Bobby and St. John were boring her with their speculations on Magneto and Mystique. They had no clue what the duo were really capable of. With a cross sigh and an indistinct mutter about talking a walk, Rogue slipped away from the campfire and stalked off into the woods. The boys didn’t miss a beat of their conversation. They probably didn’t even know she was gone.
It had been a very rough day. She had been torn from a deep sleep only to find that the mansion; the one secure, comfortable place in her life, was under attack. She watched helplessly as students, children- her friends were kidnapped by men in masks. She, Bobby, St. John and Logan fled to Bobby’s parents’ house in Massachusetts where Bobby came out to his parents, Logan was shot in the head, and she narrowly stopped St. John from slaughtering innocent people.
And all before lunchtime.
On top of that, she had touched both Bobby and St. John; bits of them were rattling around in her head, and they were as annoying as their flesh and blood counterparts could be when they were riled.
Rogue wrapped her arms around herself, drifted aimlessly through the underbrush. Today was also the first time she had kissed someone since that disastrous moment with David when her gift had first manifested. Eighteen years old and only two kisses under her belt. And both had been fairly traumatic. David had been in a coma for three months and Bobby…well, she knew it was only a matter of time before he broke up with her. When they first kissed she had pulled nothing but sweetness and desire tinged with a breath of frost. It was…amazing. Tender.
But then…something happened. She lost herself in his kiss, in the sensation of touch. By the time she realized what was happening it was too late; Bobby was across the room, gasping and staring at her like she was a monster in a horror movie. He had said it was okay, but she knew better. The last feeling she pulled from him was terror. Bobby was afraid of her touch.
When it came to relationships, that wasn’t a good thing.
She leaned against a tree and sighed unhappily. Just when she felt like she was beginning to get a grip on her gift, too. It was something she had been striving toward: the idea that one day she would have control enough to be able to touch. She had worked one-on-one with the Professor every week for the last year. She had thought it was close, almost there; if she had just reached out she would have been able to grab it-
"Hey."
Rogue started at the scratchy growl that jerked her out of her self-induced misery. The forest was pitch-black but she could see a glowing red ember floating toward her: the tip of his cigar.
She immediately tensed. She was a little too tired and a lot too emotionally raw to be able to deal with Logan right now. Her monumental crush that she had sworn up and down she was over and done with swam right back to the surface when he had showed up at the mansion yesterday. Not good. Very not good.
"Can’t sleep?" he asked when he drew near, a dark shape at her side.
"Nah," she said, playing it cool. "I just wanted to take a walk. I’m fine."
Chuckling, "I didn’t ask you if you were fine." He sounded amused.
"Oh. Well I am. Fine, I mean." Just great. Five seconds into the conversation and she was a typical flustered teen.
The dark shadow leaned closer. "Yes you are," he rasped.
He was so close his warm breath tickled across her skin. She shivered.
"So, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or am I gonna have to guess."
She sighed again. One of the best and worst things about her friendship with Logan was the way he could see right inside her head as if she were made of glass. They were the world’s most unlikeliest pairing, yet loyalty and mutual understanding tied them together. He was her knight in shining armor, she was his humanity.
"Penny for your thoughts?" The moon had come out from behind a cloud and seeped through the leaves; she could see his wide hazel eyes; bright and focused completely on her. He was so close, so intense and so beautiful that all she could do was swallow nervously and hope he didn’t notice how flustered she felt.
"Only a penny?" she said as lightly as she could manage, her southern drawl sounding sticky sweet in her anxiety.
Again he chuckled, and then stubbed his cigar out on the rough bark. With a deep sigh that Rogue felt more than heard, he stepped within three inches of her and planted his hands on either side of her head. Her breath caught as he looked down at her, that one eyebrow raised in dry amusement and a small, knowing smile on his face.
"What are you doing?" Rogue choked, unsure of how to deal with this new and improved Wolverine.
"Do you want to kiss me?"
"What?"
He leaned in closer, a hair’s breath away. "Do. You. Want. To. Kiss. Me?" Every word slipped across her skin like a kiss in and of itself, his husky breath warm against her lips. Rogue stared, transfixed, feeling a jolt of pleasure so deep it was painful as his mouth formed the word ‘kiss.’ It took her a moment to realize he was watching her, waiting for an answer.
Rogue licked her dry lips. "Logan, I can’t. You’ll get hurt."
"You didn’t answer my question." A strand of her snow-white streak had fallen in her face; he brushed it behind her ear without touching her skin. Her eyes widened, her heart skipped a few beats. Dear God, was he serious? Was this really happening?
"Well?" he breathed huskily, the question burning in his eyes.
Rogue couldn’t help herself. "…yes," she half-moaned, his body and nearness overwhelming her senses. "But my skin…we can’t," she repeated, literally vibrating with desire.
"Oh, I think you can. You can…if you really wanted to," Logan murmured in her ear, nipping the side of it with his teeth and sending another tortured moan tumbling from her lips.
