RogueNya - I'll admit now that I'm really not a great fan of Bobby.

Noro - Here's the chapter :)

Amee Lyn - Nice to see a new reader.

Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

Tough, you think you've got the stuff

You're telling me and anyone

You're hard enough

You don't have to put up a fight

You don't have to always be right

Let me take some of the punches

For you tonight

- U2

He wanted to name our first born child, Bobby. He said that all great children were named after their parents. Think of the potential our child would be born with, he'd announced his eyes glistening with enthusiasm .The child of Iceman and Rogue would be a force to reckoned with, a super hero of the ages, a mutant of the people.

It was a pipe dream, a castle in the sky, to be honest, it was wishful thinking. We were fifteen and persistent day dreamers, our perceived future self's were romantic, passionate and glamorous. We would never argue, fight or disagree. We promised to discuss our differences in a calm and controlled manner. No, we would never go to sleep angry at each other and yes, we would love one another for forever and a day.

Of course, this would never last. Two years passed by and the cracks began to show, neither of us dared to admit that our seemingly perfect relationship was failing. Now four months, fifteen days and numerous hours later, I'm crouched on my knees beside the mansions garage, digging through the clotted earth under my favourite scrap of shrubbery.

"Thank fuck," I mutter to myself, relieved as I clutch the tin container in my shaking hands.

Get a grip, I need to get a damn grip. I resented Bobby, hell, I was close to hating him and at times. I fantasized about beating him black and blue. Yet, I can't banish the pain. The pain of witnessing him lying there dead, pale and lifeless.

I climb the stairs in a trance, my mind muddled with snapshots of our life together. Our first Christmas, Bobby bought me a ten dollar gift voucher to spend in Wall mart. Not the most romantic gift but it was the thought that counted, right? Hand in hand we walked through the store and I purchased a snow globe. It might not have been the most decadent of objects but I believed that it had significance.

That would be the snow globe that is currently living a lonely existence under my bed, hidden from the view of others.

Shit.

I turn the corner and am face to face with an openly sobbing Kitty. Oh and Jubilee too. "Rogue." She greets coldly.

"Jubilation."

"I don't know if you heard, but..."

"I heard." I reply, attempting to keep the emotion out of my voice.

We both stand there in silence listening to Kitty weeping and I have never felt so uncomfortable in all my life. I clear my throat and attempt to excuse myself before I say something that I just might regret.

"Wait," Kitty sniffs. "You, you won."

"Won what?" I ask understandably confused.

"I thought you... Look you won. When Bobby was, before he. His last words were about you." She sobs, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Oh" I shuffle my feet and gaze at the floor wishing I had taken another route to my room. This really isn't a conversation I want to be having.

"He said he was sorry, he wished... he, he wished he'd chosen you." Shadow Cat wails mournfully.

"Come on, Kit, I'll run you a nice hot bubble bath." Jubilee consoles her placing a hand on her back.

"Jubes, about Gambit…" I state bluntly. I want my best friend back, only now do I realize how much she truly meant to me.

"Not now." She informs me calmly.

Okay, maybe not the best time to bring the subject up but at least I made the first move. Hopefully she will now forgive me or at least find it in her heart to try.

I watch them both walk away and I stand in the hallway still holding the tin in my hands. I sigh to myself. I won't get chocked up over that bastard, he treated me like shit. He doesn't deserve absolution just because he felt sorry for himself as he lay dying.

I step into my room and close the door quietly behind me. I glare at the duffel bag beside my bed and pray there's not a spider in there.

Strolling to the en-suite, I turn on the light and peer into the mirror scrutinizing every aspect of the reflection that I'm confronted with. Jesus, what have I done to myself? My face is gaunt, my eyes are haunted and my skin is paler then usual. I might as well be a walking corpse. My forehead is a bruised mess and my hair is dull and lifeless.

I roll up my sleeves and study the fortitude of scars, cuts and gashes gracing the inside

of my arms and I feel sick. Even now witnessing the evidence of my self harming, I crave the feeling of a razor blade or a piece of glass against my skin. I want to see the blood, no, I need to see the blood. Oh God, how did I allow my life to spiral beyond my control?

I haven't been the one in charge for months, the overwhelming desire to kill the pain has. I've let it run wild, destroyed myself and now I'm just a shell.

I perch on the edge of the bath tub and submerge myself in my new found awareness. It's been a long time coming but what do I now do about it? Do I want to give up my self destructing lifestyle but more importantly do I have the strength inside me to fight the demons?

The bedroom door opens as I sit silently grasping the container.

"Hey" Logan addresses me in his usual gruff manner.

"Hey"

"What you doin' in here?" He asks, leaning against the door frame, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Thinking" I answer softly.

"You weren't supposed to leave the med lab."

