Normally, Rogue found the thumping beat of the club music a soothing melody that comforted her into a numbing zone that was usually helped along by the drink in her hand. Despite the fact she was on her third drink she felt her head pound and it felt like the walls were closing in on her. Her balance was all thrown off. The reason why, was most obvious to her and she hated to admit it.
Logan.
It was such a pain in her ass to have to confront the fact that she had a past. Logan made her feel all kinds of things she’d learned to suppress a long time ago. It wasn’t fair that he seemed to have this power over her, because suddenly she was questioning and thinking and wondering who she was trying to be, because he’d gone and tilted her world view.
He seemed to honestly care about her and when she gazed into his eyes she saw the familiar warmth and strength she’d often looked to in him and it sparked something inside of her because there was a glimmer of change in his concern. A change that seemed to be more than just a sense of protectiveness, he looked at her like she held the secrets to the world. He looked at her like he wanted her.
Behind all the regret and the anger, his hazel eyes bore into her with a strength she couldn’t ignore, a willingness to communicate.
Sighing, Rogue shook the ice around in her drink and took a big gulp, hoping to feel the familiar numbness. Hoping to forget the way his finger had felt on her skin even though it had only been for a second, trying to forget the heat that had arisen up in her at his touch and his concern. Closing her eyes, she willed the recollection away even though she thought she could feel the phantom traces of his warm breath on her neck.
There was a sound of glass breaking and she opened her eyes as the shards of glass that had once been her drink lay upon her gloved hand.
“Try not to break the supplies here Rogue,” Mystique spoke as she slid into the seat across from her in the booth.
“They’d only just managed to fix the repairs on the front entrance due to that Cajun.”
“It was an accident,” she mumbled sourly and glanced down at the table.
“If I knew you would get this uptight, maybe I wouldn’t have thought to get the X-Men involved.”
Raising her gaze she glared at the other woman. “Spare me the motherly concern. It doesn’t matter what I object to, you’ll always go along and make any decision that will be most rewarding for yourself!”
Without missing a beat Mystique’s eyes narrowed but she kept a small smile on her face.
“Now is not the time for one of your episodes, not when we are lacking such privacy.”
Rogue scowled at her and refused to glance across the room where she knew Bobby, Jubilee and Logan were sitting.
Instead, she crushed her palm closed and felt the glass crunch under her hand and she watched with concentration as she lifted her closed fist up and slowly lifted each finger away as sand poured down towards the table top.
“Really, Rogue,” Mystique began more softly and Rogue figured she was trying to sound apologetic. “What has you so bothered? This isn’t like you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know you far better than those people over there will.”
She remained quiet as she lazily moved her fingers through the sand.
“Even after all this time and you still concern your thoughts with that beast over there.”
She glanced up sharply.
“He’ll never give you what you want, Rogue. He knew how you felt and spent his time skirt chasing Dr. Jean Grey and once she was gone, he only proved to you how much of a second thought you were. He doesn’t know you.”
Tilting her head, she felt an odd sly smile drift onto her face. “I’m Rogue remember, nobody knows me.”
Mystique sighed, her shoulders dropping a level but her slim neck remained tall and her head high.
“You’ll get over this soon enough when their help is no longer needed,” Mystique paused and eyed her openly. “And if even then you’re feeling this way I would not object to you working your issues out with the Wolverine in a much more physical manner, perhaps then you’ll realize that is all he has to offer you.”
“Do you ever tire of sex being a weapon as well?”
Mystique smiled and her red tongue licked her top lip.
“Never.”
Hardly straining a muscle she rolled her eyes.
“Let’s just get this over with,” she muttered and leaned forward as her elbows rested on the table and she cradled the sides of her head.
“How did Graydon look?”
“As arrogant as ever,” she replied.
Mystique laughed deeply.
“What’s Storm going to do with those charming three FOHers?”
Mystique frowned. “She says they will be arrested, it appears they all have records anyways, won’t be hard to get them up for something.”
She smiled at the other woman’s tone. “You sound sad.”
“It’s not how I would have dealt with them.”
“Yes, but that’s why you and the X-Men differ,” she finished with a sarcastic snort.
“And where is it that you fit in Rogue?” she asked quietly.
“I’m here aren’t I,” she snapped back.
Mystique nodded and her smile grew after a moment.
“When will we hear back from the others?”
“Soon, I hope,” Mystique replied. “Storm of course wished to check back on the school and apparently the Kitten and her steel giant will be working on the best way to get into Creed’s building. They appeared hopeful that the security system would be easy to break into.”
“Right,” she muttered with a nod and leant back in her seat. “Didn’t think we’d still need any babysitters.”
Mystique’s yellow eyes darted across the room towards the other X-Men. “I could tell you that maybe they’re just concerned for us but really you know it’s all about keeping tabs on one another. Business is like that.”
