In the brightest hour of my darkest day
I realized what is wrong with me
Can’t get over you, can’t get through to you
It’s been helter-skelter romance from the start
Take these memories that Haunting me
Of a paper man cut into shreds by his own pair of scissors
He’ll never forgive her…he’ll never forgive her
Before I had the chance to take back what I’d said, he shut the door, locked it, and pushed me onto the bed while effectively pinning my arms above my head. I tried to move but he was straddling my knees to keep me from kicking him off, or bringing my knee to his groin. I have that nasty little habit.
Logan is staring hard at me, like he’s can’t believe I’m doing this now, but I don’t care. This was coming sooner or later, whether he could tell it was coming or not, because let’s be honest, that’s what’s bothering him, he couldn’t tell this was coming.
“Get off meh,” I growl quietly, enough for my chest to rumble under his massive frame. I won’t look away from his scrutinizing eyes, I know he’s trying to figure out what the hell is going on with me but I won’t give him that, I’m too stubborn.
“Marie,” he growls. “Kid, look at me.” I shake my head furiously and continue to clench my eyes shut but he won’t give up.
“I know the world doesn’t fucking revolve around me,” he pants, like he’s been running a marathon and I know he’s struggling with the Wolverine and his emotions. “And I sure as hell don’t expect you to be there every time I think I need you ,” he continues gently. I open my eyes and notice the anger quickly disappearing and a brief emotion crosses his face but I’m too distracted to catch what it is.
His words brought on a whole new pain to my heart. Need me? Logan had needed me and I wasn’t there? I was somewhere else being selfish, miserable, and bring about the doom of the world and he needed me? What the hell had I done?
“But I didn’t need you, you needed me, kid. I know that bullshit of a cure was you’re only fucking chance and it didn’t work. I’m sorry, Marie. I should have been there when you needed me, not the other way around.”
Logan rolled down next to me, his breath still uneven as he laid there next to me. I knew he was waiting for me to say something, to tell him what had gone wrong.
“Look,” I began, taking in a deep breath and keeping my voice even. “This ain’t an’ excuse but Ah was tired from mah trip, Ah haven’t slept in days, an’ Ah don’t wanna talk ‘bout this. Ah take it back, alright.”
But before I can continue with my petty excuses and avoiding his questions, he’s up and gone from my room leaving the door wide open in his wake.
I don’t move for a long time. I just laid there thinking about all the shit I’d done; reruns too fast for me to catch on, but enough to have me choking on my own tears. I was well aware that bring shit up like this was gonna drive him away from me and God knows I need Logan to keep me sane, to keep her from driving me insane.
Couldn’t anyone see that the guilt was killing me? That I’d been hurting for too long?
Didn’t anyone know that I’d come back seeking redemption for my killings?
Couldn’t they tell that I wasn’t the same girl they all knew?
Didn’t they know I was a threat to the school?
Dinner
I don’t know how to go about things anymore. I’d come back with the intentions of speaking to Hank and to the Professor about helping me but I was afraid they’d turn me away if they found out what I’d done. I was afraid that they’d finally realize I was no better than Mystique or Magneto that as a matter of fact I was a killer.
I’m not hungry or sleepy, I have absolutely no intentions of getting reacquainted with old friends or meeting the new faculty but Scott insisted that I needed to eat something, that maybe I could also meet the child he’d been telling me about so like the good Southern bell that I am I agree.
I’m sitting in the far corner of the cafeteria with Scott, a few tables away from Ororo and a statuesque blonde who keeps flicking me smiles from across the room. If I didn’t know better I’d say she was coming on to me, happened a lot after I took in Logan’s mutation.
I keep looking around the room, hoping to see Logan but I can’t place him anywhere. It’s like he’s purposely avoiding me but the Wolverine doesn’t do avoiding, I should know better. Instead I absentmindedly push around the food in my plate and try to listen to Scott who’s trying to make small talk for Hank’s sake. A few minutes later, Logan comes in carrying a thick stake and a bottle of Molson as he takes a seat with Ororo and the blonde like he has no care in the world.
“So how was that vacation, Rogue,” Scott finally asks. With a wide but perverse smile I turn to look at him, the answer right on the tip of my tongue.
“Ya know suga’,” I tell him, “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” I raise a brow.
“Not if you weren’t in Vegas,” he grins right back at me as he leans in with interest. I give a hearty laugh and shake my head.
