Title: Between
Author: Dreamiflame
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine. Logan belong to Marvel and whomever else, and Tara belongs to the god commonly known as Joss.
Notes: This was the result of a challenge on livejournal to write a drabble or something with Tara and Logan. For some reason this occured to me.
Warning: Spoiler for X2.
The thing was, Logan healed from everything. That didn't mean he'd never died, only that he always came back.
He fell, farther than just onto the porch where his body rested. His soul, his essence, he wasn't sure what to call it, but part of it fell farther, into a place he was getting to be quite familiar with. Every time, another spirit told him it wasn't his time, and he went back.
She was different this time, slight, pale and blonde. There was a mark on her shirt, like an old stain washed repeatedly but never completely removed. She smiled at him softly, and he felt his face mirror her expression. "It's not your time, Logan," she said quietly, and he shrugged.
"Never is," he replied, and felt the familiar rising pull. "What's your name?" he asked quickly, drawn to this quiet girl, though he didn't know why.
"Tara," she told him faintly, as he was drawn back into his body. He heard metal hit wood and his eyes opened.
Author: Dreamiflame
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine. Logan belong to Marvel and whomever else, and Tara belongs to the god commonly known as Joss.
Notes: This was the result of a challenge on livejournal to write a drabble or something with Tara and Logan. For some reason this occured to me.
Warning: Spoiler for X2.
The thing was, Logan healed from everything. That didn't mean he'd never died, only that he always came back.
He fell, farther than just onto the porch where his body rested. His soul, his essence, he wasn't sure what to call it, but part of it fell farther, into a place he was getting to be quite familiar with. Every time, another spirit told him it wasn't his time, and he went back.
She was different this time, slight, pale and blonde. There was a mark on her shirt, like an old stain washed repeatedly but never completely removed. She smiled at him softly, and he felt his face mirror her expression. "It's not your time, Logan," she said quietly, and he shrugged.
"Never is," he replied, and felt the familiar rising pull. "What's your name?" he asked quickly, drawn to this quiet girl, though he didn't know why.
"Tara," she told him faintly, as he was drawn back into his body. He heard metal hit wood and his eyes opened.