Chapter IX:

Blood. It was everywhere, on the blankets, on the pillows, even on her hands and apron. She couldn't escape it. It was as though the color had seeped into her eyes and tainted her vision. All she could hear was the sound of someone's heart beating. Was it her own? Was it Jacob's? God where was it coming from! She covered her ears against the noise and looked around frantically. All she could see was a bed, occupied by a young boy, crying out in pain and clutching his chest. His hands, as well, were covered in the red substance, and it made her shudder. Nurses flooded in from every direction. No one seemed to hear her. Their lips moved and she saw their eyes dart this way and that, but she couldn't grab their attention. She was screaming til her lungs ached, and still no relief was provided to her.

Someone was shaking her. She wasn't aware of the thought until after she'd jerked violently from her nightmare. She didn't care at the moment who it was, so long as they were there and could provide comfort. At first she thought it was Jean, but the strong arms closing in around her proved otherwise. It was a man, not the good Doctor McCoy either. He was smoothing her hair down and whispering to her as though she were a child, frightened by a storm outside her window. She was vaguely aware that she was shaking, and the moment the nightmare flooded back into her memory she yanked her hands from inbetween herself and her comforter, and stared at them. No blood, not on the palms, nor on the backs when she flipped them over. She ran them both through her hair, before burying her face into them and letting out a shakey breath. "Easy..." All at once, the voice registered in her mind, and a flood of confusion poured into her.

"Logan...?" No... it couldn't be him. He had just been yelling at her hours ago, accusing her of toying with his emotions. She hadn't known that at the time, but after sitting down and analyzing the conversation, it made perfect sense. She decided he was jealous. And then it occured to her that he had nothing to be jealous about, really. He couldn't be jealous of a relationship that didn't exist.

"Easy darlin'... don't try and talk... just relax..." It was hard not to, what with the way he was slowly rocking back and forth, all the while stroking her hair and back to alleviate her panic. Her arms ached, and she realized then how tightly she must be holding him. Muttering an apology, she loosened the hold, but never completely removed them from around his waist. It seemed too comfortable a gesture, too normal, as though they'd done it before.

"It was an awful nightmare... everything blood red... Ah... Ah tried to scream... but no one could hear me..."

"Shhh... I heard ya... and I'm here..."

"Yes... and you shouldn't be..." She couldn't help but laugh slightly. "We always seem to do things that are against the rules, don't we?"

"Rules are made to be broken." She was aware of a lot of things just then. Such as the warmth coming from his body and resting against hers. The feel of his fingers sinking into her hair as he continued to hold her close. The emotion building up inside her was intoxicating... making her unable to concentrate on anything but him.

Until she remembered her ability to hurt him. That thought plaguing her mind, she pulled away from him, offering a small, tight grin. "Sorry... Ah just... Ah don't want t'hurt you..." He reached forward and flicked a finger lightly, causing a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes to jump up and rejoin the rest of her locks atop her head. He then held up two hands, and she had to laugh slightly to see gloves covering both of his hands.

"I thought ahead."

"You can take them off now... Ah... Ah'm all right." She turned slightly, enough to swing her legs off the bed and rest her feet upon the floor. The cold sprang up into them, sending a shiver up her spine in the process. She reached behind her, absently, and took hold of her thin blanket, pulling it up and over her still trembling shoulders. The snapping sound of the gloves being pulled off echoed throughout her quarters, and she winced, hoping no one heard it. "How did you get in here...? There are nurses on duty... they'd never let you..."

"They don't know. I was quiet."

"We could get into trouble..." She wasn't thinking of his being in her room, not at that present moment anyway. She realized it all now. She cared for this man, more than she cared for her patients in general. This was something else... something she couldn't remember ever feeling before.

"They'll never know." All at once, it was clear how close he was because she could feel his warm breath upon her, just as she could feel his lips close to her ear. He had moved onto the small bed she slept on, and had wrapped an arm around her to pull her against him. He'd done so before, once, back at the dock when she had admitted to him just what she was.

"Ah'm not tha best liar..."

"Just tell them you needed my help carrying some supplies into the supply closet."

"What...?" She turned to look at him, confused. How would that convince the others that she didn't have feelings for him? Then she realized it. He was thinking about their present condition. "Oh... yeah... Ah'll do that..." She watched his brow bend in concern as he brought a hand up and faintly touched her chin to make her look up at him.

"What is it, Marie?"

