Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

Marie had flecks of gold in her eyes.

Logan remembered very clearly the first time he’d noticed it. It had been a Sunday morning, and she’d turned over to face him in their bed. Nestling against his side, mouth curving into that almost-shy smile she wore when she was still half asleep. He was cut to Hell- Bucket-head had used him as a scratching post fer about five hours before Storm and Kurt found him- but he hadn’t cared none. Not when she was smiling at him like that. Hair everywhere, skin flushed and warm and so fucking soft he sometimes wondered whether she was real. He smiled back down at her, gently pulling her arms above her head. Watching the way her body stretched out for him, back arching upwards in half-conscious arousal. She’d kissed him lovingly, lightly, eyes half open and staring into his- And in that moment, that almost perfect moment, he’d realised two things.

Firstly- Marie had flecks of gold in her eyes.

And secondly- He was happy. He was really fucking happy, for the first time that he could remember.

And it had scared the living shit outta him.

Logan frowned then, brows drawn together in pain. He tried to focus on the source of it, tried to drag himself out of the haze that his mind was in- But he couldn’t. Somewhere deep inside him he knew he shouldn’t be doing this, knew drowning in memory was a killing art; Even his inner Wolverine was demanding he get up, fight. Make with the claws and the gutting and the rage. But he couldn’t seem to leave these thoughts behind him-

And Marie’s golden-flecked gaze was still gleaming behind his eyes.

“Do you love me?” he heard her ask then. Like she was in the cell with him.

“Do you love me, Logan?”

He opened his eyes, saw her. Beautiful and young and healthy and- and here.

Logan opened his eyes more fully then.

Tried to raise his head, to focus as he watched Marie walk slowly, gently towards him. One hand over her mouth in pity, those brown eyes wide and kind. She knelt down in front of him, holding him to her, little arms wrapping tight around him and pulling him closer. Fingers tangling in his hair and murmuring his name. Logan inhaled her scent, leaning into her. So tired and hurt and fucking exhausted by what had been done to him that he hadn’t the energy to pull back. He couldn’t pretend that he didn’t want her right where she was now-

And again she said it. “Do you love me, Logan?” She was holding his face up to hers, gaze searching. “Do you- Do you want me?”

“I never wanted anyone but you.”

And it was true. Had been fer years. Ever since she’d joined the team, ever since he’d realised that she’d gone and grown up. Golden flecked eyes and round, soft flesh and a throaty, whispered drawl had been all he’d wanted. All he knew he’d ever want. And now she was here, she was close and safe and she wasn’t angry with him- She wasn’t leaving him- He hadn’t fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him, and Jesus, the relief of it-

“That’s enough,” Creed’s voice sounded then.

She turned to see Sabre-tooth standing behind the closed door of the cell. A vicious leer on his face. Logan could smell how turned on he was and their situation came back to him with sudden, blinding force.

They’d found her. They’d found her and brought her in. Fuck.

Instantly his lips drew back in a snarl. Hackles rising, strength flowing into his body as something older than thought or logic hissed through his bones: The will to protect what was his from harm.

“No, shuggs-” Marie said softly. “Don’t, he’ll hurt you-” She shifted her little body to shield him, her expression frightened- Like it had been on Liberty Island. Something tugged at his memory, some warning that that wasn’t quite right and he sniffed more deeply, testing her scent- But it was her alright. It was definitely her-

He popped his claws then.

“Move, Marie,” he muttered. Concentrating, focussing his strength. They were getting outta here right now. The idea that Marie was in danger was enough to cut through the drugs, through the haze his mind was in. She was here. She needed him.

And if Victor so much as raised a hand to her, he’d end his brother’s worthless fucking life.

