Logan was not alone in the darkness. She was there. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her.

“You tried to fuckin’ kill me!” he growled at her.

He imagined he heard the tinkling of laughter.

“No!” she hissed back at him.

He could hear her through the darkness too.

“Not kill you. I only wanted a taste.”

“A Taste!?” The animal was roaring at her now, claws itching to be released. “I’ll give you a lot more than a damn taste bitch!”

She was hissing and spitting at him now, a hell cat ready to scratch out his heart.

He couldn't find any physical form, but he hurled himself in her direction, bent on destruction. She met him eagerly as they collided. He reached out with hands that were not there, grabbing at her, wanting to lock her down, crush her against him, drive a fist through her, and drive himself deep inside her.

She latched on, wrapping herself around him. He clawed at her; she snapped back and tightening her hold, pulled him towards the surface.

*****

Logan blinked, trying to block out the harsh fluorescence of the med-lab. He knew where he was, even in a state of semi-consciousness. Same antiseptic smell, cold and detached no matter how homey they tried to make it; he hated the fucking place.

He felt hands on him; massive paws but steady nonetheless. Hank. He caught a distinct scent close by, a complex blend that changed continually but with a lingering thread of citrus. The Professor.

Then he caught a whiff of someone else. She was there. Close by. She was heavily covered with synthetic smells and a myriad of other, conflicting scents, but it was her alright. Rogue. He'd know that scent anywhere.

Logan groaned audibly.

"Easy Logan."

That was Chuck - but was he speaking out loud or inside his head?

~In your head Logan.~

~What the fuck is going on?~

~I said, take it easy Logan.~

~You take it easy, old man. What the hell happened? What's wrong with her? She was gonna kill me.~

~We don't know that for certain.~

~Well it sure as hell felt like it. Where is she?~

~Wake up Logan. See for yourself.~

He forced his eyes opened, squinting against the brightness. Turning his head to the side, he looked directly into the face of Charles Xavier. The calm, and sometimes stoic, founder of the X-Men actually looked shaken as he nodded towards the bed on the other side. Logan rolled his head over to see Rogue lying within five feet of him. Much like him, she'd been cleaned, dressed cotton pants and top, attached to sensors, and covered in a blanket from the waist down. The difference being, she was restrained. Metal cuffs locked her wrists to the bed while a thick belt, strapped across her waist, secured her middle. She appeared to still be unconscious and the thin collar remained around her neck, winking its one red eye.

Regardless of what had transpired, Logan wasn't crazy about seeing her treated in a way so similar to the hell hole from where they'd rescued her.

"What's with all the hardware?" he managed, coming fully alert and more pissed off by the second.

"She tried to attack Dr. McCoy when she regained consciousness," the Professor Xavier said coolly.

Logan rolled his neck as he sat up and watched Hank McCoy remove her sensors. "She doesn't know who her enemies are - that's why she attacked Hank."

"And you as well?" Xavier asked carefully.

He was answered with an angry glare that told him decisively to drop it.

~And don't try diggin' around in my head either.~

"Can't you get a read on her, Chuck? Find out what the hell she's thinkin'? I mean, isn't that what you do?" he asked, sarcastically.

Xavier's attention shifted to Rogue. He looked lost in thought before taking a deep breath. "Physically she is stable...but her mind... her thought patterns aren't cohesive, her emotions are too tumultuous..."

"What are you tryin' to say?" Logan's patience was beyond gone.

"At this time, I cannot actually find Rogue anywhere in there," he bit off quickly, moving away and towards the other bed.

He reverently brushed a stray strand of platinum away from her forehead before he settled his hands on either side of her head. Logan and Hank looked on as he closed his eyes, trying desperately to reach out to one of his X-Men. One of his lost children.

Flashes of light reached him and burned behind his eyes. Images in white, then gray, finally black. Thoughts of midnight, eternal darkness; desperation grew then exploded into extreme elation.

~Rogue? Rogue!~


So many voices, so many emotions. The elation blurred and molded itself into peace and warm contentment. The warmth heated into something volcanic, orgasmic. The hungry heat cooled to solitude and loneliness.

~Rogue-answer me! Push towards me! You have to fight! Fight for what is rightfully yours!~

Xavier's ears were pierced with a vicious, deafening cry. He jerked his hands away from her and up to his own ears.

"What!? What happened? What'd you get?" Logan demanded, now on his feet.

"Nothing," Xavier answered, shaking his head. "There are too many voices, conflicting emotions, opinions and judgments. There's no tangible, logical thought process and then something - or some things pushed me out."

Logan moved to the edge of Rogue's bed. In disbelief he stared down at her closed eyes. While lying there, she actually looked peaceful. There was no indication of the torrent the Professor spoke of; so maybe the old man was just wrong. But he felt the harsh truth too, smelled it on her. Rogue was there, Marie was there, but she wasn't alone. He didn't know what those bastards had done to her, but whatever it was, it altered her at the core. A sudden flashback made Logan squeeze his eyes shut. Marie would never intentionally try to drain him - make that seduce him and then drain him. His Marie would have never straddled his waist and ground down on him in a hallway.

