Everybody Hates Logan

Characters: Logan, Jean Grey
Rated: PG-13 (Language)
Summary: Logan gets an opportunity to confront the close friend who's been avoiding him since her second birth.
OOC Date: March 10th, 2018
IC Date: March 10th, 2018
Where: Logan's Cabin - Dormatories - Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters

Jean Grey has been alive since the last months of 2017. While it took her a while to reach out to the Institute after waking up, she eventually re-established contact, slowly graduating from phone calls and texting to limited outings to, eventually, Jean just moving back into the Institute on a permanent basis. After a late January weekend spent tracking her flower and rainwater-cut scent all through the mansion and the surrounding grounds while carefully omitting her physical self from nearby senses, anyway.

The man known as Logan has been a glaring exception. After a brief message to let him know that she was okay - sent sometime after Kitty touched base with him for similar purposes - she's limited her interactions with him to brief pleasantries, often given in the moments before she briskly seeks out anywhere else to be, as green eyes seek anywhere but his to rest; participating in Laura's intervention - giving him a Look as he glared at the woman whose tell-tale melange of natural fragrances she's increasingly shared - may've been the most time they've shared during her second life.

So the quiet but insistent knock at his 'cabin' door in the evening likely falls somewhere between 'expected' and 'irritating', all things considered.

"I brought whisky!" she warily calls through the door after a couple of raps.

Logan was just sitting there at the edge of his bed, rubbing his face with his hands. He was experiencing a myriad of emotions that all summed up to your basic Logan emotion: extreme rage. He sits there a moment, taking deep breaths. Out of all of them, he may have been the one who cared about Jean the most…too much even. But lo and behold, when Jean knocks on his door, he knows her scent anywhere.

He turns his head to the door, but Jimmy doesn't bother to open it until she speaks that she has whiskey. She must -really- want to talk to him. One deep breath later and Logan stands up to open the door for her, looking Jean right in the eyes before he steps aside to let her through. "….come on in." he says then.

After she enters? He closes the door, but leaves it unlocked, returning his attention to Jean. "Hey.."

It's not great whisky, but it's definitely alcoholic, and held such that the label is at his eye level when the door opens.

"Thanks," Jean murmurs, catching a brief glimpse of his eyes after she lowers the bottle but before crossing the threshold. Moving past him, she brings her hands up to lace behind her neck, the bottle simply lingering wherever it was when her fingers got too busy for it.

"I know we need to talk," she quietly continues after a few seconds of silent pacing, her gaze by then fixed on the ground. Besides the more familiar notes of her scent - like the cocoa butter of her lotion and the almost-fruits flavoring the little taffies she can't help but indulge in, especially when stressed - she carries the distinctly sweaty aroma of secrets rotting away in her gut. The bottle drifts to her hand to punctuate her stating of the obvious, then wobbles towards Logan as she loudly recovers from what was almost certainly an entirely too eager swig for a woman who might enjoy a beer now and then.

"How've you been?" she finally wonders, only just avoiding a croak as she turns a grimace his way. The hand mounted against her sternum gives another brisk whack before falling to her side with a slow exhale.

Logan nods softly to Jean as she thanks him for letting her into his 'cabin'. Either way, Logan takes a breath as clearly this was one of those moments where they needed to clear the air, either get closure, or fix whatever the hell was going on between them. Regardless, they were there…and shit needed to get done. Logan looks at her then as she admits that they need to talk.

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it." he says then in agreement, turning his head as he can smell that she's nervous…perhaps wanting to tell him things that she -really- doesn't want to tell him? Whatever the case -is-, they are gonna get it out of the way….though Logan's train of thought is completely derailed when he sees Jean just take a swig and muster her courage to speak with him.

"How've I been? Well….uh, shitty, to be honest. But, like always, I'll live." he shrugs then. "Just uh…lot of surprises lately that I don't know if I can even survive."


Jean lets her eyes meet his for a moment before they wander towards a mounted animal not so far from his head.

"I mean, yeah, you have a… kid," she quietly rationalizes, only just keeping the question out of her voice. "And a sibling. For starters… but I'm guessing that isn't it, right?" Folding her arms over her chest, she casts another glance directly at him before letting her gaze wander towards a buck-skin accent as she paces away. "Do you wanna talk about it?" she reflexively tacks on before briefly wincing at herself and tightening her folded arms.

