Title: Three Degrees of Separation
Author: Gimpy
Rating: R for the obvious reasons such as violence, language and mature subject mature.
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters... you know the drill on this one.
Author's Notes: Not my first fan fiction but my first X-Men fiction so be honest, please...
Summary: For three years Marie has lived her own personal hell - alone, ignored and deeply depressed. When Logan finally comes back everything changes and the good and bad start to take an interest.
The wind rustled through the trees, swaying and swirling around all that came across its path. Coated in a fresh blanket of cold, its touch seeped into the leaves. Each green limb conformed to its will, moving with it, allowing it to pull at their only ties to the large woodland creature that gave them life. Its will pressed on them, its eerie song of 'come dance with me' enticing them to let go of life and delve into the unknown. The guise of eternity the winds daunting chant exuded, lured a precious few away from safety into the depths of death. Each fallen victim tumbled down, its decent eased by its captor.
Lost in the fold, the wind left behind its fallen, moving on to riper pastures, searching for bigger prey to tease. With the speed of an angel, the devil nipping at its heels, the wind moved, swirling and contouring to the world around it. Deep set eyes of prematurely aged adolescence view the wind's force as a god sent, allowing the cool pressure to press against forbidden skin.
The creamy smooth plain of untainted flesh responded to the winds tantalizing touch. Mounds formed as if the skin were purely reaching out to envelop itself further in the winds hold. As if a living breathing form of consciousness the wind became intrigued with this gentle form perched atop a skyward building. Arching itself, the wind folded around the girl, feeling its way into every crevasse it could find, reveling in the sensation of warmth.
A husky sigh floated free from pursed lips, the sound mingling with the winds own tempered cry. Both entities relished in the feel of the other. Curving and responding to the others movements until all had been explored. Dark auburn hair whipped in the air gracefully, moving as if fingers roamed through it with care. Tears threatened freshly cleansed eyes at the odd feelings rushing through her.
The pure cold of the wind's touch resonated in her mind and a convulsive shiver forged in the pit of her stomach. Realizing the discomfort it brought its new play toy the wind backed away, hovering within inches of her face. It memorized the young woman's features, boring into memory the stone-carved face of true sorrow, the persistent lines of constant pain and the never-ending age that had raped her of innocence. It felt the death and ruin that lay behind the fragile form of a young woman, felt its irreversible pang. The wind recoiled from the painful itch her hard stare brought, backing away from the drowning sorrow.
As fast as it had come it vanished, leaving the soft tendrils of auburn and white hair to fall flat against pale skin. Shimmering eyes blinked back tears of rejection's sting brought on by the winds escape. Not even nature's most pure creature could stand to be near her. Dropping chin to chest her stone cold eyes took in the five-story drop and she envisioned the fall. The wind would not ease her fall as it had the leaves.
That thought alone kept her from plunging into the depths. Instead shaky hands curled around the warmth of her coffee mug, bringing the liquid to her parched lips. There she sat waiting for the sun to rise and vanquish the cold deep within her heart and melt the ice that covered it.
****
Excited chatter filtered through the room, each voice mingling to form one, overbearing sound. Ignorant to the sound, Ororo waited for the teens to settle down. Standing at the head of the class, she watched in bemusement. By the richness in their voices you would have thought they hadn't talked to each other in days when in fact it had been only yesterday. Wisely she recognized their need to release pent up energy. The school year was swiftly coming to an end, the only thing between them, summer vacation and the real world after graduation were the impending exams that seemed to loom over their heads.
Nostalgically, Ororo thought back to her last year of high school and the wreck Jean called a friend. The memories gave new life to the pity she felt for her students, fueled by the thought of the monster exam she had hidden in her room waiting to torment them. Sighing an amused breath, she gracefully strode to the other side of her desk and coughed soundly. The normally effective tactic landed on deaf ears.
"Class," she called softly and received no reward for her effort. "Class!" This time her voice boomed over the small group, bringing to a rest the upheaval of teenage gossip. She smiled at the sheepish faces as their owners slipped into their assigned desks. "Thank you."
With a warm smile she moved to take attendance. Thumbing down the names, she called them out one at a time, receiving an array of responses, spanning from a quiet 'here' to a smug 'nope'. Midway down the list she stopped and stared at the class.
"Rogue?" she called again, searching the vast amount of faces. Peering at the empty desk that belonged to the person in question, she turned to stare at Kitty.
The girl's cheeks flushed with color under Ororo's stare. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she readied herself to lie outright about Rogue's location. Dread filled the girl, she never had been very good at lying. Thankfully she never had a chance to prove that point, Jubilee having stepped in before she even had time to open her mouth.
"Uh Ms. Monroe," she called from behind the dark hair that framed her face. "She wasn't feeling all that well last night. I'm pretty sure she's in bed."
