He stared up at the dingy white tiles of the drop ceiling above with gritty eyes. It would be so easy to allow his lids to drift closed, blocking out the sight he was all too familiar with after two years. With enemies on all sides, however, Logan considered that a sign of weakness. They talked over his body as if he didn’t exist or was already dead. He was close, closer than he ever remembered being before. Their plans had an unfortunately high chance of working based on what he knew about how his mutation worked.

“Are you sure that you want to remove his adamantium before the decapitation?” Her voice was cool, almost detached. None of the pleasure he was sure she felt at the thought of his death leaked into the blue bitch’s words.

A deep chuckle echoed to his left. “Of course, my dear. I suppose I could separate it after, but this one has given me so much trouble that I believe he deserves a little suffering prior to the mercy of his death. How could he appreciate it otherwise?”

Mystique, standing where Logan could just barely see her out of the corner of his eye, shrugged as if she didn’t care either way. “Do we do it here?” The question was casual, as if she was asking the location of a summer picnic or some routine meeting.

“No, I have prepared a special room to receive the adamantium at the correct temperature. There should be no danger in moving him now. His last ties to Charles are gone. Who will be looking for him now?”

A growl rose in Logan’s throat at that, unfortunately drawing their attention. Magneto moved closer and placed a gloved hand on his bare shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Wolverine. The delightful Rogue will no doubt feel remorse when we send Xavier the pieces of your body and she learns what your true fate was. I have that much compassion for you despite your refusal to willingly offer your services to my cause. Your Rogue will know in the end that you did not abandon her,” he said, tone dripping with mock sympathy.

The gag in his mouth, a near-constant presence in his life these last months except for meal times, prevented the curses Logan wanted to blast his captor with. All he could do was glare his rage into the other man’s cold gray eyes as he strained once again to break the metal bands holding him down. Eventually Magneto broke eye contact and gestured to Mystique.

“Shall we, my dear? I would like to get him to the black room as quickly as possible. I am eager to get started.”

---

Rogue was working out with Ororo and Jean in the Danger Room when the older red-headed woman drew up short in the middle of an attack. Recognizing the beginning of a telepathic conversation, Scott, who was monitoring the session from the control room above, paused the program. This left some robots hanging almost comically in the air. Rogue watched Jean’s blue eyes widen with what looked like surprise and pain, and she wondered what the Professor could be telling the other telepath. When Jean turned to look at Scott, obviously relaying Xavier’s message, Rogue’s curiosity grew. If this was about a mission, why weren’t they all receiving word as usual? Why all the secrecy?

Rogue’s uneasy suspicions were confirmed when Scott began pulling in their robotic enemies. Over the intercom connecting the Danger Room as well as the other workout rooms where the X-Men were performing their evening training he announced, “Everyone suit up and get to the Blackbird. Now!”

Since Rogue, Ororo, and Jean were already in uniform they headed straight for the hangar and the sleek black plane. As she waited in her seat, Rogue had plenty of time to wonder and worry about what was going on. Something about the air Jean was projecting kept her quiet, though, and ‘Ro must have felt the same because she also stayed silent in the co-pilot’s chair.

Rogue played with her short black leather gloves, pulling them off one finger at a time before slipping them back on over and over. The worn leather was warm against her skin, a familiar comfort in this strange situation. She kept her eyes on her hands even as the rest of the team piled in. The only time she looked up was when Kitty slid into the seat next to her. The two friends smiled tentatively at each other. They were still trying to come to terms with Jubilee’s death and how her loss, more or less, affected their relationship.

Finally Scott entered the plane, sliding the hatch closed behind him. He moved to the pilot’s seat without a word, and the entire team echoed that silence as they lifted off into a brilliant orange sunset. Rogue held her breath when he set the course and then gestured to ‘Ro to take the helm as he turned to the rest of them.

“The Professor was scanning for the Brotherhood with Cerebro,” Scott began, his voice rough. They all knew Xavier did that occasionally to keep an eye on the rival group. “He found them and…someone else. Because of this other presence he scanned Mystique deeply in order to get more details on the situation. He—“ Scott stopped, and Jean reached over from her seat behind his to catch his hand in hers. Rogue was startled by the look of sheer grief they shared.

Scott cleared his throat and continued. “The Professor learned that our target has been held by the Brotherhood for a little more than two years in an effort to get him to cooperate with a plan to assassinate the President and other heads of state. Mystique was one of his main captors, and her thoughts revealed that they very recently gave up the notion that the target could be convinced to help them. Magneto has decided to execute him because he is now a threat to the Brotherhood. They are preparing for that right now, in fact, which is why the Professor believes he can detect him once more. They have taken him out of whatever shielded area they were holding him in.” Scott stopped again.

Rogue spoke around an unexplained lump in her throat, voice husky. “Who is the target, Cyclops?” The formality of the codename seemed to help them both somehow.

