Prologue

I took the cure, big deal. I could live with that. I could live with touching people, without the fear of the hurting them. I could deal with the decent nights of sleep, with the quietness of my mind. No more whispering, no more screaming, raging people inside my head trying to drown me out. No more being scared of the damage that I could do. But the guilt was slowly killing me.

If I hadn’t been so selfish, so desperate…I could have saved her. Jean Grey, the woman Logan so reverently loved. I could have saved them both; there wasn’t so much left of Logan anyways after she was gone.

And then that big tidal wave, the one everyone uselessly tries to outrun, came crashing down my way, destroying everything in its path, as if the Phoenix hadn’t done much damage herself. Few days after trying to get back on track and adjusting to my new life, national news broadcast shattered everything that was left of Marie. I can still hear those words ringing in my ears after all this time. The ‘cure’ wasn’t permanent. Hell, it wasn’t even a cure just a fucking suppressant that the government was testing out on willing guinea pigs. On desperate mutants like me.

After that I learned there are no such things as dreams. That hope and faith are for scared people. That Charles Xavier was naïve to believe that we could all co-exist peacefully. And for the first time since the Statue of Liberty incident I understood Magneto.

If I hadn’t been so broken and reeling from all the pain I wouldn't have thought about leaving, but I was broken and I was angry and frustrated and upset at it all.

I wanted the world to burn, to rot. To die at my mercy, to feel as miserable as I did. Scary huh? So where did that southern bell go? I’ll tell ya where, she went straight to hell. Been rotting there for a while now, too. She went without kicking or screaming; didn’t even bother putting up a fight. Rogue? Let’s just say I went thoroughly but not before taking a couple of the others with me. Vengeful little thing, aren’t I?

So where was my fearless and self-appointed protector in all this?

Logan? He wasn’t talking. Not to me, not to anyone else. He was still mourning Jean in his own way. He’d growl, he’d grunt, and snarl but he never said a damn word. I think I lost all hope and faith after that. Didn’t believe in anything anyone ever said. If Logan’s promise wasn’t worth jack, then one else’s word meant anything.

A couple of days before I made up my mind to leave Bobby dumped me. I won’t lie to ya, it hurt like a bitch, but I’d seen it coming. He still hadn’t touched me even after I’d taken the cure, even after I was safe to touch. I wasn’t stupid though, I started following him around the mansion and I caught him making out with Kitty, his hand sliding up her thigh, up her skirt.

I wasn’t expecting that. She was my friend. I trusted her, I would have given my life for her and she betrayed me for a good fuck. Bitch didn’t even have time to phase through anything before she knew what hit her. When I was through with her she looked like a fucking rainbow that had just been introduced to a new set of colors.

Next thing I knew, I was gasping for air, I’d been drowning for a long time. Choking on my own emotions, on my frustration. I needed to find a way out, I needed to be free. No more pain, no more fear, no more Marie.

So one day I removed Logan’s dog tags from around my neck and stuffed them into a blank envelope. When I finally gathered my courage, when I successfully convinced myself that I needed to leave I shoved the envelope under his door on my way out.

Without as much as looking over my shoulder I walked out of the protection of the mansion and swore never to set foot there for as long as I lived. God knew I had no intention of ever being found.

13 Months Later…

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters
3:04 a.m.

It’s late. I know.
But I could hardly come back like nothing happened. I can’t face them after what I’ve done. I selfishly deserted them when they needed me the most, when I could have proven useful to save Jean Grey.

Jean Grey.

I still can’t say her name out loud, let alone think it. When I do, something inside of me breaks, even when I just think of her. It must be the Logan in my head mourning the loss of the woman he loved. I absolutely don’t blame him, how can I? What right do I have? It’s not like I stuck around.

Oh God. Logan. His name brings that familiar jolt of pain to my heart. Is he mad? Will he talk to me? Will he forgive me? I’m scared. Not of Logan, of course not. I’m scared he won’t want me; I’m scared he’s forgotten about me.

I turn to look behind me. I can still change my mind about coming back. I can still leave, again. No one has seen me yet. Right? I can see the red Mini Cooper parked outside the gate from where I stand. I didn’t bring much, just the same military duffle bag that I took with me when I left over a year ago. That brings a sudden peace of mind that I know I don’t deserve. A feeling I shouldn’t welcome and yet I still do.

An unsympathetic gust of wind pushes the white streaks around my face forcing me to look back at the mansion. I cross my arms under my breasts and hold the same green cloak tightly against me to keep warm.

Someone shifts uneasily in their sleep; the bed springs creak with the weight as they continue to move trying to push the nightmare away. It’s not Logan; of that much I’m sure. The Logan in my head seems to agree.

Magneto surfaces in my mind, his voice tired and dull, "surely that boy, Piotr, would make a nice collection to my little army," he suggests. I shake my head, pushing him back behind my mental barriers.

“Not if Ah can help it,” I whisper.

The wind continues to whirl violently around me and I look up at the far window. Someone’s watching me. For a moment all I can see is a flicker of white, it flashes away from the window for a long time. After a brief moment a slender figure is moving silently through the main door. Suddenly it’s become darker. It’s Storm, I finally realize. Her eyes become brown again. She smiles and stops several feet away from me.

“Rogue?” Her voice rings out with familiarity and comfort, with warmth and care. I don’t let that fool me. I know she’s the head of the school now, I know that if she believes I’m a threat to the students she will not hesitate to take me out.

"Let her try," another voice inside of my head whispers.

“Is that really you, child,” she asks. A brief emotion crosses her warm features that I nearly miss it, but she continues to smile. Her hands are tucked into the coats’ pockets. She’s cold. I try to smile.

“One an’ only ‘Ro,” I answer somberly. I’m tired. I’ve been driving all day to get as fast as I can back to the mansion. Why? I still don’t know. Why after all this time? Really, I have no idea.

“I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing standing outside the school after all this time,” I lift a brow.

“Mind reader,” she asks as her smile continues to spread.

“Not a chance, I’m already insane as it is. Just checking up on you X-Geeks. I see the school still stands,” I point behind her. "You must be doing one hell of a job.” She turns to look behind her and then turns her attention back to me.

“Checking up, huh? No plans to stay? You’re room’s still available in case you want to come back. We’ve missed you so much.” She takes the remaining steps and hugs me. For a moment I’m at a loss for words. Instead of talking I cherish the moment and return the hug. She reminds me of my mother. I quickly push the thought away.

She’s hoping I can stay. It’s written all over her warm features. I try to smile. I haven’t been able to do that since I left. I’ve been so miserable all this time.

“I…” I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I know she’s watching me, closely, still not trusting. Somehow that makes me feel better, this confirms my suspicions that they know about my stay with the Brotherhood. She does right by not trusting me.

“I’m so proud of you,” I hear myself whisper as I tighten my grip on her hands for a brief moment. I smile. “I can’t…You have no idea what it means to people like me…,” I pause for another moment. This wasn’t supposed to be so difficult. She knew it was guilt that was giving her a hard time. “…to mutants with a mutation as difficult as mine…that there’s still a place on earth where no one will shun us out.”

She leans in to hug me again, tightly. There’s a tear falling down one of my cheeks but before she catches sight of it I wipe it away with the back of my gloved hand and hug her back again. God bless her. I wonder if she has an idea how much I’ve missed this place. I look up at the sky. I hope to God that Jean and the Professor could see me. I wish I could see them.

“It’s because of runaways like you that I’ve kept going. Not everyone grows up with loving or understanding parents, Dear.” She keeps talking but I’ve stopped listening. She used an endearment with me. It’s been such a long time since someone’s said something do meaningful to me. For a moment all I can do is revel in that moment. And then I ask myself why I’ve waited so long to come back. Oh yes, the guilt.

“Rogue?” She shakes me for moment, hoping to bring me back from wherever I’ve gone. I turn my attention back to her.

“Why don’t you stay…Even if it’s just for the rest of the day? I’m sure the others would like to see you.”

“Doesn’t anyone hate me? Don’t you blame me for Jean’s death,” I hear myself ask in troubled voice, one I can hardly recognize as my own. There’s no trace of that Southern drawl.

“No, no. Of course not, dear. We’ve been so worried all this time. We had no way to find you. Scott and the Professor tried it all even using Cerebro but we couldn’t place you. Logan was so desperate. We thought the worst might have happened…” she stops then turns to look back the mansion.

“Wait what,” I asked confused. “Did you say Scott and the Professor?”

“They came back to us Rogue. And Logan, he’s—“He’s still here,” I hear myself ask in a low voice, fearing he’d hear me.

“Yes, he’s become part of the team now. He’s even one of the professors.” She still hasn’t answered my question but she’s grinning. Logan must be having trouble adjusting to just one place.

“Why was Logan so desperate,” I asked distracted.

“Because of you, of course. He made a promise, didn’t he,” she lifts a brow. “…that he’d always be there for you. All this time he’s thought he let you down. He said he shouldn’t have let you go. He’s still trying to find you.”

All Marie could do was stare at Ororo. Had she heard right? Logan had looked for her? Logan cared? Oh God, why didn’t she come back sooner? She turned her eyes to the mansion.

There he was. Looking like a God as he stood behind the window, the lights on. She could hardly help but remember the words to the song she’s been hearing on her way back to the mansion.

I’m on the corner, waiting for the light to come on
That’s when I know that you’re alone
It’s cold in the desert, water never sees the ground
Special unspoken without sound

His chest is bare, wearing nothing but those damn skin-tight jeans of his. He was looking down at them smoking a cigar. Of course he would see them, he could hear them. Although he didn’t look so happy, not like I’d expected anything. So, no surprise there.

“Will you stay, then,” Ororo asked once more. Marie turned to look at Logan one more time before she answered. He’d moved away from the window.

“Alright.”

“Welcome home, dear,” Storm says lastly before she tugs on the young girl’s hand to lead her back inside, into the safety of the mansion.

4:00 a.m.

‘Ro and I had just stepped into the foyer, headed on our way upstairs towards my room when the Professor’s calm voice rang inside my mind, startling me.

Will you meet me in my office? I’m on my way there now.

“Jesus Christ,” I jumped back a bit, turning to look at Ororo. She had an amused look about her. “That’s gonna take a while getting’ used to,” I add as I place a hand on my heart as if to settle it.

Ororo led me down the hall and to the Professor’s office. From behind the door I could hear the shuffling of feet and the sound of a chair creaking under the man’s weight.

Come in, he rings in my head again.

I place my hand on the doorknob and push the door wide open, not sure what to expect. I noticed the lights aren’t on and that the only light in the room is seeping through thin, gold curtains covering the large windows. For a moment the image reminds me of Christmas morning.

At the sight of me, hesitant to enter his office, the Professor rises from his chair and comes over to greet me in a gentle bug. Despite it all, he still looks like the same good man I met more than three years ago, except this time he’s walking.

“Oh mah Gawd,” I don’t hide the surprise.

“It’s alright, Rogue. None of the other students have gotten used to see me walking yet,” he says as he pulls away to get a better look at me. He smiles.

“But please, take a seat. There’s much to discuss. I imagine you have questions,” he offers with a wave of his hand towards me as I move forward and take a seat in front of him. He does the same. Behind us Ororo silently closes the door.

“Ah…Ah do, Professor. Ah’m just confused. But it’s so good to know that y’er back. The school wasn’t the same without you. How…how’s Mr. Summers,” I ask quietly.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself,” he motions towards the door just at the same time as a sleepy and groggy Scott let’s himself in. Leave it to the Professor to conduct two conversations at the same time. The tall, slender but muscular man is wearing a white t-shirt, slippers, and dark pajama pants. The lighting of the room reflects on his ruby quartz glasses, casting a reddish glow in the room. Slowly as he continues to take the remaining steps to stand behind the empty chair, I jump up and into his arms.

“Mr. Summers,” I hear myself say, breathlessly.

“Rogue,” he asks. The Professor had woken him up just for me. I feel his strong arms go around my waist, lifting me up a few inches off the floor and then he sets me down.

“Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. You had us all worried,” he says sounding like the man I know; fearless leader Cyclops. In the background I can hear the Professor chuckle and it startles me. I’ve never heard him do that. I turn to look at him and he flashes me a reassuring smile.

I try to make you see my side
Always try to stay in line
But your eyes see right through me
That’s all they do

“Rogue,” the Professor calls my attention and I turn to look at him, dazed, as if I’d been off my feet for a long time, like I’m just learning how to walk again.

“Sorry,” I apologize. “Ah’ve been doin’ that fer a while now,” I turn to look back at Scott. Scott moves to take the empty seat next to me and I know he wants to know everything too.

“So where you been? Logan’s been going nuts looking for you,” Scott says as he shares a look with the Professor. “Does he know you’re here?”

“Ah was travelin’. Doin some work fer’ Mystique,” I say as I look away from Scott. “Nothin’ too bad, just hackin’ the government an’ stuff,” I continue, flinching every time they mention Logan’s name.

“Damn it, Rogue,” Scott cusses and rises from his chair to pace around the room. The Professor hasn’t stopped looking at me and I can feel him trying to get into my mind, I shake my head.

Not now, Professor. Ah promise y’all have unlimited access any time ya want…just not here with Scooter, I tell him in my head. As a response he nods his head and turns to look at Scott.

“I thought we taught you better than to flip on us,” he mumbles as he runs his hands through his hair making it stand at awkward angles.

