Oh, look, there was one of the potential naggers now; Logan gave a grunt as Jean appeared on the stairs, meaning he'd need to pass her to get to his room to get out of the shirt. Unless he just wanted to strip and shred them both right now, and then run off to the woods. He actually gave that plan more consideration than it really warranted. Probably because that was how he tended to deal with his paperwork, among other problems: if God gave you claws, it wasn't right to let them go to waste.
He knew he was usually glad to see her, and would be again in a bit. Especially if she waved cookies and no trip to the infirmary under his nose. But right now, he felt scraped on all sides, memories pressing against his skin making him vulnerable and sad. He didn't want to look like this to anyone.
"Yep," he answered her, since it seemed to require some kind of answer. "Only got stabbed once. Must be losin' my touch."