Splintered Metal

On the day of their wedding, Marie and Logan discover just how deep their love for each other is.

Logan had always been terrified of confinement. While he could withstand enclosed areas with no problem whatsoever, as soon as his ability to move was taken away, Logan became frantic.

They had discovered that a few years ago quite by accident. He’d been hurt on a mission-- something quite normal for Logan --and Hank and Jean had tied him down on the stretcher in order to ensure that he didn’t move about on the trip back to the mansion. He’d regained consciousness and had gone quite feral until Marie appeared in his line of sight and began releasing the straps that held him to the stretcher. Almost his entire body had been scorched black by extensive burns from an explosion, but he had nonetheless pulled Marie into his arms as soon as they were free.

That was why Marie hated the thought of having to put him in a coffin and lower him into the ground.

It was wrong. Logan shouldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be dead. He wasn’t allowed to die. Especially not after they had just begun their life together. Marie was still in her wedding dress even as she stared down at Logan’s cold, dead body. It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. She was married to the man of her dreams, the person she loved more than anyone else in the world, and he was dead less than two hours after they had exchanged vows.

“Yer not supposed ta be dead,” Marie moaned, placing a gloved hand on his cool cheek. “If Ah thought it would do any good, Ah’d beat ya up for makin’ me hurt like this.”

The silence that echoed in the medlab’s operating room made Marie want to scream.

The most unnerving part of all was that there was not a single mark on his body. Logan looked just as perfect as he had the last time they had made love. No evidence whatsoever. In actuality, it was Marie that bore the evidence of the attack. Magneto and Creed had crashed their wedding and in the confusion, Creed had nearly disemboweled her.

Then Logan had healed her.

He had held on longer than he had ever held onto her before.

Too long.

And, unlike the last time when he had simply gone into a coma, all of his vitals had stopped. No matter how hard Hank and Jean had fought, they had been unable to get his heart started again. The attack had come two hours after the ceremony, but it wasn’t until three hours later that Logan had been declared dead. Despite everything they had tried, the doctors had been unable to revive Logan.

“My dear Rogue, I really must insist that we place Logan in cold storage,” Hank said quietly from the doorway.

Marie made a panicked noise and threw herself over Logan’s body. “No! Ya can’t put him in the fridge! Logan hates bein’ confined. Ya can’t do that ta him! Ah won’t let ya, Hank!”

“I understand that this is most difficult for you, Rogue, but it must be done,” Hank pleaded, stepping closer to her. “There is nothing that we can do to bring Logan back. It is impossible.”

“Ah will not believe that he is gone!” Marie shouted at the furry doctor. “Logan is not dead! He can’t be! Not now! Don’t ya understand, Hank? We just got married! Five hours ago Logan promised that he’d be with me ferever! Ya heard him say it! The words came outta his mouth just as surely as Ah’m speakin’ these words now! He can’t be dead!”

She would have gone on longer, but her tears had become so great that they prevented speech. Instead, Marie slid bonelessly from the table and was caught up by Hank at the very last moment before she hit the ground. She curled herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically, wanting nothing more than to feel Logan’s arms around her rather than Hank’s.

“Come now, Rogue, I shall take you to your room where you can rest,” Hank whispered in her ear as he began to carry her from the room.

Shaking her head, Marie squirmed out of Hank’s arms. “No.... No, Ah gotta say goodbye. Ah can’t leave him without sayin’ goodbye. Please let me down, Hank.”

Marie felt Hank place her on the ground, his hand steadying her at the small of her back. With tentative, uneasy steps, she made her way back to the operating table where Logan lay so still. If she tried hard enough, Marie could make herself believe that he was merely sleeping. That death had not found him. But then she would catch sight of the blue tinge his lips had taken on and know that it was a fantasy. That her beloved Logan was really dead and that nothing she could do would bring him back.

“Ah’ll love ya ferever, Logan. Ah promise,” Marie whispered, her lips a hairsbreadth away from his cold ones.

When she did finally press her lips to his, Marie heaved a loud sob. She should not have been able to kiss him so. When they had kissed in the past there had always been a scarf between them, protecting Logan from her deadly skin.

Now, trapped forever within her living tomb, Marie turned and left the room.

She didn’t look back for fear that she would never be able to leave if she saw him again.



Too dark. No light.

No light. No air.

Need air. Air to breathe. Air to move.


Can not move. Can not breathe.

Must be free.


They will come.

Pain will come.

Too much pain. No more pain. Must be free or pain will come.


More air. More room.

Still not free. Still not light.

Warmth. Need warmth. Her warmth. She will keep me warm. Need to find her. Need her warmth. No more cold. No more dark. Her warmth. Her light. She will be safe.




No more dark. Still cold. Always cold.

“My stars! Logan! How is this possible?”


Not her.

Need her. Only her. No one else.

“Logan, please sit down. You have just undergone a traumatic experience and can not possibly be well.... Good gracious, I must summon Rogue....”


Rogue was not right. Not a Rogue. There was no Rogue. Only....


Not Rogue! Not Rogue. Never Rogue.

