Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

Comments: This is a weird one. Don't ask me where it came from-no brbf-flung plot bunnies can be blamed for a change. And don't ask me why I decided to post it-I'm not overly happy with how it turned out. All I know is that I sat down to do Rachel's April Fool's challenge at 7:00 p.m., and I ended up with this at 4:00 a.m. I'm going to give the challenge another shot, but God only knows what'll come out this time.

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The first clue he had that something was wrong was the look on the girl's face. The guy, Magneto, said he could help Logan. Help him find his past. When he said that word-"help"-the girl's face changed, and not in a good way. It was just a split-second, just a look, but it told Logan something was wrong.

The next clue was when Magneto asked the girl to give a testimonial, to tell Logan how much he'd helped her with her mutation or some shit. She said the words the Magneto probably told or expected her to, but her face was all wrong. Logan was beginning to think he'd had just about enough bad omens. Time to get up from this 'friendly' little discussion and tell this guy to fuck off.

"Fuck that shit. I'm outta here." He got up and turned to go, and caught sight of the girl's face in passing. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth made a little 'o'-the expression Logan knew preceded a scream or a shout of warning. It was too late, though, for him to react. The needle sent flying across the table by Magneto was already embedded in his neck, and he was losing consciousness before the metal plunger had even finished pushing the rest of the fluid into his veins.

When he woke up next, he was dimly aware that he was seated in a car, and that the car was moving. Beyond that, he couldn't make out anything except that his head hurt and that he couldn't move his body at all, except maybe to open his eyes a little. At length, he heard a female voice talking to him.

"..awake? Look, I know you might not be able to hear me, but don't worry, you're going to be fine.Magneto said that it would clear your system in a few daysnever thought I'd do it, but I knew I had to take a chance as soon as he said we were going without Sabretooth and Mystique.put him out, but the crowd was getting ugly once they knew we were mutants..afraid to leave you there..get away and whatever they did to Magneto, he definitely deserved.had to take your truck, I hope you don't mindhear me? Because you're going to be OK.."

"Hey. How are you?" It was the girl, the girl that Magneto'd had with him. Logan thought that it was her, at least. His mind was working just well enough to tell him it might not be working very well at all. She was the last person he'd seen before blacking out. It could be just some trick of his drugged brain. It could actually be someone else entirely.

"Still can't talk, huh? Well, don't worry. I think-Magneto said that you'd heal eventually. I guess it's just going to take a while." She seemed tense, very tense, but he could also tell she was trying to hide that, trying to-to ,what? Reassure him?

"We, um, I think we're safe from him for now. He has some-I don't know-friends or employees or something that might come after us, though. They're called Sabretooth and Mystique, and believe me, we definitely don't want them to find us. I don't know if-I guess I just don't really know what might be going on with them. So I decided to just keep moving. I hope-I hope that's OK with you." If he could've, Logan would've laughed at that. He was completely unable to move and couldn't even stay conscious for very long. If it wasn't OK, he wasn't in a position to do a damn thing about it.

And this girl-she had to be up to something. She had no reason to drag him out of that bar. Even if she needed transportation, needed his truck, she could've ditched him anywhere along the road. Or just fished his keys out of his jean pockets. And she had to be more powerful than she looked, if she's not lying about what happened, if she really did take Magneto out and fend off a bar full of angry mutant-haters. Maybe she's a merc, Logan thought. Maybe she was just getting him back in shape to sell to the highest bidder among his old enemies. Maybe-maybe she was working for the government. Those bastards-they'd pull something like this, Logan thought. The girl definitely has to be up to something, the only question was what. He tried to fix that in his mind as he fell back into blackness.

"Um, oh-oh. Oh, OK. I-ah, I guess you still can't move or talk, then. It's OK. Just, um, stay there. I think you have some clothes in the camper. I'll be right back." The girl's voice, and he could feel her moving his body around a little too. Logan didn't have any idea what the hell she was talking about, but some part of his brain registered that she was leaving the room, and now would be a good time to try to escape. Before she had a chance to pull whatever the hell she was up to.

He tried to get his limbs to move and succeeded a little-one arm twitched. He could move his head a little, and he could see better-his eyes were focusing so that he could identify objects as opposed to simply light, dark, and vague shapes. And he could smell..what was that smell? It was strong and pungent, and he knew he knew it.

