Early morning visits were for serious lovers, and Logan knew this, but he decided to take his chances. One June morning, when the dawn was just starting to touch the windows, he put on his clothes, went down the hall, and entered her room.
He hadn’t slept all night.
She was lying on her side, facing away from him, the sheet pulled over the length of her body. Deep in sleep, he judged. He could tell by the sound of her measured breathing. This was so mean”mean to wake her. But he just couldn’t help it”he felt impish. And the night had been long, and he was tired of being alone. He was bored. He slid onto the bed next to her and set a hand on her shoulder. Shook her just slightly.
She awoke with a start, her head jerking from the pillow. “What? What’s wrong?” Her voice was thick from sleep.
He kept his hand on her shoulder. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it. He liked the warmth of her body. “I can’t believe you.”
She turned her head to look at him.
“You left your door unlocked. That’s not safe. Anyone could just come in.”
She lay back down. “Maybe I want them to.”
“What do you want me to do today?”
She groped for the clock on her nightstand and turned it around. “Logan, it’s five in the morning. I want you to go back to bed for another two hours. We’ll talk about it at breakfast.”
He was quiet. Then he said, “I’m done sleeping.”
She clutched the sheet around her. “Do I look like I am? Goddamnit, Logan.” She breathed a sigh and then glanced back at him once more. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“I think we should start an early morning training regimen. Military-style. You, me, the kids. And then I think we should”” He paused, and then pressed his lips against hers. Then he kissed her neck. He felt her relax, the annoyance leaving her body as he gripped her left breast, traced her nipple through the fabric of her nightgown. She turned toward him. She was opening to him, getting used to the idea of him in her bed at five in the morning. She liked to sleep late, but she liked sex more. He was figuring these things out. She didn’t mind giving into him”not least of all because she got something out of it. She didn’t use sex to get what she wanted because sex was what she wanted. They were the same in that way.
He pressed himself against her, started to take off his shirt.
“Wait,” she said, pulling away. “Let me at least brush my teeth.”
“No,” he said, reaching for her. “Forget it.” How to explain this without sounding crass? He liked the smell of morning on people”no, on her. The slight sweatiness, the carbon dioxide, the familiarity.
She pulled away again. “Logan, I have to””
He grasped her again, this time more forcefully, his face just an inch from hers. He knew what she was saying. “I can pull out.”
She paused. Then relaxed. She trusted him.
But when she was underneath him, he thought she looked sad, and he wondered if she was sad because of him, or because of this situation, or because of something else that had nothing to do with him. That was what concerned him the most”that these things going on with her, whatever they were, went on without him, or in spite of him. Underneath her skin was a world he knew nothing about. Her past, her mind”she kept it all hidden from him. And maybe rightly so. He wondered if she thought about the day he walked out on them to go find Jean, and he’d pushed her against the wall, but she hadn’t seemed surprised. So that was that.
When they were finished, and they lay there all tangled up together, he felt bad for dragging her from sleep. Unlike him, she actually needed to sleep. And he could tell that she was tired. “Sorry,” he whispered quickly.
She glanced over at him and laughed softly. “The hell you are.”
“Yeah.”
“Just . . . be quiet, Logan. I’m trying to rest.” She rolled over.
For ten minutes they dozed. Then, down the hall, a door slammed and an angry voice trailed down the corridor. Another voice shushed. Logan opened his eyes and groaned. The goddamn Guthrie siblings, he guessed.
“Alright,” Storm said, sitting up. “Go into the bathroom and take a shower.”
“I’ll tell ‘em off,” he said, also sitting up.
“Forget it,” she whispered, slipping her nightgown over her head. She reached for her bathrobe, which was draped over a chair. “I don’t want anyone to see you leaving my bedroom at five-thirty in the morning.”
He almost rolled his eyes. Yeah. God forbid the kids find out that Mr. Logan and Ms. Munroe actually indulged each other once in a while. Half of them probably knew anyway, and the other half probably suspected. How to hide this kind of thing from a telepathic teenager? He couldn’t speak for her, but he knew he hadn’t been very discreet with his thoughts. “If they see me, I’ll tell them that you had a nightmare and I got you a glass of water. How’s that?”
“I’ll see you at breakfast,” she whispered and hurried off to break up the fight.
###
The day was normal, lazy. The kids did their work, squabbled with each other, bitched to each other about the unfairness of having to go to school in the summertime, and then went to lie in the sun. Around two, Rogue showed up in the den with Sam and Artie in tow. “Is it okay if I take them to Friendly’s? We won gift certificates at the horse show and they’re about to expire.”
