Title: Forgiveness
Author: Jenny11
Disclaimer: Characters and some lines are property of Marvel. Not me.
Archive Rights: I'm flattered, just ask.
Feedback: I'll love you forever. Could also mean advance snippets between long updates.
Rating: R
Notes: Alternate Universe. Elements of comics, cartoon, and movies.
carmilla - Thanks for pointing out that tense thing I had before. I don't know why it turned out like that. I think my computer hates me.
Gimpy1 - Glad you found it again! I assure you, this story is getting to the point where it's writing itself, so updates should be steady, as long as I keep getting reviews to let me know people are interested. When you say "undeveloped" did you mean "underdeveloped?" Do you think the story is moving too slow?
Lesley - Getting clearer? Uh-oh, they're onto me . . .
DaughterofDeath - Rest assured, I will add another chapter. Any constructive criticism or comments on the story?
Arain Rowan() - There is definitely a reason Rogue feels the need to absorb people . . .
lurking-in-the-shadows - Thanks, I'm glad you're building empathy for her.
Time seemed to slow down. Rogue watched everything as though it was on television. Jean turned to Cyclops, her guard down. Part of Rogue's mind wondered vaguely if Jean was overly careless, relying on her telepathy to warn her of any threat in her own home. Rogue's face was devoid of emotion. Her telepathy wasn't going to help her now, she observed. Rogue didn't feel anything, but the drive to get rid of the nightmarish images hovering just inside her mind.
Just as Rogue's bare fingers were about to make contact with Jean's face, a heavy hand clamped down on her shoulder.
"Hey, darlin'."
Rogue shook her head, her eyes becoming clear once again. It was like fighting back from a deep sleep. She turned and blinked at Wolverine.
"Huh? Oh, hey, Logan."
Wolverine's face was distracted. He didn't seem to notice her confused state, and he certainly didn't seem to have noticed any sinister intent on Rogue's part.
"Hey. You busy?"
Rogue glanced back at Jean out of the corner of her eye, but the redhead was still obliviously talking to her husband. Scott seemed to have forgotten all about getting Rogue a plate of food and was wearing a goofy grin while he flirted with his wife. Rogue sighed mentally. She had a feeling Wolverine had just saved her from making a big mistake. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and smiled at him.
"Nope, not busy at all. What can Ah do for ya?"
"I wanted to talk to you," he said seriously. "Come outside with me?"
Rogue furrowed her eyebrows, perturbed at his anxious state. "Sure."
Wolverine turned and together they walked out the sliding glass door. As they headed towards the trees surrounding the property, he cleared his throat.
"Do you remember anything before you came here? Anything at all?"
"Ah gotta say, Ah'm a little tired of people askin' me that," Rogue said dubiously.
Wolverine rolled his eyes. "Just answer me."
Rogue frowned. "Not really. Ah mean, Ah'm havin' nightmares now, but Ah don't know what they mean." She looked over at him. "You still think the nightmares are flashbacks?" Her voice got quieter. "That those things really happened to me?"
Wolverine sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He stopped and turned to face her.
"Look, I don't have any answers. I've been looking for my past for a long time, and I'm no closer than you are right now." He took a deep breath. "But I was thinking, maybe now it's time to try again."
"What do you mean?"
Wolverine met her eyes. "When you asked me how I dealt with the nightmares, I told you I took them one at a time. But the fact is, I just avoid them whenever possible. When the nightmares get to be too much, I go out, get drunk and look for someone to take it out on."
"You fight," Rogue stated.
Wolverine shrugged and looked away. "Fight, fuck, whatever. The point is, the only time I ever actually tried to find my past was way back when I first joined the X-Men. Xavier sent me to Alkali Lake." He shook his head. "I never tried again after that."
"It was hard for you too?" Rogue asked softly.
Wolverine nodded stiffly. "Let's just say there's a fight cage in a bar in Canada that still has a few dents in it."
Rogue's eyes got a faraway look in them. "A cage fight?"
Wolverine stared at her. "Yeah. Ever seen one?"
