To any of my readers I have left,
I'm writing this on paper from my living room where I've been confined for the last week or so. This is one of the reasons I haven't posted my last part. I love you all dearly and wanted to give you the remaining piece long ago. I want to explain to you why.
Two weeks ago I realized I needed to rework chapter eleven. It's was too fluffy, too mushy that if felt like it belonged to a different story. I finished it last Friday. It's better in my view, darker but with an ending I hope pleases you all. I sent it to my beta who returned it to me that weekend. I would have posted it then but school work and house work had to be done first. That's only the first reason.
The second ties in with my imprisonment on my living room couch. Last Monday I twisted my knee, popping my knee cap out (again!). All week I've wanted to manage myself downstairs to post but I can't. So I'm writing this on paper and will have my friend do it for me.
Now bear with my while I attempt to respond to your reviews from memory.
Jenny: I know you pointed out love faults, can't remember them all but I'll address as many as I can. Magneto: I think you thought his portrayal wasn't believable. You're probably right. He was soft but I took inspiration from the comics I've been reading in which Rogue and Magneto share an affection, not strong but it's there. I think with Eric in her head she'd understand him, forgive him, and Eric would understand that. What he did, he did for the greater good (At least in his mind). It was never personal, she'd know that.
I can't remember anything else you touched on except for the bright light after they touched her. It's explained in vague detail in the part. If you still need explanation just ask, I'll try and answer somehow.
Thank you for keeping me on my toes.
Angela LeeAnn: I cannot for the life of me remember what you said except that I know I loved it and have loved every review you've ever left me. I'm sorry for the wait and for not catching up on your stories. I've been dying to know how Marrien (is that her name) and...lol I can't remember their alternate names but I do remember the bath scene WOO! heh. I may have to get someone to print it for me...Much love and much respect.
Mishy: You're review are always appreciated, I had fun this weekend even if I was in severe pain.
If I've forgotten anyone I'm truly sorry. If this needs explanation, I'm sorry and will try to correct it. If I have any readers left, enjoy and expect more stories from me. Trust me when I say not all of them will be this heavily worded.
Gimpy
Chapter 11
For the first time Scott found himself truthfully afraid of his wife. The red head always had a certain demur temper but never like this. This was destructive. He could barely believe this fuming beauty was the normally calm and collected woman he'd married. The anger rippling from the slight fury was almost a corporeal force it was so strong. What made Scott hesitate to confront her most though was the mass of unshed but dangling tears pooling in her vibrant eyes.
Trying to gather himself for the conflict ahead he took a generous amount of time to simply take her in. Dust clung to her like magnets, her hair and face smudged in the dark substance. The clothes hanging from her slumped form were worse off, the sight causing the commanding figure to gag. Blood had seeped into the once white lab coat, each spot a chapter in the story of horrors that had transpired in the last few hours. Everything added up to the completely destroyed and absolutely frustrated creature before him, a creature he wasn't at all confident he could calm. But as husband, and most of all a friend, he had to try.
Taking in a somewhat strengthening breath, he breached the small bubble Jean had cornered herself in. He didn't close the space between them, simply came to a stop beside her desk and waited. When she barely acknowledged his presence he knew he couldn't just leave her like this. He approached cautiously, clearing his throat.
Jean's withering stance stiffened, forcing him to stop mid-stride. He tried to find words but his tongue seemed to swell within his mouth.
The woman's nose flared, her grinding teeth tightening. Silence draped across the couple, fueled by Jean's stifling anger.
"Are you happy now?" Jean snapped, a glower deeply rooted in her words.
Confused lines creased into the sides of Scott's eyes as he stuttered, "Excuse me?"
"You were right… all along," she seethed in response, shooting a deadly glare his way. "Does that make you happy? … To know you were right?"
At a loss for words, Scott waited for her to explain herself. Which she did, each word spitting from her mouth in daggers.
"You tried to tell me… and I wouldn't listen. 'We can't help her, Jean,' 'She doesn't want our help,' 'She's lost to us.' You said it…." she spat at him, her tone accusing him of unspoken evils. "And you were right. It was pointless, all of the begging and pleading for to her to just open up to me. To let me in. All of it… useless!
