“Over there, there’s more over there!”  Scott led two of his teammates to the rear section of the now-bombed-out lab.  This seemed to be the worst one yet - more mutants, and for the first time, children. Scott prided himself on remaining collected during battle, but even he faltered momentarily when he came to the ‘pediatric’ ward of the lab.

He entered the back room quickly, making an initial assessment of the surroundings.  Lots of debris, not much else.  “Jean?”

“I sense a child and - and something odd.  I can’t quite - ”

“Where?”

“Under those beams, by the back wall.”  Jean began moving them telekinetically, and Scott soon saw a tattered remnant of a hospital gown peeking out from beneath the rubble.

“There!  Keep going, Jean!”  Moving toward the back of the room and deftly avoiding the beams Jean was levitating, he began clearing away rubble.  Soon, a mass of brown hair, mixed with some grey, emerged, then a shoulder, then the rest of her.  When Scott gingerly began to move his arms beneath her to lift her, he heard a distinct “grrr” sound.

That sound was shortly followed by a swipe at Scott by what appeared to be a disembodied claw.  A bone claw that had neatly sliced through his leather uniform.
Scott flinched back, then tried again.  This time, he was quick enough to grasp the attacker’s wrist, holding him in place as he cleared away even more rubble.  In short order, he’d exposed the child Jean had sensed - a feral-looking, snarling boy of about two years old.  Scott guessed the woman must have been his mother or perhaps his sister; the child was protecting her fiercely.

“Scott…….” Jean warned.  She couldn’t hold heavy objects for very long.  Scott grabbed the struggling, clawing child in one hand and hefted the woman over his shoulder then made a run for the exit.

“She’s had a recent pregnancy and she’s still lactating.  I don’t know how they did it with her skin the way it is - and I *still* have a hell of a headache from that - but they must have.  She has to be the mother.”  Jean and Hank conferred over their unconscious patient and her child, who was now seated resolutely beside her in the medical cot.  They’d tried separating the child from the woman, but it had made him frantic.  He screamed the entire time, thrashed and attacked anyone who came near.  He’d even managed to begin to claw through the walls of one room they’d tried to contain him in.  After he showed absolutely no signs of wearing himself out after almost fourteen hours, they tried putting him in a cot next to hers.  He calmed some, but kept climbing into her bed.  Eventually, seeing that the woman’s skin did not affect the boy, Jean tired of putting him back in his own bed and let him stay in the woman’s cot.  This way, at least he’d stopped screaming and seemed content, even if he still growled at anyone who approached and refused offers of food and milk.

“She seems so young.”

“I’d be surprised if she were eighteen.  It’s too bad they were able to destroy the records before we could get to them.”  Jean sighed.  “The child will have to be put up for adoption - she’s way too young to care for it properly.”

“Well, if she is eighteen, then she will have some say so in the matter.”

“I just can’t imagine wanting to keep a child you’d been forcibly impregnated with.”  Their patient breathed in and out once, very deeply.

“Jean - shhh,” Hank scolded as he gestured toward the child.

“Oh, he’s too young to understand, Hank.  Interesting kid, though.  Those claws - I’ve only ever seen claws like that - retractable - on Logan.  Of course, his weren’t natural……”

“Quite right.  I wonder how his search is progressing.  Any news?”

“No.  You know Logan and I don’t speak any more.” They’d had a short, tempestuous affair that had done considerable damage to her relationship with Scott. She’d ended it the day she found him in the back alley of a bar, having sex with what she assumed to be one of the establishment’s strippers.  Logan responded by high tailing it out of the mansion on another search for something of his past.

“I thought that perhaps the Professor had heard.”

“No, he didn’t say anything the last time I called.” Xavier was currently on an extended leave in Amsterdam, helping to negotiate an international mutants’ bill of rights.    He checked in occasionally, but for the most part, Scott was in charge of the school and the team.

“Well, you should probably head upstairs, then.  It is my shift.”  Hank gave Jean an encouraging pat on the shoulder and she made for the stairs.

Hank turned his attention to his patient and her child.  The boy was eyeing him intently, as though he was waiting for an attack of some sort.  Hank tried to smile a little to ameliorate his somewhat intimidating appearance.  “Would you like something to eat?” They’d tried several times with the boy, to no avail. He simply threw proffered food back at them.  “You must be hungry.”  Going almost a full day without nourishment - especially for a child that young - was very detrimental.  On the other hand, Hank did not want to traumatize the boy further by forcing him to eat something.

“Wan’ mama.”  Hank’s ears pricked up at that - those were the first words beyond growls that they boy had spoken.

“Is this your ‘mama’?”  The boy nodded slowly.  “She will be safe with us.  Would you like some milk?” Hank and Jean had attempted to bottle-feed him earlier.  What remained of that bottle after it’s airborne trip across the lab and collision with the far wall was in the fridge.  Hank went to retrieve it without waiting for the boy to answer.  When he turned back around, the child was busily tugging at his mother’s hospital gown.  Hank realized that he was trying to breast-feed.

“Try this, try the bottle - your mother is not conscious at the moment.”  She should regain consciousness soon.  Her injuries were not severe, but her health at the time they were inflicted was very poor.  “Try this bottle.”  He extended it to the child only to have it slapped away.  “Oh, my.”

“Mmmm…..”  The woman shifted, and she immediately caught Hank’s attention and the boy’s as well.  Her eyes fluttered open.

“Mama.”  The boy leaned over her face to get into her line of vision and she smiled at him.

“Sam……..”  She wound an arm around the boy, who began crying and laid his head on her shoulder.  Hank slowly approached her cot.  Needing to check her condition, but not wanting to alarm her with his appearance or upset the child, he decided on speaking to her before entering her line of sight.

“Hello.  I am - I am Dr. Henry McCoy.”  That got an immediate and forceful reaction from her.  She bolted upright in the bed, placing the boy behind her in one swift movement.  Her eyes fixed on Hank, and while she didn’t seem surprised by his appearance, she did regard him with a wary look.

“What happened?”

“You are in Westchester, New York.  We have rescued you from the laboratory facility where you were being kept.  We are - we are here to help you.”  The boy, Sam, seemingly contradicted Hank by choosing that moment to issue a growl.  “We mean you no harm.  We are - well, obviously I am, but we all are - mutants like yourself.  You are in no danger here.”

She slowly sunk back against the headboard of the cot, sliding Sam out from behind her as she did.  “So we’re not prisoners here, then?”

“No, of course not.”

“Really?”  She seemed hopeful and afraid all at once. Sam was repositioning himself so that he could breast feed.

“I assure you.  We - you were found in the back room of the facility, underneath quite a bit of the fallen building structure.  We put you on our plane and brought you here for medical care.  You have a mild concussion and some bruises, but you are otherwise fine.  Nothing is broken.  You are suffering from malnourishment, as is, ah, Sam, but to a far lesser degree.  You will be fine.  We are here to help you in any way that we can.”  She seemed to relax at that and then she turned her attention to Sam, who was tugging at her hospital gown again.  She let out an ‘oh’ and quickly shrugged a bruised shoulder out of the neck hole of her garment.  Seemingly oblivious to Hank, exposed one breast for the child, who immediately latched on to it.

“Easy, easy baby…….”  She stroked his hair and back for a while, then looked to Hank, who was discreetly gazing at the tiled floor.  “I don’t have - there’s probably not much milk.  Can you get me something to drink or eat?”

