Stick Together by Rogue88
Summary: Rogue is sent back in time by a third party who was unaware of Logan's plan.
Categories: Days of the Future Past Characters: None
Genres: Angst, Shipper
Tags: None
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 8 Completed: No Word count: 7224 Read: 30236 Published: 08/19/2017 Updated: 03/09/2023

1. I've Got You by Rogue88

2. Remembering by Rogue88

3. Parting Ways by Rogue88

4. Something Wrong by Rogue88

5. Unexpected by Rogue88

6. Weird Pill To Swallow by Rogue88

7. Before/After TheStorm by Rogue88

8. Kicking Up A Storm by Rogue88

I've Got You by Rogue88
“We all have to die sometime.” Charles said sadly and turned away. He made it to the third stair and then fell to his knees, clutching his head.

“Charles!” Hank ran to his side and checked his pulse. “You need another dose.”

“No!” He looked up at Logan, tears streaming down his face. “She's here.”

“Who's here?” Logan frowned and knelt at Charles' feet.

“She's in the house.” he breathed. “She's so afraid.”

“Who?” Logan seized the younger man's arm and shook him.

“Who's in the house?” Hank asked, helping Charles as he struggled to his feet.

“Marie.”

That single word was all it took to render Logan speechless. The nosey little stowaway who had crowbarred herself into his life all those years ago. The doe-eyed, naďve kid who almost got herself killed trying to wake him from a nightmare. The sweet sliver of beauty in the shit-heap he had called a life.

It was only because of her he had something worth fighting for. She had given him a home, a family, a reason to live. Before her, there was nothing. He fought, drank, and moved on. No plan, no purpose. Just survival. If she hadn't climbed into the back of his truck that day, he would still be alone – or dead.

He certainly wouldn't be standing in front of Cerebro, fighting the urge to tear the door down as Charles knelt before the retinal scanner. He didn't remember it taking this damn long. A long moment later he saw her, curled up on the floor by the console, shielding her bleary eyes from the harsh white lights, wearing nothing but a paper hospital gown and a thick metal cuff.

He ran to her then, barely suppressing a growl when she shied away from his touch.

“It's alright.” he gathered her gently in his arms and whispered into her hair. “I've got you, darling.”

“Logan?” she sobbed, shaking hands clutching his shirt.

“I've got you.”
Remembering by Rogue88
“What happened, darling?” Logan asked softly. Marie sat before him on an infirmary bed, a heavy wool blanket draped around her shoulders. Hank and Charles sat a little way off as Logan stroked her hair, whispering against her forehead. “How'd you get here?”

“Victor.” She sniffed and Logan looked down at her.

“What? How?”

“Forge built a time machine.”

“...I don't know what to say to that.”

“He'd been collecting historical data for a while, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. He traced it back to Bolivar Trask. Said we were all dead the minute the Sentinels went online.”

“He told you all that?” She shook her head sadly.

“He was all set to make the trip, but the Sentinels found his hideout. Victor escaped with the tech, then he came to get me.”

“Why didn't this Victor guy do it if he had everything he needed?” Hank asked and handed her a cup of water. She gave him a small smile and sipped it slowly, her throat still a little raw from months of disuse.

“Apparently, you can only go back if you haven't been born yet.” She turned back to Logan. “Some Back to The Future paradox shit about running into your past self.” Logan nodded and stroked her hair, patiently waiting for her continue.

He could imagine the pain she was in all too well, having experienced a fair amount of his own. Although there wasn't a mark on her, she had clearly been through the ringer. Even without his enhanced senses he could see how she shook, how her eyes darted about at every little sound. With his senses, he could hear her heart racing and smell her anger and fear. It made him sick.

He kissed her hair as she continued.

“He dug in through a crack in the foundations and broke into Cerebro. Woke me up and told me to find the both of you. Said you'd take care of Trask and Stryker.”

“William Stryker?” Charles sat forward in his chair and she nodded.

“What do you mean he woke you up?” Hank frowned.

“They put me in a coma.” Logan's hand fisted in her hair and she leaned against him. “I absorb other mutants' powers. When he touched my skin, he transferred a little of his healing ability into my body.”

“So, what does Stryker have to do with this?” Logan asked, his jaw set.

“They're working together. And if they both die, we're all free and clear.”

“Well, that kind of goes against my plan.” Marie raised an eyebrow and he continued. “Kitty sent me back here to see that Mystique doesn't assassinate Trask. Charles told me that's how the war started.”

“Wait, how the hell did she send you back?”

“By transferring my future consciousness into my past body. Obviously.” She was quiet for a moment before replying.

