Title: Darring Happiness
Fandom: X-Men
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Gambit/Rogue, Wolverine, Deathdream
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Rogue and Logan, aka Moonbeam and Ground Bear, are two survivors who share a lot in common.
Word Count: 1,871
Written For: HalfAMoon 2025 Day 10. Domestic Life
Date Written: 9 February 2025
Warnings: Spoilers, Cannon Character Deaths
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.







It was on days like today that a girl felt better than she had any right to. The sun was shining, and she could feel its warmth streaming in through the windows in the kitchen which no longer felt as small as it had when they had first arrived. Back then, they had been running again. There was a still part of her that doubted they ever should have stopped, but she had been accustomed still to the mansion and its roomy kitchen.

The Professor had expanded the kitchen over the years with those like her husband and Jean who had so loved to cook. Back then, she had been unable to find any allure to cooking, but one of the rules at their new place was that everybody cooked and everybody cleaned. She didn't mean the cleaning, and over the last several months, she had come to rather enjoy the cooking as well. She no longer burned everything she touched, something Remy had always chided her had been a mindset. She did have a tendency to destroy everything she touched, or so she had for many, far too many years.

But a day like today was almost meant to bring a woman out of the darkness of accepting one's true self. That was always a dark place, she'd learned, despite what psychiatrists would have people think. Everyone made mistakes. Everybody suffered through death. But some folks had endured far more death than others. She and the only other person still in the house this day were both among the growing number of the latter.

Logan rustled his paper, subtly reminding her of his presence. For two people had started out bitter enemies, their friendship had grown to where, other than her husband and the Professor, he was the person she trusted the most. Despite what he might sometimes say, despite the distance he often tried to shove between him and the whole rest of the world, Rogue knew he also trusted and loved her. She also understood his need for distance, being that he had suffered through more death and loss than anybody else she'd ever known in her whole life.

She could see the kids and her husband darting around outdoors. Remy and Marcus had managed to pull Ransom into a game of football earlier that morning, and somehow the three kept it going still. Jitter and Calico had been in barn again, until Becca had taken Ember for a ride. Jitter had trailed behind, but word from Marcus' sweet wife was that she was last seen helping Becca scrub Ember down in the warm sunshine after their ride.

She felt, rather than saw, when poor, little Hotoru entered the kitchen and began to sneak up behind her. He almost jumped back when she turned abruptly around to face him with a pitcher of lemonade in her hand. "Did th' girls send you, Dreamy?"

He blushed. "Yes. They... They wanted me to see if there were any more cookies?"

"Not too many more before lunch, young'un," Rogue spoke gently as she poured the freshly squeezed lemonade into three plastic cups already sitting on a server tray. She'd known one of the three would come eventually. They actually did like her cookies, and after many attempts, and Remy's suggestions, this latest batch had come close to those she could vaguely remember her Grandmomma cooking when she had been real little, before she'd run away that first time, before she'd kissed a boy and found out in one of the cruelest possible that she was a mutant.

She knew she was not alone, and there were worse "coming of age" stories. She thought of Jono who had blasted his girlfriend's legs off with their first kiss. She thought of several who had killed their loved ones when their powers had first manifested. The boy before her did not often speak of his past -- none of this batch of kids did really --, but she could easily envision him being one like herself, one whose mutant power had caused far more grief than good so early in his young life, one who already knew far too much about death and dying. It was part of the reason why'd taken to calling him Dreamy when they were not in the field, as an attempt to soften him up a little. Besides, no child so young should be called anything to do with Death.

Logan snorted from behind his paper.

"Yes, Wolverine?" Rogue asked, unable to hide her smile from her face if not her voice.

"Just thinkin'." Logan's gaze flicked over his paper at the boy. "You start takin' orders from girls this early in your life, Hotoru, an' you'll be takin' 'em fer th' rest o' yer life."

The boy blushed as red as Logan's flannel shirt. Before Hotoru could speak again, however, Rogue heard the smooth, Cajun dialect of her beloved husband chime in, "Boy should be so lucky, Logan. Trust Remy. We men get de happiest when we takin' orders from a beautiful woman." He wrapped his arms around Rogue, who thrilled, as always, at his embrace. She would never take her beloved's touch for granted; she doubted she would ever take anyone's touch for granted.

The tray was already set with the cookies she'd known would be requested, as well as napkins for each. "There ya go, dahlin'. You tell those girls they bettah keep their appetites. Lunch'll be done in about an hour more."

