Sorry about the posting delay! Between my internship, homework and RL, I haven't had much time to play. I freely admit to choosing a party over posting yesterday. There was a gourmet chocolate tasting. Come on, like y'all wouldn't have done the same thing?! ;)

[The Lake]

I never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don't just say
And nothing else matters

They were silent as they set up camp by the shore of the lake. The grandeur around them was deceptive. It was beautiful, but cold in a way that had nothing to do with ice and snow. There was so much pain here. Death and loss and heartache. It was a sad place.

Marie put up the small tent, her insides settling a little as she zipped their two sleeping bags together. Outside, Logan built a fire and gathered a massive pile of wood to last the night. Fire was warmth and safety... and the truth was, he still didn't like this place and wanted something to burn away the coming shadows.

When she was finished getting their things settled inside the tent she found him standing at the rocky shore, staring out over the water. It looked so different now. The crumbling edges of the old dam were all that was left of the installation that once dominated this wild place. Everything was underwater now. The lake sparkled in the sun. It was still and quiet. It smelled alpine, of crisp air that carried the scent of snow and evergreens under the pitch and smoke from the fire. It popped and sputtered at their back as the wind whipped the loose tendrils of her hair back from her face. She could hear the creak of wind in the trees and the gentle rhythmic slapping of the water against the shore. One could almost imagine it was a peaceful place if you were unaware of the dark history tainting the pristine beauty.

"What was it like?" Her voice was soft.

"Which time?"

The first time when they put the metal in him? Bubbles in a tank of pain. Screaming into a respirator. Three distinctive cuts gouging the cold concrete as he escaped. Rage. Terror.

The time he came back alone following the Professor's lead? A lone wolf. A rabbit warren of cover-ups and lies. Frustration.

The time Jean died? A look exchanged. Tags ripped away. A past, lost. A life, lost. Failure. Grief.

The time they found the Phoenix? Red shades, floating. A body on the rocks, not broken. At rest. Like Sleeping Beauty, like Snow White after the apple. Like a fairytale come to life. Elation. Guilt.

So much guilt.

"You know which one." There was only one time they hadn't yet talked about. "What was it like when you found her?" He never looked away from the water but his hand found hers.

"Wrong."

"Wrong?"

"It felt... wrong here. Smelled wrong, too. Fuckin' bad juju. I could feel it walkin' down outta the plane. It was foggy as hell. Oppressive. Electric, like that moment before lightnin' strikes. But heavy, too. Like a blanket smotherin' ya. Pressin' in from all around. 'Ro felt it too."

Marie felt a ripple inside her. Power stirring.

"She took carea the fog. I thought seein' would make things better, but it was worse after. So much worse. Shit was floatin' all around us, like bubbles. But not movin' with the wind. Not controlled exactly, but not really random, either. Rocks, sticks, leaves, droplets of water. Anythin' not nailed down."

She squeezed his hand, but let him talk uninterrupted.

"That shit ain't right. You could feel the bad; could feel the power all around. And then this pair of red shades floated by me and I knew-" his voice hitched, but not with pain. With guilt. "I knew right then." He was silent long minutes. "I knew and part of me felt bad... but a bigger part was glad 'cause I was thinkin' I finally had a shot at her with him gone."

It was an ugly truth.

They both winced.

"The Professor told us before we left that he'd felt her 'emerge'. That was the word he used. Emerge. I didn't get it then- but I do now. I don't think he felt Scott die. He felt her wakin' up. That's what rattled him so damn bad."

"I loved Charles, but I'm not surprised he sent you after her. He always could make the hard decisions."

He grunted at that.

"'Ro and me, we knew somethin' real bad had happened here but before I could even wrap my head around it, she was yellin' my name and I was runnin' over to where 'Ro'd found her lyin' on the rocks." He didn't say they found Jean on the rocks because they both knew that wasn't true. It had never really been Jean. Not since the moment she'd disappeared under the rushing water as she lifted the Blackbird to safety. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Her hair was so red, like fire on the rocks. Different than before. It's weird what you remember, right? She was breathin' and all I could think was that she was alive and I was glad it was me and not him who'd been the one to find her." His jaw clenched. "That's the kinda person I am, kid."

"That's the kind of person you were." Her hand was strong in his. "We both needed some miles, sugar."

He grunted again.

They started walking. It seemed like a random path but her feet found a smooth, windswept outcropping of stone that overlooked the water too easily for it to have been completely by chance. Something had pulled her to this place.

Inside her, the Phoenix shuddered and woke, drawn by the lingering energy of this sad place.

"It was here."

