Part 10

So we sat on the grass in a little park near the city college. The sun was out, and spring was evident all around us. Everything felt clean, and fresh, and it was hard not to feel a little reborn yourself as you looked at the verdant life around you. We had sandwiches and sodas, and when those were done, and the other lunchtime denizens of the park had retreated back to their cubicles and classrooms, I took the opportunity to wad up my jacket as a pillow and lie back on the grass and look up at the clouds. Scott was feeling bolder now that we had passed by the question of my earlier tears, and he lay down, perpendicular to me, resting his head on my abdomen.

"It's nice out eh? I love spring, so many things seen more possible in spring, don't you think?"

"You and I think a lot alike Scott." I brushed a finger through his hair absentmindedly.

"I think it's going to be a good year this year."

"Yeah, I think so too, it sure can't be worse than last year." It was coming up on the time when Xavier had passed. I wondered if he would want us to do anything to recognize the day. I thought that he probably wouldn't, but I also thought that Scott and Jean wouldn't be able to let it pass. Logan had accepted that it had been Xavier's time; truly, it really hadn't been so hard to believe that he could have suffered a massive stroke. It would have been worse if he had been murdered by an enemy, then we would have had more to blame ourselves for. But he was gone before any of us could get to him, even Jean, who had been the last one to touch his mind, and even that had only been seconds, of confusion, she related, he had not known what was happening, which had been for the best. There had not been time for a speech of regret, or the passing of words of wisdom, just in an instant, the greatest mind in the world had ceased to be. It should have been easier for us.

"Are you happy Rogue?" The question stirred me from the daydream.

"More so than I have been for a long while I suppose."

"Could you be happy with me?"

I didn't answer right away, but just looked at the clouds for a few more seconds. "I want to be Scott."

"What do you need me to do to make you happy?"

"Just be honest with me I guess."

"Well that's easy enough. Isn't there anything else?" I wondered if he wanted me to ask him to leave Jean, or at least confront her. I wondered if he wanted me to ask him to commit to me, to tell me he loved me. He wanted me to say something.

"You don't need to do anything Scott. I'm not going to force you to do anything, or make any decisions. I won't tell you what to do or not to do. I want you to do what's right for you; and you alone."

"But Rogue, I want to make you happy."

"Then trust me Scott, please. Trust me to make the right decisions for myself, just as I want you to make them for yourself."

I continued to play with his hair, not looking at him as we spoke.

"This isn't just about sex is it?" I asked.

He laughed. "Oh no, it's about a real kindred spirit. Not to say that the intimacy isn't wonderful." Now it was my turn to laugh.

"Men." I muttered, knowing he could hear. He rolled over and moved to look down at me. The sun framed his face so he looked like the cliché angel. He just stared at me.

"I wish you would ask me to do something."

"How about you start training with me? It will give us another excuse to spend time together when the office is done?"

"What about Logan?"

"We spar together, and that will continue for as long as he is here. He's the best adversary for me with hand to hand because I don't have to hold back, if I hurt him he'll heal. And I know he won't hold back on me." I touched the spot where I had suffered the last broken rib.

"I'll give you that Rogue."

"If I was fighting you I know I would hold back. But if we train together, maybe run, or do some weights, or even the Danger Room, then I know it will be safe."

He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. I couldn't tell if he was mulling over what I had offered, or if he was fixated on the fact that I would still be sparring with Logan. I didn't want to wait for his answer or let any thoughts fester.

"I'm not sleeping with Logan."

"I didn't ask."

"But you wanted to."

"I won't ask you that."

"Just be honest with me, even if you don't think I'll like hearing it."

"I don't want to be petty, not when you are being so altruistic with me."

I smiled with the corner of my mouth and sighed at the same time.

"Would you like to train with me Scott?"

"Yeah, I would."

"Good then. The paint's probably cured enough for a second coat, let's get going." I sat myself up and made to stand, but he took my wrist, in similar fashion to Logan I noted, but just not as forcefully, and held me back.

"Please Rogue, please don't sleep with Logan while you have any feelings for me. And if you find you don't have those feelings any longer, tell me before you go to him."

"Thank you Scott." I squeezed his hand.

The office was finished in two days, paint wise at least, and the furniture Scott had picked out arrived just after we had removed all the drop cloths. We had many visitors poke their noses into the space as we were setting things up, most with only positive things to say about the change. Jean was unsure about the vision, but she was polite enough to thank me for all my help on Scott's behalf, and to give me a list of students who were interested in taking the swordsmanship course we had spoken about. There were only five, but that seemed like a very good number to me, and I thanked her in return, and promised to get all the equipment readied in time for the following week. Friday afternoons had seemed like a good time, as most students had no other classes then. Some cherished their time off, but others, these five, who weren't afraid of me I guessed, valued their training above their leisure. There was one first year, two in the second year, and one from the third and fourth year classes. I made a note to speak with Storm and Logan about all these students, to see what I could expect. Remy, Jubilation, Emma; I didn't know the other two except by names, they were first years.

