A/N Ok. I can tell you already that this will be a chapter that's going to
be reposted several times. All of this spilled out and I got it beta'd
ASAP (thanks vics). Hopefully this makes sense. If not, feel free to tell
me and I'll make sure to clarify it when I re-work this chapter. Bold are
thoughts. Italics are memories. CONSTRUCTIVE critiquing welcomed.
A/N Post uploading See? What did I tell you? Evidently ff.net doesn't like the bold/italics (if anyone can tell me why and/or how to get around it, it'd be greatly appreciated) so we're going to go another route. Asterisks (*) will be thoughts and the different size font will be memories. Also, I tried to make this a bit more reader friendly with extra return-button hits.
A/N Post re-post. Ok, trying something else. / are memories
Chapter 9: The Past and the Present
Just once, just once, St. John wished that a mission would go as planned. They mission had started out great.they got there, Rogue contacted with the guy quickly, and they had no trouble while they were there. Jean has shot suspicious glances as Rogue and Blade (his 'gift' was that he could turn his fingers into sharp blades) who where becoming fast friends. St. John shook his head.
*What is it with guys and her? Do they all need to fix something broken? Even Scott has urges to 'protect' her.when Jean isn't around, of course.*
All had been going well. In fact, it was starting to look like this was going to be the first mission that something hadn't gone wrong. Just when they were about to board the Blackbird, the Brotherhood showed up. All of them had lost track of Rogue and St. John had found her after they had diffused the situation. She was sitting on the ground with her eyes glazed, in some semi-awake state, looking as cold and still as marble. Next to her was a dead blonde woman from his past. The only thing he could think of was:
*God; she knows all about my past.if she wakes up and knows nothing, I'm joining the priesthood.*
When they had gotten back to the mansion, Xavier had put her into a healing sleep since she was neither sleeping nor conscious. Two months later, St. John was still sitting by her bedside in the Med Lab.
*Why can't a mission just go right for once.*
He had watched her body grow smaller from atrophied muscles and build back up as he worked her arms, legs, fingers, toes, and anything else he could bend. He cringed at the number of crunches she'd have to do when she woke up. No matter how much he worked her abs, they never seemed to be the same as before. Her abs had been her pride and joy; she was almost obsessive about them.
He stiffened as he heard Jean enter the room. He stepped back and let Jean do her routine of checking vitals. Jean had tactfully avoided looking in his direction or talking to him. The fight last week between the three of them still had them seething. Both the Professor and Jean thought that since Rogue had shown no reaction to any stimuli and they couldn't detect any brain function, that she should be taken out of the Med Bay and transferred to one of the extra rooms. Neither had listened to him when he had pointed out that neither had been able to pick up her thoughts.ever. Her brain just had too many occupants. They had also shrugged off the Southern Bell's, rebel that she was raised, reaction to his warmth. St. John knew that if Jean didn't have Marie semi-restrained, the girl, young woman, would have been in his lap.
Jean left quietly and St. John grasped Rogue's hand. His body temperature had risen due to the tension and he concentrated on not burning the girl. He squeezed her hand a bit.
*Screw Jean and her 'she can't hear or feel anything'.*
He sighed. Yeah, he could definitely identify with Rouge's dislike of Jean. Of course, he was one of the few who knew the real reason she was failing Ms. Grey's class. He smiled to himself. Their friendship was strange. He and Rogue hadn't become friends out of proximity-more of a mutual understanding of one another. They had both not noticed that they were each becoming attached to each other.needing each other, until a particularly bad thunderstorm.
/CRAAAAAAAASH!!! A loud noise startled the broken girl awake. She took a slight sniff. He was not here. It had just been a dream. She had dreamed about Logan coming back.ironically on the day she had decided that he wasn't. It had all be a dream. Logan had not been on the road, she had not sighed Remy's name and Logan was not in his room or her doorway. HE however, was. When Logan left, St. John had inherited Logan's gift for knowing whenever she had waken from a dream. "You know, Johnny, sometimes I wish that I had more of the water and doctors ones." He smiled half-heartedly. "I take it was a new one then?" She shook her head. "Yeah. Figures that after what happened today I'd have this one. My luck, ya know?" "So do you wanna actually tell me about this one or do you want me to beat you at poker again?" She smiled. "How about I tell you about it while I'm winning.." St John just smiled. "Only while you're awake." Each smiled sadly at each other as they walked from the room. Both knew the worst nightmares could come while you were wide-awake./
St. John remembered that night vividly. She had actually won that night and for once, it was he doing her shift of kitchen duty. She had, ironically, told him about her new dream. Jean stuck her head back into the room. For a moment, he thought she was going to say something stupid, like 'you need sleep/food too'. St. John snorted. Yep, he really didn't like her. It almost made him wonder if it was due to some strange sense of loyalty to Marie, or just him. As the redheaded doctor stood there, he decided it must be a mix of both; she was really starting to get on his nerves. The way she hovered was starting to make him think she was trying to undermine Rogue's health. It wouldn't be the first time either. She had tried several ways to remove Marie's "crush" of Logan. He remembered the day the Jean called "The Day Rouge Broke." Rouge had been dating Remy then.
