"Marie...." Scott sounded tried and drained. Through her slitted eyes, she could see the stubble growing profusely from his chin, as a result of weeks of negligence.
"Go away, Scott," she muttered, turning over in bed and pulling the comforter tighter around her. "I'm not getting up today."
A heavy sigh sounded near her ear as the blanket was torn away again. Marie shivered as a blast of cool air created a line of goosebumps on her arms and legs. "I know this is going to be hard," his voice was scratchy and on the verge of exploding with emotion. Marie shut her eyes tighter, tears welling up at the corners. "But, we have to go through with it," he finished.
"No, we don't." Marie finally opened her eyes, the sight of Scott dressed in a full black tuxedo making her chin start to tremble uncontrollably. "Scott..." The hot, raining tears finally spilled from her eyes, leaving burning trails on her cheeks. "I can't-" her voice broke, and she turned her head, burying it into the pillow. "I can't go," she reiterated, her voice small.
Smoothing his trembling hands over his jacket, Scott sat on the corner of the bed, the expression of pain and remorse evident despite his dark ruby sunglasses. "You promised you'd come with me, so we could do this together. Mutual support. Remember? We've always been there for each other.... and this is the hardest time for both of us. I need you there, Marie. He needs you there."
"No!" she cried into the pillow, shying away from his hand reaching out to rest on her arm. "He doesn't need me there, Scott. That's exactly it. He doesn't need me at all." Her shuddery breath enveloped her throat, almost choking her. "He only needs her."
There was a long silence as Scott waited patiently as Marie wept into her pillow, soaking the material down to the bottom. Scott had his head turned toward the wall, willing himself not to lose control again. This day was the end of everything he- they- had hoped for. For months, there had been this horrible dread burdening the both of them, haunting their thoughts, shadowing their mind. And, now it was really going to happen. They were going to have lost everything they'd ever truly loved by the end of the day.
The short, jagged sobs had slowed to almost nothing, and Scott tried again. "Marie, please." His hand reached out to her again, and landed softly on her dark brown hair, stroking it tenderly. "It will be over soon."
"That's what I'm afraid of," she replied hoarsely, but nevertheless lifted her head from the pillow and sat up in the bed. Her dark eyes were clouded over and swollen from crying as well as her nose was a hazy shade of red. White streaks framed the side of her chin, the very memory of them sending a chilly reminder through the room. "Fine," she assented, staring down at her hands now. "I'll go."
With a consoling, firm hug, Scott whispered his thanks and left the room, giving her time to prepare.
When given the signal, the orchestra struck up the intro, the melody of the wedding march striking fond memories in some spectators, and bitter ones in others. Scott and Marie sat side by side, their eyes glued to the front of the church, blindly concentrating on the wall. But, as soon as he heard the great doors of the church swing open, Scott's face swerved sharply to take in the bride, covered from head to toe in white silk and lace, a veil of the same frilly material trailing down her back, and hiding her usually vibrant red hair.
Jean had a bouquet of flowers tucked firmly in her hands, and a hint of a smile played about her lips as she performed the tediously rehearsed march down the aisle. Thrills ran through her fingers and down her spine, causing her to shudder suddenly. Scott was gazing at her. His ruby red glasses were burning holes into her eyes, an expression of pleading and love filling them. A sharp twist of guilt pulled in her stomach, but she commanded herself to look away and fix her gray eyes on the man standing at the end of the church- her groom.
Marie froze in her chair, her fingers gripping the edges of it as soon as the music started. Her body became cold and dizzy with nerves, refusing to quiet under any command. She was going to lose the man she loved, and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing.
A few rows in front of her, Logan stood awkwardly at the alter, his fingers playing idly with the buttons on his tux, his eyes fixed firmly at the church entrance. He wasn't exactly smiling; but he wasn't frowning either. His face was as smooth and expressionless as stone. His heart, however, was racing, thumping loudly in his chest until it felt it would explode. Today, a decision would be made, binding his life to anothers, making him hers, and her his.
Squeezing her eyes shut again, Marie reached out for Scott's hand and squeezed it tightly. "I'm leaving," she whispered, opening her eyes again as Scott turned to look at her.
"No, pl-". But, he stopped when he saw the pain written all over her face. It was killing her to go through this, to see all of this take place. An immense feeling of guilt weighed on him; he shouldn't have asked her to come. He appreciated and admired the fact that she had even brought herself this far. "All right," he said, squeezing back and letting go. "I'll come see you when it's over."