He was standing over the desk, a pile of bank statements in front of him. He quickly sized up the situation. Wondered, for the twentieth time that month, what Rogue was doing playing older sister to those two. This was her new thing. She used to hang out with Kitty and Jubilee to do teenage girl things, but then she turned away from them. Now she was spreading herself among the younger kids as if it didn’t matter, as if she couldn’t bear to invest herself in anything else. She was counting down the days for when she could just go off to college and be a normal person among other normal people and do normal human things.
They didn’t talk as much anymore. It bothered him. He didn’t know if her unwillingness to open up was just more fall-out from having taken the cure, or due to some inevitable shift in their relationship. Probably both. She was growing up and getting over him and shrugging off whatever protection or understanding or companionship he’d once provided. He wasn’t that special anymore. His life was at the school, and the school was about to be her past.
Worse, though, was the fact that she passed unnoticed at the mansion now. Before, she’d been outgoing and approachable. Popular, he thought. Now she seemed invisible, and past the point of caring. She and Bobby had broken up months ago, but that was only part of it. She wasn’t even on Storm’s radar anymore, and Storm had been pissed after that whole cure thing.
He gave her the once-over. She was wearing a hat and a tee-shirt that said “enterprising youth.” “Yeah, okay,” he said. Then, he amended that: “Better ask Storm.” He’d long ago learned his lesson about the dangers of not asking Storm first.
“Seriously, Logan.” She glanced at the pile of work in front of him. Looked a little disgusted. “It’s Friendly’s.”
“Then just ask,” he said, vaguely annoyed by her tone. “She’ll say yes.”
“Then there’s no reason for me to ask if she’ll say yes.” She leaned against the table. “God, do you have to get permission for every little thing? It’s like she’s your boss.”
“Yeah, how’d you guess,” he said. “So go ask her.”
She sighed. Gathered the boys to her and stalked out of the room.
Logan wanted to ask Storm about this Rogue thing”wanted to ask if this whole thing was normal, or if it was a phase, or if he’d maybe done something wrong”but he didn’t feel like bringing it up. Storm would just use his discomfort as an excuse to opine on the ethical dilemmas of the cure, of the fact that it gave mutants an all-too easy fix to their complicated problems. This was Storm’s new thing; she’d moved on from calling the cure “the coward’s way out” to saying it messed with mutants psychologically. “People think that it will solve their problems,” she said to him once. “Then they take the cure and get upset because their problems still remain. They find out that all of their issues”family, job, money”had little to do with their mutations in the first place. Then they realize that they’ve given up the very fabric of who they are, and for what.”
Logan didn’t like being on the receiving end of these little sermons. He didn’t agree or disagree with Storm; he just didn’t care about other people’s choices. He cared about Rogue. He didn’t see the point in generalizing, or in trying to fit Rogue into some kind of pre-ordained schema. She was Rogue, not some textbook example.
One night about a month ago, after he’d listened to Storm proselytize for a good ten minutes, he finally asked: “What the fuck are we doing protecting cure clinics, huh? Why send Kitty into these dangerous fucking situations to protect a bunch of cowards and the assholes who make money off of them?”
She was sitting in the den, wading through a stack of files, trying to find the Cuckoo sisters’ medical release forms, and she stopped and looked up. “People deserve our protection, Logan. Even if we disagree with their choices.”
He dropped himself onto the couch. Oh, she was so moral! “I don’t want to send Kitty undercover anymore. I don’t want her to have to do that.”
Storm got up from the table. “She wants to. It’s her decision, not yours, and she’s old enough.”
“Yeah, why not send Bobby or Peter instead then?”
“Why, because they’re guys?” Storm laid a file on the table. “Kitty’s done a great deal of research. She’s good. She knows this cell inside and out, and her mutation is really useful in these situations.” She paused. “Look, I don’t like it either. It’s definitely not . . . Well, it is what it is.”
Logan hated it when people said that.
“I wasn’t much older than Kitty when we started the team,” Storm said. “But Kitty and Bobby and Peter”they already have more experience than we did.”
Experience, Logan thought, in killing people. Alcatraz had been a baptism of sorts. He often wondered how the kids had inwardly reacted to that. If they’d had any problems, they’d hidden them from him. Maybe Storm had more insight. Or maybe not.
“I just don’t like it,” Logan said.
And Storm didn’t say anything.
###
That night he was sitting in the rec room, trying to get some work done while keeping an eye on the game at the same time. Some of the younger kids were off in the corner acting something out. At least, he guessedthey were acting something out. They kept saying the same things over and over again. “Don’t follow me,” one would say. Then another would say, “Don’t! Follow me.” Or “Don’t follow me.” He got the feeling that they were imitating something they’d heard on TV. It was getting irritating.
Jones wandered into the room and sidled up to him. “Yo,” he said.
