Terri's Peep Hut ~~ Fiction Archive

Comments: This one sprung from reading a fic (and writing several of my own) wherein Marie suffers a sexual assault and Logan helps her through it. I started wondering what it would look like for their roles to be reversed, for Marie to help Logan through the aftermath of a sexual assault. It started out as a larger story, but for me, it ended up boiling down to what you see here.

"Logan, please." The two simple words reached Logan's ears through the closed door. It wasn't the first time Marie had been by since they made it back, and he wanted badly to see her. He still didn't quite believe she was alive and well; when they'd fought the government agents and she'd been shot, he immediately went to touch her, but she was very weak and his powers didn't seem to be helping her much. By the time he blacked out, she was still unconscious. He ached to replace those memories with visions of her alive and well. Even the torture and rape he'd experienced after waking up in a government lab seemed trite compared to the gravity of Marie's death. The pain of that possibility overwhelmed everything else he was put through. In fact, he would've been perfectly content to let himself be tortured to death, except that Marie had stubbornly insisted on leading a mission to rescue him. He still wasn't especially happy to be alive now, except that Marie had lived, except that he still had her. "Logan"

He'd told her to go away many times. She was the one who broke into his cell, who saw him strapped face down to the table, legs spread apart; she was the only one who saw what one of the guards was doing to him. Of course, Marie had promptly killed him with the claws that seemed to be a permanent addition after their last touch. She cut Logan's bonds and freed him, never said a word to the other x- men, and didn't seem to look at Logan with any pity, any disgust. She even knew that this wasn't the first time, thanks to the memories they shared. Yet he found himself unable to see her despite his need to do so.

"Logan, please let me come in. I just can't - I need to see you, please." He knew what those bastards were capable of, and he saw how they'd looked at Marie during the fight. The shot was an accident - they'd intended to take her alive, Logan knew that. They'd probably left her for dead on the battlefield, and Logan was grateful. He'd rather suffer what he had instead of Marie; if given the choice a thousand times, a thousand times he'd pick out himself for the tortures and assaults. Marie didn't deserve that, and he'd literally give anything to make sure the only experience she ever had with that kind of pain was through his distant transferred memories. That was bad enough. "I'm going to cut the lock with my claw, OK? I think it'll cut metal. I just - I need to see you."

"Hang on." She might get hurt trying that, Logan thought. He could only remember the metal claws; he wasn't sure what the bone claws could or couldn't do. He rose and crossed the room, unlocking the door but not opening it. He settled himself back on the bed as Marie entered.

She didn't say a word as she shut the door behind her, locking it as well. She looked like hell. Logan wondered if she'd eaten since they got back. He knew she hadn't slept the night - she'd spent it knocking at his door and whispering to him through it every twenty minutes or so all night long and into today. Now that he'd finally let her in, she came to sit beside him on the bed right away. She removed her gloves, folding them into a pile that she lay down between them. "Hey," she whispered. "I have some news. I wanted to - to ask you a favor. I want to try something out with you, one of Hank's theories."

Logan's nose crinkled up. That wasn't what he'd expected. He'd expected her to come bearing sympathy and apologies, concern, or even forced laughter. He hadn't expected to be asked a favor, but he found himself agreeing to it before he even knew what it was, exactly. "Sure."

"Since I still have the claws and the healing," Marie said casually, "Hank thinks I might be able to touch you now. You know, with my bare skin. He's pretty sure my mutation works that way. I thought I'd ask if you'd like to try that theory out."

"Uh-huh. If Hank's right. I know - I know I've been a pain in the ass to you in the touching department and sucked your life out and that you don't owe me any favors. But I'm asking this one anyway. I'd like very much to touch you, Logan." His eyes narrowed and before he could second- guess himself, he grabbed her bare hand and sandwiched it between his larger ones. Nothing happened. Nothing at all. Marie's grin escaped again. "I thought Hank would be right. He's a genius, that guy." She let Logan keep a hold of her hand but threw her other arm around him in a hug. "Thanks, Logan. Thanks."

