A/N: This chapter took the most time writing, because I wanted to make sure my "Logan" was up to my high standards of how he and the Wolverine should be portrayed. I think of Logan as a pretty gruff fella whose language can and does get a lil … coarse, so this is definitely a PG-13 chapter. I really could have had some fun with the way this part goes, but I decided to keep the series a PG/PG-13 and only skim over the events. Hope y'all like the end result! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I want to leave.
To jump on Scott's bike and take off again.
I don't, though.
*I can't.*
There was no place to go now. I doubt I'll ever recover all my memories from before Stryker began his experiments on me and if the twisted fuck was to be believe, I didn't want to remember. It hadn't been a very hard decision to leave that past behind me at Alkali Lake with the tags I'd thrown at Stryker's feet.
Everything was about the present and future now. Here.
My heart, mind, and soul are rooted here now, keeping my body from moving too far away from the school.
Growling as my body demands some kind of release, I charge into the woods, claws ripping through the skin of my knuckles to slash into the first tree I come to.
In my fury of unfamiliar emotions, the six foot long, razor-sharp admantium blades quickly tear through the trunk, toppling the tree. It crashes onto the school's well-kept lawn and the sight of its branches gouging into the earth shakes me from Wolverine's control.
I retract the claws with a grimace of pain as the blades slice through my flesh on the way back in.
Rubbing my hands, I allow myself to wonder again if Stryker had been telling the truth. If I had done this to myself by volunteering to undergo some of the man's twisted experimentation on mutants.
Not wanting to repeat my impersonation of a lumberjack, I shake off the thoughts and focus on my mess. People are beginning to emerge from the school, drawn by the noise of the falling tree.
"Logan?" Storm rushes forward, concerned by the sight she sees upon arriving outside.
I don't answer.
I can't. What would I say?
Sensing that whatever has happened here was not a threat to anyone, she turns her attention to me and takes control of the curious children. With a look over her shoulder to indicate she will demand an explanation later, the weather Goddess assures them that everything is ok while she and her constant companion Kurt urges everyone back inside.
Once again alone, I wonder if there is an axe anywhere on the premises and where it would be if so.
~~I believe a chainsaw would work better for your purposes, Logan, and you can find that in the tool shed on the south lawn.~~
~~I don't remember asking you inside my head, bub.~~
~~I don't recall asking you to prune that tree.~~
Smirking at that comeback, I head off to get the chainsaw. Inside the tool shed, I also find an axe and craving real physical labor, I grab it as well before leaving the building.
There was a figure moving slowly around the tree as I made my way back to it. My eyes adjusted to the growing darkness and identified the person as Marie. I wasn't really ready to face her yet, but I didn't stop my approach.
"Are we having a bonfire or are you thinking of building a cabin here?" she asks when I finally reach her side.
Growling, but otherwise ignoring her, I set down my toys and remove my shirt. That done, I pick the axe up again, pop my neck then begin chopping branches off the tree.
The kid ain't stupid, she knows when to back off and stop with the conversation.
Plus there was the fact that an angry growling me armed with an axe would shut anyone up.
*It wasn't enough to scare her off though.*
She just quietly perched herself on the stump of what remained rooted in the ground of this tree and watched me work. I doubt she could really see me though as it got darker and only a quarter moon filled the sky.
This was just what I needed, I thought taking a moment to rub the sweat from my face after a while.
I certainly hadn't planned, nor would I have ever thought, to be chopping up a tree in the dead of night at Xavier's school, but it was working. The repetitive motions of the axe as I removed branch after branch and tossed them aside required lots of muscle and no thought.
Of course, not needing to concentrate on the movements allowed my thoughts to stray elsewhere.
Like to Marie.
Thoughts of that nature usually went in a direction I didn't want to go right now, so I tried to focus on something else.
Of all things, I settled on something that had haunted me since Sunday.
*Hell, who was I kidding, everything about that day haunted me.*
But one thing in particular disturbed me almost as much as thinking I'd seen Jean die and Stryker's taunts.
*There had been another one like me and I had killed her.*
After always thinking I was alone in the world, separated from all others with mutations no one else had, Sunday I learned I'd been wrong.
No matter how necessary it had been, I regretted killing her almost more than anything else I'd ever done.
I suppose a big part of that regret was facing the fact that if I had been able to kill her, I too could die.
