Think about it.
The words repeated themselves over and over again in Logan’s mind. He couldn’t seem to stop the loop as he watched the woman, Rogue, he snorted to himself, walk away from him. His fingers twitched involuntarily as he thought of where she’d touched him, wanting to feel that imagined lingering warmth, even though it’d felt like fire lighting up his veins.
You helped us…we need you…we need you to help us here.
“Buncha bullshit.” Logan ground out roughly. No one needed him. If the last twenty-odd years had taught him anything, it was that nobody was lookin’ for him. Nobody needed him. Whatever man he’d been was dead. Whatever life he’d had was gone. He was better off on his own. Calling his own shots and living how he wanted.
And yet - and fuckin’ yet - somethin’ about that woman was gnawing at him. She’d had him between her teeth. Had a taste of him. Taken a look inside him to see what was lurkin’ there. And goddamn, but she’d liked it. Her scent hadn’t lied. He hadn’t been able to help himself from pushing her, just a little, to see exactly what this “other him” had gotten up to with her. She’d said that he’d trained her. But that uncomfortable shift of her body told him it’d been a helluva lot more than just training.
A low growl from deep inside the darkest parts of his mind nearly broke the surface and threatened to escape his throat. The animal wanted her. Badly. That clean citrusy scent was still lingering in the alley, despite the myriad of other pungent smells left there by the bar, and they both wanted more of it. He sniffed again wanting to take in more of her, and froze in his tracks as he suddenly caught the scent of what could only be another feral mutant. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he took it in, processed it. Acrid and sour. His eyes darted frantically to the shadows. Were they still here? The shadows appeared still and silent as he assessed the alley around him. But someone had been here. Watching them. Waiting. He wasn’t sure how he knew it, but nothin’ about this night had exactly been smooth, and it was just stupid to think that another feral mutant bein’ so close to the three of them was just a coincidence.
Logan sniffed again, trying to see if this asshole was still lurking, but the scent was dissipating rapidly. Whoever it had been, was gone. But Logan had the scent now. If he encountered the prick in the future, he’d know it.
“Fuck,” Logan muttered as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his thoughts turning back to the woman as he slowly relaxed. There were no easy answers. Just question after question. Any hint of a buzz from the whiskey he’d consumed in the bar was long gone. The only buzz he felt now was from the sound of her words, running together, making his mind hum with imagination. Think about it…you helped us…we need you…you trained me…Wolverine…I know that’s what you call him…Somethin’ is tellin’ you to stay…somethin’ you know is right…And just like that he’d been hooked. Couldn’t explain it, but there was somethin’ about her that spoke to him. And he wanted to hear more of what she had to say.
He kept Rogue’s words on repeat as he slowly paced out of the alley, and he found himself wanting to walk back to his apartment, rather than hitch a ride. It was late, but Tokyo was still humming with activity, and he found himself needing the incessant and never-ending noise of traffic and people to create a sort of white noise for his thoughts. What did she really want with him? Was it just training? What was the deal with the red-eyed Cajun? Logan couldn’t help but grin as he remembered the scent of Gambit’s anger as he’d baited him. The swamp rat had seemed protective, no, Logan corrected himself as he thought back on their interactions. Gumbo’d been jealous. Was there somethin’ between the two of them after all? He felt the animal’s anger at the thought and clenched his jaw to prevent a predatory growl from escaping his lips. There was no reason for him to feel so possessive of this woman. Except…
Except he did. It was irrational. Based on his instincts and nothin’ else. He didn’t like the idea of the swamp rat and Rogue together, and he tried to calm the animal down with the memory of their scents as he’d first noticed them. Separate. Distinct. No overlap. Still, did that mean that somethin’ wouldn’t happen between them, or hadn’t? He was annoyed at the lack of information and shook off the thought, trying to focus back on the offer that Rogue had left him with.
Logan’s stride picked up as he continued to turn things over in his mind. Again, he considered what leaving Japan would mean. The last six months had left him feeling colder, harder, and more without purpose than ever. His leads had run out, and those glimpses of his past told him he wouldn’t like what he found if he kept digging. He’d uncovered enough pain, bloodshed, and death to last him another three lifetimes. He’d seen what he was gonna see. Remember what he was gonna remember. This trip had been a last hope, if he could even go as far as callin’ it that. One last chance to seek out the life and family he mighta known. He was done with what this island had to offer, and it was time to get the hell off it, enticing offer from a strange-ass woman, or no.
Logan found himself back at his apartment with almost no recollection of his steps, though he had been conscious of a sense of peace and calm that descended on him as he neared his temporary home. He’d chosen a location in close proximity to a shinto shrine for a reason. He could sense the tranquility of that spot, and it spoke to the dark corners of his mind that longed for quiet. He punched in the code to the keypad, slipped off his boots, stepped inside and let out a deep sigh. The studio apartment was cleanly decorated in tones of creme and taupe, its modern simplicity a refreshing palate cleanser from the saturated tones of the Red Bar.
He strode over to the panel that hid the closet and slid it open, taking note of the precise location of his meager possessions. He would notice if someone had entered his room by scent alone, but the ritual of ensuring his space was unmolested was one he wouldn’t easily abandon.
