xp_logs | Doctor Feelgood

No, it's not smutty. Not even remotely. On Tuesday afternoon, of last week, after Bobby's incident with the ice, and after Logan's talk with Em, Logan goes to sit in the infirmary and wait, feeling both worried and guilty. Eventually, Bobby wakes from the sedatives.

Logan has been waiting for hours. Since just after noon, actually, and it's six now. He's convinced the nurses and the other infirmary staff to leave him be. Growling worked the first few times, but once he unsheathed his claws, they left him alone for good.

Curled up in a chair next to Bobby's hospital bed, Logan is holding /War and Peace/ in one hand and stroking Bobby's hair with the other. He'll be able to hear the change in Bobby's breathing when he wakes, but he wants to touch him, to reassure him, while he's asleep.

Bobby sleeps, dreamlessly, peacefully, his body absorbing the rest like it needs to. He's only got a couple hours of sleep a night for the last few days, and his body's been feeling the consequences. He snuffles slightly in his sleep, his subconscious knowing that Logan's hand is there, watching over him, protecting him.

In. Out. In. Out. The slow, even rhythm of Bobby's breathing begins to change and Logan glances over at him, putting the book face-down on the table next to him. He watches Bobby's eyelids flutter and his mouth move, still petting his hair, not wanting to disturb him by stopping.

Bobby murmurs slightly as his body tells him that it's had enough sleep, and his senses start to reactivate themselves. He can feel the hand on his head, the sheets and blankets over him, the air around his face. He opens his eyes and blinks, trying to focus on the figure in front of him.

Slowly, Logan withdraws his hand. He watches Bobby carefully, worriedly. "Hey, kid. Sleep well?" he murmurs, almost a whisper.

"Mmm?" Bobby isn't quite completely awake yet, but he murmurs in confusion as the reassuring feeling of Logan's hand on his head disappears.

Logan can see Bobby's face wrinkling in confusion and he puts his hand back, resting it on the pillow just above his head, letting his thumb brush over his hair. He glances at the doorway to find a nurse hovering. He glares at her and she retreats, probably to ask the Professor what to do. "Hey," he repeats, not really expecting an answer.

"Hmm?" Bobby relaxes as the hand returns, his voice not quite working yet. He's not managed to focus on who the person in front of him is yet either.

Logan waits patiently. He's been waiting all afternoon; he's not in a rush. His thumb slides carefully over Bobby's hair, a gentle caress. He's worried about this snarky, happy-go-lucky kid who...isn't, anymore.

Something inside Bobby slips into place and his brain starts to work again. He blinks at Logan, starting in his bed. If his limbs were working yet, he'd be halfway across the room.

"Hey," Logan rumbles quietly. "Shh. You're okay." He withdraws his hand again, turning in his chair to face Bobby more fully.

Bobby's eyes are wide, really wide, and slightly panicked. He flinches away from the hand that's been stroking his hair -- though he doesn't know it, curling up in the bed.

Logan's guilt weighs heavily on him. He shouldn't have been so rough with the kid this morning. Among other things. He watches Bobby with worried eyes. "You okay, kid?"

Bobby brings his right hand up to his mouth, chewing on one of the nails and looking like he's about to burst into tears. He makes a sort of hesitant noise.

Logan lifts his hands up, showing them to Bobby, front and back. He smiles, sort of sadly. "Look, no claws. Stop looking so scared, kid. I'm not here to hurt you."

Bobby's eyebrows rise. "Really?" he asks in a really small voice.

Logan picks up his book to show it to Bobby. "Think I'd be reading something a little more Stephen King and a little less Leo Tolstoy, if I were. You're okay, kid." He nods, attempting reassurance.

"Mm," says Bobby noncommittally, not entirely certain of that. He licks his lips -- they're dry. "Drink?"

Logan glances at the cup of water on the table. He's been drinking from it all afternoon. He shrugs; it's a little late to be worried about sharing bodily fluids. He holds the cup out toward Bobby. "Here you go. Can you sit up, or do you need help?"

Bobby reaches out a hand and takes the water. "'m fine," he says, sipping at it.

"Okay," Logan's eyes flick around the room. The hospital smell makes it hard for him to smell anything else. He can't tell if Bobby's still scared; it makes him a little twitchy. And he never liked hospitals to begin with. The difference between infirmary and hospital doesn't seem to have stuck in Logan's mind. His eyes come to rest on Bobby again. "/Are/ you okay?"

Bobby frowns, looking down at the cup. "I--I don't know." He blinks. "What happened? All I remember is being in bed...and then Em...something..."

