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Title: Alter-Eighteen:
Poor Little Rogue
Author:
Terri
Email: xgrrl26@yahoo.com
Rating:
R
Summary:
Alternate Version of events leading up to Eighteen Cities in Twenty-One Days.
Rogue isn't quite like everyone thinks.
Disclaimer:
David is mine, the others are not.
Archive:
Ask, and I'll be more than happy to provide.
Feedback:
Please? Pleasepleaseplease?
Author's
Notes: This was inspired again by my beta reading best friend (brbf), who
asked for a story where Logan never starts writing like he did in Eighteen
Letters. I got to thinking that a teenager who hitch-hikes to Canada is probably
something of a free spirit and a pretty strong person. My brbf also mentioned
how, in the movie, Rogue seems less concerned with Logan than he with her.
I mean, she's just chillin', taking classes and playing foosball, and he's
all about "where's Rogue?" every minute of the day. Kinda makes you wonder
if she's as into him as everyone thinks......
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She knew
what they all thought. Poor little Rogue, pining away for Logan and wearing
those tags of his everywhere, poor little Rogue with a crush on Logan. Logan
who lusted after Jean, Logan who's probably been screwing strippers and hookers
nonstop since he left. She didn't really care to correct them. Didn't feel
like explaining to them that a girl who'd set out for Alaska from Mississippi
with a bag full of clothes and a hundred and five dollars to her name wasn't
one to pine. Didn't feel like telling them anything about her feelings for
Logan. Didn't feel like reminding them that crushes were based on fantasy,
and that she had an awful lot of reality-Logan in her head.
It wasn't
that she resented them for thinking it, really. It was just....private. It
was a part of her that she kept to herself, a part of her that reminded her
who she was before she came to Xavier's, when she was new at being Rogue.
And the tags were just a comfort, a reminder that she had an ace in the hole.
A reminder that somewhere, he was out there, that she'd been his first (and
probably only) loyalty, and that he'd help her if she needed it. Sometimes
it scared her, to think that she depended on him for that, but then she reminded
herself that it wasn't some little girl fantasy or plain old wishful thinking.
He'd saved her life twice, and the Logan in her head gave her no room for
doubt that he'd do it as often as needed, and with no qualms whatsoever. That
kind of bond wasn't love, not romantic love with hearts and flowers and dashing
heroes and maidens in distress. It was something deep, primal, and sacred,
and to name it anything demeaned it. Trying to explain that would have just
demeaned it more, so she didn't.
The tags
were also a talisman of sorts, and a shield. A warning to anyone who might
think about screwing with her, a reminder who they'd have to answer to. They
put everyone on notice that she wasn't as alone in the world as she might
seem. They also tended to keep most of the boys at school away from her,
which was just fine with her. There were still some, though, who were eager
to help her get over her crush on Logan. When she realized that the spark
of recognition or synchronicity or heat that she was looking for would not
be forthcoming from them, she simply fingered the tags and put a far away
look in her eye. They got the picture soon enough. And she began to realize
that finding someone, someone she could see that spark in, was a very rare
thing.
So it came
as a surprise to Rogue as much as everyone else when she brought David home
with her. She'd met him in art class, and really talked to him for the first
time while they were in line to get coffee. He'd wondered out loud why things
had to be grande and venti, instead of small or large, and she let out a
laugh. They ended up talking for three hours over coffee, and the spark was
definitely there. He was cute and educated and witty, and he didn't flinch
when she told him she was a mutant, or what her mutation did. He must have
felt that spark too, because he asked her to head to his place and talk some
more, and the thought that he wanted sex from her never crossed her mind.
Instead,
she took him to Xavier's. She had her own room, but they lodged in front of
the TV downstairs. The TV stayed off, and they talked into the morning. She
noticed that he didn't hesitate to touch her, but that he wasn't doing it
carelessly, either. She liked that, that she could trust him to be careful.
She liked that he laughed at her jokes, and made her laugh in return. She
liked his brown hair and blue eyes, and New England accent. But more than
anything, she liked just being Rogue with him. He made her feel more like
herself than anyone had in a very long time.
Rogue took
him to early breakfast that morning, and made introductions, but not explanations.
David smiled politely and ate heartily, and very graciously answered the
not-so-subtle questions of her friends. At the end, when they had to leave
for classes, the Professor smiled at her, and Jean looked at her a little
sadly, and Scott's jaw was tense. She knew what it all meant - Charles was
happy she'd found someone, Jean thought poor little Rogue was heading for
heartache, and Scott didn't trust an outsider, a non-mutant, and thought
he must be after something. Rogue expected all of that, and the disappointed
looks from Jubilee and Kitty, who thought she was somehow betraying Logan,
when all she was betraying was their fantasy of how her relationship with
Logan should be. Logan himself was quiet on the subject, except for a whisper
in her mind, a ghost of a feeling that he wanted her to play it out, follow
her instincts.
She and
David were fairly inseparable since then. Their physical relationship progressed
quickly, and he was an attentive and generous lover. He began spending nights
in her room, making her feel beautiful and wanted and loved and cherished.
He always whispered that he loved her when he touched her, and she believed
it. After a while, she whispered it to him too, and stopped thinking about
how he made her feel and started thinking about how she could make him feel
wanted and loved and cherished. Logan was entirely absent from her in those
moments, and it was odd, but she welcomed more space for her in her head,
more space to fix these experiences in her memory and relish them.
