“Understood, Cyclops.” Captain America placed his hands on the war-room table, his face earnest as he looked into the holographic image of the red visored man in front of him. “Do you know why the professor wanted Rogue detained?”
Strain showed on the X-Men leader’s face. “No, we don’t. There was no indication that he had wanted her movements restricted before today. In fact, Rogue has left the school a couple of times this past week without any objection from him. We believe that whatever made him behave so erratically this morning is responsible for the coma he is in now. It’s the only explanation.”
“Will he be alright, Scott?”
Scott’s took a deep breath, the Avenger’s genuine concern motivating him to reply honestly. “I don’t know, Steve. Right now, there is no brain activity whatsoever. The tissue is healthy, and he’s able to breathe and eat but outside of that, he’s unresponsive.” He frowned, clearly upset.
“It’s like he’s been put on pause.”
Rogue sat on the large king sized bed, elbows on her knees, head bent down. She stared unseeing at the Brazilian cherry wood floors that covered the huge bedroom assigned to her in the Avenger Mansion, her mind swirling from the events of the day.
How could she have been so wrong about Charles Xavier? She thought he genuinely cared for her and yet, he had been willing to make her his prisoner, even to the point of attacking his own X-Men. And how the hell had she been able to knock him out? As soon as the professor went down under her psychic punch, everyone’s thoughts immediately disappeared and now, she was too afraid to try to read minds again. She didn’t want to try. What if she inadvertently woke him up? Professor Xavier had terrified her with his power and Rogue didn’t think she would get the best of him again if he tried to get her under his control again.
Rogue ignored the pang of guilt she felt, knowing she was the one who put him in a comatose state. No one suspected she was responsible and she wasn't going to say a word. It was Professor Xavier’s fault, he should have never tried to stop her and until she figured out what was going on, he could stay that way. Leaving was the right thing to do. She couldn’t stay in Westchester any longer – she was drowning, she was choking on a life that wasn’t hers anymore. She was exhausted and after last night, the decision to leave had been easy to make. It was bad enough feeling pressure to behave like a woman she couldn’t identify with, but accepting a love that didn’t belong to her was too much. She just couldn’t do it.
Rogue’s head shot up, eyes sharpening to focus on the figure that slipped soundlessly into the room. She could make out the silhouette of the Wolverine near the door of the bedroom and his hurt and anger came at her in waves, suffusing her in their intensity. She didn’t move, forcing her breathing to remain even and calm although her heart pounded painfully in her chest.
“Why?”
She closed her eyelids slowly to keep the tears that sprung behind them from escaping. Rogue couldn’t trust her ability to speak.
“Why?” he repeated more forcefully when she didn’t answer him, his voice a broken rasp. She turned away, unable to face him and in a flash, Logan crossed the room and pulled her off the bed, the mask of his uniform doing little to hide his torment. Logan wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly, burying his face into the hollow of her neck to breathe in her scent. She smelled so sweet, so warm. So his.
“Why did you leave me?”
The unsteadiness of his breathing underlined the pain he was in and Rogue bit back a sob –wanting so desperately to surrender to the familiar safety of his strong embrace, the need to comfort him overwhelming her. Logan could feel her body tremble, could smell the sharp salt of her tears and despite the rigidity of her spine he knew she wanted him. It was there in how her hands shook, in how her heart skipped. He slid his hands up her arms and held her face in his hands, the soft coolness of her skin tempering the heat of his.
“I’m sorry.” Logan looked deep into her eyes, telling her gruffly, “I’m sorry for not telling you the truth about us, for holding back information about your past. Tell me what you want and I swear I’ll do it for you, darlin’. Just…” He stopped and swallowed hard. “Come back to me.”
Rogue found it hard to breathe. He was looking at her with so much love, his entire body thrummed with it, but it was a love she knew didn’t belong to her. When the Wolverine looked at her; when he kissed her and touched her, he saw his Marie. And she was Rogue. Rogue. The lump in her throat blocked the words that her heart demanded she say and she looked away, anguished.
“You can’t do that.” He gripped her shoulders with his hands. “What you’re feelin’, it’s all there in your scent. You can’t hide it. Not from me.” Rogue pulled back but he held on, easily holding her in place. “I’m done with this shit, Rogue.” Logan lifted her chin with a folded finger, forcing her to look into his eyes again. “Talk to me.”
Anxiety raced through her and she forced herself to breathe, struggling to find her voice. When she did, it was full of her misery. “I can’t take this anymore. It’s too hard.” She tried to look away but he held her chin in place, his mask making his hazel eyes even more bright. The tears she had been trying to hold back finally escaped her eyes and she weakened against him, defeated.
“I can’t do it, Wolverine. I can’t pretend.”
“Pretend?”
