Author's Chapter Notes:
Warning: Smut and hints of abuse
This is the last chapter that is based on the movies. I had to re-watch X3 for this, so you’d better be grateful. You’ll get some answers, but no closure. Sorry, not sorry. In case you forgot, ‘Internal dialogue’ and flashbacks denoted thusly.
“Suck it up, girl,” Logan grunted, “Suck down every damn drop!”

His fiery hazel gaze met the girl’s chocolate doe eyes. She nodded slightly while trying not to choke on his cock. Seeing her acquiesce sent him over the edge and he came with a roar. He grabbed her head with both hands and forced himself as far down her throat as possible while spilling his seed. He was barely cognizant of her coughing and sputtering for air as he released her.

She sat back on the bed, swallowing hard while trying not to audibly cough.

He leaned back contentedly and smirked at the girl. “Come here, darlin’.”

She moved with feline grace up the bed, coming to rest beside the feral man. His eyes slightly darkened as he ran his thumb across her lower lip, wiping a small speck of himself off her. “You missed some,” he said dangerously.

She smiled shyly and blushed. He chuckled lightly at her coyness. He pulled her closer and she rested her head on his chest. He smiled as she breathed out a contented sigh. They stayed like that for several minutes, but Logan’s smile slowly faded as he looked down at the girl.
Finally, he spoke, but in a quiet, concerned voice that initially startled the girl. “You’re what, nineteen now?”
She stared at him in mild shock. “Yeah. But you knew that Logan.”

“I know but. . .” he grew increasingly frustrated about how to broach the subject. “Ya don’t look nineteen. You don’t look a day over fifteen, ta be honest.”

“So?” She responded gently, wary of invoking his ire. “Fifteen and nineteen ain’t that far apart. What’s four years to you?”

He tensed at the subtle accusation, “Four years ain’t much when you’re talking about thirty-five and thirty-nine. But for you it’s fucking eons.”

“I guess I’m just slow to develop,” she muttered, biting her lip.

“It ain’t that.” He rose from the bed, his agitation more apparent, “You’ve barely grown at all in the last few years. And fuck knows I feed you enough.”

She sat on the bed looking at him as he began to pace, unsure of what to do, of what to say. So she stayed still, still chewing her lip.

He stopped pacing and gave her an enigmatic look. “Darlin’ is it possible that you’re keeping some of those gifts that you take from me? I mean, has your sense of smell been getting better since you’ve been touching me? Something like that?”

Her face dropped, realizing exactly what he was asking her. “I don’t know Logan. If I’m keeping anything from the times I touch you with my powers, I’m not exactly aware of it. I mean, except for that initial burst. Maybe it’s been happening slowly, and I just haven’t been able to notice.” She was afraid to meet his eyes, to see the recrimination she knew was bound to be there.

Head hung low, she watched his bare legs as they approached her. He grasped her chin and pulled it up to look at him. The look in his eyes that she formerly found enigmatic was suddenly readable, it was just not a look she had ever seen on him: remorse. “Anna. I’m sorry. I never wanted this for you.”

Tears were filling her eyes, but whether it was because of what he was insinuating or that he was truly repentant was unclear even to her. “So,” she squeaked, “I’ll never grow up?” She felt some of the tears fall down her cheek.
He knelt in front of her, never breaking eye contact. “I do age, darlin’, just real slow. So if you took that from me, it’ll be the same for you.”

She sniffed and took a deep breath, “Will you still want me?”

His mouth hung open for a moment, then he spoke with uncharacteristic sincerity. “Always. I’ll always want you. I’ll always be there for you. I promise.”

Rogue vacantly looked at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair. Lost in memory and sadness, she was still amazed at how young she still looked. She was perpetually grateful that her false romance with Iceman would not move on to another level due to her mutation, otherwise she would have felt like a pedophile. She might be able to pass for a nineteen-year-old, but she rarely felt like one.