"It's... nothin', sugah... nothin'... Ah guess Ah'm still a little shaky from that dream is all..." She let out a deep breath, and something inside told her he hadn't believed a word of it. "So we're back to a first name basis, hm?" It took a moment to register what she was implying, but when it did, the sudden shame that filled his eyes was enough to tell her how sorry he was. "It's all right, Logan... Ah understand..."

"No... you don't... hell, I don't even understand it. But for some reason, when that lady told me that guy had proposed to you, I felt this anger build up... anger that I haven't felt since landing here. I've done some thinkin'... and the only logical thing I could come up with was that I was jealous. Doesn't make much sense to me... it's something I've never had to deal with before." He sighed and looked down at the ground, pulling his arm from around her shoulder, and folding his hands together. He seemed to watch them a long time, not knowing the words to say. Marie watched him carefully, slowly coming to grips with the reality that the chance that he felt the same was very real. "Aw geez, Marie, I'm not the kind of man that does this sort of talkin'. I can spit out commands, one right after the other, in the middle of a battle. Then, sittin' in front of a beautiful woman, I can't even muster up three nice sentences."

"Logan, you don't have to..." Somehow, she knew what it was he was trying to say. Maybe it was because it was what she'd been feeling all this time. Maybe not.

"I do have to... you deserve that much. You deserve more 'n that..." He rubbed his hands together and looked up at her, searching her eyes for any kind of sign. After a few moments, Logan straightened, and turned slightly so he was better facing her. It looked to Marie as though he'd found what he was looking for. "All I know is, from the day I woke up, to this evening when I heard you screamin', there wasn't a moment gone by that you weren't somewhere in my mind. You may not be up front always, but you're there, no matter what. An' I like it that way. There's always been a void somewhere in me that didn't seem to wanna get filled up. Now I'm thinkin'... well... I'm thinkin' maybe it has."

"Logan..." She was confused... not with him, but with herself. All the words he'd just said were what she'd imagined him saying over and over when she was laying in bed thinking at night. And still, a part of her didn't want to hear them, because she knew nothing could come of this. He was a soldier... the moment they found out he's able to fight again, they'd set him on a transport and ship him out again. Meanwhile, she'd remain there, wondering if he was all right, never quite sure if he was leading troops into battle or sprawled out dead in a trench.

"Don't tell me no, Marie... not without good reason." His hand moved slowly, her eyes following its path up to her cheek, where it rested lightly.

"Ah'm not supposed to..."

"Who're they to..."

"Ah know... they are nobody. They shouldn't have a say in mah life, but Logan, tha truth is, for tha time bein', they do. They tell me when Ah eat, sleep, go out, and yes, they even tell me when Ah can and cannot fall in love." She sighed heavily, taking his face into her two, slightly trembling hands, and looked at him. "Ah do care for you. But Ah can't risk bein' sent back to tha States. Eventually, you're going to go back to fightin' an' Ah'll be left here..."

"You're too far ahead of yourself, Marie. I've got a good month left before they can even think of takin' me back. That's plenty of time to be together... And after the war, I'll come back here, throw you over my shoulder, and never let you out of my sight again."

"Do you know what you're askin' of me, sugah?"

"I'm asking for time. Don't answer me right now. Give this a shot. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Ah don't know, Logan, Ah just can't..."

"Marie!" The sudden call was almost too much for her. Her mind was swamped with thoughts, flooded with confusion, and dampened with doubt. There was so much she needed to think about... it would take her a month just to sort through all the present emotions clinging to her.

"That's Betsy callin'..."

"Yeah..."

"Ah need to go... she'll get suspicious if Ah'm not prompt. You... you can't stay here an' wait, Ah may be a while and someone is bound to notice you're missin'. Ah don't know what Ah'm going to do about all this... but Ah can't think about that now. Ah'm sorry..." She sighed and left him alone in the room. The chore Betsy needed assistance on took only a short period of time, leaving Marie to hope Logan would still be in her room when she returned. She wanted to see him again, be with him, without all the complications they were both adding.

When she turned to enter her room, however, it was empty. She tried to ignore the feeling of her heart falling in her chest as she pulled the blankets back and slid into bed. All the stress and tension from the day, in addition to the added feeling of loss still weighing down upon her, made it very easy for her to fall into a deep sleep, free of all nightmares. In the midst of her exhaustion, she failed to notice the lone figure, leaning against her door frame, body outlined by the small shafts of light streaming in around him. Nor could she see the countenance, distorted by pain, as he turned, closing the door, and leaving her in peace.