Rogue strummed idly on her guitar as she sat beneath the large flowering magnolia tree in Storm’s lavish garden, occasionally singing along with the small radio beside her on the grass. The night air was cool against her skin, almost uncomfortably so, but she wanted to enjoy the beauty of the garden before the oncoming winter arrived. The plants clung tenaciously to life despite the frequent cold snaps they had been having in the past few weeks, and Rogue admired their hardiness, their ability to endure.
With a sigh she broke off a flower from a night-blooming jasmine bush, breathing in its intoxicating aroma before absently tucking the white flower into her thick hair behind one ear. Ya gotta get a haircut, she told herself sternly, fingering the long silky strands that reached her hips. It hadn’t been that length since she had first arrived at the mansion. During her eight months on the road there hadn’t been much of an opportunity or necessity for hair maintenance and as a result it had grown like a weed, the thick mass of waves and curls tumbling down her back like a waterfall. Now years later it had reached that stage again, yet she was loathe to shear it off; Logan had once told her he preferred her hair long and untamed like that, saying that it made her look like a wild-flower.
With an angry scowl, Rogue flopped onto her back on the cool grass and gazed up at the stars, upset that once again her thoughts had turned to Logan. Everyday of the past seven weeks that he had been gone she had carefully conditioned herself not to think of him; she accepted that he couldn’t forgive her for what she had done and she knew that if she could do it over, she wouldn’t change a thing. It was better for him to hate her than to turn that hate inwards onto himself; it had been her sacrifice for him so he wouldn’t be the one with Jean’s blood on his hands and she didn’t regret her actions. She had told herself that she would pay any price to keep him from pain, and if this was the cost of her decision, then so be it. It still hurt though. It hurt a lot.
Now, seven weeks later, Rogue had learned to shut down her heart where Logan was concerned. The love she felt for him was carefully put in a box and locked away within her, never to be taken out again. After Scott had told her that he was gone she had allowed herself the luxury of tears that one time but after that, never again. Love, she had decided, was not for her. Oh, she still loved her friends that she considered family, but romantic love was best left for others who weren’t named Rogue. She had now reached the point where thinking about him didn’t leave her heart bleeding and raw; now when he crossed her mind she only felt numb and if any of her old emotions came up, she would force them back into their box. After learning to control her skin, she now controlled her love for him in the same way: she simply shut it off.
She continued to lie there on the grass while the radio softly played on into the night and when she heard soft footsteps approaching she didn’t bother to look around, assuming that it was Storm coming to tell her to get inside or put on a sweater before she caught a cold. But it wasn’t Storm’s voice that spoke; it was Logan’s.
“Hey kid.”
Rogue quickly rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her hands to see him standing several feet away as he peered down at her. She rose gracefully to her feet, unconsciously smoothing down her long peasant skirt and tugging the hem of her tank top back into place before forcing her hands to remain at her sides.
“Hey,” she replied, pleased that her voice didn’t tremble. “You’re back.”
Logan said nothing; instead his burning eyes scanned her body from head to toe until finally Rogue could bear the scrutiny no longer and blurted out, “See somethin’ green?”
“You’ve let your hair grow longer,” he said, sounding as though he had been caught off guard while he shifted restlessly on his feet.
“Yeah,” she agreed slowly. “Hair tends to do that sometimes.”
He jerked his eyes back to hers at her defensive tone as an awkward silence filled the air. “I just meant… it looks the way it did when we first met. Only now you have the streaks.”
Rogue nodded, trying to appear calm while inside she was a mass of confusion. Why was he acting like this? Where were the angry words, the accusations and fierce glares? He certainly wasn’t acting like he hated her; if anything he seemed to be almost apprehensive about something. Assuming it was the calm before the storm, she said, “Ah didn’t hear ya pull up. Didn’t ya take the bike?”
“Had an accident,” he replied shortly, still not moving any closer to her as they stood awkwardly across from one another with about ten feet of grass between their bodies. Crickets chirped in the background while the radio played on before he finally blurted out, “We need to talk. I need to talk, I guess.”
“Oh,” Rogue said in a small voice as her stomach dropped to her toes. This was it, the thing she had been dreading; it was one thing to know he hated her, but to hear him say it now would be excruciating. Remembering the past several weeks she had just spent closing off her feelings, she sternly reminded herself that she didn’t need love and quickly cut him off before he could speak again. “Ah know what yo’ gonna say, an’ ah’m sorry ah – “
“I love you.”
The words hit her with all the impact of a speeding truck and it took her several seconds to process what he had just said. Through numb lips she heard herself mumble, “OK, maybe ah didn’t know what ya were gonna say…”
Logan moved towards her with one hand outstretched as if to touch her, making Rogue take a step back to compensate; her skin was turned on and with the sudden upheaval in her emotions and thoughts, she doubted she'd be able to turn it off any time soon. His arm dropped back to his side as he stared at her sombrely. "I did a lot of thinking while I was gone," he began carefully. "Jean... she wasn't who I thought she was. I loved her, but I let her go a long time ago; I just never realized it."
A roar filled Rogue's head as she heard his words, the thought of those seven agonizing weeks she had just spent thinking he hated her rising up within her. The countless hours she had spent convincing herself that she was numb, that her feelings for him were completely dead; only now to have him tell her that he in fact chose her over Jean. Or at least he thought he did. The idea that this was a just a whim of his, perhaps shock over Jean's death, made her recognize what the roar rushing through her blood for what it was: anger. Anger at him for doing this to her, for making her dance like a puppet on a string that he could control whenever he chose, anger for the tears she had shed after he left and the empty nights alone with nothing but her torment. Mostly, she was angry that he still affected her so much, thus proving that any control she thought she had over her emotions had been a lie.
