Honest Mistakes

Scogue / PG13 / Rogue's POV

Scott comes to apologize to Rogue.

Okay...forewarnings/notes here. First, I would not want to actually see this happen in the movies. Haha I might just freak if it did. Second, the only reason I submit this to movies is because I haven't read the comics enough to write a fic based on them. Third, this is slightly A/U...mainly because it pertains to no specific timeline, and Jean/Phoenix doesn't play into this either. Fourth, I've made Rogue 18 here. Scott? For all I care we can still say he's 30. It doesn't bother me.

No flames please!

"Oh god…"

The burning sensation behind my eyelids hadn't died yet. I don't know how he lives like this… The immense pressure in the back of my head, and god…so much pain.

I couldn't open my eyes. Because I knew that if I opened my eyes, the room would be toast, literally, within a matter of seconds. My eyes had been changed into lethal weapons…more or less on accident. I don't know how this had all started…or at least the details were blurry.

Although as I think back on this, lying on my bed, curled towards the wall in the fetal position, I felt as if I needed to cry. Lo and behold, the tears would not come, but my throat burned as it did whenever I cried. I lied there, sobbing dryly into the sheets as my body only curled tighter.

It had been a mistake. An honest mistake.

I didn't regret it though. I merely feared the consequences. However, I learned something new from all of this.

At least someone wasn't afraid of me.

---

So it was only slightly past noon on the late summer day. I was on my bed, dressed not to be touched, not to be bothered. A flimsy tank top and little pajama shorts. It was the weekend. I was allowed to dress lazily if I so chose to do so. The door was shut, and besides the undying light filtering in from outside, the only other light source was the dim glow of the laptop on my bed. I'd told myself that I was going to upload the dozens upon dozens of pictures that I'd had on that old digital camera of mine… I don't think I'd hooked it up to the computer in over a year.

The loading was going slow as hell. However the knock on the door, despite its low volume, made me jump out of my skin.

"Who is it?" I called, almost sing-songish. The door was unlocked anyway.

The visitor didn't bother to reply. I heard the knob turn and the door swung inward. I didn't bother to look to see who it was, but I was quite surprised at the voice that accompanied the figure.

"Hey, Rogue." It was Scott. Now that was a shocker.

I knew my brow had creased in perplexity. Why? Well maybe it was because of the simple fact that Scott Summers and I hardly ever spoke to one and other, let alone outside class. Yet I'd always known something was there between us, because subconsciously he was always looking out for me, in a very similar way as Logan did. Except Scott was different. He cared about my welfare, but maintained the tough-guy theatrics when we went out on missions. That made me smile.

"Need somethin'?" I asked, my interest in his unannounced visit rising.

He strode over to the side of the bed and asked lightly, "Can I sit here?" I nodded as I reluctantly sat up while simultaneously closing the laptop. I had an odd feeling that he was here to lecture me.

"I just wanted to apologize," he started.

"For what?" I was even more confused now.

"The danger room session," he admitted, almost guiltily.

I looked away, eyes narrowed as I searched my lofty mind. Danger room? My eyes then widened as the memory came back. "Oh…oh!" I replied, almost laughing at myself. A pause followed, and I looked to him through the corners of my eyes. "Don't worry about it," I smiled, "it's not like it was your fault, anyway." I'd blown the incident off already myself; why worry about it anymore? Although, at the time, it had been embarrassing.

What had taken place in the danger room? Well it was only a few days ago, and myself, Bobby, Kitty, Peter, Logan, Scott, Jean, and Storm had all decided to take a training session, just to sharpen our group skills. Typical session: level 8 (due to Logan's persistent arguing about raising the level from 6), basic street-scene. Flaming cars, smoky air that made your lungs burn almost pleasantly, and even a sentinel or two to top it off.

I'd been tromping around with Scott and Peter at the time, both of which were giving me unnecessary battle pointers. If I couldn't fend for myself at 18, then we had definite problems. Anyways, I'd been walking along with them, when all of a sudden there was an explosion at my feet. I'd screamed and fallen back, a headache ripping through my skull, and rocks and dust raining down around me. I gagged for a bit, and when my vision cleared up, I'd realized I'd fallen on someone. I pushed my hand against the figure's shoulder, propping myself up slightly higher to get a clearer view, and that's when I felt the color flood into my cheeks.

I'd fallen on Scott. Or rather, I'd fallen on him, and coincidentally was straddling him.

"Oh god," I breathed, throwing a hand to my face, "I'm sorry.."

