A/N: Thanks for reviewin' chapter 5 for me Trunksblue! ::grins::
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The Train Station chp.6
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Logan wearily opened his eyes, his mind still a little foggy from his fever. He tilted his head to his left, noticing that his arm was soaked and there was a wet towel draped over his shoulder. He vaguely remembered Jean putting ice on his arm, and figured it must have melted, and that's why his arm was dripping wet. Logan groaned, sitting up slowly. He looked around for Jean, just noticing her fast asleep on the other side of the bed. He smiled to himself, standing up and taking the wet cloth off his shoulder.
He tried to let his arm just hang by his side, since it wasn't wrapped anymore, but it hurt too much so he just grabbed onto his shoulder and tried not to let his arm swing much. Logan noticed the uneaten sandwich on the little coffee table near the t.v., an amused smile playing on his lips. It felt so odd to have someone caring for him, normally he'd just be on his own to fend for himself. This Jean woman was really something else. He sat down in the chair beside the table and just stared at the sandwich. He thought about eating it, but didn't think his stomach would be able to handle much at the moment, and his fever was still really getting to him.
Jean started to wake, looking at the clock and blearily glancing around the room. She yawned and sat up slowly, shaking her head. "Oh, nearly five? I can't believe I slept that long." she mumbled mostly to herself.
"You were tired." Logan muttered from his chair, watching as she got up.
Jean's eyes darted towards him, surprised that he was up. She furrowed her brows as she looked at him. His face was pale, eyes bloodshot and droopy, and sweat on his brow. "God, you look awful." she gasped with a frown.
Logan smirked lazily, slumping further into the uncomfortable chair. "Thanks." he grumbled lowly. He watched her look around the room and try to smooth out her crumpled clothes. He raised his head and glanced at the door. "We should get outta here soon. They're gonna realize the credit's a fake."
Jean sighed, another tired yawn escaping her lips. "Where are we anyway?"
"Buffalo, New York." Logan mumbled his reply effortlessly.
Jean scratched the back of her head. "I have an idea." she watched Logan tiredly stare at her, awaiting to be enlightened by her thought. "My best friend has an appartment in the city. We can stay there, rest, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind lending us a little money."
"I dunno..." Logan started to say, but Jean interrupted him.
"Besides, Creed doesn't know who I am, only you. He wouldn't think to look at my friend's place or try and look for my family or anything. I was heading there anyway to bunk down and escape my ex husband before I could find something more permanent."
Logan frowned for a moment, remembering how she had said her ex beat her up, obvious from the bruising on her cheek. He clenched his fist for a moment and sighed. "Ahright, but we better take a cab. There's probably an APB out already on the Caddy we jacked."
Jean nodded and went to help Logan up without him asking. It was obvious he needed her help, but if his pride was getting in the way of him asking, she wasn't going to let him further subject himself to more discomfort.
She called for a cab, and the two headed out of the room quickly, able to do so since they hadn't had anything with them in the first place.
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Once they were in the cab, Jean suddenly realized Logan didn't have a shirt. She bit her lower lip, glancing at the driver who didn't seem to be paying much attention to his strange passengers. She sighed, watching Logan clench his teeth and clutch at his left arm every time they went over a big bump in the road. "Oh, I forgot the ace wrap for your arm..." Jean muttered angrily at herself.
"It's okay." Logan said quietly, clenching his eyes shut and looking like he was desperately trying to relax.
Jean leaned closer to him as she thought of something important. "Logan, we don't have any cash to pay the cabby." she whispered.
He just grunted in reply for a moment, then sighed. He leaned towards Jean and pulled something from his right pocket. It was a wallet.
Jean looked surprised. "I thought you didn't have any cash?"
"I didn't." he replied roughly. "I snatched it from a passing Bellboy while we were leavin' the hotel."
Jean could've sworn she saw Logan smirk. She rolled her eyes, then shrugged. "Well, we're just trying to survive right?" she offered, trying to justify their thieving behavior.
He nodded, gripping his shoulder again and handing Jean the wallet. Logan hoped they'd get to their destination soon, he didn't know how much more of the driving he could take before he either puked or passed out from the pain in his shoulder at every turn and bump in the road.
