Lori McDonald
June 1997
Hands in his pockets, he stood on the edge of the cliff, his hair whipping about his face as he looked at the rocks and water below.
It was almost romantic, how easy it would be to fall. Excalibur might even believe it was an accident. His vision was focused on one point - the edge of the cliff - and one booted foot reached forward to kick gently at the crumbly earth that gave way beneath it. Oh, yes, it'd be so easy to make it seem an accident.
He'd deserved what Sinister had done to him, his talk with Lockheed had made that so clear. He'd deserved to be locked, naked and collared, in a glass cage. To be taken out only to be experimented on, with drugs that made him sick, or operations that left him weak. He deserved it for seducing a woman just so he could rob her, for killing his own brother-in-law on his wedding night. For a hundred other evil or thoughtless things he'd done. For being the kind of man Sinister would want for his Marauders. For almost saying yes. Magneto was a prisoner for the things he'd done. It could be no less for him, only he'd die before he'd go back into another cage.
Die. He took a step forward and was right on the lip of the cliff, his toes over the edge, listening to the sound of dislodged pebbles falling. All he had to do was take one more step, or even just lean forward, and he'd never have to see the look on everyone's faces when they found out what kind of monster he really was.
"Herr Ash, please step back."
He hadn't heard Nightcrawler come up behind him, still absorbed on that single point of focus.
"How you know I was out here?" He asked.
"After the FOH attack, we set up sensors along the cliffs. One of them picked you up. These cliffs are very loose. Is there a reason you're standing so close to the edge?"
He shrugged. "I was t'inkin' of jumpin.'"
Wagner was silent for a long moment. "Ash," he said at last. "I don't know what religion you follow, but I am a Christian. I have always believed that anyone who commits suicide is damned to Hell automatically."
His face twisted as his shoulders hunched and he tried unsuccessfully not to cry. "It's GOTTA be better dan dis!"
"It won't be," Kurt assured him. "And is your life now so bad? You have friends, and a woman who loves you. You just can't see that right now because of the depression. It'll get better."
He heard him, but he shook his head. "Rogue jus' likes me 'cause her powers don' work on me."
"I think you credit her with too little, mein freund."
"I'm nobody. I don' deserve her. I deserve t' be in a cage, jus' like Magneto."
"Magneto..? Ack, never mind. Ash, answer me this. Do you want to be back in a cage?"
Weeks of isolation at a time. Cramped, uncomfortable, never knowing who'd be the next to be killed in the name of science.
"Non," he whispered with a shudder.
"Good. Now, do you want to die?"
He'd never tried to kill himself in Sinister's lab. One of the other prisoners had somehow broken off a jagged piece of the grating they defecated through and sawed open his throat with it. He watched, but he never tried to emulate him. Nor had he taken any of the opportunities presented in the pits and traps of the Morlock tunnels. Ultimately, he wanted to live, no matter what. Suicide wasn't a part of what he was, whether Ash, or 713, or Remy LeBeau or Gambit. Kurt was right. It was just the depression talking and it was beginning to lift.
"No," he admitted softly and turned around.
The entire section of cliff he was standing on gave way beneath him, and in a sudden hail of dirt and rock, he fell with it, too frightened even to scream as he watched the rocks below race up.
Then everything went completely black and he had a moment to wonder if Kurt was right about Hell, because he could smell brimstone.
Suddenly, he was kneeling on the grass back on top of the cliff, Kurt letting go of his arm. He was shaking, his eyes wide.
"Oh, t'ank God," he gasped.
"Yes," Kurt murmured softly. "Thank God, indeed."
"Keep yuir voice down, Rogue. A finally got him calmed doon enough tae rest. A dinnae need yuir caterwaling wakin' him oop again."
Emotionally exhausted and under the effects of a mild sedative, he lay in his darkened room and listened dimly to the faint voices on the other side of the curtain.
"Ah- ah heard Remy tried ta kill himself," Rogue blurted. "Is that true?" Amazingly enough, she sounded like she was crying.
He fell, leibling," Kurt told her. "I won't lie to you.
He was thinking about it, but he'd changed his mind when the
cliff gave out under him."
"But why?!"
In his room, he smiled slightly at that.
"No, he dinnae," Moira admitted. "Not accordin' tae Kurt.
He was even convinced that ye only stayed wi' him 'cause o'
his immunity tae yuir powers."
"WHAT?!"
"A told ye tae keep yuir voice down!"
But Rogue's temper couldn't be contained. "How could ya let this happen?!" She railed at her. "Ya supposed ta be his doctor! He coulda died!"
He flinched, not liking the anger, wishing he had the courage or the energy to go comfort her. But the drugs had him in a halfway zone, somewhere between sleep and waking, and all he could do was listen.
"Dinnae ye be blamin' me fuh this, lassie," Moira snapped. "A do th' best A can, but A dinnae have th' time tae be workin' wi' him an' ye all th' time, an' work on th' Legacy Virus too. A'm not as strong as A used tae be. Ash had us all fooled as tae how deep his depression went, but he wi' nae get a chance tae change his mind."
Rogue was silent for a moment. "Ah'm sorry, Moira," she said at last.
"Good. Now, Kurt, A want tae talk wi' ye soom more. A'm ver' concerned aboot what he said aboot Magneto." She sounded like she was moving away.
"Ah want ta see him," Rogue said suddenly. "Ah promise ah
won't wake him."
"Ye better nae or A'll have yuir ears!"
They walked out of hearing range as Rogue stepped into his room and over to his bed. He imagined her looking down at him.
Suddenly, the young woman grabbed his shoulder, flipped him onto his back, took him by the front of his pyjamas and pulled him half off the bed until he was nose to nose with her. Sedative or not, he opened his eyes.
"Let's get one thang b'tween us straight, sugah," she growled, her face enraged. "Ah love ya, so don't ya EVER try ta leave me like that again!"
He gasped, trying to speak even as she began shaking him. "Get this through ya head! Ah love ya, ah love ya, AH LOVE YA! Ah don't care 'bout ya past or if ya immune ta mah powers or not. Ah'll love ya anyway!"
Her words, so intense and passionate, convinced him, even as her shaking made him want to vomit.
"I'm sorry!" He gasped. The shaking stopped. "I'm so sorry."
Her lip trembled and she pulled him close. "Ah know, Remy. It's just... ya scared me somethin' awful."
His head was pillowed on her breasts and he put his arms around her, the drugs forcing him back into a doze.
"I scared m'self too, chere," he mumbled. "I scared m'self too."