Upon arriving home from school, the young girl was not met at the door of her house. She let herself in, short of breath. Although they were in the middle of a heat wave, she wore a black hooded jacket (hood perpetually up); miniature black boots toughened from wear; blue jeans and black gloves. Because of the extreme temperature, she had been permitted to wear a short-sleeved t-shirt under her jacket. It was dark blue.
The front hall was wondrously bleak and cool after the pressure cooker of her elementary school. With a grateful sigh she removed her jacket and peeled off her gloves. Her hands were alarmingly white and sweaty after stewing for hours inside her gloves. The thumbs and forefingers were tagged with rings, each one a birthday gift. She unscrewed them from each digit and slipped them into her jeans pocket.
Then her boots. House rules dictated that no shoes should be worn inside the home. In a shoe rack next to the front door were five pairs of shoes, all hers.
Walking past her bedroom, she pulled off her jeans, balled them up and kicked them through the doorway. She ventured inside, kicking her jeans under the desk. She found a pair of loose shorts which she wore for decency (an important house rule) and yanked them on. She would only be allowed to dress in shorts for a few hours, until the only other member of her family arrived home.
Passing the hall table (where four working telephones sat) and the door to the only other bedroom (which was always locked. Always), she entered the kitchen. She splashed her face, arms and neck with cold water from the tap. Then she filled a glass and stood in the centre of the kitchen, drinking thirstily.
Thank God it was Wednesday. The girl only attended school three days a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays were given over to work. It was only a few years ago it had started to be called 'work' rather than 'private lessons', so she figured she must be getting very good. For hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays she trained- kickboxing, gymnastics and martial arts. Upon moving to this house, the entire basement (and it was a huge one) had been converted into a training area specially equipped for her work.
She never expected to laze around cramming for tests or watching daytime TV on working days. She had to get all her homework finished beforehand and Heaven help her if it wasn't. Yet another house rule- while working, she had to keep on top of her schoolwork. And television? That was for her free time that she got each day, after homework and before dinner. She had just enough time to watch two shows per day. Buffy the Vampire Slayer (which she'd been watching for about a year and a half at her young age) and Daria, which was a new one.
She didn't read in her free time. She read before bedtime each night, to help her dream. She read at weekends for something to do. And early in the morning, long before breakfast, she might open a book. It helped her get through the day.
... Which reminded her. Homework time.
She spread out her homework on the kitchen table. She felt safer in the kitchen when she was at home. It was bigger. You could see if anyone was coming down either of the halls and it was only a short sprint to the back door. Even though it was still daylight, she went through the whole house, turning on every light. Returning to the kitchen, she poured herself some milk and tipped up a packet of cookies onto a plate. Her favourite food. Then she sat and did her homework, and by the time it was done she still had a few cookies to spare.
Hmm. She was still alone in the house. She wondered where her mother was, she was normally home by now.
Reluctantly, she retired to the laundry room. Opening the cleaning closet she unveiled the TV set. Again, it was house rules (and snobbery on her mother's part, she privately thought) that said the TV should be kept inside a closet when not in use. She procured a chair and sat in it cross-legged, tuning in just as the Daria theme song began to play.
It grew dark at the end of Angel (which she only ever watched when her mother was late home). The temperature dropped, but mosquitos still found their way into the house, and she slapped them away angrily. Where was she? Was it fair to leave her alone like this? Who else would she talk to if not for her mother?
When she was moody, she didn't eat. So she didn't heat herself up anything to eat even though she was perfectly capable of doing it. She considered having a shower or perhaps getting in some practice for work tomorrow, but the fact was she didn't feel like locking herself away in any one room in an empty house. Even one with all the lights on.
She went to check that the back door was locked again and leaned against it, looking out through the glass into the small courtyard. There was a hidden gate that led out to the backalley, just one of the secret escape routes in the house.
There was a crash.
She started and looked back in horror at the corridor that led right the way through the house, from front door to back. She could dimly see the front door swinging wide open.
It hadn't been locked. She hadn't locked the front door. What kind of total imbecile didn't lock the front door?
Frantically, she made her way to the kitchen and hauled open the cutlery drawer, removing a large knife. Now armed, she started to move to the front door. Her back was pressed against the wall.
