Note: This story is part of the Marvel-Bang and the outstanding art for this story is by the incredibly talented Whipbogard. If you are on tumblr I strongly recommend you follow!
Summary: An eighteen year old Scott Summers goes on a mission that end up horribly wrong. When he ends up stranded in Canada away from his team in bitter weather conditions he has a chance encounter that causes him to cross paths with Logan. Logan takes Scott in and grudgingly offers to help Scott find his way back to his team. However, before that can happen the two make surprising discoveries about one another that leads to an undeniable attraction and uncovers a history of violence behind them at the hands of William Stryker. (Set in between Wolverine Origins and the original X-Men film; written as a loose prequel to another fan work I did called Starting Over)
xxxxx
Things had gone from bad to worse for Scott Summers as he trekked through the ice and snow hoping to seek out shelter from the endless storm that surrounded him. Yes, maybe he'd half listened to the weather report when they'd warned that Canada was in the midst of blizzard-like conditions, but he hadn't thought it would apply to him. He'd hoped the mission would be simple enough-his first big chance to prove to Xavier that his faith hadn't been misplaced in the youthful squad leader of the X-Men. It was bad enough that Scott had heard the rumors from his arrival at the school, listening to the whispers and snickers about the inevitable 'special favors' Scott must've been paying Xavier to get such an honor. However, despite their bitterness and hatred Scott knew he'd worked hard to achieve such a merit. He trained endlessly, refusing to show an ounce of weakness in his quest for Xavier's approval. It meant the world to him, made him want to prove that he's grown beyond the scared child he once was. It was a driving force, but now all of Xavier's faith felt misplaced when Scott thought of the mission gone wrong.
Yes, it seemed simple enough, Scott had thought at the time. He would simply go to Canada with a team, survey the area and check out the mutant activity in the area. He'd assured Xavier that he'd been up for the task, that he was more than capable to lead the others even in his youth. They'd come out here in the hopes that they could find a few more potential students, maybe even others with the same thoughts of peace and equality as they'd believed in at Xavier's school. It had been up to Scott and his team to encourage that union, to help them find their way to the school, but just when Scott thought everything was under his control, the storm began. At first it was nothing, merely a blip on his radar, but soon it started to mess with the jet, causing Scott to make a crash landing in the middle of nowhere. The jet was worse for wear, but fortunately the others had been able to make it out of the impromptu landing unscathed.
"So much for your fine leadership skills Cyclops," one of his team mates had taunted, goading him towards that inferiority complex Scott struggled with on a daily basis.
"He made the right decision," another had offered up supportively, but it wasn't before long that they were under attack. Something went horribly wrong and they were forced to fight an unknown enemy force. That's when everything went to hell.
Now buried up to his thighs in snow, his body near locking up in the frigid temperature, he knew that he needed to find help. He had to alert Xavier to the fact that the others were missing, that the team had been scattered in battle and Scott wasn't sure what had come of them.
"Some team leader you are," Scott could hear an inner voice taunting, reminding him of his inadequacy. Though in all honesty it hadn't been his fault with what had happened. The truth was he hadn't been prepared for it in all of his training. Yes, he'd taken out a few of the enemies when in battle, but when he'd felt the threat was gone, he'd discovered his team was missing as well. He'd searched for hours, struggling to save them, wondering if the battle had done them under, but instead he'd found nothing. It was just emptiness and snow. Lots of it.
Now the snow taunted him. It condemned him to walk alone, to continue his endless search for shelter-for help and understanding, but instead it continued to blanket him in white. It's unrelenting, violent fury poured down upon him making him realize that there was no reprieve in sight. His resolve was fading, his hopes for saving the others waning and as he treaded through the snow he could hear an inner voice urging him to just give up. It cajoled him to stop fighting the fight, to give in to the temptation to fall to the ground and simply let go. It was seductive, powerful and trying to free Scott of the heavy burden on his shoulders, encouraging him to let go of all control…to simply cease to exist. It wanted him to surrender, to give up the fight, but before Scott would allow himself to succumb to the siren call, he felt the first glimmer of hope upon him in the form of smoke in the sky about two hundred yards away. There was a building in sight. It was a small darkened place before him and for the first time in his two days of traveling on his own Scott felt a renewed sense to keep moving on in pushing his feet forward.
xxxxx
Logan sank back on the barstool finishing off his third beer of the night. While he knew it wasn't going to make a difference how many of them he would have, he'd hoped they would provide him with a little warmth on the night he'd ventured out into. It wasn't that he was looking for company, but rather after a while the walls of the cabin simply became suffocating-a reminder of the loneliness his life had brought upon him. Yes, he didn't need anyone, hadn't wanted to burden anyone else with his dangerous curse, yet on a night like tonight with the winds howling and the snow threatening to take the world under, he knew that he needed a change of scenery.
"Want another?" the barkeep questioned motioning to Logan's now empty glass.
He nodded gruffly, "Sure, why not?"
"Same answer every night," the barkeep laughed, wiping his hands on the towel before reaching for Logan's glass and filling it up again, "Hell of a night out there, isn't it?"
"I've seen worse," Logan shrugged his shoulders, slumping down further as he thought of the cigar in his pocket. He contemplated lighting it, but refrained figuring he'd save it for tonight when he was alone at his cabin.
"I'll bet you have," the barkeep gave Logan a long once over. Logan knew that look. He'd received it a lot through the years…well, at least through the years he could remember. He knew he wasn't pretty, wasn't the type of guy that didn't raise suspicions with his sour demeanor and overwhelming presence. Most of the time people feared him. They stayed away and although Logan had pondered it more often than not, he liked it that way. Being alone was safer. It was easier to work with in his lifestyle traveling from place to place. It gave him reason to refrain from staying in one place too long, from making any kind of ties to the world around him that would simply leave him even more alone in the end.
"We're going to be closing soon," the barkeep announced breaking through Logan's thoughts.
"I'm almost finished here," Logan explained hearing the sound of the door opening. A gust of wind cut through the warmth of the bar, sending tiny snow flurries into the room when Logan looked up to see a tall, slender, awkward hint of a man staggering into the bar. He was dressed in blue and yellow, looking a bit like a pilot with a thin jacket and gloves on. His skin was bright red, his hair coated in white from the blizzard outside. His eyes were covered by sunglasses that matched the color of his skin and when he opened his mouth to speak it seemed no sound fell from his lips.
