The path from Logan's room to the infirmary is well worn and familiar. I could make this trip in my sleep. In the dark, when the world is sleeping, I walk this path again, bleeding from half a dozen gashes. And there you are waiting for me- Doctor Jean Grey. Maybe you are here every morning, rain or shine, whether I need you or not. But I sometimes wonder if you feel me coming. If you know, somehow, in that pretty telepathic head. Which begs the question of what else you feel. How much you really know. Damn, I hope you just live in the infirmary.

These early mornings, you always bandage me up, comment on my remarkable healing abilities. You say, each time, that I'm lucky to be alive. You tell me to be careful. You mutter that this is dangerous, and wrong. That even the Wolverine should have some control.

I know what you're thinking. You think I should leave him. Well, forget you, lady. He wanted you badly, desperately, long before he knew I existed. The difference between us is, when he finally saw me, I leapt at the chance. Because I could see that a man like that is once in a lifetime. You saved his life once, twice, God knows how many times; I avenged his death once. You rejected him; I watched him from hooded eyes, hoping he'd notice, fearing he'd see me. You're perfect; I'm a nobody. But he saw me. And I'm his, I'm all his. And oh, he knows, he knows he'll always have that. When I'm old, he will still be the same Wolverine. When he's forgotten me, I will still love him.

And he knows.

I will always tell myself that he doesn't mean to hurt me. That he doesn't know the pain he's caused. How he's injured me, not with slivers of adamantium, but with those eyes looking into my soul, and those lips brushing my skin. With the way he makes me want him, when I know I shouldn't.

You see, I know that I can't keep him here forever. His wanderlust will replace his lust for me. Yes, he'll leave again. When he's gone, I'll hide in his room for a few days, trying to say goodbye. I'll tell myself that maybe this time he won't come back. I won't know whether to be afraid or relieved.

But then I'll start to live again. My grades might improve. I might make friends. Hell, I might get a boyfriend.

But if he comes back, I'll be lost. Because once I hear that familiar growl in the shadows, that "hey, kid." then it'll be for nothing. It'll be like he was never gone. He'll say hello, out of respect for what we were and had. If he just says hello, then that means that it's over, and that he's found someone else. Maybe you again, Doctor Grey. But if he still likes me, maybe wants to be friends, then he'll call me kid. Or maybe there'll be some stupid nickname- 'Hothead', or something like that- that'd be very Logan. Or maybe he'll be thinking of a one-night stand, for old times sake; then he'll call me John.

But if he wants me back- If (Why do I do this to myself) he loves me- then he'll call my real name. A voice from the shadows; "Hey, Pyro." And his voice will sound rough, and soft, and almost nervous.
That's all it will take. I'll be his. You see, Doctor Grey, how pathetic I am, how easy. If he just calls my name, I'll be in his arms, praying to any God that might listen to keep Logan here with me forever. That night, We'd be almost normal. But more passionate, more desperate. I'll remember every kiss forever.

And in the early morning, when the world is sleeping, I'll walk this path again, bleeding from a dozen gashes. And you'll be waiting there. And in Logan's room, the Wolverine will be trying to put out the fire on his bed.

A perfect, heartbreaking, fiery, early morning.