Therapy. Right. Logan snorted disgustedly, taking in his surroundings. Vast expanse of snow surrounded a small log cabin. Secluded spot in the wilderness, in the middle of nothing. Well, could have been worse. At least Xavier realized conventional methods wouldn’t purge demons from his mind.
“Okay. I’ll come to get you next week…” He could hear Summers shuffling through the snow behind him and turned to look. Man was leaving, walking towards the Blackbird.
“Wait!” Summers turned to look, sun gleaming from his ruby visor.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Logan asked. Summers smirked.
“I’m sure you’re old enough to take care of that by yourself…” He said smirking, waved his hand and disappeared to the jet. Door closed with a silent hiss.
“Shit…”

He adjusted the backpack on his left shoulder and pocketed the stub of the cigar he had been chewing nervously. He hated shrinks. Hated them with gut twisting passion. And now he was supposed to spend a week cooped up to that tiny cabin with one.

He knocked on the door, not really expecting an answer, but to alert the occupant about his presence before opening it. No reason to scare the guy shitless. There was plenty of time for that later. Sight that greeted him when he opened the door made him tilt his head and take a step backwards. Summers must have dropped him to the wrong cabin.

Instead of old, bearded man with a pipe hanging from the corner of his mouth he saw young woman, standing in front of a stove and stirring a steaming kettle.
“Are you coming in or going out?” She asked, throwing a quick glance towards him over her shoulder.
“Uh…”
“I really don’t care if you’re coming or going, but close the door. It’s cold out there,” she said, keeping her back turned to him. Logan shrugged his shoulders and stepped in, closing the door.
“Make yourself comfortable. There’s a coat rack in the closet. You can leave your shoes in the as well. I’ll be with you in a minute…” Woman said.
“Okay…” He plunked his backpack to the floor and got rid of his jacket and shoes as she had instructed.

“Have a seat. Dinner is ready,” woman said, turning and carrying the kettle over to the table. Table was set for two.
“It’s nothing fancy, really. Just stew. Wasn’t feeling like cooking today…” She explained apologetically when they sat down.
“Uh…” Logan was at loss. He had no idea of what was going on. Woman scooped generous amount of stew to his plate before taking some for her as well. There was a small basket with bread next to the kettle. For a moment they just sat and ate in silence. Finally it became too much.
“Is the Doc home?” Logan asked. Woman scrunched her forehead in confusion, then smiled.
“Duh! That was rude from me. I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Rogue,” she said, extending her hand over the table. Logan took it and shook it carefully.
“I’m Wolverine. Xavier sent me here for… Well, I was supposed to meet a doctor…”
“Yes. Xavier informed me that you were coming. Nightmares?”
“You’re the Doc?” Logan asked dumbfounded. Woman giggled.
“There’s no doctor. Just two nut jobs. Xavier thought we could help out each other. Kind of like group therapy.”

“Group therapy?” Logan spat venomously. Had Xavier lost his marbles?
“He thought that since we have similar problems, talking about them with each other would help us both…”
“I do not talk about my ‘problems’ with little girls. I better call Xavier and ask him to send somebody get me home,” Logan grunted, standing up and going to his jacket.
“Your cell won’t work. Mine doesn’t either. I guess Xavier really wants us to stay here,” he heard Rogue saying and standing up.

“Sonofabitch!” He felt like crushing the small piece of plastic he was clutching on his left hand. He felt like throwing it to the furthest, deepest snow bank he could see. He took a long drag from his cigar and stuffed the phone back in to his pocket instead. It was one of those ridiculously small gadgets, must have cost a small fortune.

For the last half an hour he had been scouting the surroundings of the cabin and at the same time he had tried desperately to reach Xavier. No luck. Rogue had told him the truth. His cell was as good as dead. Battery was good and full, but lines indicating reception were blinking in erratic pattern, in times disappearing altogether. And what he had seen on his short trip through snowy scenery had already convinced him, that he was truly utterly shipwrecked in the middle of nowhere. Kilometer after kilometer open white field of pristine snow to every direction.
“This calls for a plan B…” He muttered silently, turning back towards the cabin.

“Sorry about that earlier. Xavier obviously didn’t think this through properly. I’m not in the mood to have heart to heart conversations with… Well, with anybody, but I’m not opposing for a little time-off from the mansion. We’re stuck in here. You don’t bother me, and I stay out of your way, and everything should go just nicely. Okay?” He laid out his plan, lying sprawled on a comfortable couch in front of the fireplace. Rogue was sitting on an armchair, deeply immersed to a book on her lap. He had to snap his fingers several times to get her attention.
“Wha… Huh?” She blinked flabbergasted.
“Stay out of my way, I won’t bother you, and we both get a nice vacation on Xavier. That sound like a good plan?”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine…” She muttered, waving her hand, eyes snapping back to the thick volume resting on her thighs. Goddamned thing had to be as thick as his thigh, Logan mused briefly.

