Usually, being in pain wouldn't have been a problem for you. Pain was a part of the job description. It was written in invisible ink in the fine print and the terms and conditions. After all, having to help train young mutants to gain control of their mutation came with a little bit of expected pain. The pain was never too much to handle. But somehow, this time, it was. You had met your match this week.

It had started off with slight discomfort... it was expected, it was normal, it was bearable.

When you had woken up, Logan was already absent from his side of the bed. The blanket on his side was left in the same old style as it always had been every morning when he was up before you—the top half by his pillow was folded over, messily, from where he had pushed it off his body to get up and the bottom half was slightly bunched from where he feet kicked it away. Lazily, you rolled over and your hand stretched out to his side, your fingers spread apart before they closed, bunching the sheets up slightly before you released your grip and sighed. It wasn't uncommon for him to not be there when you woke up, but from where your head was turned, to face his empty side, you could see that the usual bottle of whiskey that he kept on his side table was just ever-so-slightly emptier than it was the night before. It was going to be a long day apparently... for the both of you it seemed because when you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed and pushed yourself up to stand, it had begun.

A groan left your lips as you bent forward slightly, your hands going to your lower stomach to rub gently, trying to get rid of some of the sudden pain that you didn't feel when you had been lying down. Maybe you would have to follow in Logan's footsteps and take a swig of the whiskey to make it through the day. But, instead, you blew out a deep breath and stood up straighter, making your way to your bathroom. Stretching your back and neck as you walked and turned the shower on, hoping that having a shower would help ease some of the pain away, and maybe make you feel a little less gross than what you had felt when you woke up. It didn't take long for the shower to warm up, and when you stepped inside, you closed your eyes and leaned your head against the cool tiles of the wall, feeling the water wash over your tired and already aching body.

A few hours later, it got a bit worse, the slight discomfort was no longer slight, and it made you irritable.

It wasn't a training day, which you had been thankful for, but that didn't mean that you didn't head down to train yourself. What had annoyed you the most, and seemed to progress to anger, was that you were restless and clumsy with your actions. It was difficult to concentrate on the small task of training with the small knives, which was usually something you were very good at. The pain in your muscles didn't help, so you had to stop and put the knives down to try and get rid of the pain a different way. The pain was sharp and you couldn't seem to find a way to stand or sit that would ease the pain, even for a little bit. The painkillers didn't seem to be taking any effect to help, it only made matters worse by making you feel sick.

After that, you couldn't imagine anything being more painful, but you might have jinxed yourself with that thought.

Throughout the day you had constant mood swings, which wasn't a normal thing for you. Usually you were able to keep yourself level-headed, but, apparently, life had been too good to you and decided to throw you a curveball. You constantly felt tired, no matter how many times you tried to find a way to stay more awake. Your head and back constantly hurt, in addition to the sharp stabbing feeling in your abdomen. The shower you had that morning didn't seem to do you any good either, it was almost pointless because you felt even more disgusting than you did earlier, you barely got any training in so that didn't count, and you somehow managed to not see Logan the entire day. It was only much later in the evening when you did see him.

The kitchen was quiet, and you sat alone at the kitchen island, picking away at the plate of food you had made yourself—in the hopes that you would have had your appetite come back, even just slightly, but, of course, that was asking for too much. Logan had walked in, heading straight towards the fridge when he furrowed his eyebrows and slowed down his walk when he saw you. "You okay?" He asked as he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer.

"No," you mumbled.

"What's wrong?" Logan sounded concerned as he pulled the cap off the beer and took a swig of it, slowly making his way over to you, leaning his side against the countertop while he faced you.

"My body is ripping itself apart because you didn't get me pregnant!"

Logan raised an eyebrow, not really caring that much that your voice rose or that you sounded slightly crazy to him. "I'm... sorry?"

"You should be. I wish I could just transfer my pain over to you so you know how it feels."

He watched as you pushed some of the food around and sighed. "So... I'm confused."

"About?"

"Did you want to have a baby?"

"Not now!"

He raised his hands up in defence. "Okay, not now. Got it."

"M-Maybe sometime in the future," you told him quietly, looking up at him.

"Alright." He chuckled to himself and offered you a smile. You wanted to yell out in frustration when your eyes began to water. "Was it something I said?" You shook your head and stood up, sighing. He stepped back slightly as you did, allowing you to have some room when you stood, but he stepped closer again when he saw you sway. Logan placed his beer down on the countertop and quickly grabbed hold of you when he watched your eyes roll back and your body fall limp.

Usually, being in pain wouldn't have been a problem for you. Usually.

When you woke up you stared up at your ceiling. A groan left your lips as you tried to move, but everything hurt too much. You turned your head to your left and saw a glass of water and some aspirin next to it on your bedside table. Weakly, you sat up and picked the aspirin up to take, washing it down with the water. The bedroom door opened and Logan walked in, holding a hot water bottle and ice cream with a spoon stabbed at the top of it. He kicked the door shut gently and made his way over to you.

"Glad to see you're awake."

"What happened?"

"You fainted," he told you placing the tub of ice cream down on the table before he moved the blankets to put the hot water bottle on your lower stomach. "Hank told me to get this crap for you, he usually knows what he's on about, so..."

"Thank you," you replied quietly, smiling up at him gently.

"Yeah, well," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss you. "Just rest and recover, I guess."

You rolled your eyes at his behaviour and patted his side of the bed. He laughed quietly, shaking his head and walked around the bed, sliding in next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "Thank you, Logan," you whispered quietly, yawning.

"You're welcome. Just try not to do so much next time. I saw you go down to the training room earlier. Just relax, you do too much all the time."

"It's my job."

"Yeah, I know. But it's my job to look after you, so, let me do that," he mumbled, reaching over to grab the spoon from the tub. "Just... sit back and relax."

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the tub of ice cream, placing it in his lap, knowing it was what he wanted. Logan was right, you were going to take it easy and make sure he stayed true to his words of looking after you. You were going to take a week off from work, it would be better for everyone if you did, you didn't think bursting out into tears or anger during training would be very beneficial to the students. Instead, you were going to lay in bed, watch crappy TV, eat ice cream and take long naps. That was all you needed.

Rest and recovery... and Logan.