On reflection, the second mistake was kissing her.

The first was going back to the fucking X-Men at all, but Logan knew better than to wonder about why he'd made that decision. Besides, more than just Rogue had been tied up in the things that led him back to New York, back to Professor Xavier, back to a neat little bedroom that had been cleaned and sanitized so well you'd never realize he'd stabbed a girl there.

But the second mistake--and the biggest--was kissing her.

---

It was beyond cold, so cold he was starting to wish he could get hypothermia because at least numbness wouldn't be as fucking miserable as being freezing. But Rogue wasn't immune to anything, and the arm around her shoulder was supposed to draw her against his body and give her the advantage of his body heat.

The curve of her hips, the sleek muscle, the way she shivered when his hands pulled her closer... it woke things inside him long left sleeping. It made him want.

He didn't want to want. He didn't want anything--and that was the fundamental facet of his personality that let him stay sane. Wanting made you weak. Wanting changed the balance of power.

Her body shivered against his, and he forgot about the balance of power. Just for a few moments--but a few moments were enough.

Enough. Too much.

So much that his fingers were rubbing slow deliberate patterns into her arm that meant things other than keeping her warm--and were obvious enough that even she could tell the difference.

She questioned his motives in a voice that held too little innocence, too little to stop the touching and before he knew it, his fingers were pressing harder and her body was molded to his and he half-wondered if this was what it felt like to be so close to death that control didn't matter.

It must be. He hardly heard her words--couldn't remember his reply. They were alone in the snow miles from help and the fact that he couldn't die didn't even matter. Instincts left facts behind as she twisted in his arms, looking up at him with eyes that held so little understanding.

Understanding came with the hot touches of lips on frozen skin, when he lingered too long and her skin warmed enough that the floodgate opened, and Rogue understood everything all too well.

---

Some part of him broke with her leg. He saw the ruin she'd made of it, the joint that might never work again. The stupid t-shirt she'd tied in strips around her knee had given little to no support, and she'd walked on it. The stubborn, stupid girl had walked on it.

It was too late to pretend he didn't care--they both knew otherwise. His fingers shook a little as he unwound the t-shirt, trying not to look as alarmed as he felt. It didn't matter in any case--a few probing touches and he had to catch Rogue before she could pass out and fall off the rock he'd perched her on.

"Ten minutes," he told her, and he ignored the look she gave him. "If they're not here in ten minutes, I'm touching you. You're not bleeding to death in fucking Illinois."

When the jet came seven minutes later, he was almost disappointed. He wanted to touch her--and maybe not just because of her knee and the mess she'd made of it. Logan admitted it to himself, because there was no point in denying it.

And no reason to. From the look in Rogue's eyes, not even facing life as a cripple was reason enough to let him touch her. He didn't need to protect her... she'd take care of that herself from now own.

The only person left to protect was himself... so he retreated behind his wall of rough competence, going so far as to yank Jean's medical kit away from her when her hands shook too much to do any good.

---

Jean had regained her composure--and her rage--long before Scott brought the jet back to rest at the mansion. Logan found himself shuffled aside, his attempts to follow Rogue into the lab blocked.

No one could block Logan for long, and it was proof of his emotional turmoil that he let himself be blocked at all. He needed the hours until evening to regain his balance, and to remind himself about the power that came with that balance... and the balance of power that had tipped out of his favor when he started wanting again.

He expected her to be confused... maybe even disgusted. What he hadn't expected from Rogue was anger. Not just anger, though she might not recognize the emotion in her eyes like he did--Rogue was furious. Enraged.

And he didn't have a fucking clue why.

She wasn't in the mood to enlighten him, and after a few short sentences, he obeyed her muttered command and left her alone in the silence of the medlab.

---

"You've got to convince her, Logan."

It was the third time today one of them had been after him, and he wasn't surprised that Jean had convinced other people to try to intervene with him before testing her anger against his.

Logan gave her the same steady look he'd given Scott an hour earlier. "She's not listening to me, Jean. I've already made that clear enough."

Jean didn't seem to hear the warning in his voice--or maybe she was too angry to care about pushing him. "What in hell happened out there?" Jean demanded, and he wondered if he'd ever heard her swear before. "Whatever it was... both of you need to get over it before you destroy that girl's life."

"How bad is it?" He was worried enough to ignore the insulting tone of her voice--and the look in her eyes was far from comforting.

"She may never walk again."

May never walk again. In the end, it was no choice. He'd pin her down and force himself on her, and she could spend the rest of her life hating him. In a way, it might be easier if she did.

But first he'd give her one more chance to see reason. One more chance to avoid the confrontation that would rip them both apart.

---

His second trip to the infirmary was worse than the first--worse because this time she told him the truth of how she'd taken everything she found in his head and twisted it. He'd always assumed she knew him better than anyone, but the bitter words they exchanged before he left her proved otherwise.

She didn't know him at all.

Maybe he would have touched her anyway, but he was too angry to risk it. No amount of fury could bring him to hurt Rogue, and sinking his anger and disappointment into her brain before he had it under control would hurt her more than whatever she had twisted up in her head to begin with.

So he turned.

And he left.

He never would have guessed that the next time he entered the lab, it would be because Rogue had asked for him.

---

He didn't let her provoke him, just set his hand on top of hers and let go of the world as he fell into her.

It never stopped hurting--

{does it hurt when they come out?}

--no matter how many times he touched her. But pain was immaterial when you couldn't die. The body's warning system, defunct in a man who didn't need a warning.

With her body taking everything that kept him alive, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he did need a warning system--if he tightened his fingers around her wrist, if he refused to let go--

{fuck, let go of the girl, let go}

--could she really kill him? Could she do what pain and torture and knives and bullets couldn't?

For a man who embraced pain like a lover, the temptation to tighten his fingers and see how far she could take him was almost impossible to resist.

Almost. Almost.

Rogue screamed, and Jean tore his hand away and he was on the floor, on his back, letting the pain wash over and through him.

Maybe it felt a little too good to be healthy, but he could pretend he was just relieved that she was alright.

For now.

---

Fatalistic.

It was the word she used to describe the way he felt, and in a way he was almost relieved that she hadn't used something stronger. Masochistic.

Suicidal.

It would be too easy to get lost in the release she offered--and not just the type that felt good, but the type that hurt and was infinitely more final. In a life where pain and uncertainty and confusion had made up his life, it was easier to have that final temptation firmly out of reach.

He wanted her, and wanting made him weak. But he loved her, and love made him strong enough to be what he had to be to keep them both safe.

Maybe it wasn't balanced, but he trusted her enough to share the power with her.