She was half asleep in the passenger seat when he found the next motel, in the middle of the day outside of Pittsburgh. He'd never seen anyone sleep so much, and he knew at least most of the time it *was* sleep--sometimes, she faked it, and he had to guess from that he hadn't been as reassuring as he'd hoped.

Oh well. Time would work on that. The sleep thing had to be residual exhaustion--in her cell at Erik's, she'd been hyper awake when not completely unconscious, scrambling back to the corners of her cell whenever the door opened. Couldn't blame her for that. Frankly, he slept badly at Erik's too. Even with Mystique, and he trusted her more than the rest put together, and not because he fucked her regularly either. She'd screw you over, but only for a good reason. He'd made sure never to give her a reason.

"Marie, wake up."

Her eyes opened, turning on him instantly. Three days of regular meals had taken away the black hollows beneath, and the bruises were clearing--doing wonders for his willingness to let her be seen in full daylight. She'd put on her gloves the day before for the first time over the bandages--the fit sucked beyond words, and he'd been thinking about finding someone who did custom glovework who could keep their mouth shut to get her something that would fit. As soon as she was healed enough, he wanted her prepared for some serious physical education, and she was already at a disadvantage from her height and what would be her healthy weight. Right now a seriously determined ten year old could take her down.

"It's--noon." She yawned, strangling it with a hand to the back of her mouth, and glanced out the windshield to confirm her opinion on the time of day, then looked back at him.

So she'd noticed he deliberately kept her out of sight during the day. He wondered if she understood why. Besides the entirety of the weirdness of someone as young as she was traveling with him. Nodding, he waited as she reached for the door handle, studying her face to see how tender her hands still were. At least two weeks to heal, he figured, probably more. If he trusted her just a little more, at this point it was a serious consideration to touch her and let her absorb some of him and get that crap healed. The wound on her arm worried him--it crossed too many important muscles and he'd need someone with medical training to look over that one. She could lose full mobility of her shoulder.

But he just didn't feel that comfortable being that completely vulnerable around her yet.

She winced a little but her palm went down when she pushed the door open and he got out, going around the back to find their accumulated luggage. She waited by the door, still curled up in Mystique's jacket, leaning against the doorframe. Still tired. Opening the door, he let her in and decided what to tell her.

So he hadn't been very forthcoming. Call it paranoia. She hadn't asked either, and he had to be curious if it was fear or simple disinterest that held her tongue on the subject.

"I'm going to get another car."

She nodded, sitting down on the cream bedspread, focusing her complete attention on him. He wasn't used to that at all, and it made him want to move, shift, something. She watched him a lot too and he'd be flattered if she didn't look like she worried he was going to hit her if she didn't walk on eggshells. He was going to have to be very, very careful with her for a little while yet. The last thing he needed was for her to get threatened enough to run or try extreme measures to get away from him. She'd attacked Creed, after all. Fear was a really big motivator. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to keep from hurting her if she got that desperate.

Yes, that was an actual consideration. He'd said he wouldn't hurt her and he meant to make absolutely sure it was ground so deeply into her she took it for granted, that it was never even a question. He couldn't afford to live with someone and have to watch his back every single second. He had enough of that at Erik's.

"Marie, you can ask questions, you know."

She flushed, looking down and he watched her hands curl into loose fists before she winced and jerked them back open and laid them carefully, palm up, on her knees. Still really tender. They'd looked like they were healing well, though, and three days of alcohol baths and topical antibiotics made sure there were no signs of infection

"Why are we changing cars?"

"Because I'm not interested in being found if Erik gets bored."

Or Creed got in a proactive mood. He'd want Marie now simply because Logan had her, and Logan didn't seriously think Erik would stop him if he took it into his head to take a cross-country journey. Logan eyed Marie, wondering if he should tell her that part or let her work it out for herself.

From the way her color suddenly drained from her face, he figured she understood the score.

"Okay." She paused, frowning a little, gaze skipping to his left and somewhere in the general range of his ear. She did that when she didn't know how he'd respond to something. "Where are we going?"

"The Pacific northwest."

The brown eyes jerked back to him and she opened her mouth, then stopped.

"What was the lesson the first night?"

She sighed softly.

"You won't hurt me, you won't hit me, and I won't do anything unwillingly."

"Go to the head of the class, darlin'." She smiled a little at the endearment and he saw the muscles in her shoulders relax a little.

"Why there and what's there?"

"It's very far from Erik and I like the ocean. I also have a place there I haven't seen in two years and am curious to see if the building is still standing."

"Why are you in the Brotherhood?" Her gaze was almost challenging and he liked her for that. Grinning, he pushed the bags inside.

"I'll get the rest of the stuff, then answer your question. Lunch is in the duffle bag."

