Winter In Yellowstone - Part 1

Winter In Yellowstone (Part One)
Title:  Winter in Yellowstone
Author:  Terri
E-mail:  xgrrl26@yahoo.com
Rating:  NC-17
Disclaimer:  I own Jack (mine!), Paul (eh), Gary (someone take him, please), Jules (aww), Christopher (even if I did steal the name from Karen), and anyone else not readily recognizable as Marvel's.  Everyone other than that isn't mine.  Poo.
Archive:  WRFA, Mutual Admiration, Dolphin Haven Peep Hut - anyone else, please ask and I'll happily provide :)
Feedback:  Please?  With a cherry on top?  Good, bad, and ugly welcome.
Summary:  An AU Marie heads for a mutant refuge in a very different world.
Comments:  Sit down, relax.  It's a long fic, and these are going to be some long notes.  This was inspired mostly by Stephen King's The Stand, which (and those of you in the literary elite can start laughing right now.) I think is a modern masterpiece.  It's also inspired by our own recently departed darkstar's excellent fic, la bas, which dealt with a post-Mutant Registration Act world and which just keeps sticking in my head.  The idea of doing an Alter-Eighteen based on The Stand occurred to me a while ago, but I was never able to get it into any kind of workable proportions - it kept threatening to be an out-of-control series, and this fic ended up as the longest single piece I've written, clocking in at 63 pages, according to Microsoft Word ;)  But I finally hit on an idea for telling the story across one season, and finding a logical stopping place for it (or at least I hope it's logical), so here you have it ;)  And now on to the ranting section of these notes:  feel free to skip it if you just want to get straight to the fic ;) I want to say something about the Jean in this one.  You're not going to like her, and I'm sure that's not a surprise for one of my fics.  Those of you who complain about gratuitous Jean-bashing should definitely skip this one.  However, having said that, I have some sympathy for Jean here, and she wasn't meant to come across as one-dimensional BadJean!  She was put in a very difficult situation and, while I'm sure none of us condone her choices, I think we can all see her motivations.  Enough said.  Also, I'm sure some of you won't like Gary's fate here either, and I'm sure I'll get my fair share of fb saying some characters could never do what they did to him here.  All I can tell you is that I can see them doing it in this world, in this situation.  Anyway, if you're still with me, on with the fic!


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Jack looked over at the young girl in the passenger seat as he brought the truck to a stop.  "We're here."  She looked way too frail, he thought, and way too small to be on her own.  He'd liked to have said - I'll go with you the rest of the way, I'll help you - but he knew he couldn't.  What was left of his family (if there was anyone still alive) was waiting for him in Vancouver.  He had to keep moving, keep on until he got there, no matter what might happen to the girl.  He'd helped her a lot, after all, by giving her a ride and some warm clothing, and food.  It was all he could afford to do for her. 

"Is this it?"  She looked straight ahead at the entrance.  'Welcome to Yellowstone National Park' the sign said. 

Jack nodded.  "You'll have to walk in.  I hear they don't like humans too much."  That got him a nervous glance.  She'd never said what had happened to her, what had driven her out onto the road, never even told him her real name.  But Jack had some pretty good guesses as to what her history was.  She had told him what her powers were and a mutant like that was liable to be driven out of any of the human settlements still left.  Rumor had it that there were only two mutie-friendly settlements - they'd taken over Yellowstone and most of coastal Maine.  She'd asked to be taken to Yellowstone even though he picked her up in New York.  Jack wondered if the Maine muties had proven as intolerant of their own kind as most humans were.  Like mostly everything, though, Rogue wouldn't talk about it, so Jack never knew for sure.  "If I remember right, there's a path, a driveway, and then a ranger station.  Hard to see in the snow, but follow the clearing in the trees and the guide rails and you should find it OK.  They'll probably have someone there, someone on lookout."

"OK.  OK."  She was still unmoving, just staring out the windshield. 

"You sure you wanna do this?"  It wasn't the first time he'd asked. 

"Yeah."  She finally turned to face him, and it struck him again just how young she was - fifteen, sixteen at best.  Jack didn't like to think about what could happen to someone that young and all alone on the road, picking her way through the chaotic ruins of civilization, even someone with her powers.  "Thanks.  Thanks a lot for the ride and - and for everything.  You'll never know how much it means to me."  Her voice wavered a little at the end, but she managed to give him a smile as she reached for her duffel bag and opened the door.  "I hope there's someone waiting for you up there."

"Me too.  Be careful, Rogue."  He watched her hop down and heard the crunch of the light snow covering beneath her boots.  She flung her hood over her head and waved a final goodbye before closing the door.  He waved back, then watched as she headed off, passing beneath the sign, following the clearing as he'd instructed.  He offered up a silent prayer to any of the Gods that hadn't yet abandoned mankind that she would be all right, then he started the engine and headed west.





Rogue walked a few hundred yards before sighting the ranger station.  Jack had been right - there was someone there.  She could see smoke coming from the small chimney.  Rogue hesitated for a moment, dropping her duffel bag at her feet to give herself a rest.  Calm, she told herself, try to stay calm.  She'd pinned all her hopes on Yellowstone, on finding mutants who would take her in here.  She had few illusions, though, about finding a bunch of idealistic, good-hearted genetic brothers.  No, she'd tried that once, in Westchester, and had found out just what a lie it all was.  She knew that her stay at the settlement would likely be contingent on something, some kind of payment.  If it was sexual - well, she wasn't sure she could do that.  Maybe if there was someone willing to not hurt her too much, but none of the men who'd run across her so far had fit that description and the odds of finding one here seemed slim.  If it was something sexual, she'd just say no thank you and go right back to the road.  She'd rather take her chances, she thought, then be assured of constant attacks and abuse.  There was a chance they wouldn't let her go, of course, but then again, that's why she kept the cyanide pill.

If it was her power that they wanted, that might be better.  She'd almost gotten to the point where she could filter out their minds, their dirty and disgusting thoughts.  That might be doable, she reasoned, and they might be interested in using someone who could kill with a touch to help them keep order among their own and to fend off outsiders.  She could do that, if it meant shelter and safety.  She could live through that, at least.

She didn't really have much else to offer, and she knew it - no useful skills, no specialized knowledge, certainly no money or possessions of any value.  She hoped that they wanted her powers.  She prayed that they did. 

There was movement in the backlit window of the ranger station, and Rogue knew they'd spotted her.  She picked her bag up again and began trudging toward the station.  It was beginning to get dark, and it looked like they were going to get more snow to compliment the two or three inches already on the ground.  She purposefully kept her thoughts off what awaited her in the station, trying to busy her mind with the few happy memories she still hung onto.  Better to just wait until she got there, and deal with whatever her fate would be then. 






"It looks like a girl," Toad radioed back to the main compound.  "Small, probably in her teens.  She's carrying one bag, a big one.  She's headed straight for the station."

"You know the drill," the gruff voice on the other end of the transmission replied.  "Let her in, give her the test.  If she comes up negative, out she goes.  If it's positive, bring her in.  No screwin' around this time, got it?"

"Got it," Toad answered. 

"I'll be in my cabin."  The transmission cut off and Toad eagerly hopped over to the window to check on the newcomer's progress.  She looked like a pretty one, he thought, and despite his boss' warning, a little screwing around never hurt.  Nothing too rough, nothing too serious, he thought, just a little fun.  Unless, of course, she had some kind of power he couldn't handle.  He still remembered the time he'd made a move on that telepath.  He still had the headaches.  He'd ask first this time - nice and casual, nothing out of the ordinary.  She was almost there now, and Toad eagerly hopped to the door to open it for her. 

She seemed a little surprised to see the door open before her, but she kept an unfaltering pace toward the station.  "Welcome to Yellowstone.  Come on in, come in."  She gave him a suspicious look, but she complied, and she didn't startle too much when the door shut behind her.  "Can I help you?"  His boss had given strict instructions *not* to give anything away about the people living here, to let the visitor speak first and explain what the hell they were doing wandering around out here. 

"I - I hope so.  I was looking for - I was told there was a mutant settlement here.  I wanted to see if there was and if - if maybe I could live here."  She was eyeing him, and trembling a little.  Toad tried to give off more friendly vibes. 

"What's your name?"

"Rogue."  Toad laughed aloud at that.  Whatever the tests said, this one had to be a mutant - only muties took codenames like that.  Normal humans never needed to, even now. 

"I'm Toad.  Pleased to meet ya.  Why don't you sit down in that chair right there?  We gotta do a little test on you, Miss Rogue."  He crossed over to the wood table himself, beginning to prepare the equipment in the firelight. 

"T-test?"  The trembling got a little worse and she took a step back.

"Yeah.  Nothin' bad, I promise.  Just a little prick on your finger to get a blood sample.  We put it on a strip and into this doctored up blood sugar testing machine and, voila, we know if you're a mutant in 30 seconds or less.  No humans allowed in these parts, you know."

