Title: X-Men: An Alternate View 1: The Movie
Author: Jen Sweeney
Email: ltschase@aol.com

Rating: R just to be safe
Summary: In this alternate-reality version of the movie, Logan fights Sabertooth without X-men intervention. He and Marie start building a life together. But in time they do come into contact with X-men.
Disclaimer: The characters and concept of the X-men are not mine. I borrowed them without permission from Christopher McQuarrie and Ed Solomon (who wrote the movie) and Marvel (who own the X-Men) and Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. No infringement on copyrights intended. I didn't hurt anyone but Logan and since he heals fast no one should notice.
Author's Notes: I watched the movie. I read the book. And I still thought of how else it could've gone. So I wrote it. Kind of a "If I ruled this little part of the universe, how I'd have done it." Any scenes NOT described below are unchanged from the movie. (Mostly the part in the Statue of Liberty) What else... Well it's Logan/Marie (go figure) and Jean/Scott with a little harmless Logan/Jean flirtation thrown in.
A major THANK YOU to Tiffany and Kylie for reading and editing. I can't say how much I appreciated it.
So like it, hate it, read it, don't. But if you do and you enjoy it, let me know. I have a part two planned for the next time I actually have time to sit and write.
And just FYI, I've never read the comics. I've seen the cartoons a few times in passing. So any errors are entirely due to my lack of research.

*****

He felt it the minute she walked in. A strange pull in his chest. His heart. And his soul. He glanced around and saw her immediately. It wasn't just how out of place she was. Though she was. Very. She was like a ray of sunlight suddenly appearing at midnight. The bar was dark and smoky and she was hidden in a heavy hooded coat. But he caught a glimpse of her face and her profile was instantly burned into his memory.

When he left the ring he walked to sit next to her at the bar. Partially from the intense need to protect her, and partially to see if she reacted to him at all. Then the fight broke out and he walked. Cursing himself as he went. Fights would always be breaking out. And he'd always in places like the bar. Places she didn't belong.

His mind was racing so fast it took a while to notice the smell. Delicate and light. The girl was in his trailer. He ordered her out and tried again to leave her. But one glance into the rearview had him stopping.

So now she was sitting next to him. Turning her sweet little nose up at his truck. Swallowing his food like she was starving. And staring at him with the biggest brown eyes he'd ever seen.

"You should wear your seatbelt," she reprimanded.

"Look kid..."

And as if to support her words, the truck slammed into something hard and unyielding. He felt himself go weightless, then the intense pain of slamming into the icy ground.

Those eyes again. Staring at him in shock as he felt the wounds on his head heal. Then a new smell hit him. Almost at the same time as he realized that the tree had been deliberately pushed into their path. Then a blur of white and stench flew out of the tree line.

Logan didn't know who or what he was fighting, only that it was stronger then he was and just as relentless. It slammed him into every available surface again and again. It dodged his claws. Then the girl screamed. And it paused long enough for Logan to rip a sizable chunk from its chest. It stumbled back bleeding and roared at him. It rushed again and he knocked it to the ground. He felt something rip from his neck and saw his dog tags dangling from the creature's grasp. He bent to catch his breath and the creature scrambled up and away. It disappeared almost immediately into the raging blizzard.

He could still smell it. Especially the blood pouring from its wounds. He took a step to follow.

"HELP ME!"

The cry was terrified and desperate. He whirled. Fire was consuming the camper. And she was still in there. He yanked the door free with one hand.

He grabbed the seatbelt that held her trapped. Pulling did nothing so he extended one claw and sliced through. He pulled her out gently and stepped a few paces away before setting her to her feet. He grabbed her duffel and tossed it to her. A glance at the fire told him how long he had and he strode back to the hitch. He yanked the trailer free and shoved the truck forward. It began to roll. It gathered momentum down the slope and was far enough away when the fire reached the tanks and exploded.

He didn't look at her. Couldn't. He gathered what he needed from the trailer and shoved it into a duffel. He tossed the bag over his shoulder, shoved a new cigar into his mouth, and started walking. He was several meters away when he turned back to the girl.

"Are you coming?"

She looked at him and blinked. He turned away as those big brown eyes locked with his again. He stood for a moment, breathing and listening. He heard her lift her bag then her slight footsteps crunching the snow. He waited until she was right behind him before starting to walk. He adjusted his strides so that she wasn't forced to run.

It was several hours before she spoke.

"I need to stop," she whispered.

He sighed and tossed his bag to the ground. "Make it quick."

She nodded and disappeared into the brush. He waited a second then sat down onto a rock. A minute passed. Then two. Then five.

"Hey, Kid! I said to make it quick."

Silence reached him.

"Kid?" He rose and concentrated. The sound was soft but there. The unmistakable sound of retching. "Kid?" His voice was gentler. "Uhm... Marie?" That was her name, wasn't it? He brushed aside the bush she'd ducked behind. She was on her knees, leaning against a tree. "It's OK, Kid, it's just the shock or the..." He gasped as he drew closer and saw the snow stained a deep, dark red.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered as she slumped to her side. She was clutching her stomach, tears streaming down her pale face.

"Oh God," he choked. He should've checked her. She'd been in a severe accident and he hadn't even looked her over. "Where does it hurt? MARIE. Tell me where it hurts!"

"Stomach," she whispered. "I'll be fine."

He took her by the shoulders and shifted her to lie in the clean snow. He was careful to keep her on the long hooded coat. Then he began to unbutton her shirt.

"No," she cried and shoved at his hands. "Don't touch me."

"I have to see how bad it is," he reassured her. "Damnit Marie!" He grabbed her gloved hands and pinned them above her head in one of his. Her hands looked so small and fragile when compared to his huge paw. "I won't hurt you."

"But I'll hurt you," she protested.

He glared at her as she fought him. He finally ended up with one leg thrown over her hips to hold her down. With one hand still gripping her wrists, he extended a claw on the other and slit through the layers covering her abdomen.

"Oh God," he breathed. The bruise spread across where the seatbelt had caught her. It was vivid and angry. "Oh dear God." Claws withdrawn, he gently probed the area, wincing as she screamed. "Baby I don't know what to..." Then he felt it. Pulling. Tugging at him. Wrapping itself around him.

He laid his hand flat over her stomach. Skin to skin. For a second he again marveled at the softness of her. The slight-ness. The fragility. Then the pull became overwhelming. A torrent rushed out of him. He shook his head and blackness crashed over him.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

He was cold. Not extremely. But enough to be uncomfortable. He should open his eyes. Really should. But that seemed to call for more effort then he had to give. So he lay there and focused his other senses. He could hear the wind rustling the snow around him. And another sound. He couldn't identify it, so he filed it for later. Smells. The smell of the cold. And the trees. And the girl.

The girl!

He opened his eyes and blinked them into focus. He was lying on his back. He lifted his head gingerly and she came into view. She was sitting next to the tree staring at him. He sat up slowly and her coat slid off of his chest. He focused on her. She was shaking violently and her teeth were chattering uncontrollably. That had been the sound. Her eyes were wide and terrified.

"Are you still hurt?"

She shook her head jerkily.

"Hell of a power you got there, kid."

"I didn't mean to," she whispered.

He nodded and rested his aching head in his hand for a moment. He looked at her again. "Kid? Marie?"

Her shirt was still gaping open. Her face was bloodless. Her lips were blue. She shuddered once. Twice. Then stopped. Bad sign. A very bad sign.

He reached for her. She scrambled away. But slow, sluggish. He grasped her firmly.

"Rule number one: Don't pull away from me. I am not going to hurt you." He sat her up and wrapped her coat around her. Then he struggled to get to his feet. It took a minute, but he felt the strength of his own mutation flowing again. He went back out of the brush and gathered their things. He pulled a blanket and a length of rope from his. He tied her bag to his and tossed them over his shoulder. Then he went back to her. She was sitting where he left her, making no effort to cover herself. He tucked the coat around her and lifted her to her feet. He laid the blanket over his free shoulder and stooped. He leaned her against him, keeping the blanket between her exposed flesh and his. He slid an arm under her bottom and lifted.

She was limp in his arms, so still. The coldness of her seeped through the blanket and chilled him. Worse were the bones. He'd held many a woman in his arms. But never one where every bone could be traced through the skin.

Not a woman. A girl. A child.

He really hated that he had to keep reminding himself that.

It was an amazingly short time later that the lights of the town came into view. And there, on the edge, the familiar neon of a no-tell.

There was a grungy looking man behind the counter and a bell over the door.

He glared as Logan strode in carrying Marie.

"I need a room," Logan said softly.

"Full up," the man retorted.

Logan glanced pointedly at the Vacancy sign blinking in the blowing snow that fell into an empty parking lot.

"Try the Starlight, mile or so down. They cater to the more... kinky sort."

Logan growled low in his chest causing Marie to lift her head. He pressed it back down and rubbed her hair for a moment before refocusing on the manager.

"Look. My daughter and I were traveling through when we had an accident. I had to leave the truck and walk here. And I am not taking her any further in this cold. Now give me a room!"

"Oh. Oh. Yes sir. I am sorry sir. It's just you..."

"I know," Logan nodded. "Just give me a room please." He pulled his wallet out one handed and thumbed through the bills he'd won in the bar. "One with a good working heater."

