bathroom floor. He only grumbled in response, and minutes later the hot steamy pour of water hit them both as he took her from behind, water dribbling down and pooling at the small of her back as she moaned and writhed underneath him. He made her come easily enough. Once. Twice. Again. And then he was pulling out as he felt himself throb and pulse, choosing to deliberately throw white ribbons of seed on her milky skin, even as the water moved quickly to try and erase them. He shuddered through a steady breath out, and then he was taking a hand to rub it into her skin, even as she slinked back around to face him. A thumb to her mouth, a taste of himself on her tongue. That coy little smile when she was more Rogue than Marie as she savored his taste. And then they both helped clean each other as she drew a loufa over his body, massaging soap into his navel while he rubbed shampoo gently into the temples of her hair and she laughed as he dabbed a dollop of sudsy bubbles on her nose.
After the shower was through, he left her there, wrapped up in a fluffy robe, hair done up in a white towel. She was cradling one foot as she sat on the edge of the bed, watching him shave and then get dressed in a fresh set of jeans. She sauntered over finally to help do the buttons of his shirt even though his hands barely shook at all today, before handing him the keys to the Bronco he had dropped to the floor earlier when he had been carrying her in along with the new phone Dani had given them to give to Laura.
“Go get our girl,” she smiled at him.
“Yes ma’am,” he joked, tapping the door frame as he did so. As he was about to turn, however, he heard her murmur a "Hey" from where she still stood. He stopped, turning back to her, and she cocked an eyebrow at him, before he dutifully returned. She gave him one more chaste kiss, a gentle press of her lips to his that still managed to send to wave of lust through him. He flashed her a grin and walked out of their room, creaking the door just slightly, the way she liked it, before he made his way outside to the Bronco.
---
He couldn’t help but smirk as Laura, eyes wide and heart beating erratically, climbed into the Bronco. He probably should’ve been more upset, more protective at the very least, over the whole little scene he witnessed, but Marie had done a good job of working out any lingering tension he’d had today, and what had transpired between Cole and Laura had been so fucking innocent he could barely feel anything other than amused. The kid was terrified of her, more like a little puppy than a boy, and Logan was surprised and vaguely impressed that Cole had even worked up the courage to text Laura, and had chuckled a bit as he had scampered off after giving Laura his number. Laura seemed just as genuinely surprised as Logan did that the older mutant had been ok with it all and something about her relieved posture as she muttered a “Perfecto” before leaning back into the seat kept Logan’s good mood afloat
The whole drive here he’d been looking forward to getting her. He fucking loved when he got these moments with her, and this afternoon was proving to be no exception. During these trips to fetch her from school, on days when he was feeling up to it, the conversation lingered. Often they’d sit in the drive long after Logan had killed the engine, now that it was warm enough. He wanted today to be one of those days. He wanted as many of these days as he could get his fucking hands on.
“So what happens at these dances of yours?” he asked as he turned the Bronco on to the main road of town. Laura still clutched the phone to her chest as she shrugged her shoulders slightly.
“I dunno. Like Marie said, probably,” she said. “Awkward swaying.” Logan snorted at this, shooting her a look.
“Aren’t the kids talkin’ about it at school?” Logan asked. Laura exhaled dramatically at this, nodding as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear that was escaping the braid Marie had done in her hair this morning.
“That’s all they’re talking about. Las ninas especially. All about what they will wear. Vestidos,” she said with a wave of her hand and a roll of her eyes.
“Vestidos, eh?” Logan clarified, focusing once more on their conversation. “You mean like dresses and shit?” he asked. Laura, god help her, was like him in the fact that she’d settle for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt anytime, although Marie had littered Laura’s wardrobe recently with more options, sweaters and cargo jackets, sneakers and boots. The shopping for the shoes had been especially appreciated, since they had been replaced on multiple occasions, as Laura had the habit of piercing holes in them on hikes or out in the woods by the lake when she felt more at ease to use the claws. At least you never had to worry about that, poking holes in your shoes, Marie had said to Logan one day through a smirk.
“Los vesitdos. Dresses. Muy bien, padre,” Laura said through another smile. “You get an A+. Hablas espanol muy bien.” Logan snorted, although something in him still warmed at her praise.