Logan nods. "Apparently, your hand exploded all over the room. It's still kinda chilly in there, but the Professor's had the furniture replaced." He doesn't mention what happened with Marie, yet, not sure if it'll upset Bobby too much.

Bobby's eyes go wide again and he looks down at his hands. They're still there. "Um. I...I don't remember any of that."

"I didn't mean literally, kid." Logan's mouth quirks. "Guess you shot a shitload of icicles all over the place. By the time I got there, the floor was slippery. You were pretty out-of-it."

Bobby inspects his right palm. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it. "Um. That's kinda...worrying."

Logan shrugs one shoulder. "Yeah. We were all pretty worried about you." He looks at Bobby's face, trying not to see Marie's face in its place, blood running down her cheek, bone showing through. He shakes his head quickly to dislodge the image. "And you can stop staring at your hand like that. I didn't cut it off, or anything, to stop you." His lips quirk again.

Bobby's brows furrow. "What did you do? What happened...I still don't get it."

"Marie was holding onto you. I took you from her and..." He shrugs again. "And you stopped. And started crying. The Professor showed up and sent for a nurse." He's not sure how much Bobby really wants to know about what happened. Not sure how much Bobby /should/ know, yet.

Bobby wriggles closer to Logan, laying his head back down on the pillow. "I..." He isn't sure what he was going to say there. "Um."

Logan reaches out to take the cup from Bobby, not wanting him to accidentally spill it. "The nurse sedated you and I took care of Marie's wounds. It all worked out. Think you might've scared that new kid, Everett, again, though." He puts the cup down, then moves his hand toward Bobby again, intending to brush his hand over his hair.

"Wounds? Marie was hurt?" Bobby's mind is just grasping onto snippets of this.

A nod. Logan glances away, then back to Bobby. "Yeah, a little. She's okay now, though. Not even a scratch on her." His lips quirk into a grin.

His eyes widen. "Was it--was it me? Did I do it?"

Logan's fingers work through Bobby's hair. From what Marie had said, Bobby had tried not to hurt either one of them. It wasn't his fault. "She got caught by an icicle or two. She's fine. Like I said, not even a scratch."

"Oh, fuck," Bobby breathes. "If she--you--healing--fuck."

"What's wrong, kid?" Logan's hand stills, only his thumb still sliding over Bobby's hair.

"I did, didn't I? I hurt her. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck." Bobby curls up again, breathing deeply.

"Shh, kid. She's okay. And she knows you didn't mean to hurt her." His hand goes back to petting Bobby's hair.

"Oh, fuck," Bobby repeats, hugging his knees to him on his side.

Logan strokes Bobby's hair. "It's okay, kid. It was an accident."

Bobby's face crinkles, and a tear slips from his eyes as he squeezes them shut. "I want--I want to make it go away. I want everything to go back to normal. I want..." He breaks off, trying to prevent a sob.

"Shh, kid. Everything's going to be fine." Logan feels a bit lost. "Everything'll be okay."

"No, it won't..." Bobby's curled up as small as he can make himself.

"No?" Logan questions, really not sure what the problem is. Marie tried to explain, but. "What's wrong?"

Bobby just shakes in a little ball, eyes squeezes shut so he doesn't have to look at Logan.

Logan strokes Bobby's hair, shifting in his chair to move closer. "Look, kid, I probably can't help -- I'm not too good at that stuff -- but I can listen."

Bobby continues to shudder, arching his head into Logan's hand, his breathing fast and shallow.

"Shh, kid." Logan stands and leans on the edge of the bed, still petting Bobby's head. "She's fine, everyone's fine. No one blames you. It was an accident. Everything'll be okay."

Bobby opens his eyes and blinks them, look at Logan. "But--but--I lied to her...she must hate me..."

Logan shakes his head, finally understanding. "I don't think she does. Marie and I..." A pause. "We talked a lot, this afternoon. I don't think she hates you."

"But...but.." Bobby's brow crinkles. "She doesn't?"

"I don't think so." Logan runs a hand through Bobby's hair, then drops it into his lap. "I think she's sad, but I don't think she hates you."

Bobby blinks. "Fuck..." He tries to sink further into the pillow.

"She...she hoped that you'd still want to be her friend. That her friendship would be enough for you." Logan says, trying to remember all the things Marie had said. "But she's not angry, not at you I don't think."

Bobby whimpers quietly. "I feel so bad...I mean, I kinda knew, and I didn't mean to hurt her..."

"She knows," Logan says, certainty clear in his voice.

