Bring Me to Life

The days were too long, the weeks dragging into months. She hadn't been in Westchester for a year and a half, and it had been that long since Warren had lost his wings. She'd learned to stop blaming herself for it, even if a part of her still held to that belief, because it was her only connection to him.

Liv gradually made her way back to the mansion, arriving almost two years to the day she'd left, only hours after learning that Warren didn't want to see her once the surgery was over and he'd woken up.

Treetreetings were warm and heartfelt; she'd run into Logan and Rogue briefly in British Columbia, traveling with them for two weeks before parting ways. They had both been worried about her since they'd last seen her.

"How're ya doin'?" Logan asked, keeping her in his embrace until she answered.

"Been better," she replied honestly. "I didn't want to come back at first."

"It's always hard." Logan smiled awkwardly. "Your room is still open, believe it or not."

Liv shrugged. "Doesn't surprise me. Xavier knew I was coming back." She closed her eyes for a moment, then sighed and opened them again. "Could you help me get my bags up to my room?"

Logan nodded. "Sure thing, darlin'." He bent to pick up the two heavier bags and followed her up the stairs, keeping an eye on her once inside her room. His eyebrows went up when she took off her jacket, revealing pale shoulders bared by a tank top.

"What the hell is on your shoulders, Liv?"

The pain was evident in her voice when she answered. "Got drunk one night and decided to get a tattoo."

He raised an eyebrow. The marks on her back were a black outline of angel wings that sprouted from her shoulderblades. "Interesting choice."

She took a breath and couldn't keep the tears from falling. "I live with this every day, Logan, this pain. It's unbearable sometimes." Liv took off her sunglasses to reveal her eerily white eyes. "It's hard to sleep."

"No one blames you, darlin'. You did what had to be done, and no one else would have chose anything different. He would have died otherwise."

"He's as good as dead where he is now, Logan!" Liv cried, flinging her arms wide and moving to the window to stare blindly out. "He is dead. He'll die among people who don't care for him, and when he's gone, I'll mourn him. I'll be mourning him until I die."

Logan swallowed, never sure what to do with a hysterical woman, but his experience with Rogue told him that he should try to comfort her. His heavy boots sounded on the wooden floor as he crossed the room. "Liv, can I touch you?" He usually knew better than to touch her without asking first.

When she nodded, he stepped forward again and put his arms around her, tucking her head beneath his chin and stroking her hair. It was only when he touched her that she began to cry, long, choking sobs that wracked her tiny body. Logan sat down on the windowseat and pulled her down with him, shushing her and rocking her slightly. "Darlin', it'll be ok. You're home now, you're safe."

"But he -- he's not -- safe. He's not -- home," she stuttered between sobs, her breathing erratic and almost painful. "Do you think he's lonely?"

"I think that maybe he's too angry to be lonely," Logan replied, his hand smoothing along her back. "I know what that's like; you're so caught up in your anger that you can't think of anything else, can't feel anything else."

"Do you think he hates me?"

Logan shrugged. "Maybe he does,an'an't tell you for sure. But you have to realize that you did the right thing, and that Hank would have done it even without your suggestion of doing it." He pulled away slightly, then leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Get some sleep, Liv, you look like death warmed over."

Liv sighed and nodded. "Yeah, thanks for helping me with my bags." She managed to smile as she listened to him leave the room. "And for helping me with my heart."