James Howlett.
I rolled the name around my head, feeling absolutely nothing for a short moment – which was a considerably brighter perspective than hate and disgust, but still nowhere near bearable.
My claws hadn't made me an animal, I had always been one on the inside and that didn't change. It seemed insane now, to believe that I had ever been anywhere near honorable, with morals and shit.
It was easier to see myself as some kind of victim, to hate others for turning me into a monster. True, I had never been too fond of myself either, but there had been hope.
Sure, I could go out and kill Stryker for what he had done to me, because the man wasn't exactly selflessness on legs one way or another, I could blame him as much as I blamed myself for tricking me into agreeing to the procedure. But it wouldn't change anything and certainly wouldn't make me much better of a man.
The worst thing to me was something that seemed insignificant at first, because Victor knew very little about the time: my years with Kayla. I had actually been a normal person for a while.
Apparently I'd had enough of the shit that Stryker and the others were pulling and decided to give normal a try. And yes, I could imagine that that would have made me very happy. It proved to me that it didn't always have to be violence or one adrenaline rush after another to satisfy me. But then they had taken it away again, pressed the right buttons to make me snap and turn me back into the fighting machine. It had happened once and it could happen again.
It already was happening again. Did killing people become less of a sin because I was on the “right side” now?
Would the satisfaction of tearing Victor's head off belong to the part of me that thirsted for revenge and needed to spill blood or would it be the reaction of some other part that actually cared about right and wrong?
To be honest, I really doubted the latter.
I tried to tell myself that, whatever the consequences, knowing about my life was still better than not knowing, even if it hurt at first. It hurt like hell, and not because I actually gave a shit about myself, but because of her.
Sweet little Marie, who hadn't turned away from me even after knowing everything; who had taken me into her arms and dragged hundreds of pounds of adamantium up the stairs and back into bed while I had been too dazed to think straight. Who had, even while she was telling me about the darkest details my life, tried to make me sound nobler than we both knew I was.
I remembered my very thoughts when I had found her in the train and how I had wanted to take some weight off her shoulders – and here I was, putting a few additional tons on it. It didn't seem fair.
My mind wandered to the girlfriend I'd had years ago...Kayla...I had failed at protecting her and she had died...of course there was the whole betrayal part as well, I noted bitterly. But in the end, she had died because I hadn't been able to take care of her properly during a fight; so it was my fault.
Now would really have been the time to pack my bags and leave, get out of Marie's life while I still could and spare her all the trouble she would have to go through because of me...the trouble she already was going through...
But I couldn't, of course I couldn't.
She was the one holding me this time, cradling my head in her arms and playing with my hair the way I usually did with hers. She was wearing gloves again, much to my dismay. Not because I didn't like it – in fact I thought they were sort of pretty on her – but because I didn't want her to feel caged in or something. But knowing that wearing them was merely an option and not mandatory around me, I felt like she didn't mind them so much.
Marie's fingers trailed down my face, along my jaw, then tracing the lines of my lips. We hadn't spoken since we had returned from the gardens, because neither of us knew what to say. But she did know exactly how to comfort me in the right ways with her touches and subtle looks.
She slid down and settled into a more comfortable position, our arms still tightly around each other. I needed her so much that it almost scared me, I realized suddenly.
Everyone would always assume that she was the one who depended on me – irresponsible as I might be – to protect her and save her, but that was only the physical part. Emotionally, she was the stronger, wiser one, who was there to catch my falls. And since I fell a lot...
Of course I needed her.
I clung to Marie's body with desperate strength, only slightly pulling my face back when she tried to kiss me. She really didn't need any of the shit that had been going on in my head today. She looked confused for a moment, but then understood and nodded disappointedly.
I couldn't leave her like this, not only for her sake, but also for mine; I needed her, more of her. She was my comfort, distraction, my angel; my home.
There were a million ways around her mutations, all we had to do was find something...oh well, the t-shirt would have to do. I yanked at the collar of my shirt, pulling it up until the lower half of my face was covered.
I caught a glimpse of her expectant smile before our lips met through the thin cotton, trying to get used to the foreign feeling and unpleasant taste of the fabric.
“Mhm no,” she muttered, breaking the kiss and pulling the most adorable face.
“Yeah: No,” I agreed with a small chuckle, caressing her bottom lip with my gloved fingers.
“It's okay, I can take it. And I'll try that control thing, too.”
Before I could protest, her lips touched mine again, tentatively, searchingly. There was a slow pull from her skin and maybe it was just my imagination, but it felt a little weaker than usually. She seemed to register the change too and took the opportunity to push my lips apart and determinedly plunge her tongue into my mouth. Feeling lightheaded from the draining sensation, I met her tender caress slowly, but with just as much enthusiasm.
She withdrew before the pain started settling in and took my face in both of her tiny hands, looking at me intently. I was half-expecting her to say something about what she had seen in my thoughts and the way my past lay on my conscience now, almost dreading the conversation. I really wasn't one to talk things out, especially difficult topics like this particular one.
But she just watched my face for a moment, before bringing her lips to mine again, keeping a tiny distance between them this time.
Her warm breath tickled and enticed me as her soft lips traveled over my face, brushing against my skin here and there, leaving a trail of tingling spots. Her hands let go of my face and traveled down my shoulders, coming to a rest on my upper arms as she pushed herself up, her face hovering above me.
She finished her exploration by my left ear, softly blowing on it while pressing her cheek against mine with the protection of my hair between us, and sending a shiver through my body.
“Mhhmm Marie,” I hummed, a little too pleased with the way that her face had dipped lower and that I now felt her breath against the side of my neck. Her tongue darted out and timidly gave my skin a small lick, then another.
Images were flashing through my mind and they had nothing to do with scientists or the World Wars anymore.
I was thinking about how easy it would be to grab her and roll us over, pin her beneath me, kiss her for all she was worth, press my body into hers to show her just how much I needed her and find out to how much bare skin on her part we could get until I'd pass out.
Shit. She hadn't even done anything much.
I shook my head and decided to attribute it to my current unstable mental state, ever so gently pushing her off me.
“What's wrong?” she muttered and her innocent, wide-eyed confused stare made an appearance.
“Nothin'. Just...we should get some sleep,” I argued lamely, seeing a hint of hurt creep onto her face as she fully rolled off me and lay down flat on her back.
“Hey, listen, darling...it's just that your comfort and distraction thing worked a little too well. And I don't want us to go too fast, especially not on a night like this, okay? I don't wanna end up pushing you into anything you're not ready for...coz I can get quite uh....demanding once you got me started,” I added with a small smile that she – thank goodness – returned. I might even have seen a tiny flash of a mischievous grin of her face, but blamed that on an overactive imagination too.
“I trust you,” Marie replied sincerely. “You won't hurt me.”
She had more faith in me than I could bear and it almost hurt to hear the evidence of it. How was she still capable of being so sweet and gentle with me and expecting nothing but the same from me after she had seen who I really was?
“Marie, I...”
I wanted to say something to her that I couldn't put in words, thank her for being there for me and tell her how important she was to me, how much it all meant.
While I still struggled for words, the look in her eyes told me I didn't need to tell her anything.
“I know,” she simply said. “I know.”
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Chapter End Notes:
big hugs to my reviewers, especially askita and Corinne for writing me sooo many sweet comments :)