He opened his eyes, shaking off the image. Her hair was now brushed out straight and neatly fell just past her shoulders. Obviously Hank had cut a good portion of it off rather than battle with the tangled mass. Logan took the opportunity to inspect her collar more closely. It was locked around her neck, flush against her skin and there didn't appear to be a catch or opening.

"It's embedded into the back of her neck," Hank spoke up, standing on her other side. "A flexible attachment from the collar goes right into her spinal column and from there it interacts with her entire nervous system. It appears to control her main mutation...but not all of them."

Logan shot the blue doctor a suspicious look. "What do you mean 'all of them'?"

****
He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing over her, watching and waiting. Xavier's and Hank's words played over and over in his head long after they'd left the medlab. It was like a CD track in his head, stuck on repeat.

Apparently, she'd been a test subject. Her unique mutation allowing them to see how many personas they could force on her. The doctors had tested a hypothesis: she could assimilate multiple mutations; if they could combine and solidify them, they could turn her into whatever they wanted. Their restraints and injections were meant to contain her because they couldn't control what they'd created. Some absorptions seemed permanent; others flickered off and on, seemingly beyond her control. Scott had knocked her out and pulled her off of Logan in the hospital. In the Blackbird they'd had to sedate her before she hurt herself with an escape attempt. She was still under heavy sedation and Hank couldn't remove the collar, for fear of the unknown.

Giving into temptation, Logan stretched out a finger and caressed the cold surface of the tiny collar; a dot of red flashing at him, a reminder that she was safe to touch. She was safe from herself...so long as she remained unconscious.

He was a little stunned at the protective streak he still felt for someone that had attacked him. Connived, seduced and attacked him, he reminded himself. It played in direct opposition with his self preserving instinct to throttle her senseless for what she'd done.

Marie was still there though, Logan knew it and had assured the Professor. But should she be held responsible for actions that may not be hers? Xavier said there was the possibility, with time, that she could control what happened to her...but she'd have to let them help her. And if she didn't? Logan couldn't imagine that all that would remain was the hostile and unpredictable she-demon from the hospital.

He cringed inwardly at the idea of Scott, along with the rest of the team, finding them that way in the hallway, both in the grasp of such intense eroticism while one simultaneously had his life sucked out. But even more afflicting was that they'd seen Marie like that, writhing on top of him; relentless with primal desire rolling off of her in waves. That wasn't for them to see. Logan wasn't even sure if Marie was the one responsible for it. No one else should've ever seen that...but if they hadn't, he could be...

Logan shook his head in a quick jerk. "Damn it - Goddamn it! Wake up!"

He found himself shoving on her shoulder, shaking the bed to try and rouse her. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew his behavior was childish and probably a terrible idea, but he wanted an answer. He deserved to know what was going on and she was sure as hell going to tell him. Fuck her, she wasn't going to snooze her way through this.

"Wake up Marie!" he hissed into her ear. "I know you're in there. You're still in there somewhere... Now get out here and talk to me. Right. Fucking. Now."

Without so much as one blink or one solitary bat of eyelash, her dark gaze skewered him.

"Well good morning sunshine," his sardonic greeting.

Her eyes widened, their enormity emphasized by the dilated pupils that stared back. They were bottomless pits of midnight that beckoned; a siren's call, luring a victim like Logan to fall into their depths - and never be seen again...yet they were carefully honed, calculating every movement he made.

Rogue moved to lift her arm. Realizing she was still restrained, she tensed immediately.

A familiar look crossed her face then, sincere fear of capture and confinement, panic. Her eyes began to dart around, her head swinging from side to side. That open display of weakness blew through Logan's battlement. He'd never be immune to the sight of her in any real distress.

"It's okay," he tried, calm reassurance not being his forte. "You're...safe. Nobody's gonna hurt you, just relax."

She continued to flail, her arms and legs jerking making the bed shudder and Logan realized she was restrained at her ankles as well.

"Stop it," he ordered her. "You're gonna hurt yourself - just stop moving!"

He pressed both of his hands into her shoulders, holding her down. "Calm down! You're at the school, you're at Xavier's."

She pushed against his stronghold on her shoulders. He could only look on while she tugged her arms so violently that the metal at her wrists bit into flesh, bruising her...then healing almost immediately.

His ears were assaulted with a haunting sound, something that registered in the recesses of his mind. The tearing of flesh wasn't drowned out by her pitiful scream. Logan jerked away from her to see a bloody set of bone claws protruding from each hand. Her body was twisting and contorting as much as the small prison would allow.

"Let me go!" she screamed. Her voice was still dry and raspy.

Her head swung toward him. "Logan! Let me go! Tell him to let me go!" she continued to scream.
He stood there watching, wanting to fight something. It was an enemy that he couldn't see or separate from the innocent...if she still existed. The thought of it made him want put his fist through something. Then he remembered, only a little while earlier he'd wanted to put his fist through her.

