Kneeling gently on the ground before him, Logan's eyes ran over the smooth marble headstone before him. He'd raised a hand to touch it, felt the smoothness of it underneath his fingertips, followed by the stinging pain in his heart. It wasn't made of stone, not like everyone expected it to be. But he let them go on believing it because he didn't care what they thought of him. At least, that's what he let himself believe...that he didn't care about them and their opinions and...

It was all one big lie. He knew it now, but it'd taken a tragedy to show him. Now he was without her and left alone to bask in the realizations her death had revealed to him. The guilt was the most painful to deal with. There were nights when he stared at the ceiling and he swore that he was reliving the entire night. Everything in him reached out, pleaded for just one chance to live that part of his life over again. He'd give up a thousand of his pasts to do so...

"Marie." His index finger moved into the indents in the stone, feeling the roughness and smoothness combined. He hadn't known what to put for her epitaph, so he let the others pick it out. It didn't suit her in the least...but then, no one but himself truly knew Marie. She was still very much a child to all of them, having met her at age seventeen and knowing her only for six short years, it was hard to remember her any way other than when she was young and innocent. And healthy.

Realizing mud was soaking into the knees of his jeans, he stood to his feet, placing the bouquet of flowers he'd brought along. Hadn't picked them out himself, as he didn't know much about flowers to know which Marie might like. He left it up to the woman at the counter who, obviously picking up from his expressions that he wasn't in the mood to care about much of anything, had graciously done as told without questions. Even let him have them for free. Normally he didn't accept charity, but he liked to think that maybe the woman knew Marie, and that she was giving him the flowers in honor of her. Of course, it probably wasn't true. Having to live in Xavier's Mansion meant seclusion, for the most part. Not many people outside of the place would know her by name, let alone know her well enough that they'd be upset by her passing away. But he let himself believe that everyone loved her because he had, still did, and she meant so much to him that he couldn't believe she'd gone without anyone noticing. It was bad enough that only the people from the school came to the funeral. Logan just didn't understand how such a remarkable person could leave this world and yet no one took time out of their lives to notice. The least it could have done was rain.

When he woke up the day of the funeral and saw sun, he was ready to gut the world with his bare hands. He was suffering. Everyone else within a good radius should have to suffer as well. The world just didn't realize what it had lost out on. There wouldn't be another Marie in its existence, yet it went on as though nothing unusual had happened. And it made him hate more than he ever had in his past. It was different because for once he couldn't direct it at one thing. He had to live with this feeling building inside him without any kind of release. It chewed away at him, made him hate himself more than he ever had before.

Because it was his fault. The others tried to tell him otherwise, but in his eyes they could see the same feeling that generated through him all day, every day. He never liked being pitied. For once in his life though, he was so empty, and so tired, that taking the time and energy to fight them and their looks of sympathy just wasn't worth it anymore.

Sitting on the bench he'd had made for Marie, he ran his hands along the seat of it. He knew it must seem strange, to have a bench put in the cemetery in Marie's name. But she would have liked it, had she been able to see it. Hell, for all he knew, she saw it and smiled, shaking her head in awe like she used to do.

The thought made him wince. He didn't like to think so much. Thinking ended up bringing forth thoughts of Marie...things she'd said or done in the past that were still all too vivid in his mind. It wasn't fair that she'd been taken away, while others had the chance to live out their days with the person they loved. It wasn't fair that he was condemned to a healing factor that would force him to live longer than most of the people he considered family. That for another hundred years at least, he would have to walk around the earth remembering them as they were so long ago, unable to join them because his healing wouldn't allow it.

All these forces against him. Nature as a whole seemed to have chosen him to be its one target. It took pleasure in seeing him suffer, because it knew he could do nothing to stop it. He couldn't end his life as others could when it got too difficult to breathe. When the world closed in on him and bore down upon his shoulders with a tension he couldn't handle, he stumbled to his knees and prayed for death but only found more pain.

The worst part of all was that he brought it on himself. He'd been selfish and unthinking and before he knew what was happening everything he ever loved was gone. She died by his hand...

Sinking his fingers into his hair he held his head, looking down at the earth as the rain fell through his locks, down to the tip of his nose where it remained for some time before falling. After a while it became hard for him to distinguish between the tears and the raindrops. He clenched his eyes shut at some point and brought back the memories that lead up to this day. Thought back to a time where things didn't seem to be quite so empty...when life had a purpose and he had someone to share it with. A life where he was a completely different person...

---

Approximately a year to a year and a half before

"Gotcha!" Wrapping both arms around the thin waist before him, Logan lifted her off the ground and spun her around a minute. She screeched in surprise and kicked her feet as though she wanted to be put down, though they both knew she didn't mind being in his arms. After a moment of that, he carefully placed her back down, allowing both feet to gently hit the floor before releasing his grasp entirely.

"You...are evil." His eyes scanned her face as every muscle in it attempted to fix itself into some semblance of a frown. For a second, he almost believed it was a genuine scowl, until the corner of her lip twitched, which brought a sort of sparkle to her eye. From that moment on, she was done for. He watched her bottom lip disappear under her teeth as she fought back a smile, but it was no use. Once it started on her face, it spread until the entire area was infected. Logan always thought of her smile as a sort of plague. Not many people could take a look at it, or be around it without catching themselves smiling as well.

Even Logan and his healing factor couldn't take on the Southern Belle Smile Power. He'd dubbed it that one afternoon, when they were curled up on a window sill watching droplets of rain race each other down the window. They placed bets using M&M's and mini Snickers bars. He remembered a time when that sort of thing would seem utterly ridiculous to him. When even the mention of it would have brought a sneer to his face and a raised eyebrow. That day, though, you couldn't have torn him away, even if you told him that everyone involved with lacing his skeleton with adamantium was waiting in his room.

Marie had a way of doing that. Yeah, Jean could arouse a guy pretty quick, but she didn't have the power to make the simplest things in life suddenly seem so damn important that you had to drop everything you were doing to be sure you didn't miss it. Jean was about the big things. Looks. Long legs that went on forever and sexy green eyes...Basically, Jean had the lust department covered. She could get a man's adrenaline pumping...

But Marie? She took care of the little things. Somehow, she managed to reach down to the soul, and piece it back together. God knows she'd had a right piece of work with his shattered mess. But day by day, she collected the bits and mended them until once again he had some sort of sense of who he was, and why he was here on this earth.

"God, Logan, you think too much. 'Sides, didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to think when someone's talkin' to you?"

"Oh yeah? That another one of "Mama's rules for life?" She giggled, and he offered his trademark smirk, hoping he'd get off the hook for not paying any attention. "Besides, I heard every word you said."

