TITLE: When Never Comes (X-Men – The Movie)

AUTHOR: Angelina

EMAIL: angelina2006@hotmail.com

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PAIRING: Jean/Rogue

SUMMARY: Jean comforts Rogue after a nightmare.

RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: Characters aren’t mine, they're the property of…er, Marvel? 20th Century Fox?

NOTES: This is my first ever ‘X-Men’ fic. It’s set in the Movieverse. I know hardly anything about the canon of the cartoon series and nothing about the canon of the comics. So these characters are definitely the ones from the movie…except Rogue’s voice…which just wasn’t Southern enough for my liking. Anyway, I wanted to read some Rogue/Jean but couldn’t find any. So I decided to write my own. Lemme know what you think.


“Jean?”

The tentative voice seemed lost in the cavernous kitchen. Jean turned around to see Rogue standing in the doorway, her face glistening with shed tears. Ever since her ordeal at the hands of Magneto, the young Southerner had been plagued by nightmare after nightmare. And that night, it seemed, would bring no respite from the onslaught.

Since the day of her arrival at the Charles Xavier School for the Gifted, Jean had taken a keen interest in the newest addition to the team. Her power was an intriguing and tragic gift – the ability to absorb the energy, the memories of another person simply by touching their skin with her own. And if the other person happened to be a mutant she got their powers as well. Jean was deeply moved by the emotions she sensed from Rogue: deep, dark emotions that worried her and drove her to observe the girl closely. Rogue was not the type to be free with her feelings, but she had confided in Jean about the dreams few times and for that Jean was thankful.

Jean now stood wordlessly and approached the girl. Stopping in front of her, the telepath took a moment to just to look at Rogue’s features. She looked older than her seventeen years. It was understandable, considering what she’d been forced to see, to remember. Memories that had no bearing in her own reality but that were as genuine to her as the recollections of childhood birthday parties. The atrocities of war, persecution, ridicule, hatred, fear. This young woman had done nothing to deserve the heavy burden she now carried. The extra weight of two foreign minds showed clearly in her tired, bloodshot eyes.

“Did you have another nightmare?”

Rogue nodded mutely. Her lips trembled and a gloved hand quickly came up to catch a new tear before it fell. Jean’s heart ached for the girl. Her own psychic abilities meant that she had been inside people’s heads; she’d seen things she would rather not know about. But she could escape it, leave it behind. Rogue didn’t have that luxury. She was condemned to keep those visions and that knowledge in her head forever. Moreover, she couldn’t have any sort of meaningful human contact for fear of draining the life-force out of someone. Jean feared it was all too much to take for one so young, so inexperienced in the ways of the world.

She reached out and grasped Rogue’s shoulder and was dismayed when the girl flinched back out of her reach.

“Don’t.”

Her voice was laced with tears and with real fear. She didn’t want anyone else to end up like Logan had when he’d touched her. She’d been so afraid he was going to die. She was so ashamed of what her touch could do to people. And she didn’t want Jean to be hurt by her. She’d never want to hurt Jean.

Jean smiled sadly at the frightened young girl before her. She reached out again, this time placing both hands on Rogue’s shoulders and holding on tightly.

“Rogue, it’s OK, you can’t hurt me, your skin is covered up, shhhh, come on, it’s OK, it’s OK, shhh, it’s OK…”

Jean continued to speak to Rogue in a soft, soothing tone as the youngster tried to move away from her. Soon she stopped struggling and stood still, looking at Jean’s hand resting on her shoulder. Cautiously she brought her hand up to hover just above Jean’s naked wrist, too afraid to go any further. Slowly she looked up into the warm, dark eyes of the woman she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since she’d touched Logan…no, before that…since she’d arrived at the school. Touching Logan had simply intensified the feelings, and added ones that she had previously not known were possible. But they were most definitely real feelings. Real and scary and pointless. What was the use of feeling that way about someone when you could never do any of the things you imagined? Never kiss those lips. Never caress that silken skin. Never.

And of course, even if she had been able to do those things, Jean wouldn’t want to anyway. She had Scott. And she was a teacher. Although, Rogue guessed that she couldn’t be all that old. Mid-twenties would be her estimate. And that really wasn’t all that much of a difference. Was it? But again, Jean wouldn’t want to. It was stupid even to consider it.

Rogue was still standing with her hand not quite touching Jean’s wrist when she felt herself being pulled forward. Her face made contact with a soft shoulder and long arms wound themselves around her body, holding her tightly. Rogue was too surprised at the sudden movement to protest. And by the time she was in Jean’s embrace, any desire to fight it had long since departed. Rogue pressed her face into the soft material of Jean’s robe, inhaling the distinctive scent it carried. An interesting side-effect of absorbing Wolverine had been a lingering heightened sense of smell. Something for which she was now grateful as she drank in the heady aroma of the woman holding her. Intoxicating.

Hesitantly, Rogue lifted her arms up and placed them around Jean’s waist. Gently at first she applied the tiniest bit of pressure. Then, when she became sure she couldn’t absorb anything, she tightened her grip. Soon she was hugging Jean to her with all her strength, her face buried in the solid shoulder in front of her. A gentle hand was running up and down the length of her spine, soft words floating into her ear.

