Over the Rainbow 3/?
Beta: Thank you jaq_of_spades!
Author’s Notes: No mailinglist yet and the site isn't updated either. Real life and all... it always fucks up my plans. *sighs*
But anyway, this scene was a bitch to write. I hate how Storm was so judging in X3 and I also hate that Rogue seemed so timid when she came back from the cure. In this scene, I’m trying to make sense of Rogue’s fear of returning. (Was it fear? Or was it just bad acting? Or maybe bad writing? Bad directing? IDK...). I’m also trying to turn Storm into the woman I want her to be. Also, look! Logan’s around! *g* Logan and Marie’s relationship seemed screwed up as well, but there will be lots of him eventually. I promise. But first we’re gonna fix Storm. Hopefully.
At the end of the corridor, just around the corner, lies the Professor’s former office. In there is the woman who’s going to decide where I’m going to live. Homeless versus the mansion. Is there a greater contrast? I know what I prefer.
Touching the wooden paneling with my bare hand, I tell myself to be prepared to leave if that’s the outcome. I have to admit, I can’t help but feel a stab of hatred when I think of someone having that much power over me. I secretly hate myself for letting them. I could’ve packed my stuff and be gone by now. It would have been my choice. Isn’t that better than patiently awaiting another person’s verdict? I never thought I’d be so meek. Submissive. It’s so - not Rogue.
But that’s because she’s cured.
Even though my stomach is in knots, I don’t falter once I start walking. I turn the corner, march straight into the open office and barge in - on a conversation between Miss Munroe and Logan, apparently.
Fuck.
Logan instantly looks up from his place on the windowsill and Miss Munroe follows his gaze, turning around in a desk chair I’ve never seen in this office before. It seems oddly out of place somehow.
“Rogue!” she calls out. “We’ve been worried about you.”
I hardly register her words, because all I see is him.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. Those eyes shouldn’t dart from my face to my bare hands, instantly taking in the situation and knowing what I’m about to say. Just one look and he instantly throws me off. I hate that.
Bracing myself for their response, I announce nervously, “I took the Cure.”
I’m not really sure what to fear more, her uncompromising piety or his heartfelt compassion, but I’m determined to stand my ground either way. Even I can hear the edge of rebellion in my own voice.
Miss Munroe opens her mouth, but Logan beats her to it.
“You okay?”
No! No no no. Don’t do this, damnit! Just a look, half a sentence, and there I go again. I’m reduced to being small and inadequate and just - awkward. I don’t know whether to love or hate him for it. I know he means well, but I just - can’t stand it.
“Fine.” I hastily rebuild my armor and deflect his unintentional assault. “You? I mean - I heard.”
I don’t really expect an answer, but he makes a face and I think - if Miss Munroe hadn’t been here, he actually might’ve caved. A little.
Miss Munroe isn’t aware of his non-verbal response though. She explains neutrally, “A lot has happened. We’re all shaken up.”
“I’m sorry,” I offer half-heartedly. “I should’ve been there.”
I try to come up with something more, something genuine, but Logan conveniently saves me again. He casts a look at Miss Munroe. “We done?”
It’s not really a question. He doesn’t wait for an answer, either. It takes his long legs three strides to reach the door, meanwhile meeting my eyes and holding them effortlessly. “I’ll be outside.”
With that, he’s gone, slamming the door behind him and leaving me alone with Miss Munroe, a faint, familiar aroma of cigars sneaking up to envelope me.
Right. Well, that was inspiring.
“Are you really okay?” Miss Munroe breaks my Logan-induced stupor and I focus again.
“Yeah,” I assure her. “I wanted this. It’s *my* choice.”
She sighs. Her shoulders slump a little and she looks tired all of a sudden.
“Rogue,” she starts, obviously searching for the right words. “I feel that I owe you an apology.”
Her smile is careful, and somewhat shamefaced, but I can’t help but cautiously sit this one out, because - what the--?!
“Jean’s death has taught me something,” she confesses flatly, leaning back in her chair. “It’s never easy for any of us, but Hank was right - I don’t shed on the furniture. I also don’t know what it’s like to live without the touch of another person for the rest of my life. I’m very sorry for judging you like I did.”
I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect this at all. I’m thoroughly impressed by the turn of events - I never expected she would actually get it, actually understand.
“I’m sorry, too,” I answer hastily. “For taking off like that.”
Okay, so it’s not as graceful as Miss Munroe, but at least I’m sincere now.
Her smile turns into a somewhat amused grin. “Yes, well, I’ll chalk that one up to a certain someone in your head.”
That makes me mirror her expression even though she’s dead wrong there. I’m perfectly capable of running all on my own.
“He’s gone now,” I tell her, not bothering to correct her. “They all are. The Cure got rid of that, too.”
