The last month was a blur, a vague jumble of images as if Rogue wasn’t the one that had lived through it. It was like trying to watch a power point presentation when the slides are all out of order. The last clear memory she had was waiting for the jet to return from the sentinel factory.
She hadn’t been able to sleep and had wandered down to the hanger. The team was late on returning and she had become a little anxious that the mission had gone wrong. Jean had joined her and tried to hold a conversation. Rogue had barely paid attention because it seemed to have some double meaning that was lost to her. She felt bad dismissing Jean so casually when the jet landed and the team disembarked.
Mr. Summers was out first, followed by Hank and Storm. It was odd because, after all of the planning that went into this operation, Rogue didn’t think Storm was on the team. She began walking to the jet to greet Logan, but Mr. Summers stopped her. He spoke to her; she watched his mouth move and marveled how no sound came out. When that lost its fascination, she simply tried to walk past him.
Logan was dead. Rogue thought she was supposed to laugh, she’d played some pranks with the team before but this seemed cruel. The disbelief quickly gave way to anger and when Mr. Summers wouldn’t get out of her way she physically struck out at him. He held firm until she was pleading and crying and Jean “suggested” Rogue needed to sleep.
In med bay there had been an endless parade of friendly faces coming to chat. She didn’t feel like talking, not that they were really doing anything else but keeping an eye on her. The time drug on and she would have been there longer if she hadn’t gotten up one night and made her way to Logan’s bed where she wrapped herself around his pillow and cried.
Jubilee was the first to visit her. She brought Rogue’s favorite foods and curled up with her on the bed. Jubes told her, she’d be okay, she was strong and they would help her. She also told the story of her parents dying and Rogue finally cried for someone besides herself.
Sometime later Kitty stopped by, casting a worried glance at the untouched food. She sat on the bed and opened a book, explaining that her Grandmother read this when family passed away. Carefully Kitty read to her; Rogue didn’t understand the language, but it gave her a sense of comfort and lulled her to sleep.
Again, people came and went, she ate occasionally hoping they would leave her alone if she did. One morning she heard the door; whoever it was came at the same time every day. She took a deep breath; she was a complete mess and needed to pull herself together. It was what Logan would have required her to do. She smiled to herself, thinking of his ‘no slackers’ policy.
"What..." She cleared the raspiness of too many tears and too little use from her throat and tried again, "What day is it?"
“Tuesday.” Mr. Summers? She sat up to make sure it was truly him. He gave her a patient smile and answered the next question before she could ask. “Almost three weeks.”
Taking a big breath, she looked around the room. The entire mansion had walked around her for weeks while she held them up from moving on. She assessed what little Logan owned; it would need to be packed so a new maintenance man could have the apartment. “I should pack up his stuff.”
Both of Mr. Summers’ eyebrows shot up and he sat down the food tray he had. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“No, but…” she trailed off. She needed to do something besides feeling sorry for herself.
He nodded, picking up yesterday’s supper tray. “I’ll be back after my nine o’clock class.”
Rogue used the time to eat a little, which turned into her snarfing down the entire meal. She hadn’t realized how hungry she’d gotten. It had been three weeks since she’d really eaten much more than the bare minimum so she wouldn’t be put back in the med bay.
She had to move on; she knew it and didn’t want to but she couldn’t remain in bed forever and expect others to be responsible for her. Jubilee and Mr. Summers both lost their parents early on and had found a way to keep going. They would be there for advice if she needed it.
Dragging herself into the bathroom, she decided the best way to get going was how she started every morning, with a shower. It was a simple thing that didn’t require any true effort. Standing under the hot spray, she tried not to think of the last time she showered here pressed up against the wall by Logan.
She could remember every last moment of that day in surprising clarity. His need for her had been so real, the fact that she had wanted to take their relationship slow only made things worse. When he had offered her a space in his life, she should've jumped on it. Instead she was left with regret that she didn't spend more time with him, didn't let him push her up against the shower wall more often.
Quickly, she finished up, dried off and dressed before she was overwhelmed with the thought of what she had lost. Toweling off her hair, she stared at the bed. Three weeks...the sheets would need to be changed and there was other laundry that needed to be done. It was another simple step she could take.
Turning back to the bathroom, she grabbed the other towel hanging on the rack. It was Logan’s, and it still smelled like him after so many weeks. The tears started and she couldn’t make them stop. She sat down on the edge of the tub, bawling like a baby.
That was how Mr. Summers found her when he came back. He sat down on the edge of the tub and put an arm around her. She leaned her head on his shoulder, clutching the towel to her chest, a hiccup followed by more tears running down her face.
After a while, she quieted. “You probably think I’m being silly,” she muttered. Rogue took a deep breath and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. “Your parents…” she couldn’t finish the sentence.
“No, you’re not silly.” He rubbed her upper arm. “I never got a chance to grieve when they died. There was Alex to look after, moving, the orphanage… You take all the time you need.”
She could hear the regret in his voice and had a small glimpse into why he was at times so strict. Maybe that was his way of protecting the students from what he could. However, protecting her from the harsh reality of moving on wasn’t doing either of them any favors.
Swiping at her nose again, Logan wouldn’t want to see her this way and that was the solid footing she needed. “Thanks, but I’m sure I’m holding up the process of getting a new maintenance man.”
Mr. Summers stood and gently removed the towel from her hands. “About that,” he said, hanging the towel back on the rack. “I thought we should offer you the job.”
“What?” She must have heard him wrong. Blinking, she stared at him.
“Honestly, the last year before Mr. Jenkins retired you were doing most of the work.”
“But Logan…” she swallowed the large lump in her throat. “I can’t do all he did.”
“Neither did Mr. Jenkins,” Mr. Summers said to stave off any further argument. “We used to contract out those bigger jobs.”
Rogue looked at him doubtfully, “I don’t know.”
“It can be on a trial basis, though I’m confident you will have no problems getting up to speed.”
“Trial basis,” she mumbled peering into the bedroom. It would give her just a little more time where the happiest moments of her life had taken place. She nodded absently thinking it over.
“Great! I had some students leave boxes and a rolling cart at your room. Let me know when you need help.” He gave her a smile that said the matter was settled. “I’ll leave you to plan.”
“Scott,” she called as he walked out of the bedroom with her empty breakfast tray in hand. It was the first time she’d called him by his first name even though they’d been allowed to since joining the team after graduation. It felt a little odd, but he was no longer Mr. Summers her teacher, he’d made that transition to her friend.
“Yeah,” he glanced back over his shoulder.
“Thanks… for everything,” she said with the first smile she’d had in weeks.
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