Disclaimer: I don't own Wolverine, or Jean Grey, but the narrator of this story is mine.
A/N: This is somewhat AU, and would take place sort-of in my 'A Single Tear Drop' timeline. It's even really AU for that so...anyways, on with the story.
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Sad Eyes
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Sad eyes. That's what I saw when I looked at him. As I sat all alone in the corner booth of some tiny train car diner, I merely watched the man known as Logan. I'd been watching him for a few days now, ever since he started staying at the hotel up the street. This is where I was told to find him. I'm not surprised. He always did hang around places like this. Either some little diner or a seedy bar. For my own sake, I'm glad this time it's not the latter.
I huddled in the shadows at my table, wearing a long, well-worn trench coat. I had to dress casually, not like my normal clothes from my own time. That would draw too much attention. And what I didn't need right now was attention. Most people wouldn't even pay me any mind, probably figured I was a runaway just hanging out for some shelter for a little while.
I watched Logan carefully, trying to gather information from his posture, his body language. I dare not approach the man, I didn't want to screw things up. Not this time, there was a life at stake. For my own purposes, I won't say whose life right now, but this person is someone I barely know...I never even got the chance.
Logan probably knew I'd been watching him. That didn't surprise me. I'd be dead right now if he thought I was a threat though. Maybe, or I'm just biding my time until he's ready. He had to have known there was something odd about me. He's looked my way a few times, atleast once for every day he's seen me here; and I *know* he's seen me.
Like I said before, what I saw when I looked at him, every time, was those sad blue eyes. I think he keeps glancing my way because he knows. Well, he probably doesn't *really* know, but he knows something. Maybe he recognizes me, or I remind him of someone. I should. My own eyes give it away. They're green, a bright mesmerizing green that he knows only too well.
The green eyes I have belong to a person whom he's loved for a long time. Logan just thinks he'll never get the chance with her. He will though, he just doesn't know it yet.
He orders a beer from the waitress, and she obliges. It's a little too early for beer, in my opinion, but for him it doesn't matter. Logan was always the type of person who could drink at any time of day, or night. That thought makes me smile. The Logan I know is the same way, exactly the same...almost. It's funny how he barely changes, not just physically either. The only difference is the eyes. My Logan's eyes aren't sad and lonely, they're happy, fulfilled, full of life.
I'm sitting here, watching Logan as I sip at a glass of water. He gets his beer, and then turns. His eyes search the shadows, the corner booths. He's looking for me, I know it. Once his gaze shifts to the shadows, he spots me, spots me looking right at him. I don't even bother to look away. He winks, then turns back to his beer.
I close my eyes and lean back in the seat with a heavy sigh. I only wish I could talk to him, I will, just not yet. There will be that time, the right time...and it's coming sooner than I think.
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Two beers, and one more glass of water for me later, I lean forward against the table and watch as Logan pays his bill.
I didn't expect it, although, this time I should have. It started off as any other day at the diner where I'd watch him. Logan sits down, orders a few beers, sometimes a burger, then pays his bill to the waitress, leaving a large tip, and leaves.
This time, he doesn't leave. I huddle against the wall, looking away and staring into my glass of water. He's coming towards me, I can feel it. I hear the clanking of heavy footsteps come closer, and closer, until I see him standing beside my table out of the corner of my eye.
Logan stares at me, but still, I don't look up, that is...until he speaks. "Hey kid."
I grimace, looking up and biting my lip. "Hi."
He makes an odd face, staring into my eyes like he's searching for something. Logan cocks his head to the side and smiles at me. "I know you from somewhere?"
I smile to myself, but I don't show it. All I really wanted to do was tell him, right then and there, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Everything would be ruined. "Yeah, you know me. From somewhere, some...time." I nod, and I can tell he's confused. Who wouldn't be? What I just said was kinda creepy.
He nods back in responce, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets. He starts to turn away, until I stop him.
"Hey wait." I hold my breath, until he turns around and looks at me. He doesn't say anything, so I reach into my trench coat pocket and pull out a letter. I hand him the letter, and he takes it, still looking confused. He looks at the numbers, the dates on the envelope, but doesn't open it, it's like he actually understands now. "Don't open it until that date ok?"
Logan grunts, sticking the letter into his back pocket. He nods and turns away again, walking out the door and leaving the diner.
The date on the letter is the exact date and time I was born. Also, the day my mother died. She was killed by a truck, leaving the hospital. The letter is a warning. My name is Saila Grey, I'm 17 years old, and in this time, not yet born, not even a thought in my parent's minds. The man that just left the diner, Logan, he is my father.
