Lost And Found by aranenumenesse
Summary: “Marie… I need help.”
Categories: X1 Characters: None
Genres: Shipper
Tags: None
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 8 Completed: No Word count: 10348 Read: 50888 Published: 01/29/2008 Updated: 03/02/2010
Story Notes:
Answer to RouDeVil's pic challenge. I took the liberty of making this a one story instead of writing separate story for each and every one of the pics.

1. Chapter 1 by aranenumenesse

2. Chapter 2 by aranenumenesse

3. Chapter 3 by aranenumenesse

4. Chapter 4 by aranenumenesse

5. Chapter 5 by aranenumenesse

6. Chapter 6 by aranenumenesse

7. Chapter 7 by aranenumenesse

8. Chapter 8 by aranenumenesse

Chapter 1 by aranenumenesse
Author's Notes:
For my first pic I chose this one: http://roudevil.deviantart.com/art/X-Infant-75902860
He wiped his gritty eyes with the back of his hand and blinked. Yep. It was still there. Blinked once more, and the baby crawling at his feet on a grubby carpet was still there. He turned and checked the number on the door of his room. Yep. Nine. Same number adorned the key that he was clutching in his hand. “What the crap…?” He tilted his head and crouched, reaching a hesitant hand towards the baby who let out an alarmed shriek, making him scoot fast backwards.

Ten minutes later, after making sure that the baby wasn’t just some very twisted form of hallucination he threw his heavy jacket over it to keep it somewhat immobile and stepped outside, reaching for his cell phone. Out of habit he dialed Xavier’s private number, then hastily cut the connection before the telepath had the time to answer. Xavier wouldn’t do now. Maybe Jean or Ororo? He tried both but got no answer.

He peered in to the room through a small crack between the door and the door frame. The baby stared back, chewing on the sleeve of his jacket, pink gums flashing and generous amount of drool soaking the leather.

He had only one number left on his list. Not really useful in this kind of situation. Rogue had given him her number, her cheeks flashing crimson and her eyes seeking his, telling him to call if he needed anything. He had taken the number more out of obligation than anything else. What the hell could a sixteen years old girl have that he needed? “Well, what the hell… At least she’ll probably know how to reach Jean…” He muttered and chose the number, keeping his eyes on the baby.

It didn’t occur to him to check the time before Rogue’s sleepy voice answered. “Uh… Hi, kid. It’s me.” For a long moment there was a silence, then sudden squeal made him cringe and move the phone further from his ear. “Logan! Oh, my god! It’s you!” When it sounded like she had stopped squealing he dared to place the phone back over his ear again. “Yeah. It’s me….” “Are you alright? Where are you? You are alright, aren’t you?” Barrage of questions interrupted him. He listened not too patiently for a while, then cleared his throat. “Look, kid… I’m fine. But I need to talk with Jean. She didn’t answer her phone. You wouldn’t know where to find her, would you?”

Complete silence fell. Then sudden gasp. Was that a sob? Had something happened? “Kid, talk to me. Is everything alright back there?” “Fine. Everything is just fine… Oh, Jean. She’s at some conference with Ororo and Professor Xavier. At Milan.” “Okay. Shit. Well, I guess I’ll just have to…” He started when Rogue interrupted him again. “Was it something important? She left a number to her office so that we could reach her if we needed anything. I could go and get it for you,” the girl offered. He could hear the strain in her voice. She’d snap her teeth if she grit them any harder. “No. It’s okay. If she’s at Milan, there’s not a hell of a lot she can do for me right now. Sorry to bother you, kid. Just go back to sleep…”

He was about to cut the line when sudden crash from the background made his ears perk. “What was that?” He asked. Watery chuckle reached his ears. “No… Nothing. I’m a klutz. Fell off from a chair…” She stuttered, trying her earnest to sound perky, failing miserably. She was crying. And he felt like a complete bastard. “Are you alright?” He asked. “Just fine… I… I better go back to sleep like you said…” She said. “It’ll be better in the morning…” He heard her whisper before the line went dead.

He pocketed his phone and stepped back in to the room. Stared at the baby for a moment. “I better take this. Can’t be too pleasant experience to start shitting zippers and Kevlar…” He grunted, tugging the jacket away from the baby whose lower lip started to quiver. “Aww, come on! It’s my only jacket. What the hell am I going to wear if you have it for supper?” He asked. Small nose scrunched up. The baby’s whole face started to turn red. “Shit. Keep the damn jacket…” He draped the jacket over the baby more carefully now, and it instantly attacked the sleeve once more, grinding it between toothless gums, cooing and gurgling.

“What the fuck am I going to do with you?” He asked, crouching in front of the baby, his palms dangling between his thighs. “You know… When I reserve a room for the night, it usually doesn’t come equipped with a baby. How the hell did you even end up in here?” The baby had no answers. It just kept chewing his jacket and peering him with eyes full of curiosity. He picked it up from the floor, jostling the bunch of leather containing the baby as carefully as he could and sat on to a recliner at the corner of the room, digging up his phone again.

Rogue. He dialed her number again. Waited for an answer. When it came, she sounded perky and ecstatic no more. “What?” He cringed. She sounded tired and hurt. “It’ll be better in the morning. What’s that supposed to mean? Something wrong with you?” He asked. Rogue sighed. “Nothing’s wrong, Logan.” “Then why the hell do you sound like your grandma just died?” He pressed on. It really wasn’t his business, and in a way it was nothing but his business. “Nobody’s died. I’m just tired. Tired of this shit…” Rogue hissed, misery in her voice turning slowly to simmering anger. Something he could understand and relate to. “Other kids giving you a hard time?” He asked. Rogue snorted. “As if. If they as much as breathe the wrong way around me, one of the teachers sets them straight right away. Like I’m some fucking fragile little princess…” He bit his tongue before the question ‘aren’t you one’ made it to surface.

Sure. She had felt and looked fragile when he had held her. Helpless like the baby he was cradling at the scruff of his elbow. But no baby, no princess would have had the power to come back to life after what Magneto did. No baby, no princess would have been able to bring him, bring the Wolverine knocking at the death’s doorstep.