"That so?" When he nodded matter of factly, she put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. "If you were payin' attention, then why did your eyebrows bend inward like they do when you're concentratin' on somethin'? Aaand, why did your eyes suddenly glaze over in that nostalgic way they do?"

"Damn." He couldn't really argue with that. He'd just have to sit in front of a mirror until he was able to concentrate without his eyes clouding over. That way, she'd never be able to catch him when he zoned out, as he tended to do sometimes. "Caught me red-handed."

"An' don't think actin' all cute's gonna get you out of trouble this time, mister. Cuz I am sick an' tired of you not payin' any attention to me." He felt the grin pass over his lips before he had a chance to reign it in. Well, it didn't much matter. The others were out for the day, leaving just the two of them to do whatever they pleased.

"Sick...AND tired? Both, y'mean? At the same time? Not just sick, not just tired, but both?" All the while he was talking, he slowly stepped toward her, only to have her start to move away. Her stern face had disappeared, replaced by a crossed look, between confusion and apprehension.

"You stay away from me..."

"Uh uh. If you're sick an' tired, I wanna take care of you..." He watched as a flicker of a smile appeared and disappeared on her face. She was backing up at a quicker pace now, he realized, and would make a dash for the doorway pretty soon. He was ready for it, all instincts kicking in at the thought of a hunt.

"Don't you dare..."

"Oh, I'm darin'. What're you gonna do about it, darlin'?" An evil grin paced over his lips, one that reflected the playfulness that Logan didn't like to show when around the others. When it was just Marie and himself, though, it was different. He could be that way because he knew Marie liked to have that side of him to herself. That guarenteed her silence on his attitude behind closed doors.

"Well...I suppose you'll have t'find out when you catch me. If you can catch me, that is..." A light growl that began in his throat and continued to a level where Marie could hear it confirmed that he had accepted the challenge. She flashed him that sweet, sexy, sinster smile of hers and was off in a flash. He followed close behind, leaving her a little time to get a head start. He needed the practice tracking, and such a target would be a nice reward when he at last found her.

Weaving in and out of the rooms, he took in short breaths through his nose, squinting his eyes and trying to separate the scent of her from previous times in there to the most recent times Marie had visited the room. The first three proved she had completely avoided the rest of the upstairs and had headed, instead, to the wider lower levels, which were adorned with many separate rooms that would take Logan a good deal of time to search. Especially if she had entered and left every one of them to throw him off; a tactic he'd taught her on one rainy day or another.

It took some time and patience, but at last he caught the room where her scent was the strongest. The kitchen. Leaning forward, onto his toes, he glanced into the room, and saw her next to the counter, digging around in the refrigerator. Letting a feral smile take over him, he stealthily slipped into the kitchen, proud of the silence that surrounded him as he made his way over to her.

For a second, he just lingered behind next to her, taking in the curves of her body and the way she was humming as she looked through the variety of food, their game obviously forgotten. Marie got distracted like that a lot of the time, finding more important things to do in the midst of doing another deed she had claimed important not more than five minutes earlier. It was part of what made him love her so.

Deciding to act before she could pull away from the fridge, he flexed his fingers slightly, stretched his arms forward a moment, then went on the attack. In one brief second he had his arms around her waist, pulling her down to the ground, pinning her arms over her head. "H-Jeannie? Ah, shit!" Jerking away as quickly as possible, he looked around, trying to locate Marie, and wondering when the others had come home. She had to be in the room somewhere, or else her scent wouldn't have been so strong. In the end, he found her leaning up against the fridge, amused grin overtaking her countenance. Rolling back onto his heel he stood up, and grudgingly offered a hand to help Jean to her feet. She too had a rather amused look on her face, though he tried to pretend he didn't see it.

"Nice one, slick." His eyes followed her form as it dashed out the nearest door, and he struggled over what exactly to do. Jean still stood, arms folded over her chest, giving him a look he didn't want to see. She was giving him the sort of look one would give a puppy who'd just rolled around in his or her rose bush. Stern, but highly enlivened. It made him livid, and uncomfortable, because deep down he really didn't care what they thought of him. And he wanted to. He wanted to have some exterior of the man whom they met in the Canadian forest. The one who would rip someone's limbs off for looking at him the wrong way. But it wasn't possible. They both knew it. "Oh, loverboy!"

Growling some at the teasing tone he heard echoing down the hallway, Logan pulled his hands into fists and momentarily looked back to Jean. He had to do something to maintain at least a little dignity, though, under the circumstances, that was very doubtful. He might as well waste his breath assuring himself that she wouldn't tell a soul about this, though he knew it would be around the school faster than a cold during winter. "Look Jeannie..."

She held a hand up to stop him. "My lips are sealed." Giving a curt nod of his head in reply, he turned on his heel and walked stiffly to the doorway of the living room. The moment he was out of Jean's vision, he started off at a full sprint, mentally promising Marie she would pay for this.

---

"Banana."

"No way. It's some kind of an animal. Maybe...a rabbit." They both squinted at the clouds a second, letting them roll by as they concentrated on one, which they would decipher shortly.

"Nope. Banana." Marie let out an exasperated sigh and turned onto her side to look at him. He didn't turn to face her, just kept his eyes on the sky, focusing on the white puff they had both decided upon using as their observation point. He could see, from the corner of his eye, that she was resting her head in her hand, holding herself up by leaning on her elbow.

"You can't tell me that's a banana. Look." Somehow, Logan managed to resist the tug on his lips and keep a straight face, as Marie lifted her hand toward the sky, pointing a finger at it. "Those two things there, those're ears."

"Nope. It's the banana peel."

"Banana peel? Logan are you crazy? They're clearly ears. See? Even fuzzy. Banana peels aren't fuzzy."

"Well, boats aren't fuzzy either, and you said that one there," he scanned the sky a moment, before gesturing slightly to one of the clouds to their left. "Was a boat. So, it's a banana." While Marie let out a small groan, he turned his head to the side to muffle the chuckle that was coming through. He knew very well how much his stubborn attitude annoyed her. But he also knew that she looked damn fine when she was frustrated with him. Which was all the incentive he needed to act so childish.

"Banana my butt." The ruffle of grass told him that she'd settled completely back down and was somewhat relaxed again. He knew when to, and not to, press his luck with her. Most of the time she wasn't really as aggrivated with him as she seemed. Those were the times when he got away with many things that not many other people would stand for. But he knew his limits, and when she was angry, he watched himself carefully. No reason to add to the trouble and get on her bad side.

Despite his bad assed attitude, Logan found himself recently thinking about his relationship with Rogue. Normally, it was the woman's job to establish just where they were in comparison to each other, but neither of them had really ever talked about it, and he felt it was time to do so. Only, he wasn't quite sure how one brought up the topic. Sure, he'd been made to watch chick flick after chick flick, but that wasn't real. Plus, all the men in those movies were replica Prissyboys.