“Of - of course.”

Her eyes caught the bottle that had skittered across the floor.  “You tried bottle feeding him?”

“Yes.  He, ah, did not quite take to that.”  Hank moved to the lab fridge (the one not for experimental samples) and extracted a half-gallon of milk.  When he returned, he extended his hand holding the milk toward her while keeping his eyes on the floor.

“He’s been breastfeeding the whole time - I never let him bottle feed just in case they were trying to drug him or hurt him or something, and I only let him eat food if I said it was OK.  Could I please have a glass for the milk?”

“I shall get you one from the kitchen.  Along with some food.  I’ll be back momentarily.”

“Thanks - thank you.”  Hank nodded his assent and climbed the stairs.  “Come on, baby.  Come on, Sam. Time to switch sides.”  She exposed her other breast and shifted him over to it and began stroking his back to try to calm him.  He had to be starving, frantic, and she felt bad that she’s been out so long.  She let him feed until there was no more milk, then gently parted him from her and readjusted the hospital gown. “Sorry, baby, but that’s all there is.  You - I want you to try some food, OK?”

Sam hugged himself tightly to her.  “Mama.”

“Yes, baby, it’s all right.  Mama’s here.”  She heard the sounds of Hank returning from the kitchen.  He bore a large tray filled with a variety of food.

“Here you are.  I was not sure what you would like.” He set the tray on the bed, and it immediately caught Sam’s attention.  He looked to his mother, waiting for an OK to eat.  She nodded, and he set upon the peanut butter sandwich first.  “May I - we did not know your name.  May I ask what it is?”

“Marie,” she sighed as she slumped back against the headboard again.

“Pleased to meet you, Marie.”

“Thanks for helping us.”  She could tell that the blue, furry doctor was itching to ask her all kinds of questions about the lab - questions that would cause her to think about things she’d rather just forget ever happened.  She hoped her concise statement would deter him.

“You are quite welcome.”  Hank paused for a moment, thinking through what he wanted to say next.  Marie looked exhausted, and Hank knew that breastfeeding alone uses incredible amounts of energy, not to mention calories, both of which this girl had in very short supply.  He wanted to limit his questions, to help her to conserve her energy.  But he *was* curious.  “May I ask how old Sam is?”

Marie nodded.  “He’s eighteen months - no, wait - is it Tuesday?”

“Wednesday.”

“Oh.  Well, then yes, he’s eighteen months today. Could I ask you to pour me some of that milk?”

“Oh, of course.  How remiss of me.”  Marie quirked a smile at his good manners.  It had been a long time since she’d lived in the ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ world.  “Here you are.”

“Thanks.”  She drank the milk down in one long gulp, and Hank gently took the glass from her for a refill before she needed to ask again.  Sam was entirely occupied by the food on the tray, having finished the sandwich and moved on to some leftover pizza.  Marie drank the second glass a little more slowly.  “What was your name again?”

“Henry McCoy, but please feel free to call me Hank.” She smiled as she drank down more milk.  “Marie, how long had you been in captivity there?”

Her eyebrows drew together in thought.  “About four years, I think.”

“My stars…”

“Yeah.”  She shyly extended the glass for another refill.  Sam was finally slowing a little, having finished a good bit of the pizza.  He scooted back up the bed carrying the remnants of the last piece.

“Mama eat.”  He shoved the half-eaten pizza toward her mouth.  She bit on it and winked at him, then began to eat it.

“Marie - how old are you?”

“Eighteen,” she answered without hesitation.  Hank didn’t know whether to believe her or not, but didn’t want to push the issue now.

“We - we have a school here.  You may be interested in finishing high school.  I’m sure something could be arranged if you like.”

She shook her head no.  “I need to get a job to support us.”

“So, then - you are - you would like to keep Sam?”

She suddenly looked at him with sharp and undisguised hostility.  Hank marveled at how quickly her bearing had changed.  She looked a lot less young and fragile at the moment.  “Of course I am.  He’s my son.”

“Sorry.  Sorry.  It is just - in cases like yours, sometimes the mother has been forcibly impregnated and feels that - ”

“He’s my son,” Marie repeated.  “However - whatever way he was made to happen, he’s still my child.  What they did isn’t his fault.”

“Of course.”  Hank placated.  He was well aware that her entire mood had shifted.  Now, she was very much on guard with him, very wary.  Sam mirrored her change in mood, clinging to her and regarding Hank with a hard stare that no eighteen month old should know. After a few moments of silence, he decided to try to take a different tack.  “We, ah, noticed his bone claws.  And your skin.”

“Yeah.  Jean, right?  She’s - they stay in my head for a little while after.  I didn’t get too much of her - she let go right away.  Is she OK?”  Hank nodded. “Good.”

“Did the claws - was he genetically engineered that way?”

“I don’t think so.  They had, uh, sperm from another mutant that had them.  They were interested in making Sam - they thought he would turn out to be some kind of super mutant.”

“He does not seem to have inherited your skin.”  Marie nibbled on the last bits of the pizza but didn’t respond.  “He also seems larger, physically, than most eighteen month olds, and has very advanced motor skills for his age.”  Again, she remained silent.  “Do you know what his mutations are?”

“Yes,” she answered.  Sam let out a soft growl and she held him to her and soothed him a bit.

“But you do not wish to say?”  Hank tried to make sure that came out in a very understanding, sympathetic tone.

“No.”

“You can - you can trust us,” he ventured.

“I don’t know that yet.”

“I understand why you may - ”

“Have you ever been captured by them?  Ever spent time in a lab like that?”

“No, but - ”

“Then don’t tell me you understand.”  She wavered visibly as she said it, somehow making it come out in a firm, harsh tone anyway.  “I’m not giving Sam up. I’m his mother.”

“We only wish to help you.”

Her lips quirked into a wry smile.  “That’s what they used to say too.”

Logan came back to the mansion later that evening. He’d been more successful than usual this time, finding a burnt-out and long-abandoned lab that still had some paper files.  There was even one paper file that had pertained to him.  The only information in it was a set of blueprints that mapped the adamantium-reinforcement of his skeleton and a few notes on what he had been like before they got a hold of him.  While he was - well, not exactly pleased, but maybe satisfied - that he’d found something this time, it didn’t really tell him why or how they’d taken him in the first place, and those were the questions he most wanted answers to.

He was thinking about all he’d found when he wandered into the kitchen and found Jean seated at the table. She didn’t acknowledge his presence.  He decided to give being the bigger person a try and offered, “Hey, Jeannie.”  She shot him a dirty look and went back to ignoring him.  He opened the fridge and had just begun rummaging through when Hank bounded up the stairs carrying an empty tray.

“Logan - good to see you.  Any success this time?” Hank busily raided the cupboards, retrieving crackers and cookies.

“Yeah.  Found out a few things.”  Actually, Logan wanted to take some time to share the documents he’d found with Hank - a doctor would have a better insight to all the procedures performed on him, and Jean didn’t seem at all inclined to speak to him, let alone help him out.

“How’s our patient, Hank?  It’s almost time for my shift, isn’t it?”  Jean inquired coolly.

