A slash.
A spray of blood.
A swipe of claws.
A howl of pain.
Rogue dodged the heavy outstretched arm of Sabretooth just in time. She did a quick shoulder roll to her right, came up in a deep lunge, and bared her teeth at him as he whirled around to face her again. She was breathing hard, the exertion of the long fight finally getting to her, even with the borrowed strength and endurance of Wolverine humming inside her.
She knew she needed to put an end to the struggle. She could hear the bangs and shouts of Scott and Jean from behind Cerebro’s doors and knew it wouldn’t be much longer before they managed to get out. It would be quick. A blast from behind Scott’s glasses, or a carefully directed thought from Jean and they’d be on her in a minute. And she didn’t want that. Didn’t want them getting in the way and interfering with what she wanted, no - needed - to do.
Gotta surprise him, catch him off guard.
The instructions came from inside her mind with a growl and she nodded, agreeing with Wolverine’s advice. He knew more than her about Creed’s fighting style, knew how to take him down.
As she slashed and spun avoiding a vicious kick aimed directly at her head, she began to view herself as an instrument. Her body was singing, led by the instincts running free inside her, in tune with the master who was playing her. She rolled again as Sabretooth continued his relentless pursuit, claws and fangs bared as he drove her back down the halls beneath the former headquarters of the X-Men. She had an odd sort of double vision of these halls. There were minor differences she spotted from the halls of her own world, and they were sort of overlaid onto Logan’s memories of this place. She could see the other her, Marie, in these halls. She felt baffled by the flashes of Logan’s memories of what was essentially her.
But still. His presence itself inside her mind didn’t feel foreign, and was not at all like absorbing the memories of Emmett Knox. No. When she had finally let down that last barrier of restraint and allowed Logan to heal her, she’d been stunned at the smooth feeling of his body pouring into hers. Maybe it was because he’d wanted to help her so badly, but the first brush of his mind against hers was almost unbearably gentle. A light, feather touch of his presence, then more and more until she could feel him filling her up with his warmth and concern and memories.
Rogue twisted her body to avoid another hit and grinned as she shoved her claws into Creed’s exposed side. He roared and backhanded her so hard she was ripped away from him and found herself slammed head first into the metal wall behind her. If she hadn’t had the good fortune of having access to a borrowed healing factor, she was pretty sure she would have had been knocked out.
As it was, she just shook her head to clear the blood from her eyes and whirled to face Sabretooth one more. He was closer than she’d guessed. She found herself staring up at him as he towered over her and gripped her throat with one hand, while the other trapped her hands against her body. The incredible bulk of his body was pressed against her and she could feel the panic of claustrophobia beginning to envelop her.
Fuck!
Don’t panic. Make him think yer a goner. Then. Make yer move.
She found herself struggling against his grip, could feel her body starving for oxygen, and could feel her body fighting to keep her conscious at the same time, trying to replenish oxygen to her brain. Still, she could see her vision beginning to darken and it wasn’t hard to feign falling unconscious. It was harder not to wince as Creed threw her to the cold hard floor. She could feel his breath close to her neck, no doubt trying to make sure she really was out. When she felt a puff of air against her cheek, she struck. She whipped out her arm, grabbed at the scratchy skin of his neck with her bare hand and held on.
She was barely able to process the shock on his face before the pain began.
It was nothing like Logan. Creed was kicking and screaming as she pressed her hand to his face, then froze as she gritted her teeth and began screaming as the fight ceased being physical and instead changed to an entirely mental one solely inside now entered her mind.
It didn’t stop.
There was growling and yelling and swirls of thought and memory mixing together. Too much. Too much! Animals and people and emotions. And anger.
Fuck. Ahh! Jesus. No! I can’t hold on.
You can. Put him away. Like the others.
You can’t. You’re weak. Nothing. Tasty though. Sweet girl.
Shut up!