Snorting as the worn and battered copy of The Call of the Wild caught his eye, he rubbed his hand over the worn and faded olive green cover. He didn’t even remember where he’d found it, but knew the book’d been with him for almost as long as he’d been…well, back. He frowned, realizing it must have been close to twenty, no - fuck, twenty-five years since he’d escaped. The animal let out a low whine tinged with wariness at this thought. Neither of them liked to remember those early days. There’d been no lines. Just a blur between animal and man, both lost in pain and need, confused and rage-filled at faceless men who haunted their every step and nightmare. Haunted. Hunted. He’d wandered for so long, tried so many different paths…when he’d found the book, it’d been his first real memory as himself. As Logan. As a man. The story had felt familiar somehow. And he didn’t know if it was because he’d read it before, or because he could relate to that damn dog.
He scoffed as he tossed the book onto the bed, and ran a hand through his hair. Before he knew it he was moving swiftly, gathering his clothes, Yashida’s sword, his tags…As he stuffed the last of his possessions into the worn gray duffel bag, Logan told himself again the woman wasn’t the reason he was leaving Japan. Coincidence? Sure. Cause? Fuck no.
Logan clenched his jaw hard and suppressed a deep rumble he felt building in his chest. None of the questions he’d asked himself held any answers. If the last twenty-odd years had taught him anything, it was to trust his gut. And right now his gut was screamin’ at him to follow her.
He ran one hand through his hair, exhaled sharply, and drew up the long silver zipper with a swift jerk of his hand. Logan reached into the front left pocket of his leather jacket and extracted the rumpled business card Rogue had placed there before leaving him in that stinking alley. He snorted as he read the name on the card, at the same time noticing the lingering traces of her scent on the stiff paper. Yeah. He’d follow her. Get his head on straight first, and then he’d see what Rogue and the other good people from Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters were up to before he made an appearance.
After all, he didn’t have much left to lose.
__________
Weeks passed since their trip to Japan, and still there was no sign of Logan. She’d been so sure he would take them up on their offer and decide to help them. Hell, who was she kidding? She’d been so sure he would want to help her. And yet, nothing. There were no phone calls, or unannounced visits to the mansion. The other Logan had been so sure too, and Rogue could feel the impression of his irritation grow as days passed with no word from this world’s Wolverine. She couldn’t help but to replay their last moments together over and over in her mind, deliberately focusing on his words, trying to force herself to the realization that he wasn’t coming, trying to show the other Logan how wrong he’d been.
There’s not a fuckin’ world out there where I wouldn’t want ya or do everythin’ I could to protect you.
Well apparently, she’d found one.
The Wolverine in her head had mostly absorbed the faint hit of Logan she’d taken in Japan, and kept insisting that he was comin’. That they weren’t all that different, and that he’d be here soon. But Rogue was tired of getting her hopes up. If he didn’t show up, her own personal feelings aside, then they were going to be in for a hell of a battle. She knew her abilities were nowhere near Logan’s level of proficiency at fighting. And there was only so much she could help with during their team training sessions. At first she’d tried to shove Logan’s inner personality away, to shut him and Wolverine off in a quiet corner of her mind, completely isolated from her own thoughts. But it never held at night, and her nightmares of a similar future found her reaching out to Logan more and more for his thoughts and advice. She knew he was worried. And that scared her.
As time passed, Rogue could feel a sense of dread rising. She could feel it, distinctly. It haunted her days and left her feeling restless and unable to sleep soundly. Every step she took found her less sure of her footing than the last as she waited for the inevitable collapse of the world she’d been born to. It was a black cloak, weighing her down as every day brought more and more fearful signs of what was to come.
Rogue wasn’t sure how she was supposed to just keep living, day in and day out, as the life and world she knew began to crumble beneath her feet. How could people just keep going to work? To school? Hell, how did they simply wake up every day without screaming into the void about how their way of life was coming to an end? Did they not see it? Did they not want to see it? Did they not care? What was wrong with everyone? Why wasn’t anybody doing something?
She was desperate to ask Charles if he had any news of the actual Logan’s whereabouts, and at the same time, she was terrified of what the answer would be. Unless Logan was outside the mansion when Charles tracked him down using Cerebro, then Rogue would have her answer. If he was still in Japan, then he was likely to stay there. But what if he was somewhere else now? That would just imply that he didn’t want to take the X-Men up on their offer. It would mean that he didn’t want or need anything from her, and that thought left her grimacing with the pain of that possibility. He wasn’t her Logan. But in some ways it had lightened her spirits to know that this Logan existed. It had made his loss slightly more bearable.
As the weeks passed, the mood inside the mansion had begun to change alongside the events of the outside world. The mansion had always been a haven, a safe place for mutants and those who supported them. But now there seemed to always be a palpable tension running through the students, staff, teachers, and X-Men.
