Reaching Out
Chapter 1: Arrivals & Departures
by
Catlover



DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Marvel owns the X-men lock, stock and barrel. I'm only using them for my sick purposes and them cleaning them off and placing them back on the shelf.

*Italics are thoughts.




It was four months ago today that Logan A.K.A. "Wolverine" returned to the mansion. Four months after returning from the abandoned medical facility. The complex in Canada had not answered any questions, only created more. Walking in the installation's dusty halls, Logan thought he felt a whisper of a memory but the moment vanished before he could discover and treasure it. Defeated and frustrated, Logan returned to the mansion. He tried to tell himself that it was because he had no where else to go, but, deep inside, in parts of his soul to which he rarely spoke and of which he hardly ever thought, Logan knew that he returned because he told her he would. Logan told himself over and over again that it was wrong to dream of a slip of a girl barely old enough to know herself, much less the workings of the heart, but he rationalized it by repeating to himself that dreams are outside a man's control. Besides, at least when he dreamt of Rogue, he wasn't having nightmares. No, these dreams were of a completely different nature. The dreams sometimes took place in exotic locales. Sometimes she was wearing silk, sometimes cotton, sometimes spandex. Still, Logan's dreams were strangely real. In his nighttime excursions, Logan gripped Rogue's arms, touching the silk of her long gloves, careful to avoid direct contact. The fact they never touched skin-to-skin in these fantasies did not lesson their erotic nature. In fact, the knowledge that one touch of flesh would activate Rogue's mutant power, leading to a coma or certain death, was dangerously exciting. Before waking, Logan always smiled from the sound of a satisfied Rogue. Upon waking, Logan always frowned from the obvious frustration in which these dreams always left him. Wrapping his hand around himself, a conscious Logan could never bring himself to imagine Rogue. Instead, he latched onto the vague memory of some all but forgotten, faceless woman.

It was just over a year ago when Logan left, promising to one-day return to retrieve his tags. As he walked out the door, Logan watched her grip those tags and knew she would wear them, probably close to her heart, against her skin. A place he could never be. He sought to forget her face in the harshness of the wilderness. He tried to force the memory of her from his mind as he struggled to take each step. It took him two months of hiking through the forest to reach the forsaken military base. He spent a week roaming its vacant walls before resigning himself to the fact that the place had nothing to offer him. On the return hike, Logan no longer had the strength to banish the memory of a round face with big, brown eyes and a head of rich brown hair containing a white streak. After reaching civilization, Logan tried to return to his previous life. He fought in a few tournaments. He found a place to stay. He lost himself in the welcoming embrace of a few brunettes he couldn't quite remember anymore. It took four months before the nightly dreams of Rogue's young body sliding against him spurred him to pack up his few belongings. Sixteen days later, Logan knocked on the front door of the mansion. Although he had hoped for a petite, brown-haired girl to greet him, Jean Grey, tall and redheaded, opened the door instead. She smiled slyly and assumed he returned for her and he allowed her to keep this false reality. Harmlessly flirting, he smiled a cocky grin and followed her inside. His room was still waiting for him Exactly as he left it. He sat on the bed and fell back into memories. The night he almost killed her. The night she almost killed him. The night he touched her for the first time. The night he realized he loved her. Yanking him from his reverie, movement in his peripheral gained his quick attention. Like a vision, Rogue stood in his doorway, the light bright behind her. She wore long red gloves and a short-sleeved, black velvet blouse with a pair of burgundy slacks. She cried out in happiness and ran over to him. Kneeling down, she threw her arms around him. Logan wrapped shaking arms around her and breathed in her scent. Smiling, Rogue pressed her forehead into Logan's plain, white T-shirt covered chest. Eventually, they parted. Rogue tucked an ivory piece of hair behind her ear and said, "I'm so glad you came back, Logan. I had begun to think you would never come back." Logan grabbed her hands and squeezed before replying. "Of course, I'm back. You can't get rid of me that easily." After a few moments, Logan pulled his hands away and fought the urge to blush. Patting the space on the bed beside him, Logan invited Rogue to sit beside him. As they sat together, Rogue told him about her training, her friends, her classes and various stray thoughts that managed to find their way into her head. Logan listened patiently through it all, watching her mouth move and contort with each sound. In response, Rogue blushed from all the attention. She rambled on and on, afraid that silence would break whatever spell had been cast over Logan. At first, she only glanced at him; worried he might see her heart in her eyes. After awhile, Rogue looked in Logan's dark, troubled eyes and stared dreamily at his rugged features. She longed to run her fingers through his thick, jet-black hair and almost cried because she couldn't. Suddenly, a knocking interrupted their conversation. Storm stood in the doorway, stoic as ever. Storm's long white-blond hair fell down her back and swung back and forth as she walked toward Logan and Rogue. Crossing her arms across her chest, Storm addressed Rogue. "I believe someone has class right now. Go on. You can see Logan when classes are over." Reluctantly, Rogue stood up and headed for the door. Just as she reached the door, Rogue stopped, turned around and pulled a chain from under her blouse. "I think these are what you said you would return for." Seeing the tags, Logan crossed the room, bringing himself to stand inches in front of Rogue. He touched the tags, running his thumb over the warm metal before placing them in Rogue's hand and closing her hand around them. "I want you to keep them, Marie," Logan whispered. Smiling brightly, Rogue nodded, tucked them away and turned, running to class. Logan smiled as he watched her leave until he heard the ominous clicking of Storm's heel against his hard wood floors.