Without another word, Marie rose from her seat and hurried out of the row of people, unconsciously whispering apologies. She tried to be as inconspicuous as possible by sneaking out one of the side doors, but a pair of deep hazel eyes noticed and followed her movements with regret.
Leaning heavily against the outside wall of the church, Marie let her tears flow freely, chest rising and falling spasmodically. "Oh, Logan," she whispered, wringing her hands. "Why Jean? Why? Why? Why not me?"
The pale green dress crinkled as she slid down to the ground, burying her face into the cove of her arms. The music had stopped, which meant that the repeating of the vows had begun. Flashbacks ran through her mind like old videos, buried for long periods of time. Their first meeting....
-What kind of a name is Rogue?
-What kind of name is Wolverine?
-................The name's Logan.
-Marie.
Their first vows to each other....
-Whaddya say we give these geeks one more try? Come on, I'll take care of you.
-You promise?
-Yea, I promise.
And, so recently Logan had come to her only a few days ago, asking her an important question.
-Hey, kid.
-Hey, Logan.
-Hey, umm....
-What is it?
-Do you believe in love and all that soul mate stuff?
-...I don't know. I-I guess I do, but I can't say definitely because I've never had someone like that. I mean- really had someone.
-Oh.
-Do you?
-What?
-Do you believe in that? With Jean?
-I uh... The first time I saw her I felt something, and... yea, I guess I do.
-Oh.
-But, Rogue-
-Hmm?
-No matter what, I'll always be here for you. Remember: we found each other first. You mean more to me than.... well, you mean a lot to me.
-I know, Logan. You mean a lot to me too. I love you.
-Me too, kid.
Marie lifted her head, the tears dry, but the ache in her stomach still biting into her. She loved Logan, and he was marrying someone else. He would be lost to her now. There was no chance between them. She'd spent years waiting- hoping, subtly showing him how she felt, but it must have not been enough... or he must have not cared to pay enough attention. His heart belonged wholly to Jean, and she was nothing more than a friend. Nothing more. Nothing.
The fanfare of the wedding music swelled again, making the statement that the deed was done, and the newly forged couple would now be together for the rest of their lives. Jean and Logan. Logan and Jean. Married. Starting a family. Together.
Marie shuddered, goosebumps forming down her arms, leaving a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. Logan was the only one for her; she knew it. But, he'd taken someone else and left her standing outside in the cold alone. Who did she have now? Who could she ever love besides him? She knew in her heart that she could never love anyone as completely or passionately as she still did Logan.
Now, he was marked off from her. The thin gold band around his finger set him apart and forged a wall between them. Rogue could still go on being with him and keeping the distance she needed to stay sane, but Marie inside would be dying bit by bit. How could she bear living on after this? Without Logan...
She jumped as a large, firm hand grasped her shoulder.
"Marie, everyone's going to the reception."
So, they'd gone through with it. Despite herself, she'd hoped that it was just one horrible façade, and Logan would emerge from the church unmarried and save himself from a grave mistake. For a moment, she had hoped it had been Logan's hand reaching out to her, telling her how sorry he was for being so blind and not realizing that the person he should be marrying wasn't Jean, but her. Reaching up toward Scott's hand, Marie clasped it in her own and used it to pull herself up from the ground.
"Okay." Her voice was cold and hard, and her body numb. There was no time for crying or thinking. Her mind was coping with the shock by pretending it was an alternate universe. "Let's go."
Swallowing his comment of reproach, Scott only turned his head and gazed around the restaurant with a lost look in his eyes. Already, the bride and groom were dancing, and couples all around were joining in, laughing and congratulating the newlyweds. Marie sat across from him, downing her fifth margarita, and carelessly clinking glasses with other strangers at surrounding tables.
"Do you want to dance?" Scott asked, when she'd finally resumed her seat and taken to blinking contemplatively around the room.
Marie shrugged, already rising from the table. "Sure, but I make no guarantees that I won't step on your feet."
Scott merely laughed and led her onto the dance floor, as far away from the newly hitched couple as was possible. Keeping her eyes glued to her feet as they glided across the dance floor, Marie didn't seem up to much conversation.
"So..." clearing his throat, and dipping her quickly just to get her to glance at him, Scott winked and an expression of concern was written on his face. "How are you holding up?" He was answered with another shrug when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.
"Hey," Logan grinned at them, holding out his hand. "May I cut in?"
