-A/N-: Hopefully you'll find this a little more cheerful than the previous chapter.
Handing out cookies to the following: Mrs. St. John Allerdyce, BitterSweet Amusement, andie sky, Fallen Heart, lonley weeper, we-r-the-cure, preciousbabyblue, mea-kh, Forget-Me-Nots and Marigolds, Xaris Fishie, pat-nosferatu, tanza, yaba, swtxassxaznxgurl, Liz Wyatt.
---
She had been gazing blankly at the clock on her bedside table for quite awhile through the darkness. It was as though she was mesmerized by the glowing numbers that reflected into her eyes. But in truth, her mind was elsewhere, a whirl of colours, faces and scenes of the past.
She blinked when those luminous, green numbers changed. It was finally twelve in the morning.
Inhaling deeply, she paused for a moment, as though waiting for something to happen. Nothing. She frowned deeply. I don't feel any different. She didn't know why she was expecting a change. Oh what the hell.
With a resolute sigh, she tossed her warm bed covers aside and got out of bed, sauntering over to her lone bedroom window.
Throwing it open, she took in a deep breath of cold, crisp air. The bright, silver moon was clearly seen in the night sky as it bathed the girl in soft, pale light, boldly illuminating the snow-white lock of hair that stood out starkly from the rest.
For days now, she'd had trouble falling asleep. And every night she would follow this senseless ritual, turning to her open window for inner peace, bathing herself in the moon's glow and attempting to clear her mind of unwanted thoughts. As though it were the answer to her miserable, sleepless nights.
But all the time she would have this inner-conflict, an inner-battle with herself, as though pushing away unwelcome memories only brought more to her mind.
Eyes sweeping the moonlit gardens below, Rogue, for a fleeting instant, contemplated sneaking out of the compound yet again- this time, before anyone woke up and had the chance to stop her. She wondered whether she would, if she did, chance upon meeting up with him again.
Her thoughts flashed back to that recent encounter she had at that particular bus stop. Had it already been over a week ago? Rogue wasn't quite sure. Hell, every night the thoughts of their 'reunion' came back to haunt her. She would sometimes end up in tears for reasons unknown to her. As the scenes involving him and her replayed themselves over and over again in her head, she would oftentimes be left feeling rueful, angry and most of all, upset.
Were she to fall asleep now, she knew what her dreams would paint in her mind.
Him.
And the simple things that he did to make her feel what she was feeling right now. The burning of the photograph, the simple hug they shared, the long walk in his company… his dark, brown eyes…
…Him.
After a long moment, she pulled the window shut and crawled back under the covers of her bed. It's going to be one hell of a long day once the sun rises, she told herself as she looked at her clock with unfocused eyes.
12:50 a.m.
Well, I still don't feel any different…Shutting her eyes tight, she tried to drift to sleep, knowing full well of the dreams that awaited her… Dreams of the one person she knew she would never be able to be with.
---
Bang, bang, bang!
"Rogue! Do you know what time it is? It's past noon! Get up! Like, now!"
She opened one bleary eye and shut it almost immediately as the glaring afternoon sunlight filtered through her windows and blinded her.
Shit. Overslept.
She realized that she'd been doing that quite a lot these few days due to sleepless nights.
The sound of loud banging at your door while you were deep in sleep was not a pleasant thing to wake up to, as Rogue so unfortunately realized.
She tried to resist the urge to shout a loud 'go away!' at the inconsiderate idiot who thought it would be nice to disturb her from her fitful sleep.
"Rogue! Hello? Did you die in your sleep or something?"
She recognized that voice.
Damn that Jubilee…
Slowly, her mind was waking up but all the while, all she wanted to do was to just go back to sleep, till dinnertime if she needed. But the person outside got all the more impatient and if she stalled any longer, she was sure Jubilee would break her door down.
"What do you want? If it's not important, go away," Rogue snapped finally, trying not to sound too hostile but failing terribly.
There was a pause from the other side of the door and for a second, Rogue thought she had been successful in getting the message across that she didn't want to be disturbed. And then…
"Everyone's been waiting for you to get up! Just thought I'd, you know, be the first to wish you happy birthday. It is your birthday today you know? And yeah, to give you your present…" There was a pause, "I'm sorry. I could always… I'll come back later…" The girl outside sounded almost hurt by Rogue's outburst.
All Rogue could hear then was the reverberating footsteps of Jubilee walking down the hallway. She almost wanted to shout out an apology and get her to come back, but she didn't. She was too preoccupied by the fact that there were people who actually remembered what day it was. She paused at the thought. Maybe someone had told everyone about it. Bloody hell. Her eyes narrowed.
After a hasty trip to the bathroom, putting on something casual and having a brief look at herself in the mirror, Rogue yanked open her bedroom door and made her way to the kitchens.
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and she encountered no one on the way there. Which wasn't odd. After all, who would be staying indoors on a weekend with such perfect weather outside?
As she entered the mansion kitchens, the first thing she noticed was the fact that there were two people in there, idly chitchatting away. The blue guy and the guy with wings. She knew both of them, but she never really had much of a chance to get to know them. Just a couple of conversations and that was about it.
