she woke up in his bed. she could smell him in the sheets. cigar smoke, soap, his cologne, the woods. all these to greet her when she woke, so that she smiled as she pushed herself away from the pillows.
and then she remembered.
oh god, she murmured, burying herself back into the mattress. pulling the sheets up over her head. flimsy protection from the world she'd grown into. been thrown into.
the insanity of which she, as of last night, had increased exponentially.
she watched the sun light up the sheets so they glowed from the inside. the thoughts ran around inside her head for a lifetime before she finally forced herself away from the cool haven she'd made herself out of logan's sheets and got out of bed.
startled, she slid back down so that she sat on the mattress it had taken her so long to leave. logan was looking at her.
just looking. weighing. judging. she didn't know what. and the spit in her mouth dried up.
"hell of a way to welcome a guy back."
her gaze fell to the floor. he caught the pain filling her eyes just before she took them from him.
"you're right. the polite thing would have been to get it over with before you got here."
softly she offered up this rebuke. he blinked.
"marie.."
she flinched. deflated.
"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.. i didn't mean for you to see this. to see me like this. i.."
she felt the tears start. the stinging that was so goddamn familiar. fucking tightening of her throat. the labour it was to breathe.
none of this was supposed to happen. this wasn't the grown woman she had so wanted to show him.
and that thought in itself led the welling liquid past her lids. down her cheeks. dropping soundlessly into her lap. onto her breasts.
he watched them. watched her brush them away, so furious with herself. he thought his heart would break.
"marie.. what happened?"
she shrugged, helpless.
he wanted to punch a hole through something. the rage, the need to blame someone for her pain and coming up with no one but himself, surfaced. he needed it to stop the hurt. anger was so much easier to deal with.
"how do you fucking try to kill yourself and not know why?!"
it was a near yell. marie jumped her eyes clenched shut against the guilt. she whispered,
"i'm sorry."
"don't FUCKING apologize. just tell me why."
"because i'm FUCKING insane!!"
her eyes were open now. defiant. pain-filled. wet.
"i've got multiple personality disorder, logan, like you would not fucking believe. so when i do something there are usually about a million reasons behind it, none of which i can necessarily decipher on a conscious level."
he just stared at her.
"please don't look at me like that, logan.."
his eyes closed slowly. opened again. ran the length of her face. her throat. her hair.
"like what?"
"like you don't know who or what i am. like i scare you.."
"you did scare me."
his hands covered his face. slid down it and then back up into his hair.
"jesus, marie, you scared the shit out of me."
she trembled at the quiet fear in his voice. it was so wrong.. coming out of him. she'd seen him scared before. silent. jaws clenched, ready to deal with it.. not like this. this despair.. this shaking.
"i didn't mean to," she whispered.
they were the only words she could get past her throat. she meant them with all her heart. and when he moved onto the bed with her and cradled her suddenly in his hard, strong arms she sobbed against his chest. as he wiped at the wetness in his own eyes.
"i know.. darlin'.. i know.."
"you have to talk to the professor, you know.."
she looked at him from across the bed. her only response to slide her tongue over suddenly dry lips.
".. marie, he'll be able to help."
she exhaled quickly at this. a silent snort.
"marie.."
"okay. okay, i'll talk to him."
she rolled over to face the wall, her legs curled up into her stomach.
logan leaned over and tugged gently on the brown locks that tumbled across his pillows. she pulled her head back to look at him. eyebrows raised. the beginnings of a smile on her face.
he was serious, though. his eyes. his mouth.
"don't.."
"don't what?" she asked.
"humour me. brush me off.. this is not a bad report card, marie.."
she waited. staring at the wall, knowing that he was right. hating that he was right. loving that he cared.
"i know.."
and then she remembered.
oh god, she murmured, burying herself back into the mattress. pulling the sheets up over her head. flimsy protection from the world she'd grown into. been thrown into.
the insanity of which she, as of last night, had increased exponentially.
she watched the sun light up the sheets so they glowed from the inside. the thoughts ran around inside her head for a lifetime before she finally forced herself away from the cool haven she'd made herself out of logan's sheets and got out of bed.
startled, she slid back down so that she sat on the mattress it had taken her so long to leave. logan was looking at her.
just looking. weighing. judging. she didn't know what. and the spit in her mouth dried up.
"hell of a way to welcome a guy back."
her gaze fell to the floor. he caught the pain filling her eyes just before she took them from him.
"you're right. the polite thing would have been to get it over with before you got here."
softly she offered up this rebuke. he blinked.
"marie.."
she flinched. deflated.
"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.. i didn't mean for you to see this. to see me like this. i.."
she felt the tears start. the stinging that was so goddamn familiar. fucking tightening of her throat. the labour it was to breathe.
none of this was supposed to happen. this wasn't the grown woman she had so wanted to show him.
and that thought in itself led the welling liquid past her lids. down her cheeks. dropping soundlessly into her lap. onto her breasts.
he watched them. watched her brush them away, so furious with herself. he thought his heart would break.
"marie.. what happened?"
she shrugged, helpless.
he wanted to punch a hole through something. the rage, the need to blame someone for her pain and coming up with no one but himself, surfaced. he needed it to stop the hurt. anger was so much easier to deal with.
"how do you fucking try to kill yourself and not know why?!"
it was a near yell. marie jumped her eyes clenched shut against the guilt. she whispered,
"i'm sorry."
"don't FUCKING apologize. just tell me why."
"because i'm FUCKING insane!!"
her eyes were open now. defiant. pain-filled. wet.
"i've got multiple personality disorder, logan, like you would not fucking believe. so when i do something there are usually about a million reasons behind it, none of which i can necessarily decipher on a conscious level."
he just stared at her.
"please don't look at me like that, logan.."
his eyes closed slowly. opened again. ran the length of her face. her throat. her hair.
"like what?"
"like you don't know who or what i am. like i scare you.."
"you did scare me."
his hands covered his face. slid down it and then back up into his hair.
"jesus, marie, you scared the shit out of me."
she trembled at the quiet fear in his voice. it was so wrong.. coming out of him. she'd seen him scared before. silent. jaws clenched, ready to deal with it.. not like this. this despair.. this shaking.
"i didn't mean to," she whispered.
they were the only words she could get past her throat. she meant them with all her heart. and when he moved onto the bed with her and cradled her suddenly in his hard, strong arms she sobbed against his chest. as he wiped at the wetness in his own eyes.
"i know.. darlin'.. i know.."
"you have to talk to the professor, you know.."
she looked at him from across the bed. her only response to slide her tongue over suddenly dry lips.
".. marie, he'll be able to help."
she exhaled quickly at this. a silent snort.
"marie.."
"okay. okay, i'll talk to him."
she rolled over to face the wall, her legs curled up into her stomach.
logan leaned over and tugged gently on the brown locks that tumbled across his pillows. she pulled her head back to look at him. eyebrows raised. the beginnings of a smile on her face.
he was serious, though. his eyes. his mouth.
"don't.."
"don't what?" she asked.
"humour me. brush me off.. this is not a bad report card, marie.."
she waited. staring at the wall, knowing that he was right. hating that he was right. loving that he cared.
"i know.."