Long Road Home (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} the_wolverine) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} valarlogs,@ 2013-06-10 22:16:00 |
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Who: Logan and Vel
What: Logan's adamantium finishes poisoning him
When: Shortly before midnight 6/10 (seven minutes between 11:55pm and 12:02 am)
Where: Logan's place & The bar between life and death
Status: complete
Rating: PG-13 for temporary character death. because it's Logan. It's like trying to kill a roach.
By Sunday, Logan decided he better clue Vel into just how bad he was feeling. The woman had been amazing, and he genuinely loved her. She deserved to know just how bad this really was. He dragged his ass out of bed, and shuffled into the living room.
Velma blinked when she saw him up. “Hey.” He’d been laying in bed for the last two days; she’d figured it was his body chemistry going nuts from the de-powering stuff. She’d mostly been okay with it; after all, he couldn’t get hit by a bus lying in his own bed. “How you doing? Any better?”
"Hey. " He gave her a smile. It was a tired smile. He took a seat next to her and leaned back in it, closing his eyes. "Got a moment?"
“You know I do. What’s going on?” Velma rested her hand on his arm.
“There’s somethin’ I haven’t quite been clear on, but you need to know now.” Logan sounded serious. He looked serious. He didn’t want to have this conversation.
“Yeah? What’s going on?” She wasn’t quite sure what to make of this; she’d have liked to think he would have told her something serious, but whatever. Not the time to argue.
“You know how I got metal on my bones right?” He’d demonstrate but popping his claws would be really really bad right now. He’d bleed out and die even sooner. “Thing is, it’s poisonous metal.”
Velma had expected seriously anything except that. She blinked hard. “The metal didn’t go away when the healing did?” She suddenly felt light-headed. This could not be happening. He didn’t mean what she thought.
He shook his head. “Still there. Second worse thing about this whole thing.” Worse was his senses dulling, oddly enough. He’d gotten so used to having extra senses, and he missed them.
“Second worst.” Velma laughed a trifle wildly. “So basically you’re being poisoned, and that’s not the worst?”
Logan snorted. “I feel like half the world is dead to me. Can’t hear, can’t smell, can’t even see as good. Take poison over blindness.”
“Funny, I’d rather be blind and fucking alive.” Velma snapped. She took a breath, trying to focus. “What can we do? How do you feel right now?”
“Pretty bad.” He flopped his head back against the back of the couch and groaned softly. “If you can remove metal from bones, that’ll help. Or get my powers back.”
“I fucking would if I could.” Velma sighed, brushing his hair away from his face. “Logan, I just ... so what you’re telling me is unless the powers come back ...” She swallowed. She didn’t want to talk about this. “Why are you not drinking all the beer in the house?” Velma managed instead, feeling sick.
“‘cause I don’ want to be that fuckin’ drunk.” Logan wondered where Eli was. He was glad she wasn’t here, and he was pretty sure he didn’t want her around when and if he went. “I love you, Vel. I want to see you.“
The way he said that made her tear up something close to instantaneously, and she shoved him. “Goddamn you, Logan. The one thing I counted on.” She’d planned for if she got killed. Not him, for fuck’s sake. “This can’t seriously be happening.” Did he, on some level, want it to?
“It’s happenin’....” There was a part of Logan that wanted it to happen. But not for awhile. The thing about being almost immortal, was that one had to watch everyone they cared about grow old and die. He’d seen enough of that in his dreams, to know it wasn’t what he wanted.
Velma felt powerless, and it was a new and sick phenomenon. “What the hell am I going to do with Eli? What the hell am I going to tell her?” It was stupid, it was taking refuge in the details, but the simple fact was that she loved Logan and felt like screaming right now.
“...Tell her the truth?” Logan exhaled slowly. He should have told her sooner, but he’d been selfish. He wanted to put off seeing her like this as long as possible. He hadn’t wanted to see the pain in her eyes.
