It was a task he was poorly equipped to. Supervising the med lab and simultaneously combing through archives they had managed to raid from a secluded compound that they suspected to be the base of operations for spreading the virus they knew as Legacy fell on him soon after Jean and Professor Xavier succumbed to disease that everybody already referred as mutant plague.
“I’m thirsty...”
“I need to go to the bathroom...”
“It hurts! It hurts!”
“Where’s my mom? I want my mom!”
He probably would have fled the scene if it wasn’t the girl he now knew as Rogue. She read stories for the younger patients and sat and talked with her dying elders. He occasionally wondered if she realized that immunity she had gained through touching him accidentally would eventually fade. Right now she was riding on a borrowed horse and it would soon drop all its shoes. But it really didn’t matter. As long as the horse kept going he had the time to delve deeper in to grim details in the thick pile of folders that lay in front of him.
...Results are unfortunately far from conclusive. Legacy is prone to mutations; especially the most virulent strands have a tendency to....
...Several trials have shown no reason to approve Legacy as the first priority tool...
...Failure. Only 50% lethality...
...progress. Yet far from success. I urge you to consider possible alternative methods...
...When combined with another project it’s possible to reach satisfactory results. See [censored] for more detail. Mr. W. Stryker assured me that the prototype has been working in all tested scenarios so far. He asked you to contact [censored] from [censored].
The last one caught his attention. Stryker wasn’t completely unfamiliar name to him. He straightened his back and rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. That name still brought forth strong sense of fear and nausea, even after all these years.
Wolverine was no stranger to genetics and mutant experimentation. His past, as hazy as it was during day, often came to taunt him in the form of dreams, and those dreams were far from pleasant. And now this. It really was no surprise that Stryker had connections to Legacy, but it made matters more serious. Before this discovery it was almost certain that at least small percent of the population would survive after all. With Stryker messing up things... Only God knew what would eventually happen.
“Hey. Did you find something?” Rogue asked.
“Bad news,” he said.
“What can be worse than this?” The girl asked, drawing his attention to their rapidly dwindling flock of patients. In the beginning there had been only few of them. Then the med lab had filled to the brim and Jean had had to start making house calls. Part of dormitories had been transformed so they could better serve as an isolation ward. Now there were only five of them left. Five younger students who got sick last, and they’d probably be dead soon. He prayed that they would die. Alternative was insanity. Rogue didn’t know that he had singlehandedly slain those few who had survived from the Legacy; he wasn’t even planning to share that with her.
“I found a familiar name. A man who’s supposed to be dead. Legacy was originally failed project. A man called William Stryker made it to work somehow.”
“How?” Rogue asked her eyes now wide as saucers.
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m going to find out next. As soon as I get some coffee first.”
“I’ll go and get you some.”
“No. We’re both going to take a short break,” he suddenly decided. Rogue looked at him and the five boys that were currently sleeping, surprisingly peacefully.
“I don’t...”
“You have been watching over them long enough. It’s time to take a short breather before you collapse. We’ll go and I’m going to get some coffee. You’re going to bed. I’ll come and wake you if anything happens.”
He practically had to force Rogue to take the stairs to dormitory. After he was sure that she had gone to bed he let down his guard, dragged his feet through the necessary steps to reach the kitchenette and let his head droop against cool marble surface of the countertop.
Stryker was most likely dead already. Stryker wasn’t the type of guy to leave loose ends and clues floating around. It would be an act of futility to try to find any information of Stryker’s project now.
When his cheek felt almost as if it was frozen he turned his forehead against the marble. Grit his teeth.
When it had been only the legacy that he had had to think about all had been clear and easy. There was a virus that was going to kill everybody, or turn them insane. With Stryker in the picture... Stryker had been a sharp man. He had been a stubborn man. But Stryker had also been just a man, flawed being. And there was every chance that the great plan of making Legacy work wasn’t Wolverine-proof after all. He’d just had to look harder, and he’d find the faulty gear.
“And I don’t know where to look anymore...” He breathed words out, then swallowed the bitter disappointment and stood up, just in time before Rogue walked in to the kitchenette.
“What the hell are you doing here? You were supposed to sleep,” he asked.
“I... Could I sleep somewhere else?” The girl asked.
“What’s wrong with your own room?” He asked, trying to remember when he had last seen the set of general keys he had taken from the janitor after the man had died.
“It’s the moon... I know this is going to sound stupid, but promise not to laugh at me?”
“I promise.”
“It’s scary. It feels like... It feels like I should run away from it, hide before it sees me,” Rogue stuttered, then turned her gaze, her whole posture slouching. She was expecting him to laugh.
“The moon?” He asked instead, remembering his own reaction towards it from a week before.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Move your stuff to infirmary. I guess it’s easier...”
