It was late. Full moon loomed above the mansion when Logan parked the car to the driveway. For a moment they just sat on their seats, staring at the massive front entrance.
“Grab your stuff. We’ll go in round the back.” She took her bag and followed him silently to the darkened garden. This was the way he usually left and returned. Through the cozy kitchen. Never through the cold grand entry hall.
Door was small. It looked almost tiny when he stood in front of it; shoulders wide, chin up.
“Someone’s in there. Probably Scott,” he informed her. She nodded. With Scott she didn’t have any problems. She hadn’t even seen him in weeks. After Jean’s death he had become withdrawn. Much like Logan. He could just disappear for days; even weeks and nobody knew where he went or what he did.
“Hi.” Scott sat there, twirling a spoon in something that smelled suspiciously of Ororo’s herbal tea, dressed to his pajamas.
“Hi. How’s it going?” Logan asked. Scott shrugged his shoulders.
“Apparently not all is well since you’re back… Marie? What were you doing outside at this hour?” She shoved her duffel quickly to Logan who took it.
“I was just… Uh…”
“She came to let me in,” Logan rescued her, steering her out from the kitchen before Scott could continue his interrogation.
“I was away fucking two whole weeks and he never noticed!” She hissed, loud enough for Logan to hear.
“Yeah. Don’t worry about that. He will get better eventually. I’m more worried about how we will get past Professor. He’s a light sleeper,” Logan whispered.
“Have to shook them up a bit. There’s no use yelling at them if they are prepared for it,” he explained when he saw her questioning gaze.
They managed to sneak in to her room without tripping any alarms on their way, not the physical, not Professor’s mental ones. When door closed behind them, she let out a relieved sigh. Safe. There were no monitors, no telekinetic tendrils in dorm rooms.
“Do you mind if I sleep in here?” Logan asked when she started to unpack her bag.
“I don’t mind. But where? My bed is so small…” He lay down on the floor, pulling his knapsack under his head.
“This’ll do.” When she finished unpacking he was already sleeping, curled to his side, eyelids fluttering slightly. She took out a blanket from the closet and draped it over him. His eyes flickered partly open, and he tugged the blanket around him tighter, inhaling deeply.
“Nice… Can I keep this when I leave?”
“Need a blankie?”
“Something like that…” He muttered, eyes closing again.
She changed to her sleeping gown in the bathroom. She usually slept nude now that she had her own room, but that would be out of the question tonight. She was sure that the man in Logan would appreciate her body, but Logan himself would be uncomfortable at least if she traipsed to her bed buck-naked.
“Good night, my knight…” She whispered silently, diving under the covers. Low chuckle rose from the floor.
“Sweet dreams, princess…”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean you to hear that,” she whispered.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just… Let’s just sleep, okay?”
“Good night, Logan.”
“Good night, princess Marie…” warm feeling washed over her upon hearing those words. He wasn’t angry for her little slip up. She let dreams take over.
Crown was heavy on her head. Though blacksmith had received strict instructions to make it from the purest silver, and thin as air, it felt like a thick chunk of lead, nearly crushing her skull under its weight. Luckily reception would soon be over and she could go to her chambers and take it off. She looked to her right. Her father sat there, thick golden band adorning his bald head. He had leaned to whisper something to the one of the guards. They were both laughing to fool’s antics. The fool had covered his eyes with a bright red cloth, and was stumbling back and forth, seemingly trying to get over obstacles on his way to the huge table in the center of the room. He was bumping against people, stumbling over his own feet, and entirely too long cape he had draped over his shoulders.
