STORM:


It was a miserable morning, a steady rain fell, dark clouds hovered overhead, and a chilly wind blew even as I stood with the rest of the X-men and the students watching as one of our own was laid to rest. And of course the weather agreed with the somber moods of those gathered, myself included.

I could have stopped the rain, stopped the dark clouds but I didn’t. I mean what was the point; we all knew that it was a dark day, a sad day so it wouldn’t have been any better to have the sun brightly shining. So instead I let Mother Nature do her thing, washing the earth clean with her tears as I stood next to Kurt and watched another of us, our own Rogue silently fall apart. Shattered like fine crystal dropped on the hardwood floors of the mansion, she is the epitome of misery, of mystery.

Of everyone at the funeral, Rogue is the most arcane. Her face is expressionless, her eyes the only sign of her inner turmoil. I know she’s devastated - its not something you have to be a telepath to notice. There’s a tremble to her body, a paleness to her skin, and the silvery tears on her face tell of her pain. Yet there’s a strength there that I haven’t seen in too many women, nor men for that matter. There’s iron in her backbone, a strong heart that’s willing to do what ever needs doing to survive, and a soul that’s lived with the darkness enough to be comfortable in its grasp.

From the moment that they came to us, Logan and Rogue have been close. Nearly inseparable even if they both lived separate lives at least for a while. Logan left us shortly after his arrival, or rather Rogue’s rescue going to find his past. And Rogue well she just sort of went on living. Doing what teens do, dating Bobby Drake, attending school that sort of thing. I watched her bloom from an awkward, scared little girl into a beautiful young woman. Watched her develop into the woman of power that she was meant to be and it warmed my heart.

Then Logan came back and something changed.

Suddenly Rogue and Bobby weren’t such an item; suddenly Jean wasn’t the favorite in Logan’s eyes. Oh it was gradual, so slight you wouldn’t have seen it if you’d been watching them until after Alkali Lake. After that they were always doing something within sight of each other.


The nights were the worst though, the nightmares that plagued them both seemed to intensify - and many times we were woken from a sound sleep to the screams of one of them in the throes of some horror. I’ve lost track of the number of nights we’d all rush to Rogue’s room at her screams only to find Logan there already, her slight frame wrapped tightly in his arms as he rocked her gently. It never ceased to amaze me how easily he managed to go from berserker rage to soft, loving person in those instances. It was uncanny the way one could draw the other from the darkness, from the horror.

Then Bobby Drake fell out of the picture and Rogue clung to Logan and never moved on.

Oh most people just figure that it was because she didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone she couldn’t touch, couldn’t hold but I don’t believe that. I remember the countless days she came out of Logan’s room just before dawn to hurry back to hers, to shower and dress for the day. Remember how many times I’ve seen Logan and Rogue touching over the years; in ways that anyone with half a brain would recognize as a lover’s touch.

No they were bonded, friends, soul mates - complete only with the other. Now as I stare at Rogue’s shattered expression it strikes me that maybe they were so much more than what we thought they were. Maybe the reason Rogue didn’t move on was because she’d already done it! Maybe she found something with Logan that we never imagined she could have. No, that’s wrong.

We all assumed she should have moved on but standing here it strikes me that she couldn’t move on, that she had what she wanted right from the first. I have no doubt that if we hadn’t interfered, if Eric and Sabertooth hadn’t gotten in the way that day in Canada they’d have become lovers, extensions of the other without a thought. Perhaps Rogue knew that she couldn’t move on because what she had to move on from wasn’t what she had but what she could have with Logan. Needless to say it’s confusing.

Even now she’s standing rubbing her knuckles, her fists clenching unconsciously and my heart breaks a little more. In absorbing so much of Logan, this last time I wonder if she’s had a chance to assimilate the amount of him she got. I wonder if maybe she’s doing it not for her sake but for his? For the longest time after an absorption she became him, her habits altered to fit what he needed, to fit his fears, his unease.

Feeling a warm, comforting arm around my shoulders I glance up into Kurt’s eyes and sigh sadly. I do love him you know, Kurt means the world to me; he has since we met in that church so many years before, but deep down I have to admit that I did love Logan at one point. Oh I know it would never have had amounted to anything, but still it was there. After all Logan was a man easy to love, hard to tame. I think I loved him for what he did for Rogue, but I never said anything and moved on with rather pleasant results.

Now as I stand here watching the cold, solid weight of the casket being lowered into the ground I can’t help but cry a tear or two as a good friend, and an amazing man is lowered into the darkness. Part of me wishes this was a bad dream but as I glance at Rogue again I know it isn’t. That this must be hell for the young woman whose loved him for so long.


After the coffin is settled and the dirt thrown, I move with everyone else toward the mansion, pausing long enough to squeeze Rogue’s arm and offer her a slight smile before moving on without speaking of the tremble in her hands. Retreating to the safety of Kurt and I’s room to mourn for our loss, I can’t help the grief I feel, or the desire to reach out to her.


How long we were in our room I honestly can not say but I jumped when I heard the door down the hall slam. A glance at Kurt who smiled at me reassuringly did little to ease the pain I felt. The Professor had said to let Rogue mourn her loss, that trying to be some sort of support would do little but aggravate the situation - Logan was too close to the surface for her to be receptive to us at the moment.

