Someone was watching. Her senses told her, her trained mind confirmed it. Someone had been lurking in the shadows for days, and all she could do was wait for them to come out.

*******

The wind tugged at her long ponytail, whipping loose strands of deep brunette around her face. The streaks of icy white were long gone, concealed by an unfaltering commitment to hair dye. Logan had found the discarded box of hair color while snooping through her garbage bin the night before. He’d scoped out the house yesterday, just like today. He’d watched with covetous eyes as Marie went about a day in her life. She’d piled the kid into the Jeep in the early morning, headed out for work and kindergarten, and returned in the late afternoon. Today she was home, working in the yard while the kid was at school.

Logan chanced the opportunity to break cover and move in closer. Marie had carved out a decent life for herself. Modest house in the suburbs, work at a small legal practice, and a son that looked healthy and happy, but there’d been few signs of Daddy. He was probably one of those traveling professionals, a salesman or some crap; gone a lot, but treated her right and fit right into her new world. No one would ever suspect that Marie used to be a mutant; a freak. Not just a harmless freak either. No, she had been one of the dangerous ones, just like Logan.

Her new friends would never know of her sacrifice for a chance to touch, an opportunity to be normal. She’d stuck around Xavier’s for a while, even gone to law school, but then she’d gotten tangled up with one of the mutants at the mansion. The guy tried to screw her up good too. He’d put her through the mother of all mind fucks and Logan hated the bastard. He wanted to gut him for it…and he had tried, but never could finish the job. He had never hated his own mutation more, because he deserved to die for what he’d done to Marie.

Was it five years ago that he’d run away from the school, the team, Marie, everything? It was hard to keep track of time when the years didn’t wear on you. He’d gone back eventually, but Marie wasn’t there.

He had told himself he was glad she was gone. He didn’t want to deal with it, and maybe she’d finally get on with her life. He didn’t need to see her face, hear her voice, or find out how truly damned he was. He convinced himself he didn’t need her to be there, even if it was a lie. He didn’t want or deserve her forgiveness either. He needed the guilt, he needed the loathing. Time hadn’t eased those emotions, but seeing her now lifted some of the burden. She was doing better than the rest of them. She was better off in this world.

Logan watched Marie yank weeds from a bed of pansies like she was fighting back demons. She was still in great shape, and by all accounts seemed healthy. Only one thing bothered him about the whole scene. Even from this distance, he knew her signs; she was nervous - and scared. She wasn’t a contented soccer mom going to and from home, relaxed in her little bit of suburbia. Despite the niche she had found in this normal life, she was on constant alert.

Logan could sense it in her posture, see it in her watchful eyes every time she took the kid somewhere, the nervous energy she exuded even while doing yard work. Maybe she was skittish because her man was away from home, maybe she sensed she was being watched, but Logan’s gut told him it was something more. He didn’t like it. He’d hurt Marie before, but emotional pain was different to physical pain. Even if he didn’t have a right, he was hardwired to protect her.

Logan’s intention had been just to check; one last look to make sure she was safe, before vanishing from the grid completely. He’d picked up on her anxiety and needed reassurance, more than just a visual. He told himself that’s all it was. He didn’t take the time to question the other intentions that quickly moved one foot in front of the other, crossing him over to her front yard.

*******

Marie sensed him before she saw him. He always changed everything around her when he got close. It was like his presence altered the air itself. She felt it, felt the atmosphere change to become heavy and full. She swallowed hard and rose to her feet before he entered the yard. Logan stopped a few feet in front of her. They watched each other in silence, waiting for the other to do or say something.

She hadn’t changed. Up close, Logan could see that her face was exactly as he remembered. She’d lost some of the soft roundness of youth, but her complexion was still fair and smooth. Her skin looked deceptively cool, but he knew different. With him, every time he touched her, it was vibrant and warm, flushed with life. It colored even now, and his fingers itched to brush across her cheek.

“Marie,” he finally said, keeping his hands by his sides.

“Logan,” her voice was matter of fact, but she wasn’t blinking.

Another endless moment passed before she spoke again.

“What are you doing here?”

There was no anger in her voice, no derision, just honest disbelief. Logan shifted his weight, tugging at his jacket. It was his version of vulnerable and only Marie ever made him feel it.

“I needed to see if you were okay before...things are bad right now…”

“We should get inside,” she interrupted sharply, already mounting the stairs of the porch, “before someone sees you.”

*****

The inside of Marie’s house was not what one would call cozy. It was functional, but minimal. No fuss, no knick-knacks, just the basics. To Logan’s eye it looked like the kind of place where anyone could live…and take off on short notice.

“You shouldn’t be here Logan. What if someone followed you? You could bring a world of shit down on us. Are you sure no one tailed you?”

He gave her a sharp look to remind her he was better than that. No way was the Wolverine followed. No way in hell. She seemed to accept it as an answer and led him through the house.

“It was hard to locate you,” he said, taking in the sights and trying to grasp the fact that he was in Marie’s house. There weren’t many pictures around, just a couple of child’s drawings on the fridge and group shot including Marie and her son at a picnic. He was curious about her new family, but knew he had no right to ask.

“Obviously not hard enough, you found me.”

“Yeah, but I’m the best there…”

“Save it. What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything,” he answered and tried not to feel injured by her tone.

“Not likely.”

She looked at him, grabbing at the reality of him standing in her kitchen.

“I knew the government would never catch you. You’re too good at running.” Marie silently cursed herself. The words sounded resentful, and resentment meant you cared.

“I guess I deserve that,” Logan replied coolly.

“Ah hell Logan, I didn’t say it because you deserve it. It’s true.” She decided to give up on the farce that they could remain cool and detached and be in the same room together.

Marie let out a sigh and paced the length of the kitchen. She told herself she’d eventually recover from the shock of seeing him again, but she didn’t like him being this close, for a lot of reasons. Reason number one, he was Logan. Once love and lover of her life, he’d left a hole in her and it’d taken years, YEARS, to stop the bleeding. Reason number two, and most important she reminded herself, Logan was a wanted man. Sure he was probably the most skilled mutant out there at evading the authorities and surviving, but it didn’t change the fact that people were looking for him. He’d draw attention and that was just what she didn’t want.

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he tried for a calm tone.

His misplaced and ill-timed concern chafed her to the bone.

“Well as you can see for yourself, I’m fine. Rest assured that I am okay and have been for a while now. So if you could leave as quietly as you came and kindly get the hell away from me.”

Logan wasn’t convinced. It was obvious his attention was unwanted, but he’d take his licks if it was necessary for her well-being. He owed her at least that much.

“You don’t act fine, Marie. I’ve seen you. You’re as nervous as a scalded cat and you’ve always sucked at lying, so try again.”

“You’re a stubborn old bastard, anyone ever tell you that? I’m nervous because you’re here. Haven’t you heard mutants are public enemy number one? So far, I’ve been safe, but if the government gets so much as a whiff that I used to be a mutant, they will not hesitate to haul me in…and I’ve got people that need me now. I don’t need you lurking around, you draw attention.”

She’d paused for a moment, but now the pacing picked up speed.

“Your family needs you, I get that. I’m not lookin’ to bring you trouble and I’m not planning on hanging around, but I can tell everything isn’t fine with you. If you think you’re in danger, I want to help. It’s the least I owe you...”

“You owe me?!” she stopped in her tracks. “You want to help me. Now? I’m not the one who needs the help anymore. You do.”

Marie took a deep breath, irritated at his bravado and shocked that she was about to tell this man to leave. For years all she’d ever wanted him to do was stay.

“Logan, I know people. People that can help you get lost, get a new identity, disappear, whatever. If you need help, I can help you. If you’ve got a place to hide for the night, I’ll talk to them and we can make contact tomorrow.”

Logan crossed his arms over his chest while his face contorted into something bitter and defensive.

“I don’t need or want you to help me hide, although it looks like you did a damn good job of it yourself.”

Her eyes narrowed to venomous slits. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare try to make *me* out to be a coward. You don’t ever get to do that! It’s not about me now and the X-Men should be capable of taking care of themselves. My child is the one that needs me.”

“I know that! Shit.” Logan took a deep breath, trying to rein himself in. “I didn’t come here to argue with you…and I sure didn’t come here for your charity.”

“Then why the hell did you come here?!” she snapped at him.

Exhausted from even this short interaction with her, he let a moment of honesty slip through.

“Maybe I just needed to see you! Maybe I just needed this, one last time before I have to disappear until God only knows when.”

Silence fell and only the refrigerator made a sound as the two of them stood in her kitchen. They stared at the checkered tiles on the floor, the oven or the sink like they might spring to life. They looked at anything to avoid looking at each other.

Marie finally broke the silence by crossing to the phone to scribble on a pad that lay nearby.

“Look…my son will be home from school soon and I wouldn’t know how to begin to explain you. I’m going to give you my number. So if you’re still around tomorrow and feel…inclined, call me. Whether you want my help or not, I’ll still see what I can do. Maybe by tomorrow you’ll actually believe that I am okay…but after that, regardless, you need to go, for your safety and mine.”

Logan took the slip of paper from her hand and shoved it in his back pocket. He tried to think of something else to say, some way to tie up loose ends. He wouldn’t say thank you, any more than he’d say I’m sorry. Those were simple words, ordinary phrases that were grossly inappropriate for what was between them. So he didn’t say anything. He didn’t know if he’d call tomorrow, but he’d be back to watch her, even if for one last time.

**********

Logan didn’t call the next day. He showed up on her front porch instead. Before he even managed a knock, Marie had the door jerked open and he was shuffled inside.

“Jesus Logan. You were supposed to call. I thought you’d left already.”

He took a long look into her worried eyes as she gazed up at him. He thought maybe he still saw some warmth there, even behind the clipped tone.

“Didn’t call because I don’t need the help, but…I wanted to say goodbye this time.”

