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Title: Follow Me
Author: Kari Jo - holly@members.limitless.org
Rating: G-PG, though it will probably get
higher as the story progresses.
Category: Angst, R/L, S/J, S/R, Six years
post-movie
Archive: Lists, else just ask. I'll say
yes. Really.
Feedback: Please, I beg of you, pretty, pretty
please! I know I'm horrible about feedback'ing, but please!?!
Series: I doubt it.
Summary: Follow me, everything is all right...
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, I
wouldn't be driving an '87 beat-up Chevy. And the song belongs to Uncle
Kracker.
Thanks: To Jenn, Mels, and ErinM who so
graciously offered to beta-read my ramblings. This would definitely not
be readable without you girls.
A/N: This started out as a challenge: what if
Scott was the bad guy that broke Rogue and Logan up? I have major S/R
tendencies here, so I had to do this. Also, this is my first WiP to be
posted in a long time. I used to do it, but they never seem to get
finished because no one really cares enough about them, and some were just
horribly, horribly bad. (Redwall fic...*shudder*) So...if you guys
care about what happens in this story...could you please, pretty, pretty please
with cherries and sugar on top, tell me? I do have another chapter
written, but it hasn't been totally beta'd yet. I'll hopefully be posting
a chapter every 2-3 days, but you may have to prod me once in a while.
A/N 2: This is NOT a songfic. I'm going
to use the lyrics to 'Follow Me' in it, but they are just to add to it, not the
reason for the story. I can write something other than a songfic.
http://www.limitless.org/~holly - Starry, Starry Night; my personal site
http://www.limitless.org/~holly/xmen/ - People Like Us; an XMMFF site
--
You don't
know how you met me,
You don't know why, you
can't turn around and say good-bye.
All you know is when
I'm with you I make you free...
- Uncle Kracker, 'Follow Me'
--
The small, oily mutant known as Toad lunged. His long tongue snaked out
toward the visor wrapped around Cyclops's head. The X-Man dodged quickly,
his momentum causing him to skid across the floor. He lay on his back,
fingertips near the side of his head, waiting.
He didn't have to wait long. The other man bounded toward him, intent on
the kill. Cyclops released a red ray of power at Toad, and watched the
smaller man fall to the ground, clutching a gaping hole in his midsection.
Across the room, Rogue battled Sabretooth. She attempted a roundhouse
kick to his head, but he caught her leg and flipped her over. Her head
smashed on the floor with a resounding crack. The force of the blow,
though enough to kill a normal person, drove Rogue's breath from her
lungs. She felt a vulnerability she hadn't known since absorbing and
killing Carol.
The hairy man grabbed her throat in his huge hand, and lifted her off the
ground, attempting to crush the life out of her. Her facilities still impaired
from her contact with the ground, she removed her left glove and reached for
his face. Blood vessels protruded from his shaggy skin as he slumped to
the ground, releasing her. She fell roughly to the tiled floor, breathing
heavily.
Cyclops stared at the lifeless form of Toad on the ground near his feet.
Glancing to the side, he noticed Rogue, her neck bruised and clothing torn,
crawling toward him. He reached a hand down to her to pull her up, and
she took it. A sharp jolt brought them back to reality as they realized
both their hands were bare. Rogue fell back to the floor and Scott
struggled to keep his balance.
Just then, a flash of blue caught Rogue's eye. "Scott!" she
screamed. Cyclops whirled around, still a little woozy, and clicked his
visor once, aiming for Mystique's torso.
Nothing happened.
"Computer! Stop program! Command zero, zero, zero,
zero!" Rogue's panicked voice shouted the command in an unusually
high octave.
Within seconds, the illusions faded, and the forms of Mystique, Sabretooth and
Toad were reduced to anamatronic skeletons. They too soon disappeared,
pulled into the wall by wires. Rogue moved quickly to Scott's side as he
struggled with his visor. His movements were slightly impaired from her
touch, and it took him longer than usual. Carefully, he opened his eyes.
