Walking just behind Logan she couldn't see much past him, her eyes on the center of his back, her nose literally a few inches away from his shirt. He was walking slowly and she matched his pace but found her footsteps to be hesitant to follow. Logan's feet dragged with each step and she knew she wasn't the only one who felt the hesitation.
She'd wanted to do this. She'd been the one to ask and so she had to follow through strongly. Logan had been quiet since they had entered the forest. At first, she'd recognized the area and the paths, until they continued deeper. The brush becoming thick on either side of her but she noticed that the pathway was clear and wide enough for a small vehicle to come through.
She shook her head as the present day forest disappeared from her view and in its place, she could see herself running, running as fast as she could along the path but coming from the direction they were now presently heading towards. Her legs were pumping hard and fast as she ran, her expression tight with tension and concern. She whipped along the wind as fast as her body allowed, which with her training as both an X- man and as Weapon X, added with Logan's powers was faster then the average person but she still didn't think she'd make it in time. There seemed to be a shortage of time.
A scream cut out across the night and she pushed herself further through the darkness without any light. The scream belonged to Jean. It was the third one she'd heard. She'd heard the first from their side of the land which was a stretch even for her but Jean was in pain and she sounded like she was outside.
A red beam shot up into the sky like a flare and she knew Scott and Jean were making their way towards her. The sound of an engine somewhere behind her roared with life and she knew Logan was gaining ground on the large four-wheeler ATV they owned.
From the light of the moon, she could make out two figures, as she was able to spot the edge of the forest. Once she was closer, she could make out every detail of Scott and Jean. Scott's face was tense as he practically dragged Jean beside him. Rogue dropped to her knees just in front of them at the exact same time Jean staggered. Both she and Scott cradled Jean as she lay on the ground.
Jean was breathing more deeply then even she was after her run. Sweat plastered Jean's red hair against her forehead.
"Jean?" she spoke fearfully.
Jean's face creased in pain. The other woman's hand latching on tightly to hers and she could suddenly see Jean more clearly as light came quickly from behind them as Logan approached.
"The baby," Jean gasped. "Something's wrong with the baby."
"Marie?" Logan called, which seemed odd since he wasn't close to her yet, he sounded like he was right beside her.
"Marie."
Her head swam and she blinked suddenly against the sun, realizing it was daytime and not the night of her memory. She looked up and Logan was frowning at her.
"I'm alright," she spoke as she moved up closer.
Logan opened his arms up and she slid up beside him and leaned against him. They continued to walk but she noticed he sniffed his way along her skin checking her scent for any change. The truth was that she did feel fine. She felt better knowing who she was. When the memories continued to trickle through her head they were no longer painful and instead they flowed gently because they were no longer forced upon her, she was learning to accept them. Glancing at the path around her, she noted that it was still well kept.
They'd been walking for just over ten minutes and she knew it couldn't be much further. It was a surprise at first when she spotted the house so suddenly. She'd imagined it being as open as Scott's house was but when the sun no longer glared before her she realized it was exactly how she remembered it.
The forest didn't exactly end around the structure like the Summer's home, instead the forest curled around it, protecting it. She knew that at the back of the house there was a small open area but nowhere near as large as Scott's backyard. She knew that trees then sprouted up from the ground leading the way to an isolated river that if you followed would lead into a private lake.
The house itself was no were near as large as the Summer's, it had been built decades before. Logan had owned it even before they had gotten married but she remembered through the years they had kept it up and repaired it. The wood was much darker and looked more like a cabin then an actual house but when they'd been together, they had added on to it. It was two storey's high with a storage room in the basement. They'd also eventually added a porch on to the front and on the back there was a bigger deck.
She moved forward all on her own and Logan was no longer latched to her side. Tentatively she stepped on the first step and then the other as she made her way up towards the door. She glanced to the right and frowned when there was no bench swing dangling from the rafters. She had fond memories of spending nights outside with Logan on it. Instead, two rusted chains hung pitifully in mourning.
She turned to look for Logan but before she'd even turned around his hand was suddenly on her lower back, telling her he was there and encouraging her silently. She steadied herself, reached for the golden doorknob, and found it easily turned under her touch. The door eased open smoothly and she found herself thinking it odd that it didn't squeak in protest from un-use, from her being absent for decades, which was absurd since clearly Logan was still living in it.