“That this fucking place killed her father figure. Okay.” Velma sounded bitter and sighed, wiping her eyes. “Sorry. I guess there isn’t much else I can tell her.” She curled up against him, one arm gingerly around his waist, wanting to be as close as she could, for as long as she could. “What about Neena? Laura?” Had he told anyone, or had he just realized it and expected her to be the Goddamn hearse? Laura was even around here somewhere, or at least she thought she’d seen her.
Logan sighed. He couldn’t disagree. This place sucked the life out of you, sometimes literally. “They know. Laura knows instinctively. Neena guessed. I wanted to tell you myself.”
He pulled her close, and buried his face in her hair, petting it.
"Thank you for that." Small comfort, but still. Vel had to work hard not to lose it when he pulled her closer. She could fall apart later. "I can't believe I have to ask" -but better she did, better to focus on details- "but where do you want ... I mean. Canada? Japan with Mariko?" She'd fly him to Japan herself if that was what he wanted.
"In my dreams, I got a little cabin up on Canada. Wouldn't mind that spot. But also wouldn't mind bein' here..watchin' over you an' Eli an' everyone."
Fuck. She was full out crying now, but if you couldn’t cry now, when could you. Velma ran her fingers through his hair, sighing. “You’re going to get such an ego about this, but I don’t know if I can stay here without you.” So much of her life was tied into shit that had happened to Logan, people who knew Logan, falling in love with Logan. She hadn’t meant for it to happen that way, but it had.
Logan might have been crying too, but he would never admit it. He rocked Vel, and kissed her shoulder, and her hair, and tangled his fingers in them. If nothing else smacked him upside his head about his feelings for her, this did. And her feelings for him. “ I’m sorry Vel, I’m sorry.”
Velma could tell he wasn’t his normal self, though, and God, it fucking hurt. So bad. “You don’t feel any different.” It sounded stupid, yeah, but it just slipped out. “I wish you’d known sooner, fuck.” Also stupid, but it seemed extra cruel for someone to be fine on Thursday and dying by Sunday. She didn’t let him go, closing her eyes and trying to memorize everything about him while she could.
Logan pulled her head around and kissed her. It was long, with a sort of slow burn uncommon with him. Maybe even a goodbye kiss. Not that he wanted to say goodbye. Usually it was the other way around. That actually made him feel a lot better. She’d be okay. Eli would be okay. Neena and Kitty and Alyssa and Laura and everyone would be okay.
She wanted to ask him something more focused - if there was anyone he wanted her to tell that didn’t live here, if he had a will, though she’d have bet he did. And yet, she couldn’t do anything but sob softly, nose against his neck. It was close to midnight, and Velma felt chilled, huddling against him, feeling like she’d never be warm again.
She tried to ask him again, managing to choke it out through cold lips. “Do you have friends who don’t live here?” Something, anything to stave off the inevitable breakdown.
The man held her close. "Nobody I've spoken to in years, really. I never put down roots for very long, after Mariko. An' before then I hadn't anyway. You're the first person in a long time that's made me wanna settle down."
“You were so scared you were gonna lose me.” Velma wiped her eyes, managing a bitter smile. “I planned, you know. How to handle all my stuff, my papers, if I ever died. Most of it went to Lo if only because you don’t like paperwork, but the really private stuff was for you.” She’d written him the kind of letter you only wrote when death was involved; she’d been as plain and honest as she ever was, and it had done her some good, actually, to have some of the stuff down on paper.
She should probably be that honest now. “I know it scared you so bad to know it, but fuck, you should hear it now. I love you. More than anything. Never gonna be anybody else like you.”
"Don' say that. Ain't right for you to be alone." Huh. Logan loved her even more, now. "There's a vault. It's in Taiwan. Came from my dreams. Has...my whole history in there." He'd never told anyone about that here, not really. And Tiger Tyger didn't exist to talk about it either.
“History?” Velma echoed, curious. She looked up at him, still leaning on his shoulder.
“Mementos. Memories. Pictures. Good shit an’ bad shit I’ve done. Everything.” He looked into her eyes.
“I don’t care what you did.” Velma meant it, but she wanted him to know. “You’ve always been good to me, Logan.” He’d treated her like a princess, really. She’d been so scared he’d break up with her after everything that went down, but he never had. He’d trusted her. He’d loved her and protected her and now he was dying.
