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luna-writes-stuff · 2 years

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Day 8: Forever Winter, Logan Howlett

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Fanfic, fem!mutant(not specified)!Reader

Brief angst, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2632

Tw: Not proofread! Mention/description of concussions, descriptions of dizziness. References to combat. Mentions of loss (younger students). Self-blaming, drinking/alcohol. Use of painkillers (pills).

Summary: After a rough mission, you lost a handful of students. Trying to sleep off your concussion, Logan retreats to the kitchen, coping in his own ways. You encounter him late at night, and remember him that there is no need for him to deal with this alone.

“He says he doesn't believe anything much he hears these days He says, "Why fall in love, just so you can watch it go away?".”

The flight back to the mansion was quiet. It had been a difficult mission for the entire group. Only half of the people you’ve left with made it back on the plane. You kept telling yourself that the risks were made clear; it had been a dangerous mission and everyone knew it. Everyone who left agreed on the terms. This was their decision.

Yet, it hurt. You were lucky enough to make it back with just a handful of scratches and bruises. And a light concussion, but that was not what your mind was on at the moment.

As your eyes struggled to stay open, they remained trained on the man in front of you. He was staring at his lap, silent remorse laced within his features. Logan never did share his worries or concerns vocally. He suffered in silence. And where others wouldn’t notice, you did. You were one of the only ones. And each time you tried to comfort him, he would walk away.

“He spends most of his nights wishing it was how it used to be He spends most of his flights getting pulled down by gravity.”

As the plane landed with a light thud, he had stood up almost immediately, already making way to the door, even though the machines had yet to turn off. Though dizzy and tired, you followed him immediately. Logan had been your partner for two years now, and your closest friends several years before that; you were not to leave him alone at this time.

As you stumbled over to him, white spots took over momentarily, but after blinking at the floor twice, they lessened. A hand was placed upon your shoulder, gaining your interest. Looking up slowly, you tried to show him a reassuring smile.

“Don’t do stupid things.” Logan uttered, slowly retreating his hands as you regained your balance.

“Don’t steal my words.” You returned, holding onto Scott’s chair as the engines finally turned off.

Mere seconds later, the door opened, and Logan gently grabbed your arm. You would have wondered why he hadn’t run off yet, but you shook the thought off as sudden weightlessness took over.

Perhaps he had been right to escort you down the stairs at least.

“I call just checkin' up on him He's up, 3 AM pacin' He says, "It's not just a phase I'm in" My voice comes out beggin'.”

The second your body had hit your mattress, Logan had left again. You figured he would have, but it didn’t lessen the pain. Regardless of that, you had fallen asleep quite quickly, and quite easily. It wasn’t until two hours later that you would wake up.

For a school filled with teenagers, 3 AM was surprisingly quiet. No secret whispers, or rushed footsteps. Complete and utter silence. Yet, you could not bring yourself to fall back asleep.

Your head was still pounding, though less severe than before. Rising from your spot, you stretched your arms, hissing at the sore muscles.

You could really go for some good tea now.

“All this time I didn't know You were breakin' down I'd fall to pieces on the floor If you weren't around.”

Stumbling down the stairs gently, doing your best not to wake any students, you reached the ground floor. The light in the kitchen was still on, as it often was. Though the children did not barge into the kitchen quite often, the professor was still kind enough to leave something on for them.

And it was a guiding light for you in the darker hall. At the moment, it was only convenient for you.

As you sneaked into the room, you were relieved to find no one at the tables. You had just woken up from a difficult mission; you were not going to rant about it any time soon. Yet, your silent prayers went unheard as you turned towards the fridge, coming face to face with Logan, who was downing - what appeared to be - his third beer.

A startled yelp escaped you, your hand shooting towards your heart in reflex. The man merely stared at you, an amused smirk spreading across his face.

“That scary, huh?” He remarked.

You simply rolled your eyes at him, lowering your hands whilst you grabbed a bottle from the fridge.

“Terrifying.” You spoke sarcastically.

“Too young to know it gets better I'll be summer sun for you forever Forever winter if you go.”

As you seated yourself on one of the bar stools, you reached for the small box of medicines, snatching paracetamol from it. Logan sat down next to you, staring at your hands.

