I remember once when I was a little girl I saw this painting in an art book my mama had--it's real famous, but I didn't know that then--it showed this bizarre desert-like landscape with a weird creature lying on the ground and these watches that looked all melted, like jellyfish or something. That painting freaked me out. I looked at it almost every day and then I'd have nightmares about it at night. You know how kids are. I'd lie in bed and think of explanations for it. The watches weren't watches, they were animals that looked like watches. They were painted skins. They were made out of chocolate. The sun was just so hot it melted them very quickly.
It made me think about things differently. I found out later that it's called "The Persistence of Memory." Sometimes I feel like that; I feel like I've got all these different memories in my head, persisting, melting together and yet retaining their essential shapes.
Logan never tells me he loves me to my face, but I know he does. I tell him I love him and I mean it, which is terrifying. Love isn't something I was prepared for; it isn't something I knew how to accept at first. I never thought I'd let someone get under my skin except via the killer mutant touch route.
I don't know where the whole "innocent good girl" thing came from. I mean, sure I was young and all, but let me tell you, sugar, I haven't been a good girl in a long time. People always smile knowingly when I lose my temper or start swearing. Like they're thinking, "oh, isn't is cute--her inner Logan's showing!" Well, the fact is I've got a homegrown temper of my own. Sure, having Logan in my head certainly improved my curse word vocabulary, but the impulse to say them is my own.
I can't be weak. If I couldn't keep a leash on the men in my head I couldn't control my skin. It's that simple. When I figured that out my life changed drastically for about the millionth time.
First I go from southern good girl--yeah, Marie was a good girl once; Rogue's never been one--to killer mutie freak on the run.
Next thing you know I end up in fucking Westchester New York of all places and suddenly I'm back to doing the good girl thing and somehow cast as the untouchable tragic heroine in some psychodrama involving me, Logan, Jean, Magneto, and anyone else who wants to get in on the action.
Then I get my mutation under control and all of a sudden I can be a normal girl again. I applied to ten colleges--all miles away from New York--and went to one in California. I majored in history; I think that came from Erik. Not that he made me pick it, but after listening to him for a few years I wanted to know for myself--as much as I could--about all the things that'd been rattling around in my weird melted memories. So I went across the country and tried to pretend I'd never mutated, that I'd never known what it was like to feel someone's soul flooding into mine.
I tried pretending. I really tried.
Ryan was the first boy I had intercourse with. I say it like that because I was hardly virginal when it happened. You know there are a lot of things a girl can do without touching skin to skin and I did 'em when I was on the run. I'd get a ride or some dinner out of it. I never did it for cash; I wouldn't cross that line. I probably would've done it for Logan back when he picked me up... I don't know. I got the feeling he wouldn't ask and maybe that part of why I got in his truck.
Anyway. Ryan. We met in English 101. He was nice and a virgin too and I was ready. That's about all there is to it. We did it in my room while my roommate Angie was working at the computer lab. It was messy and awkward, it hurt, and I had to pee right after but it was kind of sweet, too. He said he was in love with me, which felt nice to hear, but I wasn't in love with him. We went out till just after Christmas; I came back and Ryan didn't seem right anymore. I broke it off with him and he cried which made me cry and then I got mad at him for making me cry. Don't ask me to explain it.
So was it seeing Logan over the break that made me break up with Ryan? Maybe. I crushed on him hard for such a long time; I imagined I was in love, maybe I was. That Christmas Logan was in the middle of shifting Jean from "hot chick" to "friend" in his mind and he seemed a little freaked out by that.
Like he didn't have many friends at all, let alone ones that fall in the "hot chick" category.
I remember once before I moved away for school Jean came into my room at some ungodly hour of the morning and tried to wake me up--was there a field trip or something?--and I opened my eyes and propositioned her. Said something like "why don't you crawl in here and wake me up properly." That woke me up and I slapped my hands over my mouth and got all embarrassed. Jean looked embarrassed too, but then she started giggling. That made me giggle and all of a sudden we're laughing out loud. That was the start of me and Jean becoming friends; it didn't happen over night, but it started right there.