She stifled a yawn that threatened to escape. Her gaze traveled over the scene in front of her, stopping to the furthest corner near the huge fireplace. To the table reserved for her father’s knights. Only one of them had honored his invitation. Gruff looking, silent man, face covered to shadows. He sat there alone, slightly hunched over, leaning his jaw to his knuckles. She could see his eyes flashing briefly every time he shifted a bit. Dog of War, she had heard other knights calling him in several occasions. Even her father didn’t know his real name. He had wandered to the court over a year ago. He kept to himself, but defended the kingdom when it was necessary. Didn’t ask salary. Just a roof over his head, and food. His clothes were worn, but clean. Armor had dents and scrapes on it. He wielded odd-looking weapon, a sword that looked almost like a rake, with three blades jutting from the handle side by side.
Sudden noise coming from the crowd caught her attention. Something was happening on the dance floor. People were screaming and stumbling away from there in great haste. There was a bright red lump of silk on the floor. Tendrils of black smoke rose from it. The fool. Something was happening to him. He was growing. Wide, black wings spreading out from his back, whole body twisting and turning, shaping again from inside out.
When it was over, great hall was nearly empty. Guards had whisked her father to safety. Guests had fled. She was alone with a dragon. A black dragon with blazing red eyes. It inhaled deeply, and she could see almost blue flames flickering in its huge nostrils. It was going to breathe out soon. She would turn in to a torch. There was no way she could avoid the blast. Suddenly a hand covered with metal mesh grabbed her wrist and flung her out of the way, just before fiery blast scorched the place she had been standing.
“Run!” She was pushed towards the doors that lead to safety. She reached them, and turned to look.
He stood between her and the dragon, three bladed sword drawn, ready to strike. He turned his head slightly.
“Go!” That small movement was enough for dragon to launch a bolt of blue fire. It hit him squarely to his chest and he went down. Dragon stomped over him, and she could hear sickening crunches when his armor gave up. She was screaming. She was alone, and nobody heard her screams. Nobody came. Dragon smirked and leaned closer. Hot breath fanned her hair.
“Factum est. Dies irae. Memento mori.“
Hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her out from the dream. She came back to her senses, struggling and flailing, still screaming. Warm palm clasped over her mouth and she saw Logan’s face hovering above hers.
“Oh, my God…” She gasped, tears streaming to her face and she clung to him desperately. It had been just a dream. Stupid dream, and he was alive and well.
“Hush. We don’t want to wake up the whole mansion,” Logan said, sitting on the bed and pulling her on his lap. She had stopped screaming, but she couldn’t breathe. Was this how people with asthma felt? Throat all clogged up, lungs practically paralyzed? Logan turned her over, pulling her back against his body. His hands found a spot just under her ribcage. Strong fingers poking and prodding, teasing the muscle under them.
“Relax. Breathe. It was just a nightmare.” Just a nightmare. Yet it had felt so real, like she really was there. She had even been able to smell his charred remains, and the scent of something acrid when dragon spoke to her.
“Go back to sleep now. I’m right here. You have nothing to worry about,” Logan whispered when she started to relax and her head started to droop. She clung to his arms.
“I don’t want to sleep alone. Could you…”
He lay down to her bed and folded his massive frame around her carefully, almost as if he were afraid she would break down if he held on too tight. His other hand tucked under her head, other holding her against him from the waist. Face buried to her hair. He was hardly breathing.
“Just hold me…” She whispered. He let out a shaky breath and hauled her tighter against him.
It would be hard to leave after this. But he knew he couldn’t stay. Now she needed him, but how long until she got bored again? Until she decided she had gotten enough? He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. It was a bad idea to memorize it. It would make forgetting her even harder, but he couldn’t help it. She smelt warm. Little afraid, but relieved. What on earth had made her scream like that? At first he had thought there was something really wrong. Then he had seen her, covers nearly strangling her, sweat beading to her forehead, eyes flickering under closed lids. A dream? Must have been a hell of a nightmare. He burrowed deeper under covers and pressed a light kiss to the back of her neck before following her to the slumber.
When she woke up it was still dark. Logan wasn’t in bed anymore. He was sitting on a windowsill; window cracked slightly open, smoking a cigar.
