I think trilogy Logan would be such a sweetheart , but at the same time I feel he'd be on edge , not remembering everything n all. Like he'd flirt, tease, hell maybe be reaaally bold, the excitement makes his heart quicken, your reactions make it swell.
Those gorgeous hazel eyes ,, just adoring your face, watching your facial muscles flex, your nose scrunch, the shy glances at him when you notice he's staring.
In X-Men he goes "read my thoughts // ...why? Scared you might like it?" /Paraphrased , and when I say, oh dear God, my heart can't handle his personality. That sickening sweet tone and the way his lips curl to a smile after. Uugggh,,
I'm a soft bitch LMFAO, have me on my knees type beat.
I feel like after xmen1 He'd be scared to sleep in the same bed as his partner, worried he'll hurt them in his sleep. But he knows he can't be without them all night, wanting to feel their skin against his fingertips, waking from a nightmare and they're right there ; safe, asleep , breathing , alive .
" I'm sorry, doll. I don't wanna hurt ya.. " and his heart breaking when you sigh and nod - of course you understand. You know how it is for him.
He'd give you a sweet kiss, nipping your lips playfully. Maybe chuckling at your gasps, wrapping his arm around your body, the other hand cupping your cheek.
" so sweet f'me. " He'd swallow your gasps, caressing his thumb again your cheek, he's in too deep, one more kiss...
You kiss him, hands buried in his hair, gently tugging at the scalp. His body heat makes your head swim, you can feel his heart pounding against your chest. He moves with you, his tongue dancing with yours so gently. One of your hands slip, down his neck to rest on his abdomen, a low hum rumbles in his throat.
He drags his hand up your nighttime shirt, calloused fingertips dancing against your back. You instinctively shift closer to him, ticklish. He pulls back from your kiss, opening his eyes to meet yours.
" I guess I should let you get to bed, yeah? " He mumbles against your lips. Your eyebrows furrow.
"you won't hurt me .." you whisper back. It was his turn to furrow his brows.
" ... " He sighs, he knows you trust him. But he can't trust himself.
" maybe another night, " he presses his forehead against yours, kissing your nose, breathing your scent before you retreat to your room.
It was more than she could have asked for and the last thing she expected the night Charles Xavier appeared outside her van, hidden in the corner of an abandoned parking lot. He offered her an opportunity and a future. A chance to lie down roots without the threat of having to leave after a few months. Told her they had room for her and even a job.
Story starts after X2 but closer to X3 and into until the end, with a twist. Mixed with sugar, spice, and everything nice!
Ao3 / Ch 1 / Ch 5
A/N:
Tumblr's seeing this chapter first since Ao3 is getting updated and I was too impatient. Someone has to see this chapter! This is my favorite of the series so far so I hope you enjoy it as well! Thanks for all the love! <3
WC: 7.9k
Warnings: Violence and Blood
Spring had come and gone as the rainy days made way for the start of sunny summer days. The weather was perfect according to Logan. The sun’s warmth was a pleasant contrast to the cool air, hinting at the sweltering days to come. It’d also been quite some time since he’d last appeared at the academy. The flowers were in full bloom, and the landscape was bright. After things became complicated during his last visit, he’d isolated himself. He stayed away until he could get himself back under a familiar sense of detachment, but had continued his duty from a distance, consistent in scanning the surrounding area. It was easy, as his charge had never left the estate, and simple enough to keep himself away from her. He’d concluded it was about time to call his job done, so he’d returned to close out his business with Charles. It’d been several months since Serena had arrived, and no one had come for her or poked around where they shouldn’t have. If anyone had wanted her, Logan figured they would’ve made a move by now, so he was ready to move on and go about his own business again.
He took a long drag of his cigar as he made his way around the grounds. He’d come during the weekend, and almost everyone was outside. It was a beautiful day, so it made sense to take advantage of the dry ground after a long, wet spring. Making his way through, he received many friendly greetings, the smells of food and drink swirling around him. Logan responded with a brief nod or a mumbled greeting.
He’d figured he could check on Rogue before meeting with The Professor and see how she was. He knew things had been rocky between her and Bobby, and it hadn’t helped that they hadn’t left off on the best foot last he’d seen her. The last time they spoke, his words were sharp and cutting. The interaction remains a cringe-worthy memory that still causes him physical discomfort. He’d been in an irritable state when he’d questioned her regarding whether she had other friends she could talk to death. Her mouth had snapped shut, her eyes welling with tears as she gave him an expression of such hurt that he regretted his words in an instant and began a hasty apology. She cursed him, then left him to deal with the repercussions of what he had said.
Logan was everything she accused him of being and more. He hadn’t been fair to her; she was just in the wrong place at the right time. After multiple uncomfortable interactions with Serena, his emotions were already unstable. He’d been itching for a confrontation, and no matter how many drinks he had, he was still brimming with restless energy. His usual outlet for his irritation, Scott, had been missing in action and unavailable to throw vicious barbs at. It was like he was a ticking time bomb and knew then he had to leave lest he hurt anyone else.
It appeared that his only talent was stirring up anger or evoking tears, but he had a deep sense of duty and obligation towards Marie, as he was the one who brought her here. Logan was aware of how Marie felt about him and understood she thought of him as a source of stability, but it didn’t help that he was always running off on her. She and everyone else.
He could hear Jean now. “The good guy sticks around, Logan.”
He puffed his cigar and watched the smoke dissipate, blowing away as a gentle breeze swept by. He didn’t know whether to laugh or break something. The statement’s continued truth made his knuckles itch. He was always chasing after something and missing what was in front of him.
“What’re you looking for, Logan?” Jean had asked him.
He was just going to upset himself at this point. He was craving a frosty beer, but before that, he had an apology to deliver and made a concentrated effort to pick up Marie’s scent amongst the dozens of others. Marie’s scent drifted to him across the open field as he approached from the rear of the building. She stood against the brick wall amidst dozens of discarded, sun-bleached outdoor toys. He noticed her jotting things down on a clipboard, a small smile playing on her lips as she worked, and the surrounding air was light.
He put out his cigar since he couldn’t help messing with her as he crept up from behind her. “Hey kid.”
A startled yelp escaped her lips, and she surged into the air, whirling around to yell at him before realizing who it was. “Logan!”
She embraced him with caution, as she always had, but surprised him with her enthusiastic welcome, which he didn’t mind. He could see the sunshine was doing her good.
“You’re right on time! We need the extra help.”
He had some confusion and reluctance at being volunteered. “What’s going on?”
“The Professor set off with Storm to meet with some parents out of state, so we’ve been setting up some activities for the kids. Everyone’s been itchin’ to get outside now that the rain’s taken a break, but we might’ve underestimated how many grown-ups we’d need to watch everyone.”
He smiled, glad to hear the soft laughter that accompanied her explanation.
“Those of us who are older are helping wrangle the little ankle-biters. You might have seen Bobby or even Piotr chasing them around!”
He’d noticed there had been more kids than usual outside at once and, in typical Logan fashion, he couldn’t help but poke fun at her.
“Oho! So you’re Santa’s Little Helper, are you?”
With his arms folded, he gave her a playful, anticipating expression. She became bashful and started whining. The familiar sound brought a chuckle out of him.
“Logan, c’mon, I have to be responsible at some point. I can’t depend on you guys to take care of me forever!”
She was being lighthearted, but it wasn’t an answer he expected from her, and it touched a sore spot he didn’t know he had. Even with the childish stomp that accompanied her statement, Marie was getting older. The kids were getting older. They were X-Men in their own right and even had their own suits. Logan tried pinpointing how long it’d been since they had arrived together, and a familiar melancholy crept into his psyche. To avoid ruining the mood, he covered his lapse in conversation with a cough and changed the topic.
“So, Teacher’s Pet. Who’re you helping today?”
Something akin to the sound of a stampede answered his question. The many squeals of children reached his ears before he’d seen the group round the side of the building. They were loud enough for even Marie to hear them coming.
“I was wondering what they’d gotten up to!”.
Then, as the thunderous stampede drew nearer, a sound cut through the roar—high, clear, like wind chimes in a lively breeze. He’d heard nothing like it—lush, vibrant laughter, ringing with joyous abandon. The sound washed over him, a warm sensation flooding his chest with unexpected euphoria. A profound sense of peace settled over him, soft and calming.
“I swear, she has the prettiest laugh. It just makes you feel all warm and cozy inside.”
He listened to Marie release a content sigh before continuing.
“You never want it to stop.”
Her comment made him turn to her with a sudden sharp intensity. She’d taken the words right out of his head. Out of the corner of her eye, Marie caught Logan’s confused gaze, his eyes wide with questioning. The realization clicked for her, and she made a face.
“Jeez, Logan, you’re just so… ugh, I just can’t with you sometimes.”
Logan didn't understand the language of teenage girls, but he thought he should be offended.
Then he saw her and understood some of Marie’s frustration. He knew who it was but hadn’t expected it as he’d heard nothing close to the sound that was coming from her now. Surprised would be an understatement. It was the last person he wanted to see and the one he wanted to avoid most. He hadn’t expected her to be out, let alone amongst others, and was hoping he’d be able to make a clean escape after sorting out his loose ends. He wasn’t planning to see her ever again, but there Serena was, leading a stampeding group of children.