*Why does she always pick the ones that will hurt her?*
/He remembered watching her from Ororo's rose garden. The girl-who- wasn't-a-girl was seated on the bench close to the gated entrance of the Institute. It had been exactly 2 years since Logan had left and St. John knew that she felt it keenly. He was probably the only one who really understood it, too. As always, she had Logan's metal tags-his promise that he's be back. The years had gone by with out a card, letter, e-mail, or phone call. She wasn't exactly worried, per se, Logan was never one for communication and keeping a hold of strings attached, but it would have still been nice. He remembered how forlorn she had looked, staring down the road. The view was clear-St. John knew she had great eyesight as a result of Logan's touch-and not blurred by tears. St. John remembered that he had known that she never cried that day. It was always the next that found her eyes blood-shot and puffy, with her head on his shoulder. He remembered watching the three figures watched from the mansion window; watching Jean turned to the Professor. St. John imagined that he could hear what they were saying. "Is this really healthy for her? Pining away for someone who might never return is ludicrous at best. Even after many talks about her crush hasn't helped." He imagined that Remy had agreed. Although he felt no kindness for the ex- thief, St. John always felt bad that this day and the next were the only 2 days Remy's love for Rouge could be overcome by a hope that could be described, at best, a long shot. "Yes, it is Jean. You know that as well as I do. This is a much healthier way of dealing with her problem than say cutting herself." He imagined the Professor saying. Unfortunately, all they could do was wait. At noon, Rouge got up and walked toward the mansion. She, too, had now given up that Logan might one day return. St. John had imagined that Jean found this action as a small victory in her quest for Logan's attentions. "About damn time," St. John remembered saying to the open air./
Of course, Rogue was then a permanent displayed part of Marie's personality. It was a well-known fact that while Marie and Rogue both loved Logan; Rogue was willing to try out Remy. It was a great plan, in fact. When Logan came home, he would go into 'protect Marie' mode, become jealous, and might admit his love for the girl. Of course, no one counted on Remy's actions.
/It was 7am. On a Saturday, in fact, and the Wolverine was awake. Not only was he awake, at this godforsaken hour, but he was out of bed, had a pair of jeans on, and was at the kitchen table waiting, yes, waiting on his coffee. Even for a person who had known him all of his life, this would have warranted triple or quadruple takes. Logan was just not a morning person. Scott, Remy, Bobby, and himself were cautiously eating their cereal, stealing glances at him every once in a while. Not long after Logan made his appearance Marie had bounded down the stairs that led to the teachers' quarters. She was clad in an oversized Institute shirt and a pair of spandex shorts and barefoot. From the look on his face, St. John could tell that the Wolverine hadn't expected this version of Marie. "Mornin' Scott. An' ya too, guys. Mornin' Logan." The guys had nodded their hands hello while Logan had waved two figures at her as she reached for and opened her morning Coke and raised an eyebrow at her choice of morning beverage. Marie had registered his raised eyebrows. In fact, St. John remembered, she had retaliated with her own quirked up in a disturbing mix of Logan and Rogue. "Logan, do ya have a problem or something?" "Ya know kid, that ain't the best breakfast." She had laughed. "Caffeine, and sugah.what's better than that? Besides, sugah.pot.kettle.black." She gave a pointed look at the coffee maker, inducing a laughing riot around the table. "It's only coffee." Marie had laughed again. "With about 3 or 4 rounded shots of JD in there." She laughed again at his confusion. "More than once Ah've stolen your mug, sugah." She turned her attention to Scott. "It was only once or twice," she had told the strict man. "Besides, we have more important things to dwell on. Ya ready Scott? Three on three, right? So you, me, an' Sunspot and Remy, Bobby an' if he wants to play, Logan. That sound ok?" "Whoa, kid. What exactly have you volunteered me to play, cuz I'm pretty sure our definitions of that word are different." They all watched as slowly Marie turned into pure liquid sex. "Well, if ya want to compare notes later." She shook herself and laughed, returning to her original mood. "Ah'm talkin' football Logan. Just an ol' friendly game of tackle football. We've