“Not gonna happen, Scooter. How ‘bout ya tell meh bout that kid ‘stead.” He laughs and turns his attention to a grinning Hank, whose eyes keep flicking between the both of us, like he’s trying to figure something out.
“When did your mutation first develop?” he asks more seriously as he wipes the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
Frowning I respond, “When Ah was sixteen, a couple o’ months ‘fore Ah met Logan,” I tell him. “Why?”
“You are the first mutant I’ve meet whose mutation is defensive rather than offensive,” he waves in my direction as he takes a sip of his ice-cold water.
I shake my head as if to correct him, “Most folks don’t see it like that, mutants er’ not,” I point out. “If Ah come in contact with a human Ah can take their life force and their memories, sometimes even their abilities an’ if Ah touch a mutant Ah can take their memories, their mutation, anythin’ Ah want. How the hell is it defensive,” I look at him defiantly.
Surely I have nothing against the snuggly blue fur ball but what the hell does he know. If he knew how I’d used it to kill another mutant he wouldn’t be saying it was defensive. Hell, probably at some point it would get as bad as Jeannie’s, except I wouldn’t go about destroying the world, I’d go about killing the people closest to me. When I look up Scott is intently looking at me through his glasses, his jaw is set and his brows are pulled into a frown, like he’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking or better yet like he can tell what I’m thinking.
“I don’t assume to know your mutation better than you, Rogue, but I’ve been studying one very similar to yours,” he calmly explains. “I was just wondering if I could take a closer look at how it works. Maybe learn what trigger’s it.”
“Doesn’t werk like that,” I tell him quietly. My eyes linger on the Wolverine behind him and I shake my head again at Hank’s proposal. I’m more than sure that he can hear us despite all the laughing and screaming the kids are making.
“She’s only ever touched two mutants,” Scott tells Hank but I don’t correct him. He’d kick me out himself if he knew my dirty little secret. “Logan and Magneto,” he looks at me. I nod my head and push my white streaks behind my ears and I turn to look at Hank. He hasn’t stopped looking at me.
“What,” I ask rather annoyed than curious, he smiles warmly and turns his eyes to the child besides us.
“See the child sitting alone in that table,” he murmurs quietly. I lean forward into the table and try to look inconspicuously around Scott’s bulky frame as I try to get a better look at the young child whose sitting alone.
“He’s the one I was telling you about, Rogue,” Scott adds with a sip iced tea.
“His mutation work through physical contact just like yours,” Hank explains. “Except the child’s mutation isn’t offensive or defensive, it simply is. At this point, his mutation is telepathic and works only through touch but the Professor and I have arrived to the conclusion that just like your mutation, his will develop too.”
“Wait what,” I ask as I turn to look at Hank and casting Scott a questioning look. No one had bothered to tell me that my mutation was going to evolve.
“You see Rogue,” Hanks says. “The child can’t touch at all, just like you. Right now all his mutation does is transfer thoughts through contact but the Professor and I strongly believe that by the time the child is your age his mutation will have developed similar characteristics,” he finishes although he doesn’t elaborate. I know exactly what he means.
I twist in my chair to look at the child again. He has dark brown hair neatly kept and well groomed, black curious eyes, and he’s wearing gloves as thick as mine. I can’t help the prang of pain that settles in my chest at the realization that just like me that child is going to suffer for the rest of his life and he still has a long way to go. I turn to look back at Hank and Scott realizing that this is exactly why they were looking for me. And for the first time in a long time I forget about San Francisco and the woman I killed there.
“Y’er hoping that if ya can help one of us, then ya can help the other,” I ask.
Without waiting for an answer or thinking twice about what I’m about to do, I gather my tray and go sit with the lonely boy at the other table.
“Hi,” I tell the child as I take a seat across from him. He hasn’t eaten either; he’s been pushing his food around the plate just like I had moments ago, except he’s too focused to even bother to look up at me.
“Hi,” he sighs without looking up to meet my questioning eyes. I look about the room ignoring the questioning eyes of the students and the rest of the faculty; Scott and Hank have joined the faculty table, trying to give us some privacy.
“Mah name’s Rogue,” I tell him as I take a long sip of my cranberry juice hoping that will catch his attention. “But ya can call meh, Marie,” I tell him. He turns to look at me, a slight frown darkening his childish features as he sets his jaw just like Scott a few moments ago, he crosses him arms across his chest as he eyes me questioningly.
