A lone figure stalked down the darkened hallways on the third floor of the mansion, which housed Professor Charles Xavier's school for mutants. Due to the lateness of the hour the corridor was deserted so he didn't even bother to keep to the shadows. Even in the light of day it wouldn't have been necessary since he was easily recognizable, he hadn't changed that much. No one would have questioned his presence. They would simply nod at him or pretend that he wasn't there.
The man slowed his pace as he approached his destination, his hand splaying out against the thick wood of the bedroom door. With a quick glance in each direction down the hallway, he grabbed the doorknob and turned it slowly.
Stepping into the room, he quietly closed the door behind him then turned his attention to the sleeping figure across the room. Locking his eyes on the beautiful young woman he started toward the bed mesmerized by her appearance. Just the sight of her sleeping peacefully caused a tightening in his chest. He'd almost forgotten how beautiful she was, her pale, rounded features, her full, inviting lips, the thick mass of chestnut hair with the shocking streaks of white that framed her face.
The man stopped at her side and just stared down at her beautiful face, noticing the web of dried tears on her cheeks. He could see them clearly, even in the almost complete darkness of the room. Hell even if he couldn't see them he could smell them, the salty tang of tears completely permeated his senses. He watched her face, placid in sleep, for another few moments before his gaze shifted to the exposed skin of her arms, shoulders and chest surrounding the thin material of her nightgown. Slowly he lowered himself to sit beside her, his hand reaching toward her silky smooth shoulder.
As though sensing the impending touch, Rogue shifted in her sleep, rolling onto her back away from the man beside her.
Her visitor growled lightly then reached toward her again. The gloves that he had taken to wearing were there, out of habit, and would have protected him but suddenly he stopped, changing his mind. He hadn't come back for this. He had a more important agenda to attend to.
Rising carefully off the side of the bed, his eyes locked on the sleeping form, the man slowly turned and walked back to the door. With one last look over his shoulder, he studied her for another moment, inhaled deeply to ingrain the scent once again in his brain, then opened the door and stepped back into the hallway.
As he walked the short distance to the next door, his rage grew until it was almost blinding. How could anyone be so fucking stupid and cruel? He knew it was easy to see it that way now, hindsight and all, but he also remembered what it was like at the time. How confusing it had been to feel something so strong for someone who deserved someone so much better.
Steeling himself to what he knew he had to do, he reached slowly toward the doorknob, turning it quietly and pushing the door opened wide enough for him to slip inside. The man closed the door behind him carefully before he turned to regard the figure across the room.
Logan was mumbling softly in his sleep, his body jerking at inconsistent intervals beneath the twisted sheets covering him. His head thrashed slightly from time to time on his pillow and he'd groan loudly with the movement.
His visitor watched from just inside the room. He knew exactly what Logan was seeing behind his closed lids. He had seen it himself but this was the first time he'd seen it from that particular point of view, this was the first time he'd seen what happened to him when he relived the small, disjointed snippets of the atrocities that had been committed against him. Logan stared at his younger self in sympathy but also with growing anger. There was such a simple solution to making the nightmares go away, a solution that he himself had missed for so long but this time it would be different.
Moving stealthy to avoid detection for the time being, Logan moved toward his younger self, watching him suffer through the nightmare as he went. The bastard deserved to suffer for making the most important person in his life suffer, he'd realize that for himself in another ten years when he finally got the balls to be a man and confess his love to the only woman that ever really understood him. Rogue had seen inside of him, had seen into his mind and knew without a doubt what he was but she loved him anyway, without condition.
Standing now beside the bed, his jaw clenched with animal rage, Logan curled his hands into fists and he let the razor-sharp claws extend from their resting-places between his knuckles. The sound alone was enough to bring the man in the bed from his fitful sleep, bolting upright in his bed, an identical pair of claws springing from his own fists.
