When Walls Come Tumbling Down



“Logan! Look out!”

Rogue screamed as the wall directly above the Wolverine buckled ominously outwards, threatening to fall as the feral dug a survivor from beneath its shadow, the wreckage from the ceiling which had already been brought down earlier with the force of the initial blast making progress slow. He glanced upwards, weighing his chances of clearing the area in time, before returning to his task and moving a section of battered lighting to free the legs of the woman trapped there. The wall gave an alarming groan as he caught her arm and hauled her to her feet, prompting another yell from Rogue. “For heaven’s sake, Logan, get out of there! Quit foolin’ around!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep yer panties on.” He huffed at her apparent impatience and spared his companion a quick glance. Currently working at the other side of the room, she was helping another survivor to struggle out from the wreckage of several mangled chairs and a desk, all of which had been rendered unrecognisable by a sizable chunk of masonry which had fallen from the wall behind her. The object of her rescue mission was clearly stunned and bleeding profusely from a deep cut on his forehead, as Rogue flung the last obstacle aside and helped him to his feet, obviously trying to divide her attention between the task at hand and keeping an eye on the errant feral.

Logan growled softly, earning himself a startled glance from the woman he had just rescued and was coaxing to walk on legs that didn’t seem to want to obey her mental commands anymore. He didn’t need watching, dammit! He was the Wolverine, not a two year old! From anyone else, he wouldn’t have tolerated such behaviour, but this was Rogue. And the Rogue was another matter entirely.

He stole another quick glance, noting the caring way she was helping her injured charge to sit, dabbing at his forehead with a white red-stained handkerchief. Where had she got that from? Since entering his life, she had completely turned it around and upside down, provoking responses in him that would have earned another man a swift kicking. But with Rogue, he was far more tolerant, even gentle. So what if she was watching out for him? Maybe it was nice to have someone at his back for a change?

She looked up just then and Logan felt his heart jolt as their eyes locked. God, she’s beautiful. Even covered in dust, one sleeve of her jacket ripped and her hair all mussed and pulled from its previously carefully arranged style, she still managed to make his chest tighten. She began to smile, reassuring him that she was okay, and then she flung out a hand in warning, her expression changing to one of alarm as the wall behind him emitted an ear-splitting crack.

“Oh my god! Logan, move!”

In the fraction of a second available to him, Logan considered his options. He could duck and cover – protect the woman with his own body and trust that the adamantium would save her from injury. But could he save her from the weight of his adamantium if the wall proved to be too heavy for him to hold?

It was no contest – he knew what he had to do. The woman’s safety was paramount – his was not.

“Move it!” Reacting now on pure instinct, he thrust the woman away from him, then whirled to face the wall, flicking out his claws even as the first few chunks of masonry detached from the whole and dropped heavily to the ground. The woman, seeing the danger, made immediately for safer ground, but her legs, having being trapped under heavy chunks of ceiling for so long, were numb and bloodied, and she could only manage an ungainly hobble as, behind her, the mutant known as the Wolverine swung his claws at a chunk of stone that would surely have killed her outright if it had hit her, obliterating it instantly and showering her with dusty fragments.

Then Rogue was at her side, pulling her to safety and screaming for Logan to get clear, before her words were drowned by the awful sound of falling masonry and the feral howl of the man who hadn’t moved fast enough.

The woman held fast to Rogue’s arm as the younger woman lunged forward, reaching out as her companion disappeared under the crumbling wall. The ceiling, already weakened by the initial blast, also gave way entirely, creating a sizable hole through which the floor above could be glimpsed.

In the aftermath of the collapse, dust drifted lazily in the air and fell to settle heavily on clothes and fallen masonry. Those survivors that had already been saved from being buried alive, coughed as the cloying residue was breathed into tortured lungs and several of the more level headed among them started forward to search for the mutant who had willingly given his time, and maybe his life, to save them from a painful death, only to be brought up short by the agonised shout from a girl who had dared to accompany him into hell.

“No! Don’t touch him! Get away from him!”