She nodded again. “Just business, right,” she whispered low.
Before she could hear another bit of advice from the other woman, Rogue slipped out of her seat and made her way towards the bar. Making her way through a few mindless dancers she tried to ease the tension out of her body but Mystique had only made her more up tight.
Taking a seat at the bar a glass filled with whiskey was already in front of her. She smiled up in appreciation at John.
“Thanks,” she murmured and raised it immediately to her lips.
He smiled at her and reached behind the counter as he pulled up two shot glasses and began to fill them with tequila.
“I think we both deserve these,” he murmured as he eyed the corner of the room where the X-Men were.
She laughed lightly with honest relief.
“Bobby’s been glaring at me ever since he got here; I think he’s trying to figure out how he can set me on fire simply by looking at me.”
She laughed again. “I don’t think we’re their favourite people right now.”
He smirked and nodded as he put the tequila bottle back.
“I suppose they have their reasons,” he muttered and raised his glass to her. She picked hers up and clicked his with an affectionate smile as they each downed the shot.
She smacked her lips and placed the shot upside down on the counter. “You always pick the good stuff.”
His mouth cracked open into a wide smile that emphasized the scar on his face but he didn’t mind. “Only for my best customers.” He wiped the counter down and then swung the towel over his shoulder as he paused in sudden deep thought. “But then again I don’t think you’ve ever picked up a tab.”
“Hey,” she started in mock sternness. “If you’re after the money you’re talking to the wrong Darkholme.”
He nodded with a smile but his eyes drifted off into the distance. “I think Bobby’s glare has gone up a few degrees.”
“You know,” she began slowly. “You could always go and talk to him.”
“Sure, it’s that easy, Rogue,” he drawled sarcastically. “Why aren’t you over there taking your own advice?”
“Because there is nothing for me to say to them, but you,” she paused and pointed at him across the bar. “Left Bobby as your best friend and you did it so fast he didn’t get a chance to know why.”
Casting his eyes down towards the ground for a moment he nodded and leant across the bar from her. “You forgave me,” he whispered.
“I forgave you because I understood how confused you felt but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t angry with you when you’d left. Bobby though hasn’t gotten the chance to understand.”
Slowly, his lips stretched into a smile. “I suppose you’re right,” he whistled low.
“Aren’t I always,” she smiled mischievously behind her glass as she sipped it.
“Still though,” he began carefully. “Something tells me you didn’t end things so well with the Wolverine over there.”
Her smile fell and he smirked in response. “Bobby was never going to be the one you left behind Rogue, I knew that and I think even he knew that. You didn’t leave things unfinished with Bobby because he didn’t mean that much to you, but something tells me when you left Xavier’s you ran away all the same, just you’re running from someone else.”
“When did you get so fuckin’ smart,” she bit out but he only smiled at her and topped her drink off.
“Because you and I are looking for the same thing, Rogue, someone to understand us.”
“Next time, tell me to keep my mouth shut before I try to give you any helpful advice.”
He laughed loudly. “It ain’t me that’s the pain in your ass.”
She rolled her eyes and relented as she shook her head at him in playful annoyance.
“He watches you, you know,” he whispered low suddenly.
“I know,” she murmured, her fingers fumbling around the rim of her glass.
“They all are,” she muttered dejectedly.
“His eyes tell a different story and something tells me you’re too afraid to find out.”
He turned around and walked towards the other end of the bar to help a customer and she followed his back with a glare but her eyes drifted along the mirror against the bar and she saw Logan watching her from across the room.
She gasped quietly and tried to look away but she couldn’t.
Something caught her attention.
Something was different.
His gaze was suddenly so open and gone was the wonderment and accusations in his harsh stare; he was watching her with a hopefulness she didn’t wish to understand.
Hopefulness led to wanting.
Turning away quickly, she tried to ignore it but she could feel the mark he was leaving on her back as he watched her, as though she could feel his touch burning beneath her clothes and caressing her skin.
It made her want to feel things.
It made her want to remember how much she use to dream about him, how much she’d wanted him as hers.
The walls closed in around her tighter and tighter.
Quickly, she glanced down at her drink and raised it to her mouth. The ice caressed her lips and the amber liquid moved smoothly through her and she tried to concentrate on the contrast of the coldness against her mouth and the spike of hotness that moved through her with each swallow.
She was going to focus on making her world small again.
***
She could feel herself struggling. Her breath ragged with each gasp for air. Her fingernails were dirty with sand and mud. The heat of the sand burnt her skin where it showed through her torn uniform. The once magnificent leather tarnished and dull, the emblem of the X unrecognizable.
Climbing up towards the light and out of the sand pit she struggled desperately as she aimed higher each time, the sun towering up in the sky, so big that it burned right through her.
