Sitting in my bedroom I stared at the wall trying to think of why it was happening, and why I felt nothing but anger in response. Remy had admitted that he had feelings for me, they hadn’t faded since the summer when we dated. He tried to convince me to stay away from Logan a while. He claimed that all that ‘dah wolverine’ wanted with me was sex.

“He don’ love you like Remy do, chere.” He murmured, his dark ruby eyes staring into mine as we sat outside in the gazebo.
“I know that.” I murmured slowly in response. “We’re just friends.”
“We both know very well dat Wolvie want more, no?” His voice was almost amused at my ignorance.

“No we don’t.” I muttered immediately. I paused thinking it through. “I don’t, anyways.”
“You jus’ take a couple drinks an’ if he provokes you,” he shook his head annoyed. “You do what he wants.”
I glared at him. “You’re wrong, if that was the case we would have done something sooner than my birthday.” I told him sternly.

Remy shrugged. “Now may happen more often, no?” He rolled his eyes “You wouldn’t cave if I said what he says to you. Wolvie has something you like.”
“Fuck off Remy,” I growled angrily. “You have no idea what I like.”

He stood up and leaned into me, but I pulled away from his lips this time. I watched him, as he smiled and put his hands on both sides of my face. “I know what you like chere.”

*

I had been putting off getting my bandages rewrapped for a long time. I knew why as she pulled the ones wrapped around my torso off, and I looked at the damage in a mirror. It was a cut right across my stomach, and there was going to be a scar. It was too deep to not leave one. I took a deep breath and started rewrapping myself up. I was standing there in the med-bay in just a bra and jeans when Logan walked in.

He sat down looking at me at first, before he muttered a sorry and shifted his gaze to the ground. I would have rolled my eyes, and what I said was meant to come out as a joke but it somehow sounded sad. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He looked at me again, in the eyes. I felt my fingers numbing from being cold as I finished wrapping the gauze around myself and finally turned to him. He got up, his gaze not leaving mine was he walked closer to me, and I felt his fingertips trace lightly along my new bandage. He looked down at it, and I could see in his eyes exactly what he was thinking.

Like he had failed in protecting me.

I caught his hands in mine, and he opened and closed his eyes slowly before pulling me into his arms gently. His faded pale red shirt was soft, as I leaned my face against his chest and sighed. He spoke for the first time.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured gruffly. His voice not harsh but still using that strong Logan tone of his. He took in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” This time when he spoke it sounded very different. It was broken, and disheartening to think that three words could be filled with so much pain, sympathy and hope at the same time.

I pulled back, only to look at him, but after he looked me in the eyes he glanced down, unable to hold my gaze. This was not the Logan I knew. This Logan was regretful.

He walked over to the chair nearby and picked up my shirt, handing it to me. I had a brief moment of Déjà Vu to when he had handed me my shirt that morning in his bedroom. But he was so different now. This Logan wasn’t beaming with the overconfidence of having slept with his best friend, and amusement of her embarrassment.

This Logan was crushed and desolate. Pained by seeing harm come to me, and grieved by seeing something he believed he could have stopped, even when he couldn’t have. He didn’t look at me as he walked over to the nearby bed, and sat down. “I want you to take my power.” He folded his hands together, clenched tightly, before he looked at me. “I want you to heal.” I shook my head as I walked to his side, but he gave me a look that made me keep objections to myself. “Please Marie.”

I took a deep breath and held out my hand to him, trying to focus on only taking his power. He shook his head at me carefully and the corner of his lips only slightly pulled up. He was having difficulty smiling. He took my hand and pulled me to my feet, before leaning in to trace my lips with his.

It wasn’t hard to lose control when he was kissing me, holding me close in his arms. Without realizing it, my arms wound their way around his neck, pulling him closer, intertwining my fingers into his hair. I felt him moan against my lips, and I inhaled the scent of cigars, engine oil and pure arousal. It was that moment when the pull started to drain him.

His lips did not grow still as I had expected. He was fighting it, with everything he had, mashing his lips against mine savouring every moment. Finally I pulled away from him, and he collapsed on the bed. It hurt me so much that I knew it meant far more to me than it ever could to him. He only wanted me because of Jean.

And I loved him. I knew I loved him. But love is supposed to feel good, this is so far beyond agony I cannot begin to explain. A sob escaped me as I backed away from his unconscious body laying on the bed, and I tried to make my ragged breaths stop but they wouldn’t.

The pain might be worth it, it reminds me he was there.

I wrapped my arms around myself, and began to tear off the bandages angrily. The scar was gone, but there was a deeper one within me that could not be erased by Logan’s kiss. I fell into the chair behind me, pulling my knees against my chest. My gaze quickly shifted to where I saw movement at the doorway, where Remy was standing.

“Just friends chere?” He shook his head, and walked away.
That was when the tears wouldn’t stop.
Chapter End Notes:
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