Logan (canucklehead) wrote in welcomethreads, @ 2015-03-31 23:58:00 |
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Logan dropped himself onto one of the many stumps he'd left in the woods since Carol's departure. A town this small was ill suited to his moods, a fact Logan was all too familiar with after the destruction of one too many heavy bags and nearly drinking the town dry of beer he considered drinkable. It was why he'd come out here in the first place. He needed something to keep his hands busy and swinging an axe around seemed a whole lot better than putting his claws through the drywall of the apartment. Today wasn't much different. Since getting sent back and returning, again, Logan had found his head damn near ready to burst. He remembered being here before, when he was certain he'd done away with Daken and Romulus, and he'd actually managed to be able to find some measure of peace with that. He kept his head down, he'd worked on the youth center, he'd been there for new arrivals and the younger members of the community. It was a good life, even if it was populated by a bunch of people who weren't who he remembered them as being. Now, after arriving here for the third time, after dealing with the headache of barely being able to remember this place when he was 'home', he was finding himself restless. Maybe it was Daken's subsequent return and the years of torture he'd endured at the hands of his son, maybe it was that the world was getting judged, Hell maybe it was even the fact that sleeping had become all that more elusive this trip to Storybrooke. Logan didn't know anymore -- and he wasn't too sure it mattered anyway. What did matter was the truth of the matter, that people he actually cared about were suffering the pains of the life they led, of this place, and of trying to find that impossible balance. It was why he'd invited Natalia out here with him, why he'd, albeit less wantingly, invited Stark too. She was a face he knew better than most, arguably any. She was a force in his life since she'd been a little girl and Logan felt a sense of kinship there that had become all the more rare. The look on her face when he'd told her about Bucky, a truth he couldn't bring himself to hide anymore -- it told him they'd both soon need some time away from the world. Stark? Logan honestly didn't have as many reasons for inviting Stark. Frankly the two had never gotten along even when it was the Stark he knew. The man had a brain too big, thought he had all the answers. It'd caused him, and almost everyone he knew, a heaping pile of bullshit and trouble nobody needed. Maybe that was why Logan had invited him though. He knew the man was hurting, and men like Tony Stark tended to be all the more dangerous when wounded -- and that said nothing about drunk. Maybe just having him somewhere where he and one of the few people he trusted could keep an eye on him would be enough... Somehow, he doubted it. If nothing else, a few days in the woods, away from everything? It was what he needed. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was cold, but Logan honestly didn't care. Being stuck in small town Maine, with a heart full of turmoil and a head full of bad dreams? That was a powder keg nobody needed. If they showed? Fine. They'd all sit around the fire, have a few drinks, and try not to freeze. If they didn't? Well, then it'd be a party of one -- and that was bigger than some parties he'd attended in his life. When he caught scent of the familiar Russian, he half grunted. "Was wonderin' when you'd show up." Because, with Romanova, it was never a matter of if. |