Slipping
Chapter 1: Don’t Let Go!
“Don’t let go,” his words are a command and in my fright I obey, but I can feel it; I’m slipping. Logan’s bare hand is hardly three inches away from mine and that frightens me more than the churning gears nipping at my heels. Above me, Logan hangs; he is tangled mercilessly within the cables and wires that seem to have no other purpose than to snare him like a fly in spider silk.
“Logan,” his name is ripped from my throat as gravity damns me and my sweating palm slips another inch. The tattered remnants of my uniform sleeve refuse his desperate attempts at capturing my arm in his firm, strong grasp; it will tear away soon and when it does I will fall. I won’t clutch at his naked fingers as I slip.
We are running out of time; neither of us is able to hide behind useless reassurances nor pretty little lies. The team won’t make it to us in time and Logan is going to have to watch me die; I think that is what hurts me the most, that he’ll see my end. His last sight of me will be of my bloody, mangled body not really the way you want to be remembered.
My sleeve tears a little more and this time it is his hand that slips and there is now just one tiny inch until skin-on-skin contact. Soon, I will have to let go. I won’t allow myself to hurt him; the fierce growl rumbling from his throat and the scorching look in his eyes burns me, he knows what I am thinking, “I said, you fuckin’ don’t let go; do you fuckin’ hear me?”
“I’m gonna hurt, ya!” My voice is clogged with tears now; fear has passed, fear is for the unknown, it is time for sorrow now. “Please, Logan,” I beg and I try to smile through my tears. “Close your eyes, Sugah.”
The sound slipping from Logan’s throat is half sob choked down by an impudent roar, “No, if you’re going to god damned quit on me you’ll fuckin’ look me in the eye and tell me you don’t fucking care enough to hold on!”
“Damn, ya, Logan…” My chest tightens as his eyes, so brown begin to shine with sorrow. “Ya know Ah care, damn ya to hell!”
“Don’t leave me here alone, Marie.” The soft, mournful tones are nearly drowned out by the thundering equipment, but I hear the words and they pierce me.
“Logan,” I try again, but he shakes his head.
“I can hold on,” he cajoles.
“My skin…”
“Doesn’t matter,” he licks his lips as he scowls, his fingers are flexing trying to gain purchase. “You can’t hurt me; you won’t hurt me, Baby, unless you give up.”
“Ya know it ain’t true,” I growl, he’s being naïve.
“You won’t hurt me,” he smiles, and even though there are tears in his eyes Logan looks hopeful, “and I won’t let you go.”
When it happens, neither of us were prepared; the leather rips loose and my bloody arm slips through his scrabbling fingers like sand. They say you see the past play out before you when you are about to die, but for me it was my future.
Logan’s adamantium grip locks around my wrist; I don’t hurt him and he doesn’t let go.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is a one-shot, but my muse wants me to keep my options open on whether or not it stays that way.