I drop Logan’s hand, stand up, and step forward, preparing to meet Bobby head on. He’s displayed ridiculous possessiveness before, and I’m too emotionally drained from Logan's story to deal with it right now. I cross my arms and narrow my eyes. Logan’s presence behind me bolsters my determination not to put up with Bobby’s nonsense today, so by the time he comes puffing up to us I’m ready to rip into him.
Of course, Bobby starts yelling before he even comes to a stop. “Rogue, I can’t believe you! We were supposed to have dinner together, remember? I waited around for you like an idiot, and now I find you out here with him, holding hands. What the fuck’s going on?”
I roll my eyes and take a deep breath. “One, I never said I was going to eat with you this evening. You made that assumption. I was too exhausted to eat after teaching and tutoring all day, so I came out for some fresh air. Two, when I saw that my best friend was having a bad day, I reached out to him, just like I would expect you to with John or Kitty.” Although we both know Kitty’s not only your friend, don't we? “Three, I’m tired of the accusations and the expectations you put on me to be your idea of perfect. I’m sick of it all. You have no right to treat me like this, and I’m through. Go find someone else who's willing to be your pet. I want a real relationship.”
“What, with him?” Bobby sneers toward Logan, who steps up beside me.
I shrug. “Well, couldn’t be worse than an overgrown boy who can't make up his mind. Go away, Bobby.” I turn back towards the bench. Bobby’s hand flashes out and grips my upper arm, and next to me Logan growls.
“You’d better rethink that one real quick, bub.”
I laugh. “He knows better, Logan. But thanks.” I shake off Bobby’s hand as if he was nothing more than an annoying mosquito that happened to land on my shirt sleeve.
Bobby storms off, although I can feel the heat of his parting glare. It’s amazing how someone whose mutation involves controlling ice has such a hot temper he can’t contain. I’m a little surprised that he didn't attempt a childish trick like ice down my back or something. Instead I’m left alone and basically unharrassed to deal with the repercussions of his little outburst towards Logan.
I can’t even bear to look up at him as I clear my throat. “Sorry about that. Bobby’s always been a little…touchy over how much time I spend with you. He just doesn’t understand.”
Logan sits back down on the bench. “Why don't you explain it to me? We were…pretty close, where I come from, but I knew the reasons then. I don’t now, at least not yet.”
I blush. “Wouldn’t you rather gain the memories slowly?”
“Nah. I’d like to hear your point of view, if that’s okay.”
He sounds so uncertain, and it breaks my heart. It’s been years since I’ve heard that tone in his voice. I sink down on the bench with a sigh.
“Okay, but it’s not a pretty story.” I pause, unsure where to start.
“Just start at the beginning and go from there. It works, promise.”
I take a deep breath. “I was fourteen when my mutation manifested. It was during my first kiss. I put the boy in a coma. I don’t even know if he ever came out of it, although I hope he did. He was just a boy I had a crush on, not someone who deserved what I can do. My parents kicked me out with just the clothes on my back. I hitched my way from Mississippi to New Orleans with a nice lady who didn’t understand why I wouldn’t let her hug me goodbye. I fell in pretty quickly with a gang of runaway mutants, but we weren’t very successful at stealing to eat. We were all close to starvation when she found us.”
“She said her name was Raven, and she was going to help us if we’d let her. The others didn’t trust her and ran off, but I was scared of being on my own and hated it. I’d never known what it was like to be homeless and so hungry before, and I was willing to do anything to get away from that.”
“Raven did everything up legally, became my foster mother and eventually my adoptive mother. She didn’t try to force me to do anything I didn't want to—except chores, normal stuff, and I began to feel safe again. She was a mutant, too, and she was able to help me become less afraid of my abilities. I always thought there was more to her than she was willing to tell me, but she didn’t like to talk about her past, and I could respect that. Just mentioning my parents in passing without breaking down took me almost a decade, and back then I couldn’t even think about them without turning on the waterworks.”
I pause and chance a glance at Logan. He’s staring off into the distance, and I can tell he’s started to connect the dots. “When I was seventeen Mama—that’s what I was calling her by then—said that she had to go visit a friend and left me in New Orleans. It wasn't the first time she’d done that, but this time I didn’t hear from her that night or any time in the following week. I began to get worried, but she hadn’t left any contact information, so all I could do was wait. She’d left enough money for a month of groceries and made sure the rent and utilities were paid up before she left. I found out later that she was helping Charles and Erik with a crisis in France that got out of control.”