“Tengo un maestro bien,” he said through a wink. “Now we gotta work on your Japanese. Anata ga shitte iru gengo go oi hodo, anata ni wa yoi.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, through a rumbled brow.
“Learn a bit more, and maybe you’ll find out,” he said through a smirk which Laura returned.
“Puedo hacer lo mismo que hacer. Lo siento, papá, pero aún no sabes todo lo español que hay por saber,” she said through her own grin. Logan caught only every other word, and he couldn’t help but chuckle, still getting her point. Don’t get too ahead of yourself. You’ve got a long way to go. They had been parked at home for a couple of minutes now, but, just like always, even though Logan had killed the engine, he didn’t move to leave the vehicle and, Laura, reading his signs, also stayed put. A little time with just the two of them before they enveloped themselves in the warm, delectable smells coming from Marie’s kitchen and the eventual company they’d have in Kay’s visit at the house tonight. Una tradición de los dias beunas.
“So you gonna go with him?” Logan finally asked. Laura bit her lip thoughtfully, turning to him after some time.
“Maybe,” she said, before adding after a beat or two, “So...was Marie right?”
“About what?” Logan asked.
“Did you dance el Charleston?” she asked hesitantly. Logan couldn’t help but snort at that question, anticipating something a lot more serious than that.
“Not much of my thing, kid,” he muttered. To his surprise, however, Laura persisted with her line of questioning.
“But what about...back then? Los años veinte? Was that before things got bad...before el holocausto mutante?” Logan glanced back at his daughter as he recalled the conversation they had this morning while sparring, and he realized what she was up to. She was fishing for more information.
I’ll tell ya more of it later. Cuando es listo. When you’re ready.
“Hell, kid, it’s never enough for ya, is it?” Logan said through a sigh. “Well, as far as the dancin’s concerned, I got nothin’ for ya. My memories of all that stuff aren’t the greatest.”
“You mean...because of Stryker y la experimentación?” It was then he turned his head sharply to her. Stryker? While Laura knew what had happened, at least partially, he had never given her the name of the man in charge of the Weapon X program before, and he realized where she had likely picked it up. Fucking comic books. Logan let out a low growl. He knew it was one of the reasons she turned to the comics, desperate for more information, desperate for stories from his past, but still. And while Laura would never know everything, Logan was steadily realizing there was a little too much she didn’t know. So much he still had to tell her.
“Yeah, before that,” he muttered, turning forward to take in the view of the lake before them. Laura bit her lip thoughtfully as they both watched the water was singed a murky orange as the sun sank lower in the sky.
“So how come I still remember...before they did it to me?” she asked after some time. Logan swallowed hard, turning to look back at Laura once more.
“I don’t know, hija. I really don’t. But I know there’s more I need to share. But most of that shit’s depressing, yeah? And I don’t wanna ruin what we’ve got goin’ on today,” he said carefully. Laura smiled sadly before nodding once, glancing down at the phone still in her hands. The gesture suddenly had him remembering the other duty he had been tasked with, and a wide grin broke out on his face once more as he fumbled in his coat pocket.
“Hey kid.”
“Sí, daddy?” she asked.
He pulled out the shiny purple smart phone, handing it over to her. Her eyes settled on the device, and a wide smile broke out on her face.
“I wanted to give this to ya before we go inside. Early birthday present. From Dani,” he said through a small smile. Laura’s eyes lit up as she jerked her head up to him once more.
“You saw Dani?” she asked excitedly.
“Yeah, uhh we met her in Fort Smith, before the appointment,” he said, as Laura carefully took the phone from his outstretched palm. She handled it carefully, turning it over a couple of times in her hands, as if it was something precious. Something coveted.
“It’s...more secure.. than the last. It’s also got Dani’s number on it,” Logan sighed, the slightest bit hesitant to reveal the last bit of information to her, but trying to take Dani’s word that she wouldn’t actively try to recruit Laura to Alpha Flight. At least not now. “She said you can text her, if you feel like it. If you need someone else to talk to.”
“Really?” she asked, looking up to him again. He smiled.