In the eighteen years of my life that I can remember, the thought had truly never occurred to me.
When Rogue had touched me those two times three years ago, I'd thought she could have killed me, but never did I think I would die.
I was mortal after all, Sunday had taught me and it scared the shit of me.
Sunday also told me how human I was, my grief and mourning for Jean disproving Stryker's statement that I was an animal.
Sure, I had the Wolverine inside me and he was definitely a beast, but even he had grieved.
*With Marie.*
Sighing, I chopped off the last branch and searched through the darkness to find the object of that thought.
She was one of a very few who ever faced us both and lived to tell.
Not only had she seen Logan and the Wolverine separately, but she was also one of the few to see us both in the moments where we actually shared this body or as one personality emerged to control my body.
She was without a doubt the only one who had ever really understood all that.
Even I had trouble accepting that there were two sides to my personality, each so strong they were in fact separate, she understood and never feared it.
Cracking my neck bones again, I throw down the axe and pick up the chainsaw.
"Don't you think you should wait until morning to do that?" she finally breaks the silence by asking.
The question makes me realize a great deal of time has gone by and looking at the school, it appears many children have gone to sleep. Changing my plans, I pick the axe back up, grab my shirt off the ground, and begin moving toward the school, intending to take the tools to my room so they'd be safe there and ready for me to use in the morning.
"Ah hope you aren't planning on doing some remodeling. The professor tends to frown on things like that." Marie says as she trots along beside me.
The words draw a rumble of laughter from me. "I'm sure he does."
Without another word the two of us make our way to my room on the third floor.
It was a nice room. The same one I'd been given during my first stay here.
I set the axe and chainsaw down against the wall just inside the door. My shirt gets rolled into a ball and tossed in the direction of my closet as I move to sit on the bed. Sweaty from my work and thinking only of a scalding hot shower, I pay no attention to Marie as I take off my shoes.
As they thud to the floor, I can't miss her moving from her hesitant stance in the open doorway into the room. The door clicks shut firmly behind her as I stand again.
I turn to her with my brow arched in question at that, wondering what she's up to.
"Ah think we need to talk, Logan," is all she says as she moves closer to me.
Anticipating some kind of emotional scene about any one of the many things going on in our lives and around us at the school, I nod. "Lemme shower first."
She nods back and sits down on the bed while I reach into my bag on the floor to pull out some semi-clean clothes.
I really need to unpack, I think as I complete my task.
And do some laundry, I realize as I get a whiff of my "semi-clean" clothes.
Looking at Marie, I'm surprised neither she nor anyone else here had said anything.
Guess they only smell that bad to me with my keen senses, I think as I move into my bathroom to take my shower.
Only wanting to clean away the sweat and dirt I'd acquired during the day, I grabbed the bar of soap in the shower stall and did just that within a few minutes. I took another second or two before stepping out to allow all the suds and dirt to wash away and run down the drain.
Leaving the steamy cubicle, I grab a towel and begin wiping the moisture from my flesh. Knowing Marie is waiting to "talk" I hang the towel back up and, still damp, step into a pair of sweats.
I re-enter my bedroom while putting on the white t-shirt I'd grabbed. Decently covered, I move to settle onto the bed at the foot of which she still sits a little tensely.
I jostle her as I climb on it, finding a comfortable position reclining back against the headboard.
When she turns to stare at me for that, I pat the mattress beside me. "Be easier to talk from here."
Apparently agreeing with me, she moves to sit on the spot indicated twisting her legs into what I think is called a "lotus position." Whatever it is, it looks uncomfortable, so I immediately move to put her in a pose similar to mine.
Satisfied, I return to leaning back against the headboard beside her before realizing we can't really have a meaningful conversation if we're both looking up at the ceiling.
I find a better position by scooting down, roll on my side to face her and propping myself up with my left arm.
Catching on, Marie does the same.
I see the fingers of her right hand peeking through her hair as it held her head up off the bed. The black satin of the opera length gloves she wore nearly made the small digits invisible among the dark strands.
I allowed myself a moment to look at her, running my eyes over her body and denying that I was at all hungry for the sight.
Her hair with those two startling white streaks made me smile a little, not at the memory of how she got them, but because she wore them with such flair and refused to dye them.