“Oh, Jean!  I have been so caught up that I forgot to update you.  She is awake.  Her name is Marie, and the boy is Sam.  She has not been too forthcoming about what happened or with any details about her or the boy.  I’m afraid I scared her off quite a bit when I inquired as to whether she would be keeping Sam.  She definitely wants to raise the boy.  They both seem alert and doing well - this food is for them - but she is still somewhat emotionally shell-shocked.   It is to be expected, of course.  I think - I think I may slowly be making up some of the ground I lost with her.  She seemed pleased to see me when she awoke and was much less hostile, as was the boy.   He didn’t even attempt to claw me at all this time.  You know, those bone appendages are quite sharp.”  Hank rubbed at his arm where Sam had gotten in a swipe or two.

“Wait.  What’d you say?”

“While you were gone, we raided a mutant experimentation lab, and rescued Marie and Sam.  They -”

“No - did you say bone claws?”

“Yes.  Why?”  Hank caught the stricken look on Logan’s face but didn’t understand it.

“How’d she have that baby?”

“Well, we believe she was inseminated with sperm from a fellow prisoner at the lab, although she won’t discuss the method of - ”

“Damn,” Logan exhaled softly, closing his eyes.

“Logan, what - what’s going on?”  Hank had asked the question, but Jean was looking at him intently as well.

“I found out - I found out some stuff this time.  I usedta have claws before they got a hold of me, but not metal.  Bone.”  Jean’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open at that.  Hank raised an eyebrow, but seemed more excited than shocked.  The definitive look of having put the pieces of a puzzle together had descended upon him.

“Logan - the child - he could very well be genetically yours.  He - we didn’t really pay attention before, but he heals when the bone claws retract.  We know his
mutation must have been forced to develop early.  And now that I think about it, there is a resemblance.  He has his mother’s eyes and mouth and coloring, but your facial structure is quite similar.  And the hair.  My stars, but that boy has unruly hair.”

“Can I - I wanna see ‘em.”  Logan took a step toward the stairs leading to the medlab before being halted by Hank’s restraining hand.

“I believe I should speak with her first.  She’s gone through more than a few shocks lately, and this will be another big one.  Allow me to broach the subject with her first.”  Logan just looked at Hank, so he, in turn, looked to Jean for support.

“Hank’s right,” she confirmed.  “Let him talk to her first.”  She took a sip of her coffee, finishing the cup.  “And Hank - at some point we need to talk to her about what she’s going to do now.  If she wants to keep the baby - well, I just don’t think that’s a good idea.”  Logan shot her a half-confused, half-pissed look, and Jean explained, “She’s a teenager - is she even eighteen, Hank?”

“She says so.”

“Well, whatever.  She’s very young to be caring for an infant and given her history, I can’t imagine she’s in great mental or physical shape to be undertaking that kind of burden.  We’re doing her a disservice if we don’t strongly encourage her to place the child for adoption.  There are mutant parents out there who could love it and provide a stable home.”

“She became quite agitated at the slightest insinuation that she may not want to keep the child. I do not think that it is appropriate to discuss this with her now, Jean.  Once she recovers a bit, perhaps, but not at the moment.”

“She’s your patient.  You’re the treating physician. It’s your call.  Do you want me to come down now, or wait until you come back up?”

“Why don’t I pick up this shift - they’re the only two patients, and she should be ready to move to a guest room soon.”

“Fine.  More time to spend with Scott.”  Jean shrugged, placed her coffee cup in the sink, and left.
 
“She is still angry with you,” Hank commented neutrally.

“You could tell, huh?”

Hank smirked a little at that.  “I’ll be back up momentarily.”

Logan paced in the kitchen while he waited for Hank to return.  Having a child was a possibility Logan had never really seriously considered.  He liked to kick ass and have a good time, not necessarily in that order.  Children were fairly incompatible with that kind of life.  He certainly would never have *chosen* to have children, he thought.  But there was something about the idea of having a son that appealed to him, something deep and primal.

He wasn’t kept waiting for very long.  Hank returned after a few minutes, explaining that the mother (What was her name, Logan wondered - oh yeah, Marie.) was eager to meet him.  Logan trailed down the stairs behind Hank, uncharacteristically nervous.  Once they rounded the corner and Logan saw Marie sitting up in bed, holding the child, he eased.  She looked normal, Logan thought.  Just like a nice, normal person. Young, to be sure, but she looked kind and the boy was obviously attached to her - he cuddled close to her, resting his head on her shoulder.  Logan could see why they might not have immediately thought the child was his - he favored his mother in most respects - but he also saw little resemblances to himself in the boy. The hair, definitely.  The nose and chin were Logan’s as well, along with his broad shoulders and broad back.

“Marie,” Hank introduced, “This is Logan.  Logan, this is Marie and Sam.”

She smiled a little and he noticed for the first time that she’d been looking him over just as he had her and the child.  “Pleased to meet you,” she replied. Logan struggled out an answering smile and moved closer to the bed.  Sam looked at him with wide eyes, but clung tightly to his mother.

“Nice to meetcha.  Does - does he talk?”

Marie nodded and kissed Sam’s head.  “Can you say hello to Logan?”

“Hewwo.”

Logan dissolved into a big smile at that.  “Hello.” Hank watched them all for a moment more, then quietly left them to get acquainted. “Uh, Hank talked to you?”

“Yeah.  He said he’d like to run some blood work, but that he was pretty sure you might be Sam’s biological father.”

“Yeah.”  Logan sat on the edge of the bed, holding Sam’s eyes all the while.  “I’m sorry ‘bout - well, ‘bout what happened to ya.”

Marie nodded.  “Can you tell me a little bit about yourself?  I’ve - I’ve always been curious about what Sam’s father was like.  He turned out to be such a good kid.”

Logan’s mind caught on to that - they were both really kids, he thought - but he answered, “Well, there’s not a lot to tell.  They had me in one of the labs ‘bout five years ago.  Dunno what they did, don’t really remember.  Got metal attached to my skeleton and metal claws, though.”

The girl smiled at that and looked down at her lap shyly.  “No, I meant, you know, about *you*.”

“Oh.”  Logan felt a flash of warmth rise in him and he wondered at it.  Affection - he thought - it’s affection for the kid and his mom.  “Well, I’m, uh, an x-man here.  You know, fightin’ the forces of evil and all.  They kinda took me in.  Before that I mostly just wandered around.  Usedta do some fightin’ - cage matches - in Canada.  That’s - that’s where I think I’m from.”

“Hear that, Sam?  You’re part Canadian.”  The child detached from her a little to get a better look at Logan when she spoke.

“I’ve been tryin’ to find out what happened to me, what I was like before, but I ain’t had a lotta luck.”

“Sorry.”  Sam was venturing out onto her lap now, inching closer to Logan.  “You know, I kind of pictured you looking like you do.  Big, strong.  He’s such a strong little guy.”

“What’s - Hank said you don’t wanna talk too much about stuff, but can you tell me somethin’ ‘bout him?”

Marie’s lips pressed together in thought and Sam stalled his progress momentarily.  “He’s my son.  I know that’s fairly obvious, but I - I really mean that.  He was - they made me pregnant with him because they saw him as some kind of super-mutant.  If he got my skin and your healing thing and strength and claws - well, I guess he would’ve been.  They saw him as some kind of thing, but he’s my son, our son.”  Logan nodded encouragement.  “He didn’t quite get my skin, anyway.  He’s - he can sense people’s thoughts and emotions when he touches them.  He doesn’t draw them in, hurt them, like I do.  In fact, I doubt very much that anyone but me can feel him doing it.  The doctors always seemed pretty oblivious, and I wasn’t going to go sharing that information.”