“It’s not like that, Mr. Summers. Ah just did work fer ‘em, that’s all. Nothin’ illegal. Ah backed-up every file I unencrypted for ‘em, Ah’ll show ya. Mah loyalty is to the X-Men. But Ah perfectly understand if y’all don’t trust meh,” I quickly tell them.

“So why’d you leave,” Scott asks as he comes to stand beside me, looking down at me while I’m sitting. I don’t like that, so I rise from my chair and meet his glasses as I answer.

“Ah needed some time away from all the pain you’re deaths left and ‘cause the cure failed and Ah needed to deal with my last hope being shattered. Ah wasn’t no good to no one moppin’ ‘round the mansion,” I responded quietly.

“So what happened with Kitty,” he asked. I turned an apologetic smile to the Professor before I answered, then I turned to look back at Scott. “Heard you introduced her to all shades of black.”

“Ah know there’s no excuse fer mah behavior but Ah lost it.”

“Rogue,” the Professor shakes his head disapprovingly. “Violence is never the answer.”

I shake my head too, hopping I could push the memory away but I fail, so I tell them. “It hit home, alright. Ah caught Bobby cheatin’ on meh with Kitty. Ah swear Ah understand now but…but it hurt. Ah know he loved me but…but he was touchin’ her,” I pointed out. “He knew Ah was safe to touch an’ he still wanted her,” I said in a choked voice, sounding like a petulant and reprimanded child but they wanted to know.

“Is that why you took the cure,” asked Scott in a softer voice. “Is that why you left? Because he didn’t want you?” I turned to look at the Professor with tears in my eyes refusing to let them fall. Fortunately the Professor understood and I didn’t have to answer that. I’m sure the Professor knows there more to my pain, to my good front. I wonder if he can see the guilt?

“Why don’t you go get settled in, Rogue? I’m sure later on today we can continue this,” he says as he rises from his desk.

“Of course, Professor,” Scott and I reply.

“Scott,” the Professor asks. “Will you take her to the west wing? I’m afraid your old room is currently being occupied by a new student so you’re new room will be in the same wing as the rest of the staff. I urge you to seek the child out, Rogue. I’m sure the both of you will have very much in common.” With that being his last word, he disappeared behind another door.

4: 39 a.m.

Storm lied.

Yeah the White Witch lied about my room still being unoccupied. There was a new student staying there. Scott says it’s a cute little eight year old who can mind read like Jean and the Professor through touch. He said I was gonna like the little booger, and I believe him. Said his name’s Adam.
So now, instead of staying in the student wing, I have my own room in the Professor wing. The bedroom is much bigger, the closet’s larger, there’s more space and I have my own bathroom. No more sharing with Kitty and Jubilee.

Thank Gawd, I say to myself.

All that damn giggling in the middle of the night when I was trying to study or all the gossiping about the boys was finally going to end. Not that I’d shared a room with anyone while I was away. I was too busy trying to find a medication to get me to sleep, but nothing worked. I was gonna have to talk to Hank about that as soon as I saw him.

So Scott’s room is right across the hall from me and my bedroom is right next door to Logan’s. Some funny shit from Fate there, if you ask me. Not that I’ll be complaining.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” I mumble under my breath as I set my duffle bag on the bed. Storm was kind enough to drive my car inside and into the garage and to retrieve my bag from the trunk while I spoke with Scott and the Professor.

But something was bothering me.

Logan still hadn’t come looking for me. I know he was still wake. He’d probably even been listening to my conversation with Scott and the Professor, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. Logan has not tact. He’s a straightforward as they come and he expects the same courtesy, as if.

So I don’t let it bother me, instead I remove my gloves and close the door before I begin unpacking. I know he’ll come looking for me when he’s ready. Maybe after he’s forgiven me, I tell myself.

7:00 a.m.

I’ll begin to let you go
When the sunlight melts the snow
Every night I drive away from you
I see the mountains I have yet to move

And you there
You don’t care
I wonder if you

Wanted me like I wanted you
It’s a lonely truth
That I can’t change you
And you sure can’t change me

It’s hard as hell tonight to sleep
To close my eyes would be admitting my defeat—

I don’t finish listening to the song. Someone’s impatiently knocking on my door, so I twist my body around from the chair where I’d been facing the grand window and remove my earphone, quickly wrapping them around my IPod before I let them in.

“Come in,” I tell them, as I quickly rise from my chair, making sure I’m decent and completely covered. One quick look down at myself eases my mind and let me focus on the visitor, my IPod firmly held in my bare hands. The door creaks and someone lets themselves in, but I don’t time anymore to retrieve my gloves from the bed.

Damn it, the Logan in my head reprimands me.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” I mumble under my breath as I cast my bed a long glance but then something catches my attention. Whoever is outside that door is taking too long to come in, like they can’t decide whether I’m still deadly, dangerous, and poisonous and that just fucking pisses me off.

“Some things just don’t fuckin’ change,” I tell myself as much as a second thought I run towards my bed, toss my IPod and gather my gloves, quickly slipping them on as I rush to the door and pull it open. There standing behind my door is my fearless and self-appointed protector.

“Logan?”

Logan is casually leaning against the threshold, his arms crossed under his chest so tightly I can see the muscle lines beneath his red flannel shirt. He continues to watch me, assessing me. Like he’s just daring me to run again.

No fuckin’ way, bub. You chased me outta here once. You don’t have that power over meh ‘nymore, I say to myself. The Logan in my head growls at my visitor and the Erik in my head eyes the man as deeply as he does me. Oh fuck.

Logan continues to look at me; like he’s making sure I’m unharmed. He wants to know if anything’s changed but he won’t ask. Slowly I take a couple of steps back and push the door wide open, allowing him inside. I’m more than sure that he wants to talk, whatever that means.

“What brings you to darken my door,” I ask casually. Too casually he decides not to answer, instead he launches into his assessment of me.

“Lost some weight there, kid. Eating enough?” There’s concern in his voice, it surprises me. I surely wasn’t expecting that.

“Been runnin’ and trainin’,” I answer him.

“What about the dark circles under your eyes? You been training them too,” he mocks me lift a brow.

I shake my head and look away. I don’t like where this conversation is going but I can’t exactly avoid the questions. He’s gonna get them out of me one way or anything.

“Can’t sleep,” I mumble that he has to take another step to hear me. At his proximity I quickly look up and take a step back, crossing my arms over my chest, hopping he’d take the hint. I don’t want to talk.

“You still have me up there,” he presses.

“Yeah but they ain’t yer nightmares. All mine,” I tell him as steadily as I can.

“Where you been all this fucking time,” he asks as calmly as he can. The Wolverine doesn’t do calmly. It comes out with a small growl.

I’ve been travelling but I don’t know where
I’ve been missing you, but you just don’t care
And I’ve been wandering, I’ve seen Greece and Rome
Lost in the wilderness, so far from home

I’ve been to Africa, looking for my soul
And I feel like an actor looking for a role
I’ve been to Arabia, I’ve seen a million stars
Been sipping champagne on the boulevard

I’m so sick and tired
Trying to turn the tide
So I’ll say my goodbye
Laugh, laugh
I nearly died

I’ve been down to India, but it froze my bones
I’m living for the city, but I’m all alone
I’ve been traveling, but I don’t know where
I’ve been wandering, but I just don’t care

I hate to be denied
How you hurt my pride
I feel pushed aside
But laugh, laugh
I nearly died

Been travelling far and wide
Wondering who’s going to be my guide
Living in a fantasy but it’s way too far
But this kind of loneliness if way too hard
I’ve been wandering, feeling all alone
I lost my direction and I lost my home

With a deep sigh, I answer. “New York, Canada, Alaska…” I say vaguely.

“Doing?” He continues to press. Logan likes straight answers, no beating around the fucking bush type of shit, he likes to say. His exact words, not mine.

“Same things you do when you leave,” I wave off, then I turn to look at him. He flinched for a moment and I caught that.

“Cage fighting? Searching for your past? Fucking—I quickly hold up a finger cutting him off.

I know what he’s going to say, that why I cut him off. Last thing I need is him calling me a whore. I’m anything but. I know better than that but I’ve done shit I’m not exactly proud off, so instead I let it shrug it off with a simple rise and fall of my shoulders.

“Makin’ some money, tryin’ to get used to mah skin again, travelin’... Always wanted to do stuff of that sort,” I tell him lazily as I continue with unpacking my bag. I’d left my bad sitting on the bed forgotten when I started listen to music a while ago.

When she turned around to face him again she noticed Logan had moved away from the entrance and had closed the door. He was inches away from her now. He was so close that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Gawd his body was so close to her’s now. She bravely lifted her gaze and met his tantalizing eyes.

“You’re holding out on me, Kid,” he says accusingly, but I won’t let him make me feel guilty about being honest with him.
“Ah’m not lyin’ t’ya if that’s what you’re implyin’...” I whisper. “But I don’t have to elaborate on what Ah did or didn’t do while Ah was away,” I say bitterly. “It’s not like Ah ever asked you what you did every fuckin’ time you left.”

“Is that what this is about? Are you trying to get back at me for every time I left? Do you have any idea how long I’ve looked for you, kid? I’ve been worried all this fucking time thinking the worst and then you waltz in here like nothing ever fucking happened. What the hells’ wrong with ya?”

I laugh humorlessly and toss the shirt the in my hand after balling it up into a corner of the room. That son-of-a-bitch! What right did he have to come in here seeking answers? Just because she had a small crush on him didn’t give him the right to dictate how she lived her life. He had no right, not when he ran away whenever he got the fucking chance, legitimate reasons or not.

Whatever they were he wasn’t gonna find them here; I’d make sure of that.

“In case you haven’t noticed, bub the world does not fuckin’ revolve around you,” I pointed a gloved finger at him, accusingly. “Ah left ‘cause mah world was crumblin’ ‘round meh. Ah was hurtin’ too. Yes mah mutation is the fuckin’ ultimate curse, but Ah’m tryin’ to adjust. Ah’m sorry Ah wasn’t here at your motherfuckin’ disposal when Jean died. Ah’m sorry Ah didn’t fuckin’ absorb her power so you could save her. And Ah’m most fucking sorry for comin’ back at your inconvenience. Maybe Ah should have called first,” I walked past him, throwing the door wide open, urging him to leave.

In the brightest hour of my darkest day
I realized what is wrong with me
Can’t get over you, can’t get through to you
It’s been helter-skelter romance from the start
Take these memories that Haunting me
Of a paper man cut into shreds by his own pair of scissors
He’ll never forgive her…he’ll never forgive her

Before I had the chance to take back what I’d said, he shut the door, locked it, and pushed me onto the bed while effectively pinning my arms above my head. I tried to move but he was straddling my knees to keep me from kicking him off, or bringing my knee to his groin. I have that nasty little habit.

Logan is staring hard at me, like he’s can’t believe I’m doing this now, but I don’t care. This was coming sooner or later, whether he could tell it was coming or not, because let’s be honest, that’s what’s bothering him, he couldn’t tell this was coming.

“Get off meh,” I growl quietly, enough for my chest to rumble under his massive frame. I won’t look away from his scrutinizing eyes, I know he’s trying to figure out what the hell is going on with me but I won’t give him that, I’m too stubborn.

“Marie,” he growls. “Kid, look at me.” I shake my head furiously and continue to clench my eyes shut but he won’t give up.

“I know the world doesn’t fucking revolve around me,” he pants, like he’s been running a marathon and I know he’s struggling with the Wolverine and his emotions. “And I sure as hell don’t expect you to be there every time I think I need you ,” he continues gently. I open my eyes and notice the anger quickly disappearing and a brief emotion crosses his face but I’m too distracted to catch what it is.

His words brought on a whole new pain to my heart. Need me? Logan had needed me and I wasn’t there? I was somewhere else being selfish, miserable, and bring about the doom of the world and he needed me? What the hell had I done?

“But I didn’t need you, you needed me, kid. I know that bullshit of a cure was you’re only fucking chance and it didn’t work. I’m sorry, Marie. I should have been there when you needed me, not the other way around.”

Logan rolled down next to me, his breath still uneven as he laid there next to me. I knew he was waiting for me to say something, to tell him what had gone wrong.

“Look,” I began, taking in a deep breath and keeping my voice even. “This ain’t an’ excuse but Ah was tired from mah trip, Ah haven’t slept in days, an’ Ah don’t wanna talk ‘bout this. Ah take it back, alright.”

But before I can continue with my petty excuses and avoiding his questions, he’s up and gone from my room leaving the door wide open in his wake.

I don’t move for a long time. I just laid there thinking about all the shit I’d done; reruns too fast for me to catch on, but enough to have me choking on my own tears. I was well aware that bring shit up like this was gonna drive him away from me and God knows I need Logan to keep me sane, to keep her from driving me insane.

Couldn’t anyone see that the guilt was killing me? That I’d been hurting for too long?

Didn’t anyone know that I’d come back seeking redemption for my killings?

Couldn’t they tell that I wasn’t the same girl they all knew?

Didn’t they know I was a threat to the school?


Dinner

I don’t know how to go about things anymore. I’d come back with the intentions of speaking to Hank and to the Professor about helping me but I was afraid they’d turn me away if they found out what I’d done. I was afraid that they’d finally realize I was no better than Mystique or Magneto that as a matter of fact I was a killer.