Around her neck was a black scarf and I was a little surprised to see it. When I had returned here Sunday afternoon, I had noticed right away that she'd been wearing nothing around her neck at that time. I hadn't really paid attention in the days since to see if she'd worn one since then, but the fact that she had it on now made me wonder why she'd left it off then.
Not voicing those thoughts, I continue my visual inspection.
Thankfully she had chosen a more modestly cut black shirt today rather than the low cut, cleavage revealing things she'd been torturing me with recently. Still, the fabric clung and drew my attention to small, soft mounds of her breasts as they pressed against the shirt.
Moving quickly from that enticing view, my gaze swept over her small waist and the gentle swell of her hips, which were squeezed into a pair of tight black jeans.
No doubt about it, Marie had a great body and one that demanded she be seen as anything other than the "kid" I sometimes called her.
Staring blankly at her thighs, I do some quick math and realize I no longer have the age thing to worry about, so I no longer need to remind myself of her illegal youth by calling her kid. Not that it had really been illegal, since 17 was the age of consent in the state of New York, but she'd been a young 17 in many ways and I'd had to think of it that way to stay out of trouble.
"Did Ah spill something there at dinner without noticing it," Marie breaks the silence by asking.
"Huh?" I ask back, snapping my attention away from my thoughts and onto her face.
"Mah jeans, do Ah have something on them?"
Telling myself neither the Wolverine nor Logan would ever blush, I ignored the warmth on my cheeks that said I was doing just that, and realized I had stared a little too long at her legs.
"No, they're clean." I reply gruffly. "So, what are we talking about tonight?"
She laughs nervously at my change of topic. "Ah guess it would be best to get right to that."
She goes quiet again after saying that and I simply stare at her, waiting for more.
Her left hand begins tracing the stitching of the comforter beneath us and she bites her lower lip, clearly thinking hard about what she wants to say.
Those two movements tell me this is a very serious conversation we're about to have and make me nervous.
I spring into a sitting position and turn to stare at her intently.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she replies instantly sitting up beside me.
"Then say what you came here to say."
"Ah can't with you glaring at me like that!"
"I'm not glaring, Marie."
"Yes, you are. Ah know what your glares look like and that," she points a finger to my face, "is a glare."
Thinking she may be right, I try to change the expression, but find I can't.
I jump to my feet and turn on her, "Stop scaring me and just say it, I'll look the other way if my face bothers you."
"Your face does bother me, but Ah've never wanted you to look the other way," she whispers. "Ah always hate it when you look the other way."
The words stir something inside me, but I ignore it as I watch her gulp and look down at her hands.
"Bobby and Ah are over."
Thinking we've finally arrived at what she needed to get off her chest, I relax and move to comfort her. Later, I'd gut the Popsicle for breaking her heart.
"I'm sorry, darlin'" I say as I pull her head to my shoulder.
"Don't be," she pulls away and rises to pace to the door and then back to the foot of the bed.
"That's not what this is about, though."
I stare at her as she comes to a stop in front of me. "It isn't?"
"No." she bites her lip again.
"What is it about then?" I ask, tensing again.
"This," she says suddenly.
Before I know it, she's thrown herself against me, knocking us back to lie on the bed, and plants a hot, wet kiss on my lips. I respond automatically until I feel the pull of her mutation begin, bringing me back to reality.
"Whoa. What was that?" I ask, trying to move away.
She doesn't let me though. Her arms stay locked firmly around my neck and she looks deep into my eyes.
"Ah love you."
Doubting my keen sense of hearing, I shake my head and ask her what she said.
"Ah love you, Logan." A hand stroking my cheek accompanies the words.
The words sink in and I know she means them.
*Can I say them back and mean it, though?*
Suddenly my mind is whirling with thoughts and emotions.
The first moment I'd stared into her scared, beautiful young face in that bar in Laughlin City. The lust and hunger I'd felt then for her, but instantly repressed because her face was so young.
Those peaceful moments we'd had together in my beat-up old truck after leaving that bar. In those moments I had felt connected to her as I had no other in my life. The fact that we were both mutants had stirred so much in me. I'd buried all those emotions, but they came flooding back and I acknowledged the one thing I had felt strongest toward her.
Possession.
From those moments on, she had been mine, whether I wanted to acknowledge it or not.
My grief that night three years ago, in this very room, when I'd thought I'd killed her because of my nightmare had been the grieving of any animal who had lost it's mate. The next day, when she'd fled the school, I'd been consumed by another fear.