Now fully awake, his claws extended by instincts, Logan noticed that he was no longer alone in his room. Rolling out of bed opposite his visitor, he stared in shock at the man across from him. He only wondered for a second how it was possible to be staring at himself before he realized the answer. "Mystique," Logan growled bitterly fully prepared to pay the bitch back for everything her and Magneto had done to Marie.
Logan was a bit surprised when his opponent simply smiled then bolted for the door across the room. He followed without thinking about it, sprinting down the hallway passed Rogue's door toward the stairs then down them. He had to hand it to that blue bitch she was good. She had somehow managed to mask her scent into something similar to his. It wasn't like he had to track her that way though, she was obviously making it easy for him, always making sure that she stayed in his sight.
The fact that he was probably being led into a trap didn't mean a whole lot to Logan, neither did the pain in his feet as flesh was shredded by rocks and shrubs, he was too caught up in the idea of revenge. Wolverine had come out to play and he would be damned if he was going to let that bitch get away. He stalked his likeness into the forest surrounding the school grounds and herded him toward a glade near the center. Logan popped out into the opening only to find his twin standing loosely, one ankle crossed over the other, his arms crossed over his chest, claws still extended, and a smug grin plastered on his face.
"This time I'm going to finish you off, bitch," Wolverine vowed as he stalked forward, circling his prey with the skill of a seasoned hunter.
"I don't think so, bub," Logan responded dropping himself into a fight stance. "I didn't really come here to kick you ass like this, but it might be fun. And it's not like you don't deserve it."
Wolverine growled low in his throat, a threatening sound that shattered the silence of the night. "You're the one who's going to get their ass kicked," he retorted. "And believe me, I'll make it more painful than you would think possible, as payback for hurting Marie."
"You're the one hurting Marie, you son-of-a-bitch," Logan snarled as he sprang forward, slashing at his younger self.
A loud metal clang filled the darkness as adamantium claws clashed against each other. They struggled for a moment before Logan easily tossed his rival back thanks to his many more years of experience and training.
"I'm not who you think I am, Logan," he snapped at the younger man that shared his past as they circled each other some more.
Wolverine's eyes narrowed as he studied his opponent for weakness. If he could distract him with talk maybe he could get a better opening, which was probably exactly what the other was doing. "All right, then who the hell are you?" he asked.
Logan knew what he was doing, he was humoring him in the hopes of gaining the upper hand but it didn't matter as long as he listened. "Actually I'm you," he stated watching Wolverine's expression but also paying attention to his movements. "Or rather, you'll be me, in about twenty years."
A snort was the only reply as Wolverine launched an attack of his own. Stepping forward he dropped lower into his stance and slashed his claws at the person before him about chest high.
Despite the fact that Logan wanted to kick his ass for what he'd done to Marie over the years, he knew there was only one way to convince the hardheaded man he knew himself to be. Logan waited until the blow was almost to him, then he lowered his guard, letting the razor-sharp talons rip into his flesh. He saw the surprise in the face of his younger self at the action but it was nothing compared to his expression when the clang of metal against metal filled the glade.
The slicing of adamantium through flesh was halted abruptly as the former met a substance as indestructible as it was. Wolverine staggered back against the obstruction, his claws tearing from the tissue with the action. Even as he caught himself he could see the three deep gaping incisions starting to mend, the flesh seaming itself back together as if it had never happened. Suddenly the man's statement from earlier didn't seem so far fetched. It was clear that this wasn't Mystique, that bitch didn't have a metal skeleton and while many mutants had similar healing abilities, he had never come across one that looked exactly like him.
Willing to give the man a chance to explain his presence, Wolverine moved back a little further and waited for his wounds to heal. He watched the man before him closely though, not quite ready to out and out believe him at his point, but willing to just give him a few moments to make a case. Wolverine swept his gaze over him as he continued to heal, his eyes catching sight of something very familiar hanging from the man's neck. With his extraordinary senses, including his eyesight, Wolverine could read the inscription on the dog tag without moving closer but it didn't say what he expected it to.