"OK. Here we go. I think we'll just-let's try to get you in the bathtub, OK? Let's get you cleaned up a little." What the hell was she worried about cleaning him up for? Getting him presentable for sale, maybe? Maybe-

"It's OK. It's fine. I, um, I'm going to run the bathwater first, OK? I'll be right back." Logan could feel a warmth underneath his hips, and that made him connect with what his nose had been trying to tell him earlier. It also made a little sense of why she was suddenly concerned with his cleanliness. He'd soiled the bed he was laying in. God, he must've been out, he thought.

"Ready?" The girl, stripped down to long underwear. He guessed she wouldn't have wanted to get her outer clothes dirty. She leaned over him, struggling to pull him to a sitting position. He was about to tell her to get away, that he could get to the damn bathroom himself, but nothing came out. His mouth didn't even move. She bent him at the waist, squatted down beside the bed, and with no little effort, hoisted him over her shoulder in a fireman's carry.

Logan was sure she'd drop him before they got to the bathroom. He could feel her legs shaking, straining under his weight. She let out little grunts of effort with each step, and her balance swayed left and right, shifting to try to accommodate his weight. But they did make it to the bathroom, and she sat him down roughly on the toilet, propping him up in a sitting position. "Whew. There. Now, let's get these clothes off you."

She began stripping him, and it took a while. His limbs were heavy and he couldn't move to help her even if he wanted to. She talked to him a little while she did it, telling him her name-Marie - that she was from Mississippi, and that he shouldn't touch her skin. Logan thought that last part was odd, but then recalled that she was a mutant too. Maybe that had something to do with her mutancy. Finally, he was naked, and the bathtub was full.

"OK. I'll-I'll try not to bump you against the faucet or anything but this could be a little tricky." She put both his arms around her shoulders, and half-lifted, half-dragged him to the tub. Plopping him in rear-end first, she ignored the big splash of water that flooded the bathroom floor and swung his legs in too. Making sure he was in a stable sitting position, she reached for a washcloth and soap.

"I know, um, this might be a little embarrassing for you, but don't worry. I'm-I'm sure you'll be better in a little while." He suddenly wanted to yell at her or shove her away. It was embarrassing-to have to have some young girl help him bathe, to have her clean up his mess in the bed-and it made him mad. He didn't like for anyone to see him weak, and this was as weak as he'd been since he'd been in the hands of the government.

That reminded him-she was up to something, and he had to remember that. He had to find out what it was, and make sure she didn't get away with it. He might be helpless now, but he *was* healing. She hadn't lied about that. It was very slow going, very slow, but there was some improvement.

"Can you um, oh, I'll just reach around to get your back." She was trying to be careful with him, cushioning his head against the tile wall with her wet, gloved hands when she moved him around a little. He wondered why. She certainly knew what his mutation was, and whatever damage she did would be repaired before she got him to whoever wanted him this time. Even with the slowed healing factor, it'd be repaired.

"I, uh, I'm just going to get your, um, private spots. Sorry." He felt gentle hands cleaning him, lifting his hips and thoroughly washing him. When she was done with that particular area, she looked at him with a half-smile, half-frown, and said 'sorry' again. She moved on to his legs, then his feet, washing even between his toes. Logan wondered why she was being so thorough. Hell, he thought, I don't wash between my toes.

"The water's pretty dirty. I'm-I'm going to let it out then run some fresh water and wash your hair, OK?" She did as she said she would, moving his legs and feet clear of the fresh running water while she fiddled with the temperature control. "Is that too hot?" He was beginning to get pissed off at how she always asked if things were OK or if the water was too hot when she knew damn well he couldn't answer. And the water was too damn hot.

"OK. Is this better?" His face-he must've had some expression on his face. He could move his face muscles somewhat if she was reacting to a change in expression. That kind of fine muscle group movement was a good sign. "There. Now let's see-there's got to be a cup or something around here somewhere."

She washed his hair with soap, and shielded his eyes from the water she poured over him with the cup to wet his hair and rinse it. He had to admit, it did feel nice when she washed his hair. Someone's hands moving through his wet hair, massaging his scalp-it felt really good. Especially since he'd had a splitting headache for every waking moment of the past day or so.

"There. Done. You're clean." She smiled at him warmly. He wondered again what kind of trick she was playing and what she was up to. Whatever it was, he must be worth a lot of money for her to go to all this trouble with him, to be this careful with him. Whoever wants him must want him in good shape. Fuck.

The next time he came to, they were back in the truck. She was singing with the radio-some country song that he couldn't quite recognize. Must be some of that new country shit, he thought, Dixie Chicks, probably. The girl had a God-awful voice, but she sang with gusto. He tried to move again, and succeeded in shifting his arm pretty well.

