Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

Summer In Yellowstone

Title: Summer in Yellowstone

E-mail: xgrrl26@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: I don't own them, except for Jules, Holly, Christopher, and Jane. Sadly, they won't be getting their own movie anytime soon ;)

Archive: Peep Hut, Dolphin Haven, WRFA - anyone else, please ask and I'll say yes ;)

Feedback: Please? With a cherry on top? Good, bad, and ugly welcome..............

Summary: Sequel to Spring in Yellowstone. Our favorite mutants do a lot of thinking and talking; Legacy makes a return visit; and, Scott, Marie, and Holly all deal with their respective traumas in very different ways.

Comments: This one took a loooong time to write, mostly due to interruptions from Real Life, mostly in the form of my new house (free beer and fic for anyone who'd like to come out to Indiana and help me move.......). I don't know if it's being a new homeowner that has me in a contemplative mood or what, but this ended up being very light on the action and heavy on the discussion ;) Some parts of this were inspired by non-house RL experiences - one of those was a conversation I observed while accompanying a close friend on a particularly nerve-wracking doctor's visit. It was her first visit with this doctor, and the doctor took a history, asking my friend if she'd ever been sexually abused as a child. My friend answered in the affirmative, and the doctor said 'Well, it doesn't affect your relationships with men at all now, does it?' My friend, being the kind of person she is, gave it a couple moments' serious thought, and said 'I wouldn't say it doesn't affect my relationships *at all*.' The doctor (a woman) gave her a pitying look, shook her head and actually said 'tsk, tsk.' I couldn't believe her reaction - were you supposed to go through a huge trauma in your life like that and *completely* act as though it never happened, no matter how much help and therapy you received for it? I just didn't get it, and I still don't. Other RL-inspired conversations have found their way in here too - but I'm not telling where those are ;) I actually think we've all had these conversations at one time or another............

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"Good job, darlin'. You did real good that time." Marie's trademark brilliant smile greeted Logan's compliment. At first, the self-defense and fighting lessons had been extremely difficult for her. Not physically difficult, thanks to Logan's transferred strength and healing, but emotionally so. She didn't like it when Logan pretended to attack her and she wouldn't make any move to attack him. Tears began flowing on more than one occasion. But Logan had been patient, riding out the emotions and reassuring her that he wouldn't hurt her, and was doing this only so that she would be better protected. A passionate round of love making usually followed each training session, and Logan's plain tenderness and affection during those times went a long way toward reinforcing his message. Now, Marie hardly ever teared up at all during the lessons. And the way her smile was turning from proud accomplishment to spicy sensuality told Logan that she was ready for today's post-lesson activities. "Wanna head back?"

Much to his surprise, Marie shook her head no. Logan quirked up an eyebrow, but before he could query her on what might be wrong, she came over to him, looking as playful as he'd ever seen her and practically vibrating with desire. "I wanted to try something different this time," she purred, putting her hands on his chest. "It's a nice warm day, and I thought, maybe, if you'd like, we could stay out here for - for you know."

Logan smiled at that. As many pheremones as she might be putting off, she was still shy, innocent Marie underneath it all. It was equal parts amusing and gratifying that she was beginning to try out playing the role of seductress - it meant that she was finally becoming comfortable with exercising her sexual appeal to Logan, with attracting him and offering sex. It suddenly occurred to Logan that her trust for him must really run deep for her to try this. "I'd like that. They didn't usedta call me the Wolverine for nothin', you know. We animals like the great outdoors."

Her 'vixen' demeanor wavered all of a sudden. "You're not an animal," she said softly, and altogether more seriously. "I've seen those and you're not one of them."

"'Course not. You're right," Logan soothed, drawing her into an embrace while mentally castigating himself for ruining her mood. "Sorry, darlin'."

She nodded, then pulled back a bit to face him. "So....here? What do you think?"

"I think yes." That came out in a purr of his own. "I think anywhere you'd like would be just fine. You're the important ingredient, darlin'." The smile was back on her at those words. Logan returned it and vowed to watch what he said more closely.

"Do you mind being on top?" She took both his hands in hers and began walking backwards, leading him to a small plateau in the hill, somewhere that would be comfortable.

"Never." Giving her hands a gentle squeeze, he eagerly followed. When they reached her chosen spot, Logan stripped off his sweaty shirt and lay it down on the ground as she slowly removed her shorts and tank top. Her clothing joined his shirt, and was followed by his denim shorts to form a little nest for the both of them. She lay down on the ground and drew him down with her. Large, rough hands reached up to cradle her face. "I love you, darlin'." A tender kiss punctuated the words.

"I love you too," Marie whispered. "I don't think I'll ever be able to make you understand how much." Logan replied with a more passionate kiss, and felt her squirm beneath him a bit. The sweat that coated both of their bodies from the workout made for a very satisfying slide against each other. As their kiss deepened, Logan's hands left her face in favor of migration south. Soon, they blanketed her breasts, caressing, squeezing, and even pinching a bit. By now, he knew what Marie liked, both in terms of physical arousal and in terms of emotional needs. This kind of slow, deliberate foreplay was reassuring for her, and Logan didn't mind indulging in it. It gave him the opportunity to luxuriate in her scent and feel, and to brand her with his. "Oh.....mmmm....."

Marie was increasingly enjoying the purely sexual aspects of their relationship, and today's peek at VixenMarie was great progress. At first, she had been very tense, shy, nervous. After Logan's injury, though, she'd become more bold, more sensual. He caught a moan or groan escaping her often now, and sometimes also caught an unguarded movement - a bucking of her hips, an arch of her back - that signaled her purely physical enjoyment of their acts. Logan liked seeing those. He wanted her to feel loved during sex, but he also wanted for Marie that raw desire, that surge of passion that comes along with making love. "That's it, darlin'," he encouraged.