"They're hurting meeee! Logan! Help!" she wailed.

Without another thought, he released the claws, slicing through the belt and wrist restraints. He cut through the ankle cuffs and she fell off the bed onto all fours. She stared down at her hands, crying. Logan quickly knelt down beside her, not knowing what to do but wanting to comfort her in some way. As soon as his hand rested on her shoulder, the skeletal claws withdrew into her hands, healing upon entry.

Rogue remained hunched over, chest heaving, but mesmerized by what her own body had done. There was a small puddle of blood underneath her palms and she raised them, taking her time to inspect the front and back of each hand, wiggling her fingers. She leaned back on her heels, looking at Logan in confusion. He stared back at her.

"I - I think...well that one's from me," he said.

Carelessly, she wiped the blood down the front of her white shirt, then slowly reached out for Logan's hands. She gently held one in both of hers, stroking her fingers lightly across the back, carefully inspecting every inch. Lifting his hand to her face, she took a deep breath and rubbed it along her cheek. A small pink tongue flicked out and traced the groove in between a knuckle. He made a fist and tried to pull his hand back, but her grip held tight. She continued to taste each indention, stopping only to barely suck on the peaks. Logan swallowed hard and Rogue looked up at him, but didn't stop.

"Rogue," his voice now also raspy. "Marie. Stop it."

She dropped his hand and he sat back away from her, but his protests were insignificant.

Rogue crawled towards him, settling on her knees. Casting a look over her shoulder, she eyed the bed and the broken restraints and touched Logan's knee appreciatively. She didn't reach for his hands again, but watched him in anticipation. He watched her in return, taking in the tear streaked face, the long dark locks of her hair, the wide open eyes that were always terrible at hiding her emotions. Rogue still looked so much like the girl he'd picked up in Canada, part of him ached to comfort her, reassure her that everything would be okay. He'd make everything okay, somehow. But another part of him knew that right now, she wasn't that same girl. She was a victim of the hospital, but other than that, he didn't know what she was.

Aware that she was being appraised, Rogue came in closer. "Logan?" she whispered.

He watched her warily, the proximity making her growing excitement more obvious. Again, his senses were assaulted by the swift change in her chemistry. Logan sat helplessly as she moved over him, anchoring her knees on either side of his hips. Leaning in, rather than seductively moving against him like before, she laid her head against his shoulder, curling two fists into his shirt.

"Logan," she murmured again.

Frozen, Logan sat there with Rogue clinging to him. He could feel her heart beating steadily but loudly as she nuzzled deeper into his chest. Wanting to pull her closer, he settled for resting an arm around her shoulders. They remained that way until he felt her breath on his neck, soft and warm. Then a perfect pair of bowed lips made a scorching trail to his ear.

Logan tensed in pleasure, feeling the ache in his abdomen, the stir between his legs. Pleasure turned to provocation as he fought to control his body's reaction.

"Just stop it," he growled, gripping her shoulders.

She continued her attention to the sensitive outer shell of his ear until he roughly pulled her away.

"We're not playing that game again," he said through clenched teeth.

Rogue cocked her head to one side. "Why?" ~You don't trust me anymore.~

Logan tightened his grip painfully. "What the hell was that? You a fuckin' telepath now, too?" He jerked her forward, "Get out of my head."

"I'm not in your head."

A voice shrieked inside his skull. ~You're in mine!!~

Ignoring the sting in his brain, he shook her hard; strong fingers digging into unexpected muscle. "That doesn't even make sense, Marie. Stop this bullshit! You tried to kill me – so hell no I *can't* trust you! You stop this shit right now or I swear to God...don't make me hurt you!"

~I wanna watch you try it, old man!~ The voice slithered through his brain. ~You're the one that's trespassing - you're the one that's in the wrong mind! But we've got a part of you now...you couldn't shut us out if you wanted to. You belong to us!~

Rogue moved to lock her knees around him, but too quickly he threw her back towards the medical bed.

She landed hard, her head knocking against it. On her feet almost immediately, she quickly searched the room for a way to escape.

"Let me go, Logan," she said steadily.

"You're not going anywhere."

~I don't want to hurt you.~ A soft voice tickled his conscience.

~Yeah you do.~ He replied.

~Yes I do.~ The voice hissed.

He lunged for her first, carrying them both to the far wall with his momentum. "Marie, I want to help you - but I'm not letting you go," he yelled, slamming her into the wall.

~You can't have her! We have her. She's ours!~

Rogue grabbed at Logan's wrists and wrapped her legs around him, constricting him until she heard the bones break. He dropped her to the floor. She moved past him, knocking him away and running for the door. Even in the heat of their battle, her arousal was was growing, filling his senses and perfuming the air.

Chasing after her, he knocked her off balance and dragged her down and underneath him. He positioned his weight over her, trying to pin her arms over her head.
"You can't run - dammit! This is...don't do this. Let me help you!" he ordered her. He was filled with the conflicting need to get her back and get back at her; take her away from whatever had control and a sudden desire to take her for himself, prove that he could. The animal wanted to prove dominance, punish her for what she'd tried to do; the man wanted to rescue her.

