Marvel: Reader Inserts

The Library ~ Part 10 ~ Logan Howlett x Reader

 The slipping was getting worse. Not just longer— but sharper. You would come back with a headache, with your limbs trembling, your thoughts out of order. Sometimes you would blink and the clock would have jumped hours. Sometimes Logan would be calling your name like he had been doing it for ages, panic barely restrained in his voice. And sometimes— you wouldn't remember slipping at all or the people around you. Due to these reasons, you were mostly banned from the mansion library and you spent more time in your apartment than at the mansion.

The meeting in Charles' office was quiet. Jean sat silently. Hank tapped a pen nervously. Logan stood behind you with one hand on your shoulder, grounding you. It was Charles who finally spoke.

"We believe," he began carefully, "that the books in your living space may be unintentionally feeding the instability of your abilities. The emotional imprints, the data you absorb even without meaning to... it's like you're living in a constant hum of static."

You shook your head. "No," you said immediately. "No, you're not taking my books."

"We're not saying forever," Hank added, gently. "We're just saying— maybe giving your mind a break. Something controlled. Clean."

"My books are the only things that make me feel normal."

Logan shifted behind you. His grip on your shoulder tightened slightly.

"We understand that," Charles said, "but your condition is deteriorating. And if we don't act now—"

"So what?" You stood, pulling free from Logan's grasp. "You want to empty my home? Turn it into a sterile little safe room where I sit and twiddle my thumbs in a padded char?"

"No one is suggesting that," Jean said. "We just want to keep you here. Alive."

Logan hadn't said anything. You turned to him now, eyes wide. "You're not going to let them do this."

His jaw was clenched, hard. "I don't want anything taken from you," he said slowly. "But I can't lose you either."

You stared at him. The words dropped in your stomach like stones. "So you're all just going to... make this decision for me?"

Charles folded his hands. "We had to bring this up now, Y/N, before it's too late to bring anything up at all."

You left the room before anyone could say another word.

~~~

The door slammed behind you as soon as you entered the apartment. You didn't speak. Not at first. You could feel Logan behind you, his presence like a shadow— heavy and waiting. You turned, arms crossed. He closed the door gently.

"You're siding with them," you accused, voice low and sharp. "You're supposed to be on my side."

Logan's jaw flexed. "I am on your side. But your side is falling apart right in front of me!"

"They want to take everything, Logan!" Your voice rose. "Do you know what I am without books? Without stories? Without history and poetry and knowledge? I am nothing. I'm just— just—"

"Don't you ever say that!" His voice cracked like thunder, sudden and explosive. "You think I feel in love with you because of the books?!"

You flinched.

He took a step forward, breath ragged. "I love you because you fight. Because you never give up. Because you teach and listen and you make me believe in quiet. But I'm watching that light go out in your eyes every damn day, and I can't just stand her and letting it happen anymore!"

You shook your head, tears already slipping down your cheeks. "You don't understand... Those books— they feel like home. Different than you do. I've lost everything else that makes me feel normal. Safe. Me. If you take that away—"