SORRY AND MISERABLE

He woke up. Somebody was in the room with him. In his bed. Warm presence pressed against his back. Small hand clasped with his own, fingers draped over his knuckles. Marie.
“Kid?” He whispered. She awoke with a gasp, pulling away from him. He could hear her heart pounding.
“I’m sorry… I…” She started to get up, scrambling desperately, trying to untangle covers that had captured her. He turned and pulled her against his chest.
“Hush. What’s the matter? Couldn’t sleep?”

How could she tell him what was bothering her? What made her wander to him every night, sometimes just to watch, sometimes to curl next to him? How could she tell him she could hear him calling her? His voice inside of her head was beckoning her night after night with promises of a touch. Touch that he had given her freely not once, but twice, nearly giving his life. Now that her mutation was gone, it was even more alluring; to know only hindrance separating them was a memory of a dead woman. And his voice was hinting she could exploit that memory quite easily.

“Had a nightmare?” Logan asked, fingers combing her tangled locks. She wanted to cry. How could he be so blind? With his senses it should have been obvious why she sought his company.
“No… Just couldn’t sleep,” she whispered with a thick voice, cuddling even closer to his warmth, hand brushing his stomach lightly before settling to his chest.
“School keeping you up?” Was his next guess and she wanted to smack him for being so dense. Instead she let her hand wander; explore hard muscles on its path.
“Marie?”
“Just let me stay, please. I’m so cold…” She turned to look at him. Worry and weariness was evident on his face, as well as confusion. She made her decision, crawled higher in his embrace and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.
“I could be her.”

His whole body went rigid upon hearing those words. He had known. Had known for weeks. From the first night, when she had crawled next to him, claiming she had a nightmare. Scent of her arousal was weak, but it had been there. And with every visit it had grown. He had ignored it. Played the waiting game. And now she practically threw it on his face, offering her body for him to use. He swallowed.

“Is that what you really want? Faceless fuck, me screaming her name when I come?” He asked harshly. Now it was her turn to freeze.
“I can do that, if that’s what you’re after.” He grabbed her breast and pinched her nipple through her nightgown. She gasped and her cheeks gained a rosy hue, but he could smell it was more out of humiliation than arousal. He chuckled softly and smoothed the fabric under his palm.
“That’s what I thought about. It’s not enough for you. It wouldn’t be enough for me either.” She looked mortified, but he had to give her credit for not bolting away.

“I am flattered. And interested. More than you know.”
“What’s stopping you then?” She asked, not so thrilled anymore. Image of Logan, rutting above her and moaning Jean’s name floated in her mind.
“You. I’m guessing you never had the chance to fuck Iceprick. Am I right?” He asked, trailing the curve of her breast with his fingertips absentmindedly. It tickled a bit.
“No. After I got the cure, he was with Kitty already.”
“And yet here you are. Throwing away your first time like it was nothing.” Words were harsh, but the tone of his voice was gentle, almost sad.
“What made you do this?”
“You. You called me.” Now it was his turn to blush and clear his throat.

He couldn’t deny it. He had been interested from the moment he had laid his eyes on her. But he had pushed those desires to the back of his mind, locked them away. She had been just a kid. Still was in many ways, regardless of all the experience and years that had accumulated from her touching the people around her.
“Shit. I really did that. Didn’t I.” It wasn’t a question. At least not one she could have answered.
“Maybe we should ask Chuck to take a look at your head. Maybe he could… I don’t know… Erase me, or something?” For that she reacted, bolting away from him, retreating towards the door.
“Don’t you dare… That is the only thing I have from you! Rest of you may very well belong to Jean, but that one tiny shred is mine, and nobody… Nobody touches it!” She was out of his room before he had the time to react.

