Mind & Body

She sat in a plush chair in the corner of the library, watching the others watch her, practically hearing their thoughts. It all made her want to crawl into a ball and hide within herself. She couldn't stand being an outcast among outcasts; that was far too much for any nineteen year old to stand. She shut her eyes and let herself roll away. She stood up and made her decent towards the door, blocking out the glances and whispers.

*           *           *

Logan found himself in the library.  He couldn't figure out why until he smelt her. Marie, he thought. He must have been looking for Marie. He traipsed around the library ignoring the puzzled looks from all the faces present, and attempted to sniff out her scent. He walked to every corner, and every inch was saturated with the smell of Marie. It was like she was standing right there next to him, except when he turned around he was completely alone.

Logan shook his head and made his way to the kitchen; he needed a beer to clear his head. He walked to the refrigerator just as Scott had opened it and they simultaneously reached for the same bottle. Scott glanced at the bare hand coming towards the drink and stopped his, the faint scent of fear seeping from him. Logan took the Molson with a smile as he eyed Scott for the first time. His facial expression had a disapproving quality to it and Logan could tell he was about to say something, which Logan decided to cut off.

"Get your own, Scooter," He said, hopping onto the counter island in the middle of the kitchen and opening the bottle, taking a short drink. Even with Scott's visor, Logan could tell that the man had closed his eyes and seethed on a breath, "God... He's back." Logan smiled again, his presence alone annoyed the shit out of Cyclops and it was a gratifying feeling.

"Yup, back and in the flesh," He turned to his left, just then noticing that the leggy red head had entered the room and stood next to the cabinets. "Hey, Jeannie," The woman looked almost flustered and when she spoke her voice was hesitant. Logan's smile deepened; he loved the effect he had on her.

"Hi, L--" Her face turned to Logan's far right before she could finish the sentence, and he knew she had to be looking at the little dick-weed she loved.

"Don't encourage this," He said, and the contempt in his voice made Logan's heart sing. Scott was obviously still painfully jealous of his and Jean's flirting, and it was all Logan could do to not laugh whenever the little bastard popped a gasket.

His eyes lit up as Jean turned back to him. "Uh, hi," He chanced a look at Scott and snorted, this was the best part of the day: yanking dear ole One-Eye's chain. He smiled down into his bottle as he took another swig of his beer, and happened to glance at the toaster. In it was the reflection of Marie, wide-eyed with her face suffused with shock and confusion.

Shit! He didn't want her to find out that he was back by stumbling on him in the midst of annoying Cyke. He had planned to find her and surprise her with a big hug. She would have enjoyed that. Oh well…

He jumped off the corner and turned to the hall that she had most certainly been standing in, but she wasn't there. Logan walked to it, peering down the smooth wooden paneling and then walked to the counter, staring at the toaster. It too reflected an empty hallway.

Logan ran his fingers through his hair, staring back at the hall. Was he losing his touch? First he couldn't track a very unaware teenage girl, and now he was seeing things.

"What's wrong, L--," Jean began to ask, but stopped when Scott once again stared at her. Jean looked at a loss for words.

"Jean," He warned. What the fuck is his deal?

Scott walked to her side, almost as if to save her from herself and looked back at Logan. His face held something that wasn't quite contempt, but maybe pity, and definite sadness.

That wasn't funny; whatever was going on between those two had nothing to do with a little flirtation. The tension in the room was thick and with Logan's senses it made him edgy. He needed out.

"The kid; I can't find her. Do you know where she is?"

"Have you tried her room?" That gained Jean another cold steely gaze that not even Scott's visor could hide.

"No." Logan said, drinking the last bit of his beer and setting it back down on the counter. He looked at Scott and pointed to the empty bottle. "You know what to do with this. That's a good idea, Jeannie," He winked at her and made his way down the hall. "I'll try there after…" He was gone before either heard what he was going to say.

*           *           *

Logan woke up to the sound of crying. He opened his eyes and found that the room he was in was completely dark, except for a molt of strange orange light that seeped in through the window.

Logan rubbed his eyes with one hand and swept it up his forehead and over his hair. Things had gone from strange to stranger. He didn't even remember going to sleep and he doubted that one beer had been enough to knock him out. And where the hell was he anyway?

The whimpers continued and the familiarity hit him like a brick. He recognized the noise… and the scent. Marie. He had to be in her room. But he didn't remember going there, sure he had planned to, but he couldn't even recall making it to the stairs.

Logan shook his head again and pushed his queries to the back of his mind. Marie was crying; that was more important. "Marie," He whispered. She turned to him, the orange light illuminating her face and making the liquid blobs on her cheeks glow.

She stared at him with shock and then turned to the door. She hadn't heard him come in, and besides, she was sure she'd locked it. She huffed and turned her back to him once again. "Go away."

He didn't think that she'd make a huge deal about his return but he thought that he would get a hell of a lot more than that. "Why are you crying, Marie?"

"Why do you think?" She choked on her words from her sobs, but the scorn in her voice was loud and clear.

"Uh…" Logan took a step forward and scratched his head. He had just gotten back; how the hell was he supposed to know what was wrong with her? Did she know it was him?