"Oh! Hey, you're awake. And you're moving a little-that's good. That's really good." He wasn't moving too much, though, because she'd restrained him, secured him in the seat somehow. Bitch, he thought, she is definitely up to something. He willed his arm to move his hand to whatever was holding him in place. Fuck her, he thought, I'm not going one more mile strapped down to this seat.

"Oh, don't-um, you might want to keep your seat belt on." Seat belt? Logan thought she was lying about it being a seat belt for a moment, but the feel of it under his fingers was familiar, and it matched her explanation. He relaxed a little. It still didn't mean she wasn't up to something. "Not that I'm a bad driver or anything. Just in case, you know?"

"Grrr." Logan quit trying to form words and settled for growling. Growling might put a little fear in to her, at least. It would definitely put more fear into her than trying to talk and failing miserably.

"Well, I'm just going to-I'm just going to guess at what you might want to know. I'm Marie. I don't know if you really remember anything or how much, but I was with this guy, Magneto, when we met up with you in a bar outside Los Alamos. He, um, he was a very bad person, and he drugged you. He was pretty determined to recruit you one way or another. You'll be OK, though. Even Magneto-he said that your power, your healing factor would clear out the drug in a few days. I, um, grabbed Magneto and knocked him out while he was busy with you. We had to leave because the crowd got a little ugly. Geez, why Magneto wanted to meet in a redneck desert bar to talk about joining up with the Brotherhood of Mutants is beyond me.."

"Anyway, I, uh, took your keys and found your truck, and we've been driving north since then. Magneto has some people that work for him that might be looking for us, and he might be looking for us too, if he got out of that bar in one piece. I, um, found some money in your truck, back there in the camper, and I've been using it to pay for food and gas and motels. I kept receipts for everything, so you'd know what I spent. Sorry about that, but I wasn't sure what else to do."

He'd had about two thousand dollars hidden in the camper. He wondered if she'd found it all. "I thought we could go to Canada. I, ah, noticed in your wallet, on your license, that you're from there and I was trying to get to Alaska before Magneto nabbed me, so I thought that might be a good idea."

"Another thing I need to tell you is about my skin. It's my mutant thing. My skin-it hurts people who touch it very badly. I-I put a few people in a coma, and I'm pretty sure I just about killed Magneto back there. See-that's why he wanted me-my power works so I absorb other people's memories along with their life and energy, and, with mutants, I get whatever their power is too. It's kind of a long story, but just be really careful around my bare skin, OK?" Logan thought about that for a few moments. He was right-she was more powerful than she looked. And she was dangerous. She could suck the life right out of him with a touch. But she wasn't explaining it like Logan thought she should have-explaining it to make him know he couldn't hurt her without getting hurt himself, or as a threat of some kind. She seemed to be genuinely concerned that he might accidentally touch her or something.

"What else? Oh, yeah, we're-we're coming up on Idaho in a little while, and I thought we could stop there before crossing the border. I've been trying to pick cheap motels in little towns. You know, to try to be inconspicuous and to try to save money too. Hey-speaking of money, I bought some food. Are you hungry? Or thirsty? I could pull over and help you eat something." The thought of having to be helped with basic functions like eating and drinking pissed him off again, but he was hungry. He settled for trying to make his face into an expression that said all that, and waited to see what she did.

"Fffnnnn.." He could make a few sounds now, could at least try to communicate with her. And she talked a lot, whether he tried to talk back or not. She had basically told him her whole life story - how she'd been kidnapped by Magneto, why she'd run away from home, why Alaska-and hearing that story changed his initial assessment of her.

He began to think that either she was a much better, more professional, and elite merc than he'd ever met up with before-he knew that some of the undercover ops were trained to completely emulate a particular cover personality, but he'd never seen someone do it so seamlessly-or that maybe she wasn't really up to something at all. Listening to her lilting voice describe Sunday picnics and sneaking into hotel pools on a dare, he began to seriously consider the possibility that she was just some nice, mixed-up kid. Almost suicidally nice, given what she was risking in helping a total stranger who'd just as soon slit her throat as thank her for it, but still.

"Fine? Good, then. We'll stop." She pulled off the road, and into the motel parking lot. Logan wondered if he'd be able to get out of the car. His movement was still very limited-clumsy, irregular motions with arms and legs. He wasn't sure he could pull off something that required as much coordination as walking, but the idea of her having to try to carry him made him angry. "Hey, Logan? I've got-I've been keeping the money. This is what we have left."

"Oh, OK." She handed over the entire pile of bills, placing it in his open hands and helping to close his fingers around it. From the looks of it, she'd found most of the two thousand he kept stashed in the camper. "Can I-I'll need about thirty dollars for the room. The sign said $29.95. Is that OK?"