Scott’s head turned toward her, and even though she couldn’t see his eyes, she knew they were as pitying as Jean’s, now also turned to look at her. Scott took a deep breath.

“Logan. They have the Wolverine.”

The lump tried to turn into a scream, a wail, and Rogue had to clamp her teeth and lips together tightly in order to keep it inside. She breathed in shakily through her nose and nodded to acknowledge that she understood what Scott had just revealed. They didn’t know. None of the ten people now looking at her sadly knew. It had only been two days since her last phone call with…Logan, and Rogue hadn’t exactly wanted to announce the break-up to anyone except Jubilee, who she couldn’t exactly keep it from.

Her best friends, sensing her pain, offered comfort as best they could. Kitty clutched her fingers tightly, while in Rogue’s head Jubilee’s love poured over her, a healing balm accompanied by the mental whisper, “Oh, Roguey, maybe I was wrong. I’m so sorry.” She barely had time to register that when Scott began speaking again above the whispers she now realized surrounded her.

“This is an extraction mission. You should know that Magneto will be attempting to remove the metal from Logan’s skeleton before he kills him. If we don’t make it in time then the Professor wants Logan out of there even if…even if Magneto succeeds in killing him. We are also to take any adamantium that Magneto manages to remove because Mystique believes that Magneto means to use it on another mutant, one currently unknown to us.” As Scott continued to outline the details of the mission his voice became more confident, as if doing so allowed him to distance himself from the horror they were about to face.

At the same time Rogue felt herself sinking further into misery. Logan might come back, but would it be to her? Had they made him call her all those times? Had it all been Mystique? If it was, what did she tell Logan? These questions and more circled in her head like vultures, obscuring the more terrifying idea that they would be too late. She wouldn’t, couldn’t let that thought take hold. They would get there in time, and they would save him. Rogue couldn’t allow anything else.

Logan attempted to ignore his captors as they moved his thick metal bed from the cell he had occupied for two years. He stared up at the ceiling once more, noting that it was constructed of the same dirty white tiles he had become so familiar with. He had decided a lot time ago that the Brotherhood had somehow acquired an old office building for their headquarters, based mostly on those tiles.

They moved through a short hallway and to an elevator. He had no idea if they were going up or down, but the old mechanism creaked and rocked slowly as it moved. Eventually they left the small elevator car to travel down a window-lined hallway. It was only then that he realized it was close to sunset. While Magneto and Mystique chatted amiably about his execution, Logan took the time to let his eyes drink in the bright orange, one of the first colors besides blue he had seen in years.

Finally they reached a large room which might once have been an office, if the faded marks he could make out in the worn brown carpet when he glanced down ere any indication. The room contained no windows, unlike the hallway, and several Brotherhood mutants lined the walls or kept busy in one corner, guarding a device Logan couldn’t quite see. They all turned to glare at him while simultaneously attempting to smile in a toadying fashion at their leader, something that would have made Logan snort with laughter in any other situation. He returned his gaze to the ceiling. His bed was brought to the middle of the room, and then he was left there while Magneto and Mystique moved to the overly-occupied corner of the room.

Time passed. He wasn’t sure how much, and he didn’t really give a damn. He should have known that his last minutes or hours on Earth would be spent strapped to a bed where he would be cut open and then chopped up for someone’s sick curiosity and pleasure. After all, his nightmares were haunted by medical experiments and pain, his bones coated by the results.

Magneto eventually came back to his side while an assistant rolled over a complicated structure that included a bright blue flame lit under a metal tub surrounded by tubes and wires. The smell of heated metal almost made him shudder. He controlled it just in time.

Magneto raised his hands and held them in the air just over Logan’s body. “What shall I begin with?” he mused to himself. “Let’s see…If I remove these fascinating claws of yours, I wonder if they will grow back.”

At that Logan felt his claws snap out on their own. Magneto lifted a sharp knife at the same time that another assistant to Logan’s right copied his movement.

“Adamantium is such a useful metal. It is a pity I have had access to so little until now,” Magneto commented before nodded to the mutant across from him. Together they brought the silver knives down.

White hot pain shot through Logan, and he cried out from the force of it. Thankfully the sound was muffled by his gag, and after a few seconds of sheer agony he was able to think again and stop the screams tearing through his throat. He glared at Magneto, breathing hard, as his tormentor levitated the six metal and bone claws he had just cut off. The gray eyes examined the claws as they rotated slowly in the air. The adamantium slowly peeled away from the bone, and with a gesture Magneto sent it floating over to the tub where it settled. Even as Logan’s hands continued to burn from the assault, the metal stripped from his claws began to bubble audibly. The scent filled the room, making him nauseous from half-remembered nightmares.