She nodded, already moving unzip the bag beside the door and he walked back out. At least she listened. That was something. This might not be impossible. Fucking difficult, yes, but as he finished unloading and locking the camper up, he decided his instincts were right. This could work.

Coming back in, he watched her until she finished off the two sandwiches--she was eating much, much better. While she hunted for the water, he relaxed against the wall and waited for her to get resettled on the bed, before sitting beside her and turning her head. She didn't stiffen automatically at his touch, the vague tensing of her muscles quick and almost ignorable if he wasn't tuned to her so well. She probably didn't even know she was doing it.

"You're almost healed, so I can take you outside without worrying people are gonna jump in thinking I'm beating you."

She nodded--she was a smart girl.

"Lensherr pays very well. That's why I work for him."

"Oh." She waited while he pulled up her shirt and checked her back--that was going to heal very well and might not even be a visible scar. Her arm was next and he thought again about letting her absorb him. If she'd even do it. Well, she might, to get her hands back in commission, so he filed away the thought and pushed her hair back. She was really going to be a pretty girl when she got her weight back and grew up a little.

"I'm not a believer." He thought about that carefully and qualified the statement. "Erik told me something when we met. That there was a war coming, between humans and mutants. That when it came, what side I'd be on."

"He told me that too."

Logan smiled a little.

"He'd like a willing martyr." Brushing her hair back, he shook his head. "Tomorrow, you're getting your hair cut."

"Why?" She straightened, pulling away, one hand going to her head.

"And that white streak dyed out."

She frowned and pulled her hair forward, fingering the white length gently for a moment. Erik's machine was interesting--he figured the white was stress related. Made her exotic. And recognizable.

"Why?"

"Because I'd like you a little less noticeable and I'd like you to look a little older than fourteen."

Her eyes narrowed a little and he caught a hint of anger. It was cute. A feral puppy.

"I don't look fourteen."

"Twelve."

He got a snort and enjoyed the look on her face.

"Marie, how many people you met since you left home?"

She hesitated, and he could almost see the machinations going on behind her eyes--what she could prevaricate on, what she could lie about.

"Rule two," he said softly, and her gaze fixed back on him, eyes wide and very dark. "Never lie to me."

She took a long breath and nodded, looking down at her hands.

"I don't know."

"How many would remember you?"

She shivered then.

"Some might. I--I told a couple what I was, so they wouldn't--wouldn't ask for something I couldn't do."

He nodded and watched the flush spread across her face. She really didn't want to talk about this.

"Some--liked me. One tried to keep me. He--said he liked the--what I did. Knew ways to get around my mutation. Liked--strange stuff." She was so red now he hoped she'd stop soon. She could share at her own pace. He didn't need that much imagination to guess pretty accurately what she'd been doing for those months alone.

"Okay." Her expression was raw and more open than he was really prepared to deal with. Carefully, he brushed her hair back and she leaned into it almost unconsciously, eyes closing. "Then let's make sure no one recognizes you."

"Okay." Her voice was soft. He could have made it an order and he figured she'd obey, but on the other hand, a lot of what was coming would require her consent, and he'd rather her be in the habit of telling him yes, not just following orders. "I--are we staying here tonight?"

"No, we're driving tonight." With a last stroke of her hair, he stood up. "Get some sleep while I get a new truck."

"Car?"

He looked at her and saw a smile she was trying to keep on her face.

"A car, huh?"

She shrugged and the brown eyes floated away a little to the door.

"You said you didn't want Mag--Lensherr to find you. He probably expects you to get a truck."

He smiled and leaned back against the wall, rather pleased she was making the effort.

"What do you want?"

She shrugged.

"What can you get?"

"Probably a Jaguar, though that'll wipe me out a little faster than I planned."

Her gaze jerked up in surprise.

"Wow."

"I am very, very good at what I do. I don't just work for Lensherr--I just like his jobs because they're shorter." He waited for her to wince from the reminder that she'd been part of his last job, but she nodded and fell silent. "Go take a shower, then go to sleep. I'll get you a car."

"Can I drive it?" she asked softly and he chuckled.

"You wish."

---

He did get a car, actually, a used Volvo, and it surprised him that he sort of liked it. It went very fast. Also got her new boots, because hers were frankly worn out, and picked up some scissors. She still looked pretty bad and he wasn't risking her in public just yet--and in any case, where the hell would he take her to get her hair cut? He was called paranoid and was happy to admit it openly. Paranoid people survived longer.

She was asleep in a t-shirt, the sheet stretched over her hip. No sweats, just her underwear, dark hair still damp, almost covering her face. Well, the room was hot--heater was doing strange things. He checked through their belongings from habit and then turned on the TV, adjusting the volume so she wouldn't wake up, and stretched out on the bed beside her. She didn't react. She was getting used to him. She was wearing very little clothes.

Very little.