Her throat was tight, painful; the words came out no more than a whisper. "I want to."
"So…"
Now he was blowing in her ear; Rogue was five seconds away from screaming in frustration. "So?"
"So do it. The only thing that’s stopping you from controlling your skin is you."
"I…ah…" She and the Professor had been working on meditation and focus as a means to try and gain control of her gift, but the idea of kissing Logan, his willingness for it to happen and his proximity were wreaking havoc on her senses; she couldn’t center herself, she couldn’t focus-
"You have five seconds before I turn around and walk away. I won’t make this offer again. What’s it gonna be, Rogue?"
She could only stare at him mutely, terrified that she wasn’t strong enough; she wasn’t mature enough to control her power.
"Five."
She wanted to, God, she had wanted this from the second she saw him in the cage in Laughlin City; he was sex in denim.
"Four."
Didn’t he understand? She had almost killed him twice with her touch...the last few kisses of her life didn’t turn out so well-
"Three."
What if she couldn’t stop kissing him and he wound up dead?
"Two."
What about Jean? The Wolverine had hung out in her head for a few days after the Statue of Liberty incident; she knew how he felt about the good doctor. Why this sudden change of heart?
"One." He pushed off the tree and started to turn away, a look of disgust at her cowardice written across his features.
Rogue did the only thing she could think of- she grabbed the lapels of his leather coat, pulled him down and kissed him for all she was worth. No hesitation and no thought, just her lips against his, his tongue sliding over hers. There was no deadly pull coming from her skin, no rush of his energy, just the feel and taste of him. Her legs buckled and he pinned her against the tree with his body, taking control of the kiss. His beard was rough against her cheeks and his mouth was hard against hers, encouraging the whimpers that were falling out of her throat by nipping at her lips with his teeth. One of his hands slid up her side to rest heavy on her breast, her nipple a point of fire against his palm.
"God, Rogue, darlin’, I love you," he groaned harshly right before he sucked her tongue into his mouth.
He kissed her breathless, her mouth open against his, gasping for air but unwilling to stop this heavenly feeling.
"Oh Logan, I love you too." She was elated, she was overwhelmed, she was happier than she could have ever imagined. Her gift was under control and Logan was kissing her, telling her he loved her.
And yet…
Something was scratching at a door inside her mind, an annoying pest that refused to slink away and let her lose herself in the moment.
~What’s it gonna be, Rogue?~
Oh God, now he was pushing himself into her, groaning, hard and ready against her belly. God yes-
~What’s it gonna be, Rogue?~
Logan didn’t call her Rogue. He was the only one of the X-Men who knew her real name; he called her Marie.
Distracted she pulled back, breaking the kiss with an audible ‘pop.’ It didn’t phase him; with a low growl he buried his face in her neck, dragged his tongue across her collarbone in such a way that her spine turned to liquid.
And yet…
Voices. Not that far off, coming from the direction of the camp.
"I could be the good guy."
That voice, muffled by distance, was so familiar. But it couldn’t be-
"Logan, the good guy sticks around." Now THAT voice was familiar; it was Jean Grey and she was mad.
Silence from the camp, Wolverine’s harsh pants as he kissed his way up her neck the only sound she heard for a few moments.
Then something else from Jean, more urgent now. "Please don’t make me do this."
"Do what?"
It was impossible. He couldn’t be in two places at once.
Her Logan called her Rogue.
Logan didn’t call her Rogue.
Marie gasped, her head jerked back to the Logan she had just made out with, just said ‘I love you’ to-
Mystique’s ultra-white smile blared rudely out of her cobalt blue face, her yellow eyes burning with mad mischief. The metamorph puckered her lips, blew a kiss, and then leaped to a low hanging branch and swung into a tree before Rogue could retaliate.
Rogue dropped to the ground, her entire being burning with horror and embarrassment. She scrubbed her mouth viciously on her sleeve until her already swollen flesh was raw, spat onto the ground. She scrambled on her hands and knees through the fallen leaves, a scream rising out of her throat. It got stuck there, and all she could manage was a hurt whisper.
"Fucking bitch."
Mystique’s low chuckle sounded from the trees, like fingernails running across a chalkboard.
"See? I said you could control it if you really wanted to."
Rogue knuckled tears out of her eyes, pushed herself to her feet. Her hands and her jeans were muddy. "I…I…I’ll tell. We won’t help you, not after this," Rogue swore.
A blue face poked through the leaves. "You’ll tell? Who will you tell? Your delicious Wolverine? I bet he’d love to know how much you want him."
She turned into Rogue, hung upside down from her knees from a branch. "Oh Logan, I love you too," the psuedo-Rogue mocked.
She turned into Jean Grey. "And that luscious doctor, the one he really wants, she’d love to know."
Now she was Bobby, his ice blue eyes gleaming. "And your cute widdle boyfriend." She shifted back to her original form. "So…which one shall we tell first?"
