re·prise

noun

1. In music, a return to an original theme.

verb

2. To repeat an earlier role.

Rogue's breathing is soft and even as she lies next to me, tucked into my side.  I lift my head to look down at her; she has drifted off to sleep mid-sentence.  With a little smile, I pull the covers up over her shoulder and gently kiss her forehead. 

We spent the day holed up in my room after my talk with Carol.  Still feeling a little raw from the rollercoaster we just went on, neither of us felt like going anywhere after that. We made a nest of blankets on my bed and enjoyed several hours of simply being in each other's arms.

As we curled up in bed together, she spoke of simple things; fond memories of gardening with her grandmother; finding a new book in the Professor's library; Jubilee being a goofball.  But even though she spoke of pleasant things, I could see in her eyes that there was so much more just below the surface, just waiting to be let out.

It's tough watching her as she struggles with herself internally, trying so hard to just let go and open up to me.  I wonder if it will always be like this.  I guess the only thing I can do is keep trying to give her all the time and patience I can.

As much as Rogue keeps a tight rein on herself during the day, the night time is a different story.  She talks in her sleep quite a bit, and that is when little things slip through. 

I can't remember the last time she has slept without having nightmares.  Lately, though, they seem to be getting worse. Sometimes she'll call out; other times I hear little snippets of her talking to someone.  But often, there are just...whispered words of despair, and the scent of sorrow.  Those are the times that break my heart the most.

I wish I could have been there for her.  I wish I could have known her back then, because I would never have let any of this happen to her.

My conversation with Carol has had my mind turning over with so many questions.  How did it happen?  How did Rogue end up at Weapon X?  Where did things go wrong in this life?

Did she try to hitch hike her way to Anchorage like she did the first time around?  Maybe she tried, but the timing was wrong and that's why our paths never crossed until now.  Maybe she made it to Laughlin City, but there was no grizzled mutant cage fighter with a trailer to hide in.  Maybe she had to find someone else to give her a ride, and they saw a hungry, desperate girl all alone, and took advantage of her...

Dark thoughts of all the things that might have happened start swirling in my head, all the ways that someone could have hurt her.  My fists clench and before I realize it a growl rises in my chest.

"Logan?" Rogue mumbles, peering up at me with sleepy eyes.

Shit.  "Sorry, baby." I kiss her forehead.  "It's nothing; go back to sleep."  She snuggles closer, sighing softly as she drifts off again.

I take a deep breath and try to calm down so I don't disturb her again.  I try not to let all the maybes and what ifs get me all worked up when I don't have the facts.  Maybe it wasn't all that bad, I try to tell myself...but deep down, I know that whatever happened, good or bad, she still ended up at Weapon X.

. . .

. . .

I'm under water.  Cold water illuminated by a sickly green light, bubbling all around me.  My entire body is strapped down and I can't move at all.  There is no escape.  Rage and helplessness and fear are coursing through my veins as I struggle, watching the needles descend upon me.  No!

I can see a masked face, distorted through the rippling surface of the water, hovering over me; a searing pain rips through every part of my body, and I scream in agony.

My claws fly out and I spring up with a thunderous roar, savagely stabbing him through the chest.  A girl screams, and I look around to see where the sound came from.  What is happening?  Then I look at the masked man again...but it's not him that's impaled on my claws.  It's Rogue.

No. God, no.  Not again.  Not again. 

"Baby, I...I'm so sorry..." I stutter, my voice trembling.

I wait for the awful sound of her choking as her lungs fill with blood.

"Use your powers," I urge her, my voice thick with desperation. 

No, she shakes her head.

"Take my healing, baby...please," I beg her, falling to my knees.  "Please, baby--turn it on and take it all..."

Slowly, she reaches her hand out, her fingertips hovering a hair's breadth from my cheek.  I close my eyes, waiting for her delicate touch, for the pull to take my life so that she can live.  I wait for the pull...but it doesn't come.  Instead, I hear a hushed voice, whispering words of comfort.

"Shhh...it's ok, Logan.  Everything's going to be ok."

I open my eyes and blink a few times.  "Rogue?"

She gazes down at me with soft brown eyes, making soothing sounds as she caresses my face.  "It's ok, Logan," she whispers.

"Did I hurt you?" I choke out, frantically feeling her body for wounds. 

"I'm ok, sugar.  You can't hurt me--"

"Oh, God..." My heart nearly jumps out of my chest when I notice her nightshirt, which has three ugly slashes ripped into it.  I lift her shirt in a panic, looking for the stab wounds, searching for the blood.  There's nothing there but smooth skin.

"You didn't hurt me.  See?"  She takes off her nightshirt and places her hand over mine, sweeping our fingers over her chest and belly.  "Invulnerable skin, remember?  Don't you worry about me, I'm just fine."

I look up at her, searching her face.  Where am I?  Which timeline?

Slowly, I get my bearings, and it finally begins to dawn on me; she's ok.  We're in the new timeline...I had a nightmare...Rogue is ok....

I throw my arms around her in a crushing embrace and bury my face in her belly, inhaling her scent deeply as I tremble with relief.

Rogue begins caressing my shoulders and back.

"It's ok, Logan," she murmurs into my hair.  "Everything is going to be ok..."

