Indomitable Will, Tender Heart - 13
Author: Taryn
Email: Write
Me!
Rating: Strong R (language - this chapter)
Disclaimer: Don't own them, yadda yadda. See Chapter 1...
Author's Notes: My (and,therefore, Marie's) observance
of Logan, here, was inspired not only by the years of comic reading
that I've done, but also by the fantastic 'Wolverine Origin' series
that's recently been introduced. He's such a multi-faceted
character and so many of his facets have yet to even be revealed.
I wanted to delve beneath the surface (i.e. the usual) and explore a
little bit of that. Hopefully, I did him justice!
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To the rare few that he allowed to get close to him, he was simply
Logan. But to the ones that had used him against his will,
altering his body and stealing his memories - leaving him enhanced but
broken and hollow, a mere shadow of the man he'd once been - he was
known by a different name.
Wolverine.
Marie was up before Logan and, having somehow climbed out of the bed
without waking him, she'd quietly taken a shower and changed
clothes. After laying awake most of the night - laboring to
process the myriad of thoughts and feelings and images that she'd
received along with his healing factor - she was now sitting in the
rocking chair, feet tucked up beneath her as she silently watched
him. Even in repose, there was an aura of danger about him.
While he was, indeed, a solitary, quiet man by nature, he'd obviously
been given the code name "Wolverine" for a good reason: he was
also wild, unrestrained and unpredictable. And that was on a good
day.
But at this moment, he looked so incredibly peaceful. It made her
heart ache, knowing that the only reason he was even able to sleep this
serenely was because of the touching he'd asked of her only hours
before. She knew he hadn't had many of these moments - not in the
last twenty years or so, and certainly not recently - and she was
fiercely glad to be able to give
him this respite, however brief, from his unrelenting demons.
Her fingers tightened unconsciously around the blanket she'd draped
over her lap as she studied the figure lying slightly curled on his
side, a few feet away from her.
He was an incredibly handsome man, in a rough, untamed sort of
way. Even after the short amount of time she'd spent with him,
she felt as though his rugged features were deeply ingrained in her
mind; the thick mane of unruly
dark hair, the sharp lines of his face, the strong cheekbones and
chiseled
jaw no less striking even though they were mostly obscured by the
almost
fierce-looking whiskers and sideburns. His aqualine nose and firm
mouth,
with piercing hazel eyes under thick brows. Although closed now, his
eyes were the most soulful and intense she'd ever seen. Even the
little
crinkles at the corners didn't do much to soften the impact of his
gaze.
Although she knew he had no telepathic ability, somehow it always
seemed
as though he was looking into her, rather than at her.
Her attentions gradually traveled lower, as she paused to appreciate
his broad shoulders, the swell of his biceps, the strong, furred chest
and hard, flat stomach with its ridges of muscle. His left arm
was angled up toward
the pillow while the right lay casually at his side, and she could see
the
slight bulge of the veins under the surface. One leg was still
covered,
but the other was twisted up in the blankets, giving her a good view of
the
firmly muscled thigh and solid calf, all lightly covered with soft,
dark
hair. She blushed, thinking briefly about what else lay beneath
the
rumpled sheet. With a mental shake - Down, girl! - her
gaze traveled upward again, lingering for a moment on his hands; large
and
strong, the gracefully-tapered fingers almost belying the existence of
the
deadly claws lying dormant just under the knuckles.
Marie tilted her head, studying him. At first she'd simply
assumed - as probably everyone did - that Logan was one of those rigid
types, hurt once or twice and now set in his ways and unwilling to
bend. But now that she'd 'absorbed' him and experienced his
incredible pain - almost firsthand - it was like looking through
a big picture window into his psyche. She knew all the years of
loneliness and self-imposed isolation - knew them, in fact, even more
powerfully and deeply than he probably did himself, for he'd never
known, or couldn't remember, anything else. She understood the
paradox that was his mind and soul. He was the embodiment of
feral urges and virile masculinity - he practically exuded it, owned
it, as if it
was exclusively his. But that was only on the surface.
Beneath the surface, the man known to most as Wolverine was a
juxtaposition of light and dark, of calm and ruthlessness.
Likewise, he was a man of passion - there was no middle-ground with
him, it was all or nothing - and it was only because of his strong will
and his sense of discipline that he'd been able to endure and survive
the hell he'd been through. His unique code of honor held him
fast to the higher moral ground. Without it, he would be no more
than a mindless predator, giving in to his animal urges and allowing
the Beast to rule the Man. He was complexity and simplicity;
forever sparring, both desperately trying to stake their claim on him,
but with neither ever completely winning the battle.