So I follow Kurt down the hall to the cafeteria, trying to ignore the sobs from Logan’s room, the sounds of breaking glass, the audible signs of agony and loss. Instead we walk down the stairs and we eat in a room full of quiet students, junior team members, and the rain falls steadily against the windows. The clear drops trailing down the glass like teardrops and I can’t help but think that the heavens are crying for us, with us this dark day.

I do not need to even look up to know that there are two empty chairs within this room, one that Logan always occupied and one that Rogue claimed so many years ago next to him. I can still remember that day; still remember what happened ever so clearly.

Logan had walked into the room, claiming the chair easily and ignoring everyone. His sullen attitude and the memory of what he’d done to those men who’d attacked the mansion still fresh within the minds of the student body, and even more so within Bobby’s mind. Logan had sat there nursing a coffee and poking at his breakfast with a black look on his face when suddenly everyone had fallen silent and we’d all glanced at the him and then the doorway.

Rogue had stood there dressed in a pair of jeans, boots, flannel shirt, and her customary gloves and scarf in place. A perfect replica of Logan, just with a few feminine additions, her dark eyes scanning the room. I nearly choked when she walked toward our table, taking a cup of coffee and sitting down next to Logan without a word. Even I could feel the tension and fear in the room as she stole a piece of his toast before shifting, sitting back in her chair and smiling at him. Silently daring him to react to her trespass - a trespass that for anyone else would have resulted in getting skewered at best and decapitated at worst.

I swear my jaw dropped when he merely smiled at her - a real, honest to Gods, welcoming smile and tugged on the lock of white that had escaped the pulled back fate of its comrades. His fingers tangled within those pale strands letting them slid over his flesh like silk without a thought. The slight flush that climbed her face had Scott going red in the face, but I kept him under control. That was a week after the return from Alkali Lake, from the loss of Jean and Logan couldn’t have possibly looked less tore up.

Oh yes, I remember that day so well, so clearly. I remember sitting in the garden thinking that Logan and Rogue had finally lost it. I remember wishing that Rogue could find a bit of the peace that she deserved, knowing the Logan would never really be hers. I guess I was wrong; seems to me now that Rogue did get what she wanted.


So I sit here thinking of that day, thinking of all the signs, all the hints that have come over the course of the years and cursing my blindness. There were so many clues to just what was going on beneath our noses and now I’m left confused and bitter.

Confused because I don’t understand how I could have missed it, and bitter because they never really let us in. We were their friends, their family and they kept us out of the light, kept their secrets to themselves. Pushing aside the bitterness, the envy I focus on my dinner and hope that nobody wants to see Rogue right now, she doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to rejoin the world.

With a slight sniffle I smile sadly into my salad - the same salad I have been poking at for a good half hour. If that were me, if they had buried Kurt I do not doubt that I would be in the same situation Rogue is in, the same place. Her world has collapsed around her, and if I ever lost Kurt my world would fall down on me as well. The mere thought that Kurt was gone is enough to drive a dagger into my heart, reawakening the pain and I can feel the familiar burn of tears threaten again.

Reaching out I squeeze his hand even as my own hands tremble, I love this man so much and I am very glad it was not him that we lost. So very glad and in that happiness I am ashamed. Rogue lost part of her soul that day, lost the warmth of an embrace in the night while I still have mine and that makes me want to cry even more.

A glance at Scott shows that he understands better than anyone, he knows what its like to mourn the loss of your soul because he’s done it. When we lost Jean - before she came back to us, he suffered for weeks. Nights of endless tears, of insomnia, and he knows that what he felt, what he did is nothing. It pales in comparison to Rogue’s pain - because this time he’s only watching it - but he does understand and in that is able to offer some understanding, some credence to her grief!



JEAN:


It had been a miserable morning, the perfectly miserable end to a horribly expensive week. A steady rain fell, dark clouds hovered overhead, and a chilly wind blew even as I stood with the rest of the X-men and the students watching as one of our own was laid to rest.

Standing in the chill of the rain I silently cursed Magneto, Mystique, Sabertooth, and humanity, everyone and everything. We’d lost one of our own, lost a part of us that can never be replaced and it hurt me. We had no way of replacing what we’d had stolen, no way of grasping what we needed from this situation because we could not fathom it just yet.

I offered my support to Rogue then stood back and watched her retreat from everyone and everything. It’s been days and she still hasn’t come down from Logan’s room. Oh I have no doubt that she is eating, Storm said she saw her raiding the kitchen late last night taking a lot of food upstairs, and by the dirty dishes piled in the hall I’d say she ate it all.

God I had no idea, no inkling of how badly he was hurt and it wasn’t like he would have told me. When it came to Rogue, Logan was a force unto himself; always had been, always would be. He had risk so much for her, because of her that even I don’t understand their bonds. Many a womanizer will say he’s willing to do anything for a woman - but few are willing to kill themselves for her.

So I try to convince myself that had I known I would have done something; made him stop before he died. But I didn’t and he did and now we have to learn to live with that pain. And I can’t shake the thought that if I had known, if I had done something than we wouldn’t be watching Rogue slide deeper into the darkness that had claimed Logan at one time. A darkness that I’m terrified Rogue will accept will learn to live within.

I watch Rogue, feel her pain soaking my mind and know that there is a part of her that we will never be able to reach again. She’s shutting us out, turning toward the only thing in her life she really wants - the part of Logan that still lives within her and it drives me up the wall because I know she could have so much more.