A loud creak emanated out of the hallway behind her and as she looked to see where it had come from, all the lights went out. "Oh, God- if there's someone there," she fearfully called out, "you'd do well to leave right now. My mother'll be home soon and anyway, Ah'm armed."
... Her shallow breathing seemed unpleasantly amplified in this darkness.She gulped and her toes curled. "GET OUTTA MAH HOUSE!" she shrieked. The silence echoed endlessly.
Finally, the warning bells in her head stopped ringing. With a long sigh, she went to lock the front door.
She went flying as someone stuck their foot through her bedroom door and tripped her up. The girl was relieved, in a way- at least now she knew what to expect. Unfazed as the intruder exited, she lunged from her position on the floor to stab them in the ankle.
Smoothly, the burglar kicked her knife right out of her hand, and as she nursed her hurt fingers she stared in horror at the bright blade of the knife flashing way out of her reach. Reduced to what she truly was- a scared child- she opened her mouth and screamed.
Nothing recognisable, at first. But it turned into words- "No! No, no, no, no!" She curled into a ball on the floor and prepared herself to die.
The intruder laughed. Tossing back his head, he- he...
Shifted. From navel upwards, and from navel downwards, her mother shapeshifted back to her usual form- that of a blue-skinned woman with red hair and slight fangs. She never questioned this ability, it was just something her mother could do. A trick she was always playing.
Nodding curtly, she said the girl's name in greeting. "Rogue..."
Rogue looked up at her mother's statuesque frame. The urgency and fear in her eyes stilled and disappeared, and in a halted voice said, "Raven."
"Rogue, you may be very young but it's no excuse for leaving the front door unlocked."
Scowling, the girl retorted, "Raven, you may be mah mother and teacher but that's no excuse for scarin' the crap outta me for no good reason." One of Raven's favourite 'lessons' was to sneak into the house through an unlocked door or window in the guise of a thief or murderer. She hadn't done it in about a year.
"I had plenty of reason. Despite all your better judgement, you left the front door open and you left yourself vulnerable to outside attack."
"Ah forgot, OK? Stop bossin' me around, woman." Rogue tried to push past her mother into her bedroom.
"You address me as Raven or ma'am. Or have you forgotten that too?"
Rogue glared and finally said. "It was stinkin' hot today and Ah didn't wanna go to school, but you made me." She ducked neatly under Raven's arm and darted into her bedroom, nearly slamming the door on her mother's fingers.
"I wasn't expecting this kind of rebellion for a few more years, Rogue." Raven yelled through the keyhole. She left Rogue alone to cool off...
About forty-five minutes later, Rogue was curled up on her bed reading a magazine. She'd changed into her pyjamas. She sat right up as a fly buzzed under the door. "Ain't foolin' me, Raven," she said softly, and without blinking she lobbed a book at the fly.
The fly buzzed in alarm and disappeared to the foot of Rogue's bed, where it shifted back into the form of her adoptive mother. "Ta-da," deadpanned Raven, flicking back her hair and casting a critical eye over the girl's room.
Pictures of vampires, gothic rock singers and creepy mountain ranges were tacked up on the drab walls, alongside postcards from all the places they had visited in the time they had lived together- some in Europe, most in America. There was a closet with only a few articles of clothing hanging up- the rest were either packed away into boxes or strewn all over the floor. The black curtains at the barred window were drawn.
To make peace, Raven made her way over to the desk and upon finding a lighter imamongst all the junk, lit each of the candles that were there. Then she tossed the lighter to Rogue, who smirked and lit the candles beside her bed and on the windowsill. Rogue preferred candles to electric lights.
As Rogue lit candles, Raven picked up a grey t-shirt with a black flaming skull emblem on the front. "I shouldn't let you buy decorated t-shirts," mused Raven. "They attract too much attention- especially this particular motif, on a girl your age."
"Ah like it."
"Just don't buy anything with a swastika on it or we'll both be in it deep, Rogue," smirked Raven, taking a look at the nametag sewn inside the neck. It said DARKHOLME in black letters and underneath was a telephone number.
"Deal."
