tfln

[powerunleashed]

from here.

Jean was on the roof, actually, but that was only because she had recently discovered how to use telekinesis to power flight and being on the roof meant that nobody else could bother her. It was a clear night and, considering it was late spring, not cold so she had a perfect view of all the stars above her.

Her phone was abandoned beside her and she laid flat on her back, looking up at the constellations above her. There was Ursa Major, Ursa Minor. Sagittarius, Cancer, Cassiopeia. She'd learned them all as a younger girl and the names and shapes came back easily to her now.

The only difference between this night and the last time she'd been on the roof was that she was perfectly sober this time around.

Comments

[themancomesaround]

"You, lacking?" He's incredulous, and frankly, easy to bait into an argument. Even knowing he shouldn't be--even seeing the mix of hurt and anger marring her face. "One of us might be lacking, darlin', but it's not you. You've seen where I'm from."

Saying it, the words grinding out of him, is painful. Logan's spent weeks--months, more like--keeping himself from thinking about what if, giving himself all the arguments he's got stored up for her. Having to voice them, though, that's something else.

[powerunleashed]

"That's not your fault," Jean said quickly, face getting hot both from anger and embarrassment. She didn't really want to dissect what she felt and have it laid out for him to examine and cast aside. It was too precious to her for that and she wished she'd never said anything at all.

"You didn't ask to be kidnapped and experimented on. What memories I've found don't give me much of an idea of who you were before that but it doesn't matter. You're still a good man under everything. You just don't know the mundane facts. I don't need to know your parents' names and where you were born and your birthday to know I care about you."

[themancomesaround]

"Doesn't matter whose fault it was." His hands clench. It's nothing he'll ever like talking about, much less under circumstances like these.
"You know what I did after that? Cage fighting, Jean. And worse. I got from there to here beating the hell out of people for cash. I don't know shit outside fighting and pain and--I don't even know how old I am. If you think that's the kind of man you need, you're--"

Hell, he can't bring himself to say it. It's like throwing stones at a stray dog to drive it away. He doesn't want to have to put any of this out there, but if one of them has to have sense about it, it looks like it's going to have to be him.

[powerunleashed]

"Why don't you let me decide what I want and need instead of deciding for me?" Jean asked, narrowing her eyes at him a little.

"I really don't care about all that. You did what you needed to do to survive. It's what we all do. If Charles hadn't found me when I was little, God only knows what I would be doing on the streets to survive. Would you hold that against me? Would you judge me for that?"

Jean sighed and looked at him, voice softer. "Just tell me you don't feel the same way and I'll understand. You don't have to give me platitudes about how I'm some prize."

[themancomesaround]

He's quiet, rigid with the tension of finding the right answer to counter the frustration he can just about smell on her. Sure, she can decide what she wants and needs--but if she's deciding about him, doesn't he get a say here?

Turns out he does, and as soon as she demands a real answer from him--just tell me you don't feel the same way--he regrets wanting to offer any kind of rebuttal at all. She always cuts right to the marrow with these things, doesn't she? It's just part of who she is, probably the inevitable result of being able to see right into people's thoughts. No time for bullshit.

He sighs, and some of the fight goes out him, his shoulders slumping.
"Can't say that, kid. Don't do this to me."

That's the problem. He looks at her and can't forget the careful, deliberate touch of her hands. He came here, didn't he? Found her, found her people, tried to learn to live among them. And never once lost the memory of the first time somebody touched him gently--that he recalls, anyway.

[powerunleashed]

"I'm not a kid," Jean insisted. She was an adult, old enough to consent and decide what she wanted, and she felt like his choice of words was his way of trying to put distance between them. She didn't want distance. She wanted to push against those boundaries, blur them so that they could share space instead of dancing around one another.

Jean reached out and touched his hand lightly, just a brush of her fingertips against his skin. "I'm attracted to you. Being self-deprecating isn't really changing that for me, Logan. I've wanted you since I first went into your mind and it hasn't faded."

[themancomesaround]

He knows she's coming closer, and he doesn't move away. The last thing he wants is to escape her presence, however much he knows he should. Jean's always felt like calm to him; with her nearby, the world becomes understandable, livable. The empty spaces where memories should be fill in a little.

But when she speaks, he looks up sharply, unable to mask the expression in his eyes. There's naked longing in his face--when's the last time anyone's touched him? Christ, her hands are soft--but it's mixed with horror. "That was Alkali."

[powerunleashed]

"When I touched your mind, I saw past all that. I saw the man and the beast at once," Jean said, hurt and concerned that he would react so sharply to her admission. She was only trying to tell him how much she cared about him and how much she didn't care about his past.

She squeezed his hand briefly before letting it go, reached forward to touch his face in a mirror of that first touch.

"Just tell me you don't want me," she said, voice soft and pleading. "If you don't want me, tell me so that I don't have any hope."