This story was never truly finished. I knew there was more I could squeeze out of it and I wasn't satisfied with the ending. It's still only going to be friendship between the pair, but if you squint I'm sure you'll see whatever you want.

If you truly are after some Rogan romance, I have the I Heart Rogan community floating about on this website somewhere. It's bursting with romance stories.

Personally, I like a Rogue at times that's a little conflicted, a bit of a mess. Not only one that needs saving but a girl's that's slightly tough. She's not a damsel in distress, yet she has an air of vulnerability about her.

The drugs - Now it's a little too easy and convenient for the writer to have the character flush them down the toilet swearing that they'll never touch the stuff again. It's also not fun… Not that there's anything fun about taking drugs, because there isn't. It's fun to write about though.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter after it was first posted, and to those reading and reviewing over the past few months. You all gave me the kick up the backside that was needed to read through this story again, edit and then write this brand new chapter.

Stay Wide Awake

A world so dark

A world so cold

A world where only some will go

But not return, when will they learn

-Eminem

The shadows eat away at my brain, I can see them crawling up the vast timber frames and bleeding into the darkness that surrounds my body. There are countless cobwebs in the boathouse, littering the ceiling. I don't shudder, I don't even blink and I'm not a great fan of spiders.

My special cigarette hangs loosely from my lips and I inhale the sweet aroma that eases the pressure in my mind. The pain begins to evaporate and float to the rafters, I feel at peace.

Logan searched my room, confiscating anything that smelt remotely like it didn't belong. I didn't argue because he had no idea that I kept a little something up in the attic. He doesn't even know I'm here right now, I haven't seen much of him today.

Storm wanted him by her side, Bobby's parents are visiting the mansion to accompany his body back to Boston in the X-jet. She thinks the X-Men and the tutors in particular need to shed a tear and say how sorry they are. I'm supposed to be there too, to meet his parents and pass on my condolences for the loss of their lying, cheating son. I know what I need to do and I plan on doing just that.

Slowly sitting up, I smile to myself and pluck the cigarette from my lips. It's been three days since I discovered Bobby's body in the med lab and Logan's spent almost every waking moment with me. I'm not sure if he's feeling guilty or he doesn't trust me, I guess it's a mixture of both. But he can trust me, I'm a very trustworthy individual… Most of the time.

Fighting to stand to my feet, my thoughts are a jumbled mass of contradictions. There's part of me that needs to see his parents, another part wants to pretend he's still alive. There are so many different sections of my brain hammering away at my every thought, I take another deep drag and savour the taste.

I promised Storm I'd make an appearance and even though I would prefer to stay here smoking the afternoon away, I gingerly rise to my feet. The carefully folded scrap of tin foil that binds my dried green escape together is held in my hand tightly. I need to hide it somewhere safe, Logan will never look in here.

It's an idea to hide your drugs in different places around your home. You never know when they might be found and instantly flushed. I can't use my favourite piece of shrubbery anymore, it's too close to the garage.

Tripping over a loose concrete slab close to the exit, I crouch down, placing a hand on the ground to steady myself. If I can prise the slab from the earth, then I can slip the tinfoil underneath and nobody would be any the wiser.

I've been using paper for the joints, I had no other choice. This is a school, so there was plenty of plain paper lying around. My grinder was one of the first things Logan pocketed and there was nothing I could do to stop him. The sticker on the lid was a large cannabis leaf, and my pleas fell on deaf ears. He didn't believe it was only for decoration and I'd never used it before.

The fact that he can smell lies is something my brain has a hard time understanding. We have a bond and at times I think he'll look past my imperfections like a true friend. Sadly that never seems to happen, but he always tells me he's only doing his job. I hope Logan doesn't see our friendship as only that, but he denied it during the talk in the kitchen.

Smiling as the tinfoil slides perfectly into place, the slab falls with a thud and I calmly walk out of the exit, closing the door behind me. Blinking in the winter sun, I idly wonder if Storm has used her mutation to banish the snow. It's usually a sea of white this time of year and I know Bobby would have appreciated a snow ball fight in his honour.

My tatty green converse slip through the mansion grounds and I loiter by the iron fence, gazing at the road that leads to yet more expensive mansions. Knowing I can't take the joint inside with me, I smoke the remainder of my chosen sedative.

It doesn't take long to feel the affects and I've smoked several over the past hour or so. I needed to calm my nerves and I couldn't walk in there first without the pain melting away. My brain's clogged with happy thoughts and I take that as a good sign, it tells me I've made the right choice.

Stubbing the special cigarette out on an fence, I flick it out of the grounds and watch it land in the grassy verge. Wrapping my arms around myself, I glance back at the mansion deciding it's time to head back in and shown my face.

I don't know how I made it to the kitchen, but I needed to find something to disguise the smell on my clothes and hair. I'm chewing spearmint gum and spraying air freshener over my body, coughing at the stench. Sometimes I think my life could be made into a film, or maybe even a novel. I could always write an autobiography and sit outside the gates swapping hard backed copies for a single pill.

Making sure my arms are completely covered by the fabric of my hooded sweatshirt, I throw the air freshener back into the cupboard and slip out of the kitchen.

My eyes dart across the corridor and I brush a shaky hand through my long hair. I'm hearing voices all around me and I swear that somebody's watching my every move. My stomach sinks and I come to an abrupt stop outside the office. Staggering slightly and convinced the door handle just moved, I place a finger against the brass door knob and stare in fascination.

