Title: Settling In
Author: FyrDrakken
Email: fyrdrakken@juno.com
Rating: Call it a PG13, for lack of sex or violence, though the language might be coarse enough to earn an R rating for a movie.
Archive: WR list archive for sure, others just ask first and permission will no doubt be given!
Classification: Not rough enough for angst, not soft enough for foof, and no smut till the next story in line... Just call it generalized character development and background info.
Series: Sequel to "Drunken Musings," more to follow...
Disclaimer: The settings and characters belong to people and corporations making a lot more money than I do. The only "profit" I'm getting out of this is getting the demons out of my head without resorting to my family's traditional alcohol abuse, serial marriages and/or self- mutilation...
Feedback: Questions, comments and snide remarks will get *much* faster responses if sent to <FyrDrakken@juno.com>, me being "No mail" and as behind on the archive as I am! ;-)
Thanks: Due to all those whose feedback on "A Reasonable Compromise" provided the necessary inducement and encouragement to finish that monster *and* get off my duff and start posting this next thing. Also due to jenn, for betas and AIM encouragement...
Soundtrack and quotations: I've tried to find a quote to kick off each chapter that reasonably matches the mood or subject matter, some taken from song lyrics and others not. All songs quoted were chosen for lyrics first and foremost, and should *not* be taken as "soundtrack" indications. (Any attempts to create a soundtrack for this series based on songs quoted would be slightly misguided and in several cases disturbingly inappropriate. Anyone who actually listened to Tool's "jimmy" while reading "Drunken Musings" probably knows exactly what I mean! ;-D ) With that being said, A Perfect Circle's _Mer de Noms_ album remains *the* music of choice for my fic writing needs (and a kickass album all round)...
Note:
[ ] = thoughts
* * = emphasis
/ / = Rogue reliving a bit of borrowed memory
"threw you the obvious and you flew with it on your back a name in your
recollection down among a million same
difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed and passed over when i've
looked right through to see you naked and oblivious and you don't see
me..."
"3 libras," by A Perfect Circle
*****
It was a sign of how much Logan's presence had faded in her mind, that even the lovely Dr. Gray couldn't hold Marie's interest on a lecture covering the parts of the cell. She stared out the window, mesmerized by the green vista of the school's grounds, as always half-listening for the sound of an approaching motorcycle.
It didn't come, of course. Why would it? Just because he had promised — to take care of her, to return — didn't mean that he really would. In the first few days and weeks after he left, his voice had been strong in her head, assuring her that he would be back. He rarely made promises, but when he did he kept them.
[Oh, sure, just like he kept his promise to the Prof to stay here for a couple of days while ol' Chuckie found out what Magneto wanted... Hah!] Between Logan and Erik's influences, Rogue had become ever-so-slightly cynical over the past months. The faint trace of Wolverine that lingered in her head like a fading whiff of cigar smoke reminded her that he had broken his agreement with Xavier because he had been worried about *her*. [Maybe so, but he damn sure seems to pick and choose which promises he wants to keep.]
In the first few days after the Statue, while Logan remained comatose in Jean's Medlab, Marie had been vibrant with joy. Her life had been saved, she was safe in a place where she fit in with her fellow mutants, and a big bluff hard-drinking hard-fighting man who looked good enough to eat with his shirt off was so intensely interested in her wellbeing that he had repeatedly offered his own life up as a sacrifice to Fate in exchange for her own. Granted, he was in a coma now, but Jean assured her that he was recovering, and just as soon as he was up and around — well, then, they had laid one hell of a foundation to build from.
No one had told her that he was on his feet again, or she would have been down to see him in a heartbeat. So her only warning that things might not go as she had been hoping came with the sight of him heading for the door with a bag over one shoulder. She had gone after him in a near- panic, and been rewarded with a promise and his dogtag.
At the time, the Logan in her head had still been present enough to assure her that he *did* care for her, intensely, and that the tag he had given her really *was* important to him, and that his return could be counted on. But as the weeks passed with no sign from him, and his voice in her head faded, she remembered more and more the uncomfortable look on his face the last time they had spoken, and the way he hadn't wanted to meet her eyes. The adults around her smiled and exchanged glances whenever she mentioned Logan, and she had gotten the sense that they thought it was "cute" that she had gotten a little "crush" on the man who had saved her life, and that — maybe, just maybe — she was a little bit young for Wolverine.
Weeks had stretched into months, and the promise remained unkept. Logan's influence faded to the point where Jean no longer charmed her, and in point of fact that Mona Lisa smile that appeared on her face whenever Wolverine was mentioned had begun to irritate Marie no end. Rogue was beginning to come to the conclusion that Logan had chosen to sacrifice his dogtag as a way to save face while escaping an unwelcome obligation.
She still waited for his return, in a small hopeful corner of her mind. But the Rogue was cynically girding herself for a big disappointment.
Once again musing over the possible reasons he could have had for leaving, Marie absently ran her thumb down the inside of the rough chain the dogtag hung from, tuning out Jean's description of the form and function of the endoplasmic reticulum in the animal cell.