Story Notes:
I can’t believe I’ve been away so long. RL, new job, ridiculous hours, no time, exhaustion, blah blah blah. I finally had a day off and put the housework on hold as a little glimmer of an idea came to me. And below is where it went. Apologies that I haven’t been keeping up , I haven’t read anything in so long let alone reviewed so I’ll get to that as soon as I can. Xxx
Finally she hears the unfamiliar but unmistakable swish that signifies her freedom. As if by magic or some greater power, in complete unison 6 thick bolts slide effortlessly back from the impenetrable, unbreakable (tried and tested) position they’ve been in for the last six months.

It takes her a moment to register; she watches them, her brain allowing the pictures to roll in slow motion. She checks their position, re checks and for some unknown reason waits to see if it’s a mistake, some kind of dream or cruel hallucination. She waits for them to slide straight back. Lengthy stares cause her sight to blur, her eyes go cloudy, unclear and untrustworthy , so she blinks not once but twice, clears her vision, focuses and smiles.

Freedom – in more ways than she thought were possible.

She’s done it. Against all the odds she’s made it. Through all the pain, all the sleepless nights and terror filled hours of the day when she didn’t know who she was or where she was, when long hours turned into even longer days. Through each long moment that was stretched and re-stretched and blurred straight into the next, when she couldn’t even find herself, not even the slightest recollection of the girl that was. Finally getting to the other side of the wall where everything she was trying so desperately to grasp on to was always just that bit too far out of her reach – then.

But this was now, and she was here.

More so than she ever had been.

She’s not ready to leave just yet, she needs a moment, needs to let everything sink in. Two turned out to be not quite enough so maybe just one more deep breath for good measure and she steels herself to take one last look around her barren landscape. Nothing here to call home, except the fact that it has been.

Hers and hers alone (not quite the truth) for the last six months.

The canvas still as blank as the day she woke up here she assumes. Nothing remarkable to note except maybe, and she will allow herself to think it because it’s the truth....
her.
She smiles, one that reaches her eyes this time.

She beat all the odds.

She’s still smiling as she thinks, she is a lot of things today but most of all she is Marie. It comforts her more than she ever though it would or could.



. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


It had been 18 months since he left. She wasn’t surprised that he did, she’d long since resigned herself to the knowledge that she would never be enough to make him stay. Even if she hadn’t quite admitted then. She was just a blip on the radar that kept him from his search for a little while at least. Of course there were other blips he found after her, one in particular she doesn’t like to think about. Still after all this time, it hurts, it shouldn’t but there we are, that’s life.

She understands though now, more so than she did at the time. How he acted, the conflict within him, how much he struggled, how he hid what he felt, why he did and how everything played out the way it did. It shouldn’t matter anymore, she knows without a shadow of doubt that her place within him is more ingrained than even he would admit to himself. It’s complicated, was complicated; the intensity, the strength and depth of it but she is more a part of him than anything or anyone has ever been. But the insecure little girl that still lingers in the depths is still and always will be jealous as hell.

She knows so much now, too much perhaps, although not technically her fault she feels guilty, not just for him although he is a huge part of it, she feels like she knows secrets that no-one should know. She knows that she has no right. Those thoughts and memories that lay dormant with in person, intimate, private, memories. Some cherished boxes of picture perfect moments used for need, comfort and dreams. Laid bare for her are some of the sins that we wish we could erase, reminders to our self that we are not always what we want to be. And there are others, memories pushed and buried so deep, those ones we try and forget to try and keep ourselves whole, maybe ease the pain. There as a reminder of what has been. Good or bad they are sacred and meant to be private. Secrets of the soul that are guarded and protected by those to whom they belong. Guilt is not a strong enough word. She owns them now, knows them, all the little secrets, her only path to find sanity was to rape and pillage everything she had stolen.

She prays to a God she doesn’t believe in that they will all forgive her or more to the point that he will forgive her.


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


He left soon after Jeans death. He didn’t even say goodbye. She woke up one morning and just knew. Her heart a traitor and telling her before all her other senses could confer and confirm. Even she was surprised by the impact she felt, more than a punch to the gut and more like being hit by a truck. She wrapped her arms around herself, desperately seeking any kind of comfort and stillness, tried to stop herself from falling. She felt like the world was tumbling and closing in around her.

Crying herself to sleep she had never felt so alone.

The world had ceased to exist in any format that was recognisable and there was no one left to turn to. No-one was strong enough to cover and smother the pretence of normality and there was no one convincing her that the world, *her* world wasn’t falling off the face of the earth.

And fall it did.

The ‘cure’ turned out to be not so much of a cure as a temporary neutering. Bobby finally gave up and walked away, although in fairness to him he was pushed most of the way. Storm tried hard to carry on as if nothing had happened and succeeded for the most part. Children would always be children and have a natural ability to bounce back; adults too were learning to live with the events that had unfolded. A new team was formed, there would always be a need for their kind of help and as she had nowhere else to go she found her place within it. She got better and better, got stronger and stronger until the world finally stopped falling and hit rock bottom, she fell with it smashing herself to pieces in the process.

