All Previous Disclaimers Apply
A/N: I had a hard time with this for a while. I'd made Jean and Logan a bigger deal than I wanted them to be and the story just wasn't coming. It's in a better spot now, so a short chapter to resolve Jean and Logan tension and then back to the main event. I really don't like Jean Grey, if you weren't able to tell previously. If you do like her, I apologize. This chapter is not favorable to her character. Thank you to anyone still willing to read this. :)
Logan wasn't sure what brought him out of his dreams, but he was awake before his senses could catch up to his state of consciousness. It took him a moment to calm the racing of his heart, brought on by whatever it was that tore him out of sleep. When he finally stopped breathing and started scenting and listening he realized exactly what it was that woke him and he turned immediately to take Steve in his arms. His lover was holding himself as stiff as a board, all of his muscles taunt and strained, the only movement at all in his body the fine tremors that ran through it every other second or so. He was barely breathing, taking in barely enough breath to lift his chest in panicked little gasps that coincided with his tremors. His skin was cold as ice as Logan wrapped himself around him, his chest to Steve's back, and rubbed his hands up and down Steve's chest, trying to bring some semblance of warmth back to his lover's body to bring him out of his nightmare. Steve had had the same nightmare multiple times since he'd come back to Logan, but as they settled back into their relationship, as they worked on coming to know and love each other as they were and forgiving each other for long held resentments without merit, the nightmares were farther and farther between. Since they'd finally admitted that they needed help and allowed themselves to seek out that help Steve hadn't had a single one. Logan should have known that it was too good to last.
"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, placing a kiss to the back of Steve's neck, "Come back to me now. I'm right here, Steve. Right here in New York. We're at the mansion where you teach. You don't fight anymore, sweetheart. You haven't had to fight for a long time. You're home, sweetheart. Not in the ice any more. You're with me. Come back to me now."
He kept up the gentle murmurs, rubbing warmth back into Steve's skin, and pressing gentle kisses to the back of his neck, his cheek, his temple and waited for them to start having an effect on his lover. It took what felt like forever before his words started to reach Steve, but Logan could tell when they did. He finally started to take some deeper breaths, matching his breathing to Logan's. Then, the shivers tremors became more pronounced for a time before they finally tapered off completely. Finally Logan felt tentative hands cover his own as Steve hugged his arms close to his chest. Logan knew that Steve was crying softly as he kept up his string of nonsense comforts, but he didn't stop. After his brain made him think his worst nightmare had come true again he couldn't begrudge Steve the need to release the emotion, both good and bad, as he worked on releasing his muscles one by one. It was a long, painful process and Logan held him through it.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" He asked after nearly an hour, when he knew Steve was as relaxed as he'd get before Logan massaged the remaining tension out of his body as he always did after an episode like this.
"I'm okay," Steve whispered, then again like he was trying to convince himself, "I'm okay."
"Will you be okay alone for a few minutes while I go heat up some massage oil?"
Steve made a noise from the back of his throat somewhere between a hum and a sob and briefly held Logan's arms to him tighter. Then, released them completely with a small nod. Logan pressed another kiss to his temple, pulled their blanket up to Steve's neck and slipped out of the bed. He pulled on a pair of flannel bottoms he'd carelessly thrown to the side of the bed before they slept and grabbed the extra blanket they kept on the window seat for exactly this purpose before going around the bed and spreading it over Steve. He stepped into their bathroom for a moment to grab their massage oil and then knelt by the bed at Steve's head for a moment. His lover was still looking a little panicked, eyes wide and face pale, but he smiled bravely when Logan ran a hand through his hair and down his cheek. Logan smiled when he caught the hand in his own and pressed a kiss to it.
"I'll be okay for a couple of minutes," Steve assured him, "Could you…could you put on some music?"
"Sure, sweetheart." He turned on Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake as he went out, knowing that after these nightmares Steve needed the comfort of the familiar. His mother had had a recording of selections from Swan Lake that she played on their phonograph when she was happy and hearing it helped Steve remember the happy times with her. Steve gave him a tremulous, but more real smile when he turned back to check on him one more time. He smiled back and made his way down the stairs and toward the kitchen.