She was hiding. In the only place she knew he wouldn’t step in voluntarily. Med lab was cold and quiet. It had been her kingdom. Red Queen’s court. She snorted at that thought. She had actually liked Jean. She had been a good friend. Good wife to Scott. It made dealing with Logan even harder. She couldn’t hate Jean. She couldn’t hate Logan. She couldn’t accept the attraction they had shared, or the grief Logan was going through. She didn’t know what to do with the whispering voice of the Wolverine in her head. Only moments it quieted were those brief encounters wit Logan in the middle of the night, but after every encounter the voice gained more strength and clarity. It had gotten to a point where she had to really concentrate to hear anything else than constant suggestions and proposals.

Logan hadn’t even denied it. Hadn’t told her she was imagining it all. But he had told her all he had to offer was a nameless, faceless fuck. At first she had thought she could do it if it kept Wolverine in her head silent, but in the end it hadn’t felt right. Now Wolverine was furious, she was confused, and she didn’t even dare to imagine what Logan was doing. Probably talking with Professor Xavier.

She had told Logan the truth. She wasn’t going to give up on wolverine. Wasn’t going to let professor to root it out from her mind like it was a common weed. It was something from him. Something from Logan. She knew she was being selfish. She didn’t even know how Logan felt about the idea of a part of him being permanently lodged inside of her mind, but to her it was too precious fragment to give up. Jean held his heart. Was it so fucking wrong to want something from him just for herself? It wasn’t like she had asked him to marry her.

She let her gaze wander around. Every surface was covered with a thin sheen of dust. Every item was on its rightful place, neatly organized. Just as she had left it before they embarked to the Alkali Lake. Nobody had used this room in two long months. Small cuts and scrapes and ill students had been treated in a hospital in the city. She walked to the cleaning supplies closet and took out a rag. Started swiping off the dust. Jean would have been mortified to see this place in this condition.

Three hours later Logan finally found her. She had fallen asleep to an examining table, clutching the rag in her hands. Every surface was squeaky clean. Cold and sterile environment gave him the creeps, but he pulled out a chair and sat on it, leaning his elbows to the cool metal surface of the table.
“Kid?” He whispered.

Kid? Wolverine never called her that. Marie. Woman. Hey, you, get on your knees. Those were more familiar names. She opened her eyes and met Logan’s steady gaze.
“We have to talk.” She sat up and smoothed her wrinkled nightgown.
“Did you tell to Professor?” She asked. Logan shook his head.
“No. It’s not my decision to make. But tell me one thing. Why?”
“Why what?” She asked.
“Why can’t you let it go?”
“Why can’t you let go of Jean?” She asked, and he flinched.
“Touché.”
“I can’t. No more than you can. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Logan said, avoiding her eyes.
“You have no reason to be sorry for. I didn’t ask you to touch me. You didn’t ask to fall in love with Jean. Those things just happened.”
“Yeah. They happened. They happened to you. I should have stayed away from here after the Statue Of The Liberty. Should have kept away from you. Away from everybody.”
“Don’t say that!” She climbed hastily down from the table and took his hand.

“I left because of you. Because of how I felt about you. I thought it was okay to return when I stopped waking up with a hard-on after dreaming of you. At first Jean was a convenient distraction. Then I got to know her. I still miss her. For that I am sorry. That I can’t offer you what I promised when I touched you.”
“We are both sorry and miserable. How the hell did we manage to screw things up completely?” She asked, not even expecting an answer. His next words amazed her.
“I’m so fucking tired of this shit. How abut if we skip this pity party for two and go out?”

“Go out? As in date?” She stuttered. He nodded.
“Eat, see a movie, go and have a drink, go to a pony ride… I don’t know. What ever people do when they are supposed to have fun together and fall in love to somebody.”
“Why?” She asked.
“I have a feeling we’re going to end up between sheets together eventually. Would like to learn to know you before that. Would like it to be because of love, not because we’re both miserable.” She could only stare at him, mouth hanging open.
“Pick your jaw from the floor and go get dressed. First we go to eat, then we’re going to see a movie.”

He had wallowed in the self-pity longer than it was suitable. Jean had been a friend. A good and close friend he had had a crush size of a Himalaya, but that didn’t give him a right to mourn her as a lover or a husband. That part was reserved for Scott. It was time for him to let go and move on before he soiled the memory of her for good.