"It's Logan. I just came back," He whispered, and immediately realized he couldn't remember where he had gone nor what he had found. Perhaps, he should see the Professor after this. Maybe the whole repression thing had something to do with another traumatic incident. That was why it happened the first time… Right? "I've barely spoken to anyone." She rolled over and looked at him, seemingly unable to wrap her mind around what he was saying.

"No one told you?" She was almost in awe, her nose running, and a barrage of tears hitting her pillow. Logan sidestepped to the dresser and grabbed a tissue from the box before walking to her, wiping her face gently.

She sat up and took it from him, her movements careful for she wore no gloves, attempting to finish the job in vein; every tear she removed was replace twofold. He went to sit next to her on the bed but as he drew closer she crouched away. He decided standing would be best.

He shifted in front of her, his hands dug deep in his pockets and looked down at her. "So what haven't I been told?" He asked quietly, swaying nervously. He was never really good at the whole comfort thing.

She looked at him angrily through her streaming tears and for a second he thought it had something to do with him. "Didn't you notice that someone was missing while you were here?!"

So her absence wasn't a coincidence. She had been avoiding him, he surmised. Suddenly the fact that he smelt her everywhere yet never saw her was making a lot more sense; she'd simply leave before he got there. "Well, I noticed that wherever I'd be you seemed to have conveniently just left. But, I didn't realize--"

"I'm not talking about me, Logan!" He stared down into her grief-stricken face with not even an iota of understanding within him.

"Well, then, Kid… who the hell are we talking about?" Shit! That had apparently been the wrong thing to say because her body began to tremble and she collapsed once again to her pillow, face scrunched up in to a scowl of pain.

"Shit…!" He said under his breath, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Marie?"

"Brownish blonde hair, deep hazel-green eyes, caring…" She spoke to him without turning and Logan's mouth worked wordless. He was so afraid of saying the wrong thing, his heart bleed when she hurt and she was so apparently hurting right now.

"Who—whose that?" A triad of tears skated down the one cheek Logan could see and he watched agonizingly as her throat worked to swallow her cries.

"Bobby…" Her voice was strained, near inaudible. Without his keen hearing he knew he would not have heard her at all. Bobby… the name was familiar to him. The description helped a little and he recalled the one time he had actually spoken to the little miscreant when she had gone missing shortly after their accident.

What has that little shit done to her?! So far from their conversation alone he had picked up that Bobby wasn't there, she noticeably cared for him dearly, especially to describe him so affectionately, and that she was hurting a whole lot because of the bastard. Logan walked closer and squatted down to her eye-level.

"Did he hurt you, baby? Want me to hunt him down and kick his ass?" His words earned him the same reaction as the other time, but somehow she managed to shake her head in the negative. Why was she protecting someone that had apparently caused her this much hurt? And why the hell couldn't he figure out that it would be better for both him and Marie if he just kept his big insensitive mouth shut?!

He carefully placed his hand on her pillow, pressing it away from her face and looked into her eyes. Maybe the best approach was to get her to do most of the talking. "Baby, what happened? Do you want to tell me about it?"

Her lip trembled a little bit but she nodded slowly, trying to sit up, her tissue, damp and crinkled, clamped tightly in her hand. "He was the only one that really reached out to me when I first got here,"

"Bobby?" She nodded again, a little easier this time even though her voice still hiccupped when she spoke.

"We spent a lot of time together… especially after that thing that happened with you. Everyone was still kinda afraid of me…" Yeah, he could only imagine how the kids viewed practically the only person that had ever taken the Wolverine down. With a reputation like that friends could be scarce… That was actually how he preferred it. But for a kid like Marie he could see how that wouldn't be her first choice.

"I'm sorry about that," A few new tears rolled down her face, quicker this time, using the well-traveled paths of the tears before and she shook her head.

"It wasn't your fault…" She was whispering again and he could tell it was from the effort it took to keep her cries inaudible. "…He had a crush on me…" She began again after several minutes of silence.

"I liked the attention," At that she actually managed a smile. The combination of it and her ongoing weeping painted an odd picture that made Logan uneasy. Happiness and heartache… the two emotions should never mix.

"He pursued me when you left. He wasn't afraid either…" A fresh track of tears glided down her face and she left them unchecked as she continued. "We got close quickly, and then we started dating…"

Logan nodded slowly, trying to reassure her that he had been listening. "And then…" Her lip trembled, and she shook steadily as a result of trying not to shake at all. "And then I-I… I-I killed him…"

"What?!" He reached down, wanting to wrap her in his arms, and cursed the fact that he still wasn't wearing any gloves.

"I didn't mean to…!" She said, coughing over a sob. "It was an accident."

"I know, Kid. You wouldn't…" He sighed and stood up straight again. Why the hell had no one told him this?!

"It was just an accident…" She repeated, staring off to the other side of the room, speaking to no one in particular.

"Marie?" Logan called her name softly, trying to shake her from her stoic mantra. Her glassy eyes slowly slid up to his face. They were still somewhat distant and he could tell that she wasn't really looking at him.