~Let me go. I'm not yours. You're mine. She's not yours. She'll never be yours.~

Dark eyes gleamed up at him with raw need while a cacophony of taunting voices deafened him. Logan's mind was filled with their continuing barrage, while all his other senses were attacked by her aroused state. She pressed her body up into him while still struggling to free her arms. He gripped both tiny wrists in one of his large hands and boldly cupped her sex with the other.

"You wish you were mine - don't you?" he pressed his forehead to hers.

Rogue glared at him, her legs spreading wider as her upper body still fought against him. Moving to grip both her wrists again, Logan pushed his growing erection firmly against her.

"Stop me," he taunted, but betrayed a hint of pleading. "I know you can stop me. You're stronger than me...aren't you?"

"Yes," she spat at him.

"No you're not," his reply was the animal's menacing sneer.

Removing his hands, he reached down and tore at the pants she wore. "Is this what you want?!" he barked into her face, running his fingers up her thighs to find her wet and ready. "Is this what you wanted in the hospital - or was that just away to suck me dry?! Was that you Marie or did you just need another absorption?"

She shocked him then by covering his hand with hers, pressing the heel of his palm against her.

"This...just this," she purred, looking up at him.

Logan tried to pull his hand away, a needling voice in the back of his head saying this had already gone too far, but Rogue's grip held him in place. She pulled herself up to look at him then.

~Give me this. This isn't what they want. I want this. Please. ~

Rogue pressed her hips towards his hand and Logan's finger slipped just inside her slick opening. He moved over her and heard a gasp when her hand stroked the hard length of his erection. Which one of them made the sound, he wasn't sure. Exploring her, he found the place that would drive her over the edge.

~Yes, Logan...~

It was the last thing he heard in his mind, the voices growing quiet, silenced by her quickened breathing. She whimpered as he continued to caress her; he could feel her reaching out for it, getting closer, her body going rigid beneath him.

He was overwhelmed with the need to bring her closer, draw her out, make her shatter into a million pieces then watch her come back together again.

Her eyes searched his face as if she couldn't focus on any on one point. The long column of her neck arched back and the softest moan escaped her lips.

"I know, Marie. It's okay."

He watched her bite down on her lip and her hips bucked against him hard as she cried out, the climax making her quake. Rogue leaned up, searing him with a look. Logan locked onto her lips with his, taking both her hands and curling them back into his chest, he held her there. He wanted to make sure her hands stayed too occupied to reach for the collar.

Together, they lay in the floor of the medlab, legs intertwined like clinging vines and mouths fused together.

~I'm not an ugly freak.~

"No," he broke away, responding immediately. "Why would you think....no Marie, you're not."

Shiny, chocolate eyes looked up at him before their lips met again. Already he sensed the stirring inside them both. Heat shot through his body as she tugged off his shirt, wanting to get closer. She was pulling at the waist of his pants when he pushed her arms back, needing to be the one in control. The fire began to roll inside her and impatiently she fought, wrapping her legs around him, wanting more.

"What in God's name is going on here?!!" a proper voice exclaimed.

Logan looked up to see both Dr. McCoy and Professor Xavier standing above them.

Logan jumped to his feet, bringing Rogue with him and shoving her behind him, instinctively protective.

"Why is she out of bed? What are you doing? This is not acceptable! This is...is...this is..." McCoy's words began to back up in his throat as he took in their flushed faces and disheveled appearance.

"Logan," the Professor spoke more calmly, "explain what is going on."

Rogue suddenly stepped in front of Logan, pushing him back as if to guard him. She scowled viciously at the intruders before curling her hands into fists. All three men stared in confusion before her intention struck Logan.

"No!" He grabbed her by the waist as she made to attack the other two men. He wasn't strong enough to hold her, but his meaning seemed to get through. "They're okay. They're okay," he repeated.

She stopped, her body still stiff and humming with anger. Her eyes stayed trained on them dangerously, but she didn't advance.

"This is as lucid as we've seen her," Xavier said in amazement.

"Rogue?" Hank moved to approach her and she bristled at the big, blue doctor.

"Just a moment, Hank." The professor put his arm out to block him and tried to reach out, telepathically to her instead.

~Rogue?~

~Stay out of here! Keep him away from me! Let me go! You can't have me! We don't want you in here!~

Spurred on by the fact that there was some pattern to her thoughts, Xavier spoke to her.

"Rogue, we want to help you. We want to help you control what's going on. We want to understand. You can't let these forced mutations control you. I can help you."

She stared at him blankly. They watched each other in such a long silence, Logan wondered if they were still communicating telepathically.

Finally, she spoke. "You can't control me."

Logan interrupted, "Is she using telepathy to communicate with you?"

"Not control you Rogue, help you." Xavier peered over her shoulder at Logan. "She has no telepathy that I'm aware of. That mutation does not seem to be part of her make-up."

Then how is she in my head, he wondered.