He sighed heavily when he caught the only scent he really didn't want to deal with in the middle of the night when his Steve was at his most vulnerable and he at his most primal and protective and pushed the kitchen door open. Jean was seated at the table in a nightgown that left nothing to the imagination sipping a mug of tea. Her hair was in disarray and even without make-up she was still one of the most stunning women he'd ever seen. He knew that in the most high level way Jean was a good person. She truly believed in the Prof's dream of peace between humans and mutants and would fight to make it come true, even give her life to the cause if need be. But, on a personal level she was just as fucked up as the rest of them and part of her screwed up psyche was a pathological need to have Logan want her. Since Steve had been back in his life she'd been doing little things to try to bring his attention back to her, touching him more often, making little remarks meant to tear Steve down in his eyes. She was never openly hostile to Steve, but in the year and half he'd been there she'd never openly welcomed him either. He'd thought maybe it would change when she married Scott nine months previous, but t hadn't. She was still trying to bring his attention back to her. He'd tried to let her down gently for the good of the team, so as not to cause tension when they all needed to trust each other implicitly in the field. When that hadn't worked he'd taken to making sure they were never in the same room alone for any amount of time. And now they were the only ones in the room, it was the middle of the night, and they were both half dressed. He moved to the microwave as quickly as he could and stuck the bottle in to warm, unsurprised when he turned back and found Jean just behind him, leaning against the kitchen island, her breasts thrust forward unconsciously, he was sure, when she was trying to be openly sexual it was more obvious.
"Jean," he nodded to her curtly.
"Logan," she said in return, a smile quirking at the corner of her mouth, "He had another nightmare?"
"First in months," Logan nodded and answered shortly.
"Hmm," She shook her head as if she just couldn't believe it and took a couple of steps toward him, "You know…"
"Save it, Jean," he was done putting up with her immature antics just to keep peace on the team.
"What?" She stepped back as if he'd slapped her and he rolled his eyes at her dramatics.
"Save it," he repeated, "I'm done with all of your bullshit. I love Steve. If you were any kind of friend you'd be happy for me that I got the love of my life back. And the man is a Goddamn war hero. He saw what needed to be done and he fucking did it! When he didn't have the power to do it he found a way to get it. You don't have to like him. You don't have to like that I'm always going to want him over you, but you better start respecting him, Goddamn it, and respecting me. We're done, Jean. You decided you wanted Scott more and, truthfully, even without Steve in the picture he's always going to love you more than I ever could have. So, go back to your husband, Jean. Leave me the fuck alone and let me get back to mine."
Her face was almost as red as her hair and he didn't have to be a telepath to read the embarrassed anger on her face at being called on her behavior. She opened her mouth to say something and he cut her off again with a growl, "He's my fucking husband, Jean. Just because we haven't had the ceremony does make one fucking difference."
He grabbed the massage oil out of the microwave and stomped his way back up the stairs feeling, at once, angry and settled. He was angry that it'd had to come to him confronting her before she would stop, but he was confident that now she would. He paused before the door to his room and took a couple of deep breaths before he stepped back in. Steve needed him to be calm now. Steve needed his comfort, not his anger. When he felt like Steve wouldn't pick up anger from him he stepped back into the room, lit softly by moonlight. In his absence Steve had started to tense again, Logan could see it in the way he was laying, but he wasn't panicking again and that was good. He was humming along to Swan Lake, his eyes closed tightly. Logan turned up the thermostat in their room and made his way over to the bed. Steve took in a gasping breath when Logan gently removed the blankets from the bed. He turned over at Logan's prompting and sighed when Logan began to massage the heated oil into his still cooler than normal skin. As Logan began to work the warm oil into his large muscle groups he finally relaxed completely and his skin warmed and flushed again. When he'd massaged Steve from head to toe and his lover was completely relaxed he helped him drink down a cup of cool water. Then he laid down and covered them both with the blanket. As was normal for these episodes Steve was finally so relaxed that he was barely awake and curled into Logan trustingly. Logan wrapped him in his arms again and rested Steve's head against his heart.
"Love you," Steve slurred as he was falling back asleep.
"I love you, too." Logan murmured. He held Steve close and hummed along with Swan Lake, content that he had taken care of the man the primal side of him had taken as mate and the more human side of him knew he would take as husband some day soon. Knowing he had taken care of Steve was enough to relax him in turn and let him slip into a contented doze as the sun came up.