Even though he didn't - couldn't - remember his past, his mind had
somehow managed to retain vestiges of it. He had no real clue as
to where these remnants came from, how they almost always managed to
influence his decisions and affect his relations with others. He
appeared to answer to no one - to care about nothing - yet there was a
sense of nobility in the limits he imposed on himself, drawing lines
that even he would not cross, yet never understanding why he was so
compelled to enforce them. Marie knew how frustrated and angered
he was by this, always feeling like half a person, a hollow shell -
conditioned, programmed - not real. She knew that she
was probably the only other person who could even hope to understand
the
pain and the loss he'd endured, or the tormented person he'd become as
a
direct result of it. It was as if the anger and the melancholy
were all he had left to define himself by. Perhaps if he didn't feel so
incredibly alone - if there was someone he felt he could trust - it
would be easier for
him to deal with whatever lay ahead....or behind. The
overwhelming desire
to be more than he was created - manipulated - to be was the
driving
force behind the Wolverine. Marie now knew why Logan was a
realist
and not a visionary; he was convinced that he could never afford
to
be a dreamer himself, always shouldering the dirty deeds that no one
else was prepared to do. Even though he was well aware that it
usually made others revile him, he simply told himself that he didn't
care - that it was, ultimately, better that he do what he was best
equipped to do rather than have others suffer the pain and the guilt
that would inevitably accompany the action. Logan was used to
living side by side with life's hard realities;
let the dreamers hang onto their illusions as long as they were able.
To a much greater extent than he would ever admit to anyone, she
realized that Logan was afraid of what he would become if he ever gave
into the feral rage completely. He had unwittingly killed during
times when he lost control and - although the details might be lost to
him - the underlying guilt
was an increasingly heavy burden. Constantly seeking to reconcile
the
reality of his only vaguely-remembered actions with the degree of
morality that he was desperate to maintain, it was a delicate line that
he walked and
an exhausting one as well. He was forever at war with his animal
nature
and Marie couldn't help but admire his amazing strength of will and his
fortitude.
Logan's entire remembered life had been nothing more than a vigilant
struggle to fight the Beast that threatened to claim him, to walk the
path of honor and integrity as best he could, and to prove to himself -
if no one else -
that he was more Man than animal. Hot tears pricked Marie's eyes
as
the cold-hard reality of that fact impacted her: He'd been used
as
a tool, a creature to be controlled and manipulated by the government,
but
even more damaging than the physical horrors he'd endured was the
immense blow to his self-esteem. He didn't feel worthy or
deserving of love....wary of rejection and always fearful that the
Beast would rise up and overtake him if he ever gave in to his feelings
and allowed himself to care. Marie hadn't a clue how he had
managed to hold out this long and yet stay
sane.
She realized with a start that what she'd said to him the first evening
he'd spent with her, in front of the fire, was dead-on: while
Logan
might not be a nice person, he was a good person. Although he did
his
best to hide it, he had morals, needs and desires, feelings.... True,
he
was gruff, blunt and up-front with his opinions, at times even
downright
rude in his actions and his words, but those things were just a way to
keep
the world - and the painful sting of rejection - at arms length.
He
might be a loner by nature, but deep down she knew he harbored a
burning
desire to simply fit in somewhere - anywhere - and to be accepted....
..even
loved. More than anything, she wanted him to have the the chance
to
finally feel - and be - whole, complete. Never having directly
experienced
a loss of that magnitude herself, and even with him inside her head,
she
couldn't begin to try and fathom just how much that would mean to
him....to
finally have the missing pieces filled in and at least a semblance of
his
identity returned to him again.
But would having the gaps in his memory filled in only tear him apart
in the process? Marie wondered if either of them would be strong
enough to pick up the pieces? The price was incredibly steep, but
she knew she wanted to help give him at least that much. She
would have to find the answers - and the strength - somewhere,
somehow. For him. Fervently, she prayed that - together -
they would find a way to combine the
logic of his mind with the needs of his heart....that he wouldn't have
to
spend the rest of his days forever denying them both.
A low grunt emanated from the bed, snatching Marie out of her
reverie. Glancing at Logan, she saw that he'd rolled onto his
back, one arm thrown over his eyes. With a fervent prayer that
the memory of last night's events - coupled with waking up in her bed -
wouldn't make him feel too awkward, Marie swallowed hard, opting for a
light, teasing tone of voice.
"It's about time you woke up."
He frowned at her from under his arm. "Mornin's oughta be
illegal."
"Then you're in luck." She grinned, unfolded her legs from
beneath her and stretching out her small frame. "It's actually
closer to noon."
He grunted again, sitting up slowly and scrubbing a hand over his
face. "Hmmph. Yeah, well, when you've been up half the
night, noon oughta be illegal too." She was up half the
night too, dumbass.
Way to go....
Marie nodded in agreement, but her throat suddenly felt dry. ~ Just
be casual ~ "So - did you...um....sleep okay?"
He blinked. I slept great, darlin'. Layin' next to ya
and
surrounded by your scent...that was the best sleep I've had in forever.
