Categories > Movies > X-Men: The Movie > I'll Be Coming Back for This
Stray Dogs
2 reviewsTakes place two years after the first movie. Rogue somehow misplaces Logan's dogtag. Scott and the others try to comfort her.
1Moving
Clenching her fist around the precious scrap of metal that she'd held so tightly to for the past two years, Rogue took once more to her incessant pacing. First she paced the Rec room. When glances of annoyance were thrown her way, she paced the halls. After nearly being run over there, she decided the halls were too crowded and took to her room. There she paced the small area without interruption.
It had been her semi-regular routine for those two long years. Every once in a while, a queer feeling would flutter up from her stomach into her chest. Anxiety and anticipation would grip her heart and she would pace to and fro to keep herself calm, checking windows often and listening carefully for the sound of a motor. Hours would turn to days, days into weeks, and the feeling would eventually disappear for a while. Things would more or less go back to normal before the whole cycle would start again.
Until now. The fluttery feeling had returned yesterday, making her restless once more. But this time it was worse. It fluttered up past her chest and settled in her head, flying about and whispering strangely in her mind. It made her even more restless than ever. It felt like something - or someone - was moving around inside her, and she didn't like it one bit.
At last, after everyone else had gone to bed, she grew weary of the constant movement and went to bed. But the next morning, after a fitful night of tossing and turning, she was up early, intent on continuing her vigil. Only something was different. Something was wrong.
The dogtag was missing.
Her treasured possession, the one thing that had comforted her in her loneliness, had vanished in the night. In a frenzied panic, she looked high and low, turning her room inside out in her search. The closet and bureau were emptied, the sheets torn off the bed, the nightstand cleared off, the laundry basket turned upside down, all in an attempt to find the missing keepsake. She wished, briefly, that Logan's powers had not worn off, otherwise she could have smelled it out. At last, utterly defeated and at a complete loss, she flung herself upon the bed in despair.
There was a knock at the door. She didn't bother to answer it. She knew who it was. The three of them visited her every day in an effort to ease the pain that each passing hour brought to her. But they were failing miserably, for they couldn't bring him back, and he was the only one that could fix her bleeding, lonely heart.
Regardless of this fact, they still tried, especially Scott. He lately had taken to bringing in stray dogs for her to care for. The school was filled with them. Each one she fed, cared for, and then passed on to some other lonely student.
But today she just wasn't in the mood to care for another on Scott's mangy mutts. By now the fluttering in her head had become an annoying buzz that was making her irritable.
The door opened and - as she predicted - in walked Scott, Storm, and Jean. Wonderful/, she thought. /Here we go again. And Scott looks as eager as ever to cheer me up. Had they been visible, Rogue was sure his eyes would have sparkled with mischief. As it was, his mouth was turned up in an odd smile that said he had something to tell her, and that he believed it would make her feel better. She had seen it there so many times before. In fact, they all seemed to be wearing relatively the same expression. Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she waited.
"Scott brought in another stray last night," Storm said, trying to hide an odd smile of amusement.
Scott nodded in affirmation. "He was a big fella, too. Poor half-starved thing looked like he walked all the way from Canada, he was so foot-sore. Jean fixed him up a bit, but I still think he could have used a good flea-bath."
"I told you that you were welcome to try," Jean interjected. "I seriously doubt that mutt would stand for it."
"Anyway," he concluded, "we stuck him in Logan's room for you. Figured he might feel a bit crowded in here with all your nervous pacing."
Rogue rose and brushed wordlessly past them, heading down the hall toward Logan's old room. Had she glanced over her shoulder, she might have seen the pleased smiles on the three faces. But she didn't. She was too occupied by the ever-increasing buzz in her head. It got worse and worse the farther she went, until she was almost sure she could hear it forming words.
Told you, didn't I? I kept my promise. It's all right now. No more worrying. It's all going to be okay.
Before she knew it, there was the door. She hesitated a moment before going in. She hadn't been inside that room since he'd left. Slowly, she pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it softly behind her.
