CLASS FIVE

CHAPTER 1 - Bridge

Savannah sat in the backseat of her parents’ SUV as they started their trip out to Grandma’s. She tapped her foot against the back of her mom’s seat as she hummed along to the music blaring out of her iPod’s headphones. She busily typed away at her cellphone keypad, filling in Gina, her best friend, on how awful this weekend had already started out.

She was supposed to go on a group movie outing with a bunch of other kids from school. Luke was going to be there, and she’d wanted to put on her cutest outfit to get his attention. It had been so important to her that he like her. When her Mom and Dad had decided to go visit her ailing grandmother, Savannah had cried and pleaded to spend the weekend at Gina’s. But her mother had given her a stern lecture and now, here she sat, on her way to that little town that didn’t even have a Starbucks. What was she going to do without her Vanilla Frappuccino?

She heard her mother’s voice echo through the music. Pale blue eyes snapped up from the cell phone to meet stern brown ones. Quickly, Savannah pulled the left earpiece out. “Huh?”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Savannah. You’re going to go deaf with the volume at that level. Turn it down, will you? Your father and I can hear it even from...”

The car suddenly jerked and slipped. Her mother screamed as her father cursed and swerved to avoid the moving cars. It felt like the world was dipping and rising. Was this what a car accident felt like? Savannah gripped the door handle and clenched her eyes as the car fishtailed endlessly. Her phone and iPod went clattering to the floor as they jerked to a stop. But the dipping and rising undulations kept on going. Savannah gripped the handlebar tighter, screaming in fear.

“Is it an earthquake?” Her mother asked frantically.

“No...” came her father’s terrified response. “The bridge...it’s flying.”

Savannah’s eyes popped open as her mother screamed in fright again. When she looked out the back window, all she could see was San Francisco growing smaller and smaller, the expanse of water growing larger and larger.

They sat frozen in terror as they moved further out from the bay. Savannah’s eyes, glued to the ever-expanding water, couldn’t process what they were seeing. She tried to make heads or tails of it, mouth hanging open. The movement over the bay slowed and came to a stop. She held her breath.

Suddenly, the world dropped away and her heart climbed up her throat in a frightened scream. Her mother and father, holding each other’s hands, cried out as well. The bridge crashed down and the entire car jumped up at least a foot. They were thrown around. Savannah hit her head on the window with a thud. When everything finally stilled, she brought a palm up to her aching forehead and pulled it away to see a small smear of blood.

“Savannah!” Her mother cried. “Are you hurt?” She unbuckled her belt and raised herself up on her knees to get to her from the front seat.

Nodding, Savannah squinted past the blur in confusion. “What’s happening?”

Suddenly, people were screaming and running out of their cars. Savannah’s father jerked at his seatbelt. “We have to go,” he said urgently. “Get out of the car!”

Her mother flipped back around and pulled at her seatbelt. Savannah unbuckled and practically fell out of her door. Her mother’s strong grip pulled at her arm and they ran through cars, weaving in and out. Other people ran as they did, screaming and hollering.

But there were people coming in the opposite direction. Weird looking people. They were calm and looked mean. They looked like the scary mutant monsters the news showed at night. Savannah cringed as her father stood in front of her protectively.

They pressed themselves back against a car as the people walked by. Savannah gaped at them in open shock. Some had tattoos on their faces, others had physical deformations that made Savannah’s stomach curl. She even noticed one wearing a creepy looking helmet.

And among all these ugly mutants were only a few normal looking ones. A blond boy, six or seven years older than Savannah. But there was a woman too. A beautiful woman. With red hair that flowed down her back like waves of fire.

And for the briefest of moments, the terrifying black eyes that seemed so bored moved and landed on the ten-year-old girl. Savannah felt light-headed, using her mother’s death-grip on her arm to stay upright. The woman didn’t stop her forward progress and after a breath, the eyes moved back to face their intended destination.

XXX

Marie was starting to get winded at mile two, which was just plain pissing her off. She huffed an irritated breath of air and stared at the numbers on the treadmill with disdain. She’d been running five miles each morning since....well, since a long time ago. She knew she’d slow down as her pregnancy progressed, but she just wasn’t ready for it to be now.

She growled at herself, grabbed the hand towel and threw it across her dismal statistics so she couldn’t see them any longer. She kept up her pace as she grabbed the hand-held control velcroed to the side of the machine and turned up the music.

Her ponytail swung against her back as she tried to keep up her pace. She was really breaking into a sweat now. This was getting embarrassing.

She was reaching for the towel to wipe off the moisture at the back of her neck when Logan’s voice ripped through the workout room. “What the hell are you doing?”

It caught her off guard and she stumbled on the belt. She gripped the side bars and nearly lost her footing before she caught herself and worked herself back to a steady run. She looked back over her shoulder momentarily to read him the riot act about sneaking up on her like that. She stopped her words when she noticed he’d run over to her, probably when she’s tripped. He looked sorry and angry at the same time. Quite an interesting look to pull off.

“Jesus, Logan. Warn a girl, will ya?” she panted out.

He growled. “Get off the machine, Marie.”

She balked. “What? I’ve still got...” she moved the towel aside to look at the numbers. She gave an internal groan of distress. “...two more miles.”

“You shouldn’t be pushin’ yourself like this,” he insisted. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

She laughed through her heavy pants. “Stop worryin’, Logan. You heard Hank. I should keep up my exercise routine. It’s healthy for the baby.”

“He said ‘an’ exercise routine, Marie. Not the one you have when you’re not four months pregnant.”

She huffed her annoyance. “Same difference.”

He pushed the towel aside and hit the down arrow button on the speed. “Time to shut it down.”

“Hey!” She breathed angrily. “Logan!” She pushed his hand aside and pushed the arrow up key back up to her normal speed. “I’m fine.”