"Yeah...."
She gave him a shy smile and he smiled tightly back, rubbing at the
skin between his knuckles. They were starting to itch, like they
usually did when he first woke up. Or when I'm on shaky
ground...
"Uhh...I, um --" Real smooth, Logan. Let's try
that again,
bub. "....I'm sorry, Marie."
Her breath hitched in her chest but she forced her tone to remain
calm. "For what?"
"For....you know, for, uh, fallin' asleep on ya like that --"
Marie grinned, expelling her breath in a silent rush of air.
"Well, you know, that was kind of the point!"
"I know --" He scratched his head. "...but I coulda maybe,
er...thanked ya or somethin'...before I nodded off..."
"Oh, that's okay! I'm just glad it seemed to help." She
stood up from the rocking chair, folding up the blanket and placing it
at the foot-end of the bed. Logan noticed, then, that she'd
braided her hair ("french-braid", he realized, wondering where he knew
the term from). It hung in one thick plait down her back, a few
white wisps floating around her face. She was wearing some kind
of fleece pants with embroidered trim and a dark red fuzzy
sweater. The sweater clung to her curves in all the right places,
and the scoop-neck allowed him just a peek at the beginning of her
cleavage. He jerked his eyes away, willing the tightening in his
groin to subside.
"Oh, yeah - it felt...." - Fantastic? Amazing?
Erotic-as-hell? - "....real good....and, uh, it helped a lot,
too." He cleared his throat. "I've never....I mean,
uh, no one's ever done that for me before."
~ I know, sugar. ~ "Never?" Marie's eyes widened,
pretending to be surprised. Not wanting to go overboard with it
and make him feel self-conscious, she looked around for something to
busy herself with, settling for re-folding the blanket at the foot-end
of the bed and pointedly ignoring Logan's raised eyebrow. "Well,
I'm, uh, really honored to be your first, then."
"Yeah...." He raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand
further on end, and she couldn't help chuckling to herself.
"Thanks." It was more of a grunt than a word, but his eyes were
bright and she knew he truly meant it.....even more than words could
possibly express.
"You're quite welcome, sir." Marie couldn't help teasing
him. Sometimes words between friends aren't
necessary. In fact, sometimes they aren't even adequate.
He continued watching her as she straightened up the bedroom and opened
the blinds a fraction to let the sunshine peek through. She could
feel his eyes on her and she sensed that he was thinking of saying more
about their
nocturnal activities, but she forced herself to go about her business
in
a casual manner, even humming softly for good measure. When he
cleared his throat, she felt her pulse begin to race. Uh,
oh....here it
comes. I'd better just head him off at the pass....
She turned to face him, hand on her hip and head cocked, as if the
thought had just occured to her. "You know what? If you
want, I could do that - massage thing - again....right now, even.
How about if I start
with your back and shoulders this time....?"
Logan's eyes widened and he started to shake his head. She could
see the pulse jumping in his neck. Oh, yeah, he's really
on-board
with that plan, whether he admits it or not.
"Nah, Marie....that's okay....you don't gotta --"
"I know I 'don't gotta', but I really don't mind, and
besides...." Marie wiggled her eyebrows at him. "...it'll
get your day off to a great
start, even if it is almost noon!" Is that - ? Yep,
he's smirking! Hah! More points for me!
Before he could lose the smirk and voice an objection, she scooted
around to sit behind him on the bed, positioning herself on her knees
so she could reach him properly. "Just relax, Logan....this'll
feel good, I promise."
Marie got right down to business, finding the knots and kneading, then
smoothing them out. She noted with pride that there were less of
them now than there had been only hours before. Still, she
lingered at her task, content
to simply breathe in the woodsy, tinged-with-tobacco scent that was
pure
Logan while relishing the feel of soft skin and hard muscle gliding
under
her hands. Mmm....he really does have an amazing
body. Absolute
masculine perfection.
Logan bit back a groan as her fingers worked their magic on his bare
skin. Her good intentions were sorely testing his already tenuous
control. Just relax? Is she kiddin'? Yeah,
it feels fuckin' amazin', but parts of me are likin' it a little too
much. Hell, I'm gonna be takin' matters into my own hands if she keeps
this up. He grimaced,
trying desperately to not think about her hands all over him and the
growing,
almost painful, interest in his groin. Maybe I oughta say
somethin'? Shit, I've always sucked at this whole explainin'
thing and now ain't gonna be any exception....but I gotta do somethin'
to take my mind off how this is affectin' certain parts of me and
everythin' I wanna do to her....
"Um...Marie? About last night --" his voice was hoarse as he
shifted nervously under her ministrations. Although unable to see
his hands, she knew he was rubbing his knuckles again because she could
feel his upper arms flexing rhythmically. Damn. I
should've known it was gonna
take more than just a little touching to get his mind off things.