been playin' every Saturday for a while now." "Sure, kid, I'll play." They had ended up playing most of the day, with a short lunch break. Sometime during the day, they gained Kitty and Jubilee as spectators/cheerleaders. Several times Logan had tackled Marie to find that it would be her to push him off, laughing and jumping back up to her feet in a patented Wolverine move. St. John remembered laughing heartily at the puzzled expression on Logan's face.only to be shut up when a chilling stare and an inch of claw was pointed in his direction. Surprises kept coming to the Wolverine as he noticed his Marie was one of the least winded. St. John remembered thinking Duh. If you only knew how long Scott had her and I training. That thought had be chased by another one. Of course, maybe that's his problem.Scott's teachings. One of the more disturbing actions to Logan, St. John noticed, was that every time her team made a touch down, she would hug Scooter-which was quite often. And it wasn't a yeah-we-scored friendly-type hug. It was a we're-kicking=their-asses-and-fully-enjoying-it type hug. And speaking of friendly actions, sometime between when Logan left and now, Marie had learned her body's effect on the opposite sex. It amused St. John to no end as he watched Logan discover this small triumph of Rogue's St. John had also noticed that Logan had been paying careful attention to Marie's and "Gumbo's" (St. John loved Logan's nickname for the Swamp rat) relationship. While it was Rogue pushing Logan off, neither parties would want to move when Gumbo tackled Marie or vise versa. Scooter had several times jokingly-yes, jokingly-threatened to spray them down with the hose. The last time, Jubilee had commented, "Scott, you know Gambit's a human furnace. It wouldn't work. Besides after her little-not-completely-over stint with St. John, what do you expect?" St. John remembered laughing until a pair of iron-hard hazel eyes met his. Rouge, however, had smiled one of her smiles and commented right back. "Lawd knows they've kept me warm." It took several moments alone and a partially destroyed tree for Logan to get the Wolverine under control. When he returned, he found the game to be abandoned for lack of energy. Marie, they all had noticed though, was still bounding with energy. It didn't take telepathic abilities for St. John to know what was going through Logan's mind. In fact, it was going through his own. St. John has watched as Logan turned back to Marie who was paying attention to Scott. Scott had obviously said something that Logan had missed. Marie was shaking her head no. They all should have known from the glint in her eyes what she was going to say. "Naw, Scott. Ah think that Logan has 'ad enough of his playin' with us youngins. Ah bet he's achin' ta go somewhere else. How 'bout it Wolverine?" She was right, of course. Logan wanted to go away and take Marie anywhere.a bar.his room.a tree. God, he needed a Molsen-no more like a shot-or five-of whiskey. St. John was thinking right up there with him, too. "Yeah, Kid. You go get cleaned up and we'll go when you're ready." St. John had watched Rogue closely as she refused to let the hurt from the nickname show. "What about you.you're pretty dirty yourself." Logan had snorted. "Yeah, kid, but I'll still be ready before you. So scramble up those stairs and get goin'." Rogue had agreed, no doubt thinking about the dress she was planning on wearing. "Ah'll be ready in 20 minutes." She turned and -slowly-made her way up the mansion. Logan had growled menacingly. "Marie, get that tail of yours moving before I wash and dress you myself." Marie cocked her head as if weighing her options. He really wanted to clap his hand over his mouth, but he'd never do something so pansy-like. So, he did what any man would do. He prepared to back up his bluff. Marie had looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "Ah can wash and dress myself, thanks.but if you wanna help. And as for my tail.if you have any suggestions." Scott and St. John were laughing, while Logan had sputtered. "Rogue, stop teasing Logan. I think Gambit here's about to blow a gasket." Rogue had turned a brilliant smile at Gambit. "Don't worry we won't stay out too late-you'll get your Gumbo." She turned back to Logan. "Catch it if you can." Logan, sure that he'd misheard her, stood there. Scott clamed his hand down on Wolverine's shoulder. "Make sure you have her back by 3am. She's been staying out most nights until almost morning and when she does sleep, it isn't long or restful. Especially since Remy proposed to her last month." /
Ironically, Logan had come to him for advice. St. John still remembered that night.
