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FIC: An Unusual Situation Part II: 4/4: PG-13: Logan, Rogue, L/R, S/J, other, all

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  • Jenn
    4/4 Marie heard the noises again--but this time, she was sure it wasn t sex. {Logan?} Uncertainly, she got to her knees on the bed, shutting her eyes,
    Message 1 of 1 , Jan 29, 2001

      Marie heard the noises again--but this time, she was sure it wasn't sex.


      Uncertainly, she got to her knees on the bed, shutting her eyes, listening
      carefully to the sound of his voice. No, not sex--it sounded like a
      nightmare. And she had those--God, did she, some hers, some Cody's, all
      reaching into her, into dark places she didn't like to look at too closely
      once light broke through the window. Hesitantly, she placed both feet on
      the floor, standing up.

      Another low groan, a growl--like someone was hurting him. Bad. And that
      decided her--she slipped her full weight off the bed, padding to the door,
      pausing for a second to listen again.

      A yell that sent chills up her spine. God, no one should have to go
      through that. Opening the door, she checked the hallway, then made her way
      one door down to the room Logan was occupying--she had to wonder why Jamie
      had so many rooms she never used, when by her own admission she never had

      Then quickly peeked into Jamie's room--and yes, Jamie was asleep in there.
      Fair enough--he was alone, no one else was in there to wake him up.
      Carefully, she padded back down the hall and knocked sharply at his door.


      It didn't work. Damn.

      Another knock, and she paused again, listening carefully for the sounds of
      waking, for something--but there was nothing, only a long, low growl--she'd
      never heard a human growl before him and it still made the hair on the back
      of her neck stand up. Sliding her hand around the knob, she turned it,
      opening into his room. He was barely visible, on his back, twisting under
      the blankets.

      "Logan?" she whispered--God, she wasn't that stupid, was she? If he didn't
      waken to a pretty sharp knock, he wasn't going to hear her voice. Taking
      another step toward the bed, she took in the bare chest--{you don't need to
      be thinkin' like that, sugar}--bit down on her lip, and approached the side
      of the bed.

      And realized, seconds before touching him, she was ungloved.

      {Damn. Damn, damn, damn.}

      Uncertain, Marie considered her options. Then decided.

      "Logan." A little louder. Then again. "Logan!"

      And something happened. He yelled something--she wasn't even sure it was
      English--and sat up, one arm going out--and something cold went through
      her. Oddly, it didn't hurt. She stared at Logan, seeing the hazel eyes
      come fully awake, staring at her as if she was--was--

      God. She looked down and saw his knuckles pressed against her chest, and
      how odd, she could see the breaks in his skin. Ah, the cold--that was what
      it felt like for those claws to slide into you. It should have hurt--but
      all she felt was suddenly a little sleepy and it was a little harder to
      breathe. Hit a lung? Maybe.

      For some reason, it didn't seem that bad--it was certainly easier than
      starvation, at any rate. So many problems solved just now, for both of
      them. But God, he didn't look good, and she tried to smile, tell him it
      was okay, she didn't mind.

      "God, Marie--help. Jamie! Help! Shit, Marie--" He began to reach out
      and she shook her head--no use killing him while she died.

      {shouldn't it hurt, just a little?}

      "You were having a nightmare," she said, aware that it was probably
      inappropriate to be in his bedroom at this time of night, worrying with an
      odd light-headedness what her mother would think of her daughter wandering
      into a strange man's bedroom wearing pajamas two sizes too big and bare
      feet--she should wear a robe maybe.

      {wear a robe for modesty. don't worry, momma, there's not much chance
      anyone'll ever want to touch me again, robe or not}

      "I know." His voice was raspy and she didn't like what she saw in
      them--and she wanted to explain, to tell him that she didn't mind, that
      he'd done what eventually would have happened anyway and it didn't hurt,
      but she didn't have that kind of strength to talk, and there was a pleasant
      metal taste in her mouth--

      {blood, your lungs are bleeding}

      --no, this wasn't so bad at all.

      "Oh God." Jamie was here.

      She wanted to tell him all that, tell him not to look like that, it was
      just fine, but nothing came out of her mouth except something
      iron-tasting--{blood}--and she reached out--

      --{remember what skin feels like, I wanna remember that, I wanna have that,
      just a brush}

      --and his skin was rough under her fingers.