"No," Rogue whispered, horrified. Her secret would be out; she’d be the laughing stock of the X-Men. In the flash of a second, she came to a decision.
"If you tell anyone. If you come near me. If you talk to me, if you even LOOK at me again…" Rogue’s voice was dead and buried six feet below. "…I’ll kill you."
Again that alto laughter from above, but no more threats to tell. Thank God.
With as much dignity as she could muster, Rogue picked herself up and stalked back to the camp, heading straight for her tent without talking to anyone. Jean was busy with the Blackbird, St. John and Bobby were still by the fire, and Logan was nowhere to be seen. Another small praise to God; if she bumped into him now he’d be able to read her face like a book. Thankfully Ororo was asleep in the tent; Rogue crawled into her sleeping bag and rolled onto her side, facing the wall, tears of betrayal running down her cheeks.
Suddenly it finally dawned on her and she stiffened, biting her lip savagely to keep from crying out.
She had touched someone and nothing had happened.
Logan was busy suiting up and deliberately not looking at Jean Grey. Rogue was busy trying to to not get caught watching Logan suiting up while he was deliberately not looking at Jean Grey. Bobby, in his own world, was busy admiring the sleek leather uniform that was hanging on the rack.
"Where’s ours?" he asked Logan, practically drooling at the thought.
Logan yanked up the front zipper and rolled his shoulders inside the leather suit to get used to the feel. "On order. Should arrive in a few years." He stalked off, too preoccupied with his own problems to notice the way Rogue averted her eyes and blushed when he walked by. How was she ever going to face him again after what she did last night? Mystique had spoiled the thing she held most dear; she wasn’t comfortable in her own childish fantasies of him anymore-
Whispered words caught her attention; she pivoted on her heel and saw Magneto and Mystique huddled together on the bench, conspiring. Magneto looked up and noticed Rogue.
"We love what you’ve done with your hair."
Her anger blossomed into a whole new species of flower, Rogue was on ultra-rage autopilot as she took her glove off. All she saw was Mystique’s mocking smile and all she could think was that she was going to show her exactly why no one wanted Rogue to touch them, she was going to grab her and hold on until that blue bitch stopped grinning-
Then Bobby was holding her gently but firmly by the shoulders and telling her to forget about it, they weren’t worth her energy. Reason and self-preservation kicked in. Not here. Not now.
Oh, but you are, Rogue thought as she walked away, Mystique’s familiar laughter at her back. You’re most definitely worth it.
Later.
Part Two
The trip back from the Oval Office was a somber one, each member of the team thoroughly absorbed in their own thoughts. Professor Xavier, hoping that his message was taken to heart. Cyclops, his jaw clenched rigid as steel, trying to keep it together in the wake of his lost love. Iceman, the corners of his mouth tilted up a fraction of a fraction of an inch, secretly pleased in his official X-Men uniform. Nightcrawler, a casual observer that wished he was on the inside. Storm, the leader of the team for the time being, her gift guiding the Blackbird home. And in the back of the jet, Logan and Rogue, each refusing to meet the other’s eyes.
They scattered to the four winds once the Blackbird landed back in Westchester, New York. Bobby tried to corner her in the hallway outside the women’s changing room, but Rogue was not in the mood to deal with his excitement at being a team member. She was already trying to deal with the fact that Mystique had made a fool of her and also that, for the briefest moment, she controlled her skin. So she ducked away, mumbling something about ‘that time of the month.’ That usually shut them up real quick.
She wanted to be alone, and she wanted something to calm her raging heart. She tracked down Kitty Pryde.
"I dunno, Rogue, I could get kicked out for this," Kitty was complaining. Rogue shot a disparaging look at the 16-year-old; her plan wouldn’t work without the bubbly brunette and it was just her luck that she was chickening out.
"Come on, why not?" They were tiptoeing down an empty hallway in the eastern wing of the mansion, where the teachers’ quarters lay.
"Well gee whiz, let’s see," the younger girl started ticking off reasons, "One, we are twenty yards away from the most powerful telepath in the world. Two, when they realize it’s missing; they’re going start asking questions. When they’re looking for suspects, a girl who can walk through walls is usually first on their list. Three, we will be expelled-"
Rogue covered Kitty’s mouth with a gloved hand and scowled at her.
"Four, you’re big mouth is gonna get us caught before we do anything wrong," she whispered fiercely. Kitty rolled her eyes at her.
"Look," Rogue reasoned, "if we get caught, you can tell people that I touched you and then walked through the door myself."
Kitty shook her head against the gloved hand. "Mmm-mmmm-mph," she protested.
"Or," Rogue finished casually, "I really can touch you and do it myself." It was a rotten thing to say, but she was in a rotten mood. Kitty’s eyes got real wide and she agreed quickly. Rogue took her hand away.
"Fine. But the second someone asks me where it went, I’m squealing on you like a pig."
"Deal."
Kitty took Rogue’s gloved hand in hers and they both walked through the closed door.