Shuddering at the thought of more than one Scooter, he rolled over enough so that he was leaning on one elbow and looking down at Marie. She didn't react any particular way, and he was glad for it. Before she could control her powers, she often winced and moved away from him, and despite knowing the cause of it, it still hurt to see her do it.

Carefully, he rested his hand against her cheek and rubbed his thumb along her jaw bone. The skin was softer than he'd imagined, even though he'd felt it countless times before. There was something new in each and every touch that made him feel...strange somehow. Like he wasn't himself any longer, but in a good way.

It confused him, being with her. The moment he found out she could touch, he'd been there for her. She was still rather nervous about skin contact, so he made an effort to touch her whenever he had the chance. Nothing major, like kisses. Just brushes of the arm, a finger across her cheek, simple touches that didn't leave her afraid of him and of touching him. It was a simple way of earning her trust and confidence in him.

Suddenly, his current situation struck him pretty hard in the gut. He was leaning above Marie, staring down into her deep green eyes, and realizing she wasn't staring back with a glint of fear in her eyes as usual. It was never much, but it was enough to keep him from moving further. Now, without that physical barrier there, he was having trouble stopping himself. The only thing keeping him from kissing Marie was himself.

With that in mind, he moved forward slowly, keeping most of his weight on his elbow. When Marie made no attempt to get away, he found it safe, and quickly brushed his lips against hers before he himself could back down. A few moments later, the kiss was a few levels deeper than he'd intended, and slowly he could feel Marie's arms snaking around his neck.

After a few moments of revelling in the kiss, he let a half grin pass over his lips. "Banana."

---

The change hadn't been apparent at first, not even to himself. Or perhaps it had and he'd just decided that, for the time being, it was safe to ignore it. Now, though, he had to address the situation before things changed anymore. Marie had been walking around the Mansion for a good two weeks looking about as close to an extra in the film "Night Of The Living Dead" as one could get before actually needing to be six feet under. Of course, Logan and most of the other men in the place were smart enough not to say anything to her face about that. Most either assumed it was "that time" or that it was just a short term phase she was going through. Logan included...at first.

But then he noticed the little details. The bags under her eyes...the heavy clothing despite the warm climate, the constant need to sleep. He was pretty sure she had overworked herself again, and that with a little time off she would be back to new. That decided, the hard part was left to come; getting her to take a little time off.

"Look, Baby...two hours. That's all I'm askin'. Gimme two hours to get you back on your feet. Two hours away from all the work that you think only you are responsible for." Enveloping her into his arms, and grinning a little at the way she fit so nicely there, he put on his best puppy face...the only that only existed when it was himself and Marie alone. "Give Wonder Woman her job back." He knew he had her the moment he caught the slight tug around her lips. She pulled the lower one between her teeth in an attempt to stop it, but it was clearly no use. The next minute, she was tugging on his shirt some, smile now existant all the way up to and into her eyes.

"I thought you liked it when I played Wonder Woman?" Emitting a low growl, Logan put a hand against the small of her back and pulled her closer into him, taking a moment out of his "plan time" to plant a kiss firmly on her lips, lifting a hand to rub the back of her neck and receive the relieved moan he generally coaxed from Marie whenever he did so.

After a few moments of stealing much needed kisses, he pulled away slightly, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder.

Stroking her back, he chuckled slightly and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "One, that was a really cheesy seduction line. Two, you're still coming out with me tonight." Grinning slyly at the muffled moan, he felt her pull her face away from his chest to look up at him with her pouting Bambi eyes.

"Do I have to?" She hated bars, he knew it. Hated the smell of stale beer, and the way people staggered about, grunting and making lewd comments while grabbing at various body parts on the nearest women.

"This place is different. Just built, actually. Kinda girlie, what with the karaoke sh-" Seeing Ororo walk into the kitchen area where they were, he quickly pulled his words back, put them in a bowl, added milk and ate them. "Stuff." A raised eyebrow from both women resulted only in a brief shrug of his shoulders. He was trying, dammit, give him a break!

"Look, just give it...twenty minutes. If you absolutely hate it, we can find another place."

"Like...Salvatore's?" Wincing slightly, Logan pulled some at the collar of his shirt, already imaging the uncomfortable suit and tie that was a necessity at that place. Still...if it got her out of the house for a while, and took her mind off whatever was stressing her out, he'd just have to muddle through.

"Deal." As the coy, yet evil smile passed over her lips, Logan knew that he was in for a lot of trouble that night. No doubt she would just claim to absolutely abhor the place, just to get him to look like a complete fool at a fancy restaurant. Fancy was one word he knew nothing about. To him, "formal" dresswear was whatever had been washed the previous day. Jeans, white t-shirt, old shoes...that was the ideal outfit.

"I'll get my coat." While Marie left the room to do so, Logan glanced over at Ororo, who was currently pretending to be very interested in the lack of contents of the fridge. Despite her best efforts to hide it, she was on the verge of laughter. Folding his arms across his chest in a last ditch effort to look intimidating, Logan sent her the evil eye, in hopes of getting her to stop before the laughter escaped.

"What is so funny, 'Ro?" Keeping his jaw clenched and accenting each word with a cross between a grunt and a growl, he was pretty convinced until Ororo Monroe, usually shy and in control, burst into laughter. Defeated, he stood, shoulders sagging slightly, feeling his ego slowly deflat whilst he stood there, taking in the mock laughing. "I'm screwed..."

"No...you're whipped." Turning, the Weather Witch left him to stew over his lost pride, though he could hear for a good time after that, her rich laugh echoing through Xavier's halls.

---

Logan walked into the bar after Marie, keeping a hand on her back to warn the hovering men to back off. He wasn't sure if it was the smoke and the heavy blanket of stale liquor that filled the place, but for some reason, he had the feeling that from this point on, things were going to be different. A change, not for the better, was going to occur, and despite his attempts to rid himself of the feeling, it followed him over to the table Marie had chosen, and sat down beside him. He felt like a character in one of those cheesy gangster films of old, where someone was always being tailed, and they could feel it, but they couldn't see anyone.

Which is what caused him to look over his shoulder every so often. The feeling of dread was growing to a point where it was almost tangible, and he was sure that if he could just get his hands on it, he could put an end to it and continue with the night. He had to focus, after all, on Marie, to make sure she had fun, no matter what the cost. "Be right back." For some reason, he was antsy.

Leaving Marie to raise an eyebrow at him and situate herself at the table, he made his way over to the bar to get them two drinks. On the way, his eyes caught sight of the stage set up for the karaoke. It took only a minute for his mind to flash back to the day in the kitchen, where Marie had made a pretty big fool of him. His trademark, sly smile slowly slid over his lips as he approached the sign-up desk, remembering at the same time the sound of Marie's oh-so-off-key voice that echoed from the shower every morning. He loved the woman to death, but even love couldn't make a voice like hers agreeable...especially not at six in the morning, her ideal rising time. "I wanna sign up."