"How was school?" asked Raven somewhat maternally, sitting down on a box full of clothes. She let Rogue buy all her own clothes, putting money into her childish hands and simply following her about while Rogue silently selected whatever she needed, but would often buy her shirts or shoes as peace offerings. Also, if they had to leave a place in a hurry there often wasn't time to pack much in the way of clothes, so Rogue had already lost many hundreds of articles of clothing.
"That prison!" said Rogue scornfully. "The sooner Ah graduate, the better."
When Rogue had been adopted by Raven, she had taken her surname- Darkholme, obviously. A long time ago she had used to be called something else, but Raven had legally changed her name to Rogue when she was five. What had started out as a kind of codename had eventually become her actual name. It hadn't been easy, but by the time she was six the girl answered only to Rogue Darkholme.
"You might have to wait awhile. So have you made any friends among the other children? Any of the girls, the boys?"
"Nope. Besides, Ah hate boys. 'Specially boys who wear glasses an' sit at the front of the class. Same with the girls."
Raven smirked. "Perfect." She didn't bother keeping it quiet that she didn't wish for Rogue to make friends. Rogue had been taught to regard other children with contempt, suspicion, even hatred and fear. "But you are all right at school? The children aren't teasing you at all?"
"No."
"I'll go and fix you some dinner." Raven stood up to leave.
"Ah can do it mahself."
"Fine. YOU go and fix you some dinner."
"Ah don't want to."
Raven knew better than to push it. "Rogue, I'm sorry I startled you."
"Excuse me?"
"You're excused," sneered Raven.
"Somethin' weird's goin' on. You've asked me how school was, offered to fix me dinner and apologised for scarin' me in the space of a few minutes. Somethin' is definitely up."
"I can't pull the wool over your eyes, can I?"
"No. Now spill, why are ya being so nice t'me?"
Raven took a deep breath. Completely straight-faced, she asked, "Rogue, how would you like to come with me and visit one of my friends in Caldecot County for a day or two?"
"Ya mean it? Ya really wanna take me with you?" Rogue frowned. This was very odd.
"Yes." Raven stood up and came to sit next to her daughter, putting a careful arm around her shoulders. "I really would like you to meet my good friend. It would be an honour."
Rogue giggled. "Raven, you don't have any friends."
"Charming," said Raven sarcastically, giving Rogue's hair a tug. Rogue giggled with her hand over her mouth.
"This ain't a business trip, is it?"
"No."
"What's your friend's name?"
"Irene. Irene Adler. Out of everyone I know, I trust her the most."
"Apart from me," Rogue reminded her.
"Of course. You're my kin, my only child. I trust you with my life."
"And if this WAS a business trip, Ah'd be fully informed, right?"
"Right. This is purely for pleasure."
"Ah can't remember the last time we took a real vacation, Raven."
"It'll be a short one," said Raven hastily. In an odd voice, she said, "You'll only need to pack a few pieces of clothing."
"OK. When are we leaving?"
"Tomorrow."
Rogue's eyes widened. "Wow. Ya'll don't let the grass grow under your feet, do ya?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
Rogue nodded. Gruffly, she said, "You're a good mother, Raven. Ah'm sorry Ah overreacted like that."
"I can see I've trained you well. You very nearly stabbed me in the leg."
"Ah was aimin' for your ankle."
Raven didn't seem to be listening. "Raven?" asked Rogue. "Somethin' wrong?"
"Absolutely nothing. ...Rogue?"
"Yeah?"
Raven tightened her arm around her child's shoulders. "When you are grown up, Rogue, you will be so vital to me and to what I do. My organisation's founder can barely wait to meet you in person, because he knows how well you are doing with your training."
"Work," corrected Rogue, yawning.
"Of course, Rogue. Your very, very important work." She did something she practically never did, and stroked Rogue's long hair. Then Raven got up to leave.
"... Mother?" called Rogue softly, almost hoping Raven wouldn't hear her. Least of all because it was only when she felt very warmly towards her parent that she actually called her 'Mother'.
Raven turned, a little surprised. She said nothing.
"Ah'm important and vital now, right? Like, even though Ah can't help you with your work?"
