Title: Bring me to Life 3/?
Author's Notes: Thanks again to everybody that's reviewed, I'm still not sure exactly what I'm doing with this story, like I'd said earlier, I'm just rambling and hoping a plot develops. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!
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It'd been two days since Logan's appearance in her bedroom and since then he and Leora had begun an angry avoidance of each other. Occasionally she'd find herself staring at him, be it across a crowded room or simply from her bedroom window, but every time she forced herself to remember the scene, how he'd stared at her coldly and basically told her she was insane to expect him to be there for her. Granted Leora realized she was purposely simplifying it, but if she let herself see the truth in it, then she'd run across the hall and grovel at his feet. She knew it was pride, but she couldn't help herself.
Xavier had to know what was going on, odds were Jean did as well, but neither said anything, wisely realizing that a person's mind was a person's mind and if they weren't going to take advice, the sure as hell weren't going to take a mental push from a psychic. Leora found herself walking the grounds aimlessly, she'd finished the day's meeting with the professor and had fled, they hadn't touched on anything really, to be honest with the rape a lot of her memories had left anyway. It was like her life began on that night. The only true memories she had were of Logan. Ironically, those were the ones she wished she could forget. She kicked savagely at a pinecone, rounding a copse of trees and finding herself staring at a large pond. There was a low stone bench in the shade of a massive oak and she used the excuse to sit down. Tossing her hair back she slipped off the shoes on her feet, she tried to go barefoot whenever possible and stretched, wiggling her toes luxuriously in the grass, groaning softly in contentment.
"Oh, it's you," Leora jumped, twisting her upper body to find the voice filled with sarcastic disappointment. A girl of about seventeen, maybe eighteen, with white streaks in her otherwise dark brown hair stood in a defiant stance, hands on hips, a pout firmly in place. Leora arched an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you. Whom were you expecting?" The girl glared.
"Doesn't matter." Leora gestured to the other end of the bench.
"Please, sit down, I'm Leora." The girl snorted.
"I know." She sat down, actually straddling the end of the bench so that she was staring Leora in the face. "Rogue," she finally answered, sounding like she rather liked the mystery of keeping Leora in the dark about her name. Leora smiled, kicking a leg over the bench to mimic the girls sitting position.
"Now, why don't you want me to be here?" Rogue shrugged.
"It doesn't matter. What kind of a girly name is Leora Cassadine? I mean, you sound like one of those big breasted heroines from some trashy romance novel. And I gotta know, is that accent even real?" Leora arched an eyebrow.
"Yes, and it's a family name, actually." To be honest, she really didn't have much of an accent, just a lilting, musical quality to her voice that came back when she was really upset, emotional upheaval or otherwise. Rogue gave her another look and she sighed, "I grew up spending my summers in Greece, my father was Greek, Leora means 'rebirth', by the way. And our surname 'Cassadine' we were one of one of the more powerful families in the country." Rogue raised her eyebrows.
"So you're loaded?" Leora laughed softly.
"I suppose," Leora didn't like talking about the family. She knew them, remembered them, but it was misty, like some kind of a distant dream. Her mother had died young and her father had disappeared, she was alone, and she supposed an heiress. Well, she was rich and she had property, nice clothes, a summer estate in Greece and a house in New Orleans. She didn't want for anything. She snorted, except for Logan. "Why the sudden interest in me?" She asked gently. Rogue stared at her levelly.
"Do you know what they're saying about you? And him?" The way she said 'him', the inflection, Leora knew without having to be told that the girl meant Logan. Leora sighed.
"What are they saying?" She almost didn't want to know.
"You two were involved, weren't you?"
"About as much as could be expected."
"So you were fuck buddies?" Leora looked into the girls eyes keenly.
"Would that make you feel better? If I told you that it was just meaningless sex and that it was a long time ago? If you expect me to reassure you, little girl, you're sadly mistaken." Rogue winced.
"I didn't mean that-"
"Yeah, you did. I'm getting sick of people talking to me about Logan as though he's this mythical god! He's a man, for Chrissakes!" Leora stopped talking abruptly, realizing she was rambling. "I'm sorry," she sighed, "it's just that I've seen him, I know him, and he's not the saint you people seem to think he is."
"I never said he was a saint." Leora didn't comment, just looked levelly at the girl. "He took care of me, okay? He touched me when everybody else was afraid of getting their minds sucked out and he listens when I talk," she took a breath, "And he doesn't treat me like a kid," she finished finally.
"You're in love with him," Leora put in quietly, she could sense it from this girl, the passion rolling in waves from her body, like dark rose petals. If Leora closed her eyes she could see the burgundy color surrounding this girl, while it was probably little more than a crush, it ran deep and certainly didn't mean that the feelings were any less real. The girl kicked her legs on either side of the stone bench, perhaps realizing she was coming across as childish.
