Summary: You are the sister of Charles Xavier. You are part of the Avengers and dating Bucky Barnes. Unbeknownst to you Bucky is having an affair with Natasha. When you catch them in the act, things go downhill from there. You are a Mutant with similar powers to Jean, only with Immortality thrown in.
Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Bucky X Natasha, Logan Howlett X Reader
Warnings: Angst, Violence, Cheating, Feelings of worthlessness, Depression.
The days had flown by in a haze of color. Days filled with sparring and forced laughter, with trying to be the person you once were. You had forced yourself to feel, to smile, to laugh, and you were slowly making progress. Lately, it had been less about forcing and more about living. You could surprise yourself by laughing without having to think that maybe you should first. The numbness was still there, but it was less. The wall was weaker. Day by day you had gotten better, closer to who you once had been.
Ultimately, you felt ready to go on missions again, which had brought you to your current predicament.
Grabbing your assailant by the hair, you bash his head into the wall twice before dropping him to the floor. Daintily stepping over him, you make your way into the room containing the servers. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission, but, as usual, you had encountered more resistance than you thought there would be. Inserting the flash drive into the USB port, you start the download, while straining your senses for any movement outside. Which is why it takes you a minute to notice the intel that is flashing across the screen, currently being downloaded.
You suck in a sharp breath as you backtrack through the files. What the hell? Panic mounting, you scan the information as quickly as you can. Your movements are jerky as you detach the flash drive, and make your way back to the jet as quickly as you can. A few stragglers get in your way but are dispatched with a flurry of movement or a flick of power.
Stepping onto the jet, you nod at Logan when he asks if you got what you came for. Plopping down in the seat opposite him, you let out a long defeated sigh.
“You alright kiddo?” he asks worriedly.
Raising your gaze to his, you swallow down the lump forming in your throat. “No. We have a problem. We need to get back ASAP.” Urgency bleeds into your tone. Logan studies you intently for a moment before nodding once and turning his attention back to flying the jet.
Thirty minutes later, you hurry through the mansion, desperately needing to get to Charles. You spot him speaking with Storm and send out a mental call. He pauses briefly, nods minutely, and excuses himself from Storm. You trail behind him, fear for the people you love setting off every nerve in your body, making you jumpy.
“We have a problem,” you say, once the doors to his office have closed behind you. As you plonk your butt into a chair, the exhaustion you feel is palpable, worming its way into your mind. “I found a classified op outlining an attack on the Mansion, Charles.They intend to kidnap me and morph my power into something dark. They want another phoenix.”
He stares at you for a full ten seconds. “Who does?” he finally asks.
“Hydra. They want to use me to take out the Avengers. They have plans to launch an assault on the compound and recapture the Winter Soldier.” Pinching the bridge of your nose you forge on. “They want to use us against each other, Charles. They want to use me against James.” Breath hitching in your throat, you try your best to quell the tide of tears threatening to stem over. Not now, you think. You’ve been so numb for so long, you don’t need the return of these feelings now. Not now when feeling nothing makes things easier. If you let the fear in, let the emotions return now, you will break. And if you break… will you ever be able to patch yourself back together?
“We must warn them,” Charles replies. “And we must get you to safety.”
“I am not sitting idly by while the people I love are in danger, Charles!” you snap. You need to do something, be in the action, or you’ll go crazy. If you’re too still, you’ll feel and lose what little control you’ve gained these last weeks.
“What do you propose we do, (y/n)?” he inquires.
Steeling yourself for your next words, you breathe deeply before you reply, “I need to go back. I have to help.” He makes to protest but you hold up your hand. “I have to do this, Charlie.”
Though he sighs, Charles nods able to understand your needs, perhaps even better than you can with how he’s been in your head lately chip, chip, chipping away at your walls.. Placing his fingers against his temple he sends out a call for Logan.
The silence stretches between you while you await Logan’s arrival, each deeply absorbed in your own thoughts. You hear the tell-tale shuffle of Logan outside the door, and a small smile plays on your lips. He throws open the door without knocking, cigar dangling from his lips, hair in disarray, and grease stains covering him from the waist up.There isn’t an inch of skin on his forearms which isn’t covered in some kind of black stain, and his once white wife-beater is now a murky, sweat stained grey with patches of black where he’d clearly wiped his hands.
You quirk a brow at him, lips twitching, and playfully quip, “No time for a shower?”