Silence. Then- "Completely important and vital. I chose you because of your special gifts and qualities. You'll save the world one day, Rogue. Save it for... people like us." The door closed.
Rogue lay back, blissful in the thought that her mother must love her even though she couldn't help her yet.
Which brought on the nagging question. Would Raven care about her even if Rogue couldn't help her at all?
... Rogue didn't want to think about it. She fell asleep.
The next afternoon, around six PM, Rogue shouldered the small backpack she'd been told to pack for the trip. Raven had advised her not to bring any of her belongings except her clothes and toiletries. "We'll take you out shopping when we get to Irene's house, mmm? Get you some treats."
"Yeah. Ah need incentive, anyway, to be cooped up with old ladies all day long."
"Watch your back when you talk like that, Rogue," said Raven in mock irritation. She went to hit her child up the back of the head.
To her surprise, Rogue caught her hand split seconds before it connected with her head. "Watch your own back," smirked Rogue, poking Raven hard in the side. Raven nodded in approval and went outside to start the car, shifting as she walked through the front door.
Rogue looked around the dark, elegant house she'd lived in almost a year. She looked forward to having her eleventh birthday there. Rogue smiled and jumped as she heard Raven start beeping the horn from outside.
"Yeah, Ah'm comin'!" yelled Rogue, and left what she sarcastically called Darkholme Manor without a backwards glance.
... It was night when Raven's car pulled up outside Irene Adler's house. Irene sat on the front porch and hearing the car arrive, she made her way down the front steps with the help of her walking stick. She wound up standing a short distance from Raven.
"Raven. How are you?" Irene touched Raven's arm to check she was really there.
"I'm fine," said Raven.
"It's been so long..."
"I know. I'm sorry to intrude."
"No, it's no inconvenience to me. Don't even worry about it." Irene hesitated. "Do you have the girl?"
"Mmm. She's asleep in the backseat."
"What should I call her?"
"Rogue. It's her name, after all."
Rogue was awakened by the sound of the door opening and Raven pulling her into a sitting position. "Rogue, wake up. We're here."
Rogue rubbed at her eyes as Raven helped her out of the car. "M-Mother?" she murmured.
Raven winced and released Rogue's elbow from her grip. "This is Irene Adler, Rogue. Shake hands nicely and say hello."
"There's no need for formalities." Irene smiled. "Let's go inside. The guest room's been made up for you, Rogue."
Crickets chirped in the bushes as Rogue was left to take in their bags. Raven had one- a very small one because she didn't need to take any clothes- and Rogue had her backpack. Rogue picked up both (she was strong for her age) and wandered inside. After she'd put Raven's bag in the living room she left the women to their conversation in the kitchen and with only a little bit of exploring found what was to be her room for the time they were staying with Irene.
It was small and tidy and didn't smell like anything in particular. The carpet was thin and grey and the walls were white. The single bed in the corner was made up with new white sheets and had a new black blanket decorated with white stars folded at its far end. There was a closet, a side table beside the bed with a lamp on it, a desk with a chair and a small bookshelf.
"See ya in the morning," she bellowed, changing into her nightclothes and crawling into bed.
After a quick breakfast the next morning Raven (having turned into a woman who could have been Rogue's grandmother- she usually took a female shape when she was taking her daughter out) took Rogue shopping at the local mall. Not only for clothes, but for shoes and books and posters and new schoolthings. Rogue normally enjoyed being taken out and spoilt rotten. Raven often bought her the odd thing just to keep her going, a pair of jeans and a paperback novel if she was really in a good mood. But often if Rogue came along on a shopping trip Raven would show a vicious kind of pleasure out of buying things for her child. But she simply stamped grimly around flourishing credit cards at Rogue's whim.
"Thanks for takin' me shopping, Raven," said Rogue sincerely as Raven drove them back to Irene's.
"Huh?"
"Ah said thank you for takin' me out today."
Raven let out a long breath. "Rogue, I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you with Irene for a day or two."
Rogue froze. "Ah knew it. Ah should've guessed when you bought me all that stuff," said Rogue flatly, gesturing to the sea of shopping bags in the backseat.
"Rogue-"
"You said we were here on vacation."
