She had actually made a deal with Dr. Grey. How pathetic was that?

But then again she had a feeling it would be worth it in the end.

A one hour talk with one of the few prisoners the X-Men had made. No video monitoring the conversation. No security guards. Just her and that new kid. And as a trade-off Rogue would leave first thing in the morning. Without telling anyone. Without staying in touch.

All things considered it was a fair deal. Now, with the other kid around, things would only get... trickier? Yeah, maybe that was the right word.

So she had taken off her gloves and marched into the little, sterile cell, built for rare occasions like these. Occasions in which mutants had turned loose on humans but were too dangerous or too precious to give to the authorities without a second thought.

Rogue knew she wasn’t the first to talk to the young guy, nor was she about to be the last, but this conversation would be something different entirely.

---

Rogue sat down on the chair, eyeing the walls. This room was... bright. Nothing but white walls. You didn’t even see the camera if you didn’t know where to look. The new kid had probably found it by now. He kept eyeing the relevant corner as he sat there, depreciative.

And then there was silence.

Marie’s eyes turned to the kid, and neither said anything for at least five minutes. Five precious minutes of the only opportunity Marie might ever get to do this.

It was in this silence that Marie realized she had adopted Logan’s trademark “kid”. A rather unfitting description for the one in front of her. He was young. Maybe 16. Probably a bit older. No first hints of a beard, just smooth skin, blue eyes and the evil grin he had worn since the first time he had admitted his crime.

With anyone else it would have been partly horrible, partly pathetic, and to most people it probably was. But to Marie there was an underlying fascination. Something she needed to figure out before she left for good.

Still, for this to get anywhere, he needed to make the first move. She needed a hint, just a small sign, that he knew answers to the question most important to her. So she waited. There was more silence until finally the boy… Robert… was done eyeing her, unnerved by the seemingly endless procession of people going in and out, asking the same questions over and over again.

They might not have broken him yet, but he got weaker.

After eight minutes he finally blurred: “Yes, I killed him. I killed my own father. So which part of the story did you come to hear?”

There was an unfriendly stare in his eyes, a tiredness that everyone gets after 34 hours of no sleep at all. Marie could have brought along some coffee but she came to know from experience that at this point it only helped to make matters worse. So instead she would polish up all her southern beauty, polish her accent, try to look charming and hope to get what she wanted soon.

“I have a number of questions. The most pushing probably would be the ‘why?’, wouldn’t it?” Marie tucked the white streak of hair behind her ear and smiled as warmly as she could.

“I felt like it.”

“Just like that? You expect me to believe you?”

“Look, just because you have always been dad’s little angel...”

It was at this point Marie gave one of her rather unfeminine snorts. It only dawned on her that she had actually made the sound when he started to stare. Yeah, well... not like she planned, but that was the door she had been hoping for. She just had to give it a shot.

“First of all, I don’t have a father. I have a genitor. Not more and not less. That thing stopped being my father when he said that he’d rather impale me on a hook and watch me slowly bleed to death as well as feed the remains to our dogs, than feed a ‘thing’ like me and tolerate it’s existence under his roof. As far as I know even with this story I am better of then most kids here. Especially now. He died two weeks ago and wasn’t worth a tear. Now who is bad ass?”

She didn’t blink. She didn’t have to. She meant it. He was dead and it was nothing to her. Not after everything else that had happened. There was only one person in her eyes who was still family. And she hadn’t seen him for years.

“So you’re telling me you know what the world is like?” The sarcasm was thick in his words.

“Well, you tell me you do?”

There was the silence again. This time Marie broke it.

“People round here are going to tell you I almost died three times. Truth is it was almost six, but who is counting? Official versions round here are that I got stabbed in the chest three times at once, got chained to a death machine on top of lady liberty and I fell out of a flying jet. The other three times I’d rather keep to myself. So, can you keep up?”

“So you’ve been hurt and survived and I should bow my head before you? That fucker molested me for at least three years. Ever since my mother died. This mutation was the biggest blessing I could stumble upon. No one is ever going to hurt me again.”

“Yeah, and no one is ever going to touch you again. No hug’s. No friendly handshake. No more skin on skin contact of any kind at all. People are going to keep their distance just as if you have some kind of leprosy.”

It was the way of her voice, the grim look, the bitterness behind it that made Robert look at her with new found curiosity.

