Greenish, stinging, burning water.
Excrutiating agony poured through his veins, his very bones like liquid fire.
He couldn't move, couldn't twitch, couldn't think through the pain.
For the first time in his life, he truly knew what pain was.
Pain was crippling.
Pain was awful.
Pain made him wish he were dead.
Gasping, Logan bolted upright in his bed, claws breaking through the skin of his knuckles and tearing the blankets. His chest shuddered with the effort of suppressing the cries that threatened to rip out of his chest and wake the mansion's numerous other occupants.
"Damn it. Can't Stryker ever leave me alone?" he growled, throwing back his blankets and stripping them from his bed. He threw them into a pile near the door, making a mental note to ask the professor for new ones. He opened his bedroom door and made his way down the hall, bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floor.
As Logan passed the kitchen, he contemplated going in and grabbing on of his beers that were masquerading as juice past expiration, but in the end, he bypassed the kitchen and slipped out the front door and into the starry, clear night, into the arms that awaited him.
Never in his memory had he been gifted with a peaceful, dreamless night. At least, not until he met her. She helped him forget his horrific past, helped him forget the adamantium lurking beneath his skin. She helped him feel more human, less of a killing machine or unworthy animal. She calmed the thunderstorms that lurked in his mind every night. She brought the sunshine out from behind the clouds.
Ororo loved Logan.