Sapphire Blue
Chapter 5
by
Lady-T
Disclaimer: Not mine, especially the Aerosmith lyrics scattered around. I'm not Steven Tyler and I can't fit a whole grapefruit in my mouth like he can, so don't sue me. Virtually everything belongs to someone else.
Dedicated to all those people I've accidentally plagiarized in some way, shape or form. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. No, really it is. . .
For he will not lay upon man more than right. . .
Lillah surveyed the room with interest and more than a little skepticism.
"Nice place Logan. You sure know how to treat a girl right."
He grunted noncommittally and closed the door behind him, shutting out the snow that was threatening to form a drift in the doorway. It was a small roadside lodge he had decided to stop at, for no reason more than the weather was getting too bad to drive and it had been the first place they had come to that didn't stink of rats or whores.
Two large beds were pushed up against one wall, opposite the pokey, clinical porcelain bathroom.
Lillah nudged her foot against the long wrinkle in the threadbare, green carpet that ran like a ridge across the worn floor. Damp stained the ceiling with murky yellow splotches while, in the corners, the drab wallpaper slowly peeled. Its decent revealed years of neglected paintwork and crumbling plaster, but the beds were clean, the water in the taps was hot and the air had that baked quality only ever achieved when the heating has been on too high. It was a shithole by all accounts, but it was a warm one and that would do.
Lillah threw her stuff, such as it was, onto the far bed and looked at Logan who was still standing awkwardly in the entrance.
"Well," She glanced at him, "This really is one classy joint you've brought me to."
"Yeh, well enjoy it Kid. Don't open the door to anyone and I'll probably see you in the morning."
He turned to leave, his bag still slung over his shoulder.
"Logan wait! What do you mean 'probably in the morning'?" She looked at him, baffled. He couldn't be leaving her now could he?
He turned and thew her a half-hearted glare. "I mean, I'll see you in the morning. This is your room. I'm not staying here."
She looked confused for a second and Logan winced internally. He hated being so cold to her, but he had to distance himself. He was going too far too fast and the only way he knew to get out of this was to get himself as far from her as physically and emotionally possible.
He could never bring himself to hate her, but maybe he could make her hate him.
Lillah looked at him quizzically. "But you only booked one room and there's two beds here."
"Yeh. So?" Again, his stomach knotted with a pang of guilt at his brusque answer.
"So where are you going to sleep?"
He pointed his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the van as an icy wind rattled the windows of the tiny room.
"Out there," He grunted, and turned to leave once more, trying to wipe Lillah's look of confusion and loneliness out of his mind. It didn't work and he was really starting to hate himself.
"Out there? But you'll freeze!"
He didn't reply, turning from her and pacing quickly across the floor back to the door.
But as he turned his back, there was a sharp gasp from behind him as if Lillah were suddenly in pain. The sound cracked through him as he fought the urge to turn around and run back to her.
"Logan, wait!" Her breath caught in her throat and she gasped again then grunted in pain.
Grudgingly he turned his head and saw her staring at him, her eyes wide and a light sheen of sweat breaking out over how pale brow.
"Please don't leave." The request was simple and he paused, his hand on the door. She seemed to be rooted to the spot, hugging herself as if it were freezing.
"What is it kid?" A wave of panic swept through him. He dropped his grasp on the knob and started towards her, concerned. His bag slumped to the floor behind him.
She looked pained for a second. "I'm scared Logan." Lillah looked deep into his eyes. "I can feel it. Something's going to happen."
The girl had gone white as a sheet. Her hands were shaking slightly and her eyes were glowing with the faintest tinge of blue light.
"What do you see?" He asked her, stepping closer, his voice hoarse with gravity.
"I don't know." She looked at him, her eyes wide with fear, when suddenly her body jolted and her eyes started to glow with brilliant intensity. The prickling sliced through her skin as she screamed.
She felt like she was choking as the images ripped into her body.
~Flash~
It was snowing hard.
Pain in her head, and her back seemed to burn.
Someone familiar was staring at her, laughing.
~Flash~
The leering face of her attacker, one scorched and torn into her memory.
He laughed as something glinted in the weak sunlight.
Still it snows and her head pounds in the icy air.
~Flash~
He brought back with him the feeling of the pain, the humiliation.
And cold, hard blackness.
Soon. . .
She wanted to scream and to run, but her limp and cold body slumped forwards onto a concerned Logan. She wrapped her fingers round his shirt and buried her head in his chest. Hot tears soaked through the fabric as her body shook.
"Please don't leave me alone tonight," She begged, her body feeling ice cold against his own. "He's coming back for me. . . he's going to come back!"
Logan stood there, speechless. He didn't understand but he couldn't leave her like this.
He, her attacker, was dead. He'd killed him with his own hands and there was no way he had survived this time. Logan had personally checked his frozen form, hiding the body from the main road. His pulse was gone and his skin as cold as the ground on which he lay.
"Darlin', he's not going to come back."
