By mid-morning, Logan was almost back to his old self. Having repaired all the internal damage, his body was working now on the flesh wounds, only the worst of which were still knitting together from the inside out.
He’d taken a shower and was checking his reflection in Storm’s bathroom mirror, thinking that the jagged cut, small but deep, over his left eye added a sort of ‘outlaw’ element to his usual ‘bad ass’ look, when he heard his least favorite person calling his name.
“Logan! It’s time to rise and shine, Sunshine. The professor wants you in Med Lab right away,” Scott informed him.
“Tell the professor I’m fine now. I don’t need Med Lab,” Logan returned, making no move to exit the bathroom.
“Who said this was about you?” Scott shot back.
Logan strode from the bathroom to the bedroom door and ripped it open. He gave no thought to his total nudity.
“Well, it sure as hell better not be about Rogue or I’ll—“
“You’ll what? Streak down there and brow beat everyone with you pr—“
“NO! I won’t! I CAN’T!”
Rogue’s voice rose up from the bowels of the mansion, exploding in Logan’s ears like a fire siren. He lashed out at the handiest target, wrapping one big paw around Scott’s throat.
“What the hell was that about?” he demanded, not realizing Scott hadn’t even heard her yell.
“Let go…Logan…Oh, shit…Can’t talk…” Scott choked out as he tried to peel Logan’s fingers off his windpipe.
Logan let go, letting Scott catch his breath while he searched the room for his jeans and pulled them on. Without shirt or shoes, he pushed past a still wheezing Scott and ran for the elevator, zipping his fly as he went.
“Come on!” Logan yelled as the elevator failed to respond instantaneously to his request for entry.
Scott caught up just as the door opened and both men plunged through it. Logan had to fight the urge to take a claw to the ‘Down’ button, but he managed to contain the impulse.
“What the fuck is going on down there, Scott?”
“Something I hope you can put a stop to.”
“Gladly.”
Snikt. Double snikt.
The Wolverine emerged from the elevator into the stark metallic hallway in full attack mode, ready to open up a whole can of adamantium-flavored whoopass on whoever was messing with his Rogue.
Taking his own life in his hands, Scott grabbed Logan’s arm with one hand and the earpiece of his glasses with the other just before the Med Lab door slid open.
“Go in there with claws blazing and I will blast you into next week. These are people we love, you idiot,” Scott uttered with menacing calm.
Logan actually blinked as the meaning of Scott’s words sunk in. Yeah, One Eye was right; the claws were a bad idea. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone here, but he couldn’t ignore the anguish he’d heard in Rogue’s voice. Someone was in big trouble.
Snikt.
“OK, no claws,” he capitulated and proceeded to punch Scott squarely in the jaw with his huge fist, knocking him across the threshold and into the medical treatment area. Scott landed in a heap at Jean’s feet.
“Which part of ‘don’t do anything until I get there’ did you not understand?” Logan hollered down at him as he stalked by and then shot a glare at Jean, too, just for good measure. He looked around for Rogue, but didn’t see her anywhere.
“Where is she and what is it that she can’t or won’t do?” he asked both of them as Jean helped Scott up off the floor. A large bruise was quickly forming on the left side of Scott’s jaw.
“I’m not saying word one to you, Logan, until you calm down,” Jean replied in a tone normally reserved for recalcitrant children. Logan got the feeling that if she’d known what they were, she’d have used his middle and last name in the scolding, too.
Logan Something Something, you settle down this instant or I’m putting you in time out!
“You want me to calm down? Then show me Marie, dammit!”
As if by his command, a window at what he had thought was the back wall of Med Lab lit up to reveal the figures of Rogue and Xavier seated across from one another in the room on the other side of the glass.
Logan saw that the professor had removed his suit jacket and tie. His white dress shirt was open at the collar. Rogue was wearing a black tank top and a pair of gray sweat pants. Their gazes were locked together, serene expressions on both of their faces. They might have been about to play Scrabble, but something told Logan a more dangerous game was afoot.
He moved toward the window. Jean grabbed his arm.
“Don’t. He’s preparing her for what might happen when she touches him.”
“When she what?!?” Logan almost shrieked in disbelief. He looked from Jean to Scott and back again. “Are you people crazy? She could kill him!”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell them all morning,” Scott said.
“Whose cockamamie idea was this?” Logan posed, staring daggers at Jean.
“His,” the couple answered in unison as they both pointed at the bald figure in the next room.
Logan watched in stunned horror as Rogue reached out with her bare hand and laid her fingers into Xavier’s outstretched palm. Nothing moved, not even air; no one breathed. A heartbeat passed, then two.
Neither Xavier nor Rogue seemed affected at all by the contact. One more heartbeat and the hope Logan had denied for so long began bubbling up inside him. He wanted so badly to let it fill him up, let it overflow and drown out the fear that held him now in its icy grip. But he’d been where Chuck was and he knew he couldn’t afford to hope, not yet.
