My Body Is a Cage
It's a Hollow Play, But They'll Clap Anyway
My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing
With the one I love
But my mind holds the key.
Logan slammed his fist into the wall, claws entending and burying further into the dry wall and scraping the sheet rock. With his hand still buried in the wall, he let his forehead drop and his eyes close. A feral growl slipped out of his mouth as he felt a small, gloved hand rest on his bare shoulder.
"It's okay, Logan, she's healing up fine," Rogue assured him softly.
His teeth bared and his eyes screwed up tighter before he shrugged off her hand and removed his hand from the wall and let his claws slip back inside his hand. "She shouldn't have to heal up at all," he growled before prowling off.
Rogue looked after him but didn't follow, allowing him to stalk through the school shirtless, barefoot, tussled and furious with himself. Professor X's voice murmured in her head to go back to sleep, that there was nothing she could do for him. Rogue nodded and with one last glance at Wolverine's form,
she returned to her room.
Logan snarled wordlessly when the Professor insisted that she was fine and that he was being too hard on himself, but all he snapped back was some profanities and telling Xavier to stay the hell out of his head. Charles sighed and relented before returning to check on the girl, who's healing abilities were knitting her skin back together without a blemish. "Oh, my dear, what are we to do with your little Wolverine?" he murmured to her still unconcious form.
Stradling Scott's bike, Logan pulled out of the garage and drove at break-neck speed until he pulled off by a small stream. After slashing several saplings and carving a much older tree savagely, he sat by the stream, his mind replaying the previous events of the night.
It started harmless enough, a soft kiss, a bit lingering, but had quickly progressed until they were rolling around his bed, steadily losing clothes and inhibitions. He hadn't realized he had lost control until he felt his blades sink into flesh. He tried to pull them out, tried to help her, but they just wouldn't sink back into his hands as he screamed out for help. He buried his claws into his thighs and backed away from her, bleeding on the bed.
Storm and Scott ran in, and with one glance, Storm was in control, having Scott carry her to the medical wing while she calmed the students and put them back to bed. All Logan could do was stand with his blades buried in his flesh and his eyes wide in terror and shock. He pulled his claws out of his legs and fled the room, his wounds already healed.
He sighed heavily, hating his adamantium skeleton, hating his claws, hating himself. He hated his body, he hated his enhancements, they made him into his own cage, and it kept him from everyone he loved. He wanted to flee, leave the school, run again. It'd be better for her, he assured himself. He was so caught up in his inner monologe, he didn't notice the new scent or the quiet drop of a body landing gracefully on the ground. "My, my, I snuck up on Wolverine," she purred, squating behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling his neck momentarily.
"Glad you're alright," he mumbled gruffly, not reacting to her touch. His instincts told him that if he distanced himself, it'd be easier for both some day.
"Quite alright," she assured him before leaning in closer to breath "But quite unsatisfied."
He shook his head firmly. "No, I'm not- I can't hurt you again," he said.
She turned to kneel in front of him, taking his face in her hands, frowning. "Logan," she started softly.
He shook his head again. "No," he interrupted. "If things were different, then yes, but no, it's too dangerous."
"I'm not scared of you," she insisted.
"You should be!" he shouted, standing hastily. "I'm not just a mutant! I'm a science experiment!"
"Logan," she repeated more firmly, standing to look up at him, to look him in the eye. "It was an accident! These things happen, they happen to people like us sometimes, we make accomodations and live with them. At least we can find a way to be intimiate! At least we can kiss, and hold hands! At least we can hold each other!" To emphasis her point, she placed one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek. "Think about how Rogue and Bobby must feel. They can't even hold hands, but they deal," she told him.
"I'm dangerous," he insisted, but didn't move away from her touch.
"So am I," she answered with a small smile, shaking her head. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his warmly before pulling away to smile at him. She tapped the side of his head gently before smiling once more. "It's in there, the key to making this work."
He raised his brows but leaned down to kiss her, hesitantly placing his hands on her hips. She smiled encouragingly against his mouth and teasingly gave him a small shock. He pulled back to narrow his eyes at her.
She grinned at him. "Payback," she trilled before winking at him.
"You little minx," he grumbled before kissing her once more. She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, trusting him more than he trusted himself.