"I know, I did say that and I want for us to be able to enjoy each other's company-"
"Fat chance."
Raven inhaled sharply. "Fine. Whatever."
When they arrived home Raven and Irene holed up in the living room for ages while Rogue boredly looked over all her new things. She frowned when Irene called, "Rogue!"
Rogue left her bedroom and found the living room door still shut tightly. It stayed shut for a few minutes more until Raven came to open it.
"We're ready for you now, Rogue," said Raven softly. As Rogue entered the room, Raven placed a hand on her shoulder. Rogue flinched it off in a second- partly because she was unused to being touched, and partly because she was getting a weird vibe from her adoptive mother. It made her feel hostile.
The furniture had been pushed up against the walls. Three chairs were left in the open space- two on the sidelines, one in the middle. Irene occupied one of the side chairs. Hearing Rogue enter the room, she smiled in encouragement.
Someone else stood there. A short, unkempt man fiddling with the folds of his clothes. Rogue disliked him already. Not being one to mince words, she asked, "Who the hell is this?"
"This is Mr Wyngarde," said Raven in a guarded voice. She glared at Mr Wyngarde, who said nothing.
"Hel-" Rogue said grudgingly, but stopped. Raven wasn't even bothering to tell Rogue to say hello. She directed her to the chair and motioned that she should sit down. Rogue sat tensely, her knees together, her fists balanced precariously on them.
Irene spoke. "We need you to sit very still and try not to move, Rogue."
"Ah go on record as not liking this," Rogue said in an undertone she knew each of the adults could hear.
The tapping of Irene's stick. "Rogue, honey. This is just something to make the separation from y- from Raven easier."
She stared up at them. The three grown-ups were crowding her in. She had a weird feeling about this... "Fine."
"That's a girl," said Irene, patting Rogue on the shoulder. She watched as the women took seats and frowned as Irene found Raven's hand and laced their fingers together. Displays of affection between adults were alien to her.
"Close your eyes and relax." He spoke roughly. Wyngarde stepped forward. He placed his scruffy hands on either side of her head, pushing his fingers up through her hair.
Rogue felt a thrill of apprehension that she couldn't explain. She shied away slightly, but he kept his grip. "What are you-"
Pain exploded from her temples. There was nothing fine or precise about this procedure. She tried to bear it, tried to rationalise it but she was a child and the only thing she could register was that it hurt. Her eyes snapped open and she shrieked in agony, twisting in her seat and trying to escape.
He kept his grip on her. A Rogue nobody could see, the Rogue inside her narrowed her eyes and with all the strength in her mind she tried to throw him off.
Not literally, of course. He might not have looked it, but he was a lot stronger than she was physically. And she didn't even succeed to mentally throw him off, because once again he was stronger. But Rogue gave Mastermind one hell of a shock as he discovered a ten-year-old ALMOST able to take him on.
Gasping in pain, Rogue kicked out at him and felt her foot stop in midair. Her hands jarred as they clung fruitlessly to the sides of the chair, which she almost tipped over as her feet drummed on the floor.
The effort in trying, body and mind, to push him away exhausted and even further injured Rogue. She couldn't keep at it and simply wailed in pain.
A sudden shout. "Stop it. Stop it! Wyngarde, you're hurting her! Leave her alone!" A clatter of someone actually tipping over their chair, and Raven roughly shoved Wyngarde out of the way. Rogue cried in pain and Raven put her arms around her.
"Raven," bawled Rogue. Raven hugged her, murmuring.
Wyngarde was breathing heavily from where he lay, sprawled on the ground. "You're a fool, Mystique."
Raven glowered. "Fuck you, Wyngarde." She looked at Irene. "I'm not doing this any more."
Irene said sadly, "Raven, it's not your place."
"The hell it's not!" barked Raven. "I'm not putting her through this."
"You never meant to go through with this," Wyngarde seethed, standing up. "It's been a wasted journey for me, Destiny. She's taught the girl psychic defence of some kind."
Raven had managed to regain her composure remarkably quickly. "I did no such thing. The only thing of the kind Rogue knows is self-hypnosis, to block pain."
"She's lying!" shouted Wyngarde.
