1963-07-23 - Leave
Summary: After a few days of silence, Logan finally returns to visit Jean.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
logan jean 

It's been two days since the flight that nearly ended in tragedy. Jean, Sam, and Rogue took to the skies and they crashed into a weather balloon that was launched by a pair of students. Something akin to PTSD triggered Jean, which triggered the two flying members.. which had her falling from the sky only to be caught by Rogue and Sam blasting off like Team Rocket just went toe to toe with a pikachu.

Rogue laid her to rest in her room as she would, but Jean wasn't alright. Though, she couldn't possibly remember a time that she was actually.. doing fine.

The first night she cried. And she left her room to see if Sam returned. When she didn't see him she became worried and cried more. She missed the dinner bell. She missed a nice stroll with Charles. She missed bringing Logan dinner, though it was alright. There were times she didn't show up at all. She also missed sleep.

The second day, she checked to see if Sam came home. It was close to a repeat of the day before. Missing the bells to eat. Missing visiting people. Missing strolling or spending time with her books. She also.. didn't sleep.

This was the third day. And she did not come out of her room.


Logan had to make a quick run to the city for a few days to get a few supplies and check in with some old contacts. There were people who wanted to make sure they knew where he was, in case of trouble - and to m ake sure he wasn't responsible for bad things going on somewhere far away. He was like a bomb - even if he wasn't being used, you don't want to lose track of it.

When he comes back, he asks about Jean, only to be told she's been keeping to herself. HE doesn't much like the sound of that.

Soon, he's knocking at the door to her room, "Hey, kid, it's me. Don't make me knock down the door, we just got all yer new wood panelin' in and shit."


The knock of the door has her rising from her spot upon the floor, her feet lightly padding towards the door to open it just a little, allowing him in. And it was back to the floor she went, sitting herself down close enough to the wall that her knees touch the surface as she begins to draw. This time, she actually draws on paper. Her head hunched over as she quickly spreads the black along the white canvas. The bird.. that same bird that sometimes litters her books is plastered all over the surface of the paper.

And she was quiet. It wasn't that she wasn't happy to see Logan, she truly was. But… she didn't know what to say in her moments of infinite sadness. That's what she gets for turning herself back on.

"Hi." She was quiet. And it was slightly dark out.


Logan moves and grasps one of the chairs in the room, pulling it up so that he can straddle it, letting her go back to her drawing. He can tell she's been pretty much locked up in here for days - the sweat goes back that long, by the scent of it and her. "Heard you been keepin' to yourself since I been gone. Any particular reason or you just decide you don't want a tan this year?" he says.


The scrape of the chair has her wincing, her shoulders rising and the drawing stopped. She didn't want to look at him, her face was red and slightly swollen from all the crying, her nose sore from all of the tissue wiping and.. she was just in a pathetic state.

"That's funny." She says quietly, clearing her throat for those quick moments to turn around to face him with an inhale and a toss back of her messy red hair. "I just didn't feel like going outside." She gestures at her face. "I have a cold. Where have you been?"


Logan raises an eyebrow, "Just didn't feel like going outside. So how did you feel then?" he says. He knows he has to be patient with her - she doesn't want to talk, probably, and shit, it's not like he was big on swapping stories and sharing his feelings. But he also knew she needed to talk to somebody who wasn't some mind-reading professor.

"Just making sure some guys with guns remember to leave me alone," he says. "Sorry about yer cold. You want I should get you some chicken soup?"


"Sad." Jean admits. Lying to Logan was futile at best. He may have let it go if she did, but at the end of the day, she usually spilled her guts over tissues or one of his famous, gourmet sandwiches. "Like a failure. Like I'm not fit to be outside." She was getting better at opening up, and one of the few times it was hard to get her to shut up. Now may.. or may not be one of these times.

Though hearing his words, she leans back against the wall, her eyes closing as she takes in a breath. "Those.. people.." She couldn't say anything about them. But she was upset that he had to do that. "I don't feel like eating, to be honest, Logan."


Logan nods, "Which people? Gonna have to be more specific, darlin'," he says. "You don't feel like eatin', I ain't gonna make ya, but ya gotta do it sometime or you'll make yerself really sick. At least get some liquids in ya," he says.

"As for th first part..you ain't no failure. You ain't old enough to be a failure, fer one. Shit, you barely old enough to have even started your damn life, almost a kid yerself."


She didn't really want to ask about it. She avoided asking Logan about his past and he never really brought it up. But him asking her to be specific opened the door to it at least. And.. well, he brought it up. She puts the paper aside, moving with a slight grunt to lift up and sit upon the bed, her hands reaching over to grasp for the chair to try to drag him closer to her so that she could feel comfortable. "Those people that you went to see? Who are they?"

But the question of her age comes up and she frowns. "Does that bother you? That.. I'm twenty three and you're obviously older than everyone here?" She gasps slightly, her hand lifting to press against her lips. "Not.. obviously but.. you said.."


Logan moves over and opens her window a crack so that he can light a smoke, not wanting to drown the kid in the stink of it in a closed room. "Spy types. Military types. The kind of people who think they run the world, but nobody knows. Truth is, they mostly play games with each other and most people couldn't give a shit less what they do one way or another," he says.

He snorts, "I'm obviously older, yeah. Nah, not really. I mean…I can tell the difference, y'know. Like…ain't much of anybody here got…my level of experience, let's say." he says, and he considers, "I don't know exactly how old I am, if I'm true. My memories…they ain't so great. But I'd prob'ly guess around a hundred, give or take…"


"You used to be a spy?" Jean murmurs, her voice a slight pitch that was a little bit higher than normal. Her gaze follows him, but along with her gaze was the shift of her body as she watches him with -clear- interest.

