He made himself stay and listen as the door clicked shut behind her and he heard her fading footsteps retreat down the pathway. He made himself stay, and somehow the punishment just didn’t seem enough. His nostrils flared in the empty foyer and her scent clung to the air around him and his hands clenched tighter in response. The smell of salt on the air making everything that much harder to understand and to accept.
He’d gotten his goodbye and nothing filled the empty hole in his chest.
Snarling, he opened his eyes and stalked forward down the hall way.
He kicked the door wide open and Storm and Hank jumped up in surprise.
“Logan!” she exclaimed.
Ignoring the two of them he made his way around the Professor’s desk and started to scan the book shelves. His hands picking up books and glancing inside of them before discarding them without a second thought.
“Logan, what are you doing?” Storm’s voice drifted somewhere behind him but he was to concentrated in his search, too focused in trying not to completely lose it.
He snarled deeply as he rummaged through book after book. Shakespeare’s works, the works of Plato and several other well quoted philosophers, but nothing stood out of the ordinary, no hidden secrets, and no answers to be claimed.
“Is everything alright, Logan?” Hank spoke up.
Grasping the shelf in front of him, his chest heaved as he took a deep breath.
“Where does the Professor keep all his old files?”
“Logan...”
His head whipped around incredibly fast as he narrowed his gaze on a perplexed Storm.
“I know the two you kept all of his old files, on mutants on whatever else he had going on and I want access to them right now,” he demanded.
Storm swallowed slowly. “Alright, Logan, but what exactly are you looking for?”
His eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know.”
“We haven’t gotten a chance to go through all of his files yet, Charles kept a massive about of information about the mutant world,” Hank began as he pushed his glasses up his blue furry nose.
“I don’t need a pep talk, bub, I just need access.”
Hank nodded slowly. “We’ll have to proceed to the lower levels.”
Logan cracked his neck and stepped over the mass of scattered books.
“This doesn’t have anything to do about Rogue does it?” Hank began. “I’m not sure if I can ethically give you access to her file and...”
Logan abruptly craned his neck towards Hank. “Access now,” he demanded and stalked out of the room.
“I wouldn’t get in the way of things when it concerns Wolverine and Rogue, Hank,” Storms calm voice drifted down the hallway.
“Yes, I see,” Hank coughed. “What exactly was the extent of their relationship?”
Logan scowled to himself as he continued.
“I think it would be best to simply tell you it was,” Storm paused for a moment. “Intense and complicated.”
“HANK!” Logan growled down the hall. “Now.”
Hank’s furry form hurried out of the room and followed him. “No reason to shout, Logan.”
His nostrils flared as he waited for Hank to catch up at the elevator. His eyes on the doors as his nerves twitched, the feeling of having to be doing something was immense. Focus was the only thing that kept him from losing it.
The doors dinged open and they stepped in.
“By the way, blue, if you have any questions about my personal business it be best you stay out of it.”
Hank fumbled with his glasses as he rubbed them on his suit. “Yes, I see now that perhaps it was not the best route to ask Ororo such an intuitive question.”
“Just type in the access codes and you can be on your way, Hank.”
The doors opened in the lower levels and he walked out without a glance back.
***
“Logan, as a word of caution before you proceed with your hurried actions, Charles’ files, now that he is gone really should only be viewed by Storm as she is the legal owner now and...” Hank coughed lightly and pushed his glasses up his nose in a nervous habit. “As the doctor on the premises it is only ethically sound that the two of us have access to these files and...”
“Sorry, blue, but it’s hard for me to believe your little speech when you’re stuttering so much,” Logan growled as he sat in front of the computer in the small storage room.
He smirked as he sensed Hank’s hackles up go.
“Look, Hank,” he began in a less hostile voice. “I appreciate the concern but we both know its bullshit.”
