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“Fuck,” cursed a female voice, the unfamiliar gruffness in her voice at odds with her diminutive appearance. “This sucks,” Rogue or as it was right then, Logan had fallen, not for the first time on his/her behind while crouching down on his/her haunches to take a whiz.

“How do you women do this?” The words were spoken not to any one outside by to him/herself, a chuckle breaking from the answer that came from the said inner source.

“Yeah, but its so easy to just whip it out and do it,” the Logan part grunted in his usual, hard humor. He wasn’t trying to hide himself from Rogue, not that if was possible, after all they were sharing a body right now. “An’ you can also write yer name in the snow. You gals can’t do that. What will you do, hop around like a fuckin’ frog?”

Cleaning her behind, and the rest of her, Logan-Rogue stood up, the conversation continuing uninterrupted.

“Now, look at this,” Logan grunted as he tore out yet another strip of toilet paper. “With a dick you don’t gotta do this tear, roll and wipe shit. A couple of tugs and shakes, and you are set.”

His that remark seemed to elicit an ew from the by now embarrassingly red Rogue hiding inside her own body. (and also from a few readers)

“Now, don’t give me that ew shit kid,” Logan chucked the balled toilet paper into the stream he/she was positioned next to. Logan’s enhanced senses were on full alert for any approaching danger. It had been that way ever since they had left the base and embarked on their cross-country journey across America. They were headed for Canada, more specifically for the Alberta province. There Logan had a safe house of sorts, well; a two room cabin to be more clear, but it would get them away from these fuckers….at least for some time.

They couldn’t continue to remain in America, not with the rumors that the MRU, the Mutant Registration Act was close to being passed. The US government had also approached the Mexican and Canadian government to join them in an effort to cover the whole of North and Central America. ‘Like some fuckin’ NAFTA treaty,’ Logan growled to himself. The Americans also hoped that once the effectiveness of the Act was proven on their soil, their planted people at the UN would get an impetus in support of a worldwide implementation of the said act.

While the Mexican government had shown interest and joined the discussion to reach on the specifics of the Act, the Canadians had out right refused it, even after a warning from their neighbors to the south that in case any rogue mutants (no pun in-10-did), found their way to Canada and got out of hand there, only they would be responsible. However, as with their support of Vietnam War draft dodgers in the past and homosexual couple in recent times, the Canadians adopted an open door policy. Although they too stated any harm caused by a mutant, whether deliberate or accidental would bring them under the usual police jurisdiction, just like baseline humans and in no way could their lawyers play the accident card. In short, it was, you come to stay and you stay peacefully as other people, otherwise we get you.

Most mutants, except for the usual bad apples, were happy with such an arrangement, wanting nothing more than to have a normal life. After all, they too saw dreams of a house with white picket fences and two point four children and not of world domination…well, not almost all of them, not counting the Magnetos, the Sinisters and other shitheads like them.

----

Finally standing up, Logan-Rogue stood up, cracked her neck and once again checked the surrounding before starting on the return journey to the fleeing X-Men’s temporary camp.

-SHUCKK-

The bone on bone sound signaled the unleashing of the claws, which although bone and only two against the ‘original’ Logan’s three, were still lethal and capable of tearing the life out of the fucker they were out for.

“Get away from her,” both Ororo and Gambit looked up in surprise at the snarl, just in time to catch the lithe from of Rogue leaping out from the foliage to land a few feet from them.

“Rogue, Logan….” Ororo started and corrected herself mid-sentence remembering who she was talking to right now. Even though the form in front of her was that of young woman, its mind was that of an ageless feral, one who, as all the remaining X-Men knew by now, had laid a claim on Storm. She was his, just as the child growing inside, and no other male was going to take her away from him, let alone that two-bit two-timing Cajun.