A commotion in the hall drew the attention of everyone in the room. Magneto frowned, and Logan felt the first stirring of hope he had experienced in who knew how long. He closed his eyes briefly in relief when the door was blasted open with familiar red fire. For once he was thankful to see One-Eye walk through the door. Cyclops was quickly followed by what seemed like an army in black leather.

Logan’s eyes immediately searched for a white streak in dark hair. At first he couldn’t find her, and he felt it like a blow to the gut. Maybe she really didn’t care anymore. Then he caught a flash of white even as she dropped to the ground beside Magneto and reached a bare hand to grab the older man by the neck. An unholy light glowed in her eyes as veins darkened under his leathery skin, showing that her mutation was active. Magneto tried to push her away with no effect. Only after his eyes rolled back in his head did Rogue shake him several times and then drop him to the ground.

Then she turned to Logan.

---

Rogue stumbled to her feet when the Blackbird landed on the roof of an old brick building. She was about to head out when she felt Kitty’s hand on her arm. Her friend was looking at Cyclops when she said, “Cyclops, Rogue and I are going to stay at the back. When we figure out where they’re holding him, I can get her in to take out Magneto.”

Cyclops looked at the two of them, eyebrows raised. He knew Rogue well enough to know that she really wanted to be in the front for this fight, so she wasn’t surprised when he asked, “Rogue?”

Reluctantly she nodded. “Ah’ll go with Shadowcat. It’s the best way to take that bastard out quickly before he gets a chance to hurt…anyone any more than he already has,” she agreed. She stood aside so that Cyclops, Jean, and Storm could pass by. Her team mates squeezed her shoulder as they passed, a silent show of support Rogue didn’t feel she deserved.

Finally it was just Kitty and Rogue on the plane. Her friend was about to head out when Rogue suddenly felt the need to confess. “Ah broke up with him,” she blurted out.

Kitty whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “What?!” she squeaked incredulously.

“He called the other day…or Ah thought he did. It was probably that bitch Mystique, but…it had been six months without a word, Kitty! Ah didn’t know what else to do! And Jubes was so angry with him…” Rogue trailed off, hanging her head.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Ah didn’t know how, and then…Ah don’t know. It almost felt like it didn’t matter anymore. Ah didn’t think we’d ever see him again if the last couple years were any indication of how much he cared.”

Kitty grabbed her dangerously bare arms and shook her silently. “Listen to me, Rogue! Jubilee never liked Wolverine much, but you love him! I know you do. We are going to go in there, beat the bastards trying to kill your man, and then you, my friend, are going to beg, plead, do whatever it takes once we’re home to convince him that you still want him. Got that?”

Kitty’s face and voice revealed her frustration with her friend as well as a fierce love Rogue had feared was gone. Impulsively Rogue hugged her tightly, let go, and nodded. “Ah got it. Let’s go get rid of some Brotherhood scum and get my man.”

Together the two women turned and left the plane. They ran to catch up with the rest of the X-Men who had already encountered and taken out a couple Brotherhood mutants. The group worked their way down two stories of the five-story building until they reached a heavily guarded interior room. Shadowcat pulled Rogue back when she would have joined that fight. Her friend pulled her into a nearby stairwell and up a floor. Rogue understood when they were standing in an open room just above the one below.

“I’m going to pop my head in once I hear Cyclops and the others break through, and then I’ll get you as close to Magneto as possible. Are you ready?” She was referring to Rogue’s mutation.

Rogue closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she pulled off first one glove, then the other. This was her ritual, what prepared her to drop her hard-won control so that she could use her mutation when she had to. It was the first time she had done this around another person since the accident, which made her nervous, but the control dropped just as easily as ever. She opened her eyes, tucked her gloves into her belt, and nodded. “Ah’m ready.”

She watched in fascination as Shadowcat slid to the floor, lying flat on her stomach to press her ear to the ground. Less than a minute later she let her head fall through the floor, something that always startled Rogue a little when she saw it despite years of being her friend and team mate. Then the shorter woman popped all the way back into the room and jumped up, her eyes shining.

“I know exactly where to put you. I think they’ve started removing the adamantium, but he’s alive,” Shadowcat exclaimed excitedly. She grabbed Rogue’s hand and pulled her to the center of the room. Rogue braced herself when Shadowcat gave her a short nod, and then she was falling through the ceiling to land in a crouch beside Magneto.

She barely had a chance to look at Logan before focusing on Magneto. She reached out her bare hand, saw with satisfaction the fear in his eyes as her skin touched him. He struggled, but her mutation was stronger and craved that contact of skin on skin. She gave in, fed it, as he drained into her. Suddenly she could feel the metal all around her even as he lost consciousness. She gave in to the savage urge to shake him a few times before she let him drop and turned to Logan.

It hurt to see him gagged, a scraggly beard covering his face and his body thinner than she wanted to see because it meant they’d barely kept him fed enough to let his mutation keep him alive. Without speaking, the first thing she did was pull her gloves back on and then rip the gag off of him. He choked trying to speak, so she laid a finger against his lips to hush him.