As if she were born from the sun itself, she was a vision. The sun favoured her bronze skin that glistened under its kisses, rich with colour. Radiant and captivating, with eyes that sparkled like stars. Her loose, wild coils framed a dazzling smile, their dark spirals catching the rays of the sun. The air vibrated with shouts of “Miss Mar!”, a cacophony of excited voices, sharp and ecstatic. A troop of children of various ages chased after her. As they gained on her, she released an unexpected joyful squeal that sent a thrilling shiver down his spine. The hairs on his neck prickled with delightful, anticipatory excitement; a physical manifestation of his reaction to her elation.
She ran like her life depended on it, her hair tossing back and forth as she checked on her “pursuers”. Her scent was a sweet wave on the wind as it came over him, a vivid promise of happiness he hadn’t known he craved. Entranced, his eyes fluttered as he breathed in the intoxicating fragrance. Throat dry. A simple fitted tee, damp with sweat, and loose-fitting jeans hung low on her waist as she ran barefoot. The pounding of her strides against the grassy field matched the frantic rhythm of his racing heart.
He watched from afar, jaw tight, as her rapid, ragged breaths and heaving chest spurred a chase within him. With every muscle screaming for him to catch her, the sensation of his clenched fists was a burning pressure against his palms. Logan longed to hear her squeal in delight against his ear, just like she had before, as he pinned her to the ground with the weight of his body and—
“Logan!” Marie shrieked.
The spell that had held him captive shattered, leaving him disoriented. He blinked, trying to clear his head, as he caught a pointed stare from Marie. His annoyance at her outburst turned to confusion as her stern, disapproving glare hit him like an icy wave. He was thankful that she couldn’t read his mind.
“Don’t.” She said.
A frown etched itself onto his face; he didn’t understand. He wanted to respond, but his mouth was like cotton, and no words formed.
Her face morphed into something resembling concern, and she sounded dejected. “Just don’t, Logan.”
She thrust the pen and clipboard into his chest as he scrambled to grab hold. She’d turned, giving him one last unreadable glance over her shoulder before bounding off after Serena and the kids. He hadn’t noticed, but at some point Serena must’ve fallen because she was poking her head out from under a mound of children. As endless giggles erupted from the children, Marie worked to untangle everyone. Some children were refusing to let Serena go. He watched as Serena collected herself, all smiles, as Marie discussed with her what activities she thought would be great to put together. He dropped the supplies in favor of reigniting his cigar to deal with his mounting irritation.
Despite a twinge of resentment, Logan wanted to wish Serena happiness. His reaction brought him to wonder why he had expected her to continue keeping to herself. As if she were a secret garden, hidden and lovely, known only to him. Doubts clouded his mind as he questioned how similar they truly were, the differences becoming increasingly apparent. He knew he had no right to question what was a good life that she’d built here at the school, but in a deep dark part of his mind he expected her to wallow in self-pity for the rest of her days. Develop vices, become bitter, and resign herself to growing old alone.
Logan expected her to be just like him. She was supposed to have burdens so heavy that she buckled under the weight. Have endless excuses when people tried to engage her, stayed away, and continued running away. Make the same choices he had, because it’d justify that he had no other choice but to be the way he was. Seeing her joy and the life she was building made him angry with himself. It weakened him, and if Logan disliked anything, it was being helpless. The weight he carried made him feel trapped; demons he could barely remember haunted and crippled him. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t just accept this life, make the most of his circumstances, and appreciate his blessings. Thus, in his endless search for more, he’d resigned himself to a life of howling at the moon.
---
Serena was thankful for the extra set of hands today. Marie had been invaluable in keeping her as well as the children on track. She was powerless against their innocent gazes when they asked her for favors. She should’ve switched with Kurt or Scott and stuck with the bigger kids. The older teens enjoyed having an outlet for their powers, and both men could wear them down, incorporating team events that fed their competitive natures. Meanwhile, they assigned her the youngsters and Marie as a teacher’s aide. Yet, they had underestimated the chaotic energy of the youngest mutants. Somehow, she had ended up in several games of tag, and it had become her versus all of them. If it wore them out to chase her, she didn’t mind paying the cost of breaking a light sweat. It was what she originally thought, but they were intent on nipping at her heels and triggering her flight response. It seemed her shrieks spurred the children on to keep chasing her; they were the cutest tormentors she’d ever known.
The past several weeks had been a whirlwind of exhausting efforts to change and become a better version of herself. Now that she had so many that were depending on her. After her personal declaration to rise above her slump and make a change, she pushed herself outside her comfort zone. She left her classroom for once and met with all the children that were a part of the school. During that time, Theresa had become her buffer and impromptu translator. Serena was never without her speech device, but Theresa enjoyed speaking up for her and introducing her to everyone they came across. It hadn’t bothered her; in fact, it eased her interactions with others and calmed her nerves. She admired the young girl and was humbled to admit she was the one being taught lessons.
Theresa did a wonderful job of providing Serena with constant reminders that everyone was safe in her presence, including the children. That her sadness or joy would not hurt them if vocalized. It was difficult. More than a decade of suppression had imprinted itself on her heart and mind. But being around others and taking small steps towards some form of freedom from her deep-rooted fears helped her progress. It helped that everyone was so easy to love and seemed as if they were waiting for her to come in her own time. Maybe every person experienced this on arrival, recognizing it in her.
To further build relationships, she reached out to Ororo and Scott, leaving aside any previous assumptions. It was the best decision she’d made. Confident, strong, and intelligent, Ororo was everything she aspired to be; The Professor’s trust made perfect sense. She was more than happy to connect on a more consistent basis with Serena and apologized for not being able to be with her more because of her responsibilities. Serena was proud to announce their shared commitment to spending more time together, which also included collaboratively creating lesson plans.
Her lack of power usage limited her interactions with Scott, yet she still found learning from him fascinating. Despite his somber disposition, she found peace in sharing his company. During his teaching, his charisma sometimes shone through, allowing her to see glimpses of the man others described him to be. The pain of his lost love had consumed him, leaving him a shell of his former self, and she understood his despair.
It’d taken months, but she’d learned more about the legacy of Jean Grey. Since becoming close with Theresa, the girl was safe enough to confide in Serena with details others wouldn’t even whisper. Smart, beautiful, and kind, courageous and brave, it seemed her accolades went on and on. Serena saw the shine in Theresa’s eyes, bright with admiration, before they welled with tears, and she asked no more.
More details emerged from Kurt. His words flowed freely, a stark contrast to the more cautious members, possibly because of his recent arrival. He expressed his profound admiration, his words laced with a quiet sorrow, detailing the many prayers he’d said for her soul, and that he hoped Scott would find a measure of peace after losing his fiancée. He recounted the tale of her bravery, the refusal of help and her self-sacrifice. It helped her understand everyone just a little better, especially the X-Men that risked their lives alongside her. The school mourned the loss of an admirable woman, a genuine part of their heart.
However, that wasn’t all she learned; Marie had confided some interesting information to her. Whether it was because of her quiet nature or a need for unburdening, people were at ease when sharing their personal secrets with her. Marie’s confession about her old childish crush on Logan, while dating Bobby, had sent Serena’s eyebrows skyrocketing, and both of them into a fit of giggles. Serena had no room to judge but believed it was her duty as her elder to give her a disapproving look, before waggling her brows and reigniting their chorus of giggles.
What was most interesting was the wistful expression and admission Marie had given her that, in Logan’s eyes, none could compare to Jean. Now that was a revelation she hadn’t been expecting. Marie was frantic and apologetic after realizing she’d let it slip, swearing Serena to secrecy, also to never bring it up to Logan. The dots began connecting. It would also explain the tense, almost hostile relationship between Logan and Scott, as well as Logan’s agonizing indecision about whether to stay or leave. She mused that only someone as captivating and unforgettable as Jean could stir Logan’s heart. A thought that made her regret never having met her.
In the present, she found herself distracted as Marie relayed instructions to her. The scent of Logan’s cigar, a rich blend of tobacco and spice, wafted towards her as she caught sight of him in the distance. He’d get an earful from The Professor if he were here. With time, she’d let go of any resentment, especially since so many close companions now surrounded her. There was no reason to be bitter when she was no longer alone.
She raised her hand in greeting, offering a friendly smile. He caught her gaze and then, to her astonishment, ignored her, crushing his cigar under his heel. He turned and walked toward the school entrance, disregarding her. A stinging hurt filled Serena as Marie’s temper erupted, a whirlwind of furious words and gestures directed at his boorish behavior.
“What the hell is his problem?! Stay here with the kids. I’ll go handle him.”
Not giving Serena any time to react or object, she rushed after him, leaving Serena with no option but to watch her go. While he'd been rude to her, it wasn’t worth bothering with him when he was in a mood. That Marie was just as feisty didn’t make things easier, but she thought Marie could offer him a good dose of Southern hospitality and didn’t chase after her. She did as Marie had asked and monitored the children until she had returned to take on the next activity.
---
Sometimes Logan wondered if a part of him still lived within Marie when she’d taken his power. Especially his attitude, because, damned if she didn’t follow him into the school hot like hell on wheels. He heard her before she even called out to him as he made his way into the academy.
“Logan! Logan! What the hell was that?! Logan! STOP!”
He did as she said, stopping on a dime, knowing what would come next.
There was a light pressure on his back as he heard the girl exclaim with a pained shout as she slammed face first into him. A sardonic smirk graced his lips as he turned to her. She muttered curses under her breath as she rubbed her face with a gloved hand.
“This isn’t a joke, Logan! Why are you such an asshole!”
She shouted at him, turning red with anger he hadn’t seen from her in a while.
“Why would you treat her like that? Serena’s a good person, Logan! She ain’t done anything to you, I know that!”
