It was dawn when Wolverine spotted her descending from the misty skies. Rogue still looked as ethereal as she had left him, with her rain-drenched hair and magnificent skin out in the open. Had anyone seen her in such a state, he would have gladly severed them. He knew he wanted to do so many things to her, with her, for her, but all he could do now was look from the distance. Somehow, he had known that she would come back, because what happened a few hours ago wasn't goodbye.

It was a lesson.

Rogue not only wanted to show him, but herself as well, who she was now –or rather, who she wanted to be: a powerful woman who had a choice; she could live without him if she wanted to.

The incredible fierceness she exuded was simply beautiful to Wolverine. She was as perfect as can be.

And she's mine, Wolverine thought, ecstatic in anticipation for things to come.

The only problem right now was one person: Logan.

Rogue knew her little show for Logan had been all about self-empowerment and pride, but when she returned to her room after distracting herself in nature for hours, she was but a naked, filthy mess. The reality of the two of them so... bare last night, the words they uttered, the bittersweet contact –it made her want to fly all the way to Kitty's university, absorb her mutation and phase herself down to the earth's molten core.

Pre-molesting Logan, Rogue's attempt to sleep had been in vain, obviously. She just tossed and turned in bed, because just as she was about to enter dreamland, her mind went gaga. She didn't fall asleep, she felt somewhat drunk and dazed –that the next thing she knew, she was outside Logan's window, floating near a tree, watching his every move.

Simply said, the clawed-mutant looked like someone who danced boogie nonstop for torture's sake. He had been so busy the entire day she knew he had been doing it just to avoid her. But his efforts only made him look hotter, ripped, giving her an eyeful when he stripped off, and went in the shower. She listened to his every move, and after a few moments, she heard a loud pound against the wall. When she smelled his blood, that's when it hit her.

Logan had been arguing with himself, and she knew exactly why. It was understandable though, because even Rogue had a hard time trying to cross that line. What were they anyway: best friends, friends and then lovers? It made no sense as much as it made perfect sense. Still it hurt, to be the cause of his inner conflict, that she wished she didn't know him so well.

Alone. Rogue felt so forlorn. Because what the fuck was she doing there, stalking Logan? Even with all her new powers, she was still that pathetic girl who had a crush on him. She tried not to put more blame on herself when he pulled a bottle of alcohol and drank it like water. After fazing a bit, he fell on his bed naked, pulled on the covers, and slept like a log.

In all honesty, Rogue planned to turn away after that, content that he was finally resting. After a minute or two, however, Logan began to groan. Nightmare. Her natural instinct was to gather her in his arms, tell him everything was alright. There were times in the past few years that she slipped in his room in the middle of the night to comfort him, fearless despite the danger. Because Logan was used to her. She was Marie, his friend, wasn't she?

Trusting what remained of her friendship to Logan, Rogue pushed his unlocked window open and swooped inside. She pasted herself across the room, watching him struggle with his inner demons. He growled in agony. Pain twisted her heart. She felt lonesome again. Why was she here, in the same room, but felt so far away from him? Why couldn't she just tell him everything like she would before? She would tell him about Raven, Emma, Sabretooth… Rogue knew he would forgive her. They would always forgive each other –that went without saying.

To come clean that she did everything for him, though, was entirely a different matter. She took a life with him in mind, for her own, selfish fantasies. Why would he want to be with someone like her? Love wasn't always a good enough reason, Rogue knew.

Logan's rumbling became louder, but this time around, it was of a different reason. Indeed, she saw the blanket covering his groin begin to rise, that she briefly wondered if he was dreaming of her. Rogue hoped so. She would be better than his nightmares, right?

It must have been the effect of having no sleep at all, or it was probably just her, snapping the 'bad kind of way', as Emma put it, because she heard a strange, deep voice enter her head.

Do it.

Wake him up.

Wake him up with your body.

Let him see what a woman you are.

He needs you, you know.

Don't stop.

Do it.

Rogue did not hesitate, spellbound by the waves of lust wafting off of him because of his dreams. She tore her gloves off, then her top. She slid off her jeans. She wanted him, to feel his bare skin under her hands again. The memory of his touch drove her to the edge. You shouldn't have touched me, Logan, Rogue thought. Now I must punish you.

Punish him with pleasure, the voice insisted.

Rogue inched her way from his feet to his waist. A soft sigh escaped her lips when she pushed his insistent shaft down and sat on it, the hard length warm between her legs. It made her so wet. The heat clouded her vision, just as the desire burst from her belly. Oh God, to have him inside her.

Then it happened.

Rogue should have figured that his adamantium claws could still wound her invulnerability with the force of his strength. Then the chase happened, followed by the scene at the lake, ended by her dramatic heaven-bound escape.

