Fervent Feelings

X- Logan Chapter 27 - Army Dreamers

Curiosity prickles in my mind, pulling my gaze over my shoulder. Laura's wide brown eyes fix on me, brimming with wonder, almost a question.

"What're you doing?" I ask, brows pinched in confusion.

"They left," she murmurs, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Who left?"

"The Wolverine...and the man...for the sink," she says, glancing at the doorway as if expecting them to reappear any moment.

I push myself up from the porch steps, brushing dust off my pants. "I see," I mutter, laying a gentle hand on her small shoulder, nudging her back toward the door. "Come on, let's go in."

As we step back into the kitchen, Kathryn looks up with a warm, slightly weary smile. "Hey, sweetie. Would you like some pie?"

Laura looks to me, her gaze searching, unsure. She's not really asking for permission, more like assurance, needing to know it's safe. "Go on," I encourage her softly, offering a small smile. Her face brightens, and she scurries to the dining table where a thick slice of apple pie awaits, her expression torn between excitement and suspicion, as though the pie itself might be a trick.

"I'll be back in a bit." I nod toward the staircase, catching Kathryn's eye. She nods in understanding, though I sense the question lingering behind her gaze.

"She, uh, doesn't talk much," I say softly, pressing my lips into a tight line, then I turn toward the stairs, each step a hesitant, creaking climb upward.

As I reach the top, a strange feeling tightens in my chest—an unease I know too well but can't seem to shake. Why am I scared? Light from the hallway spills into the room, illuminating Charles's figure lying in bed, turned away from the door, his frail shoulders rising and falling with shallow breaths.

I slump against the doorframe, arms crossing over my chest as I watch him. "What was that back there?" I murmur, my voice a mixture of frustration and wariness.

Charles's voice is low and hoarse, muffled by the pillow as he answers, "I think you know."

I frown, irritation spiking. "No, I don't know! So quit feeding me some made-up fantasy."

"It isn't made up," he replies, voice steady but weary.

"Oh, yeah?" I scoff, trying to mask the tremor in my voice. "Then what is it? My long-lost twin sister?" My voice is sharp, mocking.

"Another life, belonging to a different you," Charles says, slowly turning onto his back to face me, his eyes full of that infuriating calm.

I let out a hollow laugh, bitter and short. "Right. A 'different me'."

"It's true, Y/N. Those visions you saw—those were memories from an alternate life," he insists, his tone a mix of patience and conviction that only makes my anger spike higher.

I shake my head, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. "So why am I not living in this 'alternate life'? Why am I not this 'different me'?" I sneer, mocking with finger quotes.

Charles's face softens, sadness clouding his gaze. "For one, you died. And second, the course of time was altered by the X-Men, in a last-ditch effort to save humanity... to save mutants." His voice lowers, the weight of his words bearing a somber resignation.

I scoff, bitterness biting deep. "The X-Men," I repeat, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, that turned out great for them, didn't it? Mutants are a dying species. We barely even got off the ground."

"In exchange for changing the flow of time, we delayed the deaths of others," he explains quietly, regrets heavy in his tone. "We thought we saved them, but ultimately... they still perished. And you, it was as if you disappeared from the equation entirely." Charles pauses and licks his cracked lips before explaining. "You were taken in as a child by Alex Summers, raised by him and his brother. You grew up with them—sheltered, cautious. You even attended my school and, at one point, were our counselor, studying under Jean and myself." A faint, nostalgic smile pulls at his lips. "That's how you met Logan. You became an X-Man, and lived a relatively happy life, even with its struggles."