AN - AU as it's kind of a crossover between Old Man Logan and a weird multi-universe Marie? I don't know.

This idea came to me after the month-long heat wave in England and it rained for the first time in ages. Just lying listening to the rain on the roof made me think; it's like a new beginning.

As always, no own, no sue. All fun and games people.

Reminiscence and the Rain

Have you ever lay in bed listening to a rain storm? How the heavy droplets fall on the roof, the leaves on the trees outside? Thick and fast enough to turn the earth into muddy streams in minutes, a low rumbling in the distance, rolling in closer and closer. And every now and then the sky lights up with a flash.

When it rains like this, I think of him; constant and unyielding like a storm, his scent fresh and earthy like the outdoors. Steady and dependable, like the promise rain gives of new life. Logan.

There was a tremendous storm that night, the heavens opened and poured down in torrents. Their invasion was masked by all the noise, the night they killed them. All of them, just because they weren't like everybody else.

It was a long time ago but every time I lay in bed and listen to the rain, the memories come flooding back. Makes me feel like a kid again.

I sat under the hot spray of the motel shower, letting it cleanse me, body and mind. The water that swirled around me slowly changed from black to clear as weeks worth of filth ran off my body. It was so hot my usual lily white skin was red but I'd been so accustomed to the cold that the intense heat was soothing, letting me know I could feel something other than numbness.

I could have been in there all night. But I had a promise to keep, a deal to uphold. I struggled to fight back tears, half sobs catching in my throat. Wasn't this something I had dreamed about in the past few years? Didn't I want it to be with him? Even though he was a different man now, wasn't he still the same one I had grown to love.

It didn't feel right but it wasn't as bad as freezing on the edge of the highway or if I did find shelter, starving to death. Giving up the only valuable thing I had left wasn't too bad a price to pay when he'd feed you, clothe you and keep you warm.

"Out." The tarp covering the back of the trailer was pulled back; a large figure loomed over me, features indistinguishable in the dark. His voice was low and throaty, instantly recognizable after all these years. He lifted a torch, the dull yellow glow it cast enough to illuminate his features. He was still intimidating after all this time.

I knew this man well; he was like an uncle to me although he looked worn. Older than I remembered for somebody who didn't age. No glimmer of recognition flashed over his face. He didn't seem to know me. I knew why, had heard stories about the feral mutant who was shot in the head with an adamantium bullet, wiping his memories from his mind like chalk from slate.

"Please don't.. I need a ride" I managed to stutter out through my shaking.

Unchanged by my plea, he yanked me out of the trailer, his face set into a heavy scowl that was so familiar, yet foreign to me.

I realized we were in the middle of nowhere, probably the Canadian wilderness if I had to hazard a guess. It was below zero out here, the wind biting on my exposed skin. I was cold, hungry and beyond tired after spending the last few weeks running from the authorities. These were dark days indeed, mutants being hunted and killed, persecuted for just being who there were even though they weren't a viable threat. Even mutants who could control their powers.

The mutant family I'd lived with most recently had been captured, I barely escaped with my life. My only choice left was to run, if they caught me they would either kill me or use my body for experiments. The government had machines for hunting us down now.

I quickly went through my options; I had no money, no valuables, in fact, nothing but the clothes I wore on my back, which were unsuited to such a volatile environment, as worn and filthy as they were. Nothing to offer him in exchange for just a ride to the nearest town let alone shelter or protection. I looked up at him, hoping I could convince him not to leave me to die. Did I imagine the look on his face as he eyes roamed up and down my body? The almost hungry way he was eying me, like a wolf that'd not eaten in a very long time. I was still young, barely eighteen but my time on the road had hardened me, shown me what life was really like when you had no one.

I looked up at the man who'd been a constant in my life, before the raid on the school, until he'd disappeared a few years ago without a trace. Memories of trips to the circus or the ice cream store, seeming endless summer road trips and camping at Lake Michigan. The professor and other teachers reluctant to let me leave, delicately cross-examining me with veiled questions when I got back. The warm fatherly image of him blurred and I saw him standing there, wild looking and fierce in the storm.