Again, she hesitated, still facing the wall. She just couldn't bear the thought of any other creature - stray dog or not - occupying his room, lying in his bed. She couldn't bring herself to turn around and look.
"Hey, kid."
To Be Continued...
It had been her semi-regular routine for those two long years. Every once in a while, a queer feeling would flutter up from her stomach into her chest. Anxiety and anticipation would grip her heart and she would pace to and fro to keep herself calm, checking windows often and listening carefully for the sound of a motor. Hours would turn to days, days into weeks, and the feeling would eventually disappear for a while. Things would more or less go back to normal before the whole cycle would start again.
Until now. The fluttery feeling had returned yesterday, making her restless once more. But this time it was worse. It fluttered up past her chest and settled in her head, flying about and whispering strangely in her mind. It made her even more restless than ever. It felt like something - or someone - was moving around inside her, and she didn't like it one bit.
At last, after everyone else had gone to bed, she grew weary of the constant movement and went to bed. But the next morning, after a fitful night of tossing and turning, she was up early, intent on continuing her vigil. Only something was different. Something was wrong.
The dogtag was missing.
Her treasured possession, the one thing that had comforted her in her loneliness, had vanished in the night. In a frenzied panic, she looked high and low, turning her room inside out in her search. The closet and bureau were emptied, the sheets torn off the bed, the nightstand cleared off, the laundry basket turned upside down, all in an attempt to find the missing keepsake. She wished, briefly, that Logan's powers had not worn off, otherwise she could have smelled it out. At last, utterly defeated and at a complete loss, she flung herself upon the bed in despair.
There was a knock at the door. She didn't bother to answer it. She knew who it was. The three of them visited her every day in an effort to ease the pain that each passing hour brought to her. But they were failing miserably, for they couldn't bring him back, and he was the only one that could fix her bleeding, lonely heart.
Regardless of this fact, they still tried, especially Scott. He lately had taken to bringing in stray dogs for her to care for. The school was filled with them. Each one she fed, cared for, and then passed on to some other lonely student.
But today she just wasn't in the mood to care for another on Scott's mangy mutts. By now the fluttering in her head had become an annoying buzz that was making her irritable.
The door opened and - as she predicted - in walked Scott, Storm, and Jean. Wonderful/, she thought. /Here we go again. And Scott looks as eager as ever to cheer me up. Had they been visible, Rogue was sure his eyes would have sparkled with mischief. As it was, his mouth was turned up in an odd smile that said he had something to tell her, and that he believed it would make her feel better. She had seen it there so many times before. In fact, they all seemed to be wearing relatively the same expression. Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she waited.
"Scott brought in another stray last night," Storm said, trying to hide an odd smile of amusement.
Scott nodded in affirmation. "He was a big fella, too. Poor half-starved thing looked like he walked all the way from Canada, he was so foot-sore. Jean fixed him up a bit, but I still think he could have used a good flea-bath."
"I told you that you were welcome to try," Jean interjected. "I seriously doubt that mutt would stand for it."
"Anyway," he concluded, "we stuck him in Logan's room for you. Figured he might feel a bit crowded in here with all your nervous pacing."
Rogue rose and brushed wordlessly past them, heading down the hall toward Logan's old room. Had she glanced over her shoulder, she might have seen the pleased smiles on the three faces. But she didn't. She was too occupied by the ever-increasing buzz in her head. It got worse and worse the farther she went, until she was almost sure she could hear it forming words.
Told you, didn't I? I kept my promise. It's all right now. No more worrying. It's all going to be okay.
Before she knew it, there was the door. She hesitated a moment before going in. She hadn't been inside that room since he'd left. Slowly, she pushed the door open and slipped inside, closing it softly behind her.
Again, she hesitated, still facing the wall. She just couldn't bear the thought of any other creature - stray dog or not - occupying his room, lying in his bed. She couldn't bring herself to turn around and look.
"Hey, kid."
To Be Continued...
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