A gasp escaped her as she entered the house. The familiarity of it all, the wave of memories sprouting up around her as she remembered being happy in this place. Although, the house looked like an old-fashioned cabin on the outside, the inside was just as decorated as the Summer's house was. There was a small hallway by the door, a living room to the side, a kitchen with a table and four chairs, a small bathroom and a closet. There was a smaller door in the kitchen that she knew led down into the storage. In front of her past, a well-worn animal skin rug, were stairs leading up.
"It's not much," Logan whispered behind her.
It took her a moment to find her voice but when she did, it was strong. "It's always been enough, Logan."
First, she headed towards the kitchen with her fingers trailing along the walls. The kitchen wasn't large but it had always been enough for them. Her fingers danced along the table and she was glad to find it was the same table Logan had furnished himself. She smiled to herself, recalling all the mornings they had spent making breakfast and flirting and how many times they had always gotten carried away and breakfast was left burning and no longer edible. Past the storage door there was a screen door that she knew led out on to the back porch.
Logan was so quiet behind her that it surprised her when he moved up swiftly behind her and kissed her on her shoulder, his hands coming to rest on her hips as he swayed her slightly.
"I've become a much better cook since you've been g.. .away," he whispered in her ear. "Too much time for actual concentration and attention."
She supposed it was a good thing he hadn't burned down the house but she knew he didn't mean it in a good way, he'd been alone, alone in this house, their house and he’d had nothing to distract him, nothing to make him feel alive.
He kissed her shoulder again and then moved back, allowing her to glide into the next room. The living room was much bigger then the kitchen and took up more than half of the first floor. There was a large fireplace on the far wall with a rug in front of it. In the middle of the room was a long couch with a coffee table and then a loveseat and in the fair corner there was a small desk.
She moved into the middle of the room, the spot in front of the fireplace had been her favourite; wrapped up in blankets, surrounded by Logan. She noted the long couch and the fact that it seemed more worn down then the rest of the furniture. She frowned taking in the worn out cushions and the noticeable claw marks where the foam stuffing peeked out. There was a pile of blankets and pillows dumped at the end of the couch that were covered in Logan's scent. In fact, the living room looked like the most lived in place. The rug was worn down and at least two shades lighter then she remembered. Empty whiskey bottles and beer cans littered the floor underneath the coffee table, and on top of it was a well-used tray filled with cigar ashes. Her nose twitched taking in the smell, wondering how she'd failed to notice the second she'd walked in.
A piece of paper caught her attention that was sticking out from underneath one of the couch cushions. Moving forward she pulled it out delicately and found herself looking at her own eyes. She held an old photograph in her hand. It had obviously been folded several times; the edges were fuzzy with evidence that it had been shoved into someone's pocket more then once. She was smiling in the photo and she just knew Logan was standing somewhere behind the camera, just from the look in her eye. She couldn't recall exactly if he was the one taking the picture or the exact timeline of its capture but she knew it was sometime before the cure, before their world had fallen apart on them, before they'd abandoned each other. Gently, she put the photo back in its unusual place and smiled as she looked around realizing even through it all they had built a happy life together.
The exact answer as to why the living room and couch was so worn down came to her when she spotted the stairs. Logan had been leaning against the archway with his back to her the entire time she'd been inspecting the living room. She knew with out a doubt what he needed was a good cigar to occupy him with but he was behaving himself. Her eyes followed the stairs and she was perturbed by the darkness that slithered from above down towards her. The darkness screaming at her that it was to be ignored, that the upstairs somehow did not exist.
She stepped on the first step and then the second with her hand reaching for the rail. She pulled back at the feel of the wood. Gazing at her hand, she noted the filth and dust that covered her like a second skin. Looking down at the two steps she'd passed, she could clearly make out her foot prints in the dust. No one had been upstairs in a very, very long time.
