Chapter 1
"Science never solves a problem without creating ten more.” - George Bernard Shaw

An old country and western song warbled out of the nearby radio as Dr. Hank McCoy busied himself in the medical bay. He was sat at his desk, typing away at his computer as he hummed along under his breath. The X-Men fondly knew him as Beast; a large and ferocious looking man, though certainly betrayed his visual attributes as well as his namesake. He propped his wire-rimmed spectacles up the bridge of his blue furred nose. He pushed back from the computer, allowing the wheels of his office chair to carry him across the metallic flooring towards a nearby desk where he began flicking through some scattered documents.

The circular doorway to the medical bay parted with a quiet whirr, and Rogue made her way in with a cheerful greeting. “Hey, Beast.”

Beast quickly looked round, surveying Rogue over the top of his glasses, “Rogue!” he welcomed warmly. “You’re earlier than I expected. Our consultation is not until four o’clock.”

But Rogue shrugged, heading on over towards the large blue mutant, “Guess I’m a lil’ too eager.” She stopped besides his chair, folding her arms over her chest. As usual, the young girl was heavily clad in her protective clothing that was her only barrier for her dangerous mutation.

“Nothing wrong with enthusiasm,” Beast told her with a smile as he stood to his feet. He pocketed his glasses in the breast pocket of his laboratory coat. “Keeps us young.” He gestured politely to the leather-covered table in the centre of the room, which was situated around machines that beeped and flashed significantly. “If you wish to start now, please, make yourself comfortable.” Rogue offered him a smile as she made her way over to the table, easing herself up to sit on the edge.

“Couldn’t believe it when the Professor said you’d look into a way to control my mutation,” Rogue said as Beast moved over to the stainless steel sink to wash his hands. “I mean, you’re good at this stuff.”

“I’m sure Harvard thought that too when I received my PhD,” Beast chuckled as he glanced over his shoulder.

Rogue grinned at him sheepishly, looking a little awkward as she tucked one of her white streaks behind an ear. “You know what I mean..”

“Indeed I do, my dear,” assured Beast as he began walking back towards her. “I am going to try my hardest to find out a way to help you control your mutation, or in the very least scratch the surface of this unusual phenomenon.”

Deciding against questioning what he meant exactly, she went for the easiest approach. “How?” asked Rogue as she watched him curiously, her hands gripping the edge of the table she sat upon.

“Well,” began Beast as he pulled a trolley of medical equipment towards him, “first of all I need to examine your DNA structure, explore the recessive genes of your genetics and fabricate all the wonderful pieces together to see..”

Rogue leant forward a little, “Yeah?”

“.. what makes your mutation tick,” he flashed her a toothy smile. “Now, how have you been feeling lately, Rogue?”

In answer, Rogue shrugged her shoulders, “Alright,” she replied. “A bit rough, I guess. One minute I think I’ve got rid of a sore throat, then a few days later another one is upon me.”

“Ah, the common cold. A devilishly clever virus,” Beast said as he smiled at her encouragingly.

Rogue grinned a little, sniffing. “Yeah,” she agreed quietly. “But other than that, I’m fine.”

“Good,” Beast murmured as he readied a small needle in his large furry paws. “Now, Rogue, today’s going to be relatively easy. Just a blood sample is required, and by tomorrow we will have results.” Rogue mutely nodded her head in response, though eyed the needle cautiously as it shone in the white lighting of the medical bay. She automatically unfastened her jacket, pulling it off her arms. A sleeve was gradually rolled up past her elbow, exposing the delicate pale skin of her inner arm to him. Taking her actions as confirmation, Beast carefully settled the needle on the crease of her elbow join, swiftly locating a suitable vein.

Rogue flinched a little in discomfort as the metal spike probed into her flesh, all the while Beast taking care not to touch her dangerous skin. Rogue knew it was probably wiser to watch something other than the current activity, but her eyes were drawn to watch her dark crimson blood rise up the narrow needle in the smallest of amounts. And just like that, the sharp tip was removed from her skin and quickly replaced with a cotton wool ball for her to hold in place with a gloved hand. “That’s it?” she called to Beast who had bustled off with the blood sample.

“All done,” he confirmed with a chuckle. “Surely Charles informed you it wouldn’t take long?”

“Yeah,” Rogue murmured as she rolled down her sleeve. “But I thought it would be longer than that.”

Beast turned to face her, propping his glasses back on his nose. “Tomorrow will be. But the most important part is the blood sample, therefore it makes sense to test that first for any abnormalities.”

“What do you expect to find?” she asked, slipping forth off the table.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Beast replied as he glanced down at the blood sample he held in his hand. “But if I see any difference than that of standard mutant’s DNA, then I can explore it further.”

“Right,” murmured Rogue as she deposited the cotton wool ball into the nearby medical bin. “So, same time tomorrow?”

Beast nodded his head, “Of course. Have a good evening Rogue.”

“You too,” she replied politely, then making her way towards the automatic doors and out of the medical bar.


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A lonely light shone over a metallic counter as Beast worked quietly. Time had hurried by, spent with Beast reading up on Rogue’s documentations and her medical history. He had recently set up his microscope to analyse her blood sample and made his way over to begin his work. He lowered his glasses off his nose as he leant in towards the eyepiece, peering in to begin focusing on the cells displayed. His jaunty hum continued from the radio’s earlier show, filling the almost silent medical bar.

Beast pulled back from the microscope, noting details on a nearby notepad. He returned back to the eyepiece, expertly twisting the wheel on the side as he continued to work. Then, his tuneful sounds abruptly stopped as he froze still. He quickly slammed down his pencil, furiously leaning into the microscope as he hurriedly began twisting the wheel some more. Progressively, he straightened from the microscope, pulling his glasses completely off the bridge of his nose. His eyes were wide and staring at the wall in front of him unseeingly.

“It can’t be..”

Chapter 2
“Here let me observe, that for some time we had experienced the most uncomfortable weather as a prelibation of our future sufferings.” – Daniel Boone


Rogue was stood at one of the large windows at the end of a corridor, gazing out into the pearly blue sky. Sun shone down over the grounds of the mansion, causing the glass to gleam in its reflection. Her eyes travelled towards the horizon, where she could see dark clouds looming forebodingly in the distance. Rogue exhaled a low sigh, why did the bad weather have to ruin such a nice day? Her thoughts were disturbed as she heard footsteps behind her, and turned round to see Logan walking towards her with an unlit cigar jutting out of his mouth.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted upon pulling the cigar from his lips. “What y’doin’?”

“Nothin’,” she answered truthfully. “Just passin’ time till I go and see Beast.”

Logan canted his head curiously, “Ain’t you got lessons?”

A small chuckle sounded from Rogue, “It’s a Saturday,” she reminded him, “There’s no lessons at the weekend.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘course,” Logan replied thoughtfully, twisting his cigar in his fingers. His eyes roamed over the top of her head to look out of the window. Already the clouds were prowling over the rooftops, and the first signs of rain hit the glass window. “Storm’s comin’.”

For a moment, Rogue glanced around, expecting to find their resident weather mutant making her way over. She then gave a quiet chuckle upon realisation. “I know. Looks like it’ll be pretty rough.”

“So, what time’s your appointment with Beast?”

“Four o’clock.”

“Goin’ good?”

Rogue shrugged her shoulders, “I hope so. He took a blood sample yesterday, got more testing today. Hopefully he’ll be able to find a way to control my mutation better.” After this, she gave a little sigh, a hand rubbing at her neck lethargically.

“You ok, kid?”

“Yeah,” she assured with a dismissive wave of her hand, “Just feel a bit sleepy, that’s all.”

Logan canted his head as he regarded her features. “You look a lil’ pale. Sure you’re up to all this testin’?”

“I’m fine, honestly. All I gotta do is lay there.”

Logan gave a small smirk, “Alright then. It’s four o’clock now,” he then added upon checking his wristwatch. “You don’t want to be late.”

“It is?” Rogue quickly checked her own watch before she stepped around Logan and began hurrying off. “I’ll speak to you later, alright?”

“Sure,” he called back. “Oh, Popsicle was lookin’ for you – though hardly a matter of life or death.”

Rogue rolled her eyes, “His name is Bobby,” she reminded him as she backtracked quite a way down the corridor. “And I’ll see him around tonight.” She jabbed a button on the wall to call the lift. ”Bye!” And with that she disappeared in through the opening doors.


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The sounds of the automatic doors pulling open jolted Beast out of his deep contemplation, and he quickly looked round to see Rogue walking into the medical bay with a smile of greeting. “I’m a bit late today,” she informed him apologetically. “Got talkin’ to Logan.” She made her way round the table as she moved closer, then noticing the solemn expression on his face. His lips didn’t even seem able to hold the usual smile he had for her. “Beast?” She asked, her tone turning cautious, “What’s the matter?”

He turned away from her as he picked up a folder from his metal desktop, speaking quietly as he moved back to face her. “I need to talk to you Rogue..”

“Why? What? Is it to do with the tests?” Her eyes narrowed, “I’m not stoppin’ them..”

A sigh was heard as Beast gradually raised his eyes upon her face. “Yes, it’s to do with the tests. Please, sit down,” Rogue began making her way to the centre table, but he gently took her shoulder and steered her towards one of the large leather office chairs nearby. He pulled one over from another desk, bringing his seat quite close to hers. He could see her eyes regarding him with worry now, for his actions were sombre and his tone grave.

“Is it about the blood sample?” she asked him quietly. “What is it? What did you find?” She left a pause in which he could answer, but he was regarding his clasped blue hands solemnly. “Beast, if it means there’s nothin’ you can do to control it - it’s.. it’s alright..”

He looked up at her, shaking his head gently, “If only,” he answered, leaving her feeling increasingly anxious. A silent pause was left hanging before he resumed his speech. “You told me yesterday that you were experiencing illness more frequently. A sore throat, a cold. You may have been feeling lethargic and put off your food.” Rogue frowned gently as she watched him, waiting to see where this was leading. “Your blood sample showed me that your mutated genes are mutating into such a state where they are unstable.. and are beginning to destroy themselves.

“You mean I’m goin’ to lose my powers?”

“Yes,” answered Beast softly with a quiet sigh. “However, the volatile cells are emitting deadly toxins, which spreads like a virus, and it’s causing other standard human cells to be killed as well.”

Rogue’s frown deepened as she watched him, his intent gaze boring into hers. “What does that mean..?”

Beast looked discomfited by this question, for he pulled his narrow glasses off his nose and stared down at them whilst he gave them a brief wipe with his lab coat. “There’s no easy way to say this..” A heavy sigh was heard and he slowly returned the glasses to his face. “Rogue..” His shoulders visibly slumped. “You’re dying.”

She continued to watch him, eyes digging deep into his as she searched for some indication that what she just heard was a joke of horrible taste. His eyes lowered gradually, Rogue then slowly raising her hands to her face as she held her forehead. “I can’t be,” she said weakly. “It must be a mistake.”

“Unfortunately, my remarkable intelligence guarantees it isn’t,” he informed her in a gentle voice. “And I would never tell you of this if I was in any doubt,” he continued, leaning forward in his seat. “I was awake all night going through the blood sample, trying to disprove what I saw.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” snapped Rogue, her hands flinging from her face to reveal tearing eyes glaring at him.

Beast shook his head sorrowfully. “I have not spoken a word to anyone, not even the Professor. But I believed you had a right to know, before it became obvious.”

“What do you mean?” she asked softly, her head dropping back into her hands to cradle her tears.

“You will find yourself becoming more susceptible to illnesses, for your immune system will begin to weaken as your cells are killed off. You may already find yourself becoming more lethargic. But the most obvious clue will be your powers, for it will lessen in its strength till it is completely void. And then..” he drifted off, for he was sure she would understand without him having to repeat it. There was a long pause in which neither of them spoke, and Beast regarded her sadly. “Rogue..”

“Don’t,” she said softly as she stood to her feet, wiping tears from her face. She gave Beast a grief-stricken look, shaking her head miserably. “Just.. don’t..” with that she turned on her heel, running towards the automated doorway and disappearing out of the medical bay.

Beast watched her leave, his head then slumping down into his hands in anger at himself for telling her the worst news anyone could ever hear.

Chapter 3
“Tears are due to human misery, and human sufferings touch the mind.” - Virgil

The storm had well and truly taken hold over the mansion. The evening skies were diminished of any sunset rays as steel clouds throbbed darkly across the heavens. Rain fell in sharp sheets, striking the ground with a cutting force. Logan observed the sombre weather out of one of the upstairs windows, staring out through the heavy rain. Thunder rumbled ominously above, with occasional flashes of light illuminating the heaving clouds. The lush grounds were thrown into sharp relief from the lightning, silhouetting a figure sat out on the upper floor balcony. He quickly frowned, who in their right mind would be out in this weather? Not to mention it was getting late. Logan pulled back from the window, lightly jogging down the corridor until he came upon the set of wooden double doors that led out onto the balcony. He stared out through the glass squares. There was definitely someone out there.

His hand quietly dropped to the handle, turning it southward as he eased open the door. He stepped out into the blackness; quickly feeling the lashes of the downpour begin to soak his form through. “Hey, are you alright?” he called to the figure ahead. His keen sight could make out a person sat on the stone wall with their back to him, staring out at the horizon. Other than that, the rain visually limited his normally exceptional senses. He got no reply, but that wasn’t surprise. He closed the door behind him, then striding off across the numerous puddles over the flagstones towards the silent figure. He took a sniff at the air, seeking through the scent of the rain and the static of the lightning. Logan’s discovery only made him frown more. “Kid, what you doin’ out here?” he asked, continuing up behind her.

Rogue didn’t respond, staring ahead with a blank face. The trails of tears were disguised with the downpour and no more could fall. She had cried too much, there was nothing left in her. She just couldn’t summon the effort to cry more. She had been sat out here for a long time, just gazing unseeingly into the blackness. She was drenched to the skin, with her long dark hair slicked about her neck and shoulders, her clothes heavy and cold against her flesh. Logan stopped a short distance behind her, watching her with concerned eyes.

“Marie,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?” The first sign of a response was shown as Rogue blinked her aching eyes. Her head bowed as her eyes instead stared down at her lap. Her soaking white strands sunk down with the rest of her hair, hiding her pale face from view. Logan made his way to the stone wall she sat upon, swinging one leg over it so he was straddling it. The drop below was colossal, but Rogue, who had both legs dangling into nothingness appeared to pay it no mind. “C’mon, kid. Talk to me,” he continued softly. The rain continued to heavily slash down, the skies above issuing threatening rumbles as lightning zigzagged sharply across the turmoil of clouds.

Eventually Rogue turned her eyes upon him, though she wasn’t yet to respond. A gloved hand rose to push her hair from her face, a shaky sigh then coming from her lips. “Hey Logan,” she murmured weakly.

“Hey,” he whispered, watching her intently.

“I’m cold,” she told him quietly, her reddened eyes staring at him almost hauntingly from her pale face.

Logan frowned as he leant forward, his strong arms encircling the girl with care before he pulled her in towards him in a warm embrace. He pulled his denim jacket off his shoulders, then draping out about her shoulders before he continued to hold her. She was pulled in close against his upper torso, her legs hanging over his left thigh idly. Their closeness was rather intimate with her bundled up against his parted legs - but neither addressed it. She needed his comfort, his closeness. “Why are you sat out here, kid?” he asked her quietly, resting his chin on her soaked crown.

Rogue rested her head against his chest, her tired eyes closing. “I don’t know,” she answered in a soft voice.

“You don’t have to tell me y’know..” Logan said, “But I want to help you. I promise I’d take care of you, remember?”

He felt her nod her head slowly under his chin. “I remember,” she assured him. A soft sigh was heard, tears finding the energy to be released and began trickling down her cheeks once more.

“Marie..” Logan tightened his grip on her, soothingly rocking her form back and forth in his cradled arms. He hated not knowing. He wanted to help her, make things better. Not see her so distressed. “Is it Bobby?” he asked, feeling a stab of anger course through him.

There was a soft snort that answered him. “No,” she replied. Logan fell quiet, merely sighing as he continued to hold her. If she really needed to tell him, she would in her own time. Rogue kept herself buried tight into his embrace, her eyes shut, as though hoping everything may fade away from around her. Since the news from Beast, she had felt so lost, so separate from the rest of the mutants at the mansion. Her feet had left her to the upper floor balcony where she remained seated for hours. She lifted her head slowly from Logan’s chest, her eyes peering up as she stared through the rain at his concerned face. “I saw Beast today,” she began softly.

“Yeah?” Logan murmured, a hand lightly rubbing her opposite shoulder in a reassuring manner.

“He didn’t do anymore tests,” she continued, swallowing gently. “He’d already found somethin’ wrong.”

Logan pulled his head off hers slowly, leaning down to watch her face. “Marie?”

Rogue reverted back into her silence, her head turning as she stared out into the blackness at the rain-soaked grounds once more. Logan continued to rub at her shoulder, waiting with patience until she could continue. After a good while, she spoke, though her face remained expressionless as she watched the distance without focus. “I’m dyin’, Logan.”

“What?” Logan’s eyebrows abruptly shot upwards and he pulled back so he could see her face. “Marie, don’t say things like that. C’mon, kid. It can’t be that bad.”

“I’m dyin’,” she repeated softly, still staring blankly ahead.

But Logan shook his head, “Marie..”

“I’m dyin’, Logan. I am.”

“No! Marie, stop talkin’ shit like that!” Logan cried, roughly turning her body to face him. His hands harshly gripped either of her shoulders, eyes glaring down into her face.

“I am,” she said shakily, now gazing up at him. Her eyes fell shut as she gave a great gasp of breath. “He told me, Logan. He told me I’m dyin’.”

“No - no!” Logan’s grip tightened. “Marie!” She collapsed against his hold in heartbroken sobs, her form slumping weakly. Logan’s shocked gasps mixed in with her anguished moans, his arms gathering her up as he melted her quivering form against his chest. “No..”

Her gloved hands gripped the material of his shirt, burying her face into his chest as her inconsolable wails surrounded them in a cocoon of misery. “I’m dyin’,” she repeated in-between her shaking breaths. “I’m dyin’..”

“C'mon,” he muttered softly, his voice sounding a little weak. “Let’s get you inside. You’re freezin’.” He gathered her smaller body inside his arms, swinging his leg from off the stone wall so he could stand to his feet. Carrying her tight against him, he set off towards the double doors. Her cries continued, but were becoming tired once more, but her frail body merely shook with the sobs she needed out, even if she didn’t have the energy to cry anymore.