“Life’s a bitch kid. You just have to suck it up and behave until you’re bitch enough to face it,” he huffed instead. The baby cooed at his arms like it was agreeing. “What was that noise?” Rogue asked, and he could see in his mind’s eye the level gauge of her curiosity hitting hundred percent. “Just some brat I found from my room,” he grunted. “A baby? You have a baby?” Rogue asked. “It was already here when I came. It’s not like it’s mine or anything,” he hurriedly explained. “And I have no fucking clue of what to do with it,” he confessed after a brief pause. “That’s why you needed to find Jean! Why didn’t you say something before?” Rogue asked, sounding already perkier. “Because I need somebody who knows what to do with these critters,” he said. “It’s a baby, Logan. Not a critter.” “What ever… Right now it’s trying to chew a sleeve off from my jacket.” “Get that filthy thing off from its mouth at this instant!” Sheer raw power behind Rogue’s words made him nearly drop the baby. The phone fell, shattering to pieces all over the floor.

“Shit. What do we do now?” He asked, looking at the baby who had discarded his jacket temporarily and just stared at him, mouth hanging open, eyes wide as saucers and a sticky tendril of goo flowing over its chin. “Borrow this for a while?” Logan asked, peeling the jacket off from the baby. If he remembered correctly he had some spare coins in the pocket…

Lone lady at the Laundromat gave him a quick onceover, seeing him with a baby seemed to assure her of his good intentions and she went back in to her task of emptying the drier as he stomped past her towards the payphone that hung at the back wall. He jabbed few coins in and dialed her number. Then scooped a cracked plastic chair with his leg and sat on it, arranging his heavy carcass to the skewed seat as comfortable as possible. The baby leaned against his chest, and the wet, suckling noises coming from the general direction of his left ear told him that it had found the collar of his jacket. “Don’t choke on it. And if anything comes off, show it to me before you swallow…” He grunted, waiting for Rogue to pick up. It didn’t take long. “And what the hell do you suggest that I do?” He barked. He could hear Rogue taking a deep breath, then just silence followed. Perhaps it had come out harsher than he intended. “Marie… I need help,” he finally blurted, feeling the crimson of embarrassment creeping up over his face. It took her a long while to answer.

“There’s a locator chip installed in Scott’s motorcycle. Just sit tight where you are. I’ll come and find you, and we’ll see what to do,” she said.
Chapter 2 by aranenumenesse
Author's Notes:
Second chapter, from which a large portion I get to thank for this pic: http://roudevil.deviantart.com/art/Ultimate-Battle-of-Strength-75901952
He had no much to offer for the Lady Luck for a token of her grace, yet he sent her his gratitude. He hadn’t crossed the border yet. In fact, he had left from Xavier’s well over a week ago, but he hadn’t gotten out of the state yet. It would take few hours from Rogue to drive to the grimy motel he was staying at.

He peeled the baby off from his chest and held in at arm’s length. He could feel the slimy, wet goo sliding down the side of his neck. “Jeesh, you’re clingy, aren’t you…” He huffed when the baby let out a shriek of disappointment, then suddenly stuffed its own balled fist in to its mouth and started chewing at it. Something, a distant memory was slowly making its way to the surface, then it clicked. “You’re getting teeth… Shit. You’re getting teeth? Why didn’t you say something?” He asked. The baby blinked and yawned widely, then continued rubbing its gums. “You guys need some stuff to help with itching, right?” He asked, feeling slightly stupid. Talking to a baby was fine, but waiting for an answer? He was losing it.

At this hour there probably was no convenient store stacked with babies goods open. He wandered across the road to a nearby gas station. Shelves there were stacked to the brim with anything and everything a badass biker or a trucker could need on the road. No teething rings or dummies were around. He spied a familiar looking jar sitting on a shelf, slightly above his eyelevel. He reached for it and it fell in to his hand. Exactly what he needed. Label advertized them to be an excellent, organic road snack for travelers. Some kind of dried biscuits made out of rye and only God knew what else. He had once bought a jar of those god-awful cookies and nearly broken his teeth trying to chew on them. They would do.

He collected few cans of beer, as well as some pretzels and beef jerky for himself and stuffed them to the basket with the rye cookies. He was standing at the counter already when he felt something wet at the scruff of his elbow, just under the baby’s but. “Jesus Christ. Wait a second. I think I forgot something…” He muttered to the smirking clerk who wiggled his fingers to the baby. He returned through the aisles to the back of the store. There were no diapers. He grabbed a colorful pack of waste cotton. It would have to do until morning. That led him to a trickier quest. No matter how hard he looked, there was no milk of any kind. Not even powdered, not that he was even sure if you could give something like it for a baby.

“Got any milk?” He asked from the cashier who started ringing his purchases. The man nodded. “You’re in luck, pal. Got this last week…” The clerk said, crouching behind the counter and hefting a cardboard tray filled with small square packages from there. “Just what the little guy needs,” the man continued, winking for the baby for the good measure. Logan scrunched his forehead. “Baby formula? What the fuck is that?” He asked, instantly alarmed, his hand clutching the baby instinctively closer to him. The clerk just smirked again. “Mommy left you two on your own devices, huh? Well, it’s meant for the babies. To replace the breast milk. Just warm it up before you give it to the little guy. But not too hot. There are instructions in the packages.” “Oh…” He started to relax somewhat. Paid for his groceries, gathered them and walked out, the baby hanging from his shoulder, chewing at his collar again.

Back in his room he settled the baby on to the bed, tucking some pillows around it. Draped his jacket to the bedpost. Baby’s eyes followed the black leather, and its lip started to quiver once more. “You peed on it. You’d have to make pretty hefty arguments to get me to give it back to you. But this…” He held up the jar of biscuits. “This is even better. He cracked the jar open and handed the baby one of the small biscuits.

While the baby was munching on the preferred road snack he started tackling with the harder issues. First he took a healthy swig from a beer. Then another one before placing the can on to the small table next to bed. Then one more and congratulated himself for remembering that he would need a towel. “Fuck the towel. We’re going to have a shower, kiddo. We both reek to high heavens…” He grunted.

