All it took was a moment for everything to go to hell. Logan was well acquainted with that truth, and yet he failed to react to the fact that Josh intended to heal Rogue, not just feed her some anti-venom like some normal, run of the mill doctor would have. Too many distractions, he thought. The damn boy had been about to cry, which only would have made Logan want to smack him, grief or no grief. An enlightened renaissance man he was not. Men didn't cry, and if their eyes did water, then they better damn well be able to suck those fuckers right back in through the tearducts, because nothing was more pathetic than a man weeping openly. It was the way Logan was wired, a man grown from a boy who got a hiding for being wicked, but got a man's beating if he dared cry over it. Some things stayed with you, no matter how much psychology and compassion you might learn along the way. Some lessons were beaten into your skin, and no amount of understanding could cure you of their learning.
He came back and picked Josh up and put him on a bed to sleep it off, then called over the wall comm for someone to come man their stations down at the infirmary, describing the situation. He would stay and instruct everyone not to touch either the dead girl or the unconscious one, and watch over Josh until he was sure he wasn't at least getting worse. He would eye Rogue long and hard, the girl with the deadly touch. He started calling her Coma Touch Girl in his head that day.