The first sign of trouble was the blood vessels rising, red and angry, to the surface of the professor’s bald scalp. Then their hands, still touching, began to tremble. Xavier grimaced in pain and seemed to shrink further into his chair.
“She can’t let go!” Jean yelled. “He’s telling her to let go and she can’t!”
Logan was through the door, across the room and grabbing Rogue’s wrist to break the connection before Scott or Jean could yell, “Don’t!” But they yelled anyway.
Hauling Rogue up by one arm, just like he had that day in the bathroom, he slung her against his chest and carried her out to one of the empty examination tables. Scott had scooped an unconscious Xavier from his chair and laid him on the table next to Rogue.
“Rogue? Marie, darlin’, can you hear me?” Logan spoke softly at her ear, leaning over her, unwilling to release her from his protective arms.
Her eyes were open, rolling wildly as if desperately searching for something or someone to focus on. With one arm still wrapped under her shoulders, Logan used his other hand to direct her face toward his.
“Marie! Marie, baby, look at me. Can you see me, darlin’? I’m right here. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he soothed, stroking her cheek with his long fingers while his thumb held her chin captive, keeping her head still. He had no idea how he managed to keep his voice calm when his heart was beating him to death from the inside out.
Jean and Scott had already removed the professor’s shirt and hooked him up to the monitors that would display his vital signs. They were working on fitting him with a clear plastic helmet-like contraption to monitor his rather unique brain waves when Jean reached over and touched Logan’s shoulder.
“Leave us alone!” the Wolverine growled.
“Logan you’re not helping. She can feel how scared you are. It’s hurting her. Let her go!”
With no protest whatsoever, Logan gently removed his arm from behind Marie’s back and stepped away from the exam table. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to be doing.
For the first time in his life, Logan wished he was a telepath instead of a walking weapon. He’d give anything to be able to reach Marie now, but he didn’t need a sixth sense to know Jean was right about one thing. He could smell the fear oozing from not only his own pores but those of everyone in the room—except the professor.
Logan’s head snapped to the left, his gaze bouncing from Xavier’s contented expression—was he actually smiling?—to the brain monitor. All the lines were crisp, even and almost flat.
“Jean, look!” Logan barked, nodding toward the monitor. “Does that mean…?”
Jean smiled. “No, Logan, he’s not dead, or a vegetable. He wants me to tell you to take deep breaths and calm down—so do that.”
Before he could calm down one iota, he had to know Marie was going to be OK. He looked back at her, expecting to see her still struggling with whatever was careening through her mind. Instead he saw that she was sleeping, or looked like she was. Another sniff revealed her fear had subsided considerably. At the moment, she had that same almost-smile on her face as Xavier had.
“He’s taking care of her, isn’t he? Are they talking to each other?” Logan asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.
“Yes to both questions,” Jean answered, “but neither of them is sharing their conversation with me, so for now, all we can do is wait.”
Thanks, Chuck, was all the mental message Logan could get out before Scott spoke up—loudly.
“Oh, no, it isn’t! We can do a whole helluva lot more than wait, by God!” he snapped from the opposite side of Xavier’s sleeping form.
Jean sighed. “Scott, really—“
“Did you see what happened just now? Did anyone besides me notice that he—“. One finger stabbed in Logan’s direction. “He held a scantily clad Rogue against his bare chest for several minutes and hasn’t so much as flinched, let alone died?!?” Scott was all but shouting by the time he stopped talking and stalked around the exam table to stand chest to chest with Logan.
“I’d say it’s your turn for a thorough examination, Wolverine! What do you think?”
The truth was Logan had definitely noticed that he wasn’t dead. Now that he knew Rogue wasn’t in any immediate danger, he was as anxious as Scott was to find out why he was still breathing.
“I say let’s have at it. I’ve even got my shirt off already. Try not to get too excited, darlin’. You either, Red.”
And that was when Scott found out that his fist was no match for an adamantium chin.
---------------
I’m so sorry, professor! Oh, God, I knew this was wrong. I’m just evil—
Nonsense, Marie. If anyone is to blame, it is I. I should have prepared you better, waited until you had more control.
I tried to hold it in, like you showed me, but something...it felt...you felt so...peaceful. And it’s been so long since I’ve felt anything like that...I just couldn’t let it go...so soon.
I should have anticipated that. Please don’t blame yourself for wanting a little peace of mind, Marie. Next time, you will know better what to expect and you won’t be so desperate to hang on.
Next time? You mean I have to do this again?
Marie, please try to stay calm. If our friends see your heart rate jumping sky high, it will worry them unnecessarily.
Do they know we’re OK?
Yes, I’ve told Jean that we are both perfectly fine. I could wake both of us up at any time with no lasting effects, but I’m rather enjoying this. Aren’t you?
Yeah. Yeah, I really am. So you said we would be doing this again? Why? Apparently, Jean was right. What happened with Logan was just a...goof.
If you want to learn to control your power, dear, you are going to have to practice. But I can teach you some ways to do that using your mind without any touching involved, at least not right away.
My power was never really gone, was it?