YOU GOT ME

She looked across the room seeking him. The man the whole mansion considered being her boyfriend. Boyfriend? Hardly. She smiled softly. Year had passed since their decision to start dating. They had performed well. Even better than good. Done everything perfectly. True romance according to trashy novels and foofy movies. Yet something was missing. They loved each other, but that final spark that was needed to get things to the next level was missing. They were close friends, probably closer than many real lovers, sharing every detail of their life with each other. Even living together. Sharing the bed. Yet every evening they went to sleep. No sex. And somehow it suited both of them just fine. She got the closeness and caring she craved. He got secure and trustworthy haven from nightmares in her arms.

“Are you happy?” She had asked him one evening. They sat outside in the garden, scent of roses and light of the stars around them. Logan had puffed his cigar for a while before answering.
“Yeah. I guess I am. Are you?” She had wanted to say no. She had wanted to say that she needed more than she was getting out of their relationship.
“Yes. I am happy,” came out from her mouth instead. And it had suddenly dawned on her. She truly was happy and contended.
“We are turning in to a old, married couple,” she had giggled. Logan had frowned.
“We don’t have sex. That’s what this is about. Right?” He had asked. She had nodded.
“You want to?”

That was the question she tried to find answer now. Did she really want it? Did she really need it? Was Logan the man she wanted in the end? Or was it just the Wolverine in her head making her crave things she wouldn’t normally even have noticed?

“That’s the very reason I haven’t tried anything,” Logan had said when she had confessed her doubts to him.
“Don’t want you to wake up one morning and find out it wasn’t what you wanted after all.” He had put out his cigar and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“But what if it’s the right thing to do? What if it really is me, not the wolverine wanting it?” she asked. Logan rubbed her shoulder.
“We have time to find it out. All the time in the world. If, and when it happens, I want both of us to be sure about it.”

Sure about it? She looked in the mirror. Her reflection gave no answers. She was sure about her love towards Logan. She was sure about his love towards her. But those were the only things she could be sure about.

“What if something happens? What if we don’t have the time?” She had asked. Logan had looked at her a bit worried, nostrils flaring.
“You don’t smell sick. What are you talking about?”
“Duh. I’m just fine. But we’re not immortals. We can get hurt. We can die. We can get ill. Anything could happen.”
“We just have to make sure it doesn’t happen. Like I said, we have the time.”

But did they? He could get killed during the mission. All it took was one good hit from Magneto, and Logan would be dead. A buss could hit her and it would all be over. Was she prepared to live with Logan like a nun and realize in the end it would have been worth it? That sharing more than a slumber would have been good for the both of them?

They lay on their bed, staring at the ceiling. First time uncomfortable. First time they had approached the deeper level of their relationship in bed. Spoken out loud the question that puzzled both of them. This time he had started the conversation.

“I have been thinking about it,” he had said when they scooted under cover. He didn’t wrap his arms around her like before, stayed on his back on his own side of the bed instead.
“I have been thinking about it, too,” she had said.
“There’s one way to be sure.” She had known what he meant. The one thing they hadn’t spoken after that night. Wolverine.
“I know. I have kind of forgotten him…” It hadn’t been a complete lie. Ever since she had started living with Logan, Wolverine in her head had kept quiet. It was still there, and sometimes she could feel it. Sometimes she had lain awake after Logan had fallen asleep, thinking.

“I think it’s time to let go…” She whispered around a lump in her throat. Logan turned to look at her.
“It’s your decision. Either way you got me. Remember that. What ever you decide to do, you got me.”

LETTING GO

In the end it was relatively easy. Just walk to Xavier’s office and ask him to erase Wolverine. Professor did it without questioning her request. Afterwards she felt alone and empty. Feeling that got only stronger when she returned to their room and Logan was gone. He had left, and taken all his belongings with him.

“You got me,” had been his last words for her. As soon as she had gotten out of the bed and left to wake up the professor, he had packed up. Had it all been just a lie? She took a few tentative steps towards the bed. Maybe she was seeing things. Maybe he wasn’t really gone.

