Logan stopped his nightly walk through the kids' hallway when he reached Rogue's door.
Nothing. No soft breathing. No pages of her newest, classic or romantic novel rustling as she raced to finish it. No sounds of a pen flying across paper as she wrote her daily entry in her diary.
Gratefully, however, there were no sobs either.
Either the kid was dead or she was playing a very intense game of statue. But who does things like that at midnight?
So he welcomed himself in. Fortunately she was not dead. He did not want to think about what he would do if he found her still, lifeless body lying on the-
But where was she?
Bobby cheated! He doesn't love me.
He can have kitty, if he wants her. They deserve each other.
Why am ah still unhappy ?Still alone? Still missin' that peace I thought ah'dget if ah took the cure. But the cure didn't work now did it?
Her thoughts had her walking slower and slower through the violent downpour coming from the storm clouds above. Eventually she came to a stop and looked up to the heavens.
There was no lightning, no thunder, only an endless releasing of rain from the clouds. The drops hit her cheeks, mingling with the tears she had thought she'd left behind months ago.
Her poisounous skin-her curse of a gift she often liked to call it- was back full force. She'd accidentally drained Storm when they had touched hands briefly while reaching for the same mug in the cupboard.
The rain poured down harder, faster still.
It was soothing, the feel of the fat raindrops plopping down onto her skin. Sliding down her check. Touching her without fear.
Because rain doesn't discriminate.
Rain doesn't need a family to support it
Rain is not a mutant.
Rain cannot feel pain.
Rain does not know what it's like to live through life unable to touch even the people it loves.
Rain doesn't have a boyfriend that sneaks off at night to share clandestine kisses with a girl that he's not even dating.
Rain can touch-and does touch-everything and anyone. And they accept rain as it is.
Some unknown force pulled her steady gaze away from the sky. Looking a little lower, but still upward, she saw Logan staring down at her questioningly.
She was Rogue. She was strong. She'd been through a heck of a lot more than just some dumb, hormonal teenage boy breaking up with her. So what if she couldn't touch anyone anymore. Maybe that was just what she was meant to be.
And if people could not accept her, why stay? She could leave. Maybe travel up to Anchorage. Maybe visit Kurt (wherever he was…). Maybe she would go back home, taking a side trip to Louisiana where she perhaps would find a charming, sexy Cajun to flirt with.
Or perhaps she would stay and stick it out. She was Rogue after all. Independent and brave. No more moody damsel in distress roles for her.
So her response to Logan's unspoken questioning was this; She shook her dripping wet hair away from her face, raised her chin defiantly, and gave him a smirk only a Southern Belle could pull off.
Logan gave her a grin in return. The kid was strong, even he had to admit it. He just hoped she realized that while she was out there being defiantly noble, she was in the process of catching pneumonia.
Oh well. Time to wake up the Ice Prick…