Their perfect
and blissful existence lasted about nine months. The call came to Jean, and,
if Rogue had been able to choose who answered the phone at that moment, Jean
would have been relatively low on the list. She knew Jean thought that was
because of Logan, and maybe part of it was, because she didn't like wanting
Jean like he did. Most of it, though, was Jean's pitying looks and earnest
efforts to help her. For some reason, she thought for a second about explaining
that to Jean when she answered. But she just told Jean, in hurried and clipped
tones, that they'd been hit head on by a drunk driver, and that she was going
with David to the emergency room at Salem Center. Jean was starting to tell
her to stay calm and that she'd be right there, but Rogue interrupted to
say that all she wanted was for Jean to bring her some changes of clothes
and gloves, and a few toiletries. She'd be staying at the hospital for the
next few days.
Jean was
a little stunned, but followed her instructions. David had severe injuries
and some third-degree burns. He was driving, and the drivers side was smashed
up into a building when the car rolled. Rogue was mostly fine. She'd been
wearing her seatbelt, and had gotten David out before the car really caught
fire. She had a few scratches, some burns that might be hiding under singed
gloves and sleeves, and a concussion probably, but no way to know for sure
because she'd refused treatment at the hospital and also from Jean. They moved
David to the intensive care unit, and told Rogue to call his family if he
had any. He didn't. Rogue stayed with him for three days, watching him die
slowly. They talked about everything they needed to, and somehow having the
chance to do that made it a little better. When they talked about him dying,
she'd offered to touch him, to end it, but he didn't want that, and she probably
already knew it when she asked. She did touch him, just a little, when it
was almost over, so she could keep a little piece of him. When he sorted
himself out in her head, he wasn't angry about it, he understood.
Jean and
Scott and Ororo worried about her. She'd cried nonstop for three days when
she came home, sobbing hard enough to lose her voice completely for two days
after. In the midst of those first three days, she asked Charles for permission
to bury David on the grounds and to bury him herself. Somehow, he understood,
and agreed. He wasn't worried about her, but the others were, and so they
followed her out onto the far reaches of the grounds as she carried David
wrapped in a sheet from the linen closet and a shovel. They watched as she
laid him down and sat silently with him for almost an hour. They watched as
the sun went down, and as she finally rose and began digging. Rogue realized
they were there about halfway through - Logan had been coming up in her, strong,
since David died, mostly just watching over her as she went through what
she needed to - and stopped digging just long enough to cast a glare at where
they were concealed. If they could read her at all, they'd know it meant
that even if they stayed friends, she would never forgive them this. Now,
this moment, this last day with him wasn't just about David and her anymore,
it had to be about them too.
She kept
digging, waiting for them to decide whether to come out and talk to her or
to just go. Rogue was hoping they'd use whatever good sense they had and
leave, but deep down she knew they'd just have to "fix" her. Might as well
make the time in between productive, though, so she dug right along until
the three of them were within a few feet of her. She stopped digging but
didn't put down the shovel or turn to face them. She was breathing hard. Gravedigging
wasn't easy, on a lot of levels.
"Rogue,"
Scott began. Of course he would go first, he was always the fearless leader.
"We're worried about you." That wasn't new information to her, so she refrained
from comment. She could almost feel him looking to Jean. "We, ah, know how
hard this must be for you."
Now that
was new information, and, Rogue was pretty sure, inaccurate information. "How
hard is this for me?" She was still crying, and her voice was starting to
go, but she managed to get it out like a question.
She still
hadn't turned, and she knew they were glancing back and forth at each other,
casting about for an answer. Finally, Jean spoke, "We know how much you loved
David. His death was tragic, and I understand that you - "
Maybe if
it hadn't been Jean, she wouldn't have said anything, maybe she still would
have, she was never sure when she thought about it later. All she knew then
was that Logan was growling and wide awake now, confirming that she needed
them away from her, that she needed to be protected from them. She whirled,
fast, still holding the shovel. "You have no idea. How can you possibly be
so arrogant as to think you do? I'm not some child you are responsible for
taking care of. I live my own life. None of this is your business. None. It
is something private, something that is between me and David and Logan and
Erik. Not any of you."
"Rogue, this
isn't healthy -" Scott actually had the poor judgment to reach out a hand
to her, which she promptly smacked back with the shovel.
"Fuck healthy.
This is what I need to do, and I'm going to do it. Leave." That was part
Rogue, part Logan. David was sitting this one out, just kind of sad. Erik,
though, bubbled up a little too. She felt Erik whisper in her mind to Charles,
and she didn't fight him. If anyone could wrench these three apart from their
good intentions, it would be the Professor.
Which is
what must've happened, since they all got the distinctive look of hearing
a telepathic message, then looked at her with pity and fear, then left. She
finished digging, and sat with his body in the grave until the sun came up.
She told him how much she loved him, and how glad she was that he loved her
back, and that she'd never regret the time they spent together even though
it had ended like this and she was hurting now. Then, as the sunrise painted
the grounds in color, she did something she didn't know she could. She reached
out to touch David's bare forehead, and pushed the part of him that was in
her back out. She owed him that much, to bury him complete. She was following
her instincts and she knew it was right.
