Title: Dreadful Sorry, Clementine
Author: Azora
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Marvel and 20th Century Fox… and Stan Lee is GOD
Rating: PG because the "f" word is in here twice
Summary: Rogue acquires a baby
Feedback: Please please please, constructive feedback very welcome
Author's Note: I'm not usually a happy fiction person, so blame this one on my own daughter, who thinks I'm the shit when I sing.
Logan woke from a deep sleep, heightened hearing not needed to hear the sound of bare feet and the wailing of a child being carried past the door. He waited a few moments, the sound growing quieter as they went down the stairs, then got out of bed and slid his jeans on. He didn't doubt that she could handle things; she'd proven she was more than capable over the last two weeks. It was more that he liked the way she looked with a baby in her arms.
He walked quietly down the stairs, not wanting her to know he was checking up on her. Rounding the corner to the lounge, he realized he could have jumped down the stairs with boots on. The baby was screaming. They sat in the only rocking chair in the house, a leather recliner, gently rocking. A full bottle sat on the table next to the chair. The only light in the room came from the full moon streaming in the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the patio. The moonlight made the white streak in her chestnut hair gleam silver. Her brows were furrowed and her shoulders tense as she whispered gently to the baby.
"So you're not hungry, you're not wet, why are you crying, sugar?" She made quiet shushing noises to the child, who only wailed louder. "I know you and me are both new at this, darlin'. Just bear with me, okay?"
Logan started to step forward, but Rogue spoke again. "I'll sing you a little song. It's not really appropriate, I reckon, but my mama used to sing it to me when I was little." Logan stepped back into the shadows as she began to sing.
"Oh my darlin'Oh my darlin'
Oh my darlin' Clementine
You are lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine"
Her voice was soft and light, and her accent twanged thick in the song. As she sang, Logan watched Rogue begin to relax back into the chair, and the baby responded, her cries less demanding, a pause in between each little surrendering wail.
"Light she was and like a
fairy
And her shoes were number nine
Herring boxes without topses
Sandals were for Clementine"
She sang the chorus again, and the baby grew silent, but Rogue continued to rock and sing to the baby.
"Drove her ducklings to
the water
Every morning just at nine
Hit her foot against a splinter
Fell into the foaming brine
Oh my darlin'
Oh my darlin' Clementine
You are lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine"
Chuck had come into the lounge on a Sunday afternoon, the X-Men gaggle huddled around the television. The race was at Richmond that week. Stupid NASCAR. NASCAR was something Rogue had gotten them all hooked on. Logan thought it was the stupidest thing he'd ever seen: a bunch of old men driving fast in a circle? Give him a good hockey game any day. But it was nice to be in a room with everyone, not worrying about the mission ahead, not wondering who would get hurt this time, so he sat and pretended to be mildly interested. It was also a great opportunity to pick on Rogue and Cyke at the same time; they were both obsessed with the stupid sport. Hank was the only one who remained unaffected, but even he migrated to the lounge on Sunday afternoons, spending his time instead reading, smiling over his book at their antics.
But Chuck had wheeled in to ruin everything. "Jean, I need to talk to you for a moment."
Jean turned to him with a smile, but didn't move from the sofa. She tried to be aloof about it, but she was almost as bad as Scott. "What can I do for you, Charles?"
"It may be better if we speak alone." Chuck's face was somber, and Logan wondered what had him upset. He wasn't telling them to suit up, so it must be minor. Jean immediately got up and followed him into the hallway.
Jean returned a few minutes later, her face as somber as the professor's. "Scott, I need your help."
"What's wrong?" he asked, standing up. "What happened?"
"I'll tell you on the way. We need to go to the city. Hank, can you watch Nate?"
The blue beast was playing with the boy at the table, both of them making silly car noises with their lips. "It would be my pleasure," he answered.
"Jean, don't leave us hanging!" shouted Bobby. "What's going on?"
Jean sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "A baby was born last night at St. Mary's Hospital in Brooklyn. She's apparently a mutant, with her gift already manifested when she was born. She has killed her own mother and two nurses." She looked at Rogue as she spoke. "They can't touch her. They think her skin might be poisonous. The hospital called the police, and one of Charles' informants called him. He thinks we might be able to help."