*He should have known, the lucky S.O.B.*
/He should have seen it coming. At least in St. John's opinion, Logan should have been able to add the clues up; they were there. St. John had told the Wolverine that too, when he came up the back stairs at 3 am. Logan was Marie's best friend. The Wolverine was Rouge's best friend. Still, the beast in front of him didn't see it coming. Real friends help you move bodies. The Wolverine and Rogue had done that.several time in fact. Why Logan hadn't known, even in the darkest corners of his mind, that Marie might love another, might marry another, was lost on St. John. Granted, there had been no phone calls or letters to mention Remy's arrival and/or his interest in Rouge, but that was his own fault, not his denial. The Wolverine had tried to console himself, telling St. John that the search for his past was almost all consuming. HE remembered though, that he hadn't let the mighty Wolverine believe that for longer than it took for him to voice the words. Then the Wolverine tried to rationalize it. " She was too young, and I was staying away, giving her a chance to grow up, experience life, before I came back and to claim her." St. John could here the Wolverine's voice echo from the past. "I should have known." It seemed to be the beast's mantra. St. John remembered putting his hand on his shoulder, knowing that his best friend's best friend had still believed that he had a chance, even as the brunette beauty was showing off Remy's ring on her left hand. It took the entire night for Logan and St. John to become friends. It took even longer for Logan to come to a decision. He was standing next to him as Marie came flouncing down to breakfast. He remembered the impassive look on Logan's face as Marie asked him again. "Logan? Did you decide? If you'd give me away, I mean." St. John himself had been asked to be the best man. He remembered so well the effort it seemed to take for the Wolverine to accept what was happening to his mate and nod his head in affirmation. Marie had flung herself into Logan's arms and squeezed him after that. "Thanks so much, Logan! I told Remy you'd never let me down." He voice was so happy that both men couldn't really have any reason to not do as she asked. She ran off, then, to tell her fiancé, St. John supposed. It left Logan standing shell- shocked outside the main dining room. Then, something St. John had never seen before nor since, happened. With tears in his eyes, the Wolverine turned to look at him. "Pyro. Tell me I'm doing the right thing," All St. John could do was lead the man to the garage and hand him the keys to Scott's bike./
Looking back now, St. John hated himself. He was the reason Logan left. The next few months were hard on Marie, planning by herself. More than once she had barged into he Professor's office, demanding that the man use the Cerebro to track down her best friend. He'd never do it though, never find the Wolverine when it was so obvious that he wanted to be left alone. Then, the day of her wedding came. He was the reason the Marie was kidnapped.
*It's my fault she's different. It's my fault that she has another voice in her head. It's my fault that she has these powers. It's my fault she's cold.*
/The day was bright and sunny, thanks to Ororo. Everything had been planed and everything was smoothly rolling along. The only damper on the day was the off-handed comment of Scott wondering out loud when Jean would start planning their ceremony. All the guests had been seated outside the Mansion, in Ororo's best rose garden, and the wedding procession had already come down the aisle, Loganless. Thankfully, the Professor had not taken offense to being asked to fill in for Logan. The two smallest darker spots of the day didn't seem to dim the day's happiness. When Judge however, started the ceremony, a Blackhawk, similar to the plastic ones sitting in the X-Men's underground garage, flew over, releasing people that they knew (the Brotherhood) and people who only Gambit had ever seen before. The battle was quick and few were wounded. Destroying the X-Men had not been the mission objective. Taking Rogue, however, was. In the days that followed, hindsight was the proverbial 20/20. St. John even remembered joking, humorlessly, that it was 20/15. Everything had become clear. Remy was their mole. He had gone with the attackers, an unconscious Marie in his arms. Loopholes in the security system were found, courtesy of the thief. Phone calls were traced and reheard as Remy had left his cell phone. The 4 years that Remy had been there were all a cover. His mission was only to grow close to one of the X-Men. /
He still blamed himself. Everyone at the Mansion had blamed themselves, but St. John felt that his was the most deserved. If only he hadn't given Logan the keys. He shook himself.
*No use crying over spilt perfume*.
St. John laughed. The sound sounded strange as it ricocheted of the metal in the MedBay. Marie had told him that when she had been rescued. He remembered finding it ironic since she never wore it much. He took a deep breath. He could still smell the vanilla and cinnamon that she always wore if she decided to wear a scent at all. Suddenly he remembered she started wearing it after Logan was gone for the 1st two years. It took two missions to get Rouge safely back in the Mansion. Logan wasn't called, which was against St. John's opinion, but in the end he wasn't heeded. He was thankful however, that it was him who found her. She was strapped to a table, having been enhanced with Ms. Marvel's powers. The only good part was that Rogue could now control her 'gift'.
He sighed. That was 2 years ago. Rogue had built her confidence up and rejoined the team. Only he knew the reason behind the kidnapping. Remy had given his firstborn child to the Thieves Guild. They were tired of waiting. The Brotherhood wanted Rogue to be on their side, an enhanced mutant. They had joined forces to kidnap Marie. She was seen as an easy target and a solution for both sides. Rouge had taken it hard, especially since Logan had been gone for the entire thing.
He sighed again. She should have already awakened, but everything had always been a gamble with Rouge.
*She chose her name well*
It was a humorless thought.
While most of the Mansion's residents drank themselves silly in times of depression, she had just gone to the nearest techno joint and danced. As others no longer fought to control their 'gifts' she seemed to be fighting harder than before. When others lost their cool, she remained calm and collect, but went to pieces with such vehement ferocity that she had almost become as legendary as the Wolverine. Yet, she was adored by the younger residents. She was referred to as 'ice queen'.was notoriously known as the perfect definition for 'unattainable' and yet she gave her heart freely.to jerks like Logan and Remy. St. John was determined to prove her wrong that he would also be in that category. HE would not be the asshole. It was the main reason he sat here. Outside of pure friendship, of course. Rouge was a paradox personified. You were almost never sure where you stood with her, yet she was so blunt and open that you wondered how that could be.
