Don't die,
It was all I wanted to say,
Please don't die.
But she did.
The entire mansion's dark, the new recruits don't know yet. Chuck will have a meeting in a few hours, I'm sure everyone will put on a brave face, they'll push away their grief and pretend that it was ok, that she died justly, she died for a cause.
But there was no justice in her death. It was only a part of the cycle; we can rack up one more loss against Trask. I don't care about the losing; I care about the fact that they'll lie. They'll say she died instantly, that there was no pain.
Lies. She didn't die right away, I held her there, and she was looking at me, lips moving silently. I know what she was trying to say, she was saying, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
For what? For taking the bullet? No. She was sorry it had to end like that, that the last thing she would know was war. She was sorry she wouldn't live to see mutants and humans living together.
And she was sorry, so desperately sorry, that she had let the mask down too late. Now she would have no chance to tell Kurt how much he meant to her, tell Kitty how much she enjoyed her company, or tell Remy that he was more that a swamp rat in her heart. The last thing she said was, "Goodbye, Dad."
Yeah, she called me Dad. When it was just she and I, she called me Dad. She was my daughter, I was her father. We were a family, and now she's gone.
Parents should never have to bury their own children.
But I won't even get to do that. Chuck won't risk any more of his precious X-Men to go and recover Rogue's body, so now Trask can have his way with her. You know, she was still alive when we left the warehouse, and we, her family of sorts, had to retreat.
The last thing she saw was her family leaving her.
Damn them. I could have taken the agents; I could have killed them all if I needed to. But we had to leave her there, lying in her own blood.
There's someone on the lawn, they aren't even trying to hide, just walking up here calmly. I guess I should move from the stoop, go see who it is, but what's the point, the world's not worth saving.
It's Remy. I can tell from the trench coat. He's not doing anything, just sitting down beside me on the stoop. He lights up a cigarette, offers me one, I decline.
He doesn't know that she's dead.
"What's up, mon ami?" His voice startles me; it's been silent for a while.
"She's gone."
Please don't make me say any more than that, don't make me explain. "Who?"
Once again I shake my head, I let my head fall into my hands; don't even care about seeming brave. Rogue's dead, my daughter's dead, I shouldn't have to be strong. "Remy, Rogue's dead."
He stands up, his cigarette falling to the floor; I stub it out with my toe. "You is joking wit' Remy, aren't you Wolfie?"
I can hear the desperation in his voice, how much he wants it to be true, I do too. I would give everything to have Rogue walk out right now and tell us to stop blubbering; we've got work to do. But she won't. Because she's dead. "She's dead, Remy."
He falls to his knees, blinking his eyes a few times. A few shallow breathes from each of us, he stands up, brushes the grass off his knees, and sits beside me on the stoop. His voice is rough, I can smell tears, "how did it happen?"
And so I have to explain.
About ten minutes later and it's finished. I only had to tell the basic story, there aren't words to express the way she breathed, the way her tears fell, our how her eyes looked as they lost focus. Remy can figure that out for himself. Chuck's voice sounds in my head.
~Everyone, to the dining room, we have things to discuss, you will not be attending school or practice sessions today. ~
I stand up, as does Remy, we both walk inside, neither saying a word.
* The Dining Room *
Everyone's sitting down, most of the recruits are smiling and trading handshakes, I'm sure they think it's a holiday. Only Bobby's quiet, he's always been perceptive, I bet he already knows. They don't think anything of the fact that Rogue's not here, she didn't usually attend meetings.
No one mentions the fact that Remy's in attendance, we both take a seat. Jean's eyes are dry, but what would you expect? Scott's hands are clenched; grasping the arms of the chair like letting go would mean death. Kitty's nose and eyes are red; she has her head in her arms. Kurt won't meet anyone's gaze, he stares straight ahead.
The professor doesn't say anything for a while, he folds his hands and looks around the table. When his eyes fall on me I feel myself get angry. Right now I hate him. They are all his puppets, they do whatever he tells them to, if he told them to kill one of their own they would. Remy's also angry, I can feel rage boiling under a calm composure.
"My X-Men, we are fighting a war." He pauses; no one speaks, although the recruits are still smiling about not having to go to school. "And every war, no matter how just, must have casualties."
That stops any jokes, sniggers, everything. Kitty breaks down; her shoulders are shaking with the pressure of the tears. Kurt pats her on the back while she cries herself out. It takes a little while, about five minutes. When her sobs trail off, Chuck begins again. "As you know, last night we went on a mission to track some of Trask's agents, but we were ambushed, and we suffered our first casualty."
I can almost see the recruits trying to figure out who it is, I can't stand this. But it appears that neither can Kurt. He stands up, and begins to speak, "It was Rogue. We lost Rogue."
The recruits gasp, Kitty begins to cry again, even a few tears seep out from under Scott's sunglasses. The professor speaks again, he's still being so sickeningly calm, "Rogue died honorably, she took a bullet for one of our own, she gave up her life for us. She was selfless, and will never be forgotten."
That's true, she'll always be remembered, but only as the first X-Men to die. How will the future generations understand her struggle, her strength? They won't. No one will really know her,
No one will know my daughter.
-Logan
A/N: to be honest, I really don't like this chapter. It doesn't really flow like the others. But oh well, I needed to write, and it came out as this horrible excuse for a story. Sorry you wasted your time reading this.
Next Chapter:??? (It's cold, though I can't really feel it. My skin pulls up in goosebumps, where am I?)