Fear that I had scared her away and lost her even though she had been able to heal herself with my mutation.
I remembered the love and loss I had felt at the Statue of Liberty when I held a limp Marie in my arms and her skin failed to respond to mine, telling me she was dead. I don't know what changed to make her mutation finally kick in, but even through the pain I'd felt as she drained nearly all my powers from me I had also felt the greatest kind of joy knowing she was alive.
Finally my thoughts flashed to the more recent past.
The moment I'd entered the front doors of this place last Friday and she'd been there, waiting to rush into my arms. It had felt so damn right to have her there.
Then there was the moment in my tent Saturday night when Mystique was trying to screw with my head to get in my bed. I'd spent so much time these past three years fantasizing about Jean and telling myself she was the one I wanted, but when Mystique had morphed into Marie and suddenly been pressing Marie's soft, tempting body against mine I'd known I'd been bull shitting myself.
It was Marie.
Then, now and always, Marie was the one I wanted.
The one I loved.
As I was coming to terms with that reality, the woman I was thinking of had gone tense in my arms and was trying to pull away from me. I'd been lost too long in my thoughts and now she thought I did not return her feelings.
Needing to change that fast, I cupped her cheek in my right hand, hugged her tightly to me with my left arm, and pressed my mouth to her forehead.
"I love you too, Marie." I say the words quietly, but with all the passion and emotion this woman invokes in me. "Always have, always will."
She pulls away suddenly, affected by my words and also worried that her mutation had begun drawing energy from my body.
"Do you mean it?"
"With all my heart." I answer my voice rough with emotion. "Do you?"
"Yes!" she practically screams as she buries her head against my chest and begins to sob.
"Hey," I begin lifting her face and wiping at her tears. "There's no need for that. This is a good thing, isn't it?"
"Oh, Logan, it's the best thing ever. That's why Ah'm cryin'. Ah've never been do happy in all my life." She says, the tears still flowing as she placed quick kisses against my hand.
Smiling at the contrariness of women, I slide my hand into her hair where it's safe and lean forward to kiss her lips.
It's a quick, gentle kiss that I want to make long and passionate, but we both exhale happily when it ends.
Her sigh becomes a yawn as I press her face against my chest again, reminding me what a long, emotional day she's had.
Rising, I lift her into my arm and pull back the covers on the bed. I sit her down on the edge long enough to remove her shoes then push her comforter.
"Logan?" she says anxiously when I turn away.
"Just getting the light, darlin," I assure her, rushing to flip the switch on the wall off, throwing the room in to darkness before joining her in bed.
"Wait …. we can't …. Ah could touch you in my sleep." She cries, scooting away from me.
"I'll live, baby. We have to get used to it 'cause I'm never gonna let you sleep without me again." I wrap my arms around her waist and pull our bodies together, turning her so her back is to my chest.
"Do you mean it?" she asks, turning her head to look into my eyes.
"I mean it, Marie. I love you and you love me, we're not going to waste any more time apart." I kiss her again and she smiles.
"Make sure we thank Scott in the morning." She says smothering another yawn.
"What for?" I ask as she snuggles back against me, preparing to sleep.
"He told me to do this. He told me that if Ah loved you, Ah had to tell you and not waste any more time with us apart."
Silently thanking the man already, I assure her will both give him our thanks first thing in the morning and she falls asleep soon afterward.
I stay awake a little longer, staring at her pale features in the darkness.
This is like a dream come true, but I had never allowed myself this dream.
Maybe it was another miracle.
Maybe the fates had decided I'd known enough bad in my undoubtedly long life and given me this to make up for it.
I chuckle a little at my train of thoughts, realizing what a chick I sound like.
Marie shifted at the noise and I bury my face in her hair, kissing the back of her head to let her know there's nothing wrong.
Not wanting to disturb her again and feeling tired myself, I stopped thinking and fell into the deepest sleep I'd ever known.
~*~
Contrary to what I'd said that night, thanking Scott was not the first thing we did in the morning.
It wasn't even in the top five.
Upon waking to find we'd made it safely through the night, without any deadly accidental touches, we had found a few more things to keep us in bed that didn't involve sleeping.
