Scott wasn’t sure what made him look toward the front door. He was on his way to his next classroom – early of course – walking across the foyer with a thick stack of papers in his hands, when he suddenly stopped and turned his head. It couldn’t have been that he caught something in his peripheral vision – he didn’t have any to speak of because of his visor. Even looking directly toward the door, though, it took him a few seconds to understand what he was seeing.
Rogue stood there silently, one hand twisted behind her gripping the doorknob and supporting her weight. Her breathing was slow and shallow, almost as if she were sleeping, and her eyes were sweeping the foyer restlessly without stopping or focusing on anything.
There was blood all over the lower half of her face and the front of her shirt.
Despite wanting to throw his papers to the ground and run over to Rogue, Scott forced himself to move slowly and calmly. She looked like she was in shock and he knew that it wouldn’t be safe to startle her, not with the training Logan had given her. Training he had forced on her, really, if truth be told.
As he moved closer, her eyes fixed on him steadily although she showed no other reaction. Scott stooped down slowly and put his stack of papers on the floor as close to the wall as he could manage. When he straightened up, he slowly lifted his hands to grasp Rogue’s upper arms.
“Rogue.” There was no response. He jostled her arms a bit as he called her name again. “Rogue.”
“S-Scott?”
“Rogue, what happened?” He could hear the brittle tone of concern beneath each of his carefully enunciated words as he tried to hold the rising panic back.
“Ah…Ah went to school.” Her voice was so soft he almost couldn’t hear her.
“Yes, I know that much. What happened after that?”
“They were waitin’ fer me when Ah got there. ‘Cept Ah didn’t notice ‘em at first.” Rogue’s voice was getting stronger now.
“Who? Who was waiting for you, Rogue? Was it the Brotherhood?”
“No.” She shook her head. “No, not the Brotherhood. It was the students.”
“What?” Scott breathed. He straightened up abruptly and tightened his grip on her upper arms. Rogue winced, and he forced himself to relax his hold and take a deep breath. “Rogue. Did you use your mutation on anyone?” His voice was sharper than he had intended.
She shook her head. “No, Ah got away usin’ some moves Logan taught me.” Her eyes widened and she grabbed at his arms, mirroring his position. “Scott, Logan’ll kill ‘em. Ah gotta get this blood washed off!” She let go of his arms and scrubbed her hands over her face, trying to wipe the drying blood away. As she looked down to check what state her clothes were in, her hair fell forward over her face. “Oh Lord…it’s in mah hair. Scott, it’s in mah hair. Even if Ah wash it out, he’s gonna be able to smell it.” Her hands dropped limply to her sides and her head drooped forward, her bloody hair once again tumbling across her face.
Unbeknownst to him, Scott’s right eyebrow quirked up much like Logan’s would. His sense of smell is that good?
“Scott, what time is it?” Rogue’s voice was suddenly tired.
“Almost noon. Why?”
Rogue sighed before answering. “Then Logan’s gonna be back soon. Ah don’t know how long Ah was standin’ here ‘fore ya came by.”
“What? You mean you didn’t just get back?”
Rogue shook her head slowly. “No. Ah remember not bein’ able to find the garage door opener in the car, so Ah just parked the car outside and came in the front door. But then Ah realized that all the students have classes, and Ah didn’t want to walk around all bloody and scare ‘em.”
“What about the professor? You could have called out to him.”
“Ah tried.” Rogue gave him a sheepish grin. “But mah thoughts were racin’ around so much that Ah couldn’t concentrate enough.”
Scott nodded. “Well, I called him. He wants us to meet him in his office, and Hank’s going to bring some things up from the med lab to take a look at you.” He kept his grip on one of Rogue’s arms and started walking her across the foyer.
“Scott?”
“Hmm?”
“Can ya make sure Hank brings me a wet washcloth or somethin’ too, so Ah can clean up a bit?” Her tone was rueful. “Logan’s gonna know somethin’ happened, but at least Ah don’t have to look like Bloody Mary when he gets here.”
Scott nodded. “Sure, Rogue.”
* * *
Hank had actually cleaned her face for her. “I have to be able to see where the blood is coming from, and I don’t want you to reopen any wounds by scrubbing at your skin, my dear,” he had explained in his low rumble. She didn’t bother telling him that she had already started her cuts and scrapes bleeding again when she had rubbed at her face in the foyer.
Scott had left only long enough to retrieve his papers and instruct his students to use their class time as a study hall, and to inform Ororo of what was going on. At Xavier’s suggestion, she was holding class as usual. The students were used to one of their teachers occasionally having to take care of something during classes, but they had long ago learned that when more than one of them disappeared, something bad had happened. Or was going to happen. And one thing could always be counted on at Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters: the children talked.
