~oOo~
Rogue sat in a small clearing next to the creek that ran through the mansion's property. It was her favorite place to be. The sound of the running water helped her to focus on something else other than the torrent of thoughts and voices bombarding her mind. There were days when she practically crawled into Xavier's office, begging for him to do anything to silence them all. But Carol had always been a fighter in life and she certainly wasn't going to be silent in death.
You bitch.
"Stop it."
You murdered me.
Rogue stood up, the all too familiar tears filling her eyes again. Her hands flew to the sides of her head and she pressed at her temples, vainly hoping that this time she could silence Carol Danvers.
"I know! I know what I did! I'm sorry, I can't take it back!"
Die.
Rogue stumbled to and fro, crying and feeling like that scared seventeen year old girl huddled in the back of Logan's camper, praying she wouldn't be found. Praying she could go back home and be safe in her own bed.
"I want to die, Carol. Don't you know that? I don't want to live with what I did to you."
Her sobs were coming hard and fast now. She was so tired of crying. So tired of feeling the weight of guilt every day.
Fight her, kid.
That voice. The one she tried to ignore whenever it surfaced. The cadence of the wolverine's words caressed her mind. They wound their way up from the dark place in her subconscious where all her mutations and powers resided.
"Go away."
You need me.
"Fuck you."
You know I can help.
She slumped against a tree, her face cradled in her hands.
"I can't do this."
You can.
She was about so respond when her senses alerted her to someone coming. The footsteps were heavy and the smell wafting on the warm spring wind made her gasp. Rogue stood up and turned, knowing he'd found her. In only a few more moments, he emerged from behind a large tree and stopped, staring as if he was seeing her for the first time.
"Logan."
"Marie."
Her bitter laughter echoed through the trees. She took a step forward and put her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side.
"It isn't Marie anymore, Logan."
"Don't play at bein' a badass, Marie, it doesn't suit you."
"And what the flying fuck do you know what suits me, Logan? You've been gone for five years without so much as a word or a goddamn postcard. So don't stroll out here pretending to be the protector you so spectacularly failed to be."
Pain flashed over his face and, for an instant, Rogue felt the satisfaction of hurting him as much as he'd hurt her. But that gratification didn't last long and her gaze fell to the ground, not wanting him to see the shame and anger in her eyes.
His voice was soft and apologetic.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well we're all sorry for something, aren't we?"
He stepped towards her and she caught his scent again. Musky and dark, the smell of his sadness tinged with…desire? Oh, that was the fucking definition of ironic.
"Look, Logan, you're back and that's just peachy freaking keen, I'm sure. But things have changed. As you may have noticed, I'm not a girl anymore and I don't need you rescuing me again. Just go away."
"I know you ain't a girl anymore, darlin'. I just want to help you."
"I don't need your help."
He could smell her rage and underlying fear. She was like a frightened animal; skittish and ready to flee. He stopped where he was and held out his hands as if in surrender.
"Fine. Look, I just wanted to see you. Find out how you were. They filled me in on…" He didn't know how to finish.
Her face grew dark with anger. He knew. Of course he knew, they wouldn't hide something like that from him.
"Filled you in on what? The incident?" Her fingers made quotation marks in the air, punctuating the sarcastic words flowing out of her clenched jaws.
"That's what they call it, you know. 'The incident'. As if they can't bring themselves to say what it was. Murder. I'm a murderer now, Logan. Guess we have more in common now, huh?"
"You aren't a murderer, Marie. They attacked you."
She turned from him and that joyless laugh filled the air once again. "God, Logan, don't you think I've heard all this before? The Professor, Ororo, Scott? They've all told me the same shit over and over. It wasn't my fault. I was tricked. Whatever. The bottom line is that I killed another person, Logan. And now she's in my head. Every fucking minute of every fucking day. She knows what I am. She knows…."
The unexpected sob broke through on her last word. She almost collapsed forward. Logan could sense it and moved to catch her, but just as suddenly, Rogue stood straight up, looked him in the eye and put her hand out in front of her.
"No. I don't deserve sympathy Logan. I don't deserve to live."
His mouth opened to speak but before he could, Marie bolted straight up through the trees and took off into the sky. He continued to look upwards, watching the large branches move lazily in the breeze.
Logan sighed, the words floating from his mouth as lightly as the leaves gently riding through the air.
"Marie."
~oOo~
An hour after his confrontation with Marie in the woods, Logan had finished unpacking the last of his meager belongings and sat down on his bed. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and ran his hands through his hair. He'd been completely unprepared for what had happened to Marie while he was gone and he had no idea what to do to help. Rogue's scent held no trace of her previous affection for him. She seemed to genuinely hate him.
He shifted on the bed and looked at the black opera gloves sitting on the nightstand. He chided himself for being such an asshole. Here he'd brought her back a gift she didn't even need anymore. Just goes to show how little he knew her, if he ever knew her at all.
"I thought I recognized those surly brainwaves."
Logan looked up and saw Jean standing in the doorway, her arms folded and her right hip shifted to the side.
"Hey, Jeannie."
"So, you back to stay or are you just stopping off for a while?"