It took
her the whole day to dig dirt back over the grave, and she came back to the
mansion dirty and sweaty. No one said anything; apparently, the Professor
had had a little talk with everyone. She just collapsed into bed, cried for
one more day, then stopped. She stayed in her room virtually every moment
for the next week. The week after that, she got out of bed, packed a bag,
and stopped to tell the Professor that she needed to be on the road, needed
to be moving for a while. He let her go, but extracted a promise to return
in a month. She gave it, and accepted the offer of cash and a Jeep, then left
without talking with anyone else.
The month
on the road had been what she needed, and it had the side benefit of indulging
Logan's tastes - for bourbon and cigars, for movement and the open road,
even, one night in Calgary, for a curvy stripper named Bonnie. She enjoyed
it too, thinking how long it had been since she'd been made to have an orgasm
and how not-odd it was that a woman excited her enough to do so. As the month
closed, she felt like she'd sorted herself out enough to return, so she kept
her promise.
Logan came
home a few days after that, and people were mostly relieved. Kitty and Jubes
had some romantic notion that he knew Rogue was in trouble and was coming
to somehow save her and make it all better. In fact, it was sheer coincidence
- he'd gotten some info he wanted to give to the Professor, some files, and
was stopping in before heading out again. He went to the Professor before
looking for Rogue, and everyone must have bought into Kitty and Jubilee's
theory because they all regarded him as though he'd committed some offense
by doing so. But all she was thinking when she chanced past Charles' office
and saw him coming out was that she was glad he was OK. She didn't know what
she'd do if she lost him right now too. She needed her ace in the hole.
"Hey, kid."
He smiled at her easily, and, just by that she knew Charles hadn't said anything
to him about her. She gave a brilliant and generous smile in return, and
hugged him tightly just for good measure. "Whoa, you're gonna suffocate me."
"Nah," Rogue
smiled up at him, but didn't let go, "You're tough."
That got
her a wink. "How ya been doin', kid?" He reached out, tracing the white in
her hair. "They treatin' you OK?"
"Not as
good as you do," she bantered back. God, she had missed him. Missed this -
the kind of back and forth they'd had. She let him go a little, and they just
stood there like that for a few seconds. "Did you find anything?" Logan looked
down, and she knew that he had, and that he would tell her some of it but
not all, and later, not now. "Did you have any fun?"
At that,
he grinned mischeviously. "A little."
She stepped
away from him, breaking the contact entirely, and tossing a sideways glance
to Scott and Jean, who were approaching them from down the hall. Jean looked
radiant as always, and Scott looked slightly constipated, which was his usual
expression around Logan. "Hey," Jean called, "Glad to have you back." She
stepped up to him and hugged him lightly, and Scott shook his hand. Rogue
caught Jean's sad and somewhat apologetic glance at her and Rogue wanted
to tell her again how nothing was like she thought.
"I gotta
go," Rogue offered. "Catch you later?"
"Sure, kid."
Logan watched
her go, a ridiculously pleased smile on his face. When he turned back, when
Rogue was out of sight and earshot, Scott and Jean both heaved sighs and
worried looks in her direction of departure. Logan simply raised an eyebrow
at them. "What? Something wrong?"
The Professor
answered for them all. "Rogue has had something of a difficult time lately.
She's had some personal difficulties."
"Like what?"
Logan was on-guard now, and not subtle about it either. He stood up a little
straighter, major muscle groups tensed, his eyes narrowed.
"She'll tell
you when she's ready." The Professor directed the words to Logan but his
warning expression was for Scott and Jean. "She's doing much better now. And
Logan - it is good to have you back." With that, he turned and wheeled back
into his office.
"What the
hell is he talking about?" The Professor's words had ratcheted him up, and
he was unconsciously flexing his hands.
Jean and
Scott exchanged glances before Scott answered. "She's.....she needs to be
the one to talk to you about it, if she wants to."
"Somebody
hurt her?"
"No, not
exactly. She, uh, went through a difficult time, and we were a little worried
for her, but I think she'll be fine. Actually," Scott interrupted himself
as though the thought had just hit his brain, "it might be good for her to
have you here."
Jean frowned
a little at that, apparently not sharing her husband's assessment. "She's
vulnerable right now, Logan. You know she's always been a little taken with
you. Just be careful." Logan looked at her in genuine confusion. "She doesn't
need to be.....she just needs some time, Logan."
He honestly
didn't understand what she was saying, and it seemed tangential to the issue
of Marie being hurt or having a hard time, or whatever was going on. "I'll
talk to her." He turned, and followed her scent. He opened the door to see
her sitting indian-style on the bed. She looked unsurprised, but quirked
up a corner of her mouth and said, "I didn't think seeing you later would
come this soon."
He wasn't
amused at all. "What happened to you while I was gone?"
She sighed.
She knew someone would clue him in in short order. "Come in. Sit down. Close
the door." She patted the space beside her on the bed, and noticed that his
tension wasn't dissipating. Some part of her realized that it might be because
he thought she might not tell him. She wouldn't do that, she'd decided straight
off. They'd always been up-front with each other. The only question was how
to explain, and, not having been overly big on explaining herself ever since
she'd become Rogue, that was the hard part. She'd carefully thought out how
to tell him when she was on the road, because she'd felt closest to him then.
