When I show you that I just don't care
When I'm throwing punches in the air
When I'm broken down and I can't stand
Will you be strong enough to be my man?...


I don't know how I knew he would be coming back that day. Instinct, I guess... or probably the him in my head gave me a subtle hint. He'd been gone for three years after all, and I'd long stopped running towards the front gate every time the roar of a motorcycle went past.

That day, though... something inside me just knew I had to be there. By the gates, on the drive, on that day, at that time. I didn't question it, and when Logan rode up on Cyke's bike, I wasn't even really surprised. I just watched as he turned off the ignition and stepped off the bike, turning to face me. And when he opened his arms, I practically fell into them as if no time had passed at all.

Looking up as he pulled back slightly, I was surprised to feel the silk of my scarf as he smoothed the material over my mouth, and even more surprised as his lips descended on mine in a gentle kiss. It was slow, and soft, and I returned it with all the innocent awkwardness that comes with inexperience. He whispered something against my lips as we parted, and in my touch-induced daze I almost didn't hear him.

When the words finally sunk in, I was sure I hadn't heard him right. But before I could question it, he was walking back to his bike to get his bag. And the way he looked at me as he walked back and slipped his arm around my waist... he loved me. Logan loved me.

And that's when I began to worry.

I know what people think when they think of Logan and I, in the couple way I mean. The older, feral man and the untouchable, young girl. Weird maybe, or dangerous. I think strangely fitting, but that's just me. And possibly him...

But they're right, in a way. It is dangerous. Only thing is, it's not dangerous for the person they think it's dangerous for – if that makes sense at all.

Logan would never hurt me. He'd rather die, I know that for absolute fact. He could've died several times over on the way to save me, but he did it anyway, just so I'd be safe. Just so I'd live. I'm not in any danger with him, just the opposite in fact. And in the past few weeks he's been here, he's been nothing but sweet, patient and gentle – to me, at least. He's not what people think... but then, I'm not either.

I haven't aged a bit in their eyes during the three years he's been away. I'm still – and perhaps forever will be – the little girl they rescued from Magneto. The innocent. She Who Must Be Protected At All Costs. I think Logan still sees me like that sometimes too, or maybe the protecting part just goes along with me no matter what, cuz he definitely doesn't see me as a little girl. Which, at almost twenty one years old, is a very good thing to me.

But anyways. I'm just saying, I haven't changed to the lot of them. They see me as sweet and gentle, and they see him as animalistic and unpredictable.

I wonder what they'd say if I told them it was the other way around.

Not that I don't have my sweet moments, or that Logan isn't every bit the predator his codename suggests, but... relationship-wise? What I'd get versus what he'd have to cope with? There's just no comparison.

There's a reason I have my own room, and it's not just cuz of my skin. The fact is that I'm just not a good person to live with. Kitty and Jubilee, as much as I love 'em, just didn't know how to deal with me waking up screaming from nightmares nearly every night. It was a pretty bad one after a battle with Sabertooth that had been the final straw, for all of us – not just them. I moved into my own room because I knew that if we didn't get distance, I'd lose 'em – and I wouldn't fault 'em a bit for it.

It wasn't just the nightmares though, that was just the longest lasting of everything. It was hardest when I first came here, after Logan left. I had so much of him and Magneto in my head, that the things I did... the stuff I said... the way I acted... I don't know how anyone still liked me after the worst was over. But they did.

I guess saying that the worst was over isn't true, cuz the worst was yet to come. The beginning was bad, but at least the way I acted during that time obviously wasn't me. As time goes on though, as the personalities merge with my own, the things I say and do that aren't me are still tinged with stuff that is me. In other words... it sounds like me, and they can't tell. I don't know how many people I've pushed back with that. And it's one thing to say for one period of time that I'm not going to be acting like myself – but for the rest of my life? Who would be able to stand for that? And I don't want to hurt anyone. Not with my fists and not with my tongue. Not someone I care about.