"Yes sir. Of course sir!" The man scrambled out at the sight of the wad of cash. He snatched a key off the board and led them back into the cold. He took them a few doors down and opened the door. "There's a kitchen and a bath."

Logan strode over to the heater and touched it. "This will do."

"Does she need a doctor? I could call..."

"No," Logan protested. "She's just cold. We'll be fine. Thanks."

"I forgot to get you registered," the manager cringed.

Logan nodded. He went to the king size bed and gently laid Marie down. He folded the bedspread and blankets around her. "I'll be right back."

The manager had him sign in and pay for the room. He provided a few extra blankets and even sold Logan a few cans of soup.

"Pots in the room?"

"Yes, sir."

Logan chuckled to himself as he returned to the room. It had been a long time since anyone called him "sir".

Marie was sitting up on the bed. He walked over to the heater and turned it up to high.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"Hurting you."

He turned and stooped in front of her. Her head fell and her hair slid down to cover her face. He reached up to brush it back and she jerked back.

"Marie."

"Rogue," she corrected. "Marie's dead."

"No," he shook his head. "Marie is here." He tapped her chest.

"No." She shook her head violently. "Marie is DEAD. That's what he said. And he was right. I am not Marie. And I never will be again."

"Who said that?" he was scowling.

"My father," her voice quivered.

Logan let out a long sigh. "Because of your power?"

"I kissed a boy," she whispered. "The first boy I ever kissed. And he ended up in a coma for three weeks. My mama wanted to move. Take me and go. My father said that they were staying, but that I had to go. He said I wasn't theirs. That their Marie was dead. My mama said it was for the best."

Logan snarled, deep and feral. Without conscious thought, the claws shot out of his hands and pierced the mattress. "Your father was a bastard. And your mother a weak fool."

"I could have KILLED you. I could kill the world just by touching it!"

"Marie."

"Rogue."

"MARIE."

"ROGUE!"

He grasped her by the shoulders and shook sharply. "Marie. You are Marie."

He stared into her fathomless eyes. "You are Marie. You are a mutant. And I am Logan. I am a mutant. And I am fine. You didn't hurt me. Ahh!" He shook his finger when she opened her mouth to protest. "You didn't hurt me seriously. I am here. I am fine. You just... borrowed my ability to heal for a while. Thank God you did. You'd have died out there. And besides you didn't touch me. I touched you. OK?"

She swallowed hard and nodded reluctantly.

He gave her a smile. "Hungry?"

She shook her head.

"OK. Then we get some sleep. Change into some dry clothes. I take it that's what I was carrying over hither and yon?"

She nodded.

"Good. We'll sleep and figure out tomorrow, tomorrow."

She cocked an eyebrow and growled "There's a plan for ya!" Then she slammed her hands over her mouth.

He stared at her then chuckled, "Absorb a little more than my power did ya?"

She nodded hands still on her mouth.

"Like what?"

"Everything," she replied.

"Damn kid, it was scary enough with just me in here," he tapped his forehead. "Get changed."

She rose and walked toward the bathroom. He cocked his head watching the slight sway of her hips.

"Marie?"

She turned back.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen and a half."

He laid his head down onto the mattress. "Two words for you Logan. Jail and bait."

Rogue stirred. She felt warm. And comfortable. And safe. It felt strange. She smiled and opened her eyes. The motel room was dingy and small. But the sheets smelled freshly laundered. She stretched, reveling in the smooth sheets against her legs. She turned her head. The other side of the bed was rumpled but empty. She sat up.

The room was empty. His bag was gone. He was gone.

The warmth that had filled her fled. An icy coldness filled her soul. She tossed back the blankets and stood. She shouldn't have depended. Nothing good came from depending. She threw on clothes over top of the T-shirt and shorts she'd slept in. She'd learned early that layers were best. Less likely someone would come in contact with her skin accidentally. She tossed the torn shirts from last night in the trashcan and left without a backward glance.

Outside, she blinked in the bright sun reflecting off the white snow.

"Mornin'," a voice rasped from her left.

She turned. A man with long reddish brown hair leaned against the wall a few rooms down.

"Mornin'," she replied. "Which way's the highway?"

He pointed with his cup of coffee. "Need a ride somewhere?"

"No thank you." She shook her head and began to trudge through the snow.

Alone was better. Safer. She'd done well enough so far. She'd be fine.

She didn't need him.

And maybe someday she'd believe that.

Four miles down the road; Logan strode into a small general store. The clerk looked up from his paper, startled. Logan nodded to him and began walking the aisles. The first aisle held canned goods. He snatched a basket off of the floor and began loading it up. Soups, vegetables, fruits soon filled the small basket and he carried it to the clerk.

"You want to start ringing this?"

"S-Sir?" the clerk stammered.

"Ringing it up? Totaling the sale?" Logan scowled. "Look I don't want to be here too long." He slammed his wallet to the counter, bulging with his winnings. "Put the heaviest stuff in together and load it into this," he shoved his empty duffel bag to the man. "You sell clothes and stuff too?"

"Round the back," the man nodded.

"Good," Logan nodded.

He went down an aisle of toiletries. His own choices were easy, and then he stood contemplating the rest. Finally he started opening and smelling at random. "Fruit or flowers," he whispered. "Ah to hell with it." He took a bottle of each and slammed them to the counter.

"For you?"

Logan snarled, "No." He added several bars of soap. "Clothes in back right?"

The man nodded.

"You got stuff for girls?"

Another nod.

"Know anything about sizes?"

"A little."

"She's wearing clothes too big. She hasn't been eating. Better to get the same size or smaller?"

"Anorexia," the man shook his head. "Nasty business. My sister's littlest had it. Nothin' we did could convince her she was thin. My advice is buy the size she should be in. A few weeks of pullin' her pants up'll make her eat."

Logan nodded.

"How old is she?"

"Sixteen."

The man bit his lip, "You're gonna need a few other things. Just get her?"

Logan nodded.

"My brother did that. Found out he had a kid when she was fourteen. Blew him away let me tell you. You go look at the clothes. I'll pull a few more things." The man continued to talk as he rounded the corner. "Clothes are round that way. Also got linens and such."

Logan walked back. He flipped through the jeans piled on a table until he found a few in both of their sizes. He added shirts, socks, thermals, and a new pair of boots for each of them. Taking the man's advice he grabbed sizes matching what Marie was wearing now. He went back to the front to find the man depositing a few things he'd never thought of. Besides the feminine needs, he'd added a brush and comb, a small mirror, and a small flowered bag. He returned to the back and grabbed towels. After touching them, he set back his first choices and pulled through to find a softer selection. He was on his way back when he spotted the dress. It was forest green trimmed in black. Long sleeved, heavy cotton, and to the floor. It was feminine without being frilly. The only one left, and it was in her size. He shook himself and moved on.

A minute later he reached out and snatched the dress, breaking the hanger.

The clerk was still happily jabbering on as he helped Logan pack the supplies into his duffel. He added the milk, lunchmeat, and bread in last. Logan paid and went back into the snow.

The long hared man was still standing outside of his room when Logan strode up to the motel room door. Logan nodded as he passed and quietly let himself into the room. He flew back out a minute later.

"MARIE!"

"You lookin' for the little girl?"

Logan turned, hackles raised, "Where is she?"

"Took off about a half hour ago. You steal her from her momma?"

Logan advanced on him, "Her momma threw her away. Where. Did. She. Go?" The man sat his cup down, "Left. Asked for the way to the highway."

"Highway is right," Logan snarled.

"Yep. Wasn't sure if she should be goin' off. Figured I'd wait and see what your story was."

Logan growled and turned to stomp into the snow. The wind made it impossible to follow her tracks, but it easily carried her scent to him. He started to run.

Marie walked with her head tucked low. She'd been walking a long time. She thought sure the highway would be closer then this. She curled herself in tighter. She should've run last night. After that thing jumped out of the woods and attacked Logan. But she hurt. And he seemed so strong.

She was so deep in thought she didn't hear the pounding footsteps until they were almost upon her. She started to run without looking back. But he was much faster. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up. She wrestled and managed to get him off balance. They rolled down a small embankment. She kicked him hard. And managed to yank free and whirl to face her attacker.

"Where in the HELL do you think you're going?" Logan snarled. He sat back rubbing his leg where she'd kicked

She blinked in shock. "I... I thought you'd left."

He sat for a moment and simply looked at her. His stiff form slumped. "I'm sorry. I never thought. Guess I didn't give you any reason to think otherwise." He rose and extended a gloved hand.

She stared at it then up at him. Her lower lip quivered and she allowed him to pull her to her feet. Once there, he pulled her into an embrace. He cupped the back of her head through the hood of her coat and pressed her cheek to his chest. "I'll take care of you. I won't leave you. Ever."

A shudder passed through her slender form and the dam burst. She began to sob against his chest. He simply held her.

A few moments later the sound of a motorcycle reached them. Logan snatched her bag and pushed her behind him. The cycle pulled up with the man from the motel.

"Found her, heh?"

Logan nodded.

"Thought you might need a ride back to the motel. The bike'll only hold two. So I..."

"We'll walk," Logan interrupted.

"Can I offer?"

"No," the growl was low. Dangerous.

