Loading ...
Sorry, an error occurred while loading the content.

Fic: The Long Hard Road Out of Hell - 3/? [Rogue, Logan, others]

Expand Messages
  • victoria p.
    Disclaimers etc. in Part 1 indicates thoughts ~ ~ indicates telepathic conversation // // indicates memories The Long Hard Road Out of Hell Part 3 ***
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 3, 2001
      Disclaimers etc. in Part 1

      < > indicates thoughts
      ~ ~ indicates telepathic conversation
      // // indicates memories

      The Long Hard Road Out of Hell
      Part 3


      Rogue woke in the medlab early in the morning. No one was around yet. She
      looked down at herself and realized they were on to her.

      <Christ, you can't do anything right,> Calhoun taunted.

      <Fuck you,> she thought, gathering strength to resist from Logan and Erik.

      <I knew you'd come begging for more, bitch.>

      That sent her flying off the gurney with an anguished squeak. She had to
      keep quiet, so no one would know what she was doing. She pulled off the ugly
      blue hospital gown and wrapped it around her fist. Then she put her fist
      through the glass door on the cabinet holding Jean's medical equipment.

      Glass was better than metal, she thought. Cleaner, and without that smell.
      She found a shard she thought would do the trick. Logan and Erik both
      screamed at her not to, but she wanted it, wanted it more than even Calhoun.
      She just wanted the pain to end. She wanted to feel the clean, sharp edge
      slide through her flesh and watch the blood come pouring out.

      It wouldn't hurt at first. She knew that from the first two times.

      //"When they come out, does it hurt?" "Every time."//

      She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of his claws sliding through her
      chest, like a hot knife through butter. The Logan in her head hated that
      memory, hated the pain he'd caused -- that night, and later on, when he'd
      come back.

      Tears slid silently down her face as she remembered the last time she'd seen
      him, in the early hours before dawn, much like it was now. He'd had his bag
      over his shoulder again, and she thought she'd never see him again. Not
      after what had happened with Scott. And Jean.

      The betrayal was all the more hurtful because she'd finally found the
      courage to tell him of her feelings, and then she'd discovered the affair.
      The whole school had. It ended with Jean moving into her own room for a long
      time, and Logan moving out altogether.

      Rogue was the only one who missed him, even though she had him in her head.
      And she thought that maybe he'd miss her when she was gone. Maybe the
      professor would use Cerebro and tell him that Marie was dead. And maybe he'd
      actually care.

      <You know I care,> he said faintly. <Please don't do this.>

      <Survive at any cost,> Erik added, trying to goad her into anger, which
      would at least drive out despair. <Make them pay for what they did to you.>

      She ignored them and slid the glass up over her arm. She'd learned from the
      other times -- slitting your wrists was a slow way to die, and not a sure
      one. She opened the vein on her right arm from wrist to elbow, and had just
      transferred the shard of glass to her right hand when Scott burst in.

      He'd been unable to sleep for fear that she'd hurt herself, even though both
      Jean and the professor were monitoring her telepathically.

      He didn't see her at first, huddled naked on the floor. "Rogue?" His voice
      grew louder as his fears increased. "Rogue!"

      "Just leave me alone," she cried thickly, her voice not working quite right.

      "Oh, God," he breathed, taking in the sight of her. "Oh, God, no. Please
      no." He bent down and cursed the t-shirt he was wearing. "Shit, shit, shit."
      ~Jean! Professor! Help! Down in the medlab.~ He continued to shout mentally
      as he grabbed the sheet off the gurney, wrapped it around her and lifted her
      onto the table. "Rogue, please, say something."

      "Let me go," she whispered. "There's nothing for me here, anyway." He
      wrestled with her for the shard. It fell to the floor and shattered as Jean
      and Ororo entered the lab.

      "Goddess," Ororo gasped as Jean went immediately into doctor mode.

      Scott stumbled back, staring at the blood on the floor and then the girl on
      the gurney. His decision was made.


      Just because he couldn't use Cerebro, didn't mean he couldn't find what-- or
      in this case, who -- he was looking for.

      While everyone was occupied with the emergency in the medlab, Scott made his
      way to Xavier's office.

      He knew that Logan had been in touch with the professor in the years he'd
      been gone and he was pretty sure where the latest communication from the
      Canadian was kept. There it was, tucked away in the folder labeled "Canadian
      Contacts" in Xavier's right-hand file drawer -- an address for Logan dated a
      week ago. He dialed information and got the number for the Crescent Park
      Motel in Moose Jaw.

      Calling the place, he asked for Logan and was immediately connected; he hung
      up without waiting for the other man to answer. He went to his room, packed
      a light bag and headed down to the hangar.

      He was gone before they realized he'd left.


      He arrived at the door of the Crescent Park Motel in Moose Jaw three hours
      later, shortly after six am local time. He saw the bike they'd built
      together parked outside room thirteen, and he whispered a silent prayer that
      the man was alone. He jimmied the lock and let his eyes adjust to the
      darkness. He knew his presence would not go unnoticed for long.




      “That’s one more kid who’ll never get to go to school / Never get to fall in
      love / Never get to be cool” – “Rockin’ in the Free World” – Neil Young


      The Muse's Fool - http://victoria_jp.tripod.com/home.htm
    Your message has been successfully submitted and would be delivered to recipients shortly.