He growled again. “You’re shirt is soaked, Marie. You’re going too hard.” He reached for the button again.

“That’s because I’m wastin’ energy arguin’ with you, Logan. Now let it be!” She swatted his hand away.

“Dammit, Marie,” he snapped. He reached out and ripped out the emergency pull that would shut down the entire machine.

She wasn’t prepared for the abrupt stop of the running belt. She flew forward and tripped while trying to catch herself.

“Fuck...Marie!” Logan cursed, trying to grab ahold of her arm.

She crashed to her knees, slamming her head against the front panel as she went down. Before she could register her fall, Logan was kneeling down on the treadmill right behind her, grabbing at her face.

“Christ! Baby... I’m sorry. Let me see.” He turned her over so that she was sitting on her bottom. He placed his knees on either side of her legs and grabbed at her chin. She felt warm liquid drip down her forehead and cheek.

“Is it bad?” It sure stung enough.

“Shit,” he muttered. He grabbed at the towel still sitting on the panel. When he went to press it to the gash on her head he froze. She felt the tell-tale itch and held her breath as she watched him watch her heal. Within seconds, the throbbing faded.

She reached up when he didn’t move and felt along the skin of her forehead. Smooth and soft.

She sighed. “It hasn’t faded,” she whispered.

He swallowed thickly, his eyes unreadable. “Yeah.” He carefully wiped away the blood.

He didn’t say anything beyond that one loaded word, and she didn’t push him. Something about the situation made him oddly withdrawn. She couldn’t figure it out. She thought it might bother him that she’d absorbed so much of Sabretooth. It made her nervous and anxious to think he might actually be apprehensive around her now.

“Logan...I’m sorry...” she tried.

He cut her off. “What are you sorry about, darlin’? I’m the one who pulled the plug...feeling kinda shity about that, by the way.” He smiled tightly.

She sighed, letting it go. She focused on the original problem. “You can’t be constantly coddling me, Logan. I’m not gonna break.” She raised an eyebrow. “Not without a little help, anyways.”

He grunted and frowned. “You need to take it at least a little bit easy, Marie.”

She huffed and wiped some sweat off her face. “You’re just feeling over-protective, Logan. It’s completely normal...”

“What isn’t normal is you not accepting that your body is changing. You can’t go like you’re used to and it’s botherin’ the hell outta ya.”

Marie chewed on her lip. “If you had it your way, I wouldn’t leave the bed, Logan.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I only suggested that once, Marie.”

She smirked. “But you’re thinking it every day.”

He let out an adorable growl. He shifted and sighed. “I’ll lay off...but you have to promise to take it easy.”

She tilted her head up to look at the panel above her. She was going to have to accept this sooner or later. The thought depressed her more than she expected. “Fine.”

He smiled smugly, like he’d won some argument. She wanted to shove the towel in his face. “Don’t think this means I’m not going out with the team anymore, Logan. I said I’d take it easy, not stay down for the count.”

This time his growl was real. Real and menacing. “Fuckin’ try me, Marie. You’ll find yourself locked in the bathroom.” He stood up and pulled her up by her hands to stand.

“Good thing you’re not in charge of the team, then,” she responded childishly. “I only have to get past ‘Ro.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’,” was his only reply. She smiled.

CHAPTER 2: Changed

Marie made her way down the hall towards the room she shared with Logan. She hadn’t been able to find him anywhere in the common areas. She’d check their room and if he wasn’t there, she’d go look down in the danger room. He’d taken to going down there more often, working off excess stress. She wasn’t too sure what he had to be worried about, but she guessed it had something to do with her.

She tried not to be hurt by it, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold it in. Was he nervous about the baby? It wasn’t uncommon for guys to freak out about that sort of responsibility or commitment, especially when it was so unexpected. But it only served to confuse her. He’d been quite adamant that he wasn’t going anywhere without her, that she was what he wanted, she didn’t think he was afraid of the commitment.

A baby then, maybe? She wasn’t too sure about that either. When the topic of the baby came up, he always seemed ridiculously proud of himself, as if he had done all the work. If he wasn’t busy being a smug bastard about knocking her up, he was driving her crazy with his overprotectiveness. So the idea that he was nervous about the responsibility...didn’t seem to fit either.

That left only her. There was something wrong with her or something she’d done. Ever since they’d gotten back from upstate New York and that blasted lab, he’d been getting more and more quiet, more pensive. She’d catch him looking at her with an intensity she wasn’t accustomed to. Sure, his stares were intense most of the time...especially when he was stalking her like she was his prey, which was all kinds of fun...but lately, they were becoming so feral, so primal, it made her nervous. Especially when he wouldn’t talk about what he was thinking.

She’d spent almost a full day down in the medlab after that dark time. Hank had wanted to run every possible test he could manage, worried that even with Sabretooth’s powers there might be drugs in her system still. She’d argued that they hadn’t given her anything and that she was fine, but Logan had growled dangerously at her, a first, so she'd promptly clamped her mouth shut and let Hank go nuts.

He’d been able to do a lot of the tests right there in the medlab. Everything was fine, as she suspected. She was, in fact, pregnant. Only four weeks. Barely enough for a man-made pregnancy test to catch. But both Hank and Logan apparently could smell it on her. She was getting tired of the mortification that came along with Hank being as feral as Logan. But he was kind and discreet and he made it far more bearable.

He’d sent out a handful of tests to Moira that would take more time. A few would take weeks as she was quite backlogged. There was one in particular that took a while. Hank had wanted to run another digitized autoradiogram on her blood sample. She’d just about forgotten about it until Hank, just arrived from the capital, had pulled her aside and mentioned that he and Moira needed a word with her and would she mind coming down to the medlab as soon as possible.

