“Now, I searched high and low for this,” said Rogue, procuring a beer bottle out of her dressing gown and passing it towards Logan. The pair were sat inside the solitary confinement room, with the rules that only Rogue could go inside to visit him. That suited both of them just fine. Logan had since been rewired up to the steadily beeping machines besides him, and was propped up on his bed pillows. Rogue sat perched on the edge of the bed besides him, crutches leaning against the wall besides the headboard.
Taking the beer, Logan eyed it. “Let me guess, the Professor don’t know about this being a part of my medical diet.” There was a telltale smirk on Rogue’s lips that answered his question. It earned a soft chuckle as Logan uncapped the bottle with a casual push of his thumb against the metal lid. Soon enough he was drinking it heartily. It had been too long since he’d had a beer. “You been feelin’ any better?” he asked.
It had been a week since they had returned to the mansion, and Rogue’s wounds were healing over slowly. She was certainly in a lot less pain than she had been, but that was thanks to painkillers. “Better,” she assured and was rewarded with a relieved smile from Logan. He had been fretting over her injuries, since he had caused the majority of them, and he wanted to ensure she was healed over. But, there was no denying some of the deeper injurers were going to leave scars upon her skin.
“And what about you?” she asked in return, leaning over to affectionately stroke her fingers through his thick hair.
Logan fell silent to enjoy the attention before he finally murmured. “A lot better when you’re around.”
“Good job I don’t plan on leavin’ anytime soon then, ain’t it sugar?” Logan had to do a double take towards her when her felt her chest push against his side a little. The plush lilac opening of the gown had been apparently slackened – for his benefit.
“What are you up to?” asked Logan, swigging back some more of the beer.
Rogue continued to leisurely drift her fingers through his brown hair, proximity of her body very close to his. “Nothin’,” she said innocently, but proceeded to lift her legs onto the bed, cast and all.
“Now, I don’t think that’s true, is it?” Logan replied, lowering his head to hers and nuzzling her for a moment. He chanced a glance at the glass that separated him from the rest of the laboratory. There was no one inside, so he dipped his head a little lower to steal a brief kiss from his lips. She giggled in apparent delight, but didn’t seem to be sated by his affections.
Logan almost spit his next mouthful of beer all over the bed because Rogue found that moment ideal to hook her non-injured leg over hips. Hastily swallowing the beverage, Logan looked towards her only to see a coy smile weaved all over her lips.
“Marie..” he said quietly, chiding her a little.
“What? There’s no one around,” replied Rogue, displaying Logan one of her most flirtatious smiles.
“What’s got into you today?” mused Logan, placing his bottle down on the table besides his bed.
Rogue shrugged her shoulders slowly. “I miss being with you, that’s all.”
“You’re with me now.”
“I know,” she reasoned softly, leaning over so she could meet his lips again.
Logan eased into it gently, free hands now able to slowly wrap around his waist and hold her to him. It was impossible to reject her when it was clear she was in the mood for some affection. He may have been wrapped around her little finger sometimes, but he didn’t complain. How could he when he was being treated to a very amorous kiss and rather adventurous hands? His own were getting a little itchy at their modest hold against her back and soon his fingers were creeping downward to explore the soft shape of her behind.
“Y’know,” he managed to mumble out against her lips. “I’m kinda all wired up to a machine and you have a pot on your leg. Not ideal circumstances.”
“Mm, but I have nothin’ on underneath this dressin’ gown,” Rogue replied, smiling up at him mischievously.
Logan stared down at her in silence, apparently stunned by the revelation. It didn’t take long for him to close the gap between their lips and ravage her mouth once more. It didn’t seem like that dressing gown was going to remain on much longer. Both of their hands were ardently roaming each other now; kiss deeply sealed with a passionate frolic of lips and tongues. Logan couldn’t help but let a small groan escape his mouth as Rogue teased his lower lip with a drag of her teeth, head moving to explore his jaw and throat with soft, travelling kisses.
There was a faint hum of the parting laboratory doors, followed by the ringing sounds of falling footsteps. Logan heard it first and the pair ensued in a mad scramble to retain some decency. As Jean Grey reached the glass window, she looked in to see Rogue sat by his side once more, though admittedly flushed. She glanced between them for a moment, perplexed. Rogue pulled her dressing gown a little tighter across her chest, eyes anywhere but Jean, whilst Logan tried to discreetly gather the bedcovers across his lap. Blinking a little, Jean turned to pick up the folder she had come for, smiling awkwardly at the pair. She tapped her watch in indication to Rogue that it was getting late before she turned and departed with the retreating echo of her heels on the metal floor.
“I think she noticed the beer.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A crystalline blue sky stretched out above the lawns of Xavier’s mansion, bringing with it warm rays of sunshine. Across the school, windows were thrown open in a bid to tempt a non-existent breeze. At one of the windows stood Rogue, gazing out over the grounds of pristine green lawns and flamboyantly colourful flowerbeds. Weeks had passed and a few days ago she had been allowed to leave the infirmary. Logan, on the other hand, was still kept in for observation, though Rogue knew he was well on the mend. She inhaled the sweet scent of the air as she stood leaning on the window ledge, enjoying the serenity of the day. It was a very different story to what it was all those weeks ago. Now, her leg was free of the cast, but she still used a crutch to help her get about. Her intake of painkillers had dropped considerably, now only taken for her fractured leg. The cuts, bruises and scrapes had all but gone from her flesh, with only discoloured glistening skin a reminder of what was once there.