A sigh of relief washed over Kitty's timid features and she mouthed an expressive 'thank you' to Jubilee. The young woman just smirked and stared at her teacher head on, daring Ororo to question her perfectly executed lie.
Accepting Jubilee's excuse, Ororo continued with her class all the while her mind fluttering back to the young girl who'd almost turned into a young woman over night. No one had noticed the changes over take the girl. The once soft overtly joyous eyes had been sealed over with a thick coat of cold indifference. She began to carry herself as if the world itself lay strapped onto her shoulders, the straps digging deeper and deeper into her flesh with each passing day. Logan's less than appealing qualities resurfaced, her mouth spouting things no one ever believed would come from the proclaimed Southern Bell.
Somehow in the course of what seemed like a day, she withdrew herself from the world and those who lived in it. Hiding in dark corners, sitting at the back of classes, speaking only when spoken to. A smile on her solemn face was as rare as laughter shining in her eyes. By the time they had tuned in to her turmoil it was too late to try talking, reasoning with her, being there for her. There were only two people they knew she would confide in - one was hundreds of miles away on some barren road doing 70 in a 50mph limit zone. The other too inexperienced to know the right words to say to make her see the truth in what she was doing.
Peering at the mass of blonde hair, she found herself pitying Bobby. He had no idea the huge role he now played in Rogue's life nor how to use that role to help save her from herself.
Torn from the foreboding thoughts that toyed with her emotions, she realized she was still discussing the upcoming exams. Forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand, she waited for the bell to ring so she could make sure the girl she'd come to call a friend was still breathing.
****
Leaning heavily on the wood covered walls, Ororo waited as patiently as she could for Jean to round the corner. The woman was renown for keeping tight schedules during school hours. Never once did she falter - striving to keep the same routine. Ororo never quite understood why, all she knew was Jean had an ever-present need for fixed reality. Any twist or bend that might jump out of the cracks sent her to the point of severe anger. Normally she was a calm reassuring presence but in those moments, an ocean between you and her wasn't space enough.
And here she was about to impede on her well-laid out plan. Pushing down the jumble of nerves swelling in her stomach, she spotted Jean as she rounded the corner. Chancing a glance at her watch, she smirked and wistfully thought to herself 'right on time'.
"You scare me sometimes," Ororo broke out, pushing off the wall and hindering Jean's path.
Shocked at her friend's presence let alone her words, Jean merely stared at the woman. "Huh?"
Ororo had to stifle a giggle at the completely clueless look on her friend's face. "You are far too anal for your own good sometimes."
Jean couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Is that why you've stopped me? To pester me? Again?"
Sobering, Ororo dawned a serious mask that completely covered her once dancing eyes. The change goaded Jean enough to ask what was wrong. Shaking her head, Ororo tried to find the right words. "I need you to do me a favor. I'd do it myself but well... Rogue didn't come to class this morning. Jubilee said she wasn't feeling well last night but..."
"She's been known to cover for people," Jean finished her sentence for her. "You think she got herself into more trouble?" Neither had to think too deeply to know what she was referring to. The memory of a very drunk Rogue curled up on the kitchen floor, knife in one hand, blood filling the other from a deep gash imbedded on her wrist, still fresh in their minds.
Shaking the idea and the memory from her mind, Ororo droned, "No, I think she's hiding, again. I was going to go looking but... I wouldn't have the slightest clue as to where she is and... you're the only one she won't snap at."
Jean almost wished that fact would bring a smile to her face, make her feel special, but it didn't. She knew Rogue still possessed parts of Logan in her, parts that made her more civil towards her and her alone. There was nothing special about that. She almost freed herself enough to let her mind travel to place it'd left alone for the longest two and a half years of her life. She thought of Logan, of the wreckage he'd left in his wake, the scars that had marred the purest innocence left in a life were it came in short supply, Rogue. Shuddering at the anger that manifested itself, she turned to Ororo and murmured her answer. "I'll find her."
Reaching out in comfort, Ororo gave the other woman a warm squeeze on the arm, knowing full well where her thoughts had wavered. "Thank you... let me know?"
"Yeah," she whispered and watched the head of white hair walk solemnly away. Breathing in a waft of air Jean turned and picked a direction. She'd check her room first with the knowledge that she wouldn't be there. She took to the stairs, taking them two at a time.
She couldn't help the unrest that settled in the pit of her stomach, could barely even ignore it. Her unrelenting worry for the younger woman grew with each step as she approached Rogue's room. She couldn't explain the feelings but knew she couldn't pass them off as unheeded. Forcing her heart to still as her body did before the girl's door she rose a hesitant hand. It wasn't a hesitation as to what was on the other side but the reaction she would receive for interrupting what ever was on the other side.
The loud sound of knuckles on hard wood sounded like lightning in Jean's ears. As its ring died down she waited for a response not really sure in the fact that she'd receive one - pleasant or not. When nothing but silence followed she gingerly opened the door and scanned the room. Surprised washed over her. The room was clean for the first time in she couldn't remember how long and Rogue wasn't in it. The site of cleanliness almost scared her, the reasons unknown to even herself.
