Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

Comments: This was inspired by a plot bunny from Lisa-Marie requesting the appearance of an ImposterLogan that no one susses out except Marie. I think she probably envisioned a darker, angstier story than this one turned out to be, so if any of you are inspired to do another take, please do! Jean gets some rough treatment here, but that's what she gets for dumping Scott, who I'm oddly liking a lot lately ;)

Logan returned unexpectedly. He'd been out of contact for over a month, which was unusual. Well, it was unusual to Rogue. Logan made it a point of calling her once a week. He did it religiously, paranoid about Magneto escaping from jail or other Brotherhood members trying something. When the calls stopped, she worried, but everyone else seemed to think it was just 'typical' Logan. Only Rogue thought it was unusual; unfortunately, things didn't get any more usual when Logan returned.

He drove Scott's bike right up to the front entrance and flung the doors wide open. He was windblown, chomping on a cigar. "I'm back," he announced, smirking. Rogue had heard the bike and rushed to meet him. In fact, she was the first one there and the only one to hear his pronouncement. Sharp eyes met hers as she bounded down the stairs, but her joy at seeing him back in Westchester and seemingly well quieted any concerns that might've triggered. She finished her descent and rushed to embrace him.

That was when the first unusual thing happened. He put both arms up in a 'stay-away' gesture, effectively halting her a few feet from him. "Whoa there. Deadly skin, remember? 'Cause I sure as hell do." Rogue's eyes widened and she flinched. "Sorry, kid, but, ah, a couple times of gettin' the life sucked outta ya makes ya skittish."

"Yeah, I betcha you are." That response confused Rogue even more, and it showed clearly in her expression. But before she had the chance to ask any questions, Jean entered from the hall.

"Red," he purred. "It's damn good to see you again." Large hands wandered south to cup her buttocks, pinning her hips to his. Jean blushed but didn't pull back. "Damn good."

"You know, I, ah, broke off my engagement to Scott." Rogue watched with fascinated horror as the pair began swaying, grinding against each other, seemingly oblivious to her presence.

"Really? Surprised to hear that." Rogue's nose crinkled at that. Logan shouldn't be surprised - Rogue had told him the news over the phone herself. "I thought you were glued to his side, Jeannie. What happened? Get tired of waitin' around for a real man?"

Logan must've realized he'd overstepped, because his expression became joking. "I'm just kiddin'. I'm sorry it didn't work out for ya. But not that sorry." He pulled her flush to him again, picking up where they'd left off.

"Get lost, huh, kid? I got some catchin' up to do with Jeannie." Not waiting for a response, or seeing Rogue's wet eyes, he hefted a giggling Jean over his shoulder and stalked to the den. Rogue stood in the foyer for a while, upset but somehow unable to move from that spot. She found her feet when the first of Jean's soft moans reached her ears, followed shortly by the sound of Logan's laughter.

"But Jubes, I'm telling you - it's not like him. Not like him at all." Rogue sat on her bed, trying to calm her tears, as she poured out her heart to her friend. "Something weird is going on."

"No, no, it's not just that. He - " Marie almost spilled her secret. In their last phone call, Logan had told her he cared about her and wanted to be with her when he returned. She grilled him on it - she wanted to make absolutely, positively sure that he meant what she thought he meant. He had. And he'd said that he loved her to boot, a sentiment she eagerly returned. But she'd told no one, wanting to savor the knowledge for herself, and wanting to give Logan the chance to make their relationship public at his own pace. " - he just wouldn't jump on Dr. Grey, I know he wouldn't. And it wasn't just that - he wouldn't touch me. He acted like he was afraid of me. Logan's - Logan's never been like that, not even a little bit, not even after everything that happened."

"I know, I know," Jubilee soothed. "But he's a guy and therefore, ergo, he's prone to reverting back to his natural 'asshole' state at any moment. I'm telling you, chica, try playing for the other team. Girls aren't assholes nearly as often as guys."

"Rogue, chica, best friend, sister, compadre." Jubes intoned the words and took Rogue's hand in her own. "I know you love the guy, I do. But you've gotta face facts. He's being a jerk."

"Look, just - just sleep on it. See if you feel any different in the morning. If not, go talk to Scott or the Professor. They'll help you sort it all out."