Chapter 4
“We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death.” – David Sarnoff

The curtains were drawn closed against the morning sunlight, leaving the room in a comfortable darkness. The single bed against the wall held a sleeping Rogue who had drifted off into slumber once Logan had settled her in. He had remained sat besides her bed, watching over her in a poignant silence. He had not slept himself. All night he had sat in that chair, staring at her with his mind full of thoughts that never came to conclusions. He had hardly moved, only at one point when his sensitive hearing picked up the foretelling whirr of her alarm clock did he lean over to unplug it before the beeping alarm could wake her up. Satisfied, he remained in his seat, the length of which unknown.

At one point, there came a knock upon the door, followed by the curious call of, “Rogue?” it was Bobby. He turned the door handle and peered in, clearly wondering where his girlfriend had been all morning. His eyes stared through the blackness as they met Logan’s stern glare. Unwelcoming. Bobby quickly glanced down to the bed where Rogue remained undisturbed. He came a little further into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Is everything alright?”

As the door was closed, Logan stood up, taking slow but long strides around the foot of Rogue’s bed to meet Bobby before he proceeded any further into the room. “Look, talk to her later when she wakes up, alright?”

“I want to know what’s wrong,” said Bobby, keeping his tone cool and unwavering. He was still not entirely on good terms with Logan, and was a little fearful after Logan’s berserker rage on Stryker’s soldiers (which had done nothing to convince him of Logan’s supposedly ‘nicer’ side.)

“She’s asleep,” Logan muttered, his words being slightly enhanced by a snarl. He took Bobby by his upper arm, and though he didn’t add any vindictive pressure, the grip was still noticeably firm. Logan steered Bobby out of the room with a dark glare. “Come back later. Let her rest.” With that, he shut the door on Bobby’s face, his foot remaining against the bottom of the door idly to fully stop the boy’s attempts to open the door once more. Logan listened to Bobby’s annoyed sigh before his footsteps retreated down the corridor. With a nod, Logan pulled back from the door, making his way back to his seat.

As he sat down, he was surprised to see Rogue watching him. “Thanks,” she said in a quiet voice. “I don’t want to explain it all just yet. It’s too..” she drifted off, her eyes averting from Logan’s.

“No problem, kid,” he murmured softly, pushing from his seat to kneel down on the floor besides her bed. “How are you feelin’?”

“Tired,” she admitted with a sigh. “Like I just want to sleep forever,” she closed her eyes to hide oncoming tears.

Logan reached a hand forward, lightly brushing a white strand from her face in the swiftest of motions to avoid her dangerous skin. “Marie..” he whispered quietly.

“I’m gonna feel like this a lot,” Rogue said gently, her eyes eventually opening to stare up at Logan. “Beast said that I’m gonna feel weaker.. fall ill more.” She breathed out a soft sigh, wiping her eyes with the back of a hand. “I’ll lose my powers soon.”

“Why?” asked Logan with a gentle frown. His eyes remained firmly on hers, giving her his undivided attention.

Rogue’s eyes gently blinked some tears free before she continued. “Cos, that’s what’s wrong. My mutated cells are dying off apparently.. they’ll go first.. then take the rest of my cells with it.” She let out a small groan as she buried her face into the pillow.

Logan looked down at the bed covers with a sigh. There was a moment in which neither of them spoke before Logan asked quietly; “Are you gettin’ up?”

“No point,” came Rogue’s bitter mumble.

“’Course there is,” Logan quickly insisted. “I’m sorry, Marie, but just because you’re dying prematurely doesn’t mean you should waste away the time you have left.”

Rogue picked her head up from the pillow, “Don’t start with all that philosophical crap.”

“I’m not gonna let you do this to yourself,” he decided, standing up. Rogue frowned as she watched him walk away. She was about to question him, when he grabbed her covers and abruptly whisked them off her bed. She gave a startled cry as she felt the cool air hit her bare lower legs and she furiously curled herself up in a protective ball, pulling her pillow over her head.

“No!” she cried, but her laughter defied her response.

Logan crawled onto the bed and towards her, “Yes,” he said simply. “Come on. It’s time to get up.” He reached out to try and grab her when she gave him a gentle but warning kick with her foot. His eyebrows rose at the attack. “Gettin’ violent are we?” Rogue peered owlishly over the top of her pillow, giving a sheepish giggle. Logan smirked at this, suddenly darting forward and snatching her up in his arms. Within seconds he was off the bed and carrying her protesting form over to the en-suite.

“Logan!” she exclaimed at the actions, wriggling. Partly in fun, but partly to get out of his arms for she was a little anxious about her bare skin. However, he was holding her carefully, and was clearly aware of what he was doing. He lowered her down in front of the sink, then folding his arms and barricading the bathroom door - which was an easy task for the large, muscular man. Rogue had swiftly turned from the sink in a bid to escape, but she found her exit blocked. She put on her most endearing pout as she stared up at him, but Logan wasn’t budging. Rogue stomped back to the sink, putting on her best sulky teenager front. She proceeded to wash her face and clean her teeth, all the while shooting deadly glares at Logan with the full intention of him noticing them. He merely smiled in return, rather charmingly, like a man who knew he had won.

Rogue dried herself on a nearby towel before she made her way back to her blocked doorway. “Done,” she announced, bearing her pearly whites at him in indication. Logan smirked to himself before he stepped out of her way and allowed the girl to head back into her room. “Now, Logan,” she said, taking on her usual mature tone as she turned to watch him. “I’m assume you’re not gonna stand there whilst I get dressed.”

Logan eyed her smirk before he edged towards the bedroom door, “No,” he assured. “But you better be out quickly, because then we’re gettin’ breakfast. See you in the kitchen.” With that he exited the room and promptly pulled the door shut. Rogue stared at the door as it closed, and realised that for a whole fifteen minutes she had forgotten about her intense desolation.


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“Pancakes!” Rogue announced just as she pushed open the door of the kitchen. The delicious aroma had caught her a long distance down the corridor, and she had hurried her travel to reach the kitchen. As she stood in the doorway, Logan looked up, just as he was clumsily flicking a pancake out of the toaster and onto a plate. The pancake hit the plate with a soft plop. Logan quickly put the toaster down and nodded at the breakfast. “Burnt pancakes?” asked Rogue with a small grin.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Yeah well, I’m no great shakes in the kitchen, kid.”

“Don’t worry, I love pancakes of any burnt variety,” assured Rogue as she seated herself at the breakfast bar, helping herself to the pancakes on the plate by adding copious amounts of butter.

Above them, the smoke alarm abruptly started going off, summoning Logan’s startled noise as he noticed the toaster behind him giving off fumes of smoke. Rogue stared as Logan dug his fingers into the toaster, pulling the blackened pancake out with his fingertips. He cursed colourfully, then binning the pancake with a final swear word. He stared up at the alarm, in clear confusion as to how to stop the sound. Rogue held back a laugh as she picked up a nearby newspaper and climbed up upon her stool. She then proceeded to fan the smoke away from the alarm. Logan quickly moved over to her side, anxious as she stood balancing on the stool. As the resounding alarm subsided, Logan chuckled, helping her down off the stool.

Rogue seated herself back down, and Logan proceeded to do the same opposite her. Rogue helped herself to a few mouthfuls, licking her fingers of the butter as she grinned. Logan smirked, but said nothing as he sipped from a bottle of fizzy drink. Swallowing her mouthful, Rogue watched him for a moment. “Why are you doin’ all this?” she asked.

With a raised eyebrow, Logan answered. “Because it’s makin’ you happy, kid.”

“You don’t have to run around after me,” Rogue told him with a small frown.

“I know,” Logan took another drink from his bottle. “But I said I’d take care of you, and that promise still stands.”

Rogue gave him a gentle smile, accepting this answer. She went back to her breakfast without another word. Behind her, the door opened with a quiet creak and Logan’s eyes hardened on the entry.

“Rogue?” It was Bobby. “Are you alright?”

Rogue quickly looked up, meeting Logan’s eyes. She sighed quietly to herself, swallowing down the last pancake. “I’ll see you soon,” she spoke softly, then turning out of her seat and offering Bobby a weak smile as she walked over to him. “I need to talk to you, Bobby.”

Chapter 5
“Lies are told only to convey to someone that one has no need either of him or his good opinion.” – Theodor Adorno

Arriving in the nearby recreational room, Rogue chose herself a quiet seat near the window, with Bobby sitting down besides her with concern etched into his features. Rogue raised her head slowly to gaze out of the nearby window; her eyes scanning the grounds as she bought herself time to think over what she was going to say. However, she was distracted when she felt Bobby take her gloved hand reassuringly. She quickly looked round, her eyes meeting his ice blue gaze as he watched her intently.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked her quietly. “I came in your room this morning.. and well, Wolverine wouldn’t let me in.”

“Oh..” said Rogue quietly as she glanced down at her lap. “Yeah.. I’m up now in any case.” She swallowed uncertainly, feeling the need to sooth her aching throat. “But I need to tell you somethin’.”

Bobby continued to watch her, his attention focused solely on her. Rogue raised her eyes upon him, his attentive state almost bringing her to tears. She couldn’t tell him. He would be impossible to live with the worry hanging over him. He pitied her currently with her dangerous skin, if he knew of her fatal condition he would be crushed and almost adamant that he alone took care of her. Rogue didn’t want that. That was Logan’s promise. Regardless, she didn’t want everyone in the mansion treating her like she could collapse any second.

“Bobby,” she began needing to avert her gaze for a moment. “I think we should stop goin’ out..” Her eyes nervously fluttered back onto his face to see his expression drop in disbelief.

“Rogue.. why?” he asked as he stared at her.

Rogue exhaled a low sigh, closing her eyes, “Please, Bobby. Don’t make this any harder that it is. I’ve made my decision.”

“But - ”

“No, Bobby. Trust me,” she pulled her hand out of his, standing to her feet, “It’ll be better in the end, you’ll see.” With that she quickly made her exit, not wanting to hear him ask questions, want explanations. It had been hard enough for her to lie to him like that. But it’d hurt him less when the inevitable happened. It meant both of them could lead relatively normal lives, including the rest of the mansion.

“Rogue, may I talk with you?” came the eloquent voice of Charles Xavier. He had just appeared around the corner almost silently with his mechanised wheelchair.

Rogue hesitated a moment before her shoulders slumped and she nodded her head in answer. Making her way towards him, the Professor rotated his chair and led back down the corridor towards his office. Following him inside, Rogue slowly made her way across the plush royal blue carpet, taking a seat without his request. Simply because she didn’t feel like she’d be able to stand up much longer. She was tired, and she knew why. Charles didn’t look at all perturbed by her sudden motion to sit down; on the contrary as he stopped nearby, he was watching her with gentle eyes.

“I know what’s wrong, Rogue,” he said softly. “And no, no one told me,” he then added as he saw a frown appear on her face. “I could sense it.”

“I’m guessin’ there’s not a lot that can be done,” sighed Rogue.

“Beast is trying his hardest,” Charles assured, “but it is a very difficult illness and I’m afraid we may not be successful in finding a cure at all, let alone in time.” He leant forward slowly, “I’m deeply regretful to be bringing more bad news to you, Rogue. But I don’t want you under any illusions, this is a serious matter.”

“It’s brought me and Logan closer,” said Rogue quietly. “And that’s a good thing.. and my powers are gonna go.. I might be able to touch soon. That’s something I’ve wanted ever since I got my mutation. It’s ironic that I get what I want in the worst way possible.”

Charles lowered his gaze momentarily before looking back at her. “However, please don’t push all of us away, Rogue.”

“I know. Bobby would be unbearable, Professor. That’s why I don’t want anyone else to know. Beast, Logan and you is alright.. but no more. I don’t wanna be treated differently.”

“I’m pleased that you are taking this maturely, Rogue,” Charles said with a sad smile. “Proud of you, even.”

Rogue found a very small smile on her lips, “Logan wants to make sure I’m happy. He’s tryin’ hard, Professor.”

“I’m pleased,” replied Charles as he extended a hand to take her gloved one in a reassuring squeeze. “I’m aware you may have some bad days, whilst others aren’t so negative, but please, if you need my help, Rogue, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Rogue glanced down at his hand on hers, feeling her tears return to prick at her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she raised her free hand to quickly wipe away the tears.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Charles assured her firmly.

The door to his office was opened, and Beast poked his head in. As soon as his eyes located the weeping Rogue, he swiftly apologised and closed the door again. Rogue looked up, her tearful eyes staring at the doorway, “No.. Beast!” she called. The door was opened once more and Beast looked back in in question. “C’mere..” she requested gently.

Beast made his way inside, shutting the door closed behind him. He lumbered towards the pair, taking a seat besides Rogue and placing a large hand on her shoulder. “I wish it hadn’t turned out this way,” he told her softly.

“It’s not your fault,” she said gently. “I suppose I’m lucky to know before it became obvious and I didn’t know what was wrong. At least now.. I.. I can prepare.” She blinked her tearing eyes and turned her head downward to her lap.

Beast gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Would you like me to find Logan?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Rogue answered with a shaky sniff, her hands wiping her tears from her eyelids.

“Come on then,” he said softly as he wrapped his arm about her shoulder and guided her to her feet. “Good day Charles,” he said in farewell to the Professor.

He nodded in response, “Take care, Rogue.”

Rogue gave a weak nod of response before she followed Beast out of the Professor’s office. The furry blue mutant led her down numerous corridors before they came upon Logan’s usual lurking point – the top floor balcony. “I’ve found somebody for you,” Beast called to the man. Logan quickly looked round at the voice, his eyes happening upon the tearful Rogue. Beast squeezed her in a gentle one–armed hug, “I’ll see you soon,” he said quietly, nodding his head in farewell before he stepped back into the corridor and headed off.

“Hey,” Rogue muttered as she blinked tears out of her eyes.

“C’mere, kid,” sighed Logan as he stood up from the stone wall, his arms gesturing for her to come closer. Rogue obediently moved towards him, easily sinking into his arms with a gentle sniff. She buried her face into his chest, welcoming the protective embrace he held about her. “Is it Bobby?”

Rogue blinked her eyes open gently, staring off at the gardens beyond the mansion. “I broke up with him,” she told him in a quiet voice.

Logan’s eyebrows rose in response, but he proceeded to give her a reassuring squeeze. “Because of all this?”

“Yeah.. but I didn’t tell him what was wrong. You know what he’d be like, Logan. I can’t cope with people pityin’ me all the time. I get enough of it from my mutation.”

“Well, you won’t be on your own, kid,” he assured quietly. “I’ll take care of you, right to the end.”

Rogue closed her eyes again, sighing as more tears crept free. “Thanks, Logan..”

Chapter 6
“Take time to deliberate; but when the time for action arrives, stop thinking and go in.” - Andrew Jackson.

As the weeks passed, Rogue was becoming noticeably sluggish in her actions. She found herself wearing out a lot quicker than she used to, so much so that the Professor had to excuse her from lessons because they were causing her to fall asleep in the late afternoon. The teachers were simply told she had come down with flu and was to be exempt from future classes until further notice. However, this meant a lot of free time on Rogue’s hands, but she often found herself in the company of Logan, since he usually mulled around the mansion during lesson time with little to do.

Rogue exhaled a soft sigh as she let her eyes drift closed for a few seconds, currently lethargically sprawled on top of Logan’s double bed, trying to stay awake. Logan was stood at the opened window, a lit cigar hanging out of his lips. He stood in contemplation, his hand rising to take the cigar between calloused fingers. He softly breathed the smoke out through the window before he returned the cigar back to his mouth. He flicked the decreasing stub out of the window with one last exhale of smoke, turning to glance over at Rogue. His face quickly became concerned as he saw her with her eyes closed, and he swiftly turned towards the bed, dropping down to the floor upon his knees. His hand lightly took her clothed shoulder, attempting to rouse her. “Marie?”

“Hm?” sighed Rogue softly, eventually letting her eyes open as she peered up at him sleepily.

Logan pulled his hand back, frowning as he watched her. He didn’t like it when she began drifting to sleep; it worried him that one time she wouldn’t be waking up with apologies. “You were fallin’ asleep.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she murmured quietly. “I don’t mean to.”

“I know,” Logan sighed, his eyes on her pale face. “It just worries me.” He fell quiet for a moment, merely watching her as she lay across the covers of his bed. She wasn’t even using the pillows. She flopped horizontally over the bed when she walked in and hadn’t moved since. That was over an hour ago. “I could help you, y’know..” he whispered, averting his eyes.

Rogue closed her eyes as she let out a soft groan, “No, Logan, we’ve been over this before.”

“Just to get your strength up.. before your mutation stops working.”

“And what’s the point in prolonging it, Logan?”

Logan chanced a glance at her before he quickly looked away. “Kid, I don’t want you to be like this. I could make you healthy – “

“Yeah, for a few hours, then we’re back to where we were.”

“I hate seeing you like this,” Logan whispered, lowering his forehead on top of his folded arms.

Rogue sighed softly as she rolled round onto her front, extending a hand across the bed to take his and give it a reassuring squeeze. She hated seeing him like this. She knew all he wanted more than anything was to make her better, even a little. She didn’t want him to be as unhappy as her, but it seemed he was always going to feel as down as she was. “Don’t Logan..”

“C’mon,” he said quietly, standing to his feet. “Let’s stop talkin’ ‘bout it. Let’s get you outta the mansion.”

Rogue sat up slowly, staring at him, “Logan, I can’t leave – “

“You can. It’s an order,” he gave her a gentle smile before he pulled her towards him and to her feet. “I told you weeks ago I wouldn’t let you do this to yourself. You can’t just stop livin’..”

“That’s ironic.”

“Yeah, bad choice of words..” Rogue gave him a small smile, which he returned. He took her hand, leading her out of the bedroom and on through the corridors. The corridors were quiet due to everyone either settled in the recreation room or in their bedrooms. It was pushing on into evening, with the sun beginning to sink. The pair headed towards the garage, Logan slipping inside first and cautiously checking the area. Finding it clear, he made a beeline for the royal blue Mazda he had briefly attained during his escape from Stryker’s soldiers with Rogue and her friends.

“Logan..” said Rogue reproachfully as Logan opened the driver’s door, “you can’t take Cyclops’s car again..”