Closing her eyes, she willed her mind to catch on to even a glimmer of Rogue's aura. Shuttering, she felt the never-ending cloud that hovered over the young woman and chose to follow the feeling. Eyes closed she put trust in her abilities and soon found herself taking the steps up to the top floor standing in the middle of the hall. Rogue's ambience seemed to stop on that spot and Jean started to question her own abilities when she felt it. A rush of cold air licked at her exposed skin and an involuntary shiver caught her breath, freezing it in place somewhere between her lips and her lungs. That dreadful feeling hit her again this time with far more force then she ever thought possible. Turning on her heal she stared wide-eyed at the window left vicariously open.
Her heart beat so furiously she swore it'd burst forth from her chest. Inching her way to the opened window she cursed herself, wishing she could move faster - reach the unknown swifter. Gripping brashly at the ledge of the window she swallowed a burning lump and leaned out. Her eyes fell to the ground below the window out of pure uncertainty - the glance was followed by a sigh of relief and a gruff chuckle.
Snapping her head to the side she caught sight of Rogue's striking white streaks framing her sallow face. The feelings of relief intensified at the angelic sight.
Another damning scoff floated through the air. "You thought I jumped didn't you?"
Jean barely had time to process her words - shock waves rolling through her.
"It's okay, I probably would have thought that too." There was numbness in her words, a lifelessness that took hold of Jean's already breaking heart.
Yet still Jean could say nothing, the words never finding their way past her tongue. Unable to speak, silence followed. She took that time to take in her counterpart. Her hair lay about her face, made wild and unruly by the winds tempered touch, her eyes were unreadable dark pools hidden behind heavy makeup and shadows framed their contours. Nothing of this girl before her even resembled her former self. Sighing Jean took hold of herself and leaned further out the window.
"What are you doing out here?" Her voice wavered.
"Relaxing." Short and curt but filled with hidden meaning no one had the key to.
"On a ledge fifty feet off the ground? You could fall."
"Would that be so bad..."
Jean's breath caught and she was once again reminded of the night in the kitchen, of the blood that dripped from her porcelain skin on to the cool linoleum floor. "You don't mean that." She wanted desperately for this girl to agree, to ebb the feelings grating at her soul.
"It'd be like flying... I've never flown before."
"Rogue, come inside, please," she pleaded.
Whether Rogue heard her plea or simply ignored it, she wasn't sure but the next thing she knew Rogue reached beside her and pulled out a coffee mug and container.
"Coffee? I brought an extra cup."
"Rogue..." she groaned slightly. "Please just come inside."
Peering up over the rim of her own coffee mug, Rogue stared at the scene before her. "The world looks almost peaceful from up here."
"Rogue," Jean persisted, the desperation in her voice growing.
"It just exists, no complications, no hang ups. It just is."
"Marie."
The sound of her real name tumbling off of Jean's desperate voice broke through Rogue's façade. Her head snapped, her eyes blazing with the purest rage Jean had ever seen. "Don't call me that!" Rogue shrieked, her voice shrill in comparison to the dull tone she'd previously carried. "Don't ever call me that! You don't get to call me that!"
"Okay, okay." Jean rose her hands in compliance. "I'm sorry... just please come inside." She was beyond desperate and on the verge of forcing the adolescent inside.
Rogue seemed to sense the underlining intent that came with Jean's words. Dropping her shoulders she gathered her things and passed them to Jean. She took them eagerly and moved back to allow the girl to crawl out of the window. Reaching out a hand she aided her down. The breath that had caught in her throat vanquished the moment her feet touched stable ground. Nonchalantly Rogue took back the pot and her mug.
"Thanks." With that Rogue moved off, making her way back into the folds of the huge mansion.
"Wait! Can't we just... I don't know talk about this."
Turning, Rogue's gaze remained unfazed, unemotional. "About what?"
Jean tried to suppress her anger at the creature before her. Having single handedly almost given her half a dozen heart attacks in the span of a few minutes she was now acting as if nothing had happened. She acted with such melancholy that it infuriated Jean to no end. "How about the fact that you've probably spent most of the night and half the morning sitting on a ledge fifty feet up? How about the fact that you just off-handedly smiled at the idea of falling fifty feet?"
A placated smile forced its way onto Rogue's pale cheeks and the numbed girl had to force herself to ignore the tears filling Jean's sad eyes. "I was relaxing."
"Right," Jean breathed out hotly. "Cause every one likes to relax on a ledge five stories off the ground. Come on, I'm not that inane. Talk to me Rogue, I'm worried, we all are." She hated herself for wanting nothing more then to slap the unnatural fake grin off her face.
"What do you know?" She didn't even try to hide the cold frosty tone that encrusted her words.
