Author's Chapter Notes:
Is it just me or has it been sloooow around here lately? C'mon people, prove me wrong with reviews! ;-) It might not seem it, but we're heading into the home stretch now...
Marie took a deep breath, gathering her strength, and reached out towards the imposing stone wall.

“I’m in control,” she breathed to herself. She placed her hand against the stone and it disintegrated. She pulled at the gap until she had a space big enough for her to get through. Clenching her fists, she ducked through quickly before she could change her mind.

The torrent of Shaw’s thoughts washed over her -- twisted, angry, and vengeful. She gritted her teeth, trying to ward them off so they didn’t overcome her. She grappled with the storm of thoughts and emotions, trying to focus it, contain it, until finally with a last, arduous push, Shaw’s thoughts and feelings coalesced, and Shaw himself stood before her.

Marie stepped back, panting with the effort, her eyes watchful.

Shaw smirked. “Why, little Rogue is paying me a visit! How remarkable.”

“Shut up, you bastard. I know what you were trying to do to me, but you’ve failed. My body -- and my powers -- are my own, and you’ll never get them.”

Shaw took a few steps forward as Marie narrowed her eyes, circling around him.

“And who exactly is going to stop me? You?” His voice was incredulous, mocking. “Pathetic little Rogue? Don’t pretend that you’ve grown a spine now.”

He feinted towards her and Marie shifted out of his way, trying to stifle the doubts creeping up her spine. Now that she was here, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was supposed to do. How was she supposed to get the information she needed, and then get him boxed up like the others?

“I’m in control,” she repeated to herself under her breath, but Shaw heard her and laughed.

“You’ve never been in control, Rogue. Not then, not now. I pushed you around like a pawn on a chessboard.”

Marie felt anger roar through her, bracing her. “You’re partly right. I wasn’t in control then. That person in your mansion -- your so-called wife -- you manipulated her...for awhile, at least. But that wasn’t me. You took away everything that I was -- erased my memories, drugged me, terrorized me with the voices. But that’s over now. I’m not that person anymore. I have my memories back -- my life back.”

She took a step forward, and this time it was Shaw who stepped back, caution replacing the amusement in his eyes. “You have no idea the things I survived -- how hard I fought -- before you even got to me. Before today you hadn’t even met me. And now...” Her voice lowered to a cold hiss. “You’re gonna wish that you never did.”

She looked down at her hand, and a pill bottle appeared. “You’re gonna tell me where Jean is,” she said, her voice ruthless and steady. “And then you’re getting in this bottle. And you’ll never see the light of day again.”

Shaw’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure Rogue? Maybe it’s going to be the other way around.” He smiled. “After all, what do you have that’s so worth living for? Friends? Family?” He tut-tutted with mock sympathy. “That’s right, I stole you away and no one even bothered looking for you. No one cares if you live or die, Rogue.”

She felt herself falter, and took a deep breath, trying to regain her focus, trying to keep his words from affecting her. He seemed to sense his advantage, and pushed harder. “Wait. How could I have forgotten? You and the Wolverine are going to run away and live happily ever after." He raised an inquiring eyebrow, his eyes gleaming as he saw his words hit home. "Or did he throw you aside already?”

She felt the blood drain from her face. Don’t think about Logan, not now, not now...

Shaw pounced, grabbing her by the hair, pulling her face close to his. She forced herself to meet his cold gaze. “I can make all that pain go away, Rogue,” he crooned. “Just imagine. You’ll never have to feel sad or lonely again. Blessed quietude. Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Aren’t you tired of fighting?”

She felt his words snaking through her mind. Don’t let him get to you...don’t let him in... But the temptation of peace...in that instant it seemed so seductive. To stop fighting, to just rest for awhile...

She suddenly thought of Logan’s golden hazel eyes, warm with concern. Even if he loved Jean, he still cared for her. And Professor Xavier, who had been so kind, and everyone else at the mansion, counting on her...

Her mind seemed to suddenly clear. How could she have even considered it? She knew what Shaw intended if he got control.

She pushed Shaw away from her in a burst of force surprising to both of them, feeling the slimy tendrils of his persuasive thoughts slithering out from where they had burrowed into her mind. “You’re a sneaky bastard, Sebastian, but not sneaky enough." She stalked forward, her eyes steady on his as she removed one glove. "It's long past time you met the real me..."
________________________

Xavier straightened in his wheelchair, his eyes meeting Logan's. "She's waking"

Logan cradled Marie tightly to his chest. "Can you tell...?"

Xavier closed his eyes in concentration. "Not yet."

"Logan." Hank's voice was empathic but firm. "We need to be ready. We may have, at best, only moments..."

"I know," Logan growled. He buried his face against Marie's neck, inhaling her scent for possibly the last time. Finally, he set his jaw, pushing up the loose sleeve of her sweatshirt and holding her pale vulnerable forearm wrist up. He brutally suppressed his protective instincts, gripping her arm steadily as Hank slid the needle in. A ruby-red drop of blood welled up against her porcelain skin.

Hank placed his furry blue thumb carefully on the syringe's plunger. They both held their breath, looking at Xavier.