“Yer the only one that knows mah real name. Ah haven’t told a livin’ soul since Ah left home. But Ah knew Ah could trust ya with mah name.”

Not Rogue.



Mariewarm. Marielight. Mariesafe.

“Logan, I would be most appreciative if you would sheath your claws. It will make this a much safer process.”

Mariewarm. Marielight. Mariesafe.

“Logan, do you understand what I am saying?”

Mariewarm. Marielight. Mariesafe.

“Ah’ll love ya ferever, Logan. Ah promise.”

“Logan, come back!”

Mariewarm. Marielight. Mariesafe.


Marie could not believe that he was dead. Logan was as close to being an immortal as there was so there was no possible way that he could have died before her. Marie wouldn’t allow him to be dead.

“But it’s true,” she whispered to herself as she sat alone on their bed.

Logan was dead. After all they had suffered through to be together, it had all been for naught. Two hours. That was all they’d had together. Even Scott and Jean’s failed marriage had lasted longer than that. At their wedding it had been three hours before Jean had been found in the closet with the usher. Still, they’d had three years of memories and Marie was going to count on those memories to get her through the long nights ahead.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Marie heaved herself off the bed and slowly made her way towards the bathroom. She needed to get out of her bloody wedding dress. While her insides were healed and just as good as new, the dress had been damaged beyond repair. It had been so beautiful when she’d put it on the morning. A form-fitting silk bodice without sleeves or straps and a flowing silk skirt. The material was pure white with pearls embroidered where the bodice and skirt met. In order to protect Xavier and allow Logan to place the ring on her finger without risking draining either man, Marie had also worn elbow-length opera gloves. The dress revealed a lot more skin than anyone would have expected from the usually covered Rogue. But Logan hadn’t been afraid of her skin and had convinced her to wear the dress that she had always dreamed of.

A dress that she never wanted to see again.

“Ah love ya so much,” Marie murmured as she stared down at her wedding ring. She and Logan had searched far and wide for their wedding bands. In the end, they had finally coming across a mutant with the power to manipulate metal and turn two pieces of adamantium into matching rings.

A part of Marie was glad that Logan had surprised her and taken off her glove in order to place the ring on her finger. Marie had been shocked at first, especially when Logan had accidentally brushed his finger against hers, but in the end it had been worthwhile since now it meant that Marie would never have to take it off. She could wear it forever.

Just as Logan would wear his.

Staring at her bloodstained face in the mirror, Marie haphazardly pulled her veil from her head. With it on she looked like the bride of Frankenstein. Slanted veil, white streaks in her hair and raccoon eyes from too much crying. Marie looked a mess. Nothing at all as she had been just a few short hours ago.

Still sniffling and whimpering, Marie removed the pins from her hair and slipped out of her mangled dress. She couldn’t stand wearing it a moment longer. She needed to be in her own skin and nothing else. Nothing but her skin, her wedding ring and his tags. At that moment it was all that Marie could bear to have on. Clothing just felt too restrictive.

“So I was thinking about something,” Logan mumbled, ducking his head down. “Thinking about it a lot.”

Marie grinned over at him, smoothing her fingers through his hair. “An’ just what were ya thinkin’ ‘bout a lot?”

The water pounding into her was warm and soothing. Taking hold of her loofa, Marie began to scrub at her skin as hard as she could. She wanted to erase the feel of Logan’s hands from her body. Maybe if she could forget what his touches felt like, it wouldn’t hurt so much to remember him. Marie wanted to keep her memories, but she didn’t want the pain they brought. Only happiness. That was what memories were for after all.

“About... well about... about us,” Logan stammered, still not meeting her eyes.

“Anythin’ in particular ‘bout us?” Marie asked lightly, never having seen this type of nervousness in him before. “‘Cause, Ah’ve gotta tell ya, there’s a lotta things ya could be thinkin’ ‘bout us. All good things, Ah hope.”

“It’s good. Only good,” Logan assured her, nodding his head. “At least I hope it’s good. To you. It’s good to me, but that all depends on what you say.”

Marie grabbed hold of Logan’s face and steered his face towards hers. “Sugah, yer not makin’ any sense. Nice, full, complete sentences please.”

“Marry me,” Logan spat out, staring at her hopefully.

Those two words that Logan had said to her so long ago were the two words that Marie had never thought to hear directed at her. When her mutation showed up, Marie had expected to spend the rest of her life alone. Then she had met Logan in a bar in Alkali Lake and for a while she had been able to hope.

“Of course Ah’ll marry ya, Logan!”

She should have known, though, that she wouldn’t be allowed to live happily ever after with the man she loved.

“Ah thought we’d have more than two hours t’gether, Logan,” Marie said to herself as she stepped out of the shower half an hour later.

Drying herself off quickly, Marie stepped out into the main room of their... her suite in nothing but her prison. It was the only place that Marie could wander about with so much skin bared. Logan had been the only one with enough courage to go near her naked skin. That was one of the things Marie would miss the most.

Showers together would be another.

