If you leave, don't leave now
Please don't take my heart away
Promise me just one more night
Then we'll go our separate ways
With hours left time on our sides
Now it's fading fast
Every second every moment
We've got to--we've gotta make it last.
This was a nightmare. Since he's had his share of those, he knew this time he was completely screwed. Wonder if Jean will think less of him if he started hyperventilating? One-Eye, the prick, would probably laugh at him.
Shit.
She was so pale, like the color of the two white streaks of hair that framed her face. He instinctively reached out to her hand and held on like his life depended on it. God, she looked so ethereal he wouldn't be surprised if she got up, told him to kiss her butt goodbye, and floated away. He wanted to yell, he wanted to kill, he wanted to rip some heads off . . . he wanted to hold on to her until she seeped deep into his bones. That way, she'd have nowhere to run.
The heart monitor beside her bed beeped, each beep imperceptibly farther and farther apart. Little by little. So little that no human could possibly notice, but he noticed. All that was left of her was that jagged green line. It was winding down like an ancient clock that just couldn't keep up with the time. His eyes glazed over, watching the line flicker on the black monitor. The minutes slipped away like seconds. He didn't know how long he had stood there until he noticed everyone else had left. Minutes. Hours. What did it matter anymore?
He lightly brushed off a stray strand of hair away from her temple. He suddenly remembered doing something similar . . .so long ago. The grungy scrap of metal that he had given to her rested at the hollow of her slender throat. It shone in the light. She had taken better care of it then he ever did. He didn't know what possessed him to give it to her, it was the only thing linking him with his forgotten past. Yet in these past few years, he had never gotten rid of the habit of touching the non-existent dog tag, because the gesture reminded him of her. She convinced him that there was still hope and good in a world that turned its back on him. She was the only thing that anchored him every time the bad memories resurfaced. The metal in him was the constant reminder of the freak that he was. There were times when he wanted to just rip the metal out with his bare teeth because he felt like a puppet that was dancing to some forgotten melody. He felt inhuman. The more dead ends he met, the more he held on to the memories of her, like the vision of land to a drowning man. She kept him afloat and kept him trying, until he realized mere memories were no longer enough.
Little did he know that the next time he saw her, it would be the stuff of even more nightmares. Even his healing powers couldn't save her and god knows he tried hard enough to incapacitate him for days. She was deteriorating too quickly for him to have any affect on her. He was so frustrated, it took everything to just stand still. Now all he could do was watch the ever slowing of the heart monitor, taunting him and telling him that she was slipping away.
He didn't believe in God, but if there was something governing this chaotic ruthless world, be it God, or some other power, he prayed that somehow a miracle could be granted. This was a special cause. Goddamnit. . . she was special.
Anything. Anything. But there she laid still, non-responsive to his pleas. He wanted to say things to her. Women always like words, but he found himself speechless. Grief, anger, and desperation bubbled in his throat. He choked. But words would do no justice to what she meant to him. Was it a friendship? Was it reverence? Was it . . . love? Watching her lying there so still, he realized it was more primitive. She kept him human.
He was stupid. Stupid to have let her get to him like that. Stupid to have given her the dog tags. Stupid to have let her on his truck. Stupid to have looked into her wary eyes. Stupid. Look where it got him. FUCK!
The fingers in his fist trembled. His eyes widened. Oh God, oh God. Her eyes flutter open, round and wide in her ashen face. The pupils focused on him. As if that wasn't enough, her lips parted and she whispered, "Logan."
His heart almost burst right there. He felt his brain hollow out and his knees go dangerously weak. What . . . Jean. He had to find Jean. He let go of her hand and turned to run out of the infirmary.
"Running again?"
He felt her gloved hand tight on his arm, but thought irrationally that she might disappear once he turned around. What if it was just a dream? Would he wake up if he turned around? However, the hand on his arm was quite insistent. He took a deep shuddering breath and turned to face her. She was sitting up . . . getting up.
"What do you think you're DOING?!" he nearly roared.
Her stubborn chin shot up and she regally replied, "Stealin' the jet," and proceeded to sidle off the bed. With her back straight as a broomstick, she headed toward the hanger.
Logan blinked once. Twice. Confused doesn't even begin to describe what he was feeling at the current moment. Unfortunately, his brain had decided enough was enough and ceased to function.
With a defiant toss of her thick brown hair, Marie turned her head and gave him the darnest 'come hither' look he'd ever seen. "You comin'?"
"You should be in bed! Someone should be checking on you!" He didn't know if he was telling her or himself. God, it felt so good to scream.
The playfulness faded from her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled slightly before managing a small brave smile. He had a sudden urge to hug her and never let her go.