“You aren’t about to tell me that you too....?”

He left the question hanging in the air. But really, what was there to answer?

“Seems like we didn’t get an as unique mutation as we thought we did.”

There was a moment of conspirative smiles, being hidden again right away, both trying to check the waters.

“Why would they send someone with my abilities to do a grilling on me?” A questioning look that would have made Logan proud.

“I am not really here to question you about you dad.” The southern accent and a woman’s charm.

“But you know everything else. The power that flows into you...” Him daring her to continue.

“...every secret they ever had being laid out for you to use as you please....” Her remembering.

“...locking them in yourself, showing them how weak they really are...” His memory of power.

“...breaking even the strongest man in seconds.” Her admission of the great sin.

They looked at each other. There were no more words needed. The temptation of the kill. They both knew it. She had made it into the freak show by hiding her nature; he was on the way to prison or worse, because to him it was the only way out of a fate much worse.

There were only looks this time. And another long silence, before Marie finally mustered up the courage to ask the one question that had driven her to come down here.

“How old are you?”

Another long pause before he said as casually as possible “People take me for 16.”

“Me too.”

More silence. No more words. All the parts she had bared of herself, it had been all for nothing. She should have known it. After all he was still bragging about his father.

When it became clear that there were no more words to be said, Marie moved to stand up. And if it had not been for the super sensitive hearing she inherited from Logan that still popped up every now and then, she would have totally missed the “24” being mumbled behind her back.

“32!” And with a happy grin she sat down and almost couldn’t stop the outburst of words, flowing from her. “How did you get along looking under-aged? Fake ID? Fake school certification? Job applications? Orphanage? Family and friends? Thieving?”

There was that cocksure grin on his face again. “There is a much easier way out of this. You tell me you didn’t know?”

“And that be what? Living from the air you breathe?” She grinned, all too eager on that conversation.

“Oh come on, you know.” He turned a challenging look at her hands.

And she did. It was something she never dared to do. Especially not on Xavier’s grounds, but she knew that there was a way. Going bare handed through the crowded streets. A swift touch here, a small touch there. Minutes, maybe hours, stolen from people who did not feel more then a short electric rush and that was that. You could live from things like that, but you could also get the worst of the worst and catch something you really did not want. It required a good eye, some instincts, hunting your prey. Turning into a vampire in the middle of the night. The contacts too swift to take in anything personal, just energy.

“There has to be something more secure.” Rogue looked at him, challenging, hoping that he might really come up with something better.

“Nothing is as good as the pie you found here, but honestly, living on the streets isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“What if you want to settle?”

“What’s hindering you?”

“Not being officially legal? No paper, no certificate, nothing to prove I am who I am.”

“These things can be made. It takes a little cash of course, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” And by the look in his eyes she just knew that he would offer her every paper she could ever need should she ask for it. But there was a problem with that. The good stuff cost money she did not have and the bad could blow your cover any moment.

Robert eyed her with even more interest, wondering aloud “What did you do to get through?”

Marie grinned slightly at the memory. “Playing the new neighbor, recently moved in, fresh from school, with the certificate to prove it, trying to get a job, moving again and again and again, till the papers became to outdated enough to seem to fit me for real... No matter how many 12 year olds are trying to look like 20 and manage to do so none the less, they always eye you skeptical.”

“New papers, it is as easy as that.” And Marie could have sworn that he was getting the checkbook ready.

“That’s only one part of the deal. Nothing comes without a price, and I am not really willing to pay for a normal life anymore....”

There was a knowing nod before Robert gave her a once-over. “So you hoped I tell you the art of surviving just like that? You get to run and get a happily-ever-after, and what about me?”

“I did enough for you already. This conversation isn’t monitored. You can tell them what ever you like about it. You can make something up or tell them the truth. Just sell my head to the highest bidder. But by the time you get to do that I will be long gone. And by the time they figured out whether to believe you or not I will be nothing but a shadow.”

“So you run because I could blow your cover? Because my existence is enough to let them see through your charade?”

Marie snorted again. “This” and she made a gesture to everything and nothing in particular, “isn’t real. It is a dream I allowed myself because I couldn’t enjoy it the first time around. But I am growing out of it by the minute. Your appearance just made it easier to draw a line. If you want to take my advice: stay here for a little, lick your wounds, make friends, enjoy all the silly nonsense kids do these days. And when they think they finally have your wrapped around their finger, just disappear. It’s what Xavier fears the most. His soldiers getting lost to the other side of the army.”

