Scott watched the woman on the television speaking passionately about how Mutants were still humans and felt perhaps for the first time that the Professor was right, Humans and Mutants could live peacefully and he smiled. The woman almost stopped speaking and her eyes dropped. Suddenly her words became much more emotional, much more personal, “I must admit this in front of everyone here. I am a coward. My daughter – my only daughter, who I love more than the earth was – is - a mutant. I stood by and watched as her father, my husband, my ex,” she gave a wry smile, “husband put a gun to her head and told her to leave or he would kill her because of something she could not control,” the tears were flowing freely down the woman's face but she made no attempt to wipe them away, “I did nothing. She – she could be dead or worse because I was a coward that day. I was so scared, of him, of her. I realise that she must have been a thousand times more scared but I did nothing. And so I am using this chance to try and begin to make things right. Marie, if you're out there, if you can find it in your heart to give this foolish old woman a second chance. I know you can never forgive me and I don't deserve to be forgiven but I just want to try.”

Scott felt an absolute stillness behind him and turned to see Rogue standing, still staring at the blank screen, every muscle in her body tense. Her eyes were unseeing, lost in some other, past life that she thought was lost to her. “Rogue?” Her head snapped to him and she blinked, her muscles slowly relaxing, gazing at him. She nodded curtly, recognising his unspoken question. Scott sighed and, although it went against all his instincts, went against all his morals he realised that some things needed to be kept a secret. He pulled out the keys for the motorbike he had just finished repairing after Logan's 'borrowing' and tossed them to Rogue. He gave her an encouraging nod and a resigned “Just look after it better than Logan did will you?” he wasn't hopeful though, Rogue had, after all, learnt how to drive from Logan's memories.

*

An eight year old Marie perched on the end of her bed and smiled winningly at her father. He sighed and gave in, “What is it Sweetheart?” he asked, sitting down beside her.

“Do you love me Daddy?” Marie said, snuggling into her father.

“Of course,” he replied, an indulgent grin on his face.

“Even if I was naughty?”

He chuckled and ruffled her short hair, “Now, if you were naughty I'd be angry,” he pulled a comical 'angry' face to the delight of Marie, “I might be very, very angry but I would still love you.”

“Even if I was a Mutant?” Marie wasn't quite sure what a Mutant was but she knew they were something bad.

“Yes Marie,” he replied, pulling his little girl closer to him, the slight hesitation in his voice going unnoticed by his trusting daughter, “I love you no matter what and that's never going to change.”

*

I love you no matter what and that's never going to change. I love you no matter what and that's never going to change. I love you no matter what and that's never going to change. I love you no matter what and that's never going to change.

The memory of the voice rang tauntingly in her ears reminding her of all that she had lost. I've found a new family. People who love me and accept me for what I am she reminded herself firmly I just need … closure.

Unconsciously she made the bike go even faster as she allowed the 'Logan' part of her mind take over. She had been having lessons with the Professor in an attempt to find a way to control her skin, although she didn't have any more control than when she started she had found she could 'access' the abilities and memories in her head with increasing ease, meaning she could now drive if she concentrated on Logan, and her fighting improved dramatically when she allowed Logan's instincts to guide her. She could understand complicated physics if she concentrated on Magneto. She understood recent historical events much better now she had Magneto's memories, most notably the Second World War. She could now even produce 'bone claws' and was able to move and bend small metal objects with her mind. She healed much faster and never got ill thanks to Logan's healing abilities.

All too soon her journey was over. Damn it she thought I'm not ready, I'm not … but then the door opened and there stood her mother with tired eyes and her mouth half open to send away whoever disturbed her. There was silence for a long time. “You – you came,” her voice disbelieving, her mouth beginning to curve upwards into a hesitant smile. Rogue shrugged.

“How could I not? I needed - I wanted – I. Fuck it,” she said, vaguely noting that her mother didn't even flinch at the profanity. Things had changed, “Fuck it. Why?”

“I was scared. I didn't know what was going on, or how to deal with it. Then Owen offered this – this awful solution. I refused at first, whatever had happened you were still our daughter and we would love you no matter what. I told him so. Then he got out it his gun, started waving it around saying you were the devil in disguise and we had to get rid of you. I – I tried to stand up to him but he turned the gun on me, scared me enough to get me to stay and then went off in search of you. You were gone before I had the guts to move. I'm so sorry.” They stared at each other, neither quite sure what to say next. “Marie-”

“My name's Rogue,”

“Rogue then,” she nodded sadly, “it suits you. In a good way.” she sighed, “Are you – I mean, have you got a place to stay? You're always welcome in my home.”

“I've got a place to stay. The best place. It's this school for Mutants, the Professor helps us learn to control our – our gifts.” Rogue still struggled on the word 'gift' when describing her mutation, but since she was steadily learning to control her skin and she could almost envisage a future in which she could touch she was finding a lot easier to appreciate the advantages of her skin.

“I've never heard of a school for Mutants, if I had I could've ...”

