Call of Duty Oneshots

Wrestling With the Past (Requested Logan)

"Stay right with me. Got it?" 

"Yes," you nodded and moved after Logan out of the ring. "What are you doing here?"

"Protecting innocent from the shooting."

"Me, you mean?" 

He was quiet as he shot down the attackers. "Perhaps."

You completely shocked, barely able to form words, as Logan escorted you to a safer part of the stadium. People were screaming and running left to right, attempting to find a way out of their own chaos. Logan moved through them like a rock standing inert in the ocean...unaffected and strong. 

"I don't understand," you finally spoke after reaching a quieter part of the arena. "Why me?"

"Your popularity has gained you enemies," Logan explained quietly, continuing to move to where he needed to take you. "These people want you dead. To make a statement."

You didn't say anything, but your steps faltered as you listened to him. Kill you? Who were these crazy people? 

"Hey," Logan glanced over his shoulder and then moved back to where you stood. "I'm going to get you out of here, understand? I won't let anything happen to you." 

You only gazed into his focused eyes, so different from the last time you'd seen him. His gloved fingers suddenly grasped your shoulder, squeezing in reassurance. You glanced at the motion. 

"How can I trust that?"

Logan's eyes narrowed. "Did I ever let anything happen to you before?" 

To the reminder of what you once were to him, you felt his fingers grow lighter. They trailed down your hand, also clasping it gently. You let out a breath, looking into his firm gaze. 

"We need to move." 

You nodded again, slowly, and then let him guide you forwards. Logan released your after a short while, hearing shouts in a nearby hallway. Still, he stayed close enough for you to clutch onto him if you needed to. 

Just over the three years you hadn't seen him, Logan had grown. Not taller, but thicker. He was more muscular under the clothes he wore and his eyes held more wisdom than you'd ever seen in anyone. It was as if he already knew what you were going to say, but let you say it anyways- to be polite. 

As the two of you neared escape, Logan drew further away. He went to open the door and your spirits lifted. As he turned to face you, however, his eyes went cold. 

You were suddenly in a choke hold, your breath being shrunk into little gasps of shock, as the soldier attacked. Logan didn't move- he couldn't really- but his hand twitched on his rifle.

"Leave her and you can live," the soldier told Logan with a hiss, gripping you tighter. 

Logan's eyes darted between you and the enemy, his eyes hinting at nothing he was potentially planning. You didn't want to wait any longer for him to figure it out. For the first time, you'd have to take things into your own hands. 

With your free hand, you knocked the rifle away from your side. The soldier was unprepared, letting out a surprised grunt as you yanked his arm out from your throat just far enough for you to slip away. In a rush to finish the job, you spun and punched the soldier in the face, the force of the hit snapping his neck into whiplash. 

The soldier screamed in agony, his nose gushing blood. He reached to grab you, to reprimand what you'd done. You were quicker on your toes, lifting a foot to kick his side hard enough to make him collapse. 

When he dramatically finished doing so, you picked up his rifle and butted it into the side of his head. He was out like a light in seconds, the blood pooling on the smooth concrete from his nose. You let out a breath.