St John almost jumped as the small, pale hand squeezed him back.
***********any tips/suggestions on how to differentiate fonts for stressed words, memories, thoughts ect are gratefully wanted. Reviews too! ;)
A/N Post uploading See? What did I tell you? Evidently ff.net doesn't like the bold/italics (if anyone can tell me why and/or how to get around it, it'd be greatly appreciated) so we're going to go another route. Asterisks (*) will be thoughts and the different size font will be memories. Also, I tried to make this a bit more reader friendly with extra return-button hits.
A/N Post re-post. Ok, trying something else. / are memories
Chapter 9: The Past and the Present
Just once, just once, St. John wished that a mission would go as planned. They mission had started out great.they got there, Rogue contacted with the guy quickly, and they had no trouble while they were there. Jean has shot suspicious glances as Rogue and Blade (his 'gift' was that he could turn his fingers into sharp blades) who where becoming fast friends. St. John shook his head.
*What is it with guys and her? Do they all need to fix something broken? Even Scott has urges to 'protect' her.when Jean isn't around, of course.*
All had been going well. In fact, it was starting to look like this was going to be the first mission that something hadn't gone wrong. Just when they were about to board the Blackbird, the Brotherhood showed up. All of them had lost track of Rogue and St. John had found her after they had diffused the situation. She was sitting on the ground with her eyes glazed, in some semi-awake state, looking as cold and still as marble. Next to her was a dead blonde woman from his past. The only thing he could think of was:
*God; she knows all about my past.if she wakes up and knows nothing, I'm joining the priesthood.*
When they had gotten back to the mansion, Xavier had put her into a healing sleep since she was neither sleeping nor conscious. Two months later, St. John was still sitting by her bedside in the Med Lab.
*Why can't a mission just go right for once.*
He had watched her body grow smaller from atrophied muscles and build back up as he worked her arms, legs, fingers, toes, and anything else he could bend. He cringed at the number of crunches she'd have to do when she woke up. No matter how much he worked her abs, they never seemed to be the same as before. Her abs had been her pride and joy; she was almost obsessive about them.
He stiffened as he heard Jean enter the room. He stepped back and let Jean do her routine of checking vitals. Jean had tactfully avoided looking in his direction or talking to him. The fight last week between the three of them still had them seething. Both the Professor and Jean thought that since Rogue had shown no reaction to any stimuli and they couldn't detect any brain function, that she should be taken out of the Med Bay and transferred to one of the extra rooms. Neither had listened to him when he had pointed out that neither had been able to pick up her thoughts.ever. Her brain just had too many occupants. They had also shrugged off the Southern Bell's, rebel that she was raised, reaction to his warmth. St. John knew that if Jean didn't have Marie semi-restrained, the girl, young woman, would have been in his lap.
Jean left quietly and St. John grasped Rogue's hand. His body temperature had risen due to the tension and he concentrated on not burning the girl. He squeezed her hand a bit.
*Screw Jean and her 'she can't hear or feel anything'.*
He sighed. Yeah, he could definitely identify with Rouge's dislike of Jean. Of course, he was one of the few who knew the real reason she was failing Ms. Grey's class. He smiled to himself. Their friendship was strange. He and Rogue hadn't become friends out of proximity-more of a mutual understanding of one another. They had both not noticed that they were each becoming attached to each other.needing each other, until a particularly bad thunderstorm.
/CRAAAAAAAASH!!! A loud noise startled the broken girl awake. She took a slight sniff. He was not here. It had just been a dream. She had dreamed about Logan coming back.ironically on the day she had decided that he wasn't. It had all be a dream. Logan had not been on the road, she had not sighed Remy's name and Logan was not in his room or her doorway. HE however, was. When Logan left, St. John had inherited Logan's gift for knowing whenever she had waken from a dream. "You know, Johnny, sometimes I wish that I had more of the water and doctors ones." He smiled half-heartedly. "I take it was a new one then?" She shook her head. "Yeah. Figures that after what happened today I'd have this one. My luck, ya know?" "So do you wanna actually tell me about this one or do you want me to beat you at poker again?" She smiled. "How about I tell you about it while I'm winning.." St John just smiled. "Only while you're awake." Each smiled sadly at each other as they walked from the room. Both knew the worst nightmares could come while you were wide-awake./
St. John remembered that night vividly. She had actually won that night and for once, it was he doing her shift of kitchen duty. She had, ironically, told him about her new dream. Jean stuck her head back into the room. For a moment, he thought she was going to say something stupid, like 'you need sleep/food too'. St. John snorted. Yep, he really didn't like her. It almost made him wonder if it was due to some strange sense of loyalty to Marie, or just him. As the redheaded doctor stood there, he decided it must be a mix of both; she was really starting to get on his nerves. The way she hovered was starting to make him think she was trying to undermine Rogue's health. It wouldn't be the first time either. She had tried several ways to remove Marie's "crush" of Logan. He remembered the day the Jean called "The Day Rouge Broke." Rouge had been dating Remy then.
