It had been long and tiring day, filled with work, work and more work. This and that needed patching up, had to pluck off bullets and look after the kids so that they didn’t go and hurt themselves to the tranq darts those commandoes left behind. He had been running up and down stairs and corridors. Now all he wanted to do was to go to his room, lock the door behind him and sleep. Sleep until his limbs stopped shivering, and his eyes didn’t feel like they had been sanded over anymore. Only one task separated him from his bed. He had to go and pick up Marie from the mall. She had called half an hour ago, complaining that she had gotten lost from Jubilee and the rest of the crew.

He took Scott’s bike. Easier to navigate through clogged streets with it than one of the Xavier’s SUV’s.
“And let’s face it…” He huffed when walking past the black van.
“They cramp my style. I’m no soccer mom.”
Right. Who was he kidding? If he wasn’t coaching Xavier’s junior athlete team in gym class, he was driving them around from one game to another with Xavier’s mini-bus, or picking up stray residents from different locations. Nobody else had the time to do it. He was the only one with spare time in his hands due to the lack of teaching license.

“Hi. Looking for a ride?” She spun around quickly, relieved look on her face, and run to him.
“I was so scared! Do you have any idea what kind of people loiter around here at this hour?” She asked, climbing behind him and wrapping her hands around his waist.
“I do. That’s why I don’t ask you kids to get lost and wander around alone out here. Where’s the rest of your merry pack?” He asked, jostling her hands a bit until her grip felt secure enough.
“Well, duh! I wouldn’t have called to you if I knew where they were!”
“What ever… Is there something you need, or can we go home?” She could hear from his voice that the latter option was the right answer. Now that she was sitting here, whole body pressed against his, she could practically feel exhaustion radiating from him. It was coming somewhere deep inside of him, soaking through his skin and saturating the air around him. He was wiped.
“Let’s go home.”

To her surprise he didn’t pick the straightest route that would have taken them to the mansion in less than half an hour. He chose smaller side road instead.
“Forgot to eat earlier,” he explained after stopping in front of a diner. And he didn’t want to part her company too soon. She was the one person from the whole bunch living under the same roof with him that didn’t annoy the living crap out of him.
“You really should take better care of yourself,” She chided him gently when they walked in and took seats from the counter. He had a grayish hue on his skin and black blotches around his red rimmed, bloodshot eyes.
“You think so?” He asked, eyeing the menu, trying to decide what to eat. Finally he gave up and shoved it to her.
“You pick something. I’m too fucking tired,” he said, rubbing his eyes. She ordered burgers and fries for both of them. They sat and waited in silence. Either of them felt the need to talk. To her it was enough to be around him, to him just the sound of her heart was nearly revitalizing. It didn’t erase aches from his used up body, but it soothed his mind.

“You need a day-off.” He nearly choked to his fries.
“Day-off? Sure! As soon as Ororo finds two or three extra pairs of hands, why not…” he snorted. He had never been much of a team player, but after everything what happened Jean’s words had come back to haunt him. Good guys stick around. He had done that. It was the least he could do, stay around and look after those who survived. His way to mourn and honor her. His way of proving himself that he was more than just an animal that Stryker had tried to make out of him.

“You’re no good to anybody if you tear yourself apart. Sleep late tomorrow. Kick back and relax. Come to the city. Have a beer. Just be you. You’re entitled to it.” He wanted to do it. Wanted everything Marie told him he would deserve. But he didn’t want the extra package that would follow him around the whole day if he dared to take his mind off from the work. Memory of a dead woman.
“I just need some sleep. Tomorrow I’ll be better. Eat up and lets go,” he urged her, munching away last of his fries. She huffed and finished her soda, pushing away her plate. He eyed her half eaten fries, gaze flashing briefly over her hollow cheeks. She had lost weight. Look in her eyes told him not to question it. He shrugged his shoulders, dug up his wallet and paid for their meal.

“What the fuck…” He sat up confused. Sun streamed through opened curtains to his bed. There was a tray on his nightstand. A thermos, empty mug, sandwiches and a note. “Good morning. I took the liberty to turn off your alarm clock. I hope you slept well.” Handwriting was Marie’s. Scent that floated in the room told him she had just left. Sound of the closing door had woken him up. Ten o’clock. He started to go through tasks he had planned for today. Some painting. Few panels needed changing. Couple new walls to student dormitories. And he was already late for his self-defense class.
“Just wait until I get my hands on you…” He tried to growl, but that growl turned to a pleased groan when he opened the thermos and a scent of fresh coffee wafted out. All images of maiming a certain little goody-two-shoes fled and gave a room to more mellow ones. He wouldn’t skewer her for this. Maybe little spanking would be enough to remind her not to mess up his schedule never again.

He had just finished his shower, and sat on the bed, pulling on jeans, when there was a knock on the door.
“Just a minute!” Most likely Ororo. All ready to electrocute his hairy ass for sleeping late. When scent of vanilla and peppermint tickled his nose he grinned smugly. Not Ororo. Tinker-Bell. He yanked the door open, grabbed Marie’s arm and hauled her in, putting on the most furious snarl he had in store.

“Don’t you never… Ever mess up my plans again…” He had her cornered, just a hint of claws peeking from his knuckles. He had waited her to scream, but the reaction was quite the opposite. She stared at him, hand pressed to her mouth, holding her breath. And she was giggling. Fucking giggling at him!
“What?” He barked, trying his best not to let a smile of his own to ruin his threatening posture. She reached one, gloved finger to his face, wiping something sticky off from the tip of his nose. A small goop of raspberry jam. He had finished his breakfast after the shower, and one of the sandwiches had had said jam on top of it.

“I just came to see if you’re ready,” she said, taking a napkin from the tray and wiping the jam on it.
“Ready for what?” He asked, hunting through drawers for a shirt.
“For your day-off. I’m taking you out, so that’s a no-no! Take this,” she said snatching worn looking flannel shirt from his hands and shoving a black T-shirt to him instead.
“I already told you it’s not…” Small finger pressed against his lips and cut off further excuses.
“Grab your coat and we’re good to go. I talked this over with the Professor, and he said it was a good idea.”

“Look, this is nice and everything, but you can’t seriously think that I’m…” He had parked the bike to a back alley of a bar after consulting the owner of the place. He knew the man well enough to know Scott’s bike was safer there than in any other possible place. He had taken a beer and she had drunk a soda. After that she had taken him to see a movie. Some overly romantic comedy. He really couldn’t even remember the plot or if it even had one to begin with, but he knew he would remember how she clung to his arm and sighed deeply at the end of it for the rest of his life. Now she was tugging him after her from that same arm, nearly hard enough to pull it out of its socket.
“A spa? Marie…”
“Come on, you big wuss! You’ll love it!” Wuss? He hauled her to him, dangling her above the ground with one hand, other keeping her chin up, eyes glued to hers.
“Wuss? Little girl… Are you forgetting to whom are you talking to?” He nearly growled, face only inches from hers.
“Duh! Not! You really think I would drag Scott in here? Even though I happen to know he wouldn’t make such a fuss out of this…” He dropped her like a sack of potatoes, and she had to grasp his wrist to stay in balance.
“Spa it is.”

He was quite sure even Scott wouldn’t go as far as to accept this kind of treatment. He lay in a some kind of bathtub that was filled with mud. Some sort of clay mask was slowly drying on his face. Marie lay on a tub next to his, covered from head to toe in similar fashion, pearly white teeth flashing. She was grinning from ear to ear.
“This is supposed to make you relax and purge all kinds of toxins. After this we go to a hot bath and soak there for a while.”
“Can’t wait. This suspension is killing me.”
“Aww… Logan… What would you rather do? Soak up in here and do nothing, or rebuilt the whole fucking mansion from the scratch? Because that’s what you have been doing lately.”
“I would rather have a beer and a good fu…”
“That kind of things weren’t on my ‘to do’ –list. I’m quite sure you’ll manage those on your own,” Marie intervened quickly, blushing slightly under her mud mask.

“Look, kid… I really do appreciate this… This all you have been doing,” he started when they sat at café outside of the spa.
“But…?”
“Yeah. There’s always that. I like to spend time with you. I have to admit I kind of liked even that spa-thing, but just because you were there. Those are not really my idea of entertainment and relaxation.” Marie scrunched her forehead.
“I know those are not your things. But those are the only places I can get in. I can’t take you to a bar. Well, technically I could take you there, but they wouldn’t let me in…”
“Wouldn’t let you in?” Logan asked, raking his eyes over her and tilting his head.
“We’ll see about that. Come on,” he said standing up, taking her hand and pulling her after him.

She eyed her surroundings suspiciously. Tiny flat was filled with all kinds of frilly knick-knacks, feather boas, glittering dresses, leather and chains. She stood beside Logan, who was talking with the owner of the place. They were seemingly old friends. She really didn’t want to know how close friends Logan and busty blonde were, but she had a bad feeling she would eventually find it out.

“Nothing trashy. I don’t want her to look like a…” Logan grew silent, word stuck in his throat.
“Always the gentleman. I think I know exactly what you’re looking for. And she’s just the right size…” Woman said, turning around and going to a locked closet. She returned shortly, carrying a pile of black leather.
“This should do the trick.” Logan just stood there. For a moment all three of them stared at each other questioningly, then blonde pushed clothes she was carrying to Marie.
“Go on. Try it out,” she urged her.
“I’ll wait outside,” Logan said and turned to leave. Amused laughter made him look back.
“And I thought you two were shagging!” Blonde giggled. Marie looked about ready to dissolve from the scene through the floor.
“Cut it, Lee. Just make sure she gets in with me.”

Lee. So that was her name.
“Isn’t that nice. Leave a poor girl with a complete stranger. I swear I will smack some manners to that brute some day…” blonde muttered and extended a hand. After a brief moment of hesitation Marie shook it.
“I’m Lee. Old friend of Logan’s.”
“I’m Rogue. A friend, too. And I really have no idea what he’s up to now.”
“Figures. He doesn’t talk too much. He wanted me to make you look old enough to get in to a bar with him. Are you in?” Lee asked, taking the folded leather from her hands.
“I guess I am. Do your worst,” Marie grinned. Lee started to feel nice enough.
“I will…”

When Lee called him back to her tiny apartment, and he saw his comrade in crime again, Logan nearly swallowed his tongue. There was nothing trashy about her. Long hair neatly combed, let loose and falling over her shoulders, all the way to the small of her back, white bangs shining with a stark contrast against dark brown tresses. Just a hint of make-up to accentuate her features. Figure hugging, sleeveless dress made out of thin, soft leather. Knee high boots made out of same material. Leather gloves covering her hands up to her elbows. Everything grayish black, except long silk scarf around her neck. Forest green, color bringing out her eyes and lips completely different way than he had ever seen before.
“But because the neckline is so low, she’ll need some kind of jewelry. I might just have…” Lee returned to her dresser, but Logan called her back.
“Don’t bother. I know what she needs,” he croaked.
“And Lee? Thanks. I owe you one,” he shouted over his shoulder while steering Marie out.

“This was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but…” She could only gasp when Logan brought the necklace around her throat, clasping it. Thin silver chain held a small piece of shiny almost grey material. It was a tear shaped lump of adamantium, attached to the chain with very delicate web made out of silver.
“I will never take this off,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a hug. He answered to it little awkwardly, not used to that kind of show of emotions.
“Well, that way you’ll always know who to turn if you need anything…” He felt something wet in the corner of his eye and pulled away from her embrace, covering the sudden tightness in his throat by coughing a bit.
“And something more… You don’t have to take this, but…” Small velvet box. She took it from him and opened it. A ring. No engravings or Stones adorned its smooth silver surface. She looked at him puzzled.
“Logan?”
“Not that kind of ring,” he said, nearly laughing at her unsure expression.
“It’ll turn off your skin. As long as you wear it against your skin you can safely touch other people. Now, you don’t have to take it, but I thought…” All the while he had been talking she had been tugging her glove off. She had slipped the ring to her ring finger.

Her lips brushing against his cut off further explanations. Kiss was brief and chaste, more of a slow sweep, but it was enough. Enough to make him stutter.
“Marie… Kid, I… I don’t…” She chuckled at his dazed expression.
“Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me,” she said, raising to her toes and placing another brief kiss to his forehead.

“Do I get to see your idea of relaxation now?” She asked, nudging him with her elbow gently to bring him out of his trance-like stare.
“Uh… Sure. Sure. As soon as I can figure where to…” His head was swiveling around almost desperately. Then he seemed to find what he was looking for. The same bar they had left Scott’s bike earlier.

“Can’t really order you a soda in here. Drink slowly,” Logan said, placing a glass of wine in front of her, and taking a seat across the table, placing his beer in front of him with a little unsteady hand. He could still feel the warm whisper of her lips over his. Tingling feeling it evoked in his chest. Slight buzz in his head. Limbs heavy as lead. He was fucking drunk and he hadn’t touched the beer yet! He realized she had kissed him just because she could do it now. He just happened to be the lucky bastard standing close enough when she put on that ring. And she was just a kid. Okay, her eighteenth birthday was next week, but compared to him she was probably a toddler at best.
“Logan?”

She had to ask twice to get his attention.
“There’s no cage in here. And all waitresses have clothes on. Are you sure this is your kind of place?”
“This is our kind of place. I was planning to take you out drinking when you were old enough. This would have been the place.”
“You’re not drinking. Is there something wrong with your beer?” Was her next question. He was oddly reluctant to drink. Cold beer would wipe off that warm, tingly feeling her brief kiss had left to his lips.
“No. Nothing wrong with it,” he sighed, brought the pint to his lips and took a sip, nearly choking on to it when Marie’s eyes went wide, and heavy, clawed paw landed on his shoulder.

“Isn’t this nice. Runt and his bitch. Having a great time?” Sabretooth hissed to his ear.
“Back off, Vic. I’m not here to start a fight…” He muttered. Sabretooth’s claws dug in his shoulder painfully through his jacket.
“That’s a shame. I was expecting a little action,” he shivered when Victor’s coarse tongue swept over his earlobe. Fucker was marking him. And Marie looked positively scared, frozen to her seat, eyes glued to Victor’s hulking figure.
“Why don’t you run off to your master, like a good little kitten?” He asked. Victor snarled and dug his claws deeper. He could feel them pierce his skin. They sat deep enough to tear a chunk out of him if he tried to move.
“I was having a good day. Then I saw you… We still have a score to settle. It wasn’t very nice to throw me off from that statue. Do you have any idea how cold and wet water can be at that time of year?”
“It happened fucking year ago. Get over it already, Vic…” Sabretooth’s other paw landed on his other shoulder, massaging almost gently tightly coiled muscles in there.
“I will get over it soon enough… If you wish to keep your bitch in one piece, you will get up from this chair and follow me…”

She had watched in utter terror when Logan stood up and followed bigger mutant almost docilely. Now he was walking back to their table, smug grin on his face.
“Fucking moron. Walked straight out. I told Marcus not to let him back in,” he said sitting down and taking another sip from his beer.
“Marcus?”
“Bouncer. He’s a mutie, too. Can turn to liquid. Vicky-boy can claw him as much as he likes, but he will not get past Marcus.”
“I was so worried!” He got his lap full of Marie. Her warm, lithe body wrapping around him, face pressing against the side of his neck.
“Hush. Big mean cat went away. No need to worry about him anymore,” he whispered and rubbed her back in soothing motion. It felt weird, to feel her warm, bare skin against his palm instead of cloth. But it was good feeling.
“What if he’s waiting for you when we leave?” She asked, tensing and pulling away from him, eyes seeking his.
“We’ll worry about that if it happens. I know him and I know Marcus. Vic hates to get wet. Marcus won’t hesitate to use his mutation. I could bet Scott’s bike on that at the moment Vic’s on his way home, soaked to the core.” And if he wasn’t, he was going to get his gut full of cold adamantium for scaring Marie.
“I’ll go and get us something more to drink. Why don’t you go and see if there’s some good music in that piece of junk over there,” he proposed, pointing at the jukebox standing in the corner.