“Not right now, Logan. Let’s get you off this thing first, okay?” Rogue told him, turning her attention to the metal bands at his elbows and wrists. Within seconds she had used Magneto’s mutation to disintegrate the metal, the knowledge of how an effect her absorption of him. Next came the bands at Logan’s waist, knees, and ankles, and then he was truly free. Rogue straightened up just as Logan’s arm flashed out, strange white claws extended. A purple-haired mutant who had just snuck up was skewered through the neck, but Rogue had no complaints.

“Thanks,” was all she could say before looking at his claws in horror. “Did he…?”

“Yeah.” It was dry and rusty, but it was his voice, and Rogue wanted to cry at the sound. She held it together and looked around to find the tub with its thin layer of melted adamantium. She looked from it back to Logan.

“Do you want them back or not?” she asked. Rogue knew he would understand what she meant, and there wasn’t time for much else.

He didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

“Pop ‘em all for me, then. I don’t know how long this is going to last,” she said confidently even as a she lifted a hand toward the liquid metal. The battle with the Brotherhood raged around them as she guided the adamantium back to him, instructing it to flow around the exposed bone claws with a frown of concentration. She realized that it wasn’t quite right and knew what was needed. She looked up at him and said, “Ah’m sorry,” then she let the remaining metal coat three fingers on each hand and pushed her fingertips into the split skin where the claws began. Adamantium flowed into him and sealed with the metal still covering his knuckles. His only reaction was a low growl, but she knew it hurt.

“It’s not hot anymore. You can put ‘em back in,” she told him harshly, angry at herself for causing him more pain.

“Not a chance,” he said even as another mutant ran towards them, yellow eyes glittering with hatred when she saw them standing over Magneto, Wolverine whole again. Mystique wasn’t even trying to hide in someone else’s skin as she attacked.

Wolverine pushed Rogue aside to meet Mystique in a deadly dance that was fascinating to watch, but she was impatient to get this over with. As they grappled with one another she called two knives from the floor to her hand, ones that felt like the adamantium she had just given back to Wolverine. When Wolverine pinned Mystique to the floor, Rogue rushed in and slit her throat. As blood sprayed up at them, Wolverine looked up at Rogue in shock.

She frowned down at the dead woman. “Ah’m not gonna let her have another chance at any of us. Now let’s get out of here.” Looking for around for Cyclops she yelled, “Wolverine’s free. Time to go, Cyke!” When he nodded, knocked out his current opponent with a quick blast, and headed for the door, Rogue turned back to look at Magneto one more time. Her fingers twitched a little with the urge to finish him off as well, but the sound of Shadowcat shouting from the door about reinforcements stopped her. Instead, she shoved the knives carefully into her belt and reached for Logan’s hand. She pulled him, unresisting, behind her as she ran out of the room with the other X-Men. Two flights of stairs and they were on the roof again.

Rogue didn’t let go of Logan’s arm until an unseen force knocked her to the ground and she fell, dazed.

Logan didn’t know what he expected if he ever saw Rogue again, but the ass-kicking angel of death she appeared to have become wasn’t exactly it. Not that he was complaining that she had killed Mystique, even if it did put an end to his malicious fun sooner than he wanted. He understood the desire to get away from that place and so willingly followed her out. The adrenaline from the fight carried him up two flights of stairs to the roof of a building he could now see was in the middle of New York City. Before Logan could register anything else except the Blackbird waiting for them, Rogue was attacked.

Logan howled and lunged for her attacker, knocking the pale-haired young man to the side with claws extended. They viciously for a few moments but soon his opponent was on the ground, three holes in his stomach.

“That bitch killed my father!” the younger man screamed, still trying to reach Rogue.

Logan laughed cruelly. “Unless you father was actually a blue bitch, she didn’t. If you want to save him, and yourself, get the fuck out of here,” he said even as he picked up Rogue and ran for the plane. Another time he would have continued fighting, but there were more important things to worry about since Rogue hadn’t made any effort to get up on her own.

“Careful, dammit, Logan! My skin is still turned on!” she screamed at him, pain lacing her voice.

Logan placed her in the nearest seat and collapsed next to her as other X-Men rushed on board and Scott started the take-off sequence. “You should probably borrow my mutation anyway,” he told her tiredly.

Rogue stubbornly shook her head but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No. Ah think it’s just a broken ankle. Ah’ll be fine. You…you need your strength right now,” she whispered, letting her head fall back and her eyes close.

He watched with a frown as she seemed to fall asleep. He was about to reach for her and force her to take his mutation when she opened her eyes again and smiled warily. “There. Now my skin’s off so you can’t hurt yourself trying to heal me. Just rest, Logan,” she said gently, closing her eyes again.