Logan wanted to interrupt and correct her, but knew it’d sound like a lame excuse in the face of her anger.
“Serena cares! She tries to be with every one of us and see us, Logan! Don’t you get it?”
Her eyes looked sad, though her anger burned hot and her rage filled his senses. Logan didn’t ‘get it’ and sensed that this conversation was taking a turn he wasn’t following.
“Why? Why do you have to make other people miserable like you!?”
Now that one hurt him, and he saw in her eyes she wanted it to hurt. He couldn’t grasp her intense support of Serena. To his knowledge, they barely knew each other, when he'd known Marie longer and had been the one who found her.
Bitter resentment boiled within him, fueled by what he took as her betrayal of loyalty, and he became defensive.
“Jesus’ kid, you don’t have to be a damn harpy about it. I just did what you told me. Don’t even bother with her, right?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”
“Clearly I don’t, so tell me!”
Her anger fueled his aggression as he got in her face and shouted. She’d responded by shrinking back, and shielding herself from him. The heat of his anger dissipated the moment he witnessed her reaction, a sick feeling settling in his stomach.
In all their time, he’d never raised his voice at her outside the heat of battle, and not in this way. Whether he was a protector or aggressor, Logan was a terrifying figure, but he would rather die than hurt Marie. He still felt guilt and had the occasional nightmare over the time he speared her with his claws, regardless of it being accidental.
He hoped to reassure her as he approached her with open arms.
“Marie…”
“You gave her that look…”
“I… a ‘look’? I—I don’t understand.”
She looked afraid as she tried to will him to understand without saying more, but his intuition failed him. It was like he was forcing her to say something she didn’t want to share. He couldn’t determine what caused her fear, and he was at a loss, hoping she’d take pity on him as he waited as patiently as his nature would allow.
“Logan… It was the look you used to give Jean.”
The sound of Jean’s name said aloud was like a bullet through his chest, and to be used in the way it was, felt even worse.
He withdrew not only his arms but also his invitation to connect. The source of her fear, and the intent behind her words, were now crystal clear to him. The acidic anger and sadness that ate at him from the inside for years spilled out, burning everything in its path, as he hissed at her.
“Don’t you dare compare that woman to Jean! She’s nothing like her. No one is!”
His voice broke as he as worked himself into a frenzy.
“Jean! Jean is—!”
“Jean is dead, Logan.”
Marie ended his tirade with only a sentence. It was as if someone had sucked the air from the room, producing complete silence and stillness between them. Her expression — so cold and detached — showed no pity, just exhaustion.
His reignited rage fizzled out, and he could only stare at her slack-jawed. Logan couldn’t believe she could be so cruel to him. To say that to him, of all people, with such carelessness. Marie knew… she knew how he felt. Everyone did, and he wasn’t even the one Jean chose. His love stayed unrequited and now always will be.
Marie showed him no mercy as she went on.
“Jean is dead, Logan… But we’re not… I’m not.”
Tears broke free and ran down her ruddy cheeks.
“She isn’t here, Logan, but I am.”
The brave face she was putting on collapsed, contorted in grief. With her words heavy on her tongue, she made sure he saw her pain as she looked into his eyes.
“You promised.”
Logan could be cold, but not enough for his heart not to break as she threw his promise back in his face. He’d be a fool not to know what she meant and to know that, for as much as he claimed responsibility for her, he’d already failed her long ago. Beyond protecting her, he was supposed to be caring for her, just be there, and he hadn’t even done that. Logan had dropped her off and said good luck, only coming when called. Worse than a dog, he was a wolverine.
He wasn’t blind and knew Marie cared for him. She’d chosen him as her guardian, her protector.
“The good guy sticks around, Logan.”
On multiple occasions, he’d told not only himself but also others that there was nothing here to stay for. He was ashamed, as it was probable that she’d heard it too. He cared for her, felt a great sense of responsibility for her, but when Jean was involved, nothing else in the world mattered. They didn’t matter; none of it mattered. It was like an obsession; it blinded him, and he didn’t care. He seemed doomed to repeat the same mistakes.
After Jean left, his carelessness was only further shown, and he still didn’t consider Marie. So, he left, he stayed away, and he left her here, with nothing more than a raggedy pair of dog tags to cry over when he was gone for months on end. It was too much for him to bear, and he could only imagine how she had borne it for so long.
Once more he reached out, inviting her into his embrace, calling out to her with tender eyes.
“Marie…”
This time she did not hesitate to let a moment pass before releasing her cries and running into his arms. All bundled up, his sweet Marie was, so as not to hurt anyone.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”
Logan tucked her tight under his chin and in his arms. He whispered apologies and spoke reassurances into her hair, white strands sticking to his lips, reminding him of his failure. He held her as she shook with sobs that were muffled by his chest. She squeezed him tight, and he held her tighter, rubbing her back, petting her hair as he comforted her.
---
Not much time had passed as the children chased and wrestled one another. Serena enjoyed her respite under a weeping willow watching the kids play. The weather was lovely as she relaxed against the trunk of the tree, taking in the soft breeze that rustled her hair. It was peaceful until faint, frantic calls broke her reverie.
“Miss Mar!”
She was alert as she tried to locate which child had called her with such desperation. The children she watched were oblivious as they played. There were no distressed children among them, and none had reacted to the calls. Only she could hear the cries.
“Miss Mar, I need you!”
Her stomach dropped, and she sprang to her feet, facing the direction it came from. She recognized it as Theresa, but after scanning the field she could see that she wasn’t in the immediate vicinity. The calls emanated from deep in the forest. As if possessed, Serena made no second guesses as she propelled her body deep into the forest.
“Help me!”
That wasn’t the cry of a child who’d fallen and scraped her knee—it was a desperate, ragged sound, filled with a terror that went beyond a simple scrape. Her adrenaline surged, muscles screaming, as she pushed herself to run faster and harder than ever before, the wind whipping past her face. A strangled gasp hitched in her throat, icy dread seizing her breath, as she couldn’t respond to the calls. She felt the rough, uneven surface of the rocks digging into the soles of her feet, causing a burning sensation. Low-hanging branches whipped and cut at her exposed skin as she pushed through the undergrowth, her focus on reaching Theresa. She had tunnel vision and saw only what was in front of her.
Serena had no recollection of when she last saw the girl in the field, and couldn’t understand why she was in the thicket. Knowing the risks, the children stayed close, Theresa in particular, who always obeyed. Above all, she dreaded the thought that she was not out there voluntarily. Propelled by a blend of haunting whispers and unanswered questions, she drove toward the source of the cries, a sense of foreboding heavy in the air. She could only pray the calls that came from her heart reached Theresa somehow.
A searing, white-hot pain shot through her face as an unyielding force slammed her onto her back, her head hitting the unforgiving ground with a sickening thud. Her racing thoughts ceased as agonizing pain consumed her senses. Groans and moans filled the air, a chilling sound she realized was coming from her own throat. All she registered was the metallic taste of blood spreading in her mouth.
“Goodness, could you have been a bit more tactful? You could’ve killed her.” A woman said.
Serena heard a serpentine, disapproving voice that stirred a distant familiarity. Her head lolled and rolled, her vision blurry as she scanned the surroundings for a flash of red hair she was still intent on finding.
“You did a number on her, didn’t you?” The woman said.
A mixture of growls and chuckles filled her ears. As her eyes focused, Theresa appeared, bringing a sense of relief that made her reach out. A bright smile lit up Theresa’s face as she grasped Serena’s hand, their fingers interlacing. Then Theresa gave her hand a painful squeeze. Serena flinched and attempted to pull away, her eyes wide with confusion as she questioned the girl. Theresa’s face seemed to melt, scales shifting and reforming, revealing something or someone that filled her with a sickening dread, a vision that burned itself into her memory.
“What’s wrong? You were so happy to see me.”
Blue scales shimmered like the surface of the deepest lakes, hair the wrong shade of red and eyes that burned a frightening shade of yellow stared into her own brown. A sharp, agonizing squeeze followed by a sickening pop in her hand caused her to gasp, a scream threatening to be unleashed. A cold, blue hand clamped over her mouth in an instant, silencing her sobs as tears streamed down her face. Her eyes shivered, frantic with fear and panic.
“Ah, ah, none of that. I remember what you can do. Sabretooth?”
The blue woman held out her hand to the large, beast-like man. Serena felt the ground shake beneath her with each step he took as he handed the woman a rag. Panic exploded in her heart, a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. A crushing weight settled on her chest as her long-dreaded nightmare was now being realized. Incoherent and barely conscious, she wouldn’t be able to escape either of them. Hot tears streamed down her face as the weight of the X-Men’s broken promise crashed down on her.
“Scream, make a sound and we’ll kill every child in that field you left unsupervised. Starting with your little Theresa.” The blue woman said.
The blue witch spoke with the venom of a snake and bit like a viper. An icy dread filled her, seeping into her bones as Serena stared into those luminous, golden eyes. Regardless of its truth, the threat worked. Serena froze for a second, and that was all the woman needed to apply the gag without a struggle. Any hope she had of saving herself fizzled out. Serena felt sick as her stomach flipped and her vision faded, seeing double. She searched frantically for sight of Theresa before she lost consciousness. Dizziness and lethargy swallowed her, and she couldn’t tell from what direction she’d come.
“I’d think twice before making a run for it.” The woman said.
