[past]

Wolverine watched from the back of the room, safely obscured with the lights off. She flipped through the channels carelessly and the screen seemed to emphasize the pastiness of her skin. He had a feeling she was more interested in the distraction than the actual programming.

She was Rogue and yet she was different. Same insecurities, same doubts, but much less gentle. She was like a coiled spring, quick to anger, he wanted to say less mature. But that was understandable. Unlike in the last timeline, Mystique got to her first.

This Rogue was a trained assassin, a trained thief, a former terrorist, and while none of that bothered Logan (aside from how he hated how Rogue was taken advantage of), a few of the others were nervous and offended, and understandably so. They were X-Men, but they didn't grow up fighting and they weren't soldiers. Except for Ororo, most everyone had a peaceful enough childhood. Mixing Rogue and the likes of Kitty Pryde together was like tossing a suburban teenager into a war zone.

"I know ya there, sugah. If ya goin' ta try it, at least spare me the suspense. You're adamantium claws just might do the trick."

Logan raised an eyebrow. He was surprised she even sensed him. He had been as silent as possible, and as a natural hunter, he could be very discrete. And his thoughts were also drawn to how she assumed he was there to punish her or even worse. "I'm not here to hurt you," he sighed. He stepped up to the right of the couch. "How'd you know I was there?"

Rogue twitched her nose. "Ya have a strong smell. La'hke an animal. Kudos on being so quiet though."

He rolled his shoulders. "I smell like an animal? You sure got a way with words."

She laughed. "A clean animal. I kinda lah'ke it." She put the remote down and looked at him gravely. "If ya can't go through with it, Ah'll help you. Do ah need ta describe her last moments? She was grippin' mah arms-"

"No!" he growled, confused as to why she kept bringing the subject up. He'd gladly talk it over with her if she needed to, if she needed someone to listen, but it was more like she was trying to torture herself.

She quirked her head. "But y'all were friends. Isn't the natural thing to do is get revenge?"

Logan closed his eyes and shook his head. Dismissing the surprise that she knew about his past, he decided to focus on her thinking habits. "Listen, even if I remembered her, I wouldn't attack you. It's not right. There's nothing we can do about it now. Would I be disappointed? Yes. Would I be speaking to you? It depends on how well I knew her. But physically assaulting you wouldn't be the answer."

She scrunched her eyebrows. "Do ya remember anything?"

It was at that moment Logan realized reaching her was going to be a lot more difficult than he initially assumed. Plopping down at the far end he admitted, "No, I don't."

She pulled her knees further into her chest and studied him. Strangely she felt secure around him. And at least for the time being, he was much less judgmental. (Although she was sure that would change once he did remember.) "Do ya want me ta tell ya time together? She'll let me."

Logan gave her a long hard look. She looked hopeful for once, and he had no idea why, but he'd let Chuck figure out the intricacies of her psychological condition. He also wasn't pleased this Carol exercised so much control over her. But that was another thing he had to trust the Professor to deal with. "I'd appreciate that."

X

"What are your thoughts Logan?"

Professor Xavier, having finished a session with Rogue, addressed his longtime friend, wanting to get another person's perspective. Particularly a person with lots of experience with the girl, albeit from another timeline.

Wolverine scratched her chin. "She's messed up. Almost as bad as I was. She suspicious, unused to kindness, she expects the worse from everyone. She's reclusive, she spaces out. I could go on and on. The bottom line I think, Chuck, is that we're simply dealing with a girl that's mentally scarred. She had an abusive childhood, followed by that stint with Mystique. She's never been taught how to be normal, so to speak."

The Professor nodded. "I too think that's an appropriate way to put it. Which is why I'm calling in a therapist who specializes in cases like hers, one who's open to the ideas of mutants of course. I might have the skill to put her mind back together, but I'm not qualified to mend the cracks."

Logan grunted. "I can already tell you, she won't go for that. She's stubborn."

Xavier nodded. "I know. Which is why I'm informing you."