Fire was flickering and crackling, radiating warmth. Otherwise cabin was quite quiet, aside of the sound of her breathing and her heart thudding. There was a slight murmur in that pattern. Just a small, making her heartbeat unique, but he was quite sure it wasn’t a sign of distress. He snuggled deeper in to the plush couch, feeling his muscles relax. Not a bad setting. At the mansion he was constantly alert. There were so many disturbing scents and sudden noises, people jumping and running around, kids horsing around with their mutations, every fucking goddamned soul in that place practically begging him to bounce and maim them.
“Oh!” Scratch that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you…” Rogue stammered.
“Really?”
“Really. I think… Could you maybe… Umm… You could probably put those back in…” She was pointing at his hands. Razor-sharp adamantium appendages jutting from between his knuckles. He had sprung them, running purely on instinct and adrenalin. Rogue had suddenly jumped up, dropping the book, and that had caused Logan to lunge on his feet, claws tearing their way out as a defensive measure.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about anything?” Rogue asked after they both sat down again. Logan flexed his fingers and rubbed his palms, wincing a bit.
“There’s nothing to talk about. Just don’t do that. Don’t jump around. I don’t like it.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Part of him liked it a bit too much, and in turn he hated the reaction that followed when that part got excited. Excited or surprised Wolverine equaled Wolverine with claws. He was a fast healer, but it didn’t mean jack shit. He wouldn’t bleed, but claws still hurt like a bitch coming out and going back in.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. But I forgot to tell you something important earlier,” Rogue said, leaning to pick up her book. She scrunched her forehead and started to turn pages.
“Damn… I lost my spot…” She muttered.

“What was it?” Logan asked.
“What was what?”
“The thing you were going to tell me?”
“Oh… It’s about my mutation. It’s my skin. Sucks life and memories out from other people. Hurts them, and hurts me. So don’t touch me. My nightmares, they can get pretty intense and sometimes I’m sleepwalking, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Just don’t try to wake me up if I start doing that. I have accidentally touched people when they have tried to wake me,” Rogue explained, still flipping through the pages of the book. Like they were discussing about the weather instead of how dangerous and lethal she was.
“And I already know your mutation. Xavier told me about who I was going to live with for the coming week…”
“Well isn’t that just peachy! You got the full briefing!” Logan hissed, eyes narrowing.
“He just wanted to put me at ease after what happened to me. Trust me, I wasn’t exactly jumping from joy when I heard that I would be spending a whole month cooped up with a carbon copy of Victor…”
“Creed? Carbon copy? Fuck you, little girl… I’m nothing like that freak!”
“I know that now! But before professor explained me everything, I really didn’t see the difference! Excuse me for being a little paranoid, but after what he did to me…” Rogue shouted, then suddenly snapped her mouth shut and hid behind the book quite literally.
“What that bastard did to you?” Logan asked.
“Nothing. Just go back to what ever that was that you were doing, I’m done with talking.”
“What did he do?” Suddenly it felt awfully important to find out Rogue’s connection with Reed.
“I said I was done with talking.”
“What did he do?”
“What are you? A fucking parakeet?” Rogue huffed, cheeks reddening. Not from embarrassment. From anger. He could smell the scent of it rolling off from her in waves.
“I’m no parakeet. Tell me what he did.”
“He touched me! Okay? He touched me, and it took me a fucking year to get my head sorted out after that! Happy? Now leave me alone!” Book went flying through the room, thudding heavily against the door. Rogue rose from the chair and stomped to a room Logan presumed was her bedroom, and slammed the door shut.

“You really are a fucking loony, Chuck…” He huffed, puffing a cigar, enjoying for being able to smoke it indoors. No whiny kids, no nosy teachers, no fire alarms and sprinklers. Just warm and cozy cabin, and smoke wafting around him in soothing tendrils. He had retrieved the book Rogue had thrown, and it sat on an armrest of the couch. A cookbook. A fucking cook book. Filled with all kinds of recipes, and sprinkled with tidbits of home ec. “A complete guide for proper lady” the cover announced with thick, red letters. He had taken a peak from the info sheet. Written in the early twenties. In mint condition, aside from few turned corners and a small scrape it had undoubtedly gotten when Rogue threw it against the door. A proper lady indeed. He picked it up and started thumbing through the pages, snorting every now and then.

“It… It helps. Keeps him quiet.” He nearly choked on his cigar. Rogue walked to him and picked the book from his lap.
“Christ, kid! Make some noise when you move, okay?” He grunted coughing and flicked the stub of the cigar to fireplace.
“I’ll try to remember. You’re awfully jumpy.”
“Hmph… That book. Keeps who quiet?” Logan asked. He was reluctant to admit it even to himself, but he was actually interested to hear more about the girl.
“When Victor touched me, he practically invaded my mind. Kept feeding me these disgusting images and pictures. I thought I was going crazy… My parents contacted Professor Xavier, and he helped me to sort Victor in my head. We managed to silence him almost completely. I still have his nightmares, and sometimes he tries to break free. I have noticed that reading that book helps to keep him quiet. I guess he isn’t in to home ec…” For that Logan had to chuckle.
“Creed is many things, but it is kind of hard to picture him wearing apron, baking angel food cake…”
“I’m sorry about my outburst earlier. It’s just… When you came in, Victor has been trying to get out. He’s really fighting for it, and I’m a little tired. I shouldn’t have taken it on you,” Rogue whispered, gaze already wandering over pages of the book.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry you have to deal with that furball,” Logan said, leaning deeper in to the welcoming lap of the couch, stretching his legs towards the fireplace, enjoying the warmth creeping up his metal-coated bones. Crackling of the fire, and steady sound of Rogue breathing and pages of the book turning soon lulled him to slumber.