“There’s another side?”

Marie grinned. “There always is. You are currently getting to know team we-protect-non-mutants-because-we-are-holier-than-thou. If they aren’t up your liking just join team mankind-needs-to-be-erased-in-order-for-us-to-be-free. The pay is worse and the lodging rather shabby, but they actually make all the cool plans about world domination and destruction. And if you think that both are nuts, eat as much as you can and get your ass out of the line of fire while you still can.”

Someone was knocking on the door and Marie got up, masterfully hiding her grin and her disappointment about the interruption under layers of indifference.

“It was nice getting to know you Robert.”

She even held out her hand, but he did not take it. Of course he could not seeing that his hands were chained to the chair, but be it that way.

He looked at her with an unreadable expression and when she walked to the door with that gentle sway in her steps he started whispering frantically.

“Forsake the light and go under ground. There are the ones that can really help your problem. Forsake the light and go underground. There are the ones...”

The mumbling stopped the second Marie opened the door. Of all people she had to run into Logan. But it actually was a good thing. If he was down here with the kid she could get lost just like that. She knew what she needed to. She wasn’t a freak. Deep down inside she knew that. She just needed to find a way to get back on the tracks.

She still could not believe how easy it had been.

All she had needed had been in a duffel bag right under her bed. Then she “borrowed” Scott’s bike, drove about 50 miles, emptied her entire bank account, stole another bike and off she was.

Coaxing the Logan inside her head to tell her how to ride a Harley was easier than even she would have suspected. He was all too eager to get on the road again. And just the feeling of the blowing wind was enough to keep him content before she decided to lock him away again.

Things were even easier from then on.

She couldn’t make it back to Laughin City. Too many bad memories. But she wanted Canada. Quebec would be right up her ally. After living at the mansion she needed life around her, as well as a cheap and cozy spot all for herself.

She found one 100 miles away from the city. Nice and perfect.

She hid the Harley until she was sure the place was hers, and then she just dumped the vehicle far away where no one would be looking for it anytime soon.

And as easy as that, a new chapter of her life had begun.

Breakfast in the morning, standing up whenever she felt like it, no one to comment on her outfit, no one around to make her feel like an outsider among freaks. No, for about two weeks she just took holidays from everything. She didn’t even decorate the rooms more then necessary. A duffel bag, a micro wave, an oven, a shower and a bath and a stack of books she had gotten herself on the way. She didn’t even need TV. The only other thing she purchased was a new Laptop and a box with three of her most beloved DVD’s.

Life was gorgeous.

At the end of the third week, feeling rested and relaxed and knowing that the neighbor’s might be interested in seeing the new resident every now and then, she started to go out more often.

Buying clothes was a real high.

And she even found a job.

At first it had been a joke. One of the neighbor’s asked what she did for a living. The first impulse might have been to say she inherited some money from her family, but out of the blue she found herself saying “I am one of the many who earn a living with a PC”

“IT?”

“No, translator.”

Just like that. And next thing she knew, she was checking out online pages who offered jobs like that. All of a sudden she earned her own money. It was a time-consuming job, but one that required creativity, did not involve people and she could get it done from where ever she wanted to.

Soon she discovered good places to sit in the woods or a fountain or wherever else her feet carried her.

Everything she was could be hidden just like that. At least for a while.

Of course things could not stay that easy forever. A job and a good neighborhood were too good to be true.

When her everyday life changed, it was with the worst timing possible.

There were a number of things she had never told any of the x-geeks. Some things about her past, well, rather huge part of her past, the thing about her age and a story or two about her family.

Fact was that she had someone worth going back to, and after two months in Quebec she finally found the guts to search him out.

The internet really was one of the greatest inventions of mankind: Just google up a name and chances are you find way more then the relevant person wants a stranger to know. And before long Marie came up with a rather clear idea of where to find her cousin.

After that it was only a matter of bravery, mustering up the courage to call, ask how he was... all the things worth talking about. And one phone call later he was all but packing his bag and heading in her direction.

They came face to face almost too fast for either of them to believe that this was real. And it was a small shock for Marie to see him after such a long time. He was mid 30, had nurtured a small mustache and unlike many others it actually suited him. His hair was short and lightly tinged with gray, which obviously took a really patient hairdresser, because he wasn’t old enough for this to be natural. And the comfy clothes in brown and beige colors really looked good on him. At least he was still skinny like hell.

