The kids were brought outside after classes were finished for the day. They were led to the small playground that had been recently built just behind the mansion.
Some of the kids ran to claim one of the seats on the swing set or to be the first to ride down the slide but most had decided to gang attack an unsuspecting Hank, screaming and yelling with glee. Hank faked a growl which scared only a few of the newer kids but most of then knew the big blue man wouldn't even hurt a fly. One by one, Hank had managed to get most of the kids off but they only re-grouped and attacked again.
Jubilee had taken charge of Jack once he drooled himself out on Hank -- she did have a designer shirt to consider -- and was given a pacifier; she also took some extra towels as a precaution. She carried Jack over to where Kitty was sitting nearby, a blanket already spread out on the grass.
Peter came outside, looking for Kitty but, instead, he was greeted by a welcoming battle cry of 'get him!' It was only a matter of time before both Hank and Peter had kids hanging off of them -- on their backs, their arms, their legs. It was Peter who was brought down first and there was much rolling in the grass and uncontrollable giggle-fits before either of them could get back up on his feet.
Logan (the dog) and Scottie trotted past the pile of screaming children toward where Jubilee and Kitty were sitting. The dogs took turns licking Jack's face while he used the dogs as leverage to try to sit himself upright. Jack would eventually tumble over -- which made Kitty babble on and on about babies' soft spots and brain development -- but the dogs would just instinctively know to shift over to let him try again.
Rogue and John were sitting under one of the big oak trees that provided a good amount of shade, where they had been talking quietly for awhile.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He looked lost in thought for a moment. "Yeah...no...I don't know... Christ..." She just watched as he ran a hand through his hair. "So I was the resident asshole, huh?"
"You weren't an asshole...just...very opinionated." She chewed on her lip in worry, wringing her hands together. "You were always nice to me."
They just sat there, under the tree, in silence. He was staring off into the distance while she kept sneaking glances at him, wondering what he could be thinking.
"I haven't been sleeping much lately," he said suddenly. She kept silent, waiting for him to continue. "I keep having this dream."
"Of..." she started, hesitantly, "of that night when your wife..." She just trailed off, she couldn't finish that question out loud.
"I wish..." he snorted. She certainly didn't like the sound of that. "I've been having this dream...for awhile...before I even met Jess… Can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"Was I...was I ever in Boston?"
"What?"
"My dream...you're in it. And Logan. And another guy -- I think I saw him here at the mansion, I'm not sure what his name is. We're all standing in front of this house...on the front porch, I think. There's police everywhere...police cars on the lawn...they're surrounding us. I see Logan getting shot and then you and..."
"Bobby. His name is Bobby."
"So it wasn't just my overactive imagination…"
She nodded.
"Did I...did I do something?"
"What?" She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that somewhere deep down inside of him, his subconscious would remember that day. That day of all days.
"Did I do something stupid? Something bad?" he asked quietly, his attention caught by the sight of his daughter in the distance. She was talking and giggling with a group of girls. One would think they were all the bests of friends instead of kids who had met just a few hours ago. She looks like she did before all this mess happened, he thought.
"I don't know where to start," she murmured, staring down at her hands.
"Just tell me."
"The school was attacked…by some people," she said vaguely. "We…you, me, Bobby, and Logan escaped together. We went to Boston -- Bobby's family lives there, we were at their house that day. Bobby's brother, Ronnie, had called the police on us...because we were...we were mutants. Logan tried to get us out of the house but the police...they were already at the house. They had us surrounded. Logan...he was trying to reason with them." She gave out a short huff of laughter at the memory. "I think that was the only time I've seen him try to be reasonable, he's usually in fight-now-talk-later mode. I think he was so calm only because we were there with him and he couldn't defend all of us at the same time, you know? One of the policemen got spooked though and shot him. I don't think he meant to shoot... I don't know. Then they demanded that the rest of us get down on the ground. Bobby and I did. But you...you just stood there. Then I hear you say..." She hesitated. This wasn't something that she wanted to tell him. She could tell him about anything else but not this...
"What did I say?"
Damnit...why did she bring that last part up? "You said..."
She could remember like it was yesterday. She had never seen him look so fierce and determined like he did on that day, at that moment.