"We're about to close," the barkeep explained giving the new arrival a weary glance. Despite his disheveled appearance, the one thing that stood out was that he was an outsider. That in itself wasn't going to get him anywhere given that they weren't welcomed in these parts, Logan realized turning around to reach for his beer again. Although the kid looked like hell, Logan knew the drill. He would be escorted out, sent on his way and then things would return to normal once the kid was gone.
"Please," the cracked voice finally found sound beyond the cold, "I just need to use your phone. You have one, y-yes?"
"It's broken and we're about to close," the barkeep explained setting his hand towel down on the top of the bar. "You're going to have to leave."
"You've got to be kidding me," the boy gulped down hard, the sound reaching through Logan's ears and sounding almost painful in the midst of the smoke and music of the bar. He could sense the desperation in the kid's tone, tried to ignore it, but with each unsteady step the kid took towards him, Logan tensed up feeling a sudden familiarity creep in over him, invading his senses.
"I can pay for a drink," the boy's teeth chattered relentlessly, his voice cracked and youthful despite the bitterness he'd clearly endured for the night.
"You don't look old enough for anything we have here," the barkeep eyed him suspiciously when the rest of the eyes in the bar returned to normal, no longer interested in the youthful stranger.
"You strike me as the kind of guy that it doesn't really matter if I was," the boy threw some money on the countertop from behind his gloved hand, "Besides I just want a drink and then to use your phone. After that I'll be on my way and you can forget you ever saw me."
The barkeep snatched up the money, "I already told you kid, we don't have a phone here."
"Then can you at least point me in the direction of the nearest phone?" he questioned with a raw, desperation in his voice. The barkeep ignored the boy, pouring him a beer before setting it down on the top of the bar.
"You've got five minutes to finish this and get out of here because the last thing I want is trouble," the barkeep warned before walking away.
The boy said nothing simply reached for the glass behind shaky hands and raised it to his lips. Logan could see his reflection in the mirror, watching as the trembling fingers worked to pour the beer in between his lips, hoping to get it down in a frenzy. He gulped harder, swallowing as if he hadn't had a drink in days in between choking on the alcohol. It was then that Logan took a good, hard look at the boy. His skin was almost bluish, his lips chapped and skin weathered from the storm that had surrounded them. If Logan had to guess judging by the boy's demeanor he couldn't have had a drink or even a decent meal for days. When he finished off the beer, he set the glass down on the top of the bar before turning to look up at Logan.
"Do you have a phone?" he questioned simply, his lips curling downward in desperation.
"Don't believe in them kid," Logan shrugged dismissively, realizing he'd spent far too much time scrutinizing the boy beside him. "You'll find most don't in these parts."
"Great," he sighed tipping his head down. Although Logan couldn't see the boy's eyes, he noticed the way that the kid's face was tilted in such a fashion that there was no mistaking his gaze was upon the bowl of peanuts in front of Logan. Logan hesitated before sliding the bowl out across the bar towards him.
"I'm done with these," Logan remarked with a casual shrug. He watched the boy hesitate before reaching for the bowl and shoving the peanuts into his mouth. He practically choked on them, unable to get them in fast enough in his obvious hunger. Logan listened to the sounds of the boy hurriedly pushing them down his throat, desperate and all too eager for any kind of sustenance. He choked again, this time with a deeper cough than before causing the barkeep to return with a scowl.
"I thought I told you that you had to go," the barkeep snarled at the new arrival.
"He's fine," Logan surprised himself with his words, not quite sure why he was taking up for the skinny kid who'd walked into the local haunt. "although he might need another drink."
"Fine, but whatever happens it's on you," the bartender warned as Logan placed some money down on top of the bar.
"Yeah okay," Logan tapped his own empty glass as well motioning that he was in need of a refill. The barkeep grudgingly moved to fill Logan's request before the boy beside Logan spoke up again.
"Thank you," he replied with genuine warmth behind his tone. It was the first time since his arrival that his voice had finally evened out. It made him sound far less youthful after he had a few seconds to warm up. However, as the boy reached out for his beer taking a long drink of it, Logan couldn't help, but note the flawless lines of the boy's face. The perfectly sculpted cheekbones, the bluish lips that would otherwise be alluring in their perfection, the bridge of the cold nose that he suspected wasn't used to these conditions and the eyes, well those were still hidden behind the glasses, but Logan found himself suspecting they wouldn't be any less remarkable than the youthful Adonis at his side. The boy was beautiful in his own right, pretty enough to have gained anyone's attention outside of the aloof bar, yet uneasy enough for him not to have realized the charms he could've very easily used upon the world around him. The youthful innocence worked for him, making Logan sit in silent appreciation of the view in spite of himself. Then again to think it proved that Logan had been alone too long. With that thought weighing on his mind, Logan looked away dismissing the notion of admiring the kid beside him any longer.
"My name's Scott," the kid explained holding his gloved hand out towards Logan.
"I didn't ask," Logan refused to look at him, not bothering to respond to the kid's words. He closed his eyes feeling a strangeness building inside of him, a sensation he was unable to shake when the scent of the kid lingered over him. He smelled good, far too incredible for these parts, Logan realized knowing that the stranger was completely out of his element.
"Fine," disappointment carried over Scott's tone, "then maybe you can just point me in the direction of a phone since no one around here seems to have one."
"You'll find that to be true in these parts," Logan finally forced himself to look at the boy again, "Phones don't really hold any relevance out here."
"Great," Scott's lips parted with a scowl, "that's just wonderful. I get marooned in a place where there's no semblance of modern technology around me. All I want to do is get home and…"
"Where is home exactly?" Logan questioned in spite of himself.
"New York," Scott answered quietly, "at least it is for now."
"Now?" Logan repeated with a sudden curiosity overtaking him, "Where was it before?"
"Alaska," Scott's voice tapered off, growing even more uneasy, "but that was a long time ago."
"Alaska, huh?" Logan gave the kid a long once over, taking in his strange uniform, "You'd think being a native of Alaska, you'd know how to dress for these weather conditions."
"I wasn't planning on any of this," Scott sighed heavily, defeat carrying over his words, "None of this was on my agenda."
"Oh yeah? Well what was…?" Logan asked wondering why he gave a damn about what the kid was up to. It wasn't his problem.
"I was actually…" Scott sat up straighter, beginning to open up to Logan without the same fear or concerns that others had around him. It seemed that the boy had looked beyond Logan's gruff appearance and was simply grateful for the conversation. It was a surprising change for Logan-one that he was almost welcoming when another patron at the bar approached them.