“Oh,” she replied and looked down at her hands; the slender fingers, the creases and lines that made them a woman’s hands, not a little girl’s. She’d been a girl when he left her, but it was a woman who stood before him now; so why did she always feel a little more childlike, a little bit helpless, whenever he was around? She felt an innate need to lean on him, to open up, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t, never again. She wasn’t a child anymore, dammit, and she definitely wasn’t helpless. Obviously, Logan wasn’t helpless either.

“Well, dropping by is a nice enough gesture but it’s not necessary. I’m fine here, really. You take care of yourself,” she said succinctly.

Logan could take a hint and knew when he was being rushed off. He could let her have her way and leave obediently, but that wasn’t going to happen. He had something to say first.

“You know, you got a good life here. I never could’ve given you this.” He shook his head to stop her interruption. “It’s not an excuse, just the truth.”

“As you see it, you mean? The truth as you see it,” Marie laughed at the irony. “Maybe so Logan. Maybe you couldn’t have given me this…or maybe you just wouldn’t.”

She heard a car door slam and realized it was time for the car pool to drop off her son. Glancing nervously at her watch, she ordered Logan over her shoulder as she went towards the door.

“Wait right there.”

She quickly made her way outside to intercept her child. She wanted him to play in the backyard just until Logan left. She didn’t want to explain the intimidating man who was talking with Mommy. Never one to follow instructions well, Logan quietly eased out onto the front porch. Curiosity over Marie’s kid finally got the best of him.

She was kneeling down to his eye level and was fussing with his shirt while she spoke softly to him. It was a natural, every day occurrence, but somehow, Logan felt like he was intruding on a private moment. Their bond was obvious and her devotion surrounded them, making Logan feel all the more the outsider.

The boy looked healthy and strong. He had his mother’s fair coloring and dark brown hair. He had her mouth too, but the eyes … the eyes were different. Marie turned and shifted uneasily as Logan moved closer. Her son’s eyes were light and brightly aware, seemingly absorbing everything. They watched Logan closely, aware of his every movement. For someone so young, his eyes were exceptionally cunning and sharp, almost animal like…what some might even call – feral.

Recognition hit Logan and drained the blood from his face.

“Marie?” he said, sounding confused yet dangerous.

“Honey,” she leaned towards the boy protectively, “why don’t you go play in the back while Mommy finishes talking to this man, okay? It’s okay; I’ll be there in just a minute.”

Logan felt his world tip on its axis as he watched the boy eye him suspiciously and begrudgingly leave to round the side of the house.

“Marie,” he said.

She didn’t answer him, but stared silently in the direction of her child

“Marie,” he said again, his voice louder as he grabbed her arm. “Look at me. Tell me - tell me the boy isn’t mine. Dammit Marie! Tell me that’s not our son!”

“Why won’t you look at me?” Logan shook her as if the movement might make the words come out.

“Is it?” he demanded. “Talk to me. Is that our son?!”

Marie shoved at his hands, trying to remove the grip he had on her.

“Let me go, Logan,” she hissed at him.

“Not until you answer me,” he growled in return.

“You’re causing a scene, the neighbors will see,” she tried pleading.

“I don’t give a damn what the neighbors see! Answer me!”

Marie’s eyes were clear as they sliced through him.

“Why are you asking me when you already know the answer?”

Using his moment of shock to break his hold, she rushed into the house with Logan right on her heels.

“Marie!” he shouted down the hall, following her to the kitchen.

Her name was a plea and a prayer. Please, don’t let it be true because his was not a legacy worth passing on. Oh God, let it be true, because he could think of nothing more beautiful.

Marie moved to put the table between the two of them and realized that until now, she’d never seen Logan shake with fear. His eyes were trained on her and in them she saw hurt, and his need to hear her say the words. She tried to make them come out evenly, feigning a calm she didn’t feel.

“Yes Logan. He’s our son…of course he is.”

Logan let his knees go, knowing they wouldn’t fully support him anyway, and fell onto a stool. He pressed his palms against the cool tile of the table top and stared down, not seeing anything. He saw nothing and everything at the same time.

Everything they had shared when they were lovers. Every promise, every whispered word he’d meant for no one else but her, for Marie. He’d always blinded himself to the pain he’d put her through back then, but it was right in front of him now. He was responsible for hurting the one person he’d promised to take care of. He’d left, so she’d cut him out of her life like a tumor. But she’d kept the child a secret. She’d kept his son from him. It was a betrayal as painful as any he had inflicted. The rush of conflicting emotion was immediate and so intense that he could only choose one. He chose anger.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked with venom in his voice.

“How could I? You weren’t around.”

“You could’ve found me! You know damn well you could’ve found me. I had a right to know!”

“Yeah you did, but no, I couldn’t find you,” she argued, “and I’d be damned if I was going to spend my whole life looking for a man who didn’t want to be found. I wasn’t going to hunt you down to tell you that now you had the one thing you didn’t want. Never mind being anchored to me … how ‘bout me and a baby? And I sure as hell didn’t want your pity or guilt.”

“Well I guess you showed me then, didn’t you?” he bit off sharply.

“Fuck you, Logan.” Her voice held a cold fury that had been locked away so long it was numbing.

She put both hands on the island and leaned down into his face to meet him eye to eye.

“It wasn’t about showing you a goddamn thing. You left. This is exactly what you didn’t want and you left. If you’d ever had a change of heart, you could’ve found *me*.”

Marie turned her back on him then, walking to the sliding glass door to watch her child play outside. His child … their child. When she wasn’t looking at him with those eyes he knew so well, those eyes that could console or condemn him, his hands itched with the need to reach out and touch her, feel her under his fingertips. Sometimes he wished that for just a moment her mutation would return, just so he could touch her and make her understand.

Another lifetime seemed to pass in silence before Logan spoke.

“How old is he?” she heard the gravelly voice ask from behind her.

“Just turned four.”

Logan used it to reference how long ago he’d left. He’d been right; it was almost five years ago.

“What’s his name?”

“Charles,” she answered, placing a fingertip on the glass.

Charles. He had a son named after the most powerful and gifted person he’d ever met; someone who’d given him and Marie a home and a chance. He liked the name.

The tiles beneath Logan’s hands came into focus now; anger no longer his strongest emotion. He glanced back at Marie, watching her watch Charles. They could hurt each other like no one else could, but still, here they were. He’d missed out on so much, too much time that he couldn’t get back. It was a cruel joke for someone who had all the time in the world. He moved to stand behind her so he could see what they’d created. Inhaling her scent, the one that was just Marie, he swallowed back the memories flashing before his eyes and focused on the present. Charles was outside, stretched across a swing on his stomach, pushing off the ground and swinging as if flying like a super hero.

“Does he know…what did you tell him about who his father is?” he asked without looking away from the scene.

“What do you mean?”

Marie turned and was gazing up at him now, her arms wrapped around herself, holding her elbows. For the first time, Logan noticed she didn’t wear a ring on her finger.

“I mean, he doesn’t know…about me.”

“I told him that his father had to leave us because of work. That his work was dangerous and it wasn’t safe for us…but that he still loved him. He hasn’t asked for much more than that…yet.”

But he would. Eventually, the boy would want to know the truth.

He took a deep breath and scrubbed his hands up his face and through his hair.

“I shoulda been here,” he said simply.

She took a long look at him, thinking he actually appeared a little older than he did years ago. All the recent events showed on his face and today only added to it. She’d never understand all the regret he held onto. He clung to it like a protective shield, but couldn’t see that the shield blocked him off from anything that might heal. She couldn’t stand that look on his face. She preferred him angry, shocked, or viciously mean, anything but the damn guilt. He had left, and it had hurt, but she had moved on, and he needed to know that.

He needed to know that she and Charles had been fine all these years. Better than fine, his childhood had been wonderful for both of them. Motherhood had given Marie a real family, one that loved her unconditionally. She could hug her baby boy, kiss his nose, tuck him in, and rub his cheek like she’d seen another mother do on a train, so long ago. Their family would have been even more wondrous if Logan had been there, but just the two of them had been enough. She needed to show him that; proof that she and Charles were happy.

“Would you like to see some pictures? I mean, of him?”

Logan was lost in thought for a minute and then nodded silently.

Marie went to the hall and Logan eyed her suspiciously as she hauled a large black bag from the closet, rifled through it and pulled out a photo album. Didn’t people usually keep their pictures out on tables, or shelves?

She set the album on the island and motioned for Logan to sit. After stepping outside to tell Charles that she’d be out in a bit, she sat on the other stool and began to flip through the pages.

“This is his first picture from the hospital…he was kinda wrinkly, but I thought he was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.”

The adoration beamed from her face and Logan believed he could feel the warmth radiating off her.

“This is him once we came home. Some…um, friends of the Professor actually helped us get settled in…and…this is us about a week later…when I finally felt decent enough to have my picture taken,” she added with a grin.

He was transfixed by the picture. It was Marie, sitting in a cushioned rocking chair, holding Charles against her for the camera to see. Her face was a little fuller after giving birth and even then all her hair was dyed the same dark shade. It reminded him of how she looked when they first met. Charles had one chubby hand wrapped around her finger, and his eyes were slightly open. Logan wasn’t ready to flip the page and tapped a finger against the clear protective film.

“That’s…that’s a nice one. I like that one.”

Marie, seeing an open opportunity for a goodwill gesture, offered it to him. Even though he shook his head, she insisted as she removed the picture and forced it into his hand.

They flipped through pages of Charles’ early childhood, birthday parties, Christmas mornings, and even though Logan felt his heart wrench at times, he couldn’t help but smile with pride, especially at a picture of the boy with his first toy truck. One thing nagged at him: throughout the album it was mostly Charles and Marie. Other children were pictured, other parents made appearances, but no one person that was consistently with the pair. It was not lost on Logan that there didn’t seem to be anyone significant in Marie’s life other than her son. He looked fondly at the last and most recent photo of the pair at a costumed birthday party. Marie was Snow White and Charles was dressed up like Spiderman.

“You did a good job Marie. You’re a good mother,” he said, looking at her earnestly. He swore she blushed a little at the compliment, but she definitely smiled at him.

