The X-Mansion was shrouded in an eerie silence, broken only by the distant echoes of the storm raging outside. Lightning briefly illuminated the long, dark hallways, casting twisted shadows on the walls. Ororo Munroe stood in the main hall, feeling every pulse of the storm within her own body. The wind that had always responded to her will now roared uncontrollably, reflecting the unrest stirring within her.
She had awakened from a disturbing dream, her heart racing, certain that something was not right. She felt it in the air, in the whispers of the wind that spoke to her of pain and rage. Logan. She needed nothing more than instinct to know that he was in the Danger Room, unleashing his fury the only way he knew how, facing invisible demons that were eating him up from within.
Barefoot, her light robe billowing behind her, Ororo descended the marble stairs like a shadow, each step firmer than the last. Her long white hair fell in soft cascades over her shoulders, and her blue eyes shone with deep concern. As she approached the door to the Danger Room, a crash from within echoed so loudly that her heart clenched.
The sound of claws against metal. The roar of a man who had stopped fighting the outside world and was now facing himself.
The door swung open with a mechanical hiss, revealing the chaos within. The Danger Room was in Extreme mode, simulating an apocalyptic battlefield. Holograms of ferocious enemies surrounded Logan, but they were nothing more than reflections of his own rage. He stood at the center of the storm, his torso bare and covered in scars. Every muscle in his body seemed carved from stone, strained to the limit by the pent-up rage that exploded with every blow he delivered. His claws, extended to their full length, ripped through the air with brutality, leaving trails of light in their wake.
Logan was pure fury unleashed, a wounded beast that knew no outlet but violence.
Ororo watched him silently, pain tightening her chest. Seeing him like this, consumed by his own suffering, tore at her insides. The Logan she knew, the man she loved, was lost in this storm of pain, unable to find his way back.
With a gentle movement of her hand, she deactivated the simulation. The holograms disappeared in an instant, but Logan was still striking, fighting unseen enemies. He was so immersed in his fury that he didn't realize the battle was over.
"Logan," she said in a soft, yet emotion-laden voice. The sound of his name on Ororo's lips was like a balm, cutting through the fog of his anger.
Logan stopped, his fists still raised in the air, shaking with tension. Slowly, his breathing became audible, a deep, desperate gasp that filled the empty space of the room. His eyes, dark and filled with pain, searched for the source of the voice. When he saw it, his posture collapsed slightly, but not enough.
"What are you doing here?" His tone was harsh, almost a growl, as if the words themselves were a titanic effort.
Ororo stepped forward, robe billowing softly around her like an ethereal cloak. Her eyes shone with a mix of compassion and anguish, as deep as the sky she used to rule. "I should be the one asking you that question, Logan. It's two in the morning, and you're tearing yourself apart in this room as if fighting your demons is the only option."
Logan looked away, his knuckles still white from the tension of his clenched fists. "This is what I do. When all else fails… when there's nothing else to do." His voice cracked for a second, but he quickly composed himself. "This is the only thing that works."
Ororo felt a pang in her heart. She knew Logan carried more weight than any man should, but seeing him like this, so defeated by his own fears, was unbearable. "Does it work? Destroy yourself further until there's nothing left? Logan, you're not just rage and pain. You're more than that."
He let out a bitter laugh, a dark laugh that echoed in the empty room. "More? You don't understand, Ororo. You would never understand. You control everything. I control nothing. Not even myself." His claws still gleamed in the light, a constant reminder of what he believed himself to be: a weapon, a monster.
Ororo stepped closer, her voice now filled with a calm strength that defied the storm that continued to rage outside. "It's not about control, Logan. It's about accepting yourself. Stopping fighting yourself. Because as long as you keep doing that, you'll always lose."
Logan's eyes shot up, fury and vulnerability. "And what should I accept? That I'm a fucking animal? That I destroy everything I touch?" His words were a silent scream, a plea for redemption he didn't even know he sought.