"I know." He knows I don't like the med lab, so there's no need for me to provide a long winded explanation.

"What you got there?" Logan inquires nodding at the tin in my hands.

"Nothing." I mumble not able to look him distinctly in the eye.

"Marie…"

"Go away, Logan."

"No." He growls, appearing at my side and snatching the much guarded possession out of my grip.

I don't have the energy to fight him mentally or physically, so I stay seated utterly deflated as he opens the tin and removes the contents. His brow furrows as he gazes at the clear bag containing the assortment of drugs.

"Here." He remarks evenly, throwing the bag into my lap.

I blink twice and my jaw gapes open in surprise. Here I am waiting patiently for the onslaught to begin and he decides to dumbfound me with this mystifying reaction.

"Got anythin' to say?"

I fiddle with the bag and shake my head. No, I have nothing to say, nothing he would want to hear anyway. Logan and Bobby were right, I am a mess but I don't know how to make things right.

I look up at him in alarm as the tin crashes to the floor and Logan turns to leave.

"Where are you going?" I demand, springing to my feet.

"I'm done." He declares over his shoulder.

"But..."

"Do what you want, kid. You wanna fuck up your life, then fuck it up. I ain't gonna stand here and watch."

What does he mean, he won't leave again, will he?

The door slams shut and I sit back down in an attempt to compose myself. I think the time has come to make the decision. A decision that will affect how I live the rest of my life.

I loiter outside Logan's bedroom door, with an envelope clasped tightly in my hands attempting to gain the courage to walk in and confront him.

Ugh, this is ridiculous. He knows I've been standing here for the past ten minutes. That damn incredible hearing would have seen to that. Fuck it, I'm going in. No more avoiding this conversation. Four months is a long time to keep this under wraps. I haven't told a soul and look what's happened to me.

I take a deep breath in a half hearted effort to address my nerves and I open the door. Marching over the threshold with my head held high, I stare openly at his back.

Shit, this is going to be harder than I first thought. Logan is standing beside his bed stuffing clothes into a bag, not even pausing to look up and greet his visitor.

If I was a guy, I'd be demanding that I grow a pair, but I'm not. Which of course you knew and you didn't need me to remind you and... Oh, to hell with it.

"Logan?"

Okay, so he seems to be ignoring me and he's not folding any of his clean laundry.

"Look, just listen to me." Yeah, like he has a choice. "Remember that day in the Danger Room, you said if I ever needed to talk I should come find you? Well I'm here now and I need to talk."

Why is he still packing, did he not hear a word I just said?

"I know its taken me awhile," Now that is the understatement of the year. "I didn't want to bother anyone with my problems..."

This guy is going to listen to what I have to say, even if I have to knock him out and handcuff him to the bed. All in a nonsexual manner, that is. "Logan?" I shriek, stepping in front of him and grabbing his arm. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry!" And still nothing. He only stares blankly down at me.

Maybe it's too late. Have I finally driven away the one person I would consider my true family?

I need to show him that I'm willing to change and I do want to change. I don't like the person that I've become. I'm inconsiderate of others feelings, I'm sarcastic, rude, I'm a bitch and worst of all I have no respect for myself.

I dig furiously around in my pocket for the bag of drugs and I hope this works. I just can't believe the things that I'm willing to do for him. He raises an eyebrow as I flaunt the bag in front of his face and usher him into the bathroom. Without a seconds thought to the repercussions, I dump the contents into the toilet bowl and flush away my old life.

I really can't bare to stand here and witness my handy work. Those were my beautiful drugs.

"Here." I hand Logan the envelope. "If you still want to know what changed, read that." I walk to the door and rest my fingers on the handle. "I don't have the right to beg you to stay and don't worry, I won't. But if you decide you still care, you know where to find me." And with that rather emotionally mature speech made, I dart out of his room in desperate need of some fresh air.

"Johnny, what are you doing out here?"

My eyes automatically travel down to the large conspicuous bag at his feet.

"Thought I'd pay my respects." He replies, glancing at the graves of Jean, Scott and the Professor. "I could have saved him, I should have."

"What happened?"

I'm in two minds whether I want to know the details but nevertheless I stand here silently awaiting an answer.

"The mission," He sighs angrily. "I got separated from the others. He came back for me..."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was!" He shouts, clenching his fists. "That bullet was meant for me, it had my name on it, Rogue!"

Bobby and his heroics, why am I not surprised? I never thought it would cost him his life though.

"You don't have to leave." I urge, taking his hand in mine and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I need to get away from here. Maybe I'll travel the world, see what it has to offer. You understand, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." I agree, smiling sadly. "Just stay in touch, you hear."

"Sure." He replies, returning the smile and releasing my hand. "I'll send you a postcard."

"You'd better."

"See you around, Marie." Pyro smirks at me, walking away, bag in hand.