First thing he noticed was the lack of tiredness and tension. He was completely rested, and his whole body felt lax and heavy. Next thing that seeped to his hazy awareness was that he wasn’t alone on the couch. He cracked one eye open to scan his surroundings. He could see something from the corner of his eye. He shifted a bit. Rogue lay curled against his side, book still open on her lap, in deep sleep. As he watched, she begun to stir, and opened her eyes.

“Hi.”
“Hi. Slept well?” Rogue asked. Logan sat up straighter, stretched and yawned. At least he should have gotten a crick to his neck from sleeping in seated position, but there was none of the usual tension and twitchiness.
“Very. How about you?” He asked.
“Not bad. I’m sorry, I really wasn’t planning to fall asleep on you. It looked like you were having a bad dream and… I know it’s not a good idea to wake somebody if they’re having a bad dream, but you seemed to calm down when I came closer. I was going to just sit next to you for a while, but I guess it was so warm and…” Her babbling would have been quite amusing if it didn’t remind him of the fact why he shouldn’t go and fall asleep to somewhere she could easily reach him.
“Look, I really appreciate what you did, but you shouldn’t do it. I have problems of my own when it comes to nightmares and mutations. My dreams… They can be quite vivid. You saw my claws. They tend to make an appearance if I get a nightmare bad enough. So, in the future, do us both a favor and stay away from me when I sleep. Okay?”
“Okay… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude or anything, and I was really careful with my skin and everything and…” She was still babbling.
“Hush. I just don’t want to skewer you by accident. Now, have you actually learned something while reading that book of yours?” Logan asked, trying to distract her. And it worked. She practically beamed and jumped on her feet, before remembering Logan’s earlier warning.
“Sorry. No abrupt movement…”
“And another rule. Stop being so goddamned sorry. Makes me feel like I’m a complete asshole. Go, make me something to eat. I’m fucking starving,” he rumbled.

He pulled on his jacket and strutted outside when Rogue started tinkering in the kitchen. From the sound of it he would be starving for a good while longer. He didn’t really mind. After having slept whole afternoon a brisk walk was really what he needed. Sun had already set. Full moon loomed over the scenery, making snowfield around him twinkle and glow silvery sparkles. Air was getting colder. Maybe Xavier had been right. Up to some extent. He still didn’t feel comfortable about the idea of crying over their fucking miserable lives together, but Rogue wasn’t as bad company as he had first expected. She didn’t try to boss him around. Didn’t nag. Just sat there, reading that freaking book of hers.
“Fucking Creed…” Yet another life that fucker had managed to destroy. He was quite sure young women these days didn’t spend their time cooped up with nutjobs at desolate cabins, reading books about how to became perfect housewives. Speaking of which, he should probably head back to the cabin.

He checked the time from his cell. To his surprise he had spend good part of an hour wandering aimlessly. There was no chance in hell he would get this empty and distracted at the mansion. All those people scurrying around kept him on the edge, and most part of his time he spend trying to control his urges and impulses. He simply wasn’t built to live in that kind of environment. But he couldn’t very well just take off and leave, either. As long as Creed was in the picture, Xavier needed him. He was the only durable enough to go against that mangy cat. Lately Creed had dropped off from the radar, but he knew perfectly well that didn’t mean jack shit. It was only momentarily calm before the storm. Eric had probably sent him somewhere to do his bidding, but sooner or later Creed would return.

Delicious scents of bacon, eggs and freshly baked cookies greeted him when he stepped in to the cabin.
“Oh, you’re back! Just in time! Here!” Rogue handed him a plate filled to the brim with greasy strips of crisp bacon, fried eggs and toast that was practically dripping melted butter. He put the plate down on the table before shrugging off his jacket and sat down to eat.
“This is real good,” he told her when she sat opposite him with a plate of her own.
“I know it’s more of a breakfast kind of food, but I just couldn’t resist… Shouldn’t be eating this stuff, I can already hear my arteries planning a strike as we speak, but sometimes the craving hits,” she mumbled around mouthful of bacon. Logan nodded. Urges and cravings were something he could really relate to.
“I’m not big with labeling stuff. If you want it, and you’re in the position to have it, take it,” he said. Rogue stopped eating and paled a bit.
“What?”
“Uhh… Nothing. It’s kind of stupid…” She said, shoving her food around the plate.
“Obviously not stupid enough when it made you lost your appetite. What? Was it something I did? Do I have something green sticking out from my ears?” That earned him a wavering smile.
“Weren’t we supposed to have a nice little vacation, without all this group therapy shit?” Rogue asked.
“Well, yeah. But it’s kind of hard to have a nice vacation when we keep stumbling over every fucking word and move we make…” Logan grunted.
“Victor in my head just agreed with you. It felt kind of creepy. Like I said. Stupid. I know he’s not really in here. He can’t hurt me. Yet every time he moves it freaks me out.”
“That’s not stupid. That’s called common sense. You should be proud of yourself. You have had that little shit floating around in your head over a year now, and you’re still sane. I know Victor. Know him very well. Can’t blame if you’re afraid of him.”
“How do you know him?” Rogue asked. Logan coughed and concentrated to the plate in front of him.
“Not really a suitable topic to discuss…”

