“Where the hell have you been?” Scott’s angry question greeted Logan when he opened the front door of the mansion. Summers was standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands crossed over his chest, rather gloomy expression on his face. Logan answered to the scowl with his own, not bothering to answer verbally. He tried to walk straight past Scott, as if he wasn’t even there, but the leader of the X-Men was now on full ‘protective older brother’ –mode. “She’s been worried sick,” Scott hissed, grabbing Logan’s shoulder and moving in front of him, blocking his path to upstairs. For a second Logan seemed to wonder would it actually be worth the hassle to carve him up. He settled to shrugging Scott’s hand off from his shoulder instead.

“I told her that I’d be back,” he grunted, annoyed. It wasn’t Scott’s place to demand explanations of his whereabouts.

“You told her that you’d be back. You do realize that it was well over two years ago?” Scott asked.

“Yeah? So? I’m here now. And if you hadn’t stopped me I’d be in my room unpacking,” Logan said, trying to go round the insistent obstacle. Scott was having none of that. Logan moved, Scott moved to block his path, and for a while they swooped and swayed like they were performing some sort of exotic ritual, trying to dance each other dizzy. Finally Scott grabbed Logan from the front of his jacket, bunching the leather in his fists and pulled the other man closer.

“Two fucking years you dipshit! Two years. No phone-call. No letter. Not a fucking postcard. Nothing to let her know if you were well, hell, if you were even alive!”

Logan looked slightly surprised. Then new wave of anger swept over his features and he bared his teeth.

“Get your fucking hands off before I lop them off, Cyke,” He spat with clipped tone. Scott only tightened his hold.

“She’s been worried out of her mind! What kind of a bastard leaves a girl like that? You could have at leas…” Rest of Scott’s tirade drowned when Logan’s palm landed none too gently over his mouth.

“The kind of a bastard that knows that the girl is in good hands and better off without him. Now…” Logan growled, letting go of Scott, “I’m kind of tired. Haven’t been sleeping so well lately. Haven’t slept at all for the past week, too scared to do that. I’m going to head over to my room. You know where to find me if you need me…” He spoke with a low voice, climbing past Scott who was too dazed to stop him and disappeared to the foyer of the second floor.

Too scared to sleep?

“Logan!” He was running after Logan who was standing at the door of his room, puzzled look on his face. The door was open.

Scott stopped next to him. “Like I said, she’s been worried sick,” he whispered when Logan turned to look at him. Then they both turned to look at the girl sleeping on the bed.

At first she appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but then they could both see telltales of a restless dream. Small beads of sweat on her forehead. Tense arch of her brows. Her fists curled tightly under her chin.

“She’s been sleeping here every now and then, says that it’s easier to fall asleep…” Scott started. Logan didn’t let him finish. He stepped in to the room and closed the door.

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He knew that Scott wouldn’t knock. He wouldn’t knock because the girl on the bed wasn’t sleeping properly. Judging from the dark blotches under her eyes she hadn’t been sleeping properly for quite some time.

He threw his knapsack next to an armchair that stood by the window, then peeled off his jackets.

Creak of the leather sounded odd, too loud in the silence of the room, but it wasn’t loud enough to pull the girl from slumber.

He toed off his boots. Emptied his pockets. Keys and wallet ended on top of a drawer with harsh clatter, followed by the tin box of small cigars and his lighter.
Girl murmured in her sleep and curled to a tighter ball.
He walked over to the chair and sat, soft and luxurious cushioning nearly swallowing him whole.

If he closed his eyes he could actually see the high-pitched, continuous, sickening sweet and stretching whine that rang inside of his skull, so he straightened his stance a bit and forced his eyes open.

There was nothing much to look at, except the girl.

The girl whom he had given his promise to return.

The girl he had seen every time he dared to sleep, dancing in the darkness, endless waltz behind his closed lids, always avoiding his grasp, always dissolving to thin air all too soon and leaving him to the mercies of less appealing shadows from his past.

“Marie…” Her name tumbled from his lips, syllables slightly frayed, cracked from the edges.

Girl woke up, her gaze zeroing in to him. Telling him that it was alright.

He rose from the chair. Crawled in to the bed and gathered her in to his arms. Breathed in, filling his lungs with her scent and warmth.

It wasn’t enough to wash away the hurt and exhaustion. It wasn’t enough.

“But it’ll have to do… For now.”