Summary: She stands as a silent observer. Character death.
Category: Romance, Angst.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the series. They're owned by Marvel or by Joss Whedon.
Archive: DDFH, WRFA and anywhere that would accept this, with prior notification.
Feedback: Please give feedback. I love any kind of feedback
Spoilers/Continuity: Crossover Alternate Universe. First part in what I would call The "P" Series.
Author's Note: The best of thanks to Devil Doll for helping me beta an earlier draft. This use to be a one shot known as The Price, but now with inspiration and itching from my head, I've decided to make this story into a series and changed the title. Now greatest hugs and kisses of thanks to my newest beta LucyJekyll.
What a price she paid.
There was a grand funeral for her…but did anyone realize the sacrifice she committed in trying to cure herself, giving up her body for something that she regretted?
Instead of being a life participant, she became a silent observer.
This wasn't the best solution she wanted. When Spike had come offering her an opportunity, she took it, not knowing what the result would imply. Granted, she regained the ability to touch but paid for it with the burden of bestowing upon others a different touch.
The hunger grew inside her, and she knew that she must leave until the next full moon.
Her eyes stared with pain at the man she would never have.
In life, she had desired him, had thought that if she regained the ability to touch, she would have him. Since then, she has realized that will never happen.
The moonlight glinted off of her teeth as she bit down on her own lip, drawing stolen blood.
From a distance, he still looked the same as he had when she'd fallen in love with him, but on closer examination and with the assistance of her enhanced vision, there were signs of gauntness.
That worried her a little. The Wolverine shouldn't be losing any weight.
She could go to him only in his dreams, and she didn't like the thought of going that route. Logan was a very private man and wouldn't like to be disturbed.
She decided to wait for the next full moon. If she didn't notice any change by then, she would have to go to him.
Time passed, and the season slowly grew colder in the Westchester region. The individual formerly known as Rogue came back to her old habitat.
Any observer would notice the change in her appearance. She no longer wore gloves. Instead, she wore a skin-baring outfit, showing as much as was decent. To others, it might be two-bit hooker garb, but Rogue somehow wore the outfit with an ethereal ease.
She no longer felt the extremes of the seasons. Her once rosy skin was deadly pale, and she relied on rouge to provide the illusion of health.
She had become a true hunter of the night, no longer able to see the sun. This was the price she paid when she sacrificed her body to become a vampire.
But for now her only concern was checking up on Logan. He was the one thing that she wasn't able to leave when she became a vampire. Somehow, some way or another, she always came back to check up on him.
The years had been kind to the place known as Xavier's Institute. With the government no longer on their backs, Xavier's had prospered.
Jean and Scott had gotten married. Ororo and Xavier were companions for life. All her old friends had gotten married or settled into their lives.
Remy, for example, was with Jubilee, and they made a great couple. Kitty and Bobby had realized their need for each other as well—the human ice and the shadow, destined for one another in their own way.
The only one who hadn't changed was Logan. When she'd been alive, she hadn't realized the depth of his devotion to her.
She didn't think anyone, much less the Wolverine himself, knew that he had more than fraternal feelings for her.
Quickly, she stole onto the patio off Logan's room and looked cautiously inside. The sight of Logan tossing and turning in a nightmare made her reel back a little. She didn't know why he was having nightmares this particular night, but thinking to soothe the man she loved, Rogue quickly willed herself to be invisible. She crept next to him and laid a cool hand on his sweating forehead.
But just as she laid her hand upon the Wolverine's forehead, his eyes snapped open, and he awoke. He struck out with his claws; they impacted on her flesh.
Gasping in pain, Rogue pulled back, and her pierced flesh instantly healed itself, sealing off the needed blood. She nearly fell to the floor but righted herself instantly, knowing that she had to get out of the room.
Silently, she sneaked around Wolverine and left. What she didn't realize was that although she had enhanced healing, some of the blood from her wound had dripped to the floor.
Even in the depth of his nightmare, Logan felt the presence in the room and the cool hand that touched his forehead. His eyes snapped open, and he awoke, striking out with his claws. His eyes told him there was nothing there, but he felt his claws connect with something. He knew someone was in the room with him.
He growled as his instincts told him that the prey had escaped. He knew he had hurt it—he could see the blood on the floor. But what was it? And why was it in his room?
Lowering himself to the floor, he sniffed at the blood, puzzled. It had the decaying smell of death on a pig's carcass. Why would pig's blood be on the floor?
But then he smelled another scent, so faint it felt as if he had dreamt it. It was the same scent that Marie had worn, the sweet vanilla fragrance that he hadn't smelled in a long time.
After she died, he had shunned everything that reminded him of her. That scent shouldn't be in his room, so why now...why this scent...?
Letting out a great roar, he turned around and angrily pounded the nearest wall, breaking through the wood and creating a splintered hole.
Outside the window, Rogue realized the evidence she had left behind. Though her pierced flesh had instantly healed itself and she had fled the room as quickly as she could, she had left blood behind. And Logan knew she had been there.
She cried silent blood tears as she was drawn to the agony of the man. She didn't want to be a participant…she was an observer.
That was the price she paid.
Sensing Spike nearby, she stole back into the darkness, following the vampire in compliance.