Rogue was almost surprised at how easy it was to step into the maintenance role. Some of that was because of having helped for so long but mostly had to do with how well organized Logan kept everything. The difference in their habits didn’t really come as a shock. It was evident even now with him gone, she was still living out of boxes in his orderly apartment. The only items that had been put away were her clothes hanging next to his.
Taking a deep breath, she picked up the clipboard. Danny’s little group had been helping in the previous weeks; tightening screws, changing light bulbs, and keeping notes of those jobs and things they couldn’t fix. She could do this and it looked like she might have some help if she needed it.
The first week she spent catching up on the list and developing the practice of putting everything back in its place. Her days fluctuated between showing a brave face, weeping, and being mad. She was also beginning to see what Scott had meant by Logan going beyond what was expected of him.
The floor buffer she was pretty sure she could wrestle into submission over the summer to deal with the classrooms during break. However, doing the scheduled replacement of the shed’s roof wasn’t something she could do with confidence. At the end of the week, she would need to have a sit down with Scott and go over some of these jobs. In the meantime, she decided to update Logan’s lists to include the sub-level.
“Hey, Hank,” she said entering the lab. Rogue had become good at giving an ‘I’m doing fine’ smile, which usually put others at ease.
“Good morning,” Hank replied, trying to return the smile. She could tell he was ill at ease with her presence, which perplexed her and she tried to hurry not wanting to have a discussion about her feelings or anyone else’s.
Looking at the clipboard, she drew a quick diagram like Logan had. When she flipped back to his notes, she realized he’d also been marking those lights which were reaching the end of their use. She stared at the lights a second, then his notes; that was something she couldn’t do until they started blinking or making noise within the range of her normal senses. Then again, she bet Hank kept on top of those kinds of things with his heightened senses.
He squirmed a little under her gaze and she gave up her false pretense of indifference. “Hank, is there a problem?”
Clearing his throat, he was obviously uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “I do not want to assume anything, but were you and Logan sexually active?”
She flushed bright red. This was never something she thought she would discuss with Hank of all people. He rushed on, “Your smell has shifted. I think you might want to consider the possibility that you’re pregnant.”
Laughing with relief, she said, “I’m … I was on the pill.” In the aftermath of Logan’s death, she’d forgotten to take them and now it seemed pointless.
“Oral contraceptives can fail,” he stated. She would swear he might be blushing as much as she was, though thankfully he was being very clinical now that his discomfort of introducing the subject had faded. “A light period about ten days after the last sexual activity could be implantation bleeding.”
Her eyes began to burn and she blinked rapidly to avoid the tears trying to force their way out. Sighing, she fiddled with the paper on her clipboard, turning the thought of pregnancy over in her mind. It was time to face the facts, there had been several symptoms that would fit better with pregnancy than grieving, where she had tried to shove them. Here she'd wanted to simply power her way through this and make everything go back to the way it used to be. If this was true there was no going back.
If probably wasn't the right word, not when the possibility was strong enough for Hank to mention it in the first place. There was one thing she’d learned from Logan’s heightened senses, “The nose rarely lies.”
Hank nodded and looked relieved that the tough part was over. Actually, that might have been the toughest part, because now that the idea was taking hold, she felt a shimmer of hope. This could be a way forward that would bring some happiness back into her life. “What now?” she asked.
“We’ll walk over to the med lab and run a test,” he answered. She followed along, already thinking of all the things that would need to be done if she was pregnant.
Wandering back into Hank’s lab, Rogue picked up the clipboard she had forgotten earlier. Updating the list didn’t seem so important now, there was another list she needed to start making. Hank had promised to reach out to several associates with had ties to the government, they might be able to find Logan’s old medical records. He thought they would prove useful later on.
She was about to go back to the apartment when it occurred to her that she had better talk to Scott. There would come a point when she would have a hard time tying her own shoes; by then squeezing into tight areas might become a problem too. First stop would be the Danger Room where he’d been building a simulation.
Checking the kiosk panel for safety precautions, she entered the Danger Room. She’d expected to find Scott examining some aspect of a training simulation. It wasn’t unusual to find him tweaking the programs until they were perfect. Instead, what she walked into was a replay of Logan’s death.
The factory floor lay before her with various pieces of sentinels in different stages of completion. A snikt came from the storeroom on her right followed by an explosion and Logan being thrown out the door and into one of the steel supports on the factory floor. The sound his body made when he hit made her stomach churn. He lay crumpled on the floor at her feet struggling to breathe.
“Logan!” That was Scott’s voice coming from the comms with Hank’s voice in the background. Rogue stared down at Logan. She always remembered him strong and vibrant, but this was him in pain, listless.
“Fuck,” Logan cursed. His ragged breathing filled her ears as another explosion from the storeroom shot more flames and shook the factory. “Get out,” followed by something unintelligible as the second explosion threw dust in the surrounding air. This was how he died; alone, even though she could hear Scott and Hank running toward the area from the adjacent offices.
“Tell her I love her,” barely a whisper as the dust particles ignited, setting off the explosion on the factory floor itself. The bright flash and the roof being ripped apart made her step back. The next moment debris began to fall on Logan, covering him as flames flared up around his position.
