Fever Dreams

©2000 Chris (Teufelce@aol.com)

Genre: Character Study/Action/Romance

Sex Content: PG-13/R

Violence Content: PG-13/R

Language Content: PG-13/R

Characters: Wolverine/X-MEN Characters/original female character

Chapter 1

The wind howled through the trees, the sheer force of it driving into his face making it difficult to see the road ahead. The snowfall, which had gotten steadily worse over the past half hour, made steering the damn motorcycle even MORE difficult.... A small red neon sign up ahead glowed dimly through the veil of white that surrounded Logan as he struggled to keep the bike from skidding right off the narrow road. With a muffled curse that was drowned out by the wind, he managed to turn the bike into the lot in front of the tiny beaten up motel, without impaling himself on the huge pine that almost obscured it from the road. Not that it would really be a problem - just hurt like a son of a bitch...

Leaning the bike up against the side of the office, Logan yanked the door open and stepped in quickly out of the bitterly cold wind. The grizzly old man behind the desk looked up, surprised to have a guest come in out of what looked to be one hell of a storm. He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat at the sight of the angry scowl on the face of his decidedly unnerving guest and spoke up.

"What can I do you for?"

"Need a room..." The voice was low and reminded the old man of the sound of a wolf growling. A shiver ran down his spine and he found his hand moving of it's own volition towards the shotgun he kept under the desk. Those feral eyes locked on him and the deep voice rumbled again. "Now don't be doing anything stupid, old timer, I'm not here to cause any trouble. All I want is a room." The sudden ringing of the phone on the desk between them made them both jump. Feeling sheepish about his paranoia, the old man smiled.

"Sorry about that - we don't get too many visitors up this way during winter. Don't even know why I keep it open..." he explained, as his hand lifted the receiver from the cradle and brought it to his ear. "Hello, Fireside Motel, can I help you?" As Logan watched, the man's eyes widened as he turned to face him again, holding one hand over the mouthpiece.

"Um.... your name Logan?" Curious about the question, Logan nodded. The proprietor held the phone out to him. "Then this is for you. Professor somebody or other..." With a sigh, Logan took the phone and held it to his ear.

"What are you bothering me for NOW, Chuck?" Although his voice was gruff, he was laughing inside. Remembering what'd happened the LAST time the Professor had contacted him. Wanting to warn him that the police hadn't found any sign of Sabertooth's body after the fight atop the Statue of Liberty, the Professor had used Cerebro to speak directly into Logan's mind. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought about the reaction he might receive. Startled by the sudden voice inside his head, Logan had lost control of the motorcycle and skidded right off the road into a ditch. After the torrent of curses that had spewed out of his mouth, directed mainly at Xavier, the Professor had obviously learned his lesson...

"Logan, I have some information that I think you'll want to hear. Given your reaction the last time I spoke into your mind, getting you to stop at this motel was the only way to reach you."

"Damn right I don't want you in my head, cueball... Wait a second, you mean, all this? The snow? The wind?!" His voice was tightening in anger with every word, realizing that he'd been manipulated.

"Calm down, Logan. Storm acted under my instructions. What I need to tell you is very important and it was the only way." Closing his eyes and counting silently to ten, Logan swallowed the rage threatening to spill over inside and ALMOST succeeded in not growling into the phone.

"Spit it out then. I'm practically a popsicle from your girl Storm's 'actions', I'm tired, and I need a drink." Realizing that the proprietor was blatantly staring at him, Logan spoke again. "Hold on, Chuck. I don't want an audience." Putting the phone down on the desk, he leaned towards the old man.

"Isn't there something better you could be doing right now?" With a squeak, the proprietor nodded his head quickly.

"Yep, just gonna go get that room ready for you now..." He scurried off, leaving Logan alone in the office. With a tired sigh, he picked the phone back up.

"Alright, shoot."

"An old acquaintance of mine was recently up that way. Actually, not far from Alkali Lake. He passed along to me something he'd seen. Apparently, there's a woman who lives in the woods up there. The Native American population is convinced she's a manitou, a spirit of some kind. The locals think she's just some kind of crazy hermit."

"And just what the hell does this all have to do with ME, Professor?" Logan ground out, fighting to keep his growing annoyance out of his voice.

"I am getting to that, Logan," Xavier chuckled. Chastised, Logan muttered a short 'sorry'. "As I was saying, he said he had seen something he thought I might find interesting. Seems this woman, whomever she might be, was attacked recently. My acquaintance witnessed the tail end of it and swears he saw metal claws appear out of her hands."

As Xavier's words slowly sank in, Logan stared at the wall in numb shock. He wasn't the only one.... the bastards had done it to someone else..... someone who might still remember... All the rage, all the pain, all the hate that had been brewing inside him for the past 15 years boiled up and he was vaguely aware of the claws sliding out of his hand. Xavier's voice shouting from the phone brought him slowly back to reality.

"Logan? Logan, are you there? Logan, answer me!"

"Keep your shirt on, Chuck. I'm still here." But not alone. Not anymore.... As Xavier gave him directions to where the woman had been sighted, Logan grabbed a scrap of paper off the desk and quickly wrote them down. "So, you gonna have..." Even as the words left his lips, he could see the snow dying down outside to a light flurry.

"Already done, my friend." Xavier responded with a low chuckle.

"Dammit, cueball, you know how I feel when you read my mind!" Logan growled, amused in spite of himself.

"It wouldn't take a telepath to know what you're thinking, Logan. Are you going to head there now?" Eyeing the growing darkness outside and feeling the exhaustion deep in his bones, Logan stifled a curse.

"No. Think I'm gonna hole up here and head out in the morning..."

"Wise choice.... and Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope you find what you're looking for." The professor's voice was soft and kind, and his words made Logan feel uncomfortable. He owed this man alot. More than he could probably ever repay...

"Yeah. Thanks.... Charles." Before any more could be said, he hung up the phone. Standing in the empty office, he stared down at the adamantium claws that had been both the result and source of so much pain in his life. That had marked him as different, even from other mutants. But not anymore. Now there was someone out there just like him. And no matter what it took, he was going to find her....

Chapter 2

Logan lay awake well into the night. Just staring up at the ceiling... For once in the past 15 years, it wasn't the fear of what sleep would bring that kept him awake. It was the thought of what he'd heard from Xavier might mean. The possibilities....

Here was this woman, whom the Professor's 'acquaintance' claimed to have claws like his own. And that could mean only one thing in his mind - if she'd survive the hellish nightmare that had given HIM an adamantium skeleton, then she had to have the same power to heal herself. There was no other way. Without it, no amount of painkillers, no amount of antibiotics would have kept her alive. The extensive, repetitive surgeries required were simply impossible for someone without the ability to regenerate their own tissue.

She'd been 'attacked', Xavier had said.... by whom? And why? He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes, filing the questions away to the back of his mind for now. He wouldn't be able to even begin to find the answers to them until he reached his destination. Tomorrow...

Exhaustion finally won out and his eyes slid closed into sleep.

***

*FLASH* scalpels slowly descending...

*FLASH* horrific pain as drills bite into his bones...

*FLASH* through the corner of his terrified eyes, another figure submerged in an identical tub...

*FLASH* PAIN!!!! unbearable...

*FLASH* screaming... his own?

***

Logan came awake with a shuddering gasp, a scream dying on his lips as his body shot upright in the bed. With shaking hands, he wiped away the sweat that ran in rivulets from his forehead. Always the same damn nightmares.... As the last of sleep released it's hold on his brain, he stopped moving. Wait..not the same this time. There was someone else there.... Tired and with the adrenaline of fear still coursing through his veins, Logan shook his head angrily. *Get a grip, asshole.... it only changed once you'd heard about the woman... there IS no one else like you...* an insidious voice whispered inside of him. The same voice that had driven him to attempt to take his own life when he'd first woken up in that forest so many years ago, when he'd realized what had been done to him....

"Fuck off..." Logan muttered, sliding his legs over the side of the bed and making his way to the small bathroom that graced the pathetic dump of a room he'd found himself in. Turning the shower water on full, he stepped into the spray and let the hot water wash away the last of the sweat from his body. As his senses became more alert, freed finally from the lingering remains of the nightmare, he decided that he'd had enough of waiting. The two hours of sleep he'd managed before the dreams came again would just have to do - it was time to go find this woman and maybe answer some questions.

The black motorcycle roared into the tiny town of Crooked River at 2 in the morning. The only sign of life came from the light shining through the grimy windows of what appeared to be the only bar around. Needing somewhere to warm up after the frigid ride, and beer on top of that, Logan leaned the bike against the side of the building and headed for the door. Place actually reminded him alot of the dive where he'd first met Rogue.... Hope it turns out to be half as much fun, he laughed to himself as he pulled the metal door open.

For a bar, it was fairly typical. There were a number of beer-bellied, tough guy trucker types playing pool in the back, and not a woman to be seen. The smoke of several cigarettes filled the air, the smell of stale piss and vomit assaulted his heightened sense of smell and he had to take several shallow breaths before heading for a stool at the bar. The barkeep looked up from wiping glasses, gave Logan a bland look and asked, "What can I get you?"

"I'll have a beer." As the bartender put the Molson on the bar before him, Logan spoke again before he could move away. "Listen, I heard there's a woman living in the woods a short way from here - know anything about her?"

"You mean the mutie?" One of the drunken truckers who'd waddled up to the bar for a refill spoke up. Logan simply turned and stared at the man. Who was, unfortunately, too drunk to notice the rising anger on Logan's face. "Yeah, I know all about that freak - she marked up Marty good few nights back. Stupid bitch, all he wanted was a little kiss. And she goes all crazy on us - stabs him in the arm with these long ass freaking claws that just shot out of her hands. Man, damn mutants oughta be locked up somewhere...." Logan took a long swallow of his beer before slamming it back down on the bartop. Standing up, he turned to face the bigot.

"You know what I think?" he growled out between clenched teeth. After a moment to process the question, the other man spoke.

"What?"

"I think your momma should've kept her legs crossed...." Logan said it with a smile on his face, knowing full well the reaction he was provoking. But hell, he'd had just about enough talk like the kind this maggot was spewing and he was itching for some satisfaction. The drunk trucker's face turned beet red and his arm came up in a swing at Logan's jaw. Having seen it coming a mile away, it was easy for him to dodge the punch and stepped underneath to lay a swift punch of his own right upside the man's head. He dropped like a stone to the floor. His buddies, who'd been watching the exchange from the safety of the pool table started forward.

"Now, now," Logan laughed with a feral smile on his face. "You wouldn't wanna mess with another 'mutie' now would you?" With those words, he let the claws that had just been ITCHING to come out slide through his skin to their full length. Suddenly, the man on the floor's buddies weren't so eager. Stopped right in their tracks and just stared. Logan heard one of them whisper, "Shit, freak's just like her..." Tired of wasting his time with the likes of these assholes and confident that they wouldn't be following him, Logan slid the claws back in, slapped a few bills on the bar, thanked the shell-shocked bartender for the beer, and stepped back outside into the frigid wind. As he sat astride the bike, pulling on his gloves, he caught a glimpse of motion in the dark woods bordering the small town. A small lithe figure running away, disappearing into the shadows. A sweet feminine smell wafted to him on the wind and he knew he'd just glimpsed the woman he was after. He drew in a deep breath, imprinting the smell of her into every cell of his being. Now that he knew it, he'd find her again. And next time, he wouldn't let her run away.

Chapter 3

Knowing inside that pushing himself much further would be sheer stupidity and liable to make him miss something, Logan turned the bike back onto the road heading north out of town. For once, the freezing wind on his face didn't bother him. His mind was too alive with thoughts of what he'd glimpsed. Of who he'd glimpsed.... The moment he thought of her, her scent filled his senses like a perfume. Sweet, and yet, with a subtle warm spice undertone. Definitely one of the more pleasant smells he'd encountered. One he'd like to smell again... With a mental smack upside the head, Logan cut his internal reverie short.

"For chrissake, you haven't even SEEN her yet, asshole..." he laughed out loud. He was still chuckling under his breath when he finally saw another little motel off the side of the road. It was out in the middle of nowhere, set slightly back into the woods that lined the roadway, but it was still a driveable distance ot Crooked River. All in all, it would suit him just fine. He'd have his privacy, and still be able to look around. Make a few inquiries...

The man behind the counter wasn't nearly so jumpy as the proprietor of the last motel, and Logan was checked into his room with a minimum of fuss. The moment he was in the door, the leather jacket hit the floor, the denim landed on a chair, and he was face down on the bed. God, he was exhausted.... Just hoped that the nightmares let him sleep a little bit longer this time...

*FLASH* hands holding him down, struggling...

*FLASH* mask being pulled over his face, eyes wide open...

*FLASH* voice screaming : LOGAN!!!!!

*FLASH* being lowered into liquid, all sounds drowned out...

Logan shot upright in the bed, sheets tangled around him, his chest heaving and gasping for air. Without a conscious thought, the claws popped out into the mattress at either side of his trembling body. A voice.... there had been a voice this time.... a woman's voice... The unfamiliar sensation of tears trickling down his face brought him back to himself with a cold shock. The claws slid back in, and he brought up a numb hand to wipe them away. As he stared at the glistening drops on his fingertips, questions ran rampant through his mind. Who the hell was this woman?! And what exactly did she mean to him?! With an groan filled with too many long days and nights of not knowing a thing about his past, he threw himself back down on the bed and lay staring at the ceiling. Eyes wide open, he stared at the cracks in the plaster for hours.. until exhaustion claimed him again and his eyes slid shut into sleep. This time, undisturbed by nightmares of a past he couldn't even remember...

The weak sun of a late winter afternoon was filtering its way through the blinds when Logan finally rolled over and opened his eyes. Despite having slept only a few more uninterrupted hours, he felt more focused than he had in the past several days. After a breakfast of beef jerky washed down by instant coffee made with hot tap water, he was back on the motorcycle and headed for Crooked River at a wreckless pace. With the day's light rapidly vanishing, he wanted to at least reach the town before most of the locals holed up for the night. Last night alone had proven that the drunks at the bar weren't going to be much help....

As the bike sped along the barren highway, his thoughts drifted once more to the figure he'd seen darting between the trees. She'd move with a speed and lithe grace that alone would have marked her as something other than human. She'd seemed on the shorter side, but with nothing other than timber trees and pines to compare her to, he couldn't be certain of that. And although, like his other senses, his eyesight was excellent, the darkness had obscured her coloring. Hell, she coud've been brown, black, green or purple, for all he knew. All he was certain of was that the fleeing figure had been that of a woman. A woman with a very intriguing scent.... One that, upon recollection, arose instantly from memory to pervade his senses. With nothing more to do than keep an eye on the road, he let his mind wander and wrapped himself in the remembrance of it...

That is, until it became far too powerful and real for it to be just a figment of his imagination. With a snap, he came back to himself. Slowing the bike and tilting his head to the side, he inhaled deeply. Yep, there it was..... she was somewhere in the woods off to his left. The direction the wind was coming from.... And with that wind, came the sound of baying hounds. Hunting dogs... An instantaneous rush of adrenaline and rage shot through him as he realized exactly who was likely being hunted. Spinning the bike in a half circle that left skid marks on the tar, Logan acclerated and hit the side of the road, jumping clear over the incline that ran parallel to it. Almost losing his balance on the unbroken hardpacked snow, he had to fight to regain control before taking off into the woods in the direction the scent and baying was coming from. He got maybe fifty yards from the road, before the front wheel of the cycle bogged down in the softer snow and he had to abandon it to proceed on foot. At a dead run, adrenaline pumping, he could now smell the dogs, the heavy stink of sweat on the men (two? maybe three?) as he rapidly closed the gap. The scents weren't changing direction anymore, and they were getting stronger - the hounds must've brought their quarry to bay. Logan cursed under his breath as he drove himself to go even faster.

There. Up ahead, in a clearing... He came to an abrupt halt behind a large evergreen, as he caught sight of three men halfway encircling a large oak. One of them had two hounds on a lead, and the dogs were lunging and snarling at whatever stood before the men. As Logan eased silently up behind them, he caught a glimpse of a terrified woman, backed up against the tree, panicked eyes darting left and right. Amber eyes, like a wolf... One of the other two men laughed and tossed a branch at her. With a speed that made it almost a blur of motion, the woman brought up a hand tipped with three gleaming claws - claws exactly like his own - and sliced the branch in two before it could hit her. Rather than be frightened by this display of skill, it only made the men laugh harder. Logan could feel his anger rising to the point where his vision became tinged with red and a low growl began to rise from his chest. Twenty feet away... maybe... The man who'd thrown the branch nudged one of his buddies.

"Hey, think she could hit two at the same time?" This brought guffaws from his pals and they each reached down to pick up a branch. They had their arms back, prepared to throw, when a deep, angry voice broke the silence behind them.

"I know I could..." Two of the men whipped around to face Logan, as he stepped out from where he'd been crouching. The third man kept his eye on the small woman still pressed against the tree trunk. He had to give them credit, they weren't COMPLETELY stupid...

"What d'you think you're doing out here, mister?" The largest of the three men bit out, trying to put Logan on the defensive. Logan just smiled a slow, lethal smile, as he responded.

"Might ask the same of you." Obviously taken aback by the fact that the strange man facing all three of them wasn't the least intimidated, the big man brought up the shotgun he'd held at his side and pointed it directly at Logan's chest.

"I'd say, mind your own business, stranger." One gun... not bad odds.... yeah, it'd hurt like hell, but his body would heal it even as he was moving and he doubted the idiot would be able to reload for a second shot. Logan let out a low chuckle and all three men felt the hairs on the back of their necks rise. That's when the second man brought another shotgun to bear on him. OK, now that was NOT good... Out of the corner of his eye, Logan could see the dog handler backing away towards the edge of the clearing, pulling his dogs after him. Obviously not as ready to commit murder as his friends.. Another quick glance showed the woman still up against the tree. This time, though, he could see a slight change in her stance. She was preparing for something - he just didn't know what... Figuring that she was probably getting ready to bolt, Logan took a chance. Shot twice, he'd be out of it. But they'd leave him for dead and he'd eventually heal it. Important thing was, their focus would be on him, and not the woman. Give her a better chance at getting away... With a slight outwards motion of both arms, out came the claws.

"Holy shit, Marty!! He's just like her! A goddamn mutant!!" the smaller of the two men shouted, his gun starting to waver slightly. The big man hissed for him to shut up.

"Marty, huh?" Logan drawled sarcastically. "Still having trouble getting it up?" The instant he said it, Logan saw the other man's eyes narrow in rage and he knew what was coming. Still not enough time to prepare for it. Never was...

Excruciating pain blossomed across his chest as Marty pulled the trigger. A second later, the other gun went off and before Logan's body had even stopped reeling from the first shot, new pain exploded in his side. As he spit out a weak curse and felt his body falling backwards, Logan saw a blur of movement behind the other two men. The woman.... Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he saw no more....

Warmth radiating from his chest and side..... A spicy scent mixing with the copper smell of blood... Pain that was steadily diminishing... Much faster than it should be...

With a supreme effort, Logan managed to open his eyes. Crouching over him, with one hand over the wound in his chest and one over that in his side, was the mystery woman he'd been looking for. As his swimming vision fought to focus, he could see that she had her eyes tightly closed and her lips were clenched in pain. He continued to watch as her face seemed to draw in, the skin stretching over the high cheekbones. With sudden understanding, Logan knew what she was doing. She was healing him. Taking the pain into herself and using her own energies to heal his wounds. But at what cost to herself? Even as he thought it, she gave a low moan and pitched over backwards. He struggled to sit up on arms that felt like they had a serious case of pins and needles and pulled himself to her side. Her eyes had rolled up into her head and her breathing was shallow. The cost had apparently been high...

Feeling his own abilities finishing what she'd started, Logan climbed to his feet and looked around the clearing. The two men, Marty and his buddy, lay where they'd fallen. Both necks slashed wide open, their blood already congealing on the cold snow... Shaking his head at their stupidity, Logan bent down and managed to get his arms under the still weight of the woman. Straightening, he let her head loll against his chest as he slowly made his way back to the bike. Shoulder length black hair fell down across her pale beautiful face and Logan found himself staring down at her. Something there, stirring at the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite touch.... He shook his aching head to clear it and pushed onwards.