At first, the recent attacks at movie theaters, grocery stores, schools, and concerts had all seemed to point to The Brotherhood as the culprits. The disregard for human life was apparent in the senseless number of deaths that had resulted, and they were the most logical choice for having caused the events. Though The Brotherhood had been mostly dormant in recent years, only occasionally causing disturbances, they were frequently on Charles’ radar, and they were always the first suspect when there was an assault on humans. But then the intel from the attacks came in. The Alpha team had done a sweep of the various sites after local investigators’ had finished their initial inquiries. It wasn’t The Brotherhood. It was people. Humans. Humans impersonating mutants. Rogue recalled the chill that had gone down her spine during the mission debrief as Scott told them the results of their site analysis. Chemical reagents had been identified by Hank and Kitty during their lab assays, and video surveillance analysis had shown the suspects were using technology-enhanced suits, not mutant abilities to cause the deaths of innocents. The words “Mutant Liberation Front” started to become more and more common in their briefings as the number of attacks increased. Additional surveillance of the F.O.H. facility the team had visited months earlier found their drills and activity increasing. Public opinion of mutants was plummeting with each deadly incident, and Rogue had a sinking feeling that her world wasn’t far behind that of the one she had left all those months ago.
The latest incident, The Park Massacre, as the news was dubbing it, was the most brutal event to date. The Alpha team had been scouting the MLF headquarters when it happened, and Rogue hadn’t been able to get the images from the news out of her head. The annual Founders Day Celebration at Fischer Park in Spring Hill, Tennessee was supposed to have been the perfect kickoff to summer. A day for families to enjoy food trucks, yard games, and live music. But instead, families had been destroyed, ripped apart by the attack. The MLF targeted the youngest and most vulnerable present, ensuring a savage end to such short lives.
One day.
The thought echoed in her mind continuously. She’d told Logan, hadn’t she? Told him that the only difference in their worlds, the only difference between them meeting and not meeting, was her decision to stay home with her family for one more day. And what did that one day matter in the arc of her world, her universe? Was she so significant to think that a single decision could have prevented such a disastrous future?
Initially, the public interest in reviving the Mutant Registration Act had been a shock to the X-Men. And then, as the attacks continued, and propaganda from the F.O.H inserted itself into every facet of daily life, it had seemed only inevitable. A number of states had begun to draft and pass legislation requiring notice and identification of mutants enrolled in public schools be sent to the human parents. Other states began to implement laws to prevent mutants from attending public schools altogether. Some groups protested the new laws, calling them uncivil, and a violation of rights. But mostly, public support seemed to agree with the identification and separation of mutants. They were being targeted, slowly and inexorably. One discriminating law at a time.
The results of the mid-terms that November had delivered another blow to mutants living in the United States. Those voted into Congressional offices were overwhelmingly associated with the Church of Humanity or the Friends of Humanity. As the following January saw those individuals sworn in, news of the disbanding of the Committee of Mutant Affairs swiftly followed. And still, the everyday public seemed to be oblivious as to the shift of power that was occurring right in front of them. They were blind to the descent into a religious oligarchy that threatened the lives of all people, not just mutants. They ate up the obvious propaganda with relish and cheered on the course of bigotry. And those on the side of mutants seemed oblivious to the danger they would be in. The apathy and passivity and ignorance from human sympathizers who did nothing would prove to be their own downfall. And there was nothing that Rogue or the X-Men could do to stop it.
The frequency of onslaught against human targets by the Mutant Liberation Front continued to increase, and there was a startling lack of options as to how to counteract the negative image that was now synonymous with mutants and their sympathizers. Rogue was perpetually torn between horror at the rapid events transpiring in front of her, and acceptance that it had all been inevitable. She’d seen this all before. The mass resignations of people in political offices as they became unwilling to participate in the new laws being passed. Protests. And then the disappearances began. The other Charles had told her, and she’d seen it, could still see it thanks to Logan’s memories.
The X-Men had received word of an upcoming “Save Humanity” rally sponsored by the Church of Humanity in Charleston, South Carolina, where the MLF was planning on instigating yet another attack on the humans who attended. Word was, they were hoping this incident would be the final nail in the coffin for the MRA so it could be signed into law.
Despite everything that had happened over the last six months - the restricting laws, the hate, and the bigotry - the X-Men would not yield to public pressure, or stop doing what was right. Rogue knew that despite her fears, despite her doubts, trepidation, and the terrible nature of the past months, they must act. The X-Men were determined to demonstrate what an asset mutants were and could be to their fellow brothers and sisters. This time they would would be sure to prevent any additional senseless deaths.
If they didn’t, it would likely be the end of their way of life.
_____
Rogue woke early that Saturday, hours before the sky would show even the faintest hint of gray of an approaching dawn. She’d been having trouble sleeping for months, despite her resumed meditation practices. A feeling of dread, deep in the pit of her stomach was her constant companion. After hours of tossing in her bed, thoughts racing through her mind, she’d finally given up and thrown off the covers of her down comforter off in disgust. It was pointless to try and sleep any further when her mind was this busy, frantically racing through scenarios for the future. She padded over to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and brush her teeth, and stared at herself in the mirror, the buzz of the electronic toothbrush echoing in the small tiled room.
By this point, eight months after she’d returned, the platinum streak was no longer novel when she caught sight of her appearance. At first, it had felt like she was staring at a stranger whenever she caught a glimpse of the silvery strands, and she had felt unsure of who exactly was looking back at her in the mirror. She had shivered involuntarily as she remembered the appearance of her other self through Logan’s eyes. Would she be subject to the same fate?
She rinsed her mouth and tied up her hair in a messy twist held into place by the ever-present elastic band on her wrist, and turned back to her room to throw on some leggings, tennis shoes, and an over-large gray NYU sweatshirt. She needed some fresh air to help clear her thoughts, and a long walk in the early pre-dawn morning sounded like the perfect antidote to her busy mind.
