Ever Truly Longed For
Scott Summers:
Until the moment I actually die, I am perfectly sure that I will never stare eternity in the face as closely as I did at that moment.
In that second, I spent every penny of whatever trust I had ever established between myself and Logan. I don't think he himself really intended anything other than slicing me in half on his way to the tank that stood behind me.
But somehow, he didn't. Those adamantium blades whistled past, an inch from my gut, and for a second I couldn't even breathe, let alone speak. The clearest thing I remember is Storm's face, looking stunned and terrified at what was about to happen. I realized later he actually sliced my uniform. But he didn't kill me.
He held back, just that much. And he spoke to me, even as he stared past me. “If you want to live, get out of the way.”
And I managed the words that kept me alive. Kept both of us alive, me and Storm. “Logan-look at her. Look at the setup.” I had to gulp for air. “She's not dead.”
I saw his head turn. I saw him take a breath. And then Ororo spoke instead of me.
“It's true. She lives.” There was a strange metallic sound, and then Storm was there, wrapping her arms around Logan and holding him back with everything she had. “Logan-listen to him. Only listen.”
I started talking-fast. “Look. There's a support system. There's tubes, an oxygen tank-we can take her home, Logan. We can help her. Just let us-“
“Fuck you, One-Eye. It ends here.” He turned his head just enough to stare me down. “Look at her. That ain't living.” Reluctantly I turned and looked at the tank.
Rogue's eyes were closed. Tubes ran into her everywhere, snaking around her body like so many serpents. From here I could see the scarred flesh, the way one eye was twisted shut, maybe entirely gone. One hand was almost missing, reduced to scraps of blackened flesh.
Logan didn't wait any longer. He shook Storm off, and then before either of us could react he strode to the tank and slashed his claws down. Glass and acrid-smelling liquid sprayed everywhere as the tank practically exploded. Logan knocked away shards of glass and simply climbed into the tank with her. He gathered Rogue into his arms, all that was left of her, and he pulled away the tubes that ran into her mouth and nose.
Storm had raised her cape to protect herself from the flying glass, and now she started towards the tank as well. I caught her arm.
“No. Storm-leave them alone.” I didn't know what we were about to see, but damned if I wanted him taking anyone else with him.
Logan
She wasn't dead. Not yet.
I should have known it wouldn't be that easy.
I almost hoped she wouldn't wake up. I almost hoped she was past that, past everything except the faint heartbeat I felt when I took her into my arms. But she coughed a little when I pulled the tube out of her throat, and she tried to open the one eye that looked like it still worked as I wrapped her in a sheet Ororo silently handed to me. I almost wished I could just go ahead and do it, before she really knew what was happening, before she had time to be scared or hurt any more.
But I couldn't. It wouldn't have been the honorable way. But even more, I just wanted to see that she knew we'd found her, that she wasn't going to be forgotten and disappear. That she wasn't alone. It was a chance to make at least that much right.
I wanted to take off my gloves, but that would have been too dangerous. I brushed her wet hair out of her face and held her as close as I could. There was something around her neck and I tried to pull it away, but it wouldn't move. Then she winced and her hand came up to weakly try to bat mine away. I said whatever I could to reassure her, hoping she could actually hear me. “Shh. It's all right, Marie. It's just me. It's Logan. I'll get it off.”
Her eye did open at that, and I could see how hard she was fighting for consciousness. Her lips moved, but nothing came out. I reached for the collar again and she shook her head weakly.
“Don't,” she managed to whisper. Then her fingers tightened over mine, just a little, and she tried to smile. I had to lean close to catch her next words. “Knew you'd find me,” she murmured, and then her head fell forward on my shoulder.
Christ. I hadn't even been looking for her. But it didn't matter any more. I just held her, in the wreckage of that hellhole, and feeling a sense of absolute peace settled over me.
Because it was almost over.
Rogue:
I don't remember much about what happened to me.
Probably just as well.
All I thought I wanted was death. I thought it would be the kindest solution for me, and for everyone else. And when the Sentinels took aim at me that last time, that was what I expected. I thought I was dead, when I took that last volley and felt myself falling, and I just hoped it was enough.
But they wouldn't let me die. I was frightened, when I realized what was happening, where I was. But it was then that I knew I didn't want to die, not really, and certainly not like that. I tried to fight them, but I was too hurt and sick and then too drugged to be able to do much.
I knew they wouldn't let me get away. They let me sleep, though. They let me dream.
The dreams were wonderful.
I dreamed I was flying. I dreamed I was back home with my parents, before any of this ever happened to me. I dreamed I could walk down the street like anyone else, not different, not dangerous. And I dreamed that I saw him again.
I dreamed that Logan came to get me.
I dreamed that over and over, and when it really happened the only reason I knew it wasn't still a dream was that in the dreams I was never cold and wet and my lungs didn't burn with the unaccustomed exposure to air when I finally heard his voice.
I could barely open my eyes, but I had to know for sure. I heard him telling me it was all right, that he was there. And it was real. Then he tried to take the collar off, and it was all I could do to stop him.