"I'm sorry sir, all spots are filled for tonight." Cracking his neck and shooting him the intimidating glare that had failed to work an hour ago on Ororo, Logan's pride swelled the moment the man snatched up a pen and offered it to him, hand shaking. "I-It appears..." Swallowing hard, the man attempted speech again, nervous eyes darting everywhere, yet never landing on his agressors face. "It appears we...have one opening left..."

"When?" Logan, always one to enjoy teasing, made sure to keep his voice low, and a short jump up from the traditional growl he used on strangers.

"Wh-whenever you like, s-sir..." Plucking the pen from the man's fingers, Logan bent over the clipboard to sign Marie up, managing to do so without taking his eyes off his prey.

"See to it," he began, standing up to his full, intimidating height, and pulling the sleeves of his leather jacket down some, "that she's next." The minute the guy's head began to bob in agreement until Logan was sure it was going to fall off and begin to roll about the floor, Logan nodded his approval and moved over to get the drinks. Marie was a clever girl, and his long absence would get her curious as well as suspicious. That was one thing he taught her. Always mistrust people...your friends especially.

Slipping into the seat across from Marie, he curled a lip up slightly as he handed Marie her drink. It was some bright blue, mixed drink, one she got no matter where they went. "Don't see what's so damn good about that stuff." Settling down, he took hold of his beer and, after being tempted to do so, quickly finished the bottle off.

"So...long line for drinks?" Looking her over, seeing her brow bent, and the slight raise of one eyebrow, Logan mentally nodded his approval. She didn't trust him. Well good. Because in about thirty seconds, he was going to get his well awaited payback.

"Actually, I was checkin' out the karaoke business. Seems, to liven things up, they randomly call people from inside the place." Her biggest mistake was believing him. And he knew she did, because of the way she sank back into her chair in relief, as though she had just gotten out of something.

"Well...that's...innovative." Rolling his eyes at the way she was properly sipping at her drink, pinky finger out and all, he started in on his second bottle of beer, going a little easier on it this time.

"Next up..." Logan turned his attention to the stage and saw the same short, bald little man he'd spoken to earlier climbing onto the stage. The minute their eyes met, Logan gave a brief nod of the head and offered him a little smile. When he saw that Logan was pleased, he broke out into a relieved smile and nodded some in return, fixing his glasses slightly before looking back at the clipboard. "Is there a...Marie here tonight?"

Eyes fixed upon her, Logan watched as her back stiffened. It wasn't too long after that she turned to face him, a look of surprise, and not anger as he'd expected, crossing her features. "Of all tha names t'pick..." Her lower lip began to stick out in a pout as she was accustomed to do when having to do something she didn't want to do, as she stood to her feet and pushed her chair in. After about three steps, she'd reached the stage area, where a man took hold of her hand to help her up onto it. Suddenly, her head jerked around, and he felt her eyes burning into his. "Wait a minute...how did they get my name!" Waving the four fingers tightly wrapped around his beer bottle, he shrugged a little at her, mouthing the words "Ain't payback grand?" and revelling in the way her entire face flushed when she finally caught on.

What made it so enjoyable was the fact that Logan knew Marie inside and out, and no matter what type of bad situation she might be in, she would never back down. She'd give him hell about it later, but she'd go through with it and give him his due. Which is exactly what she did. Wrapping her slender fingers around the mic, Logan chuckled slightly as the familiar tune of "I Will Survive" came on over the karaoke machine. A moment later, the rough, yet soothing voice belonging to his Southern Belle began to fill the entire bar. Not one for being modest, Marie really got into the song, being sure to entertain the people in the building to her best ability. Her gaze though, never left his. Likewise, he kept his eyes on her, even when tipping his head back slightly to empty the contents of the ice cold glass bottle in his hand. He'd never known a woman quite like Marie in all his life. God, he loved her.

---

"I don't believe I actually did that." It was late by the time they'd arrived home, and despite the absolute trust founded in them by the Professor, Logan still felt slightly like a teenage boy, sneaking into the house with his girlfriend for a little late-night action after a good date. He'd never felt that way before when bringing women back to his place. Usually, he was trodden by a need to get emotions off his chest, and he might as well pretend the emotion was lust, so he didn't have to face reality. With Marie though, everything changed. He'd come to not only expect it, but accept it as well.

Escourting her up the walkway, he walked as she tugged his jacket closer around her shoulders to keep warm. New York nights had been exceptionally warm, though Marie still claimed to be chilled. It worried him, but he didn't show it, because Marie would catch it on his face and go into a lecture about how there was nothing to worry about. And he knew that. At least, he was pretty sure he did, until they opened the front door.

He wasn't sure which woman's features upset him the most.

Jean was standing just inside the School, arms wrapped around herself, her cheeks a pale coloring he'd never seen on her before. Frowning deeply, he clasped Marie's elbow, partly to help her inside, partly to make sure she didn't plan on running away. "Waiting up for us, Jeannie? I promised I'd take good care of her." He offered a weak smile, and received one in return. This wasn't a game. And suddenly, Logan knew that all the worrying he'd done in the past had been with good reason. That the dread he'd felt walking into the bar hadn't disappeared, it'd just been momentarily forgotten.

Now it returned, head strong, almost becoming a part of him. His eyes darted from Marie to Jean, and back again, looking for answers that would be given away in their expression. Both, though, were stone cold...yet awareness and understanding gripped them both, while he was left in the dark.

"Marie...your blood tests came back while you were gone."

Feeling her hand on his arm was the only thing that kept him in place. He wanted to grab hold of Jean, shake whatever knowledge she had that Marie was keeping from him out of her. But he stayed where he was, cold, listening to anything and everything his ears could pick up on. "We need to talk." And that was when he knew that his world had been pulled out from under him.

---

"A blood test? Why didn't you tell me..."

"It didn't seem that serious at the time, Logan. I was really tired and I thought maybe it was something like a cold, maybe the flu...I didn't know it'd turn out to be so serious!" When she sank into the chair, rubbing her temples in frustration, he stopped pacing and watched her worriedly. The air in the infirmary was cold, for sterilization purposes, probably, causing Marie to shiver slightly.

Sighing, he sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against him in hopes of comforting her. She didn't stop shivering, but managed after a moment to offer a small semblance of a smile.

"I'm sorry I made you so angry..."

"No..." Running a hand through the silk strands of hair, he kissed the top of her head, trying to think things through. "I'm not angry at you, Marie. I'm angry at myself. I'm upset that I didn't catch on to the seriousness of this sooner."

