***

“Marian,” Rogue sighed. She sat perched on the edge of the mattress. A pillow hung precariously on the edge, threatening to slide onto the floor. Across the room, Logan leaned against the dresser, fingering the brim of his cowboy hat. “I told him my name was Marian.”
“But it isn’t, is it?” Logan muttered, replacing his hat and stalking across the room to her side. His hand fell upon her shoulder, comforting.
“No, it isn’t.” She frowned. Fingers sought out the wilting pillow and she pulled the comforting item against her chest. “I don’t know what I was thinking, running off with him. Maybe Cain was right. Maybe he did remind me of my…”
“I’m sorry you lost him, kid.” Logan frowned, crouching to the floor, his hand sliding from Rogue’s shoulder to the underside of her chin. Her eyes briefly met his, and the Cajun’s red irises glowed devilishly beneath a thicket of white hair.
“Please…don’t look at me. It won’t go away. Every time I look in the mirror, I see it. Every time I close my eyes to sleep, he’s there.”
“I know the feeling, darlin’.” Inside the pocket of his jeans, he felt the wedding ring, engraved with his name and a vow of love that he couldn’t remember.

Rogue nestled her face into the pillow, muffling her voice. Before her, Logan slid his hand into her small palm, encasing her fingers in his tender grasp. Cautious blue eyes watched her shoulders tremble.
“I never thought I would miss my powers.” Her words were partially garbled and Logan strained to hear. “But I hate being him. He’s dead, but he’s stuck inside me and I can’t shake him. What if I’m stuck like this forever?”
“There are upsides and downsides to everything, kid. You may be stuck looking like the Cajun, but at least you can do this.”

Affectionately, Logan removed the young girl’s glove and pulled her palm to his face. Her skin was warm and smooth, and she flinched when he placed her fingers against the day old stubble on his chin. Delicately, she explored the roughness of his beard, the slight crinkles around his eyes, and the scruff beneath his chin.
“You and me, we’re the same, Rogue. I just want you to know…if you ever need anything, you can come to me.”
“Thanks, Logan. And it’s Jane. I think it may be Jane.”
Logan nodded, getting to his feet. He dropped a light kiss on the crown of Rogue’s head and turned for the exit, grabbing his hand from the dresser and placing it on his head. A light scent of dishonesty hung over Rogue’s shoulders as she mouthed the name over and over again, allowing it to roll over her tongue. His head shook briefly and he slipped from the room.

***
End.