Who does he think he is? How dare he come back after three years, and treat me like Ah’m some little girl who jumps when he says jump?
Fuck. Him.
She quickly took a shower, scrubbing herself dry and tearing the brush through her wet hair. To think she was so happy to see him. She thought it was her imagination when she spotted him in the Control Room, old emotions rushing up and grabbing her by the throat when she realized it was really, truly him. Tears had blinded her, made her lose concentration. And she was hard pressed not to burst out laughing when she saw Logan tear into the Danger Room, claws out, unaware of her acquired invincibility. It took all she had not to hug him right there and then. She should have known his lightning quick reflexes would be used against her when she approached him from behind. That was her fault, absolutely. But she didn’t expect him to be so angry. Instead of being amazed by her new abilities, he was mad. And it hurt.
Asshole.
She was the one who had the right to be upset. Wasn’t he the one who always left without explanation? First when they had thought Jean drowned, and again when the Phoenix was destroyed? Wasn’t he the one who left after finding Scott alive at Alkali Lake? Wasn’t he the one who left again after they discovered Professor Xavier still alive, in the body of the professor’s brain dead twin brother in Scotland? Logan was always leaving, with no warning, sometimes with no goodbye. Except this time it was for over three years.
Three years.
No phone calls, no post cards, no nothing. Three birthdays, one high school graduation and one near death experience. All without him. And he expects her to be answerable to him?
Fuck. Him.
Rogue took a deep breath and willed her tears away, refusing to shed them. Why did she always allow him to do this to her? She wasn’t the same little girl with the huge crush on the big, strong Wolverine. She was a competent, strong woman. He wasn’t her guardian, he was her friend. A shitty one.
She stomped out of her room, grabbing her tote bag on the way out.
Logan inhaled deeply from his cigar, releasing the smoke slowly, lost in thought as he tried to come to terms with what Scott and Ororo had told him.
Marie had needed him – badly – and he wasn’t there for her. He reacted – badly - when they told him that her life was in danger just six months prior. Their explanation that they couldn’t find him tore at him. Six months ago, he was in Madripoor, discovering a wife he couldn’t remember, and getting a divorce after he found out that he was tricked into the marriage, having a hell of a time to do it. Meanwhile, Marie had been in danger. And he wasn’t here, protecting her. Like he promised.
Scowling, he stubbed his cigar out on the stone bench he was sitting on. He clenched his hands into fists, his claws at the surface, itching to come out. He wanted to tear at something, anything.
Logan was angry. Very, very angry.
Angry that he wasn’t there for Rogue. Angry that he was an asshole to her this morning. Angry that he was angry.
Fuck.
Standing up abruptly, he put what was left of his cigar into the top pocket of his flannel shirt, and made his way back across the school’s grounds. He needed to speak to the professor, to find out where he fit now at the school.
And then he’d talk to Marie.
“Miss Rogue?”
“Yes Amy?”
“I’m sorry.” Rogue looked up from where she was sitting with the other children, inside the playground sandbox.
She bit back a gasp, and calmly waited for the blue flames that were dancing along the edge of the playground to fade away, relieved that the other children didn’t notice. With a gentle smile, Rogue took hold of Amy’s hand and led her away from the small group, sitting down on the bench just beyond the playground.
“Amy, those blue flames were beautiful.” She held the little girl’s hand in between her gloved ones. Amy nodded her head up and down, although her big brown eyes were full of tears.
“But you’re not happy Miss Rogue, are you?”
Rogue glided one hand along the young girl’s soft blonde hair gently. “No, Ah’m not Amy.”
Amy looked down and began to fidget with the pink frills on her corded skirt with her free hand. “But my fire is so pretty.”
“Yes. It is pretty. It’s also dangerous."
Amy burst into tears and buried her face in Rogue’s lap. Rogue picked the little girl up in her arms, and gently rocked the child back and forth on her lap, making hushing sounds, and lightly rubbing her back.
“It’s scary, isn’t it Amy? Knowing you can hurt things, that you can hurt people with your pretty fire?”
The little girl nodded, her sobs subsiding. “But I’m getting better at controlling it, aren’t I, Miss Rogue?”
Rogue took the little girl’s tear streaked face into her hands and looked into her eyes. “Yes, you are baby girl. But no more playing with your pretty fire without telling me first, okay? Ah want you safe.”
