Claws and Heartstrings: Logan Howlett | Wolverine ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི

Chapter Five

I was taken aback by the way Simon raised his voice at me. It wasn't like him, and the intensity of his reaction caught me off guard.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart before speaking. "Simon, you can't just lash out at me because you're angry," I said, my voice firm but trembling. "I get it, you're upset, but you have to trust me. I was only trying to help him recover some of his lost memories. That's all."

His eyes were stormy, his jaw tight with barely contained rage. "It didn't look like just talking, Lalia," he snapped, his voice dripping with accusation.

I reached out, my fingers brushing against his arm, but he jerked away as if my touch burned him. "It was just that," I insisted, my voice pleading.

"Simon, you're out of your depth here," I said, frustration and desperation mingling in my tone. "I'm asking you to trust me, but instead, you keep shutting me out and getting angry every time I try to help another mutant. It's always the same with you."

His eyes flashed with anger, but I forged ahead, my need for him to understand driving me. "Logan's been through hell, Simon. He doesn't remember his past, the procedure that bonded adamantium to his skeleton, or how he got his claws. He's tormented by his own mind and utterly lost. We've both been there, you know what that's like. So, put your jealousy aside and focus on what really matters."

Simon opened his mouth, ready to argue, but I held up a hand to silence him. "No, listen to me. You know I love you, but this isn't about us. It's about helping someone who desperately needs it. Logan is another mutant who needs guidance, someone to help him find peace. And whether you like it or not, the Professor chose me for this."

Simon's guilty look softened, and he opened his mouth to respond. But before he could say a word, a chilling scream pierced the air. "Help me! Somebody help!" The desperate cries echoed through the hallway, unmistakably coming from Logan's room. The sound was filled with such raw terror and pain that it sent shivers down my spine.

Without a moment's hesitation, we both sprinted out of the room, our previous argument forgotten in the face of this new emergency. The eerie atmosphere of the hallway seemed to close in on us, the shadows lengthening and the air growing colder with each step.

As we reached the door, Simon hesitated for a fraction of a second, his hand hovering over the handle. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the fear of what we might find on the other side. But there was no time for hesitation. I pushed past him and flung the door open, my eyes widening in horror. Logan stood frozen, his claws extended, blood dripping from their tips. Rogue lay on the floor, her face pale, clutching her chest where the claws had pierced through.

"Logan, what have you done?" I gasped, rushing to Rogue's side.

Logan's eyes were filled with panic and regret. "It was an accident," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to... I had a nightmare."

Rogue's breaths were shallow, and she looked up at me with pained eyes. "It was an accident," she whispered before her eyes fluttered closed, and she passed out.

I quickly placed my hands over her wounds. "Stay with me, okay? I'm here," I said, my voice steady even though my mind was racing with panic.

The room felt like it was closing in on us, the walls pressing in with an almost tangible weight. I quickly assessed Rogue's condition, noting the severity of her injuries. "The stab wound is in a critical location, and it's deep," I said, my voice filled with urgency and precision. "I need to close it now or she'll bleed out."

I gently pressed my fingers against Rogue's neck to check her pulse. It was weak and irregular, but still present. "Her pulse is thready, but she's hanging on," I murmured, more to myself as I focused on the task at hand.

Focusing on my magic, I channeled healing energy into her body, willing the wounds to close and the pain to subside. Scarlet light enveloped her chest, and I could feel the warmth of the magic working, knitting the torn flesh back together. But it wasn't easy; the wounds were deep, and the pain had to be immense.

Simon stood at the doorway, his face pale as he watched the scene unfold. "What do we do?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the fear in his eyes mirroring my own.

"I have to save her," I said firmly, not taking my eyes off Rogue. "Logan, get some water and towels. I need to clean the wounds to avoid infection."

Logan snapped out of his daze and rushed to fetch the supplies. He returned quickly, handing them to me, his hands shaking. "I'm so sorry," he muttered, his voice filled with anguish.

I didn't respond, my focus entirely on Rogue. I gently cleaned the blood away, my magic continuing to work. "Come on, you're gonna be okay," I whispered.

Each second felt like an eternity, the suspense unbearable as I watched her chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. Minutes felt like hours, but finally, the bleeding stopped, and Rogue's breathing became more regular.

I let out a sigh of relief, my hands trembling from the effort. "She's stable," I said, looking up at Logan and Simon. The room was eerily silent, the only sound the faint, steady rhythm of Rogue's breathing, a fragile reminder of the life we had just fought to save.

I sighed out, feeling the stress beginning to subside as Rogue's breathing stabilized. "We need to get her looked at," I said, trying to keep my voice steady but urgent. "Take her to the lab now."

Logan nodded, his face etched with guilt. "I'll carry her," he said softly, gently lifting Rogue into his arms.

We rushed through the halls, our footsteps echoing off the walls like a relentless drumbeat. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows, heightening the tension with every step. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a reminder of the urgency of the situation. As we turned corner after corner, the sterile smell of the lab grew stronger, but so did my anxiety.