Logan looked away to find that all of the X-Men, some familiar faces and others not, were staring at him. Most of them looked exhausted but happy, and all of them seemed relieved. To tell the truth he was, too. Now that the rush of the rescue was over, his brain was starting to kick in and all the questions he’d had for the past two years threatened to spill out, like why they hadn’t come for him before or why Rogue even cared about his survival when she’d moved on. He noticed a red-haired, red-eyed man staring hungrily at the dark-haired woman beside him and wondered if that was her new lover. The thought sent him into a rage he struggled to hide.
His fury was partially calmed when Rogue’s hand slipped back into his despite her closed eyes. “Ah’m so glad we got there before…” she tried to say, and he could tell now that she kept her eyes shut to hide the tears she didn’t want to shed in front of the others. He knew she hated to cry in public. At least that much hadn’t changed.

A brief feeling of relief flooded him. Maybe she still cared and he had a chance to win her back. He cradled her hand in his and lifted her fingertips to his lips. “Me too, darlin’. Me too.” She slowly leaned her head over until she was snuggled against his shoulder in the old comfortable way, and he tucked his chin against her soft hair, letting himself breathe in the scent of her. He could only smell her, no one else, again a relief and a balm to his battered heart.

Soon he could tell that she slept and so he let himself relax even as he glanced again at Red-Eye and smirked. No matter what those two might have, Logan was the one she turned to still. The younger man frowned and turned to stare out the windshield at the night sky.

In what seemed like no time to a man who had been locked in a single room for two years, the Blackbird arrived back at the X-Mansion. Logan waited until most of the X-Men were off the plane to nudge Rogue awake, but apparently she was in such a deep sleep that the only response she gave was a low moan. Logan’s attention was grabbed by Jean and Scott coming over to stand next to him.

“We need to get you to the medlab, Logan. I’d like to make sure that you’re okay,” Jean said softly, glancing with concern at Rogue.

Logan shook his head. “I’m fine, Jeanie, but Rogue here probably broke her ankle at the end of the fight. Just get me water and some real food, and I’ll help get her settled in the lab.” He grimaced when he said the word, but at least he knew Jean was one of the good ones, if there were any good doctors out there.

Jean frowned but nodded. “All right. See if you can wake her. I need to ask her about this latest absorption and see how she’s handling it after…well, I just need to talk to her. I’ll expect you in the medlab in a bit, okay? She probably has an hour or two before she’ll really need that ankle set if it’s broken, but you should get that water and food sooner,” she commented, obviously wanting to give the two of them some time alone to talk. Maybe Rogue hadn’t mentioned her last conversation with “him.”

“We’ll be there. She’s sleeping like the dead so it might take me a few minutes,” he said brusquely.

Jean slipped away leaving only Scott still there. Logan raised an eyebrow when he cleared his throat and said, “It’s good to have you back, Logan.” Then he practically ran to catch up with his wife.

“Scott really was upset when we learned what had happened to you,” Rogue said next to him, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Were you awake the whole time?” Logan asked, shaking his head.

“No, but Ah also don’t really sleep like the dead either. Ah don’t want to go to the medlab,” she told him, pouting a little in that just-woke-up way.

“You need to, darlin’, and that’s that,” he said, reaching over to run his fingers along her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. I missed you more than anything else, Marie.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she lifted her hand to press his fingers against her skin, her eyes closing again. “Ah thought Ah wasn’t ever going to see you again,” she replied, more pain and anguish than he’d expected in her voice.

“I would have come back sooner than this. You know that, right? It was all a game Mystique and Magneto decided to play to keep the X-Men from realizing that they had me. I would have come back for you.”

She nodded and opened her eyes before dropping her gaze to her lap. “Ah know. It’s just that it seemed like you were slipping away from me…Ah had no idea.” He could hear that she wanted to cry but wasn’t letting the tears fall.

“Is that why you found someone else?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out so abruptly, but he was gratified when her eyes flashed to his and he read the anger there.

“Ah lied, Logan. Ah still love you, always have and heaven help me probably always will. Ah just thought you didn’t care anymore!” she cried, her fingers bunching into a fist like she wanted to punch him for even suggesting it.

Logan smiled smugly. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go, darlin’, not for anyone. I spent two years thinking I would never see you again, and I’m not giving you up again.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You never lost me, you ass,” she told him, reaching over to grab him by the shoulders and pull herself into his lap. “You’re gonna have to get used to having me around, because from now on Ah’m not letting you out of my sight,” she whispered, running trembling fingers through his hair.

“Is that right?” he asked, pulling her closer.

“Yeah.” It was barely loud enough to be called a sound, but he heard it before her lips met his in a kiss he’d wanted ever since he saw her standing next to Magneto. She tasted like honey and his Marie, and he reveled in it even as he tried to memorize the feel of her soft lips against his. His hands slid into her hair, anchoring her to him as he slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue diving in to slide over hers tantalizingly. The smell of her arousal hit him hard, especially because he knew she needed to get to the medlab.