“I can,” he said simply, dropping down into the seat. “Get in,” he told her swiftly before he slammed the car door closed. Relenting with a sigh, Rogue quickly made her way around the bonnet of the car, getting into the passenger’s seat. The engine was already revving and she had only just fastened her seatbelt when the sleek mobile raced forward and towards the automatically opening doors. With a screech of the tyres, the car raced on towards the winding roads, the mansion quickly being left behind them.

Rogue chuckled as she watched the mansion disappear around the corner, earning her a smirk as Logan glanced across to her.

“That’s better, kid,” he said as he continued to drive on across the quiet roads.

Rogue smiled across to him, then turning to look out ahead, “So, where are we goin’?”

“You’ll see,” he replied vaguely. “I’ve been there a few times when I’ve needed to get outta the mansion.”

Looking intrigued at the mysterious location, Rogue nodded her head to herself. “Well, ok. Finding out where Wolverine likes to prowl off to should be interestin’.”

Logan chuckled roughly at this, “Don’t get your hopes up, kid,” he murmured with a small smile. The car continued to smoothly handle the tight bends of the long winding roads. A few times Rogue felt her stomach experience nervous somersaults as Logan performed some apprehensive manoeuvres, which he always managed to achieve with ease.

Before long, the car was showing signs of slowing, and he sharply pulled them into the dirt of a rough hard-shoulder, and stopped the vehicle amongst a faint cloud of dust from his sudden stop. Rogue glanced over to him as he turned off the ignition, then looking back out at their location – which was the middle of nowhere. “Are we here?”

“Yes,” he answered. As always, Logan responded minimally. He unbuckled the seatbelt, opening the car door to exit the vehicle. Rogue quickly followed his example, letting her feet out to meet the uneven dirt before she rose to her feet and shut the door closed. She turned to view him over the top of the car roof, seeing him place his hands behind his head as he scanned over the countryside with a certain peace.

“You come out here?” she asked quietly, proceeding around the bonnet of the car to reach his side.

Logan nodded in response, then walking ahead to a low fence, which he hopped over with ease. He reached round, beckoning that Rogue should follow. There was a moment of hesitation before she moved towards the fence, awkwardly climbing up the slats until Logan eased her over the top and set her on her feet again. She was placed down in a field of wild grass that followed on down the sloping hillside, which disappeared into a lush woodland at the bottom. The crest of the hill, where they currently stood, offered a picturesque view across the valley.

“Hey, is that the mansion?” Rogue asked as she slowly walked forward through the grass, the tips of the soft strands almost brushing up to her knee. She indicated down into the valley where the mansion itself was nestled in the distance, its lights shining from its many windows.

“Yep,” replied Logan with a simple grunt, dropping down to sit himself on the peak of the hillside. He helpfully smoothened down the grass for Rogue to join him, and she lowered down to seat herself. She watched Logan curiously as he stared off ahead, his knees lightly bent and parted with his elbows rested upon them. His hands idly dangled in the space between his legs, his head lifted to welcome the cool breeze on his face.

Rogue studied his face before she glanced out across view once more, pulling her calves up against her rear as she sat with knees bent to the side. “How often do you come out here?”

“About every other week,” he said quietly as he continued to stare ahead. The skies were dimming into a rusty glow now, and the light was creeping away bit by bit. “I come out when I need to just sit and think, y’know? Just have to time away from the mansion.”

Rogue watched him closely, his words a little surprising to hear, for she never expected Logan to be such brooding sort of person. Sure, he liked time to himself, but this was different, this was revealing a deep side to Logan she hadn’t really been aware of. “You been out here recently?”

“Quite a lot since I found out what was wrong with you,” he admitted regretfully, bowing his head.

“Any epiphanies?” asked Rogue, an eyebrow rising.

Logan smiled a little at her question, glancing over to her. “Only that I should try and help you, somehow. But that’s all,” he sighed quietly, looking back ahead. “I don’t mean for this to sound selfish.. but I don’t want you to die, kid.”

“Hey.. I don’t wanna die either,” murmured Rogue quietly, moving a little closer to him and reassuringly leaning against his side. “But we gotta accept what’s wrong. You gotta accept it.”

“I just wanna help you,” he sighed heavily, shaking his head, “Is that so bad?”

“No..” said Rogue soothingly, surprised to find that his voice sounded rather strained. “Course it ain’t.. that’s just your natural response – you wanna protect me.”

“I promised to take care of you, and I never thought there’d be somethin’ I couldn’t protect you from.”

Rogue gently rested her gloved hand on his shoulder, leaning in with a small smile, “C’mon, now. I thought we were gonna stop talkin’ about this.”

“We are,” Logan replied as he glanced down at her, his face tense, “I just needed to explain myself.”

“Sugar,” coaxed Rogue gently, “I understand you more than you know. I’ve learnt to read you well.”

A rough chuckle sounded as Logan nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah,” he agreed in a low tone. “It’s always been you an’ me, ain’t it kid?”

Rogue smiled at him reflectively, lowering her head to rest her chin upon the hand that grasped his shoulder. “There’s a few at the mansion who are jealous of us, y’know.”

“Really?”

“Hell yeah!” Rogue exclaimed with a smirk, “Bobby for one.”

“He was jealous of anythin’ that looked at you.”

Rogue chuckled quietly at this, “But seriously, he really didn’t like how close we are.”

“He’s an asshole. I mean, he’s the one who had you as a girlfriend. Not me.”

Rogue shrugged her shoulders tiredly at this, “I know, but he was always funny about us.” She glanced down at his shoulder, idly picking at a hole in the shoulder of his leather jacket. The pair fell into a comfortable silence, allowing the darkness to continue to fall around them. The low skies were turning bloodier, the fireball that was the sun brimming the horizon in narrow flames. Logan slowly looked over to Rogue to see that her head had slumped contentedly against his shoulder, her breathing turning gradually shallow.

His lips grew thin as he pulled back his arm, looping it around her narrow waist protectively. “Look at you.. we should head back.”

“No..” she breathed out softly. “I like it here,” she snuggled closer against his side, the action causing him to hold her tighter.

Logan exhaled a coarse sigh as he held onto her, his head turning to look out across the valley once more. It was peaceful out here. Away from the mansions seemed to mean away from their troubles, even if Rogue was living proof of their woes. Her content nature just soothed him, the current lack of anxiety about her calming. “Marie..” he said softly, glancing back down at her.

“No..” she murmured, her words barely a whisper.

“Marie, c’mon, we gotta get back to the mansion.”

She responded with a mere noise, and Logan exhaled a troubled sigh. He moved onto his knees, arms securely coming under her body and picking her up out of the grass. He made his way back to the car, lowering her sleeping form on the leather passenger seat. Logan was quick to get in the car, the engine abruptly starting and beginning a swift return to the mansion. All the while he called her name, her responses becoming quieter and less obvious.

The car braked across the gravel, the small pieces of stone flying up at the abuse of the tyres. The car screeched to a halt inside the lit garage, the parking haphazard and more than enough to make Scott notice his sports car had been used. But Logan didn’t care, he leapt out of the car, hurriedly coming to the passenger side and easing Rogue back into his arms and out of the car. Kicking the car door closed without a single thought for Scott’s polished surface, Logan made his way out of the garage and into the mansion, swiftly coming upon Rogue’s room. He deposited her on her bed with care, seating himself down on the edge as he saw her turn her head slightly in welcome of the soft pillows, but other than that she had no energy to get herself more comfortable.

Logan aided by removing her shoes, then pulling the covers over her smaller form. He slowly stood to his feet as he moved to her bedroom door, glancing back at her in hesitation. He sighed quietly as he retreated back inside, closing the door and making his way back to the bed. He leaned over her, his dark eyes watching her with concern. He raised his bare hand, it wavering as it hovered over the smooth naked skin of her face. A sigh was heard as he pulled his hand away, deciding to hold back on his actions for now. “Good night, kid,” he whispered into the darkness, seating himself down besides her with an unwavering vigilance.

Chapter 7
“Better a broken promise than none at all.” – Mark Twain

A few gradual blinks summoned Rogue awake, her position in her bed meaning she was facing Logan who was vigilantly watching her in a chair not far from her bedside. She slowly rubbed at her eyes before she continued to watch him. “Hey..” she said softly, managing a small smile.

He returned the greeting with a slow nod of his head, “Hey. How you feelin’?”

Rogue shrugged without a direct answer. “You been sat there all night?”

“Yeah,” Logan admitted, and even though he didn’t want to display it, his weariness was evident from his bloodshot eyes to the inevitable yawn he let out.

“You don’t need to watch over me when I sleep, Logan,” Rogue said gently, sitting up and watching him. “I’d much rather you get your rest rather than wear yourself out.” When Logan began to show signs of protest, Rogue pushed back the covers of her bed, and fully clothed (due to her hasty arrival last night,) stepped out onto the floorboards. “Come on,” Rogue swiftly said, shooing him with her hands. She only managed to take a few steps when her legs appeared to give up on her and she stumbled to the floor. A hand shot out to grab the windowsill, the falling motion bringing her roughly against the wall, having landed on her knees.

Any signs of tiredness vanished from Logan as he abruptly shot to his feet and took hold of her carefully. “Marie..”

But Rogue continued regardless, “Go and get some sleep, Logan,” she told him softly. “I’ll be fine.”

“No. No, I’m not leavin’ you,” he insisted, gently pulling her upright. He heard her wince, and he saw her lifted a gloved hand to her forehead, where a painfully exaggerated bruise was forming from her collision against the wall. Frowning, he became aware she was not able to stand on her own two feet, and so he carried her over to the bed with care, laying her down on top of the covers. “Are you all right?”

Her eyes were closed as she tried to stop her head from throbbing at the pain, the bruise’s fierceness a direct influence of her weakening body system. “I’m fine,” she muttered quietly, her fingertips leaving her forehead. Her eyes fluttered open as she looked about her, “No, let me get up..” she struggled to get upright, even without Logan holding her. She weakly slumped back down onto the pillows, her eyes closing, but this time to hide her tears.

“Marie..?” Logan asked softly, leaning over her with concern.

“I can’t do this, Logan,” she whispered quietly. “I can’t handle just fadin’ out. I wish it was quick.”

Logan looked aside with a sigh, his mind going over the single dominating thought he had been experiencing all night. Should he help her? Even if it was against her wishes? The times like this, where she couldn’t handle her dilemma, were the times Logan wanted to take her pain away, even if it was just temporary. As she lay crying, Logan slowly lifting his hand from her arm, his fingertips hovering over her face before they delicately brushed her white streaks from her face. He saw her eyes gently open to study him through the thick tears. “Trust me,” he said softly, the same hand then lowering down upon the smooth texture of her skin.

Her powers had been weakening recently, and Logan knew the tug of her mutation would be delayed. When Rogue realised what she was doing, she made a soft gasp, her hand flinging round to grab his thick wrist. “Logan!”

Logan gently took her hand in his free one, using her weak strength to his advantage as he kept the palm of his hand cradling the cheek of her face. She stared up at him, her parted lips breathing out gasps of shock as, soon feeling her powers latching onto him like a million miniature grapple hooks.

“Logan, don’t do this,” she begged quietly, her voice quivering with its sobs. But Logan didn’t release her; he continued to keep his skin against hers till he could feel his very energy seeping out through the palm of his hand. Rogue closed her eyes as she gasped, erratic flashes of his disturbing memories currently darting across her mind. As his energy seemed to flow through her being, she felt the savage personality of the suppressed Wolverine trickle through, which only caused her anger to multiply.

With her regained strength, her hand flew forth, latching tightly onto his wrist. Logan’s eyes lethargically lowered to the grip she had on him, watching as she forced him off of her cheek easily. Panting softly, Logan staggered backwards into his previous chair. Having already been relatively weak from his lack of sleep, Logan was now incredibly exhausted and could only watch as Rogue stood to her feet, tearful eyes blazing at him. His eyes trailed the fading bruise from her forehead, then lowering to her angry face. She said nothing but stormed past him, leaving the bedroom, but not without slamming the door noisily behind her.

Rogue ignored all those she passed, who regarded her in alarm for her apparent bad temper. She continued to walk, right until she reached the upper floor balcony. Shutting the double doors behind her, she walked out across the flagged paving quietly, coming upon the stonewall with a sigh. She leant down on the rough surface, staring down to watch a small beetle work its way over the weathered grooves.

She was angry. No, more than angry. She was absolutely furious. Furious that Logan broke her trust, and as far as she was concerned, broke his promise. She knew he wanted to help her by healing her, but Rogue didn’t want to be set back like that. Feeling healthy again, only to suffer a massive drop hours later would drive her to tears. It would be cruel to experience. She just wanted to let herself be. She was trying hard to accept her fate, why couldn’t Logan do the same? She clenched her gloved hands into fists, closing her eyes as she felt Logan’s personality rumble around her head.

That was doing nothing to calm down her temper, for the Logan in her head, in tune with her anger, simply made her want to destroy things. It made her want to unleash her claws and wreak havoc. The problem was, she didn’t have claws.

But she had a brain and a tongue, and she was as sure as hell she was going to use them.

Chapter 8
“Nothing we use or hear or touch can be expressed in words that equal what is given by the senses.” - Hannah Arendt

“Oh, there you are!” exclaimed Rogue sarcastically as she strode down the corridor. Logan was coming the other way, looking weary and rather miserable. His head lifted hopefully when he heard Rogue, his bloodshot eyes regarding her form gently. With a sigh, he proceeded to walk towards her, despite the murderous glare on her face that was better suited to Wolverine’s berserker state.

He slowly moved closer to her, “Marie..” he began softly, but Rogue cut across him fiercely.

“No, shut up, Logan!” she snapped angrily. “You have no right to talk to me!” When Logan wisely kept quiet, she pursued. “You knew I didn’t want you to use your powers to temporarily heal me. You knew it!”

“I just wanted to – “

“Help me!” she finished for him, “You just wanted to help me, I know. But you’re not, Logan!” She waved a hand angrily as she continued, her vocal volume still high; “You’re making things worse!”

Logan stared down at her, her words really cutting into him this time, harsher than any stab of his claws. “Worse?”

Tears began to sting at Rogue’s eyes, nastily pricking against her lids as they threatened to be released. “Yes, worse,” she confirmed, finally going quiet. “I think you should just stay away from me from now on.” She shook her head slowly as she turned away, quickly wiping a tear from her cheek as she tried to hurry off.

“I can’t do that, Marie,” said Logan as he followed her, a hand making a grab for her forearm. Rogue’s head spun round to glare at him, but the sudden action dizzied her, and with her weakening state, she was quickly dropping from the healthy high of Logan’s powers. Logan saw her sway, and he quickly took hold of her with both his hands, steadying her.

“Let’s go of me, Logan,” said Rogue as she stared up at him.

Sighing, Logan just gently leant her back on the wall of the corridor, his hands releasing her arms but supporting his form with his palms on the wall either side of her head and providing a barrier so she couldn’t slip off. “Don’t do this, kid. Don’t fall out with me. Not now.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you started touchin’ me!” she quickly snapped.

Logan shushed her softly, lifting a hand to absently trail a finger down one of her white streaks. “You know I only want to help you,” he said gently. When Rogue showed signs of interrupting, Logan continued, “No, listen to me, Marie. You know I’d do anything so you weren’t dyin’.”

Rogue’s shoulders slumped as she averted her eyes. “I know..” she sighed softly, beginning to feel ashamed at the way she had lost her temper. Logan sighed softly as his arms slipped about her form, pulling her up against him in a gentle embrace.

“I’m gonna take care of you.”

“I know,” she repeated quietly, closing her eyes as she settles her head against his chest comfortably. Her earlier anger ebbed away as she stood in his protective hold, feeling warm and safe against his body, cocooned in his familiar scent. She felt his hand rest at the back of her head, absently stroking his fingers through her long dark hair. Even the brief touches against her bare nape didn’t summon any lure of her power, which were now so much weaker than before, the touch needed to be unyielding to take effect.

But Rogue still enjoyed the soft brushes of his fingertips against her neck as they continued to stroke down through her hair. It was so small, but to her, every touch was so much more prominent due to the lack of it she had felt over the years. She felt his hand settle to rest against her clothed back, causing Rogue to utter, “Don’t stop.”

Logan slowly looked down at her, meeting her yearning gaze as it locked upon his. “What?” he asked her gruffly, looking a little curious.

“This,” she said softly, her hand taking his and pulling it up to slowly press her cheek against the weathered texture on the back of his hand. She could feel the rough surface press into her cheek, every hair tickling her skin. “There’s no pain,” she whispered quietly, eyes returning up to his.

“They’re going, aren’t they?” Logan asked as he watched her. He carefully pulled his hand from hers, turning it to cup her cheek with his palm. He slowly trailed his thumb over the recent tear trails. “Your powers..”

“Beast said they would.”

Logan nodded his head slowly, recalling her saying this. “I guess that means I won’t be able to heal you anymore even if I wanted to.”

“Yeah,” admitted Rogue softly, looking down at the space in-between them solemnly. “It comes at a price though, y’know?” She sighed quietly as she brought a gloved hand to her forehead, rubbing there lethargically.

“C’mon,” said Logan as he slipped a sturdy arm around her waist. “Let’s get you back into bed..” He led her back along the corridor, holding her carefully to keep her upright should she stumble or fall. Walking slowly through the corridors of the mansion, they reached her bedroom once more, and Logan slowly eased her inside. He shut the door before helping her over to her bed where she sat down with a sigh.

Logan kept his hand at her opposite hip when he sat down besides her, this instantly causing her to lie up against his side. “I’m sorry for havin’ a go at you,” she murmured quietly, eyes closing.

A reassuring squeeze was offered to her waist before he turned his head to rest his chin against the top of her head. “I deserved it.”

“No.. no you didn’t,” Rogue continued, sounding sleepier by the minute. Logan slowly turned to her, carefully moving her down into the bed. He stood upright, coming by her side as he pulled the covers up over her chest. “You’re sleepin’ this time,” Rogue said, her eyes opening and peering up at him.

“Marie..”

But Rogue shook her head, “You don’t have to go. You can sleep in here. I don’t mind..”

Logan watched her gently before he nodded his head, moving round the foot of the double bed before he seated himself on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. Rogue watched him as he did this; an idle smile sprawled across her lips. Soon enough, he eased himself into the bed besides Rogue, settling down under the covers of the bed. He saw Rogue’s smile and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Do you spoon?” The stunned look on Logan’s face sent Rogue in a fit of giggles, which instantly caused the man to grin.

