She’d known that he’d find her one day, she’d moved twice to avoid his attentions yet she knew that he’d find a way to get to her it was as inevitable as the changing seasons. She’d criss-crossed the country until she’d been drawn north to North Dakota, the diesel she’d taken from Xaviers years ago had been traded in for a tired old pick up. She’d always chosen cars that blended in with their surroundings, up here in the north she’d traded that pick up along with a thousand hard earned dollars into a semi decent Landrover.
She was working in a small department store; her area of expertise had become hardware, after having Logan hanging around in her head she’d finally decided to use what skills were still rattling around in there. Even Mags helped out occasionally, his knowledge of stresses and tensions of metals had come in handy over the last few months. Now she was no longer an oddity of the store, she was an asset seeing as most builders and workmen preferred to see a beautiful face instead of a sour one.
It had been on her break when someone had pointed out the large man leaving the store, the one who’d been asking about her. She never got to see the man’s face, only the sight of his back retreating quickly through shelves. She didn’t even get to see his clothes all that well either, but after all this time surely he wasn’t still looking for her was he?
The last letter she’d sent to Xaviers had gone via San Francisco; she’d set up the mail to do that. A private carrier would take the mail from the box she posted to and send it to the school every month. She didn’t always send stuff, but she’d sent some birthday cards and a little update letter to Xavier, she never mentioned places, names or the countryside around her just in case Logan got hold of it.
Xavier had told her about Logan’s quest to find her and the reason behind it; she’d been dismissive, telling him and herself that he’d give up eventually. That he’d find something else to fill his time but as yet Xavier hadn’t told her anything about him stopping, Logan went on missions, went to help other groups of mutants out in the world but he never stopped looking for her. When they’d finished with him he just asked them to drop him off at the place they’d picked him up and he carried on looking. The thought of an old hound tracking it’s master across the country came to mind when she thought about it. But she hadn’t until someone had been asking after her. Now she felt as if her time had just run out, the feeling of fear filling her but an odd kind of excitement too, if it was him she’d have to remember not to run upto him.
After work her usual routine was to go to the small diner on the corner, share a cup of coffee with the locals, talk about nothing in particular and just share the evening. She’d give it a miss tonight, passing the large window she got a wave from Shirley, as she carried on the door of the diner opened. The small tinkle of the bell above the door colouring the air as the scented form of Shirley came out. “Mary honey, wait up.” Shirley called her Mary after a confusion over her name when she’d first gotten here and it had stuck; she was Mary here and always would be. Turning round she saw the little plump woman clutching a piece of paper in her hand with an excited grin on her face, eyes sparkling she held it out to her gloved hand.
“Here this was dropped off for you honey, a tall dark and handsome dropped it in this afternoon.” Taking the offered paper she looked at the battered envelope, it had been carried a long time, even the name on the front had been smudged several times. It was something she knew he’d carried just for her, a letter, whatever was inside it would have to wait until she was home because at the moment she felt as if she was seventeen again. Just touching the surface of it brought the warmth of his scent back to her nose, Shirley was speaking to her and she found it hard to concentrate on the words.
“He just came in, asked for me and slid this over the counter. He said you’d understand what it was about. So you gonna share honey, who is this walking hunk of manhood with your name on his lips?”
Looking into Shirley’s happy face and eyes she just smiled and put the envelope in her pocket.
“He’s an old friend of my husband, he said he’d catch up with me eventually. Looks like he has at long last.” She’d told Shirley she was a widow, that she'd married young and they’d moved around following work.
Her husband Bobby had been killed in a wreck, the lie solved a few problems for her, why she liked to be alone, why she didn’t like people touching her or crowding her personal space. It also helped for the things she sometimes lets slip, telling people she’d worked on construction sites covered most of the engineering stuff Magneto knew. Hell she’d only just avoided being a contractor herself last year.
Shirley broke her silence, “You ought to catch up with him honey, I’m not as young as I used to be and there’s a few things I regret now I’m older. If there’s a chance at being happy for you girl grab it and don’t let go, not everyone’s life has to be nine to five.” The door of the diner rang open and a male voice shouted toward them, “Hey Shirley get your ass in here and serve, I don’t pay you to talk.” Shirley turned round her face instantly sweet and vacant, her words on the other hand were filled with acid. “Of course darlin, I’ll be there as soon as you clean the grease trap you keep telling the health board you’ll finish.” The verbal battle over the short order cook went back inside, hiding her smirk Marie said her goodbyes to Shirley and walked the rest of the distance home. The weight of the letter in her pocket slowing her down as if it had been made of adamantium. Now she knew it had been him and he’d found her and nothing would stop him from seeing her if he wanted to. Fishing out her keys from her pocket she let herself into the building, the small apartment block was clean and tidy, not overly fussy and it was private. She liked living here, she only hoped she’d be staying here instead of moving on again, a determination filled her then she wasn’t going to be the one who left here, he would. She’d found a home at last, this time it would be his turn to leave.
He’d tracked her over half the country, well it seemed like it, he’d just get himself a good lead and he’d be contacted again. Something only he could do, so he’d been picked up and kept to his word. Six years of this, of following half remembered leads, wandering around almost finding her once. Getting to the house she’d lived in, only to be told she’d moved out three months earlier. He’d gone in, found a glove and the remains of some soap dropped behind the bath, he’d kept them both, the scent of her was still on the glove even after three years. He never gave up the hope of finding her again, he knew people at the mansion got things from her occasionally, thing was he never went home anymore. He just searched in between missions, wandering the roads, asking at diners and truck stops for her. It was a life of sorts, but it was something he had to do, he couldn’t live without seeing her again; getting that night sorted out in his head and hers. He wasn’t living, he was existing for one goal and that was seeing her again, the letter he’d written just in case he saw her, he could leave it at her door so she could decide whether or not to see him. He asked her to leave a mug in the window if he was welcome, if not to leave nothing but space.
The mission he’d just finished had meant taking kids back to the school; they’d been put in some kind of experiment, a pharmaceutical company had been testing their abilities. Xavier had been there to welcome them home this time, he’d been expecting just to go straight back out again but Scott had needed to rest after the extended flight. So he’d been waiting in the rec room when Xavier had silently wheeled in, he didn’t say anything to him he’d just handed him a letter. One from Marie, the scent of her was all over it, reading the words avidly, he’d gleaned enough about her life to know she was settled and fine. Yet, there was stiltedness to her words, a flatness that he couldn’t put his finger on until Xavier had spoken it for him, “It’s time don’t you think?”
Logan’s eyes had almost started out of his head at those words and the image of a signpost was put into his skull, along with co-ordinates. He didn’t even thank him he left that fast, stealing a bike he made good time, going north through Canada instead of the U.S. In a week he was there, the small town Marie had made her home. Recognising the places, she’d written about to Xavier he decided to keep a low profile camping out in the woods at the edge of town. He didn’t want to spook her, making her run again for all he knew she still didn’t want to see him but he needed to see her.
Three days of watching had finally given him her routine; she left at 6.30am for work, stopped by the small diner for coffee on the way, waited for the shop to open at 7.30am and left at 6pm. Stopping in the diner after work to eat and smile, he noticed the way everyone kept their distance from her and it made him wonder if they knew she was a mutant. Although she did keep most of herself covered up, long sleeves, thin leather gloves and jeans, the store she worked in he’d yet to go into. He made his mind up that he’d do that the next day, after he’d dropped the letter into the diner. First, he had to check into a motel, he wasn’t going to meet her after all this time smelling like a rancid polecat.