Logan looks like he's ready to drink the entire Xavier's institute bare of all alcohol. Either way, he looks to Jean. "Yeah." then Jean seems to happily recount his woes…or at least a few of them, and Logan already seems to take a deep breath, reaching for that whiskey bottle if she allows him to borrow it for a minute.

"Yeah…Laura…and Logyn. the first one is more world-shattering than the other one. I don't know how to be a father for her, I don't. Now, she's still sticking to her old habits and I need to teach her to not end up like -me-." he says then, eyes looking right into her own. "Then Logyn…was a blast from the past. Apparently she knows everything about me, which is fucking fantastic, by the way." all the sarcasm in the WORLD was in that sentence. Deadpool would be proud.

"and then….you came back from the dead, Jean. You died….and it broke me. and now you're back…and you were alive for how long? days? weeks? almost a month? and Ororo sure as hell didn't tell me, -you- didn't tell me, no, it took Kitty to tell me. When everyone else at the Institute knew about it. I don't know how to deal with this." he says then before he just lowers his head and takes a -deep- breath.

Ghost s from the past always…always come back. sometimes it's hard to even tell if any of them are just a figment of my imagination…what I want to be real." he looks -directly- at Jean then. before he looks back forward.

"Count that on the 'Logan is on everyone's shit list'-o meter and we'll see how high I rank."

Wow…bad days.

Green eyes lift as the Wolverine begins to speak, and while they still avoid his eyes, they do remain fixed on him, his weary tone and bearing just serving to further trigger already primed instincts. The bottle is his to take, floating within his reach since moments after her brush with its contents; there's no need to be possessive when it's only a thought away, after all.

Once the sarcasm gives way to— something else, something cold and sad and shaped just right for digging into a sensitive psyche and taking root, keeping her eyes raised takes an act of practiced will. She meets it with a shuddering inhale before just sealing her lips shut as her back locks, her arms squeeze in tightly against each other, and she gives quick, stiff nods of acknowledgement, along with an, "Ororo figured it'd be best coming from…" that would be barely audible to any other set of ears before he fills in the blank himself.

Her eyes eventually slide back down once he finishes; her teeth are much quicker about finding her bottom lip. It's some time before she says anything else.

"I don't know what it's like, going to bed one night without a sister, a daughter… only to have them there in your thoughts, your life, the next," she quietly offers. "But the past and its weird way of finding us…" Green eyes slide shut for a lingering second or two as she trails off, and then…

"Can I tell you a story, Logan?" she mutedly wonders. "It doesn't really have a moral, or a happy ending, or some kind of metaphor, or allegorical relationship to our situation— or even a great excuse for anything. But it's what I've got, and you can tell me to fuck off so you can concentrate on your family when I'm done."

Logan takes a big swig of that whiskey, though unlike Jean, he doesn't make any kind of visible reaction….he's been drinking that shit for so long that it doesn't have any affect on him anymore in terms of taste other than waking him up if he's tired. Besides that, his eyes are on Jean as she starts to speak.

"Just another day in the life of Logan….if you can even call it life anymore." he mutters then as he passes the Whiskey bottle back to her. EIther way, it's very….very clear that Logan's depressed. It's call just catching up to him now.

His eyes move to her then as she kind of tells him that she has a story for the sole purpose of a story. "Alright, go for it then." he leans foward, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Either way, the woman Logan truly loves is now gonna tell him a story. Funny….tell him this a month ago and he'd have laughed in your face because Jean was dead. But, life is funny that way. he waits to hear what she has to say.

"Once upon a time," Jean softly intones after a TK-assisted snag and swig — there's a grimace but no cough; she always was a fast learner, "there was a girl who dreamed of fire: consuming her home, her family, her friends… everything she loved… everything that made her her, until there was nothing but it; not even ashes. She felt it getting hotter, the older she got - the stronger she got, the more her she became - until one day, a well-meaning Professor figured out a way to help her pace that becoming, hoping to protect her from collapsing under the weight of her own potential."

It's clear she's practiced this, pushing through with an increasingly flat look despite the numbing chill rolling off of Logan and seeping beyond bone deep. Despite shuddering well before expected, faced with the consequences of inaction; it's entirely possible that - in the course of telepathically sneaking around the mansion - she lingered on his periphery to the point of becoming a phantom scent frustratingly out of reach before retreating.