She kept her grip on Creed, unable to let go now as she focused on the mental battle of wills taking place inside her. It was her and Logan and Wolverine and Sabretooth. And Emmett Knox. Oh fuck. How? He’d been gone for so long. She’d had control for so long that she was utterly unprepared for the onslaught of hatred and evil coming from the man. Sabretooth laughed inside her mind as he felt the other presence emerging. She could feel him growing stronger as she took more and more of him inside her. She knew she needed to break contact now, but she couldn’t move. She was frozen, paralyzed by the storm inside her as her she tried to control the minds that warred for dominance. The swirling of personalities was causing an enormous pressure to build and she found herself swung from one end of the spectrum to the other.
She began to scream then, and barely noticed the blast of red light that struck the back of her hand forcing her to break contact with Creed’s skin.
Rogue rushed into consciousness and bolted upright in bed.
A nightmare.
No. A memory.
She shuddered and tore off the covers as Victor’s growing presence sent her tearing out of her room. Her breathing was shallow, her body soaked in sweat.
I need Logan.
No. You don’t.
Yes. Need him to help shove back Creed. Creed hates him.
Just go find the Professor. He can help.
She found herself vacillating between what she wanted, and her damn pride as she paced back and forth down the corridor outside her room. She’d been avoiding Logan for an entire day now, ever since their confrontation about her indecision about wanting to go home. She was still seething. Furious that he was upset with her. Why couldn’t he understand that she might want to go home? Back to her friends, her home. Back to a Jubilee that was alive, and her Kitty, and…
She swallowed convulsively as she fought the sudden urge from her stomach to purge its meager contents. Her thoughts shifted to Remy and she found her feet glued to her current position in the hallway, halfway to Logan’s room. Her hands were at her sides, clenching reflexively into fists. She’d purposely pushed Remy out of her mind. Ever since that moment in Cerebro when she’d chosen to live.
When she’d chosen Logan.
God. Remy. If she ever got back, how would she explain what had happen? What she’d done? But then an image of Gambit’s screaming face, red eyes blazing with rage, and his closed fist smashing into her already bruised jaw surfaced in her mind.
Forget telling him what she’d done. How would she ever able to look him in the face again without seeing what this world’s Gambit had done to her?
A sudden low purring echoed in her mind and she shivered as Creed’s words enveloped her.
Just you wait, sweet girl. Remy ain’t done with you yet. Not by a long shot. He an’ I are gonna rip you apart, piece by piece.
A growl then and she felt Wolverine’s presence growing stronger as he tried to fight back Creed’s occupation. She tried to focus on Wolverine’s confidence rather than Creed’s fear, but could feel herself slipping. Could feel the oily blackness descending and she fought back sheer panic now, fought the blood roaring in her ears as she took off toward the Professor’s quarters. It was late, she knew, but she couldn’t hold Creed back any longer. Not without help.
Rogue saw a small sliver of warm light coming from beneath Charles’ door, and didn’t bother knocking. Not if he was already awake. She burst in to his office, mouth stuck on the words Creed was trying to choke back, stunned to see Logan sitting across from the Professor.
Logan didn’t appear to be surprised to see her, and no wonder. She hadn’t exactly been trying to sneak quietly on her way there.
He frowned at her, his muscled forearms crossed at his chest, one boot-clad ankle propped casually against his opposite knee.
Jesus, he looks good. I wanna strip that gray t-shirt right off him and lick my way up his chest. The thought rose up without warning and she felt Creed’s displeasure at the thought.
See? Ya need him.
“Rogue.”
The Professor spoke kindly, but forcefully. Shit. Had she been projecting? Her thoughts were in so much turmoil, she hadn’t given any thought to shielding them.
“Professor,” she was panting slightly, panic still too close to the surface, “I need -”
“Yes, of course.” Charles murmured. Rogue found herself grateful that she didn’t need to explain her predicament any further. “Logan? Perhaps we can continue this conversation at a later time.”