Rogue ran forward, scrambling over the rubble, oblivious to the shifting stones beneath her feet, searching for the man who had saved her life twice, in more ways than one. She knew he wasn’t dead – he couldn’t be dead – the Wolverine couldn’t be killed by something as mundane as a falling wall, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be hurt, maybe lying unconscious, being slowly suffocated by the dust and fallen debris. She had to find him.

A low groan attracted her attention and she swerved right, pushing aside a desk which had fallen from the floor above to find Logan pinned beneath a wholly intact section of the wall. She fell to her knees at his side, feverishly flinging aside the smaller pieces of debris that lay around him.

His eyes fluttered open and he tilted his head to regard her muzzily, his lips quirking into that lopsided smile that she loved so much. “I seem ta be stuck here, Marie. Care ta give a fella a hand?”

Rogue let out the breath that she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding, relief flooding through her at the realisation that he was alive and relatively well. She smiled down at him, one gloved hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of silky black hair away from his eyes. “We’ll have you outta there in a jiffy, sugah,” she whispered, and was rewarded with a dazzling smile and an acknowledging nod.

She turned then, her eyes seeking for, and finding, the four men they had already rescued from the rubble of the blast. “Give me a hand here,” she demanded, and three of the men moved immediately forward, leaving the fourth to move back against the far wall. Rogue glared at him, gesturing him forward with an impatient hand, but he shook his head and leaned back against the wall, folding his arms defiantly. She was on the verge of marching over and physically dragging him back to help when a gentle hand dropped onto her shoulder and she turned to find herself face to face with a guy barely older than herself.

He shook his head. “Don’t,” he said, softly. “Pete doesn’t like mutants.”

Rogue couldn’t stop the incredulous expression that crawled onto her face. “But we saved his life,” she insisted, dumbfounded.

The guy shrugged as if this was of no consequence. “Don’t let it bother you,” he responded, reassuringly. “Let’s just concentrate on getting your man out from under there.” He released her shoulder and moved to stand on one side of the concrete block pinning Wolverine. The other two men positioned themselves beside him, including the one Rogue had saved earlier, still bleeding and looking slightly shaky on his feet, but determined to help the mutants who had saved his life.

Despite the gravity of the situation, Rogue couldn’t stop her mind from slipping back to focus on the young man’s words. Her man. He had called Logan her man. Was the connection between them now so obvious that even outsiders couldn’t ignore it? It was no secret amongst her close friends back at the mansion that she was hopelessly in love with the dark eyed feral, and she was sure he loved her too but, so far, neither of them had acted on their feelings. In Rogue’s case, this was simply because she had no desire to look like a fool if she chose to display her affections and she was wrong. But she couldn’t be wrong, could she? Was it really her imagination that caused his eyes to darken every time she drew near, or his breath to catch in his throat when she smiled at him? Was she so desperate for his love that she saw affection where there was none? And so, uncertainty caused her to keep her silence, worshipping the feral from afar, yet all the while hoping that, if anyone saw her desire, it would be him and he would come to her one night and make her his.

“Everybody ready?” The young man’s voice jolted into her reverie and she looked around to see their three saviours braced against the block of concrete, ready to lift. She glanced down at Logan. “Ready, sugah?” she asked, gently.

Logan nodded, gritting his teeth. “Go ahead,” he growled.

“We’re gonna lift this as high as we can,” the young man informed her. “Drag him out from under it as soon as there’s clearance.”

Rogue reached out a tentative hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The young man nodded, the barest flick of his head. “Save it till we’ve got him out,” he responded, smartly. He turned away to check on his two companions. “Ready? Okay, heave!”

Muscles stood out on arms and necks as the three men put their backs into lifting the dead weight skywards. Rogue hovered uncertainly, wanting to help, but knowing that she was not strong enough for her aid to be of any use and so she crouched at Logan’s shoulders, waiting for the block to move so that she could pull him free.

With infinite slowness, the block shifted, wringing a gasp of pain from Logan’s lips and Rogue glanced down at him worriedly. A second shift had him crying out and she flung out a restraining hand, instinctively knowing that the Wolverine would never betray a weakness unless something was terribly, horribly wrong. “No, stop! The block’s too heavy! You’re hurting him!”