"Oh my God," he murmured, as his naked eyes adjusted to the
world. For the first time in over a decade, he looked at the world
without glasses or a visor. He touched his face, running his fingers over
his eyes, as if to assure himself that he was really awake, and not dreaming.
Rogue stared in shock at her best friend and leader. "They're
blue," she whispered.
He looked at her. "Yeah. They're blue." His
unveiled eyes searched her face. "What happened?"
Rogue looked down at her hands, only one of which was gloved. "Ah
think...Ah think Ah borrowed your powers, just for a little bit, so...well, you
don't have 'em." She looked up at him.
Scott's voice was soft when he spoke next. "Then why...why aren't
you...well, why are your eyes normal?"
She shrugged, then averted her face. She focused on a point on the wall,
concentrating and squinting. She was rewarded with a beam of red
emanating from her optics. It struck the point, burning the area around
it black. She looked again at her friend. "It doesn't seem
very strong; Ah think you may be gettin' it back soon, if all of it was ever
really gone."
He nodded and slipped on his visor. Rogue looked at the covered face
before her. "Weren't you in a plane accident when you were
little? Maybe you hit your head."
Scott nodded. "Yeah, but I can't remember it very well at all.
I might have." Suddenly, he stiffened. He clicked his visor
once, and a beam of energy hit the far wall. "I felt it come
back. It was like something clicked back into place. Like a piece
of a puzzle." He stared at Rogue for a moment. "Thank
you."
Rogue smiled uncomfortably. "You really shouldn' thank me; Ah could
have killed you. Ah shouldn'ta been so careless--"
"But you didn't kill me, and I got to see without glasses for while.
I'm grateful for that, Rogue."
After a brief pause, she stood up. "They're prob'ly worried about
us." She walked to the door of the Danger room and reached for the
knob. She paused and turned around to look at Scott.
"Just...don't tell anyone, OK? Logan will have a cow when he gets
back, and the Professor and Jean will want to have a field day with mah
head. So, can we keep it just between us, at least for now?"
He nodded, and she walked out the door.
--
--
Her room was her sanctuary. Although she and Logan had lived
together in this room for almost three years, his clothes hanging in
the closet were the only evidence to the fact. Rogue sighed as she
caressed the bed that she too often slept in alone. He was in Canada
now, where he frequently went in search of his past. She told him he
should come home more often, and longer, but his need to know drove
him on. He was obsessed with finding out who he was, even though
sheŽd told him that she loved him anyway; she didnŽt care who heŽd
been before.
<<But I care, darlinŽ.>>
<<Let the past be, Logan. You need to live in the present and the
future. With me. What if...what if you find out that you have a
wife and kids? What about them? Would you tell them youŽre married
again?>>
<<Yes, IŽd tell them that. I love you, Marie. IŽll never leave you.
Not for anyone or anything.>>
<<Promise?>>
<<Yeah. I promise.>>
Tears had fallen unbidden during her side trip down memory lane. She
wiped them quickly away with her hand, and reached for a pen and
paper. Scooping piles of ungraded papers onto the floor, Rogue sat
at her desk. The pen held loosely in her bare left hand trembled
slightly as she tried to compose a letter to Logan.
Logan,
Miss you, sugar. Come home soon. And call me as soon as you get
this, OK? I really need to talk to you.
Love,
Marie
She placed her lips just below her signature, leaving her own scent
mixed with her strawberry lip gloss on the paper. After quickly
scribbling the schoolŽs phone number near the bottom of the
sheet--just in case he forgot--she slid it into an envelope and
addressed it. The PO box she sent it to was in Alberta, and Logan
checked it semi-frequently; it was the fastest way to get in touch
with him besides asking Charles to contact him.
