Bitterness: Nocturne - Op. 9, No. 1 in B-flat Minor

by Sare Liz, teknovamp@yahoo.com

Disclaimers: Series to Jenn, Angst to Suz, characters to Stan, nocturne to Frederic.

Author's Note: I wrote this in response to the pain and agony that Suz put me through, and Jenn being a total sweetheart said it could be fanon. ::smiles:: And the Chopin just hurts.

It wasn't new, seeing him on Scott's bike but for some reason I stopped anyway. And I know what you're thinking. I am not the biggest gossip in the house. No, seriously.

You see, the Professor and I have been working for years, *years* on honing my telepathic ability and getting, well, generally no where interesting. Until the Ellis Island incident. He was hurt and I went for Cerebro anyway. It was like that little bit of prodding, well, flood gates weren't open, but I did exercise my potential far beyond what I'd ever done before. Like any other part of the human body, you stress it, it gets stronger.

It's our little secret, really. Scott, the Professor, and I. I have to almost *constantly* be using it to keep it from shrinking like an atrophied muscle, so it's as if I'm always on. But I've been practicing at that too.

I can hone it now, without even thinking really. I pick up signatures mainly, of strong emotions, things people can't keep inside themselves, things you would see normally if you looked closely enough. That's the way we rationalize it all away. It's more about extreme empathy, really, not even telepathy.

But I've been working on that too.

I can speak with the Professor from across the house, and he isn't the one doing all the work anymore. I meet him half way most of the time, and I even come into the secure part of his head that he lets me into the rest of the time. No, I don't mind about that. Why should I? Everyone is entitled to their privacy, aren't they?

Even Scott, who had to learn a hell of a lot more about mental shields since I've been using him to exercise with. I have to say, it's really a strange feeling, knowing practically everything about the person you love. Leads to mind-blowing sex, though.

Anyway. Logan. There is a man who could use a mental link with his mate. And he's sending off vibes, angrier than normal. We're talking murderous rage, angry.

I've only really seen him that way a dozen or so times, which isn't that much considering it's Logan we're talking about.

So I walk over to him, because I am, after all, the peace maker. No, there isn't any fear. I know he wouldn't hurt me unless I did something incredibly stupid like harm Rogue. And even then there would be a chance he wouldn't hurt me. The odds wouldn't be in my favor, but at least there would be odds to bet with.

And, ohmigod.

//Professor,// I scream out in my head, unintentionally dazing the man in the middle of whatever he was doing. I'll worry about apologizing later.

He comes to my mind, heedful of my frantic worry and sees what I see, bypassing the frivolous need for me to say anything else.

Because Logan is leaving again.

And there's the rage that comes off him like a *fire* and I'd have to be psychically *dead* not to be able to feel it. It burns, sticking like a chemical that eats through anything.

//Do what you can,// he says, sending promising ideas, knowing my mind was blank to any decent alternatives.

But how do you even start? The Professor didn't leave any hints about that.

"Logan," I say softly because even though I know he senses me, I can't be too careful. Besides, I'm doing something that under different circumstances I would never, *ever* do, and I'm a little freaked by it all.

I'm probing his mind, hoping he won't notice, and I have to say, I'm much better at it than I used to be.

And oh, god is he hurt.

And I go deeper.

Oh my god, Marie, what did you do?

Deeper.

Oh, shit, not the tags. He took the tags back. He just… *took* them.

Deeper.

Oh, my *god*, she didn't. Not with Remy. Not *Remy*.

Deep.

…

I can feel the shattered love he had. I know it was love, even though it had so recently been twisted into that burning acid that I'd felt even from the beginning, but very, very deep it was still love that was fueling the anger.

And don't even start with me. I don't care what preconceived notions you have about Wolverine, you can just shove them up your ass because you don't even know him, and no I will *not* watch my language, I'm angry dammit.

No, it's not Logan. It's me. And I know what love feels like in someone's mind. I've been in Scott's often enough, haven't I?

But still, even with all of the idea's of the Professor's there was no way I could ask him to stay until I knew the whole story.

So after all that, after I'd finally gotten his attention, probed his conscious mind as far as I could, I still didn't have a single thing to say.

Oh. Wait. Yes I do.

"I'll call you tomorrow, Logan. Drive safely."

He snorted.

I know what he's thinking. I am psychic, after all, even if no one knows about it.

