The sound of students playing basketball outside carried into the professor’s office through an opened window, the humidity of the air outside doing little to alleviate the staleness in the room. Annoyed, Logan got up from the chair he had been sitting in to slam it closed. For someone as rich as the professor, it always bothered him that he never invested in air conditioning for the one room he spent the most time in. Logan leaned on the sill and glared at nothing in particular, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He was still trying to sort through what he had just learned a few hours ago, the muscles of his back working against the tightness of his shirt. That the professor looked completely comfortable annoyed him further. What was it, mind control that made him able to stand the heat in here?
Unperturbed by Logan’s behavior, Professor Xavier’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Was there anything else she was able to learn about him?”
“Outside of him havin’ some kind of connection with Itsu?” Logan looked sharply at Charles, the memory of his murdered wife tightening the skin around his eyes. “No. Blindspot touched Emma before she could find out more. If Emma hadn’t managed to change into her diamond form, she would have lost more than just the memories of this guy’s name and face.”
“His psychic trap is quite powerful as well, apparently. Ms Frost was in a coma for a week after attempting again to read his mind after their visit.”
Logan frowned. “You don’t know the half of it, Chuck. If Shaw had his way, Emma would still be in that coma. That’s why she’s willin’ to help. Figures she owes you.”
Charles nodded. The Hellfire Club and its members were long time enemies of the X-Men. Asking for his assistance to save their White Queen must have been a very difficult decision, one that he knew their leader Sebastian Shaw disagreed with. “I trust Ms Frost told you about this mysterious mutant’s intentions?”
“Somethin’ about him buildin’ a team and wantin’ a telepath on board which is why he approached her. He told her about his hate-on for me thinkin’ it would motivate her to join. Good thing Emma and I got her sister Kayla’s death resolved between us a while ago.”
Logan’s face darkened.
“The scent he left behind on Emma is the same strange scent I found in Mystique’s old hideaway.” Although Emma admitted to Logan she had enjoyed fucking the unidentified mutant, she was sure that the man had used his pheromones to convince her to sleep with him. The distraction of her riding him allowed her to read his mind, and if it hadn’t been for Blindspot attacking her in a jealous rage, Emma could have gotten a lot more information.
Claws shot through Logan’s knuckles. That same particular scent had been all over Marie.
Charles’ eyebrows raised at the sight of the adamantium blades. “Thankfully Ms Frost turned down his invitation,” the professor said slowly, wondering what made Logan suddenly so angry. “This individual was clearly involved with Rogue’s abduction. I think we can assume that he had hoped to enlist Rogue as well.”
“He didn’t do his homework if he thought that was goin’ to happen.” Logan’s voice was barely more than a growl as he re-sheathed his claws, his berserker rage frothing at the edge of his control. His chest heaved from the effort it took to calm down, and he had to reach deep inside to do it.
“I agree.” The professor waited for a few moments before asking, “Do you know of any other feral outside of Sabretooth who would harbor such an intense hatred towards you?”
Logan shrugged, still agitated but able to think clearly. “There’s more than a few, Chuck. I’ve been around a long time and most of that time wasn’t spent makin’ friends. This new guy’s just another number on the ticker. Killin’ Victor with the Muramasa Blade probably served as a good enough warnin’ for him to have stayed clear of me. But he’s on my radar now.”
The reminder of the missing weapon hung ominously between them. Logan pushed off the edge of the sill, re-opening the window and flexing his arms to release the tension there. “Until the blade is found, I’m not going anywhere.” And when it’s found, I’m gonna hunt this bastard down with it for getting near my Marie.
Charles Xavier stood up as well. He knew he couldn’t hold Logan’s attention any longer. “I am glad you’re back, Logan.”
“Me too, Chuck.” He left the professor’s office and immediately picked up Rogue’s scent, not breaking his stride to make his way downstairs.
Logan found her in the school’s common room sitting off to the side, watching her former students Christie and Nicholas play foosball against each other. He stopped at the doorway, the sight of her making his heart pound hard in his chest.
She had her feet curled under her, the way she always did when she wanted to be comfortable, her hair worn long and loose in front of her. She tugged at her shapeless clothing, stretching the long sleeves of her shirt over her gloved hands, its neck pulled up to cover her mouth and nose. Despite the casual pose, he knew she was feeling anything but relaxed and a fierce need to caress the tenseness away from her body came over him.