Jubilee reached over and flipped off the TV. "Jeez, that is horrible."
Rogue stood up. "I want to go."
Scott shook his head. "The less people, the better. The media is probably already there, and I think Jean and I should be able to handle it."
"Scott, I'm going whether you like it or not." Rogue's lips were pursed, her shoulders squared. Logan smiled to himself. The twenty-one year old had a stubborn streak, and when she wanted something bad enough, she refused to back down. Logan had been in Scott's shoes before, and he hoped the man was smart enough to let it go.
He did, but not before pointing a finger at Rogue. "I'm only letting you go because we don't have time for this." He stalked out of the room, Rogue and Jean close behind.
It was after seven when they got home, and Logan was surprised to see a bundle of blankets in Rogue's arms. She and Jean had gone directly down to the lab, leaving a tired Scott to tell the story. He set down a sack full of baby things and flopped into a chair.
"When we got there, it was chaos. The media was everywhere. Someone recognized Jean and figured out why we were there, and practically jumped on us."
"We saw you on the news," stated Bobby. "They assumed you were there to 'protect the rights of the mutant child' and then played a whole bunch of clips from their mutant terrorist file."
"It seems that some individuals think the child should be aborted post-partum," added Hank.
Scott shook his head. "It was just fucked up." Logan raised an eyebrow. Cyke rarely cursed. "They had no clue what to do. The baby's father was sitting in a chair like a zombie. He wouldn't speak to anyone. The kid was in one of those clear bassinets by herself, locked in an isolated room. She was screaming because she was hungry, and everyone was afraid to touch her to feed her." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It was probably a good idea we took Rogue. While Jean and I spoke with the doctors diplomatically, she went right to the room and opened the door. One of the nurses put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and she turned around and pushed her right down on her ass. Rogue went right over and picked up the baby. Then she shouted, 'Someone get me a fucking bottle, right now.'" Scott let out a strained laugh. "That nurse got her ass in gear. Rogue sat right down on the floor in the isolation room and fed the baby. I think if Jean or I had tried that, we would have gotten ourselves arrested. We talked the hospital administration into temporarily releasing her into our care, until they figure out what to do. I think they were happy to see her go."
"So what are they doing downstairs?" Logan asked.
"Jean wants to run a few little tests on her, to see how she's doing it. She wants to make sure the poison can't soak through clothing."
Logan's eyes narrowed. "You tellin' me you weren't sure about that and you let Rogue fuckin' hold her all the way back?"
Scott stared at Logan. "First, the baby rode in a car seat. Second, I haven't been able to tell that girl a thing since we left here. She won't listen to me at all."
"She feels a kinship with the baby," added Jean, walking in the room. She looked as worn out as Scott. "She wants to take care of the baby for now, and she's upstairs with Charles to plead her case." She grabbed Scott's hand. "I think she's determined. Could you go get Nate's bassinet out of the storage closet and take it up to Rogue's room?"
Scott turned to her, surprised. "I guess I thought we'd take care of her. Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"No, not really. But Rogue's careful. She doesn't want to hurt the baby anymore than she wants to get hurt. She wants this bad, and her heart is in the right place. I think Charles will give in to her." She cocked her head to the side, listening. "Yup, he's decided. She can take care of the baby." Scott nodded, and left the room in search of the bassinet.
"Is she in any danger?" Logan asked. She wasn't a kid anymore, but that didn't mean he had to stop watching out for her.
"I'll be honest with you, Logan, I don't know. The baby doesn't secrete the poison, so it looks like it's only skin to skin contact that is the problem. Hank and I will run more tests tomorrow. It's late tonight. The baby needs her rest." Jean shook her head. "Poor Rogue doesn't know what she's in for."
That was an understatement. Rogue had a hard time for the next two weeks, but Logan watched her attack it with the same stubborn streak she had used to make Scott back down. Jean and Scott were there to answer her questions, and everyone else pitched in to help. Bobby learned how to change a diaper with latex gloves on, and Logan was surprised to learn he knew how to burp a baby. "Done this before, sugar?" she had asked with a wink. Logan had shrugged. If he had, he certainly didn't remember.