“I told ya to say from her,” Logan-Rogue did not seem to take any notice. He/she had already had it out with both Gambit and Henry a couple of days ago. Henry because, in the animal, the Wolverine’s eyes, Henry was the prime competitor for his position as the alpha of the group, of his pack, not only because, just like Wolverine, Beast too possessed several animal characters, although his were slightly different than Logan’s. The fact that others listened to him and followed him did not get him any points in the Wolverine’s eyes. Sure, they listened to him too, but knowing that there was a male that could easily take his place in the pack and maybe even take his female, made his hackles rise.

Had they been in the wild, the Wolverine would have killed all such competitors, thus ending any possible threats to him, his female and his cub. It was only Ororo’s firm ‘scolding’ that kept him in control. The body and mind of the woman known as Rogue was a battlefield of sorts. Although, Logan’s complete absorption had all but erased any residual remains of anyone else that the girl might have touched or who might have touched her, sending all those parts of her psyche into a thought-tight box or sorts, it had left in its wake a rather confusing mixture of thoughts and personalities.

---

While the Logan part of her remembered and regretted everything, he had done to Ororo, and wanted to stay as far away from her as possible, the Wolverine part was complete opposite, always wanting to be close to his mate and unborn cub. That left the third and original residents of the girl/woman’s psyche, Rogue and Marie themselves.

For Marie, her Logan could do no wrong. Just as she understood that what Logan had done in the past, his first time with Weapon X, wasn’t any fault of his, so she knew and kind of understood what went down between him and Ororo. That being said, as a woman, she could empathize and even detest if not outright hate the man who committed such an atrocity against a woman. That is where the Rogue part of her came in. Having spent almost eight months on the road herself, Rogue had seen and experienced her share of living disasters and villains. She had also seen what a person is ready to do to save his or her life, or when they have no control over herself. After all, she herself had taken Logan’s powers that first night at the mansion when abruptly awakened from his nightmare, Logan skewered her.

As for the Wolverine, he was least considered with the whole legal and moral issues of his coupling with his mate. Being a creature of the wild, he/it did what his instinct told him to do. For him, it was, I chose that female, I made her mine, marked her and now is mine and carrying a child that is mine. That was the chief focus of his thoughts, mine.

With both Marie and Rogue taking care of the repenting Logan, the man, the Wolverine was free to do as it pleased….and right now he wanted to gut that red-black eyed fucker. Even his dislike of Gambit wasn’t completely his own, but a mixture of his wariness towards a male approaching his mate, Rogue’s sorrow and pain at what went down between her and Remy and Logan’s anger at ‘seeing’ Marie’s pain. She was the closest thing he had to a family, except for Ororo and the kid now, and he just as he did not want either Ororo or the kid to get hurt, he also did not want his other kid, his Marie to get hurt either.

---

“Logan NO,” Ororo stood up from her rock-top seating, stepping in between Rogue and Gambit. For his part, Gambit was both confused and angry. His emotional turmoil rose from having broken up with Rogue, something for which he blamed her feelings towards Logan. His empathic skills told him about the depth of the feelings that Rogue had towards Logan. What they did not tell him was even though those feelings were of love, it wasn’t the type of love she had towards him. It was the type one has towards a fellow family member, the type of love that he, Remy had towards his sister, his Stormy.

Also confusing him was his inability to relate and understand this new Rogue, or Wolverine or whatever it was. Although Logan’s personality was the dominant one, Rogue arose to the surface a couple of times during the last couple of days. This he had sensed from the sudden peaking of a feeling of hurt, regret and loneliness around him, which he had been able to pin point as coming from this mixture of Rogue and Logan. At one time, he had been fast enough to catch the same pain glimmering in the suddenly softened doe like eyes of the southern belle. However, that feeling and that look lasted only for a couple of seconds. As soon as Rogue sensed him looking back at her, she seemed to step back and allowed Logan to resume control, the softness giving way to cold hardness that was characteristically Logan.

---

“I asked him to help me,” Ororo’s words both surprised and slightly put off Logan, the confused grunt she got telling her to explain herself further.

“I was feeling tired and as he was going to the truck, I asked him to get me a couple of sleeping bags to use as a mattress,” Ororo clarified, pointing to the said bags, one of which was still grasped in Remy’s left hand.
“Hn,” was all the answer she got.

