Disclaimer: I don't have to keep saying this at the beginning of each chapter do I? I do? Well, in that case, I don't own the characters. Just borrowing, as usual.

Also, once again be warned that this chapter is kinda sad. And yes, I'm evil that way. Here goes...

No!"

Bobby yelled, too late, as he lurched forwards. But the instant he watched Rogue disappear, his limbs jolted back to life causing his feet to trip over themselves.

"Goddamn it!" Bobby cursed inwardly, as he fell, face first, to the ground. He didn't have time for this. He struggled to get up, his heart pounding madly in his chest. He tried hard, really hard not to think about steep rocky shoals of the island, or Rogue's slim chances of survival.

"Rogue!" he began to yell again, but then he noticed that the rubble beneath his feet had mysteriously transformed into a paved sidewalk, and that something had gone terribly wrong with his surroundings.

"Wha?" he stammered, unable to comprehend how Alcatraz had managed to sprout skyscrapers, streets, and a river in under a millisecond. Bobby's mouth hung open, and he gawked at the bridge that somehow materialized before him, and at the throng of impatient joggers who pushed past him to get to the other end of the bridge.

There was no doubt about it: he wasn't on Alcatraz island anymore. He was someplace ... else.

It took a couple of seconds for Bobby's disoriented brain to recognize his new surroundings. One look at the old brownstone buildings, the myriad of trees lining the streets on opposite shores, and the riverside esplanade meant one thing: he was in Boston. It was his home town after all.

But how in heaven's name did he end up here?

"Teleported?" he said out loud, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from the joggers.

"No," said his intuition, "You're not really in Boston. You are merely reliving a past memory."

Of course! Rogue had imprinted Jean's telepathic abilities ... this scene was probably playing out entirely within his mind. Didn't the Professor once tell him that a second in the real world was equivalent to ... a considerable chunk of time within someone's psyche?

But Bobby was not amused. He crossed the street with pronounced frustration, cursed violently when a cyclist nearly ran him over. But when he caught himself seriously considering freezing the bastard, figment of his mind or not, he realized that he, the Iceman, was on the verge of losing his world renowned cool. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he made his way down the set of stairs leading to banks of the Charles river.

As he expected, Rogue was waiting for him by the riverside, sprawled out on the grass, idly watching white sailboats float by like she didn't have a care in the world.

"I thought Boston was cold, and frozen," she turned her head to look at him, and he caught the slight amusement in her voice, "Kinda like you ... I thought that's why you liked it."

Bobby stopped in his tracks, unable to reply. Rogue was probably plummeting to her death in the real world, and yet, here she was, within his thoughts, making pleasantries about the weather as though nothing had happened at all. He wanted to yell at her. He wanted to somehow shake her to her senses, to tell her that if she could afford to play these mind games with him, she could goddamn afford to save herself using the telekinesis she acquired from Jean.

But when he glanced into her green eyes, enriched by the sun with a warmer hue of reflected river and trees, he saw the fiery essence of Phoenix, and the tremendous power she wielded. And he saw Marie, and himself, and countless others, saw the roles time had written for them, and he finally understood that things were as they were supposed to be. He understood how all actions and outcomes culminated in that precise moment, and although he didn't like it in the slightest, he knew he was powerless to change anything.

So instead, he swallowed the diatribe waiting to spring from the tip of his tongue, and resignedly plopped down beside her in the grass. Lying on his back, his head against his arms, he watched the clouds shiver against the wind in the blue sky.

"Actually, Boston's pretty hot in the summer. And humid. But," he said, gesturing at the warm reds and browns of the trees around him, "this is the fall.

"I like it," she said, turning back to the sailboats, "I guess that's why I chose it from your memories."

"Why did you bring me here?" Bobby asked, angling up so that he could look at her, but all he could see was her back, and her hair fluttering gently with the breeze.

"To do this," she said, and before he could react, she had turned back to face him again, and he felt her gentle fingers trace his eyelids, and his jawline. He knew that it was all in his mind, but it felt ... so good ... and so real. She leaned forward tentatively, her white bangs falling carelessly about her face, and his heart beat faster with anticipation. Finally, her soft lips met his, and she kissed him with all the passion her mutation had repressed within her. He savored her taste, sweet, refreshing, like mountain air.

She pulled away, and her eyes were still closed when he looked at her again.

"I really should have snuck up on Dr. Grey long ago, if it meant I could kiss you. Even though it's all in our heads."

An intense sadness trickled through Bobby's veins, transported by his bloodstream to the tips of his fingers, and to his very core, making him realize what could have been. He was losing her now, and yet he had lost her long ago.

"Listen, Marie –"

But of course, she already knew what he was about to say, so she cut him off.

"It's alright Bobby," she said, and her fingers had migrated to his hair, tangling and untangling his blonde locks, "I know I've made things difficult between us. And I understand why you drifted away. Why I wasn't the only one you thought about ..."

Then, her face became serious.

"I want you to be happy Bobby. After all this ... promise me you'll be happy."

His voice caught in his throat.

"Marie, I won't do –"

"Promise me, Bobby."

There was something in her voice that made him look at her, made him say those binding words, although he knew he didn't have the power to fulfill them.

"I promise."

For a moment, they were both silent. Bobby relished the feel of her thumb, now resting soothingly against the corner of his lips. Suddenly, her resolve broke, and the eyes he'd been watching brimmed with grief. So he reached out to touch her, to force her to stay with him. But her breath caught, and she said: "God... you're so beautiful."

Then he was falling again. But this time, he was prepared, and he caught his balance in the nick of time as he jolted back to reality. And he ran, God knows, he ran. He didn't care that debris on the island had settled, and the whirlwind died down one final time. He didn't care that the wind shifted, and the sun appeared beyond the clouds of ash.

All he cared about lay beyond the cliff, and when he finally reached the edge, when he finally looked down, a heavy weight descended upon his chest, and the air around him became unbreathable.

And although Icemen didn't cry, although Icemen were the epitome of cool an collected, his frozen tears, likes shards of glass, shattered against the unforgiving rocks, and sank beneath the ocean.

A/N: Please R&R, and let me know if you liked this chapter or not. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned!