Agent-G: glad you liked it. I used to write like that all the time, but my friends started to freak out, seeing as I was... what... 14 or something? So I got the whole: that's bad, don't do that, you're weird, we don't wanna be your friend anymore, all that junk. I'm currently working on an original story of my own with that kinda writing. And my current friends are all like: 'you should get that published' and stuff.

A/N: title come from a song belonging to the Goo Goo Dolls, called Name. The correct sentence would be: scars are souvenires you never lose.

A/N: the last part is written especially for Damn-My-Name-Was-Taken

Fighting Destiny - Souvenires you never lose

Now he looked back on it, Michael didn't really know what happened. On minute he saw Marianne being swallowed up into that vortex, the next he was somewhere where he couldn't breathe and after that he saw Marianne, who looked like she had been through hell, being examined by Hank. He was being helped up by Remy and Sarah was out cold, Tank was holding her.

Michael remembered pushing Remy away and rushing towards Marianne. There was so much blood, all over her, he remembered seeing Hank work frantically to atleast try and stop some of the bleeding. Her arms looked like a mess, but her face, that had been what scared him. Even though it was bloodstained, it was untouched, but he could see in how much pain she was, had been.

It had seemed like an eternity untill Hank had said that it was save to move her. From then on, everything had gone into a frenzy, an organised frenzy, but still, a frenzy.

Right now, Tank was all that kept Michael from breaking down the door, seeing as he was in front of the door and Hank was operating on Marianne, trying to undo some of the damage she had been through. Sarah had gone to call Underground that they had dealt with anything and the others had been threatened by Sarah and Logan to stay away from the corridor.

Ben wasn't sure what to do, Sarah and Tank were in charge when neither Michael nor Marianne could, but he didn't know where that left him. He was worried, for both Marianne and Michael. If they lost Marianne, he was sure that they would lose Michael. Seeing Michael like this scared him, he was used to Michael being strong, levelheaded. Finally, he opted for raiding the bar. Yeah, that was probably the best thing he could do.

Meanwhile, Michael kept replaying the conversation he had had with Marianne the night before, in his head, there was something off. She was too sure something would happen, it was almost as if... as if she knew! Yes, that could be the only explanation: she knew something was going to happen! He cursed silently at that: how could he have missed that?!

It took so long before Hank came out of the operating room, when he saw Michael sit, he smiled encouragingly at him.

"How is she?! She's fine, right? She has to be!" Michael nearly attacked him, he wanted to know how she was so badly.

"I'm confident that she'll make a full recovery. She has lost a lot of blood and had some internal injuries (A/N: sorry, I'm not a doctor), I stitched up most of the larger wounds and she is currently in the hospital, but she's still..." Hank stopped when he saw that Michael was already gone.

"She's the One for him," Tank explained to Hank, "if he'd lose her... man... I don't even wanna think 'bout what would happen to him. They're lucky, though, they know they love eachother. Piece of advice, blue, don't even suggest to Michael that he should leave the room. As long as she's out cold, you won't stand a chance. When she's up, she'll kick him out of the room sooner or later."

- In the hospitalroom -

Michael winced when he saw the bandages Marianne seemed to be covered in. She was hooked to some machines, he didn't really know what they did, she would know. And she would tell him to stop worrying, that it wasn't good for his bloodpressure or something.

She would have some new scars, especially on her arms. He had seen the wounds, and he knew thoses were messy enough to leave scars, not big scars, but still: scars. Reminders of her pain.

"You just get better, Anne," he softly told her while taking the chair she always sat in when she was helping patients deal with their experiences.

- Next day -

Marianne had been drifting in and out of conciousness the entire night, but now, she seemed completely awake and she had threatened Hank that she would put the painkillers up where the sun don't shine. She hated painkillers, and Hank now knew exactly how much she hated them.

"You know, guys, for being a doc, I wake up here far too often," Marianne pouted at her visitors, crossing her arms. Hank had already caught her twice trying to sneak out. Luckily she was still a bit wobbly on her feet and he got her easily back into bed. It was true: doctors make the worst patients.

Luckily, now that she was having visitors, she couldn't sneak of and Hank could relax for a little while. Most of the X-Men had returned to the Institute earlier that day, Remy had left too. Rogue, Kurt and Jean had decided to stay and help get the safehouse back up.

"That's cause ya get into all too much trouble for a doc, doc," Tank grinned at her.

"Guess so, hey, did Michael tell you all we'll be taking a loooong vacation? He's getting you guys a replacement doctor, I heard something about a certain 'Luka'," she looked at Ben, who turned a bright red: when he had just became part of Underground, it was well known he had had a thing for the human woman. Marianne knew Luka from her recovery days as Anne. Luka's brother had been a mutant. Had been. He was killed by some group of mutant haters.

"I believe it is time for Marianne to get some rest, if you would all be so kind as to leave," Hank spoke up as he saw that Marianne had gotten a little paler again and that she was tensing up in her bed to fight off the pain. The others noticed it now too, and quietly left.

"Hank, if you even get that needle close to my arms I'll personally shove it up where the sun don't shine," Marianne threatened him.

"I don't understand why you don't want the painkillers," he sighed as he lowered the injection he had been preparing for her.

"I don't like being sedated, Hank, I don't like not being able to give things my full attention. I'm going to sleep now," Marianne smiled tiredly at the blue doctor and curled up in the bed. She felt the bandages on her arms. She would have more scars, great. The scars from the lab going boom on her were hardly noticable, it would take some time for the new ones to fade to that. They were eternal reminders of that she had fought to save and what it had cost her.

- Next day, evening - (this part is for D-M-N-W-T)

"Good luck, Michael," Hank smiled at the nervous looking man in front of him and left the corridor.

Michael took one deep breath before stepping into the hospitalroom where Marianne was still recovering. She hadn't told him what had happened to her, but he could see in her eyes that something had happened and that it had hurt her, a lot. And not just physically. He could see it in the shadow that flies over her face when they talked about the whole mess.

"Michael? How did you... Hank will be mad with you when he finds out you snuck in," Marianne looked at him in surprise.

"I made a little deal," Michael smiled while sitting down next to her, "you scared me real bad, Anne, real bad. I thought I'd lost you."

"I know, I felt your pain, right here," she pointed at her chest, "I can't talk about what happened in the vortex, Michael, not yet. It hurts just to think about it."

"And I'm not asking you to talk about it, I just want you to know that I'm here for you. I came damn close to losing you two days ago, and I don't ever wanna get that close again."

He closed his mouth and just looked at her, with a soft smile, reserved just for her, he brushed his hand down her left cheek.

"And I've been thinking, for a while now, actually. I love you, Anne, more then anything. We've been living together for a good time now and you've put up with a lot from me and you kick my butt everytime I need it. I love you, Anne, and I wanna marry you, if you'll have me," he looked at her, waiting for her response.

He saw her eyes widen, her hand came over his and squeezed: "What makes you think I won't have you, Michael? Ofcourse I wanna marry you."

"I'm glad, Anne, I don't think I can ever tell you how glad I am," Michael silently whispered.

"I know, I can feel it, right here," Marianne once again pointed at her chest and smiled: she had faced destiny, fought it and had survived. Perhaps it hadn't been her destiny to die, perhaps the one who was supposed to die was the one she had been part of. But still: she had fought destiny, and now that she looked at Michael, she couldn't help but feel like she had won.

.

The end

And yes, there is gonna be a sequel (or should it be triquel?), I am already working on it.