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

She was dying.

His Marie was dying. Just when he thought he’d gotten her back this idiotic sonofabitch had hurt her- Knocked bits of a building inta her-

And now the fucker was gonna pay.

Logan coiled the adamantium chain around his knuckles then, showing his teeth and narrowing his eyes. Pin-pointing every structural weakness in that suit of metal armour and going in fer the kill. He slashed at the joints, his adamantium more than a match for whatever compound the asshole had used in the suit. Twisting his claws like lock-picks and shorting out the circuitry nearest the surface. Then digging in and yanking it out wholesale. Making the suit useless, more of a hindrance than a help. The metal man tried to fight back but with the suit short-circuiting there was little he could do: Logan smashed his fist into the thing’s torso, sharp dirty jabs which knocked him back further before slashing his claws into the armour again. Peeling it apart like a tin can. He hissed as the pain of electrocution moved up his claws but he ignored it: it was only in the mind after all. And the pain he was gonna face when this was all over was way worse. The asshole was still yammering something about saving him but he wasn’t gonna buy that shit: Even through the haze of drugs he could smell the stink o’ the Blue Bitch off him, and he knew better than to think that thundercunt wanted to help him out-

“Logan,” the metal man muttered, “We have to get you out of here- Marie is waiting-”

“Don’t you fucking say her name, you sick prick,” he snarled. Swinging the chain at the metal man’s head and knocking him sideways. Then pummelling at him once again with chain-covered knuckles. He wondered why the dick wasn’t fighting back-

“She’s here, she’s right here and she came for you, man,” the metal moron muttered. “All your girls did. I swear, she’s hauling her Mean-Streak self up here as we speak-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me-”

And Logan launched himself wholesale at the man, wanting him to fight back. Needing him to be vicious and vindictive and a legitimate target. Because he needed to work this, this heart-wrung rage out on someone he’d the right to hurt-

And fortunately fer him this asshole fit the bill.

The metal man fell back then, bracing himself against the wall before turning his weaponry on him. Logan heard a muttered, “Next time I fit a tranq-gun to this fucking thing,” and then he was thrown backwards towards the wall. Some sorta repulsor beam knocking his adamantium ass flying. Within seconds he was on his feet, the effects of his injuries barely slowing him (and why the fuck wasn’t he healing?) but the metal man had done the prudent thing and made fer the exit. Using what was left of the suit’s technology to short the door out, open it and then slam it shut. That wasn’t gonna slow Logan down any though: His claws peeled through the doors like they were made of butter, tossing them aside with barely a thought. Speeding down the corridor after the murdering fuck who’d hurt his girl. Fer someone in a suit of armour the bastard could certainly run but Logan should have been easily able to catch up with him. In fact, he did do, getting out of the corridor just in time to see the metal man smash through a wall and make a break fer it-

And at that moment the Blue Bitch darted into the chamber.

Firing some guard’s gun and wearing Marie’s fucking face.

Behind her were replicas of Kitty and Jubie, also stinking of the Blue Bitch-

And something in Logan snapped at the sight.

He smashed into the three women, taking out the fake Jubes and Kitty first then heading for Mystique. Slamming into her, knocking her onto her back and straddling her. Taking in the stink of the metal man and eau de Blue Bitch which clung to her skin. Ignoring the hint of Marie’s own scent which he detected underneath. That wasn’t gonna fool him. He knew what he’d seen. He forced her back against the floor, his hands going around her throat and squeezing. The pleasure of hurting a person who’d helped hurt Marie giving him fresh strength. Her eyes widened- She looked so like Marie, how the fuck could she look so like Marie?- and she put one gloved hand against his where he held her. Tried to remove the glove and touch him skin on skin but he held the bitch down. Snarling, his anger beyond what words could tell of it-

And behind him he heard Vic start clapping. Saw his brother smiling at the scene. “I think Jimmy boy there likes you, stripes,” Creed muttered-

“Or should I say Mystique?”

And he darted away from them, snickering at what he’d given away. As usual leaving someone else to clean up his fucking mess. The Blue Bitch’s eyes widened- clearly she was put out with the idea that she’d been shopped by her partner in crime- and she began to swear fluently. Struggling, gazing beseechingly up at Logan, one hand still on the one that was squeezing her throat. She was hissing and gurgling, trying to talk but he ignored her: He couldn’t bear to hear that bitch talk to him in Marie’s voice-

And then she said it.

“What kind-” she muttered, breath rasping. “What kind of a name is Rogue?”

What?

Through the pain of loss and torture and the drugs the memory of that first day he’d met her bubbled up through his mind: Brown eyes, black gloves, sass though she was clearly terrified o’ life on the road. And that gaze that had always seemed to look straight through him. Through all the bullshit and the rage and the doubt. But she couldn’t be- she wasn’t- How did she know that?

“I don’t know,” he whispered. Easing the pressure on her throat a little. “What kind of a name is Wolverine?”

“Logan..?” she murmured, eyes tearing up beneath him.

“Marie,” he answered, burying his nose in her neck. Finally taking her scent, letting it envelope him as her arms went around his shoulders, her lips against his throat. She was crying and he tightened his arms around her, instinct just like always telling him to take her pain away. That he’d nearly fucking killed her-

Jesus.

He moved so she could sit up, his hands trailing across her face, thumb at those lips he’d missed so much. Holding her face in his hands. She looked thinner, tired and more careworn than he remembered and he silently wondered what had done that to his girl. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, heart-beat pounding- And then, just as he was about to smile and tell her how happy he was to see her she reached up and smacked the side of his head. Shifting him unceremoniously offa her legs and kicking him where he lay.

“You asshole,” she snapped.

Yup, she was definitely his Marie.

His other two girls recovered then. They took one look at him and Rogue and pointedly looked away, everything about their body-language screaming I ain’t touching that with a ten foot barge-pole before falling back. Kit nodded to him, tossing him a gun and gesturing behind her with a hand. “Ready to go, sensei?” she asked him, like it was any other mission about to turn south. He nodded, ignoring the pain in his chest, in his arms, in his body. Focussing on getting his three girls the fuck outta Dodge and not the pounding of drugs he could still feel in his head. The three darted out, forming a perimeter around him and began moving forward. Marie’s hand brushing his fer a fraction of a second before moving off. They were heading towards the exit, alert sirens blaring, following the trail of man-shaped holes that metal dick had left in his wake like a bread crumb trail-

And just when they saw light ahead he realised someone was standing in their path- Make that three someones. Mystique was grinning at them, her expression viciously amused. Vic was doing likewise, arms crossed in front of him beside another man-

Who looked a lot like him.

Smelt a lot like him too.

What the fuck?

“You’re not going anywhere,” the stranger informed them then.

“Oh, ain’t I?” he snarled. Dropping his stance and getting ready to fight. The three looked more amused than anything, but Logan didn’t give a shit: They were getting outta here now. Marie and Jubes both copied his stance, their powers gearing up and surreptitiously moving in front of Kitty-

And without another word Pryde ran through the wall to her right. Disappearing without a trace.

“Aw, we scared her,” Vic jeered.

Jubie’s grin grew more wolfish. “Hell no, Farrah,” she said. “That’s not it. Chica’s just gone to get us a ride.”

And without further ado she paffed the sonofabitch.