He grunted and opened his fingers with some effort. She took a twenty and a ten and gave him a brief smile before exiting the truck in search of the motel office. At least he had his money back under control. That made him feel a little better. She wasn't going to go spending his money without him knowing about it any more.

He looked down at the pile in his hands. It was his life savings, right there. American and Canadian bills, and-pieces of paper? What the hell? Logan, after several attempts, moved the bills in his hand around enough to get a good look at the pieces of paper. She hadn't been kidding, he thought, she had kept receipts. The two he could see looked like they'd been for gas for the truck. Receipts. He'd never have believed a story like this in a million years-big, bad professional ass-kicker Wolverine nabbed by a little girl who saved his life for no reason then kept receipts to account for the money she spent doing it. Un-fucking-believable.

"Sorry. Sorry. You were having a nightmare." He had them often-mostly about the lab, sometimes about things he could remember more clearly, more completely - the time he'd almost frozen to death up in the Yukon, the time he'd fallen through a frozen lake and almost drowned, when he'd first woken up naked in the snow all those years ago. Come to think of it, he really didn't like the cold. It made him wonder why the fuck he lived in Canada then. "It's OK. We're OK. It was just a nightmare."

He did-he wanted to get to his cabin. Hole up there for the winter, lay low. Get better, let this Magneto fucker become occupied elsewhere. It would give him plenty of time to think about how to pay that bastard back, anyway. He wondered if she'd go that far out into the country, though. Well, he could always wait until he was better and drop her off wherever, then go up himself. She said she was headed to Alaska. She might be able to hitch some rides there, and she sure as hell didn't have to worry about her safety, not with her powers. However, there was no way he could get all that out.

"It's coming in really handy." She smiled at him still, even though he never smiled back. That bothered him, and it made him think maybe it was time to make her put her cards on the table.

"No, I mean it. I don't really-I don't really expect anything from you. I just-it seemed like a good idea to stick with you until you were better. It made sense for both of us to stay moving. I-I'm not looking for you to repay me or anything for that."

"Good. 'Cause. I'm. Not." He thought that that'd get a response out of her. He was sure she wanted something, and even if she was just some nice kid that got mixed up in all this, she'd probably expect him to take care of her or something. She should get pissed when he said that, and it'd help him flush out exactly what it was that she wanted.

"I just told you why. I'm just-it was the right thing to do." Logan laughed aloud at that, and that did finally piss her off. "What's so funny about that? Aren't people supposed to try to help other people?" More laughter. "What, you don't believe that? That most people just try to do the right thing?"

"Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't look a nice person in the face." She said that with some heat, then realized it might not have made any sense. "You know what I mean, look a gift horse in the face. If I wasn't nice, you'd probably be dead or something right now." She gripped the wheel resolutely, and stared straight ahead at the road.

"Fine. I don't-just don't talk to me anymore, all right? I don't like you very much right now." He finally did realize that she was angry then, very angry. He'd miscalculated. As crazy as it seemed, she really did help him just to be nice. Because she was a nice person. And he didn't quite know what to make of that. He wasn't about to apologize to her-the Wolverine made no apologies-but he found himself trying to think of a way to reopen the conversation, to tell her somehow that he just hadn't believed anyone would do what she did for those reasons. Unable to come up with anything, he lapsed into silence.

"Sure." He couldn't move to get it, though. "In. My. Pocket." She reached into his front jean pocket, where she'd put the money this morning. She'd asked each time they needed to get something, and she still kept bringing back receipts.

"Thanks." His sense of smell was coming back, and he could at least rely on it when someone was up close, like Marie had just been. He could smell that she was still angry, and something else-sad, maybe, definitely unhappiness of some kind. "I'll be right back."

He felt a little bad about that. He wondered why that was, and he guessed that it was because he did owe her. She did help him. And despite what he said to her before, when someone did happen to be square with him, he had enough of a sense of honor left to at least try not to screw them over in return. He'd apparently screwed her over pretty good without even really meaning to, and she was probably the one and only person who'd ever gone out of her way to be good to him in his whole life.

It hit him then just how much he really *was* dependent on her help, on her being good to him. She fed him, dressed him, took him to the bathroom. Good God, he hated that, but he knew he needed her help. If she left him, he'd heal, yeah, but he'd be unable to move until he did, and he'd wind up laying in heap, probably soaking in his own waste and starving, at the mercy of whoever happened to come across him. That idea appealed to him even less than being helped.