“I’m not who you think I am,” she told him quietly. “I’m not the woman you love.”
He gently wiped her tears away with his thumbs, his eyes darting between hers. “You are the woman I love. I’m in love with you, darlin’.”
She whimpered, the pain shooting through her making it hard to breathe again. “You’re in love with Marie. You’re in love with a woman I can’t remember being.”
“Everything that made me fall in love with you is still there, with or without your memories. You’re still my Marie.” His voice was rough with conviction.
She pulled his hands away and stepped back, his words completely breaking her heart. Rogue briefly closed her eyes before capturing his, her voice sounding like it was coming from far away, a strange calmness settling over her.
“No, I’m not. I’m Rogue. Your Marie is gone. She doesn’t exist anymore.”
Logan’s face reflected his confusion. “You’re not making any sense.”
Rogue could only look at him, wishing he could understand, but knowing he wouldn’t. Logan tried to not show his frustration, but failed. “You can’t expect me to throw away the past fifteen years like they never happened.”
She swallowed hard, wiping away the last of her tears with the back of her hands, breathing out slowly to work past the ache. “I don’t expect you to. But it’s what I need.”
Logan rubbed the back of his neck and stared at her in disbelief. “Why are you doin’ this? Why aren’t my memories of us enough for you?”
She held her hair away from her face, suddenly feeling very tired. “I feel like an imposter. Your memories of loving Marie, kissing her, touching her…” Rogue stopped, wincing from the images that formed unbidden in her mind and a few moments passed before she was able to continue. “It’s like watching you with another woman. I need you to belong to me, not to her. I need you to see me.”
His heart soared, taking her words as an admission that she cared for him and he took her back into his arms, his hands pressing into her back when she resisted. “But I do see you. I do belong to you. ” She turned her face away and Logan became angry, not understanding why she was so sad.
“Why are you makin’ this more complicated than it needs to be? Goddamn it, I love you!” His hold on her became punishing and fisted his hands into her hair, forcing her to look at him. “What you need, is to be with me.”
Logan crushed his mouth against hers, thrusting his tongue along her teeth, demanding she give access and biting her lips when she refused. Rogue kept her teeth clenched and his claws rang out, causing her to gasp in surprise. He took advantage, delving his tongue deep into her mouth to take it possessively and he moaned, the taste of her sweeter than ever. The animal in him demanded the submission of its mate, and it roared in anger when she didn’t respond and began to fight him.
The Wolverine slashed at her clothes, the silk slip she had been wearing falling in tatters to floor, her bra and underwear easily eviscerated. He threw her back onto the bed, forcefully placing himself between her resisting legs, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her. The sounds from their physical struggle hovered over them, the unbalanced fight lending itself to her frustrated cries and she struggled under him, pitching her hips upwards to throw him off her but only succeeding in burrowing him more intimately against her.
The Wolverine was stronger, larger, angrier. He unzipped the black leather pants of his uniform and pulled himself free and she could feel him hard and big against her inner thigh. He growled in warning when she tried to close her legs, biting into her neck in punishment and drawing blood. But when Rogue tensed under him, bracing for his invasion of her, he stilled.
The sound of their harsh breathing competed with the erratic beating of their hearts. Logan buried his face between her breasts, his entire body trembling with restraint and Rogue was stunned to smell his tears, her breath catching when she felt them drop like hot beads of wax onto her skin. Crying, she bent her head to kiss the top of his, running her hands over top his back when he released her wrists to dig his arms under her to hold her close. After a few minutes of holding each other tightly, Rogue lifted his head and kissed the last of his tears away from his eyelashes, hating herself for causing him so much pain.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Wolverine.”
Logan let her go and sat at the edge of the bed, dropping his head into his hands. Confused at his abrupt movement, Rogue sat behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her body against his broad back and resting her cheek on his shoulder. The leather of his uniform stuck to her, the smell of it made stronger from the heat he was giving off and she sighed, enjoying the sensation of him being in her arms.
It was short lived when Logan pulled away and stood up. “It’s Logan,” she heard him say softly, not turning around to look at her. “My name is Logan.”
Rogue’s mouth went dry, knowing he was waiting – hoping – she would say his name. The silence that grew became oppressive. His shoulders straightened and his powerful body rippled from the flexing of its enormous muscles as though they were being infused with resolve. Logan adjusted his pants and when he put his face in profile to look at her, she knew he was angry again.
“I love you, Rogue. If you need time to accept it, then I’ll give it to you but don’t try to run away from me again.” His voice was low and flinted with warning. “There is nowhere you can go that I won’t find you.”
He left and Rogue wrapped the sheets around her naked body, inhaling the lingering scent of him. She stared at the bedroom door until it blurred, soundless sobs deafening her as she whispered a name the felt foreign and strange on her tongue.
“Logan.”