"And who, who do we think we're kidding Scott! With all this superhero 'we can change the world' bullshit. We haven't changed anything! But we continue to delude ourselves into believing we can make a difference. Well here's the kicker, it still happened, it's still happening! Humans will never accept us no matter how hard we try. They'll just treat us like they did her, like animals.
"So tell me 'oh fearless leader', what the hell IS the poi-nt?" A muted sob devoured the end of her sentence, leaving her quivering in broken shambles. Sorrow grasped the woman, tearing every budding breath from her lips. "I-I cared… an…and all I got in return is this hole, right here," she croaked, pounding the flesh above her heart with as much force as she could muster.
Scott felt his heart break along with his crumbling wife, empathy wearing him down within inches of his breaking point. Swallowing the distance between them, he snatched her into his arms and she went willingly, collapsing into him. He tried to prevent the hyperventilating woman from succumbing even further but failed.
Her shaky ramblings continued in raspier whimpers, "I can't do this anymore… I tried! I really did…"
"I know, I know," Scott hushed her, unsteady hands combing through her hair.
She ignored his comforting words, dipping into self-hatred. "I could have tried harder, maybe…maybe if I had…"
Realizing which road she was headed down, Scott grabbed her shoulders hard and stared into her eyes. "Don't. Don't do this to yourself 'cause I'm not gonna play the pity game with you. You did everything in your power, we all did and now it's up to fate." Cupping her cheek and forcing her straying eyes back to his, he whispered, "She's still alive because of you."
"You call that living?" Jean snapped, shoving his arm away and pointing towards the mirror window. "She's catatonic Scott. A prisoner in her own body, the closest to hell a man can get while he's still breathing. She's paying the ultimate price and for what? Touchable skin? What good is that to her? By the time she wakes up - if at all - it will have already gone away."
"You don't know that."
"What do you think that blinding light was? Or the shock wave that came after it?" Bitter sarcasm attached to her every word, grating at Scott's resolve to empathize. "She changed her mutation through sheer willpower and in doing so, went against nature's divinity. A mutation is an evolution and evolution takes thousands of years to come about. What she did should have taken decades of concentration and hard work. Instead she does it in a split second. I'm surprised she didn't die completely instead of just on the inside."
"I had no idea you could be so heartless." Jean's attitude was getting to him, making him question how well he really knew her.
Her anger faltered at her husband's words and was quickly replaced by bitterness. "You say heartless, I say realistic. There's no happy ending here, we don't get to live in wonderland. Not anymore. Face it, Scott, we couldn't even protect one girl. How the hell are we supposed to face the rest of them? We tell them this is a sanctuary but we couldn't even prevent this. With all the technology, all the man power, the supernatural power… we were still rendered useless."
"I can't believe you're giving up, you of all people," he muttered, disappointment ringing clearly in his eyes. "This may not be a fairytale, Jean, but we can't afford to second guess what we do. This place isn't perfect, there's no question about that but it's the only place. Where do you think those kids would be without us? I don't even want to think about where Jubilee would be if we hadn't found her hiding in that mall. Or Rogue for that matter. A teen living on the streets surrounded by drunks and junkies. At least here she had a chance, has a chance," he quickly amended, still baring hope for the catatonic girl in the other room.
Brushing at a lone tear, she moved away from Scott, pulling her arms securely around her midsection. "It just doesn't seem right. The innocent just keep getting hurt and men like Magneto get to walk out of prison, free of charge. It's like we handed him the key, gave him a pretty little gift basket for his trouble then sent him on his way. How is that fair?"
Stealing himself away, Scott took his coveted position behind his wife and enveloped her in his arms once more. "It's not," he whispered into her ear, giving her a warm squeeze. "We'll send him back but the moment we stop fighting, men like him win. All we can do is try and that has to be enough. It's enough for me."
"It was for me too… at one point." Sighing despondently, Jean leaned into him, her gaze penetrating the mirrored window at the broken couple. "I'm just not so sure anymore…"
Silence befell the couple, bringing with it a cloud of uncertainty. Scott held the woman he loved and wondered, how… The fall of one single woman had seemingly taken a domino effect, bringing every one else with her. Questions were circulating, their purpose the main theme. He realized that Jean had good reason to doubt. The children were glad to have Rogue back but ultimately each and every one of them felt a deeply seeded fear. Even the staff members, the elusive x-men, the heroes, were feeling the effects.
