Worth It – by Darlin

-xox-

In the unaccustomed silence in Logan's house he took a quick look around before he pulled out his phone, hit his e-mail app and quickly found what he was looking for in his trash folder, the picture of his ex-girlfriend, one Ororo Munroe. He would look at it, at her, for just a moment he assured himself because, in truth, he hated looking at her picture. He hated thinking about her at all only he couldn't stop thinking about her.

And there she was, smiling, cuddled up to him, friends surrounding them, everyone happy. He loathed seeing her face and that brilliant, bright smile. And yet he ached to see it, to never forget it . . . or her. And yet he'd let her go. Was it worth it? He often wondered. But in the empty silence, he knew.

"No."

His whispered word broke the silence and then as if suddenly aware of his surroundings again, he heard the shuddering, fluttering of birds, a huge flock in the woods behind his house. He moved the curtain aside, peered through the open window, saw them through the screen, swirling and diving as one, synchronized in a way he could never understand. And they just kept coming and coming, hundreds, no, thousands of them, settling on the wet lawn on this unseasonably, warm winter day.

He wanted to jerk the door open suddenly to startle them, giving them reason to take flight and flutter up and away in one big wave in that harmonized way that fascinated him so much. But he didn't have to. Even as he saw more and more birds flying in, a group in the grass scattered upward as one then changed direction in unison, their wings a soft shudder of sound, poetic and beautiful. It was silent for a moment, and then he heard their bird song. And then all he could hear was the sound of the window as it was shoved down hard, loud. Bam!

He didn't notice the sound of the birds fleeing, rising as one as his new girlfriend glared at him there in front of the window. She wasn't really his new girl, they'd been together before Ororo. Now Ororo would've appreciated the sight of birds in motion, the sound of wings like a gasp of air or breath on the wind. He shook his head knowing he was no good with words and wishing he could stop thinking of Ororo. Ororo was a lifetime ago. She was lost to him now.

"Why don't you answer the question?" she asked sharply.

The question was the same one she'd been harping on almost from the day they'd gotten back together. He'd tried to dodge it today by escaping to the kitchen but apparently it wasn't going to be so easy to ignore her this time.

While he wasn't one for words it felt like words were all Jean used. Her lips kept moving, words kept barraging him with accusations and demands. He was annoyed that she'd followed him, had sneaked up on him, surprising him. He slowly, nonchalantly, tucked his phone in his back pocket. She hadn't seemed to notice, he thought before his mind wandered. Jean didn't see beauty in simple things, not like Ororo. What was Ororo doing now? She'd love seeing those birds. What were the birds doing now? Squawking loudly. Maybe feeding. Feeding on what? It had been freezing cold last week, today in the fifties, a respite from scraping ice off windshields and wearing long johns, fighting the bitter cold while hurrying from warm house to cold truck to warm office or to a warm store.

"Oh, my gosh, how creepy! W-what are they doing?" Jean asked as she looked outside curious then a little shaken with the noise.

"Drinking," he said as he noted the scattered puddles in the yard, left over from the last rain.

"So many," she gasped, "hundreds!"

"Thousands," he replied and chuckled. He knew she'd recently watched that old movie The Birds by Hitchcock but then he knew nothing scared Jean much. She was tough. Maybe that's why they got along so well for the most part. But didn't a guy want softness too? He knew she didn't need him. He didn't need her either though. Yet a part of him wanted to be needed. Ororo had needed him. Or at least she'd let him think she did. He'd needed her too.

He sighed peacefully and breathed out one word, "Beautiful."

"Logan?" Jean looked at him, surprised by his comment. Catching the look on her face he thought how little she knew him even though they'd known each other for years. He smirked languidly wishing she'd go away.

Unsure of what he was calling beautiful Jean's anger frothed to the surface. "Just what was so special about her anyway? Was she better in bed than me?" It was the same question that had brought him to the kitchen away from her just minutes ago.

He sighed in exasperation and shook his head, not wanting to go there or anywhere for that matter with this crazy redhead.

"I mean what was so great about her? We have great sex and you know it!"

"She was different that's all!" he burst out in sudden fury.

"Different? What, as in kinky? She did stuff I don't, is that it?"

He didn't want to, knew he shouldn't, and yet he rolled his eyes so hard that they almost hurt. And it set her off just like he'd wanted to prevent but couldn't help triggering.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me, Logan! You walked all the way from your job when your stupid truck broke down just to see her across town and you know you wouldn't do that for me, would you?"

Again, he didn't mean to but he couldn't catch the escaped sigh of desperation and irritation even as he knew it would start her going again. And of course, it did.