"One hundred.." She stands up then, approaching the window, reaching out to take the rugged hand that doesn't have a cigarette attached to it. "You have to tell me." Nevermind the smoke, she's attempting to pull him down to the bed so that she could at least hear a story. Any kind of story that had nothing to do with her. And if she was going to be with him? Why not!

"What was it like? When.. you were doing .. the spy thing. I want to hear all about it."


Logan lays on his back and blows smoke up at the ceiling. If she wants to pull him down into her bed, he wasn't fool enough to complain, even if it was just for some close quarters story time.

"Well, that's where the memory bit gets…tricky. Like…some stuff comes clear as day. Missions, faces, names. But other stuff…just gone. Big blank patches in my head, only I can't tell if they been cut out or just…pasted over. I can't tell if I just didn't want to remember or if someone else took 'em away from me. I think it might be a bit o' both," he sighs. "How was it, though? Dangerous. Excitin' sometimes, too. But dangerous."


Jean curls up next to him, one elbow propped up so that she could rest her head upon the palm of her hand, her fingers idly tugging at his shirt to unsnag a little fleck of wood that managed to get captured there. She flicks it with her fingers, but with a squint of her eyes, the tk within catches it before it falls to the floor.

"Do.. and I mean eventually.. do you want me to help you try to get it all back?" She leans forward then, letting her chin rest against his chest as she watches him. There was even a little invisible barrier there. One that allows the smoke to bend around her face to float against and not -on- her.

"Do you think that is what eventually will happen to us? That.. everything will be dangerous. That.. we'll have exciting missions and we'll see the world and do all sorts of fantastic things.."


Logan considers, "Maybe," he says. "I dunno. There's stuff there…that probably oughtta stay buried, I'm bettin'. But…I won't know anything until I get into it. I just fear that when I do…I'll find some things I gotta do. Things I gotta feel that I don't wanna feel. Y'know, the church folk, they always talk about…sins. God's supposed to forgive 'em, y'know? But how do you forgive yourself?" he asks.

He takes a long drag on his smoke, reaching up to stroke a hand over her red, red hair. "Yeah, I think…you're gonna do great things," he says. "Hopefully not too many people tryin' to kill ya. That's always a bad part. But…yeah. And if you wanna drag an old man along with ya, well, you got me."


"You won't even really know until you try, Logan." Jean says quietly. "What if there's someone out there, just waiting for you to come back to them? What if they come looking for you? What if they're just.. so hurt when they find out that you don't even recognize their faces?" She sighs, now sounding like him with his pep-talks. And she was down in the dumps herself. She was a hypocrite.

She rolls away to put herself into the position of laying the back of her head where her chin previously was, closing her eyes as she shrugs idly. "I don't know how.. I still can't and don't.."

But she looks over towards him, then smiles. "I hope so. I don't want to fight. I .. I just want to live and convince people that there are other ways than anger.."


Logan considers, "Anybody that waited for me…they're better off without me. I can promise that. But the man I was before…" he says, flexing his hand as he remembers the pain. She can feel it, in his mind, the agony of the infusion, the way he felt as if his very bones were on fire, his brain full of acid. He had screamed for a long, long time and no one gave a good god damn.

He cups her cheek with his strong hand, sighing, "I hope you get it. I ain't optimistic - been enough road under me to know too many people like to fight. Or that what they believe or what flag they fly or what god they worship, that it entitles 'em to kill and hurt other folks. Just for bein' different. Don't imagine mutants are any different," he says.


"You can't. I wait for you when you're gone. Even if you're in the other room I wait." As he lifts his hand, her eyes focuses upon his digits, that overwhelming feeling drawing over her as she takes in a breath, her back arching slightly as her eyes immediately snap shut. Yes. She could feel it, so much that she nearly takes it into herself, fighting it off with a grit of her teeth and a faltered.. slight blubber of emotion that has her in tears. She sniffs hard, her hands dropping to cover her face as she lets out a little sob, her head shaking. "Stop.. James.."


Logan sits up and puts his arms around her, pulling her against his chest, "Hush, hush, I'm sorry, darlin', I'm sorry, I didn't mean…it just…god damn me," he says. He buries his head in her hair, his thick arms holding her close against him.

"See? I leave a lot of bruises and cuts in the wake o' me. Even t'people I'd never, ever wanna hurt." he says.


She tries to stop, even his resentment at his own pain was felt to the point she was wriggling and worming out of his arms. "I.. I know you didn't mean it but.. Logan.." She sniffles heavily, shuffling towards the end of the bed to stand in a quick motion, forcing her way to the door to grasp the handle of it to tug and pull it open. "You need to leave. Just.. just go.."

It wasn't that she was upset with him, but she had to get right with herself first. It was even a mistake letting him inside of her room when she didn't properly shut herself off. "I'm.. I'm just not ready to be around people right now. I need to be alone." She couldn't even look at him, she was still crying, albeit silently. "Please? I'll.. I'll find you later. I promise."


Logan seems almost stricken that he's caused her such pain. He really was just as broken and dangerous as he said. "I…if that's what you want, darlin'. I…I guess I'll come and…check on you again later. If…it's okay with ya, of course. Don't worry, I'll knock," he says. He pushes up from the bed carefully. He wishes he could protect her from this kind of shit. It makes him crazy, seeing her so hurt.


Jean takes in a deep breath, her gaze planted to the ground as she leans on the door, attempting to keep her back straightened yet her eyes downcast to avoid his gaze. She quickly nods her head in short tilts, her lips pursing tightly, her eyes widening as more tears begin to fall.

"Okay.." She quietly murmurs, trying to find something else to say as he departs.. but there was really nothing. Nothing at all. She just wanted peace and quiet for now.


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