It was dark in the room but since Kitty could walk through anything, she just held onto the older girl and they both stepped not over but through anything that was in their path. They stood in front of a locked mahogany cabinet. Kitty reached right through the door, a look of concentration on her face as she carefully felt the cabinet’s contents. She grabbed onto a bottle and withdrew her hand.
"No, that’s gin," Rogue whispered, and Kitty put it back. She tried again.
"That’s vodka. Feel for something with a square base."
Kitty put the vodka back and rifled around some more, finally got frustrated and poked her head through the wood. "Flashlight," she called from inside the cabinet. She felt Rogue plop her penlight into her hand and she brought it into the confined space, switched it on.
"A-ha!" She backed out of the cabinet and solidified, brandishing the bottle of Southern Comfort. Rogue grabbed it gratefully.
"Thanks, Kit, I owe you for this."
"Six months of doing dish duty for me. We agreed."
"Yup. Let’s go before we get caught."
Kitty muttered, shook her head ruefully. "Now she’s worried."
As they were crossing the room, the door opened and a dark shadow filled the doorway. A growl filtered through the room, low and dangerous, and the girls froze as the overhead light flipped on.
"Just what," Logan seethed, "do you two think you're doing?"
Rogue froze, not at the fear of being caught but at seeing Logan, dressed exactly like Mystique was during her devastating charade. Her cheeks began to flame as memories from that night flew to her forebrain. Just as she began to dissolve into tears, the Logan that resided in her head woke up from his slumber and poked his head up to see what was going on. His rashness took over.
Kitty immediately started stammering in fear, but Rogue tossed her hair over her shoulder and stood her ground.
"What does it look like we’re doing?" the alpha-wolf in her drawled, tilting its head and glaring up at him.
Logan gaped for all of two seconds and then matched her glare. He pinned Kitty with a stare that turned her knees to jelly.
"Out," he growled.
Rogue and Kitty started for the door; Logan’s hand clamped down on Rogue’s shoulder.
"Not you."
Kitty crept by him with a pitying look at Rogue: a cat slinking away from a fierce predator. "You’re…you’re not going to tell are you?"
Rogue started; there it was, that horrible word again. Tell. The Wolverine in her head was going to sleep again, leaving her flustered and broken with her shameful secret.
Logan bared his teeth at her, gave her his fiercest scowl. "If I ever catch you doing something like this again, me telling someone is going to be the least of your problems. Do you get me, sweetheart?"
Kitty nodded gratefully and was so flustered she ran smack into the wall instead of through it and fell down. She got up, rubbing her wounded nose and with a last sullen look at Rogue, slipped through the open door.
His furious gaze turned to Rogue. His eyes slipped from her crimson face down to the bottle of Southern Comfort she grasped tightly. He held out his open palm; without a word she handed it over. He still glowered at her.
"How’d you know we were here?" she finally said.
"I didn’t."
"Then why are you here?"
Logan tilted his head and arched his eyebrow, casting a significant look at the bottle. Rogue gaped at him, her discomfort with him forgotten in her amazed outrage. He was going to swipe the Southern Comfort as well; she had just beaten him to it.
"Walk with me, kid."
Walk? With him? She had spent the last week trying as hard as she could to avoid him. What happened that night, her secret confession to the Logan-Mystique was now a wall between them that she’d never be able to tear down. One look at his face, though, and she was hastily agreeing with him.
She silently followed him downstairs, pausing in the foyer as he strode out the door.
"I don’t have my jacket."
He shrugged his leather jacket off, tossed it to her. She caught it, shrugged it on, and was enveloped in his scent. Her throat constricted; it was almost as if he was doing this to deliberately torture her.
A horrible thought occurred to her. "Logan, what’s my name?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Her outburst won her a surprised look, something akin to the way Jubilee looked when confronted with spiders. "Are you feeling okay, kid?"
"What’s my name?" she repeated stubbornly.
"Marie, whatever game you’re playing, cut it out. I’m not in the mood." He took off across the lawn, not bothering to see if she followed.
She breathed a sigh of relief. It was him. A flash of her old anger and sass as she caught up to him. "You’re the one that wanted me here." Her retort slammed against the brick wall of his brooding anger, and she fell silent. He led them to the gazebo that sat, hidden behind a cluster of trees. Rogue bit her tongue to keep from babbling nervously; at this point she had no idea what would come out of her mouth. His back was to her and he was silent, staring out into the forest, so she sat on the bench-swing and stared at her gloved hands, waiting for him to start in on her.
"You could have gotten Kitty in a lot of trouble tonight," he finally said.
Rogue shrugged unhappily. "I know."
"You could have gotten in a lot of trouble tonight."
"I know."
She could almost feel his anger flarel; he had turned and was a menacing shadow glaring down at her. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"
Another shrug. "I have two old men living in my head, and both of them wanted some booze. What can I say?"
He turned away again, but not before she caught the guilt flash in his eyes. He was one of those men in her head and he knew it. It was the price one paid for touching the untouchable girl. She got to keep a piece.
