This is a little one-shot that I wrote about Logan and Rogue. I don't know where the idea came from exactly. All I did was write the first line and boom: I had a story. This is an alternate ending for the first X-Men movie. What if Logan hadn't saved Rogue? What if she had died? This is my take on it. Please read and review. I hope you enjoy it. Warning: this is a tear-jerker.

Broken Rain

Logan sat with his back against a tree, ignoring the rain which fell upon him from the dark sky. Sighing, he shifted slightly and then resumed his motionless vigil. Thoughts ran through his head, as gloomy and depressing as the falling rain. I should have been able to save her. I promised I would take care of her. I promised.

He closed his eyes as images flashed through his mind, painful and sharp. Green eyes. A laughing face. Smiling lips. A white streak in her brown hair. A lifeless body in his arms.

Logan felt tears sting his eyes. Something deep in his chest ached. He welcomed the pain. It was no less than he deserved.

He cut the shackles from her arms, holding her limp form in his arms. He fingered the white streak that ran through her beautiful hair. His eyes widened in fear as he felt her stop breathing.

"Rogue?" he queried. "Marie?" He placed his hand on her face, willing her to take his healing power. But nothing happened.

"Come on," he whispered. "Don't do this. Please." He looked into her still face, her still, beautiful face, and knew that she was gone. Tears formed in his eyes. "No." He gently caressed her cheek, feeling how soft her skin was. He had failed her. "NO!" he screamed, falling to his knees. Holding her body close, he wept, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids, her lips.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you, Marie.

A tear rolled down his cheek, mingling with the rain as he remembered. She was gone. He had been too late to save her and now she was . . . dead.

Unbidden, his mind traveled back to the day he had met her, first in the bar and then later in his trailer. To this day, he didn't know why he had stopped the truck and let her hitch along with him. There had just been something about her. Something . . . different. And beautiful.

"So, what kind of name is Rogue?" he asked with a slight quirk of his lips.

"I don't know. What kind of name is Wolverine?" she countered.

He glanced at her. "My name is Logan."

"Marie."

She had been so beautiful in her sad way. Unable to touch others. He had understood her and she had understood him. Why hadn't he seen that his attraction to her was more than just friendship? How could he have been so blind?

"Why?" he howled up at the gray sky. "God, why?" There was no answer other than the sound of rain hitting the trees. Despair welled up in the Wolverine. Numbly, he stared down at his hands, seeing again Rogue's face as she lay in his arms, lifeless, but still so beautiful. Snikt. Three gashes opened on each hand as adamantium claws pressed forward between his knuckles. Logan stared at them.

"When they come out . . . does it hurt?"

"All the time."

Screaming in sorrow, he ripped the claws through his arm, tearing muscle and flesh until the gleam of bone could be seen. I failed her. Blood ran in rivers down his arm and hand as he slashed again and again, reveling in the pain. I failed her. He could almost hear Rogue's voice screaming at him. You failed me! How could you? You promised!

Logan growled as he watched his arm knit itself back together. It wasn't enough. Howling at the pain that was both physical and mental, he slashed at his arms, his legs, his chest. Blood mingled with the rain. You promised. I thought I could trust you. You failed me. I failed her. Marie . . .

A voice, frantic and shocked, broke through the fog of his pain.

"Logan?!" Gasping in pain and despair, Wolverine looked up. It was Storm.

"Go away," Logan growled.

She ignored his order. "What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like?!" Looking away from the white-haired mutant, he continued slashing at his body.

"Stop!" Storm cried. Heedless of her own safety, she ran forward, grabbing his wrists.

"Let me go, 'Roro," Logan said, tortured eyes meeting hers.

"I will if you promise to stop hurting yourself."

"I . . . I can't."

"Why not?"

"I deserve to be in pain! I want to be in pain! I want to die!" He tried to wrench his hands free, but Storm clung on.

"Logan," she said, her voice quiet and soothing, "I want you to stop." Logan stared into her eyes for a long moment before sheathing his claws. Stom released his wrists and the tortured Wolverine instantly buried his face in his hands.

"What's wrong?" Storm asked, concern etched into her voice and face.

The reply was so quiet that she almost didn't hear it. "I failed her. I promised to take care of her and I failed."

A sob rose in Storm's throat as she heard the brokenness in his voice. "It isn't your fault."

"I could have saved her!" Logan cried, lifting his head, eyes dark and haunted. "If I had gotten to her sooner, she could have used my powers to heal herself! Don't you see? I could have saved her."

Tears rose in Storm's eyes as she saw the truth. "You loved her." It wasn't a question and it didn't need an answer. "Logan, I'm so sorry." Wolverine closed his eyes, wishing he could shut out the pain. He pulled his knees up to his chest, trying hard to control himself.

Storm moved closer and pulled Logan into her arms. She felt his whole body shaking as he began to sob brokenly into her shoulder. Rocking gently, Storm cried with him, sharing in his sorrow. And the rain fell on.

The End

Yes, I know it was sad, but I had to write it. And yes, this is a Logan/Marie along with a bit of Storm/Logan if you squint. Please review.