Logan struggled toward consciousness, first becoming aware of a wrenching, full-body ache, and then a relentless pounding in his head. He forced his eyes open, squinting into the bright lights with a growl.
The med bay. Fuck, they knew he hated this place. What the hell was he doing here?
He tensed his muscles against the ache, trying to sit up.
“Easy, friend.” A furry paw landed on his shoulder, gently restraining him. “You may sit up, but do it slowly.”
He turned his head, trying to swat the paw away but finding his limbs strangely heavy. His voice was a dry rasp when he spoke. “Goddammit, Hank, what the hell did you do to me?”
Hank chuckled. “Ever the sparkling personality, my friend. But it was not I who did this to you.” The paw shifted to Logan’s back, helping him upright. The room heaved and whirled for a nauseating minute, and Logan breathed deep through his nose. Jesus, he felt like he’d been run over by a truck. And he should know, it wouldn’t have been the first time.
He managed to get a hand up, pulling electrodes off his chest, the shrill whine of the alarm piercing his throbbing skull before Hank flipped a switch and silenced it. He ran a hand over his face. “What happened?”
Hank’s voice was grave now. “It was Magneto. Or rather, Magneto by way of that exceptional young woman -- Rogue.”
Logan’s eyes snapped open as he remembered with a rush. His futile struggling as he saw his own hand pressed hard to Marie’s face, the tears that had leaked from her eyes as the pain consumed him. And then afterwards...her eyes glinting golden, her feral growl, her injuries healing before his eyes. And not just his eyes, but Magneto’s very interested eyes as well. I think you may be coming with us after all.
“Where is she?” he growled, jumping to his feet.
“Careful!” Hank barked, as Logan swayed. Hank shoved a burly shoulder under Logan’s arm, bracing him. “It took three of us and Jean’s telekinesis to get your considerable bulk onto that exam table in the first place, do not make me do it a second time,” he snapped in irritation. “Rogue is...safe enough for now. I will take you to her as soon as you are able to walk, but your pig-headedness is helping no one right now.”
Logan clenched his jaw, drawing in another deep breath. Slowly he found his footing and was able to shift his weight from Hank’s shoulder.
“That’s better,” Hank said calmly.
“What do you mean she’s safe enough for now? I saw what happened. She...changed.”
Hank’s blue eyes assessed Logan through his round glasses. “You are correct about that. As you know, when Rogue touches someone, she takes on...aspects of their personality. Memories, and emotions, and the rest. What none of us realized -- not even Rogue, I suspect -- is that when Rogue touches a mutant, she has the ability to take on their mutation as well.”
“Meaning what? She heals now?”
A curt nod from Hank, but Logan read the hesitance in his eyes. “What else?”
“You must control your temper, my friend. We had no choice.”
The claws slipped free before he knew it. “Goddammit, Hank, no choice in what?” He heard the starkness in his own voice, the icy control that came just before the ungovernable rage.
Hank’s gaze flickered down to the claws, and then back up to Logan’s eyes. “Follow me. She is in containment.”
Hank was feral too -- there was nothing careless about the way he deliberately turned his back on Logan, leading the way down the hallway. Logan could not suppress the low rumble in his chest as he followed Hank to the containment room.
Hank opened the door to the observation room, allowing Logan to go first. “We are not certain how, but she found a way to resist Charles’s suggestion after a time. We could not reason with her, and so I thought it best to contain her here and leave her be until you recovered.”
Logan’s eyes were riveted on the girl. Marie, but somehow not -- her slender body moving with a fluid animalistic grace as she prowled the small room, snarling and growling.
“What...” As he watched the girl sniffed the air, her eyes dilating as the low rumble increased to a roar. She stalked to the one-way mirror, scrabbling at the corners, her nostrils flared, her teeth bared. Suddenly she seemed to give up, returning to the center of the room with a disgruntled growl after a final bang on the bulletproof glass.
“She knows you’re here,” Hank commented unnecessarily.
Logan realized his claws were still out, and forced them back into his arms. “Jesus Christ, Hank. It’s bad enough if she got a good hit of my memories, and all that shit...” He felt his gut wrench just thinking about what she might have to deal with. “But why the hell is she like this? I might be feral, but I’m not...out-of-control like this.”
Hank cleared his throat tactfully. “Not now...but at some point? Might you have been?”
Logan shut his eyes, swallowing hard. His memories of that time were fuzzy, but he knew that he had lived in the woods for countless months after escaping the facility. Shivering naked in the cold, finding shelter in nests of branches and leaves, eating his kills raw. I’m not some kind of animal, he had told Jean just last night. He had been fucking kidding himself.
“She has absorbed others in the past, Logan. Do you know how she dealt with those absorptions? She must have found some way to keep herself from being overwhelmed by the new personality. Charles tried to find her, but he said there is such chaos in her head right now that he could not locate Rogue.”
Logan shoved his emotions down, focusing on recalling what Marie had told him. “She had some way...she called it ‘boxing them up’. Keeping them quiet in her mind, unless she chose to access them. And when she did -- it hurt her. And sometimes got away from her for a while. You heard what she did to ‘Ro after she got the password?”
Hank nodded. “She is all animal instinct right now, Logan. Which means she will only respond to someone she trusts. I believe that is you, my friend.” He lifted a pair of leather gloves from the table, handing them to Logan who took them automatically. “She may be unaware of the danger her skin holds for others.”
“Exactly what the hell am I supposed I do in there?”
Hank’s eyes twinkled for a moment. “Animal instinct, Logan. Whatever feels right to you to calm her. I believe that she can gain control over this feral response, but right now she is in overdrive -- frightened and enraged at being caged. If you can soothe the fears of the feral, Rogue may be able to regain control.”