I’m not hungry or sleepy, I have absolutely no intentions of getting reacquainted with old friends or meeting the new faculty but Scott insisted that I needed to eat something, that maybe I could also meet the child he’d been telling me about so like the good Southern bell that I am I agree.

I’m sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria with Scott, a few tables away from Ororo and a statuesque blonde who keeps flicking me smiles from across the room. If I didn’t know better I’d say she was coming on to me, happened a lot after I took in Logan’s mutation.

I keep looking around the room, hoping to see Logan but I can’t place him anywhere. It’s like he’s purposely avoiding me but the Wolverine doesn’t do avoiding, I should know better. Instead I absentmindedly push around the food in my plate and try to listen to Scott who’s trying to make small talk for Hank’s sake. A few minutes later, Logan comes in carrying a thick stake and a bottle of Molson as he takes a seat with Ororo and the blonde like he has no care in the world.

“So how was that vacation, Rogue,” Scott finally asks. With a wide but perverse smile I turn to look at him, the answer right on the tip of my tongue.

“Ya know suga’,” I tell him, “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” I raise a brow.

“Not if you weren’t in Vegas,” he grins right back at me as he leans in with interest. I give a hearty laugh and shake my head.

“Not gonna happen, Scooter. How ‘bout ya tell meh bout that kid ‘stead.” He laughs and turns his attention to a grinning Hank, whose eyes keep flicking between the both of us, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“When did your mutation first develop?” he asks more seriously as he wipes the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

Frowning I respond, “When Ah was sixteen, a couple o’ months ‘fore Ah met Logan,” I tell him. “Why?”

“You are the first mutant I’ve meet whose mutation is defensive rather than offensive,” he waves in my direction as he takes a sip of his ice-cold water.

I shake my head as if to correct him, “Most folks don’t see it like that, mutants er’ not,” I point out. “If Ah come in contact with a human Ah can take their life force and their memories, sometimes even their abilities an’ if Ah touch a mutant Ah can take their memories, their mutation, anythin’ Ah want. How the hell is it defensive,” I look at him defiantly.

Surely I have nothing against the snuggly blue fur ball but what the hell does he know. If he knew how I’d used it to kill another mutant he wouldn’t be saying it was defensive. Hell, probably at some point it would get as bad as Jeannie’s, except I wouldn’t go about destroying the world, I’d go about killing the people closest to me. When I look up Scott is intently looking at me through his glasses, his jaw is set and his brows are pulled into a frown, like he’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking or better yet like he can tell what I’m thinking.

“I don’t assume to know your mutation better than you, Rogue, but I’ve been studying one very similar to yours,” he calmly explains. “I was just wondering if I could take a closer look at how it works. Maybe learn what trigger’s it.”

“Doesn’t werk like that,” I tell him quietly. My eyes linger on the Wolverine behind him and I shake my head again at Hank’s proposal. I’m more than sure that he can hear us despite all the laughing and screaming the kids are making.

“She’s only ever touched two mutants,” Scott tells Hank but I don’t correct him. He’d kick me out himself if he knew my dirty little secret. “Logan and Magneto,” he looks at me. I nod my head and push my white streaks behind my ears and I turn to look at Hank. He hasn’t stopped looking at me.

“What,” I ask rather annoyed than curious, he smiles warmly and turns his eyes to the child besides us.

“See the child sitting alone in that table,” he murmurs quietly. I lean forward into the table and try to look inconspicuously around Scott’s bulky frame as I try to get a better look at the young child whose sitting alone.

“He’s the one I was telling you about, Rogue,” Scott adds with a sip iced tea.
“His mutation work through physical contact just like yours,” Hank explains. “Except the child’s mutation isn’t offensive or defensive, it simply is. At this point, his mutation is telepathic and works only through touch but the Professor and I have arrived to the conclusion that just like your mutation, his will develop too.”

“Wait what,” I ask as I turn to look at Hank and casting Scott a questioning look. No one had bothered to tell me that my mutation was going to evolve.

“You see Rogue,” Hanks says. “The child can’t touch at all, just like you. Right now all his mutation does is transfer thoughts through contact but the Professor and I strongly believe that by the time the child is your age his mutation will have developed similar characteristics,” he finishes although he doesn’t elaborate. I know exactly what he means.

I twist in my chair to look at the child again. He has dark brown hair neatly kept and well groomed, black curious eyes, and he’s wearing gloves as thick as mine. I can’t help the prang of pain that settles in my chest at the realization that just like me that child is going to suffer for the rest of his life and he still has a long way to go. I turn to look back at Hank and Scott realizing that this is exactly why they were looking for me. And for the first time in a long time I forget about San Francisco and the woman I killed there.

“Y’er hoping that if ya can help one of us, then ya can help the other,” I ask.

Without waiting for an answer or thinking twice about what I’m about to do, I gather my tray and go sit with the lonely boy at the other table.

“Hi,” I tell the child as I take a seat across from him. He hasn’t eaten either; he’s been pushing his food around the plate just like I had moments ago, except he’s too focused to even bother to look up at me.

“Hi,” he sighs without looking up to meet my questioning eyes. I look about the room ignoring the questioning eyes of the students and the rest of the faculty; Scott and Hank have joined the faculty table, trying to give us some privacy.

“Mah name’s Rogue,” I tell him as I take a long sip of my cranberry juice hoping that will catch his attention. “But ya can call meh, Marie,” I tell him. He turns to look at me, a slight frown darkening his childish features as he sets his jaw just like Scott a few moments ago, he crosses him arms across his chest as he eyes me questioningly.

“You’re the girl who took the cure,” he states as he sits up straight, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yeah, Ah am. Ah assume ya know what mah mutation does,” I lift a brow, doing my best impersonation of Logan.

“You steal people’s mutations,” he states as-a-matter-of-factly. I shake my head and lean across the table, smiling. His assertions don’t bother me, after all, that’s what the child’s heard I can hardly blame him but I can change his opinion.

“Nah,” I tell him casually. “It werks like y’ers,” I take his gloved little hand in mine and look at it turning it around in my hand as if trying to find some answer there before I continue to speak, meanwhile he’s trying to pry free out of my grip.

“Ah ain’t gonna hurt ya kid,” at the sound of my words that has me casting Logan a long glance from where I’m now sitting. He must’ve heard me because he’s intently looking up from his plate and looking at me and the kid, his head cocked to the side listening.

“What’s yer name,” I ask the young boy as I release his hand, returning my full attention back to him.

“Adam,” he tells me as he resumes pushing his food around his plate. “But the kids here call me Vampire,” he looks up at me, his face and ears flushing red. I burst out laughing and shake my head. He can’t help but continue to stare at me with wide eyes, like I’ve just done something that’s gonna get the both of us in trouble. When I realize most of the conversations around us have died down, I take a quick look around us and realize we’ve captured several of the students and teacher’s attention.

“Kids here ain’t that ‘riginal,” I tell him. “What do ya think they called meh when Ah first got here?” He shrugs his shoulders. I lean back in my seat disappointed, shaking my head again. And here I thought I was a legend again.

“Parasite, Vampire, Death, Leech but then another kid came and took the name so they stopped callin’ me that. Bet that’s where they’re getting’ those silly name to call ya,” I tell him apologetically. “Sorry,” I tell him. The kid grins.

“So now it’s Rogue?”

“Yeah, for them,” I tell him as I look around the room again. “Except you an’ Logan get to call meh Marie,” I smile.

“Why only me and Mr. Logan,” he asks with interest as he eyes the apple on my tray. I take it and place on his tray hoping he’ll eat it, he smiles and takes it in both hands as he leans in to take a full bite. Leave it to kids to be kids.

“Logan brought meh here. First mutant Ah ever met and he isn’t ‘fraid to touch meh. An’ you,” I tell him. “Cause we’re alike.” He nods his head and continues to eat the apple.

“So,” I tell him tiredly, “Ya got any friends ‘round here,” I change the subject. “Ah could help you with yer work an’ stuff,” I offer. Then I add, “Ah ain’t ‘fraid to touch ya, by what Ah hear y’ers ain’t that bad.”

“Sure Ms. Rogue, I mean Ms. Marie…Ms.”

“Just Marie, booger. Ah ain’t old enough to be yer momma. Ah think Ah can pass off as yer sister, the least,” I grin at him and he laughs.

“So what can your mutation do,” he whispers across the table, lifting himself up on his elbows. I lean over the table pointing to his food.

“Ya eat an’ Ah’ll tell ya, deal,” I lift a brow. He nods his head and dives his spoon into the macaroni and cheese.

“Ah can absorb thoughts, a person’s life force, their mutation and use it as mah own. Sometimes Ah have a better understan’ of it than they do,” I confess to the young boy in a whisper. His little mouth has turned into a little “o” and he’s once again diving his spoon into his lunch and stuffing his mouth.

“And can you touch people,” he asks with a mouthful. I use my knife and fork to cut the stake and take a small bite, nodding my head. Once I’ve swallowed I answer him.

“No. If Ah hold on fer too long Ah can kill’em,” I look away and back to my plate. My thoughts drift back to San Francisco and the Gold Gate Bridge. I haven’t even realized that Adam is speaking to me until he’s waving his gloved little hand in front my face.

“Marie,” he asks alarmed causing several of the students to turn our way again. I shake my head hopping to push those thoughts away.

“Ah’m ok, Ah was just, uh tired. Is all,” I tell him as I take another small bite of the steak. “What ‘bout you,” I ask.

“The Professor and Dr. Hank think my mutation could be like yours,” he whispers again. “They’re doing some tests on me to see if they can help me,” he says as he picks up his fork and continues with his lunch. “I wonder if I can touch you,” he whispers.

Professor’s Wing
12:31 a.m.

I can hear the roaring thunder and the rain heavily pouring down, but not outside my window. It’s not of Storm’s brewing, but my own.

I can see Jean ahead of me, her long red hair flowing freely in the dead of night; she’s facing away from me, her face raised into the dark heavens, her eyes closed.

I’ve waited so long to see her.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Rogue,” she says to me, smiling. I stammer for words, not knowing what to say, because what do you tell the woman you thought you loved, even through someone else? What do you tell the woman you thought was lost?

“J-Jean,” I hear myself ask. I can feel the soft tears streaming down my face and for a moment I too turn to look up at the sky. I can see the rain falling around me but never quite touching me, I know Jean is doing that.

“Oh Rogue,” she turns to me, her eyes bright and full of fire, the ever-present shield of the Phoenix. “Isn’t it beautiful,” she asks me. “The night stars here are so much more beautiful,” she says and then turns back to the sky. “And the peace,” she breathes, slowly closing her eyes. “There’s no peace here.”

“Ah…Ah don’t know what to say,” I tell her. Quickly she turns to look at me again, her smile fading. She walks over to where I’m standing; she’s so close I quickly jump back afraid I’ll hurt her. To that she shakes her head, one hand reaching for me.

“There’s nothing you need to say to me. I already know,” she caresses my face, her expression so sad that for a moment I can’t help but frown because it mars her beauty. “You can’t hurt me,” she says. “Nothing can hurt me anymore,” she says.

“Wh…where… are we,” I ask her. She looks around, her eyes flickering to the dark corner of the forest. I follow her tormenting gaze, the same one she wore when she walked off the jet. I can see the lake, the stables, and the main gate.

“We’re in the mansion,” I realize as I turn to look back at her.

“This is home,” she states. “Isn’t it?”

“Y…yes. Ah guess so,” I tell her as I turn to look back at the shadows. There’s are more people here, but they aren’t hiding. It’s more like they’re confined to the shadows, their own personal hells.

“Who are they,” I ask her.

“Them,” she asks. “They’re the people you’ve touched,” she says. It takes me while to figure it out but when I do it still doesn’t make sense. “Cody, Logan, Erik, Carol,” she counts them with her fingers.
“Why are ya here then,” I ask her. “Ah never touched ya,” I take a step back, away from her. She isn’t Jean, I tell myself. She’s Phoenix.

“I’m here to help you, Rogue. I know you blame yourself,” she says matter-of-factly. “This,” she looks down at herself, “Was a long time coming,” a rough, male voice echoes her words. “This is your fault,” she suddenly says.

“What?”

“You should have saved me,” she says as she takes both my arms, shaking me with a frightening force as I shake my head, refusing to believe what I’m. All around us the rain continues to fall, this time it falls down on us too, the earth shaking uncontrollably under our feet.

“No,” I breathe. “Ya can’t blame meh fer that,” I clench my teeth to keep from crying out in pain. It’s a pain far more consuming than the guilt and the fear of losing myself among all the voices, because suddenly I realize this is the inside of my head, this is home.

“You killed Carol,” she rages on. “Killed us,” she shrieks as the rain dies down and the stars above us being to crash down all around, burning Ororo’s garden. I can’t help but look and helplessly watch the fire spread, consuming everything in its path. The mansion suddenly lies in ruins, nothing but smithereens and small fires that remind me of my safe haven, among the ruins are the lifeless bodies of the people I deemed my family.

“No,” I shriek. “No, no, no.”

“Yes,” Jean viscously hisses, a slow smiles spreading on withered, pale lips. “Logan never loved you,” she continues. “He never will. The sooner you realize that, the sooner we can destroy this,” she looks are us. “This is the way Xavier’s childish dream should end.”

Before my eyes her blazing flame disappears and in her place stands a blonde. A woman I am well acquainted with. Those trapped in the shadows are the people I’ve touched, people I’ve killed; they’re the voices trapped in my head.