“You don't have to be a dick about it.”

“I know. It's just funny.” he grinned and kissed her nose. She fisted her hand in his shirt and they stayed like that for a long moment before Charles cleared his throat.

“Well, they've certainly given us a lot to think about, Hank.” he nodded grimly, his eyes fixed on the rail thin woman before him. He scrubbed a calloused hand over his face and sighed. “I say we all take an hour to wrap our heads around...all this.”

XXXXXXXXXX

Logan watched as Marie wrapped herself in a fluffy white bathrobe, barely keeping his animal in check at the sight of her. He didn't think she weighed more than a hundred pounds, her skin was pale and paper-thin, her hair lacked the shine and body he remembered. He supposed it was only Victor's healing factor was the only reason her muscles worked after months of being in a medically induced coma.

“Feel better now?” he asked softly as she sat between his legs on the bed. His breath was warm on her neck and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“So much better.” She smiled and leaned back against him, turning her head as he nuzzled her damp chestnut curls. “Still a little weak and wobbly, but I'm getting there.”

“I'm so sorry I let this happen, Marie.” he sighed and held her tighter.

“You didn't.” She frowned and turned in his arms, standing between his legs as his hands moved to her hips.

“I made you a promise, and I failed.” His hazel eyes shone in the mid-afternoon sun, glistening with sorrow and rage. Her own eyes burned with unshed tears.

“That's not what happened.”

“I let my guard down, and you got taken. It was my mistake. You shouldn't have suffered because of it.”

“I don't want to cry any more, Logan.” She straddled his lap and rested her forehead against his. “I don't want to think about what they did to me, or how long I've been gone.” She buried her fingers in his hair and he wrapped his arms around her waist. “I want to think about that first night in Madripoor.”

“You can't handle that right now, darling.” He almost sounded like he meant it, but the slight growl in his voice told her she had him.

“We were holed up in that dive in Lowtown. Just the two of us.”

“Marie.” he warned. She began unbuttoning his shirt.

“We were dirty and exhausted and high on adrenaline.” She removed his arms from her waist and pushed his shirt down over his biceps. “We took off our wet clothes, and you checked me over for cuts and bruises.” He gazed up at her with dark eyes, muscles straining as he tossed his shirt across the room. “Your hand was between my legs.” she breathed as Logan untied her bathrobe. “And then-” He kissed her. Deep and hard.

She whimpered against his lips as he stripped her of her robe and lay her down. He flipped her over and straddled her thighs, pulling her hips up to meet his. She looked over her shoulder in time to see him unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down just far enough to free himself. He leaned over her and growled against her cheek.

“Remember, darling,” he reached under her hips and parted her soft, wet folds, his hard cock poised at her entrance “You asked for this.”

He thrust into her then, burying himself in her sweet heat in one long, smooth stroke. She gasped into the comforter, realising the moment he stilled inside her that he had been right – she wasn't ready for him. But she needed him nonetheless, just as he needed her. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way his hand gripped hers as she fisted the sheets, the way he breathed her name against her shoulder.

The first time in the Princess Bar, he had bent her over a dirty table and fucked her hard and fast while she begged for more – the animal had claimed her. Later, when she had had time to recover and he had wound down, he had taken her again. He was different with her then, more gentle than he had been before, and she could swear she had felt him in her soul. It was the first time they made love, wrapped around each other on the moonlit dance floor of a condemned nightclub.

She thought about Madripoor a lot those first eight days in her cell. Sitting in the pitch black, given just enough protein mush to keep her alive until they figured out what to do with her. She would play those nights over in her head, and prayed every time she heard footsteps outside her cell door that it would be him here to rescue her. But every time, a guard would shove a plastic tray through a flap and walk away.

She hadn't thought it was possible to miss anyone the way she had missed Logan, and being with him again brought tears to her eyes. He squeezed her hand and nuzzled her cheek, kissing her softly when she turned her face to him. She reached back to bury her fingers in his thick hair and pushed her hips up a little, earning herself a deep growl.

“I missed you.” He began moving against her, sweet and slow, the calloused fingers beneath her massaging her clit in time with his thrusts. She half-moaned and tugged at his hair, arching her back as he rolled his hips against her. “I won't last long if you keep that up, darling.” he huffed, moving harder, faster, deeper with every thrust.

“That's the point.” she grinned and he applied more pressure to her clit, nipping the smooth column of her throat.

He could smell how close she was and it drove him wild. It was getting more and more difficult to keep the animal caged, but there was no way she could handle the Wolverine in her current condition. He just had to hold on a little longer and hope that the beast would back off once he was satisfied.