She knew enough to realize that he'd be told, and soon, after he showed up
again, and that Jean and Scott and 'Ro would give her the chance to tell
the whole story herself. At least at first. She exhaled as he sat, and began.
"A few months
after you left, right after I graduated, I met someone. His name was David."
"Did he
hurt you? Did he do something to you?" Logan was flexing his hands again,
and she knew that was a sign that the claws were itching to pop. She did it
sometimes too.
"No, no.
We started dating. I fell in love with him. Really in love, head over heels
in love, more in love than I ever thought I would be. We were together for
about nine months, and then there was an accident. We were coming back to
the mansion from dinner, and we were hit head on by a drunk driver. David
was killed. He's been dead for almost two months now." She'd settled on a
very simple, but complete explanation. She knew he'd ask what he wanted to
know.
Logan fidgeted
for a minute, then looked at her appraisingly. She schooled her features
into an open expression, encouraging him. "Was he a mutant?"
"No."
"Your skin...."
"Not a problem."
"Did he
love you too?"
"Very much."
Rogue felt the tears coming, and didn't feel the need to try to stop them.
"I'm sorry,
darlin'." He moved to put an arm around her as the tears continued to fall.
"Me too,"
she agreed, and let herself drop into his embrace. "What else?"
"Hmm?"
"What else
do you want to know? It'll be easier for me to get it all out at once." Gently,
encouraging him.
"Why are
they all so worried for you?"
She shifted
to face him. "There's a short, simple answer to that, and a long, complicated
one. Which one do you want to hear?"
"What's
the short one?"
"Because
they care about me."
He shook
his head a little. "OK, give me the other one."
Marie nodded,
and took his hand in hers. "When we came here, when everything that happened,
happened....No, let me start over." She gathered her thoughts for a few minutes
and he sat, waiting, and caressing her hand. "OK. You picked me up on the
road in Canada and saved my life twice. You risked your life in the process."
He was giving her a look that said - yeah, I know all this. "I didn't want
you to leave when you did." Now he looked a little uncomfortable. "Don't
feel guilty. See - that's part of the explanation, that right there. I didn't
expect you to stay, I knew you needed to go, and you promised that you'd
be back. I didn't want you to go, but I understood. But everybody else thought.....everybody
thought that I had a crush on you and that I was just heartbroken that you'd
left."
"You didn't
have a crush on me?" His eyebrow jutted up and she remembered how much she
missed that gesture.
"To be honest,
there were moments when I felt a little like that. Like you were some big,
manly god that saved me from certain death. Like I could just swoon into
your arms, like some romance novel heroine. But mostly, I didn't. I had you
up here."
He winced
when she tapped the side of her head. "Not too pretty, huh? Not like a romance
novel."
"No, not
like a romance novel. But I liked having you with me. You're still pretty
strong up there. I just meant that - I knew you. I didn't have some idealized
fantasy of you, I really, really knew you. So, no crush. Plus, when we first
met, you know, before we were attacked, we had a real relationship right from
the start. I - I don't know - it felt like I recognized you or something."
He nodded.
"I know what you mean."
"You felt
like that too?" Her eyebrows had creased, and the tears were leaving her
eyes.
"I'm not
really the kind of guy that just helps out random people."
"Yeah. Anyway,
everybody thought - oh, poor Rogue, having a crush on older, manly Logan."
"Why do
you keep calling me manly?" He was joking now, teasing.
"Are you
saying you aren't?" She said it with a big Marie smile. "Stop interrupting
and let me explain. Where was I?"
"I was manly
and you had it bad for me."
"Uh-huh.
Anyhow, I probably didn't help matters much by always wearing these," she
lifted the tags outside of her sweater, "but I liked having a reminder of
you. It comforted me to know that you were out there and that you'd help me
if I needed you. I know that the Professor and all of them would, but it's
different with you. I know you'd give anything, and that you'd do what was
best for me, not just what you thought was best. There's a difference." He
was looking at her intently, and, for once, she couldn't read him.
"So I wore
the tags, and everyone started thinking of me as this mooney little kid,
waiting for you to come back. I wanted you to come back, Logan, but I wasn't
putting my life on hold until you did." He nodded again, and his expression
shifted. "When I met David, well, I think that everyone thought - poor Rogue,
getting involved in a relationship with a normal human who obviously can't
really want her because of her skin. Poor Rogue, trying to forget Logan with
someone else. At least that's what they thought at first. And that kind of
pissed me off, but I didn't really feel like having a deep personal talk
about it. Besides, I was all about David then, and I barely noticed other
people, let alone gave a damn what they thought."
"But after
a few months, I think that everyone realized that I was in love with David,
and that he was in love with me too." She took on a naughty grin. "And, frankly,
we woke everyone on my floor up in the middle of the night enough to get
them to realize we worked out the skin issues."
Logan let
out a chuckle, almost involuntarily. A much darker expression immediately
washed over him, though. "You slept with him?"
"Yes, repeatedly."
"That's
not funny, Marie."
"No, it
wasn't, it was beautiful and perfect and - wait, I take that back, sometimes
it was funny, too." She laughed a little, but he still seemed disgruntled.
"Hey, don't tell me that you're going to have a problem with that. You call
me 'kid' all the time, but you have to realize......."