      {Thank you, Logan. It wasn't that bad.}

      And it happened.

      It was a shock, like a barely remembered childhood memory of touching a
      sparking plug in the downstairs living room, a jolt that shot through her
      body--it didn't hurt, not until long later, but it flickered into every
      nerve, lighting her up, bring something deep within her fully awake and
      alive as she'd never been before. This time--it was shapes and images and
      things she didn't recognize, couldn't even identify--

      --it was Cody all over again, but so different. The claws in her chest
      retracted instinctively but she didn't fall as heat spread through her,
      focusing on her chest, her back, riding into her mind, bringing more
      images, the blood on her tongue receding

      {what is this, what the hell is she doing, Marie, baby, stop}

      And startled, she stepped back--or did she fall?--she wasn't sure. Stared
      as the man in front of her toppled over, onto the floor. Pulling her hand
      close--was it her hand?

      {Logan? Marie?}

      Logan was on the floor and suddenly scents overwhelmed her--sweat and blood
      and perfume and detergent, so much so fast her eyes began to water, and she
      felt Jamie drop at her feet, beside Logan, stared down at them.

      {I didn't mean to stab her, Jamie. It was an accident.}

      "It was an accident," she whispered, and--and God, Logan was on the floor,
      she was Marie, Marie, not him, not--

      --and the images were too much, she wanted to knock her head against
      something to clear the images, turning to the door, stumbling out, hitting
      the opposite wall and sinking down, trying to breathe through the shock,
      the smells, the tastes, the memories--

      {--"I'm not like you."--}

      {--"Does it hurt?" and she rubbed her knuckles, "Every damn time."--}

      Covered her face with her hands and it was all too much, Marie couldn't
      stand up to all those thoughts competing for space, and she drew her legs
      up to her chest and began to rock.

      * * * * *

      Logan woke up and the first thing he saw was Jamie. She looked
      worried--which was odd, because he'd never seen Jamie worried before.

      {Jamie? What the fuck is going on, where am I?}

      God, did his head hurt, and that wasn't anywhere near normal.

      And something against his head, her hand--the faint memory of dark eyes,
      fingers brushing his skin, something he did--somehow he'd done something
      very wrong.


      "Where's Rogue?" Somehow, even now, he remembered what to call her, God
      knew how. "Is she okay?" He began to sit up, but Jamie pushed him back
      down, planting a hand on his chest.

      "Don't move. She's fine. How are you feeling?"

      "Like I've been on a three day bender." He shut his eyes again and heard
      Jamie sigh in relief. "What the hell did she do to me?"

      A pause, and he opened his eyes, seeing Jamie's frown of concentration.

      "I'm not exactly sure--I didn't exactly major in advanced mutant powers in
      college, honey. Can you sit up?"

      "Where is she?"

      "In her room. Exhausted. She's sleeping."

      A thousand thoughts flickered through Logan's head.

      "Is her door locked?"

      Startled, Jamie drew back, blinking, but Logan was already trying to get
      up--oh fuck did that hurt, fuck a ten day bender, upgrade it to three week,
      he'd *never* felt this bad before. With a growl, he sank back down. "Lock
      her door, Jamie. She may make a run for it."

      "She won't." He felt the bed shift, Jamie getting on both knees, and
      suddenly he was horizontal again--her favorite position, the irony didn't
      escape him--before she backed back to the edge. "I dosed her with a
      sedative before I came to check on you. Lay still--regenerative or not,
      you were drained pretty far down."

      "Is that what she did?" He looked up, saw the thoughtful look on Jamie's

      "She said it's touch--that's all I could get out of her, she kept growling.
      Which brings me to my thought--she absorbs life, yes--but she borrowed your
      mutation, honey. She's fine--when she fell asleep I examined her and there
      isn't even a scar."

      "Borrowed." Logan tentatively sat up and Jamie frowned but let him.
      Before he could think to ask, she shoved a glass of water in his hand.

      "Drink. You should be okay--your breathing evened out after less than an
      hour. She took a lot out of you--and trust me, it showed."


      Jamie smiled.

      "You should see the banister--don't worry, honey, you can fix it before you
      take off to the Great Beyond. I had to sedate her just to keep her from
      hurting herself or any property. But she's okay otherwise." A pause.
      "Logan, it wasn't just your mutation she borrowed. She said some
      things--things that I don't think she'd know otherwise, or have done."