"Dis barbecue be smellin' good, chere," Remy spoke as Hotoru, still blushing, slipped shyly away. He snuggled his nose in her hair. "Dough not as good as you."

She giggled, a sound that still sounded strange to her own ears. She was not accustomed to being so happy. It was dangerous to be this happy, she thought. Everything always got shot to Hell whenever she found herself so filled with joy and love. But she embraced her husband nonetheless, kissing him before he could guess at the thoughts nibbling at the edges of her mind.

Valentin had already downed a glass of lemonade and rinsed his glass out before picking back up the football he'd set on the counter and tossing it squarely at Marcus' chest. The older man caught the ball with a wide, tooth-filled grin at the boy. "You sure you're already up for another round?"

"Of course, I'm sure. You guys aren't gonna get the drop on me this time."

"O' course mah baby won," Rogue nearly purred, sliding her face lovingly across Remy's stubble.

"Sounds like dat's m'cue, chere." Remy kissed her quickly, downed his glass of lemonade, and headed back after the other two who had already left.

"You know, darlin'," Logan spoke, putting down his paper, "there's no shame in learnin' to love the experience o' livin'."

Her head dropped, a deep crimson now plunging into her cheeks. "Ah know," she started to say, and she could practically feel the air shift between them. Almost wincing, she admitted, "Isn't there, though?" She looked up at Logan from underneath her shock of white bangs. "You know how it is, Ground Bear," she whispered. "Every time we start livin' good, every time everythin' starts lookin' good..."

"That's when it all falls apart. That's what th' enemies want you to think, darlin', an' that's what makes it even more important to live like we ain't got no end. Like our joy ain't got no end. You want th' kids to really learn how to lighten up? You want little Hotoru to think he stands a chance at bein' happy, maybe even actually have that chance? Then you gotta show him by livin' an' lovin' --- "

"Ah do -- "

" -- an' not worryin' all th' time."

"You're one to talk."

He grinned, pushed his chair back, stood, and snatched a cookie off of her hottest tray with lightning reflexes. He popped it in his mouth and then faced with a grin. With his grizzled cheeks full of cookie, he almost looked like an overgrown boy caught in the act. She had to smile at the sight. "I know I do, but it's like I've always told you kids. Act like I say, not like I do. Live, Rogue. For you, for th' Swamp Rat, for these kids, live an' don't be scared o' it."

"Says you. Ah still don't see you minglin' much, Ground Bear. You could've joined that football game -- "

"I still can," he said, slapping his cowboy hat down on the table and downing the remainder of his coffee, "an' I think I will." He paused in the doorway and looked back at her. "For what it's worth, darlin'?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"There's a reason I call you Moonbeam. You were like a silver light of hope an' redemption shootin' through my darkness those first few times you showed me you wanted to be my friend. I should've known better back then, should've seen you for th' kid just wantin' to help an' fit in like you were back then, just needin' to be loved. But that's th' thing." He shrugged. "I was still young in my own life as an X-Man back then, still too used to th' war."

"But we're still at war -- "

"Yeah, but we're always goin' be at war. But that's life, 'specially life when you're different, when you won't or don't or can't fit in, like us, like them." His graying head jerked toward the open door leading to the porch. Sounds of laughter drifted on the warm, Spring breeze back to them. "We win, darlin', when we don't let th' darkness win. When no matter what our enemies do, we keep lovin' an' keep enjoyin' life. You got a man out there an' kids too who need to see that in you. A whole family."

"Yeah," she said, moving over to him, "includin' you, Ground Bear. You always kept me grounded. Even when Ah wanted to freak an' flee, you always helped me see why Ah shouldn't. Why leavin' would be lettin' Mystique win."

He nodded as she embraced him. His tough hand gently cupped the back of her head as he returned her hug just as tightly as she was already hugging him. "Yeah. An' trust me when I say, darlin', by lettin' your fears that it ain't gonna last keep you from enjoyin' the happy moments in life you still let her an' others like her win."

"Then you go enjoy that ballgame, shugah, an' maybe after lunch, Ah'll come out for a round wit' y'all."

"I'm gonna hold ya to that, pumpkin," he said and winked.

She nodded. "Ah love ya, Ground Bear."

"Love you too, Moonbeam." Then he was out the door and she was left alone with her thoughts. She knew what last night had been, the anniversary of the death it had marked. Logan usually left around this time of the year. But he hadn't left them, not this time. Maybe things were changing. Rogue turned her and Remy's song on on her phone and moved to dancing and singing around the kitchen as she let the joy overtake her and worked on finishing lunch for her new family.



The End