What Comes After Title: What Comes After Author: Terri E-mail: xgrrl26@yahoo.com Rating: R, adult themes, references to assault and sexual assault Disclaimer: I don't own any of them except Jules, who I refuse to give up ;) Archive: WRFA, Mutual Admiration, Dolphin Haven Peep Hut - anyone else, please ask and I'll happily provide :) Feedback: Please? With some plot bunnies (no, seriously) on top? Good, bad, and ugly welcome. Summary: There's a moment after you go through a traumatic event that makes you think, just for a second, about what comes next instead of obsessing about what's already happened. Our favorite X-men have more than a few of those moments. Comments: OK, this one is angsty. And not (as you might tell from my not posting it to R/L lists...) very L/R friendly. This is in response to two plot bunnies - one from Jen (rocnrods@aol.com - there's more than one Jen out there!) that asked for a Beast/Rogue story featuring Jules and that had some Marie mommying in the works, and one from Tiffany that was a very angsty Logan/Marie or possibly Hank/Marie story that had Logan leaving Marie when it counted the most and having her find happiness with Hank before meeting an untimely end. Can't say too much more about that one - I might decided to do it as Tiffany intended and not in the mutated version you see here ;) Tiffany's bunny, BTW, triggered this and since I saw it this morning, I haven't been able to do much but write this fic. The other influences have been The Calling's incessantly played but rockin' Wherever You Will Go (don't ask, or these notes will never end), darkstar's brilliant post-Mutant Registration Act fic, la bas, and the occasional bunnies and notes I get asking for a post-MRA fic from me. I don't like to do them, mostly because I think I have a different view of how that would all go - I don't think we'd necessarily be rounding up mutants for concentration camp-type  experiences here in America. Yes, we're a land with a history of slavery, genocide, and prejudice, but we're also a land that tries to, and sometimes succeeds in, rising above all that. I don't believe that we wouldn't try to do better than most people think, even in a post-MRA world; I don't think we would persist in those mistakes indefinitely. The other reason I don't like to do post-MRA fics is that fixing things - relationships, shattered lives, etc. - is a lot more interesting to me than chronicling the destruction of things. I can write all day about two people repairing a relationship after a betrayal or hurt; I'm hard-pressed to write even a few paragraphs describing the character's pain and suffering in detail. It's just a personal bent of mine, and where I'd rather spend my limited fic minutes ;) Anyway, all that is to say - this isn't a post-MRA fic, it's a post-post-MRA fic, set in a world where we've made those grievous errors but where we're also beginning to correct them, and it's more about people rebuilding their lives than suffering through them. Lastly - yes, I think these are the longest author's notes ever written ;) --------------------------------------------------------- The one place he'd never expected to find himself back at was Xavier's. It had been almost two years after he'd left it, eighteen months after the Mutant Registration Act finally passed, fourteen months after they'd started rounding up mutants and creating the 'camps,' seven months after the camps were shut down once people found out what was really going on there, and three months after the MRA was finally officially repealed. All roads seemingly led back to Westchester for him. He kicked at the now-dilapidated sofa a bit while waiting for Jean to get off the phone. He hadn't meant for things to wind up this way at all. He'd left the mansion with Jean for an adventure in Canada. Or at least that's what she called it. To Logan, it looked a lot liking making his usual rounds, only with the added benefit of falling into a cheap motel bed with a beautiful woman every night. He'd meant for it to be a fling, and Jean probably had too. He hadn't meant to spend two years with her. But things back in the US changed while they were gone. When the MRA first passed, there were legal challenges, public debates, and no plans for immediate enforcement, so, while he and Jean were alarmed, there was no cause for panic. The borders had been closed, but they both thought that would change soon, once things settled down a bit. They didn't know that enforcement was already taking place covertly, that the camps were already being set up. They didn't know until they started getting a message that the phone service at Xavier's had been disconnected when they called that something was wrong. By that time, it was already too late. The mansion, and everyone in it, was either dead or in a camp. Of course, Logan didn't find that out until much after the fact. The phone service was just the first clue, the first in a long line of clues he and Jean unearthed over the years. Logan insisted on heading back immediately when the phone service went out. Jean wasn't opposed. She seemed as frantic over Scott as Logan was over Marie. They stopped sleeping together and Logan stopped sleeping at all, devoting every moment to searching for their erstwhile lovers. The first step was to try to get into the US, which wouldn't be easy. The only thing they had going for them was that they'd be arrested by Canadian police on the Canadian side, leading to a fine and perhaps a brief jail stay instead of the internment in one of the camps that getting caught on the American side would bring. They were arrested at the border half a dozen times before they made it across. Once they had made it across, they found out about the camps, they found out that Xavier's had been one of the first places hit in the 'covert phase', and they found out that Charles and most of the kids had been killed in that first fight. Jean eased at that - it meant that Scott had at least survived that fight - but Logan didn't. He wasn't sure if Marie would be counted as a 'kid' or not. By that time, the horrors of the camps had been revealed for all the world to see, thanks to CNN. The public was beginning to shift, beginning to demand the shut down of the camps and the repeal of the act. That was when the damn broke loose in terms of information. Logan and Jean found out more in those first few weeks after the CNN expose than they had in all the prior months. Rumors surfaced that Marie had been spotted alive in one of the camps a few months ago, and so had Scott. Word trickled back that Remy had been killed trying to escape a camp in Rochester, that Magneto was executed outright at one of the camps for some minor infraction, and that Sabretooth had also met his end at a camp, the same camp that Marie was sighted in. Logan and Jean had hope, real hope, for the first time since their search had begun. The past few months had been frustrating. After the initial rush of information, more was hard to come by. The camps had fallen abruptly, and the information they'd held was often destroyed in the process. They hadn't been able to find even one solid lead on Marie or Scott. Logan wouldn't give up looking, though. He'd agreed to Jean's plan to head back to the mansion to make it a home base of sorts, but he wasn't about to sit still. Marie was alive, he had to believe that, and she was out there somewhere. He would find her. It was only a matter of time. "Logan, did you hear me?" Jean had somehow managed to get off the now-working phone and come up beside him unnoticed. "What?" Logan looked over at her. Her face was red with tears. Please not bad news, he thought, please not something about Marie. "Scott - that was Scott! He heard about us - I told you that getting the word out would help. He's coming. He's coming now." Jean had insisted on letting the mutant underground know that they would be reopening the mansion and taking in any mutant who needed help. Logan wasn't wild about the idea, to say the least, and he let Jean know in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't spend time wiping the noses of orphaned mutie kids instead of getting out and looking for Marie. The only persuasive thing that Jean had said was that perhaps Marie would get word and head back here. That had been enough to