The child had made the pleasant discovery of the softness of Logan's bed once again. Ororo had earlier taken it upon herself to bathe the timid child and throw her a shirt of her father. She was calmed down noticeably when she was fully into the over-sized nightgown. It still had his musky yet sweet scent. It made her feel secure and content. She had been alone in the dark room for a few hours, and she had known for a while that she would stay that way for the remainder of the night. She wasn't happy about that. They were.
Logan's disappointment with himself had doubled that evening when he realized he polished off his cognac within minutes of reopening it. He hated the fact that it was nearly impossible to get him drunk, and the ever so slight buzz he scored was simply due to the near moonshine purity of his cognac; he hated the taste of moonshine, so he never took it up, a decision he now regretted. There must have been more liquor stashed around the mansion, and even if that were not the case he was sober enough to wander to the nearest bar. But he wasn't sure of the time, and bars had been closing earlier and earlier lately. At such an inconvenient time, too.
She hated confronting the dark alone, because she was never really alone. She glared at the ceiling above her in the pitch black darkness. She gripped her shirt to make the rest cling tightly to her body. The smile was taunting her and she was sick of its appalling incisors lining its mouth. Frightened as well, but more so disgusted. She wishes that she would be eaten and enjoyed already instead of having to walk with it for the rest of the nights. She never had the courage to tell it to go away. She had known it for as long as she could remember.
In hindsight it was his fault for placing this undesirable burden upon himself. His proud and delusional side had told him that it had to have been the girl's fault by not taking a damn pill or flushing it out of her when she found out she was pregnant. Obviously, that may not have been an option for her, she must have been homeless as well. Could a parent really abandon a child like that? The unintentional irony of his ranting thoughts stung through his buzz and brought him back to a guilt he was trying to inebriate. Evidently so. It was that easy not to care about another human one was responsible for. His side of humility and logic blamed him half to fully for the whole situation. It was a chief embarrassment to him that he couldn't even recollect the mother's face or supposed conception. He must have had this incident when he went on a binge of recreational fun about five years ago or so. Debauchery and ass. What made him feel the worst was that he had created a life just to be subject to a cruel existence of homelessness. Not to mention the dangers of other people. He didn't even know if anything sinister or tragic, even traumatic happened to her. She seemed too young to comprehend the horror but old enough to fear it.
Her mind could have been playing tricks on her but she could have sworn the beast was descending to her level. This time she did try to scream, but it was muted into an extension of the blackness from it. She cried again and really wished for Logan to come. She wished that she could accept that it was all in her head, but that fact alone made it much scarier, and made her feel as if she were to never escape it.
Logan had found a bottle of Gentlemen Jack he had stashed in his file cabinet as a gift from Jean (amd Scott) for his birthday last year. He had particularly liked this one, and saved this flavor for when he needed it. He didn't bother to pace himself as there would be no real reprocutions of his bacchanalian splurges. He smashed the bottle on the ground with a face of anguish and anger. He wanted to throw everything. He wanted to kill somebody. He almost considered it.
She opened her eyes to realize she was alone. Had she looked behind his shades she would've seen it was the break of dawn, a golden semicircle creating hues of indigo and blue. It was beautiful.
Logan had noticed the sunrise as he was fading in and out, over tired. Finals were going to be in his afternoon class block, so he felt like he would require a few hours of sleep to numb his mind since the booze wouldn't do its job. He knew that if he ignored it the situation would not simply go away nor be solved. But he decided that he fucked up this kid's life enough already. It was obvious to him that she didn't need him and would only hurt her in the end. He didn't have a hatred for the kid, after all, she was his offspring, but he did resent her, sadly. It was resentment with the best intentions. And with that would include him having to immediately distance himself from her so she doesn't start to connote him and the concept of fatherhood.
He opened his door and rudely slammed it, plopped on to his bed, not taking his boots off, and groaned. The little kid had been under the covers since she noticed it was gone, not wanting to be seen again. She was thankful in that moment the bed was large enough for the both of them. Speaking of which, she had wondered if it were the man she had secretly been hoping for and had not been disappointed. He, however, was, when he looked into her little face.
Wouldn't that just be his luck! As soon as he makes the decision to not be involved in her life, she cozies up to his bed.
He had enough. He wanted to throw her gently into the hallway or send her to one of the girl's rooms. But his aching muscles and mind lulled him to stay. Of all the rooms in the massive estate, she had to choose his. Maybe she didn't even get to, and the others automatically assumed that Logan would take care of everything. A rude awakening was going to come their way.
He fell asleep soon, and when he did, the girl took her chance and snuggled into his chest with her back to him. His free arm was draped over her by her command and loosely but strongly held her. This was a comfort the shirt wouldn't provide for her. She saw it glaring at her, but it didn't dare to leave the walls. She smiled.
.
.
.
