Chapter Text
Going out to a bar wasn’t something that Logan expected. “Jeannie, you know I love a good drink but…” She nudged him by the elbow.
“But what? What’s stopping you?” She teased.
Something. Something is always stopping me. It was Logan’s fear of getting closer with people, opening up - he wasn’t the best at that.
3 YEARS AGO
Victor was an ass, he was always stopping Logan from doing something. Especially talking to Scott. “He may be a pretty boy,” he told Logan in a hushed whisper in the library “but he’s taken, you know that. You scared ‘em away back in high school. He wouldn’t date you. You’re like…a feral animal.” Logan was confused, why was his brother saying this to him? - Of course, he never liked Vic as a brother but had no choice but to drag him along like a puppet, to make him feel included - which is weird.
Victor wasn’t the only thing stopping him from going after relationships and chances…It was his own fear, trauma…After losing their parents in the war, he didn’t know how to live with himself. Lord, it was unbearable - to see his dreams crushed before his eyes. When the people weren’t looking and when his stupid brother wasn’t home, he’d smoke a cigarette and paint. He wasn’t the best at it, it was therapeutic and calming for his anger. Nothing stopped him from painting.
END OF FLASHBACK
Jean pulled him along through the messy crowd of drunk dancing people. She then pulled him to a private room where one of her friends, Ororo was waiting for them. She was indeed, very beautiful like Jean described. Her friend groaned, “you brought him along?” She drummed her fingers on the table. Logan and Ororo briefly met, he was very angry at the moment and swore at her. Logan’s cigarette smell filled the room. It was hard enough to pick a decent outfit. Scott said that all he does is grunt and run - which is partly true. He did run a lot when he was younger. Logan and Scott did a lot of underage drinking when they were younger. They’d go out and drink like crazy, give each other sloppy kisses that felt like fire.
“Sorry about last time,” he apologised. “I didn’t mean it,”
“I know,” she retorted, folding her arms “which is why it makes you look like an idiot.” He chuckled at her witty reply. He was always amazed at women, their intelligence and knowledge… Soon the waiter came over and addressed them. Logan ordered a beer, it was the bitter taste that soothed his insides - he thinks. “So I heard you used to be a lumberjack,” Ororo said, holding her warm cup of tea. He nodded “yeah, wasn’t the best job for me to be honest – I’ve been unemployed for a while. Uh - what about you?”
It was awkward for Jean to be sitting there, watching them interact. “I’m a meteorologist.” She explained with a smile, it wasn’t the best thing to say out loud. She really did enjoy her job but it did get boring sometimes. Jean ordered a few many alcoholic drinks, most likely enjoying the show.
“Ah,” was all Logan could say. How do you respond to someone who reports the weather every day? The next hour was very nice, it was filled with laughter and funny stories - of course, Jean was still there but it was fun. Logan noticed it wasn’t a romantic connection, but platonic. Jean said that all romances don’t start with a romantic connection straight away. Ororo was very nice and listened to his stories about his brother and the war… Once they got back home, they found Scott cleaning up the living room. “Found what you were looking for Logan?” He asked with a smile.
“Sort of,” he replied, shuffling his feet and looking at the ground.
The two of them are currently outside, doing the garden. The sun was bright and the air was clean…Logan always wondered what would happen if he were to take Scott and Jean on a trip to Canada. “She was nice,” Logan explained “but…”
“But what?” He asked, confused about why his friend was so picky about choosing someone. Anyone would be lucky to have Logan. When they were in high school, he wanted to kiss Logan so bad - he wanted to kiss him until he turns a pretty pink. “But…I don’t think I deserve it,” he sighed, pulling out more weeds. His friend paused - why would he ever think that? Logan was an already confusing person. Scott doesn’t understand why he doesn’t like his book collections maybe because he was taller…He just wants to get to know him better. Logan’s smoke tangled the air.
“You do Logan,” Scott reassured, “especially after all you’ve been through.”
“You have no idea what I’ve been through.” He replied sharply. He paused, thinking about what he was saying and who he was saying it to. “Sorry,” he apologised “I’m not…the best at…”
“I know,” he smiled “it’s okay Logan, I understand.” No matter how much Logan confused Scott, whether emotionally or physically – he would always be there for him. He was always too scared to say it. When they were younger, they would just do so much stupid shit and get away with it - they would be happy. Now, they’re adults and something was in the way between them. Like a wall.
Meanwhile, Jean was inside, having a headache… she had trouble breathing - her lungs hurt. As much as she doesn’t allow Logan to smoke - she snuck out one too many times to have a few herself. After what happened to her parents a couple of months ago - the stress has been a lot. That night she didn’t talk to Scott that much, only gave him a single kiss on the cheek and went to bed. The next few nights were weird, Jean would return home late, drunk or in a mess.
Scott was concerned. It was a Thursday night, she would be home by now. It’s 11.00 pm, a thunderstorm could be heard - the thunder booming and cracking in the dark thick clouds. “Where can she be, Logan?” He asked. He rubbed his hands together nervously. Logan was on the lounge, smoking - again - this time Scott didn’t tell him off. He was too worried about Jean. He was deciding whether or not to call the police or…He frowned. Something didn’t add up. Jean has been acting strange, distant.
“I know that face,” Logan said, putting the cigarette on the ashtray, “I’ve seen it before. You always were a big worry wuss.” Scott’s cheeks heated up at the nickname.
