Death Song

Drip, drip, drip.

The body begins to twitch as the muscles relax.

Drip, drip, drip.

After the events of Alkali Lake, Logan saw little point in life anymore. Jean was gone, he had thrown away his only chance of finding out who he was. He wanted to run but found he couldn't. All he wanted to do, was die.

That was a thing easier said than done.

He had tried, oh had he tried. He had put his hand to his head and pulled the trigger, but there was just a jolt as Adamantium met Adamantium, and failed to penetrate. He had tried everything he could think of. The pills, poisons and alcohols where all metabolized by his system and rendered useless. The more destructive methods where taken care of by his healing factor. He contemplated starving himself to death, but that would take too long. He could throw himself into the lake; with his metal bones, he would sink like a stone. Or he could get Bobby to freeze him; freeze him fast enough and his mutation wouldn't have a chance to kick in.

Combinations are a tricky thing,

Each one is similar, but needs different cures.

He mulled over the possibilities when a memory caught his attention.

"What happened"?

"Rogue's mutation. Whenever Rogue touches someone she takes their energy. Their life force. In the case of mutants, she absorbs their gifts for a short while. In your case, your ability to heal".

"Felt like she almost killed me".

"If she'd held on any longer, she could have".

That was it!

Drip, drip, drip.

Quick and painless, more or less.

But how to do it.

She never took those damn gloves off even for one second!

Logan had been stalking his cure for the better part of a month, looking for an opening, a way in. So far, he had found none.

Lady luck seemed to be on his side that night though; sweet Lady luck. He was in the kitchen after yet another nightmare about Alkali Lake, when Rogue walked in, seeking refuge from nightmares of her own.

She wore no gloves, bare arms, and bare legs, as the nightgown she was wearing, came to just above her knees. He wore no shirt, and felt if he could just get close…

"Hey kid, bad dreams"? She nodded, getting a glass of water and sitting down next to him.

There was silence as she sipped her drink and got up when it was finished to put it in the sink. He watched her, and came up behind her. Feeling him behind her, she spun around. He was far too close.

"Can I help you with something?", she asked uncomfortably. He was far too close.

He took a step closer, and another, she followed suit by taking a step back until she was pinned up against the counter.

"I'm so lonely, everything hurts, I want you to make it better. I need you. I need you to make it better".

Before she could ask what was going on, he had her. His arms around her, he held her arms against his bare back, and wrapped his bare ankle around hers, covering her lips, so she couldn't scream. He drank it all in, welcoming the pull, and holding her in place as she began to struggle.

The body begins to twitch as the muscles relax.

I know my poisons.

Do you know your antidotes?

He fought to hold on; to her, not to life; that, he let slip blissfully away.

Drip, drip, drip.

Drip, drip, drip…