“Shut up, you,” he growled playfully, reaching over to tickle at her belly.

She shrieked at this, swatting his hand away, “No! Don’t!” she hiccupped, “Please, don’t,” she said, begging through her laughter.

Logan pulled his hand back with a smirk, settling about getting comfortable on his back. “Go to sleep,” he told her with a faint smirk, settling his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes, exhaling a relaxed sigh as the quietness of the room settled about him. The soft shuffle of the bed covers sounded as Rogue rolled over, but Logan’s eyes flew open when he felt her come up against his side, her head resting on his chest and an arm strewn across his lower stomach comfortably.

He watched her for a moment before he pulled his arms back from behind his head and gently settled them around her shoulders to hold her there in a warm embrace. There was a small smile on his face as his eyes fell closed and he quietly drifted to sleep.

Chapter 9
“I beg you take courage; the brave soul can mend even disaster.” – Catherine the Great II

Rogue knew that she was dying. She’d know for many weeks now. But now, she could feel it. It had been a week since she had an argument with Logan regarding his desire to heal her, but now, even if he did want to do it again, he couldn’t, for her powers had grown so weak, they were almost non-existent. Since Logan shared Rogue’s bed all those nights ago, it had become as much more frequent occurrence, sparking unfriendly rumours around the mansion when Logan was seen exiting Rogue’s bedroom more often than he ever had before.

Lethargic and weak, Rogue was finding that each day brought new struggles that were becoming harder, much to her despair and frustration. It had only been a few days ago that her pitiful strength left her too exhausted to even tidy her desk, and Logan had walked in to find an inconsolable Rogue curled up against the foot of her bed.

She hadn’t left her bedroom much in the recent weeks, and had rarely seen Professor Xavier or Beast. She didn’t have the energy to walk around the mansion anymore, and spent more and more of her time in her room with Logan.

With Logan being the only ‘outside contact’ with the rest of the mansion, it was he who got bombarded with questions on the whereabouts of Rogue. Those who were brave enough to approach him, anyway. Logan was usually skilled enough to pass through the mansion undetected by potential annoyances, but when he heard the pop of a bursting bubblegum, he knew he had failed.

“Logan, do you know where Rogue is? She’s, like, been gone for weeks.”

Logan withheld a sigh as he turned round to see Jubilee standing there with her arms folded, her lower jaw working away on her latest piece of strawberry bubblegum. “What?” he asked, feigning deafness despite his spectacular hearing.

“Rogue,” repeated Jubilee slowly, giving him a sceptical look as she cracked her bubblegum so loudly it made Logan twitch. “She’s not been in any of her classes, and you’re sneaking around like a kid who’s creeping back and forth from the cookie jar!”

“I’m not sneakin’ anywhere,” muttered Logan, refraining from rolling his eyes.

There was a loud pop of bubblegum before Jubilee chewed at it frantically. “Where’s Rogue?”

Logan sighed softly as the girl persisted, feeling very much backed into a corner. “Look, she ain’t feelin’ herself, alright?”

“My girl’s ill?” said Jubilee, her eyebrows rising. “And why did nobody tell me that, huh?”

“Probably because Rogue doesn’t want everyone knowin’.”

Jubilee squinted her eyes. “I bet Bobby knows.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Jubilee seemed to look happier about that. “Right, so where is she? I wanna see her.”

Logan groaned inwardly, he knew this was coming. “You can’t see her, kid, I’m sorry.”

“Says you!”

But Logan shook his head slowly, “Trust me, Jubilee, she doesn’t want to see anyone.”

Jubilee sighed heavily, her arms unfolding to hang by the sides of her bright yellow jacket. “Well, you tell her she gotta come see me when she gets well again. She better do!”

“She will..” With a finalising crack of her bubblegum Jubilee flounced off to return to the recreation room, leaving Logan looking subdued. With a sigh, he turned away, continuing the well-tread path to Rogue’s bedroom. Reaching her door, he entered without knocking, common practise these days, and arrived to see her pulling a jumper over her head to add an extra layer to her clothing.

“You ok, kid?” he asked as he watched her flip her hair out from under the neck and begin treading towards her bed.

Flopping down on top of the covers, Rogue folded her arms, the neck of the green jumper over snuggled over her mouth. “Yeah,” she murmured softly into the woollen material, bending her denim-clad knees towards her a little.

“Hey, I saw your friend Jubilee,” Logan continued, making his way over and sitting on the edge of Rogue’s bed. “She’s worried about you not being around.”

Rogue glanced towards him, her eyebrows arching. “What did you say to her?”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Logan replied. “Just that you ain’t feelin’ too good.”

“Great, now she’ll want to come and see me.”

“I already told her not to. I said you didn’t feel up to visitors.”

Rogue’s expression smoothened, “Oh,” she said softly as she watched him. “Thanks, Logan.”

“I’m lookin’ after you kid,” he said with a small smile, reaching out his hand and patting her on her nearest bent knee. “How you been feelin’ today?”

Rogue sighed quietly as she adjusted her head on the pillow. “Not too good,” she said after a while. “Today’s not one of my best.” She looked towards him, saying simply and yet so heart-wrenchingly, “I’m tired, Logan.”

“I know,” he replied, giving her knee a tender squeeze since his hand still rested there.

“I’m tired in both aspects. I’m fed up of feelin’ this way, havin’ no strength, being unable to live how I used to.”

Logan watched her carefully. “Hey, kid, that’s what I’m here for, to help you.”

“I know, I know,” answered Rogue, stressing that fact she was aware of his aid, but yet, it wasn’t enough. She sighed quietly, breaching a dwelling subject she had yet been too scared to approach, and so turned her head away to look out of the window.

Not being one who could handle emotions well, Logan’s next actions took him a lot of effort, and a lot of consideration to make sure they came across as he wanted them to. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, before quickly adding, “I mean, there’s something different..”

And there was. He was used to Rogue having her ups and downs, he’d seen her on a relatively good day, where she took things positively and lived life like she should do, and then he’d seen her on the brink of hysterical desperation. But he’d never seen this. He’d never seen her.. fed-up. As though this whole affair was too dull for her, dragging on too long.

“Marie..” he prompted quietly, slipping his hand down from her knee and on past her thigh until he reached the bare hand rested across her stomach. His large fingers carefully wrapped around hers, as though she was a delicate china doll that was overwhelmingly precious.

The squeeze of her grip came before her words. “I’m sorry, Logan,” she said, tone accumulating tears.

“What for?” he asked quickly, leaning closer to her and holding her hand tighter in his. “You’ve done nothin’ wrong, kid.”

“I’ve let you down,” she then said sadly, turning her sparkling eyes towards him. Her lower eyelids brimmed with unmistakable tears.

Lifting his free hand, he extended his arm across her, his rough palm cupping her cheek and catching the first tear that fell. “What the hell makes you think that?” he muttered, staring at her with his questioning eyes.

“You never give up, Logan,” Rogue whispered softly, inclining her head towards his hand. Her eyes closed tightly and released several tears down her pale cheeks. She made a shaky gasp of breath, before her sobs trembled her short pants. “You keep on fightin’, you always do. Whether you’re lookin’ for answers, or you’re trackin’ someone down, or whether y’jus’ tryin’ to kick some guy’s ass. You never stop.”

“This is completely different,” he assured. “If I was in this position – “

“ – You never would be.”

“But if I was - “

“ – You still wouldn’t be like this,” Rogue said over the top of him, opening her eyes and giving him a glare.

Logan caught that glare head-on, and he lowered his head, cowed. “Don’t start comparin’ yourself to me.”

“We’ve got similarities!” argued Rogue abruptly, as though his words had stung her somehow.

“Yeah, an’ we also got differences, Marie.” Rogue watched him for a moment before her eyes averted, aware that he was correct. “C’mon, I’ll go and fetch you a hot cup of coffee and let you get settled back into bed, huh? I’ll stay with you, kid.” His thumb brushed off the rest of her tears before he leant forth to kiss her cheek. He stood to his feet, having only just opened the door when he heard her sob again, and knew he had failed to bring her out of her heavy despondency.

But that’s when he heard the words she had been too frightened to approach, ones that he had hoped he wouldn’t ever witness. Her breaths shaking erratically, he heard the trembling murmur. “Just kill me.”

He span round. “What?” he said, a whirlwind of emotions in his voice, but the strongest at that moment was anger. At who, he did know. Was it her for giving up? Him for not keeping her mentally healthy? Or was it Beast, who found her illness in the first place? “What do you mean?” he added quickly, fiercely, stomping towards her with an anxious pace.

Rogue pulled her hand from her eyes, giving him a small look before she covered her face again. “Logan, I’m sick, and I’ve had enough of it. It’s gonna happen anyway.”

“But kill you? What, you think we can just do things like that?”

“Well, you..” Rogue began awkwardly; cut off when Logan shot her a horrified look.

“No!” he almost yelled at her in realisation, shaking his hand and suddenly walking around aimlessly as he fretfully wrung his hands. “No!” he said again, pacing and looking more anxious than Rogue had ever seen him. There was no way he would ever be able to use his own weapons against her. Those claws were made for enemies’ blood.

Not Marie’s. Never Marie’s.

“I’m not lettin’ you do that. You’re right, Rogue. You’ve let me down. You ain’t givin’ up!” Did he mean that? Had she let him down? Maybe not quite so drastically, but maybe he was attempting to stun her into the horrifying realisation of her request.

“Where are you goin’?” cried Rogue as Logan turned towards the door and strode towards it.

“I.. I gotta talk to Beast,” he said hurriedly before he wrenched open the door and ran out, leaving Rogue staring at the closed door in silence.

Chapter 10
“No blame should attach to telling the truth. But it does, it does.” – Anita Brookner

Logan didn’t know what he felt as he stood in the metallic lift, descending to the underground levels of the mansion. His arms were folded, blazing eyes fixated on the floor. His head was in a complete whirlwind of different thoughts and emotions, none of which lingered long enough to safely comprehend. He was feeling horribly angry and distressed, and combined with his reckless, unrestrained behaviour, the conclusions could only be negative.

The lift doors finally parted, revealing the silver coloured corridor that stretched out through the secret level of the school. Logan strode out of the lift, walking with a determined pace and a stiff swing in his arms. The laboratory was up ahead - Beast’s usual haunt. With purposely placed strides, Logan swiftly came upon the entrance, which obligingly parted at his presence with an electronic whirr. He knew Beast was here prior to spotting the blue-furred doctor, the scent acknowledged long before Logan came up behind him. The arrival was so swift, that Beast had barely glanced up from his laptop when Logan descended upon him in silence.

Taken by surprise, Beast was hauled from his seat by Logan’s hands gripping the back of his lab coat, and furiously wrenched round. There was a startled expression on Beast’s face as he was spun to face the angry mutant. “This is your fault,” Logan growled into his face, pulling the man closer to him as his fist clenched at the neck of Beast’s attire.

Beast quickly summarised Logan’s issues, remaining calm under the rough handling and observing Logan carefully over the top of his reading spectacles. “Logan..” he began quietly, but Logan cut through his words with a rough shake.

“You got her into this mess, you get her out. Find a cure, damnit.”

Beast attempted to prise Logan’s clamp-like grip from the neck of his lab coat. “If only I could, Logan. But it’s not as simple as that.”

“I refuse to let her die like this!” growled Logan. “She’s far too young to die, it’s not fair.”

“I never said it was, Logan. Please, don’t blame me for this predicament. I had to give her the most terrible news.,” said Beast softly, who was still yet to be free of Logan’s tight grip. Beast could have easily wrestled the man free, but this was not a fight.

Logan shook his head to himself, releasing Beast, albeit roughly and glanced aside to send his angry glare elsewhere. “There has to be somethin’..”

Straightening his tie, Beast watched Logan. “There’s nothing, Logan. I have tried my hardest. Hundreds of people die from incurable illnesses every day.”

Logan spun round in a fury. “And that makes everything better, does it?” he snapped in Beast’s face. “Rogue’s part of a statistic!” Beast sighed quietly at Logan’s response, aware it was unlikely he could do anything to calm the volatile mutant’s temper. Heavy breaths emitted from Logan as he glared into Beast’s face, eventually saying in a strained voice. “Do you know what she’s wantin’?” he asked, then informing Beast without giving him chance to respond. “She’s wantin’ to die sooner rather than later.”

“That view is not unheard of,” replied Beast in a careful tone.

But Logan growled his displeasure, “I won’t let her do that.” He glared into Beast’s face for a short while longer before he stepped back. A snort was heard before he turned on his heel, and began walking away.

“Logan, you’re not her father,” Beast called warningly, not moving from his position.

Logan hesitated at the parting doorway, glancing over his shoulder. “No, but I’m all she’s got.” He sighed quietly, shaking his head to himself and striding on out.

There was so much anger, so much desperation. Somehow he had had some small glimmer of hope in that Beast could do something, something last minute and miraculous. But it seemed this tale didn’t have a happy ending. Not for Rogue, not for him. He left Beast’s laboratory with his emotions further wearied, and not lifted like he had hoped. Now he had the gruelling challenge of returning to Rogue, to see her face once more and see the fear in her eyes that danced in the fading light.

Before he knew it, he was back before her bedroom door, and stood there, his ears stinging in the silence as he recalled their previous conversation. But no matter what was said he couldn’t avoid her, not these days. Carefully, his hand clasped the doorknob and he slowly pushed the door open. He found her still in bed, but asleep. Closing the door, he quietly crept across the room, sitting besides her quietly. There was a sigh as his eyes scanned her calm face, which was free of the anguish and torment whilst she lay lost to her slumbering unconsciousness. Whilst he’d never known an entirely angst-free Rogue, he knew that she was peaceful right now. Both the lack of a frown creasing her brow, and the downturn of her gentle lips, relaxed her face from it’s concerned lines, leaving the youthful features as they should be.

Youthful features he suddenly had a desire to touch, and he carefully extended his hand to catch the slipping strands of ivory as one of her streaks threatened to fall across her face. He tucked it back behind her ear, but didn’t yet pull away and allowed his rough fingers to drift across her cheek. If only everything else was as gentle and as calm as her expression. He felt her stir beneath his fingers, and her eyelids fluttered open to reveal her concerned eyes latched upon his.

She spoke softly, tone uncertain. “You’re back..”

“I just needed to clear my head. I’m sorry for walking out on you.”

“Are you angry with me?” she asked, her brow furrowing and once more her expression darkened with her usual despair.

“No,” Logan insisted quickly, cupping her cheek with his palm as he wished her lips could smile again. “I’m just worried about you.”

There was a bitter snort, “Yeah, well, you do have reason to.”

She was quietened by the gentle shushing from Logan, who followed the white streak behind her ear again before returning his hand to her face. “Don’t give up, Marie. You’ve not lost everything.. I’m gonna be here right to the end, you know that.”

“I do,” she said quietly, sighing as she closed her eyes. “I just keep thinkin’, it would be so much easier if everythin’ just ended now.”

“None of us here can do that, Marie.”

Rogue tilted her head slowly, her eyes slowly opening. “Well, maybe the Professor..”

“He wouldn’t do it, kid. He couldn’t. None of us could.”

There was a slow sigh as Rogue glanced aside. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry..”

“Don’t apologise,” replied Logan, a small reassuring smile on his face.

“It just gets me down, y’know? I’m dyin’ at eighteen.. there’s so much more I should have been able to do with my life.”

“We can still do some of those things,” Logan said with a nod. “Get some food in you’ve never tried, watch a film you’ve never seen.”

“Really?” asked Rogue, raising an eyebrow as she watched him, intrigued. “But.. the mansion’s always gonna have some kids in the recreation room.”

There was a knowing smile on Logan’s face as he responded. “Not if we go when it’ll be deserted.” He leant down to kiss her forehead, “Get some sleep, we can go down tonight when the kids have gone to bed.”

“Oh, yeah, like we can go down there after lights-out.”

“Marie, you think I’m bound by some pissy rule One-Eye made up?”

There was a small giggle from Rogue, and a fleeting smile that warmed Logan’s heart. “Maybe?”

Logan grabbed at her hips playfully in threat of tickling. “Definitely not. Rest, and I’ll come get you later, alright?”

Certainly more elated, Rogue nodded her head. The anticipation that lighted her face improved both of their moods and Logan only hoped that he could keep her in that frame of mind right until the very end.

Chapter 11
“Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time. It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other.” - Leo Buscaglia


The mansion was silent, well into the midnight hour as the mutants of the school slept peacefully in their beds. But the door to Rogue's bedroom creaked open ever so softly, and out of it exited Rogue, who glanced around carefully. Even if she was caught, she had Logan with her to defend her point.. but even so.. there was something amusing and daring about the risk they were taking.

Rogue crept down the corridor, followed by Logan who strolled along at a languid pace and didn't even need to make the effort to stay quiet. They were soon upon the kitchen and Rogue began helping herself to various goodies out of the cupboards. She passed bags of crisps to Logan, then travelling to another cupboard and helping herself to copious amounts of chocolate. Logan had to hurry and catch the packets that were getting flung in his direction, staring at the increasing pile of food.

"You invitin' the whole mansion?"

"No," said Rogue as she flounced off towards the fridge, pulling out several bottles of beer and shoving them into Logan's hands.

Logan blinked, "Hey.. " he began, about to admonish her for helping herself to his beer. But he considered.. he'd do anything to have her drink his beer for the next fifty years.. When Rogue glanced round at him questioningly, he gave her a gentle smile, ".. just don't rush around."

Rogue returned the smile weakly, nodding her head to show her understanding, proceeding to be a bit more careful when she moved to gather something sugary from the drawers. Logan eyed the packet of sweets as it hit the top of the pile he held. A hyperactive Rogue might not be the wisest decision, but he decided he'd go along with it. “Can you carry all that?” Rogue asked with an endearing smile as she made her way to the door, her pleasant southern drawl stringing out her words.

“Sure,” Logan replied, following her out and keeping a firm grip on the items he carried. The pair made their way to the recreation room, which had since been tidied and exited. The curtains were drawn against the night time sky, but the room became basked in a soft glow as Rogue switched on the lamp above the television cabinet. Logan situated himself on the couch, gratefully depositing the food and drink on the coffee table in front of him. He only hoped Rogue was going to put most of the food back, since the amount present was alarming. “You’re never gonna eat all that,” he said with a smirk as he watched Rogue come from the television, holding a DVD case and the remote.