And while she still tried to close the gap in her mind between the person she had once known and the one standing before her, his jaw practically dropped as he realized that she almost hadn’t changed at all.

There was a moment of awkward silence, neither of them sure how to make the first step.

Then, out of the blue, he stepped forward to hug her like the long lost relative she was, and just like that, things turned right between them again.

And here they were, walking the city streets, talking about things past. Marie told about the school and about being a translator, he talked about being a handcrafter and all the little family stories that had happened in-between.

But the best about this, the absolutely and completely best was that Marie had finally someone she could touch without fear. Yes, she did know how to do that. But she couldn’t force it. It was all about trust. If she trusted someone enough without the shadow of a doubt, then her touch could not harm him. She knew Patrick practically since the day she was born. They had been living next to each other, and over that time he had taken as many of her beatings as she had taken of his.

Trust was easy on a base like that.

So she just enjoyed the little normality she got, hugging his arm, holding his hand, walking around or eating ice cream in a café near by.

Life was wonderful, and things could have continued that way just a little longer, if Logan had shown up two or three days later, if Patrick had not been there to open the door and wake up to the sight of claws first thing in the morning…

Woken by the havoc, Marie stumbled into the living room sleepily. It was kinda hard to mistake that spiky haircut for anyone else but Logan. He was currently trying to pummel her cousin into revealing whereabouts of Rogue. To Patrick’s credit, he had not said anything this far. Probably because he didn’t really know who Rogue was.

With an exaggerated sigh and remarkable sarcasm she cut into the scene before her. “Good morning Logan. How I missed waking to you mistreating the innocent. Well, obviously you are feeling fine, with a display of so much energy this early in the morning” And with narrowed eyes she added. “Get lost or retract your claws and have some coffee. I don’t care either way. But get your hands of Patrick before I make you.”

Her cousin looked flabbergasted. “You know that freak?”

“Watch it, bub.” Logan almost growled. And turning, “Who is this sorry excuse of skin?”

Ignoring Logan and smiling sweetly to Patrick, Marie answered, “We used to introduce him as our art teacher. As you can see his art is more… martial. Coffee? Or something stronger to go with this?”

He gave her a look that clearly suggested something stronger. Marie made her way to the kitchen and over her shoulder she asked, “Now Logan: coffee or out? It’d be kinda nice if you make up your mind before I brew the stuff.”

She heard the sound of his claws retreating and for the moment that had to be enough.

The two guys did what guys do best, just sit down in frosty silence, waiting for the other to respect their territory. Patrick stretched on the couch and Logan did his best to throw dark stares that would eventually mark him as Marie’s protector.

Marie knew that it would have been cute to watch, if her hands would not shake so badly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She had planned to send a letter to Logan, telling him about all the needs for freedom a 16 year old could have, and to hand a more truthful letter to Patrick when the time to part and move on finally came.

Quebec was nothing but a nice holiday before she found a place to settle down for sure. She liked her translator job and intended to keep it, but as a mutant the safest thing she could do was to get lost in the wilderness, find a little cabin somewhere far from the civilization, making trips to the world every now and then. But she had not planned for that moment to come so soon.

She knew what would happen. Taking her time, she knew what she would have to face the moment she got out there again.

And things weren’t about to go smooth either.

Logan had no idea what that guy was doing here, but he was way too old and way too cocksure to be any good for a girl like Marie. It was all over him, in the way he sat, trying to mark his territory, when in fact Marie could throw him out any moment and Logan would be all too glad to help. All that false confidence made him sick. As if that guy wasn’t scared shitless after facing his claws.

And then there was that nagging suspicion on the back of his head. What if?

He still was not sure what to make out of all the things that kid had told him. About the power to touch and kill or steal time. About relating those things to his Marie. About believing that she could not only do that but that she might have done that already. Fooling him and everyone else all too easily. Was she really just a fake going back to where she felt she rightfully belonged? Maybe to that guy?

He had to know.

With the darkest stare he could muster he tried to pin that guy to the sofa, adding a threatening note to his voice. “So who are you?”

