Jean messes with Logan a little. [Log]
Jean: Jean was pissed off at how things had gone with Victor. She'd thought he was of the same ilk, but apparently he actually cared about people.
What the fuck was that about?
She'd taken what she wanted from the empath and given him what he'd requested. She still held a favor over his head, and would be calling it in when necessary. Apparently, Kat had been shot, so Jean was leaving her alone. For now. That left the other pet project: Logan. She needed to get into his head and figure out what made him tick. He currently held power over her, since he'd seen her at her worst, most pathetic, one of those times Jean would've rather died than let anyone see. It was a power he didn't even know he had.
He'd not only seen it, he'd comforted her.
That didn't sit well. It did give her an insight into his nature though. The minimal time she'd spent prodding his brain had revealed lots of guilt, worry, and a need to help. Almost a Messiah complex, without the schizophrenia. Standing hidden near the room he shared with Victor, Jean reached out for Logan's mind, playing small tricks. A sudden hint of the scent of fear mixed with Kat's. Gun oil. A far away shriek, coming from the woods.
Logan: Logan had been lying around, not quite sleeping, when he heard it. He sat up, immediately alert, waiting only a second to hear if more sounds were coming before he ran out of his room, through the hallway, out into the woods. Jesus... What could be going on? It was Kat - he knew it was, without any idea how he knew - and how was that even possible? Had she gone outside already? Had Victor...? No, couldn't be Victor... Couldn't be.
He was surrounded by trees before he stood still, looking around and listening hard. No more sounds? Shit, that couldn't be good... He wanted to call out, but it went against his instincts; he needed to surprise whoever was doing this, couldn't let them know he was here. If they did, they might do something rash.
Jean: She kept behind him, her feet not touching the ground as she skimmed along. She needed the stealth; Logan's senses were almost too good for this to work. Jean was confident in her abilities, though.
The sound of a scuffle met his ears, Kat's shrieks growing louder. There was a gun shot, and Kat came running out of the woods. She ran in the opposite direction of Logan, ducking back into the dark woods. The smell of a stranger would hit his nose, sweat and unmistakable rage. Rustling coming toward him from the treeline.
Jean silently rounded, keeping out of his eyeline and down wind. She stationed herself behind a tree, controlling the projection carefully.
Logan: There. Logan turned towards the sound, coming as close to running as he could while not making a sound - and then there was a gun shot, and his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't be too late. He would never forgive himself.
Then he saw Kat running away. Thank God she was safe. He considered following her, but since she seemed to be OK, his first priority was to take out whoever had done this to her. He could smell him now, too - could hear him, right there, coming closer. Logan ran to take cover behind a tree, leaning his back against it as he slowly unsheathed his claws. This guy would regret what he had done - whatever that was.
Jean: She moved again as Logan dodged to hide, getting ahead of him, standing where she'd projected he'd heard a noise. In Logan's mind, a soldier dressed in black stepped out against the moonlit snow, carrying a rifle against his shoulder, in full body armor. Jean stepped in his place, her head turned to watch Logan from his cover.
There, between the body armor plates, under the arm and along the ribcage - exposed. The soldier stepped again, as did Jean, drawing out into the open and pacing Kat's footprints through the snow. The gun cocked as the underbrush rustled and a yelp could be heard from Kat's hiding spot.
Jean readied herself as much as she could. This was going to fucking hurt.
Logan: Logan waited for the man to come closer; would have waited a little longer, except that the guy cocked his gun, and Logan wasn't going to give him a chance to use it. Jumping out from behind the tree, it only took Logan's expert eyes a split second to see where best to hit him. Not the most dangerous place to stab someone, but at least he'd be in pain, and out of the game. Logan could worry about the rest later.
Roaring, he swung his claws, feeling them sink into the man's flesh.
Jean: She heard him behind her and her body tensed, waiting for the strike. The wind rushed out of her and she didn't feel the pain at first. She took that moment before her body started to shake outside her control to pull the projection back, fading the memories until they felt like a dream to Logan, a dream he knew he'd had but couldn't grasp enough to remember. Kat's footprints disappeared from the snow, the scents and sounds he had been perceiving now nothing more than what was present in front of him, the woods and Jean.
The pain hit her hard, unforced tears breaking down her cheeks. Each breath was gasping and had a strange gargle to it, and she grabbed his forearm before collapsing into the snow.
