It should all be too much to deal with at once, but I'm doing just that.
Somehow, with a strength I never would of guessed I possessed, I was coping with every twist this week put into my path, whether it took me in a good or bad direction.
The woman I'd simply been staring at for nearly an hour had a lot to do with it.
My relationship with Jean had been rather rocky in the beginning. She had been correct in telling Logan I was "taken" with him and I resented her for sharing that bit of information and also for being the one to attract his attention from me. Even as I got more serious about Bobby and told myself I loved him and had felt only hero-worship kind of infatuation with Logan, I was downright bitchy to Jean.
'Ro slowly did away with that attitude without my even knowing it.
I often turned to Storm for guidance and conversation, trusting the lovely weather Goddess with all my secrets. She knew of my feelings toward Jean, but never said anything to discourage my having them. Instead, she carefully began pulling Jean into my friendship with her and I into her friendship with Jean.
Before Jean or myself knew what was happening, there were no longer two separate friendships. It was now Jean, Ororo, and myself. Easily sharing confidences like long time friends. For the past three years the two women had been mother, sister, and confidante to me whenever I needed them.
Sunday, that day at the Lake, I nearly curled into myself and let the others inside me take over when I heard Logan say, "She's gone" and watched Scott collapse. It would have been so easy to give into the grief I too felt, but as we made our way to Washington, I knew I could not. Jean had sacrificed herself so that we would all live and I would not let her sacrifice be in vain – and certainly not the thing to finally destroy me.
Finally feeling myself to be worthy of the company of the X-Men, I presented the President of these United States with the information Kitty had retrieved from Stryker's offices. With a firm stare, I dared the world leader to ignore what we showed him and make the speech he had planned that would have sealed the fate of all mutants. Grieving, we all presented the President with a compelling argument he did not dare to challenge.
His speech, when made, prompted acceptance among us all. With eloquence and passion, he slowly calmed his citizens and made them see that killing one another would do nothing but kill us all. "To do that, my fellow Americans, would make us all true monsters," I vividly remember him concluding. We had listened to the speech in the Blackbird on our way back to the mansion, and I had cried at that line, which touched on the fact that so many wrongly felt us – mutants – to be monsters.
Jean's death had had a devastating impact on us all, but I knew Logan was taking it as hard if not harder than Scott. When he left the jet the second we landed back here, I did not hesitate to follow him the second I could. He had saved my life and comforted me in so many ways when I needed him three years ago and nothing on Earth would stop me from doing the same for him now.
I knew I could only help him if I was strong and so that's what I was.
When I found him in the woods surrounding the school, I did not flinch as the grieving Wolverine turned on my with his claws unleashed.
I did not respond to his snarled orders and profanity as he tried to get me to leave him alone.
I walked straight to him and looked right into his wild, tear-filled eyes. His claws had retracted when I placed a gentle, gloved palm against his muttonchops and allowed my fingertips to follow the path of a single tear down his face.
Within the next heartbeat, I had found myself kneeling over him on the ground as sobs racked his body. I held him as tight as I could and allowed myself to grieve with him for a few moments.
He hadn't wanted me to see him cry, I know that. He had never known such emotions before and he wanted no witnesses to it, but I wasn't about to allow that.
After the worst had passed, I rolled him onto his back and forced myself into his arms. It had taken him a full minute before he responded and wrapped me in his embrace, nearly breaking my ribs when he finally did.
We had stayed out there until morning came, each of us crying until there was nothing left and then just clinging to the other.
That night had been enough for me, but Logan – the Wolverine rather - needed more.
I had spent every second of the next day consoling them both. We talked calmly, found more tears to shed, argued, screamed at one another and even fought.
He hit me with words constantly, then just once with his fist. I had let nothing hold me back and hit him just as much with my own words before attacking him with kicks and punches.
It had been the ugliest, most raw and violent day of my life, but it was what the Wolverine demanded to accept his grief.
I'm probably the only other person who can understand what Logan goes through having the Wolverine inside, but somehow separate from him. I've become an expert on it, juggling five…now seven…people in my mind.
Bobby had been added Friday night when we kissed in his bedroom in Boston, followed by John who I touched to get under control Sunday morning. They joined David, Magneto, Logan, Marie and Rogue. Over time the "me" inside had split into those last two separate parts - Marie and Rogue.