Uncomfortable with the moment, Logan cleared his throat and closed the book. Looking once again at his hand that laid across the cover, a sickening thought returned to him. He massaged the grooves of his knuckles nervously.

“Is he - do you know if he’s… you know…like me?” he asked, unsure how to form the question.

Marie knew what he meant. Blinking a few times she told him she didn’t know.

“It’s too early to know anything for sure. He’s years away from puberty and…I couldn’t risk taking him to Hank for testing. I…I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure…yeah.”

She fell quiet before adding, “But better like you than me.”

Logan wasn’t so sure. Thinking back on what was done to him, how he was used to other people’s ends, what was stolen from him, he couldn’t count his mutation as a blessing. It served him well now, but he wouldn’t wish it on anyone, much less his son. What if his boy was just like him? His mutation would manifest eventually and then what? The government and God knows who else would be on him like stink on shit. He wouldn’t let anyone do the things to his son that was done to him. Charles wouldn’t share his fate; he’d make sure of it. No one would ever take that boy from Marie either. He was her life, brought her joy, and Logan would make sure no one ever hurt her by using her child.

His mind was made up. Marie could hate him all she wanted, but he wasn’t going to leave them defenseless. Could he convince them to come with him? Into indefinite hiding – not likely. He couldn’t stay here and not be found. Maybe they could go somewhere off the radar…start off new. The idea appealed to him greatly, for reasons he wasn’t yet able to accept, but he knew she wouldn’t go for that either. The last thing she wanted was him back in her life.

He didn’t care. Whether she’d go for it or not, that’s what had to be done. He wasn’t going to take off and
leave them. If he questioned himself further, he’d know that Charles or no Charles, he wouldn’t leave her again, not now. He couldn’t.

“Marie,” he began slowly, “I need to talk to you about something.”

He looked her in the eye, hoping she’d at least let him finish.

“I think we…”

His sentence was interrupted by the loud, sickening crack of the front door being busted open.

Logan lunged to his feet as the door gave way. The last thing he remembered before turning his berserker rage towards the soldiers in black was Marie grabbing the large duffle bag and rushing for her son.

“Charles!” Marie yelled as she launched herself off the back deck. She had already pulled the Browning 380 from its pocket in the bag, concealing it within her jacket, and everything else they’d need was slung over her shoulder. She had known they would come. Even before the Registration Act passed, she knew they would come for her and her son - someday. She refused to let it happen, and had planned ahead for this day. What she hadn’t planned on was Logan being there.

Even from the back garden, she could hear the unique sound of Logan going to work with his claws. She didn’t know how many men there were, but they stood little chance, and for that she was grateful.

“Charles, listen to me,” she crouched in front of her son. “We have to leave. Now.”

His eyes widened. It should’ve been out of fear, and maybe it was, but something else in that intense gaze formed a tiny knot in her stomach. She recognized it, knew it well. She’d seen that same spark dance in his father eyes, and right now, Logan was staring back at her.

“Is it the bad guys, Mommy?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

She kept a firm grip on his small hand as they scrambled for the back gate.

“Marie! Marie, wait!” Logan shouted from the back deck.

She turned to see him swallow up the distance between them in a few long strides. His shirt was splattered with blood and she knew it wasn’t his. Charles’ hand went stiff within hers.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him. He’s okay, she wanted to say but didn’t put it into words; something told her Charles understood more than he ought to.

Logan didn’t say a word as he raced up, but his eyes said it all. He would force his way into going with them if he had to, but he didn’t want it to come to that. In other circumstances, Marie would have grappled with the issue for hours, questioning her feelings, his intentions. As it was, she went with her most basic instinct: to protect her child.

“Come on,” she said to Logan as they fled through the gate.

The three of them moved swiftly through backyards and between houses. Logan relieved her of the bag so she could pick up Charles and move faster.

“We need a car,” he stated.

“I’ve got a Tahoe parked at the convenience store. Two blocks away.” Her clipped answer belied her clever planning: left at a 24-hour store, and moved periodically, her second vehicle was equipped for exactly this occasion. It had tags that were impossible to trace and emergency supplies in the back. Her thoughts instinctively went to the man beside her.

“What about your stuff? Is there anything you need to get from – from wherever it is you’re staying?”

“Nothin’ I can’t live without,” he answered knowingly.

Logan, she knew, had no need to prepare for an escape. His entire life had been lived by the precepts he had taught her: always suspicious, always ready. Neither one of them spoke about the threat, nor the men who had leveled her front door, silently agreeing to wait until Charles couldn’t hear every word.

They crossed through a gas station parking lot, coming to the edge of the commercial area and Logan slowed.

“Hold on, dar…,” he cleared his throat. “I gotta lose this shirt.”

He stripped off the outer layer, knowing he couldn’t waltz through the crowd wearing a bloody shirt and have it go unnoticed. The blood had already soaked through to the shirt underneath. But underneath that fabric, Marie was certain his skin was as flawless as it had ever been. She eyed him, trying to think of a solution.

“Wait right there. I’ll get something,” Marie offered and made haste into the large gas station with Charles still attached to her side.

Logan used the opportunity to take off his undershirt and wipe off any remaining blood. He never once flinched at the soldiers’ blood on his chest, or what had happened to put it there. It had to be done. Face the problem and deal with it. He’d been down that road before, more times than he ever wanted to admit to Marie, or anyone else. He hid both shirts in a nearby dumpster as she and Charles returned.

There was a brief, almost undetectable, moment as Marie took in the sight of his muscled torso, the awareness lingering until Charles shoved his small arm out, holding a black bundle.

“Here’s a shirt so you don’t gotta be nekkid,” the boy said proudly.

“Charles,” Marie shushed, but couldn’t contain a smirk.

Logan gave a lopsided grin and took the shirt, glad to have the tension broken. He noticed the boy had inherited hints of his mother’s southern accent, his words softer and more drawn out than those of the locals.

“Thanks, kid.”

“Charles, this is Logan,” Marie introduced them. He’s…he’s one of the good guys.”

Her son didn’t say anything, just studied Logan with a child’s natural curiosity. Marie knew, however, he had instincts of an emerging feral, and wondered how long it would be before the questions started.

Surprised to hear he was still considered one of the good guys, Logan pulled the shirt over his head. It was a little snug, workable, but emblazoned with large sections of white and red. He looked down at his chest in vague derision.

“NASCAR?” he read.

“Sorry, best I could do. They don’t sell hockey shirts in gas stations ‘round here.”

His raised brow got the anticipated response. She had to smile a little at the surly Canadian wearing a tight, tacky, Dale Earnhart, Jr. t-shirt. Caught on the receiving end, Logan’s lips couldn’t help but quirk in response. Marie’s demeanor changed in a flash.

“We gotta move,” she ordered. She couldn’t allow herself to confuse this small understanding with the bond they had once shared.

******


Marie was behind the wheel as they left the suburbs behind them, heading west on the Interstate. When Charles wasn’t looking, she slid the gun over to Logan, motioning for him to hide it in the glove compartment. She put her hands back on the wheel, glad of the stability that might stop them from shaking. There were things to say, to discuss, but Marie couldn’t think of them. The realization that this day had finally come made it difficult to focus. She was now on the run with Charles – and his father.

Logan seemed to be chewing things over himself, sideways glances giving way to a long, intentional stare. “You were ready to run. Good and ready,” he finally said with a nod towards to gun. “Everything planned out – pretty damn impressive.”

“You’re not the only survivor,” she responded. “Everything I know about running, I learned from you.” She made it clear she was grateful for the lesson – he was the best, after all - but didn’t bother to hide her bitterness, either.

They traveled for miles without speaking again, but once Charles had drifted off in the back, Logan had to know something. He suspected he knew the truth, but he needed to be sure.

“The kid – Charles never once cried or freaked out about you running from the house or havin’ to up and leave his home …did you tell him this might happen?”

She kept her eyes on the road, occasionally flicking them across to check the rearview mirror.

“Charles and I have been lucky. We’ve managed to stay off the radar for a long time, but I was always worried that eventually, somebody somewhere would connect the dots, and the government would find us, find him. I had to plan for that possibility – and I did…pretty obsessively.”

Logan turned in his seat to face her. “Marie – those men could’ve been there for me. Somehow they figured out I was there and came after me. They may not know a thing about Charles.”

If that was the case, he was more danger than protection for them. He should probably get away from them as soon as possible. He should, but he knew he wouldn’t.

“They know,” she insisted, quietly. “I could see it in their eyes. They didn’t want you; they wanted to get through you. My – our son…they know. Somehow they found out about me and they know you’re the father. It wouldn’t be all that hard to piece together if anyone got access to the medical records at the school.”

Marie didn’t realize that she’d started talking faster, her voice choppy. “The government isn’t blind. A boy, a mutant, with your abilities…maybe mine…maybe both! They’d do anything to get their hands on that.”

Logan shook his head in denial. “No, Hank destroyed all the records, the school was trashed. Could be the government doesn’t have a clue about Charles…not yet.”
Even as he said it, he knew he was lying to himself.

“Logan - face the truth! It’s not about you anymore - they want our son.”

She shot him a look and didn’t even bother to try and hide the fear she knew was in her eyes. She suspected it would be raw and naked, because she’d rather die a thousand times over than let anything happen to her son.

Rage slammed Logan back into his seat, and he fought the urge to roar in frustration. It was the truth and he knew it. Those men had come for his son. It was the reality he had refused to consider, even as he’d cut his way through those soldiers to get them to safety. He’d killed on instinct, but they’d been there for the sole purpose of abducting his boy – he knew that right down to his adamantium bones.

Coming after him was one thing, but those bastards wanted a piece of his child. They would take him, torture him, and use him without remorse. Marie had lived every day since the child was born wondering when they might come. How did she stand it? His respect for her grew exponentially. And those fuckin’ government bastard hit men, they’d put a bullet through her head without a second thought. In their eyes, she was of no importance, expendable.