With a sigh, Logan leaned back into the bed and glanced at the phone, then pulled out his calling card and dialed a number.

Three rings, and he paused, hanging up, then called back. The second time it was picked up on the first ring.

"Wolverine."

"Lovely to hear your voice, 'Stique." He settled against the pillows, closing his eyes. She had a beautiful voice--the first thing he noticed about her in that cage four years before. Reaching down, he found the ice chest he'd brought in and picked out a beer by touch.

"Everything going well?"

Logan glanced at the sleeping girl and thought about the question.

"Well as can be expected."

"Creed's on the road."

Logan almost sighed as he opened his beer. Almost sadly predictable.

"Official or personal?"

"You can guess why. He's headed toward Mexico, considering your usual haunts." He could hear her settling on a chair, the scrape of the legs being pushed back down. "The X-Men are tracking him. He's not going to have a lot of time to do any serious searching, Logan. Cyclops is very, very good at his job. They'll probably run him to earth outside Brownsville."

"Who sent a tip to the X-Men, baby?"

"I don't like him any more than you do."

Sometimes, she could be amazingly unpredictable.

"True." Creed didn't take no for an answer very well. Mystique could take care of herself, but fighting Creed on a daily basis didn't do much for her.

"How's the little one settling in?"

"Fairy well." Logan thought about that. "She's easy to get along with."

"Are you sleeping with her?"

Logan almost growled.

"Raven--"

Her low laugh was amused.

"She's not eighteen, is she?"

Sometimes, he hated that she knew him that well.

"Seventeen."

"Perfect sense. You draw lines and say you won't do this, won't do that, this far and no further. I should have known you'd have sexual hang-ups as well."

Logan wasn't even going to answer that one.

"Are you training her for us or for yourself?"

"For her." At least, he was mostly honest there. "Because I'm bored. Because nothing else interesting has come along in fucking years and she's interesting."

"She'll be extremely powerful if she learns to control her mutation."

Yeah, he'd been thinking about that too.

"So what do you need, Logan? Besides an up-to-date on Creed's whereabouts?"

Logan grinned and stretched a little.

"I need a doctor and someone who can do custom glove work."

He heard her shift, the phone changing hands as she thought.

"Touch her."

"Raven, much as I like her, I don't trust her not to do something--"

"If she runs, would you go after her?"

Logan shifted on the bed, thinking about it. That was an easy one he didn't want to admit yet. Raven was smart, though. She'd know the answer even if he lied.

"Yes."

"And you won't sleep with her."

"Raven--"

She sighed.

"You don't understand women, Logan. Sex is binding--women take that seriously, especially their first lover."

"You still remember your first lover?"

"Yes." Her voice was soft. "After I killed him, I kept one of his bones as a souvenir of how stupid it is, how love can screw you over."

He'd add his complete accord to the end of that last statement. He wondered what that boy had done to piss her off.

"I wouldn't be her first lover."

"You'd be the first she enjoyed, the first she liked, the first that risked something for her. She's very young. She'll take sex very seriously. You're very good at it."

All true. Didn't change anything, though. He heard her sigh over the phone.

"But you won't do it that way. So. You know her mutation. She absorbs physical mutations. She also absorbs personalities. Erik managed to block a little when he was letting her absorb him, so she wouldn't take too much of him into herself other than his power. When you touch her, she'll take the healing and she'll take you. It should make it easier to handle her if she has some of you within her. An interior voice of reason, if you will."

That was interesting. Logan relaxed into the blanket and automatically checked Marie's breathing and heartbeat, as he did every few minutes. Still asleep. Waking soon, though.

"Erik never explained that."

"Erik explains little. He is interested in seeing what you do with her--her potential, should learn control, is possibly greater than any mutant living."

That he knew. Looking at her now, though, it seemed rather incongruous. She looked small and helpless and delicate. Protective instincts, he thought, resigning himself to the fact that sometimes his subconscious was better at this sort of thing than his conscious mind.

"How long a touch before her mutation kicks in? I never watched to see."

"Two seconds. Hold for no more than three or four--that should be enough to absorb your healing and your surface thoughts."

Well, that answered one question. No doctor necessary.

"So where do I go to get her fitted up?"

"Gloves, I suppose?"

"If I'm going to work with her, she's going to need full range of motion, and the gloves are going to fuck up her sensitivity anyway in hand to hand. Other things too--with her skin, she'll need other things."

"Not things for use in bed."

"Raven--"

"Lines in the sand, Logan. You might ask how long until she's eighteen. Never mind. I'll mail you the information when I find it--Washington state, correct?"

He didn't ask how she knew, just smiled.

"Yeah." Marie was waking up--her eyes opened on him and she automatically went stiff, then relaxed and let herself wake up more slowly. He reached out and ruffled her hair, seeing the little smile cross her lips. "You know the address."

