The Promised
Every time she stepped into that arena she wondered, the city was never the same, the faces in the crowds were never the same, but the images racing through her mind, they were the same.

Marie saw him then, the beautiful man she had loved, the man who had killed himself through her, Alex. His own life was not the first one he had taken that night; there was a woman, Lorna, the beautiful angelic Lorna, mutant name Polaris, the love of Alex’s life, the reason for his despair, and the woman for whom he took his life.

To be with her, to be near her once more, and though Marie believed in precious little, she believed in them, in a love strong enough to transcend the planes, a union that surpassed time and motion, that offered peace and redemption.

It was an emotion she had known precious little of, only the remnants of the love that had existed between Alex and Lorna remained and had embedded itself to her memory, permanently etched there, at times she felt it was beyond cruelty, taunting her with a promise of a sentiment she had never, and could never have experienced.

And she wondered what it was to kill the one thing, the one person that was loved beyond life itself.

Alex’s life was a movie reel that played repeatedly in her mind whenever she felt the need to dredge his soul from the depths that was her haunted mind. He had been a fighter, a hero, a leader of an underground movement, before his capture he had commanded a unit of expert mutants that sought to redress the balance, which sought freedom and justice for their kind.

Lorna had been his first love, he had been hers, and they both had been betrayed, their unit ripped apart, their efforts rendered useless, their punishment was to be separated, scattered to the various brutal camps, destined to never meet again, destined never to touch, to love, or to hold each other again.

But fate, oh fate is the cruellest mistress, it holds us forever enthralled in its far reaching tendrils, and it batters us in its cruel winds, we are useless, we are forlorn against it.

The various mutant camps ran fighting dens, ran competitions where mutants were pitted against each other, later on that would expand to include the worst sorts of human society, the lowest, the criminals, society had at last found a novel way of ridding themselves of those that would not obey the law.

They literally killed two birds with one stone, they would toss them into the cages, the whole turned into a blood thirsty sport, a spectacle for the depraved, the one time it was perfectly legal to watch a mutant rip apart a human.

And occasionally these fighting dens travelled, bets were made against rival camps, and the whole would pack up like a demented travelling circus and arrive at another arena, where money would be exchanged on fights, on life and death.

Tournaments would be set up, and the spectacle would last for days, weeks even, until the strongest remained, until the need for killing, the thirst for blood was quenched.

It was here, in amongst the steel cages, in amongst the dirtied floors that cruel fate intervened, Lorna was drawn to battle against Alex. A fight to the death, there was no other, nothing else to be done.

She had understood perfectly their situation even as the steel doors slammed shut behind them, she had screamed for him to attack, knowing, always knowing that either one of them died this night, or intervention from the humans meant they both did. She had goaded him into attacking, had pushed him through bitter lies, telling him he meant nothing to her.

And in the end as he held his broken love in his arms she whispered what he had always known, she whispered her love to him, and had confirmed it with a tender kiss, a last breath brushing past the tears on his cheek.

Lorna had transcended that night, left all the misery and the ache of this world behind, only to be joined later that night by Alex, through her, through Marie he had found his release, and in those moments, that remnant of peace derived from their love she could forgive him.

That memory had been her saving grace, the bald-headed cripple she had been sent to kill, Professor Xavier, he had probed her mind, and he had seen in this, this death at least she was innocent.

They were the new freedom fighters; they were the heroes, fighting for the mutant kind, fighting for justice.

And they did it all in his legacy, in his name, in his memory they fought on, led by Alex’s brother, Scott and guided by Xavier, they fought, won and lost, died and were reborn.
Join us, he had hammered the single mantra into her head, join us and I promise you freedom, join us and be free, fight with us, stand with us, seek redemption, forgiveness and accept solace.

This is the promised.

---

She wore a Kimono, a pitch black silky material that flowed effortlessly over her curves; it was covered with flowers, the Japanese weeping willow, blood red flowers that accentuated the black background against which they were set.