Clean shaven, washed and dressed in his best he’d walked into the diner, the plump waitress, ‘Shirley’ her name tag read he’d asked about her without giving specifics and handed the letter over. He’d walked out of there more nervous than he’d ever been, what if she didn’t want to see him, what if she didn’t get the letter? It was then he decided to go into the store, he’d gauge her state of mind from that, if they didn’t give her the letter he could always risk it after seeing her for himself.
The small store was sectioned off into areas, at first he headed for the clothing department thinking she’d be working there. Yet when he got there, there was no sign or scent of her, he knew she worked there when a man carrying a piece of timber passed him. His scent was mixed with Marie’s, snapping his head round to see Marie heading off through a door leading into the back of the store. She was in the hardware department, figured really, he’d been doing odd jobs most of his long life and there wasn’t much he didn’t know about building a house. He was glad she’d managed to use some of the nicer things in his personality, the other person serving at the trade counter was just finishing when he walked over. Making sure she wouldn’t appear just yet, he didn’t want to spook her, the fresh faced young man gave him a quick assessment before speaking. “Yes sir what can I help you with?” Clearing his throat, his mind decided to go for honesty.
“You have a girl working here called Marie?” The young man’s face showed a little concern at the question but he answered the question.
“Yes we do sir, why has she sold you something defective?” He was about to answer when he caught the sound of her feet coming back, the slow easy measured step he’d grown to recognise over the last few days of watching her. He didn’t even answer the young man, he just pushed away from the counter and left the store, his ears picking up the sound of her voice just as he got to the doors. His heart was trip hammering as he walked away down the small street, he’d almost seen her face to face and he wasn’t ready for that, not yet. His feet had found a bar and he’d stayed there until the sun had set and the stars had lodged themselves in the dark.
The first signs of autumn were showing themselves when he left the bar, breath fogging he set his feet toward her home, everything resting on the waitress he’d seen earlier. With the piece of paper he’d been carrying with him for years, hoping she’d understand what he was trying to say to her, that she’d let him inside. Looking at the pole star he sent out a silent hope, the lynch pin of the sky that never changed, like him in some ways. Everything around him changed and wheeled around but he never changed. He’d watched Cyclops and Jean getting married, have a kid who was now running round the school. Everything had changed but him, even Marie had gone on, gotten a life for herself and he was here again to try to explain his own part in her running away. After this he didn’t know what he’d do, all he knew was that this would change things, hopefully for the better.
The envelope almost collapsed when she opened it, the paper inside was covered with small neat handwriting, it filled the entire page, both sides. But it was the envelope that made her stop, inside the lip was a drawing, a picture of her. Done with a soft pencil, the lines aged and softened, it was her under the tree in the garden, her face down looking at the books scattered around her. Every line was precise, as if he’d just taken the memory and pasted it there; she could feel the bark of the tree on her back as she looked at it. Moving under the light of the kitchen table, she saw the first line of the letter, the script small and neat. ‘If you’re reading this then I’m around, if you want to see me put a mug in the window, if you don’t then just please read this that’s all I ask.’
Without thinking about it she placed the delicate letter down on the table and opened the cupboard above the sink. Filling her hands with mugs she went around the house, tears flowing from her as she put a mug in every single window she had. Making sure the lights were on in every room, even angling one so the light was behind the mug, so he couldn’t miss it. After she’d done it, she unlocked the front and back door, even leaving a window open for him. Wiping her tears away, she settled back down to the letter, the small neat words drawing her in, the regimented size and delicacy shocking her a little. That he could’ve written this for her and kept it so long, just in case he ever caught up with her. Eyes scanning the page she went back to the beginning and started the rest of the letter, keeping her eyes clear of tears with her sleeve.
‘I’m not going to waste words on saying how sorry I am, you already know that, Xavier told you what I did every time I woke up. He kept me under for four months until they thought I could handle things again, I didn’t do too well though. I left the school for a while, couldn’t even face being in there to be honest. You were still there; I’d catch your scent somewhere and I’d go chasing round like a lunatic trying to find you. I upset plenty of people doing that.
So I left, went south at first, saw your hometown and I understand why you left now. It’s no place for a mutant these days, lets just say I got out with a few bruises and leave it at that. I saw your parents, I didn’t talk to them Marie, I’d never do that to you. Didn’t think they’d appreciate someone like me asking after you, I have to admit I was a bit of a mess then. I just watched them long enough to see if you were there, when it was certain you weren’t I left. Went back on the road searching for a sign of you, you see I’ve got to tell you something, something I never got to tell you before you left.’
Hands shaking she put the letter down, he’d been to see her family; he went across country to see if she’d gone home. She’d thought about it at first but she hadn’t gone, she’d known he’d go there first to look for her and she’d been right. Tears clouded her vision as she imagined him watching her parents house, outside in the rain, hoping to catch a glimpse of her if she’d been there. Her voice sounded old to her when she spoke to the silent kitchen, the emotion loaded in it as she realised how much she’d managed to hurt him by losing herself.
“Oh Logan, Ah’m sorry honey, Ah’m so sorry.” Her eyes burned as she wiped the tears away determined to finish the letter he’d carried all this time, the scent of him imprinted in every letter and word.
Outside under the shade of a maple Logan watched the apartment, every single light was on and in every window corner was a mug. Even a lamp had been moved to illuminate a mug in the upstairs window, the shadow of it landing in the street. She’d read the letter he just hoped the enthusiasm to see him wasn’t a bad thing, he’d only asked for one mug, she’d given him nearly ten and in every single window she had. Taking his pride in his hands, he walked out of the shadows toward the brilliant apartment.
‘Jean told me to write this, she said it’d help me to organise my thoughts. I fought her for a while but she was right, it has helped me a little but not in the way I wanted it to. I wanted to tell you how much you mean to me but it seemed so empty on here, so cold, so indifferent and that’s not something I ever wanted you to feel Marie. Not from me, so I’ll tell you most of it when you hopefully see me.’ She turned the page over in her hands, the words pulling her eyes along each delicately crafted line.
‘When we got back from Liberty Island I had to keep you at a distance, I couldn’t be near you. You know why now, what I did has no excuses, it has no apology that could ever take away the pain or the fear I put in you and for that I don’t expect you to ever want to see me again. Just that I need to settle things between us, Xavier told me why you left first. That you wanted to give me a home, a place I could be. Thing was the only thing I’d ever wanted there was you, after you left it wasn’t home anymore.
When you first had my nightmares, the first night you asked me to hold you, that was when I lost the fight. I should’ve gone that night but I couldn’t you needed me there and after that all I could do was avoid being alone with you. It’s not your fault Marie, it never was, its mine. When I gave you my strength on the top of the torch, I didn’t think about what or should it be ‘who’ I was giving to you. You took all of me that night, so you could say it was my fault, I never got the chance to tell you about that side of me, the darkness, the Wolverine. I’ve had him inside so long I never even think about him anymore, I just hope you can forgive me for doing that to you. For giving you something that could’ve killed you, hurt you worse than I ever could and for that I truly am sorry Marie. I don’t expect you to believe me, hell I wouldn’t believe me if the roles were reversed but I am and I wish I could be someone different but I can’t. I’m stuck with him as much as he’s stuck with me, over the last two years we’ve come to understand each other a little better, I just hope you have too.’