That brief whisper of Bobby's name across my thoughts shifted my focus to him with more feelings of guilt and regret at how I had been ignoring him. I still wasn't able to face him knowing what I now did, afraid of how he would take it.
I had really thought I was doing something right there, with the relationship we had. Bobby and I were happy for a long time, even with only innocent touches and frustrating near kisses. When Logan had returned Friday afternoon, it had still felt right to be with Bobby. My feelings for Logan remained, but I saw them differently in that moment the three of us shared in the foyer the day he arrived.
I finally even let Bobby kiss me that night – twice - after we'd arrived to the safety of his parents' home in Boston far away from the nightmare of soldiers invading the school. And the kisses had been good.
Great even.
The first quick and chaste, the second longer and more passionate.
That second one had mind-blowing before Bobby abruptly ended it as my mutation kicked in.
With hindsight, I see that maybe it was the fact that I was kissing someone with an actual kiss and not killing them that had blown my mind, not my feelings for Bobby. It only lasted a few seconds, but that was seconds longer than I had allowed myself to hope for in the four years since learning of my mutation.
Seeing Logan shot right between the eyes and fall, dead I thought, onto the porch of Bobby's home rid me of any illusions that I did or could ever love anyone but that man as he'd lain motionless before me. How I managed to keep it together then or moments later when he regained consciousness, I will never know.
Shaking myself from those thoughts that had swirled within me for the past few days, I came back to the miraculous events of today.
After verifying that Jean was indeed in the lab and alive, I'd flown into Scott's arms to share a moment of joyous laughter and tears. Once, the whirlwind of emotion died down, I had taken a seat off to the side and simply watched the others visit with Jean, while my mind raced from past to present and back again.
I was so quiet that Hank didn't tell me to leave when he shooed Kurt, Logan, and Ororo from the room. I was so distracted I didn't even think of follow them.
"How have you been, Rogue?" Scott suddenly asks from beside me, breaking the silence of the lab.
Stunned by the question and not believing for a second that after all he'd been through he would want to hear anything I could say, I just stared at him blankly.
"It's been one hell of week, but I've not been oblivious to everything but myself during it, Rogue. Jean is back and alive, so I can stop grieving. Now I need something to distract me while she heals." He explains with a slight smile. "Talk to me."
"Ah don't think Ah can. Everything is so….jumbled." I confess.
"I know what you mean," he said returning his attention back to the woman laying so still and silent on the table about six feet in front of us.
Just like that, we lapse into silence again and return to our thoughts.
Another hour passes before sound of my growling stomach adds itself to the rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring Jean.
At the noise, we share the first genuine laugh either of us has had in a week and I rise with the intention of leaving to find food. "Can I get you something?"
"No thanks." Scott replies with a shake of his head.
In an instant, hunger is forgotten and I am concerned for the fearless leader of the X-Men.
I really looked at him for the first time and noticed the signs of fatigue left by the emotional rollercoaster he'd been on. Today, he was not clean-shaven and neatly dressed as he always was in the presence of others. A very light stubble covered his jaw and he wore only well worn old sweatpants and a T-shirt. No shoes or even a pair of socks.
"Scott," I begin, sitting down again and meeting his gaze. "Ah know how you're feeling right now, but you still have to take care of yourself."
He gives me that half grin again that's a little like Logan's. "I'm sure I look a fright, but I'm fine. Hank will make sure I eat when he does, as he did this morning."
Pleased by that fact, I rise again. "Ah must at least insist on getting you a pair of shoes. As my mother used to say, 'you'll catch your death of cold if you keep running around barefoot.'"
"Really?" he asks, distracted by my vague reference to the mother who had long ago rejected me.
"Uh-huh. Ah hated covering my feet with a passion as a child and she was always yelling those words after me until Ah surrendered and put on my shoes."
He laughs again at that little story before nodding, "By all means, then, bring me a pair of sneakers after you've eaten. There's a wide variety of them in my closet, just grab the oldest pair you see."
"Really keeping with the scruffy, unkempt wildman look, eh?" I tease.
*Goodness, another laugh, I'm becoming an expert at getting them to pop out today.*
"Wouldn't dream of copying Logan's style, I just want to be comfortable." He jokes back.
I leave the lab smiling happily for the first time in what felt like forever and went off searching for food.