Logan: What -... What had just happened? Logan saw where he was, saw Jean, but none of it seemed to sink in, with no context to place it in. Suddenly he was there, and she was there, and... No. No, this couldn't be happening. He froze, pulling back his claws. He didn't know what to do, because this simply couldn't be. He wouldn't, never. Never.
Only when she fell to the ground did he get some control over himself again. "Jean," he gasped, letting himself fall on his knees beside her. "Oh, God, Jean..." He hesitated a moment before pressing down on the wounds, blood staining his hands. What was he supposed to do? He had to do something - undo what he had done.
Jean: Her hand moved to cover over his on the wounds, Jean working a small field around the punctures to stem the blood. She looked up at him, her eyes wild and scared. Unfortunately, for once, Jean wasn't faking the second part. The stabbing had hurt a lot more than she'd expected it to.
Jean reached for him, her fingers clutching helplessly at his t-shirt as her vision started to slip out on her. "I can..." Her breath heaved and she winced, clinging to him. "Help," she pleaded. Her hand moved to his cheek for a brief moment before she couldn't hold her own head up anymore. She was still conscious, but her body seemed to outside her mind's control.
If this didn't work the way she was hoping it would, she'd kick her own ass.
Logan: He couldn't believe he had done this to her. It hurt him so much, just seeing her like that - helpless, in pain, and begging him to help, when it was he who had done this to her in the first place. He would give anything to trade places with her. Hell, he'd give his life -...
Then Jean went limp. Snapping back to reality, Logan picked her up as carefully as he could, making sure he had a good hold on her before he started walking back to the compound, as fast as he could. Feeling her body heat, her blood slowly soaking his shirt... Logan burnt with guilt. How was he ever supposed to earn her forgiveness? But that was of later concern. Right now he had to get her to a medic as soon as possible. Every step of the way, Logan could only think of one thing. He had done this. He had done this.
Jean: She let out a whimper as Logan picked her up, pain splaying from her rips through her entire chest. Her breathing was shallow and she was trying to hold onto consciousness with every second. Jean rolled her head into his chest, trying to make herself as small as possible.
Her eyes looked up to meet his face, and she pawed at his chest lightly with her fingers. "What happened?" she asked with the last bit of energy she could muster.
Logan: He looked at her when she touched his chest, in case there was something she needed, but when she asked her question, he couldn't look at her anymore. How could he meet her eyes, when he'd done a thing like this? Instead he kept his gaze on the path ahead, following his own foot prints back to the building.
"I don't know," he sat flatly, through gritted teeth. He had never hated himself so much. Never had he attacked someone so cowardly without a reason, especially not a woman - and Jean, of all people! Goddammit... Didn't she have enough problems without him stabbing her? He took a deep breath, exhaling shakily. "I don't know..."
Jean: Her eyes rolled slightly, wincing with each step. This might have been a stupid idea. She was losing her ability to control the small telekinetic patch that was keeping her from bleeding more than she ready was, her limbs were pins and needles from the cold outside, and she couldn't keep her consciousness together enough to get into his mind, figure out what he was feeling. She caught his thoughts, since they projected so loudly she was surprised non-telepaths couldn't hear him. She knew he was feeling guilty beyond all measure and didn't understand. She needed to know what was going on inside his head, though... To find that animal trigger.
Jean shook her head, grasping at his shirt again, then looked up at him again. "Not your fault..." she managed before she slipped under.
Logan: With Jean unconscious, Logan quickened his pace. Not like he could hurt her now, and, fuck, he needed to hurry. He'd seen enough wounds to know this shouldn't kill her, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen.
Dropping her off at the med bay, having to let her out of his sight, was even worse than seeing her hurt. At least when he was with her, he could have some illusion of control, the idea that he could do something for her. (Like what - stabbing her again? Yeah, that was a great plan.) He waited in the hallway, pacing like a madman, as the medical staff worked to patch Jean up. She was still out of it when they took her to her room, and, miraculously, everyone had enough sense not to try and stop Logan when he followed. They knew, though. They knew he had done this. Of course they knew. He could feel it, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were thinking about him.
He sat by her bed, looking at her, waiting for her to come to. She looked so peaceful, so vulnerable... What kind of person was he, to have done something like this? Maybe he really was just an animal. He had failed himself, and - much worse - he had failed Jean.
Jean: When she came to, Jean took in a deep breath, immediately feeling pain radiating through her chest. It was easier to breathe now than it had been before, so that held some point of promise. She grimaced and brought a hand up to her face, pushing hair back out of her eyes.
