Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I won't say more than that. Deal with it.
A/N: this fanfic was inspired by Set Fire to the Third Bar by Snow Patrol
It had been four years. Four years since she had seen him. Four years since she had last laughed, smiled, or shown any emotions whatsoever. And four years of missing what was once there.
She had been keeping track of his movements across Canada by drawing points on a map. Anytime he bothered to check in of course. But then, he would only talk to Storm about his whereabouts, not even bothering to ask to talk to her. The only way she would find out where he had been was by using telepathy on Storm, or using his feral hearing ability. After the cure, she and Logan had been getting on better, but when she even hinted about them starting something together, he split in the middle of the night, leaving his tags on the doorknob of his room for her to find in the morning. Two months after he left, her powers came back, stronger than before, and with the other powers it had helped her collect over the years. When Storm had tried to tell him what had happened, he had hung up on her.
She knew what it was that he was avoiding. Anyone with two hands and a map could locate the big pink elephant in the room anytime he was mentioned in her presence. He was avoiding her. No one knew what exactly had transpired that had caused him to leave. They only knew it had something to do with her. It usually always did. When some one would accidentally slip and say his name, the room would fall into an awkward silence, with the person who slipped up covering their mouth in horror, and she would pretend to shrug it off and continue on her way.
Later that night, somewhere around 3:00 am, she was working on the Danger Room logistics for new exercises for the students, and thereby, creating the new weapons themselves, when she felt a presence behind her. Rogue grabbed a wrench and was about to swing, when she heard the two words she longed to hear most in the world.
"Hey, kid."
It had been four years. Four years since he had seen his little Marie. He still couldn't forget her, couldn't dislodge the feeling that he should be near her, that she belonged to him, and he to her. God, he was turning into such a woman!" he probably had her to thank for that. But damned if he minded. It made him give a small smile that the once mighty Wolverine had turned into a hissing, spitting, cussing kitten because of one little girl.
'Little girl my great aunt Myra's vanilla pudding' he thought. He hadn't thought of her as a little girl since Alkali Lake, when she had proven that she could do what was needed, even if it terrified her. He had to hand it to her, she knew how to pilot better than he ever would. His heart almost stopped when she had flown out of the jet. He didn't think it would be possible.
When she had dropped some not-so-subtle hints about them together, his heart had stopped. Then she had laughed it off, albeit unconvincingly, that she was kidding. But he knew she wasn't. That's why he had left. He was more than likely 200 years older than her, never mind the fact that he could hurt her in a dream and she wouldn't have been able to heal because her power was gone.
That was the real reason he had left. He couldn't have lived with himself if something had happened because of him. So he packed up in the middle of the night, leaving his dog tag on the doorknob for her to see. Back when he had left that first time, he told her he would be back for it. Now, he hoped to god that she remembered that. Ironic that he was hoping to God, considering the things he had done. But what else could he have done? Worship Satan? No thanks, God was good enough for him.
He sped into the courtyard, not even bothering to place the bike in the garage, and bolted inside. Racing down the hall that she had taken residence in last time, he almost fell to his knees when he realized her scent wasn't recent enough to have been here within the last couple of months. But… her scent was stronger in another part of the house. He raced back to the teacher's wing, and sure enough, her scent led right to the last door in the dimly lit hall.
He opened the door and sighed when he found the room empty. He closed the door and followed his nose and heart to another part of the enormous mansion, where he found her bent over some various bits and pieces of machinery. He shook his head as he leaned against the wall. It looked like she retained that habit of staying up till somewhere between way too late and way too early. He watched as she stiffened up, grabbed a wrench, the muscles coiling like she was going to take a swing.
Maybe he could settle her down before she decided to go Gary Taylor on his ass. "Hey, kid."