Chapter 4: Lonely

Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, who have encouraged me to update with this little chappy. Now, this is relatively short chapter, I know, but to make up for it, I'm gonna post chapter #5 right after this. But I found out I need a new router and cable connecter thingy, so I'm back to posting at the library. This is really just an add-on to my previous chapter, but I didn't think I was quite done with Rogue, and I couldn't leave it like it was, so here's the next chappy. Enjoy!

Everything inside her was dead. She was dead. But for some reason, she wasn't anywhere but here, in this danger-room replica. She couldn't leave. Whatever was trapping her here wouldn't let her leave. If she thought about leaving, or came to the edge of the roses, she would freeze, lost in time. Everything would stop, like in a photograph, time at a halt. She sat in the center of her wall-less prison, and thought about those at the school. Especially Logan. For some reason, her mind would wander to the thought of him, warming her at the remembrance of his chiseled face. Every detail was perfect.

It hurt too much to think of him. It hurt too much to think of what she had lost.

She slumped over, and curled up into a ball. There was nothing left inside her. She was gone. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and she stared into the fiery wasteland, where she'd heard him say her name last.

Logan.

Rogue noticed something though the corner of her eye as she lay in the ground, and shifted her head to face it. It was that damn bowl again. She fought the urge to smash it like its predecessor, and sat up a little more. Hadn't it done enough damage already? What the hell did it want from her now?

Cautiously, she slipped over to where it sat on the roses. Rogue tucked her hair behind her ears nervously, and licked her lips in agitation.

She seated herself in front of it and gripping the sides, she peered over the rim into that, blue, soft water. She saw a flicker of an image, and concentrated harder on the water, wanting more than what she was getting. A soft whooshing nose caused her to blink, and she lost sight of the water. Shutting her eyes, she prayed this vision would be more useful than the last one. Opening her eyes, she saw herself on the grounds of the school. It was a crisp, sunny autumn day, and the grass was still a swollen green colour. Rogue was surrounded by students, and waded through them to get to what they were all staring at. On the way through, she passed many kids she'd known, a lot of them crying. Others were staring blank eyed at attention. Rogue felt herself less compelled to find out what they were looking at, but more so at locating those whom she'd known.

Slowly, she circled the group, counting off mentally those she'd known, and felt remorse fill her as she saw Kitty leaning on Warren, sobbing. It was then when it hit her where she was: her funeral. Pushing her way to the front, her breath caught as she saw a gleaming mahogany casket in the center of the group, covered in flowers. A waiting hole was in the ground nearby, and she saw in the very front the rest of her most dear friends: Storm, who was giving a speech at a podium, and next to her sat Hank, Jubes, now Kitty and Warren to one side, and Logan. She paused when her eyes fell on his face, and felt her heart break when she saw the unmasked tears streaking down his face. He was crying for her.

She wanted more than anything to run up to him, and hug him, and have him call her 'kid' again, but she brushed this hope away. This was her funeral for chrissake, and he wouldn't feel her anyway. A hollow feeling drained into her, and she knew she needed to go. She'd seen every body but…

Bobby. Where the hell was he anyway? Didn't he come?

She twisted her head to where she saw a brisk movement, and saw a couple disappear through an arch. Squirming through the masses of mourners, she raced to catch up to where she saw the people leave.

Finally, she came up in sight of them, and froze at the sight. It was Bobby, all right. He and that girl, the one she'd caught him with. Rogue thought her name was Jenny, or something. They were parked on a bench, with that Jenny-person crawling on top of him.

She edged closer, and saw her smile and press her tongue in his mouth, his arms sliding up her back, pulling her closer. Rogue was rooted with horror, as she saw them go farther and farther, until she couldn't bear to see them anymore.

Turning, she ran, passing the funeral service, tears finally creeping out. She pushed herself to go faster, and reached the steep ledge that hung over a deep valley. Not even caring, she ran off, and felt the ground flying up to meet her. She was already dead, inside and out. How could this make it any worse?

She sighed, and shut her eyes. He didn't even come to say goodbye. It was her funeral, and he didn't even come to at least watch. Rather, he was with his new girlfriend, that Jenny chick, doing her, and not even caring she, Rogue, his old girlfriend, was dead.

She succumbed to these thoughts, and after a while began to wonder why there was no ground. Opening her eyes, she saw she was no longer at the mansion, but in her rose prison again.

Figures. Once you're dead, you're dead. I wonder if this is how Logan feels sometimes. To want to die, but not be able to. To want stronger pain, but not be able to fully forget everything. To always have to wake up and face it all over again.

Rogue wished she could somehow wind back time, and just be there for Logan somehow. If only he could just hear his voice again…

Rogue.

She sat up rigidly, and glanced around. Oh no, not this again.

Rogue. Rogue.

Okay, this time she knew she heard something. Was it… Could it be…

"Logan?"

"Rogue? Rogue? ROGUE? Can you hear me Rogue? Rogue, it's Logan! Rogue!"

"Logan? Logan, it's not you, is it? It can't be. I'm dead."

Okay, I know this wasn't as good of an ending as the last one, but I think' it'll do. Now, I gotta go, so I'll see y'all! Review my Lovelies!