She’d been a bit shocked that Moira was here as well. She hadn’t heard the good doctor would be around until the end of the April for Marie’s regular check-up. He was quite serious and it made her nervous. She’d nodded and asked if she could go get Logan and meet them down there.

So as she walked into a dark bedroom, she sighed in disappointment. She really wanted to find him quickly so she could get some reassurance from him. She was quite shaky on her feet.

She noticed his boots on the floor next to the bed, though. She walked in slowly. “Logan?” Nothing. She was about to turn around when a growl came from behind her. Before she could turn around, before she could even register the sound, arms wrapped around and he swung her around.

She squealed in shock and gasped when her feet were lifted off the floor and she was dumped onto the bed. Logan’s face came into view as he climbed on top of her and nuzzled her neck.

“Good Lord, Logan...” she breathed. He rumbled a laugh. “You gave me a heart attack!” She half-heartedly punched his shoulder.

He’d worked himself down her neck and was now nuzzling her breasts through her shirt. He glanced up at her and grinned wolfishly. “Too easy,” he said and continued his exploration. “You smell real good, baby.”

She smiled despite herself. “How good?” she teased.

He growled deep in his chest. “Good enough to eat.” He nipped at her ribcage through her shirt.

She shivered deliciously. “What brought this on, sugah?” She ran her hands through his hair, completely mussing it.

He grumbled. “Can’t I wanna touch my girl?”

She laughed. “Yeah, sugah. Sure. Just curious as to why you’re hiding out in here in the dark waiting to scare me to pieces.”

He laughed. “Just woke up from a nap and heard you comin’ down the hall. Thought it’d be fun.” He nipped his way down her side to the edge of her jeans

He moved to her stomach and grew serious. Slowly he pushed up her shirt to uncover her navel and an expanse of skin. He traced the soft skin of her abdomen with his fingers and one of his intense stares. She watched as his fingers followed the slight lift of her skin. “He’s growin’,” came his soft words.

She smiled, deliriously happy. “He?”

Logan shrugged, barely. “Or she...can’t tell. Don’t feel right callin’ him or her ‘it’ though.”

She nodded.

He bent closer to her stomach and she thought for a moment he would kiss her tiny baby bump. The thought made her warm inside. He couldn’t possibly be sweeter, could he?

But instead of kissing her stomach, she was shocked when he began to nuzzle it, softly rubbing his cheek, forehead, nose, and mouth softly along the contours. She almost started crying at how lovingly he caressed their child.

He finally did kiss her navel and continued to softly run his fingers over her. “It’s somethin’ else,” he confessed.

“What’s that?” she whispered.

“The animal in me...” he said softly, never taking his eyes off her stomach. “The Wolverine.” He gave a soft, almost inaudible, laugh. “He’s always been so violent, so angry. He’s possessive and he’s only ever wanted things for himself.” He looked up at her. “Even you. All he wanted was to have you, never give you up.”

She smiled. “Doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to me, sugah.”

He half grinned, and then grew serious once more. “I always thought that part of me was just too dangerous, too inhuman. I never imagined that part of me would have this need...this overpowerin’ drive...to mate, to be so goddamn happy at the knowledge that you’re carryin’ my cub.” He cleared his throat. “My...child.”

He laid his head against her stomach gently. “Jesus,” he croaked. “My...child.”

She smiled and ran furrows through his hair. “Kinda overwhelming, isn’t it?”

He chuckled. “That’s one way of puttin’ it.”

“Is that...” She struggled for words. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet lately? Because you’re overwhelmed?”

He stiffened for just a second before relaxing again. “No.”

She pushed up onto her elbows. “Then what’s been goin’ on, Logan?”

He looked up at her and swallowed. “Marie...” He suddenly clenched his eyes. “It’s complicated, baby.”

“It can’t be that complicated. Just tell me,” she pleaded.

He crawled up and kissed her, one hand twining in her hair. When he pulled back he smiled. “Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

She set her chin. “You’re a stubborn man, Logan.”

He laughed. “Sure am. Now. What were you comin’ in here for?” He wagged his brows. “A little action, maybe? I’d be happy to oblige any of your cravings.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

He grinned wickedly. “Utterly.”

She sighed. “Actually...” She fidgeted. “I came to get you. Hank wants to see me down in the medlab.”

His eyebrows came down instantly. “The medlab?”

She nodded. “He wants to talk to me about something. Moira’s here too.”

She could see his mind race and start coming to the same worried conclusions. “Is something wrong? You okay? The baby?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what it’s about. He just said he wanted to talk to me about something.”

He growled. “Fuckin’ cryptic bullshit.” He pushed himself up and off the bed, bringing her up as well. “Let’s get goin’, then.”

XXX

“Ah, Logan, Rogue. Come, come. Take a seat in my office. Moira and I have been anxiously awaiting your arrival.” Hank’s blue figure strode across the room, his hands twisting frantically.

“What the hell’s goin’ on, Hank,” was Logan’s immediate reaction. “You got us down here, now spill.”

“Oh, yes. Naturally, you’re concerned. But please, do come in and sit down. It’s probably for the best that you’re both sitting for this conversation.”

Marie felt her anxiety spike to unnatural level. What was wrong that she would need to be sitting? She felt her heart take off and blood drain from her face.

Logan growled. An odd counterpart to the gentle hand he suddenly placed on her back. “You’re fuckin’ scarin’ her out of her mind, Hank.” A nifty trick, she thought frantically, being able to smell her so well.

Hank jumped in realization. “Oh, my dear. No. Please. It has nothing to do with the baby, I assure you.”

She felt the force of relief wash over her and almost blacked out. She closed her eyes and was horrified to feel tears squeeze out. She couldn’t help it. A trembling hand came up to her stomach protectively while the other gripped Logan’s sleeve. “Oh,” was the only thing she could manage.

