Misplaced Guilt

By Adalanta

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are the property of Bryan Singer and whoever else owns the rights to X-Men. (And that's not me.)

Author's Note: Hello! This is my first foray into the X-Men fanfiction universe even though I've been a fan of the comic for years and absolutely loved the first X-men movie. I was inspired to write this short piece after seeing X2 and the wonderful performances of Anna Paquin (Rogue) and Shawn Ashmore (Iceman) gave. Anyway, please take a second to leave a review and let me know what you think or you can email me personally at adalanta14@yahoo.com. I crave reviews like Wolverine craves Jean Grey. Hope you Enjoy!

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He'd said he was going for a walk.

That'd been two hours ago, and he still wasn't back.

Marie was worried. For the last twenty minutes, she'd been pacing nervously back and forth underneath the Blackbird, glancing every few steps out into the darkness, looking like a worried parent waiting up for her teenager to return from a late night date. She'd spoken briefly to Kurt, but the blue mutant could not help her, having not seen him for some time. She would have gone to Logan; after all, with his super-enhanced senses, he was the best tracker hands down. One small problem, though – he and all of the other grown-ups (she frowned at the term) were having a pow-wow; a meeting that they'd been warned not to interrupt for any reason other than life or death.

And there was no way that she would ask John for help. The other teenager gave her the creeps. He's out of control, she thought uncomfortably, running a gloved hand through her long dark hair. He could have killed someone, and he didn't even care! No, she decided to stay clear of Pyro for the time being.

"Well, I guess I'm on my own," she muttered to herself and strode off into woods to search for her missing boyfriend.

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She finally found him in a small clearing about a quarter mile away from the Blackbird, sitting on a fallen tree. He was hunched over, elbows resting on his knees, staring sightlessly into the tiny fire he'd started. His whole posture radiated misery, something she'd never before witnessed in all of the months she'd been at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

Oh, Bobby, she sighed mentally, standing in the tree line about ten feet away, her gaze filled with sympathy and compassion.

She'd known something was wrong. He'd been so quiet – almost withdrawn – after they'd fled his family's home in Boston. Things had been too chaotic after that to even think about talking to him, what with the military jets attacking them and blowing them out of the sky.

Just the mere thought of that made her shiver, and she unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself. She'd never forget how close she'd come to dying. It had all happened so fast. One second, she was clutching her unfastened safety belt with two white knuckled fists, and the next, she was falling, falling, the wind pushing her all around, so shocked that she couldn't even scream, only able to watch helplessly as her death zoomed towards her, closer, closer…and then…

…a miracle. A strangely wrapped miracle to be sure – with blue fur, sharp teeth, yellow eyes, and a pointed tail, Kurt Wagner looked more like a demon of legend than her guardian angel, but that's exactly what he'd been. He'd wrapped her securely in his arms, legs, and tail and then…bamff…they were on the floor of the Blackbird, the weight of his body sheltering her from the rush of air trying to suck everything out of the hole in the jet.

Shaking her mind free from the vivid, adrenaline-pumping memories, she forced herself to focus on the situation at hand. Well, I guess I get to make the first move. I could wait here all night and never get his attention. "Bobby?" she drawled softly in a thick Southern accent, wanting to get his attention but not startle him.

He remained silent, not acknowledging her presence. She took several steps closer, the fallen leaves crunching and crackling beneath her feet, purposefully stepping on a small branch, the loud snap sounding like a gunshot as it reverberated through the dark forest. He didn't even blink, just continued to stare with a fixed gaze into the small orange and yellow flames swaying hypnotically before him.

"Bobby," she called again, more urgently this time, allowing some of the concern she felt to bleed into her voice.

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "Marie…please…go back to the Bird."

"Why? I want to stay here with you. Why else would I go to all the trouble of finding you?"

"I just…I need to be alone right now. I don't feel like talking to anyone."

He sounded so weary and drained that she almost wavered, but then she remembered what one of her foster mothers had once told her. Sometimes, the person who protests the hardest is the one who needs the most help. Boy, isn't that the truth! "All right," she agreed mildly, "then we won't talk. I'll just sit right here next to ya and keep ya company." She quickly sat down next to him on the log, knowing that no matter how upset he was, his proper Bostonian upbringing would keep her from being literally pushed off or shoved away. He would never be rude to her.

Silence fell over their tiny campground as the nightlife started up again. The chirping of crickets sounded nearby every few seconds, a familiar, bittersweet sound from her earlier childhood. A nightingale trilled deeper inside the forest, its faint song melancholy and haunting.

Letting her eyelids flutter shut, she took a deep breath, enjoying the living scent of the air around her. The forest had an old, musty, piney smell to it as the damp, rich earth joined forces with the fragrant evergreen trees. It was an odd smell, but not an unpleasant one.