The young man staggered aside, rubbing chafed hands down his trousers, breathing hard with the exertion. “We can’t shift it cleanly. It’s too heavy. We need more manpower.” He glanced helplessly at Pete, but the self-confessed mutant hater turned away, resolutely refusing his aid.

“Rogue.” Logan’s voice forced her eyes downward and she shuffled around to his side so that he could see her. “Rogue, ya’ve gotta go. Get these people to safety.”

Rogue couldn’t believe what he was asking her to do. “Logan, no! Ah’m not leaving you …… !”

“Rogue, listen ta me. The buildin’ isn’t safe. Ya have ta get these people out before it collapses or there’s another blast.”

“No, Logan, please ……” Rogue’s eyes filled with tears and she plucked helplessly at the torn sleeve of her once favourite green jacket. “Don’t make me leave you here ……”

“Marie, ya have ta go. Send firemen back with cuttin’ gear once yer safe ……”

It was his use of her real name that shocked her back to her senses. She knew what she had to do and she also knew that one X-Man would never abandon another. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do, you big oaf! Ah’m not going, an’ that’s final!”

Logan’s face darkened visibly and she braced herself for the oncoming storm, only to be reprieved at the final hour by the young man, who stepped into Logan’s line of sight, squaring himself up admirably under the intense feral glare. “I’ll get them all out, sir. Miss …… Rogue, is it? …… can stay with you, if that’s what she wants and I’ll send the firemen back.”

“I don’t want her ta stay ……”

“Thanks. Ah appreciate that.” Rogue cut over the feral’s protests, letting him know, in no uncertain terms, that she was not to be trifled with.

The young man smiled. “The name’s Steve,” he said, and then turned away, gathering the other three men and the lone woman together and herding them towards the exit that would eventually lead to the stairway and safety. Rogue watched them go with mixed feelings, proud that she and Logan had saved these four lives and yet sad for those they had not. Yet surely any lives saved were better than none? It was the creed the X-Men lived and breathed by and it had to count for something.

She shifted position slightly, feeling a strange dampness at her knees and wondering if she was sitting in the puddle from a burst water pipe. The floor, when she looked down, glistened wetly with a red sheen.

“What the …… ? Oh my god, that’s blood! Logan, you’re bleeding!”

Logan nodded, weakly. “I know,” he replied, simply.

“But how? Why?” Rogue ducked down, trying to see under the masonry pinning him down. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“My body won’t heal around a foreign intrusion.”

“An intrusion? What the hell are you talking about, Logan?” Rogue was beginning to look and sound panicked.

Logan sighed. This was precisely the confrontation he’d wished to avoid. He had no desire to cause her pain, but it was all water under the bridge now. “Some walls have metal strutwork running through em’ to make ‘em stronger. Evidentally, this was one o’ those walls. I didn’t realise it at first, but one o’ the struts has gone through me. It’s anchorin’ me ta the floor, which is why the guys weren’t able ta lift it.”

Rogue’s eyes were wide as she listened to his words. He braced himself, prepared for the tears, for the hurt and remorse. What he got was anger. “And you were planning on telling me this when exactly?” she demanded, rocking back on her heels and folding her arms, defiantly.

Logan forced a smile. “After ya’d sent the firemen back with the cuttin’ gear,” he admitted, ruefully.

“For heaven’s sake, Logan!” Rogue cast around the room, anxiously, looking for something, anything, that would help the situation and seeing nothing but the ruined shell of a room that had once been a busy office complex. “Can’t you use your claws and cut yourself free?”

“Oh, jeez, I never thought of that.” Logan rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue in mock annoyance, realising he may have gone too far when he saw Rogue’s expression. “Claws are useless, darlin’,” he amended. “Arms are pinned an’ can’t get leverage.” He winked in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion. “S’okay, Marie, yer friend’ll send the fire fighters back an’ I’ll be outta here in no time.”

“And what if they don’t get here in time? What if you bleed to death before they ..... Oh!” She broke off as Steve and his little group re-entered the room. He left everyone by the far wall and moved across the room toward Rogue and Logan. Rogue got to her feet expectantly as he approached.