"Hey...it's not doin' us any good tryin' t'take the blame. It's not your fault I got sick...that's just the way the cards got dealt this round. Maybe the next hand will be better." Raising an eyebrow at her, he rubbed his hand along the length of her arm, hoping to warm her up a little, as well as to calm his nerves. In all the years he'd been at Xavier's...all six, nothing so serious had come up.

Sickness was one thing he wasn't good at dealing with. It wasn't tangible...it didn't create a solid character that he could take into his hands and strangle the life out of. It was an unseen threat that could destroy him and those he loved. The worst of it was it didn't have a purpose. It wasn't acting on vengance, or malice, it just acted. There was no reason for it to take a life, other than that was the way it worked.

Clenching his free hand into a fist, Logan momentarily felt the need to release his claws. Allow them a moment to lash out at the unseen enemy in an attempt to take control in a situation where he had no power. The helplessness made it the worst. He couldn't help Marie fight whatever it was going on inside her, not physically anyway. She had to do that on her own. He could be with her, hold her hand, encourage her when she needed it, but in the end, the only one who could make her live was herself.

Which was what worried him more. Another tactic illness used was to kick its prey down so many times that eventually, the person didn't even try to stand again. It was the most merciless predator that ever stalked mankind...right up there with greed and desire.

"C'mon, Logan...let's try t'think positively..." He did try, for a moment. But then his mind flashed back to the moment they opened the door. To the way Jean looked, staring first at him, then letting her gaze fall on Rogue. He'd seen the glint of pity in her eyes. Caught they way the woman suddenly became overcome with the need to turn and run from the spot where she was standing. Her eyes were wide, filled with too many emotions blended together to catch any one particular separately. She held the look of a deer caught in headlights, whether she realized it or not.

Feeling the light squeezing on his hand, he looked down to find it laced with Marie's. Her long, thin fingers wrapped around his in a hold he wasn't about to release. The gesture brought back some hope into this otherwise hopeless situation. She was strong, physically and otherwise. Maybe she'd have what it took to get over whatever it was plaguing her. She'd survived other tragedies in their time together, as well as the overall challenge of being without human touch. It'd taken months of mental exercises to get her emotionally and mentally ready for the challenge of keeping a hold on her powers.

Maybe he was wrong to sell her short. She'd held out this long, after all, with little trace of the effects of past situations that would have scarred her if she were weak. "Look, Marie..." Raising their entwined hands, he turned his until hers was on top, then placed a gentle kiss on it. "Whatever this is...we're in it together, right?"

Watching the tears well into her eyes, he brought her a little closer against him, feeling the brief nod of her head against his chest after a moment. He hadn't seen her cry in all the years they'd been together, the moment aboard the train not withstanding. It didn't make her weak in his eyes, as she thought it did. Just the opposite, it made him realize that despite the outward appearance and attitude, that she was human and that, like himself, even she needed and deserved to be cared for. That though she may be strong, she still needed a shoulder to cry on like the rest of them.

---

The light click of heels on the tile floor brought their attention back to the present situation. Logan lifted his eyes to see the young doctor, drapped in her laboratory coat. She looked almost as tired as Marie did. Her long, red locks were moving about wildly as she walked swiftly over to them. He could smell the apprehension on her, and for a moment he felt bad about it. But she'd chosen to be a doctor and one of the key necessities for it was being able to deliver bad news with the good.

Making sure he held tightly to Marie to keep her from falling, he stood up to meet Jean's eye. Keeping both arm's around Marie's waist to hold her up, as her knees suddenly buckled under the strain she was obviously under, he continued to stare bravely at the doctor, who currently looked down and aimlessly shifted through her notes. "Let me start with a question. Marie...have you made contact with anyone outside of the school recently? Enough so that you absorbed them into you?"

Logan grunted and moved to answer for Marie, when he felt her nod slightly in response. Shocked, he looked down at her, wondering why she hadn't mentioned it to him. "Marie?"

"I, uh...didn't really think it was a big deal. I was walking around the mall, and I really didn't think much about controlling my powers. There was hardly anyone there at the time, so running into someone skin to skin was nearly impossible." Laughing, the miserable tone not as hidden as she'd probably planned it to be, she continued after swallowing hard. "But then, being an X-Man, I should have realized the inevitable and impossible are quick to become reality. I turned to leave a store and ran into someone. We both dropped our packages, and went to grab the same one at the same time. Our hands touched...it was a second or two at the most."

"Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"Logan...how could something that quick cause any real damage? There was no point to informing you of it, when nothing could come of it. I don't understand what this has to do with the blood tests, though?" Looking to Jean for answers, they knew she'd be quick to give them.

"The blood tests showed an...abnormality in your white blood cell count. The day you went shopping...was that near the time you started to feel tired?" Nodding hesitantly, Marie raised an eyebrow, wondering how Jean might be linking the two points of interest.

"It was about three days after that I really started getting tired and feverish..." Logan, growing impatient with each passing moment, finally decided to put an end to skirting around the topic at hand.

"Look, Jeannie, just give us the important details, all right? Avoiding the subject won't make it hurt less, and it certainly won't make things better."

"All right, Logan...I'm sorry. My thesis is, that when Marie received a piece of the person she came into contact with, she absorbed an illness that was plaguing that person. It's not, by any means, an unlikely situation."

"You keep sayin' she's sick, but you never say what it is?"

"You mentioned white blood cell count. Do you think it's-"

"Cancer?" Pressing her lips firmly together in a tight frown, Jean let out the sigh she'd suppressed for some time now. "There're no other possibilities. We've ruled everything else out, waiting for the tests to arrive. When they did...well...they confirmed that idea." Sinking back onto the bench, Logan stared ahead of himself at the doctor who'd just diagnosed Marie with having cancer. One of the worst sicknesses, because it was the hardest to treat.

"What...kind of cancer is it?"

"Leukemia." The response had come out as no more than a harsh, pained whisper. Logan was glad the School had a resident doctor. It saved them the trouble of having to go to an impersonal one for testing like this. That is, if they'd even treat mutants. But here, they knew that any news delivered, good or bad, had as profound an effect on the doctor as on the patients. "We can begin treatment as soon as possible." Logan noticed the small change in Jean's demeanor. She was trying not to add to the upset atmosphere by being sad herself. Instead, she switched into doctor mode, describing each and every possible aspect and option they had.

"Wait a second..." Holding up a hand, Logan suddenly laughed a little in relief. "Everything is all right. I got a healing factor, remember? I'll just touch her and let my powers, and hers, do the rest."

"It's not that simple, Logan. Cancer doesn't deal with something being broken and needing to be fixed. It is an entire area of bad marrow that needs to be removed and replaced if there is any chance at her surviving this. There are too many risks involved if you were to attempt to use your healing factor on her." The moment he opened his mouth to protest, Jean held a hand up firmly and continued on. "Until we test your theory on the healing factor and its effects on cancer, Marie is going to have to face this the traditional way."

