Logan woke with a start, sweat rolling off him in sheets. Max moaned softly beside him, but didn't wake up.
What the hell?
It felt like they'd gotten to bed just minutes ago. Perhaps they had. Logan sat up, tossing the covers off and swinging his feet to the floor. Something chittered at the edge of his conscious thoughts – closer now than usual. It set his teeth on edge. He knew he wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Usually when he slept next to Max he was able to make it through a somewhat uneventful night of sleep. What was different this time? His captivity this time around seemed pretty run of the mill, from what he could remember.
Well – except for them blowing his chest cavity open this time; and he'd only felt the edges of pain due to the drugs they'd kept pumped into him. He could only imagine how astronomical the facility medical bill for narcotic supplies had been. It took an impressive amount to keep him doped effectively for any length of time. Logan ran a hand over his face and slowly stood up. He needed to find something to do to bleed the agitation off. Something was irritating the shit out of him, and it was compounded by the fact that he had a vague idea of what it actually was.
He pulled on a pair of jeans and a white tanktop and quietly headed downstairs.
As he walked through the sitting room, he spotted a figure sitting in a corner chair in the low light. Logan scented the air, recognizing Scott before he saw the outline of the kid's odd glasses. He was looking outside.
"Figured you'd be long asleep by now." Logan murmured, walking over to him.
Scott looked over and replied, "I seem to be having problems sleeping lately."
"That why you were up when we got in?" Logan asked, leaning back against the arm of the couch.
"Yeah." Scott's reply was quiet, almost a whisper.
The boy was brooding about something – something heavy.
"You still in the complex?" Logan tapped the side of his own head gently, wondering how much action the kid had seen before that.
Scott's expression was pinched as he smiled tightly.
"I can't seem to leave it. I can't stop seeing what they did to you."
Logan slid his hands in his pockets, his tone soft.
"You ever seen anythin' that rough before?"
Scott let out a halfhearted laugh.
"I've seen a lot of nasty shit in my time, Logan – but that.."
Now that surprised him. Logan found himself re-evaluating his opinion of Scott somewhat, hearing the truth behind his words. It made him wonder what the boy had gone through.
"How do you do it?" Scott asked, bewildered.
Logan thought about it for a moment, then rumbled, "How'd you get through – when the shit got thick for you?"
It was difficult to read the boy's expression without being able to see his eyes, but Logan could feel his scent shift, becoming bitter and acrid.
"I just did. No other way through it."
Scott's words were clipped, as if the memory – whatever it was, was still strong enough to bite.
Logan nodded and replied, "Same here."
Scott took a breath, then seemed to shut himself back down into that distant calculating persona that he always wore.
"Fair enough."
What the hell did the kid want? Some long sob story bonding session? He wasn't gonna get it. Logan leaned forward and growled, "It ain't magic, kid. You deal as best you can. That's it."
"I'd say your case is quite a bit more extreme than most." Scott snapped. Logan could tell that the boy was getting irritated, but didn't want to let it go.
"We all got our shit sandwiches to eat, Scott. After awhile, you either start trainin' yourself to start likin' shit or you buckle and break. 's the way it is."
Scott stiffened and replied, "Great outlook. You should write a book."
Logan laughed and crossed his arms, knowing how to help the kid now.
"You just need an ass kickin'. It'll set your head straight."
"And you think you're the man to do it?" Scott replied, his tone cold.
Logan grinned and growled, "I think you need yer bell rung clean and hard to clear your head out. It's a good distraction."
"Jean's right. You're psychotic." Scott stood up and started walking away.
Logan chuckled and murmured, "Yeah. She'd know."
Scott spun to face him and spat, "What would you know? You haven't been around any of us long enough to know a damned thing.
The boy advanced on him, getting angrier by the minute.
"You just decide to take off, leaving Max here – not even having the courtesy to tell her when you're coming back. Then – THEN you get yourself into a clusterfuck that you couldn't even get yourself out of. I may be a kid, mister, but at least I take a little fucking responsibility."
Logan raised an eyebrow and slid his hands back into his pockets. "Feel better now, Scooter?"
Scott stood before him, nearly quaking with rage. Oh yeah. The nickname was an easy poke.
Logan murmured, "All that anger? That fury? It's only gonna get worse unless you purge it. Boy."
Yeah, it was a cheap goading tactic, but the kid was gonna pop on somebody if he didn't try to bleed off some of the crap he was putting himself through. Besides, Logan was finding that he enjoyed baiting him.
Scott set his jaw and grated, "You want to end up in the infirmary again, fine with me."
He strode over to the elevator, jamming his thumb on the down button.
"What, outside ain't good enough?" Logan jeered. The kid was too easy.
"I can level a city block with little to no effort, and the beams would be too easily seen at night. If we're going to do this, we'll do it in a space equipped to handle it."
The elevator doors slid open and Scott walked inside.
"You coming?" he snapped, holding the doors open.
***
The two of them lay sprawled out on the asphalt of an apocalyptic looking street. The buildings around them had been totally decimated, as well as the surrounding automobiles and traffic lights. Rubble littered the streets and large gouges had been ripped out of the pavement in multiple locations.
Both were breathing heavy.
The kid was surprisingly good. At some point, they'd foregone the hand to hand and had started going almost all out on one another. It felt good to jump into combat against somebody that could hold their own against him, although Scott seemed the least likely candidate to do so. The combination of hand to hand coupled with the trick shots he was able to pull off through that damned visor were devastating, not to mention that the beams packed a hell of a punch.
Logan had to hand it to him – the boy could be a tightass prick, but he could definitely bring it.
It made him respect Scott a little more.
"Had enough?" Scott's voice was haggard, and Logan could tell that he'd completely run the kid dry. Scott would definitely feel it in the morning. The kid was covered in bruises and small cuts. Logan had tried to keep the physical damage to a minimum on him, not wanting to cause any injuries that'd take too long to heal. He'd taken what the kid had dished out, knowing that it'd be just be a momentary recovery for him.
It wasn't an equal playing field, but Logan had ended up with his own collection of cuts, gashes and bruises that were quickly healing as he looked over at the front end of a car that had been crushed flat.
Logan slowly sat up, placing his arms on his knees.
"Nah. I could still keep going. I just need a few minutes to recuperate, is all."
"Fucking hell." Scott muttered. "You're a damned machine."
Logan laughed and stood up, offering Scott a hand.
"Yeah. I'm the Energizer fucking bunny."
Scott took it and Logan hauled him up, looking up at Scott as the boy stood at his full height. The kid was at least six feet tall.
Scott paused for a moment, then said, "You may be short, but you're a mean little bastard."
Logan felt his lips pull back in the ghost of a smile.
"That headgear makes you look like an idiot."
"Fuck you." Scott snapped, turning to walk away, still breathing hard.
"You fight pretty damned good, Summers." Logan murmured.
Scott stopped and looked back at him, stunned.
"Don't let it go to your head." Logan turned away from him, walking over to a little keypad embedded in the wall.
"Thanks Logan."
Scott said it quietly enough that he probably thought that it hadn't been heard as he slipped out of the room.
Logan smiled and began working on figuring out how to program his own scenario.
MARVEL owns the copyright on their own characters, but I've fussed with and taken liberties with canon, and Max is my own creation.