As she came to a little more, she sensed Logan sitting next to her. Jean pulled her hand away and looked at him, struck by the expression on his face. It was incredibly hard to keep from smiling. "Logan," she said quietly, reaching a hand out for him.
Logan: When she regained consciousness, he sat up a little, shifting uncomfortably. He didn't do anything, didn't say anything; he wanted to know how she'd react to seeing him first. Amazingly, she reached out for him, and his hand instinctively moved to meet hers, gently taking a hold of it. It felt like betrayal. If he cared the slightest bit about her, he wouldn't be here; he'd be away, and he'd stay away, so she would be safe.
"Hey," he half-whispered. Guilt was written all over his face - and why wouldn't it be? He was the guy who had put her here. It would've probably been easier if she'd been angry with him; he could have understood that, and accepted it, or figured out some reason why she was wrong to blame him. Her forgiveness? That was so much more difficult to deal with. "How're you feeling?"
Jean: She gave him a concerned look, the wince of pain that came when she shifted not an act. Jean closed her hand into his, her thumb sliding over his fingers. She hadn't quite expected the level of guilt he was feeling; that would play beautifully for her. Managing a soft smile, Jean nodded. "I'm okay. I just don't understand what happened... I was coming back from the mess hall, you went running past me outside, then I was trying to talk to you then you..."
Trailing off, Jean looked at him. "I think you were asleep, Logan." She was running offense, twisting what had happened to make herself innocent. Plus, she did have to explain her reasons for being outside in the first place. She tugged his hand closer to her, her other hand coming to cover over it. "This wasn't your fault," she said with a convincing honesty. As she spoke, she let her mind reach into his, seeing the turmoil and guilt written over every thought.
Logan: Staring at his own hand, he let her take it, let her hold it. It was ridiculous - she was wounded, and yet she was taking all the action - but the amount of guilt he felt was paralyzing. And it should be. He needed this, needed to feel horrible. If he didn't, how was he supposed to know he wasn't secretly enjoying this terrible thing he'd done?
He'd been sleep-walking? Strange... He'd never done that in his life. But it made sense, the way he didn't remember anything about what had happened. He didn't agree with Jean on one thing, though. It most definitely was his fault. He'd been the one who stabbed her.
"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice almost breaking. He still couldn't look her in the eyes, staring at her hands instead.
Jean: Jean rolled onto her side, propping her elbow against her ribs where the sharp ache was. The pulling sensation told her she had quite a few stitches, but she didn't care. It was game time. He was in the palm of her hand, almost literally, and she needed to capitalize on it. She held onto his hand with one of her own, the other hand moving to his cheek.
"Shh, Logan," she said in a soothing voice. "You didn't know." Her fingers pushed through his hair, and she smiled at him, ignoring the searing pain in her chest. "See? I'm okay. It was an accident." She reached in further, focusing on the guilt. What was upsetting him, beyond the fact that he'd stabbed her?
Loss of control. Bingo.
She bit her lip lightly and smiled at him, making it as genuine as she could. "Don't beat yourself up for this, please?"
Logan: When she brushed her fingers through his hair, he couldn't avoid looking at her any longer, finally raising his eyes to her face. He was so grateful for her forgiveness, but at the same time, he knew he didn't deserve it. An accident? Hitting your knee against the table was an accident. Falling down the stairs was an accident. Getting stabbed by someone? Definitely not an accident.
He merely grunted in reply. Not like he could keep himself from feeling guilty - but if he said as much, he'd seem ungrateful. He just had to deal with it. Somehow, he had to deal with it. Just what he needed: another topic for his nightmares.
"Doctors said you'll heal OK," he grumbled, lowering his eyes again, glancing at her bandages. "Take a couple weeks to heal enough so you can move your arm like you used to."
He wasn't trying to buy off his guilt; he wouldn't dream of it. He just wanted to make her feel better.
Jean: She laid back again when he started talking, keeping his hand in hers, her fingers tracing lightly at his wrist. It was an affectionate gesture that Jean had to do consciously, but was doing it as though she wasn't thinking. She wanted Logan calm, to know she wasn't upset with him. It would make playing him that much easier.
"I'm sure I won't be making any attempts at beach volleyball, but I think I'll get by." She smiled at him again, then glanced around the room she shared with Olivia. "How long have I been in here?" She realized she had no idea how much time had passed since she'd gone unconscious outside the compound, and the severe lack of windows in the dormitories wasn't helping matter.