Rogue had become aware of him as soon as he left the professor’s office, his scent preceding him to where she was. She was surprised at how her heart began to race, and how her ears unnecessarily strained to hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs, anticipation taking hold of her. Her breath shallowed when his powerful frame stopped by the doorway, and she fidgeted nervously with her clothing, unsure of how to greet him. So she kept her eyes on the two kids playing gitoni.
When he finally stepped into the room, Rogue couldn’t help but look at him and her stomach flipped over. The intense look on his handsome face didn’t frighten her, but it did make every nerve ending in her body snap to attention. Her eyes widened when he walked straight to her and held out his hand.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
Her mouth went dry. Rogue wanted to refuse, suddenly afraid to be alone with him, the timbre of his gruff voice adding to her already overloaded senses. Logan was well aware of her reaction to him, especially her fear and his jaw clenched, hating it.
“I don’t bite,” he told her softly.
Rogue placed her gloved hand in his but when the contact sent an electric thrill through her, she jerked her hand back, startled. She avoided his questioning look and quickly stood up on her own. Frowning, Logan reluctantly dropped his hand.
She followed him to the back of the school where he stopped by a bench underneath a maple tree, near the sports field. Logan watched for any sign that she would recognize the spot as their favorite, but she just sat down, looking around her. Looking at everything but him.
“Hey.”
At his gentle prodding, she looked up and focused on something just over his shoulder, curling her hair nervously behind her ears with shaking fingers. Logan’s heart twisted at the expression of uncertainty of her face, knowing he should have been prepared that she still wouldn’t be able recognize him, should have been prepared for the pain he would feel because of it. But he wasn’t prepared. The reality that the woman he loved saw him as nothing more than a stranger felt like a hard kick to his gut. Logan kept his hands fisted by his sides, aware that her fear of him was growing.
Rogue was afraid. She hadn’t seen him since the night she was brought to the X-Mansion and during that time managed to convince herself that the powerful emotions he had brought out in her were due to the discovery of her feral mutation. Having his mutation could explain the connection she was feeling towards him, but why was his nearness making every sense she had go into overdrive?
Logan’s frown deepened. Her growing anxiety was hitting at him relentlessly.
“You okay?”
Rogue finally looked at him, and found herself lost in his burning hazel eyes. Sure, Gambit was handsome, in a boyish, charming way and so was Cyclops, in the classical sense. But this Wolverine, he was male perfection. Heat flared inside her, her eyes taking in his tightly worn jeans and white t-shirt, the powerful muscles clearly defined under them. Rogue wanted to smear herself all over him and she heard him inhale sharply.
“Darlin’, you keep that up and I don’t think I can keep my hands off you.”
Rogue gasped. She jumped up to leave but he stepped in front of her. “Don’t go.” His voice was rough, unsteady. “Please.”
Rogue didn’t move, breathing in his scent, confused by how it both excited and soothed her. A wave of frustration, lust, and pain weaved in between them; indistinguishable as to whom it originated from.
“Marie.” The name sounded like a plea.
Rogue found herself falling against him, weakened by the sudden need to be held by him. He wrapped his arms around her and she sighed, tears pricking her eyelids. For the second time since losing her memories, she felt safe.
“Ah’m so scared,” she whispered against his chest. “Ah don’t know what’s real anymore.”
Logan closed his eyes and held her tight, the familiar press of her soft body against his overwhelming him, the animal in him snarling because its mate was unhappy. “I know, darlin’. But the memories you do have are yours. They’re real. Just a few are missin’. You’ll be okay.”
She looked up at him, her green eyes bright with tears she didn’t want to shed. “But it’s what’s missing that’s making me lose whatever’s left of my mind. There’s something about you.” She hesitated a moment before deciding to be brave.
“It’s setting me on fire."
She might as well have doused him in flames. A tremor erupted over him and the heat left in its wake threatened his already tremulous control. A thousand responses raced through Logan’s mind as he struggled to rein in the Wolverine, to not react to her whispered confession the way the feral in him demanded. Logan wanted to tell her that he loved her, that she loved him - that twelve days ago they made love to each other for hours on end - leaving no part of themselves untouched, unkissed, untasted by the other. He wanted to kiss her so she could see his memories, the professor’s concerns be damned.
Even though every fiber of his being rebelled against the possibility, the chance she would never get her memories back was very real. He could see how much she was suffering. His eyes poured over her beautiful face, conflicted.
Rogue watched him struggle with his thoughts, wishing she could read his mind. “Tell me. Whatever it is, Ah can handle it. Ah just need the truth.”