I wanted to explain, but I couldn't. And he didn't understand, but he stopped. He held me, and he kept telling me it was all right, that he would take care of me, that he would be with me.
He kept talking to me, so quietly. He said I shouldn't worry about anything, that he would do it all. That he would follow me. He told me not to be afraid. He told me it was an honor, that there was a name for it. That I only had to give him permission.
I couldn't talk, but I couldn't let him do that. So I did the only thing I could, the one thing that would make him understand.
I reached up with my one good hand and touched his cheek.
Ororo Munroe:
My eyes were filled with tears, only partly because of liquid that hissed and bubbled on the floor around us. Wolverine drew in his claws and climbed into the tank with Rogue, lifted her out of the draining fluid and into his arms.
Scott tried to pull me away, but I could not leave them. I brought a sheet to cover and warm her, and I heard what Wolverine said to her as he held her.
I could not imagine that she could still understand his words. But she did. I know that now. He spoke of death as a blessing, of the honor it would be for him to join her on her final path. He asked for her consent to act as her guide, her kaishaku, and follow her into shadow. Wolverine is not a man of words, and I had never heard him say so much together.
I did not think she heard or comprehended, but when I saw her reach up with the one hand that still was whole, I knew she did. I thought she was refusing his offer, choosing her own way of closing the story, making sure that even at the end of all things, he would not know the grief of being the one to end her life. Wolverine thought so too. I saw him close his eyes, resign himself, waiting for that last touch. He made no move to stop her.
I thought that even implacable Time should have the decency to pause in his courses and let that touch stretch into eternity. Truly, it seemed to.
And then I saw him take a breath, a great gasp of desperation, and a tremor shook his body. And I saw that Rogue's face was utterly serene.
Then he lifted his head and bellowed out a name, and I saw stark terror written on his features. “Summers!”
It was not until I saw him tear off his gloves and reach to hold her hand where it still rested against his cheek that I understood. Scott moved, though I could not, and then Wolverine's words to him sank in.
“-got to get her out of here, now, back to the Mansion. Christ, help me--help her!” He was nearly crazed with concern, terrified that she would slip away from him now. “That thing-you stay with me, baby, you understand? We're going to take you home.”
“Come on.” Scott's voice was crisp and his directions were firm. “Bring her. Storm, go ahead, get the emergency kit out. Oxygen and blankets. We'll be back at the Med Lab in an hour.”
The journey home is a blur. Rogue didn't want the mask I placed over her mouth and nose, wanted nothing that could separate her from his touch, but Wolverine ordered her to leave it alone and she did. He was on the floor, holding her in his arms, and he had torn off the jacket to his uniform so Rogue could better feel the warmth of his flesh against hers. She was barely awake then, but he brought her hand up and held it against his chest as he pressed his lips to her forehead again and again. I stumbled back to give them room, strapping myself into my seat, and whatever words were spoken then must remain unknown to others.
But Logan wept.
Our revels now are ended. The rest of the story is mere denouement. Rogue lived. They stayed with us, for a short while. Long enough for the Professor and Dr. McCoy to decipher the technology of the collar she wore and learn to use its power. Long enough for them to harness the flow of energy, to control it, to shape it into a form that would be easier to wear--a necklace instead of a collar.
And long enough for Logan to convince her that they understood it well enough to dampen her powers without negating them completely, for once. To allow him to make one sacrifice on her behalf, however temporary.
She was hesitant, but she agreed, as long as it was under the controlled conditions of the lab, where medical help was nearby. I was not there, so I will say only that it worked. Those who did observe tell me it was uneventful. That Rogue let go as soon as she felt her flesh knitting itself together, and by the time she turned to take her necklace from the table beside her and put the weaker one aside, she was healed and whole. And that she took Logan's hand in both of hers and sat beside him until he awoke, so that her face would be the first he saw.
And soon after, they left. Not forever, I am sure. But the war for now was ended, and there was much lost time to be made up for. They were not needed here, and so their story for now I can only conjure and imagine.
Sometimes, somehow, out of utter evil, comes a great good. So odd, but true.
Did they marry? In their hearts, I believe. There were no outside words that could have strengthened the bond between them. There was something splendid in the way each of them laid claim to the other, both selfless and accepting, the giving and receiving of equal measure. It was complete, and beautiful to see. That is one reason I wish for their return. There is not beauty enough in this world that I can spare the sight of any.
We are only human, and imperfect, but sometimes, in our way, we achieve heaven here on earth.
Finis
The titles of the last two parts of the series are from The Two Voices. I highly recommend it.
No life that breathes with human breath
Has ever truly longed for death.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Finally! Resolution.
This is the last part. Warnings? Well...you should know what you're in for by now. Oh, and the word kaishaku means one's second in seppuku, a trusted friend or servant whose job it is to end the act.
This is the last part. Warnings? Well...you should know what you're in for by now. Oh, and the word kaishaku means one's second in seppuku, a trusted friend or servant whose job it is to end the act.