“You killed me,” Carol Danvers screeches beside me as she drags me around the ashes and ruins that were once the mansion and its inhabitants. As I pass them by, I see the Professor lying face down on the mud his body completely burnt. Ororo lies a few feet away from him, horror stricken and brunt as well. Bobby lies under my feet, his body completely covered in ice but shattered in sickly red chunks. As I look ahead I can see Scott’s lifeless form lying over a small, untouchable child, Adam, their eyes wide open in disbelief and horror like Storm’s, frozen forever in ice as he died trying to protect him. More children lie in bloodbaths, fire still consuming some as the thick scent of death rises into the night air suffocating me until I could no longer bear to breathe.

“Wh…what is this?”

“This,” she motions with a careless wave of her hand, “Is your beloved family. There, up a head,” she points to the wrought iron gates that lay broken and wide open, “Lay humans and mutants alike.” I pull away from her searching frantically among the dead for the one man truly immortal, the only one that could have survived the path of destruction.

“Who,” I hear my voice break. “Who…did this,” I ask. Carol takes a long moment, raising her face into the night air as the rain cleanses down tears I cannot see, her hands placed neatly behind her back as a smile envelops her blood-red lips.

“You did,” she says just as I kneel down besides Logan’s lifeless body.


1:47 a.m.

“Marie,” someone tries to shakes me awake.

“No, no, no,” I cry, eyes tightly shut.

“Marie, look at me kid. Look at me,” Logan pleads. “It was only a nightmare, darling. It’s alright,” he rocks me in his arms. The moment I recognize his voice, I jump off the bed and away from him.

Slowly I look down at myself searching for the endless pools of blood that surely covered my clothes just moments ago but there is no trace. I notice then that all I’m wearing is a sweaty black cami and underwear, my long white streaked brown hair hangs lose.

“Hey, hey,” Logan rises from the bed, his hands in the air. “Don’t cry,” he gently pleads. “Look at me darling, it’s alright. It was only a nightmare.”

Attentively I reach up to feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. “Ah…Ah didn’t mean to,” I tell him. “It was an accident, Ah swear.”

Rogue the voices all call at the same time in my head causing me to flinch and back up against the wall, grasping my head with both hands as I cry out in pain.

“Get…get out!”

You did this, a female’s voice whispers. You killed them! You killed them all!

“Get. Out.”

Join us, Rogue. Join us.

“No!,”

“Marie,” Logan is quickly at my side, the comforter wrapped protectively around me so he can safely touch me. He’s shaking me again. “Shh, kid. It’s alright,” he rocks me.

“Make her stop,” I moan. “Make her stop.”

“Who darling,” he grinds his teeth as we both sink down to the floor, my hands still clamping down my ears trying to shut the voices out. They’re so loud I can barely hear Logan speaking.

“Carol,” I scream. The last thing I remembering seeing are the darkening shadows of the people I’ve touched.

3:00 a.m.

There’s a heated conversation going on. Someone’s trying to calm them down, I think its Hank. Logan and Scott must be going at it again; I wonder what it is this time. Scott probably got the last of the coffee again; Logan isn’t really a morning person, he tends to get his panties in a twist over coffee. Wait—

I feel something. There’s a constant pressure in my hand, like something small is constantly squeezing. Slowly, I open my eyes and stare at the bright lights until all I can see are black spots clouding my vision. I try to sit up but I’m too dizzy I can’t seem to focus.

“Marie!” A little voice squeaks beside me. I turn towards the voice but it takes me a long time until my eyes can focus on him.

“Damn,” I hear myself say. “Where the hell am Ah now?”

“Rogue,” Hanks approaches me. “How are you feeling, dear? You’ve been out for two hours,” he informs me.

“Ah…Ah’m fine. What the hell am Ah doin’ here,” I tell them. I look around the medical bay and notice Scott, his arms tightly crosses over his chest, Logan quickly making his way over to me, Hank standing beside me checking the monitors, the Professor standing between Logan and Scott, and Adam sitting on the bed beside me.

“You had a lapse,” the Hank quickly explains as Logan helps me sit up. I look down at his gloved hands and frown; it’s never bothered me before. He looks at me funny, like he’s waiting for me to say something but instead I hop off the medical slab determined to leave. There’s no way I’m telling them what the hell is going on.

“What happened, Rogue,” the Professor asks gently. I stop and turn to look at him. I turn to look at Adam, smiling gently at the young boy.

“Shouldn’t ya be sleepin’,” I ask him as I raise my brows. Quickly he nods his head and turns to look at Logan, casting him a weary glance. In turn Logan nods his head and looks at the door. “Ah see ya at breakfast, kid,” I tell him before he disappears behind the steel doors. Once he’s left I turn back to Logan and the Professor.

“What the hell was that, wakin’ up the kid,” I cross my arms in front of me.

“He heard you, Rogue,” the Professor explains.

“Was Ah that loud,” I ask.

“No,” Scott answers as he removes his sweater and hands it to me. I look down at myself and notice that I’m only wearing the black cami and underwear. I take the sweater and quickly slip it over my head, murmuring obscenities.

“Jesus, Logan. Ya coulda dressed meh,” I turn to him. He looks at me with an incredulous look, like I’ve said something too embarrassing; I roll my eyes and smile at Scott as Logan growls at him. “Thanks.”

“He’s established a connection with you, Rogue. Hank and I have been thinking that it maybe because of the similarities in your mutations,” the Professor explains. “But that’s not why you’re here, are you?”

“What did he tell ya,” I ask.

“That’s the problem,” Logan growled. “The kid said nothing.”

“Are yer upset ‘cause he didn’t rat meh out? Not everyone is scared of ya, Logan.”

“Rogue, what did you hear,” Hank asks with curiosity. “What did you dream?”

I cast them all the same glance, one of embarrassment and fear, one of pain and guilt. How the hell was I supposed to tell them I’d dreamed up their precious Jean? How was I supposed to tell them that the voices were trying to drive me insane? That I’d killed a woman while I was away?

“The voices are gettin’ louder, they won’t let meh eat or sleep. Sometimes Ah can barely concentrate on little things. Other times I don’t hear’em fer days, sometime even months.” I tell them as I plan of leaving the Jean and Carol part out.

“And what do those voices tell you,” the Professor asks. “What do they ask you to do?”

8:30 am
Back in the West Wing

It’s morning and the sun is steadily seeping through the thickly curtained windows. I still haven’t slept; I refuse to close my eyes even for the briefest moment. I see things that aren’t there; people that are long gone and dead, Carol must be messing with my head again.
I sigh and roll over on my side, facing away from the window. I missed breakfast with Adam; the poor kid must be going out of his mind wanting to know if I’m alright, but I’m not, not with all the voices constantly screaming in my head.

I was released from the medical bay under the condition that I seek the Professor as soon as possible. I guess they still think I’m asleep, that I must need it badly. And I do. I haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep since after my mutation came crashing back down. At first I thought it was something I’d gotten from Logan but his nightmares stopped plaguing my dreams a long time ago.
I didn’t tell them what I do to silence the voices. I simply told the Professor they were things they used to do before, like Erik liked to read the same book over and over, Cody likes to watch ESPN on Saturday nights, and Logan he’s pleased once I’ve had a couple of drinks or smoked one of those damned Cuban cigars he likes. But Carol doesn’t conform, she riles them up, she tries to set them up against me.

But in all of this where is Me? How did I keep myself sane while I was gone, how did I keep them from drowning me out even after all the turmoil Carol began to cause inside my head? Simple. I indulged in as much alcohol and drugs as I could, a bar fight or two, a broken arm that hurts like a bitch in winter, running and training every morning and every time I couldn’t sleep.

You see, I realized something before I left. It had nothing to do with Jean or Logan, this was about me. No one really cared about me, no one really understood and I guess I developed a little of resentment over it. I was tired of the pity looks they gave me. Even after the whole incident at Liberty Island they still thought I was a child and I was anything but. I mentally I was older and wiser even more so than the Professor. I knew things far beyond their age, beyond their education and no one understood that. No Hank with all his medical expertise, not the Professor with all his wisdom and his mind-reading abilities. If they had they could have stopped me long before I decided to leave.
So instead of seeing the good of this place I forced myself to think it was a prison.

This place is a prison
And these people aren’t your friends
Inhaling thrills through $20 bills
And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again
And again

There’re guards at the on ramp armed to the teeth
And you may case the grounds from Cascades to Pugent sound
But you are not permitted to leave

There’s a big world out there like the one I saw on the screen
In my living room late last night,
It was almost too bright to see
And I know that it’s not a party if it happens every night
Pretending there’s glamour and candelabra
When you’re drinking by candlelight

What does it take to get a drink in this place?

What does it take, how long must I wait?

Maybe it was time I come clean, to find that peace that Jean said she couldn’t find. What was the worst that could happen?

Xavier’s Office
10:00 a.m.

I took a quick shower and tossed my hair in an intricate braid. Then I walked into the closet and threw on some dark wash jeans, a white t-shirt, a blue flannel shirt, the only pair of boots I own, and a thin pair of light blue gloves. Then I slipped out of my room and dashed for the Professor’s office. When I got there Scott let me know that he was on the phone with the Senator.

“Rogue,” the Professor greets me outside his office. I’m sitting down on the floor, leaning back against the wall as I wait for matters to be solved. I hope it’s not the Mutant Registration Act again; we had a couple of setbacks after Golden Gate with Phoenix.

“Professor,” I smile as I quickly rise from the wooden floor. “Sorry Ah took so long,” I tell him although I don’t give him an excuse. I rather not lie to his face. We both know I didn’t go back to sleep, I was too shaken up to try to sleep.

“No problem dear, please, come in. Hank will be with us shortly,” he pushes his door open inviting me inside. I force myself to smile and let myself in, as I walk to the center of the room to await further instruction I remove my gloves and wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans then quickly slip the gloves back on. Meanwhile he closes the door and walks back to his desk, where he takes a seat behind his dark oak desk.

“Did you get any rest,” he asks his voice hopeful. I shake my head and pace behind the set of the chairs positioned for guests in front of his desk.

“No,” I tell him crossing my arms under my breasts. “Ah missed breakfast with Adam,” I tell him. “Ah’m gonna make it up to him later on today, if ya don’t mind,” I add. “Maybe I could take him to the city for a nice lunch,” I lift my brows hopeful.

“I’m sure he’d like that. He did come to me with a couple of delicate issues,” the Professor frowns.

“He did,” I ask as I stop pacing for a moment.

“He pointed out that maybe you can touch each other,” the Professor mentions just as Hank walks into the office, a set of files in his hand. Gently he closes the door behind himself, shaking his head.
“Sorry for the delay, I caught Logan listening in,” he tells us.

“Why doesn’t that surprise meh,” I tell them glancing over to the Professor, he must’ve known Logan was listening in; Logan must’ve wanted to know if I’d slept or not.

“Sorry my dear,” Hank smiles sheepishly and takes a seat in one of the chairs. I mumble under my breath, cursing Logan for his lack of tact, his damn well hearing, and his fucking curiosity.

“Would you like to sit,” the Professor smiles as he extends his hand to the chair next to Hank. I shake my head, politely.

“No thank ya, Professor. Just ask away, Ah’ll try to answer each of yer questions as best as Ah can,” I tell them as I walk to the window and look out into the garden. Adam’s class is outside; the children are making snowmen, making snow angels, and tossing several snow balls at each other. Adam is leaning against a tree, hiding from the rest of the children, snowball in hand. I grin, that’s my boy.

“Rogue,” Hanks asks.

“Ah’m sorry what,” I turn to look at them and lean back against the windowsill, arms still crossed under my breasts.

“Hank wanted to know if you would agree to several tests,” the Professor answers.

“I’m hoping, dear Rogue, that we could determine whether your mutation and Adam’s cancel out,” Hank explains. I frown and tilt my head to the side.

“Ya’ll mean like the math problems? When opposite signs cancel each other out?”

“Exactly,” Hanks replies as he opens one of the files he brought in. “I’d take a small sample of your skin, run some blood works, perform a CAT scan and we’re set. I already ran these tests on Adam when he first got here, that’s how the Professor and I got the conclusion that your mutations are very similar in nature.”

“Professor,” I ask. “Ya mentioned Adam came to ya with several issues, what were the others,” I ask. The Professor shares a silent conversation with Hank and after a few brief moments he turns his attention back to me.

“You must understand he’s a child Rogue, you’re the only adult he’s opened up to. Hank and I have been trying for months…”

“And then young Rogue comes along and she achieves the impossible,” Hank adds.

“Just spit it out, what did Adam ask ya to do,” I list a brow.

“He asked the Professor to convince you to adopt him, Rogue,” Hank answers.

“Do it,” I tell them.

“Why don’t you think about it,” the Professor suggests. “I’m sure you haven’t considered all angles, Rogue,” the Professor continues but I won’t have it.

“Listen Professor,” I tell him. “If ya mean financially, Ah can do that. Ah’ve got plenty saved up under different names, and in different countries. Ah can take care of him here, Ah aint going anywhere. Ah ain’t gonna run again.”

“Rogue,” the Professor shakes his head.

“Charles, We should hear her out,” Hank suggests.