It took a bit jostling, but finally he was standing naked in the bathroom, equally naked baby on his arms. That’s when it dawned on him how fucking small the critter actually was. Barely the length of his arm, head fitting on his palm. Hands and feet tiny. Miniscule. And so trusting. He as sure as hell wouldn’t have trusted ugly as hell hairy motherfucker who was at least three hundred pounds his superior, but the baby just kept looking at him calmly. Cool as a cucumber. “But I guess you got no choice in the matter…” He huffed, then reached to turn on the shower. “Just leave all squirming and drooling to minimum, okay? Don’t want to drop you or anything,” he instructed the baby before stepping under the lukewarm spray. And slipped on to a bar of soap at the bottom of the tub, falling on his back and hitting his head. Last thing he realized before the lights went out was the baby’s delighted squeal over the game its new friend had developed.

He came back to his senses quickly enough. The baby was squirming on him, trying simultaneously to chew off his nose and pluck out his muttonchops. “And that is exactly why you shouldn’t horse around at the shower,” he grunted, checking the critter and finding it unharmed. Luckily he had landed on his back. He probably would have crushed the baby if he had fallen face first. He opted to sit down on to the floor instead of standing up. Much less hazardous for the baby’s health.

“You sure are one wrinkly motherf…” He thought the better of it. “…One wrinkly critter, aren’t you…” He grumbled and washed the baby for the best of his abilities. His hands felt awfully clumsy all of a sudden. “You know, I could probably swipe the wings off from a flying mosquito with the stuff I got buried in to my arms. It certainly shouldn’t be a problem to get one itsy bitsy baby cleaned up, right?” He asked. The baby cooed and grasped his palm, trying to bring his thumb to a biting distance.

He had brought the jar of cookies in to the bathroom with them, just in case. Now he reached for it and dug out a biscuit, trading his thumb for it with the baby who took the offered treat. “We’re starting to turn to a couple of prunes already… better get out from here before we dissolve or something…”

He rose from the tub slowly, holding the baby with one hand, the other reaching for a towel when he heard a knock from the door. “Logan! Logan! Are you in there?” Rogue. Finally. He draped the towel over the baby, then quickly shrugged on a bathrobe before leaving the bathroom and going to open the door.

“Uh… It had a leak…” He stuttered, ushering the girl in to the room, trying feebly to explain why he had felt the need to take a shower with the baby. “A leak? Did you stuff a cork in it?” Rogue asked. “Christ, kid. It’s a baby!” He huffed, settling on to the recliner and handing yet another biscuit to his drooling companion. “Yes. A baby, Logan. A he. Or a she. Not it.” “A she. And no. I didn’t stuff a cork in it. You wouldn’t happen to have any diapers with you?” He asked, only now noticing the large duffle bag that Rogue was carrying. “Diapers, clothes, food… You name it, I got it,” the girl said, plunking the bag on to the bed and reaching for the baby. He felt strangely reluctant to let go, but handed the baby over.

After a while when Rogue was sitting on the bed, baby dressed and suckling a bottle of milk he had to admit that the girl probably knew what she was doing. After even a longer while when the baby was snoring softly in a bed made in to one of the drawers of the dresser he was seriously impressed.

And a good deal later he found himself seriously, utterly pissed off.

“She could have gotten sick! What were you thinking?” Marie half shouted, half whispered, waving the jar of rye biscuits up in the air. He tried to grasp the jar. “I was thinking that at least they were healthier than my fucking jacket!” He hissed, cursing silently when he struck his toe to the foot of the bed. He got his fingers around the jar and gave it a sharp yank, only managing to loosen the top of it, making it spill the cookies all over the floor as they grabbled and bickered over them.

“I thought you had more sense than this. Giving this shit to a baby…” Rogue spoke with hushed tone, calmer now as they set to collect the scattered biscuits. “The things I don’t know about babies would fill up a fucking library, kid. That’s why I asked for help,” he murmured. Rogue sat back on her heels, rubbing her face tiredly. “First thing tomorrow morning we’re going to find the local office of the social services. They’ll know what to do with the baby. But before that we both need to sleep,” she huffed.
Chapter 3 by aranenumenesse
Author's Notes:
And here's the next pic: http://roudevil.deviantart.com/art/My-Protector-75903019
He couldn’t sleep. Nasty headache kept pestering him, something that should have been impossible considering his mutation. He stood by the window, having pulled his jeans on but not bothering with the shirt. He had cranked the radiator of the room high anyway to keep the baby warm. The baby. It was sleeping so peacefully, all snuggled up to a blanket Rogue had brought with her. He let his gaze roam over the room, stopping to the baby for a moment as he pondered his options. Not that there were so many. But taking the baby to social services and then just abandoning it to the mercies of the faceless system really grated his nerves.

He huffed and turned his gaze. It was raining outside. Black asphalt was gleaming wetly.

“Trouble sleeping?” Rogue asked and he just about jumped up in the air. He hadn’t even heard her getting up, and now she was standing right behind him, one hand braced over his shoulder. “Wasn’t that tired, that’s all. You?” He asked. He could more feel than see the girl shrugging in the darkness. “I guess I wasn’t that tired after all…” She said, then to his surprise snuggled closer, leaning against his back, glowed hands wrapping around his waist. “I missed you,” she whispered.

What was it with clingy chicks anyway? Older ones he understood, they were in a hurry to find a suitable candidate to sire their children, but what made the baby, and now Rogue to treat him like he was some overgrown teddy bear?

“What do you want?” He asked. Even before the words left his mouth he realized that it was a mistake. Rogue scooted off from him instantly and when he turned she was returning to bed. He could smell her embarrassment. “What do you want?” He asked again. The damage was already done; he might as well get the answer now. “Nothing…” Came the muffled answer. “Bullshit, kid. You’re after something. Everybody is. Why don’t you spit it out?” He pressed on. “It’s nothing.” Her voice was trembling now. “It’s something when it’s making you cry. Talk to me, kid.” For that Rogue rewarded him with a pillow. It came in low, hitting him squarely to the crotch. Again it was a stroke of luck that her chosen projectile had been a pillow instead of the heavy lamp standing on the table next to bed.

