Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own the X-Men.
A/N: Hey, guys! So you know that sequel to 'A Rogue's Fading Light' I was going to start working on? It didn't happen. I planned it out, and had every intention of making it my NaNoWrimo fic, but instead my muse wanted to work on other things. The result? A couple of X-Men: Evo drabbles/oneshots, a couple of mini Rogue fics, and my very first Avengers fic. So I'll try to get some of that edited and posted soon, and also try to actually work on that sequel. In the meantime, here's a little oneshot that takes place after 'Unraveling' and before 'A Rogue's Fading Light'. It probably won't make any sense if you haven't read one or both of those. I hope you like it!
The window behind him was boarded up, allowing only a single stream of light to breach the dusty room. The room smelled of mold, with a lacing of cigarette smoke that had long since soaked into all the furniture. Old take-out containers littered the coffee table and discarded alcohol bottles were scattered around haphazardly.
Logan narrowed his eyes at the opposite wall, where he imagined a terrified and confused four year old with two-toned hair trying to be invisible as her father cursed and yelled. He imagined a pair of innocent eyes tearing up as shards of glass rained down around her.
His fingers dug into the arms of the rotting chair as a quiet growl escaped.
The sound of boots skidding across wood, the planks creaking under the wearer's wait, reached his ears and he smirked. He flexed his hand in preparation as a key turned in the lock. If the guy outside had any idea what was waiting for him in his own garbage heap of a home, he'd probably run the other way.
Fortunately, he didn't have x-ray vision.
A slurred curse escaped the man's mouth as he pushed open the front door and stepped inside. The light that shined into the room, casting light on the old rotting furniture and dust in the air, was abruptly cut off as the door closed again. Logan watched silently, and waited for the idiot to see him.
The mumbled speech and awkward steps told him the other man was drunk, but even without that the smell would have done it. In his drunken haze the guy didn't see that danger was sitting in his living room.
When the man finally looked up and spotted the visitor his eyes widened before squinting in confusion. Logan didn't bother fighting the amused smirk as Bruce swayed on his feet. "Long day?" he asked gruffly, just to see the man squirm.
"Whats the helf are yous doin' here?"
Logan arched an eyebrow at the question, which was barely even recognizable as English. He stood up, and took no small amount of pleasure in seeing the guy shuffle backwards a few steps. "Hit any kids lately?" he growled, taking several slow, menacing steps forward.
"Yer one of 'em mutants."
He took another step forward. "Yep."
Bruce glared, something Logan knew the guy was only capable of because the alcohol had dulled his common sense and self-preservation. "Get outta my." Hiccup. "My house."
Logan scowled, closed the distance in the blink of an eye, and held his unsheathed claws up to the guy's throat. "I'm only gonna say this once, so listen up."
Bruce's eyes widened, and some of the drunken haze suddenly cleared.
'Good,' Logan thought. 'He'll remember this.'
The idiot's eyes flickered from his claws to his face in a gesture of panic. Logan could practically smell his fear, and couldn't be happier about it.
"You ever go near Rogue again, and I'll make you wish you were never born. She ain't your daughter anymore. You've got no right to be near her," he added forcibly.
Bruce sneered, momentarily forgetting the claw tips under his chin. "Good riddance."
Logan pushed the man back against the wall, his claws pressing more firmly into the man's skin. It took all his restraint not to pierce the thin, weak flesh. "You never deserved her," he said lowly. "And she deserved better than you. You better keep lookin' over your shoulder, bud. Because for the rest of your miserable life I'm gonna be watchin' out, and if you put one toe out of line...even think about going near the Institute or Rogue again...I'll be there to rip ya into strips. Got that?"
Bruce struggled weakly, and gave no answer.
Logan growled lowly and pressed his claws even further into his neck, drawing a few drops of blood. "I said, do ya got that?"
The struggling died down, and the idiot's eyes darted around the room before settling on Logan once more. He nodded weakly. "Got it."
He remained there a moment longer, once again fighting with himself not to kill the man on the spot. After a few prolonged seconds he finally pulled back and let his claws retract. "Don't you forget it," he added menacingly.
With that he turned and stalked out of the house, leaving Bruce a shaking mess as he slid down the wall. He slung a leg over his bike and cast one last glance at the run-down shack of a house before starting up the motorcycle and heading back towards New York. It was a long trip, but he was satisfied with the results.
He'd gotten his point across.
A/N: Thanks for reading! What did you think?