Fuck all, if there was any place more miserable than Madripoor in May, Logan didn’t know of it. The heat was oppressive, waves of it hazing his vision as dust choked his lungs. He would almost welcome the unbearable dampness and mosquitos once the monsoon season arrived in a few weeks.
“Logan! Logan-bapa!”
Dammit.
“Scram,” Logan snarled at the kid who had started to dog his footsteps, tugging on his shirt.
With the usual insouciance of street kids, Jithu paid no attention.
“Logan-bapa! I found a frog! Come look!”
“Go find yer mother.”
“She’s coming!” Jithu exclaimed, to Logan’s surprise. “She wants to see you, Logan-bapa!”
Christ, that was the last thing he needed. Trying to explain to some nosy mama why in the hell this kid had chosen him to follow around every day. He was damned if he knew.
“Jithu!” a woman’s voice called out.
Logan stopped in his tracks with a sigh. He turned around. Jithu was already dragging a woman toward him by the hand, chattering excitedly. She was small and slender, her sloe-eyes dark, her sari draped effortlessly around her slim body. How she managed to look so cool in this heat was beyond him.
“Mama!” Jithu was saying. “Logan-bapa!”
“Listen, kid...”
It happened in a flash. The woman’s knife caught the sun for an instant and then it was burying itself solidly in his chest. He looked down at her through the cold burning pain, distantly thinking that the surprise on her face must have mirrored his. His eyes fell further, to where his claws were buried deep in her slender body, blood pooling around his knuckles. He had acted purely on instinct. He didn’t even remember releasing them.
They were frozen in a silent embrace for a moment, the grotesquely cheerful clamor of the marketplace surrounding them. Her spicy sandalwood scent clouded the air, tainted now by the salty smell of her blood.
Suddenly, Jithu started to scream. “Mama! Mama! Mama!”
Logan felt the bile rising up in his throat. Her eyes were already empty, her mouth hanging laxly open. Jesus fuck, she didn’t have to die. He would heal either way. He didn’t even know who had sent her.
He retracted his claws, catching the slim body easily, lowering it to the ground. The marketplace started to fall silent around him, as Jithu’s piercing screams rang in his ears.
“Kid...” He held out a hand toward him, but the kid was backing away. He looked at Logan as if he were a demon. And he was. He was.
“Jithu...” he ground out, but the kid was already running.
Several men had gathered nearer, murmuring agitatedly, but all of them backed away, frightened to meet Logan’s eyes as he looked around him.
He pulled the knife from his chest, dropping it to the ground, and walked away.
_________________________
Logan jerked awake, his body covered in a cold sweat, his breath rasping through his burning lungs, his claws already out.
He sprinted for the front door and yanked it open, his bare feet skidding on the icy porch. He hung onto the cold wood of the porch rail as if it were a lifeline as he violently vomited up the contents of his stomach over the edge of the porch, and then retched and gasped with dry heaves for endless minutes more.
Finally the dry heaves subsided, and he sagged to his knees, pulling panting breaths into his sour throat, pressing his forehead against the chilly wood of the lower rail. Finally he stood on shaky legs, gathering a handful of snow from the porch rail and swishing it in his mouth before spitting it out.
He turned back toward the front door. Marie was silhouetted in the doorway. She stepped back as he came in and closed the door, handing him the dishtowel she was holding and a shot glass.
He avoided her eyes as he wiped his mouth and then downed the shot.
“Thanks,” he muttered, as the shot of cognac burned down his throat, scorching away the bitterness and settling his stomach further.
He moved back towards the couch, but Marie’s soft hand on his arm halted him.
“Uh uh,” she said. “Upstairs. You’re frozen. Go get into the bed.”
“Marie...” he started to argue.
Her voice cut him off firmly. “I’m not askin’ this time, Logan. I’m tellin’.”
He rubbed a weary hand across his face. So far he had been able to avoid her after the nightmares, knowing he was snappish and out of sorts. One look at her determined face and he could tell that time had come to an end.
He sheepishly climbed the stairs. He slid between the warm covers, reluctantly admitting to himself that he felt a hell of a lot better as soon as he did. The warm cocoon of her bed surrounded him, the soft sweet smell of her filling his lungs. He felt even better when she crawled in after him, her slight weight settling firmly against his body.
He took a deep breath, feeling his heart rate slow, the panicky feeling starting to subside. Her hand was rubbing gently up and down his arm and he closed his eyes, trying to block out what he had remembered, focusing on her gentle touch.
“Will you tell me about it?” she finally asked.
He couldn’t help himself — his body tensed, his heart rate jumping again.
God, he couldn’t deny her anything, but this — he couldn’t let her know about things like this. The monster that he was.
She must have read his answer in the tension of his body against hers.
“It’s okay, sugar,” she said. “You don’t have to. I just...”
He felt her take in a deep breath and let it out, her hand never stopping its gentle stroking.
“I told you about when I went to find you, and the you in my head blocked me out? Kept me away from all your memories?”
He rumbled his acknowledgment. He had to admit, he had been relieved to hear that.
“I don’t mind it, sugar. That’s one of the things I hate most about my mutation...how intrusive it is. How it takes someone’s privacy and just rips it away, even though they don’t want it to, even though I don’t want it to.”
He squeezed her in sympathy. He knew how much it hurt her, carrying the memories and thoughts of others.
“If it just means that you keep things private, because you wanna, that’s more than fine with me. I want you to be able to have that. But if you don’t want me to know because you’re scared that it’s gonna change somethin’ — change how I feel about ya — Logan, you gotta know that that’s not true.”
He felt himself getting a little panicky again. She could say that, but she didn’t know. She couldn’t know what was inside him, or she’d never tolerate him being around like she did.
