No copyright infringement intended, I don't own any part of the X-Men universe.

They were eating. A very rare steak for him, scrambled eggs for her. He seemed content to eat in silence, but as she was changing into her jeans and sweater she had steeled herself to ask him about what this mating meant for them. As hesitant as she was to rock the boat, she needed answers. She was absolutely terrified by what she was feeling.

"Victor," she started. He looked up from his contemplation of the meat and jerked his head once as if to say, "go on."

"Can you tell me more about mating? What causes it and why it happened and why I can feel it too? If you don't know much about it, do you know anyone else who might?"

He frowned. "I might know someone."

"Could I meet them?"

His frown deepened. "Not so fast, frail. You got a lot of questions, I want some answers first."

"What would you like to know?"

"Why you're so squeamish about fucking, for one."

"Oh. That's-"

"And why you're so fuckin' dead set on staying at your job. You don't need it anymore. I got more than enough money."

His abrupt questions shocked her and she began jostling her leg nervously. She went over them in her head, trying to word it correctly and chose to answer the easier question first.

"I like my job. I worked hard to get into medicine and I worked even harder to get my placement at this hospital. I enjoy working with people; helping them and putting them back together."

"Hm," he grunted. He was usually the one to tear people apart, and here she was trying to fix them.

"And about sex it's just that…I…" She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing the anxious knot in her stomach to calm down so she didn't embarrass herself further. "I'm sorry. I can't."

And with that, she rushed out of the room.

She found him later, sitting in the room she had woken up in not two days before. She walked in and sat on the couch and waited for him to acknowledge her. When he didn't, she said his name softly, not wanting to upset him. He grunted, still not looking up from his paper. She continued cautiously, trying to make him understand.

"For years, I have been alone and that is how I wanted it. It's going to take me a while to adjust to this."

He looked at her then and she saw he was angry. Fuck. She had fucked this up.

"You think this isn't new for me too? You think I don't find it real fuckin' weird that I just let you sit on my fuckin' couch and talk back to me?"

She blinked at him in surprise, stunned by the venom in his words.

"I'm tryin' to figure this out too, frail. I spent the last 100 years alone and you've got this fucked up if you think this is all rainbows and fuckin' sunshine for me."

"I'm sorry", she whispered. His eyes narrowed and he decided to take advantage of this conversation to get some more answers.

"Where's your family, frail?"

He watched her pale further, her fingers started to fidget like he noticed they did when she was nervous.

"Dead." She was still whispering.

His eyes narrowed. There was more to that story, he knew it, but left it. She would tell him later. He continued his questioning.

"No boyfriend? No friends?"

"No, I generally avoid emotional attachments."

His eyes narrowed further. It was different for him, he was more animal than human, but it was his impression that frails always gravitated to those sorts of relationships.

"Why?"

She sighed. "I've never been good with them."

He decided then to leave his questioning at that. She was looking and smelling exhausted. He would do more investigation later while she slept; see what he could dig up about this frail.

He was fucking fuming; close to tearing down this whole fucking house in his rage. Some worthless piece of shit had almost killed his mate. Hospital reports listed it as domestic abuse, possibly attempted murder. But she never pressed charges. She just fucking moved and just went on with her fucking life and became a doctor herself. Fuck. This was a fucking mess.

A sudden wave of anger and possessiveness crashed over him. His teeth clenched and his lip curled. No one fucking messed with his frail. Never mind the fact that he had inflicted similar trauma on countless other women. He was going to hunt this motherfucker down and make him suffer.

He stalked out of his office, intent on confronting her. And a small part he didn't want to acknowledge also knew he needed the comfort being with her would give him, and the reassurance that his mate was okay. He would never let anyone hurt her like that again. A growl he hadn't noticed had been building in his chest. He stalked off to find her, following his scent to his – their – bedroom.

She was in his bed, deeply asleep in a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt. He was momentarily distracted by the pleasing sight of his mate sleeping in his bed, as she fucking should be. That's where she belonged. But it didn't slow his anger at all.

As soon as he sat on the bed she was instantly awake, her breath catching, her eyes alarmed as she sat up. When she heard the growl she became even more frightened, her heart rating elevating further. He consciously stopped it, not wanting to upset her. The thought surprised him, and momentarily made him reconsider what he was about to say. Suddenly he didn't want her to know about that side of him, didn't want her to be upset that he had, what, violated her privacy?

But he had to fucking know. Had to hear it from her.

"When were you going to tell me your exboyfriend almost fuckin' killed you?"

Her eyes became wider, her breathing audibly hitched.

"How do you kn-"

"It doesn't fuckin' matter," he snarled.

He smelled her shock and fear become anger before he saw it on her face.

"You're right, it doesn't fucking matter. It doesn't fucking matter about my fucking exboyfriend and it's none of your business."

