“What happened, darling?” Logan asked softly. Marie sat before him on an infirmary bed, a heavy wool blanket draped around her shoulders. Hank and Charles sat a little way off as Logan stroked her hair, whispering against her forehead. “How'd you get here?”
“Victor.” She sniffed and Logan looked down at her.
“What? How?”
“Forge built a time machine.”
“...I don't know what to say to that.”
“He'd been collecting historical data for a while, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. He traced it back to Bolivar Trask. Said we were all dead the minute the Sentinels went online.”
“He told you all that?” She shook her head sadly.
“He was all set to make the trip, but the Sentinels found his hideout. Victor escaped with the tech, then he came to get me.”
“Why didn't this Victor guy do it if he had everything he needed?” Hank asked and handed her a cup of water. She gave him a small smile and sipped it slowly, her throat still a little raw from months of disuse.
“Apparently, you can only go back if you haven't been born yet.” She turned back to Logan. “Some Back to The Future paradox shit about running into your past self.” Logan nodded and stroked her hair, patiently waiting for her continue.
He could imagine the pain she was in all too well, having experienced a fair amount of his own. Although there wasn't a mark on her, she had clearly been through the ringer. Even without his enhanced senses he could see how she shook, how her eyes darted about at every little sound. With his senses, he could hear her heart racing and smell her anger and fear. It made him sick.
He kissed her hair as she continued.
“He dug in through a crack in the foundations and broke into Cerebro. Woke me up and told me to find the both of you. Said you'd take care of Trask and Stryker.”
“William Stryker?” Charles sat forward in his chair and she nodded.
“What do you mean he woke you up?” Hank frowned.
“They put me in a coma.” Logan's hand fisted in her hair and she leaned against him. “I absorb other mutants' powers. When he touched my skin, he transferred a little of his healing ability into my body.”
“So, what does Stryker have to do with this?” Logan asked, his jaw set.
“They're working together. And if they both die, we're all free and clear.”
“Well, that kind of goes against my plan.” Marie raised an eyebrow and he continued. “Kitty sent me back here to see that Mystique doesn't assassinate Trask. Charles told me that's how the war started.”
“Wait, how the hell did she send you back?”
“By transferring my future consciousness into my past body. Obviously.” She was quiet for a moment before replying.
“You don't have to be a dick about it.”
“I know. It's just funny.” he grinned and kissed her nose. She fisted her hand in his shirt and they stayed like that for a long moment before Charles cleared his throat.
“Well, they've certainly given us a lot to think about, Hank.” he nodded grimly, his eyes fixed on the rail thin woman before him. He scrubbed a calloused hand over his face and sighed. “I say we all take an hour to wrap our heads around...all this.”
XXXXXXXXXX
Logan watched as Marie wrapped herself in a fluffy white bathrobe, barely keeping his animal in check at the sight of her. He didn't think she weighed more than a hundred pounds, her skin was pale and paper-thin, her hair lacked the shine and body he remembered. He supposed it was only Victor's healing factor was the only reason her muscles worked after months of being in a medically induced coma.
“Feel better now?” he asked softly as she sat between his legs on the bed. His breath was warm on her neck and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
“So much better.” She smiled and leaned back against him, turning her head as he nuzzled her damp chestnut curls. “Still a little weak and wobbly, but I'm getting there.”
“I'm so sorry I let this happen, Marie.” he sighed and held her tighter.
“You didn't.” She frowned and turned in his arms, standing between his legs as his hands moved to her hips.
“I made you a promise, and I failed.” His hazel eyes shone in the mid-afternoon sun, glistening with sorrow and rage. Her own eyes burned with unshed tears.
“That's not what happened.”
“I let my guard down, and you got taken. It was my mistake. You shouldn't have suffered because of it.”
“I don't want to cry any more, Logan.” She straddled his lap and rested her forehead against his. “I don't want to think about what they did to me, or how long I've been gone.” She buried her fingers in his hair and he wrapped his arms around her waist. “I want to think about that first night in Madripoor.”