“Logan, I-” Her walls were beginning to flutter around him and the hand in his hair fell away to grip the comforter.

“Just let go.” he rumbled against her throat, as he had many times before. He held her close as she quietly came apart beneath him, whimpering incoherently as he followed her over the edge.

He didn't move again for some time and she found a great deal of comfort in his weight, both above and inside her, and his heart pounding in time with her own.

After a moment, he slowly withdrew from her and pulled up his jeans. She felt the mattress rise as he stood, then his hands on her once again as he wrapped her in a blanket and gathered her in his arms. He settled again on the bed, sitting back against the headboard as he held her tightly.

They stayed like that a while, just taking each other in, until Hank knocked on the door to them he had made lunch, causing Logan and Marie to grudgingly separate.

He watched her dress in a blue school t shirt and grey sweatpants, the bruises he had left already faded from her alabaster skin. But whether she bore his brand or not, she would always be his. And he would never let her go again.
Parting Ways by Rogue88
The prison break had been, for the most part, a success. Of course, everybody wanted to kill Erik for various reasons, but they had managed to reach the airfield without bloodshed.

Logan slammed the car door and froze, sniffing the air. The scents were unmistakable - the salt of tears and Victor Creed. He ran suddenly toward the jet, taking the steps three at a time to get to Marie. He found her alone, curled up in a leather seat with a glass of whiskey in her shaking hands.

“What happened, Marie?” He knelt beside her and stroked her hair.

“He was looking for you.” she sniffed “I told him everything.”

“Everything?” he raised an eyebrow and she nodded.

“About the labs and the wars and sending me back.” She looked at him then, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I think he went after Stryker.”

“Shit.”

“What's wrong?” Charles asked, tossing his jacket onto a chair as Hank readied the jet for take off.

“My brother.” Logan rumbled “I have to go after him.“ He kissed Marie's hair and stood, giving giving Charles a rather stern look. “Stay with her.”

“Right.” he took the seat opposite her and held her shaking hand.

“He doesn't go anywhere near her.” Logan pointed to Erik, idling by the door.

“Well, are we coming or going?” he smiled, eyeing Logan as he stepped closer.

“You're going to sit there.” he growled, pointing to a seat behind the cockpit. “You won't move, you won't talk to anybody, and maybe you'll make it out of this in one piece.”
Something Wrong by Rogue88
Marie had slept all the way to Paris, too concerned about Logan to do much else. Of course having Erik near, despite the fact that they had all joined forces during the war, only put her more on edge.

Charles sat with her the whole time and squeezed her hand reassuringly every time she whimpered or tensed up. She seemed to find his presence comforting, and he thought long and hard about his school and all of the children he'd tutored in the past and all that Logan said were to come.

He let his eyes slip shut for a moment, opening them to find Hank sitting across from him. He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes with his free hand.

“What's going on?” He looked from Hank to the cockpit and back again. “Who's flying th-”

“Autopilot. The peace talks have been cancelled.”

“Why?” Erik sat up in his chair and closed his book.

“Bolivar Trask was found dead in his hotel room.” Hank said. “Apparently, he slipped in the shower and broke his neck. And that Stryker guy was stabbed in a back alley. They're calling it a mugging gone wrong.”

“How do you know that?” Marie mumbled.

“I, uh, built a radio into the cockpit to scan for chatter about the talks, and I just heard.” She nodded as if in recognition.

“Some things never change.”

“So, do you think your friend had anything to do with it?”

“It has to be Victor, or someone he works with. Most of them were pretty tight.”

“So it's over?” Charles asked.

“No, I don't think so.” Marie sat up beside him and pulled the thick wool blanket around her shoulders. “If it were, I'd probably be gone by now.”

“What does that even mean?” They all turned to a very confused Erik. “What are any of you people talking about?”

“I'm not sure myself.” Charles frowned and looked to Hank. “We have to make contact with Logan as soon as possible, collect him and Raven, then...figure out where to go from there.”

“We're landing soon.” Hank stood and made his way to the cockpit, and Marie rested her head on Charles' shoulder.

“Any ideas?” He asked, sipping his whisky. She was still exhausted and he could feel her slipping away again.

“There's another name on the list. It's buried. I need help remembering it.”

The next thing she knew, she was in Logan's arms. She pressed her nose into his neck as he carried her to the rec room.

“I missed you.” she whispered.

“I missed you, darling.”

“I heard about Trask and Stryker.” she sniffed and curled in on herself as he lay her on the couch. “Did you find Victor.”

“Yeah.” he sighed.