Scott sees my anger, my guilt at not saving him but he doesn’t know - doesn’t understand why I’m taking this so hard. I did love Logan. Had Logan been a little more persistent, a little more willing to bend I probably would have welcomed the affair that we’d have engaged in. I knew he would welcome the sex, knew he could tell how I felt about him but I also knew Logan didn’t love me and it would have ended sooner or later perhaps badly – because he always put Rogue first.


He flirted with me for two reasons because I was safe and because it got Scott’s hackles raised something Logan loved doing. A relationship where only one person loves the other isn’t healthy - and it wouldn’t have worked for very long I know that, Logan knew that so instead he kept it to the flirting but went no further. Logan was a man who was very, very easy to love, but hard to take, to subdue. So when I came back from Alkali Lake; and I say I because the Phoenix was in control it wasn’t me that was here - I focused on falling back in love with Scott and we’ve been happy.

Almost as happy as Rogue and Logan have been over the years. Oh I know everyone around here figures that he was her protector, her guardian angel so to speak but I suspect differently. I’ve felt the heated thoughts coming from that room, felt the warm afterglow, and seen what was in their minds so many mornings when they stared at each other. Logan was never her brother, her pseudo father, or any of that other bull.

Logan was the other half of Rogue, he kept her mind free of the voices, kept her body protected, and sheltered her heart. He gave Rogue something that nobody else ever could - trust. I know that sounds funny but if you think about it you’ll see what I mean. Logan trusted Rogue not to hurt him with her touch. Frankly I don’t think he cared about her skin as anything more than a reason to be creative in the sack and that was something no one else could or would ever do. What more could any girl ask for?

And Rogue, well Rogue trusted Logan to save her, to help her, to be there for her. She saw the claws as an extension of him, a part of him that needed love as much as the rest of him. Rogue loved both Logan and Wolverine with a solid emotional base and nothing will every change that. Yes, I saw it Rogue and Logan put their faith, their trust in the other to the exclusion of all else.

Glancing up at the soft sound of a door opening I smile sadly at Rogue as she stands there in black, a sad, lost look in her eyes along with a secret smile that has me frowning slightly. She’s dressed in black, the familiar dress wrinkled and slightly askew like she’s slept in it and yet there’s a blue scarf around her throat, sequined and elegant something I’ve never seen before but know that must be important to her. I can almost smell the tears; almost hear the pain rolling through her.

“Hello Rogue,” I address her carefully, friendly and wait. Rushing her will do no good, and I do not want her to retreat after this first tentative step toward rejoining us.

“Morning Dr. Grey,” Rogue’s tone has me on high alert, she knows something, feels something and I wonder if it’s because Logan’s in her head again. “I um..”

“Yes?” Watching her fidget my curiosity peaks, and I am so tempted to open my mind to her but I know better. Rogue would not like it, and I have no intention of running into Logan’s memories again - did it once would never do it again thank you very much.

Frankly I’m in awe of Rogue being able to do that, because it gave me the heebie-geebies for three flipping weeks! Watching her walk into my office and settle on one of the examining tables I wonder what so important that she’s come to me. Rising I move toward her a warm, comforting smile on my face as I wait for her to speak.

“I want you to do a test,” Rogue says softly, her lips curling in a faint smile even as her hands flex like she wants to move them but isn’t allowing herself to - at least not yet. The far away look on her face has my heart pounding, and I can hear her mind shouting even as she sits there. I can feel the extra energy rolling off her and know that Logan is speaking to her, that he’s staying strong in her head, that he’s gotten a place in there that is his and will remain there for as long as she lives.

“What kinda test?” I ask, if she says she wants me to touch her I am going to flat out..


“Pregnancy test.”

Whoa..my brain just stopped. Did she just say pregnancy? If she did I’m going to be shitting myself for a long time. “Uh Rogue..”

She’s smiling at me now, the pain still in her eyes but beneath it a ray of hope, one so bright I can’t help but miss it even if I think she’s delusional.

“I can hear it,” Rogue whispers to me softly. “Like the steady beat of a drum, or the warmth of his touch. Its there and while its familiar it isn’t mine..”

Blinking I nod in stupefaction before reaching for a vial to do some blood. “This is the most accurate. Of course there’s the urine test but..” I stammer as I draw on a pair of latex gloves and move closer to her.

“This is fine,” Rogue says baring an arm for me to suck blood out of.

After taking the vial I smile at her, “It’ll take me a while to process the results; I’ll let you know by lunch.” I promise figuring that the results will be normal, that what Rogue’s hearing is a figment of her imagination.

“Thank you,” Rogue hops down off the table and walks calmly out the door as though she hasn’t just tilted my world beyond its axis.


A glance at the clock reveals its nearly lunch time and I still haven’t sent for Rogue. Shifting in my chair I stare at the computer screen before me and swallow hard, my chest feels tight, my brain doesn’t want to accept what I’m trying to put into it, and my entire body is shaking.

See I’m staring at the test results - results that with Rogue’s skin, and the obvious lack off attachment to anyone but Logan should be reading a big fat negative. Instead they are reading positive, she’s pregnant and I have no idea how she managed that!

