wa·ter·shed

noun:

1. a point or division where a river is split into two distinct paths that will never intersect again.  Synonym: divide

2. a critical turning point; a defining moment.

 

I can feel the jet rumble as we make our landing, and my stomach clenches.  It's time.  I'm dreading this moment; the raw, unvarnished moment when I get off this plane and I look everyone in the eye--look her in the eye.  When I'm wondering what they see when they look at me.  When they're wondering if I'll be able to help them.  And then I'll see the look on their faces when they realize I don't have an answer to that...because I don't know if I want to or not.

The answer should be simple.  There should be no question as to whether or not I'll help them; the old me would have jumped right in and helped without hesitation.  The old me, she would have felt a sense of loyalty.  She would have possessed a sense of duty--that thing that drives all X-men to fight for the greater good, to sacrifice one's own interests for the sake of others. 

I can't feel those things any more.  I'm afraid that the old me is dead, because the only thing I can feel right now is bitterness.  Betrayal.  Abandonment.  Loneliness.  I am nothing but a means to an end.  And I want to end it all.

It's wrong, I know.  It's wrong.  Somewhere inside me I know I should feel a trace of decency and compassion for these people who were family to me.  I must have lost those things along the way at some point; like a phantom limb, those things used to be a part of me...but they've been cut away and now there is only this vague, dull ache reminding me of what is no longer there.

"Rogue."  The Professor pauses in front of the medbay, and I rise to my feet.  The look in his eyes is uncertain; it says that he is not used to being unable to read someone's mind, unable to know every thought as it passes.  It's disconcerting for him.  I know I should say something to reassure him, but the words won't come.  He nods and beckons me to follow him towards the exit.

Magneto falls into place behind me as the hatch opens; the look in his eyes says that he is not used to this, this whole letting someone else have a hand in his fate thing.  We both know he wants to force me; we both know he would if he could.  He has always been a man of action, ready at any moment to flip the tables on everyone to get what he wants.  But this time he has to wait and see.

We reach the bottom of the steps and I look around; nightfall.  The sky is dark and ominous; the air carries a chill, and with it, an uncomfortable sense of anticipation.  My first time outdoors since God knows when, and of course it has to be dark and cold; I can't remember the last time I felt the sun on my face.  But maybe it's a good thing that the sun isn't shining.  A beautiful day would feel like some kind of a mockery right now in the face of our solemn circumstances.

A gust of wind whips around us, and we all look up.  Storm, looking like a white haired goddess, stands guard at the top of the wall.  Our eyes meet; even from this great distance, I can see hope mixed with desperation.  But underlying it all is pride and that sense of duty which I no longer possess, and I swear she can see that when she looks at me.  It reminds me of the same look she gave me when I first said I wanted to take the cure.  I set my jaw and keep walking.

I can feel their eyes on me as we cross the courtyard; it's just a short way to the entrance, but it feels like an eternity before we get there.   Some faces are familiar, some not; all carry that same expression of hope and desperation, fear and courage.  Their eyes all ask the same question, and I wonder if my eyes answer them, revealing the words that my mouth can not seem to say.

Don't they understand?  I don't want this pain any more.  I don't want a second chance, don't want another future; why would I want to live a second lifetime of pain and loneliness?  I'll still be the untouchable girl at the end of the day.

Magneto waves his hand and the door to the monastery opens.  I don't want this.  I want to turn around; I want to run to the top of that wall and shout into the abyss, "Let them come!  Finish it!"  But instead my feet keep moving of their own volition, carrying me forward over that threshold.

We move down the small corridor, and Bobby is suddenly active in my head, doing the mental equivalent of pacing back and forth.

"Rogue, you have to let me talk to Kitty.  Please, just let me talk to her and--"

I clamp down and shove Bobby to the back of my mind, ignoring his plea.  I'm awful, I know.   I just can't bring myself to care.

I'm sick of this life...sick of myself; sick of what I am and what I've become.  If Magneto is right and I really am in control for once...maybe I should be the selfish one this time and not care what happens to anybody else.  Maybe I should give myself the gift of sweet oblivion from this godforsaken life.  Maybe I should---

I stop in my tracks.  Logan.  At the sudden sight of him, laying there just a few feet away, all the breath is knocked out of me.  It's really him.  My heart starts to beat so hard I feel like it's going to come out of my chest.