Scott swallowed, realizing that if he switched partners he would end up dancing with Jean, who stood with her fingers looped through Logan's other hand. "Hey, man, it's your reception. You can do whatever you want." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.
Without another word, Logan clasped Marie's hands as Jean let go of him, her arms circling around Scott's neck while her stomach churned with nerves.
Marie, meanwhile, merely stared at Logan as they danced, as if not really taking him in. "I saw you leave during the ceremony," Logan began, his deep hazel eyes boring into her dark brown glassy ones. "Are you okay?" His eyebrows etched together in genuine concern, and the grip his hand had on hers loosened as if he was afraid of breaking her.
"I'm-", Marie cleared her throat, and attempted a small smile. "I was just feeling a little dizzy. I think it was because there were so many people around. I never could get used to crowds."
He seemed to accept her answer, but nevertheless he continued worrying. "So, you're all right now?"
Swaying around the room, gazing into Logan's deep eyes, holding his hands, and seeing the alien gold wedding band encircling the ring finger of his left hand began to make her feel truly dizzy- not to mention the fact that she had five drinks worth of margaritas in her system.
"Whoa," she stopped dancing, and lifted her palm to her forehead. "You know what?" she breathed quietly, letting go of her partner's hand and fanning her face with it. "I was wrong. I- I think I need to sit down somewhere." She blindly stepped away from him, making her way through the crowd and feeling sick to her stomach. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a sign hanging up for the restrooms.
"Are you okay, now?" Ororo asked quietly, pressing a dampened paper towel to the girl's forehead.
Rogue lay on the floor of the bathroom, the putrid scent of vomit lingering in one of the stalls. Wiping her mouth suddenly, she then placed both her hands on the ground and tried to stand up. "I'm fine, 'Ro. Thank you." The coolness of the bathroom walls kept her feeling somewhat real, so she pressed her back up against it, thankful the dress was made of thin material. "I just had too much to drink."
"Are you sure that's all it is, sweetie?" The weather goddess knew how attached Marie and Logan were, and supposed it would be a shock to the young girl's system at the thought of him getting married.
"Yes, I'm fine," she repeated, turning her head away from the woman, pressing her burning cheek against the cool bathroom tile.
"I'll stay here until you're feeling well enough," she said warily, standing beside her.
Rogue shook her head and moved away from the wall, making her way toward the door. "No, I'm all right, Ororo. Don't worry about it." Then she turned her back and reentered the noisy restaurant, her dark brown eyes searching for a familiar friend with brown hair and ruby red glasses. Scott was the only one who could understand her and relate to what she feeling. Scott had become her closest confidant ever since he and Jean had split up. But, it was hard discerning him through the mass crowd full of men in black tuxes and white shirts.
"Marie," she felt pressure on her elbow, and her breath caught in her throat when Logan turned her around to face him. "Are you all right?" His eyes were searching her face now, his senses smelling the vomit and the fever.
"I think I must have caught something." She avoided his eyes, and instead searched for an exit. "I'm going to drive back to the mansion, okay?"
His grip on her arm tightened protectively. "Are you sure you can make it all right? Because I can drive you if you need me to."
Despite herself, Rogue laughed, feeling her eyes well up with tears again. "No, you can't," she said, her nose suddenly becoming congested. "It's your reception, Logan. You can't leave." He stared at her in surprise.
"If you're sick, Marie, I can take you home. It doesn't matter what's going on. I'll always take care of you, remember?"
Her heart broke in two at his words. He used their promise too easily, as if it was an unquestioned understanding between a brother and his younger sister. But, it was more than that to her. "I'm not going to hold you to that anymore. Your first priority is your wife now. You have to take care of her first."
Logan opened his mouth to protest, but she slid her arm out of his grip and half-ran away from him, heading toward the exit.
She felt lost, empty, and hollow. A piece of her was missing, exposing her to the cold, frigid wind, causing her to shiver and rub her hands over her arms. Of all days of the past year and a half of owning it, her jeep had decided to die on the middle of the road, halfway between the mansion and the restaurant. Since dark gray clouds were gathering ominously in the sky, it would make more sense to go back to the restaurant and tell someone about her predicament. But, it was just so much more easier to keep walking forward, and not have to face anyone at all.