Only now did Rogue understand that Stabbing Marie II had been triggered because of her. Logan was used to Marie, not her, not the Carol-Sabretooth-infused Rogue. Who knows what kind of mutant she had become anyway? And that voice in her head that made her lose control –it didn't belong to any of the people she absorbed. It actually sounded like her and everyone else, warped into one single entity. But now it was quiet, like it didn't exist, and yet, it made her afraid.

Pushing the fear from her mind, Rogue knew she had to talk to Chuck. Staying in the mansion was definitely not for her anymore. This wasn't safe for anyone –hell, it wasn't even safe for her. After taking a shower, Rogue opened to the door to find a sleepy Chuck on the other side, greeting her with a smile. Before she could react, he merely pointed to the single seat sofa beside her bed. Confused and a bit shocked, she opened the door wider and let him in.

"I cannot stop you if you've already made up your mind," Chuck remarked, leaning against the cushion of the chair and shrugged. "But it would be proper to bid everyone goodbye this time around."

Rogue knew it was useless to pester him about knowing about her predicament. All she could do was shake her head. "I don't even care about what they think. I just… I don't know."

Like he couldn't stop himself, Chuck suddenly asked, "Do you really have those powers?"

"What?" she asked, glaring at him pointedly. "Logan told you!?" It wasn't even lunchtime yet, the blabbermouth!

"No!" Chuck exclaimed, waving his hands in the air. "It's all he's thinking about! In fact, he's still thinking about it now."

Remembering she exposed herself in front of Logan, sexually abused him in his sleep, made Rogue screech, "STOP LOOKING INTO IT!"

"I'm NOT!" Chuck closed his eyes and covered his ears. He peeked one eye at her. "He's just really… obsessed about it."

Obsessed. Rogue huffed, crossed her arms across her chest. "Why isn't he here then?" Why can't Logan just barge in her room and talk to her?

"Now that," the telepath said, tapping the air with his forefinger. "I don't know."

Rogue sighed loudly. "I can't be with Logan now." She wanted to erase what happened between them. Or not. "There's something going on with me. I think… I think I have to deal with this by myself." I can't do it here, when all I can think about is fucking him till we're both sore.

Chuck regarded her for a second. If he read her last thought, he didn't show it. "I know I'm not the Professor you're used to, but I am still that man." He gave her a warm smile. "If you think that you will benefit from living on your own, and not just because you're running away from your problem… then you have my blessing."

"I know. You're this new hottie but you still got your mojo," Rogue joked. She was about to thank him, but his relaxed face suddenly contorted like he was offended, worried, and sick to the stomach all at once. "Chuck, what's wrong?"

Chuck cleared his throat, rubbed his temples and flashed her a grin. "On the other hand… there is something you can do before going your way." Before she can speak, he said, "Join the team in one last mission. Consider it a goodbye for old times' sake."

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Rogue exclaimed, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I'm not always joking around, mind you," Chuck said. "I just want you to know what you're missing." When the irritated expression on her face did not change, he just laughed. "OK, maybe I just want you to wear the leather suit one last time."

"Oh god, you're hopeless," Rogue hissed and pushed him away when he looked like he was going to hug her. Hands on her hips, she glared at him. "Fine. But after this, I'm out. Deal?"

"Deal," he chirped.

"I should be recording this for evidence," Rogue said, rolling her eyes. "So what do you want me to do?"

He only responded by chucking his head towards the door, and just in time, Ororo burst in the room, panic in her eyes. "CHARLES, CHUCK!" she yelled. "Moira called! JIMMY RAN AWAY!"

"I know, Ororo," Chuck responded calmly.

As she listened to Storm and Chuck converse, Rogue remembered that she never got the chance to meet Jimmy the Leech. She only heard of him through the mansion residents, during those rare occasions that the Phoenix issue was talked about in hushed voices. Apparently, Warren, the winged mutant, was the son of the man who set everything in motion and used Jimmy's mutated DNA to create the Cure. It wouldn't be a surprise at all, Chuck said, if the boy was abducted the moment he set foot out of the mansion. Of course there were still scientists out there who wanted to develop a Cure, not to help mutants, but to eliminate them for good. Revenge, possibly, from the chaos that happened months ago. It made perfect sense that they would want Jimmy back.

"I could feel Moira's distress at this very moment."

Jimmy could negate or nullify powers. It was a strange mutation, just like her own, because it didn't affect them per se –it affected the people around them. Ororo said that Jimmy stayed in the mansion for at least a week before he was transferred to Moira MacTaggert's care. Even if he was touchable, he tottered most of the mutants in his proximity, rendered training sessions useless –and he just watched that one time. For a while Rogue could sympathize with him, that she pondered had she not run away, she could have been able to touch Jimmy herself, without her gloves –touch all her friends while he was in the room. But she still wouldn't be able to touch Logan, as he was one of the many weakened by being near the Leech.