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Jean and Logan tiredly entered the apartment building after paying the cab driver's hefty fee. Realizing it was nearly 10 p.m., Jean wondered if her friend was even home, or out partying like she did occasionally. She guided Logan to the elevator, noticing as he seemed to be getting increasingly weaker. "Did you eat that sandwich I left you back at the hotel room?"
Logan looked up from Jean's sudden question, watching her press the elevator button for the third floor. "No, didn't feel up to it." he told her, hoping she wouldn't grill him on the subject.
Jean frowned, beginning to tap her feet anxiously. "You haven't eaten since when? Like...before the train?"
Logan nodded slowly with a slight one shouldered shrug, not really putting much thought into it. That seemed about right.
Jean started helping him out of the elevator quickly, once they'd reached their destined floor. She passed a few doors, then stopped at apartment 218.
Logan sighed, feeling stupid for the treatment he was getting. Here he was, this big tough guy, being taken care of by some doctor that he'd met on a train and gotten mixed up in his twisted life. He leaned against the wall beside the door as Jean knocked, hesitantly at first.
A few seconds later the door swung open. "Jean!" the woman from inside exclaimed. "I was wondering when you would show up, I was worried!"
"Ororo, I wanted to call you!" Jean embraced her friend, then smiled and looked down at her ragged appearance.
"What...happened to you?" Ororo noticed Jean's rumpled clothes, dirty and worn, and the tired look on her face.
Logan still leaned against the wall near the door, unnoticed by Jean's friend, and uninterested in much besides keeping himself standing at the moment.
"Oh..." Jean said slowly. "I...need your help 'Ro. Well...*we* need your help." she told her quietly.
"Who's 'we'?" Ororo questioned, her delicate brows furrowed.
Jean stepped back, motioning towards Logan. "Ororo, this is Logan."
Ororo's eyes were wide as she gasped at the sight of him. "Oh Goddess what happened to you?!" she looked at Jean, then moved towards Logan and immediately began to help him inside, showing no fear towards the rough-looking man. "Come on inside, both of you."
"We've definetly had a rough...well...what has it been? Almost 48 hours I think..." Jean smiled as she entered the apartment. Ororo was always a compasionate and enthusiastic person. Definetly the kind to take in a stray dog or two, though surprisingly she had none. They would be safe with her, and probably pampered to death too.
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The Train Station chp.6
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Logan wearily opened his eyes, his mind still a little foggy from his fever. He tilted his head to his left, noticing that his arm was soaked and there was a wet towel draped over his shoulder. He vaguely remembered Jean putting ice on his arm, and figured it must have melted, and that's why his arm was dripping wet. Logan groaned, sitting up slowly. He looked around for Jean, just noticing her fast asleep on the other side of the bed. He smiled to himself, standing up and taking the wet cloth off his shoulder.
He tried to let his arm just hang by his side, since it wasn't wrapped anymore, but it hurt too much so he just grabbed onto his shoulder and tried not to let his arm swing much. Logan noticed the uneaten sandwich on the little coffee table near the t.v., an amused smile playing on his lips. It felt so odd to have someone caring for him, normally he'd just be on his own to fend for himself. This Jean woman was really something else. He sat down in the chair beside the table and just stared at the sandwich. He thought about eating it, but didn't think his stomach would be able to handle much at the moment, and his fever was still really getting to him.
Jean started to wake, looking at the clock and blearily glancing around the room. She yawned and sat up slowly, shaking her head. "Oh, nearly five? I can't believe I slept that long." she mumbled mostly to herself.
"You were tired." Logan muttered from his chair, watching as she got up.
Jean's eyes darted towards him, surprised that he was up. She furrowed her brows as she looked at him. His face was pale, eyes bloodshot and droopy, and sweat on his brow. "God, you look awful." she gasped with a frown.
Logan smirked lazily, slumping further into the uncomfortable chair. "Thanks." he grumbled lowly. He watched her look around the room and try to smooth out her crumpled clothes. He raised his head and glanced at the door. "We should get outta here soon. They're gonna realize the credit's a fake."
Jean sighed, another tired yawn escaping her lips. "Where are we anyway?"
"Buffalo, New York." Logan mumbled his reply effortlessly.
Jean scratched the back of her head. "I have an idea." she watched Logan tiredly stare at her, awaiting to be enlightened by her thought. "My best friend has an appartment in the city. We can stay there, rest, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind lending us a little money."