Rouge quietly closed the door to her bedroom, and turned toward the long corridor that met up with the student’s hallway. The mansion was quiet at this hour. Even the more rambunctious students who used Friday nights as an opportunity to test their limits on how long they could stay awake, were asleep. The halls were normally constantly full of noise and bustling students or staff, on their way to a lesson or other activity, and she took a moment to appreciate the nearly complete silence. The whir of the electric heaters was quietly humming in the background, along with the odd creak of settling oak floors.
She exited the mansion through the rear by the kitchen and made her way past the tidy and manicured grounds toward the woods that bordered the grounds of the school. The spring morning was chillier than it had a right to be this late in April. The tips of tulips and daffodils in the recently mulched beds were well on their way toward reaching up from their winter slumber, and though they were hardy enough for freezing temperatures, Rogue noticed a slight red-brown tinge to their upper-most protruding stems.
It was still dark, but by this point she noticed the faintest gray at the edge of the horizon to the east past the burgeoning spring growth of the trees. It would be enough light for her to safely make her way down the well-worn path that led to a small lake which was frequented by the students and staff during the warmer months of the year. She could feel Wolverine’s quiet watchfulness in the corners of her mind as she walked, and was grateful to have the animal on alert as she breathed in the scents and sounds of a cold spring morning.
She knew that she was not the only one troubled by the recent events in their world. The tension was evident in all of the members of the team, but was most noticeable in Scott and the Professor. Scott was constantly meeting with Charles in his office for hours at a time, and Rogue knew they were discussing intel and plans for what was to come. The latest news of yet another fundamentalist rally tomorrow was worrying them all, and Rogue knew part of the reason she couldn’t sleep was that Scott had scheduled a briefing for mid-morning to go over their plans to ensure the Mutant Liberation Front would not succeed in killing another soul at the rally, be they human or mutant.
Birds were beginning to rouse as she continued to walk, calling out to show they were still alive and strong after the long dark night. The noise increased as they continued to call for food, to attract mates, or protect their young. The Wolverine in her head appreciated their ability to so easily follow their instincts, and Rogue suddenly wished she had a playbook or manual to help her on her own journey through life.
You do have one, kid. Logan said smugly in her mind. Just gotta listen to it.
She rolled her eyes at this unsolicited advice and sighed as she rounded the last curve in the footpath to the lake. She found a flat rock near the water’s edge, past the dead reeds of last summer, that was free of mud and dew, sat down, crossed her legs, and closed her eyes. She registered the cold leeching up from the stone beneath her, through her leggings, and seeping into her skin and muscles. She heard the faint bubble and pop of insects as they skittered the surface of the water for food, and the soft sounds of swelling buds on the trees as they swayed in the early morning breeze. She found peace in that moment and let it flood her mind, quieting all thoughts of what was to come.
Later, the warmth of the first rays of sun on her face stirred her from her meditation and she blinked rapidly to come back to herself. The worry was still there, but it was more manageable now. She’d found herself, her center, and was ready to meet the rest of the day, whatever might happen. She rose from her position on the rock and stood, brushing the remnants of dirt and leaves from her legs, and rubbed rapidly to try and warm the chilled flesh of her buttocks and thighs.
The woods were fully awake now too, full of life and light in the clear morning sun, and as Rogue took a final deep breath, her stomach gave a loud growl signaling its awareness that she hadn’t had a proper meal since lunchtime yesterday.
“Okay,” she declared to the morning. “Breakfast first. Then we’ll see what plan Scott and the Professor have come up with to avoid a mutant genocide.”
And with that cheery thought, she headed back to the mansion.
_____
Rogue sighed contentedly as she finished the last bite of hollandaise and poached egg yolk from her plate. She’d lingered over breakfast that morning with Kitty and Jubilee, forcing herself to eat a full meal. To her surprise, she had managed to enjoy her double espresso with cream, eggs benedict with garlic chives from the kitchen gardens, home fries, and strawberries. Saturday morning breakfasts for the staff were always a little more decadent than the usual grab-and-go style they engaged in during the school week, and Rogue hadn’t allowed herself to so thoroughly enjoy a meal in months.
Good, Logan growled, yer too thin. Don’t like ya not takin’ care of yerself, kid.
She forced down a retort, and simply solidified the barrier that kept Logan contained.
“So, chica,” Jubilee asked as she pushed her own plate back from the table. “What’re we gonna do to celebrate saving the world tomorrow? Thai food and some karaoke?”
Rogue smiled as she stood and gathered their plates. “Maybe,” she conceded with a grin. “I have been jonesing for some drunken noodles.”
“Ooh,” Kitty said closing her eyes in remembered bliss, and sinking back into her chair. “Papaya salad. Pad see ew. Ped gaeng daeng. Sounds like a plan to me. How ‘bout it, Rogue? No better way to come down from a mission other than Thai food and some drinks!”
Personally, Rogue could think of a few better ways to rid herself of post-mission adrenaline other than gorging on Thai food and getting drunk while singing Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid. But without Logan, her favorite Thai restaurant and karaoke would have to do.