      Logan took a breath, taking that in.

      "She got my memories."

      "I think so." Jamie's voice was gentle. "She hit on me once--a new
      experience, lemme tell you." Another pause. "Logan--" She paused, and he
      knew what she was going to say--that she couldn't keep Marie, that he'd
      have to find some other way, and he was trying to think of what to do--was
      locking her in a variety of motel rooms really feasible and God, his head
      hurt. "Logan, when you came, I wasn't sure about this, not at all. Her
      mutation--" A pause. "I've never seen anyone do anything like that, and
      I've seen a lot."

      "Yeah." He wasn't sure what he meant there--it was just something to say,
      trying to figure out where Jamie was going with this. He looked up at her,
      perched on the edge of the bed, absently twisting her nightgown between her

      "So if she'll agree--you don't need to find her somewhere else. She'll
      stay here. For good, until she can figure out a way to unplug that gift of
      hers at very least." And the serious green eyes met his.

      Logan wasn't sure what he felt--relief, definitely. Shock, yes. But more
      than that--he felt himself begin to smile, taking a breath against the
      sudden relaxation of his body.

      "If we can convince her of that," Jamie added. Logan nodded slowly--the
      headache was receding nicely, he could think clearly again.

      "I'll take care of it."

      * * * * *

      Jamie flipped the television off as Logan walked out of Marie's room, just
      as dawn was showing its head above the horizon.

      "She'll stay." He dropped on the couch, and beneath the scowl she could
      see the lines of tiredness--he was still drained from Marie, no doubt, and
      it was showing. But beneath even that was cool satisfaction--Logan tended
      toward winning without getting around to counting the cost. Gently, she
      reached out, touching his arm, and he shook his head.

      "You sure?"

      There was the slightest curve of his lips before he nodded slowly.

      "Got her promise--she'll stay." A low sigh, almost inaudible. "I've
      fucking lost my mind--I just spent thirty minutes convincing a kid I didn't
      even know fucking *existed* a few days ago to trust me."

      "Be careful, Logan, or you might start resembling a human being or
      something." His low growl amused her and she motioned toward the bags on
      the floor. "I need to get this up to her when she gets up. She asleep?"
      Logan nodded, wincing a little, and Jamie frowned. "What's wrong?"

      "Her nightmare." At Jamie's incomprehension, Logan sank a little farther
      into the cushions and pulled out a cigar. "One of my personal
      favorites--isn't she the lucky one? Shit."

      Jamie looked thoughtful for a moment.

      "That will be interesting--did she growl at you?"

      That startled him a little and Logan cracked a smile without even meaning
      to, she could see it in his face.

      "Yeah. Twice. Second time she noticed and turned red. Cute." He played
      with the cigar, which really was enough to make her smile. His mind was
      clearly elsewhere. "Why the hell am I doing this?"

      "What's your instinct?"

      The dark eyes met hers briefly and Jamie knew he'd already decided, saw it
      reflected in the recesses of his mind, the places that were mysteries even
      to him. Probably made the decision in that destroyed camper, and he shook
      his head, glancing at the stairs behind him briefly before putting the
      cigar away.

      "I've got to get ready to go."

      Jamie smirked.

      "You do that."

      * * * * *

      She was standing in the living room, wrapped up in a heavy sweater and
      jeans, arms curled around herself, gloved hands cupping her elbows. The
      long dark hair was drawn up from her face in a ponytail, making her look
      impossibly young. Staring into the fireplace, her profile outlined in
      orange, he thought she might have been crying. God, don't let her start
      now. If he didn't know what to do with scared kids, he sure as hell didn't
      have a clue what to do with crying ones. Uncomfortably, he shifted,
      wondering why he was putting this off.

      "Marie." Get it done already.

      She spun on her heel and her hands came up fast, wiping her face with the
      tips of her fingers. So she didn't want him to see it--and something in
      him twisted a little. It was strange, to matter so much to someone. He
      wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it.

      "You runnin' again?" And if she thought her voice was casual, she wasn't
      fooling anyone, least of all him.

      "Yeah. I got some things to do."

      She nodded slowly, not making a move toward him, eyes downcast.

      "I'll be back."