And while I suspected they were having sex, for them to be having sex that led to a pregnancy denotes that they had to develop some sort of control of her skin and that sends my mind whirling again, searching for answers to questions we may never get back to.

“Hey Jean, you coming..?” Scott’s voice just sort of melted away as he stands in the doorway and stares at me.

I can feel the concern coming off him but I merely smile and turn my gaze back to the screen. I’ve run this test three times and every time it comes back the same way, perhaps we didn’t know everything. But it isn’t the blind ignorance that has me so confused it’s the mere fact that I can so clearly recognize me own emotional turmoil.


“Dr. Grey?” Rogue’s voice behind Scott who’s moving out of her way, letting her slide into the room without question. She’s dressed much the same way as before, head to toe in black, the tags around her throat along with the scarf, her hair pulled into a ponytail, her features haunted - but this time there’s a hesitation, desperation in her stance.

“Yes?”

“The results in?” Rogue demands softly, her hands clenching and unclenching.

“Yes,” God I sound like a broke record.

“Are you gonna give them to me?”

“Yes.”

“Well?”

“Yes,” I blink as I stare at it. She’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. And maybe I have, maybe I did lose it otherwise I wouldn’t be standing, staring at the young woman before me like she’s some sort of vision.

“Jean?” Scott’s moving toward me as I stand there like a bump on a log and stare at Rogue. “Jean are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper and look at Rogue. “How strong is he in your head?” I ask softly, perhaps in absorbing so much of Logan her body has merely tricked itself into believing..

“Very strong, but it isn’t him,” Rogue said as though she knew where my mind is going with my questions, rubbing her knuckles impatience in her voice. “Can I have the results?”

Reaching down I pick up a print off of the paperwork and hand it to her. Watching her take it and read it before she smiled at me was like watching the clouds part to let the sun shine through. I just made Rogue’s entire life and the weird thing is there is no physical way in hell she should still be pregnant.

Not with the pounding she took unless Logan’s healing powers were strong enough in her to protect the fetus before she absorbed him. My curiosity is starting to outweigh my shock and I’m still standing there staring at an empty doorway even as Scott pulls me to him and ushers me from the room. I wonder how this happened? How could they have created a child when she can’t be touched!


I can feel the prick of something within my heart and I try desperately to keep my face expressionless, to hide my emotions. I can feel the bitterness of jealousy fill me, and I know its illogical, its even petty but part of me wishes that it was me. That I was the one expecting a child, that I could change things. So I lean on my husband and pray that he doesn’t ever figure out just how much I wish I had taken the chance Logan offered me once so long ago. How much I wish that I could have a part of someone I love so strongly. How much I wish I was brave enough to face what Rogue is facing - single parenthood.


SCOTT:

Alright I can admit it, I may be an uptight prick some of the time but even I can see how badly Logan’s death is affecting Rogue. She hasn’t been herself in the two months since it happened. I swear she’s going crazy but Jean just smiles sadly, a curious look on her face as she watches Rogue sit in the common room watching hockey and talking to herself.

See that in itself isn’t unusual - Rogue did that every single time she absorbed some of Logan, what is unusual is this time there’s no beer in her hand, no cigar hanging out of her mouth and she’s got some funky looking metal thing and some string that she’s spending hours twisting around.

Oh wait its called yarn, and she’s crocheting according to Jean. Crocheting? Yeah I know, Rogue is hardly the type to do that but she’s learning how, teaching herself how to do things that I would never have guessed she’d want to do in this lifetime. Just the other day she was sitting in the faint glow of the setting sun speaking softly to herself, her eyes closed, a hand resting protectively on her stomach, and tears rolling down her face unchecked, her shoulders shaking with the force of her anguish.

Course she’s also going into town and shopping all day before coming back and closeting herself in Logan’s old room. This morning she woke us up pounding on the wall with the hammer - don’t ask I can’t tell you. I have a feeling Jean knows, but she’s not telling. Not to mention that many nights the soft sound of music coming from Logan’s room is hard to miss, its almost like Rogue is creating a world of her own within that room - something that’s a little scary and potentially dangerous to her mental health.

So instead I’m stuck laying awake waiting until two in the morning when Rogue goes to the kitchen to raid the fridge to ambush her and get some answers. Walking down the hall I pause before the room Rogue’s taken over and glance around. Yeah I am an idiot, there isn’t another person in the hallway but still, I kick the tiny voice of my conscience out of the way and open the door to peak inside.

Rogue’s been in the bed but she’s obviously gone to get something to eat if the rumpled bed clothes are any indication. A quick perfunctory glance reveals nothing other than a huge pile of what looks like wood, bags stacked in a corner and a few of Logan’s shirts on the bed. Several large boxes with clothes tossed over them sit around the room and the light from the bathroom is on spilling across the floor like pale, golden champagne. There is so much of Logan within this room that it’s terrifying and yet it seems to fit along with Rogue’s belongings.


The room smells of the sickeningly sweet tobacco of Logan’s cigars and the soft vanilla of Rogue’s perfume. Under it I can smell another odor that’s familiar yet I can’t put my finger on it and I wonder what it could be. I glance over at the far wall and frown even as I’m drawn to it. Obviously Rogue is painting something on the wall if the bottles of paint and brushes lying around are any indication. Glancing up I stare at the picture of a cabin set into the trees in front of a lake, and a trio of crude figures stand together. Obviously it’s a work in progress I think even as I back away from it and head for the door.