"Please, If you leave me, I'm dead." I sniffed, steeling myself against the wind and my decision. "I'll.. I'll do anything" He stood for a moment, the snow coming down heavily against him, considering the proposition. Contemplating what exactly I had offered him, what he thought I would sacrifice and if he had enough remaining conscience to prevent him from going through with it.

"I keep you warm, put food in your belly, give you shelter. You'll keep my bed warm for the trouble. Deal?" He slowly drew out his gloved hand, holding it directly at my eye level. That answered my unspoken question. Uncle Logan is dead.

Logan sat in the darkened motel room, listening impatiently to the way the water from the shower mingled and merged with the sound of hail tapping on the roof. The noise of it wasn't enough to calm him in the frame of mind he was in tonight. One flimsy piece of laminate was all that separated him from the prize he had picked up a few hours ago out on the highway. One kick and the only obstacle in his way would be eliminated. Just thinking about all that exposed creamy flesh; glistening, wet and sliding against his own was enough to drive him wild.

His jeans were beginning to irritate him as the crotch area which wasn't particularly spacious to begin with, tightened in readiness. He unbuttoned his pants, cursing at the slight release in pressure. It had been a very long time since he'd been with a woman and her offer was especially tempting to him. Underneath the weeks of filth, he could smell a young, fertile female. He thought at the time that she shouldn't make promised she couldn't keep but didn't smell a lie on her. She understood exactly what she was getting into.

Of course, it helped she was pretty; Logan imagined how soft her skin would be underneath the tattered pajamas she wore, the curve of her breasts unsupported beneath the flannel. He liked she was small too, wouldn't cause him too much trouble if things got out of hand.

He struggled for the few hours since they'd met with the idea of taking advantage of her. Although he couldn't remember exactly who he was, he had a strong sense of honor and duty ingrained into him. After much deliberation, he'd decided he was a decent man. Since he'd lost all his memories he'd clutched at any clue that could point him in the direction of his past, in particular, that strange metal that covered his bones the dog tags he'd awoken that bore one word. Wolverine.

He was tired of being honorable, tired of being alone. She'd willingly offered herself to him, what if he could upkeep his end of the barging or the foreseeable future? What if he'd continued to keep her safe?

The sudden absence of the shower patter pulled him out of his stupor. Images of how he envisioned her before ran through his head making him almost shake with anticipation. She had about a minute to get out here before he would start getting impatient enough to do something about it.

...

My earliest memory was of Logan. We'd lived at the mansion school together. He'd take off sometimes, leaving for a few months at a time. Eventually, those months became more frequent and he'd only come back for a visit. To visit me.

Before that, I remember him taking me away from a burning building. I remember the heat, nothing else. And the color orange.

He was a big man, broad and heavy, towering over all us kids. Most of them were afraid of him but not me; he was my friend, my protector. My uncle Logan. He was all hair and leather, soap and cigar smoke.

Sometime around my fourteenth birthday was the last time I saw him. He gave me one of the dog tags I'd often admired from around his neck. Promised he'd come back for it soon. He left me standing there in the autumn leaves with a kiss on the head and a broken promise. Because he never did come back. No whisper of heavy boot treads in the halls. No random phone calls in the middle of a Thursday afternoon. Not even a postcard.

After he left, the attacks on mutants started. So many of our kind were killed or forced into hiding. It took almost four years to come to terms with the fact he was dead. He must have been or he would have come back for me. All those happy memories of decorating Christmas trees and eating my weight in birthday cake had to mean something. Four years to mature from a kid to an adult without the guidance he'd promised me.

When I saw him again I realized that not only did that bullet take away my Logan, it took away his ability to heal. He's tired of running, tired of hiding from the shadows that are around every corner.

He's older now. But so am I.