She read the books and learned as she went. The sight of Rogue with the baby in a carrier against the front of her chest became familiar around the mansion. She became less surly, less antagonistic. She was not the same Rogue who had thrown a beer can at the wall during a Saturday night game of Trivial Pursuit. She was learning patience. She was growing up.
She refused to give the baby a name, even a nickname. "She doesn't belong to us," she would say. "If we give her a name, it will be harder to let her go."
Jean and Hank had concluded that the poison was a biological substance produced by her body, similar to the venom poisonous snakes produce, and unique to her. Hank started working immediately to create an anti-venom, if possible. They wouldn't be able to take the poison out of the baby's skin, but at least no one would die if there were a mistake.
Other than the poison, she was a normal baby girl.
Jean had reported their findings to the baby's father. He had listened, accepted, and then flat out refused to see her. Two days later, Charles had announced that the father wanted to give her up for adoption, Logan had not been surprised when Rogue demanded the right. Six had met in Charles' office to discuss the matter: Rogue; Scott, Jean, and the professor to talk her out of it; Logan, finally needed again for protection and support; and the little girl herself.
Charles began. "Rogue, I do not believe that this is the right time in your life to take on such an overwhelming amount of responsibility. You are due back at college in August. I would hate to see you throw your academic career away."
"I've already thought about this. I'll take the fall semester off. Working moms have children all the time, and they don't have an entire house full of babysitters willing to help 'em out. I can go to classes during the day and come home at night."
"You have so much on your plate already," Scott added. "With school, the Saturday self-defense class you're teaching, and the X-Men, how can you find the time to be a mother, too?"
Rogue rolled her eyes. "Nate's almost two, Scott, and you and Jean had much more 'on your plates' than I do. And look, you managed to get through it just fine."
"But there were two of us, Rogue." Jean's voice was softer. She knew how mothers felt about their children. "You are just one person."
Logan put a reassuring hand on Rogue's shoulder. "Jean, I may not be married, but I have all of you." She put her gloved hand on top of Logan's. "I have all of you to support me." She took a deep breath and threw in her trump card. "It is more than possible I will never have children of my own. You all know this. Even if I was to get pregnant, how do we know the baby won't react to my skin? It's not a risk I'm willing to take. That is not something I could live with.
"And here is a child who can't be touched! This is so right. I will know how she feels. I can help her through this. You all know this is the right thing to do."
Jean was smiling, Scott looked skeptical, and the professor looked pained. "Even if I agreed, which I do not yet, I do not think it will be easy for a twenty-one year old unmarried woman to adopt a child."
Rogue smiled. "You've got more friends in high places than the Lord himself. I think you can find a way."
"Ruby lips above the water
Blowing bubbles soft and fine
But, alas,I was no swimmer
So I lost my Clementine
Oh my darlin'
Oh my darlin'
Oh my darlin' Clementine
You are lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine."
Logan walked into the room.
"How long you been there, sugar?" she asked softly.
"Long enough." He brushed an errant hair behind her ear, careful not to touch her face.
"You're not gonna call her that, are you?"
"What, Clementine? Oh, christ, no." She laughed quietly. "Hank suggested Cleopatra, since she got bit by a poisonous snake. I think he might have been serious."
Logan sat down on the edge of the coffee table at Rogue's feet. "Jubilee and Bobby were throwing around some horrid ones at dinner tonight. I think they decided Freida was pretty good."
Rogue shook her head, chuckling. "I'll decide before I sign the final paperwork, of course. I just don't know yet." She looked down at the bundle. "Oh, you have got to be kiddin' me, sugar!" She sighed, smiling at Logan. "She's still got her nights and days mixed up. She's drivin' me crazy!"
Logan stood and down at the little girl. She stared back, wide awake, her already brown eyes almost black in the moonlight. He smiled. The baby smiled back.
"Hey!" protested Rogue. "I didn't know she could do that yet!" She rubbed a gloved finger against the baby's cheek. "You're supposed to give your first smile to your mama, darlin'."
Logan sat back down on the coffee table as Rogue began rocking again, humming the song softly under her breath. Slowly the little girl's eyes began to droop, and Rogue gave him a knowing smile.
He watched them rock, his untouchables. The girl-child that had turned into a woman and her soon-to-be daughter.
Both could kill you with a touch.
Or lay claim to your heart with a smile.