Patrick returned the stare unmoved. “I am more curious as to who you are. Obviously no teacher. No man in his right mind would allow someone with your... temper…to be anywhere near kids.” There was a moment of silence, before he continued with a challenging tone. “And I don’t like psychopaths hanging out with Marie”

“If it wasn’t for me she wouldn’t be alive now. I’m a friend. One of the best she has. So what are you to her?”

“What ever she needs me to be.”

“Don’t you think you are a little to old to even consider sleeping with a 16 year old? Least of all Marie?” There was a warning note in Logan’s voice that was loud enough to be heard in the entire house.

Marie made a hasty appearance, coughing a little too obviously, glaring at Logan. Well, when this was over she would definitely need to search for a new home. There was no way she would live down such a story anytime soon. And the talking part had not even started yet.

Patrick turned a questioning look to her. “Marie, why would this guy be thinking you are 16?”

She set down the tea tray on the table, sat down right beside Patrick and said with the best matter of fact voice she could muster, “That would be because I didn’t have the heart to correct his assumption.”

“And how would he come to assume so in the first place?”

There was a slight trace of red on her cheeks as she continued. “Well, probably because I have been using that lie quite a lot lately.”

Logan still tried to wrap his mind around it. She had been lying. The “how old are you?” question, still hanging on his lips sounded rather flat.

“32” And just like that she had said it. It was only then that Patrick turned to her, adding quietly, “34, Marie.”

She looked questioning for a moment. “Oh, right. Did my best to forget two of those years.”

There was the hint of a pained smile that made Patrick lay his arm around her almost instantly. And for the first time at a rather long while Logan found himself lost for words. A part of him had been prepared for this. Maybe he had expected a frightened little voice admitting that there were things he should know, but not to come here and have her act like it was no big deal. As if age made no difference. And it dawned on him that to her it might not.

Patrick used his other hand to pour a rather healthy dose of rum into his coffee. Logan eyed the bottle contemptuous. That was the downside of his mutation. He didn’t get drunk unless he made an effort, and even the entire bottle would not be enough to let him forget about the weirdness factor of all this.

Beside the fact that Logan’s instinct to run was trying to get the better of him, he started to feel the first cloud of sympathy toward the guy as Patrick spoke out loud what Logan had only thought that far.

“I have the nagging suspicion that I am about to hear something I am not going to like.”

Marie gave a tired smile but this time the movement betrayed her age. She still acted like Logan wasn’t there at all. She just spoke to Patrick as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “You were the one that told me that I am too brutally honest for my own good. That I could have a much easier time, should I just get around to using all the little lies everyone else delivers so well. I mastered that art by now.”

“And how many of the things you told me were true?” Patrick eyed her over his pot of coffee.

“Well, quite a lot actually. Boarding school is one of the closest words you can use for Xavier’s place. It’s just that I did not get there right after I left home. I was there the last two years and only started to become an interpreter a few weeks ago.”

Her cousin nodded. “That leaves a gap of 12 years for me. How much does your friend know?” Patrick indicated with his chin into Logan’s direction and both actually started to stare when Marie answered, “The last two years, nothing beyond that.”

“You didn’t even tell him why you ran away? How did you explain that away?”

Marie just shrugged. “You’d be surprised. They hear the same story over and over again. Just say what everyone else says: ‘My mutation manifested and the people surrounding became scared of me, so I ran before they did something to me or my parents.’ Just add a slight tremble of the lip and some watery eyes every time you say Mom or Dad’s name and, woho, there is your membership certificate.”

Patrick nodded at that. “So basically your friend over there knows nothing at all.”

Marie nodded too. And before any of this got any further Logan’s claws extended, basically shredding the table. “Anyone going to clue me in anytime soon?”

Marie got up, excusing herself to the bathroom, and Patrick gave a rather tired sigh the second the door closed after her. Turning to Logan he answered. “Listen. I have no idea who you are or how you came to know her. But this” and he was pointing toward the bathroom door, “is your one and only opportunity out. I don’t know what you guys saw of her, but the first time she kissed a boy, he became comatose.”

“We know that.”

“Did you know that this wasn’t the real problem? He had Asthma. It was explained away just like that. An attack at an inappropriate moment, and you can think for yourself what people thought about how this came to be. Neither of them ever officially denied it, but with all the questions Marie asked me afterwards she eventually had to spill the beans. She had seen everything of this kid. All his thoughts. All his memories. All the dirty things a randy boy in puberty wants to do to a girl. I tried my best to help her through it and after some struggling she seemed to get a hold on things from one day to the next. I never asked how, but things seemed fine for a while. That was till the boy started to age right in front of our very eyes. And I don’t mean growing up and getting a beard. He physically aged ten years in about a month. 120 years in 356 days.“

Patrick looked at Logan, provoking.