"Yeah." She drove the few dozen feet needed to park right in front of their door. He was able to swing his legs out after she opened the car door. That was progress. But when he tried to put his feet on the ground, he couldn't manage keeping his balance and putting weight on his still-very-uncooperative legs. He swayed into Marie, who let out an 'oomph' when he grabbed for her waist. She flinched bodily, and he wondered if he somehow had bruised her or hurt her. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just-I think Magneto broke some of my ribs. He got a few good shots in before I got him. It's fine, just-just let me put your arm here." She relocated it to rest around her shoulders. "Lean on me. Let's go." She gritted her teeth and began taking slow steps toward the door.

Logan watched her intently. He remembered her groaning when she had to lift him, but he had chalked it up to the effort she needed to make to move his bulk. If she had broken ribs on top of that, she had to be in a lot of pain whenever she moved him, and even now, when he could try to help her a little, it still had to hurt her like hell.

"A little. We're almost there." Just a three or four more steps to the door. Logan turned his head, watching her determined expression as she doggedly plodded forward. "Whew. There." She opened their door with the key, then dragged him the few additional steps to the bed, carefully laying him down on it. "You OK?"

He wasn't OK. He felt pretty damn shitty, he thought. He felt like an ungrateful ass and a heel for not even ever asking if she was OK, for laughing at her for trying to help him, for not knowing what to do about all that, and maybe most of all for the fact that she was still helping him despite everything. "Yeah. You?"

"Fine. Look-I'm going to get some of our stuff from the truck. I'll be right back. Is there anything in particular you need?" She wasn't even saying that mean or pissy, he thought - even now, she's still being nice.

When she didn't come back right away, his first thought was that she'd ditched him. Taken the truck and camper, and whatever stuff of his was in it. That thought didn't even make him mad. It made him think that the world made sense to him again. That's what she should do, to punish him, to make him pay for what he'd said and how he'd treated her today.

But he hadn't heard the truck start, and he thought his senses were at least that good, at least good enough to have heard that. He began wondering if anything happened to her-maybe somebody grabbed her in the parking lot, or maybe one or both of those little helpers of Magneto's showed up. That worried him. If she was hurt, she might not be able to put up a good enough fight, or maybe they'd just drug her like they drugged him. If that was the case, if she was in trouble, he would be soon enough, too. He sure as hell couldn't put up any kind of fight. And there'd be no nice people hanging around to help either one of them this time.

She did come back a few minutes later, though, and Logan lifted his head off the bed to see her. She was carrying a big duffel bag with some effort, and Logan noticed that she had a red face and bloodshot eyes. She'd been crying, a lot, and she still was a little. Logan found himself irrationally relieved that she'd returned in one piece.

He listened as she undressed behind the closed bathroom door. He heard uneven breathing and a few strangled sobs. If she was upset because of him.well, what he said before was as close to an apology as he was willing to come. And if she wasn't, he had no idea what he could do to help her at all. He heard the water running, and after a few moments, louder crying. She probably thought the running water would mask those noises. She apparently didn't know everything about his mutation.

She was in the shower a long time, and the crying had slowed down by the time she turned the water off, but hadn't stopped. When she came out, Logan lifted his head to see her again, and she looked even worse. "Hey. You. OK?"

"Fine." When she looked over at him, her eyebrows knit together a little. "I forgot your boots. Here, let me take them off." She crossed to the bed, carefully removed his boots, and gently wiggled the covers out from underneath him. She then climbed in the bed with him, and he noticed she was well-covered, wearing both gloves and socks. As she drew the blankets over them both and turned out the bedside light, she let out another shuddering sob.

"OK." Logan could smell her tears, could almost taste them. He felt sad now, too, and he didn't like it. He didn't like feeling what she was feeling, and he didn't like that he cared what she felt. But it was there. It was there, and it was strong enough that he couldn't ignore it.

Logan tried to move, to get up and look around a little. He succeeded in raising his head up off the bed for a few minutes, and a quick survey didn't produce any signs of Marie. However, the duffel bag was still there, so maybe she hadn't left.

Logan lay back down on the bed. He wondered what made her so sad, if it really wasn't just him. She couldn't have had a very easy time with Magneto, he was sure of that. And who knows what the hell else she's been through. She told him plenty of bad things-her family's reaction to her being a mutant, her having to run away, all of her friends from childhood turning on her-but it didn't seem like those would be the kind of things that would make her cry like that.

"Yeah." She's back, he thought, she didn't leave. He was mad at himself that it mattered to him, mad that he was so relieved, but his anger wasn't overwhelming, it wasn't the sharp rage that he'd had before in response to her sometimes.