“Yeah. Looks like you’ll need to put Cole’s number into that new one, eh?” he asked, and Laura’s cheeks flushed. Logan smiled slightly, and then something in him fell. The ugly truth of the matter is that he’d never know for sure if Laura would join Alpha Flight. It was too far in the future, and Logan wouldn’t likely be around. That was partially the reason behind some of his frustration with Dani earlier today. Laura was a beautiful, wild creature, certainly a force to be reckoned with. And the truth was…He was going to fucking miss it. What she’d look like grown. How she’d be. The challenges she was going to face. God, he was going to fucking miss it all.
Laura was still staring down at the phone in wonder, as Logan muttered her name under his breath once more.
“Listen...Laura,” he said. She looked up to him softly.
“Sí, papa?” she asked.
“Eventually... yer gonna hafta make choices. About who you wanna be.” Laura only blinked at him, before offering him a knowing, coy smile.
“Why you smilin’’?” he asked through a tilt of his head.
“You’re not la persona primera who’s told me that today,” she said.
“Who else said something like that to ya?” Logan asked. Laura fiddled with both phones in her hands now, before nervously tucking a piece of hair behind her ear once more.
“Mrs. Greer. She wants me to go to college,” she said simply. Logan raised his eyebrows at this. Since the IEP, Laura talked little of the counseling sessions with the woman, so this bit of news was a surprise, if the woman’s advice was anything but.
“College, eh?” Logan asked.
“Si. She says I’m una escritor bien,” Laura mumbled. Logan simply nodded in agreement.
“Well she’s right about that. Makes sense, with all yer books you read. So...what do you think about that?” he asked her quietly. Laura said nothing for a minute, simply choosing to stare at the blues and purples of the rippling surface of the lake.
The quickly dying light.
“I need to protect Marie,” she finally muttered under her breath, and something deep inside his gut twisted. The feeling was partially pride that she had heeded his advice, keeping it at the forefront of her mind from this morning, but it was more than that, and Logan realized that it was Laura’s matter-of-factness that was clawing at his heart. She was becoming more comfortable talking about when he’d be gone.
“You can still get more schoolin’ while doing that, right kid?” Logan managed to grind out through the heavy feeling inside of him. Laura paused, eyes still looking forward, before murmuring, “But I like it.”
“Like what?” Logan asked carefully.
“Protecting people,” she muttered. Logan rumbled a bit at that, more contradictory feelings of guilt and pride and grief now churning in his gut.
“I know kid. Sorry...those are my genes,” he muttered.
“Maybe,” Laura said thoughtfully, before turning to him. “But maybe also de mi madre.” That surprised him. Since that night so long ago when he first discovered she had pesadillas the same as him, Laura had not brought up her real mother once. Logan could typically guess why. The mention, however suddenly reminded of the other reason for Dani’s visit and he perked up a bit once more.
“Yeah, maybe. I’d like to think so, hija. Speaking of mothers though… I meant to tell ya the other reasons for Dani’s visit. She dropped off the paperwork.” A familiar spark registered in her eyes as Laura realized what Logan was saying.
“Really?” What did Marie say?” she asked excitedly. Logan nodded his head in the direction the lake house, where he could tell Marie had just flicked on the lights.
“Why don’t you go in there and ask her yourself?” he said. “Marie probably thinks we’ve been eaten by a pack of wolves out here by now anyway. Best go inside and reassure her.” Laura grinned, as she moved to open up the car door. Logan had to walk quickly to keep up with her, and he barely caught the quiet “Es verdad, Marie?” that Laura had uttered, as the smaller girl stopped just inside the open door. Marie looked up and smiled at her.
“Yeah, mi amada. Of course,” was all Marie needed to say, and then Laura was already quickly striding forward to her.
Then Marie was sweeping Laura up into her arms. Then Marie was looking at him, into his fucking soul, as she held Laura close to her, stroking her hair, the back of her head. Then he swallowed hard, stifling a cough as his lungs, for the first time all day, threatened to seize up on him once more.
---
An hour later, the doorbell rang. Marie was bustling around the kitchen, in the final stages of baking bread and making a fresh summer salad. Laura had read the instructions from the cookbook to Rogue, and had then set the table. Logan had been fiddling in the basement for a decent bottle of red wine, dry like Kay preferred, when he heard the fuss upstairs.