"I know that you're hurting and you think you have to do it alone but you don't. I'm here, we all are." She checked Rogue's unchanging eyes for any sign of recognition of her words. Nothing. "Can't you see that?"
Squaring her shoulders, Rogue decided to end the conversation with two simple but heart breaking sentences. "What I see and what I know are two very different things. You taught me that."
It was then that Jean realized she'd lost her. Lost her to the demons that plagued her every waking moment, the nightmares that haunted her dreams. The once shy girl was nothing but a shell - gutted by the reality of her unrelenting situation. Her mouth dried up along with her pearls of wisdom and all she could do was watch as Rogue walked away from her.
Despondently she wiped at the lone tear that had broken past the brave face she so desperately tried to hide behind. Her attempts at pulling herself together again failed and she slumped in defeat. Dragging heavy burdened feet, she made her way back to her office. Her gut twisted and knotted itself until she could barely breath. Without warning she felt a hand grasp her arm and pull her out of the hall. Her vision came as a blur and she collided with a warm solid chest.
She didn't even have to look up to know who it was and simply rested her head on the warm chest. Shoulders wracked with tears shook as broad hands moved to grasp and hold Jean's shivering form to his chest.
"What's wrong baby?" Scott's hot breath wafted over Jean's pale neck.
Peering up at him he inhaled sharply as he took in her red and swollen eyes. A breathy sob escaped her frowning lips as she croaked one single word. "Rogue."
That's all Scott needed to know exactly why this beautiful woman was so upset. Pulling her closer to him he had to stifle the low growl forming in the back of his throat. He hated to feel anger towards Rogue when he knew she was just trying to deal with everything, but it hurt to see the love of his life brought to tears because of a struggle that had seemingly gone on for far too long.
Jean basked in the feel of Scott's protective arms and for a moment felt normal. "I found her outside on a window ledge upstairs..." she murmured heavily into his knitted gray sweater.
"Again?"
Pulling back, Jean's glassy eyes went from shock to frustration back to shock. "What do you mean 'again'?"
Giving her a compulsive shrug he answered, "I found her there last week, she promised she wouldn't do it again."
Retracting herself fully from his warmth she stared at him in disbelief. "And you actually believed her?"
The words came out in more of a statement then a question but he answered anyway. "Of course not, I've been keeping an eye out for her but I can't be there all the time. Is she okay?"
"Oh yeah she's great." Sarcasm dripped viciously from her tongue. "I cannot believe you didn't tell me about this new habit of hers."
Reaching for her again he moved to her. "She asked me not to and the least we can do is keep our word." He finished the sentence but both of them knew there was more to be said.
Sighing she leaned back again the door. "I can't help but think that if he had kept his word, if he came back..."
Scott's blood boiled at the words though deep down he knew they were coming. "Don't. Don't give him full credit for this when he's only part of the problem."
She wanted to respond, to defend her stand on the subject but didn't. This same scene had replayed dozens of times since Logan left and it always ended in a stand off and one of them sleeping somewhere else for the night. "I hate this!" she cried, burying her face in her hands. "I hate not being able to help her."
"I've come to a conclusion recently. One you're not going to want to hear." He had to stray his eyes away from her hopeful ones, knowing with his next few words he was going to break that hope. "We've tried over and over to help her and you know better then the rest of us she doesn't want it. And in all honesty there is nothing we can do."
Jean opened her mouth to intervene but Scott's hand covered her mouth before she could. "You know it's true Jean. No matter what we do or say we can't help her."
She couldn't hold back anymore, shooting venom with her words. "And what do you expect us to do? Just sit around and watch. Let her dip even deeper into depression? What happens when the cuts start getting deeper or the ledges higher? What then? Do we still do nothing! The healing abilities she acquired from Logan have already started to dissipate, do you honestly want to be partly responsible for real scars to form on that beautiful angel of a girl? Can you honestly let her just slip away from us! "
A habitable hand scrapped through Scott's hair as he strived to help Jean understand the reality of the situation. "She already has Jean. She slipped away a long time ago. You've just been too blind to see it." His own retaliating words cut deeper then he ever intended and he started to feel sick just having said them. "She knows we're here if she ever decides she needs us and all we can do is be here."
The tears escaped once more, tumbling down her chiseled cheeks, slipping off her arched chin. She couldn't accept his words, couldn't accept that there was no way to show Rogue the light at the end of her tunnel. "No... you and the others can give up on her but I will never, NEVER do that."
No more words could be said - both on their own side - unable and unwilling to pass the line between them. Jean grew uncomfortable standing under Scott's gaze. With an agitated scoff she tuned her back on her lover and on his bed and he knew she would not be returning, not tonight and probably not the next day. Scott's feet formed themselves into stone, bridging a gap to the ground, unmoving from his rooted spot.
Granting herself one last glance at Scott, Jean left, moving on through her day as if they weren't standing on shallow ice.