"I'm the only one that does. I'll meet you there in a few months, should you still be in residence. There are things I can teach her that you cannot."

Logan straightened--he hadn't anticipated that. There were possibilities in that.

"Would Erik let you go?"

He could almost see her moue of distaste. Erik watched her more than any of them. Logan wasn't sure why and had never gotten a clear answer from Raven.

"Only if he knows. He's going to Israel--when he does, Mortimer will accompany him. I'll leave and find you."

In all honesty, it wasn't the worst idea he'd ever heard in his life and considered.

"That'll work."

"Good."

He hung up the phone and Marie lifted herself on one elbow, wincing when her hands brushed the pillow. Leaning down, he took one of her hands and turned it over, looking at the bandages. A little blood had seeped through, but much less than the day before.

"Still hurt?"

She shrugged a little.

"When Erik touched you, how much of his personality did you get?"

Marie straightened so abruptly that she almost toppled, and Logan was glad he'd picked up the habit of always wearing gloves since they'd started this little trip. Catching her shoulder, he straightened her up, making sure not to jostle her hands or her arm.

"A little." Her voice was soft.

"All three times?"

Marie took a breath.

"He--used his power. Somehow. To block a little. That's what he told me."

"Okay." Took a breath, thought about what Mystique said. She was right. "Does it hurt you when you absorb someone?"

The startled brown eyes flew up to meet his, searching.

"You want to heal me."

"Smart girl."

She flushed a little, then settled herself into the pillow.

"You trust me that much?"

In all honesty, no. But her hands were slow in healing and he had a bad feeling they might not ever be good as new. Not to mention her arm. Watching her, he tried to decide on whether to be straight with her.

"Rule number two, honesty, right?" she murmured, and he couldn't help smiling at her.

"Actually, you be honest, never said anything about me. But no, I don't, not completely." She accepted that, head tilting down, and he reached out and lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. "This might help with that too."

"Oh." Her hands flexed in her lap and he saw a pained expression cross her face. "If--I can't control it. I don't--I'm not sure I wouldn't hurt you accidentally. Erik could---Erik could hold on for awhile, but I don't--don't think you could." She bit into her lip and stared at him with naked fear. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Then don't. Come here."

She lifted herself onto her knees, and the sheet fell, revealing green underwear and nothing else. Logan's brain said seventeen and shut down the thoughts instantly, relegating them to the back of his mind. He *really* didn't want her to pick that up.

"What'll happen?" This was the reason he should have been watching Marie pull her little trick more closely, but frankly, he just hadn't been interested. He was interested now.

"When I touch you, it'll--open something up between us. You'll--I'll get a--a wave of your power and--and you."

"Should I lay down?"

She blew out a breath, thinking about it.

"Yeah."

Logan made himself comfortable against the pillow and watched her shift uncomfortably. She really didn't know how to do this. She trusted herself even less than he trusted her. In the short term, that wasn't a particularly bad thing, especially for him. In the long run, though, it could get her killed. Without thinking about it too clearly, he reached for her, pulling her over his body, until long hair fell against his face. She made a startled sound, hands going out to brace on either side of his head, then she winced again. The brown eyes were terrified.

"You can do this," he told her, pushing her hair back from his face and looking into the dark eyes.

Nodding, she straightened, long legs settling on either side of him as she looked down. This could be suggestive. It definitely had merit. He half-wished he didn't have scruples. She took a breath, letting it out slowly, flexing her hands and biting her lip when the healing flesh pulled.

"Think how nice it'll be to be able to use your hands again."

She smiled then, a real smile, the first he'd gotten out of her that didn't look like she was trying humor him.

"I'm scared."

"I know."

She had no idea how to do this--frankly, he didn't either. Bare skin had to touch, though, and the thought occurred to him so quickly he reacted before his scruples got in the way. Sliding his gloved hand into her hair, he pulled her down and kissed her.

She tasted sweet, salty--she'd bitten into her lip again and reopened the scab, and her blood was metal-sharp on his tongue when he licked across her lip. Her response was instant, and instinctive, before he felt the draw, reaching deep into his bones and pulling through his mind. It was like pain.

He understood exactly why Erik looked so shaken after this happened.

God. Dear *GOD*.

He felt her jerk back, catching herself on his chest, breathing out in a rush of sound and her low growl that was just--just a little too surreal, and then the gloved hands against his face.

"Logan? Logan, you okay? Logan!"

He let out a slow breath, trying to decide if he was. He wasn't going to move anytime soon, that was for certain. He ached in ways that he had never known existed, but all things considered, it wasn't any worse than landing on his back after a fifteen story jump or so.

"Fine," he whispered, and her head went down, a soft sigh against his throat, and he felt her hair under his chin, her face against his chest.

"We got a Volvo," she murmured.

"Yeah."

They didn't move for a very long time.