He knew that Max would rather die than let anything happen to Marie. A fact that didn’t alleviate uneasy feeling in his gut. He should have stayed with her instead of going after Magneto in hopes of sweet revenge. Yet here he was, standing at the front porch of Magneto’s brothel.

He closed his eyes and let his head droop backward, leaning against the backrest of the armchair he had chosen. It was easier to sleep like this. It was easier to get up and comfort her like this if she happened to have a nightmare. She had those quite often. Some of them her own, some of them something she had absorbed from her ‘customers’, as Magneto had called her victims.

They let him in no questions asked. Magneto was either arrogant or foolish. Or both. Two goons guarding the front door escorted him to the office and told him to wait there; the boss would be with him soon. He sat down and waited. Waited like a good little doggy.

This night seemed to be a pleasant exception to the norm. She was sleeping peacefully, curled on her side. He cracked his eyes open and regarded her. Like this it was impossible to tell that she had gone through Hell. She looked like any other girl would look when sleeping. A tad too young, too fragile, a child in so many aspects. It was hard to believe that any of Magneto’s customers would have preferred her over the professionals working at the brothel.

“Wolverine,” Magneto greeted him casually as if they were old friends, then locked the door behind him before settling behind his rickety desk. He nodded. Magneto leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest.
“And what do I owe this pleasure, my boy?” Magneto asked.
“Rogue.” His answer was simple. Magneto nodded.
“The girl you stole from me. I assume that this is somewhat… Personal?” He asked.
“You could say so…”


For some reason dreams were evading him tonight. Just as he was about to plunge deep in to that refreshing state of numbness he jolted fully awake for no apparent reason. He sat up straighter, lit the small lamp on the bedside table after making sure that it wouldn’t shine on Marie’s face and reached for a book he had found earlier. He didn’t know what the book was about, it was missing cover and several pages from here and there, but perhaps reading something, anything, would finally lull him in to sleep.

He managed to scrape Magneto badly enough to make him loose it. The old man was far too concerned of the state of his innards to even try to fend off his assailant.
“Talk to me, and you just might live another day…” He growled. Magneto grimaced, clutching the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
“Talk to you? What makes you so sure that I even wish to live?”

And now he could detect the faint scent of sickness. Magneto was already dying. Had been for good while already.


He tossed the book in to trash bin when it became too hard to follow the fractured plotline. Formidable gap from the page 35 to the page 136 was quite impossible to bridge with his limited imagination. He turned his attention to the sleeping girl again. She looked so peaceful. So at ease. If she could get out of her shell like this at waking hours… He shook his head and smiled. He actually felt sorry for the boys and men around her. She could twist them in to tight knots just by looking at them.

“Why?”
“Because I could?” Magneto gasped backing in to corner. Away from him. Away from his claws.
“Why did you have to screw up her life? What the fuck had she done to you?”
“Nothing… She was just… Convenient. I knew they wouldn’t be able to resist…”
He stepped closer and crouched in front of the old mutant. First question answered. Trickier dilemmas ahead.


He stood up and stretched his back. It was raining outside. Big fat droplets were bombarding the paved parking lot. He turned off the light, then just stood there, staring in to the night, trying to figure out if Marie really wanted to stay with him, or had she refused to return to Xavier because she thought that it was what he wanted.
You must login (register) to review.