secure Logan's agreement, if not his cooperation. "What about Rogue? Did he know anything about her?" "Yes. Logan - maybe you should sit down. I think - " "What, dammit?" He grabbed Jean by the shoulders, hauling her to him. His eyes burned, and Jean swallowed hard, not wanting to tell him the news Scott had passed along but realizing he would only get more agitated if she didn't do it immediately. "Scott was with her in one of the camps. Rogue, Scott, Ororo, and Hank - they were all together at first. About six weeks after they were brought in, Hank and Rogue were taken somewhere else. He thinks - Scott's been tracking them since he got out and as best he can figure, they escaped the camp they were transferred to, a few weeks, maybe a month, before it was closed." Jean didn't tell him the rest - that Scott wasn't sure if they'd perished in the escape attempt. Logan didn't need to hear it, Jean thought, he needed to hope. "It's promising, isn't it?" Logan finally exhaled, and released her. "Where did he last have her?" "Vermont. The camp was in the mountains of Vermont." "I'm goin'." Logan headed for the door, only to be halted by Jean's telekinesis. "Let go," he growled without looking back at her. "Wait. Logan, please wait until Scott gets here. He's in the city, in New York, it'll only be a little while. Please just wait. We didn't - he didn't have a lot of time on the pay phone. He might know something else. It would be smarter to wait and get more information." "Let go!" Jean started at his anger and complied, and Logan stumbled forward for a few steps before whirling on her. "I toldya to never fuckin' do that again!" "I know, I - " "Shut the fuck up! Shut up!" Logan's claws sprang out, and he spent a few moments furiously clawing one of the oak beams in the foyer. Jean watched as he spent his rage, waiting until the claws retracted before speaking. "I know you want to find her. This is the best way. Wait for Scott." Logan growled at her, but headed back to the inner recesses of the house. "It's them," Scott confirmed as he stepped out of the phone booth. "Jean and Logan. Good thing I memorized the old phone number." He reached out a hand toward Ororo, and she caught it, gracefully pulling him toward her. He smiled his gratitude. In surroundings that he was familiar with, he could manage well. Here, in the city, surrounded by foreign places, people, and things, he relied heavily on Ororo, just as he had in those first few days after they'd gouged out his eyes. "Are they well?" "They're - they're fine." It seemed an odd thing to be saying. People, friends, weren't ever 'fine.' 'Dead,' 'insane,' or 'hurt' were what mutants were in this world, not 'fine.' Scott tried to push those thoughts away and reminded himself that it was a different world now. Things were changing for the better. The Act had been repealed, after all. Things *would* get better. "They've been in Canada. They're reopening the house, just like we heard. It's not just a rumor. I told Jean we'd be coming up today." "I am glad they are well," Ororo said softly. It was a cliché, but losing his sight had made Scott more aware of his other senses. His sense of smell told him that tears were forming in Ororo's good eye and his ears caught the note of fear and sadness in her voice. He fumbled toward her, awkwardly putting his arms around her and drawing her into an embrace. "Hey, it's going to be OK. I love you." He felt her hugging him back tightly and he knew she was scared. He felt the same way. It would be hard to face their old teammates after what they'd been through, and seeing Logan and Jean would be especially difficult. It wasn't just his missing eyes or Ororo's badly burned face and body. It was seeing them whole, unblemished. It was the fear that they would turn away in disgust because they were not themselves one of the walking wounded, not marked by what had happened, but it was also the fear that you would turn away from them, unable to handle your own envy at their well-being. Scott knew too, for Ororo, it would be the fear that he would somehow fall back into Jean's arms. His weather goddess was not a vain woman, but he knew her scars bothered her, and he knew she had never thought herself as beautiful as his wife. "And I love you. Very much." The tears had crept into her voice now, so Scott held her tighter. "Please - please do not forget that. No matter what." "I'll make you a deal. I'll remember that if you do the same. 'Ro, nothing's going to change between us. It's - it's you and me. I love you." He felt her relax a little in his embrace. "Do you want to not go? I can call Jean back. I can call collect. We could just - " "No," Storm whispered, "Let's go." Scott leaned forward, and Ororo maneuvered herself so that their lips would meet. "Let's go," Scott repeated, finally parting from her and allowing her to lead him toward their car. "I believe I have it fixed now. Would you turn it over once more?" Hank bent over the open hood of an ancient Oldsmobile Delta 88, one that currently served as both his home and his only means of transportation. They'd come across it in a junkyard and he nearly knelt on the ground to give thanks for the day he'd decided to learn some mechanical engineering. He got it running again, with the help of a few parts stolen from other junkers, and they'd had at least some form of shelter ever since. "OK," Marie called out from behind the driver's seat. She turned the key in the ignition, and it started. Hank smiled. One more small success, one more way in which he could care for his family. These little things were important to him now, and, he thought, to Marie. Her smile greeted him through the windshield as he closed the hood. She had one hand resting on the steering wheel and one on his son, who was well-bundled and asleep on the front seat. He flashed back to the day she'd given birth to Jules, a little more than two months ago, here, in this very car. The back seat still bore her bloodstains. Hank's lips curled into a smile when he remembered the sheer joy on her face at seeing him hold up a small, squirming, blue-furred boy. He'd vowed to her that this would be their son, both of theirs, even if she had been made pregnant by someone else. That wasn't her choice, he'd reasoned. He was the one she'd come to willingly, he was the one she loved now, and whoever the father was, he would love the child as much as he did Marie. The emergence of Jules in all his fuzzy cerulean glory, however, made keeping that vow very easy. Moreover, it had brought Marie great joy to know that the child she'd risked both their lives for, the child she'd suffered so much for, was created out of love, not forced upon her by violence. "I believe we are ready to get going." Hank climbed into the back seat, then reached for Jules, carefully bringing him to rest on his shoulder. They both had to hide in the back seat while Marie drove. Even though there were no more camps, no more legal discrimination against mutants at all, two mutants as obvious as Hank and Jules attracted unwelcome attention. Especially in crowded areas, especially in daylight, it was safer for them all that the two men remained hidden beneath blankets in the back. "We should be there in another day or so." Marie paused before shifting the car into gear. "Hank, do you really think it's true?" "If it is not, perhaps we should make it so. It would be a wonderful way to honor Charles' memory." Hank reached his free hand forward to squeeze Marie's shoulder. "It is worth a try, yes?" She brought his hand to her lips for a quick kiss. "Yes." Tears welled up in her eyes suddenly. "Marie?" Hank inquired softly. He knew she was still wading through the aftermath of incredible trauma, and the final experiments they'd performed on her were still taking their toll. She wouldn't have survived at all had it not been for her inheritance of Sabretooth's healing factor. It still surprised Hank that she had treated that beast with so much mercy, granting him an easy death at the cost of having him invade her mind. But, he reminded himself, the rules had all changed by then. They were no longer our enemies, but our brothers in bondage. Even Sabretooth didn't deserve to suffer what they'd planned for him. "Sorry. Just thinking. Sorry." She cried harder, though, and let go of