There’s no need to argue anymore
I gave all I could
But it left me so sore
And the thing that makes me mad
Is the one thing that I had
I knew, I knew, I’d lose you
You'll always be special to me
And I remember
All the things we once shared
Watching T.V. movies
On the living room armchair
But they say it’ll work out fine
Was it all a waste of time
‘Cause I knew, I knew I’d lose you
You’ll always be special to me
Will I forget in time
You said I was on your mind
There’s no need to argue, no need to argue anymore
There’s no need to argue anymore
So special.
It had been three years. Three years and one day since Rogue first met the X-men and now she really was part of the team, uniformed and everything. The next mission that occurred, she was going on and she couldn't have been happier. Xavier was proud, Scott was encouraging and Kitty and Jubes were exceedingly jealous. Everyone complimented her on completing the training and evaluations in such a short space of time. Everyone except the person she actually wanted the congratulations from.
Logan.
Rogue just couldn’t understand it. Ever since a beaming Jean announced she was joining the team a few days ago, Logan had been like a bear with a sore head, moping around in a continual sulk. At first he’d avoided her, making excuses to evade her at a moment's notice, and now he was running around spreading the occasional vicious rumour. And they weren’t his usual humorous rumours either, normally about Scott and his days of the week underwear, but underhanded, derogatory rumours. And worst of all they were about Rogue. He'd been telling anyone who'd listen that she wasn't up to the job, that she couldn't handle herself, wasn't fast enough, strong enough, even that she would destroy the group dynamic. And Rogue had had enough. She had thought that their relationship was good; they'd had some ups and downs in the past, but they'd been resolved. He cared for her and she cared for him, it was obvious to everyone. They were like brother and sister, drinking buddies and fighting partners, but now Logan was marring that with his campaign of vicious whispers.
Rogue thought about confronting him, but she knew he'd either deny it or let rip, getting so angry he'd start breaking furniture. She knew that Logan would never back down when it comes to a fight and she wasn't prepared for a bloodbath. She was sure he'd lash out like a wild animal, something he seemed to be turning into recently, with his foul temper and unpredictable moods. It had all started around the time she told him she loved him. He had laughed it off, patted her on the head and disappeared for four months. You know, the standard Wolverine reaction. By the time he returned, she'd managed to stop crying herself to sleep at night and to out grow her so-called crush, enough at least to get on with something that resembled life. He came home and slowly, things became less awkward. They grew to be friends again and they both carried on as if nothing had ever happened. Rogue worked hard at banishing all the romantic feelings and concentrated on controlling her power, learning that she could touch. She trained harder and thought ahead, to the rest of her life.
And the rest of her life had led her here, to helping save people from a danger they were unaware of, secret battles and invisible oppression. Stopping the harassment she had once witnessed. But right now, SHE was the one suffering. Suffering at the hands of the man who had sworn to protect her. He was the man who had promised to shield her from this bittersweet pain, like blankets of barbed wire. She needed to distance herself from him, for a while at least, so she could think in peace. So she went exploring. She ventured into the old west wing of the mansion, through rooms full of antiques, clutter and junk, all covered in cobwebs, until she came across it. Her new room.
Being just two doors away from a broody Logan was starting to feel suffocating, as she was always alert in case she bumped into him and was now trying her best to stay out of his way. The perfect solution was to move further afield and this place was perfect. The room was large, with high ceilings and arched windows. All that it required was a good cleaning. She did it secretly, mopping floors and touching up the painted walls, to make the place habitable. She was forced to confess her little plan to the Professor and enlisted the ever-loyal Storm to help her move her stuff in. She managed to ferry the boxes and trinkets, along with her clothes, without being seen.
Her first minor mission was complete in the space of one week. The room was almost finished and as Rogue looked around, her smile faded as she realised she'd forgotten one key item. Her journal. She kept it hidden behind one of the loose wooden wall panels in her old room and so she went to retrieve it.
Walking back through the mansion, Rogue noticed how late it was. It had to be after midnight, because there was hardly any noise. She thought about tomorrow morning, when everyone would find out about her little move and wondered what they'd say. Nothing happened in this school without comment. Everyone would know when she went down to breakfast. Everyone except Logan. He'd be the last to know, since he'd been getting up later and later and drinking more and more.
Rogue walked into her old room, swinging the door shut behind her as she crossed the empty floor to the south wall. She was moving the panel when she heard breathing. Air being blown from lungs that weren't her own. She stopped what she was doing and turned to see a fuming Logan, standing in front of the closed door. He looked furious, his jaw clenched in frustration as he moved to stand in the centre of the bare room.
“And just WHEN were you going to tell ME?'' he snarled, his nostrils flaring as he stalked forward.