"No, I mean, I've got a boyfriend, and yeah, Bobby's sweet… but he's not Logan." Leora smiled softly, boy did that sound familiar. Leora reached out a hand, gently covering the girl's gloved ones. Rogue jumped, obviously not expecting the touch.
"What do you want to know about him?" she asked gently, seeming to sense that Rogue's questions weren't coming from a need to know about the relationship so much as about the Wolverine himself.
"How did you… I mean… he never talks about his feelings, how did you know?" Leora lifted a shoulder, the thin straps of the tank top slide down it and she didn't' bother to straighten them.
"I didn't, I suppose. But I just knew. You see… when I met Logan I was going through my own things," she sighed, how did she explain this to a seventeen year old? "You see, there's a place inside me that's closed off, that's been hurt so many times I won't open it up to anybody else, ever again. Don't ask me how, because I'm not even sure myself, but he's got the same problem. See, there's a place inside Logan that nobody can reach, and he likes it that way. Strangely, I think I came really close, but he pulled back. Of course," she shrugged, "so did I."
"You loved him?"
"As much as he'd let me, yes." Rogue stared at her, watching her keenly.
"And now?" Leora shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulders.
"I don't know. If the students are talking I'm sure you already know that we had a fight a few days ago," Rogue nodded, "I have a problem… opening up, even to myself. I don't know what I feel for anything anymore."
"You know how he feels about Doctor Grey?" Leora felt the beginnings of a twinge of bitterness in this girl; the red of the rose petals were tinged the tiniest bit around the edges with the beginnings of a lemon yellow, the color of corruption. Leora winced, nodding her head finally. She knew the girl wasn't trying to hurt her, but she also knew that Logan's feelings for the good Doctor had hurt Rogue, probably more than once.
"I know how she feels about him," and Leora suddenly realized she did. Jean felt for Logan the kind of affection people feel for friends who could be more, but never would be. She saw him as a sort of Brando-circa-The-Wild-One type of guy. Bad boy but with a heart of gold, and while Leora knew there was good in Logan, she also knew that Jean didn't know him nearly as well as she and her telekinetic mind thought she did. Leora wouldn't be surprised if Logan had pushed the limits, kissed her, shoved her against the wall with full intent on seducing her in his rough way, but Jean had tasted and turned him down flat. The woman was the type to say she wanted to be bad, but never fully give into the urge, given half a chance.
"He's in love with her," Rogue answered, glaring at the pond, turning her head away. Leora caught the bitter flash in her eyes though, she felt for the girl, but she knew that statement wasn't quite right.
"No, he's intrigued by her. He wants her, but he's not in love with her."
"How can you want someone as much as he wants her and not be in love with them?" Rogue asked finally, turning her head away from the pond to stare at Leora in astonishment. She saw the way he looked at Jean, saw the way Jean looked at him, felt the way he'd ramble about her to Rogue for hours, and completely forgetting that there was a flesh and blood woman (yes she was a woman, contrary to what everyone around here seemed to think) standing right in front of him who'd be more than willing to hold him if he'd just give her a chance.
"It's very simple, actually. There are a thousand different emotions, sensations, in the human body. Think about how many synonyms there are for a word like 'happy', it's endless. Logan wants her because he knows he can't have her. He'll pine for her for ages because letting go would be too easy." Now who's bitter? Leora thought quietly, she knew Logan because they were so very alike. By convincing himself he'd fallen for Jean he forgot about Leora, by knowing he could never have Jean, he punished himself for whatever multitude of sins he felt he deserved to be punished for. She knew with a certainty that startled her that if Jean Grey should suddenly drop Scott Summers and run down the hall to the Wolverine he'd find that he didn't want her as much as he thought he did. And that was another kind of punishment in itself, wasn't it? To have a person completely devoted to you and for you yourself to want to be elsewhere? To not want to hurt them? To put up with their touches because you loved them enough to indulge them, but not to indulge yourself? She sighed, thoughts like that got her nowhere.
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Rogue answered, suddenly crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at something passed Leora's shoulder that she couldn't see, she wondered if the girl was recognizing something in Logan that was in herself. Leora looked at the girl in the tank top and elbow length mesh gloves, she wanted Logan with a devotion that only comes with that youthful innocence, but she could never have him. Oh, sure, he could one day go for her, but Leora realized suddenly, she could never hold him the way she wanted to.
"Don't hate yourself because you're different," Leora answered quietly. Rogue jumped.
"What?"