“Found anything interesting?” She gasped from surprise when Logan leaned against her back, trying to read titles over her shoulder.
“I don’t even know half of these!” She huffed. Logan shrugged his shoulders, smiling a little.
“Nobody but Earl knows around here. But it’s mostly good stuff. Don’t really know from where he has dug up all these songs. Let’s see…” He leaned even closer, running his finger over labels, looking for something. Finger stopped briefly over “Alice Cooper: Poison”, but continued fast, trailing lower. She chose a song and pressed play before he had the chance. “Poe: Wild”. She hadn’t heard it before, but Logan obviously had. He raised his brows.
“Really?” She had to take a big gulp from the wine he had brought her when she started listening the lyrics. Light make-up did nothing to cover the blush that crept over her cheeks.
“You choose the next one…” She muttered retreating back to their table.

He had listened that song over and over during his journey, while searching his past. Not that he cared about music, but something in this particular song made his ears perk up every time it played in the radio. “3 Doors Down: Here Without You”. At first he had tried to brush it off. Then he had started to wonder what made him notice it at first place. It wasn’t until she came to his mind, that he realized what made him take notice. He had been missing Marie.

“And now that I have made a complete ass out of myself…” She started.
“Don’t. I like this song. No need to be embarrassed. I don’t think that you choose this to send a message. Shouldn’t have teased you like that,” Logan said, listening the lyrics of the song she had chosen. They suited her well. She wasn’t as shy and naïve as people tended to think. Soon enough song ended, and the one he had chosen started to play.
“I chose this on purpose. Missed the gang back here while I was away last winter. For some reason this one was the most popular one. Every fucking station had this on their play list. Several times a day. Kind of grew on me, I guess…” He confessed, standing up.
“I’ll go and get a beer.”

She watched his retreating back and listened the lyrics. She could see him clearly, sitting on a campfire, in the middle of nowhere, hands curled around a cup of coffee. Thick layers of snow covering the scenery around him. Alone and cold. Suddenly she felt like crying. And giving him yet another hug. She sprinted after him, nearly tripped over, but managed to find her balance just in time to avoid collision with a wooden support beam, skirted past it and stumbled against Logan’s back. Next thing she knew she was pinned against the counter, two lethal metal claws on both sides of her neck, third extending slowly and scraping the hollow of her throat.

As soon as his attacker’s identity registered he retracted his claws and hauled her up on her feet, backing off couple steps.
“Christ! Are you alright, kid?” He asked, eyes locked to her throat, searching for possible damage. She just stared at him mutely, gaze fixed to his knuckles.
“Marie! Are you alright?” He snapped his fingers in front of her face and that seemed to bring her out of her stupor.
“Jesus! Remind me never to scare you again!” She huffed, remembering to breathe again.

She had briefly seen her whole life with him flashing before her eyes. Every little conversation, every situation from the moment she had first seen him in that dive in Laughlin City, to the moment her hands collided to his back just few seconds ago. Funny. Most people claimed that moments like this made them remember their whole life, even their childhood, but all she had seen was really just snippets from here and there. Every brief, and little longer moment she had spent with him.

“Hold that beer. I think we need something stronger,” he said to the bartender. Man hadn’t even batted a lid during the whole commotion, but now he nodded and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, clunking it and two glasses in front of him.
“On the house.”

Golden liquid burned going down her throat, but when it reached her stomach, that burn settled to a pleasurable feeling of warmth. Logan had thrown back three shots in the time it took her to consume one.
“Calm down. Nothing happened,” she tried to reassure him.
“Nothing. Right. I just nearly skewered you. What the hell were you doing anyway, sneaking up on me like that?” He asked
“I wasn’t sneaking up. I tripped over. Chose to collide with you rather than that counter.”
“Next time choose anything else but me. Even a fucking harvester would be a safer choice…” It started to look like evening was over. Worry and hurt were clouding his eyes.

“A harvester couldn’t bring me back afterwards. To me you’re the safest possible choice in any given situation,” she said, scooting her chair closer to his. She started to feel little tipsy, and it was hard to keep straight face when she saw everything in double.
“But I think I have drink enough for tonight. Can we go home?” She asked yawning, knowing he was just looking for an excuse to leave. Relief flickered briefly over his features.
“Yeah. We can go home. Tired?” He asked, ruffling her hair. She nodded and let him help her up.

“Will my coach turn to a pumpkin soon?” She asked, taking a glimpse of herself from the mirror behind the counter when they walked past it.
“What?”
“Haven’t you seen Cinderella?” She asked.
“No. Who’s she?”
“It’s a fairy tale, you silly! It’s about this poor girl. She has an evil stepmother and evil stepsisters. Then there’s a prince and a fairy godmother who makes her a beautiful dress and coach from a pumpkin so that she can go to a ball, and that prince falls in love with her. But there’s a small problem. At midnight spell wears off, and she has to leave before that, so that prince won’t see how poor she truly is…”
“Lee is a fairy godmother? Wait until I tell her that! She won’t believe her ears!” Logan was laughing when they walked out of the door.
“And that will make you Cinderella. Who’s the prince?” He asked, still laughing. That laughter ended up to a rather embarrassing snort when his gaze met hers.

“I don’t do fairy tales, Marie.”

He couldn’t sleep. He knew she was on the other side of the wall. He could hear her tossing and turning in her bed, as sleepless as he. After his rejection… Rejection it had been. They had both been drunk, but that didn’t change the fact that she had confessed her feelings towards him. And he had thrown that confession to the ground and stomped over it.

Their ride back to Xavier’s had been silent. Parting at her door uncomfortable. Either had had nothing to say. He wanted to take it back. He really wanted to be that prince Charming, sweeping her off from her feet, but he knew he wasn’t the right material for that role. He wasn’t a prince. Closest comparison he could dig up was a distant memory about another tale about a girl in a glass coffin, surrounded by dwarves. She had been poisoned. Old woman, selling apples. She had poisoned half of an apple, eaten the good part herself and given the poisoned one to the girl.
“I’m no prince. I’m that fucking apple…”

He was adding the second layer of lacquer to the wooden paneling outside of Xavier’s office when he detected her presence. She kept her distance, but she was there. Hidden in the shadowed staircase, watching. Uncertainty. Hesitation. Fear. Hint of hope. Sadness. He kept his back turned. Sweep of brush, dip it to the can. Another sweep. His vision started to blur. Her eyes were drilling a hole to his back. Sweep after sweep. He knew he should stop. He would ruin the surface soon if he kept adding more layers. He forced himself to lay down the brush and close the can. Scent of the stuff was giving him a nasty headache, and fumes clogged up his airways. There was no other reasonable explanation why he felt so fucked up and beaten. He collected his tools, all the while feeling her emotions washing over him, crashing to him like waves to a cliff. Suddenly he couldn’t get out fast enough. He escaped her to the foyer leading to kitchen, nearly knocking over herd of students in his haste.

She didn’t know what to think anymore. Yesterday had been perfect, up until the moment she had accidentally startled him. After that evening had gotten weird. Logan had gotten weird. And that weirdness had carried over the night to this day. She couldn’t forget the look on his face when she had kissed him. She couldn’t forget his almost cruel words when they were leaving from that bar.
“I don’t do fairy tales, Marie.” And that was a big fucking lie. He didn’t do fairy tales? If that was true, then she must be imagining her whole life in here, when in reality she lay stiff, frozen solid in a snow bank, somewhere near Laughlin City, because her prince charming had turned out to be an ugly frog who had dropped her to the side of the road and kept going, never looking back.

He was putting away his tools in the garage when she walked in. Door slammed shut after her, and he could hear her locking it.
“You know better than that. Should know. That door won’t hold me.”
“I didn’t lock it to keep you in. I locked it to keep others out. We need to talk.”
“What’s there to talk about? I thought we said everything last night.” He didn’t turn to look at her. He kept his hands busy, pouring turpentine to a glass jar and plunking the brush he had used in there to keep it soft. He reached for the lid, and it slipped from his fingers, skittering over the floor and ending at her feet. He huffed frustrated and swiveled around, claws erupting from his hands.
“You may be some fairy tale princess for all I know, but I’m sure as hell no prince. I don’t think even those Grimm brothers could conjure up anything as fucked up as I am. Stay the fuck away from me!”
“Would you stop that already? You can’t scare me off. I know you won’t hurt me…” Suddenly she was pinned against the wall, razor sharp metal claws hovering over her throat.
“What makes you so sure?”

His warm breath was tickling the side of her neck and she could feel his chest expanding against hers. She knew he was gauging her mood, taking in her scent. Suddenly he huffed and retreated, claws sliding back inside his arms.
“I could have hurt you last night.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Not this time… Open that door, kid. Let me out.”
“We are not finished yet.”
“Yes, we are…” He was pacing restless in front of the door. He looked about ready to claw off the lock.

He wanted to get out. He had to get out. He wasn’t going to deal with this. He wasn’t going to deal with angsty, teenaged brat. He wasn’t going to, because that would have meant dealing with himself, too, and he was quite sure that was an alley he didn’t want to turn to. Only God knew what lurked in those shadows. He wasn’t ready to face himself. Not even close. Thin sheen of perspiration rose to his skin. Trapped. He was fucking trapped, and there was nothing he could do. This wasn’t like back then when he was kept in that lab. This time there was nobody to maim. Just him and his captor. Marie.

“I can’t do it. Let me go. Now.”
“Why? Give me a reason.”
“I just can’t. Open the fucking door. Please, Marie.” He looked so miserable right then, eyes pleading, shoulders slumped. She didn’t have the heart to continue the third degree anymore. She gave him the key.
“What about…?” She was twirling the necklace he had given her last night.
“Me keeping my paws off from you is part of the package, kid. I can’t… I won’t hurt you.”

He stayed in his room, behind a locked door for the rest of the day, until he was sure she had gone to bed. He had fiddled with his backpack, thought of leaving hovering just under the surface.
“Can’t even do that…” He kicked it frustrated. He couldn’t very well just leave after he had promised to help her if she needed any help. He couldn’t leave the team. Scott was slowly coming to terms with Jean’s death, but it would be a long journey before he was ready to take on responsibilities of a team leader again. Professor and Ororo needed him around the mansion. Everybody was quite reluctant to hire outside help. He didn’t blame them. Stryker’s attack had left them vulnerable in many levels.

When he heard her door closing and locking for the night he crept out. Sudden small noise made his ears perk up. Silent cuss, coming from her room. Something small hitting the wall. Clinking noise when it hit the floor. Ring. He winced. It hadn’t been easy to come by. Had taken him nearly a year to obtain it. Time didn’t matter. Look on her face and her reaction had made it all worth it. And now… One fucking lousy night and she apparently couldn’t stand that small scrap of metal near her anymore. He raised his fist hesitantly, knuckles hovering inches from the smooth wooden surface, but in the end he splayed his fingers and just grazed her door silently.
“Just tried to help you out, kid…”

She waited until she could hear Scott’s motorcycle pulling off before coming out from her room. Only one driving that beast nowadays was Logan, so it was quite safe to assume he had left. For good? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. Wasn’t going to allow herself to care. She had taken off the pendant and the ring he had given her, and sealed them to an envelope with a small note. She walked in his room and left the envelope to his bed, on his pillow.

For one night she had spent in heaven. She had actually been naïve enough to think that he had gotten that ring for both of them. Now it was quite clear it was meant only for her. And that was something she couldn’t accept. Gift of that magnitude would keep her in debt for the rest of her life. She knew Logan wouldn’t see it that way. He would never, ever collect that debt. No. For that he was too fucking chivalrous. He wasn’t the prince Charming. He was her knight in shining armor, riding pure white stallion. Protecting her from life, never letting her down from her tower.
“Where’s the fucking dragon when you need one?”

“I have no use for these.” Six small words. He had read them over and over again, holding the ring and pendant in his hand. Now all three of them, jewelry and the note were tucked in his breast pocket, along with a small faded picture of her. They served two purposes. They had become a talisman to him, a reminder of what happened when you dared to care. And they helped a bit when pain got too much, and temptation to return made his feet itch. All he needed to do was to feel their weight against his heart, and he knew he couldn’t go back.

Everybody blamed her. Nobody said it out loud, but she could read it from their eyes. They didn’t know the details, but they knew she had something to do with his abrupt need of his own space.
“Look out, people… Who will the mansion whore strike at next?” She muttered under her breath when people scurried away from her in hallways.

“… At the worst possible time. Scott isn’t well. What was she thinking about?” She could hear Ororo’s voice from Xavier’s study. She paused in front of the door. She wanted to hear professor’s opinion.
“You know she has harbored feelings towards Logan ever since the beginning. Was it such a shock to you, that she finally gathered the courage to act upon those feelings?” As usual, man didn’t speak about the issue, only skimmed it.
“I was aware of that. But she should have known what he would do! After all, she knows him better than any of us. You don’t suppose she did it on purpose?” She had to grit her teeth to stop from barging in there. On purpose?
“What did she gain when Logan left us?” Professor was asking. She could practically hear wheels turning over in Ororo’s head.
“Her freedom. It was quite apparent Logan wasn’t willing to answer to her feelings, yet he did everything in his power to keep her close to him, away from boys of her own age. Didn’t you ever notice that?” She couldn’t listen anymore. So she got rid of Logan just so she could start dating? How self-centered Ororo thought she was?

“Freedom, my ass…” She was more confined now than she had ever been when Logan had been prowling around. At least she had had friends. Now people treated her like a horny leper. Something to avoid, because at any given minute she could latch on to them, driving them eventually away from Xavier’s. She stormed in to her room, and just stood there, in the middle of it for a moment, taking it all in. Small but tidy. Stuffed animals propped to every possible surface. Narrow bed under the window. Desk and a chair. Few closets. Door to bathroom. Behind it a small sink, shower, bathtub and a toilet seat. It all felt so meaningless. Her life had packed up and left the building, and she had a feeling it wasn’t going to come back on its own.