“Look Ah ain’t never gonna have children. Mah mutation isn’t somethin’ Ah can control but this, this Ah can. Ah can give him a good future, pay for a good university. Ah can be a good parent, Sir,” I insist. “An’ Ah understand him. What human is gonna accomplish that? He doesn’t gotta go through what Ah did.”

“Why don’t the two of you go into town like you suggested,” the Professor reminds me. “You could discuss it then. Becoming a parent is no easy task Rogue, you would be raising him on your own, no father figure to support you,” the Professor points out.

“Professor, Ah know Ah can do that. Mah mom thought me good. Ah can cook, ah can clean, an’ Ah can take care of mahself. Ah got the means and Ah got the will. He don’t need no father figure an’ Ah ain’t goin’ away. Ah’ve seen him,” I tell them.

“He likes it here, he feels safe here an’ leaving would be a mistake. Here he could have that father figure ya mention ‘bout. Scott is good with kids an’ so are ya two. Ah don’t needa get married.”

“She’s made a good point, Charles. They don’t have to leave,” Hank offers.

“Please Professor, Ah’ll talk to him today. Ah’ll ask him what he wants.”

“Alright, talk the young boy and let me know what he decides,” the Professor finally agrees.

“Thank ya’ll,” I tell them before I turn to leave.

“Oh and Rogue,” Hank calls after me. “See me down in Medbay early morning so we can begin those tests.”

“Sure thing, Doc,” I smile as I slip out of the room and gently close the door behind me. Leaving against the other side of the wall is Logan, both arms crossed across his chest frowning. He’s wearing a pair of jeans with oil stains in his pockets, a white t-shirt and a red flannel with his boots.

“Didn’t yer momma ever tell ya its bad manners to be listenin’ behind closed doors,” I tell him, trying to sound annoyed.

“Might of, but I don’t remember,” he answers me, no signs of moving from where he’s standing.

“Fine,” I tell him, “Then spare meh the lecture,” I tell him as I walk away heading towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

“I noticed you didn’t mention me in there,” he glances at the Professor’s office as he follows close behind me.

“Oh yeah, why would Ah?”

“You really don’t think I’d let you raise a kid all on your own?” I laugh and stop to look back at Logan.

“Logan, suga’, ya leave every time ya get the chance. An’ like Ah said in there, Ah don’t need no man. Ah do alright just by mahself.”

“You said it yourself, Marie, by yourself.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Logan hesitates, choosing his words carefully, “He ain’t no doll of yours, kid. He’s flesh and the kids’ got feelings. One bad choice and you’ll mess the kid up.”

“Ya would know plenty, wouldn’t ya,” I tell him as I continue into the kitchen. “What’s it to you what Ah do? Ya don’t own meh,” I tell him sternly. “Ah’m free to do as Ah please, kid or no kid.”

“Listen Marie,” he tell me like he’s trying to make a child understand. That patronizing bastard. “I’m just trying to get you to think about it.”

“Ah don’t have to. An’ in case ya haven’t noticed, bub, Ah ain’t a kid. Ah’ll handle this,” I growl quietly.

“Yeah? What’s gonna happen when you can’t shut those damned voices in your head, huh? Who’s gonna watch the kid then?”

“It ain’t gonna happen,” I tell him through grit teeth as I open the fridge and look around for a bottle of water. “Hank and Ah are gonna werk on that,” I tell him as I take a deep breath. “Now just stop, alright. Ah ain’t gonna change mah mind.”

“Mind if I come along with ya then,” he tries a different angle.

“Fer what,” I almost shriek.

“So we can talk to the kid. See what we’re gonna do.”

“We?” There’s no we, Logan. Ah’m doin’ this,” I continue stubbornly.

“Marie will you just listen,” he lets out a frustrated growl. “I promised I’d take care of ya. An’ if ya adopt the kid he’s my problem too. I ain’t leaving you alone in this.”

“Fine,” I tell him as close the fridge door with a bump of my hip. “As long as ya understand the kids’ mine.”

Somewhere in New York
11:56 p.m.


I sat up as slowly as I could just as a sharp pain tore through my body. My breath hitched in my throat forcing me to turn on my side in a fetal position to stop the emending panic attack from shattering all my façade and my crumbling defenses.

Slowly I look around the dark, unfamiliar room as my sight adjusted after blinking a couple of times. My head was throbbing, my back was still, and my lips were cracked and dry. I unclenched my bare fingers noticing the thin gloves are gone. Quickly I patted my pockets searching frantically for my cell phone.

This wasn’t exactly the first time this had happened to me, but last time it happened at night. The first time, I had gone off to bed and woken up sipping iced coffee and reading the New York Times a week before I returned to the mansion. Now, I have no idea when I lost sense of time…or of how long I’ve been gone. Not to mention no fucking idea of how I got here.

Slowly I turn on my back again and sit up. It’s dark outside; I can hear the crickets chirping and the sound of passing cars. I stand up from the floor, highly dazed and confused. This was worse than last time. Now I know there’s something wrong with me, people don’t just lose sense of time like I do, not even sleepwalkers.

After fumbling blind for the touch-screen cell phone, I clench it in my hand and punch a few numbers, slowly bring it to my ear as I wait for the other person on the other side of the line to answer. After a few rings they answer.

“Where the hell are you, kid,” Logan roars into my ear. I flinch and pull the phone away before he shatters my eardrums.

“Uh…,” I feel around the darkness, searching for a place to sit as I answer. “Have Kitty or Jubilee trace the call, then come find meh,” I tell him just as I take a seat.

“What the fu—where are you, Marie,” he stops himself and presses the subject like he has any fucking right. In the background I can hear him stomping down the hall and banging murderously on a door.

“If Ah had a fuckin’ idea Ah’d tell ya but Ah don’t so go find one of ‘em and come get meh,” I grit my teeth as I lean back on the chair. With my free hand I raise my blouse up a few inches and notice the large bruise darkening on my stomach. Now that I didn’t have last time.

“Jesus Marie,” he breathes. “Stay on the fucking line,” he cusses as he shoves the phone onto someone. “Here, get me the location,” he says to someone. I can hear someone typing furiously onto the keyboard, clicking here and there a few times. I’m more than sure he went to Kitty. She wouldn’t ask any questions to where as Jubilee would try to come. A few seconds of complete silence and then he’s stomping out of the room and downstairs.

“Do Ah still have to stay on the line,” I gently ask.

“Damn it,” he cusses again as he closes the door of his pick-up. That brings me a sudden peace of mind I gladly welcome. At least one thing out of this whole mess is predictable.

“Oh thank Gawd,” I sigh in relief. “Ah thought ya were brinin’ the bike,” I run my hand over my forehead as if cleaning invisible sweat. The last thing I need to puke my brains out in front of Logan.

He sighs, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he says. Then he growls, “Don’t fucking move.” Then he ends the call by snapping his phone shut.

“Dick,” I murmur under my breath as I force myself to walk to the door. The old floorboards creak under my weight, not like I weigh much but still. It gives me a very good idea of how old the place is even if I can’t clearly see it. It must be the throbbing in my head that’s affecting my sight.

I open the door and sit on the steps, leaning the side of my head against the wooden rail with closed eyes. I don’t bother looking around or worry as to where I am or how I got here. I need to get back as much as my composure as I can before Logan get’s back. Later, when I get back to the mansion and the comforts of my room I can trace my location and check the place out with a flash light.

But first things were first.

I needed to have a long chat with my kid. My kid. That brought on a whole different set of feelings. Like when I’d seen him playing with the other kids back at the mansion. Alright, so I hadn’t spent much time with him but I was the best option for that kid. As soon as I got back I was gonna take as much aspirin as I needed, take a quick shower and find the kid. Didn’t matter if I had to wake him up. We had to talk about him, about his real parents, about his mutation, my mutation, and how comfortable he was with me becoming his mother.

It was something different from what I felt I had with Logan. It was a whole new connection. What Logan and I have is comradeship. We connect mostly because I’ve got him in my head and because we know each other so well, better than most people can say. We’re like two fucking peas of the same pod because were older than those around us, because we’ve been through things most people would never recover from. And I have to admit, the whole deal about him being my protector of sorts strengthens what we have, whether he really cares or not.

But the kid and I? Well, our bond most probably stems from the similarities in our mutations. I’ll do whatever I can I to keep him from going through what I went. He’s so young and he’s already a mutant. He’s already a freak among freaks…but he’s too young. He should be out playing sports, having fun, and living a normal life. Maybe now I’ll finally understand what Logan sees in me. Maybe that’s why I didn’t stop to consider my actions. Logan not once stopped to consider what it would mean for him to protect me…and God help me I’d lay my life for either of them—

I open my eyes just as my ears pick up the sound of tires rolling against a dirt road. A few seconds later there’s a set of headlight approaching me at a stead speed. This is what cautious-driving-Logan looks like. If I weren’t for the headache I’d be grinning like an idiot and with something stupid itching on the tip of my tongue. Probably, ‘Hiya suga’. Ya ferget yer glasses?’

He brings the truck to an abrupt halt just as he spot me. He turns off the headlights and climbs out of the truck just as I bring myself to my feet with the aid of the wooden rail. His eyes are narrowed and his lips are pressed into a thin line. He’s wearing a fresh set of clothes. Clean jeans, a freshly pressed white shirt, and the unmistakable flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“Is this were you been all day,” he says as quietly as he can. He’s trying to keep as much composure as the Wolverine can but we both know it’s front. Logan nor the Wolverine really care what I think about his composure or the tone of his voice. But I do.

“Ah have no idea,” I say as honestly as I can deciding to ignore what he’s implying. I’ll runaway whenever the hell I can, because I can. Kid or no kid. He ain’t the boss of me.

“Is that yer fucking answer,” he explodes. I’m still standing on the bottom step, my hands clenching the railing afraid that I’ll lose my step and fall flat on my face. “I have been looking for you the whole damned day and the best you can do is say you have no idea,” he pinches the bridge of his nose. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Logan has never been this upset with me. Ever. Not when I began dating Bobby, not when I runaway, not when I cussed him out after I can back. Why the hell was he upset now?

“Damn it, Marie,” he sighs. “Where is—your nose is bleeding, kid,” he quickly says before he continues to where did I leave the car. I opened my eyes and ran the sleeve of my flannel under my nose just to make sure. I stared at the blood as Logan handed me his handkerchief.

“Let’s go,” he places on hand at the small of my back as he leads me to the truck. I unceremoniously hold his handkerchief to my nose as I tilt my head back to stop the bleeding. Logan doesn’t say a word after that. He simply helps me into the passenger’s seat and helps me buckle up as I rest my head back on the seat as he closes the door. I hear him climb into the driver’s seat and sink his foot into the gas pedal.

“Ya… should… slow down,” I suggest. “’Member what happened last time,” I raise my brows. “Ya flew out through the ‘shield,” I said quickly as I continued to press the handkerchief to my nose. I could taste the blood in the back of my throat, the bile quickly rising up my mouth. I swallowed again and felt around for the radio. He steals a quick glance at me, growling.

“It’s either that ‘er yer gonna have to pull over,” I lower the volume on the radio.

“We’re almost there,” he says quickly as he places both hands on the steering wheel. “What the hell happened to you? Thought you and I were taking the kid to the city?”

I sighed and sat up straight, turning off the radio as I turned to face him. “Why don’t we talk ‘bout this later,” I plead. “Ah can taste the blood in the back of mah throat and yer driving ain’t helpin’. Last thing we need is fer me to puke mah guts all over yer truck…not to mention Hank is gonna ask the same thing and Ah don’t wann repeat mahself,” I said quickly.

Lower levels of the mansion
12:40 a.m.

“Damn it, Logan. Put meh down. Ah can walk,” I protest as Hank appears down the hall with a pain of medical gloves in his hand. I take them without a word and quickly put them on. In the perfect light I can now see that my hands had been covered in blood as well as my flannel and tank top.
“Sonofabitch,” I cussed under my breath as Logan set me on the medical table. I was just laying down when Hank’s furry blue hand stopped me.

“Sit up, Rogue. I don’t want you choking on your own blood,” he says gravely. “Why don’t you tell me what happened,” he casts Logan a serious look.

“What,” I turn from Logan back to Hank. “We were arguin’ down the hall an’ things got heated,” I shrug. Hank growls before he turns to look at Logan.

“Get out,” he says as he takes a step forward towards an open-mouthed Logan.

“Kidding,” I snicker before either of them has the chance to speak again. When both men turn to look me I pull the handkerchief away from my nose, as wiggle my feet unable to touch the white marble floor.

“Oh alright,” I sigh. “Ah have no idea, okay,” I look at them both. “Ah woke up ‘bout an hour ago a few miles away from here with no car and no idea how Ah got there…and before ya say it, no ah haven’t had a beer since Ah decided to adopt Adam. Now give me a few tampons, a couple of aspirin and let me go,” I suggest as I hop of the slab, cringing.

“Not a chance, Rogue,” Hank says as she sets me back on the table. “I’m doing the blood works, the skin sample, and the CAT scan now. Has the loss of time happened before,” he raises his brows as he rips one of the fingers off my glove. In its place he places the heart monitor.

“Once, while Ah was away. About a week ago was the first time. Except then Ah woke up well rested, enjoyin’ iced coffee and reading the Times.” After a few moments I look down at my hand, frowning. “What the hell is that for? We’re just runnin’ some quick test right,” I quickly panic, ready to hop off the table again. This time Logan is expecting it so he places a warm hand on my thigh.

