Thanks for your reviews, especially Triciaxy for making my day with those four lines. To all those who put this story on alert or fav'd this - I appreciate this a lot, guys! Thank you all. Here's Logan's point of view. I've tried to really get into his mind and explain what everything has been about. Please tell me what you think of it. I am bad with the way the guys think. Tell me if I really did hit it on spot.

Oh, and who all of you are on wattpad? I'll be posting my work there too. Not only fanfiction, but fiction too. I just joined though.

Chapter Nine

So be it

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Logan's POV

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Yes, I am brute and heartless and cruel and evil and just plain bad. I have done lot things in life that I shouldn't have. I still don't regret the day I gave ride to Marie, because well, that incident brought me closer to the girl. Too close in fact, that I didn't know what to do any further, what to think anymore except where the hell she was.

Marie had a tendency to attract mutants, anyone could see. First time out, she caught me. Next time, she got hold of that Cajun boy. I didn't want to know where she was now, given that last time I caught her bar-tendering in a shithole of a bar, all the bloody guys staring at her and so, I had a feeling that I'd get really angry all over again when I'd finally know where she was now.

And that was the thing. Seeing her close to any guy made my blood boil – whether it was that Popsicle boy, Bobby or that Cajun charmer, Remy – I just couldn't imagine Marie in the arms of any other guy. It was frustrating. Yes, I was jealous.

In this whole wide world, I had never felt jealous of someone. Yet, being with Marie made me feel that too. I never saw Scott as a competition to me. I never ever felt jealous of him. Because in some part of my brain, I knew Jean liked me. But I guess Marie was bringing my emotions out more than I ever thought. It just wasn't safe. Because the wild is better left wild. And people like me were better left alone.

Yes, people like me. I wasn't cut for this love shit. I still don't know how to respond to these feelings. Because well, I don't know love. From the moment I opened my eyes with no knowledge of my past, present or future, I had seen love around me, but I had never felt it. And here I am, talking about it, feeling it, experiencing it.

People like me were used to one night stands. People like me didn't get attached to anything or anyone. People like me left before the real thing started. Because we didn't want to be held down, bound or made to loose our freedom.

In past, I have seen the consequences of what I had done, yet today was the day I finally felt like punishing myself. A while ago, I was immune to the world, because I felt I had faced the worse and knew that life couldn't get any shittier than what I already had seen. I have been all this for so many years and much much more.

And yet, today was the day to realize it all. When I had lost everything. When I had lost every freaking thing in my life.

I didn't have a home or family or anything really except the clothes on my back. I didn't have friends, alliances, love. Anything at all.

Because I threw away all that I had. And today, I am alone with nothing to do, nowhere to be, no direction in life, what-so-ever.

I have never felt this protective towards anyone. I have never felt this jealous towards anyone. I have missed somebody so much. The way I was irritated with Scott over Jean was just a fraction of what I felt for that Popsicle or that Cajun. Because they had been closer to Marie than I was. Than I ever allowed myself. Than I ever allowed her.

And it wasn't because I didn't love her. It was because I knew I wasn't good for her. I was divided over everything, realizing the whole thing and still in denial. I loved her and yet I couldn't confront her with my feelings. Because I knew, what I was. And what I was, wasn't what Marie could have taken.

Marie was everything that symbolized good. At heart, she was genuine and pure. I, on the other hand, was everything that was corrupt. I am everything that's corrupt. She doesn't know things about me. I don't know things about myself. How a person so messed up like me could be made for something so simple and good as her?

And so, for her own good, I never really accepted anything until she said it right in front of my face. And those tears. God, I had never felt so wrecked in my life as the salty smell of those tears did to me. I almost ran to her and kissed her tears away. And yet, even the thought of kissing her made me rebuke myself.

Did you ever get a feeling to take something for yourself but knew it was wrong? Like you knew that not only was it wrong for all world to know, it was wrong to even think, it was wrong to even speak of and yet you couldn't stop thinking about that thing or making yourself believe that you didn't really want it?

Like a candy when you have severe case of diabetes?