"Her dreams cooled. She lived a wild life; met incredible people," green eyes rise with a sharp inhale and try to hold his gaze, "and learned how to do wonderful things with her gifts… once she learned how not to be afraid of them, anyway. And then she died, burning."

The swig she takes as she remembers her last moments beside an exploding Master Mold doesn't even come with a grimace. The bottle floats back to Logan as her arms refold.

"And then, she was alive, making a whole clinic burn. She saved the patients; the rest - the staff…" The anticipated shudder hits as she closes her eyes for a moment. "Well," she murmurs once they open. "She still doesn't know who they were, besides people experimenting on her kind; just that in the fog of her second birth, she saw them. And she judged them. And they lost. And when she woke up to see what she'd done… she ran. And she hid, until a Scarlet Witch happened to find her, giving her the push she needed to reach out to her friends; her family. But."

Her eyes close again as she fills her lungs and stay that way.

"There was one friend she was afraid to see, because after weeks of letting those first terrible moments run over and over through her head, what she couldn't let go of - besides the screams, and the smells - was the knowledge that she understood him in a way she never could before… and the possibility that maybe he was a little more right about some things than she, or anyone else ever wanted to admit."

Whether or not the story was intended to be punctuated with a choked-off sob is questionable, but she definitely claps a hand over her mouth after it happens. It stays there through a few quick, shuddering breaths and a slow exhale, and then it drops just enough to uncover her mouth as she opens her eyes back up.

"I'm a fucking— coward," she rattles off while briskly approaching Logan, tears visibly and audibly welling now that she's out of story, "and a hypocrite, a-and, and selfish, I'm sorry, I'm sorry— " Once she's close enough, she tries throwing her arms tightly around his shoulders. "— I thought I'd be reminded of— but that's not an excuse to be a shitty— I'm sorry…"

Logan sits there then as he listens to Jean tell the story…and he knows it's the story of what she experienced when she came back. Just a hunch…..aaaand now he knows how that fire started in more exquisite detail. Either way, she has his ears…probably more than she'd like. He can feel her heart beating a little faster, her breath becoming a little quicker as she seems to draw clsoer and closer to the conclusion.

oh…but when she speaks of that 'one friend', he knows it was coming, and whe nhe heard tha first sob, that first choke that stopped her from speaking until she let those walls come down, Logan took a deep breath, and even his heart of stone started to shed some warmth.

He lowers his head for a moment before her arms are wrapped around his shoulders tightly, hugging him in what could be compared to a bear's grip. He takes a few sharp breaths before he just -breaks-, and those strong arms wrap around Jean to hold her close to him, embracing her in all the brokenness that they are. "Hey, hey…it's okay. I'm sorry too….I'm sorry for being an asshole and just causing you more pain." the two just embraced each other on the edge of Logan's bed. his head resting next to hers in the nook between her head and her shoulder, hugging her -tightly-.

Jean's grip might be tight, but the rest of her goes limp in short order now that she's unburdened herself.

She's still quick to retort, "I hurt you, and that's not okay," even if it comes out as more of a defiant mumble than anything. "I hid from everyone, and that wasn't okay either, even if nobody else thinks so— you deserve to be mad!" A red head redolent with eucalyptus and mint lifts from its place against his so she can glance at him briefly. "You're one of my best friends, and I couldn't even bring myself to call you, and I'm supposed to be an adult; I was an asshole way before you ever got the chance to be." After that's out, she just stays slumped against him while squeezing her eyes shut in an effort to will the slow but steady trickle of tears away.

"I'll be alright," she softly assures after a while. "I'm better. This, uh, ironically would've been so much worse couple of months ago? For me, anyway— time helps. I just— want you to know I'm here. If you need anything— if you'll accept anything from me…"

Logan shifts her a little bit so she can curl into him if she wants to, willing to comfort her as -much- as she needs to be comforted. He keeps close to her, noting her defiant mumblings and the way she goes limp in his arms. A deep breath then is taken before he leans just a little bit away so that they can just look at each other right in the eyes.