* * *
Logan was amused to see the small car Rogue had been driving that morning parked out front. She had often joked about leaving a car out for a quick getaway when the constant hustle and bustle of bodies at Xavier’s became too much for her. Figuring that she was as eager for their lunchtime outing as he was, he thought nothing of it as he started to pull the red Chevy pickup up to the garage, various carpentry supplies and 2x4s rattling around in the truck’s bed. And then he saw the shattered driver’s side window.
“What the fuck?” he roared, and slammed on the brakes. He threw the truck into park and cut the engine almost simultaneously and swung his door open so hard that the hinges creaked. He was up the front steps and through the door less than three seconds later. “Where is she?” Logan demanded of the small knot of students whispering in the foyer. They stared at him. He popped his claws and pointed a tightly knotted fist at the kids.
“Rogue?” they squeaked as a group.
“Where is she?” he growled again, aware that the students always knew what was going on at Xavier’s, despite the fact that everybody pretended otherwise. He had always viewed the students’ gossiping nature with secret amusement until the morning Rogue was seen leaving his room before classes. That had been the morning after the “drinking incident” with Scott, and while it had been completely innocent, Xavier had still read him the riot act since Rogue had been a student at the time. Ever since then, he had referred to the students as a junior spy network.
He was hoping that the network was still up and running as he glared at the kids. They remained silent, clutching at their books, until he growled again. One of the kids, braver than the rest, raised a trembling arm to point toward Xavier’s office door. No longer having any interest in them, Logan ran down the length of the hall and burst into the professor’s office. Everybody turned to look at him, and their general lack of surprise at his appearance calmed him somewhat. Until he saw Rogue.
Logan quickly took the four steps required to reach her, pushing Hank’s hands away from her face and shouldering the man out of his way as he dropped to his knees in front of her. He didn’t notice the crowd of students peering through the still open door, nor did he notice when Scott shooed them away and pulled the door closed again. Nobody spoke as Logan retracted his claws and raised his hands up to cup Rogue’s face. He turned her face slightly toward the warm sunlight streaming in through the tall windows behind Xavier’s desk and took in her scratched and already bruising cheekbone, her split lip, and the pink tinge to her white streaked bangs. Inhaling deeply, he smelled blood. Hers and two others, but some of it was fresh. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and pulled apart the blanket draped around her.
Logan hissed as he saw her blood soaked shirt. Most of it, he could tell, wasn’t hers, but the scent of fresh blood had grown stronger. He reached for the hem of her shirt and started to lift it upwards.
“Logan! What are ya doin’?” Rogue batted ineffectually at his hands. From the corner of his eye, he saw Scott frowning as he took a step toward them.
“Scott.” Xavier stopped the man with a shake of his head.
Logan ignored Rogue’s struggling and continued what he was doing, stopping only when he could see the scar on her ribs. Rogue gasped as his hands shifted, his knuckles brushing the undersides of her breasts as he pressed his left thumb against the trickle of blood seeping from one end of the mostly healed wound. Logan stiffened, worried that he had caused her more pain. When he lifted his eyes to her face, though, he saw that her eyes had darkened and she was breathing in soft little pants through slightly parted lips. The hands that had only short moments before been fighting against him now gripped his wrists and held him in place.
His nostrils flared as he caught the faintest scent of arousal. What the hell? he thought in surprise. She picks now off all times to show an interest in me? Logan released a low rumbling growl from his chest as he swept his thumb soothingly across Rogue’s ribs. The growl cut off abruptly as her breath hitched and her eyes darkened further. It means she’s all right, though he realized with desperate relief, and as much as I’d like to take her up on what her eyes are offerin’… his thought trailed off.
What’s wrong with takin’ her up on it? Wolverine was beginning to stir in the depths of his consciousness.
It’s just an instinctive response, Logan returned. Lord knows I get horny as hell after bein’ in a fight. He shoved the Wolverine back forcibly and ended that line of thought. He released his hold on Rogue’s shirt hem so he could pull his hands away, forcing her to let go of his wrists.
When he turned to Hank, he caught the man scenting the air, his eyes fixed on Rogue and a predatory look on his face. Logan loosed a full-throated growl, startling the men in the room into looking at him. The professor and Scott appeared confused at his sudden aggression toward Hank, but Logan knew that the doctor understood as human awareness began to return to his eyes.
“Hey, Furball,” he snarled, “I can trust you to take care of her ribs, can’t I?” Logan felt smug satisfaction as the flaring of anger in the otherwise gentle man’s eyes told him that Hank had heard the dual challenge and warning in his words. Without taking his eyes off Logan’s, Hank lowered his furry blue head in a slow nod.