He cocks a brow and chews on the end of his cigar, the look on his face the one that calls you smartass without needing to voice the word. “Trying to get me outta my clothes already, sweetheart?” he shoots back, a smirk spreading around the mangled cigar. You roll your eyes but Charles clears his throat meaningfully before you get a chance to fire back.
“I have an errand for you and (Y/n),” he says, putting an end to your bickering. The spoilsport.
Logan groans knowing instinctively he’s not going to like whatever this errand will be. Finally removing the cigar from his lips, he mutters, “Ah hell.”
Twenty minutes, and one awkward phonecall to Tony later, you head for your shower as Logan heads for his. Stripping off your soiled combat suit, you step under the spray, allowing the hot water to massage some of the tension out of your tight shoulders. You know that going back to the compound will open wounds not yet healed, hurts not yet dealt with, but you had little choice in the matter.
Staying at the mansion would put the children and your family in danger. Sure they were special children, but they were nowhere near ready to be X-men, and Charles could take care of himself, but that didn’t mean you would let him if leaving made that choice unnecessary. You had to leave, and you had to warn The Avengers. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but you had little choice in the matter. Still, if you spent an extra ten minutes hiding out in your shower, not yet ready to face what was coming, who was going to call you on it?
Stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a towel you make your way into your bedroom. Logan is leaning against the opposite wall, your bags packed at his feet. You wonder if he even washed the grease off, or if it was just hidden under the long sleeved plaid shirt for no one that dirty could get ready that fast without cutting a few corners.
“I’ll be ten minutes,” you inform him. He grunts his understanding, a very Logan thing to do. It helps you feel the tiniest bit better. Like this is all normal and you can get through what comes next. “Thank you for packing for me.”
He arches a brow in your direction. “Are you gonna be alright, kid?” he asks hesitantly. “I don’t know if going back there is the best decision for ya.”
Sighing, you step behind a screen to change. “What choice do I have, Logan? Should I let them burn? Become what everyone is afraid I will become?” Zipping up the fly of you jeans you reach for the bra hanging over the top of the screen. “I will not stay out of this fight. I will protect the people I care for. No matter the cost.” Pulling a shirt over your head, you step out from behind the screen.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Your eyes dart to Logan and immediately lock with his. They’re hard, hot with the anger in them. But you can see the fear living there, the desperation hidden behind layers of gruffness and his ‘I don’t care’ attitude which isn’t fooling anyone. The guy’s got a marshmallow center, soft and gooey, and he’s afraid. Afraid that he’ll be called on to do the unthinkable a second time.
A flash of memory flits through your mind, but instead of Jean standing before him, his claws through her body, it’s you standing on that hill. You shake your head to clear the image. There’s only one problem with his fear. Those claws of his, while painful, can’t kill you.
Nodding slowly, you walk across the room, reminded with every step just what a predator he can be as he straightens up to loom large, seeming to suck the air from the room with his determined scowl. Reaching for his hand, you pass a feather light caress over his knuckles. Over the claws which have taken more lives than either of you care to count. He curls his hand into a fist, pulling it away. A warning growl rises in his chest. An argument is brewing, one you stop by placing your finger against his lips.
When his silence is guaranteed, you shift your fingers to the stubble of his cheek. Coarse hair, rough beneath your fingertips, leads up into his sideburns. Brushing your thumb over his cheekbone, you feel him relax under the soft touch, a wild thing tamed for the moment and willing to listen. “Logan. I’m not Jean. I won’t fail in this. I’m not her. You’re not going to have to make that sacrifice. Not again.”
His eyes search yours, holding you there, looking deep for something that you can’t define. When his piercing gaze darkens, the hard eyes filling with an emotion that isn’t fear or anger, but another that you aren’t sure you wish to name, you freeze before the suddenly hunting Wolverine. It shocks you further when his hand closes around the nape of your neck. The other bands across your back, and he jerks you to him. His mouth is on yours, hot, hard, demanding. Searing through you. Kissing you with an intensity long forgotten. When he lifts his head, you inhale hard, your lungs desperate for air. Heart beating wildly in your chest, you stare up at him in shock and can only think, Fuck…
Logan smirks a wide grin and runs his hand through your hair. “Alright, let’s get moving,” he says, grabbing up your bags and striding purposefully from the room with a nonchalance you envy, as if he hadn’t just kissed you breathless.
He leaves you standing alone, wondering what the hell just happened.
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