“Before Mama got back, I was contact by someone who said he was her friend. I found out later that he was a con artist who’d crossed her a decade earlier and got the worse end of the deal, so he decided the time was right for a little payback. This guy had gone from petty con artist to part of the mutant slave trade, and he figured Raven’s daughter was a good target to start his revenge, although he wanted to lure her in eventually, too.”
“He knocked me out with something in a syringe while my back was turned, and the next thing I knew I woke up in a cell. Sometime in between he must have touched my skin because I had bits of his mind inside mine, so I knew whoever was holding me knew what I could do. Surprise surprise, as soon as I was awake they began experimenting on me. I was tied down, and they brought in animals, humans, and finally mutants to see what they could learn about my mutation. Thankfully my skin doesn’t work on animals, but the human slaves and the mutants they brought in…well, you know how that went. They play around, letting the contact go longer and longer. I killed twice, once a human and once a mutant. That last one was a mistake. They really shouldn’t have put me and Carol Danvers in the same cell, let alone together in the same head.” My lips stretch up in what might have been a smile.
“Carol. That’s—in my timeline, when you were captured by the Sentinels pretty much the same thing happened, and she was the last one they exposed you to before we broke you out. But you were a lot older than seventeen.”
“I’m sure it was easier to deal with, then. Well, maybe. I know that at seventeen I had a hell of a time figuring how what way was up right after draining her. That’s where I got this, by the way,” I tell him, flicking the white strands hanging in front of my eye, shielding me from him slightly.
“I wondered. It was Erik’s fault in my timeline.”
I shake my head and let out a little laugh. “Wow. Erik was the one who broke me out of there. He and a small group attacked just after I went after my own guards. We freed the human and mutant slaves, and then Erik offered me a place here. I started to explain about Mama, and that’s when he told me that Mama was badly injured during that mission in France and was in a coma. She'd left instructions with Erik and Charles on where to find me, in case something happened to her, and when they went to pick me up they realized I’d disappeared. That’s when Charles used Cerebro to find me. I just wish it hadn’t taken so long, but they were busy helping the refugees in France first, so…”I shrug because, really, the past couldn’t be changed.
I see Logan’s hands clench, and I can tell he’s barely restraining the urge to pop the claws. It’s touching, since he doesn’t remember that particular version of teenage me. “Why the hell did he break it to you like that? What if she hadn’t survived?”
“What, you want the word for word details? He didn’t sugarcoat it, but it wasn’t that terrible. A shock, sure, but the whole situation was shitty,” I scoff at him. “Besides, if your Eric is anything like the one I know, then you know that sensitive emotional topics aren't exactly his strong suit, at least not when his own emotions are involved.” Logan grunts, probably the only acknowledgement I’ll get for the truth of that, and I take that as my cue to continue.
“You were away when I first came here. I learned later that you were training in Japan, trying to control the more…animalistic side of your mutation. I heard rumors about the great Wolverine,” I shoot him a little grin, “but my first impression of you was less than positive, for both of us. I was going through what the Professor called one of my ‘episodes,’ where Carol was doing her damnedest to take over my mind. Her personality was so strong, you see, that it tended to overwhelm me. So she was in a rage, screaming at everyone and everything around us, throwing furniture, in a full tilt tantrum, while inside my own mind I was trying to tamp her down with the help of Jean and Charles. You walked in right in the middle of the chaos, took one look at what was going on, walked over and knocked me out with one punch.”
Logan stares at me like I’ve gone crazy. I’m sure that wasn’t what he was expecting. “No, really, it was for the best. While my body was unconscious, we were able to get a better grip on Carol and—lock her away for a while, I guess you might say. Charles and Eric explained my situation while I was out, and then while you caught them up on your training in Japan Charles got his brilliant idea. He wanted you to teach me meditation in the hopes that one day I would be able to control the personalities in my head on my own. You weren’t exactly thrilled with the idea, and when I woke up, neither was I.”