“Can I touch him?”  Sam had remained stalled, seemingly transfixed by Logan.

“Wait - wait for him to touch you.  He will.  Let him come to you.”  Logan nodded again.  “He’s - they hurt him sometimes.  I’m sorry - I - I couldn’t always stop them.  I really tried….”

“I’m sure you did, darlin’,” Logan answered softly. Marie gave a tight, appreciative smile while she fought back the tears.

“He heals really well, you know, physically.  But because he could feel what was going on inside of the people hurting him -- I just don’t know how that’s going to affect him emotionally.  I tried to give him a lot of good attention, a lot of love to compensate, but I know it still really hurt him.”  She took a deep breath before continuing.  “I’ve been trying to teach him words.  They, uh, didn’t like that too much, but he knows a few words.  They kept me alive to breast feed him and so that they could impregnate me again if he didn’t turn out like they wanted.  They must have, uh, more of your, um, stuff.”

“Bastards.”

“Yeah.  Sorry - I’m sure this is probably, you know, a big shock to you.  I’m glad you wanted to meet him, though.”  Her trembly lips worked themselves into a small smile, which Logan returned.  “I don’t know how much you want to be involved in his life, but even just meeting him - I wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance to see his dad, you know?”

“I dunno………..I’m - I don’t have any other kids or anythin’ and I never really thought about doin’ that.”  Sam resumed his movement toward Logan, taking another small scoot along Marie’s lap.  “But I wanna - I wanna take care of him, of the both of ya.  He’s my son, and you’re - well, you’re his mom.  We’ll figure it out.”
One more small scoot had Sam within reach.  Logan heeded Marie’s advice, though, and resisted the urge to reach out and pick the boy up.

“I - I appreciate that.  I, um, I don’t want to give Sam away or anything, and if you could - if you could help us a little bit, help take care of him, well, I’d really appreciate that.”  The tears that had been threatening all during the conversation fell now, but she was smiling a little too.  Sam reached out a tentative hand for Logan’s face.  Logan leaned in a little and his chubby fingers met Logan’s scruffy cheek.  Sam looked lost in concentration for a second, then he smiled and even let out a small giggle. Logan’s cheek moved beneath Sam’s fingers as he smiled in return.  Sam let go, sitting back on Marie’s lap contentedly.  “He likes you.”

Sam turned to face Marie.  “Who dat?”  She’d taught him only names to call her (mama) and the doctors (sir).  She pondered for a moment before answering.

“He’s your dad, Sam.”  The boy looked back to Logan. “Do you - would you want him to call you Logan or Dad?”

Logan felt a stab of panic at hearing the word ‘dad’ associated with him, but it was quickly erased when Sam turned his smile and warm gaze upon him.  “Dad, I guess.”

“He’s called dad,” Marie informed Sam.

“New?”

“That’s right, he’s new.  He’s dad.”  Sam scuttled back into her embrace, and Logan noticed that the boy maximized contact with her bare skin.  From what she’d said, the child was probably reading Marie’s emotions about ‘dad,’ trying to figure out what this all meant. Marie let him press his face against her neck and grab onto her shoulder beneath the hospital gown.  She smiled at Logan while Sam was still for a moment.

“Dada,” Sam finally pronounced.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed softly.

Hank performed the blood work that confirmed what everyone suspected.  Scott informed Logan that Marie and Sam were welcome to stay at the mansion for the foreseeable future.  Logan thought that the man was secretly relieved that he’d be too busy playing daddy to chase Jean, but thanked him anyway.  Scott, after recovering from his initial shock at that, managed a polite ‘you’re welcome.’  Logan relayed the news to Marie and asked her what she wanted to do.  He hadn’t given how to relate to her much thought, but he instinctually knew that after being a helpless prisoner at the lab for so long, what she needed now was control over her own life.  So, he asked her to stay instead of telling her to, and sought her advice on what the best living arrangement for all of them would be.

They ended up deciding on adjoining rooms.  Logan’s was situated at the far end of the mansion and that way, they would be afforded a little privacy.  Marie’s mutation presented somewhat of a dilemma in that arrangement, though.  Sam was safe from her skin, and craved sensing her through touch, but having her walk round with bared skin could be a threat to Logan. Hank, however, theorized that Logan might be immune as well, and suggested they experiment and find out.  At first, Marie was reluctant, fearing she’d hurt Logan, but she eventually consented.  As it turned out, Hank was right.  The fuzzy blue doctor just about imploded with scientific happiness at the proof that his theory was correct, but Marie seemed to accept the news with equanimity.  Logan couldn’t figure that one out - he thought she’d have been thrilled to be able to touch someone other than Sam, even if it was only him.

Marie and Sam didn’t have anything - clothes, shoes, nothing at all - so one of the first things Logan did was take them shopping.  He was never hurting for money - he fought on the side even when he was living in Westchester - and he encouraged her to get whatever she thought she and Sam needed.  She filled up two carts with all kinds of things for Sam - non-spill cups to help wean him, books, clothes, educational toys, a teddy bear, little silverware and plates, shoes, a special blanket just for him - everything she could think of.  It wasn’t until they had been down nearly every aisle in the store that Logan realized she hadn’t gotten anything for herself.

“Hey, we, uh, gotta get another cart.  You need clothes and shit.”

“No, I can borrow those from the second hand stock at the mansion, I’m fine.”  She’d dressed in borrowed jeans, a turtleneck, and gloves today.

“There’s gotta be somethin’ you want.”

“There’s not anything I really need to buy.  I don’t want to take advantage of you.  You’re doing a lot for Sam and I appreciate that.”  She’d said that often in the few days Logan had known them.

“Look, Marie - you - you took care of him for a long time on your own.  Lemme pay you back for that some.”

“He’s my son, of course I took care of him, Logan.” She ruffled Sam’s hair as he sat in the cart.  He’d been entranced by the sights, sounds, and smells of this little excursion.  He’d only ever known the lab. “Besides, I can take care of myself.  You just - if you can help me with Sam, that’s all I’m really worried about.  I just want to make sure he’s got enough and I can’t really provide much for him in the way of stuff right now.”

“OK.”  Logan sometimes felt like he walked on eggshells with her.  He didn’t know her well enough to anticipate her reactions, to try to decipher the hidden meanings in what she said, and for some reason, he desperately wanted not to upset her.  He ended up taking most things she said on face value and hoping for the best.  “If you change your mind, though, or think of somethin’, you just let me know.”  She only smiled in response.

The first few days passed quickly.  Marie, Sam, and Logan spent all their time together, playing and getting to know one another.  And while Logan was still a little freaked by being called ‘dada,’ he adjusted to this new life with remarkable ease.  He found that he enjoyed being around Sam, and Marie, for that matter.  The role of family man seemed to suit him better than anyone could’ve expected.  After a week, Logan had decided on a few things about how he wanted this all to work out, and one night after dinner, he decided to share those things with Marie.

“We, uh, need to talk, OK?”

“OK,” Marie agreed cautiously, while she scooted a toy truck across the floor to Sam.  The boy’s eyes lit up - he *really* liked having toys - and he began playing with it on his own.

Logan sat on the floor beside her.  “I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout a few things and I wanna see what you think.”