When they finally broke apart Rogue leaned her forehead against Logan’s and groaned. “Damn this ankle of mine,” she muttered.
“I was just thinking the same thing, darlin’. We should get that checked out,” he told her as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up effortlessly.

Rogue shook her head and sighed even as she looped her arms around his neck. “Only Ah could go on a mission to rescue you and then need you to carry me to the medlab,” she said sourly.

He laughed, the first laugh in a long, long time. “I think we’ll both be fine,” he said as he made his way off the plane. Just as he reached the bottom of the ramp he heard a familiar presence in his mind.

Logan, when Rogue is settled in the medlab I would like to welcome you home in person, the Professor told him. Logan just nodded, knowing the Professor would read the agreement in his mind.

Rogue fidgeted on the biobed as Jean looked over the X-rays of her ankle. Logan had left at least ten minutes ago to meet with the Professor, and she could just imagine what they were talking about. Well, what the Professor was probably talking about. “Sorry, Logan, but you know Rogue’s friend Jubilee, the one you were treating like a kid sister last time you were here? Rogue killed her. Have some tea? No? Brandy?”

 

Ugh. She wished that Jean would just hurry up already so that she could get upstairs and do damage control. Glaring at her white-clad back didn’t make her move any faster, so Rogue let out her breath in a huff and settled back on her elbow, transferring her glare to the offending ankle stretched out in front of her.

 

“Good news,” Jean finally turned around and smiled at her. “It looks like it was just a bad sprain. I don’t see any sign of a break or even hairline fractures. We’ll just get you bandaged up, and I’ll pull out one of the crutches for you to use for a few days.”

 

Rogue breathed out a sigh of relief and tried to smile back, although she knew hers was more strained than happy. Her thoughts were still mainly concerned with the conversation being held without her. She watched as Jean pulled out a roll of ace bandage, unzipped Rogue’s leather pants leg up to the knee, and began to wrap her ankle expertly.

 

“I’m so glad I suggested these modifications to the uniform,” Jean rambled as she worked. Rogue knew that was unusual for the doctor, who preferred to work in silence, and thought gratefully that maybe she was trying to distract her patient from obviously unsettling thoughts.

 

“It’s been a help after more than a few battles,” Rogue tried to keep up her side of the distraction, purposefully thinking of the hidden zippers along the arms and legs of her uniform. They didn’t add much bulk, but they made triage infinitely easier than it was when she first joined the X-Men.

 

Jean finished wrapping Rogue’s ankle with quick, expert hands, securing the end with two little metal butterfly clips. Rogue followed her instructions to try and roll her ankle around, which was almost impossible. That seemed to satisfy the doctor who then went to one of the hidden cabinets along the back wall of the medlab and pulled out a set of metal crutches. Rogue hopped off the bed onto her good foot and reached for them. They immediately realized that the crutches were too tall for her petite height, and Jean adjusted them while Rogue leaned against the biobed. Jean made her practice with the crutches by circuiting the room twice, and finally she admitted that Rogue was proficient enough to leave.

 

“Just watch out for the furniture, and try not to move too much for a couple days even with the crutches. Your body needs time to heal itself. I’ll bring you an icepack if you text me that you need one, okay?”

 

Rogue rolled her eyes and then smiled. “Yes, Mother,” she teased.

 

Jean lightly slapped her shoulder. “I’m serious, Rogue. You don’t want to damage yourself any more than you already are, right? After all, I think that you have a reunion to get to,” she taunted the younger woman.

 

Rogue felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “Bye, Jean. See you later!” she called, limping out as fast as her foot and crutches would take her. The doctor’s soft laughter followed her out but was thankfully cut off when the large metal doors closed behind her.

 

Maneuvering down the hallway was less challenging than the medlab had been, and Rogue made it to the elevator in what might have been record time for someone on crutches. She was both eager to see Logan again and anxious to see his reaction to what had happened with Jubilee. Would he hate her for their friend’s death? Would the Professor even tell him, or did he expect Rogue to? She wasn’t sure she could, but eventually he would ask someone where Jubilee was. Instinctively she knew that he would be horribly angry if he found out from someone other than her.

 

The elevator seemed to take forever to descend to the lower level. Finally the door slid open to allow her to slip inside. She let herself lean against the smooth wall for the short ride to the first floor. The hallway she stepped out into was empty, an amazing thing for late afternoon that she could only be thankful for as she made her way towards the Professor’s study. The crutches clumped loudly on the wooden floor, and she wished that there was a quieter way to do this. They made it impossible to move unobtrusively, although if she’d been thinking she would have realized how ridiculous it was to think that she would be able to sneak up on a telepath and a man with super hearing.

