Every time before a match you had to hurt yourself in some way. It was entirely accidental, whether it be a simple fall or banging of the elbow on something sharp. No matter what happened you went into the ring with pain.
However, you had never lost a match. Out of six major fights, not once had you been defeated- even with something that had managed to jab you beforehand. It was like the spots made them a target, distracting your opponents from the rest of you, which allowed you to easily battle their moves.
This one was supposed to be one of the best match ups, you versus the most experienced woman you'd ever known. You merely remembered looking up to her when you were younger. Now you were fighting her. During the minutes on the ring, she was an enemy.
You began your way out towards the ring, the crowd's noise raising to discomforting levels. Your opponent was already ready in the ring, glaring you down as you walked. You felt her check for any weakness.
Your wrapped hand was the only sign of what you'd done to yourself behind the scenes. A simple slice to the palm because of rushing to get ready.
You reached the ring and entered with a final glance at your trainer, the mentor who'd gotten you this far. He gave you a thumbs up- his signature- and then retreated to where he needed to. You let out a breath at the same time and completely entered the mats.
The woman had already pinpointed her areas to target, you felt those spots burning from her consistent gazes. In an unexpected gulp of nervousness, you prepared yourself. It was important to focus on not only her weaknesses, but her strengths.
Both would help you win.
You braced after knocking knuckles with her, eyes trained on hers for signs of movement. She watched you even more fiercely, her older face painted with the wisdom of her past matches. In front of her, you felt completely inexperienced.
Your eyes darted to the right to see your trainer wording advice through his lips. Just behind him, however, your eyes caught on to another sight. It made your breath go weak, your legs wobbly.
Logan Walker was standing with a VIP pass, his eyes trained steadily on you. Though you hadn't seen him in years, you knew it was him. Why he was here confused you, but it also made you experience a strange form of relief. Your lost best friend was still alive and was here to watch you fight in a huge match.
Your eyes darted back to your opponent. Now she was bracing to attack on the mark of the referee. It was at any moment, the signal would show and the match would begin.
Before the bell went off, however, everything grew stark white. You were blinded by the brightness, the ringing in your ears, and stumbled backwards. Screams began to erupt through your ringing ears, also bringing in fainter sounds than were much more inhuman.
Gunshots.
You moved to find some sort of cover despite blurry vision and little hearing, but your legs only tangled up. As you fell, someone harshly landed on top of you. A dead body likely.
Your mouth opened in a tiny scream as you wiggled to get away from the death. Suddenly, the body wasn't dead, but alive, and they were telling you it was going to be okay, that he had you. Your eyes flashed open to the final reassuring words.
"Logan?" you whispered.
His eyes were the only thing you saw with his appearing mask. Dark with a white ghost-like face, the mask shielded everything you knew about Logan. You gripped his fit bicep, feeling him cautiously drag you up.
"We gotta get out of here," he stated, looking around.
As more of your vision cleared, you realized he was holding an automatic rifle and was prepared with other gadgets on his waist. Around the two of you, bodies were flailing and people were frantically trying to escape. Those who hadn't...well they were close enough to reek of death in your nose.
"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.
That hadn't taken you thirty seconds. If it'd been a match, it would've been a damn good one on your part.
Facing Logan, you held back a grin despite the circumstances. If it weren't for the mask you were sure his jaw may have hit the floor. His eyes were wide in watching you, shocked even.
"Is that our way out?" you wondered, looking past him to the door he'd almost gone through.
Logan cleared his throat, nodding. "The chopper should get here at any moment."
You walked towards him, a strange excitement overtaking your emotions. You were going to get out alive and well and it was all because of the man in front of you. Logan's gaze dropped slightly, as if he'd read your very thoughts.
"Logan," you reached around to shortly hug him. "Thank you."
He didn't return the hug nor did he need to. If anything he grew stiffer against your embrace, uncomfortable or confused. You released him too quickly to let him suffer any longer and then looked expectantly towards the doors.
Logan said nothing as he spun and went through them, checking corners of the courtyard in defense. You entered more slowly, keeping an eye on whether or not you'd have to defend yourself again. The chances weren't likely.
"Kick, get us out of here," Logan radioed in to a comrade.
"How long will he be?" you crossed your arms, the chill of the night air freezing you in the tank top and spandex you wore.
