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[asongwithin]

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[snikthatch]

[ That laugh, the look on her face -- he has to concentrate on not kissing her again, just to taste a little bit of it. After so long, being with her for real had been so good, almost addictive, and then Duplicity had whisked him away. But now they're here, together, and he feels like a junkie offered another shot at his favorite vice.

He's careful, though, for her sake, and for Scott's sake. Just reaches his arm along the back of the couch so he can touch her shoulder. ]

Yeah, kinda. [ He'd been witness to some of that joy, after all. The small moments of them figuring out how to be a family. That thought brings him to memories and regrets of his own. ]

My kids are there, Jeannie, the ones that wanna know me. Akihiro, Laura, Gabby. They're -- we've got a chance on Krakoa. Time to figure out who we are to each other. I never thought we'd have that.

[asongwithin]

[ So many people never realise how careful Logan can be, how tender. Quite gratitude and endless fondness radiate into that touch, and she reaches up to lay her own hand over his, feather-light. ]

Everything we ever wanted. [ Well, not quite; she'd prefer a world where mutantkind didn't have to cloister themselves, and wishes the future had turned in that direction. She wants to keep fighting for that.

But damn, does a true sanctuary sound nice in the meantime. A place where they have time to breath, and mend, and grow. The school had been that for her, but it had stopped feeling safe a very long time ago and apparently that just gets worse, not better.

More children slaughtered on their lawn. More graves and statues and useless apologies.

Her hand has gone tight above his, and tight back home in her own sheets; she relaxes it with a slight, rueful smile. ]

I'd call it too good to be true but I suppose Sinister hanging around like a bad smell mitigates things.

[ She's trying to sound light, but that smiles flickers into a scowl for a moment. Her children and Logan's, that's amazing, but having them anywhere near Sinister, or Apocalypse?

She doesn't need to tell him what either did to their son, but there are ripples of memory all the same, jagged flashes disrupting the landscape; desperate chaos in the ancient catacombs where Phoenix died, trembling flesh warping into steel beneath Hank's gentle fingers, becoming a knight in shining armour in Nate's psyche only to realise it was futile.

When her eyes focus on him properly again, her expression is a blend of aching hope and profound weariness. ]

[snikthatch]

[ He has his own problems with Essex and the rest of the crew they've assembled around the Council tables. There are plenty of mutants welcomed to Krakoa's verdant shores that he'd rather see in the darkest pits of Hell, but change has come, and with it the realisation that maybe it's worth more than just one man's grudges.

Jeannie, though -- he doesn't like that look in her eyes, nor the way Scott had veered close to a panic attack when he'd mentioned it. It's easier for him to understand their pain than to weigh his own, especially when he knows there are plenty around who think he'd be better off locked away too. There's a reason he withheld so much of X-Force from Jean and why he's keeping a high wall around it now. ]

Nothing's ever easy. Not for us. [ He picks up on some of the thoughts floating between them. He had been Apocalypse's henchman for a while, his Death. It's not something he likes to remember for very long.

He pulls his hand out from underneath hers and gently brushes his fingers over her cheek, touches her brow with his thumb, the small fond touches he hasn't been able to indulge in for months. ]

But it's worth it. Havin' you in my arms is one of the reasons why.

[asongwithin]

[ She believes so fiercely, so desperately, in redemption; how could she not? Phoenix, she'd said once, is not about vengeance, and neither are the X-Men.

But there have always been exceptions, hate too vast and too ugly to allow that sort of grace. When she and Nathan killed Apocalypse, she'd felt nothing but vicious satisfaction. It's hard to conceive of circumstances where she'd do anything else; not after what he'd done to people she loved, not after living through a world remade in his image.

That isn't the sort of person she feels comfortable being. She wants moments like this, tranquil and tender, to matter more. She wants -

She wants the balance to come down on the side of love. ]

I don't trust it. But I do trust you.

[ She hasn't noticed her clothing flickering again, from black and bronze to white and gold. ]

[snikthatch]

[ He knows that outfit. It hurts to see it here, but it's comforting, too. What it says about her state of mind.

Leaning in, he follows the path of his thumb with the brush of his lips, then nudges his not-really-there forehead against hers. Takes a breath there, remembering. ]

No matter what happens, Jeannie. You and me in a blaze of glory.