Hank's hand. "Come here, come back here. It's all right." She nodded, Hank situated Jules on the seat beside him, and Marie crawled back into Hank's lap. "Oh, my love. You are safe now. You are safe with me. We are doing well. We will make it to Westchester." He felt her nod against him. "Are you feeling all right? Do you need to rest?" The mutation-suppressing serum she'd been injected with had killed every other mutant they'd tried it on. Despite Sabretooth's powers, she was still very weak and tired. Being pregnant during the experiments hadn't helped. Hank knew she was operating on sheer will over most of the past few months. After she delivered Jules, she often gave up her share of the little food they had to be sure that Hank remained strong, and it overworked her healing powers all the more. She was so run down by the time she delivered, that she hadn't been able to breast-feed Jules, a fact which Hank knew caused her great distress. Hank was optimistic that she would return to full health given adequate food and shelter, but it would take time, maybe a year or more. He hated that he couldn't cure her, couldn't use his knowledge and intelligence to help her, but they were in a survival mode now, and he had to do what was best for the family as a whole. He had to concentrate on food, gas, and formula for Jules. Experiments and expensive lab equipment would have to wait. "Marie?" "I - I might. I'm sorry. You just got the car started up again." She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes. He thought again how beautiful she was, how utterly beautiful. Even when she'd been returned to their cell covered in her own blood and the sweat and semen of other men, she'd looked beautiful to him. He wondered, not for the first time, what it was that she saw when she looked at him. He was even more of a freak now, with his torn ear and cris-crossing burns and scars covering most of his torso and legs. He'd even managed to get an eyebrow singed completely off somewhere along the way. Marie still looked at him as though he were the most welcome sight she'd ever beheld. "It is all right. Let me shut it off." They couldn't afford to keep the car warm when they weren't driving. They could stay here a bit - it was a secluded back street, and Hank doubted anyone would notice, much less care, that they'd parked here. "There." He began wrapping Marie up in one of their many blankets. Thank God for soup kitchens and Goodwill, Hank thought. She cuddled close to him, letting herself cry it out. Hopefully, she would tire herself enough to sleep. Hank could tell she did need rest - her body almost melted itself into his. "Talk to me," she pled, in a whisper. It was a familiar request. She'd asked on one of the first nights they'd brought her back, before she'd absorbed Sabretooth and when her wounds were often reopened before they ever came close to healing. She'd crawled to an also-wounded Hank, settled into his arms, and asked that first time. Each time, his words were similar, but they always comforted her. "I love you, Marie, very much. You are so brave, and so very precious to me. You are the mother of my son, and the love of my life. I will always cherish you. You will always be safe in my arms. I shall never hurt you. I shall never leave you. I will always be here to comfort you and love you, all the days of my life." Those last words held a little hope now; they weren't quite the dark promise they once had been. "We will survive. We will get through this, my love." "Love you too," she struggled out, giving herself up to her exhaustion. Jean wasn't ready for the sight that greeted her at the door, not on any level. She wasn't ready to see Scott's arm wrapped around Ororo, wasn't ready to see him without his visor, wasn't ready to see Ororo so horribly disfigured. She was fairly sure her surprise and shock showed, and she found herself wishing Scott had said something over the phone to prepare her. "Hello," she finally managed. "Please - please come in." Judging from her quick backward glance at Logan, he was equally taken aback. Ororo guided Scott into the doorway and followed Jean's gesture toward the kitchen. No one spoke until they all sat down at the table. Jean looked to Logan, not quite knowing where to start. He just looked scared. Terrified, in fact. Jean didn't need to use her gift to know what he was thinking - had something like this happened to Marie? She decided she would try to begin. "Can I offer you something to drink? We have coffee, and - and water." "Water would be very nice, thank you," Ororo answered a little unsteadily. Jean rose to get her some. "Scott?" "Water is fine." He laid a hand on Ororo's leg, a gesture not unnoticed by either of the room's other two occupants. "How have you both been?" "What all do you know about Rogue?" Scott smirked. He suspected that Logan had just given him his answer, to a lot of questions. "Did Jean tell you about Vermont?" "Yeah. She was in a camp there." Scott couldn't see it, but Logan was fidgeting a little, and his body was coiled with tension. "She - she and Hank tried to escape, about seven months ago, as closely as I can figure. It was a month or six weeks after that, that they closed the camp." "Where'd she go from there?" "Logan," Scott began, in a not-quite-hostile tone, "if I knew where she was, I'd be there instead of here. They tried to escape. That's where the trail ends. 'Ro and I, we've tried everything to find them. The rumors are that - " Scott abruptly cut himself off and Storm looked to him with concern. "What? What're the rumors?" When Scott remained silent, Logan leaned across the table. "Dammit, Summers, if ya don't tell me what you know, I'll get it outta ya," he growled. "Logan!" Jean admonished. Scott waved her off. "What are you planning to do, hmm? Steal my wife? Abandon your friends in their greatest hour of need? Ignore your promise to protect Rogue? Make me watch her suffer? Torture me?" Scott said harshly, and it did give Logan a moment of pause. Scott continued, in a softer tone. "I don't know what happened, exactly. Some of the other mutants that were still alive when the camp was freed said that they'd gotten away. The official records said that both Rogue and Hank were found and shot dead about a mile from the camp grounds. 'Ro and I went to the scene. We didn't find - 'Ro didn't find any evidence of a fight or of anyone being wounded anywhere in the vicinity. Logan, think about it. Hank's a genius. If they got away, he covered their tracks. We're not going to find them, not until they want to be found." "Do you think they might come here? Do you think they might hear about Xavier's being reopened?" "If they are in the east, yes," Ororo responded to Jean's question. "The word has spread throughout the mutant population here. If they have headed west or have crossed one of the borders, perhaps not." "I'm goin' out to look for her. Where was this place in Vermont?" "Logan," Scott leaned across the table to address him, "have you thought that maybe she doesn't want to be found, and especially not by you?" "Fuck off, I'll find it myself." Logan pushed back from the table, toppling his chair in the process. "She used to call out for you at first, you know," Scott called after him, stopping him in his tracks. "The first few times they raped her, beat her, tortured her, we could hear her calling your name. Mostly only when it got really bad, mostly only when she was half-crazy with pain. She stopped calling for you after those first few times, Logan, even when it was horrible. You left her, and she knows that. She knows it deep in her soul now. She knows you left her to that, and I can't imagine why she'd give a damn about you. If she's with Hank, he'll protect her as best he can. She doesn't need you now. If you go after her, it'd be only because you're a selfish bastard who doesn't want to live with his own well-earned guilty conscience." Scott was seething from the recalled memories of those first few weeks that they were all together. "Let her go. If she's still out there and alive, she doesn't deserve being forced to deal with you. She's had enough forced on her, don't you think?" "Fuck you," Logan said, but with no fervor in the words. He stomped out of the kitchen, but Ororo noticed that he was headed for the staircase, not