Logan gripped the seat in an impotent rage. He’d rather have the entire Special Forces after him than even one man hunting his wife and child. ‘No!’ his mind yelled in correction. Shock upon shock was making his head spin, confusing him. She was no more his wife than he was the dutiful husband who brought home flowers and wine! Despite his denials, their bitter history, their situation had made him realize something. In his mind, she was his mate, and Charles was their offspring. And if something wanted to take them away, hurt them … the claws slid out unconsciously as a growl grew in his chest.

Immediately alarmed, Marie sat up straighter.

“What? What’s wrong?” she asked anxiously, checking the mirror for tails.

“Pull over,” Logan managed to say.

“Why? What is it?” Her anxiety was growing by leaps and bounds.

“Nothing’s wrong. Nobody’s back there. I need…some air. I – I gotta get out for a second,” he forced out.

She’d known him long enough to understand what he needed. Without him saying another word, she knew the thoughts and images that ran through his mind. Dark ifs, when’s, and maybes that were worse than nightmares because they came while you were awake. She’d lived with them too – for years.

Marie pulled off the Interstate onto a deserted exit that was thickly lined with trees and brush. Every muscle in Logan’s body was strained taut, his face made of stone. She watched as he stepped out of the car and paced the length of it, anger and pent up emotions vibrating beneath the surface. It was like watching a frantic, furious animal snapping at a leash.

He walked to one of the tall pines towering nearby and plunged his claws through it, hacking it in two. It came down and hit the ground with a deafening crack, drowning out the released roar. He sunk both claws into the fleshy core of the tree and left them there, his chest contracting with heaving breaths. He would have nothing else to smash and slice for miles and miles, so this tree would have to take the brunt of it.

Charles, well known for sleeping through almost anything, sat up in the back. His voice was equally full of sleep and puzzlement as he demanded to know what Logan was doing to the tree.

“It’s okay, he just needs to let off some steam,” Marie soothed.

“Like you when you had to throw things off the deck that time?”

Despite what she knew Logan was feeling at this moment, she had to smile, amazed at her son’s keen observations. She’d been hurting that day; single motherhood taking its toll as she was forced to deal with a looming, unknown future, and a haunting past. The tears in her eyes had been blinding as she’d thrown that evening’s burnt casserole – complete with dish and pot holders – off the deck. It had been an easy way to vent and yelling at the open sky had actually helped. She and Logan weren’t that different when it came to holding in and letting out emotion. In some ways they were too much alike.

“Yeah sweetie, kinda like the time on the deck.”

After exhausting enough energy to regain some kind of even keel, Logan climbed back in the SUV.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No problem,” Marie replied, not needing an explanation.

*******

They’d driven for over an hour before Logan asked where they were going.

“Heading west,” was all she said.

He didn’t ask for more detail because it didn’t matter to him anyway.

They spent the miles listening to Charles’ banter, with few chances to interrupt. It took their minds off the issues at hand, and proved easier than actually talking to each other. Marie loved the sound of her son’s voice. Even if she wasn’t paying attention to all the words, she enjoyed his breathless dissertations, no matter the topic. She felt her muscles relax a little and her hands had finally stopped shaking.

Logan soon learned more than he ever thought possible about trains, dinosaurs, and Spiderman. He wondered if it was okay to be obnoxiously proud that his kid was so smart; smarter than him on many topics.

“Charlie is obsessed with all things dinosaur related, and recently added trains and Spiderman to his portfolio,” Marie informed him, using the child’s nickname.

“So tell me big guy, what’s so great about Spiderman?” Logan asked, wanting to understand what it was that kept the kid so happy – so goddamn positive about life.

“Well first of all he’s got the webs and he can swing really fast – like flyin’,” he said, with an expression that suggested anyone who didn’t know that was clearly out of touch. “But he saves people and stuff, too. He’s a good guy…like Mommy said you are. Mr. Logan, do you save people?”

“…Uh, I guess I have before – yeah.”

“Really?! Who’d you save?”

“…I don’t know - just some people I guess, here and there.”

“Logan saved me one time,” Marie interjected.

“Nuh-uh! Wow! Thanks Mr. Logan, you could be just like a real super hero!”

“…It’s just Logan, kid…no mister,” he said, ignoring the compliment.

“Who’s hungry?” Marie asked, changing the subject.

******

After a rushed dinner, they drove on into the evening. Once Charles began to nod off in the back seat again, they made the decision to stop somewhere for the night. Their old habit of run down motels wasn’t going to fly anymore either, so they drove until a Holiday Inn Express appeared alongside the Interstate. The freckle-faced young man at the front desk assumed the trio was a family and checked them into one room, two double beds, and no one argued.

Marie busied herself getting Charles ready for bed and found solace in that little bit of normalcy. She had every necessity either in the black duffle bag or somewhere in the Tahoe. She pulled out Charles’ pajamas, a bath toy, shampoo, soap, even a book for a bedtime story. The two of them walked into the bathroom, pushing the door closed.

Logan had watched the entire unpacking process in wonder. He had the clothes on his back and his wallet, and that was it. Which reminded him, he needed to get to the nearest bank and withdraw a lot of cash, and Marie needed to do the same. Check cards were too easy to track.

With this thought in mind, he quickly went into the bathroom to let her know the plan. He found her sitting beside the tub, helping Charles splash about in an attempt to get clean, both of them laughing at the mess they were making. He felt like an intruder, but ached to be a part of the warmth flowing around Marie and Charles. He needed to be a part of that.

“Oh, um – I thought of something … but it can wait.”

“Don’t be silly,” Marie stopped him. “Come in. What’s on your mind?”

He took a seat on the toilet and told her about taking most of their money out of the banks and using cash only. She towel dried Charles’ hair, helped him into his pajamas, and tucked him into bed as they discussed their plans for the next day. Charles, ever curious, would interject with questions, but Logan was distracted watching Marie’s gentle displays of affection. It came so naturally to her, the caring and nurturing, the hugs and kisses. He felt a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite identify, but it wasn’t all together unpleasant either.

Charles fell asleep on the second to last page of “How do Dinosaurs say goodnight?”, his long day eventually outmatching even the outrageous antics of the baby dinosaurs. Marie pulled his blankets a little higher, feathered a final kiss across his forehead, and slid off the bed.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up – if that’s okay? Will you…if he wakes up, just let him know where I am,” she told Logan, still mesmerized by the sleeping face of their son.

She slipped into the bathroom and turned the shower as hot as she could stand.
Years of being a single parent had created the habit of dealing with issues alone, and in private. Marie stepped into the steam and spray and tried to block out reality and all the questions it brought. Would this now be her new normal; living in hotels, staying on the run? Would she find a safe place – was there such a thing as a safe place for her son?
Was Logan going to stay with them? Did she want him to stay? Her feelings towards him, never simple, were now a tangled, contradictory mass that felt too heavy to bear. But if he hadn’t been there today…would they have even made it this far? She bent her head into the harsh flow of water and swallowed the tears.

Logan had lowered the television and turned off the lights except for one small lamp near the door. He didn’t know if his kid was a light sleeper or not, but he thought it’d be a nice gesture. He didn’t have a clue about taking care of a four year old, so he thought he’d do best to go with his own preference for peace and quiet. He slowly took off his boots and eyeballed the youngster to make sure he was still asleep. Sitting on the other bed, Logan was caught in a quandary. Normally, he slept in the nude, but somehow that seemed wrong with a child in the room, not to mention his former lover, just one bed over. He damn sure wasn’t going to sleep in jeans though…

“…ah this is ridiculous,” Logan whispered to himself and quickly slid off his clothes and climbed under the covers.

If he had to get up for any reason, his jeans would be right beside him and he’d wake up before the kid did anyway. He stretched out on the bed, closed his eyes, and tried to make his mind and body relax. The last 48 hours weren’t helping, but the steady hum of the shower helped a little. He heard the sounds of Marie in there, moving around in the small bathroom. Even though it’d been years, it was a familiar sound and oddly calming. He avoided thinking too much about the details or visualizing Marie actually in the shower. He had a responsibility here, to her and Charles. Day dreaming about her and the things they used to do in showers were not a part of the equation. He put a mental chokehold on those thoughts.

Marie was in the bathroom for an eternity and by the time she opened the bathroom door, Logan realized his entire body was once again tight with anxiety. Her soft footsteps ruffled across the carpet as she put things away and flipped off the lamp. He knew without opening his eyes that she’d walked over to stand right beside him.

“…Logan?” she whispered, but her voice sounded distressed.

His eyes shot open.

“Yeah?”

Marie knelt down beside his bed and spoke quietly so as to not disturb Charles.

“I…I wanna thank you for today. For earlier…you know…at the house.”

He could hear the telltale shaking in her voice and rose up to his elbows, looking into a face that was illuminated on one side by the bathroom light. She met his eyes briefly and then dropped her head.

“You seem to show up when I need help the most and…I thought…”

She took a suspiciously rattling breath and Logan laid there, no intention of interrupting. He couldn’t even move, his body felt weighted down.

“…I knew they were gonna come for us one day. I did. I’d planned ahead for it…but… I guess you’re never really prepared and…I – I don’t know what I would’ve done if…”

Marie’s voice cracked and even though he couldn’t clearly see her face, he knew tears were sliding down her smooth cheeks. She took a fortifying breath.

“I’m glad you were there today. I am.”

She glanced up and the look she saw reflected in his eyes caused the dam to break. Tears silently streamed down her face.

“Logan…they were gonna take…Charles away,” her words were breaking up and she pleaded. “Please, don’t let them take my baby away from me.”

Without another thought, Logan sat up and pulled her into his arms. She muffled her sobs against his chest; the pressure from years of carrying the weight alone needing a release. He didn’t shush her or try any calming words; he just let her get it out. When her breathing finally grew shallow, he spoke.

“I’m not going to let them take Charles away from you,” he said sternly. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you or our son, you hear me? I’m glad I was there today too. I’m glad I’m here now. This is where I’m supposed to – shit,” he sighed. “Marie, look at me.”

He cradled her jaw in his hands, lifting her gaze to his.

“I know that – well, I’ve made promises in the past that…I didn’t always…you know. But I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to make sure you and Charles are safe. I mean it.”

