Chapter 3
“Tears are due to human misery, and human sufferings touch the mind.” - Virgil
The storm had well and truly taken hold over the mansion. The evening skies were diminished of any sunset rays as steel clouds throbbed darkly across the heavens. Rain fell in sharp sheets, striking the ground with a cutting force. Logan observed the sombre weather out of one of the upstairs windows, staring out through the heavy rain. Thunder rumbled ominously above, with occasional flashes of light illuminating the heaving clouds. The lush grounds were thrown into sharp relief from the lightning, silhouetting a figure sat out on the upper floor balcony. He quickly frowned, who in their right mind would be out in this weather? Not to mention it was getting late. Logan pulled back from the window, lightly jogging down the corridor until he came upon the set of wooden double doors that led out onto the balcony. He stared out through the glass squares. There was definitely someone out there.
His hand quietly dropped to the handle, turning it southward as he eased open the door. He stepped out into the blackness; quickly feeling the lashes of the downpour begin to soak his form through. “Hey, are you alright?” he called to the figure ahead. His keen sight could make out a person sat on the stone wall with their back to him, staring out at the horizon. Other than that, the rain visually limited his normally exceptional senses. He got no reply, but that wasn’t surprise. He closed the door behind him, then striding off across the numerous puddles over the flagstones towards the silent figure. He took a sniff at the air, seeking through the scent of the rain and the static of the lightning. Logan’s discovery only made him frown more. “Kid, what you doin’ out here?” he asked, continuing up behind her.
Rogue didn’t respond, staring ahead with a blank face. The trails of tears were disguised with the downpour and no more could fall. She had cried too much, there was nothing left in her. She just couldn’t summon the effort to cry more. She had been sat out here for a long time, just gazing unseeingly into the blackness. She was drenched to the skin, with her long dark hair slicked about her neck and shoulders, her clothes heavy and cold against her flesh. Logan stopped a short distance behind her, watching her with concerned eyes.
“Marie,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?” The first sign of a response was shown as Rogue blinked her aching eyes. Her head bowed as her eyes instead stared down at her lap. Her soaking white strands sunk down with the rest of her hair, hiding her pale face from view. Logan made his way to the stone wall she sat upon, swinging one leg over it so he was straddling it. The drop below was colossal, but Rogue, who had both legs dangling into nothingness appeared to pay it no mind. “C’mon, kid. Talk to me,” he continued softly. The rain continued to heavily slash down, the skies above issuing threatening rumbles as lightning zigzagged sharply across the turmoil of clouds.
Eventually Rogue turned her eyes upon him, though she wasn’t yet to respond. A gloved hand rose to push her hair from her face, a shaky sigh then coming from her lips. “Hey Logan,” she murmured weakly.
“Hey,” he whispered, watching her intently.
“I’m cold,” she told him quietly, her reddened eyes staring at him almost hauntingly from her pale face.
Logan frowned as he leant forward, his strong arms encircling the girl with care before he pulled her in towards him in a warm embrace. He pulled his denim jacket off his shoulders, then draping out about her shoulders before he continued to hold her. She was pulled in close against his upper torso, her legs hanging over his left thigh idly. Their closeness was rather intimate with her bundled up against his parted legs - but neither addressed it. She needed his comfort, his closeness. “Why are you sat out here, kid?” he asked her quietly, resting his chin on her soaked crown.
Rogue rested her head against his chest, her tired eyes closing. “I don’t know,” she answered in a soft voice.
“You don’t have to tell me y’know..” Logan said, “But I want to help you. I promise I’d take care of you, remember?”
He felt her nod her head slowly under his chin. “I remember,” she assured him. A soft sigh was heard, tears finding the energy to be released and began trickling down her cheeks once more.
“Marie..” Logan tightened his grip on her, soothingly rocking her form back and forth in his cradled arms. He hated not knowing. He wanted to help her, make things better. Not see her so distressed. “Is it Bobby?” he asked, feeling a stab of anger course through him.
There was a soft snort that answered him. “No,” she replied. Logan fell quiet, merely sighing as he continued to hold her. If she really needed to tell him, she would in her own time. Rogue kept herself buried tight into his embrace, her eyes shut, as though hoping everything may fade away from around her. Since the news from Beast, she had felt so lost, so separate from the rest of the mutants at the mansion. Her feet had left her to the upper floor balcony where she remained seated for hours. She lifted her head slowly from Logan’s chest, her eyes peering up as she stared through the rain at his concerned face. “I saw Beast today,” she began softly.
“Yeah?” Logan murmured, a hand lightly rubbing her opposite shoulder in a reassuring manner.
“He didn’t do anymore tests,” she continued, swallowing gently. “He’d already found somethin’ wrong.”
Logan pulled his head off hers slowly, leaning down to watch her face. “Marie?”
Rogue reverted back into her silence, her head turning as she stared out into the blackness at the rain-soaked grounds once more. Logan continued to rub at her shoulder, waiting with patience until she could continue. After a good while, she spoke, though her face remained expressionless as she watched the distance without focus. “I’m dyin’, Logan.”
“What?” Logan’s eyebrows abruptly shot upwards and he pulled back so he could see her face. “Marie, don’t say things like that. C’mon, kid. It can’t be that bad.”
“I’m dyin’,” she repeated softly, still staring blankly ahead.
But Logan shook his head, “Marie..”
“I’m dyin’, Logan. I am.”
“No! Marie, stop talkin’ shit like that!” Logan cried, roughly turning her body to face him. His hands harshly gripped either of her shoulders, eyes glaring down into her face.
“I am,” she said shakily, now gazing up at him. Her eyes fell shut as she gave a great gasp of breath. “He told me, Logan. He told me I’m dyin’.”
“No - no!” Logan’s grip tightened. “Marie!” She collapsed against his hold in heartbroken sobs, her form slumping weakly. Logan’s shocked gasps mixed in with her anguished moans, his arms gathering her up as he melted her quivering form against his chest. “No..”
Her gloved hands gripped the material of his shirt, burying her face into his chest as her inconsolable wails surrounded them in a cocoon of misery. “I’m dyin’,” she repeated in-between her shaking breaths. “I’m dyin’..”
“C'mon,” he muttered softly, his voice sounding a little weak. “Let’s get you inside. You’re freezin’.” He gathered her smaller body inside his arms, swinging his leg from off the stone wall so he could stand to his feet. Carrying her tight against him, he set off towards the double doors. Her cries continued, but were becoming tired once more, but her frail body merely shook with the sobs she needed out, even if she didn’t have the energy to cry anymore.
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