~*~
Logan and I collided in the hallway outside Scott and Jean's room about an hour later. I drop the worn jogging shoes I carried and fight to keep from falling on my butt at the impact. Seeing my struggle, he grabs my waist to steady me.
Breathless from that automatic gesture on his part, I stare at his beautiful face.
"What are you doing here, kid?" he asks, abruptly releasing his hold and stepping back.
Bending to pick up Scott's shoes I wave them in answer and explain, "Scott wasn't been wearing shoes all day so Ah came to get him a pair."
I watch him bite back some quick, snide remark about "Cyke" or "Scooter" as he almost forgets that Scott and himself are as close to being friends now as anyone gets with Logan.
"Wanna come with me to take them to him? Ah'm sure Hank won't chase you if you're with me."
He gives a gruff bark of laughter and says, "I ain't afraid of that doctor."
Knowing he feared very little, I simply smiled at that and waited for him to indicate whether he planned to accompany me.
Sensing my impatience at a response he quirks his lips into a his half-smile and with a sweeping gesture for me to pass says, "Lead on."
I roll my eyes at him and we begin on our way. It's amazing how …. normal this is, all things considered.
"Am Ah forgiven yet?" I can't resist asking.
"Nothing to forgive, kid."
"If you're sure about that, then Ah've got reason to be mighty mad at you for avoiding me the last two days."
"Ain't been avoiding you, I've been working. I'd think after the meeting this morning you'd know that." He gives me a look intended to make me feel foolish and back down.
"So you're saying had it not been for the mission you were on, we'd have spent more time together?" I challenge.
"We're not joined at the freakin' hip, Rogue," he growls.
"Sad, but true," I say, trying to cover it with a loud sigh.
Another growl tells me his keen hearing picked up on it and the sigh. Without another word we continue to the lab.
Entering the room and standing just inside the door, I gesture to Scott with the shoes I carried, "Is this a good pair?"
He nods and I go to give them to him when Logan pushes past me, demanding to know how Jean was doing. Wondering that myself, I quickly give Scott his shoes and focus on Dr. McCoy's response.
"Would it do any good to bar you from this room, Wolverine?" the doctor asks turning from his charts.
Logan simply arches a brow and Hank smiles. "Thought not. Her condition remains the same, as it probably will for a few days yet."
"Shouldn't she be showing some sign of waking up yet?" I ask the question that so worries me.
"I believe she has. Both Scott and Storm have indicated to me that she has fluttered her eyelids in response to some of their words or actions and I have seen her make similar gestures during tests, indicating that some part of her mind is active enough to be aware of her surroundings. You have to remember that of the 206 bones in Jean's body, nearly half have been broken. The painkillers I am giving combined with the body's natural response to such injures would keep anyone unconscious, so we've no real reason to fear she will not awaken soon." The doctor informs me.
Accepting that, I move to stand with Logan at Jean's side.
Her head is wrapped due to her concussion and plaster or a thin blue blanket covers all but her face. Her left arm and leg are raised to angles best suited for healing the bones broken there. The body cast encased everything except for her right arm and leg, which were battered and bruised, but not broken.
It was painful for me to again see Jean in this state, but considering the other option I take the sight in gladly.
As if sensing my gaze, her eyelids do the flutter Hank had mentioned and I grab Logan's hand excitedly. We both wait breathlessly for more, but sadly she does not open those eyes.
I feel impatience, frustration, and worry tense Logan's body as with a growl he pulls away from me and leaves the room.
For once uncertain, I bit my lip and do not follow him.
I don't know what he's feeling or thinking now. When we thought Jean to be dead, it was easy to know that he was grieving like the rest of us.
He had mourned her loss as deeply and as much as Scott had, proving his feelings for Jean were not shallow or temporary and that fact gave me pause.
*Now that she was alive again….*
I just didn't know.
"It's not love," Scott says quietly from beside me. "At least, not the love I feel for her."
"Huh?" I ask him.
"Logan. He cares for Jean deeply, probably even does love her, but it isn't what I feel for her. You don't have to be afraid of that. He just wants her better like we all do and, being Logan, expresses it with growling and wanting to be alone."
"Able to read minds now?" I say once the words sink in and clear up my confusion.
"No, just your expression. You love him don't you?" he asks, moving around me to clasp Jean's hand in his own.
"Is it still so obvious?" I ask, thinking how easily Jean had been able to identify my emotions for Logan three years ago.
