Snoob:  I figured most people would assume it was going to be Bobby.  Say, you plan on writing any more X-men fics yourself?

Blix:  '…stick up his butt': lol, that's about how he seemed in the movies.  Yet, I didn't have any major problem with him.  He just needed to lighten up.

Vegeta:  Of course that's all that matters!  Logan and Rogue are so precious to me!  Lol.  Yet…

Wapps:  Scott won't be the only one to die in this story.  I hope you aren't too attached to any certain character.

Julie:  Of course I'll finish it since you asked so nicely.  Lol.

Allyanna:  Can I call you Ally?  Anyway, sorry this is so behind, but I didn't get your review until just now.  Anyway, I'm glad you like the plot.  I hope it's original enough to keep your interest.

Solidea:  Thanks!  I hope you keep enjoying it!

Crystal:  I want to eventually get them to Africa, but we'll see how things go.  Thanks for the review!

Chapter Nine

Safe No More

Part One

He lay awake on the floor listening to the eerie silence of the African jungle wondering why the usual sounds of the nocturnal animals were mute.  Bobby hoisted himself up with his elbows and glanced around the tiny hut he shared with more than a dozen children.  All the kids were asleep, but some were restless – and rightfully so.  Bobby himself hadn't gotten a decent night of sleep since this living nightmare had started the night Rogue had been attacked.

Thinking of Rogue made Bobby nostalgic.  They hadn't officially broken off their relationship, but over the years they had grown further and further apart.  Rogue was barely the woman she had been: no longer shy and hesitant, but forward, and her beliefs darkened with hatred.

Bobby quietly climbed to his feet, careful not to disturb the distraught children as he tiptoed out of their housing into the cool night.  He wandered towards the center of the village where a large fire pit was dug into the earth.  He wasn't too surprised to see Kurt perched on one of the giant logs that served as a bench, his rosary clenched in his hand.

Bobby reverently sat down next to his friend, politely listening to the transporter's muttered prayer.  It was spoken purely in German, but was beautiful nevertheless: maybe even more so since the words flowing gracefully from Kurt's mouth were mystical and enchanting.  When Kurt finally kissed his rosary at the closing of his prayer, Bobby asked softly, "What did you pray for?"

"Frieden," Kurt whispered.  "Peace."

"We'll need another prayer," Professor Xavier murmured mournfully as he wheeled his chair over the uneven terrain.  His expression was etched with pain and sorrow, his eyes dark with grief.

Bobby felt his stomach drop.  "What's wrong, professor?"

"I'm afraid that we have yet to locate Storm."  Tears stung at the aging man's eyes.  "But I have worse news.  I just received a transmission from Logan."

Bobby feared the worst.  Please, dear God, not Rogue.

"Scott was shot down at the pick-up."

"Iz he all right," Kurt asked, holding his rosary up to his chest.

The professor, stricken with anguish at the loss of a son, could only shake his head.

"Ye, obwohl ich durch das Tal des Schattens von Tod ich laufe," Kurt glanced at the other men and grinned sheepishly, starting again in English:  "Ye, t'ough I walk t'rough de valley of de shadow of death, I shall feel no evil for thout art wit me."

Xavier's head jerked up, his expression shifting to one of horror.  "They're coming," he cried out.  "We have to get the children out!"

"Who," Bobby exclaimed, panic welling up inside him at the image of the X-men leader's terrorized face.

Xavier, yearning to leap off his chair and gather up his surviving children, peered up at Iceman as calmly as he could force his nerves to be.  "They followed us here.  And now they're coming with troops to eradicate us."

"Why," Kurt asked.  "We no harm to dem here."

Xavier closed his eyes regretfully.  He shouldn't have come with the children.  "They're after me," he explained.  "I'm a threat to them."

Part Two

Logan repeatedly glanced over at the quiet woman beside him.  She was balled up against the door, peering out into the world as the scenery whizzed by.  They hadn't spoken since Scott's sacrifice, his death to raw and painful.  They had agreed without words to leave one of the trucks behind in the cemetery.  Neither wanted the other out of sight.