You're standing next to me.
My mind holds the key.
That keeps me from dancing
With the one I love
But my mind holds the key.
Logan slammed his fist into the wall, claws entending and burying further into the dry wall and scraping the sheet rock. With his hand still buried in the wall, he let his forehead drop and his eyes close. A feral growl slipped out of his mouth as he felt a small, gloved hand rest on his bare shoulder.
"It's okay, Logan, she's healing up fine," Rogue assured him softly.
His teeth bared and his eyes screwed up tighter before he shrugged off her hand and removed his hand from the wall and let his claws slip back inside his hand. "She shouldn't have to heal up at all," he growled before prowling off.
Rogue looked after him but didn't follow, allowing him to stalk through the school shirtless, barefoot, tussled and furious with himself. Professor X's voice murmured in her head to go back to sleep, that there was nothing she could do for him. Rogue nodded and with one last glance at Wolverine's form,
she returned to her room.
Logan snarled wordlessly when the Professor insisted that she was fine and that he was being too hard on himself, but all he snapped back was some profanities and telling Xavier to stay the hell out of his head. Charles sighed and relented before returning to check on the girl, who's healing abilities were knitting her skin back together without a blemish. "Oh, my dear, what are we to do with your little Wolverine?" he murmured to her still unconcious form.
Stradling Scott's bike, Logan pulled out of the garage and drove at break-neck speed until he pulled off by a small stream. After slashing several saplings and carving a much older tree savagely, he sat by the stream, his mind replaying the previous events of the night.
It started harmless enough, a soft kiss, a bit lingering, but had quickly progressed until they were rolling around his bed, steadily losing clothes and inhibitions. He hadn't realized he had lost control until he felt his blades sink into flesh. He tried to pull them out, tried to help her, but they just wouldn't sink back into his hands as he screamed out for help. He buried his claws into his thighs and backed away from her, bleeding on the bed.
Storm and Scott ran in, and with one glance, Storm was in control, having Scott carry her to the medical wing while she calmed the students and put them back to bed. All Logan could do was stand with his blades buried in his flesh and his eyes wide in terror and shock. He pulled his claws out of his legs and fled the room, his wounds already healed.
He sighed heavily, hating his adamantium skeleton, hating his claws, hating himself. He hated his body, he hated his enhancements, they made him into his own cage, and it kept him from everyone he loved. He wanted to flee, leave the school, run again. It'd be better for her, he assured himself. He was so caught up in his inner monologe, he didn't notice the new scent or the quiet drop of a body landing gracefully on the ground. "My, my, I snuck up on Wolverine," she purred, squating behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling his neck momentarily.
"Glad you're alright," he mumbled gruffly, not reacting to her touch. His instincts told him that if he distanced himself, it'd be easier for both some day.
"Quite alright," she assured him before leaning in closer to breath "But quite unsatisfied."
He shook his head firmly. "No, I'm not- I can't hurt you again," he said.
She turned to kneel in front of him, taking his face in her hands, frowning. "Logan," she started softly.
He shook his head again. "No," he interrupted. "If things were different, then yes, but no, it's too dangerous."
"I'm not scared of you," she insisted.
"You should be!" he shouted, standing hastily. "I'm not just a mutant! I'm a science experiment!"
"Logan," she repeated more firmly, standing to look up at him, to look him in the eye. "It was an accident! These things happen, they happen to people like us sometimes, we make accomodations and live with them. At least we can find a way to be intimiate! At least we can kiss, and hold hands! At least we can hold each other!" To emphasis her point, she placed one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek. "Think about how Rogue and Bobby must feel. They can't even hold hands, but they deal," she told him.
"I'm dangerous," he insisted, but didn't move away from her touch.
"So am I," she answered with a small smile, shaking her head. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his warmly before pulling away to smile at him. She tapped the side of his head gently before smiling once more. "It's in there, the key to making this work."
He raised his brows but leaned down to kiss her, hesitantly placing his hands on her hips. She smiled encouragingly against his mouth and teasingly gave him a small shock. He pulled back to narrow his eyes at her.
She grinned at him. "Payback," she trilled before winking at him.
"You little minx," he grumbled before kissing her once more. She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, trusting him more than he trusted himself.
You're standing next to me.
My mind holds the key.