The scent of Logan was all around her, on the bed sheets, in her hair and she grabbed the bed sheets to her, inhaling him. Looking around her, she knew she was alone and she was relieved, despite the comfort his smell gave her.
She wasn’t ready.
She forced herself to take a shower, forced herself to brush her teeth and pull a comb through her hair and get dressed. She could hear everyone milling about the mansion, enjoying the day but her name seemed to be on everyone’s lips, so she shut them out, retreating back into herself. She wiped the steam away from the mirror, staring at her reflection, the old pain glittering in her eyes. With a grimace, she turned away, choking it back down.
She wasn’t ready.
When she came out of the bathroom, she saw a plate of food placed at the foot of her bed. Hungry, she tore into the food, registering Logan’s scent once more, grateful for his thoughtfulness and continued understanding that she needed to be alone.
The sun was shining brightly, not a cloud in the bright blue winter sky. She opened her window, the cold slap of winter air striking her. Oblivious, she climbed onto the sill, holding onto the wooden trim and looked down towards the ground below her. She took a deep breath, her mind emptying, and a strange calmness settled over her.
She jumped.
Rogue flew into the sky, higher and higher, no wind hindering her ascent as she reached and then broke through the stratosphere. Ice crystals formed on her fingertips, on her eyelashes, and in her hair, her body turning numb. She blinked, ice flakes breaking free from the small movement, and she floated suspended for a moment before she began to freefall. Air rushed past her as she fell backwards, gathering speed in her descent, feeling detached from the sight of stars becoming smaller and smaller, disappearing altogether as she re-entered the atmosphere. She kept her eyes heavenward, aware of the ground rushing up to greet her.
Rogue switched off Carol’s mutation.
Images of the students, her friends, Logan – others - burst into her mind. Vivid memories crashed over her, the laughter, the love, and she slammed to a halt, inches from the snow covered roadway that ran past the mansion. Her oxygen-deprived lungs painfully ripped open as she forced in air, her body shuddering from its efforts to recover. She curled into a ball and crossed her arms over her head, digging her fingers into her scalp, overwhelmed by her misery. Shoulders hunched tightly above her low hanging head, Rogue finally began to cry.
Tools clattered onto the garage floor, broken and crushed from the pressure of Logan’s clenched fists. The terrible realization that he couldn’t get to her in time as she hurtled back to earth had paralyzed him, the surge of blood still pumping fiercely through his veins as his tortured eyes took in her huddled, sobbing frame gliding back to her open window.
Rogue was sitting in Professor Xavier’s office, idly flipping through pages of a book left on a side table.
Tennyson, Rogue noted drily before dropping it back onto the surface she found it on. Figures.
She was getting impatient. She wanted to get on with her day, and was anxious to see the children, sure that they were missing her. Two days had passed since she holed herself into her room and she was ready to move on.
~ The children are fine, Rogue ~
She straightened up from her slouch as he walked into the room. “Ah’m sure they are, but Ah miss them too.”
“Yes, I know,” he replied. Instead of sitting in the chair behind his desk, the professor sat in the chair beside her, his kind eyes searching hers.
“Your father is still here Rogue, hoping to speak with you.”
Her eyes turned cold. “My father ceased to exist to me a long time ago, sir.”
“I see.” The professor looked intently at her. She stared back.
“Do you not want to hear what he has to say?”
“No.” Her response was instantly given. She was trying to not show her annoyance, out of respect for him, but was failing.
“It was you that compelled him to come here, Rogue. You called out to him late Christmas Eve.”
She stopped fidgeting. He waited as confusion gave way to realization in her green eyes.
Rogue jumped up, flustered. “Ah didn’t mean to, it was just a reaction to some memory that Ah had! Ah know why he threw me away, it was quite clear. Ah let you in my mind so you could see for yourself the monster he is, and the witch that he married. Why are you keeping him here?”
Professor Xavier took her gloved hands into his. “There are things that you…”
She pulled her hands away. “No! Don’t you dare try and convince me to listen to a word he wants to say, Professor. Ah don’t think our relationship would ever be the same if you do. Ah don’t know how Ah contacted my…” she caught herself, wincing, before standing to her full height, her face hardening, “That man, but Ah don’t want him here. Ah don’t want to see him.”
If the professor was offended at her tone with him, he didn’t show it. His gaze remained steady, his composure unruffled by her show of temper.
Rogue sat back down, rubbing her hands over her tired face and running her fingers through her hair before speaking again. “Ah have moved on with my life, became who Ah am, no thanks to that person. Ah closed that chapter of my life a long time ago. Ah don’t want to hear what he has to say.” She looked at the professor, her voice catching.
“Please understand, professor. Ah have adopted a lot of your values, but leave me be on this. Ah know you are in the business of second chances, but Ah’m not. Ah don’t want to see him.”
They sat there, teacher and former student, regarding each other. Charles Xavier nodded. “I will respect your wishes, Rogue.” He made sure to not show his disappointment with her decision.
Nodding, she stood up and left.
Rogue was in the Danger Room when the mysterious stranger left the mansion.
The black limousine pulled away slowly, weaving through the driveway and past the iron gates into the New York state countryside. Professor Xavier watched the vehicle leave, conflicted.
“Maybe,” Owen D’Ancanto had told the professor when he shook his hand goodbye, “This is for the best.” His hand trembled on the cane he used for support. “Ah only want my Anna Marie to be happy.”
The professor turned away from the window with a heavy heart.
So did he.
Gambit watched Rogue with brooding eyes as she skated with the young children. He sat at the edge of the frozen fountain, and asked, “How long do you intend to punish Remy, cher?”
She ignored him, encouraging the smallest of her charges. “That’s it Christie honey, one foot in front of the other. Wonderful!” She clapped her hands as the little girl managed to make her way across the frozen fountain.
“Is dere anyt’ing dis one can do, to make you forgive him?”
Sending Christie on her way, she turned to him, annoyed. “What part of ‘Ah need some space’ did you not understand, Gambit? Ah accepted your apology already.” She skated to Andrew who fell flat on his bum and was having a hard time standing up again. Remy walked halfway around the large fountain to where she was.
“But dis one misses you, Rogue.” His voice took on a deep timber and she looked at him, her anger disappearing. It was clear that he was unhappy. She left Andrew clinging to the centre of the fountain for balance, and skated over to the handsome Cajun.
Taking his hand in hers, she looked into his eyes and told him honestly, “Ah can’t be with you, Remy. Ah need to sort things through, figure out what Ah want.” The pain her words caused was palpable, and Rogue’s eyes softened. “Ah’m sorry that Ah’m hurting you, Remy. Ah don’t want to hurt you more.”
Even with her skates on, he towered over her. He reached for her, burying his face into the curve of her neck, protected by her scarf. “’Dis one can’t stand knowing he ruined what we had, petit.”
Rogue didn’t pull away, letting him hold her. “It’s not your fault, it’s mine,” she told him quietly, voice heavy with guilt. “You made me feel so beautiful, so desirable. Ah was selfish taking from you what Ah couldn’t give back.”
He looked up at her, his red eyes bright with emotion. “You are beautiful Rogue. And so very, very desirable.” He held her tighter. “Let dis one kiss you again. Let Remy show you.”
Again, she felt lost in his heated gaze. But when he began to pull at her scarf, she pulled away, sad. “Ah’m sorry,Remy.”
She skated away from him and returned to the children. They latched onto her coat, shrieking from fear as she pushed them across the ice again. The Cajun thief found it hard to breathe.
“But I love you,” he whispered, heartbroken.
Rogue heard him. She looked back, but he was already gone.