Rogue's eyes fluttered open and she frowned a little. Wyngarde had let something slip when he'd tried to force his way into her mind... something he shouldn't have...
It was a lie! It had to be a lie... Raven wouldn't do something like that.
No. She would.
"YOU'RE lying!" she screamed suddenly, silencing the adults. She pushed Raven away and jumped up, stars whirling in her eyes. In her mother's eyes, in that moment... in a terrible sort of way, Rogue was magnificent.
Raven said nothing.
"You're leaving me here with Irene, aren't ya?" accused Rogue.
"Yes," said Raven quietly.
"You don't want me any more."
Irene coughed. "Rogue, of course Raven-"
"Stay out of this," snapped Raven to her friend before turning back to her daughter. "I didn't say that, Rogue."
"But why?" asked Rogue weakly.
"It has become an inconvenience for me to care for you and still work. The cause's leader thinks it's best for you to remain with Irene for a time."
"Raven, Ah'm... Ah'm your daughter. Ah'm..." Rogue didn't dare suggest that she ought to come first.
"You'll still be my daughter while you're living with Irene."
"But Ah don't need Irene to look after me," muttered Rogue, eyes downcast. "Ah need you."
"Mystique, Magneto has no use for the girl yet. Until her powers emerge she's a thorn in your side. You know that. Destiny and I know that. Even the girl knows it," mumbled Wyngarde.
Raven whirled around. "Shut UP, Wyngarde. I understand. I'm trying to salvage the situation."
"Thorn in ya side?" repeated Rogue softly. "Ah'm not... Ah'm- a thorn in your side?" No-one heard her. Nobody even tried to hear.
Raven sighed loudly, biting at her lip. She massaged her temples for a few seconds before speaking. "This has gone far enough. Irene... we'd better leave Rogue alone with Mastermind."
"Are you sure?" asked Irene anxiously.
Rogue looked up, eyes full of fury.
"Ah am not a thorn. Or a- a situation. Ah'm your kid. And Ah'm TIRED of you screwin' me over! Ah'm tired of you orderin' me around and you lecturin' me and your rules that don't make any sense! Ya said ya trusted me more than anyone else in the world. Were ya lyin' then too?" yelled Rogue.
"Be quiet," said Raven coldly, hugging herself against Rogue's tirade.
"You don't want me any more. You don't love me and you never will! You won't let me love you and Ah don't wanna try any more! Ah'm sick of you anyway Raven, you stupid psycho bitch! Ah hate you!"
Flatly, Raven spoke. "You don't mean that." She stood up and moved toward Rogue.
"Get away from me!" shrilled Rogue, pushing up her sleeve and holding out her skinny arm like a shield. "Ah mean it! Ah'll really do it!"
"You'll do what? This?" snapped Raven, grabbing Rogue's arm roughly. Rogue's jaw dropped. Raven laughed nastily, but there were tears in her eyes. "Is that what you'll do, Rogue?"
Rogue wrenched her arm free and glared up at her mother.
"Don't look so shocked. I doubt you ever really believed the skin disease lie."
"AH HATE YOU!" Rogue fled the room.
Rogue couldn't believe what had just happened as she flung herself into her little room. She tried to slam the door three times but it kept swinging open forcefully, so she just crawled underneath the covers on her bed, curled into a ball and cried.
Finally she emerged, sniffling. Rogue turned off the light and pulled off her trousers, lobbing them under the desk as she usually did. It was so hot and uncomfortable that night.
Rogue couldn't believe such a thing could happen to her. She couldn't trust anyone, not even Raven. Raven, who was meant to love her no matter what. Raven, who was supposed to care for her. Raven, who didn't her any more.
Nobody ever seemed to want Rogue. Not the kids at school, not the teachers, not even her own mother...
"Rogue?"
Rogue lay very still and pretended to be asleep.
Raven stood in the doorway, letting out a whistling breath through her teeth. "Oh, Rogue."
As she stepped through the door, she shapeshifted. Rogue couldn't be sure what into until Raven sat down on the side of her bed and Rogue, from under lowered eyelids, caught a glimpse.
