Title: A Kiss before Dying 1/2
Author: Aletheia

E-mail: nerdlove@tpg.com.au
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse
Pairing: part 1 - Logan/Rogue, part 2- Scott/Logan
Rating: PG-13 for implied and character death
Disclaimer: Characters property of Stan Lee, Marvel and Fox. All this is
just fiction, so move along. nothing to see here.
A/N: Written in 45 minutes for the contrelamontre "unusual kisses"
challenge, first part of a two parter. First part doesn't really have
slashiness in it. :/ Sorry.


A KISS BEFORE DYING


She was at peace. She was gone. The last humanly remains of her they had
been able to salvage from beneath the rubble of the destroyed building had
been consigned to the dank, damp earth. Feverish attempts at resuscitation
had been futile. I could have told them that that was going to be the case.

She was gone. I knew it as soon as it happened.

Could I have saved her? I'd tried my best, I'd tried my hardest, but she
wouldn't let me die to save her. I should have been able to save her. The
knowledge that I could have given her enough time to last until our rescuers
arrived, and the knowledge that she had rejected my attempts to sacrifice
myself for her were going to drive me mad. But I couldn't stop thinking
about it.

I had tried desperately to shield her from the falling masonry. I had tried
to save her, tried to keep life, so precious, within the fragile shell of
her body. Urged her as we were trapped there in the bleeding darkness to
breathe, breathe for me.

Before the building had collapsed on us she had been little more than a
child, an innocent. Oh, with the events on Liberty Island and at Alkali Lake
she had grown up, but not in the way she had grown, trapped there in the
darkness. In the darkness, beneath the rubble she had matured into the wise
woman she would now never be. Wise beyond her years she knew that she wouldn
't survive this calamity that had been thrown at us, though she tried.

She tried for me, but even then that wasn't enough. She wouldn't take my
life from me so that she could live, no matter how much I begged her to.

My hands tightened convulsively on the edge of the coffin as I looked down
on her beautiful, peaceful face. In death she achieved that closeness that
she had never been able to have without grave danger in life. I reached out
a trembling hand and touched her smooth cheek.

It's strange - I don't remember her skin being this soft when we were
trapped beneath that collapsed building.

'Rogue!' I had instinctively grabbed her, swinging her out of the way of the
falling beam, throwing myself over her as we fell, the floor caving in
beneath our feet. It was probably what had initially saved us - the floor
giving way like that. I had felt the beam strike my back, ripping fabric and
scraping the flesh down to bone. But I didn't care about that - that was
secondary to making sure she was safe.

I tried, I really did. But even I couldn't have predicted that she would
have landed on that pile of fractured furniture. How could I? I didn't know
what was in the basement.

A broken piece of wood had pierced her abdomen, and in the combined space I
couldn't lift her off it. But I tried. I tried so hard - because I knew that
if I could just free her of it then I could give her my rapid healing and
she would survive.

However, I hadn't accounted for the masonry sealing us in. So I had to
resort to giving her of my life even though I knew her body couldn't repel
the foreign object the way my own could.

Half an hour into our ordeal she finally spoke of it. Of death. 'Logan, Ah'm
dying.' There was nothing but resignation in her voice.

'No, ya not, 'I responded fiercely. 'Ya gonna take as much of my - my healin
' factor as ya can take and you're gonna survive this.'

She coughed softly. It was a pitiful sound. 'No. If Ah'm gonna die here, Ah'
m not gonna take you with me.'

'Marie-'

'Ma names *Rogue*.' Even dying she still had that stubborn streak.

I shifted what little I could, the floor of the room above pressing down on
my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. I couldn't warn her.

'What are you doing, Logan?'

I didn't speak. I just pressed my lips against hers, and for a moment there
I could just savour the softness of her lips, the sweetness of her. I had
never desired her, never looked on her as anything more than someone I
looked out for. But at that moment she was a woman to me, desirable and
sweet. And then her deadly power went to work on me. It was like my life was
being leeched out my lips. It radiated through me, my nerve endings signing
with pain until she pulled away from me, gasping.

I could see her in the darkness. My eyesight gave me that - thought it was
blurred now, as weakness stole over me. She had turned her face away. Tears
glimmered on her face, but I don't think they were tears of pain. 'Ah wish
you didn't do that, Logan,' she said softly. There was steeliness in her
voice I had never noticed before. 'Ah don't want you to do that again.'

'But-'

'No!' I couldn't mistake the steel in her voice then for anything else. And
I couldn't go against her - I wouldn't - not unless I had to. I just hoped
that what she'd taken of me was enough to last her until help came. They
shouldn't be too long. They couldn't be.

But they were too long by what could only be ten minutes. I had passed out
at some stage - my weakened healing factor taxed by the effort of keeping me
alive, and from what I had given to Rogue so that she might live too. When I
had revived it had been to find that she was cold and lifeless beside me,
and no matter how hard I tried to in limited space to revive her - how much
I prayed to a God that I didn't believe in for her to retain enough life for
that uncanny mutant ability of hers to work, to take enough out of me so
that she might revive, it was to no avail. She was dead. She was gone. And I
was left there in the dark, cursing, crying, feeling angry at myself for
obeying her wishes and furious with life for stealing her away like that.

I felt a hand on my back and raised my head, memory falling away with dark
wings. Scott stood by my side. 'Are you ready, Logan?' he asked softly,
dropping his hand. After that moment of weakness on the jet after Jean's
death he never touched me for longer than necessary. I wondered why. My gaze
dropped down on Rogue's pale, peaceful face again.