Her fingers wrapped tighter round his shirt as he spoke and she shook her head against his chest.
"He's still out there Logan. I could feel him like he was crawling through my mind. He's not going to give up."
She was still shaking and Logan could tell that whatever she had seen had scared her. He couldn't see how it was possible for it to come true, but Logan felt her clinging to him and it was tearing him apart. He hadn't believed her last time and she had nearly died because of it, but the man was gone now. . .
He didn't know how to react. He wanted to comfort her and feel her close so much, but how could he?
But the figure clinging to him now seemed so small and pathetic it moved something inside of him. Gingerly, still uncertain whether he could touch her, he lightly wrapped a comforting arm around her quivering shoulders. Almost at his touch she, sobbed pitifully, like a child so lost and alone.
So alone. . .
Just like him.
He knew the pain she suffered. Be it physical or mental, pain was pain and he had felt enough of it in his lifetime to never wish it on even the worst of his enemies.
Instinctively he pulled her closer, embracing her with both arms now, somehow trying to ease away what she felt. It was something they shared.
Feeling her cling to him tighter, he glanced at his knuckles. Unscarred, unchanged for as long a he could remember. To anyone else there was nothing more to them, but. . .
Every time.
This was what they had.
He tried not to tell people, never let them know how much it hurt. Never show any weakness because then they'd won, but every time. . .
There was *Snikt* and the burning started. It was a pain he had become used to, familiar as cheap whisky, but still it burned. It was the heat and the pain of white hot metal. Something that cuts deep and tears flesh from the inside out. Every time, flames curled up his arms from the fire between his fingers, burning to the bone and up, never ending in its cruelty.
As he clutched her closer he screwed up his face, closing his eyes tightly, suddenly getting lost in the sensation of his memory. The past brings nothing but pain.
Pain and blackness and he didn't want that any more.
"Please don't leave," She whispered against his shirt.
"I'm not goin' anywhere, darlin'."
* * * * *
The night crawled in languorously, wrapping wisps of darkness around the world below as the snow settled into gentle, undulating drifts.
In the synthetic yellow light of the cabin, Logan stretched out on the protesting bed and rested his head down into the pillow. His jacket and his denim shirt were slung over the post on the end of the bed, his boots in an untidy heap on the floor beside him.
In the corner of the room a portable radio played quietly to itself. Some half-baked, hokey, little station was all he could pick up on it, and now the gentle swaying rhythms of classic, late 50's rock and roll were the only things filling the warm air.
"I thought you said you just kind of saw things, or had a gut feeling? It seems like more than that."
Logan called out through to her through the bathroom door. He'd told her to go have a bath and calm her nerves or something, but she'd been in there over an hour now and he was starting to get bored.
There was a grunt and some slight splashing, and a confused, sleepy voice echoed through the door back to him.
"Mnah. . . whu?"
Logan shook his head and repeated his question. "What's with the eyes, kid?"
"Oh. . . " Her voice was a little flat and still sounded half asleep. She hadn't realised exactly how tired she had been until she dozed off in the bath.
She had been dreaming again and, like the last time, she had dreamed of HIM. She had been woken by Logan's question just as she thought she would explode with need, and had found herself sitting in a tub-full of lukewarm water. It had brought her back to reality with a painful crash. Her cheeks were burning and her whole body ached with an emptiness she thought she would never be free from. She splashed her face with the cool water to try and snap herself out of it, but the memory of his touch still seared at her skin. His eyes had told of more, they always did. So much more than what she received. But she would have to wait. The moment would come when it was time.
Logan waited patiently and listened to the sloshing water as she pulled herself out of the bath.
Her voice echoed through the door again, sounding a little uncertain. "Most things I just kind of feel. Some things though. . . " She faltered slightly. "Have you ever felt like you were drowning?"
Logan closed his eyes. "Yeh," He growled. He knew what that was like. He'd felt it so many times he had lost count. He'd felt it every night for the last 15 years.
She paused for a second. "It's like drowning in air. Some images are so strong and they fill my mind so fast that I can't find my way past them. They're so strong that I can see every detail. I can feel everything like it was here and now and I can't escape from them until they're over."
She sighed and rested her head against the cool glass of the mirror over the sink. Her mind floated back to the warmth and pleasure of the dream she had been snapped from. She felt so empty inside she would have given anything to feel the presence of her midnight lover.
Her hopes, her dreams, her life. . .
"Sometimes I don't want to escape," She whispered to herself.
* * * * *
Logan was perched on the end of the bed when she emerged form the bathroom. Her feet were bare and one of his shirts draped loosely round her shoulders, dropping to about half way down her thighs. Her wet hair dripped down her back and her cheeks were still slightly flushed. The way the fabric trailed round soft curves showed she wore nothing underneath.
He could smell the sex on her like perfume and it seemed to wash from her in an intense, unfulfilled wave. Out of habit, he breathed deeply, drinking in every last scent. Hot flesh assailed his senses, and a wistful sigh escaped his lips.