"I'm a mutant."  She took another step back, unwilling to submit to the test.  God only knew what was on that small, sharp needle. 

"Well, do you got a power you can show?  You know, without taking down the station, 'cause we need it for our outpost."  Toad tapped his foot a little and feigned impatience, but he was really listening quite intently for her answer.  It would be indicative of how much or how little fun it might be wise to have with her. 

"I - my power's not like that.  It's my skin.  It - it kills anyone I touch with it and I get their powers, if they're a mutant too.  I could kill whoever I tried to demonstrate it on.  But I swear, I'm a mutant."

Toad frowned at that.  That was the worst power he'd heard of - he wasn't going to get to have any fun at all.  He decided he was going to make her pay for that.  "Then get in the chair or we turn ya over to the wolves.  Tie ya to a tree and let 'em nip at ya until you're just bones.  We don't like pissy interlopers, girlie."

Rogue's eyes grew wide at that and she turned to run, but Toad's leap was faster and more agile than she could ever hope to be, especially in this small space.  He grabbed her by the shoulders and used his strength to throw her into the chair.  Before she could recover, he'd pinned her forearm to the table, hopped over it to the other side, and was reaching for the needle with his other hand. 

"No!  Let go!  Let go!"  Rogue fished her free hand inside her coat.  This is it, she thought, this is it.  She was determined to get to the cyanide pill in her jeans pocket before anything happened. 

Toad just smirked at her struggle and quickly pricked her skin at the wrist, right through her sleeve.  He let go, and she skittered back to the far corner of the cabin.  Toad calmly swiped the testing strip with her blood and popped it into the machine.  As she scrambled to her feet and reached for the door, Toad used his tongue to snap at her hand.  She whirled on him in shock and pressed her back to the wall.  "Stay put, girlie.  Let's see what the test says - if you're telling the truth, you'll be wolf-free, don't worry."  Her eyes widened, but she stayed put.  "It'll take about 30 seconds.  Relax.  Have a seat."  Rogue didn't move.  "Have it your way."  Toad began humming as he awaited the results.  He watched as she lodged one hand in her pants pocket.  He wondered if she was trying to feign coolness or nonchalance.  If she was, her visible shaking sure gave the game away.

*beep*

"Ah, all done."  Toad leaned over the machine to read the result.  "Uh-huh.  Figures.  Let's go, then."

"Wh-where are we going?" 

"Up to the cabin to meet el jefe.  You came up mutie.  Lucky you."  Rogue let out a sigh of relief at that.  "Just watch out for the wildlife on the ride up.  Come on.  Iceman should be here any minute to take you up."

Rogue didn't ask anymore questions, she just let Toad shuttle her out the door and stood in the cold while she awaited the arrival of the next man.  She kept her hand in her pocket the whole time.








"What is it?"  Scott was always called when there was a new arrival.  Even those that passed the test and appeared normal and nonviolent sometimes didn't pan out that way once they got inside.  Logan didn't mind a little backup, and, besides, Scott was usually the one that tried to organize and assist the settlement population.  Logan wasn't much interested in any of that, he just wanted to be left alone by the people he'd taken in for the most part.  It was his land, all of it, and his rightful place was in charge.  If One-Eye liked to think he ran things, Logan let him. 

"Mutie, young one, Toad said.  Came up positive on the test.  Says she's got killer skin.  Sucks in other mutants' powers too.  Bobby's bringin' her up now."

"We don't have a place to put her."  Scott looked over the notebook he always carried with him.  "All the tents are taken and we're not going to get anything else built until spring.  Winter's already setting in."

"I really don't give a shit where you put her."

"Then why do you always ask to meet them?"  Scott didn't understand Logan any better now than he did when he first met the man.  He'd been taken in, clothed, fed, cared for by the Professor, but when the war started, he'd refused to fight on their side.  He'd left and joined the Brotherhood, become a murderer.  When the then-losing human side unleashed the Legacy Virus as some kind of desperate final solution, Logan was nowhere to be found.  Most of the Brotherhood were dead or scattered by then, but Scott had always thought Logan would return to the X-men fold eventually, if only to be with the only people he'd ever called friends in their final days.  When the virus mutated and started killing humans as well as mutants, he still didn't return.  When it had run it's course, when only the 1% of immune humans and 10% of immune mutants were left standing, he still stayed away.  It was only when Scott and Jean had finally gotten to Maine that he found out where Logan was - building a mutant-friendly homeland in the former Yellowstone National Park, on the other end of the continent. 

That was perhaps what he understood least of all - why Logan had fought off all comers, secured the land, then opened it to any mutant needing refuge.  It didn't make sense - his behavior during the war and it's aftermath had proven there wasn't a compassionate or altruistic bone in the man's body.  Even now, he took no interest in the mutants that came here and had a definitive aversion to anything even remotely related to running the place or looking out for their welfare.  He simply sat in his cabin, smoking the few cigars he had left, hunted, or fought off the occasional group of humans or mutants foolish enough to challenge him for the land.  Now that the virus had claimed Magneto, there were few whose powers posed any serious threat to Logan.  He simply enjoyed being king of the hill, Scott thought, and the ceremonial bringing of the new arrivals before him was his way to assert his dominance and school them into paying him tribute.  It had nothing to do with the rationale he usually offered but hadn't even bothered with in reply to Scott's question this time - he wanted to see for himself whether they'd be a threat to the others living here or not.  No, Logan just liked to be in charge.  Scott took care of all the real work - finding them lodging, food, clothes, making sure they obeyed the rules of the settlement (rules Logan had set down, of course), and generally seeing to it that the whole place didn't degenerate into the chaos that surrounded it on the outside. 

"They're here."  A moment after Logan's words, Bobby knocked, and Scott opened the door for them.  His first thoughts were that Toad had been correct - she was young, and rather fragile-looking to boot.  But in the next second - when her eyes and her mouth were wide open and she was backpedaling frantically into Bobby - Scott changed that assessment to insane. 

"No, no!"  Her words had no effect - Bobby held her still and blocked her escape route by grabbing her upper arms. 

"Calm down," Scott soothed.  "Everything is all right, there's nothing to be afraid of here."  Sometimes they went this way - sudden, irrational panic from God only knows what - some past trauma or experimental brain surgery were equally as likely to be the culprits.  "Try to calm down."

It seemed for a second that the girl was taking his advice.  She stilled, took a deep breath, and leveled her gaze upon him.  "Where is she?"

"Who?"  Scott couldn't see it, but Logan was moving up behind him, curiously looking at the girl.

"You know who, your wife."  Rogue spat the words out at him.  She knew the deal now.  It was Westchester all over again.  She knew how it was going to all go down.  But this time, she wanted a chance to hurt them first, to make them suffer a little before she took herself out.  It was all over, all over except for that one last task.

"My wife?  She's - she's been dead for a while now, the virus took her.  She - "

"Just tell me where she is."  The girl set her jaw and defiantly stared Scott down.  He looked to Logan for some assistance, and Logan, for once, gave it.

"She's buried in a hole in the ground in Maine."  Scott flinched a little at the stark words and glared at Logan, who ignored him.  "She ain't here.  What's your problem, kid?"

"She was alive after the virus hit, after everyone died.  Don't lie to me."  Her eyes stayed with Scott.

"She lived until our son was born.  That's the way it works.  She borrowed his immunity, inherited by me, but just after the birth - "  His voice wavered a bit, and he looked at the floor instead of the girl's raging eyes in order to continue.  "She's gone, has been for months.  How - how did you know her?"

The girl didn't answer, she just stood there.  Bobby broke the tense silence.  "Do you want me to get help?"  Scott knew he meant Hank, the resident doctor.  They never used the word 'doctor' around newbies, just incase it triggered bad memories and even more bad behavior.  Scott nodded, but Logan shook his head no.  Bobby shrugged.  "OK then.  Want me to stick around?"

"Nah," Logan answered.  "Go on back home.  Scooter'll call if we need ya."  Bobby nodded, and disappeared out the still-open door.  Logan took a step toward the girl, pushing Scott behind him.  "Why dontcha tell me why you're lookin' to find Jeannie, huh?"

"I wish she wasn't dead."  The girl was standing her ground, not darting for the door, and Logan took that as a good sign.  "Dammit."

"Was she - was she a friend of yours?" Scott ventured.  That was met with a look of unadulterated disgust on the girl's face.  "I know - I know when we were in Westchester, there were some kids she took in, she - "

"She took me in," Rogue confirmed.  "And then she sold me out.  For you.  I saw your pictures, don't think I don't know who you are, you son of a bitch.  Did you help her plan it, did you?"

"Plan - plan what?  What are you talking about?"

"Scooter," Logan said sharply.  "Go down to the storehouse.  Get the girl some clean clothes."