"Almost..." Xavier muttered, his brow furrowed in concentration. His eyes suddenly flew open. "It's Rogue!"

Hank pulled the needle out as Logan buried his face into Marie’s neck, relief washing over him. The tingle of her skin had never felt so welcome, the familiar sensation causing his throat to close up with emotion.

“Logan?” Her voice was tentative, concerned, but he still couldn’t speak, could only squeeze her tighter, breathing in her scent.

“Marie,” he finally managed, in a guttural growl. “Christ...Marie.”

She pushed back against him a little so she could meet his eyes, running a gloved hand over his face gently. “It’s okay, sugar. Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

She looked at Xavier. “Charles -- are you ready?”

Xavier nodded, and they both closed their eyes as Marie transmitted to Xavier everything about Jean’s location she had gleaned from Shaw’s mind before she contained him.

Xavier sagged with relief. “Rogue -- you cannot imagine how much this means to us -- to all of us.”

He looked at Logan. “I have already instructed Ororo to start the jet. I suggest we leave immediately. Henry will see to Rogue.”

Logan’s arms tightened reflexively around Marie. “I need to talk to you.”

Marie drew away from him, looking at the others self-consciously. “It’s okay, Logan. Go ahead. We can talk when you get back. Go get Jean.”

“Marie...” he growled.

“Go on,” she repeated stubbornly.

Dammit, she was right. Focus on the mission. “You rest,” he said. “Because I wanna talk to you as soon as I come back.”

His voice sounded ominous even to his own ears, but she simply smiled, her eyelids already beginning to droop with fatigue. “Okay.”

He turned back at the door, but Hank was already fluttering around Marie, putting a bandaid on her arm and murmuring answers to her questions in a low voice. Focus on the mission, he told himself again as he followed the hum of Xavier’s wheelchair down the hallway.
_________________

She didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but it must have been hours. Her limbs were weighted and heavy but she felt relatively rested, the exhausted headache that had clouded her mind gone as a commotion in the distance pulled her toward wakefulness.

She slowly opened her eyes, rubbing the sleep from them. More clattering and low voices, and she softly opened her door, stepping out into the hallway. A few more steps, padding quietly in her bare feet, and she was able to see over the gallery railing into the hall below. That muscle-bound young man -- Piotr, she remembered -- was supporting a limping Scott on his shoulder. And behind them...Marie’s heart leaped and dropped in the same moment.

Logan, looking exhausted but unharmed, carrying in his arms a woman. Her red hair blazed bright against the dark leather of his uniform jacket, and she recognized Jean instantly from Sebastian’s thoughts. She backed away a step, feeling like she was intruding, and the movement must have caught his eye. His intense gaze met hers for a moment, and then she turned away, going back to her room and shutting the door.

He’s safe, and he’ll be happy. That’s all that matters. The words made sense in her head, if only she could get her stupid, stupid heart to agree...

A knock on her door startled her out of her dark thoughts.

She opened the door, unable to entirely suppress a squeak of surprise at Logan’s massive bulk crowding the doorway.

He peered down at her, his voice gruff with irritation. “Why’re you lookin’ so surprised, Marie? I told you I wanted to talk to you as soon as I got back.”

She felt the flush creeping up her cheeks. “I just thought...where’s Jean?”

He rolled his neck restlessly, cracking the vertebrae. “She’s fine, just drugged up. She’s with Scott.”

“Scott?” Marie heard herself repeat stupidly.

Logan’s gaze sharpened on hers, suddenly intent. “Yeah, Scott.” He paused for a moment, still studying her. “Her husband,” he added.

“Oh, Logan...” Marie ducked her head, feeling like her heart was going to break all over again, this time for him. To have to live in the same house with the woman he loved when she was married to someone else...

His leather-gloved hand was firm on her chin, tilting her face up to his again. She felt her breath hitch in her chest as his thumb grazed up her cheekbone.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours, Marie?” His rumbling voice was gentle, inquiring.

“I...” She stopped, confused.

He watched her for another long moment, and then his puzzled eyes suddenly lit with comprehension. A soft laugh, as he leaned his head against the doorframe.

“Fuckin’ firecracker.” His voice was rueful -- almost amused. “So Jubilee told you I had a thing for Jean? Is that what all this has been about?”

“It’s not her fault...I should have realized...”

“I’m comin’ in.” His voice was matter-of-fact as he practically pushed her backwards into the room, his warm body crowding her back toward the bed. He sat heavily on the edge of her bed, pulling his boots off.

“C’mere.” A strong arm around her waist, and he pulled her down to lie next to him on the bed.

“Logan...” she started, trying to sit up, but his hand came up, nestling her head against his shoulder.

“Hush.” His voice was a low rumble against her ear. “I’m about to start talkin’ about my feelings and shit and it don’t happen often, so get comfortable.”
Chapter End Notes:
Aw, so Marie and Shaw finally slug it out, and Marie and Logan finally hug it out. Or at least start to. The chapter was getting hella-long, so I had to cut it off somewhere. Next up is smut, and then we're off and running to the big finish! Please review. :-D
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