Rogue looked back and forth between both of them. "Don't talk about me as if I'm not here," she said, a darkness crossing her pale face.

"Perhaps, Rogue, you would like to sit down somewhere so that we may talk? We only want to help. We are your friends, your teammates...even if you don't remember us yet," Hank said, wanting to be encouraged.

****

Logan laid in his bed, restless and irritated. They'd kept Marie in the medlab for two days now and she constantly had a chaperone. At least she was no longer strapped down, he reminded himself. In the last 48 hours she'd seemed to regain some memory and her actions were a lot more...sensible. He wouldn't go so far as to say anyone trusted her at this point, and she definitely didn't trust any of them. However, they weren't as worried that she was an immediate threat to herself or anyone else. Logan threw his arms behind his head; obviously some worry must remain since she was still confined to the medlab with both Hank and the Professor watching over her. Was their solution to keep her locked up forever? No way was that gonna fly with him.

They'd eventually talked to her alright. The whole damn team had sat down in a conference room and talked plenty, but what Rogue said didn't add up to more than ten words. It was like sitting in a room with...himself. He'd given his account of what occurred at the hospital, as far as finding her, her condition, her trying to run from them. He left out everything at the end and Chuck didn't push. Rogue sealed up about the whole thing like a steel trap and she wouldn't whisper inside his head either. She only responded to questions about whether or not she was hurt, if she remembered anything while in the hospital, if she understood that they wanted to help her.

With a disgruntled sigh, Logan flung his legs over the side of his bed. Sleep didn't look like much of an option tonight. He pulled on his jeans and t-shirt, boots, and grabbed a cigar; heading for the sanctuary of the great outdoors.

He was only strolling the grounds, enjoying some fresh, if somewhat cigar scented, air; so why did it feel like he was pacing? Pacing like one of those caged animals at the damn zoo, he thought.

Logan had gotten a nice little reprimand, if you could call it that, about the 'behavior' in the med lab. Hank and Chuck were discreet, so no one else knew about it. However the whole damn team had seen them in the hospital, which meant everyone in the house knew about it second hand. There were few secrets in the mansion, and if he hadn't gotten disapproving looks before, he was sure getting them now.

Oddly, there was little guilt for what happened with Rogue in the medlab. He didn't even care so much that they'd been caught or that people blamed him for her behavior at the hospital. What he and Rogue had done didn't bother him, but she bothered him. In the extreme. They'd obviously both wanted what happened, but what else did she want? She'd wanted him, but what part of her had wanted him? He couldn't shake the image of her in that hospital, astride his waist, pulling the life out of him; but she'd attempted nothing like that in the medlab.

Logan took a long draw on the cigar. Since when did he worry so damn much about her intentions? This was Rogue...Marie, not some fucking stranger - regardless of how many people were sharing her head. The lure had always been there between them, so now - regardless of current motivation, he could handle it. Rogue couldn't hurt him because he wouldn't let her. God, under normal circumstances, concerns about fornication and Rogue wouldn't even exist. These were about as far from normal circumstances as it got, though; but he could still control a situation. So why the hell didn't it feel like he was the least bit in control?

"Shit," he grumbled, throwing the cigar down, the flickering embers making tracers in the darkness. He drove the steel toe of his boot into the burning end and condemned his thoughts as pointless. All that mattered was that they'd rescued her. She was here and safe and eventually she'd find herself...she had to.

*****

Trudging his way back through the mansion, he had to run into the one person who was still up at this hour. Bobby. He was sitting in the kitchen, eating ice cream, and Logan thought to just keep moving and avoid the boy all together.

"Logan!" Bobby called out to him.

Logan grumbled to himself, wondering if he should just keep moving and plead hard of hearing. Not a likely story since everyone knew he could hear a mouse squeak from the other end of the hall. He paused, and turned to enter the kitchen.

"Yeah, whatcha need?" he asked begrudgingly.

Bobby studied the older man, then looked back to his ice cream. It reminded Logan of another time the boy had brought up an uncomfortable topic and his instincts told him he should've gone with the hard of hearing plea.

"You seen Rogue today?" the young man asked without looking up.

"Briefly, yeah."

"How is she? I mean, does she seem to be getting any better?"

Logan knew that technically, the kid had been Rogue's boyfriend when she disappeared. But he also knew that it was more friend than anything else and in her absence, Bobby hadn't hesitated to take up with the other petite brunette on the team. Still, he recognized genuine concern when he saw it.

"She's fine. A lot better actually, more - coherent. You could go see her for yourself probably."

"No," Bobby shook his head. "Professor said limited visitors and that she'd probably be released from the medlab tomorrow anyway."

Logan flinched. It was the first he'd heard of it; apparently the Professor hadn't seen fit to include him in the loop.

"But you certainly get to go down and check on her plenty though. Don't you Logan?"

If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn there was a challenge in the little blonde kid's eyes. Logan cocked his eyebrow in response.

"You hoping maybe she'll climb on top of you again, like in the hospital?"

Immediately, a highly deadly hand was in Bobby's face, a finger pointed directly at him.