So, the Professor was entrusting her to his care. Logan was happy, knowing that perhaps he'll have the chance to form a bond just as strong as last time, but it was also going to be a burden, he could tell. He briefly wondered if this was the Professor's way of keeping him chained to the mansion. "I'll see what I can do," he nonetheless relented. His past could wait. Moving on, he walked over to the window which looked out over the front courtyard. Tomorrow would be Friday, and a lot of students would be leaving to spend the weekend with their parents. "Have you learned anything else about the Phoenix?"

Xavier furrowed his eyebrows. "I have not come across any more texts aside from the one I showed you last week. I'm disturbed by how they mention this mystical being, but never go into its weaknesses or if it can be stopped."

Logan dropped his gaze to his knuckles and flexed the tendons in the back of his hands. "There's one way," he muttered. Then his eyes lit up. "The cure."

Xavier waited for him to go on.

It felt bad proposing the cure as a possible solution, because they were mutants, and they were proud of the fact. They should be. "They develop a cure pretty soon. I hate to bring it up. But..." he closed his eyes. "It's better than the alternative."

The Professor folded his hands together. "I see. We will keep that in mind. However, we also must keep being hopeful that a more digestible solution will present itself to us. Which reminds me, I did run across some mentions of En Sabah Nur while I was researching the Phoenix. It turns out he has been a regular fixture in history."

Logan nodded absently, his mind still on Jean. His feelings were mixed. Seeing her whole again, the same feelings he experienced before came back just as strong. But she was still with Scott. And after the events in the other timeline, seeing as how he had helped release the Phoenix, maybe it was better if he just kept his distance. As much as it hurt him. "I need to go for a ride, Chuck. Don't worry, I'll be back."

X

Rogue inspected her new room with a resigned eye. The X-Men had reserved a less than chilly welcome for her which was to be expected. Aside from Xavier, who was as understanding and merciful as she heard, except Mystique preferred to use the word 'weak.'

The bed felt nice, and the dorm came lightly furnished. She could get used to this, especially considering how often she moved around before. She spent basically a year going from hotel to hotel, and she did not call that kind of lifestyle living.

Given her condition, every luxury helped. She may not ever be able to touch someone, more precisely, be intimate, but she could have the same warm shower to go home to every night. At least the warm shower prevented her from completely giving up on her existence.

She realized that if Xavier does manage to help her, then that, on top of him allowing her to board here freely, will place her in his considerable debt. He might've claimed he was doing this out of principle, but no one could be that pure.

She had learned from a young age, if a mutant took an interest in her, it was only to possess her powers.

Still, the Professor had another thing coming if he thought he was going to use her. Once she has more control, then she's slipping out of here. No need to give him the opportunity to guilt her into doing anything. Mystique had done that enough.

On the third floor she also had a good view of the courtyard. Students were being dropped off by their parents, having been away for the weekend. But it was Sunday night, and tomorrow school would begin for them. Life was by no means normal for these kids, but they looked happy overall. On the inside she was glad a man like Xavier decided to do this for mutant children. While she may not find his "superhero" squad appealing, she couldn't argue with his school and it positive effects.

Rogue watched one Chinese-American girl race towards the steps. I may not have any future worthwhile, but if I could see these kids with one, then maybe I could be satisfied.

That was encroaching upon dangerous territory, however, and she quickly dismissed those thoughts. She didn't remember the last time she sounded so hopeful, and she attributed it to seeing the X-Men behaving so united, as a team, and perhaps even somewhat of a family. Everything she missed.

She didn't bring any spare clothes, unfortunately. It's not like she had the opportunity to go back to where she and Mystique had been staying for her stuff. Instead it had been a long and tiresome trip from San Francisco, periodically walking and flying to the East Coast, it wasn't under her control. There were more than a few craters and swathes of trees knocked over from where she suddenly lost altitude.

It was a miracle she managed to not spiral through the roof of the mansion. She must have been a mile high in the sky when she finally spotted the right plot of land, which she pulled from Carol's memories. The next obstacle was getting down and seeing as she still does not have even five percent of control over flying, it was more like a dead drop. Luckily, she managed to pull up at the last minute, because it was sure going to hurt hitting the ground at free fall.