"Come on, let's go raid the kitchen for ice cream. That'll perk you right up." Rogue allowed Jubes to pull her off the bed and toward the door. "And if it doesn't, we'll move on to chocolate. Come on."

Rogue followed her best friend's advice, sleeping on the matter. But, instead of going to Scott or Charles with her concerns in the morning, she went right to the man himself - Logan. She knocked on his door after watching for Jean to scurry out in the wee, early morning hours. He responded with a husky, "Back for more?" which she also found strange. Shouldn't he be able to smell that it's her, not Jean?

Rogue slowly opened the door and walked inside, only to find a completely naked and quite excited Logan lying on the bed, on his back, with his head propped up. Upon catching sight of Marie, he made no effort to hide his nakedness, but he said, "Stay put. Don't come any closer."

Rogue's eyes narrowed on his. "Who are you and what did you do with Logan?" she asked, dead serious. For a moment, she thought she saw surprise flit across his rough-hewn features, but then he dissolved into laughter.

"Jeannie told me you got a crush on me. Get over it, OK? I, ah, like you and all, but you're just not a normal mutie, you're some kinda mutie freak and just a kid besides. I wanna get with somebody who knows what they hell they're doin' and I sure as hell wanna get with somebody I can touch. So, scoot. Go on back to your room and play with your Barbies or some shit. I got things to do."

"I'm telling you, something's wrong!" Scott exchanged a look with the Professor. Rogue had taken a short cut and brought them both together to hear her claims of strange behavior where Logan was involved. So far, she'd not made much headway with the men, each offering condolences that her relationship with Logan wasn't going as she hoped, but no help beyond that. "It's - it's a world full of mutants, weird things are possible. Telepaths, clones, shape shifters - don't you think you should at least check it out, just to be on the safe side? Don't you think it's worth a look?"

"Rogue," Scott began in a soft tone, "believe me, I'd love for that to be the explanation for this. I don't want to see you get your heart broken. But I know what kind of man Logan is. I know that you don't think of him as capable of being rude and mean to you, but it's better that you find out now instead of later. It's better - "

"Please," the Professor soothed, "do not yell. I agree with Scott. Rogue, I understand why it may be easier to believe some wild theory about Logan being mind controlled or cloned than to believe he would, well, reject your attentions, to be blunt. It is easier to conceive of - "

"Do not lecture me, Charles," a cold voice emanating from Rogue's body snapped out. "Sorry," she apologized, back in control again. That did *not* help her credibility. "But I mean it - it's just - something's wrong. If you could at least check it out, I'd feel better. I'd feel better and you could prove me wrong. Please."

"I'm sorry, Rogue, but we're very busy right now. You know that the conference on mutant education is just a few days away. Soon, we shall have hundreds of mutant children and teachers here. We don't have time to spare at the moment. I promise you, as soon as the conference is done, we'll - "

"Rogue," the Professor interjected firmly, "we will check then. That is all." Rogue looked to Scott, who gave her a sympathetic shrug, but no further support.

Rogue cried, cried, and cried some more, but finally, as dawn approached, she quit crying and began to make a plan. Logan's last call was from Saskatoon; he was headed east and he'd said something about a fight in Regina. That was enough to go on, at least enough to start with. She thought about hitching her way north and west, then decided better of it. She could take a car, one of the older ones, one that might not be missed for a day or so at least, to give her a good head start. She left a note for Kitty and Jubes, telling them not to alert the Professor to her absence, and raided Logan's room for cash - he'd made his way to Jean's room tonight. He had plenty of money, but it was all in American bills, no Canadian, which was yet another oddity.

After hauling ass over a good part of the continent, Rogue stopped in Minneapolis to ditch the car, which was probably already noted missing or would be soon. She used her money to buy a train ticket to Regina, and actually enjoyed the ride a little, unlike her last train trip. Landing in Regina after just three days since leaving Westchester, she began poking around, asking questions, trying to draw on what little of Logan she had left in her head to help her.

Finally, on the seventh day, she found someone who'd seen him, a crusty old bartender named Jack. He said 'Wolverine' had won the fights, then had gotten into a skirmish in the parking lot with some 'overgrown hairball.' Rogue knew he probably meant Sabretooth, and tried to calm her panic. The fight had ended in a draw - each man giving the other a wide birth after nearly an hour of fighting to a standstill. Jack said that the Wolverine's truck pulled out of the lot first, and that the hairball's SUV followed. That was the last he'd seen of him.