Driving a bike with dead weight in his lap was gonna be a bitch.....

Chapter 4

Tired as he was from the blood loss, it was all Logan could do to get the limp body balanced in front of him on the bike. Try as he might, though, her head kept sagging backwards, and there was no way for him to both hold on to her and steer at the same time. Pulling the thin body in closer to his chest, he slowly zipped the leather jacket closed around the both of them. It made things a little tight and constricted his movements, but at least she wouldn't fall off the damn bike.... And he certainly didn't have any complaints about the warm body pressed up against him...

For once keeping the bike well under the speed limit, Logan set a course south and west of Crooked River. He had no idea where he was heading, but one thing he did know was there was no going back to the motel. The third man, the one with the dogs, had apparently escaped and would no doubt be hollering to the police about the two 'muties' who'd brutally murdered his two buddies. Probably sell them some bullshit story about how they'd just been out hunting, innocently minding their own business, when they were attacked. Yeah, he could almost hear it in his head..... Luckily, he'd already strapped his rucksack down to the bike when he'd left the motel earlier that day. He'd learned the hard way in the past that, when moving, keep your stuff with you. No matter if you had every intention of coming back to the same place. Fate had a way of throwing obstacles in your way without warning. When moving around, best to be prepared to keep moving if necessary. The only thing he'd lost at the motel was sleep and the small weekly payment he'd put down on the room.

Logan hadn't traveled more than a mile down the road, when he felt the woman stir. Figuring that it'd be a wise idea to not be moving when she fully awoke, on the chance that she'd panic when she discovered herself zipped inside a strange man's jacket with him, Logan eased the bike to a stop on the side of the road. With fingers slightly numbed by the frigid air, he slowly unzipped the jacket. Just as he did it, the woman let out a groan, her head lolling backwards as she was freed from the confines of the jacket, and he had to put an arm around her to steady her. Her eyes drifted open and for a moment, for one crystal clear moment, she looked up at him with a contented smile that sent shockwaves through his heart. Then confusion filled those amber eyes and she began to struggle and push against his chest with both hands.

"Hey!" Logan said roughly, grabbing her by both shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. "Damn it, I'm not gonna hurt you!" Her eyes looked down at the hands gripping both her shoulders and she stopped struggling, looking up at him with doubt plain on her face. That bothered him. For some godforsaken reason, that really bothered him... "Of course," he growled out, "if I did let you go, you'd fall right off the bike and crack your head open on the pavement. That what you want?" Her eyes stared up at him for a long moment, before she finally answered.

"Who are you?" Her voice was rough and gravelly, as if those words were the first she'd spoken out loud in a very long time.

"Name's Logan," he answered, relunctantly removing his hands from her shoulders as she eased to an upright position before him. "And you?"

"Kiara. Why...." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Why did you help me back there? Why did you risk yourself?" Logan didn't know how to respond to the desperate need for an answer that he heard in her voice. Not in words... With a twist of his left forearm, out slid the claws. Holding them up in between them, he spoke softly.

"This is why." Eyes wide open, Kiara lifted a trembling hand to gently run her fingers along the length of one gleaming claw. Raising her other hand, she popped her own claws and rested them alongside his. Except for a slight difference in diameter and length, they were identical. Two sets of lethal razors that no mutation on earth was responsible for. In a voice that whispered so low that even he barely heard her, she asked the one question he'd been asking himself for the past 15 years.

"Why?"

"I don't know.... I was hoping maybe you might have some answers to that question..." Kiara simply shook her head. As the wind sent snow swirling about them again, Logan became acutely aware of the shivers running through her body where it still rested against his.

"Listen, there's time enough for questions later. We can't stay out here - you know of anywhere to hole up?" Her amber eyes looked into his again and she seemed to be wrestling with something. "I promise I won't hurt you..." he heard himself whispering. She nodded slowly.

"There, through the woods to the east - there's a cabin. It's where... it's where I live."

"The bike can make it there?" After a moment's thought, she nodded again.

"There's a well-worn deer run going through woods nearby. The snow should be packed down enough for your motorcycle to get through."

"Alright." Logan began to work his arms out of his leather jacket and Kiara pulled away from him, startled by the sudden movement. He raised an eyebrow. "Hey, if you're gonna be sitting behind me on the bike, directing me, don't you think you're gonna need something a little warmer than that sweater you're wearing?" She blushed and nodded sheepishly. Without another word, he handed her the jacket and she slid off the bike to put it on. It looked about three sizes too big for her, but Logan decided that he definitely liked the way it looked. The way it hung down to bunch around her waist.. With a swift mental kick, Logan shook his head and motioned for her to climb up behind him. He felt her weight settle down and then, after a long moment, her arms tentatively came up to wrap around his waist and she rested her head on his shoulder. Even with his denim jacket separating them, Logan felt a slow heat begin to rise up inside and he had to fight to keep his voice neutral when he spoke. "Direct me." She pointed to a clearing in the forest wall further down the road, and they were off.

The cabin was a small, barely furnished building set deep back in the woods. It had likely been originally used as a trapper's or hunter's lodge and didn't even boast the luxury of indoor plumbing. Instead, there was what Logan assumed was the outhouse sitting twenty feet back from the main building. The cabin itself had seen better days, but at least it stopped the wind and kept the bitter cold outside. It was a one room affair, with a platform bed set in an alcove to the side, a woodburning stove for both cooking and heat, and an old iron clawfooted bathtub in the far corner. As Kiara held the door open, Logan managed to roll the motorcycle inside, out of the building snow storm. Taking a long look around, he let out a snort. Now this was the kind of place he could feel comfortable in. None of that mahogany finishing and expensive vases like at Xavier's mansion. No, this was an unassuming place meant for simple living. He liked it. As Kiara stepped around him after barring the door, Logan caught the wiff of fresh blood.

"You bleeding?" Logan asked, surprised. Inside, away from the blowing wind, the scent was strong in his nostrils and he realized with a start that at some point she'd been wounded. And hadn't healed completely, the way he had. Sure, he was tired as all hell and felt like he'd been hit by a truck (which backed over him once more for good measure), but the wounds themselves were long closed, only a memory now. How the hell had he missed that she'd been hurt... Kiara answered in a hesitant tone, as she lit the fire in the stove and placed a kettle on it to boil.

"The big man, Marty, he managed to get a shot off before.... It hit me in the shoulder. My ability to heal myself isn't very.... fast. It's even slower when I've used it to heal something else." She looked up at him, embarrassed, and quickly corrected herself. "I mean, someone else... Sorry, but I've only ever used it on animals before." She looked down at her hands, as they nervously fidgeted with each other. Logan laughed out loud.

"Well, there's some people who might not consider me any better than an animal, so no offense taken." Her eyes lifted suddenly and bore into his with an intensity that surprised him.

"You are not an animal," she bit out angrily. The words.... the tone... they ran down Logan's spine like an icy finger. He'd heard them before... he was sure of it. Before he could say anything, Kiara shook her head abruptly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.... I don't..." As she stumbled over the words, Logan gave her a reassuring smile and shrugged his denim jacket off. Sitting down on one of the two chairs that bordered the small rickety table in the center of the cabin, he motioned for her to come closer.

"It's alright. But why don't we take a look at those wounds of yours and make sure there not more serious than you think?" After a long measuring gaze, she nodded. Taking a small bowl and a clean cloth down from a shelf, she filled the bowl with the steaming water from the stove and slowly came over to where Logan sat. He could smell her nervousness and fear in the air, and he tried his best to look as unthreatening as possible. With trembling hands, she put the cloth and bowl down on the table and then stood there, obviously uncertain how to proceed. "You'll have to take the leather jacket off, if you want me to be able to actually see the wounds," Logan said gently. Nodding silently, she slowly slipped her right arm out of the sleeve. When she went to do the same with the left, she winced in pain and stopped. Logan stood quickly and helped to ease the jacket off the rest of the way. As her shoulder came into view, he could clearly see the blood and torn flesh through the shredded wool of her sweater, and he had to bite back the growl of rage that threatened deep in his chest. He consoled himself with the thought that the fucker who'd done it was already lying cold and dead in the snow... If he was going to be able to effectively clean the wound though, the sweater was gonna have to go.

"You got something on under that thing?" he asked roughly, motioning with his hand at the sweater. Kiara looked up at him swiftly, and he could smell her fear increasing. "Damn it, it's not that - if I'm gonna clean it, I have to be able to reach it." Realizing that he was right, Kiara again nodded silently. She slid her right arm inside the oversized sweater and managed to slide it over her head and passed the wounded shoulder, to drop on the floor. Underneath, she was wearing a thin strap undershirt and the sight made Logan inhale sharply. Now is not the time, he told himself angrily, as he sat back down on the chair and pulled the other chair in front of him. "Sit." With a grace that almost covered her nervousness, Kiara swung a leg over the seat and sat with her back to him. As that warm, spicy scent again rose up to fill his nostrils, Logan had to fight the sudden urge to run a finger lightly over the smooth skin at the base of her neck. Instead, he clenched the cloth tightly in one hand and dipped it into the hot water. Letting it cool for a moment, he gently began to dab at the clotted and dried blood that surrounded the mess of her shoulder. As the surrounding area was cleaned up, and the wound itself became more visible, he sighed with relief. There were no bone shards sticking out, and the flesh itself seemed to be slowly knitting itself back together. A few more hours and she probably wouldn't even have a scar. No longer so concerned about the wound, Logan still couldn't quite bring himself to stop genty wiping away the remnants of blood from that skin..... His fingers accidentally brushed the line of her neck and he heard a low gasp. The scent of fear was gone now, replaced by something else... Something even more primal, that made the muscles in the small of his stomach tighten in response. Knowing that they were both desperately in need of sleep and that Kiara's shoulder still needed time to heal, it took every ounce of Logan's self-control to take his hand away and drop the cloth into the now pink water in the bowl.

"Finished," he said gruffly. Kiara stood and looked at him hesitantly. "Now get some sleep - you need it." With what looked like a faint, fleeting disappointment, she nodded and started to walk towards the bed in the alcove. Halfway there, she suddenly stopped and looked back at him with an awkward expression on her face. "It's alright - I've slept on floors before," Logan said, laughing slightly. "Got my jacket for a pillow - I'll be fine. See you in the morning."

With nothing but the sounds of the wind outside and the soft breaths of sleep from the alcove filling his ears, Logan lay awake a long time, staring at the ceiling. A very long time...

Chapter 5

The shrill scream that pierced the night air brought Logan up out of a dead sleep and left him standing in the middle of the room, wearing only the jeans he'd gone to sleep in, with his claws out and a snarl dying on his lips. As awareness came back in a rush, another strangled cry tore right through his soul and his eyes turned to the alcove. In the darkness, he could see Kiara's still sleeping form where it thrashed amidst the sheets. On bare feet, Logan padded silently across the wood floor towards her. Even with nothing more than the light of the moon shining in the single window, he could see where her short hair was plastered to her forehead with the sweat than ran in rivulets down her face. Her face twisted into a grimace of pain, her eyes clenched shut against whatever horrors ran rampant through her dreams... Bending down over her, Logan reached out his left hand and gently grasped her right shoulder. The moment his hand came into contact with her bare skin, he realized his mistake. Same mistake Rogue made...

Even knowing it was coming, the blinding speed with which Kiara moved was still too fast for even Logan to get out of the way. The claws of her left hand sank into his side with a sickening thud as she surged upwards out of the bed. "Oh fuck..." Logan bit out past the pain, as his legs gave and he sank to his knees beside the bed, tearing her claws out of his flesh in the process. Kiara stared down at the fresh blood on her claws - *his* blood - and then down at his bowed head. The claws retracted with a metallic snap, leaving only her bloodied hands.

"Oh god, Logan..." The anguish in her voice was more than he could bear and, even though it was almost too much effort to even breath past the agonizing pain in his side, Logan forced the words out.

"I'm... alright.... just... give me... a minute...." With each breath he forced, he could feel the tears in his lungs reparing themselves. Could feel the muscles knitting themselves together again... Raising his head up, he could see Kiara sitting on the bed, collapsed into herself, her body racked by uncontrollable sobs. Easing himself down into the space between Kiara's back and the wall of the alcove, Logan out a hand to gently stroke her back. "Hey, it's alright.... no permanent damage..." With a force that knocked him backwards into the wall, Kiara turned and buried her tearstreaked face in his chest. Feeling his heart tighten and still not fully comprehending why this stranger's pain should cut him so deeply, Logan wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly to him. "Shh.... shh....." he murmured into her hair as his hands continued to stroke her back. Gradually the sobbing eased and the maddening trickle of hot tears down his bare chest slowed and then stopped.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked softly, brushing the damp hair away from her face. A mute shake of her head was his only answer. So, they simply sat as they were, with Kiara's face still buried in Logan's chest and his hands stroking her hair and back. Even though the tears had long since passed, the air remained charged with emotion and he was becoming acutely aware of every single point where her bare flesh touched his. Kiara's began to trace absentminded circles through the soft hair on his chest and Logan felt his breath catch in his throat. Fighting desperately to maintain some control, he ground his teeth together. Don't be a dick, Logan. She's upset, she's just looking for a shoulder to lean on. Don't read into it. Do *not* read into it.... The electrifying sensation of a soft, hesitant kiss on the bare skin of his chest, just above his thudding heart, picked control up and threw it bodily out the window. Okay, *read* into it...

Trembling with the need to not rush this, Logan let his fingers trace lightly down the curve of her shoulder to her hip. The hesitancy of her kisses was lost, as she pressed her warm lips more firmly to his burning skin. The warm, spicy scent of her seemed almost overwhelming and he let his hand slip down to rest on her lower stomach, as his other hand rose to cup the back of her head as she bent over his chest. The flick of a wet tongue over his nipple tore a groan from his throat and the time for passive participation came to an abrupt end. No longer trembling fingers tilted her head back as his lips came down on hers. Her lips tasted both sweet and salty from the tears that had fallen what seemed like such a long time ago, and Logan could easily imagine himself spending the rest of his days kissing those tender lips... And then she parted her lips to him and the world dissolved into pure sensation. Joined in a familiar dance... the way she sucked his lower lip into her mouth... It was all *too* familiar... In sudden shock, Logan jerked away from her. Kiara stared up at him with eyes as wide as saucers. Those lips... those eyes.... he *knew* them. He knew *her*. He was sure of it.

"What's wrong, Logan?" she asked nervously, as he continued to stare down at her in dumbfounded surprise.

"You... you didn't feel that?" Damn it, even his voice was trembling now...

"Feel what?" Confusion was plain on her face now. She knew he wasn't simply talking about the pleasure of the kiss. No, the weight in his voice said he meant a lot more than that...

"I *know* you. I mean, we've kissed before.... Damn it, I know it!" Agitation and anger over not being able to remember more than that taste of familiarity were warring inside him now. Kiara shook her head rapidly in response.

"No, Logan. No, I don't know what you're talking about. You're just tired... we're both tired. I think we need to get some sleep now...." The words came out in a gush, and Logan's eyes narrowed. He could hear the belief she held in those words, but at the same time, he could sense subconscious denial inside her. Knowing that to push his point, to make her believe him, would only make her run, he dragged a frustrated hand over his face and sighed.

"Yeah, you're probably right..." Kiara smiled up at him in relief.

"You know... you don't have to go back to sleeping on the floor..." The invitation was there and he was glad of it. Even if she didn't feel that connection, that linked past, he wanted to be as close to her as he could get. After all, she was the first real, tangible piece of his own past that he'd come across in 15 years...

No more words were spoken as they both settled down into the sheets. Logan lay with his head on one arm, and the other arm around the now sleeping woman whose head was resting on his chest. Although he felt both frustrated and excited at the same time, sleep didn't take long to find him. He felt comfortable, like a part of him that had been missing had finally come home, and even fear of nightmares wasn't enough to keep him awake...

Chapter 6

The sound of soft sobbing..... the smell of salt tears heavy in the air.... the cold, empty space in the bed beside him.... All these came flooding into Logan's sleep fogged brain and he struggled into full consciousness. Eyes snapped open to take in the darkened room, scanning for the source of the sounds. There, by the window... Kiara stood looking out into the blizzard that continued to rage, her arms wrapped tightly about her still form. Logan pulled himself slowly upright, eyes locked on the back of her head.

"Another nightmare?" he asked softly, voice barely above a whisper, as he stood. A stifled sob and mute nod were her only replies. Wanting to comfort her, to remind her that she wasn't alone in her pain, Logan began to move across the floor towards her. It was only when a loose floorboard creaked under his bare feet that she finally turned to face him. The look of soul-shattering pain that filled her eyes, the weary horror on her face, caught Logan's heart in a vise and squeezed. He came to a grinding halt when she held up her hand, motioning him to stop.

"No..." she whispered. "No, I won't be able to say this if... if I can see your face...." A shiver of foreboding froze the blood in his veins and Logan nodded silently. Stood there. Waiting for her to continue... wishing desperately that she wouldn't...

"We *did* know one another, Logan... I don't remember how.. I don't remember *where* we met.... but tonight's dream brought back some memories..." Her voice faltered and stopped, as fresh sobs echoed through the silent cabin.

"What?" Logan's own voice was thick in his throat and it was all he could do to force the words past numb lips. In the darkness, he could see her chest expand as she took a deep breath before continuing.

"Before... before they cut me open - before they cut *us* open to put in these," a metallic pop and her claws gleamed in the moonlight, "they did something else to me...." The memory of a voice screaming his name in terror echoed through Logan's mind and he began to shake his head from side to side, eyes clenched shut against it.

"No..." he whispered out loud.

"Yes, Logan. They had to get rid of something first...." His spine went rigid under frozen muscles as images began to flood his awareness.... He could barely hear her words as wave after wave of memory slammed into him...

*FLASH* screaming....

*FLASH* men's voices...

*FLASH* "Get rid of it..."

*FLASH* "It'll only get in the way of the experiment..."

*FLASH* woman's voice screaming "Logan!! No!!!"

*FLASH* his own voice screaming, cursing...

*FLASH* body twisting futiley against the straps that held him down...

*FLASH* head twisted painfully to the side, trying, oh god, trying to see what they were doing..

*FLASH* a final shriek, then silence

*FLASH* a red medical waste bag passing his straining head at eye level...

*FLASH* the stillborn child curled up inside it...

"NOOOO!!!!!!!!" The scream tore from his throat to rend the air of the cabin. At some point, he'd fallen to the floor and, as Kiara approached him with her hands out, he violently backpedaled away from her. Pain, pain unlike any he'd ever known was ripping his mind to pieces and the red, feral rage was rapidly taking over... Had to get out.... had to get away..... With a final, barely human moan of denial, he was out the door and running through the trees. His mind too far gone to even register the bitter cold ice that cut at his bare feet, the branches that whipped his upper body until the blood ran in rivulets to freeze against his skin...

He lay in the snow, staring up at the night sky as the tears continued to fall. His child... *their* child.... torn out, murdered.... An unbidden memory of his hand resting on a swollen stomach, the wonder he'd felt at the vigorous kick that had made Kiara laugh.... "No.... no more... please..." Unable to stop the images from replaying on the backs of his eyelids, of the form inside the red bag being disposed of like so much medical waste, Logan flung an arm across his face. Willing the memories to go away... to leave him alone again...

"Logan..." His tormented mind took a moment to realize that Kiara's voice was not part of his imagination. It was real. She was real.... Eyes crazed with pain looked up to see her standing over him and a whimper slipped out despite himself. The expression fo such tenderness, such compassion, such love on her face broke his already battered heart. As he struggled to raise himself up, to run again, Kiara dropped to her knees in front of him. He stared in terror at her hands as they reached out to him, knowing that contact - physical, human contact - would make this all horribly real... Maybe reading it in his eyes, maybe seeing it in his posture, Kiara reached out quickly and pulled his stiff form to her. Enfolding him in warm arms... The last shred of his denial fell away and Logan collapsed into her shoulder, weeping like a child for a loss he'd blocked away for 15 long years....