Pulling back her hair into a high ponytail, she wandered down to the lower levels of the Xavier Institute, and stepped into the changing room. She smiled at the leather cat-suit that was waiting there for her, made to fit her like a glove. She slipped into the binding, yet flattering uniform and made her way to the Danger Room. Colossus, Iceman, Storm, and Wolverine were all waiting there. Wolverine muttered something under his breath about girls always taking forever to get dressed, when Kitty bounded in and they started their training session.
The Post-Apocalyptic landscape that sprouted out of the Danger Room’s hologramatic computer quickly separated the junior members, leaving each one to cope individually. Rogue sighed bitterly, frustrated that even in this relative seclusion, she was unable to utilize all her powers. She stealthily moved between bombed-out buildings and fire-damaged cars, finding her way to Colossus. Her natural mutation was only as useful as the mutants who surrounded her, and Piotr’s metallic flesh was a far more appealing defense than anything that Bobby or Kitty could offer. And she didn’t really mind having him in her head. Unlike the other mutants at Xavier’s, Piotr was utterly unpretentious and blatantly honest. Having him in her head for those few minutes after she’d absorbed him was like having a friend over for tea, unlike her normal experience with unwillingly absorbing people, which was the psychic equivalent to getting into a bare-fist fight in a biker bar. Which, even in real life, did not rate highly in her experiences.

Throughout the Danger Room session, Rogue kept sneaking glances at Logan. He was cool under pressure, as always. ‘Some things never change. He’ll never let anyone see him sweat.’ The simulated battle was not going well, and the two senior X-Men members were managing to have a tet-a-tet about it. Rogue could only gaze longingly at the pair. Storm and Wolverine were well matched. Both were smart, brave, and dedicated.

‘Only a matter of time before they wind up together,’ she ruminating, wishing with every fiber of her being that she didn’t care. But she did. And she always would.

It was at that moment she decided that she had to find a way out of this life, away from the X-Men. She liked it in the mansion, and she was happy to be around Logan again, but if she had to see him falling in love with another woman again . . . It would break what little resolve she had left.

She just needed an exit strategy.

He put down the heavy phone. She looked at him expectantly, but he didn’t look at her. “I gotta go for a few days, darlin’.”


“I have to work,” he said, walking back to the bedroom.

She followed him in. “Stop calling it ‘work’ like I don’t know what that means. You know how it pisses me off when you treat me like a child.”

He let out an audible sigh while pulling out his canvas duffle bag. “It ain’t like that, it’s just that I don’t want you involved.”

He moved over to the dresser, and opened his shirt drawer. She stomped over and shut it. His eyes snapped to hers, anger clouding them. She wondered if it was just the reflection of the anger in her own eyes.

“You’re in my head! You’re my mate or lover or whatever. I am involved. Do you really want me to pretend that that side of you doesn’t exist?”
“Wish it didn’t,” he muttered, still angry, but apparently now with himself.

She rolled her eyes, “Shit, Logan. After everything? You’d think that I’d care about you taking out someone who actually deserved it?”

Rogue hadn’t meant to make it sound like an accusation, but his slight flinch made it clear that was how he took it. No matter how badly he took it, she couldn’t be made to feel bad for him. He’d made his choices, and he had to live with them. But he also had to live with her.

“Let me go with you,” she said softly.


“I—I’d like to know what it’s like.”

He searched her face. “I thought you knew already.”

“No, this is different. How am I supposed to share a life with you if I don’t know this side of you firsthand?”

Logan rumbled, “Ya ain’t gonna like it, Anna.”

She gave him a weak smile. “I don’t like a lot of things that you’ve done, or that I’ve done, but I’m stronger for it, right?”

He just nodded. “We leave in thirty minutes.”

She didn’t mean to bite Bobby’s head off, but her frustration was growing by the minute. He seemed to accept that the problem was with their relationship, which it was in a strange way, but not the “can’t touch my boyfriend” way in which she claimed. The problem is that they both wanted to be with other people.

She flopped down on the common room couch, hoping to cool down. What she got instead was her way out.

“Is it true, they can cure us?” She burst into Xavier’s study unannounced.

The Professor confirmed it, Wolverine gave one of his patented enigmatic looks, but it was Storm that was adamant. “They can’t cure us. You want to know why? Because there’s nothing to cure. Nothing’s wrong with you.”