"Please, Logan....." Knowing what the sighing plea was requesting, he slid one hand between them, down along her stomach, and he slowly worked gentle fingers between her legs. "Unnnhh......" Her head lolled back and her back arched before she caught herself a bit and refocused her eyes on his.

"It's OK if you wanna just let go, Marie. I gotcha." His fingers urged her on, and her knees came up a bit, conveying her assent to his softly spoken words. "That's it, baby." Logan increased the pace and firmness of his caresses, drawing quicker breaths from her. He didn't think he'd ever seen her get this close, this quickly, and he was inflamed by her responses. His erection was definitely beginning to demand attention, but he wanted to let her finish before tending to his own needs.

"God, I love it when you call my name. I gotcha, Marie, let yourself go. However it feels good, baby."

"Unnnhhhh!! Logan! Lo-ahhhh!" She arched and seized more strongly than Logan had ever seen her. Much more strongly. The overpowering scent of her drew a soft growl from him as he continued to soothingly stroke her, helping her to ride out the sensations.

"Marie.....darlin'....." Panting and heaving like she'd just run a marathon or three, Marie's big brown eyes found his. "Now, OK, baby?" He always asked before penetrating her. He asked before most things, but before that especially. She nodded, and he positioned himself atop her, splaying her legs just a little wider. "Umph." He sunk into her in one smooth stroke.

It always felt a lot like heaven to him to be inside her. The intimacy of it was sometimes overwhelming, and more than a little awe and astonishment always accompanied this kind of joining together. Marie trusted him so completely, body and soul, that it humbled him, made him believe there must be some higher order to the universe, some higher power at work for something so pure and sacred as that trust to be visited upon him. It certainly wasn't like anything he'd ever known before, and there were times, especially when they were together like this, that he wondered just how the hell he'd ever lived without it. As he began a rapid, persistent rhythm, he propped himself up a bit so that he could watch her, wondering if she felt those same things.

Tiny hands explored his chest and shoulders as he moved with and against her. She was warm and slick, and given that combined with the touches, well - he wouldn't take long, he knew. That kind of touching, her tenderness, always made his stamina shrink to mere minutes. "Love you," she whispered. "I love you so much." Those words shortened the time he had left even further.

"Mph!" He'd meant to say he loved her too, that he loved her more than anything, but only a grunt came out. He knew he should slow his pace a bit if anything coherent would be forthcoming, but his body was screaming for him to go faster, deeper, harder, and Marie was pliant beneath him. His body won out. "M-marie!" He came hard, and in a rush. When he was just barely back to himself he looked down at his wife, watched her eyes slide shut and saw a small smile play at the corners of her sensual mouth as she took in a deep breath. Plain satisfaction at the feel of him coming inside her was written over every pore of her. Logan stared in rapt attention - she'd never looked like this before.

"Mmmmm¼¼." Her contented purr stirred him out of his haze.

"Marie," Logan said with a snarl, framing her face with his hands and guiding her gaze to him. "Love you. You're all mine." That widened her smile considerably. "God, baby¼¼." Feminine legs and arms curled around him, securing him to her. Sweat and sex permeated the summer air, and both seemed inclined to freeze time a bit, to just bask in this moment. "That was so good."

"I want to lick you," she whispered, barely audible.

"Go 'head," he whispered back. Her soft, hot tongue began grooming him at his sideburns, gently wiping him clean of the sweat of his exertions. It was his turn to purr. She'd asked to do it periodically after his injury, and he knew it was like kissing for her - soft, affectionate, a little sexual and a lot sensual but more than that. He liked it. "Mmmm¼.."

"Wook!" Both entangled parties whipped around to sight the source of the small voice that had interrupted their intimacies. It was Christopher, and Scott was not far behind. Logan felt Marie stiffen in his arms and heard her heartbeat jack up. "Dada, wook!"

"Come here Christopher," Scott said firmly, scooping his son up in his arms. It was the first time either Logan or Rogue had seen Scott since he'd thrown up in their cabin's bathroom, all those weeks ago. Frankly, all parties involved would have liked to have kept it that way. "Sorry. We were out for a walk. We didn't know you were out here." Logan let out a snarl, and not one of the good ones. "Sorry."

"Logan¼." Marie clutched him to her, covering her nakedness, when he made a move to get up. Logan's eyes darted to hers and he stilled his motion, but he let out a get-the-hell-out-of-here growl in Scott's direction.

"We'll just go," Scott supplied, taking the entirely unsubtle hint. When he'd receded out of their sight and scent, Rogue relaxed minutely.

"Do you think he was watching us? Do think he saw me - saw me - "

"Nah," Logan said, less out of surety that it was so than out of wanting to comfort her. "Looked like the kid kinda stumbled on us. Fuckers." He once again framed her face with his hands. "It's OK, Marie, you're OK." She nodded and tried to smile, but Logan could smell her anxiety. "You want me to talk to him? Find out for sure what he saw?"

She thought about it for a minute, then shook her head, frowning deeply. "I don't think I really want to know. I - oh!" She clasped a hand to her mouth and suddenly flung Logan off of her. Marie shot up and sprinted for a nearby bush, promptly retching up the contents of her stomach on it.

"Goddammit," Logan cursed under his breath as he made his way over to Marie. She didn't turn to face him, but she'd stopped throwing up.

"Sorry. Sorry. I don't know what happened." Logan was pretty sure he had it figured out. The thought of Scott seeing her naked or in the throes of sex had made her vomit. Literally. It wasn't that hard to pin down.

"It's OK. Come on, put my shirt on, OK? Your tank top's shot anyhow. Let's just head back, darlin'."

