Logan’s eyes shifted around the room, unwilling to allow his mind to fully comprehend what was before him. He breathed in the stale air with a heavy sigh as his feet slowly shuffled forward. Hesitantly his hand caressed the smooth wood of the coffin before he took a deep breath and flipped open the lid.
A sound caught between a gasp and whimper caught in his throat as his wide eyes took in the still body.
Rogue lay upon the silk of the coffin perfectly still. Her eyes closed, her extremely pale face looking absurdly peaceful. Tentatively, he caressed her cheek, somehow still shocked to find its surface cold; the sensation reminding him of a memory almost a decade old; him standing atop the Statue of Liberty cradling her rapidly cooling body as he desperately willed his power into her.
Another whimper caught in his throat and he clenched his teeth. The trail of his thumb moved from her cheek over her full red lips. His hand fell and dangled in her still silky smooth chestnut coloured strands of hair. Someone had cleaned her up and applied a light amount of make-up.
The position of her hands struck him as too neat as they rested on top of her stomach. She was too posed for his liking. She was too dead for his liking. But despite the fact that someone had taken the time to make her body presentable, he could smell the lingering taint of bloodshed.
He growled suddenly and bowed his head away as he slammed his hands on the table the coffin was resting on.
“Damn it, Marie,” he swore desperately. “This wasn’t how things were suppose to turn out. If you hadn’t....if you’d just....FUCK!” he roared suddenly.
He paced suddenly and sharply turned away from her body as though distancing himself before turning back around.
“You always had to do everything the hard way,” he snapped viciously.
Leaning beside her body again he whispered harshly, “You stubborn bitch.” The tone lacked any real heat as the despair ate through his words.
He raised the palms of his hands to his face as he rubbed his eyes harshly, somehow willing the tears back in.
Twirling around with a snarl he unleashed his claws and struck at the cement wall. Over and over again he slashed against its surface, the sting of his claws hitting the cement not enough to satisfy him as he raged.
***
“Well,” Wanda started quietly as the three of them stood waiting outside the door listening to Logan’s howls and the destruction he was executing. “I think he’s taking it well.”
“Guess he believes you now, Wanda,” Jaime responded bitterly.
“The question now is,” Pietro pondered. “What’s he going to do next?”
Wanda scoffed. “Find the nearest watering hole and drink himself to death.”
Pietro’s eyes twinkled at her. “Ye of such little faith.”
The door abruptly clanged open as a scowling and suddenly reserved Logan walked out. His claws slowly receding back under his skin as he barely glanced at them, his eyes ahead.
“I’ll be taking her back with me.”
Wanda smirked suddenly and sauntered over towards him, ignoring the warning signs his body language was giving off.
“Back where, Wolverine?” she scoffed amused.
His gaze flickered towards her as he eyed her from the side.
“Home.”
Wanda’s face turned with sudden rage in a flash.
“And where would that be?” she spoke in a cold voice. “The mansion?” Her dark eyes narrowed. “I think not.”
Logan’s gaze whipped around to focus on her as he growled. “Like I care what you think.”
“Why?” Pietro spoke up.
Logan narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “Why what?”
“Why take her back there?” Pietro asked with earnest. “I was under the assumption she wasn’t welcomed by the X-Men anymore.”
“That’s not exactly true,” Logan muttered.
“But not entirely false either,” Wanda added.
“How is it that you know so much?” Logan snapped.
Wanda smiled really slowly. “I know enough to question why you would want to take her back there. It’s been three years. As well the obvious fact that in the end they weren’t exactly sweet memories she left you with. It is the place where it all fell apart.”
Logan was quiet for a moment before he spoke quietly. “It was her home once. Briefly...” he turned away, angry and perhaps embarrassed he was about to appear exposed. “It was our home. She was... happy once.”
“And just that once is enough to wipe away the betrayal?” Pietro spoke keenly.
Logan glared at the silver haired mutant. “Why do you care so much? You said she was your friend. You were friends with her despite everything she may have done with you.”
“Ah but you see,” Wanda spoke up. “It’s actually what she never did to Pietro that has him so concerned.”
Pietro glared at his sister. “Be quiet.”
Wanda carried on despite his warning. “You probably have a lot of regrets Wolverine. Perhaps even the regret of not having Rogue one last time. But you see that’s where you and Pietro differ; he regrets never getting the chance to get on that ride to begin with.”
Pietro’s silent stare directed towards his sister spoke volumes.
Logan’s body tensed before he smirked uneasily and snorted.
“You mean she didn’t fuck you,” he exclaimed. “I’m surprised,” he continued and finished bitterly. “You must have been one of the few.”
“You know Wolverine, you and Rogue are...were a lot alike but I gotta say this, at least Rogue had a little more discretion who she chose as a partner. A little more class. I mean where she upgraded, you,” she interrupted with a laugh. “You certainly downgraded.”
Logan snarled and leapt towards her before unexpectedly four Jaimes appeared in front of him, pushing him back.
Wanda glared at them both before walking away.
Three of the Jaimes blurred into one as the single Jaime leaned in towards Logan as he whispered. “Don’t. You’re just giving her exactly what she wants. She wants to lash out at you, at anyone right now. We’re all a little torn up right now and you’d just be doing her a favour.”
“How exactly did you all become such a chummy band of mutants?” Logan grated.
“You could say Rogue found we all had a mutual problem and we bonded over it.”
“Seems a new problem caught up with her anyways,” Logan muttered more to himself. “What happened?” he demanded.
“She was assassinated,” Wanda snapped.
“What?” he gasped in disbelief. “That’s not possible. I mean...I know she was no Saint but her affiliations were never in too deep to warrant much attention.”
“Yeah, well the eight bullet holes that riddle her now dead body say otherwise,” Wanda explained.
Logan grimaced and clenched his jaw. “Who?”
“Were not exactly sure,” Jaime answered.
“You say you’ve been running with her for some time and she up and gets killed and you don’t have any idea why or who.”
“We have a few possible theories,” Pietro supplied.
“Yeah, well it ain’t my concern who’s after you guys. I’m taking her back home to be buried.”
“Your concern may not be for us but it is obvious that you still have lingering concern for Rogue.”
“Meaning?” Logan huffed.
“You get a chance to play the hero once more for her,” Wanda provided with a hint of mockery. “Where you failed before.”
“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Logan yelled.
“Which part?” Wanda remarked.
“Logan,” Pietro yelled suddenly over his sister as he stepped in. “There are still people after Rogue.”
“Yeah, well didn’t they all get the newsflash when she was killed,’ he snapped with unhidden rage. “What would they want with a dead body?”
“Those after her can provide a fate much worse than death,” Wanda answered surprisingly delicately.
“You know you’re not making any sense,” he snapped.
“As much as it pains me to say this,” Wanda sighed. “We need you Wolverine. We need your assistance in protecting Rogue for the next three days. We need you to make sure her body doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Stunned Logan spoke. “Who exactly would still be after her even in death?”
“That mutual problem Pietro mentioned,” Jaime answered.
“Magneto,” Pietro supplied chillingly.
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