Chapter Three: Let Me Be Your Wings

She was a near three feet from the earth's floor, when two strong arms grabbed her. They wrapped around her, and shoved her upward, throwing themselves under her just as impact arrived. When she opened her eyes, she found herself unscratched, and perfectly unharmed. But found that Warren, who had purposely took the hit instead of her, wasn't moving. She lowered her head to his heart, and sighed in relief. "Still breathing."

She quickly hollered for help, and was glad to see Mr. McCoy racing outdoors for assistance. He scooped the male mutant up, and sped inside, heading as quickly as he could to the medical center.

Once inside, he set the mutant down on a metical bed, and began to examine him. Rogue didn't know much about Mr. McCoy, but after Jean's death (for the second time), he had become the new doctor of the school, and he was damn good at his job. The door had been closed; only Rogue allowed inside. Hank tended to Warren gently, but swiftly. Within a couple of hours, he turned and sighed.

"Everything is alright."

Rogue, who'd been waiting patiently, nodded, "How bad is he?"

"Bad, I'm afraid, but not life threatening. He'll live, I'm positive of that, but he's received some damage in his left leg that I'm not sure can ever be fixed. His wings will grow back fully in a number of months, the rest of him will heal, but his leg might not.

Rogue blushed, "How's the rest of him down below?"

Hank chuckled, "Perfectly fine, Marie. It's only his leg."

"Good, is there anything I can do?" Rogue asked.

Hank nodded, "Well, his leg will need three injections a day of this product I've created. He'll need it for about a month."

"What does it do?" Rogue asked curiously.

"Well, it makes sure that even if his leg won't be a useable part of him, it will still be alive and blood will be circulating. Basically making sure that it doesn't die, and the rest of him lives. It's odd, I've never seen this before, but something's very wrong with his leg. After a month of injections, he'll be able to walk with a crutch."

"Is it fatal if he doesn't get the injections?" Rogue asked.

Hank sighed, "Until his leg heals enough to at least be functioning partly, yes. He needs it. But I can do the injections, so you won't have to deal with that."

Rogue nodded, "Thanks for helping him. Is it alright if I stay in here?"

"It'd probably be best, actually, if you did. When he wakes, he can wake to a friendly face," Hank said, and with that, he left.

Getting no other visitors, Rogue assumed Hank informed everybody that the two needed their privacy. She sat down next to the bed, on a small metal stool. She grabbed his pale hand and placed the palm on her lips, kissing it softly.

"You'll be alright," she whispered. She was surprised at how strong her feelings had gotten for him. But you couldn't fight fate.

She sat there for a number of hours; until the sky was pitch black outside the room's window and he woke up.

"I didn't think you saw angles until after you died," he whispered.

"How do you know you're not dead?" she asked, smiling.

"Cause in heaven, there's no pain. Only beauty. So then again, I could very well be in heaven. You're too beautiful to be mortal."

"Wow," she blushed, "I didn't realize you were this cheesy. It's pretty cute."

"Most people don't stay long enough to find out," he sighed.

She smiled, "They don't know what they're missing." She leaned in a kissed him again. The result was much the same as before: a rush of feelings, yet none of them pain.

He scooted over, "Lay with me." She obeyed without protesting, and gently snuggled up to him. He shifted so they could lay together comfortably, without irritating his wounds.

"Are we together then?" he asked, "If we're kissing and sleeping together."

Rogue laughed, "No, Warren, I'm just doing this because I'm bored."

"So it's not because you can touch me?" he asked.

Rogue mumbled, "How'd you know that I can't touch?"

"I've heard things about you," he said, "People say you hurt people when you touch their skin."

"I do," she said solemnly, "And then they hurt me back by casting me out."

"Mr. Logan doesn't," Warren whispered, "From our mentions of you in class, it seems he thinks very highly of you, and I heard you touched him."

Rogue nodded, "We have a…different relationship. He's like my father."

Warren winced, "Not a good word to use."

Rogue smirked, "Sorry. He's like a caring, loving, older man."

Warren smiled quietly, "I'm not familiar with that."

Rogue nodded, "Well one day you'll be one. You'll be a father. And you, neither your kids will be ashamed to call you that. But you'll need the right woman first."

Warren blushed, "If that's all I need, then I may become a father sooner then you think."