The journey she’d taken across the country had been difficult for her and she had to admit that Wolverine had made life a little difficult at times but she’d coped with him. He’d even helped her out of a few bad situations, by using the things he knew, not letting him out of the tank she had him in. She’d learned control from him; she’d used him to get control over her mind as well as her skin. She didn’t stop using her long sleeves and gloves it was just an extra precaution for the people around her, they didn’t deserve to be hurt because her concentration had slipped for a second. All the evenings she’d spent inside her head, working on the techniques she’d gleaned from The Professor. The breakthrough coming when she’d realised exactly where the emotional switch had been and who was in control of it, Wolverine had shown her the way by opening the door to it. The fear she’d felt at being touched by someone, the adrenaline rush and the start of her power protecting her from the touch. By controlling her fear she could control her skin, like the day she’d thrown Wolverine off her, she always called him that, it hadn’t been Logan, it had been Wolverine and they were two different people. Problem was that they lived in the same body that’s all.
The back door was unlocked; he could see the light of the kitchen unbroken through the gap between the doorframe and the door. Without looking through the window he just stepped up to the door and opened it, eyes closed and hoping that she’d understand what he’d written all those years ago.
Opening his eyes to the sight of the small kitchen, Marie sat there with her back to him, the letter still held in her hands. The white of her streaks being illuminated by the light above, imprinting everything about her before he broke the moment by shutting the door. Her voice smooth and calm wound into his ears, the tone easing a hurt he hadn’t even realised he’d been carrying. “Shut the door Logan, you’ll let all the heat out.”
He did as he was told and walked around the table to the empty chair opposite her own, not daring to look at her until he was seated, the wooden table showing signs of use. The picture of her laid out on it’s surface, the memory of doing it opening in his head. Of being alone in a motel somewhere in Oregon, the only thing keeping him going was finding her and he’d drawn the picture on the lip of the envelope. Taking all night to do it, he’d left feeling better, more solid in himself, he’d been picked up the same day by Storm for a job in Brazil. Coming back a week later and setting out again, a little more hopeful than before.
Dragging his eyes up slowly Logan took in everything about her he could, she’d grown up, filled out and she looked wonderful. His eyes roving over her, the burning sensation in the backs of his eyeballs making him blink, he watched her face change from blank to concerned and then she was rising out of the chair across from him. His mind shouting that she was leaving, that he had to stop her, yet he couldn’t move, couldn’t reach out to her to stop her from leaving him alone.
When she moved toward him, her ungloved hands touching his hair and pulling him into her stomach, holding him to her clothed body he felt everything break. All the waiting, all the pain, all the nights of being awake reliving what he’d done to her, drop away. All that mattered was now, that she was here and she was holding him, a shudder wracked his frame and he let it go. Crying like a new born Logan held onto her, he’d found his saviour he just hoped she wouldn’t turn him away when the dawn came and showed her the truth of him.
When he’d first come in she’d found it hard to speak never mind look at him but she forced herself to. Taking in the air of him, the unchanging shape and the battered clothing, it had been his face though that had given her cause for alarm. Physically he might not have differed much from her memory but the look in his eyes was one she’d never thought she’d see again. Pain, pain so deep and long lasting that it had aged him, put years in his gaze that he hadn’t earned. Even his movements were different as if he expected her to throw him out any moment, to attack him without a word, to hate him.
She’d planned to sit there and listen to him talk, listen to his reasons and then let him go back to whatever he was doing. She hadn’t asked much about him when she had talked to Xavier or anyone else, it was if they’d avoided the subject when talking to her.
Realising what she’d done by closing off that part of her life, by shutting him out, he was a part of her yes and it was only now that she’d wondered if she had been a part of him. Moving out of her chair she saw his fear rise, thinking she was leaving him, to get him so close to his goal and spitefully deny him. Making him hurt like he thought he had made her hurt, that was never her intention.
Her bare hands wound into his thick hair, fingertips passing over slight ridges she knew were scars as she pulled him into her. Feeling him reach out and grab hold of her as if she was the last solid thing in the world, which for him she must have been. Her own emotions were shredding her heart wide open as he cried into her shirt, that she’d reduced him to this, he’d been existing for six years. The only thing keeping him going had been finding her and telling her how he felt about that night, the night that had solidified everything for her. Now they had another and after this, everything would be different.
They’d gone into the large space that covered as the dining and living room; the wall had been knocked through to give more light and space to the low ceiling apartment. Sat at either end of her sofa, their fingers playing with each others between them both, Logan just amazed to be even sat here with her never mind touching her skin. He’d let go of her after a few moments, the tears gone, his breathing still heavy but the look in his eyes a little lighter. She’d seen the hope in his gaze, the need shining out of him to be able to touch her, let her feel something other than fabric on her skin. She’d wiped away his tears with her fingers, marvelling at the colour that followed her fingers across his skin. His arms tightening around her for just a second before letting her go.
That’s when she’d moved them both into the main room, now they were sat in a silence neither of them wanted to break just in case they got it wrong. Logan broke first, his patience never very long. “So when did you…” he nodded to her bare hands, seeing her follow his eyes to her delicate fingers.
“About eighteen months ago, just after Ah got here.” Her eyes met his and she could see the pain rising again in his gaze, that she’d told everyone else and hadn’t thought about him. “No one back at the school knows, Ah’ve kept it to myself,” the statement stilled his fingers on her skin, the question inside them obvious to her. “They don’t need to know, it’s not important to them. Not as it is to me.” Logan picked up on what she wasn’t saying, that it was also important whom she told, that it should be someone who cared enough about her to understand how much it meant to her. She hadn’t been close to anyone back home for nearly five years.
“How?” His voice was calm and his movements on her skin slow and tender, just touching the backs of her hands, stroking them like silk marvelling at the softness of them.
“You helped actually, that night helped as well.” His face went from relaxed to tense in the space of a heartbeat, letting go of her hands he was moving away from her when she grabbed his hand in hers. Twining her fingers with his and holding him still, her gaze locking onto his own, seeing the self loathing clear in his eyes. “It wasn’t all bad Logan, ah wanted you to be there so ah have to take half the blame. It wasn’t just you, it was me as well.” She could see by the set of his shoulders he was annoyed at her, the way his breathing increased she was sure he was about to start shouting when she beat him to the punch.
“If you’re going to start saying Ah didn’t know what ah was getting into your wrong. Ah had Wolverine inside mah head remember, he was there long before you made your move. He was with me for nearly five months making love to me every night, in every way he could think of and not all of it was nice and gentle Logan. Thing was ah wanted it, ah needed it and he gave me everything ah wanted, except ah thought ah’d had some control over him inside my head. Outside…well we both know what happened, so there’s nothing to really apologise for Logan. Ah was calling you because ah wanted you, even my body got in on the act.” Logan looked confused and his silence made Marie fill it up with her thoughts, “Ever wondered why ah didn’t just zap you dry that night?”
She could see him beginning to work it out for himself, going back through the memory, his mind latching onto the information, his eyes meeting hers as she spoke again. “Yeah ah know, ah wondered about it for a long time until ah finally realised. Ah wanted you to, ah wanted you to touch me like that, ah had control over it for the first time ever and you gave me the clue. If you hadn’t have touched me Logan ah’d probably still have no control over it, no matter how much time ah spent with The Professor. You gave me the key Logan, you did.” Her voice softened as she squeezed his hand with her own, trying to get him to see what had happened as something good, something that had given her the clue she’d been trying to figure out since she entered into her ‘inheritance’.
Logan had a glassy quality to his gaze when he spoke to her, the quaver in his voice something she’d never heard from him. Knowing it was fear, fear of her, that his words would cause her more pain that she’d throw him out of her life again like she had before. “Do you hate me?”