It was all I wanted to say,
Please don't die.
But she did.
The entire mansion's dark, the new recruits don't know yet. Chuck will have a meeting in a few hours, I'm sure everyone will put on a brave face, they'll push away their grief and pretend that it was ok, that she died justly, she died for a cause.
But there was no justice in her death. It was only a part of the cycle; we can rack up one more loss against Trask. I don't care about the losing; I care about the fact that they'll lie. They'll say she died instantly, that there was no pain.
Lies. She didn't die right away, I held her there, and she was looking at me, lips moving silently. I know what she was trying to say, she was saying, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
For what? For taking the bullet? No. She was sorry it had to end like that, that the last thing she would know was war. She was sorry she wouldn't live to see mutants and humans living together.
And she was sorry, so desperately sorry, that she had let the mask down too late. Now she would have no chance to tell Kurt how much he meant to her, tell Kitty how much she enjoyed her company, or tell Remy that he was more that a swamp rat in her heart. The last thing she said was, "Goodbye, Dad."
Yeah, she called me Dad. When it was just she and I, she called me Dad. She was my daughter, I was her father. We were a family, and now she's gone.
Parents should never have to bury their own children.
But I won't even get to do that. Chuck won't risk any more of his precious X-Men to go and recover Rogue's body, so now Trask can have his way with her. You know, she was still alive when we left the warehouse, and we, her family of sorts, had to retreat.
The last thing she saw was her family leaving her.
Damn them. I could have taken the agents; I could have killed them all if I needed to. But we had to leave her there, lying in her own blood.
There's someone on the lawn, they aren't even trying to hide, just walking up here calmly. I guess I should move from the stoop, go see who it is, but what's the point, the world's not worth saving.
It's Remy. I can tell from the trench coat. He's not doing anything, just sitting down beside me on the stoop. He lights up a cigarette, offers me one, I decline.
He doesn't know that she's dead.
"What's up, mon ami?" His voice startles me; it's been silent for a while.
"She's gone."
Please don't make me say any more than that, don't make me explain. "Who?"
Once again I shake my head, I let my head fall into my hands; don't even care about seeming brave. Rogue's dead, my daughter's dead, I shouldn't have to be strong. "Remy, Rogue's dead."
He stands up, his cigarette falling to the floor; I stub it out with my toe. "You is joking wit' Remy, aren't you Wolfie?"
I can hear the desperation in his voice, how much he wants it to be true, I do too. I would give everything to have Rogue walk out right now and tell us to stop blubbering; we've got work to do. But she won't. Because she's dead. "She's dead, Remy."
He falls to his knees, blinking his eyes a few times. A few shallow breathes from each of us, he stands up, brushes the grass off his knees, and sits beside me on the stoop. His voice is rough, I can smell tears, "how did it happen?"
And so I have to explain.
About ten minutes later and it's finished. I only had to tell the basic story, there aren't words to express the way she breathed, the way her tears fell, our how her eyes looked as they lost focus. Remy can figure that out for himself. Chuck's voice sounds in my head.
~Everyone, to the dining room, we have things to discuss, you will not be attending school or practice sessions today. ~
I stand up, as does Remy, we both walk inside, neither saying a word.
* The Dining Room *
Everyone's sitting down, most of the recruits are smiling and trading handshakes, I'm sure they think it's a holiday. Only Bobby's quiet, he's always been perceptive, I bet he already knows. They don't think anything of the fact that Rogue's not here, she didn't usually attend meetings.
No one mentions the fact that Remy's in attendance, we both take a seat. Jean's eyes are dry, but what would you expect? Scott's hands are clenched; grasping the arms of the chair like letting go would mean death. Kitty's nose and eyes are red; she has her head in her arms. Kurt won't meet anyone's gaze, he stares straight ahead.
The professor doesn't say anything for a while, he folds his hands and looks around the table. When his eyes fall on me I feel myself get angry. Right now I hate him. They are all his puppets, they do whatever he tells them to, if he told them to kill one of their own they would. Remy's also angry, I can feel rage boiling under a calm composure.
"My X-Men, we are fighting a war." He pauses; no one speaks, although the recruits are still smiling about not having to go to school. "And every war, no matter how just, must have casualties."
That stops any jokes, sniggers, everything. Kitty breaks down; her shoulders are shaking with the pressure of the tears. Kurt pats her on the back while she cries herself out. It takes a little while, about five minutes. When her sobs trail off, Chuck begins again. "As you know, last night we went on a mission to track some of Trask's agents, but we were ambushed, and we suffered our first casualty."
I can almost see the recruits trying to figure out who it is, I can't stand this. But it appears that neither can Kurt. He stands up, and begins to speak, "It was Rogue. We lost Rogue."
The recruits gasp, Kitty begins to cry again, even a few tears seep out from under Scott's sunglasses. The professor speaks again, he's still being so sickeningly calm, "Rogue died honorably, she took a bullet for one of our own, she gave up her life for us. She was selfless, and will never be forgotten."
That's true, she'll always be remembered, but only as the first X-Men to die. How will the future generations understand her struggle, her strength? They won't. No one will really know her,
No one will know my daughter.
-Logan
A/N: to be honest, I really don't like this chapter. It doesn't really flow like the others. But oh well, I needed to write, and it came out as this horrible excuse for a story. Sorry you wasted your time reading this.
Next Chapter:??? (It's cold, though I can't really feel it. My skin pulls up in goosebumps, where am I?)