He found her crying in the corner of the bathroom although her state of undress captured his attention first. Her lithe body was wrapped in a towel too small to cover much. Long, slim legs poked out enough he could almost see up to the dark space where they began. Her chest barely restrained by the cheap material as she tried to take deep breaths. She was overwhelmingly beautiful.

His body filled with desire, like black smoke curling from the fire that started somewhere north of his groin. And her scent mixed with the steam from the shower was driving him to the point of almost insanity.

Annoyance darkened his features when she shrunk away from him; he smelt no fear only great loss which confused him.

Logan reached out and grasped her chin, pulling her face up so he could look into her eyes. They were deep, a rich chestnut brown. So dark there were no discrepancies between the iris and pupils, hypnotically pulling him in. It was like he was swimming in liquid chocolate.

"Hope you're not trying to think of a way to wiggle out of this? Huh kid?" he spoke quietly, unknowingly using her pet name from so long ago. It made her cry harder but she shook her head.

"Good girl," he murmured, reaching a hand out to caress her face, wiping her tears away with a calloused thumb.

He pulled her up to her knees, letting the towel fall to the floor. She closed her eyes as his hungry ones devoured her, taking depth breaths to calm herself.

"Darlin' you are so beautiful." His hands ran over every inch of exposed skin, tenderly stroking her shoulders, trailing his fingertips over her ribs, her lips still swollen from the earlier kiss. His long fingers tangled in her wet hair as he pulled her to the crotch of his open jeans.

Logan silently urged her forward, groaning loudly as the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, making her gag. It was so hot and wet, her velvety tongue rubbing at the shaft, her inexperience showing when her back teeth scraped against oversensitive nerves.

He watched her slowly move up and down his aching member without much rhythm but the sensation of her mouth alone was enough for him not to care.

She couldn't fit any more than half in. He could change that. She choked and spluttered as he pushed himself deeper down her throat, moaning in ecstasy as he felt her throat clench around his length. His tight grasp on the back of her head prevented her from moving away and that thought undone him.

Thick, hot strands of semen poured into her mouth, his heart thumping in time with his pulsating appendage. He was about to pull free when he looked down and saw her jaw clenched and he bared his teeth in unspoken threat. No one wasted the Wolverine's seed. Not even her.

"Swallow it" he growled, fingers tangling and pulling at her hair as she struggled to break away. Giving her a shake to reinforce what he wanted her to do. Needed her to do. Reluctantly, she swallowed around him and his cock fell from her mouth with a plop.

The stars he saw were still partiality blinding him and he fell to the floor where he stood, falling against the cool porcelain of the toilet. She was still kneeling before him, eyes downcast, looking so perfect.

He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her all over, tell her he was sorry and plead for her forgiveness. Like he needed some kind of justification. Never before had he been so conflicted about sleeping with somebody. He would normally pick up any girl, not caring if she was underage or not and hastily find the nearest bed/ sofa/ wall to fuck them on.

But she had offered herself to him. She willingly gave herself up. They had even shook on it. It had been such a long time since he had been with a woman for longer than five minutes he was forgetting what was customary, what he normally did after this.

All the women he'd been with morphed into a faceless blur. They meant nothing to him, nothing compared to this beautiful, young, pliable thing on her knees in front of him.

The sun was just beginning to rise as we pulled into a motel parking lot, empty apart from two cars. A long, rectangular building in the middle of nowhere, seeming made of all wood. I'd just awoken dizzy and disorientated from dreamless sleep five minutes previously.

Logan pulled the truck up in the opposite end of the parking lot to the other cars. I step out, breathe the crisp air in. Mountain air is very distinguishable from other types. Very clean. I know the difference from our old camping trips. There is no longer any snow but the ground is wet, the bottoms of my pants trail over my bare feet into in the cold puddles.

My nose uncovers the familiar waft of tobacco carried on the breeze. It's like a time portal, jolting me back ten years and I'm with uncle Logan again, sitting in the park eating cotton candy while he smokes and asks me about my grades, if I'm enjoying school. About my friends and the teachers and Mrs. Grey.