I drive people away. It's what I do. I'd like to blame it on my mutation, but what does that mean really? My mutation is a part of me, so in the end, I'm still the winner of the blame game. Jubilee and Kitty and I aren't as close as we could've been, Logan himself had to leave only hours after recovering from me... and, okay, I know there was extenuating circumstances in that instance, but I can't help the way I felt, y'know?

And hell, I mean... I drove my parents away. The two people in the entire world that have to love you no matter what, and I made them hate me. How long would it take someone who wasn't obligated to care to turn away?

That's it, that's what I'm afraid of. Can he handle it? Can he handle me? I have to know before I can risk showing him how badly I want to be with him.

We're going to have to talk. And I know the perfect place.

---

I think this is a good spot. I mean, it's quiet, peaceful, comfortable, and… he's here. Which, y'know, is kinda essential for the talk-having…

"Logan?" I ask, looking out at the lake. He makes a rumbling questioning sound and I smile softly as I feel the vibration from my position leaning back against him. "What are you thinking about?"

"Just things." He says, "'Bout how peaceful it is where ya are. How I never felt that before. Thinkin' 'bout how much I love bein' with ya."

Really? You… really? "Oh." I say, unable to find the words right away.

"Somethin' wrong, Marie?" He asks, rubbing my arm a little. He sees right through me sometimes, which is more than a little disconcerting… while at the same time being, kinda nice.

"No, not really." I say, "I like it that I can help you feel that way. I love you. You know that, right?" Telling him is okay, that's okay. It's showing him that hasta wait.

"Somethin' on your mind, baby? Sounds like maybe there's somethin' ya need to say."

"I.... well, I was just thinking about being strong." I start, not quite sure how I'm gonna explain this. I wanna get the words out right, I know that for sure. But I… I can't just come out and ask him, I gotta work up to it, I gotta do it right. "There are all kinds of ways to be strong, aren't there?" I ask him finally, once I've gotten something straight in my head.

"Guess so. Never really thought about it much."

"I mean, there's the kind of strong that takes muscles..." I throw out, feeling a ramble coming on, "Like when you're fightin' or doin' some kind of hard work. That kind's pretty easy to know. Either someone is or they aren't or they're working on being that kind of strong. It's pretty easy to know that about a person. For example, people can look at you and tell that you're strong enough to take care of anything they can throw at you."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"But then sometimes people can fool you about how strong they are too." I continue, going through the list I went through when I myself was figuring it all out, "Sometimes a person that you think is really strong turns out not to be and somebody that you wouldn't think of like that turns out to be the strongest of all. I think sometimes it has to do with what's on the inside of a person that makes them be that way. Like when some little 110 pound woman lifts the back end of bus all by herself because her child's trapped underneath it. You hear about stuff like that all the time."

"Yeah." He said, and I can tell he has no idea where I'm going with this. Is it really that hard for him to tell how much trouble I'm gonna be? I'm prone to unpredictable bursts of violence, I wake up screaming and crying nearly every night, I take off into the woods at a moment's notice for hours... Does this sound like an enticing package? I think not.

I have to know.

"Then there's a lot of different kinds of inside strong too." I say, trying to hide the tension in my voice. "Oh, people call it different things, but it's really all ways of being strong. Like when that woman lifts the bus off her baby, it's a kind of inside strength because she loves him so much that it gives her the outside strength. So that's one kind of inside strong; doing whatever it takes to protect someone you love. That's what you did for me on the Statue that night." If I walk away from you now, would that make me strong? Or just stupid? I'd be protecting you...

Would you want me to?

"There's the kind of strong that lets you do something just because it's the right thing to do. It doesn't matter what anybody else says or thinks about it, you just do it because it's right, even if you might be tempted, like not cheating on a test. That's just a little thing, but it's not right to do it and sometimes it takes being strong, especially if it's a really important test." Is he getting it? At all? Does he understand now what I'm trying to say...?