“No, but I want variety,” she announced as she flopped down on the couch besides him, automatically leaning up against his side, but not being too forward in the matter. She knew Logan wasn’t one of the girls and didn’t reckon much to snuggling up on the sofa with popcorn.

Logan shrugged in nonchalant agreement to her words, his eyes seeking out the DVD case she had placed on the coffee table. “Bridget Jones’ Diary,” he read aloud, then giving the girl a dubious look.

“Oh, stop it, Logan,” Rogue said with a grin. “I haven’t seen this film in ages!”

“Your choice,” he murmured, sinking into the couch a little as he watched the television screen flicker on and the pre-film trailers begin to start. He wondered if he could hack it, sat here watching what was possibly going to be a very sloppy, very slushy romance movie. Ah well, at least he had beer, and of course, Rogue was in a happier mood.

That settled it for him, and he leant forward to help himself to a beer, settling back with his boots propped up on the coffee table. The film began, Rogue slouched down on the couch with some chocolate in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. She looked prepared, and her eyes remained glued on the screen.


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An hour or so later, and the film was drawing to a close. Logan had thought he’d be asleep by now, but he astonished himself and Rogue by actually paying attention to the movie, and being pleasantly surprised by the plot. At some points Logan had almost choked on his beer at some of the innuendoes – some he thought Rogue shouldn’t he listening to, until he reminded himself she was eighteen. Rogue appeared to be enjoying herself, having eaten her way through several packets of food, and finished her beer.

The moment the credits began their scroll up the screen, Rogue glanced towards him with a pout. “That was so sweet,” she said endearingly. Logan glanced towards her, her term not one he would ever put in his vocabulary to describe a film. “I knew she would end up with Mark Darcy.”

“’Course you knew, you’ve seen it before,” replied Logan, being unsuccessful at hiding his grin behind his beer bottle.

“You know what I mean!” she replied defensively, proceeding to chew some popcorn.

Logan glanced back towards the scrolling credits. “That Cleaver is an asshole.”

Chuckling, Rogue reclined her head back on the couch, “That’s probably why Bridget chose Mark.” She then made a sigh as she sunk deeper into the couch. “If only all this was a film. It seems as unreal as their happy ending.”

“Oh, c’mon kid..” Logan said softly, disappointed that the mood could get dragged down so quickly.

Rogue turned off the television before she glanced towards him. “You remember when you rescued me from Magneto?” she began softly, her eyes watching him carefully. She saw him give a slow nod, and she proceeded, “Well, after that,” she hesitated, smiling a little awkwardly as she looked away before back towards him, “I kinda developed a little crush on you, is that stupid?”

There was no denying it, Logan wasn’t shocked. But what did surprise him is the fact she told him. He had always suspected something, whether it just was loyal admiration, or hero worship. He was tempted to see humour in it, but decided that would mortify Rogue. Eventually, he replied in earnest, “No.. no it’s not,” but he did sound a little tentative. “It’s just..” he faltered for a moment.

“It’s just that Jean meant more to you,” Rogue replied with a thin-lipped expression.

Logan glanced towards her slowly. Jean had been dead for quite a while now, since her demise under the crashing waters of Alkali Lake. It took him a while to speak, the reminder of Jean’s death uncomfortable. “Don’t compare yourself to Jean,” he muttered.

Immediately Rogue’s face hardened, her eyes locked on him as though she could hardly believe what he had said. Her lower lip hovered from her mouth as she stared at him, disbelief silent. Quickly, she tore her eyes from him, feeling them well with stinging tears. Struggling to keep her soft gasp of tears silent; she pushed to the edge of the couch, about to stand and hurry away before she cried in front of him.

Logan stared at her, seeing her move away from him with tears in her eyes. Before she could stand up, he reached forward to grab her by the upper arm. Rogue flinched at his sudden grasp, but was easily pulled back when he lured her towards him. “Because you’re so much better than her,” he spoke softly, his dark eyes sincere.

But with her eyes locked on his, Rogue exhaled a soft sigh. “Oh, Logan..” she said quietly, now bowing her head. “You’re jus’ sayin’ that. Jus’ cos I’m dyin’ an’ you wanna make me feel better.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not. You know you mean a lot to me, Marie. Why’d you think I stopped to let you ride with me all those months ago? Why’d you think I’d do absolutely anythin’ to save your life?”

“You can’t save me now,” Rogue whispered, lifting her head as she watched him sadly.

“I know,” he said quietly, rubbing her arm warmly. “You don’t know how much I wish I could..”

Rogue sighed softly as she leaned against him, the hand he had on her slowly slipping around her shoulders and cuddling her against him. “I can touch now,” she murmured quietly as she watched the dark television screen ahead of her unseeingly.

“I know you can,” he said gently, resting his head against hers.

“But..” began Rogue softly as she slowly lifted her head to watch him, “.. I have no one to touch.”

Logan watched her carefully, lifting his free hand to tuck one of her white strands behind an ear. He had been about to speak when she tilted her head into his hand, one of hers lifting to take hold of his and press his palm into the smooth skin of her cheek like that in itself was giving her strength. “Marie..” he began quietly, but he wasn’t sure of what to say, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to force his multitude of thoughts into a comprehensible sentence.

“Are you scared of me?” Rogue asked him quietly, staring at him with an unmoving gaze that Logan felt compelled to return.

“Of course not.”

Rogue persisted, “Do you think I’m contaminated?”

“No!” he insisted in a soft whisper.

“Is this all you can manage?” said Rogue, lowering his hand from her face and linking her fingers through his and across the spaces between his knuckles where his claws were housed.

Well aware of her gentle touch, Logan watched her carefully, uncertain as to what was going on, or where this was heading. “Marie, I don’t understand. What do you – “ but he was silenced as Rogue closed the distance between them, forcing her waning energy into a kiss that required her full concentration. If there was anything she had wanted to do before she died, this was one of them. This was no foolish hero worship. But now it was too late to try and attempt otherwise, but at least, with her reckless behaviour, Rogue could finally discover what it felt to kiss the Wolverine, his very taste and texture against her lips and tongue that bore no pain for either them. It was far from pain, it was pleasure and more.

But Rogue had expected him to push her off in horror, chastise her and suggest she went to get some sleep. And yet he didn’t, for when Rogue had caught him by surprise, in his realisation he reacted by instincts, his arms curling around her smaller body. He eagerly accepted her kiss, returning it, educating her. His mind angrily asked what the hell he was doing, but he told himself it was obvious.

Rogue seemed to think it was obvious too. Summoning energy she didn’t realise she still had, she turned her body towards Logan, not even parting their lips as she eased herself into his lap, straddling across his thighs. Logan hesitated for only a moment as he felt her weight settle in his lap, but soon pushed all his vigour into the kiss they shared, his hands mindlessly wandering her back. Rogue’s arms languidly draped around Logan’s shoulders, their shared behaviour so natural and unforced, it was like they had keep kept apart for too long, and now the barrier had finally lowered.

Fingers delve through Logan’s hair, raking down against the nape of his neck and sending shivers down his spine at the touch. He felt her lips calm their passionate frolic, the warmth of her tongue disappearing from his as she pulled back to stare down at him with a gaze he had never seen her adopt before. Her usually soft, doe eyes were swirling with a desire he never thought would be clapped upon him by her.

“I can touch now,” she repeated softly, caressing a hand down his face and feeling the bristle of his muttonchops against her smooth skin. She leant in again to kiss him, harbouring zero hesitation. Logan showed none in return, accepting her kiss with a soft grunt, his hands squeezing against her back. The hand at Logan’s cheek slowly travelled downwards, following the thick column of his throat until she reached the top of a few unfastened buttons on his shirt. Her fingertips traced the first button, considering, before she went ahead and slipped it undone. Logan only realised what was happening when she had unfastened them all and suddenly felt her hand caress the side of his bare waist beneath his open shirt.

“No..” he said quietly, pulling back from her lips and catching her hand in his. “No..” he said again, leaning his head back as she fought to kiss him again. “You can’t..” he shook his head slowly, stroking his free hand down her flushed face.

Rogue watched him in silence before she softly said. “You’d deny me?”

“You’re sick. It’s not right.”

“There’s a lot of things that aren’t right. This isn’t one of them.” She pushed forward to try and kiss him again, but he again managed to successfully evade her lips, despite how much he wished to capture them and ravish them some more.

“Marie..”

“Logan,” she said quietly, “I lied to you before.”

Logan tilted his head slowly, “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t have a crush on you.” This bewildered Logan, for the previous few minutes had signalled she felt something. But then she leant forward, resting her forehead on his. “I fell in love with you.”

“Marie..” he tried again, his eyes closing.

“What? I’m a kid? I don’t know my own mind? I’m too ill to know what I want anymore? No Logan.. none of those are true.”

Logan slowly brought his hand down her cheek once more. “No, but you are dyin’, Marie.. you don’t want this stress.”

“There’s only one thing I want..” But Logan breathed out a soft sigh, but Rogue was showing no signs of stopping. “Why are you really so against it?”

“I don’t wanna upset you.”

“Trust me, you won’t,” she said gently. “Words can’t describe how much I want you right now.”

They were the kind of the words Logan would never expect to hear from Rogues lips, and he opened his eyes to watch her, almost fearfully at her lusty request. But as his eyes traced the gentle features the entranced him so, he considered. Was it so wrong to want her as she wanted him? Was it wrong for her to love him? Was it wrong for him to love her?

Did he love her?

That was a foolish question. He loved her more than anything. The news of her approaching death had made him realise that. It made him realise how much he would miss her. That’s why he couldn’t stop watching her as she slept, touching her at every opportunity. He wanted to brand it to firmly into his head that he would never forget the smooth contours of her face, nor the sweet sound of her voice.

Eventually, he found his voice again, having made his decision but only managing to speak very quietly, “You need to get some sleep..” His arms cradled around her delicately, carrying her with the care he always adopted and standing to his feet. Together they left the recreation room, the table still littered with food, the cushions suspiciously disturbed. But neither of them cared.

Chapter 12
"No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched." - George Jean Nathan.

The sun had barely peaked above the horizon when Logan eased himself from Rogue’s bed and prepared himself for the day ahead. Despite everything Rogue had said and done the previous night, Logan had brought her to that bed to sleep, and get the rest she required. Leaving the room without disturbing her, Logan quietly tread down the empty corridors of the mansion, taking in the serenity that surrounded the building at this early hour. Morning sunlight filtered in through the tall glass windows of the corridor, streaming spotlights of golden dust, which pooled upon the polished wooden floor.

As he made his way towards the kitchen, he passed the open doorway of the ground floor recreation room. Within remained the mess he and Rogue left the night before, an untidiness that he hadn’t thought to be quite so bad then. But now, the suspiciously scattered cushions, the DVD box lopsided against the foot of the couch and the television remote lost amongst the accidentally strewn food packaging all screamed something he didn’t want to travel around the mansion. He himself could practically smell the pheromones reeking from that room and it was enough to make him too uncomfortable at such an early hour in the morning.

Giving the room one last glance, he slipped on by, deciding against going in and tidying up save someone like Scott walking in and immediately taking it the wrong way. Well, it was the right way, just wrongly! Passing the grand foyer, Logan continued his path towards the kitchen, planning on a spot of breakfast before he would see if Rogue was yet awake.

He had only gotten a couple of bites out of some toast (after an eventful experiment with the toaster settings) when Storm walked in, her name-sake etched all over her face. Another early riser of the mutant household, Logan wasn’t entirely surprised to see her enter. But when the words, “Have you seen the state of the recreation room?” left her lips, he unhelpfully gagged on a piece of burnt toast. Logan thankfully wasn’t required to respond as he sat there coughing and thumping his chest so firmly it’d possibly bruise a normal person. “There’s mess everywhere! Not to mention I don’t like the way that couch is disrupted. Some students have sneaked down there. I’ll have to mention this to Charles, we can’t have our students going down in the early hours and getting up to goodness knows what.” She said all this as she prepared herself some cereal, Logan finally swallowing his toast and blinking his watering eyes.

“C-Charles?” he managed to say afterwards, before he almost dropped his piece of toast in realisation that this reaching the powerful telepath spelt bad news. “No!” he said quickly, seeing Storm sharply look his way caused him to hastily add, “No, it’s just kids messin’ around, Ro.. you don’t need to bother him. Just start doin’ some earlier patrols or somethin’. Get a lock on the door.”

“Yes, well, I knew you wouldn’t be so quick to disapprove,” said Storm, seating herself at the breakfast bar and proceeding to eat her food.

Logan grunted to himself, quickly downing the remains of his orange juice. “Just drop it, Ro,” he retorted sharply, standing with an audible scrape of his stool. Storm cast him an affronted look. Logan should have known better than to think he could get away without a response, and his steps away from Storm were halted by noticeable rumble in the skies outside as Storm rose to her feet.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

There was a sigh as Logan raised a hand to run his fingers uncomfortably through his hair. “Look, don’t worry about last night.. there’s no kids sneakin’ round. It was me.”

Storm raised a slim eyebrow as she watched Logan. “On your own?” she said in a disbelieving tone.

Logan proceeded towards the kettle that had just finished boiling, pouring the hot water into the mug he had earlier prepared on the counter. “Rogue’s ill,” he eventually muttered.

“Don’t change the subject,” Storm then sighed, but spoke gently from the mention of Rogue.

Logan set down the kettle, not looking at Storm as he stirred milk into the brew. “I’m not,” he said pointedly. “She’s sick.”

Curious at this information, Storm turned towards him, a hand settling on her hip. “Have you told Beast? He should be able to – “

“It was Beast who told her,” Logan interrupted, still refusing to meet Storm’s gaze. There was silence between the pair for the next moment, the only sound being the repetitive clink of the spoon against the porcelain as Logan stirred in the milk excessively.

“Surely he’s doing something to help her.”

Logan pulled the spoon out of the mug of coffee, depositing it on the draining board before he picked up the mug. “There’s nothing that can be done, Ro. It’s terminal. She’s just tryin’ to enjoy the time she’s got left. We went down at night so she wouldn’t have to be asked questions by everyone, cos she ain’t been around much.”

Keeping his eyes on the mug he held, he did not see the relaxing features on Storm’s face as his shocking words hit her. “She’s dying?” she whispered. “Oh, but how long has this been going on?”

“A few months,” murmured Logan solemnly.

“Does Beast know what illness she has? I mean, how long does she have left?”

“He ain’t got a clue, that’s why he can’t cure it. Somethin’ to do with her mutation destroying cells.” Logan adjusted his footing uncomfortably. “I don’t think there’s much longer.”

Storm shook her head sadly, “Does the Professor know?”

“Of course he does,” Logan muttered. “Listen, ‘Ro, do the girl a favour, huh? She don’t want it spread around like gossip, we’ve all kept our promise, don’t go tellin’ everyone. She won’t mind you knowin’, but no one else – especially not the students.”

“I won’t, you have my word,” assured Storm, nodding her head gently. “But has Rogue been discussing what she wants to happen prior to her death? Regarding a funeral?”

Logan shook his head in answer. “No,” he sighed softly, “I don’t think she really wants to think about it to be honest, Storm.”

“No, you’re right, of course not..”

“I’d better take her this coffee before it goes cold,” Logan muttered, glad to have an excuse to leave because this conversation was making him uncomfortable, and he didn’t want to show his emotions in front of Storm. Storm nodded her head in understanding and Logan didn’t waste anymore time, swiftly departing from the kitchen and walking through the mansion’s corridors once more. The time had worn on, and now the mansion was slowly coming to life.

Logan had turned the corner only to see Scott Summers walking the other way, obviously having just left his room and was off to prepare his own breakfast. Logan hadn’t actually come into contact with the X-Men leader for quite a while since spending the majority of time with Rogue. Not that he complained, for it was common knowledge around the mansion that the meet of Logan and Scott usually prompted some sort of snide remark or an offhand comment.

“What’s this?” Scott chuckled, that alone causing Logan’s hackles to rise. “I didn’t think someone had the Wolverine running around with breakfast. Who’s taming you, Logan?”

“Shut the hell up,” Logan uttered under his breath, only just managing to keep a range of additional profanities in reign.

Scott never responded well to being told to shut up by anyone, especially not Logan. “Don’t tell me to shut up, Logan,” he replied coolly, his jaw set. “I see you’re heading towards Rogue’s room again. Lucky for her.” A growl rumbled from Logan before everything happened in quick succession. The hot mug of coffee he held somehow left his grip. Somehow, Logan’s arm swung forth and somehow the mug flew towards Scott.

There was a fierce snarl, a blast of red light followed by a pained exclamation. His instant reaction was to blast the oncoming object, but it had smashed too close to him and scalding hot coffee had rained down upon his face. He gasped as he hurriedly wiped it from his face before it could cause any lasting damage, his eyes luckily protected by his glasses. Scott looked up to seek out Logan, but the man was already upon him. Thick hands grasped Scott by the neck of his attire, easily catching him by surprise and hoisting him up against the wall.

“Don’t you dare even speak her name,” Logan growled in his face, his mind lost to the whirlwind of anger. Scott grabbed hold of Logan’s arms, a knee sharply driving up to meet Logan firmly in the gut. With a strangled sound, Logan staggered back; his unprotected abdomen arguably one of his weakest points. Scott was panting softly from the rush of rage and adrenaline, his hand at his temple, ready with his optic blasts should Logan attack again. Logan straightened slowly, his growls still noticeable. He made a rash move forward, but was abruptly thrown backwards by a blast of red laser. He hit the wall of the corridor with a grunt, gasping as he felt warm blood trickling from his upper chest where he had been struck.

The men glared at each other, sizing each other up warningly before they slowly parted from each other, each in such a state of anger it was unwise to remain close to one another. Soon, they had both departed from the scene, the remains of a mug littering the coffee stained carpet and the telltale dint in the wooden wall enough to spread the word that the two had locked horns once more.


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The sound of the closing door stirred Rogue from her sleep, who rolled round to see Logan stalking inside, his eyes blazing and blood staining his shirt. She started, sitting up and staring in horror, “Logan? What’s happened?”

Logan growled as he wrenched his shirt off his torso, throwing it aside and observing almost healed wound at his upper chest. “Cyclops got in my grill,” he said, tone harsh. He stomped towards Rogue’s en-suite, leaving the girl staring at his retreating form in alarm. She shuffled out of the bed carefully, treading out across the wooden floor as she followed him into the bathroom where he was washing the blood off his bare chest in the sink.