“Logan, can you get the door? I’ve got my oven mitts on,” Marie said quietly a floor above, which he heard easily enough. He smirked a bit, and, still unable to decide, he swiped a bottle of Malbec for Kay and a decent bottle of bourbon for he and Marie before quickly heading upstairs. A few seconds later, he had set down the alcohol on the bar and had opened up the door to the short, older woman who was smiling at him widely. Her typical bun had been set loose, and her long black hair fell down her back. She wore her typical silver topaz rings, as she held out a warm batch of butter tarts in her wrinkled and well-used hands.
“Nághaye,” she said warmly. Logan smiled at her, taking the dessert. “Mársi, Kay.”
“You minding yourself?” she said, through an arched brow. He chuckled a bit as he welcomed her inside.
“Always,” he said. She offered him a knowing grin and a small nod.
“Uh huh. I’ve heard that before,” she said, as she made her way inside, Logan trailing behind her.
Having completed her chores for dinner, Laura was currently perched on the couch in the living room, hovering over a chessboard. Logan had been playing with her earlier before he had fetched the wine, but when the younger mutant saw Kay had arrived she looked up, enthralled and game forgotten.
“Xahto, Kay,” Laura said, bounding over to offer the older woman a hug.
“Xahto, sekui,” she said through an umph as Laura hugged her. “My, such strength!” Laura blushed slightly but then she eyed the butter tarts Logan was still holding.
“No way, kid. After dinner. You know the drill,” he said, and Laura returned to the living room to study her next move.
“Marie! You do too much!” Kay was exclaiming behind Logan as the older woman strode to the kitchen. “What can I do to help?” Marie smiled as she wiped a bit of flour from her forehead. “Ha! Sorry to keep you waiting, Kay. Nice to see you! I’m about fifteen minutes behind. And you don’t need to do anything nothing, you’re the guest,” Marie added, but Kay was already dismissing her with a wave of her hand.
“Nonsense,” the older woman said as she made her way into the kitchen, opening the oven for Marie to take out the bread.
“Thank you,” Marie said, and after setting it down and wiping her hand to her forehead, she murmured, “Well, do you mind keeping an eye on that oven for the carrot souflee, if I go wash up? Just take it out if the timer goes off."
“Not at all, dear,” Kay said through a smile.
Marie nodded her head as she slipped off her apron. “Logan, a drink for Kay?” she asked, before offering him a quick smile and striding over to their bedroom. Logan smirked back, a quiet mourning song in his head for Rogue’s abandoned apron, but dutifully followed her orders.
“What will it be?” Logan asked, as he strode over to the bar where he had set down the liquor earlier.
“You know I was thinking a bit of wine,” Kay asked quietly. Logan grinned.
“Red or white?” Logan toyed, knowing full-well what the answer would be.
“A dry red. Nághaye, you know this.” Logan grinned as he held up the bottle he had already plucked from the cellar.
“Just kiddin’, Kay,” he said, and she laughed as she swatted his shoulder.
“Don’t tease a woman this old,” she joked, and Logan scoffed, shaking his head as he filled up a spare glass.
“Well, a bit more won’t hurt, Nághaye,” she said and he grinned as he tilted the bottle to more properly fill the wine glass. As he handed her the wine and then made his way over to make a couple of scotches for he and Marie, he heard Kay began to idly chat with Laura.
“You know chess, sekui?” she asked the younger mutant, even as Kay kept an eye on Marie’s oven, as promised. Laura smiled almost shyly as she shrugged her shoulders, fiddling with a rook in her hand.
“Papa’s teaching me,” Laura said.
“I’m not so good,” Logan grumbled, stalking over to the living room, scotch in hand. “Never had patience for it when I was...younger. It’s tactical strategy, sure, but without the uh...practical implications,” he trailed off through a grin, to which Kay rose a suspicious brow.
“That so, Nághaye? Well regardless, Chess is about tactics. My sedÿne played… years ago,” Kay said, guestering to the chessboard on the coffee table. “His advice to me was always attack the middle game and lose pieces wisely,” she said through a sip of wine. Laura wrinkled her nose.
“The middle game?” Laura asked.
“After you’ve brought all your knights and bishops into the ring,” Logan explained to Laura through a steady gulp of bourbon
“And lose pieces wisely! Papa says that too,” Laura said, looking up to Logan. At this, Kay turned around to face him. “I thought you weren’t much of a chess player?” she asked Logan. Logan cleared his throat before guestering halfheartedly to the chessboard.