She pointed to the monstrous man next to her, someone she recognized as well, spotting the familiar shock of red that hung off his shoulder like a sack. The limp way the girl hung made Serena’s blood run cold, and she surged to her feet. The rag muffled her cries as she slammed against a tree in a desperate attempt to reach the girl. A vicious attack of vertigo struck her, and she thought she might have a concussion. Echoes of sinister laughter bounced around her head as she squeezed her head between her hands trying to steady herself and push out the pain. As she held her head, she remembered one last man who haunted her and completed the scene that played out before her. Her eyes wildly searched for him.
The woman’s tone was sly and infuriating as she addressed her. “Don’t worry about him. You’ll see him soon enough. Sabretooth?”
The beast approached, the thunderous sounds of its steps splitting her skull as she held it, propping herself against the tree that supported her. They’d captured Theresa, incapacitated Serena, and she could do nothing to stop them. Stop them from taking them both and threatening the other children. She was supposed to be their guardian and protector, but she’d failed them. Failed herself and her dream. She tasted the familiar bitterness of defeat on her tongue.
Serena felt powerless, foolish, and betrayed. She blamed herself. Believing she should never have stopped running and should’ve known better than to trust anyone. The Professor wasn’t here, and the one assigned to protect her wanted nothing to do with her. Her vulnerability was laid bare before their knowing eyes, and she was alone.
Her heart ached in tandem with her head as fear spiked her heart rate to dangerous levels. She tried to fight the coming darkness in her vision by telling herself that they’ll hurt the children; they’ll kill everyone if her eyes close. A silent, desperate plea filled Serena’s mind and heart; a fervent prayer that her children would remain safe and unharmed, that no ill fate would befall them. Frantic prayers filled her last conscious moments as she watched, defenseless, Sabretooth cock his fist back before unleashing the devastating blow. She cried for Logan.
---
Logan had held Marie in his embrace for some time, as he wanted her to take as much of him as she needed. Until Logan felt her squirm as she spoke against him, but their embrace muffled her sound.
“What was that, kid?”
She wiggled her face out of his chest, face flushed and damp.
“I said, I can’t breathe!”
Loosening his hold on her, she stepped out from under his arms, trying her best to wipe at her hair and face. She looked like a swollen tomato. The visual made him chuckle, and she reared up at him.
“Are you laughin’ at me!?”
The crying had plugged up her nose and intensified her accent. The sound of her voice set him off into a fit of laughter. She tried to appear indignant but couldn’t help but join him with her own laughter. She portrayed false anger as she attempted to wipe her nose.
“Ugh, I can’t breathe now! This is all your fault!”
“I’m not the crybaby, kid.”
The empty foyer continued to echo with his laughter and Marie’s curses as he protected himself from her mighty fists of fury.
“Logan.”
He stilled. Sensing something, with his posture erect, he cocked his head trying to pick up any abnormalities in and around the compound with his heightened senses. Marie did not notice the change and continued pummeling him. He tried to call her attention.
“Marie. Marie! Rogue!”
The sudden name change halted her, alerting her to the change in the air. She stilled, unmoving, and looked at him with bated breath. Watching as he tried to find what he was looking for and waiting for his direction. Rogue had known him long enough to give him space and let him do his thing; they’d been fighting alongside one another for years now.
He picked up nothing but knew something had gone awry.
“Something’s wrong.” Logan said.
Rogue took a sharp breath. Then he heard it — the quick footsteps of a child as they came up the entrance steps. Logan turned his attention to the door, awaiting who he believed would be their messenger. The door swung open to reveal the boy he recognized as Jones, who never slept, his glasses askew, and fear on his face.
“Rogue!”
Logan assumed he came looking for her but saw Wolverine and a bit of relief settled over his face, tears welling in his eyes.
“Wolverine! It’s Theresa! We can’t find her! And—and we can’t find Miss Mar!”
Before he’d known what he was doing, he was running past the academy doors, past the frantic searching children, past the fields and into the woods. It was her he had sensed. Whatever the call was, it was from Serena. As he ran, the air that filled his lungs carried an array of scents, and as his senses flooded, he sought hers. He picked it up at once, the fragrance of rich, sun-kissed sweetness from her morning still clinging to it. He inhaled deeply. Smelling her sweat, rich with pheromones, almost tangible, caused his jaw to tick with an involuntary response.
The scent alone spurred him on, driving him to run ever faster. Her scent was all over the place, winding this way and that. He couldn’t understand what had driven her so deep into the woods, then he smelled it. The scent of blood and a babe. His claws released of their own accord, and his blood ran cold. He kicked up various debris from the forest floor as he skidded to a halt. The area looked no different from any other part of the wood, but beyond the sweetness of her perfume, the acrid smells of his enemies mixed with the familiar scent of tears and now blood, provoking a guttural snarl to erupt from him. With a furious roar that echoed through the woods, he slashed at the surrounding trees, the scent of pine and sap filling the air as his claws ripped through the wood in a fit of rage.
His chest rose and fell with the power of the breaths he took. His failure consumed him as the scent of fear, tears, and their enemies surrounded him, fueling his rage. He was supposed to be watching her, and he’d played right into their hands. They had them both, taken them from right under his nose. Took them from the school with the X-Men there, and they’d served them up on a silver platter. A fool is what he was for letting his own pettiness and fear override his sense. Digging his nails into scalp, he wanted to tear at himself as he howled into the canopy of the trees.
He worked to steady himself and refocus his anger on tracking Serena and Theresa. Find them. Find her. Like a mantra, he repeated it to himself. When a puff of smoke and a sudden figure appeared. Logan lashed out on instinct and gripped a throat. Kurt’s choking face met Logan’s as his scratching claws bit into Logan’s throat-gripping hand.
“Logan! Drop him!” Scott said.
Great. He hadn’t meant to grab the kid like that anyway, so he dropped him, but not because Scott told him to. Kurt hit the ground hard, working to catch his breath, hacking. He snarled at the two and turned to leave to track down the girls.
“Logan, wait!”
“There’s no time to wait! The Brotherhood has Theresa and Serena. We have to find them before they get to Magneto!”
Logan ignored Scott as he walked away when a sudden beam blew past him and erupted the tree nearest to him. He didn’t flinch as the exploding shards cut into him as they exploded.
“I said, wait.”
He whirled with fury, claws out at his side. He wanted to tear everything apart and go on a path of destruction.
“What don’t you get?! Am I going to have to make you understand, bub?”
“Logan think! How stupid do you have to be to think you can rush headlong into a fight with Magneto? You know what happened last time!”
The last time he couldn’t stop Marie from being taken, Magneto threw him like a rag doll, and he could do nothing about it as her screams echoed inside the train car.
“We need everyone here. We need to wait for The Professor and Storm!”
“And you call me stupid! You think Magneto is going to wait to do something to her? He’s been hunting her for years!”
“And that’s why you were supposed to be watching her!”
He thanked whatever god cursed Scott with the mutation that wouldn’t allow people to see his eyes because Logan knew if he’d seen the complete expression Scott gave him, he would’ve run him through in an instant. The last thing he’d take from Scott was a look of disappointment.
“And because you couldn’t.”
Logan saw the corner of Scott's mouth twitch and his jaw clench. Everyone knew the amazing Scott Summers, leader of the X-Men, hadn’t been the same man he used to be since Jean died. Not that Logan blamed him, but to act so high and mighty as if he was someone who could deliver those lines with weight and not some ghost of his former self, pissed him off. Logan felt a sick sense of satisfaction that he could get under Scott’s skin and hurt his ego.
“Show me you know how to learn a lesson, Logan.”
“Girls flirt with the dangerous guy, Logan.”
He launched himself at Scott with a roar, but before he reached him, he went up in smoke, appearing several paces back. The sudden tackle from the elf had Scott reappearing on the ground. At Scott’s side, he tripped over his words, holding up his hands in a surrendering motion, as he tried to pacify Logan.
“Mr. Logan, uh, Mr. Wolverine, please—”
He ignored the kid’s pleading, crouching and taking his infamous wide stance. Claws on display as he roared at Scott. His anger burned, a fierce and uncontrolled blaze. He didn’t care whether he was in the wrong or if Scott was right. That if he ran straight to Magneto and The Brotherhood, they’d install him like wall décor inside their base.
“How about you show me you're a man!”
Scott's face was unreadable.
At the core of their relationship, he and Scott, respected one another. They weren’t what some would call close, but they weren’t enemies. They were just two men who loved the same woman. Two men who held onto each other when she died, but like night and day, they could not be more different. He had asked Jean to choose between the sun and the moon, when he had no business doing so, but he wanted her. Wanted her bad enough to take her from Scott, but she didn’t want Logan, not in the way he wanted her.
“Okay.” Scott said.
He then picked himself up and dusted himself off.
Somewhere beyond the blood Logan heard rushing in his ears, he could hear the fuzzy elf begging Scott not to do whatever he was going to do. Logan felt the rush of triumph, and wanted to beat his chest, as he prepared for an ensuing fight he would relish. Once prepared, Scott gave him a long hard look through his visor. Logan stiffened as he prepared for battle and trained his eyes on him. Then Scott turned his back on him and walked away. Leaving a howling, defeated Wolverine in his wake.
It was more than she could have asked for and the last thing she expected the night Charles Xavier appeared outside her van, hidden in the corner of an abandoned parking lot. He offered her an opportunity and a future. A chance to lie down roots without the threat of having to leave after a few months. Told her they had room for her and even a job.
Story starts after X2 but closer to X3 and into until the end, with a twist. Mixed with sugar, spice, and everything nice!