"Better. Want to go to the bathroom?" She still had to help him out there. He hated that, but he supposed he hated making a mess in his clothes more, and those were the only two choices he had at the moment.

"Yeah." She reached to help him sit up, then took in a big breath, bracing herself for the short trip to the bathroom. Logan tried not to lean on her too much, tried to make himself walk a little, and he did, he was able to move and put weight on his feet at least a little.

"Yeah." She steadied him first, positioning him in front of the toilet. She unfastened his jeans and eased them down his hips a little, moving to stand behind him and give him at least what little semblance of privacy she could. She waited patiently as he tried and failed several times to grasp himself steadily enough to urinate anywhere near the toilet. She always let him try, and she always waited until she heard him grunt in frustration before offering help.

"Yeah, I know. Maybe you should-why don't you lie down for a little while? I can get the things in the car." She supported his weight, and slowly turned him to exit the bathroom. He leaned on her more heavily than he wanted. He knew he must've been hurting her, and he could smell that she was still upset. But she just held him up, walked him toward the bed, did what he needed and didn't complain.

"Thanks." He hadn't been saying that, even though he really was thankful. It wasn't her fault he needed to be helped like this, and, as much as he hated it, he knew she couldn't have liked having to do it too much either, especially now that he'd acted like an ass.

She sighed and frowned. "No, no I don't think I am. Now that I think about it, I think maybe you are. I mean, when I look back at my life..you're right, people don't try to help other people. They don't try to do the right thing. They're just..selfish. And awful. I tried all last night, but I honestly couldn't think of anyone in my life who's acted nice."

"You were being honest. And you're right." She shrugged her shoulders, somehow conveying both regret and resignation with the gesture. "That's why I'm sad. I don't want you to be right, but I think you are." Then Marie smiled-a brilliant, sad smile that made Logan feel worse than anything so far. "I'll get us packed up. You rest for a while."

The conversation on the drive out was minimal. Logan couldn't think of what to say. Marie didn't seem to feel like talking much either. And she didn't sing with the radio, or even turn it on. She was thinking, he could tell, but she didn't seem inclined to share her thoughts with him. Before, he reflected, she just talked and it seemed like whatever she was thinking, she said - hell, she'd even talked to him while he was unconscious. He found himself missing the conversation, missing hearing her talk. He thought about it for almost an hour before coming to the conclusion that maybe he could try to do something to make her talk-in fact, he thought, maybe she'd start talking if he just asked her to. And he had a good idea what he wanted her to talk about.

"I think we've pretty much covered that topic." Her tone said something different than the words themselves. Logan was right, he could tell. She did want to talk about it. She wanted to hash it out, get it straight in her head.

She let a few long, silent minutes pass before complying. "Have you ever just had one of those moments when someone said something to you that made you reassess everything, made you look at something you'd taken for granted for a long time completely differently?"

"Well, that's kind of what happened. When you said what you did, and you laughed at me, I started thinking-maybe he's right. Maybe that's the way it really is, and I'm just being naïve or wishful or stupid or, or overly optimistic. And the more I thought about it, the more evidence that surfaced in my mind to support what you'd said. People are pretty much just selfish and awful. I didn't want to think that about people in general, I wanted to think that most people were good, at least deep down. But maybe the truth is that they're not. I never really, never seriously, considered that before, and what you said just kind of jarred me into reconsidering."

"Maybe. But not a lot. Maybe a few people are good, maybe one in a thousand or one in ten thousand. It's not basic human nature to be that way, at least I don't think so anymore."

"Well, thanks. I mean.thanks." She smiled the sad smile as she thanked him. "But honestly? What good does it do me to be that way if the vast majority of people just, just take advantage of that or something?"

"It hurt. It hurt when you did that. And I know I said I didn't expect anything in return for what I did for you, but I think it hurt because I lied about that. I did expect something in return. I expected you to not make fun of me for being nice to you. I expected you to be.I don't know.civil to me, at least. I expected you not to throw it back in my face and when you did, it hurt."

"That, and, well, I think everything just came down on me right then. I felt like-even when I try to do the right thing, try to help someone, they just get mad about it and mock me for it. What good am I then?"

"No. You get the special, super deluxe Marie treatment. You know, chaufferring you around, doing the grocery shopping for you, booking your travel plans, deep conversation about human nature, the whole nine yards." She was really smiling now, with her eyes, not just her mouth.

