This is my first X-Men fic, so bare with me here!
And of course I don't own X-Men, because if I did I'd have Rogue and Wolverine be a tad more obvious, and also bring Logan in a bit more than he already is. Oh, and it would also be crap.
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Logan walked out of the large doors of the institution, not looking back. He knew he would miss being around his own kind, around those with a common enemy, but he needed to fill in the blank spots in his memory, and he couldn't do that here. It was necessary for him to leave if he was ever going to understand who he was, and until he understood the past, the future could never be clear.
From behind him, and approaching swiftly, he heard footsteps. Then, the only voice that may be able to hold him there, to prohibit him from leaving, called to him. "Hey."
Rogue stopped running. She stood there, her hair swept around her face, looking quite warm in the afternoon sun. Despite the heat, she was wearing a long sleeved shirt, black pants, and long gloves; a precaution. The only part of her skin that was exposed was her face and little patches where her gloves ended and her shirt began. She looked beautiful, even though Logan would never tell her so.
"You running again?" she asked, her face expressionless, her eyes boring into him. It was as if she was reading him as to figure out where he was going. Logan never revealed much about himself; that makes two of them. They were always very alike; both anti-social, both maintaining a cynical attitude, both sheltering themselves from others. Although they did differ significantly in one area – Rogue wished to forget her past while Logan searched it vigorously. He knew he couldn't rest until he found out, even if once he did he wished he could forget all over again, and that fact made goodbye that much harder. He had tried to leave without seeing her purposely.
"No, not really," he heard himself say, his voice as rough and unfriendly as ever. He could tell that she knew what was behind it though, even if he couldn't express it. "I've got some things to take care of up North." Or rather, he thought he might be able to uncover some things that had happened up North. Maybe find out something.
"Oh," was all she said, looking down at her feet so that her hair fell in her face. Logan debated on reaching out and tucking it behind her ear. It wasn't something he'd normally do, but Rogue always brought out a different side of him. After several seconds of trying to work up the courage, he reached out slowly and played with a strand of her hair.
She jumped, instinctively backing away from the physical contact. Realizing what he was doing, she blushed slightly and smiled. "I kind of like it," she said, as he smiled at the new silver streak in her hair.
"Yeah," he said gruffly. He always had such a way with words.
Done with beating around the bush, Rogue looked into his eyes and said, "I don't want you to go." Logan wanted to say that he didn't want to go either. He wanted to say that he wanted to stay there with her. But he also wanted to find out about his past. He couldn't live the future without knowing the past. So instead he looked at his small traveling bag and decides that there isn't anything worth giving in there. In a very sentimental gesture that he would never, ever, have even thought of doing for anyone else, he took off the only connection he had to his past; his silver dog tags.
He reached out and took Rogue's hand, a slight urge to slip the glove off and touch her warm skin. Suppressing that urge, he laid the dog tags in her hand, and folded her fingers over them. Trying to show her how important of a gesture this was through his eyes, he looked deeply down into hers. "I'll be back for this." And with that, he turned and walked away, not looking back, very keen on keeping his promise.
He opened his eyes with no memory of where he was. Trying to jump up and make himself less vulnerable, he found he couldn't. His head was throbbing painfully, his legs were failing him, and his side was aching in agonizing pain. He pressed his hand against his side and withdrew it when he felt a warm, sticky substance coat his fingers. He was covered in blood. Why weren't his healing powers working? If only he could think. Then maybe he could remember something…
His head hit the ground again when he was incapable of holding it up any longer. He went in and out of consciousness several times before he woke once more to see a shadow hovering over him. A shadow with long, dark hair, and a silver streak in their hair. "Rogue?" he asked, disoriented.
"Yes." Her face was – as always – an expressionless mask. Her voice, however, was choked, quiet, stifled. Wolverine looked up into her eyes; not fiercely as he normally did, not indifferently as he occasionally did, but with affection, as he never did. She returned his look with one of confusion. He said smiled, not wanting to worry her. He couldn't imagine how he looked right now. She didn't return the smile, but merely stared at him.
"Logan," she said quietly, "you're going to die, aren't you?"
"It looks like it, kid." He wasn't going to lie to her. Her eyes watered. "You never came back," she whispered. "Like you said you would," she added, when he didn't seem to understand.
"Oh," he said heavily. She reached out and held his hand. The tears brimmed over. This was the most emotion he had ever seen her show, even the night she ran away from home and he found her in that run down bar she looked better than this. It was unnerving.
Without thinking, he reached up and lightly swept the tears from her eyes, and leaned forward as far as he could. He could not feel any more pain, if it was supposed to come. "Take part of me," he whispered, forcing all of his strength into his eyes to show his intentions. "You can have them, to remember me," he said, as understanding reached her eyes. She knew he wanted her to take his powers, or, what he had left of them.
"No, I can't," she said firmly, the tears flowing strongly.
"Then don't," he said, but leaned forward anyway. "You don't have to take them," he said, "but have me," he said quietly, making himself as vulnerable as he had ever remembered being, even as he lay on the ground in an unfamiliar place, soaking in his own blood.
"I can't," she repeated, but this time it was barely a whisper. She was choking on her own sobs. But when Logan leaned closer, she didn't back away. With the very last of his strength, he pushed his lips against hers, and felt the warm, soft feel of her mouth. Her face was wet with salty tears, and his hands were dripping with his own blood, but it was right. He knew this was how it was supposed to be. It almost overshadowed the pain of his chest constricting, his breath catching, and of the last of his energy leaving him forever. Almost.
With one final gasp, Wolverine touched her face and wiped away the last of her tears. With the faintest trace of a smile on his face, he closed his eyes and his head dropped into the dirt.
Reaching up around her neck, she removed the dog tags he had once given her. Now smeared with tears and blood, she laid it upon his chest. She got up and walked away silently, her shadow fading into the distance.
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So, what'd you guys think? Should I stick to Harry Potter and Twilight, then? This was fun to write, I hope it was fun for you guys to read.
Reviewing is your friend!