“Deal,” she responded as she deposited their dishes in the busing tray. “You ladies ready to go?” Rogue asked, glancing at her watch. The morning briefing was scheduled to start in ten minutes.
Her two friends nodded and they each stood back from the table, suddenly quiet, and they headed out of the staff break room to the staff elevator that would bring them to the X-Men base and briefing room.
The atmosphere was hushed and expectant as they waited for the rest of the team to show up. And Rogue found herself unable make any attempt at breaking the tension. One by one, the rest of the X-Men appeared. First Hank, then Bobby and St. John. Piotr and Ororo came in together, followed by Remy with a wink thrown in Jubilee’s direction. And finally Jean, Scott, and the Professor. They all took their seats in the tall backed leather chairs, with the exception of Scott, who stood at the head of the table.
At ten o’clock sharp, Cyclops began the meeting.
“I won’t mince words,” he began darkly. “You all know the gravity of our current situation. We can’t afford to let the MLF succeed at the rally tomorrow. Tensions between humans and mutants are at an all-time high. And unless we want the MRA to go into effect, we have to do everything in our power to stop them.”
“So, no pressure,” Jubilee muttered quietly, but not quiet enough to escape Cyclops’ notice and he cut her a brief look of annoyance, evident even through the ruby quartz visor.
“The plan is simple,” he continued as he motioned over the sleek surface of the table, transferring the mission details to the display at the front of the room. The screen lit up instantly showing a satellite image of the rally site in Columbia. “The Church of Humanity is sponsoring the rally at the capitol building, and we know the MLF plans to disrupt it and instigate another attack.” Cyclops proceeded as he motioned for the next images to appear on the display which showed juxtaposed images of the capitol building face and its blueprints. “So far our intel indicates the MLF will be stationed inside the capitol building in advance of the start time of oh ten hundred hours. Our plan is to prevent them from ever getting a chance to start their attack. That means we’ll be in place before they even get there.” He motioned again and the blueprints filled the screen, along with several red and blue markers. “We’ll infiltrate the building at oh-one hundred hours tomorrow morning and remain covert until the guard shift change at oh-six hundred hours. Once the night shift guards have left, we’ll make our move to detain the day shift. Records show there should be a total of twelve guards coming on duty. Shadowcat, all of this means disabling building security systems before we can proceed.”
Rogue saw Kitty nod at this and knew she would immediately begin to go over possible decoding and disabling schematics in her head. It looked as though Kitty was about to open her mouth and ask for the data when Cyclops added, “I’m sending you the security data now so you can start planning,” and Kitty’s nod changed to a determined grin.
“Since this is the capitol building, we’ll also be dealing with security personnel. They will be armed, but we’ll be facing a smaller crew during the night hours. Still,” he paused, placing his hands on the table and leaning forward to stare at each of them in turn as he emphasized his next point. “Our goal is to detain, not damage. The guards are there to do a job, but ours takes precedence, so remain in position until you get the go ahead.” He resumed his stance in front of the room, arms crossed as he continued. “Patrol schedules and routes are in red,” he motioned to the display, “and our starting positions are in blue. We’ll be grouped in teams. Shadowcat you’re with Iceman after the security is disabled and will head to the east wing first floor. Beast and Storm, you’ll be on the second floor by the stairs up from the lobby. Pyro and Colossus, first floor near the rear entrance. And Gambit, Jubilee and Rogue will take the west wing second floor. Jean and I will take point in the lobby. Once the guards are secured, Shadowcat will disable their comms, and we can set up in the security office. From there we’ll have access to the video surveillance and can see when and where the MLF make their entrance.”
He paused for a moment to underscore the importance of his next statement. “Again. This will be a simple execution. Detain the MLF members, whatever the cost. We need to be able to obtain hard evidence that these attacks have been propagated by humans, not mutants, so it is critical that we take them alive, and any weapons or suits they have are as undamaged as possible. Any questions?”
Gambit nodded and asked, “Do we have any idea what kind of tech these bâtards will have?”
Cyclops shook his head as he responded, “Nothing concrete. But given past attacks it could be anything. So stay on guard, and be prepared.”
“How many MLF members are expected?” Bobby chimed in from his seat.
“If it’s consistent with previous incidents, then it will likely be a small handful, anywhere from three to five hostiles.”
Rogue noted the lack of certainty in his response and cleared her throat to follow up. “So we don’t know for sure how many will be there?”
Cyclops didn’t bother to mince words as he replied, “No, we don’t.” There was a heavy silence that followed this announcement.
After a moment, Beast raised one large hand and queried, “When do we expect the members of the MLF to descend upon the capitol and take their positions?”
“We don’t have a concrete timeline. While we anticipate them arriving after the shift change, we cannot confirm. It’s likely they have a person or persons on the inside to help with the attack, so all guards are suspect as well.”
Cyclops looked to each team member to ensure there were no additional questions, and when nobody said anything further, he concluded by turning off the display. “Alright. Rest up, and study the building plans. Wheels up at midnight.”
Rogue left the briefing room with Jubilee and Kitty, and wondered how the hell she was going to rest after a briefing like that.
_____
The interior lobby of the capitol building was dimly lit so late at night, in shadows of muted gold, red, and black. It was calm and quiet this late, and had that unnatural feeling that all large or busy buildings had when they were empty. Their entry had been uneventful, and the team had quickly moved to their positions after Shadowcat disabled the building security system, successfully avoiding detection by the skeleton crew night guards. So far, their plan to remain undetected until the shift change was working.