He wasn’t going to elaborate more. Rogue tilted her head and huffed.
“So it’s okay to poke my head, but not yours?” She asked.
“Something like that. I don’t know what Xavier was thinking when he set us up. My head isn’t a pretty place. Most of the stuff in there freaks even me out, rest of it is useless.” Logan pushed away his plate. Suddenly he wasn’t that hungry either.
“Xavier sent us here to get our heads cleared up. At this pace were going, I’m going to be just fine, but you’re… You don’t even try! I think that if I’m going to spend a whole week with you in here, you better start talking! I can’t, and I won’t spend that week tiptoeing around you and guarding my every word!” Rogue shouted.
“You don’t have to. Just keep doing what you’re doing before I came. Read that book of yours. Cook, clean house, build snowmen, build a goddamned snowmobile and get the hell out of here if you get bored, but I will not discuss about me and Creed with you!” It was Logan’s turn to retreat. He stood up, took his backpack from the corner he had thrown it earlier and stomped to a room he presumed was another bedroom, meant for him.

Touchy? Hell, yeah. Tension that had left his muscles during his nap on the couch with Marie earlier had returned tenfold, curling and twisting his whole body to tight and slightly painful knots. Somehow it made him feel almost comfortable and at ease. It was something familiar. Something he had to cope with instead of spending his time to mulling around business that didn’t really change no matter how often you thought about it. He cracked his neck and stalked to the bed, sprawling on it on his stomach. Letting his hands and feet dangle over the edges of the mattress. Comforter on top of the bedspread was dusty, and it made his nose tickle. He suppressed the sneeze and closed his eyes. Maybe things would be better in the morning…

Strong grip of steel manacles around him changed suddenly. He wasn’t submerged under water, but he was unable to breathe and move. Unable to scream. Completely restrained. One clawed hand held him down; fingers clamped tightly around his both wrists, holding his hands against the small of his back. Other hand was clamped over his face, covering his nose and mouth, cutting off air. He was suffocating, and in a strange, perverse way enjoying the feeling. Creed’s breath was tickling the side of his throat.
“I’m going to make you scream…”

Whisper brought him out of the twisted dream coughing and gagging. Now he managed just to sit up relatively calm instead of screaming and trashing the whole room. He sat at the edge of the bed, shivering and trying to forget the feel of his hands and body against his own flesh. It wasn’t quite working, but finally he was able to stand up and shrug on his coat. Quick check from the window revealed it wasn’t even midnight yet. Hours of blessed darkness left outside.

At the front door he stopped. He could hear Rogue tossing and turning, and muttering in her sleep. Poor kid. She hadn’t deserved trashing he gave her earlier. It wasn’t her fault that he was so utterly fucked up from the head. But she shouldn’t have kept pressing. Xavier had tried, in his usual unobtrusive way to open him up. To talk. ‘To share’ what he had gone through. Logan wondered what the Professor would have said if he had opened his mouth and spoke about what bothered him the most in the matter. Knowing Xavier he probably would have just flashed one of his sad smiles, patted his hand and sent him away, with a request to come to see him again if something was still bothering him.

Snow was crunching under his feet. Sound of it, and the crisp, clean scent of cold air leeched off some of the tension from his back and shoulders, but he knew only way to get rid of it permanently was if he could sink his claws knuckle deep to Creed’s skull. Feel the bone shattering, and slick fluids and tissues leaking over his fists. No fuss. No muss. No screaming. Just a clean jab through the base of his skull.

He was nowhere near ready to return when first rays of sun peaked over the horizon. Going back to the cabin would mean that he would have to apologize. He had already apologized from her twice. That was twice more than he could remember doing during the whole remembered part of his life. And wasn’t his outburst justified? He had already told her he wasn’t going to talk; yet she had kept pushing. Just like he had done to her.
“Time to face the music, asshole…” He muttered to himself and started shuffling through the knee-high snow towards the cabin. From this distance it was just a small dark dot, but as he got closer, it started to gain some shape, and he could see that lights were on. Rogue was awake.
“Shit. I hope she has gotten some sleep…”

As he got closer to the cabin he could see her through the window, small figure clad to a nightgown, sitting at the table and cradling a steaming ceramic cup in her hands, inhaling the steam with her eyes closed, small smile playing on her lips. There were dark blotches under her eyes, and she kept rubbing her eyes and yawning. He could tell she hadn’t slept, probably not at all during the whole night. And the sour glance she threw at him when he stepped in told him she was still pissed off.