Closing the door I hurry down the hall and into the kitchen where Rogue is standing making a sandwich. Pausing in the shadows I watch her, smiling sadly at the slim woman who resembles the half starved little girl I watched grow into a woman. Despite her appearance, despite her voice something is missing in her, some little part that no one ever really thinks of is missing. Personally I think she lost it when Logan died, that in his own little way Logan was a part of who Rogue was - perhaps the most stable part and that’s a very scary thought.

So lost in my thoughts of her and Logan’s friendship it takes me a minute to realize she’s not singing she’s talking. A glance of the kitchen reveals no one, but my ears are not deceiving me. Rogue is in the midst of a conversation and I sigh softly, obviously she needs help.

“Just you wait darlin’ you’ll see. It’s going to be perfect. We’re going to have so much fun, doing all the things that you should do. Ain’t gonna be any pain neither, nothing like before. You’re always going to have laughter,” Rogue’s soft voice was filled with love, her face glowing despite the pain and haunted look that clung to it.

“I’m gonna teach now, no more fighting for me. I don’t want to lose anymore, don’t want to have to lose what I love. I can feel you up there Logan, I know you’re happy ‘bout that. Still wish you were here with me, but I’m glad I’ve still got a part of you. Still got something that nobody else will ever have,” she pauses and smiles slightly. “Yeah I know baby, I know.”

Suddenly I tense as Rogue stiffens and her head comes up slowly, her eyes darting into the shadows and falling on me.

“Something you wanted Scooter?” the low growl sounds so much like Logan I can’t help but smile, a slight chuckle eases out of me as I step into the room.

“Just wanted to check on you Rogue. Make sure you’re doing okay?” I say as I settle on a stool a few feet away from her. It’s two in the morning; she’s dressed for bed in one of Logan’s shirts, a pair of slippers and nothing else.

“I miss him,” Rogue replies softly twisting the bread bag and tucking it back into the can. “I miss waking up to him, to feeling him around me.”

I raise an eyebrow but refrain from speaking. With the nightmares it wasn’t surprising that they’d sleep together, not in the least. But to my knowledge Logan never went into town at night alone, he always took Rogue so I wonder how he was getting laid or even if he was getting laid. I know it’s not really my business, not my concern but the thought of him screwing someone while Rogue waited for him makes me angry.


“I miss having him there you know,” she says turning to me with a sad smile, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s funny really, you think you’re gonna miss the big things, you never really think you’ll miss the little things but you do. I miss the way he’d tug my hair when we were watching hockey, miss the way he smiled at me over dinner. I miss the way he touched me, the way he never stopped touching me.”

“You were very close.”

“Yes,” Rogue sighs, her face pinched, her eyes haunted and pain filled. “I loved him.”

“I know,” with a friendly pat on the back I smile at her, “We all do.”

Rising I pad to the doorway and freeze at her soft voice calling my name. Turning I stare at her for a moment, letting her decide whatever it was she was about to say was right or wrong.

“Did Jean tell you?” she finally settles on.

“No,” I’m reminded of the day I found Jean in the office looking stunned, and Rogue’s happy little smile when she got the test results back. “Jean hasn’t said anything to me.”

With a brief nod, Rogue tilts her head a little, her dark locks falling off her shoulder as she studies me. “You were wrong you know. About Logan just being my friend, my protector. He was so much more than that.”

“Yeah?” I wonder what she’s going to say. I can’t see how he could be anything else but then again I’m seeing things in a single shade not a very auspicious beginning.

“Yeah,” Rogue frowns slightly, like she’s trying to work things out in her mind. “Did you know that Logan had hidden talents? That he was a photographer? He was he made me an album of all the things that happened in our life. Left it hidden under the bed, and I cried when I looked at it. And he remembered the little things, like comments I made and forgot. Wishes I really never thought I’d have come true but he remembered ‘em. And he didn’t take ‘em for granted, he tried to make my dreams, my wishes come true. Everything he ever did was for me, because of me and I owed him so much more than he ever asked for. You know what hurts the most though?”

“No,” I wait patiently for Rogue to finish her thoughts even as she walks toward me, stopping when she’s right next to me and staring me in the eye. “What hurts the most?”

With a pained smile and a single solitary tear that rolls unchecked down her face she shakes her head at me, “That he will never get to know his son or daughter. Never get that little bit of happiness that he so deserved!”

The soft whisper leaves me rooted to the floor as Rogue walks away into the shadows of the mansion, her shoulders shaking as she sobs silently even as she hurries up the stairs to Logan’s room. With a slight frown I glance behind me at the counter and notice Rogue’s left something on it, walking back I pick up the crumpled sheet and read it carefully.


She was right, we didn’t know everything! I wonder how it’s possible. How they could have created a life to replace the one that was given; only to realize that it really doesn’t matter. Logan and Rogue were so much more than what we thought, and yet they were human. With a sad smile I tuck the paper into the pocket of my bathrobe and head back to bed.

Glad that Rogue has something to cling to, something to keep her from sliding into the darkness that would surely choke the life out of her if it was all there was. And suddenly very thankful that I have Jean to hold because I know exactly how Rogue feels. Her world was shattered, torn apart and she’s floating on a sea of misery with no sign of help in sight!