"Moira said Jimmy was always quiet, but he didn't show any signs of depression..."

Typical Marie, she reprimanded herself, always thinking about getting around her fatal mutation. But Rogue couldn't help but think: was she actually better off than Jimmy had ever been? Or was she thinking this way because she managed to use her mutation to her advantage?

"Moira has been crying. She's blaming herself–"

"Perhaps I should have come back sooner. But the fact is, Jimmy is a young boy. He is bound to be unpredictably predictable. Was he in contact with any of his friends here?"

How can Jimmy make friends in a school full of people who were taught to affirm their mutations, when all he did was reduce them powerless human beings? No wonder he didn't find solace in his new home.

"Kitty calls, but..."

And he had no personal savior like she had Logan six years ago. He probably looked up to Kitty for helping him escape back then, but where was she now? In college, trying to make a life for herself. Once again, Rogue felt lucky to have had Logan in her life back then. Everything led to where she was today, even if the situation has drastically changed.

"Storm, if you would be so kind to assist me in Cerebro?"

"Of course, Charles."

Yes, she owed this to Logan, to Chuck, and everyone else. Maybe she'd get to use her new abilities, too. One last dance as an X-Man.

"Rogue, are you coming with us?" Storm asked when Chuck stepped out of the room.

Rogue nodded. "I'll be suiting up." Staring at the empty doorway, only one question played through her head.

Who would ever think that one day, Rogue would actually be grateful she was the girl with the poison skin?

"Bravo to your first lover's quarrel. Not so fun, is it?"

Logan growled at the other mutant. "Do I look like the whiney type, Scooter? Better get your eye checked; you mistook me for a mirror." Expect him to be trapped in the locker room with Scott while Chuck was in Cerebro.

Scott, however, was not threatened. He just smirked at Logan. "So it's true."

"Butt out of-" What, Logan thought, our relationship? He shook his head and zipped his suit up to his neck. After taking a breath, he tried to adjust the collar, feeling he was lacking air. "Just butt out. Shut the fuck up."

"You know," Scott said. "Char –Chuck told me something in passing…"

The sound of the pansy's voice was obviously hinting it had something to do with Rogue, which instantly made Logan freeze on the spot. Scott just combed his hair into Ken doll perfection (Barbie knowledge, thanks to Marie). The only word he could think of was 'dork'. "Dork."

"He said this would be Rogue's last mission with the X-Men."

Logan turned around so quickly, the swish of wind made Scott's bangs fall back over his visor. "The fuck?"

Scott clenched his jaw and pushed his hair away from his eyes, still unfazed. "I haven't talked to Roguey yet. Chuck said to keep it under wraps for now." He walked to the door and Logan followed him, obviously waiting for an explanation. "I don't know about you but I always knew she wasn't staying for long." He turned to Logan, his face serious. "You and Rogue… both of you are alike. Like you with your memories, she's willing to be alone if that's what it takes to get what she–"

But I'm right here, Logan answered, but all he could do was frown.

"Not you, you self-centered prick," Scott snapped, as if reading his thoughts. "Rogue's mutation is restricting, torturous. I can only imagine what kind of hell she goes through everyday. But somehow, life out on the road… changed her. Like me, like Charles, she's this new being."

Oh you have no idea.

"She needs to travel the world. She needs to have a new life where she is truly in control."

"But she's safe here…"

"Rogue can take care of herself and you know it," Scott said. "I think you're missing the point, Logan. She needs to find peace not... in you. We all know you're a whole different can of worms, and you're not really ready to reciprocate her feelings just yet."

Was it possible to suffer a stroke from information overload? These past few days have not been kind to him, especially where Rogue was concerned. Logan could only grumble, "Huh." But he can't let her go –even more so that she had the ability to literally fly away from him. The thought of living in the mansion without her was simply absurd and unacceptable. Once was enough, Marie.

"This may come as a surprise... but you're not stupid." Scott gave him an encouraging nod and Logan growled at him again. "But we've all moved on from the past in our own ways. Why can't you do the same?"

Logan sneered at him. "Is this about Jeannie?"

Scott easily scoffed, "No. I'm talking about you." He was even brave enough to push Logan's chest with his pointer and middle finger. "Move on from your fucking pedestal and get your fucking girl!"

Logan wanted to slice those fingers off, but Scott continued abruptly, "Get this through your thick skull, Neanderthal: she doesn't need you to be her hero anymore. Get over yourself already."

I don't need you anymore, Logan.

"Gay. You're a chatty Cathy." He doesn't agree with him right away, but Logan doesn't argue either. "With a dick. Dick."

"And you're a dense douche."

"Touché."