The next morning arrived cloudy and ominous. It matched her soul, Rogue thought. No way could she handle a bright, sunny day today.
After the first wave of shock and tears had worn off, she'd managed to haul herself up from the entryway and made her way back to her room. Somehow taking a hot shower didn't feel like it would help things, so she'd curled up, back in bed, and let an exhausted, grieved sleep take her. Eventually she'd awoken, cleaned herself up, and realized she couldn't stay in the room a moment longer. It reeked of him, of her, of them and what they'd done. Her door still wouldn't lock, but she didn't care. Pulling it closed, Rogue had made her way outside. She didn’t care about the whispers of what happened to the kitchen window, she didn’t care who saw her swollen eyes and sorrowful gait. Thankful for the overcast day and the lack of people on the grounds, she wandered aimlessly around the mansion grounds before finally crawling onto a picnic table, closing her eyes, and seeing only Logan's face again.
He was gone. Just like that. He could be back in a few days, few months, never ... with Logan, who knew? She'd gotten almost everything she ever wanted. The animal had wanted her so completely last night, but the man didn't want her or didn’t know what he wanted. So that meant Logan was never really hers, and probably never would be.
Victor had watched her sit at that table for almost an hour, either crying or gazing out into the distance with glazed eyes. He'd never given a moment's notice to anyone else's pain before; had never cared. He didn't really care now, but something about Rogue made her sadness particularly uncomfortable for him and he'd had as much of it as he could stand.
He scooped the crumpled mass up from the picnic table and walked her straight to her room. Unceremoniously dumping Rogue on the bed, he tossed a box of tissues at her.
"Clean yourself up," he said.
She tried to swallow her sniffling, ashamed to let him see her this way. He was watching her, but this time without the usual snide comment.
"Why are you trying to be nice to me?" she demanded, but her voice was cracking.
"I'm not," Victor barked and began pacing.
After a moment he stopped and pointed a finger at her. "You're making a fool of yourself and you're doing it front of everyone!"
Her eyes widened, incredulous. "What do you care?" she demanded of him.
"I don't! But have some goddamn pride! You're sniveling over some runt that doesn't want you? You're not even trying to hide it. You're supposed to be a fucking leader and you're out there, cryin' your eyes out for the whole world to see! You cannot be that weak. Never, NEVER, show them your weakness! You show them weakness and you're finished." He started pacing again and his chest heaved with barely repressed fury.
Rogue watched him with the suspicious feeling that she was awakening some sleeping beast. She tried to speak softly.
"What do you mean ... finished? Victor, no one that sees me upset around here would try to..."
"That kinda weakness and you're as good as dead!"
He pounced on her then, grabbing her sore arms. "Are you listenin' to me?" he roared into her face. "I don't care how bad it hurts, no one gives a shit. So if you're in pain, then find a way to deal with it, but you *don't* fall apart for everyone to see. It's not worth it ... he's not worth it, or are you still too stupid to see that?"
The grip on her arms tightened. "Well are you? Or are you gonna tell me you'd forgive him if he came crawlin' back?!"
Victor shook her as if to try and wake her up, but she was already awake, wide awake - and it felt like a living nightmare crashing down on top of her. Logan was gone. He'd said he needed to figure it out, but it felt like he was never coming back. She wanted to hate him for what he'd done, for treating her like it all meant so little to him, like last night was wrong, like their feelings were wrong. She wanted so badly to hate him, but she couldn't. All she felt was ... nothing; a numbness that threatened to consume her and right now, numb would feel so good.
The one person she didn't want witnessing her breakdown was only inches away and somehow he knew exactly what had happened. They'd never had one serious conversation before, but here she was, being forced to face her reality in front of him. His drowning black gaze had her trapped with fury and something even darker, and just his staring provoked her, challenged her to take the bait.
She turned on him, releasing an outrage she didn't even know she'd contained.
"Don't you dare! Don't you dare talk to me about Logan! Who the hell do you think you are? If I wanna break down then it's my fucking right! I don't care what you say! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about! What gives you the goddamn right to say those things to me?" she said, her voice shaking out of anger and somewhere deeper still, shame and embarrassment. He had no right, yet he was so very right.
He leaned in close enough so that she could feel the warmth of his breath.
"Because no one else has got the guts to be honest with you - that's why," he snarled.
"You're one to talk about honesty! And what the hell do you know about how bad it hurts?! Huh? WELL?!" she yelled into his face. "I don’t know anyone with fewer feelings and I don't think I've ever met anyone so goddamn insensitive and selfish!"
Victor released her and took a couple of steps backwards. He glared at her then gave a laugh that came out bitter.
"You'd be surprised if you knew angel, so don't ever, EVER, talk to me about hurt 'cause I'm tellin' you ... you have absolutely NO fuckin' idea what you're talking about!" he yelled in response.
The rage flared around him. She'd seen him angry before, like a raging bull, but this was different; it was painful. Somewhere beneath all that fury lay something else, something darker yet flaring with life. This was something she'd never seen before. She didn't think anyone else had either.
"How the hell am I supposed to know?!” she screamed. “It's not like you ever really say *anything* and when you do ... it's because you're up to something. Nothing you say is real - it's all some damn game with you! You toyed with me like it was all big fun! You can't possibly know what MY hurt is like when you've never loved anything in your whole god forsaken life!"
