Logan walked back to Xavier's school in the freezing rain. It had been a long time since he left Rogue and the X-Men to check out the abandoned research centre in Canada. He had found a few answers but not many, at least not enough that answered his nightmares.

In the short time he had been in Xavier's school, Logan had learned a great deal about himself, emotionally if not factually. It was the first group of people had ever felt any closeness for and his need for human companionship had been gnawing at him daily. His frustration compounded by the fact he'd written-off Cyclops' Harley and had to make the last 60 miles back on foot. He knew how pissed Scott would be but allowed himself a grin at seeing his expression.

The dark November night was bitterly cold, rain, driven by the wind snapped at Logan's face, leaving it sore. He swept his hair back and pressed on, trying his best to ignore the discomfort. Suddenly he stopped, his feral senses alert, he sniffed the air cautiously. He couldn't see anything yet felt uneasy, he wanted to extend his claws just as a precaution but decided against it. The damn things seemed to hurt more and more as he got older. Logan eventually relaxed, his eyes hunted the woodland but didn't find anything out of place.

He continued to press on down the road, which was beginning to descend into a dip, and in the distance he could see the school at long last. Now that the building was visible he felt a sudden rush of nervousness. There was so much unfinished business there, so many uncertainties and in the past Logan knew he would never have gone back. He felt like he'd been running from something for 15 years but could never figure out what. From the darkness he saw the face of the woman that made him come back, he reached out to touch the image but she faded away. Logan drew his hand back, starring at it, not really understanding but feeling. If she was a telepath then she had no problem in reaching out to him.

The gates of the school opened for him of their own accord, presumably on Xavier's instruction he thought. He looked around but most of the lights were already out. He let himself in and sniffed the air keenly. Jean and Scott had been standing where he was a short time ago, delicately sampling each scent Wolverine finally relaxed when he could find no presence of Mystique. Now he knew what she smelled like, there was no chance she'd get back in.

"Logan?"

He spun around at the sound of the voice, his back to the wall. Before he could react any further he felt the warm body of Rogue swamp him, her arms wrapped around his back, oblivious to his soaking clothes and cold skin. Careful not to touch him with bare skin, Rogue pressed her head against his chest, his damp paisley shirt offering his warm scent to her. They didn't move for what seemed an age, but instead lingered, clutching in the dark hallway of Xavier's school.

Finally she opened her eyes, hoping it wasn't a dream and starred into Logan's face, his own eyes brimming with gentleness and love. Rogue was trembling; she could feel his hot breath teasing her, his powerful, muscled body cradling her form like she was a baby. He took her silk-gloved fingers, sniffed them gently and then kissed her fingertips before letting go.

"I told you I'd come back." Logan whispered.

Rogue starred emptily at his chest as her fingers made little circles on it. "Why'd you have to be away so long, I was real lonely without you."

"I know you were," he admitted, "I could feel you no matter where I was. I won't leave you again."

She looked up and smiled at him. Rogue desperately wanted to kiss him, needed to kiss him but couldn't. Her mouth reached forward before she pulled away, turning her back to him and lowering her head in pain and frustration, the torment crucifying her soul.

Logan again wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck through the thin silk of her gown, she gave a tiny involuntary groan and instinctively pushed her bottom back onto Logan's hips but then realised what was happening and tried to pull away from him. She pulled away but Logan didn't let go, she tried again but his ironclad embrace wouldn't give her up. Her chest heaved and finally she stopped struggling. When she relaxed Logan let her go.

She took a few paces before turning around to face him, silver tears running in veins down her face. Rogue had her hands down at each side of her body, her fingers balled up into fists as bitter hatred for herself seethed through her being. Logan slumped to his knees and pulled her in, his face pressed against her belly, feeling her bodyheat through the thin material, she feeling the roughness of whiskers almost touching her soft skin.

"Don't hate yourself, sweetheart. I've been there, I've been there so long I almost forgot what any other feeling was like. You hate yourself because you're different, because you're a mutant, because you can't be like normal people, what ever the hell normal is. Normal people thought it was all right to try and produce a race of mutant super-soldiers with admantium skeletons, man, I could tell them a thing or two about normal."

"Then how do you do it, how do you go on? How do you keep fighting in isolation?"

"You do it because you find a reason better than yourself to do it. All that psycho crap about loving yourself won't be enough. I made you the reason for goin' on, that we all need to love someone more important than ourselves."

"But Logan," Rogue said quietly, "how can I ever be truly fulfilled? How can I ever be a real woman?"

Logan looked up to her and smiled. "Yer mean in the bedroom sense?"

Rogue blushed, "I suppose. I ... the loneliness of it all, of knowing that my touch is deadly to anything that isn't inanimate. It's something I can never overcome, I can take a pill for having a headache, for all kinds of diseases, for not having a baby even." She took his hand in her gloved palm "yet this touch is almost beyond my comprehension, how do I still call myself human?"

"Marie, everyone is born alone, mutants more than others. Being touched doesn't define who we are. I've been touched, I've been torn apart and that has made me so lonely there was a long time whether I didn't care whether I lived or died. That's why I had to save you from Magento, you asked me why I did it and at the time I didn't know. Now I do, I did it so that if I died I did it for someone I cared about, for someone who made me realise that life was worth living, was worth the risk. To give this messed up old soldier a reason to live was a gift I don't know how to repay."

"But I."

"You want us to be like Jean and Scott?"

"Yes." Rogue offered, abandoned.

"We won't ever be like them and they won't ever be like us. Do ya think Soldierboy there would like to see Jean without being trapped in his ruby-quartz prison? Do ya think Jean would like to be surprised by something he says as she's felt it before Scott has even thought of it. Okay, they can go to bed together in ways we never can but I can see you in ways Cyclops never can, I can feel you in ways Jean never will. They'll feel just as trapped and helpless as we do."

Rogue lifted him up again and hugged him, kissing his chest.

"Come on, I'm sure you'd like to get something to eat and rest."

He nodded.

After he'd finished his supper and went for a shower, Rogue took Logan back to her bedroom and she slid into the large bed. She slept in a silk gown that had been made especially for her so she couldn't touch anyone by accident. Rogue patted the space beside her. She could see Logan was a little reluctant but eventually he dropped the robe on the floor, exposing his to-die-for body, Rogue felt a flush of excitement ripple though her, swelling and then bursting like a soap bubble. He got in and cuddled her, still unable to kiss, but close enough. Rogue switched off the bedside light and sank into his comforting arms.

"I don't feel lonely anymore." She whispered, she couldn't see his face in the dark but was sure he smiled.

"I never left you alone, Marie, I never will."

"So is loneliness just an illusion?" Rogue asked, her mind already cloudy and drowsy.

"No, it's real enough. But who we are and where we've been is signposted by who we've loved, that's what we'll be remembered for." But by now, Rogue was fast asleep...