CHARLES:

I can feel Rogue’s anguish, feel her pain and I know there is little that I can do to help her get past it. Only the knowledge that she carries a child keeps her from sliding into her grief - although she has not made any attempt to be social. Rather she has withdrawn from mansion life, from those who would support her.

Which is not to say that she hasn’t had a conversation or two. Because she has. It’s just late at night or when she’s rushing about during the day. Jubilee and Kitty are both very concerned for her, Jean’s afraid that Rogue’s body is manifesting the child, Scott’s in shock and Ororo well she is torn between happiness and pity for Rogue.

Myself? I know that the concern for Rogue is real, just as is the child she carries and it wounds me. I watched Rogue this afternoon at lunch; she joined us for the first time in months. Her obvious pregnancy has aroused curiosity, and some are wondering about her now but she’s glowing with it.

The fact that she smiled today was cause for celebration and yet I wonder just how much of it has come because she’s dealt with her grief and how much of it has to do with the fact that she’s focused entirely on her baby. I can feel her pain at night especially, hear her thoughts as she speaks to Logan, to the baby, and she’s mired in it. The agony of it has shackled her to her misery and heartbreak.

I watch those around her as well, Scott and Jean are still in shock whether it’s due to her pregnancy or the fact that they didn’t realize that Logan and Rogue were lovers I do not know. Had anyone asked me I could have told them that they were, that the night we all got back to the mansion after Alkali Lake Rogue had gone to Logan and they’d started an affair that has lasted for years.

An affair that had we not interfered would have occurred the first time they’d been here, that first night had Logan not stabbed her by accident. An affair that was more than just two people engaging n carnal activities, it was a catalyst of all they wanted, all they needed. Rogue and Logan were two halves of the same whole and it showed in their every action toward the other.

Oh I am aware that they kept separate rooms, and neither was overly public about their relationship but that was more a protective action than secrecy. Both Logan and Rogue knew that there would be very strong, public opposition to their involvement and both wanted to avoid it if possible. I’ve forgotten the number of times I’ve been awakened in the darkness to thoughts from both of them and been unable to go to sleep. Many of the residents have no idea that a lot of the nightmares had faded for both of them by the time Rogue was thirty. But that did little to keep them from seeking comfort and passion in the arms of the other.


I’ve seen the effects of their passionate natures on them in the light of day, the soft, far away look in Rogue’s eyes. The tolerance in Logan’s. Its been years since he’s even attempted to provoke Scott beyond the friendly insults that are tossed daily. The only place that they were hard, uncompromising is on the battlefield and that is something that our enemies have learned the hard way. Which is why they were so determined to get one or both but that’s a thought for another time.

I’ve watched Rogue turn away from Bobby, from countless young men who are more than willing to be with her to stay within the protective arms of a man who many had misjudged for so long that he became what they thought him to be.

To the outside world Logan was a tough, uncompromising, jaded bastard but to Rogue - well he was something else. You see Logan had spent years looking for his past, for his identity until he met a skinny runaway who changed his life. The day he gave her his tags before he left I knew that it was probably going to be his last trip into his past. In promising to protect her, Logan gave Rogue a piece of himself that nobody has ever been able to claim.

You see I know Logan loved Rogue, loved her with all the passion of a man in love with a woman. And Rogue loved him with all the passion of her youth, of her life and that wouldn’t change no matter what happened to them.

Now as I sit in my office day in and day out, watching Rogue as she walks along the path that her life has taken I am forced to wonder if that love will be enough to tide her over until her grief has run its course. With a sigh I watch her as she speaks softly to her baby, her face at peace, and yet her mind is in turmoil. There is so much of Logan still within her, so much of his emotions for her that I wonder if she is truly aware that he is gone.

Tension fills me this afternoon as I sit in the pale glow of the sunlight I watch Rogue as she moves through the bodies of those around her, and settles beneath the tree where we buried Logan her back to me.

I open my mind, searching out hers and I can feel the shock course through me as I listen in on a private conversation I’m not sure I should be privy to.

*Hey baby, glad to see the flowers I planted are doing so well,* Rogue sighed, her gaze on the roses that lined the headstone. *Our baby is growing like you wouldn’t believe. I can’t wait for it to be born in a few weeks, just three more. I hope it’s a boy, if it is I’m gonna name him after you. Course I’m gonna have to think of a last name for us. Hazard sounds like a good one - especially considering who we are! I’m glad you’re resting so well Logan, I really am but I miss you. I miss waking up to you each morning, miss you holding me at night, miss our talks. Guess I’ll just have ta wait for a while to talk to you again. Course the you in my head talks to me all the time, tells me what I know you’d say in any given moment. Its one of the things that keeps me going! I love you baby, and I miss you. I promise to take care of myself and our child until we can be together again. I promise you Logan!*

*I know you will darling. I know what you’re going through to, and it hurts me that I’m not there to wrap you in my arms and protect you from this pain.*

*Oh Logan, if you were here, if you could wrap me in your arms I wouldn’t feel this pain. I just hold onto the thought that you’re still within me. That all I have to do is close my eyes and think and you’re there.*

*Oh Marie, I’m always going to be there for you. You’re the only one in this world that can ever make me want to be more than what I am. I miss you baby.*

*I miss you to. I’d better get back to fixing that dumb gate or I’ll never have the crib finished in time for this baby.*

*Give ‘em hell for me baby. Just cause I ain’t around don’t mean they gotta go slack. I love you Marie, remember that when you’ve got nothing left. Remember that I do love you, always have, and always will.*

*Any regrets?*

*Just one, that you’re hurting cause of me.*

*I don’t regret that Logan. At least I’m alive, and our child is to.*

*Any regrets?”

