I know a little shorter chapter but I've got a heavily researched project I'm working on right now, but at least I cleared the block here and WILL be finishing this.

Chapter 8 - Hearts and Flowers

Marie walked into the room, Logan was standing at the window, the stub of his cigar resting on the windowsill.

"Maggie's asleep, finally." She said as she walked up to him. "You should be resting."

"It's all a jumble. I get flashes of things but without a reference point, its just nonsense."

"But you're remembering?" He pulled her tight against his side and she tried to relax against him.

"Yeah." He said, brushing her hair with his lips.

"And...?" She needed him to tell her everything was okay, that he wasn't going to take off, not now.

"And the damned bastard is right. He's my half-brother. That much I remember. It's like I'm torn. He's my brother, but at the same time, I don't trust him, and there's a violent hatred there and I can't remember why?"

"Ah'm sure you will." She pressed her cheek to his shoulder.

"At least I'm sure of one thing, there aint no other living woman in my life, so you can quit worryin'." She smiled a little. She sometimes hated that nose of his.

"That's good ta hear...maybe."

"You aint gettin rid of me that easy, I chased ya too long til ya caught me." He chuckled and she let out a pent up sigh. It was her worst fear, he'd wake up someday and realize he had a wife and more kids somewhere. Now she could put it to rest.

"So - ya gonna ask him ta be your best man?"

"WOMAN!" He roared and she laughed.

"Well, he is family..."

"Yeah - and from what I'm getting of my shredded memories, he raised me...and I owe him, a lot, but the hate is stronger...and that is the one thing I can't remember - why?" He said as she slipped from his side and started getting ready for bed.

"It's stronger than what?" She asked, pulling off her top and throwing it toward the hamper. She glanced at the clock, it was almost five a.m. "Ah think you're gonna have ta cancel self defense classes, Sugar."

"Stronger than the love." She almost didn't hear his answer, and she looked at him in shock.

"Love?" She questioned.

"He raised me - and not just from the time our father...died. But even before, he's the one that taught me ta read and write...he's the one that protected me and kept me from gettin' hurt." She turned down the bed and slipped off her jeans. She grabbed her nightgown and walked to the bathroom door. "I just can't remember what he did that made me hate him."

"Well, maybe that's for the best...Sugar, Ah mean, if you were close for so long, maybe its best ta forget what caused tha hate."

"Are you INSANE!" He growled from the door. "He's a murdering monster. Remember Liberty Island?"

"Well, yeah he scared tha shit outa me but he never hurt me." She dropped her bra on the counter and caught the gleam in his eye in the mirror. "Besides, this...Victor...ain't anythin like Sabretooth."

"Yeah - I've noticed that. I remember something, his animal was taking over, and it was getting out of control...maybe that was it. Maybe I lost Victor to Sabretooth." He slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck.

"Can we talk about this in the mornin, Darlin." He whispered, his hands tracing up her stomach. "I've got somethin' else on my mind."

She smiled and turned in his arms.

"Sure, Sugar..." She kissed him softly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

She opened her eyes and groaned. She hated sleeping in hospital beds, and always ended up with a crick in her neck.

"You should be asleep."

"I'm fine." She sat up on the bed, rubbing her neck. "If I sleep any more in this torture device, I'll look like Quasimodo for a week." He chuckled, and moved to sit behind her on the bed. She tensed up, as hi started rubbing her neck and shoulders.

"If ya don't relax, you will end up like Quasimodo." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting her neck muscles relax under his hands. She wasn't sure how she felt. Physically she was fine, except the lingering headache, but she knew it would pass.

He and Logan were so different, but brothers? She was trying to digest that idea. Maggie was his niece, he was family in a way...did that make her a pervert for finding him attractive.

His hands worked the knots out of her neck and shoulders, not saying anything and she was grateful for the chance to think. Since coming to the school her life had been completely out of her control, and now she didn't know what to think.

"Why are you here, Victor?" She finally asked.

"I told you..."

"No, you gave a cryptic answer to a simple question, why are you here?"

"I need...no an old friend needs help, only a mutant with your gift can help him. He's dying." She could hear the pain, and honesty in his voice.

"So you need my mutation." That was it, it had to be it, he couldn't really want just her. It never worked out that way for her. She cringed as his hands hit a tight knot in her neck.

"No, woman, I...me...the man massaging your neck...need you. I didn't even know what the hell your mutation was until you pulled that trick with Jimmy Boy." He growled low. "And frankly, after that, bucket head can just die for all I care."

She sighed.

"It's not as bad as it looks...I take the wound, illness, whatever into my body then my healing factor heals it. I usually only have residual effects for a day or so, and those are minor."

"I still don't like seeing you hurt. I was damned...". She could hear him struggling with the word, and when it came out it was a strangled whisper "scared."

"Would you let me tell you that you couldn't use your powers?". She asked, rolling her neck under his skilled fingers. It made her wonder what else his hands were skilled at doing.

"No." He said it simply and she just nodded.

"Your friend, the one who's sick, can you estimate how much longer he has?" She asked finally.

"He's not in good shape, but after what you did today, you should rest." He said softly. His hands had gone from massaging to caressing and she leaned back into them. She hadn't felt like a woman in years, except for that brief moment in the cab of his truck, and feeling his hands just made her want to lean into him and never move. She knew he could smell her, know just how much she was enjoying this, but his hands never moved from her neck.

"I'm fine. It's my gift and if I think I need to use it I will."

"I'll contact Mystique and see if she can bring him here. I don't want you in that camp." The growl was menacing but comforting at the same time.

She felt his hands slide away from her and she turned to face him.

"That would probably be best." She whispered, stunned by the raw hunger in his eyes. She reached up to stroke her finger across his full lower lip, remembering the kiss in his truck. He growled low, then pulled her against him, his mouth crushing hers. She felt like he was trying to crawl inside her skin, and she wanted him there...forever.