“Means everythin’ to hear you say that,” Logan said, believing her. He believed even if his sins were laid out before her, she’d still love him. It really did mean everything.
“I do mean it.” Velma looked him in the eye. She knew he’d killed people. She didn’t care. “I think if you had to kill anybody, it was your life or theirs.” And the only other thing she’d have shunned him for, well. Logan loved women too much.
Even on his deathbed, she had to troll. “Sounds like ‘in sickness and in health’, doesn’t it.”
Logan grunted, and his head slid against Vel's chest. This was a good place. He decided he was going to move in here and never leave. Even with his senses dulled, he knew her scent so well that it flooded his mind. He held her tighter, as his limbs started to go numb.
She felt it gradually, his grip starting to go. Velma blinked, clinging to make up for it, looking down at him. “Logan?” Fuck, no. Not now. “Jesus, already? No, hon, stay with me.”
His head slipped forward again. He closed his eyes, lips fluttering against Vel’s skin. There was something he never talked about, all those times that he died. The place he went, while he waited for his body to heal. Mostly he never remembered it.
He just hoped Vel didn’t join him there for a long time.
His breath rattled, and then stopped.
It sounded stupid even to her own ears, but she shook him once, then twice. “Logan!” Velma’s voice quavered, and she held two fingers to his neck just in case. Feeling nothing, she couldn’t help herself, and screamed. Raw, bleeding cut glass to every telepath in a fifty-mile radius, if there were any left, but she didn’t care. She kept screaming, muffled half against the crown of his head, unable to let go.
Logan was far away, in a place of shadow and light, sitting at a bar, and drinking some beer. He had three doors to choose from, and the one leading back was sealed for the first time since his dreams had manifested. He looked back at it, solemnly.
Velma was shaking, tears streaming down her face, and she tried to look for the phone, though she didn’t let go of Logan’s body. She had to call Eli, Laura, Neena, a thousand things. Eli, fuck. Where was that girl? How was she going to explain this?
The clock on the wall seemed to move more slowly than usual. Logan got to his feet as the sound of it’s tick tock rang in his ears. To his left was a door with an eerie, warm red glow behind it. Behind another was only darkness. He looked back at the sealed door.
She knew she had to get the phone, but she couldn’t let him go. Velma knew rationally that the body (oh, fuck) wasn’t going anywhere, but when she focused on going for the phone, her fingers locked. It was giving up part of her soul, to accept this and accept that she was back on her own. Velma sat, and sobbed, eyes closed, her arm still around him, surprised at how warm he still was.
"Vel?" Logan asked, but nothing came through the sealed door. He twitched his fingers, staring at it, his other hand on one of the doorknobs.
There was a sea of faces that swam past him. Some of them he'd loved, many of them he'd killed. He worked his jaw, his throat bobbing, before he moved away from the pair of doors.
With difficulty, Velma stopped crying, or at least slowed it enough to focus. First priority had to be Eli. She’d ask the girl if she wanted to go ... somewhere with her. Anywhere. Not here. She’d never see this room again without thinking of Logan.
She looked down at him, jaw clenched against further breakdowns. “I’ll try to be a good mom to Eli, if she wants me to,” she told Logan, breath shaky. She could at least promise that.
Logan stood in front of the sealed door. Sure, he wanted to die someday. Who wanted to live forever? No one with any sense. He punched the door, and then punched it again. "Vel.. Vel!"
The wood splintered, and his knuckles grew bloody.
The clock chimed twelve times, and he beat on the door in time to it.
The clock beeped twelve on her phone, and she finally set eyes on it, sitting on the table across the room. Velma sighed, swallowing the lump in her throat. Goddamnit, why couldn’t it be here? Or couldn’t she have somebody’s powers?
No, this was stupid. She took her arm from around him, and stood up, gently laying him on the couch, getting him on his back. His eyes were closed, and she felt an uncontrollable sob tear its way out. She kept from losing it again, but she felt the weight on her back as she got up to get her phone. She had a lot of calls to make.