Xavier was very unhappy to have to start his day off with reprimanding Logan's poor performance as a teacher when he pointed out the back up of ungraded papers and lowering averages. This trend had been going on for about a month, just about the same time the kid had joined the facility.
"And don't try to blame your impending alcoholism on the girl, because I know you will."
Logan put his hands above shoulder length, "Alright, you got me." He wasn't drunk, but he was sobering up, having finally developed a taste for moonshine. "I've been having a few extra drinks here and there to get my mind off of things." Charles was not thoroughly impressed with his half-assed excuse.
"Let me start off by saying that in almost any personal circumstance, problems outside of the classroom should not and will not affect the classroom by any means." Logan had quipped in his mind that the last month of school hardly mattered anyway, which only exasperated a patient Professor.
"School aside, I'm even more abhorred by your lack of respoins-"
"See, right there! Don't you even fucking start on the afternoon special dad bullshit. "Step up, Logan! She's you're daughter, Logan! Do the right thing!" The right thing to do would be to get her the hell away from me. Can't you see I caused enough problems for the dam kid!"
"Your immaturity and stubborn head are going to be your downfall, you know."
"You know. You know what? I've been telling you not to keep her here. Send her off-"
"Where exactly would you like me to send off this vulnerable young mutant to? I'm sure the public would take warmly to her." Xavier snapped.
"Anywhere else! You and Jean, Rogue, Scott, Hank, Ororo- ALL of you keep telling me to be her dad, like I've been preparing for or wanting this. NOTHING could be more cumbersome to me!"
"James," he stated, grasping Logan's full attention, "this is not about you, not anymore. You're acting like you did when you first came her, stuck in your own lost way, refusing to move on and embrace your abilities. Now you actually have a chance to make a positive influence to change a cycle of pain for you both, and a little bit of doubt and fear is going to stop you? Don't play me as a fool."
Logan just scowled at the wise man. He hated it when he was called out for something and couldn't deny it. Truthfully, he felt very guilty for denying his paternity and ignoring her presence. She still slept in his room, so he had taken to the couch for the time being. The softer side of him even almost regretted it, but not enough to involve himself. After a minute of silence the door had burst open, followed by the kid, Scott, then Jean. She futilely tried to get onto Xavier's desk, and Scott once again helped her reach. Charles smiled at the child. She reached into her pocket and handed a folded piece of paper to the Professor. She turned her head and saw a grumpy looking Logan, who quickly averted his eyes, evoking a small frown on the girl's face. Scott had flashed her a smile to try to cheer her up, but she simply ignored it.
The Professor took the cute crude picture of obscure objects mainly resembling people. It was obvious she drew herself in the middle with a cute little dress. He noticed another person with a red line over his eyes. He had to laugh. "Is this supposed to be you and Scott, my dear?"
"Yes!" She exclaimed.
Xavier and Scott were the second and third people she had trusted, and they were among the very few. Jean smiled as she leaned against the frame of the door. Scott said, "I found her running around the halls. She asked me to find you after she showed it to me." Logan had only recounted very few times he had ever seen Scott smile, and today was another.
"Any reason why you drew him, love?" Charles asked out of curiosity, not for the answer, but the reaction.
"I think he's my daddy! Are you?" She eagerly looked at Scott.
Inexplicably Logan's mind and heart had shattered. He had been successful in convincing her they were not related... but to think of Scott as a dad before him? Even in the given circumstances that was not okay with him. He had been truly hurt, and his face hadn't bothered to hide it. It even made Scott feel bad for him and her. "Sorry, squirt. I'm not your dad."
"Who is he? Where is he? Can I see him? Does he know about me?" She rambled.
"Whoa there, honey. I know you're excited to meet him, but there are a few things that need to be taken care of first. How about you come with me and Jean to get some ice cream?" She was silent but wasn't going to refuse such an offer. Her questions not leaving her focus, she left the room while looking at Logan for as long as she could. He couldn't bare to look back.
The door closed. Charles observed a solemn looking "Wolverine", who held his head in his hands. "I want to puke right now."
"But you don't need to, so please don't." Logan still sat remorsefully. "It's not too late to change your mind, Logan. She trusts you very much. On some sort of level she must know you're her father. She always asks about you."
"She does?" His head picked up.
"Of course," he smiled, "she constantly asks if you're alright, how your classes were going, if you were happy or sad, and even started to think you were mad at her because she was using your shirts for sleeping."
"Well I did loose two Led Zeppelin shirts and a Pink Floyd tee, but at least she knew to choose good bands I guess."
"You're not too far gone, Logan. You were once lost, but we found you. We can do it again. We're all here to help, you do realize you're not alone." Logan took a deep breath and played the scenario in his head. The kid jumps on his bed. They sleep on the same one for a night or two until she gets her own or a bedroom. He then realized that she was still only about four years old, and kids in that age group tended to be clingy and needy. Was he really ready for such a commitment? Seemingly against all of his better judgement, he told himself yes.