Chapter 7

Finally, the tears ran dry and Logan simply lay in Kiara's arms. Shivering, and feeling torn apart inside in a way that his mutant abilities could never heal... He could feel Kiara shift and then gentle hands were pushing him upright. Her warm hands (so warm...) enfolded his and slowly drew him to his feet. It was all he could do to stand there in front of her, trembling still and staring into her eyes in mute pain. A sad smile crossed her face and she reached up to stroke his cheek. A low moan escaped his lips and he closed his eyes and leaned into the compassionate gesture. Then the hand was gone, his eyes opened and she was leading him slowly back along the path of destruction that he'd left in his flight through the forest. Broken branches littered the snow and, still wrapped so tightly inside his grieving mind, Kiara had to physically guide him around them. After what seemed like an eternity of stumbling and slipping in the icy snow, they finally reached the cabin.

Sitting Logan down on the bed and wrapping a blanket around his shivering body, Kiara silently fed logs into the stove until heat began to radiate through the interior of the cabin. Heat that still somehow failed to reach the frigid wasteland inside him... Numb with shock, Logan could only watch while she placed pot after snow-filled pot onto the stove to heat. As the melted water reached a boil, she emptied the pots into the tub, refilled them with snow and placed them back on the stove. She continued with this until the tub was finally full and steam rose above its edges. Then, and only then, did she turn back to Logan. Again, her gentle hands drew him upright and the blanket slipped from his shoulders. Led him to stand beside the tub.... Patient, soothing hands stripped him of his soaked jeans and urged him into it... As the hot water rose to cover sore, aching muscles, Logan let his eyes slide shut and his head fall to rest on the edge. The silence, though.... the silence weighed too heavily on him and he opened his mouth to speak. Needing to know...

"How.... Kiara, how can you be so calm..." A soft finger on his lips silenced him and he opened his eyes to see her kneeling beside him, a brief expression of loss fleeing across her face before it vanished into a tender smile.

"No, Logan. No questions now. No past... No future... Simply *now*. Here. This moment. Don't think of what happened, or what *will* happen. Simply *be*. Close your eyes..." The intensity of her voice cut through the ice around his soul and he obeyed, letting all thoughts drift away as he relaxed into the steaming water. He could hear Kiara get up and move away from the tub for a moment, before returning again. The sound of something being dipped into the water and then the sensation of a soft wet cloth dabbing away at the dried blood on his face... Logan's eyes flew open to find her once again leaning over the edge of the tub, a tender smile on her lips as she gently bathed away the evidence of his pain from his skin. The swirling steam brought her warm, spicy scent to his flared nostrils and he drank it in - wrapping it around him like a balm against the grief. In silence, he watched her face, as she slowly drew the cloth down the side of his neck and across one shoulder. Those eyes, those incredibly beautiful eyes.... God, how he had missed them... Kiara ran the cloth across his broad shoulder blade and towards the back of his neck. Unbidden, Logan bent his head forward, baring the sensitive skin to her attentions. Through the damp cloth, he could feel her strong fingers massaging the muscles there and he sighed into the sensation. The unfamiliar sensation of being the object of such care, such tenderness...

Another movement and Kiara was leaning further over the tub, as she reached behind him to wash the other shoulder. Bringing her own neck to hover close to the side of his face. Unable to resist, Logan turned his face into her and inhaled deeply. The soft sigh that escaped her was almost too low for even him to hear but catch it he did, and the muscles in his stomach tightened in response. The icy shroud of grief that had smothered him since the moment he'd remembered what was done, was rapidly thawing against the steady fire that was building inside. Finished with his shoulders, Kiara drew back and met halflidded eyes that continued to watch her in deceptive silence. She motioned for him to raise his arm out of the water and he slowly obeyed, resting it on the rim of the tub. Eyes still focused on her... With gentle strokes, Kiara drew the washcloth down the length of his arm and then back up to his bicep. Fingers massaged into the sculpted muscle and Logan let out a small groan. She didn't look up, but a small smile quirked her lips as she continued to wash away the dried blood that marred the now unblemished skin. With a slight, betraying tremble of her hand, she brought the cloth down onto his bare chest and the warm, spicy scent that was uniquely her became so strong in the air that Logan found it almost intoxicating. The wry grin that started to develop on his face died away as her motions became more prolonged, more deliberate. What had been gentle, efficient strokes now became slower, teasing... Until she stopped, her hand resting on his chest, and raised her eyes to meet his. The desire he saw there was unmistakeable and the air in Logan's lungs suddenly seemed harder to expel. Leaning forward slowly, he raised shaking hands to frame her face and she breathed in deeply at his touch, turning her face to plant a delicate kiss on the palm of one hand. With that one single kiss, all remnants of the numbing pain inside burned to ashes and blew away in the face of the hot wind of desire that swept through him.

With an intensity and tenderness that he had never thought himself capable of, Logan brought his lips down on hers. Eyes closed against the sensation of those soft, sweet lips that parted as he felt her body press into the side of the tub... His tongue ran gently across her lower lip and he could feel her moan into his mouth. Feeling more than slightly drunk on the taste of her, Logan slid his lips off hers and gently kissed a path down her jaw to her neck, pausing a moment to nuzzle into the hair behind her ear. A low gasp and fingers running through his hair drove him onwards. With light, feathery kisses, he made his way down the line of her neck to her collarbone, where he sucked and nibbled at her skin. Another groan, louder this time, and Kiara arched her head back as she submitted to him. Across her collarbone to the hollow of her neck and then back up to her mouth, which met his in a passion that demanded more. Those same soft, sweet lips slid off his jaw and kissed their way down the column of his neck, and Logan groaned aloud as she made her way back up to the sensitive spot just behind his ear. When her tongue reached out and sucked his earlobe into her mouth, Logan rose up out of the bath with a roar, taking her with him to the floor. Hesitancy was lost as his wet body covered hers, his mouth kissing a fiery path down her neck to the collar of the shirt she still wore. Logan stopped and looked up, only to see her staring back at him. One eyebrow raised in question... and she nodded.

"Off..." Her voice was sudden and harsh in the silence of the cabin, but it sent a thrill down Logan's spine to hear her breath catch in her throat, as his warm hands reached up to slide the offending shirt over her head. Looking down at her, as she lay there before him, wearing only her underwear, Logan felt his heart swell with emotions he'd long since given up on. Wanting to share with her what she was doing to him and unable to find the words, he bent down and placed a tender kiss on her lips. Her hands tangled in his hair as he continued to kiss his way down to her breasts, taking one into his mouth as rough hands rose to caress the other. Kiara's back arched underneath him and the long, drawn out moan that escaped her lips almost drove him out of control. Hanging on with all his will, he continued down her lean abdomen until his kisses reached the line of her panties. Her breath was coming faster now and, never one to take the long way around, Logan slid one claw out and cut them from her body in a single movement. Dipping his head again, his tongue flicked out to taste her and she cried out, fingers tightening in his hair, as she writhed beneath him.

"Logan.... please..." Hearing the desperate plea in her voice and knowing his own self-control was hanging by a thread, Logan drew himself back up her body until he lay looking down into her eyes, his hands cradling her face.

"Is this what you want?" Every part of him, from his heightened senses to the depths of his soul knew it was, but he still had to ask.

"Oh God, yes... please..." With her answer, restraint disappeared and he slid inside her. Bowing his head, he kissed feverishly at her neck as they joined together in a rhythm as old as time. Until all pain, all anguish disappeared into the blinding waves of pleasure that crashed over both of them and finally left them lying still on the hard floor. Entwined and filled with a contentment that neither had felt for a very long time...

Chapter 8

Time seemed to stand still inside the silent cabin - the only sign of its passing, the steady march of moonlight across the bare wooden floor. Kiara lay on her back, eyes closed, with her head resting on Logan's outstretched arm and her hands resting on the other arm that sprawled possessively across her stomach. Her breathing had long since deepened into sleep, but Logan fought against his growing exhaustion with everything inside him. His heart ached with the feelings and emotions so familiar, and yet so agonizingly foreign, that flooded him. The feeling of finally having come home, of finding a part of him he hadn't even realized was missing.... it brought such intense, overwhelming love rushing into every cell at just the thought of her. But with it also came renewed pain... pain at the knowledge that they had shared a life together and he couldn't remember it... Couldn't recall what made her smile, what made her laugh... coudn't even remember how they had met. And it tore away at his insides... filled him with what he damn well knew to be senseless guilt. Guilt at his inability to remember anything substantial about the woman who, with a touch and a kiss, had made him feel more alive than he ever had in fifteen long years. And he was loathe to miss even one second more. So instead, he lay quietly, struggling to keep heavy eyelids from sliding shut, and nestled his face in her soft hair. Memorizing everything that he could - the feel of her warm body pressed against him, the way her lips moved as she slept (wonder what she's dreaming this time...), the gentle sound of her breathing... All of it. All that he could...

Finally, the press of the cold floor into his hip and shoulder brought the reluctant realization that remaining on the floor would be one hell of an uncomfortable way to spend the rest of the night. With a barely audible sigh, Logan forced himself upright, pulling Kiara in tightly against his chest as he rose. She stirred once, whispering his name, and his heart tightened at the sound of it, even as she drifted back into sleep. Making his way silently across the cabin to the tiny alcove, he set her down on the bed and slid in beside her, pulling the blankets up to cover them both. As she nestled into him and sleep became impossible to fight any longer, he wrapped an arm around her and whispered a soft "love you.." into her ear before letting his eyes close into deep, undisturbed sleep...

The tantalizing aroma of frying bacon and eggs brought Logan up out of his slumber with a twitch of the nostril and a groggy smile on his face. When his stomach let out what seemd to be (to him at least) a defeaning growl of hunger, he winced in embarrassment. Which only worsened when the stifled giggle from the stove let him know that Kiara had heard it.

"Hey, I haven't eaten in at least a day," he grumbled as he stood and struggled to pull on the jeans that had been left on the floor, the cool air of the cabin lending a definite degree of urgency to his task. Looking up to catch Kiara frozen in the process of turning the eggs, eyes riveted on him, he raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Besides, I need to recharge after last night..." Kiara's face turned a lovely shade of pink, as she whirled back to face the stove. He almost laughed out loud, until the scent of her fear and uncertainty finally reached him across the room. The grin on his face died as he moved rapidly to close the space between them, coming to a halt to stand directly behind her. Inches separating them...

"Hey.." he said quietly, wanting to reach out and wrap his arms around her, comfort her, but suddenly feeling uncertain in the light of day.

"Yes?" Her voice was strangled and it didn't take superhuman senses to hear the unshed tears in that one word. A firm hand on her shoulder turned her to face him, but she kept her eyes focused on a spot somewhere beyond his left shoulder. Those warm amber eyes were now guarded, filled with emotions he couldn't put names too, but the sharp scent of her fear and uncertainty cut at him. Putting a hand under her chin, he gently forced her eyes to meet his. To see the sincerity in them as he spoke.

"What's wrong?" Hesitation on her face...

"I don't know what I feel... Last night... I needed you in a way that I have never needed anyone for as long as I can remember, not since... since the experiment. I feel you inside my heart, as if you've always belonged there, and yet I don't know a single thing about you. No more than a name... no more than a feeling inside... no more than a nightmare that hints at so much more... I don't know what it all means, or where I stand... and it frightens me." Her admission seemed to break down something inside her, and a single tear stole its way passed eyes suddenly clenched shut. Logan lifted a trembling finger to brush away the dampness and then cradled her cheek in his hand.

"I don't know either... All I do know is that we belong. We *fit*. It may take time to piece it all back together, but it's time that I'm more than willing to spend..." Kiara opened her eyes at the catch in his voice. Amber eyes met emerald eyes in silence, in shared communion of the realization that neither was alone in their uncertainties. In the realization that neither was alone, period. Not any more. The acrid smell of burning meat brought Logan back to himself and a glimmer to his eye as he smiled.

"I hope you have some more of that, because I'm starving.... and it's burning..." With a startled curse, Kiara turned back to the smoking pan. With a rueful laugh, she scraped the now charred bacon from the metal and placed it back on the stove.

"You're in luck - trader bartered some extra bacon and fresh eggs for some rabbit pelts a few days ago. Otherwise..."

"Otherwise?"

"Otherwise you'd have to hunt yourself some breakfast, since all I have besides those is some canned vegetables..." Her eyes twinkled when she looked over at him, placing fresh strips of bacon into the hot pan. He laughed and shook his head, sitting down in the chair nearest the stove.

"Well then, thank god for luck," he laughed again, even as his stomach let out another demanding growl. "Cause I don't think I could survive that long..." With both voices joined in laughter, the tension drained away from the room and was replaced by a warm contentment. Kiara went back to frying breakfast on the stove and Logan simply sat and watched her. Drank in the sight of her until it felt as if his soul couldn't possibly hold any more. And then she'd smile softly to herself, and he knew without a doubt that it could. So he sat and watched. And she didn't seem to mind...

Chapter 9

Once breakfast was ready, they sat across from one another at the small table. Even as he struggled not to wolf the food down, to maintain some semblance of etiquette, Logan kept his eyes on Kiara...

"Stop staring at me..." Kiara said quietly, pushing the eggs around on her plate with a fork.

"Can't help it - you're beautiful." She blushed and ducked her head. Logan had to stifle a laugh. "Even more beautiful when you're blushing..." The color on Kiara's cheeks deepened and she let out a giggle.

"Are you always so forward?" She smiled, lifting a forkful of egg to her mouth.

"Only when I see something I want." Kiara made a choking noise and Logan was halfway out of his chair before a hand waved at him frantically to sit back down. She wiped tears away from rosy cheeks and took a sip of coffee before she spoke.

"You're terrible.." she giggled. Logan raised a single eyebrow in response.

"Was I?" The innuendo behind his words silenced Kiara's giggles, and she stared back at him from eyes darkened with remembered passion. Then she shook her head and her soft laugh sent a warm tingle down Logan's spine.

"If you keep this up, I am never going to finish my breakfast!"

"Spoilsport...." Logan let out a mock sigh of disappointment, then raised an eyebrow again. "Well, there's always AFTER breakfast..."

"Logan!!" The blush on Kiara's face was bright crimson and Logan felt a sharp primitive satisfaction that *he* was the one responsible for putting it there. And the mischievous twinkle in her eyes belied the shocked tone of her voice. Smiling smugly, Logan sat back and sipped at his coffee, watching in silence as Kiara finished her breakfast.

When her plate was finally cleared, he spoke again. More seriously this time.

"What were you dreaming last night?" She gave a small start at his words and looked up at him surprised.

"How do you know I was dreaming?"

"Your lips move in your sleep..." Another blush...

"It wasn't the same as the nightmares...." She began hesistantly.

"I figured as much when you didn't wake up screaming," Logan said softly, the memory of her terror-stricken face when she'd awoken the previous night twisting his stomach into knots.

"I remember... a man... a man wearing a uniform... and he was talking to me...." The air in the cabin suddenly seemed thick and impossible to breath, as Logan felt a sudden rush of rage.

"What did he say?" The words were carefully controlled, but something in his tone made Kiara look sharply at him before continuing.

"I don't remember... He was standing at the door... and then someone put something over my face and it all just went black...."

"The door?"

"It... It was a house, I think... My house..." She stopped and looked at him again, her eyes filled with an immeasurable sadness. "Our house..." Logan's throat tightened at her words. Their house.... He closed his eyes and struggled. Struggled with all that was him to bring up some memory of the place she spoke of. But there was nothing. All still locked away somewhere in his battered psyche... Eyes snapped open to focus again on Kiara's concerned face.

"The words, Kiara... Try to remember the words..." She nodded silently, and closed her eyes. Logan watched as her forehead wrinkled in concentration, as her hands clenched and unclenched on the table top. Finally, she let out a shaky sigh, and brought a trembling hand up to rub at her face.

"I can't. I can't remember what he said... what *I* said...." She paused then, and looked at Logan. *Really* looked at him... "It was about you, I think... All I can remember is his face..." Logan stopped breathing as the words left her mouth. The beginnings of a plan began to claw its way out of the darkness of his mind.

"His face? You can remember his face?" The words were bitten out, devoid of emotion, and Kiara nodded slowly, eyes wide as she stared back at him.

"You able to draw it?"

"I can't draw, Logan," her voice was low, unsure.

"Damn it..." he hissed between teeth clenched in anger and frustration. Seeing fear at the violence of his reaction blossom on Kiara's face, Logan brought the rage back under control, rolling his head to the side to release the incredible tension in his neck muscles. "Well then, there's nothing else to do but go back."

"Go back where? And why?"

"To Xavier's school. He'll be able to get inside your memories and then maybe he can transfer them to someone who can give us a sketch. Something to ID him off of..." His mind was working furiously now, with the sudden possibility that he might be able to finally track down at least one person who was responsible for taking his life away. For ruining *their* lives...

"Who is Xavier?" The fear and apprehension in Kiara's voice brought Logan back to himself with a jolt.

"He's a mutant, like us. He helped me out not too long ago. He's a professor and he runs a school for mutant children, gives them a place to stay, teaches them to control their powers. He has this..." Logan winced with embarrassment. "He has this team, the X-Men. Basically make sure the 'bad' mutants don't ruin it for the rest of us. Xavier's the one who.... who helped me find you." Kiara nodded her understanding, but he could still see the fear plain on her face.

"Where is this school exactly?"

"It's in Westchester, New York. The United States..." He said the words slowly, watching carefully for her reaction. Eyes wide, she stood up abruptly from her chair.

"But that's.... that's so far away! I can't.... I can't just leave here..." Logan stood quickly and began to move towards her, around the table, but she backed away and held out a hand to stop him.

"Kiara... it's okay. You don't have to be afraid..." Soft words. Comforting words. The panic in her eyes tore at him...

"Logan, I don't know these people... How am I suppose to trust them? To go all that way away from here, to let someone into my mind? Into my memories?!" Her voice was rising as she spoke, and he had to fight not to reach out to her.

"Kiara, you *can* trust them. They're good people. They'll help us, I know they will. You can trust them, Kiara. You can trust *me*..." Her expression softened a little at his words and he continued. "Come on, Kiara, I won't let anyone hurt you again... I promise..." The tension drained away from her body and she looked back at him with only a trace of apprehension on her face.

"Alright, Logan. I... I trust you..." she said, taking a deep breath. "So, when do we leave?" He could feel the smile spread across his face, as he closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'd like to leave as soon as you can pack, while there's still plenty of daylight," he whispered into her hair. He felt her body shake and heard a chuckle escape her lips.

"Well, I guess 'AFTER breakfast' will have to wait then...." The muscles in his stomach contracted at the teasing note in her voice and Logan tightened his arms around her.

"You're going to drive me crazy..." he growled. She laughed again and wriggled out of the embrace, to stand looking at him with both eyebrows raised.

"Well, it's a long trip, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Logan answered, eyes narrowing, trying to figure out where she was heading with this.

"So we'll probably have to stop along the way..." Oh...

"Yeah..." he grinned.

"Well, then, you'll have plenty of time later, won't you?" she winked, as she turned away and began to shove worn clothing into a small sack. Logan swore under his breath at the tension that was now fairly singing through his body. Crossing the room in only a few strides, he grabbed her from behind and turned her to face him. Her mouth opened to speak and he stopped her with a rough kiss. Letting only a fraction of the intensity inside him show through... When he finally drew back, her chest rose and fell with harsh breathes.

"Time I intend to take full advantage of..." he whispered into her ear, before finally releasing her to gather his own things. The stunned look on her face would just have to last him through the day's ride...

Chapter 10

Within the hour, Kiara had damped the fire in the little stove, closed and latched the shutter on the window and made sure that neither the elements nor maurauding animals would be able to get into the cabin while she was away. She pulled on the worn hooded parka Logan had noticed hanging near the alcove and, picking up her sack, stood in the center of the cabin. Looking around with a last, forlorn glance.