*Why does she always pick the ones that will hurt her?*
/He remembered watching her from Ororo's rose garden. The girl-who- wasn't-a-girl was seated on the bench close to the gated entrance of the Institute. It had been exactly 2 years since Logan had left and St. John knew that she felt it keenly. He was probably the only one who really understood it, too. As always, she had Logan's metal tags-his promise that he's be back. The years had gone by with out a card, letter, e-mail, or phone call. She wasn't exactly worried, per se, Logan was never one for communication and keeping a hold of strings attached, but it would have still been nice. He remembered how forlorn she had looked, staring down the road. The view was clear-St. John knew she had great eyesight as a result of Logan's touch-and not blurred by tears. St. John remembered that he had known that she never cried that day. It was always the next that found her eyes blood-shot and puffy, with her head on his shoulder. He remembered watching the three figures watched from the mansion window; watching Jean turned to the Professor. St. John imagined that he could hear what they were saying. "Is this really healthy for her? Pining away for someone who might never return is ludicrous at best. Even after many talks about her crush hasn't helped." He imagined that Remy had agreed. Although he felt no kindness for the ex- thief, St. John always felt bad that this day and the next were the only 2 days Remy's love for Rouge could be overcome by a hope that could be described, at best, a long shot. "Yes, it is Jean. You know that as well as I do. This is a much healthier way of dealing with her problem than say cutting herself." He imagined the Professor saying. Unfortunately, all they could do was wait. At noon, Rouge got up and walked toward the mansion. She, too, had now given up that Logan might one day return. St. John had imagined that Jean found this action as a small victory in her quest for Logan's attentions. "About damn time," St. John remembered saying to the open air./
Of course, Rogue was then a permanent displayed part of Marie's personality. It was a well-known fact that while Marie and Rogue both loved Logan; Rogue was willing to try out Remy. It was a great plan, in fact. When Logan came home, he would go into 'protect Marie' mode, become jealous, and might admit his love for the girl. Of course, no one counted on Remy's actions.
/It was 7am. On a Saturday, in fact, and the Wolverine was awake. Not only was he awake, at this godforsaken hour, but he was out of bed, had a pair of jeans on, and was at the kitchen table waiting, yes, waiting on his coffee. Even for a person who had known him all of his life, this would have warranted triple or quadruple takes. Logan was just not a morning person. Scott, Remy, Bobby, and himself were cautiously eating their cereal, stealing glances at him every once in a while. Not long after Logan made his appearance Marie had bounded down the stairs that led to the teachers' quarters. She was clad in an oversized Institute shirt and a pair of spandex shorts and barefoot. From the look on his face, St. John could tell that the Wolverine hadn't expected this version of Marie. "Mornin' Scott. An' ya too, guys. Mornin' Logan." The guys had nodded their hands hello while Logan had waved two figures at her as she reached for and opened her morning Coke and raised an eyebrow at her choice of morning beverage. Marie had registered his raised eyebrows. In fact, St. John remembered, she had retaliated with her own quirked up in a disturbing mix of Logan and Rogue. "Logan, do ya have a problem or something?" "Ya know kid, that ain't the best breakfast." She had laughed. "Caffeine, and sugah.what's better than that? Besides, sugah.pot.kettle.black." She gave a pointed look at the coffee maker, inducing a laughing riot around the table. "It's only coffee." Marie had laughed again. "With about 3 or 4 rounded shots of JD in there." She laughed again at his confusion. "More than once Ah've stolen your mug, sugah." She turned her attention to Scott. "It was only once or twice," she had told the strict man. "Besides, we have more important things to dwell on. Ya ready Scott? Three on three, right? So you, me, an' Sunspot and Remy, Bobby an' if he wants to play, Logan. That sound ok?" "Whoa, kid. What exactly have you volunteered me to play, cuz I'm pretty sure our definitions of that word are different." They all watched as slowly Marie turned into pure liquid sex. "Well, if ya want to compare notes later." She shook herself and laughed, returning to her original mood. "Ah'm talkin' football Logan. Just an ol' friendly game of tackle football. We've been playin' every Saturday for a while now." "Sure, kid, I'll play." They had ended up playing most of the day, with a short lunch break. Sometime during the day, they gained Kitty and Jubilee as spectators/cheerleaders. Several times Logan had tackled Marie to find that it would be her to push him off, laughing and jumping back up to her feet in a patented Wolverine move. St. John remembered laughing heartily at the puzzled expression on Logan's face.only to be shut up when a chilling stare and an inch of claw was pointed in his direction. Surprises kept coming to the Wolverine as he noticed his Marie was one of the least winded. St. John remembered thinking Duh. If you only knew how long Scott had her and I training. That thought had be chased by another one. Of course, maybe that's his problem.Scott's teachings. One of the more disturbing actions to Logan, St. John noticed, was that every time her team made a touch down, she would hug Scooter-which was quite often. And it wasn't a yeah-we-scored friendly-type hug. It was a we're-kicking=their-asses-and-fully-enjoying-it type hug. And speaking of friendly actions, sometime between when Logan left and now, Marie had learned her body's effect on the opposite sex. It amused St. John to no end as he watched Logan discover this small triumph of Rogue's St. John had also noticed that Logan had been paying careful attention to Marie's and "Gumbo's" (St. John loved Logan's nickname for the Swamp rat) relationship. While it was Rogue pushing Logan off, neither parties