“That’s - good news?” she asks attentively, and I nod.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is. It’s - empty now. Just me.”
“Good.”
We stare at each other for a moment, sort of smiling in a companionable silence, but then I remember why I’m here and my heart skips a beat.
“So,” I hedge, nervously biting my lip. “Do you want me to go?”
“What?” She jolts upright. “No! Of course not! You thought - oh, honey, no.”
I suddenly feel awkwardly emotional and she sees it. She walks around the desk, spreading her arms.
“Rogue, this is your home. It’ll always be your home. Always. Come here.”
Before I can protest or even instinctively pull away, I’m locked into a tight embrace. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been hugged tightly like this, especially by a woman, and my emotions begin to overwhelm me again. Her body is oddly soft and I smell her perfume, and I suddenly miss my mother like I’ve never missed her before.
“Better?” she asks after a while, trying to catch my eyes, but I sniffle a bit, looking down and fighting very hard to get my act together before I fall apart for real.
“Yeah.”
“Good.” She lets go and takes back a few steps, still smiling. “I’m really glad you’re back. I need all the help I can get.”
For a fleeting moment, I wonder if she would’ve hugged me if my skin was still lethal, but I hastily push all bitter thoughts aside and concentrate on practicalities again.
“What about the team?” I ask a bit self-consciously, knowing full-well that I’m not very useful anymore. I can’t borrow anyone’s gift, and without superpowers - well, I’m not exactly Rambo or anything.
Miss Munroe walks back to her seat but answers thoughtfully, “We still need a pilot.”
Again, this isn’t what I’d been expecting. I’d love to continue flying lessons.
“Cool.”
She smiles again and looks the clock. “It’s time to welcome the students and I think Logan’s waiting for you. Is there anything else?”
Even though I’m not sure if I should go and find Logan, I can take the not-so-subtle hint.
“No.”
“Okay.” She picks up a few papers, all businesslike and organized. “I’d like a meeting with the team at eight tonight. I hope you can make it?”
“Sure.” I nod a bit too enthusiastically, but I can’t help it. I can stay. I’m still on the team. I can still finish school and think about the future. I’m so thankful it makes me cringe, but goddamnit, I am ready to sing Hosannas.
I want to say something mature and confident and maybe even a bit careless, but all I can croak out is a shaky and grateful, “Thank you.”
I'm so fucking thankful I almost hate them for it.
TBC
Author’s Notes: No mailinglist yet and the site isn't updated either. Real life and all... it always fucks up my plans. *sighs*
But anyway, this scene was a bitch to write. I hate how Storm was so judging in X3 and I also hate that Rogue seemed so timid when she came back from the cure. In this scene, I’m trying to make sense of Rogue’s fear of returning. (Was it fear? Or was it just bad acting? Or maybe bad writing? Bad directing? IDK...). I’m also trying to turn Storm into the woman I want her to be. Also, look! Logan’s around! *g* Logan and Marie’s relationship seemed screwed up as well, but there will be lots of him eventually. I promise. But first we’re gonna fix Storm. Hopefully.
At the end of the corridor, just around the corner, lies the Professor’s former office. In there is the woman who’s going to decide where I’m going to live. Homeless versus the mansion. Is there a greater contrast? I know what I prefer.
Touching the wooden paneling with my bare hand, I tell myself to be prepared to leave if that’s the outcome. I have to admit, I can’t help but feel a stab of hatred when I think of someone having that much power over me. I secretly hate myself for letting them. I could’ve packed my stuff and be gone by now. It would have been my choice. Isn’t that better than patiently awaiting another person’s verdict? I never thought I’d be so meek. Submissive. It’s so - not Rogue.
But that’s because she’s cured.
Even though my stomach is in knots, I don’t falter once I start walking. I turn the corner, march straight into the open office and barge in - on a conversation between Miss Munroe and Logan, apparently.
Fuck.
Logan instantly looks up from his place on the windowsill and Miss Munroe follows his gaze, turning around in a desk chair I’ve never seen in this office before. It seems oddly out of place somehow.
“Rogue!” she calls out. “We’ve been worried about you.”
I hardly register her words, because all I see is him.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. Those eyes shouldn’t dart from my face to my bare hands, instantly taking in the situation and knowing what I’m about to say. Just one look and he instantly throws me off. I hate that.
Bracing myself for their response, I announce nervously, “I took the Cure.”
I’m not really sure what to fear more, her uncompromising piety or his heartfelt compassion, but I’m determined to stand my ground either way. Even I can hear the edge of rebellion in my own voice.
Miss Munroe opens her mouth, but Logan beats her to it.
“You okay?”