In her hands she held a beautiful black ornate scabbard, sheathing a deadly blade, a weapon forged by expert hands, deadly metal shaped by ancient Japanese swordsmanship. She stepped into the arena, her hair falling about her in waves, the white bands covering her face, she stood under the spotlight, the crowds cheered, her head remained bowed and her features remained hidden.

She waited for her opponent, waited to prove herself once more, here in this arena, she fought the bitterness that climbed into her heart, beat against the words Xavier had tried to imprint on her troubled mind.

There was no redemption for the likes of her, to fight against the humans was futile, there was no freedom, there was no solace.

There was only death. This is the promised.

---

An unholy silence descended on the arena, her opponent was coming, and the one with whom she would fight to the death. They cheered louder for him, it was only natural, this was his camp, and these, if such a thing could be believed were his fans.

The whole stadium was plunged into darkness, waiting for that perfect moment when he would step into the cage and the lights would finally reveal the two fighters. All she knew of him was the mutant name they had given him, Wolverine, and all he knew of her was the mutant name they had given her, Rogue.

Her eyes, sought through the dark, she barely made out a large, muscled figure step through the steel cage door, heard the heavy scraping of his feet and his breathing, shallow, calm breaths, like her he was a seasoned fighter, a pro.

The deafening hum of the cage being electrified was what signalled the lights to be turned on dramatically, and she saw something of him at last. He had his back turned to her, naked from the chest down she took in the impressive muscles of his back.

He wore only a pair of dirty jeans, his feet were bare, the pants being the only thing that covered him at all. She narrowed her eyes, what sort of mutant had powers that allowed him to step into the arena completely unarmed and exposed like this?

The roars of the crowds threatened to deafen her, but she had learnt long ago to dismiss their noises, their pathetic baying for blood was always the same, the cities changed, the arenas changed, faces changed but the noise, the calls for death were always the same.

He turned to face her at last, and her world collapsed.

There was no forgiveness, no redemption, no faith…only this, fate, cruel fate…the unrelenting mistress of us all.

This was the promised.

Part 2- ‘Heroes and Saviours...’

The sword slipped a little from her fingers; no…no this couldn’t be right, she stared up into his dark eyes, how…why?

Her breath quickened, the ground beneath her feet began to spin and she stumbled a little as she stepped forward, he hadn’t changed in the slightest, still the same hard set jaw, his hair was a little wilder now and he was bigger than she remembered, the muscles apparent and more defined.

But she knew him, she would have known him anywhere, and it was him, the soldier from the forest, the man who had saved her life. The man for whom the crowd was cheering, kill…kill…kill her.

Kill me and let it be over.

Drive this pain further, dredge the memories up, remind me of the child, the innocence lost, and the life that was ripped from me.

And it was you…you, where it all started, where my journey became undefined, where my presence was lost, I died alongside you, and now…will I die here, can you kill me now?

Her fingers struggled to gain a hold on her weapon, the cold metal caught the light, her reflection, and the thin band of her eyes stared back at her, the tears, tears from years of fighting to forget, of bitterness and an unrelenting ache, spilled down her cheeks.

---

For the first time in a long time they hadn’t taken bets on how long, how many rounds it would take for him to put down his opponent, he’d heard the talk, this time there was to be an actual challenge, they put money on whether he’d put down his opponent at all.

He’d been oddly proud of the fact, this Rogue, this mutant that he would fight, perhaps this time it would prove to be something to be relished. He ached for a release, hours spent caged, spent pacing back and forth, pent up rage and fury built into a burning fire, he needed to tear something apart, and the walls and stone floors of his prison could do no more.

He needed it, the animal inside, ached for something to be broken, for something to be killed. The blood pounded in his ears as he had taken that walk to the arena, pounded along with the rhythm of their chants, kill…kill…kill…

It is what you are; it is what you were built for. Here is where you will die, and here is where you will be reborn, under these lights, under this steel cage and caked in her blood.

---

Her blood…Oh God no, I dreamt of this angel, and now this monster, this unrelenting rage inside me has brought me back to this.