I laugh a little at the memory. “I tried to refuse, and you just sat there glaring. Charles was very calm, of course, explaining that this was the best solution for everyone. They would be able to relax their guard around me, knowing that an ‘episode’ was less likely, I would have more freedom, and you would have the experience of coaching a new student one-on-one, something you hadn't had much opportunity for yet because you were fairly new here yourself. He even dangled the carrot of controlling my mutation in front of me, saying that if I could become in tune with my body I might have more chance of figuring it out.”
“The first sessions were a disaster. I didn’t want to do anything you said, typical teenage angst, and you were still trying to learn to keep your temper in check—and failing miserably, in my case. After the third time I stormed out of our sessions early, you followed me and gave me a good chewing out, all about how I wasn’t a little kid anymore and needed to learn to act like an adult, and how I was I supposed to gain control of my mutation if I couldn't even control my fucking breathing? The whole mansion heard us, and then we were called into the Professor’s office, first one at a time, then together.”
“If your individual meeting with him was anything like mine, then you got the ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ speech. Once he had us both together, he let us know on no uncertain terms that the meditation sessions would continue. I tried harder after that, if only so that eventually I’d be able to stop and wouldn't have to see you as much. Things were pretty tense between us for a long time, and we couldn't even stand being in the same room together if we weren't forced into it.”
“Mama woke up from her coma about that time, and I was so busy helping her with her rehabilitation that I guess I was distracted from my resentment of you. The meditation sessions were just one more part of my day, insignificant in comparison to everything else I had on my plate. However, once she was feeling better, I noticed that she was putting a lot of distance between herself and the rest of us. I didn’t know how to handle that, so when she up and disappeared on another mission a few months after, the meditation was about the only thing I had to hold on to. I threw myself into it, which really surprised you. I guess you expected a breakdown from me when she left.”
He chuckles. “I probably did. Sounds like you were a firecracker.”
“Well, not long after, at the end of one of our sessions, I tripped on the way out the door. You caught my arm to keep my from falling—above my glove. It wasn’t much, but it was skin-to-skin contact, and I wasn’t draining you. I did lose it then, hugging you, running down the hall screaming the Professor’s name, dancing around and grinning like an idiot. Thankfully this was in the middle of the day on the weekend, but I must have looked insane.”
“Nah. You were just happy.”
I glance over to see him smiling at me, a light of recognition in his eyes. “So you remember that?”
“It’s coming back to me. I don't remember all the details, but I do remember the hug.”
I blush and shrug. “We got along better after that. I think it gave you a feeling of accomplishment, that something you did helped me control my mutation. I was ecstatic, until I realized that it didn’t last more than a minute or so after the meditation sessions. When I started to slump into a depression, you pulled me out. You said that as your star student, I couldn’t let a little set back get me down. We’d concentrate more on the physical sensations during meditation, figure out what might be going on and how I was controlling it, and then I would be able to go longer. That was ten years ago, and I can control my mutation for as long as three hours at a time now. It was slow going, but I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“It sounds like we spend a lot of time together, though. It’s not just about training you anymore, I guess?” He makes it sound like a question. I feel horrible for him, to be so unsure of even such simple things as friendships.
“Course not, silly. You're my best friend around here. If I didn't have you…well, I don’t know what I’d do, but I don’t think it would be pretty.” I bump his shoulder with mine. “You’re always there for me, and same here. At least, I like to think you know I’m always here for you.”
This is starting to get embarrassing. We don’t usually say this sort of thing out loud, for goodness sake. Our friendship just exists, so natural now that the memories of those days when I was sure I would always hate him seem like they belong to someone else, as if I pulled them from another mind with my mutation.
“I do know that,” Logan says, all gruff the way he can be when he’s getting embarrassed, too. “Seems like that’s the case no matter what reality I’m in.”
I nod and decide to lighten the subject, if I can. “Good. I’m glad to know I’m not an idiot in at least one other timeline,” I tease him. “Now, why don't we go grab some food from the kitchen? I’m sure there are some leftovers in the fridge, and I can fill you in on some of the other differences around here. If you want me to, that is.”
He stands up and shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. “How can I refuse a personal tour guide to my new timeline? Especially one who teaches history?” He seems more relaxed, and I’m so glad that I jump up and grab his hand, pulling him along behind me.
“Let’s go, then!”
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
I know it has been a long time, and I am so, so very sorry. Real life got in the way. But I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Chapter End Notes:
And so what do you think of Rogue's alternate history here?