"If it's ok Rogue, I'd like to speak with Scott alone for a bit, about the memorial service." Well, I had expected that.

"Of course." I could be civil; it wasn't as if she had hurt me personally or anything. "I'll see you two later then." I slipped out the door, and closed it behind me. I wanted to get back to my room and get into the shower. A day of hauling furniture, while good exercise, didn't leave one looking particularly glamorous. I didn't know if I was going to see Scott again that night, or Logan, or anyone, in fact, I felt a lot more like having a walk around the woods by myself, and maybe a drink, just to reward myself for a job well done, and a few days without tears.

So, once I was washed, and dressed in one of my training uniforms I grabbed a little bag I had prepared earlier, opened up my bedroom window and leapt out into the twilight. I flew to the far end of the property, landed, and began making my way back on foot, just at the edge of the woods, so I could still look up and see the stars. It was a warm night still, but once we were totally plunged into blackness I knew the temperature would drop, as it always did in early spring, when night truly took it's hold.

So, I started to hold a conversation with myself, in my head, what's going on Marie? Seems that I have gotten myself into quite the interesting situation here. At least I didn't actually answer myself in these conversations; I wasn't that far gone yet. It had become more and more obvious to me, as I had contemplated who I was becoming, that a lot of the person I was, was based on the person I was with. And that hadn't been a comfortable revelation. When Xavier had welcomed me to the mansion I had worked to make him happy with his choice. He had been proud of my every accomplishment, and in turn I was proud of myself, for possibly the first time in my adult life. And I found I craved that validation of myself, and I worked for it, and it made me a better person. That was Marie number one. When he had died I had floated around with no one to latch onto to give myself the will to continue. And so I had started to drink, and train far too hard, to dull the pain, and numb the emotions. Then Logan had found me, and I had created Marie number two, the animal that had grown out of my solo training. For Logan I was hunter and prey when we sparred. I grew hard when we worked to avoid feeling anything but the exhaustion of the matches, and the pain of the bruises, breaks and scars. And when we fell into bed together, it wasn't about love, or building intimacy, or even building the trust we were finding in the matches and training, it was about feral passion. Pure animal lust and satisfaction came with the orgasms, because that is what we both needed. I wanted to feel powerful, and vital, and desirable again, though in a different fashion than I had felt those things from Xavier. And, now I knew, that Logan wanted to feel the release from guilt, as well as the physical release that was just a part of his animal nature. And he wanted someone upon whom he could take out the rage that boiled under his skin, he found that in me, and I was that for him. And then there was Marie number three, the one who was finding Scott. Number two had found it easy to hate him, easy to place my blame and rage on his shoulders, for no better reason than he reminded me of Xavier, just as he reminded Jean of the same. That likeness had funnily enough driven her into Logan's arms, for a very different escape than I had sought.

Number three was the most confused. Scott needed me to be tender, non judgmental, to be a friend and a lover who would be faithful to him, and him alone. He needed the fantasy that he had created in order to keep himself from going under. And I realized that I was trying to be all that for him, despite the misgivings that number two had rightly brought up.

And so who was the real Marie; a combination of the three, I suspected. But it was sorting out the balance somehow, and somehow away from the influence of all these men, because I knew that I would fall into those roles so easily once I committed myself to one of them, unless I had a proper sense of myself first.

The thoughts of the three Maries were dancing around in my head when I arrived at the intended destination of my evening walk. Had there been a moon out the white marble would have glowed, but the moon was absent, between its cycles. No matter, I knew where I was, and I had come here prepared. I pulled a pillar candle out of my bag and a box of matches. Lighting it, I set it down on the grass, just in front of the slab. The flame illuminated the words carved into the variegated surface, not that I needed it to know what they said.

Charles Xavier, Mentor and Friend. I had thought it should say Hero as well, but it hadn't been my decision, and to me it would always say that, and Father. Of course he wasn't my real father, but he was everything I imagined a father would be, and should be.

The next things I pulled from the bag were two crystal glasses, wrapped in a towel against breakage, and a bottle of vintage port. I sat down in front of the candle, cross-legged on the grass and poured out both glasses.

"Saude Charles." I held my glass aloft, the flame catching the dark ruby liquid in a beautiful prism. I drank in his honor and then poured the contents of the other glass onto the ground in front of the candle.

"It's been almost a year Charles, and I still miss you every single day."

Once I had reached the age of majority Charles had often invited me into his study to share a glass of port or sherry, or brandy. I preferred the port. We'd talk about what had happened that day, or he'd ask me how I was feeling, and what I was dreaming about. I had gone and bought these about a month after he'd died. The bottle had cost me over two hundred dollars, but he was worth it. Then I had come to talk to him here. The first time I had just cried, the second time as well. The third time I had been angry, and then had felt guilty about it for days.