For once, Rogue could actually say, in full confidence, that she was happy. Both her and Logan were finally getting back on their feet, the mansion was back to its former glory after the raid, and even the X-Men seemed to be going out on less emergency calls.
Turning back towards her room, Rogue limped towards her bed, sitting down on the edge heavily. Her leg remained sore, though Jean had leant a helping hand in its healing process with telekinetic aid. Eyes lazily scanning the room, she felt everything that had come together begin to fall apart. Hooked absently on the wall was a calendar not of her choosing, the month displaying a lurid flower collection. It was then, with the sickening feeling of nerves filling her gut, did she realise one huge fundamental factor that she had easily forgotten about during both the troubling events and subsequent recovery.
Now matter how many times her eyes ran along the calendar in anxious calculation, it was glaringly obvious. Her period was late. Her hands slowly rested upon her cheeks as she stared right through the calendar, a manta of ‘oh my God’ was currently running around her head at a frantic rate.
She reached round to grab her crutches so she could hurriedly depart from her room. She wasn’t wasting any time now.
It was agonising to sit there, staring at the clock as she waited. She also felt ridiculously old all of a sudden. She was eighteen, and here she was, sat alone anxiously awaiting the results of the pregnancy test. Rogue had quickly made her way to the infirmary to help herself to items in the medicine cabinet. Luckily, she hadn’t been seen by anyone. She didn’t want to experience an awkward moment like that, especially if she wasn’t even pregnant anyway. But, what if she was?
She felt her gut writhe nervously. She was torn in two minds about this and wondered if this was how women often felt. Part of her was terrified to the very core at the prospect of receiving a confirmation that she was indeed pregnant, with Logan’s child no less, whilst the other was silently excited and instinctively curious for a family orientated future. Exhaling a sigh, she stood to her feet, one hand clasping her crutch as she eased herself over to the window to try and calm her anxiety with the gently scented air. Her other hand maintained a grip on the plastic instrument. She couldn’t even bear to watch the clock anymore.
She had already made a resolute decision that if the test was indeed negative, she wouldn’t divulge it to Logan. It felt like a foolish, foolish mistake from an eighteen-year-old girl and not one she wanted to share with him. But on the other hand, if it was positive..
Eyes nervously checked the clock again before looking back out of the window. She couldn’t summon the courage to even chance a glance at the test until the time was definitely breached. However, nothing could have prepared her for her bedroom opening without even a knock. Her head whipped round to stare at the entrant, lower lip hung ajar as Logan stuck his head around the door with a smile spread across his face like he was giving her a treat. “Hey, kid.”
“L-Logan? You’re out? You never said..”
“I got discharged. I wanted to surprise you,” he replied, making his way in. It didn’t take long to read into the stunned expression across her face, eyes dropping to the bed before him to see the unmistakable packaging of the test that she clutched feverishly in her hand. “Marie?” he said weakly, eyes slowly dragging off the cardboard box and onto her face.
She was staring at him, just as he was at her. She couldn’t find words though she desperately wanted to say something. She needed to say something. “Logan..” That was all she could manage.
The telltale signs were approaching. That apprehensive flicker in his eyes, a hand rising to unnecessarily run a hand through his hair. He was becoming increasingly anxious, more and more fearful. Rogue half-expected him to turn and run out of her room. She wouldn’t have blamed him either.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered weakly.
“Sorry?” he repeated with a chuckle that held zero humour. “Christ, that’s somethin’ to be sorry about. No, no.. you shouldn’t be sorry.” He let out a rough sigh, bringing his hands to his face, rubbing it anxiously. “Jesus,” he whispered momentarily. “I’ve been so stupid..”
Rogue was staring at him. “What?”
“You’re eighteen years old,” he muttered; now beginning to shake his head wearily. “You’re way too young for this.”
“Logan..” she began warningly, but he cut over her.
“Marie, you’re just a kid!” Logan cried, a hand raking through his hair again to repeat that same anxious trail. “Oh, Jesus Christ, what have I done?” he turned from her now, leaning a hand on the doorframe as he shook his head to himself, eyes closed.
Determined to not allow herself to become upset, Rogue fixated a sharp glare on the back of his head. “Don’t you dare bring that up again,” she said in a furious whisper, the tremble of which betrayed her bid to keep her tears at bay. “We both knew what we wanted, Logan.”
“The last time I looked, it didn’t involve a kid!” Logan snapped, harsher than intended. At Rogue’s stung silence, he slowly looked over his shoulder, sudden guilt plaguing him.
“Don’t blame all this on me!” exclaimed Rogue in a fierce hiss of breath, narrowed eyes locked upon him.
Logan shook his head, “I’m not. It’s my fault; it’s all my fault. I’ve been so god damn stupid! Stupid!” His hand slammed against the doorframe fiercely, sending a resounding thump throughout the room.
“Oh, don’t be such a martyr, Logan, it doesn’t suit you,” said Rogue sharply.
“You actually gonna tell me what the thing says or have I gotta keep assumin’ the worst?”
Rogue had forgotten about the plastic stick that lay in her sweaty palm and the returning sensation of tangled nerves returned to mingle with her bubbling anger. Shakily, she brought the test up to her line of sight, managing to confirm in a hollow whisper. “Positive.”
By the time she had looked up, Logan was gone.
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