“OK.”  She shifted a little to face him directly and Logan could sense the anxiety coming off of her.

“Nothin’ bad, just - you know, some stuff I was thinkin’ ‘bout how this is gonna work.”   That didn’t seem to put her at ease much, so he continued, “What you were sayin’ ‘bout gettin’ a GED and gettin’ a job - well, I think, you know, if you wanna get the GED that’s great, but you don’t hafta work.  I can - I can cover all of what we need and Sam, he kinda needs ya close all the time right now.”  She just frowned, so he prompted, “What do you think?”

“I think that’s kind of unfair to you.  I think I don’t want to feel - don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to feel indebted to you.  I don’t want you to have that kind of leverage over me.”

“I ain’t gonna use leverage or nothin’.  I just think it’s a good idea.  It’s best for Sam to have you around all the time.”

“I - I don’t know.”  Her gaze drifted to Sam.

“Well, think about it, OK?  Just think about that one.  I was also thinkin’ that maybe we could just leave the connectin’ door open, make kinda a suite outta these two rooms.  I’d still, you know, respect your privacy and all, but it might be nice to have Sam be able to go back and forth, and it’d give us all more space.”

“OK.........”

“Look, Marie - I - I’ve never done this before and I don’t really know you, but I know you’re Sam’s mom and a good woman, OK?  I don’t mean to say somethin’ wrong or ask for things that make ya nervous.  Just - just say so if you don’t wanna do it.”

She ‘harrumphed’ at that, frustrated.  “I guess I’m just - I’m just a little unreasonably paranoid,” she finished with a tight smile.  “I’m afraid you’ll hurt me, or Sam - even though, even though you’ve given me absolutely no reason to believe that.  I mean, you’ve been really good to us so far.  You haven’t ever said I’m a bad mom because of what happened or even made me tell you my last name.  But the fear is still there anyway.  I know it’s because - ”  She drew in a sob, then a breath to steady herself.  “It’s because of what we’ve been through, I know that.  Plus, there’s the whole fact that you can touch me, which, frankly, kind of freaks me out.  I mean, I have no defenses against you if you *did* decide to hurt us.  None.  I don’t mean to be all weird and I definitely don’t mean to make you feel bad.  You’ve done so much for us, and I’m really grateful for that.  I don’t think - if you hadn’t wanted us to stay, I think they would’ve tried to make me give Sam up, and I just couldn’t take that, you know?   You’ve been really great, and I don’t want to offend you, but that’s - those are the thoughts in my head.”

Logan was actually encouraged that she’d said all of that.  It meant she at least was being straight with him and that she was opening up a little.  “I ain’t offended.  Believe me, it takes a helluva lot to offend me.  I just wantcha to know that you, uh, don’t need to be worried about me layin’ a hand on ya and that I think you’ve been a pretty good mom to Sam. From what I can tell, he loves ya a lot and he’s pretty happy even though he’s been through a lot.  You did good with him.”  Logan had thought those words would be right, would make her feel better, but now he saw tears forming in her eyes.  “If I said somethin’ wrong, just tell me.”

“No, no.  That was really nice, what you said.”  She was still crying, but smiling a little now too.  Logan had the urge to grab her to him, to hold her while she cried, but he reminded himself that he’d said he wouldn’t lay a hand on her.  Maybe he should ask.

“Do you want me to hug you or somethin’?  Shoulder to cry on?”  She smiled sadly and shook her head no. “Uh, OK then.”

“Sorry.  I just don’t - I don’t think I can make myself do that right now.  Sorry.”

“You don’t hafta apologize.  I just thought I’d offer. It’s OK.”  He tried to relax his facial muscles, to make an open expression.  “You, uh, just let me know if you change your mind.”  She nodded yes to that and wiped away the tears.  He gave her a few moments to collect herself before continuing.  “So, let’s start over, OK?  What do you think about the job thing?”

“I guess I do want to get the GED.  Maybe - let’s just - I’ll study for that and take the test and then we’ll see, OK?”

“OK.  Good.”  Logan finally relaxed a little himself. The thought that he was, for the first time, having to build a relationship with a woman not based on sex flashed through his mind.  He thought to himself - I’m actually doing OK with that so far.  “What about the door?”

“I was actually thinking about that too.”  She leaned forward a little as she spoke.  “It would be nice to have one big suite.  Your room - it’s a lot bigger, and it has a bathroom attached.  If - if you want to, I was thinking we could move both beds in there and make it kind of a community bedroom.”  That got a surprised look from Logan, so she clarified, “Separate beds.  Definitely separate beds, and maybe a screen in between for, you know, um, privacy.  But absolutely separate and in no way connected beds.”  He nodded, and she seemed satisfied that she’d gotten the ‘separate’ concept across.  “I just thought it might be nice for Sam and maybe after a while he’d want to sleep with you every now and then but still have me right there.  We could make your room the bedroom and the other room could be a playroom for Sam.  What - what do you think?”

In actuality, Logan wasn’t too sure a community bedroom was a great idea even if they had separate beds.  Marie - well, she didn’t even want to be hugged and she was just about as twitchy as a bunny rabbit around him.  Not that he’d try anything, but what happened if she accidentally saw him naked or something?  However, she was suggesting it, so he decided just to go with that.  “I think that’s a good idea.  We’ll put a coupla screens up for gettin’ dressed and all.  I wouldn’t mind it if Sam wantsta hop in with me.  As much as he wants is fine.”

“Good.”  She smiled a little and he did too.

“I had a coupla other things to discuss too.  One - I was thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ a TV for up here, but I didn’t know what you thought about that.  I was thinkin’ we could get it for educational shows and stuff for him.”

“If you want to.  That sounds good.  He could watch Sesame Street.”

“Yeah, stuff like that.  And maybe a hockey game or two.”  Marie winced at that.  “Sports are good for him.  I mean, I think sports won’t hurt him to watch.”

“Just - just no violent fights, OK?  Sam kind of freaks at the sight of blood.”  Logan frowned and had a strong urge to kick himself.  Of course she wouldn’t want the kid to watch bloody hockey fights.

“Yeah.  I, uh, wasn’t really thinkin’ about the fights there for a second.  Wasn’t thinkin’ ‘bout how that might affect him.”

“Maybe something a little less contact-sporty?  Maybe golf or something?”

“Golf’s borin’,” Logan shot out before he could stop himself.  He was about to scramble to clarify when Marie laughed.

“I guess you’re right.  Maybe baseball or football might be OK.  Football’s still a contact sport, but you don’t usually see, like, blood dripping onto the ice like you do in hockey.”  At that moment, just for a moment, she seemed wide open, and fairly happy, and Logan had never seen her quite like that.  It made him wonder what she’d have been like without government interference.

“Yeah.  The, ah, other thing was I was gonna offer to look after Sam for a while - you know, if you wanted to go out for an afternoon or just have some time to yourself.  I know you might not wanna, but I wasn’t sure, so I thought I’d offer.”

Marie nodded, and she seemed to close up again a little.  “I don’t think I can be without him just yet. But - but thanks.”

Logan nodded, then exhaled a sigh of relief at having gotten through all of it.  “Well, good.  I think - I think we talked it all out pretty good, Marie.  We’re gonna be able to do this thing, we’re gonna be able to raise him together.”