In all my years, Marie, I have never heard of a mutant whose powers just simply vanished. They do, however, evolve and change, usually into stronger, more beneficial powers. I believe that is the case here.
But if my power is stronger, won’t it be that much harder for me to control it? Does this mean I can hurt people by just being close to them, without touching them?
I wasn’t talking about YOUR power, my dear.
Oh…OH! You mean--?
Yes. I’ve given this a great deal of thought. I ‘volunteered’ today so I could test my theory and now, especially in light of how long he was able to hold you afterward, I am sure I was right.
But that means he’s...that he can...that ONLY he can...touch me?
Yes.
Great! Just great! Now I’m totally screwed.
Good heavens, that is a rather harsh, and I dare say, vulgar assessment of--Marie?...Oh, dear, don’t cry. That really will frighten them. Jean! Jean, dear, don’t panic. Rogue is a bit upset. Nothing I can’t handle. Just don’t let Logan see--
“What do you mean ‘nothing’s wrong’? She’s crying, dammit!” Logan’s roar bulldozed the walls of the little mental fortress within which the professor had been keeping Marie calm after their ordeal.
I’m sorry. He saw her before I could— Jean tried to apologize.
It’s alright, Jean. Try to calm him down. I’ll handle Marie.
Haven’t I been ‘handled’ enough? Leave me alone, professor.
“Logan, the professor has everything under control. She’s in a very fragile state right now; it’s a delicate process. Think of it as him doing for her what your healing factor does for you. He’s repairing both her mind and his own. You must let him finish! Maybe it would best if you left for a while,” Jean said, knowing she was wasting her breath.
“No way, lady. Tried that already and look where that got us,” he shot back, waving his arm in a gesture meant to encompass all the events of the last hour. He looked over at Marie, who was stirring on the exam table, her serene expression a thing of the past.
“I didn’t mean you should leave the mansion,” Jean clarified, “just Med Lab, just for a few minutes until he can settle her down. Please, Logan, he knows what he’s doing; you can trust him.”
Logan’s eyes never left Marie’s face. He could see her eyes moving furiously under the closed lids. He fought the urge to try to get inside her head with Xavier by telling himself he wouldn’t know what to do once he was in there anyway. Probably just make things worse and he sure as hell didn’t want to do that.
Rogue’s head was spinning, despite the professor’s attempts to exert some control over her whirling emotions. If she had known a week ago that Logan was the only man on earth who could touch her, she would have done anything and everything to keep him from leaving, including offer him her body right then and there to do with whatever his heart desired. Then it would have been Storm getting an eyeful, wouldn’t it?
Storm? What does Storm have to do--? Oh. I see.
And he did. Xavier saw all of it, the confrontation last week in Rogue’s room, her tearful confession to the weather witch about her feelings for Logan, and then the final blow, finding Logan in Storm’s bed. He flinched at the pain he felt pouring off of Marie as she stood in that hallway.
Oh, Marie, I’m so sorry.
The professor’s compassion was the last straw for Rogue. She couldn’t bear his sympathy, his caring. She didn’t deserve it, not when she would likely have killed him, had it not been for Logan. She let go of Xavier’s calming thoughts—more like shoved them away—sat up, opened her eyes, and wailed at the still form on the table next to hers with all the anguish of a woman cursed with knowing that fate had twisted what should have been her greatest joy into her cruelest torment. She had discovered that the man she loved was also the singular being, human or mutant, who she could truly have in every sense of the word, and still she would die alone and untouched, because he was in love with someone else.
“He doesn’t want me! Don’t you see? Logan doesn’t want me!”
In the next instant, a shadow fell across her and she turned around to find Logan standing behind her, his expression a mixture of shock and anger.
“I don’t want you? Just who the hell told you that?”
He shot an accusatory look at Xavier.
Instinctively, Marie sought to protect her shattered heart using the power she had so recently acquired. Calling up every memory she could think of containing Logan’s back, getting smaller and smaller as it traveled away from her, she hurled them into his consciousness so viciously the force nearly gave him whiplash. Not satisfied that he would catch the symbolism, she sent a more damning image—the Wolverine sprawled across Storm’s bed—accompanied by all the fury of a woman scorned.
Logan fell to his knees, holding his temples, his breath coming in ragged gulps. He could feel the pain and betrayal rolling off of her as her dark eyes glowed with rage. The images played over and over again in his mind as if they were being rewound time and again and replayed for his viewing torture.
Her message was unmistakable, but she shouted it into his ravaged brain anyway.
Who do you think told me, you big oaf?!?
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Author's Chapter Notes:
For purposes of clarification: The internal, telepathic conversation below between Rogue and Xavier is written in regular italics to differentiate it from spoken conversation. For the most part, this pure dialogue is self-explanatory, and the ‘he said’/’she said’ complements are not necessary, which is why I left them out. Words in bold italics are Jean’s comments, of which I think there are two, but I wanted to avoid confusion. There is also the occasional use of italics to denote emphasis or intensity that is not related to the telepathic dialogue. You’re all smart enough to figure all this out; I just needed something to put in a Chapter Note.