“And?”

“In his own words he 'took care of it'.” Logan perched on the edge of the coffee table and stroked her hair. “He's rounding up the old team for 'just in case'.”

“We might need them. Whatever this is isn't over yet.”

“I know. I was just hoping we could get this over and done with. I want to get back home.”

“Me too.” She nuzzled his hand. “I can't remember the other guy's name.

“That's been bugging me non-stop.”

“I might be able to help with that.” Charles entered in his chair, clipping a side table and almost sending an antique vase sailing to the floor.

“Really, Chuck?”

“I'm a little out of practice. And don't call me that.” He came to a halt before the couch and smiled at Marie. “Now, give me your head.”

“Wouldn't kill you to say please.” She sat up and rolled her neck.

“Alright. Just sit still, and try to relax.” He raised his hands to her temples.

“I know the drill.”

Although she tried her best to clear her mind, Charles still had to fight his way through her memories of war, torture, and wanting to die. The experiments she had been subjected to, similar to the ones Shaw had inflicted on Erik, were beyond brutal. He had no idea how she was holding up as well as she was.

“Chuck?” Logan asked when Charles began to frown, searching for a memory that seemed always just out of reach.

“E...Es” He hissed and broke the connection, almost falling out of his chair.

“What did you see?” Marie asked, holding Charles' hands as he righted himself.

“Something...wrong.”
Unexpected by Rogue88
Logan and Marie headed to bed right after dinner, settling in to the sound of soft rain on the window. Marie was just drifting off when she heard it. She felt the mattress lift behind her and watched as Logan walked around the bed to the window.

“What is it?” she asked, reaching for her dressing gown at the foot of the bed.

“Victor.” he huffed and pulled on his jeans. “And he brought company.”

Hank made it to the door before Logan, and nervously ushered in Victor and his companions. Of course he recognised Victor's scent from the jet, but he was unsure of his friends – and their intentions.

“So, this is how you've been living?” Victor asked as Logan descended the stairs, closely followed by Marie. “Old habits, huh?”

“What is this?” Logan gestured to the others.

“I told you I was getting the gang back together.” He shrugged. “The ones I trust, anyway.”

“I'm touched.” John Wraith stepped forward and tipped his hat at Marie. “Ma'am.” She smiled and Logan rolled his eyes.

“John.” he growled.

“I'm just being friendly, man.” John grinned.

“Yeah, I know what you were doing.”

“Alright.” Chris Bradley put his hands on their shoulders. “As fun as this is to watch, we should probably talk.”

“What about your friend?” Marie asked, pointing at the truck outside the front door where Fred Dukes was sleeping soundly.

“I'll get him.” John said and vanished abruptly only to reappear in the seat next to Fred. The sleeping man stirred as the truck shifted with the sudden addition of John's weight.

“We there yet?” he mumbled, wiping at a string of drool on his chin.

“Second dinner?” Marie asked Logan, already moving off toward the kitchen.

“Sounds good to me, darling.”

Before long, they were all sat around the kitchen table, picking at their leftover lasagne. Fred was tucking in to his third helping when Chris broke through the smalltalk.

“So, I found something interesting in Stryker's files.” He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a handful of folded papers.

“What's all this?” John asked, scanning the pages. “Memory augmentation?”

“What's that?” Fred asked around a mouthful of ground beef.

“Messing with your mind.” Logan grumbled and ran a hand though his hair. Chris nodded.

“But, as far as I know, the technology for this doesn't exist.”

“Stryker was working with some other asshole; some creepy doctor who talked about 'advancement' a lot.” Victor added. “Maybe he helped things along a bit.”

“What do we know about him?” Hank asked as he collected their plates. Victor looked to Logan who nodded.

“Well, Chris reckons he's about 150.”

“So, he has time on his side.” Marie frowned and sipped her tea.

“And then some. He's what they call a mutate.” John raised an eyebrow at Chris.

“And what, prey tell, is that?” Marie cut in before Chris could answer.

“It means he shouldn't have any active powers.”

“Exactly.”

“So, what keeps him ticking?”

“I remember now.” Marie sat stone faced, tears running down her face. Logan took her hands and rested his forehead against hers.
“What is it, darling?”

“He was there.” she whispered. “In the lab.”

“The doctor?” Victor put his hand on her shoulder.

“Essex.” She held a crumpled sheet of paper in her shaking hand. “He told me what he did. How he got his powers.” She sniffed. “He showed me what he can do.”

“That's who I saw in your head.” Charles sat with his head in his hands and sighed.

“You seem to know who were dealing with.” Erik said. “Do you know how to stop him?”