She didn’t know if it was the warmth or the closeness or simply the fact that it was Jean, but something inside Rogue loosened. The released emotion swelled in her chest until she thought it might burst from the pain. It grew too much to keep inside and with a heaving sob Rogue started crying. And she couldn’t stop crying. She wept into Jean’s chest, clinging to her as the recent traumas and realisations about herself erupted out of her. The strong arms around her never loosened. The whispered reassurances never halted.

“Let it out Rogue, let it all out, I’m here, I won’t let you go, I’ll never let you go, that’s it, let it out…”

Rogue’s crying had lessened. Still she did not let go of the person saving her soul. Jean felt the tremors running through the body in her arms. She closed her eyes, almost overwhelmed by the feelings now emanating from Rogue. Feelings of gratitude and of relief and of love. Love. That had confirmed what she had suspected. At first she had thought it to be a residual trait of Logan’s. But this was too strong, too real, to be someone else’s feelings. Jean sighed and held Rogue closer.

Rogue brought her head out of Jean’s shoulder, retaining her hold on her waist. She looked up into the beautiful features above her. Deciding to be bold, Rogue took one hand away from its position on Jean’s waist and brought it up to caress her cheek. Her hand was trembling as she mapped out the contours of the perfect face. Her heart jumped when Jean’s eyes drifted closed and she leaned into the gentle contact. Rogue brought her shaking fingers to Jean’s lips, tracing their outline softly. Jean’s breath hitched in her throat at the intimate touch. She mentally scolded herself. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this. She knew it couldn’t go anywhere. But she couldn’t deny the strong attraction she felt towards Rogue.

Jean opened her eyes slowly and fought the urge to gasp at the wonder evident on the face in front of her. Rogue’s eyes were wide and darkened with desire. Her breath was coming in quick bursts as she watched her fingers continue their forbidden journey over Jean’s mouth.

“I want to kiss you.”

The whispered confession brought tears to Jean’s eyes. This was why she so admired Rogue. She was brave enough to say something, even though she feared the reaction to it. Jean had never been brave in that way. She preferred to stick with tried and tested things. Like her relationship with Scott. She had stayed with him despite never feeling even a fraction as alive with one of his touches as she felt now. She looked down into Rogue’s fearful eyes and smiled.

Without speaking Jean brought her own hand up to cover the one on her lips. Ever so softly she stroked the back of Rogue’s hand, trying to imagine how it would feel underneath the smooth fabric of her glove. Then she brought the hand back to her mouth and pressed a long kiss to the palm of it. She felt Rogue’s sharp intake of breath and glanced down to see an expression of delight tempered with confusion.

“I want to kiss you too.”

A smile broke out over Rogue’s troubled features for the first time in days. It was swiftly replaced with a frown as she tried to get things straight in her head. She had never in her wildest dreams pictured this. And after touching Logan her dreams had gotten pretty wild. She had never dared to hope that Jean might actually return her feelings. But here she was, her hand still partially covering Jean’s perfect lips, still tingling from the gentle kiss placed on her palm. She looked into Jean’s eyes questioningly.

“Did you know?”

Jean smiled softly, still caressing Rogue’s hand.

“I suspected. Well…no, I knew.”

“And you felt the same?”

Jean nodded, blushing, unable to meet Rogue’s gaze.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Rogue…it’s…it’s complicated…I’m your teacher…and Scott…”

Rogue emitted an animalistic snarl at the mention of Scott’s name. Another of Logan’s charming gifts. She clamped her lips together and looked at Jean worriedly. Jean laughed and pulled Rogue back into a tight embrace. When they parted Jean held her hand up next to Rogue’s cheek, yearning to close the small gap that existed, preventing her skin from touching Rogue’s. Rogue could feel the heat from Jean’s hand and it took all of her willpower not to lean into the offered comfort.

Jean felt Rogue’s turmoil and withdrew her hand. She pushed some of Rogue’s hair behind her ear and sighed at the predicament she had allowed herself to fall into. She smiled at the younger girl.

“We’ll figure something out.”

That was all the reassurance Rogue needed. Her smile returned with a vengeance and it warmed Jean’s heart to see it. Rogue once again wrapped her arms around the taller woman, revelling in her new-found knowledge that her feelings were reciprocated. Jean held the smaller body to her, closing her eyes, trying to block out all of the problems she knew this would cause. She just wanted to enjoy the moment.

Rogue pulled back and grinned shyly.

“I…uh…I should probably go back to bed now.”

She didn’t want to push her luck any further that night. She wanted to remember it for what it was: perfect.

“Do you think you can sleep now?”

“I think I just might be able to.”

Rogue moved out of Jean’s arms and stood back. She waited for a moment, contemplating something. Well, maybe she could make it a tiny bit more perfect. She moved swiftly back towards Jean and clapped a hand over the alluring mouth that had beckoned her from the second she’d seen it. She closed her eyes and leaned in. When her lips made contact with the back of her own hand she imagined that she was kissing Jean’s lips. She tried to sense their softness against her own, envision how it would taste, how it would feel to have Jean’s tongue pressed against hers. Then she felt Jean return the kiss on her palm. Rogue almost cried from the sheer wonder and frustration of it all. Regretfully she pulled away, her thumb grazing the lips she wanted so badly to taste. She looked up one last time through tear-filled eyes to take in Jean’s breathtaking beauty.

“Goodnight Jean.”

“Goodnight Rogue.”

END


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