Wiping her mouth clean and turning back to face him, she apologized again. "I'm sorry. I - I ruined it. We were having a really nice time."

"We were. And you didn't ruin nothin'. Come on, lemme take you home, where we don't have toddlers runnin' around loose, takin' peeks at us." The small attempt at humor had worked - she smiled. Escorting her to their jeep and keeping an arm around her shoulders, Logan began their trek home with a scowl.

"Oh dear." That was just about all Hank could think to say in response to Scott's recounted tale of his encounter with Logan and Rogue.

"Maybe I should just pack our things now," Scott mused darkly.

"Well, I am - I am certain he realizes it was a mistake, an accident. He can hardly think you did something malicious or intentional to - to stumble upon them in that fashion." Scott raised one eyebrow in response, actually doing quite a good imitation of Logan's favored facial expression. "Well, he will, ah, realize that eventually."

Scott sighed and leaned back in his chair, glancing over to where Holly was supervising the kids. Christopher was playing happily with Jules, and Hank's wife was rocking their baby, Jane, as she drifted off for a nap. "I just don't feel like I belong here anymore, Hank, and not just because of the accident today. I mean - I don't have anything to do, nothing except taking care of Christopher."

"And helping me to build our addition," Hank corrected. "Your help there has been invaluable."

"Thanks," Scott replied, smiling tightly. He didn't like being on the receiving end of anyone's charity, even his good friend's. "But we're almost done. What then? Bobby's been taking care of a lot of things, and you've been interacting with Logan, and I just feel¼¼¼.lost, I guess. I've never not had anything to do before."

"Believe me," Hank said in a conspiratorial tone, "as soon as Christopher hits the terrible twos you shall be plenty occupied, my friend."

Scott tried for a more genuine smile at that. "How are things going with Holly and Jane?" he asked, nodding in their direction and keeping his voice at a conversational tone, just low enough not to interrupt Jane's impending nap.

"Very well, I think. Jane seems to be thriving, and that is especially gratifying to see. Holly seems to be settling in very well. She has been of so much help to me, and not just medically. I had forgotten how large a difference it can make to have a helpmate, a co-parent. I had become accustomed to performing all the household duties alone, and her help is a welcome respite."

"Jules seems to really have taken to her." At present, the small blue child was playing happily with some books at her feet.

"Indeed. And she to Jules - she is teaching him to read."

"Mmm-hmm," Hank noted with pride, puffing out his chest a little. "Jules is learning quite rapidly for his age, if I do say so myself."

Scott's pasted-on pleasant smile turned genuine at that. It was the first time in a long time he'd seen Hank joyful. "Sounds like everything's going your way lately."

"For a refreshing change of pace, yes," Hank dead panned. He shared a grin with his ex- teammate for a moment, then adopted a serious expression. "Things with Logan will be all right, Scott. I do not think that, after all that has transpired, he would kick you and Christopher out because of an accident. He will anger, he will rant and rave a bit, but he will calm and do the sensible thing eventually."

"Yeah, Logan and sensible, that goes together."

"Scott," Hank chided at his friend's obvious sarcasm. "He is not my favorite person either, and not - not whom I would choose to lead this settlement. But even you must admit that he has been fairly forgiving toward those who have offended him. Even you must admit that, everything considered, he is hardly the irrational despot one might have projected him to become."

"I know there will never be peace between you," Hank continued in a softer tone, ignoring Scott's barb. "But at least while Christopher is young, I hope that you can make peace with the idea of living here under his rule. There is no better place for your child at the moment. This is the world we are left with."

"I know, I know." Scott blew out a big breath. "I know you're right. And I know I have to - I have to accept the fact that we're here for the duration. I just - it's not easy. It's not easy, and I keep pissing him off."

"Yes, you do. You might want to look into stopping that." It was Hank's turn for an understated burst of sarcasm, and it produced the expected grin on Scott's features. Hank returned his friend's smirk and leaned back in the chair. "Don't worry," he reassured, hoping that his assessment of Logan was correct. "Everything will be fine."

"Just talk to me, darlin', talk to me." Marie answered only in gasping sobs. Logan held her a little closer, trying to soothe her. They'd come home and made love, but Marie had unusual difficulty reaching climax and when she did, she burst into tears immediately afterward. Logan was sure this was somehow an after-effect of their encounter with Scott and Christopher earlier, but he wasn't exactly sure how to deal with it. He needed some input from Marie. "It's OK," he reassured.

"It's all right, just talk to me, OK? Tell me what's goin' on."

"Shhh." He began rocking her a bit, hoping that would work to calm her. It seemed to help a little, so he kept it up. "Everything's OK. You don't hafta be sorry. Just talk to me, tell me what's goin' on with you, baby."

"I don't know." More tears followed her admission, and Logan simply waited them out. "I just got - got scared."

"You don't hafta be scared with me, Marie. You're always safe with me, darlin'. Always."

"I know," she wailed miserably. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I got scared. I know you're safe. I just - I just - " Logan could tell she'd stopped herself - it wasn't the sobs this time.

"Whatever you were gonna say," he whispered gently, "you just let it come out, OK? I won't be upset to hear it. I understand if you get scared sometimes, I do. I'm not offended. I just wanna make sure you know you're safe with me, that's all. You can tell me, whatever it is, Marie."

"I'm not sure what it is," she replied, trying to steady her voice but still clinging to Logan's naked form for dear life. "It was having someone watch me, I think. I just - I don't know. I don't like that. I don't like people seeing me - seeing me - do things. It's wrong. It's dirty. It - it was what it was like with them, they all watched, and I just - "

She stopped again and when she didn't go on, Logan prompted, "More. Come on, whatever's in there, let it out."

