Title: Invincible

Author: Blu (blufurredbeast@yahoo.com)

Website: http://www.atomicfantasy.com/blufiction/

Rating: R

Pairing / Main characters: Iceman/Wolverine

Series/Sequel: complete

Summary: Bobby reflects on life, and the tragic death of his friend and lover.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel; story is copyright of Blu.

Archive/distribution: Not to be used without permission; contact the author.

Date: Sept 2001

Notes: Heavy and deep. Not proofread. Incomplete and disjointed by intention. Feedback is welcome.

Warning: Slash, death themes.

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Invincible

By Blu

 

"Put it on." I wanted to see him in it. I wanted to see his hard body make the fabric tight around his muscle. I wanted to see every crease. "Can I shave you, too?"

"Are you nuts?"

"Only for yours." I chuckled as I rolled out of the tangled sheets and put a hand on his thigh. I let my fingers run through the coarse hair on his legs. "Come on! It'll be fun! Why not?"

He gave me a lifted brow. "'Cuz!" he huffed, "That stuff just ain't right."

"Oh come on... pleeeeeeeeease?" I begged him.

"Ok."

*****

Sitting on the park bench. Looking out over the grass. It seemed so silly, I felt like I was in a movie. This wasn't how life should have been.

*****

When it happened I just wanted to cry. I didn't know what to do. I thought I might kill myself. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. If it hadn't been for Charles, Hank, Kitty... I might not be alive today.

*****

I remember lighting candles. Red. Scented oil. He came home with the bag and nearly dropped it.

"What in the hell..." he muttered through his cigar. He set the bag down and walked in awe through the appartment, following my trail of polaroids up the stiars through the bedroom and into the bathroom. I sat in a midnight blue robe - the terrycloth he had bought me for that Christmas. I stood up and dropped it to the floor with a seductive look. I was already getting off from the look he had in his eyes. That feral lust. I wanted him. Needed. Him. Take me.

"Happy Anniversary, Logan."

*****

Even now it's hard to think about. The day it happened. I remember. The hospital. God is it ever hard. Two years have gone by. I think about him every single day. So much. Much. God. So much fucking blood!

*****

There are so many things to remember. SOme days I just want a tape recorder to talk into. I have these thoughts. They just. Come. Into my head. I can't get rid of them sometimes. I want him back.

*****

I finally got over it. It took me two years of therapy and a lot of disassociation to do it. But I did. He wouldn't want me to go on like that. I couldn't go on like that. It was just insane. Near the end I could feel myself actually dying. I had never really thought about it before. I mean you always hear people talk about dying on the inside and going through life dead and all that. Always sounded like a lot of bullshit to me. Until that happened. I was. Each day I fell a little deeper into it. I could almost palpably feel the vortex of my depression sucking me down.

But Logan wouldn't have ever wanted that. He was a fighter. He was going to live. I should haev died first. It was supposed to be me who grew old and died. He should have lived.

*****

When it happened I was in shock. It took a long time for me to confront the memory.

We had been out. The team had come back from a mission in Australia. That had been a blast. It wasn't ever scary - being on missions. Not with Logan. As a team we were... almost indestructible. Or at least, it felt that way. A presence surrounded us. Everyone felt it. We were all in a bubble and were invincible.

Young. So young.

The mission went fine. We got out, cocky as anything. Hot. When Logan and I got home we shut ourselves up in the mountains and I don't think we came out for a good week. That was when he let me shave him. The only time. It was a nice time.

*****

I couldn't have known. We left the mountain. It was a blizzard. I had wnated to stay but Logan wanted to go. That last day we had fought. Pretty bad. It was my fault. He said he wanted to...

I said I couldn't. Wouldn't. I was so fucking dumb and stupid.

He stormed out and shortly after we packed and left.

I don't know what happened. He reached for me. We slid. I froze up and we both flew. The jeep toppled and hit a tree.

*****

"Take me. Take me. God take me, Logan. Yes. Yes harder. GOD yes!" It was hard in me and I was hard and he was hard around me and we were just a giant mass of sweat and heat and passion and it was that way for what seemed like forever.

That day took it all away.

Because of an argument.

He said it wasn't my fault - the therpaist. But how can you not blame yourself for something like that.

Now Pete is dead, too. Who's next. Some days I wonder. That's why I had to leave. I had to get away. I couldn't stick around any more and see who would be next. And now... Betsy, nearly Hank. I wish I hadn't come back.

*****

What happened to the days when we were invincible? When we could take on the world and not think twice? When Jean was the Phoenix and Stryfe ran rampant and Sinister twisted and pulled and the fucking sentinels too... we crushed it all with a thought. And went on. I thought it would always be that way.

*****

No one had thought he would die. I mean. Worse things. Right? Not simple car accident. That was too easy. That wasn't heroic. That wasn't honorable. It was pathetic. It was... it was...

*****

I never did forgive myself. I asked him if he wanted me to drive but he had been so angry he had just waved it away. I had thought of a song to give him, right before we crashed. A poem, actually. From a song. After I got home though, I couldn't. I took one looka t the CD and... I fucking cried like I was five. I still cry. That song killed me. It's like a piece of me is in it. Or a piece of him.

Sometimes. Crying - feels. Feels good. I hadn't cried in years before that happened. When you try to rationalize it... it's just hard. I wondered about so many things. Only two years. I grew 10.

*****

He was so fucking perfect and I... I never saw it. He was driving me home. I wish I could have driven him instead.

Now, today. All I think is good things. There's no use in crying - live for tomorrow. Do what you have to. He's home now. I'll be home, soon.

 

END