Raven's hair was auburn with white streaks like Rogue's, and her eyes grey-green. Her skin was pale and her form slight and lovely. She'd become a woman in her middling thirties. In all the years they had been together, they'd never looked more like mother and daughter. Seeing her face, in spite of herself, Rogue had to admit that even though she felt angry and betrayed, she'd never loved Raven more.
She sat down on the bed, drumming her elegant fingers on the black bedspread. Then, clearing her throat, she spoke.
"Rogue, you are very important to me. There is no reason to feel alone or afraid. You'll probably only be with Irene a year or so- and she is a good woman, she'll take excellent care of you. I wouldn't have chosen anyone else. She is a great friend of mine and for her, caring for you will be an honour and a privilege. It would be for anyone who truly understood our cause. I'm leaving money so you can continue with lessons- martial arts, I think. You'll only do kickboxing and gymnastics for another year at the most, we need you to concentrate on your studies."
Finally, Rogue spoke. "Ah still don't want for you to leave me, Raven."
"I know." Raven didn't seem surprised that Rogue was awake. She sighed. "You'll forget me, Rogue. I'm sorry it had to be this way. Remember as long as you can, you're still my daughter. You're still a Darkholme. But for awhile, I'll have to pretend I don't know you."
Rogue turned over onto her back and stared at Raven- into the manufactured eyes Raven had made like Rogue's own. In a low voice so old and so young it chilled Raven, she said, "Don't do this. Ah don't want you to, and you don't want to either. Ah don't want you to pretend you don't know me. Ah don't want to stay here alone."
Raven shut her eyes in frustration and stood up, her back to Rogue. Rogue sat right up, eyes wide in fear. Irene Adler and Jason Wyngarde stood in the doorway. "Raven," she whimpered.
She knew in her heart they would come after her. Rogue cursed herself- she should have run for it, she should have gotten the hell out of the house while the adults were still conferring. Oh, no...
Her mother turned around and came to sit beside her on the bed. She put her arms around Rogue as though she was much younger. "I need you to relax."
"Mother..."
As Wyngarde's eyes glowed unnaturally, Raven smoothed her child's messy, long hair. "Sleep and dream and relax, Rogue. One day you will realise who and what you truly are. You will be so important to many millions of people. When that day comes, I'll come back for you."
Rogue suddenly felt very sleepy. She could barely keep her head up as Raven lay her down on the bed and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.
"Don't do this..." she mumbled, her eyes closing.
... Dimly, she heard Raven reach the door. "Why am I even bothering?" she heard Raven murmur to Irene in defeat. "After Mastermind's finished with her, she'll have no memory of me."
"Precisely. Which is why you shouldn't worry yourself. She'll have no memory."
No memory.
No memory of any of it.
No memory at all...
Both Raven and Jason Wyngarde were gone long before Rogue awoke the next day. All of Rogue's old clothes had been disposed of. She even had a new toothbrush and hairbrush sitting on the table, waiting for her. The only thing from her old life that still remained was the t-shirt she'd slept in.
Irene sat in her armchair, brooding on the position she had now found herself in. She heard movement in the doorway and looked up.
"Rogue? Are you there, honey?"
"Ah- um, Ah think..." stammered Rogue, hugging something grey to her chest. She was fully dressed.
"Call me Irene. What's wrong?"
"Ah think somethin' bad happened yesterday," said Rogue tearfully, looking down at the t-shirt in her arms. "But Ah can't remember right. It keeps gettin' mixed up in mah head." She burst into tears.
"Oh, Rogue. Come here." Irene opened her arms to the girl. All of Rogue's insecurities disappeared and as if it were the most normal thing in the world she seemed to wade into Irene's arms. She dropped the t-shirt on the floor and as the blind woman held the sobbing child Irene surreptitiously kicked the t-shirt away.
In the midday light the nametag at the neck seemed to glow. It had been the word therein- the word DARKHOLME- which had set Rogue off crying. She felt so relieved at being hugged and comforted she forgot all about it, and concentrated on the arms holding her as she cried.