Rogue stared off into space. "A cage . . . Ah . . . Ah think Ah used to fight."
Wolverine raised an eyebrow. "You fought in cage fights? Are you sure?"
Rogue nodded slowly. "Yeah." She looked up. "Ah was good."
Wolverine considered this new information. He had to admit, though he'd never actually seen, or even heard, of a woman fighting in a cage, Rogue had the skills to give him a run for his money. There was no logical reason why she couldn't have been a cage fighter.
Wolverine took a deep breath. "Well, that might be a new place to start."
"You've never gone back to the bars you cage fought at?"
Wolverine shook his head. "Even if I had, you still might remember something I don't. If they found you at a cage fight, maybe that's where they found me." He sighed. So what do you say? Wanna give it a shot?"
Rogue looked unsure. Suddenly, she found it hard to look Wolverine in the eye.
"Hey," he said gently. "I'm not saying you have to. I know this isn't going to be easy, and if you're not ready, you don't have to go."
Rogue looked at him. "You gonna go anyway?"
Wolverine thought about it for a minute. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I am."
Rogue nodded. "Right. So when do we leave?"
* * *
"Professor, I just don't think this is a good idea," Cyclops insisted.
Cyclops, Jean, and Professor Xavier were all sitting around in the Professor's office. Ten minutes ago, Wolverine and Rogue had informed Professor Xavier of their intent to go to Canada on a search for their past. Needless to say, Cyclops had some concerns.
"Scott, what exactly do you think is going to happen?" Jean asked rationally. She had her own concerns, but they were more towards Rogue and Wolverine's safety if they did find anything about their past. It would be traumatic for both of them, and Jean worried that they might need help.
"God only knows, Jean. What do we really now about Rogue anyway?" Cyclops dispaired.
"What do we know about Wolverine?" Jean countered. No one was saying it, but they'd gotten Wolverine much the same way they'd gotten Rogue. They'd found him in Canada after he'd been ambushed by a hulking mutant called Sabretooth. He'd come back and joined the team, but he'd always remained secretive. Like Rogue, he didn't feel comfortable discussing his past, or his failure to remember it. And like Rogue, they'd never pressed him.
Cyclops rolled his eyes under his visor. "Jean, Rogue's attacked three people since she's been here. We need to keep an eye on her. Who knows what might happen if she and Wolverine are alone together?"
Jean raised an eyebrow. "They are two consenting adults, dear."
Cyclops blushed furiously. "You know that's not what I meant." Turning away from his amused wife, the desperate team leader appealed to the Professor. "Professor, what do you think?"
Professor Xavier, who had been quiet throughout the discussion, thought very carefully before he responded.
"I think," he began slowly. "Wolverine and Rogue stand to gain a lot from this trip. Though I think it could very well be painful, I truly feel that in the end it will be worth it."
* * *
Rogue looked out the truck's window as they drove through Canada. The snow was a beautiful blanket of white, glittering against the setting sun's last ray's. She sighed.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Rogue smiled and looked over at Wolverine. "Ah love this scenery." She turned back to the window. "Ah love snow."
"Kind of strange," Wolverine commented.
Rogue turned around in her seat again. "Why do you say that?"
Wolverine shrugged. "Nothin'. It's just with that accent of yours, I figured you were from the South. Don't get much snow down there."
Rogue thought that over. "Huh. Well, if Ah am from the South, Ah'm sure Ah always wanted to see scenery like this."
Wolverine chuckled. "Yeah, okay." He looked up ahead and straightened out. "There it is."
"What?" Rogue asked, peering through the windshield.
"Laughlin' City," Wolverine said softly.
There was a faraway look in his eyes as he looked up at the sad gathering of rundown shacks. It didn't look like much of a city to Rogue, but she kept quiet. It was entirely possible that she had spent some time here herself, and it seemed prudent to hold her comments on the surroundings in until she knew for sure whether she had frequented there.
