Damage Control
She closed her eyes. This was it. She was going to die. Not quite the way she had been expecting. She wondered briefly would he really make her scream. She knew he was perfectly capable of it.
His mind was reeling. Claws hovered over her hesitantly. Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Marie. Marie in his trailer, on the side of the road. Asking if it hurt, sitting next to him in his truck. Marie in Magneto’s machine, dead on his arms. Laughing and smiling, running around with her friends. Breaking his heart, standing next to Bobby at the altar. Slow healing, watching over her from distance. Deep, burning love for her and Aislin. Betrayal, confusion… He was so fucking confused.
She waited. Few seconds stretched to a minute.
Claws landed slowly on top of her shoulder, shredding cloth, but leaving the skin underneath unharmed. It took mere seconds to cut away her clothing. She bit her lip, making a firm decision not to scream. This was Logan. He would come to his senses. She shut her conscious mind, and retreated deep inside. Soft place, filled with happy thoughts, sunlight and friends. It was a familiar place to her. She had practically lived in there during all those years she had spent imprisoned to that lab.
What he saw when final shred of garment fell off from her made him stop. Tiny scar, nearly invisible. Just below her navel. White. Leftover from an old wound. Last thing his claws shredded were ropes binding her. He stood up stiffly and walked away.
At first she was too scared to move. She was too scared to open her eyes. Then something soft and warm landed on top of her naked, shivering form. A quilt. Hands wrapped it tightly around her; she was lifted up and carried back to tent. She was sure Logan would leave now, but he did quite opposite. He lay down next to her, wrapping his much larger body rigidly around her. She squinted her eyes open. All she could see was part of his chest. She could hear his heart, working overtime. He was shivering slightly.
“Are we alright?” She asked timidly, fearing for his reaction.
“Getting there, little one. Sleep now.”
Chirping birds woke her up. Logan was still sleeping. During the night he had rolled on top of her, pinning her efficiently to the thin mattress. Blanket around her restricted her movements.
“Oh, God… Please, wake up…” She hissed and squirmed. That only made Logan grumble in his sleep and taking a firmer hold from her.
“Logan, please… Wake up!” Panic reared its ugly head, and she found enough strength to struggle away from his grip. She didn’t have the time to think about state of her clothing, or lack of it. She dashed out from the tent, behind one, lonely rosebush next to it. Few more seconds and she would have wet the bed.
“Oohh…”
“Marie?” Her loud groan woke him up, and he scrambled out, hairs sticking wildly to every imaginable direction and eyes searching her.
“Right here. I just really had to pee.”
“Oh… I thought…” He shuffled his feet and picked up invisible lint from the canvas of the tent. She slipped past him, crawled in and started searching for clothes. Pants, bra and socks. Morning was a bit chilly so she chose warm, grey sweater and jeans. Boots on. After that there was nothing else to do. Time to face the music.
“You’re not exactly sane. Right?” She asked with a conversational tone, busying her hands with making a breakfast. Cold sandwiches and juice.
“Right.” He was kicking a small lump of grass, looking everywhere but to her.
“You were going to kill me last night. Right?”
“Wrong. I was going to cut you up.” She swallowed a lump from her throat.
“We should part company before you do something you regret. Right?”
“Right.”
“Can I ask you something?” He asked after they had eaten and were packing their camp. She nodded.
“Is this good bye?”
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