Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made from this work.
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As a man who couldn't recall ever getting so much as a sniffle, Logan couldn't know what the kid was going through as she hacked and coughed towards that awful moment when she spat another gob of phlegm into a tissue. It was almost enough to put him off the can of stew he had warming on the stove along with a bowl of chicken noodle for her.
"I'm sorry." The girl meekly wheezed.
Trying to remember her name, she was one of Rogue's friends, the loud one. Kitty was the opinionated one out of the pair, damned smart and she knew it. Once that girl got enough real world experience under her belt she was sure to become a lady a fella trifled with at their own risk.
"Don't worry about it kid, I've heard worse from truckers you'd think had a case of the Black Lung for how much they smoked."
"Gross..."
Chuckling, it sure as hell was gross. It wasn't the Black Lung the kid had but a case of pneumonia after a stubborn bout of bronchitis took a turn for the worst, something she was prone to ever since her stay with Stryker. Jubilee, that was the kid's name, a shame it took thinking about that son of a bitch to remind him.
Having a gander at the fire, the big old log he'd tossed on it to see them through the night finally seemed to be catching, splitting with sudden a loud crack that sent sparks dancing. His little cabin wasn't much, but it was his and something he'd built with his own two hands (and a little help from whoever felt like stopping by to lend a hand). A school full of hormonal kids left a man needing his own space.
"Ya want it in a bowl or a mug?"
"Mug please."
Sounding plenty breathless, it was a reminder to check her temperature again to make sure she wasn't running too high a fever. She'd gone delirious from a fever and done a number on her room that had the fire alarm vying to be heard over her fireworks show. Standing there with a spent fire extinguisher listening to Ro try and console the delirious girl, that had been all it taken for him to offer to take care of her somewhere she didn't have to be scared of hurting someone.
"Here ya go." Tucking an arm behind her back to help her sit up, he passed off her dinner that he didn't give two hoots as to how much she could get down just so long as she kept drinking her ice water and juice, doctors orders and all.
Checking her forehead and cheek, the first time he'd done that she'd flinched. He had three guesses and the first two didn't count, or so Rogue liked to say. A lot of the kids had a healthy respect for his hardware after how he'd used them against the fuckers who ran a raid on a school. As it turned out she was one of the kids who'd seen what happened when Rogue had woken him from a night terror back when they were both still new to the school.
"Ya want me to toss on one o' your movies?" A box full of action flicks and crude comedies bought the kid a few points in his book.
Shaking her head no, that told him just how sick she was that all she wanted to do was sleep. "Those pills doing anything for ya?"
Shrugging as she sipped her soup, the good Doctor McCoy had prescribed the kid antibiotics back when he'd been worried it was just bronchitis. It was a new record for her that landed her down in the Medlab for chest X-rays just three days after having a cough and sore throat. Clenching his fist, Logan let go of a slow breath to calm himself after thinking of how bad off the kids would been in that hole of Stryker's if they'd been half as sick Jubilee was right now.
"Usually I can't get a word in edgewise with ya."
Her quiet laugh turned into a coughing fit that had him reaching for a tissue to hold for her so she could spit out the sickly filth filling her lungs. Tossing it with the rest, it was a guilty thought to think how easy it'd be to help Rogue if she was the one who was sick, all he'd need to do was check her temperature good and long to set her on the road to recovery, a goddamned highway with what his healing would do for her.
"Sorry..." Logan whispered, getting interested in his stew that was going cold.
"...s'kay" Jubilee hoarsely croaked.
Finishing his stew around the time she'd gotten half her soup down, as he got up to go do the dishes she held her mug up for him. "All done?"
Saving her breath with a nod, she was half asleep and it wouldn't be long before she nodded off again. Hitting up the kitchen to tackle the domestic chore he didn't mind too much after a life spent on the road, more times than he could count his version of doing the dishes had been throwing the paper plates into campfire or chucking empty take out bags in the trash as he filled up the tank.
Leaving the sink to fill as he cracked open a beer, with only his fireplace lending it's light he had a clear view into the dark woods that his little cabin was tucked away in. Usually he'd be out on the deck enjoying a couple of cold ones with something on the grill, but that was something his little houseguest wasn't up to.
"Maybe when she's back on feet..." Logan mused, cranking shut the taps to get down to a few dishes.
He could count the number of folk who stopped by on one hand, usually just Rogue and her fella when they wanted to get away from everyone. Pete was known to stop by now and again when he wanted to have a talk, ever since Stryker he'd been a young man looking for pointers when it came to a fight. Then there was Ro...
"Fuck." Logan cursed as the business end of a knife sliced deeply.
Shaking the bloodied, soapy water from his finger so he could watch it heal, it reminded him of the very girl that tied him to his little houseguest. He could hear that question of Rogue's all over again, does it hurt?