Marie’s chin nodded against his hand.

“I know you will.”

Logan’s face grew tight as he took a deep breath.

“Marie, I want you to know that I realize now what I did to you when I left and-“

“Shhh…,” she interrupted him, shaking her head. “Don’t…let’s, let’s not. I just wanted to say thank you.”

He quietly relished getting to hold her again, hold her face in his hand, and he felt his heart turn over hard when she looked at him with appreciation. Her hands came up to his and warmed them, a second before she pulled away.

She walked over and pulled the bathroom door almost closed, leaving just a shaft of light to creep through. Logan leaned back against his pillow and watched her crawl into bed beside their son.

“Good night Logan,” she said.

His response came automatically, “Good night, baby.”

Logan knew he was being watched. Even with his eyes closed, he knew the feeling that came with being studied, scrutinized closely. He slowly opened his lids to find a small face with a pair of hazel eyes only inches from his.

“Can I help ya with somethin’ kid?”

Charles didn’t jump in surprise, didn’t even flinch.

“Mornin’ mis - I mean, Logan. Are you still sleepin’? I’m hungry. Are you hungry? Can we eat?”
Logan found himself smiling at the boy’s eager response and wondered when he’d last smiled first thing in the morning. His gaze automatically wandered over to where Marie was sleeping.

“You’re up kinda early…but yeah, I can always eat. What about your mom, think she’s hungry?”

Charles eyed him curiously and Logan sat up, not quite comfortable with being the center of so much attention. Charles’ gaze swept over his mother.

“I guess so. She’s still sleepin’ though. She snores sometimes,” he informed Logan.

“Yeah, I remember - like a buzz saw,” he caught the slip as soon as the words came out. He tried to see if it registered in Charles’ eyes, but if it did, he didn’t let on. In the next moment, the child climbed up on the bed to sit beside Logan.

“Where are we goin’ for breakfast?” he insisted.

Logan slid over a little to accommodate the boy and tried his best to act like this was an every day occurrence, father and son sitting in bed just having a morning chat. How was he ever going to go about telling the kid “by the way, I’m your dad”? Did Marie even want him confessing anything at this point? It wasn’t really her place to make that call…but in a way, it was. She couldn’t stop him, but he really wanted them to agree on handling that kind of stuff.

He didn’t have a clue about how to even start that conversation. Without her help in guiding him through what was sure to be a lengthy and emotional discussion, he had to admit he’d be lost. Logan rubbed his face with both hands, feeling the beginnings of a headache – and he never got headaches. He noticed Charles, still looking at him expectantly, and remembered they’d really only been discussing breakfast.

“We can get something downstairs,” he answered.

Logan told himself to pull his shit together. They’d get to any major emotional crossroads when they got there. Worrying about the questions, having the right answers, and the fall out that may come with it wasn’t going to do him any good; and besides, it wasn’t like him to be anxious. He shook it off and looked back down at Charles.

“Is that alright with you kid – hotel continental special?”

Charles nodded at him happily.

“Yeah. I can wear Spiderman pajamas down there? Momma always picks out what I’m gonna wear and I don’t ever get to pick.”

Logan, once again, had stumbled into uncharted territory. “Uh, yeah sure. Whatever is fine…I guess. Just, uh, don’t tell your Mother.”

“I can hear y’all talking about me,” Marie murmured in a sleepy voice. “Yes, we’ll all go to breakfast; no, you can’t wear your pajamas…and I do not snore like a buzz saw.” She cut her eyes over her shoulder at the two of them, striving for the evil eye, but ending up somewhere closer to squinty.

She stretched with a yawn, and threw her legs over the side of the bed.

“Come on young man, the quicker you dress, the quicker you get breakfast.”

Charles begrudgingly climbed from the bed and took the clothes his mother handed him. He was doing a fine job of dressing himself when Logan climbed out of bed and took a long stretch, realizing too late that he remained completely naked. Both mother and son flashed him a startled look.

“Fuck!” Logan grimaced at his choice of words and jerked on the blanket edge to partially cover himself. “Shit…sorry,” he added awkwardly.

Marie bit her lip to keep from laughing, but a smile still reached her eyes.

“It’s okay…really…and um, Charlie’s heard worse language from me. Unfortunately.”

“Whoa! Momma – did you see…”

“Let’s go Charlie,” she interrupted firmly, guiding him into the bathroom. “We’ll give Logan some privacy.”

Logan tossed the blanket aside and roughly pulled on his jeans, shaking his head. “Nice move slick! Flash the kid - then cuss like a sailor. Great influence.”

He knocked on the bathroom door to let them know he was decent and that he wanted to catch a shower before breakfast.

While Logan cleaned up, Marie finished getting herself and Charles ready. While she pulled on her shoes, her mind wandered. She’d overheard every bit of Charles and Logan’s early morning conversation, and felt each awkward silence. This was new ground for Logan and he wasn’t sure how to act or what to say. She should probably tell him just to be himself and say what he felt, but that could be dangerous. She’d never lied to her son about anything, just sort of kept the truth hidden…or vague. Charles needed to know the whole truth about his parents now, but hell if she knew how to start that conversation. Maybe together, she and Logan could fumble through it.

Logan…

Marie shook her head. There was so much water under that bridge; there were times she thought she’d drown in it. He had to be angry about her keeping their son from him; just like she’d been angry about being abandoned, but somehow, they were getting along. Maybe they’d formed some kind of truce since they had a common goal. She was truly glad that he was here, even if she didn’t want to give the reasons why too much thought.

Seeing him this morning had conjured images that she wasn’t ready for. At one time, she’d loved him with all her heart and that had involved more than her share of lust. He’d always returned the lust and then some, but the love…that he’d never really given. Sure, he’d cared about her, taken care of her, and had been a passionate lover, but it didn’t come close to what she felt. Looking at him now, it would be easy to allow the physical craving to return, but it wasn’t wise. For her, with him, it had always been a two fold attraction. She couldn’t indulge in lust without love, so she couldn’t give in to either. Still, the visual gift of a nude Logan first thing in the morning was not something to go unappreciated.

“Momma, why are you smiling?” Charles forced her to douse her salacious thoughts quickly.

“No reason, honey. You ready?”

******

After Logan came out of the shower, clean and dressed, the three of them went down for breakfast and checked out of the hotel. They made their planned stops at the bank branches and withdrew as much as they could out of the ATM, avoiding the inside and any cameras. They made another stop in town for a few extra supplies, some clothes, and cigars for Logan, which he was told in no uncertain terms he could not smoke in the car.

Instead, he settled for a quick puff before getting back on the road. He took the wheel for the first leg of the drive, and asked about a destination – more specifically.

“There’s a safe house, it’s in Colorado…the connections that the Professor had…they helped me have something set up, you know, for when this day came. We should be able to get there in a couple of days.”

Logan’s brow creased in contemplation.

“You know…it’s likely that this location was leaked. If your home address was leaked, what makes you think this safe house is – safe? You’d be better off with a plan B.”

“Well, we’ll just have to check it out first and see,” Marie answered, rolling her eyes and hating to be second guessed.

“I’m just trying to be helpful here,” Logan said, feeling her tension.

“What choice do we have? Huh? I mean, where else are we gonna go?” She’d raised her voice without realizing.

“Why are you getting so defensive?” Logan’s voice bumped up a notch too.

“Why are y’all fighting?” a quiet voice said from the back seat.

“We’re not fighting, Charlie. It’s okay,” she reassured him, then cut her eyes at Logan.

“I don’t have a plan B,” she added curtly, knowing where the conversation was headed.

“Well I do. I have a place we can go.” He added in a hushed voice, “You know that. You’re the only person that knows that.”

Marie hugged her elbows and looked out the window at the passing landscape.

“I don’t want to go back there,” she eventually said.

Logan felt a prick against his heart. He knew the memories she recalled and didn’t want those memories to hurt her. They were happier times, simple days filled with being outdoors, trying to cook over an open fire, and even attempting to teach Marie how to fish. Relaxed nights warmed by a fire, heated by each others’ touch. It had just been a quiet getaway, but over the years it had turned into so much more for him. It became the place he went to in his mind when things got too dark to stand. Now, the prospect of returning there kindled something resembling hope.

“We can survive there. That’s the important thing,” he offered imploringly. “I could take care of you and Charles and…hell; I might even be able to make some kind of living there. I could support us at least for as long as we need to stay. That way we don’t have to live off our savings, and…”

“What are you talking about?” she stopped him, her words coming out cold, but with a note that suggested she wasn’t entirely convinced of what she was saying. “Support us? Take care of us?” She shook her head in disbelief. “We’re not trying to be a burden, Logan. And it’s not like we’re a family that’s just moving to a new town.” She glanced back at her son and lowered her voice. “You’re not responsible for supporting me and Charles. There is no ‘us’. I’m grateful that you are here, really I am, but that’s about safety. Nothing else.”

“I don’t expect you to…to…,” the right words failed her.

Logan gripped the wheel, trying to maintain his calm. Of course she didn’t expect him to feel responsible. What had he ever done to show he’d accept the responsibility of family? Or that he might even want it? He’d never wanted it. Family and love and everything that came with it didn’t fit his life. He could protect someone, defend someone, and he could try to please someone and even be a selfless lover … but take on the commitment and the soul-baring burden of a family? It wasn’t for him. At least it never had been. That hadn’t changed – had it? But something had changed in the last couple of days. Maybe he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but he’d started thinking in terms of ‘we’ and not ‘me’.

“I think we’ll be safer heading to my place,” he argued, realizing reasonable safety measures would be the most persuasive. “If information from the school has been leaked, then it’s likely that Chuck’s associates and their hide outs have too. They could be waiting for you at every safe house from here to San Francisco.”

“You’re not making me feel better,” she snapped at him.

“There’s no record of my place…anywhere. Except here,” he tapped his head, “and here.” He put a finger to her temple.