She shrugged out of her stupor and pulled worn duffel from her closet. Half an hour later she had gathered everything she owned. Every personal item she had purchased with her own money. All the rest she would leave behind. She would find Logan and tell him it was safe to return. Then she would move on, find her another place to live. This was the one place Logan was wanted and needed. Even loved. She had no right to take it away from him.

“Lets see… Where would you go?” She was sitting on her bed, trying to access the scraps of his memories she still had left. She had made an effort to keep them under wraps. She hadn’t wanted to pry. When he had touched her at the Statue of Liberty, he hadn’t done it so she could go poking around in his head. But now she needed information. She knew he had most likely headed somewhere north. She had to find a specific location before she went after him. No use to go running around. She wouldn’t find him that way.

She had everything she had gotten out of him neatly organized and labeled in her mind. Easier to keep things under that way. She carefully avoided grey and black areas. There were all the things he feared. Not very comforting scenery under those clouds. Past lighter colors, filled with everyday stuff that had been going on in his life when they met. She knew exactly what she was looking for. It was tucked behind all the other memories, wrapped to a tin foil. Tight little package, glittering in the back of her mind. Something she had sworn to never open. It was something she feared. She pulled it out, turning it around hesitantly. Information she needed was in there. There were lots of other things, too. Things she rather not knew about. How he felt about her, deep down in unconscious level. Information she needed was tightly interlaced with that stuff.

Cabin was exactly as he remembered. Needed little tidying up and fixing, but he could spend winter in here. He flung his backpack to the corner and stretched on the sofa, listening silent crackling from his vertebrae. He hadn’t been this wound up in ages. Even the simplest task of lying down made his muscles and joints protest audibly.

Time to die again. Stop thinking about Stryker. About his past. About Jean. About Xavier and all the others. Lock away memories of her. Hibernate until he was ready to face the world again.

He shifted a bit and pulled a tattered envelope from his pocket. Opened it and poured its contents on his stomach. Read the note again. Snorted, trying to get over it. It was no use. Those words, written with her handwriting curled around his chest. Icy chain, nearly crushing him. It hadn’t been those specific items she had returned, thrown away. It was him. She had told in no nonsense manner that she had no need for him anymore. He tried the ring on. It barely fit on his pinkie. Nausea gripped his insides, and he pulled the ring off quickly before it managed to do any irreparable harm to him. For him it was poison. For her a salvation. And she had thrown it away because of him.

It started to get cold. He could smell first signs of approaching snowfall in the wind. Good enough reason to start chopping wood. He already had storage full of dry tree trunks; all he had to do was to cut them small enough pieces to fit in the stove and fireplace. Axe needed sharpening. Easier would have been just chop them up with his claws, but he wasn’t looking for easy. He was looking for a different approach. It wouldn’t take long to sharpen that axe. It hadn’t even rusted.

It took three days from him, but now he had enough logs to keep him warm over the whole winter. For food he hadn’t given that much thought. He could hunt when he got hungry. Which wasn’t so often when he was laying low. Everything seemed to slow down for him when he came here. He was winding down. His world was winding down. He suspected it had something to do with the nature of his mutation. Basically there was an animal trapped inside of him. Living in a crowded area, surrounded by other people raised his stress level considerably. Out here he could just be. No need to watch over his back. No need to watch over anybody’s back. Speaking of which… What the fuck was making that noise?

He had been just walking around, taking in his surroundings, getting familiar with the scenery once again. All the while he had been hearing small noise. He had put it out of his mind, blocking it, but now it was getting louder. What ever it was, he was approaching it. He rounded a small cliff, and came upon an unexpected sight.

Some animal, a fox most likely had dug a large hole to the snow. There was little blood around it. That sound came from the hole. Small chirping. Almost like a small bird. He crouched and peered over the cliff.
“That can’t be comfortable… Come on. Let’s get you someplace warm…” He muttered, lifting a small, bald mouse from the hole. Only one left from the litter.
“Must be a good year for you guys when that fox could afford to leave you behind…” He tugged off his other glove and dropped the small animal in there. It reminded him a little of her. Both in need of a hero.
“And you will most likely screw me over just like she did when you grow up a little…” Or not. From the smell of things it would be a miracle, true act of God if the small critter he picked up lived past coming night. It had been too cold, too long. But at least he could make it more comfortable.

It wasn’t eating. Just lay in a small box he had put it in, breathing fast and erratic. He picked it to his palm.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Mouse didn’t answer, just lay there, heart fluttering and eyes closed.
“And you’re fucking scared. Scared of me. I guess I would be, too.” Almost a lie. Never lie to a dying mouse.
“I am scared of myself. Scared that I screw things up. I wasn’t built to make a nest and have a gazillion babies and white picket fence. That’s not who I am. That’s Scott. That’s Ororo. That’s many people, but not me.”
“And what makes you think I want a fucking picket fence and pop out all those gazillion babies!”

“Jesus Christ, Marie! What the fuck are you doing here?” He checked the mouse fast. Nope. Still alive. He hadn’t crushed it. Good. His heart was working double time and he could only stare at the girl standing at his doorstep. How the hell he didn’t hear her coming?
“I just came to tell you it’s okay to go home. I won’t be bothering you anymore. I’m moving out,” she said and started to turn. He noticed she had snowshoes on. No wonder he hadn’t heard any kind of engine. She had walked from the main road. And she was leaving.
“Wait…” Door closed behind her. He put the mouse back in to the box and bolted after her.

“Marie! Wait! Oh, for fucking…” She turned to look, and she had to stifle a giggle. He lay face down on a snow bank, coughing and spluttering, trying to get up. Wind had blown scenery almost bare from the powdery substance, but it had gathered around his cabin, creating a trap more efficient than a quicksand.

She managed to pull him up and they stumbled back inside.
“Wait.” She untied her snowshoes and took a seat next to the fireplace while he went hunting for a dry shirt. When he returned to her he was carrying an envelope. She recognized it immediately. The same one she had left several weeks ago to his pillow. He handed it to her.
“This belongs to you.” She forced her hand to accept his offering. She really didn’t want it, but the tone of his voice told her leaving it wasn’t an option.
“It’s… It’s just the ring. Nothing more. I don’t have any use for it. I doubt anybody but you can use it. It’s… Oh, crap.” He looked around perplexed, and then his expression grew lighter.
“Coffee? Or are you hungry? I could make us something to eat.”

“Whom were you talking to?” She asked when they waited for the stew to cook up.
“Huh?”
“Earlier, when I came in, you were talking to somebody.”
“Oh…” He reached for a small cardboard box near the fireplace.
“Marie, Meet Mort.” To his amazement mouse was still alive. Not much better than earlier, but he had to give it some credit. It didn’t give up easily.
“It’s cute.”
“Don’t get too attached. He will probably die before morning. Found him nearly frozen solid from the snow few hours ago.”
“Poor thing… It’s so small. It shouldn’t die yet,” she sighed and petted it carefully. He noticed she had slipped the ring on.
“Better this way. Would have probably eaten me out of this house before the spring…” Marie swatted him to the shoulder.
“Don’t be mean!”
“You’ll take him and raise him if he survives. We’ll see after couple months if I’m still mean,” he grinned, watching her take the mouse to her hands. It looked bigger when she was holding it.

“What was this talk about you moving out from Xavier? Has something happened?” He asked when they sat at the table, steaming pot of stew between them. She skewered a piece of meat and chewed it through thoughtfully, trying to form a coherent answer in her mind. This was a conversation she hadn’t expected. She had planned just a quick visit to let him know it was safe to go home.
“Nothing’s happened. Nothing in particular. I just found out something,” she said, taking another bite.
“You’re great cook, by the way.”
“Had to learn to cook before we met the geek squad. Lived alone.” For a while they just ate.
“What did you find out?” He asked. And that was the tricky question. No matter how she would answer, he would think of the worst, instead of taking her answer for what it truly meant.
“It’s hard to explain. I’ll try, if you promise not to run again.”
“Run? Fuck, kid… My house, my rules. If I don’t like what you say, I’ll toss you out on your sweet little ass!” She had never seen him this relaxed as he was now. At the mansion, and on the road he had been tense, constantly on the edge. Now he was smiling and even cracking jokes. She took a deep breath.
“I would like that coffee, now, if possible…”
“That bad?” Logan asked, standing slowly up and walking to the cupboard. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey.
“Was going to save this for something important. I guess this is that something…”

“I can’t drink. I’m driving…” She tried to resist when he poured generous amount of golden liquid for both of them. He barked a gruff laughter.
“You’re not driving tonight. I’m not letting you out there. It’s already dark. Forest is thick. Drink up.” Spend a night in here with him? Suddenly she felt a tingle of fear gripping the bottom of her stomach. His nostrils flared.
“Right… How bad is it?” He growled, moving away from the table, turning his back at her.
“I… I didn’t say it was bad…” She squeaked and downed half of the whiskey he had poured for her.
“Talk to me then. No matter what it is, you’ll spend at least this night in here. I won’t throw you to the wolves.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep…” She whispered. He tilted his head.
“Tell me one promise I have broken.” She couldn’t. Simply because there was none. He had made her exactly two promises. To take care of her, and not to hurt her. He had taken care of her, and he had fled when it seemed to him that he was going to hurt her.

“I’m sorry. I had to look through your memories to find out where you had gone.” He nodded.
“I would have done the same. Xavier can’t use Cerebro to me. Something in my mutation makes me hard to read for him.” She hadn’t even thought about asking help from Professor.
“I really tried to avoid all the personal stuff. I tried.” Again he nodded.
“Kind of hard to find me without using that ‘personal stuff’, isn’t it?” She snorted a nervous laughter.
“You don’t leave a trail of breadcrumbs after you when you run…”
“Huh? Breadcrumbs?”
“Just another fairytale…” His face fell upon hearing her words.
“You read entirely too much, kid. Or concentrate to a wrong kind of literature. There’s a reason why they are called fairytales.”
“I know they are not real. But it’s so easy to draw comparisons to the real life from them. After all, they are nothing more but everyday life colored a little to amuse children and scare little older children.”
“So whiskey brings out the philosopher in you?” Logan asked, taking her now empty glass and filling it again to the brim. He had barely tasted from his own.
“Stop talking! You make me miss my point!” She huffed. He made a zipping gesture over his lips and just sat there, staring at her expectantly.

“For a while after the statue I wanted to see you as my knight. As my prince, who swooped in at the last possible moment and saved me. I had a crush size of a Himalaya to you back then…” She was blushing, but he could see from her posture she wasn’t going to stop now.
“Then things changed. You left to Alkali Lake. I started going out with Bobby. I kind of forgot you. You were still in my head. I knew you were out there somewhere, and kept hoping you would return safely, but I wasn’t missing you as badly as I did for the first couple weeks. I could actually sleep without seeing you maimed or dismembered, lying in some ditch, dead or dying… There wouldn’t happen to be more of this?” She asked raising her empty glass. He poured her more.
“When you came back, it all started again. Biggest reason we broke up with Bobby was my dreams. He couldn’t take the fact that I was screaming after you every night. Well, I wouldn’t have been pleased if he was moaning after Kitty when we slept together, but back then I was angry with him. He wouldn’t believe they weren’t that kind of dreams. He actually thought we were fucking in my dreams…” Logan shifted on his seat, looking little uncomfortable.
“Uh-huh… I told you to keep quiet…” She waggled a finger at him.

“I’m not sure at what point I started to love you. I’m not going to be as corny as to tell you I loved you from the beginning. Because that simply isn’t true. When I first saw you, you beat up couple of guys and turned to a Swiss army knife. Not to talk about how you nearly abandoned me to the side of the road.” Again he shifted and opened his mouth.
“If you don’t keep that mouth shut, this conversation is over, and I will walk back to my car. And give me that!” She snatched the half empty bottle from him. She knew she was going to regret this in the morning, but she was already regretting so many things it really didn’t matter.

“It must have happened at some point after me and Bobby broke up. Probably. And it really isn’t relevant. This whole fucking story I just told you isn’t relevant. Just wanted you to know. I love you. I really do. And I want you to go back home now. They need you. You need them…” She drank straight from the bottle. Her head started to droop. He reached for the bottle and took it from her loose fingers. Put it on the table and caught her before she fell face first to the floor.

She nearly woke up, swam between sleep and dream for a while. Something warm was wrapped around her. A quilt. Bed felt funny. Hard planes, weird angles. Mattress was slowly moving underneath her. She realized she was lying on top of Logan, head propped on his chest, legs resting between his. He was sleeping too, snoring slightly. Sleep swept her under again.

She woke up alone. There was a note next to her on the bed. “Took Mort out. Be back soon.” For a moment absurd image of Logan holding a tiny leash, walking after small, bald mouse flashed in her mind. She didn’t giggle. Logan had told her mouse would most likely die before morning. Instead of giggle almost sad sigh escaped from her lips. She yawned and stretched. Tried to remember did she ever finish her big speech. Groaned.
“Fuck!” She had finished it. And confessed her feelings again. And Logan hadn’t answered. Door opened and Logan walked in, carrying her duffel.
“Found your car. Here. If you want to wash up, bathroom’s over there. No shower, but there should be some hot water. Tank is right next to the fireplace,” he said, pointing at the door she hadn’t noticed before. She took the duffel from him and took out fresh clothes and her wash bag.
“You wouldn’t happen to have any painkillers?” She asked, holding her head.
“Nope. But I’ll make you breakfast. It’ll help a little.”

Bathroom was actually a small corner hidden behind the fireplace. There was working toilet seat and a sink. Next to the sink was a bucket. On the opposite was a faucet. She put the bucket under it and turned the handle. Warm, nearly hot water flowed to the bucket.

“Why did you come? What made you seek me out?” He looked calm. Sipping his coffee, leaning his back against the wall behind him, legs swung over the bench he was sitting on. But she could tell he was uncomfortable. He was never this collected otherwise.
“I thought I told you already. I came to tell you it’s safe to go home.”
“And…”
“No other reason. Well, wanted to see you one last time. To say good bye.”
“I won’t do it. Neither will you.”

“I take it you’re not going back to Xavier’s?” She asked, strapping on her snowshoes. Soon after their talk Logan had retreated to silence, only grunting short and gruff answers if she asked something. No reason to stay any longer.
“I’m not going. You are. You’re no fit to stay on your own. You need other people around you.”
“Not that kind of people, thank you very much…” She muttered and walked out.

It took him five whole minutes to catch her meaning. Couple minutes more to throw on a jacket and a pair of snowshoes. Four to reach her.

She screamed when heavy hand landed on her shoulder and spun her around. She nearly tripped over.
“You’re going back to Xavier even if I have to haul your ass there by myself!” Logan growled, towering over her, hands grasping her shoulders painfully.
“I’m not welcome there anymore. At least not according to Ororo. Other students and even some of the teachers are afraid of me.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? What the hell is going on?” Logan crouched in front of her, still furious, but she could tell his anger wasn’t directed at her anymore.
“They blame me. I’m the heartless bitch that drove you away just because I couldn’t have you between my thighs.”
“Heartless? You? Right. I’m not going to lie. I left because of you. You didn’t want me to hang around anymore. But that is none of their business. That’s between us. Come on, I’ll pack up little something,” Logan said, standing up and tugging her after him, back towards the cabin.
“Pack up?”
“We are going back there. Don’t worry, I won’t stay, I’ll just have a word with those fuckers, and then I’m out of your hair.”