"It's not
that, it's just......" She let him trail off, waited for him to find the
words. "I wasn't ready to hear that, I guess." He rubbed her hand a little
more strongly. "Was he good to you?"
"Very. Logan,
you know I love you, right?" This conversation was already heading for the
surreal, but she let it out on instinct.
"Yeah, darlin'.
It's not about that. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm happy for ya."
He still looked tense, unsettled, though.
Marie closed
her eyes, reaching for him in her head, hoping for a clue. "Let me back up
a little. I didn't wear the tags just because of what I said. There's something
else too. It was a document." He looked at her quizzically. "It was proof
that I belonged to you and you belonged to me. It was true before you gave
me the tags. I think it was true the first night we were here, when you stabbed
me and I almost killed you. We bled for each other, and these tags documented
it. Am I making sense?"
"Yeah."
He relaxed a little as he said it. "I didn't mean to....."
"I know."
"Yeah."
She took
a deep cleansing breath. "Anyway, back to our story. After a while, I think
everybody realized that we were in love, and that it was real, and serious.
When he died, it was bad. I took it very hard. And I just hated that everyone
was trying to help me through it. All the kind looks, all the 'keep your
chin up, little buckaroo' pats on the shoulder, all the offers to talk about
what I was feeling. I didn't want any of it because it felt cheap. No look,
no talk was going to purge what was going on inside me, and I didn't want
it to. I didn't want it to because if I was in so much pain, it was proof
that I loved him that much too, right? I rejected everyone who was trying
to support me. And not just because of that. Because it was private, you
know? Because it was deep in me, and kind of this sacred thing that I didn't
want everyone to get a finger into."
She paused,
tried to center herself a little for what was coming next. "He was in the
hospital for three days after the accident. He was conscious, in and out,
for most of it. We said everything that had to be said, and I knew I had
to let him go. When he started slipping away, though, I panicked a little.
I couldn't let him go yet. I touched him, and I took him in right as he passed
away. It was weird. I don't think that I got weird because of it, but I know
that at least Jean and the Professor knew I did it, and it freaked them a
little. David....he didn't have any family, and I brought his body back and
buried him here, on the grounds. I wrapped him in my favorite sheet, and I
carried him out to bury him myself, out by the lake." The tears were falling
again, and she let them go. "The Professor understood that I needed to, I
don't know, get some kind of closure. But I think Scott and Jean, and Storm
too, were worried. They thought it was more than a little morbid. So they
followed me out and hid and watched as I started digging David's grave."
Logan tensed
again, squeezing her hand a little. She smiled. "Thought you might understand
why that would piss me off. I noticed them after a while, and they had to
be convinced to leave. I guess I'm still holding a grudge about that. I wanted
that time, the last time I had on earth with him to be just us, you know?
It was enough that I had to share it with you and Erik in my head. I wanted
it to be private, and special, and right. I wanted to let him go right."
A heaving breath steadied her a little. "Well, it got a little nasty, and
I think that freaked them out. Poor little Rogue - going nutty because she
lost her boyfriend, that kind of thing." She paused, debating whether to
tell him what came next. Clear hazel eyes convinced her that it was all right.
"Before I closed the grave, I put him back. I didn't really know what I was
doing, or that I could even do it, but I pushed him out of my head and back
into him. Not his body, he was already gone from there, but back into him,
wherever he was. It was absolutely the most intense, most emotional moment
of my whole life."
"Musta been
hard to give him up."
"Yeah, but
it felt right. I think I was supposed to." Logan nodded. "I came back to
the house, cried, locked myself in my room for a week, then split without
telling anyone but the Professor. I was gone for a month. I just needed to
get out. I think that worried them too - poor Rogue, can't even deal with
it. She's running, just like Logan. They forget that I was on the road and
running when you found me, you know?" That drew a smirk from him. "And when
I came back, I was OK. Really OK. I'd made my peace, you know? I think that
freaked them out most of all. Poor, emotionally unstable Rogue, trying to
put on a brave face, trying to smile through the pain."
"Are you?"
"You know
me. What do you think?" She tilted her head just a little, and looked at
him.
"I think
it still hurts but you're through the worst of it. I think you'll be OK."
"Yeah. So,
that's the long, complicated answer to why they're so worried."
"Makes a
little sense of what Jeannie said."
"Oh, Lord,
what did she say?"
Logan grinned
wickedly. "That you've always been a little taken with me and that I should
be careful because you're vulnerable. Not to hurt you."
"I should
get her back for that," Marie said good-naturedly. "I should go downstairs
and cry and hold on to your tags. Oh, woe is me, he does not love me, he loves
another." Marie lolled her head back and put her free hand dramatically to
her brow. "No, Jean, you cannot comfort me, for you are the one he desires."
She dissolved into giggles.
Logan laughed
a little too, but caught her gaze after a few moments. "You know, I do love
you, Marie." That he could say it so easily to her should've surprised him,
but didn't.
"Yeah."
"And, Jeannie,
she's just....."
"Yeah, I
know." She brought both gloved hands to his. "But thanks for telling me."
He nodded,
solemn. "You've been real straight with me. You didn't have to tell me all
that."
"I trust
you. And you know me."
"Yeah."
He reclined on the bed, gently laying her down at his side. "It's good to
be back."