Turning around the image of the past fades. He stands evaluating me with a weary gaze, his body slumped slightly like a lion after the chase, before holding out a hand to me. I stumble over, my emotions almost getting the better of me. It's funny how things turn out. Kinda.

He looks tired, beaten. More of a mortal man than I have ever seen before. Logan tossed the half-smoked cigar aside, placing his hands on my hips. He lifted me onto the hood of the truck so we were eye level, brushing a calloused thumb over my bottom lip. Even with this small touch, I can feel the heat that radiated from him. Like the sun.

Through the tears, I look up into his face. I can see the need reflected in the flat hazel plains of his eyes. He leaned into me, his lips first gently caressing my cheek then my mouth, softly pressing himself into me. So hopeless I can almost taste exhaustion. This is what giving up feels like.

I slowly started to kiss him back and he responded by biting my lip. I pulled back slightly, unsure again and a deep rumble sounded from within his chest. One hand tightly cupping my ass, the other laced through my tangled hair, pulling down so my mouth is angled right. I tried so hard to keep my mutation off; I didn't want to know what he's thinking. His unfamiliar thoughts might break me.

He let go as I was running out of air, both of us breathing heavily although for entirely different reasons. I felt him trembling against me. Tasted blood from where his teeth pierced.

"You've got ten minutes." He gestured towards to closest door. Ten minutes to clean up? Ten minutes to prepare myself? I guess it didn't matter.

Logan stole a look at the tiny huddle of girl he'd just picked up in the trucks passenger seat. Wrapped in his old jacket, she looked like a misshapen sack of potatoes. There was no way she was even close to how old she said she was but that look in her eye when she shook his hand told him she knew what she was getting herself into. But he was still struggling with his conscience; did he have the heart to take away her innocence?

There was something familiar about her too. He had a strange feeling he'd know her like their paths had crossed before but that was ridiculous. She would have been what, ten years old? She's still a kid, growled a voice in his head.

But there was something special about her, some unknown thing that drew him to her. Maybe it was just his feral side talking but he felt as soon as he claimed her, he wouldn't be able to let her go.

He let his eye wander over what exposed skin was peaking out from under the worn leather. Smooth, supple skin, the color of milk and what he imagined to be the texture of butter. Her hair, although dirty was lush and thick. The almost womanly curves and hollows that her body would have created if she wasn't so underfed. He could sort that out alright. He could look after this girl, teach her to be loved and adored. Show her how to love back. Possibly claim her as his own.

His own excitement grew as the forming plan solidified in his mind. This was about to be the best deal he had ever made.

He carried me to the bed, pinned me to the mattress with his weight. He looked tired, beaten. I tried to look away so he wouldn't see how upset I really was; in giving into my wildest fantasy I was also losing part of myself I didn't think I was ready to part with. Not my virginity but my last whisper of childhood memories I had left. I shuddered involuntarily when he ran a hand up the inside of my leg, his labored breathing hot on my neck. Muttering barely audible pillow talk into my skin. Stroking my belly. Reassuring me.

"Remember what you promised me?" I could only nod. He kissed me tenderly before placing a finger in my mouth. He used the slickness to gently rub against my pussy, agonizingly slow circles. It felt like nothing I'd ever experienced before, my whole body tingled with electric.

Then he pushed his middle finger inside me and I hissed at the stinging. It was a tight fit. He hooked his finger around at a different angle and I melted into pure ecstasy. That spot right there, was heaven. I felt something hot build up in the lowest pit of my stomach as he continued stroking me and just as I thought I was going to lose it, he stopped.

I let out a cry of loss until he shifted position slightly and something rubbed against the inside of my thigh and I remembered it in my mouth, thick and throbbing. Surely that wouldn't fit there?

An uneasy crackle in my belly made me tense up but the low smoldering look in his eyes kept me from being scared. Trust. He wasn't going to hurt me.

"Look at me" he breathed and the second I did, he pushed slowly into me inch by inch. Driving in deeper until I was shaking from the blunt force, whimpering at the full feeling of being impaled for the first time with something so big.

