Rogue sailed into the dining hall that evening. Humming quietly to
herself she loaded up a dinner tray before heading over to where the
X-Men were sitting, including a distracted Logan.
"Hey Logan, I forgot to tell you earlier but the professor asked to
see us both in his office tomorrow after breakfast."
"Sure kid," he grunted. He gestured with his fork at the seat
opposite him. "Sit?"
Completely surprised by the invitation she stuttered, "Oh, um…my
friends are saving me a spot."
With that she turned and walked to join a table of teens at the
opposite side of the room. He watched the easy camaraderie she had
with her fellow students and an irrational spark of jealously
flashed though him which he quickly quashed. It was still strange
for him to see her like this. Strange to reconcile the kid who sat
at a shit hole bar in the middle of the Canadian Rockies looking
lost and alone with the vibrant young woman sitting in a mansion
eating dinner and chatting with her friends.
"Where did you disappear to all afternoon Chica?"
"Nowhere, I just had to ask the professor something and then talk to
Logan about his self-defense class we're all starting next week."
"What!" The entire table was now looking at her with varying
degrees of excitement and trepidation.
"Yeah, the Professor told me about it, apparently the class is for
all the seniors."
The table instantly erupted in a cacophony of comments and questions.
"*Wolverine* is teaching it?"
"We are so screwed."
"I thought that Cyclops handled the self-defense classes."
"Oh come on. Wolverine could kick Cyclops' ass any day of the week."
"I'd pay good money to see that."
"God he is so freaking hot."
"You're all cracked," Rogue stated with a decisive grin.
____________ _________ _________ _________ _________
The following morning Rogue approached the rich mahagony door of the
professor's office and stopped stupidly on the threshold nonplussed
at not having received a mental welcome to enter. She looked down
the hall at the grandfather clock, wondering if she was early.
Seeing that she was right on time she raised her hand and knocked.
"Come in," the Professor called in his cultured tones.
Rogue smiled when she entered the room and saw Logan leaning against
a bookcase on the far side of the room while the professor was
behind his desk, eyes twinkling. Suddenly remembering her wry
suggestion from the day before she asked fondly, "Kicks right?"
"Indeed," he agreed with a smile. "Please have a seat. I'm glad
you both could make it. Rogue, have you shared with Logan with you
discussed with me yesterday?"
"Not exactly Professor," wide brown eyes flicked briefly over to
Logan before settling back on her hands in her lap. "I don't even
know for sure what's goin' on."
`Why don't we start at the beginning, you believe you have retained
some of Logan's powers."
"It's just been…little things over the last two weeks. Like I can
hear *everything* all of a sudden and I had to beg Jubes to stop
wearing so much freaking perfume. Then two days ago I got a cut on
my leg that healed right up. I haven't really been injured in the
last few months so I don't know if I have been healing all along or
if it is just since he got back," She looked over at Logan. "It's
the same with the senses. I thought they had faded in the weeks
after Liberty Island. But maybe I just got used to them and seeing
ya sort of, reminded me of the possibilities. "
"Interesting, but let me ask you this, do you still retain the
powers of anyone else you have touched? Magneto for instance."
"Ah don't know."
"Would you try now for us please?" the Professor asked as he reached
into a desk drawer and pulled out a single paper clip that he set on
the desk in front of him.
A look of intense concentration crossed Rogues face as she struggled
to draw the paper clip toward her. After several fruitless minutes
she released a defeated sigh and slumped back in her chair in defeat.
The Professor simply nodded thoughtfully, "perhaps it is a result of
your having absorbed Logan twice that allows you to retain some of
his powers."
"I don't know, I just…" she trailed off and a sick look flashed
across her face before her expression shut down
entirely. "Professor, could you ask Dr. Grey to come in here."
"What is it kid?" Logan had been silent to this point but Rogue had
gone white as a sheet and he was instantly on guard.
"I need to ask her something."
"Are ya ok?"
She gave a brief, humorless laugh before answering quietly, "I'm
fine."
There was a quick knock at the door even as the handle turned and
Jean entered the office. She took in the strange scene before her
with equanimity and simply asked Rogue, "What can I do for you?"
Rogue had been looking fixedly at her hands clasped tightly in her
lap but she gathered her resolve and looked Jean straight in the eye
and said, "What was Logan's medical status when you got him on the
jet at Liberty Island?"
Not at all the question she was expecting Jean's eyes flicked
quickly over the Professor and Logan wondering what had prompted
this. Seeing that both men were equally surprised she
hedged, "Critical."
Rogue simply stared hard at her. It was unnerving so Jean expanded
slightly, "Extremely critical condition."
