Revelations and Crashes
“YOU BASTARD!”
The loud cry shook the house, and everyone in a two mile radius of the Xavier Mansion could hear it. Something, or rather, someone had pissed of The Rogue. This was never a good thing. The mansion and its grounds became deathly silent, until the loud BANG, indicating a door being slammed off its hinges. Sometimes she just didn’t want to remember her own strength.
Inside the mansion a young woman came storming down the stairs, a door lying in the hall behind her, shattered. Everyone shrunk back from her; The Rogue’s temper was legend among the older and younger students. Not to mention her strength and deadly skin.
Reaching the bottom stairs she ran into a man with red sunglasses. He stopped her from storming any further and she glared at him.
“What the fuck do you want, Scott?” she asked, her tone of voice making it quite clear that she had no qualms whatsoever in throwing him through the nearest wall. He flinched, barely, but noticeably.
“What is going on? What ha-…” Scott looked up as another man appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing only his jeans…which wasn’t closed properly. Scott’s mouth formed a silent ‘o’, and Rogue glared up at the figure before pushing Scott out of her way.
“Rogue, wait, please! Let me explain!” the man began, but Rogue turned around and flew toward him, grabbing his throat and slamming him against a wall. She was still floating, and the mans feet hovered above the ground. Scott began running up the stairs calling her name.
“You ever touch or speak to me again, worm, I will kill you in the most horrible way imaginable.” She dropped him, shoved Scott into – and through – the nearest door, and landed deftly in front of the main door. By now tears were streaming down her cheeks.
~Rogue, what’s going on?~
~Piss of Xavier, I don’t want to talk to you now~ Professor Xavier sighed mentally. She’d always felt him as a father. Needless to say that this was a really bad situation if she was prepared to swear at him.
~Rogue, don’t go. Stay here. I’m sure we can sort this out.~
Rogue snapped, now making her way to the garage. ~Fuck you, Xavier. Don’t even try to convince me to stay. You go get the bastard and his whore’s, and let them explain why you just lost a team leader, K?~
~Please, Rogue…~
~No, Xavier.~ She sighed mentally. ~Don’t try to find me. Maybe I’ll come back, maybe I won’t. But I really just need a little time. To think.~
Charles Xavier sighed in his study. Once Rogue decided to put up her mental shields, there was no getting through. He’d taught her how to do that himself. In a way he was proud, but also a little sad. Rogue was a daughter to him, and he surely would miss her. He turned back to the matter at hand. He’d just lost the best leader he had since Scott, and someone had explaining to do.
~Scott, Hank, Jean, Remy, Ororo, Kurt, and every other damned team member in this place, get your ass’s into my office, NOW!~ the Professor rarely swore, if ever, and this little wake up call had everyone in his office within five minutes, some scarcely dressed.
“WHAT happened? Why did I just lose one of my best leaders?” his voice was calm, as was his face, but to those who knew him, there was a dangerous glint in his eye.
“It’s my fault sir. She caught me with Jean sir…” the man looked at the floor, blue marks forming where Rogue had grabbed him around his neck. Jean was also looking at the floor. She, at least, had an excuse for sleeping with him. She’d been severely drunk, and he was there. Liquor made her horny…and her fiancé, Scott, wasn’t there. Said fiancé was now glaring at both offenders.
“With Jean…” the professor repeated. His voice was dangerously calm. “And the previous time with Katherine and Jubilation? Didn’t you learn anything then?”
The young man stayed silent, facing the floor. “I’m sorry sir.” After a short lecture, the professor banned the man from the team, and dismissed them. Jean was immediately pulled aside by Scott for a nice long talk. The professor just looked out the window. He’d heard the car leave all but ten minutes ago.
Rogue had put up her mental blocks and tried desperately not to cry. She walked over to the garage, and looked at the cars parked there. Her eyes fell on the Jeep that Xavier had given her for her graduation the year before. She grabbed the keys, checked that her emergency bag was still in the there, before starting the jeep and driving from the place that had been her home for the past six years.
She didn’t want to think about what happened. But the more she tried to block out the images of the man she loved moving against Jean – JEAN! – the more intense they became and the more the tears fell down her eyes. Soon she could barely see where she was going, but she kept on driving. Night fell just as she crossed the border into Canada.
Her mind kept telling her that she was tired, that she needed to rest, but she refused. For hours into the night she kept driving. She wanted to put more distance between her and everything she wanted to forget at Westchester. Her eyes were still fogged from her constant crying, and in the dark she didn’t notice the large camper coming, until it was to late. With a deafening crash the two vehicles collided and Rogue hit her head against the steering wheel. She had just enough time to be thankful she’d worn her seatbelt, before she was enveloped in darkness.
The Wolverine stood with one hand against cage bars, in the other he held a dirty glass filled with whisky, and from his mouth protruded a cigar. The cage was surrounded by screaming men and whoring women, everyone there to bet on the fights. He would win again. He always did. That was why he was The Wolverine.
He heard the cage door open as another brave challenger stepped into the cage. “Tonight, you’re mine Wolvie!” he cried, to please the crowd mostly. But it only served to piss the Wolverine off. The announcer barely had time to introduce the fight before Wolverine flew forward, bringing an iron fist into the other mans gut. That simply left bringing his elbow down on the bent mans back, and the ass lay unconscious on the floor. The crowd was silent for a few seconds, before bursting out in joyful cries again.
When all the fights were over, every challenger beat, Wolverine went over to the bar to collect his winnings, and a few more drinks. He sat and drank just long enough to feel a little fuzzy, knowing that the moment he steeped outside his wonderful and cursed healing mutation would allow him to be fully sober again. How he hated the inability to become drunk. Good and properly pissed.
Taking the wad of cash from the counter and placing it in his worn leather jacket, he finished his last drink before walking out.
“We’ll see you next time Wolverine!” the bartender shouted after his greatest attraction, and he received only a growl in return.
Logan walked over to his Camper, got in and lit another cigar. Within seconds he was back on the road. He’d been travelling these roads for close to twenty years. He should know them well enough. Heading for the next circuit, hoping to make it before first light, he sped up.
He reached over for the radio and tried to pop in a cassette. Which refused to be inserted, and promptly fell on the floor. With another irritated growl he bent down, confident in his abilities to keep on steering, to pick up the cassette. Finally closing his hand around it he sat back up and looked back to the road. Even with his lighting reflexes, Wolverine couldn’t swerve out of the way fast enough and he felt himself flying forward as he collided with a jeep.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
I just woke up one morning and thought, "Hey, I feel like writing Fanfiction today!" So I did, and this was the result. It's not finished yet, but chapter two will be up in no time. ;)
*hint hint* Minksy LOVES reviews!
*hint hint* Minksy LOVES reviews!