They died instantly. All that work planting them and it was nothing but a waste of her time. Back in Meridian the roses would have thrived, but here in the hard patch of ground that the professor had given her in the garden, they did nothing but shrivel into crispy little buds. She sighed and set her tiny hand held shovel down on the ground next to her.
This was never going to be home. Home was a house with a garden and a white picket fence. Home was where you could go outside and feel the warm southern sun on your face and wave to your elderly neighbor, Mrs. Bobbett, who brought you cookies every Saturday after she'd gone on a cooking spree. Home was family and friends. Home was where you could shut the door to your room and still hear the reassuring sounds of your mother practicing the piano down stairs. But that was gone. As soon as she became 'different' the world around her had changed. She was cast out of the one place she called home, and it seemed here, in this haven for the 'different', every time she tried to make it in the least bit hers, it would just elude her grasp.
She sat there with her knees up against her chest and sobbed. It was the last straw, the breaking point. Four years here and nothing to show for it. A dark room on the second floor, a seat for her at the teachers table for meals. Things that were nice, but not home, and never would be.
Logan walked silently along the path through the garden. It was the only way to the forest behind the mansion. He had returned to the mansion a little over a month ago after being gone for nearly four years. He had searched high and low for a link to his past and had finally found one buried in the snow covered mountains of Canada in a remote area called the Clarian Valley. He knew what he had been, and he didn't like it. He had been a monster, but before that he had been a father, and a husband. That was gone, too. That life had been murdered along with the people in it. Only thing was…the memories he had acquired after finding the truth seemed like distant images, like a movie he had seen so many years ago that he couldn't remember what exactly had happened. And that scared him. The fact that he didn't and couldn't miss his once loved ones, his once home.
He walked along the brick walk that would sooner or later run into the woods. The sun was at his back as it went down. He loved the outdoors just as it started getting dark. The sound of the nocturne animals readying for their nights, the way the air would become crisper and cleaner just as the last color faded from the sky.
As he kept walking he heard the faint sounds of sobbing and the tart tinge of tears filled his nostrils. He knew the scent of the woman who's hiccupie whimpering was echoing in the garden. He made a detour to where her cries were coming from. He found her slumped against the wall with her head in her hands.
"What's the matter, Rogue?" His voice was more terse than he had hoped it would be, but then again, he wasn't used to being so sensitive.
"I…I just wanted my roses." His heart lurched at the pain in her voice and the fact that she hadn't even looked up at him.
"All this over some roses?" he asked as he slid down against the wall to sit next to her on the hard, infertile earth.
"I just wanted something that was mine, Logan. I just want some home." She leaned her head against his knee and he could feel her tears seeping through his jeans.
"Some home? Marie, darlin', home is only what you make it." He gently started stroking her soft brown hair, his skin protected from hers. "How do roses make you feel at home?"
"Well," she started, her voice muffled by her face being covered by his knee, but he was still able to understand her words. "Back in Mississippi, Mama had a rose garden right outside my room. Every mornin' during the summers I would go out and read my books by those rose bushes. It was a way I felt closer to myself, and maybe a little closer to my home in general."
"Now, darlin'. Why would you wanna go back to that. They were roses, and why would you want somethin' that reminded you of a place that was only your's until you became too different to live in it. That doesn't sound like a home to me, Marie. That sounds more like a circumstantial livin' arrangement, not a home." Had that come out of him? Sure he had a soft spot for the kid, but he never thought he could have said those words. But when he looked into those big brown eyes he couldn't help but try to comfort her.
She looked up at him and gave a fleeting smile. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a grin and he pulled her a little closer to his side. She gently laid her head against his shoulder and he rested her chin on the top of her head. She felt right in his arms, like she fit.
"So I don't need the roses to feel at home?" she asked with a sad sigh.
"Nah. You don't need roses." He breathed…~All you need is me~ he thought to himself. His smile widened a little more with the realization he had come upon. No matter what his past had been, it didn't matter anymore, because it was only the past. Now was all that mattered. Now, and the future.
"Yeah. I don't need roses. Not anymore." ~All I need is you.~ The two sat on the ground as the dark night fell upon them and when Marie couldn't keep her eyes open. He carried her back to the small room which she had claimed as her own and gently set her down in her bed. He gave on last lingering look at her on the bed before closing the door behind him.
Roses didn't matter, but they could work on a home.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Story Notes:
This is the first story I've posted on this list. It was spur of the moment and not very good so don't judge me on this. Wait a little longer and I'll submit something that might better represent me. Thanks!!!!!!