No. Sheets on his side of the bed were cold. Closet and drawers were missing his clothes. Few assorted knick-knacks she had come to connect with him were gone, too. Small pile of bike magazines. Pack of cigars. Small box of matchsticks. Dog tag he hadn’t worn in ages. It had hung on the wall, next to door on a hook were people usually kept their keys. All gone. He was gone.

“Fuck him. And good riddance!” She shouted the last words out from the open window he had apparently used when he left. Tears were threatening to fall, but she refused to cry. She had cried a bit when professor had told her Wolverine was gone, but she refused to cry over the man she had thought was in love with her.

“At least we didn’t…” She shook her head. Better not to continue that trail of thought. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anybody. Then she took a look around her. Well, she wasn’t right. She would need professor. First thing in the morning she would request him to let her move in to her old room.

No crutches. He sat on his bike, just outside of the gates. His sensitive ears had picked her angry shout moment ago. That had nearly made him turn back and return to her immediately, spewing apologies, begging for forgiveness. But it wasn’t the time for that. She needed to do this on her own. To let go of the shadow of him completely before they could even think about moving to the next stage in their relationship.

He let the wind soothe his burning cheeks. He wanted to stop and turn back, but he had to stay away. Let her figure things out. Last thing he needed was her to realize he wasn’t what she wanted after they had already taken things too far to back out. Now that Wolverine was out from the equation, only thing left standing between them was Logan himself. He had talked about it with her, just briefly. She had ended the conversation abruptly, and they had never approached the subject anymore.

They had been sitting in the dining hall, in the middle of the night. Large, steaming cups of tea in front of them.
“What do you see when you look at me?” He had asked.
“I see you.” It wasn’t the answer he had wanted. Not even close. It had been far too casual. It had come out too easily.
“How do you see me?” He had asked. She hadn’t answered. She had stood up and left, leaving him alone.

He wanted to be the man she loved. He didn’t want to be her hero, a guardian. Just a man. The annoying creature that left dirty socks lying around, smoked indoors no matter how harshly she scolded him, and in the end of the day somebody she could cuddle up with in front of a cozy fire. He would be the hero. He would be the guardian. He would take any life, he would give any life including his own to keep her safe, but he didn’t want her to love him because of it, but despite it.

She had to let go of him completely before they were ready.

After he had been gone for a month she had calmed a bit. She didn’t curse and spat every time somebody said his name. After two months she stopped using the door of his room as her personal sparring partner. After three months she felt the first bangs of longing, but she tucked them away. She had a life to attend to. No time for pine after traitorous fucker. At the end of the fourth month she caved in and asked professor Xavier to seek him up and find out if he was okay.

In the end of the fifth month he returned.

JUST A MAN

She was returning to her room from a late night swim. Scent of chlorine still clinging to her, hair wet. She was exhausted, but in a good way. She closed the door, hand reaching for the light switch.
“What do you see when you look at me?” His question stopped her.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass to the curb. One good reason not to call Scott and shout rape,” she hissed to the shadowed figure sitting on the windowsill.
“There is no reason. Can you give me a reason to stay?” He asked.
“What the fuck do you want? If you’re expecting me to jump for joy and spread my legs just because you decided to honor me with your presence, you’re in for a nasty surprise…” She growled.
“I want to know what do you see when you look at me.”
“What do I see? A deceiving piece of shit! That’s what I see! You told me no matter what you would be there for me! Well, where the fuck have you been these past months?” She spat the words out of her mouth. She wanted to stop them, but she couldn’t. She was too angry.
“Deceiving piece of shit? Good. Only one way to go. Up.” He sounded all too cheerful. Her hand hovered above the light switch, but she never got the chance to turn it on. With a couple of swift steps he was right in front of her and grasped her wrist.
“I’m just a man, Marie,” he whispered, lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm before releasing her hand and leaving.

