She had gotten up from the couch when doctor Jeffries had walked out from the operating room. Doctor had stopped her.
“Don’t go in there. I think… I think he needs a moment to… He needs to be alone now.” There had been bleeding gashes, three in a row on doctor’s cheek.
“How… What happened?” She asked, reaching tentatively towards the wounds. Jeffries didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back even though he knew about her mutation. She hadn’t touched him.
“Nothing happened. He’ll be alright. I’ll be going now. I think I’m the last person your… Your husband needs to see right now,” doctor had said and turned to leave.

Husband. Though everybody struggled to treat mutants as they were equal, nobody had referred to Logan as her husband before this. It wasn’t legal to marry a mutant.
“Doctor Jeffries?” She called after him. Man stopped and turned to look at her.
“Thank you.” Doctor flinched as if she had slapped him.
“You shouldn’t be thanking me.”

He steadied his breath and took a careful step towards the door. His knees were still wobbly, and his field of vision distorted, but he forced himself to stand upright. He wasn’t going to let the people outside see any signs of weakness. He was the Wolverine, The Destroyer, meanest, toughest fucker walking on the earth.

Marie was waiting for him. She glued herself to his side, offering support. He pushed her away.
“Not now…” He forced back nausea that was gnawing his stomach. Marie turned away, clearly hurt.
“Wait… Let me take your hand…” It wouldn’t do to stumble against objects. He grabbed her arm just above her elbow. Tried to appear as if he was escorting her rather than the other way around when they walked out.

She could feel him trembling from the effort it took to keep going. She moved closer and slid her hand around his waist, draping his hand around her shoulders. This time he let her do it, grabbing her hard.
“Not from there… We have to find another route…” Logan hissed when she turned them towards home. Shortest route would have taken them past training facilities and recruit’s barracks.
“Don’t be stupid. You can barely walk,” Marie admonished him. Logan shook his head.
“I don’t want them to see me like this… I don’t want anybody see me like this…”
“I see you,” she pointed out.
“It’s different… You already know you can take my head off anytime and anyway you like… They don’t have to get any ideas…”
“Logan, you’re just paranoid. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”
“I have done it myself… Easy to get rid of the people you don’t like… Just wait; there’ll come a moment when they’re weak… Nobody suspects anything… Heart failure, crazed enemy unit sneaking in and out, stumbling over sharp objects… Oh, look. There they come.”

Group of uniformed men and women were approaching from the barracks. Marie couldn’t recognize them, but it was obvious that Logan knew them. And they knew Logan. Some of them were quite obvious mutants, some probably human. Logan snarled and straightened his stance, letting go of her and standing on his own feet, head held high, hands clenched to loose fists on his side.
“Today’s day-off. Tomorrow we’ll return to normal training schedule!” His voice carried strong and coarse, more growl of an animal than actual words.
“We figured that much, Commander. But we were told you’d need more time to recover…” One of the recruits, red haired young man started. Logan grimaced and spat.
“I could take down your whole pathetic pack right now if I wanted. Day-off is for me to calm down so that at least few of you could survive through the training. Scoot! I don’t want to see your miserable faces before tomorrow morning!”
“Yes, sir, Commander Wolverine, sir!” Group scattered to all directions

“Weren’t you a little harsh?” Marie asked when Logan visibly paled and slumped against her. He had exhausted all his reserves with his little display.
“I have to be… One day I have to ask them to give everything… And they will have to obey, no questions asked… How the fuck… Could I expect that to happen if they don’t look up to me? They have to hate and fear me enough to do as I tell them to do even when… When they think it’s not wise…”
“But wouldn’t it be better if…”
“I know what I’m doing! …Shit…”
“Do you need to sit down?”
“Not now… Not here… Just take me home…”

He lay on the bed, shivering from exhaustion. Marie was in the kitchen, rummaging through closets and cupboards, looking for something. His hands were throbbing. They felt too big and swollen, skin stretched taut. Every time he moved his fingers he could feel the barrels of the lasers scraping against metal coating of his bones. Sound of it vibrated up his arms and echoed inside of his skull. Small, sharp grating noise. He’d have to learn to tune it out. But not now. He was too tired to think about anything, let alone learn new tricks and gimmicks. The stuff Jeffries had pumped in his veins did little in alleviating the pain, but it really messed up his head. Made him too tired to care.

Suddenly scent of honey surrounded him. He cracked his eyes open. Marie was sitting on the bed, his right hand on her lap. She was rubbing something on his skin, covering every inch of his arms from elbows to the tips of his fingers.
“I found this from the marketplace few weeks ago. Spent entirely too much for this. But I’m glad I did…” She said, rubbing his arm gently.

He could feel Wolverine hovering closer, suspicious, but more curious of what was happening than willing to come out to take care of the possible threat. He closed his eyes and let the beast get lost to his muddled, murky brain.

He’d always guarded the border of them two, the thin sharp line where beast ended and the man begun. Always on his toes, keeping the animal back. The Destroyer had always been too unstable and vicious to be able to interact with the world; war was the playground for it. He had hated the thing. Hated and feared it, because it didn’t belong. Didn’t belong to anywhere except the battle. The added weight of the crime Wolverine had committed to Marie, the ultimate violation had made Logan even more hateful and suspicious towards the beast. And he wasn’t willing to take the blame that would fall partially on him if he ever let the beast mingle with his mind.

“It’s okay… Just let go…”
“Huh?” His eyes fluttered open again.
“You can let go of me, I’m not going anywhere,” Marie promised, trying to pry his fingers off from around her wrist.
“Sorry…” He whispered and let go. He wasn’t. Not really. Wolverine wasn’t. It had been Wolverine grabbing her. Had to be, because Logan had no recollection of doing so.

“I have been thinking… Which one of you is leaving? Which one’s going to come back?” Marie asked, shuffling over to his left side and started lathering his arm with mixture of honey and beeswax.
“Which one?” Logan asked, pretending to be puzzled. He knew very well what she was talking about.
“You, or… Or Wolverine,” Marie clarified.
“Does it matter? We’re the same,” he finally spoke the truth, something he should have admitted long time ago.
“It matters. I want to be able to trust you. I don’t want to keep guessing with which I’m talking with. I don’t want to keep guessing with which I’m making love to. I need to know.”
“Do you trust me?” Logan asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you hate me?”
“Not all of you.”
“Will you hate me more if… If I take him in?”
“No.”

He closed his eyes and searched his mind for the beast. It was there, almost reluctant presence at the back, dormant now. He hated it. He needed it. It didn’t matter, he didn’t have to like it, but it was part of him, and it was time to accept it. Keeping a dual personality had kept him sane and safe for the most part of his life, but it was time to end it.
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