"But - "

"Do it."  Scott harrumphed, but followed Logan's orders.  They'd already had their knock-down, drag-out over who would be following whose orders.  Scott still had a bad back and sore hip from it.  Logan fought dirty, he had learned, and for the sake of his small son and Jean's memory, he knew he couldn't afford to be crippled or killed in some head-butting contest with Logan.  So, he endured the king-of-the-world attitude and tried to make the settlement a better place for his son to grow up in.  It was only occasionally, like now, that he still sharply resented it.  He brushed past Rogue on his way out, giving her a long look before shutting the door behind him.    She turned to watch it close, then turned her attention back to Logan. 

"Relax, kid, I don't bite.  Sit down, over there by the fire.  Take your coat off.  Relax."  Rogue did none of it.  After a few minutes of silent staring between the two, Logan acceded.  "Fine.  Have it your way.  Why dontcha tell me why you're lookin' for Jeannie, huh?  What'd she do to piss you off?"  Rogue didn't answer, but some of the tension bled from her body.  She thought the man - Logan, she'd been told - was being sincere with the question.  She'd become a fairly good judge of character - the hard way, she thought with more than a little bitterness.  She just didn't know how to explain what had happened.  "What did ya mean - she sold you out?"

"She - I came to Westchester in it's last days.  That man, her husband - he'd been captured by the humans.  She wanted him out.  She went into my mind and made me do things, made me go with her to where he was being held, made me - made me - "

"Go on," Logan said, without a trace of emotion.  "Finish."

"She made me make a distraction, handed me over as a bribe and a decoy.  She let them get me so that she could free him.  She raped my mind and then they raped my body and my mind.  I get them - I get them in my head when I touch them.  She just waltzed in, took her husband, and walked away.  She threw me to them like a piece of meat."

Logan's expression had remained unchanged, and he let some silence hang in the air before replying.  "I don't believe that.  Don't sound like Jeannie, not at all.  I knew her for a lotta years, kid, and she would never do anythin' like that."

Rogue didn't respond to that, but she picked up her duffel bag.  "Am I free to go?"

"What?"

"If I leave, are you going to tie me up and feed me to the wolves?"

Logan's nose crinkled at that.  "Who toldya that?"

"Toad.  Wait - let me guess - you don't believe that either because you've known him a lot of years and he'd never do anything like that."  She knew she was skating on thin ice by hurling sarcasm at what was very obviously a dangerous man, but it was either that or tears, and she was just angry enough at his quick dismissal of all she'd suffered to set herself against crying. 

"Nah.  That sounds pretty much like him."  Logan gave her an up-and-down look.  "Where you gonna go anyhow?"

"Out of here."

"Nothin' out there, kid, just a lotta psychos.  If what you said was true, you wouldn't be in a hurry to go back out there."

"I'd rather take my chances than wait for that guy Scott or someone like him to deliver me to them like some gift-wrapped package.  I know what you're like."

"Better watch your mouth, girlie, it could getcha into trouble."  There was a hint of menace in his eyes as he stalked over to her.  Her fingers scrambled into her pocket again, just in case.  "Why would Jeannie do somethin' like that, huh?  There hadta be another way."

"I don't know why," Rogue answered, a bit hysterically.  "Why should I know why?"  Logan's gaze narrowed.  "Look, are you - "

"Stay right there."  He stalked over to the radio that served as the settlement's main tool of communication and hailed one of the resident mutants, one with special powers.  He knew the girl wouldn't like what he was proposing, but he was puzzled.  He couldn't smell a lie on her, so either she had it wrong but believed what she was saying, or she had some memories implanted.  The mutant he had in mind was gifted with the ability to see into someone's past by touching an object they owned, something personal to them.  And he saw the actual past - not just read someone's questionably accurate memories of it.  Maybe he could help Logan figure it out.  "Paul?  Paul?"

"I'm here."

"It's Logan.  Can you come up here right now?  Got a favor to ask ya."

"Sure."  The voice on the other end sounded a bit nervous.  "I'll be right up."

Logan switched off the radio and back over to Rogue.  "That guy I called?  He'll be able to take a look inta your past, see if you're tellin' the truth."

"And if I am, you'll let me go?" She asked it desperately, even a bit hysterically. 

"You can't go back out there.  What are ya, fifteen?"

"Sixteen."

"Whatever.  It's safer for you here."  She let out a panicky laugh at that.  "Look, just sit tight until he gets here.  Should be a coupla minutes.  You want somethin' to eat?  Somethin' to drink?"  The girl shook her head no.  "Go on, then, sit down by the fire and get warm."  She shook her head again.  "Pain in the ass, aren't ya?"

"Yep.  You'd be better off rid of me," she whispered back.  Logan could smell the fear rising in her now and something about that and her big, scared eyes touched a chord in him.  He felt a little remorse for his throw-away comment. 

"Look, nothin's gonna happen to ya. Don't worry 'bout whatever Toad said, he's an asshole.  Don't - "

"Then why is he your greeter?"

Logan smirked at that.  "Greeter?  This ain't no Wal-Mart.  He's a sentry, and he got that job because the sentries are usually the first ones killed in any kinda attack and I don't mind losin' him." 

"He was a jerk."  Her voice was still low, whispering.  "What if he scares people away?"

"Then they can go elsewhere.  We're full up.  If people wanna come in, fine.  If they don't, fuck 'em.  I don't really care one way or the other."  Logan was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming up the hill.  "That's Paul.  Just relax, kid, huh?  No one's gonna hurt ya for Christsakes."  Logan went to the door, opening it in advance of Paul's arrival.  Rogue bizarrely thought - is that some kind of custom around here, opening the door before people can knock?  "Hey.  Thanks for comin'.  This is a new arrival."

"Hello," Paul greeted, looking quite nervous.  He was a small man, and his power wasn't a very useful one.  He didn't know Logan well, but he'd seen him defeat someone who'd challenged his authority in a fist fight.  Well, it was actually a claw fight before it was all over.  Paul didn't want to anger the man or do anything that would get him and his fourteen year old sister ousted from the settlement.  "Pleased to meet you.  I'm Paul."

"Rogue," the girl whispered.  Paul tried to smile at her a little. 

"I need ya to use your powers.  Girl claims an old friend of mine by the name of Jeannie fucked her over.  I don't believe it.  I wantcha to look.  Jeannie's a tall redhead, pretty.  Miles worth of legs.  You'll know her when you see her."  Logan turned his attention to Rogue without waiting for any sign of assent from Paul.  "He'll need somethin' personal to you, a ring or bracelet or somethin'.  You got somethin' like that?"

Rogue shook her head but then suddenly stopped, as if struck by a thought.  She knelt next to her almost-forgotten bag and unzipped it, drawing out a tattered old teddy bear.  She proffered it to Paul wordlessly.  Maybe I'll be lucky, she thought, and when he sees it's the truth, he'll let me go.  That might almost be worth the humiliation of showcasing the abuse she'd suffered to a total stranger.

Paul took the bear with another small smile.  He took several deep breaths as his fingers ran over the bear's matted fur.  His eyes closed, and he swayed back and forth.  "I see her.  Red - red hair.  In a white coat, she's - she's smiling at Rogue."  Logan looked at her and raised an eyebrow.  "She's talking to Rogue, telling her - shit!"  Paul tensed all of a sudden and wavered on his feet.  "Her mind, her mind, she's - she's - oh!"  Logan took a step toward Paul.  "No, no, no, no, no??"  He began to shake violently now, and Logan feared he wouldn't hold his feet.  "Aaaaahhhh!!!!"  Paul suddenly snapped his eyes open and flung the bear away from him.  It landed at Rogue's feet. 

"What?  What'd you see?" Logan demanded.  Paul was still shaking and unsteady on his feet.  "Dammit, what?"

"She - she forced her way into her mind and she made her walk - walked right into their compound and her mind said not to fight them even when they - even when they - "  Paul abruptly shut himself up, remembering that Logan had said this woman had been his friend.   He glanced at the man's face, which was twisted in a mask of pain, then at Rogue's, which was full of tears and shame.  "Uh, I mean, I'm sure she - she - didn't mean to - "

Logan smelled the panic and lie on him.  He grabbed Paul by his shirt and hauled him to be nose-to-nose with him.  "Just tell me why she did it, why Jeannie did it."

"It was the only way she could be sure," Paul answered almost involuntarily.  "She had to be sure she could get him out because of the baby.  She knew - she was a doctor and she knew she wouldn't survive after she delivered.  She had to be sure the baby had it's father."  Logan seemed to deflate at that, and he released his grip on Paul, who immediately took a few steps back. 

"Fuck," Logan whispered.  He glanced at Rogue, who was hiding her face in her hands.  Even if he hadn't seen her shoulders shake, he knew she was crying, he could smell the tears.  "Thanks, Paul," he said absently.  "I owe ya one."