“You can't handle that right now, darling.” He almost sounded like he meant it, but the slight growl in his voice told her she had him.
“We were holed up in that dive in Lowtown. Just the two of us.”
“Marie.” he warned. She began unbuttoning his shirt.
“We were dirty and exhausted and high on adrenaline.” She removed his arms from her waist and pushed his shirt down over his biceps. “We took off our wet clothes, and you checked me over for cuts and bruises.” He gazed up at her with dark eyes, muscles straining as he tossed his shirt across the room. “Your hand was between my legs.” she breathed as Logan untied her bathrobe. “And then-” He kissed her. Deep and hard.
She whimpered against his lips as he stripped her of her robe and lay her down. He flipped her over and straddled her thighs, pulling her hips up to meet his. She looked over her shoulder in time to see him unbuckle his belt and push his jeans down just far enough to free himself. He leaned over her and growled against her cheek.
“Remember, darling,” he reached under her hips and parted her soft, wet folds, his hard cock poised at her entrance “You asked for this.”
He thrust into her then, burying himself in her sweet heat in one long, smooth stroke. She gasped into the comforter, realising the moment he stilled inside her that he had been right – she wasn't ready for him. But she needed him nonetheless, just as he needed her. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way his hand gripped hers as she fisted the sheets, the way he breathed her name against her shoulder.
The first time in the Princess Bar, he had bent her over a dirty table and fucked her hard and fast while she begged for more – the animal had claimed her. Later, when she had had time to recover and he had wound down, he had taken her again. He was different with her then, more gentle than he had been before, and she could swear she had felt him in her soul. It was the first time they made love, wrapped around each other on the moonlit dance floor of a condemned nightclub.
She thought about Madripoor a lot those first eight days in her cell. Sitting in the pitch black, given just enough protein mush to keep her alive until they figured out what to do with her. She would play those nights over in her head, and prayed every time she heard footsteps outside her cell door that it would be him here to rescue her. But every time, a guard would shove a plastic tray through a flap and walk away.
She hadn't thought it was possible to miss anyone the way she had missed Logan, and being with him again brought tears to her eyes. He squeezed her hand and nuzzled her cheek, kissing her softly when she turned her face to him. She reached back to bury her fingers in his thick hair and pushed her hips up a little, earning herself a deep growl.
“I missed you.” He began moving against her, sweet and slow, the calloused fingers beneath her massaging her clit in time with his thrusts. She half-moaned and tugged at his hair, arching her back as he rolled his hips against her. “I won't last long if you keep that up, darling.” he huffed, moving harder, faster, deeper with every thrust.
“That's the point.” she grinned and he applied more pressure to her clit, nipping the smooth column of her throat.
He could smell how close she was and it drove him wild. It was getting more and more difficult to keep the animal caged, but there was no way she could handle the Wolverine in her current condition. He just had to hold on a little longer and hope that the beast would back off once he was satisfied.
“Logan, I-” Her walls were beginning to flutter around him and the hand in his hair fell away to grip the comforter.
“Just let go.” he rumbled against her throat, as he had many times before. He held her close as she quietly came apart beneath him, whimpering incoherently as he followed her over the edge.
He didn't move again for some time and she found a great deal of comfort in his weight, both above and inside her, and his heart pounding in time with her own.
After a moment, he slowly withdrew from her and pulled up his jeans. She felt the mattress rise as he stood, then his hands on her once again as he wrapped her in a blanket and gathered her in his arms. He settled again on the bed, sitting back against the headboard as he held her tightly.
They stayed like that a while, just taking each other in, until Hank knocked on the door to them he had made lunch, causing Logan and Marie to grudgingly separate.
He watched her dress in a blue school t shirt and grey sweatpants, the bruises he had left already faded from her alabaster skin. But whether she bore his brand or not, she would always be his. And he would never let her go again.
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