Rogue shifted her weight from one leg to the other, trying to remain alert as they waited. She tried not to glance at her watch, but couldn’t help it and sighed quietly as she registered the time. There were still three more hours until the shift change. Waiting on edge for so long was draining, both physically and mentally. The adrenaline that had surged through her as they infiltrated the building had quickly fizzled out not long after they’d reached their designated waiting areas. And since the name of the game was to go unnoticed, they’d sat in silence, watching and waiting for any sign of an early invasion by the MLF. Cyclops checked in on the comms every thirty minutes, and each team member continued to murmur there were no signs of disturbance. Rogue found herself going into sort of a trance as she waited with Gambit and Jubilee, continuing to answer Cyclops’ request for status updates. Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait…the cycle continued as the hours passed in uninterrupted silence.
Finally, at five thirty in the morning, she felt the beginnings of awareness and adrenaline again as she mentally prepared for the shift change. The three of them would be responsible for four of the guards based on their patrol routes, and Rogue was waiting eagerly for the signs from the other groups that they had secured their own guards.
At last, they heard Cyclops’ signal over their comms, and the three of them took their positions at the end of the corridor on the second floor of the west wing. Her senses seemed on overdrive as they waited, and she felt Wolverine’s focused attention alongside her own. It happened swiftly, and successfully. Jubilee managed to set off a series of sparks to attract the guards, and they predictably moved to investigate the source of the disturbance. Gambit and Rogue moved silently up behind them, and incapacitated them with a few quick punches and knocks to the head. Their guns and other arms were removed, hands and feet bound, mouths gagged, and they were dragged to the room just adjacent to the security office, where they joined the other detained guards who were being watched by Jean.
“Alright,” Cyclops said as Beast and Storm joined them in the security office. “We’re on target. Shadowcat has eyes on the building through the video surveillance, so we should be able to spot the moment the MLF members appear. Keep to your patrol routes, and keep in contact if you notice anything out of the ordinary.”
Rogue and the rest of the team dispersed, with the exception of Shadowcat and Jean, who kept eyes on the building, and the guards. Patrol kept them busy for hours, and at nearly eight o’clock, Rogue could start to hear the noise of the crowds gathering outside the building. There was music, pumping up the crowd, and she heard the sounds of several chants make their way through the ever growing mob.
“Humans-first, mutants-never!”
“Save-the-humans!”
“M-R-A-now!”
And the worst one yet, “Death-to-mutants!”
The hate evident in their chants made her skin crawl, and she tried to shut out the noise of the crowd as she concentrated on patrolling with Gambit and Jubilee.
Then at quarter to ten, Shadowcat’s voice crackled over the comm. “We have eyes on eight hostiles approaching the side entrance on the west side.”
Cyclops answered immediately, “Gambit, Jubilee, Rogue, you’re on point. Storm and Beast, head to the second floor of the west wing for backup. Colossus and Pyro, maintain current position near the rear exit, and I’ll head to the lobby. Shadowcat, what kind of gear can you see?”
“Nothing that I can make out over video. They look…kinda bulky though, so watch your six.”
“Copy that.”
“Bulky?” Gambit echoed as he frowned at Rogue. “Merde. Qu'est-ce que ces crétins prévoient de faire?”
Rogue’s knowledge of Remy’s French was enough for her to appreciate the sentiment and she felt another surge of adrenaline as they made their way to the lower west side entrance. The roaring crowd was a constant hum as they moved, whipped up by the knowledge of safety in a mob. The three of them moved quickly to position, Jubilee leading the way, as they waited for the MLF to come knocking.
As it turns out, they didn’t knock. There was a sort of concussive blast and Rogue and Gambit dove for cover as the steel reinforced door entrance exploded inward.
“Shit!” called Jubilee as she stumbled backward, coughing as dust and debris rained through the air around her.
Rogue surged forward after the noise of the explosion had subsided to grab at the back of Jubilee’s uniform and pull her backward around the corner where she and Gambit had taken refuge. “You alright?” Rogue asked frantically as she brushed some of the rubble off Jubilee’s uniform.
“Yeah, chica. Just shocked!”
“Status!” Cyclops boomed over their comms.
“They blasted the entrance,” Gambit murmured quietly. “No visual yet.”
The three of them stood, breathing hard as they waited for the smoke to clear, and for the MLF to enter. After a few seconds, there was a crunching of boots on concrete as they began to file in. Rogue noted Storm and Beast above them, waiting for a sign from Cyclops to attack. Her powers were defensive, not offensive, and she felt vulnerable as she watched the parade play out in front of her, not knowing how to detain the attackers without using her skin. She could only fight, and support the others.
Eight members. All men. Some had painted themselves in various colors. Some had feathers dangling from their suits and skin. They should have been ridiculous, but their intent made them terrifying. One man was dressed in black and silver, a red sort of monocle or patch over his right eye. He grinned as he stepped over concrete and rubble. “I could get used to this thing,” he said, running a hand over the red lens. Rogue immediately identified he must have been the one to blow the door. Probably through some sort of blast or other force from the lens.