“Yeah. It probably won’t take long before I would have to go there anyway...” Rogue huffed.
She was about to leave when he grasped her shoulder.
“I have been thinking about that. How... How do you want to leave?” He asked. Rogue looked at him, puzzled look on her face.
“Well, it’s kind of obvious that I’ll be the last one to die. Do you want to stay here or go someplace else?” He asked. There was no need to elaborate further. No need to add the words ‘when you get sick again’, Rogue already knew that the state of her health now was due to his mutation still lingering in her system, but eventually Legacy would override it.
“I... Can we go? Now?” She asked, clearly disgusted over her willingness to abandon their patients. All of the five boys at the infirmary would die, that was a fact, but was it a valid reason to abandon them?
“We can go now if you want to,” he said.
“No... No. It’s better if we wait until they’re dead. It wouldn’t be right to leave them like this,” Rogue said after long period of silence.
“Okay. We’ll wait until they’re dead, then leave.”
“Where to?”
“It’s up to you, kid. I guess it’s safe to assume that moon is not too high on your wish list, but anywhere else...”
There really was no reason to bury the bodies of their last patients. Nobody would return to the mansion. There would be no more students, no more teachers, no more X-Men. Logan and Rogue simply left after the last of the kids died, locking doors behind them. Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters had turned to a mausoleum.
The girl was sick. He had seen the first signs of Legacy tightening its hold of her last night. She had been tired and feverish. He was sick. He could feel the fluids building up in his lungs, but he knew it would take at least a week before either of them would die.
“I think I want to go to Alaska now,” Rogue said as they sat in a truck right in front of the ornate gates that now hung wide open.
“Alaska? What’s in Alaska?” He asked perplexed. Out of all the options he hadn’t expected this.
“There’s snow. Lots of it,” Rogue said.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her that it probably would take them too long to reach the snowline now. He’d get her to Alaska, dead or alive.
“Okay. But before we get going we better stock up some supplies. There won’t be gas stations along the road anymore. We need at least...” And then it became impossible to speak. He could only cough and gag and try to suck in air that suddenly felt thicker than tar. The girl just sat there, staring out through the windshield, waiting for him to either pull it trough or choke to death.
“Shit... Is this how you felt before? ... All the time?” He finally asked, breathing deeply and leaning his forehead against the steering wheel.
“Pretty much.”
“Can’t blame you for your bitchyness...”
It was their second day on the road. They had just barely made their way out of the city. Roads were blocked by cars. It looked like they weren’t the only ones wanting to get some space between them and death. Only difference was that they were still alive unlike drivers in the cars that Logan had to haul to the side of the road so they could get through.
“Would you fuck me?” Rogue suddenly asked. He turned to look at her. Then shook his head.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not suicidal, kid.”
“But what if I had normal skin? Would you fuck me then?”
“No. I’m not paedophiliac, either.”
“Well... If I was older and had a normal skin, would you...”
“No. I wouldn’t fuck you under any circumstances.”
“Why not? You said I was pretty.”
“Yeah. I don’t fuck pretty girls. Nobody should.”
“Oh... O-kay...”
It was something he actually was proud off. He fooled around whenever he got the chance, but never with girls like Rogue. Never with girls he’d end up hurting. And the girl currently staring numbly through the windshield didn’t seem to understand it.
“What’s wrong with me, then?” She asked. He shrugged his shoulders.
“Is it because I’m going to die?” Was her next question.
“And why the hell should I fuck with you?” He grunted slightly annoyed but more embarrassed.
“I... I’m curious. Nobody told me that I was pretty before. Nobody saw me like that. They all saw me as the Rogue. The girl with a killer skin.”
“I’m not going to tell you that you should wait for the right guy since you don’t have the time for it...” He begun, then cleared his throat.
“Just suck it up, kid. Life’s a bitch and then you die.”
“Yeah...” Rogue huffed, then leaned slightly forward coughing and gagging.
“And no more deep conversations... They’re bad for your h... health...” He managed to wheeze before he had to steer to the side of the road and stop. It was impossible to keep the truck on the road and cough.
“We’re not going to make it to Alaska...” Rogue whispered, falling against the backrest of her seat, her eyes closed.
“Does it matter?” He asked. Now it was Rogue’s turn to shrug.
“Would have been nice... to see the snow. To make angels.”
“You’re going to end up as one, pretty girls like you do always.”
“I’d rather live.”
“Wouldn’t we all...”
On their third day on the road they were forced to abandon the truck. Logan had no strength left to clear obstacles on the road. Rogue wasn’t faring any better. Logan was carrying her.
“Look! It’s... It’s the moon!”
“Like fuck it is, kid...”
“What is it, then?”
“Don’t know, don’t care...”
Shimmering surface of a portal swallowed them. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the portal closed and disappeared.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000