“You ain’t going anywhere kid.”

“Ah gotta go talk to Adam—“No ya don’t. He’s staying with Jubilee,” Logan cuts me off.

“What the hell is he doin’ with her,” I hear myself shriek.

“She got to him to sleep, kid was too shaken when he saw me carrying you in,” he looked to Hank.

“Oh Gawd,” I struggle to get off the table again. “Ah gotta find him. Tell him Ah’m alright.”

“Not with that nose bleed you ain’t going anywhere,” Logan says. “And it’s final kid. Don’t want you scarring the kid. You’ll see him in the morning.”

“Change into these,” Hank places a set of clean clothes beside me. “I’ll be prepping the CAT scan and readying an IV in case there is need for it. I’ll be back in a few minutes with a few syringes and test tubes,” he says to us before he’s out the doors again.

“Ya mind steppin’ out,” I raise my brows at Logan. He moves away and drags a chair from Hank’s desk and turns it around. The chair creaks with his massive weight as he sits with his back to me.
“Ain’t going anywhere, darling. So don’t make a fuss and just change,” he says. I sigh again looking down at my boots before realizing removing my boots won’t be an easy task, especially not the bruise on my side.

“Eh, Logan?” I call tentively to him. He doesn’t turn around but I know he’s listening. “We have a problem…Ah have no way of taking off my boots for two reasons. If Ah lean forward we’re gonna have a puddle of blood on this beautiful and pristine marble and even if Ah weren’t bleedin’ Ah can’t even touch mah knees without the bruise on my side throbbing.”

Logan rose from the chair he’d positioned to face away from me and walked back towards the medical table. He took one of my legs, his hand place under my calf in his hand while he used the other to pull the boot off my foot. He then switched over to the other foot and pulled off the other boot.

“Anything else,” he mocked me.

“Yeah,” I unfastened my belt and hopped off the medical bed. “Turn around suga’.”

He gave a small chuckle and walked back to his chair. I dropped my pants and threw at the back of Logan’s head just for kicks. I slipped off of my flannel and tossed it at Logan’s ready hand. I remained in the blood stained tank top and hopped back onto the table with a grunt.’

“Ya can look now,” I said to him. “An’ Ah need a tissue ‘er somethin’,” I breathed through my mouth as blood tricked down my lips. Logan got up from the chair and handed her a box of klenex.

“Are you decent,” Hank stuck his head through the doors looking to Logan for confirmation.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over. An’ where are those tampons,” I asked him. “They’re gonna be useful for when ya stick me in the scan.”

Hank chuckled and Logan simply shook his head. “Let’s conduct that blood work now,” he brought back a silver tray with syringes and test tubes. Marie cringed and turned away from the needles.

“So how many scans did you take from Adam,” she asked as she took a deep breath just as the needle broke her skin. “An’ how many tubes are ya fillin’?”

“Two tubes, you’ve lost enough blood already. I’ll be taking about four to six scans of your brain. The excessive bleeding could be caused by swelling as well as headaches,” Hank calmly responded. “There,” he placed a cotton ball and a band aid on the small puncture wound. She looked down at the band aid and hoped of the table. She grabbed a tissue from the box and ran it over her nose.

“Alright, we’re good ‘ta go. Ah ain’t bleedin’ no more.” Hank took her bare elbow with in his gloved hand and led her to the adjoining room where the CAT scan was set. She sat down and then lay down on her back as the conveyer belt rolled her in. She looked at the bright orange lights above her head, they met at the center of her head; one running vertically the other horizontally.

“Ok,” she sighed wiggling her socked feet. “What’s takin’ so long? Ah got see mah kid,” she said impatiently.

“A few scans of your brain from four angles,” Hank called over the speaker. “Oh and Logan mentioned an injury on your side. That’ll be a quick x-ray, dear.”

“Damn it, Logan! Ah’m hopping off this damned slab if ya don’t put a sock in it,” I called from inside the scan. A few seconds later I can hear his gruff voice saying, “Save it, kid.”

“Alright, Rogue. I’m rolling you out. We’ll wait for the scans to show up on the screen so I can take a close look at them. All the results should be ready tomorrow morning. Logan will be stepping out so I can get an x-ray of our chest cavity.”

Marie sat up and waited for Hank to come and get her. She was slightly dazed and her head had started throbbing again. A few minutes later Hank walked through the door, shaking his head.

“What,” I questioned. “Somethin’ wrong?” I asked as he helped me off the scan, once more taking me by the elbow.

“I was having trouble getting Logan to wait outside Medbay, but he’ll be alright. As will you dear,” he smiled as he led me back. I took a deep breath preparing myself for the pain for when he helped me up onto the table.

“Is there any other way ya can tell if Ah have a lesion,” I asked as I looked at the door. Logan was outside on the other side pacing back and forth mumbling something to himself. “Maybe feel around with yer fingers ‘er something…ah don’t really need the Logan in mah head or Erik to stir up unnecessary trouble. Ah’ve had enough scares to last me the whole week.

He sighed. “Alright. Lay back down,” he ordered.

“Ya can come back in suga’,” I called to Logan. A few seconds later and he was walking through the door running a hand through his unruly hair. “Ah’m avoidin’ the x-rays,” I said as I carefully laid back down. I could feel Hank lift the tank top all the way to where my bra started; his large gloved fingers feeling gently over the bruise.

“So,” Logan growled. “Anything broke? Fractured? Punctured lung ‘er something,” he asked impatiently as he looked around Hank’s large frame.

“Hmm,” Hank pressed down on the spot just under the last rib. I bit my bottom lip to keep from flinching or grimacing unsuccessfully. “Fractured,” he added. “The last two ribs appear to have been pushed outward,” Hank turned his back to us to get a large bandage from one of the metal drawers. “Why don’t you take a shower and come find me once you’ve finished. I’m sure you’ll want to clean up before you go find Adam and get a few hours of sleep before you meet with the Professor tomorrow.” I nodded my head as I used my elbows to gently push myself up to a sitting position.

Logan took the large bandage from Hank and tucked it under his back pocket before one of his arms went around my back and the other under my legs. He easily lifted me off and turned to Hank. “I assume meanwhile she’s gotta take it easy,” he lifted his brows. Hank chuckled whole-heartedly and grabbed my clothed from his chair where Logan had set them and gently placed them on my lap.

“What he said,” he walked us to the doors. “If you have any more nosebleeds tonight, dear, you know where to find me. I’ll be taking a look at those scans and we should know tomorrow morning after you meet with the Professor. We’ll see about limiting your activities based on your health.”

“Damn it, Logan,” I turned to look at him. “Thought Ah told ya to put a sock in it,” I whined as he carried me down the hall towards the elevator.

West Wing
3:21 am

“Are ya just gonna stand there or are ya gonna come in,” she asked him without as much as turning around to look at him. She was in pain, she was hungry, and she needed to shower. Was that too much to ask, she thought to herself as she went straight to her closet, throwing both doors open and tossing in her boots. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Logan was still hovering at the door, his hands in his pockets deciding on what to do. He responded with nothing more than a low grunt, closing the door behind him as he scanned the room for a place to sit, probably anywhere as long as he didn’t have to sit on her bed. Why was that even a problem, she continued to think to herself. She’d sat on his bed countless of times before she left.

“Ah’ll try to be fast,” she warned him as she slipped into the bathroom, tossing her day’s clothes in the bamboo hamper. She came back out, a pale hand holding her ribs as she went to the dresser, fumbling through several doors as she pulled out black lace, a gray sports bra and gray pajama pants. As she slipped back into the bathroom, she called over her shoulder, “The remote control is on the nightstand, you can sit on the armchair, the ottoman is somewhere near the balcony,” she closed the bathroom door with more force than she intended using.

She closed the toilet seat, setting her clean clothes in the seat before turning to stare at herself in the mirror. Dark circles had begun to form under her eyes, not dare enough for many to noticed but dark enough for Logan to notice. Nothing went unnoticed by him, ever. She ran the back of her hand under her nose as she pulled aside the clear shower curtain, making sure the bleeding had ceased. She pulled the tank top over her head as smoothly and as gently as she could, slowly breathing in and out to keep from whimpering. She had less trouble slipping out of the green scrubs and underwear; quickly tossing them into the hamper before she turned back to open the shower spray.

She stepped under the cold shower spray; her arms wrapped around herself as she inclined her head forward, her eyes closed as she tried to relax. Logan was right. What if this, what this was, became a frequent thing…something she couldn’t control just like her skin? How was she going to look after Adam? Maybe she’d jumped at the idea too fast, she hadn’t thought about it. The Professor had been right too. She wasn’t ready, she was too young, and she wasn’t married. Hell, Jubes or Storm could do a better job. She shook her head in frustration, growling. When the hell did I become such a pessimist, she questioned herself.

“I’ll tell you when,” Carol answered. She screamed, her eyes quickly snapping open.

“Go away,” she cried.

“No,” the woman replied.

“Marie? Kid? Are you alright in there,” Logan banged on the door, quickly demand an answer. She turned to the door, nodding her head even if he couldn’t see her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she breathed. “Just washin’ mah hair,” she lied, hopping he’d believe her.

“Are you sure,” Logan and Carol’s voice echoed together in her head.

”Face it, Rogue,” Carol taunted her. “You aren’t alright in here,” she tapped the side of her head. “You’re losing it, and you’re losing it fast. Do you still think the poor Professor can save you? You aren’t Jean,” she told her. “And they don’t care about you.”

“Marie,” Logan growled from the other side of the door as he waited for her answer before bursting in.

“Yeah,” she replied again. By then silent tears had begun to escape the corner of her eyes, blending themselves with the pouring shower above her head. By the time she finished showering and getting dressed, her eyes were puffy and she was shuddering.

She opened the bathroom door, going straight for the dresser to brush her hair when Logan stopped right in front of her, blocking her path as he looked down at her. A deep frown marring his manly and careless expression.

“What the hell happened in there,” he asked her. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to get past him but he continued to block her. Without any other option she looked up at him and sighed.

“Carol happened. Now can Ah brush mah hair,” she sassed him. “Er do ya wanna do it fer meh,” she arched a brow, one hand on her hip.

“Smartass,” he mumbled as he moved to the balcony to light the cigar he kept in his shirt pocket.

“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled too as she brushed her hair, parting it down the middle before quickly braiding it. “Hey Logan,” she called to him.

“Ya were right,” she sighed again before turning to look at him. “Ah can’t look after Adam. Not when Ah can’t control this, she looked away ashamed of herself. “Ah…Ah don’t wanna see him get hurt because of meh.”

Logan’s large frame stiffened for a moment before he turned to look at her, chewing one end of the cigar, before pointing it in her direction. “Yer gonna give up that easily,” he arched a brow. “Yer not even gonna try?”

“Try," she snorted. Is this what ya think this is ‘bout,” she frowned. “Giving up,” she crossed her arms under her breast. “Ya think Ah don’t care ‘bout the boy? Yer wrong,” she said stubbornly as she spun back to the mirror, trying to hide her anger.

“Then what is it, kid? Make up you’re damned mind,” he growled, lighting the cigar.

“Ya don’t understand,” she turned to him, growling. “This isn’t ‘bout what Ah want. This is ‘bout helping him. Ah’m already screwed, Logan. That kid still has a chance. If he needs a mother Jubilation or Kitteh or Storm can take of that. I’m sure the Professor knows of a good family willing to adopt him.” He walked back to her, the cigar in one hand as he looked down at her.

“And then what are you gonna do,” he asked her. “I hardly think the Professor is just gonna let you join the team. You’re in no condition, mentally or physically,” he told her straight up. She frowned again, leaning back against the dresser.

“Well, if ya have it all figured out, why don’t ya enlighten meh suga’?”

“We’ll talk to the Professor, we’ll tell him about the woman,” he told her. “He can help you. I’ll help you look after the kid. I’ll stick to ya like the damned Adamantium sticks to my bones,” he offered as he stuck the cigar between his teeth.

“Ah’m not gonna ask ya to promise,” She walked away, “because we both know you don’t exactly keep yer promises,” she taunted him. “But Ah will talk to the Professor at a decent hour this morning,” she turned back to him.

“Shut up and com’ere, kid,” he gestured toward me, as he pulled out the large bandage from his back pocket. Not knowing what to do with the cigar, he put it out in the palm of his hand.

“Logan,” she protested. “Damn it, do ya gotta do that every time ya forget an ash tray,” she walked into the bathroom, and came back holding a clear glass ashtray. “Here, an’ stop doin’ that ya masochist,” she handed it to him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind while I look for you next time you disappear on me.”

He took a closer step toward her, unrolling the thick ace bandage before she screamed, “Wait,” she jumped back. “Aren’t ya gonna wear gloves ‘er something,” she asked him.

“Jesus kid, I’m not gonna touch ya. I’m just gonna wrap this around you,” he told. “And I’m pretty much immune to your mutation, so quite complainin’ and com’ere,” he placed a hand on the small of her back, bring her closer to him as he leaned down to wrap the bandage as quickly as possible. With a small squeal she placed her bare hands on his shoulders to keep herself from bumping into him.

“Ah’ll…Ah’ll remind ya of that next time ya pass out meh ya chuckle-head,” she held her breath as he began to wrap the bandage. “When yer ‘bout done just tug on it and tight it. Ah don’t want it getting lose, Ah’ve gotta busy day ahead,” he looked down at him. He’d placed a hand behind her back again fastening the end of the bandage with one last tug before securing it with a metal fastener.