Rogue felt like she was wheezing now. She wanted to spew her bitterness on him because somehow she knew he could take it. He could take just about every cruel remark or accusation she could come up with. Lashing out at him made things feel better. She wanted someone else to feel the pain inside her; she wished she could just release it all on him. If she could only blame it all on Victor, it might ease the hurt.
She wanted to hate someone. She wanted the gift he'd left in her locker to mean nothing and even more she wanted that plain piece of paper on top of it to mean nothing. But he'd been trying to tell her he was sorry. I'm sorry. The one man on earth she knew that would never apologize or feel guilty about anything had in his own way told her he was sorry. She'd never expected that from Victor, never. He'd never cared about anything before. Anything except maybe her.
Her.
As it dawned on Rogue, she felt every single drop of blood leave her face. It couldn’t possibly be true. She managed to push back any kind of remorse or guilt over using him to the back of her mind. I'm sorry.
Maybe he should be sorry! He started all of this, she told herself. Things had been fine until he came here, and then everything went all to shit. It was his fault!
"You must be thrilled now that you've finally got what you wanted,” she spat at him. “Logan took off. Proved you right. Bet you couldn’t wait to rub it in. This is probably what you had planned all along," she said, sounding bitter.
Victor snorted. "You’re so fuckin’ blind. He left on his own because he can’t accept the kinda man he is!” He balled his hands into fists and faced her. "I'll tell you what else he is 'cause I saw him leave: a fuckin' coward, a dog running away with his tail between his hind legs because he don’t wanna face what he is! Is that the kinda man you want? Is it?”
"And you're saying you're better than him? That has to be the biggest lie of all,” Rogue accused. “Yes that’s the man I want! I love him and now he is gone!"
"Love," he said in disdain, like it was a curse, then turned his back on Rogue.
"You're doing it again! What the hell is your problem?" she yelled.
Victor glared at her over his shoulder. "You call me insensitive and miserable and all sorts of things, fine. Think what the hell you want about me angel. Give me one reason why I should care anyway. Did you ever think, for one second, that maybe *you're* not the fuckin' innocent victim in this after all? Maybe you should point your blame somewhere else?"
"Shut up! Just shut up! This is all your fault!!"
Suddenly, the beast she'd awoken, lashed back at her.
"You fucked him! So?" he roared, jabbing his finger towards her. "You got no one else to blame for that! It's what you always wanted, so don't try to lay that shit on me. I told you he would never, never see you that way. I coulda told you this would happen. You want someone else to hurt? Fine! Lay *that* on me, but don't look at me like I caused all this. This isn't my fault, it isn't yours - fuck, it's not even the runt's fault...it just is!"
Victor started pacing the room again before he came to stand in front of Rogue.
"I never asked you to defend me when I first came here, did I?" he snarled into her face. "So don't act like you know anything about me because you don't. You don't know shit about me! But if you want me to hurt too - if my pain will make you feel better ... then give it your best fuckin' shot angel!"
He grabbed her arms again and hissed, "Go ahead, hurt me Rogue."
"No," she said but refused to look away.
"I know you wanna hurt me, so do it. You want someone to pay. Do it! Fuckin' hurt me! Hurt! Me!" he roared into her face.
Rogue shook her head. Maybe she wanted him to hurt, but not like this, she didn't want to cause him pain intentionally. His rage was starting to scare her and looking into those pitch black eyes made her wish she hadn't. She thought about that piece of paper again. I'm sorry.
Victor moved his iron grip to her hands as he pressed them against his face, forcing her to cradle him. When he spoke his voice came out hoarse and vibrating out of repressed fury.
"I'm not asking, I'm telling you! Give me pain. Hurt me and make me bleed, angel. I know you want someone else to hurt. You've wanted to make me pay for weeks so fuckin' do it! Give me all that anger and drain me. If it will make you feel better then DO IT!" He stared wildly at her and the longer he held her gaze that rolling anger seemed to give way to something more desperate.
A heaviness hit Rogue's chest, making her gasp for air as the tears spilled out again. What he'd said was true; it wasn’t his fault. It wasn't Logan's, it wasn't hers, it wasn't Victor's ... it just was - and making someone else hurt wouldn't fix a damn thing. She felt so tired, exhausted by her emotions.
"I don't want ... your pain,” she sobbed in gasps. “That won't ... fix it," she pulled free to run from her room, unsure of even where to go now.
Victor had had enough of her tears. He'd never comforted a single soul in his entire life, but all he knew was she needed to stop crying. Her tears made everything worse. He grabbed her on the way to the door. Unsure of what to do next, he simply pulled her in, shoving her face into his chest.
"Just stop crying," he ordered loudly. "Stop ... crying." He pressed her there, with one large palm on the back of her head and one across her back. "It’ll be better if you just ... stop ... crying," he reasoned.
Rogue thought she'd run dry, but she cried heavy tears, the noise muffled in the cavern of his massive chest. He held her there for what seemed like forever. The one thing Victor didn't want more of was her suffering. What he’d really wanted was to punish the runt; hurt him for always having Rogue's loyalty, for being her first choice and always trying to act like the bigger man. But his intention wasn't for her to suffer like this as a result. Sure, he'd blamed her too for how he felt and wanted to punish her, but for some reason there was no satisfaction in that now. When her tears finally waned, she pushed against him.
"I can't breathe," she mumbled against him, still shaky. "Thanks," she muttered when she turned to sit down on her bed, but she was saying it to his back.
Victor had already turned to walk out her door, not saying another word.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
No way could she handle a bright, sunny day today.