"Why do I feel like this is the last time I'm going to see my home?" Her voice was hushed, filled with that same apprehension he'd seen earlier on her face. Logan padded silently across the room to her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he leaned in and gently kissed the nape of her neck.

"It'll be alright, Kiara - I promise. You'll be back.. *we'll* be back..." Logan whispered softly into her ear, as he felt some of the tension drain from her body. She leaned back into him, and nodded.

Reluctantly, Logan released her and they made their way to the open door. With a sigh, Kiara shut the door behind them and locked it. Logan had already taken the motorcycle outside, and strapped his own rucksack to the back. Taking hers from her hand, he quickly undid the straps and added it his. Once he was certain they were secure again, he swung a leg over the bike and held out a hand to her. A moment's hesitation and then her hand was in his, her body sliding into the small space on the bike between him and the gear. Despite the frigid temperatures, Logan felt his body temperature increase by a thousand degrees, at the sensation of her thighs pressed against the outside of his legs, of her arms slipping under his denim to wrap around his waist. Resting perilously low for concentration's sake...

"Alright, hold on." His voice sounded gruff, even to him, and he had to struggle against the sudden urge to pick her up off the bike and carry her right back into the damn cabin. Instead, he popped the clutch and the bike roared to life. Kiara's arms tightened around him for just a minute, and then relaxed as he carefully wove the bike through the trees along the deer run, and back to the road. Once they hit the highway, he opened the bike up, intent on getting as many miles behind them as possible before they stopped for the night. Kiara rested her head on his back, and he could feel the slight warmth of her breath before the cold wind wipping past chilled his skin again. As the miles flew by, he felt her arms relax further and one hand slid down to rest on the waist of his jeans. A groan escaped his lips and he turned his head back towards her.

"You want me to drive right off the road?"

"Oh.... sorry..." came the laughing reply, as the offending hand returned to a safer postion.

The damn night better hurry its ass up...

***

The sky had barely begun to darken, when Logan finally pulled off the road and into the parking lot of a small inn that advertised food and lodging. His legs were stiff from being in the same position for so many hours and it felt good to climb off the bike and stretch. He heard a groan and then a laugh, and turned to face Kiara. She was still sitting on the bike, trying to straighten her own legs without wincing in pain. She looked up to see him watching her and laughed again.

"I think I'm frozen to the bike..." Logan laughed out loud and moved quickly to her side.

"Here, let me help..." Looping an arm underneath hers, he helped her to climb off the bike and supported her until the muscles in her legs had uncramped enough to make walking feasible. Of course, by that time, he didn't want to let go...

Kiara turned her head to face him, and for a moment, he felt himself drowning again in those eyes... Eyes that stared back up at him... the scent of warm spice growing ever stronger in the space surrounding them. Then Kiara's teeth started chattering and her body started to shiver and the moment was broken.

"God, I'm starved and I'm freezing!" Kiara managed to stutter out, as she shyly looked away and, with a chagrined smile, Logan led her into the warmth of the inn.

The inn held only a few patrons, but the air was saturated with the smell of good food and roasted meat, and Logan's mouth began watering before they'd barely passed the threshold. Kiara had her hood pulled up and her head down, to keep anyone from noticing the color of her eyes. From noticing she was a mutant... Logan steered them to a corner booth and motioned for the waitress as they sat down. As she wove her way through the tables towards them, he turned back to Kiara.

"What do you want?"

"I'd kill for a steak - rare. Oh, and a beer... haven't had one in a very long time..." Logan laughed at the wistful tone in her voice and turned to face the waitress.

"We'll have two steaks, rare, and two Molson's," he said, before the woman had even had a chance to speak. The waitress only laughed.

"Hungry, are you?" Logan looked at Kiara with a sly grin on his face.

"Yeah, you could say that..." The waitress simply laughed again and headed to the kitchen behind the bar, to place their order with the cook. The silence at the table grew, as Logan continued to stare at Kiara's bowed head.

"Will you PLEASE stop staring at me?" she finally giggled, twisting a napkin between her fingers.

"Can't help it..." Logan began, and Kiara raised her head to cut him off. Until her eyes locked on his, and her retort died on her lips. The laughter disappeared from her face, to be replaced by something darker. Intense need... At that moment, the waitress returned with their beers and placed them in front of them. Logan had to clear his throat before he could speak.

"How do we get a room here?" The waitress glanced at Kiara and then back at Logan.

"I'll just tell Tom at the bar - he'll see to it. Would that be one room or two, Mr.?" Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Logan's face and then back at Kiara's bowed head.

"One room. Mr. and Mrs. Logan." A giggle escaped Kiara's hood, and he had to kick her foot under the table, without laughing himself. The waitress nodded, what looked supsiciously like a grin on her face and left. Hand shaking slightly from the surge of hormones tapdancing along his nerves, Logan lifted the cold bottle to his lips and gulped down a third in one swallow. Kiara followed his actions, taking a considerably smaller swallow of her own, before placing the beer back on the table.

"God, that was good..." she sighed, eyes closed in enjoyment.

"It only gets better..." Logan whisperd softly, as he reached across the table to run a finger along the back of her hand. Kiara's eyes opened slowly, and she looked at him with what couldn't be mistaken for anything but desire. Her hand turned in his and soft, delicate fingers stroked across a callused palm. Logan's breath left him with a hiss, and he shot an impatient glance at the kitchen door.

"Where the hell are those steaks?" Kiara giggled at the pained sound in his voice, and her fingers curled around his. Fortunately, for both the safety of the inn's staff, and Logan's sanity, the waitress arrived shortly thereafter with their plates. Dinner passed in a blur, as they both set to eating without any more talk. Logan leaned back in his seat and watched as Kiara finished wiping her face with the napkin. Rising, he again held out his hand to her, and this time, there was no hesitation. Stopping at the base of the stairs that led to the second level, Logan spoke in a voice roughened by want.

"Wait here. I have to get the bags off the bike." Kiara nodded, and watched as Logan started to turn for the door. He hadn't gone two steps before he was back in front of her, his hand reaching up to grasp the back of her neck and pull her to him in a rough kiss. Breaking away, he looked at her and grinned. "Be right back..."

"Hurry..." Kiara whispered back, as she struggled to stand on suddenly weak knees. Logan just winked at her and then was out the door. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. Only to open them and find Logan standing in front of her again. She blinked in surprise. "That was quick..."

"Didn't want to keep you waiting," Logan smiled slowly, as he watched her body shiver to the unspoken meaning behind his words. "Tom says we're in room 3, at the end." Taking her hand in his, he led her up the stairs and down the hall. Unlocking the door, he kicked it open with his foot. "After you..." he said, letting Kiara precede him into the room. Following right behind her, he dropped the bags on the floor and shut the door behind him. Leaned against it for a minute, as he watched Kiara's eyes roaming the room, taking in the simple bed, the cotton sheets, the bare, but clean carpeting. Then he moved slowly to stand behind her.

"This has got to go..." he whispered softly, as he raised both hands to slide the hood from her head. To slide the parka from her shoulders, letting it fall forgotten on the floor. Kiara drew in a deep, shuddering breath, as his hands came to rest on her shoulders. Logan moved closer still, only bare inches separating them, and leaned down to bury his face in the hair at the base of her neck, one hand coming around her waist to rest, fingers spread wide, on her lower stomach. The warm, spicy scent of *her* inflamed his senses and he slowly ran his mouth down her neck with small nips and licks. Kiara groaned and leaned back into him. The sensation of her body pressing along the length of him brought a growl up from his chest and his lips locked on the sensative skin of her bared neck. Suckling until he could feel the heat rising off the flesh that meant there would be a mark there. *His* mark... A louder groan from Kiara, and her hips rubbed against him as a ripple traveled through her body. Now that, that was too much...

Logan's hands spun her around to face him and his mouth left a trail of kisses that ended in the hollow of her neck. One of his hands found it's way to tangle in her hair, as he bent her head back to expose even more of that beautiful stretch of skin... She moaned and leaned into him on wobbly legs. Without ever removing his lips from her neck, Logan steadily pushed her backwards, until she finally came to rest against the wall.

"Logan..." It was somewhere between a moan and a plea, and the sound of her harsh, throaty voice did things to Logan's insides that no woman ever had before.

"You have extra clothes in that sack?" The muscles of his throat were so tight, it was almost painful to speak.

"Yes... why?" Confusion in her voice, as she tried to get past addled senses.

"Just wanted to make sure you'll have something else to wear..." Logan grunted as the claws slid out of his right hand with a metallic snap. Easing away from her, he kept his eyes locked on hers as he slowly ran a single claw inside the front of her shirt. Watched those eyes close and that body shake, as he drew the claw down through the cloth with a tearing sound. Claws withdrawn, he leaned back in, his mouth resting next to her ear, as he ran a hand inside the ruined shirt to cup a breast. "I have wanted this all damn day..." he whispered, gently rolling the nipple between two fingers.

"Logan...please...." Kiara pleaded, as her body arched into his touch. He laughed softly into her ear.

"No... last time was too rushed.... I'm taking my time tonight..." Slowly, he drew the shirt down off her shoulders, baring her skin to the warm air of the room. Bent his head to take one nipple into his mouth as his fingers continued to tease the other. He could feel Kiara's breath coming faster and he smiled into her flesh. Released her breast to continue kissing a path down her stomach. Reached the waist of her pants... Claws snapped out once more... Once more, tattered cloth fell to the carpet...

On his knees before her, he spread his hands across each hip as he leaned it to flick out teasingly at the soft skin of her belly button. Swirled his tongue around to suck gently at the tender flesh, felt Kiara's body squirming underneath his hands. Felt her hands come up to grasp at his hair in desparation...

"Logan... I don't think I'm going to be able to stand up much longer..."

"Don't worry, baby, I've got you..." One arm pressed gently at her thighs, spreading her legs more. Both arms looped around behind the muscles of her thighs, until her weight was supported by his arms and shoulders... Bent his head again.. Tongue flicking out to sensitive flesh... much lower this time...

"Oh god..." Kiara moaned, as she threw her head back against the hard wooden wall. Fingers dug into Logan's scalp, as her hips writhed beneath his tongue. "Please.. . god...Logan... stop... I can't.... oh..." He ignored her pleas, instead moving a hand to slide a finger along her warm center. Her hips bucked at his touch and he chuckled low in his throat. Continued to flick his tongue across her dampness as a finger, then two slid inside her. Began to move them in time to the strokes of his tongue...

"Oh my god, Logan!!" she screamed, her head thrashing from side to side uncontrollably. With that scream, Logan could feel himself growing painfully close to losing control. But still he continued... this was something he *never* wanted her to forget...

Her body grew taught above him, and he could feel all of her muscles lock. Fingers tightened in his hair and didn't release. The sound that tore from her lips as her body shook was devoid of words... Still, he continued.... Continued until, once again she began to moan and writhe, senseless words spilling from a gasping mouth...

Only then did he stop. Rose up along the length of her body to take her head between his hands... To cover her mouth with his own, tongues entwining in a ferocious dance... His hands slipped down cup the backs of her thighs. Raised those legs to wrap around his waist as he slid into her... Grinding, thrusting, pushing... He felt her muscles tighten around him and he lost it. Tore his lips from her mouth and screamed into her hair with sweet release... Her voice joining his...

Exhaustion.... pleasant, mind-altering exhaustion... Logan wrapped his arms around Kiara, whose limp body was resting heavily against him. With a tender kiss on her lips, he lifted her up, her head lolling against his sweaty shoulder, eyes already closing in sleep. Walked to the bed on shaky legs of his own... slid the sheets back and laid her down... slipped in beside her, molding his body to hers... closed his eyes...and slept.

Chapter 11

That night, Logan dreamt. This wasn't a buried memory. No, it was a different dream than the ones that usually plagued him. A far different one...

He dreamt of walking down a long corridor, the metal walls sterile and cold. There were others with him, behind him, this he knew but in the dream, his eyes remained on the twisting corridor before him. A scream shattered the silence of the dreamscape and he suddenly found himself running through the gleaming passageways, lungs struggling to suck in air through a throat constricted by terror. Voices behind him, shouting his name.... he ignored them and ran on. He had to.... he had to find the source of that scream... He skidded around a turn and his heart stopped in his chest. There on the cold floor was a crumpled body. Head turned slightly to the side.... soft, dark hair partially obscuring a slack face... He fell to his knees beside the still form and reached out with a shaking hand to brush the hair away from the shrouded face.... Kiara's face...

"Logan, I'm sorry..." Jean's voice rang in his ears, as he threw back his head and howled at the heavens all the rage, all the pain, all the grief that was shattering his very soul...

The sound of his own voice crying out in anguish brought Logan abruptly awake. To find himself sitting upright in tangled sheets, cold sweat trickling down his face and body, with Kiara reaching out a soft hand to his shoulder, fear and concern warring on her face. Her face... Before she could react, he pulled her to him and buried his face in her hair. Inhaling deeply, letting all of his senses calm his racing heart with the knowledge that it was a dream. That she was alive. That she was here. Here in his arms and not lying on a cold metal floor... He closed his eyes tightly against the remnants of the dream, willing them to go away.

"Logan?" Her muffled voice was tentative, and he had to clear his throat to answer the unspoken question he could hear there.

"It was just a nightmare..." She shifted a little in his arms, reaching up with a warm hand to stroke his face. He closed his eyes at the sensation. She's alive... she's not dead...

"Want to talk about it?" Her hand ran comfortingly up his face, through his hair, to massage the back of his neck. Chasing the demons away...

He thought about it then. Thought about telling her of the horrifying image of her lying dead on a cold floor somewhere... and realized that he couldn't. Even though the sharpness of the nightmare was fading with every waking moment, the sense of dread that had accompanied it made his throat tighten. He knew that there was no way he could hide that fear from her if he began speaking about it so, rather than frighten her, he chose to downplay it. To bury it inside... where the other nightmares lived...

"No, it's already fading," Logan sighed, as he lay back down, Kiara enfolded inside one arm to snuggle against his chest. The sensation of her fingers gently stroking the soft hair on his chest brought calmness back to him, and he could feel his eyelids beginning to droop as Kiara spoke again.

"Will you tell me about them?" Her voice was soft, hushed, and the warm breath against his bare skin almost tickled.

"Them?" he murmured, absent-mindedly caressing her hair.

"These friends of yours that we're going to meet. What are they like?" Beneath the curiosity in her voice, he could hear an undercurrent of uneasiness, and he fought to bring himself more awake.

"Alright.... well, first, there's the Professor. Charles Xavier. He's the guy responsible for everything - it's his mansion the school and the team are based at. He's older, paralyzed and in a wheelchair, but, both from what I've seen and what I've heard, he's the most powerful telepath in the world." He felt Kiara tense at his mention of Xavier's abilities, and he hurried to continue. "But he's a really good guy. Helped me out a while back, gave me a place to stay, a home to come back to if I wanted it. Helped me to find you..." His voice drifted off, as he gently squeezed Kiara to him. He felt the tension leak out of her and felt her chuckle against his chest.

"Well, then he can't be a bad guy, now can he?" Logan laughed at her assessment of the Professor.

"I don't think he's even capable of being bad." Kiara laughed again, and Logan felt a moment's deja vu at the musical sound. He could remember liking that sound, wanting nothing more than to hear it over and over again...

"So, who else is there besides this Professor Xavier?" Her words brought him out of his reverie and he smiled against her hair.

"Well, there's Scott - they call him Cyclops..." He couldn't help snickering at the foolish way the name sounded.

"Cyclops?! What, does he only have one eye, or something?" The snicker developed into full blown laughter and it was a minute before he could answer her incredulous question.

"No, no, that's just a sort of... codename, I guess. His ability is to shoot a concentrated laser beam from his eyes. But he can't control it, so he has to wear this special visor. Hence, the name Cyclops..."

"Well, what is he like?" The words were out before he could stop himself.

"He's a dick." This time it was Kiara's turn to laugh out loud.

"Sounds like you don't like him much."

"He's alright. He means well, I guess - just way to stuck up. The word 'relax' is not a part of his vocabulary..." A giggle from Kiara. "He's the leader of the X-Men, Xavier's right hand man."

"Who else is a part of these... X-Men?" He could hear the amusement in her voice over the name, and again smiled into her hair. This had to be just another one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place...

"Dr. Jean Grey. She's their resident scientist, has the ability to move things with her mind. And some ability at telepathy. She's Cyke's fiancee." He felt a brief surge of phantom jealousy at the memory of Jean, but it passed quickly. Jean belonged to another man. And he could never feel for her the sheer depth and intensity of what he felt for the woman who lay in the circle of his arms.

"You... feel something for this woman?" Kiara's voice was hesitant when she spoke, but he could fairly smell the jealousy beginning to radiate off of her.

"No. I mean, I did. Once. Before I found you again. Now there can never be anyone else..." He planted a reassuring kiss on her forehead and felt her relax back into his embrace. He had a suspicious feeling that there was a smug look on Kiara's face at that moment, but he kept his smile to himself.

"Alright. Is that it?"

"No. Then there's Storm." Another giggle from Kiara.

"Do they *all* have these codenames?"

"Yeah..." he laughed.

"Do *you*?" He blushed at the memory of the name he'd been known by on the fight circuit, the name on his dog tags.

"Wolverine." Silence. Then a stifled giggle.

"Well, it certainly suites you..." The teasing tone in her voice was too much to bear. A second later, Kiara was gasping for mercy through tears of laughter, as he ruthlessly tickled her. "Stop! Stop! I promise - no more laughing!"

"Well alright, then..." he growled in mock annoyance. "Where was I? Oh yeah, Storm. Also known as Ororo Munroe. Dark-skinned woman, long white hair. Has the ability to control the elements - she can make it rain, lightening, control the wind. Stuff like that. She's really very nice, though. I think you'll like her."

"I'm sure I will, Logan."

"And then there's Marie. Rogue, as they call her..." His voice softened at the mention of her name, and he found himself slipping back in time to that moment outside Laughlin City, when he'd let a half-frozen slip of a runaway into his truck and into his heart.

"You care for her..." This time, there was no jealousy radiating from Kiara. Only a softness, a compassion.

"Yeah... we sort of fell together before either of us ever met the X-Men. Teenage girl with a rather nasty mutation - anyone touches her bare skin, she sucks the life energy right out of them. Poor kid ran away from home. No where to go, no body who understood..."

"So, two people, alienated and alone, found companionship and belonging in each other..." Kiara's shrewd grasp of the bond that existed between him and Rogue startled him. In a few words, she had seen right into his soul, and understood it. Had put into words the amorphous feelings that had floated around inside him. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah. She knew what I was, and didn't fear me. She trusted me. In a battle with other mutants, she was drained and dying. I.... I touched her and she absorbed my healing ability. Enough to save herself. But along with it, she got inside me head. I'd say we got inside each others... She's a special kid. I promised her I'd protect her." He felt slightly silly admitting those last words, admitting to caring enough about a teenage girl to risk his own life. But again, Kiara simply nodded. Understood,without having to ask any further what he had meant.

"I know, Logan. I can't wait to meet her..." Her hand came up to gently brush against his cheek before falling back down to rest on his chest.

"You'll like them. You'll like them all, I promise. They're good people. People we can trust," he whispered softly into the skin of her temple.

"I only trust you, Logan..." was the mumbled response he got, as he felt Kiara's body relaxing back into sleep. Her breath deepened and he found himself following her down into a deep, peaceful slumber. His last thought that, by the end of the new day, they'd reach their destination. And maybe, finally, find some answers...

