She could feel him moving her, feel things happening about her. Words floated past, through her, she never registered them. Just listened idly and wondered at their meaning. For some reason all she could do is lay limp in his arms and gaze towards whatever was in front of them, be it the gleaming doors of the hangar, the brushed steel glinting in the 'x' shaped doorways, or the worried faces of her comrades. She laughed. It was the sensation of light vibration, shuddering her chest and pulling at her cheeks. It was something. It wasn't pain. Her friends were sad and some part of her reveled in it - and she hated it. She rejected it, but it was bound and clawed and taking her whole.
God help me... she breathed, God help me now.
She'd felt sad before, been rocked through every inch of her soul. Disgust and hatred for herself had seeped in and become too well known in her past but now... oh now. Now there was no reason. No reason for the heavy, suffocating yearning for death that swamped her. And the grief, oh the grief. The world shifted and moved as she felt herself being laid on a bed... a medical bed. Strong swift hands swaddled her up in the starched sheets, the smell of sweat and blood rich and sour around him. Strangely it merged with a faint whiff of cologne, and for a moment she spared a glance to him, to notice him instead of the war in her mind.
Oh God he was beautiful.
"Marie..."
His voice... rough and heavy with tenderness matched the soft and fearful glint in his hazel orbs. He was scared.
"Marie dammit, talk to me."
She gave a huff, eyes sliding to the ceiling, "Hh... I don't -want to speak."
She could sense suddenly, it was overwhelming. Every glance to Logan was more than his face, more than his looks. A splash of emotion totally alien yet beautifully familiar would rush through her mind, as if more was there and she'd been so blind. Maybe she had been - was this how Jean felt? How she lived and saw? Or Xavier?
Perhaps that's why he was so wise. She let her mind drift to him, settling on calm blue eyes. Older eyes, steely and strong, but with that blue, that sea-like blue that was soft and gentle and loving. A soft sob fell from her as she thought of him wheeling down here... he knew and he'd be disappointed.
For the first time she noticed that Logan had laid his head on her shoulder, face pressed against the leather there, his hand gripping hers tightly. His eyes flashed up to meet hers.
"What's wrong?"
She sniffled. "People love me."
He frowned with some confusion. "Huh?"
"H-I'm," she shook her head, "I'm only gonna disappoin' 'em. Cause Ah'm bad! I'm BAD!"
"Bullshit," he breathed, leather-clad hand caressing her cheek, "Marie you-" He closed his eyes, still holding her hand and he met her lost gaze. She'd drifted off again, head tilted elsewhere. He pulled her gaze back with a tuck of his hand at her jaw. "Marie - you saved me."
"Ya didn't need savin'," she sobbed, looking away, "You'w're just fine."
"I was lost," he persisted, smoothing her hair, "You stopped me runnin'."
She felt her gaze pulled back to him, and the crash of emotion that spilled through her from his eyes was the closest thing to comfort she'd felt in hours. It was crazy and wild and possessive and fearful, but it was all blissfully Logan, and anything of him was safe right now. He kept the angry volatile flash of her mind at bay. She tilted her head, peering at him with child-like wonder.
His lips were quivering, his eyes red. Yes, he was scared. And sad.
"I'm not good for you," she said, speaking light, barely feeling anything at all, the crash of everything inside taking out all sense within her, "You worry too much."
His brows twitched down and he nodded, "Yeah, I worry about ya, Kid."
She closed her eyes and sighed, her face twisting as another wash of sobs took her. She didn't know why she sobbed; she just needed to. There was anger and rage inside of her, loathing and distress and all it wanted to do was smash through her mind and pull her down into nothingness. If it hadn't been for the shifting of Logan's head to the nape of her neck, his hand clutching hers at her chest, she'd not have realised he had been speaking to her.
"...ver's going on in there you hang on. Hang onto me if you have to - I don't mind. Just don't be hidin' in there."
"Not hiding," she croaked through sob-swollen vocal chords, "Fighting."
He held her tighter, sighing long. "Lemme fight with ya."
She let her cheek rest against the ruffle of his hair, "Not your fight, sugah."
It was all very surreal; the scene seemed too strange. Her thoughts swirled in a battling cacophony as a sudden weariness overwhelmed her. Logan was there, at her side. For a brief moment, she felt safe, and that brief moment was one her body seized upon to rally against her and pull her down into a fitful sleep.
He laid there, his arms around her, eyes locked on her face as she slid asleep.
This was all so wrong. Worry racked him, tightening his stomach to knots. Something wasn't right with Marie, he knew, but in her flashing eyes was a wash of fear he didn't know. He wanted to know - he wanted to squash the fear and promise her that she'd be okay, that she didn't need to fear anything. He wanted her to get up and grin brightly and wag her legs in the air whilst chewing on the end of a pencil and writing tender Latin poetry on his bed; Not lay there looking as if her limbs were lead. He barely noticed the presence of Jean Grey next to the bed. Her voice reached out to him like a soft nudging.
"It's good she's finally asleep."
Logan nodded slightly, sitting up.
"What happened out there Logan? I want details."
He didn't want to think about what happened out there. Remembering was pure torture on him. He pressed his finger to his lips, carefully backing away from Rogue so not to wake her. Finally at his feet, he pressed his lips to her hair.