That candy in my life is Marie. I felt everything towards her, yet I had to pretend, act like it was nothing, like I was immune to how she smiled, or laughed or, lent me a hand. It was disheartening and yet, I couldn't do anything else. Because I knew that even to think about something like kissing Marie, or holding her in my arms or touching her, was wrong –- something that I shouldn't even put myself to reflect upon, least of all put into action or… or feel.

Because yes, and I hate to say it, she is a kid. She needs protection from people like me. She doesn't need to be put into their company. I felt protective about her. And all those days with Jean gone and only her to tell me that all would be good again, that Sun would definitely shine again, it was even harder not to think of the feel of those arms around me in a non-platonic way.

Everyday, I reprimanded myself, told myself that it was wrong, it was dreadful to think about Marie that way. And yet, I couldn't stop.

And then, there was the fact that I had killed Jean in the most lethal and emotionally-blackmailing way possible. I couldn't help but feel disgusted with myself. I had induced a false sense of trust in her, only to dig my claws into her flesh and bone and kill her, stop her from breathing anymore. And then, to wake up everyday to the feeling of happiness that I'd see Marie again that day, felt like cheating on Jean. I felt appalled that I killed Jean, only to wake up to a yearning of having my arms around Marie the next day.

And so, because I needed a little rest from feeling divided and conflicted, like I was sinning each time I looked at Marie and thought of touching her, kissing her or holding her, I left Marie alone. I could feel Marie inclining towards me. Even though I knew that that the Popsicle was no good for her, I could see myself a reason of her break-up with her back then. She spent more time with me than with anybody else in the Mansion and I had heard some of the rumors. I didn't want to defame or discredit Marie. I needed her to give life one heck of chance without me. To have a life without me interfering in it every time. And if she had had a decent guy when I got back, then I'd have ridden myself of the insane desire to make Marie look at me the same way she looked at the Iceman.

Only, after spending about two years on doing whatever the heck I wanted –going back to Canada, visiting old places from my memory, drowning myself in beer – when I thought I had finally overcome my feelings for Marie, I came back. I knew I had done justice to Jean as well. I thought that maybe I had given Marie enough time to live life her own way. That I'd find a Marie who would have someone else in her life besides me now. I knew it was what was best for her and despite that little hint of sadness of finally losing her, I went back to the Mansion only to find no Marie there.

Worry for Marie blinded everything else for Marie. She had almost killed a kid back at the Mansion. But I knew it wasn't her fault. Marie couldn't even have dreamt of hitting a kid, putting him intentionally into a coma was a long way away. I knew it would only have hurt her, made her curse herself, blame herself.

And I knew there was one person in the Mansion, who might know about the whereabouts of Marie and I exploded in on Professor Xavier's room, demanding where Marie was. When he gave me the message she had left me, I couldn't fathom why Marie was so angry with me. I mean, I gave her time and space to live life… what had I done wrong?

So, I forced Professor Xavier into seeing things my way, telling him that I cared for her and wanted to find her, bring her back for her own good. For a full week, I had no idea where Marie was. Even more dreadful was the fact that I had thought she was safe at the Mansion, when she wasn't even there in the first place. In that week alone, I had thought of a hundred different scenes that Marie could be in. No matter the time or the place, I just couldn't get the fact out of my head that Marie was missing and she always ended up at wrong places at wrong times. Only after repeated persistence of a week, did Professor told me to go and seek Marie's friend Jubilee.

Through Jubilee, I finally tracked Marie's vague address, taking Scott's bike to reach her faster. Even though I didn't have the exact location of where Marie could be, I randomly looked in streets until I finally arrived at the bar where Marie and I had first met. When I went back to the place, remembering how we had met, I was flabbergasted to see her working there.

Even the sight of her made me forget everything else. It made me forget my resolution, my attempts. For a second, I just looked at her, seeing her smile, watching the twinkle in her eye and feeling her scent over–powering me. Oh Lord, her scent. It was like aphrodisiac, pulling me, inviting me in. It was something sweet, like sugar, with a hint of wine, which was probably from all the alcohol she was serving those leering customers.