“There’s normally no blood when you two have a spat.”

“Yeah, well, he pissed me off,” grumbled Logan as he washed around his neck and face.

Remaining stood in the doorway, Rogue gently leaned up against the wooden frame, watching Logan as he stood with his back to her. She observed his face via the mirror. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, kid,” he muttered, glancing up to view his reflection, catching Rogue’s form in the vision over his shoulder. “I was bringing you a mug of coffee.. it’s now all over Cyclops’s face.”

Rogue gasped at this, a hand lifting to her lips, “Oh, Logan! You didn’t..”

“He pissed me off!” Logan repeated, “He was being funny about me comin’ to your room all the time.” He straightened from the sink, grabbing the nearby towel and wiping himself dry. “Sorry, Marie. I’m pretty highly strung, right now. I need to get outta the mansion.”

He saw Rogue’s face cloud over in disappointment. “You’re leavin’ me?”

“Nah, kid. Y’can come with me. I’m only goin’ for a short drive. I just need to keep my head low for a while, because I can bet you anythin’ that that pansy will be cryin’ his eyes out to the Professor.”

Rogue absently bridled herself against the doorframe in a coy manner, studying Logan with a mischievous little smirk, “Only if we can go back to your broodin’ spot.”

There was a grin on Logan’s face as he moved towards her, his large arms easily scooping her lithe torso up against his, chuckling at her little noise of surprise. “Maybe,” he murmured softly, leaning his head down to nuzzle against her cheek in an affectionate manner.

“It’s gotta be better than a ‘maybe’, sugar,” laughed Rogue as she rested against him, pleasantly surprised at his affection.

But after last night, Logan couldn’t help but feel this way towards her, not to mention the headful of pheromones he got from the recreation room this morning did nothing to quell his amorous advances. “Mhrm,” he sounded against her cheek as he gently inhaled her scent. “I could always promise?”

“That’s better,” said Rogue, pulling back with a tender smile. “You ought to go and grab yourself another shirt, unless you’re planning on travelling half-commando.” She reached up to boldly kiss him on his cheek, and was pleased when he tilted his head towards her affections with a slow rumble of pleasure. “Whilst I get dressed..” she added afterwards, lowering back from her tiptoes. “Meet you in the garage?”

“Sure thing, darlin’,” he muttered softly, allowing his arms to slip free, watching her move off back into her bedroom to get ready for their trip.

Chapter 13
“Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?” – James A. Baldwin

The mansion was brimming with life by the time Rogue had slipped from her bedroom. Students were heading to the first class of the day, with occasional staff members ushering the stragglers along. Rogue moved as quickly as her body would permit; avoiding the curious looks as she slipped by, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. It wasn’t easy when you were the hot gossip being speculated around the mansion. Needless to say, it was no surprise when Rogue heard the excited call of her name being trilled, and the arrival of Kitty and Jubilee barging into her path before she could scurry away.

“Hey!” said Jubilee excitedly, looking positively thrilled to see Rogue out on the corridor. “Are you feelin’ better, girl? You know, first class is Summers’ English Lit, he’ll do his nut if you’re late on your first day back!”

Rogue forced on a smile, shaking her head, “I’m sorry guys, I’m not comin’ back to class just yet.”

“Oh? Where’re you sneaking off to then?” asked Kitty. Her and Jubilee exchanged grins.

“Well, I’m goin’ out if you must know. Logan’s drivin’ me into town to, er, get some stuff. He’s waitin’ for me in the garage.”

This was probably the wrong thing to say, for Kitty and Jubilee shared the same excited, manic glint in their eyes. “Logan’s your chauffeur?” asked Jubilee enthusiastically. “Wow, girl. You got him tightly round that lil’ finger, huh?”

Rogue gave an uneasy laugh, “He offered. I didn’t force him into anythin’..”

“Sure you didn’t,” said Kitty appraisingly. “Make the most of it though. It’s not every day Logan’s willing to help someone out.”

“Well, this is Rogue we’re talking about,” Jubilee then commented. “He’d do anything for his Rogue.”

Jubilee and Kitty shared knowing smiles that made Rogue feel uncomfortable all of a sudden. “What do you mean?” asked Rogue as nonchalantly as she could.

“Well, Logan can’t do enough for you, can he?”

“Yeah, you mean a lot to him, chica.”

Rogue glanced between them, then asking uncertainly, “What are you implyin’..?”

“Absolutely nothing!” replied Jubilee quickly, but that smile hadn’t left her face. “We’d better let you hurry on before you’re late for your date – I mean, outing!” Herself and Kitty shared amused giggles whilst Rogue watched them in a bemused manner.

“Right, so we’re back onto the whole ‘Logan episode’, are we?” Rogue asked, but had a small grin on her face.

But Kitty waved a hand dismissively, “No, no.”

“It’s more than an episode,” Jubilee added, the girls then nodding their heads. “Oh, c’mon, Rogue. You’ve been cooped up in your room too long! You’ve forgotten our lil’ speculations!”

“About Logan?” replied Rogue offhandedly.

“She’s been in that room with Logan for a few months,” Kitty muttered to Jubilee, then looking back to Rogue. “We heard that he’s been sleepin’ in there with you.”

Rogue’s eyes widened a little and she reluctantly felt her cheeks burn. “Well, he’s been takin’ care of me, y’know..”

Jubilee and Kitty eagerly nudged each other as though this had been something they had known about all along. “We know,” Jubilee replied ominously, her smile beaming. “Well, you run along now and have fun with Logan. We, on the other hand, have a date with Mr. Summers.”

“Yay for you,” Rogue murmured with an impish little grin.

“I’d rather be goin’ on a shoppin’ spree with Logan,” sighed Jubilee.

Kitty raised an eyebrow at Jubilee, “Would you?” she asked, the pair then falling into abundant laughter at something Rogue didn’t recognise. “We’d better go before Summers puts us in detention. See you later, Rogue!”

“Uh huh, hope you feel better soon!” chimed Jubilee before the pair turned and hurried off down the corridor. Rogue smiled to herself as she watched her friends depart, realising she had really missed their company during the time spent in her room. Of course, she had Logan, but sometimes nothing could beat a good girly gossip session.

But indeed, Rogue was pushing for time, aware Logan had probably been stood in the garage for over twenty minutes. She hurried on down the corridor, continuing her path until she reached the mansion entrance to the garage, peering inside before she made her way in. As expected, Logan was stood by his choice of vehicle, leaning on the side of the bonnet with his thick arms folded across his chest. Rogue walked on towards him, her entrance quickly noticed as Logan turned his eyes upon her. “How many outfits did you try on?” he joked casually as he straightened from the car bonnet.

“Just the one,” assured Rogue. “I bumped into Jubilee and Kitty, they were on their way to class. Just had a small chat with them, that’s all.”

Logan opened the car door for Rogue, “They didn’t give you any difficult questions, did they?”

Pausing in front of Logan, Rogue gave a small smirk, “They seemed more interested in you.”

“Me?” asked Logan, instantly raising a suspicious eyebrow.

Rogue continued to smirk as she looked towards him. “Yes. They seemed quite interested about the fact you’ve been sleepin’ in my room. Good job I didn’t tell them you’ve been sharin’ my bed too.”

“Why, wouldn’t they like that?” Logan asked as he leaned in to kiss the corner of her lips affectionately.

“Oh, no, they’d absolutely love it, I assure you.” Logan breathed out a quiet chuckle against her cheek before he tried to steal a gentle kiss from her lips. Rogue responded for only a few moments before she pulled back. “No, not here. Someone might see.”

Pulling back, Logan appeared bemused, “Someone might see? The last time I looked we weren’t actually doing anythin’ wrong.”

“We don’t want any difficult questions, remember?” said Rogue with a smile, lowering into the car and pulling the door shut. Logan shrugged his shoulders in response, sauntering around the front of the car until he reached the driver’s door and let himself in.

“Back to my ‘broodin’ spot’, is it?” he asked as he started the engine. Fastening her seatbelt, Rogue gave a nod of confirmation and the car roared out of the garage and off down the meandering driveway.


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Having left the mansion before the midday, the surrounding countryside was bathed in an entirely different light to their last visit. Crisp, clear sunlight spread over the valley, a few soft clouds floating over the horizon. The pair exited the car as it stopped by the roadside, once again before the wooden stile that led them to the lush field. Taking Rogue’s hand, Logan carefully eased her over the fence, together stepping through the grass before lowering to sit in their previous places.

“So what is it you’re here to think about this time?” asked Rogue with a faint smile as she watched him.

Logan turned his head towards her, considering her words. “I’d rather not think,” he replied softly. “I know what my mind will dwell on, and I don’t want it to.”

“That’s alright,” said Rogue quietly with a small nod, “You don’t have to think.”

There was a moment’s silence between them as Logan sat watching her, eyes studying the smooth, pale contours of her face. The gentle breeze tantalised with her brunette locks, ivory streaks dancing across her eyes in an enticing manner. It beckoned for him to reach out and slowly catch the hair in his hand, fingers sliding down her temple and behind her ear to tuck the strands free from her face. “God, I wish things were different,” he said in a soft murmur, his hand slipping down to rest against her face. Overnight, his predicament had grown, his emotions doubled. If he didn’t want Rogue to die before, it was nothing compared to how he felt now, since he had held her and kissed her. He wanted her more than ever, and it tore his heart out to know that their time together would be fleeting. Logan felt his chest twinge in heartbreak when he saw her eyes well with unmistakable tears, and immediately cursed himself for saying his thoughts. She didn’t need his worries on top of hers.

“Me too,” she managed to utter in response, her voice broken with tears. Her eyes slowly closed as tears trickled from under her eyelids. Logan knew that now it would be even harder for both of them to accept the oncoming fate. It made him want to turn away and try to ease himself out of the affection before it was brutally torn from him. But he couldn’t, he was transfixed.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, aware of how utterly pathetic that must have sounded. But he couldn’t bear to see her tears fall. “Don’t cry..” he said again, quieter this time, his thumb extending to wipe the droplets from her closest cheek.

She gave a great inhale of breath, her eyes slowly opening, “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “But if anythin’, surely this tells us to enjoy what time we have left together. I know you’ll regret it if you don’t, Logan.”

“I don’t think I can, Marie,” he replied quietly. “The knowledge I’m goin’ to lose you as soon as I have got you is too much..”

“You can,” came the soft cry as Rogue stared at him. “You can if you love me, Logan!”

“That’s the same reason why I can’t,” Logan said as he slowly stroked his thumb against the soft skin of her cheek.

Rogue shook her head slowly, tears rolling down her cheeks, “No,” she murmured weakly, “Your head is sayin’ one thing, but I know your heart is saying the other.” She leant forward, slowly bringing her arms around his shoulders as she gazed up into his face, “Do you love me, Logan?”

There was silence as Logan slipped his hand to her face, brushing his knuckles down her cheek tenderly. “Since the day I met you.”

There was a bittersweet smile on Rogue’s face as she blinked the tears from her eyes, “Then love me, Logan. It’s not that hard.”

Logan’s eyes carefully studied her face before he gave a faint smile, leaning forward to slowly push his lips against hers and savour the painless touch they could share. He felt her push against him eagerly once their lips met, her body soon straddling his lap like it had in the early hours of that morning. It was less driven this time, uncontrolled lust pushed aside to share what they both really wanted. Actions were loving and careful, every touch expressing adoration. But it was only so long before both of them were buckling under the heavy desire and what had started as a tender kiss was turning passionate and ravenous.

He felt her hands trail the path they had traced hours before, his shirt being torn over his shoulders and off of his arms. Vest soon followed, their kiss being broken as the clothing was ripped over his head and thrown aside. Rogue pulled back to stare at him, lust-filled eyes darkly boring into his in challenge, for his hands were yet to leave her hips.

Goading, Rogue’s hands deftly unfastened the buttons of her blouse, purposely driving his eyes downward. She saw him hesitate, a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. A cautiousness she wanted him to be rid of. She almost saw him finch when she pulled her blouse open, gaze slowly travelling up her torso before returning to her face. Here, Rogue spread a most alluring smile, casually shrugging the material from her shoulders and off of her arms. She was caught by surprise when Logan pushed his lips up against hers; forcing such a fiery kiss that Rogue knew her provoking had been successful.

His hands carefully grasping her shoulders, he lowered her down onto her back in the long stems of grass, their torsos disappearing amongst the tall, lush pasture. Steadying himself over her, he delicately lifted a hand to free the hair from her flushed face. “Don’t just stay quiet if somethin’s wrong,” he murmured quietly. “I want you to let me know.”

There was an undeniable smirk that split across Rogue’s lips, pure mischievousness on her face as she replied, “I assure you I won’t stay quiet.”

Logan’s eyebrows rose as he watched her, his surprise ebbing away as he matched her smile. “You’re terrible, d’you know that?”

But Rogue merely shrugged her shoulders in a coy fashion, lifting her head to bring her lips only millimetres from his. “Yeah, but you love me for it,” came her response. Logan closed the distance between their lips, a hand tracing the slim column of her throat exploringly. Lips met firmly once more, full of promises to live their lives for this moment, despite what their approaching future held.

Chapter 14
“I tried so hard and got so far. But in the end, it doesn’t even matter.” – Linkin Park

Logan was roused by a content warmth enveloping him in the bed, his eyes slowly blinking open to witness morning sunshine streaming in through Rogue’s bedroom window. He slowly lowered his eyes onto the body that was curled up against his torso, a mix of brown and white strands strewn over his bare chest. He carefully eased his arm backwards from Rogue’s shoulders, slowly as to not stir her, before his hand delicately pulled her hair back from her face so it didn’t obstruct her features. Having successfully moved her hair without waking her, Logan slowly lifted his gaze back towards the window, at ease in the gentle, peaceful atmosphere of the morning.

They had returned back to the mansion in the late evening, stumbling and staggering half dressed from the garage towards Rogue’s bedroom. Their clothes had been haphazardly thrown back on for mere decency as they navigated down the dark corridors, unseeingly locked in their embrace. It was astonishing no one saw them, or heard them. It was only behind her closed door did the clothes soon find themselves carelessly discarded for the second time that day.

But that had been yesterday, and today, Logan was pleased to wake up feeling content and not guilty. For the first time in a few months, everything felt right in the world. With a few gentle murmurs, he felt Rogue stir against his chest, slowly lifting her head a few inches to peer around idly. “Mornin’,” came Logan’s rough murmur, summoning her attention onto his face.

“Hey,” she whispered in reply, a lazy smile crafted across her lips. “How long have you been awake?”

“About fifteen minutes,” he responded, his eyes studying her gentle features in the morning rays.

Rogue slowly turned onto her side, a hand trailing across his chest before holding him tightly. “I hope you weren’t bored.”

“How could I be bored?” said Logan with a wry smirk, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.

“I don’t know,” replied Rogue coyly. “There’s not much to look at in my room.”

Logan shook his head with an amused smile, “There’s plenty to look at, darlin’.” He then saw a mischievous grin flicker across her lips before she began moving, easing closing to him. “What’s this?” he asked quietly as her face drew level with his.

“Felt like sayin’ good mornin’ properly, sugar,” said Rogue with a sleepy smile, pressing her lips up against his delicately, her smile creasing the corners of her lips when she felt him respond. Logan gently pushed his lips towards her, brushing against them a few times before he finally closed his lips about hers and kissed her.

“Well,” he murmured as she relaxed back from his lips, “I can handle that. I want to say good mornin’ properly too.” He leant in to kiss her again, his arm tightening about her shoulders. One hand absently trailed down the side of the torso, following the smooth flow of her body from her chest to her thigh. Everything was about imprinting her in his mind. He never wanted to forget this morning where he was able to lay in bed and hold his Marie in his arms in the soft glow of sunlight.

Pulling back, Rogue grinned at him again. “Now, if that’s how every day starts, I’m already a very happy woman.” Logan smirked at her for a moment before he carefully lowered her back into the bed. He slowly sat up, easing himself towards the edge of the mattress. “Hey, where you goin’?” asked Rogue quickly, extending a hand out to grab his.

Logan swiftly looked round at her, then giving a smile, “You stay in bed. I’m gonna head down to the kitchen.”

Releasing his hand, Rogue rolled onto her back, coyly arching her arms over her head on the pillow. “Breakfast in bed?” she asked in an amused tone, peering up at him sleepily. “I didn’t have you pinned down as a romantic, Logan.”

“I’m not,” he replied as he leant over the bed to kiss her again, welcoming the scent of her as he drew closer. He pulled back, flashing her a grin before he pulled himself out of the bed, finding his clothing from the mix and match of his ‘n’ hers strewn over the bedroom carpet.

Pulling his leather belt into it’s designated hole, he glanced over her at and saw her watching him brazenly. He chuckled to himself as he threw his vest top on over his head. He headed towards the doorway, unhooking her dressing grown from the hook on the door, “Behave yourself while I’m gone,” he threw the attire at her playfully round the opened door before he matched her smirk and shut the door upon exiting.

Logan sauntered on down the corridor, absently hitching his jeans up by the hooks. He padded along without a sound, bare feet caressing the polished floors in silence. A hand fastened his watch about his wrist, securing the leather under the metal buckle before twisting his arm to check the time. It was right in the middle of the breakfast rush. But today, Logan felt he could handle it. The kitchen door was soon upon him, and he swung it open, ambling inside.

“Mornin’,” he greeted the room at large, the gathered staff of the mansion looking round at the entry. Storm and Beast shared surprised looks over their bowls of cereal. Logan never greeted anyone in the morning. At best, it was a primal grunt as he devoured his breakfast like he had freshly killed it.

“Good morning, Logan,” replied Storm quickly after a moment of stunned silence, soon realising her manners.

Beast glanced over, also returning the greeting before he went back to his breakfast. Logan stood at the kitchen counter, helping himself to a clean mug, which he jauntily twirled his hand with a finger looped through the handle before it was placed upon the tiled work surface. Storm and Beast shared that look again. Logan was in a surprisingly good mood.

“Have a good time last night?” muttered Scott as he deposited his bowl upon the draining board besides Logan. Logan, who had been switching on the kettle, glanced towards Scott in question. Scott turned from the worktop, leaning back against it and folding his arms across his chest. “My car was gone again. All day and all night.”

Both Storm and Beast had abandoned their breakfasts to watch the unfolding conversation, Storm hovering a spoonful of muesli a good few inches from her closed mouth in pause. Logan turned a little from the counter, his hand resting on the surface. “I took a ride out. You got a problem with that?”