Author: Gimpy
Rating: R for the obvious reasons such as violence, language and mature subject mature.
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters... you know the drill on this one.
Author's Notes: Not my first fan fiction but my first X-Men fiction so be honest, please...
Summary: For three years Marie has lived her own personal hell - alone, ignored and deeply depressed. When Logan finally comes back everything changes and the good and bad start to take an interest.
The wind rustled through the trees, swaying and swirling around all that came across its path. Coated in a fresh blanket of cold, its touch seeped into the leaves. Each green limb conformed to its will, moving with it, allowing it to pull at their only ties to the large woodland creature that gave them life. Its will pressed on them, its eerie song of 'come dance with me' enticing them to let go of life and delve into the unknown. The guise of eternity the winds daunting chant exuded, lured a precious few away from safety into the depths of death. Each fallen victim tumbled down, its decent eased by its captor.
Lost in the fold, the wind left behind its fallen, moving on to riper pastures, searching for bigger prey to tease. With the speed of an angel, the devil nipping at its heels, the wind moved, swirling and contouring to the world around it. Deep set eyes of prematurely aged adolescence view the wind's force as a god sent, allowing the cool pressure to press against forbidden skin.
The creamy smooth plain of untainted flesh responded to the winds tantalizing touch. Mounds formed as if the skin were purely reaching out to envelop itself further in the winds hold. As if a living breathing form of consciousness the wind became intrigued with this gentle form perched atop a skyward building. Arching itself, the wind folded around the girl, feeling its way into every crevasse it could find, reveling in the sensation of warmth.
A husky sigh floated free from pursed lips, the sound mingling with the winds own tempered cry. Both entities relished in the feel of the other. Curving and responding to the others movements until all had been explored. Dark auburn hair whipped in the air gracefully, moving as if fingers roamed through it with care. Tears threatened freshly cleansed eyes at the odd feelings rushing through her.
The pure cold of the wind's touch resonated in her mind and a convulsive shiver forged in the pit of her stomach. Realizing the discomfort it brought its new play toy the wind backed away, hovering within inches of her face. It memorized the young woman's features, boring into memory the stone-carved face of true sorrow, the persistent lines of constant pain and the never-ending age that had raped her of innocence. It felt the death and ruin that lay behind the fragile form of a young woman, felt its irreversible pang. The wind recoiled from the painful itch her hard stare brought, backing away from the drowning sorrow.
As fast as it had come it vanished, leaving the soft tendrils of auburn and white hair to fall flat against pale skin. Shimmering eyes blinked back tears of rejection's sting brought on by the winds escape. Not even nature's most pure creature could stand to be near her. Dropping chin to chest her stone cold eyes took in the five-story drop and she envisioned the fall. The wind would not ease her fall as it had the leaves.
That thought alone kept her from plunging into the depths. Instead shaky hands curled around the warmth of her coffee mug, bringing the liquid to her parched lips. There she sat waiting for the sun to rise and vanquish the cold deep within her heart and melt the ice that covered it.
****
Excited chatter filtered through the room, each voice mingling to form one, overbearing sound. Ignorant to the sound, Ororo waited for the teens to settle down. Standing at the head of the class, she watched in bemusement. By the richness in their voices you would have thought they hadn't talked to each other in days when in fact it had been only yesterday. Wisely she recognized their need to release pent up energy. The school year was swiftly coming to an end, the only thing between them, summer vacation and the real world after graduation were the impending exams that seemed to loom over their heads.
Nostalgically, Ororo thought back to her last year of high school and the wreck Jean called a friend. The memories gave new life to the pity she felt for her students, fueled by the thought of the monster exam she had hidden in her room waiting to torment them. Sighing an amused breath, she gracefully strode to the other side of her desk and coughed soundly. The normally effective tactic landed on deaf ears.
"Class," she called softly and received no reward for her effort. "Class!" This time her voice boomed over the small group, bringing to a rest the upheaval of teenage gossip. She smiled at the sheepish faces as their owners slipped into their assigned desks. "Thank you."
With a warm smile she moved to take attendance. Thumbing down the names, she called them out one at a time, receiving an array of responses, spanning from a quiet 'here' to a smug 'nope'. Midway down the list she stopped and stared at the class.
"Rogue?" she called again, searching the vast amount of faces. Peering at the empty desk that belonged to the person in question, she turned to stare at Kitty.
The girl's cheeks flushed with color under Ororo's stare. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she readied herself to lie outright about Rogue's location. Dread filled the girl, she never had been very good at lying. Thankfully she never had a chance to prove that point, Jubilee having stepped in before she even had time to open her mouth.
"Uh Ms. Monroe," she called from behind the dark hair that framed her face. "She wasn't feeling all that well last night. I'm pretty sure she's in bed."