would want to move when Gumbo tackled Marie or vise versa. Scooter had several times jokingly-yes, jokingly-threatened to spray them down with the hose. The last time, Jubilee had commented, "Scott, you know Gambit's a human furnace. It wouldn't work. Besides after her little-not-completely-over stint with St. John, what do you expect?" St. John remembered laughing until a pair of iron-hard hazel eyes met his. Rouge, however, had smiled one of her smiles and commented right back. "Lawd knows they've kept me warm." It took several moments alone and a partially destroyed tree for Logan to get the Wolverine under control. When he returned, he found the game to be abandoned for lack of energy. Marie, they all had noticed though, was still bounding with energy. It didn't take telepathic abilities for St. John to know what was going through Logan's mind. In fact, it was going through his own. St. John has watched as Logan turned back to Marie who was paying attention to Scott. Scott had obviously said something that Logan had missed. Marie was shaking her head no. They all should have known from the glint in her eyes what she was going to say. "Naw, Scott. Ah think that Logan has 'ad enough of his playin' with us youngins. Ah bet he's achin' ta go somewhere else. How 'bout it Wolverine?" She was right, of course. Logan wanted to go away and take Marie anywhere.a bar.his room.a tree. God, he needed a Molsen-no more like a shot-or five-of whiskey. St. John was thinking right up there with him, too. "Yeah, Kid. You go get cleaned up and we'll go when you're ready." St. John had watched Rogue closely as she refused to let the hurt from the nickname show. "What about you.you're pretty dirty yourself." Logan had snorted. "Yeah, kid, but I'll still be ready before you. So scramble up those stairs and get goin'." Rogue had agreed, no doubt thinking about the dress she was planning on wearing. "Ah'll be ready in 20 minutes." She turned and -slowly-made her way up the mansion. Logan had growled menacingly. "Marie, get that tail of yours moving before I wash and dress you myself." Marie cocked her head as if weighing her options. He really wanted to clap his hand over his mouth, but he'd never do something so pansy-like. So, he did what any man would do. He prepared to back up his bluff. Marie had looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "Ah can wash and dress myself, thanks.but if you wanna help. And as for my tail.if you have any suggestions." Scott and St. John were laughing, while Logan had sputtered. "Rogue, stop teasing Logan. I think Gambit here's about to blow a gasket." Rogue had turned a brilliant smile at Gambit. "Don't worry we won't stay out too late-you'll get your Gumbo." She turned back to Logan. "Catch it if you can." Logan, sure that he'd misheard her, stood there. Scott clamed his hand down on Wolverine's shoulder. "Make sure you have her back by 3am. She's been staying out most nights until almost morning and when she does sleep, it isn't long or restful. Especially since Remy proposed to her last month." /
Ironically, Logan had come to him for advice. St. John still remembered that night.
*He should have known, the lucky S.O.B.*
/He should have seen it coming. At least in St. John's opinion, Logan should have been able to add the clues up; they were there. St. John had told the Wolverine that too, when he came up the back stairs at 3 am. Logan was Marie's best friend. The Wolverine was Rouge's best friend. Still, the beast in front of him didn't see it coming. Real friends help you move bodies. The Wolverine and Rogue had done that.several time in fact. Why Logan hadn't known, even in the darkest corners of his mind, that Marie might love another, might marry another, was lost on St. John. Granted, there had been no phone calls or letters to mention Remy's arrival and/or his interest in Rouge, but that was his own fault, not his denial. The Wolverine had tried to console himself, telling St. John that the search for his past was almost all consuming. HE remembered though, that he hadn't let the mighty Wolverine believe that for longer than it took for him to voice the words. Then the Wolverine tried to rationalize it. " She was too young, and I was staying away, giving her a chance to grow up, experience life, before I came back and to claim her." St. John could here the Wolverine's voice echo from the past. "I should have known." It seemed to be the beast's mantra. St. John remembered putting his hand on his shoulder, knowing that his best friend's best friend had still believed that he had a chance, even as the brunette beauty was showing off Remy's ring on her left hand. It took the entire night for Logan and St. John to become friends. It took even longer for Logan to come to a decision. He was standing next to him as Marie came flouncing down to breakfast. He remembered the impassive look on Logan's face as Marie asked him again. "Logan? Did you decide? If you'd give me away, I mean." St. John himself had been asked to be the best man. He remembered so well the effort it seemed to take for the Wolverine to accept what was happening to his mate and nod his head in affirmation. Marie had flung herself into Logan's arms and squeezed him after that. "Thanks so much, Logan! I told Remy you'd never let me down." He voice was so happy that both men couldn't really have any reason to not do as she asked. She ran off, then, to tell her fiancé, St. John supposed. It left Logan standing shell- shocked outside the main dining room. Then, something St. John had never seen before nor since, happened. With tears in his eyes, the Wolverine turned to look at him. "Pyro. Tell me I'm doing the right thing," All St. John could do was lead the man to the garage and hand him the keys to Scott's bike./
Looking back now, St. John hated himself. He was the reason Logan left. The next few months were hard on Marie, planning by herself. More than once she had barged into he Professor's office, demanding that the man use the Cerebro to track down her best friend. He'd never do it though, never find the Wolverine when it was so obvious that he wanted to be left alone. Then, the day of her wedding came. He was the reason the Marie was kidnapped.