"Through...chemotherapy, then?" Looking at the young girl before her, Jean offered a sad smile and a remorseful nod. Trying to be brave in the eyes of the woman who currently needed all the hope she could gather, Jean took a hand in hers and patted it gently. "It will be painful, there's no denying that. But with your strength and will power, I don't see why you shouldn't pull through." Hugging her friend tightly, Jean tried to believe her own words, but just then, the horrible news about her friend's condition was too much of an obstacle to get over.

"When do we start?" Logan held tightly to the hand in his own, noting absentmindedly that if it weren't for his adamantium laced bones, her grip would have crushed his hand fairly quickly. Other than the nervous hold she had on him, it was hard to tell what she was thinking and feeling at that moment. He smelled the fear on her, but it was masked by something stronger...something along the lines of pain. Not so much physical, but emotional.

The moment she swayed slightly, he took hold of her and pulled her up into his arms. "Easy, kid. You need to rest for now."

Looking at Jean, he made sure to keep his tone in a commanding, no nonsense voice. "We'll discuss specifics tomorrow." Noticing, barely, the welling of tears in the doctor's eyes, he turned toward the door with Marie in his arms, not wanting her to see the look he was receiving from Jean.

"Tomorrow, then." He'd never heard the usually strong voice sound so weak. Turning his head slightly to look at Jean he offered a tight smile of a reply.

"It'd be best if we didn't tell anyone about this. No reason t'get everyone all worked up."

"But Logan, they deserve to know-"

"Not until it's absolutely necessary, Jean." Narrowing his eyes to her, he felt the gentle probe of his mind for some kind of logical reasoning for it. He allowed her free reign, to sense what he was thinking. If there was one thing he knew about Marie, it was that she didn't like to come off weak to anyone. If they were to tell the rest of the team about this, the only thing Marie would receive was pity, something she abhorred more than anything. The only way any member of the team needed to see her was strong.

"What do we do when she starts the treatment?"

"One day at a time, Jeannie." Closing her eyes and lowering her head a moment, she nodded in agreement. "Thanks. For everything."

Looking down, Logan realized that Marie had fallen into a light slumber, and that he should get her to their room to make her more comfortable. "G'night." Leaving the infirmary, he waited for the door to shut behind him before starting upstairs to the bedroom quarters. He could hear the faint sound of a sharp sob and something metal hitting metal. Jean's clipboard, no doubt.

He wasn't sure how they would keep all of this a secret from the others, or even if doing so was fair. All he knew was that he was going to see to it Marie survived this tragedy, adding it to her other accomplishments. Thinking about his healing factor as he gently slipped the cotton socks from Marie's feet, he smirked slightly and wondered if maybe he could battle this enemy afterall.

Careful not to move too quickly, Logan was successful in getting both tiny feet under the comforter before pulling it up to her chin. She curled instinctively under the welcomed warmth, remaining asleep for the time being. Logan, meanwhile, curled up in the easy chair a few feet from the bed, too restless to sleep. The next day would be a trying one, for all of them. It was not something he was looking forward to in the least.

---

"What the hell were you thinking?" Standing before Marie, every muscle strained with the tension already seeping into him, he clenched his hands and stared at the form who was currently sitting atop her bed reading. He caught sight of her knuckles turning white from the tight hold she had on her book, then watched as her entire outward demeanor relaxed. Slowly peering over the book, she met his gaze and offered a small smile.

"Too much, actually." Closing the book when she realized the conversation they were about to have was going to be a long and serious one, Marie set it on the stand beside her lamp.Taking the action as a sort of hint, Logan moved across the room, after shutting the door to create some privacy, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Which thought made you angry?"

"How about the one that made you tell Jean you didn't want to start treatment til next month?" He watched her lips purse and knew she had a good answer to his question, but he wasn't about to let her speak until he'd gotten everything he wanted to say out of the way. She could explain after she realized that her actions weren't just affecting her any longer, that for some time now, everything she did was not only for herself, but for Logan as well. "You know how this works, Marie. You know that if you leave it untreated for a certain amount of time it's going to spread to a point where you can't fix it."

"Logan, I-"

"As much as I hate to admit it, this is not just some every day flu that will go away with the right amount of time. This is something you have to attack now if you have any chance of survival."

"You make it sound like it's some kind of war..." Pulling her knees up to rest her chin upon, Marie looked intently at Logan, even smiling some at the attitude he was taking. For a second her careless air made him tense all over again, thinking that she found this whole thing a sort of game.

"It is, Marie. And if we lose, your life is a casualty. There are so many people out there, people who've died from this thing because they didn't catch it in time to stop it. Any one of them would have wished they had your luck. We can get you better, if we start now."

"There's a chance it won't work. There's a chance that the treatment will fail and I'll lose my life anyway." Logan looked up from the spot on the floor he was concentrating on, realizing that she wasn't going to continue until he'd taken a seat beside her. When he did so, she took his large hands into her tiny ones and offered a tight squeeze as a failed attempt to calm his nerves. "What happens if we do this now, and nothing changes? I don't want to have spent the last amount of time on God's green earth pent up in a room, not allowed to leave the bed." Staring into her eyes silently, Logan tried to read exactly what was going on in her mind.

He didn't notice any self-pity, something that, if this were happening to him, he'd have seen. She wasn't being pessimistic about the entire situation, though, that much was apparent. From what he could tell, she was just being realistic, and though it killed him to think he might lose her, it was a situation that had to be addressed. "There's so many things I want to say, Logan. I want to make you understand it. As much as you may want it, I need you to be logical for me. I need you to recognize the possibility that this could kill me."

"How could I not realize it, Marie? Damnit, that thought's scaring the hell outta me..."

"I know...I know. I'm afraid too, but Logan we can't let the what ifs get in our way. If we do, our last moments will be nothing but painful, and that's not how I want to leave you." Letting out a sharp growl, he pulled his hands away from hers and flashed her an angry gaze.

"Marie, quit talkin' like that! I know you wanna be realistic here. I respect that. But you're talkin' like you're already a goner. You still have plenty of time to fight this thing, if you just give it a chance. Take the treatment now, while there's a better percent survival rate. If you love me, Marie...like you say you do..."

"Logan, I do...I always have. I'm not doing this to spite you, or hurt you...I'm doing this because if, and I say IF I die, Logan I want our memories to be good ones. I don't want you to look back on our time together and hurt from it. I want you to think of all the fun things we did. So please...just hear me out?" After taking in a deep breath, Logan let it out slowly through his nose and opened his eyes again.

"Fine." Realizing just how tense he was, she cleared her throat and shifted some on the bed, pulling her feet into an Indian style before starting again.