Logan nodded and rose from his seated position without uttering a word. He hesitated as he passed her, and as Rogue looked up at him she saw his jaw clench. Like he was stopping himself from speaking to her. A pang of unexpected hurt rose up inside her. What had he been doing here in the middle of the night? Had he been talking to Charles about what she’d said? Betrayal stung sharply then. She had assumed they would tell Charles about Rift together.
How exactly didja plan on doin’ that if you were avoiding him?
Shut up. She hissed back at Wolverine.
While she’d been busy with her internal dialog, Logan had strode past her and quietly closed the door behind him. She turned back and stared at the closed door, feeling strangely cold and alone.
“Rogue, please sit down.”
She turned back to the Professor and saw he had a calm and kind smile on his face, as he gestured to the chair where Logan had been sitting just a moment ago.
“Let’s see what we can do about Creed.”
_____________________
Logan closed the door behind him quietly and exhaled with frustration as he wrestled with Wolverine’s instinct to rip the door back open and haul Rogue off to his room. Logan hadn’t wanted to leave either. But his fuckin’ pride wasn’t having it. The fact that Rogue hadn’t sought him out - in fact had been outright avoiding him - since their blow-up the other night pissed him off. He’d been waiting for her to come around, for her to realize she wanted to stay. But she hadn’t. She’d stayed away from him, moping, or hiding. Not showing up for meals or training. He’d hoped that she’d turn up the next morning at ten o’clock with the others, ready for a sparring session. But she hadn’t.
In her absence, he’d been tough on the rest of the team. Mean. Surly. He’d pushed them farther than he should have. He wanted to punish every last one of them for showing up when she hadn’t. But even after round after brutal round of sparring, miles on the treadmill, and grueling weight sets, he wasn’t satisfied. He’d been even more pissed off when not a single member of the team had called him on his shit. They’d all fuckin’ taken it. Like they knew. Like they understood. And that just made him even angrier somehow.
After he’d yelled at everyone announcing training was over with a casual, “Get the fuck out!”, he’d worked out his frustrations on an unsuspecting BOB. Punching. Kicking. Shredding. Impaling. And finally, putting it out of its misery as he wrenched it up from the bolted plate in the cement floor and hurling it across the basement with a roar.
The full meaning of the conversation he and Rogue’d had started to eat at him. Rift was alive. He was out there. Either in the hands of The Brotherhood, or the Friends of Humanity. And Logan didn’t like either of those options. Neither one would lead to anything good. Rift was a threat to his relationship with Rogue, either way. If she chose to stay, or chose to leave. That realization had taken it out of both him and Wolverine, and he’d trudged out of the gym to the showers, letting the warm spray run over his suddenly exhausted muscles. Healing factor couldn’t do shit for that type of hurt.
Later, he’d been tossing in his own bed, unable to sleep, surrounded by the scents of sex that still clung to the sheets. Remnants of Rogue were everywhere after having spent two straight days in his room. He ripped off the sheets and stuffed them into the closet, hoping that would diminish that fucking amazing scent of hers, but all it accomplished was swirling that scent around in the air. Logan wrenched open the window as a last ditch effort to calm the air. But as he looked down at the deck below, all he could think about was that moment two nights ago when she’d launched herself against him, and kissed him like she’d never be able to get enough of him.
That was the last fuckin’ straw. He couldn’t take anymore of it and stormed out of his room, determined to tell Chuck about what Rogue had revealed. He had to tell someone, and if she wasn’t gonna talk to him and work things out, he’d find someone who might be able to help. If only a little.
He’d found himself outside the Professor’s office one hand poised above the solid wood door when he heard a quiet, “Come in, Logan.”
Snorting slightly at Chuck’s consistent habit of calling people into his office before they had a chance to knock, he smoothly turned the knob and stepped inside.
“It’s late. Wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”
Charles smiled tiredly at Logan as he shuffled the mass of papers on his desk into a neat pile. He was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, but the usually immaculate suit was looking a little worse for wear. The suit jacket was thrown carelessly over the back of his chair, and Logan was wracking his brain for another time in which he’d seen Charles’ shirtsleeves rolled up. “I find it difficult to sleep when the world is in such chaos.”