It was late. Full moon loomed above the mansion when Logan parked the car to the driveway. For a moment they just sat on their seats, staring at the massive front entrance.
“Grab your stuff. We’ll go in round the back.” She took her bag and followed him silently to the darkened garden. This was the way he usually left and returned. Through the cozy kitchen. Never through the cold grand entry hall.

Door was small. It looked almost tiny when he stood in front of it; shoulders wide, chin up.
“Someone’s in there. Probably Scott,” he informed her. She nodded. With Scott she didn’t have any problems. She hadn’t even seen him in weeks. After Jean’s death he had become withdrawn. Much like Logan. He could just disappear for days; even weeks and nobody knew where he went or what he did.

“Hi.” Scott sat there, twirling a spoon in something that smelled suspiciously of Ororo’s herbal tea, dressed to his pajamas.
“Hi. How’s it going?” Logan asked. Scott shrugged his shoulders.
“Apparently not all is well since you’re back… Marie? What were you doing outside at this hour?” She shoved her duffel quickly to Logan who took it.
“I was just… Uh…”
“She came to let me in,” Logan rescued her, steering her out from the kitchen before Scott could continue his interrogation.
“I was away fucking two whole weeks and he never noticed!” She hissed, loud enough for Logan to hear.
“Yeah. Don’t worry about that. He will get better eventually. I’m more worried about how we will get past Professor. He’s a light sleeper,” Logan whispered.
“Have to shook them up a bit. There’s no use yelling at them if they are prepared for it,” he explained when he saw her questioning gaze.

They managed to sneak in to her room without tripping any alarms on their way, not the physical, not Professor’s mental ones. When door closed behind them, she let out a relieved sigh. Safe. There were no monitors, no telekinetic tendrils in dorm rooms.
“Do you mind if I sleep in here?” Logan asked when she started to unpack her bag.
“I don’t mind. But where? My bed is so small…” He lay down on the floor, pulling his knapsack under his head.
“This’ll do.” When she finished unpacking he was already sleeping, curled to his side, eyelids fluttering slightly. She took out a blanket from the closet and draped it over him. His eyes flickered partly open, and he tugged the blanket around him tighter, inhaling deeply.
“Nice… Can I keep this when I leave?”
“Need a blankie?”
“Something like that…” He muttered, eyes closing again.

She changed to her sleeping gown in the bathroom. She usually slept nude now that she had her own room, but that would be out of the question tonight. She was sure that the man in Logan would appreciate her body, but Logan himself would be uncomfortable at least if she traipsed to her bed buck-naked.

“Good night, my knight…” She whispered silently, diving under the covers. Low chuckle rose from the floor.
“Sweet dreams, princess…”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean you to hear that,” she whispered.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just… Let’s just sleep, okay?”
“Good night, Logan.”
“Good night, princess Marie…” warm feeling washed over her upon hearing those words. He wasn’t angry for her little slip up. She let dreams take over.

Crown was heavy on her head. Though blacksmith had received strict instructions to make it from the purest silver, and thin as air, it felt like a thick chunk of lead, nearly crushing her skull under its weight. Luckily reception would soon be over and she could go to her chambers and take it off. She looked to her right. Her father sat there, thick golden band adorning his bald head. He had leaned to whisper something to the one of the guards. They were both laughing to fool’s antics. The fool had covered his eyes with a bright red cloth, and was stumbling back and forth, seemingly trying to get over obstacles on his way to the huge table in the center of the room. He was bumping against people, stumbling over his own feet, and entirely too long cape he had draped over his shoulders.

She stifled a yawn that threatened to escape. Her gaze traveled over the scene in front of her, stopping to the furthest corner near the huge fireplace. To the table reserved for her father’s knights. Only one of them had honored his invitation. Gruff looking, silent man, face covered to shadows. He sat there alone, slightly hunched over, leaning his jaw to his knuckles. She could see his eyes flashing briefly every time he shifted a bit. Dog of War, she had heard other knights calling him in several occasions. Even her father didn’t know his real name. He had wandered to the court over a year ago. He kept to himself, but defended the kingdom when it was necessary. Didn’t ask salary. Just a roof over his head, and food. His clothes were worn, but clean. Armor had dents and scrapes on it. He wielded odd-looking weapon, a sword that looked almost like a rake, with three blades jutting from the handle side by side.

Sudden noise coming from the crowd caught her attention. Something was happening on the dance floor. People were screaming and stumbling away from there in great haste. There was a bright red lump of silk on the floor. Tendrils of black smoke rose from it. The fool. Something was happening to him. He was growing. Wide, black wings spreading out from his back, whole body twisting and turning, shaping again from inside out.

When it was over, great hall was nearly empty. Guards had whisked her father to safety. Guests had fled. She was alone with a dragon. A black dragon with blazing red eyes. It inhaled deeply, and she could see almost blue flames flickering in its huge nostrils. It was going to breathe out soon. She would turn in to a torch. There was no way she could avoid the blast. Suddenly a hand covered with metal mesh grabbed her wrist and flung her out of the way, just before fiery blast scorched the place she had been standing.
“Run!” She was pushed towards the doors that lead to safety. She reached them, and turned to look.

He stood between her and the dragon, three bladed sword drawn, ready to strike. He turned his head slightly.
“Go!” That small movement was enough for dragon to launch a bolt of blue fire. It hit him squarely to his chest and he went down. Dragon stomped over him, and she could hear sickening crunches when his armor gave up. She was screaming. She was alone, and nobody heard her screams. Nobody came. Dragon smirked and leaned closer. Hot breath fanned her hair.
“Factum est. Dies irae. Memento mori.“

Hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her out from the dream. She came back to her senses, struggling and flailing, still screaming. Warm palm clasped over her mouth and she saw Logan’s face hovering above hers.
“Oh, my God…” She gasped, tears streaming to her face and she clung to him desperately. It had been just a dream. Stupid dream, and he was alive and well.
“Hush. We don’t want to wake up the whole mansion,” Logan said, sitting on the bed and pulling her on his lap. She had stopped screaming, but she couldn’t breathe. Was this how people with asthma felt? Throat all clogged up, lungs practically paralyzed? Logan turned her over, pulling her back against his body. His hands found a spot just under her ribcage. Strong fingers poking and prodding, teasing the muscle under them.
“Relax. Breathe. It was just a nightmare.” Just a nightmare. Yet it had felt so real, like she really was there. She had even been able to smell his charred remains, and the scent of something acrid when dragon spoke to her.

“Go back to sleep now. I’m right here. You have nothing to worry about,” Logan whispered when she started to relax and her head started to droop. She clung to his arms.
“I don’t want to sleep alone. Could you…”

He lay down to her bed and folded his massive frame around her carefully, almost as if he were afraid she would break down if he held on too tight. His other hand tucked under her head, other holding her against him from the waist. Face buried to her hair. He was hardly breathing.
“Just hold me…” She whispered. He let out a shaky breath and hauled her tighter against him.

It would be hard to leave after this. But he knew he couldn’t stay. Now she needed him, but how long until she got bored again? Until she decided she had gotten enough? He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. It was a bad idea to memorize it. It would make forgetting her even harder, but he couldn’t help it. She smelt warm. Little afraid, but relieved. What on earth had made her scream like that? At first he had thought there was something really wrong. Then he had seen her, covers nearly strangling her, sweat beading to her forehead, eyes flickering under closed lids. A dream? Must have been a hell of a nightmare. He burrowed deeper under covers and pressed a light kiss to the back of her neck before following her to the slumber.

When she woke up it was still dark. Logan wasn’t in bed anymore. He was sitting on a windowsill; window cracked slightly open, smoking a cigar.
“Good morning,” he greeted her without turning his head.
“Is it morning already?” She asked puzzled, getting up and walking to him.
“Should be. Nearly ten o’clock.”
“Why is it so dark outside?”
“Fuck if I knew. Something’s going on, and I don’t like it.” He was still looking out. She leaned her forehead to the cool glass.
“Ororo?” She asked, noting the thick, dark clouds covering the sky. Logan shook his head.
“No. This is something different. There’s no ozone in the air. No signs of thunder. Just those clouds.” Knock on the door made them both jump a bit.
“Logan? Marie?” Professor’s voice.

“We have a problem. Scott. Something has happened to him.”
“No shit, Sherlock. His wife died over a year ago, and since then he has been stewing in his own shit, mulling it over again and again. I’d say something really has happened to him. He finally snapped,” Logan snorted, taking a seat from the window again after he let the professor in.
“Scott is doing that?” Marie asked, pointing outside.
“Not only that. Everybody except us is missing. I haven’t been able to locate anybody. I’m not sure if he’s alone. I can sense a strong presence wrapped around his mind. Like something was using him. Acting through his mind.”
“Okay. Where is he?” Logan asked, putting out his cigar.
“I told you he’s gone missing. He’s somewhere in here, either in this very house, or out in gardens. I can’t locate him,” Professor explained.

“You’ll stay here. I’ll go with the Professor. We have to find Scott and stop what ever it is he’s planning to do,” Logan said, pulling on his jacket.
“And take this off. Just in case,” he said, tapping at the ring in her finger. She pulled it off little hesitantly.
“Be careful.”
“You know me,” Logan smirked. Then he was gone. Gone with the professor, and she was alone.
“I know you. That’s why I worry…”

They had swept the mansion from the roof to the basement. It hadn’t taken from them half an hour. With his senses, and professor’s telepathy it was easy to discover even the smallest nooks and crannies, every possible hideout in the enormous building. And there had been no sign of him. Just a constant feel of dread, which made both men edgy and agitated. Surprisingly the professor even more so than Logan.

“He’s somewhere outside. Must be. We checked everything.”
“If I could only get past his shields… This is so goddamned frustrating! Like I was fighting another telepath!”
“Calm down, Chuck, before you have a stroke…” Suddenly Professor grabbed his arm.
“Jean! She’s the only one strong enough to do something like this!”
“Have you gone nuts? She’s dead, remember?” Logan asked. Xavier shot him an angry glance and started pushing his chair towards the grand entry hall.
“I wouldn’t bet on it. Scott complained about hearing voices few months ago. I thought nothing of it. He hasn’t been sleeping, and sleep deprivation can cause hallucinations. What if it was some part of Jean? What if she somehow survived?”
“And decided to drive crazy the man she loved?” Logan asked, wrinkling his brows in confusion.
“If it’s Jean we’re dealing with, she has no malicious intentions. She’s probably just trying to return home to Scott,” Professor said, stopping in front of thick oak wood doors that lead to the front yard. Like in slow motion picture Logan could see him reaching the doorknob. Saw brief flicker of flame from under the door. Then everything exploded. Something crashed through the doors, something needy and frustrated, shrugging away debris, pushing unconscious professor out of its way. It grabbed Logan and flung him against the wall, knocking him unconscious. Whiff of sulphur and hot electricity revealed attackers identity to him before he fell. Scott.

“… Smell’s wrong. All wrong…” He woke up to the sound of his own voice. His head was still spinning from the jarring collision with the wall, but he managed to stumble up. Scott. Fucking Scott had thrown him like a rag doll! His eyes zeroed to scorched footprints on the floor, while his other senses confirmed professor was all right, just a little shaken and still unconscious. He crouched. Prints were still warm under his touch. He followed them with his gaze. Over the hall, past entries to the kitchen and classrooms. Up the stairs…
“Oh, fuck!” Marie. And she was alone.

“Marie!” He took the stairs with two steps in one stride, all the while calling her name, even though he knew he was late. Trail was warm, but he couldn’t detect her presence anywhere near anymore. Other scent wafted from her room instead. He barged in and grabbed Scott who lay panting on the floor, barely conscious.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” He pulled Scott up from the lapels of his bathrobe, scanning his face. In serious need of shaving and a bath. Hair tousled. And wearing only a flimsy bathrobe. Same attire he had worn the night before.
“Scott? Where is she?” He asked with a gentler tone, helping him to sit on her bed. Scott leaned forward, hands grasping his wrists.
“I think I’m going to be sick…” was his only warning before fearless leader turned green from his face and threw up on him.
“Christ!” Acrid stench of it made bile rise to his throat. He dragged Scott to the bathroom and plunked him on the floor in front of the toilet seat.
“If you have to do it again, do it in there,” he instructed and tore off his soiled clothes. Rinsed his chest and legs quickly.

He was pulling on fresh pair of jeans when Scott crawled from the bathroom on his hands and knees.
“She took it from me… She took it out… It’s inside of her now…”
“What is it?” Logan asked. Scott grinned. Twisted smile of a lunatic.
“A dragon. A fucking dragon!” Right. Logan patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. Even professor’s idea of Jean rising from the grave sounded more believable.
“She called it and it came. At first it thought it could get her through me. Then it got impatient and chose more direct approach. Made me attack her so she would absorb it.”
“Okay, Scott… That’s nice to hear. Come on get up… Get up now. We’ll go and see if the Professor is awake already. Maybe he can shed some light in to this.” He helped Scott up and threw on a shirt.
“Where’s the belt?” Bathrobe hung open. Scott was practically flashing for him.
“Oh, there it is…” It had fallen off when Scott was crouching in front of the toilet seat. Logan retrieved it and gave it to Scott. Man just stared at it perplexed. Logan sighed and took it from him, rearranging the robe to more appropriate manner and tied it.

Xavier was waking up when they walked down the stairs. His gaze clouded over briefly when he saw Scott.
“A dragon? But that’s… That’s impossible. There are no such creatures…” Logan crouched and lifted him up, carrying him to his chair that had miraculously gone through whole ordeal unscathed.
“That’s what he told me. That Marie called it and it came. And now it’s inside of her. Even a ghost of Jean would be more believable than this.”
“It is a dragon. At first I thought it was Jean. That’s how it got in to me. One night I was sitting in the kitchen when I heard her voice. She was calling me. Asking for help. I took her in. Only much later it revealed its true nature. And then it was already too late. It was controlling me,” Scott said.
“Let’s assume you’re telling the truth. There’s a dragon, and it’s chosen Marie. What does it want from her?” Logan asked.
“It needs a host. Without a body it can’t stay out here for long. In our world its just a figment of imagination,” Scott explained.
“In our world? What do you mean? Where did it come from?” Scott shrugged his shoulders, but Professor cleared his throat.
“Most likely from her dreams. She has been projecting quite loudly for the past year, and I have seen some of her dreams. For some reason she has been dreaming about princes and princesses.” Logan huffed and kicked a piece of charred wood.
“How do we get that thing out of her?” He asked.
“First we have to find her.”
“I’m not going through that hide and seek –crap again! That’s what got us in to this mess in the first place! Can’t you do something? Use that hocus pocus of yours and force that lizard out of her?” Logan was pacing back and forth restless.
“I could try something… I have never done it before, and I’m not sure if it will work, but…”

Logan lay on a gurney, his comatose body hooked to machines that monitored his vital signs. Professor Xavier leaned back and let out a relieved sigh.
“I think it worked. He should be on his way.” He turned to look at Scott, who hovered next to the gurney, lost look on his face.
“And we have a job to do, too. We have to find our staff and students. Come on, you can help me.”