"You said you're looking for a phone?" an oversized balding man with a thick, reddish goatee questioned giving Scott a long once over.
"Yeah, I am," Scott replied eagerly, turning around to face the overwhelming man before him. He gulped down, not quite sure he wanted to answer before he continued, "I need to get in contact with someone and…"
"His sister has a phone at her place," the man pointed to an equally shady looking man over by the pool table who was tattooed and finishing off his beer with a predatory stare. The man's companion licked his lips and waved over at Scott. "We could take you with us over there if you would like."
"I um…" Scott began nervously, uncertain of the offer that was being laid out to him.
"It's not that far away. It's about a twenty minute drive," the man continued flashing Scott a predatory grin, "with my truck we can get through the snow pretty easily and…"
"Well, I guess if you have a phone I could use then…." Scott shrugged, preparing to stand up and accompany the man.
"He's not going anywhere with you," Logan finally decided sensing the lie upon the man's lips. Although he hadn't wanted to get involved, he knew full well the type of character the man before him had. He could sniff out bullshit. It was something he'd been surrounded by for years when it came to human nature. When the lies came pouring out, Logan could feel them surround him, suffocating him with their dark intentions. Hell, he hadn't ignored the way that the man had coveted Scott when he'd walked into the bar. He'd even heard the muted whispers between the two men who had spent far too many nights alone in the Canadian winter without any real entertainment. They'd pondered the things they'd wanted to do Scott without censoring themselves in their whispers. They hadn't assumed anyone would hear them, but Logan had. He'd filtered it to some degree, but now as Scott stood before him ready to trust the duplicitous man before him, Logan couldn't help, but react. "Back off!"
"It's up to the kid what he wants," the man looked past Logan to where Scott stood uneasily. "He needs to get to a phone and we can help him with that."
"Like hell," Logan snarled refusing to budge as he stood between Scott and the man before him, "Back off."
"No, you back off. The kid's coming with us," the man remarked dismissively, "Come on. Grab your things and we'll get you to that phone."
"He's lying," Logan turned around to face Scott fully, "He doesn't have a phone and that man over there doesn't have a sister. It's a setup."
"Listen," the man shoved Logan hard, harder than he should have when Logan snarled.
"No you listen," Logan roared, his eyes wild with anger, "you stay away from the boy. He's not going anywhere with you."
"Who the hell are you to say what he can or cannot do?" the man pushed at Logan's chest again, sending him back into the top of the bar. The empty beer glasses crashed down to the floor, the remainder of the peanuts spilling up into the air before flying out across the back of the bar. Logan snarled, standing up straighter and speaking up behind gritted teeth.
"You're going to wish you hadn't done that," Logan warned feeling his anger getting the best of him when the man before him reached into his denim pocket pulling out a revolver.
"No you're the one that's going to wish you hadn't…" the man waved the gun in Logan's face before speaking up to Scott. "Go get in the truck boy and we'll get you to that phone."
"No," Scott shook his head furiously, "I don't think so. I'm going to stay here."
"You don't have a choice boy," the man waved the gun over in Scott's direction; "I'm no longer asking you. Get in the truck with my pal."
"I don't think so," Logan charged the man before him, attempting to pull the gun out of Scott's face.
Scott ducked down, catching a glimpse of the man's companion approaching with a pool stick in his hand, preparing to use it as a weapon against Logan. Springing into action Scott leapt forward, kicking out and using his martial arts skills to subdue the man. He flipped the cue stick out of the man's hand, causing it to spin up into the air before Scott caught it. The man charged towards Scott, his eyes wild with rage when Scott whipped the cue stick around in the air, sending it into the man's stomach without hesitation. The man doubled over in pain at the force of the blow, groaning in agony when Scott raised it up again, slamming it down over his neck and shoulders with enough force to cause the man to drop to the ground. The cue stick broke in half at the impact of the blow causing Scott to improvise. He slammed both sides of it against the man's neck, driving it over the man's shoulders before dropping the pieces. He reached for a glass pitcher of beer that had been on a nearby table and sent it crashing down over the man's head effectively knocking the man out. It was then that Scott heard the sound of a gunshot.
Turning around, Scott's eyes widened behind his glasses, surprise coiling through his body when he watched the man who'd been helping him drop to the ground. His body was hunched over beside the fallen bar stools, his arm sprawled out across the floor dropped down in a pool of blood that Scott suspected was his own.
"No," Scott rushed forward preparing to tear the shooter to pieces, ready to continue to fight back when he felt something crash down over his head. He could hear the sound of shattering glass right before he felt an indistinguishable pain in the back of his head before everything fell to darkness.
xxxxx
A gasp fell from Scott's lips as he awakened from his nightmare with a start. He couldn't get the air into his lungs fast enough. His body was covered with sweat and the pressure from his glasses wasn't there on his face indicating his glasses were gone. Keeping his eyes closed tightly, he tried to control his breathing, to forget the bloodied images of a hammer that had tortured his subconscious endlessly night after night when he was haunted by his time being held captive by William Stryker. Xavier had promised over time the horror would fade away, but Scott was no longer convinced. He'd felt them slip out of his mind for a while hoping their lingering presence in his life would finally fade out, but each time he thought he'd made progress they returned to torture him. He was brought back to that place where he'd been tormented, ripped from the life he had before coming to the school. He could feel their taunts, could feel their hands upon him, breaking him, tearing him to pieces all because he'd fought back. It made him sick to his stomach imagining what might've happened had he not been strong enough to stand his ground. Even if they'd taken him to death's door, there was no way that…
Scott's thoughts came to an abrupt ending when he felt the warmth of sheets wrapped around his body. He was in a bed, he realized, but something was different. Stretching his fingers out across the blankets he took in the texture of the sheets. They were flannel, stitched differently than his had been. They were coarser, with a different kind of softness and suddenly Scott found himself on edge realizing he wasn't back at the school. Panic began to set in when he thought back to the crash, to the battle that followed and his journey through the snow.
"The bar," Scott gasped aloud remembering the confrontation that had ensued once the two men had tried to bait him into leaving with him. He could recall the fight he'd entered into, the man who had been at the bar trying to help him and then the gunshot.
"No," Scott's jaw dropped in horror. Instinctively he brought his hand up over his chest surprised to feel that his uniform was gone. His chest was bare and with the sheet around his legs, revealing the flannel to him, he was struck by a sudden fear.