“Is now too late?'' Rogue spat out sarcastically, grabbing the journal and gliding past Logan and out the door. He chased after her, a steady stride through the hallway and up the stairs, still a little taken aback by her sass. The dimly lit, spiralled, stone staircase was so tight that Logan had to turn sideways or be wedged in-between the brick because of his broad chest. Marie pummelled the stairs with her bare feet, trying to get away, but in the darkness she heard him whisper, “Why are you doin' this, Marie?”
Rogue looked back at Logan, his face masked by the shadows and she was glad she couldn't see him because it gave her some kind of courage, unable to observe his reaction.
“Well, you obviously don't want me around anymore, Logan…” She started walking again and Logan followed, waiting for the rest of her sentence. “And you know what, that's fine by me!” They exited the stairwell and Logan looked at the dusty maze of corridors, sneering at Marie's choice of new residence.
“That's not true and you know it. I do want you around, I never said I didn't,” Logan argued as Rogue threw open her door and stormed into her new bedroom, throwing her journal down on the bed and circling on the spot to face a confused Logan, who was now leaning on her doorframe.
“Fine, you didn't say that, but what about the other things you said? About me bein' on the team. All those nasty little whispers, the gossip, the talkin' behind my back! I thought you were my friend!” she yelled, walking to the window, folding her arms over her chest and turning her back on him as she gazed out to the trees, trying to focus on taming her trembling body.
Logan moved to sit on her bed. Looking at her rigid back, he sighed, “I said all those things BECAUSE I'm your friend, because-”
“So you admit it!” she spun around, her eyes wild.
“Yes, I admit it! I don't want you on the team!” he roared, standing up and self-consciously running a hand through his hair. Rogue shifted her crossed arms uncomfortably and tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision.
She shuffled her feet as she asked, her throat dry, “Why?” She looked down at the floor, anticipating his answer.
Logan walked forward, stopping before her and raising her chin with a cold hand. He locked her eyes with his own and spoke softly. “Do you know what makes me a good fighter, Marie? It's the fact that…I don't care if I live or die. I know it's hard to kill me, but what WOULD finish me off, once and for all, is if…is if…” he swallowed nervously, “…something happened to you.” Rogue looked deep into his eyes, the darkest and purest hazel divulged everything, gave it all away and she knew he meant it.
“I lost you once, Marie, I don't wanna lose you again.” Rogue licked her lips, attempting to speak as Logan stared down at her intensely, tenderly stroking her cheek with rough fingers.
“When did you lose me, Logan? What do you mean?” she whispered, her brows furrowing, exhibiting her confusion.
“The day you told me you loved me.” The words hung in the air, full of possibilities and horrific conclusions. “I should have said it back.” Logan watched her face changing, tears rolling down her smooth cheeks, wetting the skin and she stepped back to perch on the window ledge, support for her weakening legs. Logan noticed there was something in her eyes other than tears. She stared up at him, a demeanour of helplessness and anger and the craving for explanation. The hardest part he'd already said, and it was time to disclose the rest.
“I did love you. As much as you thought you loved me, but you were young and I couldn't let myself believe that you knew what you were sayin'. You were too good for me, Marie, I would've ended up hurtin' you and I'd die before I caused you pain. So I did what I do best. I walked away. But when I came back you were with that shit, Remy, and you were-- sorta happy. I settled for bein' your friend ‘cause as a lover, I had lost you.”
He took a breath and Rogue grasped the opportunity to speak, “You didn't lose me, Logan. You gave me away.” She stared up at him, blinking back the tears in the blue moonlight. “Why now? Why after all this time, Logan? You've been back for eight months. And you made it clear that all you wanted was my friendship.” She tipped her head down, looking at the old floorboards and hiding behind a fall of hair.
“I always wanted more from you, Marie, but you were datin' him, so my friendship was the only way of always bein' near you. Then when Remy left, I'd played the friend so well and made the illusion so complete, that even I believed it. And then when you joined the team and I saw you fightin' Scott, I sorta realised how grown up you really were, how beautiful you'd grow to be and I wanted you, even more than before. I envied the past and despised my regrets and I realised. How things pivot on passed moments. And it left me numb inside to think of my life without you in it. Us, together, it's all I knew. And all I ever want to know… please, Marie.” Rogue lifted her head, eyes wide and glassy from crying. She smiled feebly as Logan knelt in front of her, parting her legs and moving in-between them to take her hands in his own.
“And what if I'm not the same person now, Logan? I'm not Marie anymore. What if I'm not in love with you now?” she sniffed, tilting her head to the side and caressing him with ghostly eyes. Logan gazed up at her, a familiar fear paralysing him as she spoke in a haunting whisper. “Once upon a time, I would have hollowed out the fabric of my heart to fit you in. That's how much I loved you then, Logan. I gambled my whole life on telling you how I felt, and I lost. I could have screamed down the heavens, but I seemed destined to lose you. I washed my hands of it all once and I won't dirty them again. YOU made me believe I'd misplaced my feelings, that it was all a stupid teenage crush and I got on with my life. I convinced myself that you truly didn't care and I decided I didn't need anyone at all. And now you' re telling me I was wrong, that all that strugglin' was for nothing! I won't accept that. I can't chance believin' that you actually do love me!” Rogue closed her eyes as Logan squeezed her hands tightly before letting go and standing up, towering above her, from in-between her thighs.