As they walked into the bar, Rogue was hit by a cloud of smoke. The bar was dimly lit, the kind of place that made it obvious that you were there for a fuck or a fight and looks didn't much matter. Rogue sniffed the air. Blood, sweat, and a healthy whiff of alcohol assaulted her senses. She smiled. It did seem familiar.
Wolverine walked up to the bar and ordered them a couple of drinks. As Rogue climbed up on a bar stool beside him, she cradled her beer. The cold of the glass sent a chill through her. As the amber fluid slid down her throat, Rogue felt the chill spread throughout her body. Turning her head slightly, a jar beside her caught her eye.
"You want something besides that beer?"
Startled, Rogue found herself eye to eye with the bartender. He was big and burly and didn't seem altogether pleased. Rogue realized she had been staring at his tip jar. Somehow the whole situation gave her a sense of deja vu.
"I think she's callin' our name."
Rogue looked away from the jar, shaking herself out of her reverie, to find Wolverine smiling at her. She followed his gaze over to a battered pool table in the corner.
"Shall we?"
* * *
It had been too long. Wolverine took a deep breath, drawing the smoke out of his cigar and into his pervasively pink lungs. The damage healed before it was ever done, but that didn't detract from the pure enjoyment he got from the smelly thing. Exhaling just as leisurely, Wolverine executed his shot, two striped balls rocketing into their respective pockets. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction as he straightened up and took a swig of his beer, remembering just in time to remove his cigar first.
"Playin' for keeps, are we?"
Wolverine looked over at the source of the lilting Southern accent. Rogue was standing across the table from him, one hand wrapped around her cuestick, the other planted on her hip. Her face was slightly flushed from the alcohol and her smile was wide as she watched Wolverine contemplating her. A wolfish grin spread across his features.
"Depends, darlin'." He dragged his eyes over her body again, this time taking care to give the swell of her breasts extra attention. "What are we playin' ta keep?"
It was Rogue's turn to grin lasciviously. She put a finger to her lips, pretending to consider his question as her eyes slid over his body. Wolverine's blood went up a few degrees under her intense scrutiny. His eyes got a little hazier as the animal inside him stepped a little closer to the front. He moved towards Rogue.
"I feel like gettin' some action," Wolverine said, his voice gruff with suggestion.
Adrenaline tore through Rogue's body at the tone of his voice. His eyes were intense, and Rogue imagined she could see something feral deep in the amber depths. Something that wanted her.
Before she could speak up, Wolverine shot her a smug look and sauntered past her. Turning to watch him, Rogue grinned in realization. Wolverine was heading for the cage in the back of the bar. Pool game forgotten, Rogue got up from the table and moved back for a closer table. She did so love a good fight.
Wolverine didn't waste any time. After a few words of whispered conversation with the announcer, he nodded and stepped back. The announcer seemed excited. It was obvious to him that Wolverine was raring for a fight, and his demeanor clearly suggested he was used to winning. That always made for an interesting fight. Wasting no time, he hustled the bouncers to remove the most recent loser from the cage. As the man was led, limping, out of the arena, Wolverine stepped inside. A mountain of a man stood in the center of the ring. He stood facing Wolverine, a blank look on his face, his chest heaving from his recent exertions. He watched Wolverine approach without so much as a flutter of emotion.
Suddenly, the door to the cage slammed shut. The clash of metal against metal signaled the beginning of the fight. In a flash, the mountain man lunged for Wolverine. Long solid arms reached for his throat as the man went right for a debilitating move. This was no Marquis of Queensbury fight. This was animalistic dog-eat-dog war. Wolverine felt his adrenaline surge as he brought one fist forward into the other man's stomach, ducking low to avoid the outstretched grip. A whoosh of wind next to his ear signaled the man's sudden loss of oxygen. Swinging around, Wolverine reached over the wheezing man's back and snaked his arm around his neck. Tightening his grip, Wolverine effectively prevented him from drawing any new oxygen back into his lungs. After a few seconds, Wolverine let go, violently fighting down the animal in him that wanted to hold on. The man slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Contrary to what one might expect after an exhibition of skill, such as Wolverine's, the crowd booed loudly. The fight had been short and though Wolverine had beaten his opponent, there had been no blood. The crowd felt cheated and they yelled for their money back.
