“Hey Rogue you’ve got mail,” Scott called softly his gaze catching the young woman who’d grown so much in the years since she’d come to the mansion.



“Thanks,” Rogue smiled softly and took the offered envelope before heading for the library. Settling into the familiar chair that carried Logan’s scent she frowned as she turned the envelope over and over in her hand before tearing into it and pulling out the slim, garish paper.



“Hotel stationary,” she muttered crossly. In the year and a half that Logan had been gone she’d gotten plenty of mail. Logan had written her letter after letter, sometimes sending a gift, other times something from the area he was in, she didn’t expect this letter to be any different.



Opening it she frowned as she realized she didn’t recognize the handwriting or the emblem on the top of the paper other than it wasn’t some hotel stationary. Swallowing at the hard knot that settled in her throat she inhaled slowly and stared at the page for a moment before forcing herself to read it.



*To Rogue: I regret to inform you that Logan aka Wolverine has fallen in battle. As per his wishes his personal affects, pay, and remains will be sent directly to you at the above stated address. My condolences Missus Logan in the loss of your husband.*



Gripping the paper tighter in the hopes of stopping the trembling in her hands Rogue gasped at the pain that sliced through her. Knowing that there had to be a mistake, there had to be something that someone could do she swallowed and rose to her feet shakily. She hadn’t endured hell to lose the only person who gave two shits about her like that.





Glancing up sharply at the sudden blinding wave of pain and anger Charles inhaled sharply and shook his head even as he caught the confusion on Scott and Ororo’s faces. “Some things wrong.”



“What?” Scott asked just as the slam of a door echoed throughout the mansion a moment before they could see Rogue racing through the gathering storm after a car pulling down the driveway. “Rogue! Come back!”



The sickening screech of tires competed with the thud of a body being struck and Scott tore through the house, Jean appearing beside him quickly as they tore down the driveway.



Kneeling next to Rogue, trembling fingers pressed to a neck soaked in blood. Eyes filled with pain and tears glanced up into a red visor and the soft rustle of hair brushing against cotton competed with beating hearts.



Picking up the blood stained note held in Rogue’s hand Jean read it before handing it to Scott as the tears fell.

"How, how accurate is this?" Scott whispered painfully.

"Very," the driver of the car replied, visibly shaken. "I couldn't stop. I tried but she dived out in front of me so fast."

"Where, when?"

"His body's due in tonight at five. The number at the bottom of the page is the funeral home. They uh they specialize in mutants."

"How did he die?"

The woman shrugged sadly, "From what I've been told they sent him in with a supression collar on. When he went against his target they shot him up pretty badly. Combine that with blood loss, heavy metal poisoning...I'm sorry."

"Scott nodded and knelt next to Jean, holding her tightly as she sobbed. They'd lost two lives within seconds. The only light in the darkness was that the two souls were now joined as one, and no one would ever seperate them