"Everything OK in there?" Marie's voice, from behind the bathroom door. Logan had been in the tub for almost an hour. The water was cold, he'd almost drown himself a couple times, and he'd only gotten about half his body washed, but he'd been determined to take a bath without help. Now, as he tried to reach his legs for the third time, he let out a sigh of frustration.

Marie looked up at him then, meeting his eyes. "OK. Do you-do you have the soap?" He lifted the bar of soap that had been clenched in his right hand for the last hour above the water line as she crossed the room to the tub. Gloved hands met his and gently pried his fingers away. "OK. I'll-oh, the water's really cold. Do you want fresh water?"

She smiled and reached for the drain, then the faucet. "Not too hot, I remember." He smiled a little back. "Let me grab the cup." He remembered how she'd done it last time, moving his head for him, shielding his eyes from the soap and water. At least this time, he could move his head to help her. At least this time, he could close his own eyes without effort.

Logan had an urge to ask her to stay with him up there. All of a sudden, he was thinking in terms of the both of them-if *we* make it before a big snow, *we'll* be OK. He'd started doing it without even noticing, and a bolt of anger flashed through him. After a moment, though, he began to think, really think, about it, instead of just reacting to the anger.

She smiled tightly at that as she shut off the faucet. "I guess I'll have to try to avoid them. Close your eyes." She poured the warm water over his head, then began rubbing the soap through his hair. Soon, she'd worked up a good lather and began massaging it through.

"I meant it, Logan. I don't want-I don't expect anything from you. I mean it. Not anything at all. Not anymore." She wasn't being mean or spiteful about it, and, if anything, her tone began to read across as sad.

Wet, gloved hands gently framed his cheeks and turned his face to hers. "Logan, I don't want to..you were right. I guess..it is in my nature to be nice. I'm trying not to take advantage of you. I just want.I just want to do this for you, OK?" Tears began rolling down her face. "I just want to be good to you, to someone. Even if-what we were talking about today-even if it's true, I can'tI'm not good at changing who I am, and if I really am nice, then I'm stuck with it and it means my life is going to go on like before. People will justpeople will just use that, use me. It's always been that way, really. I don't..I'm not good at protecting myself and I don't know how much time I have left because my life..I just want to be good to you now, OK? I just do, and I don't want anything back for it, all right?"

"You've been very. Good to me." She cried a little more at that, and it wasn't the reaction Logan had intended. "Tell me what. Happened to you before." All those things she said about her life-he began to think it wasn't just this, it wasn't just him and the way he'd acted that had triggered all this. She had the definitive look of someone nearing the end of her rope.

"I.." She drew away from the tub. Staying on her knees, she scooted around to put her back to him. She drew in a long, shuddering breath, and lifted off her shirt. Logan could see her back, her bare back, and the three foot-long scars that marked it diagonally from shoulder to hips. "That was Sabretooth, the first time he got a hold of me. That's just one. There..there are more. I tried..when I first met him, I felt sorry for him. Because of Magneto and..well, I just felt sorry for him and that was a mistake. A big mistake."

She pulled her shirt back on, then wiped at her eyes before turning back to him. "It's just that I want my life to mean something. I want to have done good with it. At the end of the day, I don't want the bad things that have happened to change that. I want to have done good while I'm here. I just.."

"Yeah, you did. Just-you've had some bad things happen too, I bet." That was true, more than she knew. He'd had bad things happen to him, and he'd made an awful lot of bad things happen to other people too. "Besides, you can be nice. I've seen it." She was trying to lighten the mood. She wanted to be done talking about it. It was hurting her.

"Marie. Just think. About it. The cabin." That was as far as he could go, as much as he was prepared to ask for. She smiled at him a little and nodded, then returned to washing his hair.

Later that night, as she lay beside him in bed, asleep, Logan set his mind to a task. He'd decided a few things after the bath. One-he wasn't going to hurt her. He'd made a conscious effort not to after she'd cried the first time, but he was going to be sure of it, be certain from here on out. Two-she'd helped him, so he was going to try to help her if he could. If she'd let him. Three-he was going to try to be good to her. This would be the hardest, because he didn't really have a lot of experience doing that. He did have urges, though. Urges to be nice to her, urges to make her feel better, urges to see her smile. Maybe those would help him figure it out.

"Hey there. You awake?" It was the first time he'd woken up before her, and, remembering his decisions the night before, he resolved to let her sleep until she woke. She was still hurting, he knew, both physically and emotionally, and the rest would do her good. He'd waited until she shifted onto her back and opened her eyes.