the door. Perhaps Scott's words had had some effect. "He never changes," Scott mused. Just as he finished saying the words, he heard a muffled gasp from somewhere beside him. "Jean?" Ororo looked over to see her former best friend in tears, holding her hand to her mouth to try to stifle her sobs. Her eyes were wide, and red. "She's crying, Scott." Scott almost apologized for his words. He didn't want to cause Jean any unnecessary pain, but he wasn't going to apologize for the truth either. Even if Logan's heart had apparently turned toward Marie, and Jean's toward him, Scott's own heart remained unchanged. It was with Ororo, and now, it would always be. He couldn't imagine anything that would be a stronger bond than surviving what they had been through together. Certainly, his long-dishonored marriage vows weren't. Jean was his wife in name only now, and while he might hope to remain on civil terms with her, he had no desire to go out of his way at all to comfort her. "I was hoping we could stay here for a while." The words came out in an even tone. "This house - Xavier left it to both of us, you and I, Jean." "Of - of course," she sobbed, trying to pull herself together a bit. "Please, I would be happy if you would stay." Scott nodded at that, and Ororo rose to lead him away from the kitchen. Marie awoke to the familiar and comforting feel of Hank's soft fur. She'd slept well, and woke up rested, and in much better spirits. Hank was still slumbering, but her son, Jules, was awake and squirming a little on the seat next to Hank. The child had recently discovered the joy of playing with his own toes, and Marie indulged herself, watching him for a few moments before disengaging from Hank to get the child. Hank woke when she moved, as he always did. When anyone had approached their cell in the camp, Hank knew it, and alerted her. When she woke from nightmares, Hank knew it, and comforted her. She didn't know how she would've ever made it through this without Hank. He was her rock and she loved him with a breadth and depth that only Jules ever came close to. "Did you sleep well, my love?" "Yes. And so did Jules, I think." Marie was slowly gaining confidence in her ability to parent. Not being able to breast feed had been a blow, making her feel somehow fundamentally inadequate as a mother. Hank talked her around, letting her know that breast feeding was one small part of the care she would provide for Jules over a lifetime. "Do we have formula?" Hank nodded, untangling himself from the blankets. "I'll get it." They kept it in the trunk, warming it with their body heat in preparation of a meal. Hank opened the door, causing a rush of cold air to invade their little sanctuary. Jules frowned and let out an experimental cry. Marie held him closer in reply, shielding him from the breeze. Jules looked into her eyes, suddenly fascinated by his mother's face. His big brown eyes were the only visible characteristic he'd inherited from Marie, and she delighted in that resemblance. "How's my beautiful baby boy today?" "Gooo!" "Yes, I'm glad you're having a good day." Jules was beginning to mirror her wide smile. "We're going to feed you and change you and then we're going to go for a drive. You can cuddle up with Daddy in the back. I know you like that." She heard the trunk shut, heralding the imminent return of Hank. "Here he comes..." "Brr!" Hank greeted. "It's snowing quite a bit. We may be delayed some." "That's OK. There's - there's not really a hurry." She watched as Hank held the can of formula to his chest and wrapped his shirt around it to warm it. They had two bottles now, and there was still one clean one in the car. They had accumulated a lot of things, Marie thought. Most they'd come by through charity, and Marie was glad of that. They had very little money and what they did have had to go for gas for the car. For two people who'd left the camp with only the shredded remnants of their clothing on their backs, they'd managed very well, Marie thought. She credited their survival to Hank. She didn't doubt that without his genius and determination, they'd have perished in their escape attempt. "You know, we're doing OK, I think." Hank smiled at that. "We are. And it will get better. We will be able to stay in Westchester if indeed Scott has made it back there." Hank knew well the odds were against that, but he also thought that if anyone could manage it, blind and without powers, it would be Scott. Especially if Ororo were still alive to help him. "I bet he has," Marie encouraged, shifting Jules a little. "I'll be so happy to see him again." "Perhaps then we can get more food for you, and more money," Hank opined. "Everything I need, I have right here. All I ever prayed for was for us to have a healthy baby, and for it to be yours. We have that, and a lot more besides." Hank bent to kiss her forehead. "Is it ready?" Hank removed the can of formula, shaking it a little to even out its temperature. "I believe so." He prepared the bottle for Jules, watching as Marie cooed and caressed him. "Here you go." Marie gently nudged the nipple into Jules' mouth. After a few push-backs with his tongue, he settled it in his mouth and began suckling. "There," Marie cooed. She felt Hank's arm around her, pulling her back to rest against him. She loved it when he held them both like this, and she suspected he did too. "He was hungry," Marie commented. "He is such a happy child." "And beautiful." That got a soft chuckle from Hank. Jules' eyes found Marie's over the rim of the bottle, and he momentarily stopped suckling to smile at her. "That's right, you're very beautiful. Or should I say handsome? You're going to grow up to be as handsome as your Dad one day. You know, I was hoping you'd turn out just like this. You're a perfect little guy." Hank gently nuzzled her neck and tightened his hold on her. "He turned out so well because he had a wonderful mother." Hank remembered the night they decided to try to escape. Mutation suppressing experiments on Marie had begun, which they both knew could endanger Jules, especially in the early, formative stages of Marie's pregnancy. The beatings weren't getting any better, and those, coupled with the rapes, also endangered Jules. The last straw, though, was that Marie had begun trying to appease her rapists, trying to avoid particularly harsh treatment or blows to her stomach so as not to hurt the baby. That was killing her as surely and as quickly as anything else. Hank made a plan. It was a very risky plan, but it had worked, and three weeks later, they were free. He watched her stomach grow in the months that followed, tried to take care of her as best he could. The result, Jules, had been well worth the risks. He couldn't imagine life without his son now. "Grrrghggghhh......" "Go ahead, eat up. You can finish it. We're going to keep you up to the ears in formula." Marie jiggled the bottle to encourage him. "You're going to have a big burp for me this time, I bet." "Would you mind staying here until the snow stops, Marie? I - I would not mind spending some time together, just resting, and we have sufficient formula for Jules." Hank felt a little struck by the undertones of normalcy of it all - his lover holding his child, their worries limited to obtaining a good burp for the moment. He wanted to soak in a little bit more of that, just a little bit more, before they sped off to Westchester to find out what awaited them there. "Sounds good to me," Marie agreed, smiling down at Jules. "Sounds really good." Jean paced back and forth in her room. It was her room, not hers and Logan's. He'd taken his own room when they arrived here, and if she hadn't known before that it was over between them - if months of no sex or even affection hadn't clued her in - she certainly knew now. She'd asked herself a hundred times what she was thinking when she ran off with him, leaving her husband - her *husband* for him. She hadn't come up with many answers, at least not many that made a lot of sense. She'd wanted adventure, excitement, passion, and Logan supplied all of those. But those things, especially now, seemed to be of very little importance. What was important, she tried to remind herself, was that Scott was alive and reasonably well. Yes, he'd lost his sight, and seeing two gaping scars where his eyes once were was more than jarring. But he was alive, and otherwise well. 