Chapter 1
Logan slowly came back to reality, his limbs heavy with sleep and lack of energy and his head fuzzy but filled with one thing.
Marie.
Had it worked?
He remembered holding the girl close to him, waiting to feel the pull of her power as it sucked his healing ability from his body, but nothing had come. His hand had lain uselessly on her smooth face where he had placed it. His stomach had clenched in denial, thinking that the young woman was lost to him- that she had been taken from him. At the time he hadn't bothered to analyse his feelings of loss and grief, too busy trying to keep in control as he had held her lifeless body to him, rocking her gently, praying that she would rally the strength needed to heal. And she had. He had finally felt the pull when he was giving up all hope and then he had blacked out.
But had it worked?
His body and reflexes may have been slow but his senses were as sharp as ever as the smell of Jean Grey engulfed him, her mixture of perfume and soap unique to her, allowing him to identify her before he even opened his eyes. At any other time he would have revelled in the fact that he had her undivided attention, and getting one over on Cyclops, but right now all he wanted was the soft scent of one particular teen and the touch of shy gloved hand proving to him that she was all right, not the bold doctor-like touch of the redhead who was currently running her fingers over his chest, lifting bandages as she went.
Enough of this.
Lifting his hand, he caught the exploring hand, hiding his disappointment at her presence by telling her that it tickled.
“Hey,” she whispered, smiling warmly at him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Great,” he replied, his sarcasm coming to the fore.
He didn't want to be here making small talk with the red headed doctor. He wanted to make sure that Marie was well, to prove to himself that she was alive- that he had made it in time.
“That was a brave thing you did,” she told him softly.
No, not really.
“Did it work?” he rushed out the question, not even giving her a chance to say anything else. Her word would do until he could see for himself.
“She's fine.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. He had made it in time. He had saved her. The images of her flashed through his mind and he glowed in the knowledge that they would not be the last memories of her that he would have.
“She took on a few of your more charming personality traits for a while, but we lived through it.”
He smiled at this, imagining the little brunette growling at everyone who got on her nerves (that would be everyone), swearing constantly, and smoking cigars as though they were air. What a total difference it would have been from her normal quiet self. He felt a tinge of annoyance at having missed it and at the woman's attitude.
“Lived through it.” What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“I think she is a little taken with you.” He was dragged from his thoughts by the doctor’s words.
Marie was “taken” with him. He couldn't help but feel a little sceptical at this. He had seen the looks that she had thrown that boy… What was his name?
Bert? Ben? Iceboy.
Whatever his name was, he could smell the boy’s attraction to her to the point that he could have happily taken him aside and introduced him to cold adamantium, but he had held back. After all, who was he to butt into the kid’s life? He had only known her for a few days. It was none of his business.
Despite constantly reminding himself of this, the wolverine inside had wanted to rip the boy apart whenever he saw his gaze rest on Marie for longer than it needed to.
Then it struck him.
He had feelings for her.
Over the past couple of days, he had grown attached to the fiery Southern girl who had stowed away in his trailer.
But what kind of feelings were they, exactly?
Fatherly? Definitely not!
Brotherly? No.
Friendly? Maybe.
He stopped his line of thought when his keen sense of smell detected the pungent scent of jealousy, laced with victory, coming from the woman whose hand was still held under his own.
He looked into her eyes and saw the attraction dancing deep within. He would have laughed at that familiar gleam in her eyes a few days ago- and found a sense of triumph in getting another one over on Scott- but not right now. He wanted to be left with his thoughts.
He squeezed her hand before releasing it from his grip.
“My heart belongs to someone else.”
Where the hell had that came from?
He knew that she could take the statement as talking about Marie’s crush on him but he knew that she knew what he was talking about.
He watched as she smiled sadly at him and turned slowly around, walking from the pristine medical lab, leaving Logan to analyse his last words.
Marie sat curled up on her side in the room that had now been allocated as hers. After the incident with Logan it had been decided that it would be better if she didn't sleep in the dormitories with the rest of the students, but rather to have a space of her own. After all, they didn't want anyone accidentally touching her deadly skin, which was a possibility – it being far too easy to fall onto someone in the dark.
She hugged a pillow tightly to her, trying to keep herself from flying apart. In the past she had never touched someone with the intention of hurting them, avoiding them at all costs if she could. Yet now someone had actually held on to her on purpose, and the pain of having their memories and mutation forced into her mind and body had been excruciating. And now she was stuck with Magneto in her head for the rest of her days - his calculating outlook on life and cynical thinking filtering her every thought so that she daren't let anyone close. Furthermore, as if the constant inward reminder of his violation was not enough, she could look in the mirror and see the silver streaks of hair that now hung down on either side of her face.