Chapter 12

The weak morning light on his eyelids brought Logan slowly up out of sleep. For a moment, as his waking mind fought to piece itself together, he was puzzled by the feeling of a warm body pressed against his. And then the memories of the past few days filtered their way past the drowsy fog surrounding his brain. Kiara. A piece of his life from *before* the experiments. Not a figment of his imagination. But real. Alive. Here, in his arms... A warm smile stole across his face as he gazed down at the dark haired woman who still slept curled up against his chest. And for that one moment, that one crystal clear moment, he knew absolute peace. Happiness. And a contentment that soaked through every pore, every cell of his body down to the depths of his soul. Love... yes, that's what that feeling was, he realized with some surprise. Something that he'd never thought he'd been lucky enough to have before he'd undergone his hellish transformation into whatever it was that he had become. Something he was damn well sure he *hadn't* experienced since then. Since they'd stolen his life and his memories... Chasing on the heels of that thought, came the suddenly overwhelming fear that what he'd found could be taken away again. Could be torn away again... His arms tightened possessively around the sleeping Kiara and he buried his face in her hair, breathing in deeply. Trying to slow the pounding of his heart, trying to quell the panic that threatened to steal the breath from his lungs... Kiara stirred, snuggling closer to him, and he could feel her eyelashes flutter open against the bare skin of his chest.

"Morning..." He crushed the fear down, burying it inside again and masking it from her with a tender kiss on the top of her head.

"Hmmm....... morning...." Her voice was fuzzy with sleep as she propped herself up on one elbow to look into his face. The sight of those beautiful golden eyes staring into him, filled with such utter, uncompromising love made him want to sing. Which would be a very bad thing, considering you can't sing for shit, asshole... The sudden image of himself trying to serenade her from beneath some balcony started a chuckle, which turned into a full blown laugh by the time it reached his lips. Kiara raised an accusing eyebrow at this sudden outburst.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Your hair is sticking straight up from your head..." Well, it was...

"It can't look *half* as bad as yours does, honey..." she smirked, planting a kiss on his lips before rolling out of bed and heading for the bathroom.

"Hey!" he cried out, in mock outrage, before another laugh undid him. "Where are you going?" She smiled at him impishly from behind the half opened door.

"I strongly suspect that the hot water is limited, and I intend to get into the shower first..." He growled at her, and she laughed, shutting the door firmly. He heard the water come on, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. While a cold shower wouldn't kill him, the temptation of a hot shower.... with Kiara... was too much to resist. Her only response, as he climbed into the shower stall behind her, was, "Logan, shut the door - the water's getting all over the floor..." To which he replied, "Shut up..." It was a good fifteen minutes before either of them actually remembered the reason they were suppose to be in there, and another ten before they actually reached for the soap and shampoo. By which time, the hot water had long since grown tepid, but neither complained...

***

Kiara was waiting by the bike, when Logan finally came out from settling their tab. She smiled as he leaned into her, both hands resting on her hips.

"You are an evil woman, darlin'..." he whispered, before kissing her roughly. When he finally drew back, she laughed.

"Well, the water was getting too cold..."

"Bathroom carpet looked just fine to me..." Another soft kiss on the bend of her neck, and her knees were threatening to give way. She giggled, and pushed him away.

"Need I remind you who was insisting that they wanted to be there before nightfall?" He breathed out a ragged sigh, and the harsh, warm breath against the side of her neck made her shiver.

"Yeah... I know...." he muttered, raising his head to look at her. The corner of his mouth lifted up in a sly smile, and he whispered against her ear," Besides, the beds at Xavier's are probably much more comfortable..." With a satisfied smile at the glazed expression on her face, he swung his leg over the bike and patted the seat behind him. "Come on, we're wasting good travelling time." She laughed and climbed onto the leather seat, wrapping both hands around his lower waist. Purposefully curling her fingers around the belt he wore.... eliciting a very distinct groan from Logan.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually grateful to Cyke..." he muttered, starting the bike and pulling out onto the highway. Before Kiara could have the chance to ask him what he'd meant, he hit the button that pushed the bike into hyperdrive and they were roaring along the highway at a breakneck speed. The satisfaction he felt at the rapidly diminishing distance to their destination doing battle with the distracting way Kiara was clutching tightly to the waist of his jeans...

***

By late afternoon, Logan was carefully weaving the bike through the winding streets of Westchester, towards Xavier's School for Gifted Children. The weather in New York, although chilly, was considerably warmer than that in Canada, and he'd long since stuffed his leather in the bag and unbuttoned his denim jacket. With each turn the bike took, he could feel the tension in Kiara's body increasing. Could feel her heart pounding against his back, even through the rough fabric of his denim jacket. He'd known she was uneasy about this trip but damn, it felt like she was on the verge of a heartattack. He took his right hand off the handle of the bike and slid it comfortingly over hers. Her hand latched onto his with a surprising strength, and he spared a quick glance down at it. Only to see white knuckles gripping his hand, the silouette of metallic claws just visible beneath tightly stretched skin. Damn... He gradually slowed the speed of the bike until they came to a stop alongside the road. A quick sniff at the air confirmed what his eyes had already told him - they were within three blocks of the mansion. Kiara's tremulous voice over his shoulder reminded him sharply of why he'd stopped.

"Logan? Why are we stopped?" He twisted around on the bike until his upper body faced hers, and brought both hands up to cradle her wide-eyed face.

"Because you're upset." Kiara blushed and tried to duck her head, but his hand under her chin brought her eyes back up to meet his.

"It's nothing.. really..." Even without the fact that her scent was fairly screaming that it was *not* nothing, that she *was* upset, he could see the lie in her eyes.

"What's wrong? I told you - they're good people. We can trust them, Kiara." The softness of his voice brought a nervous smile to her face and she sighed into the palm of his hand.

"It's just... well... what if they don't *like* me, Logan? They know you, they don't know me. I'm a stranger who's about to ask them a very big favor. Who's going to ask their leader to root around inside my head..." She dropped her eyes, the tension and fear in her scent flared up, and he knew that he'd found the main issue that was making her balk. She was afraid of letting Xavier inside her head. It was a fear he understood, but it was also the only hope they had of getting any sort of ID on the bastards who'd done this to them. And that was something he just couldn't let drop.

"Look at me..." Only when her eyes had met his again, did he continue. "Kiara, they won't hurt you. I won't *let* them hurt you. Don't you want to find out who did this to you... to us?" The tension bled out of her expression a little, and she nodded slowly. "Well, this is the only chance we've got. And they can be trusted, Kiara - I swear it. Once you've met them, you'll understand better, okay?" Another nod, more resolute this time, and he turned back to the front of the bike. Felt her hands slide back around his waist, and her cheek resting against his shoulder. The bike kicked up some gravel as he brought it back onto the road, and he sighed into the wind. This was not going to be as easy as he'd thought...

In a matter of minutes, they were outside the mansion's gates. The scanner identified Logan as authorized and the huge wrought iron gates slid soundlessly open. As the bike roared up the long, winding road to the mansion's front door, Logan felt a curious sense of comfort, of coming home. The irony of the thought that the place where they'd had a hard time convincing him to stay six months ago now seemed like home, made him laugh out loud. He was still smiling as he helped Kiara off the bike and they climbed the steps to the front door. He'd barely raised a hand to knock, when the door swung open to reveal a smiling Jean. Who's smile faltered as soon as her eyes fell on the figure of Kiara, half sheltered behind Logan's body.

"Logan... welcome home." The smile was quickly back on her face, almost as soon as it had vanished, but Logan caught the distinct, sharp scent of jealousy in the air and had to suppress a smile.

"Jeannie, how's things? This is Kiara," he said, putting an arm around Kiara's shoulder and drawing her forward to stand beside him. "It's a long story, but we need to see the Professor." He could almost see the questions flickering across Jean's face, as her eyes went from Kiara, to him, back to Kiara, until she finally held the door wide and motioned for them to enter.

"Well don't just stand there, Logan... Kiara... come in. The Professor's in his study - I've informed him that you're here and he's asked that you join him there." As they moved past her to enter the mansion, Logan let his arm drop to rest around Kiara's waist and he knew that Jean hadn't missed the possessive way he touched her. He couldn't help it - it might not be nice, but it sure felt good to see the shoe on the other foot for a change....

Chapter 13

The dark mahogany walls of the mansion gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight, as they made they're way towards the Professor's office. The further into the building they progressed, the greater the tension Logan could feel radiating off of Kiara. She was casting furtive, wide eyed glances about them as they walked, and the muscles beneath Logan's hand were taut, bunched. He could see Jean glancing worriedly at Kiara, from the corner of her eyes, and he wasn't surprised when he felt the hesitant touch of her mind on his.

*Logan...*

*She hasn't been around people a lot, Jean - she's frightened. Now get out of my head,* he thought back at her, his mental 'voice' short and brusque. He felt her faint apology and then she was gone. As they came to a halt in front of the door to the Professor's office, barely discernible against the long expanse of dark wood, Kiara looked up at him with fear plain in her eyes. He let his fingers glide across her lower back, in soft, reassuring strokes. The door opened before them and Jean motioned for them to enter. Xavier came around the corner of his desk, his chair silent against the plush carpeting, and smiled warmly at them before dismissing Jean.

"Thank you, Jean. Now, please leave us." Her eyes opened wide in surprise at the dismissal - along with Scott, she was one of the Professor's most trusted inner circle and he normally didn't keep things from her.

"Of course, Professor. Let me know if you need anything," she said, masking her disappointment smoothly as she quietly shut the door behind her. Logan turned back to face the Professor as he spoke again.

"Welcome back, Logan - we've missed you. And who might this young lady be?" Xavier returned to behind his desk, motioning for them both to sit. Logan could feel Kiara relaxing beneath the Professor's kindly, unthreatening gaze, and his own tension level dropped a notch.

"Thanks, Charles. This is Kiara. She's... well, she was part of my life before the... experiments. They did the same thing to her as they did to me. Worse," he amended, as he thought again of how it must've felt for Kiara, to feel the life inside her extinguished, cut from her body. He glanced at her quickly, and he could see her face pale at his words. He tightened his grip on her hand, and continued. "We were hoping you could help us." Xavier nodded, and turned to Kiara.

"I'm terribly sorry for what you've gone through, Kiara. I have some idea of what was done to Logan, and I wouldn't wish that torment on anyone. You are as welcome here as he, and you both have my word that I'll do whatever I can to help you. Did you have something specific in mind?" he said, the last words directed at Logan.

"Kiara's nightmares showed her something mine haven't - a face. I - We were hoping that you could, maybe, read her mind and then put the image of that face into the mind of someone who can draw it. And then maybe, help us try to ID him." Logan felt awkward asking - he'd prided himself on never needing to depend on anyone for anything, and asking for help was not something he was comfortable with. But even he had to admit to himself that this was something which only Xavier could possibly help them, and he wasn't going to throw away their only lead out of stubborn pride.

"I can certainly help you with transferring the image to someone who can render a hard copy of it, but I cannot guarantee that the computer will be able to give us an ID." Xavier raised a hand, forestalling Logan's impatient response. "However, I promise that all of our resources will be at your disposal. I only hope that it is enough. And now, I strongly suspect that you are both hungry and tired from your long journey and would like nothing more than to have some dinner, shower and get some rest." Kiara's smothered giggle at the mention of a 'shower' made the Professor raise a bemused eyebrow but he politely ignored her and continued. "I'll have Jean show you to the kitchen where you can help yourselves, and then she can show you to your room." This time, there was a slight smile on the Professor's face and Logan didn't miss the emphasis he'd placed on the singular 'room'.

*It isn't difficult to miss how you feel about her, Logan - you're broadcasting strongly enough for even the weakest telepath to pick up* came the amused chuckle in his mind and then the door was once again opening, a smiling Jean waiting in the hallway. Logan laughed out loud and stood, Kiara quickly moving to join him.

"Thanks, Charles. I knew we could count on you."

"You're more than welcome, Logan, you know that. Now go and relax. We can begin tomorrow."

"Thank you... Professor," Kiara said softly, speaking for the first time, before she ducked her head shyly.

"It is my pleasure, Kiara. Whatever help we would offer Logan extends to you as well." She nodded and smiled at his words, and then Logan was leading the way out of the office. Jean took them down a number of hallways until they finally rounded a corner, and Logan's nose picked up the lingering smells of lunch. His stomach growled loudly at the prospect of food, eliciting another giggle from Kiara. Jean smiled conspiratorially and leaned into Kiara.

"Just make sure he doesn't eat *everything*, ok? We still need to have something left over for the kids' dinner," she said in a loud stage whisper. Kiara laughed out loud and Logan simply glared at them both. Jean straightened, still smiling, and addressed Logan directly. "Do you think you can remember how to get to your old room from here? I have a class I'm late to teach."

"Sure, we'll be fine. Thanks, Jeannie," Logan said, nodding.

"Welcome back, Logan," Jean said over her shoulder, as she disappeared back the way they'd come. Logan pushed open the door before them, revealing a large commercial size kitchen, replete with metal surfaces everywhere. There were two large refrigerators against one wall, a restaurant style stove and ovens against the other, and a number of cupboards lining the remaining surfaces. In the center of the room, stood a large metal table flanked by several chairs. A quick search through the first refrigerator turned up the makings of a few sandwiches. The food was quickly consumed in companionable silence, since neither of them had eaten since the night before, and washed down with water. Much to Logan's disappointment, neither refrigerator had been stocked with beer...

"Now that was good..." Logan sighed, patting his stomach and leaning back in his chair. He raised an eyebrow at Kiara, who sat across from him. "I think now might be a good time to go see about that shower..." She laughed.

"Is that all you think about?"

"No. That and you..." The laughter bled from her voice and her eyes stared back at him. He could feel the muscles in his lower abdomen tighten as she smiled slowly back at him, running her tongue across her lower lip.

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea..." Exhaustion vanished and was replaced by a steadily building heat in his blood. He growled low under his breath and stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of her chair. As she stumbled to regain her footing, placing both hands on his chest, he dipped his head and kissed her with all of the passion that was threatening to boil away his insides. He allowed himself a moment of savage pride, when he felt her knees weaken and her body rested heavily against him. Drawing back, he looked down at her.

"Sounds like a damn good idea, to me. Come on." He grabbed her hand again and led her out the kitchen doors, into the hallway. No sooner had they turned into the next hallway, when a slight feminine figure came flying around the corner and threw her arms around a shocked Logan's neck.

"Logan!! You're back!!" Logan smiled and returned the hug briefly, before disentangling himself.

"Hey there, kid. I said I'd be back, didn't I?" Rogue smiled up at him, and then turned to face the silent Kiara beside him. She raised an eyebrow and Logan could see a fleeting emotion cross her face, before she smiled again and extended a gloved hand.

"Hi, I'm Rogue." Kiara's face lit with a warm smile and she took Rogue's hand in both of hers.

"Oh, so you're Rogue - Logan has told me a lot about you. I'm Kiara." Logan was a little taken aback by how quickly Kiara had warmed up to Rogue but, then again, it didn't surprise him. Rogue wasn't visibly threatening in any way and besides, he'd already told her how much she meant to him - of course Kiara would make every attempt to befriend the girl.

"Glad to meet you," Rogue said, smiling back at her. "So, why're you back?"

"It's a long story, kid. I'll tell you about it tomorrow, ok?" Rogue looked like she was about to protest, but then she took in the way Logan was holding Kiara's hand. The dark, impatient look in his eyes, and she smiled at him.

"Oh... I see... well, have a good night!" she called out over her shoulder, winking once before disappearing. Logan laughed softly at her presumptuousness and heard Kiara actually snicker next to him. Turning to face her, he raised an eyebrow.

"Something funny?" Kiara started to open her mouth to reply, but before she could, Logan had her pressed against the wall with his body. Hands on her hips, his face bare inches from hers. Her eyes stared back at him, the rapid rise and fall of her chest against his almost driving him out of control.

"Not at all..."

"Good," he grinned, suddenly stepping back and taking her hand in his. "Now, let's go find that room..."

Chapter 14

The door swung inwards and Logan reached for the light switch with his free hand. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Except for clean sheets and a freshly made bed, they hadn't touched a thing. The room was exactly as he'd left it six months ago. They hadn't turned it back into a dorm room the moment he'd left, as he'd half expected - they'd kept it vacant. Ready for his return... In the 15 years that he could remember, he'd never stayed in one place longer than a few weeks at most. He'd certainly never stayed long enough to develop an attachment to anyone or anything. The realization that, for six long months, a group of people whom he'd known for only a few days had kept a room reserved for him, had left a space waiting for him in their tight knit family, made his throat tighten and he closed his eyes against the sudden emotion. Kiara's soft voice behind him broke the silence and he opened his eyes again.

"Logan, is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong... just didn't expect them to keep the room the way I'd left it, that's all." Kiara's arms circled his waist and he could feel the warmth of her cheek press against his shoulder.

"Why wouldn't they? They're good people, Logan, they care about you. I don't know them, and even I can see that." He smiled and taking her hand in his, led her into the room. Lying at the base of the bed was a neatly folded stack of sweat suits, with a note from Jean on top: "Logan, I had to guess at Kiara's sizes but these should fit her well enough until she can find something else. Perhaps, if she wants, Ororo and I could take her shopping tomorrow afternoon. Welcome back, Logan - we all missed you. Jean" Logan laughed out loud and Kiara stopped her investigation of the room to look up at him inquiringly.

"Jeannie wants to take you shopping tomorrow," he laughed. When Kiara's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store, he closed his eyes and groaned. "The mall is never going to know what hit it..." The pillow hit him square in the face and his eyes snapped open to see Kiara grinning at him devilishly across the bed.

"Logan, I have been living like a hermit in the middle of nowhere. For as long as I can remember, I haven't owned a single piece of nice clothing. If Jean and this Ororo are willing to take me, well then, tomorrow I am going shopping, dammit!" The look of fierce determination she levelled at him only made him laugh harder as he quickly crossed the floor to stand in front of her.

"I was only teasing you, Kiara - if shopping is what you want, then that's what you're gonna get," he said, as he brought his hands up to rest on her hips and leaned his face down to nestle in her hair. "I want whatever will make you happy..." His lips traced softly over the pulse in the side of her neck and he could feel a shiver run through her.

"Right now, I want that shower you've been promising me..." Her voice was husky, one hand reaching up to tug gently at his sideburns, and he could feel every muscle in his body tighten in response. When the fingers of that hand slipped through his hair to knead at the back of his neck, an involuntary growl started low in his throat and the kisses he gave her neck became rougher, more possessive. Suddenly, the air in the room seemed a hell of a lot warmer and thinking a lot more difficult...

"Well, then," he said, his own voice sounding harsh in his ears, "follow me..." Taking her hand in his, he led her to the spacious bathroom adjacent to his room. He heard Kiara draw in a sharp breath and looked over to see her staring about her with wide eyes. Looking at the room, himself, he realized she might be a little overwhelmed. The bathroom walls were all done in the same mahogany wood that decorated much of the mansion. The wall above the sink was graced by a large, ornate mirror, framed in more rich, mahogany tones. The sink itself was a beautiful golden bronze, the faucet done in a fluted style. The floor was covered in a plush carpet that matched that in the main part of the room. All in all, Xavier hadn't exactly stinted on anything, and he could see how someone who'd spent most of their remembered life in a bare, cold cabin might be in awe.

"Wow..." Kiara finally said, exhaling. She looked up at Logan and slowly smiled. "I can see this is a definite improvement over that hotel bathroom..." Logan's only response was a growl, as he pressed her back into the wall and buried his face in her neck. As her body arched into his, he slid one leg between hers and leaned in with his hip. Kiara gasped, as she felt his muscle thigh begin to rub against her jeans. His hands on her hips, pulling her down against him... "Oh my god, Logan..." Suddenly, Logan stepped back from her. Kiara's eyes snapped open. He grinned at her, motioning with a finger at her clothes.

"Off." Turning away from her, Logan leaned into the shower to turn on the water. As the spray of hot water began to fill the air with steam, he turned back. To find Kiara facing him. Completely nude. Claws out... As his eyes trailed up her body to meet hers, he raised an eyebrow. Kiara simply smiled and began to walk towards him. God, the way her hips swayed with every step... She raised one hand, claws ever so gently tracing the line of his jaw. His mouth went completely dry.

