While Lark didn’t want to bother Logan so early in the morning, his anxiety that it was only a matter of time till the syndicate found him was becoming too much to handle. “Hey, um... so the nightmares have been getting worse. I know it’s not like I’m clairvoyant or anything and it’s just my own brain messing with me, but still. I don’t know I just keep thinking maybe if my wards were stronger I’d have more peace of mind... and maybe actually get some sleep for once.” He sighed, he was always much more comfortable helping others than asking others for help. “I guess what I’m trying to ask is would you possibly be willing to lend a hand? I mean only if you have time, I know you’re super busy.”
It was about time Remy checked in on his teammate. Logan had been kicking around the Mousehole for a bit already but Remy hadn’t seemed to run into him yet so now he was seeking him out. He’d heard about the whole dead and coming back thing which seemed...very fitting for Logan, honestly, though he was ultimately glad the other man was all right. He would have to rib him, as he usually did, so long as he could see for himself that Logan was on the mend.
When he finally found Logan (searching a castle was no small endeavour) he happened to be in the gym which made Remy raise his eyebrows. “Bonjour, mon ami. Long time no see. Ain’t you s’posed t’ be takin’ it easy?” Working out sure wasn’t taking it easy but he knew that Logan wouldn’t be able to just sit still while waiting for his healing to jump start again.
The day had finally come, the performance he had been waiting for was due and Gray was ready for the show. He arrived at coven headquarters with tears already welling up in his eyes, hyperventilating, shaking... the works. They knocked on the door and, with their most panicked sounding voice, they called out, “Logan! It’s me, Cole. I don’t want any trouble,” though of course they did, “I just wanna talk.” The door opened to reveal the familiar blonde he’d known for as long as he could remember, “Oh Logan, thank god. I’ve been so scared.” God, it was so fun to play this part in particular, “I wasn’t sure if I should come back or just stay away, I don’t know what to do. I fucked up, Logan.” They flashed their teeth, as though it pained and disgusted them to be this creature, “I fucked up so bad and there’s no going back now. I know I don’t deserve your sympathy, but... please. Can I just explain myself?” Once upon a time Cole might have groveled in this way and Gray found it fascinating how easy it was to channel that weak boy again.
A good, very public company like Stark Industries had an image to uphold. A lot of this was managing the optics since the switching of the CEOs. Part of that was generating good will with people. If a company gives to charities strictly for the tax cut, they’re missing out on something so much more important. That wasn’t to say that Pepper was keenly aware of exactly how much they needed to give away to wave away some out landish tax bill to keep their stockholders happy.
So naturally, Pepper attempts to look involved and took ride outside of the City to Westchester County to visit the Institute for Mutant Education and Outreach. Plenty of articles cited that they were doing valuable work educating the gifted youth and ensuring that they had control over their varied and precious abilities. Frankly, something late in life abilities Pepper had gained made her almost envious.
There was a large endowment made to help potentially expand the curriculum around the country to see if there could be potential to help ensure that more could be done. Pepper was leaving the office after an enlightening discussion with Professor Xavier as she stood there carefully reading her emails to prioritize what to answer.
Kat and Logan were each others one and only Compulsory Heterosexual Experience at age 15 whilst drunk on vodka 'spritzers' that may or may not have been vodka that Kat added powdered bicarbonate of soda to and it was the worst and terrible and needless to say they never did it again
Prompts: “Can you shut up for five minutes, please?” and "I think you need stitches.“
I wrote this in like 20 minutes at work and I am so sorry in advance. It also ended up being longer than expected.
Oh, and also shout out to the man coming in and bleeding everywhere at reception today for the inspiration. :’)
Here we go…
—
“This is all your fault.”
“Wait, why is it my fault? It was your idea to come here!”
“Yeah, but I just wanted to do my usual shit of fucking, drinking, shooting… but, no, you wanted to go out exploring to look at all this dumb scenery. It’s not even real. If you wanted to go look at pretty rock formations and exquisite lakes or whatever we could have gone on vacation anywhere in the world where it’s, you know, actually real. Not here where it’s all artificial. This place is for having fun and fucking about, living out those childish boyhood dreams, not sitting around gazing at sunsets.“
You rolled your eyes at him as you slowly poured some more water over his blood-soaked hand. He hissed at the sting it gave him.
"Shit. Be careful would ya.”
You rolled your eyes at him again as you grabbed a few antibacterial cloths from the small first aid pack you had been carrying with you in your satchel and pressed one against the wound on his hand. You wiped at it clearing the newly pooling blood away as quickly as it appeared trying to get a good look at how bad it really was.