“There's a reason you haven't heard of us,” replied Rogue with a sad smile, “there's too many people who want to kill us, or experiment on us. It's better off nobody knows where we are, or that we even exist.”

The conversation remained stilted and slightly forced. Both women were only too aware that whatever relationship they had could never be recovered, too much had happened to both of them. Especially Rogue, Priscilla noted, taking in her daughter's all too experienced eyes, her wary posture, as if expecting to be attacked and her closed voice which made it clear, without words, that although Rogue had come to see her, had wished to see her, her little Marie would never be coming back. Rogue didn't trust her mother enough to show her vulnerable side, didn't trust her enough to tell her about the 'accident' that left her with two white streaks in her hair. Priscilla, in all honestly, couldn't blame her and was surprised to be even given this second chance by her daughter.

*

Rogue left her mother's with the strange feeling of simultaneously having a weight lifted from her shoulders and getting her head even more messed up at the same time only to find Logan standing by the bike, the jet which had carried him here silently floating away. “Scott told me,” he said simply, “thought you could use the company on the ride back.”

“Yeah,” she replied, “that would be nice.”

*

Rogue was, of course, on the back of the bike. It was the unspoken rule that if both Logan and Rogue were on the bike then Logan was driving. At times like these Rogue liked that rule; when she was tired sometimes her mind seemed to remember that she couldn't actually drive and it was only the Logan in her head that knew how to drive and the instinctive knowledge of how to drive disappeared. It usually only disappeared for a few seconds but damn those few seconds were scary, especially since she liked to drive fast. At other times she wished she could drive and feel Logan behind her, his arms wrapped round her – she stopped the thought. Again.

It was also at these times that Rogue was grateful of Logan's simplicity. If it had been Jean or Storm, or anyone else they would have overwhelmed her with sympathy and hugs and encouraging her speak about her feelings until she went mad and screamed at them to go away. Then, the bastards, they would understand and talk in hushed voices around her, give her long sympathetic gazes which said 'I'm here if you want to talk'. If there was one thing she couldn't stand it was being pitied. It was stupid, she knew, they did it because they cared and wanted to help but for some unknown reason it drove her up the wall.

Of course, for all Logan's simplicity, for the strange but wonderful way they seemed to fit together like lost puzzle pieces, the way they seemed to epitomise the saying 'opposites attract' there was the simple fact that their relationship was as complicated as they come. It had really started when Wolverine, the eternal loner, had promised a frightened little girl that he would look after her. It had got even more confusing when, after Logan had damn near sacrificed his life to save her, said frightened little girl developed an inevitable crush on her big bad hero. Big bad hero went off in search of his big bad past leaving the frightened little girl to grow up and when Logan came back she wasn't frightened or a girl any longer. Then it got really confusing.

Logan had gotten a 'wanting what you can't have' thing for Jean so Logan had flirted. Jean had flirted back and found out she really liked it which kind of fucked her up because last time she checked she was definitely in love with Scott. So they flirted. Scott found out then things got nasty. Jean and Scott had a screaming match which the whole mansion heard in which Jean had screamed “Maybe sometimes I like the bad guys.” Then they had make up sex which the whole mansion heard. Some of the little kids still had nightmares. Logan and Jean's crush cooled off and Scott went about proving he could be the 'bad guy' whenever Jean wanted it. He was surprisingly good at it. Logan became known as 'Wolverine: Relationship Counsellor' until he almost gutted Bobby. The near gutting incident had everything to do with the fact that the boy was as annoying as hell and nothing to do with the fact he had been flirting with Rogue. Of course.

Logan and Rogue grew even closer. Logan still called her 'kid' but with a look in his eyes that showed he saw her anything but. Rogue had grinned when she saw everyone nodding wisely as she saw them thinking How nice of Logan to look after poor little lost Rogue she grinned even more when they realised that Logan definitely did not have brotherly or fatherly feelings for her.

Logan and Rogue would spend hours talking into the night about everything and nothing. Rogue developed a habit of giving Logan the briefest of kisses on his skin, pulling away and disappearing before her mutation could take effect or Logan could retaliate. They slowly drove each other insane and enjoyed every minute of it. Scott was, unsurprisingly, disapproving. Jean was worried that Logan would move on from Rogue after the fun left the flirtation, like it had for her, which would leave Rogue crushed until she realised that Logan's feelings ran too deep for him than they ever did for her, and she was happy for them. Storm accepted the unusual couple without question and the Professor, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye had noted Rogues drastic improvement in their sessions and had asked whether Rogue had found a new motivation to control her skin. Rogue hadn't been able to look the Professor in the eye for weeks.

As for Rogue and Logan themselves they continued to dance around each other with half touches and almost kisses with the ever present promise of things to come.

Which all led back to her current position, Rogue mused. On the back of the bike with Logan, the only person who could make her feel completely content and at ease. The only person who could completely and immediately understand her confused feelings about her parents and her need for him to just be there.

Logan himself, driving that bike back to the Institute with Rogue sat behind him, her arms around his waist (and stop that thought right there) was content. Well fuck me sideways he thought I think I've found home.