"Every damned time..."
Leaving the dishes to dry in their own time, his deck was calling to him if just for a smoke and a spell to enjoy the autumn evening. Checking back in on Jubilee, sure enough she was fast asleep. Making sure she was properly tucked in, try as he might to give her his bed she wouldn't have any of it, the kid was content to crash on his couch and threatened to paf him if he tried.
Hitting up his humidor for a contraband Cuban, that had been a little housewarming gift from Chuck right along with a story about how he and his first class of X-men had stopped World War III from happening. Crashing in an Adirondack chair with a view of his fireplace, he lit up to enjoy a puff, blowing smoke to the breeze to notice a shift that left him downwind in a way that hinted that he had company coming.
"I know you're out there Ro."
Rich laughter danced with the breeze as she revealed herself, stepping out from behind his cabin that she had hidden behind.
"And here I thought myself clever, what gave me away?"
Pointing off to those trees whose boughs swayed differently from the breeze that had kept her scent from him, she looked on them embarrassed to have missed that detail. Dressed for an evening walk in a wool jacket, jeans and knee-high calfskin boots, her scarf was a concession for the hint winter that hung in the autumn air.
"Lemme get a fire going." Logan grunted, having been enduring the cold thinking he'd only be out long enough himself for a smoke.
As mysterious as the morning fog, her eyes gave away none of her secrets despite her inviting smile.
"Why don't I fix us a drink." Ororo offered, using it as an excuse to check on Jubilee along her way to the liquor cabinet.
Piling up the kindling with a few balls of newspaper, he lit it with his cigar to then enjoy a puff in the company of the blazing warmth that ate away at the tinder. Adding a few broken branches gathered from walks with Rogue about the woods, the flames danced in the shimmering surface of the window as he looked to see Ororo knelt down at his couch. She was as tormented as any of them to see one of their own suffering.
Leaning in to wish sweet dreams with her kiss, that was something he couldn't do for them. Ro could play the big sister or let the kids believe her to be their missing mothers after a bad dream before tucking them back in. She was the one they went too when they needed womanly advice, or just advice on woman as it went for the boys, something he'd seen her do with Rogue more times than he could count or ever hope to repay.
"Scotch, neat." Ororo greeted as she handed him a tumbler, "For myself I felt like a rum."
"Thanks." As lost to thought as he was he hadn't even noticed her come back until she was upon him.
Adding a couple of half burnt leftover logs to the fire, he settled down across from her. Her alluring scent joined the smoke wafting from his chimney and all the aromas of the late autumn eve. Her hair was amber in the firelight while her eyes were the sky at sunset, azure and ever changing shades of red and orange.
"She's still too stubborn to take you up upon the offer of your bed?"
Choking on his cigar with a haggard cough, he might have thought himself alone in his mind taking dive to the gutter if Ororo hadn't looked to be suffering a little chagrin herself.
"Kid laid down the law with a lot o' words that might o' ended her up in detention had she said them in class, so I took the hint and let her be."
"...she looks comfortable." Ororo whispered, her gaze lost to where Jubilee slept so she could hide from him.
"Don't go tellin' her this, but there's been more than a few nights I've hunkered down on that couch myself. Wouldn't want her havin' any reason to go curling up on the floor, now would we?"
The titter of laughter joined the crackling snap of the fire as Ororo turned on him. He'd thought her a frosty something or other on meeting her those years ago, but that facade had fallen away ever since they'd lost Jean. To hear her laugh was worth the thunder of her anger that blew with a cold wind, as her laughter was a warm breeze while her smile promised clear skies.
"I always thought this was a side you only showed to Rogue." Ororo whispered, her eyes intent on him.
And in her eyes the flames danced and called to him, for however primal his beast was that beat beneath his breast she was so far beyond it as to be the elements themselves.
"It takes a special someone it seems..." To let himself be comfortable around, to be vulnerable with...
Helpless against the fire that threatened to consume him, he rose from his chair and knelt with her as she had his little houseguest. She tried to hide from the very question she wanted to ask, tried to put on that frosty veil she wore to keep herself safe. He offered her his answer if only she could accept it, her reply the brush of her lips against his that was a flash of lightning that called down the thunder to shake the land.
Tasting rum on her lips as they parted, he lost himself in her eyes that beckoned to him with the thrill of a dark, untamed wilderness.
"The offer stands if you wanna take me up on it?" Alluding to his bed with a smarmy smirk, her laughter was the only answer he needed.
"Perhaps I could start with your lap so we might see where things progress from there?"
Offering her his hand, he lead her to his chair and tumbled into it together. Breathing deep her scent that stirred the beast in his breast, she was a warmth against him he had never known in all the years he'd been on the road. Holding her hands in his, the cloudless sky above was her smile bespeckled in stars.
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