"I just don't want to feel like that - filthy, humiliated. It scares me. And I felt like that when I saw him watching." Her tears had slowed considerably with the admission. "I want - I want - "

"Tell me," Logan softly urged.

"I don't want you to think of me that way. I don't want to *be* that way. I - I never said no, I never fought them, and I'm not sure how I really am, you know?" Trembling had replaced the tears now. Marie burrowed closer into his chest and Logan could smell her fear and anxiety.

"I don't understand, baby - what do you mean, not sure how you really are?"

"What if I'm like that? I didn't say no, I didn't try to fight them when they - when they did stuff to me. I couldn't break out of the hold she had on my mind. What if I - what if it all happened because I'm bad or - or - "

Logan was the one to interrupt this time. "No, baby, no."

"B-but I don't know for sure. I don't want to be that way, but what if I am? There was a reason Jean picked me and a reason that - that I couldn't stop her, couldn't control my own mind. What if, deep down, I wanted those things?" Her voice trailed off in a terrified, ashamed whisper, and for the first time, Logan's feelings toward his former friend and teammate were wholly devoid of any empathy or warm nostalgia for how she used to be. For the first time, there wasn't a trace of anything but rage toward the woman he'd known and worked beside for years. If Jean had stood before him at that moment, she wouldn't have survived long enough to take a breath. Somehow, he hadn't realized until now just how thorough and insidious the damage done to Marie had been. Not only did she have to suffer horrible abuse, she'd been made to internalize that image of herself, the idea that she on some level invited or enjoyed what had happened to her. He let out a growl without realizing it, and felt a corresponding shudder race through Marie's small form. She tried to part from him, to scoot away. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's - c'mere, baby, lemme hold you. It's OK. I'm glad you told me." Logan fought to get his emotions in check. "I'm just pissed off at Jeannie. I'm pissed off that you think those things 'cause they're not true. They're not true, and you shouldn't think 'em."

"Sorry," Marie mumbled reflexively, still squirming in Logan's embrace a bit. He took a deep breath, huffed it out, and tried again.

"You don't have anythin' to be sorry for, Marie. Not a thing. I'm not mad at you for thinkin' those things, I'm just - I'm mad that you think 'em 'cause they're wrong, really wrong. They're all fucked up. It's not your fault that you might think that, it's normal for people to blame themselves sometimes. But you *aren't* bad, you *didn't* want those things, and Jeannie didn't pick ya 'cause there was somethin' wrong with ya like that."

"Why, then?" Her big brown eyes stared up at him earnestly. He wasn't sure he had an answer, but he knew she needed to hear something.

"Probably because you were there, probably because she knew you trusted her and wouldn't be on your guard against her. It wasn't anythin' 'bout you, Marie." His own judgment told him that wasn't quite true - Jean had probably also chosen her because she was young, a virgin, and drop-dead beautiful, because all those things combined to give her the kind of innocent beauty that men like Gary took a special pleasure in defiling. Jean would've wanted whoever would've given her the best shot at successfully getting Scott out, and Logan no longer put those kind of bleak calculations past her. But Marie didn't need to hear all that, and the last thing she needed was a reason to hate her looks or her youth. Logan wanted those to be good things for her, especially since, thanks to his transferred healing powers, she'd look sixteen and beautiful for a hell of a long time.

"No?" He could almost taste how badly she wanted to believe that. He fervently hoped that he could convince her to.

"No," he answered with absolute surety in his voice, and a solid squeeze to punctuate the word.

"Do you ever wish I was different?" she asked timidly. Logan had actually been anticipating that question.

"Darlin', people come as-is. Everybody does, that's just the way things are. I wish like hell you'd have never hadta go through what you did. I'd give anythin' I got to be able to make it never happen, to be able to have protected you from Jeannie. But there's not one thing I wanna change about you, not a single thing. Don't ever think I'm sittin' over here thinkin' - 'hey, I want a different Marie' or 'gee, I wish she was this or that insteada what she is'."

"What do you think?"

"I think - look at that beautiful woman who's all mine. Look at that amazin', strong person who I'm so damn glad I got to be with."

"You think I'm strong?"

"Mmm-hmm." Logan shifted her in his arms, cradling her more comfortably.

"But I couldn't stop her, I couldn't stop them. I was helpless."

"You got through it and got away from them. You were strong, Marie, so strong. You survived, and believe me, that's the most important thing. It ain't bein' able to always stop who's out to hurt ya or to always get your own way in things - it's easy to be strong when you can make those things happen for ya. What matters is bein' able to make it through, even when that don't happen, bein' able to survive the shit you prayed to God would never happen to ya. You've got strength in spades, darlin'."

Marie just cuddled herself to him, assimilating his words a bit. Finally, she began stroking his chest and he felt her body relax in his arms. Logan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I'm sorry I cried and got all upset. I really - I really, really, like being together with you."

"Good," Logan answered lightly. "And it's OK if you cry. You don't hafta be sorry. You know that. I'm just glad you talked with me 'bout it a little bit. I love you, and I always wanna know what's goin' on with you, Marie - good, bad or indifferent. I wanna know 'cause sometimes I can fix it if somethin's wrong and even if I can't, I can still hold ya and tell ya that everythin's gonna be all right now."

"It will be," she affirmed, then paused and became thoughtful. "But that's because of you. Things with me - I can recover a little bit, I can let the emotions out a little bit, but only because you're here and you're helping me. I don't think I could ever look at life and think - 'yeah, things will be OK' if I didn't have you." Her words were nakedly honest, and Logan didn't quite know what to say to them. "I don't know if I'll ever be normal, though. I don't know if it can ever be like - like it never happened."