She followed Logan's path, heading down the road Jack had pointed out to her. She was on foot, so it was slow going, but eventually she did come to a clue. About fifty kilometers down the road, there was a sizeable dent in the guardrail, the kind made by someone being forced into it, and a lot of disturbance in the underbrush on the other side of the rail. Her gut told her that Logan had been here. He'd been heading east, back to her and Westchester, when he was forced off the road by Sabretooth. Maybe the bastard had gotten more help, maybe not; either way, it happened here, Rogue was sure of it.

She followed the path through the forest - broken branches, crushed leaves, turned-over rocks all led her deeper in. As she came to a rise, she saw it - a small hump in the ground. Unremarkable, really, and a perfectly harmonious fit with the surrounding landscape. Except that this hump had a small metal door.

Rogue's heart pounded in her chest. Up until this moment, part of her had believed Scott and the Professor - it was only her own disappointment that was at work here, nothing sinister. But the majority of her wanted to be sure, and now she was. Something had happened to Logan, something bad. Not even the knowledge that she'd been right comforted her now.

Behind that steel door, deep beneath the small rise the structure made in the surface, Logan was entertaining his own not-Marie, who was invariably more pleasant than the not-Logan Marie had encountered. While the not-Logan was real, not-Marie was a product of Logan's own imagination, something he used to comfort him through the 'enhancements' or the brainwashing or just to get him through the maddening sensory depravation of the isolation cell he spent much of his time in. When he summoned her, he tried to visualize her as he'd seen her last, standing in the hall at Xavier's.

"So what do you want to talk about this time? Maybe what we'll do when you get back again? You like that one." Not-Marie was always the one who began their imaginary conversations. She was very accommodating that way.

"Yeah. I liked the last idea we came up with, but I think I got a better one. Hockey game." He had no idea if he actually spoke the words aloud anymore or not. It didn't really matter. There wasn't anyone to hear him except possibly the guards outside the cell, who wouldn't think he was any more or less insane for conversing with himself.

"Then we'll pick a place and stay over. It'll be worth it, trust me." He winced a little as his body's slow-to-heal wounds protested all this talking and breathing.

"You OK?" Not-Marie was also unfailingly solicitous, worried for him, but not overly so - not enough to upset Logan. She always believed his assurances that he was fine, without question.

"Fine, fine. So, I was sayin' - we'll get tickets to the game and pick a spot near the Air Canada Centre to stay. Somethin' nice. I'll show ya around. They got the hockey hall of fame there, you know."

"I'd like that." Usually, Logan waited until the conversation was well underway before imagining not- Marie into coming over and curling up in his lap, but she did so now. Logan distantly wondered if that was a good or bad sign. "Do they have the Stanley Cup there?"

"Uh-huh," Logan answered with more than a little pain in his voice as he moved his arms to cradle not- Marie. "Except when the championship games are goin'. Should be there for us."

"Of course not, sugar." 'Sugar' also usually came much later in the conversation. Something was odd about her tonight. "You know, though, we'd have to share a room. You wouldn't mind that, would you?"

"Me too. I really love you, Logan." Even though somewhere he knew his own mind made the words come, they never failed to touch his heart. And he knew she *had* said them for real, before, just that once.

"I love you too, kid." He laid his head against hers, letting his eyes blink open and shut a little. He wasn't usually out this quickly; he usually managed at least an hour of talking with not-Marie. But tonight for some reason, he felt tired, spent. He let himself rest.

"Still think I'm nuts?" Rogue queried as Scott peered through the binoculars at the metal door she'd discovered. She'd called him, just him, and spun some story about being in trouble and needing his help but not wanting to involve the Professor or the other X-Men, what with all they needed to do for the conference. He came to get her, just like she hoped he would, and when he got over his initial indignance at her ruse, he agreed to take a look at what she'd really brought him here for.

Scott huffed and dropped the binoculars from his visor. "He's back at the mansion, back in Westchester, Rogue, and this is probably just some nutcake survivalist's summer home. I'm telling you that - "

"OK, OK, fine. Fine." She was at the end of her rope. If Scott didn't believe her, wouldn't help her now, he never was going to. "You know what? I'm going to go knock on the door. If it's just a nice little harmless not-at-all-secret underground bunker, I'm sure they'll invite me in for tea." She rose from their concealed hiding spot and took one stride directly toward the door before Scott could grab her.