“Well, yes, I do, when it’s in my car. Stop using mine for your joyrides – get your own motor.”

Logan snorted quietly at this. “It ain’t yours,” he replied. “The Professor bought it. It belongs to the mansion, not you.” The kettle clicked as it boiled, summoning Logan’s attention back towards it. “So as long as I return it in one piece, there’s absolutely nothin’ wrong with me usin’ that car.”

This successfully shut Scott up, who grimaced as though swallowing something bitter and quickly departed from the kitchen with a foul expression. Logan watched the man leave with an amused smirk weaved across his lips. He caught Storm’s eye, chuckling to himself before he turned back to the mug, stirring the boiling water into the coffee granules.

“So what did you get up to yesterday?” asked Storm innocently as she ate a spoonful of muesli. “Jubilee and Kitty had a very exciting conversation regarding it; unfortunately it was in my history class.”

Aware he was now in the company of those who knew of Rogue’s condition, he turned from the counter. “Took Rogue out,” he replied simply, shrugging a little uncertainly as he added. “We just got back a lil’ late that’s all.”

“Well, I think it’s wonderful what you’re doing for Rogue,” said Storm as she rose to her feet and made her way to the sink. “We can see how much closer the pair of you have got over these past weeks.”

Logan glanced towards her. Can you really? .. he thought wryly to himself, giving the woman a small smile before he turned to pick up the coffee mug, stirring the milk in absently. “We were close before,” he eventually murmured, his eyes remaining on the contents of the mug.

“I know you were,” said Storm with a smile, resting her hand encouragingly on Logan’s arm before she bid farewell to the mutants and left to prepare for her first class of the day. Logan deposited the spoon in the sink before he gave a nod to Beast, turning and leaving to travel through the mansion to return to Rogue’s bedroom.

Steaming mug of coffee equipped in one hand, he carefully made his way through the corridors of passing students who were milling about in the corridors since breakfast in the hall. Ascending the staircase, Logan was soon upon Rogue’s bedroom door, turning the handle and entering to see her sat at her desk. “Hey, I thought I told you to stay in bed,” he said with a smirk, pushing the door closed with his foot. He made a few steps towards her, becoming aware she hadn’t responded and her head was slumped forward. “Marie?” he called cautiously, placing the mug of coffee down on the nearest surface and moving over towards her.

Her soft lilac dressing gown had been thrown lazily about her form, the silk pooling from the chair she sat in. Arms were slumped upon the desk, her head resting upon them. Her hair was splayed upon her shoulders, ivory streaks strewn over the wood of the desk. Logan came up besides her, resting his hands on her shoulders as he carefully pulled her back from the desk. She was eased back into the chair, her head lifting ever so slightly.

“Marie?” he said softly, proceeding to crouch besides her and move her hair from her face. “You should be in the bed..” Her eyes slowly glanced towards him, his own staring up at her, transfixed as he willed for her to gain energy. “C’mon, kid.. you need to get back to bed.”

“Logan..” she said softly, Logan now recognising pure fear in her gaze.

Logan shifted on the balls of his feet anxiously, lifting his hand to her shoulder. “It’s ok, kid. I’ll carry you.” His hand had only just brushed against her shoulder when he saw her head drop down a few inches, her waning energy barely keeping her head up. At this sight he quickly stood to his feet, his arms wrapping about her as he picked her up from the chair and turned to lay her on top of the bed. “There, see,” he whispered quietly as she was placed down, “It’s ok..” He continued to brush her strands from her face, now realising that his hand was trembling. She didn’t respond this time, her head had slumped back to meet the covers, and the eyes that had been on his now gazed up at the ceiling. “Marie,” he uttered, his tone quivering. There was no response. His eyes darted around her face hurriedly, his breaths quickly becoming panicked and erratic. “No..” he whispered, “No.. things will be ok!” He quickly wrapped her dressing gown firmly around her body to keep her warm, carefully but swiftly picking her up in his arms and hurrying towards the bedroom door.

He ran out onto the corridor, cradling her limp body tightly to his chest. Reaching the landing, he sprinted towards a group of chatting students by the staircase. “Get out of my way!” he growled at them, roughly barging through them and pursuing towards the lift. A student was stood there, about to enter the silver lined walls when Logan practically threw them aside and entered the lift, pressing the button to cause the lift doors to close and descend to the lower levels. Panting, he stared down at Rogue, feeling his chest heave with terror in every breath. “It’ll be ok,” he whispered again, pulling her towards him and kissing her forehead. The lift doors obligingly parted as they reached the underground floor of the mansion but they barely had time to open when Logan ran through them, running towards the infirmary and hurriedly entering through the parting doors. “Beast!” he abruptly shouted, the furry mutant peering his head round the door from the laboratory. The man only had to see Rogue’s limp body in Logan’s arms to assess the situation; he swiftly came through, indicating for Logan to place her on the centre table.

Logan did as designated, laying her down with utmost care, but staying by her side as he gazed down into her unresponsive face. Beast was soon opposite him, his concerned eyes taking in her appearance. He gently pulled open her dressing down, remaining true to his non-judgemental profession, as he didn’t even bat an eyelid to the underwear she wore below it. His large fingers sought out the pulse at her neck, cautiously feeling around there several times. Logan could only watch as Beast swiftly moved round the infirmary, returning with items to use to help rouse Rogue. Eventually his fingers returned to her neck, a frown evident.

Logan watched anxiously, a few minutes of tense silence being broken as he abruptly spoke, “What is it?”

Beast carefully pulled his hand back from Rogue’s neck, studying Logan over the top of his glasses. “Logan..” he said softly, “We all knew it would come to this.. – “

“No!” said Logan quickly, shaking his head fiercely. “No,” he said again, louder, as though to drown Beast out. He was still shaking his head, albeit slowly, with much less energy. He turned away from Beast and Rogue, his shaking hands being forced into folded arms. A hand slowly lifted to rub against his face wearily, finishing up at his closed eyes. His stillness was brokenly after a short while as he spun out of the poignant silence and harshly smashed his fist down onto the edge of the metal table with a fierce hiss of, “Goddamnit!” Logan slowly opened his eyes, looking towards Rogue with a returned tenderness. He closed the distance by her head, staring down at her. He extended his hand towards her face, his skin cupping the soft but noticeably cool texture of her skin. “I want to save you,” he whispered to her, moving to place his other hand at her opposite cheek. “Let me heal you,” he said shakily, watched by a solemn looking Beast. Logan shook his head slowly at his fingers remained in painless contact with her flesh.

“Logan..” Beast said softly, but was cut off as Logan threw him a harsh glare.

“Shut the hell up!” he growled at him, his eyes noticeably welling in tears, his face contorted with despair and frustration.

Exhaling a soft sigh, Beast bowed his head, “I’ll leave you alone for a short while. I must inform Charles.” The mutant turned and made his exit, Logan’s eyes falling back onto Rogue’s face as the doors whirred shut behind Beast.

“I’m supposed to save you,” he told her tearfully, stroking his fingers down her face. Panting, he exhaled a shaky breath, dry sobs caught in his throat. “I’M SUPPOSED TO SAVE YOU!” he yelled out fiercely, his voice reverberating harshly around the silver walls of the medical bay. With a choked sob he turned from her, sliding down the smooth metal of the console panel until he reached the floor. His face was pressed against his folded arms atop his knees, shoulders quivering with each silent sob that racked his slumped torso.

Nothing could have prepared him for cold, harsh reality of the situation.

His beloved Marie was dead.

Chapter 15
“When there is pain, there are no words. All pain is the same.” - Toni Morrison

Nothing had been touched since that day. No one had entered that room. Some didn’t want to, others refused entry by Logan. That being said, Logan himself hadn’t ventured back to Rogue’s bedroom since her death, which had been over a week ago. But today, he slowly moved towards the bedroom door, which had been left partially open after his hasty exit with Rogue’s dying body. His fingers carefully took the round handle, feeling the cool, solid brass against his fingertip before his knuckle clenched and he pushed the wooden door open.

Every item had been left the same. The bed still disturbed, covers pushed back from their exits. Rogue’s clothing still littered the floor from their antics, her chair pushed back from its desk; the seat which Logan had found her slumped in. Logan quietly made his way into the room, shutting the door behind him. He hadn’t been able to return to her bedroom because he didn’t want to see it void of her presence. She had been here for so long in the run-up to her death, it would be so raw to see it empty, and know why. The curtains were open against the afternoon sunshine, which filtered into the bedroom and lit it up in an ethereal glow. Passing across the room, Logan reached her desk, his fingers slowly running over the top of the wooden chair she had been sat at. His eyes slowly ventured upon her desk, seeing what he had missed that previous week. A piece of paper was set on its surface, an uncapped pen left not far from its side. Frowning, Logan slowly extended his hand to pick it up, recognising it to be a letter.

It was lengthy, filled with Rogue’s delicate handwriting.

‘To Mum and Dad,

I know it’s been a long time since I left home. And I know I haven’t contacted you since, but I am doing so now, and I hope you get this as soon as possible. First of all, I want to explain everything that has happened to me this year, because I need you to understand why I ran away. Of course, the rumours were true, I’m a mutant, and yes, my powers are dangerous. That’s why I had to go. I couldn’t endanger my family and hurt them the way I had hurt David. I hope he’s ok now, he came out of his coma just before I left, didn’t he? Anyway, I was on my own for quite a while, but I decided to start my road trip up to Canada, you know how much I’d been wanting to do that. I remember you getting fed up of me telling you about it. It was harder than I had imagined. I got lost a few times. I guess I’m just lucky I had some people to help me out, one of them being Logan. I know you wouldn’t like him, Dad; when you first see him, he’s got this untouchable, dangerous look to him. The kind of man you’d want your seventeen-year-old daughter to avoid at all costs. Well, I hitch hiked with him, because he was a mutant too. I needed someone like me, and he was the only option I found in the middle of Canada. But he’s still with me now. Don’t ever judge people by their appearances, but this guy has protected me so many times. He’s a genuine hero to me; I love him for everything he’s done for me, for everything he’s still doing.

I wasn’t hitchhiking with him for long. It was actually the grand total for fifteen minutes before we were ambushed. But that’s where the X-Men came in. You might have heard of them in the news. There’s a school in New York that’s especially for mutants, for kids like me, and for people like Logan. For mutants who need a home, and to be accepted and cared for. This is where we were taken, and where I sit now, writing this letter. It’s a huge mansion, you’d love it, Mum, and it’s got one of the most beautiful pianos I’ve ever seen. I even tinkled the ivories a few times when no one was looking; I kept my practise up for you, Mum. But this place is more than school; it’s a home, filled with people who understand me. Professor Charles Xavier is one of the nicest guys you could ever meet. He’s run this place, and the X-Men. He wants humans and mutants to co-exist. This place is the good guys. Not all mutants are bad; you’ve got to understand that.

But, there are bad guys too. Bad guys that were after me, come to that. Did you see the Liberty Island incident on the news? Well, I was in the middle of all that. I almost died there, but Logan saved me. His mutant power is healing, and because of my skin, when a mutant touches me, I borrow their powers. So you can see how Logan’s came in useful. I know this all sounds pretty dramatic, but I still did my homework when I got back to the mansion! We had some trouble after that, some guy called Stryker attacked the mansion and took some of the kids. The X-Men had to fly out and stop him, but one of them got killed.

It’s so hard with these prejudices. This is why if I can change your minds about mutants, then at least I’m making a difference with my own family. We’ve all got problems here. I can’t touch someone without almost killing them, Logan can’t remember anything about his past. He has these horrible dreams.. and since we touched, I sometimes get those dreams myself. He’s got a heart of gold behind all this tough exterior, and to know someone has done experiment on him, and tortured him.. it breaks my heart.

But now we’re up to date, this is my life now, and this is the main reason why I’m writing to you. I’ve have got to be blunt, it’s too hard to try and make it sound easier. I’m sick, and I’m dying, and not even Logan can save me this time. I can’t really describe what’s wrong with me, it’s pretty much unique, but its symptoms are similar to cancer. I don’t have much longer left, and I don’t think I’ll be able to finish this letter in time. I keep adding to it every day, but I know every day is bringing me closer to the end. Logan has been by my side all the way; he’s taken care of me so much.

When you’re reading this, I’m probably already dead. I only hope someone at the mansion will send it for me. But I’m happy now, life got better for me in the end. Even my powers disappeared the sicker I got. I know I’m only eighteen, but I’ve been lucky enough to find love. And it’s not some stupid crush anymore. I’ve got Logan, and I love him. When I’m gone, it’s going to tear him apart, I know it.

I’ve lived so much in these past few years than I have in my entire life, and I don’t regret anything except for running away. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I just hope you can forgive me, and treat mutants differently. That is –‘

The letter was harshly ended with the letter ‘s’ scrawling untidily down the piece of paper. The tears were creeping out of Logan’s eyes despite his efforts, his eyes trailing the blots of smudged ink where Rogue’s own tears had ruined her neat scroll of writing. The unfinished status, the untidy ending, both told Logan that this was why she had been sat at her desk. She had wanted to finish her letter, but during it, she had taken a turn for the worse. She had been dying.

She had guessed correctly in her letter when she was concerned she wouldn’t finish it in time. Her exhaled a soft sigh as he folded the letter up gently, slipping it in it’s nearby envelope and pocketing it in his jeans. He eased himself down into her desk chair, leaning one elbow towards the tabletop as he held his head wearily in a hand. Everything about this room reminded him of Rogue. Every possession she had displayed, the very scent of her that filled the four walls. His eyes were still burning with tears, and he roughly rubbed at them to cease the pain and try to vanquish any tears that threatened to fall. Despite him being able to keep his emotions just under control, it was the same inside. Inside he was wreaked. Inside, he was sobbing tears he thought wouldn’t ever end. The knowledge he wouldn’t even hear her voice, see her smile or kiss her lips ever again was horrendous.

Logan didn’t know how long he had sat at her desk in silence. His bowed head only supported by a hand splayed across his forehead and eyes, constantly fighting to keep his grief under control. Behind him, a quiet, timid knock emitted from the closed door. Logan just grunted quietly, but this was enough to prompt the person behind the door to enter. Storm slowly look in, her eyes so finding Logan’s sullen form sat hunch at the desk. “Logan,” she called gently, “the funeral’s about to begin.”

Chapter 16
”The language of friendship is not words but meanings.” - Henry David Thoreau

Black is such a sombre colour. It never manages to convey anything positive. It’s dreary and dull against the vibrant colourful gardens of Xavier’s grounds. Logan stood out on the stone patio at the side of the mansion, his higher vantage point giving him a view down over the hedges and rolling flowerbeds, down to the gathering sat before Rogue’s headstone and coffin. Despite his closeness with Rogue, Logan did not venture down to join those attending the funeral. Nobody had questioned his intention for not wanting to be present whilst the rest of the school was there, but Logan understood why they went ahead with it anyway. Rogue’s death had been a huge, unexpected shock for those as the mansion who had had no idea of her illness. She was the loss of a student, a friend, one of the mutant family.

Watching from afar, Logan could still hear the sermon without being close enough to gain unwanted attention. He saw Storm catch his eye at one point, and she sent a reassuring smile towards him through her gentle tears. He nodded towards her in response, grateful for her concern. Logan was relieved he wasn’t sat with the crowd when the coffin was lowered down into the soil, because he felt tears trickling from his eyelids, and he would hate for the others to see him in such a state, despite him having every right to display his grief for his Marie. Logan exhaled a gruff sigh, a hand lifting to rub heavily at his stinging eyes, trying to quell his tears and remove all evidence of them. The next time he looked up, the mass of black were rising as one, and beginning to make their way back into the mansion. The chairs were being gathered up by no apparent individual, clearly some telekinetic student aiding the staff, as the chairs were carried off to be put away in a neat stack.

As the funeral gatherers left, Logan began to make his way down past the crowd, keeping his head bowed. That was until he felt a harsh shove against his shoulder, surprisingly heavy enough to hurt. His head shot upward to see who had vindictively cuffed his shoulder, and turned to see Bobby Drake stood a few feet behind him, the crowd still passing either side. Logan was no fool; he could see the younger mutant had been hit badly by Rogue’s death. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, though his voice remained quiet and unsteady.

But Logan could respond, another voice spoke up. “Bobby.” Logan glanced over his shoulder to see Storm stood not too far back, giving Bobby a sympathetic, but warning look. Now was not to time to lay blame. But it seemed not even the weather witch could quell the boy’s anger.

“You knew!” he said fiercely, now pointing a finger at Logan. “You should have told me!”

“It was Rogue’s decision!” replied Logan loudly, her name bringing the attention of the passing crowd who all nervously glanced towards the dispute. “Rogue wanted to go peacefully, out of the spotlight. I would never have betrayed her trust by spreading it around!”

Bobby was glaring at him, “But what about me?” he asked angrily, now forcing himself forward past the other students. Luckily, Colossus was stood nearby and quickly took hold of his friend before he did something he would regret.

“Come, Robert,” he said placidly, carefully bringing Bobby away from Logan and indoors with the others. Bobby allowed himself to be drawn away from Logan, turning and sullenly walking towards the mansion, Colossus resting a reassuring arm around his shoulders. Logan watched his retreat with slightly narrowed eyes, gaze then flickering towards the last of the students, who had now all passed and made their way indoors.

“We will go inside now, Logan,” came a gentle voice, and Logan turned round to see Charles sat watching him, flanked by his X-Men. Each of them was adorned in black attire, a solemn look upon their faces. “You know where we are if you require us.” Logan managed a small nod in response, standing aside to let the Professor move forward along the path, Scott reaching the door and holding it open to grant the wheelchair access. As soon as the doors closed, Logan made his way down the stone path, his eyes fixated on the headstone that slowly came closer to him the further he walked.

He could make out her name carved into the smooth grey marble, and already he had a rising desire to turn and leave. Despite having seen her dead body, this seemed to be another heart-shattering piece of evidence to prove that she was gone and never coming back. He trod on forth across the lush, green lawns, his eyes unable to leave the lonely headstone, stood under the shade of a gentle willow tree. He carefully crouched down in front of it, lifting his hands to slowly trace the carved words that stood out to him so painfully.