“Eh, well, my uh... I had a mentor, once, teach me that,” he grumbled, and he realized that Laura was frowning a little too deeply before Marie walked out of the bedroom once more.
“Lose pieces wisely, eh?” Marie asked. She had changed into a green cashmere sweater and had rebraided her hair, and Logan licked his lips before offering her own glass of scotch.
“Thanks baby,” she murmured, looking up to him with those soft, chocolate eyes. “Shall we do this?”
---
Once everyone had been served and the drinks had been refilled, Logan settled down between Laura and Rogue. Laura was staring at the food as if she hadn’t eaten a day in her life, typically the look about her around this time in the afternoon, whereas Logan didn’t feel the slightest bit hungry. Even though he knew the food was likely to be delicious, it was Marie’s cooking after all, his stomach churned over uncomfortably.
“A few words?” Kay said, looking around the table. Logan shot an eyebrow upward at Kay, not believing her to be the religious type, until she spoke. She did so with purpose, the accents and stresses of the foreign words heavy and resolute, and he realized it wasn’t a prayer at all she was reciting. Something else. What?
“Eh thee ho dee-ey. Dene Cha Neeya. Eh kisee whol tyee,” she said, before giving her head a curt nod, and looking up to them all once more.
Laura, especially, seemed entranced, food suddenly forgotten as she murmured a breathy, “What does it mean?” Kay smiled at her as she picked up her fork.
“Well, sekui, the first part’s about rights. It can mean, hmmm, one who acts rightly. The second part means, well, your word for it is dignity, or should I say dignidad?” Laura’s eyes lit up as Kay’s use of Spanish.
“Si!” Laura said enthusiastically, and Kay chuckled with a nod before continuing on.
“Yes. Hmmm. Dignity. Sort of like...How he or she lives, like pride, with humbleness. Yes? And the final, part, well, that’s my favorite, sekui. It means equality. Everyone is counted as one.” Laura simply blinked at her for a moment, obviously overwhelmed.
“That’s beautiful, Kay,” Marie murmured from behind her glass of scotch, before shooting a glance at Logan and smiling.
“Counted as one,” Laura murmured, through a content sigh. “Lo amo,” she added. No one spoke for a moment as the truth of what Kay was really saying, about her people, about their people, was silently acknowledged. Equality. It was a simple idea, really, but one, that, no matter what events on any given timeline had passed, seemed unlikely to ever really come to fruition.
“So I hear you’ve helped take on the anti-discrimination efforts of our little tribal council?” Kay asked, the first one to break the silence as she took a bite of salad, and nodded in approval at the meal as Marie’s cheeks flushed.
“Well, I went to a meeting,” Rogue said, glancing down at her plate.
“It’s good of you, dear,” Kay said kindly.
“Marie…” Laura murmured, looking up from her food, which she still hadn’t quite touched. “Was Jody there?” Logan raised his eyebrows at this, automatically understanding where Laura was headed, but perfectly content to let her get there on her own accord.
Marie looked up to her with interest as she put down her fork.
“No, mi amada. Although I’m told she usually is. Why?”
Laura shot a nervous look at Logan, obviously asking him for some help. He cleared his throat and set down his glass. He noticed Marie had snuck a glance at his still-full plate, and he made a mental note to take a couple of bites of bread in a second to keep her from worrying
“Uhh, kid. You tryin’ to ask me to tell ‘em what happened outside the school today?” he asked Laura. Laura nodded enthusiastically before taking a huge bite of carrot souffle and swallowing it down with a generous gulp of water
“Laura’s uhhh...got a date to that little dance of hers,” he grumbled, shooting a look Laura’s way to silently asked if he did it right. She nodded again, looking down to her plate once more.
“What? You only say this now?” Marie asked through a helpless smile. “Who?”
“...Cole,” Laura murmured to her salad. Kay was grinning ear to ear, obvious in high spirits at such news, as Marie pressed for more juicy gossip.
“He asked you?” she said.
“Well, sorta,” Laura muttered. “He uhh...texted me.”
“Laura! Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked again. Laura shrugged her shoulders, still red with embarrassment as she gestured to Logan.