Scott cursed under his breath and sprinted for her. Rogue must've heard him coming - she broke into a run herself without pausing to look back. She had a head start, and Scott barely tackled her before she reached the door. She squirmed against him, slapping and kicking at him and yelling to be let up. Before either of them could do much more of anything, though, the door opened.

"Freeze!" A large, ski-masked man wearing camouflage gear stood above them. He was pointing what looked like a large caliber pistol right at Scott's head. "Get up slowly."

Both Scott and Rogue sobered, stilled, then did as instructed. Rogue, however, had a certain look in her eye, one Scott didn't much like. Just as the ski-masked man seemed ready to say something more, Rogue lunged for him, grabbing the pistol and pointing it past her torso as it fired, while simultaneously shoving her fingers into his mouth through the hole in the mask. He bit down hard, breaking most of her fingers, but her skin had begun its work; soon, she had all the man's own knowledge of the bunker and what was going on there. Most importantly, she could find Logan.

She nodded, a little woozy from the transfer. "He's a mutant, this guy. Super-accurate vision. They've got Logan. Other mutants too. Brotherhood. Trying to - to improve their mutations, make a super-race to fight the humans."

"What's going on?" Jean noticed, barely, that there was some kind of commotion afoot in the mansion. When she poked her head out of her room to see Storm hustling past, she knew it was a mission. But why hadn't the Professor called her?

"Hmm," Jean mused. It *was* Storm and Hank's turn to go out on pickups, so maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn't a full-blown mission. But then why all the hurry?

Logan heaved a sigh, and as Jean passed his side of the bed to retrieve her clothing from the floor, he grabbed her about the waist and pulled her to the mattress with him. "C'mon, darlin', I didn't mean to yell. I'm sorry. Come back to bed. I'll make it worth your while." He began kissing her neck, something he knew she especially liked.

"I think you should come back to bed," he mumbled between neck-kisses. Giving one last huff in protest before she complied, Jean finally let Logan pull her back down on the bed.

Meanwhile, Marie searched frantically for Logan amidst what was now total chaos. She'd managed to sneak in, pull an alarm, and set off the sprinkler system. Scott's optic blasts could be heard behind her, but her only concern now was Logan. She used the guard's knowledge of where the feral, difficult mutant 'brother' was kept to head straight for him. After what seemed like hours, but was probably under a minute, she arrived at his cell, deep within the depths of the bunker. Whoever had been guarding him had apparently abandoned their post to fight in the skirmish above; there were surprisingly few guards in the entire bunker and Marie felt confident that Scott could handle them all.

"Logan!" She pounded on the door. "Logan, are you in there?" They could have taken him somewhere else when the fight began, she thought, panicky as her fingers punched the numbers stolen from the guard's mind. "Logan!" The light above the keypad flashed green and Marie yanked the door open. "Logan!"

She wasn't prepared for what she saw - a crouching, filthy Logan squinting his eyes up at the sudden influx of light and noise. "Marie?" he said unsteadily.

"What're you doin' out there? How'd you get outta my lap?" He wasn't making sense, and that worried Marie to no end, but she knew the priority was escape.

"Come with me, OK, Logan? We've got to get out of here." He wavered, but stood up, and she could now see that he wasn't covered in dirt - it was blood. She swallowed hard, going into the cell to take his hand in her gloved one and lead him out. "Let's go. We've got to get out of here," she repeated, gently tugging him along with her.

"Whoa, you really liked that hockey idea, huh?" he slurred. That still was non-sensical to Marie. She gave up further efforts at conversation in favor of a rush through the compound, finding a victorious Scott handcuffing some of the unconscious guards.

"There you are! Rogue, you can't just run off like that, you - " Scott cut himself off when he recognized the large, hairy thing she was dragging as Logan. "Shit."

