He lights up when she walks in a room.

Always has done, suspect he always will do. Doesn’t matter whether it’s the garage when Rogue’s sneaking back into the Mansion bearing contraband- (What? The Jube needed her Cosmo…) Doesn’t matter if she’s eyeing one of the bikes for another unplanned and wholly unauthorised road trip down South- (Family shit… Whatcha gonna do?) Doesn’t even matter that he’s a teacher and he’s with another teacher and he’s been telling himself he doesn’t want her for practically a decade- (Denial as superpower: Discuss). Fact is, soon as Wolvie sees Marie he just melts, and everybody knows it-

Of course when the room in question is one of the Infirmary’s “penalty boxes,” as it is tonight it ain’t nearly so romantic as I just made it sound.

And the fact that he’s covered in blood- and it’s his own- also kinda sucks the Hallmark outta the moment.

Feel Laura ghost into place beside me then, her thin, strong arms wrapping around my waist. She’s tucked her chin onto my shoulder and I can sense the tension coiling through her. Feel the anger she hasn’t really the words to express yet vibrating through her frame. See the thing is, she loves Logan as much as I do- So watching him through a one way mirror, the Wolverine right at the surface and snarling for his Roguey, is upsetting to her. Bringing back bad memories of the Institute. Bringing back bad memories of what was done to her. I wrap my arms around hers, stroking at her knuckles where the claws come out. She purrs a little, tightening her grip on me. Telling me in in only language she’s truly fluent in that she’s just glad I’m here. The scent of our contentment must have leaked into Wolvie’s penalty box because he raises his head, looking straight at us through the mirror. There’s nothing of the man I know in that gaze, but I recognise the mean sonofabitch the government made outta his inner beast right away. It’s the same bastard I remember seeing the day Marie realised she could touch Steve. At seeing his look Laura draws her teeth back, a small growl escaping from her. Like every feral I’ve ever known she has the protectiveness thing down pat. I try to hush her, whispering gently that it’s nothing, that he won’t try anything-

I can tell that her inner beast doesn’t entirely believe that but she’s willing to give Wolverine the benefit of the doubt. For now.

Door opens somewhere to my right then and I see Rogue and Rogers walk through it. Her hair’s down and she’s not wearing any makeup, the princess me and Laura managed to conjure for her big night with Steve now hidden behind an Xavier School tracksuit and tee. Doesn’t matter though; Steve’s holding her hand and staring at her like he thinks she’s an angel. He’s also draped his leather jacket over her shoulders just in case chica decides to turn Southern belle and catch herself a chill. Even if I hadn’t been the one to pick them up from the hotel suite me and Stark arranged (What? They needed some alone time…) their relationship would still be obvious. There’s this…aura of excitement and contentment that surrounds them, the tell-tale jitteriness of those who have recently realised that they’re in love. I remember how that feels. Laura shoots Steve a small smile- they get along really well, miracle of miracles- and he smiles uncomfortably back, giving me a little nod in greeting. I can tell he’s really nervous about the situation but he’s trying not to let it show. “How is he?” he asks quietly, nodding through the glass to Logan. “Has he-”

“He is demanding to speak to Marie,” Laura tells him stiffly. Her hands tighten beneath mine. “He is… He is claiming that we are keeping his mate from him.”

I hear Rogue give a sharp, annoyed little breath. “So that’s why Jeannie wanted me to shower,” she mutters.

Steve’s eyebrows rise in incomprehension and Rogue shrugs. “He’ll be able to smell you on me. Smell the way we…”

And she trails off, the pair of them blushing identical shades of crimson and looking at the floor. Roger’s hand tightens on Marie’s though, and he looks up first, giving the room in general a challenging look. As if daring anyone to say anything about his girl, now that she’s finally decided that she’s his. I smile despite myself, liking the show of bravado from the guy. Sometimes you just gotta stand up for your honey, no matter what people might say. Rogue must like it too because she turns and plants a tiny kiss on his lips, her cheeks if possible turning a deeper crimson. Wraps her arms around his neck, whispers something quiet I don’t catch in his ear. He nods though I can tell he doesn’t like what he’s agreed to. Roguey gives his hand a final squeeze and walks towards the entrance to Logan’s cell, her head held high and her shoulders set. She pushes the door open and at the edge of my mind I feel Doctor Grey pressing lightly. She’s somewhere up in the Observation Booth, watching this mess play out from a safe distance- And isn’t that just Jeannie’s MO to a tee? But I push her presence away and to be fair she takes the hint. Lets me.