"Please no," Scott threw the blankets back relieved to discover when his hand moved over his thigh that he was in his boxer shorts, not naked in the strange bed he'd awakened in. He reached out across the mattress hoping to feel his way around as he wondered how he'd gotten there. Had the men at the bar taken him away once they'd shot his reluctant companion? Were they keeping him locked up for their own brand of sadistic torment after they'd managed to subdue him? Scott could feel a lump on his head indicating that he'd been hit, but everything else felt…strained, but not tortured. His body wasn't broken. He could still move around with no real pain except for the traces of wind exposure and exhaustion that must've carried over him in his journey. However, waking up in a strange bed was a sign it was time to pull it together.
"Where am I?" Scott questioned stretching his hand out further to feel the corner of a nightstand beside him. He'd hoped to find his glasses on top of it, but much to his dismay they weren't around. He frowned attempting to open what he suspected was the top drawer when there was a sound from another part of the place he was being held in. He sat up straighter listening, bracing himself for whatever would inevitably follow when the sound of footsteps moved through the area. He was certain he'd heard a door slamming, maybe even a gust of wind and…
"You have to get dressed and get out of here," a voice warned causing Scott to haphazardly slide out of the bed, hoping to feel his way out of wherever he was. He staggered through the room, keeping his hands out in front of him, bracing himself for whatever would follow. The floor beneath his toes was wooden, smooth and warm to the touch surprisingly. The grooves beneath his toes were a sign of craftsmanship, of real work that had been put into the process, indicating someone had spent a lot of time and effort into creating it. He heard a floor panel creak beneath his toes and he paused simply just listening and waiting. Knowing that he was stripped down to his boxer shorts Scott realized that rushing out into the frigid cold wasn't going to help anything. He'd freeze to death before he could make it even a mile away if the winds were keeping up as they had been the night before. Still in not knowing where he was, Scott realized he had to fight back. He had to break free before…
Another sound erupted, guiding Scott back against the wall leading into the hallway. He sucked in a breath, standing up straighter and bracing himself against the drywall in the hopes of shrinking away just long enough for him to formulate a plan of escape. If only he could reach Xavier, if only Xavier had known to look for him, to seek him out in the coldest part of Canada, but Scott knew it was an impossibility. Even with Cerebro at his disposal, Scott had a feeling it would be difficult for Charles to locate him. He was too far north, too away from civilization for Xavier to get there fast enough especially if danger was on the horizon. Saying a silent prayer Scott listened again realizing that it had gone silent in the place he was being held captive in. If he could just find a way out or even some clothing…
There were footsteps again. They were approaching, moving in on Scott, causing him to panic. He thought back to the way the man with the gun had snarled at him, to the way that danger was surrounding him when he gulped. Hard. He tried to remember his training, to put his skill to good use as he vowed not to be a victim again. He wouldn't be helpless, not like he'd been in that facility when those people were testing on him, hurting him. Never again. When the footsteps grew nearer, Scott sprung forward ready to attack by any means necessary. He sent his fist out, flinging it into what he hoped was his captors face when he felt a tight grip on his wrist.
"Whoa there slugger," laughter surrounded him, "I thought I heard you were awake."
"Where am I?" Scott demanded attempting to dislodge his wrist. However, the grip surrounding him intensified, not enough to hurt him, but enough to prevent him from trying to strike the man before him.
"You're safe now so relax," he explained with a breath as Scott recognized the sound of the voice. It was the man from the bar, the one he'd watched fall to the ground after being shot.
"No," Scott gasped thinking about what he'd witnessed before being knocked out, "you can't be here. You're dead. I saw that man shoot you."
"He wasn't that lucky with his aim I guess," the fingers released Scott's wrist, allowing it to drop down to his side with confusion, "He should've known better than to bring a gun to a knife fight."
"What?" Scott questioned blankly not understanding the small trace of laughter he'd heard in the man's voice. A moment later he felt an oversized paper bag being pushed into his arms.
"Put those on and then we'll get some food in you kid," the voice suggested as Scott involuntary wrapped his arms around the bag he'd been presented with.
"What is this?" Scott asked wearily, his eyes still closed tightly and keeping him from seeing the man's face before him.
"It's clothing," the man explained simply. "Figured you wouldn't fit into anything I had and your things were soaked."
"Where are they?" Scott demanded with an uncertainty in his voice. "Where are my glasses?"
"Next to the bed," there was a long pause, "You okay kid?"
"I can't see without them," Scott answered unsure how much to reveal to the stranger before him, "I need them."
"You blind kid?" surprise registered in the stranger's voice.
Scott nodded, "Something like that. They just help…"
"Okay," Scott felt a hand on his arm, fingers curling in against his bare skin. He tensed up, taking in a breath of contemplation before allowing himself to relax when he realized they meant no harm.
"I'll take you back to the bedroom to find them," the voice softened, a genuine concern carrying over the man's tone. "You know for a blind kid, you sure fight pretty well. I saw what you did to that guy with the cue stick and…"
"I'm not blind really," Scott contemplated his words before clearing his throat, "it's just without the glasses my eyes are so light sensitive that I can't see without them. It's painful not having them and…"
"You don't have to explain," fingers released him. Scott stood still, feeling the stranger move away, shuffling around the room before the sound of footsteps returning grew stronger. He felt the man pull the bag from his arms, taking it somewhere else before he returned to deposit the glasses in Scott's palm. "Here you are."
"Thank you," Scott let out a long breath of relief, bringing his glasses up to his face and putting them on. He adjusted them, taking a moment to recover from the jolt of surprise he'd experienced in waking up without them. When his eyes opened he looked around the room discovering they were in a rustic cabin of sorts, away from the bitter sting of the winter winds that surrounded them. Turning his head to the side, Scott discovered the man at the bar standing a few feet away from him watching him with a newfound curiosity. The expression on the man's face made Scott gulp, had him wondering just how long he'd been unconscious as the man remained still clearly sizing Scott up just as Scott was doing to him.
"You can see now?" the man questioned after a long, contemplative glance.
Scott nodded, "A lot better than I could without them. This is safer for the both of us."
"Safer?" he raised a curious brow. "Is that right?"
Scott nodded again, "It's a long story."