Vic grinned then. “Oh look, Mean-streak: Your boyfriend’s getting broody.” And he beckoned with one nail to Logan. “Come on, little brother, try and stop me-”

And fast as lightning Creed darted forward, grabbing Marie by the hair and hauling her in front of him. She screamed, smashing her fist into his jaw but it didn’t even slow him down: Give Victor enough adrenaline and you could have hit him with a truck, it wouldn’t stop him any. Marie began to holler and thrash as Creed forced her back against the wall, his hands clawing underneath her clothes, nails raking at her flesh. The scent of her blood hit the air suddenly- And it was her blood, Logan would have recognised the smell anywhere- and maybe it was adrenaline of his own or sheer naked desperation but Logan got one arm loose. Not even noticing the pain of dislocating it at the shoulder as he swung his feet back against the wall. Pushing hard with his feet and torso against the remaining chain. He slashed downwards with his claws, the metal gleaming wickedly in the light as drove it into his arm. His blood sluicing downwards and slicking up his wrist enough to perhaps yank it loose. He pulled- once, twice, three times- the skin cutting from where the chain-cuff dug in and then suddenly he heard Victor give a howl of pain. Turned just fast enough to see his brother dart away from Marie as if he’d been electrocuted. She musta used her mutation on him-

That’s my girl, Logan thought then.

“You bitch,” Victor snarled. Grabbing her by her hair and smacking her forehead painfully into the wall before tossing her from him. Keeping well clear of her skin. She skittered back towards Logan, her breath coming in little pants. Tears in her eyes from Creed’s attack. Victor threw her a filthy look, muttering something Logan didn’t completely catch about a restraining collar before storming out. Marie crawled back towards him, laid her dark head against his chest. His free arm went around her, his mind already teeming with the idea that he would have to get loose now- “Ah can feel him inside me, shuggs,” she was whispering. “Ah can feel-”

“It’s alright,” he soothed her. “It’s alright darlin’, you’re safe. You fought him off.”

“This time. But what about the next time, Logan?” And she turned those massive, chocolate brown eyes on him. “What if next time he hurts you?”

“Let me worry about that.” A beat passed and then she smiled up at him, her anger over what he’d done to her apparently forgotten in the trauma of being brought in. Or maybe she’d seen how hurt he was and decided to forgive him. He didn’t fucking care. Her little hands were curling in his hair, her scent washing through him. Once again his inner Wolverine snarled, unwilling to accept that this was really Marie though the man in him knew her. Knew those gold flecked eyes and that Southern drawl. Besides, their nose never lied, and both her scent and blood matched up- it was her. Even the Wolverine had to allow the evidence of its own body-

So for the first time in two years he held her. Kissing her lightly as she cried. Soothing her, planning their escape. Knowing that even chained up and bruised and beaten there was no place on earth he’d rather be-

If only the Wolverine within him were as fucking convinced.

“Ain’t this a little cruel?” Vic asked.

Watching Rave cuddle up to Logan, pouting and whining like the little fucking girl they both remembered from Liberty Island. If it hadn’t been for the drugs in his system and her doctored scent Logan would have seen through it in a second- But gee whiz, he hadn’t.

Which meant that Vic’s life was about to get pretty fucking entertaining.

The boss man cocked an eyebrow at him then. “Are you serious?”

“I’m just saying. This is emotional torture fer the sake of emotional torture. We’re not even asking him questions.” He shrugged. “Why go to all this trouble?”

“Because he fucking deserves it.” And just fer a second the boss man’s calm demeanour slipped. Something even Vic thought was nasty moving across his face. “That sonofabitch deserves every kind of torture known to man,” he hissed. “And until he’s handed over I intend to deliver it.” His expression dared Victor to argue. “Problem?”

“No.”

“Good.”

A beat.

“Why’d you hate him so much?” Creed asked quietly then. At the other man’s cocked eyebrow he added, “C’mon, I’m a member of the gene pool too: I got my reasons fer hating Jimmy-boy’s guts. What are yours?”

“He left someone I loved to die.” The other man’s hands straightened, the beginnings of his claws edging through the skin. “And now he makes out he’s a hero. Him and those three little bitches of his, that family he’s never fucking deserved: They all convince the world of the myth of the mighty Wolverine.” The younger man’s hazel eyes flashed up into Victor’s, the expression merciless. Teeth drawn back in a snarl. “It’s bullshit. Everything to do with the him is bullshit. And when I’m through with him the world will know that.” And with that he turned on his heel and walked sharply away, leaving Vic shaking his head. Surprised at encountering a new way to hate his brother, when there were so many to choose from already.

“You certainly have a way with people, Jim,” he muttered.

I just hope I get to enjoy the show.