"It won't hurt for long baby." Kissed my jaw distractedly.

I thought he would fuck me hard and fast but he was surprisingly and uncharacteristically gentle. He pulled my legs up around him, leaning into the hollow of my neck, breathing me in deeply. And we just lay there like that.

"You'ok?" I hear him over my own loud mind, his voice lost in a lusty haze. I just nod again, trying to adjust to the new sensation. Now I'd had a moment, it didn't hurt so much.

He started slowly, rolling his hips against mine. Should I be doing anything? He stared down into my eyes like he was desperately looking for something deep within them, held my body tightly like he needed something real to hold onto.

And then he tensed, closed his eyes. Came all over my belly and thigh with a groan. He lay still on top of me, his weight heavy but comforting. Strangely familiar even though it was the first time we'd shared a bed.

I'm happy at least he had enough decency to pull out. I'm seventeen years old for god's sake. I know what happens when you have unprotected sex.

Logan thought she done well for her first time but he was far from done with her.

Her belly was sticky with dried semen and although he'd marked her with it, she would probably want to wash again soon. He lifted her sleepy, languid body into his arms, carried her to the tub. Kissed her awake softly on raw, chapped lips. He turned on the shower and set her lightly down on her feet. Her body still heavy with sleep she stretched, wincing slightly at the unfamiliar ache between her legs.

Two words echo endlessly in his mind, a litany of repetitive words. Beautiful. Mine. She sighed in contentment as he began to wash her, soapy hands running over her limbs and torso. Her sighing turning more into a moan when his hand falls little lower. Logan smiles at her reaction, still sensitive. He pushed a finger into her making her shudder with pleasure. Inserted another eliciting a low moan from her, he grins again knowing her pleasure would intensify ten fold when he could fill her again with the thickness of his cock.

Suddenly he needed to be inside her again, desperately. He lifted her against the wall, her legs wrapping around, pressing herself into his core. Both of them gasping again as he pushed every aching inch slowly into her. Sinking deep into her body before pulling almost all the way out. And again. And again. Slow, gentle thrusts. Building towards release.

"Open your eyes." He commanded, craving to see that unique fire burning in her eyes. The burn of lust, anguish and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. Her dark eyes opened to stare into his and he started to pound into her, each thrust of his hips made their bodies slam against the titles with a wet slapping sound that echoed around the tiny room. The intensity was enough to force her to a swift climax and he wasn't far behind, shooting his seed deep inside her.

He didn't realize until they had come down from their post orgasmic high that he'd sunk his teeth deep into the soft flesh of her shoulder; marking her with her own blood. He licked the wound clean as the shower ran cold, nuzzled into her neck.

The Wolverine had found its mate.

His strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her effortlessly from the tub, crushing her to his chest in possessive necessity. Deposited her still wet from the shower into the bed, dampening the sheets. One arm snaked around her waist, the other curled protectively over her chest. He felt almost content in that moment. Almost knew what happiness felt like.

He let out a contented purr and let the first waves of sleep wash over him. He altered his breathing unconsciously to match hers, feeling the thrum of adrenaline slowly dwindle from her veins as she lay beside him.

They had almost fallen asleep like that when his hushed words tickled her ear like a moth had flittered by.

"What's your name sweetheart?" he breathed.

"Marie."

It's raining again. This time he's not gone. He won't leave me alone longer than it takes to use the bathroom. Which strangely, I like. He keeps his end of the bargain and I keep mine.

He told me he can't remember much about his past. It upsets me; I'm torn between telling him everything and leaving him in this blissful limbo. Surely if he knew about our past relationship he would be disgusted with himself, with me? Maybe I will tell him one day.

We lay a tangle of limbs just listening to the pattern of raindrops on the titled roof. They are big, heavy. Just like Logan, I guess. The rain refreshes everything, brings a new lease of life. Washes away what remained. But this time I'm not letting him out of my sight.

Hope you enjoyed, please review. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten the last part of the His series, I just need to summon my strength the deal with that particular Logan.