"Charles, I need your advice. I don't know what to do. I have to make some really tough decisions right now, but there's so much that is completely out of my control." I had thought that I only had three choices, but as I had explored the permutations it had turned into a terrible tangle. I could stay at the mansion and continue a relationship with Scott, if he decided that he didn't want to stay married to Jean. Or I could stay and not have a relationship with him, if he wanted to stay with Jean, or if he just didn't really want me. But that would be hard. And if he simply lost Jean, despite loving her, could I stay and be his second choice? I didn't know. It was much the same question with Logan. Though at least I knew I would be his second choice. But Logan had honor, he would never let me see the pain he would always feel at Jean's loss, if she rejected him. I had no doubts that were I to leave with him he would come to love me, as he had said he would. But, would that be enough for me?

"The only choice I have Charles, one that is really my own, is to leave, by myself."

"Please don't leave." The voice behind me was so soft, borne on the wind and I almost didn't believe that I had heard it, and that it was real. I wasn't startled. It simply seemed ethereal. Part of me had been hoping for an audible answer, even though I knew that was impossible. So I had thought.

"Scott." I matched the tone of his voice; I knew I was going to fall into the trap again, of being what he needed at the expense of myself.

"I don't want you to leave Rogue. I don't know what I would do without you." His voice was becoming louder, and I knew that he was only a few steps behind me that time. He came to stand beside me, as I continued, sitting on the grass, to focus on the tombstone.

"Scott, you would go on without me." I tried to hold on to the independence I had been cultivating over the last few hours.

"I would come after you."

"Oh Scott." I wished he wouldn't say things like that. He sat down beside me on the grass and reached for my hand. I was in my uniform gloves so I didn't pull away. He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it softly. I could feel his warmth, even though the leather.

"What are you doing here Rogue?"

"Just having a drink with Charles." I held up my half full glass. "I just wanted to talk with him again for a little bit."

"You know he wouldn't want you to leave either."

"He would want me to be happy."

"Sometimes the perception of happiness doesn't turn out to be the best solution."

"Scott, we are entitled to try to be happy aren't we? We of all people."

"Yes." His answer was thoughtful, "Look, do you mind?" He reached across me and took my glass. "Salute Charles", he too toasted Xavier.

"Charles, it's been a long time since we talked, too long I suppose, and that's my fault." Scott was looking directly at the marker, just as I did when I spoke to the spirit of my friend. But I knew the words were for me.

"Charles, so much has changed around here since you left us. Charles, my wife Jean, who I loved more than my own life, turned to someone else to comfort her. I could never have honestly called Logan my friend Charles, but he was my teammate, and now I don't know what he is. He has always loved her Charles, he never could conceal it, but I had always believed that our bond was stronger than the temptation of his passion." I listened to his words; this had to be killing him. "I believe she may be lost to me forever." My hand tightened around his with the instinct to comfort him.

"And Charles, I turned to someone else myself, and I may be damned for it. She is here beside me, allowing me to hold her hand, but she is thinking about leaving the mansion, the X-Men and me."

At this he turned to me, though he still made out as if he was talking to Charles.

"Charles, I need you to tell her not to go. I need her." He took a deep breath, his eyes locked with mine, despite the dark, and his ruby glasses. "I think I might be falling in love with her, and I think I want her to fall in love with me." I was pretty sure my heart stopped beating at that point, I know I stopped breathing. Oh God – was the only thing in my head right then. But he kept focused on me, and kept talking.

"Charles, please tell her not to go, not until we are both sure of what we want."

I wanted to tell him right at that moment that I hated him, but I couldn't. I wished for the anger, it had been so much easier in the anger. At least then I had been certain of my emotions.

"Close your eyes Rogue."

"Why?"

"Because I am going to kiss you again, just quickly, because I want to prove to you and Charles that I am serious, and I need to touch you."

I said nothing, but did as he asked; I wanted to touch him too, so badly that my whole chest ached. I could feel his nearness, his face just hovering by mine. Then his lips brushed mine, like a feather, and were gone.

"Turn your head to the left Rogue, and open your eyes." There was nothing before me when I did but the trees, intact, I had taken nothing from him. I thanked God.

"You are a fool Scott Summers."

"Yes, I suppose I am Rogue." He was still holding my hand. "Will you stay Rogue? For me? For just a little while longer?" I knew it was a promise from him to make a decision, to confront the pain, and to move beyond it, one way, one woman or another.

"I hate you Scott." But I wasn't serious, and we both knew it.

"Do you want me to leave you alone to finish talking to Charles?"

"No, I think I've said and heard everything I need to." I extricated my hand from his, retrieved my glass of port, and finished it. Then I packed up Charles' glass, the bottle, and blew out the candle.

"Let me spend the night with you Rogue. Let me make love to you, and fall asleep with you, and wake up with you."

"And what will you tell her?"

"She won't ask. She's with Logan, I told her I wouldn't be back till very late. She said she'd be working in the lab in that case. She locks the door when she works with Cerebro, for safety. He'll be there waiting."

"Oh Scott, I really am sorry."

"I'm not, not anymore."