Marie smiled,
snuggled into him a little. "You want to tell me anything about what you
found out there?" His body tensed against hers. And not in the good kind of
way, she thought. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"I didn't
find anything good. A few things, here and there, mostly confirmed what I
already knew or thought mighta happened. The government got a hold of me,
you know, before. I guess I worked for them for a lotta years, did a lotta
bad things. I think they wiped my head after I didn't do something they wanted,
or didn't do it the way they wanted, I don't know. I found some files that
I thought Chuck should see - looks like more recent experiments on mutants."
"Are you
going to keep looking?"
He brought
both arms around her in an embrace, and that surprised her a little. "Don't
know. Gonna go back out real soon, though."
She stroked
his arms, trying to comfort him. "Whatever you did, Logan, don't forget that
you did a hell of a lot of good too."
"You're
about all that's in the 'good' column, darlin'."
"Well, I'm
certainly the best thing, no argument there," she teased, "but you helped
put Magneto away, saved thousands of lives. And that was just one night."
He grunted
a little at that. "I guess."
"I know
you. I've seen everything in your heart. You're good. Believe that." He didn't
respond, except to hold her a little tighter, to lean his cheek into the
top of her head. "Hey, I think there's a hockey game on tonight. Flames-Maple
Leafs. Wanna watch it with me?"
"Up here?"
"Wherever."
"We can
have beer up here without Scooter bustin' ya. I bet ya have a craving for
Molson."
"Up here
it is."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He ran into
Scooter on the way back up with the beer. Lots of beer. He'd grabbed some
pretzels for good measure too. "Where are you going with that?" Leave it
to good old Scott to be beer policeman.
"Gonna watch
the hockey game." He moved past Scott and toward the stairs.
"Did you
talk to Rogue?"
Logan paused
and turned back to him. "Yeah." He was suddenly angry and couldn't put his
finger on why.
"How is
she?" He knew Scott was really asking if she'd told him.
"Fine." Logan
figured he'd take that as a "no," but he didn't really care, and he didn't
want to talk about it. Marie had obviously not been sharing with Scooter and
Jean.
"She's not
fine, Logan. She's in trouble."
"No, Scooter,
she's not." He began ascending the stairs again. That anger was jumping up
a notch.
"Logan,
just because she doesn't want to tell you what happened doesn't mean everything's
OK."
That snapped
something in him, and he turned back on Scott. "You shouldn't have done it,
Cyclops." He never tired of mocking Scott with his code name. "You had no
right to follow her out to the grave. That was her business." He headed upstairs,
leaving a shocked Scott at the foot of the stairs.
Logan cursed
and grumbled his way back to her room. The expression on his face was unmistakably
angry, and anyone else might've been scared when he opened the door looking
like that. But it wasn't anyone lounging on the bed and watching hockey,
it was Marie, and she just smiled. "Has the beer angered you?"
"No, Scooter.
Pain in my ass." He chucked one of the three six packs he'd acquired on the
bed, followed by the pretzels.
"He's very
protective of the beer. Doesn't want those of us who are underage to partake,"
she teased, snagging one of the Molsons.
Logan sat
beside her, leaning up against the headboard. "It's not that. He was asking
how you were."
"And that
pissed you off?"
"Yeah."
"Welcome
to my world," she snickered, and he finally lightened. "No score yet."
"Any fights?"
"Not yet."
"Good. Hate
to miss anything." He grinned at her, and she grinned back, and for the first
time in a long time, she really did feel OK.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Somewhere
near the end of the third period, there was a knock on the door. Rogue and
Logan exchanged a look before Rogue called, "Yes?"
"Ah, Rogue?
It's Scott. Do you have a moment to talk?"
"Can it
wait?" She asked it even as she roused herself off the bed to open the door.
"Uh, well,
I suppose, but....."
Rogue opened
the door a little, and stepped out, closing it behind her. She was not really
wanting Scott to see the many, many empty beer cans strewn around on her
floor. "What's up?"
"I just
wanted to apologize, you know, for anything we might have done to upset you.
I was talking to the Professor and thinking about everything that's happened,
and I wanted to make sure you knew we only were concerned for you, Rogue.
We didn't mean to make things worse."
Rogue looked
a little surprised, but had suspected that the Professor would have another
"chat" with them due to Logan's return. She just hadn't thought any of it
would actuallly get through to them. "I know that, Scott, and I appreciate
it."
He gave
a small nod. "So we're OK?"
"We're OK."
Rogue was struck with a mischievous idea as Scott turned to go. "Scott -
there is one thing." He paused and turned to face her. "Do you think you could
get Jean off my case? I know she thinks I have this big crush on Logan, and
don't get me wrong, he's real attractive and everything, you know, in a manly
kind of way." She heard a muffled snicker from somewhere behind the closed
door as she rolled her eyes a little to punctuate the comment. "But I'm really
OK with him. She doesn't have to protect me from getting my feelings hurt,
OK?"
"She's just
looking out for you, Rogue. He hasn't really made a secret of his feelings
for her."
"I know,
Scott."
"Doesn't
that bother you?" He took a step back toward Rogue's door. "I mean, I know
you said you don't have a crush on him but don't you have some feelings for
him?" She heard Logan come off the bed and approach her from behind. She was
sure he could hear this little conversation quite well through the thick oak
door all along, but now it seemed he was taking a little more interest.