“Still in pain?” He offered, breaking the piece into two bits as you handed him the medicine.

“Unless the lights are offending your eyes as well, I figured one more wouldn’t hurt.”

Wordlessly, he nodded, now observing your movements. At first, you considered it to be because of your earlier scare to the group, but even from your focused looks on your glass, you knew something else was plaguing his mind. And you feared you knew exactly what that was.

Turning your head slightly, you gave him a smile. Hoping to somehow still soothe some of his worries. You knew your attempts would be futile, but you tried nonetheless. The only thing you got in return was a tight-lipped smile. Sighing at the smile, you set down your glass, now turning to face him completely.

“He seems fine most of the time, forcing smiles and neverminds His laugh is a symphony, when the lights go out, it's hard to breathe.”

“There was nothing you could have done, Logan.” You tried to offer in sympathy. The grin from his lips fell, and he was about to speak up. You stopped him before he could, holding up a hand to silently halt him.

“Don’t lie to me, please.”

And just like that, the words died on his lips. Sometimes you could curse yourself for knowing him so well. You ran a hand through your hair, your eyes falling upon your lap, before rising to meet his once more.

“Words will not make up for this loss, I know,” You began. “But they knew what they were running into. We all did. We knew the risks, and we were prepared to die for it. We should respect their wishes instead of pressing the matter further and further.” Your hand came to rest on top of him. A silent gesture of comfort. “We are not built for all that grief.”

“I pull at every thread, tryna solve the puzzles in his head Live my life scared to death he'll decide to leave instead.”

A moment of silence filled the air before Logan decided to speak up: “They were only kids. They weren’t ready.”

Frowning upon the words, you pulled your hand back, swallowing thickly. He was right; they were young. You hated that they decided to sit in that plane before it even took even. You remembered the arguments you had held with several student about the matter. You tried to get a couple to pull out, but your attempts remained futile.

You were blaming yourself before it had even happened. Logan always blamed himself after the blow. You understood his pain.

But no words could correct what happened, or even properly formulate the events.

Nights like these were the worst.

“I call just checkin' up on him He's up, 5 AM wasted Long gone, not even listening My voice comes out screamin'.”

“The second you got slammed into that wall, I should have pulled them out of there,” Logan went on, referring to the cause of your earlier concussion. “But I stood there. And I stared.”

“Before you ran in and carried me out of there.” You filled in, rubbing your sore shoulder as the images flew past you. “You made a decision right in your eyes, at that exact moment. If you had left me there, you’d be sitting here with just as much remorse.”

A pained silence took over as you doubted your next words. “We don’t get to make it out of these missions without regrets and hauntings.”

His hand reached for his pocket, already pulling out a cigar he had stacked away for later. At the sight, you squint your eyes together, slapping his hand.

“Will you stop that?”

“I don’t get to smoke?” He grumbled.

“No.” Came your simple answer. “We don’t get to drink and smoke this away.”

“We? No. I do.” He replied, standing up and opening a window on the other side of the room.

“All this time I didn't know You were breakin' down I'd fall to pieces on the floor If you weren't around.”

Brief anger flooded through you, and you shot up from your chair. Too swift for your head to process its movements. White dots covered your vision, your hand immediately grasping the corners of the kitchen island. Your knees buckled briefly, but you were able to remain your posture, now focused on the floor, instead of on your boyfriend, who had already rushed towards you.

A hand came into contact with your back. Gently, but firmly. You did not look up, but you knew he was next to you. Tears began to gather in your eyes as you kept staring at the floor.

“This is difficult for me too, okay?” You mumbled out, now nearly scared to look up. “But I will not sit by while you use self destructive coping mechanisms for grief.”

“I know,” Logan uttered, his hand now grasping your waist as he turned you around slowly, letting you adjust to the room and its lights again.

Giving up on fighting, you let your head fall forward, resting against his chest. You were too tired for all of this. If he were to smoke his worries away, so be it. You’d scold him for it later. When you weren’t on the verge of passing out again.

“Too young to know it gets better I'll be summer sun for you forever Forever winter if you go.”

“You okay now?” He asked, his free hand running to the back of your head, slowly pushing your hair back.