"Watch it kid! Don't talk about shit you don't understand," he growled. He knew Bobby couldn't know about what happened downstairs, but the poor kid had seen everything at the hospital with his own two eyes.

Bobby was on his feet immediately, but moving towards the door. "I understand that I saw you and my EX-girlfriend humping each other in front of God and everybody. She's completely messed up in the head Logan, what's your excuse?!"

With that, he was gone from the kitchen before Logan could grab his neck. He contemplated chasing the boy down and beating him to a pulp, but knew the kid wouldn't be a satisfying foe. The fight would only whet his appetite; an appetite already growling needily in frustration. Looking down at the left behind canister of melting ice cream, Logan cursed both it and Bobby for being so soft. Definitely a good night for the Danger Room.

********

Rogue entered the dining hall for breakfast, her eyes sweeping the staring crowd. Hank had escorted her in, but the dozens of faces looked only at her. She recognized very few of them. Rather than sit with strangers that she was supposed to know, she found a seat at an empty table. She could sense the crowd's relief that she had spared them the awkwardness as well.

"It's okay, Rogue," Hank said quietly. "Give yourself time. Give them some time as well."

The blue doctor had been very kind to her, and Rogue didn't have the heart to tell him she didn't care...not at all. She knew what they thought about her, she could hear their whispered comments even now. They weren't comfortable with what she'd become. Those that didn't avoid her, looked at her with pity; like the pretty young blonde man this morning. It was apparent that she'd had some link to him in the past, but she couldn't continue that now. He'd been polite and she'd smelled the sympathy on him, but it was mixed with fear and uncertainty. She was a freak among freaks. Her skin had been unique enough, but now she had other mutations, stolen mutations, some beyond her control.

Charles Xavier had told her about how they'd found her in that hospital, but he didn't have to explain what happened to her there. She remembered it all; every last mutation and conscience that was forced upon her, every hour spent caged up because the good doctors couldn't reign in their creation. Rogue had some power over the others inside her, but while locked up, she hadn't cared enough to try. Everyone of them was still there now; angry, greedy, wanting more, wanting out, vying for power. Sometimes she gave up, hid herself away and let them win, sometimes she fought. She'd fought her own teammates because that was that was their only way to survive. The nice people at the mansion, she hadn't even recognized them and she'd hurt a few of them her attempt to escape. She didn't feel bad about it now, because what was done was done, but now they were hesitant to let her in. The people around her didn't know her, they didn't trust her, but it didn't really matter. These people weren't her concern. They weren't her enemy. Rogue had other, more important things to think about. She ate her food silently until he came into the room.

Looking directly at him, she willed him to come sit next to her. Him, she knew; he was very familiar. He had helped her, comforted her - many times. The look, the feel, the smell of him. Logan. Wolverine. Once she'd recognized him, she'd remembered him. He was as marked by her as she was by him and she wondered if he knew it. She'd had him twice before and she'd wanted him again; wanted that pull where everything he was flowed in and they became one. Her body and heart craved him as much as her mind did, and she'd tried to show him that while she took him. His identity, his persona, had permanently embedded and separated itself inside her. The others didn't like it very much, but she liked it. She liked it very much. Logan had not liked it either though; he'd been very angry with her and for that reason, she must not do it again.

Logan saw Rogue sitting with Hank at a round table on the far side of the dining hall. They were well separated from the rest of the group, which suited him perfectly. He felt everyone's eyes on him while he crossed the room. He knew what they were thinking about, visualizing. There was an inner voice that wanted to defend himself and her actions like she was his high school girlfriend, but for the most part he didn't give a damn what anyone in that room thought. Fuck them!

He didn't care what people thought of him, but to play it safe for her, he slid into the seat next to Hank. He felt, rather than saw, Rogue cut her eyes at him. With no hesitation and complete disregard for appearance, she stood up and moved her food and drink over to sit beside him. Underneath the table, her thigh rubbed and pressed firmly against his. Logan tried not choke on his water, watching her finish her food while devouring him with her eyes. He thanked God that no one else in the room had his senses or else they'd know that her hormones were bouncing off the walls, surrounding the room, in response to him. In reaction, his were doing the same. Logan cursed his sudden lack of self control. Some students and team members were shooting them inquisitive looks, making him wonder if maybe it was still obvious without hyper senses. Smothering in the scent of her, he leaned in so Hank could not hear.

"Marie? You need to stop...doing what you're doing."

Suddenly she looked very confused and equally as hurt.

"No - you're not...just...not here, okay?"

Rogue glanced at him innocently, but nodded her head in agreement.

"I'll try," she whispered.

******

After breakfast, Hank had escorted Rogue to the Professor's office when all she really wanted to do was wander the mansion. She wasn't interested in its inhabitants, but their information. There was information everywhere and some of it had to pertain to that hospital and the people that had kept her there. It wasn't a need to know why that plagued her, but a need to know where...and who.

