Logan paced outside Marie’s room, waiting for Xavier to emerge. He had been in there for two damn hours, kicking Logan out into the hall after the first five minutes so that Marie could concentrate on getting her head back straight without the distress his presence seemed to cause her.
Two damn hours since the Wolverine had felt Marie submit to him, gathering her into his lap and growling reflexively to keep her wandering hands in check. Two damn hours since the Wolverine, satisfied in having staked his claim, had stepped back and let Logan force Marie back to the surface. Two damn hours since her wild golden eyes had turned back to brown, the glow of trust and satisfaction turning to confusion and dismay. Two damn hours, and his mind was still reeling from what had happened in the containment room. Animal instinct, Hank had said. Well, that was the fuckin’ understatement of the century.
Twenty years ago Logan had gained control over the beast inside him, and since that time he had never allowed the Wolverine free rein outside of mortal combat -- a few moments in a haze of blood lust and brutality, and then Logan was back in charge. This afternoon, in the containment room, he had let the animal take over -- opening his senses fully, acting purely on instinct. And it had been a fuckin’ revelation.
Logan leaned up against the wall with a sigh, trying to ease the tension in his body. This afternoon the Wolverine had looked at Marie, and he hadn’t seen a kid. Not a little girl, or even a defenseless, damaged young woman. The Wolverine had looked at Marie and seen his mate, and she had been fucking fantastic.
Logan tried to concentrate on all the reasons that this was a bad idea, but there was no going back. All the defenses he had unconsciously thrown into place -- telling himself Marie was just a lead in finding Kitty and Jubilee, just another nuisance kid -- had been blown to hell the second the Wolverine had been allowed to surface, seeing and scenting his mate. With perfect, merciless clarity the Wolverine showed Logan what he had subconsciously been telling him for days now -- that Marie was his. She was his match, his equal -- and she belonged to him, absolutely and unequivocally.
Animal instinct, Hank had said with a twinkle in his eye, and Logan wondered now how much he had known. Because there was no doubt about it, it was pure animal instinct the way he had behaved toward Marie -- testing her strength and willingness, and reveling in her every response to him. Claiming her as his own, with his body and scent and teeth. Feeling her delicious submission, his blood singing through his veins as her body and mind readily acknowledged his possession of her.
Hell, the Wolverine had been one step away from taking her up against the wall -- kept in check only by the knowledge of her deadly skin and of Hank’s likely observation of them both. Satisfied enough by the assertion of his claim and her willing acceptance of it, the animal had subsided a bit, allowing Logan to regain control, but he was still too close to the surface. Even now, he was growling at the thought of Hank’s eyes on her, at the thought of Xavier being in that room with her while he was stuck out here in the hall.
As much as Logan had kept his private life separate from the mansion, he knew there was still talk about the way he behaved off duty. The other mansion residents chalked it up to the feral in him, but he knew the truth. The Wolverine might have a drive for sex, but the emotional detachment of the one-night-stands was entirely the choice of the man.
It was Logan who liked things uncomplicated -- an unspoken mutual agreement, a simple bodily function, and then an immediate goodbye. No emotion, no entanglements, no obligation or regret. That was what the man wanted. In sharp contradiction to what others thought, it was the animal in him that craved something more. Loyalty, not promiscuity. A total mutual fidelity to a chosen mate. The Wolverine had craved -- and been denied -- that connection.
To the Wolverine, everything was stunningly, blindingly simple. Marie was no girl, no kid. She was a woman, and a fuckin’ magnificent one at that, and she was made for him.
Unfortunately, for Logan things weren’t quite so simple. He had only known Marie for a few days, but he had no illusions that things would ever be simple with her. She was constantly catching him off-guard, never acting as he expected. Risking her life for him one moment, and then responding with suspicion to his slightest gesture of friendship the next. Seeming heartbreakingly fragile and innocent one moment, and irredeemably tough and jaded the next.
Someone like her -- so guarded and prickly, so uncertain in her reaction to even simple emotional connections -- she was nowhere near ready for the intense mutual possession the Wolverine had in mind. As hard of a time as Logan was having adjusting to the idea, he knew Marie would find it even more preposterous. Would have probably run like hell at the very idea of it, even before this afternoon.