Rogue knew there was a reason she liked Storm. But the woman was wrong, there was plenty wrong with her, it was just not with her mutation.

Rogue picked at the decaying black upholstery on the seat of the Ford Model AA.

“Quit it, Anna Marie,” Logan complained, lit cigar clenched in his teeth.

She let out an overly dramatic sigh, “Well, if you’d talk to me. Tell me what the assignment is.”

He grunted and nodded to his suitcase on the cab floor, “The manila folder.”

After rifling through his belongings, she managed to find the folder. She read and re-read the contents, trying to feel something other than anger and disgust.

“He—he doesn’t really do that, does he?”

Logan tapped the ash of his cigar out of the truck, “Yep. Not why we’re killing him, though. He pissed off one too many loan sharks.”

“But they’re kids,” she eeked.

“Yeah,” he replied darkly. “And so are you.”

Rogue was hidden away in her room during the drama. Jean came back, but she wasn’t the caring, loyal, heroic Dr. Jean Grey that she remembered and was resentful of. No, this was super-bitch Jean, who now went by the name of Phoenix. She killed Cyclops, tried to seduce Wolverine, blasted her way out of the school, then killed the Professor. She would get hers, and Rogue just hoped that she wasn’t around to see it, because she knew her gloating would give her away.

The funeral for Xaiver turned her stomach – to be killed by someone who you just wanted to help seemed like the ultimate betrayal. And while Rogue recognized that the Professor was less than perfect, he had a good heart. She sat in the front row, clad in black, with Bobby by her side. She saw Logan there, out of the corner of her eye. Not clad in black. Not officially mourning, although she knew he was. He was mourning the loss of a man who saw the best for him, and mourning once again for the loss of the woman he loved.

Rogue was the first to put a rose on the Professor’s grave. She was thankful for him, if nothing else, for reminding her that there were truly good intentioned people out there. It gave her a renewed faith in humanity, or mutanity, if that was a word. But his death marked the end of her time there.

Seeing Bobby and Kitty enjoying themselves that evening, ice skating like the sweet teenage couple they were destined to be, was the last straw. Rogue may not have actually been in love with Iceman, but her heart had been damaged too much lately, she really couldn’t deal with the humiliation of being dumped.

She hoped to make a clean escape, but Logan was there in the hallway as she left with her overnight bag. When he asked her what she was doing, in his subtly caring way.

All she could come up with was, “you don’t know what it’s like be afraid of your powers, to be afraid to get close to anybody.”

“Yeah, I do.”

‘Shit. Of course he does. Okay, different angle.’ “I want to be able to touch people, Logan. A hug, a handshake, a kiss.”

“I hope you’re not doing this for some boy.”

‘No, I’m doing this for you, you big lummox.’

“Look, if you want to go, then go. Just be sure it’s what you want.”

He let her go, all the same. She wasn’t sure if she should feel offended that he didn’t try and be protective by making her stay, or be honored that he gave her the credit to make up her own mind.

‘Always an enigma, that one.’

The dilapidated, rusted-out warehouse stood in sharp contrast to the calm blue-grey waters of Lake Superior. She pulled her eyes away from the peaceful lake and watched the play of silhouettes through the windows of the warehouse. A chill came over her, only partly due to the foggy air that nipped at her face.

Rogue heaved a sigh of relief as Logan’s form came toward her.

“What did you see?” She whispered to him when he was several yards away.

“Looks like they’re about ready for a shift change,” he said coldly, coming up to her and wrapping his burly arms around her small body. “I think they won’t even notice. The man doesn’t hire quality lackies.”

“And where does one find high-quality lackies these days?” Rogue snidely asked.

“Madripoor, Jersey, Moscow. . .” He replied seriously. “Fuck, Chicago ain’t that far away—” He looked down at her to see her sly smile. “Funny. You going to do this or not?”

Rogue nodded and pried herself out of his arms. Taking off her heavy winter coat and baring only her simple, worn woolen dress, she turned to him. “Do I look alright?”