“The stairs are out,” he said, without preamble, as he drew near. “They’re simply gone, for at least four floors. There’s no way out, until the fire crews figure out how to get to us.”

“Oh my god.” Rogue looked down at Logan. “No cutting gear.”

“No cuttin’ gear,” confirmed the feral.

Steve licked his lips, nervously, eyeing the blood staining the lower half of Rogue’s jeans. “I’ll …… er …… I’ll leave you in peace then. I’ll be over there if you need me.”

“Thanks, Steve.” Rogue’s heartfelt words were meant to reassure the young man that she regarded none of this as his fault, but she wasn’t sure if he was even listening. She remained standing for a moment as he walked slowly back to join the others and then glanced down at her fellow X-Man. Logan’s face was clouded.

“Well, that’s that, then,” he declared, grimly.

“It’s no laughing matter, Logan.” Rogue dropped back down to her knees at his side, her face flushed with worry. “Y’all had better get your brain in gear an’ start figuring out what we can do.” The stress of the situation was bringing her Southern accent to the fore. Normally, Logan found the way she drew out her words as sexy as hell. Now, he just felt tired and incredibly weak. His injury and the blood loss was obviously beginning to take its toll.

Seeming to sense his discomfort, Rogue put a gloved hand to his cheek. “Don’t worry, sugah. There’s bound to be a way out of this. We just need to put our minds to it, that’s all ……” She paused, her face brightening as a thought occurred to her. “Wait a minute! Xavier! That’s it! I’ll call the Professor!”

Logan’s face crumpled in confusion. “What, ya brought yer cell phone? Christ, Marie, ya coulda said.”

“No, silly.” Rogue nudged him lightly on the shoulder, mindful of his injuries. “Ah’ll contact the Professor telepathically. Watch.”

Although she didn’t need to, she closed her eyes, concentrating on the familiar features of the Professor and reaching out with her thoughts, calling him to her. She didn’t have a clue how this sort of thing worked, but he didn’t seem to have any trouble contacting team members when they were in the field, so she figured he kept a mental ear open for any sign of trouble. She seriously hoped he was ‘listening’ in the right direction today.

*Rogue?* Despite being prepared for it, hearing the Professor’s voice in her head made her jump slightly. *Are you alright, child? You seem agitated*

Professor, Logan and I are in a spot of bother. There was a gas explosion in an office block and we came to help, but …… well, that’s not important right now, but Logan’s been hurt and we can’t move him.

*Hurt how badly, Rogue?*

A wall fell on him, Professor. He’s pinned beneath it, but there’s this piece of metal anchoring him to the floor. He’s bleeding really badly.

*Rogue, the X-Men are making their way to the jet as we speak. I’m going down to Cerebro to monitor you both from there and direct the team to your location. Try to keep Logan calm until they arrive*

Okay, Professor. Hurry. I don’t know how long Logan can last out.

She broke contact and opened her eyes, blinking slightly in the dusty air. Logan looked back at her, his normally bright eyes appearing dull and full of pain. “Well?” he asked.

“They’re coming,” replied Rogue, simply. “We just need to wait it out for a while.”

Logan puffed out an annoyed breath, fidgeting slightly beneath the confines of his prison. “If I could just unsheathe my claws I’d be outta here in seconds ……” A low growl rumbled in his chest and Rogue guessed he was testing his theory. “It’s no use. The way I’m pinned, I’ve got no leverage ta use ‘em.” He snorted. “Who’s idea was it ta come inta this blasted hellhole anyway?”

Rogue smiled at him, comfortingly. “If ah remember rightly, sugah, it was yours.”

“Figures. Never could keep my nose outta other people’s problems. Get me killed, one o’ these days.”

“Not you, Logan. You’re as tough as they come.” She reached out to stroke his glossy black hair, streaked now with dust, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, making her heart leap with the implications of that action. Did he crave her contact as much as she craved his?

