Disclaimers: All the usual
A/N: Okay, I couldn't help going ahead with the next chapter. If anyone out
there is interested, I could definitely use a beta reader! I tend to
ramble, among other things, and sometimes get confusing with my many
'rabbit trails'. :D As always, please R&R. Feedback is definitely welcome!
Contemplation and Complications
It had been four years since she'd seem him for more than a passing hello in the hallways or a quick ruffle of her hair with a, "Heya, kid," after a meal. Rogue sighed as she pulled the zipper up on her uniform, trying not to think about it. She knew without a doubt that he purposefully avoided her and she was fairly certain she knew why, too. But then, truthfully, while his attitude and distance had been frustrating, it had been good for her, too. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she pulled on her boots and smiled wryly, letting the memories flood her mind.
She'd been sixteen when she first met Logan and infatuated beyond belief from the very beginning. It was embarrassing to remember, even in private. Of course, she hadn't exactly been subtle in her puppy love, either, so pretty much everyone around at the time was aware of her feelings. Rogue stood and walked over to the dresser to pull her hair back in a ponytail. "Where is all this coming from?" she murmured to her reflection. Thoughts of Logan had been plaguing her for the last few days, like they hadn't for ages. Not to say she didn't think of him often; wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was safe, but still, things had been different lately.
She glanced at the clock, shocked to see she was early for once. Besides, this wasn't a 'real' mission, today, but a field training exercise. Regardless, she decided to take a few moments for the meditation the Professor had taught her as she was learning to control her powers. Lying back on the bed, her feet dangling just above the floor, she closed her eyes, started slow, deep breaths and attempted to empty her mind. After a minute, her composed features twitched and she tried to settle herself again. Eventually the deep breathing was replaced by a groan and a softly muttered curse. With that, she gave in to where her mind really wanted to go. Logan. The Wolverine.
A smile stretched Rogue's pert features as she allowed herself a little mental trip down memory lane. The very things about Logan that put most people off were the things that had always drawn her to him. His fierceness and abrasive personality simply endeared him to her. Of course, the fact that he'd saved her life nearly at the cost of his own didn't hurt her perspective, either. He'd taken care of her in other ways, too. Even the way he kept his distance. She understood that he didn't particularly like the idea of being drawn to a teenager and she could accept that, but from the first, they'd had a connection that she couldn't put into words if her life depended on it. It was there, though. Almost tangible at times.
And now she was undeniably grown up. She sighed and opened her eyes, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling. There was a part of her that she could never quite silence that insisted she and Logan were the other halves of each other. In her wilder flights of fancy in years past, she'd likened their potential connection to what Scott and Jean had. She snorted softly, lifting a hand to absently run through her hair. The difference was that Scott didn't run from Jean as if someone had set him on fire. Jean also had the luxury of the man she loved being around for more than a handful of days each year.
"And that's why, my dear," Rogue told herself as she sat up, "you long ago decided not to sit around and pine over the man." She stared down at her hands, now bare of the gloves that used to be her trademark before Xavier trained her to control her power. When that day had come, oh, how she'd hoped Logan would be around, but all she had had was the Logan rattling around in her head with the rest of what she called her 'captives'. And that was the day she knew she had to put together an adult life that didn't hinge on hoping and praying Logan would come for her. She'd never totally given up hope, but she'd buried that desire deep so that it didn't become the centerpiece of her life.
Since then, she'd made a good life for herself. Rogue the rebellious teenager had developed into Rogue, a respected member of the X-Men, a mentor to youngsters at the academy like she herself had once been, and a desired, sought after young woman. Jean and Ro had taken her in hand and tamed her brashness into gentility and her acerbic demeanor into such sweetness that many who didn't know her well missed the steel under the magnolia surface. But the Rogue that had been was still there, without a doubt. She'd just learned a lot of lessons over the years about what worked with certain people and not with others.
She'd also learned lessons about herself as a mutant. Rogue looked up into the mirror and wondered if she'd look different to Logan. If somehow he'd know. Once she'd become a full member of the team of X-Men, it became inevitable that she'd use her power in combat. What no one had realized is that her 'abilities' extended to permanently imprinting the powers of other mutants if she held on long enough. Unfortunately in some circumstances, 'long enough' meant bringing the other mutant to a near-death state. But due to that little 'quirk', her powers were now such that made her something of a legend even within the mutant community.