With her eyes narrowing in concern, she looked towards Logan but found he still had his back to her. His body was hunched over protectively. Turning her gaze back up the stairs, she thought about continuing without him, seeing it for herself because she wasn't afraid. Except that was the problem, she wasn't the one that was afraid, the one who had to see it the most. Logan hadn't been upstairs in some time, evident in the dust and the fact that he had clearly been living in the living room; she hoped it hadn't been like this since the moment she'd disappeared. He needed to do it as well. He needed to heal. There was nothing to fear anymore. She was with him. They were together. They could do it together.
"Logan," she called out softly.
His back straightened but he didn't move otherwise.
"Logan," she spoke tenderly again. "Come on."
She moved her arm out from her until her hand waited patiently outstretched for him to take. He turned and glanced at her and she smiled at him despite the confliction on his face and still found him as every bit as beautiful as she always had. With out speaking he grasped her hand and followed her up the stairs. His footsteps no longer dragged behind her as he became more assured with each step, her back pressing against him as they went, their bodies constantly touching.
Once they reached the top of the stairs, the darkness was explained by the fact that all the blinds and drapes were drawn, blocking out the sun. The upstairs was smaller then the downstairs, the hallway more narrow. All the doors were shut, there were a total of three. The one at the far end she knew was an extra room that in the past had housed the tv and electronics that they'd hardly ever used, except to keep in contact, keep up to date on the world but also for their hockey nights and movie nights that they had always kept up.
The door right in front of her lead to the bathroom, which had actually been one of the most well furnished rooms. They'd spent a lot of time making it just perfect. She pushed the door open and coughed against the dust; already moving towards the blinds which she drew back only a bit. Sunlight streamed across the room and she felt her emotions ride her full force.
A large mirror covered almost one whole wall where two sinks sat in a forest green counter top. The large mirror had served several purposes, for one she knew they had developed a fetish for doing it in front of the large mirror so they could watch themselves. Logan moved up beside her as though he sensed her memories and let his hands wondered her back and shoulders.
There was a shower stall directly across from the mirror and she blushed at the memories, knowing there was a built in ledge in the shower that wasn't exactly used to hold soap and shampoos. The bathroom was large enough that there was also an above averaged sized tub that took up the other side of the room. She crossed the room and let her hand smooth itself against the cool porcelain. The tub had been a guilty pleasure of hers; something Logan hadn't been able to deny her. She'd been the one to talk him into joint baths and he had developed a sudden fetish of his own, the two of them soaking in the bath together. They’d had plenty of time for it when they had gotten married, alone up here before the reality of the war. It was designed so that it could even turn into a whirlpool if they wanted.
Lifting her hand up she ignored the dust, knowing it was no surprise the tub hadn't been used in some time. Logan's nightmares of being trapped underwater surrounded by green light as needles pierced his skin had always affected how he felt about water. He only ever went in if she was with him.
She stared at the tub fondly, let her hand wander around Logan's waist, and moved towards the door. She was mindful of how quiet Logan was and kept their pace measured as they headed for the last door. She could feel him tense beside her. She opened the last door and found she had to nudge her shoulder against the wood. The door must have been shut so forcefully the last time its shape had changed and had become wedged in. With a small grunt, she got the door open and she stepped inside.
She had to close her eyes at the scents that assaulted her. The room was musty but she could make out her and Logan's scents clearly in the room. The room was like a museum, nothing seemed to be touched. Dust settled everywhere. The bedroom was just a bit smaller then the bathroom. There was a large closet on one side where she could see her old clothes peeking through the half-opened door. A magnificent antique dresser was on the other side with a vanity like mirror that was cracked as though a fist had smashed against it. The dresser was littered in her things mostly, a brush, some hair products, make - up and other things. There was picture of her and Logan on their wedding day in a silver frame sitting surprisingly neatly on the end of the dresser. She remembered Scott and Jean had given them the antique frame for an anniversary with the picture inside. Logan had called Scott a pansy but he'd been the one to put it on the dresser.
The queen-sized bed took up the rest of the space. She remembered at the time when they had gotten it, thinking it was a bit extravagant and she thought there was no point knowing every night they slept closely beside each other, her body tucked against Logan's with his arms around her. She smiled remembering the exact look Logan had given her saying 'Darlin' just believe me on this, you're gunna love the extra space for our additional activities', his eyebrow raised up suggestively.