Another man followed who had cuffs at each arm, glowing with some sort of silvery blue light. A third had a series of concentric circles in red and blue against his chest. The rest had no visible enhancements to their suits, but looked to be built for serious combat.
Gambit had quietly been relaying the visible tech of the MLF suits to the team when she heard Cyclops give the order to Beast and Storm to attack from their position.
Beast roared as he leapt over the railing from the second floor and a mist suddenly appeared in front of them, blocking the MLF member’s view. Gambit, Jubilee, and Cyclops surged forward into the fray, when she heard Shadowcat cry out in her ear, “Eight more hostiles are heading inside toward the rear!”
Shit, she thought violently. Sixteen total MLF, with who knew what other enhancements.
“Colossus and Pyro, engage!” Cyclops called as he let out an optic blast into the mass of fighting that had broken out. One of the MLF cried out, and she heard an answering yell of rage from the man with the red lens. She saw a sudden red blast from his lens, and Cyclops dove for cover around one of the pillars that led to the lobby. Gambit began rapidly charging and firing cards toward the center of combat and Jubilee began casting a series of blinding flashes, hoping to blind or distract the MLF. The combat moved near the center of the building, toward the vast carpeted lobby, intensifying as the clash continued.
The noise of yelling, blasts, and explosions from inside the building had begun to reach the crowd amassed for the rally and cries of, “Mutants! Mutants are attacking the capitol!” could be heard over the speaker system.
Christ, they were helping reinforce the idea that mutants were attacking! They had to get things back under control, and subdue the MLF quickly. Without warning, a plume of black smoke began issuing from one of the MLF suits, and Rogue felt an icy dagger of fear race through her as she recalled the deadly gas that had killed the X-Men in the other world. She had no idea if this was the same thing, they’d had no knowledge of such a similar weapon, but she wouldn’t take that chance.
“Don’t touch the smoke!” she screamed into her comm, warning the others to keep clear. “It could kill you!”
The X-Men immediately backed away from the plume and retreated from the center of the fight. She heard the sound of laughter and one of the men saying, “Idiots,” before a sudden concussive blast issued from one of the MLF suits and they all fell to the ground, stunned by the force of it. Rogue felt the breath knocked out of her as she struggled to push herself back up. But the blasts kept coming. One after another, keeping them all down.
Then. She heard something. A thud. The singing of metal as it rent the air. A…roar? And then the blasts stopped just as suddenly as they’d begun.
No. It couldn’t be.
There was a sudden change in the atmosphere around her. She felt a sudden thickening, a density, an awareness of every molecule she breathed in, like inhaling the humid breeze on the edge before a thunderstorm. Her heart jumped as she realized what she was registering. Every atom of her body seemed to be attuned to the presence of someone just out of sight, through Storm’s mist and the smoke and debris of battle. Rogue pushed herself up from the carpeted lobby floor, hurriedly swept the loose strands of hair from her eyes, and looked up to confirm what she suspected.
It was Logan. This world’s Logan. He was dressed in clothes she’d seen so often in his memories that she could feel the stinging pinpricks of tears as she registered the sight of him. Not just in a memory, but flesh and blood and metal and bone. She moved her eyes appreciatively over his form, thoroughly taking her time to fully take in what she was seeing. Black boots scuffed with long use. Dark jeans comfortably worn in. A glint of silver on leather at his hips. And finally a red plaid over a ribbed white tank rolled up to reveal his muscled forearms. She couldn’t help the giddy bubble of laughter escape her lips at the sight in front of her.
“It’s a good thing ya came lookin’ for me, kid,” Logan grinned down at her, the flash in his eyes letting her know that he was fully aware of the way she was looking at him. “Looks like ya need all the help you can get.” He reached down, his hand extended to pull her up and she hesitated only slightly before placing her hand in his. The warmth of him stunned her, she’d forgotten how hot his skin was, and she quickly tore her hand from his grasp, just as soon as she was upright again. She didn’t have time for this now, she thought harshly. Not in the middle of a goddamn battle.
“Who the hell are you?” boomed Cyclops as he scrambled to his feet, shooting a low-level optic blast at an oncoming MLF member.
Rogue saw Logan’s lip curl as he took in Scott’s uniform. “I’m the guy who’s gonna save yer ass, Slim.”
“Cyclops, this is Logan,” Rogue interjected quickly seeing the suspicious twitch of Cyclops’ hand toward his visor.
“Took you long enough,” Scott said acerbically while taking in Logan’s tall figure.
“Cyclops?” Logan mocked, sniffing as he glared back. “Great name.”
Trying to dissipate the tension between the two men, Rogue asked, “How did you know we were here?” as she thought simultaneously, Where the hell have you been?
“Long story, kid. Maybe I’ll tell it to ya later.” He jerked around at noise only he could hear and another MLF member came barreling toward them, lights beginning to blaze from the cuffs at his wrists. Logan instantly lunged to meet them, claws exploding from between his knuckles.
“No!” she cried out to Logan desperately, seeing the flash of metal. “We need them alive!” She’d spoken just in time. The claws retracted instantly, and instead of being impaled by them, the MLF member was instantly knocked unconscious by the force of the adamantium-backed punch to the skull.