"How long has it been, since you've been touched without something holding you in?" The girl shivered.
"Years, Bobby's kissed me, but… that was different too." Leora wouldn't question that, though she was sorely tempted to.
"Your 'gift' is attached to your emotions, isn't it?" The girl nodded. "If you could learn to control yourself, would you?"
"How would I do that? I can't stop feeling…" Leora shrugged.
"Sure you can. Anybody can turn themselves off, it just takes control," Lots of it, Leora amended silently.
"But would you?" Both women jumped, turning to the copse of trees, Logan walked easily around it, though Leora noted 'walk' wasn't the correct term. More like stalking. He was angry at her, she realized, his anger was like a violent red flame encompassing his body. His body was tightly controlled, each step seeming a prowl, like a wolf. "One day, kid, you'll find that you've spent so long not feeling, that the thought of feeling anything is alien." Leora resisted the urge to smile; he used the word 'kid' as an endearment and she had a feeling the girl didn't like being referred to as a kid. "Could you do that?" The girl shivered, shaking her head. Logan's grin flashed briefly, quickly, "Ororo's looking for you." Rogue stood quickly, happy for the escape. She fled without a word, her dark hair trailing behind her in the air like a flag. Leora stared after her for a moment, then turned her gaze to Logan.
She rose slowly, then stepped back from the bench, not on the defensive, but giving herself a tiny bit of distance from that anger. He glared at her, "Well that was abrupt." She answered quietly and he made a sound low in his throat, like a growl.
"I'll thank you not to coach her into whatever it is you did to yourself." Leora arched an eyebrow.
"I did something to me?"
"You're the one that said you couldn't' feel anything, Leora, and now you're suggesting it to a girl who's been hurt."
"I was hurt! Look, I'm not saying it was something she should or shouldn't do, I was just suggesting it, she's been hurt because she's been starved for contact." Leora sighed, how could she explain this to him? Some people actually died from not being touched, human contact was one of the things that made people human. "She wants to be loved, Logan. You're untouchable because you want to be, she was forced into it. There's a subtle difference."
"Who said I wanted to be?" he challenged, they were practically nose to nose, or rather, they would be if she weren't so god-damned short. He remembered that that had been one of the things that had attracted him to her, she seemed so very fragile next to him, breakable. Leora stared up at him, the glare turning slowly into something else, something like understanding.
"What you told her… it wasn't a dig at me, was it?" her tone was accusatory and he simply looked at her. She sighed softly, "Logan why didn't you tell me?"
"Would you have believed me?" She shook her head. He wasn't angry anymore, just tired. The exhaustion fell over him like a baby blue blanket, the ends of it touching her, making her just as tired as he was. He turned abruptly, walking over to the trees and sitting down abruptly, resting his elbow on a knee, he stared up at her, almost defiantly. Leora sighed, he never just let go with his emotions, he'd show a little, then pull back, surrounding himself with years of hate so that he could fend off anything that challenged the little vulnerability that he put out there. But she knew it was there, there were times when she'd seen chinks in his armor before, when he'd lowered his defenses to tell her things, to let her see things about him that she would never have given him credit for.
He was hers, if she'd just take him. But she wouldn't. Leora had the same problem he did. He stared up into those ice blue eyes of hers, silently hoping that she'd slide down next to him. He remembered how forgiving her body was, the way it molded to his like it was made expressly for that purpose. Though he had a gut feeling that she was to blind to see it, or rather, she was to willingly blind. He could hear her heart beating in her chest, see the way it pounded against the cotton of the tank top, she wore purple and black, the jeans so black that it was almost surreal, the top a light lilac, it showed considerably more skin that she'd shown the first day. He found he liked the change. She stared at him, her eyes flicking over his body as though she were seeing something in him that he didn't see, made him want to make sure his socks matched or something, but whatever she saw, it seemed to make her come to a decision. She walked over to him, silently reaching a hand to him, he took it, surprised, and she slide down to his body, suddenly straddling him. "You could have told me anyway."
His hands settled at her hips, holding her body, her scent was in his nose, getting under his skin, lavender was what it was. She tossed her hair back, those damnable straps slid down her shoulders again and this time she didn't' save them, just looked up into his eyes, her own so sad that it made him ache for her. The top had slid down her body the tiniest bit, he found that he was granted sight to the first swells of her breasts. He remembered times when he'd buried his head in that hollow, the way she'd moaned and he'd felt the vibrations of it against his lips, it was tantalizing.