He knew her, he would know her anywhere, the curves were defined, beautiful curves, full curves defining the woman, her hair, it was different, full and dark, but with streaks now, pure white streaks that framed her face.

Her eyes, those eyes, chocolate brown eyes that seemed to burrow deep into his soul, serving now to remind him as they had done then, of that hollow vacant space.

That vacant, emptiness where a soul ought to have been, where pity and compassion ought to have been, you awakened me then, you poured back into me what I thought I could well do without…a soul. You breathed into me the remnants of a conscious, at your feet I was reborn and died in that same instant.

Her eyes brimmed with tears, the sword from her hands slipped a little, and her breath came in quick short gasps, matching his. He shook his head, of all the miracles, of all the coincidences to be cursed with, here and now, to be facing the cold metal of your sword, how …why?

He would have laughed had it not been so tragic.

And their shouts, their sounds, their chanting drummed harder and harder into his haunted mind until he thought he would drown in it…kill…kill…kill…

Kill her, the angel of your dreams, the girl who relinquished your soul, your saviour.

His anger grew, at the futility of it all, the sheer uselessness, we fight and we struggle but in the end we are brought to this, the bitterness of a life destroyed, of a hope vanquished, of a punishment unending and it made him scream.

His hoarse furious war cry rang out far into the night, it reverberated around the arena, and it shook the foundations, carrying over the chants of death, and silencing it all, he silenced them all.

His claws sprang out, shooting out in the spaces between his knuckles, the sound, the horrible sound of metal grating, echoed a thousand times over in the now silent arena. He watched as her eyes widened and she stepped back in horror, her fingers tightened over the sword, her grip now sure.

With you it started, and with you I was killed and reborn, and now…can you kill me now?

---

This wasn’t him…it couldn’t have been him, of all the things she had been sure of then, she knew he had been human.

Not this, this creature with metal claws, this thing with an animal like intensity that roared his strength for all to bear witness, that screamed an entire arena into silence. And if this was not him, then she owed him nothing.

She owed him nothing, not her life, not her mercy, nothing, you are not him, I am not obligated, I am not indebted, and I am not…

I am not free.

I will do as I am ordered, I will obey, and I will survive, one more night because I will have killed you, because I will have learned to bury this hope once more, one more night, and one more death.

You are not him, I owe you nothing. Her grip tightened even as she stepped back, even as the echoes of his cry had died down, she held tight to her sword and readied her stance.

And he did the one thing she prayed he would never do, he smiled. That smile, that beautiful smile even as they had shot him and he had fallen to the ground at her feet, it was that smile she could never have forgotten. Could not forget, it was him.

It is you, I am indebted, I am obligated, and Oh God…I am not free...

---

He watched as she fell to her knees, her sword hitting the floor with a thud, and the sounds began again, the miserable chants and jeers, she was not providing them with the entertainment they craved, and they would kill her for it.

He knew, he had seen it happen so many times before, out of fear, out of reluctance to obey, an unwillingness to kill one of their own, he had seen so many mutants dragged out, tossed to the baying crowd or killed where they stood, their hesitance rewarded by death.

All his screaming would not silence them now, she had to stand, she had to fight, and as he knelt down to her it was clear she already understood. Reaching out tentatively he pushed the white bangs of hair out of her face, she suddenly reached up and gripped his hand tightly, her fingers dug into the palm of his hand.

Her eyes met his and the pain of recognition kicked in, she shook her head slowly, fighting the words he whispered to her, knowing, and always knowing that he was right. They must fight…, fight, kill or be killed.

Kill your angels, kill your saviours, and kill yourself.

He pulled her to her feet, gripped her firmly by the top of the arms, and forced her to look at him. He smiled and kissed her lightly on the forehead, a chaste kiss, a kiss made at the altar of a goddess, a saviour worshipped in broken dreams and now brought forth in the most brutal way imaginable.

His gruff tones soothed, and his voice was a reassured handle in the dark, she grasped at it, I am not free, and I am not…

‘Listen to me…’ he shook her once more, ‘ya have to do this, darlin’ ain’t no way o’ gettin’ out of it.’