He's thinking I don't get it. He's thinking I wouldn't understand it even if I did get it. He's thinking that this is it, and he's leaving and maybe they're will be a tomorrow, but none of us here are going to be in it. Most of all, he thinks the 'I'll call you' comment is a little funny, in a dark way, of course.

But *he's* the one who doesn't get it.

He doesn't know I'm psychic.

He doesn't know I can use Cerebro, either.

*

I can't decide what to do, I honestly can't.

Do I go up there, filled with all this rage - for the last time, no, it's not Logan's rage, it's my own damn rage, thank you - and just chew her out and probe for answers later, or probe first and chew later?

I know what I want to do.

I want to beat them both senseless, strap them down and perform horrible mind fucks on them until they come to grips with the fact that they are both deeply in love with one another, and they just shouldn't fuck with that.

No, I've never done a mind rape. Nobody may realize I'm a psychic, but I'm still ethical about it.

Yes, I know they are both incredibly in love with each other. I have no idea what happened that made Marie do what she did, but I do know she's in love with him, or at least she was this morning. It's one of those things that you just can't miss if you are remotely sensitive to emotions and people emoting them.

Ask Remy. He knows exactly what I'm talking about. And he's third on my list, and no, I can tell you right now that I won't be asking questions first and it has nothing to do with his mental shields.

But I knock on the door and she's there by herself and the first thing I do is a quick scan in her mind because I'm expecting a certain amount of confusion - this is Rogue we're talking about here. There's a virtual stag party going on in her head, in case you've forgotten the logistics of it. I've heard from the Professor how difficult it can be when she's upset.

And now I know first hand.

I'm getting so many things from her, I don't know who in her head is thinking what.

There's hatred. Several different angles that it's coming from, some of it I think is self-hatred. Which makes sense, a bit. At least if you consider that she loves Logan, yet had been sleeping with Remy.

There's relief, hidden a little, but there in quantities too strong to be anything else.

And… Oh my god, Marie you didn't. You idiot. You complete idiot. You can't actually believe that, can you? Are you that *blind*?

And I pause a moment, focusing, making sure that it really is Marie that I'm getting this from, not someone else in there, and damn but it is.

And I'm still in shock. How on *earth* could she think she wasn't loved? Of course he's restless, he's *Logan*. Of course he stayed - he *loves* you, you twit!

And I go deeper in that line of her thought that I grabbed hold of, ignoring the strange commentary and wondering later how she lives with it. And I go past that initial shock of her relief that she's *freed* him of all things. I go deeper, into how she did it, because if I don't know, then I can't fix it.

Not that I'll be doing the fixing mind you, but still. Besides, I'm here, I'm going to yell at her anyway, I might as well know ev-

Oh my god you _didn't_.

My head is in my hands as she opens the door. The look on her face is priceless.

And, I wasn't careful enough.

I should have realized - Marie knows what it feels like to have other people in her head and I wasn't *nearly* careful enough, blundering around in there like a fool in the dark.

I'd probably be embarrassed, if the situation were any different.

"Of course Ah did," she said, answering the last mental thought I'd had before I fled from her mind.

She scared me with the look. It was amused. She shouldn't be amused at this point. She should be angry or sad or remorseful or still in Remy's arms - and it's to that man's benefit that Logan didn't find them that way because I'm sure at this point, Remy still *has* arms - but she shouldn't be…

She's not amused. I was wrong. She's hysterical.

Oh, god. I was ready for pretty much everything but hysterical. You can't be pissed off at someone who is so upset they're hysterical, you just can't. It's not in me to be that way.

So instead of rounding on her like I wanted to when I stormed up the stairs and scared some of the younger students, I found myself holding her on the bed as she cried.

I couldn't believe it. She honestly thought he didn't love her, that he was dissatisfied in some vague and undefined way, and she figured that vague undefined way was her.

So she hurt him, and done a bang up job, let me tell you. She'd seduced Remy - I'm still going to yell at him - for the express purpose of getting his scent on her. She'd even cried afterwards.

Oh, Marie. What have you done?

Sure, maybe this wasn't Logan's idea of a happily ever after, but didn't you think to find out if there was a better way?

Of course not. You didn't think there was a better way. I know.

Shhh…

And for some reason the sex was bothering her too. I pointed out that communication can solve that problem really quickly, but I don't think she heard me.

She didn't hear much of anything for a while there, but she came out of it eventually. I had a stiff back and a growling stomach, but she was calm again, and I could finally set about righting the situation, explaining in no uncertain terms just what the hell was going on.

The End