"You're talking a lot better. How about movement?" In reply, he lifted his arm, still somewhat clumsily, and laid it across her stomach. "Oooh! That's a lot better too." His hand began moving slowly, his thumb gently stroking her stomach. "You're doing a lot better with fine movements." She said it warmly, and he realized he was smiling in return.

"OK." With some reluctance, he removed his hand from her body, and rolled to his side. He gathered himself before trying to sit up, listening to the bed squeak as Marie rose. As he focused on trying to sit up, he wondered if this was really a good idea. If he fell or something, she'd have to pick him up, and that would be harder on her than if he hadn't tried at all. On the other hand, the sooner he could walk, the sooner he wouldn't have to hurt her by leaning on her at all.

"Ready?" She reached out gloved hands to him, smiling encouragement. Resolved, Logan very slowly pulled himself into a sitting position on the bed. He could tell by Marie's expression that she was pleased and surprised that he could do it.

He had one of those urges-an urge to please her again, he supposed, and he began to stand, to raise himself up off the bed. It was difficult, much more difficult than he'd thought it would be because he really did wake up feeling much better. Marie steadied him as he rose with a hand to his waist, and by bracing her hips against his. When he was fully upright, he turned his head to catch sight of her.

What he saw wasn't what he'd expected; it was an expression almost 180 degrees from what she'd looked like just a few seconds ago. There were tears in her eyes and her lips were quivering, and he could feel her body trembling against his. "Marie?"

"Look at you," she whispered. "You're standing up." She met his eyes and the tears spilled over onto her cheeks. Without thinking, he used the arm he'd draped across her shoulders to pull her to him in an embrace. After a stunned second, she hugged herself to him tightly. They stayed that way for a few long moments before Marie broke away.

Two days later, they were coming up on the last town that would have supplies they might need at the cabin. Marie hadn't said she'd stay, hadn't said anything further at all on the subject, but Logan could tell she'd been thinking about it. The way she looked at him sometimes - sizing him up, almost as though she was looking right into him or through him-it made him think she was weighing her options, trying to decide if he could be nice to her, good to her, or if he'd start taking advantage of her. Every time he caught her doing it, he tried to show her what he thought she was looking for.

Last night was another reason he thought she might stay. She'd had a nightmare, a bad one. When she bolted up in bed, she was already crying in earnest. Logan put a hand on her back, and wordlessly drew her down to lie across his chest. At the time, he didn't really even think about it, just acted on the urge to make her feel better in some way. He didn't intend to do any more than hold her, let her fall asleep on top of him. But after she'd settled, after the tears had stopped, he found himself gently rubbing her head, mimicking how she washed his hair. It was one thing he knew felt good, felt comforting.

He only consciously noticed he was doing it when she whispered, "Thanks." There was a world of meaning laid bare in that simple whisper. His touch, his comfort was exactly what she had needed. It was what she wanted from him and he'd given it to her. She might not want to take advantage of him, she might not want to get anything in return, but Logan knew that what he'd done could be addictive. Getting what you need on that basic level, especially when you haven't ever really had those needs met before, creates a pull stronger than any drug, any obsession. It's a taste of water in the desert, the first breath of air coming up from underwater. Logan knew well what that feeling was. He knew it well because he felt it when she smiled, when she laughed, and when she touched him. He hadn't trusted it at first, but now that he knew it was safe-now, he was addicted too.

She pulled up into the parking lot of a large general store. "Hey, you think you're up to a little shopping?" He'd been able to walk fairly well for a day or so, but not for too long.

"Sure." They exchanged smiles. Before she could get out of the car, Logan stayed her with a gentle hand on her arm. "Marie? Are you staying with me?" He wanted to know, and if she was still reluctant, even after everything, he had an idea about how to convince her.

"I want you to. I want you to stay the winter. I-I can use the company. It would-it would be a favor to me." He never asked for things, never asked for help especially. But this was one time it would be worth it. One time it would be safe to ask and worth it.

Marie's expression hung between sadness and hope. Finally, after what seemed to Logan to be an eternity, she answered. "OK. OK. I'll stay. But, Logan? For me, OK? Because I want to, because we both want me to. For that, nothing else."

"Marie?" He'd been soaking in the bath for just a few minutes. They'd barely made it in the door before a snowstorm hit. The wind was raging outside, but the good news was that there was plenty of snow to melt over the fire and use for bath water. Marie'd already had her bath, and Logan was now enjoying his. But-something was missing.

She laughed at that, a real, genuine, joyful laugh. The sound reached Logan's ears, and he drank it in like the sweetest lullaby. One word ran through his head a few quick times-addictive-and then he laughed with her.