Suspiciously, Storm crossed her arms over her chest and gripped her arms. She walked over to where Logan was standing, but Logan was gone by the time she arrived. He returned to the bed and pulled his bag open, emptying it. Logan could feel Storm looking at him. He could feel her questioning, accusatory eyes digging into him, judging him or was that just his guilty conscious. Storm approached Logan and watched as he mechanically put his clothes away. "It's cruel to encourage her little crush," claimed Storm. "Oh yeah?" Storm watched as Logan kept on arranging clothes and his few belongings. "If you give her time, then she'll probably move on to someone whose more her own age or, maybe, she'll realize what a mistake any relationship would be," Storm advised. Wolverine faltered for a second, but managed to spit out through gritted teeth: "Sure." Storm walked over to Logan's door and said, "It's quite sad, really. She'll never be able to have a normal relationship." Without looking at Storm, Logan responded, "I don't know about that." With shock splashed across her face, Storm faced Logan and stated, "Logan, a normal, physical relationship is simply impossible for her." Logan walked up to Storm, stopping when he was within a few inches of her and countered, "What's so great about being normal? None of us are normal and we're no worse off for it." Storm sighed loudly before continuing, "Of course, Logan, but things are a little different for her." "Oh yeah, why's that?" Storm explained, "Because Logan, Rogue will never be able to rise to the highest level of intimacy and that alone will destroy any relationship eventually." Logan returned to his unpacking and whispered, "Not necessarily." Storm looked at his tension filled body and shook her head. Silently, Storm left, closing the door behind her.

After Storm's departure, Logan tried to force her words from his mind but found that he couldn't. Although he didn't want them to, he found that her words were altering his perceptions and actions. Later when Rogue returned, Logan was far more aloof. He was kind, but not sweet. He was good company, but not attentive as he was before. Rogue left later that night, confused and shaken. All her hopes were dashed. He couldn't love me, she thought. She went into her bedroom and stood in front of her full-length mirror and slowly stripped. It was so nice to stand without being covered from head to toe. Hugging herself, Rogue could feel the tears run down her face. Why would someone love a person they can't touch?

* * * * *


Four months have passed since that night. Rogue still looks at Logan whenever he enters the room. She says a special prayer when he goes out on missions and greets each return with a tight embrace. Every night, Logan dreams of Rogue, waking with the name "Marie" still on his lips. They eat breakfast together, every morning. They spend some time each day together just having fun. At the mansion, the sight of them walking together through the halls is not an unfamiliar sight.



CHAPTERS:   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8




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