He nodded, ‘Look at me…LOOK at me.’ She looked up at him at last, ‘It’ll be alright, I swear to you, I promised once I would never hurt you, I’d sooner kill all these fuckers than ever hurt ya, but…’ he gripped her face tightly, ‘ya have to give ‘em what they want, and what they want darlin’ is blood…, but ya can be sure ah’m gonna be damned if it’s yours!’

He pushed her back, unsheathed his claws once more and growled low, ‘Ya have to fight…FIGHT!’

She stepped back, her sword hanging uselessly by her side, she watched wide-eyed as he advanced, the same horror, the same fear constricting her heart, she was that child again, lost and alone in the forest.

Stumbling upon a hero, stumbling on a flawed human being, a man who had killed so many, but could not bring himself to draw his weapon on her. He had spared her then, and he would save her now.

Strange, for all her strength, for all the crimes she had committed since, all the lives she had taken, with him it was gone in an instant. She could offer no predatory look, could offer no fight, before him she was defenceless, hopelessly unguarded and exposed. For all her faithlessness she was saved…

---

They struck and parried for the best part of an hour, the exertion showed on both their faces, the sweat dripped down their bodies, the limbs and grunts tired, the sheer exhaustion weighing down on them both.

She had found her sword arm at last, they exchanged strike for strike, and though this was all for the sakes of their audience she knew they would grow impatient, and call for an end to this fight, one of them would be forced to strike the deadly blow.

Her sword clashed against his claws, the metals became entangled as he locked their weapons together, and he wrenched the blade away from her hands. His force was unmatched and as the weapon went sailing from her hands she followed, catapulted halfway across the cage she landed with a hard thud as the crowd roared into life once more.

She rolled and scurried across the floor, a desperate attempt to grab at her sword, she heard his footsteps thud heavily towards her, the crowd on its feet anxious to get the best view as he dealt the final blow.

It was instinctive, a reflex almost, as her fingers finally gripped the handle of her weapon, she turned, half-rising from the floor, her arm outstretched, the deadly metal held aloft.

She could never have been sure if he’d planned it all along, or if she had caught him by surprise, but as she had turned he had stepped over her, the blade caught him in the chest, pushing through the skin she watched in growing horror as the metal pierced and sunk into his flesh.

He nodded, and as her grip faltered he took her firmly by the arm and pulled her towards himself. It was with a sickening resonance that she felt the handle vibrate as the force of his actions saw the blade pushed all the way through.

Through his chest, through his heart, and he smiled, smiled at her, a hero as he fell to the floor at her feet, the cold metal protruding from his back, covered in his blood. She watched as he rolled onto his side, he reached up to her and she fell to the floor alongside him.

The crowd was silent once more, and now it was his silent last breath, that shook through the foundations, that carried over the chants of blood, that silenced them all, he silenced them all.

Stumbling over a hero, stumbling over redemption, stumbling over the man who could not have seen her sins, the one to sacrifice himself for her, not once, but twice, and her heart, her heart for so long as dark as the bitterest rains falling from an unrepentant sky, her heart, her aching heart screamed.

It was you…I was obligated…I was indebted…I am not free…

Oh God, I am not free…too late, too late I realise…I was yours…

The Promised

Part 3- ‘The Promise Unfulfilled…’

They’d dragged her from the cage kicking and screaming, pulled her back by her arms as she’d kneeled by him watching the blood flow away, watching his eyes drift shut, and watching him die.

It burned, scorched and tore at her more than any damnation she should have ever had to endure, this was hell and she hated everything about it. The blackness that crowded in on her, the heart, her black heart beating so loud it thumped, thumped its way out of her chest.

Her throat closed and she gulped down every breath her collapsing lungs could handle. They threw her back into her cell, many a time she’d managed that walk by her self, from the cage back to her cell she’d walk, head held high, only the slightest tinge of guilt hounding her, having done her job, she’d walk, but not tonight.

Not this night, sitting alone on that stone floor she stared at her hands, small lithe, strong hands that were covered in his blood. She stretched flat out on the floor, oblivious to everything but the dark stone ceiling, her arms stretched out and her hair spilling about her.