[present]

"...I'd been a miner for a heart of gold..."

"...it keeps me searching for a heart of gold..."

"...and I'm getting old..."

Sitting here at this table, among friendly neighbors, who just an hour ago were complete strangers, was an experience far removed from anything she had experienced in the last decade. It was an experience that she never expected to come around again in this world that had set its face so against her and her kind.

She recalled all the way to the very beginning when she was a different person. Not in any way a nice person. When she was self-serving and vindictive. The kind of woman who spends months trying to kill a simple rock star.

Xavier accepted her though. Yes, Rogue remembered, her fork pausing halfway to her mouth. Xavier gave her a chance when no one else was willing to.

And she wasn't perfect. By any means. Her name was Rogue after all. She didn't exactly have a history of cooperating or falling in line. And her relationship with Remy provided excellent opportunities to display how self-absorbed and petty she could be.

None of that mattered though. If the X-Men had just been teammates or even friends, sure, it probably would've led to a lot of strife. But they were more than that, a family. And they were willing to forgive each other seventy times seven times.

Rogue was drawn out of her thoughts when Logan reached over and handed Laura a fork. Rogue couldn't help but laugh. "Reminds me of another girl a long time ago,
she said referring to herself. "This one didn't have anyone looking out for her though," she winked towards Laura.

Remy leaned back and cracked a smile as well. "That may be a true statement, chere. But if you ask me, she reminds me more of Logan right here after he got back from one of his trips. Never seen a man scarf down more chicken and I'm from New Orleans."

Logan sighed. He really hated the professor right now for insisting they stay for dinner. Already he could feel old habits falling back in place. And an old camaraderie better left in the past. Nevertheless, he followed along with the conversation to keep up appearances. Laura wasn't exactly helping their case after all. Nor did she help his old bones, having made him chase her a couple miles down the road from the café and drag her back, earning odd looks while doing so.

"You're from Louisiana," the father reiterated, his suspicions confirmed. If the man's accent was anything to go by.

"Born and bred in the bayou," Remy nodded. "If you want to go travelling that's a good as place as any to start. Unless in the summer. The insects will eat you alive."

"I can drop out of school," the boy supplied.

"Okay, let's not go that far," his mother warned him.

"And why would you want to do that Nate?" the Professor inquired.

"Careful," Logan interjected, "you're speaking to a man who ran a school a lot of years, right Charles?"

"Well yes. It was a- it was a... kind of special needs school," the Professor explained.

"Oh yeah, that's a good description," Logan replied, slicing his steak in half.

The Professor decided to let it be known that Logan was there as well. Remy didn't have a good feeling where this was going.

"Oh yeah, no, I got kicked out a few times," Logan joked.

"I wish I could say you were a good pupil, but the words would choke me," the Professor continued to even Laura's delight.

Rogue smiled sympathetically at Logan. "He didn't have a great attendance record, but he did keep the students safe."

"So, you attended as well," the mother answered.

Rogue placed down her utensils and folded her hands together. "In a manner of speaking. Remy was there for a little bit too. We were mostly chaperones. I don't have a fancy degree like the Professor here."

"No, but she has countless other skills and a treasure trove of knowledge that suit her even better," the Professor assured them. "The same for Remy here."

Remy coughed into his fist. "I guess if you include street smarts, I do have everyone beat."

"Very modest," Rogue rolled her eyes. "And for the record, no one counts 'street smarts' as you call it."

"Oh, and what does mademoiselle bring to the table."

"Un cerveau différent de toi," Rogue replied, twitching her nose.

"Je connais aussi deux langues."

"Kennst du drei?" And Rogue knew she had him.

"Well, you didn't have to study for-"

"A great meal!" Logan declared, standing up to offer his plate to the mother who was busy washing the dishes in the sink.

…

"So, what about you Logan? Are you married?"

Logan inwardly groaned. The conversation never would go in a good direction.