'Scott-'

'You did what you could for her. Any more and it would be you there.'

'Better me than her.'

She was only young. Too young.

Yes, better me than her.

A KISS BEFORE DYING 2


I lingered up the back of the room, watching him as he stood by Rogue's
coffin. He just stood there, looking down on her, still as a statue. I had
no idea what he had gone through under that building with her. I knew
though, that I still had nightmares about pulling them out.

Strange.

It was those nightmares that replaced the ones of Jean's death.

My gaze drifted around the faces of the others of our kind who filled the
room. There was pure, unadulterated grief in every face, yet nothing could
match the pain that twisted Logan's face. I knew he blamed himself for her
death. Of all of us, he was the only one who had the mutant power that could
have saved her - if she was able to be saved. I also knew that he would have
sacrificed himself for her. A small part of me wished bitterly that he could
have. Another part was horrified and appalled by this. And there was a tiny
part of me that was glad he had survived - though not glad at the expense of
young Rogue's life.

'She's dead, she's dead, she's dead.' the words he had been chanting over
and over like mantra as Peter - the only one strong enough to lift him from
the rubble - carried him to the Blackbird. I had stood, precariously
balanced on the smashed up building, looking down on Rogue's broken form.

Once I had seen her I knew that no matter what he did for her she couldn't
have possibly survived. There was just too much damage, even for Logan's
stolen mutant power to heal. Apart from the spike of bloodstained wood that
protruded through her body, there was the blood that matted her hair, the
unnatural twist to both of her legs. I just hoped that when she had gone it
had been painlessly. Maybe it was a futile wish, but still.

Logan shuddered, hunching down, his hands tightening on the side of the
coffin.

I grieved for him as much as I did for her. With all the pair of them had
been through I knew that of all the people here - apart from Jean - Rogue
had been the only one that he had truly cared for.

And now she was gone too.

Would there be anything here to hold him? Or would he once more flee the
memories he couldn't stand to retreat to the snow-blasted wastes?

He reached out and touched her face, briefly. I couldn't bear to see this
anymore. I wanted to turn away, to leave that room, but the sight of his
grief, so genuine, captured me. Instead of walking away, I found my feet
carried me towards him, to his side.

I glanced down at her pretty face, untouched by the catastrophe that had
claimed her life and destroyed her body. She looked peaceful and calm. I
placed my hand lightly on Logan's back. I could feel his tautness and warmth
through the thick jacket he wore. 'Are you ready, Logan?' I asked him
softly, dropping my hand from its place on his back. I didn't want to - I
wanted to keep that contact with him. When I touched him I could feel his
pain, feel the humanity he wanted to hide from everyone - from me.

But I didn't, because I knew he would shrug me away as he had shrugged
everyone away who had tried to comfort his grief.

'Scott-' his voice was a low, pained rasp.

I knew what he was going to say. 'You did what you could for her. Any more
and it would be you there.' It was no consolation - we both knew that.

'Better me than her.' He turned to face me, his eyes glassy.

I could tell that it was through sheer willpower that he stood there as she
was buried in the small consecrated plot on the grounds of Professor Xavier'
s mansion. His hands were fisted at his side, and his face was stony. But he
didn't take his gaze from the dark hole in the ground even once. She was
buried next to the empty memorial to Jean. As the earth was replaced over
her coffin, I turned and placed my hand on Jean's headstone. 'Watch over
her, my love.' It was all I could do for Rogue. Wherever both of them were,
I hoped it was somewhere infinitely more pleasant that this earth where we
were persecuted for being different. My gaze lingered on the inscription on
Jena's headstone.

'Scott?'

I turned and stepped back with a soft gasp. He stood right by my side,
closer than I had expected.

'I didn't mean to scare ya.' he said gruffly.

'You didn't - I was-' I stammered before I stopped and pulled a face. 'How
are you feeling?'

He looked uncertain. It was the first time I had ever seen him like that.
'I - don't - know,' he said slowly. 'I just.' he swallowed convulsively.

It was then that I noticed how he was standing. All huddled in upon himself
like he was struggling to hold himself together. He probably was, too.

I knew what I had to do. I stepped forward, and wrapped my arms around him.
He stiffened for a moment before relaxing, and it was almost audible the way
he relaxed against me. I felt his breath warm on my neck. 'I kissed her, y'
know, before she died. I tried to make her take it all from me,' he mumbled.
'But she wouldn't let me. And I couldn't go against her. I loved her, y'
know. Not like. like. but I still loved her.'

I knew what he didn't say. 'Not like Jean,' I said.

He drew back and looked at me, and then at Jean's headstone. 'No, not like
Jeannie.' Once more he looked at me.

He looked so vulnerable it almost scared me. This was the big, tough
Wolverine we were talking about here. He didn't *do* weak. But I think that
it was that weakness that made me do what I did then.

I leant forward to cover the small distance between our mouths and kissed
him. Nothing undue, nothing passionate, just a temperate kiss into which I
pour all the reassurance I could manage. It was brief, but enough to convey
my message. I pulled back.

'I'm leaving,' he said, even as I spoke.

'We need you here.'

'We?' there was a flash of the old Logan there. Challenging.

I swallowed my substantial pride. He needed to hear this more than I needed
to wallow in it. 'I do. *I* need you here. Please. Stay?'

He nodded once and stepped back. 'Okay.' His gaze skipped from Rogue's grave
to Jean's headstone to my face. 'I'll stay. for you.'


END