There was the sound of metal grating against metal as she walked away. Logan's claws had unsheathed.
Somewhere else, he'd popped his claws, and was cutting at the door, slashing and beating on it as it broke under his onslaught.
Velma knew that sound, and jumped. “Logan?” What the fuck was going on? Some kind of rigor mortis? But wouldn’t he be bleeding? It made her whimper, walking back over, almost afraid.
At 12:02am, Logan gasped, jerking up, his claws digging into the couch. "VEL!"
Velma screamed again, but this time from sheer shock. “Logan!” She struck out, not with anything that could actually hurt him, but with a slap, two, three, not entirely knowing what was going on.
Logan sheathed his claws before he could cut her, and grabbed her wrists. He was weak, and still in pain as his body worked over time against the poison. He panted, out of breath, then hugged her in as crushing an embrace as he could pull off right now.
She froze in terror as he grabbed her, but then all the fight went out of her as her brain caught up. It’s Logan, it’s safe, you’re safe. She melted in his arms, clinging, gasping for breath as she cried.
“I love you,” he rasped, as though his voice had stopped working. “I love you.” He kissed her face and kissed her hair and held her close as she cried, and he shed his own tears carelessly.
Even when she realized that there was no longer a reason to keep crying, she couldn’t stop right away. In between sobs, she managed, “What - happened?” Velma didn’t know why she asked, it didn’t matter much. She’d have sacrificed damn near anything to get him back.
“I don’... I don’ know. I didn’t wanna die. Not yet. I kept beatin’ on the door.” He grit his teeth in pain. “Definitely healin’ though.”
She wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she dared, but when the tears stopped, she just kept quiet. Velma’s eyes felt dulled, and she stared into space. He could probably feel her shaking. She couldn’t be happy yet. Not after what just happened. For all she knew this place would reverse again, and she’d have to watch him die in her nightmares.
He didn’t say anything, instead nuzzling his lips against her cheek, and rocking her. Logan tried to comfort her, tried to reassure her that everything would be okay, even if he wasn’t sure of that. He didn’t want to make a sound. He didn’t want to break the moment. God only knew what would happen next.
God only knew how long they stayed that way. It felt like years, but so had the few minutes she’d lost him. Still, she could hear his heart, steady and getting stronger. His grip got tighter. Velma hesitantly tried breathing. It came out as barely a whisper. “Don’t go.”
“Not if I can help it,” Logan rasped, tiredly. “All I can promise is I’ll always fight it.”
That was about as good as she could get, and she knew it. Velma sighed, still shaking visibly. “Come to bed.” She didn’t want to be on the damn couch. She’d probably have to sell the damn couch. She wanted to be in their bed, curled up against him. She still couldn’t let her guard down, though.
Logan wasn't really in the mood to make any jokes about her wanting him in bed. It wasn't the time, and he still felt like death warmed over. He pulled himself to his feet, and swayed.
Fuck. Velma leaned upward, catching the brunt of his weight as he almost dropped. It hurt - he caught her shoulder full on - but she stayed upright. “Come on.” Velma got to her feet. “Get you lying down.”
“Thanks...” He tried to keep most of his weight off of Vel, and tried to kiss her hair again. “Spent too much time doin’ that, but think I need some more.”
There was a time and a place for a nervous breakdown. Velma guided him into the bedroom and back into bed. She sat on the other side, once he was on his back, holding his hand, not moving. She still didn’t dare. It felt too fragile. She felt too fragile.
Logan tugged lightly at her hand, as if asking her to come in closer to him.
She obediently climbed closer, curling up against his side. She hated feeling so vulnerable and terrified, but it was justified. There were good and bad sides to everything, even love.
He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around Velma. Face pillowed against her shoulder, he gave into his body's needs, and drifted off. Breathing, still.
Velma lay still, closing her eyes, listening to his breathing. She was still shaking; her heart was still beating. She needed to cry again, but she didn’t want to wake him. Gently, Velma slipped out from under his arms, walking back outside to curl up in a chair. She was crying quieter, but she let it out, both the relief and the pain.