"Look pal," the man glared. He kicked down the stand and stood as another rumble was heard approaching.

Logan shoved Marie back and took on a fighting stance.

The man held up his hands. "Hey. I know. You don't have any reason to trust me. But I did tell you where to find her. You know how to ride one of theses?"

Logan nodded.

"Good," the man nodded. "My buddy there'll drive me back. All I ask is that you take it easy on the ice." He strode back to the other biker. "By the way, the name's Jake. This here's Hank. Heard about your action last night. Damn good fight. About time somebody shook that place up."

Logan straightened and reached back for Marie's hand. He led her to the bike.

"I've never ridden one before," she whispered as he lifted her on.

He nodded and climbed on. Jake reached out a hand and took Marie's bag. Logan nodded his appreciation. "Put your arms around my waist and hold on. Lean when I do." He tried very hard not to react as she pressed herself against his back.

When they arrived back at the motel, Marie was grinning broadly.

"That was so cool," she gushed.

"So glad you enjoyed it because you are never EVER getting on one again,"

Logan replied. Jake and Hank chuckled. Logan accepted the bag from Jake.

"Thanks for the help."

Jake nodded, "There's another bar a few miles northwest of here. Fights there pay some good cash if you're interested."

"Maybe," Logan said.

Hank pulled out a sheet of paper from his jacket. "Place is called the Pine Bluff Tavern. Directions are on the back." His voice lowered, "Not a real good place for the little one."

Logan nodded, "Thanks again." He shook both of their hands.

Marie waved as they rode off. "They were nice."

"Marie, inside, you and I have to have a talk."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't start."

"Get. Inside. Now." She went in and he followed, slamming the door so hard the paint chipped off of the frame. He threw her bag onto the bed.

She felt the first twinge of fear and she back away. "You can't touch me."

"I'm not going to touch you. Though a good spanking might do you some good."

"I told you that I thought you'd left."

"Yes. But did you have to strike up a conversation with the first scumbag you ran into?"

Marie went to the bed and sat down. "I didn't. I just asked where the highway was."

"Yeah and he sent you in the wrong direction. God how long have you been on the road? An hour in should have told you who to talk to and who not to!"

He ripped off his jacket and hurled it into the wall. "A man like that could easily follow you into the woods, rape you, kill you, and be on his way in a heartbeat."

Her chin came up, her eyes became haughty, "He could try."

"He could do."

She shook her head. "He couldn't touch me. No one can touch me."

He reached out and grabbed her by the coat. "NO?"

In a flash she was flipped over and on her stomach with his hands at her waistband. "He would be inside of you before you could scream."

"And then he would be dying."

"Not quickly enough."

She began to shake. Tears streamed out to the sheets.

"Ah hell," he swore and yanked her up. He pressed her to his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But the thought of you...." He broke off.

"Why do you care?"

"I haven't got a clue, kid." He rubbed her hair. "Not a clue."

He was sitting and watching her sleep. He'd heated up the soup over her protests for something more substantial. He'd discovered that it had been months since she'd had a full meal and wasn't ready for the results of feeding her anything other then chicken broth. He figured they'd work their way up to steak. After eating barely a cup full, she'd curled up in the chair, warm and full, and fallen to sleep. She started awake when he lifted her but stayed limp as he settled her into the bed. She'd rolled over onto her stomach and fallen into a deep sleep before he could even cover her up.

So now he was sitting and watching her sleep, studying the way her back rose and fell as she breathed. The way her fingers curled around the edge of the pillow. The way her eyelashes rested against the dark shadows marring her perfect porcelain skin.

He was turning into a wuss.

Four days later -

Marie made one last circuit of the small room. It wasn't likely that they'd left anything behind; they didn't have that much to start with. She went into the bathroom. There on the tub sat two of the bottles he'd purchased for her. One shampoo, one conditioner. She froze at the sight. She'd left them deliberately. But she really shouldn't. She shouldn't expect him to buy things for her to waste.

She reached out a trembling hand.

"I thought you were through packing."

She jerked and her hand knocked the bottles to the floor.

"Kid? You OK?"

"Fine," she nodded and reached for the bottles.

He picked up the shampoo; "You haven't used these, have you?"

She shook her head as she stood with the conditioner in her hand.

He flipped open the cap and took a deep sniff, "Don't like it?" He held it out to her and she flinched from the scent. "Kid? Do you not like this kind?"

She bit her lip and lifted her eyes; "It smells like my momma's perfume and I just...."

He groaned and snapped the bottle closed. He snatched the conditioner from her hand and slammed both bottles into the trashcan.

"Don't," she protested. "That's wasteful. I can use it."

He grasped her firmly by her arms. "Marie. It's a couple dollars a bottle. We'll find something you like."

"But..."

"Marie," he sighed. "You deserve to have things you like. But I don't know what they are. So you have to tell me. Tell me when you need something. Tell me when you don't like something. OK?"

"OK," she replied. He released her and strode out of the bathroom. "Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I hate the smell of cigars."

He turned back, "Tough."

He walked ahead of her carrying his bag. She followed quietly carrying her own. The wind shifted and carried the pungent odor of his cigar back to her. She coughed. He took a long deep puff and blew another cloud out deliberately. Then he turned to see her reaction. She had screwed up her face and lifted a gloved hand to cover her nose.

He cursed and snubbed the cigar on a nearby tree.

She smiled her thanks.

He just cursed himself under his breath. He was so becoming a wuss.

A truck approached and he stuck out his thumb. The eighteen-wheeler slowed to a stop and they jogged up to it. A friendly face smiled down. "Where you two headed?"

Logan hefted their bags behind the seat. "Wherever." He lifted Marie up and scrambled behind. He settled her into his lap as the heated interior chased away the chill.

They pulled into the town mid afternoon. The trucker stopped in front of a small but well kept hotel.

"Been here before," the trucker advised. "Hotel is real nice. There's a grocery store about a block and a half down. Between the two are a laundry and a deli with great breakfasts. You two take care now!"

Logan nodded his thanks as he slid out of the seat. He hefted both bags to his back before lifting Marie down.

Logan unlocked the door. The hotel was nice inside. The room was spacious and held a king size bed as well as a small sitting area with a television.

There was a small refrigerator in one corner.

"I'm going to see what's around," Logan advised. "Grab us some food. Ask around about work. You settle in."

She nodded and carried the bags to the bed.

He was careful to lock the door behind himself.

Marie was sitting on the sofa in front of the television when he returned. He sat a grocery bag on the table.

"What did you find?"

"Got a job with a farmer who needs lumber cleared. Should only last a day or two but pays good."

"What about me?"

"You'll stay here. I booked the room for four days." He rubbed his face.

"I got supplies and two take out dinners from the deli." He reached for her and she flinched. "Hey, what was rule number one?"

"You're not going to hurt me," she whispered, her eyes looking to the side.

"Right," he stepped forward and pushed a lock of her hair out of her face.

He laid a hand on her head and left it there for a long moment. "Hungry?" he asked after a long silence.

She nodded.

"Good, you like chicken?"

"Love it."

It hadn't been intentional.

OK that was a lie. It had been entirely planned. Premeditated.

He'd first tried it when she was asleep. But either the intensity of her mutation or just the time on the road made her hyper sensitive. And he didn't like waking her up. So he did it when she was awake.

Touching.

After the first time her power had overwhelmed him, he learned the signs. He felt the instant it began to pull at him. So he'd touch until it did, then release her. It took a little time, but soon he noticed that it took longer and longer for the pull to begin. So he began to mentally keep track. It was a week later and the first time he was able to hold on for five minutes she realized it and confronted him. So they started to physically keep track. And they discovered if they both focused on it, they could keep her mutation at bay for an hour. Then two. Then it got easier. Not as much attention was needed.

Their experimenting ended when he held on to her for a day and a half without any reaction. Actually it ended when she told him if he didn't let her go to the bathroom by herself she would scream.

So after six weeks, he could touch her.

He of unknown age or origin could touch a sixteen-year-old girl.

He and he alone.

It was the closest to happiness he could ever remember feeling.

It was also when he began to be damn sure that every motel room they checked into had two separate beds.

And when he decided it was time to get back into fighting.

They moved on regularly. With the money from clearing lumber from a few more farms, he was able to buy an old truck cheap. They drove back to Laughlin City and picked up his trailer from where he'd hid it after his camper burned. After that they headed northwest for the bar he'd heard about. One where mutants and non mixed regularly. And the one where the nightly fights could pay up to five thousand dollars to the winner.

Hidden in the trees stood a creature. He stood tall and sniffed the air. He'd found them again. He'd been forced to stay there to recover from the fight and now they were passing right by. Sometimes fate smiled.

Northern Alberta Canada

The cabin was very small. Just the one bedroom and bath, and a living room/dining room/kitchen in front. The owner of the Pine Bluff Tavern was renting the small cabin to them. Mickey, as everyone called him, didn't believe they were father and daughter for a second. But he was very impressed by Wolverine in the ring so he hadn't pushed much. His wife was a huge barrel of a woman who cooked like a dream. Thanks to her, Marie had put on a few pounds in the two weeks since their arrival.

Logan glanced up as Marie walked through the living room. "Where you going?"

"To get dressed," she replied as she disappeared into the bedroom.