“Jesus, Hank,” Logan barked. “Ya think you coulda told us that from the beginning?”

She felt a ridiculous sob escape and covered her mouth in an attempt to hide it. It was pointless really, especially around two blasted ferals who could hear a fart from across the building.

Hank looked horrified. “Oh, my stars and garters. Rogue, my dear. I did not mean to frighten you. I merely...I just wanted...” He stuttered over his words. “I’m truly apologetic for any distress I may have caused. Please...oh, please do not cry.”

Logan wrapped his strong arms around her trembling shoulders. She tried to hold herself together. “I’m s...sorry,” she stammered. “It’s these...stupid...hormones,” she hiccuped.

Hank scrambled for a tissue. When she wiped the tears away and finally got herself under control, they made their way into his small office, where Moira awaited.

The geneticist smiled sweetly. “I’m so happy you were able to come,” she said. “I’ve been so looking forward to talking with you, you have no idea.” She was practically jumping out of her skin.

Marie felt uneasy. The last time Moira had been this excited, she’d been talking about Marie’s mutant gene and its close resemblance to a Class Five mutation. Marie swallowed thickly. This was probably going to be just as bad.

Logan was getting more irritated by the moment. “Someone wanna tell us why we’re here?” He sat with arms crossed, a scowl on his face.

Hank jumped to respond. “Yes. Well, as you may remember, Rogue, when you were brought back here in December after the distasteful events at the college and the lab, we ran several tests.

Marie took a deep breath in and nodded.

Hank smiled warmly. “We were all very relieved that everything came back with no ill effects from your brief encounter with those awful individuals.” He smiled wider. It wasn’t like Hank to smile so openly. He always kept himself reserved, afraid that showing his fangs in an all out smile would scare others. She finally let out the breath she was holding. It couldn’t be so bad if Hank was smiling so damn much.

Logan grunted. “We already knew all that, furball. Get to the point.”

Hank quickly shuffled through some papers and files. “Yes, yes. Well, like I said. All the tests that came back showed everything to be normal. A couple of days ago, however, Moira called from her office in Seattle with the results from the last battery of tests.”

Logan growled. “And?”

Hank cleared his throat, clearly put-out by Logan’s dangerous tone. “Well, it took some time to complete the autoradiogram, you understand. Everything else seemed to be top-notch so there was no rush and you both are well aware that Moira is quite busy...”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Hank!” Logan snapped. “Spit it out!”

Moira jumped in her seat at his bark. She scrambled. “I was quite shocked to see the results.” She pulled out two autoradiograms. “See here,” she pointed.

Marie leaned forward, looking at the identical charts on their x-ray type paper. Logan leaned in as well, just as curious. They looked exactly the same. She glanced up at Moira. “What am I supposed to be lookin’ at?” she asked nervously.

“This one...” Moira responded, “Is from a year ago, when we first did your tests. This other one is this most recent study.” She moved her fingers across the two.

They still looked exactly the same.

Then she placed the newer chart over the older so that the two gene lines blended perfectly.

Almost.

Logan caught it first. “What the fuck is that?” He pointed to a sequence that didn’t match up.

Moira smiled widely. “Rogue’s X-gene.”

Marie snapped her head up to look at her. “Why is it different?”

Moira shuffled around. “Well, it’s not all different. Look there...”she pointed to a large section. “This area is exactly the same. It’s only in this area...” she moved her hand across to where the pictures smeared together, “...that the change has occurred.” Her eyes sparkled. “It’s unprecedented! Do you even know what this means?”

Marie looked at her, completely lost. “Umm, no?”

Moira stood and clapped her hands together. “Rogue, your genetic make-up has actually changed. Your mutant gene has actually mutated.”

Logan looked pale. “What’s that mean?”

“Well, it gets so much more interesting,” she gushed.

Hank cleared his throat. “Moira. This next part may come as a bit of a shock to Rogue. You may want to curb your enthusiasm.”

Moira instantly reined herself in. “Oh, yes. I’m so sorry.” She scrambled for more files.

Marie was getting desperate for answers. “What’s going on, Hank?”

He started to look nervous. “It’s a bit intense,” he stuttered. “That morning Logan found you, in the woods beside the truck accident...”

“Yes,” Marie nodded.

Hank pushed on. “We returned to clear the scene. There were some casualties, if you remember.”

She remembered all right. She’d killed every human on that truck before it had pitched to the side.

Hank spoke softly. “We recovered the body of Victor Creed.”

Logan growled. “Why the fuck are you bringin’ that bastard into this?”

Hank cleared his throat. “Logan, we ran complete blood work tests on his cadaver, for research purposes. We didn’t really make a connection until Rogue’s own tests came to be so surprising. Moira and I discussed the possible etiologies of the change in Rogue’s X-gene.” He grew quiet. “Moira came up with an idea...and it turned out to be quite astonishing.”

Marie felt bile rise in her throat. “What’s the connection?”

Moira stepped in, pulling out another autoradiogram sheet. “This is Victor’s gene sequence.” She placed Marie’s newer graph over Victor’s. There were differences all over the place.

Except where hers had changed. In the area of the X-gene that her two graphs had mismatched, hers and Sabretooth’s were identical. Marie froze in horror. “Does that mean...?” She couldn’t finish.

Moira nodded. “Has it faded? The healing?”

Marie wrapped a hand around her dry throat. “No.”

Moira smiled. “If you asked me for my professional opinion? I’d tell you I don’t think it will.”

Marie looked over at Logan. He was staring at the chart, moving not a single muscle except for the twitch in his jaw. She tried to get her voice to work. It came out cracked. “So you’re saying...?”