He could smell a scent of chamomile in the air. She was sipping slowly some herbal tea. He shrugged off his jacket.
“Morning…” He ventured carefully. Adding the ‘good’ in front of morning seemed like he was asking for troubles. He didn’t really give a flying fuck about the kid, but if he was going to spend the coming week with her, they should at least try to act civilized. He didn’t care. Really.
“Morning.” Tone of her voice would have probably frozen the tea in her cup if she hadn’t plunked the cup to the table before speaking. He huffed and sat opposite her. Better get it out in the open.

“I’m sorry. I was being an asshole last night. I shouldn’t have snapped you like that.”
“I don’t fucking care if you’re sorry. Like it or not, were here to talk. So far I have done all the talking, and I don’t think it’s exactly fair.”
“Back the fuck up a bit!” It came out harsher than he had intended, but served its purpose. Rogue turned silent, and just stared at him with wide eyes.
“Professor arranged this joyride for both of us. For me he didn’t tell jack shit about what to expect. To you he apparently gave more detailed briefing. I agreed to do this because truth to be told, my dreams have gotten to a point where I’m liable to maim half of the mansion before I wake up and realize what I’m doing. I came here to relax and sort out my head on my own. Wasn’t really expecting your kind of company.”
“My kind of company?” Rogue shrieked.
“Professor kind of hinted that there should be some sort of shrink in here waiting for me. Some old geezer who thinks he knows everything about me and understands my problems and can make them all go away just by snapping his fingers. Wasn’t really expecting a cross-breed of Barbie and Mary Poppins.” And as soon as the words left his mouth he realized his mistake. Teacup came flying over the table, hitting him to the corner of his eye and splitting skin open. Scalding hot tea inside of it splashed all over him.

“Fuck you, Wolverine…” Rogue purred venomously as he sat there, chamomile tea dripping from his face and clothes, mixing with blood that had seeped from the wound above his eye before it had healed.
“Barbie and Mary Poppins? I kind of doubt either of them were insane. Barbie? An airhead. Mary Poppins? Plain annoying. And neither of them have had the pleasure of knowing Victor Creed, as I have. Want me to let him out? He would love to play with you…” She hissed, stalking backwards, getting some distance between herself and still dumbfounded Logan.
“Oh, yes… He talked to me last night. Told me everything about what went down on that last mission….” Rogue smirked.
“Shut up.”
“He told me how he touched you too…”
“Shut up…”
“And he told me how much you liked it…”
“I’m not listening.” Logan was up on his feet, tugging on his boots. There was no telling what would happen if he didn’t get out of there fast.
“How you screamed and cried…”
“I’m not listening,” he tried to singsong while hopping on one foot like a kangaroo, trying to pull on a boot that refused to cooperate.
“And how you begged for more…”

Boot forgotten he rammed straight at her, shoulder first, knocking her against the side of the fireplace and pinning her there with his body, and three strategically placed adamantium claws, two on both sides of her neck, one scraping the tender skin of her throat in the middle.
“Would you shut up already?” He hissed through clenched teeth, leaning his whole weight on her. Rogue just smirked.
“Care to have some more?” And suddenly he realized he wasn’t dealing with the girl he had met only a day before. Creed was lurking in the depths of her brown eyes. He pushed himself away from her and snorted disgusted.
“Get out of her head, Creed…”
“Or what? You’ll scratch her with your claws? Remember, she’s just a little girl, runt. She won’t heal up if you decide to give in to your urges…”
“Let her go, Creed. She doesn’t need to deal with our shit!”
“Oh, but I’m enjoying myself too much to let her go… Thousand and one ways to make you squirm… I’ll see you around, Wolverine…” Suddenly Rogue’s eyes snapped shut and she fell on the floor, limp as a rag doll, barely breathing.

To his relief she had only gotten the wind knocked out, nothing serious, when he had barreled on her. He gathered her on his arms and set her gently to the couch. Changed his soaked clothes and cleaned up the puddle of tea from the floor around the bench he had been sitting when Creed had emerged. Everything taken care off he walked to her and sat on the floor, leaning his back against the couch and settled as comfortably as he could to wait her to wake up. He could only hope it would be Rogue who he spoke next with. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another dose of Creed without skewering her.

It didn’t take long before she begun to stir.
“Oww… Feels like I’ve been hit by a truck… What happened?” She asked, rubbing her stomach and chest.
“That truck would be me. Creed came to say hi,” Logan blurted out. Rogue scrunched her forehead.
“Victor? He has been restless all the time you have been in here, but I figured he would settle down eventually. Nobody has ever taken control over me before… What did he do? I didn’t hurt you, did I? Are you alright?” She sat up, reached with her hands and noticed at the last possible moment they were bare. She folded them on her lap, eyes fixed to him.
“I’m fine. I will be fine. We traded some words. It was as if he was trying to rile me up, to make me hurt you. You’ll probably have some bruises, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”
“Last night… Before I fell asleep, he showed me some things. Things he had done to you…”
“Don’t. Don’t go there. That’s what got you in to that shape in the first place…” Logan said and stood up, shoving his hands deep in to his pockets.
“Fine. We don’t have to talk about it. Just… I’m sorry. Everything he couldn’t do to me, he did to you.”
“Just keep your mouth shut. Okay?”
“Okay. I think… I think I’ll go and get dressed now.”

