'Magnetized' (Magneto X Reader) [ DISCONTINUED ]

'Charlie'

Before this moment, I was sitting in the trailer with my face in my hands, worried. I turned on the TV and saw everything that was happening, unaware of what was to come. Logan came in and tossed me a water, his trailer steaming hot.

"Thanks," I said, "You see this?" I pointed to the screen where the news talked about a Dr. Trask and his newly approved Sentinel/Mutant hunting program. The government supposedly had been debating about it for months. I guess they made up their minds. No more Mutants...

"The hell's a Sentinel?" he asked as he poured himself some whiskey. Obviously he didn't bother offering me a glass in my condition. I watched the screen as he sat down next to me on the small mattress.

"Some sort of robot. They're saying it can transform." I said. Logan took a sip of his drink and shook his head.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"Nothing the great Wolverine can't take," I said. He grinned and finished his glass.

"We'll see." He said. That's when the phone rang. Logan got up and answered the phone, looking at me as he lights a cigar.

"It's the Professor," he said to me and then his expression made me confused. I wasn't sure what was going on. Logan then hangs up and quickly walks outside, looking around. I followed after him, looking outside too.

"What's going on?" I asked him. He shook his head and looked at me.

"Those Sentinel things... Charles thinks Raven must've been a part of it. He wants everyone to group up at the mansion. He said he's been getting visions." Logan roughly explains.

Now, Logan smokes his cigar next to me while I look into the sunset as if Erik and the X-Men were right behind the horizon. I knew Erik sent me away with Logan for a reason, I just never understood what it was about. I... think I know, now. A few moments of silence pass over, then it hits me. I scream as I clench my stomach and sink to the ground. Logan looks at me in panic, dropping his cigar on the ground as he crouches beside me, his arms holding me up.

Liquids start pouring out of me. I scream in pain as he looks at my stomach.

"I think my water broke!" I yell, gritting my teeth and gripping his arm tightly. He nods frantically, unsure what to do. He can't take me to a hospital. Not with what's going on. He helps me up and carries me to the small bathroom and sets me in the tub carefully. He runs his hand through his hair and pulls my shirt off. "L-Logan! Something's not right." I say, gesturing to the blood starting to replace the clear leaking fluids.

"Aw shit! What am I supposed to do! I'll-I'll call Erik-"

"No! Don't call him." I yell, grabbing his arm. He nods and sits back down, staring at my bulging stomach.

"Logan, listen-" I yell in pain as I feel my insides shifting, "You have to cut me open!" I say, gasping and panting loudly. He shakes his head.

"What! (Y/N)-" I cut him off and pull him closer.

"You have to cut me open, goddammit! Do it!" I say before crying in pain again. He nods and panics, forcing one blade out of his fist, and carefully lining it up according to my instruction. He sweats and sweats, unsure, then I nod and tell him I'm ready. He looks at me, afraid of hurting me.

Then, he sticks the claw inside of me, as carefully as he can and not too deep. I scream in pain and throw my head back, the pain making me weaker. He yells as he cuts across my belly, blood pouring out into the tub. He then freaks out, looking at what he did in horror. I scream and cry, tears rolling down my cheeks as retracts his claw and digs through the flesh to find a tiny little newborn. He pulls it out and uses his other hand to claw the umbilical chord off with a yell. Blood just starts filling the tub. Logan holds my bloody son to his chest, wiping him down as best and carefully he can with a towel. He looks at me and panics, unsure of what to do. He sets the wrapped up baby down on the floor and holds my head, gawking at the blood coming out of my torn stomach.

"...Logan. You have to stitch me up-" I say, whimpering with pain. Logan nods, and picks me up, leaving the wailing baby on the bathroom floor. He sets me on the bed with determination and presses the sheets against my wound.

"Hold this!" He commands, as he scrambles through the cabinets for the med-kit. He finally finds it and rushes to the bed, looking at my weak face. He moves my hand and the sheets to the other side as he starts piercing and weaving the stitches. I cry with pain. My son doesn't stop crying and it only makes me more scared. He frantically weaves, trying to stay calm. He makes me cover the side he already stitched with the towel as he works on the other side. I start to close my eyes. He starts to get blurry. The only thing I can hear is my own son wailing in the other room as everything turns to black...