AN: For flow reasons I shifted the story from 1st person perspective to
3rd person(do you KNOW how hard it is to write from Logan's perspective
this long???). Actually, with more characters it'll be easier to
understand the rest from an outside POV.
"Warren"
The name came like a whisper to him and he twitched slightly in his sleep.
"Waaarren"
A little louder now and he mumbled something and turned over in his bed.
WARREN
He snorted and startled, but didn't wake. A hand reflexively brushed the side of his face, running through stubble and then catching in his blonde hair and staying there.
WARREN!! WARRENWARRENWARRENWARRENWARRENWARREN
He jerked upright, his blue eyes flying open as he stared around the room. Someone had called his name....They still were. The warm heat of sleep slowly seeped away from him and his foggy brain realized the incessant screeching of his name was nothing more than the loud shrill of his alarm Groaning he slammed a fist into the top of the clock and winced as the shrill went out with a whine. He really had to watch how hard he hit those things, this was the third one this week alone. Of course, the fact that they brought him back to a reality he would rather not face had a rather large something to do with the destruction of the simple machines. He couldn't believe they were all gone. Jean, Scott, Rogue, Remy, Wolverine and Jubilee. Friends...Family. And in the blink of an eye they were gone.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Warren planted his feet on the ground and sat pensively for a moment, his satin sheets curled about his waist and his long white wings stretched out behind him as he rubbed a carefully manicured hand across his face. Like he had so many times in the past few days, he fought the oncoming bout of despair and depression with mental tooth and nail, determined not to sucuumb to it. He had to keep it together, had to think it all through, had to figure out what had happend. So far, no authorities were able to give him a straight answer and noone could give him any information about what had caused the crash. The fact that they had found Remy in tact a few feet away from the site suggested some may have gotten out, but with no further evidence they were forced to pronounce the others dead.
Warren pushed himself up, absently letting the sheet drop to the ground to reveal his naked body to the world. Not that anyone could see him. Or had. He frowned. A name stood out in his head. Carol. Where had he heard that name before? A number flashed and he felt the urgent pull to call, but pushed it aside. If they had been a tryst he really shouldn't. The number flashed more urgently this time but he forced it out of his head for the moment. He wasn't going to do it. Besides, he couldn't put a face to the name. Chances are "Carol" was a drunken night at a bar and he wasn't going to raise her hopes. Entering the bathroom he leaned over the sink and took a long look at his haggard appearence in the mirror. Another day, another doller. Mechanically his boby began to prepare him for another meaningless day of work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wolverine pounded on the door to the bathroom, anxiously trying to get Carol to open up. It had been close to a half hour now and he was starting to panic. Without his hearing he couldn't tell what she was up to nor her state of mind and it was starting to get a rise out of him. He had forgotten how much he depended on his super senses and now his lack of one made him feel both defenseless and useless. He wasn't sure how to handle this and the animal inside was straining to take over
"Open the door Carol!" he bellowed, his hand leaving dents in the cheap wood, paint flecking off under his hand. He breathed in short pants of air....What was she doing? What if she was trying to kill herself....Rogue's self! Ridiculous notion the human side of his brain argued, but the beast often won out in this battle of wills and he was having a hard time hearing that logical sense over the buzz in his ears as it was. The fact that it was being hog tied and strangled by his other half didn't help either. As he continued to bludgeon the door his heart rate rapidly increased, causing the blood to pound harder through his head and the buzzing to get louder and....
The door opened slightly as he raised his fist to strike once more and it stood slightly ajar in front of him. Surprised he stared at it for a moment and then place an open palm in the middle of the door and shoved it open none-to-kindly. Facing Carol he was sure he looked terrible, he was more than a little frazzled, but everything stopped for a moment as he got his first glimpse of her face. He could smell the tears on her and he had been able to smell her vommiting from outside the door, but nothing prepared him for the look of pure desolation on her face. His blood stopped pounding and the beast inside stopped howling. In only a moment he went from beserker wolverine to humbled old man.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her hands wringing a worn piece of toilet paper between them, "Why didn't you tell me it would be like that?" she railed against him. Logan didn't know how to answer. He could only stare helplessly as she bore her accusing eyes into his own. Carol Danvers had been one of the toughest women he had known and SHE was crying before him now.
"I didn't know" he almost whispered, not sure how to answer her. Carol turned away from him and placed a hand on the sink staring into the mirror. Logan came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, watching her mouth in her reflection.
"I..." she began, "I couldn't...That was the worst thing I've ever been through. All of her thoughts, all of her emotions...She was pregnant Logan and I saw her lose Scott and the baby all in one day" Logan's heart clenched and tears sprung to his eyes. It was the child she and Scott had been trying for. It tore at him that they had lost more than they even knew. Carol sobbed again, "And now...now I can't touch anybody. YOU pulled me out and into this hell all alone and NOW I can't even touch anybody to make it go away!!" She turned and pounded her fists on his chest and he bowed his head, taking it passively as she got her anger and frustration out, "WHY?" she screamed, "WHY? Whywhywhywhy?? WHY ME?" She sobbed once more and then dropped against him, pressing her face into the soft flannel that covered his expansive torso, burying her eyes into it and gripping his shirt with desperate palms.