Rogue found herself twisting nervously in her seat, and forced herself to calm down. She didn't like the way he was prowling back and forth along the edge of the gazebo; made her think that he was as uncomfortable as she was.
"Are you okay, kid?"
"I'm fine," she lied.
"You don't seem fine. You seem...tense."
"Kind of...it was my first mission, after all."
"Yeah. You did a great job."
She shifted on the swing, wrapped her arms around herself. "Thanks."
There it was; the flash of the bond that tied them together; he looked at her and she knew that he knew she was troubled.
"Listen, Marie. I...I was thinkin'...I was thinkin' of taking off again...just for a little while...but if you're going around stealing from the liquor cabinet and gettin' kids into trouble, maybe I should stick around."
Rogue's eyes widened. Oh God. When he said 'sticking around', he meant 'babysitting you and making sure you don't pull anymore wiseass stunts'. The thought terrified her; it was hard enough to hide her crush before, now she had to live with the fact that an evil mutant knew about it, and she had made out with said mutant thinking it was him. How the hell would she be able to keep that a secret? Even without actual telepathic ability, Logan could get inside her head just as easily as the Professor. If he stayed, he would eventually find out. And if he knew what she had done, he would hate her. At the very least, he would be so uncomfortable that he would never talk to her again. It was a lose/lose situation...unless he went away right now, before he found out. Unless he chose to go away.
"No, don't hang around just because of me," she heard herself say smoothly. The Erik in her head was a great liar. "I promise I won't pull another stunt like that...I'll even talk to the Professor about containing the bits of people I have inside."
He set the bottle down on the railing, forgotten now. He sat beside her on the bench, his sheer size taking up most of the room on the quaint two-seater swing. Rogue stiffened as she felt him against her side.
"Oh. Well...I thought maybe you'd want me to stick around," he said carefully.
That's it, Rogue, smile, and don’t let him think anything is wrong. "You have your own life. I never expected you to hang around a school. You're not the settle down type of guy. You should go, have some fun." Her smile was so wide and false that it was painful. But she kept it on her face, steady as a rock, not even faltering when she noticed the hurt look on his face, the way his body sank a few inches in disappointment.
He seemed to want to say something else and her heart sped up; she wouldn't be able to keep up her nonchalant facade for very much longer. But instead he stood up and grabbed the bottle. He lumbered down the steps of the gazebo before turning back to look at her. He looked so beautiful and sad in the moonlight that her heart felt like it was dying. All she wanted to do was run to him, wrap her arms around him and have him tell her everything would be all right.
Instead, she turned Erik's cold charm on full blast. "You'll be wanting your coat back before you go." She started to shrug out of it.
"It's all right kid, keep it."
One last twist of the knife, just to make sure he no longer felt he had to stay for her. Inside, she was screaming even as she calmly said, "No thanks. It's too big for me anyway." She slipped it off and held it out to him. That did the trick; his entire face shut down of all emotion. Logan was gone; the Wolverine was standing in front of her. Without another word he yanked the jacket back and was across the lawn in a heartbeat, bottle and leather coat clenched tight in his fists.
She knew sleep wouldn't come tonight, and she couldn’t bear to be somewhere where she would hear the motorcycle as the Wolverine left for destinations unknown, so she headed into the woods. It was dark and she couldn't see a damn thing but it didn't matter. In the span of two days, she lost a boyfriend, a colleague, and her best friend. She really didn't think anything hanging out in the forest by the mansion could hurt her worse than she was already hurting.
Logan mentioned hitting the road, and the idea was stuck in her head. The mansion was the only home she had, the X-Men her only family, but maybe she’d be able to deal with things better if she was on her own. She’d be able to experiment with controlling her skin without pressure. Maybe if she let the Erik in her head out of his box, he could convince Professor Xavier that she did indeed need to be alone. A Rogue.
She broke through the underbrush and stumbled over the rocks that surrounded the shore of the lake that bordered Xavier’s property. As she gazed across the water she saw she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep; a campfire was burning about half a mile down the beach. Although she wasn’t in the mood to be quizzed about why she was out so late on her own, she decided to check it out. After all, misery loves company. And she knew the person by the fire was miserable; even at this distance she could hear him crying out in pain.
Rogue approached quietly; she was at the edge of the campfire’s glow before Scott realized she was there. He tensed, immediately trying to slip back into the role of team leader. He couldn’t quite do it; the loss of Jean was too much to contain. He regarded her warily as she sat down on the sand across from him.
"What are you doing out here, Rogue?"
"Trying to get lost."
He snorted. His ruby shades reflected the light of the fire. "Me too."
Scott had been one of her teachers before she graduated, and he was also the mission leader of the X-Men. So much of him had been so wrapped up in Jean that Rogue had never approached him on more than a few occasions. But she always felt certain camaraderie with him; she couldn’t touch without gloves and he couldn’t open his eyes without his visor. Their gifts robbed them of one of the five senses. It was that fact that made her able to sit by him without talking and not feel awkward. She didn’t even mind his hitched breath, the way he bit at his knuckles every five minutes or so to keep in the sobs. She waited for him to speak.