She was fallen, too soiled by past mistakes to be an angel and too full of regret to be demonic. Her tears fell relentlessly; unabated and unchecked they rained from her tired, hurt eyes swelling onto the floor, darkened pools from a darkened heart.

It was a full moon out; its nightly white glow fell upon her in shafts, through the tiny hole in the ceiling it bathed her in an unearthly glow, and she was oblivious to it, seeing, hearing nothing but the resounding scream that echoed in her mind.

Lost in images, her mind drifting away to past moments, a soft footstep in a forest, a bullet deliberately missed, and a smile that followed, beyond the nightmares, beyond the walls she had put up around her mind and around her heart, beating at the doors of a sentiment she had long kept hidden…love.

---

It was the first time he had seen her so broken, she barely noticed as he opened the door to her cell. He saw her stretched her out on the floor, and he could never have imagined to see her so lost.

She was staring vacantly up at the ceiling, and the idea that she was so very tortured pained him. From the first, that fateful night he had bought her from the deranged Professor, he had felt something for her. It had been an uneasy sort of friendship at first, he had purchased her under orders from his company, and he was their first point of contact with her.

She had fought him at first, but the vitriol abated, as she gradually allowed him further in, she had much of him in her head, she knew his history, knew of his demons.

And she knew he held the leash in his hands, the control that was the trigger for the inhibitor embedded deep within her skin. Her cooperation was of mutual benefit to them both, he would prove more lax with the remote, turning the inhibitor off for longer periods of time, granting her a freedom of sorts, as long as she obeyed company orders. As long as she cooperated, he was looked upon with favour from his superiors; because of her his promotions had come hard and fast.

More a shooting star than a rising one and he had her to thank for that. And eventually, for him at least, gratitude had turned to love, the love for a sibling, he thought of her as a sister, and as such to see her so very hurt pained him.

He stepped close to her and whispered in her ear, she didn’t respond, he knew of the soldier in the forest, the one man she later told him, the one human who had sacrificed himself for her. She had only spoken of it once, in a drunken haze, but the conversation had been so intense it had stayed with him.

‘He isn’t dead Rogue…Wolverine, he’s alive…’

Her eyes snapped up at that, and she sat up with a sudden jolt, grabbing him tightly by the collars of his shirt she pulled him close, ‘say that again…’ she whispered.
And he explained it to her, explained how he had been listening in to the guards talk, watched as they had extracted the sword from Wolverine’s body and kept it, a souvenir they’d said that would fetch a lot of money.

They’d laughed and spat out something about how the ‘fucker just wouldn’t die, and how it hadn’t been much of a fight at all.’

It soon became clear, Wolverine couldn’t, wouldn’t die.

---

She kept the hood close to her head, held it tight with her fingers, and watched as the guard counted the money, she’d had to pay more than double, on fight nights the price for a night with him was practically extortionate, she pressed her fingers into the side of her neck, the inhibitor was a small nub beneath her skin, barely noticeable to those who didn’t care to look for it. She tapped against it, she knew it was working, and for the first time in her life she was glad for it.

Extortionate the prices may have been but as the fat guard crudely laughed and assured her, Wolverine was more than worth it. Her heart stopped as he got up at last, the keys dangling from the chain on his belt, a belt that barely kept his paunch stomach from spilling out.

He unlocked the cell door, ushered her in and pressed a key into her hand as he did so. He winked at her and she barely kept smiling through the images in her mind that had her ripping his heart out. She took a firm step into the dark cell; she could barely make out a figure huddled on the floor chained by his arms.

He sniffed the air catching the scent of his intruder, he growled low and she shuddered involuntarily, he shook his head and she barely caught the words he spat out at her.

‘Go ask for your money back little girl, the Wolverine ain’t up for turnin’ tricks tonight.’

She stepped closer to him, even as his growling grew louder and more insistent. She kneeled in front of him, just out of reach; with trembling fingers she pushed back the hood of her cloak.