I'm the worst one…
"You know what? It was nothing. And…I don't even think I heard you right."
"Rogue..."
"Please...don't make me tell you..."
They were both silent, the sounds of the children playing, most of them still crawling all over Hank and Peter, filling the air.
"Did I...did I hurt anybody?"
She bit her lip. "I don't think so."
"Was it bad?"
"It wasn't...terrible."
"Rogue..."
She sighed heavily, brushing away a loose strand of hair from her face. "You were just defending us. And they did shoot first…so…it was justifiable."
She turned to look at him but he was just staring off into space again. She wondered if he would ask what else had happened -- would she tell him about how she had used her own mutation against him? how they had argued later that night by the campfire?
He stood up all of a sudden, startling her. He started to walk away.
"John? John?" She got on her feet to follow him. "Wait!"
He stopped for a brief moment, his back to her. "I need to go feed Jack. I'll see you later." He paused before saying, "Thank you."
He continued walking toward where Jubilee and Kitty were trying to calm a cranky and squirmy Jack, his pacifier falling out of his mouth. The moment Jack saw his father come into his view, he reached out his chubby little hands for him.
Rogue stood by the oak tree and watched as he picked up Jack, saying something to Jubilee and Kitty. He called out to Maggie who just nodded in reply and went back to playing with her new friends. He disappeared inside the mansion, the two dogs trailing after him.
She started to follow him again when someone stopped her.
"Rogue!"
She saw Bobby coming towards her. "What do you want?"
"I...uh...I...I saw you talking with him."
"Yeah, so?"
"What were you guys talking about?"
"What do you think we were talking about?"
Bobby just stared at her. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"
She sighed, wondering when this conversation had suddenly become about him. "We've talked about this already when I came back."
"Can't we go back to where we used to be?"
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Go back to where they used to be? He couldn't be that naive, could he? Then again, this was Bobby.
"I have to go," she told him, trying to walk around him.
He grabbed her arm. "Just tell me something first. Are doing this for him or for you?"
"What the hell are you talking about now?"
"Are you telling him everything? You're not glossing over a few facts?"
A satisfying crack went through the air as her hand made contact with his cheek. "Fuck you, Drake." She shoved him out of her way.
--
She knocked on his door but there was no answer. She knocked again, a little harder and louder, but still no answer. She chewed on her finger out of nervous habit, trying to decide what to do. She had already looked in all the other obvious places he could be. She just wanted to make sure he was all right.
She opened the door and took a look around. Jack was in a crib, sleeping soundly, mouth hanging wide open. Logan (the dog) and Scottie were sitting outside of the bathroom door -- they just looked at her as she entered but didn't bark or growl at her presence.
Then the bathroom door opened and there he stood...shirtless and a little bit taken aback to see her in the room.
Wow. Whatever workout regime the fire department has...it's working... Workout working...heh... Okay, what the heck is the matter with my brain?
She flushed and started to stammer. "I...I...I'm sorry! I knocked twice but I guess you didn't hear me." She absolutely had to stop talking like Jubilee. "I just wanted to make sure...you know...you were okay..."
She started to fidget around the room, another nervous habit, stopping only to smooth out a blanket that was folded over the dresser as a makeshift changing table. She fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket, just to have something to do and not ogle him like a piece of meat.
"Jack just decided to spit up the milk instead of actually drinking it. Got all over my shirt."
"Oh! Right! Of course! Spilt milk! Right!" What is wrong with her brain now? It was like two words were her maximum limit for sentences. She had to resist the urge to thump herself on the head.
"Err...Rogue? You're blocking the dresser."
"Sorry!" She jumped out of the way.
When he reached out to open one of the drawers, she couldn't help but stare. Her hormones were going into overdrive, leaving her feeling all achy and tingly and...melt-y.
Wait, melt-y? Was that a word?
Her gaze roamed over him while he was searching for a shirt. She inwardly winced when she saw the scars from the bullets he must have gotten that fateful night. Then her eyes fell on his arm and she gasped. She jerked him closer to get a better look, surprising him as the shirt he pulled out fell to the floor.