While Rogue got dressed he decided to make himself useful. He was rummaging through the cupboards and closets when she emerged from her room, covered now from head to toe. Hooded sweatshirt, jeans, gloves and socks.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“Breakfast.”
“You can cook?” She asked.
“Well, I was on my own quite some years before I met Xavier and his team…” Logan said.
“Would you mind if I make it?” Rogue asked. Logan backed off from the stove.
“Be my guest. I’ll go and get some logs to the fireplace.”
“Thanks. It’s easier to get Victor out of my mind… Oh, I have been thinking I could start knitting. You need anything? Socks, shirts?” She suddenly asked.
“Not really. No. But thanks anyway.”

There were already enough logs for the fireplace, sitting on a neat pile next to it, but he needed fresh air to clear his head. Girl started to freak him out. One minute there was Creed. On the next moment she was cooking and knitting like there was no tomorrow. How the hell he was supposed to get his head sorted out when all he could do was to keep guessing with whom he was chatting?
“Hey, are you going to eat?” He heard her calling from the porch.
“Yeah. I’m coming!” He shouted and gathered quickly some logs before he emerged from the woodshed.

“I have been thinking…” Rogue started when they sat down to eat. He had learned long ago, that those words rarely bode well.
“What?”
“What are we going to do? Since you’re not going to talk, and there’s really not much else to do… Should we figure out a way to contact Professor and ask him to send someone to pick us up?”
“Maybe. But unless you’re psychic, I doubt that’s going to happen…”
“Aren’t you an X-Man?” Rogue asked.
“And what does that have to do with anything?”
“Aren’t you guys on call 24-7? I’m sure Xavier made sure he could contact you if you’re needed. I haven’t searched this place, but there might be some kind of hidden communicator…”
“Shit, kid… You have been watching too much TV. It doesn’t work like that in real life. Xavier dumped me here for a week. It’s a week he’s either able to let me go, or he’ll send someone to pick me up if he can’t do without me. We’re stuck.” Logan rumbled.
“And I’m grounded, anyway…” He added. Small giggle escaped from Rogue’s lips before she could stop herself.
“Umm… Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. “ Logan scowled at her, but couldn’t resist the smile that tugged the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah. I have been a bad boy, and daddy took away my privileges…”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Rogue asked.
“I’m not sure if there’s anything to talk about…” Logan muttered.
“I’m quite sure Creed already gave you quite detailed insight of what happened.”
“But it’s you who’s supposed to get it off from your mind. Not him. Come on, what have you got to loose?”
“What’s left of my dignity?”
“I already saw everything from Victor’s point of view,” Rogue reminded him. Logan huffed and stood up.
“I let Creed fuck me during a mission. Nobody got hurt, but could have. It was irresponsible and incredibly stupid, and ever since it happened I have had this sick urge to do it again. There. Happy?”

“That’s… That’s not the way he showed it to me…” Rogue whispered. Logan raised his eyebrow.
“He told me… I saw you. You didn’t want it. He hurt you.”
“That’s not the point. I could have stopped him. I could have. But I didn’t. And I keep having these dreams… Let him do it again and again, and it’s never enough…”
“Why?”
“I don’t know! I’m fucked up from the head! Isn’t that a reason good enough?” Logan growled.
“That’s not what I meant. Why it happened doesn’t matter. But why it isn’t enough?” Rogue clarified.
“It just isn’t…”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Why?”
“You suddenly have a one word vocabulary?” Logan snorted.
“Tell me why it isn’t enough.”
“Because when it’s over I’m still alive! No matter what he does, how badly I’m torn up, I’m still alive!” Logan shouted and retreated to his room, closing the door with a loud slam.

He could hear Rogue moving around, doing dishes and humming softly. Was this really just the day two? How the hell they were going to make it the whole week without killing each other? Five more days.
“Wolverine?” He could hear her calling him through the door.
“Yeah?”
“I made some coffee and tea. There are biscuits, too.” Christ. How the hell did she kept her figure so slim when all she did was baked, cooked and ate? Did she have some sort of void where her stomach should have been? Some sort of ‘eat-all-you-like-and-stay-slim’ –mutation? And why the hell that offer sounded so fucking tempting?

“Chocolate and cherries. I hope you like.”
“If you’re contending for the title of the perfect housewife, I’m seriously compelled to vote you for that position…”
“Actually I’m sick and tired of it. Up to my elbows to flour and sugar 24-7. All I want to do is to go out and have some fun, but I can’t. Not as long as he’s in my head.”
“Life sucks,” Logan grunted, stirring his coffee.
“And then you die.”
“No. You just keep living. Fuck. When I set my foot in this cabin and saw you I swore I wouldn’t be doing this anytime soon…”
“What’s wrong with me?” Rogue asked, scrunching her forehead.
“You’re just a fucking kid. No kid should go through the shit Creed has to offer. No kid should go through the shit that is in my head. You should be out there, having fun with your friends, instead of cooped up in here with me.”