"Logan," she began as her gloved hand reached up to lightly touch the bags under his eyes, "We live in a house with the world's most powerful telepath." Her voice wobbled. She smiled apologetically and continued, "They . . . already know." She gazed at him, knowingly, with eyes that glittered softly like dying fireworks.
Realization drained the blood from his face. They already know, yet they weren't coming to check on her . . . because they knew they could do nothing for her. Because they were leaving her last moments for herself, letting her do whatever she wanted. His breath came in short pants. His mind was in disbelief. What started out as hope was now a confirmation of her imminent death. With an anguished growl, he wrapped her in his arms, holding her so tightly that he knew it must have hurt. But she didn't say a thing, like she was content to stay in his arms, for as long as it took . . . for as long as it was possible.
His heartbeat was loud against her ear. It was so alive and beating hard for someone whose heart was about to give out. She closed her eyes to listen, to feel the life in him. 'Please', she thought wistfully, 'Give me your strength.'
He drew her away from him. She took a hard look at him, wanting to remember, willing herself to forget everything but the man standing in front of her. He looked like hell. Sharp angles marred his handsome face and his eyes were shadowed with sleepless nights. But he was Logan. That was more than enough.
She leaned closer still. Pain was so alive in his eyes that it hurt to look into them. But he was stoic when he asked baldly, "Where do you want to go?"
I touch you once I touch you twice
I won't let go at any price
I need you now like I needed you then
You always said we'd still be friends someday
"Marie." God, she had been quiet during the trip. Now her eyes were closed. He had been too preoccupied with flying the jet for the first time to notice. God, he had been afraid to do anything else but fly the jet. He was afraid that he would say something wrong, or do something wrong, something that would break her fragile strength. Now he was terrified. Terrified that he failed to give Marie her last wish. Terrified that he had just wasted their last moment. Was she even going to wake up? Was she gone? He took off his gloves. His hand trembled as he touched her cheek. He closed his eyes, held his breath and waited for her powers to take his energy. It didn't. He gripped harder. Any harder and he would break her arm.
His eyes opened slowly, like a man who knew he would witness something horrible.
Nothing.
He fell to the floor and collapsed into her chair. His arms dangled on the armrests and his head fell on her lap. She was gone. She was gone. She was gone.
"Logan?"
He jerked his head back. She was looked down at him, white strands of hair framing her face like a halo. Innocence personified.
"Are we there yet?"
If you leave I won't cry
I won't waste one single day
But if you leave don't look back
I'll be running the other way
Seven years went under the bridge
Like time was standing still
Heaven knows what happens now
You've got to--you've gotta say you will
I touch you once I touch you twice
I won't let go at any price
I need you now like I needed you then
You always said we'd meet again
He carried her in his arms as they trampled through the snow-covered ground. He stopped a couple of feet away from the jet. She got to her feet and looked across the sky expectantly. The icy wind blew against their cheeks, but neither of them seemed to mind. She waited.
The dark canvas of the sky suddenly exploded with bright celestial colors. She gasped, startled by the sight. "It's so beautiful," she whispered to herself. It was more beautiful than she could have ever imagined. She hurled around to face Logan, "Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"
He stared at her. "Yes."
She smiled with a serenity that he didn't feel and returned her gaze to the fluttering lights in the sky. With wonder in her eyes, she opened her arms and danced under the shower of blues, violets, and reds. Gradually she stopped, like the unwinding of a spinning top. She was suddenly very tired. Her knees wobbled and she weakly sank into the white snow.
"Marie!" He ran to her and surrounded her with his arms. She clutched at him until they were both sitting in the snow, with her cradled in his embrace.
"You know, I've always wanted to see the northern lights. I had it all planned out. After high school, before college, I was going to travel to see the sights. The Aurora Borealis, the Statue of Liberty . . ." She snuggled closer as the memories resurfaced. He clenched his jaw, remembering what she had been put through. The white in her hair was evidence of that, evidence that if he had been a moment too late, she would have died. God, it could have been seconds. He hugged her impossibly tighter as she continued. "I didn't want to just . . . give it up because of my powers, because I had already given up so much. I was on my way to see this that day," she gestured at the pulsing lights, "If it weren't for this, I would have never met the X-Men, the Professor . . . " she tilted her head up until her eyes met his, "You."
His heart went still, matching the silence of the night. He finally looked across the sky at the array of glittering colors. For an instant, he felt something like the serenity he had seen in her eyes. Fate was his enemy. Fate was his friend. But Fate had given them this moment. Without thinking, he traced his fingers on the contours of her face. She instinctively jerked away, until his fingers tightened and captured her. He smiled, though it looked more like a grimace. It dawned on her. She sighed. What was she suppose to feel? Happy? Sad? Angry? She closed her hand over his, drowning in the sensation of his touch. It doesn't matter.
