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She didn’t know how long she had lain on the ground. Long enough to stop crying. Long enough to realize she had to go back. Sentinel might be there, waiting for her. But there was a slight possibility that Logan was there, still alive. She still remembered Danger Room’s watered down version of a sentinel. How Logan had stopped it back then. She got on her knees and stood up, turning back.
It was hard to move. Almost impossible to make cramped muscles to work, but he finally managed to roll off from the Sentinel. Getting claws back in was completely another issue. All skin and flesh from his hands up to his elbows had been almost literally burnt off. Metal bones gleamed wetly on the moonlight. Sight and smell of it made him gag. It didn’t hurt. Not yet. But he was already healing. Tissues were knitting themselves back in right order rapidly. He was itching. Soon that itch would turn to burn.
“Oh, fuck…” He tried to brace himself, but when first blood vessels grew back, he started sobbing. When first nerve endings crawled to their rightful places he was already screaming, cursing the Sentinel for letting him live, and praying for any possible higher deity to take away his consciousness. He was dimly aware there was somebody with him, holding down his trashing body. He realized it was Marie. She had returned. He tried to wrap his arms around her, smearing her with blood. Friction sent new bolts of pain and fire coursing through his system and he had to let go. His heart started to skip beats, and it was getting harder to breathe. Then blessed darkness took him over again.
When he came to, there were soft lips on his own. Steady flow of air. Then they went away and something hit his chest, hard.
“You’re not fucking going to die on me now! You hear me!” Lips were back, forcing air in to his lungs. Then they went away again.
“You fucking promised me bed and a fireplace! I have waited long enough! Wake up!” Sharp kick to his ribcage made him groan and roll on to his stomach. Squeal of joy, and something soft and light landed on his back. Marie, wrapping her hands around him, burying her face to the crook of his neck, now crying. He tried feebly to untangle her, to turn over and embrace her, but it looked like she was unable to let go, so he let his head droop back against the ground and just laid there, collecting his wits, listening sharp pinging noises Sentinel was making while cooling off.
“Kid? I do need to breathe eventually…” Logan’s voice was hoarse, and she realized she was nearly strangling him in her relief. She loosened her hold and helped him to turn on his back.
“I thought you were going to die,” she gasped. Logan grinned and reached the side of her face with his hand, now fully healed.
“Not a chance. I did promise you that bed and fireplace…” He craned his neck and chuckled softly.
“Only it looks like you have to settle just to me at the moment.” One powerful blast from the Sentinel had blown up the cabin.
“At the moment you’re all I need,” Marie whispered smiling, and leaned closer, brushing his lips with her own. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, rolling them over so that he ended on top of her.
“Good. I need you now.”
There was no warm fire crackling, soft bed or foreplay. They tore of each other’s clothes with trembling hands, both in a hurry. Kisses they shared were frantic; more licks and bites than actual kisses. When he sunk in to her, she locked her legs around his waist and just held him in place, enjoying the possibility to be this close to him, to feel him pulsing inside of her, alive. He buried his face to her neck, and she could feel wetness on her skin. He was crying.
“Turn your skin on… Just for a sec…” He choked.
It was utter bliss. No coherent image, just deep feeling of belonging, and one word. Home.
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