The question reached to the heart of it, the core of the problem, that he believed she hated him, hated what he was, what he couldn’t change about himself. It had been Wolverine that had seduced her, showing her the delights of touch in her mind, using the things he’d done on women before her. Showing her the pleasure inside its embrace, the feel of skin on her own, making her want it in reality, pushing her buttons which in return pushed Logan’s own. Wolverine had seen her as his, as his property to do with as he pleased, Logan saw her as she was, a vulnerable young woman with too many people already in her head.
She’d seen herself as an amalgam of the three of them, of herself, Marie the southern girl with dreams, Logan practical honourable and lonely and Wolverine angry at the world, frustrated and violent. Magneto was just a faded memory now, his powers long gone from her mind, but Logan hadn’t really faded, he’d just retreated.
Hiding in her mind, coming out only when she was alone or when she’d been watching the Stanley Cup final in the local bar last year. Her urge for a cigar had had her standing next to the local football team for the entire match; just breathing in the soft curls of smoke that came from them. She’d drunk nothing but whiskey and Molson that night, knowing exactly who was in there with her, yet she didn’t begrudge him these small moments. The rest of the time it was as if he wasn’t there at all. Wolverine was locked up tight and she’d kept him that way, using his memories but not his powers, not his rage.
That part of him she hoped she’d never have to use again, she’d had to once on the road to Helena Arkansas. Her truck had sprung a leak and she was fixing it when two men in a semi had stopped to help her, they’d seemed okay at first but her senses had been screaming at her. Trying to keep them both in front of her at once had been impossible and she’d been grabbed from behind. She wasn’t a match for them in size but she had someone inside her who was and she’s opened the link in her mind. Freeing the information, the rage to flow through her instead of being lost in it, her body was covered entirely so her skin wasn’t an option. But the wrench in her hand was, she’d brought it up into the crotch of the man coming toward her, stamping down hard on the trainer clad feet of her aggressor. She wore heels, three inch ones, enough to break a bone or two and wiggle out of the grip on her arms. She’d swung the wrench upward at the mans falling face, a savage glee filling her as she heard the bone of his jaw snap. Adding a backhanded swipe to his skull just to be sure, the other man had hobbled away to the semi, throwing it into drive and getting the hell away. She’d hog tied the unconscious man after relieving him of his wallet, emptying it of cash she’d dropped it back on his body. Finishing her repair, she’d gone on, finally telephoning in the place he could be found to the local police when she was nearly a hundred miles away.
Wolverine had liked her using his skills, the urge to kill the man had been strong, almost too strong, she’d forgotten how seductive he could be. The release he gave, the ability to just let go and destroy, to tear into the flesh of your enemy and laugh while they died in front of you. No remorse, no feeling, just cool calm rage that burned through the blood like fire. She could’ve killed him so very easily and that was what had disturbed her, that she could snuff out a life without any thought. She’d been raised a Southern Baptist, that all life was sacred, even the lowest of the low could find redemption in god’s grace. Yet she was capable of killing someone with no compunction at all, after that she’d locked him down even further inside her head. Wolverine wasn’t noticed or used by her, his instincts for trouble had saved her on more than one occasion but except for that he was banished from her mind. He was a part of her but she has the choice of whether to use him or not just like Logan does, that kind of power can warp you, turn you into a creature like Sabretooth. Yet Logan wasn’t, he was completely different; he’d cared enough about her to risk everything to save her. So in her mind Logan and Wolverine were two separate people entirely, seeing his fear reflected in her own silence she answered him.
“Hate you Logan, no, never.” His discomfort wasn’t gone as he sensed there was more to come. “Wolverine? Hate is a strong word Logan, ah don’t ‘hate’ him but ah don’t like him either. He’s a necessary evil Logan, one ah’ve had to use myself over the years ah’ve been away from everyone.”
“What do you…”
“Now just give me a minute here and ah’ll explain.” Pulling herself closer to him by his hand so she was resting her knees against his own, arms touching now, close enough for him to raise a hand to her face tracing her features with callused fingers. “Ah had to Logan, ah had no other choice. That’s what Wolverine is Logan, he’s your survival mechanism, he keeps you alive when you really have to. It’s not nice and it’s not pleasant but he’s needed Logan, you’d be dead several times over if he weren’t there. We both know that.” He was silent for a while, his face unreadable. When he did finally speak it was softly almost a whisper.
“So you don’t hate me? For what I did to you, what he did to you?” The gaze that met her own reminded her of a child looking for hope, seeing it in the scared faces of the kids that had come in the months she’d been at the school. They always expected someone to take the nice thing away from them, letting them down again, putting them back out on the streets. She was looking at the same thing in Logan’s eyes and it made her heart stutter, almost tripping over the words as her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled herself into his lap.
“No, never. Not for a moment.”
“So why did you leave?” Her eyes dropped to his lips and then rose to look into his eyes, knowing he wanted the truth.
“Because if ah hadn’t Logan, you would’ve and they needed you more than they needed me.” She watched his eyes deaden as he listened, the same answer she’d given The Professor wasn’t the one he wanted to hear, he’d wanted to hear *her* reason for leaving *him*. Swallowing her nerves she carried on, “Ah left because ah’d have hurt you by staying. Ah saw the marks Logan, on mah doorframe. Ah knew they were yours and it didn’t take me long to figure it out, one day ah’d make you come to me and you’d lose control again. Ah’d be alright eventually but you, you’d never recover from it Logan, you nearly didn’t from this and you didn’t actually do anything to me. Not anything ah hadn’t asked for anyway, remember?”
“Marie I…” he paused for a moment and she stayed completely still in his grip, feeling his hands slide around her back. His face showing his confusion, of wanting to touch her as the adult she was and the need to know it was alright for him to want her.
“What?”
“I didn’t come all this way to just…to just start where I left off last time.”
“Ah know that.”
“But how can you stand to have me touch you when…when what happened last time. I nearly…. Hell I wanted to fuck you Marie, take you, own you, devour you.” The last two words whispered into her skin as he pulled her closer, gently she raised his head to see her smiling at him.
“Because it is you, Logan. Not Wolverine that’s why.” Stroking his cheek with her bare fingers before placing a small kiss where her fingers had touched. “Because ah don’t let anyone else get close to me Logan, no one not even after leaving the school. Ah’ve been alone all of mah time away, and besides you’re a part of me Logan and if ah begin to hate it ah begin to hate myself. An that’s something ah’ll never do.” Seeing his own face soften as she spoke, the fear losing ground and his warmth beginning to return to his gaze. “You’d never hurt me Logan, you gave me everything you had and in return all ah ever gave you was pain. Ah’m the one who should be asking for forgiveness Logan not you.”
His head was shaking when he pulled her into his grip, making her rest her head on his shoulder as he rocked back and forth with her in his lap. Silent he just held her, her own hands lost on his back revelling in the touch she’d denied herself, knowing that if she lost concentration Logan could recover. Feeling his breath over her skin, the weight of his arms around her, the solidness of him under her fingers, a weight being removed from her own chest as he held her. Feeling his wounds heal the longer he held her, her head dropping to the side as tiredness finally caught up with her. Falling asleep on him, as he gently moved her with her hands wrapped around his middle, laid out on the couch together, her head coming to rest over his heart. The beat comforting her, letting her lose some of the loneliness she’d felt for the last few years. He was here with her and that was all that mattered, she’d told him the truth, of how she saw it and he’d understood. Tomorrow was another country, tonight wasn’t over yet.