"Am I that annoying to you? Why aren't you with her then? I mean if she was all that and a bag of chips then why did you break up with her and come running back to me?"

First, he thought, all that and a bag of chips, was anyone even saying that anymore? And secondly, he hadn't gone running back to her, it had been a chance meeting at a bar, drinks, drunkenness, drunks having sex, and her practically moving in the next day because she apparently thought he was all that and a bag of chips just like the first time. It hadn't worked then, what had made either of them think it could work again?

"What's so wrong with just answering my questions, Logan? Huh? I mean, if you'd just tell me what I want to know then I wouldn't keep asking. How hard is that?"

"Point is, what's any woman got to do with you?" But he quickly added, "Or us?"

"Well, you never walked more than twenty paces to see me! From your stupid truck to the bar or my house to see me! Was she worth it, was she?" she screeched, her jealousy consuming her.

His sigh was more groan this time and he walked over to the door. She followed. Like a weight around his neck he couldn't shake her. And he hated her then, a vacillating hate, however, because he hated himself too. Now she was blocking his way, her anguish and jealousy clear on her reddening face. He knew they were at an impasse. She had to see it too. As well as the truth too, that he was still in love with Ororo. Would he ever be free of Ororo?

"We need to talk this out," she said, her voice lower, desperation laden.

He didn't want to talk, didn't want to talk to her at least. He moved her aside and quickly went out, totally unaware of the thousands of birds in the trees and grassy puddles giving startled flight as one. Before he knew it, he was in his truck, the engine turning over, his foot on the gas, the truck surging forward even as he realized that she'd think he'd gone to see Ororo. But something in him wanted her to think that. Maybe because he wished it were true. Only that's the last place he'd go because Ororo didn't want him anymore.

-xox-

It is late when he goes back. Jean is asleep in his bed. He's in his other bedroom. He didn't want her to know he'd come back. He wished she'd wise up, pack her things, go and never come back. He closes his eyes wishing sleep would come but knowing it wouldn't. He thinks of the last time he slept with Jean. A week ago? Maybe two? Before the cold weather certainly. He thought of going to her, waking her and . . . But no, the sex was good but the price he'd pay!

Sitting on his bed his fingers play over his phone. He's fought it all day, all night, this urge that consumed him hour after hour, day after day, week after week, for as long as he and Jean had gotten back together. But as always, he gives in. The phone number he knows by heart now. He deletes it every night after calling it just in case Jean got hold of his phone and somehow figured out his password which he didn't think was likely but she was pretty slick. His password was his ex's first name, a tricky name he didn't figure she'd know how to spell much less what the corresponding numbers were. He'd mentioned Ororo by name once and wished he hadn't after the rant Jean had given him. He hadn't had the strength to change the password. The thought of changing it actually makes him ache inside. It would be admitting they were really over, that she was out of his life forever and he can't stand that.

The phone rings on the other end. His heart feels heavy. It rings again and his breath is shallow, his stomach unsettled as he waits. And waits. And waits.

"Pick up, darlin'!" he groans, and suddenly she does.

"Hello, Logan," Ororo whispers in a soft voice with a distinct accent. There was no hesitance because he had been calling her every night since she'd called it off with him.

"Hey," he says and smiles as his body relaxes for the first time since the fight with Jean.

"Hey."

After a pause he says, "Those birds you like were here today, thousands of 'em."

He hears Ororo gasp on the other end, then . . .

"I wish I'd seen them, they're so fascinating, just watching how in sync they are with each other."

"Yeah, know what ya mean."

"I haven't seen them since we . . ."

As her words end abruptly he knows he's brought up the wrong subject and he wishes he hadn't as the silence grows. The last time she'd seen that many birds together had been with him about a year ago at his place. Palm to forehead, he thinks, angry with himself.

The silence that follows lasts minutes – had he dozed? Was she still there?

"What did you eat today?" he finally asks, saying anything, just needing to hear her voice.

He hears laughter in her voice as she answers, "Breakfast, two boiled eggs, lunch, lentil vegetable soup, dinner was a salad with walnuts and cheese and my own dressing, and brownies – gluten free, no sugar."

"Stevia?"

She laughed again. "Uh huh."

"Lemon water or stevia soda pop?" he asks, knowing she'd gone gluten free and had been pleased to have dropped ten pounds and kept it off though she hadn't needed to lose anything in his opinion.

"Lemon water," she confirms.

He guesses that she hasn't gone vegan yet despite the spartan diet but he asks anyway.

"No, no I haven't . . . not yet. I like my eggs too much," she reminds him and there's her tinkling laughter that seems to reach out to him through the phone and embrace him.