      She nodded again, a little jerkily, hands fiddling with the edge of her
      sweater. Beneath the black leather, he could see the knuckles were tense.

      "Yeah," she said softly, then looked up. God, was that guilt? Then a rush
      of words, so fast it was hard to catch them all. "I--I'm sorry. I didn't
      mean to hurt you--"

      Oh fuck. She thought he was leaving because of her. He shook his head
      quickly, taking a step toward her, watched her draw back, arms curling
      tighter around herself, eyes wide. "Marie, it doesn't have anything to do
      with you--you know that." Well, not exactly true, but nothing to do with
      what she was worried about. Her head went down again and he took the two
      steps that separated them, catching her around the waist, drawing her
      close. Both hands came out to stop him and he had to grin, wondering a
      little to himself when exactly she started amusing him. "Stop that--shit,
      Marie, you're better covered than a nun. I won't get hurt." Cupped the
      back of her head gently, looking down at her. "I'm not leaving because of
      that. I wanna find out some stuff, and I can't do it from here."

      It was slow, the way she relaxed against him finally, letting him touch
      her, and she nodded a little, but it didn't remove the shadow from her
      eyes, the tightness of her mouth.

      "I'll be back. I promise."

      Her head went down again and she nodded quickly. Carefully, he let her go,
      looking at her bent head, the edge of the ponytail brushing her cheek When
      she looked up, her eyes were dry, but he saw her strained smile. For a
      second, he looked at that smile, how hard she was trying, then felt around
      his neck, the tags that had been the only thing he'd ever kept. Staring
      down at her, he pulled them off, catching her hand, and folding them up
      into her palm. She stared down, startled, and he closed her fingers with
      his over the metal.

      Two things he'd keep now, and God, who knew he'd ever get attached to
      someone like her.

      "Keep these until I get back, okay?" he said. Wide dark eyes stared into
      his, and she nodded mutely. Another brush of her hair, and he tilted her
      head up. "Promise me you won't be runnin' anywhere, Marie."

      Her lips quirked.

      "I'll be here when you get back," she said, and there was her smile,
      reaching into her eyes this time. He nodded quickly, turning away, finding
      his bag by the door and walked out. Jamie was waiting by the car, the wind
      picking up loose strands of blonde hair.

      "I changed the plates and new registration is waiting for you in
      Vancouver," she said as he opened the trunk. "Sell it as soon as you get
      in town."

      "I know that much," he shot back, giving her a wicked grin, and saw her
      eyebrows jump. She glanced back at the door and he circled the car as she
      leaned against the driver's side, her coat wrapped close around her. "I'll
      get her some identification and mail it once I get to Calgary. Just in
      case." He'd thought this through the night before, what it would take to
      keep her relatively safe. He paused. "Thanks, Jamie. For doing this."

      "She's a sweet girl," Jamie answered easily. "She's gonna miss you."

      Logan nodded, glancing back at the door, and didn't miss the smug smile she
      threw at him when he looked back. "What?"

      "Nothin'." Though the grin didn't diminish at all and he growled, hearing
      her snicker in response. Women.

      "Here." Before he forgot, he pulled out his wallet, dropping most of his
      cash into her surprised palm. Before she could object, he folded her
      fingers over it. "In case she needs anything. I've got enough to get by.
      I'll be back soon."

      She nodded again and gave him a quick hug, drawing back, the smirk back.
      Over her shoulder, he saw Marie standing at the window, face pale--she
      ducked when she saw him looking at her and it made him smile.

      "If she needs anything--if anything happens, you know how to contact me."

      The look on Jamie's face was priceless--that was fun. She shook her head

      "She'll be fine. But she could probably stand to hear from you once in
      awhile. If you get bored screwing around the provinces." She paused, her
      tone becoming deliberate. "Be careful." What she didn't say he already
      knew and he nodded, glancing at the window again, catching a glimpse of
      white skin before it disappeared again, and this time he couldn't help the
      laugh. Jamie hit him on the shoulder, drawing back, and Logan got in,
      giving the window one last glance.

      Marie didn't duck this time, and one gloved hand waved a little from behind
      the glass. That was an image he'd take with him for more miles than he
      ever suspected possible.

      End Part II


      --When I watch that scene I do not think "Oh, he's such a good father

      --It was incestuous pity weird surgical glove wearing sex.--Reasonable
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