And that got me out of my trace. When I saw the population of the place, people of all sorts, eyeing her up and down, grabbing her hand, passing comments… I had to fight against the itching on my knuckles, signaling the claws. Growling, I came closer, her scent driving me insane with need.

I hadn't slept with a woman since Jean and a Marie in skirt only turned me on, thinking of all the ways I could think of to pull that skirt off her, to hold her, to feel her, to kiss those lips, the feeling of being–

I shook my head again. Even the thought of her…

I knew when I drank beer at that bar, I was drinking up my resolve and loosing sight of everythin' I had planned for us both. For a moment out there, I forgot that Marie was best left without me – and all because of seeing her first time in so long.

Those drinkers staring at her and that Cajun who kept lookin' and noddin' over at her only boiled my blood. I cold see him in my place, lookin' out for Marie. Only, I didn't want anybody to take my bloody place in my Marie's life. That and the fact that Marie still looked same as ever, got me all provoked into almost threatening the Cajun with my claws, which was pretty low even for a man like me. The sting of claws breaking through finally reminded me my resolve and quickly, I hid the claws, which thankfully, nobody in their drunk state had noticed. And so, controlling myself and warning her against running away, I left her with a promise of meeting her again, getting her rid of her stinkin' job and taking her back to the Mansion that night itself.

Back outside into fresh air, while keeping an eye on the bar, I realized what I had done. I had lost up two whole years of hard-work because of a single sight of her. I felt jealous and protective her all over again, something which I thought I had gotten over.

And I was jealous because of the people who mattered to her. I realized what she was angry of. She was angry because I left her alone, that I was no longer anything to her. Those words alone made my heart stop, made me want to draw her in my arms and tell her that I couldn't part ways with her, whatever happened. And what was worse was the fact that I knew I couldn't be to her, anymore, what those people were to her. She had lost her trust on me.

Yes, I cared for her. I cared immensely for Marie. And that's why I still couldn't get over the fact that I hit her. I don't even know how or why that happened. I mean, sure I couldn't just get over my guilt for Jean. The fact that I had killed her while expressing my love for her was something I just couldn't get over. I couldn't get over the blame that I had to be the one who killed her, I cannot get over the fact that she would have been living if it weren't for my breach of trust.

How easy it would have been if someone else would have done the deed. I know it was important that the Phoenix be killed, but why did it have to be me?

If it would have been somebody else, I would have had somebody else to blame, to yell at and to hate. But hating yourself was too difficult.

And yet, Marie made me hate myself that I had hit her. God, still didn't know how I hit her. It was as if the whole thing just happened without me knowing. Or maybe it was the drinking I had taken to lately – because in no way, in my right mind, could I have hit my Marie. It was as if there was a lapse in my memory when I hit her.

I had gotten over Jean a long while ago. I hated to admit it because that made me feel like a immoral person all over again. I couldn't even admit that to Marie. I knew I was bad with feelings and expressing and saying all that, explaining that to anyone – it just wasn't me.

There are people who come into your life, people whom you love, people you lose but can't get over. Jean was one of those peoples for me. I fell for her the time I saw her, even before I knew she was Scott's girlfriend. But I had feelings for Marie too. Just, the fact that Jean was more age appropriate and more difficult to get, made the chase so much better.

You know what they say about temporary attractions? I wouldn't call Jean a temporary attraction because she was never that. But I'd call Marie a permanent one. I tried overlooking Marie and focusing on someone much more suitable for me. And I did fall in love with Jean too. And I still loved Jean. I had high affections for her, I respected her. I blamed myself for killing her because I felt like I had tricked her.

But Marie was always there, with or without Jean holding my attention. I still couldn't get when I fell for her. And so even though I loved Jean, even though I could never get over that love, I loved Marie too.

Complicated, I know. But it's the truth.

And so, even though I knew I was intensely soft on Jean's subject and that I couldn't hear anything bad about her, yet to hit Marie over Jean was something I just couldn't imagine. I just didn't know what I was thinking.