"In that case that's my cue to exit. Those long stories aren't really my scene," the man revealed motioning to the bag he'd placed down on the oversized bed Scott had awakened in. It was larger than Scott had anticipated; looking far more welcoming than it had felt when Scott had risen without an inkling of where he was. He suspected the blankets were a blue and red checkered pattern, but he couldn't be sure given that the colors were always off behind the glasses he wore. He could merely assume that was the color scheme leading to the pillows Scott had rested upon. "Those should fit you I think. There wasn't a lot to choose from at the thrift store, but…"
"Thank you," Scott replied turning to face the man again, "I know you didn't have to, but…"
"Yeah, sure," he turned to leave offering Scott the privacy to get dressed.
"Wait," Scott called out to him, "do you have a name?"
"I do," he nodded before slipping out into the hallway and leaving Scott alone.
"What is it?" Scott questioned loudly, hoping to know more about the man who had rescued him from the impending danger at the bar.
"Logan," he mouthed in a neutral tone, giving Scott the first inclination of something about the man who had saved him.
"Logan," Scott repeated knowing full well that while he wasn't out of hot water yet, it was a hell of a lot better to end up in Logan's care. At least from what he'd seen so far, Logan beat the hell out of the winter madness that surrounded Scott before his journey into the bar. Maybe just maybe Logan would prove to be useful in helping him find his way back to Xavier after all.
Xxxxx
The clothing was a bit snug on Scott when he'd pushed the light colored turtleneck in over his head. It itched a bit as it was made of a woolen material that Scott found to be rather uncomfortable. However, in looking at the alternative to this particular shirt Scott had selected, he realized the other would leave his scars on display, something Scott hadn't been proud of. Even though he and Logan had spoken with one another earlier when Scott had been stripped down, Logan hadn't said anything about the scars. He hadn't questioned them or even stared indicating that he hadn't bothered to notice. That was a relief in itself, Scott had decided knowing only too well that he wasn't about to open up the door to that conversation with anyone anytime soon. He cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt, stretching it out just a bit before turning his attention to the jeans Logan had selected for him. Again, they were a bit snug, even with Scott's slender frame and he sucked in a breath to button them up. They were uncomfortable as well, but they were better than nothing, Scott decided upon taking a glimpse at his reflection in the mirror. Maybe if he didn't decide to sit or eat anything he'd do fine in wearing them. He could walk and that had to be something.
"Here goes nothing," Scott thought to himself as he moved to the bedroom door, opting to walk out and explore the cabin with the luxury of his glasses on his face. He moved freely through the hallway, surprised to find no decorations on the walls. There weren't any kind of family photos surrounding him, just meager furnishings up ahead with a worn sofa and a couple of chairs in the living room. As Scott surveyed the area further, he discovered there wasn't any real sign of technology before him either. There wasn't a television, a radio or anything else to indicate the man he was with had any kind of ties to the modern world.
At the far corner of the room there were, however, a couple of bookshelves filled with old novels. Scott stepped forward finding himself intrigued by the collection especially after seeing rare first print editions of the classics before him. Scott reached up to touch the binding of one of them, feeling its fragile texture beneath his fingertips when a voice beckoned him.
"Careful with those," Logan warned simply, "they're a lot older than you are."
"I'm well aware of that," Scott extracted one of the books from the shelf carefully and brushed his finger over the binding, "but that doesn't make them any less appealing. You have a small fortune on your hands with these. They're originals, aren't they?"
"I suppose," Logan shrugged walking into the room with a steaming mug in hand, "but to me they're simply something to do on a long, cold night out here."
"To me they're thrilling," Scott spun around to face Logan fully, "I love this book."
"You do?" Logan raised a curious brow, eyeing Scott with a long, moment of scrutiny.
"I do," Scott nodded before pointing to another, "and this one as well."
"Aren't they a little dated for you kid?" Logan held the mug out towards Scott and collected the book from Scott's hand. He put it back on the shelf and turned his back to Scott.
"I might be young, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the classics when they're presented to me," Scott mouthed in insult, "I'm rather fond of them actually."
"That's rare from someone your age," Logan shrugged simply before moving aside to the kitchen area he'd emerged from a few seconds earlier, "Then again some of them bore the hell out of me as well truth be told. I'm not really a books kind of guy. I'd rather be out living life instead of staying inside reading about someone else's adventures."
"You could've fooled me with all of these," Scott nodded to the bookshelves again, "You seem to be a very avid reader."
"They aren't all mine," Logan divulged simply.
"Are they your wife's?" Scott couldn't help, but ask trying to get a feel for the man before him. He stepped through the room, taking in Logan's meager furnishings again, hoping to get a sense of the man who had rescued him.
"Not married," Logan shrugged his shoulders again before raising his head up to issue Scott a small warning glance when Scott bent down to touch the antique lamp on the table not far from the sofa, "not much for company either."
"Fair enough," Scott stood up taller, releasing the lamp he'd been intrigued by. He moved to push his hands into his pockets, rethinking it when he remembered how tight the jeans were on him.
"Those look a bit snug," Logan replied in between chopping carrots.
"They're good enough," Scott answered graciously, not about to be rude to his host, "they'll do until my uniform is dry."
"Speaking of which," Logan paused setting the knife down he'd been working with, "you in the military kid? You look a bit young to be involved with that."
"I'm not as young as I look," Scott asserted with a firm breath, "I'm eighteen. Almost nineteen actually."
"Eighteen," Logan couldn't help, but laugh, "yeah what was I thinking? You're an old man now, aren't you kid?"
"I feel like it at times," Scott revealed thoughtlessly. He caught the expression on Logan's face before trying to cover, "So you really don't have a phone, do you?"
"Do I look like I would be the kind of person to have a phone around here?" Logan motioned to his surroundings before pushing the carrots he'd been chopping into a pot, "I like to keep it simple."
"Simple," Scott repeated with a slight hesitation, "cold is more like it."
"Hey," Logan snapped back at him, "you could be out there freezing your ass off right now, so I think I would choose my words carefully if I were you. I could've left you back at the bar to deal with those two idiots."
"Forgive me," Scott apologized realizing the error in his words, "it's not that I'm ungrateful. I'm just, well, perhaps I'm just disoriented by everything that happened. Before I lost consciousness I could've sworn that you were shot. I saw you on the ground and…"
"You were out of consciousness for two days kiddo. I'm sure you thought you saw a lot of crazy things that you didn't," Logan shrugged revealing nothing in response to Scott's hint of questioning.
"Two days," Scott gulped down harder than before, "I've been here for two days?"
