Welcome and thank you for coming on over and see a new story I've started that fleshes out the other one shots about these two. I'll do my best to update frequently, which shouldn't be too hard as I already have the ending all marked out with a bow on top. Please read and review, let me know whatcha think!
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing for a bit.
Here and Now- Chapter 1
This timeline is confusing, and I'm not adjusting easily to it. Time space continuum is messy, and way past any form of expertise or understanding that I ain't even gonna pretend I have. It's fucked up how it works, and I don't even know how it works. I think I like this world though, this new...well whatever this life is.
I've been back for four days. Chuck and I met on that first day for six hours talking about what I remember versus reality, *his* reality, and where that put me with others. Where that all put me with what I know about myself, about *history*, and everything else in between. Not a lot is different then what I remember, but fuck if everything isn't different.
Stryker, Liberty island, the X-men, Marie. That's all the same, but I've had to talk to people directly to fill in holes. Doesn't matter what world I live in, it always starts with Rogue and a shit seatbelt. That's good, that'll always be mine.
Jeannie is alive, fucking Scooter too. I can't get over it. I know I keep staring at them, at her, Red. I watched her die. I felt her heartbeat stop beating on the end of my claws. Watched the light leave her eyes. Yet, here she is, and there's One Eye, glaring at me like a boyscout as if he never stopped. As if he never left one day after Jeannie's stint with a water damn and never came back. They look happy. They've always looked happy.
I love Jeannie, but I made my decision long ago, In a timeline not here. Should the time come and I could see her again, I was just going to set this be. I love her, I do, but she has her happily ever after and I can't do all that again. I won't do that again, and should've never done it to begin with.
Red can't keep up with the Wolverine, and the Wolverine doesn't want to be controlled and molded into something it's not. The Wolverine can't keep up with the Phoenix, not without death, and hate, and destruction. I could've loved her, but hours after hours of thinking and guilt, God so much guilt. We never would've worked, never would've felt right. I'm glad this time line let's her have another go at her ending, it's supposed to be this way.
Apparently Phoenix made a quick cameo this go around, but Magneto worked with Chuck and the cure to get a handle on things before they really started. The Phoenix came and left in a relatively quiet manner they said. Wish we knew about whatever it is they did the first time.
I remember I, well the other me got back just a few days after from up north, just two days after it all went down apparently. I've been back full time at the mansion for two years though, with the occasional break like that one scattered through. Only two years since that damn lab and meeting with Stryker. It was lifetimes ago, but here, just two years. I- he- we? I was feeling confined, tight. Fuck, if that guy knew what alone really was, it wouldn't seem so appealing. We have a few different memories- like shadows that were long gone that aren't anymore-like Wade. Apparently he almost joined up with us but thank fucking God he didn't. I'll have to tell you how I feel about him being back later.
Everything else seems the same, but I'm not so sure I know where I fit here. Do I fit here? Hell, have I ever fit anywhere? She says I have, I do- the kid. She's a couple years older than I remember her being last time I saw her, but she's still her ya know? She's still sweet, and soft and a spitfire ready to throw down at the drop of a hat. It's nice, warm, familiar. All voice like warm caramel and a tongue sharper that one of my claws. Still with the popsicle too, and they seem happy enough, but no surprise he's already making eyes at his future wife. Or maybe not future wife? Ugh, fuck. I'm not Cable, I don't know the answers.
She marked me the day I got back. She knew something was off. She kept giving me looks as I made my way to Chuck's office, instantly keyed into my panic. I could smell her pacing outside the office from time to time. Three hours into my session with Charles, we had her come in, try to help fill in those gaps I was talking about. Kid didn't even have the decency to sound surprised when we caught her up.
"Pah! Sugar, I just had my old teacher come back from the dead and be possessed by some super-being from who knows where. You ain't got shit on that." Charles was nice enough to hide his chuckle behind clearing his throat though. I tweak one eyebrow at her and again Charles as he returned to catching me up with politics.
No Sentinels to be found anywhere, though the cure will seemingly be handed out through clinics within the next few days. Mutant human relations while fragile, haven't hit combustible levels yet, and Chuck is confident on McCoy being able to keep things steady with the public.
I spent the past three days mulling around the mansion and helping here and there where I could. Help move tree trunks for Storm's Garden. Fix up a couple of the older students' cars, throw in the occasional tip while watching danger room sessions with the team. People are giving me odd looks, but whether it's me or the Professor has said something, people have the common sense to set me be.
The majority of my time has been spaced. My future is starting to fog, the things that I know happen are starting to get out of my grasp some, and the past that had happened here is starting to clear. Chuck says that this makes sense, that I should still remember the basics, the frame, but the brain can only take so much in remembering things that defy logic; Remembering things that haven't even happened yet or may not happen at all. It's a trip, leading me to moments like this where I stop what I'm doing and try to take time to zip up my past from there and my past from here.
"Hey Sugar, you're looking a little stuck there." I jump at the sound of her voice and hit my head on the raised hood of the Ford I'm working on.
"Fuck Rogue! Jesus!"
"I'm sorry, " She starts, accent thick with sarcasm "usually I'm not all that concerned on sneaking up on the feral mutant with super senses." I growl in response.
"'Nother one of those headaches again?"
