Faithful minions. Sorry for not updating sooner. At first, I was discouraged about the flames and getting reported, and I frankly did not feel up to writing (I'd probably have spouted some downright depressing story) and then I was pretty busy, but I finally did it! Yay for me. I am pleased to say that so far, it seems like this story will not be taken down. I was frankly overwhelmed at the response I got from you guys. You rock. I'll do my best to satisfy you and keep the chapters coming. Now, with all the help of the Goddess Muse, I deliver this chapter to you. Be very happy.

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Marie was confused. Marie was afraid. Marie was panicking. Marie took a backseat and the new personality she had just acquired took precedence over her own, like a cloak had suddenly covered her. The woman who had approached her–Red, her inner Logan identified her as–seemed like bad news. She barred her teeth in warning, growling low in her throat, and crouched over Logan in a protective stance that was unmistakable.

The woman still came closer and tried to touch Logan–she snapped; her teeth clamped down on air scant millimetres from the pretty doctor's hand. She had good reflexes, but if she tried again, no matter how fast she could retreat her appendages, she would find herself saddled with more than just a warning bite.

"We want to help Logan just as much as you," explained Jean, "but to do that, we have to get him to the hospital ward."

For a long, tense moment, Marie didn't say anything, keeping her distrusting eyes on the beautiful woman. Hospitals were bad, hospitals were dangerous, but she had to think about what was best for Logan. Finally, she nodded, looking at Jean straight in the eyes.

"Alright, Red, lead the way. I'll take him there."

Scott coughed loudly, suggesting that Jean use her telekinetic powers to "levitate the beast to the infirmary." Immediately, Rogue was at his throat with a growl and a dark glare fixed on her pretty features.

"You listen and listen good, Bub. Logan may be feral, but he's not a beast and I won't tolerate that shit coming from anyone. That clear? If someone's acting like a beast right now, it's you. Who would stoop so low as to insult an injured man?" she snarled disdainfully. Without another glance at him, she squatted next to Logan's prone form and pulled him carefully on her shoulder, his heavy weight not even fazing her.

"Let's go."

Somewhat uncertainly, but noticing that the girl was doing fine on her own, Jean nodded and lead her to the elevator. Everyone stepped out of their way, more out of fear of the new girl's mutation than respect or solemnity at the situation.

Her heart thumped loudly in her ears when the elevator doors closed, but it was nothing compared to the frantic distress and utter fear that clawed at her when they stepped out into a sterile corridor. Her every instinct was yelling at her to get as far away as possible, but she repeated mentally her mantra of "It's for Logan, it's not dangerous, he needs to go there to heal" to refrain from turning tail and running.

The infirmary doors opened with a wave of Jean's hand and she entered her domain with long, graceful strides, only turning around when she heard a shuffle of feet. The new girl, looking as tense as a bow, cautiously stepped in, breathing hard. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead to her clenched jaws. A look of fierce determination was plastered on her face, just like her hair, and the red-haired doctor found herself wondering why. The girl had clearly had no problem hauling Logan around until now, so why did it look like it was taking her a tremendous effort to walk now? And then she remembered what Logan had told her about the girl. How she had been experimented on in a lab and that she should not go in the medical ward.

Pain and reminiscence. That was what the child had to feel at the moment, as she forced herself to step in a territory so alike the one in which she had been basically tortured. A surge of maternal instinct filled her and she suddenly had the urge to take the fragile girl in her arms and shield her from the world's harshness.

The girl, tension oozing out of her pores, cautiously walked to the bed, eyes darting everywhere in a manner all-too reminiscent of that of a cornered animal. She carefully laid the unconscious man on it, refusing to step back more than a few inches, her eyes roving over his large form.

Feeling that it would be useless to try to convince the girl to leave Logan to her, Jean instead adopted a comforting tone and moved slowly, so as to not startle the teenager into aggressiveness in reaction to a perceived threat.

"He'll be fine, you'll see. What's your name?"

The girl eyed her with open distrust before returning to Logan, dismissing her with a curt, "Rogue."

For the briefest of moments, Jean found herself thinking that the girl acted more like a pack mate than a rogue, but her attention shifted back to her patient and the thought disappeared as quickly as it had come.

By the time Jean had finished treating Logan, Rogue was breathing hard, hands clenched painfully as though to ground her to reality. She had reacted especially badly at the sight of syringes, and the doctor had had to explain to her that she was not going to hurt Logan. Now, with tubes sticking out of his body and a sheet covering his mostly naked body, the feral man looked like he was merely sleeping.

Knowing all they could do now was wait for him to get better, Jean suggested gently that Rogue go see the Professor to discuss her stay at the Mansion. Immediately, the slender teen huddled closer to the bed, unwilling to move, and shot her a lost gaze before turning back to the unconscious man.

She had a feeling the girl was afraid that Logan would suddenly roll over and die if she left him for even a moment. A surge of compassion washed over her.

"He won't die that easily, you know; he's a survivor. Thanks to his mutation, he'll heal quickly, but it will probably take a few days and there's no guarantee he'll wake up before then. How about we get you changed, then grab a bite and see the Professor, and you can come back to see how Logan is doing before the curfew?"

Rogue stayed silent for a long while, finally nodding and following the older woman silently–in fact, her footsteps were so silent that Jean once turned around to check whether she was still following her and was flabbergasted to see the girl literally prowling like a predator with an unnaturally fluid grace that she had only ever seen in Logan. It was disturbing how much like the gruff man the small teen was acting.

Eventually, the girl strayed from Jean and the doctor had to scramble to find her, wondering where the teen was going. It turned out that she managed to find Logan's bedroom by herself. As she asked herself aloud how she could have found it among all the other rooms, Rogue answered in a calm matter-of-fact way that it was where Logan's scent was the strongest. The doctor had to shake her head at the thought that the girl had just sniffed out Logan's room like a hunter dog before said girl entered, looked around and, with a satisfied sigh, went straight to a large chest, retrieved some of Logan's clothes and disappeared in the bathroom.

Jean was left standing in the middle of the room, nonplussed and feeling like disturbing the sanctity of Logan's bedroom would anger Rogue far more than she could deal with. She did not have to wait long–the blood should have been much harder to scrub off, really–and soon the girl stepped out of the bathroom, clad in too-big jean maintained in place by a decidedly male belt and rolled at the bottom, her pair of sneakers and a white sleeveless shirt that clearly belonged to a large, muscled man currently unconscious on the medical ward.

"Ya ready, Red?" asked the teenage girl with a smirk, her sexy smirk exactly like Logan, a lit cigar at the corner of her mouth. Her whole demeanour screamed "Sexy, confident, dominant alpha male." It was disturbing.

"Ah…Yes. You should be hungry, right? I'm sure I can find something to whip up in the kitchen."

Rogue shrugged.

"As long as there's beer, I don't care what grub you feed me."

Jean sighed mentally. Was that the girl's true personality? Had she been influenced that much by Logan during the time they had been together? Yet before she had sucked the life out of Logan, she had been drastically different. Maybe she had absorbed his personality as well as his mutation at that time.

She was wondering how long Rogue would have Logan's abilities and persona when they entered the kitchen. As it so happened, it wasn't deserted, even though dinner time had long since passed.

The male turned around at the sound of the door opening; Rogue stopped at the sight, tension suddenly pouring out of her in waves and hate in her eyes.

"Hey! You're the girl from earlier, the one who was with Wolverine. Remember me? I'm Bobby. I, er, just wanted to say sorry, you know, for–"

He was cut off abruptly when the snarling growl that had been building in the crouching girl's throat erupted in a clearly hostile sound that called for bloodshed.

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