Ao3 / Ch 1 / Ch 4
A/N:
We have another shorty but a goody! I didn't want to wait too long to get this one out since I'm excited to get the next chapter out which I've been having the most fun writing! Please let me know if any warning/tags are missing and enjoy!
WC: 5.2k
Warnings: Trauma Response, Panic Attack, Discussion of Death, Mentions of Child Abuse
It’d been several days since Serena had last been back in her classroom. The way the previous evening had taken a turn was unexpected. Logan was the last person she expected to see, and what had happened between them still confused her. She would claim she was fine, but Serena’s idea of fine was remaining secluded in her room ever since. She’d canceled her lessons, feigning sickness to stay in, and avoided everyone. Only well past midnight, while everyone slept, did she slip out for food. In her seclusion, she concluded Logan had no intention of nurturing any type of kinship between them. She respected his boundaries but also saw the sadness in his face when he spoke to her. Regardless of his feelings, the rejection hurt her. The way she was handling it embarrassed her, and she wondered if this was how everyone she’d turned away had suffered. It was as if she were looking in a mirror, rejecting herself.
That interaction struck a very sensitive nerve. Serena understood very well the risk and fear of letting someone in. She wondered if this was why The Professor had paired them together and if it was beyond the need of additional protection. It appeared Logan’s distance from everyone was avoidant on purpose, even though he struggled with fully separating himself. She was familiar with his attempt and struggle to separate himself from others. Understood, it was a life that guaranteed unending sorrow, affecting everyone involved. She was curious how long Charles had attempted to get Logan to settle down with them and become a stable member of his X-Men. She puzzled over The Professor’s intentions and what he had in store for her.
Once more, she counted her blessings to have a room where she could observe the beautiful view outside her window for countless hours. As she hid, listening to the activity and laughter of the children outside brought her a sense of joy. The energy outdoors was a stark contrast to the melancholic and nostalgic energy that resonated inside the room. She found solace and comfort in losing herself in her memories, as the sound helped her remember. When she stayed out in the forests, parking lots, or empty homes, she was alone, and the sound of others meant danger. Now that she was here, she had no excuse for her loneliness, but pitied herself for being an outsider, even among her own. During her pity party, Professor Xavier attempted a telepathic connection with her, but she wished he’d mind his own business and after a try, he took the hint. Serena partially blamed him for the gamble that ended with both her and Logan being hurt.
As she hid beneath her blankets, the sound of cautious steps belonging to another potential visitor coming from down the hall reached her ears. While she didn’t recognize the steps, she recognized the twang in the voice that called out to her once they’d reached her door.
“Miss Mar? Miss Mar, if you’re up, I brought you a recipe from back home for a tea that’d knock out any bug. I’ll slide it under your door for when you’re up.” Rogue said.
While she hadn’t planned to open the door for her, Rogue hadn’t given her the chance to consider it before she took off. The sound of hurried footsteps faded down the hall. She found it a beautiful gesture and found the heart to rise from the bed to check out what she’d delivered. Kitty, and even Kurt, had stopped by to see her, but she’d also stayed silent when they’d knocked and called out to her. Serena was also aware of the lover’s quarrel that somehow Kitty had found herself in the middle of. Kitty told her how it soured her relationship with Rogue, which upset Kitty. Serena hadn’t had personal lessons with Rogue, but she’d often see her around the school and had received her help as she was one of the older students at the school. To her understanding, both she and Kitty were part of the X-Men team, alongside Bobby. She sent out a quick prayer for Ororo for having to deal with training that group. But she was sure Kitty had shared, if not with Rogue, with those around her she took piano lessons with her. Knowing that, she thought Rogue wouldn’t have wanted to reach out to someone Kitty interacted with. There was a moment of shame she felt for thinking her that petty. Seeing as she came to check on her, Serena considered that she herself might not be as invisible as she thought she was.
She bent down to grab the ripped page of notebook paper. The curly writing brought a smile to her face.
“Hi Miss Mar,
I heard you were sick these past couple of days with a nasty bug and no one’s been able to see you. So, I wanted to share a recipe that my Mamaw used to swear by. I never made the stuff myself since I’ll warn ya’, it doesn’t taste that good. Hope it helps, and get well soon!
Sincerely, Marie:)”
Serena noticed she’d signed the letter with her given name. Now she was feeling awful for lying about being sick when all she was doing was feeling bad for herself. From what she understood, Marie didn’t speak to her family. For Marie to remember something like this to help her, made Serena feel cared for but also apologetic. The ingredients on the list were questionable, but she now had a duty to make and drink it. Serena was an awful liar, and if asked she’d give herself away.
She made her way back to her bed, hoping she’d soon dream about happier times and loved ones she missed, but just as she settled back into bed, she picked up the sound of speedy light steps coming down the hall. She’d asked for a room down a corridor for moments like these where she could learn the footsteps of others and recognize them coming with enough time to plan. The steps she heard were from an unfamiliar child, not another teen’s. They skidded to a clumsy halt right in front of her door, then knocked on her door in quick succession.
A child’s voice boomed through the door. “Miss Mar, Miss Mar, are you there? It’s Theresa! Are you there?”
Theresa was the last student she’d imagine at her door. She hadn’t met her, but the frantic calling made her spring up out of bed. She pulled on the trousers she’d taken off days prior with urgency as she sprinted to the door. Her oversized night tee would be fine in an emergency regardless of how wild the combination looked. She yanked open the door, catching sight of a little girl with fiery red hair and dozens of freckles. The girl reached Serena’s chest. With a raised fist poised to knock, the look of surprise on her face twisted into a wide grin. She changed her stance and offered out a hand to shake.
“Oh, hi Miss Mar. My name is Theresa Cassidy. I’ve been wanting to meet you!”
After the initial shock of Theresa’s introduction, she’d scanned and checked over the girl, which only elicited a myriad of giggles. She had no injuries, and there were no suspicious noises coming from inside or outside of the building. To the best of her knowledge, Theresa had come unaccompanied. The turn of events left Serena bewildered as she watched the little girl poke and prod everything, from her desk. Serena wondered why Theresa had a sudden interest in coming to see her. Unlike the older teens, the younger children showed little interest in her, if they even knew about her. She resolved to find out how she had ended up here and grabbed her speaking assistant to question the girl.
“Hi Theresa, I’m Serena. It’s nice to meet you too.” Her tablet spoke.
The sound caught the girl’s attention, and she rushed over to see what she’d used.
“Wow, so it’s true you use a robot to talk!”
Theresa’s cuteness and curiosity made her impoliteness easy to forgive.
“That’s right. It’s a gift from Professor Xavier, it’s helps me talk with others.”
“The Professor is very nice. He helped me too!”
Serena could read between the lines. Even though she knew that many children here weren’t here by choice, it still saddened her to see such a young girl who needed saving.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you sad! It’s okay. I have a lot of friends, and I’m much happier now. What about you?”
She couldn’t deny that Theresa was right; she was much happier here than she’s been in a long time, so she returned her smile with a nod. It made the girl shine brighter.
“And now I have someone who’s just like me! You wouldn’t believe how excited I was when I found out.”
The little girl was vibrating, and Serena stiffened. She sensed her anger escalating and knew she was justified in suspecting someone had sent her to Serena. They had used the little girl to get Serena out of her cave instead of coming to fetch her themselves. The troubles Serena was dealing with were for her, and her alone, to settle. It was not only unnecessary to involve the young girl, but using her emotions to achieve a goal was upsetting and cruel. Only Logan and The Professor were aware of her sonic mutation. By now, she had figured out who had the audacity to send Theresa her way. If he thought this was some type of apology, it was a terrible one.
She must’ve made a face because Theresa’s face had fallen, and she’d withdrawn from Serena.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bother you, Miss Mar. I just thought…”
Her eyes were shining, and Serena started typing with urgency.
“I’m just upset that I can’t teach you anything. I don’t use my powers.”
Hopefully, that was enough to stop her from shedding tears. Luckily, it worked, and Theresa blinked away the impending tears.
“That’s okay. I already know how to use mine! I just wanted to be friends!”
Even The Professor wouldn’t stoop to brainwashing a child. Theresa just wanted to be close to her. Her heart ached when she saw how excited she was at the thought that Serena could understand her. Her emotional response struck a chord with Serena, evoking a sense of shared understanding and similar feelings within her. Theresa appeared to be a young preteen. She likely thought herself lucky that someone with similar powers could be a potential mentor and someone she could confide in. Maybe she and Theresa weren’t so different. Although she never considered herself a crybaby, it was as if her eyes would never stop shedding tears as her vision blurred.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she saw the concern on Theresa’s face.
She was quick to type another message. “They’re happy tears, I promise.”
That seemed to calm the little girl even as Serena stifled several cries, trying her best to muffle the sound. Hot tears streamed down her face, muddying her vision. Theresa gave her an odd look as Serena used her already tear-stained shirt to wipe her face.
The girl had lowered her tone until it was almost a whisper. “Miss Mar… Are you scared of making noise?”
Serena stopped, her face covered by her shirt. In that instant, she had the urge to hide under the bed to escape the embarrassment of being called out by a child. It was backwards. Theresa should have confided in Serena, not vice versa. A light touch on her shoulder prompted her to look up. Theresa’s face was full of softness as she comforted her.
“It’s okay. I’ve broken stuff and done bad things before that I didn’t want to do. I was scared for a long time, but The Professor taught me to always remember that I’m a good person and I’m the one in control of my choices!”
Theresa’s knowing eyes saw right through Serena’s pretense, leaving her exposed, a silent plea trapped within her.