“Hey, kid..” he said softly, words automatic. Logan quickly frowned, bowing his head. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. You’ve been by my side for six months, but I ain’t always been by yours. I’m sorry for that, Marie. I really am.” His fingers moved across the inscription of her name. “I know how hard all this has been, I just hope I did enough to make you happy. And trust me, there ain’t ever gonna be another woman who will be able to call me ‘sugar’, that was yours, kid.” He exhaled a heavy sigh, lifting a hand to rub firmly at his tearing eyes. “I’ve made so many promises to you. Some I’ve broken. But I won’t break this one.” His hand fell to his pocket to pull out the neatly folded letter he had found on her desk. “I’ll get this letter to your family, and make sure that they understand and love you once more as much as I do now.”

He shook his head weakly to himself as he stared at her headstone, pocketing the letter before he brought both hands to his face to dig his palms fiercely into his tearful eyes. He exhaled a long, drawn out sigh, lifting his head to gaze unseeingly up at the heavens. “What am I gonna do without you?” he murmured aloud, closing his eyes again to try and cease his tears.

It made no difference that he had been forewarned of Rogue’s fate. It did nothing to make him feel less distraught now. The only thing he could hold in content was the fact she had been happy before she died, happy with him. To know he had given her what she would have waited a lifetime for was warming. She had always wanted him, and now she had him, even in death, and Logan would never forget that. Breathing in deeply to calm his emotions, he leant forward to place a gentle kiss against the top of the headstone, then standing to his feet. His head turned to scan the deserted grounds, not a leaf trembling in the still air. It felt peaceful. It felt right. He gently allowed his hand to slip from the headstone as he turned on his heel, sniffing and ensuring his eyes were dry as he made his way swiftly towards the mansion, entering through the side door.

He went straight to his bedroom, making no detours or allowing anything to distract him. Opening his door, he continued his swift pace, carrying the gait of a man who was in a hurry, and would wait for no one. Throwing open his wardrobe, he dragged his kitbag out of the top of the compartment, throwing it down on the bed and beginning to pile clothing and other necessary items into it. Out on the corridor, footsteps sounded and stopped. Logan glanced round during his packing to see Storm looking at him through the gap in the opened door.

“Logan?” she asked softly, moving towards the threshold but not entering. “Where are you going?”

Logan quickly resumed his packing even as she spoke, shoving more items into his kitbag, hurried pace not slowing. “Mississippi,” he grunted, continuing to tread the path back and forth from his dresser to the bag.

At this response, Storm frowned a little, her eyes following his motions as he moved across the room. “You’re leaving for good?”

Logan hesitated at the doorway of the wardrobe, his hand gripping the wooden door as he stood staring into it. “I don’t know,” he said softly, bowing his head a little. “Maybe. I have nothing left here.”

“Logan, you’ll always have friends here. We’re fam – “

“Rogue was my family,” he interrupted, his stillness destroyed as he quickly picked up a belt and threw it down into the kitbag.

Storm’s eyes continued to fixate upon his every movement, back and forth across the room as he followed the same path between the kitbag on the bed and the opened dresser. “Don’t think that there’s no one here that cares about you, Logan,” she said, now venturing a little further into his bedroom. “We’re all grieving, but we can get through it together.”

There was a weak laugh from Logan that held zero humour in its bitterness. “You just don’t get it do you?” he said softly, looking towards her once more. “Without Rogue, I have nothin’. Nothin’ at all.”

“I think in time you will come to realise that is not entirely true,” said Storm quietly as she watched him. “There will always be a room here at the mansion for you, should you ever return to us. I only hope you won’t hesitate should you need us.”

Logan shrugged at this; throwing his wallet into his bag and proceeding it zip it up. “I’m goin’ to Mississippi,” he grunted in a finalising tone as he threw his leather jacket on over his shoulders, shoving his arms through. “And I have no clue if I’ll return.” He picked up his bag off of the bed, throwing it over one shoulder and striding towards the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he made his way past her, stepping out onto the corridor and making his way along.

“Logan..” Storm called as she came out of the doorway, frowning gently as she watched the man who had become her ally and team-mate turn the corner to disappear from view.

Naturally, Logan had heard her words during his retreat, but did not pay heed to them. He kept up his pace, making a beeline for the garage. Occasional gatherings of students, still in their funeral attire stopped and stared as Logan passed, with the dress and gait of a man who was leaving without hesitation. Nobody spoke, for they already knew nothing would stop him.

Hurriedly travelling down the staircase, Logan was only a few feet from the entrance to the garage when his name was called again. Logan continued without stopping, his hand taking the doorknob.

“Logan! Hey, wait!” the voice persisted, followed by running footsteps. Soon enough, Logan saw a fair-skinned hand on the door, keeping it closed. Logan narrowed his eyes slowly at this disruption, turning his reddened eyes on the mutant who had stopped his exit. Scott Summers was watching him through his red lenses, face free of any conceited expression. He appeared genuinely concerned and absent of any vindictiveness over their previous disputes.

“What the hell do you want?” Logan growled out.

Scott didn’t rise to the challenging growl, but instead lifted his other hand. “You’re gonna need transport,” he pointed out, then throwing a set of keys towards him. Logan’s superior reflexes caught the keys without a single fumble. He turned his fist towards his face, uncurling thick fingers to see the keys to Scott’s prized Mazda, the same car he had constantly borrowed to take Rogue out. Logan frowned a little, then suspiciously looking back up towards Scott, as though expecting a catch. The X-Men leader gave him a small smile. “Just don’t scratch her up, alright?” and his hand left the door to allow Logan to ease it open.

“Thanks,” Logan uttered softly, his fingers closing about the cool keys once more.

Scott nodded his head slowly, “No problem.”

There was a silent nod from Logan, who turned, striding on through the door to enter the garage, soon enough locating the parked vehicle he held the keys for. Making his way over, he unlocked the boot, tossing his kitbag inside. Dropping the boot shut, he proceeded around the car to meet the driver’s door, opening it and easing himself inside. He sighed as he glanced around the interior, keys jangling quietly in his hand. “Mississippi, it is,” he said softly to himself. Keys met the ignition, the soft purrs of the engine coming to life under the coaxing turn of the key. The garage doors obligingly parted to the exiting vehicle; a snarling rev, a screech of the tyres upon gravel and he was gone from the mansion.

Chapter 17
”Time takes away the grief of men.” - Desiderius Erasmus

Quaint and idyllic. There was no other way to describe the house, which Logan had stopped the car near. He had wound down the car window, having parked on the opposite side of the road to observe the physical address that had been indicated on Rogue’s letter. White wooden slats framed an equally picturesque porch, hemmed with graceful honeysuckle, which cast a delicate scent into the air. But Logan had not just arrived. Since pulling up the car by the roadside, he had sat there for almost an hour, holding the letter in his hand, going over his many thoughts. The peaceful air was only occasionally permeated by a soft rumbling of a passing vehicle, mixed with a distant dog’s yaps and the excited shrieks of playing children in a nearby garden. Slowly, Logan turned his eyes back towards the house, exhaling a low sigh. He had come here for Marie, and there was no way he could allow himself to back out of the task he had assigned to himself. He had promised Marie he would deliver this letter, and he couldn’t break that promise.


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A warm comfortable glow of afternoon sunlight filtered into Priscilla D’Ancanto’s kitchen, partially split by the horizontal blinds and casting golden strips of light across the floor tiles. With her dark, curled locks tied back from her face, she proceeded to complete a successful day of bakery, preparing a homemade pie for her and her husband’s dinner. However, their days hadn’t always been this calm since their daughter’s disappearance. Despite everything that had happened, they didn’t want to lose her to any authorities, but realised they had to accept Marie’s decision. It had been a difficult fourteen months to live without her presence in the household, but they were finally beginning to resume a routine to what could be called a normal, everyday life. Priscilla was just sliding the pie into the oven when she heard the musical chime of the doorbell over the sounds emanating from the small radio on the kitchen worktop.

“Just a minute!” she called loudly from the kitchen, quickly shutting the oven door. She wiped her hands clean on her apron, which she took off to drape over one of the kitchen chairs. The doorbell rang once more, earning an irritated tut from Priscilla as she strode out of the kitchen, muttering under her breath about impatient people these days, and how this had better not be a salesman. Reaching the front door, she unlocked the catch, pulling it open to find a most unlikely figure stood out on the porch.

She stared openly for a moment, eyes taking in the burly appearance of a large, tall man, clad in worn leather and denim, who was stood to one side with a hand in his tight jean pockets. The other was in the process of pulling a cigar from his lips, breathing out the furls of smoke as he watched the road.

“Can I help you?” she asked quickly, finding a desire to back away when the man quickly looked round at her, lowering his cigar down. A fierce mane of dark brown hair swept back from his face, which was framed with thick muttonchops. Her only excuse for not slamming the door shut was when his eyes met hers, for they were void of hostility and looked deeply solemn and dejected. It was then she realised she was staring back at her with the same assessing scrutiny, a man who was willing to take his time to analyse an individual with great attention.

“Are you Priscilla D’Ancanto?” he then asked, voice so typical for his hefty, rough appearance; for his tones were deep, low and ultimately mesmerising.

Priscilla hesitated, as if weighing up her options before she decided there was nothing wrong with being honest for the moment. “Yes, I am,” she held her chin a little higher, as though he may attack if he detected fear on her.

“Right,” he murmured quietly, propping his cigar back into his mouth as a hand lifted the loose opening of his leather jacket to pull something out of an inside pocket. “I got somethin’ for you,” he explained as he did this, then producing a slightly crumpled envelope and passed it towards her.

She took it slowly, frowning a little as she glanced downward. There was no name on the envelope. “Oh, right. Thank you,” she said, peering towards him inquisitively when he remained stood at the door with apparently no plan on departing just yet. “Who are you?” she then asked in a dignified voice, deciding she had a right to know just who this dangerous looking man was and why he was on her doorstep.

“Logan,” was his simple answer, now nodding towards the letter, clearly wanting her to open it. “Read that, it’ll make sense. I promise.”

Proceeding to open the envelope, Priscilla spoke as she began to tug out the neatly folded letter inside. “And who is it from?” She didn’t need the answer to that question, and Logan knew that, for her eyes widened as she saw the delicate handwriting of her Marie. “Oh!” she said in a breathy gasp, immediately feeling her eyes sting with overwhelming tears. She gazed up at Logan, clutching the letter protectively. “You know my daughter?”

“Yeah..” he replied quietly, almost hesitantly. “Look, you gotta read the letter.”

Swallowing to quell her rising breaths, she nodded her head, “Would you like to come in? I can make you a coffee or - ?”

“I’m fine, honestly,” he grunted, and after stubbing out his cigar, he obligingly stepped into the house, peering around the hallway. He felt distinctly out of place.

“Well, come through,” Priscilla said hurriedly, waving her head in the direction of the kitchen, shutting the door behind him. “This is the first time I’ve heard from Marie in so long. Owen and I have been going frantic. No phone calls, no letter, no emails. We knew she left hurriedly, but was it any excuse for leaving us in this state?” she said in a rush of breath as she bustled into the kitchen, indicating one of the chairs at the kitchen table for Logan to sit in.

Slowly sinking into the seat, Logan remained silent, eyes roaming the kitchen and noticing the tantalising scent of steak and mushroom pie. Priscilla pulled out a chair besides him, having opened the letter fully and smoothed it out to read with an anxious but excited expression. Logan said nothing, as though he would spoil the words Rogue wanted to say. He remained thin-lipped, eyes now staring at his clasped hands on the kitchen table, listening to her as she progressed down the piece of paper with a frantic sweeping motion of her eyes. He glanced towards her out of the corner of his eye at one point to see her attention fixated on the paper, in time to catch a silent, ‘X-Men?’ be motioned bemusedly from her lips. Logan quickly formed a deep frown, tightening his hands together as he stared down at them with such intensity.

He was on edge listening to her read the letter, her soft breathing rate so loud to him in the silent kitchen. Then, it was permeated by a strangled intake of breath that sounded like her very lungs had just been crushed. Logan closed his eyes tightly, for he knew which part of the letter she had reached. He lowered his head slowly, fingers gripping each hand so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

“She’s dead?” came Priscilla’s uneven tones, her breaths noticeably erratic. “Marie’s dead?” Logan slowly lifted his head, peering towards her before he managed a diminutive nod of his head. It seemed this physical confirmation pushed her over the edge, for the wavering tears in her voice broke through in heartbroken sobs as she dropped the letter, throwing trembling hands over her face as she let out a wail of mingled refutation and despair.

Logan’s eyes roamed the letter as it fell down onto the surface of the table, turning his eyes from it as he forced himself to remain composed. But the sounds of inconsolable weeping from Marie’s mother were impossible to ignore and remain impassive to. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly, his voice hoarse. He didn’t even know what he was apologising for; it just felt like the only thing he could say at the moment. Was he apologising for being the one breaking the news? For being the one Marie had spent her last moments with? For not urging Marie to contact her family to amend the disputes before it was too late?

But Priscilla didn’t seem to have noticed, shaking her head slowly to herself. Logan exhaled a low sigh, looking down at the tabletop. Her cries continued to echo about the room, blocking out the jaunty song left playing on the nearby radio. However, Logan started when her hand launched out to grab hold of his fist, fixing a tight grip as she desperately curled her fingers about his. Logan’s head snapped upward at the touch, staring at her hand before he looked up to see her tear-streaked face watching him. “You were with her..” she whispered quietly, squeezing his hand. “It’s clear you have done so much.. f-for her..” Logan nodded his head weakly, now turning his hand so he could properly hold hers and offer reassurance he didn’t feel. “She loved you,” Priscilla murmured with a shaky sob, closing her eyes as fresh tears leaked. “After everything that had happened, running away.. from her own family..” she wiped at her face with her other hand, though all tear-stains were soon replaced. “We should have tried harder to accept her.. not let her run away..”

“It would still have happened,” said Logan softly. “Don’t think what happened here led to her death. It didn’t.”

“Was she..” she muttered, sniffing quietly, “Was she happy?”

Logan nodded his head slowly, “She was at her happiest when she was with me,” he felt it would be foolish to try and be modest.

A watery smile for weakly on Priscilla’s lips, nodding her head slowly as she gazed towards him. “That’s the important thing,” she said softly, sighing as she tried to wipe free her tears again. “I.. I need to ring Owen.. get him home from work..” she muttered distractedly, standing to her feet quickly.

Logan gently released her hand as she stood, watching her grab the phone off the wall and shakily key-in the number. He remained silent now, refraining from giving out his opinion. He didn’t want to intrude on the family now. These parents had lost their only daughter, he now felt like an outsider.

“O-Owen, can you come home? Now,” she said, her voice beginning to lose it’s weak control as she gave a few sobs. “I’ll tell you when you get home. Just be quick, honestly, I can’t tell you this over the phone. Just come home, now. Ok..” Priscilla sighed softly as she returned the phone to its holder, turning to see Logan on his feet. “You’re leaving?”

Logan straightened the shoulders of his jacket as he nodded his head a little. “I just came to deliver the letter.. I don’t wanna get in the way.”

“You’re doing no such thing!” cried Priscilla, taking Logan by the shoulders and forcing him back into the seat. “Owen will want to meet you. You have every right to be here after what you did for our Marie.”

“Well..” said Logan weakly, finding no argument to respond with so just weakly nodded his head. Priscilla let out a shaky sigh as she lowered back down into her chair, closing her eyes for a moment. Logan watched as she then glanced down towards the letter, taking it in her hands and beginning to re-read it with less anticipation since she already knew of the contents, but this time it was like she was combing through her daughter’s last contact and savouring every ink mark on the paper. Logan fell silent as he did this, eyes finding a knot on the wooden surface of the table to stare at unseeingly for the next twenty minutes until there was the clearly sounds of the keys being jangled in the front door.

Owen D’Ancanto rushed into the kitchen; worry clearly etched into his face as he saw his distressed wife and a brooding Logan sat at the table. “Cilla?” he said weakly as she rose to her feet, rushing over to meet him with a tight embrace that set off her tears once more.

“It’s Marie,” she moaned into his shoulder, clinging onto his shirt tightly. “She got sick, Owen. She died.”

Logan couldn’t bear to witness another response to this news, and kept his gaze on the table as he heard the same gasp escape from Marie’s father. The same one that sounded like a person’s very insides had been torn out. Closing his eyes to sooth his stinging eyes, Logan stood to his feet, the scrape of the chair signalling Owen’s attention as he stared inquisitively over to the man who stood in his kitchen.

“T-This is Logan,” said Priscilla as she lifted her head to peer through watery eyes. “He took care of her.”

Logan hesitated awkwardly before he moved across the kitchen, moving towards the parting pair to nod his head silently to Owen. “She meant a lot to me,” he said softly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he watched Marie’s father, unable to stop himself from feeling uncomfortable as he stood before the grieving parents.

“Thank you,” said Owen quietly, moving a hand towards Logan. Logan glanced towards the offered palm, then grunting as he pulled his hand free from his pocket to meet a firm, genuine shake with the other male.

“She’s already been buried,” Logan proceeded to explain. “She died just over a week ago. Her headstone is currently in the mansion’s grounds.. Professor Xavier wouldn’t hesitate to welcome you up there, give you a room to stay in and stuff.” He gestured towards the letter Priscilla continued to hold, who then passed it onto her husband for him to read. “The address is on there..” he made another small nod, then straightening.

Glancing from the letter, Owen spoke, “Might we see you there when we come up?” he asked quietly.

Logan remained silent for a moment, for he had still not concluded if he would ever return to the mansion. As he glanced between their shared expressions of grief, he nodded his head. “I will, yeah.” He bowed his head, continuing to slowly nod to himself as he turned, beginning to make his way out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Proceeding to let himself out, he glanced back to see a grateful nod being issued by Owen as he held onto his crying wife. Logan returned it, watching as the man turned to help his wife down into a seat. Feeling a strange warmth of content filling him, Logan closed the front door, turning to look out onto the quiet, sunny road.

It felt like he had just closed the door on that chapter, ending his mindless torment upon meeting her parents and having someone else who understood how much it hurt to lose Marie. He proceeded down the steps from the porch; his grieving heart alleviated somewhat. Taking in a great breath of the Mississippi air, he allowed the gentle scents of the surrounding honeysuckle to enter his senses and with a reminiscent smile, realised that it was the same scent shared by his beloved Marie.


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The End


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And that really is the end! Thank you to everyone who has sat down to read this story, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Now, if ever, is the time to leave a review! I also made a video partner to this story, which can be viewed on YouTube. Search for 'In The End Rogue Logan' and it's by Sketty24.