"Give me two weeks, then. Two weeks to do all the things I've ever wanted to do. Then, when I'm satisfied that I've lived as much as I could, I'll start the treatment."

"Two weeks...?" She watched as Logan mentally tabulated how far along the cancer could possibly get in that time span. It was obvious he was weighing the good versus the bad, and when he finally turned his attention back to her, Marie was fairly convinced that Logan was not going to agree to her bargain. Still., to her surprise, he grunted and nodded some in response.

"Fine. Two weeks. But I'm coming with you."

---

"Marie? I have the first round of medication here." She nodded in response, as was probably expected of her and quickly swallowed the pills as was directed. Logan stood in the corner, eyes shadowed by an emotion indescribable, and empty. The look made her shiver, or was that the fact that the room temperature was kept fairly low? "There will be side effects, it's almost inevitable. Some have nausea, others headaches...it depends on the individual almost entirely."

"How many rounds?" Both women jumped, not expecting to hear from the man who had been otherwise silent since they started the procedure at 6:00 that morning. Jean tried to clear her somewhat scrambled mind to find the correct number. "Well...generally it takes three. Though I've never studied leukemia in mutants before. With Rogue's super strength, it could very well only take one." He nodded some, and from the uncomfortable silence in the room, Jean was able to descern that the two wanted some time to be alone. Respecting their needs, she quickly gathered up her things, reminded Rogue that she'd be back in an hour or so to check on her, then left the room silently.

For a long time, Marie continued to stare out the window. Likewise, Logan continued to eye her, and though she knew it was only fair to say something, nothing came to her mind at that time. She realized he was upset...and though she knew it was foolish, she truely believed that this illness might tear them apart. After all, her views of her life differed greatly from Logan's. She wanted to live as long as possible before all this caught up with her. He wanted her to get rid of it now, possibly jeopardizing anything she'd do in the future. They both understood where the other was coming from, but it made communication about this topic uncomfortable.

And so they avoided it like the plague. Whenever they talked, it was of the vacation, or of the time they first met...but never about the impending circumstances each would be thrown into within a matter of time. "We can't go on like this." She looked over at the man she loved, wondering if he was thinking exactly what she was. She had him in her head, that much was certain, but there were times they both suspected there was a piece of hers in his as well. "Now, more than ever, kid, we need each other." Nodding, she didn't really have anything else to say in return, so she simply looked back out the window, faintly hearing the sound of metal against the floor as Logan dragged a chair beside the bed.

"Still thinking about the mini vacation?" When she murmured a quiet, positive response, he continued. "After this gets cleared up, I'll take you back there, darlin'. You 'n me..." The thought appealed to her, evident by the way her lips curled up into a smile. That would be nice. Different than this past trip, though. This time, they'd charished every minute of it. All the little things that one usually didn't notice in a passing day suddenly made themselves known; every little touch, little smile, little sound one of them made...the other drank it up with their senses. It was funny how a tragedy could easily make one more open to the life going on around them. Knowing there was a chance she wouldn't survive made her more apt to pick up on all the little things, instead of just looking at the big picture.

Still, a trip when she was well, (she smiled when she'd thought the word "when" rather than "if" this time) would do good for the both of them. Logan would want to celebrate her life and of course, so would she. But then, she could also let her mind lose, not keep it heavy with grief and the stress of trying to get everything she wanted to do in her life to fit into two weeks...fourteen short days that should have been longer.

"Beach was nice. Too many mosquitoes, though." And he frowned, scratching her arm, and she laughed, because she knew that he was honestly focusing on that for once, and it made her feel good to know that he was trying not to dwell so much anymore. Her sudden need for normalcy surprised her, so much so that she promised herself that no matter what happened to her, today or tomorrow, she wouldn't let anything change...at least, nothing she could prevent.

"Thank you...for...y'know...makin' Jean promise not to tell the others. Scott'll find out, of course, but that's all right, y'know? Because he's really good at controllin' his emotions, so no one'll find out anything from him." Logan nodded, and though it surprised both of them, he took her hand into his and kissed it gently, not because he was afraid to break her, but instead because he wanted to make clear all his true feelings for her. Showing them off was not something he was overly good at, though in private, he tried the best he could. Now, with time together possibly fading, he wanted to make sure she knew everything he felt, though he was pretty sure she did know, without him having to say anything.

For the time being, both were content to sit in almost silence, whispering memories of the vacation to one another before slipping into another lapse of reveries, both apart and together with one another. Logan drifted through the years he could remember, trying to discern thoughts and feelings from each section of his life. There was a before Rogue, a past he wasn't too fond of and therefore thought on rarely. There was the time when he'd first met her, thinking her too young and too naive to be setting foot in a bar. There was the time he'd been away, after promising himself as well as Marie that he'd return. And there was the time he chose to make Xavier's school his home, for as long as the benefactor allowed it.

When he'd managed to relive as many conversations, moments in time, and emotions as possible, he looked down at the woman he currently couldn't picture not taking part in his life. The future had seemed pretty dim, when he'd attempted to imagine a life without her. For now, though, she seemed at ease. Her face, while she slept as a result of the medication, was somber, a small smile passing over her lips, revealing to Logan the fact that she was most likely dreaming of the time they spent away from here.

Resting his head gently beside hers on the pillows Jean had given her, he closed his eyes, and forced his mind to think only of that time. A time when they were together, yet alone. Apart from all the things that threatened their existance, yet they knew it was always there, hovering just above their reach.

Taking Marie's free hand into his own, he smiled some at the picture it presented. His large hands, calloused from years of fighting and working with them, completely encompassed her own petite ones, delicate, well manicured, everythings his weren't. Squeezing it gently, to comfort himself mainly, he shut his eyes and tried to sleep...something he hadn't done in days.

---

She stared down, silently, at the two hands currently placed upon the large oak dresser. Alone in the room, she drank up the quiet, grateful that she had time to herself, away from the bustling students and gossiping teachers. The others had decided to take the children to the mall for the day, and though a few people stayed behind in the Mansion, the majority was happy to get out of the school for a while, and into the spring air.

She smiled some at the way the winter seemed to melt into summer, leaving the trees with bright leaves where the snow had been piled just weeks before. Everything seemed fresh, new, blossoming with a chance at a wonderful life.

And then there was her. Lowering her head at the thought, she noticed, faintly, that her fingers and knuckles had turned white from the amount of pressure she needed to put on them to keep herself standing. They'd told her that, with her enhanced strength, fighting the disease wouldn't be as difficult as it would if she were a normal human. If that was the case, she pitied any homo sapien who had to endure the sickness on their own.