4 YEARS AGO
Scott was worried, especially about tonight. He was pacing back and forth in the art room. Logan was painting, again. “Don’t be so worried, Jeannie loves ya.” He assured him. Jeannie loves ya. He’s almost disgusted at himself for saying that - Scott doesn’t like him anymore. “I know,” Scott sighed, holding the bouquet of flowers “it’s just that - we’ve been together for so long…I just feel so many - butterflies around her.” The smile that appeared on Scott’s face was a treasure.
“Cute,” was the blunt reply “seriously though, Slim, don’t be so caught up on this stuff. Go up and ask her to the dance.”
“You’re right Logan, I should.”
END OF FLASHBACK
He sighed and grabbed his keys from the counter “c’mon, let’s go looking for her.” They went outside, the bitter winds brushed against their skins. It howled as the rain pattered down. They ran towards the car in the driveway. They opened the door, Logan in the driver’s seat. His friend chuckled, he still had the same car from high school.
“Remember back in High School, you would steal my motorbike?”
“Yeah,” he smiled “but who gave you it?”
They drove around town first, almost everything was closed - apart from this blaring noisy bar down the street. It had flashing bright lights and pumping music. They stepped out, the rain was pounding and their jackets were soaked. They walked up, the security guard asked for ID, they showed their driver’s licence and went in. People smashed glasses of alcohol as people screamed along to the music. Scott covered his ears, holding onto Logan’s arm, trying not to lose each other in the sweaty crowd.
Jean was there, lying against a leather couch. Her words were slurring and she was having trouble breathing. No one else was with her. “Jean!” Scott called, running towards her. He cupped her face, she was almost blacked out “Jesus…how much did you drink?” He mumbled, carrying her bridal style.
“Scott,” she groaned, she started coughing…then they saw the ashtray piled with cigarettes. Scott looked at Logan, concerned. He frowned, not sure whether to be angry at Logan - maybe it was his influence, maybe that wasn’t hers - but he could smell the smoke tangling through the room filled with drunk idiots.
“We’re going home, Logan start the car.” He insisted strongly. Jean was mumbling some sort of nonsense that they didn’t understand.
“You always think you can solve yer own problems.” He muttered. He spoke up louder, “Jeannie needs a doctor - not some two men who barely know how to function.” He was slightly offended, he knows very well how to ‘function’.
“We need to go home–” he insisted strongly. All he wanted to do was to get answers…to know why Jean was so distant. He just wanted to keep her safe.
“No,” Logan snapped back “it’s the logical thing to do. She needs a doctor. No aspirin is going to fix that.” Scott looked at his girlfriend’s condition, there were small droplets of blood on her pretty-blue jeans. Her red hair was tangled, messy and she didn’t stop coughing. Scott sighed, “fine, let’s go to the hospital.” Jean threw up twice on the side of the road before entering the car. It took a while for Jean to get on her seatbelt. They drove through the heavy winds. The rain was louder than ever, they could barely hear themselves talk.
“S-Scott,” Jean slurred from the back of the car.
“Yes, love?” He replied.
“Where are we…we go…going?” She hiccuped.
“The hospital,” Logan replied, turning a corner. The song Gloria was blasting on the radio. “Why the hell is a radio working at midnight?” He grunted. Scott was tapping nervously as Jean was passed out in the back. The shorter man turned to him, then back to the road. He wanted to hold his hand, assure Jean and Scott that everything will be okay. It was a long drive the hospital - Logan was very tired, he could barely keep his eyes open.
“I can drive if you want,” Scott said.
“No thanks -” Logan sighed and looked at the time. 1.00 am. “You’re right, we should’ve gone home…” he mumbled.
“No, you were right. It’s okay, I’ll drive.” the storm was still pattering on their car, the thunder still roaring into the night. Logan parked somewhere as they switched seats, Scott now taking the wheel. After seeing nothing but blurred lights in the dark, they arrived. It was tiring to get Jean out of the car, they both felt dizzy after taking the elevator. They walked up to the reception, filling out a form. “Jeannie, how long as this cough been goin’ on for?” Logan asked tiredly.
She didn’t respond, she passed out on Scott’s shoulder. “I’ll write it,” Scott offered “go get a coffee or something. You need it. Thank you, Logan.” He almost wanted to refuse, but he really did need something to drink. He grabbed a coffee and returned to the waiting area. Scott was pacing up and down. Jean was gone, in a medical bed - being pushed off to a private room.
“She okay?” He asked, finishing the last few drops of his coffee. He feels much more awake. But he knows Scott is tired.
“Yeah,” he said, finally sitting down. “Doctor said she has alcohol poisoning and a cough.”
“Shit,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He sat next to him. There was a pause. Scott was staring at the floor. “You’re gonna stay here, aren’t ya?”
Scott nodded, “can’t leave her alone.” Not like how I left you alone.
“Well, I can’t leave you alone either.” He replied with a smile. He took Scott’s hand, knowing how much he needs comfort. They wait patiently and anxiously for the results. They were glad to have each other at this moment. Logan’s hands felt warm, comforting…Scott smiled at the touch, the words - Logan was a good person. Some people fail to see that. “Hey,” he said softly “I saw some Lillies downstairs, wanna get some for her?”
“It’s okay,” Scott gave him a small smile. He thought about how Logan’s smoke intoxicated him, entangled his thoughts at night and how it might have entangled Jean’s… “you’ve done enough.” He couldn’t help but find the bitterness between his words. Like it was an obvious sign, meant for him. Logan removed his hand and shook the thought away. He was tired, just tired. That was all. He also couldn’t help but find Scott looking pretty - looking wonderful - he wanted to slap himself in the face. Stop, it, you’re tired. You both are.