X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ Running Low ❯ One-Shot

My new favorite pairing. Fuck Jean/Logan! Who the hell thought that up anyway?!

I'm sorry. It's late. I'm running on four hours of sleep, half a Mr. Pibb, and a collection of Industrial awesomeness.

Ignore the swearing. It's what comes from waiting in line for twenty minutes to get a box of fucking Sour Patch Kids, dancing around to freak people out, mumbling to yourself, singing “fuckity, fuck, fuck” over and over again, while watching the same preview for the same movie (which looks pretty cool, what was it, Scan Darkly or something) for the millionth time.

 

Running Low

 

She'd met him as no more than a child, lost and confused by her own powers. Maybe she needed protection, maybe she just needed someone to understand, but when he'd let her come along, she was happy to follow.

 

They had a strange type of relationship for a few days. Somehow, both of them kept getting each other nearly killed. She laughed on it now, and so did he.

 

He'd nearly sacrificed himself for her, just so she could live when she had nearly died. It was an amazing feeling, his arms wrapped around hers, and it scared her to think she might never get to feel this without hurting him.

 

She'd grown. He'd watched. Their bond was all too quick to make but it lasted. For a while she thought of him as a father figure, but that seemed wrong. Maybe a brother.

 

No. Siblings didn't have the relationship they did.

 

He watched her with Bobby, the same way she watched him with Jean Grey. His relationship was horribly fucked, just as hers was. It really was a matter of looking out for each other, because in the beginning, they'd had no one else.

 

She'd grown some more. He stayed there for her, a friendly word of advice, and he was friendliest around her. Then she got her powers taken away, and she was free!

 

You know, for a while.

 

Life was like that.

 

Horribly fucked like that.

 

And, because no relationship stayed forever, especially when you're teenagers, she and Bobby broke apart. He and Kitty went out for a while. It was kind of sweet, if she didn't have to look at it.

 

She'd grown some more. A few more relationships. Each ending the same way. She'd learned not to let people care for her too much. They only got hurt, in every way.

 

So here she was, old enough to drink, sitting at the steps of the Academy, watching the cigarette burn into ash.

 

“Those are bad for you.”

 

She looked up, grinning. “You never seemed to have a problem with them.”

 

He didn't smile back. He'd already pulled out his own smoke, and there were the two adults, looking like everything they tell you not to be when you grow up.

 

“What happens next?” she asked, letting the cigarette go out and stomping the embers beneath her boot.

 

“Nothing, I guess. We're here.”

 

The night folded around them, their bodies pressed together in a familiar way.

“We're here.”

 

That was really all that mattered.

 

Notes:

Oh fuck you.

No! Sorry. Didn't mean it.

Goddammit my brain died. I'm gonna go to sleep.