He joined Jean as she strolled from the small observation room, closing the door quietly behind her as Logan walked through.
"Well?"
Logan took the moment to lean against the wall, letting out a long sigh.
"It was a fucking nightmare, Jean." He closed his eyes a moment, then shook his head. "I dunno. We got out there, and this bitch comes floatin' down from on high and starts kicking the shit out of us."
"And Marie tried to stop her?"
"Naw," Logan shook his head again stared at her long, "I did."
Jean nodded.
"She was strong man, fucking strong. I'm talking Superman bending steel strong, ya know?"
"I see."
"Yeah," Logan grunted, "She made short work of me."
"So she moved on to Rogue?"
Logan sank down the wall and sat on a long bench against it.
"Yeah, must have. Rogue had touched her, to stop her from killing me. She stopped her but I slipped out cold like a right pansy."
The lady doctor gave him a firm glare, "I'm sure you did what you could Logan."
He shrugged, "Wasn't enough was it? I couldn't even walk, for fuck's sake. She must've broken one of my legs. She was strangling Rogue, and Rogue was touching her - and I couldn't even fucking move."
"That coincides with the bruising on her neck and face," Jean said, running the tips of her fingers over her chin. "You killed the woman then?"
"Her name was Binary, apparently," Logan said, a rush of loathing bursting inside of him at the mention of her name, "And I stuck my claws in her yeah. But she didn't look in very good shape, Jean. I think Rogue had just about finished her off."
He did not miss the dread that flickered in Jean's eyes.
"You think that's bad?"
She sighed and shrugged, "I don't know Logan. Who knows what effects nearly taking someone's life with this power could have."
She was trying to get to something, he didn't like her beating about the bush. He jutted out a bottom lip with a rumple of his brow.
"What're you sayin'?"
Jean gave a light flutter of her eyes, shrugging again, "This mental disruption - it could be permanent, it could be over tomorrow night."
He grit his teeth, steel determination growing in him, "Well let's be workin' for tomorrow night, huh? She can't miss too much school cause of this shit."
Jean looked a little exasperated, and he didn't want her to. Cause if she was exasperated, that meant something was wrong, specifically with Marie, and something wrong and Marie were bad, and he didn't want to accept that there even COULD be anything wrong with her that couldn't be fixed up. The touching thing was bad enough. The look on the doctor fell to a dark one, and Logan's stomach twisted tighter.
"Logan, I'm afraid Rogue could be in some form of counseling because of this event for some time yet."
He gave her a wide-eyed glare, "Well - for how long?!"
"I don't know yet," Jean said gently, "I still have to assess her mental state."
"What's to fucking assess?" he growled, anger rising, "She's upset damnit! She nearly killed someone!"
Jean just closed her eyes as Logan's temper let loose, relief washing over her features as the door to the infirmary opened. Cyclops stuck his head around the door, worry in his brow.
"Everything okay here?"
Jean nodded silently, "Yeah. Just discussing Marie's condition."
He nodded, moving out into the main infirmary, Logan and Jean following as he spoke.
"What's the news then?"
"I've been observing her for the past half hour," Jean said, "Her thoughts are muddled, her perception of her own persona is shaky at best. She's feeling incredible guilt over things she hasn't even done, and uh..."
"Killin' that bitch," rumbled Logan.
Scott's light expression faded, "I thought you did that."
"No, he just - uh - helped her along," Jean said, leaning against a workbench that lined the walls of the infirmary.
"Why didn't anybody tell me about this?" the Leader said, looking to Jean and Logan. Logan just grunted, shaking his head.
"We just did."
Scott nodded and clenched his teeth. "Right. So - she's mentally unstable?"
Logan clenched his teeth, "No, she's UPSET!"
Jean sighed, gripping Logan's arm.
"Logan, she's more than upset. She's going through deep mental trauma. I don't know what else to do but to treat this as a Multiple Personality disorder and try to calm her down with sedatives."
"Sedatives?!"
Logan's shout rang off the wall and both Jean and Scott flinched. Logan glared back at the observation room and sighed, his voice lowering to a hiss.
"Listen, Jean, I don't know how many people you killed in your life, but doin' it for the first time is kind of a mind-fuck, ya know? So she's shaken - you'd be too after your first!"
Jean rolled her eyes a little, "Logan, this more than that-"
"NO!" Logan said, pointing at her, "No fucking sedatives. She can deal with this. She said so herself - she's gotta fight it."
Jean blinked, her lashes wavering softly, "And what if she loses?"
"I think it's her right to take that chance," he said gruffly, "Don't you?"
Scott shook his head, "What if Xavier could help her sort it out?"
Logan's face drew calm. "What do you mean?"
"Well," said Scott, "Xavier probed my mind when I first got to this school, to see if there was any way to control my powers. I'm just thinking, perhaps he can help her - sort out all the different thoughts somehow or-"
"No," Logan shook his head, "No see - then Xavier would have put a nice patch over the problem and it's still not solved. She needs to deal with this. Herself!"
Jean's gaze became a glare, dark eyes stern. "You're not her legal guardian, Logan."
"Nope," he said, shaking his head, "But you wanna stick anything in her or fuck with her brain - ya gotta get past me!"
At that he swung around, stalking back into the infirmary observation room.
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