FicWad

"Hey, kid."

Rogue froze where she stood facing the door, begging her mind to quit playing tricks on her. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. It couldn't be, could it? But then, the "stray dog" cracks the others made, the looks of mischief and amusement, all seemed to fit now. Slowly, she opened her eyes and turned around, trying - and failing - to still her quickening breath.

There he was, lying stretched out on the bed. Scott had been right; he looked like he'd walked all the way from Canada. She had to force her feet to move slowly, as he didn't seem to be in any condition to be pounced upon. But there wasn't much she could do. The space between herself and the bed was crossed in a matter of seconds. Seating herself gently on the edge, she reached out and stroked his rugged face with a gloved hand.

He smiled at her and reached up, clasping her hand in his. "I told you I'd be back," he said softly, gazing up at her with his deep brown eyes.

Her mouth opened and closed silently a couple times as she struggled for the right words. Tears of joy and relief filled her eyes and threatened to spill over. At last, she found her voice. "Logan, I... I lost the tag..."

The smile on his face only widened as, to her astonishment, he placed the missing dogtag into her hand. "I think you need to start wearing this, so that, if you ever get lost, people know who you belong to."

She smiled at him through the tears that were now falling freely down her face. Warm droplets landed softly on the back of his hand. It was now Logan's turn to be astonished as she slowly brought his hand up to caress her uncovered face. He waited - unflinching, unmoving, uncomprehending - but nothing happened. "Marie, what..."

Without saying a word, she pulled off her long gloves and clasped his hand in both of hers. "Professor Xavier has been helping me learn to control it," she said at last, holding his hand close to her face and relishing in the feeling of having physical human contact again after so long. "I don't have to be alone anymore. I don't have to be afraid."

"Marie, you were never alone."

She nodded, lacing her fingers through his. A thoughtful expression crept across her face as she gazed at the back of his hand. He pulled away uncomfortably, but she had already seen it. The set of marks from his claws were gone, and in their place was a long, ugly scar that ran the full length of his arm up to his shoulder, which was caked with blood. The other arm was exactly identical. "Logan, what happened?"

"Hasn't had time to heal completely yet," he muttered, shrugging and glancing away quickly.

"But what happened to you?"

"It's nothing."

"Logan..."

"I said it's nothing, okay? Just drop it, Marie."

The firmness in his voice brought her up short. But she wasn't about to let him get away with avoiding her. "Don't shut me out like this, Logan, please. It doesn't look like nothing to me. It looks like you got your arms stripped off down to the bone or something."

There was silence between them for a moment before he spoke again, his voice much softer. "Chewed off is more like it. Bone and all, both of 'em. Got jumped by a pack of raving mad wolves, tore both my arms off at the shoulder. I lay freezing in the middle of those woods for three days until they'd healed enough that I could move. I tried walking home, but only got about halfway before my strength gave out. Lucky for me, Scott and Jean were on their way back at the same time."

A look of horror fluttered briefly across her face as he finished. "Bones and all?" she breathed. "But... your claws..."

"Bones grow back, darlin'. Adamantium don't. The claws are gone." She glanced away, the horror turning to sorrow and sympathy. In an attempt to lighten the mood, he went on. "Well, on the upside, I can't hurt you anymore." There was no reaction on the angelic face. Silently, she stroked the back of his hand, dragging her fingers across his knuckles were the marks used to be. "Marie, please say something."

At last, she turned her gaze back to him and smiled. "Logan, it doesn't matter to me. Claws or not, I don't care. The important thing is that you're back."

"What I'd like to know is: How?" She hadn't heard the door open, but suddenly Scott was standing there, leaning on the door frame. The amused smile was gone from his face. "Where's my bike, Logan?"

Logan stared right back at him with the same dead-serious expression. The trouble with Scott was that you could never tell exactly where he was looking. All you could do was try your best to return his gaze. "I ain't tellin' this story twice," Logan growled. "So you find me the Professor, and then I'll tell you."

Scott gave a curt nod and left.