"At least I get to be a normal girl, one last time." She leaned into his open palm and closed her eyes to savor the simple feeling of his touch. When she opened her eyes, they glittered like the stars. She tilted forward until their noses touched. Now they shared the same air. "I'm going to kiss you Logan."
Seconds passed and yet he said nothing. Just as she was about to make good on her word, his hands came up and held her face still. Her eyes flickered with uncertainty until his lips came to touch hers. For a moment, time couldn't touch them. Death was kept at bay.
Skin against skin. Flesh against flesh.
The stars in the sky were nothing compared to the white-hot bursts of light behind his eyes. He never felt so completely male and. . . human. He belonged to her. She possessed and accepted every part of him, human and not, until there was nothing left for himself but the ability to feel his lips on hers. She gave him the reason for being.
Touch. Feel.
At this instant, she was whole. She didn't have to push away or shrink away from his touch. She didn't have to hold back her innate instinct to feel the texture of his skin, his lips. She didn't have to struggle against the thirst of her soul for the touch of another. The battle was over. Her heart rejoiced for the freedom to feel each pore, each hair, and each contour of the man she had touched in every way but one.
When they parted, they inhaled sharply and desperately. To take in the needed oxygen into their lungs. To capture the moment that still lingered in the air.
Their foreheads still touched, as if they still couldn't bear to be apart.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to come back. I never thought anything would happen to you." The words stumbled out so fast that he couldn't stop them. She held her hand over his lips. Tonight wasn't about regrets. Not his. Not hers.
She took off the dog tags and placed it over his head. It slipped coolly around his neck. "I want you to have this."
The lump in his throat grew bigger. "Will you be back for it?" he asked hoarsely, his voice raw with emotion.
She lowered her head, as if to contain emotions that were too strong and painful to bear. No regrets. When she lifted her head, she gently dangled the dog tags through her fingers, and then bravely stared into his haggard eyes. "Keep it close," she said softly, "It'll be like I never left. Like you never left."
He didn't know what to say to that. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. There was so much he wanted to tell her. Yet only two words came to mind. He achingly kissed the curve of her cheek and said with his heart and soul, "Thank you."
The lights danced gracefully across the dark sky.
"It's getting . . . so dark," she said, shivering. Suspicion clawed at him as he slowly waved his hand over her eyes. Her liquid brown eyes stared hopelessly ahead, blind to the movement and to the world around her.
Life was bleeding away from her, drop-by-drop, and taking pieces of him with her. 'How can it hurt so much? How much more?' he asked himself, anguish tearing into every cell of his body. It hurt so much that he wanted to close his eyes and shut it all out. But every other one of his senses felt her. The taste of her lingered on his lips. The scent of her surrounded him. The touch of her skin enthralled him. The sound of her faint breath . . . kept him waiting for the next exhale and fearing for silence. No, he didn't want to close his eyes. He wanted to remember every curve, every hair, everything about her, even if it meant he had to withstand each and every twist of the knife that was bleeding his heart.
Her small hands fluttered about, searching for him in her darkness. He took them tightly in his and brought them to his lips. But he couldn't stop the inevitable. She was falling away like sand through his fist. No matter how hard he held on, she was slipping through the cracks.
She grew cold, like the snow. Enchantingly vacant. Her fingers had ceased to explore the crevices of his palm, as if they no longer revered his touch. . . no longer felt his warmth. Her face grew blank. All that remained was a mask of icy skin. Death drew her closer still. Each moment became more precious then the last. Then simple words came to her, from the fate that brought her here, from the strength that she always felt from him.
"I'm," she started, and then stopped, as if her breath had run out. She was so tired, but she managed the words. One by one, haltingly, she finished, "Ah'm . . . glad . . . we got . . . to see it . . . together."
Then lights faded back into the darkness and sky was still once more.
I touch you once I touch you twice
I won't let go at any price
I need you now like I needed you then
You always said we'd still be friends
I touch you once I touch you twice
I won't let go at any price
I need you now like I needed you then
You always said we'd meet again someday
Her hand unraveled. Finger by finger, they went lax and fell to the snowy ground.
His thumb went to his own cheek. Wet. He brought it to his mouth. Salt. He swallowed it and let the pain flare through him.
He stared blankly across the empty winter vista. The moon glowed patiently as it had for millennia, clear and bright.
He threw back his head and howled into the silent night.
If you leave
Oh if you leave
Oh if you leave
Don't look back
Don't look back
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Err, just found out the Guiding Light was(is?) a soap. This isn't particularly soapy, so uh, yeah, I don't want anyone to have any misconceptions. My first x-fic . . .actually my first fic (wohoo!) in a year++; (argh!) I'm kind of rusty. Or rather, never that good in the first place, so here's to jumping in the pool headfirst. I dedicate my first x-fic to Her Evilness, Melly. Someday, I hope to be as evil as you. ;)