"No problem, kid." She smelled like her shower gel and her lotion - Marie-sage and Marie-vanilla. Logan breathed her in deeply before pushing her back from him a little. It was altogether too tempting to have a touchable, good-smelling Marie on his bed in his current state. He wanted to do all kinds of things to her, none of which would really be for Marie at all; no, they would be for his own sole satisfaction if they did them now. "Get goin', though, huh? I wanna be alone."

Marie disentangled her hand from his, but shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it if you don't. That's fine. I do want to talk about you being by yourself. That - that isn't working out very well for me, you know. I need to be close to you now."

"Put yourself in my shoes for a second. If - if you'd seen me getting hurt that way, would you be able to let me out of your sight?" Her deep brown eyes held his wary hazel ones. "No, you'd want to keep me right by you for a hell of a long time after. It would drive you up a wall to be on the other side of a closed door from me. That's exactly how I feel too. It's making me nuts. I need to be close to you now, I need that a lot."

Just the thought of Marie face down on a lab table, some guard ravaging her small body, made Logan's blood run hot. She was right - he would need to be close to her. Close? Hell, he'd be watching her like a hawk. That door would've come down a long time ago. "OK. OK, I guess. But just - I just wanna be quiet, huh? I don't wanna talk."

"Me either." Marie kicked off her shoes and drew her legs up beneath her on the bed, sitting Indian- style. "I want to touch. It's been too long since I've been able to touch anybody and I'd like to touch you. What do you think?"

"No," Logan answered quickly. He caught her wince at that before she could entirely hide the reaction. "We can do that later. Not now." His emotions were still racing; every instinct in him wanted to drown himself in her touch. But he didn't want their first touches to be like that, not like that at all.

"Are you OK? I mean, from touching me. I took a lot, Hank said I must've to get your powers, uh, permanently. Are - are you OK? Do you feel weird or anything?" She chanced a sideways glance at him, and he saw her eyes glistening with barely reigned-in tears.

"I was so scared that I killed you. I don't think I could've lived with that." Something about the way she said it made Logan unconsciously lean in toward her. "I'm glad I can't hurt you with my skin any more. I wish - well, I wish I'd never gotten this whole crappy mutation, but more than anything, I wish I'd never hurt you with it."

"It's too bad that we're not doing touching now. I could really use a good, solid, no-fear-of-fatality hug right about now." Her soft eyes and half-smile weakened his resolve. Just one hug, he thought. Marie needs it, after all. His arms went around her and she leaned into him, letting her head drop to rest on his shoulder. "Thanks."

"Yeah." It was too much, too close, and Logan knew it almost instantly. He couldn't stop his hands from roaming her back in firm caresses, and he was already burying his face in her hair. "You should go now, baby." That was all he could do, he was too far gone to fight his instincts any harder. It didn't even come out in a convincing voice.

He took her at her word, taking her face in his hands and pushing it back so he could see her. Her skin was warm beneath his fingers, and he drifted a thumb down to sample the moistness of her lips. Her mouth compliantly opened to his touch, and her tongue darted out to give his thumb a soft lick. He let out a low rumble from deep in his chest at that, and pushed her down to lie flat on the bed. Some now- very-distant part of him wanted to stop this, wanted to step away from all that she was offering for her own sake. But his emotions were raging and his instincts were screaming for him to drown his pain. He was a man on fire dipping a toe into a cool lake; there was no way he could not jump in.

Strong hands found the collar of her blouse and he ripped it open, leaving the buttons to fly across the room, unheeded. Extending a lone claw, he cut through the lacy fabric of her bra, exposing her to him. He ran rough hands over her breasts, down to her waist and along her hips as she shrugged her pants and underwear off. He couldn't stop touching her now that he could, now that he'd started to.