Minutes or hours might have passed by the time I snap out of my musings, I'm not sure. All I know is at one point the door opened and now everybody in the office is looking at me. I step over the threshold and dig my twitching hands deep into my sweatshirt pockets.

Refusing to meet anybody's questioning gaze, I eye the door instead and realise that Jubilee was the one that opened it. She's still not talking to me because of Gambit, and she strides past, sitting herself back on the couch beside a crying Kitty.

Storms seated at the Professor's desk, her hand grasping hold of Bobby's mom's wrist. They're both in tears and Bobby's dad has his arm draped across his wife's shoulder. My eyes flicker to the far corner of the room, Logan is leaning against the panelled wall his gaze pinned squarely on me.

I stare back at him, knowing full well he can smell only the lavender with a hint of honey blossom. My lips twitch and the urge to take this situation seriously is slowly being overthrown by my crumbling mind.

"Rogue," Storm calls, and I break away from his gaze, turning to the grieving threesome instead. "You must remember Bobby's parents."

They both turn to look at me and my shoulder begin to shake with amusement. Did I really think they were a threesome? Oh. My. God. "Yeah, I remember. They wanted nothing to do with Bobby after he came out…"

Storm gasps, her eyes turning white and she squeezes Bobby's mom's hand. "This isn't the time." She scolds, the mist clearing in her vision.

"Don't worry, Bobby isn't… Wasn't gay," I announce, the giggle erupting from my lips, "He only dumped me so he could bang her over there." Bending over, I hold my stomach and tears of laughter build in my eyes. "He was as straight as they come, and liked sex. You're not happy with him right now, are you? He's forced you to come all this way and you can't even apologise for…"

"Logan, get her out of here." Storm commands, swapping anxious looks with him.

Like he needed telling, he was already marching towards me when the laughter started.

Grabbing hold of my arm non to gently, he attempts to haul me to the door and I can't stop the laughter. It's oozing out of every pore and I can't stifle it. I need a key to lock it away or another joint… That's what I need, a smoke. He throws open the door and as I'm dragged away from the office, I glance back and shout, "I'm sorry for your loss!" at the mortified faces.

Shoving me roughly into another room, Logan slams the door shut and I hear the frame crack. That only causes another fit of giggles, causing his face to turn a further shade of crimson. I start having my doubts that he's blushing with embarrassment when he unsheathes a set of his claws and plunges his fist against the wall.

They puncture through the wallpaper and the dry wall begins to crumble, lightly dusting his boots. I bite my lower lip, desperately trying to strangle the laughter before I'm on the receiving end, but I can't control myself. I welcome the laughter because the pain is too much for me to handle. To lose somebody you cared about deeply, it's the worse pain I've ever felt.

"Sit. Your. Ass. Down." Logan orders, pointing a claw at an antique style chair and taking a threatening step in my direction when I hesitate.

In my hour of need, the laughter seems to have died away, only to be replaced by the suffocating grip of paranoia. I know what is, I know what it feels like and I can't stop my thoughts from being poisoned.

"I know what you were all doing in there." I inform him, refusing to back down and let them get away with it. He cocks an eyebrow and sheathes his claws, coming closer to me. "He's not really dead, you're all pretending. You're all trying to shock me into changing, but it won't work…"

"You proud of yourself and the way you acted in there?" He snarls, ignoring my tirade and crowding my space until I fall into the chair. "They've lost a fuckin' kid, and you walk in there with a grin on your face?" I shrug my shoulders and he narrow his eyes, his face inches from mine. "This day weren't about you and your desperate fuckin' need for attention!"

I shift in the seat, staring at the empty bookshelves that sit at the far side of the small room. There's barely enough space for Logan in here, let alone the furniture. I don't let any of his words sink in because I know this is all an act. He isn't really mad at me and Bobby isn't dead. I'm not going to sit here and listen to this crap.

Standing up, I'm immediately pushed back into the seat and set upon by one of the best actors I've ever witnessed. "Sprayin' that shit all over yourself won't fool me either." Logan growls, folding his arms over his burly chest. "One whiff of your scent and before you open those pretty little lips of yours, I damn well know what you've been doin'."

"I don't care," I mutter, my gaze scrutinizing every inch of the room. "And I'm leaving." There's something about this room that doesn't feel right and the boathouse is calling me.

Again I'm forced back into my seat by an adamantium infused, muscle bound and thoroughly pissed of mutant. "Like hell you are." Logan grunts at me darkly and guards the door with his massive frame. "You don't leave the grounds without my say so."

"I wasn't going to leave the grounds." I reply, a shuddering yawn overtaking my body, causing me to slouch in the chair and gaze at the ceiling.

Before he has the chance to respond, the door opens and a furious looking Storm strides in. "Rogue," Her voice is clipped and she places her hands on her hips. The tiredness in her eyes is instantly replaced by a resentment I never knew she possessed. "this is a school and I can only deal with so much. What you did in there was unforgivable and I won't have drugs taken under the Professor's roof."

"'Ro…"

"I'm not finished, Logan." She snaps curtly over her shoulder. I recognise the pain in her eyes as she utters the following sentence, "You're going to have to leave, Rogue."

Turning on her heels, she walks out and I take a fleeting glance at Wolverine, then giggle.

"Don't move from that chair." He growls casting a withering glare at my smile and marching after Storm.

My life really only began when I started using and experimenting with different forms of escape. I'm okay, I'm completely fine and I can leave here, that's fine too. I'll won't deal with it, I'll brush it under the carpet and find something else to kill the pain. But everything is fine, it's all perfectly fine.