*Just one. That you didn’t get to see Scooter’s face when I told him about the baby! I swear despite the fact that I’ve woken more than one mansion resident up with my screams some people just didn’t get that we were lovers.*

*I wish I’d given you a ring, something..*

*You did Logan. You did. And we did marry. That night by the downed Blackbird when we faced what was between us, we said our vows as readily as we would have in a church. Never doubt that!*

*Gotta go baby,* Logan sighed, his presence in her mind shifting, easing back into the usual manner. *I love you, Marie! Forever!*

I watch as Rogue rises to her feet, dusting her hands over her belly and starting back to the mansion. Something tells me that the baby will be early, that she’s going to be a mother sooner than the three weeks and I can’t help but feel mixed emotions about this. Rogue has been very pleasant to everyone, been kind and considerate of others feelings but how will she react to those around her when she has the baby? How will that new life affect her? Affect us? For these reason I try to hide the fear I feel, but I can’t shake my hope. Hope that this will allow us to heal just a little more, allow Rogue to let go of some of her grief.


Hope as they say is eternal - and I smile as Rogue smiles at a slight breeze that ruffles her hair in a familiar way. Yes, this baby will bring many changes to the residents at the mansion but maybe those changes will be positive. Logan is at peace now, perhaps this will bring Rogue a measure of peace as well. I can only hope!


JUBES AND KITTY

Jubilee:

I know you’re probably tired of hearing bout Rogue and Logan’s thang. I know by the time he’d been back here a year I was but she was my friend so I listened to her. Listened to her talk about everything but what I would actually be interested in hearing about. I knew everything about their relationship or rather their friendship, how they met, how he was always there for her.

Now though I watch her, waiting for the other shoe to fall because she’s turned away from her grief rather than confront it. Sitting in the cafeteria the other day I nearly choked on my soup when she walked in, dressed from head to toe in black her long hair braided, her face although glowing pale, with the rather obvious figure of a woman who’s pregnant.

Guess that answers the question of whether they were shagging or not. But it raises a whole slew more. Like when did she get pregnant? Why hasn’t she told us about it? Why isn’t she turning to us for comfort instead of letting the bit of Logan in her mind be the only comfort? It’s confusing to say the least but I sigh and move on with my day.

Now Bobby’s freaking out. I mean lets face reality here folks, Bobby might be with that girl he’s with I don’t even remember her name anymore cause she’s never around - but he’s still head over heels in love with Rogue. I know it, Kitty knows it, Peter knows it, everyone knows it and we all accept it, pretend it isn’t there but we know about it.

Today though I sit here staring into my coffee cup and wondering where Rogue is. Suddenly I tense when Jean all but jumps out of her seat and races from the room, with a glance at Kitty we rise and follow the beautiful doctor up the stairs to Rogue’s room.

Despite not being telepathic it doesn’t take long to figure out what’s happening. Rogue’s gonna have the baby and we set down on the floor in the hall and stare at the closed door. Watching the sun move across the floor I shift, even as Kitty phases out and returns a few minutes later with a couple cans of coke and some sandwiches.

“Figured it might be wise to have them,” she says by way of explanation as she bites into one.

I merely nod and get more comfortable as I wait, I can hear Jean’s soft, soothing tone and Rogue’s panted responses but that’s it. Something settles into my stomach, twisting it into knots and I glance at Kitty as we sit there and realization hits me. Its dread and fear, because Rogue’s going to be hormonal and just maybe she’s gonna realize that Logan really is gone!


Kitty:


I’ve sat with Rogue more than once late at night when the nightmares claimed her mind, phasing into her room to offer her the unspoken support of a good friend. I’ve seen the way she’s closed herself off from the knowledge that Logan is gone.

She’s turned everything around in her mind and I think she really believes he’s gonna come back some day. She doesn’t understand or maybe she doesn’t want to understand that he isn’t going to come back. I’ve watched her go to his grave, and she sits there and talks to that stone like it’s gonna answer her back. I’ve watched the tears fall unchecked down her face, heard her sobs late at night and it breaks my heart because she’s one of my best friends and I can’t help her.

The news that Rogue was pregnant was a shock but once I thought about it I quickly figured that Logan and Rogue’s relationship hadn’t been conventional so why would we expect him not to make love to her?

Taking a long swallow of my coke I sit on the hard floor and stare at the bedroom door even as Jubilee watches the sun creeping across the floor. Hearing movement by the door I glance up slightly and smile at Jean who looks harassed.

“Would you two come in please?” Jean asks us. “Rogue’s gonna need some help.”

“Sure,” I agree quickly and walk into the room to note Rogue’s tired face turned toward us. There are tears that have ravaged her face, and her hands are clenched even as she bites down on her lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Hey girlfriend,” I smile at her and hurry toward her donning a pair of gloves before taking her hand. “Its gonna be okay now,” I don’t know if that’s a lie or not but it’s the best I can do at the moment.