"You have another set of clothes in that cavern out there you call a closet?" As those claws continued to trail down his neck, sending shivers through his body, all he could do was nod and try to swallow. With a snap, the first button went flying off his shirt, and he let out an involuntary groan. When the second button was sliced off, he started to reach out for her, and Kiara danced just out of his reach. "No," she said, with a sly smile, "not yet. It's my turn right now..." He pressed his head back against the wall with another groan. Third button joined the others... Before he knew it, the warm, damp air of the bathroom was sliding over his bare chest as his shirt fell to the floor in tatters. Metal claws traced a slow, lingering path down the center of his chest, tracing over his abdomen in maddening circles, and every muscle in his body tightened in the struggle not to reach out and grab her. When those claws sliced right through his belt, and then the button of his jeans, his head snapped forward and stared into a set of yellow eyes. Eyes that looked as if they wanted to eat him alive... and it wasn't something he would mind... As he watched, Kiara drew her claws carefully down the front of his jeans, peeling them away as she went. Until finally, she knelt at his feet. Claws retracted with a metallic 'snikt'. Warm, soft fingers began to stroke their way lazily up the insides of his legs and he leaned into the wall with a sharp hiss of breath.

"Logan?" The sudden sound of his voice startled him and he had to struggle to answer.

"Yeah?"

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do..."

"Then put your hands above your head and don't move..." Oh god.... Unable to verbally respond, he slowly raised his arms, laced his fingers together and rested them on top of his head. As her hands crept slowly up his legs, he clenched his eyes shut and leaned the back of his head against the wall. When her mouth closed around him, a groan tore itself from his lips and the muscles of his arms corded, veins standing out in sharp relief against flushed skin. Oh god, the sweet torture this woman was putting him through.... Kiara's tongue swirled around him, as she continued to take as much of him into her mouth as she could. Tremors had begun to ripple through the muscles of his legs and he had to sink his teeth into his lower lip to fight the urge to lower his hands into her hair. Then she did something with her tongue, some sort of undulating wave and a scream was wrenched out of him as he slammed his head backwards into the wall. Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, her mouth was suddenly gone. His eyes flew open to find her standing before him, a satisfied smile on her lips. He gazed at her with eyes drugged by lust and sensation and she just crooked a finger at him.

"Time for that shower, I think..." He let out a strained laugh and shook his head.

"Can I move my arms now?" The look she gave him was full of a whole lot of things, and all of them did things to his body that made him want to scream again.

"I certainly hope so..." With that, she slid back the door of the shower and climbed into the hot water. With a growl, Logan pushed himself away from the wall and walked to the shower on unsteady legs. When he joined Kiara, she had her back to him, her eyes closed and face turned up into the spray. Seeing that long expanse of beautiful skin exposed to him, glistening with droplets of water, was almost more than he could take. Wordlessly, he picked up a bottle of shampoo and poured some into his cupped hand. Stepping closer to her, he began to massage it into her hair - luxuriating in the sensation of the rich lather and fine hair drifting across roughened knuckles. She sighed and let her head loll back on her neck, as his fingers gently directed her so that the hot water rinsed away the remnants of shampoo. Fingers that picked up the shower gel and began to slowly squeeze it out over her bare shoulders... Rubbing into tired muscles, massaging away tension, gently kneading and pulling at the skin until she was almost purring like a cat... He let his hands slide down her sides to her hips and she leaned back into him, as those hands reached around to cup her breasts. Rolled suddenly taut nipples between strong fingertips...

Kiara groaned and pressed back into him, her hips grinding into his. Logan let out a low, rough growl and pulled her tighter against him, the fingers of one hand splayed across her lower abdomen. She stretched her body and reached up both hands to pull his head down next to her head.

"Logan... I want you now...Inside me..." His lips latched onto her neck and he began to turn her around, but Kiara's hands on his stopped him. "No... like this... I want to feel you like this..." Before that moment, he wouldn't have thought he could possibly get any harder. But her words proved him wrong... And when Kiara leaned her upper body forwards, bracing her hands against the tiled walls and pressing backwards into him, he could barely control himself... He bent forwards and lay a gentle kiss on one wet shoulder, as he slid a hand between her legs. He was pretty damn certain that the dampness he felt was not just from the water, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Satisfied, he slowly slid into her. Heard her gasp above the sound of the running water and held himself absolutely still as she adjusted to him. Waited, barely breathing... And then she began to move against him. Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed. He rocked his hips in time to hers and she began to cry out, hands still pressed flat against the walls of the showers, the muscles in her arms taut and stretched... As sensation after sensation flooded his senses, her wordless moans filling his ears, he could feel himself fast approaching climax. Just as Kiara thrust back hard against him and screamed his name, the world exploded around him in a kaleidescope of colours. Eyes blinded by water and endorphins, he reached out and pulled Kiara up against his chest, enveloping her in his arms and burying his face in her wet hair. With his eyes still closed as he struggled to regain his breath, he could feel Kiara reach down and turn the water off. Her voice sounded deafening without the spray of the shower.

"Do you think the Professor's going to be upset when he gets the water bill?" The roar of Logan's laughter richoteted off the walls of the bathroom and he tightened his arms around a giggling Kiara.

"God damn, I love you..." he whispered into her ear. She sighed and rested her head on his forearm.

"And I love you, Logan. Life was empty without you in it..." He smiled and kissed her cheek softly. Felt her lean further into him and thought to himself that, without her in it, his life would be damn well pointless...

Chapter 15

Falling asleep in a full size bed, with Kiara inside the circle of his arms, was sheer heaven for an exhausted Logan. The sound of the tree branches brushing against the second floor glass window oddly soothing...

*FLASH* Kiara's smiling face shoving him out a door... *FLASH* waking up groggy, arms bound behind him... *FLASH* faceless, uniformed men dragging an unconscious Kiara past him... *FLASH* PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN... *FLASH* screaming, endless screaming in his ears... *FLASH* open eyes staring at a forest floor... *FLASH* Kiara lying motionless on a cold, tiled floor...

Logan woke up in a cold sweat, shuddering and fighting to bring his breathing under control. Kiara shifted beside him and raised her head from the pillow.

"Logan?" He swallowed quickly, and fought back the sudden moisture in his eyes, before turning to face her.

"It's nothing, darling. Go back to sleep..."

"Another nightmare?" Her voice was still fuzzy, but he could feel her struggling to wake up more, and he lay back down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest.

"Shhh... sleep... it was nothing..." He felt her sigh against his bare skin.

"You might feel a little better if you talked about them, Logan..." Panic at the thought of telling her he'd again seen her dead (?) on a floor somewhere welled up inside him, and he shook his head brusquely.

"Kiara... please... just sleep..." Another sigh, this one resigned.

"Alright... but -" His finger on her lips interrupted her.

"No. No 'buts', just sleep." He let his fingers idlely stroke the skin of her shoulder until he was sure she was again fast asleep. Then he lay staring at the ceiling, trying to slow the pounding of his heart. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her broken body lying there... Soundlessly, he slid out from underneath Kiara and gently lay her back down on the bed. If he wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon, he might as well let her sleep in peace. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he padded out of the room on silent feet and followed the hallway to the stairs at the end. The ones that led up to the roof...

The night sky was breathtaking, the cold air bringing the stars into sharp focus. He lay back against the rooftop and stared up at them. Mind endlessly replaying what he'd dreamed... hoping like hell that it wasn't some sort of premonition... He heard the footsteps before he even smelt him. Didn't move, just waited for him to get close enough so he wouldn't have to raise his voice to be heard.

"Stop hiding in the shadows, Cyke. I know you're there." The younger man slipped from the shadows surrounding the doorway to the roof and walked slowly towards him.

"I wasn't hiding, Logan. I just was wondering what you were doing up here - with no shirt or shoes on, and it being fourty degrees out..." Logan snorted.

"What are you - the fashion police?" Scott let out a strangled cough, one that sounded suspiciously like smothered laughter.

"No. Besides, Logan, your 'fashion' is beyond anyone's help."

"What the hell are you out here for, Cyke?" Logan growled, rubbing tired eyes. Even in the dim moonlight, he could see Scott's face lose its half smile.

"I'm out here because I wonder why a team mate feels the need to seek refuge on a rooftop in the middle of winter," came the solemn reply.

"It's none of your damn business."

"When my wife wakes up crying, and doesn't know why, it's my business. Why aren't you sleeping tonight, Logan?" All the anxiety from the nightmare, all the rage and frustration boiled over and Logan lept to his feet. He stalked towards a silent Scott, and jabbed him in the chest with one finger.

"*You* have nightmares, night after night, about your *wife* lying dead somewhere, bub, and then ask me why I'm not sleeping," he snarled, before shoving past the other man, slamming the door behind him as he descended the stairs back into the mansion.

Scott didn't follow him.

He crept back into the room and sprawled in the oversized chair near the bedside. Watching Kiara as she slept. Counting each time her chest rose with a new breath. Each time she moved her head. Each time she murmured something softly under her breath...

She'd only been back in his life for a few days now and he already knew he'd never be able to deal with losing her a second time. The first time, he'd been lucky in a twisted sense - he hadn't been able to even remember what he'd lost. But now, even with huge gaps in his memory, she'd slipped right back into the place in his heart that he hadn't even known was empty. He'd missed out on fifteen years with her. Fifteen years they'd lived apart in loneliness and pain. They had so much to make up for. A lifetime spent apart... There was so much he wanted to do, wanted to say to her and he hardly knew where to begin. And now, these nightmares had him terrified that he'd never get the chance.

Chapter 16

The feeling of being watched.... that's what drew Logan up from the depths of dreamless sleep. His eyes slid open, only to narrow against the bright sunlight of early morning. Kiara sat propped up in the bed, watching him. When she saw that he was awake, a smile spread across her face.

"Did you spend the whole night in that chair?" Her words reminding a slightly hazy Logan exactly where he was and he could feel the muscles of his neck and back groan in protest against the uncomfortable position he'd maintained. He reached up with one hand and began to rub the muscles at the back of his neck, as he rolled his head to the side and felt the vertebrae crack and loosen.

"Not all of it..." Her face sobered and concern filtered into her amber eyes.

"Do you want to tell me about that nightmare you had?"

"No." It came out harsher than he'd intended and he winced.

"Logan..." There was a taint of fear behind the worry in Kiara's voice and he felt his throat tighten in response.

"Kiara, no... please... I just... can't." His eyes searched hers desperately, willing her to understand that it wasn't her fault he wouldn't talk about it. That it was nothing she had done. Some of the tension bled out of her and a small smile again graced her face. But one that failed to reflect in her eyes. Those beautiful eyes, filled with such concern for him. For *him*. God, if she only knew...

"Well, alright. Be stubborn," she laughed. "I have an appointment with your friends to do some shopping today, or I'd spend all morning dragging it out of you."

"Now that sounds like it would've been fun," Logan smirked. Kiara's only response was a pillow launched at his face. He ducked just in time, a laugh rumbling up from his chest. He looked up to find Kiara standing in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips, staring at him in mock-anger.

"I swear, Logan, is that *all* you think about?!" Before she could react, he was out of the chair and had both arms wrapped around her. He buried his face in her hair and sighed.

"No, not all." He could feel Kiara smile against his cheek and then she was pushing away from him.

"I have to take a shower and get dressed - I don't want to keep your friends waiting." As she bundled up her clothes and made for the bathroom, she looked over her shoulder at his raised eyebrow. "And no, Logan, you can *not* join me..." She shut the door against his laughter.

While the water was running, Logan took the opportunity to explore the room a little more. The tall pine tree just outside the window still blocked most of the view of the forest surrounding the mansion, but Logan didn't mind. It also meant that anyone passing below couldn't see directly into his room. He pulled open the top drawer of the dresser to find a row of white socks. The second drawer revealed a number of non-descript t-shirts. Third drawer had flannel shirts in it... He glanced over at the closet doors and slowly walked across the floor to pull them open. Hanging in a neat row were several pairs of blue jeans. A knock at the door brought his head around quickly.

"Jesus Christ..." he muttered, dumbfounded by just how much the team had been prepared for his return. "Jean. It had to be Jean..." He swung the door open to reveal the woman in question. "Jean! What're you doing here?" She smiled at the touseled state of his hair and the rumpled sweatpants he wore.

"I hope I didn't wake you, Logan." He grinned and opened the door wider, motioning her in.

"Nah, was up already. Come on in." He closed the door behind her, and turned back to face her. She was looking at the still opened drawers and closet and smiling.

"Ah, good. So you found the clothes I left for you. Hope they fit you - I had to try to guess the sizes from memory."

"Memory?" he laughed, raising an eyebrow. Jean just smiled smoothly at him.

"Just who do you think undressed you when Scott and 'Ro brought you in that first night, Logan? With all those layers you were wearing, it would've made an medical examination nearly impossible."

"You just wanted to get my shirt off," he smirked and Jean let out another laugh.

"In your dreams, Logan. Now, I'm here because 'Ro and I want to take Kiara shopping." Her head tilted towards the closed bathroom door. "She still in the shower?" As she said it, the water shut off.

"Not anymore."

"Well, just let her know that, when she's ready, to meet 'Ro and I in the rec room, alright?" Jean said, as she opened the door to leave. "Oh, and Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to ruin ALL the clothes we bought you, ok?" Jean said, motioning with her head towards the floor near the bathroom, as she shut the door. Logan turned to where she'd indicated, to see his shredded shirt and jeans still lying on the floor where he'd left them last night... After his shower with Kiara... The sound of his laughter followed Jean down the long hallways.

***

When a giggling Kiara drove off down the long drive with Jean and 'Ro, Logan felt a moment of panic. Panic that they were separated, if even for only a few hours. Stuffing it ruthlessly down inside, he returned to their room, threw on a pair of sweats and headed for the gym.

Two hours later, after nearly knocking the punching bag off its hook and lifting weights until the veins on his arms were ready to pop through his skin, he felt mildly better. After returning the weights to their racks, he pulled the sweat soaked shirt off and headed for the showers. He'd only just finished changing into the street clothes he'd brought with him, when Scott entered the locker room. He looked up at him briefly, saw the look on the younger man's face and scowled.

"Don't you ever give up, Cyke?" he growled, as he threw the discarded sweats into the hamper against the wall. Scott crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

"You have to talk to someone sometime, Logan," came the quiet response.

"Yeah? Well why should you think it'd be you? And why the hell do you even *care*?"

"Because Jean is worried. She woke up crying last night, and all she would tell me was that you'd had another nightmare," Scott said, before adding quietly, "and because I know you won't talk to Kiara about it." Logan's head snapped up, about to tell him to go to hell, but his mouth just opened and then shut. He couldn't say it. Shit...

"Shit..." he repeated out loud, sitting down on the bench heavily. Rubbing his face with a tired hand. He felt Scott's weight settle on the bench next to him. "Don't even think about putting an arm around me, Cyke, or you lose it at the elbow... I am not having a breakdown," he growled.

"Wouldn't even think of it, Logan," Scott replied, smothered laughter evident in his tone. Logan looked up at him, eyebrow raised.

"Glad I could make you laugh, One-Eye," he muttered, a smile quirking his own lips.

"Always, Logan. Always. So... what about this dream?" Damn, he should've known Mr. Tenacious wouldn't let him off easily...

"All I can remember when I wake up, is seeing Kiara lying on some kind of tiled floor. Like in a lab..." He shivered involuntarily at the memories and tightened his grip on the jacket he held in his hands.

"Do you think it's more memories?" Scott's voice was slightly hesitant.

"No. Jean was there... and 'Ro.... and you, I think... It's not a memory."

"A premonition then?" Logan shivered again in fear.

"God, I hope not, Cyke.... cause in my dreams, I'm not sure she's breathing..." Foreboding danced with its icy fingers down the length of his spine. Unable to handle anymore, Logan stood up abruptly, swinging his jacket over his shoulder. "Alright, One-Eye, that's enough. I'm out of here..."

"Logan," Scott said, standing quickly. "Where are you going?"

"Relax, Cyke, I'm just going for a walk of the grounds, to clear my head. And Cyke?"

"Yeah?" Logan popped a claw and held it up before him.

"Not a word of this to *anyone*, you hear me? Not even Jean." Scott looked like he was about to protest, but then simply nodded. Logan glared at him one last time, before retracting the claw and disappearing through the door leading outside.

***

He returned to the room after his walk, and knew, before he'd even opened the door, that Kiara was back. He could smell the warm, spicy scent that was *her* in the air outside their room. He could hear the sounds of bags being opened and hangers rattling in the closet. He swung the door open and Kiara whirled to face him, a long midnight blue dress in her hand.

"Hey there, stranger," Logan laughed. "Have fun shopping?" Kiara blushed as she followed his eyes down to the bags that lay strewn across their bed.

"Um... yeah," she giggled. "Jean and 'Ro were very sweet - they helped me pick out a lot of it."

"I'll bet." Kiara scowled at his groan.

"If you ever want to see me in any of it, mister, you'd better keep your groans to yourself," she snapped, continuing to hang up clothing as she spoke.

"When were you planning on wearing that dress? Looks mighty fancy for dinner at the school." She shrugged and glanced over her shoulder at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, that's just in case I ever need something nicer to wear. What I was talking about is over there in the top drawer..." Logan walked to the dresser and pulled the drawer out. All his eyes registered was a lot of coloured silk and revealing lace. His mouth went dry...

"Complaining about me going shopping now?" Kiara snickered from behind his right shoulder. He swallowed and laughed.

"No complaints here..." Another laugh.

"Good," Kiara's voice sounded smug and self-satisfied and it made his hands itch to feel the sensation of that liquid silk covering her skin... sliding against it...

"Wanna try something on now?" he grinned, as he turned to face her. She swatted his arm playfully, but then her face grew serious.

"Not now, Logan. Later. Now, I'm suppose to meet Jean and the Professor in the medlab.... So they can look inside my head..." She couldn't mask the shudder that ran down her spine and Logan reached out quickly to enfold her in a hug.

"S'okay, darling, it doesn't hurt, I promise. And I'll be there with you the whole time." She nodded against his chest and then straightened.

"Well, let's get this over with before I lose my nerve." He looked down into her eyes for a moment longer, brushing the hair from her forehead. When a slight smile finally appeared on her face, he nodded and took her hand in his. Led her out of the room and down the long hallway that led to the stairs. To the elevator on the first floor... The one that led to the parts of the mansion that were hidden from casual eyes. The whole time he was torn between warring emotions. Burning to finally have a face, a name, of someone to track down. Someone on whom to take out all the frustration and rage of fifteen years without a past. And yet, looking down surreptitiously at Kiara's strained face, he desperately hoped that having to put her through all of this would be worth it. That having someone in her head, reliving her horrific memories, wouldn't damage her further. Wouldn't hurt her more than she'd already suffered...

Chapter 17

Jean, Scott and the Professor were waiting for them in the medlab. The moment the doors slid open to reveal the stark, sterile lab, with all its shiny metal surfaces, Kiara's grip on Logan's hand tightened to the point of pain. The overwhelming scent of her fear in the air almost drove him to turn right around and drag her out of there, and to hell with the whole thing. He was on the verge of doing just that, when Kiara turned her head towards him and gave a tiny shake of her head. Almost as if she'd known what he was thinking. When she turned back to face the others, there was a carefully arranged smile on her face. And yet her fear hadn't diminished, it seemed to grow with every step they took. Logan's brain was screaming at him, Again, Kiara turned to him, her grip on his hand bringing him to a sudden halt. She reached up with her free hand and tenderly brushed his cheek.

"Logan, I may be frightened. But I need to do this. No matter what," she swallowed, her voice shaky, "no matter what they find, I don't regret any of this. Not if it means having you back..." Her voice trailed off and she leaned into him, her forehead resting agaist his, as he tilted his head down towards her. They remained like that for several minutes, just staring into each other's eyes, until a polite cough from the Professor gained their attention.

"Kiara... if this is too much for you, we can hold off until you're ready," he said, his voice warm and kind. Kiara shook her head.

"No, I'm ready now. But...." she stopped, hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"Would it be too much to ask that Jean be the one who... who looks into my mind?" Jean started at Kiara's surprising request and then a smile lit up her face.

