Someone once told him that everything happened for a reason.

Frankly, he thought it was a bunch of bullshit. He had lived long enough to provide the evidence, lost too many loves with no reason behind it. So when people try to console him with those words, he couldn’t help but snarl in contempt. Jean didn’t ask for the powers bestowed upon her, it didn’t seem right that her death would result from them.

Her eyes haunted him from those final moments. All he could think of was what would never be. He only stayed at the school because of Rogue, the kid he all but adopted, and out of respect for Jean. This school was her life. He could feel her all around the grounds, her voice a faint whisper in his ear. He was mildly surprised he hadn’t gone insane yet but then again, perhaps he was already a bit insane. Living for as long as he did tended to do that you. He was haunted by many ghosts but her’s stood out the most.

There seemed to be no relief from her ghost. Not even when he slept.

But in the moments he spent with her, he could forget just for a little while…or at least pretend to.

***

Some would think her a fool.

She knows that the kisses do not belong to her, or the rough touches along her thighs. He never looks at her, because that would break the illusion. Ororo is not stupid. She is aware that he is using her to dull the pain, pain of a broken heart filled with guilt. Really, she is alright with that because in hindsight she is using him too. For the time that he consumes her, ravishing her body bringing her to the brink of mind-losing pleasure she doesn't think of her own ache. Her own heart holds the overwhelming sorrow her best friend’s passing not once, but twice as well as Xavier’s.

She only stays out of respect for Xavier. His words like a haunting melody telling her to preserve his legacy. So she does. She now runs the school keeping his dream alive. And alive it is, the school brimming with fresh, young new mutants who are grateful for some sense of normalcy. When she watches them without fear in their eyes of being called a ‘freak’ she is more than thankful to some higher power for giving her the will to continue on. It eases thing, just a little bit. Even older mutants are gravitating towards the school, filling positions of teachers or simply hanging around. They all formed a family, an unconventional one but a family nonetheless.

It’s at nights when the ache is the strongest, and it is then that she seeks relief in his arms.

***

He watches her more than she knows.  While he’s working on his bike near the garage she catches his eye out in the large yard. She is attentive to the students, strict but still loving. Unlike other adults, she talks to them as if they’re on equal footing but quietly commands respect that they’re all too willing to give to her.

While she appears to be recovering from the crippling loss of her best friend as well as her mentor, he is still haunted. It makes him envious that she is strong enough to push on and he is not. In a selfish way he wants her to suffer with him. Perhaps that’s why he takes her so roughly. If she cannot feel the pain internally than he would inflict it physically. The thoughts always make him guilty because though he was a bit rough around the edges he was not a terrible man. He doesn’t know why he chose her, they had never really been friends, and even the word teammate was a loose term.

It was possible that deep down he hoped she would lend him some of her strength.

Her gaze meets his from across the way. She’s more in tuned with her surrounding than he suspected. She smiles, it’s weary but sincere.

He wishes he had her strength

***

It’s hot, so very hot. She can’t feel temperature but she imagines this is what heat feels like.

She’s shoved against a wall, her back facing her attacker, not far from a room filled with students indulging in their preferred recreation. She knows there’s a possibility of being stumbled upon, but the idea only excites her more. She moans as he trails callous hands under her shirt and up her stomach to her breast. Rather than simply lifting the obstacle that is her bra he rips of the front of it. She finds she cares less than she should, especially when his hands reach her breast and begin stroking the hardening nipples. His mouth is on her neck, devouring it really as he alternates between sucking and biting. She can’t help but grind against him, taking delight at the strain against the front of his jeans already evident. His hands slip away from her breasts, much to her chagrin and come up to her arms.

She is spun around and met with a crushing meeting between their lips. His hand is in her hair now; he grips roughly and tilts her head back further to gain better access to her mouth. Their tongues are doing a nimble dance, each determined to outdo the other. A groan fills her mouth when she places her hand against his covered erection, rubbing roughly against the jean fabric. It’s enough to make her sex quiver and she can no longer wait. Her hands work with the quickness of a former thief, unbuckling his belt followed by his button and zipper before finally shoving his pants down to his thighs. He responds in with no hesitation, bunching her up skirt and grabbing her ass lifting her up to be even with his heat. She briefly wonders if he noticed she’s not wearing underwear, if he does he doesn’t say anything, then again he never does.