When we eventually left the bed, I was greeted by the unusual sight of an axe and chainsaw in my room, which served as a reminder that I still had a mess to clean up from yesterday. Marie followed me outside to watch me finish the chore rather than going to her room to clean up and change. Finished sawing up the tree trunk and piling the debris off to the side to be dealt with later, we went to turn my tools to the shed.
There, she informed me that she had chosen to come watch me work because she would never miss an opportunity that presented itself to watch me work up a sweat. Those playful words got her a kiss that soon had us making out in the tool shed.
We were both rather sweaty when we re-entered the school and reluctantly parted to go to our separate rooms to clean up.
Only after I had showered and wrapped a towel around my waist did I remember my discovery last night that I no longer had any remotely clean clothes to put back on. Even knowing it would be another mark against me in Chuck's good graces after the tree thing, I had seriously debated finding the laundry room and washing my clothes while wearing nothing but the towel. The fact that this was a boarding school with kids around 24/7 and it was broad daylight, making it very likely I'd come across a few runts, is what stopped such thoughts. Or more accurately, I still painfully remembered how loudly some of these kids could scream and was not about to risk having my eardrums burst again should the sight of my in nothing but a towel scare a child.
I wasted the hour waiting for Marie to get her butt back here channel surfing on the 20" tv in my room. I learned that late Saturday morning television programming was geared very strongly toward children and not bored, impatient men. Even the shopping networks had touted items for kids.
A simple, but elegant pine crib on one such channel caught my attention and shifted the focus of my thoughts. Suddenly it wasn't "kids" in general that I was thinking of, it was possible Marie and me kids.
*Could we ever ...? Would we ever want to?*
I was pacing from those thoughts when she finally came back. I forgot what I was thinking and that I had been pretty ticked at her for taking so long when her arrival had made me realize the reason for the delay. She had taken the time to gather a number of her possessions to move them into my room.
Knowing what that simple gesture meant, I'd been on her the second she straightened from setting the box and bag she had put the items into down on the floor.
The hour that followed was anything but wasted.
Once we'd finished playing, Marie went off to wash my clothes for me and I had been left channel surfing again.
Another hour passed before I was able to dress in a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, both of which were still warm from the dryer.
Our growling stomachs demanded we go see if we could find any leftovers from lunch and we had raided the fridge.
It was mid-afternoon when we finally walked hand-in-hand into the medlab to thank Scooter.
Oops, it was Scott now, I smiled at the thought.
I was surprised to see him eating when we got there.
"She wake up?" I ask, pulling away from Marie to move forward.
"Not yet, but I can tell she's getting closer to it." Scott says, pushing away from his hoagie to join us near Jean's bed.
Nodding, I simply stare at the woman lying there in front of us.
I'd never been in this situation before, hovering nervously over someone I cared for. Seeing them in pain and unable to help.
I fucking hated that inability.
As I had many times since we found Jean, I wished I had the ability to heal others as well as myself. Or that she had a power like Marie's to take in my regenerative abilities as her own for a short time.
Neither wish was granted, so we all had to wait and watch as her own body slowly healed itself.
Marie slips her glove-covered hand in mine and presses closer to my side, drawing my attention to her.
I smile at her distraction and wrap an arm around her waist before turning to Scott. "Marie tells me we owe you some thanks."
The man looks at us, taking in our closeness and the smiles on our faces. A smile touches his own lips as the sight pleases him.
"There's nothing to thank me for."
"Ah disagree, Scott. Ah never would have had the courage to talk to Logan without you." Marie moves from my side to embrace the other man and actually kiss him quickly on the cheek. "Thank you."
He didn't jerk away from the touch of her deadly skin and he returned the hug easily.
Feeling that had gone on long enough I pull Marie back to stand in front of me, wrapping both my arms around her waist from behind.
"I want you to be the first to know that we're going to be married," I tell Scott, drawing a squeal from my intended wife.
She turns to face me, shock written all over her face, and squeaks "What?"
I look past her to smile and wink at Scott, "See, told ya you'd be the first."
The other man throws his head back and laughs, making Marie glare in his direction.
"Ah don't recall being asked, sugah." She turns on me.
"I suppose I must make amends for that?" I ask her.
She continues to glare and I laugh while reaching out to shake Scott's hand.
Thinking of many possible ways to make my amends, pop the question properly and get rid of that glare, I quickly drag her from the room.
The other man continued to chuckle as he watched us leave, missing the slight movements on the bed behind him.