"I can’t believe I’m even letting you clean this up, I’ll probably end up needing it amputated with your medical skills…"
You huffed out an aggravated breath and looked up at him. You were trying to focus on cleaning up the massive gash he now had on his hand. He had been making a big scene and whining about how bored he was after you had finally managed to convince him to explore the park a bit more rather than spending your time in a saloon getting drunk, starting a shootout, drinking some more and then fucking your way through the night for the third day in a row. He hadn’t been paying any attention to where he was going, tripped backward over the uneven ground and tumbled down a ditch catching the palm of his hand on a jagged rock as he did so. You had spent a good portion of time laughing hysterically at him until you noticed the look of terror on his face as blood was pouring out of his hand and down his arm.
“Could you just shut up for 5 minutes, please? I’m trying to concentrate and you’re doing my fucking head in.”
You knew he was only talking incessantly due to being in pain and not actually being that good with the sight of blood, especially his own, but your usual patience with Logan chewing your ear off had evaporated once you had gone straight into medical mode.
You began to properly examine the wound on his hand now that you could see it more clearly with the majority of the blood cleared and the mud and gravel washed out of it.
“I’m doing your head in? You’re doing my head in.” He retaliated childishly.
“Are you even properly qualified to do this, anyway? I demand to see proof of all your medical qualifications once we get out of here in case I do lose my hand and need to sue.”
You bit your tongue and shook your head.
“You want me to leave you to clear this up yourself? Because I can. I’m happy to leave you here alone and continue on my vacation without you.” You shrugged up at him.
He laughed and stared down at you, amusement plastered over his face.
“Wow, your bedside manner is absolutely atrocious, you know that? Do you talk to all your patients like this?“
“Only the assholes like you.“ You smirked before you turned your attention back to his hand.
He let out a low chuckle which quickly changed into a yelp of pain followed by an “Ahh fuck, that stings!” as you pulled slightly at the skin surrounding his wound trying to figure out how deep it was, blood quickly pooling and filling the center of his palm again. You placed the wipe back on top of it and mopped it up and repeated the same thing a couple more times before frowning. You grabbed a few more wipes and held them tightly in place over the wound.
Logan had been quiet for more than 30 seconds and when you glanced up at him again you learned why - he was trying to mask the pain. His brows were furrowed tightly together and his bottom lip was being held captive between his teeth.
"Babe, I think you might need stitches.“ You said softly knowing he wouldn’t like the idea of that.
His teeth slowly scraped against the soft pink flesh as he released his bottom lip and he let out the breath he had been holding in.
"Fucking great…”
Your lips curled up into a small sympathetic smile and you looked back at his hand.
You wiped at the wound once more as you released the pressure you had been placing on it. You dropped the blood-soaked wipes to the floor and grabbed the roll of gauze dressing from your kit, placed the open end at his wrist and wrapped it round across his hand, going between his thumb and forefinger. You went around again twice more before changing and wrapping it around his wrist a couple of times before returning to the first step again.
Logan watched you intently in silence as you worked, the fingers of his free hand now playing mindlessly with the curls of your hair, twirling themselves around the strands that hung loosely over your shoulder and then untangling themselves, and then twirling again.
You wrapped the dressing around his hand and wrist until you reached the end of the reel. You tucked the end of it under one of the previous layers to hold it in place.
“That should stop you bleeding everywhere until we can get to a medical unit.” You gave Logan’s thigh a light squeeze of reassurance as you stood.
He pursed his lips as he watched you pack the first aid kit back up and pick up the blood-soaked wipes, shoving them into a side pocket of your satchel.
“Just so we’re clear… We are never doing your activities on vacation ever again. They’re clearly too dangerous."
Logan pointed out as he stood holding his wounded hand up and across his chest, his uninjured one holding it up at the elbow like he had broken the damn thing.
He started heading off down the gravel path kicking at the floor as he did so, a look of pure misery and disappointed plastered on his face like a child who had been denied something he really wanted and was now sulking. You shook your head at him and smiled as you threw your satchel over your shoulder and hurried to catch up with him.
As you reached him you rose up on to your tiptoes and placed a swift kiss on his cheek before falling into stride beside him. He attempted to wipe it off against his arm/shoulder in fake disgust.
"You know, you are easily the worst, and most annoying patient I have ever had.” You laughed.
He pouted and shot you a glare before a soft smile crept across his lips. He mumbled out a “fuck you” as he nudged you away from him as you walked along before grinning and pulling you back into him, throwing his good arm lazily over your shoulders and holding you against him.
“Thanks for patching me up.” He whispered into your hair and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