At this Logan finally caught on as to what the kid was thinking with
these questions and he silently willed Jean not to confirm what he
knew now to be true. He wouldn't put it past his healing factor to
bring him back from a few minutes of dead; it wouldn't be the first
time. But Marie sure as hell didn't need to hear that. Rogue
however was not satisfied with Jeans vague response and insisted
quietly, "It's important."
Jean pursed her lips in reluctance before giving a decisive
nod. "When we got Logan on the Blackbird my initial exam revealed
no pulse or respiratory activity, I immediately began CPR and in
less than two minutes his vital signs were back and stabilized
though he remained unconscious. "
Horror and regret warred across Rogue's face; she looked at Logan
and whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Not able to face him
she stood up and stammered, "I have to go." With that she grabbed
her book bag and practically sprinted for the door before anyone
could move to stop her.
Logan let her go. As much as he wanted to go after her he needed to
make something crystal fucking clear to Chuck and Jean first.
Jean just looked bewildered, "What was that all about?"
"It appears that Rogue has permanently absorbed Logan's mutation,
and not just his memories. I believe that she theorized that this
permanence resulted from having drained him to the point of death.
It is probable that a similar absorption will occur any time her
touch results in death."
Logan had enough. "This doesn't leave this room," his harsh tone
left no room for discussion. "I'm fucking serious. No one else
needs to know this do you understand? Not Cyke, not Ro, no one.
It's already dangerous for her with her mutation, if this gets
out…" he couldn't even finish the thought. Her conversation with
him the day before slammed front and center in his mind and he knew
that her situation had just got even more precarious. If this got
out he wouldn't be able to let her out of his sight. His instincts
were already screaming at him to just grab her and go. Hide her
where no one would ever find her. He ran a frustrated hand over his
face and muttered a curse. With a final hard look at the Professor
and Jean he gave a curt nod and stalked out of the office in search
of Marie.
____________ _________ _________ _______
"Hey kid," he had tracked her down to the boathouse where she was
wrapped tightly in the shadows. She sat on the floor of the deck,
knees drawn up to her chest and back firmly against the wall. She
appeared to be trying to make herself as small as possible. Logan
was having none of that. He slid down the wall next to her,
shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. When she clearly intended to
shift away from the contact he secured her firmly to his side with
an arm around her shoulders. She remained stiff and guarded in his
arms with her gaze fixed resolutely out over the sparkling expanse
of the lake. With his free hand he dug into his jacket pocket to
produce the battered stub of a cigar. He lit up and took a slow
pull before he spoke again.
"It was my choice kid and I would do it again in a second." Maries
stare remained resolutely fixed out over the water. He closed his
eyes and tilted his head back to rest against the wall behind him as
weight of memories from that night came crashing down on him. The
first heart wrenching sounds of her screams. The even worse sound
of silence when her screams ended. Fighting desperately to her
side. Cutting her out of that damn machine. Holding her limp body
in his arms. The horrible seconds when instead of feeling the sweet
agony of her mutation he instead felt only the soft smooth skin of
her face under his hand. Finally his joy as her mutation grabbed a
last chance at life. His jaw clenched at the remembered anguish he
felt when he thought that he had lost her. Maybe she didn't know
how bad it was. She was about to.
He took another drag and asked a little angrily, "Did you ever think
to ask me what your `medical status' was before I touched you?"
She inhaled sharply and went even stiffer in his arms if that was
possible.
"You were dead kid. I touched you and there was no pull. Nothing.
You were dead." He took a final angry pull from the cigar before
stabbing it out viciously and throwing it away from him. "Worst ten
seconds of my fucking life."
When he felt the shudder go through her he knew he had gone too
far. He opened his eyes to look over at her and caught the anguish
clearly written in every curve of her beautiful face. She tried to
turn away to protect him even now but he just tightened his hold on
her and reached a finger out to tilt her chin up so he could look in
her eyes. She couldn't hide from him, he didn't want her to. He
saw her struggle for control and try valiantly to drop an impassive
mask over her pain. He had to close his own eyes when he saw hers
and in a move to comfort the both of them he leaned down and rested
his forehead against the top of her head.
"You're breaking my heart here kid."
With a strangled cry she fell apart in his arms. She sobbed
unrestrainedly into his chest as she hadn't allowed herself to do in
the six months that had passed. She needed to let go before she
could move on, they both did. When she tried to apologize again his
simply shushed her and held on tighter. As the tears subsided they
remained locked in each others embrace for how long neither could
say. When she finally looked up at him he said again firmly, "I
would do it again in a second."
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