"But before we let you become her father, we need to make sure you get better from the substance abuse, Logan. No more of that. Even if you're seasoned it's not safe for her, nor is it a good example. While we're on that subject, no more cigars, either, at least in your room. Since she's young we don't see a need to give her her own place just yet. You have enough room to fit a smaller bed for her, and we'll take care of that. As you can see Jean and Ororo took the liberty of getting her clothing and will continue to do so. I have collaborated with Hank to give her a personalized learning program until she's old enough to join regular classes. Until then, I'm reappointing you to be her full time teacher for her first semester. The curriculum is easy enough, and you have complete creative control, so long as she learns the core subjects and matter. Do I make myself clear?"
He merely nodded before he left the office. He had begun walking to his classroom to get his personal articles, mainly booze he had to dump out. He cringed at the thought of that. He figured that the binge definitely needed to stop, but he could still enjoy himself in moderation. He would only save one bottle of his choosing. As soon as he entered his room he saw Hank and Scott leaving with four bottles each, smirking, saying that he didn't need it anymore and were authorized by Charles to take them. His patience was being tested to the extreme right now.
"Shouldn't you be getting some ice cream, ugly eyes?"
"Jean's on it. Like my dick."
The floors smelled like booze and blood for almost a week.
.
.
.
About a week into sobriety, the bed had been set up for her, along with a dresser and small vanity. They both were black so it wouldn't be too girly in Logan's room. He was very anxious because today was the day in which he'd officially become her father. If anything Xavier said was true, she had already been fond of him. He had to carry the secret guilt of initially rejecting her to himself. She had been through enough already.
His worries were interrupted by Storm leading the little girl into his, their, room. She smiled at the girl before winking at Logan, then leaving. The girl climbed onto what she assumed to be her bed and frowned. His bed was a lot softer. He didn't smile, ever, so she knew he wouldn't be too friendly. Past experience had told her to wait until he had fallen asleep before sleeping beside him. They both sat there in silence, not knowing what to say.
"You're my daddy?"
He didn't believe he was answering this. "Yeah, I guess so, kid. Sorry I ain't better looking."
"It's okay."
"Looks like you lucked out though, sport. You're not an eye sore." She giggled.
"Why wouldn't you see me at all before? Are you mad at me?" She looked genuinely sad. The dim lighting made her eyes look darker.
"No, no. I was just being... stupid. Real stupid. No good excuse for it. But that's done. Things are gonna change for you." He tried to sound reassuring, but he was uncertain himself. She nodded and seemed to believe him. She wanted to hug him and finally be happy she had a daddy, but she was too afaid that he would leave her if she did. So, she settled for holding the blankets to her chest.
"So you can heal all of your wounds. That's pretty cool."
"Yeah. I wish I didn't feel anything. It hurts."
"Sometimes that's one of the only things that show us we're really alive."
"Do you ever get hurt?"
"A lot. It comes with the job."
"What's your job?"
"We'll save that for another day." He had surprised himself with how he was handling her. Yet again, she seemed remarkably mature for her age. Living on the streets probably forces you to. "You tired?"
"I can't sleep much."
"Why not? Nightmares?" She looked at the corner, it was smiling again, more menacingly than before, and more menacingly than before. Logan looked at the same corner to find empty space. She understood it didn't want to be told about, so she simply nodded. "I get them too. Real bad." He empathized. She looked down at her hands.
"Kid, I'm sorry I aint the soft type. But I guess you're not used to that anyways. But, you are my daughter, take it or leave it. If you need me for anything, just wake me up. I got you now."
She sat as she digested what he had told her.
"Daddy?"
He had never responded to that before, "Yeah?"
"Promise that you won't let me get hurt anymore?" Anymore?
He nodded his head, his mind wandering into territories he wished not to visit in thinking of what could have hurt the girl. There could have been accidents, illnesses, people. He nearly visibly shuttered at the thought.
"I'm scared." She muttered.
"Of what?'
"I'm just scared."
She leaked her infamous silent tears. These tears were the most unbearable as they looked too acutely hurt. His previously unknown paternal instincts kicked in and he gently embraced his new daughter, who held him back tightly.
"Sweetheart, daddy's not gonna let anything hurt you. I promise." The highs and lows of the past few years had hit him all instantaneously as he held his weeping child and soon found himself reluctantly joining her. He cried because he was sorry he had messed up so badly. He cried because he was sorry he had ignored and rejected his only child. He cried because his heart cried.
She calmed down. She looked to his face, but his evidence of sorrow had been erased.
"Life's gonna be different for ya, darlin'. You're never going to need or want again." He gave her a small smile.
"I want a kitty!" She said, excited.
"Maybe some day. If I like you enough."
She fell asleep cradled to him. Her arms were fastened on his chest. He felt that they both needed to be near each other that night. For what lied ahead, he wasn't sure. He expected it to be long and challenging, nearly impossible. But as a newly established dad, it was his job to try.
