Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

Scott and Storm sat in their rented SUV just outside a diner in a small northern British Columbia town. They'd followed Logan until he turned down a remote dirt road, realizing that he'd catch on to them if they continued their pursuit. Now, after finishing their telepathic debrief with the Professor, they simply sat in silence for a few moments. Both were still trying to absorb all they'd seen, and the obvious changes in their friend, Rogue.

"She looks good, but there's still something a little off about her, I think. I can't really put my finger on it. But she does look good, I guess." The last time Scott had seen her was the same night that Logan kidnapped her and escaped the mansion. She'd been much more animated than usual that night, probably caused by her visits with Logan since his return. That night was the first night in months that she'd shown any emotion, any reaction to external stimuli. Typically, she was catatonic while the drugs were in effect, and enraged, insane, and violent, when they began to clear her system. But that night, for a few moments, Scott thought that she could understand what he was saying to her. For a few moments, he tried to explain how sorry he was about what had happened and how much he missed her. He tried to tell her that if she could just stay calm, they might be able to let her out one day. Since that night, Scott had often mused that Logan must have been watching him, must have heard his conversation with Rogue. He wondered if that was why his bike had been wrecked, and all the other vehicles were left untouched. He knew why Logan had completely shredded Cerebro - to escape detection after they fled - and why he'd wrecked the Professor's office - he blamed Xavier for what had befallen Rogue. He'd left Rogue in Xavier's care, and, in Logan's eyes, Xavier had failed miserably. Hypocrite, Scott thought.

"I am certain he must have touched her. That - that may account for the improvement." Scott remembered how insistent Logan had been on that point, and how sure Jean had been that touching Rogue would only worsen her mental confusion. At the time, Scott had sided with Jean. The Professor agreed too, and even threatened to telepathically prevent Logan from doing so should he try it.

"Maybe. I wonder what else he's been doing with her," Scott mused bitterly. In the days and weeks following their departure, Scott had looked everywhere for Rogue. He was certain that Logan would take advantage of her incoherent state. The very thought made his blood boil. Even now, the anger was still fresh in him. In Scott's opinion, Logan had removed her from the only people who could provide her with the medical and psychological care she desperately needed, and for selfish reasons. Seeing Rogue now, apparently sane and healthy, had done little to quench Scott's anguish and rage at that. He thought to himself that surely Rogue's recovery must have been luck or some fluke. He was happy for it, but unyielding in his assessment of Logan.

"Anything would be an improvement from what she was like before." Scott remembered vividly Rogue's reaction to absorbing Sabretooth. He'd never seen insanity before, that complete loss of any connection with reality, and it scared him. Still, he didn't quite believe that the Rogue he had known was gone at first. It wasn't until he saw her throttle Jean, draining her life force, that he agreed that she had to be confined. And it wasn't until she'd been confined for a week but still kept trying to break through the six-inch steel doors of her cell with her bare hands, ripping off her fingernails and breaking bones, that he stopped trying to convince Jean not to keep her under heavy sedation. They'd had to use an experimental drug - nothing in the entire lab pharmacy worked against her healing factor for very long. Scott hated the effect the drugs had on Rogue, and not just the swings from complete catatonia to over-agitation and violent behavior. After the drugs, she lost all coherency, even the brief seconds that would come to her once every few days. It had seemed to Scott like all hope was gone then.

"We don't know - hell, Logan could've switched teams, he could have just recruited that kid to the Brotherhood for all we know. Sure, Rogue looks fine, but we don't really know what she's involved in." Scott was letting a little of his frustration and anger out, letting it carry him away a bit. "You know what he's like. It can't be a good situation for Rogue."

Hank was almost finished with his examination of Mary. The hard part - the gynecological exam - was over, and he was now simply patching up a small infected cut on her arm. Marie had stayed with them - just them - the entire time. 37 minutes and counting, Hank noted with some pride. One of the things he'd noticed about Marie early on was that getting her to perform some task for the benefit of others was an excellent distraction from her own fears and obsessions. He doubted that she would notice how long her separation from Logan had been or would feel any anxiety over it until she was sure that Mary was taken care of.

And Lord knows the poor girl needs someone's hand to hold, Hank thought. He'd kept his disgust at the violent injuries Mary had received well-hidden during the exam. No need to frighten the girl, and she would be all right, in time. Still, each time a child came through exhibiting signs of such vicious, cruel abuse, Hank's anger flared and his heart dropped.

"I want you to keep this bandage on it for the next few days," Hank instructed calmly, smiling. Mary had held up well, he thought, with only a few big teary outbursts during the entire process. Marie comforted her through each of them, and Mary was now almost not crying at all. "Come and see me on Friday. We'll take another look at the cut then."