Logan didn’t look up. He never responded when Jones tried to force this kind of familiarity on him. Not that he liked being “Mr. Logan” either. But goddamnit. It was like there was no middle ground with these kids.
“I’m looking for Rogue,” Jones said. “Have you seen her?”
He glanced up. “You mean she’s not here?”
Jones shrugged. “I’m asking.”
“She took Artie and Sam to get ice cream, but that was hours ago.”
Jones looked hurt for a second. Then he recovered. “They’re upstairs. They said they hadn’t seen Rogue either. So . . .”
Logan stood. Wondered if he should be worried. It wasn’t like Rogue to just walk off. Well, actually it was. That was the problem. When she walked off, she usually walked off for a solid reason. What if she’d left? What if she’d run away for good this time? His mind started to go places. He knew he was jumping to conclusions, but he couldn’t help it. It was just the way his mind worked.
“Do you think it has something to do with the fact that there’s a car parked in the driveway?” Jones said.
“What?”
“I figured you knew. Yeah. There’s been a car parked in the driveway for the last hour and a half. There’s some guy in the backseat.”
Logan steadied himself. “Inside the gate?”
“Hells yeah,” Jones said. “Like I said, he’s in the driveway. We’ve been watching through the window. Artie even got the binoculars out. So far, nothing. Not a move out of the guy. I can’t believe you didn’t know this.”
Logan was already in the hallway. He glanced down to see the huddle of kids in the corner. They were now very quiet. They all peered up at him. “Stay down,” he told them. He looked at Jones. “Keep everyone in here. No one move.”
In the corner, one girl’s eyes got very wide and then started to tear. Somebody whimpered. “Mariko,” someone whispered, and then the girl started to cry.
Logan moved quickly down the hallway. He spotted Bobby and Kitty sitting together in an alcove. “Bobby,” he said, and headed for the door.
They both looked at each and got to their feet. “Logan, what is it?” Kitty said.
“There’s someone outside,” he said. He approached the door and looked through the window. It was almost dark, but he there it was, big as life”a small car parked on the other side of loop. It wasn’t running.
“Who is it?” Bobby said from behind Logan.
“I don’t know. It’s someone who got past the gate. Come with me.” He looked at Kitty. “You. Watch the kids.”
“For crying out loud, Logan,” Kitty said, and she seemed a little excited. “Don’t tell me to stay inside. I’m totally there for this.”
Storm appeared at the landing on the top of the stairs. “What’s going on?”
“Someone’s outside and Logan thinks it’s a terrorist,” Kitty said.
Storm dashed down the stairs. “Hold on. I’m coming.”
Logan slowly opened the door and peeked outside. “You two,” he said to Bobby and Storm. “You take point. I’ll go.”
“Logan”” Storm said.
But Logan was already making his way from the porch to the loop. He stopped behind the lilac bush and took a better look at the car. Scented. This was someone distantly familiar, but someone he hadn’t seen in a while. That could be a lot of people. He looked back at Storm and Bobby. Nodded. Went forward.
He was one bad twitch away from drawing his claws.
The car was a white early ‘90s Ford Probe. He approached it from behind. Crouched down behind the car. Gathered himself. Then, pounced. He grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. (It wasn’t locked.) There was a guy on the backseat, lying under a blanket. He grabbed him by the leg and pulled him out of the car.
The person made a noise, a noise of surprise and violation.
And then the guy was on the gravel. Logan grabbed his arms, pulled him to his feet, and slammed his back against the car.
“Logan!” Storm yelled. “Logan, stop!”
Bobby came running forward, Kitty at his side.
Logan looked. The guy in his grip was just a kid. Not just any kid”Warren! He let go. Then he pushed the kid into the car again”this time in disgust. He sighed. Took a step back. “Jesus, kid.”
Warren clamped his eyes shut as if bracing himself. He was shaking.
“Warren, Warren,” Storm said, approaching. “Are you okay?”
He pulled away from Logan and huddled against the car, his arms crossed. Shielded his eyes with one hand. He was trying not to cry. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Please.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Logan said. They hadn’t seen Warren in more than a year. Last they heard, he was patching things up with his rich family and studying at Princeton. He hadn’t had any contact with them in a while. Hadn’t kept in touch.
“Logan,” Storm whispered. She drew closer to Warren and put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” she told him. “It’s okay.”
“I’ll go,” he said.
“No, no, come inside.”
“It’s just . . .” He dropped his hand and looked down. “I have nowhere to go. I just”” His voice broke, and then he sighed.
Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Bobby put a hand on Kitty’s shoulder. “Come on,” he whispered, and they turned toward the house. Warren covered his eyes with his hand and sobbed.