He swallowed. “Good enough to commit a felony for.”

“I’ll yell if there’s trouble.”

“Damn right you will.”

She steeled herself as she walked cautiously down to the one ajar door of the warehouse. Poking her head through, she noted that the hired help was indeed sub-par. ‘Yeah boys, don’t mind me, just keep on playing your little card game.’ She sneaked past the goons with surprising ease, and came up to the other inhabitants of the warehouse. A sun-burnt blond girl in her late teens was apparently on guard while the others slept. She looked curiously at Rogue, who placed a finger over her mouth. The blond got the message and was quiet, allowing Rogue to mix in with the other children.

There she waited and watched.

It had been an excuse, a way of escaping the mansion once and for all. But as she stood there in the line for the cure, she began to doubt herself.

‘Why not do it? I’m already here, I’ve got nothing to lose. And if my mutation was gone, the voices would never butt in, I’d never be a target again, I’d lose all of the ‘gifts’ I borrowed from Logan. I’d have a normal, mortal life. One lifetime, to live as I choose.’

Her breath caught at the thought of it. A Choice. The one thing she’d never been given.

Rogue glanced down the line in front of her, then behind. So many mutants, most without glaring mutations, but some certainly stood out from normal humans. There was one young boy, probably no older than fifteen, with green, scaly skin, which was being poorly concealed by baggy sweats and a hoodie. A formidable middle-aged Latino woman, presumably his mother, stood beside him, holding the boy’s hand.

‘Choice. The one thing he was never given – the one thing I was never given. The ability to opt-out of being a mutant and all that entails. So, Anna Marie,’ she asked herself, ‘who do you choose to be?’

“I can choose for myself, Logan!”

He crossed his arms and looked at her condescendingly.

“Oh, fuck you!” She yelled.

“Anytime, anywhere.” He responded with a slight smirk.
She saw red. Sprinting up to him, she looked him dead in the eye and poked him in the chest. “Don’t you dare pull that cocky shit with me, James Howlett. You seem to forget – I got you in my head. I know you need me as much – no – more than I need you.”

The smug look on his face disappeared and he paled slightly.

“Darlin’, don’t,” he said, almost pleading.

“Then let me do this,” she requested, the animal inside her still roaring to go. “I was the one down in there. I know their set-up. I saw—” her breath hitched, “I saw what they did to those kids. Please, let me do this.”

He let out a deep sigh, “I don’t want you to be a killer, Anna.”

“So it’s okay for you, but not for me?”


“That’s bullshit.”

“No it ain’t. I don’t want you to end up like me.”

“But I already am. You’re a part of me.”

His hazel eyes looked over her sadly. He gave her a slight nod, held out the rifle to her, and she took it. They walked silently together, his arm around her shoulder. Once they were in the warehouse, they split up. Rogue heard a muffled yelp followed by a sharp crack from Logan’s direction. She stealthily climbed the stairs to the tiny office. She heard a girl’s sobbing, and a deep male voice.

‘I can do this, I can do this. Lord knows that piece of shit has it coming.’

Her foot descended on the door full force, and it caved like the rotten wood it was. The oily, pudgy, middle-age man was sat on the other side seemed to just gaze in shock at the young girl holding a rifle to his head.
Suddenly, he leaned over, towards the pistol sitting on the desk, and Rogue took the shot.

Perfect head-shot. An extra bullet through the heart to be certain. She expected to feel something – anything – but she didn’t. And then she walked away from the girl sitting on the office floor whose tears of pain had turned to tears of joy.

Rogue watched the carnage at Alcatraz unfold on the diner’s television. She felt strangely numb, knowing that so many people she knew and cared for were there, and more than likely some of them wouldn’t be making it back. She told herself she wasn’t being callous, she was just used to death. ‘Death, yes. Loosing someone I give a damn about is the tricky part.’

She arrived back at the mansion before the X-Men’s return. Placing away her gloves, she wandered the mansion anxiously until she heard the whir of the jet’s engines.

Sitting peacefully on her pseudo-boyfriend’s bed, she wished the numbness would return as hesitancy set in. Bobby walked in, looking far older than his true age.