He stalked closer and trapped Rogue against the bed with the blanket she had been clutching. He waited until she stopped struggling, then leaned closer to look in to her eyes. “What. Do You. Want?” He asked. Rogue’s lower lip was trembling, but the fight didn’t leave her eyes when she whispered her answer. “I want you to stop calling me a kid,” she hissed, renewing her efforts to gain her freedom. “And what would it change if I stopped doing that… Kid?” He asked.

When the blanket refused to budge the girl resorted to her last option. He had the time to see a brief flicker of hesitation in her eyes before her lips slammed to his. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the burning pain that was sure to come. His momentarily confusion gave Rogue enough room to wriggle her hands free and she grasped his hair, pulling him even closer to his demise. And it never came.

When he came up for the air Rogue was staring at him flabbergasted. She seemed to be as puzzled over the situation as he. “You still don’t know how to turn it off?” His question was more of a rhetorical than anything else, but Rogue shook her head to confirm. Their gazes trailed over the room as one, stopping to the baby who slept peacefully in the improvised cot right next to the bed.

“It’s… She’s a mutant?” Rogue stuttered when he retreated from the bed, his eyes fixed to the baby. “More like an anti-mutant. Out. Now.” He grunted, not waiting for the girl to follow, and fled from the room.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rogue asked, peering from the doorstep. He stood in the pouring rain, feeling the last vestiges of the headache washing out of his system. Everything came back. Noises and scents of the night, sickening clarity rushing over his field of vision, sharpening his eyes until he could see even the smallest grains of sand at his feet. He fell heavily on his knees, fresh and brisk air filling his lungs and the brightness of the neon lights making his eyes water. He could hear Rogue taking few hesitant steps towards him, then falling to the ground, gasping for air and screaming.

He managed to scoot where she lay. When she started to sit up and tried to grasp his bare arm for support he moved out of her reach. “It’s back. Your mutation. It’s back just like mine. We’re off from its reach…” He said. “The baby… It’s… The baby…” Rogue stuttered, blinking back tears. “Yeah. It can suck off socks even from your feet, kid. How’s that for a mutation?” He huffed.

They crept back in to the room. Abandoning the baby really wasn’t an option. And now it looked like leaving it with the social services was even a poorer one. If there was one thing that Magneto had been right about, it was the fact that a war was brewing at the horizon. The baby would be used as a weapon in that war if humans got their hands on it.

“But we have to be careful. We’re just humans now…” Logan grunted, flopping on to the bed on his back. Rogue snorted. “Speak for yourself, big guy. You’re the one with super-heal. I just suck,” she sighed, curling over the recliner, her gaze on the sleeping baby. He couldn’t help it. The mental image her words conjured made him choking out rather unmanly fit of giggles. “Yeah. You suck, darling. Just like our baby. IRS would be fucking proud to have you two on their payroll…” He blurted. “Our baby? Darling? What has gotten in you?” Rogue asked. “Christ. First you nearly take my head off for calling you a kid, then it’s not good if I call you darling, either? What the fuck should I call you then?” He huffed exasperated. “Marie would do just fine. I like how it sounds coming from your mouth…” Rogue whispered.
He had deliberately left her other question unanswered. He wasn’t willing to admit his little slip-up even to himself, but the truth was, that some time during the night he had started regarding the baby as his. But he did have a question of his own.

“Why did you try to kill me?” He asked, more hurt than scared. Rogue kept her gaze on the scenery outside of the window. “Why did you kiss me?” She asked. “Last time I checked it was you who kissed me, not the other way around,” he sputtered. Rogue turned to look at him. “You didn’t have to kiss me back. I was just trying to scare you off from me… Darling,” she said. “Oh, really? That’s why I got your tongue shoved down at my throat? You sure do have funny way of scaring people off…” He grunted. Rogue turned her gaze back to the window.

She was most likely telling the truth. In all honesty he should have been afraid. He should have bolted off from the bed when their lips met. And he shouldn’t have let her deepen the kiss, or to start answering to it when it became apparent that her mutation wasn’t working.

“Well… Call it temporary insanity. Won’t happen again,” he finally huffed, closing his eyes and wondering who the hell was spewing that bullshit from his mouth tonight.
Chapter 4 by aranenumenesse
Author's Notes:
And next pic: http://roudevil.deviantart.com/art/One-Size-Does-Not-Fit-All-75902765
Eep. I hope I didn't mangle your vision completely...
When morning came it dragged unusually cold weather at its wake. Glittering frost covered every surface, and made roads slippery. Luckily Rogue had packed warm clothes for the baby, but her own jacket was woefully inadequate for the chill conditions.

“Are you sure about this?” She asked, twisting and turning in front of the mirror. “Aren’t you going to get cold?” She asked. Logan shook his head. “I’m going to be just fine.” “Well, if you say so…” Rogue said, tugging the sleeves of his jacket a bit higher. It was far too big for her. She could have used it as a tent if an emergency struck, but at least it was warmer than her own jacket. She let go of the hem of it and it instantly fell past her hips, down to her thighs. “My God, Logan! This thing is huge!” She huffed. “Well, there’s a lot to cover…” He smirked, stepping behind her for comparison. She stared at their reflection for a while and then swallowed. “Uh… You could say so…” She whispered. The top of her head barely reached the hollow of his throat. T-shirt he was wearing revealed arms as thick as her thighs. Hands that rested on her shoulders looked wide and strong enough to snap her in half.

Suddenly she felt herself very small, and when her gaze shifted to Logan’s eyes, something very old and feral was staring back at her. She froze. Like a rabbit on a ray of light. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

It was over as sudden as it started. When she snapped out of her stupor Logan had already picked up the baby from the bed, and looked just about as harmless as a big, burly beast of a man could look with squirming bundle of drooling little girl on his arms. “You take this,” he said shoving the baby to Rogue. “Huh? What am I supposed to do with it?” She asked stunned. Logan smirked. “Tsk, tsk… ‘What am I going to do with her’, Rogue. It’s a she, not it…” He said, wagging his index finger. “We’re going to Xavier’s. I’m riding the bike. You’re driving a car. Do the math, kid,” he continued, stomping out before she had the time to protest.