Stalking forward suddenly, his claws once again flexed, Wolverine hooked a blade underneath the dog tag around the other man's neck and pulled it free, catching it with his other hand even as he retreated. His eyes strayed to the man to assure that he was still on the mend but not far enough along to retaliate, though he didn't look very pleased to have lost his tag, Wolverine let his eyes focus on the thing up close. Despite his misgivings, the inscription gave some credence to the man's claim. "Rogue, 03-03-2012," he read the engraved, adamantium tag aloud.
Finally catching his breath enough to speak, Logan responded. "Marie's 30th birthday," he gasped still not totally healed. "I gave that to her on that date, when I finally got the courage to tell her how I felt, how I've always felt about her," he continued slowly, managing a few words at a time but gaining strength with each word.
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Wolverine snapped not willing to face what this man was saying. Sure he loved Marie, he had since the first moment he laid eyes on her in that bar in Laughlin City. At first he figured it was the animal in him, wanting to claim yet another woman as his own but that soon was proved not to be the case. He remembered waking up at Xavier's school after being attacked by Sabertooth following being thrown from the windshield of his truck, his first thought, after the basic survival instinct, was of the girl that had been with him. He knew that had it been anyone else he wouldn't have gave a damn. Over the last year his feelings for her had only grown, which led him to return to Xavier's despite hating to be cooped up. There was only one problem with all that and it wasn't the fact that she was incapable of skin-to-skin contact. The problem was that she deserved more than he could give, she deserved someone with a whole lot less baggage, someone more her age and less worldly, someone better than him. On top of all that, he was afraid he'd hurt her, in ways far worse than he had when he'd impaled her with his claws. He was afraid that he'd let her close and then force her away. Most of all he was afraid that if he let her any closer and something happened to her, he wouldn't be able to go on.
"I always thought she deserved better than me," Logan said, repeating the thoughts of his younger self. "I still don't know what she ever saw in me but I thank God for whatever it was."
"Why are you here?" Wolverine demanded. He was quickly losing his temper over this whole line of discussion. It was hard enough to deny his feelings without having them voiced by someone else.
"I came here hoping to win back some of the years that I wasted denying what I felt," Logan explained. "The same years that you're denying the two of you now."
"You don't know shit," the younger man insisted harshly.
"I know a whole lot more than you think," Logan returned sharply. "Like tonight, after two weeks of avoiding Marie like the fucking plague, she corners you, demanding an explanation of your behavior," his voice was growing loud and angry as he continued. "Instead of telling her how you feel or just saying that you needed some time alone, you tell her, and I quote, 'It's none of your damn business, kid,' and then you demand the dog tags back."
Wolverine's nostrils flared in anger. How the hell did he know all that?
"Do you know what she did after she left the library?" Logan demanded of his younger self. Knowing that he didn't know and he wasn't going to guess, he told him. "She went back to her room and cried herself to sleep. As I found out later it was something that she did a lot, crying herself to sleep, and it was always because of us."
His mind swirling with information that was years ahead of its time, Wolverine turned his back on the man in front of him. He didn't want to hear any more, he didn't want to believe that his battle to do what he thought was the right thing for once in his life was exactly the opposite.
"I know this isn't easy for you to hear," Logan said more calmly, "it wasn't easy for me either but you have a chance to make it better, for all of us."
"I ... I can't," Wolverine whispered softly, his eyes closing against the threat of tears. He couldn't ruin Marie's life by being with her, he wouldn't.
His anger flaring once again, Logan stalked forward and slammed into the younger man, knocking him to the ground and pinning him there roughly. "You can and you will," he shouted. "If you don't I'll get rid of you and do it myself."
The very thought was like a knife twisting in Wolverine's stomach and he growled harshly as he lashed out. "You won't fucking touch her."
Logan actually smiled at the harsh threat as he pulled back and rolled to his feet. "That's more like it. I denied us years that should have been spent together, in each other’s arms, years that I could have been making love to her. Don't make the same mistake that I did."