He rode over barren, scorched landscape. He could see ramshackle huts in the distance, and something that reminded distantly a castle looming behind them on a steep hill. He shivered. Not exactly a fairytale. He knew what he would find when he got there.
“Beowulf. Fucking Beowulf. If we get out of this, she won’t be seeing any movies rated above PG…” Horse under him was protesting loudly when he spurred it on, adjusting weaponry strapped on him. Two crossbows and a selection of bolts to them, small knives and heavy nasty looking sword that hung on his back in its sheath. He checked quickly if he still had his more personal weapons. Claws slid from his knuckles and he let out a relieved sigh. They hurt like a bitch, but right now that feeling was reassuring.

Horse was practically foaming, sweating and panting harshly when they arrived to the village. In the middle of the town square stood a guillotine. A woman was strapped on to it. She was writhing and screaming when a man wearing a skull mask was preparing to release rusty cleaver that hung above her stomach. Logan grimaced and turned his back. He knew what was going to happen. He knew what he was supposed to do. But did he have the time? Again woman screamed.
“Fuck her. I have more important things to do than get beaten by a bunch of leather clad yahoos,” he grunted and steered his horse to a road that led away from the village.

He could smell foul stench of decay and betrayal when he approached the outpost. It was nearly strong enough to mask the scent of burning gasoline. Flare after flare burst from complex looking machinery mounted on top of a tower on the left side of the outpost.

Gaining an entry to the heavily guarded outpost was relatively easy. He was an armed man, and judging from the shape of the occupants they really could use all the help they got.

Now he was pacing restlessly back and forth in a room they had given to him. He had expected something along the lines of the movie since Marie had an excellent memory. So far almost everything had gone exactly as he expected, but he had noticed several small things that were amiss. In the movie the leader of the outpost had been hardened old man, tired, but willing to fight. In here he was crippled, much like Xavier. His second in command had been almost exact replica of Scott. From the outside the outpost looked like the one in the movie, but interior was more like Xavier’s. Sure, halls and corridors were darkened and place looked a little worse to wear, but he was pretty sure it hadn’t been this neatly organized when he saw the film.

Now only question that remained was that which part had Marie cast herself. In the movie there had been only three women. One had been brutally slaughtered during the first ten minutes. One was the daughter of Hrothgar, leader of the outpost. Third one was the mother of the monster called Grendel that terrorized these people at night. He could only hope Marie had made the right decision. He already knew she hadn’t been in the village outside, so that left only two options.
“Fuck. What the hell am I going to do if…” Door to his room opened abruptly, woman walked in, and Logan nearly wept. She wasn’t Marie.

“I know why you are here,” busty brunette with facial features much like Jean’s said. He didn’t answer. His mind was still occupied with a thought of Marie being the Grendel’s mother.
“Nivri’s family sent you. How much they are paying for you?” Woman asked. Logan sighed.
“I didn’t come because you killed your no-good bastard of a husband. I didn’t come to slay the monster that haunts this place. I came for a girl.” It was risky, but maybe he could speed up things if he was honest. Marie had already changed things. Maybe he could change them some more.
“What girl?” Woman asked, tilting her head. Her hand went to a dagger that was strapped on her hip.
“Not one of yours. The one that gave birth to the monster.”
“Gave birth to it? Does that thing have a mother?” Woman asked surprised.
“Yes. And she is important to me. I came to take her home.” Woman seemed to think about it for a moment. Then she nodded.
“Come on. We’ll go and talk to my father.”
“No!” He exclaimed hastily. If basic plot in here were borrowed from the movie, Hrothgar wouldn’t be pleased to hear that somebody else knew about the lady that haunted his dreams.

They were sitting in front of the fireplace. Woman had introduced herself, he had told her his “real” name. Not Beowulf, but Wolverine. She was quite open-minded when it came to supernatural things. Didn’t even bat an eyelash when he told her the whole story. Of course he had skirted past the fact that all this around them was fiction.
“In our world she isn’t evil. She’s just a girl. I don’t know what she’s like in here. I know Grendel is inherently evil, and that he got that trait from his mother, but… Rogue can’t be evil!” He huffed.
“If she’s the mother, who is the father? Who sired that beast?” Kyra asked.
“That’s the tricky part. In our world she’s the mother, and the father. Grendel is something she created in her mind, a dragon. In here… I have no idea how things started.” It was a lie, but he wasn’t going to alienate his only ally by telling her that his girl was a hoe that slept with his father every night.

“It’s getting dark. It’ll come out soon…” She shivered and leaned little closer to the fireplace. Grendel. Logan knew that back home there were not many things that could resist him, but he didn’t have any experience about Nordic half-gods.
“All I have to do is to hurt him, and she will come after me,” he said, hoping that Marie would be as protective over the creature as the woman in the movie had been.
“How do you know so much about these things?” Kyra asked.
“In our world there are no such things as dragons or monsters. But we have stories about them. All I know I have learned from those stories. I just hope things work in here like in those stories.”
“Stories? Make-belief?” Kyra asked.
“Yeah. Some of them are for children and we call them fairytales. Some of them are for adults, and they have many different names. Folklore, poems, scripts…” And he really wasn’t the right person to explain these concepts to her. Xavier was more knowledgeable in that area.
“In here we don’t need those,” Kyra muttered adjusting her dagger.
“No. You’ve got the real thing…” Logan hissed and bolted up when horrified scream echoed from somewhere close.

It was carnage. Five guards and Hrothgar’s Weapons Master lay on a shredded heap of dismembered limbs and organs on plain sight, in the middle of the courtyard. Something hazy and dark was sitting atop of that pile, chewing through warm, still steaming chunks of flesh. Hrothgar himself was hovering next to it, brandishing a sword that would have made even He-Man green from envy. He tried to slice and poke the monster, but sword couldn’t penetrate bony skin. Grendel just swatted the sword away and continued its horrendous meal.
“Fight me!” Hrothgar was shouting. Grendel turned its back on him.

“What are you doing?” Kyra asked when Logan started putting down his weapons.
“I don’t need these. I have a plan…” He said, cracking his neck. As soon as he got rid of the restrictive leather straps that held weapons on him he felt better. Grendel was still sitting there, back turned.
“Wait! You can’t…” Kyra tried to grab his hand but he was already running towards the monster. It was tensing. Fucker knew he was coming. He let his claws slide out and took a swipe towards Grendel’s head. He missed by mere inches when it crouched and turned to face him.
“Whoa, ugly!”

This close the shadowy cloud didn’t shield it from his gaze. Black, glistening, leathery skin that was striped with purplish blotches and gauges. Purple eyes staring from a face that held entirely too wide jaws with entirely too many sharp and pointy teeth. It growled and sunk those teeth to his throat, cutting his airway efficiently. Its front paws clawed deep furrows to his shoulders and chest. He tried to stab it, but bone scales and spikes on its skin deflected his claws.

Victurus te saluto. Old and dry voice echoed inside of his head. He wasn’t so fluent in Latin, but he got the message. Then Grendel was gone, he was on the ground on his hands and knees, trying to suck in air, force it through his swollen throat. Wounds on his chest and throat were still bleeding freely. He could smell acrid stench coming from them. Some kind of poison, fighting his mutation. He fell face down to the cold cobblestones when Kyra’s hand landed on his shoulder, cursing his own stupidity. Xavier had warned him about this. There was no telling if he could get seriously hurt in here.

“What are you?” She was asking it over and over again while changing the bandages covering his chest and hands. He couldn’t tell. Couldn’t make his body obey long enough to form a coherent sentence. All that came out were pitiful whimpers and groans. He could feel toxins working inside of him, eating his flesh. Everything felt swollen. Soiled. Contaminated. Green, black and brown. Something was gathering, pooling behind his eyes. It felt sticky, greenish yellow, filling his nostrils with a stench of rot. He wanted to puncture something to get rid of it. Flesh on top of his bones was itching and burning.

“What are you?” He couldn’t answer. And all the while Grendel was there with him.
Causa mortis, it hissed. He was gagging, nearly choking to his own bile.
Corpus vile. Evil snicker beside his ear.
Caro putridas es. Yes. Definitely. He was wracking his feverish brain to come up something to throw back.
“Ascendo tuum! Resurgam!” He managed to croak. He could taste blood in his mouth when his lips split under pressure.
Tanta stultitia mortalium est… Aut vincere, aut mori. For that he couldn’t find any suitable remark.
“Just go… Leave her alone…”
Quis separabit?
“I will fucking separabit your head from your shoulders once I get back on my feet again…” speaking started to really hurt. He could feel blood and puss dribbling from the corners of his mouth. Last amused snicker and Grendel was gone. He opened his burning eyes. He was alone in the room. Kyra had been with him earlier, but she was gone now. He let his eyes close again. He should sleep. Sleeping was good.

When he woke up next time he was feeling relatively better. He was shivering and sweating as a racehorse, but at least his body didn’t feel and smell as a piece of meat left to the sun for too long. Kyra was sitting on a windowsill, wrapped up to a quilt, and she appeared to be sleeping. He could smell fresh water in the room. There was a washing basin on top of a dresser on the opposite wall of his bed. He stood up slowly, knees still little wobbly and went to clean off blood and puke he was covered with. Short search yielded him his clothes, now washed and sewn back together. He had to sit down to get his pants on. He was buttoning up his shirt when he heard Kyra waking up.

“What are you?” She asked again. He wasn’t sure how to answer.
“I’m a… I’m a mutant.” She scrunched her forehead and walked to him, parting the lapels of his shirt. There was not a mark on his skin, and just twenty-four hours ago she had seen Grendel practically tearing his intestines out.
“What is a mutant?”
“More evolved human. I’m like you for the most parts, but I heal very fast, and I have enhanced senses.” She took his hand and brushed her fingers over his knuckles, flicking a questioning glance to his eyes.
“Yeah. Those too. They were put in to me. But I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I guess we all have our little secrets,” Kyra whispered, letting his hand fall. Knock on the door made her jump.

“Kyra, I just came to see if…” Hrothgar’s voice faded away when his eyes took in the scene in front of him. Man he thought was already dead, stood there, little worse to wear, but very much alive.
“His wounds were not as bad as they seemed to be. I stitched them up,” Kyra lied and stepped in front of Logan before Hrothgar could notice there really were no wounds left. Logan buttoned up his shirt and took his coat, feigning to be in some amount of pain.
“Well… That’s good to hear… I guess. I came to ask if you were hungry. Dinner is served down the hall.”
“I could eat,” Logan said, draping his arm over Kyra’s shoulders.
“Help me up a bit?”

He didn’t have to pretend the weakness on their way to the dining hall. He was still slowly recovering, and fever was riding in his veins, making his head dizzy and knees buckle.
“I have to apologize poor quality of our servings. We have some stockpiles still left, but it’s hard to get fresh food through the siege,” Hrothgar said when they sat down among other defenders of the outpost.
“Seen worse. Eaten worse,” Logan said, taking a mouthful of warm, clear broth.
“I’m sure you have…” Hrothgar said, eyes narrowing, but to Logan’s great relief he turned his attention to the tall man sitting on his right side and started hushed conversation with him. Roland. Man had been casting him dirty glances from the moment he had limped in with Kyra and Hrothgar.

He was outside, smoking a cigar when Roland came to him. He sat next to Logan, lighting a cigar of his own.
“Leave her alone.”
“Kyra? I have no interest in her,” Logan said truthfully. Sure, she was a good-looking woman, but he had completely another kind of lady in his mind.
“Good. Wouldn’t want to kill you,” Roland said. There was not a hint of playfulness or bragging in his tone. He was stating a fact.
“I might need her help, but I have no intentions to take her away from you.” Roland snorted.
“Take her away from me? You can’t take something I don’t have. She’s not mine.” Logan resisted the urge to pat his back.
“I know how you feel. It’s the same with me and this girl I know. No matter what I do, I seem to fuck up every time.” Roland nodded, and they sat again in silence, watching the cigar smoke forming patterns in the air.

Sudden movement in the darkness alerted them. Roland sprung to his feet, drawing his sword. Logan stayed behind him.
Primus inter pares… Whisper floated from everywhere around them. Voice saturated the air.
“What the hell is this?” Roland asked, twirling around, trying to find the whisperer.
“Don’t bother. You won’t find it. It’ll find you when it’s the right time,” Logan said, threw away the cigar and left. He could hear Roland following him. Man was scared to shitless.

“Fuck.” They took in the carnage around them. Women and children. Puddles of blood and other bodily fluids.
“This was supposed to be safe…” Roland stuttered. As it became apparent that Grendel was getting greedy, attacking in broad daylight they had gathered most vulnerable habitants to the safest place of the outpost. A bunker they called the sanctuary. Grendel had found a way in, narrow window at the edge of the rooftop.

“Well you thought wrong,” Hrothgar said with a clipped tone. Logan saw how Roland’s wide shoulders slumped, and he wanted to hurt the old geezer. At least Roland had tried. What was Hrothgar doing? Other than fucking the mother of the beast on nightly basis? Granted, he had tried to put up a fight at the courtyard earlier, but it had been halfhearted attempt, more to soothe his bruised ego than anything else. He turned to leave when Roland snagged his hand.
“Where are you going?”
“I know where it went. I’m going to finish this now.” He had gotten Grendel’s scent when he had fought it earlier, and now he had a fresh trail to follow.
He had a strong feeling it wasn’t as invincible as it looked. Sure, its skin was hard enough to ward off even adamantium, but what about its joints? Bone was a rigid material; joints couldn’t be as well protected as the rest of Grendel’s body.
“I’m coming with you,” Roland said. Logan shook his head.
“You have to stay here. If I don’t make it, somebody has to protect rest of these sheep.” And it was enough that Kyra knew about his claws and mutation. Her father had been so devastated about Grendel’s lack of interest in him, that he hadn’t noticed how he had attacked the beast, and there had been no other witnesses.

He stood in shallow water in the crypt of the outpost. He could sense Grendel, as it was moving stealthily around him. Putrid stench of it, coldness radiating from it. Darkness so thick it nearly suffocated him. Now that he knew what it was capable of, he wasn’t going to be as careless as he had been before. Now he had a plan. So, when Grendel charged towards him, he let it come and throw him.

For several long seconds he was airborne and then he collided against stone pillar and fell to the water. Grendel grabbed the back of his shirt and threw him again. This time he managed to avoid collision and fell face first, nearly choking to a mouthful of foul liquid sloshing everywhere around him.