At first, things hadn't changed. The day she began the chemotherapy treatment, she'd been a little more run down than usual. Honestly, it felt like she'd just spent a little too much time in the danger room, and that, with a few hours sleep, she would feel good as new again. And for some time, that theory was successful. She slept whenever she felt tired, continued to eat right and exercise, and everything went smoothly.

That was two months ago. Eight weeks, filled with a flood of medication, pitying looks from the few people that knew of her condition, and uncomfortable silences between herself and all her friends. There were days when she wanted to tell everyone what was happening to her, why she was always tired, always had that sad look in her eyes. But then she realized that the only thing she'd see when she spoke to them would be pity and fear, and that was not how she wanted her relationships to go.

Glancing over the many papers scattered about her desk, she sighed, suddenly filled with a rage so unexpected that it made her shake. She ran her hand violently along the top of the desk, shoving all the papers aside, causing the lamp to tumble to the floor and shatter. The sound was relieving, at first, but then, it made the dam somewhere deep inside her break, as she fell to her knees and buried her face into her hands.

She'd promised herself, at the beginning of all of this, that she would never let the cancer get the better of her. That she'd never have to break down and cry because the strain was too much. On the days when it felt she would break, she reminded herself that there were others in the world that had it worse off than herself. There were people who didn't have loved ones that wanted them to pull through this disease, that gave them a reason to survive.

But now, everything came at her at once, and for the first time since she'd found out about her situation, she wasn't prepared to hold it at bay. And she didn't want to. She let the feelings wash over her, because it was so much easier than pretending they weren't there. The strain of walking around, being with people, knowing that there was a chance that in a few weeks, months, days possibly, she wouldn't see them again, and having to smile while thoughts like that invaded her mind was too much for her. Having to deal with the constant fatigue eating away at her muscles, as well as her strength in general was becoming a task she really didn't want to face any longer.

There was a time, long ago, when she wondered how anyone would want to just die. She always thought that if you had someone caring for you, loving you, that you wouldn't want to let them go. Now she knew what those people were going through, everytime they chose to get out of bed, rather than stay there and give up. They had to face the people they knew they'd be leaving behind, just as she would.

It scared her, thinking that there'd come a day, where she'd close her eyes, and despite her efforts to stop it, she'd fade away. And when she woke again, she'd be far from the Mansion, from those that she cared for, that were her life force. She'd never hear Logan growl again, never hear Jean tease Scott for being too uptight... The thoughts were too much. They caused her chest to tighten unbearable, and her stomach began to knot painfully, as she stayed, knelt down on the ground, crying.

---

At some point, Logan came into the room. He'd come back from the awful trip to the mall that he'd sworn he wouldn't forgive her for making him go on. He'd smelt the blood, instantly, that she'd spilt when she attempted, through tearfilled eyes, to pick up the glass that was scattered about their rug.

She'd seen his mouth open to yell, in his commanding voice, and seek out what happened. But she knew he'd caught himself the minute she choked on a sob, and in the next instant he was on his knees himself, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close. He whispered her promises, promises that he'd take care of her, that nothing would ever harm her again. And she believed him because at that moment there was nothing else she had to think on.

She didn't argue when he lifted her off her feet and carried her, gently, to the bed beside the window. She'd asked him to push it up against the wall so that at night, when she got too uncomfortable from the pain to sleep, she could watch the moon. He'd done so without question, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eye as he gave the bed one quick push and got it over there.

Resting her still shaking form down on the covers, Logan moved to the door and shut it quietly, leaving them in peace for as long as Marie needed. He didn't speak as much anymore, though she knew why and understood. He often stayed, alone with his thoughts, observing all, being a part of all, yet not contributing all at once. He took up meditation again, stealing away whenever she was asleep or busy with something, to get in a few moments peace to clear his mind.

Keeping her in her normal attire, rather than take the time to get her into her pajamas, Logan pulled his jacket off, disposing of it on the floor for the time being. Any other time, she'd have folded her arms and glared at him, telling him that he hadn't found the jacket on the floor, so he shouldn't leave it on the floor. He'd growl, of course, and pick it up, pretending to be irritated with her little habit of being so proper, when in truth, he liked it.

But that was before all this became so complicated. For months, now, he watched Marie die from the inside out. He hated the way life treated her, never giving her a fair break. There was nothing he could do, though, but curse the world and have mini temper tantrums in the Danger Room when no one was around to see the Wolverine, and realize that for once in his life, he didn't have complete control.

Wrapping both arms around her waist, he pulled her back against his chest, continuing his mantra of soothing, comforting words. He could still smell the salt of her tears, but her shaking had subsided and left her to cry silently. After a few more light kisses on the top of her head and such, even that had gone away, leaving Marie for another victim. They remained silent after that, and after what seemed like an eternity, Logan's ears were greeted with the pleasant sound of Marie's even breathing as she slept.

Turning her ever so slowly, so that he could look into her face, he sighed to himself. She didn't ask for any of this. All of the good people he'd met in his lifetime always ended up being hurt, even though they never asked for it. They did things for others, risked their lives even, and their payback? To be attacked by anti-mutant humans who couldn't realize a good thing if it bit them in the nose. Mutants would only help the economy, help everything, if they were given the chance.

But he didn't care about any of that. He cared about Marie and the fact that she couldn't last much longer like this. She was strong, she could handle it physically, but it was taking its toll emotionally, anyone could see that. He knew how hard it had to be for her. She continued to play her role in the team, always being sarcastic, friendly, cheerful. She didn't want anyone to know that she was suffering inside, because she would never allow herself to appear weak. Not even to him, so it seemed, until now.

Suddenly, he looked at her face and realized he could do something about it. He could touch her. The experiments with his healing factor had so far been successful. There was nothing keeping him from doing it, really. No bad aspects left uncovered. All he would do was provide for her, a sort of medication that would heal the cancer, as well as all the pain it left in its wake.

She'd have him in her head, stronger than ever. With him there, there was no way she couldn't face all the strain that had come on with this. Everything would be okay.

He continued to tell himself that as he pulled off the gloves he'd been wearing.Everything would finally be okay. Marie wouldn't die after all...they'd be left alone to lead a healthy life, just the two of them...

Thinking back on the past two months...how much Marie had changed because of this, he knew he was right. He didn't want her to live through another day of being so tired she couldn't even get out of bed. There was no reason a woman, usually so strong, should have to sit through that. So he did what he had to do. Closing his eyes tightly, he prayed to whoever was out there that they'd show some mercy and let this work. The minute the words fell from his lips, he put his hand gently against Marie's cheek, lightly caressing it with his thumb. It took a few seconds before her power began, but he felt the tug of his lifeforce leaving him.

Smiling to himself, knowing that tomorrow Marie would be better, he closed his eyes, willing all of what he had inside him to go to Marie, to make her better. When he was sure it was enough, he let his hand fall, feeling the blackness, which he knew well and expected, come over him at last.