A sigh of relief washed over Kitty's timid features and she mouthed an expressive 'thank you' to Jubilee. The young woman just smirked and stared at her teacher head on, daring Ororo to question her perfectly executed lie.
Accepting Jubilee's excuse, Ororo continued with her class all the while her mind fluttering back to the young girl who'd almost turned into a young woman over night. No one had noticed the changes over take the girl. The once soft overtly joyous eyes had been sealed over with a thick coat of cold indifference. She began to carry herself as if the world itself lay strapped onto her shoulders, the straps digging deeper and deeper into her flesh with each passing day. Logan's less than appealing qualities resurfaced, her mouth spouting things no one ever believed would come from the proclaimed Southern Bell.
Somehow in the course of what seemed like a day, she withdrew herself from the world and those who lived in it. Hiding in dark corners, sitting at the back of classes, speaking only when spoken to. A smile on her solemn face was as rare as laughter shining in her eyes. By the time they had tuned in to her turmoil it was too late to try talking, reasoning with her, being there for her. There were only two people they knew she would confide in - one was hundreds of miles away on some barren road doing 70 in a 50mph limit zone. The other too inexperienced to know the right words to say to make her see the truth in what she was doing.
Peering at the mass of blonde hair, she found herself pitying Bobby. He had no idea the huge role he now played in Rogue's life nor how to use that role to help save her from herself.
Torn from the foreboding thoughts that toyed with her emotions, she realized she was still discussing the upcoming exams. Forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand, she waited for the bell to ring so she could make sure the girl she'd come to call a friend was still breathing.
****
Leaning heavily on the wood covered walls, Ororo waited as patiently as she could for Jean to round the corner. The woman was renown for keeping tight schedules during school hours. Never once did she falter - striving to keep the same routine. Ororo never quite understood why, all she knew was Jean had an ever-present need for fixed reality. Any twist or bend that might jump out of the cracks sent her to the point of severe anger. Normally she was a calm reassuring presence but in those moments, an ocean between you and her wasn't space enough.
And here she was about to impede on her well-laid out plan. Pushing down the jumble of nerves swelling in her stomach, she spotted Jean as she rounded the corner. Chancing a glance at her watch, she smirked and wistfully thought to herself 'right on time'.
"You scare me sometimes," Ororo broke out, pushing off the wall and hindering Jean's path.
Shocked at her friend's presence let alone her words, Jean merely stared at the woman. "Huh?"
Ororo had to stifle a giggle at the completely clueless look on her friend's face. "You are far too anal for your own good sometimes."
Jean couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Is that why you've stopped me? To pester me? Again?"
Sobering, Ororo dawned a serious mask that completely covered her once dancing eyes. The change goaded Jean enough to ask what was wrong. Shaking her head, Ororo tried to find the right words. "I need you to do me a favor. I'd do it myself but well... Rogue didn't come to class this morning. Jubilee said she wasn't feeling well last night but..."
"She's been known to cover for people," Jean finished her sentence for her. "You think she got herself into more trouble?" Neither had to think too deeply to know what she was referring to. The memory of a very drunk Rogue curled up on the kitchen floor, knife in one hand, blood filling the other from a deep gash imbedded on her wrist, still fresh in their minds.
Shaking the idea and the memory from her mind, Ororo droned, "No, I think she's hiding, again. I was going to go looking but... I wouldn't have the slightest clue as to where she is and... you're the only one she won't snap at."
Jean almost wished that fact would bring a smile to her face, make her feel special, but it didn't. She knew Rogue still possessed parts of Logan in her, parts that made her more civil towards her and her alone. There was nothing special about that. She almost freed herself enough to let her mind travel to place it'd left alone for the longest two and a half years of her life. She thought of Logan, of the wreckage he'd left in his wake, the scars that had marred the purest innocence left in a life were it came in short supply, Rogue. Shuddering at the anger that manifested itself, she turned to Ororo and murmured her answer. "I'll find her."
Reaching out in comfort, Ororo gave the other woman a warm squeeze on the arm, knowing full well where her thoughts had wavered. "Thank you... let me know?"
"Yeah," she whispered and watched the head of white hair walk solemnly away. Breathing in a waft of air Jean turned and picked a direction. She'd check her room first with the knowledge that she wouldn't be there. She took to the stairs, taking them two at a time.
She couldn't help the unrest that settled in the pit of her stomach, could barely even ignore it. Her unrelenting worry for the younger woman grew with each step as she approached Rogue's room. She couldn't explain the feelings but knew she couldn't pass them off as unheeded. Forcing her heart to still as her body did before the girl's door she rose a hesitant hand. It wasn't a hesitation as to what was on the other side but the reaction she would receive for interrupting what ever was on the other side.
The loud sound of knuckles on hard wood sounded like lightning in Jean's ears. As its ring died down she waited for a response not really sure in the fact that she'd receive one - pleasant or not. When nothing but silence followed she gingerly opened the door and scanned the room. Surprised washed over her. The room was clean for the first time in she couldn't remember how long and Rogue wasn't in it. The site of cleanliness almost scared her, the reasons unknown to even herself.
