A series by November

Chapter 79: Still Inside

“After all I've died,
After all I've tried,
You are still inside.
All I do,
I can still feel you...”
--Nine Inch Nails

Charles told no one. He came when she was still in the ER, lying bloody in a hospital gown, vomity bloody clothes put into a bag. The whirr of his wheelchair was like the soothing hum of a mother’s voice and she turned her head from the wall.

Her face was swollen and her lip was cut. Her nose throbbed, but had stopped bleeding. He didn't try to hide his reaction to her face. He was angry and upset, eyes narrowing, mouth tight. “How’d you get here?”

“Eloise. I didn’t tell her why.”

Rogue nodded numbly.

Her hand was so cold. She didn’t even realize it until his covered hers. They often saw him as a purely cerebral being, crippled and aphysical, but his hand was warm and strong and she needed it.

He didn’t say anything for a long time, just sat with her, squeezing her hand.

“Did you definitely lose him?” he finally asked.

She nodded. They wouldn’t tell her that yet, but she knew. A tear trickled slowly out the corner of her eye.

Charles wiped it away. “May I?”

She nodded. His hand was pressed against her cheek and again she felt the sweep, more gentle than before. She felt the memory and thought and image project to him.

Then he was out of her head, leaving her cold and missing his presence. “It’s not your fault,” he said.

“I could have done better. Done without.”

“No, you couldn’t.” He touched the gauze above the would on her neck. “If you didn’t absorb him you would be dead and little Logan would still be just as dead. That would have helped nobody.”

She was quiet, knowing that he would say that, and taking comfort in it, but not believing it for a second.

“Do you want me to call Logan?”

My fault.

“Not just yet.”

So they stayed that way, him taking her cold hand in his warm ones.

They sedated her and performed a D and C. After, she permitted Xavier to call Logan. When he arrived she was clean and neat in her bed, sanitary napkin in place, neatly catching the remainders of the child that fell from her.

She had expected hysterics, rage. Instead there was just sadness, deep sadness and love in his eyes. He looked at her, deep into her, and held her hands. “Marie.”

I killed him.

She let herself be soothed by him, by his sitting on the bed and holding her as her uterus throbbed and her nose throbbed and her face throbbed and she cried, and it made her guilty, but still she took him in, taking his warmth.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said.

“No, Marie. No. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I could have taken him.”

“No you couldn’t. Don’t do this to yourself.” His whisper was new and heavy with unshed tears. She saw them swimming in his eyes and they made her even more guilty.

Then, blessedly, sleep came.

Later, police came for her statement. Logan had left to pick Maggie up. She was staring at the ceiling, trying to just float, when they entered. She glanced sluggishly toward them. She felt empty like a balloon, a body remaining at rest until acted upon, with no initiative or energy to act on her own.

She knew she had to do it though, so she recounted the attack, telling them everything from her puking until the time they found her, omitting only the part about using her power. He crumpled over slowly, she lied.

“So you didn’t do anything to hurt him?” one of the officers said skeptically.

“I got a few punches in.”

Marie creeped him out. Her face was puffy with bruises and so emotionless that she seemed inhuman. It had been a slow day in the morgue and the assailant had already been autopsied. There was nothing to corroborate the claim of a heart attack, but nothing to refute it either. He had hit his head on the way down but that was not an obvious cause of death. Nothing would stand up in court, despite the hunches the officer had, the rumors he’d heard when doing interviews on campus.

After she had finished her account the cops asked if there was anything else she wanted to add. She asked if the Tri-Delt had been found. They said that she had not, but that there was a knife with prints and Marie’s blood. Would she like to press charges?

“I dunno.” She didn’t want to think.

“I heard that you had a miscarriage.”

She just looked at him, eyes tearful, but the rest of her so numb.

“Why?”

“I dunno. He punched me in the stomach. Doctor says a lot of times it just happens.”

Then she pulled her knees up to her face and sobbed. The sound was ragged and raw. The officer who had been so creeped out by her lack of emotion stood there unsure of what to think. He saw the glint of an engagement ring, a wedding band, on the hand pressed to her face. Her hair was long and thick and beautiful. She was someone’s wife. Someone’s mother. Not any more.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He touched her shoulder ever so lightly, then placed a card on the nightstand table, and left.

The next day an absurdly cheerful doctor came in and told her she was just fine, and ready to go home. Marie wanted to gut her. As the pain in her womb faded the pain in her heart only got worse. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t have the energy. Decided right there and then that she was gonna take a vacation from talking.

