I woke as a shudder ran through the plane. I blinked slowly and slide my eyes half open towards the window, recognising the dark artificial lighting of the basement level of the Mansion. I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes, listening as I willed myself to stand. I heard Jubilee get out of the seat and Jeans hushed voice said, "Leave her to sleep. I think it's been a bit of a horrific day for her."

As their footsteps faded down the stairs, I opened my eyes again. I could see Logan sitting down on a chair in the hanger, healed from his earlier wounds. A short cigar hung from the corner of his mouth, the smoke curling upwards around his face. His eyes stared at the ground, seemingly trying to bore a hole in it with his eyes. The scraps of leather that were once his uniform were hanging off him in pieces, his blood caked onto the leather. I looked down at my own uniform, the same red blood against the black. Bile rose in my throat as I unclipped my belt and stumbled towards the door.

Logan stumped his cigar out on the concrete and walked into the changing room as I paused at the plane doorway. I leaned against it, sucking in fresh air in deep breathes, . I walked down the stairs and across the floor towards the elevator. I heard Jubilee call out to me, but I ignored her as I punched at the elevator buttons. The doors slid open as Logan rounded the corner, pulling on a hooded jersey. Our eyes met briefly as the doors slid closed.

As the lift doors slid open on the dormroom, there were audible gasps of horror at my appearance. The group of students crowding around fell silent and parted as I stuck my head down and started walking. While everyone knew about the X-men and their exploits, the team was usually so careful to hide the aftermath of these encounters. The students rarely knew if one of their teachers or fellow students had been fighting, let alone seen us in uniform or hurt. Many only knew what was passed on to them by older students when the plane flew up from the basketball court. I was too tired to be anything more than indifferent to their shock. Reality was obviously a bit less glamorous than the story told by torchlight. Bloody footprints marked the carpet as I trudged towards my dormroom.

I snuck a look down the hall as I made it to my room. Making his way through the stunned students was Logan. I quickly entered the code and slipped inside. I locked the door behind me, deactivating the key codes. I pulled off my gloves and leaned my forehead against the door. I could hear heavy footsteps thump up to my door and faint beeps as a 6 digit was entered into the keypad outside. The door handle rattled as Logan tried to turn it and faint swearing as it refused to give way.

"Marie" He hissed through the door. "Let me in. I just need to talk to you."

I ignored his whispers and walked into my bathroom. Splashing my face with water, I stared at my reflection. The left side of my face was caked in blood, the trails of water dripping red off my chin. My white streak was a strange pink/red as I picked chunks of dried blood from my hair and dropped them into the sink below. Flashes of other people memories flowed through my head, their lives snatched away by my unforgiving skin. Pulling open the medical cabinet, I pulled out soap and began scrubbing my hands. No matter how much I scrubbed, the colour remained. I could feel the crusty feeling of the dried blood beneath my fingernails, smell it as I scrubbed and rinsed. Frustrated, I tossed the soap into the sink and opened up the cabinet below it. Pushing aside a small collection of various shampoos and soaps, I finally found a facecloth and a stiff nail brush. Rubbing the bristles against the top of the soap, I resumed my scrubbing and rinsing, trying to get rid of the blood.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get rid of it. The water ran clear as I rinsed off the soap, but I could still feel it there. As I caught myself in the mirror, I dropped the brush and picked up the washcloth to start on the dots of red on my face. As though my own body was taunting me, my skin took on a bloody colour of its own, red-raw from my scrubbing.

Logan's impatient knocking at the door became louder and louder until finally the blade sliced through the lock and the door swung open. Drying my face, I walked out of the bathroom. Dressed in his gym tracksuit, Logan gently closed the door and leaned against it. His eyes wandered over my blood soaked X-men suit.

"That all my blood?" he said calmly.

I nodded and looked down at my suit. Tears sprung to my eyes. Logan came over and put his arms around me, pulling me into a big bear hug. I cried into his shoulder, the sobs shuddering through my whole body. His hands stroked my hair as he hushed into my ear.

"I'm alright Marie, everything's alright."

"All the blood Logan." I sobbed. "The blood…."

"It's over now Marie. Everything's alright now."

Leaning back, I looked up into his eyes. "No, its not. It's never gonna be alright, Logan. There's always going to be blood and bloodshed and the memories…"

I broke away as I stared at the patch of pinkish red I had left on his jumper. Images of his hands covered in blood flashed across my vision. I backed away, retreating to the bathroom door. "You can go now Logan. I need some time to think."

Logan followed my gaze to the patch of blood. "Look, Marie…"

"Stop calling me that." I said quietly. "Marie is a sixteen year old from Mississippi, who only had to worry about math tests and mall crawls and who's got a crush on who." I could hear my voice getting louder and more panicked, but I couldn't stop.

"I have blood on my hands Logan." I choked on my words, trying hard to calm down. "I live in a world of codenames and hatred and actually having to fight everyday for my own existence. I can kill someone with a touch and today I have BLOOD on my hands. Literally! This is not Marie. This shouldn't be me, this shouldn't be my life."

"I'm really starting to think that Marie's dead and gone and I'm not liking her replacement." I turned around and walked slowly into the bathroom. "Just… leave me alone Logan. I need to think." I said as calmly as I could before closing the bathroom door.

I leant against the door, my knees giving way as I slid onto the floor. I heard his footsteps and the door clicked shut as he left. I sat against the bathroom door, crying as though I would never stop. Silent tears ran down my cheeks. What had I done? Had I just pushed away my only true friend? The one friend who truly cared for me?

My friend who had blood on his hands too. I stood up and stepped into the shower. As I turned on the water, the blood dripped from the suit and disappeared down the drain. Logan's memories flooded my head….

I could feel how scared he was when he accidentally stabbed me, his thoughts of responsibility and fear when I trying to leave. And the cold feeling of vengeance and hate as he plunging his claws into Mystique. I smacked my head against the wall of the shower, gasping at the pain.

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" I screamed, clawing at my temples. My breathing quickened and I felt dizzy. "Leave me alone…" I sobbed as I slid down the wall onto the shower floor.

Memories of the pain he suffered as I sucked the life out of his body. The pain he had suffered because of me. I pulled off the suit, the blood still dripped from it, swirling at my feet.

I reached up and turned off the cold water tap. The water turned scalding hot, my skin prickled with pain. I sat under the streams of burning water. I must get rid of the blood I thought, scrubbed at my skin. The horrible red blood. Unable to stay under the water any longer, I turned off the water. My skin tingled with throbbing pin-pricks and I just lay back, relishing it like if I say here long enough, it could burn away my sins.