Logan's Run For The Bathroom
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, save the storyline. If you want to sell me Logan, then e-mail me.
Feedback: I live for it.
Notes: Some people may be a bit OOC (out of character), but it's my fic and that's how I want it.
Chapter 1: Where Rogue keeps schtum.
"Logan?" Rogue knocked on his door. "You okay?"
Logan hadn't been looking so good at dinner, which was unusual for him, what with the whole healing thing. Rogue had decided to check up on him after he'd left in the middle of dinner.
"Logan, you in there?" She knocked a little louder.
"Go away, kid," came the reply from behind the door.
"Are you okay?" asked Rogue.
"Fine, kid," replied Logan, "now go back down to dinner."
"Can I come in?" asked Rogue. "I'm worried about you."
"Don't be, I'm fine."
"Then can I come in?"
There was a pause. He was obviously trying to think of a reason not to let her in, without worrying her.
Apparently he couldn't think of one. Rogue heard the lock click. She tried the door and it swung open.
Rogue entered the room. She looked about in the dim light, realising the heavy curtains were drawn. There was a large, Logan-sized lump under the blankets on the four-poster bed. Rogue walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress. She leaned over and poked the Logan-lump.
"Gerroff!" growled the lump.
"You gonna come out from under there, sugar?" Rogue asked softly.
"Ugghh…"
"Guess that's a no."
The bedsheets shifted slightly, and one deep chocolate brown eye appeared. It blinked a couple of times and focused. Squinted up at Rogue.
"Hey," she half whispered.
"Mmph," was the reply.
"What's wrong?" Rogue asked. The one eye was joined by its twin. Both blinked at Rogue.
"Don't feel good," Logan's voice was muffled by the blankets that were still wrapped around his body.
"How dontcha feel good, sugar?"
"Gotta pain in my head, my belly don't seem to like what I been feedin' it, an' my arms an' legs feel heavy."
"Awww, poor Logan. You've probably caught a virus." Rogue sympathised. She remembered having something similar a couple of years back. She put her arms around where she hoped Logan's waist was.
"Whaddya mean, virus?" Logan sounded confused. "I don't get sick."
"Cus of your healing mutation?"
"Mmm." The effort of talking seemed to have sapped Logan's energy almost completely.
"Maybe when you lent your healing power to me, it kinda, I don't know, drained you, making you susceptible to viruses and things," Rogue reasoned.
"So I'll go get Jean, and she can give you a shot or some pills or something."
She unwrapped her arms from around Logan and started to rise off the bed. A large hand suddenly snaked out from beneath the bedclothes and caught her wrist. It was a very weak grip, one that Rogue could've twisted out of with very little effort. Logan- weak? This was worrying.
"Wait," Logan croaked.
"What?" Rogue bent down at the side of the bed, level with Logan's eyes.
"Don't tell. Not Jean, not Chuck, no-one. Ya hear?"
"But, but…" Rogue spluttered. "You're sick!"
"Exactly."
Rogue paused. The 'Logan' inside her head, the one left over from the times she'd touched him, was trying to tell her something. So she listened.
In a flash of clarity, she understood. She had had an idea before, but know she knew for sure. Logan hated people relating him to the word 'weak'. Being sick made him weak.
"Okay, sugar. I'll keep schtum." She mimed zipping her mouth closed. Logan gave a ghost of a grin. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"You want me to stay, Logan?" Rogue asked, in that soft, southern voice. He just looked at her. Well, it was a silly question. Of course he wanted her to stay.
"Alright, I'll stay. Do you want me to get you some water or something?"
Logan cocked his head slightly. Now that he thought about it, his mouth did feel kind of funny. Slowly, so as not to anger whatever the hell it was that was making his head feel so damn bad, he nodded.
"Okay, then. I'll sneak some medicine out of the cupboard as well."
Rogue got up and walked to the door.
"Back in a flash," she said, "so don't go anywhere."
Like he could. Logan looked at the clock.
Tick, tick, tick. He watched it until Rogue tapped on the door and came in.
"Hey sugar."
"You were gone three minutes and forty-two seconds."
"How d'ya know that?"
"Clock. Can ya turn it off? Kinda hurts my head, what with the enhanced hearing."
Rogue came over and took the battery out of the clock. Logan sighed in relief.
"Thanks darlin'."
Rogue looked at him. That was the first time he had ever called her 'darlin''. It was always 'kid', or 'Rogue' She smiled to herself. Jean may be the one he looked at, but she was the one he talked to, cared about.
"You got that medicine you were talkin' about?" Logan's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Here."
She put the pills in Logan's outstretched hand. He looked at them.
"What do I do with 'em?"
Rogue smothered a giggle. Logan glared up at her.
"Never had to take medicine before," he growled.
"Okay, okay. Sorry." Rogue bent down to eye level with him.
"You put them in your mouth, and swallow them with water."
Logan opened his mouth, chucked the pills in, and reached his hand out for the glass of water. Rogue handed it to him, and he took a gulp. He paused.
"Nothin's happenin'."
Rogue sighed. "They don't work instantly. They take time."
Logan muttered something under his breath. It sounded rude. Rogue looked at him and gave him her best glare. It shut him up almost instantly. She supposed Logan was being meek because she was the one with the pills and the water.
Logan, meek! Never thought I'd see the day! Rogue swallowed another giggle. Unfortunately Logan noticed. Damn those enhanced senses of his!
"What?" he grunted.
"Nothin'," Rogue replied. Logan raised an eyebrow, but didn't press further.
"Now, you get some rest," said Rogue.
"Don't wanna." said Logan, sounding like a petulant child.
"What do you want to do?" asked Rogue.
"Talk to you."
Rogue looked down at Logan. He blinked up at her for a moment, then slowly slid across the bed. He patted the space he had made. A smile flickered across Rogue's face.
"Okay," she said, "but only for a little while."
Logan gave her a crooked smile.
"So, whaddya want to talk about, sugar?"
"Dunno." croaked Logan, sniffling.
"How about what you're going to get Jean and Scott for their wedding anniversary?" Rogue suggested innocently.
Logan glared, and wiped his nose on the back of his hand.
"Ewww!" squealed Rogue. Logan looked abashed.
"Here," She passed him the box of tissues.
"Thanks," he replied, with most of his face buried in about fifteen tissues.
Rogue sighed. This was going to be a long recovery. For her.