howmanylives | [for Rogue]

Entry tags:

jamie madrox,
rogue

[for Rogue]

Nearly five years and countless disappearances later, and one thing still held true for Jamie Madrox: Rogue was the best and closest friend he’d made on the Island.

(Layla, of course, was in a league all on her own.)

So when he needed someone to talk to who wasn’t a voice in his head, Rogue was at the top of Jamie’s list. Weeks later and he was still wrestling with his and Layla’s decision to start trying for kids — or, at least, to stop actively avoiding having kids. He needed an outsider’s perspective, someone without any stake in the matter to give him some reassurance that they weren’t being extraordinarily stupid.

He knocked on the door of her hut, and called out, “Anybody home?”

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"Always," Rogue said, rolling onto her stomach and pushing herself up to her feet.

"Thirsty? Don't got much- beer, water, coconut water."

"Water's fine," he said, slower to stand.

"So what have you been up to lately, anyhow?" he added, eying the guitar for a moment. "Other than making inroads towards your induction into the Tabula Rasa Country Hall of Fame?"

She considered how to answer as she poured Jamie a glass of cold water, and then herself one. There were a lot of easy answers, noncommittal answers. She pursed her lips as she mulled them over.

"Gambit's back," she said instead of any of them, and put the carafe of water down as casually as possible.

Given that Rogue didn't look particularly happy about this development, Jamie gauged his reaction accordingly.

"...yeah?"

The tone of a good friend testing the water. She lifted their glasses and sauntered back over, offering him his.

"Yeah. Showed up in Vegas, bold as you please. He's from a ways ahead."

Jamie accepted the glass, taking a sip. Talking about Gambit was like navigating a minefield.

"Learn anything interesting?"

"About home? Not much, we didn't get into it," she answered, taking a perch on the edge of her couch.

"It was a little jarring, for the both of us. He knows my real name. Which means everyone back home probably knows it, at some point. I can't wrap my head around it." She took a sip from her glass, looking slightly put out by the idea and shrugged a little.

"And here I thought Rogue was your real name," said Jamie, teasing her a little if only to lighten up the tone of the room.

He took a seat on the couch proper, angling his body to face her. "So what did you get into?"

She shook her head a little as though to imply not much, but it went on a few moments too long as she felt her throat constrict, and after another moment of pressing her lips into a tight line until she knew she would keep it together, the words, "He doesn't want me," managed to slip out of her mouth.

"He, um." She cleared her throat and tucked her knuckles briefly against her lips then anchored both hands around her water glass.

"Doesn't. Want to be with me. So." She almost giggled, a hollow, laughter-like breath hiccuping out of her and she flashed Jamie a too-bright smile.

"Ain't that a kick in the head?"

Jamie never did well with tears, but he wasn't completely useless. Setting his glass down, he scooted closer and put a hand on her back, sliding it up to her shoulder to give her a one-armed hug.

"Hey," he murmured, sticking close. He pushed down an instinctive flash of irritation towards Gambit, but there was no telling what reasons the guy had for turning Rogue down without asking Gambit himself.

Jamie pressed a kiss to Rogue's temple and spoke against her skin. "It's his loss, okay?"

"It's not," she said, forcing the words to come out instead of a torrent of petulant tears.

"He doesn't- owe me anything, he isn't obligated to, to feel anything for me at all, it's just." She told herself they were petulant. They were just the reaction to her being frustrated at not being able to have something she wanted. She told herself that because it was less self indulgent than thinking about being something like heartbroken.

"Um. Disappointing." She dragged the knuckle of her thumb across one eye than the other.

"And he cares about me, he wasn't trying to hurt me or anything. It's just. Um. I'm still-" She pulled in and let out a shaky breath and didn't say In love with him.

"And he- isn't. So. I'll just. Deal with it."

He suddenly felt like an ass for coming here with his problems, given the circumstances, but Jamie kept his focus on her.

"You're allowed to be upset."

"Well, good, because, clearly," she said, lamely forcing a smile, another sob shifting into a nervous shiver of a laugh. She drew one knee up to her chest and leaned into him.

"I just feel stupid. That's all. Well, and- knowing he's here, but not... being with him, that hurts. So, stupid and hurt. It's no way to go through life, Jamie, I'll tell you that much."

"Well, no one said anything about going through life like that," he said carefully. "But a few weeks, jeez, I'd say that's understandable."

"No one said it but it feels like I end up that way more'n I should," she mumbled. She closed her eyes and let her head rest on his shoulder, taking a few deep, calming breaths.

"Sorry," she said eventually, "haven't talked about it to anyone since he showed up, guess that was... gonna happen when I tried. Lucky you."

"No apologies necessary," he said, absently stroking her hair. He'd gotten better at comforting people over the years, though the motions still felt, to an extent, unnatural.

"Way I figure it, this makes us even."

"Sugar, I ain't keepin' score," she said, smiling a little. The touch felt nice. Uncomplicated. She drew her other knee up to her chest and tucked her arms around them, then pushes her face against the tops of her thighs and let out a shuddering breath.

"He doesn't know me. He's- and I never thought these words would come out of my mouth, believe me- but he's more mature, he's..." She sighed and closed her eyes.

"Under my skin. Par for the course. I liked talking about your big life drama more," she told him, smiling a little and turning her head to rest her cheek on her knee so she could look at Jamie.

"It involves a stable relationship and baby booties."

"You sure he's not a pod person?" Jamie teased, smirking a touch. Gambit and maturity didn't seem to go together particularly well, but Jamie had to figure the same could be said about baby booties and Multiple Man.

"Pretty sure I'm the pod person equivalent in the situation," Rogue mumbled.

Jamie scoffed, shaking her a little.

"All a matter of perspective."

She smiled a little, grateful for his attempt at consoling her. It was a good one. A few years ago he would have stood awkwardly across the room and been totally useless.

"Well, the one that matters now is his. This place knocks the wind outta ya on a good day. He's dealing with a lot. Be nice, if you see him. Not weird-nice, I know y'all two weren't exactly pals, but. He doesn't need to know about-" She sighed, and gestured at herself.

"All this."

"You sure?" asked Jamie, giving her a sidelong look. "I haven't gone up and punched a guy for wronging someone I care about in forever."

"Awe," she said, reaching over to cover his hand with hers and give it a squeeze, "aren't you sweet. But no, sugar. He ain't done a thing wrong. I got the feeling he'd... he and I- or not I, exactly, but you know what I mean- there's some real history there. Not just the back and forth teasing and flirting and disappointment version I got, either, but. Something real."

And that hurt, too, as much as anything. Maybe more than.

"So 'm sure this is screwing with his head something awful, as bad as it is mine. Go easy."

Jamie deflated a little, sighing.

"All right, fine," he allowed. "I'll be nice. But if you change your mind..."

"You'll be the first to know," Rogue promised, and leaned over enough to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks, Jamie."

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howmanylives - 2014-03-22 22:55 (UTC) - Expand

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