A miracle, that’s all it could be one that he really didn’t think he deserved but here it was. Marie, laid in his arms, her tired frame resting on his own weary bones, they hadn’t talked much dragging each word out of himself had taken nearly everything he’d had. Tomorrow he knew he’d have to be honest with her, tell her what had happened to him to make him like this. She’d seen his dreams, experienced them for herself but it wasn’t the reason for him needing her that night. He’d needed her from the moment he’d seen her in Laughlin, from the moment he’d latched onto her scared gaze hoping for someone to come and help her.
Tightening his grip on her waist, he had a swift look around the room, what he could see from his position. There were plenty of books around, three wooden shelves held most of them, some were textbooks, their corners battered and the pages well thumbed. The school’s library marks still on their spines, probably still in her bag from class when she took off that day. Novels filled half of one shelf, no romance to be seen, judging by the titles, mainly travelogues by the looks of things. The top shelf held manuals, car, mechanics, carpentry, 1001 handy home hints, a few cookery books, even a battered copy of ‘Food for Free – a Naturalists guide to wild foods’. A tired desk was under the bookshelf, the leather on the surface pitted and scarred by years of use. He noticed the stack of paper and envelopes nearby, the small pot of pens and pencils on the far edge. Her place of writing, the source of the letters that came sporadically to the rest of the schools residents, he’d never even asked about her writing home. He’d been too busy searching for her, had made it the central core of his life, but looking around the small apartment, he could see she’d made a life for herself here. He wasn’t a part of it, he was a memory, one linked to the pain and hurt he’d forced on her no matter what spin she put on it. It’s not that he didn’t believe her about her using that night to find control over her mutation, it’s just that he couldn’t get past it. He had to know how she was emotionally, she’d said she hadn’t let anyone near her even though she could touch now. Was that through choice or had she tried and had to back off because of the damage he’d done to her? Dropping his head back to the sofa arm, his eyes travelled up to the pale ceiling, finally closing after an hour of listening to her steady breathing and feeling her warmth settle into his bones.
Warmth, she was warm, too warm, pushing against the cover she tried to make it move, her hands meeting solid flesh under her palms. Snapping her awake faster than a cold shower she checked if the person she was lying on was okay. Her eyes took in the sleeping face of Logan; some of the lines she’d put there had softened. He looked like he had the day she’d gone, only happier, moving slowly she shifted out of his grip catching sight of the clock on the mantle piece. Two-fifteen in the morning, a cool breeze was running through the apartment from the open window. Shuffling over she shut and locked it, going to both doors and doing the same finally picking up the mugs, she’d put in the windows. Concentrating on not dropping any she didn’t see him wake up and watch her take them into the kitchen, when she came back out he was sat on the edge of the sofa. His face was tired but his eyes had some of their old spark back, their hazel reaching out to her making her smile. “Hey, you okay?” He just nodded before running his hand through his hair, a sigh dropping to the floor as he pushed up off the sofa.
“I’d better go.” An irrational panic flooded through her for a second when the words left his mouth, he must have seen it as he added, “Can I see you tomorrow?” Wrapping her arms around herself to hide her own nerves, she smiled.
“Sure, how about after work? Ah’ll be finished at four tomorrow, ah’ll cook.” He looked a little surprised at that and she felt the need to defend herself, “Hey ah’ve not been living on take out you know. Take out’s expensive, home cookin’ isn’t.” He moved towards her and she felt herself move backward out of reflex, she’d let him inside so quickly, that she was now feeling vulnerable. As if she was still seventeen and asking for the impossible from him again, the light had died in him a little when she’d moved back from him. His tone completely empty when he spoke again, his body language telling her of his discomfort.
“You’d better unlock unless you want me here all night.” His eyes had met hers for a second, the message inside them uncertain but the need was acute, he needed her.
She had a choice, she could let him go back to wherever he was staying or she could let him stay here on her couch. Looking at the scene outside the window, the wind blowing leaves down the lonely street the words were out before she’d even realised it. “You’re staying aren’t you? Ah mean that is if you want to, ah just meant ah’d be back here at four.” She’d had the irrational fear that if she let him go out of that door tonight she’d never see him again, no one would. When she found his eyes again she had that fear confirmed, he’d have walked out of her life and never troubled her or anyone again. Moving toward him she snaked out a hand and touched his arm, the small shudder that ran through him at her touch on him was visible, as was the relief in his gaze. “Ah’ll bring you some blankets.”
He watched her walk away to her bedroom upstairs, listening to her quiet footfalls and the creaking of the floor above him. Shrugging off the winter coats he’d had on, revealing the shirt underneath, old and comforting. When he turned back round she was there holding a comforter, the smell of it wafting over to him. He recognised it, it was the one she’d had on her bed at the school, Storm had given it to her the first month she’d been there. Seeing him recognise it she smoothed the comforter down before putting it on the sofa, “Storm sent it by carrier for me when ah was in Helena. It kept me warm a few lonely nights ah can tell you.” There were tears just starting and she made her escape quickly, her voice drifting to him as she went back upstairs. “Ah’d better get to bed, ah’m up at 6. Just help yourself to whatever’s around Logan, ah’ll try not to wake you in the morning.”
She left him there, stood in her home, surrounded by her life his mind whirring with the thought of her sleeping above him. It was then his eyes caught the bottom shelf of the bookcase, several leather bound journals stacked next to each other, different colours and different sizes. They drew him; his hand had one open even before his mind had caught up, words, pictures, ideas, fragments and cut-outs pasted on the paper. It was her mind, flicking through the small journal he saw images of terror mingled with indescribable beauty, the dichotomy counterbalanced by her words written beneath or over them. Her mind fragmented, pulled together by these journals, healed by the action of putting them together. By understanding why she put the images together, why that particular pattern and not something else. His hand stopped on one page near the back, a photograph of a man crying on his knees. The world around him still going on, cars still passing him by, the photographer capturing a moment of suffering, complete in every way. The tiny handwriting next to it rewritten countless times overlaid by her hand many, many times. Reading it he felt his heart lurch, ‘I didn’t mean to hurt him, I didn’t but if I’m there I’ll kill him. I can’t go back.’ The next page was unrelated as was the next but the page itself had been turned back to many times, the spine told him that. She’d reminded herself why she was doing it, why she couldn’t go home, why she couldn’t be near him because of what she’d made him do. Closing the journal he replaced it and plucked another from the shelf, settling down on the sofa he flicked through her mind, while she slept above him.
Work wasn’t much of a distraction; there were questions as she thought there would be, several people asking her whom the man was that had been asking after her. She’d answered the best she could; fending off Shirley had been the hardest part when she’d walked into the diner that morning.
She’d looked like she hadn’t slept for a week, having nightmares did that to you, especially the ones she’d shared with Logan. She hadn’t had them for nearly a year, they usually troubled her sleep when she was upset or stressed out. It seemed having Logan around had gotten to her more than she’d been ready to admit to. Shirley had asked her if her man had been in touch with her and where was he? She hadn’t answered just sitting down in a booth instead of her usual place at the counter, resting herself against the solid wood.
Shirley had brought her mug and plate over, the slow custom allowing her to spend some time with her until her own work opened.
“So honey, was he worth the wait?” Shirley was all smiles but there was a hope for her lodged in her eyes, ever since she’d walked through the diners door Shirley had been trying to fix her life in the nicest way of course. Looking at the plump little woman and seeing her good intentions for once, Marie answered her. “Yeah Shirley, he is. He always was, it’s just me who forgot about him.” Tears were glittering and Shirley just patted her covered hand.