Given, their faces are -extremely- close right now as Jean starts to reassure him that she's perfectly fine and that this may have been worse a few months ago. It's her continued compassion for someone like him that touches him, and he nods a few times. "Thanks Jean…hey…" he caresses her cheek then and wipes away a tear with his thumb.

"You can always count on me, you know that? I'll always be here." he whispers softly. "I'll accept anything from you, Jean." he affirms then, looking at her with those beautiful ocean blue eyes as they have that heart to heart. "No more tears, Jean."

Weary green eyes open at the touch to her cheek. Mustering a small smile, she draws a hand back so she can quickly swipe it over both eyes, looking to rid herself of any lingering tears now that she's stemmed the flow.

"I know," she quietly says while swabbing, "and I appreciate that." After her hand drops with a quick and heavy sigh, she lingers for a moment longer before bringing her other arm back to slowly comb and tousle through red hair as she pulls away. "Thank you." Tousling pauses for a beat after that, then she leans back in to peck Logan's cheek.

"You're kinder, more patient than you probably give yourself credit for," she quietly observes, smile growing somewhat but remaining taut as she straightens. "Laura's lucky to have you in her life, even if you've still gotta figure out how she fits into it… and vice versa, obviously."

Logan smiles to her softly as she starts to compose herself a little bit, letting her leave his embrace as she sees fit. Though what surprises him is that she actually leans in close to kiss him on the cheek, which causes Logan to blush a bit.

What? Logan's always been in love with Jean. It's pretty much a fact of life. #comics


He nods softly to her. "Anytime, Jean. I'll always be here." both literally and figuratively because of his extreme inability to die. His arms are still around Jean even as she straightens a little bit, though his smile brightens just a little bit before he's shaking his head again.

"I don't know about that, but I'll take your word for it, Jeannie." hah, that name he always called her. Either way, he smiles softly to Jean then. "Thanks, Jean…I'll figure it out, somehow." a small breath then, but it seems whatever tension was between them is gone.

About damn time.

"Well," Jean murmurs as mirth touches a broadening smile, well removed from the sight of blood in, rather than on Logan's cheeks. "I was a…"



Another beat as her head cants. The hand in her hair falls into her lap as she briskly touches a few fingertips to her thumb.

"… six… seven… teen? Year old girl, once. Collectively, we've got some common ground. Plus, zero idea who the green-haired girl is, but she seems like she might be a healthy influence too, so we've got that going for us. She's… she's just scared, is all; once she understands that she doesn't have to be… that she's not alone anymore… like I said, she's lucky. It's kinda-trodden ground, and the trail-guide's great, too."

Logan chuckles a moment then. "Seventeen." he agrees then to Jean with a rather amused smile. Though as Jean mentions the green-haired woman that Laura's been around, Logan seems to sigh a moment. "Yeaah…apparently her name is Carmilla and she's Laura's girlfriend. From what I can tell, they are pretty much the same person in terms of background, so..more grey hairs for me." he runs a single hand through his wild black hair.

"Yeah….I've been trying to help with that, but…" he shakes his head. "She's me when I was her age. I didn't trust a single soul and I was willing to kill at a moments notice because that's how I survived when it was just me against -everyone-. But she needs to learn that she's safe here." a small shrug then. "I don't know what to do about it, but I was hoping to steal her soon…..oh, before I forget…speaking of young ladies needing a hand."

"There's a young woman who I think you should meet. You two will get along great. Her name's Aveline. Aveline Allaway. SHe's a mutant who has no ideas what her powers work like, but I think you could help her." That said, back to the topic at hand.

A small breath. "Just a mess but…I'll get through it. Somehow, I always do."

Jean can't maintain the proper level of neutrality when she blurts, "Really?" of Carmilla's origins, but at least she looks contrite afterwards.

Shaking her head, she briskly waves her incredulity away with a wince, then tightens up so she can listen intently— and, in short order, frown sympathetically.

"Steal her for— " she begins to ask before Logan switches gears almost entirely. The redhead physically whiplashes a little, but after another quick headshake, she's nodding along, albeit with a bemused squint. "No problem… but I'm gonna need more than a name, because I'm good, but not 'find a single person somewhere in the world by name alone' good. City, maybe," she gently teases before taking her feet.

Flicking the bottle towards his hands, she lets the tension out of her smile and offers, "Of course you do; you're the best at it," as she backs towards the door.

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