The Professor probably knew all, but he was too clever for his own good and telepaths were, by their nature, very nosey. All he wanted to do was talk about her feelings, how she was managing. She was growing stronger each day and managing just fine, but even when she wasn't - it didn't matter. No matter who took over, they were all a part of her. They were Rogue; she was the only one. He didn't get it though and she wasn't going to explain it. It was easier if they didn't understand it anyway. Everyone was better off thinking Rogue was still a confused, helpless little girl.

The majority of them couldn't get past the compromising position that she and Logan had been found in. Rogue could not understand why it mattered to any of them. She and Logan belonged to each other, so how could it not be obvious to everyone else? She'd even heard someone allude to it as Logan taking advantage of her, but most wondered if she was some kind of succubus, about to seduce them all, then drain them dry. She laughed bitterly at that image of herself, receiving an odd look from the Professor. No need to worry that he would read what she was thinking. The tangled barbs of her mind would cut him to bits if he ever made it past the perimeter.

Regardless of their misguided thoughts, the residents of the mansion weren't bad people, they were mostly, innately good...just too wrapped up in their own existence to get the point. Unlike her, they'd never had to share their existence with almost a dozen other people.

The Professor was still dronning on about 'assimilation' and 'barriers' of personas. One of the others in her mind found the entire concept extremely funny, one wanted everyone else behind a barrier, another was offended at the idea of needing a barrier, still another wanted nothing more than wrap it's hands around Xavier's neck and squeeze. She scowled inwardly at them, warning them to behave. ~Stop it! Stop or I'll end it, I swear!~

The Professor flinched at her outward projection.

"Rogue - was that..."

"I want to look around," she interrupted the Professor mid-sentence. "Maybe a familiar setting would help me get back more, sooner," she added more sweetly.

********

Logan walked the halls of the mansion, watching as people carried on in their usual evening rituals. He'd spent the day teaching a couple of classes, working on his bike, but otherwise avoiding people as much as possible. The team was supposed to run through a few drills that evening. Logan had no desire to make an appearance. The only convincing arguement had been that Scott found out more information on the hospital that was testing on mutants. The remaining powers that be had pulled up stakes and left after being cornered by the X-Men, but the cocky bastards had only relocated - not shut down completely. Awaiting more information, the team was planning another raid. This time, with more permanent results. The idea of getting his hands on the assholes that were using mutants like guinea pigs, the sons of bitches that screwed with Rogue's head, well that was more than enough to make him endure the team's scrutiny.

There had even been talk that maybe he shouldn't go. Not because he was some kind of pariah, but because if he had a taste for revenge, things might get out of control. This needed to be a clean sweep, a tidy operation...and blahdy blah. Logan did his best to communicate that he only wanted to help the team take down a danger to all mutants, not persue a vendetta in Rogue's name. Of course it was complete bullshit, but the team seemed to buy it.

After being dismissed by their Fearless Leader, Logan had made a search for Rogue - casually of course.
Earlier that day he'd seen her making the rounds with Xavier, then with Hank. Sharing only pleasantries, they'd had a brief encounter, but never allowed any privacy. He wasn't sure if that was for her protection or his, but it was more than a bit demeaning either way. He wanted to talk to her, one on one, suprising even himself with the wish to carry on a conversation. They hadn't had a chance to really talk at all, and this was Rogue after all. Talking to her was different.

Frustrated after not picking up the sight or scent of her anywhere, he figured she'd been isolated back down to the medlab under lock and key. He could go down there and talk to her, but only with a guardian looking over their shoulder. No thanks. It was still very early for him to retire to his room, but the idea of a cold beer and some serious alone time sounded too good to pass up.

Logan closed his door and locked it without turning on any lights. Darkness wasn't a deterent to his keen eyesight, and with a near full moon highlighting the sky, he could clearly make out everything in his room. As he turned around he saw the distinct outline of someone lying in his bed.

Rogue sat up with her back arrow straight. She clutched the sheet in front of her, but by the profiled view of her bare back, Logan knew she was naked beneath his blankets. No nervousness or apprehension shown on her face, just like it was a common occurence for her to be there...like that.

Her eyes followed him closely as he moved further into the room.

"What...," there was a catch in his throat. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you," she answered.

"I was looking for you."

"But I was here."

"I see that now," Logan replied, almost wanting to laugh - but this was no laughing matter. "I meant, what do you think you're doing here, like that? This is...this isn't right."

Rogue leaned her head to the side, confused. "Yes it is. This is what you want, what you've wanted. I want it too."

He moved towards the bed, looking for something to cover her with, but she slid her legs smoothly from the blankets, letting the sheet fall away. Logan stopped, knowing he should look away but completely unable to do so. Placing her bare feet on the floor, she seemed to glide towards him.

"God...Marie. What're you doing?"

Rogue stopped a few feet infront of him. ~Why are you asking? Tell me you don't want this.~

~It would be lie.~

~I know.~

Logan drank in the sight of her, shamelessly naked in front of him. She was exquisite. Her pale skin appeared iridescent in the moonlight, making her all the more surreal. He figured this had to be one of his better sexual fantasies.