“Never mind about yesterday hon, he’s here now that’s what matters. It’s what you do when they’re with you that counts.” Shirley heard the door open to bring her the first morning rush. “I’ll speak to you later hon, I gotta feed the crowds.” Her voice became the usual banter she shared with the local timber workers; their deep voices filling the space Marie had tried to keep clear. Looking over and seeing the dark work shirts reminding her of the one Logan was wearing last night, the cloth worn thin like him. She’d gone then, preferring to wait outside in the cold to sitting in the crowded diner.
The day had passed quickly, restocking for winter had eaten most of her day, she’d even worked through lunch only thinking about Logan when she was finally leaving for the day. She’d seen the manager about arranging a couple of days off after her last shift tomorrow, she wanted some clear space, just in case. She wasn’t leaving her life here; she just needed the option if it came to it. Stopping at the market she bought everything she’d need for dinner, her store cupboards were full but she knew what she had in them wouldn’t be his taste. Trying to get the Logan in her head to come out to guide her choices, yet he was reluctant to even come forward now as if the real thing had driven him deeper into her mind. Taking her shopping home walking the regular route she always took but seeing it as she went, her mind taking in every detail as if she was leaving, the decision already made. Shaking the feeling away she watched her apartment grow larger, taking out her key as she walked around the back to the kitchen door.
He’d woken up at 10.45am; the comforter laid half on him and half on the floor. There was no sign of her when he got up; he’d half expected her to not go into work, to shirk her normal routine to be with him. He’d gone to the small bathroom upstairs finding it neat, tidy filled with her possessions and the scent of her. He’d halted at her bedroom door, just looking inside but not stepping a foot inside, it seemed like too much of an invasion to him. So he’d left the comforter outside the doorway, from what he could see of the room it was soft, comforting and all her. Even down to the way she’d managed to make art out of the scarves and gloves she’d had to wear, turning them into a collage on the wall above the bed. Reminding herself that touch came at a price, plus it was handy if she ever needed some in the night. His mind went to that particular source of curiosity, had she been with anyone? He couldn’t see her being without someone in her life for so long; she needed someone to hold onto. Or she had when he’d known her, perhaps she’d changed but his eyes searched for a picture in the room, he didn’t find one from his search near the door.
Hunger brought him back downstairs, entering the small kitchen he decided not to raid her own supply of food. He had some back at his room with his duffel, he had to take a shower and check out. One way or another he was leaving there tonight, where for he had no clue, he’d either be on the road later or he’d be here. Whatever happened he didn’t care, he’d found her and she seemed okay, settled. All he had to do now was tell her why he’d put everything on hold to find her. Taking the spare set of keys, he locked up behind him, the apartment feeling instantly cold when he walked away from it. His mind avoiding the issue until he had to deal with it, he walked off into the bright sunlight, mind seething with dreams and half understood words.
When he got to the small motel, the look from the desk clerk almost earned the small elderly man a punch in the head. Stifling the urge to throttle the old man Logan showered, packed up everything he had, checked out and drove into the town. Parking behind the apartment he saw the state of the fence at the back, several gaps were evident the place looking neglected and unsafe. Checking around he saw the supplies for fixing it resting there against the small shed, nodding to himself he knew what his day would be filled with. He’d fix her fence, get the yard secure for her something she’d have done for herself but it felt right to him. Giving her time to work out what she wanted to do.
First he needed to eat, rummaging through the pack he had bringing out a few battered tins and packets. He’d wash up afterward but it was still her home he was the guest here and he’d respect it, if he didn’t he’d be out on his ear.
As he cooked his lunch his mind wandered to the contents of the journals, her way of making sense about what she’d taken from him and Eric. She’d written page upon page of German in neat script, knowing they were the remnants of Eric. He’d understood them, a little shocking for him when he’d noticed that they weren’t English, she’d written an account of Eric’s time in the labour camp. The hurt, the pain despair and struggle he’d had to survive, also the rise of his power, making sure the bullets that were fired into the large crowds of workers never came near him. Surviving at any cost, even the death of friends and family were better than his own. It gave an insight into the mind that became Magneto, one he didn’t really want to see knowing the next time he saw him he’d remember the words he’d read here. Sympathy didn’t go well when you were fighting the Brotherhood.
She’d plucked images of nature from magazines, the picture perfect views that people tended to believe but she’d overwritten them with his words. A litany of loneliness, of wandering the roads, seeking something yet never knowing where to look or who to ask. On one page was a list of place names, just a list with her own writing next to it, different states, different counties, making a log of where he’d been. Looking at it he’d been shocked to see he’d been nearly everywhere on the continent, there were huge gaps where he’d just travelled straight through but he’d criss-crossed the entire thing in fifteen years. There’d been one picture he hadn’t understood until the memory had blown open into his mind, a Native American sat under a rock overhang, the words ‘Coyote Dust’ written underneath it.
He’d been there; sat there at one time alone apart from a coyote that had dogged him all the way through the reservation. He’d finally given in and had fed the half-starved creature, the next day someone had given him a lead about an abandoned army base to the north. He hadn’t found anything concrete but he’d known the layout of the compound, so he’d been there before. When he’d left to go back north the coyote had been waiting for him, saying a silent thank you he’d driven away. Looking back in his mirror to see a small native man stood there in the coyote’s place the look on his face too distant to read. He’d never gone back there, he’d known there was nothing left for him there but he had been there and he’d been happy once. Marie had reminded him of it, of a bright spot in the darkness and the longer he’d read the journals the more brightness she’d revealed to him. The past was no longer a dark emptiness to him, it held points of light, of remembrance like the night sky held stars; making the darkness bearable knowing the sun will rise eventually.
Sitting down to lunch, he’d looked at the pile of wood and tools, she’d everything she’d need here to do the job. Smiling, he had a purpose to the day, one that he could concentrate on for now. When four o’clock rolled around he wanted at least half the fence up, he never left a job half finished and she knew that. So if he stretched it out he’d be around for another day at least, washing up the dishes and pans he left them to dry next to the sink. Whistling he set to the pile of wood and tools, when she came home she’d see a few changes to her home, one she’d wanted and maybe she’d be ready to hear him. Because he was ready to talk to her now, seeing her mind laid out in the journals had convinced him of the truth in the words she’d spoken last night. She didn’t blame him, she didn’t hate him either, she’d understood it, it didn’t mean she’d enjoyed it but it had given her the key to her own life, without that she’d still be wrapped up and alone. Feeling a little more secure Logan got to work.
When she walked in the sound of work made her rush through the main room of her home to the kitchen window, there in his shirt swinging a large hammer was Logan. The pile of wood she’d put aside for the fence was being used, nearly half of it was up already, watching him swing the large hammer above his head to drive the post down into the soft earth of the yard. She stood there just watching him for a few minutes, watching him work, the movement of his body and the self-assured air that was coming from him. She caught a glimpse of his face as he worked, his mind was all on the job he was doing, she could almost see him working out the next amount of wood to saw to make the braces for the planks. He looked content, settled almost; a flash of him doing the same in a very different landscape ran through her mind. A large mountain in the distance and the small river that flowed down the slope, air so crisp it bit the lungs to breathe on cold mornings.
As he put the hammer down to crack his neck he turned toward the window, catching her watching him. The vision shattered as Logan just smiled and got on with the job in hand while he still had decent light. Turning away from the window, she put the bag down on the small kitchen table, pulling out food for dinner, her mind almost calm tonight. The sound of work coming from her yard soothing frayed nerves, he was still here and he wouldn’t finish the fence in one day. He never left anything half-done; she knew that, so he’d be around for a while yet. Admitting to herself that she’d expected to come home to another letter and an empty apartment, Logan had never been one for sharing his emotions and she’d wondered why he was now. Well maybe over dinner she’d find out, pulling the meat from the bottom of the bag, she dropped it on the counter. Venison, three pounds of it, two steaks for tomorrow and minced for tonight, she rarely ate dark meat these days but today was special she had a guest. One she hoped would tell her exactly why he never gave up looking for her, she had an idea but she’d often told herself it was nothing but a child’s fantasy; a dream. Flicking a look outside the window, she caught him measuring a plank for the fence, the look of concentration one she mirrored at work. She had a lot to thank him for, she just hoped he didn’t mind venison.
