Breakfast
Eyelids fluttering open, Logan realised he was baking beneath the coarse bed sheets. The folds of the fabric were sealed in the folds of his flesh. His mouth felt parched, yet his tongue was drowning in an icy swamp that tasted bitterly acrid. Hair plastered to his forehead, he groaned as he pushed himself upright, licking his dry lips and peeling off the covers from his body; inhaled the balmy musk of his room and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. The second his bare feet made contact with the wooden floor, a shudder broke through his soma, knocking forward a yelp from his tight throat. Shrinking in on himself, bringing his knees up to his chest, making a gargled sound of shock as his entire frame convulsed.
When the chill abruptly subsided, he fell back onto the bed, letting his stocky legs go limp and hang over the edge, rubbing the sleep out of his face with both of his palms.
The mattress felt...wet.
Logan removed his hands from his visage before propping himself up with his elbows and twisting his body to examine where he had been laying seconds before.
“...eurgh…” he croaked, frowning and squinting in disgust at the large, Logan-shaped damp stain on the mattress. He shivered again.
With a grunt, Logan shakily got to his feet, eyes screwed shut against the sudden achy pain in his bones. To be fair, the pain was always there, but it just seemed worse that morning, for whatever reason. He ran a hand through his hair, gritting his teeth and cringing at how wet it felt, before taking a deep breath and staggering over to the wooden chest of drawers that contained his clothes.
He pulled out one of his white tank tops and a pair of jeans.
It took him a little longer than usual to get them on, which he didn’t seem to notice. What he did notice, however, was how - when he looked down at his waist - the jeans seemed to be larger than he remembered, or at least they had a wider girth than what he was used to.
Logan’s stomach growled - painfully. He bent over and wrapped his arms around his abdomen...but he was pretty damn sure his ribs had never been that easy to feel. Pulling up his once tight - but now oddly loose shirt, he experimentally placed his left forefinger against where he felt the left side of his rib cage end. Without thinking, he hooked his finger upward.
It went under the rib cage with ease.
He staggered, again, quickly rolling down his shirt, hissing at the sudden wave of nausea that hit him. His clothes were hanging off him, like that time he accidentally wore one of Hank’s jumpers.
Logan froze, before hastily grabbing a large black hoodie from his dresser to cloak his diminished frame.
If McCoy found out, if McCoy saw him like this...he’d be done for. He’d be stuck in the med bay for days. God - if any of the students saw him like this, saw their mentor, the invincible Wolverine like...this…
...if Remy saw him…
With a growl, Logan stormed out of his room, letting the light-headed daze that was still in his head shove the rest of those thoughts to the very back of his mind.
It wasn’t like he’d planned telling anyone, anyway.
Jubilation Lee sat, pouting, in her Care Bear-patterned pyjamas, idly twirling her breakfast - a pink plastic bowl of Froot Loops - in a clockwise movement with her spoon held between her right ring finger and thumb; her head rest against her left elbow which was leaning on the cool, yellow kitchen table
The morning was humid, as mornings commonly are after cold nights, and the kitchen was comfortably chilly amid the airless outdoors. A faint antiseptic smell lazily rested on the atmosphere as the distant sounds of the other residents of the mansion tickled the edges of her ears.
She sighed a sigh bigger than herself, and undoubtedly bigger than who she missed.
“Jubilee, come on-” said Scott Summers, wearing blue-striped pj trousers and no shirt, closing the fridge door and turning to face her, shaking his head “-Wolverine has been gone for much longer intervals than this previously.”
“But this is taking forever!” She whined, abruptly sitting upright before pushing her cereal a few centimeters away from her with her left hand “I don’t understand why you had to leave him behind!”
“We couldn’t stay long, we had to get out of there before the police arrived.” Scott adjusted his ruby quartz glasses slightly “Heck, I even asked Angel several times to scour the place.” He shrugged, turning around and opening one of the higher cabinet doors, grabbing a glass before closing it “He found nothing.” Scott turned the tap on, a wet hum echoing out, filling the glass with water before turning it off “Wolverine’s probably off at some bar or motel, wallowing, not caring about anybody but himse-”
“Cyclops-” spoke a voice that was tranquil like rain but could roar like thunder, which belonged to the woman whose hair was like clouds; who leaned against the doorframe to Jubilee’s right - a stony expression on her face “-I will have to ask you to stop, immediately. The girl is simply missing her friend, and it is quite inconsiderate of you to dismiss her feelings.”
Jubilee smiled, “Good morning, Storm.”
Ororo Munroe wore a black silk robe, her hair tied back to prevent unnecessary entanglement while sleeping.
Walking over to the kettle, Ororo nodded, “Good morning.” She paused, glancing over at Jubilee’s breakfast “I would finish your meal soon, child, before it becomes soup.”
Jubilation sighed again, assuming her original position.
Scott cleared his throat, regaining his composure “Any news on Gambit’s current location, Storm?” He asked, taking a swig of his water.
“He’s safe, Cyclops.” she said, refilling the kettle “He has merely gone to ‘let off some steam’, as he put it.”
“Do we know where he is?”
“He has gone back to New Orleans.”
“Does he plan on coming back soon?”
“He does not know how long he will stay there.”
Scott mumbled something under his breath. Ororo shot a glare at him, before turning to Jubilee.
“Do not worry, Jubilation, I am certain that both of our teammates will return soon.” She gave her a beautiful smile “In fact, later today I will search the remnants of the Sentinel Factory myself-”
“No need.” Scott said quietly, staring at the door frame behind Ororo.
Jubilee squealed.
Wolverine had come home.