Logan looked deep into her eyes, his own darting between them, hoping to find something there that told him she knew instinctively that he belonged to her. But the crack in his heart split further when he saw nothing, just fear and confusion and desperation. Not being able to touch would make knowing about them a torture. It was a torture for him already.
It took almost everything he had to let her go, but he did. He dropped his arms and stepped away from her. “It’s our shared feral mutation, Rogue. It makes us react physically to each other. That’s what’s throwin’ you off about me.”
Rogue stared at him. He wasn’t lying, but something wasn’t right. She didn’t feel this way about Dr. Mc Coy and he was feral. “When Ah touched Gambit, Ah got his memories. In them Ah saw him looking at you, more jealous than a scrawny dog eyein’ a fat cat. And it was over me.”
She caught the sound of his heart quickening, the sudden rise in his body temperature as he dug his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He squinted at something in the distance but when he looked back at her, his eyes were shuttered. “Gambit was in love with you. You and I had a strong friendship before he showed up to join the X-Men and the swamp rat didn’t like it.”
“Oh.” Despite the hot weather, Rogue shivered. “Thank you then, for clearing it up for me.” Her disappointment surrounded them.
Logan instinctively reached out to push back the strand of white hair that had fallen across her face, saddened that she flinched when his fingers came close to her bare skin. The action confirmed to him that he had to be patient - he had to hold back - just until her memories were restored. Just until her love for him returned.
“No problem.” He crossed his arms across his chest, giving her a small smile. She tried to smile back but found she couldn’t. Not trusting her ability to speak, Rogue brushed past him, confused by the pain she was suddenly feeling.
“I’ll take care of you, Rogue.”
She stopped at his words and looked over her shoulder. The sun was setting behind him, giving him a slightly fiery glow, the sharp angular planes of his face softened by its dying light. The Wolverine wasn’t gorgeous, she realized. He was beautiful.
“Promise?”
Something flashed across his face, something raw and naked but as fast as it appeared, it was gone. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod before returning his hands back inside the front pockets of his jeans, looking away again.
Rogue continued walking back to the mansion. She calmly walked through the front entrance and hallway, up the stairs and into her room, ignoring the strange looks sent her way. Jubilee followed her, concerned by the stony expression on Rogue’s face. When she asked if something was wrong, Jubilee was given a big smile and was told everything was fine.
“Just another bad day, that’s all.” Then Rogue sat down on the bed and promptly dissolved into gut-wrenching sobs.
Jubilee hovered at the doorway, unsure of what to do. Rogue had never cried before, at least, not in front of anyone since she arrived. She hesitantly approached Rogue and sat beside her, carefully draping an arm around the crying woman’s shoulders, frustrated that Rogue’s missing memory of their treasured friendship prevented her from providing any real comfort.
After a few minutes, Rogue slowly dropped her head onto Jubilee’s shoulder, the small, trusting gesture releasing the breath the Jubilee hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Chin trembling, tears streamed down her cheeks as she stroked her best friend’s hair soothingly.
One floor below, Professor Xavier felt relief, knowing Rogue had finally allowed herself to cry.
Two floors below, Scott felt sympathy, watching Logan walk to the forest surrounding the school. He knew all too well how it felt to lose Rogue’s love.
Rogue woke up in the middle of the night, horrific agony slicing through her head, her vision distorted by golden bursts of light. The nightmare lingered in her mind, three identical women with clutched pieces of torn flesh in their bloodied hands, attacking the body they surrounded, hissing their names at it.
I am Anna.
I am Anina.
Ah am Marie.
“No,” the carcass had begged through its ripped face, defeated and dying on the ground. “Ah am Rogue.”
Rogue stumbled into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time before the contents of her stomach were emptied into it.
“Ah’m Rogue,” she whispered, gasping from the pain and holding onto the porcelain rim with trembling arms. “Ah’m Rogue, Ah’m Rogue, Ah’m Rogue.”
Ah am Rogue.
Charles Xavier cried out, grabbing at his head, a silent scream on his lips. Their connection severed as powerful shields erected in Rogue’s mind, her last thought ricocheting through his mind.
~ Ah am Rogue. ~
He sent out a distressed call and within moments, Logan burst into her room. Finding her, he rubbed her back, holding her hair away from her face when she continued to throw up, telling comfortingly her that yes, she was Rogue.
She was Rogue, she was Rogue, she was Rogue.