When she got at her car Logan roared past her, seemingly in awful hurry. But by the time she had the baby strapped to the children’s seat he returned, spraying small pebbles to the side of the car as the motorcycle skidded to halt. “You better wait at the front gate when we get to Xavier’s! I don’t know about you and me, but there are people who that critter can really hurt! I’ll drive in and talk to Xavier!” He shouted over the noise of the engine. She nodded, then reached over and placed her hand on his forearm. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright without jacket?” She asked. “I’m fine as soon as I get out of her range!” He shouted, then gunned the engine and drove off.

It was a tricky task. He wasn’t about to let Rogue and her precious cargo out of his sight, but he couldn’t let them too close either. He found out that if he kept two cars between them he felt just fine. Any closer and coldness grasped him, making him numb and his every muscle cramp and shiver.

Of course he could have called to Xavier, but he was paranoid to the bone. Trait that had saved his hide oftentimes before. He wasn’t going to be the person who let out the rumor about the perfect weapon against mutants, and anybody could be listening phone conversations. Few hours in a freezing weather on a motorbike was a cheap price to pay for the secrecy. And this way he had the time to clear his head. He wasn’t going to step in front of a powerful telepath, remnants of his latest dream still swirling around in his head.

At some point in the wee hours of dawn he had fallen to a light slumber. He had lain on the bed, not quite sleeping, but not awake either. And she had come to him. Rogue. Naked as the day she was born. He had touched her, his fingers skimming over her ivory skin, all the way from her lower abdomen to her perky breasts and rosy nipples. She had sat there, straddling him, her eyes locked to his, barely breathing, tilting her head back and closing her eyes when he had rolled her nipples gently between his fingers.

Not bad for a guy who usually dreamt of painful surgical experiments performed on him, but somehow he doubted Xavier’s ability to see the beauty in that particular fantasy. Logan had to admit that the dream had been realistic enough to give him an honest scare right before he woke up. He had half expected to find nude Rogue sitting on his lap when he opened his eyes, and even if it had been good, leading to all kinds of nice things, one fact remained. She was just a kid. Very mature, very grown up and capable of helping him to fix the mess he had stumbled upon, but deep down just a confused teenager.

He gunned the engine and weaved past the cars separating him from the one Rogue was driving. Getting in was easy. It took several minutes before he really started to get cold. He tried to peer in to the car, but it was impossible. Xavier had had all of the mansion’s cars rebuilt. From the outside they were still perfectly normal SUV’s, but innards were completely another issue, and tinted windows were part of the package.

When the coldness and the breeze got unbearable he drew back, bracing himself for the inevitable dizziness as his mutation slammed back on full force. He managed to keep the bike steady and congratulated himself. He was getting the hang of it. Maybe given enough time he could develop immunity to the baby. Weirder things had happened. For Rogue the baby would do good, that was sure. All she had to do was to keep the brat close enough and she wouldn’t have to worry over her own mutation anymore.

He shook his head. “You’re a fucking moron, Wolverine… If it looks to be too good to be true, it probably is just right that,” he grunted. The baby’s mutation was just a little too convenient.
Chapter 5 by aranenumenesse
Author's Notes:
Next pic: http://roudevil.deviantart.com/art/Canon-75902698
When only few miles separated them from Xavier’s grounds Logan gestured Rogue to pull over to the side of the road. He needed to talk to her. Or at least that’s what he kept telling to himself, all the while trying to find something to say, his eyes trailing over the girl behind the steering wheel to a completely another girl gurgling at the back seat. “Uh… I was thinking… It’s cold out here. There’s a small diner not too far from the mansion, just couple of miles down the road. Maybe you should take the brat and wait me there?” He asked. Rogue shrugged. “Fine. Might get something to eat as well,” she said rubbing her stomach. They had fed the baby, but Logan had been too anxious to eat, wanting to get on to the road as soon as possible so she hadn’t eaten a thing since the supper last night.

Logan nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt. It wouldn’t have made any difference even if they had stopped to eat sooner. They were not on the run, there was nobody chasing them. “My wallet’s in the breast pocket of that jacket. Breakfast…” He scanned their surroundings and coughed. “… Dinner is on me. That okay?” He asked. Rogue nodded, grin spreading from ear to ear. Then it faded somewhat. “What about you? Aren’t you hungry?” She asked. Logan shook his head. Not a complete lie. He was hungry as hell, but too jittery to eat. He’d talk to Xavier first, find out what to do with the baby first. Then he could eat.

He drove through the gates and along the driveway, straight in to the garage, scaring Scott and his mechanics class in the process. He waited until Scott excused the students and they were alone in the garage before stepping down from the motorcycle.

“Logan,” Scott greeted him politely. He nodded his own greeting. “I came to see Xavier. Is he back already?” He asked. Scott shook his head. “They’re in Milan. But they should be back next week.” “Next week? How long can a one lousy conference… Shit!” He kicked a collection of neatly organized wrenches on the floor, sending them scattered all over the place. “I take it that this is about the baby?” Scott asked instead of scolding him from making a mess. “How the hell do you know about it?” He asked flabbergasted. “You really think I would have let Rogue in to the night with Xavier’s best car if she hadn’t given me a good reason to do so? Speaking of which, where the hell are they? Rogue and the baby?” Scott asked. “I thought it would be better if they waited outside. The baby is a mutant. With active mutation.”

Scott stared him in silence for a long while. “This is a school for mutants, Logan,” he finally blurted. “I’m not stupid, flyboy. But that little critter has an interesting mutation. She cancels out everybody else’s powers. Seeing as few kids around here would get in to serious trouble if their mutation was suddenly turned off I thought it would be better to come in alone at first,” Logan spat. Again a brief silence. Then Scott made his decision. “Take me to them.”

