She picked up and threw a stray watering can against the wall with a scream, another potted plant quickly following with a smash. She was hit with more flying pieces of dirt and harmless shards of the pottery, but her tears blinded her from seeing just how much damage she had inflicted upon her bedroom and attic garden.
Logan opened the door, quickly closing it as he saw a hanging basket chucked at him. It banged against the door, spraying its contents everywhere and cracking the plastic container. He then opened the door fully, quickly shutting it again once he was inside, for fear that the others would hear. After all, the room was soundproofed.
The chaos before him left him in shock. He had always known Ororo to be the calm, practical one who stopped him from going crazy. This wasn't the Ororo he knew. This wasn't the Ororo he...no.
He shook the thought from his head quickly, and looked at her, grabbing for anything to throw in her rage. He strode toward her and grabbed her wrist.
She was deceptive in how powerful she was. She was a fighter, and he was stupid to forget that.
She lashed back at him, hitting him with a kick he hadn't been expecting in the chest. He fell back into a pile of smashed clay with a groan as some of the pieces stabbed his skin. When she turned around, her eyes were glowing white in a frenzy.
Then they focused.
"Logan!" she screamed, falling to her knees beside her friend. "I'm sorry!"
He waved her off and stood. She collapsed into tears. He'd seen her like this only a few times before, and it always scared him. The tears didn't frighten him. It was the fact it was her. One of the only people he trusted to always have his back no matter what happened.
"It's not your fault, 'Ro," he said, taking her into his arms.
She cried into his shoulder, "Yes, it is. I should have been stronger."
It was clear to them both that neither was talking about the state of her living quarters, but rather what had come to be classified as the recent Apocalypse. She hated herself for being turned into one of his servants, one of his horsemen. She'd nearly killed the students who'd come to save her, one of whom had been her nephew.
"No, it's not. Look what I almost did to Kitty and Kurt that one day," he assured her, holding her closer. "Look what I almost did to you right after we met."
"You were different then. An animal. I was-"
"Not you."
She dried her tears and looked up at him, "That's still no excuse."
"Yes, it is," he looked into her blue eyes. "None of us could have fought off Apocalypse. You tried to protect Charles, and there was nothing that could have saved him. Apocalypse got to us all, because he knew where to hit. That's not your fault."
She glared at him, "How did he hit you?"
Logan rolled his eyes, "How didn't he? How many of our number did he hurt, 'Ro?"
She sighed, leaning against him. She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide with unshed tears and emotion, "How did you stop yourself from hurting them? Kitty and Kurt?"
"I just couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt Kitty, even in my feral state," he wrapped his arms around her. "Just like you couldn't actually have hurt these kids with a bit of yourself left. It. Was. Not. You."
She snorted, very un-goddess-like, "Are you sure? Aren't we all a little sadistic?"
"Not like that. That was beyond sadacism. That was...hell, I'm not an English major! Find the word yourself," he grunted.
She laughed and the weight on his chest alleviated. She was happy again.
"Thanks, Logan."
"Anytime."
They stood.
"D'you need some help cleaning up?"
"No, thank you."
Before she could turn around, he captured her lips in his. Her eyes widened a moment before shutting in the bliss of their kiss, her arms winding their way around his neck.
When they broke apart, breathing heavy, his eyes met hers once more, "That's how he got to me, darlin'. It wasn't everyone else. I'm good at leaving emotion behind. It was you that finished me."
She smiled softly at him, kissed him once more, and laid her head upon his chest, more content than she had been in weeks, since before the Apocalypse.