“His body gave in halfway through.”

How ever he had expected Logan to react, there were no tell tale signs that the man even registered what had just been said. Patrick mustered the other man’s face for almost a minute, and couldn’t detect a single muscle moving. Little did he know that Logan just wasn’t ready to apply this knowledge to himself, to figure out what it could mean for him, to go and think of his Marie so lowly, when in fact he had a number of reasons to do so.

Instead Patrick just reached for his cup and continued talking.

“You’ve got to see; the word mutant wasn’t that well known back then, but people started to whisper. The whole thing had taken two years. He had died. And she? It seemed like she had not aged a bit. None of the tale tell signs that she was going to enter womanhood had developed any further. Arguments started. Things got nasty when her father called her a whore and a witch. But what hit her the hardest were people calling her a murderer.”

“I think she would have stayed if it wasn’t for her father. I mean, she was crashing at my place rather regularly back then. Things are bearable when you have at least one person at your side. But the last straw was when her own father called the army on her. Things got REALLY bad then. I mean, I know it sounds stupid, but it’s the truth. Normally you can’t just ask the Army to get such things done, but her dad called in some personal favors. She got to know of it. And before I could even start to figure out a way to help her she was gone. Just gone. Took most of my money with her, but it was fine in the end. She made it, right? Never really believed she would. But how ever she managed it, I am sure it was a hard way. And unless she really has a good reason to trust you I suggest that you get lost this very minute.”

To be entirely honest, she felt like sinking into a corner, hugging her knees and crying her eyes out. But that wasn’t the least like the 32 year old she was trying to be. She had been through so much and it had been okay, because in all that time she rarely ever looked back. But she knew what Patrick had to be telling Logan right now, and she did not want to be known like that.

It wasn’t for all the ideals that Xavier had tried to implant in her and the others. And it wasn’t about Logan, because as soon as this was over she would pack her stuff and get lost right away. It was about re-living all the things that could have broken her back then.

Just take the first guy she ever kissed.

Yes, all the sexual ideas had been new and shocking to her, but she wasn’t entirely stupid either. Back then she
had known what sex was like. At least in theory.

The thing that had made it so hard was the fact that this kid had been the first one she had ever allowed into her skull. She took everything back then. Not thinking, not really caring. And he had stayed. Not only where his likings a constant reminder of what she had done to him. It was that his personality inside her head was determined that she should make it up.

He wanted her to touch herself. As well as a number of other things she wasn’t really prepared for.

Her cousin had tried to help as much as he could, but in the end she had to solve it herself.

His demands had started to consume her. Not only did they take up time and forced her to do things she did not really want to, she also started to lose her own personality under the pressure to live his.

So what could she do?

She had killed him. Every last bit. Just shown him that this was her head and her life. His body lived on. And she had no reason to feel guilty.

Out of nowhere she had started to turn into a monster. She had shown him that he could not move a muscle without her permission. And then she had withdrawn that permission. She had withdrawn him the right to move, the right to speak, to think, yes, even to be present.

Just like that she had killed the spirit and soul of someone who accidentally had become a part of her. It wasn’t right. Not if you asked God about his opinion. And the process gave her a one week long headache.

But then it was over. And it was over for good.

---

Logan had listened. There was that challenging stare in that man’s eyes, daring him to stand up, to go while he still could.

Logan had stood up. But he didn’t head for the exit. He knocked at the bathroom door.

“Get out of there, kid.”

When Rogue opened the door she could see Patrick leave through the front door. Her head turned to the table violently and sure enough there was an envelope. Well, not really. It was more like a folded note, light and paper-thin as she picked it up.

“I am sorry Marie. I don’t know when you were planing to show me the envelope or if at all, but I found it two days ago. And I am not sure how much of it to believe or not. But when you left I thought you broke your promise. After reading all this stuff it feels hollow to say I’ve broken mine. The doc said I might have six months till it gets ugly. And I really wanted to see you before then, though I wasn’t even sure if you were still alive. I am glad you still manage to keep your life on track. You managed yours far better then I did mine. I’m sorry I said nothing. Maybe I should have. But you know where to find me.”