“Good morning,” he greeted her without turning his head.
“Is it morning already?” She asked puzzled, getting up and walking to him.
“Should be. Nearly ten o’clock.”
“Why is it so dark outside?”
“Fuck if I knew. Something’s going on, and I don’t like it.” He was still looking out. She leaned her forehead to the cool glass.
“Ororo?” She asked, noting the thick, dark clouds covering the sky. Logan shook his head.
“No. This is something different. There’s no ozone in the air. No signs of thunder. Just those clouds.” Knock on the door made them both jump a bit.
“Logan? Marie?” Professor’s voice.
“We have a problem. Scott. Something has happened to him.”
“No shit, Sherlock. His wife died over a year ago, and since then he has been stewing in his own shit, mulling it over again and again. I’d say something really has happened to him. He finally snapped,” Logan snorted, taking a seat from the window again after he let the professor in.
“Scott is doing that?” Marie asked, pointing outside.
“Not only that. Everybody except us is missing. I haven’t been able to locate anybody. I’m not sure if he’s alone. I can sense a strong presence wrapped around his mind. Like something was using him. Acting through his mind.”
“Okay. Where is he?” Logan asked, putting out his cigar.
“I told you he’s gone missing. He’s somewhere in here, either in this very house, or out in gardens. I can’t locate him,” Professor explained.
“You’ll stay here. I’ll go with the Professor. We have to find Scott and stop what ever it is he’s planning to do,” Logan said, pulling on his jacket.
“And take this off. Just in case,” he said, tapping at the ring in her finger. She pulled it off little hesitantly.
“Be careful.”
“You know me,” Logan smirked. Then he was gone. Gone with the professor, and she was alone.
“I know you. That’s why I worry…”
They had swept the mansion from the roof to the basement. It hadn’t taken from them half an hour. With his senses, and professor’s telepathy it was easy to discover even the smallest nooks and crannies, every possible hideout in the enormous building. And there had been no sign of him. Just a constant feel of dread, which made both men edgy and agitated. Surprisingly the professor even more so than Logan.
“He’s somewhere outside. Must be. We checked everything.”
“If I could only get past his shields… This is so goddamned frustrating! Like I was fighting another telepath!”
“Calm down, Chuck, before you have a stroke…” Suddenly Professor grabbed his arm.
“Jean! She’s the only one strong enough to do something like this!”
“Have you gone nuts? She’s dead, remember?” Logan asked. Xavier shot him an angry glance and started pushing his chair towards the grand entry hall.
“I wouldn’t bet on it. Scott complained about hearing voices few months ago. I thought nothing of it. He hasn’t been sleeping, and sleep deprivation can cause hallucinations. What if it was some part of Jean? What if she somehow survived?”
“And decided to drive crazy the man she loved?” Logan asked, wrinkling his brows in confusion.
“If it’s Jean we’re dealing with, she has no malicious intentions. She’s probably just trying to return home to Scott,” Professor said, stopping in front of thick oak wood doors that lead to the front yard. Like in slow motion picture Logan could see him reaching the doorknob. Saw brief flicker of flame from under the door. Then everything exploded. Something crashed through the doors, something needy and frustrated, shrugging away debris, pushing unconscious professor out of its way. It grabbed Logan and flung him against the wall, knocking him unconscious. Whiff of sulphur and hot electricity revealed attackers identity to him before he fell. Scott.
“… Smell’s wrong. All wrong…” He woke up to the sound of his own voice. His head was still spinning from the jarring collision with the wall, but he managed to stumble up. Scott. Fucking Scott had thrown him like a rag doll! His eyes zeroed to scorched footprints on the floor, while his other senses confirmed professor was all right, just a little shaken and still unconscious. He crouched. Prints were still warm under his touch. He followed them with his gaze. Over the hall, past entries to the kitchen and classrooms. Up the stairs…
“Oh, fuck!” Marie. And she was alone.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000