Moira continued on. “I’m saying, Rogue, that when you absorbed his healing, you took every last bit, the manifestation and the genetic mutation with it. You permanently altered your genetic code to accommodate his. And what’s so amazing is that you only did it with one part of his genetic sequence. You didn’t take the whole thing, not the feral, not the physical manifestations, just the healing.” She sighed and gazed at the chart. “A new level of Class Four. I could never have even imagined something this powerful. Every time we look at your mutation, there’s more and more proof of just how close to a Class Five you actually are, Rogue.” She looked awe-struck.

Marie felt sick. “So what you're trying to tell me is that I can heal now, from anything.”

Moira smiled. “Anything Victor would have healed from, and that’s quite a lot.” She licked her lips. “But I’m not sure you quite understand the implications, Rogue.”

“There’s more?” There couldn’t possibly be more.

Moira nodded. “Victor’s mutation, it’s regeneration. The ability to replenish the body so it doesn’t diminish. It’s quite strong. As strong as Logan’s, I imagine.” She smiled tightly. “Rogue, there’s no record of Victors birth, his skeletal structure shows no age markers, no stress on cartilage that would naturally occur in a man in his thirties.”

Marie’s mouth dropped open in realization. Logan finally jerked his eyes away from the chart to gaze at Moira with feral stare.

“Rogue,” Moira said quietly. “We have no way of telling how old Victor was because he didn’t age.”

CHAPTER 3: Breathe

She hadn’t even had time to process Moira’s statement before Logan jerked to a stand and slammed open the door to the office. Marie spun around in her seat to see him angrily making his way across the medlab, hands running through his hair and then practically ripping the sliding glass doors open so he could leave.

She sat there in utter stupefaction, mouth hanging open in surprise.

Hank cleared his throat after a moment. “This is a lot of information to take in,” he tried. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Rogue.”

Her mind finally kicked in and she tried to figure out what had just happened. Why had he stormed off like that? He had just...completely abandoned her to deal with this by herself. The painful sting that clenched her throat was beyond words.

She slowly turned to face forward in her seat once more, trying desperately not to cry. When she looked up, both Moira and Hank gave her sympathetic smiles of encouragement.

It was too much.

“I...” She could barely speak. “I think I need to...” She motioned to the door.

Marie wasn’t altogether sure if she’d meant go after Logan or something completely different. She just needed to breathe...and be alone so she could properly fall apart without witnesses.

Hank nodded. “Yes, yes. Naturally. You need time to absorb this new information.” He stammered through his next phrase. “Do you need assistance getting back to your room? You look a bit too pale for my liking.”

She shook her head. “No. Thank you, but no. I just...you’re right. It’s a lot. I just need to get some air.” She stood, one hand against the wall to support her. “I’ll come down tomorrow maybe? We can finish then?”

Moira nodded. “I’m here for a couple of days. Feel free to come and see us whenever you feel ready.”

She tried to smile and was sure it came out looking like a grimace. “Thanks.” She turned and wobbled through the medlab and down the hall.

By the time she made it to her room, she was on the verge of hyperventilating. She felt stupid. Why hadn’t she thought about the repercussions of her actions?

She sank down into her chair and looked down at trembling hands. She’d taken everything from Sabretooth, never even thinking that it would be permanent. Of all the times she’d taken from mutants, those powers always faded. Magneto had faded. Even Logan’s healing had slowly died down after Liberty Island...and she’d just about killed him that time. Some faded slower than others, but they did always fade.

She rubbed her head in aggravation when the floor vibrated, music from the downstairs hall. The older students playing their music at an ungodly level.

That’s when it dawned on her. Not everything had faded. Logan’s healing had slowly slipped away, but his heightened senses, those had stayed. Not nearly as honed or sensitive as Logan’s original ones, but they had stayed.

She stood and paced the room, twisting her hands frantically. Three months...and her healing hadn’t faded one iota. She’d cracked her head just the other day and it had healed up as fast as it would have on Logan.

And her test results....God, her test results. Those were undeniable. She stomped her foot. Why hadn’t they figured this out when she’d gotten Logan’s hearing and sense of smell?

’Cause they didn’t take blood samples and run everything until after that, months later. They never would have known about a genetic change at that point..

She sighed and rubbed her head again, fighting the urge to stomp on her floor when the music below turned to a heavy bass beat.

“Shit,” she spat petulantly. This was something she should have considered. Why hadn’t she?

Because he threatened to come after Logan....after the baby. She wrung her hands together. She’d been so absorbed in her fear that he’d never give up chasing them that she’d never even considered what it would do to her to pull all of it. She’d just assumed it would fade away in time, like every other time...almost.

She hadn’t looked before she jumped.

The realization struck her with terror. Her hand came up to clap over a terrified cry.

She’d changed. Her genes had changed. The very science that determined her a Class Four had changed.

Was she even a Class Four anymore? Moira hadn’t mentioned it. And she probably would have, being what that meant.

But at the same time, she’d just dropped this healing and non-aging bomb right in Marie’s lap. Maybe she was trying to build up to it. God, a Class Five.

She felt her lungs contract painfully. It was becoming impossible to take a full breath of air.

What had she done? What did this mean? Was she going to lose control? She would no longer age? And Logan... what was he thinking about all of this? He obviously thought it was pretty bad or he wouldn’t have stormed off like he had.

She tried to breathe, but the world was becoming foggy. She braced herself against the wall, bending over...trying...and failing....to breathe.

He’d left her. Left her. The world dimmed and she reached out to grab at the shadow of some random piece of furniture. She missed.

CHAPTER 4: Truth

It was slowly eating away at his sanity. Logan was on edge so often he thought it completely possible that Gumbo or Snowflake would end up at the business end of his claws at some point. They had a tendency to get on his nerves and on more than one occasion during practices, he’d imagined the sick satisfaction that would come of killing something...or someone. Jesus, he really was a monster.