‘Then it’s a good thing ah ain’t lookin’ for tricks…’

He looked up at her last, caught sight of the hair, vivid brown hair with beautiful white streaks, he caught sight of the large brown eyes pooled with spilled tears and he thought his heart would beat right out of his chest.

---

Her hands shook as she turned the key in the clasps binding his wrists and watched as he rose to his feet, she hesitated for the briefest moment as he looked at her, and that smile was there and she half laughed and half cried in a joy she had never known before.

Throwing her arms around his shoulders she buried her face in the nape of his neck, and they stood this way the longest while, the silence, the glorious silence that surrounded them both as the bitterness abated and peace found them at last.

The worlds could turn on their axis, the days could turn into darkened nights, and souls could be lost, all this would go on, all of this went on, but for the both of them, time and their aching hearts stood still.

And it was glorious, his strong arms held tight around her small waist, and though he worried that he held her too tightly, she pressed closer to him and he tightened his grip further still, convinced that now, now he could never let her go.

Impatient hands loosened the strings of her cloak and the heavy dark green material fell to the floor around her feet.

Her breath quickened as his hands began to roam, exploring every inch of her skin, over her arms, up to her shoulders and burying deep in her hair. He stared intently at her, feral eyes darkened with a clear passion, and she shivered in his arms as he brought his face closer.

The gap between them closed to mere inches, she could feel his warm breath moving across her lips before his mouth clasped onto hers. Hungry lips devoured, tongues duelled in a fiery embrace, she stumbled backwards as his intensity took on a life of its own, she moaned into his mouth as his tongue swept across the roof of her mouth. His hand fisted tighter into her hair, and she whimpered as he lifted her clean off her feet.

Her legs wrapped gracefully around his waist, the bulge in his pants pressed against her inner thigh and she gasped as he held her tighter against his erection, he ground into her as he turned her around, they half staggered and half walked towards his cot.

His knees hit the edge of the bed and it was only then that he broke the kiss, they gasped for air, he lowered her gently onto the bed, pushing her back against the mattress, and he brought himself to lie next to her. Bracing himself up one hand, he could do nothing but stare at her for the longest while, wondering, praying, and hoping this was real.

She answered all his questions by running her hand softly up his arm and resting on his shoulder, she reached up and grasping him at the nape pulled him down for another kiss. He plundered her mouth gladly and only broke off when he felt her warm hands travelling down his broad chest.

He pulled her up into a sitting position, settling himself so that he leaned back against the wall he pulled her further and onto his lap, she was positioned directly over his erection once more and even through his jeans it was clear how far his desire ran, and she shivered in anticipation.

She trailed her hands down his face, stopping briefly against his lips whilst he softly kissed her fingers, before gently flowing over his chin and down his neck. They came to rest over his heart, and she placed her hand flat out over the broad muscles, his heart was beating so fast, it surprised her how much of an effect she was having on him, until now she had never known, that such a heart existed, that such a passion could burn, could burn so far and so deep, as his burnt for her.

She had pushed the sword through his heart, she had killed him tonight and now as she looked at the joy that erupted beneath his eyes, she knew that he was living for her, and had long been living for her.

He brought up his hand to rest over hers, his larger hand covered hers completely, and he smiled gently at her, willing her to claim him, to state her ownership over his heart. The tears began to well in her eyes again, knowing how truly undeserving she was of such a sentiment.

She leaned close and kissed him again, pressing her forehead against his, she thanked him, for saving her life, for thinking her worthy. His only response was to deepen the kiss, he began to fumble with the sash of her kimono, the silky material felt utterly sensual, smooth and effortless under his hands but he wanted, he needed to feel skin, to touch, to taste…to feel beneath his calloused and broken hands, the smooth and flawless skin of his very own angel.

His own jeans were done away with and soon she was sat naked on his lap, the tip of his erection pressed against her sex, and he wanted so much, wanted to take his time, to make this last, their first time together ought to have been a long drawn out affair.