Paul smiled and nodded, absurdly grateful to still be alive.  He gave one final look to the sobbing girl before rushing out the door.  He felt sorry for her; he'd seen part of what she'd been through, and he wouldn't wish that on anyone.  He shut the door behind him, hoping that Logan wouldn't punish her for what had happened with the red-headed woman, but not willing to take any more risks to make certain of that.  He would certainly have quite the story to tell his friends and neighbors in the morning. 







Back inside the cabin, Logan slowly paced over to the crying girl.  "Hey, kid."  She didn't look at him as he'd hoped.  Instead, she turned away and pressed herself into the corner, facing away from him now.  "Listen, you're - you're gonna be OK here.  We'll take ya in.  Nothin's gonna happen to ya while you're here, I'll see to that."  She just cried harder.  "Don't get yourself all worked up.  Everythin's gonna be OK now."  He reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder but that only got him a terrified gasp and a mad scramble to get away from him.  She tripped over her own two feet in her effort and fell to the floor in a sobbing heap.  "Sorry."

"Why did you do that to me?" she wailed.  "Why?"

"I'm sorry I didn't believe ya, but I - "

"No, no, why did you want to humiliate me like that before you let me go, why?"  She raised herself to a sitting position and tried to calm her heaving breaths. 

"I wasn't tryin' to humiliate ya, just to find out the truth."

"I was telling you the truth."

"I know."  Logan kept his distance this time, but he did move a bit closer and kneel to come to her level.  "I'm sorry."

"Then let me go," she wailed. 

Logan sighed and thought on it for a few moments.  "That don't seem like such a good idea, Rogue.  I'm guessin' the reason you came here was 'cause it wasn't so great out there.  It's dangerous.  You're better off in here, kid."

"I don't want to stay."  Her sobbing wasn't slowing any, and that was beginning to alarm Logan. 

"Well, what would make ya wanna stay?"  That startled her enough to at least bring her eyes to his.  "If Scott stays clear of ya?  Would that make it OK?"  She didn't answer, but her tears had subsided a bit.  "If I promised to take care of ya personally, to protect ya, would that make it OK?"

"You said if people want to leave, fine."

"You're a special case."

"Because you feel guilty about what she did to me?"  Logan shook his head.  "Why then?"

"'Cause you're a special case."  She huffed in frustration and turned her head away.  "You deserve a break, OK?  I know more than you think 'bout what it's like to have your mind, your body violated like that."  Logan sprung the claws, careful to keep them well away from her.  That got her attention back.  "I had this done to me, had these put in and my memories sucked out.  I remember what it was like not to know who to trust and to hafta always be on guard against people fuckin' ya over.  I don't trust no one but me, and I bet you're pretty much the same way, Rogue."

"No," she answered, scooting a little closer to him and reaching out a hand with a clearly curious expression on her face.  "I still tried with people.  There was - there was a nice man who gave me a ride here all the way from back east.  Jack.  He was OK."  The incremental journey her gloved fingers were making finally landed them on the dull side of Logan's still-extended claws.  He found himself suppressing a shiver at the contact.  "Does it hurt when they come out?"  Now, her big brown eyes met his, and he felt for a moment like he couldn't breathe.  The thought that he had been right, she was definitely a special case, passed through his head before he answered. 

"Every time."  She gave him a smile, a sad one, the first he'd seen on her.  Everything in him tightened again and he had to make an effort to take a breath.  "Why'd you still try with people?"

"If you give up, they've broken you.  That's what they'd want."  Her smile turned wry and she took her hand away.  "What do you want for all that?"

"For what?"

"Letting me stay here, protecting me if something bad happens.  What do you want for that?"  She was looking at him levelly now and the tears had stopped. 

"Nothin'."

"Nothing?"  Logan shook his head in confirmation.  Rogue sat back on her heels.  "Are there - are there any conditions?"

"Yeah," Logan responded, fighting the urge to lean toward her and instead mirroring her actions and leaning back.  "There's rules of the settlement - no killin', no fightin', no stealin'.  You gotta contribute, do somethin' to build or feed or help out the place as a whole and you gotta fend for yourself.  Whatever is here - trees, animals, water, land - is fair game as long as it don't belong to someone else who claimed it first.  Disputes go to me and if you don't like the way I decided, you can try to kick my ass.  If I kick yours, you do what I say or get the hell outta Yellowstone.  No one's ever kicked my ass."  Normally, this was where he'd tell the newcomer he'd have a temporary place to stay in one of the tents until good weather broke, but then he'd be expected to build his own place, hunt his own food, and make or trade for anything else he needed.  "You're gonna stay here, in my cabin, so I can keep a close eye on ya.  We'll figure somethin' out, but for now, you take the bed, I'll take the chair."

"I don't - I don't know what to do with trees and I don't know how to hunt animals."  Logan smiled at her naivete a little.  "Can you - can someone teach me how to do that?"

"So you're stayin' then?"

"If you promise," she responded solemnly.  "If you promise you're telling me the truth and that you won't hurt me."

"I promise," he breathed, and for the third time that night it felt as though everything in him stopped.  "And I'll teach ya those things myself.  Might as well learn from the best."

She deliberated for a few moments.  "OK."  Her smile was on again, and Logan found himself doing the most unusual thing of a very aberration-filled evening.  He smiled back at her.









Logan awoke with a start and to the overwhelming smell of blood.  These were never good things, but his nose registered the comforting fact that at least the blood wasn't his own.  He quickly changed his mind about that being a good thing as he came fully awake to see a gasping, pained Rogue at the end of his extended claws.  "Shit!"

Shock, hurt, and betrayal were clearly written across her face.  He felt his claws jiggle in her chest as she struggled to fill her lungs with a breath.  It wasn't working - he'd pierced both lungs with his splayed claws.  "Hank!  Hank!"  The blue furry doctor lived miles away and Logan knew somewhere in his mind that the cries were futile.  It was all he could think to do though - call a doctor, get help.  "Hank!"

Rogue tried to breathe again, her face now turning an odd combination of blue and purple.  Logan felt her internal organs shift his claws ever so slightly with her effort and it finally dawned on him to retract them.  As soon as he had, he almost wished he hadn't - they made a sickening wet, sucking sound coming out.  "Hank!  Help - someone help!"

Rogue wavered and pitched backwards, but Logan caught her.  For the first time, he realized he hadn't crawled into bed with her to stab her in some unconscious frenzy.  She was standing, and they were nowhere near the bed.  In fact, he was standing right in front of the chair he'd fallen asleep in. 

Logan pulled her body up, close to him, intending to carry her over to the bed and dash for the radio to call Hank.  But as he brought her flush to him, he noticed her flinch her blue, swelling face away from his and it dawned on him - bare skin.  She was trying not to touch him with her skin.  He remembered why - Toad had told him what her power was and how it worked - and he finally caught on to something that might help her.  "Hang on, kid."  Locking one arm around her waist and holding her tightly to him, he cupped the back of her head with his other hand and forced her bare cheek to his. 

He felt a burning spread through his body from the contact point at her cheek.  He felt like he was burning from the inside - fire licking down his blood vessels and nerves, scorching everything in their path - and he wondered absently if this was how people spontaneously combusted.  But then the fire changed to a kind of suction, a draw of everything he had in him to her body.  She squirmed a little and he felt her finally take a breath. 

He couldn't keep them upright any longer - he fell to his knees and she fell, still locked in his grasp.  He felt her body expand and contract with another breath, a deep one this time.  It was working, Logan thought, she'll live.  That was the last thought he had before the blackness took him. 






When he awoke, he smelled Rogue's blood and a surge of panic hit him before the memories of what he'd done came flooding back.  He sat up, looking around for her.  He didn't have to look far.  She was lying on the floor a few inches away from him on her back.  She looked like she was sleeping - he could hear a strong heart beat and see her chest rise and fall with even breaths.  Letting out a sigh and thanking God he figured out how to save her, he reached a hand over to gently shake her awake. 

Only, she didn't wake.  She stirred, sighed, but didn't open her eyes.  Logan tried again, a little rougher this time.  Nothing.  He called her name and shook her harder.  Still nothing.  "Fuck."

He remembered his calls for Hank the night before and decided that contacting the settlement doctor now might be a very good idea.   The guy was a genius and he'd surely be able to help Rogue.  Maybe he even knew about other mutations like hers, what the side effects might be, that kind of thing.  Logan raised him on the radio, and summoned him to the cabin. 

He was tempted to clean up before Hank got there, and he pondered that for a moment.  The cabin was splashed in Rogue's blood, but Logan had never been one to worry about housekeeping details before.  No, the idea that someone would see the blood and think he'd deliberately harmed Rogue was what worried him.  Again, it was unusual.  He knew well what the opinion of him among settlement residents was - mad, bad, and dangerous to know, as the saying went.  Frankly, it worked for him.  It kept people away and few dared to cross him.   He frowned, then gently lifted Rogue's body to the bed.  He could at least do that, at least get her off the floor and out of the puddle of her own blood. 

