A door was opened off a long elegantly decorated corridor. Wall lamps glowed delicate warm light across the ornaments, skimming along the smooth wooden walls and plush royal blue carpet. Jean had brought Logan to his room, a place Logan was looking forward to. It had been an exhausting day, even for him. But yet, he had so many questions in his head, about these people, about himself, that he didn’t think sleep would come as easily as he would like. As the door opened, he slowly peered over Jean’s shoulder. She promptly stepped back so he could enter. With slow, cautious footsteps, Logan made his way into the room. Vigilant eyes scanned the room closely whilst every inhalation was analysed in his head and stored.
It contained everything a personal room should require and then some. A large bed was against the left wall, draped in soft material that matched the colour scheme of the bedroom. A wardrobe, drawers and a desk were sat opposite. Directly across from the door was a curtained window, looking out onto the impressive grounds and revealing the distant skyline of New York City. Logan stalked around the room a little more, opening wardrobe doors and leaning in to sniff and inspect. In the doorway stood Jean, leaning against the wooden frame. She curiously watched him examine his surroundings, having never seen anyone take such time or care at a task before.
Next, Logan made his way to the en-suite door, originally perplexed at what it could be. Any hotels he’d stay at would have a single toilet at the end of a dank corridor. But when he pushed back the door, a spacious bathroom was revealed, tiled in gleaming white and a matching, equally bright bath suite. A smaller window was here, currently covered by a blind. Logan turned as he looked around, seeming thrown off by the sheer quality of his new quarters. As he exited, his eyes spotted a circular light switch besides the bathroom door in the bedroom. Normally, he’d flick a switch. Curiously, he turned the small knob, and quickly looked round to see the light of the bathroom turn on and brighten. He turned the knob the other way and the light dimmed to a warm glow. Logan’s temptation to continue twiddling the light switch was cut short as Jean spoke and instantly got his attention.
“Do you like it?”
Logan spun round, eyes meeting hers and noticing the slight smile that was crafted amusedly across her lips. “Yeah, it’s good.” His eyes slowly trailed the bedroom once more before he continued, “Where’s Rogue’s room?”
“For now she has her own bedroom in the student dormitories. Normally, bedrooms are shared, but for now she has her own.”
Logan nodded slowly, his eyes shifting back her way.
Jean straightened off the door frame, canting her head at him, “Are you hungry or thirsty? I can whip something up for you if you like.”
Logan watched her for a moment as he considered her offer, “No.. it’s ok. I’m fine.”
“Alright,” said Jean softly, giving him a smile. She leant forth to take the door handle, backing out into the corridor, “Good night, Logan.” And the door was clicked shut.
Logan glanced behind him at the lit bathroom, giving it a satisfied sort of grin before he turned and made his way into it.
He would enjoy the luxuries whilst they lasted.
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“Argh!” Logan sat up like a shot, surrounded by blackness and the deafening thump of his madly beating heart. Gasping quietly, he placed a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes slowly. His face was damp with sweat and he felt a little unstable in his motions. He quickly looked up at the room around him, quickly realising that this was a very different place to his camper, and wondered for a moment where he was. Then, piece by piece, the memories trickled back into place, pushing back the nightmarish recollections that had been demanding centre stage for the night. Logan pushed himself out of bed slowly, kicking back the covers as he did so. Bare feet meant silent motions as he ventured towards the bedroom door, unlocking the catch he didn’t want to be without and exiting out onto the corridor.
The corridor was only lit by a few sparse lamps, not nearly as many as before. The darkness was occasionally punctuated by a glow of light at various points down the walkway. He had decided to take up Jean’s offer of food, minus Jean herself and five hours too late. It wasn’t hard to track the scents of food, which led him to the kitchen rather quickly. As he reached the door of the kitchen, he pushed it back slowly, creeping silently through the blackness. Not bothering to turn on a light, Logan began to search through various cupboards, so far only receiving unsatisfactory provisions such as a jar of coffee and a bag of marshmallows. Neither rated highly in Logan’s mind. He didn’t need anything to help keep him awake, and the marshmallows simply received a deathly glare.
The idea of food was quickly pushed aside as Logan spotted the large silver fridge against the wall. The image of possible ice-cold beer was overpowering, even on a rumbling stomach. Although perhaps unwise. But he didn’t care. He speedily made his way over to the fridge, taking the large handles and pulling the double doors open. A ghostly light spread into the kitchen, filling Logan with a soft glow. Shelves filled the fridge, each containing large amounts of various food and drink. Logan’s eyes scanned every bottle eagerly, becoming increasingly irritated, as none were beer. Seriously doubting chocolate milkshake had much of alcohol content; he shut the fridge, wearily defeated in his quest.
He sighed quietly, dropping down to sit upon a stool at the centre breakfast island. He leaned upon it slowly, one hand supporting his cheek whilst the other rubbed at his face tiredly. His moment of reflection over the day was disturbed as he heard some gentle, practically silent footsteps coming down the corridor. He concluded that the person was bare-footed and doing their best to be quiet as possible. Judging by the pace, they were moving quickly. Altogether, it was quite skilful, Logan decided.