But his longing, his need to be buried deep inside her overwhelmed him and unable to contain himself any longer, he arched his back and pushed himself upwards and inside, her loud gasp of surprise stilled him until he met her gaze and was assured, she was as desperate for this as he was.

Her muscles clamped around him, ripples ran along his length as she expertly milked him for all he was worth, his hands grasped her hips, fingers clasped tight as he lifted her slightly and slammed her down again, she threw her head back in pleasure and he took his opportunity to grasp the taut nipple of her breast into his mouth.

He suckled briefly before need overtook him and he began to move faster, it was clear neither of them was going to last very much longer, he could feel her tighten around him; his own nerves were all alive and blazing in one direction, the point at which they were joined.

He arched his back again and pushed into her once more, and again, and again, deeper and harder until he was convinced he was touching the very core of her, it was what they both wanted, and when they came, they came together, in an explosion of ecstasy, pleasure and feeling.

Sated and fulfilled at last, a fine sheen of sweat covering him, he buried his head in the softness of her breasts as her equally damp and spent body came down from the precipice.

She kissed him gently before smiling, ‘Well that was one helluva way to say hello.’

---

He was propped up on one elbow staring down at her, she lay looking up at him gently, naked and beautiful, her hair billowing out across the pillow.

And there were so many questions, so many things to say but words, words could never be adequate, he needed to feel her, and to touch every inch of her, mapping her body with his fingers and eyes, all his dreams, the wild uncontrolled and longing imaginings could not have come close to this.

He laced his fingers through her hair, bringing his face close to her ear, he kissed her cheek softly, ‘Are you real?’ he whispered. Because if not, then I would be content to die in this dream, happily swept away in the current of your illusion.

She reached up and gently stroked his face, ‘Yes, I’m real, but who…who are you?’ she took his hand, remembering the claws that had appeared between his knuckles, remembering the animal she had fought inside the cage. His haunted eyes gave her all the answers she could need; they had done this to him, when he had sacrificed himself for her he had paid the ultimate price.

His life, the life he had known was taken from him, gone was the hunter, broken and killed, brutally brought back to life to become what he had hunted.

She kissed the knuckles gently and brought his hand to rub against her cheek, his hands shook at the tenderness of her touch, ‘Who were you, before this, in that forest, the man that I saw, the one who spared me, who were you?’

He swallowed slowly, would she be disgusted with him, would she revile at his touch if she knew the true horror of what he had been and what he had done? And could he bear the thought of her knowing it all?

She calmed his fears with a gentle kiss, breathing softly she whispered, ‘A name…there doesn’t have to be anything more…just a name.’

It was all she wanted from him, a true name, the first name, the human he had been, that man, a hero in a forest, before the names they had burned in him, before Logan, before Wolverine, before all that, it was the man, the man that she wanted to know.

He smiled quietly, ‘James…’ his voice barely above a whisper, ‘my name was James Howlett.’

She nodded in acknowledgement, sighing deeply she repeated his name, softly gently and as reverently as a long forgotten prayer, ‘James.’

Grinning slyly she extended and offered her hand to him, he took it bemused and she shook it warmly, ‘Hi James, I’m Marie.’ It was a fine introduction, the best sort of introduction and he laughed gently at her humour before leaning in for another kiss.

She gladly obliged, her body arching into his touch as his expert fingers moved down along her shoulders and to her breasts, he kneaded them gently, before his hands moved further still.

His fingers moved over the soft mound, settling briefly between her legs before gently parting her moistened folds and slipping inside her. She murmured softly, and rubbed her face against the stubble of his chin in appreciation. He smiled at her and kissed her cheek, burying his face into the nape of her neck, his fingers began to move.

Slowly, teasingly he brought her to the edge once more; when he felt her body tighten he slipped his fingers out of her, moved across quickly and entered her. He felt her shudder in pleasure and desire, she tightened around him almost immediately, her legs wrapped around the small of his back, clamped tightly about him she used her thighs to squeeze him and nudge him deeper inside.

