If we were meant to fly, we'd grow wings - OTA
*Logan had been fine, once he'd got himself on the plane. He really had. But then the door had shut, and all the fear he'd been suppressing had come bubbling up with a vengeance. The blood drained from his face as his eyes shot towards his only line of escape, now closed off. The only reason he'd managed to avoid getting up and running out of there was that he'd used his fear, let it paralyse him. He couldn't run. It wouldn't have done any good, anyway; he'd have had to get right back on the plane. Leaving would've achieved nothing but making him look like a goddamn idiot - and giving Stryker another chance to prove just how much he was in charge.
Now that the plane was up in the air, Logan was not so much panicking anymore as generally miserable. People did this voluntarily? They were out of their minds. This was horrible. His head felt bad; his stomach felt worse. And as if that wasn't enough, Victor had stalked off after Emma to do God knows what - like Logan needed to guess. There were only two options, and each was as bad as the next. Logan didn't even give a shit. He just wanted this whole trip to be over with. Leaning forward to ease the pressure on his stomach, he briefly closed his eyes while his hands clenched each other, desperate for something solid to hold on to.*
Now that the plane was up in the air, Logan was not so much panicking anymore as generally miserable. People did this voluntarily? They were out of their minds. This was horrible. His head felt bad; his stomach felt worse. And as if that wasn't enough, Victor had stalked off after Emma to do God knows what - like Logan needed to guess. There were only two options, and each was as bad as the next. Logan didn't even give a shit. He just wanted this whole trip to be over with. Leaning forward to ease the pressure on his stomach, he briefly closed his eyes while his hands clenched each other, desperate for something solid to hold on to.*