Scott was driving. There was no way he was going to trust Logan behind the wheel of his favorite car. After a little persuasion and lots of cajoling Logan had given up and flopped down on the passenger’s side. There was no way he would be able to trust Scott behind any kind of steering wheel, but if he wanted to see the baby and Rogue today he had no choice in the matter.

“Are you sure about this? The baby having an active mutation? Most of us manifest during periods of heightened stress, no sooner before we reach our teens. And I know great deal of mutants who have never manifested,” Scott asked. “Believe me, the brat is the real deal…” “How do you know?” Scott asked. “Well… For starters, I wasn’t having these before I found it…” Logan grunted, plucking something from his temple. Few silvery strands of grey hair, small enough amount to disappear amidst black ones, but easy to detect with his sharp eyes. Scott let out a low whistle. “And Rogue touched me. Nothing happened,” he added quickly, hoping that third degree interrogation wouldn’t follow. For his relief Scott was still so wrapped up to the idea of the youngest mutant he had ever met that what Logan said sailed straight past his ears. “This isn’t good. Not good at all, Logan...” Scott muttered. “Tell me about it. Well, it’s good for Rogue. Who knows, maybe for you as well. You could finally trash those visors of yours. But… Shit.” Scott turned to look at him. “We have to hide the baby somehow. Xavier… He’d most likely welcome it with open arms and try to find a way to minimize the effects of its mutation until it was old enough to control it by itself. Good idea, but I highly doubt that it would work. And I can’t even begin to imagine what would happen if humans found out about the baby,” he spoke with a low, quiet voice. “Lucky you. My imagination has been running rampant ever since we found out what the brat can do, and let me tell you, things that keep popping in to my mind aren’t nice,” Logan grunted.

“We’re here,” Scott said, turning to the parking lot of the diner. “What the fuck is going on in here?” Logan asked, tearing out from the car before Scott had it properly parked.

The place was an utter chaos. Large front windows of the diner were broken, tables and chairs thrown through them. Inside it looked like a world war three had erupted. People and mutants of all kinds were battling each other, shouting, screaming, kicking, scratching and using everything and anything at hand as improvised weapons. “Logan, you moron… You send her to the only diner around that caters for mutants as well?” Scott scolded him.

He hurried inside, Scott close at his heels and spotted Rogue and the baby at the far corner of the diner, hiding behind an overturned table. He fought his way through the bickering and bantering crowd to them and slipped over their improvised barrier. “How’s it going, kid?” He asked. Rogue had a bloodied lip and her left shoulder hung in an odd angle, probably dislocated. She was just barely conscious, and from the sight of him she let go of the baby. “Take care of her…” She whispered.

He scooped both girls at his arms, intending just to walk out like he had just walked in. Scott was doing his best to distract the crowd, but as soon as Logan stood up all eyes turned to him, and the baby cooing at his arms. The whole diner fell eerily silent. “Don’t let me interrupt you, I’m just grabbing these two and we’ll be out of your hair in no time…” He grunted, stepping over the table and the debris littering the floor, jostling Rogue and the baby so that he could hold them with one hand only, leaving the other free. “Kill the baby!” A woman with green hair and a tail, an obvious mutant, suddenly screeched, raising a chorus of acceptances from the crowd. Logan shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck is your problem, but anybody who wants a piece of these two will have to get through me first,” he growled, raising his free hand and releasing his claws.
Chapter 6 by aranenumenesse
Author's Notes:
The pic: http://roudevil.deviantart.com/art/Dying-of-a-Wolverine-75902178

I kind of took a liberty to turn the tables a bit... *cringes*
“Well, wasn’t that a brilliant idea,” Scott noted clapping his hands. “They left, didn’t they? Get this fucking leech off from me!” Logan grunted. “Which one?” Scott asked and earned a nasty glare from Logan who was struggling to stand up, a battle he was losing rapidly due to blood loss. As long as he was in close contact with the baby the wounds his claws had made when tearing out through his knuckles stayed open.

Patrons and the staff of the diner had cleared out from the first sign of the claws, most of them finally recognizing the man standing in front of them. Only few had stayed, but when Logan had raised his bloodied fist and licked one of the claws clean, feral gleam in his eyes they had quickly evacuated leaving Scott to sort things out.

Logan let out a relieved sigh when Scott released him from the baby. “Get out. Get in to the car, just in case if those yahoos decide to come back… I’ll come with you as soon as…” He slid on to the floor, leaning his back against the counter and waving his injured hand, painting a crimson trail around him. “What about Rogue?” Scott asked. “Get that fucking baby out of here first!” Logan growled.

His vision was already blurring. His heart was working overtime, trying to compensate the lack of blood. He reached for Rogue as soon as he could feel his strength starting to return. The girl was unconscious, and it took an effort to jostle her over, but finally he got her exactly where he wanted, cradled against his chest, her forehead only inches from his lips.

He laid there for a long moment, just waiting and listening his body, swaying on the hazy ground between pain and oblivion. If he as much as moved his pinkie powerful tremors started, dragging cold sweat from every pore and churning nausea at the pit of his stomach. It was better to stay still and wait.

They couldn’t retreat to Xavier, too many lives at risk there. He couldn’t send the kid on her way with the baby; they wouldn’t survive alone on the road. He couldn’t take off with the baby alone, in the best case scenario he probably could keep it alive for a while, but babies needed taking care of and he lacked the knowledge of how to do that. He’d have to heal Rogue so that she could take care of the baby. He’d have to heal himself so that he could take care of both of them.

As soon as he wasn’t about to pass out or puke his guts out when he moved he raised his good hand and grasped a fistful of Rogue’s hair, marveling how pure the white streak on her forehead looked. “Well, here goes nothing, kid…” He brought her closer and kissed her forehead.

For a long moment nothing happened. It was the Statue of the Liberty all over again. Seconds ticked by, turning to minutes. “Come on, kid… Come on…” He murmured drawing her closer until her face was resting at the crook of his neck. She was out cold, passed out with her mutation turned off. Perhaps it took a conscious effort to turn it back on once the baby had turned it off? He didn’t know.
When he turned his head he saw Scott standing on the doorway, his back turned and his gaze combing the abandoned parking lot constantly. He spat out the bitter saliva burning at the back of his throat and shook Rogue hard, hoping to rouse her. “Come on, kid… Trying to bail out from your duties?” It wasn’t working. Every passing minute he felt physically better, but an awful cold and twisting feeling at the back of his mind wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t working. He was touching her skin on skin, and it wasn’t working. Only way Rogue’s skin should have been rejecting him was if she were dead.