Amy looked up. “I promise Miss Rogue.”
Rogue’s smiled. “Good girl. Now go on and have some fun! Afternoon break is almost over.” She watched the young girl return to her fellow classmates, disquieted. What was the professor thinking, having her watch over this special group of children?
These four children, between the ages of three to five, were unique amongst the students and not just because of their extreme youth. Usually mutations manifested themselves during puberty; or during a traumatic experience during pre adolescence. But these children were born with their mutations already active. Andrew and Christy were abandoned at birth, and Julian was hidden by his frightened family until the professor was able to convince them to release the boy into his care.
And then there was Amy. Whose family died in a strange blue fire that she miraculously survived as an infant.
Rogue blinked away tears, thinking of all the poor mutant children who had suffered and died at the hands of their terrified families. Professor Xavier actively searched them out with Cerebro, but he couldn’t save them all. They had only managed to rescue these precious four. More often than not, Cerebro would detect a new mutant energy only for it to disappear as quickly as it appeared, a young life extinguished. A new horror in an ever growing intolerant human society.
~ Rogue? ~
She wiped away the tear that managed to escape her eye, and stepped towards the children. Sorry Professor, Ah was just lost in thought.
~ It’s alright Rogue, I understand. I would like to speak with you when you are free to do so. ~
She looked up in the direction of Professor Xavier’s office concerned. Is something wrong?
~ No, not at all. Enjoy your afternoon. ~
Rogue gathered up the children from the playground and led them back to the preschool room, not noticing Scott watching her from behind the library glass window.
“Come in Rogue.”
Rogue mouth twisted wryly, her fisted hand about to knock on the professor’s office door. She would never get used to telepaths. Opening the door, she stepped into the mahogany paneled room and smiled brightly at the man behind the desk. “Yes sir?”
Professor Xavier easily returned her smile, his affection for her evident on his face. “How was it today with our young charges?” he asked her.
Rogue settled into the chair he motioned for her to sit in. “Very good, actually,” she told him. “Amy is gaining strength in her fire abilities, she surrounded the playground with her flames in a perfect circumference today. She is growing leaps and bounds in terms of her control. Andrew and Julian’s mutations remain stagnant for now, and little Christy is exhibiting nothing outside of her physical mutation. They seem to enjoy the hour each day that I spend with them.” Her smile became even brighter. “So do I.”
“Excellent. Excellent.” He pressed his fingers together, got up, and came around his desk to stand in front of her. “And you, Rogue. How are you?”
Rogue looked up at him, puzzled. “Ah’m just fine, professor.”
He reached for one of her gloved hands and regarded it pensively. “How are your own control attempts?” he asked her softly.
Her smile became brittle and a shadow came down across her face. “You know the answer to that.” Feeling closed in, she pulled her hand away and walked away from him towards the nearest window. Looking outside, she spotted a group of teenagers playing basketball. Rogue watched them for a few moments as they jostled good naturedly, smashing into each other in their quest to gain control of the ball.
Charles Xavier watched as various emotions played over her face. Sadness. Anger.
Envy.
“I have access to Carol’s mutation, absolutely,” Rogue began slowly. “I can have her strength, invincibility, and her ability to fly whenever I want. “ She looked away from the teenagers and caught her breath when her gaze fell upon Logan, watching her from the garden below. Stepping back from the window as though burned, she looked at the professor. Taking a deep breath, she told him, “And Ah think Ah have the Wolverine’s mutation as well.”
The professor looked sharply at her. “What do you mean?”
She blinked rapidly, not sure how to explain. “For the past few weeks my sense of smell has been getting keener, my eyesight clearer. Ah can hear conversations being held in other rooms, and Ah don’t think Ah can bruise anymore.” She broke off, and then added quietly, “Ah can’t turn it off. It’s constant, just like my skin.”
Charles Xavier’s brow furrowed in concern. “How have you been coping with this new development?”
Rogue sat back down in the chair she had vacated earlier and sighed before answering, “It’s been hard not having my Inner Logan to talk to, losing him was a kind of death. He’d been a part of me for almost five years. I’m grateful that his nightmares are gone, but I miss him.” She remembered the sense of grief she felt when he disappeared willingly inside the box the professor placed in her mind for him. He had been the last to go. She shook her head to clear it, and looked back at the sympathetic man in front of her. “But you know professor, it reminds me of Dumbo.”