"I dunno..." Logan started to say, but Jean interrupted him.
"Besides, Creed doesn't know who I am, only you. He wouldn't think to look at my friend's place or try and look for my family or anything. I was heading there anyway to bunk down and escape my ex husband before I could find something more permanent."
Logan frowned for a moment, remembering how she had said her ex beat her up, obvious from the bruising on her cheek. He clenched his fist for a moment and sighed. "Ahright, but we better take a cab. There's probably an APB out already on the Caddy we jacked."
Jean nodded and went to help Logan up without him asking. It was obvious he needed her help, but if his pride was getting in the way of him asking, she wasn't going to let him further subject himself to more discomfort.
She called for a cab, and the two headed out of the room quickly, able to do so since they hadn't had anything with them in the first place.
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Once they were in the cab, Jean suddenly realized Logan didn't have a shirt. She bit her lower lip, glancing at the driver who didn't seem to be paying much attention to his strange passengers. She sighed, watching Logan clench his teeth and clutch at his left arm every time they went over a big bump in the road. "Oh, I forgot the ace wrap for your arm..." Jean muttered angrily at herself.
"It's okay." Logan said quietly, clenching his eyes shut and looking like he was desperately trying to relax.
Jean leaned closer to him as she thought of something important. "Logan, we don't have any cash to pay the cabby." she whispered.
He just grunted in reply for a moment, then sighed. He leaned towards Jean and pulled something from his right pocket. It was a wallet.
Jean looked surprised. "I thought you didn't have any cash?"
"I didn't." he replied roughly. "I snatched it from a passing Bellboy while we were leavin' the hotel."
Jean could've sworn she saw Logan smirk. She rolled her eyes, then shrugged. "Well, we're just trying to survive right?" she offered, trying to justify their thieving behavior.
He nodded, gripping his shoulder again and handing Jean the wallet. Logan hoped they'd get to their destination soon, he didn't know how much more of the driving he could take before he either puked or passed out from the pain in his shoulder at every turn and bump in the road.
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Jean and Logan tiredly entered the apartment building after paying the cab driver's hefty fee. Realizing it was nearly 10 p.m., Jean wondered if her friend was even home, or out partying like she did occasionally. She guided Logan to the elevator, noticing as he seemed to be getting increasingly weaker. "Did you eat that sandwich I left you back at the hotel room?"
Logan looked up from Jean's sudden question, watching her press the elevator button for the third floor. "No, didn't feel up to it." he told her, hoping she wouldn't grill him on the subject.
Jean frowned, beginning to tap her feet anxiously. "You haven't eaten since when? Like...before the train?"
Logan nodded slowly with a slight one shouldered shrug, not really putting much thought into it. That seemed about right.
Jean started helping him out of the elevator quickly, once they'd reached their destined floor. She passed a few doors, then stopped at apartment 218.
Logan sighed, feeling stupid for the treatment he was getting. Here he was, this big tough guy, being taken care of by some doctor that he'd met on a train and gotten mixed up in his twisted life. He leaned against the wall beside the door as Jean knocked, hesitantly at first.
A few seconds later the door swung open. "Jean!" the woman from inside exclaimed. "I was wondering when you would show up, I was worried!"
"Ororo, I wanted to call you!" Jean embraced her friend, then smiled and looked down at her ragged appearance.
"What...happened to you?" Ororo noticed Jean's rumpled clothes, dirty and worn, and the tired look on her face.
Logan still leaned against the wall near the door, unnoticed by Jean's friend, and uninterested in much besides keeping himself standing at the moment.
"Oh..." Jean said slowly. "I...need your help 'Ro. Well...*we* need your help." she told her quietly.
"Who's 'we'?" Ororo questioned, her delicate brows furrowed.
Jean stepped back, motioning towards Logan. "Ororo, this is Logan."
Ororo's eyes were wide as she gasped at the sight of him. "Oh Goddess what happened to you?!" she looked at Jean, then moved towards Logan and immediately began to help him inside, showing no fear towards the rough-looking man. "Come on inside, both of you."
"We've definetly had a rough...well...what has it been? Almost 48 hours I think..." Jean smiled as she entered the apartment. Ororo was always a compasionate and enthusiastic person. Definetly the kind to take in a stray dog or two, though surprisingly she had none. They would be safe with her, and probably pampered to death too.
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