"Darlin', you are normal. And I don't think that things like that - they don't go away, not totally, not completely. I wish they did, but I'd be lyin' to ya if I said that that's how it was gonna work. Things like what happened to you, and what happened to me - they're always with ya, they change who you are completely - how could they not? But they don't always control you, they don't hafta dictate what kinda person you are afterwards."

"But isn't that how it's supposed to be?" Marie lifted her head to look at him. "Isn't that, like, what Oprah and all the psychiatrists would say? Aren't you supposed to get over it, not ever let it affect you at all, ever again?"

"Oprah's dead, darlin', and so are most of the head-shrinkers." His eyes turned serious, and he wound a tendril of her hair around his finger. "Things don't just disappear, not things like that, and I kinda think it would be almost insultin' if they did, almost like makin' it go away lessens how bad or how profound what happened really was. You don't hafta dwell on it or let it ruin your life, but I can't imagine goin' through some big-ass trauma and havin' it disappear offa your emotional radar screen, be totally wiped clean. It affects you, changes you, seeps inta you, in good ways and in bad. You gotta keep the good and get rid of the bad, but I don't think you ever just traipse through life like it never happened. It did happen. You gotta deal with it." His gaze fell upon her face, finding it crinkled in thought. "You're dealin' with it good, Marie. You're real strong. It happened, but it didn't touch any of the good things inside you, it didn't take those away, you didn't let it. You give me so much love and so much happiness, darlin', and that's downright amazin'. Even better - you let me love ya back." Her eyes came up to meet his, and she smiled at that. "That's a pretty good thing."

"Yeah," she agreed, then wiggled up to give him a soft, sensual kiss. "It's a very good thing." She kissed him again, and the time for conversation was over.

"Do you ever think that perhaps the day contains too few hours?" Hank queried of his wife, Holly, as they both sat on the cabin's couch at the end of a long day. Jane had been difficult to get to sleep tonight, and Jules didn't want to go to bed until after his baby sister. Between building the addition, caring for the children, and the incredible amount of work that had to be put into everyday living in these rough conditions, Hank wasn't quite sure how he would've managed it all without Holly.

"Now, sometimes," she answered genially. "Before, there always seemed to be too many hours in the days." That was delivered in a somewhat darker tone and with a frown. It caught Hank's attention. Holly was almost unswervingly even-tempered and she'd never mentioned 'before' at all unless it was conversationally necessary. He wondered if she was trying to initiate some discussion on the topic.

"It must have been difficult for you." Holly seemed to catch herself a bit with Hank's words. She straightened, shuffled her feet, and nodded. "We, ah, do not have to discuss it if you wish."

"It's still a little close," Holly demurred, looking quite uncomfortable.

"I understand." Hank tried to think of a change of subject, but before anything came to him, Holly spoke again.

"It was bad," she said tersely. "Things were done to all of us. I'm very happy to be safe, here, now." She said it with a finality, as though it was all that would ever emerge from her on the topic.

"I am glad of that as well, very glad." A silence hung between them. There had been a few awkward moments in the weeks since they'd been married and usually, Holly would smile and excuse herself to attend to some real or manufactured task. Hank wasn't sure if in these moments, she became uncomfortable because she feared that he harbored a romantic or, God forbid, a sadistic interest in her of some sort, or whether she simply had a very low tolerance for social unease. In any case, she wasn't smiling or excusing herself this time. She simply remained on the couch, fidgeting a little, and staring at the floor. After pondering this new response a bit, Hank ventured a change of subject. "The tomatoes are coming along nicely. Actually, all of the vegetables are doing quite well. I daresay we shall have a fresh salad sometime this summer."

"I miss salad." Holly replied in a light tone, with a relieved smile painting her features. "What do you miss the most, you know, from before everything went kerflooey?"

"Well, I would say that I missed Twinkies the most - they were my favorite indulgence - but in fact, many of them have survived quite well on the grocery shelves of the towns we've raided." That prompted a giggle from Holly and a delighted grin from Hank. It was the first time he'd made her laugh in quite that way. "I suppose I am fortunate to have favored such an indestructible treat."

"They're bad for you," she chided good-naturedly. "What else do you miss?"

"My wife." It came out before Hank quite even knew what he was saying, and he snapped his mouth shut before anything else unruly could pop out. Just for good measure, he added, "Ah, sorry."

"It's OK." Holly seemed to understand that he'd meant his previous wife, Jules' mother, and she didn't seem offended. "She must've been a really great person. Jules remembers her a little and he talks about her sometimes."

"She was a wonderful person," Hank agreed softly. "I do miss her."

"Were you married long?"

"No," Hank replied, "Not until just before, ah, shortly before she died. But we were together a long time. I am very grateful to have a small piece of her in Jules." Hank smiled gently and decided to take a bit of a conversational risk. "Did you have any family, before the virus?"

"I grew up in foster care, mostly. My parents died when I was two. Car accident. I guess I didn't really have a family before." It came out in an even, matter-of-fact tone, without a shade of sadness or regret. "I guess this is the first family I've ever really had."

"And what an odd one to start off with," Hank gently joked.

"Oh, you make a pretty good husband." Holly said it easily, but a hint of nervousness asserted itself in her posture and bearing. "And Jules is a great kid."

"He has taken to you even better than I had hoped. I think he has missed having a female figure in his life. He certainly relishes your company and attention."

"He's very easy to love. So is Jane. I didn't think - I never really thought about being a mom, and I certainly didn't think I'd be a natural at it, but it feels kind of good, kind of right."

"Parenthood can be daunting," Hank said, shifting to face her a bit more squarely. "Even with perfect children such as ours." That got another smile out of Holly, one Hank found himself returning. "We are doing well, for a pair of newlyweds."

