Dinner was nice. Logan took her to a quiet steakhouse, and they were seated discreetly at a table for two in a shadowed corner, their table lit mostly by candle light. After dinner they even danced a little to the music – some sort of fusion of jazz and country – coming from the old jukebox in the corner.

It wasn’t until they were on their way home that Logan’s mood seemed to shift. Suddenly becoming pensive and thoughtful, his thumb massaged her hand through their gloves as he drove. Until suddenly he pulled onto the shoulder of the highway and shut off the engine. For a moment he sat in silence, seeming to mull over what or how he wanted to speak. Eventually he began softly, haltingly, clearly unusually nervous.

“The first time I saw you... I knew you were special, you walked into that shithole and you brought in with you... peace... like the first snowfall of winter, the first flower of spring, the stillness of a clearing in the forest in the middle of summer... at first that made me want to grab hold of you and never let you go... I craved something different, softness, sweetness... then that asshole with the knife charged in, and I heard your scream, and I smelled your fear, and even though I recognized it was fear for me, not fear of me, I realised how much of an asshole I was for wanting to tarnish you, your innocence and light with my life, with my darkness, and cynicism, and... well just me in general—”

“Logan, that’s not—” Marie tried to interject.

“Hush, let me finish, before I chicken out and do something stupid like take off again,” Logan cut her off, with a lopsided grin shot at her, before he moved his eyes back to where he was clutching her hand tightly.

“I tried to leave you behind but I guess fate, God, the universe – hell if I know what exactly – had other ideas... even when you were in my truck I was still sticking to my guns, I couldn’t leave you behind in the snow but I could just as easy leave you at the next town, or the next gas station. When I went flying through the windshield of the camper you know what the one thought that went through my mind was?” he asked softly.

“That maybe you should have taken my auto safety advice and put your seatbelt on?” Marie teased cheekily.

“Smart-ass,” Logan murmured, shooting her another grin before he continued. “It was about you though, the one thought that kept playing through my head was, ‘she has to be alright’, before I’d even hit the ground I knew there was no way I would be able to leave you behind, some part of me was already desperately clinging to you. When I woke up in the lab and you weren’t there I was terrified, not for me but for you, were you not there because you were—in some morgue somewhere, had I failed to protect you... I watched you all day after I got out, after the Professor explained to me what the hell was going on at least. Even though I knew you were safe, I still couldn’t leave you, I know the Prof thought I stayed because of Magneto – they thought he was after me to start with – but it wasn’t worry for me, it was all you.

“When I woke up that night with you on my claws... I just about died when I realised I hurt you, you were as good as dead and I did that to you... when I woke up, and the Professor told me what you had done, I was so proud of you, even though I was still disgusted with myself. I was going to leave straight away, I’d proved to myself I wasn’t any good for you, but then you were gone and I had to find you, I couldn’t go without knowing I had left you safe... when I realised Magneto was actually after you... the one person I couldn’t protect you from...