Logan buttoned up his shirt and tugged on the gloves, his body already tensing in readiness as he laid a hand on the door handle. “Don’t interfere. No matter what happens.”
Hank’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he nodded his assent. “If she takes you out, I’m not sure what I could do anyway,” he said with a hint of amusement. His voice sobered. “But be aware, Logan. By Charles’s account she only touched you for a few moments in the park, and you’ve been unconscious for more than two hours. More extended contact and she may overcome even your considerable healing. You are strong but not invulnerable, my friend.”
Logan nodded, clapping Hank on the shoulder briefly. A quick check through the observation window confirmed that Marie was still in the center of the room. “Lock it after me,” he instructed, and stepped into the room.
________________
Marie lifted her head, scenting the air. This place was frightening. Too cold, too bright. Harsh smells burned her nose and brought back flashes of things that made her blood run cold -- tanks and needles and burning, blinding pain. Now, though, she scented something different. Him.
She didn’t know who he was, only that he was hers. If she closed her eyes she could see him -- warm golden eyes and smooth golden skin, and a deep rich scent that made something inside her soften and pull. Hers, and he was here -- close by. They were keeping her from him, keeping her trapped in this shiny cage.
She followed his scent to a dark shape on the wall, her fingers scrabbling at the edges, trying to pull it free, trying to get to him. It was no use, she simply tore her fingernails, watching with confusion as the pain faded and new nails grew in to take their place.
She slammed her palm on the flat surface with an aggravated growl, returning to the center of the room. She didn’t know why she was here, but someone would come. Someone would come, and she would be ready. This cage would open, and she would get to him.
Her head swung around as she heard a sound. She tensed her muscles to spring, and then stopped in confusion.
It was Him. She froze, trying to make sense of it. Him, keeping her in this cage? It was not right, and her mind balked at the idea. She growled, confused and angry, and was startled when an answering growl rumbled up from his throat. She took an unconscious step backward, and then stopped, furious with herself for showing weakness.
She gathered her anger and snarled, taking a step forward, but his steady pace never faltered. He snarled back at her, advancing on her steadily, his posture brutal and confident, his scent deepening with musk and aggression. She heard an odd sound, and something emerged from his hands -- sharp shiny claws that made her uncertainty increase.
Her next growl came out more as a confused whine. She backed and circled, trying to pass around him, but he stepped confidently into her path. She ducked the other way and again he was there, ever closer, hemming her in.
She whimpered in outright fear now, her back coming up hard against the wall, and his stern expression softened. With another metallic hiss his claws retracted. His gloved hands reached for her. For some reason her fear spiked again -- she knew he would not hurt her, but she also knew somehow that he should not touch her. She whined again, cringing away, but a warning growl from him silenced her.
Suddenly his hands were on her. She held her breath, but nothing bad happened. She tried to pull away, but he growled again, his hands gripping her more firmly, his body pressed up hard against her. The warmth and scent of him overwhelmed her, and she whined again, this time pressing up against him.
His golden eyes burned into hers, and she dropped her gaze. A deep, satisfied rumble from him at her action, and she felt a tug. The cloth at her neck was pulled up, and she felt his teeth take hold in a gentle but firm bite. She tensed for another moment, and then something in her relaxed. Calm spread through her body as things fell into place, her uncertainty and confusion swept away in a pleasurable rush of submission.
Another satisfied rumble from him as he kept up the pressure for a moment longer and then his teeth released her neck. She felt his breath huffing warm through the damp fabric, and then soft swipes of his tongue licking away the hurt. She whimpered again, pressing against him, feeling with satisfaction his body growing hard and heavy against hers.
To her confusion he pulled away, but then his hands were there, running over her hair, her face, soothingly down her back. He pulled her down to sit in his lap, his hands still running over her. She reached for him but he growled in warning again, gathering her wrists into one large hand. She stilled, leaning against him, a little confused still about why he was stopping her but enjoying the feel of him against her nonetheless.
She let the feel and sound and smell of him surround her. The steady thump of his heart drowned out the strange buzzing of the lights while his deep warm scent filled her nose and chased away those awful burning smells that made the bad feelings come.
She felt the rest of her panic and fear subside, and as she relaxed into him she felt his body relax against hers as well. He ran a hand over her hair, and she nuzzled up into his shirt.
He made a noise with his mouth, a different kind of noise, and she didn’t like it. It made her feel bad again, all upset inside. She pushed her face into his chest, hoping he would stop. His hand wound through her hair, pulling her head back, his eyes on hers again even as she dropped her gaze. He made the noise again, and she shook her head, trying to avoid it.
He growled briefly, his face nudging close to hers without touching it. She looked at him, confused, searching for a sign of what he wanted from her. He made the noise again, and because it seemed important to him she listened carefully, her brow furrowed in concentration. One more time he said it, his eyes intent on hers, and like the last piece of a puzzle snapping into place, the funny sounds turned around in her head, forming into a word and then a meaning.
“Marie.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
My apologies again for what I thought would just be a few paragraphs and turned into a whole chapter. I'm not sure if it's good or bad that I promised to update every week. I definitely cranked this one out because of the deadline. Maybe I'll hate it when I read it over later -- I reserve the write to edit after the fact! My thanks to baybelletrist for helping guide the story in the direction I want it to go!
Chapter End Notes:
Please review! :-D
Also, speaking of Feral!Marie, where the hell is atmd? Come back, darlin', you are seriously missed!
Also, speaking of Feral!Marie, where the hell is atmd? Come back, darlin', you are seriously missed!