"Very well," Holly returned with equal good humor.

A few days after their accidental encounter, Scott once again found himself in Logan's presence. He'd come, uninvited and without warning, to Scott's cabin. He announced that he wanted to have a discussion, one Scott assumed would consist largely of Logan chiding him for Christopher's unintended interruption of their 'romantic' life. He wasn't eager to have this conversation, but the sooner it was over with, the better, so Scott motioned Logan inside and gestured for him to sit at the kitchen table while busying Christopher with some toys and blocks on the nearby living room floor.

"He's gettin' bigger," Logan grunted in Christopher's general direction.

"Yes. But I'm sure you didn't come here to talk about that."

"Hmph." Logan eyeballed Scott across the table. "Guess I didn't."

Scott waited for several long moments for Logan to say something, but when the larger man was silent, he offered, "Look, I'm sorry we, ah, came up on you two like that. It was an accident."

Scott had never been fond of Logan's habit of simply grunting instead of having the courtesy and consideration to give a verbal answer, and he wasn't finding it any more endearing now. "Isn't that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

Scott sighed in put-upon frustration. "What, then?"

"'Bout what Jeannie was plannin' on doin' to bust you outta that jail. Did you know?"

Scott rose from his chair, fully indignant. "How dare you suggest that I knew? Do you think I would've ever agreed to - to let her do something like that? Jesus!"

Logan frowned, shifted in his chair, and gestured for Scott to sit back down. He remained standing, and glaring at Logan. "I didn't think ya did, but I hadta ask. Don't make a lotta sense to me, how you acted toward Rogue when I was down. Woulda made more sense if you knew and you kept it quiet, pretended to be all surprised. But this don't lie." Logan tapped his nose, and Scott's cheeks flamed in anger.

"Neither do I." He sat back down, pointedly yanking the chair around as he did so. Neither man noticed that Christopher had forgone his blocks for the show they were putting on. "And you should know that. You would've smelled it on me before when we talked about what happened."

"Wasn't lookin' for it then, wasn't focusin'," Logan explained with a casual, unapologetic air. "Wanted to know for sure."

"Is that what you came down here for?"

"Nah." Logan shifted in the chair again and leaned in toward Scott across the table. "I came down here 'cause I owe you a helluva ass-kickin' for whatcha did to my wife. Forgot 'bout that for a while, but got reminded when she puked her guts up inta the bushes after you and your kid came across us out there."

"So, what? You came here to beat me up, is that it?"

"Nah," Logan repeated. "*I* don't kick people when they're down," he added pointedly, causing Scott's anger to rise even more. "I came here to make sure you know I haven't forgotten 'bout what happened, and I came here to make sure you stay the hell away from my wife at all times, got it?"

"How was I supposed to know that you two were - "

"Summers, I don't give a damn if you gotta stay in your own fuckin' house all day to avoid us. You. Stay. Away. From. Her. Got it?"

"You can't expect us to stay here all the time. Christopher's a kid, he needs - "

"Uh-uh. This ain't 'bout what you and your kid need anymore. That stopped even bein' a factor the second you got it inta your head to act like a dickhead around Rogue. You won't ever really understand what you put her through, how scared she was, how much bad shit you dredged back up for her. I don't give a good goddamn what you hafta do to stay clear of her, but you're gonna do it. I don't want her to have the smallest worry that she's gonna hafta deal with you. If that means that you and the kid stay in here all the time, so fuckin' be it. I want you away from her, permanently." He leaned back, the very picture of a man who'd made his point and had every expectation that it would be heeded.

"Fine," Scott said tersely. The word veritably dripped with frustration and resentment.

"What's your fuckin' problem?" Logan inquired, with a hint of exasperation edging his tone. When Scott made no response, he continued. "You know, if you'd have kept your word to me that you wouldn't fuck up with her in the first place, there'd be no goddamn problem."

"Right," Scott mocked. "No problem. Things would be just peachy between us if I'd just kept my word."

"Yeah, they would've. You don't get it, you really don't get it do ya?"

Scott threw his hands up in the air and rocked back in his seat. "I guess not because I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"You think I give a shit 'bout all the water under the bridge with us? I don't. I wanted Jeannie, and I'll tell ya somethin', I'm damn glad I didn't get her 'cause I dunno how the hell you live with yourself after what she did on your behalf. But she's dead and buried now, so let it go."

"Fuck you," Scott shot back with obvious bitterness. "You never knew her. You just wanted to fuck her. And you would've never gotten her, Logan. Never." His eyes flared with an anger that frightened his son, an anger Logan hadn't ever seen on him either. "You're no better than the men who had Ro - "

Logan knew where that sentence would wind up as soon as Scott's face twisted and the words began to spill out. That pushed his own anger to overflowing and he rose and cut Scott off with a vicious punch to the jaw before any more words could escape him. Scott went reeling backwards, sprawling out of the chair and on to the floor. Logan took a step toward him, primed for a fight. But before he could get to his prone foe, he heard a small voice call out, "Dada!"

Christopher came rushing to his woozy father's side, and that shook Logan out of his feral haze a bit. He took several deep breaths while he watched the tiny boy try to assess his father's condition. Scott seemed to have just gotten the wind knocked out of him; Logan couldn't recall hearing or feeling his jaw break, which was a wonder given the strength of the punch. Finally, Scott managed to pull his son to his side with one hand and raise his head to glower at Logan.

"I'm fine," Scott answered with obvious effort. "Go play now. Go on." The little boy resolutely shook his head and clung to his father. Logan's angry expression didn't soften an iota, be he did hold out a hand to Scott, offering to help him up. Scott refused, pushing Christopher away as he stood up on his own.