Giving his own nod in reply, Logan shifted to Rogue’s left side, placing one of his hands on the side of her neck to keep her head turned toward him. He used his free hand to sweep the bottom of her shirt back up, his forearm blocking any accidental – Or deliberate the Wolverine snarled in his mind – contact that Hank might have with her breasts as he tended to the freshly opened wound.
“It should be fine with a butterfly bandage,” Hank murmured to no one in particular as he swabbed Rogue’s ribs with antiseptic. “No need for re-suturing.”
“Tell me what happened, darlin’,” Logan said quietly, seeming to ignore everybody else in the room, but surreptitiously keeping a close eye on Hank.
Rogue lifted her arms up and clasped them overtop the arm he had across her ribs, the fingers of her left hand threading through his where they rested high up on her right side.
“It was Monique. She found out about me somehow.”
“Fuck it all!” Logan snarled. “I’m gonna gut that little bitch!” He felt a surge of approval from Wolverine.
“Logan!” Xavier admonished. Whether it was in response to Logan’s swearing or the threat against the human girl wasn’t clear.
Logan turned on the man. Every muscle in his body was tensed, but his hold on Rogue remained gentle. “I don’t even want to hear anythin’ from you!” he roared. “This is your fault,” he accused Xavier. “She must have found out when she was here on Saturday. You’re a fuckin’ telepath, so why the hell didn’t you know about it?”
Logan felt no remorse when his words brought a stunned and sickened look to the professor’s face. The man exchanged a look with Scott but remained silent.
“Well?” Logan demanded.
“Logan, you can’t begin to know how much I regret what happened to Rogue today,” Xavier began.
Logan snorted. “Spare me the sentimental bullshit, Wheels, and give me a straight answer before I decide to gut you instead!”
Three things happened at once. Hank jerked away in surprise, Scott straightened away from the wall and balled his hands into fists, and a hard smack landed against the side of Logan’s head.
He whipped around in anger and shock. “What the hell’d you hit me for?” he asked Rogue disbelievingly. He was momentarily distracted by the way her rapid breathing caused her breasts to rub against his arm.
“Don’t ya dare go threatenin’ our family, Logan!” she snarled, her accent thicker in her anger than he had ever heard it before. “It’s mah own stupid fault for not payin’ attention when Ah pulled into the parkin’ lot.”
“Who said these idiots are my family?” he snarled back.
“Ah can’t believe you!” Rogue shrieked, flinging his arm away from her and jerking back from the hand still gripping the side of her neck. The room’s other occupants watched in silent amazement. “Ah know ya consider the professor and everybody else here yer family, Logan, and just ‘cause ye’re scared o’ what might’ve happened doesn’t mean ya can start insultin’ ‘em.”
Logan stood abruptly and snapped his fists down to his sides, his claws springing free. “Who the hell said I’m scared?” Some part of him recognized the defensiveness of the question, and that was all the reason the Wolverine needed to swarm up to the front of his consciousness.
You know you’re scared, he growled. The thought of losin’ her has you shakin’ like a whipped little boy. And do you know why you’re takin’ it out on Chuck? It’s because you don’t want to admit that if she had died today, we would never have the chance to make her ours the way we want to.
The insidious whispering faded away as Logan became aware of the sharp little finger poking him in the chest. His anger increased when he realized that Rogue was so unthreatened by his unsheathed claws that she was actually backing him across the room. He hadn’t been paying attention to the litany of insults she was spewing at him while he was absorbed in his inner monologue – Can it really be considered a monologue? he mused absently – but he tuned in now just in time to catch “…and Ah don’t care how scared ya were; it doesn’t excuse yer rudeness to the professor!” The back of his legs collided with Xavier’s desk and he sat down on it heavily, an involuntary oof escaping, and damn it all, now Scooter was snickering at him. His annoyed growl was cut short by a hard jab to his breastbone that actually had him wincing, and he focused once more on Rogue’s furious and beautiful, albeit bruised, face. “And did ya even consider, ya selfish jackass, while ya were indulgin’ in yer self-righteous accusations, that Ah’m scared too and maybe Ah just need ya to hold me?” Her eyes were bright with restrained tears. “Bastard!” she exclaimed vehemently, and poked his chest again for emphasis.
As Rogue’s lower lip trembled almost imperceptibly, Logan’s anger evaporated. He retracted his claws and covered her assaulting hand with his own. She immediately tried to tug it back, a mutinous look on her face. Logan refused to let go, though, and wrapped his other hand around her hip to try to draw her closer. Rogue pushed stubbornly against his shoulder with her free hand as she continued to struggle silently against Logan’s hold.
“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he murmured. She stilled. He tugged at her hip and this time she came willingly, stopping with her thighs against the front edge of the desk. Logan’s long legs bracketed her hips and he slid his hand up her back to rub slow circles between her shoulder blades. “You’re right,” he continued, holding her watery gaze with his. “I was out of line, and I’m sorry.”
