A week ago I was so excited standing in that gas line. Logan and I were going away for a weekend together in the cabin. The cabin that holds so many memories for me from the one time I was there. Memories of Logan and the kiss we shared, memories of how it was there that I first began to admit to myself how much he means to me.
I was almost jumping out of my skin with anticipation and in love with the world that morning. Even Sketchy going on with his ridiculously convoluted scheme to get shoes was amusing to me. I actually listened to him rather than just asking him why he didn't go out and snatch himself a pair if he needed them so much.
So anyway here I am feeling like a little girl going on her first trip to the circus or something like that. Mixed in with the excitement was also some worry. Logan has always emphasized that our relationship is nothing personal. I'm his legs, his commander of the Logan Cale Brigade. But when he stood and looked down at me after the episode with the Red soldiers I saw something more in his eyes.
I saw it again when we met at the beach and I keep wondering what would have happened that night if Zack hadn't called when he did. I may not be much at this male female game but I know that Logan has feelings for me. So here we are going away together to an isolated cabin in the mountains. No phones, no friends, no Eyes Only.
Just Logan and me all by ourselves. Firelight and wine and S'mores and …?
Being so hyped up you can imagine my feelings when he started up with his "I'm in the wheelchair so what's the point" routine. The man needs to understand that life goes on. His wheels mean nothing to me. Logan is Logan, in the chair or out. If I wanted some physically perfect specimen I could have one in a minute. Being what I am, physical abilities hold little value to me. I don't get why he can't see that. Anyway he gave in (or so I thought) and we headed out only to end up in this creepy little town instead of the cabin.
You can imagine that I was pissed beyond all when I found out he had scammed me into the trip so he could do one of his Eyes Only investigative reporter routines. Deciding I wasn't going to let him ruin my weekend away I set out to have my own fun. Of course fate had other ideas in store.
My seizures kicked in big time and then I met this adorable little boy named Sage. Something about him spoke to me, I felt like he was a kindred spirit. This kid had been damaged in some way some time in his past and I wanted to help him if I could. That of course led to the whole fiasco with BC and crew.
If I hadn't been having the seizures BC and his punks would have been nothing more than a minor annoyance. Instead they were coming to kill us and I was flat on my back unable to do anything. I could tell Logan was scared but he wasn't about to let me or Sage know that. I never thought he had it in him to do what he did that night.
I know how hard it must be on him. My Logan, knight in shining armor, protector of all that is good, having to kill. I know he has a ruthless streak in him but I also know he wasn't brought up like I was. Killing was not something you learned about in his world of privilege and grace. I know it didn't come easy for him and I know he did it to protect me and to protect a little boy. I was so proud of him that night but I didn't know how to tell him so I resorted to my usual smart ass self. I think he knew what I was saying though – he smiled when I made that crack about the sidekick and on the way back to Seattle he put his arm around me and held me close to him.
So now here we are. Back in Seattle back to our normal (?) relationship. I go to his place almost every night for dinner, we play some chess, listen to music, exchange wisecracks.Afterwards I go to Crash with the gang or head on up to the Needle to think for a while.
But something is different. Logan seems to have a little more confidence in himself, like he's beginning to understand that the chair doesn't define who he is. I catch him looking at me with that look in his eyes more and more lately. And I catch myself making excuses to touch him. Casual touches, a quick brush against him in the kitchen, a touch of hands when I pass him a plate. He doesn't seem to mind, he even seems to be doing the same back to me.
One more thing. Every night before I head home I find myself stopping by his place. He gave me a key so I let myself in and go to his bedroom. I tell myself it's because I want to be sure he doesn't suddenly have some kind of guilt reaction over those punks. I worry that he'll start thinking about using that gun on himself again. I know that the middle of the night is the worst time for those kinds of thoughts and I want to be there for him if he needs me. The reality is that he's dealing with things fine and every night I find him sleeping peacefully. But I still have to go.
I'm here again and I'm almost in his room. I wonder what he would do if he woke up and saw me here. Maybe he would reach up and take my hand as I rest it against his cheek. Maybe he would pull me down next to him. Maybe he would kiss me. I've never been in his arms that way and I want to be so badly. I want to feel his strength and gentleness surrounding me. Maybe someday soon I will. Maybe he's starting to understand that I want him even if he is in that chair. Maybe there is hope for this genetically engineered killing machine to have a real human relationship. Maybe…