"Not at all. Jean is more than advanced enough in her telepathy to accomplish what you ask. I will link with her, to provide any necessary guidance, but Jean will be the only one linked directly with you. Now, it would be best if you were laying down for this, so please follow Jean and she'll help you get settled on one of the examination tables. It may take some time to sift through your memories and we would'nt want you to be uncomfortable during that time." Kiara nodded, and slowly letting go of Logan's hand, followed Jean towards one corner of the medlab, where a padded table stood alone. As Logan moved towards them, Xavier's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Logan, it would be best if you watched this from a distance," came the soft words.

"What?" Instant anger threatened to overwhelm Logan and he had to struggle not to jerk his arm out of the older man's grasp.

"Your emotions are very... strong. If you're too close to Kiara while Jean is linking with her, it may make it too difficult to tell Kiara's memories from yours. I'm not asking you to leave, Logan - I would never do that. I am only asking that you stay at least ten feet away from Kiara until it's over. It will make it easier on Kiara." Despite what his instincts were screaming at him, Logan nodded reluctantly. With one last glare at Scott, who'd stood silent for the whole exchange, he stalked over to the corner of the lab, yanked a chair over to the farthest wall from the table where Kiara now lay, and sat down with a sullen grunt. Jean, who sat in a matching chair at Kiara's head, looked over at him, a sympathetic smile on her face.

"I won't hurt her, Logan." His eyes narrowed at her words.

"See that you don't," was his growled response. Jean nodded once at him, and then looked back down at Kiara, her hands hovering at the sides of the other woman's head.

"Are you ready, Kiara?" A mute nod. "Okay, then close your eyes and try to relax. It may feel a little... odd, but I promise it won't hurt." Kiara obediently shut her eyes, and Jean placed her hands against the sides of her head and closed her own eyes. Time seemed to slow to a crawl in the lab, as the Professor sat in his wheelchair directly behind Jean, his eyes also closed in concentration. Scott leaned against the wall a short distance away, face expressionless as he periodically glanced over at where Logan sat hunched in the chair, eyes focused on Kiara's face. Minute after long minute passed in silence, turning into an hour. Then two, as the trio at the table remained completely motionless...

The silence was suddenly broken by a strangled sound from Jean. As tears began to trickle out of her tightly closed eyes to run down her cheeks, Kiara's body began to shake and tremble. Logan shot out of his chair with a force that sent it flying. Scott pushed off the wall and intercepted him halfway to the table.

"Logan, no - not while they're still both linked," the young man warned, a hand came up to press against Logan's chest and he stopped, staring down at it.

"Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me." Each word was bitten off by a fury that threatened to drive him right over the edge. Only the Professor's voice kept him from burying his claws in the other man's chest.

"Scott, let Logan go. They're both coming out of it now." Xavier's voice sounded weary and weighed down by a sadness that sent a shiver straight into Logan's soul. He looked over Scott's shoulder, to see Kiara sitting up on the table, her head bowed in her hands. Her shoulders shaking... Jean stood beside her, one hand on her back. Comforting... The smell of salt tears was so strong in the air, it stung Logan's nose... He began to walk slowly towards her, his legs threatening to give out underneath the unexplainable fear coursing through him.

"Kiara..." Her name came out as a whisper, but her head whipped up at the sound of his voice. The look on her face turned his feet to cement and he ground to a halt. Such fear, such pain... such resentment. She mouthed the word 'no' at him, holding a hand out to ward him off. Ward *him* off... He fought to breath with lungs that didn't want to work. Jean looked from him to the professor, tears still streaming down her own face as she pulled Kiara closer to her, and closed her eyes in concentration.

"Logan," Xavier said quietly. "It seems that Jean encountered more than just Kiara's memories of the experiment and of... of her miscarriage." The Professor's voice stopped, as if he found himself unable or unsure of how to continue. That frightened Logan. Frightened him badly...

"What else did she find?" He had to force himself to speak, to ask despite a sudden overwhelming desire *not* to know. Not to know what had done this to Jean and to Kiara... not to know what had put that look in her eyes when she'd seen *him*... Xavier took a deep breath and then continued slowly.

"Apparently, the men who were responsible for... what was done to you, they convinced Kiara to go along with them. You were evidently being too 'difficult' for them to proceed as planned, and they needed your compliance to continue. They told her that you'd been injured and were in serious condition. Once they had her inside the lab, they showed her to you. They... she... was raped and sodomized in front of you and they threatened to kill her unless they had your full cooperation. It was only when she healed immediately after their.. violations, that they discovered her own healing powers. And made her a part of their program..." Xavier's voice trailed off into silence again and Logan was vaguely aware of Scott coming up to stand beside him.

"Because of me..." Then his world shattered into a thousand splinters. He couldn't breath. His eyes stared out at them all but nothing registered. Only the pain. The unbearable, crushing pain inside that was tearing him into pieces. A part of him was dimly aware of Scott's voice, of the younger man's hands on his arms, trying to stop him as he spun and headed for the door. That same small part was able to keep the claws sheathed as he threw Scott against the wall with a howl of pain and ran. Ran out of that sterile, white room... Ran through the halls to the outside... Jumped on the motorcycle and tore off down the drive, voices shouting after him...

Trees whipped past him in a blur, as the bike screamed around the curves of the road. His heart was thudding in his chest and he couldn't see. Couldn't see the road, couldn't see where the bike was even headed. Didn't care... When the bike skidded out from under him on a patch of damp leaves, his body hit the paved road and he tumbled endlessly, finally coming to a stop against a tree on the side of the road. Lay there staring at the sky, feeling the ripped and torn skin healing, feeling the broken ribs and leg knitting back together... Felt his body bleeding inside from a pain that wasn't physical. A pain that his abilities could never heal. Because of him... It had been because of him... what had been done to her... all because of him...

Chapter 18

Logan was still lying there, staring at the sky, when the red jeep pulled up and Scott climbed out. He heard the gravel crunch under the other man's boots, and then Scott was kneeling next to him, hands gingerly running over his torn and bloodied clothing, trying to ascertain the extent of his injuries.

"Jesus Christ, Logan..." he heard him mutter, as he pulled back the flannel shirt to reveal the deep gash in Logan's abdomen that wasn't healing. "Hold on a second..." Then Scott's face was gone from his view. The sounds of metal scraping on pavement, as Scott muscled the banged up motorcycle into the back of the jeep... Gravel crunching again... *He's coming back now... Just go away...*

"Logan, can you hear me?" Pressure against the wound in his stomach... "Logan, what happened? This isn't healing... shit..." *Don't want it to...* "I'm going to move you now, Logan - I have to get you back to the mansion so Jean can stitch this up..." He felt the other man's hands lifting his arm around his shoulders, and then he was being pulled upright. Pain ripped through him and he closed his eyes against it. The numbness inside surrounded it and pulled it away. Far away like everything else... His legs wobbled and refused to hold his weight... *Just go away...* "Christ, Logan, help me here... you weigh more than the damn bike..." He could feel his legs beginning to move mechanically, step after step, against his will. He didn't have the strength to fight it. He didn't have the strength to fight anything. He just wanted to close his eyes again and make it all go away... *Because of me...* Pain started to well up inside him again, and he wrapped the blackness around him like a blanket, sinking into it until Scott's voice sounded like it came from miles away. Felt the younger man yank the passenger door of the jeep open and then felt himself being lifted into the seat, Scott groaning under the weight of the metal inside him. Felt the breeze of the door being slammed shut, and simply lay with his head on the headrest, eyes staring out the window. Heard the engine start up, tires squealing, and then landscape was whipping past at high speed. Pulled the darkness tighter around him until nothing got in... nothing at all..

Voices... Voices disturbed the numbness...

"Jean, Storm, help me... Found him at the side of the road... bike must've gone out from under him..." Door opened... He was lifted out again into a wheelchair... Smelled Jean and Storm... Smelled their fear... concern... *go away...*

"Scott, why is he like this?" Jean's voice, as he felt the chair begin to move. The sunlight against his lids vanished, replaced by artificial light as he was rolled inside. Down the hall.... smelled the wood polish...

"I don't know - he hasn't said a word or reacted to anything since I found him. He's got blood all over him, so the crash must've been bad. All the wounds seem to have healed except for one, on his stomach. It's bad, Jean, and it isn't healing like the rest..." Felt the wheelchair stop, his shirt peeled away again...

"Oh god..." Felt the wheelchair start moving again, much quicker than before. Scott's voice from somewhere behind him...

"Jean, why isn't it healing?"

"I don't know yet, Scott... He hasn't said anything at all?"

"Nothing, not a word. I know it has to hurt him, but he didn't even make a sound when I moved him. It's like he's catatonic or something." Elevator doors sliding open and then shut again. Movement downwards...

"Was there any evidence of a head wound?"

"Only the dried blood on his face you can see, but none in his hair. I don't think that's it, Jean."

"I don't think so either, Scott..."

"Perhaps he doesn't *want* to heal..." Storm's quiet voice, followed by silence.

"Is that possible? Can he control it like that?"

"If the will to die is strong enough, anything is possible." Storm... always so quiet... always so observant...

"Jean?" Fear leaking off Scott in waves now...

"It's possible, Scott... I've seen perfectly healthy people waste away to nothing in days," Jean... always hiding behind that reserved, medical facade...

"But why? Why would he?"

"I think we all know why, Scott..." Metal doors sliding open and shut... Sharp, sterile air...

"He can't blame himself for what they did, dammit!" Anger now... Desparate, desparate anger...

"I'll know more once I've run some tests - first I need to stitch this up and try to stop the bleeding. Scott?" Arms slipping underneath him... Lurching movement... Smooth, cold metal against his back... The sharp snip sound of scissors... air caressing his bare skin... The sting of a needle... The pulling of skin and muscle in his abdomen... *Go away..*

"Shit..."

"Jean?"

"His vitals are weakening... Scott, move out of my way, goddammit!" Plastic being torn open... Prick of a needle in his arm... Pressure as the fluid threaded its way into his veins... Sink deeper into the darkness... Don't feel... Don't feel... *Because of me...*

"They're stabilizing, but they're still thready." Tired sigh... "I have to go update the Professor..."

"I think there's someone else you're overlooking, Jean." Quiet, quiet Storm... *Just go away... don't say it...*

"She's been a mess, Ororo - I don't know if she could handle this right now."

"There may not be any other time, Jean." Sighing breath...

"Try to talk to her... I'll speak with the Professor. Scott, stay with him."

"Jean, I don't have any medical training..."

"I'm more worried about what he might do to himself, if left alone." Silence... Footsteps... Doors sliding open and shut... Silence... The scrape of a chair against a wall... Minutes ticking away... Ticking... ticking... Nothing to disturb the silence. Only pain. Pain and screaming... Eyes open to stare at the white ceiling. Slide to the left to see Scott, slumped in a chair, head down in thought. Quiet... must be quiet... Must not let him hear... Not until it's too late...

Stiff arm muscles flex and move... Hand creeping slowly... oh so slowly up his chest... Quiet... must be quiet... Knuckles rest gently against the tender skin under his chin... Breathing slows... Concentrate... A face swims across closed eyelids... Pain... *Because of me..* Feel the metal slide from beneath aching skin... Centimeter by centimeter... Feel pressure... pain... Blood begins to seep... Bite down to keep the pain inside...

"Logan!! Nooooo!!!" Time stops. Don't breath... don't move... don't listen... *Do it...Now...* Metal begins to inch forward... Warm, spicy scent swirling around him... Soft fingers grasping his hand tightly... Muscles tighten and lock...

"Logan..." Sweet, soft voice... Pain... pain... pain... *You... because of me...* "Logan, please don't... Don't leave me alone again... It wasn't your fault... I'm sorry... It wasn't your fault... Please don't leave me..." Salt water drops falling on his face... Eyes slide open again. To see beautiful amber eyes staring at him from inches away. No hate, no blame. Only fear, agony, pleading... and love. Undeniable, unquestionable love. Numbness begins to shred and fall away in tatters... Aching throat muscles shift, tighten..."Forgive me?" His voice sounded harsh and grating in his ears. Tears overflowed Kiara's eyes as she bent her forehead to his.

"There's nothing to forgive, love..." He felt the hot tears spill down his own cheeks.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Because of me..." Over his whispered words, he heard the doors slide open and shut again, as Scott quietly left them alone in the lab.

"Shhh.... Because of you, I'm alive and I'm no longer alone..." He let it go then, the pain. Let it wash away in the tears that mingled on his cheeks. Let it crumble under the stroke of gentle fingers in his hair. Let it disappear beneath the soft lips that kissed his own... Let it go...

Chapter 19

Jean returned moments later, with Scott, Ororo and the Professor not far behind. They found Kiara standing over Logan, his hand held tightly in her own, with tears streaming down her face. She looked up quickly when they entered, a flash of anger passing through her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me he was like this when you first found him?" Gone was the soft, timid Kiara the team had come to know. In her place was someone who suddenly looked a lot more dangerous. Jean's calm voice was the first to break the tension-filled silence that followed that furious question.

"Kiara, you were very upset at the time. You'd just relived the memories of a very traumatic experience and were reacting as if it had just happened. I didn't think it was wise to burden you with what was happening with Logan."

"Wise? You didn't think it was *wise*? Listen, I may not know you people very well, but let me tell you something. Fifteen years ago, I lost someone whom I loved very, very much. I spent that time living alone, hiding in fear from the rest of humanity, trying to deal with a hole in my heart that never seemed to heal. Something that, thanks to what was done to me, I couldn't even understand, couldn't remember why I felt like a part of me was missing. I'd given up on ever finding an answer when I was given a second chance at what I'd lost. Into my life walked Logan and I remembered, I *remembered* what I'd been missing, *who* I'd been missing. And now, because of your decision about what was best for *me*, I almost lost him again. Permanently." Kiara stopped speaking, her voice choked off by the angry tears that trailed down her face. Jean's mouth was hanging open in shock.

"Kiara, what do you mean?" Xavier's soft voice penetrated the rage that clouded Kiara's thinking and she turned to face him.

"When I came into the lab, Logan had his claws an inch deep in his own throat..." She ignored the gasp from Ororo and continued. "I only barely managed to stop him, to make him listen to me. To get through to him... " She glanced down at a still-groggy Logan and then returned her gaze to Jean. Her eyes were calmer now, her voice steadier and lacking the fierce rage she'd first spoken with. But her words were firm and not to be challenged. "Don't ever, *ever* again presume to know what is best for me when it comes to Logan. That is a decision that I alone am fit to make."

"Kiara, I'm sorry. I didn't know..." Jean paused, her own voice filled with regret and emotion. She took a deep breath and, when she continued, her words were filled with a sincerity that Kiara could not doubt. "You're right - I should never have presumed to know what was best for you. If it had been Scott lying there on the table, and someone had kept that from me, I'd be just as angry. I apologize and you have my word that it will never happen again." The tension bled out of Kiara's posture and she smiled at Jean. A shaky voice from the table interrupted any reply she would've made.

"If you two are done fighting over me, can I please get the hell out of here now?"

Jean walked quickly to his side, checking his vitals and then began to remove the tapes to look under the bandage on his lower abdomen. A sharp hiss and a muttered curse accompanied her actions.

"Jesus Christ, Jeannie, do you always have to use so much damn tape?! Shit, feels like you're pulling my skin off, not to mention the hair..." Jean hid a smile of relief and ignored his complaints.

"The wound is starting to heal slowly. How do you feel, Logan?"

"Well enough to spend the rest of my time recuperating in my room." Jean secured the bandage again and straightened.

"I don't know about that, Logan. Your colour's still a little off, and your vitals aren't as strong as I'd like to see. I'd prefer it if you'd spend the night here in the medlab, where your recovery can be monitored."

"Jean, you know how I feel about labs... I've spent as much time here as I need to. I'm going back to my room." Logan's voice was soft and measured, but Jean had no doubt that, short of chaining him to the table, he was leaving. She sighed and then nodded.

"Alright, Logan. I guess I can understand that. Besides, Kiara will be with you and she'll be able to find me if there are any problems." Without another word, Logan eased himself into a sitting position and then slid off the table. Jean frowned at the brief look of panic she saw fly across Kiara's face when he put his arm around her shoulders and leaned against her, but decided not to say anything yet. She'd already seen the results of her meddling - it was better to let them handle things themselves.

As Kiara helped a stiff Logan walk slowly across the floor, the professor spoke again.

"Logan, if you need to talk about-" Logan's gruff voice cut him off.

"There's nothing to talk about, Xavier."

"Logan..." Logan stopped and turned to face the man in the wheelchair, the look on his face blank and inpenetrable.

"I said there was nothing to talk about. Leave it at that." Then he continued on his path to the elevators, Kiara helping to support some of the weight of his aching body. When the medlab doors hissed shut behind them, Ororo's quiet voice broke the silence.

"Professor, do you think that they'll be alright?" Xavier sighed, his concerned eyes still focused on the sealed metal doors.

"Kiara's mind has undergone quite a shock from her reawakened memories. Logan has suffered immense physical trauma, as well as the emotional repercussions that drove him to attempt suicide. All we can do is wait and see, Ororo. And be here if they need us. Now, if you'll excuse me..." With that, he rolled out of the lab, concern still heavy on his features. Concern for two souls who desperately deserved peace but who he feared might not find it for long...

Chapter 20

Logan woke from a dead sleep with a start. For a moment, as exhausted eyes struggled to focus in the darkness blanketing the room, all was silent. Then the thrashing and sounds of anguish coming from the body beside him brought him awake with sharpened clarity.

"Kiara..." he said loudly, voice still roughened by sleep, as he reached out to shake her shoulder. She flinched away from him, her eyes squeezed tightly shut against whatever demons ran rampant through her nightmares. The bedsheet lay twisted and tangled about her waist and she began to struggle blindly against it. Feeling a surge of desparation and the urgent need to stop whatever was torturing her like this, he reached out again, grabbing her shoulder more firmly. He had a split second to realize that it might not have been the brightest of ideas, before her claws flashed out and buried themselves in his forearm. With instinctual reflexes, he jerked his arm away with a shout, and her claws tore free from his flesh. Cradling his throbbing arm against his chest, hissing against the agonizing pain even as the wounds began to knit closed again, he was struck by an outflung arm across the chest as Kiara tore free from the sheets and threw herself into the corner. Arms held out rigid in front of her, hands warding off some unseen threat...

"Don't touch me!!" she screamed, eyes still clenched shut. When her hands continued to wave blindly in front of her, and whimper after whimper issued from her lips, he slowly realized that she was still dreaming. Flexing his now healed arm, he climbed carefully off the bed and approached her, hands held out to his sides.

"Kiara... wake up, darlin'... it's just a dream..." His soft words had no effect on her, as her movements became more frantic.

"No... no... .don't touch me..." His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise as he watched the utter panic and pain flow across her features. The door to the room suddenly crashed open, and Logan whirled around to see Scott and Jean standing in the doorway in their nightclothes, mouths open in shock. Scott glanced quickly from the blood stains that clung to Logan's bare chest, to the still fresh blood that smeared across Kiara's extended claws.

"Logan, are you alright?" Scott's voice was low, unsteady - as if he weren't quite sure how to handle this. Jean stepped forward, her eyes furrowed in concentration, her voice vague and distant as she stared at Kiara.

"She's trapped in a nightmare..." Logan growled at her words - he didn't have to guess just what nightmare that was. As he stalked ominously towards them, both Scott and Jean took a step backwards, surprised at the wild expression on his face.

"Logan..." Scott began, before he cut him off.

"Get the fuck out!" Panic threatened to overwhelm him and every sound of terror that Kiara made pushed at his sanity. "I'll deal with this!" Then he was shoving them out of the room and slamming the door in their startled faces.

Turning on numbed legs, he walked slowly towards Kiara again, stopping ten feet away. Crouching down on his haunches, he tried to make himself seem less threatening as he started to speak soothingly to her.