"…It would be easier if I could cry. I remember being a kid; it felt so good to cry when you were sad. But now…" he gestured helplessly to his protective glasses. "I only…I only ever really saw her once. It was right before we rescued you from the torch. Sabretooth took away my visor and Magneto pinned me facing her; if I opened my eyes I would have killed her. But she told me to open them, to trust her. I did, and for a few seconds, I got to see her without anything between us." His brow furrowed as he remembered, but no tears came. They couldn’t.
"I miss her too," she finally said.
His jaw tensed. "She didn’t have to…to go…" his voice failed.
"It was her choice."
That did it; the sobs broke free. Scott hunched in on himself, his head buried in his hands. For a moment Rogue had a perfect basis for comparison for her own misery and she could be grateful; at least Logan was alive, even if she couldn’t see him. It wasn’t much solace, but it was enough to give her the courage to crawl on her hands and knees around the fire and softly, carefully, circle her arms around Scott. He clung to her like a vine; she let him.
It dawned on her that she’d be able to help him even more. Slowly, without him noticing, she tugged one of her gloves off. She stroked his hair with her fingers. His was so much softer and finer than Logan’s.
Rogue focused.
She didn’t ask his permission, she simply cupped her bare hand against his cheek, supporting the weight of his head. Where Logan’s skin was rough with whiskers, Scott's was smooth. It took him a few moments to acknowledge the skin-on-skin contact but when he did, he froze in her arms.
"Rogue…you…"
"Yeah," she whispered, keeping her entire being focused on staying in control.
"When…how?"
She didn’t answer him; she felt it start to slip from her grasp. That was okay; she wanted to do it-
Rogue lost control. His mouth dropped open as he felt the pull of her gift, the sucking of his energy through her skin. Images of Jean began to pour into her, as well as a sense of overwhelming loss. She held on for only a few seconds before throwing herself away from him, her eyes tightly shut. She could feel the hum of energy behind her closed lids; for at least a few minutes, she had his power. Which meant…
"What the fuck was that, Rogue? Why the hell would you pull a stunt like that?" From the sound of his voice, he was standing over her. She held out her hand.
"Give me your glasses."
"What? Why?"
Rogue turned her head away from him, toward the lake. She opened her eyes.
Pure energy blasted out of her ocular cavities and hit the lake; water shot up twenty-five feet in the air. She closed her eyes again, turned her scrunched up face back to Scott.
"That’s why."
The heavy glasses, warmed from the contact of his skin, were placed on her face. He silently adjusted them.
"Can I open my eyes now?"
A curt yes, and she looked up at him. The world was now literally seen through rose-tinted lenses.
"Huh," she said, and it seemed to sum it all up. She watched Scott rub at his temporarily normal eyes in amazement. He sat down on the log, patted the empty space next to him. It was as close to formal forgiveness as she was going to get, and she sat next to him.
"Why did you do that?"
She shrugged, scratched at the glasses, which were resting awkwardly on her nose. "I thought it would help."
"How is stealing my power supposed to help?"
She touched the tip of a gloved finger to his cheek and held it in front of his normal eyes. The fabric was wet. Up his hands went to his face; tears were leaking out of his eyes.
"Oh," he breathed. The wetness on his cheeks was just as foreign as the visor was to Rogue.
"I just wish she was here looking at you instead of me," Rogue said. It wasn’t coming from the Erik or Logan in her head; she genuinely meant it. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back; Scott cried real tears for the first time since his mutant power manifested. Rogue waited patiently for him to calm down. When he did, he wiped his nose on the back of his hand, blinked at her.
"Thank you."
Rogue shrugged. "No problem."
"I just…loved her so much. I was so afraid I was losing her to Logan." His voice hardened. "Turns out I lost her anyway. We all did."
She couldn’t help the hitched breath, the way her chin trembled at his name. It would have been something Scott would have missed on any normal day, but for the moment his vision was extra sharp.
"You didn’t come all the way out here just because you wanted some fresh air, did you?"
Rogue bit her lips, held her head high.
"Rogue? Talk to me?"
She suddenly understood how much it meant to Scott that she took his gift for a few precious minutes; all she wanted to do was cry and all she could do was feel her eyes burn with energy. She shook her head viciously. "You wouldn’t understand." But her breath was coming in gasps; she was about to cry in words instead of tears.
His voice was low, sincere. "I promise. Anything you say stays between us."
She opened her mouth to say no again, but found she was already talking about walking in the woods on the night the Blackbird went down, how Mystique had seduced her in the form of Logan, the secret the metamorph now held over Rogue’s head. How her love felt spoiled by a false Logan’s touch. How she couldn’t bear to face the real Logan knowing what a fake one tasted like. She’d never again be satisfied as his ‘kid,’ and he’d never see her as anything but. The entire time, Scott listened silently.
