Rogue sat on a stone bench in a strange garden. It wasn’t one she remembered, although it might have been one from a stolen memory. In front of her was a bed of sand carefully raked into swirling patterns that she found soothing even though she couldn’t seem to find the end of one and the start of another. Large rocks occasionally made the patterns flow around them. It was the most relaxing thing she had ever seen, and Rogue let her nose fill with the dry, fresh air around her, the sound of the light wind gently caressing her ears even as she felt it brush the bare skin of her neck. She wore a simple white robe in a style she thought might be Japanese, which would probably explain the garden as well. She had seen pictures of gardens like this.
The crunch of a footstep on the loose gravel behind her caused Rogue to turn her head slightly so that she could glance out of the corner of her eye. Logan walked towards her, unhurried, his chest bare above the dark pants he wore. It seemed like here she could admire the muscles covered in smooth gleaming skin without the well of bitterness and rage which seemed to accompany the sight of him these days, so Rogue took advantage and drank in the sight. Logan stepped over to her and stood just behind the bench, his eyes focused on the sand instead of her. Rogue found that she didn’t mind, and she turned her own gaze back to the sand as well.
“It was never about you, Marie. It was never your fault. It was mine. I wasn’t ready,” he said softly. The atmosphere pushed down on them so that any louder voice would have been a shout.
Rogue thought she should be protesting. Wasn’t that what they all said? “It isn’t you. It’s me.” Only she thought that maybe, just maybe, in this case it was the truth. Logan had so many demons inside of him. Even her glimpses into his mind when she stole his powers to heal herself had never revealed all of him to her. Maybe he was still trying to figure himself out.
Even if that was the case…Rogue sighed. “You could have run, you know. Isn’t that what you do?” Well, maybe she could get a little of her own fire in, even there in that tranquil spot.
She felt more than saw his shrug. “I didn’t want to leave you, the school, any of it. I wanted to find out what I could have here. I was selfish. We can all be selfish sometimes, you know. I’m not perfect. I was trying to figure things out, and I took the easy way out instead of looking at what really mattered to me in the long run.”
“Did you have to hurt me in the process, Logan?” she asked, her fingers knotted together in her lap.
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t think you would ever find out. It should have been a one night stand, or at least a way to judge what I wanted out of the situation. I’m still a person, and I do have right to choose who I’ll be with, darlin’. We weren’t exactly dating, you know.” He actually sounded amused, and Rogue realized that all along she had only been thinking of how much she had wanted him and never if he wanted her just as badly.
There in that garden, and maybe only there, Rogue was able to admit that she had set out her priorities wrong all those months ago. Had she gone too fast in her pursuit of him, driven him to do things that he might not have otherwise? Could it be that he had done the same thing to Jean? Could she, Rogue, have started a domino effect that ruined four perfectly good lives? For what?
Happiness. That’s all she had ever wanted. Now she realized that she needed to want it for him, too, and for Scott and Storm and all her other friends. Maybe she even needed to want it for Jean. If that was her goal, even above her own happiness, could she undo the harm she had done?
“Ah’m sorry,” she said, a tear sliding down her cheek unnoticed.
Even though he was behind her, Logan seemed to know that the tear was there. He caught it with a brush of his finger against her skin, and then his whole hand cupped her cheek. Rogue allowed herself to lean into it, accepting the comfort he offered.
“I won’t say nothin’ to be sorry about. We both have things to be sorry about, I guess. But we can forgive each other. It doesn’t have to be just hatred forever between us. We were friends, once.”
Rogue reached up to place her bare hand over his. “Yes, we were,” she said as the sun slid below the edge of the stone wall surrounding the garden.
Rogue opened her eyes to darkness. At first she thrashed around, afraid that she was back in the little cell where she had been held, but the familiar smell of her room, vanilla and raspberry, soothed her even as she became aware of the slide of her silk sheets against her skin. Someone had stripped her down to her underwear and tucked her into bed, just the way she preferred with the end of her blanket tucked under her feet. It seemed to be the middle of the night since her white blinds would not have kept out the daylight for long. She sat up and ran a hand through her tousled hair.
The dream came back to her slowly but in excruciatingly vivid detail. What had she done? What had she allowed her anger to create inside of her, this well of poison that let her think, even for a moment, that the life of her child was a price worth paying to avoid contact with Logan? Rogue hoped that there was some way to fix the mess her mind had become. She was just afraid of what might fill the void that would be left if she let go over her anger, her hate and her pride.
Logan stared up into the darkness. Dawn would come soon, a new day that promised little different from most of his days lately. He wondered if he should care. Should he try to change things anymore? Would it be better if he just left?
A sound outside of his door caused him to tense. A footstep, then another, slowly approaching his room. There was caution, and then he caught her scent. He was sure she would pass by, so he told himself to relax. Only he couldn’t relax knowing that she was just on the other side of the thin wood panel.
Her footsteps stopped, and his head whipped around as he stared in disbelief. She had stopped on the other side of his door. He waited, wondering what she was doing. Was she going to attack him? Did she hate him so much?
The hesitant knock almost startled him. In an instant he was out of bed. He didn’t have to bother turning on a light to find clothes since his foot hit a pair of jeans crumpled on the floor. He jammed in first one foot, then the other. His hand fumbled with the zipper, but he was at least decent when he opened the door.
Rogue stood there staring up at him. Her green eyes were wide and glistened slightly, but she stood straight and proud in front of him. Green silk pajamas covered the skin that could be so deadly, but she might as well have been a queen for the way she held herself. He wasn’t sure what to say, but then he didn’t have to.
“Ah want to call a truce, Logan,” she said. One hand rose to settle over her stomach. “You saved me tonight, and you saved this child. Ah’ve been thinking about what happened, before, and…maybe Ah acted in ways Ah shouldn’t be too proud of, either.”
He could tell how much the words cost her by the way her eyes tightened just a little as she spoke. She meant the whole fiasco with Jean, didn’t she? The truth behind her words shone screamed at him through every sense. She honestly wanted to try to put the past behind them.
“Well?” she asked, snapping him out of the shock that had enveloped his brain.
Logan nodded slowly. “Alright. If that’s what you want, Rogue.”
She nodded firmly, almost as if she was convincing herself. “It’s what’s fair, and Ah owe you that now. Just…let’s try not to fuck up this time, okay?” She even smiled a little when she added the last bit.
Logan nodded. “Okay.”
“Well, Ah’m going back to bed now. Ah need my sleep. Good night, Logan,” she said quietly.
“Night, Rogue. Sleep well.” He began to turn back, his head still dazed by the past few moments.
“Marie.” The word was barely a whisper, but he caught it.
“What?” Could he have heard right? He searched the dimly lit hall, barely making out her shadowed form as she crept toward her room.
“Ah think Ah want my friends to call me Marie from now on.” Her door shut before he could say any more.
Logan closed his own door and leaned against it. He wasn’t sure exactly what had just happened. All he knew was that he had another chance. She was right, even if she didn’t know how much yet. He couldn’t afford to fuck up this time. It might be his last shot at what he now knew he wanted.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I hope you like this. I'm trying to move them along at a good pace towards...well, hopefully a better "place" for everyone overall, except maybe Jean.
Yeah, probably not Jean.
Yeah, probably not Jean.
Chapter End Notes:
What do you think? Too much, too soon? Not enough? How was the dream sequence? I'm always a bit iffy on if they're a good thing or not. Let me know!