Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Wish I did
“I thought maybe we could head over to the mall today? I want to get a new dress for my date tomorrow.” Jean leaned forward on the bar stool and looked down at her newspaper. “What’s a six letter word for ‘chooses,’ first letter ‘E’?” After getting no response, she looked up.
Ororo stood at the sink, her back to Jean, mechanically chopping onions.
“’Ro?”
“Elects.”
“What? Oh!” She pulled the pencil from behind her ear and wrote the word in the boxes. “How about”“
“Mornin’ ladies.” Logan wandered over to the sink and wrapped his arms around Ororo’s waist. Kissing her neck, he whispered “Mornin’ darlin’”
He could feel her tense in his arms, feel her skin grow hot. “Hi Logan.”
Pulling away, he leaned back against the counter next to her. “’Hi Logan?’”
No response.
“Hmph.” He started to leave the kitchen, stopping in the doorway to look back at her. She stood still, remaining silent. Logan grunted as he stormed down the hallway.
Ororo shut her eyes tightly, gripping a knife in one hand and making a fist with the other.
Jean set aside her crossword puzzle. “’Ro? Honey, you alright?”
After a pause, “I’ve been having dreams again.”
“Dreams?”
“Of Hank.”
“Oh, sweetie…” Jean moved across the kitchen to stand next to her friend.
“I-I haven’t had dreams like this in years. Right after…after he died. At first, they were more like memories. The prison, the experiments. But last night…It was so real, Jean. That day all over again. It’s as if he’s”“
Jean, Ororo. I need you in my office immediately.
* * * * *
Ororo shut the door behind her softly, leaning her back against it. She looked over to Logan pulling a duffel bag out of the closet. “Hey.”
Without looking up, he responded, “I’m headin’ out tomorrow. Chuck’s got me and one-eye on another of his mutant hunts. Somewhere out west.”
“I know. He detected something else a few hours ago. He’s sending Rogue, Jean, and I up North to check it out.”
Logan walked over to the bed, throwing clothes into his bag. “A mutant?”
“He’s not sure. Says it’s something he’s never seen before. When will you be back?”
“Dunno. Week. Maybe two.” He looked at her, “You pretendin’ to care now?”
She looked at the ground. “That’s not fair.”
“Sorry. It’s the best I’ve got.” They remained silent for what seemed like an hour. Her at the door, him still packing. “I don’t get it, darlin’. We been doin’ great almost a year now. Then ya go and clam up on me”“
“I’m s”“
“I ain’t lookin’ for an apology, ‘Ro.” He dropped the bag on the ground, looking over at her. His arms crossed in front of his chest, his white t-shirt straining against his muscles. “I’m lookin’ for answers.”
“Answers that I can’t give you right now. I don’t know what’s been going on myself!”
“You been havin’ those dreams again.”
“How did you”“
“Please, I ain’t a moron. I see ya thrashin’ about in bed, I hear ya callin’ out his name. He’s dead, ‘Ro! Dead. He ain't comin' back." Immediately, he wished he hadn’t said it.
She winced. Her nose flared and her eyes watered. She knew he was dead. She knew she'd never see him again. Of course she knew.
She gave him one last look of hurt and disgust and fled the room.
Logan looked down at the belt in his hand for a brief moment before slamming it against the wall. "Shit."
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