"Why?"

"Mickey said he'd give me a job."

"Doing WHAT?" Logan rose

"Waitressin'"

"Over my dead and rotting corpse," he snarled. He immediately had flashed on an image of Marie dressed in the skimpy dress that Mickey's usual waitresses wore. They spent as much time evading drunken hands as serving drinks in the Pine Bluff Tavern.

She whirled on him, "Why not?"

"Because..." he stumbled for a reason. "Because I said so."

"And who elected you king of the world?"

"I did," he retorted. "And when you're twenty one and old enough to vote, we'll have a recount."

"Voting age is eighteen."

"In the US. We're in Canada."

"Canada doesn't vote," she reminded.

"Then you're pretty much shit outta luck, ain't ya?"

He relented, as she knew he would. With the condition that she only worked when he could be right there. Mickey was told that she'd wear her own clothes, clothes that Logan purchased of course. But thankfully he didn't try to find a nun's habit. And she was able to start contributing to their survival.

One week later -

Pine Bluff Tavern

Scott Summers stepped into the bar cautiously. He knew that while outside his visor was not so obvious. Rumors suggested that he wouldn't be the only mutant inside, but the rumors could be just that. But one quick glance around revealed quite a few mutants mixed in with non-mutants. Or at least those who could pass as non. He barely got a second glance from anyone and decided it was more that he was a new face that attracted the attention. He walked over to the bar and sat down.

"What'll it be?"

"Beer, whatever's on tap."

His gaze was pulled instantly to the ring built into the center of the bar. The bar itself was dark and dingy surrounding what was little more then a dirt pit surrounded by a chain link fence. The pit was set about a foot lower then the floor. The actual "bar" ran along one wall with dilapidated tables scattered on the opposite side. In all, it presented a very dismal image.

A dismal image that was interrupted by an angel. She walked out of the back behind the bar and proceeded over to wipe down the tables. She was dressed in a long-sleeve gray dress that swept the floor in back. Her long brown hair was pulled up in a plastic clip in one of the hairstyles reserved for the young. Very young, way too young to be walking into the place, much less working there.

Scott turned as his beer was placed on the bar. He was just about to say something about the girl when a drunk at the opposite end of the bar let out a whistle.

"Hey there sweetie, come over here and make an old man happy!"

The bartender didn't look up from the glass he was wiping, "Wouldn't do that if I were you, stranger."

"Why? She yours?"

"Nope. She's his." The bartender jerked his chin in Scott's direction. It took Scott a second to get over his shock and to realize that there was someone standing behind him. He turned to see a brawny man leaning nonchalantly against the fence. The man had a half-smoked cigar between his lips.

The drunk slid off the stool and swaggered over. "Maybe I'm meanin' to make her mine."

The man took a long drag off of the cigar and gave the drunk a slow blink in response.

At that moment the girl finished the tables and started around the ring. The man took the cigar out of his mouth and held it away from himself with one arm while pulling the girl to his side with the other. His eyes left the drunk to smile down at her. The drunk seemed suddenly sober as he took advantage of what he perceived as a distraction. He lunged forward with his bottle. Scott focused on the bottle and flipped up his visor. The bottle shattered in a sudden burst of heat. The drunk staggered back as the man twisted to shelter the girl from the glass.

The drunk snarled at Scott and the man alike. He reached out a hand towards the girl.

Within a breath, he was against the fence, his feet two feet off of the ground, gasping for air as the man's hand clenched his throat.

"Don't touch her." The words were ironically soft and low.

The drunk's eyes began to bulge.

"Wolverine, fightin's done in the ring," the bartender said as he continued to wipe glasses.

"Whatta ya say pal," Wolverine smiled around his cigar. "Want to face me in the ring?"

The drunk's face was turning a bright red, "No," he managed to sputter.

"Didn't think so," he replied and dropped the drunk. "Now what did we learn from this?"

"Don't touch," the drunk choked, rubbing his neck.

"Smart man," Scott observed.

Wolverine glanced at him and nodded, "My thoughts exactly." His gaze went back to the girl. "OK, kid?"

She just nodded as she watched the man scurry away.

Scott turned back to the bar and his drink, but his attention was on the pair behind him.

"Ready to eat, kid?" Wolverine murmured.

"Not hungry," she whispered in response.

"It's almost five," the bartender observed. "Better take her down to Gladys for dinner."

"I'm not hungry," the girl repeated more loudly.

"Like I care," Wolverine chuckled. "Let's go."

"Know a good place?" Scott asked.

"You here for the fights?" the bartender asked.

Scott nodded.

"Gladys has the best home cookin' this side of the border," Wolverine replied from the doorway where he was slipping a coat over the girls' shoulders. "Come on."

Scott dropped a few bill onto the bar to cover the beer and followed the pair. He smiled at the girl who offered a quick, shy smile, then ducked her head.

"My name's Scott. I go by Cyclops," Scott offered his hand.

"Wolverine. I go by Wolverine," was the response with a pointed ignorance of the hand.

"And you?" Scott asked.

"Rogue," she said softly. Her foot slipped on a patch of ice. Wolverine had her arm before she even tried to catch herself.

Scott was abandoned as soon as they entered the deli. An enormously round woman swept across the floor to the girl. Gladys, he presumed, fluttered over the girl as Wolverine hung her coat on a hook. He observed that for all her hand gestures and movements, Gladys never laid a finger on the girl. Rogue, she'd called herself. She urged the little one into a seat and pushed a bowl of soup in front of her. She made sure the girl started to eat before even acknowledging Wolverine's presence. It was several more minutes before Scott himself was led to a table.

Scott ate heartily. The food was delicious. Then he rose and wandered back to the bar for the fights. He'd made first contact but needed to get to know this Wolverine. He needed to know why Magneto wanted him so badly that he'd banished Sabertooth until the feral mutant could produce him.

Logan escorted Marie through the bar. The regulars knew better then to even look at her too hard. There were few strangers in tonight. He caught sight of Cyclops off to one side. But he was focused. He put Marie into her usual seat at the end of the bar, just behind the edge of the ring. There he could see her from the ring and Mickey was close by. And if need be he could be at her side in seconds.

Lizard smiled as Logan made his way into the ring. Lizard's mutation was one of the most obvious Logan had encountered. His skin had patches of bright green scales and his eyes were slanted like a snake. But Lizard was a showman. So Mickey hired him as announcer.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Lizard called into the microphone. "Our resident champion has entered the ring. Give it up for The Wolverine."

The crowd went wild. They were a bloodthirsty group. Not happy until someone was choking on the dirt of the ring. That's why they loved him. Anyone who walked into that ring to fight The Wolverine was likely being carried out.

He began to stretch and warm up a bit. The women in the crowd yelled. He caught Marie's Mona Lisa smile. She'd told him that she'd overheard a few women commenting how animalistic he was and that they seemed very interested. He winked at her.

Then he began to concentrate. Time to let the animal out. He arched his neck. The roar of the crowd intensified, as did the adrenaline pumping through him.

"Our latest challenger calls himself..."

The noises faded as a scent reached him. He turned his head, nostrils flaring as he tried to identify and locate it. It was familiar somehow. He was distracted when the first blow slammed into his side.

Scott made his way through the crowd. He'd seen the distraction in Wolverine, and his own senses were perked. Something was wrong. He wasn't sure what, but he was determined to be next to the little girl when whatever shit it was hit the fan.

He didn't have long to wait. The fight was intense. He reached Rogue just as she visibly flinched. He turned back to realize Wolverine was down and the challenger, some big brute of a man, was stalking around the ring, his arms thrown in the air in apparent victory. He flipped the hissing crowd both fingers. Then he turned and bent over the prone Wolverine. Scott was close enough to hear him as he spoke.

"After I finish with you, think I'll have a go at your little sweetheart."

Logan's eyes flew open.

"Oh, shit," Mickey groaned. He gestured to Lizard.

Scott turned, "What?"

"Gonna need a body bag for that one," Mickey shrugged. "Kid, go into the back."

"I want to stay," she replied. "I'm going to stay."

Scott turned back to the ring as Logan drew himself to his knees. The challenger threw a punch straight for Wolverine's head. Wolverine caught his hand easily. It sounded like a fist hitting pure metal. The challenger shuddered as the force of the blow rebounded through his body. He snarled and threw another. Wolverine caught it. He pressed the man's hands outward, keeping them firm in his grasp. When the man's face came close enough to Wolverine's he whispered one word.

"Mine."

And that's when things got really interesting.

The fight continued in the ring, but it was obvious that the challenge would soon be finished. The man was stumbling from each blow and was barely able to retaliate.

Then people in the crowd began to cry out. And a man suddenly flew into the fence from the outside.

Scott whirled. "Sabertooth."

Wolverine turned and caught sight of him. He let the limp form of the challenger fall to the ground.

Sabertooth reached up and ripped open the fence. Wolverine dragged the limp man to the gate and handed him out to Lizard. Then he turned to face the intruder.

"I knew there'd be another time!" Wolverine growled.

Sabertooth chuckled low in his throat and attacked.

Scott glanced at the girl. Her eyes were wide in her pale face. And she was shaking. He reached a hand towards her and she flinched violently. She looked at him and slid off of the barstool to move closer to the ring.