I feel the tiniest stab of pity for her, because I know that watching the man you love try to get down and growly with another woman must really, really suck.

Watch as the Wolverine takes in Rogue’s presence then. His posture hunching over, shoulders rolling. Nose sniffing and taking in her scent, his eyes narrowed to mean little slits. This isn’t Logan, not really. It’s not even really his inner animal, because him I’ve had to deal with and he’s actually kinda cool. No, this is the Wolverine, the thing Weapon X turned him into. It’s Logan without the good parts, Logan without his soul. I can tell Rogue’s come to the same conclusion and I wonder whether she’s disappointed that it’s not the guy she loved all these years but his evil twin that’s been hollering for her all night long. My girl’s a professional though and she keeps her gaze steady. Leans against the door, arms crossed tightly while she stares the Wolverine down. There’s a flash of movement almost too fast to follow and suddenly he’s in her face. One hand planted in her hair, the other at her hip. His nose pressed firmly against the delicate skin behind her ear. From the corner of my eye I see Steve start, make as if to go in there. Laura stops him, murmuring that Marie can take care of herself and if she felt she couldn’t we would certainly know by now. I can tell Rogers doesn’t like the answer but allows it, manages to get a handle on his temper and calm some-

Just to be safe Laura stays close to his six though.

There’s a reason myself and Laura are here tonight and it’s not really to protect the Wolverine.

I turn back to the cell to see Marie holding still then, her eyes fixed on some point in front of her. Every inch of her stiff and unyielding, the body language disengaged and totally, utterly cold. I can’t hear what the Wolverine’s saying and she hasn’t spoken yet; It’s obvious from the look on her face though that our boy ain’t exactly spouting poetry in her ear. He’s grinding himself against her, an action I know would embarrass the Hell outta him were he in his right mind: Logan’s a lotta things but he’s never been an asshole with the women that he trains. When Rogue doesn’t respond to the He-Man treatment however he growls, tries to move his hand lower across her belly. It’s obvious where his touch is headed and she swats the hand away, finally getting pissed. Again Steve makes to go in there, again Laura stops him: Rogue’s already twisted herself out of the Wolverine’s grasp, planted a quick, sharp rabbit punch to the back of his head. Leaving him disorientated and annoyed. He hisses in the pain, going for her; She jabs at him again, makes to take off her glove.

“Ah swear, Logan,” she murmurs, “Ah swear you do this and Ah’ll drop you-”

The Wolverine’s smile is predatory. “If you want me inside you that much,” he purrs sly, “then all you gotta do is ask, baby.”

And he tackles her to the ground, pinning her. Forcing one knee between her thighs as she struggles there and cusses enough to do a fleet of sailors proud. Maybe it’s the crassness of the come-on, maybe it’s the stress of being dragged outta bed in the Astoria. But Rogue smashes the heel of her hand into his jaw and knocks him clear off her. Jumps to her feet and kicks him where he lies. Because now, ladies and gentlemen, my girl is Officially Pissed. He grabs her foot, yanking it and knocking her onto her back again. She calls on Pete’s power, making her skin metallic and smashes her fist into his jaw. The Wolverine lets out a string of cuss words, dazed by the blow: Within seconds she’s on her feet, her posture dropping like she’s about to engage an opponent- Which given the way the Wolverine’s reacting she kinda, sorta is. They circle one another, feinting, shadow-boxing. It’s part battle and part mating dance and the eventual winner is something I honestly don’t think I can call. “I wanna talk to Logan,” she’s hissing, her voice breathless. “Ah ain’t dealin’ with the messenger boy: Get the boss-man up here right the fuck now-”