In the doorway, a figure appeared. Through the darkness, Logan could not recognise them visibly, but the scent was unquestionable. The arrival clearly did not trust themselves enough in a kitchen without light, and so within a few seconds a switch was flicked, and the large lights came on, throwing the kitchen into a rather blinding whiteness after such a lengthy darkness. Logan released a quiet groan, a hand moving to cover his eyes.
There was a short scream of surprise from the doorway. Logan squinted over with a raised brow. “What’s the idea with the light, huh?” he asked grumpily.
“I didn’t know anyone else was in here.” It was Rogue, and she was still staring at Logan after he had unexpectedly been sat in the kitchen.
“Yeah, well. I’m here,” he muttered quietly, still blinking and squinting. “What you still stood standin’ there for? I ain’t stoppin’ ya kid.”
Rogue blinked at him before she quickly moved towards the sink, helping herself to a clean glass and pouring herself a glass of water. As she did this, Logan watched the back of her, eyes following her right until she came and sat down opposite him at the breakfast bar. “What you doin’ up?” she asked, glancing over at him slowly.
Logan just shrugged closely with a quiet groan, leaning forth into his hands with a grumbled mutter.
“Haven’t eaten your pillow have you?”
Logan quickly looked up with a baffled expression, “What?”
“I heard something about nightmares and marshmallows.” Rogue had a sly grin on her face, idly cocking an eyebrow as she sipped her drink.
Logan stared at her for a moment before a slight smile twitched his usually straight lips, “Very funny, kid,” he muttered, shaking his head a little. The pair fell quiet for a short while, with Rogue drinking her water.
“Y’know, I’m glad we came clean about everythin’..”
“Yeah..” Logan raised his head slowly to watch her, “So, is your power really than you can’t touch anyone? You weren’t jus’ sayin’ that?”
“It’s true. For some reason, when my skin touches someone else’s it seems to hurt them somehow.. like, it drains their energy.” Rogue idly studied her gloved hand for a moment, seeming to become a little reserved. She changed the topic off of her, “What about yours?”
“Oh, just, er, healin’. I can heal faster than others. I also got other enhanced abilities, like my senses an’ that.”
“Sounds useful.”
“Yeah..”
Rogue watched him for a moment before she canted her head, “So, why are you outta bed? Did you really have a nightmare?”
For a moment it seemed that Logan was deliberating the answer, perhaps contemplating over whether he should get over his pride and admit it. “Yeah..” he began quietly, the smile that was forming on his lips swiftly fading as he looked down at the blue tiled surface. “I usually have them.”
At this, Rogue looked rather surprised, “Usually? You mean you have a nightmare every night?”
“Most of the time,” admitted Logan quietly, “Sometimes they are not too bad.. sometimes I wake up screaming..”
There was a sudden silence between them, which involved Rogue watching Logan and Logan continuing to stare at the table top. Then, quietly, Rogue spoke, “Was it bad tonight?”
“Not the worst I’ve had.. but yeah.. it was bad. Probably ‘cause a lot of it was rehashed earlier when I was talkin’ to the Professor guy.”
But this was something Rogue had not heard before, “A lot of it? Logan, a lot of what?”
At this, Logan raised his head slowly, eyes meeting hers as the two mutants surveyed each other across the table, “I can’t remember anythin’ up until fifteen years ago. Anything I can recall is only when I’m asleep.. and they’re not pleasant.”
Rogue hesitated for a moment, “What do you see?”
“Usually I don’t see much, it’s more of what I hear and feel.” He fell quiet. Talking about his deepest secrets of his memories was not something he normally did. But somehow, he was feeling better for saying it, for not leaving it all locked up inside. “It’s to do with these,” and he raised a hand. With a sudden sound, three large blades shot out of his knuckles. Caught by surprise, Rogue shot back with a gasp, gripping the table edge in her shock. Logan regarded her reaction with solemn eyes. “I don’t think I always had these. Something in those nightmares tells me that.”
“In the nightmares.. what happens?”
“I feel.. pain. I feel trapped. Wherever I am, I get out, but then I notice my claws. I’m covered in blood, but I don’t know whose..” he fell quiet, looking down with a poignant silence. “I don’t think it’s mine.”
“And this actually happened? Do you think it did?” asked Rogue, staring at him with a fearful expression.
“It feels so real,” he whispered quietly, “The pain, I can remember it. I can recall the way my lungs burned when I screamed.” Silence settled upon them, with neither finding anything to say. He looked up at her slowly, eyes meeting her shocked ones. “I shouldn’t have told you this,” he muttered, standing to his feet quickly.
“No, Logan,” Rogue rose also, reaching a hand across the table to take his wrist with her gloved hand. He quickly look round, surprised. “I think it took a lot to tell me somethin’ like that. If I could help, with anythin’ at all. Just tell me, alright?”
There was a moment in which Logan regarded her with softening eyes, nodding his head slowly, “Thanks, kid,” he murmured quietly, pulling his wrist back a little so her palm fell into his. He squeezed her hand gently with his before he released it. With another nod he turned away, slowly walking out of the kitchen and leaving Rogue alone stood watching the door for a short while after.
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