Marie was quiet as she thought through his argument. It was highly likely that if they went on to Colorado, more soldiers in black could be waiting for them. She didn’t like the idea of going back to that cabin with Logan, but she liked the idea of being ambushed even less. Logan’s place had been filled with genuine feelings of joy and contentment, but with it came heartbreak. She’d been a silly girl in love when she was there. Naively, she’d thought that with time and perseverance, one day Logan would see what they had. During their time alone together, she’d thought it was the most obvious. The cabin represented how she had hoped in vain. Safety, however, would be a sure thing there. She’d have to set aside her own feelings for what was best for Charles.

“We’ll go to the cabin,” she decided and tried to blink away any water swelling in her eyes.

“Why are you crying Momma?” a voice spoke up again from the back.

Logan’s head whipped around as Marie shook her head adamantly.

"I’m not crying sweetie.”

“Yes you are. You smell like it,” Charles insisted.

The car fell quiet as she gave Logan a knowing glance, then focused on the road in front of them. "It's okay, Charlie. I'm fine...promise."

Logan found himself staring at her as she looked dead ahead. He wanted to get a read on her, a sign, something. He knew if he looked at her long enough, something would give; there’d be a crack in her armor somewhere and he would know what she was thinking.

“You’re going to run us off the road if you don’t pay attention Logan.”

He jerked the SUV back into the lane, cursing his choice to drive.

*****
The next several hours of the journey were spent in relative silence. Logan adjusted their route to head northwest and Marie sat in tense silence until she finally nodded off.

When the pangs of lunchtime hunger could no longer be ignored, they stopped in one of the blur of towns just off the interstate, somewhere in western Missouri. They were pulling into a fast food drive-in when Charles spotted a small park across the street.

“A playground! I wanna swing!” he shouted, bouncing in his seat.

He’d been the picture of a perfect traveling child during the journey, so after grabbing their meals to go, they parked next to the playground and let Charles burn off some energy. He bolted from the swings as soon as a group of children descended on the see-saws.

Marie moved from their picnic table to the swings to keep a better eye on him as he bobbed up and down, opposite a little blonde headed girl.

“They’re so eager to play with him…to think one day they might fear and hate him,” she pondered out loud.

Logan moved to take the swing beside her, “Maybe - maybe not. Some of them could be mutants too.”

Marie nodded and pushed back with her feet, slowly swinging back and forth. He watched her move in and out of his peripheral vision. There…gone…there…gone. Gone. It had weighed on his mind since they’re conversation in the car. While Marie was too preoccupied to stop him before he got started, Logan turned in his swing.

“I’ve done a lot of shit in my life that I’m not particularly proud of, but my biggest regret is probably how I handled things with me and you. I just wanted you to know that.”

Marie’s feet missed the ground for push off and her swinging slowed. She didn’t interrupt, but she didn’t look at him either.

“I know you're not asking me to take care of you and Charles, not in that kinda way at least…but…I’m saying I wouldn’t mind it. I’m offering … I mean - I want to help if you’ll let me. And I want him to know about me, who I am, who he is … he should know.”

Marie stilled and remained silent.

“I’m not the same man I was five years ago,” Logan said with conviction.

“And I’m not that same girl either,” she replied, still watching her son.

“He needs to know who his father is. I’ve already missed out on a lot, shit I can’t get back. I never thought I would, but I – I want to be around for stuff … at least some of the stuff. I don’t want to miss out on everything. I have to protect him, he’s my kid; you know I’ve got to protect him.”

Marie nodded, “Yeah, I know…and you’ll protect him better than anyone. I know that. I’ve thought about it too…I want him to know who you are. He’s so sharp, though, I wonder if he doesn’t already have an idea. You’re his father, Logan, and you deserve to be a part of his life…”

He cut her off with a derisive laugh. “I don’t deserve jack shit, Marie and you know it. But I’m a selfish bastard and I want it anyway.”

Marie finally looked at him and exhaled on a small laugh.

“Well you should be a part of it. I didn’t try to…I never wanted you not to be a part of his life.”

Logan scuffed a boot through the dirt that was ditched out underneath his swing. Leaning forward, he impulsively grabbed the chains of Marie’s swing, turning her towards him.

“I don’t want to be a part of just *his* life,” he said, making a point of looking directly into her eyes.

Marie, her eyes starting to dart about like a nervous deer, used her feet as leverage against the ground to push away. “I…I don’t know, Logan.”

His grip on the links was strong and held her in place. “Hey-hang on. Don’t go freakin’ out on me, okay? I’m not pressuring you for – it’s not like that. I just want to be a part of my kid’s life and in the meantime, I’d like for you not to shut me out completely.”

“I haven’t shut you out,” her tone turned defensive. “Just last night I confided in you and let you…”

“I know, I know…but I wanna say it. Officially.”

Logan stole a quick look towards their son and then back to Marie’s upturned face.

“I’m not askin’ for something that I got no business askin’ for. I just want…a chance. I want a place in my kid’s life and maybe just a small place in yours.”

Marie watched him as he studied her face for a reaction. There would always be a place for Logan in her life. Even absent for almost five years, and that space still belonged to him. But she also knew from experience that Logan never took up ‘just a small place’. Whether absorbed into her consciousness, or as a very physical entity in her life, he always took up more than his fair share of room.

It was overwhelming, the way he could fill up her being. It happened so easily and there were times when she’d completely succumbed to it; just let him overtake her so all that was left was a wisp of herself enveloped by something so dominant and instinctual. It was wonderful, but then it was crushing to have it ripped away. She couldn’t deny that she wanted him to have a place in her life too, probably always would, but could she reign him in, contain him to just a small place?

She wasn’t that same naïve girl anymore. Marie noticed he was still watching her, warily. He couldn’t read her as easily as he once could, that much had definitely changed. Time and trial had built walls around her so that every thought and each emotion wasn’t so clearly etched across her face. She wasn’t the only one on unsure ground anymore, and somehow, that was reassuring. She watched him for a moment more and the answer came without really consulting her for a final decision.

“I’ll try to make a place for you.”

Logan nodded slightly, “That’s all I’m askin’ for.”

He released her swing and she shoved lightly off the ground again, wishing she could force her heartbeat to slow down.

“I do have a question though,” she said, glancing back at him. She smiled at his look of uncertainty. “Did we just have that discussion – on a swing set?”

Logan’s uncertainty turned to a full on smirk. “Well it was on my mind. I just gotta go with this talkin’ stuff when the mood hits me.”

Marie pushed herself a little higher in the swing as Logan dug out a cigar. They were temporarily content with the agreement and watched their son enjoy a new group of kids. For a while it actually felt natural, like it had always been the three of them together, a normal family in the park. Caught up in the moment, neither one of them noticed the unmarked van pulling into the parking lot. They couldn't see the undercover soldiers crawl from the van and make their way towards them. By the time Logan caught their scent, they were already entering the park.

Marie knew how to read Logan's body language. The skill was born from years of friendship, refined as they worked together on the team, and perfected in her time as his lover; so when every one of his muscles grew tight and his body went deathly still, her panic rose.

"What is it?" she managed, already out of the swing.

Logan spoke quietly, urgently, but hadn’t yet made a move.

"Get Charles, head towards the car, but be natural about it. Go. Now."

She desperately wanted to look around, run, yell out for her child, but she trusted Logan’s instincts and tried to move at a slow, deliberate pace. Marie reached the edge of the see-saws and tried to keep the fear from her voice.

"C'mon Charlie, it's time to go."

"But I don't wanna go, Mom," he whined, casting a longing look at his new playmates.

"Charlie," she said firmly, her eyes intense, "we gotta go. Now!"

Charles looked at her, and then saw the men in the distance, behind her. They were dressed like anyone else in the park, but they walked too fast and they weren't smiling. To Charles they looked like the bad guys on one of his mother's favorite police shows. He launched himself into her arms, remembering what she'd said about the bad guys.

"It's them Mommy! It's them!"

Marie couldn't contain the fear anymore. With her child in her arms, she turned to run for their car.
Seeing her flee, the five soldiers gave chase.

"Stop! Mutant!" she heard them yell. She heard, too, a chorus of gasps from the other parents, the same onlookers who had smiled indulgently as Charlie capered with their little darlings.

Her shoes threw up clods of grass and soft earth as she sprinted across the park, desperate for escape.

Logan intercepted two of the soldiers, dressed as civilians.

"I don't think so – bub! Not today," he yelled, collaring one man, connecting a fist to his jaw, and then knocking him out with a head butt.

Aware that using the claws in such a public place would only make this unforgettable scene even more memorable to the bystanders, he counted on his adamantium-reinforced fists to do all the damage. He reached for the other man, pulled him in close, and broke his jaw with one precise jab.

Logan saw Marie reach the parking lot with the other three soldiers fast on her heels. Fear crawled up his back, cold and debilitating, as he watched his family being chased by those bastards. He forced his legs to move towards them and he saw her shove Charles into the SUV before climbing in herself. She threw the machine into reverse, almost mowing down one of the soldiers in the process.

The soldiers jumped into their van, just as she swung the SUV around, barely stopping for Logan to jump in.

"Go! Go! Go!" he was yelling, even before both legs were in the vehicle.

Marie spun out of the parking lot on two wheels and tore towards the interstate.

"Make sure he's buckled in," she shouted to Logan.

He turned to secure Charles and look behind them, before checking on her. She shot him a frantic look while exiting for the interstate.

"They're following Marie," he told her.

"I see them," she replied, gunning the engine.

They sped down the sparsely occupied highway, wondering how they were ever going to lose the tail. Then, the unthinkable happened. Coming up behind, the van rammed into them, jerking and pushing their car forward.

Marie inhaled sharply and tried to regain control of the wheel.

"Mommy!" Charles' cry was filled with confusion and fear.

Logan immediately turned to him, "It's okay, buddy. Just hold on - we're gonna get away from them."

Accelerating as fast as she could, Marie tried to put room between them and the dark van.

"What the hell are they doing?"

"They're trying to force us off the road. You're doing fine, just outrun 'em."

