Make-up smeared. Pretty dress torn to shreds. Heel of the left sandal as broken as your world. Heavy torrent of rain pelting down on what is left of the garden.
“They were supposed to graduate, not get massacred!”
“I’m very aware of it, Logan.”
“How the hell you didn’t see this coming?”
“I’m merely a telepath, not omniscient.”
“No shit?”
“Logan… Logan? Where are you going?”
“To Hell! And I’m taking Rogue with me!”
“Logan! I don’t think… Logan!”
“I brought her here… I brought each and every one of those I found here because this was supposed to be a safe place. You were supposed to take care of them. You failed, Xavier.”
“We all failed this night. But in the future we will do better. We know exactly what they’re capable of now. We can…”
“There is no fucking ‘we’ anymore. Fucking everybody’s dead! And by tomorrow morning they’re going to come in and finish off the rest of us. I’m not planning to stick around and give them another chance. Goodbye, professor.”
----------------------------------------------------------
Walking. Walking down the road. Still raining. Cold. Dark. Dark is good. They can’t see you in the dark if you stay real quiet. Quiet as a mouse. Try not to draw attention. Broken glass on the ground. Watch it. Watch it. There’s no doctor to patch you up if you cut your feet.
“There’s a motel few miles up this road. I’ll get us a room. We need to rest.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll take care of everything, don’t you worry.”
“Yes.”
“Cold?”
“Yes.”
“Here, take my coat. It’s not much but we’ll buy us some new clothes first thing tomorrow, okay?”
“Yes.”
More walking. More rain. Rickety buildings. Old man behind the counter. Doesn’t even look at you twice, just takes the money and hands over the key. More money shoved over the counter. Extra blankets. Small kettle and a can of soup. Even more money. Extra padlock gets added to the pile. Shiny claws land on top of it. Electric heater appears as well.
----------------------------------------------------------
“Okay… There should be fresh towels and some soap in the bathroom. You can have the shower first. I’ll warm up the soup while you’re in there, okay?”
“Yes.”
“Well, go head. Just open the door.”
“Yes.”
Shabby towels on the towel rack. They’re cold, but they’re clean. Bar of soap on a small shelf, half melted. Will get under your fingernails when you peel it loose from there. Shoes off. Socks off. Panties off. Dress…
“Close the door, kid.”
“Yes.”
“Are you… Fuck, of course you’re not all right… You need a hand in there?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Just wait a sec. I’ll take this off from the stove first. We can warm it up later.”
“Yes.”
Dress off. Bra off. Turn on the shower. Cold water. Don’t scream, just turn the handle. Turn it now; it’ll warm up soon. Don’t look at him. Don’t try to touch him. He has clothes on, but you’re dangerous.
“I think I saw a washcloth somewhere in here… There it is.”
“Yes.”
“Can you hand me that soap, kid?”
“Yes.”
“Would you do that now? Before all the warm water runs out?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’m going to wash your back now. Water’s good? It’s not too hot?”
“Yes.”
“Is it good or too hot?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus Christ. You’re a mess… Well, it doesn’t feel hot to me. And I guess you’d be complaining if it were burning you. Turn over a bit. Raise your arms.”
“Yes.”
Raspy cloth. Black leather gloves sticky and wet against your skin. Water tastes salty.
“That’s it… Just let it all out…”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to have to wash your hair tomorrow. I need some warm water too.”
“Yes.”
“Okay… You’re going to have to wash yourself more properly by yourself when you’re up to it. Come on, let’s get you dried up.”
“Yes.”
More raspy cloth. Then something soft and warm.
“Here. You can have my shirt. That should keep you warm enough until that goddamned heater gets started.”
“Yes.”
“Get under these blankets. I’m going to take a quick shower, then we can eat. Don’t worry, if you fall asleep, I’ll wake you up when it’s time to eat.”
“Yes.”
----------------------------------------------------------
Shower running in the bathroom. You’re crying, but it doesn’t matter. It’s okay to cry. You can hear him crying, too, through the door he closed. Just lay here on the bed and wait. He’ll take care of everything.
----------------------------------------------------------
“It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Yes.”
“So? What are you waiting for? Pick up the spoon.”
“Yes.”
“Start to eat.”
“Yes.”
“For God’s sakes… Give me that. Open your mouth.”
“Yes.”
“And swallow. Don’t suffocate.”
“Yes.”
Red soup. Red soup from a white plate. Lukewarm red soup from a white plate. Sweet. Salty. Hard to swallow. It’s just soup. It’s just a plate. Not Bobby. Not his blood and skull. Keep it down. You’ll need it. He needs to see you eating. Don’t try to smile. It’ll make the soup dribble down your chin. Raspy towel. Better now. But there’s soup all over your shirt. Plate goes away.
“We’ll have some more at the morning.”
“Yes.”
“Scoot over a bit. It’s time to go to sleep.”
“Yes.”
“I’m keeping my clothes on. I have socks on and my gloves.”
“Yes.”
“Just… You don’t have to worry touching me. I’m pretty much covered.”
“Yes.”
“Good night, kid.”
“Yes.”
----------------------------------------------------------
Strong arms around you. Warm breath against the back of your neck. Solid wall of muscle cocooning you. Rain pelting against the window outside. Darkness.
“I’m sorry. I should have taken off with you right after we got you back from Magneto.”
“Yes.”
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Weird bunny found "raid of the mansion" -scene once again. X-Men managed to fight off Stryker's men, but at what cost? I took slight liberties at Logan's association with Xavier in this one.