Logan, looking so fierce and beautiful.  The face that I know so well; the face that I've seen countless times when I've closed my eyes.  It's been so long, I'd forgotten.  I'd forgotten what it was like, what it does to me just to be near him.  There are just some things that never go away, not with time, or distance, or hardship...not even with years of trying to forget.  The sight of him is both a lance to my heart and a balm to my soul.

God, I've missed him so much.  He actually looks like he's aged since I saw him last; life has been hard, and I guess maybe even a near-immortal man is not completely immune to the ravages of war.  He looks careworn and...

Jesus, his arms are tied down.  The image causes a déjà vu so strong that it makes my stomach turn.  He's lying on that slab, looking just...vulnerable, and suddenly his nightmare of having white hot metal poured into his body comes rushing back to me.  Flashes of fear and rage and helplessness as he screams and chokes on icy green liquid--it's more than I can bear. 

It kills me to see him like this, because suddenly I realize what will happen if I choose to end it all right now.  It will mean the end for me and for everyone else...but not for Logan.  No, Logan will survive; and for him, it will be just the beginning.  Everyone he's ever cared about, the only family he's ever known will be wiped out, and he'll be all alone in the world.  And if they capture him, I know exactly what they'll do to him; with his long life, it could mean endless years of torture, imprisonment, experimentation.  I can't allow that to happen.  Something inside of me breaks.  No matter what happens to me...I have to do this for Logan.

I take a step forward, and that's when Kitty looks up and sees me approaching.  She looks haggard and sweaty, and there are blood stained rags on the floor all around her.  Her eyes warily scan the room; I know who she is searching for.

"Wh--where's Bobby?" she asks, her voice trembling and raspy.

I know that it's irrational and petty of me, but seeing her hunched over Logan like that with her hands almost touching him makes me want to rip her face off.  Logan isn't mine; he never was, I remind myself with a wince.  But that doesn't stop the hot flare of possessiveness that roars through my veins when I see Kitty sitting so intimately close to him.  And on top of that, she has the nerve to ask me about Bobby?  If looks could kill, she would be dead right now.

Bobby seizes the opportunity, and without warning his words come out of my mouth.

"I'm sorry, Kitty..."

Dammit, Bobby!  I wrestle him back down and clench my jaw shut for good measure.  Nobody is steering this ship but me, sugar, I'm sorry.

Slow realization crosses Kitty's face, and her lip begins to quiver.  Bobby is dead.  Face twisting in anguish, her head bows in sorrow as quiet sobs shake her body. 

I thought I would feel a sense of triumph watching her heart get crushed, just like mine was; but it's a hollow victory, and what little satisfaction there is leaves a bitter taste in my throat.

I step closer and brace myself for the onslaught.  Here goes nothing.

I touch her hand, and instantly I can feel her in my head, her powers and her memories surging through my body as her head throws back and veins begin to bulge in her face.  I do my best to block her memories of being with Bobby; I've already seen more than I can stand, thank you very much.  I take what I have to, just enough in order to do the job, and let go, swiftly taking her place by Logan as she falls into Magneto's arms like a limp ragdoll.  I look over my shoulder and see her twitching on the floor, and I admit--I do get some small satisfaction from dropping her like a stone.  Serves her right, I think to myself.  It's wrong, I know; but I never said I was perfect or nice.

I turn my attention back to Logan, who seems to be unaware of the exchange that just took place.

"Hello, Logan," I greet him softly.  I wish I could give him a hug like I used to when he would come home to the mansion after a trip.  "Hey kid, you miss me?"

I know he can't hear me, but I can't help repeating our old familiar greeting, if only just to hear them spoken aloud one more time.  "Not really," I whisper with a soft smile.

Logan draws in a deep breath and shudders.

Wait, did he...?  Did he hear me just now?  My heart starts to flip-flop in my chest.  Does he know it's me?

I close my eyes.  It's faint at first, but gets stronger once I recognize it...I think...I swear that I can feel a connection between us.  Does he feel it, too?

Kitty never talked about how her mutation works, but if she can phase another person's mind into the past, then she must form a connection of some kind with them in order to do that.  What if her powers work in the opposite way that mine do?  Maybe instead of taking in other people, she puts a bit of herself into the other person.

