Mutual Hatred

The smoky silhouette lifted it's head. Catherine watched. She blinked, trying to keep the smoke from her eyes. It did no good, and her eyes began to water.

Logan took a long drag from his cigar, before speaking.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, rudely. Even as he spoke Catherine could smell the beer on his breath. It disgusted her, made her wish that she could stop him. She knew that his body would heal, but it just didn't seem worth dirtying it in this way.

"I said, what are you doing here?" he asked again. Louder this time. Her silence made him uneasy, like she was judging him. He waited for her to answer, glaring at her through the haze.

"I couldn't sleep," she said eventually. A lame excuse, but it was true. "Why are you up?" she asked.

"Same reason I'm up every night - can't sleep so I get pissed,"

She approached the table, sitting down at it. He was in front of her. The stench of cheap beer was stronger now. It swirled up into her nostrils, violating them and making her choke.

Logan seemed to realise that she wasn't going to leave. He reached behind him for a can of beer, chucking it at her. She thanked her quick reflexes and caught it. She cracked the lid open and took a gulp. She drew away, coughing. It was strong.

"Can't handle it?" he asked, she couldn't see him but she could hear his smirk. She narrowed her eyes, knocking her head back and taking another drink. It was disgusting, she didn't know why she was doing it. She really needed Scott. She needed somebody to be there for her, tell her that no matter what she did they'd be there. Somebody who didn't care that she was bad.

She downed the last drop and chucked the can behind her, reaching for a second.

"Easy, tiger," Logan said, despite his amusement at this, there was a tone of cautiousness in his voice.

"It's Lioness," she replied, finishing the can in one go this time. She chucked it over her shoulder, to join the other. She reached for a new can, but Logan grabbed her wrists.

"That's enough," he said, so serious that it scared her for a moment. She struggled against his grip, but he had raised her arms above her head. She was weak from the alcohol anyway.

The smoke was starting to clear, and as she studied Logan's face she got the feeling that he…cared?

"Let go of me," she said. She had the strength to twist his arms into pretzels, but she couldn't muster her powers right now.

"I shouldn't have given you a drink. We all know how badly you're taking Scott's…" and here he thought for a moment. Because he knew, he knew what had happened, a slip of the hand and… "absence," yes, safe "But that isn't a reason for you to become as screwed up as me,"

At this she twisted away, out of his grip. Her eyes flashed murder.

"Fuck you!" she cried. Logan watched her in horror. He was surprised that nobody had woken up.

"How do you know that word?" he asked, genuinely confused. However, this only fed her aggravation.

"I've known that word since I was 10! And how can you think that this is all down to Scott? You're such an idiot!" she cried.

He stood across from her, and suddenly he realised that this Senator's daughter had bad memories that rivalled his own.

"What did they do to you?" he asked after a while, his voice was quiet. Although he hadn't specified, they both knew what he was talking about. Weapon X. It had been shut down, no more Wraith. But the scars would always remain.

Silence. Perhaps it was painful, he could understand. He looked at her, catching her eye. She looked away, ashamed.

"Apart from the ageing? And the extra body parts?" she asked him eventually. Losing two years of your natural life was something that no teenager dreamed to have. Claws, cat ears and a tail were almost as bad.

Logan nodded, smiling inwardly for some reason that he couldn't quite fathom. But he sensed her depression and tried to think of the worse case - but no, surely Wraith wasn't that bad, was he? But now doubt invaded Logan's mind as he realised what it was.

Perhaps the reason that he even understood what she said when she opened her mouth and whispered those three words was because in his heart he already knew.

"He raped me."

Logan didn't know what to do, but some instinct told him to hug her. She collapsed slightly, depending on him to hold her up. He held her and together they slowly sunk to the floor, backs leaning against the wall. It wasn't like hugging Piotr, that had felt…odd. Hugging Logan was comforting, and although it wasn't quite Scott - it would do for now.

She didn't care about the overpowering stench of beer and cigars any more, didn't even question Logan as to why his clothes stank of Jean. Just sat there in his embrace. Safe. Logan accepted her. He didn't think any less of her for what had happened.

Now that she had got that first sentence out though, she couldn't help but continue. All this time she had never told a soul. The telepaths couldn't read her mind because of her animal-like thoughts, which swirled around in no particular order. And suddenly, it all came rushing out, quickly. Logan struggled to keep up with her.

"I should have fought him, I know I should have. I tried to, at first. But then he threatened me. He said that if I didn't let him then - then he'd kill Scott. He never liked Scott, any excuse I guess.

"It happened right after they aged me. They separated me from Alex and took me off to this room. I don't know how long it was that they kept me there…it seemed like forever," she paused. Logan looked at her, expectantly.

She shook her head in disbelief. Looking back, it all seemed so surreal.

"It was so fucked up," she said "He just came in and demanded it. He had a wife and kids," she said, turning to Logan with a confused smile "And he was willing to give it up for a dumb little mutie."

"He was like that, he didn't ever really care about anyone, just himself," Logan said, his voice somewhat understanding. Well, if anyone did - it was him. They sat in a comfortable silence.

"I think he was trying to heal that scar," Catherine said suddenly. Logan looked at her, curiously. "The scar you gave him. He must have read the test results to see what he could use me for, and then he found out about the whole being-able-to-heal-other-people thing. I guess he forgot to read the part about me controlling it,"

Logan smiled. He became aware of his claws, sticking under his skin, lengths of adamantium-covered bone.

"You got the claws too, now," he said, reaching for her hand. She slowly released her own. In comparison with Logan's, they seemed weak. Perhaps this was a good thing, it gave her the element of surprise for when she ripped her enemy's face off.

She looked up at him. For the first time in a long while she was tired. Overwhelmingly tired. She still felt depressed, yet something about Logan's strength seemed to calm her. She rested her head gently on his shoulder, and closed her eyes to sleep.

He adjusted his arms to support her, hugging her. He gently stroked her hair, calming her into sleep.

Logan looked at the cat-girl who rested in his arms. For a brief moment he wondered - what if he had been wasting his time with Jean?