He slipped into the room after midnight. The door made a slight squeak as he closed it, and he froze. No one moved.

He let his eyes adjust to the minimal light in the room. He cocked his head. The elf was cuddled around Mystique.

He sighed and sat down hard in a chair. He put a hand over his eyes and heard a whisper. "Why are you here, mein freund?"

Without looking up, Logan replied, "I got my reasons, elf. Why are you here?"

Kurt's eyes gleamed as he looked toward his friend and disentangled himself from his mother. "We had a talk about what her ranting during her fever meant."

Logan reached for a cigar but did not light it, turning it over and over in his hand. He finally grunted, "Well, go on."

"You are interested in knowing more?" Kurt prodded, leaping off the bed.

Logan stuck the unlit cigar in his pocket. "Let's just say I'm willing to let you tell me about it."

Kurt raised an invisible eyebrow, then took a chair near him. "Is it that hard to admit you're curious?"

He closed his eyes and slowly breathed out. "Maybe."

Kurt got comfortable. "There is such a thing as being too quiet, you know." Logan did not give any noticeable reaction. Kurt continued. "She was abandoned by my father when she had me, and that's why the mob nearly killed us. She was begging him to stay and defend us."

Logan was a statue in the dark.

"You left, I think, before she addressed me as Margali and begged me to let her see her son. My dear foster mother apparently sensed her coming to see me when I was only ten, and told her to go away."

Not a sound, not a movement. He might as well have been cast in stone. "Are you listening at all?"

"I got ears." Logan shifted a little. "Anything else?"

"Ach, you are frustrating." Kurt threw his hands into the air. "How can you just sit there?"

"Years of practice, elf. Years of practice." Logan sat and grinned at him as he growled.

"I am going to bed. What are you going to do?" Kurt paused at the door.

"I'll be along soon." Logan remained in his chair, his position essentially unchanged.

Kurt left, sighing, and Logan stayed still for a minute or two, listening, all senses alert. Nothing. He was finally alone with Mystique.

He took a bandanna from his pocket and wiped the tear from his cheek then, folding it a few times and stuffing it back into his pocket. He then walked over to the bed and stood there for a minute or two, looking down. He then knelt and put his mouth an inch from her right ear.

He whispered so quietly that only he and Mystique, were she awake, could hear what he had to say. "I know you've always been my enemy. I don't trust you. I don't know if I ever will. But I heard your pain, and I know it was real. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry that it happened." He waited for a moment, listening to her steady, raspy breathing. "Also, Mystique, I don't hate you any more."

He got up then and moved to the door. He put a hand on it and paused. He said in a normal voice then, "Oh, and you can pretend you were sleeping in the morning, but I know you're awake and heard every word I said." She started, and he chuckled as he left the room.