“I don't even know that we can.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nathaniel Essex was disowned by the medical community for...playing God. He performed unspeakable experiments on mutants in an attempt to understand our powers. He was attempting to overtake evolution – to have control over it. He created a serum that would activate his dormant mutant genes. It made him into a monster.”

“What kind of monster are we talking about?” Fred asked nervously.

“He has all the power he craved. And more. He can heal from any injury, read minds, move objects. He can manipulate his own physical form at will. Many have tried to stop him, and lost their lives in the process.”

“How exactly do you know all this?” John frowned. “I mean, I thought this dude was ancient.”

“My great grandfather lead the charge against Essex.”

The awkward silence that followed stretched out for quite some time, and was only broken by Raven's unexpected entrance.

“Oh.” she uttered from the kitchen door. “If I'd known you were having a party, I would've called first.”
Weird Pill To Swallow by Rogue88
“Wow.” Raven picked at the crusts of her cold toast, staring at the tea pot before her as she processed what Hank had told her of the newcomers. “Time travel.”

“Yeah.” he nodded. “It's a...weird pill to swallow.” He stood and took her plate to the sink, putting off the question he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to.

“So,” she said after a long silence “I guess I should thank that Victor guy, huh?” Hank stiffened and clenched his hand around a butter knife, warping the handle slightly. “I mean, he saved me the trouble of...”

“Would you have?” He asked finally. “If Trask had still been alive, would-”

“I don't know, Hank. Maybe.” Raven slumped over the kitchen table and buried a hand in her hair. “But, when I heard that he was dead...when I knew I wouldn't have to...” she sat up again and wiped at her tired, teary eyes “...I was relieved.” Hank sighed and put a hand on her shoulder.

“That's really good to hear.”

“Thank you.” She put her hand over his and sniffed. “For being nice to me. I know I've been-” Hank cut her off.

“I don't want to think about that right now.” He squeezed her shoulder and took back his hand. “It's late, and we have a hard road ahead of us.”

“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes again and stood.

“Your room is just as you left it.”

“Thanks.”
Before/After TheStorm by Rogue88
“So,” Raven yawned and cracked her neck “I think we're screwed.”

“That's the attitude, sunshine.” Victor grumbled into his coffee mug, laying an arm across the back of Marie's chair.

The sun had barely risen, but most of the house's occupants had been crowded around the kitchen table for hours, racking their brains for a way to beat Essex. So far, they had come up empty.

“Well, what if we hit him with everything at once? How's that for an idea?”

“It's not the worst idea.” Logan said thoughtfully, and Marie nodded.

“We have tried everything else.” She rubbed her tired eyes and leaned back in her chair, her head falling against Victor's shoulder. “But it's not going to be easy getting everybody together. Or getting our hands on a certain something.”

“So, how does that plan go?” John frowned and leaned against the fridge, ignoring Erik as he entered in his dressing gown.

“What plan is that?” He poured himself a cup of tea from the pot and bit into a cold pancake.

“The plan where you shut the hell up and do as you're told.” Victor growled and Marie squeezed the hand on her shoulder.

“Okay.” Logan sat forward in his chair, head in his hands, and began to walk them through it. “If Charles hits Essex with a psychic attack, he should be too distracted to see us coming until it's too late.”

XXXXXXXXX

“Well, that went well.” Victor sank down on the antique couch in Charles' study. His black shirt, crusted with dried blood, clung to his chest as he heaved a great sigh. Charles sat with his head against the cool surface of his desk, a glass of scotch in his hand.

“At least we're all still in one piece.”

“Speak for yourself.” Raven groaned as she entered, poking tentatively at the large purple bruise encompassing her throat. “This eye is sill blurry as all hell, I lost three teeth, and a finger.” She sat and held up her left hand, showing the stump where her middle finger used to be. “It was my favourite one.” Victor took her hand and inspected the bandage.

“Can't you just...you know?”

“Know what?”

“You know.”

“No, I...no.”

“Make a new one.”

“I don't think it works like that.”

“Well, have you tried?”

“I'm tired, so...” She turned her attention to Charles. “Do you think they're okay?”

“I can only hope so.” He lifted hi head as Hank entered with their new recruit. “And how are you doing?” he smiled at the boy. He didn't smile back, too shaken by the events of the last 24 hours to feel the delight he'd thought he would. Instead, he frowned.

“I'm...not sure I know what just happened.”

“If I remember correctly,” Raven took a swig from her bottle of champagne and curled up against the arm of the couch “It started with a jailbreak.”
Kicking Up A Storm by Rogue88
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