The sun was behind her, and would be barely visible even if she turned around. The sky was hazed over with dark grays and amethyst swirls intertwining and overlapping above. Rogue shivered again, cursing under her breath. Overall, she felt drained and old, as if her purpose had suddenly disappeared, and she was lost trying to find it. As she walked, life became an endless, meaningless monotony. Nothing could be felt by her anymore. The road before her was a blur while the road behind her was a mere memory, and her legs plodding forward on the uphill pavement was nothing more to her than a daydream. Nothing more than a daydream.
Caught up in a half-stupor, she didn't even realize that a dark blue car toyota had slowed on the road to match her pace. When the driver called out to her, she almost screamed.
"Hey, hey, Ah'm sorry- didn't mean to startle ye." The man, seemingly in his early thirties, dark brown hair and bright green eyes peered at her curiously, taking in her exhausted features. "Ah was just going to ask for directions," he began, just as she'd began walking away at a fast pace and pressing the pedal to keep up with her, "but Ah was wondering if you needed a ride too? Ah'm lost- and late, for that matter, but Ah don't think being late by another twenty minutes or so will make much of a difference."
Rogue turned to look at him, about to decline politely when the wind blew an icy blast against her skin again, as if deeming her insane if she did refuse. Glancing ahead of her, her mind measured from experience that it would probably take another good two hours before she even reached the mansion, and the gray clouds hovering right over her head didn't seem to want to give her that much time.
With a heavy sigh, she nodded and came closer to the driver's window to get a better look at him. "You're lost, you say?" He nodded, his green eyes transfixed on her white streaks, then lowering down to her dress. Rogue shifted under his gaze, not exactly uncomfortable, but just aware that he was trying to piece together a story about her in his mind. He had a dreamer's eyes; fanciful and unrealistic, but harmless.
"Yea, Ah musta taken a wrong turn somewhere around here, seeing as this is mah first time in these parts." For the first time, she noticed he had a slight southern accent- not too thick, but it was there nonetheless. That fact alone made her feel more apt to accept the car ride. "I'ma lookin for the Turnkey Village."
Rogue chuckled, and jerked her thumb back where he had come from. "That's about two miles back there. There's quite a bit of country here, so I could understand how you'd get lost. Just take a left when you hit the dairy farm, and keep going straight. Turnkey Village is on that road, but a lot further down."
The man whistled, shaking his head in disbelief. "That simple, huh? Boy, Ah got myself all screwed up here just by following this fool map. But Ah was never able to understand them that well." Then he leaned out the window again, and pointed to the passenger door. "So, you still want that ride?"
Rogue glanced at the door, and as if to push her, a few cold drops of rain splattered on her head and nose. "Fine," she said, more to the sky than to the stranger. "Thanks a lot, mister."
As soon as she slid into the passenger seat and shut the door, thunder rumbled dangerously from above, the vibrations sending chills all around. Rogue smiled gratefully at the man and held out her hand as he turned the key in the ignition. "Thank you again; I barely missed that."
A grin spread out across his mouth, as if smiling came very easily to him. "Mah pleasure," he replied, shaking her hand. "By the way, mah name is Christian."
"Rogue."
They drove mostly in silence, except for the few occasions where Rogue had to tell him where to turn. Christian whistled again as he drove up the long, winding driveway to the mansion. "You live here?" he asked.
Smiling to herself, Rogue nodded in assent. "Yes, but it's also a school. So, I don't own it or anything."
"Oh, is that right?" His eyes glittered in curiosity as he took in the school, parking right across from the entrance. By now, the rain was beating down on the ground relentlessly at full force, not giving way an inch. "Be careful out there," he advised as she opened the door, and stepped out.
"I will. And, thanks again for the ride."
Christian waved his hand away in dismissal. "Ah was happy to help," he shouted through the window as he pulled away.
She stood there for more than a minute, looking after him as the red rear lights disappeared down the driveway. That man had seemed so happy for some reason - carefree. It made her feel so separated from the rest of the world to be outside in the rain, feeling as if there was nothing to look forward to because the love of her life had married someone else.
Lightning split across the sky, making her forget her musings and bringing her to the realization that she was still outside and soaking wet. Digging in her purse for the key, she dragged it out and slipped it into the lock, thankful to be back inside of a warm, dry place.
For a split second, she'd almost forgotten what the empty house meant, momentarily confused as to why she was alone. Then, she remembered that the school was at the reception, celebrating Jean and Logan's wedding.
Logan's wedding.
Rogue raced up the stairs, her soaked shoes leaving wet prints on the carpet.