Closing her eyes, she willed her mind to catch on to even a glimmer of Rogue's aura. Shuttering, she felt the never-ending cloud that hovered over the young woman and chose to follow the feeling. Eyes closed she put trust in her abilities and soon found herself taking the steps up to the top floor standing in the middle of the hall. Rogue's ambience seemed to stop on that spot and Jean started to question her own abilities when she felt it. A rush of cold air licked at her exposed skin and an involuntary shiver caught her breath, freezing it in place somewhere between her lips and her lungs. That dreadful feeling hit her again this time with far more force then she ever thought possible. Turning on her heal she stared wide-eyed at the window left vicariously open.
Her heart beat so furiously she swore it'd burst forth from her chest. Inching her way to the opened window she cursed herself, wishing she could move faster - reach the unknown swifter. Gripping brashly at the ledge of the window she swallowed a burning lump and leaned out. Her eyes fell to the ground below the window out of pure uncertainty - the glance was followed by a sigh of relief and a gruff chuckle.
Snapping her head to the side she caught sight of Rogue's striking white streaks framing her sallow face. The feelings of relief intensified at the angelic sight.
Another damning scoff floated through the air. "You thought I jumped didn't you?"
Jean barely had time to process her words - shock waves rolling through her.
"It's okay, I probably would have thought that too." There was numbness in her words, a lifelessness that took hold of Jean's already breaking heart.
Yet still Jean could say nothing, the words never finding their way past her tongue. Unable to speak, silence followed. She took that time to take in her counterpart. Her hair lay about her face, made wild and unruly by the winds tempered touch, her eyes were unreadable dark pools hidden behind heavy makeup and shadows framed their contours. Nothing of this girl before her even resembled her former self. Sighing Jean took hold of herself and leaned further out the window.
"What are you doing out here?" Her voice wavered.
"Relaxing." Short and curt but filled with hidden meaning no one had the key to.
"On a ledge fifty feet off the ground? You could fall."
"Would that be so bad..."
Jean's breath caught and she was once again reminded of the night in the kitchen, of the blood that dripped from her porcelain skin on to the cool linoleum floor. "You don't mean that." She wanted desperately for this girl to agree, to ebb the feelings grating at her soul.
"It'd be like flying... I've never flown before."
"Rogue, come inside, please," she pleaded.
Whether Rogue heard her plea or simply ignored it, she wasn't sure but the next thing she knew Rogue reached beside her and pulled out a coffee mug and container.
"Coffee? I brought an extra cup."
"Rogue..." she groaned slightly. "Please just come inside."
Peering up over the rim of her own coffee mug, Rogue stared at the scene before her. "The world looks almost peaceful from up here."
"Rogue," Jean persisted, the desperation in her voice growing.
"It just exists, no complications, no hang ups. It just is."
"Marie."
The sound of her real name tumbling off of Jean's desperate voice broke through Rogue's façade. Her head snapped, her eyes blazing with the purest rage Jean had ever seen. "Don't call me that!" Rogue shrieked, her voice shrill in comparison to the dull tone she'd previously carried. "Don't ever call me that! You don't get to call me that!"
"Okay, okay." Jean rose her hands in compliance. "I'm sorry... just please come inside." She was beyond desperate and on the verge of forcing the adolescent inside.
Rogue seemed to sense the underlining intent that came with Jean's words. Dropping her shoulders she gathered her things and passed them to Jean. She took them eagerly and moved back to allow the girl to crawl out of the window. Reaching out a hand she aided her down. The breath that had caught in her throat vanquished the moment her feet touched stable ground. Nonchalantly Rogue took back the pot and her mug.
"Thanks." With that Rogue moved off, making her way back into the folds of the huge mansion.
"Wait! Can't we just... I don't know talk about this."
Turning, Rogue's gaze remained unfazed, unemotional. "About what?"
Jean tried to suppress her anger at the creature before her. Having single handedly almost given her half a dozen heart attacks in the span of a few minutes she was now acting as if nothing had happened. She acted with such melancholy that it infuriated Jean to no end. "How about the fact that you've probably spent most of the night and half the morning sitting on a ledge fifty feet up? How about the fact that you just off-handedly smiled at the idea of falling fifty feet?"
A placated smile forced its way onto Rogue's pale cheeks and the numbed girl had to force herself to ignore the tears filling Jean's sad eyes. "I was relaxing."
"Right," Jean breathed out hotly. "Cause every one likes to relax on a ledge five stories off the ground. Come on, I'm not that inane. Talk to me Rogue, I'm worried, we all are." She hated herself for wanting nothing more then to slap the unnatural fake grin off her face.
"What do you know?" She didn't even try to hide the cold frosty tone that encrusted her words.