"Ah, the birthday girl!" the blue guy said grandly, ambling up to Rogue.
She could only nod mutely as Henry McCoy shook her hand cheerfully and gave her a huge, friendly hug. No way in hell would these people have known without someone telling them.
"Um… Thanks, Dr. McCoy," she said after the Beast let go.
"Hank," he corrected her, his eyes twinkling, "just Hank."
"Hank," Rogue echoed with a nod and a smile before turning to Warren, who had followed behind Henry.
Warren was a little more discrete in wishing her a happy birthday, being the reserved man he was. He shook her hand politely with a small, almost shy, smile.
"I don't suppose either of you would actually tell me who made it all public?" she asked the two while making herself a cup of black coffee.
Warren shrugged, looking seemingly uncomfortable. As though it were all meant to be kept a secret. But Henry just laughed.
"I would tell you, Rogue. I really would. But I think the question should best be left unanswered. I doubt the boy would be very happy with me if I told you."
Rogue could only stare blankly at the blue beast. Boy?
"Well, if you'll excuse me," Henry said after a moment, making his way towards the door, "I've got some business to attend to… and before you start prying for more information, or names," he added slyly, "I'll be off."
And before they knew it, he had disappeared around the corner.
Only to reappear again to say, "Oh and Rogue, Ororo told me there's going to be a little, ah, cake-cutting celebration after dinner tonight held in honour of your birthday. Thought you might like to know."
And he was gone again.
"Is he being serious?" Rogue said finally, turning to Warren.
"Yeah, and everyone knows. It's been going around."
She looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
"Don't look at me," the Angel said defensively, "I didn't plan this."
-
Night fell and as soon as dinner was over, Ororo had called everyone into the living room. Rogue was pretty sure everything had been rigged. Set up. Planned from the very beginning. An attempt to lighten her spirits. After all, someone must have noticed her mood in the past week.
But she wasn't complaining. If anything, she was deeply surprised. But not in a bad way.
The cake-cutting ceremony had been short and loud and full of liveliness. But Rogue couldn't help but feel an odd sense of detachment from it all. The sounds, the laughter and the looks on many of the young mutants' faces. They all seemed to faintly register in her mind as though she were dimly aware of them.
As the knife finally sank into the cake, the room erupted into applause.
"Happy birthday, Rogue," Ororo said loudly with a broad smile.
Rogue smiled back feebly, not knowing what else to say. What was there to say? It was at least the hundredth time someone wished her a happy birthday and all she could do was say 'thank you'…
Everyone had a piece of the huge cake. Well, almost everyone. Rogue refused at first, but Logan had forced her to have some, saying that it was only customary for the birthday girl to at least have some of the birthday cake.
After the festivity died down, Ororo had chased most of the young mutants to bed, reminding them that the very next day was indeed a Monday and that school resumes as per normal. Thus, the room cleared out without delay, albeit with a lot of them grumbling audibly.
"I've kinda' wished you before but umm… happy birthday, Rogue," one of the young mutants said quietly as she passed her on the way out.
Rogue looked at the young girl and forced a smile. "Thanks Siryn… Goodnight."
The girl smiled back shyly.
Moments passed and the only people left in the room now were herself, Logan, Ororo, Bobby, Kitty, Jubilee, Peter, Hank McCoy and Warren. The room seemed so much quieter than it was. Too quiet. Rogue grew restless.
"Um… So if you guys don't mind, I'll be off to bed now…?" Rogue said uncertainly, looking to Ororo.
The weather manipulator gave Rogue an amused smile. "We didn't get those children to leave for nothing you know?"
"Yeah, guess what?" Jubilee was grinning and excitement was building in her voice, "We've all got presents to give you!"
Rogue was tempted to laugh. A little gift-unwrapping session, huh? Should've guessed.
"Great! I actually have presents!" Rogue said, feigning enthusiasm. Somehow, she felt there was a hidden note of sarcasm in her voice. And she had no idea why.
"Here! Open mine first!" Jubilee exclaimed, shoving a brightly-wrapped box into her hands. It was no bigger than her palm.
Logan snorted at Jubilee's zest and zeal.
Glancing at the bubbly girl skeptically, Rogue ripped the wrappings from the box and opened it.
"Oh. Wow. A box of nail polish."
Rogue was close to speechless.
And she was pretty sure that her speechlessness wasn't because she was blown away by the gift.
But Jubilee didn't seem to know the difference and she beamed at Rogue's stunned expression.
"Thanks, Jubes. It's," Pause. "Uh… great!" Not really.
"I knew you'd like it!"
Rogue smiled wanly at the pyrotechnic projector. Riiight.
Logan approached her next, looking quite abashed as he passed her an untidily wrapped parcel, characteristic of the Wolverine.
"Just a little something for you, kid. Happy birthday."
Rogue took the parcel out of his hands and slowly unwrapped it. It turned out to be a huge scented candle.
"Oh wow. You got me something that could very well potentially burn this mansion to the ground."
Logan gave a short laugh, catching the humour in her voice. "Yeah, well, if that's what you want…" he said suggestively, grinning.