“Wan’ mama!” Sam interrupted.  That was his demand to be breastfed.  Marie was working on weaning him slowly, but he wasn’t quite there yet.

“OK, OK, Sam.  Let’s go.”  She picked him up, and with a smile and a nod to Logan, disappeared with him into her room.

“Marie?  You OK?”  Another nightmare.  After rearranging the rooms, Logan quickly found out that she had them just about every other night.  He always called out to be sure she was OK, and to ask if she needed anything.  She’d always said no, but she didn’t answer at all the first time he’d asked tonight, and that worried him.  “You need somethin’?”

“Dada!”  Sam called out and Logan was off the bed and around the wooden screens in an instant.  He saw Marie sitting up, crying uncontrollably, and Sam standing up behind her, not touching her.  Something about that caught Logan’s attention - Sam was always touching Marie, every chance he got.  “Sowwy.”

“Marie?”  Logan had no idea what Sam would be apologizing for and was beginning to be more than a little alarmed at the whole thing.

“Itttt’ssss O-O-KKKKK,” she wailed out.

“Marie, are you hurt?  Is somethin’ wrong?”

“Sowwy.  Sowwy mama.”  Sam rubbed her back, mimicking identically how Logan had seen Marie comfort Sam so many times.  And he still wasn’t touching her skin - he was rubbing her back over her nightgown.

Marie forced herself to inhale a few deep breaths. The tears slowed enough to permit her to talk a little.  “It’s OK, S-sam.”

“Sowwy.”

“No, n-no.  It’s OK.”  She grabbed the child into a hug, coming into liberal contact with his bare skin. “It’s OK.”

“Marie?”  Logan finally caught her attention and she frowned at him a little.  “What happened?”

“Bad dream,” she answered concisely.

“Why’s Sam - why’s Sam sayin’ he’s sorry?”

Marie took in a long shuddering breath.  “Because it was his bad dream.  Just like - just like he can draw feelings in, he can push them out.  It’s only ever happened with me, but sometimes I get - ”  A sharp sob took her by surprise and Logan sat down on the bed beside her.  He didn’t know what else to do, frankly, so he waited for her to gather herself and continue. “Sometimes I get his nightmares of things he’s seen done to me.  I just - I can see it like he saw it and I hate that.  I hate that he remembers those things, I hate it.”  She broke down in tears some more.

“Aw, darlin’, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry you went through all that.”

“Mama hoooowwd.”

“What Sam?”  Logan hadn’t yet perfected the ability to translate Sam’s baby talk.  Sam wound his arms more tightly around Marie.

“Mama hooooowwwd!”

Logan still didn’t understand.  “Uh….”

“He’s saying ‘mama hold.’  He - he’s telling you to hold me.”  She raised teary eyes to Logan’s and formed a watery half-smile.

“I will if you want me to,” he said cautiously.  Her lips trembled a lot, but she nodded yes.  Logan carefully moved over to gather both Marie and Sam into his arms.  “Marie - whatever - whatever bad stuff happened in that dream, it’s not ever gonna happen to ya again, OK?  You’re - you’re Sam’s mom and I’m gonna look out for you and him both.”  She was shaking awfully hard and he was just about to let her go when he felt one of her small hands on his back.

“O-O-K-K…….”  That came out in a pitiful sob, and Logan held her a little tighter.

“I mean it, darlin’.  I’m one helluva bad ass and ain’t nobody gonna mess with my family.  You’re my family too, ya know.  We got - we got this beautiful kid together.”  She cried a little louder at that, but Logan knew her well enough by now to know that it was just emotion coming out.  What he’d said hadn’t upset her.  “This - this is OK.  This isn’t gonna hurt you. Nobody’s gonna hurt you no more, and especially not me.  If you - if you ever wanna be held, you just say so.  I’m not gonna do nothin’ to hurt ya while I’m holdin’ ya.  Don’t you worry ‘bout that.”  She burrowed into him a little more and he held her tighter.

“Dada hooooowwd good.”  Marie chuckled a little at that and relaxed into Logan’s arms.

“I gotcha, kid.”  He didn’t know if he was saying that to Sam or Marie or both, but he knew it felt good to say, almost as good as holding them both did.

Marie and Logan sat on opposite ends of the couch and talked as Sam played with building blocks on the floor in front of them.  Sam’s second birthday was this weekend, and they were planning parties - one for the mansion at large, since Sam was by now kind of the official mascot of the x-men, and one for just the three of them, just the family.

“Hey, Marie -  uh, never mind.”

“What?”

“Nah, it’s nothin’.”

Marie’s eyes changed and her body leaned slightly away from Logan’s.  He heaved a sigh.  Building trust with Marie seemed like a never-ending and extremely delicate process.  Well, it’d be a hell of a lot harder if I wasn’t half-in-love with the girl, he thought to himself.  He’d realized it when she woke from a nightmare and for the first time asked him to come to her and hold her and Sam right away.  He did, of course, but he noticed some new things, things he’d somehow missed up to that point.  Like her scent - it was clean and sweet.  Even when she was upset there was an undertone of the purest scent he’d ever known in there.  Things like how soft she felt up against him and how warm.  Things like how beautiful those big brown eyes of hers were and how the platinum streaks in her hair somehow suited her.  Things like how soft and kissable her lips must be.  That night he caught himself fantasizing about her - not the usual scenes of back-alley couplings he envisioned, but scenes of all of them in bed together, one big happy family, scenes of him holding her and kissing her, gently making love to her, maybe even making another baby with her.  It was then that he caught on - he knew he was falling in love with her.  He’d always thought he’d be scared when it happened, that it would be just too good for him to stand, but he found that he wanted it, welcomed it.  He only hoped that Marie felt at least a little bit like that too.

There were times when he thought she did - when she’d ask him to hold her, when she didn’t get scared the first time he’d laid a gentle kiss on her forehead, when she’d gaze over at him as he held Sam in his arms.  But there were times when she seemed scared or overwhelmed too, and Logan didn’t want to push her into anything she wasn’t ready for.  He reminded himself that she still was a person who’d been through incredible trauma, that she still hadn’t trusted him with her last name, and that she was still a teenage girl at bottom, even if she was already a mother.  His visions of a settled family life - it might all be too much for her, too soon.

“Logan?”

“I was gonna ask you what it was like havin’ him, you know, what it was like when he came into the world, but then I realized that’d be a stupid thing to ask.”

Paradoxically, she eased at that.  “Oh.  It was - it was a little scary.  They, ah, didn’t give me drugs or really help me out too much in the delivery.  I don’t know - you know how moms always say how long they were in labor with their babies - I don’t know that, I didn’t have any way to keep track of the time.  I do know that he was a little over nine pounds when he was born - I heard one of the doctors say that.”

It was the first time she’d talked at all about anything that had happened to her in the lab, and Logan wondered what, exactly to do with that.  He settled on leaving an open path for her to talk more if she wanted to.  “Musta been hard for you.”