Rogue counted the total of her slow deep breaths. Three in all. The simulation halted, and the computer announced, “Subject expired.”
Scott walked through the smoke and flames stopping at the pile of rubble where Logan had been. He wrinkled up his brow, glancing back and forth between the scene in front of him and the tablet in his hand. There was still something wrong, this shouldn’t have happened. He’d added in the dust from the old furniture factory that might have been present for the particulate explosion. The first blast, what had set it off? What was being stored in that room?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her, pale and shaken. “Is this how he died?” she mumbled.
“Rogue, I…" He couldn’t finish his train of thought. This was possibly the most callous thing for her to be confronted with just as she was beginning to put her life back together. Sorry wasn’t going to cut it.
“Is it?” she demanded a little louder.
“Yes,” Scott confirmed, stepping toward her.
“This is what took so long that night. Why Storm joined you?” He simply nodded this time and she could see the sorrow on his face. Not only for her pain but that he had exposed her to this. “Show me?”
Scott hesitated a second before moving the slider on the tablet forward, speeding the simulation up until Storm arrived to put out the fire. Maybe Rogue needed to see this as much as he had, for different reasons of course, but needed to see it to put it all into place. He’d always treated her like a little sister and it was time to stop that, he obviously couldn’t protect her from life.
The simulation played on as Storm worked to put out the burning rubble that only had ash underneath. It was a remote location, and the security had taken time to organize and move back in. “We couldn’t stay any longer,” he said as the simulation ended.
She couldn’t blame them. There was no reason to put three people’s lives in jeopardy for a pile of dust. It was just hard to see this, but in a weird way it felt right.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to ever see this.” Scott knew if this were Jean’s death he wouldn’t handle it very well.
Nodding, she walked around the area. He was a bit of a perfectionist at times so he must have a reason for recreating the scene. “Something went wrong.” It was a statement of the obvious.
“The explosives,” he said rewinding the simulation. “There are a number of materials that could have caused this, but they needed to be airborne plus a source of ignition.”
“Were there any other deaths? Security?” She was beginning to see what had him puzzled.
“None, not even the guard that was supposedly in the area.” He started the first part so she could hear the report of a guard followed by the snikt seconds before a metal on metal sound and the first explosion.
The second sound was odd, but she knew in a fight and over the comms, things didn’t always sound like they should. “A setup?” Rogue asked, wrinkling her brow. “I mean could someone have slipped him the info and used it to set the X-Men up, but Logan spoiled that.”
“It’s a possibility,” he walked around the initial blast area. “I think I need to solve what type of materials were used first.”
“I’d like to help,” she said. She might need this now more than she thought.
“Are you sure?” Scott asked. “It will take a lot of research and data input.” He didn’t remember research being high on her list when she was in school but then again doing a school report wasn’t as personal as this.
“Yes, I need to have answers for his child,” she stated before walking through the floor plan of the factory.
He could only stare. Once he’d told himself that her relationship with Logan would only end in heartbreak. Not that he foresaw this particular conclusion, but in the end she might come out stronger.
It was an unusual time of the day for the Professor to call a meeting. Although it wasn’t an emergency, it was important that the top-level X-Men be there. Others would be briefed later in the day as school scheduling permitted. Only a few minutes he’d said, then everyone would be released for lunch. She hoped that was true because she was starving.
Rogue filed in with almost a dozen of the X-Men and dutifully took one of the papers being handed around. She was officially on medical leave from the team, but only a handful of people knew it was due to pregnancy. There didn’t ever seem to be an appropriate time to make the announcement. Hank had assured her it could wait a while longer and Jean let her know that most women didn’t reveal the news until well into the first trimester.
“I’m sorry for the last minute meeting,” the Professor began. He was obviously cutting out the normal pleasantries to make the meeting short. “Earlier this week an old friend became aware of a security report that had been filed with a particular government agency about our Institute. We were able to obtain a copy, hopefully you each have one in hand now.”
She glanced briefly at the paper in her hand. Not much of a report, she’d done longer book reports. It was a single page of normal font and size. Maybe this was just the cover sheet, she skimmed it quickly and nothing stood out.
The Professor indicated as much. “This is rather innocuous and discrete inquiries for the remainder of the report are being made.”
Innocuous. Good Rogue thought, she would be gone in minutes to the cafeteria. Tuning out the rest of the talk, her mind turned to meeting with Scott after his last class. They had entered the last of the information into the Danger Room’s database and she wanted to see if it had finished integrating it into the model.
Smiling, she thought of how he should have been a detective. Scott had gathered all the intel and combed through it, meticulously recreating Logan’s last mission as best possible. He was intent on getting to the bottom of what went wrong. He said it was to prevent any future tragedies, but she knew it was because he needed to understand what he missed, what he could have done to prevent it in the first place.
Even better, helping Scott brought her a measure of closure. She didn’t like that word. With a baby, Logan’s baby on the way, she would never have closure. Solace, or maybe simple acceptance. That was enough to keep her moving forward.