"What was?" He wasn't following.

"He found her here."

Logan looked at Marie sharply. There was no way she could know that. Even if she had Scott in her head; hell, even if she had Jean in her head- that touch had happened before Scott had died here.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.

"Kid?"

Logan shuddered as he watched her face change. Her pupils expanded until her eyes were solid black and then brilliant irises the color of flames emerged.

Jean's eyes.

No, the Phoenix's eyes.

That rocked him back and Marie's words came to him. She'd been scared of stirring the old ghosts. Logan started to shake. Marie carried the ghosts within her. He should have thought of that before bringing her here. No wonder she'd been apprehensive. No wonder she thought this would be hard. He was a damned fool.

"It was here," she said again in a voice not quite her own.

"Kid?" Logan grabbed her arms and shook her. "Marie!" he said sharply, feeling a hot stick of fear. "You leave her alone!" He spoke to the frightening creature who had Marie in her grasp. There was no titillation for him there anymore. Not after what he'd seen her do on Alcatraz. Not after what she'd done to him there.

"I'm sorry." Her features softened and she touched his face gently, seemingly unaware of his harsh words. She had her own agenda. What he wanted was of little consequence, just as it had been so long ago. "Goodbye, Logan."

Oh, God. Oh, Christ. C'mon!

"Kid!" He shook her harder. "Don't do this. C'mon, darlin'."

Marie shook her head and he watched as the blackness in her eyes contracted to the diameter of her pupil and she blinked a few times. He'd never been so happy to see her vivid green eyes.

"Logan?" She was more than a little rattled.

"Oh thank Christ!" He hugged her to him hard.

"Oof! You're squeezing the stuffin' out of me, sugar."

He relaxed his hold but did not let her go. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. That was... it felt weird, but I'm okay."

"You sure?"

She took a moment to peer inward. She was unsettled but not damaged. "Yeah. She's gone now. Really gone, I think." As much as they ever could be, anyway.

"What the hell was that?"

"A goodbye? I guess the Phoenix wanted one too. There are echoes of her power here. I should have guessed that this might happen."

"Fuck that. We're gettin' outta here. I'm not takin' chances with you, baby. I never woulda brought you here if I'd been thinkin' right." He tried to pull her away. She stood resolute. He might as well have been trying to move a mountain for all the good it did.

"No."

"No?"

"You don't have to be afraid."

"The fuck I don't. I saw her in your eyes."

"Hey, hey... You're not going to lose me."

"I'm not gonna take that chance, kid. Not again. It would kill me this time."

"Logan, listen to me. You're not going to lose me. I'm stronger than she is."

"Kid, you're damned strong now, I'll give ya that. But you're not stronger than her. She's a Class Five. Your power has limits. Hers don't. She's a goddamn goddess." The fact that her consciousness could reach out and speak to them from the Beyond was proof enough for him.

"I know. Listen to me. Her power is stronger than mine, that's true. But I'm stronger than she is. Me. The person. The vessel. I'm stronger than Jean because I lean into it."

"Mmph." He was not convinced.

"Charles put a series of psychic blocks in her mind."

"I know. He told me. I told him he was full of shit. That when you cage a beast, it gets pissed."

"You were right. Remember what we talked about last night? How personal discovery and growth comes from letting there be room for all things to happen? Grief. Relief. Misery. Joy. When Charles stopped her from fully experiencing those things with all of herself, she stopped growing. It stunted her ability to embrace what she really was. Maybe even to control it. Who knows what she might have been, what might have happened if he hadn't done that? If she'd had the chance to lean into it instead of hiding from it?"

That might be true, but he'd seen that power first hand. Had felt it sear his flesh to ash on a whim. He had seen her take men apart atom by atom.

"She killed the Professor."

"How many people have you killed who put you in a cage?" His head reared back. "I'm not defending her. I loved Charles. I love him still. I'll never be able to forgive her for what she did, for taking his light from the world. But I can understand it a little."

"She killed Scott. I'm not takin' that risk with you." He was emphatic.

"That's not what happened."

"How do you know?"

"She showed me. They showed me."

"They?"

He didn't like the sound of that.

She nodded.

"He found her here. She told him to take the glasses off, that she could control his gift. She was right. He did and they kissed. In that moment, he knew Jean was gone."

"And she killed him."

"Not like you mean."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"The Phoenix consumed Jean. He followed her into the fire. It was what he wanted." She was crying now. "You go- I go. That's what it was for him. They were a package deal too."

"God." There was a lump in his throat. He knew what that kind of love felt like now, and in a profoundly personal way it made him understand Scott's grief and his choice to follow his lover. He would never like the man, but he understood him a little better now.