“I was scared.  Nobody knew - I was one of the first mutants they tried it with and nobody knew how the baby would turn out.  I got checked all the time by doctors, but they never told me anything.  I was just fifteen, you know, when they started trying to get me pregnant.  I’ve never even kissed a boy.”  Logan shifted toward her and opened his arms, letting her decide whether to move into them or not.  She pondered it for a few seconds, then scooted into his embrace and laid her head on his shoulder.  “After they were sure I was pregnant, it was kind of open season on me. You know, for the male guards, whoever wanted me. Once I was pregnant with the mutant they wanted, nobody had to worry about messing up the plan.  I mean, I couldn’t get *more* pregnant with the wrong kind of baby.  It just kept going after he was born too, not even a break that day, you know?  I bled so much sometimes - I must’ve hemorrhaged a half a dozen times from being raped.  They didn’t care.  As long as I was still alive and able to breast feed him, they didn’t care what they did to me, really.  After a while, after they were sure they wanted to keep him, I was safe again.  They decided to try to get me pregnant again, but for some reason, it just wasn’t taking.  I heard one of the doctors say the sperm samples had deteriorated.  I don’t know - they just seemed to keep on trying anyway.”

Logan was frozen with impotent rage.  He wanted desperately to lash out, to break or hurt something, anything, but he knew doing so wouldn’t punish the people who’d hurt Marie - it would only end up frightening her.  He tensed, but he held on to her. “I decided after that - after the last time I almost bled to death because some asshole guard couldn’t keep his hands off me - I decided then that I never wanted to be touched by anyone, ever again.  Even if they weren’t really touching me, not with their skin, I still never wanted to let anybody near enough to me to have the chance to make me scream and bleed while my baby watched it all.  Never, ever.”  She pronounced the last words solemnly, in a distant voice.  With those words, it dawned on Logan exactly how much she had opened to him, how much she had trusted him.  He suddenly saw the win-Marie’s-trust game in a whole new light.  He hadn’t realized just how  much she'd put at risk, how much she’d staked on it.

“But then, I found Sam’s dad.  I found you.  And you were - you could touch me, skin to skin, but you still didn’t hurt me.  You could’ve.  You could’ve even forced me to have another baby if you’d wanted, or tried to take Sam away from me.  You could’ve but you didn’t.  And so I changed my mind about ‘never, ever.’”  She burrowed into his embrace a little and sighed.

“Marie, I - ”

“I know.  I know you wouldn’t.  I know that now.  But I wasn’t so sure then.  Sometimes…….”

“Tell me, darlin’.”  She stayed quiet and Logan smelled tears but didn’t hear the sobs that usually accompanied them.  “It’s OK.  You’re safe now.  You’re safe with me.”

“Sometimes this way is scary too.  I want so much for you to be good to me, and you are.  It’s scary that way too.”

“That’s ‘cause - well, maybe it’s what you wanted but not what you were expectin’.”

“Yeah.  That’s it.  That’s pretty much exactly it.” Logan kissed the top of her head, very lightly and very gently.  “Sorry.  I - I didn’t mean to let all that out.”  She said it casually, though, not with regret.

“It’s OK.  If there’s anythin’ you ever wanna tell me, it’s OK.  I’ll hold ya while you get it out.”

She tilted her head up to look at him, and he saw that she had been crying quite a bit.  “Do you know how rare that is?  How rare and how incredibly good of you to do?”

“Honestly, darlin’, I can’t imagine anyone ever wantin’ to hurt ya.  Can’t imagine anyone not treatin’ you like you’re the best thing ever.”  Fresh tears fell at that and he leaned in to kiss them away without thinking.  He caught himself just millimeters away from her face.

“It’s OK,” she whispered, and he leaned in, giving gentle kisses along her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears.  He didn’t know how long he spent kissing her, but he felt Sam’s eyes on him eventually.

“Mama,” he pled forlornly.  He had the distinct look of being upset at not having been included in a prime cuddling opportunity.

Marie smiled, but didn’t remove herself from Logan’s embrace.  “Well, come on up here with us.”  She extended her hand to Sam, who scrambled up on top of her, wedging himself between his two parents.

“Nugooos.”  He meant ‘snuggles,’ which is what Marie called cuddling with him like this.

“Uh-huh,” she agreed, as Logan held them both.

Three months later, everything had changed.  On a sunny, quiet day, the Brotherhood had attacked the mansion.  Logan fought, but some of the attacking mutants reached Marie and Sam.  Marie was terrified, but determined to protect her child.  She took a savage beating from Sabretooth, but was in the process of using her skin to drain him when Logan finally fought his way back to their room.  He immediately ran three metal claws through Sabretooth’s skull and shook them, effectively making his brain into mush - something that the beast would’ve still healed from, had Marie not hung on until he was sure he was dead.

His powers healed her physical wounds but Logan knew immediately that new emotional ones had been inflicted.  Nonetheless, Marie reached out for him, embracing him even as he apologized for not getting to them in time.  She whispered that she understood. Sam, though, looked at his father with accusing eyes and said his first full sentence - “Dada no he’p us.” Marie picked him up, shushed him, and tried to soothe him, but Logan’s heart broke at his son’s words.  The  child was right - he’d been fighting alongside his teammates, responding as he’d been trained to do, not keeping close to Marie and Sam and protecting them as he’d promised.

He couldn’t sleep that night, not a wink, and he finally was about to head for the danger room, so that he could at least pummel imaginary enemies to make himself feel better, when Marie's soft voice stopped him.  “Logan?”

“Yeah, darlin’.  You need somethin’?”

“Yeah.”  She came out from behind the screens that still separated their community bedroom and went to him.  “I need held a little, OK?”

It wasn’t an unusual request.  She’d felt comfortable asking for that for a while now, even sometimes asking to be kissed a little.  Logan opened his arms to her, thinking that he could at least do this, he could at least give her comfort when he had failed to give her protection.

“You know, Logan, it’s not your fault that I got hurt. I know you were fighting with the team, trying to help out.”

“I wasn’t where I shoulda been, Marie.  I wasn’t with you and Sam.  I fucked up.”  He felt small hands begin moving up and down his back.

“I can’t say I don’t wish you would’ve been here.  We were scared.  But we know you were doing your best and it all turned out OK.  I didn’t even - not that much of him came over to my head because you clawed up his brain.  I’m OK, Logan, and so is Sam.  And - and now I’ve got his healing powers, his strength.  Those are good things.  Means I can do a better job next time, right?”

Logan drew apart from her abruptly, seizing her arms and holding her away from him.  “There ain’t gonna be a next time, Marie.  No way.  I’m gonna see to that.”

“I know.  I know you will,” she soothed.

“No.  I don’t mean ‘I’m gonna try’ or ‘I hope it never happens’ or any of that kinda bullshit.  I’m gonna make some changes in my life.  I’m gonna make *damn* sure there’s never a fuckin’ next time.”  He caught himself at the end of it, thinking he’d probably scared her with his angry tone and swearing, but she was just looking back at him evenly.

“What kind of changes?”

“I wanna move us outta here, quit the team.  It’s too damn dangerous.  I got a place up in Canada we can go. It’s remote, not a livin’ soul knows about it, and it’ll be safe.  I swear on my life, Marie, I will keep the both of you safe.  I swear it.”

“OK,” she answered, then embraced him again.

“OK?”  He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he’d expected, but a simple assent wasn’t it.

“Yeah.  OK.  It sounds OK to me.  If - if you’re sure you want to do that.  I mean, the team - ”

He separated her from him again, this time much more gently, and looked her in the eyes.  “The team ain’t my family.  You are.”  Her gaze softened at that and she leaned up to kiss him.  His lips met hers and he opened her mouth with his for the first time.  She leaned into him, letting him taste and touch her, then tentatively doing the same.  When he finally reluctantly parted from her, her lips were red and she was flushed.  He smelled a hint of desire on her for the first time.  “Baby,” he whispered, kissing her face and hair.

