u n r e q u i t e d

Unrequited
[by victoria p.]

Rating: G

Summary: "I learned the truth at seventeen."

Notes: Thanks to Jen, Pete and M'Rae, Dot, and Meg. Atypical of my stuff. Not L/R shipper friendly. Inspired by "At Seventeen" by Janis Ian.

Date: September 9, 2002

"We need to talk."

I try not to wince.

I know, from watching endless hours of bad TV, those words never lead to anything good. A little shiver runs down my spine, but I pretend everything is all right.

I'm biting my lip, and I force myself to stop. I want to show him I'm an adult, someone he can want and love, someone who loves him.

He takes my hand and leads me outside, to a bench in the garden. It's a little chilly, but I don't mind. Just being near him warms me up. We just sit and stare out at the horizon for a while.

Or, he stares out at the horizon. I keep sneaking glances at him. I can't help it. He's so handsome. I'm so happy he came back.

I mean, I knew he would. He said he would. I touch his dog tag, hidden beneath my turtleneck, snug between my breasts. I think of his hands touching me there, even over my shirt, and I'm finding it hard to breathe.

He notices. Of course, he notices. He notices everything about me, and I do the same with him.

He glances at me, and then looks back out at the sun setting beyond the trees.

"Look, Rogue," he starts, and he plays with my hand, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fingers of my gloves. I lick my lips, as my mouth has suddenly gone dry. "I, I know you've been through a lot. And, well, a lot of that is my fault--"

"No! How can you think that, Logan? You saved me--"

His hand tightens around mine, and I can feel the adamantium in his grip. "If I hadn't screwed up in the first place, I wouldn't have had to. But the thing is," he takes a deep breath, "the thing is, Rogue, that you think I'm some kinda hero.

"And I'm not."

"Logan--"

"Let me finish." His voice is sharp and I snap my mouth shut. "You had a rough time. And yeah, I helped you out. And Xavier -- he wants to help you, too.

"These guys, Cyke, Storm, Jean -- they're the heroes, not me."

"But--"

"I'm just a guy who tried to do the right thing. And--"

"Logan, I love you." I've been feeling it forever, but even I'm a little shocked at how I just blurted it out.

He closes his eyes and his forehead crinkles, as if what I said hurt him. He looks at me, raises his other hand, but then drops it back onto his lap. He's never been afraid to touch me before. His grip on me tightens almost painfully. I don't understand-- His voice breaks into my thoughts.

"No, Rogue, you don't. You just think you do. It's okay, it's... we can deal with it--"

"Deal with it?" My voice gets a little shrill, and I need to take a deep breath to calm down.

"You're young, you're a kid. You've got a crush--"

I can't take it anymore. I jump up, pulling my hand away, leaving the glove behind in his grip.

"A crush? Is that what you think? Logan, I have you in my *head*. I *know* you, what you think and feel! I thought you understood. I thought you felt the same."

He looks down at the glove and then up at me again. His mouth moves but no sound comes out.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me," I challenge, feeling more confident as he can't meet my gaze.

He stands then, and holds the glove out to me, but I let it drop to the grass. "I'm sorry," he says. "I care about you, kid. You mean a lot to me. You really do. I wouldn't have risked my life for you if you didn't.

"But I don't love you like that. Not like you want. Not like you need. I-- I'm sorry."

He shoves his hands in his pockets, and walks away.

I rush after him and grab his arm with my bare hand. He doesn't flinch from that, though when he looks into my eyes, I can tell he's unhappy. I know he hates heart-to-heart talks. I know he doesn't do well with emotional scenes. He probably thinks he's doing what's best for me, but he doesn't understand how much I need him, how much I want him. My hand tightens reflexively, and his arm tenses. I can feel the muscles move beneath the layers of cloth separating us.

He's lying. He has to be lying.

"Prove it," I whisper.

He raises my bare hand toward his face, his eyes locked on mine, and I know. I don't even have to touch him to see it.

Oh, God.

It's my turn to run away. I'm such an idiot.

He doesn't love me. I don't want to believe it, but I can tell.

It's the truth.

end

~*~

At Seventeen
by Janis Ian
I learned the truth at seventeen
that love was meant for beauty queens
and high school girls with clear skinned smiles
who married young and then retired
the valentines I never knew
the Friday night charades of youth
were spent on one more beautiful
at seventeen I learned the truth

And those of us with ravaged faces
lacking in the social graces
desperately remained at home
inventing lovers on the phone
who called to say - come dance with me
and murmured vague obscenities
it isn't all it seems at seventeen

A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
whose name I never could pronounce
said - pity please the ones who serve
they only get what they deserve
the rich relationed hometown queen
marries into what she needs
with a guarantee of company
and haven for the elderly

So remember those who win the game
lose the love they sought to gain
in debentures of quality and dubious integrity
their small-town eyes will gape at you
in dull surprise when payment due
exceeds accounts received at seventeen

To those of us who knew the pain
of valentines that never came
and those whose names were never called
when choosing sides for basketball
it was long ago and far away
the world was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for free
to ugly duckling girls like me

We all play the game, and when we dare
we cheat ourselves at solitaire
inventing lovers on the phone
repenting other lives unknown
that call and say - come on, dance with me
and murmur vague obscenities
at ugly girls like me, at seventeen

~*~

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Disclaimer: All X-Men characters belong to Marvel and Fox; this piece of fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.