Disclaimer: They ain't mine, just playin' with 'em. Sorry, to those who do own 'em. =/
Chapter 1The moon shone dimly though cloud-covered sky over the small, roomy cabin as snow fell in wispy tendrils from the grey November sky. Inside, a fire was lit and burning, it's embers glowing against the wooden grains of the wall. Warmth wafted through the living room, comforting the inhabitants as they lay on their couch, huddled together under an old patchwork quilt. From underneath the protective barrier flowed wisps of red hair, splaying over the arm of the couch and tumbling halfway down the side as it's owner pulled the old quilt down to the skin of her exposed collar and snuggled against the comfort of a man's strong, broad chest.
Her eyes drifted up to meet his as a smile formed on her finely shaped lips. He gazed down at her lovingly and shared her smile. For uncounted moments, they laid in each other's arms, content both from their physical bonding and from merely being close to one another. Their life had not been an easy one; it had been bought with a high price, born out of supposed tragedy. They were mutants, X-men from Xavier's School for Gifted Children and they had sacrificed themselves to save their friends and colleagues. She was a telepath and he was a walking weapon. When they had gone to the lake to rescue Professor Xavier, the dam that held the waters at bay was fractured and broken. She had stepped out of their jet, the only means of escape, with the intention of holding back the raging waters so those she loved could escape. She hadn't heard him follow her.
Her concentration had nearly been broken by his strangled cry as she lifted the bay of the jet, which caused him to realize her intentions. But her course was determined and she stayed it. She told him it was something she had to do, that he had to go back. He refused. No one told the Wolverine what he could or could not do.
"I won't let your pride kill you, Logan," she had told him, steadfastness and gritty determination behind her stormy eyes. "Get back on the jet. Now."
He had seen then that there was no arguing with her, but what he also realized was that he loved her and was not about to abandon her to such a death. He felt her mind reaching out to him, begging him to return to safety, but he smiled at her grimly and let his answer flow through his mind. "I won't let you die alone, Jeannie. I can't."
Sighing, he shut his eyes and closed his mind from her reach. He could feel and sense her despair over his choice, but her road remained unchanged, and he heard her turn from him.
Logan opened his eyes then and fixed them on her, watching mutely as she walked away from him and towards the waves of the loosened lake that rushed closer and closer to them. He could smell the fear on her. But as the waves threatened to overwhelm them, she stopped them cold, her mind the only barrier between them, their companions, and a watery grave.
Then something happened. He saw her eyes light up like a raging fire burned behind them and the jet lifted and it's engines started. His heard pounded again his chest as he watched her hold off the towering mass of water that would almost certainly end her life soon. The thought of Jean dying so young angered him. He felt his inner-animal beginning to stir. He growled loudly and her mind slammed against his, screaming, wailing and pleading with him to live, even in the hopelessness of the situation.
He screamed her name and ran for her as her control over the waves shattered. The next moments went by like a blur for Logan. Shouting at the top of his lungs, he wrapped his arms around her waist and then positioned his body between her and the water. Then the water hit him like a fifty-foot wide sledgehammer and he fought for all he was worth to hold on to her.
The torrential waves tossed and turned them, but Logan held on, gripping at Jean's body, hoping somehow to spare her life, no matter the pain it caused him. It seemed to go on for an eternity, the rushing of the water, the pain of debris slamming against his body. But when he thought he could no longer stand it, the current stilled. He could feel Jean writhing against him in agony, her breath nearly spent and with one final exertion, he thrust her upward with all his might and then gasped a breath, drowning his lungs with water. The burning agony of it all was the last thing that went through his mind as darkness fell.
The next thing he remembered was waking up next to Jean on the shore of the lake, his head huddled against her chest, her slim fingers running through his hair. His lungs were on fire and his head was pounding so hard he could barely think, and as he had passed out once again, he had heard her voice whispering to him: "I'm so sorry, Logan...why? Why did you do this?...why did you have to come to us and make me fall in love with you?...why didn't you just let me die?" The sound of her crying was the last thing he heard as he fell into a deep, mending sleep.
Their lives started that day out of nothing, in the middle of the Canadian wilderness, penniless and shivering. However, over the course of the next three years, it had turned into something so beautiful that words could not describe it. They had claimed their share of happiness, and for a while, their lives had been blissful and unhindered, free to breathe, hope, dream, and love.
And when they thought greater happiness in life an impossibility, they were given an addition to their family of two, a daughter. When she was born, they named her Charlotte. The name was something that bore great meaning to the little girl's parents; to Logan and Jean, it was sacred, holy - key to memories they both cherished dearly. Charlotte bore her name with pride.
She was a bright, vivacious girl with blonde hair so light that it was like snow against her lily skin. Her jasper-green eyes were piercing in perception, but always there was joy behind them. She was a very happy child. Her parents loved her and they loved each other. By the time she was three, she had shown a rudimentary ability to sense thoughts, but as her powers would likely not begin to develop for quite some time, it could never be determined just how clear they were. She had also exhibited signs of enhanced senses of smell, sight, and hearing. Although it was certain that she had inherited, at least in part, the abilities her parents had, it would be quite some time before they began to manifest in full. Nonetheless, Jean had taken care to watch and observe Charlotte carefully.