"Almost three by this point in time," Logan nodded. He faced Scott again, tilting his head to the side before meeting his eyes through the glasses, "I was starting to wonder if you were going to be alright. If it wasn't for the nightmares you were having, I would've been worried that…"
"Nightmares," Scott repeated with a tiny shudder knowing of the visions that had haunted him, "Was I….?"
"They let me know you were still alive and breathing," Logan shrugged dismissively, "That's all that mattered to me. I figured you'd sort it all out when you woke up."
"Yeah, that might prove to be difficult given that you don't believe in modern technology," Scott walked over to the countertop before him. He reached for one of the barstools beside it and took a seat. He set his mug down on the countertop, not bothering to take a drink, but rather simply finding himself enjoying the steam that rose up from its hot surface to brush against his palm, "I have to get into contact with my headmaster and let him know that I'm alright."
"Headmaster? As in school?" Logan gave him another long once over, "You a runaway?"
"Graduate student," Scott stated simply, catching the expression on Logan's face, "I told you I'm not that young."
"You said you were eighteen," Logan wrinkled his nose at him.
"Eighteen and graduated with honors before I was seventeen," Scott boasted with an air of pride surrounding him, "I breezed through the college courses doing most of my undergraduate work in about a year and…"
"So you're a smart one?" Logan's brow perked up with interest. "Then how the hell did you wind up out here?"
"I had a lot of time on my hands with the schooling to study and as for being here," Scott let out an exaggerated sigh, "I'm starting to wonder why I thought it was a good idea as well."
"So if you don't mind my asking, what were you doing out here?" Logan stirred the stew he was working on quickly putting together.
"I thought I was showing everyone that I could handle things on my own, but apparently I wasn't ready for that much responsibility yet," Scott explained poignantly, his guilt and uneasiness getting the best of him in his confession. "My team came out here to complete a mission. It should've been simple enough and with me in charge, well I thought I could control it, but…"
"But what?" Logan questioned.
"We were blindsided and everything went to hell. I tried to find them, but we were separated from one another. For all I know they could still be out there struggling to find shelter and…" Scott's words tapered off with worry. He raised his chin up to meet Logan's eyes again, "I have to find them."
"Have you taken a look outside recently kid? Neither one of us are going anywhere for a while, so you may as well settle yourself in," Logan explained with a shake of his head, "I'm sure whatever happened, it wasn't your fault."
"I never should've allowed our flight to go down like it did," Scott cursed himself silently, "It was stupid and foolish…"
"Hey, I'm sure it was unavoidable," Logan softened his tone, "You don't strike me as the type to surround himself with mistakes."
"I feel like that's all I'm ever immersed in lately," Scott let out an ironic laugh, "Here I was trying to prove I deserved the title of squad leader and I blew it. I could've cost my teammates their lives and…"
"That's a lot of pressure to put on a kid. Graduate school, being in the military," Logan shook his head and sighed, "you're far too young for that kind of life."
"I'm not that young," Scott defended sharply, "and besides I've seen things. I've experienced life and I know things that most people don't."
"Me too kid and I can assure you it doesn't end well the longer you get sucked into it," Logan mouthed in response, worry creasing his brow as he looked at Scott. "You should be enjoying life. You know playing ball, dating all the wrong people, or the right ones depending on how you look at it. You should be having fun, not taking the weight of the world on your shoulders."
"Why the hell do you care what I do?" Scott answered abrasively.
"I don't," Logan stood up taller, "I was just saying."
"Well don't," Scott snapped back at him, "I don't need your advice or your concern. I just need…"
"My food and shelter, right?" Logan mouthed in offense. "Of course instead of offering up a little gratitude for having me take you in I'm met by this attitude of yours."
"That's not what I was," Scott attempted to defend himself when he caught the expression on Logan's face.
"Sure you were because you're looking for someone to unload on right now in your frustration, but I can assure you it's not me," Logan scoffed in response, a growl building in the back of his throat, "I don't need it kid."
"I'm not a kid," Scott snapped, spinning on his heel and turning around to face him with a glare, "quit calling me that."
"Stop acting like one," Logan challenged motioning to the pot on the stove. "The stew should be done shortly. Eat all you want."
"Wait a second," Scott watched Logan move through the living room reaching for his coat and putting it on, "where are you going? You said neither one of us could get anywhere in this weather, so where do you think you're…?"
"To get some air," Logan answered gruffly, his words harsh and abrasive as he stomped out of the cabin, giving them both some much needed space after it was clear that neither was adjusting to their new situation with one another very well.
"But you'll freeze…" Scott mouthed to himself when the door slammed leaving him alone in Logan's home with nothing more than the reminders of his failure to surround him in Logan's absence.
xxxxx
"What were you thinking?" Logan mouthed to himself while trudging through the snow. Making his way back to the cabin with firewood in his arms he thought about how he'd foolishly brought the boy back home with him. It had been a mistake, but at the same time there was something familiar about him that Logan couldn't quite shake. His scent was overwhelmingly indistinguishable as if Logan had experienced it before, his face identifiable as Logan could see visions of him appear in his dreams, haunting him like a ghost long after Logan had brought Scott home with him. There was something about Scott that Logan was certain he'd experienced before, but his memory loss wouldn't allow him the luxury of recall. Of course after listening to Scott complain and whine, Logan decided maybe he'd been wrong. Perhaps his senses were off in thinking that the teen could provide him with any real understanding of what all of the sensations had meant with Logan. Instead Logan had found himself babysitting an ungrateful, know-it-all who would simply drive him crazy the longer they spent time with one another.
With that thought causing tension to spiral out over his body, Logan stepped into the cabin, preparing to deal with Scott's twenty questions, but instead he was surprised to find Scott slumped over on the sofa, curled up with one of the books Logan had caught him eyeing earlier. In his slumber Scott seemed peaceful, serene and almost angelic before him. There was something about Scott that Logan couldn't quite shake, that he didn't want to and in moving closer, he set the firewood down and stood silently watching Scott.
"He's beautiful," a voice inside of his head admitted causing Logan to concede to the fact that perhaps it had been that very thing that had brought upon the feeling of familiarity. Perhaps it had been that unspoken attraction to Scott that Logan felt that had guided his noble attempt at rescuing him. Still, having been without companionship for so very long already, Logan knew full well he wasn't about to engage in temptation anytime soon and certainly not with an eighteen year old stranger, who was bound and determined to find his way back home to New York.