"Hm, yeah. Just still trying to get things on one track" I say roughly, reaching for the Moulsen on the tool tray and taking a swig. I purr affectionately as she comes closer and starts to massage my neck.
"Let me know what you need raggedy man, and I'll see what I can fill in for you."
This. This is nice, whether here or there- this feels normal. She's like putting on a warm blanket that you've had forever. We don't have to try, to bullshit. We just *are* with no expectations or concerns about who or what we are.
"Hm, Thanks darlin'" another grunt of satisfaction "but hey, whaddya doing down here anyway? Have a hot date with the fish stick?" Her hands go still, and after looking at her, her eyes a bit smaller in a glare as she takes a step back.
"Heh, not likely anytime soon. I wanted to talk to you actually."
"Oh, uh, alright then." Another swig of beer. I just got over telling myself how easy this is, so why is she acting this way? Biting her lip, shifting the weight of her legs back and forth.
"Go on, I'm listening."
She takes a deep breathe before starting. "I'm just going to start at the punch and say I've gone and had the cure."
I swallow down hard as I absorb her words. I stare at her gloved hands. I mean, it's not that surprising, we've been down this road before- back then, over there. Shit though, now? No warning, just went out and did it? She and I have talked about it here over the past couple years, memories are still fuzzy around the edges, but I seem to remember long nights by the fire talking about the 'what-ifs' with our powers. WHat would our realities be if they weren't the case.
"When?"
"'Bout 2 hours ago now. I thought this through, and you know my reasons."
"And the popsicle?"
"Heh. Wasn't so receptive to the idea. It's okay, you of all people knew it was a long time coming." More than you know kid.
Here there were conversations of how relationships were also limited because of our powers, but really no matter where I am he wasn't man enough to stick through and makes things work with her. The Rogue in her needed a match, equal, a survivalist, and the popsicle needed cookie cutter, something to fill the need of normal he'd never have as a genetic anomaly.
I calculate, but don't have it in me to tell her the potential of it fading, and I'm not even sure if I'm honest that that is even the case here. She knows all these risks too. Maybe it does fade. Maybe it takes months, or even years this go around. Fuck, maybe it doesn't fade at all. Fuck.
"You're still you, ya know that right?"
"Am I? I gotta figure that bit out."
I say it again.
" I hear that, but you're still you Marie. " I cross my arms and lean against the truck, squaring up straight with her. "What's the plan? What the Professor say?"
She smiles softly, her eyes glazing over as she thinks of something.
" I'm not sure, but the plan's not here. It's awfully quiet in my head right now and I want to figure out what that's like too. Anyway, both him and Scott were understanding about it. Everyone's in transition anyway with Jean back and you being home. I'm on sabbatical from the team for now, and from para-ing for now. They said I still have a place to call home whenever I want to. It was nice. Jean hugged me, Storm was a bit taken aback though, but you know how she is about our gifts."
I hum lowly in understanding. "Just about told everyone, huh?" Of course Storm would be the one who had a tougher time, the weather witch believes to her core that we are exactly what we're meant to be and that there should be beauty, not shame in that. She's caring and a friend first, so no matter the moral dilemma, of course it ended with a hug and congratulations.
Rogue and Cyke have a weirdly close relationship here as well. I'm still trying to peg down when or why that bond was formed but, they get on real well. I don't like it, but who am I to blame someone for gravitating to someone like Marie?
"Yup, just about. NightCrawler and Jubilee seem happy for me. Angel had some choice words. It just left you, but I wasn't worried about you Sugar."
Another understanding hum. I stare at her gloves more, swallowing again. I can't help it.
"What's it like? Have you tried it yet?"
She looks down at her shuffling feet.
"Just with the nurse who gave the shot. It was so anticlimactic. Here I am, haven't touched another soul for close to seven years, since 16- and she just pats my hand and walks away. Elle n'avait pas la moindre idée."
'She had no idea' she said, in her southern French, something she slips into at times, when feeling emotional and raw. We speak from time to time in French, something she's always found humor and comfort in as it reminds her of home she says.
"Montre moi."
Her eyes dart up, surprised and wide. She shifts again, thinking it through. Her eyes darting between the ground and me as she clings at her gloves.
"Êtes-vous sûr?"
"Of course I'm sure Darlin'."
She nods just slightly as she starts to remove her glove, her breathing just a hint heavier. One finger at a time until the glove slips off with a pull of her hand. She holds up her hand, strong and confident, her eyes looking square into mine.
And just like that, we're palm to palm, my larger hands, fingertips ending above hers. No pull, no pain. We stay there another few seconds, both just staring at our joined hands. I smirk as I weave my fingers between hers, holding her hand. She laughs a little and smirks, looking up at me and grazes her thumb back and forth over my hand.
"Huh, would you look at that?" She breathes out.
She gives a little yelp as I pull her hand so I can hug her. Cheek to cheek. I smile against her hand as she grazes the stubble on my cheek. She's still her, still Marie.
I hope she finds whatever it is she needs. I hope she connects to people, I hope she's able to breathe for the first time in a long time when in a crowded room. She deserves to start living. I hope she does come home. I hope she doesn't have to unless she wants to. We hold each other for who knows how long, I don't think either of us cared.
"Give me a call, okay?"