She sighed, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as a tear fell down her cheek. Logan had held her on the train the last time that she had cried, not keeping a distance from her because of her skin but comforting her when she needed it. And now he was in the medical lab a few stories below her feet, unconscious and nearly dead because he had touched her. He had willingly allowed himself to come into contact with her skin, not to hurt her, but to heal her.
She remembered being in that machine, her hands firmly stuck to the metal poles at each side of her as they sucked the new found power out of her limbs. She could feel her life draining away with it. What little of Logan she had left in her head from the night before was screaming at her not to give up and not to lose the fight against the oblivion that was calling to her, telling her that he would be there soon. He would keep his promise. He would not leave her alone.
And he had come.
Though her eyes had been firmly closed as scream after scream was ripped from her throat, the Logan inside her had known that he was there- that he was right beside her, only separated from her by the rapidly spinning cage that she was in.
But she had not been strong enough to hang on and had felt her mind slip away and her body slacken before darkness had claimed her.
When she had come to she was being held close to someone, someone who had their arms firmly fixed around her in an iron grip. Images had assaulted her mind and she gasped as they became firmly lodged in a part of her mind that was ready to receive them.
Seeing metal claws dig deep into soft flesh, feeling the skin split as they dug deep, a deep seated need to protect and keep her safe…
Logan.
He had come for her.
She was suddenly released as the man who had once again saved her life slumped the ground, unconscious, blood seeping from deep cuts and gashes all over his body.
What had she done?
Marie angrily flicked the tears away from her eyes.
The journey back had been terrible. The protectiveness that Logan felt for her had transferred itself to her, showing itself by her anger and violence towards anyone who tried to get close to him. She had snarled and snapped as the Logan inside her head took over her actions. It was as though she was a spectator in her own body, being manipulated like a puppet.
She had snapped and snarled the entire return journey, and despite all attempts at the opposite, had been sent away while the still form of Logan had been wheeled away to the infirmary. The Logan within her, still firmly in control, had lead her straight to the kitchen and she had found herself downing a bottle of beer before she even realised what she was doing. Her mother would have had a fit if she knew what she was doing.
Marie rubbed her dry eyes wearily. She was so tired. She hadn't slept since they had come back from Liberty Island nearly three days ago. As soon as she closed her eyes memories and experiences which were not her own were swimming through her mind, most of them not very pleasant.
Magneto had been in a concentration camp during the war. His memories were that of cruelty and barbarity. Logan's weren't much better, a confusing mixture of incomplete memories, painful procedures, and experiments.
She had managed to fall asleep once, only to wake up in a cold sweat, with a scream not far from her lips. Now she lay awake, her mind working overtime as she processed all the events from the past few days.
Dr. Grey had told her that Logan would be fine. His healing factor was already kicking in. If it hadn't been he would have been dead long before hitting the ground when he had released her.
But she wanted to see for herself and know that she hadn't killed him or hurt him beyond the repair of his mutation.
She knew that the teachers thought that she had a bit of a crush on her rescuer, and she scoffed at their ideas of just what her feelings were: thinking that she was just a normal teenage girl with an attraction to her hero.
She had a deep respect for him, and after feeling the protective attitude that he had towards her, she knew that if ever he needed her she would be there for him. (But then just when would he, the Wolverine, need the help of a puny, undersized teenager with deadly skin?) She would not let those feelings go any further. After all, who was she to him at the end of the day? Some strange kid who had hitched a ride.
And then, thanks the ever-present thought process of one Erik Magnus Lehnherr, her parents’ reaction to her mutation was constantly brought to her mind and then the more recent reaction of Bobby after Logan had stabbed her.
Sooner or later everyone would turn against her, or keep their distance, or send her on her way.
She would not allow herself to develop any feelings for the man who had saved her life. She would stick to friendship. The inevitable heartbreak would maybe be easier to bear if that was all she felt.
She roughly pushed the laughing Logan, who was residing deep in her mind, farther back, wishing that the real Logan was a little less opinionated.
'You are too late with that plan little one,' he laughed deeply, his voice echoing through her mind as she curled even tighter about her pillow, wishing that she could sleep.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hi. So here is chapter 2 (or 1 if you count the prologue
'talk' is Logan and Erik in Marie's head.
Enjoy.
'talk' is Logan and Erik in Marie's head.
Enjoy.
Chapter End Notes:
Hope you liked that. Love feedback. :)
PS. Quick thank you to Moviemom44 for the review - I some how managed to delete it. But anyway I got it and thank you. :)
PS. Quick thank you to Moviemom44 for the review - I some how managed to delete it. But anyway I got it and thank you. :)