"Forty-two minutes," Hank mused aloud, watching them go. He'd actually been quite proud of his work with Marie, in addition to his pride at Marie's resilience and determination. When Logan had found him, Marie was incoherent, non-functional on almost every level. Logan was desperate to help her, and had been to most doctors with any experience in treating mutants by the time he came to Hank's door. Hank had tried setting up his own medical practice and research lab outside of Seattle, and was just about bankrupt thanks to the resounding lack of patients willing to entrust their health to a large, blue-furred mutant, when Logan found him. Hank immediately agreed to try to treat Marie. He remembered thinking at that first meeting that she couldn't be that badly off - her attire was well-put together and she was neatly groomed. That was before he came to know how attentive to her Logan was.

So, he began treating the young woman and started first with a comprehensive blood test. Of course, as soon as he'd seen the presence of mutatol, an experimental and very powerful drug specifically designed to sedate and control powerful mutants, her badly scattered mental and physical condition made much more sense. Fortunately for Marie, Hank was very familiar with what to expect from the drug and how one might go about treating its side effects.

Hank hadn't set out to be a general practitioner in Washington state - he'd set out to be a research scientist. And he'd been a quite successful one for a time - he'd been on the team at Phillips Pharmaceuticals that had discovered and developed mutatol. At first, the drug was thought to control some types of mutations - mostly telepathy and telekinesis - and Hank saw it as a boon to mutants plagued by voices in their head and a mind that seemingly had a mind of its own. But when the side effects became clear - vivid, horrific hallucinations in many cases and complete and irrevocable catatonia in a small but statistically significant percentage - he'd fought to keep the drug out of public hands. Unfortunately, that had not only cost him his job, but had gotten him blackballed in his profession. The studies that showed the side effects were destroyed by Phillips, and Hank was branded a 'lunatic mutant.' Mutatol was now awaiting, and expected to receive, approval by the FDA in the US. It was already on the market in Europe.

As soon as Hank had run the blood tests on Rogue, he knew that the mutatol had to be completely purged from her system in order for her to begin to really recover. That was typically harder than one would think. The drug could linger in the body for years, having been engineered to provide the longest possible 'relief' from mutation 'symptoms.' Rogue's healing mutation would help, but it was sorely overtaxed from what Hank suspected were frequently administered massive doses of the drug. Logan had said that he had tried touching her, tried bolstering her mutation with his, and that he thought it was helping. Hank had him try it under his observation, and he agreed. It seemed to have no physical effect - the remaining traces of mutatol weren't leaving Rogue's system any faster afterward - but Marie seemed emotionally calmer, so long as Logan did not touch her long enough to lose consciousness completely. Logan related that the one time that had happened, she'd wrecked their hotel room, and had nearly killed a fellow hotel guest that had been unfortunate enough to poke his head out the door when Rogue ran screaming from the room. Logan awoke after having been out for only moments to see Rogue choking the man, draining his life from him. After that, Logan always made very sure to let go before passing out.

It took almost six weeks after Hank met them for the drug to clear her system, but he could see marked improvement as it did. Since then, they had been dealing with only psychological issues, not physical ones. And Hank thought that Marie was progressing well, given the huge trauma she'd experienced. The horrific, drug-induced hallucinations, combined with her absorption of a seriously maladjusted personality were more than enough to drive her insane permanently, but she was fighting, and gaining ground. He hoped that she would talk soon, and was encouraged by the few words she'd spoken to Logan. Hank sighed, remembering how sweet it was of the burly, hairy cage-fighter to have shyly asked Marie's permission before sharing that information with Hank. A part of Hank envied them both for having that kind of love in their lives. Whatever the x-men wanted, Hank thought, Logan would die before letting it happen if it hurt Marie.

"I believe so." Hank didn't divulge the details of any of his patients' medical conditions to Logan, except for Marie's and then only because he had her explicit consent. He was very strict about following ethical rules; he always had been. Logan, though, never pressed for details. Hank respected that about the man.

"Look," Logan dropped the cigar butt and put it out with his boot. Hank was sure that there was something on his mind now. "I dunno what we're in for with the x-men. They're gonna show up here, and soon. Caught sight of 'em followin' us back there. I dunno what they're gonna pull or when. Be ready."

Hank simply nodded. He'd tried explaining at first why the x-men doctor may have given Marie mutatol ignorant of the side effects. As far as the medical community was concerned, the side effects were only rumors, and the falsified Phillips study showing no ill effects had been published in the New England Journal of Medicine. Hank said he understood why the doctor had chosen the course of treatment that she had, given the information available to her. Logan growled at him a little, for the first and only time since Hank had known him. He insisted that they should've known that the drug wasn't helping Marie, and that there was plenty of information available telling them that - it was obvious to anyone with eyes, Logan had said. Hank didn't want to try any further counter-argument at the time. Logan's feelings toward the x-men weren't going to change. And, truth be told, Hank found himself agreeing at least a little with Logan. Keeping Marie confined and heavily sedated was not a therapy designed to produce recovery; it would ameliorate the symptoms and keep her from harming others, yes, but it would not help her recover. When he thought about it a little longer, and got to know Marie better, Hank found himself thinking that he didn't understand how any doctor, even one without his nimble genius and endless curiosity, could fail to explore other treatment options that might help her make a recovery, no matter how small or incomplete.

