Falling asleep in a full size bed, with Kiara inside the circle of his arms, was sheer heaven for an exhausted Logan. The sound of the tree branches brushing against the second floor glass window oddly soothing...
*FLASH* Kiara's smiling face shoving him out a door...
*FLASH* waking up groggy, arms bound behind him...
*FLASH* faceless, uniformed men dragging an unconscious Kiara past him...
*FLASH* PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN...
*FLASH* screaming, endless screaming in his ears...
*FLASH* open eyes staring at a forest floor...
*FLASH* Kiara lying motionless on a cold, tiled floor...
Logan woke up in a cold sweat, shuddering and fighting to bring his breathing under control. Kiara shifted beside him and raised her head from the pillow.
"Logan?" He swallowed quickly, and fought back the sudden moisture in his eyes, before turning to face her.
"It's nothing, darling. Go back to sleep..."
"Another nightmare?" Her voice was still fuzzy, but he could feel her struggling to wake up more, and he lay back down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.
"Shhh... sleep... it was nothing..." He felt her sigh against his bare skin.
"You might feel a little better if you talked about them, Logan..." Panic at the thought of telling her he'd again seen her dead (?) on a floor somewhere welled up inside him, and he shook his head brusquely.
"Kiara... please... just sleep..." Another sigh, this one resigned.
"Alright... but -" His finger on her lips interrupted her.
"No. No 'buts', just sleep." He let his fingers idlely stroke the skin of her shoulder until he was sure she was again fast asleep. Then he lay staring at the ceiling, trying to slow the pounding of his heart. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her broken body lying there... Soundlessly, he slid out from underneath Kiara and gently lay her back down on the bed. If he wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon, he might as well let her sleep in peace. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he padded out of the room on silent feet and followed the hallway to the stairs at the end. The ones that led up to the roof...
The night sky was breathtaking, the cold air bringing the stars into sharp focus. He lay back against the rooftop and stared up at them. Mind endlessly replaying what he'd dreamed... hoping like hell that it wasn't some sort of premonition... He heard the footsteps before he even smelt him. Didn't move, just waited for him to get close enough so he wouldn't have to raise his voice to be heard.
"Stop hiding in the shadows, Cyke. I know you're there." The younger man slipped from the shadows surrounding the doorway to the roof and walked slowly towards him.
"I wasn't hiding, Logan. I just was wondering what you were doing up here - with no shirt or shoes on, and it being fourty degrees out..." Logan snorted.
"What are you - the fashion police?" Scott let out a strangled cough, one that sounded suspiciously like smothered laughter.
"No. Besides, Logan, your 'fashion' is beyond anyone's help."
"What the hell are you out here for, Cyke?" Logan growled, rubbing tired eyes. Even in the dim moonlight, he could see Scott's face lose its half smile.
"I'm out here because I wonder why a team mate feels the need to seek refuge on a rooftop in the middle of winter," came the solemn reply.
"It's none of your damn business."
"When my wife wakes up crying, and doesn't know why, it's my business. Why aren't you sleeping tonight, Logan?" All the anxiety from the nightmare, all the rage and frustration boiled over and Logan lept to his feet. He stalked towards a silent Scott, and jabbed him in the chest with one finger.
"*You* have nightmares, night after night, about your *wife* lying dead somewhere, bub, and then ask me why I'm not sleeping," he snarled, before shoving past the other man, slamming the door behind him as he descended the stairs back into the mansion.
Scott didn't follow him.
He crept back into the room and sprawled in the oversized chair near the bedside. Watching Kiara as she slept. Counting each time her chest rose with a new breath. Each time she moved her head. Each time she murmured something softly under her breath...
She'd only been back in his life for a few days now and he already knew he'd never be able to deal with losing her a second time. The first time, he'd been lucky in a twisted sense - he hadn't been able to even remember what he'd lost. But now, even with huge gaps in his memory, she'd slipped right back into the place in his heart that he hadn't even known was empty. He'd missed out on fifteen years with her. Fifteen years they'd lived apart in loneliness and pain. They had so much to make up for. A lifetime spent apart... There was so much he wanted to do, wanted to say to her and he hardly knew where to begin. And now, these nightmares had him terrified that he'd never get the chance.
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