“That's not true, Marie. And that's not fair. I know you. You'd chance the whole world and more on love. It's the kind of woman you are!” he bit out, baring his teeth in rage.
“Not fair? Life isn't fair, Logan, you and I are livin' testaments to that! And you think you know me? Just what the hell do you know about me, Logan?” She hissed through gritted teeth as she stood to equal him in presence, “Tell me!”
“I know how you long to be genuinely loved, because I see it in your eyes when you watch Jeannie and Scooter kissin'. I know because I see it on your face, how it matters when I leave and how it don't when I return. I know you like I know myself, because part of me is still in there. I know you cry for no reason and you sing when you're alone…” he paused, taking a deep breath as he grabbed her arms and pulled her to him, their faces just inches apart, “I know you were banished from an unforgivin' world and that you're still afraid of the body you own. I know you love, beyond all your attempts not to, I know you love me. I know I love you. More than you'll ever know!” He stopped, searching her eyes for signs of resistance as he wound an arm around her tiny waist and leant in to kiss her.
Her lips were hot, wet and yielding under the working of his mouth, retuning his illustration of desire with the fervent movements of her tongue. Logan dragged his hands up from her waist and ran them through her glossy hair, wrapping his fingers in the dark strands as he invaded the warm cavern of her mouth. His eyes still closed, he cupped her fragile face with the palms of his hands as he nipped her lips with his teeth, concern evident in the devoted kisses at the feel of her skin, damp with tears that he had instigated.
Rogue refused to comprehend what was happening to her. Her heart was silently warring with her brain and all she could concentrate on was the sensation of Logan plundering her mouth and the tantalizing rasp of his rough hands on her face and body. Her heart was pounding, signalling the catastrophic effect that only Logan could create with a touch. He brushed her teeth with his thrusting tongue and she sensed chilling shards of electricity pulse through her flesh and run up her spine. She was entranced.
Logan rubbed his lips along hers, lovingly pecking the corners of her mouth and breathed sizzling air against her lips. “Marie.”
That one word was his unmaking.
Rogue took a step back, pulling her face from his hands and placing an icy space between them. She rocked slightly on her feet, as her expression turned both hard and forlorn. Her eyes brimmed over with more salty water and she spoke in a broken and hushed murmur, “I'm not Marie anymore, Logan. The day you left, part of me died. Marie died. And I can't revive her now. Rogue buried Marie. Buried her so deeply I can hardly hear her scream. And you know, she does scream, Logan. Every time you look at me, the way you're looking at me right now, she tries to claw her way to the surface, but I won't let her. I can't afford to, I can't bear that. Because I know you're gonna make me love you so deeply, that when you leave me again, all of me will die. Maybe you were worth that once, but now my life has more than just you in it.”
Logan eyes widened and bored into her. She wasn't the same person he'd found in the back of his camper in Canada. She was harder, colder and he felt to blame. He looked at her face, she wore a mask of pity, covering her own disappointment and desperation.
“You've changed.” It was a sadistic snarl and his body tensed, standing straight, but it was all he could compel himself to say.
“I am what you have made me.” She looked away from him as she said it, ashamed at her attempt to hurt him, though she doubted she could bruise him as profoundly as he had her. She let out a long sigh, closing her eyes and causing more tears to spill down her cheeks. “It's over, Logan.” It was blunt and cruel and cut him more severely than any weapon ever could. “One of us should leave.” Rogue looked over his shoulder to the open door, hinting her need to be alone.
“I'll be in my room,” Logan bit out as he started towards the door, but her words halted him, stopping him in his tracks.
“No. I meant, one of us should leave…the school, the mansion, here. For good.”
He couldn't look back at her over his shoulder, he didn't know if he could stand what he'd see there. A broken woman, imprisoned in her own body and now it had nothing to do with her mutation. She was dead inside and he had had a hand in killing her.
“I'll go pack my bags." He whispered. "Goodbye…Rogue.”
He marched out of the room, his stomach knotting, pretending not to hear her muffled sobs.
Rogue crumpled to the floor, weeping. He had called her Rogue.
He would leave and she'd return to being all alone. Surrounded by people and all alone.
Isolated again, but this time, it was self-inflicted.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to victoria p for beta-ing. Inspired by the Cranberries song ‘No need to argue’. Lyrics included, as usual, and brace yourself people, there is no happy ending! Shock horror!