"Go play, Christopher. Now." Logan had heard that clipped, commanding tone a hundred times in battle, but he could tell that it was a rarity to the child. Christopher flinched, but he also did as his father told him. Scott's eyes met Logan's and locked on them. "I thought you didn't hit people when they were down."

"Ah. Articulate as always."

"You wanna go another round?" Scott didn't reply. Logan visibly willed himself to calm a bit more. "I didn't mean to hit ya in fronta your boy." Scott still stood silent. "But the reality here is that I'm not gonna letcha get away with a piss poor, disrespectful attitude toward my wife. What happened to Rogue isn't fodder for your dick wavin' contest with me. It ain't some kinda joke. The next time, Scooter, I won't stop hittin' ya." Logan's deliberate, measured tone shook Scott, but he tried not to let it show. Bursts of uncontrolled temper were to be expected from Logan, but, for all his failings, Scott had never considered Logan to be the dispassionately malicious type. In his experience, that kind of anger was much more dangerous. "I meant it when I said things coulda turned out different. But I guess things are how they are now. I expect ya to keep away from my wife, Summers." Logan turned and stalked out the door, rubbing at his fist as he went. Scott knew it wasn't from any damage caused by the punch - it was the distinctive mannerism that heralded Logan's desire to unleash his claws, and that shook Scott a little more. He hadn't heeded Hank's advice to stop pissing Logan off very well at all, had he? Scott sighed and shook his head, mentally chastising himself and internally still raging at Logan for several long moments before noticing Christopher.

The child was ostensibly playing with his toys as instructed. He was sitting on the floor, and he had a block in his hand. But his eyes were wide and filled with tears and his small hands were trembling. "Oh, Christopher," Scott sighed as he moved to comfort his son. The child dropped the block and outstretched both arms toward his father as he began to cry in earnest. "It's OK. Everything's OK." Scott picked him up, holding him in his arms tightly.

"It's OK. It's OK." Scott gave him a gentle kiss to the forehead. "Everything's OK."

Hank listened to Scott recount his run-in with Logan as their combined families plus Bobby prepared to share a dinner together. Hank wasn't at all pleased with Scott's inability to restrain himself around Logan, and it seemed clear now that the next infraction, however small, would bring about Scott's departure from the settlement. Hank pled with his friend to be very careful not to commit any kind of infraction.

"I don't know what happens, Hank. I just - I just see red, no pun intended, when he gets his King of the World attitude."

"Scott," Hank said with wavering patience in each word. "Cope. You are an adult. You are a father. We are all in a difficult situation but this is the best situation our new world has to offer us. Whatever your feelings toward Logan, they are not worth jeopardizing your son's safety, are they?"

"No," Scott replied. "And I don't mean to be harsh toward Rogue, God knows I don't. I just get so angry."

"Have you considered," Hank said with sudden casualness, "that it is not really Logan or Rogue you are angry with?"

"Are you saying I'm still mad at Jean? I've gotten over it, Hank. It ended the second I realized what I'd been doing to Rogue because of all that anger, the second I started throwing up in their cabin. I've made my peace with it."

"Your reaction to Logan's comments about Jean would seem to indicate the contrary." Hank saw Scott's expression harden a bit, and he soothed, "We are all here to support you. I cannot claim to understand what you are going through but we are all sympathetic to the magnitude of your feelings and the severe difficulty of your situation."

"I didn't used to be the kind of person who *needed* help," Scott mused with barely-concealed bitterness. Before Hank could jump in with more reassurances, he held up a hand to forestall his friend's words of comfort. "I know, I know. And I appreciate your support, I do. But I feel so useless lately, and I just - I don't know why I can't keep my temper in check around Logan. I don't know why it's so hard. But I'm not mad at Jean. That's over. I just - I don't know."

"It is almost time for dinner," Hank changed the subject. "Would you call the others in?" Scott nodded, and rose to do ask Hank had requested. "And Scott - please, give some consideration to what we have discussed. If I can be of any help to you - "

"I know. I will." With that, he headed for the door to call the others. Pausing, he turned back to Hank. "Actually - would you mind taking a look at Christopher after dinner? He's been a little tired today, and he felt hot this afternoon. I don't think it's really anything, but¼.."

"Of course. I would be happy to." Hank exchanged smiles with his friend, glad that he could do something concrete to assist Scott, and glad that he had asked for Hank's help, at least on this small matter. Perhaps things were looking up after all.

A day later, Hank's optimism had entirely vanished. In fact, it had been replaced by utter shock and an acute dread verging on panic. "What I am telling you is that I do not know what it is." Hank was debriefing Logan on his examination of Christopher, as well as that of a camp resident that had come to his door in the middle of the night, having suddenly taken very ill. Both had developed symptoms alarmingly close to those the Legacy virus had induced in its victims. Several other residents were now exhibiting the very early symptoms - fever, stiffness in the joints, headaches - and Hank didn't quite know what to make of it. Everyone still surviving should be immune to the virus, but what if it had mutated, changed? What if this was something else altogether, another biogenetically engineered weapon designed to wipe out mutants? On the other hand, what if it was merely a very bad case of the flu?

"Whaddya gotta do to find out?" Hank reflected that it was no surprise that Logan met the news with a great deal of equanimity. Whatever happened, he and Rogue would likely be protected by their healing power. There was a hint of real concern behind his words, though.

"I- I do not know if I can find out. I would need at least - at the very least, I would need some sophisticated equipment, and a real laboratory facility. Somewhere to create sterile conditions. But even before everything fell apart, no scientist could determine how to combat Legacy. None of our best minds - "

"What about the operatin' room?"