No! No no no. Don’t do this, damnit! Just a look, half a sentence, and there I go again. I’m reduced to being small and inadequate and just - awkward. I don’t know whether to love or hate him for it. I know he means well, but I just - can’t stand it.
“Fine.” I hastily rebuild my armor and deflect his unintentional assault. “You? I mean - I heard.”
I don’t really expect an answer, but he makes a face and I think - if Miss Munroe hadn’t been here, he actually might’ve caved. A little.
Miss Munroe isn’t aware of his non-verbal response though. She explains neutrally, “A lot has happened. We’re all shaken up.”
“I’m sorry,” I offer half-heartedly. “I should’ve been there.”
I try to come up with something more, something genuine, but Logan conveniently saves me again. He casts a look at Miss Munroe. “We done?”
It’s not really a question. He doesn’t wait for an answer, either. It takes his long legs three strides to reach the door, meanwhile meeting my eyes and holding them effortlessly. “I’ll be outside.”
With that, he’s gone, slamming the door behind him and leaving me alone with Miss Munroe, a faint, familiar aroma of cigars sneaking up to envelope me.
Right. Well, that was inspiring.
“Are you really okay?” Miss Munroe breaks my Logan-induced stupor and I focus again.
“Yeah,” I assure her. “I wanted this. It’s *my* choice.”
She sighs. Her shoulders slump a little and she looks tired all of a sudden.
“Rogue,” she starts, obviously searching for the right words. “I feel that I owe you an apology.”
Her smile is careful, and somewhat shamefaced, but I can’t help but cautiously sit this one out, because - what the--?!
“Jean’s death has taught me something,” she confesses flatly, leaning back in her chair. “It’s never easy for any of us, but Hank was right - I don’t shed on the furniture. I also don’t know what it’s like to live without the touch of another person for the rest of my life. I’m very sorry for judging you like I did.”
I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect this at all. I’m thoroughly impressed by the turn of events - I never expected she would actually get it, actually understand.
“I’m sorry, too,” I answer hastily. “For taking off like that.”
Okay, so it’s not as graceful as Miss Munroe, but at least I’m sincere now.
Her smile turns into a somewhat amused grin. “Yes, well, I’ll chalk that one up to a certain someone in your head.”
That makes me mirror her expression even though she’s dead wrong there. I’m perfectly capable of running all on my own.
“He’s gone now,” I tell her, not bothering to correct her. “They all are. The Cure got rid of that, too.”
“That’s - good news?” she asks attentively, and I nod.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is. It’s - empty now. Just me.”
“Good.”
We stare at each other for a moment, sort of smiling in a companionable silence, but then I remember why I’m here and my heart skips a beat.
“So,” I hedge, nervously biting my lip. “Do you want me to go?”
“What?” She jolts upright. “No! Of course not! You thought - oh, honey, no.”
I suddenly feel awkwardly emotional and she sees it. She walks around the desk, spreading her arms.
“Rogue, this is your home. It’ll always be your home. Always. Come here.”
Before I can protest or even instinctively pull away, I’m locked into a tight embrace. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been hugged tightly like this, especially by a woman, and my emotions begin to overwhelm me again. Her body is oddly soft and I smell her perfume, and I suddenly miss my mother like I’ve never missed her before.
“Better?” she asks after a while, trying to catch my eyes, but I sniffle a bit, looking down and fighting very hard to get my act together before I fall apart for real.
“Yeah.”
“Good.” She lets go and takes back a few steps, still smiling. “I’m really glad you’re back. I need all the help I can get.”
For a fleeting moment, I wonder if she would’ve hugged me if my skin was still lethal, but I hastily push all bitter thoughts aside and concentrate on practicalities again.
“What about the team?” I ask a bit self-consciously, knowing full-well that I’m not very useful anymore. I can’t borrow anyone’s gift, and without superpowers - well, I’m not exactly Rambo or anything.
Miss Munroe walks back to her seat but answers thoughtfully, “We still need a pilot.”
Again, this isn’t what I’d been expecting. I’d love to continue flying lessons.
“Cool.”
She smiles again and looks the clock. “It’s time to welcome the students and I think Logan’s waiting for you. Is there anything else?”
Even though I’m not sure if I should go and find Logan, I can take the not-so-subtle hint.
“No.”
“Okay.” She picks up a few papers, all businesslike and organized. “I’d like a meeting with the team at eight tonight. I hope you can make it?”
“Sure.” I nod a bit too enthusiastically, but I can’t help it. I can stay. I’m still on the team. I can still finish school and think about the future. I’m so thankful it makes me cringe, but goddamnit, I am ready to sing Hosannas.
I want to say something mature and confident and maybe even a bit careless, but all I can croak out is a shaky and grateful, “Thank you.”
I'm so fucking thankful I almost hate them for it.
TBC