Logan snarled as he worked to control the animal, who’d just been prevented from making a kill. She recognized the struggle and shivered as she recalled a time when she’d been overcome by Wolverine’s instincts, who’d demanded she kill Creed for what he’d done to her. His eyes met hers, a feral-tinged golden stare. He was breathing hard, and Rogue fought the urge to look away. She couldn’t give in to that need to tilt her neck, to offer herself. Not now. Not with this stranger in front of her who was looking at her like he was starving and she was a raw bloody piece of meat served up on a platter.
Ya really think he’s a stranger? The Logan in her mind questioned, mockingly.
“You sure ‘bout that?” Logan asked, his voice guttural.
She blinked, confused. Wait. What was he asking her?
MLF, kid. Focus. It ain’t over yet.
She nodded, slightly breathless as she tried to reign in her thoughts and forced herself to turn away and take in the status of the rest of the team. “Yes,” she answered, shaking herself out of her thoughts. “We need proof of who is behind these attacks. Preferably alive proof.”
Logan nodded, his jaw tight, and he turned to assess the remaining MLF members, who were gathering at the center of the lobby. “You gonna make it, Gumbo?” Logan asked as he spotted Remy coming to join them, who was sporting a profusely bleeding gash on his forehead, blood dripping down his face.
Remy grinned as he wiped the blood from his eyes. “Essaie de m'arrêter, homme.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” Logan said as he shifted his attention to Rogue. He seemed to take a moment to assess the state of her. She wasn’t injured. Just stunned, and a little out of breath. He nodded as though to himself, and rounded to Cyclops. “So. You gonna give the order to attack or what?”
Cyclops’ jaw clenched as the rest of the team gathered around him, waiting. “You heard the man,” he stated. “Move out.”
______________
Six months earlier.
It’d all gone sideways from the beginning. Right from the moment Victor had been dispatched to that suburban shithole all those months ago. It was supposed to have been easy. A simple snatch and grab. Hell, he’d done enough of them over the years that he’d never even thought about failing. He hadn’t even cared about the possibility of being seen or caught. It was time for him to move on anyway. Everything was finally in place. The board was set, the mutants were in charge of the pieces, and he was aiming to be on the winning side.
Victor’s jaw clenched as he remembered the physical and verbal lashings he’d endured after the failure at the McMahon’s place. The distraction from Toad and Mystique had been right on time. What nobody had friggin’ anticipated was that little teenage bastard Rift’s powers going off exactly at the wrong time. From then on out, the long thought-out plans had been wrecked, and they had been scrambling to come up with alternate ideas ever since. He’d had to resume his cover. It had been excruciating, all that pretending to care, keeping a low profile and avoiding Charles and that nosy redhead bitch, all the while passing on any relevant news about Rogue’s whereabouts to the other side.
Seven months had gone by without so much as a single sniff of her. Nobody, not even Charles was saying what’d happened to her, or where she’d gone. All they knew is that she’d disappeared. Into another world. Stupid fuckin’ shit, if you asked him. But he did as he was told. He maintained his cover. Played along. And waited.
And then just like that Rogue was back, and the wheels started churning again. He’d still had to wait though. Erik was ready, but they were waiting for the right moment before they made another attempt to take her. Erik knew the X-Men wouldn’t just abandon one of their own, goody fuckin’ two-shoes that they were. They’d be on the Case of the Missing Rogue instantly, so every moment had to be meticulously thought out.
Victor had passed on the information about Rogue and Gambit heading to Japan, and Erik smiled as he gave the order for him to follow, or rather, beat them to their destination. He couldn’t exactly hitch a ride on the jet. Even though he’d arrived before the X-team, everything had been fucked again. Victor stayed motionless, hidden in the shadows, careful to remain downwind of the mutant in the alley. He just managed to suppress a growl as he thought of coming back to Erik empty-handed a second time. He’d almost succeeded in grabbing Rogue in the alley, but that stinkin’ Remy had a temper - always had been unpredictable - and the plan to grab her there had gone fuckin’ sideways too.
He’d been intrigued by the mutant Gambit and Rogue been after though. Some tall asshole named Logan who smelled like the mountains and had metal claws jutting out between his fists. Seemed like another healer, but Victor scoffed. There wasn’t anything impressive about that runt except for the way Rogue had reacted to him. He could still smell that honeyed slickness coming off her after she touched him. Now wasn’t that a kicker? He’d always been sure to steer clear of any of the frails at the mansion, mostly because he wasn’t sure he could control his more baser instincts if he gave in to what he really wanted. And nothing would’ve blown his cover faster than if he’d indulged himself. But if little Rogue had been that turned on by touching another feral, maybe he’d have a chance to entertain her before Erik had used her up. He smiled at the thought and slowly backed away from the alley, finally deciding that this Logan prick was far enough away not to notice his movements.
The moment to take Rogue had passed, and Erik wasn’t going to be happy when Victor turned up again empty handed. But he comforted himself with the fantasy of playing with that pretty one when he finally caught up to her. And while Victor knew the next opportunity they had to grab Rogue would be his last chance, he also knew he wouldn’t fail again.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to @nathg for the beta and helping me work through this beast after such a long time away.
Chapter End Notes:
Two and a half years. I'm so sorry for the delay friends, but I finally feel as though I'm in a place to finish this story. Hang on to your butts as I work on writing the ending this story deserves.