*It's my fault she's different. It's my fault that she has another voice in her head. It's my fault that she has these powers. It's my fault she's cold.*
/The day was bright and sunny, thanks to Ororo. Everything had been planed and everything was smoothly rolling along. The only damper on the day was the off-handed comment of Scott wondering out loud when Jean would start planning their ceremony. All the guests had been seated outside the Mansion, in Ororo's best rose garden, and the wedding procession had already come down the aisle, Loganless. Thankfully, the Professor had not taken offense to being asked to fill in for Logan. The two smallest darker spots of the day didn't seem to dim the day's happiness. When Judge however, started the ceremony, a Blackhawk, similar to the plastic ones sitting in the X-Men's underground garage, flew over, releasing people that they knew (the Brotherhood) and people who only Gambit had ever seen before. The battle was quick and few were wounded. Destroying the X-Men had not been the mission objective. Taking Rogue, however, was. In the days that followed, hindsight was the proverbial 20/20. St. John even remembered joking, humorlessly, that it was 20/15. Everything had become clear. Remy was their mole. He had gone with the attackers, an unconscious Marie in his arms. Loopholes in the security system were found, courtesy of the thief. Phone calls were traced and reheard as Remy had left his cell phone. The 4 years that Remy had been there were all a cover. His mission was only to grow close to one of the X-Men. /
He still blamed himself. Everyone at the Mansion had blamed themselves, but St. John felt that his was the most deserved. If only he hadn't given Logan the keys. He shook himself.
*No use crying over spilt perfume*.
St. John laughed. The sound sounded strange as it ricocheted of the metal in the MedBay. Marie had told him that when she had been rescued. He remembered finding it ironic since she never wore it much. He took a deep breath. He could still smell the vanilla and cinnamon that she always wore if she decided to wear a scent at all. Suddenly he remembered she started wearing it after Logan was gone for the 1st two years. It took two missions to get Rouge safely back in the Mansion. Logan wasn't called, which was against St. John's opinion, but in the end he wasn't heeded. He was thankful however, that it was him who found her. She was strapped to a table, having been enhanced with Ms. Marvel's powers. The only good part was that Rogue could now control her 'gift'.
He sighed. That was 2 years ago. Rogue had built her confidence up and rejoined the team. Only he knew the reason behind the kidnapping. Remy had given his firstborn child to the Thieves Guild. They were tired of waiting. The Brotherhood wanted Rogue to be on their side, an enhanced mutant. They had joined forces to kidnap Marie. She was seen as an easy target and a solution for both sides. Rouge had taken it hard, especially since Logan had been gone for the entire thing.
He sighed again. She should have already awakened, but everything had always been a gamble with Rouge.
*She chose her name well*
It was a humorless thought.
While most of the Mansion's residents drank themselves silly in times of depression, she had just gone to the nearest techno joint and danced. As others no longer fought to control their 'gifts' she seemed to be fighting harder than before. When others lost their cool, she remained calm and collect, but went to pieces with such vehement ferocity that she had almost become as legendary as the Wolverine. Yet, she was adored by the younger residents. She was referred to as 'ice queen'.was notoriously known as the perfect definition for 'unattainable' and yet she gave her heart freely.to jerks like Logan and Remy. St. John was determined to prove her wrong that he would also be in that category. HE would not be the asshole. It was the main reason he sat here. Outside of pure friendship, of course. Rouge was a paradox personified. You were almost never sure where you stood with her, yet she was so blunt and open that you wondered how that could be.
St John almost jumped as the small, pale hand squeezed him back.
***********any tips/suggestions on how to differentiate fonts for stressed words, memories, thoughts ect are gratefully wanted. Reviews too! ;)