It was just a simple FOH asshole, just one in a long line of pathetic little pricks preaching about things he knew nothing about. Hurting the innocent in a twisted sick belief that it would make the world a better place. So she’d silenced him with a single little touch. Nothing she hadn’t done time and time again only this time it seemed it was just one touch too many and she silently and peacefully shut down.

Little did she know that this was the calm before the storm.



She remembers it all, the confusion and the sheer, blinding panic riding wave upon wave in her mind. The screaming, Christ does she remember the screaming, ear deafening pitches of terror that would shake her whole body.
The anger, hostility, blame.
Death, destruction, pain - God so much pain.
Condemnation, dominance, weakness and loss.
Evicted from her own mind. Banished to some far off distant place, forced to watch from the side-lines, paralysed and helpless while it was used and abused, her body betrayed and then trapped in a containment cell for as much her own protection as for everyone else until -
Revelation and help for the strongest amongst them.
Hope, knowledge, exhilaration, strength, control and finally, finally came a small measure of peace.

She tells Storm she is fine. No details just the truth. ‘You are stronger than most’ she is told and she nods and smiles because this she now knows and for the first time actually feels it. She grips Storms hand, un-gloved, squeezes it and gets straight to the point and tells her she’s leaving. ‘I have no doubt you’ll find him Rogue’ she smiles again, is this new or was she always so transparent?


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


So many miles and it feels like she’s been around the world and back. She’s travelled through all kinds of landscapes in weather good, bad and extremes of both. More than a few countries’ but with little time to stop and no time to really appreciate the beauty of the places she has seen.
The control she has now over everything in her arsenal as natural as if she’d been practicing with it all her life. Undeniably useful on her journey, she tries not to think how it would not have been possible before. So much power in such a small vessel and it’s a scary thought, a dangerous one too. There’s a ghost like whisper at the back of her mind telling her ‘you’re valuable to the wrong kind of people’ just one in a long line of price’s she must pay she thinks. But she can’t deny how she loves to fly at night and feel like she’s drifting along with the stars who in turn are shining her path. How she loves the smell the rain. To be able to warm herself from the inside out on a cold night and visa versa on a warm one has been a blessing more than once.

It’s been four months but she can feel she’s getting close. The Wolverine is the most unpredictable traveller there is. Born from a need to survive he is so aware, knows the art of evading to the extreme and is compulsively cautious to a degree most would not have words to describe but there are miniscule clues if you know where to look and there is no one better at finding them than her (or him) or in her case a combination of the two.

She picks the lock with ease, another stolen gift from another stolen soul. She surveys with ease in the dim surroundings, it’s exactly what she predicted, functional, practical – so typically Logan. She chooses to sit in a lonely wooden chair tucked in the corner of the room to await her fate. Forgiveness she hopes in any degree would be more than she could hope for, yet she hopes just the same.

Footsteps, as always quiet and stealthy yet heavy for him she notes. More pain? she hopes not. If she was ever to pray for anyone it would be for him, she has seen it all now and more than ever understands and knows no one person should ever have to suffer the things he has.
She hears the lock and the sound of the door as he pushes it open and then she hears the unique slide of metal as claws are unsheathed from his hands.

Of all the gifts she now has available she thinks it’s ironic that not one will stop the hammering inside her chest.

One small inhale and he knows.

‘Marie?’

‘Hey Logan’ it comes out a lot calmer than the continual thumping of her heart would have led her to believe it would.

‘What the Fuck are you doing here kid? And how in the hell did you find me?’

She doesn’t really know how to answer, where the hell does she begin? how does she begin? The silence is deafening and she begins to shake, not with fear but she’s about to blow his world wide open and she..... she thinks she might just want the world to swallow her whole. Marie – well the tiny little insecure version that’s left of what she is now seems to have come back with vengeance.
He seems to know, understands somehow, sheaths his claws and is suddenly on his knees before her, arms open, surrounding her and pulling her to him.

Like a moth to a flame she dives right in.

‘Are you ok? What’s happened? Did someone hurt you?’ his concern, always, always, it’s been there, she’d forgotten that somewhere in those 18 months. She’d twisted the truth. She suddenly feels guilty all over again for spending all that time forgetting what should have been so obvious even through all her insecurity, jealousy and anger.

She laughs, no-one hurt her but her, but she needs to take a minute to gather up any strength that she can.

‘I’m fine Logan.’

Fine she thinks is now a cop out word that doesn’t say nearly enough so she lifts her head from his shoulder and starts at the only point she thinks she can - right at the beginning with ‘you left.’


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .



She tells him everything, all the little secrets of her soul, it’s only fair, after all she ripped out and stole all of his. She tells him how she felt, how lonely she was, how jealous she was. She tells him about the cure (or the not cure) as it turned out, about Bobby and she sees the blades begin to protrude and strokes his knuckles to dissipate the anger she knows is there. She sees him look at her hands and the question that’s in his eyes. Hers plead with him not to stop her now, she’s on a roll and if she stops she might not get through this. He’s so in tune with her that again, he understands, just nods but grabs her hand, his thumb stroking soothingly back and forth over her sensitive flesh. He doesn’t seem willing to let her go. She watches fascinated, eye’s honing in on the tiny action, willing him not to stop and not wanting to let the walls come crumbling down just yet.