Rising to his feet, Wolverine's eyes widened his surprise, was it really possible that someday he and Marie could actually make love. It wasn't the thought of never having sex again that kept him from telling her how he felt but knowing that someday he could make love to her made his heart soar. Even so this was all hard to believe, especially for someone like him that didn't believe in anything except himself.
"I won't let you waste any more time, Logan. The years Marie and I had weren't enough," Logan continued, turning his back on the younger man, his guilt making his voice tremble. "I want back the years that I lost. The years that I denied us."
"What do you mean the years that you HAD?" Wolverine wanted to know, not liking the sound of the statement much less the tone in which it was spoken.
The man from the future turned back to face the only man that could make his life worth returning to, tears streaming down his face. "Marie's gone now," he whispered cryptically. "I lost her a month ago."
"Lost her?" the young man repeated softly, certain that he didn't want to know what that meant judging by the other man's obvious grief.
Logan closed his eyes briefly then opened them and stared into identical hazel pools. "I couldn't get to her in time," he whispered. "She was gone before I could get there."
The pained howl that broke from Wolverine's throat, as he dropped to his knees, when he heard the news was loud enough to wake the dead.
In the house Rogue woke from an unusually vivid nightmare of uniformed men cutting in her flesh, an after effect from the last time Logan touched her, on the Statue of Liberty. It'd been a while she'd had one of the horrific nightmares, flashes of what had happened to Logan in some unknown lab for some unknown reason. She immediately moved to the bathroom, stopping in front of the sink. Rogue turned on the cold water tap and let it run for a minute as she glanced up at her reflection in the mirror. She wasn't surprised to find the webbing on her cheeks that showed the path of the tears she'd cried as she laid in her bed earlier that evening.
Studying her reflection, for the first time in a year, it looked different. For the first time in a year, there was no beaded chain around her neck and no tag that represented what was left of the most important thing in the world to her. Feeling the tears threaten again, Rogue closed her eyes for a moment before cupping her hand under the faucet and splashing her face with ice cold water. Repeating that several times, the front of her nightgown was soaked and she was shivering before she turned off the water and turned back to her bedroom.
Rogue had just stepped from her private bathroom, moving toward her bed when a distinctive howl pierced the quiet night. Her heart pounded wildly against her chest as she moved to the window. The cry, which sounded a lot like a wolf only with a human quality to it, had come from outside, somewhere in the forest. Without a second thought, Rogue turned and ran across her room, ripping the door opened and moving into the hall.
"What was that?" a half-asleep Jubilee asked Rogue as she ran passed her old shared room.
Not so much ignoring the question as not having heard it, Rogue hurried down the hall, her bare feet slapping against the hard mahogany flooring. She was down stairs and out the opened side door before Jubilee even finished the question.
Wolverine suddenly felt violently ill. Marie would die? Even knowing that it wouldn't happen for years didn't ease the pain in his chest. Suddenly his greatest fear was turned into his certain future. He thought about that for a moment, fighting the urge to run, but the man in front of him stopped that. This man was offering him twelve more years with Marie than he had, could he really throw that away? Sure it would be devastating when Marie died but would it be any less devastating if she died tomorrow? Wouldn't it be worse if he denied them being together at all? Looking up Wolverine found Logan staring at him. "How did she die?"
The pain in the older man's face spoke volumes about the love that he shared with the woman with untouchable skin. "There was a mission," he began quietly, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Carefully he explained the mission in broad terms before looking down to meet the gaze of his younger self. "She died protecting a friend," he concluded his tone accepting. "I just wish that I'd gotten there a little sooner."
The sound of something rather large thrashing through the forest behind them drew both men's attention. Each consulted his enhanced senses and both came to the same conclusion. "Marie," they said in unison. Their eyes met for a brief moment and an understanding passed between them without the need for words.
With a nod, Logan turned and ran for the thick of trees to the far side from where Rogue was coming. He stopped just inside the tree line and turned back just as the young woman appeared at the edge of the clearing.