Aqua vitae… Grendel chuckled.
“Cogito sumerum potum alterum…” He was coughing and spluttering. Grendel was dangling him in front of its ugly face, looking all too pleased for himself.
Quiusvis hominis est errare. Nullius nisi inspientis in errore perseverare.
“Ante mortem victurus te saluto. Divide et impera!“ He growled, unsheathing his claws and sunk them deep to Grendel’s armpit, severing its right arm with one, neat slice. Grendel screamed and dropped him. He curled around himself and rolled away from the beast.

He got on his feet and twirled around, expecting to see a fallen carcass lying in front of him. Instead Grendel stood on its ground, clutching the stub that was left from its hand.
“Antiquis temporibus, nati tibi similes in rupibus ventosissimis exponebantur ad necem. Cur etiam hic nes?” He asked.
Probatum est. Primus inter pares. Non omnis moriar…

Scenery around Logan started to shift. He realized he was waking up. He tried to stay under. Tried desperately to grasp a hold of Grendel, stone pillars around him, anything, but it was futile. They slipped through his fingers like water, and he came back to his senses in a med lab, coughing and gagging away offending plastic tube of the ventilator from his throat.
“No!” He bolted up with a furious growl, dislodging several sensors that were attacked to him and scaring their current doctor Henry McCoy in the process.
“Chuck, I know you can hear me! You have to put me under again! I was so fucking close…”
Calm down, Logan. We’ll have to discuss about something first, Xavier’s voice echoed inside of his head.
“What’s there to discuss? I was just about to kill off that fucking dragon!”
Look to your right. What ever you were fighting against, it had some unexpected side effects.

His head turned hesitantly. What he saw made him sick of himself. Marie lie on a gurney next to his, whole body covered in bruises and deep gashes. Three gauges adorned her left shoulder, wide and deep enough to severe her hand if he had struck only few centimeters lower.
“Kid?” She didn’t move. She was pale and her eyes were sunken deep in her skull. She looked like death warmed over. Without the faint movement of her chest and silent flutter of her heart he would have thought she was dead already.

“We found her from the pool house. She was stuffed inside of a locker. Scott had to blast it open. Something, most likely the dragon in her had made her crawl in there and melt the hinges from the door.”
“How long was I in there?” He asked, pointing at Marie’s head. Xavier checked his watch.
“Nearly ten hours. I hope you understand I had to bring you out before you… Before that thing managed to transfer irreparable amount of damage to her.” Logan took her hand to his. It was cold and limp under his touch. He could hear Hank shuffling around in the background, putting away equipment that had been used to monitor his vital signs.
“Where did you find the others?” He asked.
“They just appeared almost immediately after I put you under. It was like the dragon was only taunting us. This is the most puzzling situation… What would it gain if she died?” Xavier muttered, rubbing his temples. Logan’s eyes flashed.
“She has to die so that it can take over her body completely. It can’t kill her because it doesn’t have physical form. Instead it tried to make me kill her.” He brought her hand to his mouth and breathed warmth on it.

“You were in her conscious mind. I have a feeling that the beast we are seeking has burrowed deeper, in to her subconscious,” Xavier said from his seat next to the gurney she laid.
“Subconscious? And how the fuck are we going to purge it out from there?” Xavier sighed and rubbed his face. Logan hadn’t seen him this tired ever before.
“I have no idea. And right now I’m too tired to think straight. We are all exhausted. Henry is keeping her sedated, and we are going to get some sleep before we try anything new.”
“We can’t leave her alone with that monster!” Logan growled, rounding her bed. Warning glare from Xavier stopped him to lay his hand on him.
“Then stay here. I’m going to get some sleep. I’m in no shape to help anybody. I would most likely only hurt one of us if I try anything right now.”

“Hi. I hope you don’t mind me sticking around. Things are getting better. Though I haven’t seen Ororo, Xavier and Hank seem to be genuinely concerned about you.” His voice, a mere whisper now, sounded too loud in the silence of the med lab. He leaned to the gurney, holding her hand again, fingers fiddling with the ring on her finger. Somebody, most likely Hank had put it on so that they could safely treat her wounds. Wounds that he had inflicted.
“I’m sorry about this…” He whispered, trailing a long, shallow scrape that extended from her clavicle to her navel with his finger. Fact that she was nude hadn’t gone unnoticed from him earlier, but the state of her vanquished all inappropriate thoughts. Suddenly he blinked.
“Kid? I’m coming in.”

Ten minutes later Hank found Logan dead from the floor, still clutching the suppression ring on his rigid hand. Marie’s wounds were healed.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me…” He was standing in a large, empty space. Everything was light grey. Like he was walking around in a fog. Except that he could see. And yet he couldn’t see a thing. It was so empty it hurt his eyes. This was supposed to be her inner self. The core. Everything that made Marie. And it was fucking empty! He turned around, peering towards the direction he thought he had come from. Same painful grey emptiness greeted him in that direction. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t warm. It just was. And wasn’t.
“Marie!” There was not even an echo when he called her. Voice just faded after it had traveled far enough.
“Marie!” He sat down. He wasn’t exactly sure if it could be classified as sitting down, when there was nothing under his ass, but he was going to think about this for a while. Now that he had the time.

It had taken him ten hours to get close enough to the dragon masked as Grendel to try to kill it. It would take Hank at least couple hours to resuscitate him. With a little luck he would stay in a coma for few days. Should be long enough to figure out what to do and how to kick that pesky lizard out of here without hurting Marie.

“Kid! If you don’t haul your pretty little ass here in this minute, I will personally spank it black and blue next time I see you!” He bellowed and smirked when he felt something shift. Nothing around him felt little more solid. Like it was little more there.
“Come on! Sooner you get in here, the sooner you get rid of me!” Little more shifting. Then sudden click.
“Uh…” He narrowly managed to avoid a sharp looking hook that flew towards him, dragging a sturdy looking chain after it. More shackles reminding that flew towards him from every direction. Few of them attached to his torso, and he tore them off grimacing from the pain. Wounds they left healed instantly.

Alea iacta est. Voice came from behind him. He turned around, and this time he didn’t have the time to dodge. Small grappling hook pierced his stomach, and tore its way out through his back. The chain it was attached to was icy cold. Line went taut.
Vae victis. Apparition in front of him spoke with a hollow voice. Pale body clad to shiny black leather. Bald head and face covered with long pins.
“Marie… You’re a sick little girl…” He gasped. Fucking Hellraiser.
Totum dependeat! Pinhead shouted, and grappling hook tore free from his body, pulling out bits and pieces that would have served their purpose much better when inside of him.
“Miserere!” He growled, falling to his hands and knees. Wound on his stomach was closing rapidly. He waited. Heard approaching footsteps when Pinhead came closer to inspect the damage he had done.
“Miserere…” He mustered every ounce of hurt and pain to that one word, making it sound like he was about to draw his last breath.
Tacet. Stern command. Hand on his hair, tugging his chin up.
“Causa mortis. Tu stupidus est!” He snarled, sprung his claws and sunk them deep. Creature in front of him hissed and crumbled to a pile of ash.

He stood up slowly, wiping his hands to his jean clad thighs. There was not a mark on him. Even though that monster had torn his gut out just few minutes ago, there was not even a tear on his shirt. No blood. Only proof that anything at all had happened was a small pile of ash. He kicked it and snorted. Looked like in here he was the stronger one.
“Marie! Come and get me out of here before another one of your friends comes to play!” He didn’t know if it was a futile attempt to scream after her, but at least it kept him occupied while he walked around, trying to find something. Anything. Even that pile of ashes had started to look entertaining.
“Kid! Get in here now!” And he was getting tired of this game. He just wanted to find her and go home. Give her a hug. Maybe give her a kiss.

“Better not to think about it…” He muttered. No kissing. Just a friendly hug. Pat to the back. Then get in a car and drive back home. Back to the cabin. Back to the rest of the animals. To easy life without strange occurrences and even stranger people scurrying around. To a life without her. Without Marie. He could practically see it. Snow crunching under his feet. Thick forest covered with white, powdery blanket of it. Small log cabin in the distance, smoke curling from the chimney. Lights were on, and from this distance he could smell delicious aroma of cooking meat and fresh coffee. Suddenly he wasn’t walking anymore. He was running. Scenery around him was quite intact. It was his cabin. Only other person that knew about that place was Marie. She was in there. She was in the cabin, waiting for him.

“Who’s there?” Hesitant voice came from the inside when he tried to open the door.
“It’s me, kid. Let me in.” He tried to tug the door open again, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Logan? Is it really you?” Voice grew hopeful, but door stayed shut.
“It is I. Open the door and let me in,” he assured.
“Tell me something only we know.”
“I was about to choose Poison from the jukebox in that bar.” Door creaked open. Narrow strip of pale skin and brown hair. White strand. He forced his fingers to the narrow gap and wrenched the door open. She screamed and tried to back away from him. He followed, slamming the door shut and pulling he to his embrace. For a moment she struggled, hands and feet flailing, trying to hit him, but when he did nothing, only held her, she relaxed.

“Is it really you?” It was nearly a sob. She pulled back a bit and studied his face with her fingers. Run them over his brows, found muttonchops and his unruly hairdo. Her eyes wandered restlessly, not once looking at him. It was as if she was…
“Kid? What’s wrong with your eyes?” She didn’t answer, just buried her face against his chest and hugged him. He took a hold from under her chin and tilted her face up. He tried to look in to her eyes, but her gaze wandered recklessly.
“You’re blind.”

“It tricked me. I was running away from it when I saw a tall tower. There was no door to it, but there was a window. You were there. At least it looked like you. You threw me a rope and told me to climb up, and I would be safe. I did as you told me to. I was half way up when you let go of the rope and I fell. There were sharp branches on the ground…” He was sitting in front of the fireplace Marie curled on his lap.
“It wasn’t me, kid. I just came here. When you were climbing, I was fighting the dragon in another story. Don’t trust… Don’t trust anything you see or hear in here,” he said. Marie tensed, and he heard a snicker.
Fallaces sunt rerum species…

Bundle of chains erupted from his chest, curling and slithering like snakes, searching a suitable prey. Cabin disappeared, leaving them in to empty darkness.
Unitas mirabile vinculum! Hooks claimed the girl on his lap, piercing her skin and muscles underneath, linking her to him with chains made out of his bones. She was screaming and struggling to get away. He held her to him, trying to keep her still before she hurt herself even worse. All the while his hands worked furiously, trying to dislodge hooks from her, but it was a futile effort. Every time he got some part of her free, two other hooks replaced the one he had taken away. They started to coil tighter; he could feel the pull coming from deep inside of him. They would tear her to pieces right under his eyes, and there was nothing he could do. More shackles were coming out of him, curling around them and crushing their bodies, almost like they were trying to force her inside of him through his skin.

“Enough!” Hollow voice boomed around them and shackles fell, dissolving and melting back inside of him. They could move again. Logan twirled around, still holding Marie against his chest.
“What the fuck…?” He tilted his head. There were two Pinheads, standing face to face. One was your regular Lord Of The Hell with only long pins coming out of his skull. The other had little extra, flames flicking out from its eyes and wide, black wings spanning from its back.

“This is not for your eyes,” the real Pinhead said, pointing at Logan without taking his eyes off from the doppelganger in front of him. A small flick of his wrist made cabin materialize around Logan and Marie again, sealing the two monsters outside.

Suddenly cabin, everything in it and around it and more importantly Marie disappeared. He was again in that empty, grey area where he had been in the first place. This time he wasn’t completely alone. Pinhead stood in front of him.
“You’re not too bright individual.” Words sounded almost like an accusation.
“Do you have any idea what kind of damage your little stunt caused?” Somehow he got the feeling he was being scolded.
“You do not belong here. I have no interest in you. I have more important matters to attend to.”
“Where’s here?” He asked. Cenobite harrumphed and he could hear distant sound of rattling chains.

“You are in my domain. And I don’t want you here. There’s nothing I can do for you. You already are such a beautiful specimen, perfect example…” Pale hand rose, infected fingers pointed at him and he felt a jolt going through his forearms. Pinhead was dragging his claws out. Strangely enough it didn’t hurt. They slid out easily, locking to their rightful places.
“Your domain? In Hell? That can’t be right! I’m… I’m in her head!” He started panicking when Pinhead made his hands move with just slight nod. Cenobite stared mesmerized when nine-inch long metal blades whooshed through air in gracious arc.

“You died. You were on your way to her when the dragon intercepted. It caused some ripples. Confusion. Our worlds brushed against each other. The dragon tried to push you over. You pulled it after you. You nearly shattered the balance when you stumbled in. Several smaller Hells collapsed before I managed to stop the reaction. Right now you could say I’m little… How do you humans say it? Oh, yes. I’m pissed off. And I would very much like to get rid of you.” All the while Pinhead had been talking he had been manipulating Logan’s body, and now he stood frozen, small beads of sweat forming to his forehead. His right hand was placed over his thigh, claws just inches from the artery. Left hovered on his throat, warm metal grazing the skin just slightly.
“You have the most intriguing physique. If I were to cut you now, you would heal right up… It would hurt, but not for long. Not long enough… You will never find the true pleasure, and for that I pity you.” Logan let out a relieved sigh when Pinhead released his hold of him and he could sheathe his claws again. Cenobite tilted his head.
“They are calling you. Go, and take your little friend with you!” Violent push, and he was falling. Dragon was there; digging sharp, clawed paws to his back, jaws locked tightly around his neck. He was falling through nothing, towards nothing. Suddenly something solid lurched towards him and he crashed. Collision was enough to knock him out.

“He’s waking up.”
“Look out, Your Highness! He might be dangerous!”
“Oh, hush! I know him! He’s not dangerous. At least not to me. Isn’t that right, sir Wolverine?” Marie asked from him when he opened his eyes. There was something wrong with his eyes. Or he had hit his head hard enough to damage his brain. He was sure of it. There was no other explanation to the sight that greeted him when he sat up groaning. Marie was kneeling next to him, dressed to a frilly pink dress, thin silver band adorning her head. Seven dwarves had gathered around them. He tried to rub his forehead and nearly poked his eyes out with three sharp looking studs that jutted out of a gauntlet on his hand.
“We have to go. That dragon is still somewhere around here. We have to get to the castle to warn the King,” oldest of the dwarves said, taking his hand and trying to jostle him up. Logan nearly laughed out loud, but judging from the faces surrounding him it wasn’t the right time for that. Instead he rolled slowly on his knees and stood up little unsteadily, trying to get comfortable inside of the armor he now wore. He recognized the material immediately. Adamantium.

“When you pulled that dragon out of me it pushed me to its own world. We are both in there now. In a fairytale. Dragon came back here with you. We have to warn the King about it,” Marie explained when they walked through a thick forest. They passed a small cabin made out of cookies and candy canes, and youngest of the dwarves flipped a finger to that direction before hurrying behind Logan’s back.
“That’s nice. And this King… He wouldn’t happen to know how we could get home from here?” Logan asked. Marie shook her head, and nearly tripped over when she accidentally stepped on the hem of her dress. Cuss she let out was less than ladylike.
“He doesn’t. But his wizard does. Merlin can send us back home.”
“Merlin? What is this place? Camelot?” Logan asked.
“This is a world from where all the fairytales come from. Lady Marie accidentally opened a gate between your world and this, letting the dragon out. At first the King was only happy, but he realized soon the catastrophical consequences of absence of the dragon. Without the dragon there’s no need for kings, knights, princesses, castles and queens. The dragon is actually the heart of this world,” one of the dwarves explained.

