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Logan almost smashed the glass on the counter, poured the scotch in and downed it in one go. So long to all good ol’ Charles’s rules. Those days were gone.
The others followed him shortly and shut the door behind their back.
<< It’s getting worse. We need to get him away from here. >>
<< We can’t, Scott. >>
Jean's voice was firm, but shaken. Her eyes met with Logan’s for an instant, and they burned more than the alcohol in his throat.
<< The only way I can control it is by using Cerebro and channelling his mind back into… >>
<< We’ll send the kids away, then. >> Scott looked around, expencting some form of support. << It's not safe for them here as long as he stays. >>
The words hurt. Logan downed a second glass.
<< They have nowhere to go. >> Storm’s voice sounded more like a plead than an actual argument.
Logan briefly met her eyes in a glipse and quickly looked away.
<< Most of them have families they can go back to. >> Scott insisted. << I don’t like this anymore than you do, but… >>
<< What do you think, Logan? >>
Every inch of Logan’s neck stiffened. He felt Jean’s eyes piercing through him without even using her power. No need for telepathic abilities to say he would have liked better to take his chances and go through that hell again than answer that single one question. The one he knew was coming.
<< What did you do in your future? >>
That one.
Three pair of eyes were staring at him, three pair of lungs were holding their breath. He just wished he had a cigar at hand.
<< My future was different from this. >>
What he did have was the bottle of scotch on the counter, still uncorked, and the glass in his clenched hand, still in one piece. That would do.
<< He didn’t have the seizures? >> ventured Storm, tentatively. << Maybe if Jean can establish a contact, your Professor could… >>
<< He’s dead. >> said Jean.
A beat. Storm and Scott looked at her, then back at Logan.
<< Is that true? >>
Jean’s eyes were gleaming. Logan tore himself away from that, forcing his thoughts to a different direction.
<< I told you to stay out of my head. >> he said grimly, pouring himself a third glass.
<< That doesn’t make any sense. >> said Scott, stubbornly refusing death as ever. << I remember the Professor saying that he met himself, alive. >>
Logan felt the stung of Jean’s power looking for answers, her glare still trained on him. He decided to just shut her out, to ignore her, and focus on the conversation instead.
<< Look, it’s more complicated than this… >>
<< What? What is? >> Scott lashed out. << What could possibly be more complicated than you refusing to cooperate? >>
<< Scott… >>
<< Ever since you got back you’ve been acting like this. You know things and you keep us out. Like that kid, in New York, the one they made the serum from, you knew about that and you didn’t say anything. You let him die, Logan, you let Hank die, that’s on you. >>
Something deep inside clicked and Logan found himself holding Scott’s throat up against the fridge door.
<< Listen to me, you little shit, >> he hissed to his ear, forcing his claws back into his knuckles. << I had no idea of what was going to happen. >>
<< You knew about the kid. >> Scott’s hand slumped down after instinctively raising to the side of his glasses. << Why didn’t you let the Professor go through that part? >>
A frame of the battlefield flashed through his mind, Hank by his side, Magneto defeated at their feet, and a bunch of soldiers firing their plastic guns at…
<< You stay out of my head! >>
The tip of his claws was less than an inch away from her. For the briefest instant, Logan thought he’d felt the resistance of her body to the blade. Again. Jean didn’t even move, she stared back at him, petrified. The memory of the other Jean's eyes, of that grateful last glance as he held her in his arms, overlapped briefly with the ones in front of him, brimming with power and horrified by what they could see.
<< I’m so sorry, I… >>
He didn't wait for the end of that sentence. He followed his feet as they stormed out of the room on their own will.
He smelled her scent before she could even knock, and pretended he didn’t.
<< Logan, may I come in? >>
<< Would you stop if I said no? >>
Storm let herself in, carefully, and took the chaos of his messy room in.
<< What are you doing? >>
<< Packing. >>
“So you’re running away, as you always do.” he imagined Scott’s voice say, but thank God he wasn’t there to lecture him.
When he peeked at Storm’s face, however, he almost regretted they hadn’t sent him to bargain. A good old punch on the ribs would have settled it in his favour.
<< We need you, Logan. >> she said, stepping into his mess in the stubborn attempt to make eye contact. << You’re the only one who can get through his crisis and get him into Cerebro. >>
That’s what they’d done. He’d brought Charles in there, Jean had sealed him in until the seizure had gone. It had worked, but for the fourth time in his conscience’s long life Logan had honestly thought his healing abilities wouldn’t get him through this time. That was just how bad it had been.
<< That’s why I’m taking him with me. >>
<< What- where? >> Storm almost stuttered in disbelief.
<< We’ll figure it out once we’re out of here. >>
The bag was done. A stuck of cigars, three bottles to get through the night, some clothes he had shoved in mindlessly.
<< He’s the smart one, he’ll think of something as soon as he wakes up far away from here. >>
Storm stood between him and the door.
<< Logan, we are a team, we have better chances if we stick together, you know that. >>
He knew she would say something like that. No matter what version of the timeline, that was the Ororo Munroe he knew. It felt comforting to know he could rely on that. On that and on Scott being a dick.
He almost smirked at that.
<< Look, this is the right thing to do. Just until we figure out something better. You know how hard it is for me to admit it, but I think Scott was right on this. Charles needs to get away from here. >> he grabbed her shoulder in what he could only hope was perceived as a friendly gesture. << The kids need a safe place to stay. Not all of them have somewhere to go. >>
Storm let out a deep sigh.
<< Are you going to be alright? >>
<< I’ll die trying. >>
She snorted in a sad little smile, and hugged him tightly, looking away.
<< This room is a mess. >>
<< Don’t let the kids touch my stuff. >>
And then it happened.
The silence of the night exploded, pain coming in piercing waves from within the mansion, a thousand screams drowned underneath the ringing in his head. Logan forced himself to open his eyes and he felt such pressure on them that could melt his brain. Storm slumped down from his arms, lifeless, and he decided to just ignore that for the moment. He fixed his eyes on the door she’d left ajar. He had to get to him, he had to keep moving. He wished Jean could make it to Cerebro on her own, else he would have to get her too.
He had to keep moving.