"We've got to warn Jean." Scott paused in his actions, focusing on contacting the Professor. In the mean time, Marie continued tugging Logan toward the door. <<Professor, it's Scott. The Logan you have isn't - >>

<<I see. I could not read him in my last attempt, just after you contacted us for backup. I suspected something was wrong, and I have kept Jean unaware, so that this 'Logan' was not alerted to any disturbance.>>

<<The plane is touching down as we speak.>> Scott really wished that the Professor would let him finish a thought sentence sometimes. <<Put Rogue and Logan and the other two mutants you found on the plane and have Storm stay with you to retrieve any records and documentation from this facility. I gather that it was the Brotherhood?>>

On the plane, Hank stabilized the other two mutants rescued with Logan, then began the quick flight back to Westchester. Marie sat beside Logan, trying to break through his haze. Hank had given him a quick once-over and had concluded that he was under the influence of some very strong drugs, possibly hallucinogenic ones, and that they should clear his system eventually if his mutation was still working well. Marie prayed that it was; Logan kept talking to her about some very strange things.

"And what I said about the thing? You know what I meant was if you wanna, right? 'Cause it's up to you there. I mean, I dunno anythin' about girl stuff. Not a thing."

"Marie," Logan whined, "Come on, I'm ti-i-i-red." Well, Marie reasoned, at least this Logan wasn't shrinking away in terror at her skin. Uncharacteristically whiny she could deal with - oddly terrified of her, no.

"There." He seemed satisfied now. He shifted her a little to wrap both arms tightly around her and she felt his cheek flop onto the top of her head. "Whew. Long day," he whispered as he drifted off.

"Are you decent, chere?" It was Remy. Logan snored a little; he'd landed at the foot of his bed on his stomach. She was somewhere near the headboard, with one leg resting on the night stand. They were both stark naked. Definitely not presentable for company.

"Oui." Jean huffed at Remy's non-explanatory answer and came off the bed, throwing Logan's long- since discarded flannel shirt over her bare body. She went to the door and opened it just a crack, peeking only her head out.

"Ah, tres bien to see you well, ma cherie." Jean lifted an eyebrow at him. She was in no mood for Gambit's hollow flattery; she'd never found it amusing, and it was especially grating now, after having just been with a raw, unpolished, honest man like Logan. Say what you will about the Wolverine, Jean thought, at least he doesn't get by on artifice and pretense. "Come out here in de hall for a moment, non?"

"I'm not coming out. We're busy." She took a brief backward glance in the direction of the bed. Logan was still unmoving, save for the rise and fall of his hairy back with each slumbering breath. Jean was surprised, but glad, that the noise hadn't woken him, what with his sensitive hearing and all. "What do you want? Can't it wait?"

"Chere, Remy don' like bein' de one to break it to you, but dat ain't de Wolverine in dere wit' you. Remy t'ink it be Mystique. It be some kinda Brotherhood shape shifter, dat's fo' sure." He spoke in hushed tones, gently but persistently dragging Jean with him as he backed away from the bedroom door and let his teammates advance.

"Mystique? What? I'd - I'd have known. She can't shield her thoughts. Those - those thoughts are - " She'd been about to say that any thoughts she'd sensed had definitely been Logan's, except that wasn't quite true. She hadn't sensed any thoughts, none at all, not even the everyday ones she'd expect to brush against her mind inadvertently. Why hadn't she noticed that before?

Bobby kicked down the door, and Jean heard a scuffle, then the sound of a very heavy body hitting the wall. After just a few more seconds, an ice-bound blue form with bright red hair and disturbingly Logan-like hazel eyes was dragged from the room by the boys.

"Oh God," she whispered. "I'm going to be sick." Remy loosened his hold on her just in time for her to sprint to the bathroom of 'Logan's' room before throwing up.

"Please," Mystique purred. "You seemed to be enjoying yourself before. And you yourself were really quite good. Nothing wrong with a little walk on the wild side, doctor." Mystique's words were followed by the sound of more retching.

Logan stirred. He knew something was off before he was fully awake. He didn't move, not right away, and took his surroundings in. Marie-smell. Marie's warm, soft body pressed up against his. Check. He remembered falling asleep with imaginary Marie and he was probably far enough gone that he'd started filling in her scent and feel with his mind. That accounted for that. Next problem - everything around him was soft and comfy. Well, that was a little odd, given that he knew he was actually in a hard, cold, black void of a jail cell, but again, it was probably his mind playing tricks on him, and he was happy to go along with this one.

The really weird thing was that there were little noises and faint smells of all kinds. Logan understood why his brain would provide Marie, and a few odds and ends for his own personal comfort, but he couldn't understand why it would filter in annoying sounds and smells. He was in a sensory deprivation cell, so those things couldn't be real, but why would his mind want to provide him those things?

