A Beer And A Memory || Laura and Logan
Losing your memory once was one thing. But twice? That was just unfair. All those years just...gone. Logan barely remembered anything anymore, and what he did remember was too fuzzy for him to sort through. Although there were times when he just...knew there was something that he should remember. Like when he was with Jean. There was something there but he just couldn't quite grasp it. It was like it was just out of reach and he needed something to reach the extra few inches but....
That was how his past felt now as well. He didn't remember it feeling like this from the piece of his life he could remember. He always remembered it just being something that was there. Something that he could never even fully comprehend but now...now it was different. He knew something about it but it was like Jean...just out of reach. But it was even worse. There was something very important about that memory. More than one thing. That moment was who he was and yet he couldn't remember it. That moment held answers that he needed. Answers that might even help him remember things about his current situation. Although he had a feeling that was a big leap. But still. One chunk of his life missing was better than two. Because at the moment it was hard to even remember who he was supposed to be. Who other's knew him as. "The Wolverine." Such a weird name. And Logan. That wasn't his name. He knew it wasn't. And yet he had dog tags saying as such. It just created more questions. And Logan didn't have any answers.
The walk even from his room to the kitchen was an agonizing experience. Pictures littering the walls of people who he had never seen before this last week. Even a few pictures of himself. And yet he recalled none of this. As far as he knew he would never be a person to be so revered in a situation, a school nonetheless, enough to have a picture on the wall. But there they were. Littered around here and there, looking the same as he had now. Although he did remember why that was. He never really "aged" so to speak. In all honesty he was as close to an immortal as was likely possible. Just another part of his mutation he supposed. Whatever his mutation was. With so much of his life missing, he didn't really know if he was even born with his mutation or not. Although he did like to believe so. It wasn't a good feeling to imagine that he was made this way as an experiment.
That word hit all the wrong nerves. Whatever happened must have been something like that. But to what extent? And to what reason? More and more questions. Less and less answers. Logan sighed, trying to avoid the beady eyes of the portraits, hating the fact his room was so far away from the kitchen. Maybe he could trade someone sometime soon. Avoid this hallway all together. Although there were pictures everywhere. And statues. And plaques. And a million other things. The fact of the matter was that everything in this house reminded of his forgotten past, just not enough to make him remember his forgotten past. And that was the frustrating part.
He pushed open the door to the kitchen, not caring about the few people in there--not caring about anything to be honest. He opened the fridge, the last of his beers sitting on the second shelf. Making a mental note to get some more tomorrow he reached forwards wrapping his hands around the cold beer....and a warm hand. He followed the arm up to the body reaching for his beer. He was in no mood for this. This was his beer. His money. And he was going to fucking drink it.
"Get your hand...off this beer." Logan's claws extended from his hand not grasping the beer and found their way slowly to the woman's throat, placing them just an inch away from it. "Or else."
