Disclaimer: This fan-fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended. Still unbetaed, mistakes are all mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Marie was in darkness.

Total. Immeasurable. Defining as the grave.

You are where you deserve to be, child, Father’s voice echoed through her head, You deserve this punishment, for disappointing me.

And Marie knew he was right. Father was always right.

Something she couldn’t see at the very darkest recess of her mind growled at the thought.

She was hanging weightless now, immoveable. Nothing in her veins but ice-water, the creeping cloy of paralysis sliding along her bones. So cold, so helpless- Her heart-beat nothing but an echo, the feeling of being inside her body a memory she couldn’t really recall. She was dimly aware that there was a world outside- she thought she could hear Remy yelling- but she didn’t want to look at it. She knew it wasn‘t permitted, that she had to remain here and be punished like a dutiful child. She’d dropped like a stone the minute the animal had touched her; All there was in here was her mind and her mind was filled with him-With Father. The only man she had ever really loved.

The only man who had the right to decide her worth and conduct-

And for some reason she couldn’t comprehend that thought made her want to cry.

Because Father was furious at her, she could feel it. So disappointed in her because she had let herself be taken by the animal with the metal-streaked claws. Marie spiralled further and further downwards into darkness, into self-loathing and shame as she remembered what had happened. How as soon as she’d seen the creature something within her had… shifted. Reacted. Started spreading through her body like a virus, like a burning out-of-control heat. The animal’s nearly-human hazel eyes- and why did they seem so familiar?- had met hers and suddenly she’d felt as if she were split apart. Torn. As if someone else was in control of her body, while she, she- She didn’t want to think about what she felt. What she’d wanted to do. It was shameful, wrong, Father had said so. The way her breath had hitched, the way her heartbeat tripled. The way her skin had flushed beneath her clothes where the beast’s hands moved. All was bass-growl tempo and burning heat, his nearness unbearably wanted. The sensation of being close to him a need that fed the blood. Even as she heard her own voice spit invective and vitriol at him her body had ached to touch him. The desire to lay her hands on him so strong she wasn’t sure how she’d controlled it at all. Marie couldn’t understand it: Though she could see that the pain she caused him with Remy’s mutation was excruciating he hadn’t fought back. Why hadn’t she taken advantage of such unexpected weakness? She could have saved Father and her family so much trouble. Could have stopped him taking her away. But she hadn’t. It was almost as if she wanted the beast to steal her from her brothers and sisters-

Marie gasped. She didn’t want that. She didn’t want Father to think that.

And yet-

Some tiny, whispering echo in her head knew that it was true. Marie tried to push the thought away but she could not. Her mind…growled at the attempt. Popped its claws and snarled. Some part of her, she realised, had wanted to leave. Had wanted to follow the beast. Would have gladly walked through fire to reach him, despite Father’s rebukes echoing through her head. The animal was inside her skin, strangely familiar like a skill learned by heart. Or a song half-remembered, though she didn’t know the words. Marie knew that she should be frightened, that the beast was savage, dangerous; Even now she could hear Father crooning a list of the creature’s many crimes inside her head, each act more horrific than the last. Images of battlefields and myriad tortures unthinkable by civilised man were buzzing around inside her cranium, what she had seen the creature do with her own eyes merely confirming the message. The animal is worthless, Father was telling her. Filthy. You must be kept safe from him, he will hurt you-

But Marie didn’t believe that. No matter what Father said, nor how wrong she felt for thinking it, she instinctively knew that the animal would not harm her in any way. That he would protect her, take care of her. Love her. That in some unfamiliar, intimate way… He was hers.

Father’s voice spoke over her then. He sounded furious. Nothing is yours, child, he hissed. All you are is mine- And pain rocked through her skull, unbelievably vivid. Harsh enough to bring tears to her eyes. The agony unlike anything she had ever experienced before, the sensation akin to barbed wire being torn through her mind, her flesh. Her heart. Father kept telling her that all she had to do was recant, that all she had to say was that the animal was nothing to do with her and he would make it stop. That Father would treat her kindly, like he really wanted to. But Marie refused. The image of the animal’s face burning in her mind. The pain increased even as she tried to shake it off, snarling and growling. Trying desperately to find relief and instead only finding more hurt. It just kept getting worse and worse, the agony almost enough to drive all other thoughts from her mind except-

She just kept thinking, No. No. No. No. NO!

Marie began to fight then. Hissed as the pain grew worse, not sure where the idea came from but knowing instinctively that it was right. That it was what she had to do. That whatever else had happened to her, the animal and she were linked, and that that was how things were supposed to be. No matter what anyone else said. Father tried to drive the thought from her mind but she wouldn’t let him. Couldn’t. Even though she wanted to be a dutiful daughter, his precious little girl, she wanted to keep the animal in her heart more. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her: It felt as if something deep inside her was yelling, like there was a part of her voice she couldn’t hear or register that was nonetheless protesting at the top of her lungs. But she didn’t want to stop it. She didn’t want to leave the animal- Logan, his name was Logan- Couldn’t bear the thought of parting with him. It felt like being asked to part with the capacity to hear music. Or the will to breath. Father increased the discomfort, the anguish of it hammering through her like a sledge-hammer, but she wouldn’t stop thinking it. She wouldn’t. It was one thing for her to be condemned to this place and this family, but her Logan deserved better than this. She wouldn’t allow it. He was hers. Hers. Not Father’s. Not anyone else’s. Hers.