 

The door to the study opened as she approached, and Scott stuck his head out. He gestured for her to come in. Rogue approached the room slowly, apprehension growing with each step. She tried to slip past Scott, but the crutches made her unwieldy and she almost tripped instead as one caught on his foot. A large hand closed over her upper arm, and Rogue looked up to meet Logan’s concerned hazel eyes.

 

“It’s just a sprain,” she muttered, suddenly irritated by the pitying looks she was receiving from everyone in the room. She could feel them, a heavy weight on her mind that caused her eyes to return to the floor as she pulled away from Logan and limped over to one of the sofas where she lowered herself carefully, balancing on her good foot and a crutch. Ororo helpfully moved to help her set the crutches aside, but even that kind act wasn’t enough to force her eyes to meet those of the other X-Men.

 

She knew from that one glance at Logan what they had been talking about prior to her arrival. It was so obvious, the pain and anguish in his eyes where there had been mostly relief just a short time ago. Rogue should have known that he would react that way. Of course he felt sorry for her. Of course he pitied her. They all did, didn’t they? Poor Rogue, who killed her best friend.

 

Professor Xavier cleared his throat. “As I was saying, it may take some time for you to get settled back here, Logan. Please let us know if there’s any way that we can make the transition easier.”

 

So they were going to pretend that they hadn’t been talking about her? Fine. Rogue kept her lips pressed together as she traced the patterns of the pastel-colored rug under her feet, first with her eyes and then with the tip of her black boot.

 

“I’ll do that, Chuck. Right now, I guess the important question would be if I have a room here still?”

 

Rogue’s gaze flashed up to meet the Professor’s, but she didn’t speak up as he smiled at Logan and replied, “Of course. You’ll find that none of your possessions have been disturbed except for some light dusting since we were not sure when you intended to return. Rogue wouldn’t let us pack anything away into storage.” She blushed and would have welcomed it if the sofa had swallowed her whole right then and there, but when she peeked at Logan he just smirked at her. She met the challenge in his eyes with one of her own, her chin tipping up defiantly.

 

“Wanna remind me how to get there, darlin’?” he asked, walking over and holding out a hand.

 

 

Rogue slipped her fingers over his palm, swallowing at the heat that flashed through her when their skin met. He gripped her hand gently and pulled her to her feet—well, foot—and helped her balance as Ororo handed her the crutches again. They walked out with a murmured good-bye to the others, Rogue clunking along just ahead of him on the crutches.

Logan was content to let the silence stretch between them as he followed Rogue out into the hall. As far as he was concerned, most of what they’d needed to talk about had been covered during their conversation on the Blackbird, although he knew that she probably wanted to tell him about what happened with Jubilee herself. When Charles had gently explained the girl’s death short before Rogue appeared in his office, Logan had been stunned and sad. He remembered the girl whose energy seemed too great to be confined to her tiny frame. He mourned for Rogue because he was sure that she was still beating herself up about the accident even all these months later.

He was not at all surprised when she chose to take the elevator up to the third floor where the teacher’s rooms were located. She wouldn’t want his help up the stairs, and she would have needed it. His girl was proud like that, sometimes too much for her own good.

In the confines of the elevator he let himself savor the feel of her leaning against him for the few seconds it took to travel the short distance. He had missed this, the feeling of her next to him, no need for words or even glances. There was comfort there, under the heat of desire that shot through him with every small movement she made. He pulled in a deep breath and grinned slightly at the scent of her arousal as it rose around him. So he wasn’t the only one affected. Good.

As she clomped out of the elevator, one of her crutches caught on the lip of the opening. Logan’s hand shot out, catching her by the elbow before she wobbled more than once. She flashed him a shy, grateful smile and straightened up. He was tempted to simply carry her to her room, just as he had earlier to the medlab, but he knew that she would want to keep her dignity as much as possible even in this situation. So he smiled back and watched her maneuver more carefully down the hall towards his room. She paused just before the door, obviously preferring to let him enter first. He ran a hand down her arm in a brief caress and then opened the door for the first time in two years.

He had expected dust, the musty odor of a long-closed room, but instead he found a pristine oasis, his bed made with his favorite blanket as if he had just left that morning—only he never made the bed when he stayed here. Every corner of the space was filled with the scent of Rogue, sweet and thick as honey blossoms. He glanced back at her, took in the wide eyes and the bottom lip trapped between her teeth, apprehension replacing the arousal of only moments earlier. Without a word he reached out and drew her carefully into the room, mindful of her crutches. When she was less than an arm length away, he scooped her up. She let out a little shriek and buried her red face into his neck.

“So, how long have you been staying in here, Marie?” he gloated.

She raised her dark head to look him in the eye and shook her head. “It’s not like that, Logan. Ah just…Ah like to come here to get away from things sometimes. It’s been worse the last few months, too, with…with losing Jubilee. Ah’ve been decorating my room with more yellow than is good for a body,” she tried joke.