Her hands gently cupped his cheeks, she felt the scratchy/smooth of his beard and his face, her thumbs gently rubbed the skin just beneath his eyes and he closed them for a moment. She tilted his head forward, her lips brushing his forehead. His smell invaded her senses, making her remember summer nights with the windows open, hours on his bike, going to seedy bars to play pool on crooked tables. He was motor oil and whisky with enough tinge of the outside that he was like nature itself. Logan wasn't just a man, he was primal, evoking in her the urge to do things that were more carnal than anything she'd ever done before. She sighed, his lips rested against the pulse behind her ear, she felt his breath on her neck and it made her shiver, made her squirm with feelings that she'd thought she'd forgotten. Desire, his desire, pulsed around her like black velvet, tickling her skin and making her want nothing more than to be with him, to hold him, to take him into herself until she wasn't Leora anymore, but something new entirely.
She held his head to the curve of her neck, looking up into the branches of the tree, her fingers slid into his hair and he shivered. The light from the afternoon sun filtered in through the leaves and she sighed in contentment. The birds chirped, the crickets twilled, and the sounds of the branches with their rustling limbs were hypnotic, lulling her into a sense of sensuality that wouldn't be denied. She closed her eyes as his lips moved against her skin, biting her lip against a whimper, she hadn't let herself be touched by a man like this sense the rape. Oh sure, she'd fucked them all but good, but gentleness had never been a part of it. She'd gone from 'making love' to full out fucking. And she liked it that way. Except with him. With Logan… this felt right.
He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when she let him kiss her. After the other night he was almost afraid to touch her, let alone like this. He felt guilty, that was true, and actually, all of what she'd told Marie had been true, that was the problem. He'd run from her because Leora read him better than anyone. But he couldn't stop wanting her. She got under his skin, staying their, holding on with nails in his veins, she was like some kind of a drug. She moved her hips against his, his growing erection straining underneath his jeans and he groaned low in his throat. The effect was a growl and an answering groan came from her lips as well. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. It was gratifying, but it wouldn't help much in the end. What happened out here didn't mean much at all, he knew that if this happened then she'd still look at him the same way afterward. She wouldn't let him back in to what they'd once had. Not that he deserved it anyway.
Her fingers slid down his chest to his jeans and thoughts were driven out of his head completely. He fell back against the tree, the big trunk against his spine, just the tiniest bit uncomfortably, but he didn't' care. This was going to happen, right now, and he wasn't going to stop it. His name was a plea on her lips and his hands slid down the back of the tank top, to the hem and then upward again, finally touching bare skin underneath it. The top slid downward completely, and he moved his hands again, palming her breasts and thanking heaven she wasn't afraid to go braless. She groaned again, her head falling to the side she looked at him through a curtain of that hair and he found that Jean was the farthest thing from his mind. Marie too for that matter. There was nothing but her eyes. Her head fell forward and her hands went to his shoulders, supporting herself.
His hands left her breasts, going back to her spine, tickling his way gently up her spine, his nails gently testing the skin. He knew she liked having her back scratched, the sensations against her skin were nice. She moaned this time and his hands flattened, sliding completely upward to the balls of her shoulders and grasping there. Her forehead touched his for a moment and her breath hissed through her teeth as she ground her pelvis down into his. He felt his hips buck upward and she tossed her head back, the strands of her hair tickling his fingers. His hands slid downward and her hands left his shoulders, going to the tree itself, one hand on either side of his head. She straightened, her breasts brushing the cloth of his wife beater. Something was happening.
His nails suddenly dug into her skin, going down her shoulder blades and he felt scar tissue beneath each finger just as her body jerked hard. Her hands tightened on the tree and her eyes went completely blank. She jerked again as though hit by a bolt of lightening that had nothing to do with what they were doing, throwing back her head she let out a bloodcurdling scream.
He froze, staring up at her in surprise, his body going into a kind of paralysis. He knew that they would come running from the house, that odds were they'd find them exactly like this, and under normal circumstances he'd move away from her, protecting his own interests before helping her, but he found that he was afraid for her, he wasn't moving until he knew what the hell was going on.
"What the fuck?!" Logan's body clenched and he turned his head, he found he couldn't move anyway, her body was frozen in the same position above his and he couldn't move her on his own. He didn't have to have Summers remove those glasses of his without knowing that disgust was evident on the boy's face. He probably thought Logan was raping her. "Get off of her!"
Get off of her? Oh that was rich.
Before Logan could reply Leora shivered in his arms, her body going suddenly limp, she collapsed against him. He used the opportunity to straighten, choosing to ignore the group of boys that followed Summers from the basketball court even though they were getting a really good view of Leora's bare breasts, holding her in his arms he eased her backward. She was still straddling him but he was cradling her head, trying to get her to look him in the eye. She opened her eyes to slits, exhaustion making her slur her words. "I know what's going to happen."
And then she was unconscious.