Logan floated his hand across the seats, caressing her arm before taking hold of one of her gloved hands.  He gave a gentle squeeze and her fingers tightened around his.  She sighed and whispered, "I can't believe this is happening.  I can't believe that Xavier's in Africa, Storm is missing, Scott is-is…gone, and we're now stranded in America with nowhere to go and no one to trust."

"We've got each other," Logan murmured soothingly.

Rogue smiled faintly, finally tearing her eyes away from the window in order to gaze at him.  "Yeah, at least we've got that.  I don't know what I would've done if I were facing this alone."

"I never would've left without you."

"I know.  And I wouldn't have left without you."

Logan's lips tugged slightly at the hint of a grin, but thought to himself:  If I must, I will force you to leave me behind.

Hours slipped by before they switched roles, Rogue now at the wheel, driving aimlessly across the country.  "Where are we headed?  We can't keep driving forever.  We need a destination."

"Africa," Logan grumbled, still struggling with sleep.  He needed to stay alert.  "We need to get to Africa."

"And how the hell do you suppose we do that?  Neither of us can fly.  And we don't know where Storm is."

"You can fly.  You did it at Alkali Lake."

Rogue snorted.  'That wasn't flying, Logan.  I merely pushed some buttons and moved the stick around.  I had no idea what I was doing."

Rogue tried covering a yawn, but Logan noticed.  "I think it's safe to stop for a few hours.  We're both tired and could use some sleep."

"No, I'm…" this time the yawn overtook her and she giggled softly.  "Ok, but only for a few hours."

She pulled into the nearest motel and cut the engine.  She sat staring at the office, nervous about going in.  "Logan, what are we going to do about I.D.?  If he finds out we're mutants…" she let her sentence hang.

Logan shook his head, waving off her concerns.  "Don't worry about it.  Let me handle it.  You stay here."  Logan climbed out of the truck and stiffly strolled into the building.

Rogue watched him talk to the clerk.  Logan pointed to her in the truck and she quirked her eyebrow, wondering what spin of lies he was creating.  Ten minutes later he came trekking back out, key in hand.  He hopped back into the truck.  "Go around back," he ordered gruffly, disgusted him self.

"What did you tell him?"  Rogue's curiosity was tormenting her.

"Nothing," he grumbled.

Part Three

Rogue eyed the one bed in the room and then her eyes snapped up as Logan came out of the bathroom, his hair spiked and dripping wet.  He had redressed into his jeans and white t-shirt and Rogue was overwhelmed with gratitude.  "So," she mumbled.  "Which side do you want?"

Logan grunted, walking to the window and peeking out of the drapes.  "I'll take the chair," he said disinterestedly.  It wasn't as though he planned on sleeping much.

Rogue pulled her auburn hair out of its ponytail, wisps of white and reddish-brown flowing down her back.  "Don't be ridiculous.  This is a large enough bed and we're both…" she cringed, staring down at her gloved hands.  "Oh.  I see."

Logan whipped his head around, his eyes narrowed with confusion.

Rogue lowered herself to the lumpy mattress, crinkling the crisp floral comforter.  "I promise I won't touch you.  I hardly move in my sleep.  And I'll keep my gloves on; even my socks."

Logan chuckled.  "Nah, kid, it ain't that."  He approached her and ran a hand through her silky hair.  "I'm not afraid of you, Rogue."  He tenderly pinched the cloth of her glove between two fingers and painstakingly pulled it off, her soft hand gliding easily out of its confinement.  He then did the same to her other glove, never breaking eye contact with her.  "You don't need these," he murmured, tossing them onto the bedside table.

Rogue gazed into his warm brown eyes, heat flowing through her blood and settling in her abdomen.  "Logan," she murmured, searching his face.

"Shh, Marie," Logan whispered, his voice husky and thick.  He caressed her face and then stepped back, feeling the empty space between them widen.  "We need our sleep."

Rogue nodded mutely and crawled under the blankets.

Suddenly, a burst of light blasted through the window and blinded her and Rogue squinted against the glare, shielding her eyes.  Logan leapt up, his claws flying out as the door burst open and a woman stormed in.  She grinned mischievously and crooned, "Hello, Logan."

End Chapter Nine