My stomach flutters at the possibility, the thought of being connected to Logan on an intimate level like that.

I sit there quietly, just listening to him breathe.  The sound calms me, and soon I can sense the connection again.  The feeling sparks a warmth in the center of my chest that spreads out slowly to the rest of my body.  Something catches the corner of my eye, and I look up.  The flicker of candle light through stained glass is throwing soft hues throughout the room, painting the stark white of my uniform with color.  Crimson...sapphire...emerald...gold...I drink in all the colors that I haven't seen in ages.

It's always been that way.  Logan comes and goes in and out of my life; and every time he returns, it's like feeling the sun's warmth after a long cold winter.  He rides in on a whirlwind, bringing color back into my world, when I didn't even know just how grey it was.

My bare hands are close to his face, and it makes me ache; I wish that I could touch him.  Slowly, I inch my fingers closer, and lightly brush his sideburns with my fingertips.

"How are you, Logan?"  I murmur.  "It's been a long time."  Since that day that I stood in your doorway as you were leaving, I think to myself. 

So many things I should have said, if I hadn't been such a chicken shit.  Don't go.  Take me with you.  Come back for me...

Any of those things would have been better than saying nothing at all.

Not that it would have mattered, a small, traitorous part of me says.  He was in love with a woman he could never have, a ghost who would always mean more to him than anyone living, least of all me. 

I push those selfish thoughts away before they take over and suffocate me.  This may be the last time that I get to see Logan, in this lifetime or the next, and I can't afford to waste it going down that road of self pity.

What can I say to him?  He probably can't hear me anyway.  Still, I can't deny that there is some kind of connection between us; and if there is, I only want good things to come through that connection.  So I try to think of something good.

"Remember the first time we met?" I ask softly.  "At that old dirty fight bar in Laughlin City?"

That was so long ago...but it's the first thing I can think of.  The first time I remember something good happening to me after my mutation manifested.

"I was a scared little runaway," I continue, "and you were such a big, mean badass, no one in their right mind would ever think to come near you," I say with a hint of a smile.  "But I knew better.  I could tell, out of all the people there, I would be the safest with you.  And I was right," I say, lightly caressing his sideburns again.  "I always knew you were the good guy."

Logan continues breathing steadily.  The connection feels calm and peaceful, so I continue.

"I was so hungry from being on the road; I hadn't eaten in days.  And when you gave me that beef jerky, I really wolfed it down, didn't I?  I saw the look on your face," I say with a quiet chuckle.

"By the way, I was right about the seat belt," I point out, referring to his insistence that he didn't need auto advice from a kid, moments before Sabretooth attacked and Logan was thrown 50 feet through the windshield.  If Logan were awake right now, he'd be calling me a smart ass and chasing me down to give me a noogie.

That was always a point of pride for me, being the only person in the entire mansion who dared to razz the Wolverine, and get away with it, too.  Not even Jean got to do that.

Thinking about Jean and Logan hurts my heart again, and I try to think of some more good things to dissipate the ache in my chest.

"Remember that time we pranked Kurt?" I say finally, glad to have another memory to latch onto.  "That was the funniest thing I had ever seen."

I can still see the surprised look on Kurt's face--well, what little of his face we could see through the cream pie filling as the crust slid to the floor.

"I don't think Kurt ever imagined in his life that he would teleport right into a dessert," I say with a little grin tugging the corner of my mouth.  "Such a trusting man.  But he took it with such good humor, didn't he?"

That was the first time I ever heard Logan really, truly laugh out loud.  I think everyone in the entire mansion stopped in their tracks, wondering what that strange sound was reverberating through the hallways.  I remember thinking how laughing made his beautiful hazel eyes sparkle, and I made up my mind right then, that I was going try to make him laugh like that as much as possible.

I never could after that day, though.  That was right before Jean came back from the dead.

The thought pricks my heart and I silently curse myself.  Why can't I just get through one decent stretch of time without my thoughts and memories leading to pain?  And why am I sitting here talking about silly old memories to an unconscious man when the world is about to end for us? 

Maybe because I know that there is something else I need to say, but I can't bring myself to say it.