He reluctantly opened his eyes. He'd expected blackness, but instead got soft light, muted by pastel pink blinds. In fact, the whole room was pink - pink walls, pink curtains, pink comforter. He didn't know this room. Wait. Yes, he did. It was the room Marie had described to him, hers, the one she'd moved into after graduation. His brain really was doing an exceptional job today.

"Mmmm.." Imaginary-Marie shifted in his arms. Logan smiled before recalling that imaginary-Marie never woke up with him before. She'd only soothed him to sleep, disappearing with every morning. Something was definitely off. "Logan?" Her sleepy voice reached him before she gathered the energy to lift her head up for a look at him. "You OK? How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he answered carefully. Imaginary-Marie wake up calls were much more pleasant than those of the electric-prod kind usually favored by the guards, so he was willing to play along a little. "How're you?"

"OK. Sleepy." She let her head drop back onto his chest and her eyes fell shut again. Logan thought for a moment she was falling asleep again, but then she said, "How's your brain feel?"

"You know, your mind. Are things feeling a little clearer? Thinking easier? Hank said you should be OK in a day or two and with all that sleep, I was hoping - "

"Marie?!" He suddenly, frantically gripped her shoulders and pushed her up off of him so he could see her face. Imaginary-Marie never mentioned Hank. Never. Logan didn't like the way real-Marie had spoken of the blue doctor with such plain warmth and affection during their phone calls. He was jealous, and so he'd left Hank entirely out of imaginary-Marie's repertoire. Either he'd lost it completely and could no longer even control his own make-believe lovers, or this was *not* imaginary- Marie. "Is that really you?"

"Yeah. I'm, ah, you were asking for me to fall asleep in your lap and we kind of wound up sharing my bed. Sorry." She moved to part from him, only to be gathered into a tight bear hug. "Uh, or if that's OK by you, I could - "

"You're out," she confirmed. "You're safe. They - they sent Mystique here looking like you so it was a little confusing for a while, but we found you and you're back at the mansion now."

"Thank God," he exhaled in a rush. "I didn't think I'd ever - " He abruptly stopped speaking, causing Marie to squirm out of his tight hold to look up at him a bit. "You came and got me didn't ya? You and Scooter?" She nodded, tears forming in her eyes. "I kinda remember now. I was - how long was I there?"

"No, just for about a week. That's how I knew something was wrong. She came back as you and started, um, acting strange." Logan's nose crinkled and his eyes locked on hers, silently asking for more explanation. "She kind of slept with Jean." Logan's eyebrows made a run for his hairline at that and his eyes widened in shock. "And she kept saying she was afraid to touch me. It - it just didn't seem like you, especially not after what we've talked about and - "

"She's already in jail. The Professor turned her over to the police. It looks like she was trying to infiltrate the conference, this mutant education thing we're having here, to recruit young kids for the Brotherhood." Logan just stared at her, mouth open. "Kinda sneaky, but we figured it all out. The you-hating-me part was a big clue. Well, at least it was to me." Now that the immediate crises were over, Marie had a little time to be pissed that no one had believed her.

"I know," Marie answered, but the tremor in her voice didn't mirror her confident tone. "It was just kind of weird, though, watching someone who looked and moved and sounded exactly like you do those things. I mean, the image of you grabbing Jean's butt and - you know what? I'll just shut up now." She'd seen his growing distress. She didn't want to make things worse. He'd been through the most horrible part of it all, not her. "So, you're feeling better?"

Her effort to change the subject was ignored. "You listen to me, Marie. I'm not gonna go sleep with Jeannie or grab her ass or anythin'. I'm not afraid to touch you." He climbed back in bed with her to illustrate the point. "You're all that kept me goin' in there."

"Yeah. I usedta talk to you at night, when they put me back in the cell. I usedta carry on whole talks on all kindsa things, just pretendin' you were there with me. Even in the worst shit hole imaginable, even when I'm pain like you wouldn't believe, even then I wanted you, nobody else. You were what I needed, what I craved. I meant what I said before."

"I am, darlin', and I ain't goin' nowhere." He drew her back into his embrace and kissed her head. He had real Marie now, and she had him back. Nothing else really mattered to either of them at the moment. Other challenges, other trials would come for them soon enough, Logan thought, but for now, they were just where they belonged - together.