"He…he asked if I wanted him to stay," she hiccupped, her nose red and running. "I…I said he shouldn’t stick around. I pushed him away."
Scott was blunt. "You have to tell him the truth."
Rogue was horrified, tried to move away but the older man grabbed her arm, held her fast.
"Listen to me, Rogue. We will find Mystique. We will make her pay. But…you have to tell him. If you don’t, you’re giving her that much more power over you. You are on the X-Men for a reason; you’re strong, intelligent, and you’re not afraid to fight for what you believe in. But if you keep this to yourself, if you spend your entire life worried that someone will let him know how you feel…you’re letting her be in control."
He leaned in close, so close his breath fogged the ruby-quartz lenses of the glasses. "Don’t ever let anyone have control over you, Rogue. You’re better than that."
If she could cry, she’d be a waterfall. "What if he says no?" she whispered as a weak-hearted attempt to avoid the inevitable.
"That's something you're strong enough to face. But at least you'll know. Just don’t let him leave thinking you don’t care." He swallowed, his eyes filled with tears again. "Trust me…although I know he wanted Jean for himself…and as much as we’ve been at odds…he deserves to know the truth." Scott chuckled sadly. "Although, I’ll be honest…if he does hear the truth and can’t deal with it…he doesn’t deserve you."
He started to say something else but his eyes widened. "Uhhh, Rogue?"
Hey voice was watery. "Yeah?"
His eyes closed tightly, a hand pressed to his forehead. "I think I need my glasses back."
Rogue blinked, closed her eyes and removed the visor. She turned her head to the lake again and tentatively opened one eye. Nothing. She handed the shades back, watched with a tight face as Scott adjusted the protective lenses over his eyes. He sighed wistfully. "Thanks again. I owe you."
She shook her head. "No. You don’t. You’ve already paid me back." She stood. "If you’ll excuse me…I have to run like the wind if I’m going to catch him."
"You can do this."
Rogue nodded, smiled gratefully, and took off at a dead run back toward the mansion.
Rogue ran so fast and so hard that by the time she reached his door she felt like her heart was about to explode. She stood in the teacher’s hallway, gasping, her face red and her heart pounding like a jackhammer. She reached for the doorknob and froze.
What if he’s already left?
Her heart raced faster and then froze; Rogue clutched at her chest. Jesus, she had to calm down or else she’d die of a heart attack before the embarrassment of what she was about to do had a chance to kill her.
She reached for the knob again but the door opened and there he was, his expression frozen halfway between surprised and surly. It finally settled on sullen.
"Whaddya want, kid?"
She had to make a concerted effort not to bit her lips, twist her hands together or fidget nervously. Cyclops's words ran through her head like a mantra; she was strong enough to do this. He deserved to know. No one should have the ability to control her. No one.
"I have to talk to you."
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.
"No. Inside."
She got a raised eyebrow as an initial response, but he moved aside. She walked by him, refusing to let herself shiver at his proximity. His room was dark but she saw the duffel bag, packed and waiting in the center of the neatly made bed. All traces of Logan had been erased from the walls and dresser tops.
"That was quick."
He shrugged. "I got nothin' to stay around for," he said, low and dangerous. "What did you want to talk about? I was gonna hit the road before dawn."
She turned and looked at him, really looked at him. Images flashed through her mind; seeing him for the first time, half naked and more wolf than man as he dominated the cage fights in Laughlin City. The horror over his nightmare fleeing into the horror of realizing he had stabbed her with his claws. The blatant concern as he tracked her down in the train. The wide, genuine smile he couldn't keep off his face when he saw her again after two years of being away. And then, the last; the hurt, beaten look she saw not two hours ago as she ran him off with her words. At the very least...if he was going to hate her, it had to be for the right reason.
She faced the window, focused her gaze on his dark shadow that was reflected against the glass. As she watched in the reflection, he pulled up a chair and sat down.
"You were right. I'm not okay." She took a deep breath. "I have to tell you something. And when I'm done tellin', you may very well want to never see me again."
"Marie, I won't-"
She held up her hand, cutting him off. "Don't say you won't. You don't know. Whatever you decide...I understand. I just want you to know that I'll understand."
He remained a silent energy at her back, waiting. Where to start?
"I can control my skin." Well...it was definitely a bombshell beginning.
"What? When...how?"
"Three days ago. While we were waiting for the Blackbird to be repaired. I just...it happened. I touched someone and it was safe."
"Who?" The tone in his voice implied he thought she had slept with Bobby. It was a typical Logan-esque thought but it made her want to laugh and scream at the same time.
"Mystique."
His growl was low and scratchy. "Why were you touchin' Mystique, kid?"
Rogue sighed, closed her eyes. "Because she looked like you."