Then he’s inside in one brutal thrust. She bits her lip to keep her from crying out yet her body arches against him to take more. He pulls back then plunges in once more, always with force. She leans foreword and wraps her around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder to muffle her screams. She can see his face clearly, eyes and jaw clenched tightly as he imagines…She doesn’t think about it, forcing herself to focus on the pleasure and pain of their coupling.

“Logan…”

His name has never escaped her lips before and she fears the result of her slip. He rapidly speeds up, his fingers digging into her sides to keep her grounded as he thrusts into her more fiercely than he has ever done before. Faintly, as she is being brought to another climax, she hears low growl tremors in his chest. Then her vision explodes with bright white, somewhere outside the rumbling of thunder accompanies her orgasm. He’s not far behind, once, twice, and the growl rips from his mouth with one more violent jerk of his hips as he reaches his peak.

They both are gasping, trying to collect much needed oxygen. He removes his hands from her waist and she hisses feeling the already on coming bruises. The air is awkward now as he pulls out of her and hurriedly tucks himself back into his pants. She examines him as she fixes herself to be at least presentable enough to make it to her room. There’s a deep frown on his features, which while was a normal expression for him, she could see the underlining turmoil. She’s worried.

“Logan-“

He turns on his heel and leaves before she can say more.

And it’s over, she’s left alone. Suddenly it’s cold

She couldn’t feel temperature but she imagines this is what the bitter sting of cold feels like.

***

She had said his name.

It had made something in his stomach churn yet spurred him to continue on. Afterwards, he didn’t want to talk. He just needed to get away, needed to think. Things were becoming more complicated, which he should’ve suspected they would. The way she said his name revealed more to him than words could. Ororo was starting to feel something more; something he knew would result in her heart broken. Though the rules were never spoken aloud he thought they were clear.

He’s pacing back and forth in his room, a cigar dangling between his lips unlit. He ran his hand through his hair, a quickly forming habit he noticed he did whenever he tended to think too deeply about things.  He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just leave. It would save him the emotional trauma he tries to cut himself off to. Ororo was a good woman. She didn’t deserve to be used in such a manner. He should leave. But he doesn’t, and if he would be honest with himself he would admit that he scares the hell out of him because the longer he stays the more he begins to see Ororo as Ororo and not as a replacement for Jean.

***

“Mind in ‘nother place Stormy?”

She doesn’t jump in surprise. No, she has much more control than that. Or at least she thinks. Rather she calmly looks up to the source of the voice, her eyes meeting unusual black sclera and red iris. Despite her melancholy, she’s able to produce a small smile but it doesn’t seem to placate the man before her.

Remy Lebeau, codename Gambit, was one of her best friends. She has known him long before she has been apart of the X-men. It had been years since she had seen him but when she re-opened the school she had sought him out. Whether because she needs support or to keep him out of trouble she doesn’t know but she was pleased he had come. He takes smooth steps around her desk to take a seat on the desktop beside her. He makes no move to hide the frown on his handsome features gazing down at her curiously. She tries to meet his eyes but then drops it back down to the neglected test she’s suppose to be grading.

“Excuse me Remy. I just have a lot of things on my mind.”

She can feel him looking at her suspiciously but refuses to acknowledge it. Once again she attempts to grade the papers before her. Just because she was going through some mental turmoil didn’t mean the student’s grades had to suffer for it.  She doesn’t get the chance. Remy gently takes the hand holding the pen into his own. Silent urging her to look at him, she does against her will.

“Remy know you padnat, it be more than you lettin’ on.”

“I apologize, Remy. Some things I cannot tell even you.”

She knows this hurts him, there used to be no secrets between them but how could she hope to explain something even she herself didn’t understand. He releases her hand, only to bring it up to her head to begin to gently stroke her hair similar to the way he did when they were younger. She doesn’t mind, embraces it really because it helps calm the storm within herself. Her eyes close and she submits leaning against his frame. They sit in silence for a few moments. She can’t help but notice it’s the calmest she’s been for a long while.

“Yo’ know Remy always be here fo’you, chere. When you wan’ to talk.”

Ororo sighs in contentment.

“I know. Thank you, Remy.”