He didn’t elaborate further, and Logan didn’t push. He trusted Charles to confide in him when necessary. And if he was bein’ honest with himself, he didn’t want to know what else was comin’ their way. Not just yet.
“I could take a guess at what’s brought you here in the middle of the night, but that would be rude of me.”
Logan raised one eyebrow at him and exhaled sharply. He knew what Charles was thinking. That he needed to talk about Rogue. And in a roundabout way, he was right. But Logan knew Charles had no idea what he was about to reveal about what Rogue had told him. There would have been no way for him to garner that from her mind when she’d been brought back to their headquarters. She’d been out of her mind. Or rather, trapped inside it. “Nah,” he responded with a grin. “Go ahead, Chuck. Take your best shot.”
Charles met his eyes and studied him for a moment before Logan cut in. “Hey. None of that. You wanna guess what I’m here about? You gotta do it the old fashioned way.”
A small laugh escaped Charles and he nodded. “Very well.” He narrowed his eyes and clasped his fingers together as he appraised Logan’s posture. “I would assume this visit has something to do with Rogue.”
“Chuck, that is the equivalent of me takin’ a look at you and guessing you can’t walk.”
Charles surprised him with a quick burst of laughter before resuming his study of Logan. He took a few more seconds to formulate his guess, his brief-lived amusement vanishing quickly.
“I can only assume that you have news regarding The Brotherhood or Friends of Humanity.”
Logan nodded, a terse jerk of his head. “Yeah, but that’s the thing. I’m not sure which one.” And he proceeded to tell Charles what Rogue had told him about Rift. About The Brotherhood’s interest in her confirming what he was capable of.
When he finished, Charles sighed tiredly and rubbed his forehead with one hand. “Unfortunately Logan, you’ve just provided me with the missing piece of the puzzle I’ve been working on.”
A bad feelin’ was rising in the pit of Logan’s stomach and he could feel the restlessness and guarded alertness emanating from the Wolverine inside as he waited for Chuck to enlighten him. Whatever it was, he knew he wasn’t gonna like it.
“Earlier this evening I was made aware of a disturbing piece of news regarding The Brotherhood’s future pla-”
Charles broke off with a sudden turn of his head and Logan tensed as he jerked his own head in response to a sudden noise coming from outside the hallway. He sniffed and relaxed. It was Rogue. He could detect a tinge of fear in her scent, along with, he realized with a barely restrained growl, the sour smell of Creed. Fuck. She’s havin’ trouble containing the bastard.
The door to the office flew open and Rogue stormed in, her hair flying behind her with the speed of her entry. Her eyes were slightly wild as she took in the sight of Logan sitting across from Charles. He wouldn’t be the first one to talk.
Yer bein’ an idiot, came the sudden low growl from Wolverine. Shove yer pride and take her back to bed. Show ‘er how sorry ya are.
The thought was too appealing. And Logan forced his eyes away from her with difficulty and looked back at Charles. Whatever he’d been about to reveal was gonna be bad. But it could wait.
Logan found himself cringing inside at the plea that issued from Rogue’s lips. She needed the Professor. Why didn’t she need him?
He got up without a word to either Rogue or Charles and let himself out, closing the door softly behind him. Sleep, he told himself. Gotta sleep it off.
A snicker echoed inside his mind. Since when were ya able to sleep off yer thoughts about her, bub?
Fuck, Logan thought as he changed course and strode downstairs to the basement instead. It was gonna be a long night.
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Chapter End Notes:
Thank you all so much for the love on this story. I love writing this and wish I could devote all my time to it, but sigh, Real Life finds a way to get in the way. Thanks are also due to the amazing @englishmajor226 for her beta work, as well as head canon discussions about this story. Still a lot left in this story, so I hope you’re hanging in there with me! Cheers.