He shook her again. There was no way he was going to let her die now. Not now, not like this. She had a whole life ahead of her. It wasn’t her place to drop and play dead because bunch of freaks couldn’t accept a little different baby at their midst. It hadn’t even been her battle, her war to wage to begin with.

He scooted a bit upwards, dragging her lifeless form with him. His injured hand protested, but it was already healing rapidly, torn tissues knitting back together at sickening pace. He grasped the front of the jacket she was wearing, forcing her up and facing him.

Her face was pale, her lips slightly parted. Eyes closed as if she was just sleeping. He brought her closer. “I’ll fucking mutilate your corpse and feed it to fucking skunks if you dare to go and die on me… You hear me, kid? I’ll… I’ll carve your gravestone… I’ll carve ‘Kid’ on it, then maybe a sissy poem about kittens and kids and sugar and…” It wasn’t working. It wasn’t working. He raised one hand, holding her up with the other. Cradled her face with his palm, running the pad of his thumb over her lips, his eyes scanning something, anything, a sign that there still was life inside of the lifeless husk he was holding.

Rogue’s mutation slammed back on full force.

Agonized scream tore forth, making Scott spun around and barge in. Logan wasn’t completely sure of how much was enough, or how much would be too much for him, but as soon as he heard Rogue’s shoulder snapping back in alignment he started to struggle to get away from her. It wasn’t working; his whole body was rigid from the pain, every muscle and tendon paralyzed. “Scott…” He managed to gurgle right before darkness fell.
Chapter 7 by aranenumenesse
Author's Notes:
Thanks to RouDeVil for new pics. And here's today's pic: http://roudevil.deviantart.com/art/Free-Fallin-76154958
He was falling. Spinning and twirling around rapidly, Rogue’s face a small fading dot at the distance above him. Her lips were moving, she was trying to say something, shouting after him? He kept descending, wondering would he ever stop. And if he did, how? With a sudden crash that would crush even his indestructible frame, splattering him all over the place like an ugly mural? Would he have the time to realize it happened, or would it be so blessedly sudden that he wouldn’t know a thing? Had he already stopped and only imagined this merry trek downwards, his brain incapable to comprehend that it was over?

He squinted his eyes and tried to focus on something. There was only darkness around him, and somewhere high up there Rogue. He sought her eyes, those brown orbs. It almost felt like he could hear her this way. Could hear her pleas and sobs, her worried and broken voice whispering over and over again a litany that was disturbingly familiar, yet completely alien at the same. What the hell was her problem? The baby was fine, at least had been fine the last he checked. So was Rogue. At least she should have been. He was quite sure that he had heard her strangled gasp as his body failed him and darkness took him in its embrace.


He opened his eyes and took a shuddering breath. Rolled on his side coughing and gagging, trying to scramble on his hands and knees, a task nearly impossible even harder with crying Rogue wrapped around him. “Kid… Let go… Let me go…” He tried to shoo her off, but that seemed only to strengthen her determination. She got him, and she wasn’t going to let him go no matter what. Finally he settled to lie on a heap on the floor, letting his gaze wander over the debris and rubble littering their surroundings.

“Eventually you have to let go… We need to get going…” He murmured. Rogue’s death grip from around him loosened a bit, then she let go of him and sat back, wiping her reddened eyes. “Sorry… I thought… I was so scared that you wouldn’t wake up…” She sniffled. “You could have woken the dead with the ruckus and wailing you kept going… Had no other option but to come back…” He grunted sitting up. Then scrunched his forehead. “Where’s Scott? And the brat?” He wobbled up, steadying himself against the counter when his knees threatened to give up. The parking lot outside was empty.

“They left hours ago. He’s been checking back every half an hour to see if you’re awake already.” “Left? To where? And why?” Logan asked, more than slightly miffed. Scott had left Rogue alone with a dying man, an experience that every growing kid should go through at some point in their life. “It’s the baby. She’s getting stronger. She was able to reach us from the parking lot. Scott had to leave so that you could heal.”

He wasn’t going to ask the question that kept nagging at the back of his mind. Rogue wouldn’t have an answer. But Scott should have. What if he hadn’t healed? What if the strain had been too much for him to bear? Would Rogue have been strong enough to cope with it on her own?

“Are you alright now? Really alright?” He heard the question, but right now he was more interested in getting out of here and getting in touch with Scott than playing twenty questions. “Logan, are you alright?” He looked at her, standing at his side, tugging his arm, fear and worry still evident on her face. He threw his arm over her shoulders and started shuffling through the mess. “I’m fine, kid. Just fine…”

Not really fine, but given few minutes he’d be back to his old self. All thanks to the girl at his side. He probably would have kept falling until he hit the rock-bottom if she hadn’t been pleading for him to come back. He wasn’t about to reveal that little fact to her. She had already deemed him as her hero and savior, crowned king of her heart. He wasn’t going to fuel those fantasies any more than it was absolutely necessary. At best it was awkward, the way she kept ogling him like he could lasso the moon from the sky and hand it over to her if she as much as hinted needing it.

What made it even more awkward was the fact that he would try. He would try to catch the goddamned orb of rock or die trying.

Screw the awkward, it was downright creepy.

They made their way through the wreckage. “When Scott is due back?” Logan asked, sitting on the concrete steps in front of the diner’s front door. “Shouldn’t take long. Couple of minutes?” Rogue estimated. For some reason she had fallen back to the constant state of squirming and blushing. He reached for her arm and yanked her down to his side. “Stop squirming. Makes me nervous.” “Oh. Okay…” Rogue whispered. For a while they just sat there. He was grateful for the silence. Gave him the time to think. Not that I did any good for him. He couldn’t have come up with the right words even if his life depended on it.