Logan held Marie while she trembled and cried in his arms.

"I miss him, you know?" Her tears were wet on his neck and he could feel the warmth of her breath as she spoke.

A part of him hated hearing that, but he knew she needed to say it.

"I miss her, too."

"He was my friend," she said softly.

Logan had no reply to that. Jean hadn't ever been his friend. The Wolverine had wanted the wildness in her. He'd been so different then, incapable of opening his heart. Marie was right, the miles he'd put on since then had changed him. She had changed him. She'd split his heart wide open.

"I know, kid."

"I miss him so much." Her strong body shook with tears. "I know- I know it's hard for you to hear that."

It was.

"But he was just- just there for me. Really there. When I was down. When I needed someone to talk to. When I wanted to play a really good prank. All those times you were gone. That was hard and he was one who pulled me through a lot of that."

"Jesus, baby. You're killin' me here." He was trying to lean into it, but it hurt. Bad. This time, instead of running from it or walling himself off from the pain, he let it wash through him. Another man had taken care of her when he could not. He hated seeing his own weakness reflected back at him, but with it came the realization that he was grateful for what Scott had done for her and the knowledge that he'd changed enough to be what she needed now in a way he never could have been before.

Gradually her shudders of sadness became shivers of cold.

This time she allowed him to lead her back toward their camp and the fire that had probably burned low in their absence. He lit a cigar and was still thinking about the fire when her steps slowed and she stopped along a particularly unexceptional stretch of shoreline.

"What is it, baby?"

Her hand stretched out toward the water.

"I feel..." her head tilted. "Yes.. it's there... a piece of that remarkable metal." Logan shivered. He never liked hearing Magneto come out of her mouth, even if the voice was all hers. The dulcet tone was the same, but she lost the drawl. His words were measured and clipped, and to his ear they sounded wrong on her tongue. It had happened a few times before, but not enough times for him to always understand what triggered it.

"How big a piece?" The memory of filling that poor crazy bitch with adamantium until she drowned in it flashed unpleasantly through his mind. Surely her body had been so heavy that even that much rushing water couldn't have washed her this far from the facility? She should stay buried. Let her rest.

Marie blinked and extended her hand, her fingers moving slightly as she concentrated. "Not big. Couple of inches maybe?"

Relief softened his stiff stance. Not a body then. Maybe just a little of the metal that had been left in the tubing. That could have easily been washed down this far.

"Get it for me."

His request seemed to surprise them both.

Her eyes closed and her fingers stiffened and shook. He took a step back. That power always made his bones resonate unpleasantly. A hundred yards out, a small blob rose out of the lake and rocketed in their direction. She slowed the speed as it got closer. It wasn't much to look at, covered with muck and sediment from the bottom of the lake.

There was a sparkle in her eye as she reached out with her other hand. "I'm just gonna borrow that a minute, sugar..."

She reached for Pyro's gift and stole the red glow from the tip of his cigar. It flared and burned brightly in her palm, consuming the filthy lump of metal floating effortlessly above her fingers. The flame changed from yellow to blue to white, hotter and hotter to burn away the chaff, leaving the wheat behind. When the fire died, what remained was a flawless ribbon of adamantium about the diameter of the inside of a garden hose, curved in a shallow semi-circle. It was not quite as long as her hand and gleamed in her fingers.

Logan reached out to touch it and sucked in a sharp breath as the silky metal burned his skin.

"Shit!" He sucked his finger with a scowl and a dark chuckle. Burns always healed slower and stung miserably.

"Careful."

"It don't hurt you?" She was invulnerable but that didn't mean that she was immune to pain.

"Nah. John's got asbestos fingers," she grinned and quenched the metal in the cool water of the lake before handing it to him; a baptism of sorts.

Logan turned it over in his fingers, feeling the warm silky metal under his fingertips.

"Thanks."

She shrugged. "It belongs with you."

It did.

It was mate to the metal that was fused to his skeleton. They were the same. It wasn't just that the metal was similar. It was from the same batch that was bonded to his bones, suspended as a liquid for three decades before the failure of the dam turned it into one of the most expensive paperweights the world had ever seen. The thought was particularly suited to his wry humor.

Logan tucked it into his breast pocket with a nod. The weight felt surprisingly good. It settled something in him.

He kissed her there, on the shore of the lake of pain, and for the measure of time she was in his arms, he felt none of it.

Up next: The Goodbye. Fire. Ice. Blood. Old ghosts are laid to rest. New ones stir... and the lovers share another first.