Peering through the glass partition before him he silently prayed for an outcome that didn't destroy what had been built here. His answer seemed unattainable as he connected gazes with the stark lifeless ones of the fallen. It was heart wrenching to stare too deeply. The once animated girl was now perched vicariously on a decrepit bridge, stuck between two words and the dark watery unknown. Paralysis held her there, preventing her from choosing a side and the longer she waited the closer to the edge, to the water, she got. Scott could feel the image wash over him, seeing it in his mind so clearly it held a heart beat that threatened to smother him.
He felt useless, like every moment leading up to this one had been pointless. A girl he considered his ward was slipping away and he was powerless. They all were.
He pulled his wife deeper into his arms. "What can we do for her?" he asked so softly the words barely formed before the air swallowed them whole.
Jean took a moment to answer, a hitch forming in her throat. "Not much… I stitched her up, in a few weeks she'll be a little sore but better…" Another moment taken with a quivering sigh. "Her mind is a whole other set of problems… "
"You can't do anything?" he asked, referring to the growing mental abilities she held.
Shaking her head softly she took on a far away look, discomfort following. "I went in, just to take a look…" she stopped, trying to forget the memories as fast as they came. "It was like I was two years old lost in an amusement park trying to find my parents. Everything was so loud and frightening. The lights, the scenery… but most of all the voices. There were so many of them and they were so angry, every time I tried to move they got louder, ringing in my ears like massive bells. I couldn't go anywhere, I was stuck, I had no control of anything. I was useless. I don't ever want to feel that way again.
"And what's worse is, she's feeling it right now. It's got a hold on her and there is nothing she can do about it. She can't help herself and neither can I…" Forcing herself to stare into the other room she shed another tear. "I can't do a damn thing and I don't like just sitting here waiting… I need to be able to do something, anything to help her."
As Scott struggled to find the right words where there were none a soft, elegant voice spoke from the door. "Perhaps, this time, it is not our place to help."
Startled, the couple turned to their elder and endearing superior, questions hazing their eyes. Pulling from Scott's arms, Jean turned to the Professor and asked, "How long have you been there."
He smiled softly and took a moment before speaking, "Not long, though you're projecting your thoughts quite loud enough."
Regret swallowed the woman as she bowed her head. "I'm sorry professor, I'm just…"
"There's no need for apologies Jean. You're uncertainties are more then valid, and shared by most." Wheeling further into the room, he took his first glance into the opposing room, decidedly not liking what he saw there. "How long has he been there?" he asked, referring to the looming figure beside the girl's bed.
Collecting herself, Jean became the stagnant doctor, forgetting the former crumbling woman. "Hasn't moved once since we came back."
Turning away from the sight he looked up at Jean, "He understands the situation?"
"He understands but won't accept it."
A lithe smile formed on his face, one that spoke of melancholy. "You can't ask a man to accept, within a matter of hours, the loss of the only thing good in his life. I don't doubt he will remain at her side until one end or another."
Sighing Scott stepped uneasily into the conversation. "What did you mean when you said it's not our place?"
The smile that hadn't left his solemn face faltered for a moment before he spoke. "Simply that we've run our course here." Peering deeply into Jeans eyes he tried to convey with words what was shining there. "As Scott so eloquently put it, we did everything within our power to correct this. We could not have prevented something we never would have expected. And we acted accordingly. She's home and she's safe. We've done all that we can and now we place her in his hands."
"His?" Confused, Scott glanced back and forth between the mirrored glass and the professor. "You mean Logan? You want us to leave her in his hands?"
"Scott," Jean murmured, her voice a tone with warning.
"No, I won't do it. I wouldn't trust him with my life let alone hers."
"Scott! The professor wouldn't do this unless he believed Logan could help."
"What can he do that you can't? Look I know you think you're unqualified to do this but we'll find a way." He was grasping for anything, unwilling to give in to the idea that the man who'd broken her heart was now supposed to fix it. The two men had come to a slight understand before, Logan had messed up, bad, and had to make it up to her or pay the price. But even with that understanding in place Scott just couldn't bring himself to trust him.
"Don't you think that the way to get to her could be him? Think about it Scott - the man is the biggest part of her life, the one thing that influenced her more then her mutation." Jean reasoned.