Logan's sole focus was one the monster in front of him. He was doing a lot better without trees and a truck to be slammed into. He was tossed to one side. He caught himself on one knee and his knuckles and he paused. He let the animal in him fully emerge and lifted his head to growl. Then threw himself into the fight snarling and biting.

The fence began to tremble under the force of the two mutants throwing each other into it. People began to move back. Then with one slam, the entire fence on one side collapsed and the combatants rolled into the crowd. The customers scattered. Then Sabertooth lifted Wolverine up over his head and threw him. Wolverine crashed through the crowd on the opposite side.

"LOGAN!" Rogue screamed.

Scott grabbed hold of her arm. She tried to yank free, so he grabbed her around the waist. "It's OK," he soothed. "He's getting up."

Then he smelled it. Smoke. He turned and realized that the scattering crowd had shattered bottles of beer and liquor on the floor. A small fire had started somehow. A small fire that was rapidly consuming the alcohol soaked wooden floor.

"FIRE," he yelled. "Everybody out!"

Rogue took advantage and yanked free. In a heartbeat she was slipping behind the ring, intent on reaching Wolverine. Scott cursed under his breath and followed her.

Wolverine and Sabertooth fought on, seeming oblivious to the growing fire. The onlookers were beating a hasty retreat.

Suddenly the fire raced up a beam and across the ceiling. Scott jerked back as hot sparks began dropping onto them. Parts of the roof began to collapse.

"LOGAN!" came another fearful cry.

Wolverine and Scott saw it at the same instant. Part of the back wall had fallen forward, blocking Rogue's exit from behind the ring. Scott reached her and pulled her back against his chest.

Sabertooth rose, smiling. He reached back and upended several tables spilling the alcohol into the already raging fire. Then he blew a kiss in Wolverine's direction and threw himself through the side wall.

Scott was growing desperate; burning wood, behind by raging fire forward blocked the way. Wolverine leapt the fence back into the cage and went to them. Snick. Claws shot out from his fists and sliced through the fence. He reached out and snatched Rogue from Scott's grasp. He lifted her to his chest and wrapped her legs around his waist. He tucked her face to his neck and pulled her hood up over her head.

"You coming?" He asked Scott.

"Figured we'd go this way," Scott replied. He turned and now that they were safely away from the wall, he was able to blast through it with a controlled beam from his eyes. He leapt through followed instantly by Wolverine.

They ran away from the burning structure, but were still too close when it reached the propane tank on the side. The blast tossed them into the air.

Scott sat up and groaned. "I'm gonna feel that tomorrow." He glanced around. Wolverine was lying on his back with Rogue sprawled next to him.

Scott reached down to where Rogue lay in the snow. He froze as a snick came at his ear.

"Don't touch her," Wolverine snarled. He had one claw extended at the man's neck.

"I wasn't going to hurt her," Scott said, hands up.

"No. You weren't going to touch her." Wolverine glowered until he sat back. "Kid?" Wolverine said, keeping a blade at Scott's throat.

"Ow," she moaned.

Wolverine smiled. "You OK, kid?"

"Terrific," she replied sitting up slowly with his help. She looked at Scott, "You know that guy?"

"A little. Goes by the name Sabertooth."

"Oh," she nodded.

"It's a long story," Scott added.

"You can tell us in the morning," Wolverine rose and lifted Rogue to her feet. "Trying to save her rates you a spot on the floor, I guess."

"Not even the couch?" Scott quipped.

"Couch is mine," was the growled reply.

Logan lay on the couch listening to the sounds of the night. The man -Cyclops - was on the floor on the blankets offered to him. And he was awake. In the dark, his visor glowed bright red with a pattern of darkening when he blinked. Soon though the red dimmed and the man's breathing slowed.

Only then did Logan let himself relax. He drifted off to sleep, but his senses focused for any sign of danger.

A few hours later the silence was broken by a hoarse cough. Logan sat up. Cyclops was still asleep, now with his head tilted slightly back and his mouth open. The cough came again.

Logan rose and went into the bedroom. Marie was sitting up in bed, her face flushed.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I was trying to be quiet."

"It's OK," he replied and sat down on the bed.

"I don't feel so good," she admitted.

"What's wrong?" Cyclops asked from the doorway.

Logan was holding her forehead, "She's sick. She's got a fever."

"It may be from the smoke," he replied approaching the bed. "Is there a doctor in town?"

Logan shrugged, "We can't take her to one anyway."

"Why not?"

"And say what? Here, fix her but don't touch her."

Scott opened his mouth but Rogue interrupted, "My skin's poison."

"It is NOT poison," Logan snapped.

"She's a mutant?" gasped Scott in shock.

"SO?" Logan turned. "So are you One-Eye. So am I."

"So is the doctor where I come from. It's a school in Upstate New York. It is for mutants."

Logan seemed unconvinced until the next barrage of coughing left Marie too weak to sit up and gasping for breath. "How fast can we get there?"

Scott grinned, "I have a plane stashed close by. I'll be right back."

Scott lowered the jet slowly and gently into its holding area under the school. Behind him Wolverine was gnashing his teeth in frustration. Rogue had passed out before they could even take off and now lay limp in Wolverine's arms. Her fever was skyrocketing. He'd called ahead and Jean, Storm, and the professor were waiting just beyond the landing bay.

Jean advanced as they emerged from the jet.

"Don't touch her," Wolverine snarled.

Jean raised her hands, "Gloves. Let me see her." She touched her face and flinched at the heat radiating out from her. "Let's get her to the infirmary."

Logan stirred to wakefulness. He was sitting next to an infirmary bed with his head resting on his arms. Marie's hand was twined into his.

He sensed another presence and lifted his head just in time to see a cloth float across the bed to the doctor's waiting hand. The beautiful doctor's exquisite hand.

"Anyone here not a mutant?"

"No," she smiled. "How are you feeling Logan? Any aftereffects of the fire?"

"I heal fast," he smirked. "How'd you know my name is Logan?"

"She's been asking for you," she nodded to Marie.

Marie stirred just then, "Logan?" she whispered.

Logan leaned over Marie, "I'm here kiddo." He caressed her cheek and she calmed.

"How long you two been together?"

His gaze flew to the beautiful face, "We're not together."

"I didn't..."

"Ah, you are awake," a voice spoke in a distinct British accent.

Logan turned to see a man in a wheelchair moving into the room. Behind him strode Cyclops and a lithe black woman with silver hair.

"How is she?"

"I think it's the flu," the doctor reported. "Like Scott said."

Logan whirled, "You knew what it was?"

Cyclops shrugged, "Figured. She was coughing a bit in the diner and wasn't hungry."

Logan felt the animal rise in him.

"Logan," the doctor said.

We needed you to come

Logan shuddered as the voice echoed into his head. "What the hell was that?"

"You aren't the only one with strong mutations," the professor smiled. "Let me make the introductions. I am Professor Charles Xavier. This is Doctor Jean Grey. Behind me is Ororo Monroe also known as Storm. And you've met Scott Summers also known as Cyclops. And you are Logan."

"More well known as Wolverine," Cyclops said. "Reigning champion of the Canadian bar-fight circuit. And currently the target of one rampaging Sabertooth."

"Why did I need to come?" Logan asked.

It's been fifteen years, hasn't it Logan?

Logan blinked slowly, deliberately.

The professor nodded, "We need to know why Magneto is so desperate to get you."

"What's a Magneto?"

After a tour and some major promises from the professor to help him recover his past, Logan agreed to remain at the school for forty-eight hours so that the team could research his mutation and a possible reason for Magneto's interest. If the professor was a strong a psychic as he seemed to be, he knew that if Marie wasn't sick, he'd have left already. But she was. And it would be more then two days before she was able to travel anywhere.

So he forced himself to endure a thorough exam from the gorgeous Doctor Grey. And sat next to Marie as she slowly recovered from her bout with the flu. She seemed content enough to be there, so he was in no real rush.

Forty-eight hours turned into seventy-two.

And before he knew it a week had passed.

Logan was wandering the halls of the school when the professor called into his mind. He scowled and stalked into the man's office.

"I really don't like your method of paging," he snapped.

"You'll get used to it," Scott replied. He sat next to Jean, her hand firmly in his. Storm stood off to one side.

Logan dropped into the seat on Jean's opposite side and gave her a grin.

"Wouldn't mind it so much if it was you doing the calling."

Jean ducked her head and blushed. Scott's nostrils flared.

"Enough," Xavier smiled. "Logan I've found out a few things."

"Bout old magnet dude?"

"No, rather your young companion," he slid a file across his desk. "Marie St. Claire. Youngest child and only daughter of Anna Marie and Henry St. Claire of Meridian Mississippi. Two older brothers. Oldest died in a car accident at the age of sixteen. He was driving while intoxicated. The other disappeared a year later. He has established residency in California. Marie disappeared nine months ago after an incident in which a young boy fell into an inexplicable coma."

"He kissed her," Logan supplied. He was flipping through pictures of a much younger Marie. At a school dance, at a ball game, at a community service clean up. Then a school photo taken not long ago. The same face but eyes decades younger and more innocent.

"How long has she been with you?"

"About two months," Logan slammed the file closed. "Her father threw her out. She was only fifteen." He stood up and crossed to the window.