'Ro, Jean thought darkly, obviously had fared much worse. Jean had heard stories of what happened to mutants in the camps. Before now, before coming back to America, she'd believed about half of them. She'd told herself it couldn't possibly be that bad. Once she got here, she found out otherwise. 'Ro couldn't and probably wouldn't talk to her about it, not now. All Jean had felt from her was fear, fear that Scott would leave her. She depended on him at least as much as he did on her. It put Jean in an impossible position - if she got her husband back, it would probably break her best friend's heart. On the upside, Jean thought sardonically, getting Scott back doesn't seem like a possibility, not judging from his demeanor today. She couldn't blame him - she'd been the one to betray his trust, and by virtue of that decision, she hadn't been there when he needed her. She wasn't fool enough to think the words he'd hurled at Logan weren't meant for her as well. She had a feeling that the worst thing was that she hadn't suffered, at least not physically. Not sharing in that burden had isolated both her and Logan from other mutants greatly. It was as though they were off on some extravagant holiday while their friends and family were being starved and tortured back home. In fact, that wasn't far off. Jean sat down, readying herself for her daily evening meditation. It had been a long time since she'd prayed to the traditional God of her childhood, but tonight she did. She offered up a silent prayer for her husband, her lover, her best friend, and those they'd lost. Her whole heart wished for those prayers to be answered, but her rational doctor's mind doubted that even the powerful God of her youth could set things right. Logan smelled her before she even knocked on the door. He rushed downstairs, dressed only in his boxers, and flung the door wide open. She stood before him, alive, and apparently uninjured, but looking exhausted beyond exhausted. She was also holding a small bundle of something in her arms. "Marie!" Logan ignored his exposed skin, and hurriedly gathered her into his arms. "You're alive! I've been lookin' for ya for so long, I - " "Let go." It came out in a harsh, panicked whisper, and it caused Logan to back away from her immediately. He noticed Hank for the first time, coming up behind Marie and gently examining the bundle she held in her arms. Marie looked to Hank, and he smiled reassuringly. He was far thinner and weaker than when Logan had seen him last, and he bore several ugly scars. Hank gave the small bundle a pat, and he gave another smile to Marie. It still didn't really register with Logan that Marie held a baby in her arms until the bundle cooed. "Marie?" "Can we come in? We - we didn't know it would be you here. We thought it might be Scott. Can we come in just for a few minutes to feed Jules?" "Jules?" Logan asked, dumbstruck. A small blue fist reached over the edge of the blanket, as though in reply to his question. Luckily, Scott appeared in Marie's view, behind Logan's shoulder. "Scott? Scott, is that you?" She brushed past Logan and into the house, rushing to meet Scott. He was still feeling his way down the stairs along the railing, but he'd completed his journey when Marie arrived. She hugged him, careful of her skin and Jules' body. "Oh my God, Scott!" Scott hugged her in return, and Logan could've sworn the man was crying even though he could no longer produce tears. "Oh, Scott, I was hoping you'd be here. I've missed you so much." Scott began rocking her in his arms. "You're still alive, you're still alive!" "Oh, Marie, I'm so glad you found us!" "Scott - " Marie abruptly pushed back from him. "What about Storm? Is she - is she - " "She's upstairs," Scott reassured her, rubbing her arms. "She's been hurt pretty bad, but she's OK." "Worse than - " Scott answered with a nod before she could finish. Marie gave him a tight, sympathetic smile, one she hoped he could feel even if he couldn't see it. "I'm so sorry." "Me too," Scott whispered. "But, hey, what's that you've got with you there?" "It's a baby. It's - it's our baby, Hank's and mine. It's Hank's baby, Scott." Her voice was filled with wonder, pride, and relief. Scott understood. Logan growled. "Do you want to hold him?" Scott nodded eagerly, and Marie placed the squirming infant in his arms. "I see he takes after his father," Scott said, coming into contact with the infant's fur. He shifted Jules around to rest on his shoulder. "That he does," Hank agreed, finally crossing the room to join them. "It is good to see you again, my friend." "I knew if Marie made it here, you wouldn't be far behind." Hank clapped Scott on his non-Jules- bearing shoulder soundly. "Fine son you've got here." "We think so," Hank answered, perhaps a little too insistently. His words caused Marie to look back over her shoulder at Logan, then to move to nestle herself into Hank's side. "We named him Jules, after Jules Verne, but his middle name is Scott." Scott's jaw trembled a bit at that and he leaned his head down to gently meet Jules'. "Goo," Jules declared. "How old is he?" Scott asked, smiling at Jules' contribution. "Two months," Marie answered, winding her arm around Hank's waist and giving him a squeeze for good measure. "Two months? Then - then you were pregnant when you escaped?" Hank and Marie exchanged looks. "We heard a little about it. We've - Ororo and I - have been looking for you." Logan caught the clarification, and he wandered a little closer to the gathered group, but he didn't speak. "Yes," Hank finally answered. "That is why we took a chance on escape. We decided - we decided that Marie and the baby were in too much danger should we have stayed." "I've got to go wake up Ororo," Scott said, changing the subject with determined cheerfulness. "She's going to want to meet Jules right away." Hank gently took his son from Scott's arms. "Need any help?" "No, no, Marie, I've got it. I'll be right back down." Marie watched him go for a moment, and then her eyes turned to Logan, who had been staring at her quite intently the whole time. "How - how are you?" "I'm fine," he answered slowly. "Are you OK?" Marie nodded, finding her way to Hank's side once again. "Marie, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I - I - " She held up a hand, interrupting him. "I know you're sorry. I do. I - I don't really want to talk about it, though. I'm glad.I'm glad that you've been safe and well." Logan could tell that the last few words had cost her a lot to say, but he could also tell that she meant them. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, not knowing what else to say. Marie smiled tightly, and turned her attention back to her son. "Buhhhh.." Marie gently stroked her son's cheek with a crooked finger. "Maaaa.." "He's probably hungry. We - we still have some formula, don't we, Hank?" Hank looked to her with soft eyes and nodded. "I'll go get it. I bet we've got a clean bottle in the car too. We washed both up after that last feeding, didn't we? I'll just - " "Let me," Hank gently interrupted, handing their child to her. "It is quite cold out." Giving Logan an almost-not-obvious glance on his way out, Hank made his way to the car. "Marie," Logan began, "I never meant for ya to get hurt. I - I know I promised to take care of ya and then I - " "I said I don't want to talk about it, Logan." She bounced a squirmy Jules a little. "What's done is done." Just then, motion at the top of the stairs caught Marie's attention. Thinking it was 'Ro, she turned toward the source of the commotion with a smile on her lips. That smile faded when she saw Jean instead. "Rogue?" Jean asked, descending the stairs. She looked perfect, Marie thought, as beautiful and unblemished as ever. She was even wearing a white nightgown. She looked like a vision, an angel. "Hello," Marie replied. "Oh, Rogue, I'm so glad to see you! We've all been so worried." Marie just frowned at that, and held Jules a little closer to her. Jean seemed to suddenly notice the baby in Marie's arms. "Is that - is that a baby? You - you have a baby?" Marie didn't respond, but Logan could smell sadness coming off of her, and he instinctively stepped between the two women. "Is it Hank's?" "Of course it is," Marie said, backing away from the stairs a little. "Im sorry," Jean offered, "I just - I thought - " "I know what you thought." Marie was now taking steady steps backwards, and Jean noticed the snarl across Logan's features. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm really very sorry." Hank entered to find the tense scene, having retrieved Jules' things. Jean's eyes went to him right away. "Hank! I'm so glad to see you." Marie backpedaled even further as Jean finished her descent. Marie's body language told Hank that something was wrong, but he wasn't sure what. There was something about the way Marie was holding Jules - very tightly, and angled away from Jean. It was as though Marie feared that Jean would automatically abscond with any of her loved ones. That's actually it, Hank realized. Marie's reacting on instinct. "It is good to see you as well." Hank came up behind Marie, letting her continue to back up until she ran into him. He put a soothing hand on her back, and she did seem to relax a little at his touch. "How have you and Logan been?" Hank tried to keep his voice even, but he must've failed miserably because both subjects winced at his tone. "Ahem. I gather you are well." "Yes," Jean answered quietly. "We've been very lucky." Logan still seemed a little caught up in defending Marie against some perceived threat. He was facing Jean again with that same snarl on his face. "It's my baby, Jean," Marie said, quite defensively. "Mine and Hank's." Hank was a little lost at the sudden outburst. "Not anyone else's." "Of course. I - I didn't mean to imply that it wouldn't be Hank's. Of course it is." Hank clued in at that, and his own anger flared a little. How could Jean have been so insensitive to insinuate a question as to the child's parentage? Hank inwardly raged for a brief moment, but then he remembered - Jean hadn't been through what they had. She didn't have the emotional sensitivities, the experiences they all shared. It may still have been insensitive, but Jean didn't know the depth and breadth of the hurt she'd caused. She couldn't. She hadn't lived it. Marie had. "I'm very sorry, Rogue." "I'm called Marie now," she whispered, pressing her back into Hank's frame. "Marie. That's - that's a very beautiful name." Jean smiled a little. Hank wondered if she was really naive enough to think that would ingratiate her with Rogue after stealing the man she loved, breaking the heart of her good friend along with her marriage vows, and, now, insulting the parentage of her child. Maybe that's how it used to work, Hank conjectured. Maybe in the old world, that passed for manners. "Thank you," Marie replied stiffly, showing some manners of her own. "I - I'd like to feed Jules now. Is there a chair around here somewhere?" "Take the couch. I'll get a fire goin'." Logan gestured to the den, and Marie gave him a small smile before heading off in that direction. Hank followed, keeping a close eye on Jules and Marie. The six ex-x-men settled in for the winter at the Westchester mansion. No one really had anywhere else to go. None of them had jobs, and what little was left of Charles' fortune aside from the house and grounds was long gone. The only one bringing in money was Logan, who fought in the city. There was, apparently, still an audience for that. The house was quite tense in those first few days, but things soon settled into a reasonably relaxed pattern. Logan kept to himself in his room, which was on the second floor of the west wing. Marie and Hank took the floor above Logan on the same side, and Storm and Scott took the opposite end of that floor. Jean had moved herself out to the boathouse, which seemed to be most comfortable for all involved. They took in strays, mutants with nowhere else to go, but they stayed in the student rooms on the top floor for the most part. Logan and Marie rarely spoke beyond the living necessities. However, the fact that formula for Jules and diapers tended to appear in the kitchen pantry of their own volition did not go unnoticed. Hank thanked Logan at first, only to have him vehemently deny any knowledge or responsibility for getting the supplies. It was obvious that Logan was lying - he was the only one with an income of any sort at the time; the rest of them sold the mansion's furniture and fixtures for what they or the others needed - but Hank couldn't figure out why. He asked Marie why she thought Logan would deny it, and she would only say that he has his own sense of honor where these kind of things are concerned. Hank redoubled his efforts to find a job. No one wanted to employ a mutant. The fact that a mutie maintenance man had snapped and killed six of his co-workers over the winter, blaming camp-induced post-traumatic stress syndrome, wasn't helping. Even with his brilliant resume, Hank couldn't find a single job as a doctor, or even a nurse. Eventually, he took a job as day watchman at a pharmaceutical company. He apologized when he told Marie the news, saying he was sorry he couldn't provide a better life for her and Jules. She blinked at him once, then twice, then reminded him that neither of them would have any life without Hank. She said she was proud of him for staying with them and taking care of them, and that it meant the world to her. Hank accepted her reassurances, but worked most nights in what was left of the mansion's medlab, trying to invent something patentable, something that would bring in enough money for him to quit the watchman's job. During one of those evenings when Hank was in the lab, Logan had the opportunity to spend some time with Marie. She never spent much time with him alone. Logan knew it was out of respect for Hank, and he honored Marie's intent. But he couldn't help it sometimes, couldn't help sneaking peeks at her as she played with Jules or when she fell asleep on the couch in front of the fire. Marie loved having a fireplace, and often asked Hank to make a fire for her and Jules, sitting her family down before it to watch the dancing flames and to just be together for a few peaceful, happy moments. In addition to the mysteriously-appearing formula and diapers, there was always a ready supply of cut wood by the fireplace. Logan was watching Marie sleep in front of the fire now, watching over her as she fidgeted and squirmed in distress. She often had nightmares, Logan knew. He heard frantic, pained screaming and crying come from the room she shared with Hank on more than a few occasions. It cut him to the quick to hear it. He knew it was just a pale reflection of the reality of what she'd been through. He ached to hold her, to somehow make it better, but he knew he'd lost that chance. The die had been cast on the day he left with Jean for their Canadian 'adventure,' leaving Marie alone and unprotected. She was thrashing around now, worse than Logan had ever seen her. He cautiously approached her, intending only to get a closer look, to be sure she wasn't in any serious trouble. When he got close, though, he couldn't resist stroking her hair. He'd forgotten how soft it was, how the white curls drew him in like a magnet. He enjoyed the feel of her for a moment before she started, sitting bolt-upright and crying. "Hank! Where's Hank?!" Marie was nearly hyperventilating and the tears were coming in volume now. Logan was taken aback a bit, but not enough to prevent him from providing an immediate, comforting answer to her. "He's downstairs, in the lab, darlin'. He's right downstairs. Scooter's got Jules. They're out for a walk with 'Ro. Everythin's OK." "Hank" This time, his name was a sob, and she began to choke on her own tears a little. Apparently, what Logan said hadn't registered. "Hank.." "I'll - I'll get him, huh? It's gonna be OK, I'll get him." Logan ran for the basement stairs, panicking a little himself now at Marie's distress. He'd never seen her, or anyone, quite this upset. "Hank! Marie needs you!" It came out in a clipped bark, and Logan quickly rushed back to Marie's side. "Hank." Marie sobbed pitifully. She's calmed but was somehow even more upset, sadder. "Hank, please help me." "He's comin', darlin'." Logan reached out a hand to her, intending to comfort her, but that produced a very bad reaction. "AAAAAAHHHHH!!!! NOOOOO!!!!" Marie scuttled back frantically, arms and legs trying to push her