Innocuous was right, painfully so. The report, if it could be called that, made the school sound like the local parochial school. It raised all kinds of red flags in Scott’s mind. He’d seen enough official government reports in his time to know this was it. Oh, there might be a cover letter or some mumbo-jumbo from a high-ranking official. However, this threat assessment report was complete, any other information that accompanied it to make a packet would just be government bullshit paper pushing to cover some agency’s collective ass.
He read it through carefully again, coming up with nothing a second time. Somehow it felt familiar, not the report itself or the details, those were easily dismissed. It was the style of the writing, almost like he’d picked up a book by an author he knew.
Zeroing in on the signature, James Howlett didn’t ring a bell, but the handwriting did. He absently wondered aloud, “Rogue, do you-”
“Scott!” Xavier stared at him, at the interruption.
Looking up, Scott realized he’d forgotten where he was. “Sorry, Sir. But the handwriting,” he said, shaking the paper for emphasis. As he was formulating the rest of his answer, he heard Rogue gasp from across the room.
“Holy shit! Look at the date.” She could feel the anger rising. If that date was right, it might clear up some of the mystery surrounding Logan’s last mission.
Glaring over at Scott, she clenched her jaw and bolted from the room. All the files for this were in the Danger Room’s viewing deck. Damn Logan. If this development was what it seemed...well, she best not jump to conclusions while she was starving.
Scott caught up with her as she exited the cafeteria, her lunch tray in hand. He silently held out a hand for the tray as she stuffed tater tots in her mouth. She handed it over, taking the bottle of water.
“It’s his handwriting,” she stated, between drinks of water and mouthfuls of food.
“We’ve been staring at it for two weeks now,” he said, nodding in agreement as the elevator opened to the lower level. “And the date…”
Rogue sighed, they had searches to do, info to add and probably a new theory or two to hash over. There was so much to do and all from one signature and date on one harmless piece of paper. “Uhm… the Professor?” she asked after a second.
“I’m pretty sure he didn’t have to read any minds to know what was happening,” Scott answered as they entered the control room. “He did suggest that we get to the bottom of this and that my classes would be covered for the afternoon.”
He brought up the simulation they had been working on and with it the files on the monitor. “Third monitor,” she pointed out around a mouthful of chicken sandwich. The sandwich was really good today, probably the pickles, though her eyes had been bigger than her stomach and she pushed the second sandwich toward Scott.
Scanning in the report, they analyzed the handwriting samples. It quickly confirmed what they suspected, there were a few natural variations but nothing significant. The signature on both pieces was the same writer. Logan had either turned in the report with the wrong date or turned in the report days after he died.
She was unsure whether to be angry or elated at the news. If the latter were true, that meant Logan was alive and that gave her hope. However, if he was alive that brought up another set of questions about what he’d really been doing at the Institute. Those questions would have to wait as they answered others that had plagued them even longer.
“If he’s not dead, how did he fake it?” Scott asked, watching the simulation running below. “We already figured in the industrial materials. But what set them airborne to begin with?”
The simulation played again from the beginning as Rogue cataloged it mentally. “Was someone else there? We’ve no evidence of that guard,” she asked, pausing the program. “Cause he released his claws here.”
“What?” Scott looked at her in confusion.
Rogue had kept Logan’s secret while he was alive and it hadn’t occurred to her to tell anyone after his death. Now that his death was in question, any information might help. Swiping through the file on her tablet, she found what she was looking for. Like the report from earlier today, it wasn’t much, but it would be enough of a medical file for an expectant mother and her doctors. Though Hank said they would look at it together when she was ready, she’d glanced through it enough to know it included some needed information.
“There,” she pointed to the screen at the small picture of Logan’s claws next to a full x-ray of his body.
“Is that metal all over his skeleton?” Scott asked before putting up the written medical report on another monitor. Quickly he skimmed through it looking for the information needed. “It is,” he mumbled. “I think I’ve underestimated his healing by a massive amount.”
He looked over at her and she could see how wide his eyes were even with his glasses on. Rogue knew the questions forming in his mind because she’d been curious enough to ask once after seeing the metal on his face when he was cut on a mission. “We didn’t talk much about it, his memories of it were…, it happened a long time ago.”
She shrugged, shaking her head. It was beginning to feel like she never really knew Logan. Her worries from early on about ulterior motives were coming back to haunt her. The possibility of a faked death, and the report were just the tip of something bigger.
The tears started to well up, thankfully Scott busied himself inputting data to give her a moment. Part of the tears were hormones, the rest were a mix of emotions she didn’t want to examine right then. Here she was over an hour after leaving the Professor’s office and about to determine whether or not her lover had actually died.
Void of any feeling, that’s what came to mind as she watched the simulation go through its paces. Explosion, roof collapse, death, followed by a familiar “subject expired”. They waited impatiently for the sequence of events to unfold. Several minutes passed, at the end the computer announced, “Inconclusive. More information needed.”
Slowly Rogue turned to stare at Scott. He blinked several times before asking the computer, “Chance of survivability?”
Without hesitation, the computer answered, “There is a fifty-eight percent chance of survival.”
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