Rogue tugged again at her trapped hand and this time he let it go. She wrapped both arms around his shoulders and leaned forward to snuggle her face into the warm crook of his neck. Logan cupped the back of her head and continued to rub her back soothingly with his other hand.
“‘S’all right,” she mumbled against his neck. “It’s not me ya owe the apology to, though.”
Logan sighed heavily. Without releasing Rogue or making any attempt to turn toward the man, Logan said, “I’m sorry, Chuck. I know none of this is your fault and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“Apology accepted, Logan,” the professor said warmly. “I understand completely.”
Rogue straightened away from Logan and beamed at him. For some reason, it made him feel like he was a child receiving his mother’s forgiveness after a scolding. Feeling thoroughly unmanned, he scowled at her.
Rogue arched a brow at him, the smile still on her face. “Now what’s got ya grumpy, sugar?”
Logan’s scowl deepened. He didn’t want to share his most recent thought; it would undoubtedly send Scott into gales of laughter. So he dropped his gaze and plucked at the front of her long-sleeved pale pink shirt, offering the first excuse that came to mind. “They ruined your favorite shirt, darlin’.”
Well shit. Scooter’s laughin’ anyway, he groused.
A sudden sniffle brought his attention back to Rogue’s face. She was gazing down at her bloodstained shirtfront sadly, her eyes filling again as she ran her fingers over the fluffy grey kitten with its nose upraised to smell a once bright yellow daffodil. The tears finally spilled over and ran down her cheeks.
“Aw, shit, darlin’,” Logan groaned, feeling like a cad.
Good goin’, you stupid ass, Wolverine growled. Now you’ve made our girl cry.
Shaddup, Logan snarled back and offered up the ultimate sacrifice to try and make it right. “We’ll get you cleaned up and then I’ll take you to the mall and buy you a new one, all right, darlin’?” He hoped the department store where he had bought the shirt almost a year ago for her birthday still had them in stock.
Rogue lifted her head and cast him a wan little smile. “Thanks for the offer, sugar, but Ah like this one.” Xavier’s “ahem” saved Logan from having to respond. It also, thankfully, made Scott stop snickering.
“I owe you an apology, Rogue,” the professor said. “And an explanation as well.” He nodded at Logan.
“Professor, no—” Rogue began.
“But I do,” he insisted firmly, cutting Rogue off. “I am afraid that the reason I missed this danger to Rogue is absolutely inexcusable.” Logan’s sudden attention made Xavier slightly uncomfortable, but he continued anyway. “I was deliberately shielding myself Saturday afternoon because of a headache.” He waited for Logan’s tirade, knowing that it would be completely justified.
To his surprise, Logan just grunted softly before turning back to face Rogue.
“Come on, darlin’,” he said. “You need a shower.” He looked at Hank and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Unless she needs more fixin’ up, doc?”
Hank shook his head. “No, not right now.” He shifted his attention to Rogue to address her directly. “Let me know if the cut inside your lip keeps bleeding; it might need stitches if it does. I would estimate approximately another hour before it stops, and you should avoid salty and acidic foods for at least three days. They won’t delay the wound from healing, but they would naturally cause a great deal of pain.” He shrugged his massive shoulders before continuing with the medical rundown. “Your bruises will continue to darken over the next several days, and will probably take two to three weeks to fade completely.” Hank paused again when Logan growled softly. “The butterfly bandage on your side should remain dry and clean for the next two to three days, and you should keep the scrape on your cheekbone covered – and no makeup until it’s healed. I’ll give you an antibiotic ointment for that and your split lip.”
Logan and Rogue both nodded. “Right. We’re done in here for now then,” he said. When Scott look like he wanted to protest, Logan shot him a quelling glance. The younger man frowned and looked past him to Xavier for direction. When the professor shook his head, Scott’s frown deepened and he crossed his arms over his chest, but he did step away from the doorway.
Slinging his arm carefully around her shoulders, Logan steered Rogue toward the door. He glanced down at her and saw that she was biting her injured lip, a worried look in her eyes. Reaching up, Logan gently tugged her lip away from her teeth with one callused finger.
“What’s the matter, darlin’?” he asked, soft enough that only she, and perhaps Beast, could hear.
“We need to talk about somethin’, Logan,” Rogue whispered. She slipped out from under his arm and opened the office door. Reaching back without looking, she snagged one of Logan’s hands in hers and tugged him through the door.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
And here we see Logan's reaction - all furious and bent on revenge as expected. Be warned, though, that things take an unexpected (although believable, I hope) turn. :)
Chapter End Notes:
In the next chapter, Rogue tells Logan what's on her mind.