She invited him in quickly, showing off three daughters, two sons, and a tiny baby, her first grandchild, she noted proudly – and bustling him into the kitchen, loading him up with a plate of food, assuring him that they had plenty. The man who had opened the door jumped in there, a teasing remark about how "Mama always made enough to feed thirty of us, and herself besides."
He took a seat, fading into the background for the most part, more then content to watch her interact with these people. She was incredibly different, but she was the same all at once, inexplicably herself and someone else that he barely recognized, but swiftly fell in love – back in love – with, as if nothing had changed from when they were teenagers and she was untouchable in more ways then one and he wanted everything he couldn't, didn't, have, as if everything had changed from the last time he'd seen her.
This was what he had missed the most. Even then, when she was separate from everyone else in the most vital and least important way, she'd been like this, the caretaker, as much as she could. It took his breath away to see her like this, the way he could tell she was always supposed to be.
She was happier then he could ever remember seeing her, and more beautiful then he knew she'd ever been. Then again, he'd changed as well, and his definition of beauty along with him.
A few hours passed, too slowly and too quickly, and soon enough she was smiling at him – oh, god, that smile – over a piece of cake while her youngest kissed her cheek and headed upstairs, "Really, Johnny. How have you been? It's been much too long."
He met her eyes, remembering how he couldn't the last time he saw her, and told her the truth, "Happy. I've been happy."
"You look it. Much healthier and happier then I can ever remember you being." She nodded.
He inhaled, "I want to apologize. I did a lot wrong, especially by you, and want you to know that I always – that I am sorry."
She shook her head slightly, and stood, crossing to where he sat to brush his hair back from his forehead and place a kiss there, "I forgave you a long time ago, sugah. I was just waiting for you to forgive yourself."
He let the breath he'd been holding out, looking up at her slowly, "Happy birthday, Rogue."
She smiled again, running her fingers through his hair and he let his eyes close, resting his forehead against her stomach, the words sliding out much easier then he'd expected they would, "I love you."
"Oh, Johnny." She slid her hands down his arms, pulling him up gently and cupping his face, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. "You've always had such a way with timing."