The one thing that struck her as odd was the fact that the bed was stripped bare and yet everything else had stayed the same. She wondered if perhaps the sheets were the same one's she'd seen downstairs, the well used sheets that Logan was using to sleep with on the couch and maybe even the floor.
Her happy trip down memory lane took a sharp turn when she noted the large stain on the mattress. It was a deep brown colour now but she knew that at first it had been deep red. She gasped and took a step back as the memory shook her. The image came quickly and easily but it wasn't the process that had her shaken it was the memory itself.
Sheets covered the bed and the night air cooled around them as she was curled up on her side with Logan spooning her. His arms weren't around her but he was whispering comfortingly in her ear. She looked nervous and her eyes were wild and alert. It was after the incident when she had attacked Scott and Jean. In reality, she knew it was some time after that because she was no longer restrained. Logan was trying to comfort her.
Slowly, his hand slid down her arm and she allowed it. Then his lips caressed her ear and then moved down the side of her neck. Tentatively, his hand moved down her hips and lower until his hand disappeared under the sheet. She made a small mewling noise, like an animal.
"That's it baby," he whispered. "Just let it go. I got you."
He was hard against her backside and she could feel a growl he was trying to keep hidden vibrate between them and his hips bucked against her. She snarled at him and he stopped, his body freezing like a deer under a predator's gaze. She swiftly twisted out of his grip and landed on top of him with her knees on either side of his waist, pinning him to the bed. He still didn't move and he kept his eyes trained on hers. She could still feel that he was hard and he was controlling himself.
She growled and leaned forward as she bit his collarbone. His back arched up off the bed. She wanted control. She needed to have control of the situation. To make her own decisions, her own choices. It had been a long time since she'd been able to do what she wanted, to be able to feel anything other than what she had had been programmed to feel.
She pressed her body against his and he began to respond but always letting her have the control. She worked her mouth along his chest and up his neck where she sniffed along his skin, scenting him, assuring herself he was her mate. Her hands kneaded the muscles in his arms. Her fingernails were digging into his skin and she forced his limbs as deep as she could into the mattress, asserting her position and he grunted in recognition.
Her mouth found his and he opened it eagerly. The kiss lacked any of their usual finesse, it was harsh and demanding as though, she was feeding off him. As they kissed his one hand moved slowly towards her ass and he gently squeezed it. She moaned against his mouth in response and bit his lip. Then using his hand on her ass, he pushed her closer so the tip of his erection rubbed against her entrance. She hissed at him and he pulled his hand back. She growled low at him as she moved her mouth along his neck, her teeth settling just above his pulse. She paused waiting to see what he would do and when he submitted she pulled her teeth back and licked the skin almost affectionately.
She settled on him and groaned at the feel of him inside of her. She arched her back as they began to move and when he reached up so he could cradle her body against his, she didn't object. She pressed down and he eagerly moved his hips up. Each of their grunts mingled with each other's. His lips hovered above her breasts and she made another animal like sound in her throat as he licked the skin.
Her hands grasped his shoulders and she could feel the excitement build until it was about to boil over. She came with a scream that muffled out all other sound and when she glanced down at Logan, she found him pinned to the bed in another way. A strange grimace on his face.
Her head quirked to the side. Blood poured down his shoulders. Her bone claws were protruding from her knuckles and were buried deep in Logan's shoulders, pinning him. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward and sniffed the blood. Logan gasped at the sudden movement and she pulled back a bit. She felt confusion for a moment and then there must have been a coldness, a look in her eyes because Logan suddenly looked at her in fear and in desperation. She started to think of him as her target; she was supposed to follow her programming.
"Marie," he gasped harshly.
She shook her head at the thoughts that weren't meant to be hers and her eyes widened in shock. A strangled sob escaped her as she released her claws and stumbled off the bed. She pushed herself into the farthest corner and wrapped her arms around her knees as she started to shake.
"No, no, no," she whispered over and over.
Logan stood off the bed with his wounds already healed and a look of understanding passing over his face.
"Marie," he called. "It's alright darlin'. I'm okay."
"But I'm not," she whispered.
He moved forward and she screamed.
