Title: Love Letters: Epilogue|
Fandom: X-Men (movie)
Summary: And it all goes right.
Series: Love Letters - http://www.diebin.com/xmen/loveletters.html
Disclaimer: Marvel and Fox. Bah Humbug.
Archive: If I've said yes before, I'll say yes again. If I haven't--ask me. I'm easy.
Author's Notes: I'm hiding. In Siberia. Don't try to track me down and kill me, I won't let you. Yes, I understand that this is a mean way to end a series. I'm sorry, I'm mean. :) But look, they're TOGETHER!
Rogue shivered, glancing at the hulking man walking beside her again. She had only vague memories of him from before--memories of him attacking her in Canada so many lifetimes ago that it didn't seem like it really had been her. Memories of him from the night at the Statue, growling and holding her too tightly as he shackled her into Erik's machine.
She had a few memories of him that seemed to come from Logan, memories of fighting, stabbing, hurting--all memories laced with insane anger and need.
She knew what the need was--it was the need to get to her. She could almost hear her own screams in Logan's memories, echoing viciously against her own memories of the entire night.
The hallway they'd been traveling down branched suddenly, leading off into several dark passageways. The man she knew only as Sabertooth said nothing, growling and grabbing her around the wrist as he swung a thick door open.
She didn't even notice the harsh shove that sent her stumbling inside, or the sound of the door grinding shut behind her. She didn't notice anything except the body that was curled up in the large bed in the corner.
He didn't look like himself. He looked almost broken, lying on his side with his legs drawn up and his arms curled protectively in front of him. He looked like a wounded animal, cornered and only a heartbeat away from lashing out at something.
Until he opened his eyes and saw her, and then he just looked defeated.
"No--" it was a soft whisper. His voice cracked on the simple word, and his face contorted in pain. "God no, Marie--you shouldn't have come."
His eyes slid shut, and she moved across the floor to kneel at the side of the bed, running a gloved hand along the side of his face. "Why--" Her voice choked at he winced back, and she stared at the open wounds in shock. "Why aren't you healing?"
Logan snarled softly, tilting his head up, and for the first time she saw the collar wrapped around his throat.
"What is it?" she asked softly, fear, revulsion--and hope--rising in her.
"Hurts like hell if I touch it," he muttered. "Shocks me if I try to get it off. But it stops--stops my powers."
"Oh." His eyes were still closed, so she reached down and ran a finger over the cold metal.
It shocked her slightly, even through the glove. She glanced to Logan, but he hadn't moved at all.
Gritting her teeth, she slid her hands around to the back of his neck and started fiddling at the latch, hissing at the pain as her arms nearly went numb.
His eyes shot open and his hands flew up to her arms, tightening around her elbows and trying to pull her hands away. "Don't you even think about it, Marie, or I'll--"
She let out a low moan of pain, but the clasp came undone and she yanked the collar away from him, tumbling backwards as his hands spasmed suddenly and he jerked on the bed.
Rogue stared at him in a mixture of shock and relief as he trembled, his skin seeming to almost crawl as it rushed to repair the damage done to it. She could hear his breathing, ragged with relief as the pain he'd been living in slowly faded.
And she knew, if she was going to do what she wanted to do, she had to do it before he recovered enough to stop her.
Taking one last look at the collar in her hands, she closed her eyes and slapped it around her neck, her breath leaving her in a ragged scream as her skin melted away and molten pain flowed through her veins where her blood had been.
And then she passed out.
"You fool. You silly, stupid little fool--if you don't wake up, I'm going to--oh god, Marie, just wake up."
Everything hurt. Rogue tried to open her eyes, but they hurt too. She tried to say something, but all she managed was a hollow groan.
She felt something on her forehead, something warm and soft and a little prickly, and wet, and it had been so long that she didn't understand at first that it was his mouth. That he was kissing her, and murmuring over and over, words that didn't make any sense.
"Logan?" It took all the energy in her body to get the word out. She couldn't remember where she was or what was going on--or why she hurt so badly and why there was someone touching her.
"Shh, don't talk," he whispered against her forehead. "You idiot, you never should have done that. That collar doesn't just block your gift, it drains you. It hurts you, you fool--and if I try to get it off you now it could kill you."
Her faint smile grew a little larger with every name he called her. He cared about her--he really cared, and he was scared, and for that she felt sorry . . . but he was touching her, and that seemed almost worth it.
But then she felt something warm and wet, something different, and she realized he was crying. "Why--" he whispered. "Why did you come here, Marie. Why did you--"
She wanted to raise her fingers to his lips and stop him from talking, but she couldn't find the energy. Instead she smiled, and titled her head towards where she thought his face was. It was getting easier to move, and she finally let her eyes slide open.
His eyes were hazel and beautiful and for once so full of emotion that they didn't look dead. She smiled, and tried to make him see how happy she was. "I promised I'd take care of ya," she whispered, and she thought it was funny that her drawl was back, and stronger than ever.
He smiled though his tears, and she felt strong arms wrap around her and hold her tight against him. "I thought it was the other way around, you little fool."
She was too tired to respond, so she just let her eyes close again and curled back into his arms.
She'd walked into her enemy's lair and laid herself at his feet--and she didn't even care. Because she had Logan and he was touching her and wrapped around her and he loved her, and all she could think as she went to sleep was that she was glad.
There would be no more letters.