It was six before dinner was ready, light was fading from the sky and Logan was tidying away the rest of the wood and tools, keeping everything handy for tomorrows work. The smell of cooking meat had been with him for the last half-hour, and if the rest of the smells coming from the kitchen had been anything like what he was going to eat tonight, he quickly shoved any thoughts of eating out from his head. Walking into the kitchen the table was set with two places opposite one another, Marie was dishing up from the stove. She didn’t speak as he passed her, washing his hands in the sink cleaning the grime of the day from his skin. When he’d done he plucked a towel from the top of the stove to dry his hands, seeing the pans covering the stove. She’d done a full dinner, potato’s, carrots, peas, a thick gravy and meatloaf, smiling at him as he dried his hands next to her.
“Sit down Logan, it makes my job easier.” It did, when he’d brushed against her she’d had to grab the plate she was holding tighter because he’d sent a shudder through her. The corner of her eye watching him seat himself at the table as if they’d been doing this for years, relaxed and calm. Turning round with dinner balanced in both hands she gave him dinner and settled down to eat her own. “There’s beer in the fridge if you want it later, I’d let it cool first though. I couldn’t get any Molson, they’d sold out, had to go generic.” Logan shrugged, “Beer’s beer.” The comment made her snap her gaze into his to see the beginnings of a smile in his eyes.
“Really? From the man who kicked up a storm when I snuck his last Molson once?” Logan smiled and leaned toward her.
“Yeah, learned that there’s more important things in this life than types of beer.” She knew what he was saying in his own way, it didn’t matter what she had cooling down in the fridge, what mattered was whom he was with.
Getting the message she just got started on her dinner, cooking for two had been much better than cooking for one and part of her wished it could last but this was Logan, he never stayed long anywhere.
Dinner passed quietly, the food taking most of Logan’s attention, they did talk a little but it was mainly about the fence in the yard. It had boiled down to a near argument at one point until Logan had just let his pride go and laughed at a comment she’d made about his hammer action. “Well not every woman complains about me, especially when I’m driving,” the overt double entendre being understood immediately by Marie and her face flushing slightly. Things had lightened after that, she’d wanted him to know she didn’t expect him to work for her while he was here. He was her guest; a friend, someone she’d missed and he didn’t have to do anything but be here.
Logan washed as she dried, the plates and pans as the leftovers were put away in the fridge for later. Snagging a couple of beers Marie sat back down at the now cleared table, sliding one across to Logan’s side. Sitting on the chair, he leaned forward so his hands were near hers, the time had come, he couldn’t avoid it any longer and neither could Marie.
Taking a drink to whet his throat, he saw the nerves in her gaze as he began. “You know I’ve been looking for you.” Marie nodded slightly as she lifted her own beer to her lips hoping it would hide her nervousness. “Six years Marie, I’ve been looking for you for six years and now I’m only here because Chuck gave me the address.” The beer in her throat turned to sharp blades making it hard to swallow, recovering well, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Logan noticed the panic that swept through her at his words, “I didn’t ask him to tell me where you were, he showed me. He’s been keeping an eye on you for a while I think; just to be sure you’re doing okay. He’s a hard to man to hide from, believe me I’ve tried.” The way he said it made her believe him, as if he’d tried to avoid him when he was chasing after her, his next words confirmed it. “I’d have caught up with you in Helena if it hadn’t have been for him, four months I was away, long enough for you to find out and run again.” The hurt in him was obvious, she could feel it rising off him in waves, “Kind of makes someone believe you actually hated them the way you just kept moving, dodging the authorities, laying low.” She bit back a comment about just who she’d used to do that, that it was his talents that had kept her out of his reach for so long.
“So why now?” Logan shrugged, his face unreadable to her for the first time ever.
“Said it was time, he showed me your last letter home. Something was wrong with it, we both knew it but only one of us could come and find out.” The look in his eyes was fierce and she almost shied away from it, “So, you gonna tell me?”
What could she say, that she’d been running too long, that she really wanted a home she could be normal in? That her life wasn’t what she’d thought it would be? That there were nights she woke up sweating because she could still feel the bone hands reaching out to her trying to grab her and pull her under their emaciated forms? Normal for her wasn’t normal and it had left a bitter taste in her mouth. She’d run for his sake, to give him a home but part of her had resented him for it that she’d had to go instead of him. Looking into his gaze she felt her spine stiffen, he was the guest here, this was her home and her reply was acid. “Why should ah Logan? Ah mean it’s not as if ah’ve been open to rest of them, so why are they worried about me now? Ah have my life, it may not be what they want it to be but it’s mine and ah’m not going to give it up just because they say so!” Logan blinked at the savagery of her attack on him, taking his time to form a reply.
“Who said anything about them?” The anger dropped out of her in seconds, Xavier had sent Logan to her for her, so they could settle this pain. It had nothing to do with the rest of them or their meddling in her life, over the years her contact with the rest of them had dwindled until there wasn’t much but cards at holidays and birthdays. If he’d wanted to Xavier could have contacted her directly not through Logan; she couldn’t see Xavier doing it that way, the sense of it hitting her square on. Logan was here because he wanted to find her, to speak to her, to tell her something and he’d given up six years of his life to find her.
“I made a deal with Chuck,” her gaze hit his as he continued. “I told him I’d do anything he wanted as long as he let me keep looking for you, just giving you a day’s notice before I got there. He never told me where you were; I just did what I was asked to in between looking for you. Just living day to day, doing a job then leaving again, starting at the place I left a week, a month, a year before. It’s all I had, till now.”
Marie looked at him, the truth screaming out at her, he’d put everything on hold for her, given up his own search for answers to find her and put right what he’d believed he’d done wrong. His gaze was slightly distant already and he dropped his head a little as he carried on, his fingers playing with the beer label.
“I’m not used to talking like this Marie, you know that. Tend to shy away from it to be honest because people lie, they say things they don’t mean, wrap it up in words that don’t mean anything. I can’t do that and don’t get far with others who can’t not do it.” His eyes met hers and the look in them almost took her breath away it was that sharp. “You never lied to me, you were always honest and I appreciated that, so when you left I thought it was because you couldn’t face telling me how much I’d hurt you.” She could see where he was coming from, how he could see that in her actions especially when there was no one else he could ask and get an honest answer out of. She opened her mouth to speak when he raised his hand, “Don’t. If you start I’ll never get this out.” Seeing the desperation in his gaze she just sat back and listened to him pour out what he needed to say to her.
“Six years Marie, it’s a long time to work out a speech but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna use it now.” The uncomfortable look that settled across his face made her want to touch him, to smooth the pain away that was surfacing. Yet he had to do this without her help, he had to solve it his way and she’d let him if it took all night.
“I needed you.” The pain flaring in his hazel gaze, “For the first time in my life I needed someone, fate made it you, poison skin an all. The first time I saw you in the bar at Laughlin I needed you, the look you sent my way made something turn inside me. I ignored it, hell I didn’t even look back after that idiot tried to stab me knowing I’d left you with them. Some piece of work huh?” Taking a drink he drained the bottle and Marie just got him another from the fridge, sliding it over the wooden surface to his hand. “Thanks.”