Logan was wearing a t-shirt, but the cold barely bothered him...or so it seemed. You could already tell he was good at masking things. You eyed the flexing of his muscles as he shifted the rifle in his hands. Yes...he was definitely in better shape than before.
"Not long."
You swallowed and looked around at the empty courtyard. Though shots and screams were still going on, none of them were close. It was likely that Logan had taken you out a back way to avoid you getting caught up in the front part of the stadium. It was there that these crazy people would've killed you.
"Thank you," you breathed again.
"You said that."
"I know, but," you paused, "you saved my life. I don't think there's a maximum on how many times I should say that."
Logan's eyes held amusement as he lifted his mask up to rub his face. "There's still no need to thank me."
"I haven't seen you in years and all of a sudden you show up to save my life? Yeah, that deserves a ton of thanking."
"I don't think that you have it right-"
"Oh shut up, would you?" you stepped closer, hoping for body warmth.
"Right," his eyes darkened, "now I remember why we split."
"We split because we had different lives," you argued. "You wanted something different."
"No, you wanted to focus on this career of yours."
"Clearly you wanted to your own thing too!"
You didn't realize how close the two of your were until you blinked out of frustration. Logan kept the same neutral expression, letting you grow more and more angry. It was this skill of his that always made you pissed. Yet you also appreciated it.
"Like I said, different lives!" you growled.
Logan smirked and then suddenly grasped your waist. You let out a gasp, the opening of your mouth giving him the perfect opportunity for his next move.
His kiss was raw and powerful. A mixture of lust and love and longing. Regret was stitched into his warm lips. A rush of nostalgia drowned you like a wave.
When he pulled away, his eyes were soft and exposed so much emotion that you found yourself unsteady. You gripped his shirt, ignoring the sound of an incoming helicopter.
"I never wanted something different," Logan whispered, a gloved hand brushing against your cheek. "I've only always wanted you, Y/N."
Your heart came undone before you, tears welling at your eyes. Every word he spoke was true and a reflection to your own thoughts. You missed him.
Logan fully released you, looking upwards at the small chopper landing. "We'll take you back to our base for a few days to make sure things settle. Then you can go back to your routines in life."
A part of you didn't want that.
Getting onto the chopper, you sat across from Logan. You avoided looking at him as the pilot lifted off. It wouldn't be long before the two of you would not know where to find one another. Well, wrong. Logan would always have a way of finding you, just not vise versa.
"Everything okay?"
You forced a tiny smile. "I just don't know what I'm going to do for these next few days."
"I can think of plenty," his voice held an edge of something that made your gut twist in nervousness.
You looked away from him again and this time Logan got up to come sit next to you. Squeezed your left knee, gazing at the side of your face for answers. God, he was too good at reading you.
"Nothing is wrong," you lied.
"I can always tell," he was patient.
You sighed. "Leaving after spending time around you isn't going to be easy."
"No?"
You shook your head.
"Then maybe we won't have to leave each other like last time."
Your e/c eyes darted to him.
"Perhaps we should try again," Logan murmured, looking at the way his fingers gripped your knee. "What do you say?"
"I would never say no to you."
"Except for when I want something."
"Except for then," you smiled.
Logan was suddenly kissing you again, his needy motions making you let out a whimper. The noise from the back of your throat threw Logan off the edge, making him steady himself against the back of the seat.
"I need more than a few days."
You chuckled, stroking his jaw. "What could I do around there, hm?"
"With what you showed me tonight, you could train in hand to hand," Logan thought a moment. "I'm sure there are other things."
You smiled. "Maybe I'll consider. Under one condition."
Logan cocked a questioning eyebrow.
"You let me thank you as many times as I want."
Logan only chuckled and brought you into a tight side-hug. And though you were still cold, his arm wrapping across your shoulders generated a warmth that you hadn't felt in a very long time.
~~~
I love Logan even though he was never given actual characteristics. It's fun making up a personality for him and trying to imagine what he looks like. Maybe similar to Hesh?
Anyways, I have a long list of requests at the moment, so if you request it's only getting written down (as of now).
The next few will include the following characters: Nikolai (MW2/3), Roach (MW2), Kick (Ghosts), Joker (AW), and Pierson (WW2). Not in that order specifically! :)
Hope you enjoyed!
~MS~