He kept stealing glances of her from the corner of his eye. Soon he would have to say something. Before Scott came back. He would have to come clean, sort it out before they had an audience.

He gave up. Better just spit it out. The kid was going to take it the wrong way no matter how he phrased it.

“Uh… I shouldn’t have kissed you. Not before, not now…” He started, nearly chickening out when her shoulders sagged. “I like you, kid. Like you a lot. But that’s what you are. You’re still a kid.” Disappointment rolled from her hunched form in suffocating waves. “I’ll always be thinking you as my girl. You’re the first, you’re the last. Just not… Probably not the way you’d want it to be. Want us to be…” His voice trailed off when the headlights swept the parking lot. Scott.

“I’m not trying to lead you on. I’m not trying to chase you away either. I just want you to know, that you’re important to me. Probably more important than you even realize right now, and I hope the dear God that you someday understand what the hell it is that I’m trying to say right now,” he finished his stuttering and wandering explanation. “I can understand it perfectly clear already…” Rogue hissed, standing up and walking to the waiting car, leaving him to cope the best of his abilities.

He rose and brushed off dirt from the back of his jeans, his gaze locked to her retreating back. “You think you understand, kid. You think…” He whispered.
Chapter 8 by aranenumenesse
“Professor Xavier has a summer house not too far from here. I can stay with Rogue and the baby until we figure out what to do next,” Scott promised. “I’m not leaving them. Besides, you’re better with this figuring out –business, and…” Logan started. “Aren’t you forgetting something? Me and Rogue, we’re perfectly okay with her mutation. For you… For all we know, you could die if you’re exposed to the baby’s mutation much longer! I’ll stay with Rogue, you’ll contact Professor Xavier and we’ll figure out what to do next,” Scott interrupted sharply. Logan had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that the younger man had a point. “But I’m coming with you to that cabin and check it out before we do anything else. Knowing Professor, there will be the state of the art security systems, but they’re wired wrong…” He grunted. Scott huffed. “Fine. But as soon as you have done with your little check-up, you’re going to get the fuck away from the baby,” he said.

Logan turned on his seat and reached over the backrest to tickle the baby’s feet. Marie glared at him openly from her seat and turned to look at the passing scenery. “There’s a supermarket little further down the road. We’ll stop there and stock up some supplies,” Scott said. Logan tuned out his voice as he went on about anything and everything they’d need, and turned his whole attention to the baby that was now in turn smirking and in turn chewing her fist. It was hard to admit that something so small and innocent could be his downfall. It was even harder to imagine that he should abandon her.

“Is it a good idea to touch her?” Scott’s question pierced the silence suddenly. “She’s a baby, Summers. Not a monster,” Logan grunted, but let go of the baby and turned back on his seat. “I know. I’m just worried. It’s not every day I see you fall on your knees in a battle,” Scott said. “I guess you’re right. I should keep my distance…”

After stocking up on diapers, baby formula and other necessities along with food for Scott and Rogue they drove to Xavier’s cabin. Logan wasn’t sure of what he had expected, but when the car pulled to a stop in front of a small, one story log cabin he smirked. The building looked nothing like he would have imagined. He couldn’t for the dear life of him see Professor Xavier sitting on the front porch and just enjoying the sun and silence. Lavish mansion was more his style.

“Professor used to come here often when he was younger. There’s a small lake not too far from here, and Professor often speaks how he used to go fishing with Eric,” Scott said, as if reading Logan’s thoughts. “That was, of course before WC.” “WC?” Logan asked, grabbing few of the bags from the trunk of the SUV. “Before he got in to the wheelchair,” Scott said.

Their belongings unpacked there was no much to do. Scott helped Logan to check their surroundings, and when nothing alarming came up, it was time for Logan to leave. “I’ll make sure that somebody brings you a car. And I contact Xavier for the first thing. Maybe he can figure out what to do next,” Logan said, one foot already in the SUV and one hand braced on the roof of it. “The most logical step would be…” Scott started. “The most logical thing to do would be to look for the mother of the baby. There has to be somebody. It’s not like she popped to existence out of a thin air,” Rogue interrupted him. Both men exchanged glances, then turned to look at the girl. “Kid… Whoever it was that left the baby in to that dive… That person probably had a good reason to do so. It’s quite safe to assume that the mother doesn’t want to have anything to do with her, or is dead,” Logan then said, silently wondering which of the reasons was more likely true. In this world there were no guarantees of either of them. “Of course we have to assume that the mother is alive and looking for the baby. But right now there’s no safe way to tell anybody about her. Too many people would love to get their hands on to a perfect weapon like her,” Scott said when Rogue looked none too pleased over Logan’s response. “A weapon? She’s just a baby!” Rogue huffed, clutching the girl on her arms closer to her. Scott turned to look at Logan who shrugged his shoulders. “Good luck explaining her that,” the older man grunted, stepped in to the car and drove off.

Curiously enough he felt the dizziness he had learned to accompany to the return of his mutation only after he left the Xavier’s property far behind. He assumed that the baby was still getting stronger. It worried him greatly. If her powers kept escalating at this rate, pretty soon it wouldn’t be safe for other mutants to share a city with her. Given enough time, would it be safe to be on the same fucking continent with her? What if… He shook his head. It wasn’t healthy to dwell on those thoughts too long. He dug his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans and dialed the Professor Xavier’s number. friendly, yet determined voice of a woman told him that currently Professor Xavier was out of reach, but if he’d like to leave a message, Professor would return shortly.

“This is fucking ridiculous…” He huffed and stashed his cell phone to the glove compartment after trying to reach both Ororo and Jean. He probably would have had better luck in calling to the president. Perhaps Rogue was right. The mother of the baby would be their best option now. Finding out what happened to her couldn’t hurt. Maybe they’d get this whole deal figured out before Professor, Jean and Ororo came back home? But where to look for clues of that mystery woman?

He stopped the car in front of ornate gates that closed the driveway to Xavier’s mansion. He wouldn’t find any answers from there. He’d have to return to the motel where this whole mess started.
This story archived at http://wolverineandrogue.com/wrfa/viewstory.php?sid=2441