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The desert was too quiet.
Not the calm quiet of early morning back at the mansion. Not the quiet after a mission when everyone collapsed into exhausted sleep.
This was ancient quiet.
Three thousand years of wind scraping over stone.
Rogue stood alone at the edge of their camp, staring across endless dunes beneath a sky that felt wrong without satellites or planes or city lights.
Somewhere out there, history was happening.
And somewhere far in the future—
Remy was dead.
She pressed her gloved fingers into the sand.
“Ah shouldn’t be here.”
The words disappeared into the wind.
Behind her, soft footsteps approached. Slow and deliberate, crunching lightly through sand.
She didn’t turn.
“Nightcrawler send you?” she asked.
“No.”
The voice was deeper. Calm.
She sighed.
“Of course it’s you.”
Magneto stopped beside her, the desert wind tugging gently at his cape.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The moon hung low above the dunes.
Finally he said, “You have not slept.”
“Neither have you.”
“That is true.”
Rogue hugged her arms around herself.
“Everyone’s actin’ like we’ve got bigger problems now,” she muttered. “Apocalypse runnin’ around as a kid, us bein’ stuck three thousand years in the past…”
She kicked at the sand.
“But none of that feels real.”
Magneto looked at her.
“What feels real?”
Her voice cracked.
“Genosha.”
The name hung between them like a wound.
Gambit dying in the ruins of Genosha.
The explosion.
The last gamble.
Rogue squeezed her eyes shut.
“Ah keep thinkin’…”
She swallowed hard.
“If Ah hadn’t gone there.”
Magneto said nothing.
The wind stirred the sand around their boots.
“Remy only went because Ah did,” she whispered. “He heard Ah was goin’ with you and decided he was comin’ too.”
Her voice trembled.
“Didn’t ask. Didn’t argue. Just gave me that crooked grin and said the party sounded more interestin’ with me there.”
She laughed weakly.
“That man had a talent for invitin’ himself.”
Her eyes lowered again.
“But if Ah hadn’t gone… he wouldn’t have either.”
Her breathing faltered.
“And then maybe—”
“Rogue.”
Magneto’s voice cut gently through the thought before it could spiral further.
His voice was gentle but firm.
Her breathing quickened.
“If Ah hadn’t gone to Genosha, he wouldn’t have been there when the attack happened.”
Magneto stepped closer, careful, like approaching a wounded animal.
“That is not how fate works.”
“Well it sure feels like it!” she snapped.
Her anger burst out suddenly.
“Ah dragged him there!”
The sand lifted around them as Magneto’s powers stirred unconsciously with his emotions.
“You did not drag him anywhere,” he said quietly.
“You didn’t know him like Ah did!”
Her voice broke.
“He followed me everywhere. Like some Cajun shadow with a stupid grin.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“And this time it got him killed.”
Silence fell again.
Magneto looked out over the desert.
“When I was young,” he said slowly, “I spent years believing that if I had made different choices… my family might have lived.”
“And?”
“And I eventually realized grief was rewriting the past into puzzles I believed I could solve.”
He turned back to her.
“But there was never a solution.”
She stared at the sand.
“But there had to be something Ah could’ve done.”
Magneto hesitated.
Then, very carefully, he placed a hand over hers.
Glove to glove.
Even through the fabric she felt the warmth.
“You loved him. You chose him,” he said.
“That is not a mistake that requires correcting.”
Her throat tightened.
For a moment she didn’t pull away.
The desert wind moved softly around them.
“I should’ve been the one who died,” she whispered.
Magneto’s hand tightened slightly.
“No.”
It wasn’t loud.
But it carried the weight of command.
“You do not get to decide that.”
She looked up at him, surprised.
His expression had softened in a way she rarely saw.
“You deserve to live,” he said quietly.
“And he chose to protect that.”
Rogue’s voice trembled.
“You talk like you knew him.”
“I knew what he meant to you.”
That hit harder than she expected.
Her shoulders sagged.
“He used to call me ‘cher’ like it was the most natural thing in the world,” she said faintly.
Magneto almost smiled.
“Yes. I remember.”
The two of them stood there beneath the ancient sky.
Rogue sniffed.
“Ah keep waitin’ for him to show up.”
“That is denial.”
She stared down at her hands.
Even through the gloves, they were clenched tight.
After a moment she forced them open.
“Ah been so angry lately,” she admitted quietly.
Her fingers curled again, knuckles stiff.
“So angry Ah couldn’t see straight.”
The desert wind shifted softly across the dunes.
“Back home… in the lab,” she continued. “Trask.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Ah grabbed him. Flew straight up.”
Her voice dropped.
“And Ah didn’t stop.”
A long pause.
“Just… let go.”
She swallowed.
Magneto didn’t flinch. Didn’t judge.
He only looked at her with a steady, quiet understanding.
“That,” he said gently, “is anger.”
No accusation. Just recognition.
Rogue let out a rough breath.
“Yeah,” she muttered. “Figured.”
She glanced at him sideways.
“You got a name for the ‘what ifs’ too?”
“Yes.”
He looked out across the dunes again.
“Bargaining.”
She groaned.
“Great.”
Magneto’s voice softened.
“It is the stage where we try to negotiate with the universe.”
“Yeah well,” Rogue muttered, “the universe ain’t returnin’ my calls.”
Something in that made him chuckle quietly.
Rogue leaned her head back and stared at the stars.
“You ever think about how he’d react to all this?” she asked.
“Being stranded in ancient Egypt?”
She nodded.
Magneto considered.
“He would likely attempt to steal something extremely valuable.”
Rogue huffed a laugh.
“Then flirt his way outta trouble.”
“Yes.”
They both fell silent again.
After a moment Rogue whispered:
“Ah miss him.”
Magneto looked at her.
There was so much pain in those words.
Carefully, he placed his arm around her shoulders.
Not possessive. Protective.
For once she didn’t resist.
She leaned slightly into him, exhausted.
“You are allowed to miss him,” he said softly.
“Grief is the price we pay for loving deeply.”
Rogue wiped her eyes again.
“Ah still ain’t ready to accept he’s gone.”
Magneto nodded.
“You will reach acceptance eventually.”
She looked up at him.
“What if Ah don’t want to?”
His voice dropped almost to a whisper.
“Then I will sit with you until you do.”
Rogue studied him for a moment.
“You care too much.”
He didn’t deny it.
The desert wind blew gently across the dunes.
“Perhaps,” he said quietly.
“But that has rarely stopped me before.”
For the first time since Genosha—
Since Remy—
Rogue didn’t feel completely alone beneath the stars.