"Because you were the best" he said softly, "And I knew you could help me save them" He lifted his fully covered arms up and wrapped them around Rogues slender body, clutching it to himself, "Noone was a better fighter than you Carol. Even after all you lost and all you went through you kept on fighting, not willing to give up. I knew I couldn't do it alone and Rogue was losing it. I needed you, your spirit, your will to live to help me save them and myself. To help us get out alive" his voice was quiet and gruff, barely audible over her sobs, but he knew she could still hear him. No machismo this time, no holding back. He pushed her back slightly and she looked into his eyes, "I'm sorry" he said. She sniffled and held his gaze a moment longer. Nodding she brushed tears away from under her eyes which he desperately wished he could do himself. Letting out one of his claws he lifted it next to her face and with the greatest care brushed it down her cheek in a tender gesture. He wished he could do more to take the hurting away. With the same claw he brushed an errant hair back behind her ear and then resheathed it and wrapped her in his embrace once more.
When he could feel her breathing return to normal he place a gentle kiss on the top of her hair and then pushed her back. Rogue's green eyes stared at him, naked in their pain but together in their composure. She was ok. She was no longer hysterical. They would make it through this. As he watched that glint of determination that only Carol Danvers knew returned to her eyes and hardened the resolve he knew was just beneath, "Well, lets end this then"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warren drummed his pencil on his desk, pensive and irritated that he couldn't get any work done. Even the tapping was mimmicking his thoughts
W-a -a -ren - Cah -ah - rol
Both followed by a ten digit number that would NOT go away. For crissake he couldn't even remember the woman's face but he knew her number by heart? What the hell did that say. He continued his drumming, his chin propped on one hand, his leg beginning to join in the beat.
W a a ren Ca ahrol waarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaaren cahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahr olwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrol WAA-THWACK!
The pencil went flying across the room the same moment Warren kicked his toe into his desk...HARD. Swearing he stood and stormed around his room, throwing his arms up and waving htem around he began a diatribe about stupid people and retarded phone numbers and not enough time to stress but not enough life to fit all this IN...
He grabbed the phone viciously off his desk and pounded in the numbers, cussing everytime they touched the keypad, mentally swearing as he brought the phone to his ear, his mood darkening as the phone rang several times. Figures noone would be-
"Hello?" his heart stopped as a groggy voice answered. He'd recognise that voice anywhere
"Jean?" Warren gasped.
"Warren"
The name came like a whisper to him and he twitched slightly in his sleep.
"Waaarren"
A little louder now and he mumbled something and turned over in his bed.
WARREN
He snorted and startled, but didn't wake. A hand reflexively brushed the side of his face, running through stubble and then catching in his blonde hair and staying there.
WARREN!! WARRENWARRENWARRENWARRENWARRENWARREN
He jerked upright, his blue eyes flying open as he stared around the room. Someone had called his name....They still were. The warm heat of sleep slowly seeped away from him and his foggy brain realized the incessant screeching of his name was nothing more than the loud shrill of his alarm Groaning he slammed a fist into the top of the clock and winced as the shrill went out with a whine. He really had to watch how hard he hit those things, this was the third one this week alone. Of course, the fact that they brought him back to a reality he would rather not face had a rather large something to do with the destruction of the simple machines. He couldn't believe they were all gone. Jean, Scott, Rogue, Remy, Wolverine and Jubilee. Friends...Family. And in the blink of an eye they were gone.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Warren planted his feet on the ground and sat pensively for a moment, his satin sheets curled about his waist and his long white wings stretched out behind him as he rubbed a carefully manicured hand across his face. Like he had so many times in the past few days, he fought the oncoming bout of despair and depression with mental tooth and nail, determined not to sucuumb to it. He had to keep it together, had to think it all through, had to figure out what had happend. So far, no authorities were able to give him a straight answer and noone could give him any information about what had caused the crash. The fact that they had found Remy in tact a few feet away from the site suggested some may have gotten out, but with no further evidence they were forced to pronounce the others dead.