But he couldn’t help it. Every time he watched her heal, watched that fucker’s mutation come to life inside her, his stomach would drop and his heart would end up in his throat. A physical testament to his emotional inner battle. He was at the same time bordering on terrifyingly scared and ecstatically happy. How the fuck was he managing that?

Three months and every time she got the hint of a scrape, a cut, a bruise...it would heal...instantly. And each time he saw it happen, he couldn’t help but hope it wouldn’t ever go away while being terrified that it wouldn’t.

It was a fucking Catch 22 is what it was. He was fucked if it did go away and fucked if it didn’t. This was going to kill him, slowly.

When McCoy and Moira sat them down and started talking in the most painfully slow and aggravating manner possible about Marie’s genetic code having changed, the realization that the healing wouldn’t fade hit him so hard he couldn’t even take a breath. His heart soared through the damn ceiling for just a second before reality came crashing down, leaving him wanting to fucking puke in self-loathing.

He couldn’t handle it. Before he had a chance to rethink the idea, his feet carried him out the door and his boiling rage at the situation came bursting out in a none too subtle way. He punched his claws through the school’s main hallway antique table.

Two of the little urchins, no more than fourteen or fifteen, had frozen in horror at his growling roar. When he’d slammed the front doors open so hard they bounced back off the walls, they’d scrambled in the opposite direction like the devil was biting at their heels.

He stomped off to the treeline and proceeded to hack away at an innocent pine with all the force he could muster, cursing so explicitly and loudly the children playing in the yard had stopped to openly stare. One of the boys, a basketball in hand, was so shocked at the level of profanity that the ball slipped through his fingers and bounced uselessly across the court.

Energy finally spent, anger turned into frustration and agonizing fear, he gripped the side of the ruined bark and let his head rest against it, his lungs heaving for air. His knees gave out and he landed on them roughly, staring at the grass directly in front of them. He let out a breath of defeat. That display hadn’t helped his nerves at all.

Figures.

He turned his head when he heard one of the frozen students shuffle their feet in uncertainty. He growled. Twenty kids ran in every which way direction. Finally alone, he grunted and heaved himself around, sitting with his back pressed against the mangled tree.

He felt pretty shitty for stalking out the way he had. He was going to have to go back down there soon and finish this conversation. There was too much they didn’t have answers for and Marie no doubt was going to need someone there for support.

Shit.

He banged the back of his head against the tree in realization. He’d messed up but good. She was probably down there right now trying to do this all by herself. He felt like a total piece of shit.

He stood and brushed off the grass and dirt from his jeans, already trying to come up with some half-decent apology. She probably wouldn’t be speaking to him any time soon.

When he made it back down to the lab, he was annoyed to find no one there. He hadn’t been gone for more than fifteen minutes. They couldn’t have already finished the entire damn conversation.

He took the time to smell out Marie’s scent and finally realized at the elevator that she must have gone back to their room. When he stepped off on the teacher’s floor, he found it confusing that Hank and Moira’s smell was just as strong as Marie’s, if not stronger. She must have gone up first and then they had, shortly after.

When the three scents met up with Storm’s right around the corner from his room, he was aggravated. Why were all their smells up here at once? It was the middle of the day and they should have all been at their respective classrooms or labs.

His ears picked up Marie’s voice just as he noticed his door was open.

“Hank, I said I’m fine.” Her voice was exasperated.

“Rogue, dear. This healing factor of yours is still quite unknown and I’m not willing to take the chance. Loss of consciousness is not something to take lightly...”

Logan found himself through their door before he could process anything he’d heard. One of the nightstand lamps lay shattered on the floor. “What the fuck happened?”

Marie’s startled eyes came up to meet his. Hank was hunkered down in front of her, a pressure cuff around her arm, furry blue fingers gently pressed to the pulse point on her wrist. Moira stood next to Storm.

Before she could stammer out any sort of reply, Storm cut in. “I heard a crashing sound when I came upstairs for my break. When I didn’t get a response from knocking at the door, I was worried and came in. Rogue was semi-conscious on the floor.”

“I said I was fine,” Marie grumbled. “Just a little upset about earlier. But she insisted on calling Hank and Mo...” She startled silently as Logan came down to kneel in front of her and take her face in one hand. “Logan. I’m fine.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” He asked automatically. “Falling, I mean.” He couldn’t smell any blood. So she hadn’t cut herself on the shards of glass scattered across the floor.

“No,” she answered quietly. “I must have knocked it over when I stumbled...” She sighed.

“You lost consciousness, Rogue,” Hank reprimanded. “Storm was quite correct in notifying us.”

“Is she sick?” Logan asked him in concern. It seemed like a stupid question, considering their most recent conversation.

“No,” Hank answered rudely. Logan blinked in shock. The fuck?

Moira cleared her throat. “We believe the stress of everything involved may have caused...”

“She suffered a panic attack, Logan,” Hank interrupted angrily. “The level of stress she is under is intense and her body reacted by hyperventilating.” He unhooked the cuff and shoved it in his bag. “I shouldn’t have let you go on your own, my dear. You didn’t look well. I should have known better. I do apologize.”

Logan stared openly at Hank. Was Hank pissed at him?

Hank went on. “The healing factor, as you are aware, Logan, only covers physical damage to the body. Rogue’s body was deprived of oxygen and she passed out. Luckily, she recovered quickly. But panic attacks are not a physical ailment, they are psychological. She must rest.”

He zipped up his bag and stood. “Perhaps you should stay and see to her mental well-being.”

Logan pointed a finger at the blue furball. “Listen here, bub...”

“Logan,” Marie said gently.