Hank arrived in short order, running up the hill from his parked car, medical bag swinging with his gait.  "Where is she?"

"In the bed," Logan answered, noting that Hank paused only a moment at seeing the floor awash in her blood.  "She's breathin' OK and her heart sounds good.  But she won't wake up."

Hank hefted his large frame on to the bed beside her, quickly drawing a small examining light from his bag.  He used his furry, clawed fingers to lift one eyelid, then the other.  "Her pupils look good.  What - what exactly happened?"

"I stabbed her.  She couldn't breathe for - for at least sixty seconds."  Logan didn't know how long she'd spent skewered on the end of his claws, gasping for air, before he woke.  "I tried to fix her by touchin' her - her mutation absorbs other peoples' powers."

"Is that it?" 

"Yeah, that's what happened."  Logan wasn't interested in explaining the circumstances surrounding how he'd come to stab her.  Hank knew him from the old days, from when they were both X-men, and he hoped Hank wouldn't think he'd hurt the girl on purpose.  On the other hand, he knew Hank's opinion of him had changed when he chose to fight with the Brotherhood once the war was on.  Logan had made no explanations for that either - it was a war then, a real war, and he hadn't wanted to fight on a side that pulled any punches.  It was about survival, plain and simple, and the X-men had never understood that.  Well, he thought, Hank'll think what he wants anyway.

"No, I meant - is that all to her mutation?"

"Yeah.  Wait.  No.  She said people get in her head when she touches 'em.  Shit.  Did I fuck up her head?" 

Hank stopped his flurry of examination and backed away a bit from Rogue.  "I don't know.  And we don't have the kind of equipment we'd need to find out.  There is nothing - nothing like a CAT scan or MRI out here."  Hank began packing up his things, and closing the bag. 

"So - so what?  There's nothin' you can do for her, is that what you're sayin?"

"In simplified terms, yes.  We can observe her for signs of changes in her physical well-being, but if the problem is psychological or physiological/neurological and concerning the brain, there are no diagnostic tools available to me to provide the information necessary to determine the appropriate course of treatment or to even discern between those two possible conditions."

"Fuck."

"Indeed.  I would suggest that you stay with her personally and observe her - your senses will work better than any of the medical equipment available to us in terms of detecting changes in her physical condition.  Notify me immediately if there is any change."  Hank rose and headed for the door, only to be stayed by Logan's hand to his chest. 

"Is she gonna wake up?"

"I do not know," Hank replied, with more than a hint of impatience.  "You cannot expect that you can simply transfer your powers to 'fix' her after you have dealt her a mortal wound, Logan.  Even if her mutation works in such a fashion, there are side effects, as you can see.  It is never quite that simple, I'm afraid."  Hank shrugged himself away from Logan and briskly moved around him to the door. 

Logan stood numbly in the middle of the room.  "It was an accident," he said softly to the shut door.  It was too late for Hank to hear, and Logan doubted it would've changed his opinion anyway.  It was pretty clear what his former teammate thought of him now.

"Mmmm..."  Logan whirled on the sound coming from the bed.  Rogue had shifted position - she'd turned over on her side, and was curling her legs up underneath her. 

"Rogue?  Kid?"  He cautiously made his way to the bed and sat beside her.  "Rogue?"

"Hmm?"  She was still half-asleep, not opening her eyes or sitting up, but Logan let out a soft, joyful whoop.  That seemingly reached her too - her eyebrows knitted together as if in confusion at the sound.

"Rogue, wake up, OK?  It's time to wake up now."  He found himself placing a gentle, gloved hand on her shoulder for a caress, not a wake-up shake. 

"Five more minutes," she mumbled, and that surprised a bark of laughter out of Logan. 

"Nah, now, kid.  Come on, wake up."  She stirred at that, rolling onto her back and blinking her eyes open.  "There we go.  There you are."

"Did I fall asleep?"  Logan found himself absurdly relieved at the possibility that she might not remember what had happened, but his hopes fell when her expression melted into distress.  "Oh my God, you - you stabbed me!  You stabbed me and you touched me!" Rogue quickly sat up in bed, looking at him with wide eyes.  "You touched me on purpose!"

"Yeah.  Sorry 'bout that.  I know it fucked with your head, but you were dyin' and I couldn't think of anythin' else."

"Oh my God."

"I dunno what happened.  The claws come out sometimes while I'm sleepin' and - "

"Nightmare," she breathed, trying to regain her composure.

"Yeah, I'm sure it sucks like hell for ya, but - "

"No."  She shook her head to punctuate the word.  "You were having a nightmare.  I tried to wake you up and you - you jumped up and the claws came out and you stabbed me."

Logan winced.  "Why'd you do that?"

"You were so frantic, you were breathing hard and - and panicking.  I just wanted to make it stop." 

Logan pursed his lips together, biting down on the unfamiliar emotions welling up in him.  "Don't do that any more.  Don't come near me when I'm like that.  I got plenty of bad dreams and they never hurt me none.  You just stay clear, got it?"

Rogue nodded, somehow sensing how difficult the words had been to get out and giving him no argument.  "I have nightmares too, bad ones sometimes.  You can - if you ever notice, you can wake me.  I'll sleep covered up so I can't get you if I freak out."  He nodded in turn.  "Don't try your end of that again either, OK?  I could've killed you."

"Yeah.  I know it's hard on your head.  You said you get people up there when you touch 'em, and - "

"I'm not worried about that."  Rogue reached out a gloved hand from beneath the blanket to rest on his leg.  "You're - you're actually OK up there.  You're not fighting me or hurting me up there.  I just really don't want to kill you.  I - I - "  Rogue broke off, and lifted her hand away, seemingly suddenly very interested in it.  "Um.."

"Kid?"

"I feel kind of like I have to - "  The emergence of three bone claws and the accompanying ripping sound of the glove she wore cut her off.  "Whoa!"

"Holy hell!" 

She examined the claws wide-eyed for a moment, then raised her gaze to Logan.  "Are these - are these yours?"

"I - I guess.  I never knew they were bone before - before they got me."  He reached out a finger to touch her claw, unconsciously imitating her exploration of his metal ones the night before.  "Damn."

"Uh, Logan - this - this doesn't usually happen.  I mean, I only usually get the powers while I'm touching the person and for a few hours afterward, tops.  They don't usually stay permanently.  And I don't usually pass out like that either.  That's almost never happened.  I'm usually fine and back to normal pretty quickly.  The powers don't usually stay.  Not unless - oh!"

"Not unless what?" 

"Not unless I, ah, kill the person.  But you're not dead, so - so that can't be right.  I don't know how.."

Logan sat back from her a little, taking his fingers from her claw.  He knew how it had happened - he wouldn't put it past his healing power to bring him back from a minute or two of dead.  Hell, that was nothing compared to some of what his handy little 'gift' (as the late, great Chuck had called it) had managed over the years.  He didn't tell that to Rogue, though.  He had a feeling the girl didn't need that kind of thing on her conscience, and he knew her well enough by now to know how much it would trouble her.  "Guess it's just a fluke.  Sorry 'bout that."  She looked at him in wonder, then impulsively, but very carefully hugged him, remembering a second later to retract the claws.  He hugged back, and breathed easy for the first time since he'd woken from his nightmare. 






After breakfast and a bath, Rogue felt much better.  She was having an incredibly easy time assimilating Logan into her mind, and his powers - the senses, the healing, the claws - weren't as unpredictable or difficult to manage as some other powers she'd borrowed.  She found herself actually glad for the turn of events, and for once felt that she'd caught a lucky break.  This - being here, under Logan's protection, alive, safe, and more powerful - it could be the first really good thing that had happened in a long time. 

"Feelin' better, huh?"  She nodded as she emerged from the bathroom, wet hair clinging to her shoulders.  "Good.  When it stops snowin', I'll show ya around the place.  You should know where the basics are and how to find things if you need 'em."  She nodded again.  "Wash your voice away in that bathtub, didya?"

"No," she answered with a smile.  "It's just that things - I can hear a lot of sounds and talking seems loud."

It was Logan's turn to nod now.  "You'll get used to it.  You learn to filter what you're not interested in inta the background.  Takes a while, though."  Rogue noticed that he'd lowered the register of his voice for those comments.  "How's your head doin'?"

"Still good. I feel kind of tired, though, kind of drained."

"Happens when there's a big strain on the healin'.  Wanna go back to bed?"  Her stomach growl answered for her.  Logan chuckled softly.  "Yeah, appetite gets bigger too.  You know where the food is, help yourself."

Her breakfast of dried bear meat and thick bread had been delicious and she was perfectly happy to repeat her selections for a mid-morning snack.  "Do you want anything?"