small body as far back into the couch as it would go. "Shit!" "Noooooo!" Her panic was back, and she was once again on the verge of hyperventilating. Luckily, Hank came bounding over at that moment. He unceremoniously shoved Logan out of the way and crouched down before Marie. "Hank?" she squeaked out between the sobs. The hopefulness and desperation in her voice tore at both men's hearts. "It is me, my love." Hank made no move to touch her. He smiled reassuringly, and made sure he was in Marie's line of vision, but he made absolutely no move toward her. Logan wanted to just kick himself. "Oh, Hank." Marie opened her arms to him, and then, Hank finally moved to hold her. He deftly shifted her around so that he was sitting upright on the couch and holding her tightly to his chest as she lay across his lap. "Hank." Marie broke into loud, uncontrollable sobs and wails. "Shhh," he soothed. "I am here. It is all right." "Nooooo," she cried out pitifully, "no more, nooooo.." "It is all right. You are with me. You are safe now." "Don't - don't let them touch me anymore, please, please Hank, please.." Her crying hadn't abated any and choked sobs punctuated her words. "No more, I can't, I can't take any more, please!" "You are safe with me, Marie. Shhh. You are with me now." Hank's actions didn't seem to be that effective in comforting Marie, and Logan's anger flared a bit. "Why dontcha tell her nobody's ever gonna fuckin' touch her again? 'Cause it'll be over my goddamn dead body." "Because, Logan, I do not wish to make her promises that I may not be able to keep. I cannot even promise to defend her to my last breath, even though I would gladly do so, because I have a son to consider. It would be pleasant to have the luxurious illusion of believing I could make those words so, but reality has taught me otherwise. I cannot guarantee her that she will not be hurt again. I cannot guarantee that they will not put us in camps again. I cannot guarantee that she will be safe. However, I can promise her that *I* shall stay with her no matter what comes and that she will always be safe from harm when she is with me." Hank said the words with no small amount of bitterness and pent-up anger, and he realized as he finished that there was still a very distraught Marie in his arms. "It is all right, my love. I am here." "No more," she sobbed again. "Pleeeeeaasseeee, noooooo.." "You are with me now, and safe. You are with me now, Marie." "Hold me." Logan saw her hands dig into Hank's shoulders roughly. "I've got you. You are with me now." Hank seemed to ignore her death grip on him and he began stroking her back and hips. "Just you. Just you. No one else. I don't want anyone else touching me. You're the only one I want to." It seemed to be working now. Marie's sobs were slowing. "Please, Hank." "Just me, my love. When you are with me, it will be just you and I, and no one else shall matter. I will hold you and make sure you are warm and safe in my arms." "Don't let go," Marie whispered, almost calm now. "Never," Hank whispered back, indulging himself a little despite his words to Logan. The two men silently watched over Marie, watching her breathing even out and her body relax into Hank's. "Is she gonna be OK?" Logan ventured it in a whisper, when he was fairly sure that Marie was asleep. "Yes," Hank whispered back. "She wasn't actually awake, you know. It is sort of like sleepwalking, only doing so with a particularly bad nightmare. She will have no memory of this incident. She will know she has had an episode when she wakes - she will have the feeling of having cried quite a bit, and I will be wrapped around her - but she will not remember the particulars." "How often does this happen?" Logan had heard Marie's screams in the night, but he'd never seen her in this state. He prayed that every nightmare he'd overheard wasn't this bad. "Now, probably once a month or so. The interval between them is getting steadily longer. That is a positive sign." "Isn't there anythin' we can do? Some - some kinda medicine to make her sleep, or somethin'?" "I have discussed those options with her, and we have not decided to follow that treatment path. It is actually beneficial on a psychological level for her to exorcize these memories and fears." "How can you stand seein' her suffer like that?" There was no accusation in Logan's question, only wonder. "I can stand it because I must. And because I have seen her suffer much worse," Hank answered matter-of-factly. "I dunno if I coulda taken it." Hank thought about that for a moment, then decided something. "You know, on our second night here, I asked her. I told her that I loved her with all my heart and that I could not begrudge her any happiness. I told her that I would understand if she wished to be with you. I told her I knew that she still loved you. I told her that I would care for Jules, that she was free to choose whatever life she wished for herself. I told her that that was what I wanted most for her now. And then I asked her. I asked her if she would like to go to you, to be with you now." Hank paused, shifting Marie in his arms a little. He looked down at her as he continued. "I could not bring myself to ask on the first night, I admit. I wanted one night with her in safety. I wanted one night, just one, that I could believe was because she wanted me, loved me, not because I was the only thing she had to hold on to. I could not ask her on the first night, but on the second night, I made myself do it. Do you know what she told me?" "No." Logan was hanging on Hank's quiet words, standing stock still. He was gazing down at Marie as well. "She said she forgave you for breaking your promise, then she begged me to forgive her for that. Of course, I told her that did, and I encouraged her to follow her heart. She would not say anything more about you, but she became desperate, almost hysterical, when I tried to discuss separating from her. She simply would not have it. She cried in my arms for so long that night. After she managed to calm herself somewhat, she held me and told me she loved me, and I told her the same. She said - she said that if she could have anything that she wanted in the entire world, it would be a life with me, raising our son together and loving each other. She has been a wonderful, loving, giving partner to me ever since." "She loves you a lot." "Yes. And she still loves you as well. Do you understand what I am trying to tell you, Logan?" "No," he answered plainly. "Logan, Marie has Sabretooth's healing powers. She will not age, not like the rest of us. She will long outlive me, and, it is quite likely, Jules as well, unless he has inherited her borrowed powers. I do not wish for her, Logan, to spend her long life alone and unloved. In fact, I do not wish for her to spend a single moment of her life in that fashion. I think that the least you could do for her, given all that you have, quite frankly, failed her miserably in, would be to see to it that she is happy after I am no longer able to see to that myself. Do you understand now?" "Yes." It was an honest answer, but not an easy one. "If - if it's what she wants. It's up to her." "Yes, it is. But I know my love's heart well." Hank shifted Marie again, laying down with her a bit. Logan took it for the cue that it was, and left them to their privacy. Scott held Jules in his arms as they walked in the crisp spring twilight. 