"Rogue's mutation enables her to absorb the life force out of anyone she touches. Or rather anyone whose bare skin comes into contact with hers," Jean supplied. "With mutants, she absorbs their mutation for a short time."

"I can testify to that," Logan snorted. Jean's gaze flew to him, "I thought you were immune."

"I am now," he replied. "The day we met, we were in a serious car accident. I didn't know she was hurt until it was almost too late. I touched her and she absorbed my ability to heal. Thank God she did."

"So then you were immune?" Scott asked.

"No. I built it up slowly. Holding on until it started to kick in. Eventually it stopped kicking," he advised.

"How long was the longest you were able to hold on?" Jean asked writing in a legal pad.

"Thirty seven and a half hours," Logan said. "Give or take a few minutes."

"And then it started?"

"No," he grinned. "Then she said if I didn't let her go she would start screaming."

The group shared a laugh.

"Storm," the professor said. "You have something to add?"

The mysterious woman stepped forward, "I don't know if it has anything to do with her mutation, but she absorbs information like a sponge. I ran some general tests and she scored off the charts. I gave her a book on atmospheric phenomena and asked her to read it. She was able to answer anything I asked based on her reading. She's amazing."

Logan smiled proudly, "She reads constantly."

"As long as she's going to be here, I'd like to put her in classes," Jean suggested. "That is if you're planning to continue to stay."

Logan nodded, "I might be able to be convinced."

Jean rose before Scott could start; "In that case I'll leave you for the professor to convince."

"There is something else about Rogue," Logan hesitated. The others turned.

"She doesn't just absorb powers. She absorbs everything."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked.

"Well she's had a few of my speech patterns ever since."

"That could be environmental," Jean advised.

"And my nightmares," Logan finished.

"Oh."

"Why can't I go?"

He sighed, deep from his chest, "I'll only be a day or two."

They were standing in the foyer of the school. Marie stood with her arms crossed in a classic defensive posture. Her serious brown eyes stared up at him. "Then why can't I just go with you?"

Logan pulled her into a firm embrace, "I need to go pick up our stuff. And check out Mickey and Gladys. And you need to rest."

She rested her head just above his heart. "You're coming back, right?"

He took her face in his hands and tipped it up, "I am never going to leave you. Ever." He kissed her forehead. "I'll be back in two days."

Scott cleared his throat, "We ready?"

"Yeah," Logan nodded and pulled away from Marie.

"You have the papers you'll need to get back into the country," Xavier asked him.

Logan patted his jacket pocket, "Right here."

Jean moved forward as Scott and Logan walked out of the mansion. She laid a hand on Rogue's shoulder only to have her flinch and move away.

Xavier reached out, don't rush her. Aloud he said, "Rogue, lunch is being served in the cafeteria."

The girl nodded and walked away.

Scott awoke just after midnight. He'd flown the jet back up to the ruins of the Pine Bluff Inn and dropped Logan off. Then he'd flown back just in time for dinner. He figured Logan would arrive sometime later the next day. Then he heard the front door slam. He was on his feet and down the steps before the muttered cursing reached his ears.

"Didn't stay long," Scott commented.

Logan looked up, "Nope." He tossed a duffel bag over his shoulder. "Talked to Mickey. Packed. Hit the road." He walked passed Scott.

"Rogue is in your room, asleep I hope," Scott offered as he followed the man up to the rooms.

Logan quietly turned the knob and stepped into the room. He scowled as he saw Marie lying on her back and clad in a sheer body stocking under a nightgown.

"What's that?"

Scott sighed, "Better safe then sorry and all that."

"She's not comfortable," Logan growled.

"How can you know that?"

"For one she's on her back. Damnit I've spent a long time convincing her she's not a freak of nature and one night alone here and she..."

"Lower your voice," Jean whispered harshly. "There are children asleep just down the hall." She wrapped her arms around herself as she stood in her doorway.

Logan snarled at her and stalked over to the bed. "Kid?"

Marie stirred and opened her eyes. "You're back," she murmured.

"Yeah. Sit up," he pulled her into a seated position. He slid the nightgown up over her hips and reached up underneath for the back zipper of the bodysuit. "Pull your arms from the sleeves," he ordered. She did so sluggishly, still mostly asleep. He quickly divested her of the bodysuit.

"I need that," she whispered as she pushed her arms back into the nightgown.

"No you don't," he replied. He kissed her forehead and laid her back down. She promptly rolled over onto her stomach.

He walked to the door with the bodysuit in hand. He held it up in front of Jean and Scott and neatly shredded it into pieces. "Good night," he whispered and shut the door quietly.

Jean sighed and picked up the fabric pieces. She and Scott walked down the hall to their room. She was absently wrapping the fabric around her hand when she stopped and looked at it.

"What?" Scott asked.

"It itches," she replied. She slid her naked arm into one sleeve. "I mean really itches."

Scott sighed, "Why didn't she say, hey this thing itches?"

"I don't know. Why didn't one of ask her?"

Logan wondered if they knew that he could hear them. The vent on one wall must lead directly to theirs. He was lying on his back with Marie curled against his chest.

"Why didn't you tell them?"

Marie lifted her head, "I thought you thought I was asleep."

He smiled, "I know the rhythm of your heart. I can tell."

"Oh," she laid her head back down.

"So, why?"

"I'll tell you, if you tell me why you came back so fast."

He remained silent. Then his hand came up and he rubbed her head until she actually fell asleep. But sleep remained elusive for him.

Five days later - late evening

The school was quiet as Jean walked down the hall stretching her neck. Scott and Logan were downstairs watching a ball game of one kind or another. When she wasn't around, they actually seemed to get along. Bantering sure, but not confrontational. But the minute she walked into the room, the testosterone level rose significantly. She wouldn't be surprised if they both started pawing the ground and snorting like a couple of bulls.

She heard a muffled sound and paused. It came again, but was still too soft to identify. She closed her eyes and reached out with her mind.

Images overlapping.

Fear.

She was so scared. Men. Cutting. Hurting.

So much pain.

Rogue shot forward gasping for air with her fist as though claws would emerge to defend her. When they didn't she stared at her hand in shock. Then she felt the presence over her and reacted instinctively. She launched from the bed and tackled the figure to the floor. They slid together into the corner and her hands slammed to the figure's neck and gripped bare skin.

A sound emerged from Rogue that was little more then a feral snarl.

Jean opened her mind to try to touch the child's.

And then it happened.

Jean had once been outside just before a tornado hit. She had been running for the shelter when she stopped for some reason. The air had been so hot and heavy. And then it all began to rush away from her. The vacuum.

She felt it. Felt everything within her rush out to the palm of the girl.

With the last ounce of herself she focused. SCOTT.

Scott shot forward from his slouched position on the couch. "Jean," he murmured. Then he leapt up with Logan on his heels.

The door slammed into the wall. Scott stood there, one hand on his visor. "JEAN!"

Rogue shuddered and came into full consciousness. She snatched her hand back.

"Get away from her. NOW!" Scott screamed.

"What in the hell?" Wolverine shoved passed him and grabbed Rogue around the waist.

"I didn't mean to," she whimpered.

"Jean? Jean?" Scott was leaning down. He scooped the doctor up into his arms. He turned, his visor a bright vivid red.

Rogue pulled away from Wolverine. "Don't touch me."

Logan turned and reached out, "Marie," he began soothingly.

"No," she screamed, "DON'T TOUCH ME." She slipped and fell.

Logan took another step forward. "Marie, darlin'."

"NO!" She scrambled back. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" She cowered in the corner of the room.

Wham. A force hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. He tried to move forward, but it was like hitting a solid shield. And it began to press him back towards the door.

"MARIE!"

She was huddled in the corner with her hands tangled in her hair. She was shaking violently. Then he was out the door and the door slammed shut in his face. The force was gone from his chest.

"MARIE!"

"Logan? What happened?" Storm came up from the opposite direction so she hadn't seen Jean and Scott.

"I don't know. Marie touched Jean. She was having a nightmare and Jean went in. Marie wakes up attacking from them." His sentences were disjointed as he repeatedly slammed his body into the door. "She touched her."

"Logan," Storm grabbed his shoulder, "Jean is a strong telekinetic. I don't think you are going to get through that door."

Logan stopped and rested his hands against the wood. "Marie? Baby can you hear me?"

The only response his super sensitive hearing detected was a repeated dull banging. And the sobs.

When she woke up, the last of the power had faded out. She was curled in a fetal ball on the floor, which told her that Logan hadn't returned. He wouldn't have left her on the floor. But then he was probably angry. She knew he was attracted to the pretty doctor.

Marie wandered out into the gardens. She found a stone bench and sat down to stare up at the school. She'd wanted so badly to fit in here. It was a chance to finish school. And everyone was so nice. Especially Dr. Grey and Storm. They seemed so understanding. And she'd ruined it all.

"I'm surprised to see you here," came a voice behind her.

She turned to see Bobby. He was a sweet boy. He'd made her an ice rose as a welcome to "Mutant High" on her first day in Ms. Monroe's class. The kids here were all mutants. So accepting. So different from the kids at her old school.

"Why?" she responded to his statement.

"Well I figured you'd be gone. I know I'd be with the professor that mad with me."