###
“So what’s wrong with him?” Logan asked Storm later that night once everything had calmed down and most of the kids were in bed. They put Warren in the room of a girl who was on summer vacation and gave him something to eat. Then Storm calmed down the kids.
She paused in front of him, put her hands on her hips. Then she moved to the cupboard to get a teabag. “There’s nothing wrong with him.”
“There’s something wrong with a guy who parks his car outside, takes a nap, and doesn’t bother to knock or call first.”
She turned around. “You scared him, Logan.” Her eyes skimmed over him. Then she turned away. Looked like she was remembering something. He could guess. “I think he left everything. College. His family. I think he’s been on his own for a while.” She put the kettle on the stove. “I don’t know why he didn’t call.”
“Some people like to try to make it on their own first.”
“I’m glad he came to us,” she said. “You need to calm down, though.”
“Excuse me?”
She gave him another glance. “You got everyone all upset. You freaked him out, you got the kids all wound up”” She set her mug down.
“It’s not like I didn’t have a reason to,” he said, but inside he was smarting.
“No, but around these kids you really have to keep your emotions in check.” She paused. “You didn’t have to panic like that.”
“I don’t”” He set his hand down on the table. “I don’t panic, Storm.”
“Okay, you don't panic,” she said, but insincerely. She just didn’t want to fight.
The back door swung open and slammed. Seconds later, Rogue appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, handbag slung over her shoulder. She set the car keys in the tray and gave them a small wave.
He looked up. “Where the hell have you been?”
Rogue stopped and leveled a gaze at him. “I was working, Logan. Remember? I have a job.”
“Since when?”
“Since last Thursday.” She rolled her eyes and then glanced at Storm. “My college won’t pay for itself. Damn.” She slipped from the doorway. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered as she retreated down the hall.
###
He wanted to go to Storm that night. He knew that, despite everything, she’d let him, let him into her bed, wrap her legs around him, dig her heels into him”and maybe that was the problem. What happened between them during the day had nothing to do with how she reacted to him at night, how she moved beneath him, or how she touched him. It all felt so unearned. A book with no ending.
In the rec room he paged through a book. Then, decided to make the rounds. And wanted to check on this Warren kid. (He still just didn’t trust him”he couldn’t help it.) He stopped in front of Warren’s door. Listened. Then, very slowly, opened the door.
Warren was awake. He was curled onto his side. He sat up and took stock of Logan. Wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked straight ahead.
“Oh, sorry,” Logan said. “I thought you were”do you need anything?”
Warren shook his head.
“Sorry. About before,” Logan said.
Warren looked down. “It’s okay,” he said. His voice was barely audible. “I know I shouldn’t have just parked there like that.”
Logan leaned against the doorframe and took in the sight of the kid”his huge wings sagging against him and draped across the mattress. It was a hell of a mutation”hard to hide. But useful. Beautiful even. But when he looked at Warren he just saw someone who was deeply unhappy, and who had been unhappy for some time. Every muscle in his body seemed to slump, dispirited.
“How long were you on your own?” Logan asked.
“Three months.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to go to Seattle, but I knew the car wouldn’t make it.”
Logan knew that the kid came from all kinds of money; the fact that he didn’t have a working car said something. “What’s in Seattle?”
“A girl,” he whispered. “I could”I could have flown, but . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t want to go there anymore.”
Logan nodded. “And your family?”
“Still wants me to take the cure.” He looked sad”sadder than he’d looked before, if that was even possible. He turned away, sprawled across the bed.
Logan felt a moment of awkwardness coming on. It was something he couldn’t avoid. He needed to be more like Storm”needed to make this situation warmer and more welcoming. “Well, you can stay here as long as you like.”
“I”I appreciate that,” Warren said. “I . . . maybe I could help you?”
“Of course,” Logan said, and only after he said that did he realize that Warren might have been asking to be let on the team. And Logan couldn’t give that kind of benediction. “Well, we’ll have to talk to Storm.”
Warren’s eyes brightened. He looked relieved. Then he gave Logan a knowing look. “Thanks.”
That night, when he gave in and finally went to Storm, he grabbed her hand when he came and held it there, and stayed there, wrapped up in her for moments afterward. She finally nudged him back and set a hand on his neck. But she didn’t push him away. She just looked at him. Then she draped her arms around him, pressed his head against her neck. There was no empty space between them. “Tomorrow,” she said, and she started to talk about what they were going to do. She made a list. “Mm-hmm,” he said in response, lulled to stillness by her voice. It occurred to him that she was trying to get him to fall asleep. For once. With her.
[Reviews - 14]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story |
Has been viewed 2380 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story | - Text Size +
You must login () to review.
