Title: I've Got you
Timeline: during X2
Disclaimer: They're not mine- I'm a poor and having fun... take pity...
Distribution: my site, WRFA, anywhere else please ask first :)
Summary: "It's almost as if she' knows this will end badly. Perhaps they're destined to be haunted by seatbelt safety their entire lives. The absurdity of that hits him in his next breath and he smiles at her." What would have happened if the airplane scene in X2 where Kurt rescues Rogue happened differently. AU scene re-write.
Author's notes: Rewatching X-2 to gear up for X3, I wondered why Rogue would sit in panicked silence while she couldn't get her seat belt on... she is obviously a stickler for safety as seen in X1, so why? What if she didn't suffer in silence?
Feedback PLEASE at: I love anything constructive! Blatant flames, however, will be disregarded and used to roast s'mores...
The Blackbird banked back and forth, and Rogue scrambled to buckle the seatbelt. It was only the third time ever that she'd sat in the Blackbird while it was in the air and moving. The first time she'd been so out of it with fear and confusion after Sabertooth's attack that Storm had buckled her in. The second time, after Liberty Island, she'd attached herself to Logan's side in the back of the plane, Jean shoving her into a jump seat that fastened with a buckle she was more familiar with, as she held Logan's lax hand in her sleeve covered one.
She looked at the four ends of the buckle she was attempting now in utter horror as the plane jostled and tornados appeared around them. The metal shook in her hands as she shoved the pieces at each other. They weren't connecting. There was no tell-tale click as they slid home. They slipped too easily from unfamiliar gloves that were just this side of too large for her. The pieces dropped to her lap as her panic rose.
"We're ok, kid."
"Just hang on. Jean and 'Ro will get us out of this..." The calm in his voice was artificial. She could tell. There was no way he really believed that, no way he enjoyed the rocking motion that he was not in control of, no way that he could be so calm when we were being hunted down ruthlessly.
"I can't.. My seatbelt..." He must have heard the panic in her voice, the underlying timber of hysterics that reminded him about the last time they'd talked about seatbelt safety. His eyes were visible for only a second, his brow raised at an angle over the curved seat, eyes taking in her panic as she tried forcing the pieces of the seatbelt together and failing.
It took less than a second for him to pop the clasp on his own harness, twisting in the seat as he did, before he was kneeling on the chair and facing her.
"Breathe, Kid..." Logan tried to keep the panic out of his voice and focus completely on Rogue, but he could still hear the alarms going off in the cockpit. He could hear Jean and Storm talking, planning, and barely avoiding panic as they flew through the tornados when he heard that a missile had locked on to them.
"Lo..Lo..." She's so breathless that she can't get his name out. Her eyes locked onto his, the desperation and terror in them nothing he's ever seen on her face before, and for a heart beat he stops dead, his hands each holding a piece of her seatbelt. It's almost as if she' knows this will end badly. Perhaps they're destined to be haunted by seatbelt safety their entire lives. The absurdity of that hits him in his next breath and he smiles at her, cocking his head.
"I don't need lectures on seatbelt safety from you, Kid..." His attempt at levity forces a clipped laugh from her, drowned out to everyone else by the sound of a missile exploding in mid-air. Rogue dropped the pieces of seatbelt and grabbed Logan's wrists, a smile forming then quickly dying as the Blackbird banked sharply.
When the explosion hit her eyes went wide. Sound ceased as air rushed out of the pressurized cabin, pulling anything not strapped down, including Rogue, with it.
Logan's hands locked around her wrists as she screamed, the terror back in her eyes. He slammed against the back of his seat, the weight of his metal-enhanced bones and the bulk of his body initially holding him in. Rogue's body flung back, her arms jerking in their sockets as Logan held tight.
He wanted to laugh. They were going to be plagued by seatbelt safety after all. Her head snapped up to his, and though he was vaguely aware of the people around him, he couldn't tare his gaze away as she tried to say his name. It came out as a squeak from the lack of air in her lungs and the rebellion of her vocal cords. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know, though.
He couldn't readjust his grip without letting go, and if he let go, she'd fly out of the smoking hole at the back of the plane.
"Rogue!" His head snapped to the side as Bobby's voice registered. The boy was scared, looking between his girlfriend and Logan frantically, hoping to save her life by sheer willpower.
"Push on her feet!" Logan yelled, his eyes snapping back to Rogue's. He'd save her, he would.
"PUSH on her FEET!" Logan screamed the words over the roar of the wind and alarms, the downward spiral of the plane throwing his balance off. He'd have to be fast and he'd have to be right if this was going to work.
His eyes searched out the teenage boy, and watched as he tried to grab Rogue's dangling feet. He'd barely been able to grab one, but easily grabbed the other. The second Logan felt pressure he swung his right arm in. Rogue began to fall closer to him, and he let go with his left hand, grabbing for her waist and catching her t-shirt. Bare skin made contact for a second in the shift as he pulled and twisted with all his might.
Once the momentum changed, Rogue catapulted into his arms as he flipped in the seat. He kicked his legs out, the bottom of his boots wedging firmly against the back of Storm's chair and pushing him back into his seat. He wrapped both arms tightly around her back, and hers wrapped all the way around the back of the seat as she shifted in his lap, her legs wrapping around to the back of the seat as well, grounding herself the best she could.
Her head burrowed in his chest as her breath caught in heaving sobs. She tried to form words of thanks, but couldn't. Logan's hand tangled in her hair, holding her to him and burying her exposed face in his covered shoulder. "I've got you," he whispered fervently. "I've got you."
Their descent slowed and the plane seemed to knit itself together like Logan's skin. Even when they came to a smooth stop still feet off the ground the two didn't look at anyone.
Everyone was looking at them.
Magneto and Mystique watched as the X-Men disembarked, and the old man stared at Jean, puzzled. "I know Wolverine's still on the plane... and young Rogue, as well. I've already told you we're just here to talk. No need to try to plan a sneak attack."
Jean sighed. "They need a few minutes. Not like Logan could be much of a weapon against you, anyway. Wouldn't be much of a sneak attack on our part, would it?"
Magneto bowed slightly, gesturing the way to the clearing he'd commandeered. "As long as we have an understanding, my dear."
They hadn't moved. The team's attempt at prying them apart was met with a fearl growl and a terrified keening. They stopped trying after Logan popped a set of claws on one hand.
"I've got you." He'd been whispering it over and over to her since they'd found this position. At any other time, it might have been erotic: the tangling of their limbs, the adrenaline coursing through their veins, the way their hips lined up perfectly and the pressure her legs crated as the wound around him...
But she'd almost died, and he almost had been helpless.
"I don't want to move."
"You don't have to, Darlin'."
"I almost died."
"I won't let that happen."
"Thank you, Logan." She tried lifting her head, but he kept it tucked securely beneath his chin. "Thank you."
"Don't... don't. I'll always... I will." There were no words for what he was feeling. He had no way of describing the turmoil, fear, relief...except for the only three words that came out over and over again, "I've got you."