Unlike those before I wanna free you
Let the sweetness of your kiss rush over me
I search so many lifetimes
Let my soul rest in your arms
And I'll let you inside
Bitter Sweet - Me'Shell NdegéOcello
Logan had spent the next day training. He stayed in the gym, pounding the punching bag like its name was Victor Creed. When Ororo had told him some of (and he knew she didn't tell him all) the things Victor had done to her, he honestly felt like he could kill with no problem again. He didn't know what Victor Creed looked like but he could imagine the image so plainly in his head.
Blond hair, brown eyes, and an ugly smile.
His father.
He bit down on his bottom lip and punched the bag hard, bruising his hand as he did so. The thoughts of being six years old played his head so vividly, it hurt. He should not have been the one responsible to stand up for his mother and younger brother. His mother was weak though, he had known that long before he even knew how to spell his name.
The night his father decided to beat his brother was the night Logan decided to kill his father.
He had chosen the name Logan as the name of his childhood friend, a boy that was murdered at the hands of his own father, defending Logan's mother. That, however, was another story Logan did not want to touch base with.
Almost every night, his father haunted his dreams.
Kicks.
Punches.
Screams.
"Logan?"
As if being awaken from a dream, Logan gave a start and turned to meet Tom. Rarely, did Tom come personally to the gym to greet Logan. Something had to be very, very wrong. He had instantly stopped his reign of terror when Tom called his name.
"Something the matter?" He asked, frowning.
Tom's hands were shaking and in his shaking hands, he held a folded piece of paper. "You know that girl you were with, the pretty one with the white hair?" Logan nodded and Tom slowly handed him the folded sheet of paper.
Logan looked down at it and grabbed Tom's hand, attempting to stop it from shaking. "Why don't you just tell me what the paper says, Tom?" Logan couldn't prevent his own voice from quavering. Tom licked his lips and tasted the sweat that had formed there. He looked down and shook his head, "It's not for me to read, Logan. Her friend said it was specifically for you."
He squinted his eyes at Tom, who was acting extremely strange.
"Who was this friend, Tom?"
Tom sighed and showed his frustration by tilting his head to the side and frowning, "Logan, just take the damn paper. I don't want any trouble!"
Logan snatched the paper away from Tom and opened it.
She is still here, was written in messy scrawl and Logan didn't bother with simple things such as changing or even telling Tom he was leaving. He simply left the gym and hopped onto his motorcycle. Nothing about this made any bit of sense, but Logan didn't care. If there was some sort of message telling him that Ororo, his 'Ro was still in the motel room, he would take the risk of getting to her.
By the time he made it to her motel room, it had begun to rain. He was drenched as he ran up the steps and knocked on her motel door. Frowning when it opened, Logan prepared himself for whatever crazy shit that was going to happen and he gently pushed the door open.
It hadn't even opened completely when he saw her laying there on the bed.
"Ororo!" His voice went raw with emotion as he ran over to the bed and knelt down beside her. He lifted her hand to and pressed two fingers to her wrist. She was still alive, just as promised. But she was an absolute mess. Both her eyes were black and her nose may have been broken. The right side of her lip was swollen and her pillow was stained with blood. Logan lifted her head and swore loudly. There was so much blood. What would he do?
How long had she been like this? These wounds were all fresh. He was thinking that these were done just hours ago. She had a fucking concussion! There was blood everywhere.
"'Ro, baby, I need you to wake up." He tapped the side of her face lightly and sat her up. His hand that cradled the back of her head was covered in her blood. "Baby, please wake up for me." He looked down at her and rocked her slowly.
Her right eye opened slowly as the other one had been swollen shut.
Logan felt relief wash through him.
"Logan?" Her voice was hoarse and she coughed, spitting up a bit of blood. Logan's eyes widened with fear at that and he cradled her, moving to lift her up from the bed. It was stopped abruptly when he heard a gun cock and he laid her back down gently.
So the bastard wanted to play.
Ororo whimpered in pain and Logan pressed his finger to his lips. He quickly covered her up and stood his ground. If this was how it was going to be, then this was just how it was going to be. He smoothed back his wet hair and put on a pretty smile for his guest.
"So?" Victor Creed asked, stepping around and standing in the doorway, "You're the bastard that took my money and my girl."
Logan frowned and looked down at Ororo who was shaking her head. "Listen, bub, I don't know what the fuck yer talkin' about but I definitely didn't take your money. I don't need it. From the looks of it, you do." Victor growled and pulled his arm around.
Instead of aiming the gun at Logan, he pointed his Thirty-eight Ororo. This seemed to catch Logan by surprise and before he even knew what the hell he was doing, he charged into Victor. This knocked Victor back and the gun blasted. Ororo gave a cry and Logan did not have time to look back and see if she were okay. He may have been fast but Victor had been faster. It had been a good while since he'd actually had a worthwhile fight and Victor slamming his fist into Logan's side.
"Son of a bitch!" Logan could breathe out the words and his side would still be on fire. He pushed Victor back through the door and out into the rain, making him crash against the rail.
Victor grabbed the sides of Logan's face and squeezed tightly, making Logan cry out and fall back. He didn't have time to retaliate because Victor brought his steel toe boot into Logan's side.
"Give up, runt." Victor stood over him and gave him another rough kick. Logan winced and curled up to protect himself. Victor laughed and reached a hand down to pull Logan up by his hair. Logan had taken a lot of things in his life but he wasn't about to get his hair pulled by another man. Women did those sort of things and for a good reason, too.
"I'll give up when you give up!" He yelled, spitting out rain and giving Victor a sucker punch that made him double over. "How about you start fightin' someone your own god damn size, you big stinkin' asshole!" Logan had become victorious. His punches were relentless and for every bruise he saw on Ororo, he gave to Victor. Blind seething rage was the only thing he could see now and he would stop at nothing to make sure this bastard never hurt her again.
Victor made no sound, not even the mere grunt as Logan tried to break his ribs with his fists.
Logan pulled back and he slumped down, beginning to pant.
The rain seemed to come down harder. He was surprised no one had come to watch Victor and him pummel the life out of one another. Doing just as Victor had done to him, Logan took his cowboy boots and stomped them into Victor's side.
Only then, did he show a sign of defeat as he let out a yelp and look up at Logan. Rain dropped from the tip of his nose and he was clutching his side. Logan stood over him, his features darkened and wet hair unkempt about his head.
He narrowed his eyes when Victor began to laugh.
"You - can't - kill me," Victor panted. "You couldn't kill me if I handed you the gun."
Logan snarled and leaned down to pick Victor up by the scruff of his neck but jumped back when his gun fired and Victor gave a startled jump and slumped over. He looked over his shoulder to find Ororo half laying in the door way with the gun at her hand. She had passed out once more. He turned to Victor and lifted his head.
Right between the eyes.
Logan gave a hollow laugh and knelt down next to Victor. He had killed his own father. Luckily for Victor, Ororo had shot him because he planned on using pure, unadulterated torture.
He moved back to Ororo and lifted her up with ease. He cradled her in his arms and ran back to the bed. He looked around at the disheveled room, Ororo's state and then to Victor, dead and sitting slumped over against the rail.