"I know that you're hurting and you think you have to do it alone but you don't. I'm here, we all are." She checked Rogue's unchanging eyes for any sign of recognition of her words. Nothing. "Can't you see that?"
Squaring her shoulders, Rogue decided to end the conversation with two simple but heart breaking sentences. "What I see and what I know are two very different things. You taught me that."
It was then that Jean realized she'd lost her. Lost her to the demons that plagued her every waking moment, the nightmares that haunted her dreams. The once shy girl was nothing but a shell - gutted by the reality of her unrelenting situation. Her mouth dried up along with her pearls of wisdom and all she could do was watch as Rogue walked away from her.
Despondently she wiped at the lone tear that had broken past the brave face she so desperately tried to hide behind. Her attempts at pulling herself together again failed and she slumped in defeat. Dragging heavy burdened feet, she made her way back to her office. Her gut twisted and knotted itself until she could barely breath. Without warning she felt a hand grasp her arm and pull her out of the hall. Her vision came as a blur and she collided with a warm solid chest.
She didn't even have to look up to know who it was and simply rested her head on the warm chest. Shoulders wracked with tears shook as broad hands moved to grasp and hold Jean's shivering form to his chest.
"What's wrong baby?" Scott's hot breath wafted over Jean's pale neck.
Peering up at him he inhaled sharply as he took in her red and swollen eyes. A breathy sob escaped her frowning lips as she croaked one single word. "Rogue."
That's all Scott needed to know exactly why this beautiful woman was so upset. Pulling her closer to him he had to stifle the low growl forming in the back of his throat. He hated to feel anger towards Rogue when he knew she was just trying to deal with everything, but it hurt to see the love of his life brought to tears because of a struggle that had seemingly gone on for far too long.
Jean basked in the feel of Scott's protective arms and for a moment felt normal. "I found her outside on a window ledge upstairs..." she murmured heavily into his knitted gray sweater.
"Again?"
Pulling back, Jean's glassy eyes went from shock to frustration back to shock. "What do you mean 'again'?"
Giving her a compulsive shrug he answered, "I found her there last week, she promised she wouldn't do it again."
Retracting herself fully from his warmth she stared at him in disbelief. "And you actually believed her?"
The words came out in more of a statement then a question but he answered anyway. "Of course not, I've been keeping an eye out for her but I can't be there all the time. Is she okay?"
"Oh yeah she's great." Sarcasm dripped viciously from her tongue. "I cannot believe you didn't tell me about this new habit of hers."
Reaching for her again he moved to her. "She asked me not to and the least we can do is keep our word." He finished the sentence but both of them knew there was more to be said.
Sighing she leaned back again the door. "I can't help but think that if he had kept his word, if he came back..."
Scott's blood boiled at the words though deep down he knew they were coming. "Don't. Don't give him full credit for this when he's only part of the problem."
She wanted to respond, to defend her stand on the subject but didn't. This same scene had replayed dozens of times since Logan left and it always ended in a stand off and one of them sleeping somewhere else for the night. "I hate this!" she cried, burying her face in her hands. "I hate not being able to help her."
"I've come to a conclusion recently. One you're not going to want to hear." He had to stray his eyes away from her hopeful ones, knowing with his next few words he was going to break that hope. "We've tried over and over to help her and you know better then the rest of us she doesn't want it. And in all honesty there is nothing we can do."
Jean opened her mouth to intervene but Scott's hand covered her mouth before she could. "You know it's true Jean. No matter what we do or say we can't help her."
She couldn't hold back anymore, shooting venom with her words. "And what do you expect us to do? Just sit around and watch. Let her dip even deeper into depression? What happens when the cuts start getting deeper or the ledges higher? What then? Do we still do nothing! The healing abilities she acquired from Logan have already started to dissipate, do you honestly want to be partly responsible for real scars to form on that beautiful angel of a girl? Can you honestly let her just slip away from us! "
A habitable hand scrapped through Scott's hair as he strived to help Jean understand the reality of the situation. "She already has Jean. She slipped away a long time ago. You've just been too blind to see it." His own retaliating words cut deeper then he ever intended and he started to feel sick just having said them. "She knows we're here if she ever decides she needs us and all we can do is be here."
The tears escaped once more, tumbling down her chiseled cheeks, slipping off her arched chin. She couldn't accept his words, couldn't accept that there was no way to show Rogue the light at the end of her tunnel. "No... you and the others can give up on her but I will never, NEVER do that."
No more words could be said - both on their own side - unable and unwilling to pass the line between them. Jean grew uncomfortable standing under Scott's gaze. With an agitated scoff she tuned her back on her lover and on his bed and he knew she would not be returning, not tonight and probably not the next day. Scott's feet formed themselves into stone, bridging a gap to the ground, unmoving from his rooted spot.
Granting herself one last glance at Scott, Jean left, moving on through her day as if they weren't standing on shallow ice.