Logan: The stroking at his wrist was incredibly soothing, doing its job well; Logan was beginning to relax a little. Not that he'd ever forgive himself for what he'd done, but he'd grow to accept it. He would have to.
At Jean's question, Logan shrugged. He didn't exactly wear a watch. "Couple hours." About one in the med bay, three or four here... Something like that, anyway. Time passed kinda funny with things like this going on. "They said you'd be OK here. But you can go back to the med bay. If you wanna." He didn't want her to. He wouldn't be able to see her there.
Jean: She felt him relax slightly, and she kept the touch up, still making it seem like it was absent-minded. Jean watched him without intensity, something that was hard for her to pull off. Adding in the fact that she was tired to the physical drain her body had been through, it wasn't as hard as it would normally be.
In fact, her expression probably looked down right soft and inviting. For Jean.
She shook her head, her hand pressing back into his. "No, I'll stay here." If she'd only been in the medlabs a few hours, that meant it was still probably night. "Olivia probably won't be back for awhile... Why don't you get some sleep in her bed?" She smiled at him softly. "You look tired."
And beside that, it was easier to get into an unconscious mind to find the deepest fears.
Logan: Honestly, he was tired. Even with his healing factor, he still needed some sleep, and all this guilt was wearing him out. He couldn't have been sleeping long when -... Ah, shit.
He shook his head resolutely. "I'm not sleeping." He wasn't about to risk stabbing someone, especially not Jean again, and he wanted to stick around a while longer. He needed to make sure she was OK. Even if she said she was, he still needed to convince himself.
Jean: She frowned at him, managing to make it look like concern even if was frustration. Jean shook her head slowly, sighing. "Seriously, Logan. You should sleep if you get tired, okay?" She wasn't going to force the issue.
Besides, Jean enjoyed a challenge. Her hand slid along his arm a little, the absent-minded gesture becoming a little more obviously conscious. "I'm really okay." Her mind pushed into his, searching. The vastness of his memories struck her again, reminding her of Victors. She delved a little, seeing that Victor was in a lot of his memories.
A whole lot.
Well, that was probably important to remember.
Mental fatigue was there with the physical, and she silently cursed the limits of the human body, especially after being recently stabbed. She sighed, reaching her hand over to clutch at her ribs as they twinged. She'd have to rest before she could go after him more. At least she had this time to get into his head a little more. "You can go, if you want to." Jean gave him a look that said 'I'd really like you to stay'. She swallowed back bile at how cloying she was being with him.
Logan: More often than not, Logan didn't listen to people telling him what to do. Call it stubbornness or contrariness, but that was just how he was. Jean telling him he needed sleep, reassuring him that she was fine - it meant little or nothing to him. As for her telling him he could go... That made him want to do the exact opposite. How could he want to go? And, of course, the look she gave him helped to convince him he should stay as well.
He thought about it a second or two, not very happy with his dilemma. He wouldn't be able to stay awake forever. If he wanted to stay here, he would have to sleep. And really, what were the odds of him sleepwalking again? One time in well over a hundred years... The odds of it happening again were minimal. Besides, if it happened, wouldn't he go outside again? And Jean wouldn't follow him this time - not in the state she was in.
He nodded, slowly, reluctantly, making up his mind. "I'll stay." He took her hand, squeezing it gently before removing it from his arm, and lay down on Olivia's bed, on his side, so he could watch Jean. At least she wouldn't feel like she was keeping him awake this way, and he could still stay awake and watch over her, maybe, probably... Well, he could for a couple of minutes. Then exhaustion finally took over, and he fell into a deep sleep.
Jean: She rolled gently onto her side to face him in Olivia's bed, letting it seem like she drifted off quickly. In reality, she was prodding around in the vastness of his memories, unearthing what she could about why so many of his memories were inextricably linked to Victor. It went back at least one hundred years, and Jean finally figured it out. They were brothers.
Interesting.
When she felt the weight of sleep fall into his mind, she propped herself up, grimacing. There really had to be a better way to appeal to a guy like Logan than having him stab her, but that wouldn't have allowed her the incurable guilt he had about her now. Jean stared at his sleeping form, really pushing. She slid to his fears, and found what he was most afraid of. Becoming the animal that he felt resided in him. She'd seen that animal in Victor for all it's glorious violence. Bringing that out in Logan, making him enjoy it after so long resisting it...
Her little pet project had just become a larger one. She rolled over onto her back, grinning at the ceiling as she drifted off to sleep.