He watched Scott shuffle before him, discarding the book on the floor in his sleep. Kneeling down Logan reached for the book, unable to take his eyes off of Scott in the moment. Silently he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his features, revealing the softness of Scott's skin to Logan's touch. It sent ripples of sensation over him, flashes of want and desire deep into his skin at the contact. When Scott shifted again with the beginnings of a smile carrying over his full, pouty lips, Logan's heart skipped a beat. His thumb grazed over the hollow of Scott's cheekbone, stroking his face tenderly before Scott leaned into the touch further.
"What are you doing?" a voice inside of Logan's mind warned as he pulled back, staggering down on the ground when Scott's eyelashes started to flutter behind the glasses he was wearing, indicating that Scott was waking up. Suddenly Logan felt like a pervert, like a lonely, old man who had been lecherously moving in on an innocent, giving in to temptation. That thought in itself caused Logan to cringe, to snap back to his senses when there was a faint glow that built up behind the glasses that Scott was wearing. At first Logan had thought he'd imagined it, but the longer he stared, the more he realized it was there.
"Hi," Scott smiled at Logan, lazily greeting him with warmth that was familiar and welcome to the both of them.
"Hi," Logan cleared his throat, bringing the same hand that had touched Scott up through his own wiry hair before speaking up again, "you eat while I was gone?"
"I was waiting for you," Scott explained with a yawn, "I thought it rude to begin without you since you were kind enough to make it for me."
"Me?" Logan laughed lightly, "Kind? Kiddo you must've hit your head harder than I thought before."
"You took in a stranger when no one else wanted to and took care of him when he was unconscious for two days," Scott called out to Logan after Logan had moved to his feet again standing upright, "not many people would do that."
"Not many people are glutton for punishment I would imagine like I am," Logan shrugged, refusing to turn around and look at Scott again. "though if you haven't eaten any of this, I'm assuming its cold now."
"Can't we just warm it up again?" Scott sat up straighter on the couch, bringing his fingers through his messy hair. "I can help if you like."
"I can handle it," Logan shrugged his shoulders, "just give it a few minutes and…"
"I can set the table," Scott bounced up off of the couch, his eagerness a bit unnerving to Logan in the moment.
"Whatever makes you happy," Logan mouthed sourly, "though you really should've had this while it was hot the first time around."
"I didn't think it would be fair to indulge without you," Scott explained searching around the kitchen for Logan's dishes. Once he'd located a couple of mismatched bowls, he extracted them from a tiny cabinet.
"Trust me my cooking leaves much to be desired. It's far from indulgent," Logan couldn't help, but laugh, "It's sustenance though and that's what counts."
"Either way I'm grateful for it," Scott hesitated revealing the uneasiness in his voice uneasy in the moment, "and I'm grateful for you as well…for taking me in I mean."
"Sure," Logan nodded watching the steam rise from the pot of stew. "I believe it's done."
"In that case, let me help," Scott bounced in closer to him, reaching for the ladle in Logan's hand. Their fingers brushed up against one another, causing a spark of electricity bouncing between them when Logan realized how long it had been since anyone had made any kind of contact with him. Yes, he'd touched Scott's face, but to feel Scott initiate the touch, it caused a breath to catch in the back of his throat and desire to spring to life inside of him in ways he was certain he was going to rot in hell for with his new companion.
"Go ahead," Logan cleared his throat uneasily, stepping aside to allow Scott the opportunity to fill their bowls.
"Thanks," Scott's cheeks were flushed, surprisingly cherry colored as his shaky hand began to pour the stew into the bowls he'd brought with him. "It smells good."
"It won't taste that way. I guarantee that," Logan couldn't help, but crack a small grin. "You'll wish it tasted better I'm certain."
"I'm willing to take my chances considering I don't remember the last time I ate a home cooked meal," Scott admitted with a small breath, "Anything would be great right about now."
"Keep telling yourself that kid…" Logan laughed lightly only to catch the disapproving glare Scott issued him, "Scott."
Scott tipped his head to the side and smiled over at Logan, grateful that Logan had caught his error and corrected himself, "I'm sure I'll rather enjoy it."
"You're quite the optimist, aren't you?" Logan gave Scott another long perusal, unable to help, but wonder how Scott had managed to fit himself into those far too binding jeans. They left little to the imagination about Scott's curves, giving way to far too much of Logan's curiosity with answers to what lay beneath Scott's clothing even in his youth. The thought in itself made Logan tense up and look away, knowing only too well that the last thing he should be thinking about is seeing Scott naked in any kind of exchange. "I'm sure your girlfriend appreciates that, doesn't she?"
"I don't have a girlfriend," Scott explained filling up a bowl and turning to set it on the countertop in front of where Logan was now seated. He paused contemplating his words before speaking up again, "It's not that I haven't tried because, well there's a girl, but it feels like no matter what I do she just doesn't feel the same."
"Why not?" Logan questioned trying to make casual conversation with Scott.
"If I knew the answer to that I wouldn't be here right now," Scott let out an ironic laugh. Turning his attention to the stove once again, he began to pour himself a bowl of stew. "Honestly I kind of hoped that seeing me finally take a role of real leadership would impress her, but after this screw up, I'm guessing I'm going to be the joke of the school."
"You joined the military to impress a girl?" Logan raised a surprised brow. "Really kid?"
"I'm not really in the military. It's…" Scott bit down on his lower lip thinking up a way to answer Logan, "it's complicated, but for what it's worth, yeah a part of me was hoping Jean would take me seriously after she saw that I wasn't just the strange kid that pretty much everyone hates at school."
"Hates?" Logan repeated with surprise in his eyes, "That's a rather big assertion Scott. I'm sure it isn't that bad."
"They either hate or fear me," Scott shrugged walking over to the counter to place his bowl down across from Logan's. Reaching for an empty bar stool, he dragged it across the floor so that he was sitting on the opposite side of the bar from Logan, "It's not that I blame them. I'm not exactly normal, so…"
"You seem normal enough to me," Logan took a hearty bite of the stew. "A little thin, but normal for your age."
"Looks can be deceiving," Scott paused reaching for his spoon and dipping it into the stew, "I'm not exactly as I appear to be."
"When are any of us?" Logan countered watching as Scott took in the scent of the stew. He raised the spoon to his face, allowing the aroma to linger before moving forward to take a taste. "Trust me you're going to hate it."