“You’re back,” stated Bobby, with a tinge of disappointment.

“I’m sorry, I had to.” She explained.

“This isn’t what I wanted.”

“I know. It’s what I wanted.”

She held out her bare hand, and he hesitantly took it. Once again, they were having two separate conversations, that just happened to be occurring at the same time.

“Lie back, darlin’.”

She nervously obliged, trying to calm herself.

She saw his brows furrow. “You know I ain’t gonna hurt you,” he said with more than a hint of anger.

“Yeah, I know,” she said meekly. She looked him over quickly, recognizing that even in her frightened state, she couldn’t help but be intensely aroused by his naked form over hers. “I know you wouldn’t want ta hurt me, Logan, but I’ve seen inside your head.” She gently brought her hand up to touch his brow, “And I know that he doesn’t care if he hurts me or not. Just so long as he claims me.”

To her intense disappointment, his look of frustration did not dissipate. “That’s why I waited. Till I knew I could be in total control.”

Gazing up at the hazel eyes that she’d grown to love, she recognized his sincerity, but still feared the Wolverine’s interference. She bit her lip nervously, which made a wicked smile appear on his face.

“Those lips taste good, baby?”

She blushed and gave a tiny chuckle, which only ended when his lips claimed hers.

She pulled him to her, letting her small form cradle his brawny body. His kisses moved down her face, to her neck. Giggling slightly when he hit the ticklish spot right above her collar bone, she sank into the feelings of contentment and pleasure he was giving her.

Without being conscious of it, she found herself grinding herself against him, eager to get some friction that would ease her growing desire. He let his lips go down to her nipple, sucking it into his mouth, while he mirrored her movements.

Feeling his hardness rubbing against her clit, she moaned aloud. “Now, Logan. Please.”

He growled in response and positioned himself against her virgin opening. Looking up at her for one last acknowledgement, she could only hope she was reciprocating the love she saw in his eyes.

He quickly sank into her. She let out a small squeak of pain, but the sensation was gone almost as soon as it began. In its place, a feeling of intense fullness filled her.

“You know what this means, right?” Logan’s voice barely more than a growl as he slowly shifted inside her.
She gasped at the new sensation, but managed to nod her head in response to his question. He slowly pulled out, and then in again, to further gasps.

“You’re mine.”

She moaned as he started to increase his speed. “All yours,” she mewed.

He began pumping in and out of her in earnest, and while there was some lingering pain, she couldn’t help but feel euphoric. Her sweat mixed with his as they both panted and hissed in a primal language all its own. His thrusts became more erratic, and his fingers dug painfully into shoulders.

“You’re mine. Forever.” Punctuating the last word with one last, extremely deep thrust, he growled and came inside her.

Gasping for breath, Anna Marie whispered, “Forever.”

“So you’re really leaving, then?”

She wished that there had been some indication in his voice as to his opinion on her decision. But there was nothing. She was walking out of his life forever, and he sounded like he was just making conversation. She turned to look at him.

“Ah can’t stay, Logan. This is a place for mutants. Ah ain’t one now, an’ no one will let me forget it.”
He took at couple steps towards her, but stopped several feet from the main door. She tightly gripped the doorknob, practically steadying herself with it. He looked at her long and deep.

“Ok. If that’s what you got to do.”

“Ah think it’s for the best,” she said. She wanted to say more, but her inability to keep the lump in her throat at bay stopped her.

He simply nodded at her, “You better call me, tell me where you end up. I’ll worry about you.”

She plastered on her best fake smile, “Ya don’t have ta worry ‘bout me, Logan. Ah can take care of myself. Ah leaned from the best.”

“Call anyways.”

“Ah will.”

He nodded again, and walked back through the main hall, just as the tears started to roll down her face. She grabbed her bag and rushed out the door and away from Xavier’s. Away from the love of her life, and the lies she’d created.
Chapter End Notes:
If I were really and truly evil, I’d stop the story there. But the little angel on my shoulder won out, and there are two more chapters to this story. Reviews are greatly appreciated!
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