Chapter Eight: Fractures and Bonds
The morning came reluctantly, the sky overcast and heavy with the remnants of the storm. Rogue's breath fogged the windowpane as she stared out at the snow-dusted grounds. She'd barely slept, her thoughts an endless loop of the night before—the cold, the danger, Liam's trembling hands clinging to hers. And Logan. Always Logan.
A knock at the door startled her from her thoughts. She turned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Come in."
The door creaked open, and Logan stepped inside, his rugged frame filling the small space. He held two mugs, steam curling from the tops. "Figured you could use some coffee," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.
Rogue managed a small smile as she took one of the mugs. "Thanks. You didn't sleep either, huh?"
Logan shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Didn't feel like it. Too much on my mind."
She took a sip, the warmth spreading through her chest. "Liam seemed better this morning. Ororo's keeping an eye on him."
Logan nodded, his gaze steady on her. "Good. Kid's tough. He'll be all right."
They lapsed into silence, the quiet not uncomfortable but laden with unspoken words. Finally, Rogue set her mug on the windowsill and turned to face him fully.
"Last night," she began, her voice hesitant. "I thought… for a second, I thought we weren't going to make it. That Sentinel… it was too fast, too strong. If you hadn't been there…"
Logan cut her off with a shake of his head. "Don't. Don't go there." His voice was firm, but there was a softness in his eyes. "You held your own, Rogue. You always do."
"But it's not just me anymore," she pressed. "Liam was counting on us. And I was scared, Logan. I don't think I've ever been that scared."
Logan's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "You think I wasn't? Every second, I was thinkin' about what'd happen if I screwed up. But that's the gig, Rogue. We're always one bad step away from losin' everything."
She looked at him, her green eyes searching his face. "And how do you deal with that? With… all of it?"
He hesitated, the lines on his face deepening as he stared down at his boots. "I don't know. I just keep goin'. Fightin'. Protectin' the people I care about."
The air between them grew heavier, charged with something neither of them wanted to name. Rogue took a step closer, her voice quieter now. "You mean that? That you care?"
Logan looked up, his dark eyes meeting hers. There was no hesitation this time. "Yeah. I care. About you. About what happens to you."
Her breath caught, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the walls pressing in as the distance between them vanished. She wanted to reach out, to close the space entirely, but she hesitated, her gloved hands curling into fists at her sides.
"Logan…" she began, but the words faltered. What could she say that wouldn't ruin this fragile moment?
He took a step closer, his voice low and steady. "You don't gotta say anything. Just… know I'm here. Whatever happens, I'm not goin' anywhere."
A faint smile tugged at her lips, and she nodded. "Same here."
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause, the storm outside forgotten as they stood there, caught in an unspoken understanding. Then Logan stepped back, breaking the spell.
"We should get downstairs," he said, his tone more businesslike now. "Charles wanted to talk strategy."
Rogue nodded, picking up her mug again. "Yeah. Let's go."
As they left the room, their steps falling into an easy rhythm, Rogue couldn't help but glance at him out of the corner of her eye. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew one thing for certain: whatever storm came next, she wouldn't be facing it alone.