Warren pushed himself up, absently letting the sheet drop to the ground to reveal his naked body to the world. Not that anyone could see him. Or had. He frowned. A name stood out in his head. Carol. Where had he heard that name before? A number flashed and he felt the urgent pull to call, but pushed it aside. If they had been a tryst he really shouldn't. The number flashed more urgently this time but he forced it out of his head for the moment. He wasn't going to do it. Besides, he couldn't put a face to the name. Chances are "Carol" was a drunken night at a bar and he wasn't going to raise her hopes. Entering the bathroom he leaned over the sink and took a long look at his haggard appearence in the mirror. Another day, another doller. Mechanically his boby began to prepare him for another meaningless day of work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wolverine pounded on the door to the bathroom, anxiously trying to get Carol to open up. It had been close to a half hour now and he was starting to panic. Without his hearing he couldn't tell what she was up to nor her state of mind and it was starting to get a rise out of him. He had forgotten how much he depended on his super senses and now his lack of one made him feel both defenseless and useless. He wasn't sure how to handle this and the animal inside was straining to take over
"Open the door Carol!" he bellowed, his hand leaving dents in the cheap wood, paint flecking off under his hand. He breathed in short pants of air....What was she doing? What if she was trying to kill herself....Rogue's self! Ridiculous notion the human side of his brain argued, but the beast often won out in this battle of wills and he was having a hard time hearing that logical sense over the buzz in his ears as it was. The fact that it was being hog tied and strangled by his other half didn't help either. As he continued to bludgeon the door his heart rate rapidly increased, causing the blood to pound harder through his head and the buzzing to get louder and....
The door opened slightly as he raised his fist to strike once more and it stood slightly ajar in front of him. Surprised he stared at it for a moment and then place an open palm in the middle of the door and shoved it open none-to-kindly. Facing Carol he was sure he looked terrible, he was more than a little frazzled, but everything stopped for a moment as he got his first glimpse of her face. He could smell the tears on her and he had been able to smell her vommiting from outside the door, but nothing prepared him for the look of pure desolation on her face. His blood stopped pounding and the beast inside stopped howling. In only a moment he went from beserker wolverine to humbled old man.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her hands wringing a worn piece of toilet paper between them, "Why didn't you tell me it would be like that?" she railed against him. Logan didn't know how to answer. He could only stare helplessly as she bore her accusing eyes into his own. Carol Danvers had been one of the toughest women he had known and SHE was crying before him now.
"I didn't know" he almost whispered, not sure how to answer her. Carol turned away from him and placed a hand on the sink staring into the mirror. Logan came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, watching her mouth in her reflection.
"I..." she began, "I couldn't...That was the worst thing I've ever been through. All of her thoughts, all of her emotions...She was pregnant Logan and I saw her lose Scott and the baby all in one day" Logan's heart clenched and tears sprung to his eyes. It was the child she and Scott had been trying for. It tore at him that they had lost more than they even knew. Carol sobbed again, "And now...now I can't touch anybody. YOU pulled me out and into this hell all alone and NOW I can't even touch anybody to make it go away!!" She turned and pounded her fists on his chest and he bowed his head, taking it passively as she got her anger and frustration out, "WHY?" she screamed, "WHY? Whywhywhywhy?? WHY ME?" She sobbed once more and then dropped against him, pressing her face into the soft flannel that covered his expansive torso, burying her eyes into it and gripping his shirt with desperate palms.
"Because you were the best" he said softly, "And I knew you could help me save them" He lifted his fully covered arms up and wrapped them around Rogues slender body, clutching it to himself, "Noone was a better fighter than you Carol. Even after all you lost and all you went through you kept on fighting, not willing to give up. I knew I couldn't do it alone and Rogue was losing it. I needed you, your spirit, your will to live to help me save them and myself. To help us get out alive" his voice was quiet and gruff, barely audible over her sobs, but he knew she could still hear him. No machismo this time, no holding back. He pushed her back slightly and she looked into his eyes, "I'm sorry" he said. She sniffled and held his gaze a moment longer. Nodding she brushed tears away from under her eyes which he desperately wished he could do himself. Letting out one of his claws he lifted it next to her face and with the greatest care brushed it down her cheek in a tender gesture. He wished he could do more to take the hurting away. With the same claw he brushed an errant hair back behind her ear and then resheathed it and wrapped her in his embrace once more.
When he could feel her breathing return to normal he place a gentle kiss on the top of her hair and then pushed her back. Rogue's green eyes stared at him, naked in their pain but together in their composure. She was ok. She was no longer hysterical. They would make it through this. As he watched that glint of determination that only Carol Danvers knew returned to her eyes and hardened the resolve he knew was just beneath, "Well, lets end this then"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warren drummed his pencil on his desk, pensive and irritated that he couldn't get any work done. Even the tapping was mimmicking his thoughts
W-a -a -ren - Cah -ah - rol
Both followed by a ten digit number that would NOT go away. For crissake he couldn't even remember the woman's face but he knew her number by heart? What the hell did that say. He continued his drumming, his chin propped on one hand, his leg beginning to join in the beat.
W a a ren Ca ahrol waarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaaren cahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahr olwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrolwaarencahahrol WAA-THWACK!
The pencil went flying across the room the same moment Warren kicked his toe into his desk...HARD. Swearing he stood and stormed around his room, throwing his arms up and waving htem around he began a diatribe about stupid people and retarded phone numbers and not enough time to stress but not enough life to fit all this IN...
He grabbed the phone viciously off his desk and pounded in the numbers, cussing everytime they touched the keypad, mentally swearing as he brought the phone to his ear, his mood darkening as the phone rang several times. Figures noone would be-
"Hello?" his heart stopped as a groggy voice answered. He'd recognise that voice anywhere
"Jean?" Warren gasped.