"I hope so." I whisper regretfully.

My whole world is changing and not for the better. Now I'm the only one left. Bobby, John and Marie… I should have fought harder to help my friends when they needed me.

"The kid needs to sort his head out, he'll be back."

Oh my God, I was expecting the gruff owner of that voice to be the next departure in my ever changing life, not the voice of reason.

"Logan, but you were leaving."

Shit, does that mean that he still cares then, even after everything I've put him through.

"Thought you wanted to talk?" He sighs in response. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You weren't here." I remark bitterly. I'm only stating the truth, I shouldn't have to sugar coat it at all. "Anyway, you had enough to deal with." I hint, standing alongside Jean Grey's final resting place.

"I could have helped."

"How?" I demand, crossing my arms to keep out the cold. "This is something I have to deal with alone."

"You ain't alone though." Logan growls. "If the cures failin'..."

"What, huh? What are the almighty X-Men going to do?"

Fucking hell, why does every conversation we have escalate into an argument. Someone please fetch the duct tape before I alienate the entire world.

"I thought that whack to the head knocked some sense into you." Logan pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply. "This ain't about the X-Men, Kid, it's about you."

My anger crumbles and I blink away the tears. "I'll be fine, Logan, I'm always fine."

"No, you ain't." He remarks with genuine concern.

"I am!"

"Pretendin' this ain't happenin', ignorin' the letter, that ain't considered copin', Marie..."

"I didn't ignore it!" I screech defensively.

"What, so you went to see the doctors then?" He snorts folding his arms.

"You know I didn't."

"Did you think they were sendin' the letter just for the fun of it?"

Fuck this fucking crap. I don't need to be lectured on my behaviour. I know I acted like an idiot.

"No, they were sending it to cover their own asses." I counter. "If the cures failing then I want to live my life to the full while I've still got the chance."

"You're makin' it sound like the end of the world." He responds gruffly.

"It is to me, Logan." I mutter miserably. "I just want to be normal."

"Kid, you are normal."

Yeah right, I'll never be able to live the life I dreamt about when I first took the cure.

"Come on, lets take this chat elsewhere. You're shiverin'."

"You're giving me a beer?" I comment in astonishment.

"It's been a rough night." Logan grunts sitting opposite me at the kitchen table.

"I'm sorry for what I said outside the cabin. I didn't mean it, any of it."

"Yeah, you did." He sighs, gulping half of his bottle of beer down in one swift action.

"I didn't..."

"Don't, just forget it."

I nod my head and take a sip from my bottle of Canadian beer.

"Why did you save me?" This is a question I've never dared ask him. What if he admits that he felt obligated or that I'm a nuisance.

"When?"

Oh, I guess he has saved me more than once, hasn't he.

"The first time, on the statue"

I begin to rip the label off the bottle, patiently waiting for his reaction.

A few minutes pass in sheer silence, I've knocked him for six. "Dunno." He responds cautiously. "Instinct, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Does it matter?" Logan challenges with an eyebrow.

"No, why would it." I reply dissatisfied.

"I made a promise, kid." He admits simply and there you have it, he felt obligated.

"Forget about that damn promise!" I cry, waving my arms in the air and instantly regretting it. My cuts still haven't healed and they never will if I carry on like this. "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to."

Logan watches me for a minute or two and his eyes narrow. "You were in my room earlier askin' me to stay."

"Yeah, but not if you feel obligated because of that stupid promise. I'm not going to hold you to that forever."

"It ain't your choice and I made it for a reason."

I take a leaf out of Logan's book and gulp the remainder of my beer down in a matter of seconds. "Are you only talking to me because of Storm?"

He gazes at me with that damn poker face of his but tonight I want everything out in the open. "The mentoring scheme, Logan, I know about it."

"I heard," He scoffs. "Ro' told me." I cock my head silently to the side urging him to carry on with his explanation. "No one makes me do anythin' I don't want to do, that answer your question?"

"Your turn." I encourage him. "Ask me a question, anything. It's only fair."

"Where did you go those nights you disappeared?"

Damn him, he means the nights I spent at Doug's apartment, doesn't he? That and the jail cell with the pretty graffiti. I shift in my seat and look around the room. "I'm going to need another drink to answer that question."

"One more, kid, that's all I'm offerin'."

"Fine," I concede standing and walking to the refrigerator. "But you can't get mad."

He doesn't reply, only watches me closely.

"Logan!"

"I ain't gonna get mad." He growls, already sounding angry.

"You see, I sort of got myself arrested." I murmur peering into the fridge and taking my ice cold beer.

"What the hell did you do?" Logan snarls pounding his adamantium fist on the table.

"You said you weren't going to get mad."

"I'm not mad!"

"Then why are you yelling at me?" I challenge sitting down and cracking open my bottle.