"Well, so much for gathering my thoughts and clearing my mind," she drawled out loud to herself just as a discreet tone sounded in her suite. It was time for her to make her way down to the Blackbird. Just as well, she thought, letting go of her jumbled musings. She stopped at the window and looked out at the late afternoon sun shining over the manicured lawns. "Wherever you are, Logan, I hope you're finding what you're looking for," she murmured, touching her fingers to the pane as if she could touch the man in question. "I don't know why you're in my head today, but I hope." she trailed off, unwilling to put what she hoped into words. Other than wishing him well, she honestly didn't know. With a rueful shake of her head, she grabbed her gear and headed out of the room. Duty called. She could examine the state of her life and her heart another day.
It was supposed to have been a very run of the mill training exercise. Granted, Scott's training exercises were never mundane, but more often challenging to the point of being too real. Still, from the moment they touched down in the clearing, Rogue's nerves were jangling enough to make her jittery. She'd glanced around at the other team members, trying to gauge their reactions to the surroundings, but everyone else seemed perfectly at ease, if on alert.
They'd hiked a couple of hours in the darkness before they reached the appointed spot. Scott was just getting ready to give instructions when all hell broke loose from the darkness, shocking the team with the ferocity of the attack. At first Rogue-as well as many of the others-thought this was a new ploy on Scott's part to intensify the training, but it soon became obvious that this was mortal combat. The attackers seemed to flow out of the dense forest in alarming numbers, but the team was able to hold their own. At first. The situation quickly became dire, though, simply based on numbers. With each of the ten X-Men holding off five or six attackers, their abilities were stretched to the limit. Even Rogue, having mastered her newer flight ability was struggling to hold off the horde moving closer and closer around her. Just as she was about to level a mutant who kept the grass at her feet creeping up her legs like ropes of steel, a short, sharp scream brought her around just in time to see Ororo plummet from the sky. The wind and lightning the weather goddess had been flinging suddenly stopped and the momentary stillness in the glade became deafening. In that instant, Rogue felt something incredibly hard slam into the back of her head. The last thing she saw as she faded into unconsciousness was Jean on her knees, shaking, as she attempted to keep Ororo's body from hitting the ground with fatal intensity.
Contemplation and Complications
It had been four years since she'd seem him for more than a passing hello in the hallways or a quick ruffle of her hair with a, "Heya, kid," after a meal. Rogue sighed as she pulled the zipper up on her uniform, trying not to think about it. She knew without a doubt that he purposefully avoided her and she was fairly certain she knew why, too. But then, truthfully, while his attitude and distance had been frustrating, it had been good for her, too. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she pulled on her boots and smiled wryly, letting the memories flood her mind.
She'd been sixteen when she first met Logan and infatuated beyond belief from the very beginning. It was embarrassing to remember, even in private. Of course, she hadn't exactly been subtle in her puppy love, either, so pretty much everyone around at the time was aware of her feelings. Rogue stood and walked over to the dresser to pull her hair back in a ponytail. "Where is all this coming from?" she murmured to her reflection. Thoughts of Logan had been plaguing her for the last few days, like they hadn't for ages. Not to say she didn't think of him often; wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was safe, but still, things had been different lately.
She glanced at the clock, shocked to see she was early for once. Besides, this wasn't a 'real' mission, today, but a field training exercise. Regardless, she decided to take a few moments for the meditation the Professor had taught her as she was learning to control her powers. Lying back on the bed, her feet dangling just above the floor, she closed her eyes, started slow, deep breaths and attempted to empty her mind. After a minute, her composed features twitched and she tried to settle herself again. Eventually the deep breathing was replaced by a groan and a softly muttered curse. With that, she gave in to where her mind really wanted to go. Logan. The Wolverine.
A smile stretched Rogue's pert features as she allowed herself a little mental trip down memory lane. The very things about Logan that put most people off were the things that had always drawn her to him. His fierceness and abrasive personality simply endeared him to her. Of course, the fact that he'd saved her life nearly at the cost of his own didn't hurt her perspective, either. He'd taken care of her in other ways, too. Even the way he kept his distance. She understood that he didn't particularly like the idea of being drawn to a teenager and she could accept that, but from the first, they'd had a connection that she couldn't put into words if her life depended on it. It was there, though. Almost tangible at times.