“I don’t want to fight over this, Logan.” You sighed. “This is no matter to be fought about. I just…”

Your words trailed off, fatigue settling into your features. You really could do with a couple hours of rest. You shouldn’t have left your bed.

“I just don’t want you to think you are alone in this.” Finally, your head raised, and your eyes met Logan’s.

“You don’t need to hide in the kitchen at night to deal with this on your own. I am right beside you. Just call.”

His eyes softened at your words, the hint of a sympathetic smile gracing his features. What was he to say now? Simply let all of it slip out? Or just the pieces he knew you’d be able to help with? How were words to solve this ordeal?

“If I was standin' there in your apartment I'd take that bomb in your head and disarm it I'd say I love you even at your darkest And please don't go.”

Your hand gently touched his, lingering on your waist as well. And as simple as that touch, everything began spilling out.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” He whispered. Silently, quietly. As if he was scared others would hear him through the halls.

“The kids, losing them…” He halted briefly, tucking your head under his chin. “It’s a pain you can’t even describe, but the loss of someone you know. Someone you’re close to.”

A deep sigh filled the air, and for a moment, you could swear his grip on your body tightened. Very short, and very light, but you knew it was there.

“When your body hit that wall today, there was a moment I thought I saw the life slip out of you. If there is anything beside our losses today that will haunt me, it is that memory.”

“I didn't know You were breakin' down I'd fall to pieces on the floor If you weren't around.”

The terrifying chill of a silent response flew through the air, and Logan could not even begin to describe how much he hated it. And thus, he parted from you, one hand still entwined with yours, though more loosely now.

“I have been through worse.” You tried to reassure, hoping to somehow lift that burden off his shoulders.

“And that worries me,” The man rejected. “Where will you draw the line?”

Staring into his eyes, it was now your turn to squeeze his hand. “Where you will.”

Whether he should or should not have taken peace with that, he truly could not tell in that exact moment. But it seemed as if your fatigue had slipped into him. He could start an entire debate on those mere words, but neither of you had the energy to follow up to them.

So he spoke the only words that would make sense to the both of you.

“Come to bed?”

“Too young to know it gets better I'll be summer sun for you forever Forever winter if you go.”

The walk back to your room had been longer than you thought the journey to the kitchen had been. Perhaps because the grief now lay heavier on your mind. Or the fact that Logan had just confessed everything in that room and you left him with a “I have been through worse”.

But the walk was not dreadful.

It was the moment your body slid under the covers again that filled you with anxiety. Logan hadn’t spoken since that whole ordeal in the kitchen. But now, you could not decipher him. It was difficult to tell if he was mad or not.

Through the little cracks between the curtains, moonlight luminated the room. Not enough for you to make out every detail, but enough for you to notice Logan was changing into more comfortable clothes.

Heat rushed to your face, as you turned around. You’ve seen him in a lot less than just pants, but the sight never failed to make you flustered.

“I'll be your summer sun forever At 3 AM pacin' All this time I didn't know At 5 AM wasted.”

Seconds later, the bed dipped beside you, letting you know your boyfriend had finally joined you. You did not dare to utter another word, silently wishing you could fall asleep instantly.

But then his hands found your waist, and before you could say anything about it, he had pulled your figure into his. A long sigh escaped from his mouth, before he planted a short, but firm kiss on the top of your head.

“I still love you, bub.” He mumbled, placing your back against his chest as his legs entangled with yours.

The sheer relief that sentence brought you, could not even be written down. It was that moment of peace and solitude after a test where so much anxiety and doubt went into.

It was all okay.

“I'd be in pieces on the floor. Forever winter if you go. He says he doesn't believe anything much he hears these days.”

“I love you too.” You whispered back, grabbing one of his hands and bringing it up to your lips, placing a chaste kiss to it.

“Talk to me, next time.” You continued, nestling against his chest.

A low hum vibrated through his chest as he held you closer, his breath now fanning over your neck.

“I promise.”

“I say, "Believe in one thing, I won't go away".”

—

Taglist: @eerie-inn

I changed the request slightly to fit the story more. Still hope you like it!

#november writings 2022 #X-men #Logan howlett #wolverine #Hugh jackman #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader

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