Rogue smiled. "And it's pink," she noted, turning the clump of wax about in her hand.
"I would've got you a black one. Only, they didn't have any."
Rogue could tell he was joking and laughed softly, going up to the man and giving him a hug.
"Thanks, Logan."
"No problem, kid."
Ororo gave her a beautiful silver necklace with a lightning bolt as a pendant. Henry McCoy got her a cool music CD. Warren, a box of chocolates.
Bobby gave her a present too; a carefully wrapped box full of different-sized photographs of themselves when they had been more than friends. There was no birthday kiss from him however; nor any birthday hugs. She pulled a picture out at random and gazed at it. It jumped out at Rogue, as though that very memory was being replayed in her mind. Bobby had his arm draped over her and they were both laughing, looking so very carefree and happy. But there was something else. Someone else. He was standing to the far left, almost cut off from the photograph entirely. It clearly looked as though he felt left out. Abandoned. A third wheel.
She threw the photograph back into the box.
Bobby was eyeing her intently with those worryful eyes of his, as though analyzing her expressions. She wondered whether he had given her all those pictures because he couldn't bare to keep them anymore. Fixing a rueful smile on her face, she set the box down beside her and thanked Bobby all the same.
Before he could even mutter a 'you're welcome', she had moved on to Peter's gift. He got her a…
"… A hairdryer?" Rogue said in disbelief, staring at the huge man.
"Hey," he protested, "I have no idea what to get girls for their birthdays. Don't blame me!"
Kitty giggled at that before taking out a present of her own.
"Here, Rogue, I've got one for you too," she said quietly, handing her a neatly wrapped package.
Rogue's eyes flitted briefly to Bobby before unwrapping the gift.
She was speechless at what lay before her.
She wasn't at all good at thank yous and she felt she really needed to thank the girl. But all she managed was a soft 'oh gosh…'
Kitty smiled knowingly.
"I know how much you love leather."
Rogue nodded mutely as she slipped both the leather gloves on. They fit perfectly. She knew she didn't have a need to wear them anymore, in fact she used to hate to wear them when she was forced to (so as not to kill people of course). But since the suppression of her mutant ability, she felt a certain fondness for them.
"Kitty…" Rogue started.
"No need to thank me," the girl said, smiling, "Bobby suggested it."
For a second, all Rogue could do was stare blankly at her. Now this revelation had changed things. Bobby had suggested it? So what now? Should she be thankful for that? Or should she feel cheated that Kitty had given something to her on behalf of Bobby? In truth, Rogue felt ready to rip off the gloves and throw them in his face. So now they go around thinking of what to get people for birthdays together? What the hell?
She shook her head and plastered a smile onto her face. "Yeah, well, thanks then. To you both." Her voice sounded hollow and vacant.
And that was the last one.
Faking a yawn, Rogue gathered her gifts, and with her last show of gratitude, excused herself from the living room, saying she was tried.
"You guys have been great. Seriously," she said over her shoulder as she stumbled out of the living room, arms full of stuff.
"Sure you don't need help with those?"
"No, thanks Jubes. I'll be fine."
"You sure?"
"I said I'm fine."
The room fell silent.
Rogue hurried out.
When she was finally in the privacy of her bedroom, Rogue dumped her items on her bed. And then, as an after thought, placed each of them neatly in a row on her shelf. The nail polish, the box of chocolates, the silver necklace, the hairdryer, the music CD, the box of photographs… She placed the scented candle on her bedside table next to her alarm clock.
9:45 p.m.
Realizing she still had the leather gloves on, she took them off and carelessly tossed them onto her desk. And then, she flung herself onto her bed, sighing wearily.
It wasn't as though she didn't enjoy her day. In fact, she was quite content. Why wouldn't she be? It was her birthday. So why did she feel so lonely throughout the ordeal? Why did she feel so empty right now? Like a part of her was missing?
Sliding off her bed, she wandered over to her window once again like she did every night. She threw it open, greeting the rush of cold air.
She was genuinely surprised when she found a tiny parcel perched on her windowsill, very immaculately wrapped in brown paper. Who…?
Rogue reached out to grab the package. It was small and light. And there was a small message tagged onto the parcel. Her breath caught as she read it.
'thought i'd forget?'
And she read it again, gripping the small object tight.
Her fingers trembled as they slid along the parcel's length. Finally, as though mustering enough courage, she unwrapped it.
There, in her palm, sat John's silver chrome lighter. The one he had carried with him all the time, forever snapping it open and closed.
His voice came back to her, echoing in her head.
'That zippo's always with me, no matter what replaces it. It's like…'
"Like a part of him," Rogue whispered to herself, remembering.
She lit it nimbly and stared into the flames for a long while.
Silent tears, illuminated by the glow of the fire, slid down her cheeks. But she was smiling.
-
That night, she slept with ease as the metallic zippo sat on her bedside table. Between her and the glowing numbers of her clock.
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-A/N-: Say it with me! 'Awwww…'
This particular chapter focused on Rogue (if you didn't notice). The next one focuses on our fire-crazy mutant. This fic's almost done.
Just curious, do you guys prefer a happy ending or a sad one? Or a sad but happy ending?