She was bashful when she spoke again. “It’s okay to cry, Miss Mar. Accidents happen! I haven’t hurt anyone from crying, unless I wanted to, and I’ve cried a lot.”
What Theresa said was true. To listen to the words coming from the mouth of a child, rang truer than anything she’d ever told herself. It was an accident. The costliest mistake she had ever made, and she couldn’t get past it no matter what. It ruined her life and changed everything. It was the reason she ran for over a decade. She couldn’t forgive herself and couldn’t see beyond it. It plagued her every waking moment. But here was a baby, compared to Serena, bestowing forgiveness on her she hadn’t given herself for something the girl knew nothing about. When she looked into Theresa’s innocent eyes, she found something there she’d needed to give herself years ago. There was a sense of release growing in her chest that frightened her, but she held onto it with desperation.
She hadn’t meant to hurt her mother. Serena hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. Never. She never intended to do what she did, not in a million years. Serena was a singer; she always had been since she was a child. She’d always loved music and loved to sing for her mother even more. According to her mother, Serena was always the performer, always the little star, she called her. Her mother raised her by herself. Unaware of her father’s identity, she had no desire to know, her mother’s love being enough. Since her mother couldn’t carry a tune for the life of her, she always wondered if her talents came from some singer her mother admired. Despite being a single struggling mother, her mother never talked ill of her father even when he came up in conversation, so she didn’t bother her about it. Her mother was more than happy with just Serena, and Serena shared the sentiment. She also never let her forget how much she adored her. Any song her mother wanted to hear she’d sing, especially after the long shifts her mother worked. Some nights she’d even sing her to sleep.
Her memory of that day was clear, as it had begun as a typical and uneventful one. When her mother came home later than usual, she sank into her favorite chair. Exhausted, she asked Serena for her favorite song, and as always Serena wanted to sing a perfect rendition for her mother. It infuriated her to this day that something as simple as a want could trigger such devastation. That something so simple could influence something so complex as a powerful mutation. She wanted to hit the complex notes so she could sing the perfect version for her mother. It was her want. Although her mother always said Serena sang it to perfection, Serena remained unsatisfied. For all the times her mother had requested the song, she felt it was important to her mother, so it was important to her as well. She was great, seventeen with the goal of being a Broadway star. She wanted to be the best, to enter the best schools.
The recollection of her childhood dreams made her want to laugh and scream.
She wanted the heavens to hear her melody, so she pushed until she was not only heard above but also below. That night she sang the song she sang to her mother a million times, but this one time it was different. A restless energy thrummed within her, a buzzing sensation that vibrated through her very being, signaling that her moment had arrived. With reckless abandon, she seized it and expressed with all she had. She still remembered the sound she had made. The sound, like a homecoming, resonated deep within her, a beautiful, resonant harmony that transcended anything she had experienced. To this day, nothing could compare. Her hearing was always exceptional, and she’d known that the angels received her that night, but was blind to the demons she’d invited to listen in.
When her voice rang clear, so did the shattering of glass and the howl of destruction. Shattered car windows set off alarms, streetlamps had gone dark, and darkness not only enveloped her home but the entire neighborhood as well. Fear had gripped her heart then as her hands shook while she called out to her mother if everything was okay. In the veil of darkness, she couldn’t find her mother as she received no response. The hysterics from the neighborhood made it difficult to focus on finding a light source. When she’d found a stray flashlight, she’d wished she never had, regretting she’d found anything, after witnessing the state her mother was in. The ingrained sight tormented her until this day. She couldn’t fathom in that moment that she was what caused the blood that streamed from multiple parts of her mother. It was when she’d unleashed endless wails of suffering into the night, and onto the unsuspecting neighborhood, that she knew. Her inner world fractured, matching the ruin outside, leaving her stranded in a storm of despair.
She howled into the darkness that night as the ground quaked, and screams flooded the night air. An icy dread snaked through her, whispering warnings, yet a burning need to express her suffering consumed her. She didn’t stop until the world was silent except for the raw, desperate sound of her own weeping. When all that remained were her soft, pitiful cries echoing through the silence and her mother’s lifeless body. Only when the mournful sound of distant sirens echoed in her ears, did the devastation she’d caused hit her with brutal force. The unending silence and the leveled landscape, stretching as far as she could see in the dim moonlight, had caused her to empty her stomach. Her fear of herself and her situation overwhelmed her. So she’d made the panicked decision to flee. She laid her mother down, took her jewelry as keepsakes, and kissed her goodnight forever, before running with all her might. She ran for over ten years, never once looking back.
The city excused it as a case of a freak sinkhole appearing, the largest one recorded in years. It was in the news for weeks. So many missing, injured, or presumed dead, including her. She would see it on the TV and hear it on the radio as she fled for days. The repeated cries of families who lost their loved ones were all that she heard during the first weeks that followed, as she existed in a state of dissociation. Serena believed now as she did then that she had died that night.
Her recollection ending, she hadn’t registered that at some point Theresa was trying to comfort her and had been patting her shoulder. Uncontrolled shaking wracked her body, and a cold sweat slicked her skin. It was a memory she hated recalling but one that lived with her as a constant companion. A consistent punishment of remembrance. It always brought out the worst in her as it was crippling and almost always guaranteed to set off a panic attack.
Her chest constricted, a vise squeezing the air from her lungs, and though she tried to stifle them, whimpers escaped as a rattling, strangled sound, each breath a desperate gasp. Her fear was a tangible thing, a monster clawing at her insides, threatening to consume her. A soft cry broke free of its hold, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. In a frantic panic, Serena checked on Theresa, but there was no blood, no death, only Theresa’s encouraging eyes, bright and unwavering. Serena clutched at the fragile reassurance, a lifeline in the storm of despair threatening to engulf her.
“I promise I’m okay, Miss Mar. Remember, you won’t hurt me unless you want to. That’s how it works! Plus, I have good ears, you know.”
She flared her ears at Serena, smiling. Of course, she did. Serena’s soft laugh came out as watery woos, which thereafter turned to sorrowful wails. She folded in on herself, and cried into her lap as the little girl with flaming hair draped herself over her, a heavy weight of warming comfort over her. As Serena wept beneath her, she listened to Theresa’s steady heartbeat. She grieved, both for herself and the girl’s unforgivable suffering. Theresa, who comforted her in a way that she may have had to do for herself for years, as Serena listened to her steady mantra of, “I’m okay.” Dampness soaked into the back of her shirt. Serena didn’t know if it was for her sake or Theresa’s own that the young child repeated those words, but the tears flowed from Serena’s eyes, a long-awaited release, and for the first time in a long time, no one was hurt by her grief.
Serena held Theresa in her lap as the afternoon had become evening, and the sun sat low in the sky. Kids were indeed able to fall asleep anywhere. Despite her slight frame, Theresa was heavy; one of Serena’s arms was already numb. She didn’t care for children, but she also didn’t mind them either. Serena knew it was taboo to say that now that she was a teacher to many children, but she had never been around them. She was just unfamiliar with them, but if most children were like Theresa, Kitty, or even Marie, then she would say that she liked them now. Theresa slept against her; worn out after the rollercoaster of emotions they went on together, as was Serena. She needed to get Theresa back to her room, but Serena had no clue who her roommates were or where her room was. Wandering the halls in her sorry state was the last thing she wanted to do, so she settled on calling in reinforcements regardless of her earlier feelings.
She mentally called out into the intangible space, hoping for a response. “Professor?”
It worked, and she received a response. “Serena, is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine, I just need help to get Theresa back to her quarters.”
“Theresa? Theresa Cassidy?”
It was genuine confusion, and she was now sure she knew who sent Theresa, but she was too tired to be angry.
“Yes, she came to visit and ended up falling asleep. Could you call someone to come take her to bed? I’m still under the weather.”
“Of course. I’ll send someone right away. Thank you for watching over her. She can be a tad mischievous.”
“It’s what makes her charming, Professor.”
“Mm-hmm, get well soon. We’ll speak again.”
Heavy rasps at her door awoke Serena. Her heart was in her throat as she hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep with Theresa still in her lap. In placing the sun, she hadn’t slept for too long, but she had to wiggle to get some sensitivity back into her legs and arms. She underestimated her exhaustion, for the sound of footsteps not to have alerted her out of her usual light sleep. She hurried to avoid another set of knocks that might wake the small girl in her arms. With care, she maneuvered her body enough to open the door. She was relieved she got it open to greet the student on the other side, but the person who’d arrived wasn’t a student and, in actuality, was the last person she wanted to see.
Serena was over this night and wasn’t ready to face anything more, let alone Logan. She was going to kill Charles.
“Holy hell, they weren’t lying. You look terrible!”
Logan had an acute case of foot-in-mouth. Serena showed her displeasure by giving him an emotionless expression and thrusting the girl into his arms.
“Whoa there, be careful.”
Of course, she was being careful, but he wasn’t being quiet. Raising a finger to her lips, she shushed him.
“Did you just shush me?”
Why did he have to be so loud? She covered his mouth once again with a similar move she had gotten him with days before. Logan was silenced, but not before the little girl squirmed in his arms.
Theresa called out for her, drowsiness apparent. “Miss Mar?”
The girl looked through her tousled locks and reached for Serena. Serena took her hand and held it softly as she leaned in close.
“Can I come see you again?”
She gave the girl a loving smile and nodded.
Theresa wiggled her hand loose and presented her with her pinky. “Promise?”
