Unspoken: Five Minutes

Five Minutes
by Shana

Rating: PG-13

Summary: How long five minutes can truly be.

Timeline: Sometime after "Unexpected"

Notes: It's all Warren's fault. Seriously. Don't hate him cause he flies. ;-)

Date: October 22, 2001

Five minutes to pack.

Five minutes to leave.

Five minutes to die inside.

She had five minutes to gather herself, gather what really mattered to her and get out before anything got any worse.

Because, by God, if Logan could do it after all that happened-- all that he was at fault for-- then so could she.

And he could damn well beg to get his dogtags back.

She knew she was lying to herself, though. She owed Xavier an explanation. She, at the very least, needed to tell Scott that she didn't actually -hate- him...

Though nothing would put them back together.

Rogue sighed and leaned against the doorjamb, hugging herself. It was a shitty night and showed no signs of improving.

Not even the dock was safe. It was no longer her haven.

Idly, she wondered about the Asian-- what was her name?-- that had walked in and gone so far as to shake the already well stirred pot. Oh, yeah, Logan was a keeper. An Asian, trampy beauty, and a redhead runaway.

What the fuck was she thinking, anyways?

She laughed at herself. What a sight she had to be. One ex-fiancé, one screwed up fling. Two for two.

That was when she started counting down her five minutes. If she was lucky, she'd take that long and be gone before anyone noticed.

Out and gone in five minutes. Not quite as dramatic as sixty seconds, but nevertheless, a short deadline.

"What are you doing, Rogue?"

Three minutes and twenty-six seconds. Damn ironic. "Packing, sugar. What does it look like?"

Scott Summers, looking a little worse for wear--perhaps a bit punch drunk as well-- leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom and watched her pace like an agitated animal. "Looks like you're running."

That made her laugh. Shaking her head and wishing she had gall enough to up and smack the man for his gift of the obvious, she instead turned back to her packing. "Well, what do you expect? Ain't got anything left besides turnin' off men and drownin' them. So, yeah, I'm runnin' and I swear to God if ya try to stop me, I'll take my gloves off and end this argument the hard way."

His frown was unflinching. Threats really meant little at this point. "I owed you one last talk."

Two minutes, fifteen seconds. "And you reckon that how?"

"Because even though we never exchanged vows, even though there aren't any kids to ration time with, there's no quick 'goodbyes' for people like us. You can't just wreck a room and think it's done."

"Arrogant bastard."

The frown curled into an unpleasant smile. "No, that's Warren... who I probably have to eat some crow with later."

Her bag was finally half packed on the bed. She cursed under her breath; at this point she'd never get out fast. "Great, whatever. I'll be leaving now."

"No."

"'Scuse me?"

"I said 'no', and I meant it. If you cared about anything, you'll stand there and be civil. "

She hissed through her teeth. One minute, thirty-eight seconds. "Talk fast."

He paused. Here was the perfect chance to put a happy gloss on their shattered relationship, and all he could think about was how it fell apart.

Irony was laughing at them. "Logan?"

Picking up a shoe and nearly hurling at him, Rogue resisted the tantrum. Maybe she did deserve such a blunt... and stupid question. "How the fuck should I know? One minute he's a shepherd to that pathetic redhead, next he's here soothing me. And now-- NOW-- that Asian bitch is mixing it up even more and as far as I can tell, everyone's gettin' the shaft from him. Whaddya want to hear, Scott? The truth?"

He nodded solemnly.

She cleared her throat. "I'd screw that man up and down the Mississippi if I could, harem or not. Prob'ly can't though, even less than I could you. At least you understood, I could trust-- well, I used to trust you."

"Not anymore."

Thirty-two seconds. "A wolf pack is made outta trust. Loyalty, protection, belief in one's position in the pack, and that the others look out for ya while you're there. But when ya shatter that trust, there's no going back. No matter what's proven, what's done, that violation forever mars the connection."

"So your solution," he answered darkly, "is to leave the pack."

"Never was the alpha female, though I wouldn't have minded if it was on your arm. But it's not my style; I'm too untouchable, too personally isolated." Rogue shrugged and hefted the bag up, throwing it over her shoulder. "Hey, who knows. Rip Red from winged clutches and make her a legitimate bitch," she laughed at the shock in his expression, "in every sense of the word."

"Rogue-- Marie--"

She pushed past him with a forced ease. "No, I'm done. I've got a hotel down the road a spell that I'm staying at for a week... so I can settle with Xavier. Don't call if ya care to socialize. Later, sugar."

Two seconds to spare.

~*~

Realization by Crystal Claire

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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.