Marie's tiny hands busily fussed with Logan's clothing, divesting him of all of it in short order. He settled himself on top of her, and she let one leg fall to each side of him, feeling his erection brush against her sex. "Marie," he moaned, as his mouth found hers and nudged her lips open. His kiss wasn't feral or rough. There was nothing of violence or savagery in it at all. It was desperate, needy, and while Logan may have been startled by his need, Marie didn't seem to be. She returned his kiss eagerly, opening her legs a little more and gently and rhytmically sliding her damp curls against him.

Logan let out a half-moan, half-whimper and slid his mouth to where her neck met her shoulder. Another low whine accompanied his gentle bite. Marie snaked a hand between their bodies to guide him to her entrance. As he slid smoothly inside her, she winced a little at the pinch of pain that signaled the end of her virginity, but quickly relaxed her body and began moving slowly with and against his thrusts.

Logan propped himself up and pulled back to look at her while they made love. His eyes, dark and pained, seemed to be searching hers for something. She leaned up to capture his lips in a soft kiss, and he increased his pace. "Marie........"

Logan's arms gave out and he collapsed atop her again, his pace never wavering. He wanted to be enveloped in her body, in her touch. He wanted to be pressed against her and inside her, wanted her warmth and her comfort. As though she sensed that, she wound both arms and legs around him, and affixed her lips to Logan's cheek, letting them slide back and forth with his movements, trailing slick moisture along the way. Logan moved faster, more frantically, and, when Marie's tongue slid out to lick his face, he climaxed with an agonizing yet exquisitely pleasured groan.

Marie continued kissing, licking, and touching him. She hadn't found her own release, but her primary concern at the moment was Logan. He'd sunk into her body, panting, sweaty and spent, holding on to her for dear life. "Love you," she whispered again. That earned a moan of satisfaction all its own. "You know, I really like this touching thing." His body shook against hers with a chuckle, and he finally raised his head to look at her.

Logan awoke in the middle of the night, from a nightmare that was only half-begun when he stirred. He was lying on his side, facing the door, and at first, there was no sign of Marie. For a moment, a terrifying moment, he thought touching her had been some ridiculously pleasant hallucination, and that he was really in some cell or examination room again. But he soon registered the comforting sensation of lots of warm, soft, bare flesh pressed tightly to his back, and the touch of a small hand resting over his heart. In another moment, he felt her breath sweep over his shoulder-blade. He felt more comfortable than he could ever remember feeling before, more warm, more safe. Logan, who so often and so unhesitatingly protected others with his body and soul, for once, felt protected.

"Yeah," Logan admitted, covering her hand with his. She nuzzled his back and gave him a little lick, still not quite awake. Logan smiled at that - she has so much of me in her now, he mused. "Go back to sleep, huh?"

"I'm up now." Her thick, slow voice belied the words. "Besides, I want to be awake for all this touching." Another lick and a wiggle followed her words. Logan turned in her embrace, careful not to disturb her any more than necessary. Her brown eyes blinked open as he got situated. A smile played on her lips as he gently stroked her hair, twining her white locks around his fingers. "You know what? I think we should sleep in in the morning. Scott won't care if we don't show up for training."

"No. No more training ever. No more missions for you." Marie's eyes softened. Logan would've predicted a protest, but she'd been surprising him all night. This was serious, though; he wanted to be sure she knew he wasn't kidding. "I mean it, Marie. It's over. You coulda died."

"I didn't die," she whispered. "You were there to save me. But you're right. I don't want to go on anymore missions. I don't want you risking your life and getting hurt because of me ever again. But Logan, that means no more missions for you either. I'll just risk my life to help you, and then you'll end up risking your life for me and the whole life-endangerment cycle begins. If I'm not going, you're not going either. Deal?"

"Good." He kissed her forehead and tilted her mouth up to meet his. They kissed and this time, it was not needy, or frantic. It was simply sensual, pleasurable. He parted from her at length, leaving her with a hum of satisfaction. He tilted his forehead foreward to meet hers. "Hey, Marie?"