Hank sputtered in protest but Logan continued, “’Ro hasn’t had much time to go through all of Charles’ things even in the past year and a half; she’s been too busy keeping the school and the X-Men above ground. And we both know you’re a busy man yourself, Hank, when you’re looking after the kids or making your trips to Washington, being an X-Men, so all in all,” he turned around in his chair and bared his teeth. “I don’t see much harm coming from me taking a peek around when it concerns things far more important than polite ethics of a dead man.”
Hank’s eyes widen a fraction and before a glare could fully form on his furry face the fight went out of the doctor and he nodded dismally.
“Yes, well I see you have things on your mind,” Hank responded and turned to leave the room, as he made his way around a large filing cabinet. “I’ve already let you into the system, you won’t need any further access codes, but I don’t know what you wish to find my friend. The files are an endless and chaotic mess of information.”
Logan smirked to himself as he glared back at the computer screen. His tongue clamped down as he kept quiet not wanting to discourage the good doctor any further with remarks about how Xavier was good at keeping secrets and that all his actions had a purpose.
Hank shuffled out of the room without another word.
With a focused mind, he proceeded with the endless task of trying to decipher which files were worthless and which ones would pick up a trail.
Clicking through a few documents, he found the records of all of Xavier’s students and X-Men. He spotted his name but suppressed the urge from becoming further distracted. His eyes lit up as he clicked on Rogue’s file and he sat back in surprise as data after data virtualized on the screen.
Leaning in, he frowned as his eyes scanned her information, knowing that Rogue had only given the bare minimum of information to the X-Men when she’d enrolled. He even recalled Xavier smiling at him once telling him it was common for runaways to keep things to themselves and that no one would push them otherwise. A purposed safe haven.
But there are no secrets with a telepath.
It had been a deceitful smile.
Rogue’s real name was listed and she’d only ever freely told him and it felt like a betrayal to know Xavier’s all knowing power had intruded on their little secret.
Her date of birth was listed and several medical records that had been required within the first few weeks she’d been at Xavier’s after her absorption of both Magneto and himself.
Scanning the rest of the file, what followed was nothing but double speak about her skin and even he could tell it was useless information.
Sighing, he back tracked through the records and noticed that while all the other files followed in alphabetical order, Jean’s file followed right after Rogue’s.
Opening it, knowing that after the Phoenix incident Xavier had no longer been able to hide the knowledge of Jean’s power he wasn’t surprised by the endless information of Xavier’s work in creating mental blocks in Jean’s head as a young girl.
Scrolling down he noticed several other links and clicked on the one-labelled ‘Class 5’. A small list popped up immediately of names but he didn’t recognize most of them until he came to the bottom.
Frowning, he opened the one with Rogue’s name.
His eyes wandered back and forth over the screen and he felt the mouse creak in his clenched fist.
The moment Rogue had walked through the doors of Xavier’s school, the man had already been waiting for her. The rumour of a young mutant with the power of absorbing other mutant’s powers and knowledge was hard to ignore.
Reading Xavier’s write up, knowing from the use of language who had written such a personal piece, the man had hypothesized that Jean wasn’t the only Class 5 mutant in the X-Men, that Rogue had the potential as well, through her absorption. If she survived though. Survived being the key word.
Xavier however, hadn’t picked up on Mystique’s involvement in Rogue’s early life but he recognized the name of one Irene Adler and realized Xavier had known all along of the mutant known as Destiny and her valued diaries. No doubt how he’d come to make sure one was in his possession.
The last thing on the computer screen was of an old photograph, a woman with short brown hair with dark sunglasses and a young girl of about five who looked remarkably similar to Rogue.
Marie.
Xavier had put the pieces together over time about Rogue without anyone else’s knowledge, let alone her own and he wondered not for the first time what kind of man had Charles Xavier really been.
Exiting the program, he sat back, stared blankly ahead in the dim room, and realized he didn’t want to know anymore about a dead man’s secrets, good or bad.
His concern lay in the future.
More to the point, in the present.
Prophecies didn’t mean anything to him. He’d make his own damn way just like he always did and he’d figure out how to make sure things didn’t slip through his hands again.
Determination was the one thing he never really failed at where Rogue was concerned.
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