"Hmmm...." Hank pondered that. It wasn't a half-bad idea. Hank had been consulting on the design of a doctor's office for some time now, one that would include a real operating room for the camp residents who needed surgery for whatever reason. With Logan's backing and the help of several residents, the project had begun construction two months ago. It was nearing completion, but much of the equipment had not been located yet, much less moved to the facility. However, the room was finished, there was some equipment already there, and he could create sterile, laboratory-like conditions in which to study this illness. "Yes. It could work, but it needs to be finished quickly. Very quickly."

Logan gave a gruff nod at that. "Get however many men ya need. Tell 'em it's a priority and if they give you any shit, you send 'em to me to get straightened out. Do whatcha hafta do to finish it, Hank. If it's another Legacy, we could lose a helluva lotta people. We gotta know."

"I concur. I shall ask Scott to assist me in spreading the word and gathering help." Logan was silent at that, but since he hadn't said no, Hank continued. "I shall let you know as soon as I know anything, and I shall inform you if more people take ill." He rose with some difficulty, due to the hip, and Rogue rose with him, helping to steady him a bit. "Ah, thank you."

"No problem. Say hello to Jules for me." The polite smile that had hovered on her lips throughout Hank's visit bled from her features. "Jules - he's all right, isn't he? He's not sick, right?"

"Correct," Hank reassured. "But Christopher is worsening." Hank couldn't quite read Rogue's reaction to that. "We must remember that it could be nothing, though. It could be a simple case of the flu. We must not overreact." She nodded at that, but didn't meet his eyes. As he made pleasantries and goodbyes, Hank tried to make his own mind follow that advice. They had to find out what they were dealing with.

Marie had been pacing the kitchen since Hank's departure. After about ten minutes of watching her, Logan finally spoke. "You worried 'bout the little kid?"

"Jules? Yeah, I'm very worried. I like him. He's such a good kid. I don't want him to get sick."

"I meant Christopher." Sharp hazel eyes tracked her as she continued pacing. When she said nothing, he added, "Wouldn't blame ya if you weren't. Understandable if you don't give a shit one way or the other or even if you - "

"I don't want him to die," Marie interrupted in a defensive tone. Logan just watched her and waited. At last, she stopped pacing and leaned back against the counter, facing him. "I know, in my head, that what happened to me isn't his fault. I just - I don't know. I guess that I - the thought occurred to me that it would be kind of poetic justice if something did happen to him. I mean, all that Jean went through to give him the perfect life, and now - boom, he's sick. He's sick and it could be serious. The thought of her sitting up in heaven or wherever and having to watch him suffer as much as I suffered - I don't like myself for it, but I kind of had a feeling of satisfaction or 'fair's fair' when that occurred to me. But the next thing I thought was that it would've been all for nothing. Everything I went through would've kind of been for nothing then. Not even Jean would've gotten what she wanted out of it. It would've been for absolutely nothing. I didn't like that thought very much," she finished ruefully.

"I don't think Jeannie's in heaven, Marie."

"You know what I mean - heaven, the afterlife, wherever." She said it in an almost pouting tone, one Logan was unaccustomed to hearing from her. His expression must've said so because she softened upon seeing it. "Sorry. It's just that - why wouldn't she be in heaven? Everyone loved her. Her thing with me was a minor little blip in the big, sprawling mass of glorious perfection that was Jean's life."

"'Minor blip' ain't how I see it." Logan huffed and rose from his chair, taking slow but deliberate steps toward her. He waited until he was within an arms' length before continuing. "I've seen what it did to you, Marie." Her eyes darted to the floor, and Logan gently put his fingertips beneath her chin and lifted her head back up. "It's OK. But it's not a small thing. It's a big thing. I don't think I'll ever be in any position to judge who gets inta heaven, but what she did to you - it's not somethin' that can be made up for by a lifetime of good works. Nothin' she did before makes what she did to you then any better. It's just - it's there, it's how it is. I know me and everybody else didn't think she could do somethin' like that at first. I know we kept sayin' - no way, she's not that kinda person. But she was that kinda person. She was. And even if there was good in there too, it don't wash away the bad."

She'd been looking at him with wide, wet brown eyes the whole time, and now a tear or two spilled over onto her cheek. "Did you love her?"

"I thought I did, a long time ago. What I felt for her couldn't hold a candle to what I feel for you. It's not even close, Marie. I didn't really know what love was, back then. It wasn't until you came here, until I came to know you, that my heart opened up. I love you. I married you."

"Not just because she's gone, right? Not just - not just because I'm left and she's not?"

"How can you even ask that, Marie?" Logan saw those eyes get wetter and he reminded himself that Marie was at least as equally untutored in relationships and love as he was. And that she was still a teenager, one who'd been through much more than her fair share of trauma. "I never thought of the words marriage and Jeannie together. I never thought of the words marriage and anybody together. But I couldn't wait to make you my wife."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know you love me, I do. I'm sorry."

"It's OK. Threw me a little 'cause I thought - well, I didn't know you thought that."

"I don't, really I don't. I don't, Logan. Please don't be mad. I don't think that."

"Yeah," Logan insisted, "you did. It's OK." He forced himself to take a deep breath and calm his internally churning emotions. It really had stung him, that she would think that of him, but he tried to remind himself it had little to do with him and a lot to do with Marie's history with Jean. "You can say whatcha think. You're always safe with me, Marie, and I mean that in a lotta ways. You're safe to say whatcha think or if I'm pissin' ya off. But I hope you don't think that any more. I wouldn't - it wouldn't be the truth and I wouldn't wanna have you seein' things that way."

"I won't. I - I'm sorry."

"It's OK." He hugged her to him, and felt her return the embrace with a firm squeeze. "It's OK, baby."

"Shhh. It's all right."