“So you retreat to my room?” He set her on bed gently and walked over to close the door, propping her forgotten crutches next to the frame.
Rogue nodded. “Mostly. Sometimes Ah’ll fall asleep here reading or just thinking, but I tried not to invade your privacy too much. Ah know it’s important to you.”

Logan sat next to her and leaned in so that their noses were almost touching. “Nothing is more important to me than you. You’re all I could think about while they held me,” he told her sincerely.

She gulped. “Ah’m sorry that we didn’t know.”

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t blame any of you, not even Wheels. They liked to brag about the precautions they’d taken, the way they kept me locked up tight so that he’d never get a whiff of my mental signature. If they’d decided to kill me in that cell instead of torturing me for not giving in, no one would ever have realized that I didn’t just abandon you all. And I didn’t exactly give you a good reason to have faith in me sticking around,” he admitted.

“Ah know you’ve got itchy feet, sugah. So do Ah, a little. Ah don’t care about any of that. Ah just want to know that you’re safe and coming back to me.” He sank into the sincerity behind her words, shining from her dark brown eyes.

“Always, Marie. Always.” He leaned in further and brushed her lips with his once, twice, deepening the kiss slowly as he savored the taste of her. Gathering her close, he reacquainted himself with the feel of her, soft lush curves and warm skin. This wasn’t the time to give in to the beast inside, though, so he pulled back after a few minutes of one of the most intense kisses he could remember experiencing.

“Wanna tell me about what happened?”

She knew what he meant immediately. Her head curled down onto his shoulder, a time-honored gesture of trust between them. He pulled them across the bed so that they were propped up on the pillows and wrapped both arms around her.

“It was an accident.” Her voice turned husky with the memories. “We were in a fight, and this wall just collapsed on us. My skin was turned on, and she was stuck next to me while they tried to pull the rubble off. By the time they reached us, Ah’d drained her. Ah was barely even conscious, and Ah didn’t even know who Ah was for a while—myself or Jubilee. Sometimes it felt like Ah was both. Sometimes…sometimes it still does. Ah hear her voice in my head, Logan, and it’s like she’s still here with me.”

He didn’t think she’d told anyone else that little tidbit. “Do you think the Professor could help you suppress her, like the others?” he asked carefully, running his fingers through her hair slowly.

She shook her head in a sharp movement. “No!”

“No?” He waited for her to continue, sure that there was more.
“Ah don’t want to lose her again, Logan! If Ah don’t have her in my head, one of my best friends will really be dead!” she said, and he felt the dampness of her tears soaking the thin fabric of his shirt.

He hesitated. “But we’ve already lost her, Marie. All of us. What’s in your head is more of an echo, right? It’s not really her. She’s dead.” The words were hard, so hard to force out.

“Ah know! Ah know, and it’s all my fault!” his love sobbed as she pressed closer as if she was trying to sink into him, away from the harshness of the outside world.

“No it’s not! Don’t think like that!” Logan scolded her. His arms tightened around her.

She raised her head to look him in the eye. “It is. It’s my fault. Ah haven’t even used my mutation on a mission since then…until today,” she told him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do the others know?”

She glanced away guiltily. “Ah’ve been getting better at accessing mutations Ah’ve absorbed before, especially if it was more than once. It takes a lot more effort, but Ah’ve been using that instead,” she admitted.

“So they don’t know.”

“No.”

“Why? Why haven’t you told them?”

“What am Ah supposed to say, Logan? Am Ah supposed to tell them that Ah’m too afraid that Ah’ll kill one of them to use my most effective weapon? Am Ah supposed to stay out of fights until Ah get over this stupid fear? It’ll go away. It’s only been a couple months.”

Logan shook his head. “I think you know better than that. And I think you’re underestimating them all. They don’t blame you for Jubilee’s death, and they aren’t scared of the same thing happening. I can tell when people are scared, remember? None of ‘em smell scared around you,” he tried to reassure her.

Rogue just shook her head. “Ah’ll start using my own mutation when Ah’m ready. Ah’m a big girl, and Ah know what Ah’m doing,” she insisted, starting to pull away from him.

He tightened his arms so that she couldn’t escape. “Fine. It’s up to you, but I’ll be watching. I’m not going to let you wear yourself out. And I wouldn’t be surprised if the Professor and Jean already know.”

She gave in and collapsed against him. “Ah know,” she whispered. “But Ah have to do this at my own pace. And Ah can’t handle using my mutation around them right now unless Ah really have to.”

“Like today? Did you have to today?”

“Of course, silly. How else was Ah gonna save your ass?” she asked, some of her spirit shining through once more as she slapped his arm lightly before snuggling back into him, her breathing calmer than before.

“Sorry. Forgot about that,” he chuckled.

They laid there like that until both drifted off into a deep sleep, the first without dreams for either in a very long time.