"No, it
doesn't bother me, and yes, of course I have some feelings for him." Back
to perfunctory, non-explanatory Rogue. Scott had asked earnestly, and Rogue
was beginning to regret her little bout of mischief. This conversation was
quickly heading into territory she didn't want to be in.
"And you
don't mind that he leers after my wife like she's some kind of hors d'oeuvre?"
"Scott,
you know half the reason he does it is to get your goat."
"You don't
think he really wants her?"
"I didn't
say that. I said it doesn't bother me, and I was trying to subtly imply that
it's not doing you any good to let it bother you either. Do you honestly
think she'd cheat on you, Scott?"
"No, but
knowing she wants to isn't exactly a comfort."
"Maybe you
should talk to her about that."
Scott smirked
in a way she hadn't seen in a long time. "Now who's taking care of who?"
Rogue laughed
a little. "Keep your chin up, little buckaroo!" They both were laughing now.
"Oh God,
were we really that bad?"
"Worse,
even." She looked at him softly. "Thanks, Scott."
"Thank you."
He started toward the stairs, then turned, with a mischievous look of his
own. "And enjoy the rest of the game with Logan. You let him drink most of
that beer."
Rogue smiled
genuinely after him. She'd forgotten that he could be like that - joking,
teasing, loose. Well, loose for Scott. It was nice to see that side of him.
She turned and opened the door to find Logan back on the bed. "You heard
all that, did you?" He simply grunted. "Whatcha thinkin'?"
"Scooter's
not as stupid as he looks."
"He's just
trying to hold on to Jean."
"She wouldn't
cheat on him, darlin'."
"You sure
about that?" She looked at him appraisingly.
He shifted
to look at her directly, holding her gaze. "Doesn't really matter."
"Why not?"
"I wouldn't
do anything about it."
"Well, not
while she was married to Scott, but if she left him - "
"Still wouldn't
matter."
"Huh. I
don't really get that." Rogue lay down on the bed, trying to figure it in
her head. The Logan up there wasn't really helping out any.
"To tell
the truth, I'm not sure I do either. Yeah, she's hot as hell, but, she's
Jeannie, you know?"
"Not the
kind of girl you just sleep with? The kind you get serious about?"
"No, just....I
don't know.....she's more fun as a fantasy. The real thing....she's the kind
of girl that wants someone like One-Eye, someone stable and dependable. She'd
burn through me in a couple weeks, and, yeah, it'd be good and it'd scratch
an itch, but then it'd be over. What fun is that when I can harass Scooter
for life?" He grinned at her, and she returned it. Then his grin changed,
became flirty. "Besides, you're my only girl, baby."
Rogue smacked
his arm in response. "Oh, please! Are you forgetting I've got you in my head?
I wouldn't even know where to start with that one. And are you saying that
I'm NOT the kind of girl who likes stability?"
"That's exactly
what I'm sayin'. Come on, I might not have you up here, but you can't tell
me that seventeen year old girls who hitch to Canada and sneak rides with
metal-claw-havin', cage-match-fightin' mutants are all about safety and stability."
"Really?"
Her lips drew down in a pout. "Maybe I was just going through a phase," she
teased. "Maybe Scott has been a good influence, and now, instead of hitting
the road, I just, you know, make a quilt or something...." She was snickering
even before she finished.
"Oh yeah,
that's you. Can I ask ya just one question, though? Were you quilting out
on the road for the last month?"
She dissolved
into laughter wholeheartedly then. "Yes, yes, that's it," she choked out
between giggles. "I was quilting, touring the country's sewing meccas, yeah....."
He became
a little serious. "What were ya doin'?"
"Just moving,
thinking."
"Anything
interesting happen?" He settled a hand on her thigh, began stroking it a
little.
"Yeah, but
that's between me and the road." She felt relaxed, and his touch felt natural
on her. She told herself not to think about it, just to go with it.
"Aw, come
on, you're no fun."
"Something
did happen that made me a little curious, but I don't know if you'd wanna
hear it."
"Sure."
He could tell her mood had shifted a little, and he let his hand fall from
her leg as she sat up.
"I was in
Calgary, and I ended up at this strip bar." He arched an eyebrow at her,
and she shook her head in reply. "Don't ask. That's not the interesting part.
I ended up talking with one of the girls, Bonnie. I ended up taking her back
to my motel room."
"That was
nice of ya. Did she need a place to stay?" The look on his face was so clueless,
Rogue let out a laugh. "What?"
"Logan, I
meant, I took her back to my motel room." He still looked a little lost. She
decided to clear it up for him. "I had sex with her." That had his attention.
Rogue hoped she hadn't miscalculated. She didn't think he'd have any hang
ups about that, but.....
"Whoa." He
looked surprised, definitely, but not mad or disgusted or anything. In fact,
if Rogue hadn't known better, she'd say he had a little interest in there
too.
"I know.
I've never really been attracted to women, well, except Jean, and that's because
of you." Rogue paused to check his expression, and it was open, so she continued.
"I liked it. I don't think it means I'm gay - maybe it means I'm bi? It was
just one of those things. At first I thought it was because it might be too
soon after David for a man, and I haven't been with anyone except her since
him, but I don't think that's really it. Then I thought maybe it was just
you. You know, you have a real proclivity for strippers." He snorted a little
at that. "But I don't think that's it either. I just saw her and wanted her.