The van pulled along side, almost passing them. She let up on the pedal to slow down and let them by, but instead the van careened into their side; broad siding them with its full length and forcing the Tahoe to skid off the shoulder. Marie tried to correct, pulling the wheel hard to stay on the road. She was met by the van, hitting the back quarter panel, sending them into a spin. Instinctively she hit the brakes, but the car was no longer under her command. Marie felt the sickening tilt of gravity as the top heavy automobile turned, hit a steep decline and started to roll, before righting itself only to plummet downhill.

Three soldiers jumped from the van to watch the SUV twist out of control, careen downhill and slam, front end, into a tree. The sound of crunching metal made the squad leader cringe.

"For fuck's sake Jenkins! What the fuck was that? You're supposed to disable the vehicle so we can grab the kid and go. Not cause a fuckin' fatality!"

"Let's go," he ordered.

They picked their way slowly down the steep hill towards the wreckage, forced to concentrate on the terrain. Jenkins lost his footing, and the squad stopped while he was helped up. They were still bent over him when the explosion from the wreck threw a wave of heat across their backs. Buckling forward to cover their heads, they turned to see the car being swallowed in flames.

"Dammit. Dammit! We got no capture now, asshole. Now the fuckin' capture is a crispy critter.” The squad leader moved towards the wreckage, but could see nothing: the inside of the SUV was engulfed by fire.

“We gotta get outta here. Fuck!" he roared. "Move!"

They crawled back up the incline and piled into the van, leaving before anyone could witness the carnage they’d left behind.

******
Logan had learned a lot from his mistakes over the years, but remembering to wear a his seat belt wasn’t one of them. He had been thrown through the front windshield on impact. Groggily, his eyes opened from the blackness. He felt his shoulder resetting, his clavicle knitting itself back together, an open wound on his forehead sealing shut.

The healing burned like hell fire, but it was the sight in front of him that sickened him as his searching gaze found the crumpled SUV. Marie and Charlie were still inside, and he knew he had to get them out before the car ignited.

Nowhere near steady on his feet, he crawled back towards the car, ripping open the driver side door. The airbag had activated, giving Marie a nasty lick to the face. She was black and blue and probably had some internal bruising, but she was moaning in distress. It was music to his ears - pain meant she was alive. He released the claws and slashed through her safety belt, dragging her from the car. Logan flung the back door open and cut that seat belt out all together, pulling Charles into the safety of his chest. Marie was sitting up behind him.

"Give him to me," she sobbed.

Logan handed their son over and grabbed their single bag of possessions from the floor.

"Can you move? Get away from the car. That way,” he gestured. “They won’t see us."

Marie couldn’t think to ask how; she was cradling her son into her side and sliding away from the car, further
into the tree line.

"Keep moving! Further!"

She slid behind into a copse of trees and brush, sheltered from view, and shifted Charles in her arms.

"Logan? Oh God. Logan! He's not breathing!"

Her panicked scream coincided with the flash and roar of the car bursting into flames behind them. Logan threw himself over them both, but Marie barely noticed the debris flying about. Charles was lying limply on the ground, and she was near frantic as she pulled his shirt open to check for injuries.

"Why isn't he breathing? Logan?! What's wrong with him?" Her voice was shrill.

Charles had bruising over his chest, but no other signs of external damage.

Logan crouched down on the boy’s other side, feeling a helplessness he'd never felt before in the years left to his memory. The boy obviously had some kind of internal damage. He touched his son's small neck, checking for a pulse, watching his chest for the rise and fall.

Marie began to administer CPR with tears in her eyes. "Oh God, baby no! No! Don't do this! What's wrong? What
happened?"
Logan’s attention was focused on Marie’s desperate efforts to revive Charles, but his well-trained instincts noted the soldiers leaving, thinking them all still trapped in the car. Rather than being consumed with the need for an easy kill, he was grateful to see them go; the protection of his family taking priority above vengeance.

"Let me see him," he said hoarsely, continuing the CPR himself and using his hyper senses to look for clues, a sign of hope, for anything.

"Logan...please... he can't die!"

"I'm not going to let him die!"

They watched their son lie still. There was no movement, no reaction, no improvement. Marie buried her hands in her hair, before smacking the ground with all her strength.

"No dammit! I'm not losing him too!" She shoved Logan away with all her might and leaned over her son. "Charles - you can't leave me!"

She put her mouth to his and tried to give him life, breathing through her tears and pushing on his sternum with shaky hands. Through watery eyes she thought she saw his color change, brighten. Was it a play of light? A trick of her mind? She watched in stunned silence as the bruising around his little ribs began to disappear right in front of her eyes.

"Oh my God...Logan!"

Logan shook his head, not wanting to look at his son's motionless body. "No! Don't say..."

"No, look! He's..."

Charles made a high-pitched wheeze, before succumbing to a fit of coughing and panting. Marie rolled him to his side, a strong, but comforting hand on his back.

After a little while, he caught his breath.

"It burns Momma. It burns," he sputtered.

She looked at Logan, confused, tear streaks drying on her face.

"That's the healing," he said, his voice rough.

She pulled her son into her lap, against her chest, rocking him. "It's okay baby. It'll be okay now," fresh tears streaming down her face.

Logan slid up in front of her, pulling them both into the circle of his arms. So many emotions, so many unspoken words, twisted up inside him, racking his body; but he couldn't say a word. The fear of what could have happened, what he could have lost, shook him. The awe at what would come out of his mouth at that moment kept him silent.

******

Logan stared out at the long, gray road ahead of him. Miles and miles of endless highway were a part of his existence; as familiar to him as ‘home’ was to other people. Never before had he been happy to be on the road though. Now, to be on the road meant they were surviving; they had survived. His child was alive, Marie was alive, and maybe for now, they were safe.

Concentrating on the road kept his mind from obsessing over what just happened. He thought about all the times he had taken this path alone, when he’d ran because he thought he needed that solitude. It had never brought him any peace or happiness, only emptiness. But this time … for the first time he wasn’t running away. He was running towards something.

They'd been driving for hours. Marie feigned sleep against Logan’s shoulder, but their son was truly asleep in the jump seat. The truck wasn't ideal for them, but when you'd resorted to stealing a car, you couldn't be too choosy. She was exhausted; and so thankful that if she thought about it too much, the tears would come again.
Charles had manifested his mutation right in front of their eyes. He was just like his father ... thank God! Dismay that it had come to him so young in life was overruled by the joy that it had saved him. She blessed that long-ago teaching, the role of heightened emotional stress in triggering a previously dormant mutation. She would be forever grateful that he'd inherited his father's healing in time to survive this encounter.

Even after coming so close to death, Charles had riddled them with questions. Why had someone tried to hurt them? What had happened to him and why did the hurting go away ... and wasn't it wrong to take someone else's car? She'd managed to appease him by telling him that he needed to rest and she'd explain everything later. Only his exhaustion, from the ordeal and the effects of exercising his new mutation, had made him agree to try and sleep.

Both father and son looked to be in great shape, their shared mutation having wiped out any evidence of the earlier trauma. Marie, on the other hand, had a lovely, dark reminder underneath her eye, and her body was bruised, stiff, and sore. She had never been happier to feel the hitches of pain in her life, reminding her of how close they'd come to losing everything. But then, they were given a second chance. Suddenly, she realized she was thinking in terms of 'them' - she and Logan and Charles; a complete unit, a family. Her son needed to understand what they were and who they were to each other. He needed know his family.

She raised her head to look up at Logan. "I- I think we're far enough away now. It should be safe. We need to stop somewhere...and talk."

To remain as anonymous as possible, Logan and Marie regressed back to their days of roadside motels. While Logan searched for something that would pass for dinner, or at least a snack, Marie carried Charles inside to clean him up a bit. She cleaned herself up too and found ice for her eye. Stretching her aching muscles out on the bed, she tried to hide her nerves from her over perceptive son.

"Mommy?" he asked quietly, feet dangling from the side of the bed, "those bad guys wanted to hurt us...and I know they did it because they are bad ... but … how come just you got hurt?"

Marie sat up and pulled the ice-filled towel away from her face. "Well, honey…Mommy is just a little more...Mommy isn't as tough and strong as you and d-mm...and Logan."

"That's not really true, kid," a deep voice interrupted from the doorway. "Your Mom's the toughest person I know."

Logan walked in with a handful of food from the vending machine. Tossing the bounty onto a small table, he grabbed one of the ancient chairs and pulled it up to the edge of the bed.

"Yeah Mom, you're tough too .... and I 'member it hurting when the car stopped ... it hurt bad, but it don't hurt no more."

Silently, Logan sent a look to Marie. The kid was too smart for any ploys to work. Besides, they'd already discussed that he needed to know about his father. And now he needed to know about his unusual heritage as well. Logan made a quiet wish that he and Marie were on the same page about complete disclosure. If his kid was anything like him, he would smell a bullshit story a mile away, no matter his age; and Logan was going to need her guidance to get through any kind of 'talk'.

Marie could read the thoughts as they crossed Logan's face, almost as if it were a teleprompter. She wasn't sure when she’d begun to understand him so easily, but she was thankful nonetheless.

"Honey," she said softly, moving to kneel in front of her child. "I need to tell you something very important and I want you to listen very carefully. Listen to everything first and then you can ask all the questions you want...okay?"

Charles nodded his head eagerly.

She reached up to hold both his hands in hers. "First of all...the reason that you aren't hurt after that accident is because you are a very special boy. You have a...gift. Your little body can heal from getting hurt, but a whole lot faster than any of your friends or even Mommy. You were born that way, but ... you just had to grow up a bit for it to come out. Do you understand?"

He nodded again, enthralled.

"Good. See...this is a very good thing because it will help you when you get hurt. It's like...a super hero power. But there are people that will...they wish they were special like you too. Because it's very cool to be able to get better so quickly ... and those bad guys ... they can't do that. They figured out that you could, though and because they are jealous and they don't understand ... they don't want to be your friend. It makes them mad and they are jealous and that makes them do bad things. Do you remember what we learned about 'jealous'? Do you understand what Mommy is saying?