Reaching the top of the pit she gasped for open air as she flopped to the ground already weakened.
Glancing up there was nothing but open space for miles and miles, the hills of sand the only distinctive occurrence.
The sand whipped around her and she felt unclean as it clung to her sweat covered skin and she closed her eyes to fight off the sting she felt from the grainy bits.
There was nothing but silence around her; a hollowness that ate at her despite the open landscape.
She was alone.
Standing to her feet she swallowed dryly and turned around hesitantly, looking for what she wasn’t sure of.
Behind her a small hut appeared, a pair of sand covered steps leading into the dark entrance.
Feeling drawn to it, she stepped forward despite the weakness she felt and welcomed the coolness of the shadows.
Her bare hand rested against the inside of the bricks that made the small hut and she rested for a moment.
“Who’s there?” she gasped.
A match sparked to life in the middle of the darkness and a torch was lit in the middle of the room and the others burst into flame along the walls touched by some unseen breath forming a circle.
“Take a rest my child,” a faded feminine voice spoke up as a figure clad in a brown hooded cloak stepped into the circle of the room.
She staggered forward.
“You have journeyed far and yet you have remained the same.”
“I don’t understand,” she gasped.
The hooded figure reached behind them upon a small altar and brought a wooden bowl forward filled with water.
“Drink the life, my child.”
Hesitantly, her figures reached forward and sipped at the bowl eagerly, feeling the water cool her dry throat.
“What is this place?”
“Do you not recognize the bones of your fellow kind?”
She shook her head in confusion and put the bowl down.
“The ashes blow across this land for it is the destiny of those who have befallen the way of the truth.”
Sand suddenly lifted up from the ground and whipped around the hooded figure.
“Destruction or Life that is the choice,” the hooded figure spoke, as their voice echoed louder and louder.
She felt afraid. Fear trembling up from the base of her spine and turning her blood cool with a paralyzing ease.
“I don’t understand,” she cried.
Abruptly the scenery around them changed as they remained in the circle of sand. Bodies lay dying around them as screams were heard in the distance. The sky was dark and red light beamed in the distance and large objects flew in the sky, blocking out the stars.
“What is it?” she gasped.
The hooded figure did not reply and remained still.
Two bright yellow lights flared to life in the sky and she opened her eyes wide in fear as a large mechanical beast stared down at her.
“Halt mutant,” the sentinel decreed.
“The end is near,” the hooded figure replied. “You must choose.”
“Take me away from this place,” she begged.
“I cannot,” the dark figure replied. “For it is waiting to happen.”
“Don’t show me anymore,” she cried and scrunched her eyes closed. “I’m not the one,” she whispered low. “I’m not the one.”
“Open your eyes child,” the hooded figure demanded.
Slowly, she did and she screamed in horror as the image around them changed again and ruins of cities lay before her. A lone figure hooded in black stood outside of the circle but did not move. Stumbling to her feet in odd fascination she approached the edge.
“What is this place?” she gasped.
The black hooded figure turned suddenly and a strangled gasp caught in her throat as she stepped back. A much older version of herself stood staring back at her, her eyes a swirl of colours and rage. Familiar gloved hands created orbs of yellow light and threw them off into the distance at a decrepit building. The walls of the building crumbled immediately.
“This is our home,” the older version of her spoke in a cold detached manner. “Our playground,” she murmured.
“For it is foretold,” the hidden feminine voice spoke up behind her.
“No, no,” she gasped and stepped back.
She was stopped short as she felt a touch on her shoulder. Glancing down she was startled again when she realized a bone hand was touching her. The touch of death. The hooded woman turned her around and pulled her hood down.
Falling to her knees, she glanced up in awe, at the strange woman with a bald head and eyelids that were sown shut.
“For it is foretold,” the strange woman whispered. “The choice is yours.”
“No...” she gasped again and the images around the circle flickered again and again, too quickly for her to focus on the flash of colours.
The hooded woman reached down towards the ground and lifted a handful of sand in vain as the tiny grains trickled down quickly through her skeleton hand.
“The words are there and so are the sands of time,” the woman’s voice rose up. “But that which is yet to pass cannot be known for it is not written in the wind...”
The sand whipped around faster and faster and the woman’s voice was fading and she struggled to hear but something grabbed her from behind and jolted her back into the darkness.
Rogue awake with a violent jerk and found herself hitting her shoulder against the wall of the booth in response. She scrunched her eyes closed as she tried to focus, the bump to her shoulder the least of her worries.
“Rogue.”
She gasped and sat up straight as she blinked twice and focused on a concerned Logan who was sitting across from her. He looked unsettled.
“Logan,” she gasped.
She tried to smile but her hands trembled underneath the table.