“That tight enough fer ya,” he arched a brow, before pulling back to look at his handy work. “Turn around,” he instructed, twirling his index finger in the air, urging me to do as he ask. With a sigh, she complied. She slowly turned around in an 360 degree turn before she placed her hands on her hips, frowning.

“Satisfied?”

“No,” he took a step toward her, sticking his fingers between the first layer of the bandage and her skin, unfastening it a bit, just enough so it wouldn’t bother her.

“Now,” she frowned. He nodded his head and turned to look at the clock hanging on the wall behind her.

“You should get some breakfast,” he walked around her and retrieved her green slippers from beside her bed. “Put these on,” he set them down on the floor in front of her, before heading for the door. She quickly wiggled her feet into the slippers and grabbed a clean pair of gloves green gloves from the drawer in her nightstand and a grey hoodie from the closet before she followed Logan to the door.

“Ah took that long, eh,” she curiously turned to look at the clock behind her, noticing it was almost five in the morning.

Outside the Professor’s Office
7:58 a.m.

Rogue was leaning back against the wall, her hands stuffed into her pockets as she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep herself in check.

“Two more freakin’ minutes,” she mumbled to herself as she stared at the clock across from her. Patience had never been one of her virtues, especially not after she absorbed Logan. Erik on the other hand, had the patience of a saint, and all she could do was hope that one day she’d be half as patient as he was.

“Come on,” she whined. “Come on,” she continued to mumble as if by urging the clock time could move faster. If only, she sighed. She looked around the empty hall, impatiently tapping her foot against the marble floor, still biting the inside of her cheek. If she didn’t do this now, she wasn’t doing it later or tomorrow; she just wasn’t doing it. Ever.

“Rogue,” Scott’s voice rang out towards her.

“Oh, hey Mr. Sum—“Scott, remember,” he arched a brow as he smiled at her.

“Right, Scott,” she corrected herself, smiling at him. “How‘re ya,” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he smiled. “How about you, I heard you had an accident,” he arched a brow again.

“Yeah,” she looked down at herself. “Nothing too bad,” she looked back to him. “Ah should be better soon, just a couple fractured ribs, that’s all,” she assured him.

“Did Hank take a look,” he took a step closer to her, concern more than evident in the way he reached for her.

“Ah’m fine, really,” she assured him. “Ah’m sure Ah’ll be joinin’ ya guys on missions very soon,” she smiled.

“About that,” Scott tilted his head to the side. “You’ll have to talk to Professor about that. I lead one team, Logan leads the other,” he grinned.

“Oh,” she replied. “Oh alright,” she tried to smile. There was in way in hell Logan was letting her join his, so Scott was her only option and she had no intention of burning that bridge just yet.

“Waiting on the Professor,” he asked her.

“Yeah, Ah needa talk to him ‘about mah duties here. Ah’m onto used to just sitting around. Ah gotta keep busy. Idle hands are the devil’s play things,” she joked. Scott burst out laughing, rounding the corner were Logan and the Professor, intently discussing something telepathically by the looks Logan was giving the Professor.

“If only looks could kill,” she shook her head. Scott continued to laugh, probably thinking the comment was directed at him.

“I’ll see later, Rouge. Feel better,” he walked away chuckling.

“What the hell was that,” demanded a confused Logan as he came to stand in front of her, hands on his hips as he glared at the Professor.

“A joke,” she retorted. “Now scatter. Ah gotta talk to the Professor without ya listenin’ through walls an’ doors an’ stuff,” she frowned.

“He has a class, Rouge,” the Professor chuckled lightly as he sat behind his desk. Logan growled quietly and headed for the door, mumbling, “Damn you Chuck.”

“No manners,” Rogue shook her head. “Sorry ‘bout that Professor. Logan likes to listen to private conversations. It’s a bad habit of his,” she tried to whisper but failed miserably as she began to laugh.

“Ah can hear ya, kid,” he growled just as he closed the door. The Professor chuckled again.

“Take a seat, Rogue. How can I help you this morning? Are you feeling better,” he asked her genuinely interested. “Hank tells me the results should be ready later today

“Yes,” she sat down in one of the chairs positioned in front his desk, holding her side as she leaned back onto the chair, grunting. “Ah’m much better, thank you. Ah wanted to talk to ya, ‘bout everything. Full access pass; no secrets,” she looked at him. “Ah just gotta get it all out there, ya know. Ah need to start fresh if Ah’m gonna help Adam… and that means no holdin’ back,” she warned him.

“Alright,” he urged her. “I’m all ears, Rogue.” With a slowly released sigh, she rose from the chair and paced to the back of the room, mumbling over her shoulder that she couldn’t sit still for too long.

“But ya needa understand Ah’m not the same teenager that first came here…Ah haven’t been Logan’s Marie in a real long time,” she said in her thick southern drawl.

“Ah need yer help,” she whispered to him, her eyes tightly closed. “Ah did something…something bad…so bad…” she shook her head. “If the team ever found out…” she trailed off. “If Logan found out,” she held her breath. “He wouldn’t want meh. None of them would.”

“What did you do, Rogue,” the Professor asked. “What’s that so bad not even Logan would forgive you for?”

“Ah killed someone,” she opened her eyes and turned to the Professor. A speck of blue quickly moving across her eyes, that for a moment the Professor almost misses it. He leans against his desk, folding his hands over the desk as he looks at her. “Ah killed a woman. Ah killed Carol Danvers,” she confessed.

“Tell me when did this happen,” he asked her, frowning. Rogue turned around again, giving him her back. “A couple of months ago, while Ah was away. Ah over heard Mystique called meh, saying a friend had told her that a woman was looking for meh. She kept saying that Ah should be careful…and then Ah heard someone saying that Carol was gonna kill meh…” she trailed off, waving into the air a gloved hand as if the event hadn’t carried much significance.

“The thought that maybe Mystique was setting meh up never crossed mah mind…” she leaned against the wall, gazing out the window, her arms now crossed under her breasts. “Ah thought Ah was taking the battle to the woman,” she whispered.

“And then what happened,” the Professor leaned back against his chair, listening intently to the troubled woman’s story, all the while thinking to himself how was he going to tell her.

“Ah then Ah tracked her to San Francisco…” she shook her head, her shoulders tensing. “She thought Ah was lookin’ fer her... She kept saying something ‘bout killing me ‘fore Ah killed her,” she spun back to the Professor, the speck of blue returning to her eyes for a longer moment, before disappearing again.

“When Ah tried to use mah power-absorbing abilities on her, something happened,” she panicked for a moment. “Ah absorbed too much of her…”

“Rogue,” the Professor gently called her. She titled her head to the side, her white streaks framing either side of her face. “And then what happened? Where is this Carol Danvers,” he asked her; trying to figure out if she knew the rest.

“Ah threw her body off the Golden Gate Bridge,” she simply replied, her eyes searching his expression for anything that could give away his thoughts. Anything that would sever as a sign that she was still welcomed here, that she could find redemption even after all she’d done.

“Rogue,” the Professor gently called her name, trying to get her to stop.

“Do you know what Ah left,” she straightened herself out and turned back to gazing out the window.

“No,” he shook his head. “I believe I don’t. Why did you leave, Rogue?”

“For a lot of reasons,” she sighed, crossing her arms under her breast again. “Ah haven’t forgotten about…Ah could’ve Jean,” she turned back to him, tears welling her eyes. “Ah shouldn’t have tried to fly the jet,” she shook her head, pacing in front of the window one hand holding her side. “She wouldn’t have needed to save us,” she shook her head furiously. “Ah should’ve absorbed her,” she turned her eyes to the Professor, her expression cold and hard as the tears continued to silently flow from her eyes.

“It was an accident, child,” the Professor rose from his seat. His voice was gentle, trying to get her to calm down. “The dam was breaking; you had to move the jet. If you hadn’t you wouldn’t have saved any of the others. You know that.”

“No,” she cried. “Ya don’t understand. Ah shouldn’t have taken the cure, Ah could’ve saved her…” she continued to cry. “Logan is never going to forgive me…never,” she shook her head, still pacing back and forth the space between the chairs and the door. “How am Ah supposed to look at him,” she turned her eyes to the Professor. “How can Ah look at ya an’ Scott? Ah should’ve saved her fer him,” she wept.

“Rogue, there was nothing you could do,” the Professor tried to calm her again. He was trying to access her mind but he’d continuously been blocked for the last few moments, and that was only something he’d encountered with Logan because of the Adamantium. Rogue, it seemed, was a true exception.

“Ya don’t know what its like,” she took a step towards him, her hands painfully gripping the chairs; the strain quite visible through her gloves. “The guilt…” she trailed off again. “It’s killing me…don’t you see it,” she asked him.

“That’s why Ah left. Ah couldn’t face Logan, Ah didn’t want to see him mourning her death,” she wiped her tears away with the back of her gloves. “Ah refused.”

“What about Bobby,” he asked. “What about your friends here?”

“Bobby was sleeping with Kitty much before Ah took the cure; Ah wasn’t going to put up with that,” she told him. “And Jubilee,” she told him. “She wouldn’t…she couldn’t understand.”

“Rogue, why didn’t you ever come to me for help,” the Professor asked. “Ah would’ve done whatever I could. You know that. I’ve helped Storm, Logan, Jea—“But Ah wasn’t Jean,” she growled at him. “If ya wanted to help meh, ya could’ve done it from the start. Things didn’t have to end the way they did. You could’ve prevented this from the start,” she spun around again, walking back to the window.

“You and your God-damned-complex,” she all but whispered no trace of her southern drawl in her voice. “You have no idea what it’s like trying to adjust to all the voices in your head…you don’t need to because you just shut them out. And what the hell can I do about it,” she turned to him, her eyes narrowed.

“I have to live with it. With this poisonous skin…,” she looked down at herself disgusted. “With Logan loving Jean, with Carol using Jean to drive me insane, with Erik trying to persuade me to give in,” she chuckled humorlessly. “And you know what,” she took a step back to him. “I just might do that…after all… it’s not like you ever really tried to help me. You just thought it’d be convenient to keep me on your side.”

“Rogue, you know that’s not true,” he protested. “You’re just saying that because you’re upset, you’ve lost hope—

“Hope,” she arched a brow. “In what exactly? You? Logan?” She waited for a moment before adding, “Logan can hardly stick around for a few months, you really trust him stick around and look after us,” she arched a brow again, referring to herself and Marie this time.

“No,” she shook her head. “Ah’ll take my chances alone,” she turned to the door. “Ya were right ‘bout Adam. Ah in no condition to look after him. Not while the Carol in mah head is trying to kill meh or drive meh insane,” she stared at the door for a moment before stepping out of the Professor’s office.

9:41 am

Marie exited the Professor’s office, breathing heavily as tears continued to stream down her cheeks. She knew she and Rogue had gone too far by blaming the Professor but that was how she saw things, how she felt and Carol made sure to use those things against her every time she had the chance. It was one of the reasons of why she thought she should just give up on adopting Adam.

And yes, she was mad, she was beyond furious. She couldn’t easily forget that they’d failed her. They should’ve seen the signs. Most importantly, Logan should have seen them. This was the reason she’d changed. The same reason she’d easily gone to the other side. Hope meant nothing to her now.

And if she blamed Logan, it was because he’d promised to look out her. She hadn’t asked that of him…why did he have to save her then…why had he even picked her up in the first place…what could she possibly offer him that anyone else couldn’t?

Growling and shaking her head furiously, she headed for the main door, slamming it close behind her back. She needed some time to herself, at least before the Professor had any time to think about what she’d said or before he ratted her out to Logan. Wearing nothing more but slippers and flimsy pajamas, she broke into an awkward run toward the surrounding woods. Holding her side as if she could contain the pain from spreading further and breathing deeply in and out through her nose she promised herself that she would forget Logan …at any and all costs.


I hear... a voice say "Don't be so blind"...
it's telling me all these things...
that you would probably hide...
am I... your one and only desire...
am I the reason you breathe...
or am I the reason you cry...

Always... always... always... always... always... always... always...
I just can't live without you...

I love you...
I hate you...
I can't get around you...
I breathe you...
I taste you...
I can't live without you...
I just can't take any more...
this life of solitude...
I guess that I’m out the door...
and now I’m done with you...

I feel... like you don't want me around...
I guess I’ll pack all my things...
I guess I’ll see you around...
Its all... been bottled up until now...
as I walk out your door...
all I hear is the sound...

Always... always... always... always... always... always... always...
I just can't live without you...

I love you...
I hate you...
I can't get around you...
I breathe you...
I taste you...
I can't live without you...
I just can't take any more...
this life of solitude...
I guess that I’m out the door...
and now I’m done with you...

I love you...
I hate you...
I can't live without you...

I left my head around your heart...
Why would you tear my world apart...

Always... always... always... always...

I see... the blood all over your hands...
does it make you feel... more like a man...
was it all... just a part of your plan...
the pistol's shakin' in my hands...
and all I hear is the sound...

I love you...
I hate you...
I can't live without you...
I breathe you...
I taste you...
I can't live without you...
I just can't take any more...
this life of solitude...
I guess that I’m out the door...
and now I’m done with you...

I love you...
I hate you...
I can't live without you...