Rogue sighed and placed the letter on top of her ŽoutŽ pile, most of
which, she realized, was now scattered on the carpet. She began to
pick the papers up and reorganize them: graded papers, tests, and
memos went in the ŽoutŽ pile; assignments to be graded went in the
ŽinŽ pile.
She considered finishing her work, but she was still too shook up
over the incident with Scott in the Danger Room to focus on English
Literature. She quickly pulled a new pair of gloves from a drawer
and slipped out into the hallway.
The main corridors were sparsely populated at this time of night, but
Rogue didnŽt want to encounter anyone. She walked softly down the
back stairway--at one time for servantŽs use only--and out the door.
The spring moon shone down on her, catching her platinum streaks in a
ray of ethereal light. It was still chilly enough for a heavy
jacket; for once she was grateful for the gloves she was forced to
wear.
A well worn path led her to the garden she and Ororo had so carefully
cultivated last fall. The flowers hadnŽt yet bloomed, but Rogue knew
it was only a matter of time; when the March winds changed to April
showers, the bulbs would send up shoots, the perennials would return,
and she would plant the minute annual seeds.
Shivering slightly as a breeze ruffled her hair, she thought of the
first time she had helped ŽRo with the garden. The fall after she
had arrived the older woman had asked her if sheŽd ever gardened.
<<Mah momma used to have a big flower garden. Ah loved it.>>
<<Then you shall help me with the planting this year. The professor
and I have decided our small flower plot needs to be expanded.>>
She knew theyŽd expanded it because of her. Something she could do,
something she could touch, without gloves. She had agreed, not
because she liked gardening, but because they cared. They loved her
and wanted to help her, to make her feel more at home. And she did.
She remembered the day Logan had come home. She had been digging up
daffodil bulbs and suddenly he was there. One year, no letters, no
phone calls, nothing, and then he just showed up and hugged her. He
told her heŽd found a few leads, but nothing concrete.
<<So youŽre leavinŽ again.>>
<<I have to, Marie. I have to know who did this to me, and why.>>
<<Why donŽt you just stay? For a little while at least.>>
<<I will.>>
<<How long?>>
<<The whole summer, kid.>>
He did. And then he left, for just two months this time. Each time
he came back, he brought her something: a postcard, a trinket, a pair
of silk gloves. Then finally, after two years, he didnŽt hand her
anything the day he returned.
SheŽd cried, thinking heŽd finally found his family and was just
waiting for a good time to tell her. To lead her on for two years,
making her think she was the only woman her cared about--the only
person he cared about--and then just drop her when a better offer
came along was cruel, even for the Wolverine.
Jubilee had yanked her out of bed early the next morning. Half
pushing, half dragging the semi-unconscious young woman to the dining
hall, she seated her in RogueŽs customary chair. All eyes were
focused expectantly on the doorway, as if they knew something she did
not.
Then Logan had entered, clean-shaven,--at least for him--scrubbed,
and dressed in a new pair of jeans and a nice button-down shirt.
HeŽd walked calmly to her, but his eyes had betrayed his anxiety.
<<Marie, IŽm sorry I made you cry. I wanted to surprise you, but I
didnŽt know youŽd take it that way. Can you forgive me?>>
<<Yeah. Ah forgive you, Logan.>>
<<Then...>> HeŽd paused, swallowing nervously. <<I love you,
Marie.
I want to be with you, and only you, forever. Will you marry me?>>
<<Yes, Logan, yes I will!>>
The feel of fresh tears on her cheek brought her back to the present.
LoganŽs frequent trips to Canada had driven a wedge between them;
each time he returned they were farther and farther apart, while she
and Scott had grown closer.
Rogue put her elbows on her knees and began massaging her temples.
Why was she thinking of Scott now? True, the two were good friends,
but... She shook her head, resolving not to think of it until
morning. Her head pounded after her crying jag, and trying to reason
out her messed up mind wasnŽt going to help. Silently she crept back
into the mansion and to her room where she crawled into the painfully
empty double bed.
--