'Ro had been holding back the unseasonable breezes that threatened so that they could finish their path along the lake in relative comfort. She never tired of being outdoors, of using her powers and feeling nature answer her commands. It was worse, in some ways, to be deprived of those experiences, than anything else she had suffered. "And somewhere around here is the boathouse, where Jean lives." Scott was narrating the sights (from memory) to a very attentive Jules. Ororo had noticed that she and Scott were 'Auntie 'Ro' and 'Uncle Scott' to the infant but that Logan and Jean were simply Logan and Jean. "We're almost back to the house now, Jules." "Scott," 'Ro ventured nervously. "I was wondering if we might talk a bit before we return to the mansion." "Sure. What's on your mind?" She was silent for a few moments, and Scott knew whatever it was must be serious. "'Ro?" "Can we discuss your marriage to Jean?" Jules, his attention caught by 'Ro's speech, squirmed in Scott's grasp to get a better look at her. "What about it? It's over, 'Ro, you know that." "You have not divorced her." "It costs money, and it's a luxury we can't afford right now. As soon as things get better for us, as soon as - " "Now, Scott." Scott stopped in his tracks. He'd never known 'Ro to be demanding. In fact, she'd never been anything but shy and careful whenever the subject of Jean had come up before. "It is not a luxury in my eyes. I am willing to sacrifice from the necessities to help us gather the money. I cannot - I cannot - " She broke off, but she didn't sound like she was crying. Scott would've given a lot to see her face at that moment. "I cannot wait much longer for you to decide what it is that you want." "I want you," he answered firmly. "Look, if it's important to you, I'll get the money somehow. I can - I'll just get the money somehow. I don't want to lose you." "If you wish to try to make your marriage work, I shall not stand in your way. I appreciate all you have given me, but I - " "Whoa, whoa, stop right there. What's bringing all this up? How long has this been on your mind? I don't have any intentions of going back to Jean. Not now, not ever. Even if - even if I could forgive her for Logan, even if I could forgive her for not being there when I needed her, when her friends and students and her mentor, Charles, when we all needed her, even if I could do all that, she still wouldn't know me, not like you do. It's just not possible. She hasn't been through what we've all been through. And I couldn't trust her, not for a lot of reasons. I'll always be sorry for the way it turned out between us, but, 'Ro, there isn't any love in my heart for Jean any more. You're the only woman in my heart." He heard her move closer to him, and felt her run a gentle hand across his arm. He thought she was probably rubbing Jules' back as well. Judging from the infant's contented cooing, Jules was as comforted by her touch as Scott was. "I love you, 'Ro. Please don't - don't think those things. Don't worry about Jean. I'll get divorced right now. I'll find the money. Don't be upset, please." "I love you very much," 'Ro whispered close to his ear. "And I do not mean to be demanding." "No, no, not at all. I should've thought that - " "It is simply that I do not wish for Jules' cousin to come into the world while we are still unmarried. And we cannot marry while you are still married to Jean." "Of course not. Of cour - uh, 'Ro? Jules' cousin?" "Since Hank has honored you by giving his son your name, my tribal tradition would demand that your son carry Hank's name, making them cousins of a sort. If it is a girl, we should name it for Kitty or perhaps Jubilee. I think it would be a fitting tribute." Scott *really* wished he could see her face now. He'd bet it held a gentle smile with equal hints of sadness and joy. He'd love to see her like that. "You're pregnant?" "Yes." "And did you just propose to me?" "Yes." Scott broke into a broad grin, one he knew would make her smile in return. "I knew you had the hots for me pretty bad." "Scott" He was sure he knew what she'd look like now - blushing at him and scolding him with a small frown. "Let's get married, then. Let's get married." Ororo hugged him, hugging Jules in the process as well. "Buh!" They both laughed a little at Jules' endorsement before sharing a tender kiss and heading back to the mansion. Hank watched as Marie surfaced slowly from her nap. He'd been thinking quite a bit about his talk with Logan, about whether he'd done the right thing by telling him all that he had. There was a small part of him that raised pricks of fear at the thought of Logan knowing that Marie still cared for him. That part warned him that Marie would, and probably in short order, realize that she was meant to be with Logan, that the man had made one mistake - only one small mistake in the scheme of things - that had led to consequences he'd never imagined. One day soon, Marie would walk away from Hank and Jules and toward the man she'd really loved all along. The bigger part of him, though, wanted to be sure that Marie would be cared for, loved, after he was gone. He trusted that part - it had never failed him thus far. And, after all, it was the part that told him to consent the first time Marie came to him seeking his touch, seeking to erase the horrible memories with better ones of the two of them together, despite his reservations about taking advantage of her. It turned out to be something that they not only both desperately needed at the time, but the basis for their relationship now. It had also brought them Jules, the son they both so deeply loved. "Did I fall asleep?" Marie was still groggy, even as her eyes opened. "Yes," Hank answered, stroking her cheek tenderly. "Was I sleep walking again?" "Yes. It was not as bad as the past few have been." She frowned a little at that anyway. "Logan was here. He called me." "Where's Jules?" "Scott still has him. He and Ororo are playing with him in our room, with his toys." Marie sat up a little, keeping both arms wound around him as she did. "How are you feeling, my love?" In reply, she gave him a soft, tender kiss. It had been much to Hank's joy that his hypothesis about Marie's ability to touch him after bearing his child was proven correct. Although he'd never been as limited as others in that department, due to his fur covering, there were some things he still couldn't do with Marie. Kissing was at the top of his list when they decided to test Hank's theory. Hank kissed her back now, but let her stay in control of it, as always. She kissed him for a good, long time before drawing away. "After we put Jules to bed tonight, will you make love to me?" She asked it looking up at him with big, glistening eyes. He was always a little surprised, a little absurdly grateful when she asked. It was a confirmation of her love and her desire for him, and he guessed he'd never quite get used to having those two things so readily given to him. "I would very much like that." His answer got the hoped-for smile and quick kiss. "But you haven't answered my question, love. How are you feeling?" "Tired. But I'm getting better. It's getting out of my system, I can tell. I'm a lot better than I used to be when we first got here." "Would you like to rest this evening? I can forego my lab work and perhaps we can have dinner in our room tonight." That idea was very appealing to Hank at the moment. He felt an instinctual need to gather his family close to him tonight. Marie must've been sensing that need, at least a bit. She didn't usually agree to rest without putting up at least some token resistance. But tonight, she answered, "That sounds perfect. I'd really like a quiet night, just us." "Yes?" "Yes," she answered confidently. "But don't go off to make dinner just yet. I want to cuddle with you for a while." "You know, I am very glad that you would like that. I was just thinking that some quality cuddling had been sorely lacking from my day." They both laughed, but Hank had meant the words. If a day passed without holding Marie, giving her tender caresses and gentle kisses, Hank missed it terribly. It served as an affirmation that she still loved him, still needed him. Luckily, Marie had seen to it that not many of those days happened. She fastened her arms around his torso and hugged herself to him, dropping her head to rest right over his heart. He never tired of holding her this way. "Was everything OK with Logan?" The question caught him off-guard a little, so there was a pause before his response. "Yes. He was a little frightened by your sleep walking episode, but he called me right away and everything was fine." She digested his answer for a while, then began running a hand back and forth across his chest. "Do you know why I think I never remember those?" "Hmm?" "Because I wake up with you afterwards. I wake up with you and everything seems right in my world." That brought a warmth to Hank's heart and a smile to his lips. He tightened his hold on her a little, and lost himself in the feel of holding her close. For now, he put any worries about what would come after this moment out of his mind. For now, what comes after wasn't as important as holding on to what he had now.