“I haven’t been a kid for a long time. Not after Victor touched me… My friends… They’re scared of me. They don’t understand. Some of them are mutants, but not one of them has same kind of problems I have. Kate has the strongest mutation after me. She can make everything; grass, flowers and trees grow faster. None of them can hurt other people like I can. It really sucks…” Rogue huffed, fiddling with her gloves.
“Well, I can’t hurt anybody with my mutation, either. But it shouldn’t take a rocket scientist to understand how hard it is for you,” Logan grunted, placing his palm over her hands. She glanced at him surprised.
“But… Those claws…”
“Are not a mutation. They were put in to me because of my mutation. I heal from everything. They, who ever they are, found out about it and decided to try and make a weapon out of me. Fucked up my mind and body. My memories go back about fifteen years, to the moment I escaped from where I was held. All I have that I’m pretty sure truly belongs to me is a name. Logan. I’m quite sure it’s mine. Don’t know if it’s first or last.”

“Logan… Can I call you that?” Rogue asked. Logan nodded.
“It’s a good name. Much better than the Wolverine. My real name’s Marie.”
“Can I call you that?” Logan asked. Rogue flinched and pulled her hand away.
“No. That’s… That’s what he called me. I’d prefer Rogue…”
“Rogue it is, then. What do you say we turn in early tonight? I think I saw a sled in the back of the woodshed earlier. We could take it out for a spin tomorrow morning,” Logan proposed. For that Rogue smiled.
“I’d like that.”

At the end of that week they weren’t even remotely ready, their problems merely buried under layers upon layers of coffee, cookies and snow.
“Ready to go?” Logan glanced surprised from the snow bank he had fallen when Rogue had thrown him with a snowball. Summers stood there, amusement written all over his features. He stood up, clearing his throat and wiping the snow off from his shoulders. Rogue came bouncing to where they stood.
“Hi! You came to take him home?” She asked. Summers nodded, and suddenly Logan had the urge to tell him no. No. He wasn’t coming back. He was going to stay here with the girl. Of course he didn’t voice that opinion. Instead he went, gathered his belongings and followed Summers to the jet.

“What’s going to happen to her?” He asked, gazing through the window Rogue’s form that got tinier as the Blackbird lurched up on the sky.
“Xavier’s sending somebody to pick her up and take her home,” Summers said, quirking a questioning eyebrow to his direction.
“She’s a good kid. And nowhere near ready to go back. Shit that happened to her… It’s a wonder she hasn’t found a big enough rock and crawled under it to die…”
“From where do you think Xavier found her for the first place?” Summers asked.
“Why is he sending her home, then?” Logan asked sharply.
“School isn’t a mental institute.”
“What?”
“She was on a vacation. It was time for her to return.”
“She’s a loony?” Logan asked dumbfounded.
“I wouldn’t use so harsh language if I were you. But she’s a mental patient. In good enough shape to stay on her own for short periods of time, but eventually she has to return to the institute. She needs therapy to keep Sabretooth at bay.”
“Jesus… I had no idea… Where she’s staying?” Logan asked.
“I’m sure professor has the address,” Summers said.

For the following weeks Logan battled the urge to go and ask Xavier the address of the institute Rogue resided. She had been just a kid. A kid he had spent time with. Spoken with. Played in the snow with. Cooked with. Shared their sucky lives with over coffee and cookies. Nightmares hadn’t lessened, but he had something competing with them. Image of her. Her face would sometimes float from behind the darkness and vanquish the disgusting, filthy feeling Creed’s paws on him created. And one day, several months later, when Xavier announced that the school would gain yet another resident he jumped to the opportunity and offered to go and pick her up.

He wasn’t sure what to expect. Drive to the address Xavier had given him had lasted couple of hours. Through Salem, turn left from the first crossroad and keep on driving until the road ends. Institute looked much like Xavier’s school. It even had Xavier’s name engraved to a metal plate welded to the fence that surrounded it. Xavier’s Home For Troubled. He wondered briefly what made him less troubled than the residents of this small haven, but the trail of his thoughts was interrupted suddenly when he drove through the gates and he saw her standing in front of the elaborate building with tattered duffel bag at her feet.

She looked somehow smaller. More fragile. Heavy green cloak covering her from head to toe, hood of it pulled over her head, shadowing her face. She wasn’t looking up, but kept her gaze fixed to a spot between her feet. She didn’t look up before he called her name.
“Rogue?” She glanced briefly towards him, then crouched to pick up her bag and shuffled to the passenger’s side of the truck. He pushed the door open. She threw the bag in and climbed after it. Closed the door and put on the seatbelt. His gaze flickered over him again.
“You’re from Xavier, right?” There was no recognition. Not at all. He was a perfect stranger for her. Mute horror gripped his chest. Mind wipe. She was blank. Wiped clean.
“Yeah. I’m from Xavier. You can call me… Logan,” he gasped, masking the rising nausea to a coughing fit.
“Nice to meet you, Logan. You can call me Marie. But I’m sure you already knew that, how silly of me…” She said smiling, extending her hand for him to shake. He didn’t take it, but put the car on drive and kept his hands on the steering wheel. Marie. Except she didn’t like to be called Marie. She wanted people to call her Rogue.