"Then there's the kind of inside strong that lets you go on when something terrible happens." I say, nervously snuggling back against him, "Not everyone has that kind of strong either. Lots of people get broken when they lose something important to them, like a husband or a wife or somebody else they love a lot. Or maybe when they're in a terrible accident and can't walk anymore. It's like they just give up on life. You have that kind of strong too. All the horrible things those people did to you, all the pain they caused you, and you still didn't lay down and die. You kept on fighting back." I don't know if I have the kind of strong, sugar. If I lost you...

"Didn't have much choice about the dying part, darlin'." He says, his arms tightening around me, "You forgettin' about the healin'?"

"No. And you did have a choice. You could have just given up. Healing makes it harder to kill you, not impossible." I almost did it... Twice. "I bet if you wanted to you could have just laid there and not done anything and eventually you would have died somehow. I'm glad you didn't. You have the kind of strong that lets you keep hoping good things are going to happen to you -- even if you won't admit it to yourself." I say that last part with a slight smile, 'eternal optimist' is not exactly the phrase many would associate with Logan, that's for sure.

"Guess so. Paid off. Found you. You're the best thing that's happened." He answers, tightening his embrace once again. I have no complaints, I can't feel my legs at the moment. Best thing? Really...? But... Oh wait, he's still talking. "I'd have to say you have that kind of strong too, though. All that stuff with your folks and Mags and all. You still stay gold all the way through -- don't really know how you do that." Simple, I have you, sugar... or, I do for now at least...

"Sometimes a person has to be really strong to let someone else know when they're weak." I say in a small voice, "You know, when there's something that the first person can't do or be for whatever reason. That takes a real kind of strength too because nobody wants to be weak, especially in front of somebody they love. So being able to tell that person there's a thing not in your power to do, that takes a lot of strength. But, if you don't do that, then you might end up hurting the other person worse." You can tell me, Logan... If you can't do it, you can tell me. I need you to tell me now, before I fall even more in love with you...

"Then there's the strong that lets somebody stay where it's hard. It's almost like that other one, but this one involves somebody else. The other one is mostly just about your own self....takin' what happens to you and still keepin' on going. But this kind of strong involves takin' somebody else's stuff and still keepin' on. It's the kind of strong that lets somebody know you're gonna be there, no matter what. Does that make sense?" Please let it make sense, please let me be saying this right. "Like when somebody says something that hurts you, and it's somebody that really matters to you -- you know, what they think of you or how they feel about you -- but you still stay because you know that they're hurting and that's why they said it. Or like when somebody's husband or wife is really sick and can't be who they used to be, but that person stays with them anyway and takes care of them.....and still loves them." Could you do that? Could you still love me? Even when I scream and rage and cry? Even when...

Even when I make your life hell?

"And, kind of tied up in that is being strong enough to let them find out things for themselves. Like when a parent has to turn loose of their baby and let him take his first step, even though he might fall down and hurt himself. I don't know if this is right or not, but I think that's kind of what you did when you left me here while you went looking for your past. You were kind of giving me a chance to find out what I wanted, weren't you?" And maybe... giving yourself a chance to find someone better...?

"Maybe. Want you to be sure in your own mind that things are the way you want them to be." I only ever wanted you, love... Can you say the same?

"But, Logan, what if they don't stay the way you want them to be? What if I turn out not to be what you thought after all?" I ask weakly, I know I need to just lay everything out right here and now, even though I'm nearly trembling in fear at what his answer is almost surely to be... "What if I don't ever learn to control my skin? What if the voices in my head make me say things or do things that hurt you? What if something happens down the line and........." I trail off, blinking away the tears that have welled in my eyes. No matter what he says, I won't cry... now.

When he starts laughing, I almost change my mind.

Pushing his arms down from around me, I sit up and push the blanket that had been covering us away, looking at him questioningly. I don't think there's anything funny about what I am...