Yes, I rightly deserved that kick by Mystique. I still couldn't get it why she had formed such an attachment with Marie but I was grateful for that kick. I deserved an even greater punishment than just that.

I mean, hitting a girl was never me. I always thought that the chivalry stuff was a bogus (yes, I was never a charmer) nonetheless even I never thought that I could hit a girl. Especially, a girl like Marie – a girl, who really had done so much for me, the girl I had such intense feelings for?

I sighed. I had made so much mistakes in my life that I doubted Marie would even take me now. Not only had I hit her, loosing my respect, I had left her drunk in a bar, loosing her trust completely. That was something I really was sorry for too. She was drunk and anything could have happened to her. Yet, the sight of Jean there, made me forget all direction, all reason. That was something else I was guilty of and couldn't place anywhere logically. I mean, how could I have left Marie unattended just to run after Jean?

Everything was so messed up right now, I didn't know what to do. Just that one mistake landed Marie into hospital. I didn't know how to pay back for that. Because it was something I just couldn't pay-back.

While Marie was coma for three months, I questioned my love for her each freaking day, blamed myself for her condition and hated myself even more. If I really loved her, would I have left her all alone? All reason and logic shouted 'no' to me. I was ready to compensate for it all in any way possible. I wanted someone to knock me down flat too. Bloody mutation, I'd still be as good as new in a coupe hours at most, while… Marie had to suffer three months of nothingness – all because of my stupid lapse in judgment.

So, I decided that maybe I never loved Marie. Maybe I just didn't know what love was. That every time, I thought I loved someone, I messed their lives up. Every time, I was close to someone, I harmed them terribly.

Yet, Mystique felt the clear opposite. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know where to go. Everything had stopped working for me. I loved her, yet I didn't act like I love her. She wanted me to be with her, I wanted to be with her, but if we were together, Marie got hurt. Every freaking time.

I knew I wasn't the dream-guy any woman would want and I couldn't even face that cheesy romantic stuff. I just wasn't that sort of a guy. And Marie was everything opposite of me. Yet, I couldn't distance myself from even thinking about her. We could be together but was I worth her love?

Was finding Marie even the right thing to do? Because really what Mystique said was true. Marie wanted a lover, not an overprotected asshole like me. And I wanted Marie but I was all wrong for her.

With her not aging now, there was a whole wide world for us. I could tell her what I really felt for her. But then again, was age always the factor hindering me from telling her?

The reason was simple.

I was a brute man and Marie, sweet and innocent, still pure. And I couldn't think of myself as the man who tarnished something so good in life. How could two people such as us fall for each other?

Then, there was her mutation. I didn't care a bit about it. I was ready to wait an eternity for her, if only it meant that we could be together in any way possible. If it meant that Marie would only look at me as her soul–mate and I'd only seek her in sorrow and happiness, in hard and happy times, dead or alive. But us being together – was it the right thing? Was I even worth all the love Marie could give me if I still couldn't save her when she needed me the most?

God, I didn't know.

For a second, I pictured Marie's face, seeing all the horrible scenes I had pictured her in, in a sort of flashback. She could be in danger and I knew this. So, I took out my phone and did the first thing I could think of doing.

It had taken me so much time to admit, but now I was ready. If this could give me just one chance with her, just one moment to tell her what she really meant to me, so be it. If it could mean that I could envision us together in future, I didn't care about anything else.

I picked up my phone. Mystique had given me her number during Marie's illness, to contact her in case of an emergency.

"Logan," Mystique's crisp voice called out to me.

"I love her," I answered without any preambles.

"Meet me on that sorry excuse for a bar down the road from the hospital," she said, disconnecting the phone.

I gulped and got up. I had to find my Marie and tell her what I kept inside me all this while.

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By the way, what do you think Mystique has up her sleeve? Will Logan be able to find Rogue? What will be Rogue's reaction? Tell me and I'd be happy to answer and correct you. Or maybe praise you at your genius answers of telling me exactly what I was thinking of doing ahead.

Ask away your questions! I had so many questions the last time I posted this (although half-way, but still). Tell me what you keep thinking about in regard to this story.