Ororo reached out her hand gently, brushing Logan's cheek with fingers cool from the breeze that surrounded her. Her touch was light, almost imperceptible, but it had the power to calm the stormy soul that lived within him. "I see the man behind the claws, Logan. You are not just what was made of you. You are who you choose to be, and what I see is so much more than anger and pain. I see someone who, despite everything, continues to fight to be something more, to be loved."
The mere touch of her fingers on his skin made Logan's muscles tense in a different way. It wasn't the kind of tension that drove him to fight, but something much more intimate, deeper. It was the kind of tension that was born from the fear of being vulnerable, of letting someone in where he had always kept the doors closed. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he wanted to pull away, to escape the comfort Ororo offered him, because accepting her touch meant accepting everything she saw in him.
"I don't want to hurt you," he murmured, his voice cracked, almost a whisper. "It's the only thing I'm good at, Ororo. Hurting, breaking things... people."
Ororo leaned closer, not letting his hand leave her cheek. Her eyes shone with a mix of pain and love. "Logan, we all have scars. Some you see, some you don't. But you don't have to fight yours alone. I don't care how many battles you've fought, or how many wounds you carry with you. I'm here for you. To hold you when you can't take it anymore."
Logan closed his eyes, letting out a sigh that seemed to contain years of accumulated suffering. The weight of his life, of his mistakes, of his demons, was something he had always carried alone. And now, in front of Ororo, he realized what he feared most: the possibility that someone could see him completely and still stay by his side.
"What if I hurt you?" he asked, his voice so low it was barely a whisper among the roar of the storm. "What if one day I lose myself again and hurt you?"
Ororo smiled softly, but it was a smile full of strength and determination. "I trust you, Logan. I trust that when that time comes, you will not be alone. I will be here, always, to bring you back. I have done it before. I will do it again."
Logan opened his eyes and met Ororo's, and in that moment, something inside him broke, but not in the way he was used to. It wasn't the kind of breakup that left scars, but a release, an opening to the possibility that pain didn't have to be his only reality.
Without another word, Logan let his claws slowly retract, the clanking of his bones falling back into place echoing softly in the empty room. His breathing was still heavy, but no longer filled with fury. Ororo kept her hand on his cheek, her fingers now brushing the bare skin where the shadows of despair had once been.
"Why are you still here?" Logan finally asked, his voice heavy with disbelief. "Why won't you just leave? I… I'm no good for you, Ororo."
Ororo looked at him with an intensity that completely disarmed him. "Because it's not about what you believe, Logan. It's about what I know. And I know that, despite everything you think of yourself, you are a man who deserves to be loved. You are more than you know."
The silence that followed was deep, filled with everything they had never said, but had always known. Logan, his fists still clenched, felt the warmth of Ororo's words slipping through him, like a balm soothing the deepest wounds. He had never let anyone see him like this, broken and naked in his despair, and yet she was still there, seeing all of him.
Finally, Logan raised his hand and, with a gentleness he didn't think possible in himself, covered Ororo's hand that was still on his face. "I don't know if I can be that man, Ro. I don't know if I can ever be what you deserve."
Ororo took a step closer, and this time it was she who let herself be carried away by the storm of emotions that stirred between them. She leaned into him, letting her forehead rest against Logan's. The electricity in the air crackled between them, but it wasn't the storm outside that controlled it, but the strength of what they both felt.
I'm not asking you to be perfect, Logan. I'm just asking you not to give up. Because I won't."
The weight of her words echoed in the space between them, as powerful as the storm raging beyond the walls of the Danger Room. Logan closed his eyes again, but this time it wasn't to escape. It was to accept. To allow, for the first time in a long time, someone to see the man behind the beast.
Without another word, Logan slid his hand behind Ororo's head, drawing her to him in a gesture that wasn't one of possession, but of surrender. Their lips met in a kiss that wasn't just physical, but a silent promise: to not give up, to keep fighting, to find comfort amidst the chaos.
As they broke apart, the storm outside began to subside. The clouds, once swirling in fury, now slowly dispersed, like the pain that had so long oppressed Logan.
"I'll always be here," Ororo whispered, her breath warm against Logan's lips.
And for the first time, For a long time, Logan believed those words.