Maybe I should say a few words about how things work in my head. See, first thing you gotta know is it's almost all men up there. Back then it _was_ all men. I probably know more about the male psyche than just about anyone. At least anyone female. I know Logan and Erik aren't exactly representative of the typical male psyche, but it's more than you've got, I'll bet. Second thing you gotta know is Logan helps me keep the rest of them in line. He's pretty much the only good one in there and he's got a real strong presence. I gotta keep him in line most of the time too or else I get a little weird. He helps a lot though. I usually let him loose at night, when I go to sleep. That's probably why the whole Jean incident happened. Third thing you gotta know is even though I get their memories and powers and blah blah blah, I have to be stronger than they are. If I'm not, well, that's a one way ticket to the loony bin, sugar.
Logan helps me believe that I am stronger than they are.
Then the awful Drunken Halloween Party Incident my sophomore year changed my life drastically once again. This guy I'd been out with once or twice got a little too touchy-feely and I made with the deadly skin act. I could've stopped him without flipping it on but I looked down at his hands on my stomach, touching my skin without permission and I just got so _angry_. I wanted to show him what happens when someone touches me without permission. Maybe I was a little drunk. He passed out--I told Logan he was probably still in a coma, which wasn't really true. I think he woke up a week or two later, I never saw him again though. I didn't want Logan to go all "must hunt and kill" for something that happened a million years ago.
After that I stopped hiding my mutant-ness. I embraced the mutant within. I told my roommate right away and she freaked so I got another roommate--Caroline--who was cool with it. She's the one I got the whole "make a joke and brush it off" thing from. She was good at that.
I started flipping the skin on when I was alone. Once I went out and walked around--no gloves, shorts and sandals--with it on. You'd be surprised at the lengths people go to to avoid touching strangers in the city; no one entered my personal space bubble. I talked to Scott and the Professor and told them I wanted to train to join the team when I graduated; I wanted to do something--anything--to fill my life with activity so I wouldn't have to think about how incredible it had felt to drain that guy.
Logan visited me once or twice at school which surprised me. We weren't exactly friends then, really. I mean, we had this weird bond and neither of us knew what to do with it. He'd visit and make all the girls on my floor swoon and gush. Once in my junior year he arrived when I was in dress rehearsal--Erik may have influenced my major but my extracurricular activities were my own--I was playing Sally Bowles (my first lead part!) in Cabaret and he came in during "Mein Herr," which was my big sexy number. I ran up and hugged him and he looked at me like I was a Martian. I was all made up with a wig and garters and all that. Maybe that was the first time he noticed I had feminine attributes, I don't know. He acted weird the whole time he was there. I made him go to the show though.
When I graduated Logan asked if he could come and take me back to Westchester. Two things weird with that: first, he asked, and second, he wanted to voluntarily attend a large social gathering? We'd have to drive or take the train back too, which meant many days alone. hm. See, Logan can't fly. I mean, he can, like in the Blackbird or a private plane, but he can't fly commercially. He can't make it past even the first security check. Even if he explained, I mean, think about it--would you want some super mutant with deadly metal claws and a short temper on your flight?
So we did the road trip thing. We took a few weeks and drove around the country. I know what you're thinking--if any situation is made for romance, this was it. We camped out mostly and got a motel when it rained or we were jonesing for a shower.
We went to a baseball game in in San Francisco at the start of our trip. I'm a baseball girl. I enjoy hockey and all, but baseball is my first love. Logan grumbled until I told him there'd be beer drinking. I tried to explain what I love so much about the game--how it's about teamwork, but also it's about just the pitcher and the batter. How it's about skill and luck and magic. How there's no time restriction, theoretically a game could go on and on forever, just like the field could. There's no rush to beat a clock in baseball. He looked at me strangely like I was talking about something else and said "okay." Then I tried to explain the infield fly rule and he glazed over.