"Kiara.... please, darlin', wake up... It's just me - Logan... I'm not going to hurt you..." As before, his words slid past her and she continued to whimper and moan, pressed as far back into the corner as her small body could get.

"No... no... no....." Her head whipped back and forth with each word, the panic on her face growing to frightening proportions as Logan watched helpless. When her eyes suddenly snapped open, he had a moment of relief - before he realized that she still wasn't seeing him. Then her eyes looked passed him, to the window, and he stopped breathing. "No!" she shrieked, so much anguish and torment in that single word, it felt like Logan was being torn apart from the inside. Then she was moving fast, her body throwing itself at the glass. Only the speed born of desparation made Logan quick enough to intercept her - his body slamming into her in a flying tackle, as he rolled his body beneath her to cushion the impact against the floor.

Pinning her struggling body tightly to his own, words fell from Logan's lips in a torrent, in a frantic effort to get through to her.

"Kiara, wake up... it's me... you're safe... no one's going to hurt you.... no one will ever hurt you again... please, baby, wake up.... please...." After what seemed like an eternity, he could feel her body go limp. Could feel hot tears bathing across his bare skin... Even with his enhanced hearing, he had a difficult time making out the words being murmured against his chest like a mantra.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so sorry...." Horror burned itself into his soul, as Logan realized that some part of her blamed herself for what was done for her. Some part of her felt the need to apologize to *him*. He kissed her hair desparately, rocking her shaking body in his arms.

"No, baby, don't... You don't have anything to be sorry for... Oh God, please believe me... " In the midst of his panic, in his fierce desire to take away all her pain, to make her whole and unscarred again, tears trickled unnoticed down his own face. Rage and hate surged up anew inside him - hatred for the bastards who had not only seen fit to tear apart and remake his body in their own idealized image, but who had dared, had *dared* to brutalize the one pure thing he loved. It set up a slow, smoldering fire in the pit of his stomach, a fire that would one day demand retribution. For the moment, though, he pushed it away, shoved it down inside, and concentrated on the broken woman in his arms.

Her tears had slowed to a stop, punctuated by the occasional soft sob, as she lay unmoving against him. With slow, careful movements, he brought his hands to her dampened cheeks and raised her face. Her eyes were red and swollen, exhaustion drowning out the pain he could still see lurking there. Bending his head to her, he kissed her forehead with slow, infinite tenderness.

"Sleep, darlin'... I'll take care of you..." As if acting as some release, her eyes slid shut at his words and her head fell to rest on his chest. Finally, her breathing deepened into sleep and Logan alone remain awake. Awake and staring out the window at the night sky, his arms still wrapped protectively around her.

*Logan...* The Professor's soft, diffident voice intruded on the welter of emotions going through his head.

*Leave us alone, Chuck...* He was too tired to hide his anger, but managed to keep his words civil enough.

*As you wish... I am here when you need me, Logan...* Then Xavier's presence in his mind was gone. Unmindful of the cold, hard wood digging into his back, Logan was still staring out the window when dawn brightened the horizon..

Chapter 21

In those quiet moments, as the first rays of muted sunlight filtered through the window and lay an illusory blanket of peace over the room, Logan found his mind turning inward. Turning to those few, tightly guarded memories he still had...

When he'd awoken, cold and naked, in the middle of the Canadian wilderness, he'd been little more than a nameless beast, trapped in the body of a man. He had stumbled through the snow for miles - his mind a roiling mass of terrified pain as sensory images bombarded it. How could a man... yes, he was a man... he remembered that much now... How could a man know, from smell alone, that there was a deer in the woods fifty yards off to his right, and not know his name? He remembered staring at the backs of his hands, knowing there was something there.. something else he should know... With a spasm of the muscles in his forearms, six gleaming claws had shot out from between his knuckles and he'd cried out at the sudden pain. Had stared down at the claws, his mind screaming that this was part of him, and not part of him. And then the images of a tub filled with liquid, of scalpels reddened with his own blood, of a champagne toast to the success of the experiment while he screamed in agony, slammed into his overloaded mind and he'd passed out face down in the snow.

He'd come to again and still remembered that he was a man. The name 'Logan' had flitted across his barely conscious mind and he'd latched onto it with desparation. He rolled over in the snow and the sensation of cold metal pressing against his chest had brought his hand up to find the source. Numb fingers closed around a chain and he lifted it to peer at the bright metal. Dogtags. Stamped with a series of numbers and one word - 'Wolverine'. That was him, somehow he knew this. But he was 'Logan', too. So he'd climbed to his feet and staggered onwards to the nearest cabin. Clutching those names to his soul, wrapping those shredded remnants of an identity around himself as a ward against the pain he could still feel inside. The pain and the terror...

The following years had seen a slow progress in discovering who he now was. Who he had been only came to him at night, in nightmares that brought him screaming and shaking out of sleep. In frightening images that faded to a dull haze in his subconscious the moment he was fully awake... With all that, the unfocused anger he'd first felt in that desolate forest had steadily grown into a rage that continually threatened to swallow the tattered vestiges of his humanity. And with that rage had come hate... hate for the faceless people who were responsible for what was done to him. The rage and hate had driven him to spend those years in constant movement, from town to town, bar to bar. Making a living venting that terrible anger on whoever dared to oppose him in the fight cage, spending most of his nights trying to fend off the nightmares with large quantities of alcohol and the occasional woman. But always, always he'd moved on after less than a week. Always chasing after a past he was desperate to piece together...

And now, here he was - fifteen long years later, lying on a cold wood floor, with his arms wrapped around a living, breathing part of his past. A woman whose soft, amber eyes soothed the pain, brought him a level of wholeness, of completeness, that he'd not felt in all the time he could remember. A woman whose love he hadn't even known he'd lost until a twist of fate had led him to her again. With that thought had come the memories of seeing her lying on that lab table, of her tears washing down her face, of the Professor's compassionate voice telling him the words he'd never wanted to hear. Telling him of what had been done to her, all because of him... And of opening his eyes, the sharp ends of his claws still cutting into the skin beneath his jaw, to see her own eyes staring back at him. Filled with love, forgiveness and pleading. Pleading not to leave her alone. Not again...

His arms tightened around her still body, a low growl building in his chest. Never again. Never again would he let them take her from him. He'd rather die first... He closed his eyes against the panic that surged through him, his arms tightening further as he buried his face in her hair. Never again...

Soft waking sounds and the stirring of the body wrapped in his arms brought him back to himself with a start. He lifted a hand to gently brush the hair back from Kiara's forehead and found her eyes open, looking up at him. Watched as the sleepy smile on her face died beneath the returning memories of what had happened... Her gaze dropped to focus on the floor next to them.

"Logan, I'm sorry..." The eerie echo of her tormented words from the night before sent a kiss of fear racing through him and his own voice was hoarse in response.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Kiara," he whispered against her hair. She slowly raised her head to stare at him, her pained eyes lingering on the dried blood stains that still graced his chest and arm.

"I hurt you." Those three simple words held such a wealth of torment and regret in them, Logan felt like his heart was being squeezed in a vise. He forced a small smile onto his face and cupped her cheek with his hands.

"I was stupid - I tried to wake you from a nightmare. You had no idea what you were doing, Kiara. You didn't mean to hurt me."

"No, I meant to hurt someone else..." Her reply was barely audible and before he could question her on it, she was smiling up at him. "Well," she said, a small glint in her eyes, "I think someone needs a shower, then." The teasing tone of her voice surprised him and he hesitated. A moment ago, she'd been wracked with guilt over hurting him, and now she was all smiles and mischief. He arched an eyebrow and stared deep into her eyes for a long moment. The smile remained on her face, but a hint of pleading crept into her eyes. Yielding to her unspoken desire to let things be for now, Logan grinned back at her.

"But the shower's all the way across the room..." She laughed and slapped him lightly on the chest, before rolling off him and climbing to her feet.

"Come on, you big baby - if you don't keep me waiting, I promise I'll wash your back..." With an impish look over her shoulder, she sauntered across the floor and into the bathroom. Logan chuckled low in his throat and padded silently after her.

By the time he reached the bathroom, she had the shower running and was in the process of pulling her nightgown over her head. The sight of the smooth expanse of her back sent an immediate shiver of lust rolling down his spine, and a corresponding tightening in his groin. He started to move forwards when another, stranger feeling swept over him. Guilt. The strenghth and shock of it stopped him in his tracks, eyes widened. Guilt... Why the hell should he suddenly feel guilty for wanting her? Before the thought had even finished itself, he knew part of the answer. Some part of him still felt irrationally guilty for what was done to her. For the brutal rapes she'd endured... And that part of him was terrified to touch her. To have any remnant of those horrible memories associate themselves in her mind with *his* touch. To cause her any more pain than she already bore...

"You going to stand there all day?" The surface of her words were soft, velvet-coated passion. But beneath that, he could hear the uncertainty, the nervousness, and that decided him. In a few short strides, he was behind her, his arms rising to pull her gently against him as his mouth fell to her bared neck.

"Just enjoying the view..." he murmured against her sweet skin and felt a tremor run through her body in response. His kisses grew bolder, as a soft moan whispered past her lips, and he slid a hand down to rest against the small of her stomach. Strong fingers stretching and kneading at the skin there, as lips and teeth bit and caressed a line along her left shoulder. She moaned again, shifting her hips to rub against him, and his arms tightened around her in response. Holding her more tightly to him as his kisses became more urgent and his hand fell lower... Suddenly, he felt her body start and stiffen. He lifted his lips from her shoulder, about to ask what was wrong, and then she was pulling free from his embrace. Her arms rising to hug herself as she turned to face him. The unshed tears in her eyes and the barely hidden fear on her face stole the air from his lungs.

"Logan, I'm sorry... I just... I can't... I'm sorry..." Her voice cracked and she grabbed up a towel, wrapping it around herself as she pushed past his rigid form. Stopping next to him to whisper once last time, "I'm sorry...", and then she was gone. Leaving him standing alone in the bathroom, hands clenched in fists at his side. With a groan of frustration, he forced his hands flat against the smooth tiles of the counter and stared into the mirror. Struggled against the rage sweeping through him at the damage that had been done to Kiara, and lost the battle when an image of her broken and bruised body flashed through his mind. His fist was connecting with the glass before he was even aware of it, and he felt the sharp relief of pain as it shattered. As the ragged edges sliced and tore at the skin of his hand... Felt frustration return as the wounds knit and healed instantly and he was left staring down at bloodied, unbroken skin. Heard the slam of the bedroom door as Kiara left and felt a pang of regret that she'd heard the breaking glass. The physical frustration he could deal with, that wasn't what was eating at him. No, it was the loss of trust. A trust that had come to be a part of him, something he didn't need to think about. Until now, Kiara had felt the same way. But the awakened memories of the trauma she'd undergone had damaged that trust. Had damaged *her* to the point where she wasn't even able to bear the intimate touch of the one person who would gladly die for her at the drop of a hat. Who never, ever wanted her to hurt again... Who had no idea how to undo the damage that had been done...

Chapter 22

The hot water cascading over Logan's head and shoulders did nothing to lessen the frustration and anger he felt inside. Frustration at the walls that had sprung up between Kiara and him. Anger towards the people who had laid the foundation for those walls... Rather than pursue her, Logan had climbed into the shower in an effort to give Kiara time to herself - in an effort to give himself the time to figure out what to do. And here he was, 30 minutes later, hot water turning to warm and no answers found. The only conclusion he'd arrived at was that they had to talk. For better or for worse, they had to sit down and face what had happened. Confront it head on and hope that they survived...

With a sigh, he shut the water off and exited the shower. Toweling himself dry, he shook the excess water from his hair and went in search of his clothing. Another five minutes and he was striding through the hallway in search of Kiara. After a quick survey of the rec room and the library turned up nothing, he headed for the kitchen.

There were only two people in the kitchen and neither of them was Kiara. Ororo sat at the small table, sipping from a cup of what smelled strongly of herbs. Scott was leaning against the counter, a cup of steaming coffee in his hands. Both looked up as Logan entered, a scowl on his face. A barely perceptible nod of his head acknowledged Ororo's presence and then he was turning to the young man who's blank face was devoid of any emotion. He opened his mouth to speak, to demand to know if they'd seen her, when Scott held up a hand.

"She went for a walk in the woods, Logan." The hand Logan was staring at gestured towards the door that led to the small gardens separating the mansion from the forest beyond. Narrowed eyes followed that hand up to the red lenses of the sunglasses that concealed the other man's eyes. They stared at one another for a long moment, until Logan saw a flicker of what suspiciously looked like compassion flicker across Scott's face. "She didn't look well, Logan. You should go after her..." Logan looked away quickly, hiding the pain that blossomed in his own, unshielded eyes.

"Yeah, I know..." The words were a soft growl as he pushed past Scott and out the door. The cool air was sharp and crisp, each scent that it carried rich and distinct to his heightened sense of smell. It didn't take him long to sift through them all and find the unique scent that was Kiara and follow it into the trees.

***

The path she'd taken was a direct one and it was obvious after only a few minutes of tracking that she either wasn't thinking about being followed or wanted him to find her. Neither option sat well with Logan - the first because it meant she could've been tracked by an enemy with less than half his skill. The latter because whatever reason she wanted him to follow her this far into the woods, this far away from any one else, could not be a good one. After another fifteen minutes of walking, he found her. Stepped around a large evergreen into a small clearing and there she was, sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree. He'd made no sound but she looked up as soon as he stopped walking.

"Logan. Sit down." She gently patted a space on the log next to her and Logan could feel the hairs on the back of his neck beginning to bristle with unease. Rolling his neck in a vain attempt to loosen rapidly tensing muscles, he walked slowly to where she'd indicated and stopped again. Stood there, staring silently down at her. She sighed and patted the log again. "Sit." So he sat. And the moment he was sitting, Kiara stood and walked a few steps away.

"Kiara..." he began, reaching out towards her, but she turned to face him, shaking her head.

"No, Logan. I have to do this my way. And I'll never be able to do it sitting close to you." The heavy, sad tone of her voice... it felt like he'd been kicked in the chest by a horse. The air seemed thick and impossible to draw into his lungs. All of this - leading him out into the woods for privacy, sitting him down while she stood away from him... Whatever words she was going to say to him, they were going to be painful ones. The fact that she was distancing herself from him already brought one thought rushing to his mind on a wave of fear. She was leaving him. It was the only thing that made sense... He began to climb to his feet, to protest, to beg, to promise anything that would get her to stay, but her next words sat him back down stunned.

"I remember everything that happened in the compound, Logan. After... after Jean looked into my mind, it was as if a floodgate had been opened. It all came rushing back. I was standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner. It was such a beautiful cabin, Logan. You'd built it for us, for the baby..." She spared him a sad smile before continuing. "You'd left the morning before and hadn't returned yet. But I wasn't worried - sometimes when you went hunting, you'd be gone for 2 or 3 days. So the knock on the door startled me. We didn't have any neighbours, far off in the woods as we were, no one ever came to visit. I guess they relied on that. After all, that meant there'd be no one who'd miss us if we disappeared..." Her eyes had taken on a far away look as she spoke and Logan had the feeling that she wasn't seeing the clearing or even him anymore. She was in a different time, a different place. As she continued to speak, he closed his eyes against the tightness in his chest, against the urge to jump to his feet and clamp a hand over her mouth. Prevent her taking them both down a path that only meant pain. But she'd said she needed to do this and, in the end, he only remained where he was. Gripping the log with white knuckled hands as she went on.

"I answered the door and was surprised to find men in uniform standing there. Before I could ask what they wanted, one of them told me that you'd been terribly injured. That you needed me and that they were there to take me to you. I didn't think, Logan. I didn't think to ask what had happened or why the military would be involved. I just thought of you lying somewhere, hurt or dying, and I panicked. When I turned around to grab my coat, I felt a sharp sting on the back of my neck." She paused for a moment, one hand trailing up to rub at the unbroken skin at the nape of her neck. "The next thing I was aware of, I was being dragged through these long, cold corridors and into a closely guarded room. There were more soldiers in the room, but this time, there were highranking officers as well. I heard one of them addressed as 'Colonel', by one of the men who held me. He turned to face me, and that's when I saw you. You were strapped to a chair, dried blood on the side of your face and your clothing replaced by what looked like a hospital gown. As I looked at you, still confused and dazed by the drugs they'd used on me, I watched the rage on your face die. Watched it be replaced by fear the likes of which I'd never seen you show before. And you began to babble then, something about doing whatever they wanted. That they only needed you, that they didn't need me..."

Logan was shaking his head violently by this time, fighting against the memories that hovered at the edge of his mind. "No... no more..." Kiara's voice faltered at his whispered plea, but nonetheless continued. Growing colder and almost analytical. As if she could distance herself from the words she was speaking.

"The Colonel said they needed your full cooperation to be 'assured', that a demonstration of what would happen if they didn't have it was in order. So, while two of them held your head motionless, they pushed me down onto the floor. And then they raped me. One after the other... and over all the pain, over all my cries to stop, to please stop, I could hear you screaming... You were still screaming when they dragged me from the room again, and threw me into a cell. I remember curling up in the corner of that cold little box and trying to drag the pieces of my dress over me, even as I felt the wounds and the bruises slowly beginning to heal. I remember them dragging your limp body past my cell, to another one across the way. And I remember knowing when you regained consciousness again, because that's when the screaming started. You wouldn't stop, not even when they threatened you, so they finally hit you over the head with their rifles until you were silent. When they checked on me later, that's when they discovered that I had a healing factor too. That they could use me in their little experiments, instead of just using me as insurance against your resistance." Kiara stopped speaking then, and Logan raised his head to face her. There were tears trickling down her cheeks but her eyes... The pain he saw there... no one, no one should have to bear that kind of pain... No one.

"I remember the abortion, too, Logan. No amount of tears, no amount of pleading would even get them to acknowledge me. They simply strapped me to a gurney and wheeled me to their lab. You were already there. They were in the middle of marking lines onto your skin and, whatever they had given you, you could only barely turn your head to look at me. To watch as they cut the baby from my womb... It was a boy, Logan. One of them laughed and whispered to me that to me as they dropped the lifeless little body into a red bag. He seemed to like listening to me cry..." She shook her head slowly, the haze in her eyes clearing as she locked gazes with him.

"The rest, the experiments themselves, those you remember - even if only in your nightmares. What they stole from me, Logan - my innocence, my pride, my body... our son - I can never get back. Ever." Kiara slowly walked to where Logan sat, shaking, on the log, and dropped to her knees before him. Gripped his hands tightly with her own and waited until he tightened his own grasp before she continued. "But I'll be damned if I'll let them rule my life from now on. I will *not* let them tear us apart again. I will *not* let them prevent me from expressing my love for you in the most intimate way two people can, all because of their twisted and perverted agenda. But I can't do it alone. I need you to help me, Logan. I need you to help me reclaim *myself*. To show me that love can never be anything but right. Show me..." The fierceness in her voice had vanished, as her tone softened. No sooner had the last word left her mouth, than she was wrapping her arms around his neck and gently brushing his lips with her own.

Logan felt as if the whole world had split apart around him and was slowly remaking itself within his arms. The shuddering of his body against the pain of rekindled memories faded as Kiara continued to lick and nibble at his mouth. He let his own mouth fall open beneath her persistance and sighed as her tongue brushed against his. Cradled her face in his hands and began to kiss a path along her jaw line, feeling her body tremble against his as she straddled his lap. Only the scent of her arousal on the crisp air and the abscence of any taint of fear allowed him to continue. Allowed his own passion to respond unchecked. Gently, he lay her down against the forest floor and pressed his body against her. Felt her hands undoing the button on his jeans and then pushing them down past his hips, even as her legs came up to lock around his waist. Moaned long and low into her mouth as he felt those same hands guiding him into her, his hips beginning a rhythm as ancient as time. Heard her panting and moaning beneath him as he quickened the pace, finally crying out his name as lights exploded behind his eyes. Knew that there had been no pain. No terror. Only pleasure and love. And after all this time, he could feel the wounds inside them both finally begin to knit together and heal.

to be continued