Logan seemed to give it some amused thought, then answered, "Yeah.  Make me some of whatever you're makin' for yourself, huh?  I'll put some more coffee on."  He joined her in the kitchen, deftly maneuvering around her as he fussed with the coffee.  "Tell me somethin' - what was your name before Rogue?"  

The question caught her off guard.  "What was your name before Logan?" she parried back, nervously. 

"Wolverine.  That was my code name durin' the war, and before that." 

She hadn't expected an answer.  He was looking at her intently now, pinning her with his eyes.  He expected an answer.  "Marie.  But - but I'm Rogue now."  Logan relented, turning his eyes back to the coffee pot in his hands.  "Nobody else knows that name."

"Nobody?" he asked, continuing to fiddle with the coffee grounds.

"Nobody still alive," she replied softly.  Logan frowned a little at that. 

"I like that one better than Rogue.  I'm gonna start callin' you that, just between us."  She didn't say anything, so he prompted.  "OK?"

"If you want," she demurred, slicing some of the bread.  Logan finished with the coffee, pouting some water in the old-fashioned percolator. 

"I do want," he said conclusively.  "And maybe we should talk about a coupla other things I want when it comes to you." 

Rogue tensed.  She chastised herself for not seeing this coming - she'd actually let herself believe he meant it when he said he wanted nothing in return for his protection, for sanctuary here.  Maybe he'd said it last night, maybe he'd even promised, but now, in the light of day, things were different.  It could be because he risked his life to save hers and so now he felt like she owed him, it could be because she looked a lot better to him all cleaned up, it could be what he'd been thinking all along.  It was stupid to have let herself think all that had happened was some big good thing without a price tag attached to it. 

"Maybe that came out wrong," Logan hedged, sensing her anxiety.  "We needta talk about this, us livin' together."

"What about it?"  She kept her eyes on the counter and tried to will herself to be calmer.  He hadn't said what he wanted yet.  Maybe it would be something she could give, something that wouldn't hurt her too much.

"I wouldn't mind some help with, you know, cookin' and cleanin'.  Since you're gonna be livin' here and eatin' the food and makin' the mess, I figure you can help out with that."  He felt, possibly for the first time in his life, awkward.  Marie was taking it all wrong - probably because he wasn't saying it well - and he didn't want that.  He wanted to get off on the right foot today, to reverse the trend of making her frightened, making her cry, and almost killing her that the previous day had seen.  He wasn't proving himself very adept at doing so, and Logan was unaccustomed to incompetence at anything. 

"That's - that's no problem."  Without looking up and definitely without looking at him, she began slicing the hunk of dried meat. 

"OK."   Do better this time, Logan thought, make it come out right.  Maybe directly addressing her fears would be best.  "I'm not gonna hurt ya.  I don't wanna use you for sex.  You're not in any danger.  Got it, Marie?"

"What do you want then?"

"I want us to get along livin' here.  We're stuck for the winter.  There's nowhere else to put ya, the tents are all full up.  I've never lived with anybody before, not up close.  It's a one-room cabin with a little bathroom and toilet room, there's not gonna be any way to avoid each other and I just wanna make sure we hash out how it's gonna be so we get along.  I like havin' my own place, and havin' it just how I like it.  I don't wanna be annoyed or tense in my own house, that's all."

"I'm not going to - to be a bother.  I'll try not to do anything wrong.  Anything else, I mean."  She took in a deep, shaky breath and glanced at him.  "I appreciate you taking me in."

Now she sounded grateful.  That both pleased and irritated him - it wasn't quite how he wanted her to feel about all this.  What he was trying to say was that it was home to both of them now, that he wanted her to feel comfortable, that he wanted to be comfortable too.  His words had made it somehow sound like she was a nuisance.  "You're not a bother.  You gotta live here too.  Just - just don't take anythin' I might say or do the wrong way if it comes outta not bein' usedta livin' with someone, I guess that's all I'm sayin'."

"OK, but - that's it?  Wasn't - didn't you want anything else?"

"No."  She spared him another glance.  "I mean it, Marie, you're not my slave or my sex toy, all right?  You're - you're my roommate for the duration.  I'm gonna look out for ya, and we're gonna get along and that's how it's gonna be.  Got it?"

"I got it," she answered with a genuine smile.  Logan let out a sigh, confident that at least some of what he was trying to convey had gotten through.  "Meat and bread - anything else you'd like?"

"Grab an apple outta the bag, and get one for you too.  When was the last time you saw a piece of fruit, kid?"

"In South Dakota," she answered playfully, and with more than a little obvious relief.  Logan didn't realize it, but he was returning her smile.  "Here.  Let's eat."









The next day brought some easing of the snowstorm and a chance for Marie to take a good look around at her new surroundings.  Logan had suggested taking his jeep to survey some of the land - it was agile and four-wheel drive - but warned Marie that she should dress warmly since the heater didn't work well. 

They embarked on a tour after breakfast.  As they drove, Marie was mostly quiet as Logan pointed out locations of importance - the path Bobby had brought her up after her arrival, the radio towers, and the storehouse, where she could find food, clothing, or things like toothpaste and shampoo.  Logan explained that they'd looted most of the surrounding towns for those kind of things, towns now populated with only the corpses of virus victims, who would no longer be in need of those items.  As they rounded another hill to go further into the park, Marie began to get curious.

"Why did you pick here?  Why Yellowstone?  I mean, you could've picked somewhere more temperate, like San Francisco or something."

"Well, for one, it usedta be a national park and wildlife reserve, so it's pretty unspoiled - no polluted water or soil.  For two, it's got a lotta animals.  Largest concentration of free-roaming wildlife in the lower 48."  Marie gave him a quizzical look, so he clarified, "Food.  For three, it's got water, fresh water, and some hot water if ya need it - a coupla hundred geysers, lotsa rivers, some waterfalls.  Four, lotsa different plants for herbs and medicine and food and whatnot.  It's also got some highly defensible spots - mountains, caves - and it's about 80% forest if you needta hide out.  There's a lotta space - 2.2 million acres.  I like space.  And I don't like cities - San Francisco or anywhere like that - it'd just be fulla bodies, fulla death.  Weren't hardly any bodies to clear out up here, and the people that did live here were pretty self-sufficient.  They had generators, food storage, cabins, four-wheelers, that kinda shit."

"You gave it a lot of thought then, before you settled here?"  Logan glanced over at her.  Deep thought wasn't something he was often accused of. 

"Nah.  Heard 'bout the place and always wanted to see it.  Headed here on instinct after everything went straight to hell.  Found out all that shit after I got here."  Marie smiled broadly at that, and Logan felt a surge of warmth at having amused her. 

"You have good instincts."

"Damn right."  He was smiling back a little now, and she blushed at that.  Logan didn't quite know what to make of that reaction, but he guessed that it was just being on the receiving end of positive attention for a change.  He'd bet she hadn't seen much of that lately.  He had the urge to give it to her now, though.  "You musta had good instincts too to head out here."

She looked at her feet and folded her hands over one another, frowning.  Not the reaction Logan had been going for.  "It was the only place I had left to go.  I tried Maine, but - but they weren't very good to stay with."  The tremor in her voice nearly made Logan growl at the prospects of what kind of treatment she'd suffered there.  "So I left and tried staying with humans.  Vermont, Rhode Island, upstate New York - none of them would have me because - because of my mutation.  I heard rumors about mutants in Yellowstone and I decided I didn't have much to lose."

"Nobody's gonna turn you outta here."  Logan took a hand off the wheel and laid it on her thigh.  "I run the place and what I say goes.  And I say you're stickin' with us."

"Thanks."  She was looking at him again, and Logan was pleased.  "How - how many people live out here anyway?"

Logan gave her leg a final pat and took his hand away.  "148, countin' the children too."

"Hmm," she pondered.  "That's about 14,800 acres per person."

"You got some kinda calculator mutation you didn't tell me about?"  That earned him another pretty blush.  He was getting to like this. 

"No, but I've always been good at math."

"We should stop by and see Hank - he's the resident genius."  That idea appealed to him - for some reason, he wanted Hank to see Marie alive, well, and happy to be in his company.  He wouldn't admit to himself that he might've been concerned about Hank's opinion of him after the stabbing, but he didn't question the urge to go see him either. 

"He's the doctor who came to see me?"

"Yeah.  He's a coupla miles out that way.  Lives in a little buncha former tourist cabins with his son, and Bobby and Scott and his kid."  At the mention of Scott, Logan realized there might be a downside for Marie to this visit.  "I know you probably don't feel too comfortable around Scooter - Scott.  But the truth is, Marie, he's probably the biggest damn boy scout you'd ever wanna meet.  He wouldn't have approved of Jeannie's plan if he knew about it, and I'm pretty sure he didn't know."