He wanted to hold her to him and feel the softness of her lips yielding under his.
He checked the lustful moan that threatened to escape his throat and he mentally shook himself in disbelief at where his thoughts were wandering. There was no way, no way at all he could do that, but damn, she was so beautiful. . .
He ran his hands through his hair and had to clench his fists to feel the pressing pain of the claws beneath his skin to focus him back to the here and now. He swallowed hard and tried to ignore how constricting his jeans were beginning to feel.
He glanced over at her and saw her staring at him, one eyebrow slightly quirked.
"What you starin' at kid?"
His tone was a little gruffer than normal and slightly choked as he tried to keep a tight control of his emotions. He looked fidgety and uncomfortable, and his eyes flitted from one side of the room to the other in some vague attempt to avoid staring at her.
"You're sitting on my bed," she replied.
He jumped up as if it were hot and shifted to the other bed, grumbling a muffled apology. She slumped down on the creaking mattress to face him.
"Logan, you look about as comfortable as a man who's had poison oak stuffed in his pants. What's wrong?"
"Nothing kid, just go to sleep."
She stared at him again for a second before sighing and padding over to stand in front of him. Her intoxicating scent floated from her warm body, assailing his senses and spinning them out of control. He could almost taste her, almost feel her skin under his, writhing in ecstasy and moaning his name. . .
Damn it, he had to stop thinking like that. . .
He clenched his fists and cursed himself once more.
Logan would have glowered at her as a warning to keep away from him right now, but glowering at her would have meant looking at her, and looking at her would have meant seeing those curves and legs and skin. He wanted to look at her, but seeing her delicious body would make him want her even more than he already did, and in his current state he figured that would just about drive him nuts. So he continued staring at every part of the room except for the bit that she was in.
"Logan, look at me."
He felt her fingers on his cheeks as she tilted his face up to look at hers. The smoothness of her fingertips was everything his mind had conjured. This was the first time she had touched him since they met and it sent little arcs of lightening shooting across his skin. His heart beat wildly as the desperate sensation of need gripped his stomach. She was touching him, oh God, she was touching him.
But still he pushed to fight it away.
Damn, he wanted to touch her back. . .
She sat down next to him and her hands dropped back into her own lap.
"Logan, We've got to talk."
He missed her touch already but looked on silently, watching her every move and devouring her scent hungrily. She was so close. . . all he had to do was reach out and touch her back. . . He so desperately wanted to caress her smooth cheeks, take her face in his hands and kiss her, show her how much he. . .
How much he. . .
He. . .
Loved her. . . ?
No. . . no he couldn't do that to her. He was part of the world that reminded her of the pain she had suffered. He was part of the loss.
He had to let this end, let her go on with her own life, without him.
Her gentle shifting as she sat beside him shook him slightly back to reality.
"I just wanted to thank you," She continued, "for all the things you've done for me. And for staying tonight." She added. "I know it seems stupid but I guess I just feel better knowing there's someone else around."
Lillah smiled weakly and paused, considering her next words.
"I'll never forget you. You've done so much for me but. . . I guess that it's really time I thought about moving on and letting you get back to your own life. . . "
Logan felt his heart sink as her words twisted their way into his head, shattering the gentle feeling of peace that had settled over the room.
Lillah's suggestion was no more and no less the idea he was going to put to her in the morning, but now the moment was here and he hated it. Tomorrow was an idea he could put off indefinitely, but there was no escape from now. Somehow it hurt so much more to know that it was her who was pushing him away.
Maybe it was because he knew that he would have been leaving because he cared about her too much to hurt her again.
He stared down at the space between them. "Oh."
It was all he could think to say and he hated himself for that too as her half-smile slipped away.
"Well then," She sighed. "I guess I'll talk to you in the morning. I only want to get as far as Laughlin City. After that I'll be out of your way, I promise." She looked deep into his eyes, killing him with her loneliness. "Sleep well Logan."
She got up from the bed sadly and shuffled back to her side of the room. Some small part of her had hoped that maybe he would protest, but he'd seemed so distant again that she felt like he'd almost been grateful to have been saved the bother of suggesting it.
She'd meant what she'd said. She would never forget him. He had done too much for that. But even being in this room with him, she already felt as if she was alone.
"Lillah, wait." The pain in her eyes had burrowed into his heart and he hated himself for hurting her. . . he'd promised he'd never do that but it'd happened without him even realising that he'd done anything.
She turned to see him stand, fixing her with a gaze so dark and intense she could almost see the conflict in his mind.
Her eyes locked with his she took a step back towards him and, as she stepped forward, her foot caught in the wrinkle of carpet.
She toppled forward ungracefully into Logan's unsuspecting arms, a little shriek of surprise escaping her lips, shattering the moment.
She blushed and pulled herself up from his grip, her cheeks blazing.
And it seemed the most innocent thing in the world when his lips accidentally grazed hers.
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