It's so peaceful here, she mused, allowing her tense body to slightly relax. I could stay here all night and be perfectly content. Well…almost. It wouldn't be truly perfect unless I was in Bobby's arms. Her face instantly grew warm, and she knew that she was blushing. Oh, come on! she told herself sternly. I just want to cuddle, that all. Thankfully, her embarrassment disappeared shortly, and she let her mind drift.

Bobby voice startled her when he spoke at last. "I never meant to cause them trouble," he said flatly.

It took a few seconds before she could decipher who he was talking about. "Your parents?"

He nodded. "…and Ronny," he added, shifting nervously, realizing that he was speaking about the person who had betrayed them to the police and could have caused their deaths. "I should never have gone there."

"You had every right to go there," she protested quietly, the nightingale's song providing an eerie accompaniment to her words. "It was your home. They're your family. You thought you'd be safe there."

"Safe?" The word came out sounding incredulous. He finally turned to look at her, his ice blue eyes so pained and filled with guilt that they momentarily stole her breath, like a frigid northern wind. "I nearly got us arrested and Logan killed because I suggested that 'safe' place. I put my parents and brother in danger at that 'safe' place. And I got how many others injured while just doing their job to remove us from that 'safe' place."

Her eyes widened as she understood the depth of his guilty feelings. She shook her head in shock. "Bobby, this is not your fault!"

"No?" he asked bitterly, "Then whose fault is it?"

It hurt her to say it, but it was the truth. "Ronny's."

"Because I put him in that situation," the young man shot back.

"No!"

"Yes! Don't you get it? I've always been the 'golden son.' I was the 'gifted' one that was sent off to a special school. Ronny's always felt that he wasn't good enough or smart enough whenever I was around. After all, why else would I be recruited to go to Xavier's and not him?" He raked a hand roughly through his short blond, spiky hair. "And then I show up with my powers, able to do things that he could not learn but also could never do, no matter how hard he'd try. Of course, he's going to be jealous, hurt…angry." He laughed once, a harsh, bitter, totally un-Bobby-like sound. "I pushed him into a corner, and he reacted the only way he could think of."

"By turning you over to the cops?!" she shouted, frustrated beyond belief at his narrow-mindedness.

"By removing the threat," he replied sadly, hunching back over his knees, defeated.

"You are his brother – not a threat."

"Not in his eyes."

"Well, then he needs to open his eyes and get a new look on life!" Realizing that her voice was now raised in a shout, she tried to calm down and consciously lower her tone, while at the same time placing a white gloved hand on his left cheek and gently turning him to face her. "Bobby…Ronny had a choice to make, and he made it – not you, not me, not your parents, not even the cops. Ronny did – all by himself." She paused for a few seconds for her words to sink in, staring straight into his eyes. When she continued, she spoke softly and slowly, enunciating each and every word. "None of what happened was your fault. Please believe me."

"Marie," he whispered her name shakily. "I almost lost you." Silent tears began to spill from his blue eyes, only to freeze solid halfway down his cheeks, looking for all the world like he was crying crystalline tears. "The plane exploded, and you flew out before I could reach for you, and I…I thought that I'd killed you." He twisted his upper body away from her and buried his face in his shaking hands.

The harsh sobs tore her bleeding heart to bloody ribbons. She slowly pulled him into her arms, careful not to brush any of his exposed skin with her own, and held him tenderly as he cried, knowing that the emotional release was what he needed the most. That, and a loving friend to help him through it. He'd lost his school, his home, his family, and his innocence in less than 24 hours, a staggering blow to any adult and an almost lethal one to a teenager.

She couldn't keep from shedding her own tears as the magnitude of all that had happened in the last day hit her full force. She'd just barely escaped being captured by Stryker's army, been shot at by the police, sucked out of the back of a jet, and nearly crashed when she'd miraculously gotten back inside. Talk about a busy day, she thought as her tears abated.

After a few minutes, Bobby calmed down and raised his tear streaked, utterly exhausted face. When she looked closely, she saw that his eyes were clear at last, the terrible guilt and agony it had spawned now purged from the icy-blue depths. And, while they were not yet lively, they were peaceful, which was more than she had hoped for when the conversation had started. The Bobby Drake she knew would return when this was all over, perhaps a little wiser and more serious, but he would be back.

And she loved him all the more for it.

His eyes captured hers as he whispered softly, "I love you, Marie."

She smiled tenderly back at him, eyes glowing with happiness and love. "I love you, too, Bobby."

Wordlessly, they moved onto the ground and leaned back against the fallen log, completely relaxed. This time, Bobby took Marie into his arms and closed his eyes. And Marie got her perfect night as she cuddled up close against the boy she loved and fell asleep, lulled into pleasant dreams by the nightingale's song.