And now she was undeniably grown up. She sighed and opened her eyes, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling. There was a part of her that she could never quite silence that insisted she and Logan were the other halves of each other. In her wilder flights of fancy in years past, she'd likened their potential connection to what Scott and Jean had. She snorted softly, lifting a hand to absently run through her hair. The difference was that Scott didn't run from Jean as if someone had set him on fire. Jean also had the luxury of the man she loved being around for more than a handful of days each year.
"And that's why, my dear," Rogue told herself as she sat up, "you long ago decided not to sit around and pine over the man." She stared down at her hands, now bare of the gloves that used to be her trademark before Xavier trained her to control her power. When that day had come, oh, how she'd hoped Logan would be around, but all she had had was the Logan rattling around in her head with the rest of what she called her 'captives'. And that was the day she knew she had to put together an adult life that didn't hinge on hoping and praying Logan would come for her. She'd never totally given up hope, but she'd buried that desire deep so that it didn't become the centerpiece of her life.
Since then, she'd made a good life for herself. Rogue the rebellious teenager had developed into Rogue, a respected member of the X-Men, a mentor to youngsters at the academy like she herself had once been, and a desired, sought after young woman. Jean and Ro had taken her in hand and tamed her brashness into gentility and her acerbic demeanor into such sweetness that many who didn't know her well missed the steel under the magnolia surface. But the Rogue that had been was still there, without a doubt. She'd just learned a lot of lessons over the years about what worked with certain people and not with others.
She'd also learned lessons about herself as a mutant. Rogue looked up into the mirror and wondered if she'd look different to Logan. If somehow he'd know. Once she'd become a full member of the team of X-Men, it became inevitable that she'd use her power in combat. What no one had realized is that her 'abilities' extended to permanently imprinting the powers of other mutants if she held on long enough. Unfortunately in some circumstances, 'long enough' meant bringing the other mutant to a near-death state. But due to that little 'quirk', her powers were now such that made her something of a legend even within the mutant community.
"Well, so much for gathering my thoughts and clearing my mind," she drawled out loud to herself just as a discreet tone sounded in her suite. It was time for her to make her way down to the Blackbird. Just as well, she thought, letting go of her jumbled musings. She stopped at the window and looked out at the late afternoon sun shining over the manicured lawns. "Wherever you are, Logan, I hope you're finding what you're looking for," she murmured, touching her fingers to the pane as if she could touch the man in question. "I don't know why you're in my head today, but I hope." she trailed off, unwilling to put what she hoped into words. Other than wishing him well, she honestly didn't know. With a rueful shake of her head, she grabbed her gear and headed out of the room. Duty called. She could examine the state of her life and her heart another day.
It was supposed to have been a very run of the mill training exercise. Granted, Scott's training exercises were never mundane, but more often challenging to the point of being too real. Still, from the moment they touched down in the clearing, Rogue's nerves were jangling enough to make her jittery. She'd glanced around at the other team members, trying to gauge their reactions to the surroundings, but everyone else seemed perfectly at ease, if on alert.
They'd hiked a couple of hours in the darkness before they reached the appointed spot. Scott was just getting ready to give instructions when all hell broke loose from the darkness, shocking the team with the ferocity of the attack. At first Rogue-as well as many of the others-thought this was a new ploy on Scott's part to intensify the training, but it soon became obvious that this was mortal combat. The attackers seemed to flow out of the dense forest in alarming numbers, but the team was able to hold their own. At first. The situation quickly became dire, though, simply based on numbers. With each of the ten X-Men holding off five or six attackers, their abilities were stretched to the limit. Even Rogue, having mastered her newer flight ability was struggling to hold off the horde moving closer and closer around her. Just as she was about to level a mutant who kept the grass at her feet creeping up her legs like ropes of steel, a short, sharp scream brought her around just in time to see Ororo plummet from the sky. The wind and lightning the weather goddess had been flinging suddenly stopped and the momentary stillness in the glade became deafening. In that instant, Rogue felt something incredibly hard slam into the back of her head. The last thing she saw as she faded into unconsciousness was Jean on her knees, shaking, as she attempted to keep Ororo's body from hitting the ground with fatal intensity.