Logan clenched his jaw and held his tongue.

Moira cleared her throat. “We should be getting back downstairs.”

Storm, looking more confused than anything else quietly moved to the door. “Feel better soon, Rogue.”

“Thanks,” was Marie’s reply.

And with that, the three left the room. Logan let out an agitated breath.

Marie wrung her hands in nervousness. She looked a bit embarrassed, which was stupid. The only one who’d made a fool of himself was him. “Look. Marie...”

“Logan, I’m thinkin’ that this whole situation has to be pretty hard on you. And...” She swallowed with difficulty. “...I understand, you know, how angry you must be with me.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Marie?” This was unexpected.

She stood shakily. He reached out and steadied her arm. “You’re upset,” she said, a tiny crease forming between her brows as she frowned.

He gently smoothed it out with the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah, baby. I’m upset. But not at you. Jesus, don’t think like that.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’m a fuckin’ bastard for goin’ off like that.”

She nodded into his chest.

He snorted. “Freaked the hell outta me, that’s all. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, the anger doesn’t, anyway.”

She pulled away and looked up at him. “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours, Logan?” She sighed. “You’ve been so quiet...more than usual.”

He felt the fear clog his throat again. “Had some ideas....theories, I guess, that were aggravatin’ me.” He pulled away and walked across the room, arms crossed. “Got confirmed today.”

She eyed him. “...About the healin’?”

He nodded.

“You suspected,” she said plaintively. At his next nod, her brow scrunched again and her eyes closed in resignation.

He scrambled for words. “I didn’t know for sure. I didn’t even know what I was thinkin’, really, baby. It just...it was odd that it wasn’t goin’ away and the thought that it might not crossed my head and I didn’t know what to do with that.” She opened her eyes again to gaze at him. He grabbed the hand that she’d brought up to her mouth in agitation. “I got pretty upset about it. Wasn’t sure how to feel about it.”

She swallowed and looked a bit pale again. “It’s not like...I didn’t plan this.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Now he was the one wondering what was going on in her head.

“I’m pretty confused about all this. I don’t...” she sighed. “I’m feelin’ pretty insecure right now.”

Insecure? “‘Bout what?”

Her eyes opened a bit wider and she used a shaky hand to motion between the two of them. “About us, Logan.”

His head jerked back in surprise. “What the fuck for?”

She sat down on her desk chair. “You think I don’t know how much you wish this wasn’t happenin’? I’m scared to pieces you’re gonna run off at the thought of me bein’ around for...” she took a breath and stumbled over her words. “...a long time. That was never a part of the deal.”

He felt his hackles rise. “The fuckin’ deal is me havin’ you around as long as I can manage to keep ya,” he snapped. “You think I’m pissed off because I get to have you around indefinitely? I’d hoped you thought better of me than that, Marie.”

“I do,” she said quickly. “I’m just....completely lost here, Logan. I don’t even know how I feel about this.”

He tried to push down his hurt. After a few breaths he felt ready to face this...to tell her the truth. He knelt down in front of her, taking her small hands into his larger ones. “When we first...when I first knew I wanted you, needed you, it took me a bit to really decide what to do.” He didn’t look up at her. Instead, he focused on the soft skin of her palm, drawing small circles into it. “With my mutation, I’m pretty fuckin’ aware that I’m gonna be around for a pretty damn long time.”

She took a deep breath and he shook his head the slightest bit to cut her off. “I wanted you. I wanted to have a life with you. A normal one. One where I didn’t have to constantly be aware that the clock was tickin’. But I knew that wasn’t gonna happen. So I had to accept that I could have you, but lose you...eventually...one way or another.”

He looked up at her finally. She looked sick. “Logan...”

He kept on it. “I always wondered when you’d catch on to how hard it would be. You’d age and start seein’ how wrong I was for you, that I couldn’t give you a real life. But I didn’t care. I don’t care. I’d hang on as long as you let me and deal with losin’ you when that time came... ‘better to have loved and lost‘ and all that shit.” He snorted in self derision. “I’ve always been pretty delusional.”

She stroked his cheek, running her fingers through his mutton chops. “You’ve always been what I want, Logan.”

He smiled and placed his hand over the one she held to his face. “For now...but that could have changed. So easily. And then...Jesus, then you came back from that fuckin’ lab and I was just so damn happy you were alive and still you, I didn’t really think about it. This baby...all I could think about was how I’d always have a piece of you, even if it was only in our descendants. I was never gonna let that go. It was more than I ever thought possible.”

“When the healin’ didn’t go away...” His voice broke on the words. “I could barely breathe, baby. Do you have any idea what this means for me? You’re like me now. I get to keep you. Keep us for as long as I want.”

His hands were shaking. Fuck. This was getting to him. She was chewing on her lower lip and he had to get this next part out before he lost his damn nerve. “And I’m the biggest fuckin’ bastard for being so damn happy, baby. I’m such a bag of shit. ‘Cause this immortality thing? I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. That’s how goddamn hard it is. And here I am, wishin’ it won’t go away for you.”

And there it was. He waited as she continued to chew on her lip. Waited to hear her words of anger, of condemnation. But they didn’t come.

“Logan. I don’t see this as a curse. It’s a lot to take in, yes. But, I’m not alone. I have you. I can deal with this so long as I have you.”

She wasn’t seeing the complications. She wasn’t seeing how bad this would get. “Marie, baby. You’re gonna watch all your friends grow old and die. Everyone you know...” She nodded, looking for all the world like she’d already factored this in.

“You’ll watch our child grow old....and die.”

Her breath caught. And he hated himself for being the one to make her see what this life meant. But she had to understand what this ‘non-curse’ entailed.