Logan came and she smiled weakly at him. She was so guilty and sad that the effort of smiling brought tears to her eyes. He held her and stroked her hair on the hospital bed as they waited for the nurse to discharge her.

They gave her the dirty clothes in a bag to take home with the few belongings she had. They insisted on wheeling her to the main lobby though she could walk just fine, and she smiled sadly at the nurse as she folded up the chair and said goodbye to Marie. She waited until he pulled up with the truck.

Outside, it was bitter cold. Though he had brought her coat, gloves, and scarf it tore through her, taking her breath away for those few short steps to the truck. It was perversely sunny. She climbed up into the truck and its warmth, fighting back tears.

On the way home, he looked sideways at her and stroked her hair. As they went onto the highway the tears went back inside and the engine’s drone allowed her to retreat deep within herself.

He told her as they walked upstairs from the garage that he’d called Dr. Pileggi and told her that she would be out for a few days. Everyone knew anyway.

“I’m not going back.” she said.

“Not going back? But this is your last semester.” Logan was taken aback.

“Oh I’ll go back eventually. But not now.” She said almost calmly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

Her behavior had him worried. At home she curled up in bed and he was afraid until he finally got in with her and she clung to him like he was life itself. It made him feel needed.

Jean came and sat on Rogue’s bed, stroked her hair a bit. She was gentle and perfect and Marie couldn’t bear it. “Jeannie, I can’t talk about this. I love you dearly, but I just don’t wanna deal with words right now.”

Jean stroked her hair back a bit, then said “okay. How about touch?”

Marie nodded in aquiescence and gently rubbed Rogue’s back, stroked her hair. It was motherly, sisterly, and Jean’s warm hands, combined with her latest dose of Tylenol with Codiene, lulled her to sleep.

Jean was there, cooking them supper, when Logan returned.

“Jeannie? What are you doing here?”

“Making you guys supper. How are you holding up, Logan?”

He stared at her for a second. He never adjusted to having a caring family around him. She thought he would ignore her but he finally said. “I don’t know.”

Jean nodded.

“The baby I’ll deal with later, right now it’s her I’m worried about.”

“Why?”

“I’ve never seen her like this - so withdrawn. She said that she’s not going back to school. She’s just gonna drop out, indefinitely.”

“She just needs time. I think it’s wise for her to go with that instinct.”

“Jeannie, being cooped up around the house isn’t gonna be any good for her. She didn’t let me do it after the Hoboken thing. I don’t know what I should do, if I should push her.”

Jean rubbed his back. “Take it day by day. Give her time but don’t let her hole up in bed.”

He nodded.

“I’m worried about you too. I know how much you wanted the baby.”

He just stood, defenseless, tears in his eyes.

“There’s no reason we can’t have another one, is there?”

“Absolutely not. There’s no reason you two can’t have as many babies as you want.”

Maggie came into the kitchen. “Hi Jeannie.”

“Hi sweetie pie. How was school today?”

“I’m worried about my momma.”

“Well, she’ll be better after a while. She’s asleep now but later why don’t you give her a big hug?”

She lay awake in bed and knew that she was worrying them. But the burning ache in her heart screamed and she couldn’t find it in herself to reach out. Maggie came in and she smiled weakly at her.

Logan came in and forced her to come to dinner. She told him several times to go to hell but he was relentless. He pulled her covers off and finally she got up, if only to shut him up. Her hair was disheveled and she needed a shower.

Immediately after eating Marie went back to bed. He rubbed her back for a while then watched TV with Maggie. He gave her her bath, made sure she brushed her teeth. He sat next to her on her pink bed and read to her. In the middle of her favorite Seuss book she said “Is Momma gonna be allright?”

He closed the book and looked down at her. She seemed so small. He pulled her into his lap and held her tight.

Finally he spoke. “She will eventually. She just needs to be sad for a while.”

“Why did she lose the baby?”

Logan held her close and thought for a long time about what to say. Finally he said. “Mom has a really special power. She is able to flip this switch in her mind and suck the energy out of people. When she was at school these two people attacked her. She wasn’t feeling so well and she had a hard time fighting them off. But your mom, she can take anyone because of her power. She can touch them and suck the life out of them. That’s what she did to the one guy. But when she turned it on she was also touching the baby inside, and it made him die.”

“I want him back.” Maggie was crying.

“Me too, baby. It was either that or the bad guys would kill her. She chose to save herself so she could come back to you and me.”

Maggie had no words for her grief. It was so unfair. He just held her and they both cried.