Serena grinned and locked Theresa’s pinky with her own. She hummed in agreement. Theresa seemed content accepting her pinky promise and curled back into Logan’s arms to sleep. She gave the girl one last glance, ignoring Logan, before turning to retire for the evening.
“Serena, wait.”
A part of her knew he wouldn’t let her leave as easily as she wanted. Serena paused in her doorway, hand still on the handle. She kept her back to him, tilting her head slightly to offer him her ear.
“Serena…”
It seemed he had no problem remembering her name now and clearly wanted something, but he needed to tell her or she couldn’t help him. Irritated by the silence, she waved him away and closed the door. Before the door fully closed, he stopped it with his hand. She was stubborn, but despite her efforts to close the door, it wouldn’t budge.
“Please.”
Frustration clear in her huff, Serena gave up and turned to face him. Logan effortlessly held Theresa close with one arm, the weight of the heavy oak door in the other. His presence loomed over her, but she remained stubborn and unimpressed, refusing to acknowledge how he looked in his undershirt. Serena crossed her arms and leaned against the frame of the doorway as she pointed a disinterested look at him.
It seemed Logan was taking a page from her book as he gave one of the most pleading and pitiful looks she’d ever seen. She wanted to laugh in his face as he’d done to her multiple times. There was nothing to say to him, and she was too emotionally drained to confront him about his underhanded use of Theresa. Serena wasn’t simple. She understood Theresa was supposed to have been a peace offering, but if he thought it was an appropriate way to apologize to someone, then he was the simple one.
Logan didn’t need to apologize to her in the first place, but he obviously was feeling guilty for having gone this far. Her inability to process rejection properly wasn’t his responsibility, and it wasn’t hers that his choices backfired, resulting in his own discomfort. Then he’d gone and angered her by trying ultimately to make himself feel better. Unless he understood that the forgiveness he needed wasn’t from her, he was wasting both their time.
His ignorance of his own feelings and actions was annoying her, so she raised an eyebrow at his attempt to resemble a kicked puppy. It was cute but unnecessary.
Her unenthusiastic gesture left him at a loss, and he released the door to rub his face in discomfort, letting out a frustrated breath. She watched him silently stress, trying to find the words he wanted to say to her. His arm fidgeted as his mouth worked silently as he struggled. There was a small part of her that found satisfaction as even he, who had the ability to speak, failed to explain himself. Even reaching for her and halting himself several times, as he tried to convey his intentions.
To keep distance, she took a step back, and out of his reach. He stepped forward to follow, but to Logan’s dismay and Serena’s delight, Theresa became restless in his arms, vocalizing her discontent at being jostled. She sent a little mental thank you to the girl, if intentional, and watched as Logan repositioned her into a more secure hold.
He took a long pause, giving Theresa a pensive look before addressing Serena. “I’m…”
Not meeting her eyes, he sighed once more before continuing. “I’m going to take her to bed. I hope you feel better soon.”
He made a quick escape, holding Theresa close as he started down the hall without awaiting a response. Surprised, she nodded her farewell to him but didn’t watch him leave as she retreated into her room. His frustration was apparent, whether directed at her or himself Serena couldn’t tell, but she didn’t care at that moment. Leaning against the closed door, she listened to the sound of his heavy retreating steps until they faded. She was beyond exasperated.
Her eyes throbbed, lids heavy and swollen, as a dull ache began blooming behind her eyes. With a groan, she rubbed her temples, pressing her palms into her eyes, the throbbing pain a dull pulse behind her eyelids as she made her way to the bed. With a shuddering sigh, she threw herself onto the bed; her face sinking into the cool, smooth pillow before letting out a silent scream.
There was already enough she had to process this evening without the addition of having to decipher Logan’s taciturn nature. She should’ve trusted her instincts and kept him at arm’s length as she had originally intended. Now they’d somehow found themselves entangled in a confusing twist of fate. Their struggles may be similar, but clearly they were at different points in their journey, and Serena would let no one, including herself, hold her back.
Tonight was a revelation, and she owed Theresa more than words could convey for helping her heal a part of her she hadn’t believed was salvageable. It signaled a new beginning. The silence of her self-imposed confinement pressed down on her, but she was ready to move on. So consumed by her self-doubt, she failed to notice the warmth of the community that had quietly begun embracing her. She’d chosen a life of solitude and a quiet existence. However, many people, including some she hardly knew, touched her by expressing their concern. She was the one who was sabotaging her own destiny and who believed she didn’t belong here. They’d reached out and held out their hands to her. Now it was her turn to reach out and take their hands; to embrace the commitment to both herself and her newfound family.
The med bay was unusually quiet, save for the soft sounds of Victor’s labored breathing. His fever had spiked again, causing his body to ache in ways that he couldn’t quite explain. His muscles were sore, and his throat felt like it was on fire. He lay on the bed, his large frame almost hunched over, feeling as though he couldn’t move, as if he were bound by invisible chains. The familiar scent of antiseptic filled the air, but something else lingered - something sweet, warm, comforting, almost like a soft whisper in his mind.
Sabretooth's pink nostrils flared, his breath hitching, but he made no move to wipe his nose, too exhausted to care. He could hear the low murmur of voices nearby. Jubilee was probably making a joke, while Hank was likely lecturing about his health.
- I swear - he grumbled weakly, closing his eyes as he felt the familiar tickle creeping up.
- Victor?
The voice was soft, familiar, and it immediately made him feel... something. Something he couldn't name. He hadn’t allowed anyone to get close to him in so long. Not since... since everything went to hell. But now, in this room, with the X-Men around him, he found himself more vulnerable than he’d ever been.
- Victor - Xavier said again, his tone calming. - Are you feeling better? Hank’s working on something for you.
Sick mutant made a low, noncommittal sound. He didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to be sick, didn’t want to be weak. But the warmth that had spread through him at Charles’s touch was hard to deny. Before he could stop himself, his breath hitched again, and a soft, involuntary sneeze escaped him. He grunted softly, but there was no way to suppress the sound.
- Bless you.
He sniffed weakly, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks, embarrassed despite himself. He hadn’t been able to hide that sneeze, hadn’t been able to hide any of his reactions. His body felt as if it were betraying him. Charles smiled gently, watching him with a kind expression.
- You don’t have to hide it. It’s alright.
Sabretooth's eyes flickered up to the other man, confusion flickering in his gaze. No one had ever spoken to him like that. No one had ever been this... kind. Suddenly, he felt something sharp in his throat, and he leaned forward, gritting his teeth. A painful cough wracked his body, and he ended up hunched over, hands clutching the side of the blanket.
- Oh dear - Xavier said, his voice soft but firm. - Let me help you.
Before ill mutant could protest, the Professor had his hand on his back, rubbing slow, comforting circles, a gesture so foreign and soothing that it made the edges of Victor’s world feel less jagged. He didn’t say anything as he sank back against the pillows. Instead, he let his eyes flutter closed for a moment, just focusing on the feeling of Xavier’s hand.
- I know you’re not used to this... but it’s okay to let your guard down. It’s okay to let someone take care of you, even if it’s just for a little while.
Victor shifted uncomfortably, swallowing thickly. His throat still hurt, and the coughing fit had left him feeling weak and disoriented. He couldn’t understand it, the vulnerability he felt. There was a part of him that wanted to fight it, wanted to pull away and retreat back to the solitary existence he knew so well. But then Chuck spoke again, and Victor found himself wanting to stay, even if just for a moment longer.
- Alright - he said, more to himself than to Creed - I’ll let you rest for now. But I’ll be right here when you need me.
Creed's eyes fluttered shut. He could feel his fever rising again, but it wasn’t so unbearable now. Not with the comforting presence of someone who actually cared. In that moment, he felt... safe. Even if it was just for a fleeting instant. He let out a soft, almost inaudible purr in his sleep, a sound so gentle that Charles nearly missed it. It was the first time in a long while that Sabretooth had allowed himself to be this vulnerable, to show this much of his humanity.
He had managed to drift into another restless doze when a sudden tickle flared deep in his sinuses. His breath hitched, and before he could do anything about it
Hhh’RRRSHHhh! Hh’RRSHHHH’uhh! Hh’NGGSHHhh!
The sneezes tore through him, snapping his head forward. He barely had time to groan before a soft chuckle met his ears.
- Bless you - Ororo said, amusement lacing her smooth voice.
Victor cracked open one bleary eye to glare at her. - Hhh…hhh’TSHHH! Hhh’tSCHHhh’uhh!
Another fit overtook him, wrenching his already sore throat. Jubilee snickered from where she leaned against the med bay’s counter.
- Man, that’s adorable.
Creed shot her a look - Shud'up, kid.
- Oh no - she grinned - this is too good. Look at your nose! It’s all pink! Poor kitty...
Sabretooth scowled, scrubbing at it with the back of his wrist. His nostrils were pink - sensitive and irritated from the fever and constant sneezing. The whole thing was humiliating. Xavier chuckled softly, and the corner of Hank’s mouth twitched in amusement.
- Alright, let’s see how you’re doing - Hank said, stepping forward with his usual professional calm. He placed a cool hand against sick man's forehead, gently tilting his head to check his throat.
Sabretooth let out a disgruntled rumble but didn’t fight it. His body still felt too heavy, too sluggish.
- Hmm - Beast hummed. - Your fever’s still running high.
He stepped away, rummaging through the medical supplies. - Let’s try something to help clear your sinuses.
That’s when Victor saw it. The mint stuff. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
- What the hell is that?
Hank barely looked up.
- Vicks VapoRub.