"You were pretty sure Jean couldn't have done it until you got proof."  Logan gave out a long sigh at that, then slowed the jeep and put it into park.  He wanted to be able to give her his full attention when he said this.  Judging from her trembly lips and big, scared eyes, he'd frightened her a bit and she was probably still unsure of him, of how he might react.  Well, he was going to take care of that in a second. 

"I know I didn't believe ya when you were tellin' the truth, and I'm sure that's stickin' in your craw.  But put yourself in my shoes - I knew Jeannie a lotta years and here comes some kid I've never seen before in my life tellin' me the woman I knew did this horrible thing.  If somebody said somethin' like that 'bout one of your friends or family, you wouldn't believe 'em right off either."  The way Marie's eyes darted to her shoes told him that maybe she had the kind of family who made believing bad things pretty damn easy.  "I could tell you weren't lyin' by your scent but I couldn't figure it out.  Yeah, I wanted proof, but not because I thought you were a liar.  It's nothin' against you."  When Marie didn't speak or raise her head to look at him, he tried a different tack.  "Look, I won't ask ya to trust Scott not to pull somethin' like Jeannie did on ya.  I won't ask ya to trust him at all.  I'm askin' ya to trust me.  I promised to take care of ya and I will.  Scott - he's around a lot and he likes to think he runs the place.  I let him 'cause that kinda shit is boring and 'cause he needs somethin' to do insteada botherin' me all day.  Trust me, kid.  I'm not gonna letcha get hurt."

"I - I do trust you, I do." 

"Yeah, sure, that's why you're fidgetin' and not lookin' at me.  Uh-huh."

Marie raised her eyes to him, her determination suddenly evident.  "That's not it.  It hurts, OK?  Seeing him, if I have to see his son, it's going to hurt.  It brings back all the memories of what I went through so they can have shiny, happy little lives.  Put yourself in *my* shoes.  How much would you like to see the people who put you through getting the claws and losing your memory?"

"OK.  OK."  Logan sat back a little.  "I get it.  But he's not goin' anywhere.  Like I said, he's gonna be around.  You can avoid him if you want, and we don't hafta go see him now if you don't wanna, but maybe it'll be easier to just get it over with."  Marie was seemingly giving that some consideration.  Logan gave her a few minutes of silence to do so.  "It's your call."

"Fine.  Let's go see them."  Marie shifted in her seat and fiddled with the seat belt. 

"You don't sound too sure about that."

"I'm not.  I'm not in a hurry to hear how wonderful his wife was and to see the child she threw me to the wolves for.  But I think you could be right.  If I get it over with, it'll be easier in the long run."

"Jeannie was desperate, kid.  I can't imagine her doin' that unless she was half-outta her mind with desperation."

"Well I guess that makes it all OK, then."  Marie's sharp tone and her sudden turn toward the passenger side window reinforced the words. 

"No, it don't.  I didn't say it was OK, what she did.  I just - that's probably why she did it."

"But you don't really think she's a bad person because of it."

"I think I ain't got any room to judge in that category."  Marie let out a huff, but remained otherwise still.  "I would never do that to ya, if that's what you're worried 'bout.  It's - yeah, that was one of the worst things I've ever heard of one person doin' to another.  But there was more to her once.  She did some good things with her life too."

"Great."  Now Logan could smell tears.  This wasn't how he'd wanted the day to go.  Their light, fun drive was now an argument and another sad day for Marie.

"Whaddya want me to say here, kid?"  He made sure that his tone was gentle, not accusatory.  "That I hate her now 'cause of what she did to you?  You want some proof that I'm more worried 'bout protectin' you than bein' loyal to her memory?"

"No.  Just - forget it.  Let's just drop it."

Logan pursed his lips in frustration and took a few moments to gather his thoughts.  He wanted this to come out right, or as close to right as he could manage.  "It wasn't typical of her.  She usedta be the kinda person that would never even consider somethin' like that.  But the war, the virus, it musta changed her.  There's nothin' OK about what she did, no matter why she did it.  She deserves to toast in hell for it, OK?  You didn't deserve what happened to you."

"Sure I did.  Sure I did, Logan.  I'm not as important.  I'm not as important as her husband.  My life isn't worth as much as his.  It's not worth as much as her son having a father.  That's what it comes down to, doesn't it?  She wasn't out of her mind with desperation.  She took a good, cold, hard look around and she made a decision.  She saw a freak who'd never have a normal life anyway and figured - why not put her out of her misery if it means my son can get a bedtime story from his own dad?  That's what it was, Logan, not some momentary insanity or lapse in judgment.  She planned.  She chose.  She carried it all out without a second fucking thought."  Logan tensed at the swear word - it was a sign of just how upset she was, not a part of her normal patois, as it was his.  "How would you like me to explain the behavior of the people who hurt you?  How would you like to be told it was just a fluke, something out of character, that they were all really great people deep down or once upon a time?  Would it make you feel any better?  Make you want to meet their wives and children?"  She paused, took a breath, then sniffled and cleared away her tears.  "I can do this and I want to get it over with.  You - it's your place, your rules.  Talk to me about how great Jean was all you want.  Just don't expect me to change my mind.  That's all I have left, OK?  *I* think it was wrong, *I* think she was a cold, calculating, fucking bitch from hell for making me into a little zombie whore, *I* don't think it was OK as long as she was otherwise a good person.  Everybody else can shrug it off and go on with their lives, but if I change my mind about that being OK or not, then I should just - "  She caught herself before she said 'take the cyanide and get it over with.'  That was one thing she'd promised herself never to tell anybody, the ace in the hold she'd always have.  " - just give up."

Logan sat silent for a moment, watching as the tears came down again.  For all the bravado of her words, he could plainly see and smell the hurt and anguish behind them.  He had absolutely no idea what to say to her now, but he knew he had to say something.  "OK.  You're right.  I'll shut the hell up about it.  But all I was tryin' to get across, Marie, is that it wasn't 'cause of you.  That's all I was tryin' to say.  It *was* unusual, and nothin' you or anybody else woulda seen comin'.  It was wrong, really wrong.  And you're right, it was calculated, she chose, just like those fuckers who had me chose to do what they did.  Nothin's gonna make it better or OK."  He paused, checking her reactions and scent, both of which told him he was making a little headway.  "You know, no matter what happened to ya, you could never be the 'w' word."  It sounded silly, even to his own ears, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to say 'whore' in connection with Marie.  "You coulda never done to somebody else what Jeannie did to you.  That's pretty much plain as day, kid.  You got nothin' to feel bad about yourself for outta anythin' that was done to you.  That wasn't your choice, and you're pretty damn strong for havin' survived it with anythin' of yourself intact.  I couldn't.  I lost my memories, can't even reach what they did to me in my own mind.  Just - that's all I was tryin' to say.  I'll shut the hell up about it now.  And it's still your call.  We don't hafta see him today and I can try to make sure you stay separate from him and the kid if you want."

"Let's go," she whispered.  "And Logan - thanks.  Thank you for - for saying some of that."  Her eyes were still stung, guarded, but he thought he saw a little of her warmth there too.

"OK.  Let's go."







Marie had composed herself by the time they reached the former X-men's cabins.  She started a little at the sight of Hank playing outside with Jules.  Logan had failed to mention that they were blue-furred, but her shock quickly melted into delight as she watched Jules playfully hurl a snowball at his father's chest.  The child appeared to have better-than-average aim for his apparent 3-4 year old age.  The fact that Scott was nowhere in sight was helping to sustain her light mood. 

"You sure?" Logan queried as he parked the Jeep and gave a short wave to Hank.  Marie nodded.  "OK, then." 

They both exited the Jeep and walked the few feet to where the two blue mutants had been playing.  Hank's earlier good humor was obviously dampened a bit.  Marie thought she might know why.  Logan had told Marie on the drive over that he had once been an X-man himself, like each of the three men living out at these cabins, but that he'd stopped fighting with them and joined the Brotherhood when the war broke out.  As was typical for him, he provided no explanation to her for that, but he did add that his three former teammates were less than thrilled with him for it to this day.  Marie thought it odd that they'd chosen to live here, in Logan's settlement, given those feelings, but she supposed that, much like her, there were few other options.  Obvious mutants - and Scott, Hank, and Jules certainly fell into that category - wouldn't be welcome in Maine or in a human settlement any more than she had been. 

"Hank, you remember Rogue," Logan said, by way of introduction. 

"Pleased to meet you," he offered politely. 

"Pleased to meet you.  Hello," she directed at Jules.  "What's your name?"

"Jules."  The boy shuffled around to hide behind his father's bulk a bit, but was peering out from behind his leg with interest. 

"Nice to meet you, Jules.  I'm Rogue."  She gave a little wave and smile to him, and he grinned. 

"How are you feeling?" Hank inquired. 

