She looked out over the land, awestruck by the view. It was all hers. It was still unbelievable what she had been able to accomplish in the last year. How she had finally found her footing and was able to dream everything before her to life.
The horses ran free in their coral. Five so far, but, with a little luck and a lot of work, she would be able to afford more animals and the hands needed to care for all of them. It was still magnificent to watch them, trotting around the coral, whining to one another, basking in their youth.
There were cows, too, in their own pasture, a bull and a few other animals. All incorporated into her own ranch. Sure, it wasn’t her money that helped produce all this, but it was her dream, and it was her blood and sweat in this land. She had helped build this house with her own two hands. Had made all the important decisions about what would go where and be used for what. The dream that she hadn’t even known she had until after the death of Jean Grey was real and tangible. There was only one thing missing, though…
And just as her thoughts began to trail off, a small car pulled onto the long driveway, making its way up the gravel. She waited until it was half way up before turning towards the stairs and making her way down. She forced herself to pace herself, to go slowly. She didn’t want to spook anyone, but she couldn’t help being excited. It had been a long time since she felt this way.
~*~*~*~*~*~
They stopped just as she was opening the front door. The driver side door sprang open and she couldn’t help but smile at the sight before her and the driver unfolded himself and stretched. But, boy, was he a pretty sight to see.
But that wasn’t who she was out here to meet. She waited patiently as the passenger door opened slowly. Who ever was in there was young, unsure of what to do. She waited while the person stepped out cautiously, studying the surroundings. She felt the cold, hard gaze land on her and stop as the door was slammed closed.
Rogue knew the history. Manifested with the ability to see through solid objects at thirteen. Eye’s turning to the color of purple grapes from a chocolate brown. The child had been tossed into someone’s basement. Beaten daily, scared for life, both physically and mentally. Chances are, emotionally, too. Rescued when a fire was started in the home. Some social worker to green around the gills took pity on her and tossed her to Xavier. A week ago, she got a call from the school. The kid wasn’t getting anywhere. So, Rogue took a chance. They were only expecting five. What was one more?
“This is it?” The voice was rough and weak, as if the child hadn’t used it in months. Rogue shook her head yes, walking down the porch steps and making her way to the girl.
“This is it. My name is Rogue.” She stuck out her hand, unsure of how to handle this. “I own this place, and I want to help you.”
“Alright. He said you were a good person,” the little girl replied, pitching her thumb at the man who stood off to the side. She reached out gingerly, and grasped Rogue’s outstretched hand. Rogue smiled, although she felt like screaming at the sight of the scars that ran across the girl’s face and down her neck. There were a few that Rogue caught a glimpse on the girl’s arm. “My name is Christy.”
“Well, Christy, there is some lunch set out in the kitchen. Why don’t you go on in and have something while I have a talk with your chauffer.” Rogue smiled as she shooed the girl into the house. “How was it?”
“Better than I thought it was going to be,” he replied with a wide grin. “Half the week it took us to get here, I was trying my hardest to get her to open up, and then, the other half, I was trying to get her to shut up.”
Rogue chuckled at the thought. If there was one thing he hated, it was disorder.
“Are the other’s here yet?” He asked. Before she could answer, they both turned to watch another vehicle pull into the drive. This one was a minivan. Rogue noticed the way it looked as if it was falling apart, her eyebrows knitting together with the memory of it leaving two weeks ago, brand new. But this was to be expected.
The minivan pushed along the road at a speed of about 25 miles an hour. Considering that her drive was a mile long, Rogue knew it would be a minute. “How are things back at the mansion?”
“Good. We miss you, though. All of you. John in the kitchen?” He looked toward the house forlornly, and Rogue assumed that he was already imagining sitting down to a good lunch. People were surprised to learn that John could cook, and well, too. Just as surprised when Piotr developed a knack for medicine and Jubilee proved to be a good counselor. Bobby and Kitty were in charge of the educational programs, and Rogue was in charge of everything else. There was a full staff, of course, but everything was run by the six of them.
“Go on in. I have something to deal with.” Rogue replied, looking back to the van that was almost to her.
“Just go easy on him,” he replied as he ran into the house.
When the van reached her, she couldn’t help the light smile that played on her lips. As he stepped out of the vehicle, stretching his muscles and popping her neck, it was plain that he had been through a lot over the last few weeks. He was tired, restless, and angry.
“Here are your keys, there are your kids. I’m going to bed for the next month. Leave me alone.” He tossed her the keys and went to move past her. Reaching out quickly, she grabbed his arm, bringing him close. She had been worried to death for the last three weeks. It was a rescue mission. Five children. Four boys, one girl. The eldest was seventeen, the youngest eleven. They were runaways who had been taken off the road and abused. Rogue shuddered at the memory of the pictures that had been placed on her desk by an anonymous source.
He stopped, the angry grimace melting away from his face as he saw the hurt and worry in her eyes. The kids were still piling out of the car, but she would get to them in a moment. This was something that needed to be done.
“I missed you, Logan,” she said softly, wishing that she could at least have better control over her feelings when it came to him.
“I missed you, too, Darlin,” he replied as he lowered his mouth to her, crushing her lips in a kiss that spoke more than any words could.
She lose all thought and connection with the world around her as she dove into that kiss. The only thing that pulled them apart was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her.
Looking up in unison, they found Scott standing in the door way, trying to talk while chew around the large bite of sandwich he had in his mouth. “Why don’t you two get a room? There are children present.”
Rogue tried to look sheepish even as Logan pulled her closer to him and growled.
“Come on, kids. Let’s get you something to eat,” Scot said quickly, shaking his head in shame. “Don’t mind them. Their still on their honeymoon.”
The kids followed Scott into the house, and Rogue couldn’t help but blush when one of the kids asked if they had just gotten married yesterday.
“Nope, about a year ago. We were stuck in Ireland. I’ll tell you all about it over lunch.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
“This is it. My name is Rogue.” She stuck out her hand, unsure of how to handle this. “I own this place, and I want to help you.”
Chapter End Notes:
Ok. Final chapter. I already have an idea for the next story. Let me know what you think!!!!!