"The professor?"

"And everybody. They're saying you're stealing mutant's powers."

"No," she shook her head. "I only borrow them. And it was an accident."

"You NEVER use our power against another mutant. It's just wrong." Bobby shook his head. "Especially Dr. Grey. She works so hard for all of us."

Marie began to shake.

Bobby shook his head, "If I were Mr. Summers, I'd have killed you with my bare hands."

Marie stood up and began to walk. She walked up to the room she'd been given and threw a few things into her old beat up duffel bag. She purposefully left the things Logan had bought for her. Her hand rested on the back of the brush, comb, and mirror set he'd found in an antique store. He'd brought them to her after his first fight in the Pine Bluff Tavern. They were the most precious things she'd ever been given.

She turned and walked away leaving them on the dresser.

She saw Bobby watching her from the bench where she'd left him. His were the only eyes to see her leave. Unfortunately they weren't his eyes.

"Scott?"

Scott leapt to his feet, "Jean?"

She let out a low groan. "Ow."

"That's one way to put it," he smiled. "What possessed you to go in there? She could have killed you!"

"Scott it wasn't her fault," Jean protested. Her eyes flicked to the three others gathered in the room. "It wasn't!"

"We don't blame her," the professor assured. "Logan says she wakes up from the nightmares very disoriented and combative."

"So from now on we go in fully clothed," Scott smirked. "Except for Wolfy there. Since he's so immune and all."

"Thank you ever so much," Logan sneered.

"You are ever so welcome," Scott retorted.

"I am not strong enough for you two," Jean groaned. "Where is she anyway?"

"Well she inherited your strong telekinetic power," Scott reported. "Won't let anyone in the room."

"I'll go try again," Logan stood. "Good to see you better again, Red."

Jean nodded.

Scott and the professor waited until he exited.

"Are you sure you're OK?"

"Yes Scott. It was... interesting," Jean sat up. "It was like being in a total vacuum, with everything just flooding out of me. But I could sense the instant it started."

"So," Scott shrugged.

"So maybe more then just Logan could build an immunity," she replied.

"That may be worth exploring," the professor nodded. "At a later time. You need to rest. And I have an afternoon physics class waiting."

"Marie?" Logan entered the room cautiously. "Marie?" He sniffed. She'd been there, recently, and smelling of the outdoors. He turned and saw the hook on the door that had held her green coat, the empty hook.

"MARIE!"

"She's gone," Logan cried as he raced down the stairs passed Scott and Storm.

"Logan you can't go," the professor objected. "It's just the opportunity Magneto is waiting for. You said you'd stay at the school."

"I said for forty eight hours well over a week ago. I'm going," he snarled. "And I left once already."

"That was different," Xavier protested.

"Logan. You gave me your word," Jean added. She was up and about and seemed fully recovered. He turned, "I gave her my word first." And he strode out.

In the hall, Scott was talking to one of the schoolboys.

"Bobby, the security camera saw you two together at lunch in the garden," Scott said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the boy replied with a shrug. "I haven't seen her toda... HEY!"

The boy's statement ended in a shriek as Logan lifted him by the throat and slammed him into the wall.

"LOGAN!"

"Logan, put him down!"

"Not until he tells me what he did to Marie," Logan snarled to Jean and Scott.

"Nothing, I swear," the boy gasped.

"Mister?" a girl spoke up timidly. "Bobby was with us at lunch. None of us saw Rogue today."

"Are you sure?" Jean asked. "This is important."

The girl nodded, "We were all worried about her with what happened." She watched as Logan let Bobby slide to his feet. "It's not like it's the first time something like this has happened, but she doesn't know that. So we wanted to talk to her."

"It's not even the first time it's happened to me," Jean smiled. "I fondly remember Bobby there freezing my fingers a time or two."

The boy was breathing normally, but he flushed a violent red. "Sorry, Dr. Grey."

"Sorry kid," Logan said to the boy.

He nodded, "So if it wasn't me who was on the camera?"

"We'll figure that out when we get her back," Scott replied.

Train Station

He found her by smell alone. He strode down the train aisle until he was standing right behind her. Then he spoke.

"Hey kid," he said. "Running again?"

She shrugged and wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Marie," he started.

"When you gonna call me Rogue?"

"Just this side of never," he replied. "Your name is Marie."

She shook her head, "I'm not Marie. I never will be again."

He sighed, "Look Kid. It's OK."

"It's not!" She looked at him then. "I did a bad thing."

"It was an accident," he replied.

"It doesn't matter. I did it and everyone's mad at me. The professor's mad at me."

"Who told you that?"

"Bobby. A boy at school."

"And it never occurred for you to come get me?"

She shrugged, "Figured you were mad, too. You stayed away."

"Marie you wouldn't let anyone in the room. We tried. Repeatedly. Ole' One-Eye even tried to pick the lock. And Bobby wasn't Bobby."

"Huh?"

"Don't ask, I don't know. But the professor isn't mad. Jean is fine. She's actually intrigued by the whole thing. And you think everyone at the school came in with full control over their powers? Hell it sounds like Jean is the guinea pig for every new kid!" Logan pulled her to rest against his chest. "Look the professor seems like one of the good guys. And he honestly wants to help you. You have to admit that's rare for people like us." She looked up at him with those fathomless brown eyes. "So whatta ya say? Wanna give these geeks one more shot?"

She bit her lip, "I guess."

The train jerked forward. Marie straightened and looked around as they began to pull away from the station.

"OK. We'll get off at the next stop and go back. And Marie, if you don't like it there for ANY reason, you tell me. We'll head back to Canada."

"But you like it there, don't you?"

He shrugged, "It's kinda nice. Might be cool to stay in one place for more then a week. But it's entirely up to you, Marie."

"But..."

"Marie, I am never going to leave you," he said and laid a hand on her head. "You are the only good thing to EVER happen to me. And if I have to spend the rest of my life wandering around the wilds of Canada to make you happy, I'm gonna do it."

Tears slipped out of her eyes.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He rested his lips there for a long moment.

Then the train screeched to a halt.

He sat in the chair of the jet, clad in the dorky uniform of the so-called X-men. He grimaced and sliced his claws out through the gloves. The others sat around him, but his mind was focused on her. HER. His her. He'd failed. He'd promised to keep her safe and he'd failed. He'd promised never to let her go.

He'd been conscious when the dart shot from Magneto's hip into her neck, very aware as she collapsed. And totally helpless as they carried her away. He'd wanted to rip Xavier to shreds. First for the mistake in believing Magneto wanted him. Then for letting him get away with her. It didn't matter to him that a few policemen would have lost their lives. All that mattered to him was his Marie.

So now he was here in the jet, with the team, and in the uncomfortable, not-big-enough, hot costume. She'd laugh when she saw him. He hoped.

He didn't think anything could be worse then her screams.

Then her screams stopped.

Nothing would have stopped him from reaching her. He'd have sprouted metal wings if necessary.

But he reached her and it was too late. He destroyed the machine before it hurt all the precious politicians on the other island. But his precious Marie was limp and still. He cut her free and cradled her to his chest. She was not breathing. The rhythm of her heart was silent. The sound that had been his lullaby was no more.

He let out a mournful howl like that of a lone wolf. Desperate he yanked his gloves off with his teeth. He fought the urge to sob as he pressed his hand to her face. Why had he struggled to build immunity? WHY?

He focused. Hard. Trying to push everything into her.

Nothing.

No response.

He lifted her limp body to his chest, pressed her face to his neck. A solitary tear slipped from his eye and dropped to her forehead. He closed his eyes and concentrated.

There.

It started slowly. So slight he wasn't sure.

His eyes flew open and he felt it. The familiar sensation of slipping into a void. He felt the pain as his wounds reopened. And he pushed with all his might.

Joy in death. Death for her.

By the time Storm reached them, Logan was unconscious. And Rogue was sitting in the ruins of the machine, shaking violently. Storm reached for her but she scuttled back. She pointed at his limp form.

Storm nodded and pulled him to her. It wasn't so much as a flight as a controlled fall to get him to the others.

"Rogue, can you climb down? Can you use Magneto's power to climb?" Jean called up.

Rogue moved to the edge of the torch and looked down. Then she was tumbling. Jean cried out and centered her mind on the girl to slow her descent into Scott's arms. As soon as his arms wrapped around her she jumped free.

"It's OK," Scott soothed. He touched her cheek with his gloved hand. "Come on, let's go home."

Jean was moving back and forth between Logan and Rogue. The professor had insisted on his own release from the infirmary. And technically Rogue didn't need to be there. So she really only had Logan as a patient. But Rogue was exhausted. And worse she was fighting sleep with every ounce of her strength. She had been plagued by violent nightmares since her rescue. Jean figured the pile up of two additional persons' memories and dreams on top of Logan's reinforced ones, plus her own trauma, made for a confusing mixture in the girl's head. A head now marked by long silvery streaks branching from her forehead.

She'd come out of one the first night, screaming in German. Jean hadn't known that Magneto had been in a Nazi Death Camp as a child. It kind of helped her understand his fear of mutant registration.

Rogue's eyes opened slowly. Jean made sure her gloves were in place and moved into her line of sight. "Hi there, sweetie. How are you doing?" Once sure she was fully aware, she brushed the silver locks of hair back from the girl's face.