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*end*
A/N: This is somewhat AU, and would take place sort-of in my 'A Single Tear Drop' timeline. It's even really AU for that so...anyways, on with the story.
---------------
Sad Eyes
---------------
Sad eyes. That's what I saw when I looked at him. As I sat all alone in the corner booth of some tiny train car diner, I merely watched the man known as Logan. I'd been watching him for a few days now, ever since he started staying at the hotel up the street. This is where I was told to find him. I'm not surprised. He always did hang around places like this. Either some little diner or a seedy bar. For my own sake, I'm glad this time it's not the latter.
I huddled in the shadows at my table, wearing a long, well-worn trench coat. I had to dress casually, not like my normal clothes from my own time. That would draw too much attention. And what I didn't need right now was attention. Most people wouldn't even pay me any mind, probably figured I was a runaway just hanging out for some shelter for a little while.
I watched Logan carefully, trying to gather information from his posture, his body language. I dare not approach the man, I didn't want to screw things up. Not this time, there was a life at stake. For my own purposes, I won't say whose life right now, but this person is someone I barely know...I never even got the chance.
Logan probably knew I'd been watching him. That didn't surprise me. I'd be dead right now if he thought I was a threat though. Maybe, or I'm just biding my time until he's ready. He had to have known there was something odd about me. He's looked my way a few times, atleast once for every day he's seen me here; and I *know* he's seen me.
Like I said before, what I saw when I looked at him, every time, was those sad blue eyes. I think he keeps glancing my way because he knows. Well, he probably doesn't *really* know, but he knows something. Maybe he recognizes me, or I remind him of someone. I should. My own eyes give it away. They're green, a bright mesmerizing green that he knows only too well.
The green eyes I have belong to a person whom he's loved for a long time. Logan just thinks he'll never get the chance with her. He will though, he just doesn't know it yet.
He orders a beer from the waitress, and she obliges. It's a little too early for beer, in my opinion, but for him it doesn't matter. Logan was always the type of person who could drink at any time of day, or night. That thought makes me smile. The Logan I know is the same way, exactly the same...almost. It's funny how he barely changes, not just physically either. The only difference is the eyes. My Logan's eyes aren't sad and lonely, they're happy, fulfilled, full of life.
I'm sitting here, watching Logan as I sip at a glass of water. He gets his beer, and then turns. His eyes search the shadows, the corner booths. He's looking for me, I know it. Once his gaze shifts to the shadows, he spots me, spots me looking right at him. I don't even bother to look away. He winks, then turns back to his beer.
I close my eyes and lean back in the seat with a heavy sigh. I only wish I could talk to him, I will, just not yet. There will be that time, the right time...and it's coming sooner than I think.
---------------
Two beers, and one more glass of water for me later, I lean forward against the table and watch as Logan pays his bill.
I didn't expect it, although, this time I should have. It started off as any other day at the diner where I'd watch him. Logan sits down, orders a few beers, sometimes a burger, then pays his bill to the waitress, leaving a large tip, and leaves.
This time, he doesn't leave. I huddle against the wall, looking away and staring into my glass of water. He's coming towards me, I can feel it. I hear the clanking of heavy footsteps come closer, and closer, until I see him standing beside my table out of the corner of my eye.
Logan stares at me, but still, I don't look up, that is...until he speaks. "Hey kid."
I grimace, looking up and biting my lip. "Hi."
He makes an odd face, staring into my eyes like he's searching for something. Logan cocks his head to the side and smiles at me. "I know you from somewhere?"
I smile to myself, but I don't show it. All I really wanted to do was tell him, right then and there, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Everything would be ruined. "Yeah, you know me. From somewhere, some...time." I nod, and I can tell he's confused. Who wouldn't be? What I just said was kinda creepy.
He nods back in responce, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets. He starts to turn away, until I stop him.
"Hey wait." I hold my breath, until he turns around and looks at me. He doesn't say anything, so I reach into my trench coat pocket and pull out a letter. I hand him the letter, and he takes it, still looking confused. He looks at the numbers, the dates on the envelope, but doesn't open it, it's like he actually understands now. "Don't open it until that date ok?"
Logan grunts, sticking the letter into his back pocket. He nods and turns away again, walking out the door and leaving the diner.
The date on the letter is the exact date and time I was born. Also, the day my mother died. She was killed by a truck, leaving the hospital. The letter is a warning. My name is Saila Grey, I'm 17 years old, and in this time, not yet born, not even a thought in my parent's minds. The man that just left the diner, Logan, he is my father.
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*end*