On the back stood in a way hastier scribble.

“I am not judgmental, but I guess you might want to tell it to him in private. All the best to you sunshine. And honestly: never return home.”

Logan grunted in annoyance, tempted to catch that idiot, when the fact that Marie didn’t do anything caught up with his brain.

“What was that fucker all about?”

“That, Logan, was my cousin. He is the only person I could ever touch without anyone getting hurt. He just wanted me to know that he has a terminal disease. We probably won’t meet again. Therefore I am glad he took this as a parting visit.”

“What...?”

“What he has? Nothing, he’s just HIV positive.”

Logan had wanted to say something honest. Something heartfelt and up-lifting, but really, what was there to say? He could not even muster up the courage to ask her for the rest of the story. And honestly, did he need it?

Well, probably yes, but not as much as she needed some comfort. Unfortunately that wasn’t something he ever gave that easily. Besides, a goofy hug could not replace the encouragement only a family member could give. And for an odd reason he couldn’t muster up the courage for that either.

Not knowing what else to do he looked at her questioningly. “What now?”

It was strange, really. He had followed her, hunted her down, figured out where to search for her, but the moment he set a foot into the flat he had lost control over everything. He would have willingly excepted almost every explanation she could’ve come up with, but every time he thought she was about to admit something his mind almost shut down on its own. Though a part of him needed to, he did not really want to know the answers to the questions he came to ask. Not now that it became clear that she could destroy his entire picture of her in the blink of an eye.

“I don’t know about you, sugar, but I intend to pack my stuff and hand the landlady my notice of termination. After you accused my cousin of being a pedophile for all the neighbors to hear, I don’t think I want to stay around and come up with a cover.”

Deep down inside he knew he would let her pack and leave just like that. Standing in the way as little as possible, not offering to carry anything. Just watch the last traces of a ghost disappear from his life. Because he’d rather keep the memories of her he had, than replace them with something worse.…wouldn’t he?

In his dull musing it took him a little moment to register that she had stopped doing what ever she had been about to do, and looked in his direction.

“Can I ask you something, Logan?”

She just continued when he did not respond.

“Why are you here? I mean, did Xavier send you to get back one of his soldiers? Are you here pretending to care just because you once said you would? Or is it just some sick fascination, trying to figure out what I am about to turn into?”

There was no accusation in her voice, and the indifference with which she said these things was even more eerie to Logan than everything else that had happened so far.

“I just needed to see it before I could believe, that...”

“That I am a monster?” Grinning she turned to pack. “That kid really sold my head to get some free lodging, huh? Bright fellow. I knew he would.” But there was a angry note in her voice when she continued. ”You know Logan, if you had been around a little more often, you would have gotten that insight even back at Westchester. People treaded lightly around you, but they avoided me entirely. They knew that in the end I am far worse then you are.”

“Marie, that is not true.” There it was, his last hope: denial.

“Really? I tell you a little secret then: Marie is dead. She did not have what it takes, and when a truck driver thought himself clever, demanding to be paid ‘in natural goods’ she could not have fought him. So first I had to kill her, and then I killed him. That guy was a giant, but the last words he ever said were a pathetic cry for his mommy. So let’s face it Logan, we’re the same. Won’t say I did not learn big chunks from the you inside my head. But we are both monsters. And you never got to know Marie. So don’t pretend to feel sorry for her. All that is left is me is Rogue. And it will be so till the day I die.”

Rogue had started to collect some items while she spoke. There were already a small pile of documents on top of her laptop and she was about to move to get some clothing.

“But why did you never say anything?”

Marie paused at the door and, for the first time since the whole thing started, Logan spotted a hint of sadness.

“You didn’t nearly die to save a murderer. You did it for an innocent girl who had her whole life in front of her. Afterward everyone told me to cherish the gift you gave me. Even Scott once went so low as to use it to persuade me to learn harder. And in the end they were right. I did honor it by keeping my mouth shut.”

“But you don’t have the slightest idea what you are leaving behind. I could have helped you.”

“Don’t worry about that Logan, we already made a deal. It’s just that you are ignorant of it.”

He gave her one of his patented eye-brow-raises, which probably would have worked if Marie had not used the opportunity to get some clothes and a backpack from her bedroom. So instead he had to shout.

“What do you mean by this?”