"Please don't be sorry, Logan," she cut him off, kneading his back
vigorously. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for."
His head drooped slightly forward under her ministrations but Marie
could tell the subject was far from over. We're obviously
gonna have
to face this head-on if he's ever gonna get beyond it.
She took
a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing....
"Okay. Maybe you're right....maybe we should talk about
it. Was it your old nightmare, or the newer one? Cuz, well,
whichever one it was, I'd say you're making progress! I mean,
hey....you didn't get sick, and nothing got trashed -- "
He stiffened and a sudden tremor shook his body, vibrating up through
her arms. 'Gallows-humor'....definitely not the right
approach. Shit!
Time for some serious damage control....
"Logan, that was supposed to be a joke." She wrapped her arms
around his shoulders from behind and, while he flinched, he didn't
shrug her off or try to move away. "Uh, I have a big mouth
sometimes -- all right, a lot of the time....not a shock to you, I'm
sure - and I don't always remember to engage my brain before I
speak. Look - I'm really, really sorry....okay?
" Damn. He's all tensed up again. Now I've gone
and
done it....probably wiped out all the good I did for him last
night. Way to go.
"..'Ain't your fault. It's mine."
"No, it's not. It's nobody's fault, Logan." She hugged him
tighter. Good, maybe I didn't cancel out all my progress just
yet.... "You
can't help the fact that you have those dreams. You really need
to
stop blaming yourself for something that you have no control over."
He turned his head to look at her and the light rasp of his whiskers
against her neck made her shiver. "N-no, I mean...I'm sorry for
wakin' ya up and....m-makin' ya do - this - for me."
Marie blinked. "Oh!" I totally wasn't expecting
that. Wow, he can really throw me for a loop sometimes!
"Well, you, uh,
don't need to be sorry for that, either. You know I don't mind
helping
you out - remember our talk yesterday and the other night? In no
way,
shape or form did you make me do anything....no way, no how.
Whatever
I did, it was because I wanted to....because I was happy to. And
you
know what? I'm doing it again now for the exact same
reasons....okay?"
He threw a clearly skeptical look over his shoulder, but didn't argue
the point. Marie gave a satisfied nod against his neck and went
back to stroking his biceps. Whew, the knuckle-rubbing
stopped, so I think that all went over pretty well. Maybe we can
just put that whole issue behind us - for now, anyway - and concentrate
on nicer things? Mmm....and this certainly qualifies as 'nicer'
where I'm concerned!
As she continued to massage away his upper-body tension, she gradually
became aware of two things: one, that Logan wasn't 'purring' like
he'd done the other times, and two, that there seemed to be a great
deal more interest in his lower half than there had been
previously. While there was no doubt that he was enjoying her
attentions, but it was almost as if he was 'holding back' or his
thoughts were elsewhere. Uh-huh....and
I have a pretty good idea just what those thoughts are and where he's
holding
back, too.
Marie was trying her best to ignore the persistent tenting of his boxer
shorts, simply because she didn't want to draw attention to it and
cause
him any further embarrassment when, suddenly, it dawned on her that -
while
the reaction might be an involuntary one that he had little or no
control
over - there was also a damned good possibility that it was a direct
result
of having her hands roaming over all his body. Damn, I'm
creating
tension at the same time that I'm trying to relieve it!
As she worked her way down the thick muscles on either side of his
spinal column, she mulled over what she might be able - and willing -
to do about the problem. Okay: he's never going to be
able to completely relax as long as a certain part of him is
still....tense. And while he's an attractive guy and I know he
never had a problem finding willing partners
in the past, most of the sex that he got was of the 'quickie' or
'one-night-stand'
variety. Furthermore, his nightmares don't exactly make him a
good
candidate for a sleepover and, if you couple that with his amnesia and
his
not wanting to get too close to anyone because he doesn't know who he
is
or who to trust, it's a given that he hasn't had any sex in awhile, and
definitely
not recently. She blushed again. When Beth
said to make
sure I think this through, somehow I doubt that's what she meant....
At that moment, Logan let out another groan, his head lolling on his
neck, and Marie could feel her face growing hot; suddenly, insanely
glad she was behind his back so he couldn't witness it. The
throaty sound of his voice and his obvious pleasure at her touch - the
pleasure she was giving him - decided her. He'd never ask me
for it in a million years, but
I know he really needs this release. I'm just gonna forget about
all
those things mama said nice girls don't do, because mama was extremely
old-fashioned - not to mention close-minded - and this is just about a
friend helping a friend. Yep, just a little tension-relieving
from one friend to another, that's all it is. The fact that I've
fallen in love with him and I'm 'warm for his form' has absolutely
nothing to do with it....
She smiled, both pleased to have reached a decision. Great...and
just as soon as I remember where I stashed my emergency supply of
courage, I'll run the idea by him and see what he thinks!
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Posted April 2002