"Logan?" Rogue cried, her breath coming quickly from exertion and fear, as she saw him kneeling in the center of the small clearing. He was clad only in a pair of school sweat pants, his chest was bare, the familiar shape of his dog tag gleaming in the moonlight, and like her, he wasn't wearing any shoes. Moving closer, Rogue's concern grew as he just knelt there, staring up at her with dark eyes. "Logan, are ya awl rahght?" she asked stopping at his side.
The man from the future skirted the edge of the dense forest until he had a better view of the couple. Inhaling deeply he reveled in the scent of the woman a short distance from him, aside from tonight, this had been the first time in a month that he'd smelt it from the woman herself, not some forgotten piece of clothing.
Logan wasn't certain where to begin. There was so much to be said; so much that he needed to tell her. At the moment it was all he could do just to remember to breathe with her standing over him like that. Logan immediately noticed the heaving of her chest beneath the thin and, interestingly enough, wet nightgown she was wearing.
Rogue waited for some response, fully aware of Logan's eyes on her. After what seemed like several minutes but was probably less than one, she decided that he wasn't going to respond. Apparently whatever had him howling in the hidden glade in the middle of the night was none of her damn business either. Still stinging from their earlier encounter, Rogue started to turn to head back to the house when a strong hand wrapped around her gloved wrist.
"Don't go, Marie," Logan begged softly.
Turning back to face him, Rogue noticed the pleading look in his eyes as well. Slowly she lowered herself to her knee in front of him. "What is it, Logan?" she asked her voice practically begging for an answer.
Logan closed his eyes tightly, his lips trembling. "I'm sorry, Marie," he whispered gently his eyes still closed.
The despair in his tone tearing at her heart, Rogue slowly lifted her hand to rest gently against Logan's cheek, her glove and his sideburns protecting him from her touch. "Ya ain't got nothin' ta be sorry 'bout, Logan," she assured him tenderly as he leaned his face tightly against her palm. "Ya don't owe me anythin'."
"But I do, Darlin'," he insisted opening his eyes to meet hers as his hand came up to rest against the one with which she cradled his cheek. "I owe us both. First I owe you an apology though. I know that I've acted like an ass ever since I got back and I'm sorry for that. I've had a lot on my mind and I mostly took it out on you this evening."
"Don't apologize, Logan," Rogue told him carefully pulling her hand from between his hand and his face. It was just a little bit too intimate for the type of relationship they shared and she didn't want to get caught reading more into the situation. "Ya were rahght, it wadn't any a mah bidness. Ah just wanted ta make sure that Ah hadn't done somethin'."
"Oh, Marie, it wasn't you, it was me," Logan returned tenderly grasping her hand as she removed it from his cheek.
Rogue was starting to feel a little overwhelmed and she rose shakily to her feet, Logan still holding onto her hand. "Ferget about it, Logan, okay? We're still friends."
"Yeah, friends," Logan repeated as he released her hand, nodding slightly, his voice suddenly losing all of it's usual attitude. "If that's what you want."
"Of course that's what Ah want. Why wouldn't Ah wanna be yer friend?" Rogue demanded softly.
Logan climbed to his feet and closed the distance between them with one long stride, his hands coming up to rest on her hips. "Is that all you want?"
The question along with Logan's close proximity caused Rogue's heart to skip a beat. What was he getting at? She didn't dare to hope that this was exactly what it appeared to be. "Wha'da ya mean?"
"I mean," Logan paused and dipped his head slightly, his eyes straying to where his hands curled around her hips. This was harder than he'd thought it'd be but if the man he'd met tonight was any indication it would be well worth it. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to be more than friends?" he finally asked.
Rogue was stunned for the second time that night. First when Logan had demanded his tags back two weeks after she offered them to him and he'd refused. Now he was standing here asking her... well it sounded like he was asking her if she wanted a more intimate relationship. "Logan, I..."
"I love you, Marie." Logan's sudden admission cut off whatever it was that she was going to say. "I want us to be together, if it's what you want."