“Logan’s not here,” the feral murmurs as he jabs at her. “’Fraid you’ll haveta deal with me, sweetheart- Haveta deal with the monster and not his fuckin’ leash-”

And he makes to touch her again, eyes glinting. She swings at him, another dirty rabbit jab to the back of his head before bringing her knee up to slam into his groin so hard that even Laura winces- And violence-wise my honey isn’t easy to impress. The Wolverine smashes his fist into her abdomen though and she curses, her leg smacking soundly into his chest in a roundhouse kick that makes even my teeth shake. She wraps her legs around his waist, squeezing tightly. Yanking his hair so hard with her little hands I’m surprised it doesn‘t come out. “Don’t bullshit me,” she’s saying, voice breathless. “Ah’ve known you for a decade. Logan’s here, he’s always here. He just occasionally likes to let you do his dirty work when he don’t wanna be the bad guy-”

The Wolverine’s laugh is more like a snarl. “He is the bad guy, he’s always been the bad guy-”

“He ain’t the bad guy,” she hisses, “That’s just his get outta jail free card talkin’-”

And without the slightest hesitation she calls on Carol’s power, levitating herself upwards.

Knocking the Wolverine backwards a single, powerful, unmercifully hard kick.

He lands messily against the wall to the right of us, the blow hard enough to hurt anybody normal- So it’s a good thing that normal has never been the watch-word when you’re dealing with the Wolverine. I see it then, see the real him come to the surface. It’s in the slightly softer tilt of his eyebrows, the turned down sorrow of his mouth. In the shifting of his hands to keep the blades away from her, as if he’s secretly terrified that they’ll accidentally pop out and hurt her again no matter what he does. Rogue must see it too because her stance eases. She lands lightly on the floor beside him, not too near but close enough to reach out for if he feels he must. For a moment their eyes lock, that Vulcan mind-meld thing they sometimes do going on between them. The slight cock of his head showing his contrition, the tiny drop of her shoulders showing her acceptance of the closest thing to an apology she’ll ever get. He puts his hand to her shoulder, gripping lightly and whispers something. She shakes her head, biting her lip and then whispers something back. For a second Logan’s eyes stray to the mirror and I can tell he’s looking at Steve; I swear I could stare at his expression for a year and not see even half of what’s going on in his head. And then just as suddenly his eyes are back on Rogue; They’re warm. Loving. His arms cradling her though there’s something defeated in his posture as he reaches out to bring her hand to rest against his heart. He tugs the glove she’d half removed down, tucking it into the leather jacket cuff. Twines his own fingers through it, darts a kiss onto her knuckles quick as you please. She sighs, worried. Restless. Uncertain.

But it’s the guilt in both their expressions that strikes me the most.

“It wasn’t right, kid,” I hear him say then. He’s making sure to sat this loud enough to be heard by his audience. I can tell this is as much an apology to Steve as to her. “It wasn’t right what the other one felt- what he wanted me to do to you. It wasn’t right that he got out tonight, that he tried to drive your good man away. But he was jealous- So fucking jealous-” His face twists in a kind of anger. “Cos Rogers turned out like he-we- were meant to do…” And he shakes his head, trying to turn away from everyone.

I wanna hold him so badly right now that it’s an actual physical ache.

By the look on Roguey and Laura’s faces I’m not the only one.

“So that’s what tonight was about?” Rogue asks him quietly. “That’s why- Why you hurt yourself in the Danger Room?”

She’s biting her lip as she says it, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Yeah.” And he nods, face torn, expression heart-wrung. The last time I saw him look like this we were putting Scott, Jeannie and the Professor in the ground. “He started whispering about you when you were only sixteen, Marie,” he tells her. “Started telling me how good you looked, how easy it would be to just… To just…” And again he shakes his head, hands fisting together. He looks like he wants to be blind, to have never had sight if it means he doesn’t have to revisit the images that he’s seeing in his head. “And I didn’t want that fer you,” he’s whispering, “You were just a baby. You were just a little girl, no matter what you looked like. No matter what that-that thing inside me said, I’d never, ever let myself do something like that to you.”