Later that night, Logan and Marie prepared for bed. He hadn't told her he'd seen the x-men following, wanting to let her regain a little equilibrium. He was searching for the best way to tell her the bad news now. And there was no question in his mind that he would tell her. He'd decided, early on, that no matter how far gone she might appear, that she was still a person - more than that a person he loved, the only person he loved - and she deserved to be treated like one. In those first few days, even though he was fairly sure that she understood nothing of what he said, he took great pains to explain to her what they were doing, where they were going, and why he had to occasionally restrain her from hurting someone else or destroying things. He liked to think she did understand that he cared about her and was trying to help her even then.

"Hey - we gotta talk, OK?" He motioned for her to get in bed with him. She did so, cuddling up to him carefully. "I think One-Eye and Storm might be headed our way." He felt her shudder next to him and he wrapped both arms around her tightly. "It's gonna be OK. I just wanna make sure you know and make sure you're ready, you know, and not surprised. I know you don't like to be surprised at all." She nodded against his shoulder. "Right. So, they're probably, you know, comin' over, but it's all gonna be OK. I'm gonna take care of it, you don't hafta worry 'bout anythin' there. Just - just so you know what's comin'."

"It's gonna be OK, baby, I promise you." He kissed her head gently. "I've got the security on, and two of the kids standin' watch. Hank knows. I don't think they'd try to take ya by force, but if they do, we're ready. We'll all fight for ya, darlin', all of us." He felt her shake her head no, vehemently. When she lifted her head to look at him, there were tears in her eyes. "Marie?"

"Aw, they're not gonna hurt the kids, darlin', even if there is a fight. They're a buncha boy scouts. I just meant - I didn't mean to scare ya, I just meant to make you feel better, knowin' we're all lookin' out for ya, not just me. I know I didn't do such a great job before and I thought maybe - " He cut himself off when she tugged at him harder and shook her head. He gave her an apologetic frown and caressed her cheek with an always-gloved hand. "I just wantcha to be sure you're gonna be protected and OK, that's all." Marie nodded solemnly and tried to smile. "I love ya, you know?" Her smile turned genuine at that. He made sure to tell her every night, and she found the ritual comforting.

At first, when she was beginning to have some clear moments, when the drug began to seep out of her system and as Logan strengthened his presence in her mind through the touches, she would sometimes hug or kiss him. He wasn't sure how, exactly, to handle that. He didn't want to do anything she'd feel bad about later, but he did want to make her feel better, and he definitely didn't want to make her feel rejected. He finally settled on just returning the affectionate gestures, and Marie seemed to like that.

By the time they met Hank, Logan was using touch to settle Marie down quite a bit. If he took her in his arms, she would almost always quiet herself. Hank suggested continuing on that path, since it seemed effective. Much later, when Marie no longer had any 'bad' moments and seemed to be completely *there*, she made an advance toward Logan of a more serious nature. It was when they were still building the big house, and they both slept in a sleeping bag on the floor. Marie had been holding Logan and kissing him, as usual, but then she trailed her hand across his chest and down his stomach. Looking up at him with questioning eyes, her intent was unmistakable, but Logan asked if she was sure anyway. She nodded, and that was the first night they'd made love. Logan was very careful - both with her skin, so that he wouldn't lose consciousness and scare her - and with her. After they were finished, she snuggled into him and fell into a contented sleep.

Even though Marie had seemed all right with what had happened, Logan was still worried enough to consult Hank. Hank took it all in, pushed his glasses a little further up on the bridge of his nose, and launched into a long explanation of consent in the eyes of the law. In his opinion, Marie was mentally fit enough at this point to give her consent, so Logan hadn't done anything legally wrong. Logan chewed that over for a moment, then asked Hank what he would've done. It was quite possibly the first time Logan had earnestly asked for advice in his life. Hank didn't answer right away, he gave it some thought, but when he did answer, he said that if he were Logan, he would've wanted to make Marie feel loved. He said that could only help her, and that he knew how much Logan wanted to help her. He said that if Marie seemed OK with it, Logan should be too, but he should also keep an eye out for any signs that she might not be feeling as OK as he first thought. Logan gruffly shook his hand and clapped him on the back and said a sincere 'thanks.'

Ever since then, they'd had a fairly active sex life. And Logan thought that was a good sign. Now, in the midst of all the stress he knew she had to be feeling from the presence of the x-men, he thought it was an especially good sign that she wanted to be together. He just wanted to make sure he told her a few more things before they began, the most important things. "I love you darlin'. Everythin's gonna be all right."