Suddenly the Professor inhales, and a look of dread passes over his face.

"They've found us."

Oh, god.

Magneto stands up quickly and goes to help the others ward off the sentinels, casting a foreboding glance at us as he leaves.

This is it.  Time is running out.  And as I look down at Logan I realize, if there is anything I need to say to him, this is my last chance.  No more denial.  No more holding it in.  No more beating around the bush.

"Logan...I...I've missed you so much," I say softly, so low that only he can hear me.  "A lot has happened since I last saw you.  Since you...left...and went to Canada.  While you were in Japan..."

I swallow and close my eyes.  I feel like my heart is being squeezed in my chest, just thinking about Logan pining over Jean.  Making love to the woman in Japan.  Moving on with his life while I was trapped in that place...

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

"I know you were having a hard time, after...what happened," I say finally, opening my eyes again.  "I hope you found some peace in your travels." 

I gently stroke his sideburns.

"Did thoughts of me ever bring some measure of comfort to you?  Because I want you to know...I thought about you every single day.  Saw your face in my dreams...sometimes even talked to you.  Well, the old you in my head, anyway, leftover from all those years ago when you healed me.  And I want you to know...it was a comfort to me."

I can hear the wind starting to pick up outside.  Storm is gearing up for the attack, and it sounds like a hurricane approaching.

"When they captured me...and they did their experiments...and there was no night or day and no end to the pain and I thought I was going crazy, I...I wanted to die.  The only thing that kept me breathing in and out was your voice, Logan, telling me to hang on.  Telling me that the real you was out there, looking for me...promising that you would find me, and slash through those walls to break me free," I say with a tremble in my voice.  "'Hold on just a little longer, Rogue.  I'm coming,' you'd say.  'I'll take care of you...'"

A tear slides down my cheek.  It hurts to say these things, but I have to keep going.  Last chance, I remind myself.

"You never came for me.  You never came...but...I don't blame you, Logan.  I know that you had your own life to live, your own demons to fight.  It's just that...I needed you, Logan.  Everyone abandoned me, and I needed you.  And I know it's selfish of me to ask, but...in the next life, if we know each other, please..."

The words are stuck in my throat as another tear rolls down my face.  Outside, the wind is howling, thunder is crashing.  Then, a huge explosion goes off, causing the earth to shudder beneath our feet.

"Logan, promise me," I whisper.  "Promise that you'll find me in the next life, and please...take care of me.  Even if it seems like I'm ok.  Just...look after me once in a while."

Everything is quiet for a moment.  And then I hear the words, just barely audible, whispered from his lips.  "I promise..."

Oh my god, he...he answered me.  Is this real?

I want to say more, but then suddenly Professor gasps and his head throws back. 

"Storm..."

Mayhem ensues, and it sounds like chunks of metal slamming against the door; Magneto is building a barrier.  Kitty rushes forward, phasing through the door and pulling Magneto back inside with her.  He leans back heavily against the wall and slides to the floor, blooding dripping from his stomach.

Logan begins struggling against the restraints, grunting and growling as his face grimaces in pain.  His claws fly out with a metallic sing as his distress escalates, and then his growls morph into a full on yell of agony.

"Oh dear god, no," utters the Professor.  We all watch in horror as Logan begins choking and gasping, as if he is drowning.

"Shhh...shhh...it's ok Logan.  Everything is going to be ok," I whisper, stroking his sideburns, kissing his head.

After what seems like an eternity, the choking subsides.  But I'm still so scared for him and I pray that he's not suffering right now.  I continue caressing him and making soothing sounds.

Outside, we can hear battle cries and cries of agony as the X-men fight and are slaughtered one by one.  Ancient structures crumbling to the ground.  Fire and rending of the earth.  Devastation and annihilation.  Then the sound of destruction at our door.

"Logan, there's something else I need to tell you," I whisper desperately.  "Something I should have told you all those years ago."

The door is smashed open as sentinels crawl in from every direction. 

And here we are at the world's end.  There is no more time.  Nothing left, except to say last words; this is the moment when we are reduced to our singlemost naked, essential truth.

The sentinel's face opens like a ghastly mouth of blinding, white hot flame. 

"Goodbye, Logan.  I love you."

...

...

 

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