Charles sat very still for a moment, looking at his shoes, at his mother, at her friend Logan. "So they tried to hurt us because of me?" he said, his little voice cracking with tears.

Marie's eyes flew open wide. "No! No, no honey...not at all, “she said urgently.

"Nothing is your fault big guy," Logan jumped in. "You didn’t do anything wrong. They didn't try to hurt us because of you. They're bad guys and bad guys just do...bad things. It's got nothing to do with you. You're not the only one they're jealous of ... they're jealous of me too, and they've chased me before."

"Why don't they like you?" Charles asked, innocently.

Logan looked down at his hands, realizing he had a death grip on his own thighs. He knew this was it; his opportunity to tell Charles the truth. He had to be open and honest about what he was, what Charles was, and most of all what they all were to each other ... and that he wanted nothing more than for it to stay that way. To be able to call him his son, to tell his son he loved him; he wanted to be a real father, he wanted to be with Marie, and wanted the three of them to be a family.

Logan cleared his throat briefly. "'Cause I can heal too, kid. I get better real quick, like you, and they don't like it too much. See..." He shot a look down to Marie's face, only to see her give him an encouraging smile. "See...me and you kid...we're both special. We got a lot in common, two of a kind, ya know? A lot alike."

"Yeah?" Charles asked, wriggling his feet underneath him to sit cross-legged.

"Yeah. Actually... " he felt a catch in his throat, "we're exactly alike in - a lot of ways."

"That's okay, Logan, because I like you. I like being like you."

Logan stole another glance at Marie to see her eyes suspiciously moist, her jaw firmly set.

"I like being like you too, kid. And there's a reason, see, that we're so much alike."

Charles cocked his head, the gesture asking him to explain.

"Charlie ..." Logan found himself clearing his throat again. "Charlie, I'm your Daddy."

Charles’ eyes didn't open wide in shock; he didn't make any sudden movement at all. He simply studied Logan further, and then looked to his mother for confirmation.

Marie nodded firmly, but with a smile. "It's the truth Charlie. Logan is your Dad and he wants to help me take very good care of you...if that's okay."

Charles looked back at Logan. "My Daddy?"

Logan nodded stiffly; never thinking he'd want a four year old's approval this badly.

"Momma said you left because ... for work and to keep us safe." Charles took a long pause, looking back and forth between his mother and father. "Are you done working now - so you can stay and won’t have to leave us again?"

Logan heard Marie's strangled sigh and saw her smile and took it as a good sign. "Yeah ... yeah I'm done with work now … and I'd like to stay, if that's okay with you."

Charles smiled up at his father, nodding emphatically. "It's okay with me; I like havin' you around. You can be my Daddy," he answered in a voice much bigger than his size. He rose to his knees and leaned towards Logan with open arms.

Without hesitation, Logan reached out and scooped up his son with both arms, holding him tight. Marie moved closer to the two of them. She gently stroked Charlie's back and Logan's arm. Silently, she noted how natural they looked together. Her heart caught as Charlie received an open, trusting look of warmth and love that even she had never seen in Logan’s eyes before.

******

He'd been in bed for hours, but sleep was evading him. The three of them had sat around, talking and snacking on junk food, forever it seemed. He'd even helped get Charlie ready for bed and actually felt the cocoon of warmth that existed between Marie and their child reach out and envelop him.

Charlie had asked lots of questions about his 'gift' and how it worked, where Logan had been working, and where they were going to live. He and Marie had tried to keep the explanations simple and honest, even if it meant leaving out a few details for now. The most uncomfortable moment came when Charlie asked if the two of them were going to get married now and have more babies. He had to say, though, his Marie had smoothed that one right over.

"Logan and I haven't seen each other in a long time, honey," she'd said. "I care about your father and we're going to be very good friends ... and most importantly, we are always going to be there for you."

His Marie...

He'd never wanted anyone's approval the way he'd wanted Charlie's ... except for Charlie's mother. He wanted her approval and dammit, he wanted her forgiveness – now he needed it. He'd give anything to go back in time, wipe the slate clean - or better yet, start over new.

Let today be the first day of their life and all the bullshit in his past, be damned. For years he'd lived under the notion that acceptance, unconditional love, and all the things that came with it were things that he had no rights to. He didn't deserve it and if it was forced upon him, he'd inevitably find a way to ruin it. Logan clenched his fists in anger; angry at no one but himself. He'd been a fool. He'd seen so much of the shitty things in life, he couldn't recognize when good things were there for the taking. Marie had offered all of those things to him and he'd turned his back on it, on her, stubbornly refusing to believe that he could hold onto that kind of life.

The woman ought to be fuckin' sainted, he thought; because for some reason, she was letting him back in. She never said that they could pick up where they left off, but she’d agreed to give him a little place in her life … and a little place was all he needed. He’d turn it into a second chance at what he'd so callously shunned. He was going to do whatever it took to sprawl out and take up as much room as possible. He was going to get his claws in so deep that she would never, ever think to want a future without him in it. He'd find a way to make her so deliriously happy and content, that she couldn't even be bothered to think about the past.

The government hopefully thought them all dead, and that was fine with Logan. They'd get to his cabin - their cabin - and be safe. And he'd create such wonderful memories and happy times there, that all she'd ever think about in relation to that place would be pure bliss. And eventually...eventually he'd find away to win her back into his arms. That much he'd never been a fool about; physically, he and Marie belonged to each other. Whatever it took, if he had to woo and do all the romantic crap that didn't come at all naturally to him, he'd find a way to get that back. He didn't want to spend another night in a bed separate from her, but he would. He'd be patient...but he would be hell-bent persistent, too.

Logan felt his hands relax, and a small smile crossed his lips as he thought about plans for the future. His reverie was interrupted by the creaking of the other bed.

He heard the bedclothes rustle as Marie got up, and the quiet pad of her feet as she moved across the room to flip on the tiny light by the door. She went into the bathroom, but didn’t turn on the light. Nor did she lock the door behind her, only pushed it mostly closed. All of his senses were instantaneously on high alert. He listened closely, until he heard a gentle, muffled sob coming from behind the cracked door.

He was on his feet and in the bathroom in a second, giving no thought to her privacy. Marie was standing on the bathmat with her back to him.

"Logan?" she whispered, turning towards him.

“Are you okay, baby? What's wrong?" He could make out her face, softly lit by the glowing nightlight.

That was the second time he'd called her 'baby', but still she didn't want to remark upon it. Marie looked up into the face she knew almost as well as her own. She'd seen that face almost every night for five years when she closed her eyes. During the day, the memory of his face was something she wouldn't allow to intrude, but at night, she'd give in to it. Even when her bitterness and anger was at its peak, she still saw that face … and felt comfort. She'd hated him for that, in the beginning.

Now, she looked at him and realized that what she'd told him the day he came back was true. She didn't hate him, she wasn't angry at him anymore, and the bitterness was slowly dissolving to vapor. Marie trusted him with her life and her son's life, without question, and she thought that'd be enough. But it wasn't. She wanted more. She wanted all of it.

"Nothing's wrong, Logan...just...emotional. You know...exhausted."

Logan put out both arms, running his hands down her shoulders in comfort, and looked into her eyes.

"Well...it's been...it's been a tough day. But you were amazing today, Marie - with everything. You’re…you’re unbelievable."

Her body went rigid, not so much at his words, but at the look in his eyes. It was the same look he'd given Charles earlier, wide open with warmth, absolute trust...and love. She recognized that look, even though it had never been completely and freely given to her. Until now. Marie had wanted that look for so long – all she could do was stare at him, slightly stunned. Finally it was there and she wanted so badly to be able to return it.

"Logan?" she didn't know what she was asking, maybe if he was real.

Logan felt her go stiff beneath his hands and knew he'd given himself away. Panic almost boiled up, but now he understood what was playing across her face. Doubt was creased into her scrunched up forehead and the curve of her mouth, but gleaming in her eyes was hope. She had hope too! Hope for them...and she didn't have to say a word.

He stepped towards her, pulling her into his arms with the very lightest of pressure. Curling his arms around hers, he held the small of her back, tucking her into him. Logan rested his cheek against her, his breath making wisps of her hair rise up and float back down, and wondered if it was the thudding of his heart that was making them tremble. He held her tight, in case she thought to slip away.

"Baby," he whispered into her hair, "I am so sorry for ever leavin' you."

He felt her pull slightly against him, but his arms turned into an adamantium cage around her. He needed to say this, had to say it, and she needed to hear it.

"Shhh, just listen to me for a second. You need to hear this, even if you think you don't want to ... I was a coward back then, Marie. Nothing scared me, I thought, but you scared the shit out of me. Little you terrified the big, bad Wolverine ... because of what could happen ... what you could do, because of what you could offer me. I never wanted to leave *you*. I wasn't running away from *you*. I was just running. But that was no excuse. I've got no excuse for what I did, but I always regretted it, every day, no matter how I lied to myself. And I never regretted it more than I do now. I never should've let you go..."

Marie had finally relaxed in his arms. After a moment, she raised her head to look at him, nodding just slightly. She was so beautiful, his girl, the mother of his child.

"I'm not scared of you anymore, Marie. And I'm gonna prove it to you."

The self assurance and cockiness in his voice earned him a small laugh.

"I know you will, Logan," she smiled up at him. "I know you will."

“I told myself I didn’t deserve your forgiveness; that I couldn’t ask for it and didn’t want it. But that’s not true … not anymore. I still don’t deserve forgiveness, Marie, but I want it and I want it from you.”

She put her small hands against his chest, feeling the strength and warmth he gave, and feeling the remnants of doubt slowly wash away.

“I’ve already given it to you, Logan.”

Unable to resist, he lowered his head, resting his lips on hers. The kiss was subdued by their standards, especially knowing they both longed for more, but it felt like coming home. Everything else would come in time. Marie settled her head back on his chest, because tonight they were happy just to stand on that motel bathmat and relish the feel of each other. The touch of skin. The warmth of flesh. The hope of new love.

In a bed just outside the door, their son smiled to himself.