***

He watches from the cracked door. His body is stiff, unable to move despite his wishes. Beneath his skin, his claws are itching with lust to destroy something. It shouldn’t bother him. She wasn’t his, he wasn’t hers. But still he can’t help but grit his teeth watching the Cajun thread his dirty fingers through the white purity of her hair. And who was she to go running to the first man when he wasn’t around? He’d always thought she was more discriminating when it came to her choices. Even as he tries to think of her in a negative light it doesn’t detract from the real reason the whole thing makes his skin crawl.

 What bothers him the most is the fact that the whole scene just looks…right. The two fit, better than the two of them ever would he thinks. It’s now that he decides that he has been here long enough. No longer does he have a place here.

***

“Where are you going, Logan?”

It’s early. Last time he glanced at his watch it was a little past 4am. He intended on leaving early to avoid people and their questions. He should’ve known she was a morning person. He turns, keeping a hand on the bike to keep it from falling, to face her. This was especially what he wanted to avoid. She stands before him, clad only in a thin, white night grown that ends up above her knees. It hugs her curves lightly and he can see every firm muscle. It’s her eyes that get him though. She looks visibly distraught, something that’s rare for her. He cuts his eyes to the patch of grass by her feet to avoid her gaze.

“I don’t know. Away from here, maybe back to Canada.”

“I do not understand why. Rogue, the school needs you Logan.”  I need you.

“This ain’t for me, ‘Ro. Never has, never will be.”

“Is this about…us? Are you uncomfortable?”

This makes him pause. The raw emotion in her eyes stops the “yes” that lingers on the tip of his tongue. But maybe it was better if he said it, if he hurt her. He wasn’t good enough for her, too broken, too unstable. Even a goddess like herself couldn’t piece him back together and save him.

“No…it’s jest time to move on. You’ll be okay.”

They fall into silence. Neither able to voice their true thoughts. He hears the crunching of grass as she takes a step closer to him. This makes him look up at her, her lips set in a grim line and brows knitted into a frown.

“Did you ever see me?”

He’s confused. “What?”

“Did you ever see me, Logan? Me, and not Jean.”

“’Ro…”

She’s regressing before his eyes. Usually she stands with the pride of someone worshipped as a goddess. He always thought Ororo seemed a bit untouchable, a bit otherworldly. Now, however, he can see she’s just a woman. A woman who has dealt with a lot of pain in her life but never felt entitled to share. Unwilling to place her burdens on someone else. He sees someone who has insecurities, with walls built up almost as high as his own to protect themselves.

“I know I could never compare to Jean. But I-“

“Yer talkin’ crazy darlin’. I know you’re not Jean… It jus wouldn’ work. I’m damaged goods, you should’ have te deal with that.”

She’s closer now. If he reaches out he can touch her but he resists the urge. Her scent fills his nose. Something he always likes about Ororo was that she never felt the need for artificial scents. Somehow she always smelt like rain and dewy grass in the morning. She’s too close; it’s distracting him, weakening his resolve.

“Logan, I’ am the farthest from perfect despite popular belief. I’ am only human. The faults you have, I have learned long ago to deal with them. This is your home, your family. Please do not leave the school. Do not leave me…”

Her words seem to bring everything to a halt. As if time has stood still and was waiting for one of them to breath to start again. It has been a long time since he had been needed for a purpose other than destruction, even longer since someone looked at him with sincere affection. Then he looks around the grounds, taking in everything he would be leaving along with her. What did he have to look forward to out in the world other than hate? Constantly watching his back because of the untrustworthy people around him. Finally he meets her eyes again. Green eyes don’t stare back at him anymore, but blue. A most beautiful blue he felt stupid to have never noticed before. A decision was made.

“Okay. I’ll stay, ‘Ro.”

Her smile is brilliant, as though the clouds had parted on her command and lit up her face. It stirs something in him, a feeling of belonging. She initiates contact, reaching out unsure at first then grasping his hand. He looks down at their intertwined fingers, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. He felt more relaxed, more at ease than had ever been since Jean’s death. It was if she was unconsciously chasing the demons away. He regretted treating Ororo the way he had, trying to bring a dead woman back to life. But now he had all the time in the world to make things right. He was going to do things over.

“Thank you Logan.”

“Na darlin’. Thank you.”

                                                                                                                                                    ***

Someone had once told him that everything happened for a reason.

Maybe it wasn’t just a bunch of bull.