“Logan? What are you doing?” Marie asked when he stopped and started squirming.
“This thing is hot as an oven. Wait up a minute, I’ll take this off…” He was twisting and turning, trying to find straps that held his armor in place. Dwarves gathered around him and tried to help.
“Yes… I think it’s… Definitely yes,” oldest of them exclaimed and they retreated.
“It’s welded on you. And damn good work, if you don’t mind me saying. Couldn’t find a chink from it. Almost as good quality as Elvin mithril armors.”
“Almost?” Logan asked, cocking his brow.
“Elves usually make sure that there’s some kind of air conditioning. And some way to remove the armor.”
“No shit? Wonder what genius made mine, then…” Logan muttered throwing a dirty glance towards Marie who blushed. He had filtered in here through her mind.
“And how am I supposed to take a leak if I have to?” He asked. Dwarves looked at him puzzled, Marie eyes widening.
“Take a leak?” Oldest dwarf asked.
“If I have to pee.”
“You don’t have to. We are in a fairytale now,” dwarf said smiling.

They were approaching the castle, and started to encounter other characters familiar from different tales.
“Great. More dwarves…” Logan muttered when a band of short, stubby looking creatures blocked their path. Seven dwarves looked absolutely horrified and skittered behind him, peeking the newcomers from behind his feet.
“Not dwarves, hobbits,” eldest dwarf whispered.
“What ever you do don’t call them dwarves…”

“And what have we here? Isn’t it the Snow White and her seven companions? What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in your mines?” Leader of the hobbits asked. Dwarf elder stepped shivering from his hiding place to in front of Logan.
“We were there, but then we noticed that the dragon returned, and came to warn the King.” Hobbit leader snorted.
“And am I supposed to believe that crap? How are you going to pay your rent if you spend your time slacking around?” He asked, leaning closer to the dwarf, and now Logan noticed they had quite considerable size difference. Dwarf reached barely his kneecap, whereas hobbit towered over it, top of his head on the height of Logan’s hip.
“Frodo, this is really important…” Dwarf started. He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Hobbit sneered and backhanded him cruelly, sending him crashing against Logan’s feet.

“And what are you supposed to be? The Tin Man?” He had to give this Frodo-guy some credit. He was dangling the hobbit from the back of his neck in front of his face. His armored fist, nearly as big as Frodo’s head was hovering in front of hobbit's face, ready to strike.
“I’m sir Wolverine. And these guys are in my company. They have something important to tell to the King, so back off, bub!” And fuck if he didn’t feel like the biggest bully on the schoolyard when hobbit’s lower lip started to quiver. He lowered Frodo back to the ground and let go of him. Hobbit cussed and produced a small sword, more of a dagger from under his cloak. Logan could hear dwarves behind him oohhing and aahhing when the sword started to radiate pure white light.
“I’m going to slice you and use your hide to tie my shoes…” Hobbit growled.
“Yeah. What ever. But we have to do it some other time. We are in a hurry now,” Logan said and kicked him out of the way, herding Marie and their merry crew of dwarves past sulking hobbits.

Gates of the castle were wide open. To Logan it looked dangerous. Anybody could enter, and not everybody in here had only good and noble intentions. Dwarves noticed his sharp gaze sweeping the thick walls, looking for guards and other defensive measures. There were none. Absolutely nothing.
“Have you read the Neverending Story?” One of the dwarves asked from him.
“No. Why?”
“This is the castle they used in it. Princess, or more of a queen, that lived in there was so popular that she had no enemies. No need for guards and stuff. The King wanted to keep it that way. Of course he has guards, but they are so well hidden that they are almost impossible to notice. They can blend in to their surroundings.” Logan shivered. He really didn’t like the fact that there were creatures that were able to fool his senses so perfectly.

Castle was a strange mix of different building styles from different eras. Labyrinths, narrow corridors, large halls, ornately carved pillars and columns. Thick rug under their feet, lavish cloths on the walls.
“Oww… My feet are killing me…” Marie moaned when they stopped briefly to let a bigger party pass them by. She leaned against the wall and tried to rub her ankles, but it was quite impossible task, since she couldn’t find them from under layers upon layers of silk and lace. Logan kneeled in front of her and lifted the hem of her dress. She could hear him cussing and then he disappeared under her skirt. Dwarves exchanged knowing looks and winks. Logan’s fingers curled around her left ankle and she nearly fell when he lifted her leg to take away her shoe, an uncomfortable glass slipper. It flew to the opposite wall and shattered to pieces. Other followed it soon. Fingers brushed briefly chafed skin. Logan emerged from under pink mountain of her skirts angry scowl on his face.
“Fucking glass slippers? Are you nuts?”
“They came with the dress, and… Hey! Put me down!”

Quite a few brows rose among the court when they marched in to the great hall, Marie practically fuming, draped over Logan’s shoulders like some kind of weird shawl, surrounded by an army of dwarves.
“And what is this?” Man dressed as the fool asked.
“Competition?”
“I assure you we have no intentions to take over your job…” Logan grumbled and let Marie down. She smoothed her wrinkled dress and shot him a lethal glance. Dwarves hurried forward, towards the throne where the King sat.
“Can we go look for that Merlin now? I really would like to go home. As soon as possible. I want this stuff inside of me…” He patted his armor.
“And us both inside of our own heads, without this whole crap about dragons and knights and hells and stuff,” he huffed, quiet enough that the fool sneaking around them didn’t hear.
“Uh… I have a feeling it isn’t going to be so simple. We are in a fairytale. Remember how things work out in here?” Marie asked and he groaned.
“You mean we have to go and collect twenty thingamajigs and watchomagigs and throw them down from the mountain of doom before we can go home?”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad… Let’s just go and find Merlin.”

Finding Merlin was relatively easy. Getting in to his chambers proved to be harder.

“He just had to choose the highest possible tower… Haven’t they heard of elevators?” Logan lay panting on the steep spiral stair casing. Sweat was pouring from him in rivers. Yet he was shivering, as he was cold. Thermal shock, and they had barely reached the halfway marker. Marie tried to fan him with the hem of her skirt. Every sweep revealed tantalizing amount of bare skin and long shapely legs. Logan was quite sure he would have appreciated that if his heart weren’t trying to explode through his temples every time he tried to move or breathe.
“Merlin is the greatest of all magicians. I bet he doesn’t have to use these stairs…” Marie muttered and kneeled next to him, brushing sweat slicked hair away from his forehead. He was radiating heat. Suddenly he grimaced and every muscle in his body went rigid. He was stiff as a board.
“Hank…” He managed to hiss through clenched teeth.

“Clear!” Electricity coursed through Logan’s body once again. His heart constricted inefficiently couple of times and stopped. Hank abandoned the paddles and started compressions. He had been trying to resuscitate Logan nearly an hour now. For a while it looked like it was working, but then Logan had stopped responding altogether.
“It’s almost as… if he… was resisting…” Furry doctor was panting, exhausted. Professor Xavier who was monitoring his efforts frowned.
“We have to bring him back. He has been gone too long. Try with paddles again.” Hank waited until paddles were charged.
“Clear!” Scott moved away, taking the ventilating bag with him. This time they managed to produce a reaction out from the cold corpse in front of them. As soon as electric charge left Logan’s body, he lurched towards doctor McCoy and grasped the lapels of his jacket with stiff fingers. Cold, unseeing eyes fixed to his.
“Stop fucking around. Let me be.” His hold from Hank loosened and he fell, falling off from the gurney, as dead as he had been just couple seconds ago.

For a second Logan had disappeared completely. Now he was back, air wheezing in his throat, gagging and spluttering. He crawled clumsily to his hands and knees.
“We have to hurry. Hank and the rest of the crew are getting impatient…” He groaned and dragged himself up to his feet.
“What do you mean? Impatient?” Marie asked hurrying after him when he started to jog up the stairs.
“Never mind about that… Too long story… Just keep running…” Logan huffed, out of breath. He wasn’t going to tell her he was officially dead. It wouldn’t take long from Hank to start using desperate measures. He couldn’t leave Marie here alone, and he had no idea where he would end up if Hank actually managed to resuscitate him and he tried to return to her. As long as Hank kept his paws off from adrenalin and that huge cardiac needle that had been on a tray next to his gurney he could stay here. His ribcage would steer most of the current from the paddles away from his heart, and he was already too far-gone for manual compressions to work.

“This has to be it…” He was about to keel over. Marie behind him wasn’t faring much better. Layers of cloth she had on weighed a ton, and corset she had underneath wasn’t exactly sports model. Before he had time to knock the door in front of them opened, revealing a dimly lit chamber. Messy workbench in a corner, cozy looking couch and piles of pillows in front of a lit fireplace. Walls covered with thick, dusty books. Cloaked figure stood in the middle of the room.

Logan’s knees gave up and he collapsed heavily on the doorstep, clatter of his armor echoing down the stairs.
“Oh, my. Why didn’t you call? I could have picked you up. Those stairs are so tiring,” Merlin said, going to his workbench. Despite his weakness Marie had to put up quite an effort to prevent Logan from strangling the wizard.
“We came to ask your help,” she said, jostling Logan to the couch in front of the fireplace and forced him to lie down on it. He was trembling so hard that his armor sounded like some sort of clockwork.
“Yes. You’re not from around here, and you wish to go home. Sir Wolverine won’t have any problems with his return. In fact your friends are trying to pull him back there as we speak. You need my help to get back,” wizard said twirling a lock of his long, white beard between his fingers.
“What do you mean? Logan, what is he talking about?” She asked, turning to look at quite guilty looking Logan.
“I had to do something. I needed to get inside of you… Not that way!” He huffed when Merlin let out a chuckle.
“Jeesh, how old are you, wizard? Twelve? I had to get inside of your mind, Marie. Chuck wasn’t going to help me.”
“What did you do?” Her voice had faded to a whisper and all color was draining from her face.
“I’m dead. And as soon as they find a way to wake me up, I’m out of here.”

“Very suave. I bet you are a regular chick-magnet back in home…” Merlin commented.
“Oh, shut up.” As soon as Marie had figured out what exactly he had done she had stormed out from the room, angry as hell.
“Well, you didn’t come to me to seek guidance in your relationship…” Merlin started.
“We do not have a relationship,” Logan said quickly.
“Right. Tell me another one… The spell I need to do to transfer her back to home is big. Very big,” Merlin said.
“How much?” Logan asked.
“How much are you willing to pay for her safety?” Merlin asked.
“Anything. And you fucking knew that already. Name your price.”
“It’s not what I need. It’s what this kingdom needs. Shackle the dragon, and I send her home.”
“You don’t ask much. Could I perhaps bring you the moon and stars from the sky while I’m at it?” Logan snorted.
“And remember, we need that dragon alive. Under no circumstances are you allowed to kill it.”
“Do me one favor, and we have a deal…”

Logan had killed himself to find her. She didn’t know how to handle that knowledge. How to wrap her mind around the fact that her brave white knight was in reality a walking corpse. How long? How long had he been dead already? What kind of damage this would do to him? Even his mutation had limits. There was no telling if he could even return safely back to his body. And he had to know that. He wasn’t stupid.

She ran down the stairs that they had run up just few minutes ago. When she reached the first level that held a stone bench for those who needed to rest she stopped, lay down on the bench and curled to a tiny ball, trying to calm her mind and body.

“I don’t like this. I should take that needle and use it, rather than just sit here and wait,” Hank grumbled, wringing his hands and staring at the big, cruel looking cardiac needle that he had already filled with adrenalin.
“First, do no harm…” Scott whispered.
“Yes. I’m sure Logan had a good reason to refuse your treatment,” professor reassured.
“This must be the first,” Hank noted dryly.
“Clinically dead patient telling the doctor to back off.”
“Have you noticed this? Why there are bruises on his hands? Logan doesn’t get bruises,” Scott suddenly noticed. Hank sighed heavily.
“His mutation is starting to give up. When he grabbed me, his claws must have chafed some veins and muscles. Given enough time we will most likely discover more bruising. I wouldn’t rule out fast decomposing of his tissues either. I wouldn’t rule out anything, seeing as how little we understand about his physique.”

“Thanks about this.” Merlin could manipulate adamantium like a true master. Now his clumsy armor was gone, molded back inside of him where it belonged.
“You’re welcome. But remember. We really need that dragon alive. Kill it, and I will see that neither of you gets back home.”
“Yeah. But I have a princess to catch up before that…” Logan said, walking out. He never saw a crooked smile on Merlin’s face, or how the wizard raised his hand and draw strange looking, glowing pattern to thin air.

Marie’s eyes closed. She had been absolutely horrified and angry just few minutes ago, but right now she was exhausted. Hard and cold stone under her felt like heavenly soft bed. She could hear quiet whispers around her, soothing touches all over her suddenly aching body. She fell deeper and deeper in to slumber. She heard approaching footsteps. Probably Logan. He would pick her up from here. He would take care of her.

“Where the fuck did you go now?” He was standing on the ground floor, in front of tower’s entrance. There was no sign of Marie. She couldn’t have gone very far, not with bare feet. Courtyard of the castle was paved with small, sharp edged pebbles. He rolled his shoulders, trying to get again used to wearing clothes instead of armor. Merlin had given him pants, shoes and tunic made out of soft, black leather. There was a paw print of an animal embroidered to his chest with golden string. Wolverine.

He tried to track down her scent, but people were crossing his path constantly, and soon he had to give up.
“What should have I done, kid? I couldn’t just leave you alone with that dragon…” He huffed, kicking pebbles.
“Sir Wolverine! Sir Wolverine!” A herd of midgets wearing body armors that reminded a tin can surrounded him. Dwarves. And from the looks of it they were going to a war. Every one of them was carrying a mean looking axe, nearly as tall as dwarves themselves.
“What?” He barked. He had thought he would have gotten rid of them for good.
“We would like to introduce ourselves.”
“Let me guess… Dopey, Grumpy, Doc, Bashful, Sleepy, Sneezy and Happy?” Logan grunted. He had had no idea he remembered those names.
“Yes. And we came to help you. You’re going to capture the dragon, aren’t you?” Doc asked.
“Actually there’s something you could do. Find lady Marie and tell her I want to talk with her,” he said quickly. He had no will or intentions to let giant lizard make roast beef out of quite popular fairytale characters.
“You’re going to hunt down a dragon, and send us after your girlfriend?” Grumpy asked.
“She’s not my girlfriend. And last time I saw her, she was quite mad at me. I have no idea where she went, and I’m starting to get worried. I have great sense of smell, and I can usually track her down easily, but now it’s like she’s vanished to thin air. I really need your help with finding her.”
“Sir Wolverine and lady Marie sitting under a tree, k-i-s-s…” Happy’s voice faded when claws shot out from Logan’s hands.
“She’s not my girlfriend. Got it, bub?” he growled, leaning close enough to see small golden flecks in Happy’s eyes, teeth bared to an angry snarl.
“But I’m ready to do anything for her. Anything. Scoot! Fetch her before this urge to slice and dice becomes unbearable!” All he had to do was to straighten his back and flail his hands a bit, and dwarves scattered to every possible direction. If Marie was anywhere in this are, they would find her.
“And now I have a dragon to capture…”

She woke up slowly. Somebody was kissing her. At first she answered to the kiss, trying instinctively to deepen it. When instead of muttonchops and wild mess of a hair her hands found clean-shaven jaw and long hair in a ponytail another kind of instinct kicked in. She bit down hard the lip she had pulled between hers, and hands that just few seconds ago had caressed gently wrapped the ponytail tightly around her wrist and she yanked hard. When she heard a startled gasp and pained whimper she dared to open her eyes.