"Much better, thanks."  They all stood there in silence for a few moments.  Hank wasn't quite sure why they were here, and he certainly hadn't expected them.  Since Logan had called with the news that the girl had recovered, Hank thought that he would keep her in the cabin, doing, well, whatever they had been doing previous to her injury.

"I'm showin' her around the place.  Thought we'd stop by so she could meetcha," Logan finally offered.  "You know, in case she ever needs a doctor."

"Of course," Hank replied evenly.  It seemed unusual that Logan would take such measures, he thought, but Logan didn't seem to be concealing any ulterior motive. 

"Wanna pway?"  Jules tossed out the question, then darted back to hide behind his father again. 

"What were you playing?  Snowball fight?"  The child slowly nodded.  "Want to build a snowman or make snow angels?  I'm not very good at snowball fights."  Jules looked up to his dad for permission, and Hank gave a short nod.  One of the reasons he chose to live out here, with only Bobby and Scott within walking distance, was that even here, in a refuge full of mutants, his son still inspired more than his fair share of shocked looks and rude comments.  Hank was used to those being directed his way, but he desperately wanted to minimize his son's acquaintance with the baser aspects of human (and mutant) nature.  Moving out here had sheltered Jules somewhat, but it had also resulted in a dearth of playmates for the young child.  Scott's son, Christopher, was still an infant, and only Hank and Bobby could really participate in play with Jules. 

"'now angels now?"  the boy asked. 

"OK.  Let's find a good patch of snow.  How about over there, on the side of the hill?"  Jules nodded enthusiastically, and took Rogue's gloved hand.  That reminded Hank with a jolt what the girl's powers were. 

"Jules!  Be careful!"  His father's shout stopped the toddler in his tracks and he brought Rogue to a halt as well.  Seeing Rogue's questioning and somewhat offended look, Hank tried for a calmer tone.  "Ah, Rogue's skin is very dangerous, Jules.  It can hurt you.  You must not touch it.  Do you understand?"

Before Jules could answer, Logan put in his own two cents.  "Jesus, Hank, she's covered from head to toe, what's he gonna touch?"

"Her face is not covered, and small children often gravitate to touching adult faces," Hank responded in a rush under his breath.  Then, to Jules, "Do you understand?"

"Uh-huh," he replied.  Hank noticed the sad look on Rogue's face and wished he hadn't had to address the topic in quite that manner, but his paramount concern was the safety of his son, not Rogue's feelings.  Hank watched with a little lingering anxiety as the two headed off for their snow angel spot in a subdued fashion. 

"Nice goin'," Logan commented.  "Dontcha think the kid's fur will protect him, huh?  His skin's covered too."  Hank looked at Logan with wide yellow eyes.  No, he hadn't thought of that, not at all.  "Hard enough on her already, landin' here, havin' a fucked-up mutation, goin' through a shit load of crap.  Thought you'd understand that."  He gave Hank an obvious once-over. 

"I shall apologize to her when they return." 

Logan grunted.  "Scooter in?"

"Yes.  I thought Rouge had already met with Scott when she arrived."  Actually, Scott had relayed every detail, including Rogue's allegations about Jean's behavior, to Hank as soon as he returned from Logan's cabin.  Hank was just as disbelieving as Scott about what the girl had said, but he understood how that kind of trauma can play tricks on a person.  Perhaps she'd misread Jean's involvement somehow. 

"She did.  She's gonna hafta deal with him bein' around, though, and I'd like for him to make sure they get along.  I wanna talk to him before he talks to her."  Logan was already headed for Scott's cabin.  "Knock on the door if they come back over, huh?"  Without waiting for an answer, knocked on Scott's door, then opened it. 









"Hey, One-Eye."  Scott was bouncing his son on his lap, and they'd apparently just finished a feeding. 

"Logan.  What are you doing here?  Is something wrong?"

"Nah.  Brought Rogue over.  Listen, I got some hard things to tell ya."

"Is there a problem with someone in the settlement?  Did something happen?"  Scott was on alert now, in his familiar 'leader' mode.  Christopher fussed a little at the shift in his father's attention. 

"Nah.  Nothin' like that.  It's about Jeannie."

"What about her?  You don't - you don't actually believe what that girl said, do you?  I mean, Logan, she's - "

"She's tellin' the truth.  I had Paul look."  The words hung between them heavily.  Scott was well aware of Paul's powers.  He still just couldn't quite process the implications of Logan's words.  Logan let it seep in for quite a while before speaking again.  He tried to make sure his tone was kind.  "I know you don't wanna believe it, but it's true.  That girl is the reason you're sittin' here, bouncin' Christopher on your knee today."

"I don't believe it.  Jean would never - "

"Yeah, she would.  She did.  I dunno what happened to her, I wasn't around, but it was a war, Scooter, and war changes everybody.  A war followed by a fuckin' worldwide holocaust and the complete breakdown of civilization - I can see how she got far enough gone to think Rogue's life for her son to have a dad was a good trade.  Lemme tell ya somethin', though.  That kid out there - she didn't deserve what Jeannie put her through and she hates your fuckin' guts.  I don't blame her."

"I'm telling you, Jean would never, ever - "

"Look, I didn't tell ya all this to tarnish your memory of your wife.  I woulda never said nothin' and kept that knowledge to my own damn self, but Rogue hasta live here too.  And she's gonna be livin' with me, at least through the winter."  Scott's head snapped up and he finally looked Logan in the eye at that.  "You two are gonna run inta each other.  I'm tellin' ya this, Scooter, 'cause I think the least you can do for the girl is to bend over backwards to make her at ease when she does hafta be around ya."

"I'm not going to believe that my wife, that Jean, was capable of such a thing.  It's - it's just not possible.  Paul must've made some mistake, some error, or he's lying, because Jean - "

"No mistake.  Paul doesn't make 'em.  No lie.  I woulda known."  Logan tapped his nose and Scott frowned, shifting a now-fussy Christopher to his other knee.  "Believe whatever the hell you wanna, but I mean it - don't so much as mention your wife's name around the kid.  Be on your best fuckin' behavior.  She doesn't need any more shit."

"What do you care about it anyway, Logan?"  He didn't answer, and the anger and shock in Scott was just enough to push him to take a jibe or two in the face of Logan's silence.  "What is she to you now, huh?  Your maid, your concubine, what?  I know what happened, I know you stabbed her.  Is that what you're keeping her around for, some sick little game?"

"That's exactly the kinda thing you'd better never fuckin' say in fronta her, One-Eye," Logan growled.  "What she is to me is none of your damn business or anyone else's.  It's enough for you to know that she *is* somethin' to me, and she's not to be fucked with."  He took a menacing step toward Scott and his son.  "I know you like to think you're better than me, Summers, but I'm gonna tell ya somethin' - you ain't.  Stay outta my business."

"Or what?  You'll kick me and Christopher out of the settlement, is that it?  Because good luck running it without me."  Scott stood, boosting Christopher over his shoulder.  The child flailed a little before Scott steadied him.  "I don't think you realize just how much I do around here, Logan."

"Are you gonna be able to keep yourself in line around Rogue or not?  That's all I really wanna know."  Logan crossed his arms over his chest and tapped a foot impatiently.

"I'd never do anything to purposefully cause her any distress, no.  I refuse to believe what she's accusing Jean of, but she's obviously a very mixed up kid and I don't want to see her suffer because of something I'd say or do.  If it makes you feel better, I just won't bring up the topic at all around her."

"See that you don't."  Logan turned in the midst of that final admonition and stalked out the door. 








"That wasn't as much of a complete nightmare as I thought it would be.  Jules was nice."  Logan was still tense from his conversation with Scott, but he was glad to hear those words from Rogue on the drive back.  That, and the hope that the difficult part of the day was over, were beginning to boost his morale.

"He's a good kid."

"I don't think Hank liked me too much."  Hank had been very polite and apologetic to her when she returned from angel-making with Jules, but Logan knew that his first reaction to her had stuck. 

"He's just worried 'bout Jules.  He's overprotective.  Don't let it bug ya.  You OK with Scooter?"

"I guess.  He was - he was very polite, but he looked mad and he smelled off or something."  Logan didn't really want to push the discussion any further.  If she was marginally OK with him, that was good enough for one day.  Maybe a total change of subject was in order. 

"Still got my senses, huh?" 

"They aren't fading at all.  It's a little weird."

"But you're OK with it?"

"Yeah," she answered softly and with more than a little warmth.  "I'm OK with it.  Thanks, you know, for saving my life.  I don't think I've said that yet.  And thanks for everything today."

"What?  Pissin' ya off?  Makin' ya upset?"  Shut up, Logan, he thought, don't remind her how much you've fucked up her day - what are you thinking?

"No.  For talking through it with me after you did and making it better.  I want you to know I really appreciate that."  He just glanced at her, dumbfounded.  No words came out.  Marie seemed nonplused by that, though, and changed the subject herself this time.  "So, what are we having for dinner?"

 

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