“You’ll be put in situations where you wish you could give your life instead of someone else givin’ up theirs and not be able to. You’ll have lived a ‘full’ life while watching innocent children around you die. The guilt is crushin’, baby. It makes you question pretty much every part of your humanity.”

Tears were running down her face and he still needed to tell her more.

“Our baby. You’ll hope. Hope more than you can imagine, just like I have for you, that they’ll inherit my healin’. You’ll pray so hard that you’ll never have to watch them die. And you’ll realize what that would condemn them to. How many healers do you think there are? Do you have any idea how hard it is to let yourself love someone that’s gonna die on you? The chances of them findin’ what I did in you, somethin’ that’s worth that kind of pain? Not fuckin’ likely. And even if they do, they’ll be forced to watch them die and live out God only knows how many years without them. It’s an endless and painful cycle.”

She was crying in earnest now. He felt like such a dick. “I’m sorry, baby. I know it’s pretty soul crushin’. I’m sorry this is happenin’ to you.”

She shook her head, platinum streaks of hair falling across and sticking to her face. “No.” She took several deep breaths. “I’m not sorry.”

He blinked. Huh?

His confusion must have shown on his face. She looked pretty damn determined. “I’m not sorry,” she repeated. “I’ll never be sorry. I’ll never be sorry for bein’ the one thing that doesn’t die on you. This whole time...I’ve had you. I’ve walked around confident in the fact that you would be around and love me for the rest of my life. And you...you’ve never had that. I can give that to you now. I’ll never be sorry for you knowin’ you’re loved until your dyin’ day, whenever the hell that is.

He thought he might fuckin’ implode from the sheer emotional impact of her words. He couldn’t breathe, much less answer her. What the fuck had he done in the part of his life he couldn’t remember, personally hold the gun to Hitler’s head and pull the trigger? There was just no damn way he’d ever earned someone like Marie in the life he could remember.

He’d just about talked himself out. In the ten minutes since they’d been alone in the room, he’d spoken more words than he’d done in his whole remembered life. Jesus. With her words went all his ability to talk. He had the sudden urge to finish this conversation with action.

She squeaked in surprise when he launched himself up off the floor to kiss her for all he was worth. Her face in his hands, he pushed her back to the bed to show her what he couldn’t tell her.

As far as he was concerned, actions always did speak louder than words.

CHAPTER 5: Snack

Marie closed the door of the fridge using her elbow. Her hands, otherwise occupied holding a box and a squeeze bottle, were unavailable. She scooted her fur covered feet across the tiled kitchen floor over to the counter where she placed the items and then lifted herself up onto the stool. She had to readjust her bottom a couple times, her bigger size quite unaccustomed to such a small stool.

She rolled her eyes and muttered. “Even my ass is bigger...”

She kicked off her slippers, which were just too hot for July and hooked her feet on the bar at the base of the stool. She reached for the box and quickly opened it, the tip of her tongue peeking out unconsciously.

“Hey, chica.”

She nearly flopped backwards from surprise. Regaining her balance she placed a hand over her heart. “Good Lord, Jubes. Don’t do that. You’re gonna scare me into pre-term labor.”

Her spunky friend snorted. “Naw. That’s gonna be Logan and his annoying attitude lately.”

Marie smiled. “Take it easy on the guy. He hasn’t been sleeping well.”

Jubes laughed. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around? You’re the one who’s gonna spit out a baby in a month. Why is he having all the trouble?”

Marie smiled. “‘Cause I’ve been using him as an extra pillow.” She pulled out one of the Hershey’s chocolate bars from the box and began to unwrap it. “I end up all over the bed trying to get comfy. Last night I had both my legs completely over his stomach...to keep my knees up and relieve the pressure off my back...” she smiled, clearly amused. “He thinks I’ve done lost my mind.”

Jubes hopped onto the stool across from her. She did it with so little effort, Marie had to take a moment to give her a good glare. The tiny Asian didn’t even notice, so Marie went back to unwrapping her bar of chocolate. Jubes grabbed up her hair and started tying it up into a ponytail. Marie noticed the small wince at the stretch. Over six months of intensive physical therapy had greatly improved Jubes’s range of motion in her shoulders. She was back up par as far as the team was concerned. But the muscles still tightened easily and it caused some pain. Wearing a tank-top, Jubes’s scars were visible -- one just next to her clavicle and the opposite further out, basically on her upper arm. Both had corresponding marks on her back. They’d faded nicely, thanks to Hank, but they’d always be visible. Warrior wounds.

Jubes grabbed the box and snatched another bar out. “Can’t imagine why. Chocolate? I thought you were supposed to have like super weird cravings or something. You’re up in the middle of the night, eight months pregnant, in the kitchen, with chocolate? What happened to pickles and ice cream or some nasty stuff like that?”

Marie finished unwrapping her bar completely. Jubes didn’t bother. She ripped off a chunk of paper and foil and bit off a sweet chunk. “You’re such a boring pregnant lady, Rogue,” Jubes teased.

Marie smiled and shrugged. “Not everything has to be outrageous, Jubes.”

That earned a snort. Which was immediately followed by a frozen face of startlement. Marie had reached for the squeeze bottle.

“You gotta be kidding me...” Jubes said.

Marie smiled and proceeded to squeeze a generous portion in squiggles over the chocolate bar. Her mouth was watering in anticipation.

Jubes sat up and back in abject horror. “Seriously?”

Placing the yellow bottle back on the table she licked her lips dramatically and took a nice big bite. The tang from the mustard offset the sweet chocolate perfectly. She swallowed and sighed in enjoyment. When Jubes did nothing but sit and gawk, Marie took another large bite.

Jubes brought a hand up to her mouth and gagged before flying off the stool and fleeing from the room.

Marie called after her, “Would you have preferred ice cream and pickles?” She chuckled through her next bite.