“Why did you do that?” Delicate looking young man asked, holding a hand over his bleeding lip. He was dressed to a plain, blue tunic and pants. Plain, yellow cape was draped over his shoulders, and he carried a short, simple and efficient looking sword on his hip.
“Nobody told you it’s rude to kiss unknown, sleeping people?” Marie asked, sitting up and trying to place the face in front of her. She had seen the man, she was sure of it.
“But… I was supposed to do that! I was supposed to wake you up and save this kingdom! I made my way through thick and thorny rosebushes…” She held up a hand to silence him.
“Sorry, you found the wrong princess. I already have a prince… Well, he’s more of a knight. And I’m sure he’s looking for me as we speak. I just… Thanks for waking me up. I’ll just go and find him before he gets worried,” she said, hopped down from the bed she had lain on and walked out from the room, leaving quite baffled Prince Charming behind.

She had been expecting to see the busy courtyard of the castle when she opened the door. Instead she was standing in the middle of rundown, abandoned and decaying skeleton of the castle. What weather and different animals hadn’t done to it, mean looking vines and bushes of roses were finishing. It wouldn’t take much to bring down once sturdy and proud fortress around her.

“What happened in here?” She whispered.
“Merlin. He’s gone mad. He’s started to mix storylines in a completely new way. And to tell you the truth, I’m kind of tired of it. You know, you’re my fifth princess in this week alone!” Prince had walked out after her and was standing next to her.
“Every time it’s the same. Old castle, girl sleeping in there. Have to go and kiss her to save her from under an evil spell and then save the whole kingdom and marry that girl. Kind of disrupts the mood when that girl turns in to a frog or a statue made out of salt. Or bites me.”
“I’m sorry. I got scared. I thought you were my friend and…” She really was sorry. Prince Charming shrugged his shoulders.
“At least you weren’t trying to turn me to a stone. The girl I met before you had snakes coming out of her hair, and she made a statue out of me. If one of her chamber maids hadn’t fallen in love with me and kissed me, I would still be standing in there and serving her as a coat rack.”
“But hey? Merlin’s mad? But he was supposed to be helping us!” Marie suddenly exclaimed.
“Good luck with that,” Prince snorted, adjusted his sword and glanced around.
“I have to go now. But if you happen to find another castle like this, and fall asleep, would you please not bite if you wake up with somebody kissing you?” He asked, and let out a low whistle. Huge, white stallion galloped from around the corner, and stood patiently, letting him climb on its back. Then the horse whinnied and galloped away, hooves clicking and clacking against the pavement stones.

“Crap!” She snorted and kicked the pebbles on the ground.
“Shit!” She had no idea where she was. She had no idea how she had gotten here. And she had no idea how to get back home.
“Fuck!”
“Tsk, tsk… That’s not the way to a proper lady to address her inner turmoil…” Voice scolded her. She turned to look.

Old woman, dressed to a long, billowy blue dress, carrying a magic wand, hovering few inches above the ground stared at her.
“Fairy godmother?”
“The one and only,” woman said smiling and curtsied.
“I’m lost. Could you take me back home?”
“Tut, tut… First we have to teach you some manners…”
“Manners my ass, Lady… There’s a man waiting for me, and I have to get to him before he tears this whole fucking place a part, brick by brick!” Marie noticed she was stomping her feet like a three-year-old while she was ranting, but couldn’t make herself care. She had to get back to Logan.
“And who might this gentleman be, that you’re trying s desperately reach?” Fairy godmother asked.
“Sir Wolverine. We were supposed to go home together. Then I fell asleep, and woke up in here.”
“Sir Wolverine? What are you doing in here, child? We have to hurry!” Old woman gasped and twirled her magic wand, showering Marie with small golden stars.

At first became darkness. She was gliding through levels and layers, every cell and molecule in her body evaporating, then arranging back to their rightful places and she stopped moving.
“Uhh… Help?” She was back in King’s castle. Standing in front of the throne. In front of her was standing the biggest and darkest dragon she had ever seen. Piercing red eyes studied her with great curiosity. Then it took a deep breath, testing the air and grinned, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth.
Nihil obstat. Words fell from its mouth like pieces of heavy, cold metal. She couldn’t understand a word.
Anguis in herba. Caro putridas es. Dragon hissed. She started to have a bad feeling. This probably wasn’t going according to any kind of manuscript. She couldn’t remember a tale where Dragon would have stopped to chat with the princess. They usually stuffed fair maidens on top of tall towers to rot away and sat in guard until Prince arrived and rescued their captive. Now here she was. In an empty castle with a dragon. Alone.

She didn’t dare to move, but suddenly dragon tilted its head, and turned its back on her. Somebody entered the room. Logan. Without the armor. For a moment grey mist surrounded him, and when it evaporated all seven dwarves stood beside him, armed to the teeth.
“Marie!” Logan shouted her name and dashed towards her, trying to skirt past the dragon. She could hear soft bells and see a swarm of golden, shiny stars.
“Sorry about this, my dear… Wrong address again. I’ll send you back home now…” She could hear Fairy godmother speak, and everything started to fade away. Last thing she heard was Logan’s surprised and rather loud cursing.

“What the fuck is it with this place? Huh? As soon as I managed to find her, she disappears again! I’m fucking going nuts!”
Aquila non… Dragon tried to cut in.
“Fucking save it. I’m not in the mood anymore. And speak English, for Christ’s sake! And get yourself a life! Stop bothering me!” Logan quipped and turned to look at dwarves who stared at him in awe.
“What?” He asked when they suddenly panicked and started to scatter to every possible direction.
“Behind you, Sir Wolverine!” Doc shouted.
“I already told you I wasn’t in the mood!” He roared, swirled around unsheathing his claws and swiped off dragon’s head. It had been trying to take a bite out of him. For a moment headless corpse stood in front of him, then disappeared with a loud roar. In its place stood a deathly pale woman, clad to black leather from head to toe, black silk cape swirling from her shoulders down to her ankles.

“Prepare to meet your doom,” woman hissed with a low, husky voice.
“Time-out,” Logan announced, turned his back and crouched, urging dwarves out from their hiding place.
“Who’s she?” He asked. Woman cleared her throat, and he could hear the leather creak when she shifted, crossing her hands over her chest.
“In a minute!” He roared over his shoulder and turned his attention to suddenly little too serious faces of his companions.
“Who is she?” He asked again. Dwarves shook their heads.
“We have no idea. We have never seen her before,” Doc spoke. Again woman cleared her throat. He could hear footsteps. Sharp heels clicking against the stone floor. Icy cold fingers tapped his shoulder.
“I came to take your soul. If you would be kind enough and look me in the eye…” She whispered, crouching behind him, hands trailing muscles on his sides, ending to his lower abdomen. Touch sent shivers down his spine.

“I want your soul…” Woman whispered, embracing him from behind and grazing his earlobe with cold lips. Dwarves had hid again. He shrugged her hands off from him and turned to look at her slowly.
“Get in line, bitch. Fucking everybody from the Devil to the Pope seems to want something from me these days. You just have to wait your turn,” he spat. Woman glared at him, eyes darkening.
“You dare to speak me in that manner? Do you have any idea who I am, foolish mortal?” She asked, voice dripping icicles. Logan huffed.
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Right now all I want to do is to get back home to my girl. And you’re standing in my way. Not a good place to be. Back off before I hurt you…” Woman laughed at his words, raised a hand and trailed her fingers down his cheekbone, to his nose and stopped to his lips, tapping his lower lip lightly.
“You have guts… I would hate to see them spilled all over this floor, Wolverine…” She purred, other hand caressing his stomach, heading lower, until he gripped her wrist and stopped her.
“Those parts are reserved to somebody else, lady. Now, what do I have to do to get rid of you and this whole fucking twisted dimension?”
“Give me your soul! Now!”

He closed his eyes when he felt her hands on his cheeks. Somehow he got the feeling it wouldn’t be a good idea to look in to her eyes. That idea was quickly confirmed when she tried to pry open his eyelids with her fingers.
“Look at me!” She screeched. He grabbed blindly a hold of something and shoved hard. Woman screamed and let go of him. He risked a quick glance. She had stumbled away from him, and was now slowly standing up, sheathing from barely suppressed rage.
“Fool. You’re only prolonging it. Sooner or later you have to open your eyes…” Woman whispered and giggled. Then unnerving silence fell over him. He couldn’t see or hear anything. He couldn’t sense her presence. Small hairs at the back of his neck bristled from anticipation. What ever she was planning, it wasn’t nice.

Barrage of images flashed through his mind. Images of Marie. She was laughing and having fun with her friends. Good. She deserved that. After all she had gone through, she deserved every bit of happiness she could get. Logan’s mouth curled to a hesitant smile. More images, Marie, little older now. The day she had taken him out. It had been a good day. Up until his fuck up at the bar. More images. This time he accepted the role she had cast on him. Smile on his face started to fade. He was forced to open his eyes when instead of going to his own room he had followed Marie to her room and shoved her violently against the wall. It was something he didn’t want to see.

“My, my… Does our brave Sir Wolverine have a soft spot? A chink in the armor?” Woman was standing right behind him, cold breath tickling the side of his throat when she spoke. He growled and lunged forward to get away from her. She clung to his shoulders and made him stumble and fall on his hands and knees. They wrestled a moment. Woman was unnaturally strong, and soon got him pinned down on his back, hands secured above his head, face hovering only inches from his. She licked her black, shining lips and blinked.

He tried to look everywhere but to her eyes. She chuckled softly, leaning closer and licked his cheek. Her tongue left wet, cold trail on his skin and he started to tremble out of fear. It started to look like he wasn’t going to see Marie anymore.

Leather creaked softly when she moved, straddling him.
“This is going to be so good…” Woman moaned and grind her bottom against his crotch. He whimpered and tried to squirm away. Away from her cold touch. He wanted to go home. He wanted to go home and wrap his arms around Marie and never let go. He had gotten enough of these games. No more.
“First I’m going to fuck you. Then I’m going to suck you dry…” Woman hissed and released his hands, grasping his tunic and tearing it off from him.
“I have a better idea,” Logan said, pressed his knuckles against her forehead and released his claws.

Several things happened simultaneously. Woman exploded to ashes. At the same time huge double doors to the room burst open and Merlin stepped in, followed by an old woman dressed to a blue dress. Merlin started to chant. Sudden stab of pain tore through Logan’s chest, making him curl on his side. Woman in a blue dress was carrying some sort of stick with a golden star attached to it. She twirled that stick and golden haze surrounded Logan. Stab of pain was soon followed by a jolt of electricity coursing through his whole body.

“Clear!” Another jolt. He could see muddled images around him. Ghost-like apparitions. Room around him was changing, getting lighter. Smooth white and chrome was replacing coarse rock and sturdy wooden furnishing.
“We have a pulse!”
“Perhaps another shot of adrenalin…” Stab. Breathing was getting harder. It felt like he was running. Out of breath and strength, he was running uphill, towards something he couldn’t see properly, but recognized it anyway. It was a person. A girl. Marie. She was standing by his side.
“Welcome back.”

Hank, Scott and professor retreated from the med lab when it was clear that Logan was stable enough. He had pulled Marie with him on the gurney, nearly suffocating her under his massive frame, clinging her for dear life. He was whispering something, repeating it like a mantra. It took her a while to make out the slurred words, but when she understood what he was saying a smile lit up her face.
“I love you too, Logan.”

His skin was still cold and he moved little sluggishly, but he managed to lift himself up enough to see her face.
“I thought I wouldn’t see you anymore…” He croaked and buried his face to the crook of her neck, taking a deep breath, soaking up the warmth from her skin. He was trembling all over.

Suddenly it struck her, like a ton of bricks. They were home. Back at the mansion. She was under Logan in a med lab. Home. No more geeky Princes, no more weird wizards and dwarves. She let out a strangled gasp and wrapped her arms around Logan as tightly as she could. He had said that he loved her. And he was here with her. Most importantly they were alone.
“As good as this feels, I have to get up…” Logan muttered, rolling off from her.
“Bathroom, kitchen, bed. That okay with you?” He asked, extending his hand to Marie. She nodded and yawned. Now that he mentioned it, she was completely exhausted, but her stomach and bladder were screaming for some attention. First one grumbling for being so empty, other nearly bursting under the pressure. They were really home. Laws of fairytales didn’t apply anymore.

Bathroom was a bit tricky for Marie. Logan flatly refused to let her out of his sight. Finally she had to cave in and let him escort her to the tiny stall in ladies room.
“I’m not going to disappear if you turn your back for a second…” She grumbled.
“I’m not going to give you a chance to do that. Not when I finally caught you,” Logan said. It wasn’t easiest possible task to pee while he was crouching next to her, holding her hand, but finally she managed.

They had eaten, just some leftovers from the fridge. Now they were walking towards the dorms. She stopped in front of her door. Logan shook his head and took her hand.
“Nuh-huh. You’re coming with me,” he said nudging her after him. He stopped in front of his door.
“You’re going to sleep with me. At least for a while. I won’t take advantage… I’m not going to do anything. I just want to keep you close, where I can see you,” he explained before opening the door. She nodded and walked in after him.

“Logan? Did you kill the dragon?”
“Yes. And we’re home now. I don’t want to hear another word about fairytales.”
“I guess it would be too much to ask from you to tell me a bedtime story…” Marie sighed, stifling a giggle. Logan pulled her against his side and placed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.
“Once upon a time there was a little annoying girl who couldn’t keep her mouth shut…”
“Hey! I’m not annoying! Or little!”
“Who’s telling the story?” Logan asked, soft smile on his face.
“I think I don’t like that particular story that much. How about something that begins after the dragon is dead?”
“Then they lived happily ever after. The annoying little girl, and thickheaded jackass. Nobody gave them half of a kingdom, but they had each other, and it was more than enough.”
“Logan?”
“I... I’ll be your Prince. If you still want to be my Princess.”
“I think I like more if you’re just Logan. And I’m Marie.”
“Good. Wouldn’t have looked good in those tights anyway...”