"What happened?" she asked as she skimmed her hand over the red ragged mark. She never noticed it before, he always had on long sleeved shirts for some reason or he was carrying Jack or Maggie or even one of the dogs around in his arms. Then again, right now when he had nothing covering it up, it had taken her another good five minutes before noticing the obvious discoloration. Hey, she had a good excuse...it wasn't like a good sane healthy girl was going to look there when she had all that other muscle-y goodness in front of her.
Was muscle-y a word? Brain, stop messing around!
He looked down to where she was touching, remembering the time when he had gotten burnt during that first fire. For some reason, the skin had never healed properly even with all those ointments and lotions his doctor had prescribed for him.
He shrugged and dismissively said, "It's nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing," she murmured. "It doesn't hurt?"
"No. Not really…"
She was tracing the outline of the mark -- it looked like Australia to her, complete with the small island of Tasmania at the bottom. She was going to tell him that when she realized how much closer they had gotten, he was only a few inches away. She felt herself sway against him, brushing against his chest -- she doesn't even realize how tense he became.
"I don't..." he started to say.
The mood was broken when someone loudly cleared his throat from the open doorway.
"Logan!" She was even more surprised when Logan (the dog) barked and trotted over to her, Scottie following close by. The dogs sat at her feet, tails wagging, and waited expectantly for her do something or, at the very least, give them treats.
"I think she was talking to me, buddy," Logan (the man) growled. Logan (the dog) gave Logan (the man) what could only be described as a sniff of disdain as the two dogs settled back in their place next to the crib. "Jesus, they do cuddle."
"Did you need something?" John asked, pulling a shirt on over his head -- much to Rogue's dismay.
"Right...you got a package. A big friggin' box too." Logan went back into the hallway and came back in the room, carrying the 'big friggin' box.' "Where do you want it?"
"Uh...over there, I guess."
Logan dropped the box on the bed, watching it bounce a little bit on the springs, before turning around and arching a brow to Rogue.
"So...um...what's in the box?" Logan asked, clearly trying to delay his exit.
Does he think I need a chaperone? We weren't doing anything. At least, not yet... Oh my God, brain, seriously…just stop it…
She was startled out of her thoughts when she finally heard Logan calling out her name. "Rogue! You okay?"
"What?"
"Your face...you're all red... You sure you're not coming down with something? You want to go downstairs and have Jean check you over?"
She gritted her teeth. He was trying to act like a frickin' chaperone. Cripes. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Hank's down there too -- well, I think he is. Probably has a couple of kids still hanging off of him...but he's down there and you know, he was showing me this really nifty thermometer..."
She dug her fingers into Logan's arm, pulling him to one of the corners of the room. "Excuse us for a second." John just looked at them, wondering what the hell was going on. "What are you doing?" she hissed at him.
"Why are we whispering? And, damnit, that's starting to hurt! Ever hear of a nail clipper?"
Her fingers only dug in even deeper. "I asked you a question! What are you doing?"
"I'm just here...making small talk...shooting the breeze..."
"Bullshit."
"Rogue! Language!"
She rolled her eyes, this was just too much. Was he really admonishing her for this? Him? The frickin' Wolverine? The one who taught her and probably the rest of the mansion's residents most, if not all, the curse words in their vocabulary? "He got some milk on his shirt, he was just changing... Nothing happened. And why are you making such a big deal about this anyways? I lived with a guy for six months and you weren't so worked up about him... Whatever happened to the whole 'I'm not your father, I'm your friend' deal, huh?"
"Yeah, well, I lied. And you don't want to be reminding me of that assho...I mean, that idiot ex-boyfriend of yours. He's lucky he wasn't in arm's reach..."
"What? So you can do to him what you did to Bobby? Yeah, I heard all about that when I got back."
He was decent enough to look embarrassed. "He deserved what he got," he muttered.
"Wasn't arguing with you there..."
Logan gave her a skeptical look, giving his own sniff of disdain. "Well, next time you're feeling frisky, you should probably close the door. And make sure I'm dead and buried -- under six feet of dirt and concrete. In fact, make sure I'm in whole 'nother country with a gigantic mountain on top of my grave..."
"Nothing happened!"
He went on like she hadn't interrupted, "…a gigantic mountain and a soundproof fence around it because I don't ever want to know about you doing…that..."
"Logan!" At the sound of his name being called again, Logan (the dog) raised his head.
