Cold Also Burns
"Where's John?" "With Magneto."
Rogue opened her mouth but closed it before saying anything. We'd been through enough that day to go through any more, I guess. Of course, that was before Jean died to save us. Like everyone else on the flight, I knew there could have been another way. Admittedly, that is mere conjecture at this point.
Scott raged for most of the flight to DC straining against Logan. His shrieks and pleas broke every heart on the plane. They will probably haunt me for the rest of my days. It was one of the few times Rogue let me hold her in front of Logan, like he noticed anything but Scott in front of him and Jean's absence. Staring at Scott and Logan, I was struck with the thought that these two forces that could have torn each other apart were the only things that could hold them together.
The president dealt with our news far better than I think we all expected. In those tense moments, Storm made the sky as dark as our hearts. While I like to make us the good guys, I know that we could have easily destroyed everyone in that room and not quelled the emotional maelstrom we each felt after days of fighting and fleeing. We returned home to Westchester to face more emptiness and nightmares than I thought possible.
The repair work was completed quickly on the mansion. Some of it we did ourselves. There is nothing better for nightmares than exhaustion. A few of the places were made better. We'll never have to rely on Peter to force the wall again should we be attacked. The security system has been updated. I hope the squirrels and birds are aware of the changes. If not, we're going to be picking up a lot of cooked beasties until they are.
There are things that repair and redecoration can't fix. I passed John's bed every morning and every night. Rogue wouldn't look at it when she snuck into my room on the nights that the dreams got to her. I would wrap her in blankets and place myself between her and the empty bed. It was the closest she had let me get privately since our kiss in my bedroom. I have to admit while it wasn't what I wanted it to be it was a lot more comfortable than it could have been. The sheer heat from her proximity could burn me alive. I never liked the heat very much for obvious reasons. I learned on those nights pressed against the cotton that even cold can burn. For her though, I'd walk through the gates of hell itself. I think the worst part is both of us knowing that even if we went through hell, we still couldn't touch for more than a few seconds.
During those tough moments, I focus on the most beautiful thing I've seen. In my room, what used to be my real room, Rogue pursed her lips and blew cold. For that one moment, we both could see our connection. It's that image that stays with me through classes and dreams. It's the one image that keeps the heat from burning me.
"Where's John?" "With Magneto."
Rogue opened her mouth but closed it before saying anything. We'd been through enough that day to go through any more, I guess. Of course, that was before Jean died to save us. Like everyone else on the flight, I knew there could have been another way. Admittedly, that is mere conjecture at this point.
Scott raged for most of the flight to DC straining against Logan. His shrieks and pleas broke every heart on the plane. They will probably haunt me for the rest of my days. It was one of the few times Rogue let me hold her in front of Logan, like he noticed anything but Scott in front of him and Jean's absence. Staring at Scott and Logan, I was struck with the thought that these two forces that could have torn each other apart were the only things that could hold them together.
The president dealt with our news far better than I think we all expected. In those tense moments, Storm made the sky as dark as our hearts. While I like to make us the good guys, I know that we could have easily destroyed everyone in that room and not quelled the emotional maelstrom we each felt after days of fighting and fleeing. We returned home to Westchester to face more emptiness and nightmares than I thought possible.
The repair work was completed quickly on the mansion. Some of it we did ourselves. There is nothing better for nightmares than exhaustion. A few of the places were made better. We'll never have to rely on Peter to force the wall again should we be attacked. The security system has been updated. I hope the squirrels and birds are aware of the changes. If not, we're going to be picking up a lot of cooked beasties until they are.
There are things that repair and redecoration can't fix. I passed John's bed every morning and every night. Rogue wouldn't look at it when she snuck into my room on the nights that the dreams got to her. I would wrap her in blankets and place myself between her and the empty bed. It was the closest she had let me get privately since our kiss in my bedroom. I have to admit while it wasn't what I wanted it to be it was a lot more comfortable than it could have been. The sheer heat from her proximity could burn me alive. I never liked the heat very much for obvious reasons. I learned on those nights pressed against the cotton that even cold can burn. For her though, I'd walk through the gates of hell itself. I think the worst part is both of us knowing that even if we went through hell, we still couldn't touch for more than a few seconds.
During those tough moments, I focus on the most beautiful thing I've seen. In my room, what used to be my real room, Rogue pursed her lips and blew cold. For that one moment, we both could see our connection. It's that image that stays with me through classes and dreams. It's the one image that keeps the heat from burning me.