“So… How long you lived there?” He asked, trying to sound casual when he turned from the dirt road to asphalt.
“Just a couple of weeks. Xavier didn’t have a room available at the mansion before now…”
“I see. What are… What are you going to do?”
“Professor asked if I could join the team. To become an X-Man. And I’m going to teach art.”
“That’s… That’s nice…” Logan forced the words out. Teaching art? Become an X-Man? How old was she? She didn’t look a day older than seventeen. No make-up, hood pulled back from her face revealing a shiny cascade of chestnut hair pulled back to a ponytail. Those pouty lips and brown eyes he had learned to connect with her during the week they had spent together at the cabin.
“How did Xavier found you?” Logan asked.
“I… There was this incident back home. I accidentally touched somebody and he ended up in a coma. It’s my skin. My mutation. It hurts other people if they touch my bare skin. Sucks the life out of them. And if they’re mutants, I gain their powers for a brief period of time,” Rogue explained.
“I can see why Xavier wants you in the team…” Logan muttered, more to himself than to the girl.
“Are you in it? Are you an X-Man?” Rogue asked.
“Yeah. But just in the back-up team. Xavier probably puts you in the alpha team. With your power…”
“What’s your mutation? If you don’t mind me asking?” Was her next question.
“Nothing as spiffy as yours. I heal from anything. Not really an aggressive mutation…” No need to tell her about the claws. Not yet. Not before he had had a little chat with Xavier.
“That must be handy.”
“Yeah. I guess it is…”

He wanted to stop the car and go and beat up something. Somebody. Lash out and scream. But that was not an option. He pulled out a cigar and lit it, taking a long drag. He could feel her eyes on him, practically burning a hole to the side of his face.
“What?” That came out more annoyed than he had meant.
“It’s nothing… Just… You looked so familiar for a second. Like we have met earlier somewhere.
“I’m sure I would remember that,” Logan said, gripping the steering wheel harder. Cold lump had settled to the pit of his stomach earlier, and the closer they got to the school, the larger it felt, until he parked the truck in front of the garage and found out he was unable to move. He was scared out of his wits. Because if Xavier had seen it fit to wipe Rogue’s mind clean rather than invest any more of his vast funds to the therapy she would have needed, what would he do to him?

“Do you know your way around here?” He asked when the girl just sat there with expectant look on her face, grasping that god-awful duffel bag with both hands.
“No. And I’m kind of nervous… I guess I’m a bit shy. Would you mind showing me around a bit?” Rogue asked, turning those big brown eyes to his, look on them begging him to say yes.
“Of course if you have something more important to do…” She took his hesitation as a sign of reluctance. He stubbed his cigar and took the duffel from her, shaking out from the icy grip of fear.
“No. Don’t have anything else… Come on.”

Welcoming committee was already gathered to the entrance hall. Summers, Ororo, Jean, and of course Xavier, smiling that enigmatic smile of his.
“Welcome to Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters, miss D’Ancanto,” telepath said extending his hand. To Logan Rogue seemed a bit reluctant to take it, but she shook it nonetheless, smiling back to the man that had taken a huge lump from her life in order to turn her a pliant little soldier.
“I trust your trip here went well?” Xavier asked.
“Yes. But I’m a bit tired…”
“Of course. Jean can show you to your room…” Xavier said, and another resident telepath stepped forth, showering Rogue with sickeningly sweet smile and taking her duffel from Logan. Rogue threw last nervous glance towards him over her shoulder before following the redheaded doctor towards the teacher’s wing of the mansion.

“What happened to her?” Logan growled as soon as he was sure that she was out of hearing range. Professor Xavier sighed heavily.
“I was unable to erase Sabretooth’s presence from her mind. I had to block that part of her memories. Isolate it. She deserves to…”
“She deserves to live like a normal person!” Logan barked.
“Yes. And this way she can.”
“And you can use her as a pawn to your little game with Eric, is that what this is all about?” Logan asked. Xavier frowned.
“Whatever you’re thinking, it isn’t like that. Yes, it is my intention to train her to become an X-Man. In time she will most likely join the team. But from now on her first priority is to teach art. She’s able to do that, and lot more, interact with other people, without Sabretooth…”
“Right. Because after all, it’s perfectly normal to loose a part from your memory…” Logan muttered.
“Wolverine!”
“Don’t bother, Summers. I won’t interfere your little plan…” Logan said turning on his heels and marching out.

“At least not much…” He ground out, downing his fifth beer for that night. After he had walked out he had just stood on the driveway for a long moment, thinking. He had gotten in his truck and driven around aimlessly for hours, thinking some more. Was he really ready and willing to let Xavier use Rogue? Use her like he had been used all those years ago, as a weapon? Because anyway he tried to look at it, that was what was going to happen eventually. She would become the ultimate weapon for Xavier. There would be no team X behind her. Only Xavier. And missions he wasn’t ready to send his precious children. Really bad ones. The ones he had tried to make Logan take when they had first met. Ones that weren’t spoken out loud, because they were Xavier’s dirty little secret.

“Won’t interfere your plans that much. I only take her out of the equation…” He muttered softly, walking to his truck. He would take Rogue with him and leave. Girl he had once known belonged out there, baking cookies and clubbing with her friends.