Before she could blink she was suddenly slammed into the headboard with his hand on the back of her head, gripping her hair painfully. She vaguely recognized it was also protecting her from actually having her head slammed directly into the wood, but most of her attention was diverted to the sudden violent manhandling. Her head was reeling, and she was suddenly petrified as she was painfully forced into a flashback with an intensity she hadn't experienced in years, her memory replaying for her the last time someone had shoved her into a wall and the awful things that had happened afterward. And then as quickly as it had come, it all shut down. She went limp, her eyes unfocused and her breathing evened out.

It was even more startling to him than her sudden panic had been when he first realized what he had done. He'd fucking hurt his mate. Fuck.

"Frail?"

There was no response. She didn't seem to be asleep; her eyes were still open and her breathing wasn't deep or slow enough. But the scent of her fear was gone, and she was completely unresponsive. He tried again. "Frail?"

Her unfocused eyes came to meet his and a chill went down his spine. They were the eyes of a corpse. Completely dead, void of any emotion or life. He had seen it countless times in soldiers who had seen one too many battles. Haunted, more in the next world than this one. It felt fucking wrong to see it on his frail.

He softened his voice. "Come back to me, frail. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you."

He shifted her so she was sitting sideways across his lap and began purring tentatively, unsure about whether it would help, but allowing his instincts to guide him to comfort her. He had no fucking idea how that shit worked.

It took a few minutes before she started to stir in his arms. He saw her blinking owlishly as if she were just waking up and allowed his purr to grow stronger.

"Frail." He waited until she looked up at him to continue. "I'm…"

Fuck, how did this work? "I'm sorry, frail. That shit is a force of habit. I wouldn't…"

Fuck. "I wouldn't fucking hurt you. I promise you, frail."

"I'm sorry too."

She was back to whispering. Her mind was reeling again at the fact that he was able to bring her back to the present so easily, that his touch itself, rather than making her want to run, made her want to curl closer into him. She succumbed to it, and allowed herself to revel in the comfort for a few minutes. She supposed he deserved some answers, some explanation in the very least.

"He was my boyfriend. I started dating him when I was 17. He was… charming. I thought he was my saviour. That's why I dated him, I thought he would save me. But he was just as awful as all the rest"

His grip around her tightened. For some reason she couldn't describe, she wanted to continue, trying to decide how much she should tell him.

"As soon as I moved in with him I knew something was wrong. He had always been jealous and he was controlling sometimes. But I guess by then I thought that was normal. The first time he hit me I felt so… relieved. It was like I was so relieved that I was right. I was right that everyone was always going to hurt me and that's just how love is."

He was uncomfortable by the emotionless way in which she was talking but didn't want to stop her. It seemed like this was the first time she was actually talking about this shit and he wasn't going to stop her from letting it out. But he couldn't let his anger overtake him. That's what he told himself.

"I had moved in with him only a few months prior. But I couldn't take it anymore. It seemed like every single day he found something I had done wrong and punished me and I knew I deserved it. I always fucked everything up. But that night it was as if something inside of me broke and I was just so tired of it… so I tried leaving him."

She sighed again. "And he was angry. Very angry."

Her voice had trailed off as she stared at her own hands. She was so distracted she didn't even notice the emotions flashing freely across his face until she heard the growl building again. Mistaking the anger as disgust with her, she started to get up to leave, although everything inside her was screaming at her to stay with him and calm him down, to try and convince him not to leave her.

She knew he was dangerous, although she also knew - and she couldn't say how, but she'd bet her life on it - that he wouldn't actually hurt her the way everyone else had. However it hurt that he had affirmed all of her beliefs about herself, though... that she was truly broken and damaged. Unlovable. Before she could even get out of his lap, he caught her arm and pulled her back to him.

"I'll kill him," he promised.

As it dawned on her that it wasn't her he was angry with, she cuddled closer into him, placing her head back under his chin and inhaling a deep breath of his scent. Relief flooded through her.

"Victor…"

"Don't use that tone with me. No one touches what's mine."

She chose to ignore the statement of ownership, although part of her had leapt for joy at the claim. The other - admittedly smaller - part was still very weary at the idea of belonging to someone, let alone someone she had only known a few days. It was also reeling over what she had just told him. What she hadn't told anyone. Ever.

"You can't just kill someone for something they did five years ago."

"He in jail?"

"No… I didn't press charges"

"Good. Didn't want to have to break him out just to kill him."

She sighed. Was she seriously having this conversation?

"You're not getting my point. You can't just kill people, Victor. First of all, it's against the law. But it's also immoral and wrong."

He snorted, still frowning. Immoral. Wrong. Illegal. The little frail would learn in time.

"Like what he did to you wasn't wrong and immoral and illegal?"

"Of course it was all those things. What he did was awful." Her voice trailed off, but her grip on his chest tightened and released. "I wish it had never happened but… please, Victor. Don't give me the option of having him killed. I'm not strong enough to make the right choice."

His frown deepened.

"I know you already killed that man in the alleyway." Had that really been just two days ago? "But just because he deserved it and you got away with it doesn't mean it's okay. He probably has a family grieving for him."