He had been severely tempted to grab her and shut her mouth by crushing her lips under his own. Kissing her until she couldn’t talk. But it wasn’t the time for that yet. It was time to gain back her trust and friendship. So instead of molesting her then and there he left, walking to his old room Xavier had kept for him.

He had fallen asleep. Sound of the door opening woke him up. Door closed and he could hear lock clicking. Rapid heartbeat. She was breathing fast, every breath shallow. She was nervous.
“Are you awake?” She whispered, hovering hesitantly at the door. He patted the empty spot beside him invitingly. She scooted under the cover, getting close, but not too close. She wasn’t touching him.

“Bad dreams?” He asked. He could see through darkness her smile. She knew this drill by heart now.
“No. Just couldn’t sleep.”
“These pricks around here giving you a hard time?” He asked, turning to his side. She giggled a bit.
“No,” she said.
“Well, what is it, then?”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too. It’s good to be back,” he said, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Can you tell me something?” She suddenly asked, completely serious.
“Shot me.”
“What is it that you want to hear? What is the right answer?” She asked. He sighed and turned on his back. She scooted closer, curling against his side.
“I don’t know if there’s a right answer. I left because I wanted to give you a chance to stand on your own. Learn to live. I want us to be together, but I can be domineering and possessive asshole. I don’t want you to jump when I tell you to. I want you to jump when it’s something you want to do.”
“Okay. But right now I would like to sleep. Shut up and close your eyes.”
“Bossy, are we?” He chuckled.

He woke up and ground his crotch instinctively against warmth. During the night they had turned, and he was spooning Marie now. She had discarded her nightgown. He had slept nude as usual. Her soft skin felt like heaven against his. It tasted little salty when he kissed her shoulder. She murmured in her sleep and squirmed closer to him. His erect cock ended up between her thighs, rubbing against her soft folds. It was good. He hugged her tightly and breathed in her sleepy scent. She murmured again and tried to wriggle away from his grasp.

She wanted to sleep. Just a few minutes more. Somebody was being rude and tried to wake her up. Kept rubbing her arms and poking other parts of her with something hard and smooth. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried to ignore distractions, tried to return to her dream, but it proved to be impossible when that somebody started kissing and nibbling the back of her neck.

She started to wake up slowly. He could smell the moment her body caught up what was happening. Scent of vanilla became tinged with arousal. Her mind was still partly wrapped up in a dream when her hand reached his hip and caressed him lightly.
“Good morning,” he whispered and gave her earlobe a lick. She shivered and arched her back, bucking against his cock. He slipped partly in, and they both gasped at the sudden invasion. He pulled out and soothed her side with his palm.
“Relax. We have time…” His words were cut short when she groaned and bucked again, taking him in.
“We have time. Now is the time for this…” She hissed and brought his hands to her breasts.

“Like this? Is this good?” He asked, thrusting deeper from behind. She moaned and grasped his hands, moving her hips in unison with him, meeting every thrust with her own. Her core was tight and slick around him, radiating heat. Her nipples rock hard peaks under his palms. He brought one hand down, cupping her mound and sliding a finger in, stroking her clitoris. Her hand flew to his hip, fingers grasping so hard they left a mark.

He turned on his back and brought her up with him, never breaking the contact. Her legs fell on both sides of his thighs, granting his hand a better access to the slick crevice. His other hand was still caressing her breasts.

He was drowning to her scent. Salty musk, shampoo, vanilla, chlorine. They were flooding his senses. It was beyond good. But something was missing.

She let out a whimper when he stopped and pushed her away from top of him. He turned her around, on her back and crawled between her knees.
“I want to see you. I want to look in to your eyes…” He whispered, sinking back in. Her legs wrapped around his waist, hands grasping his buttocks. He leaned closer and took her lips to a searing kiss.

Letting go is hard to do, but in the end it was surprisingly easy.
“Just let go… Come for me… Come with me…” He was whispering against her lips, eyes never breaking the contact. Tension had been building slowly, but release was swift. His throbbing cock buried inside of her, jerk of his hips. Small whimper against her lips and they were both falling.