"No, not to everyone, but I've learned enough about the emotion to recognize it." He leans down and kisses Jean's lips before turning to face me head on. "Don't be afraid of it, Rogue. I don't know what Logan feels for you, but if you love him, fight for him. You never know what will happen in life, take every bit of happiness you can while you can."
His words and the passion behind them surprised me. Not knowing why he said them or what to say in response, I just stared at my reflection in his ruby red tinted sunglasses.
"I almost lost Jean," he said, turning to stroke the woman's cheek. "We'd been together six years and in the days I thought she was dead, I relived and regretted every second of the months before we got together where we were so unsure of ourselves and feelings to acknowledge them. You've waited three years, Rogue. There wasn't much you could do in that time, but he's here now. Don't waste anymore time you'll live to regret later."
Finally I understood and I hugged him tightly in silent thanks, both of us in that moment missing the smile that touched Jean's lips.
I pulled away and rushed from the room seconds later.
Before I could follow Scott's instructions, there was something else I had to do.
~*~
Bobby was slow to open his door after I worked up the courage to knock on it. When he did, I was surprised to find his eyes blurry with sleep and his clothing wrinkled as if he'd been laying in it.
"Are you ok?" I ask, distracted by his appearance from my original objective.
"Yeah," he rubbed his eyes "I was just taking a nap."
"Should Ah come back?"
"No, I'm awake." He opens the door and waves me inside.
I move to take a seat on John's bed, not wanting to have this discussion sitting on Bobby's as I usually did when I was in this room. Having been in the room quite a few times before, I instantly realized that items were missing.
*John's things were gone.*
"Where's John's stuff?"
"Pyro came and got it earlier." Bobby says, wearily taking a seat on his own bed.
"Pyro? You mean John was here?"
"No. It was Pyro. John is gone."
I gasp, realizing what he was saying.
*Our friend truly had left us to join Magneto.*
*God, when would the traumas stemming from Stryker's actions stop?*
"We knew it the day at the Lake, Rogue. Now we just have to accept it." Bobby said with a maturity he'd never shown before.
I was ashamed of myself in that moment for only just realizing how difficult the week must have been for him.
As if sensing the words of apology forming on my lips and not wanting to hear them, he breaks the silence that was nearing uncomfortable.
"How's Jean?"
The abrupt change of subject takes a moment to adjust to before I answer, "She's doing well, I think. Dr. McCoy seems very pleased and optimistic. You should have come with us to visit her."
"I couldn't," I barely hear his whispered words.
He changes the subject again as if once more sensing what I was going to say and not wanting to hear it.
"This is it, isn't it?"
The change is too abrupt that time for me to follow and he continues before I can answer.
"You're here to end it."
His insight and lack of surprise or anger startled me.
He actually smiled a little at my shock and moved to sit beside me. "I already knew. I knew when you went to Logan."
"Really?" I finally find my voice.
He nods.
"Are you ok?"
"It hurts, I can't lie about that, but I'll get over it." He grips one of my hands reassuringly and smiles sadly before rising to stand beside the one small window in the room.
"Ah'm sorry," I whisper, wanting to go stand with him but too ashamed to do so.
"Don't be. I'm not. Not for a second," he turns to look into my suddenly teary eyes.
The truth of his words is in the clear blue gaze locked with mine, causing me to gasp with amazement.
*Amazed that he did not hate me.*
*Amazed that he truly meant he didn't regret feeling what he'd felt for me, even if it had never really been returned.*
*Amazed that before me stood a man where such a short time ago there had been a carefree teenaged boy.*
*Amazed to realize I really did love him, as deeply as one can love another platonically, and with realization see that I would not lose him by loving another more.*
I jump to my feet and rush to hug him tightly. The tears fall down my face as I thank him with words and this show of emotion for being more of a man than I ever gave him credit for.
For a moment, he returns the embrace before pushing me away.
"You're going after him, aren't you?" he asked and I knew the fact pained him, even though he accepted it.
Hating to hurt him, I nodded slowly and dried my eyes.
He turned to stare out the window into the approaching night.
Accepting the dismissal, I lowered my head and made my way from the room. As I pulled the door shut behind me, I barely heard the words he spoke without turning from his contemplation of the world outside his window.
I did hear them though and I swallowed back more tears as they follow me on my search for Logan.
*"Good luck."*