The professor’s brow lifted in surprise. He didn’t see that coming. Rogue laughed lightly at the expression on his face, and explained. “When the crows gave Dumbo that feather, it gave him the courage and confidence to fly. The Wolverine in my head was my feather. When he left, Ah was afraid at first, Ah felt lost without him.” She paused and looked at her mentor with a direct gaze. “But Ah am my own hero now.”
Professor Xavier looked at this twenty year old young woman with growing pride. To think they had almost lost her. He reached out for her hand.
“Good for you, Rogue.”
Marie blushed. Receiving praise from the professor was an accomplishment in itself. “Ah would prefer to come to terms with this new mutation myself, before it becomes common knowledge if you don’t mind sir.” She added ruefully, “There’s enough discomfort around me as it is.”
The professor nodded his head in understanding. “The Wolverine is on his way to speak with you,” he informed her. “I’ll leave it up to you to inform the X-Men when you are ready.”
Rogue turned to leave, her stomach twisting into knots. So much for being my own hero, she thought, picking up Logan’s scent as she stepped out into the hallway.
She met him halfway down the stairs, him being on the way up, her on the way down. They stood there for a few moments, sizing each other up. Logan spoke first.
“We need,” he began, “to talk,” she agreed.
She continued past him and he followed her, through the side hallway, and out across the grounds to her favorite stone bench. She crossed her jean clad legs and sat down, pulling her dark green cardigan closer together in an attempt to warm up against the cooling late afternoon air. Looking down at her, Logan noticed her sweater matched her eyes. When did Marie get such pretty eyes?
Rogue watched the man before her carefully. He looked exactly the same as he did the first time she laid eyes on him, five years ago in that rough bar up in Alberta, Canada. Ruffled dark hair jutting off in points that made no sense but did on him; mutton chops that framed a perfect, chiseled face. Gorgeous hazel eyes outlined by thick eyelashes, topped by eyebrows that swooped up and out. And a mouth that was comprised of wide full lips that were moving, forming words that she realized she should be listening to.
“….no right to speak to you the way I did. I was surprised. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight and I’m sorry kid. “ He was standing in front of her with hands dug deep into his front pockets, legs spread apart. He was looking down at her intently, head in his familiar tilt, waiting for her response.
“Ah see.” Moments passed. A confused look appeared on his face.
“You see what?”
She shrugged and folded her arms across her chest. “You’re sorry about this morning. Got it.”
He was trying hard not to get annoyed. “That’s it?”
She nodded, and glared at him, unable to prevent the emotions she experienced earlier in the day from crashing over her. “You know Logan, you might live forever and because of that, a few years might seem like a few minutes to you. But to the rest of us, a year is a year.” Her eyes flashed. “Or three.”
He could smell the anger coming off her. He was surprised at how much there was. “I had things to take care of, kid.”
She stood up abruptly, and said through gritted teeth, “Ah didn’t know if you were alive or dead.”
He stiffened. “No need to worry about me kid.”
She could hardly believe her ears. “Oh? The all powerful Wolverine can take care of himself so he doesn’t need to touch base with anyone, right?” Her voice was shaking.
He lifted his head in confusion, still maintaining eye contact with her. “But you knew I would come back. I always do." His lack of understanding tore at her. He really didn’t get it. She closed her eyes and turned away from him. Suddenly the sight of him was very painful.
“Marie?”
He reached out to grab her shoulder, turning her gently towards him. “I know I let ya down. You needed me a little while back and I wasn’t here. Tell me what you need to make this right, and I’ll do it.”
She kept her eyes closed, not trusting herself to look at him, not trusting herself to speak. He continued to stand in front of her, concerned.
Isn’t this what Ah want? She thought to herself, Isn’t him coming back enough?
With a tremendous effort, she choked down her hurt, her swirling emotions, and looked at him. With a forced smile she told him, “It’s alright, Logan. Let’s start over, okay?”
Bemused, he didn’t know how to respond. He took hold of her other shoulder and pulled her closer, keeping his topaz eyes on her emerald ones. He knew she was holding back, but he decided to let it go. For now.
“Okay kid.”
He pulled her completely into his arms, and felt her relax against him as her gloved hands rested on his chest. As always, she was careful to not let the bare skin of her face touch his neck. After a few minutes, he heard her whisper in a tear choked voice, “Ah missed you.”
They stood that way for a long time.