~I'm real Logan. Touch me.~

~Everyone thinks I'm taking advantage of you - of the situation, that I'm hurting you.~

~But you know it isn't true. This is what I want too...and you won't hurt me.~

~How are you in my head?~

~I'm not. I'm talking to the you that's in my head. You can feel it. You're a part of me, surely you know it.~

Rogue stared at him intently as her hands lightly touched her abdomen and ran up and over her breasts, the nipples hardening, then back down her sides. Their primal reaction to each other was permeating the room, lancing through them and everything around them. She approached him, feeling the heat from his body.

"You sense us in the air too?" he asked, his voice sounding rough.

She nodded.

"Why is...that never happened before. It didn't happen with you before."

Rogue leaned her body into his, tossing her head up to look at him. "It's only stronger now." She deftly unzipped his sweatshirt, pulling it off of him.

He grabbed both her wrists, commanding her attention, laying her even more bare with his gaze. "Go slower," he told her and placed her hands on his chest. She obeyed and ran them along the rippling planes of his torso, relishing the feel of muscle and flesh. Rogue knelt down to remove his shoes, then his pants.

Their eyes locked again.

"Put your hands on me," she murmured.

Logan reached for her and roughly pulled her against him, the hard length of his erection pressing against her stomach. He felt a tightening in his groin when her hand dipped down and wrapped around him. Their lips met and he thrust his tongue inside, a very basic urge to plunder and dominate. She coaxed him with her hand on his cock and her lips on his tongue, her mouth emulating what she was doing to him below the waist. He moaned against her mouth and pulled away.

The look in his eyes was communication enough. The animal residing inside Rogue's mind told her he needed control now. She'd have to sacrifice a little of hers. Trusting him completely in this, she relaxed. Her neck fell back in an ultimate show of surrender.

Logan worshipped the site before him. He wanted to bury himself inside her, wallow in her scent, hold her helpless in his arms. He eyed the tiny blinking red eye suspiciously.

~I won't let them hurt you.~

And he knew it was the truth. Buring his face in her skin, he kissed and licked and suckled his way down her body. His Marie was soaring somewhere above them, he could feel it...and he would send her higher. She gently pushed away from him and crawled onto the bed, giving him the perfect view of her slick core. Tossing her hair back, she tilted her head giving him a look that needed no interpretation, then rested on one hip.

He crawled over her, lowering his head and spreading her legs. She needed to be more prepared for him. Caressing every fold, he dipped his tongue inside her, encircling and encouraging her. When her hips arched high, he grabbed them, lifting them higher and drank from her as if she were the cup of life. Rogue's nails were clawing for something to anchor her and when her climax made her cry out, Logan thrust into her, deeply.

Holding her there to let her body accept him, there was no hesitancy or doubt.

~It's you. It's always been you. I won't hurt you. Only you. Only.~ And they were both saying it.

He moved inside her, each stroke his undoing. Her eyes were wild in ecstacy. Reaching between them, he pushed her higher into the heavens. Rogue was flying now, holding his muscular forearms as her link to earth. Logan gripped her hips and moved harder inside her. The constriction started at his spine.

"Marie," he moaned, spilling out inside her, his body as helpless as hers.

*****

Rogue loved the feel of his heavy weight on top of her; the warmth, the sweat, the protection it lent. In the dead of night they had mated again, and again. Logan was rough, then gentle, completely domineering and at times so gentle and giving. Inside of her, he felt so right. Inside her body and inside her mind. He was a part of her, he belonged to her and her to him. It was right.

~No! We belong to no one. I belong to no one. He belongs to me. There is only me.~

She could take him with her; have him always and he'd never leave. He made her stronger in so many ways, to have all of him would be perfect.

No! That wasn't right. He was perfect the way he was and he took care of her. He had cut her loose from the prison, he understood, he knew her. Logan was her mate now, he loved her.

~He'll leave, he always does. But I can keep him here. I can make him stay forever. Take him. Take him.~

*****

"She's gone! Logan, wake up!"

The incessant banging on his door roused Logan out of the most peaceful sleep he'd had in years. Scrubbing his face with his hands and leaning up, he recognized Scott's frantic voice.

"What the hell is your problem One-Eye!" he barked.

"Get your ass downstairs Logan! Rogue's disappeared again. The Professor can't get a trace on her anywhere."

Logan stifled a laugh as his eyes fell back to the bed. The empty space next to him made his blood run cold. He knew it then with absolute certainty, with a dark foreboding that hadn't proved him wrong yet. He knew it the way someone knows their own flesh. She was gone.

Rogue wasn't speaking in his head either. She wasn't anywhere near the mansion, but she hadn't been taken. No. Marie had left him. But she'd left because of them. The people sharing her mind had forced her to go...or she'd left because of them. It should've made him furious, enough to unleash the beast within. He could sense its bloodlust, its need to rage against the loss of its mate. Instead, Logan drew on that darkness, the primal strength empowering him until only one thought remained. Her. He would find her; seek and destroy, hunt and kill to reclaim his mate. His Marie.