Rogue merely nods and squeezes our hands before Jean starts instructing on the delivery of the baby.

I don’t know how long it was, I wasn’t watching the clock but I do know my hands are feeling like they’ve been crushed. I glance at Jean who smiles as she wraps the little baby up in the blue cotton blanket that she’d set him on.

“It’s a boy,” Jean whispers looking at Rogue for a moment before passing the baby to Jubilee and looking at me with this look in her eyes. I can’t explain it; I’ve never seen anything like it before. Sorta like fear mixed with confusion, mixed with something I can’t name. “Rogue..” the soft voice held a current of steal and I glance at Rogue who’s laying there with her eyes closed.

“ROGUE!” Jean’s voice is sharp and I back away from the bed even as Jean moves forward the doctor in her taking over.

“Should we get Hank?” I ask as Jubilee cradles the little baby.

“Yes,” Jean snaps at my question, her hands checking for vitals as we hurry from the room, taking the baby with us.

Racing down the stairs I head for Hank’s favorite haunt, the library fear clutching at my throat. Racing in I sorta gasp out that Jean wants to see him before heading back up the stairs stopping just outside of the bedroom, closing the door behind Hank and sinking to the floor. I can hear Jubilee down the hall taking to the baby, rocking him and I want to cry.

The next thing I know I can hear Rogue screaming bloody murder and I’m jumping to my feet. Shit I must have dozed off - sorry ‘bout that. I rarely swear its not good manners. Whirling I phase through the door and freeze.

Rogue’s screaming at the top of her lungs, Hank’s trying to get her to calm down and Jean’s nursing a bloody nose. With a shake of my head I wonder what happened even as I inch forward, “You okay Dr. Grey?” I ask softly.

“Yes, its okay,” Jean replies softly and I see the look in her eyes. It’s the same look that Scott used to have before Dr. Grey came back. “Where’s Jubilee?”

“In our room, she’s got the baby there.”

“NO! You’re lying!” Rogue’s struggling against Hank until suddenly she stops and her breath explodes on a sob. Let me tell you the most heart wrenching sound in this world is the sound of someone’s misery being realized.

Rocking back and forth on the bed, Rogue sobs like there’s no tomorrow her body’s exhausted but her mind is clear, and I wonder if maybe Logan hasn’t faded completely. “Rogue,” I call uneasily.

“No, no..no..no..” Rogue repeats her breath coming in ragged, hiccups through her sobs. “Please no.”

“What happened?” I ask Jean softly.

“She came to and asked about the baby. I told her that her son was gone, she took it badly,” Jean replied even as a soft knock on the door had her turning around to answer it.

I could hear muted whispers, hushed talks but didn’t pay attention as Jean closed the door again. Instead I stood there and stared at Rogue who looked totally devastated. “Rogue, girlfriend its okay.”

“No it isn’t,” Rogue gasps at me, wrapping herself in her bed sheets, ignoring the soiled spots, instead she merely rocks herself crying until it breaks my heart. “He’s gone.”

“Jubilee’s got..” I start only to have Jean shake her head.

“I don’t think she’s thinking of her son,” Jean whispered. “She’s thinking of Logan.”


Laying there sobbing Rogue pulls the pillows closer, clinging to them and it breaks my heart. I touch her shoulder gently, hoping she’ll realize she isn’t alone only to have her jerk away from me and glare at the three of us.

“GET OUT! Just get out! I hate you, all of you! You don’t understand, none of you do! GET THE FUCK OUT!!!” the anger in her words is enough to send shivers down my spine and I follow Hank’s prompts out the door the sound of her sobs in my ears.

Sinking to the floor in stunned silence I glance at Jean who smiles sadly, “Why now? It’s been months..”

“I think Logan’s beginning to fade..” Jean said even as the sound of something breaking against the wall echoes into the hall. “She’s losing him all over again.”

“Dr. Grey?” Jubilee is standing there with Rogue’s son, the tiny life starting to fuss in her arms, hunger beginning to gnaw at his little belly. The tiny squeaks and whimpers from him drawing a pained smile from Jean who takes him carefully.

“I think it would be best if you all left her alone right now,” Jean says slipping into the bedroom and closing the door. A couple minutes later she slips back out, leaving the lights on and closes the door. I can still hear Rogue’s sobs but I know they’re healing ones.

I wonder about her now, wonder how she’s going to be but I hope and pray that this time she’ll heal!

Jubilee:

Still ain’t seen hide nor hair of Rogue not since she had the little boy two days ago. I can hear her moving around in the room, hear him crying and the soft soothing sound of her singing but that’s it.

I know Kitty feels bad but I think Rogue is healing; she needs time to deal with the truth, time to deal with her heartbreak.

A sharp elbow in the ribs has me glancing up at the open doorway of the cafeteria to see someone I truly care about. Rogue stands there looking only slightly less disgruntled than she was when she had the baby but at least she’s out and about her baby wrapped lovingly in her arms. Moving through the hushed crowd she settles in her customary chair, ignoring the looks, the whispers and holds her son carefully.

Silently she eats the food placed before her then she rises and walks off, growling low at Dr. Grey and I grin before looking at Kitty and we both share a laugh! Logan hasn’t faded, not one little bit because Rogue just did a perfect imitation of the man and it’s a good sign! Maybe she has healed, maybe the girl we know and love is coming back to us!