Her eyes came back and focused on the dusty room before her and she jumped back at the sudden memory. She bolted past Logan and headed for the bathroom, where she proceeded to throw up.
Logan was calling after her and she quickly rinsed her mouth out and splashed water on her face despite her shaking hands. Breathing deeply she leaned against the cool surface of the mirror and closed her eyes.
She'd been a monster. How could he of even loved her. Trusted her. Wanted her until this day.
She must have been speaking out loud because Logan's voice spilled into the room.
"Because," he started quietly. "You've always trusted every part of me, all of me in any given moment. The only person whose never looked at me like a thing to be used, an animal to fear. Because I know how it feels, but it was never out of pity darlin'. Because I love you, all of you. I wanted to be with you, to help you. I needed you. I still do."
"God," she breathed, her breath causing the mirror to fog. She refused to look up and met his gaze. "Tell me that never happened again," she demanded. She hoped the answer was no because somehow he knew exactly what she was thinking about, which had to mean there weren't many bad experiences to choose from.
"No," he answered. "You didn't let me touch you for some time. Or more to the point you wouldn't let yourself touch me." His voice was getting closer.
His hand touched her shoulder. "Really, Marie, it turned out to be a bit of a good thing."
"How the fuck is me cutting you up like that during sex a good thing!" she screamed at him and pushed herself towards the mirror and away from him.
His hands grasped her arms gently but then he suddenly pulled her back until she was pressed up against him, their eyes locking in the mirror. Her face tear stained and his eyes becoming more alive as he let the confliction dissolve.
"You're right," he hissed in her ear deeply. "It was rougher then we usually get," he emphasized with a jerk of his hips against her backside. "And you do tend to like it rough, darlin'."
Her eyes met his in the glass. "Let go of me, Logan," she fumed at his sudden change in attitude.
He released her but didn't move away and she didn't move forward, their bodies still pressed together.
"I'm not goin' to coddle you, Marie, not after all these years," he spoke low his voice becoming husky as he buried his nose in her hair. "You told me to stop treating you like your breakable. You wanted the truth. You wanted me to face this as well."
The side of his face turned towards the mirror and his eyes flickered heatedly at her. "Well, which is it Marie, you want what you will always be able to have and the baggage that comes with us, with me, with the truth, or do you want to run back to Summer's, to Nathan's cold bed and play house?"
He turned his head again so his lips hovered over her ear. His other hand was running down her back and towards her ribs and moving to cup her hip.
"Well, which is it baby?" he purred almost teasing her.
She wanted to be angry with him, she really did but she couldn't. His sudden aggressive like behaviour was in reality true to form to who he was and she was always one of the only people he knew it was safe to be around when he got down and dirty. He wasn't aggressive in the sense that he would ever hurt her, but in that, he did it to tease her, to get her to come out and play with him, let the Rogue out for his Wolverine. He was sick of pretending he was fine, of walking this unknown path with her and he wanted answers. He wanted to move on and suddenly she was holding back, she wasn't letting him.
"You're not like him," he whispered, both of his hands settled on her hips. "They can't understand our natures. We're not monsters and we're not wrong, we're not nothing. We're just different, we know how the world works, how cruel it can be, how fucking unŽfair it is. You goin' let them win, baby, let those bastards who took you, make you ashamed of who you are. You're a good person. Nathan is alive simply because of you and I've never held it against him. He is a symbol of the sacrifices you are always willing to make, the choices you make for the good for others and never yourself. Never yourself, baby. Don't let them and that world we were once caught in drag you back down and drown you in their fear."
He was almost begging her now.
"After...after that night there was more of you in your eyes then ever before. It had woken you up. You fought the instincts they instilled in you and the trauma of it brought you back, made you more real to yourself. You hated what you had done and you fought it all. You fought to have yourself back, to have your life back. To be who you wanted to be. To be Marie and not some fucking number. You came back to me, darlin'. You made it so you were no longer afraid."
He kissed her neck sweetly and she watched him intently in the mirror, the way his hands curled around her body possessively but gently, always giving her the space to move if she wanted. He recognized her as his equal.
"You have a right to be angry," he whispered clearly. "A right to rage against the world for what you've been through, but not to be afraid. No longer afraid."