"Oh, god..." Bobby pulls the covers up to his nose. "Fuck."

"C'mon, kid. She's not mad at you. No one is. Everything's okay." Logan glares as another nurse wanders by the doorway.

Bobby raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Really," says Logan. "Who would be mad at you?" He looks down at Bobby, a hint of a grin on his face.

"Everyone?" Bobby says, thinking back to the last few days. "Everyone hates me."

Logan shakes his head. "No one hates you. We've all been...grumpy, lately. And, hell, I'm here, aren't I?" Logan points out.

"I guess...I mean, I knew you didn't hate me..."

"You're okay, kid," Logan assures him. "Everyone's been on edge, these past few days."

"I don't remember much of it," Bobby confesses, wriggling closer to Logan. "It was like anything and everything made me think that everybody hated me."

Logan nods, petting Bobby's hair again. "The Professor said you hadn't been sleeping much."

Bobby shakes his head. "No. Every time I tried I'd just...start to panic."

"You'll be here for a few days. They gave you a sedative to help you sleep." Logan nods toward the nurses' station outside the door. "So you'll be back to normal in no time."

"...three /days/?" Bobby blinks. "Why?"

"So that you can rest. You haven't been doing much of that." Logan smiles down at Bobby, scritching his hair.

Bobby murmurs happily as Logan rubs his head. "But--" He sighs. "Okay. I guess I probably need it." He looks around. "No TiVo, huh?"

Logan laughs. "No TiVo." A pause. "Tell me what you want to see and I'll save it on the one in my room, you can watch it over the weekend, between catching up on your classes. And--" He eyes Bobby challengingly. "Preparing for both minicourses. They start next week."

Bobby frowns. "What minicourses?"

"You really /haven't/ been paying attention." Logan laughs. "Hand-to-Hand Combat and Psychic Defense start on Monday."

"Hand-to-Hand--and Psychic Defense? Whoa." Bobby blinks.

"Emma Frost is teaching Psychic Defense. Guess she walked into the Professor's office and demanded it be part of the curriculum." Logan shrugs.

"I guess that kinda makes sense...and who's doing the Hand-to-Hand?"

Logan just looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

"You?" Bobby grins. "Guess I don't get extra credit for sleeping with the teacher, huh?"

Logan shakes his head, his frown looking more like a grin. "No. You don't."

Bobby chuckles. "Damn." He crinkles up his nose. "So everybody doesn't hate me, huh?"

"Nope. We can try, though, if you'd prefer." Logan shrugs, grinning.

Bobby closes his eyes. "No, I remember what that felt like."

Logan sighs, ruffling Bobby's hair. "Don't worry about it, kid. You might need to explain to a few people that /you/ don't hate /them/, but I don't think anyone hates /you/."

"Damn." He sighs. "That's gonna be a bunch of fun."

Logan ruffles his hair again. "Eh. It won't be so bad." He scoots up onto the bed a little. "They'll understand."

"I hope so." Bobby moves over to let Logan sit beside him, tenatively reaching his arm around Logan's torso.

Logan tenses, then relaxes, letting Bobby wrap an arm around him as he settles himself on the bed. "So, you'll be taking the hand-to-hand course, then?" he asks, changing the subject to something easier.

Bobby sits up slightly and leans his head on Logan's thigh. "Yep. So long as you promise not to kill me."

Logan laughs. "I'll do my best, kid. There'll be dampeners on the Danger Room, so it should put us all on /slightly/ more level ground."

"Okay. Because, well, I dunno how I did that icy thing earlier," he waves his hand, "but it'd be kinda useful to know."

"For that," Logan says, chuckling, "You'll have to talk to someone who can do more that sprout a set of claws, kid. Probably Storm."

Bobby grins and looks down at his knuckles, an idea forming, and he clenches his fist. He concentrates and starts melding the ice crystals which form between his knuckles, the three pale blue claws extending slowly from his hand.

Logan watches, obviously impressed. "Huh. That's. Huh." He grins and holds a hand away from them both and flexes, flinching a little as his claws burst through his skin. "Mine're bigger," he points out, laughing.

"They so are not," Bobby says, forming extra crystals on the outside of his own and conspicuously not glancing at Logan's crotch.

Logan laughs again, watching as Bobby's claws grow. He raises an eyebrow. "Okay. Maybe not. Harder, though."

Bobby raises an eyebrow. "At minus two-seventy three Celsius, even?"

Logan tips his claws toward Bobby's and, with a bit of effort, cuts through them. "Yep. Adamantium, kid. There's bone underneath, though, and yours're probably harder than those."