Things were damn complicated enough already, and now she had absorbed him, and who knew what the aftermath of that would be? He had been torturing himself with the thought of it -- his dark nightmares, and destructive thoughts, and brutal emotions, inflicted on her. What she might know about him now, and how she might feel about him. Whether the next time he saw those beautiful brown eyes they might look on him with disgust, or fear. Dread and self-recrimination burned in his chest at the very thought of it.
What a fucking mess. The Wolverine, inexorably bound in dumb animal devotion to a girl who might not be able to stand the sight of him, and Logan forced to deal with the consequences.
______________
The muted hum of Xavier’s chair interrupted Logan’s dark thoughts. He straightened, searching the older man’s face for an indication of what had happened. Xavier looked pale and tired but pleased, and Logan felt some of the tension in his body ease.
“She is sleeping,” Xavier stated calmly. He placed a reassuring hand on Logan’s arm. “It was a great deal to absorb, but she is managing admirably. Come now.”
He continued down the hall, and Logan hesitated for only a moment before keeping pace with the whirring wheelchair.
“So what does that mean -- she has me boxed up now, like the others?”
“It may not be that simple, Logan. It will be a process for her. This experience -- it has been different for her than it has been for some of the other individuals she has touched.”
“Because I’m a mutant? Or because I’m feral?”
Xavier’s glance was keen and cryptic. “For a multitude of reasons.”
Logan growled in irritation. “Damn it, Chuck...”
Xavier’s mouth kicked up at the corner. “She called me that as well.”
He smiled further at what must have been Logan’s stunned expression before his expression sobered. “The next few days will be crucial, and I don’t believe any of us -- least of all Rogue -- know exactly what is going to happen. All we can do is support her to the best of our ability.”
“And the healing, and the...rest.” His fists clenched. “Is she still feral?”
“I’m not certain. I did not want to overwhelm her at present, but tomorrow Henry may be able to give us some guidance in that regard. To my knowledge, the only way to express a mutation is through activation of the mutant gene. For her to manifest mutations through touch -- it may indicate a malleability of her underlying genetic structure. It is quite remarkable and, as far as I know, unprecedented.”
“So we don’t have any goddamn idea what this is going to do to her?”
Xavier nodded curtly. “All we can do is wait.”
__________________
Logan’s heart raced, his pulse pounding in his head. He had been here a thousand times before -- the cold steel laboratory, the green liquid tank, the scientists clinking champagne flutes in triumph in the observation gallery...
Something was different this time, though. The scene was not hazed with green fluid and the thick glass walls of the submersion tank. Instead, Logan was watching from above, standing frozen in the gallery as the scientists murmured congratulations all around him.
He clenched his hands on the railing, his eyes drawn helplessly to the tank below. A slender figure writhed in pain, her delicate limbs flailing, churning the green water. Marie. He tried to move, to yell, but some unseen force held him in place -- his skeleton locked motionless even as he struggled, straining his muscles to free himself.
Her face was a rictus of pain, a wordless scream trapped in her throat as she jerked and twisted. A nimbus of auburn hair with a streak of platinum floated around her pale face. Suddenly her eyes snapped open, meeting his. He looked into the depths of her brown eyes, and the accusation he saw there curdled his blood.
He watched helplessly, his breath panting, his heart racing, straining futilely as her desperate movements slowed and then ceased. Her eyes drifted closed, her chest still now as she slowly settled down to the bottom of the tank with a metallic clank.
Logan’s head swiveled in an involuntary movement. Lehnsherr was lurking in the shadows of the gallery, his cold gray eyes regarding Logan thoughtfully as a slight smile twisted his mouth.
“Logan,” he said in Marie’s clear voice.
“Logan!”
__________
Logan jerked awake, springing to his feet with a roar of rage, the claws snicking out reflexively. The burst of pain as the metal split his skin jolted him to full awareness. Another fuckin’ nightmare. Jesus Christ.
He snicked the claws in, rubbing a trembling hand across his sweaty face. Suddenly he lifted his head, his nostrils flaring as his eyes focused on a dim figure standing just inside his doorway.
“Marie?”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hrrrmmm. Very curious to see what y'all think about this chapter. I'm insecure about it for several reasons, but the only way through is forward, and I'm trying to stick to my weekly update schedule despite my husband still being a big ol' laptop hog. If you're still with the story, please drop me a line and tell me what you think of this chapter, for better or worse.
Chapter End Notes:
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