He stayed silent for a while sorting the words out in his head, trying to make her understand what he felt about her without scaring or hurting her. Hell it scared him the amount of power she’d had over him, that he’d wanted to please her so much in return for a smile or a simple touch from her gloved hand.
“When you ran they went after you, Storm and Cyc. I was supposed to stay behind just in case Magneto was out there, didn’t know he wasn’t after me then. Thing was I couldn’t let you go without telling you I was sorry for hurting you, for giving you pain. An when we got to you at Liberty it was the same, if I hadn’t had my head stuffed so far up my ass I’d have realised it wasn’t me he was after. Hell he could’ve picked me up anytime, Sabretooth could’ve done it alone but I didn’t think about it, I was too locked in my own little world back then. When you came along it changed, you opened it up, just ripped the whole mess open and cared about it when I didn’t even give a damn anymore. That’s what hurt Marie, that you could give a damn about me one moment then leave the next.” She saw the whole thing laid out for her then, that he loved her, even when he didn’t want to, even when he’d tried to remove her from his mind. She was still there, in her looks on him, the smiles she’d thrown his way as she’d locked eyes with him across the room. Up until he’d begun to avoid her and the smiles and looks had become lost in his avoidance of her. Seeing his hand lift the second beer, she broke into his words with her own.
“You were the one that began to avoid me Logan, not the other way round. Ah was still a child then, not sure of anything or myself back then and when you started to ignore me ah just didn’t understand it. You hurt me too Logan.” His head nodded as he tore the beer label off the bottle, trying to avoid the words that were coming across the table to him.
“I know,” his eyes were burning when they met hers again, the fire in them making her take a gulp of her own beer in the hope of quenching the feelings the look stirred in her. “I wanted you. I needed you; all of you and Wolverine was going to have you one way or another. I even found myself outside Bobby’s door one day, claws drawn and about to go in when Storm called to me from up the corridor. Luckily, she didn’t see the claws or I’d have been out on my ass teacher or not. He saw you as his, fighting and bringing you back that night brought him up to the surface Marie, an when he’s there he’s hard to put back down.” The look that passed her own face said it all and he quirked a smile, “Yeah you know that already.”
Wiping his hand over the bottle Logan tried to get the words out in some semblance of order, that they’d make sense to her as well as himself. “Marie, I care about you. Your important to me too important to let Wolverine win an when I went to see you that day, when you were leaving I’d run out of excuses. I’d driven you away hurt you even when I was trying to protect you from him, from me. I thought I’d lost you and Wolverine couldn’t let you go, I couldn’t let you go.” His eyes met hers again, the depth of the look making her breath still in her lungs, “Still can’t even now. You’re all I think about, all I have thought about for six years and now I’m here I’m wondering when it’s all going to go wrong.”
Her mouth was suddenly dry, he’d just told her he loved her, opened up everything in a few words and she didn’t know how to react. His eyes were locked onto her own and she knew he was looking for something from her, acknowledgement, acceptance, something. Yet all she could do was swallow and stare at his face as hers grew hot, seeing his hand release the beer in its grasp and reach out toward her skin. The touch of his fingers on her skin making her pulse race and her breath quicken, his voice whispering her name as he traced her skin making her close her eyes. “Marie…” She hadn’t let anyone this close for years, keeping an emotional barrier between her and everyone else, even the people at the school. She’d learned from him how to keep herself distant, even living here she’d kept herself outside most people’s lives. Only doing enough to be social, never overly friendly with anyone, keeping her banter light with customers and away from the personal.
It had been hard for her to accept that Logan had cared about her, harder still to hear him say it that he’d put everything on hold to find her. To try and make things better, to heal what he’d done to her uncertain even now of what he was doing and getting everything wrong. He’d been part of her mind for so long but she hardly even knew him, he’d only shared with her what she’d forced out of him. Making him show her things, letting her feel what it was about him until she’d reached a truck stop in Wisconsin. The memory of him trying to kill himself there, of trying to fight Wolverine’s urge to survive until he’d finally just given in, letting Wolverine take him over. Coming back to himself somewhere south in a bar with a woman on his arm and one already on her knees in front of him. After that she’d started the journal, writing it all down, sorting it out in her head so she could let him express it without tormenting her sleep. It had flowed through her, not part of her, filling the pages with images and words she didn’t understand fully knowing the only person who did would find her one day. She’d often thought about burning them, yet she just couldn’t do it, he needed to see them, they were his memories things she knew he didn’t remember himself so she’d keep them until he found her.
Opening her eyes she saw his hazel filled with hope, that he hadn’t gotten it wrong by telling her how he felt this way. What he wanted her to do with it was something she had to work out for herself, “Logan…Ah…Logan.” He didn’t give her the chance to think, moving quickly he got up and was round to her side faster than she could blink. Pulling her out of her seat and kissing her, the feel of him against her opening everything up. Her loneliness, her self exile, the pain of not having anyone close to her for the fear of hurting them like she'd hurt him. Denying herself the simple pleasure of another human’s touch on her, reminding herself she was deadly to everyone eventually, even herself.
Yet there was no denying the feelings Logan was pulling out of her now, want, a desperate need to touch to feel something other than the touch of her own hands. Breaking away from her and seeing through her to the truth she’d hidden from, that she’d needed him as much as he’d needed her. Life had lost it’s shine for her and she knew inside she’d have moved on again sooner or later trying to find the one thing she was looking for, the one thing that had been looking for her. Her voice was shaky and her eyes blurred when she eventually spoke to him, his grip on her soft but supporting her, keeping her up tight against him so she could feel everything about him. “Logan ah’m scared, ah’m tired of runnin’ from you. Ah don’t want to hurt you anymore but ah’m scared of making you stay here with me. Ah don’t want to hurt you.”
He didn’t say anything, he just looked at her trying to find the words to reassure her and coming up empty, he was talked out maybe later he’d have words but now he had nothing. Wiping her tears away, he just held her, his body crying out to touch her, to show her how much he loved her, cherished her. Knowing she wanted him as much as he did her, that she was trying to keep him safe from her but he didn’t want that.
He wanted messy, he wanted complicated with her, because it was her. Releasing her a little he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the main room, her tears still flowing as she followed him to the bookcase. Plucking out the journal with the picture of the crying man he opened it at the page, showing her he’d seen it, showing her the words he’d written underneath her own deeply etched words. Their importance shouting above her own scribbled emotions, reading them to herself then speaking them to the quiet room. “I was already dead without you, and I’ll never stop looking for you. You made it worthwhile, without you there’s nothing left.” Seeing him close the journal and drop it to the top of the desk, meeting the look in his eyes and understanding everything. He would never let her go, never give up looking for her even if she ran now. He’d always be there until she was ready to accept him and he’d stop living until she accepted what he had for her. That it wasn’t a crush or fascination, it was in his blood, he couldn’t stop it as much as he could stop breathing. She was his and she knew it, Wolverine had shown both of them what Logan had tried to deny and what she’d run from. Thing was apart neither of them were living, they were just existing she’d never felt as much in the last six months as she had this last two days. All because of him, all because he’d found her at last through Xaviers help, telling her where she was.
This time she moved to him, wrapping herself around him, sliding her hands through his shirt to his skin underneath, listening to his purr as she touched him. Knowing that tonight together they’d change everything, everything between themselves and the world around them. That no matter what happened tomorrow would be different, better, brighter because they weren’t alone anymore. They had each other and that’s all that mattered.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
We catch up with Logan after he's been chasing Marie over the continent, he finally finds her but what will her response be?