"He's got a very large place in her heart, she listens to him, she loves him." Xavier added in his own smooth voice. "There's a tie between them that runs deeper then I first thought. One can't live without the other, Rogue's downfall is evidence to that. And the only course I can see before us is to allow him time to reach her. Bring her back to us."
Still not convinced Scott crossed his arms and stood his ground. "How do you suppose he's going to do that?"
Smiling once more before turning back to the shattered couple, Xavier spoke "Man's most powerful weapon is his choice of words, they can convey worlds of emotion, change even the most stubborn of minds and influence the darkest of hearts."
"So I worked for a year and a half on the fightin' circuit just to get the money. When I had it, I bought it," A wistful smile formed on his forlorn face as he spoke. "It's sitting up north in the Rockies, in the middle o' nowhere, locked away. It's nothin' great, some o' the wood's rotted, it's barely even two rooms but the view… it'd baffle even a great artist like yourself. I think you'd love it darlin', it's warm, comfortin' on a cold winter's night." His words fell from his lips in whispers as his hands idly worked the skin entombing her hands.
"I'd love to take you there," the longing smile deepened. "You an' me sittin' by the fire, curled up in a blanket while I read to you. I've always wanted to read 'Wuthering Heights'. Sounds ridiculous, don't it? Chick book and all… but the hype around it makes me wonder how good it really is. And for you, I'd suffer anythin'."
Logan caught himself before the tears in his eyes could fall, knowing without a doubt he had to be strong for her. Everything he did was always for her. The absence from her life had been to protect her, or so he'd thought but he knew different now. Fear could make even the bravest of men run scared, tails between their legs. Never again, at least not for him. She was forever, lost or not.
Releasing a shifty breath, he drank in the milky white flesh he held in his hands for what had to be the hundredth time. "We're both stuck between a rock and a hard place, aren't we?" He directed his question at her hands, still unwilling to stare into death's darkening hold. The vibrant eyes he loved so dearly held nothing but shades of abyss so utterly consuming he couldn't bear it. "Whatever's going on in that head of yours it can't be good, not if it ruffled the Doc so bad. This burden of yours… your skin… it's safe now… but no less a burden. My touch used to make things better and I can't help but think if you had a new version of me in there… Maybe things would be better."
He hesitated before speaking again, knowing through scent that people were still lingering behind the mirrored glass. "But I can't be in there, can I?" he whispered, straying one hand just enough to dip into the soiled curls atop her ashen colored skin. Dirt still clung to her form, Jean unable to get close enough to bathe the girl without a growl from him.
"I'm here, right here, and this is where I'm gonna stay till you come back to me. 'Cause the truth is babe, there is no me without you. As long as I can remember, I've had no purpose. Sure I may have won cage fights, had my share o' conquests but… in the scheme o' things, what do they mean? My one an' only success in life, the thing that makes me a man, was takin' you in, carin' for you and savin' you. Outside of that I'm nothin'."
Most of his time in the room had been spent talking, though none of what he said mattered. Until now he'd been able to remain strong, to just talk. The ability to speak of superficial nothings was vanishing, leaving Logan to wallow. He sat there, eyes brimming, chest weighted down, stomach churning, unable to nurse his breaking heart. His hands never halting their ministrations long enough for her to forget he was here. Was this his reward? Save a life then lose everything. Was that how the world really worked? He couldn't imagine being a part of something so damning yet here he was living it. His world had been placed on a teeter-totter, balancing between everything and nothing. The wisdom to fix this eluded him but the responsibility was his whether it took days or years.
When he finally spoke again he couldn't bare to broach another mundane subject so he didn't, instead he spoke straight from the heart. "I can't lose you… but I can't seem to keep you either. Hell of a way the world works, huh? Man gets girl, man leaves girl, man comes back, man loses girl. Man gets girl back… what now? Do I lose again? Cause darlin' I don't think I can do that and still live to tell the tale." Risking everything, Logan shifted in his chair, ignoring the tingling in his stiffened limbs. Breaking contact with her hands all together, he reached out and clasped her face in a gentle hold. Rearing her head towards him he forced down the groan he desperately wanted to let loose. She looked like a ghost, a pale yet absolutely stunning ghost. Brushing her cheeks with his jerky thumbs, he forced himself to stare into her lifeless eyes. "I know you can hear, baby. So listen."