It was her desire to be close to the feral that had led to their current predicament and she felt slightly guilty that she was partly responsible for his pain. But the romantic comedy she had so desperately wanted to see was playing only at a small cinema in the city and, with no one else willing to accompany her, she had fallen back on Logan, hoping that the connection between them wouldn’t allow him to desert her in her hour of need. And so it was that the mighty Wolverine, Champion of the clan Yashida, protector of the Honour Sword, and undisputed holder of the Laughlin City King of the Cage title, came to accompany a twenty year old Southern Belle to a romantic comedy.

As they left the cinema and walked back to his jeep, he had slipped a protective arm around her shoulders, and Rogue had snuggled close, finding it easy to pretend that they were young lovers out on their first date. But fate had taken a hand in things when, distracted by the wail of police sirens, they had detoured from their path to discover that a gas explosion in the upper floors of an office block had trapped several late-night workers and the fire crews were at a loss as to how to reach them.

Never one to miss an opportunity to prove that mutants were not the menace they were made out to be, Logan offered his services and so, with orders for the fire crews to stay well out of the way should there be further explosions, the Rogue and the Wolverine entered the fray.

Which brought Rogue’s thoughts neatly back to the here and now, with the Wolverine trapped and possibly bleeding to death before her very eyes, and all of them stranded on the sixth floor of the fire blasted building. Or was it the seventh? She’d lost count on the way up.

She glanced down at Logan, startled to see his eyes closed in a face that was ashen and held none of its usual colour and vitality. His breathing was almost none existent and sudden panic had her nudging his shoulder in an effort to wake him. “Logan?” He didn’t respond and she jumped as Xavier’s voice echoed in her head.

*You must wake him, Rogue. If he sleeps, he may never come around*

Taking a great risk, Rogue slapped the X-Man hard across the face. People who man-handled the Wolverine usually didn’t live long enough to boast about it, but she was too fearful of his well-being to worry about the consequences of her actions right now. “Logan! Wake up!”

He jerked awake, his eyes snapping open to rove around the room, distractedly, before fastening onto Rogue. “Wha …… ?”

“Ah think you passed out.” Rogue leaned over him, forcing him to focus on her. “Logan, you have to stay awake. It’s dangerous for you to sleep.”

“M’tired, Marie.” The feral’s eyes were already drifting closed once more and Rogue patted his face, anxiously. He growled, warningly. “Lemme sleep.”

“Logan, no! Stay awake!” She shoved roughly at his shoulder, earning herself a grunt of pain in protest of the rough treatment. She felt guilty, but figured it was worth it if he stayed with her. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, y’hear?”

The growl that rumbled through his chest almost made her hair stand on end but, to his credit, he forced his eyes open and regarded her, muzzily. She reached out to stroke his cheek. “That’s it, sugah. Stay with me now.”

His head tilted lazily in a nod and he coughed, spitting up blood. Rogue’s heart sank, recognising that he was in a bad way, yet still trying to convince herself that he would bounce back from this. He was the Wolverine, when all was said and done. He was virtually indestructible, and he’d proved that time and again in the past. How could a simple lump of metal through the gut be causing so much trouble?

She closed her eyes, reaching out through the void. Professor?

*Here, child*

Professor, you have to hurry. Logan’s really bad now.

*I know. I can sense his lifeforce failing*

Oh god ……

*Don’t panic, Rogue. The others will be with you any time now*

But Logan ……

*Stay with him, child. Don’t let him go. It’s up to you now*

She opened her eyes to find Logan watching her, intently, his forehead creased into a worried frown. She put out a hand to touch his cheek and he blinked slowly, seeming to gather his thoughts before speaking.

“I want ya ta touch me, Marie.”

“What?” Rogue recoiled in horror. “No, ah can’t!”

“Yes, ya can, Marie. I need ta feel yer skin touchin’ mine. Jus’ once …… before ……”

Rogue was shaking her head, violently. “No, Logan! Ah won’t touch you! If my control fails ……”

*Do as he says, Rogue. He thinks he’s dying …… he doesn’t want to be alone*

But, Professor, if ah lose control, ah’ll drain him ……

*No, you won’t. I have complete faith in you, child. And Logan trusts you. Look at him, Rogue. He needs you*

She did look at him, to see him gazing at her with such love in his eyes that her heart almost broke. Knowing she could never deny this man anything, she slowly pulled off first one glove and then the other, seeing Logan’s gaze lower to watch the action. With agonising slowness, giving him every opportunity to change his mind, she reached out to press her palm to the feral’s cheek, intimately touching skin to skin for the first time, and feeling her heart soar with the giddy rush of emotion the contact induced. He turned his head to nuzzle his nose into her hand, breathing deeply of her scent, and she giggled as his soft whiskers tickled her fingers. There was no pull from her power, no sense of his psyche rushing into her head to overwhelm her with his memories – just the gentle touch of two people who let too much go unsaid.