And he finally drops his head as if he’s told the most terrible secret man has ever committed to thought or speech. As if he really is that nasty sonofabitch the government made him and not simply the living, breathing, aching monster’s cage in which it lives. I see something- pity or maybe understanding- flicker through Laura’s eyes and I pull her close, holding her tightly. See Steve’s face turn ashen in understanding, as if he finally truly gets how different he and Logan are and why. Roguey nods, biting her lip sharply. Twisting it. Tears streaming down her face now as she realises that the man she loved has always loved her. That he’s been protecting her from himself all along and that he’ll never give it up no matter what it does to him- No matter what damage it’s already done to them both. Laura’s hands tighten on me, her grip on Steve loosening. I guess her senses are telling her he’ll be safe going into Marie if he feels she needs him but he doesn’t move, gives Marie and Logan their space and their moment. Because going in there right now would feel like gloating and that’s not Steve, dude-

Say what you like about ole Captain America but that’s just not who he is.

Marie sniffs then, putting her forehead to Logan’s. Kissing his brow, his eyelids. Sweeping her gloved hands over his mutton-chops to hold him close and look into his face. “Thank you,” she’s saying through a tight throat. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for loving me that much Logan. Thank you for trying to- to give me that.”

And she kisses him once, very softly, on the lips as she says goodbye to him.

I see the look on his face as she does it and it’s unreadable- But when I see Laura looking at him her eyes are bright with tears.

And then Rogue lets go of him and opens the door and wraps her arms around Steve. She’s crying and he rocks her, whispering to her, telling her he loves her. Other shit, private shit that nobody else deserves to hear- And if they try to listen in then they’ll have to deal with me. Me and Laura walk past them into the Penalty Box and check on Wolvie. He’s healing from what he did to himself in the Danger Room, but the rest of him- That I can’t see the wounds of so I’m not sure how long the hurt is going to last. After all, I’m one of the only people who knows how long it takes my Wolvie to well and truly heal. His eyes are on the one-way mirror, staring at it as if he can still see Rogue and Rogers. Gaze looking about a million years older than I’ve ever seen it do, his craggy, perfect face looking about a million years older than my tough-as-dirt old man actually fucking is. Laura’s holding him close, helping him to sit up. They’re sniffing each other which I gotta tell you for ferals is just plain par for the course. Logan grabs Laura’s hand as she moves him, pulls her into his side. It’s more physical closeness than she’s used to from him and she looks at him askance. “I did the right thing, didn’t I?” he asks her, nearly growling. “You smelt- I did the right thing by her, didn’t I, Laura? Didn’t I..?”

And he shakes his head. Eyes riveted on the spot where Rogue’s just been.

My honey nods. “Yes, Logan,” she says simply. “You did right by her.” She reaches down and- in a first for her- kisses him lightly on the cheek. “Some sacrifices are worth it, isn’t that what you told me?” she whispers.

Logan nods and she helps him stand.

Jean walks in then, her eyes red as if she’s been crying. She’s staring at him as if she’s afraid he’ll bite her but he pulls her into his arms and hold her so, so tight. I suppose for her it’s a win. Me and Laura leave them there, not wanting to intrude any. Go to bed and pray we never, ever have another night like this one. Hold each other close in the darkness and remind ourselves how lucky we’ve been where that little sociopath Cupid’s concerned. It’s only a couple of weeks later when Marie tells me that she’s late that I think about what Logan said to Laura. Only a couple of weeks later when it occurs to me to wonder how honest he was being when he told her what some part of her might have wanted to hear.

And then I wonder- not for the first time- just what damage Logan might have done to himself to do right by his Marie. It’s a valid question.

Like I said, every feral I know has the protectiveness thing down pat.