Rogue shrugged, "How's he?"

"Better," Jean smiled. "He should be up and around soon."

The sedatives in Rogue's system kicked back in and her eyes closed again. Jean sighed and looked back at Logan. She hated lying.

It was the next morning that Jean went to check the bandages and found that though they were blood soaked, the injuries beneath were healed. She stroked a finger down his side and he caught her hand.

"Tickles," he chuckled. His eyes fluttered and opened. "Hi."

"Hi," she smiled. "That was a very brave thing you did.

"Did it work?"

She nodded and stepped to the side so that he could see her. "She's fine."

Logan shot upright, "Why's she here?"

Jean caught him and tried to lay him back down but his strength was back and he pushed her aside as easily as the sheets.

"She's had trouble sleeping, so we've kept her here at night under sedation."

Logan leaned over her still form, "Marie?"

Jean tried to hand him gloves but he scowled at them and her. Bare handed he stroked Marie's pale face. Then his fingers twisted the stark silver strands around his fingers.

Marie's eyelids fluttered and she twisted. She blinked and looked up at him,

"Hi Logan."

"Hi Kid," he smiled and lowered his lips to her forehead.

"Feel anything?" Jean asked.

It took him a second to process what she meant. "No."

"How is that possible?"

"Up there I wanted it to work badly enough," Logan explained. "I couldn't lose her. Now I just want to be able to touch her."

Marie smiled at him. He kissed her face again.

"Go back to sleep, kiddo. I'll be right here."

It was later that day that Jean felt confident enough to release Logan from the infirmary. And Rogue went with him. They all had dinner together. Then the professor took Logan into his office while Rogue joined the other kids in the game room.

Xavier gave Logan the information he was able to obtain. Logan thanked him and went outside to the gardens. He found a stone bench and sat for a long while contemplating his options.

"Can I join you?"

Logan looked up to see Jean standing before him in the fading light. "Sure."

"I know what the professor told you. Are you leaving?"

Logan nodded, "Yeah. I think so."

"I want to ask you something." Jean took a deep breath.

"It's not so hard, darlin'. Just say it. You find me unbelievably attractive and you want me to stay," Logan said low and deep.

"No I find you unbelievably arrogant and savage. And I want you to leave Rogue here when you go," Jean replied hotly.

"What?"

Jean sighed, "I'm sorry. I had this whole speech planned, but you are so infuriating!" She laid a hand on his arm. "She would be better off here with us. We can take care of her."

"Oh yeah, you've done a great job of that so far!" he snarled and yanked his hand free. "No. She's coming with me. She's..." he stopped and rose to pace a few steps away.

"Yours. That's what you were going to say isn't it. Logan she's sixteen. She deserves to have some semblance of a normal life. We can give her that here. Leave her."

"No," he repeated low and angry. "I promised never to leave her. And that's one promise I mean to keep." He stalked away.

"Logan, don't you think she should have the right to choose?"

He whirled and stalked back, "Did you ask her? Did she say she wanted to stay?"

Jean shook her head, "I thought the option should come from you."

He slammed into the room. Kids were gathered around various tables playing a variety of games. Some looked up at his entrance, most did not. He saw her across the room. She was dressed in pants and a top with long gloves and a scarf and was playing foosball. She glanced up from the game and saw him watching. She excused herself from the kids, including Bobby he noticed. She was by his side in a moment.

"You OK?"

"We need to talk," he took her hand and led her outside. They stood just outside the door.

"Are we leaving?" she asked him.

"I am."

Her eyes grew wide, "Are... are you leaving me here?"

He looked deep into her eyes, "Dr. Grey wants you to stay here. Go to school. Seems the professor agrees."

"He does," the professor's voice came from behind them. Logan looked up and glowered. The professor's chair sat between Jean and Storm.

"What do you want?" whispered Marie.

"What I want doesn't matter," he replied. "It's what you want."

She shivered slightly, "Are you coming back?"

He nodded jerkily, "But I don't know when."

She blinked rapidly, "Do you want me to go with you?"

Jean stepped forward, "It's your decision Rogue."

"Not if he doesn't want me," she retorted sharply. She tossed a glare back at the doctor that was pure Wolverine.

Logan chuckled, "Yeah Kid. I want you to go with me. But I also kinda want you to stay. Go to high school. Learn how to calculate and physicate and historate."

She turned back and cocked an eyebrow at him.

He smiled and dipped his head so that their foreheads touched. "I want you to be happy. So I need you to make the choice."

"You are coming back right?"

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, "Yeah, Kid I'll be back. Someday."

He felt it. His heart was ripping in half. And he was going to have to leave half here.

She pulled back and turned to face the trio of X-Men. "Then someday, I'll be back too."

He opened his eyes and couldn't suppress the joy that flooded him.

Next day -

Logan was bent over the engine of his new truck. He was adding all the fluids needed for a long journey in winter. The professor had given him the brand new Expedition. With a promise to return it of course. He lifted his head as footsteps approached.

"Hey One-Eye. Here to talk me out of taking her?"

"Do any good?"

"Nope."

Scott shrugged, "Then I won't bother. Just here to tell you lunch is ready."

Logan wiped his hands on a towel and dropped the hood of the truck. "So you're OK with this?"

"Yep," Scott nodded. "Do have a question though."

"Shoot."

"What if she'd decided to stay?"

Logan grinned and walked passed the team leader, "Guess I'd have learned how to be a team player. No 'I' in team and all that shit."

"You would've stayed."

"I would have stayed." Logan grinned. "So thank God for small favors, huh?"

Scott caught his arm, "No. I think we'd have been better for it. But you're coming back so we'll see."

The men walked up to the house together.

"I still don't like it," Jean said quietly as she brushed her hair that night.

"No kidding," Scott laughed. "I hadn't noticed."

"Scott I'm serious."

"So am I." He caught her to him. "Jean. He could no more leave her behind then I could leave you."

"That's different." She pulled away.

"No it isn't," he retorted.

"You and I are in love," Jean snapped.

He smiled and nodded, "Yes. And?"

"And she... he... they..."

He just kept nodding.

"But he... the way he looks at me. He flirts with me. He..."

"I know," he nodded. "But Jean there isn't a man alive who wouldn't look at you the way he does. Logan would have to be three weeks in the grave not to flirt and seduce."

She threw her brush at him, "She is SIXTEEN!"

He caught her hands, mostly to keep her from throwing anything else, "Yes. She is sixteen. And in three months she'll be seventeen. And in fifteen months she'll be eighteen. Do you really think she'll change that much in a year?"

"She's just a baby," Jean whispered.

"She stopped being a baby the minute her father told her to get out. The minute she absorbed the memories of a seventy-year-old Holocaust survivor. And honestly Jean, right now he is the only one who can touch her. The only one with whom she feels safe." He caressed her face. "Can we take that away from her?"

"I guess not," she whispered.

"Besides, if she wasn't going, he'd be staying."

"What makes you say that?"

"I asked him."

Scott walked around to where Jean and Storm stood with Rogue. "Ready to go kid?"

She nodded happily. "We're going to see Niagara Falls first thing."

"Cool. Don't let Wolf-boy go over in a barrel or anything."

She laughed, "I won't."

"OK here," Jean handed her a leather case. "This has your laptop computer and digital camera. Take lots of pictures. And be sure to keep up on your work. We expect you to send your assignments back on time."

"I will," she smiled. "Thanks for letting me work it this way."

"Sure," Jean nodded. She touched the smaller girl's cheek with her gloved hand.

Storm handed her another bundle, "This has some snacks for the road."

"Let's get this show on the road," Logan called as he emerged from the school. He tossed his bag into the back.

Scott walked over to him, "OK so you have the emergency beacon. Push it and I can be anywhere on the continent in an hour. And the heavy-duty sleeping bags are in the back along with extra blankets. And Jean gave Rogue a few extra clothes from the storage. Stuff the other kids had outgrown."

"Thanks Scott," Logan said.

"Sure thing," he nodded. "Say goodbye quick," he lowered his voice to a bare whisper. "Those two will draw it out all day." He cocked his head to where Jean and Storm were alternately hugging Rogue.

"Be careful," Jean whispered.

"She will," Scott said loudly. He went to the women and lifted Rogue away from them. He sat her into the truck. "Have a good time kiddo. Call if you need anything. I can be there to pick you up faster then you can blink." He tapped her nose and smiled.

Scott turned back to see Logan hugging Jean, "Hey what did I tell you about staying away from my girl?"

Logan turned back, "Worried?"

"Not really. Just don't want to have to smell you on her."

Logan chuckled and turned to hug Storm.

"Take care of her. And yourself," Storm whispered.

"I will."

He rounded the truck and climbed in. "Gotta love these X-men additions to technology," he observed. "How do you... oh there it is." The truck started with a muffled roar. He glanced over at Marie. "What are you grinnin' at?"

"I'm just excited. It's a new adventure," her accent was as thick as molasses.

"Haven't you had enough adventures for one little girl?"

"Nope," she shook her head.

He grinned, "Well I have a strong feeling that our adventures are just beginning." They pulled away.

"Seatbelt!" she reminded.

"Look, kid, don't start that again," he growled. Then he yanked the belt across and snapped it into place.