Everything has a price.

She steals herself to continue, tells him how she threw herself into her role in the team, how good she was, how fearless she became, tells him how many she helped and how eventually it ripped her apart, inside and out.

She tells him how she woke up in a containment cell and at this point his silence is broken with a growl. She moves her other hand and steady’s it on the side of his face. Calming her and him in one move. He knows there’s more she’s sure of that yet he silently stands up, pulling her with him and she follows.

She could never do anything but.

He props himself up against the head board and she sits in front of him with his arms around her and held there (yet not) by hers. Always protecting. No matter what, she would never forget again.

She told him everything she could, in the best way she could of the struggle in her mind. What she felt, how she acted, how it hurt.
Another growl, arms pulling tighter and the whisper of a kiss to the back of her head.
She turned in his arms then, wanting to, no, needing to see him eye to eye as she went on to explain how she fought, with his help, tried to find herself within the vast mess she had created. How she found a way to clear the path, ripping each soul apart, opening it up and dissecting it bit by bit. Looking through every deepest darkest hole and how as she did so slowly but surely little flecks would disappear. She told him how she learnt how to keep what she may need, gifts that she could now use at her whim, all controlled by her and only her. She told him how long it took, how draining it was, how painful but in the end how she became herself again.

She began to cry, wanting to stay locked in the safety of his arms. Knowing that all too soon it may be gone forever, *he* may be gone forever.

‘Forgive me’ she whispered before she went on to tell him how she had to steal his soul too. How she picked apart everything he was, revealing everything to her. All the death, the blood, his justice and vengeance, his attempts to end his life. Some of which they’d glossed over before when she’d tried to understand the nightmares she was having. Glossed was a good word, it was not surprisingly a short conversation where he seemed like he wanted to escape as fast as possible, to be anywhere else than where he was and she let him when she recognised shame written on top of his uncomfort. She felt guilty then too, as if she’d damned him twice over. This time it was worse though, it wasn’t clouded images in nightmares anymore. Each picture and feeling was crystal clear. She couldn’t afford to break now though so she went on to tell him everything she knew, all his pain, his despair, his anger.....his love.
He closed his eyes then, shut them tightly as if trying to erase what she knew.

‘I’m sorry’ she said, three times before he opened them again. She continued quickly, figuring a sharp knife wound was easier than a jagged one and knowing exactly which part he was least pleased for her to know. ‘ I understand it now, I have no right to know the things I do, and I’m so sorry, there was no other way, survival of the fittest, that’s what you told me and you figured it was better for me to know than for them’ and she plastered herself against him not wanting to know where she began and he finished.

‘Please forgive me’ and her shaking slowed as she felt strong arms slowly stroking her back and his head landing to rest on top of hers.

‘I found more’ she whispered into his chest but knowing he could hear her perfectly. ‘More than you remember and you have the right to know, I don’t know if it will help you or break you, but I had to find you, you’ve been searching for so long I had to come and tell you’ and his body went rigid before it began to shake.

‘You know?’

And she sat up and threaded her hands through his hair and gently pulled him to her, roles reversed she cradled him as she began ‘Your name is James.’

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


They’d been up all night, her doing most of the talking, him alternating between anger and a haunting look of loss. She tried to comfort him, sooth and calm him when needed. She even kissed away his tears. Somewhere in the early hours they were both too exhausted and just laid in each other’s arms.

There was nothing left to be said.

She finally drifted off somewhere near daybreak and when she woke up he was gone.

Dear God it was worse than before, the pain, the loss. Her punishment, the price she had to pay, she’d almost forgotten all had to atone for their sins. It was unbearable. The struggle, the pain – what was the point? But she couldn’t go back.
Three hours later when the tears had dried long enough for her to take some long needed breaths her eyes focused on the piece of paper lying on the chair.

Quicker than lightning she threw herself across the room and managed to read the words clearly despite the fact she couldn’t for the life of her stop her hands from shaking.
.
.
.
.
.
.


I love you kid, though you already know that now it needed to be said, is time it was said.
I wanted to make sure you know that there’s nothing to forgive - you own my soul anyway, always have and always will.
Last night you gave me a past and I have to go and deal with that, you understand that don’t you? But I’ve always known you’re my future so - wait for me? I’m gonna take care of you kid just like I said I would.
I didn’t say goodbye, no need, I won’t be long this time – I promise. Besides, you look so damn beautiful when you’re asleep.
Thank you, for being strong, for being you, for choosing me.
Yours always
Logan x

Her price, a few months to wait – she could live with that, and she smiled and couldn’t seem to break it even if she’d wanted to.

The End.
Chapter End Notes:
Well, there we have it, hope you enjoyed xxx
I have no Idea how this is going to look (formatting wise) I’ve been trying to post the damn thing for three days! It wont accept my text for some reason so I’ve been trying all sorts of ways short of typing the damn thing again (not going to happen) so I’ll apologise here in case needed x
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