"Frail, that guy was a hired thug. He didn't have any family, beat his girlfriend, and didn't do anything good for the world. No one will miss him." The others were all the same, he added silently, but if she didn't suspect that he'd killed them too, he wasn't about to tell her.

"That doesn't make it okay," she cried. "And how do you know all of this stuff anyways?"

He frowned. Well shit. "None of your concern, frail."

She frowned as well, but didn't say anything else. They both settled down, lost in their own thoughts until he spoke again.

"That will never happen to you again, frail. You're mine. I protect what's mine."

She leaned back so she could look into his eyes and was struck by the overwhelming urge to kiss him. She tried to resist but his pupils were dilating as if he were as affected by her presence as she was by his… and slowly, cautiously, she leaned forward and parted her lips. They were getting closer… she was hovering over his… teasing, tantalizing… with a growl he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers.

She was surprised by the softness of them, despite the force with which he was now sucking on her lip. She felt a fang nip it and she jerked her head back, gasping. They stared at each other, both panting, and she leaned forward once again, this time moving her lips against his until she felt a fang, gentler this time, graze her lip and she opened her mouth in invitation. He took advantage, smoothly sliding his tongue into her mouth, swirling around with hers, tasting her, feeling her, grazing her teeth.

They broke apart once more with a moan and she took advantage of his momentary distraction and her momentary instinctual lapse in judgement and brought her mouth down to his neck, marking him once again. He growled and tightened his grip on her hips, allowing his claws to dig into her flesh.

She released his skin and settled once more against his chest and after a while, began to doze.

He watched her for a few minutes, and then carried her to the bed. He stripped the clothes off of her, leaving her only in her underwear, and tucked her under the covers. As soon as her pants were off, he knew something was wrong. Her legs were covered in scars, some were thick, some thin, all of them crisscrossed over her body like some sick sort of modern art. With trepidation, he realized she had done this to herself. He took off her shirt and saw scars covering her stomach and arms as well. So that was why she wore long sleeved shirts under her scrubs. Fuck.

Lina woke up with something hard and warm wrapped around her. As she slowly regained consciousness, she became aware of the arms around her, pulling her tight against a warm body behind her that was snoring softly. She was tucked so close against it that she felt the beating of their heart and the rise and fall of their breath and… oh my god. All of a sudden she realized that she was naked… and so was he.

By the scent, she knew it was Victor. The purring beast inside of her knew her mate's scent. The thought startled her, but she was too content to think on it too much.

She lay there, enjoying the closeness, and allowed her mind to drift to their conversation earlier. She had trusted him… confided in him. And it had felt so good.

Victor… his mere name induced calm in her body until she realized with a start he had seen her body. He had seen her scars, her shame. What must he think of her? Already damaged by another's hand, but now he had seen her own assault on herself as well, her secret relief. But then, if he had seen them, wouldn't he be disgusted with her weakness? Why was he wrapped around her in his bed, if that was so?

The tightening of his arms around her and growing hardness of his erection alerted Lina to Victor's wakefulness. All at once she wanted to run as far as she could and purr and nuzzle, but settled for placing her own hands over his. One was around her breast, the other on her stomach. His chest rumbled and his grip tightened.

"Good afternoon, frail."

She gasped as he pressed against her stomach and fitted his hips more tightly against hers, causing more friction for his erection against her back. Instead of being frightened, it caused her to press more tightly against his chest and turn her head beneath his chin, seeking his lips.

He obliged, pressing them together. When they broke apart, he rolled on his back, pulling her with him.

He checked his watch. "You've got work in three hours."

"And how do you know that?" she murmured, lifting her head from where it was resting beneath his on his chest.

"You can do a lot with computers, frail."

She knew she should have been horrified that he had hacked into the hospital's computer system and read her schedule, but she wasn't. It made sense. That was probably how he had learned about everything else too.

"What are the scars from, frail?"

Her breath caught.

"And don't fuckin' tell me you fell."

She was silent for a few minutes and he waited. Finally, she spoke. "I would get so scared sometimes. Scared that I had fallen so far inside myself and I could never feel anything again. At least… when I did that I could feel something. Anything."

"I should shower," she said abruptly.

His grip tightened on her for a moment and then released. She looked down and remembered she was naked. She knew he had already seen her body, and part of her wanted him to admire her form, to be assured that her body was pleasing to him. But another part was terrified she would repulse him. She had always hated her body and clearly it was never good enough to inspire affection before.

In the end, modesty won out. She crossed her arms over her chest so at least her nipples were covered, however it only served to press her breasts together and enhance her cleavage. He said nothing, just watched her with interest.

She stumbled over to the door that she assumed led to the washroom to have her shower.

When she emerged, she was wrapped in a towel and smelled of his body wash. He was still in the bed, the sheet slung around his hips. His erection began to harden once again once he caught sight of her tight little ass barely covered with the cloth. She disappeared into the closet and reappeared in a pair of pink scrubs with bunnies on them.

He grinned at her, slightly mocking. "Cute bunnies."

She blushed and returned to the bed and curled up next to him.