We got to know each other on that trip--as friends. That's all.
When I got back to Westchester I did one of the dumbest things I've ever done. I dated Remy. I made the mistake of underestimating the depth of his feelings and I hurt someone I considered a friend. It made people take sides for a while, too, which was awful. I'd never really been involved with someone I'd have to be around if we broke up. I don't know, maybe I was testing the waters a little to see how things might go if Logan and I got together. Remy made the ultimate mistake of asking me to stop wearing the tags. He was the only one who knew who they were from and what they might signify. I didn't tell him what they really mean to me--I didn't want him to do something stupid like offer to let me touch him so he could be up there too. I ended it right then, hoping to do it before things got out of hand. They'd already gotten out of hand. He accused me of using him and not caring at all for his feelings. I didn't say anything because he was kind of right.
I tried a few more times after Remy. I went out with the brother of one of the students. He was... nice. Strangely it was 'Ro who helped me realize something that would change my life drastically one more time. I'd just broken it off with the last one and was feeling like a weepy old thing. I talked to her a bit and she said it. The thing I'd been thinking for god knows how long. "What about Logan?"
What about Logan.
There. Plain as day. I was floored. I said something about being friends and not wanting to fuck that up, something about how he's the possessive type and I won't be owned, etc. 'Ro said it straight out:
"I've seen the way he looks at you lately. You're going to have to make a choice, probably soon. Do yourself a favor--when that time comes, listen to your heart or your gut or your instinct, whatever. Don't think about what could happen; think about what will happen. Don't be afraid."
Don't be afraid.
Easy for her to say. She wouldn't be the one risking her best friend. Risking everything. She wasn't the one who was afraid he'd hate her when he found out she wasn't really a good girl.
When the moment came I was kind of proud of myself. Only a little weeping followed by a little kissing. And it was... good. It felt right. We didn't jump each other right away, which surprised me since neither of us is especially reserved. We waited and did some kissin' and other stuff, just getting used to doing that with each other. About a month later we had joyful sex. I say it like that because that's what it was--filled with joy. It was weird a little because it was him, but it was wonderful too. We laughed before, during, and after. Well, I laughed, he grinned a lot. I've never done that before.
Another thing I'd never done that I do now with Logan is sleep overnight in the same bed. I never did it before because... well, not all the nightmares in my head are from Logan and Erik. I have a special nightmare of my own and it goes like this: I wake up next to a corpse with a new permanent resident up in the chateau-Marie's-brain. I don't know if my skin ever flips on while I'm asleep, but I don't want to take any chances. Logan says he can smell it when my skin is on, which is a little creepy but reassuring. We're both incredibly light sleepers and I make sure one of us is mostly covered (Logan doesn't like that much but I insist) when we go to sleep. It made me nervous at first but now I can't imagine not waking up with him.
It's been about a year, which is a record for both of us, I think. We're still happy. More happy, even. I tell him I love him and I mean it, which is the scariest thing of all.
He always understands when I need to be alone--sometimes I just need to go for a swim or sit in a quiet room by myself. I need to retain my essential shape, you know? I need to keep from melting away. I know he's the same way and that makes a world of difference. He even curbs (well, he tries to most of the time) the whole possessive-guy-mate thing 'cause he knows I don't like to think of myself that way. Or I never did before.
He's not much for verbal clues to his thoughts and feelings. He's never really said he loves me beyond a mumbled "loveya" here and there, but I know he does. He says it at night when he thinks I'm sleeping. He puts his face in my hair and whispers "I love you, Marie. I love you. Love you..." It's okay, I understand. I'm the same way, which I think makes the difference. I whisper to him too, late at night while he sleeps.
"I'm yours, Logan. I'm yours. Yours."
End
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