He forgot she'd had eggs and had wondered what she was waiting for, wished she was waiting for him which was, of course, ridiculous, carnivore that he will always be. But he still wished she were waiting for him.

"Are . . . are you okay, Logan?" She needs to know.

But he can't answer her and he knows she knows this. And so he says nothing. He doesn't know how desperately she wishes he could answer because she wants and needs him to be okay in order to be free of him. Even apart she still wishes she could make everything alright for him. He doesn't know this or that she still longs for him.

"How's your girlfriend?" she asks instead, her voice raw with pain as she reminds herself she has no part in his life now.

"She keeps askin' about you, darlin'," he says and to him and to Ororo that says everything.

There is an even longer silence than before. He does doze this time. Does she, he wonders when he wakes with a start.

"Babe?" His voice is thicker now with sleep and fear, fear that she's gone, that she's left him again.

"I'm here," she whispers, and all his panic subsides.

"Come home," he wishes she would say, "Come back to me." He dreams of going back to her, how he longs to go back to her.

"So," she says, then clears her throat, her phone held at arm's length yet he still hears. "She doesn't want children then?"

The question is like a slap in the face and he kind of thinks she meant it that way although he's not entirely sure. Ororo knows that she meant it to sting.

"What do you think?" he growls, anger too near the surface. Anger at himself. His fault, not hers. He deserved it.

Ororo thinks the other woman will do anything to be with him because he knows how to love a woman in every way. She knows she's lost him despite his constant calls. He hears what he thinks is a choked sob and it wounds him. He loves Ororo and he knows she still loves him. He'd do anything for her and so he finally does just that.

"You love me, Ro," he says though his voice falters. He hears her catch her breath but he forces himself to go on because he's not finished, not finished by a long shot. "Look, you love me, I love you, let's just get married."

He hears her gasp and it's as if he's caught in that small burst of air, held captive, suspended in time for minutes, hours, days . . .

"Yes," he imagines her breathy, joyful answer and then everything would be right in his world. But not yet in her world and he knows this. In order to be with him she will have to sacrifice something she told him she couldn't live without and he knows she won't give in and so he must give in because he loves her that much.

"Babe, I ain't father material . . ." he starts and at the sound of her soft, resigned sigh he groans inwardly.

"I have to go," she says and he hears the sadness in her voice and it wounds him even deeper.

"No, don't hang up, darlin'! I'm just sayin' we love each other, Ro an' we can have kids even if I ain't up to it. You'll be a great mother so that oughta make up for me. Okay?"

"Okay? Are you serious, Logan?"

"Yeah."

She suddenly laughs and the heady happiness she feels seems to wrap him like a warm cocoon.

"So, yeah, huh?" he asks, hopeful.

"Yes!" she responds and squeals and giggles and now everything is right in her world, everything is right in their world.

Later he would remember Jean asleep in the empty house. She was tough though. She'd be alright when she woke up and found his note. He'd given her time to move out, even apologized. Yeah, she'd be alright but he'd known he wouldn't be alright until he was back with Ororo. He'd rushed over to her place and never looked back. And if he ever saw Jean again, though he doubted he would, and if she asked again, was it worth it, giving up his freedom, being saddled with kids? Was she worth it? He had an answer for her. Hell yeah! For Ororo he'd do anything and be happy doing it because he would be with her. He'd learned nothing was worth it if he couldn't be with her. She was worth everything and he wasn't ever letting her go again.

~Finis~

A/N – This story was kind of inspired by Hinder's Lips of an Angel but also by Pa-pa-pa PLAYLIST! By: LeftEyeObsession the first chapter which somehow really stayed with me. And, uh, spoiler alert. Not quite the best news for us RoLo lovers. Has anyone read Extraordinary X-Men #18? A few issues back young Jean from a different time line was talking to Logan from a different time line (hmm), said she knew how he felt about Ororo and I was getting pretty excited for potential RoLo even though this Logan is an old man. Big sigh. Okay, SPOILER! So, in issue #18 (big cringe and huge shudder) there are strong hints of Forge and Ororo!

I personally like Forge. If I didn't like Logan better I'd say sure, go ahead, build a relationship. But I Like Logan Better! I wasn't going to renew my subscription because they never did anything about that little conversation and there were no other hints of RoLo. Now I'm thinking there might just be a triangle. And let's face it that hasn't been done before for our girl Storm. But I'm so uncertain about this and I could care less about their war with the Inhumans whom I really like by the way. But I may just go up the street, around the corner a half mile or so and pop into my local comic book store and see what's up next month, next issue. Hope for RoLo still draws me in. (Pathetic sigh now.) Ah well. Ciao my fellow RoLo lovers and thanks for reading, hoped you liked!