"I wasn't yellin'." He groans, refusing to make eye contact with me. "What did you do?"

"Some guy accused me of stealing."

"Did you?"

And here lies the problem. Okay, I just admitted that I wanted everything out in the open, but then again in some instances you should keep certain facts to yourself. Sometimes opening your mouth has consequences that far outreach your grasp, and I can't stomach another Danger Room session at the moment.

"Maybe, I don't know, I was drunk." I decided to go down the honesty route. You can't exactly lie to a man that owns a nose a blood hound would be proud to call their own.

"Marie..."

"I don't need the, you shouldn't steal speech, okay? I've learnt my lesson."

"You're tellin' me your ass got thrown in a cell for three days?" He questions finishing his beer and studying my face for any tell tale signs of a lie.

"Not exactly, no. I visited Doug for a few days."

"The dick with the drugs?"

"Kind of." I mumble, the bottle of beer hovering at my lips.

"Jesus," He mutters shaking his head.

"My turn. Why are you still here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I never figured you for the settling down type. There has to be a reason why you're still here." I watch him throw his empty bottle of beer in the trash and retrieve a new one.

"Ain't it obvious?" Logan announces. No, not to me it isn't. Jean Grey is the only reason that springs to mind. I shake my head as he sits himself down. "Kid, I don't do feelings."

"Don't go all shy on me." I moan, sipping my brew.

"Next question." He growls, refusing to discuss the previous topic. "How long you been doing that to your arms?"

I choke on a mouth full of beer and splutter incoherently into my hand. Fucking hell, what a question. "The truth?"

"The truth"

"A few months, I guess." I utter faintly.

"Why?" He demands, holding his beer in his hand.

"I don't know, my life was a mess and I didn't know what else to do. I can't explain it, it just happened and it felt right."

"What was goin' wrong with your life?"

That folks, is the sixty four million dollar question.

"After you left everything started to fall apart." I explain to him with teary eyes. "Then I spoke to my parents."

"Your parents?" He asks surprised, nursing his bottle of much loved beer.

"I rang them, it was stupid of me. They've disowned my butt and I'm not their daughter anymore, apparently."

I'm not upset, why would I be? I just want my parents to love me, but that's too much to ask. That doesn't really sadden me, it makes me fucking angry.

"They're idiots." Logan growls at me. "If they don't wanna know you, kid, then its their loss."

"Thanks." I whisper shyly through a watery smile.

He curtly nods his head and his attention is once again snared by his half drunken beer. "The mission, that note you left me. Where did you go?"

"You don't wanna hear about that." He sighs, sweeping a hand casually over his facial hair.

"Yeah, I do." I point out to him. "I want to know why you left me."

"Ro' called me, it was a dangerous mission, I volunteered." And now its my turn to raise an incredulous eyebrow. "There was a lab, they were testin' captured mutants. I had to infiltrate the place, gain intelligence, get out of there and hand it to the X-Men."

"And?" I know for definite there is more to this story then meets the eye.

"We were gonna surround the place, find a way in and release the mutants." He exhales finishing another beer in record time.

"But you didn't?"

"No, Ro' called me, she was worried about you and pissed at me."

"They went in alone, didn't they?" Oh God, oh God, oh God. "Without you."

"If I hadn't found you when I did, what the hell do you think would have happened?" He demands, tapping his fingers against the table and glaring at me.

I jump to my feet and begin pacing the kitchen floor. "It was my fault." I snivel, wiping the tears away angrily. "If you'd been there, he would still be alive, wouldn't he?" It's my fault, Bobby would never have died if I hadn't have decided to ring the mansion that afternoon. "He would, wouldn't he?"

"Don't..."

"Oh God, and I still hate him. He's lying down there dead and I hate him. I'm a monster." I whisper, tears cascading down my pale and scratched cheeks.

Logan steps towards me and pulls me into a bear hug. A hug that would have made all the difference in the world a few weeks ago, now it only compels me to cry harder.

"You ain't a monster, you're just human." He soothes me, resting his head on mine and brushing a hand though my hair.

I am a monster because I'm not only crying for the loss of Bobby but for my life too. I've lost my parents unconditional love once again, also my friends, my family and my shot at a normal life. When my mutation returns my dream husband will disappear as will the two point four children, the house with the picket white fence and the family dog. Why can't I be normal, does the world really hate me that much?

No, I remind myself. It's not all darkness and doom, I still have Logan. After everything I've done there is one person standing by me. This is the every cloud has a silver lining moment my mama was talking about.

I'll mourn Bobby's passing and I will rebuild my life however long it takes. Believe me when I say I'm going to be there every step of the way fighting, because life may be ugly now but I know with many positive changes and Logan at my side, I'm going to win. Ugly you ask? Ha, far from it, my life is going to be beautiful.