“Papa heard,” she said. Marie looked up to him, and he grinned a bit. “I just heard the kid ask for her number. Apparently he texted right after,” he said, before dutifully taking a bite of bread, much to Rogue’s suspicious, fragile approval. He chewed slowly, focusing on the movements in his jaw, as much to keep his volatile stomach at bay as it was to settle Rogue’s anxiety over him not eating.
The conversation meandered on from there. Laura talked about what she was doing in school and Kay and Marie discussed some of the tribal council initiatives. Logan was sure to offer a grunt here or there, but the third glass of scotch and a fading bien dia had him feeling tired. Weak. It was a fucking car trip and rumble around with your woman in the back of the Bronco. Not a battle with a fucking sentinel. Fucking pansy. Man the hell up.
There was a moment where the conversation lulled, and then he heard it. It practically happened before he realized it, and suddenly his senses were alive, pulsating through him on high alert. From upstairs, a shifting of sorts, as if a weight had been dropped to the floor. The hair on his arms stood up straight as he zeroed on the noise. Thunk. Again. Logan took a deep sniff, then another. It was almost the smell of, the smell of….? He realized at this point he had stood from the table, and as he looked to Marie she had a slightly worried frown on her lips. Laura, too was looking at him wildly, silently trying to figure out what he had sensed.
“You ok, sugar?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah...I… just a sec,” he grumbled. Rogue’s frown deepened.
“Baby,” she tried again. Laura was about to stand, too, her body strung with tension in reaction to Logan’s reaction, but he gave her the slightest shake of his head, placing a hand on her shoulder, willing her to sit.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just...give me a minute, darlin’,” he muttered, and then there it was again. Ka-thunk. Like someone falling. Like a person. He left the dining room silently, and then he was taking the stairs two at a time up to the loft. His claws were already itching underneath his skin, begging to be used, as neglected as they had so been. A fucking intruder? In this neck of the woods? Maybe a stray animal through an open window?
Logan. The Marie in his head. Hell. He practically forgotten about her, with as silent as she had been these past few months.
Shut up, Marie, he muttered. I need to think.
But Logan, she muttered again.
I said shut up!
And then there was the sound again, reverberating through Laura’s bedroom, now a steady of stream of incoherent mumbling from the partially closed bathroom door. Intruder then. His claws were out in an instant, singing to life and easily ripping through the scar tissue embedded between his knuckles. The pain was jarring and excruciating and the blood was hot as it stained his hands, but god did he feel fucking alive.
He could still protect them, make them safe. He could still be what they needed.
Logan, just wait. Again, Marie’s stern voice radiating in his mind. You won’t be able to come back from this.
He ignored her this time through only a frustrated growl, as he carefully approached Laura’s bathroom door, a predator stalking its prey, as he silently pushed it all the way open.
The old man was sitting there blankly in his dilapidated, duct-taped wheelchair, staring off into space, in that faded brown cardigan and white, slightly stained undershirt. Wiry and mussed hair. Sagging jaw. Fucking elastic pants. His eyes were distant and clouded, but as he lifted his head to look at Logan, they focused in on him.
“Charles,” Logan raspily murmured, sheathing his claws even as the wounds remained open, oozing blood still, little drops falling onto the white tile of the bathroom floor. What color had Marie called it? Eggshell. That’s right. Eggshell. The room spun as Logan’s stomach lurched, the Wolverine all the while howling in confusion.
And there’s more.
Laura hadn’t heard the sound. Laura hadn’t sensed anything. Had only reacted after he had stood.
You can expect hallucinations too.
Charles staring at him with clouded eyes, a small, odd smile forming on his lips.
Psychosis.
Marie screaming inside his own mind, telling him to go back downstairs, to find help.
Partial paralysis of the limbs too, in time.
He couldn’t catch his breath, as he struggled, willed Charles to go away. To stop fucking looking at him. Logan growled, stumbling forward to wave away the apparition, only to have himself knock into the side of the old man's wheelchair. Logan stumbled backward a couple of paces, all the more confused.
You haven’t experienced anything like that, have you?
Charles looked up to him, before grabbing Logan firmly by the wrist. Logan's eyes widened, his breath erratic and wild.
“What? Did you think this was going to be easy?” the old man said simply to Logan, through an odd, gaping grin.
“Charles,” he croaked once more.
Trust me, doc, he had muttered earlier that day, before getting to his feet. I won’t let it go that far.
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