"So, what?" she demanded loudly, her green eyes shooting sparks as she placed her hands on her hips. "Ya roamed the countryside for nearly two months, weighin' the pros an' cons of pinin' over a dead woman before finally decidin', 'gee, maybe ah'd be better off with a live one'."
Logan's face paled visibly at her furious words and he recoiled as though he had been dealt a physical blow. "You know that's not it," he said hoarsely.
"Ah don't know anything!!!" Rogue yelled in fury. "All this time ah've been thinkin' that ya hated me for killin' Jean, an' here ya stroll in an' tell me it's the exact opposite! An' now what? Ya think ah'm jus' gonna swoon into yo' arms an' believe ya?"
"You thought I hated you?" Logan whispered with a stunned expression. "How could you ever think - "
"What else was ah supposed to think?" she cut him off as she began to pace around the garden in agitation. "Ya left, remember? With not a word to me or even a lousy note. Ya didn't even wait to see if ah was gonna be OK." She shut her mouth with a snap when her voice cracked on the last word, too proud to let him see her cry. Ah won't cry for him! she told herself fiercely. Not anymore.
Logan was watching her warily while she turned her back on him to reign in her emotions and when he spoke his voice was contrite. ""Hank promised me that you were fine. I just needed some time to get my head on straight, to figure it out. I'm sorry -"
Rogue spun in a circle like a dancer, her skirt flaring out around her long legs from the speed with which she moved. "No!" she screamed, cutting him off again. "Ya do not get to make everythin' OK by sayin' you're sorry! Do you have any idea what ah've been through? The hours, the days, the weeks ah've spent tryin' to get over you? Well guess what sugah, it finally worked; ah've given up on ya."
Logan's face fell as her husky voice echoed in the moonlit garden. "Don't say that. Don't ever say that," he said thickly. "Say anything else but don't tell me you've given up on me Marie. You told me you loved me once; tell me that you still do."
Rogue hung her head, feeling suddenly tired while her hair hid her face behind a curtain of brown and white. Taking a breath, she raised her head to meet his imploring stare and said tonelessly, "Ah don't."
A muscle in Logan's jaw visibly twitched at her cold words while his eyes blinked rapidly, pain evident in his features. "So what is this then, payback?" he demanded, his voice suddenly raspy while Rogue shook her head in denial, unable to meet his gaze.
"No, it ain't payback," she told him. "Ah just... ah don't feel a thing anymore." She bit her lip to keep from saying any more; her heart was screaming at her to believe him, to go to him, but her pride, that fierce, indomitable pride within her, refused to back down, refused to be made to dance like a puppet for him again.
She never heard him move; one moment he was standing several feet away, the next he was right in front of her, as close as he could get without actually touching her. With one hand he plucked the jasmine flower from her hair before brushing it lightly across her cheek as she stood rigidly before him, unwilling to back away.
"I don't believe that," he murmured, trying to catch her eyes with his own while she determinedly looked away. "Look at me Marie. Look at me and tell me that you don't love me."
Rogue finally met his blistering stare while a sneer curled her full lips with false bravado; inside she felt as though she was sixteen again and completely lost in his presence. "What if ah do jus' that?" she challenged. "Ya gonna run away into the night, never to be seen again? Gonna tell me if ya can't have all of me, ya don't want any? That it?"
Logan shook his head, the jasmine blossom still in his hand now softly trailing across her lips. "No darlin'," he said, making her body shiver from his low voice as much as his actions. "I'm done with running. I'm staying right here until you're ready to believe me and I don't care how long it takes."
Rogue couldn't tear her eyes away from his; his words were so sincere and though she did believe him, she knew the day would come when he decided he had made a mistake and leave her. The pain she had felt thinking he hated her would be nothing compared to the agony she would go through if she knew he left because she wasn't everything he thought she was.
And yet it was so hard to turn him away when he looked the way he did, standing in the shadow of the magnolia tree while the moonlight turned his hazel eyes into something unreal. Rogue's eyes fell to his well-defined lips, lips that always looked so hard; it had been such a pleasant surprise when she kissed him to learn that they were wonderfully soft against hers. Swallowing thickly, she looked up to meet his gaze once more, opening her mouth to speak when a sudden shriek broke through the still night air.
"ROGUE!!!"
An instant later Jubilee crashed into the garden, a stream of fireworks jetting from her hands as she skidded to halt in front of the other two mutants while she paused to catch her breath.
"Jubes, what the hell is goin' on? Ya just flash-fried one of Storm's rose bushes!" Rogue scolded her friend who appeared to be on the verge of spontaneous combustion. Shooting a questioning glance at Logan who merely shrugged, she turned back to the gasping girl beside them and waited for an explanation.
"The Professor," Jubilee panted, bracing one hand on Logan's broad shoulder as she spoke. "We just got a call from Muir Island. He's alive guys! The Professor's alive!"
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: I don't own the x-men. Stan lee rules!
Chapter title comes from the snow patrol song of the same name. i highly recommend looking up the lyrics or listening to the song itself. it goes really well with this one. and all i have to say about this chapter is that i like happy endings as much as the next person, so don't let this angst worry you. reviews would be nice and i hope you all enjoy!
Chapter title comes from the snow patrol song of the same name. i highly recommend looking up the lyrics or listening to the song itself. it goes really well with this one. and all i have to say about this chapter is that i like happy endings as much as the next person, so don't let this angst worry you. reviews would be nice and i hope you all enjoy!