“You startled me,” she added. “I must have dozed off.”
Small lines in his forehead creased as he frowned.
“You looked like you were having a nightmare,” he replied shortly and his eyes didn’t waver from her face.
She tried to shake his concern off with a smile but found her nerves were shot.
“Was it one of mine?” he asked quietly.
A sharp empty laugh escaped her so quickly that could have been easily been mistaken for a sob. “No....no,” she mumbled and looked him in the eye. “My nightmares are all my own now.”
“I’m fine really, Logan,” she spoke up after he remained silent. “Is there something you wanted?”
“You’re not fine,” he replied. “Your heart is still racing a mile a minute; I’m surprised it isn’t bursting out of your chest.”
Her plastered smile faltered.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she whispered. “It’s nothing, Logan,” she added again, trying to sound stern.
Bringing her hand up she reached for her glass and tried to steady her nerves but she knew it was pointless with Logan. Her glass was empty.
“Here,” he spoke up. “Have some water.”
She frowned at his overt concern but pulled the glass of water closer to her. “Thanks,” she muttered.
She wanted to rub her temples, as her head pounded with aftershocks of her nightmare but the action would only draw more of Logan’s attention.
Clearing her throat gently she reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette, hoping it would help calm her nerves.
Logan’s frown deepened.
“Why do you smoke those things?”
“My vices make living what its worth,” she replied and found she had enough strength for a small smirk finally.
His eyes narrowed and she waited for another retort but he sat back in his seat. “Get another damn better brand then,” he muttered. “Besides I thought you liked cigars.”
She pointed the cigarette at him. “Correction, you like cigars.”
At her words his frown not only deepened if possible but a mixture of shame slipped into it.
She sighed and glanced away. After absorbing Logan she had acquired his taste for cigars and still to this day she enjoyed them but they held to much sentimental power for her. She’d even associated the smell of a fine cigar with Logan even before he’d given her his power. She’d been fascinated by them when he smoked one. She remembered once, after Logan had left the first time after Liberty Island Scott had found her smoking one on the roof of the mansion, she remembered his shocked face clearly and it made her smile fondly.
Logan’s head tilted up and his interest was piqued again as he no doubt caught her fond smile. Quickly, she frowned and put the cigarette in her mouth.
“Marie,” he began quietly.
She turned and glanced up at him, and pulled the cigarette out.
“Yes,” she murmured.
“I’m worried about you,” he replied and looked her right in the eye.
Her mouth dropped open a little and she automatically felt her defenses go up but he continued on before she had a chance.
“I know maybe that’s not something you want to hear,” he muttered and glanced away for a moment. He too appeared overwhelmed by the emotion in his words as a few small lines creased along his forehead. “And I don’t mean about what you’re doing exactly – it’s just – something appears to be bothering you personally and affecting you.”
“Everyone has something going on with them Logan, that’s the way life is.”
He nodded.
“I just want you to know, even though you don’t want to hear it, I’m willing to find out what you need,” he added, the words caught behind clenched teeth but his eyes were clear.
Her heart continued to beat thunderously inside her chest.
“You want to help me?” she reiterated in disbelief.
He nodded again.
Logan just had a habit of catching her off guard. She wanted to believe but she was a different kind of girl and right now she was weary of a lot of possibilities.
“Logan, in case you didn’t get the memo,” she began. “When I left, I relieved you of your promise to me.”
He watched her for a moment and she couldn’t gauge what he was thinking.
“You make my promise sound like an obligation,” his voice was tense and he sounded offended.
She shrugged.
“I made that promise because I care about you, because you’re my friend, because...”
She laughed bitterly and tried to focus on her anger to get her through the hurricane of emotions she felt over taking her.
“Friends, Logan?” she echoed darkly. “I hardly saw you. You were just somebody who came along and played hero for a while. You were already prime X-Men material.” And if she said it enough she thought she just might believe it more and more each day herself.
He shook his head at her and he was furious. “That’s not how it was and you know it.”
She smirked at him and opened her mouth to reply but he interrupted her sharply. “Just stop it.”
Narrowing her eyes at him she slipped out of the booth quickly.
“Here’s a new promise for you, Logan,” she muttered as she walked by him. “I promise you, you don’t have to worry yourself with looking out for me anymore.”
She continued to walk away without looking back as she made her way for the STAFF door. If she kept walking and she focused on how many steps were ahead of her, she knew she would make it in time before she felt her frayed nerves and mixed emotions over take her.
Her head swam with every one of Logan’s words, expressions and his actions and she felt the beat of her heart increase. She tried to steady her breathing and as she reached the door, her heartbeat continued to rise in its rhythm and the weight of the journal she’d taken weighed heavily in her jacket pocket over her heart, dragging her down further and further.
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