I could hear him chuckle. That's when I almost literally jumped off of him, and then out of courtesy offered my gloved hand to him to help him up. He took my hand and said quietly, "It's alright; it was an accident."

That, however, only made my face burn more. And when I finally regained my sense of balance, I looked off to the side and saw Peter staring at me. Not gawking, and no where near admiration either, but with an eyebrow raised, he was looking directly at me.

I mouthed angrily, "What? I fell!"

He smirked. "Sure."

"I did!" I yelled back.

"Why are you getting defensive, then?" Peter retorted as he walked away, cutting off any possible comeback I could have thrown back.

And it ended there. After that, I'd fled to my room to avoid any possible discussion or questioning about it. I didn't know if Kitty or Bobby, or even if Jean had known, but I didn't want to stick around to find out.

---

And today, Scott had come back to apologize. I felt awful all over again. So when he put his arm, which was protected by a worn jacket, around my shoulders, I returned the gesture by hugging him around the middle.

We'd never been close. I felt it to be a real shame, because I quite enjoyed his company. And despite his irrelevant flaws, Scott was a pretty good guy, and pretty nice on the eyes. I liked him. And just by taking a guess, I think he did too.

I could feel his fingers raking gently though my hair. It'd been a long time since anyone had done that. Mostly it was just a pat on the head, or a chin on my head or shoulder. But fingers going through my hair felt comforting. Made me feel slightly more real. Our legs brushed against one and other while we just sat on the edge of the bed, and instinctively I pulled away, only to realize he was wearing jean pants. Not that I'd ever seen the man in shorts anyway…but it was merely instinct for me.

After my sudden movement, I felt embarrassed. I hadn't pulled away entirely, but I had moved abruptly. My eyes wandered to his face without moving my own, and I saw that he was smiling.

Why is he here? Is he just trying to tease me or what? I thought almost bitterly, my paranoia getting the better of me. Our embrace broke, and one of his hand lingered on my back. We sat there for a while before either of us said anything.

"You're a good kid," he mused.

Kid? Me, a kid? I'm sorry, I've got a chest now, and a driver's license, buddy. I think I surpassed 'kid' a long time ago. "Oh, I'll show you 'kid,'" I said, giving him a 'get real' look. He turned around and gave me a challenging glance. No way in hell I'd back down now.

I guessed that I'd have about five seconds before my powers would really kick in. So what damage could I do in five seconds?

I turned to him, and as his lips showed a smirk, I lunged up and ferociously kissed those lips that showed disbelief. When I looked up at him between the touches, I think he was more shocked than anything, so I continued. His hands skirted around my sides, although they avoided contact with my skin. My arms ran around his neck, and my fingers carelessly entangled in his hair. I made sure there was no more contact than necessary. The only place where we touched was fleetingly on the lips.

The five seconds had passed. Again I looked up at him, trying to pry though the dark glasses, but as far as I could tell he was alright. Now the touches became more passionate rather than forced.

What the hell was I thinking? Passionate? God no. This was about proving him wrong.

Except I knew I'd leapt in over my head when we both happened to fall onto the bed. He was dressed. I basically had enough clothing on to be considered 'covered,' or 'acceptable enough to walk around during breakfast.' My skin shuddered. Suddenly my thoughts began leaping ahead fearfully. If I took his mutation, we'd both be in bad shape.

I think he became slightly aware of it too, because one of his hands was around my shirt at my waist, while the other balanced on the sheets. His legs brushed between mine, and I, through undiscovered instinct, curled one leg around him.

What the hell is wrong with me? How did we even get here? Oh right. Because I had to prove that I wasn't a 'kid.' I thought remorsefully.

Our contact was becoming greater, and the breaks fewer. Suddenly I broke abruptly, feeling a surge of emotion flooding my own thoughts. Not only was I taking his mutation, but I was channeling his thoughts. No..nonono…make it stop… I thought, wanting nothing to do with Scott's personal life. Then I felt him go rigid, and a sudden pain in the back of my head caused me to jump away from his figure with great difficulty. Scott fell to the ground with a rather awkward thud, and then the pain exploded in my eyes. I squeezed the lids shut forcibly, and then grit my teeth as I realized how close I'd just come to going too far.

I liked Scott, but I don't think either of us meant for it to go that far.

And at that point, I hoped like hell the door was shut. With eyes closed, I scanned through the recent history in my mind. Scott had opened it, and no one had closed it.

"Damn it," I swore, now beginning to shake.

I had been that close. That close to screwing so many things up. Fear fed by adrenaline flooded into my system as I curled up beside the wall. A control freak, and a freak who was afraid of control had just lost any and all control she'd had.