“You’re the girl who took the cure,” he states as he sits up straight, his eyes wide with curiosity.
“Yeah, Ah am. Ah assume ya know what mah mutation does,” I lift a brow, doing my best impersonation of Logan.
“You steal people’s mutations,” he states as-a-matter-of-factly. I shake my head and lean across the table, smiling. His assertions don’t bother me, after all, that’s what the child’s heard I can hardly blame him but I can change his opinion.
“Nah,” I tell him casually. “It werks like y’ers,” I take his gloved little hand in mine and look at it turning it around in my hand as if trying to find some answer there before I continue to speak, meanwhile he’s trying to pry free out of my grip.
“Ah ain’t gonna hurt ya kid,” at the sound of my words that has me casting Logan a long glance from where I’m now sitting. He must’ve heard me because he’s intently looking up from his plate and looking at me and the kid, his head cocked to the side listening.
“What’s yer name,” I ask the young boy as I release his hand, returning my full attention back to him.
“Adam,” he tells me as he resumes pushing his food around his plate. “But the kids here call me Vampire,” he looks up at me, his face and ears flushing red. I burst out laughing and shake my head. He can’t help but continue to stare at me with wide eyes, like I’ve just done something that’s gonna get the both of us in trouble. When I realize most of the conversations around us have died down, I take a quick look around us and realize we’ve captured several of the students and teacher’s attention.
“Kids here ain’t that ‘riginal,” I tell him. “What do ya think they called meh when Ah first got here?” He shrugs his shoulders. I lean back in my seat disappointed, shaking my head again. And here I thought I was a legend again.
“Parasite, Vampire, Death, Leech but then another kid came and took the name so they stopped callin’ me that. Bet that’s where they’re getting’ those silly name to call ya,” I tell him apologetically. “Sorry,” I tell him. The kid grins.
“So now it’s Rogue?”
“Yeah, for them,” I tell him as I look around the room again. “Except you an’ Logan get to call meh Marie,” I smile.
“Why only me and Mr. Logan,” he asks with interest as he eyes the apple on my tray. I take it and place on his tray hoping he’ll eat it, he smiles and takes it in both hands as he leans in to take a full bite. Leave it to kids to be kids.
“Logan brought meh here. First mutant Ah ever met and he isn’t ‘fraid to touch meh. An’ you,” I tell him. “Cause we’re alike.” He nods his head and continues to eat the apple.
“So,” I tell him tiredly, “Ya got any friends ‘round here,” I change the subject. “Ah could help you with yer work an’ stuff,” I offer. Then I add, “Ah ain’t ‘fraid to touch ya, by what Ah hear y’ers ain’t that bad.”
“Sure Ms. Rogue, I mean Ms. Marie…Ms.”
“Just Marie, booger. Ah ain’t old enough to be yer momma. Ah think Ah can pass off as yer sister, the least,” I grin at him and he laughs.
“So what can your mutation do,” he whispers across the table, lifting himself up on his elbows. I lean over the table pointing to his food.
“Ya eat an’ Ah’ll tell ya, deal,” I lift a brow. He nods his head and dives his spoon into the macaroni and cheese.
“Ah can absorb thoughts, a person’s life force, their mutation and use it as mah own. Sometimes Ah have a better understan’ of it than they do,” I confess to the young boy in a whisper. His little mouth has turned into a little “o” and he’s once again diving his spoon into his lunch and stuffing his mouth.
“And can you touch people,” he asks with a mouthful. I use my knife and fork to cut the stake and take a small bite, nodding my head. Once I’ve swallowed I answer him.
“No. If Ah hold on fer too long Ah can kill’em,” I look away and back to my plate. My thoughts drift back to San Francisco and the Gold Gate Bridge. I haven’t even realized that Adam is speaking to me until he’s waving his gloved little hand in front my face.
“Marie,” he asks alarmed causing several of the students to turn our way again. I shake my head hopping to push those thoughts away.
“Ah’m ok, Ah was just, uh tired. Is all,” I tell him as I take another small bite of the steak. “What ‘bout you,” I ask.
“The Professor and Dr. Hank think my mutation could be like yours,” he whispers again. “They’re doing some tests on me to see if they can help me,” he says as he picks up his fork and continues with his lunch. “I wonder if I can touch you,” he whispers.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
So here is Chapter 4. Blame final exams for taking my time. Enjoy.
Chapter End Notes:
All Reviews Welcomed :)