Jean often told her that if her grandfather could only see her, he would be so proud. Charlotte was named after her grandfather, one she had never seen, but of whom she had heard so many lovely stories. She dreamed of meeting him. Charlotte loved her mother fiercely, but was utterly in love with her father. Her mother told her often that before she came along, her daddy was wild and untamed, like the graceful, beautiful wolves she so loved to draw. But Logan was wrapped firmly around her tiny fingers, and Charlotte knew it and took great advantage of it when the time was opportune, much to the chagrin of her equally doting, though somewhat more conservative mother. Yet, her love of him was so complete that she would never push him more than he was willing, and she always respected his wishes. Logan and Jean told the people of the town 15 miles from their cabin that she was perfect. The townspeople believed them because it was true. Charlotte was perfect.
Today had been her sixth birthday; she had built snowmen and made snow angels with the giddy glee of a child that does not know the evil that lurks in the world. However, that evil had been growing in Jean's mind for some time. In the days after Alkali Lake, she had felt the Professor's mind reaching out to her in a last desperate attempt to come to terms with his loss. But she had resisted his calls, knowing in her heart that there would be a time some day in the future that she would re-open her connection with her mentor. He was like a father to her, but she could not live life knowing he knew she was alive and that it was her choice not to return. The time had now come.
Jean could never quite explain it, but when her powers had begun to change, she had felt herself changing with them. The internal war with herself over Logan and Scott had faded as she had come to terms with her feelings for Logan. Yes, she loved Scott, but more so now like a brother and a best friend. Her love for Logan was different; it was like sunlight shining over a sunflower, feeding her heart and soul. And when he had sacrificed himself along with her, saving her life in the process, she knew that it was time for her life to change directions.
As time wore by and she married Logan and settled down with him near a small town in Alberta, Canada, her powers began to grow and develop. At times, she felt that if she had not had such a strong, unshakable foundation under her, that her new powers would run away with her, driving her into madness. But Logan was always there with her, always steadfast, always loving and encouraging her. His love and her determination had fought successfully together to wield complete control over her newly blossomed abilities, and Jean flourished.
Now that Charlotte was six, she knew that they had to face the reality of things once again. Charlotte needed training that they could not provide in and of themselves. She needed Professor Xavier's guidance, and she needed the stability of a home and a school where her rapidly developing mutations could be harnessed and nurtured, as Jean's own abilities had been.
As they had celebrated their daughter's birthday, she had gone over all of her possible speeches to Logan, which were intended to convince him that going back was the best thing for them all. But lying in his arms just now, so warm and secure, she could not find the words. Her mind raced a million miles an hour.
"Tell me, Jeannie," Logan's deep voice said, startling her.
She blushed. "I'm sorry, it's just, I've been meaning to tell you something for the longest time now, well, ever since Charlotte turned five. I mean, I've been putting it off, but I know it's the right thing for Lilli - for us." Lilli was Charlotte's middle name, a name Jean used only in private with her daughter and husband. "I think we should go back, Logan. I think it's time."
Jean glanced at Logan; he was looking at her strangely, almost grinning. "What?" she asked, smiling a little herself.
Logan ran a hand through her long, red hair and sighed. "Well, I gotta be honest, Red, I was thinkin' the same thing. Lilli's old enough for school now and I won't have her denied or exploited like I was. Chuck's the only person I trust. I think we should go back, too."
Jean laughed aloud and hugged him fiercely. "Oh, thank you, Logan!" she said against his bare chest. "You can't know how much this means to me."
"Oh, I think I do," he replied, his tone serious. She lifted her head and looked at him as he brushed locks of her hair away from her eyes. "But you know this ain't gonna be easy, don't ya?"
She nodded as a glint of sadness crossed her features. "There will be a lot of explaining to do."
He gazed at her questioningly. "Any regrets?"
Jean smiled whole heartedly and kissed Logan lightly, whispering against his lips, "No, no regrets – not about us. It might take time for some, but I think everyone will understand that we had no choice, not really. We were just...meant to be - like you say, lifemates."
"Soulmates." He smiled at using her particular term for their relationship, but then it faded, and he caressed her cheek gently. "I love you, Jeannie."
"I love you, too, baby," she said in return, love shining in her eyes. Smiling softly, Jean laid her head on her husband's chest and took a deep, steady breath. It felt sometimes as if her heart would burst for love of Logan. She was always amazed at the depth and intensity of her feelings towards him. Even after almost ten years together, eight of which they had been married, she still felt an overwhelming desire for him. She laughed at the concept sometimes, thinking to herself that she was thirty-nine years old, had been married for eight years, and still lusted after her man like a newlywed. It amazed her even more that it was no different for Logan. She could still see his craving for her in his eyes, those sharp, perceptive eyes. It was the kind of look she had seen as they sat by the fire, cuddled under the blanket holding each other. They hadn't made love on the couch in three years. But here they were.
Now they would leave the only home they had known as husband and wife and as parents, and return to the home they had known as Logan and Jean, two people who wanted, but could not have each other. She wondered how Scott was doing, as she had done so often since that day at Alkali Lake, and if he had moved on with his life as she had hers. She hoped against hope that he had, and that he would be able to see that she had made the right decision, both for herself and for him, as she knew in her heart of hearts that she had. Time would tell.
And when the clock chimed in the arrival of midnight, sleep had fallen upon Jean and Logan, and they rested peacefully together until the morning came. The next day, they packed their things and told Charlotte that it was finally time for her to meet her grandfather. And as they stood outside their home, tears spilling down her cheek, Jean blew a kiss to the house and the life they would leave behind, watching as the flames devoured it and everything in it they could not take with them. Yet ahead of them lay an uncertain road, and whether good or bad, they would travel it.
Now looking to the backseat where Charlotte slept, her snowy blonde hair falling on her shoulders, Jean's heart found peace and as the road wore on underneath them, she knew that even though there would be rough patches, things would work out in the end. She had faith.