Staring at the man before her in awe, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth even as tears gathered in her eyes. "More than anythin'," Rogue assured him, meeting his bright hazel eyes with dark brown ones. "Ah love ya too."
Logan wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and hold her tightly against him but considering he wasn't wearing a shirt and her arms and a good portion of her chest were bare as well, it was pretty much out of the question. Instead he settled for leaning forward and kissing her tenderly on the top of the head as his hands moved from her hips to wrap around her hands.
Rogue shivered as his hot breath tickled her scalp. She wished she'd taken time to put on her robe so that she could wrap her arms around him.
"Come on, Darlin', let's get you inside and into something warmer," Logan suggested, releasing one hand and pulling her into motion with the other.
From the border between the forest and the glade, the older Logan watched as the couple made their way back toward the mansion that would remain their home. He couldn't help but smile as he was swarmed with an influx of new experiences, twelve years worth of memories that hadn't existed a moment ago. With a small sigh, Logan turned and headed back to the point where he'd return to his own time.
Jubilation Lee frantically paced the hallway outside the infirmary on the lower level of Xavier's mansion. She still couldn't believe everything that had happened over the last few hours. Shaking her head, Jubilee considered again how truly dangerous what they did was and how lucky they were that things like this didn't happen more often. Well most of them were lucky anyway.
The worse of it was that she knew it was her fault. She had been Morph's target until a brave and selfless act saved her in favor of another. Jubilee paused in her pacing and looked back down the corridor at the rest of the group, her eyes falling on one member in particular, the one leaning against the wall with their eyes closed, tears streaming down their face. Despite their obvious pain, no one was trying to offer any comfort.
Steeling herself with a fortifying breath, Jubilee started slowly toward her teammate, fighting the threat of tears. "I'm so sorry," she offered pathetically as she stopped in front of the silent mourner.
Eyes opened and looked at her but they were almost completely devoid of emotion, just glassy and lifeless.
The tears started to flow then and Jubilee's words became a jumbled mass. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. If I'd only know what was coming I could have ... I don't know, I could have done something. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." Strong arms wrapped Jubilee into a tight hug as she continued to cry and ramble. "Can you ever forgive me? I'm so sorry."
"Rogue?"
The hail from the open doorway behind Jubilee drew her attention and she shifted the smaller woman aside to move toward Jean.
"You can come in now," the redheaded doctor informed her with a gentle smile.
Rogue started for the door but was stopped abruptly by a hand on her arm. "Tell Logan ... well tell him thanks," Jubilee instructed before giving Rogue's arm a squeeze then releasing her.
"Ah will," she nodded turning to follow Jean into the sterile medical ward. As soon as she entered, she could see Logan on the diagnostic table across the room. "How is he?" she whispered to Jean as they moved toward him.
"He's good," Jean assured her, nodding. "He's resting now but he should back on his feet in couple of hours. How are you holding up?"
"Ah'm okay," Rogue returned thoughtfully. "Ah've just been goin' over ever'thin' in mah mind, ya know. Ah still don't where Logan came from. Ah remember seeing Morph moving after Jubilee and Ah headed that way then Logan just appeared outta nowhere. It was almost as if he knew what was gonna happen."
Jean nodded again, she knew how important answers like that could be. "The important thing is that everyone's all right."
With a nod of her own, Rogue walked the rest of the way to Logan's bedside by herself, settling into the chair that Jean had the foresight to leave for her. She had barely gotten seated and took his hand in hers when glossy, hazel eyes fluttered open.
"Hey," Rogue greeted with a watery smile.
"Hey," Logan returned weakly. "You're all right."
"Ah'm fine. Yer the one who got a little banged up," she teased. "Jubilee sends her thanks by the way."
"I'm just glad that I was there this time," he whispered softly before closing his eyes once again. It was okay to rest now, Rogue was safe and alive and they were together.
THE END!
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is a companion piece to "Future Shock". It is not necessary to read the other, as this story can stand alone, its just another possible line of events. Thanks Diane for the idea.