"Christ, I'm gonna need to change my name now... I need a drink." Logan (the man) rubbed a hand over his face, clearly disgruntled. He looked at Rogue then at John, narrowing his eyes in warning although John only looked back in confusion.
Before leaving the room, Logan (the man) said, "I'm gonna leave the door open. Just in case..."
John looked at Rogue for some kind of explanation, but she could only offer him an apologetic smile.
She was desperate for a change in subject. Her eyes fell on the box Logan had left behind on the bed.
"It looks like it's been all around the country." The mailing address was crossed off so many times, there seemed to be little room for a return address. "Who's it from?"
He shifted awkwardly on his feet. He was still trying to get his head around what she had told him and he just needed some time alone to sort it all out.
"Well? What's in it?" She can be oblivious when she wanted to be. She knew he wanted to be alone. But leaving him alone would only result in intense brooding and probably some sulking. He might be different in many ways now but some things could never change. Deep down inside, somewhere under that dark morass of memory loss, he was still the John she knew. She wanted to believe that. "Let's open it!"
"Uh...okay..." Reluctantly, he ripped open the tape from the box and opened it. He started to pull out some of the items inside -- t-shirts, dresses, baby bibs, shoes...
"How did...? Are these...from your house?"
"I asked one of my neighbors to send them... I didn't pack enough clothes for the kids."
"So all the addresses on the box...?"
He just shrugged. "Can't be too careful. Even called him from a payphone in some no-name town just to be sure..."
She didn't know how to respond to that; she just kept quiet and watched him as he peeled off an envelope that was taped to the inside of the box.
Hey,
All this secrecy, feels like James Bond, man. Or at least, a poor man's Austin Powers, right? Yeah, I'm a real fucking comedian...
Well, I packed all the clothes you wanted me to send and a couple of extra stuff for you. Call me a sentimental bastard but I'd thought you might want to have them with you.
Anyways, hope you're well. God, that sounds stupid... Sorry about that. Letter writing is definitely not my forte.
Frank.
The best damn firefighter (and neighbor) in the entire state of Arizona and you know it. HA!
P.S. If you can, give us a ring at the firehouse. The guys are wondering where you are and you know how the captain worries. Like a friggin' mother hen, I'm telling ya. And tell Maggie she owes me another rousing game of Chutes and Ladders -- I know that little minx cheated the last time.
He folded the letter back up again and put it back into the envelope, a small grin forming on his lips. He chuckled when he spotted the Chutes and Ladders board game packed neatly between Jack's stuffed giraffe and Maggie's Dora the Explorer blanket. But that laughter died quickly when he saw the videotapes that were packed also.
Rogue felt her eyes start to tear -- along with an overwhelming sense of guilt washing over her -- as John traced his fingers over the handwriting on the tapes. One tape said 'wedding day' on it, another 'Maggie's birthday,' another said 'Jack's homecoming.' It was obvious who wrote those labels.
"Uh...hi, guys!" Jubilee said cheerfully, stumbling into the room. "Just wanted to return this to you. Thought Jack would miss it." She held out the forgotten pacifier to John.
Jubilee stood next to Rogue, lowering her voice so only her friend could hear. "I'm sorry... Logan threatened to do bodily harm to my Gladiator DVD!" she said, as if that explained everything. Then she looked at John with a big bright smile plastered on her face. "How's it going?"
But before he could respond, another person came running into the room.
"Oh my God...you...have to...come...see..." Siryn panted out, completely out of breath.
"Did Logan send you too?" Rogue asked irritatedly.
"What? No! The news! It's on the news! Come on!" Siryn grabbed John and dragged him out. They hurried down the stairs, John almost losing his footing on the last step, and into the TV room where a group of people had already gathered, watching the news broadcast.
"Breaking story coming out of Colorado: two men were apprehended at a local motel. They are believed to be the same men who Arizona authorities have been searching for, wanted in connection to the murder of Arizona Senator William Harrison's daughter and the attempted kidnapping of her children. As of now, they are being held without bail in a Colorado jail and awaiting extradition back to Arizona…"
John could feel all the eyes in the room on him as he stared at the screen.
"I have to make a call," he muttered before making his exit.