So long as they were careful and not touching each other too forcefully they could both enjoy a shower together. The water acted as a barrier between their skin and provided they ensured they remained wet enough, neither one of them got hurt. It was a chancy thing because the water offered very little protection from her lethal skin, but Logan had always craved her touch.

Only now Marie was confined to a lifetime of solitary showers.


“Ah’ll love ya ferever, Logan. Ah promise.”

Need Mariewarmth. Marielight. Mariesafe.

Find Marie now.

“Hey, Wolvmiester, shouldn’t you be six feet under by now?”


Not Marie. Want Marie.


“Wow! Easy there, Tall Dark and Scary! I mean you no harm!”

“Jubilee, get away from him now! He’s dangerous!”

“Dude, when isn’t he dangerous?”


“Um, yeah.... Okay, I see your point. Good, Wolvie. No hurting the kids. Why don’t you just let me take you to Roguey?”


“Okay. Okay. Marie. I’ll take you to Marie. Now could we please do away with the claws?”


“And that’s a no. Okay, the claws can stay. Just don’t use them on me, big guy.”



“An’ Ah don’t want the world ta see me, ‘cause Ah don’t think that they’d understand. When everythin’s made ta be broken, Ah just want ya ta know who Ah am....” Marie sung to herself as she danced around the interior of the suite, imitating the plans Logan had whispered in her ear as they danced at their reception.

Logan had suggested they dance naked in their hotel room in Rome to this very song. And while she wasn’t in Rome and Logan wasn’t with her, Marie intended to carry through with their plans.

“Ya can’t fight the tears that ain’t comin’. Or the moment o’ truth in yer life. When everythin’ seems like the movies ya bleed just ta know yer alive....” Marie broke off with a sob at the end. Unable to continue with the song, she stumbled back into the bathroom, grabbing hold of her terrycloth robe that hung on the back of the door.

“Roguey, I hope your descent!” Jubilee called from out in the hallway.

“Go away, Jubes! Ah don’t want any company!”

Stepping back into the main room of the suite, Marie tied the sash on her robe and made a bee line for the bed. She just wanted to curl up and die. No more thinking. No more feeling. She just wanted to seep into a nice, deep haze where she didn’t have to think about Logan and the fact that she was a widow after only five hours.

Marie was about two steps away from the bed when the main door of her suite was more or less torn off the hinges. Spinning around, Marie barely had time to register what was happened before she found herself flat on her back with a very heavy person lying on top of her. A half wild person who should have been dead, to be exact.

“Mariewarm. Marielight. Mariesafe. Mariewarm. Marielight. Mariesafe....” Logan mumbled over and over as he nuzzled the side of her throat, protected by her hair.

“Oh Gawd!” Marie sobbed, wrapping her arms tightly around Logan and holding him against her chest. She clutched tightly at his unbuttoned shirt, pressing her face against his shoulder. “Yer alive! Oh thank Gawd, Logan, yer alive! Ya didn’t leave me!”

Slowly, Logan lifted his head from her throat. He held her head in his large hands, his hazel eyes trained on her face. “Never leave you.”

“Ah know ya won’t, sugah. Ah know,” Marie whimpered, nodding her head. She tightened her grip on Logan, pulling him back down against her. “Just don’t scare me like this again, okay? Ah don’t think Ah could take goin’ through this again.”

“Love you,” Logan mumbled against her shoulder.

Marie pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Ah know, Logan. Ah love ya too. So much.”


“Sugah, yer gonna be banned from the medlab if ya keep breaking so much stuff,” Marie mumbled sleepily, turning her head towards him.

Logan smiled at her and reached out to smooth her sweaty hair from her face. “Sorry, darlin’, but you know how I get.”

“Ah know, which is why Ah had Hank slip ya that mickey ta calm ya down.... Don’t laugh at me, Logan, ‘cause it worked. After the fifth one ya finally stopped breakin’ things. Now shut up an’ give me mah daughter.”

Pretending to be offended, Logan stood up and placed the tiny infant in his wife’s arms. She had been born almost a month early but Hank and Jean assured him that nothing was wrong with her. She was a little on the small side, but plenty big enough for her not to be in any danger.

Their daughter was proof of just how much he loved Marie. He came back from the dead for her. The final count had been three hours and forty-seven minutes. He had been dead for almost four hours, but still he had come back. Not even death would take him away from his Marie. It had taken several days for his mind to fix itself and him to push away his animal instincts, but in the end it was as though it had never happened.

Except in their memories.

“Ah wanna name her Iris,” Marie said as she gathered the tiny infant in her arms. “After our song. It’s what Ah was singin’ when ya finally found me an’ what we were listenin’ ta that night in Rome when Ah finally figured out how ta switch mah powers on an’ off. Ah’m pretty sure she was conceived that night.”

Logan grinned down at his daughter, running his finger along the back of her tiny hand. “What do you think about that, kiddo? Do you wanna be named after your Mom and Dad’s sex song?”

The End

Song Credit: Iris by Goo Goo Dolls

Email: crazyundeadfairy@yahoo.com