"He loved me…" Another tear drifted from her eye and her gaze fell away from his face, seeming to concentrate more on his chest as she smiled. "I loved him, too… and I let him convince me that we could be normal—that we didn't have to be different; that we could act like every other teenage couple in love…"

She met his eyes again and hiccupped, the sheen of moisture under her nose sparkling in the light. "We went to movies, we cuddled in the rec room, we had picnics…" At her last words, her voice cracked and it was audibly evident just how much emotion she was trying to hold back. "… and everything seemed right; perfect… But I let it get too far…"

She looked to his side and he suddenly got a moment of clarity; he figured out that it was her main focus just not to look at him in his eyes. "… we started--" She began fiddling with the remains of her tissue, and twitched about the bed without purpose, before starting again. "We started…"

As her voice trailed off for the second time, it dawned on Logan exactly what she couldn't say; they had gotten physical. "We weren't as careful as we should have been… we were too relaxed when it came to something that was so dangerous."

"Marie… Baby…? Do you want to tell me what happened?" She looked to him slowly, her catatonia blinking from her moist eyes. "It was our anniversary…" She began, gazing passed him again. "We wanted to make it special. We were just four months away from a year…" She smiled, her lifted cheek shaking an unshed tear from her eye.

"We were out most of the day and when we got back to the mansion, I didn't want the night to end…" Her smile had faded away and her shivering lips formed a pout.  "I bribed my roommates so we could have the room to ourselves. And when I told him, he was all shy and eager," Her spirits lifted a little and despite a trickle of paternal rage, Logan was happy for the change in her mood.

"But he tried to talk me out of it. He said we didn't have to 'cause 'I had already made the night perfect' and even though nothing could make him happier then making love to me, he could wait for it… I was worth it…"

A bit of admiration appeared on Logan's face. Young love was a beautiful thing and those words spoken from a man so young had to be the real thing. He had a newfound respect for the boy he could barely remember.

"That just made me want to do it more," She began again. "…I thought he'd be more apprehensive," She recalled, her pout leveling out a bit. "About my skin, I mean. But he just wanted to make sure I was ready." She smiled.

"He actually thought about it a lot." Logan stifled a growl, realizing that that wouldn't help the situation. But the kid was now back on his 'to be gutted' list; those having sexual fantasies about his little Marie should expect no less.

"He said that he wanted to be prepared whenever I did get ready because someone with my mutation required more than a moment of contemplation." Logan had no doubt of exactly what he was contemplating; with Marie creativity is a must.

"We— " She stopped abruptly and lowered her head. He could smell the shame and guilt radiating from her. "He had a sheet… It was softer than the others that we had and I was wrapped in it. But…" The tone in her voice had lowered and Logan had to strain to hear her. He knew that this was the key part of the story. He could even smell that she had started crying again.

"But we went to sleep after, side by side." He could hear her tears in her voice now. But it was almost as if she didn't have to tell him anymore. He could picture in his mind what had happened. Almost as if he were there to witness the tragic event. "I don't know how it happened," She sobbed, distraught.  "The sheet must have slide and we were touching, skin to skin."

She choked and Logan again fought the urge to wrap his arms around her and rock her pain away. "And I didn't even realize what was happening. I thought I was just dreaming of Bobby. I saw him with his family, but I also saw the way he saw me. How much he cared… He thought I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen that day you brought me to the mansion… But then things started getting sadder… I heard him tell me not to worry about him, or feel bad that he was gone… He said that he was happy I was there… with him…And that he loved me. I couldn't understand it."

She looked up to him, pleading with eyes that glistened with tears. She needed him to believe she was innocent; that she hadn't meant to hurt anyone. "I couldn't understand why he would want to leave… I didn't get it until I woke up with my tears frozen to my face… I was killing him, Logan, and the whole time he was worrying about me… I tried to get away but it was already too late… I'll never forget the look on his face, his eyes staring directly at me…even in death he loved me."

 What little control she had was lost as the words escaped her lips. Logan could imagine her laying in bed beside the body of the man she loved; a man that loved her unconditionally even as she stole his life from his body. She again laid on her side, her sorrow unabashed. Logan couldn't stand by while she literally broke down not three feet in front of him.

He tentatively approached her, his hand hovering above deadly skin he knew he couldn't touch. But then he spotted it. One of the only areas he could touch her without gloves and not risk a coma that would undoubtedly fuel her belief that she was never meant to be touched. He got down on his knees beside the bed and began to stroke his thumb gently across her brow.

"I was killing him," She mumbled, distraught. "…and all along he was just happy to be with me… happy that he didn't have to die alone…" The squeak of her cries pounded into his brain, and he could almost feel the adamantium creaking under his skin, dying for release. She was too young to be in this amount of pain. Things like this should never happen to a girl like Marie.

He hushed her, lulling her into slumber with calming words of comfort.

As Marie drifted off to sleep, her hand fell from her brow and Logan disappeared back into the box of her subconscious that contained him when he was no longer needed. Tomorrow, the Professor would be notified of Rogue's latest relapse, and they're sessions would once again commence.