He stood and picked up the small box of perfume he'd picked out for her. Funny, at the time he'd chosen this gift, he couldn't help but picture her naked, dabbing the aromatic liquid behind her ears seductively. Now, as he looked at her, the lust and desire that overwhelmed him in the past was completely absent.
"I'm stayin'. Here, got this for you."
She held out her hand and took the box while a sly smile played across her face. Jean took a few steps forward and opened it, taking the bottle out and inspecting it carefully.
"You have good taste, Logan." Her eyes found his. "You've always had good taste."
The wave of pheromones wafted through the room as she shifted her hips again. To his utter shock, he could feel the wolverine inside of him actually recoil from her. It was acting the same way a dog would react to danger; raising its hackles and growling.
"Yeah, well, I ain't good at most things, but the gal at the counter said this was good stuff."
"I missed you, Logan." Her left hand moved to his chest and he stepped backward.
"You still with Scott?"
She stopped advancing but looked deeply into his eyes. "Scott and I are…taking a break." This time, along with the increase in her scent, he felt a tingle in his head. She was trying to get into his mind. He took her by the arms and stepped her backwards.
"The fuck, Jean? You tryin' to get in my head?"
"Why are you so shy all of a sudden? Five years ago, you would have had me pinned on that bed the minute I walked through that door."
Jean stepped forward again and whispered in his ear. "Now there's nothing stopping you."
Logan shook his head, still holding her arms and walked her to the door.
"I don't like being played, Jean. Stay the hell out of my head."
Her face fell immediately and her eyes became dark and hateful. "Don't push me, Logan. You might not like what happens."
"I'll take my chances."
Jean turned quickly and walked out the door. He listened as the sound of her heels gradually faded away. She was right. Five years ago, if he'd gotten the chance, he would have had her six ways from Sunday all over his room. Now, the only thought that came to mind was that he wished it was Marie standing in that doorway.
~oOo~
At the same time as Jean and Logan's conversation in his room, Rogue stood in the kitchen, putting together a sandwich from the previous day's leftovers. Seemed she was always hungry lately. Apparently, being able to fly and rip doors off handles gives one an enhanced metabolism. She chuckled lightly to herself.
"I like hearing you laugh again Rogue."
Scott came through the doors and joined her at the counter. Her hair was windswept and, through the red haze of his glasses, he could tell she was flushed from being outside.
She returned his gaze and smiled. "Yeah, well, I've decided to take a break from being the tortured, angst ridden 'incident' survivor for a few minutes."
"Don't, Rogue."
Rogue took her sandwich, beer and chips to the table as she spoke. "Sorry, sorry. I know you don't like it when I talk about myself like that."
"No, honestly, I hate it."
Her mouth full, she looked up at him in surprise. Scott had always been the firm and steady X-Men leader but in the past several months, he'd become more willing to loosen up, have a good time and say what he was thinking. But he'd never really been confrontational or talked with her about 'the incident' despite the fact that he seemed to always be around, helping or supporting her when she was having a rough go of it. For the second time that day, she felt like a total bitch.
"I'm sorry, Scott." She said through a mouthful of turkey and bread.
He shook his head and sat down across from her. With the glare of the setting sun on his glasses, she could see the outline of his eyes beneath the ruby lenses. He had beautiful eyes.
"You don't have to apologize to me. I just don't like to hear you talking down about yourself. I don't think I would have been nearly as strong as you if I'd had to go through the same thing."
"You're wrong, Scott. You're a natural leader. You have a determination that very few people have."
Scott leaned forward and placed his hand over hers. "Rogue, the strength you've shown in the last year has been amazing. You'll get through this. We'll help you, okay? Just don't give up."
She never got tired of being able to feel someone else's skin against hers. Moving her fingers, she laced hers together with his and looked back up at Scott's face.
"I'm really trying, Scott. But I think Carol and the others might be winning."
His grip tightened and his jawline flexed. "No. We're not going to let that happen."
Rogue smiled wanly and her eyes trailed across the details of his face. "Let's hope the Professor has some more tricks up his sleeve, huh?"
"He does. He has to. Maybe Jean could help too. She's become much more powerful…"
"No."
"But, why…if it could help…"
"Not just no, but fucking hell no, Scott. I don't want her poking around in my head."
"Alright."
"I'm serious."
"I know. It's fine, Rogue. Whatever you want."
She took a breath and calmed herself. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"For always being there. For being a friend when I needed one."
"Always. I'll always be there for you."
As she looked into his eyes, she recognized something she hadn't seen before. There was a tenderness, a sadness and longing that permeated his face. The last time she'd seen Scott look that way was after the team thought Jean died saving them at Alkali Lake. Rogue let go of Scott's hand and sat back slowly.
"Scott."
The sound of laughing children filled the hallway.
"Hey, Miss Rogue! Great game this afternoon!"
Like the flick of a light switch, Rogue was the bubbly, confident young teacher again. She stood up, taking her half eaten sandwich to the counter.
"You too, Frank. But next time, try and work harder at not exploding the water balloons over my head."
The boy giggled and waved as he went out the patio door.
"Got it! Later!"
"Later, Frank."
She turned around to say something to Scott but his chair was empty.
~oOo~
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