He started to pay more attention to her neck with his lips. She felt her mind clear as her body urged her to respond. It was amusing that she suddenly felt clear headed under his attentions when usually she melted under his touch, but in a way, he had always given her sound of mind. She glanced at her knuckles and faced the fact that bone claws lay beneath them. She could pretend they weren't there, but she could feel them and she realized she had a responsibility in accepting them, in learning control. It took her a second to realize she had control, that she may have claws but she wasn't a wild animal without thought, without conscience.
The scientists hadn't given her the claws, Logan had. They were a part of him and he lived with them and so could she. To refuse them would mean that in someway she would be refusing a part of Logan. His powers had saved her life, no matter the argument. She was with him simply because of his gift and she would be with him for a long time because of it, there was nothing more concrete.
Logan was rubbing himself against her and she quirked a sensual smile in the mirror. Her eyes becoming focused as she enjoyed watching his attentions to her in the full length mirror. They stood just past the sinks where the mirror continued towards the floor and the shower stall was somewhere behind them.
His teeth grazed her skin lightly at the same time his hands rubbed her body and she moaned.
"Logan," she murmured.
"Yes," he growled suggestively against her skin.
"Make love to me."
For a second his lips stopped what they were doing but his hands continued to wander her body and she could feel the bulge in his jeans press more deeply against her. His eyes glanced at her in the mirror, gleaming with an anticipation and almost relief. Her gaze was confident and determined as her eyes called to him. A wolf- like grin graced his face and he gently reached up and tilted her head towards him so they could kiss.
The minute their lips met, she realized she was a fool for even doubting them together. The kiss was smooth and sensual at first and then more heated. Her hand reached behind her and rubbed his hard stomach. With desire coursing through her veins she tried desperately to yank his top out of his jeans. He chuckled against her lips.
With their lips still kissing and one hand massaging her left breast, he used his other to reach down and un-do his belt. He yanked it and pulled it out never missing a beat. She growled in frustration at his tactics and turned around despite his grip, she knew he could still watch her in the mirror. However, what she wanted was something else. She pulled his shirt up and let him lift it over his head as she immediately latched her mouth against the muscles of his chest.
He was no longer laughing as she licked her way along his chest, allowing her mouth to settle against one nipple. He groaned as she licked, nipped and kissed her way along his skin. She also groaned in satisfaction, knowing she'd wanted to do it since the moment she'd seen him without his shirt on. She could work his chest and stomach all day.
"Darlin' that feels fuckin' glorious but I have a problem," he groaned.
She didn't pull back from his chest but instead gazed up at him. "What?"
"You've got too many clothes on."
She quirked an eyebrow at him clearly annoyed with the interruption. "Well, what are you going to do about it?"
He growled low as he suddenly yanked her up and latched his mouth onto hers again. His hands ripped her shirt open and she was sure she could vaguely hear buttons scattering on the tile floor but she didn't care. Once her shirt was gone she felt the cool touch of metal on her back as one claw slid out and snapped her bra in half. His lips moved down her chin, along her neck, her collarbone and finally he settled on her breasts as he lavished them with attention.
She arched her head back in satisfaction, her fingers roaming through his hair and he purred in return. His lips moved down her stomach affectionately. He had her pants unŽdone and down before she'd even realized and somewhere in her desire filled haze she helped him by stepping out of them.
He fingered the outline of her underwear and then quickly ripped them off. He purred deeply and the rumble echoed within the room. He kissed his way up her inner thigh, rubbed his cheek against the skin, and then did the same to the other one as he covered her in his scent. Suddenly, his tongue snapped out and he licked her. She gasped loudly as her back arched.
"Logan!"
"Mmmmhmm," he purred as he continued.
He kept dragging it out teasingly and before she could complain, he was standing up behind her and he was pulling them both straight up in front of the mirror. He smirked at her in their reflection but his eyes were filled with love as he entered her from behind. She gasped in pleasure and never let her eyes travel away from his as they both watched each other in the mirror. His hands were positioned strongly on her hips.
Watching them together, watching the way he looked, so utterly powerful, beautiful, sexual, primal and at peace she knew she'd been correct when she'd wanted the mirror to expand to the whole wall all those years ago; a good investment indeed.