The tears finally shattered the barrier he'd placed to keep them back. "Look what you've done to me," he cooed, a light sarcasm in his voice. "The Wolverine, reduced to a blubbering mess. Only you," he breathed, leaning down to capture her lips in a chaste kiss.
"I need you more then I've ever needed anything." Cerulean unblinking eyes simply stared back at him, blank and so utterly cold. "I… I love you…" he waited, caressing the contours of her eyes, but received nothing from her. "Damn-it Marie… I love you." The admission shattered him, creating a quivering mass in place of the steal leaded man he was. Taking her lips in a salted, tear stained kiss he burrowed his face into her chest.
Shame filled him, his fists gripping at her arms as he tried to burrow further into her. Sobs forced their way through him, sounding in gargled cries. He couldn't be strong anymore, he'd tried so hard for so long but he just couldn't do it. So he clung to her, mumbling over and over how much he loved, an act he'd never truly felt. He understood now why men wrote songs of broken hearts, understood why tragic love stories thrived the passing of time. They were classic and universal - as everyday as life and death - and this was his turn. The heart that had been black as night before this glorious woman was reverting, fading from vibrant red to crumbling charcoal. Life and death. The Wolverine's main theme, he just couldn't grasp why it had to drag her into it, why 'he' had to drag her into it.
Any semblance of thought became impossible, not even the scent of tears from those hidden behind glass could reach him. Desperate wishes flooded his tongue, demands for more time with her, just a moment with her.
He imagined his words spilling from his lips like milk dripping from a toppled cup.
Imagined her dry hazy eyes blinking for the first time in hours.
Imagined her hands digging into his hair, combing comfort into the unruly locks.
Imagined her soft elegant voice whispering endearments never spoken to another.
Imagined her claiming he would be okay; that all wrongs had been righted.
Imagined her whispering 'we had our moment of bliss.'
Imagined her take one sharp breath, the sound as exquisite as her life had been.
And when he could not imagine what came next he knew…
One blink, one caress, one sentence, one breath… That equation would constantly prevent Logan from ever imagining again.
The tears poured more heavily, gasping breaths barely attaching to his lips before they were forced back out. Pushing away just enough, he forced his eyes back to hers and gasped, "Oh god…" Clasping a hand over his mouth he sobbed into the curling fingers, "Baby?" His other hand found its way back into her hair. Soft lids had fallen over her jade eyes, a sight more damaging then before. Shaking her, he mumbled, "Open your eyes, please."
Eternity succumbed in the moments after his plea, digging into him, drawing crimson tears. Earth itself seemed to stop on its axis, the air distilling in his lungs. Then in a sudden rush, life itself jolted back and glazed eyes met uncertainty.
Logan broke even further, reaching out, hands smothering dampening cheeks. A smile broke out, threatening to crack his face in half. A minute echo of his smile formed on what once was a solid rock. They stared, salt streaming down their faces in unison. A timid hand found his, wrapping slender fingers around his, causing a sob to wretch from his throat.
"Hi…" A single word from a timid voice.
Logan couldn't help the laughter, instead letting it take over. "Hi…" he whispered back, joy racing through his blood. The relief in his eyes faded when her smile slipped. He watched as she rifled through the memories, cringing when she did.
The events of the past few days cascaded around her but it was what came after that made her arms encircle the man who'd become her lifeline and cling. The darkness, the solitude, the anger, the despair and sorrow all came back. It filled her, surrounded her, smothered her like grating sand. The thought of it threatened to take her back and when Logan whispered that he thought he'd lost her, she couldn't help the faint reply she gave. "Ya did. For a while." Her hold tightened like a vice, which he accepted readily. "Don't let meh go back, Ah don't wanna go back…" it was her turn to plead. "Please…"
It was then that Logan realized Marie had lost her innocence. A feat he never would have imagined. She was more vulnerable now then ever before, able to fall back into the hole she'd just dug out of and all he could do was promise. Promise to care for her, to love her, protect her. He could promise her the world but he'd never be able to promise absolution from her own mind.
He looked down at her cradled in his arms and whispered, "I won't baby. I won't ever let you go."
Marie buried her head in his shoulder and Logan gripped her tightly. She was back, however fleeting, and he swore he'd never let her out of his arms again.
He just hoped he could hang on tight enough.
The End.