With her other hand, she gently stroked his hair back from his face, delighting in the feel of the silky strands through her fingers, not noticing as his breathing slowed and his eyelids fluttered fitfully, finally closing as a soft sigh whispered past his lips, breathing her name one last time.

Marie ……

“Oh my god! Logan! Professor!”

*Don’t panic, Rogue. The others have arrived. Look for them, Rogue. Guide them to you*

Releasing Logan, she stood, her hands balling into fists at her sides as she threw all her mental power into one single, burning summons. We’re here ….. !

Seconds later, Jean burst into the room, a fiery avenging angel in black leather, her arms held wide for dramatic effect as she telekinetically pushed debris out of her way. Kitty, Storm and Bobby followed closely on her heels.

“Jean! Over here!” Rogue frantically waved the redhead over, hardly noticing that Storm was organising the evacuation of the survivors, sending Bobby back to the stairwell to create a series of ice-slides for them to slide down to safety and the waiting arms of the paramedics. Jean vaulted a desk that lay in her way as she hastened to Rogue’s side, looking down on the stricken feral with such tenderness in her eyes that Rogue experienced a sharp pang of jealousy.

“Okay, Kitty, you know what to do. Just like we practised, okay?”

Kitty nodded and crouched, placing her hands on Logan’s shoulders. Gently, she extended her power outwards and into the other mutant, phasing his body and pulling him free of the metal spike that held him imprisoned.

Once free of the masonry, the extent of his injury became apparent. A gaping hole in his shirt revealed torn and bloody flesh beneath and his jeans were soaked with blood. Rogue hovered anxiously nearby as Jean telekinetically sealed the wound, preventing further blood loss, and prepared to transport him to the waiting jet. With Storm and Bobby already helping the survivors, Kitty scrambled over the debris heading for the way out, inadvertently dislodging a precariously balanced girder which had fallen from the ceiling, setting up a chain reaction that sent more deadly missiles falling around them through the widening gap in the ceiling.

“Rogue! Look out!” Jean, already shielding Logan’s body from the fall-out, was too late to deflect the chair that cracked into the back of the Southern Belle’s head. Blood pouring copiously from the vicious wound, she fell to the floor, unconscious, just inches from Logan, the white streaks in her hair lying in a pool of the feral’s blood and blushing crimson.

“Oh my god! Jean, I’m sorry!” Kitty’s face turned white as she realised the damage she had wrought. “Is she dead?”

“No, thank the lord, but this is a nasty wound. We need to get both of them to the jet immediately.” Jean, concentrating on Rogue, did not notice Logan stirring beside her. Freed of the metal spike, his healing factor was slowly starting to kick in, bringing with it a certain amount of awareness and the sharp tang of blood. Marie’s blood. Howling inwardly at the thought that his beautiful Marie was lying injured beside him, he slowly turned his head, almost choking at the sight of the blood matting into her hair and staining Jean’s hands as she sought to staunch it. His mind was still groggy and his body sluggish, but he knew what he had to do, even if it cost him dearly.

“Jean! Stop him!” Kitty realised his intent too late to stop the feral’s hand from wrapping around Rogue’s still bare and smaller one. Unconscious, she had no control over her power, and Logan gasped as he felt the familiar and deadly pull, leeching away his memories, his healing factor, his very life.