I love you...
I hate you...
I can't live without you...
I just can't take any more...
this life of solitude...
I pick myself off the floor...
and now I’m done with you...
Always...
Always...
Always...

Dining Hall
Noon

“Hey kid, mind if Ah sit with ya,” Marie arched her brow, waiting for the eight year olds’ reply. Adam nodded his head and looked at Marie, his brows pulled together into a frown.

“What,” she asked.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, reaching for his milk before turning his eyes back to the woman in front of him. It didn’t take a touch for the child to figure out the woman had changed since the last time they’d spoken. Noting his hesitation, Marie sighed and leaned forward, her gloved hands placed neatly on the table, her fingers laced.

“Ah’m sorry we haven’t spoken,” she began. “Ah’m not exactly reliable,” she looked around the room, trying to think of another word but it was true and it was appropriate. She wasn’t reliable in any sense of the word.

“What do you mean,” he continued to frown, his little hands pushing his tray away. He hadn’t eaten much except for a cookie and his milk, his lunch was still untouched. She looked around the room again, her eyes meeting Logan’s for a brief moment. Growling quietly, she turned her attention back to Adam and reached for his tray before she rose to her feet.

“Why don’t we talk ‘bout this somewhere else,” she asked him. “Come on, Ah’ll be ya lunch in the city.” The young child followed Marie, who quickly disposed of the child’s tray and took his gloved hand in her’s, leading him out of the dining room.

“Rogue,” the Professor’s calm voice rang through her head. She stopped and calmly turned to look at the man sitting across the room with Hank and Storm.

“Yes Professor,” she replied, voice equally calm and controlled.

Adam looked up at Marie, following her gaze across the room before whispering, “Is he gonna let us go?” Marie looked down at the boy, leaning down to his level, smiling reassuringly. “Why don’t ya go change outta yer uniform an’ grab a jacket fer yerself,” she asked him. The boy nodded his head and ran out of the room before Marie could even tell him not to run.

Straightening herself out, she turned her attention back to her Professor asking, “Is there a problem?”

“No, of course not. I was just wondering why Logan couldn’t accompany the both of you. A young girl and child alone in the city is a major target for trouble,” he gently explained. Rolling her eyes and sighing in indignation she turned to glare at Logan, who was casually twirling a set of keys in one hand, his lunch already disposed off.

“This isn’t an option, is it,” she asked, arching a brow.

“No,” Logan’s and the Professor’s voice both echoed through the room, replying to her question.

“Ready,” Adam’s voice rang out excitedly behind her as he came to a halt, his gloved hand seeking her’s as he looked up at her. “Can we go,” he asked.

Marie looked down at her son, smiling at him as she took in his eager sight. He’d changed into jean, a blue button down shirt with a white t-shirt underneath, and sneakers; in his other hand he held a green jacket. Unable to contain some joy herself, she chuckled quietly before replying, “Eh, the Professor assigned meh a babysitter.”

Adam’s eyes searched the dining room, leaning forward from his place beside his mother to find such babysitter, his little brows pulled into a frown as he thought. “Who,” he asked Marie.

“Me,” Logan replied, with a small smile as he looked down at the child, probably noticing his sense of fashion just like Marie had.

“Remind ya of someone,” she asked Logan as she urged the child out of the room.

“Oh yeah,” he said casually.

Back at the table with the Professor, Hank couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of the child and Marie. If she weren’t so young, he could almost swear she was the child’s biological mother. As to their chaperon, well, let’s just say it was a close tie between Scott and Logan, although he was leaning more towards Logan, after all, the boy was already showing signs that he and Logan’ sense of fashion were exact if not for the sneakers.

“Hmm,” Hank said to himself as he took a long sip of his icy-cold water. Maybe he could do something about those darned tennis shoes, he grinned.

Gino’s Pizza
New York
2:07 pm

“Can we get ice cream now,” Adam shifted his position beside Rogue so he could get a better look at her. Rogue turned to Logan for the answer, just as he took a large bite of last pizzas slice, stuffing his mouth. Adam followed Rogue’s gaze and broke into a fit of giggles.

“What do ya think, Logan,” Rogue grinned as she carefully wrapped an arm around Adam to keep him settled. “Got any room left for ice cream,” she smiled leaning forward over the table to peel a pepperoni off the pizza slice in his hand. He growled and slapped her hand away, causing the child to laugh again as Rogue frowned.

“Ah’m guessing the big bad Wolverine can’t share,” she teased him, before eating the pepperoni. He set the pizza on his plate, wiping his hands clean on one of the napkins Adam had given him earlier when Rogue spilled her soda over the table.

“Even after all you ate,” Logan arched a questioning brow at the child, who eagerly waited for his answer. Adam nodded his head and slipped his gloves back on. Both Logan and Rogue had had a difficult time trying to get the child to eat without his gloves, it was the same reason Adam had ended up sitting with Rogue rather than with Logan.

“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly turning to look at Rogue. “Chocolate is my favorite,” he added. Marie chuckled and looked down at Adam.

“It’s mine too,” she turned to Logan, leaning back on her seat in the booth. “Ah think Ah saw a place just ‘round the corner,” she suggested. Logan quickly noted that ice cream was just another thing the kid had in common with Marie.

“Fine,” he growled at the two. “Clearly I’m out numbered,” he calmly pointed out.

“That’s a first,” Marie teased him. “Ah never thought Ah’d live the day to hear ya admit such a thing, darlin’,” she smirked, clearly pleased. “Guess it’s gonna be like this from now on, especially if ya keep insisting to tag along,” she arched a brow, hopping to throw him off his protector-game.

“Don’t mind,” he all but growled. “Think it’s gonna be like this from now on.”

Much to Marie’s surprise she titled her head to the side trying to ready the man across from her. The Wolverine in her head kept mumbling about something but she was too distracted to pay any attention to him now. That could wait till later, she needed to have a long discussion with the residents in her head about her feelings and her new son. She was gonna need them soon, especially if they were gonna get rid of Carol once and for all…before someone got hurt.

“Kid,” Logan leaned across the seat, carefully reaching for her just as she snapped back into reality. Smiling shyly she looked down to Adam and back at Logan, brushing her long streaked hair behind her ear.

“Sorry,” she tapped her head, signaling to Logan that she’d been talking to someone in her head. “Just wonderin’ what time Adam needed to be back. Don’t want One-eye getting on my ass—Ah mean case for being late,” she sipped her soda.

“Alright,” Logan turned to Adam. “Get ready, I’ll go pay the check,” he rose to his feet, eyeing Rogue carefully as she too slipped out of the booth to help Adam put on his jacket.

“Ah’m alright,” she told him casually. “We’ll talk about this later,” she mumbled under her breath just loud enough so he could hear her. “Promise.” Logan nodded his head and headed for the cash register as she sipped the child’s jacket.

“We’re getting ice cream, right,” Adam lifted his brows, a lose imitation of Logan’s intimidating look. Marie chuckled, grabbing the light blazer she’d brought along for the night.

“Yeah,” she replied, picking up her hair in a loose ponytail with a dark band she kept around her wrist. She then slipped her hands into her gloves and helped Adam out of the booth.

“So you and Logan, huh,” the child casually looked around the restaurant, his hand searching for Marie’s but refusing to look at her as he spoke. “He’s okay at the dad-thing,” he looked at the people walking outside on the street before he quickly stole a glimpse of her through the corner of his eyes. She laughed, leaning down to Adam’s level.

“Ya like him,” she asked him, calmly. “Mr. Summer’s is nice too,” she added casually, merely a suggestion, but Adam meet her eyes, slightly shaking his head.

“Logan looks after you, in a special way,” he reminded her. “It’s different with Mr. Summers, he’s always like that with everyone,” he added as he turned to look at the approaching Logan. “That’s why he’s the Fearless Leader, remember?

“Ready to go,” he looked down at them, before helping Marie to her feet.

“See,” Adam said cheerfully as he headed to the door, leaving behind a confused looking Marie and a suspicious Logan.



4:00 p.m.
On their way back

“Oh,” Adam groaned from the backseat. “I’m stuffed,” he fidgeted with his seatbelt. Logan looked at him through the rearview mirror, chuckling and shaking his head as he continued to drive. Marie twisted in her seat and turned to look at Adam, concerned.

“Jesus darlin’,” she laughed. “Told ya not to eat so much,” she shook her head. Adam laughed and leaned his head against the window.

“You aren’t so scary,” Adam said lazily.

“What,” Logan chuckled as he looked at Marie, she laughed.

“Who ya talkin’ ‘bout, honey,” she asked the boy.

“Both of you,” he replied tiredly. “Kids at school say if I belong with a family, it may as well include you two,” he laughed, both Marie and Logan obviously missing something.

“Yeah,” Marie asked. “How so?”

“Well,” he began, stealing a glance at Logan’s seat before he turned his attention back to darkening sky outside his window. “I can’t touch, just like you can’t,” she pointed out. “When I first got to the school some kids thought I might be related to you, because the similarities in our mutations,” she looked down at his hands.

“An’ why Logan darlin’,” she asked, looking down at her own gloved hands. She couldn’t help the anger that momentarily boiled her blood. How could children be so cruel, so devious? That was something she would never understand. Didn’t they know it was bad enough they knew they were freaks? Cursed and outcasts among their kind? Why did they have to point out the damn obvious all the damned time?

He shrugged. “Everyone’s scared a’ him,” he flinched. “Just like they are of us,” he continued. “Did the cure really help,” he turned to her. His eyes were full of pain, mirroring her own.

“No,” she shook her head and reached the small distance in the car to pat his leg, trying to bring some comfort to him. “Just gave me false hope,” she told him. “Broke me to little tiny pieces,” she confessed to them. Hearing this, Logan stole a quick glance of Marie, reaching over with one of his hands to pat her knee.

“Oh,” was all Adam seemed to say before he resumed his position, leaning his head against the window.

“An’ Adam,” she said over her shoulder.

“Yes,” he replied quietly.

“Ya belong with us, baby.”

To that Logan gave Marie’s leg a gentle squeeze, adding. “The hell ya do, kid.”



9:30 p.m.
Rec Room

“Eh…Logan,” Marie waited at the threshold for Logan’s response. Logan was intently watching a hockey game, like every Friday night. After walking Adam up to his room and tucking him in for the night, Marie had gone off to find Logan in hopes of thanking him for his support earlier that evening.

“Yeah, kid,” he half twisted around the couch to look at her, removing his feet from the coffee table in front of him. On one hand he was holding the remote control, on the other a warming beer.

“Uh, nothing,” she smiled, waving her hand almost as if to dismiss the thought or conversation as nothing. “Just wanted to thank ya for taggin’ along. Adam an’ Ah had a good time,” she spun around to leave with every intention of heading out to the library, before she heard the television flicker off and heavy footsteps trailing behind her.

“Hey kid, wait up,” Logan called after her. She stopped and spun around to look at him, clearly confused.

“Ya ok,” she asked him as she spun around to face him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Just wanted to tell ya, I heard what the kid said.”

“Oh,” she looked away. “It’s nothin’,” she tried to dismiss it. “Ya know kids, we’re fine. Ah’ll talk to him,” she spun around to leave again, but this time he caught her arm, stopping her.

“Ya thinking about asking One-Eye to be his dad,” he asked, frowning as he gently released his hold on her. Marie took a step back towards him, clearly frowning.

“Why would Ah do that,” she asked him.

“Just wondering, darlin’,” he said to her.

“Oh ok,” she spun around, trying not to reading too much into things. “Ah’ll talk to him, promise,” she said.

“Marie,” he called after her again.

“Yeah,” she spun around to face him.

“Ah don’t mind, kid,” he told her. “Let ‘em know if there’s anything Ah can do for the both of ya,” he told her just before she disappeared down the hall.



1:30 a.m.
Lower Levels;
Weight Room

Marie lay down on her back on the mats, out of breath, her heart beating furiously behind her chest as she stared fixatedly at the white ceiling, as if it held all the answers she’d been waiting for. She’d gathered her streaked hair in a quick braid, the loose strands matted to her sweaty neck. She felt she was burning up, even after she’d turned back on the air conditioner almost fifteen minutes ago.

She’d woken up some time past midnight after a nightmare that was neither Logan’s nor Erik’s. It was one that Carol had concocted to perfection all by herself, one that continued to bring back painful memories and that damned familiar guilt. It involved an angry Jean; the other monster she couldn’t face down.

She had aimlessly directed all her anger, her guilt at an inanimate object that had given into her feelings after just three hours of being worked over from all directions and angles. The Wolverine in her head had aided her in her release while Erik had stayed back and simply watched, throwing in a comment once in a while when the Wolverine wasn’t telling her to push hard and faster, telling her to use everything she had to massacre the bag.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about her outlet with the Professor. Suddenly her moral compass and her compassion, her gratitude had all gone to hell. She hadn’t once in the past few hours tried to apologize or further explain herself. She saw no need, he wanted her to talk and she’d done it.

But above all she couldn’t bring herself to forget his face, how it quickly had seemed to change from one emotion to the next. His expressions had all changed too fast, not once had she been able to point one damned feeling down. But his answers…they were a whole different thing. Every time she had imagined this meeting with the Professor, he made an effort to explain to her everything he could; he made an effort to help her even if said thing was not in his hands. But when the meeting had actually happened, there hadn’t been any consolation, no explanations whatsoever from his part. Absolutely nothing. He had just sat there and taken it like the pansy-ass she never pinned him for.