He moved slower this time, wanting to draw this out, and he moved gently inside her, lowering himself he brought his face within inches of hers, she met his intense gaze. Their eyes never left each other as they reached climax together, neither looked away as their passion, as ecstasy and yearning reached that one point, that pinnacle in a pointed singular blaze.

It was a fire that burned deeper than either knew could ever exist, burned far and deep and with such intensity it would scorch the earth, the heavens and anything else that could have come in between.

---

He awoke with a start, there was movement in the cell, and reaching out for the space beside him he found only warm empty covers where he expected to encounter warm delicious skin. Not for the first time that night he thought it all another one of his dreams, but her scent, warm, musky, sensual flooded every one of his senses and he breathed again.

She had been here, she was here but as he watched her rearranging her kimono he realised with an aching heart that she would not be here for much longer. He clambered out of the bed, reaching out he grasped her firmly about the waist and pulled her back, she leaned into him as he stood clutching her tightly from behind.

Nuzzling her neck, his face buried deep in her hair, he gently murmured, ‘Stay…stay with me. Marie…I can’t lose you a second time…’

She reached up and ran her hands along his arms that clasped firmly around her stomach, and she wished she could do as he asked, but it could never be, she could never have stayed with him. She had seen at last, seen the way he envisioned her, he had murmured the word often enough to her, angel….angel.

And she was nothing of the sort, his love had moved her with all the force of a fierce wind, it had battered and bruised her, brought her to life again, but it could have only been for one night. How could she ever risk him knowing what she was, not an angel as he so lovingly, so blindingly believed, but the devil?

She was of fire and brimstone, she had taken so many lives, she had taken so many, not only in the name of the contract to which she was bound, but as an assassin, as a killer, as Rogue. And with a growing shame she knew she had taken pleasure in each of those kills.

His light, the promise of love he offered her was not enough, never enough and too much. More than she deserved, more than the devil could ever come to expect, nothing of redemption, nothing of forgiveness ought to have been hers, she did not deserve it, she had not earned it.

It was best that she leave him with his illusions, it was fitting that they have only this night to remember.

She turned in his arms and smiled at him, ‘Ah can’t stay…the guards will suspect something, and ma camp is moving on today. But ah’ll see ya again, that’s a promise…James.’ She kissed him, softly, gently, a beautiful lie mumbled from beautiful lips.

She placed her cloak around her and pulled the hood tight; she only turned to look at him once as she stopped by the cell door. Her eyes hardened with tears that refused to spill, and her heart hardened against the doubts that screamed at her as she saw him walk slowly back to his cot and sit down heavily.

It was best this way, it was best that she remained a promise unfulfilled.

---

"Feel The Silence"- The Goo Goo Dolls

You lie awake at night
With blue eyes that never cry
All you remember now
Is what you feel

The truth remains
In midnight conversations
I asked for this moment
But you turned away

Sad like a lonely child
Broken the day you're born
I held the light to you
But I was so vain

And you remain
A promise unfulfilled
I ask you for more
But you push me away

And if we feel the silence
Holding this all inside us
Everything means more now than
Words could explain

And if we feel the silence
Leaving this all behind us
Looking for something more to say

I don't know where I'm going
Only know where I been
And you move through my soul like a hurricane wind
We've been so lost for so long
I don't know how to get back again

And we're drowning in the water
That flows under this bridge
When you're fighting the current
You forget how to live
And I wanted to reach you but I don't know where to begin

And you remain
A promise unfulfilled until today

And if we feel the silence
Holding this all inside us
Everything means more now than
Words could explain
And if we feel the silence
Leaving this all behind us
When it's gone what will you say

How do we hold on
How do we hold on
How do we hold on
How do we hold on
How do we hold on

You lie awake at night
With blue eyes that never cry

---

Alone together- Ray Charles

Alone together, beyond the crowd,
Above the world, we’re not too proud
To cling together, We’re strong
As long as we’re together.

Alone together, the blinding rain
The starless night, were not in vain;
For we’re together, and what is there
To fear together.

Our love is as deep as the sea,
Our love is as great as a love can be,
And we can weather the great unknown,
If we’re alone together.