And she, whether she understood why or not, knew she was his.

Marie opened her eyes then.

She could taste him in her lips.

Logan’s breath was the next thing she registered, hot against her face. Then the big warm hands she’d missed so much, splayed across her ribs, the blunt fingers digging ever so slightly into her flesh. Warm, he was so warm… His nearness soothing her despite her pain. He was kneeling between her legs, his lips hovering an inch from hers. Eyes closed, face buried in her neck as if he were grieving though Marie didn’t know why. Behind him she could see Kurt and Kitty staring, ashen-faced, Pryde moving to lay a hand on Logan’s shoulder as if in comfort. Kurt muttering something she recognised as the Lord’s prayer. Marie shifted, one hand tracing up his arm, noting with worry the tenseness she felt there. The other hand tangling in hi hair. Trailing down his face, his Adam’s apple to rest on his heart. She wanted him to look at her but he wouldn’t-

And then-

“Logan?” she asked. Name felt unused on her lips, but right. She had to say it. “Logan, sugah… What’s wrong?”

The reaction was instantaneous. He moved to look at her, those hazel eyes staring down into hers, the craggy features transformed. A beat of silence, of disbelief and then- His mouth on hers, sensation and heat and movement shooting through her and Jesus it had been so long since she touched him and she wanted to never stop touching him again. She dimly heard the gasp from the other two, dimly recognised that she would never hear the end of this once Pryde told the story back in the Mansion but she didn’t care. Because he was here, and real, and warm and growling in her arms. He wasn’t a phantom concocted by Essex- Not Father she remembered now, Essex- he wasn’t a monster wearing her lover’s face like Amahl. He was the real, true, genuine fucking article and oh God how she’d missed him-

“That you darlin’?” he rumbled, and his voice travelled along her skin like goose-bumps, making her instinctively grin and nod. Her words lost against his mouth. The big warm hands pulling her closer than she thought she could bear. Kitty laughed in delight, muttering something which sounded like, “About fucking time,” but Marie couldn’t be sure. She was busy. Touching, remembering, re-learning, the feel of him growling inside her head once again and she knew that if Hank were here the pair of them would be making him blush-

“Get a fuckin’ room,” she heard Remy hiss then.

Logan shifted, coming up for air and allowing her to sit upright- he’d been squashing her- even as Remy stared at the pair of them with unreserved loathing. The desk he was sitting on glowing beneath his fingers as he charged it. His handsome face scarred by Essex’ tortures, his familiar black-on-red eyes so unlike those of the man she’d thought she knew. Little as she wanted to do it Marie stood up, one hand still in Logan’s (she couldn’t help herself) and walked towards him. Stared into her husband’s eyes, saw the things he hadn’t wanted her to see. Pain. Self-doubt. Guilt, however much he tried to hide it. And… Love. She knew what that looked like, though she hadn’t learned it from him. For a beat everything was silent, the two simply staring at one another and then- Without warning Remy reached out his hand out to her and laid it gently against her cheek. Never breaking eye-contact. Never looking scared. He flooded into her, dazzling and jagged and glittering just like always, and despite herself Marie felt pity bloom within her, because now she could clearly see what he had suffered for her sake. What he had suffered all his life. He’d lived in this darkness for more wretched years than anyone should ever bear…

They broke apart with a gasp.

“Essex really is your father,” she said softly then. His face twisted at her words but he didn’t deny them. Just shifted to stare at his feet. “You try to help the little ones, you think o’ these kids as your brothers’n sisters.” A particular face flashed through her mind. The Jean Grey clone, whom Remy called Madeleine, and sometimes if they were alone ma petite soeur. She was his favourite, he worried about her. About the way Essex stared at her now she’d a woman’s body though not a woman’s mind. No wonder he’d been so desperate to keep the bastard sweet…

Remy nodded. “Ah was supposed t’be his link t’de outside world, chere,” he muttered. “He send me t’do his dirty work, he send me to find you. Ah de only one o’ his children he let outside, Ah de only one who protect dem from him-” His gaze flicked from her to Logan, something unreadable passing over his face- “Ah de one who dragged ya inta dis Marie, and Ah’m sorry. Ah truly am.”

And finally he looked away.

Marie nodded. It seemed strange, but her anger just wouldn’t come now. The pain of her marriage was far away, echoing through her head like the memory of a wound rather than the wound itself. She felt regret, yes, but for the situation she and Remy had been put in, not for what he’d done. After all, she knew there was no limit to the things she would do for those she loved. The last few months had at least proved that to her, and she squeezed Logan’s hand at the thought. Besides, she understood perhaps better than anyone how impossible Essex was to escape when he got his hooks into you. She’d had the memory of Logan to guide her back to reality, but what if she hadn’t? She didn’t doubt she’d have ended up similar to Remy, or maybe even worse. That there was any kind of goodness in him was a miracle in itself.

Kurt cleared his throat then.

“I for one am ready to go home, liebling,” he said softly. “Beautiful Ororo vill kill me if I don’t get you all back to her safely.” And he smiled, his glowing yellow eyes looking older than Marie remembered. She found herself wondering why.

“Yeah, c’mon, Marie,” Kitty grinned. “Time to get back to civilisation-”

But Marie stilled them. “No,” she muttered. “There’s some kids we gotta give a ride to first.”