"Sorry, baby. I'm not laughin' at you. You're right. It could happen. It could happen in reverse too." Never. "I'm not laughin' at you. I'm laughin' at me. Sometimes I really am that arrogant ass that everybody thinks I am. God, that's exactly one of the things I love about you, Marie. You always surprise me and make me see things different. And people think I'm complicated!''

Okay, now I really don't understand. Is he okay? Why is he smiling?

"Darlin', I just figured out what you're trying to ask me. Or, at least I think I have and the only reason it struck me as funny was because it's just the opposite of what I been tryin' to do." He says, and I still find myself at a loss.

"What do you mean?" I ask, looking up at him hesitantly.

"You're askin' if it's gonna last, aren't ya? Wantin' to know if what I feel for ya is gonna fade away, if I'll get tired of being with ya. Look, Marie, ya gotta understand something. I know that you've been left a lot. Your parents let ya down. They weren't there for ya when ya 'em needed most. I know that ya might have felt that way when I left for Alkali. I swear it wasn't what I meant to happen, but I can see how ya might have felt that way."

I study my gloves in mock fascination, finding myself unable to look him in the eye. How is it that he can always see right through me? I'm gonna miss him so much...

"I want ya to look me in the eye now." He says, and I shake my head quickly. I can't, I just... I can't. But that doesn't stop him, and I find myself meeting his gaze as he lifts my chin with gentle fingers, "I came back because I love you, only you, always and ever. I'm not leaving ya again. I swear that to ya now. Doesn't matter what ya do, doesn't matter what ya say. I don't know what it'll take for ya believe that. I don't know how to prove that what I feel for ya is gonna be always. There's only one way that I can think of and that's just living it every day from here on out. I promise ya, girl, I'm not walkin' out that door ever. So, to answer your question..."

"My question?" I ask faintly, still caught up in everything he's just said. He couldn't mean it, he couldn't. Always and ever...? And it doesn't matter...? How can he know? How can he know?

"Yeah, baby. To answer the question........am I strong enough to be your man? Yes. I am."

"How can you know that?" I whisper thickly, my heart in my throat as I look at him pleadingly. I want so badly to believe...

"'Cause the one thing I'm more sure of is that I'm not strong enough not to be." He says simply, and my heart stops.

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out, and I don't even bother to stop the tears that trail their way down my face as his words sink in. He's right, there really is no way for me to be sure he's telling the truth other then just taking a chance and seeing what happens. And with the way he's looking at me right now... the way his fingers are making their way up from my chin to gently brush my tears away...

"Logan..." I whisper, my voice choked with emotion as I feel a watery smile spread across my trembling lips.

"Yeah, Darlin'?" He questions and his eyes are so unbelievably soft that I just shake my head, unable to speak, unable to find any words that would come anywhere close to what I'm feeling right now. Instead, I lean forward, bringing my scarf up between us before pressing my lips to his, kissing him almost desperately as I try to convey the maddening swirl of emotions currently inside me. He returns my kiss with equal fervor, one arm wrapping around me as his other hand slides into my hair, keeping me close to him.

Our lips part only so we can catch our breath, and I spread the scarf a little, pressing my face into his neck as he pulls me closer, his fingers stroking the small of my back. I shiver slightly and press a kiss to his collarbone before pulling back a little so I can look into his eyes.

"Take me upstairs?" I breathe against his lips, and it looks like he's the one who isn't sure he's heard correctly this time. He looks like he's about to ask if I'm sure, so I bring a gloved finger up to his lips, shaking my head slightly. "Take me upstairs, Logan," I say again, pressing myself against him and biting my lip as his eyes darken and fix on me intently. The next thing I know, he's stood up, still holding me so carefully in his arms – almost as if he were afraid I'd break if he held too tightly.

Neither of us can tear our eyes away from each other as he carries me towards the mansion, and I know that I'm ready now, ready to show him how badly I want to be with him – because he wants to be with me just as much.