Never one to pass up a chance to make more money, the announcer bounded up to his microphone.
"Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?!" he hollered. Shouts of "Hell no!" rang out, rattling the walls of the small bar. The announcer gestured at Wolverine. "Who among you will step up and put this man in his place?!"
An awkward silence filled the bar as everyone struggled to look tough without actually attracting the wild eyed gaze of the man in the cage. Bloodthirsty though they may be, few were stupid enough to believe they could succeed where the mountain man had failed.
"Ah wouldn't mind puttin' him in mah place."
All heads swiveled around to face the speaker. Rogue smiled from her seat at a table close to the cage. Her long legs were stretched out on the table, her chair tilted back on two legs as she cradled her beer. There was a strange spark in her eyes as she watched Wolverine turn to face her as well.
Once again, the announcer's mind was spinning with all the possible ways he could keep as much of his money as possible. Technically, the winner at the end of the night walked away with a rather large cash sum. Rogue's suggestive comment gave him just the opening he needed. Clasping his microphone even tighter, the announcer turned to Rogue.
"You would take the Wolverine as your prize?!"
The crowd hooted and whistled. Things had just taken a very interesting turn. Rogue raised one eyebrow, giving the announcer a considering look.
"What do you think, audience?! Should we give her a shot?!"
Thunderous applause signaled the crowd's enthusiastic approval. A path appeared in front of Rogue, clearing a way for her to approach the cage. The men turned greedy eyes to watch her as Rogue stared at Wolverine. He was still standing inside the cage, waiting for her reaction. Rogue could tell that the first so-called fight hadn't even made a dent in Wolverine. His whole body thrummed with energy, his eyes still wild with need. Rogue felt an answering call inside herself. Never breaking eye contact, she slowly slid her legs off the table and stood up. The crowd whooped and cheered as she approached the cage. As the announcer obligingly stepped back, Rogue turned and entered the cage. It clanged shut behind her and suddenly the audience grew quiet.
Like two tigers on the prowl, Wolverine and Rogue slowly began to circle one another. Wolverine felt his senses go on overload as he took in Rogue's form. As they had earlier, his eyes traveled over her body. This time, though, he wasn't looking at her body in a sexual manner. Now his eyes were searching for signs of weakness. Some hesitation that would give him the opening he needed. Slowly, deliberately, Rogue smiled.
Wolverine growled, the animal in him acknowledging her challenge. Leaping towards her, he moved for a full body tackle. Rogue ducked and used his own weight to carry him over her shoulder. He hit the floor hard, but didn't allow her to take advantage. Rolling, he swept his legs out, knocking hers out from under her. Rogue twisted in midair, trying to keep from landing on her back. Wolverine dove under her, getting his arms underneath her and holding on. With her arms pinned to her sides, Rogue couldn't break the hold. Striking down with her legs, Rogue knocked him off balance. Together, they tumbled sideways. Wolverine turned them as they fell, so that he landed with his body on top of Rogue's. Breathing heavily, he delighted in the feel of her trapped underneath him. Holding still, Rogue found herself staring up into his eyes. The light of battle made them seem glazed and animalistic. Pinned underneath his metal encased skeleton, Rogue was helpless to move. Her mind sought some way to regain the upper hand.
Rogue thrust her body upward, grinding herself against Wolverine. His eyes widened as his own body responded, pushing down for more friction. Rogue bit back a gasp at the sensations that shot through her. Deep inside her, she felt a beast of her own raging to be released. Her eyes glazed over and she snarled. Taking advantage of Wolverine's aroused state, she twisted her body sharply, smoothly rolling them onto their sides. She was about to break his hold, but it was too late. Wolverine's beast was in total control and there was no way she was getting out of this that easy. Tightening his grip on her until it was almost painful, Wolverine rolled slightly bringing her back underneath him. Before Rogue could twist out of the way, his mouth clamped down on hers.