‘At least he is not attacking like last time,’ was the consolation that Ororo gave herself. She had been shock at what Logan had done, her mind seemingly closing off the feeling part of her brain, one that had begun to bubble up with a mixture of sorrow, relief, pain, regret, betrayal and love. If only she had stayed back and helped Logan. If only she had not been so closed off to him during their last days in the base. Why did he do it? Didn’t he care about her and about their unborn child? Of course he did not care. It wasn’t as if he wanted a child. He had just fucked her, raped her. It wasn’t as if he loved her or even cared for her. If he did, he wouldn’t have gone and died, especially at a time like this. No, he cared. That much was clear from his/Rogue’s reactions and behavior in the last couple of days. He/she was doing everything for her and for their child. She knew that because Rogue/Logan had said that clearly.

‘I ain’t caring about any of ya,’ she had said, her husky southern accent replaced by a familiar mixed Canadian one. ‘Fer me, its only Ororo and the kids,’ he/she gestured towards herself and towards Ororo’s still flat belly. ‘An’ maybe these two.’ He amended as an after thought, pointing towards Kitty and an equally surprised and for once speechless Jubilee. ‘The rest of you can go to hell for all I care. You wanna come with us, you follow what I say, you do what I do. If that ain’t okay with any of ya, you can go fuck yerself.’ That last bit was for Gambit.

So, now there were, halfway across Texas, traveling mostly by night, while laying low during the day. They had made a stop over, dumping the army truck for a civilian one. They weren’t going to keep one vehicle for more than forty eight hours, at the most. In addition, they were only going to ‘borrow’ from the middle-of-nowhere type of places, thus gaining them extra time or complete freedom from any chance of a police report being filed.

----

“Get away from her,” Logan/Rogue grunted a half-hearted threat. “You, yella, get here and help her,” she jerked her head at her former roommate.
“As you say high-lord of the backwaters,” Jubilee was deliberately keeping her tone light and lively. It was for her sanity as well as to keep things from getting too thick.

“Stop yappin’ an’ help her,” Rogue grunted, her peripheral vision still focused on Gambit, who, on Ororo’s instructions had angrily chucked the sleeping bag to the ground and stomped away to his own rock.

‘Hah, let him go,’ Logan told to Rogue, trying to assuage her pain. If only Remy had listened to her. If only she had not blown up on him. ‘He ain’t worth it kid,’ Logan scowled, swiftly correcting himself to he’s not that bad, at the sniffle he caught from the young woman hiding in her own body. Turning his attention back to Ororo, he softened his voice, while keeping a respectable distance, both due to his own guilt and because of Rogue’s deadly skin.

“Need anything else ‘Ro?”

---

About seven hours ago, near the now destroyed base,

“Hey, what is this?” One of the seven of a group of scavengers called out their ring leader. In his hand, he held a box, a small suitcase of sorts, almost like an old vanity case.
“Don’t open it,” came the yell back, as the oldest and supposedly, the wisest of the group started towards this new finding.

“What do you think it is?” A third man joined the duo, all three men looking intently at the perfectly sealed and numerical-code locked box.
“Must be something valuable,” the first man, the finder boasted proudly. “Maybe its gold or money. Lets open it.”

At first they tired by simply flipping the four side locks to open the box. When that did not work, they tried to enter random numbers in the nine-digit LCD screen. That, they gave up after the twentieth try.

“Hah, just shoot it,” a fourth man came forward, his homemade gun ready and cocked.
“Yeah let’s,” one of the third seconded it, stepping back at the same time.

BLAMM

“What the….” The mouths of all four men fell open as the contents of the now destroyed box spilled out. It was mostly ice inside it….ice and something else. Something that wasn’t of any use to them.

“Fuck, useless,” the ‘perceptive’ leader flipped his hand, starting to walk.

“Find something better than what looks like frozen cum.”
 

Note: Hope you liked this chapter too. Although I am slow in updating this fic, I try to make the chapters longer.

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