My breathing slows down and my body begins to relax.  And then I'm suddenly aware of something.   Everything about this is so...familiar; it's like déja vu.  The nightmare.  Waking up in a cold sweat, claws slashing through the air.  And Rogue, unafraid, whispering words of comfort...the same words she used to say to me in the old life.  All those times that she came to my room when I was having a nightmare...

Shhh...it's ok, Logan.  Everything is going to be ok.

You shouldn't be here.

Don't you worry about me, sugar.  I'm just fine.  Want to talk about it?

No.

I'm always here if you need me.

All the times she came to my room...and all the times I let her go.

I pull back and look up at her face.  The same face, the same soft voice, the same gentle touch...the same look in her eyes.

"Please don't tell me to go, Logan," she whispers.

She has the same look in her eyes, only this time, I'm not afraid to put a name to this thing between us.  This time, I don't have to let her go back to her room.  She's here, and I'm not letting her go.

"Don't go, Marie," I say to her.  "Don't ever go."

Her lips part, drawing in the slightest breath, her eyes locked with mine.

"Somehow...I feel like I've been waiting so long for you to say that."

"I feel like I've been waiting so long to say it."

We stare into each other's eyes for a moment...and in that moment, which seems like an eternity, something passes between us.  Something that feels like floating in some kind of space between past and present.

And then suddenly, it's like there is an unstoppable, inevitable force drawing us together.  Our mouths crash together in a hungry, desperate kiss.  It feels like coming home.

Our hands are instantly everywhere, all over each other's bodies, touching, feeling, taking in everything as if we only just now discovered each other and need to make up for lost time.

I stand up and draw her body tightly to mine, ravaging her mouth, my hand coming up to tangle in her hair.  She gasps as I release her lips and move to her throat, then her collarbone, kissing, scenting, marking.  I can't get enough.  I can't get close enough.

I rip off her panties as she tears at my pants and then we tumble backwards onto the bed.  Within moments she is straddling me, and then I feel her, hot and slick, as she sinks down on my cock with a moan.

She closes her eyes and her head falls back as she rolls her hips, her breasts swaying with the motion.  My hands find their way to the curve of her waist, then down to cup her ass.  She leans forward onto my chest, holding my face as she starts kissing me again.  I wrap both arms tightly around her back like an adamantium cage, bucking my hips, eating her moans as I slide in and out of her body.

I'm wrapped around her, I'm inside her, and it's still not enough.

"Logan," she whispers.  "Please...I need you on top.  I need to feel you like that."

I kiss her once more, then roll her over until she is underneath me.  I drive into her, all the way to the hilt, and she gasps in pleasure.  Burying my face in the curve of her neck, I can only mumble her name incoherently while I continue thrusting.  Marie...Marie... She wraps her arms around my neck and hooks her ankles behind my back, clinging to me, as if she can't get close enough, either.

My senses are overwhelmed with her scent, the feel of her soft body underneath and all around me.  Neither of us can stop the frantic, desperate pace threatening to burn our bodies to ash.  Her arms and legs tighten and she cries out my name as she climaxes.  With one last hard thrust, I'm dragged down into oblivion with her, a thousand points of light sparking behind my closed eyes as I fill her.

We lay there for several minutes, our cooling bodies still entangled, slowly catching our breaths.  I still don't want to let go, and neither does she.

"I'm sorry," I murmur.  "I wanted to go slower the first time, darlin'.  Take my time, make love to you...but I couldn't help myself."

I wanted to go slow your first time, an unbidden thought whispers somewhere in my mind.  And even though it doesn't make sense, the thought is there.  Not the first time after the bet, or the first time tonight.  *Your* first time.    

"I know, sugar."  She softly traces her fingers over my back.  "I couldn't help myself, either.  But fast or slow, rough or gentle, it doesn't matter.  It's us, and I have no regrets."

My throat tightens when I hear her words.  I lift my head up to see her face....and she still has the same look in her eyes.  The look.  The one that I saw all those times and didn't want to understand, couldn't understand.  Only this time, I didn't let her go.  

And once again, I feel like I'm floating in that strange space between past and present.  This is how it should have been in the old life, my mind whispers.  Her, understanding and accepting me, all of me...and in her eyes, offering her love.  Me, understanding what she was offering, and accepting it.

If I could go back and relive those moments, I would have done things differently.  Maybe, on some level, that's what we were doing just now--reliving those moments.  Making up for lost time.  Righting some of the wrongs.

I know that she doesn't remember anything from the old life, but still...I swear it was like she could feel it, too.  Is that crazy?

Maybe.  Probably.  I don't know...as I look into her eyes, all I know is that I love her, and I will take any opportunity I can this time to show her that.

Slowly, I lower my head and kiss her softly, sensually, taking my time to taste and savor her.  Her eyes open in surprise and she pulls back from the kiss.

"Logan, are you...ready again?" she asks.

I give her a little grin.  "Healing factor, darlin'."

"Oh...my, that's handy," she smiles, blushing.

"First time was fast and strong, like we both needed it," I say to her.  "Now, we're gonna take our time, making love the way we wanted to."

"Ok," she whispers, gazing into my eyes.  "Make love to me the way you wanted to, Logan."

. . .

. . .