“If I could pick one person in the whole world to be able to touch like this, it would be you.”  That came out in a whisper as well.  It enflamed Logan, and his kisses became longer, firmer, more lingering.  Soon, he was devouring her mouth again with his own and she was beginning to moan.

It was Sam’s nightmare-induced whimpers that finally stopped them.  They both went to his side, and Marie gently shook him to wake him.  His eyes flew open and he lunged for Marie, crying in earnest already.  She flinched a little as his bare skin caught hers and she received the feelings and images from his nightmare. He’d been scared even more badly than she’d thought by Sabretooth’s attack.  It just served to remind him of the attacks she’d suffered and he’d witnessed back at the lab.  She let out a long sigh and held him close to her.

Logan sat next to them on the bed, very ill at ease. He wasn’t sure how Sam would react if he tried to comfort him.  Marie resolved his dilemma by casting him a backward glance and gesturing for him with her head.  He scooted over and embraced her from behind, causing Sam to peek his head up over Marie’s shoulder.
He gave Logan a scared, upset look for a long time.

“I’m sorry, Sam.  I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.  That’s not gonna happen no more.”

“Dada bad.”  Sam’s tiny arms clutched Marie in a tight grip.

“Sam - ”

“No, no, darlin’, he’s right.  I did bad.  Ain’t gonna do that again, Sam.  You’re gonna be my first priority from here on out.  You and your mom.  I promise that.”

“I he’p mama,” Sam refuted.

“I know you did, you’re a brave guy, Sam, but I’m gonna do a better job of helpin’ you both and takin’ good care of ya now.”

“Dunno……..”

“It’s OK.  It’s OK, I understand.  I’m gonna show you, though.  You won’t hafta take my word for it.  I’m gonna show you.”  Marie leaned back into him and he nuzzled her hair.  He’s just like me, Logan thought, protective of his own.  He realized then that it would take some time to put things back together with Sam.

Logan discreetly told Scott about his plans to quit the team and move away with Sam and Marie.  Scott listened to his explanation silently, and when he was finished, only asked whether Logan planned on marrying Marie.  Logan said he wasn't sure that was what Marie wanted right now, and that seemed to satisfy Scott. Jean, however, took the news considerably less well. When she caught Logan in the kitchen later that night, raiding the cupboards for snacks for their drive, she confronted him.

"What do you think you're doing, Logan?"

"Lookin' for graham crackers for Sam."  He smelled the tension and anger Jean was radiating, and he frankly wanted to avoid having this discussion altogether.  It wasn't just their past that was making things difficult.  For some reason, Jean had never quite liked Marie.  The reverse was also true, but Logan knew why - Jean let Marie know every chance she got that she still thought Sam would be better off put up for adoption.  Marie was scared to death that Jean would make that happen one day, even though Logan had promised there was nothing to worry about.

"I mean this - leaving the team.  What do you think you're doing?"

"I don't really wanna discuss it, Jeannie.  I gotta pack."

She moved closer to him.  "It's one thing, you know, to break up an engagement, then screw some stripper, but you're dealing with two children here, Logan."

"Look, I know you're still pissed 'bout what happened - "

"It might have helped, Logan, if you'd ever apologized for it."

Logan sighed and finally retrieved the graham cracker box.  "Whaddya want me to say here, Jeannie?  That I really loved you and I shouldnta banged that woman? We both know that ain't true."

"So - what?  You're in love with Marie now, is that it?  What are you, Logan, some kind of pedophile? She's barely eighteen, if that."

"Shut up," Logan growled.  "You don't know nothin' about it."  He turned to go, but Jean caught his arm.

"You're going to have to raise the both of them, you know that, don't you?  Is that what you really want? Does that fit in well with nailing the occasional stripper?"

"That's enough."  He removed her arm, not at all gently.

"I can tell you how it all ends up, Logan.  I can cut the suspense.  Here's how it's going to go.  She'll fawn and fuss over you like you're some kind of God until she catches you with your pants around your ankles one day, rutting like an animal with some other woman.  Then she'll look up at you with those big brown eyes, wondering why her hero couldn't live up to her expectations.  Because we both know that the truth is that you can't."

"You know what, Jeannie - you ever think that maybe it wasn't all me?  Maybe it wasn't all my fault that shit between us didn't work out?  You wanted to show Scott who's boss, wanted a little fling to put him in his place 'cause he can't go thinkin' he's got ya, can he? Always gotta keep him guessin'.  Coulda been me, coulda been anybody, as long as it was somebody who got under Scott's skin.  You ain't pissed 'cause I broke your heart, so quit actin' like I did.  You took a shot to your ego, that's all.  Same thing as far as Marie goes.  It ain't that you don't think I can be different.  It's that you're pissed you weren't the one that made me wanna do that.  Like I said, maybe there's a reason shit turned out like it did with you and me."

"Yeah, that's right, Logan, I'm the ice queen, that's why your dick ended up in a stripper's ass.  That was really all my fault."  She was as angry as he'd ever seen her.  He'd certainly never heard her talk that way.  "Well, let me tell you one last thing.  That little girl's probably been used and abused by dozens of men.  She's so damn traumatized that she'll probably never give you as much as a blow job.  She's - "

Logan grabbed her hard, by the shoulders, and brought her nose to nose with him.  He was growling and not bothering to hide it, and it broke Jean from her tirade enough to realize that she was quite probably in some real danger here.  That shocked her - as 'animal' as Logan could be, she'd always been sure he'd never cause her any actual harm.  "You got a nasty mouth on ya, Jeannie.  I'll give ya fair warnin' - I hear one more piece of shit comin' out of it, I'm gonna forget that I don't hit women."  He shoved her back away from him and stalked out of the kitchen crushing the box of graham crackers in one hand.

Jean collapsed into a chair and sobbed.  This wasn’t at all how she’d wanted her conversation with Logan to go.  She was so upset that she didn't notice that someone else was in the kitchen with her for a few minutes.  She finally picked her head up and glanced behind her to see Marie, holding a sleeping Sam in her arms.  There were tears in the girl's eyes, and Jean knew she'd heard at least a little of what was said. "I, uh, I'm - "

"I've never really liked you, you know."  Marie spoke softly, so as not to disturb Sam.  "You never thought I could take care of Sam and you judged me pretty harshly for what I'd been through.  You always made me feel like it was my fault, what happened to me.  You always made me feel tarnished, like trash, used."

"I never said - "

"You didn't have to.  And you've said enough tonight already."

Jean rose from the chair and reached a tentative hand out in Marie's direction.  "I'm sorry.  I never meant for you to hear those things.  I - I was angry."

Marie laughed, once.  "I wish I could excuse my behavior like that - you know, just say or do whatever I feel like when I'm mad or upset and if somebody gets hurt - oh, well, I was mad.  Shouldn't they just forgive me automatically because of that?  And aren't they really the awful ones if they don't?  I'm just not built that way, though."

"Marie, you have to understand that I - "

"I hope you never have to understand some of the things that I do, Jean.  I hope that you never know what it's like for someone else to force themselves into your body, to get off on causing you pain, hearing you scream and seeing you bleed.  I hope your kids never have to watch you get hurt.  As much as I don't like you ri