asongwithin | Duplicity Inbox

goddammit

i'm on my way

[ He edges up to their telepathic link, not so much talking to her as in her general direction. ]

Jeannie, she did it to herself. She was cutting up her arms.

[ He has to share some the distress and guilt he felt at the sight of it with someone, or it'll fester inside him. ]

[ Connected like this, Logan can actively feel her heart break. ]

Fuck, Logan.

[ She doesn't curse often, even at her angriest. This is a raggedly vulnerable snarl, and it would probably translate into actual property damage if she wasn't clutching the psimitar at her side as she soared towards the Loft. ]

[ He doesn't hide the way his anger matches hers. Not directed at Laura -- never directed at Laura -- but at the city that's brought her back to this dark place in her soul, and at himself for being part of the source of those thoughts.

The animal scrabbles at the edges of his thoughts, snarling: rip shred tear kill it kill it -- ]

Yeah, I know. She needs someone to help her out in a way I can't.

[ The predator in Jean - the Phoenix, and everything in her soul that resonated with it - growls in vicious harmony, and she desperately wishes it was that easy, that simple.

Laura needs an entirely different side of her right now. It will be at the forefont, by the time she arrives - it's a silent promise between them - but for now, oh, she enjoys the thought of tearing into everything that has ever made Logan's daughter feel like this. (She remembers the first time she saw Rachel, with her hound markings on full display; she remembers the nightmares that trapped Nate in his past.)

It strikes her, finally, that she and Logan share a very bitter sentiment: their children always suffer because of who they are. ]

I hate it, Logan.

[ It's a dark and ugly mirror, but something in Logan rejoices at finding that echo of rage, teeth and talons primed to hurt anything that hurts their family, to seek the bloodiest and most brutal vengeance on their enemies. In the real world, he has to grip the glass in his hands to keep himself from hurling it across the room -- or worse.

Rachel, he agrees, his thoughts joining with hers. Nate, Cable, Gabby, Akihiro -- the list goes on and on, not only the children related to them by blood, but also the ones brought into the fight by their actions, or for simply wanting to exist. ]

Jean. [ He struggles to form her name in the wash of white hot rage. But he has to, has to be the one to step in when she's burning too bright-- that's their own promise. ]

Jeannie. She's asleep. Come here.

[ The window to the loft is open; he barely feels the cold as he climbs out of it onto the roof. ]

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cw: self harm

cw: self harm

cw: self harm

cw: self harm

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