Victor’s nose twitched just at the thought.
- Aw, c’mon - Jubilee grinned - It’s not that bad. Just a little—
- No - he cut her off, voice rough. - That stuff reeks.
McCoy sighed patiently - Yes, well, it helps.
Sabretooth's ears flattened slightly - Not happenin’.
- Don’t be stubborn - Ororo chided, but her voice was more amused than scolding.
- It’s too strong...
Hank ignored him, popping open the container. The second the menthol scent hit the air, Victor’s nose immediately twitched.
He groaned thickly, sniffling against the onslaught. Jubilee cackled.
- I told you! - Victor, rasped, voice strained from sneezing - ‘m snotty...snrf-
Xavier, who had been watching with an undeniable warmth in his expression, finally stepped in - Alright, enough teasing. Victor, lean forward.
Creed hesitated, blinking sluggishly at him. Xavier’s tone softened.
- Just a little. I’ll help.
Hank dabbed some of the menthol onto his fingertips. Before Victor could protest further, Charles - gentle and deliberate - brushed the VapoRub onto his chest, right below his collarbone. Victor stiffened, but Xavier’s touch was careful, steady.
- There we go - Professor murmured - Breathe.
Sabretooth exhaled shakily, the cool sensation sinking into his fevered skin. The scent was still strong, but with Xavier’s touch grounding him, it wasn’t as overwhelming. After a moment, a soft cloth pressed against his nose.
- Blow, darling - Xavier said, so softly it was barely above a whisper.
Victor growled lowly in his chest - but he obeyed, exhaling sharply through his nose. The sound was thick and gurgling, almost pitiful. He barely had time to suck in another breath before Xavier folded the cloth, pressing it back up - Again, son.
- T'is enough... - Victor tried to protest feeling exposed and vulnerable.
- Come on - Xavier gave him a fatherly stare. - Blow your nose, like a good boy.
Jubilee was already dying in the background, barely holding in her laughter. Victor huffed, but his body betrayed him. The congestion was unbearable, and relief was too tempting. He gave in, blowing forcefully. His ears flicked in embarrassment at the sheer volume of it. And then Wolverine walked in.
- Well, that’s one way to greet a guy - he muttered dryly, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice rough from just waking up. His gaze landed on Victor, and despite the humor in his tone, there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. Victor, red-faced and obviously irritated, glared at Logan with a venomous look. - Damn, Creed. Didn’t know you needed "Professor Daddy" to wipe your nose for ya.
Victor snarled, ears pinned back. - Shut the hell up, runt!
Logan just chuckled - Oh nah, this is gold - He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with amusement. - Y’need a bottle too? Maybe a blankie?
Jubilee lost it. Sabretooth, still bleary and stuffed up, wiped his nose against his sleeve just to spite them. Xavier, unimpressed, simply took another clean cloth, nudging it toward Victor’s face. - Use this. Like a proper gentleman.
Victor swore under his breath, but grudgingly obeyed, giving another deep, gurgly blow.
Logan shook his head, smirking. - This flu’s really takin’ ya down a peg, huh? Damn shame no one’s got a camera.
In that moment Jubilee snapped a picture with her phone - Oops. This is totally going to my "Cute cats" gallery folder!
Victor vowed to strangle someone once he wasn’t half-dead.
- You have something to add, damn runt? - Sabretooth growled, his voice nasally from the congestion.
Logan tilted his head and smirked. - Just didn’t expect to see a grown man get so worked up over a little menthol shit.
Victor’s nostrils flared, and he sat up, trying to pull away from the attention. - It’s not little. It’s a bloody assault on my senses.
- Maybe - Logan said, stepping closer, his boots making soft thuds against the floor. - But it’s working, isn’t it? You look less like you’re about to pass out.
Victor wanted to protest, to tell Wolverine to keep his distance. But he couldn't deny it. The menthol had started to clear his sinuses, and while it still burned a little, he could breathe a bit easier. Charles, ever the mediator, gave Logan a knowing look. - Victor’s right. It’s not comfortable. But it will help him feel better in the long run.
Victor let out a long, exasperated sigh, letting his shoulders drop back into the bed. - Fine. Whatever.
But then, as if to emphasize just how miserable he felt, his nose twitched again, and another harsh sneeze hit him.
- Hh’RrSHH! Hh'RRSHH'uhh! Hh'nggSHH! The sneezes were wet and thick, leaving him sniffling and groaning. The force of it left him momentarily dazed, and he wiped at his nose with a shaky hand, wishing he could just disappear into the sheets.
- Bless you - Xavier said quietly, placing a hand on Victor’s shoulder again, this time more to reassure him than anything else.
Victor didn’t respond immediately. He was too embarrassed to say anything, but there was something oddly comforting about how gentle Charles was with him. It wasn’t just the touch, though. It was the care in his voice, in the way he didn’t treat him like a monster, even when he was at his lowest.
Logan watched the interaction with a quiet curiosity. Normally, he’d find a guy like Victor insufferable. But seeing him this sick, this vulnerable, was a whole different thing. Logan had spent enough time alone, hiding from the world and pushing people away, to know how hard it was to be cared for. Even if one of his ex enemies was too proud to admit it, the fact that he was letting them in spoke volumes.
- If you need anything else, just let us know - Hank said, pulling a small vial of pills from his bag. He held it up for Victor’s inspection. - These should help with the congestion and the fever.
Victor eyed the pills with suspicion. - What is this, some kind of experimental cure?
- It’s just cold medicine, Victor - Hank replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. - We’re not in the business of torturing people.
- Speak for yourself - Creed grumbled, his throat tightening again. The last thing he wanted was to take more medicine, but he knew McCoy wouldn’t stop until he did.
With a sigh, he reluctantly accepted the pills, swallowing them dry. He gagged slightly but managed to keep them down.
- There - Hank said, almost proudly. - That should help you feel more comfortable soon.
Victor settled back into the bed, closing his eyes and trying to relax. It was a strange feeling to be taken care of, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. His entire life had been about surviving on his own, doing whatever it took to stay strong. But now, in the silence of the med bay, with everyone moving around him, he had this nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to do it all alone.
Logan, who had been standing by the door, finally spoke up, his voice gruff but kind - You’re gonna be alright, Creed.
Victor’s eyes flickered open. He stared at Logan for a moment, as if trying to gauge if the man was mocking him. But there was no hint of sarcasm in Logan’s face. There was just... concern. Logan rarely showed it, but when he did, it was hard to ignore.
- Yeah? - Victor muttered, his voice still thick from congestion. - Well, don’t get too attached. I’m not your charity case.
Logan smirked but didn’t back off. - Just don’t make me regret saying that.
Victor snorted softly, a half-choked laugh escaping him. For the first time since he’d been sick, it felt like he could actually breathe a little easier, emotionally at least. The team gave him space after that, letting him rest. They were still here, in the background, ready to help if he needed it, but for now, he didn’t feel quite as miserable.
Sabretooth dozed in and out of sleep, his fever still running, but not quite as brutal as before. A soft shuffle of movement pulled him back toward wakefulness.
- Victor?
The voice was smooth, warm. Familiar now.
Charles. He was still there.
Victor cracked one eye open, his vision blurry, but it didn’t take much to make out the professor’s figure. He was seated in his chair just beside the bed, a book balanced in his hands, its pages slightly yellowed with age - The hell’re you doing?
Xavier’s lips curled slightly - Reading.
Victor grunted, his voice rough from disuse - To who?
- Myself but might read to you, if you’d like.
Victor blinked sluggishly. Xavier smiled, the kind of patient smile that made sick mutant feel strangely off - balance. He had never known patience like that - not the gentle kind, the kind that didn’t expect anything in return.
With practiced ease, Charles flipped the book open again, his fingers smoothing over the worn page.
" Learn why the world wags and what wags it."
Victor shifted under the covers, his body still heavy with exhaustion. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had read to him - if ever. And yet, the rhythmic cadence of Xavier’s voice was oddly… grounding.
"That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting."
Victor swallowed against his sore throat, his fevered mind sluggishly piecing together the words. - …That White?
Xavier’s brows lifted slightly, pleased. - Indeed. "The Once And Future King". About King Arthur.
Victor huffed a quiet breath - You really buy all that Arthurian nonsense?
Xavier smiled - It’s not nonsense to me.
Victor grumbled, but he didn’t argue. Xavier regarded him for a long moment before continuing, his voice gentle. - Arthur was a man who believed in second chances. He believed people could change, even those who had walked dark paths.
Victor didn’t respond, but his jaw tightened slightly.
Xavier turned the page. - If Arthur will return one day as king… do you think the good side of Victor Creed might return as well?
Victor exhaled sharply, a rough breath that wasn’t quite a scoff, but wasn’t acceptance either.
- I don’t have a ‘good side - he muttered.
Charle's expression was unreadable. - Perhaps you just haven’t had the right chance to prove otherwise. The question is - would you like to show us your good side?
The words settled in the air between them, lingering like a warmth that Victor wasn’t sure how to process. But truth was - he would like that... very much.
🧡🤎
𝔹𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤#𝟙
𝔹𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤#𝟚
𝔹𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤#𝟛
𝔹𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤#𝟜
Thank you for reading the next chapter! I hope you liked it. I have one more chapter that I’ll probably post tomorrow, and I originally planned for it to be the last one. However, if you have any wishes or anything ultra-fluffy you’d like to see in another chapter, let me know! I’d be happy to fulfill your requests or write something completely different. I want to take advantage of my artistic inspiration while it lasts!