Defying all Jean’s efforts to telekinetically separate them, Logan held on. Held on until he knew his body could give no more – until blackness reached in from the corners of the room to crowd out what was left of his vision – until Marie – his Marie – sat up with a startled gasp to realise what he had done. Only then did he let go and fall limply back, a satisfied smile touching his lips as the last of his lifeblood bled out onto the floor ……


oooOOOooo



“Why did he do it, Jean?” Rogue looked up as the redhead moved to the back of the jet to check on their precious cargo, asking aloud the question she had run through her brain many times since they had hooked Logan, barely alive, into the med-unit. Now, only minutes away from the mansion and the advanced medical facilities waiting there, she allowed herself to look down at Logan’s ashen face, frozen now in an expression of serene calm.

Jean carefully checked the systems that were keeping the feral alive until his body could shake off the effects of Rogue’s mutant power. “You, of all people, should know the answer to that, Rogue.”

Rogue allowed herself a moment of hope, barely able to suppress the sigh that ghosted past her lips. “Does he love me, Jean? Can ah even allow myself to believe?”

But Jean kept silent, knowing that nothing she could say was going to help.

They had to work it out for themselves.


oooOOOooo


Logan jolted awake with a grunt, instinctively knowing he was in the med-lab and suppressing the panic that rose up in his gut. Easy. This isn’t the Weapon X lab. You’re safe here.

He raised a shaky hand to his forehead, instantly scenting the residual traces of Marie around him, and knowing that she had been keeping him company while he recovered. Something moved in his peripheral vision and he tilted his head to see Jean moving towards him, smiling warmly to welcome him back to the land of the living.

“Déjà vu, eh, Jeannie?” Why was it that saving Rogue always resulted in a trip to the med-lab?

“Yeah. We must stop meeting like this, Logan. People will talk.” Jean smiled as she checked his wounds, completely healed now. “Rogue’s fine,” she volunteered, in response to the unspoken question in his eyes. “She sat with you for the last twelve hours and she’s exhausted. I sent her to her room to rest.” She considered her next question carefully, but needing to know. “Why did you do it? You could have died.”

“It would have been worth it to save her.” Logan coughed to cover the embarrassment he felt at uttering such a statement. Jean eyed him speculatively as she unhooked the various drips and monitors surrounding him and helped him to sit up.

“I think she feels the same way about you, Logan. I know she wouldn’t leave you when you wanted her to go. Don’t you think you’ve tortured her enough?”

“Excuse me?”

Jean shook her head at the stupidity of man. “She loves you, Logan. Has done ever since you brought her here. But she’s not a frightened little girl any more. She’s a woman. A woman who loves a feral who seems to think he’s protecting her by keeping away.”

Logan growled. “I’m dangerous, Jean.”

Jean huffed. “No, you’re not. You think you are, but you are capable of so much more. Rogue has sensed that. You’re kindred spirits, Logan. Don’t let what you could have together go to waste.”

He startled her then by sliding down off the med-table, scattering the last of the monitors as he pulled the wires from his body. Jean turned as he stalked past her, heading for the door. “Where are you going?”

“Out. I’ve got a lot of thinkin’ ta do.”

The med-lab door rumbled closed behind him and Jean stooped to gather up the fallen equipment, tutting softly to herself.

So much for saying nothing.


oooOOOooo


The mansion was silent around her as Jean made her way back to the room she shared with Scott. The younger students had retired hours ago – most of the older ones too. Several of the teaching staff, however, were still up and around, catching up with chores or watching reruns of the horror movie marathon in the rec room. She had no use for such entertainment – horror movies gave her nightmares – and she had an early training session booked for the Danger Room in the morning. Before she retired, however, she wanted to check on Rogue. She hadn’t seen Logan since he had ‘discharged’ himself from the med-lab that morning and she wanted to make sure the feral’s characteristic disappearance hadn’t upset her too deeply.

Raising her hand to knock on Rogue’s door, Jean paused as she heard soft voices from within – soft tender voices, whispering words of endearment and love. A gentle moan, the sensual, almost barely perceptible brush of skin on bare skin, and a breathy exclamation …… oh, Logan …… had Jean backing away from the door in a hurry, a scarlet blush colouring her cheeks and a smile touching her lips.

No need to ask Rogue how she was coping with Logan’s ‘absence’. The Southern beauty had her feral exactly where she wanted him ……


Finis