I don't know, maybe it's just that simple."
"Is it botherin'
you?" His hand returned to her thigh, rubbing in small circles.
"A little
just because I wonder what it means."
"Maybe it
don't mean nothin'."
"Do you
feel weird about it? Or about me telling you this?"
"A little.
About both." Seeing her frown, he explained, "Not because I think it's wrong
or perverted or anything. Hell, if you've got half of the shit I've done
in your head, you know I've never been uptight about sex stuff."
"Then what?"
"Worried
that I might've influenced ya. Not because I like strippers, but just how
I am with that stuff. Worried about you takin' random strippers home with
ya."
"You realize
the irony of that statement, don't you?" She smiled easily.
"Why did
you tell me?"
She shrugged.
"I was thinking about it. You asked."
"You've
been wide open with me tonight darlin'."
For the
first time that night, she looked disturbed. "You don't like it? I'm making
you uncomfortable?"
"Nah. Just...it's
a new experience. And I ain't exactly been an open book myself so I'm wonderin'
why."
"It's not
a quid pro quo."
"A what?"
"It doesn't
work that way, this for that."
"Hmm."
"You don't
like it." That time it wasn't a question, and she started to draw away from
him.
"Hey." He
stopped her by making the grip on her thigh firm. "Don't. I like it. I'm
just wonderin' what I did to deserve it."
"Deserve
it? I wanted to, and I felt like I could, that's all. It's not like there's
a merit review process."
"You're
not worried?"
"About what?"
He tossed
his head back and forth a little, apparently deciding. "That you're gonna
open up to me and all that and I'll leave again?"
"You told
me you're leaving again, a few hours ago, right here in this room." She looked
plainly confused for a moment, then something set in. "You think I'm telling
you all this to get you to stick around?" Now she looked taken aback, and
a little mad.
"No, no.
Well, maybe, yeah."
She shook
her head and took his hand off her. "You can be really stupid sometimes, you
know?" She said it with some heat, and he could tell she meant it.
"Not liking
the open bit so much just now," he countered, wincing.
"Why would
I want to make you stay?"
He looked
genuinely shocked for a split second, then averted his gaze from her. "Dunno."
He'd pretty much assumed that she'd want him around. Now he thought maybe
she didn't, maybe she'd be happy to see him hit the road again. Maybe she
liked him just in small doses. Shit, he lived in her head all the time, why
had he made the jackass assumption that she'd want to be double-teamed?
"Do you
think I'd enjoy holding you hostage, keeping you here when you really wanted
to be somewhere else?"
"No."
She sighed
in frustration and closed her eyes again, reaching out for her inner Logan.
This time, he was of a little help. "Not everybody wants something from you
all the time. I'm not being all open with you because you saved my life,
or as a way to guilt you into staying here. I'm doing it because it feels
natural with you. You're really the only person I trust like that, you know.
You leaving for a while won't change that. As much as I love being with you
and as much as I wish it could be you and me all the time, I know you well
enough to know you're just not built to stay in one place. You'd get restless,
and bored, and you'd probably start breaking things just on general principle."
Her tone had lightened a little, and she reached out to take his hand. "I
know that you'll be back eventually. Don't you think I want you to do what
you want, what makes you happy?" He gave a half-hearted nod, and still wasn't
meeting her eyes. "What?"
"I'm sorry
darlin'. I'm bein' kind of an arrogant ass. Just assumed you'd want me stickin'
around awhile."
"Did you
just hear the part of the conversation where I said I love being with you
and want you around all the time?" She sounded less mad now.
He looked
at her now, and gave a little half-smile. "Yeah."
"And you
translated that into me not wanting you around how?" Her voice was soft,
gently teasing him.
"Must be
that stupidity thing you're talkin' about."
"I didn't
mean it that way, and you know it."
"Yeah." His
hand returned to her thigh, resumed its slow caresses. "It's not too much?
Havin' me in your head all the time and then havin' me here?"
She looked
at him, one of those looks that went right down to the soles of his feet.
"I wouldn't have made it through losing David if I didn't have you in my
head. You always protect me, Logan."
He stopped
moving the hand on her leg, leaned on it for leverage, and slid up a little
to bring himself face to face with her. "Always will." He leaned in toward
her, and, for a moment, she thought he'd kiss her. He tilted his head, and
then he did kiss her, on the side of the head, just above her ear, safely,
against her hair. She felt it then, the spark, and she shuddered a little
in response. He stayed close to her, but didn't kiss her again. "Is this
OK, darlin'?"
She reached
out to touch him, finding his waist. "Yeah." They were breathing in synchronicity,
and she could feel the heat of his body. "Just, careful, OK?"
He kissed
her again, her neck this time shielded by her hair. Strong hands moved across
her back, holding her to him. She closed her eyes, taking in the sensation.
He laid one more kiss at the nape of her neck, then moved back to look at
her. Her eyes were soft, even. He could tell it wasn't sexual for her, just
affection, but he could also tell it went deep for her.
Separating
a lock of white hair and twirling it in his fingers, he just sat and gazed
at her a while. Finally, he said, "I'm leavin' in the morning." She nodded,
and her expression was unchanged. "You comin'?"
Her eyes
went wide, and she didn't try at all to keep the smile from her face. "Yeah."
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