Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men movies or characters. Any unrecognized plot or characters are mine.
Prologue
Fear. Adrenaline.
It was on their faces and pumping through their veins as they huddled together in groups.
The children had been rescued from captivity, but now they were facing a bigger threat. The dam had broken and every drop of water within was converging on then with a vengeance.
The jet was damaged and refusing to start.
They were running out of time.
From the look on Jean's face and the lingering bit of telepathy Rogue had gained by a small touching incident a week past, she knew what the older woman was planning.
Jean had a fiancé, Logan was in love with her, a mansion full of children and adults adored her. The professor saw her as a daughter he never had, her death would destroy him. Destroy them.
What did Rogue have?
Bobby was a nice boy and he liked her, sure, but she could tell that the permanent no touching aspect of their relationship bothered him even though he adamantly denied it. Logan saw her as a kid, he mostly spent his tine longing for Jean and on the road searching for answers to the fifteen year old question.
The trade made sense. Jean had more to live for.
So, when Jean made her attempt to sneak off, Rogue was waiting. She grabbed the telepath, a gloved hand covered her mouth to silence user gasps and the bare hand clutching her wrist, drawing everything she could without killing the older woman.
Once Jean lost consciousness, Rogue guided her into an empty seat near the rear of the plane and strapped her in.
She glanced toward the cockpit, trying to find a familiar rugged face among the mixed crowd of adults and teens. Logan, Storm, Scott and the professor were frantically working on getting the jet to power up with no success.
Leaving the plane undetected, easy. So easy it almost hurt that she was able to slip away to her death while no one noticed. It was for the best, because if she did, she would succeed.
Leaving the people inside the plane, harder.
Harder, but necessary. She reminded herself as she walked further from the jet, placing her body as a shield between the dam and the plane.
Staring at the enormous wall of water as she strained to keep it at bay, absolutely terrifying.
"Come on. Come on!" She growled through clenched teeth, forcing the damaged jet's systems to online and the engine to start.
She could feel Kurt trying to teleport and clamped firmly down on his location, keeping him in place.
You can stop this, Rogue. Come back inside. The Professors voice echoed through her head, pleading.
"I can't let you die." She replied, tears leaking from her eyes. "This is the only way to keep all of you safe."
What about you? We can't leave you here to die. The professor insisted.
You can. You have to. She whispered back.
She steeled her resolve, lifting the jet to a safe height. Lifting the people she loved further and further away from Alkali Lake.
Rogue, please! Professor Xavier begged, in a last ditch effort to change her mind.
Take care of the big lug for me. Rogue whispered into Professor Xavier and Scott's minds.
Then, the faces of everyone at the mansion flitting through her head like a slide show, she let go.
Three weeks later. . .
Professor Xavier was sitting in his study sipping a cup of Earl Grey tea when he felt the gentle nudge of a familiar mind outside his door. "Come in."
Ororo opened the door, her expression equal parts concerned and sad. "Logan has returned from his. . .trip."
Ah. That is what is troubling the younger mutant.
"How bad was the damage?" He asked reluctantly.
"I haven't compled the tally from his last unannounced departure. He's not any closer to control or even slowing down in the slightest. If he keeps going on like this, he could cause some real harm, Charles. We're lucky it's only cage fights in Canada with a crowd as rough as he was when we found him and complaints from the owners of not being able to refill the alcohol he practically bathes in."
"I would stop him before it ever went too far, Ororo. For now, I will allow him to grieve in the only way he knows how."
Meanwhile on the other side of the mansion. . .
Logan sat on the bed, staring at the wall.
Everything looked the same as she left it. The maps on the corkbaord held red string and multicolored thumb tacks with pictures beside them of buildings and landscapes. Three had rivers or waterfalls.
She told him once that it was the original route she had planned to travel before she ran away, only with a few new additions she had discovered she liked along the way. She had met him at one of the stops farther up on the map, a stop she hadn't meant to be so long or life changing.
The harsh lump in his throat burned without mercy.
It wasn't fair.
He shouldn't be here, sitting on her bed gawking at her dreams. Hell, he shouldn't be drawing a damn breath! She should be alive, packing her textbooks into her bookbag for class or just plain packing for the adventure she always wanted to embark on.
She wasn't.
Marie was gone.
It should have been him. He was the monster from human children's nightmares. He had killed, maimed and done other things that were damning on a humans soul. He didn't deserve to live. She did.
The feral fell on his knees, ignoring the still healing cracked ribs broken collarbone punctured kidney, and wept.