Thick silence filled the room, so heavy it weighed down on her like a physical thing. She could only guess what was going on in his head, and none of it could be good. She didn't want him to ask any more questions, she didn't want to hear the disappointment in his voice, so she plowed on, her words running together until they were a blur.
"You found me and you came onto me. I was just so excited that you were finally interested in me that I didn't stop to think about who was one of the uninvited guests. And then you asked me again, provoking me to overcome my gift. You gave me an ultimatum, control my skin in five seconds or lose you and five seconds was up and the thought of never..." she faltered, but only for a second, "...never kissing you, never getting to be with you terrified me and the next second we were kissing and my skin was under control. Only I eventually realized what was bugging me; you kept calling me Rogue and you never call me Rogue. Then I heard you and Jean arguing about something by the Blackbird and...and I realized..."
Tears were running down her face as freely as if she were a faucet. His silence at her back was deathly but she had to continue.
"She threatened to tell everyone, tell Bobby, tell Jean, tell you how I really felt and I just-"
"You panicked."
His voice was strained and husky and it made her tears dissolve into controlled hiccupy sobs. She nodded, buried her head in her gloved hands. "I didn't mean what I said tonight. I wanted...I wanted you to go away before you found out. I love you so much, not just like that; as my best friend too, but after what she did I just feel like she spoiled our relationship...spoiled me-"
Logan was intense. "Yer not spoiled, kid." He had stood and was directly behind her now. Rogue froze, waiting for...something.
"She had no right to manipulate our feelings."
Rogue's eyes popped open. She froze. "What?"
"She had no right to do what she did. She...she fooled us both."
She turned slowly, chin tilted up to meet his gaze for the first time since she entered the room. "Both?"
"Yeah. Both. Mystique came to me too. I'm not gonna lie to ya, she was Jean when she snuck in my tent. I guess I felt like you did; I wanted to believe Jean changed her mind about wantin' me. I realized who she was pretty quick but then she started...changing. Offering herself to me in any form I wanted."
He stepped closer and Rogue was overwhelmed with his scent; pine and soap and cigars.
"When she changed into you, I just kind of lost it. Because it felt like you on top of me, smilin' at me and waitin' for me to kiss you and..."
She was terrified to talk but she was also curious; the latter won. "And?"
"and I realized I really wanted to."
Rogue gasped; she felt like someone punched her in the stomach. She tried to speak and couldn't.
"I was messed up about wantin' Jeannie and then after Mystique made me see you in a whole new light and, well...I shut down for awhile."
"So you don't hate me?" she breathed.
He laughed, an honest-to-God laugh that seemed so out of place in the serious discussion they were having that it threw Rogue for a loop.
"Hate you? Jesus, baby, the way you were practically shoving me out the door tonight, I thought you hated me."
Another step closer. Now he really was invading her personal space.
"What are you doing?"
"Something I wanted to do earlier tonight." Logan took another step forward, blocking her between the cool glass of the window and his hard body. He leaned down; she recoiled and bumped her head against the glass.
"Logan, my skin!" Whoa, deja vu.
A slow, wolfish grin spread over his face; pure Logan. God, how could she have ever confused Mystique's Logan for the real thing? She didn't have the moves, the smell, the sheer sexuality of this man-
"You said you could control it. I think we should do a trial run."
He gave her three seconds before his lips were on hers. She didn't dare move; they waited to see if she could actually control it. Nothing happened, no pull, nada, zip, zilch. With a groan he opened his mouth and deepened the kiss, teasing and tasting her tongue. Rogue moaned; any fears that Mystique had spoiled the idea of Logan for her were crushed beneath the sheer desire behind his kisses. All her the other kisses in her life paled next to Logan as he explored her mouth with his tongue, gently at first and then with an intensity that made her mind whirl.
Something hit the back of her knees; she looked down and realized he had manuevered them to the bed. She sat down on the matress, gazed up at him and licked her swollen lips. He groaned, knelt down in front of her and took her gloved hands in his.
"I don't wanna leave, Marie."
"I don't want you to go."
"If I stay...I'm not gonna lie about what I want, not to the Professor or Scott or Iceman...anyone."
"What do you want?" she whispered.
"You." He joined her on the bed, sitting next to her. "I want you, Marie. I know you're young, and I'm willin' to start out slow. This is..." Logan grinned and scratched his head, suddenly looking like a shy boy. "...this is new for me too."
He looked at her, fear and desire mixed in his eyes. "I love ya, Marie, I really do."
What else was there to say? "I love you, too."
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Story Notes:
This story is my brainchild born from hypothesizing about alternate scenes from X-2. Part 1 takes place during the movie, Part 2 will take place after it. I am throwing this story together in the span of 72 hours, it may be a little raw but that's ok. Thanks to Karen and UKTara for being last-minute betas for me!!! Cyclops's powers come into question in the middle of Part 2. While it may or may not go along with movie canon, this is *my* interpretation of his mutant ability. Just wanted to get that out there so I don't get fifty comments on "Well Scott can blah blah but he can't blah blah blah blah." :O) Cool!