"I don't care," Scott swallowed down the bite with a hearty gulp. He attempted to push it down, but choked in the process overtaken by the atrocious taste.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Logan sprung up to his feet and walked over to the sink to get Scott an oversized glass of water.
"No…it's…fine…" Scott attempted to be polite in between coughs, "a little bit…salty, but it's…it's good…"
"You're a terrible liar," Logan noted with an amused expression offering the water to Scott, "but for what it's worth if you do less talking and eat it faster you'll find it goes down easier."
Scott nodded saying nothing further when the two men continued to finish off their bowls in silence. Although the taste had left much to be desired, Logan wasn't all that surprised to see Scott heading over to pour himself another bowl after having slept for two days. Without being asked Scott had collected Logan's bowl as well getting him a refill. Shortly after Scott returned to the table they dug in for seconds until the two were finished with their meals, caught up in an awkward moment of numbing silence. Normally Logan was one for silence, but with Scott looking around, seemingly lost, Logan cleared his throat and spoke up again.
"So this girl," Logan couldn't help, but ask, "Why isn't she interested in you really?"
"I honestly don't know," Scott rolled his shoulders back with embarrassment, "We've been friends for a while…the best of friends really, but…"
"But what?" Logan questioned attempting to make small talk.
"She's older and I'm not as, well, I guess I'm just not what she's looking for right now," Scott divulged quietly. "I was kind of hoping she'd take me seriously after I kissed her, but…"
"She deny you after that?" Logan's brow perked up with interest.
"She started seeing someone else shortly after," Scott let out an ironic laugh, "so I guess that speaks volumes about my ability to kiss a person."
"Or maybe it speaks volumes about the girl," Logan suggested watching Scott spring up onto his feet to take their dishes to the sink. He began to wash them and Logan frowned, "Don't worry about that Scott. I'll get to it later."
"No, I can do it. You were kind enough to have me here, so the least I can do is…" Scott argued with him, doing his best to a cordial guest when Logan stood up and approached him.
"You should really be resting especially if we're going to even think about getting you back home when this storm clears up," Logan suggested reaching out to touch Scott's arm. While he knew it was crossing a line, it was one that he couldn't resist when he prevented Scott from continuing to work on the dirty dishes, "I've got it covered Scott. You should go to bed."
"Not tired," Scott answered stubbornly stilling his moments now that Logan stood behind him wondering what in the hell had made him think bringing Scott back home with him was a good idea. It was an awful thought, even worse in its execution now that he stood behind Scott wanting to reach out and touch him, to tell him that he was convinced that idiot girl at school had to be off the mark about the way Scott kissed when…
"I'm not in the mood to sleep Logan," Scott finally broke the connection between them, turning around to face Logan fully. He raised his chin up, meeting Logan with a stubborn determination, "I slept for two days already."
"Even so you're still recovering and…" Logan's words came to an abrupt ending when his mouth centered in on those lips he couldn't help, but think about.
"Why aren't you married Logan?" Scott questioned breaking through Logan's thoughts. "Why are you still alone?"
"Guess I haven't met the right person yet," Logan shrugged taking in the intoxicating scent of Scott. While it had been days since Scott had clearly been at ease in his skin, in the moment Scott's curiosity sparked one in Logan as well. Unable to resist he leaned in closer to Scott, his gaze lingering over Scott's mouth in silent contemplation, "Sometimes it's easier to be alone with the kind of life I lead."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Scott nodded slightly, "but at the same time sometimes I wonder if…"
"If what?" Logan questioned reaching out around Scott to place his hands down on the base of the sink behind Scott to keep from touching him.
"If maybe I've been looking in all the wrong places," Scott divulged rising up on his toes and surprising Logan when Scott's fingers brushed against the rough surface of Logan's skin. Logan's eyes widened, seeing Scott take the initiative to ease his fingers into Logan's wild, unruly hair.
"What are you doing kid?" Logan questioned trying to snap himself out of the daze he was in.
"Seeing if you're right," Scott slurred, a hazy expression on his face as he twisted on his toes, inching in closer to Logan, "seeing if Jean's a bad judge of the quality in a kiss."
"Scott," Logan spoke his name preparing to issue some kind of protest when Scott's arm snaked around Logan's neck further, brazenly guiding Logan in closer to him. There was a moment of hesitation, a second where Logan knew this could go one way or the other, bridging on the verge of right and wrong, but the animalistic hunger and loneliness took over when Logan felt Scott's mouth crashing into his, surprising him with the ferocity of the kiss.
Instinctively Logan's arms wrapped around Scott's slender frame, kissing him harder, roughly as Scott leaned back into the counter. His lips parted, tongue lashing out at Logan's wild and untrained in the art of slow and lingering. It was frantic, hungry and seeking out something that Logan himself hadn't been aware he'd been missing until that moment in time. Unable to hold back, Logan stepped forward crushing Scott further, pressing harder against his lithe form. Scott groaned, awareness of Logan's arousal bringing him down from the moment when they parted.
"She's clearly an idiot," Logan decided breathlessly as his eyes were still centered in on Scott's insatiable lips, "There's nothing wrong with the way you kiss."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Scott smiled up at him, a lazy warmth carrying over his flushed features. His fingertips tapered off over the back of Logan's neck, savoring the heat of Logan beside him, "I just…"
"This is a mistake Scott," Logan tensed up allowing reality to come crashing down upon him. He released Scott, stepping back and silently condemning himself for allowing the kiss to happen in the first place, "You don't owe me anything for saving you. I just want to help you get home and…"
"I didn't think you expected anything," Scott replied with a wounded expression, feeling the weight of Logan's rejection, "I've just never felt this drawn to someone before. It's crazy I know, but there's something about you that I just can't shake. Something that…"
"I'm sorry I let things get out of hand," Logan turned his back to Scott, stomping off over towards the couch without looking back over his shoulder, "You should go to bed."
"Logan, I just don't think…" Scott started making a small movement towards Logan.
"That's right you aren't thinking kid because I'm a complete stranger to you," Logan snarled glaring over his shoulder at Scott. "You know nothing about me-nothing at all so to even think about whatever it is that's on your mind, it would be a huge mistake."
"Maybe you're right," Scott finally agreed embarrassment overtaking him when he rushed off to Logan's bedroom slamming the door shut behind him.
"What the hell are you thinking?" Logan questioned dropping down onto the couch realizing he'd lost his damned mind in thinking having Scott around was a good idea. However, the sooner he got Scott out of the cabin, the better it would be for the both of them.