“Just what I said. You and I made a deal. You” she was tapping her temple at that “will help me to get through and in return I won’t use any of your secrets against you.” Her finger pointed to him now.

A wry grin crossed his face. “Good to know that I am at least of some help. But are you aware of the fact that these things will get outdated one day?”

“Don’t worry. I kept your wits alive. I am counting on you to get through.”

“What else did you keep alive?”

Marie paused, straightening up. Logan could sense that she wondered how much to tell. And the smell told him that in the end she settled for honesty.

“The first time I only took your powers and the thoughts foremost in your mind. The second time I was not prepared. So I guess I took pretty much everything, save of your life force.”

“You didn’t kill me off right away?”

“Logan, you pretty much wreaked havoc in there. It is a miracle you didn’t kill me. After all the Wolverine does not like to be caged.”

And just for a second things seemed right again. This was the girl he had almost died to protect. She had her wits, her humor, and she was able to tell friends from foes, at least on some level. If he accepted that she was 34, it was not his place to patronize her anymore, even if he still was decades older.

He had not been fooled by a monster, nor had she been kidnapped, even if it still shocked him how easy she took these things. Not that any of his murders weighted him down, but he had never really thought she had it in her. And no matter how much she killed, with all the things he had done in his time, he could not condemn someone who only wanted to survive.

But with all these things checked, that annoying bastard gone and his instinct to run or kill finally ebbing away, there finally was space for another thought of his. And he wasn’t really sure how to approach that one.

“Look, kid... I mean, Marie.”

“I told you she is gone.”

“Rogue?”

“What?”

“I know it is not really my business, but how do you plan to get through? You’re not really the type to always be on the run.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll use the Logan way: a small cabin somewhere really solitary. I have a job now. Only problem will be to find something that is still in reach of at least some civilization, so I can have at least some life and people around me.”

“And any other master plans? I mean, not that you can obviously... touch?”

“Don’t be stupid Logan. I can’t. I tried it once on Bobby. It does not work. Xavier had all his high theories about me craving touch too much and all that nonsense. Truth is, I would need to trust that someone And really, with my history, how could I?” There was another of her laughs, and this time there was a lot of humor in it.

“On the other side, Bobby wasn’t the best lab rat either. Did you know he only dated me because one of his friends dared him into it? And then the idiot really thought he fell for me. I am lucky it only took him two weeks before he started to eye Kitty again. Things could have gotten really ugly otherwise. I mean, I wanted to be young again, not to get engaged to one of Xavier’s next generals. Least of all I wanted to spend the rest of my life in that wanna-be-military camp he calls a school. Really, sometimes I can’t stop to wonder what keeps you there. I mean free meals and a roof aren’t worth all the times you got used.”

“It’s something to call home Marie. You will miss it when you get older.”

“No Logan. All I need is a place for myself, a bed and a shower that even runs warm water from time to time. A TV or some DVDs, a little music and some borrowed books and you can feel home anywhere if you want. The only thing that is important is to stay there long enough for the feeling to develop.”

“Times are getting harder, kid. There will always someone who discovers you.”

“There won’t be. I am willing to take the chances.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I don’t want to kill anymore, Logan. I’m really tired of that. But if this is what it takes, I will do it. Because the only alternative we have is to be used in laboratories or in some army-bunker. I don’t have anyone but myself, ‘cause everyone else would sooner or later betray me or sell my head for his own. It is a temptation no one can resist. To avoid this I will make damn sure to be careful.”

“It does not matter how careful you are.”

“That’s why I will be living somewhere in solitude. I can’t always keep focus. But for the few hours it takes to shop and live I will have to focus on only taking the thoughts foremost in peoples head. It will be hard, but I can do that.”

“I’m not half as confident as you. But... Should you ever need anything...”

“Don’t worry Logan, I won’t bother you.”

“Feel free to, should you need it, anyway.”

They both gave a knowing smile. Rogue got the rest of her stuff ready.

Things had been good while they lasted. But they were over now. And while Logan might have wished to have used the time a little better, there was nothing that could be done about it anymore. It only took her five minutes. Her last look was to the sofa.

“What a waste of money, really.”

“Looks comfy, though.”

“You can have it if you want to, Logan. Can’t really take it with me. Not enough space on a bike, you know?”

And here the ways were to part, just like that.

As a farewell Rogue extended her bare hand.

Logan took it and this time there was no pain.