“Shhh, sugar. Relax. I’m not forcin’ ya to tell me anythin’.”
He forced himself to try to take deep breaths.
Eventually she spoke again, her voice slow and meditative, her drawl honey-thick. “When I first got ya in my head...down by the lake...there was a spot in your memories. A spot of brightness, and I didn’t hafta look hard to know that it was me. An’ it was good, because that’s why I wasn’t afraid of ya anymore — knew ya wouldn’t hurt me for anythin’. But at the same time, sometimes I wonder...how can you see me like that? All good, and sweet, and kind...”
He found his voice. “‘Cause you are, Marie. You’re all of that. More’n I ever imagined anyone could be. ‘Specially to someone like me.”
She gave him a quick squeeze in acknowledgement, but she seemed determined to get this out.
“But that’s what I mean. Maybe I am that stuff, ‘specially with you. But I’m no saint, Logan. I’ve got bad stuff too. An’ I’m not just talkin’ about how I can be petty, or mean, or hold a grudge like nobody’s business. I’ve done things I’m not proud of — on the road, but even after that. And those parts of me are still parts of me, and you gotta know about them too. About all of me.”
He growled at the implication. “I don’t give a fuck about that other stuff, Marie. I know you.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. You know the me that’s here at the cabin.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ve been an X-Man for a few years, Logan. On the junior team, and then rotatin’ on missions with the main team. I knew when I signed up that things can get dicey, and maybe it meant dyin’. But what I didn’t realize at first, was that it probably meant killin’ as well.”
He’d admit it, she had surprised him there.
“Usually it’s just fightin’,” she continued. “Leavin’ someone with a bloody nose and a few broken ribs, and assumin’ it’s okay. Xavier is really big on the whole Sanctity of Life thing, and so is Scott. We practice a lot, takin’ people down without havin’ to deliver the killin’ blow.” Her voice grew a little hoarse. “But one mission we were on...these Friends of Humanity bastards had taken a coupla teenagers. A mutant girl, and her human boyfriend. Wanted to make an example of ‘em, like a good ol’ Klan lynchin’. And when we showed up...”
She nuzzled her face into his chest, and he could feel the wetness on her cheeks. “We were fightin’, and we had it under control, and then one of them outta nowhere had a grenade. Jus’ tossed it at the kids, casual as can be — an’ no one seemed to see it ‘cept me.”
He ran a hand soothingly down her hair, encouraging her to finish.
“I coulda done a lot of things, I realized afterwards,” she said. “It only took me a split second to call on Magneto in my head. I coulda thrown that thing miles away. Hell, I probably coulda even got the pin back in it. But what I did — “ Her breath hitched a little. “What I did, was drop it back right in the middle of all of ‘em.”
“Baby...”
“Scott hustled us outta there before I could really see the carnage, but he couldn’t keep me from readin’ about it the next day. I killed three people that day, Logan. Guys with families, and regular jobs. Sure they were doin’ somethin’ awful, but half of ‘em probably didn’t even know what was gonna go down that night. Jus’ got carried away with the hysteria. I’ve seen how it can catch people — jus’ regular people, people who wouldn’t even think of doin’ somethin’ like that on their own...”
“Shhh...darlin’....it’s okay.”
“Scott tried to play it off like it was Magneto who made the decision. Like once I used his power he was the one callin’ the shots. An’ I was coward enough to let him go on thinkin’ so, ‘cause I didn’t want anyone to think less of me. But I think some of ‘em knew the truth — Xavier for sure, and maybe Jeannie. They knew that I did it on purpose. Jus’ me.”
He heard something in her voice he had never heard before — a cold, steely ruthlessness. “‘Cause as much as I knew later that they were jus’ regular people, at the time I wanted the fuckers to die. An’ so I killed ‘em.”
It only lasted for a moment, and then he felt the sadness overwhelm her scent. He held her close, soothing her, adjusting his image of her in light of this new information. And damn, as much as he could tell it tore her up inside, the majority of his reaction was pride.
He had known for awhile that she was strong, and determined, but it was a little different now. Maybe it was the Wolverine in him, reveling in the knowledge that his mate had the ferocity to protect herself and their young. Christ...his mate? Their young? When in the hell had he started thinking like that?
He pushed the errant thought aside, focusing on the woman in his arms. He cradled her closer, running his hand up and down her back.
“Maybe this’ll tell you what kind of bastard I really am, darlin’, but — I’m glad. I’m glad that you were able to stand up for yourself. Do what needed to be done, to protect yourself and those kids. Maybe it didn’t have to happen that way, but in that moment — no one can blame you for actin’ on instinct...”
He trailed off, considering his own words. Damn, but she had him pegged. Knowin’ what she had done, it didn’t change how he felt about her — not one damn bit. Could he believe the same of her? That she could know the things that he had done and understand?
He felt shaky and weird, the panic starting to rise in him again, but he closed his eyes and spoke anyway.
“I killed a woman, Marie. Right in front of her kid. I dreamed it, but I know it happened. I didn’t mean to — she came at me with a knife and the claws just came out — but he was lookin’ right at us, just watchin’, and then he started screamin’. And the way he looked at me — like I was some kind of demon, some kind of nightmare...”
His voice broke, and he closed his eyes in shame. “I never want to see you lookin’ at me like that, Marie,” he finished softly. “That’s what I’m scared of.”
She was holding him tight, nuzzling even closer. “I never will, Logan. I promise ya. I’ll never think that of ya.” Her voice was steady and certain. “Whatever you did — whatever you remember. You don’t have to worry about that any more, sugar.”
He hadn’t realized how much he had needed to hear that from her. How much he needed to know that. He lay there in the darkness, holding her close, smelling the truth of her words, feeling suddenly free of at least some of the fears that had been haunting him.
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