-----
DISCLAIMER: None of the X-Men belong to me. If they did, I would have pre-Morlock Evan, Pyro and Pietro die in tragic (snort) accidents, pair up Rogue and Gambit IMMEDIATELY, get Scott and Jean to just frickin' hold hands or something for a few seconds because their 'We love each other, we're just too shy to show it' is getting annoying, pair up Rahne and Roberto, pair up Bobby and Jubes, make an X-Men Evolution movie... Uh, anyway, I am a sad individual who, despite being in her teens, feels that Rogue is a Tragic Heroine on a par with Anna Karenina or ladies from Dickens. : ) All this belongs to WB, Stan Lee, Marvel Comics, whoever you like. 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel' belong to Joss Whedon, and 'Daria' belongs to MTV. Swastikas belong to Hitler, the bloody bastard...
NOTES: Here it is- my very first big 'X-Men: Evolution' project. Like the prologue? It's gone through loads of changes. First I was only going to write Seasons One and Two, then only Season One, then maybe the first three seasons. But I am going to try to do what I don't think has been done too many times before. I am going to write the entire series from Rogue's point of view.
And have fun doing it. SMIRK
Let me say right now that Rogue's opinions do not necessarily match my own. Some characters she's going to be rather dismissive of (read: Tabitha, Bobby, Scott sometimes, Jean CONSTANTLY, Kitty periodically, Roberto occasionally, Ororo whenever the opportunity arises, the Prof etc), whereas I pretty much like every single Evo character except for the following: Pyro (bloody pseudo-Aussie bastard. My friend and I have hated him ever since his horrible line, "It's gawn deeown undah!" Dickhead. However, he can snowboard which is cool. And he does a good evil laugh.), pre-Morlock Evan (moo juice SNIGGER), Pietro (I don't know... I'm very scathing of guys who ponce around a lot like he does. However, he has some pretty damn good lines), Taryn (bloody ditz. If I was writing the show I would have killed her off SOOOOO many times by now) and Duncan (I SWEAR he dyes his hair. I don't think it's actually possible to have black eyebrows and naturally blonde hair, at least like his. And he looks about THIRTY-FIVE. Why does Jean go out with him anyway? I'm glad they never showed them kissing, otherwise I would have had a powerful urge to scream, "CRADLESNATCHERRRRRR!!").
Rogue's accent- let's face it, I can't imagine Evo!Rogue without her accent. But there IS a reason for it, and all will be revealed. And sorry for being so nauseatingly specific about Rogue's attire. I love Rogue's style in the series. I always want to steal her outfits. Basically, from a very young age Rogue's been trusted by Raven to buy her own clothes and let's face it- she's not exactly a happy kid, the kind you'd see in flowers and sparkles and pink. Neither is she a happy teenager, and she obviously buys her own clothes then too. So there was the idea: what does mini-Rogue wear? Although maybe the flaming skull t-shirt was going just a teeny bit over the top.
("Just a teeny bit?" the reader say incredulously)
I love Mystique too. She's definitely my favourite villain. I think she does love her children a lot... in an extremely twisted way.
I've never seen BtVS or Angel, but people on this message board I post at seem to think that Rogue would watch that show. I have seen Daria though. I love Daria, it's the best. As I write this, my favourite cartoons are X-Men: Evolution, X-Men: The Animated Series, Johnny Bravo, Daria and Teen Titans.
Now, what did Mastermind do to weeny Rogue, you ask? Basically the same thing he did to Wanda in The Toad, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Only in this prologue his powers aren't quite as sophisticated as they are in Toad and Witch. Instead of implanting false memories into Our Girl of the Sainted Streaks and Bad Attitude's head, he simply covered up all her memories of Raven with a truckload of psychological 'rubble' that make it very painful- you choose in what way- for Rogue to try and access those memories. Everything before her fostering to Irene Adler is a meaningless blur that by the next chapter, Rogue will have learnt not to think about.
SONGS (These are songs that inspire me to write each individual chapter. 'Scuse me if you think my taste bites.)
As Heaven is Wide by Garbage
Dark Blue by No Doubt (always reminds me of Kurt and/or Mystique. Expect it a lot in this fic.)
The front hall was wondrously bleak and cool after the pressure cooker of her elementary school. With a grateful sigh she removed her jacket and peeled off her gloves. Her hands were alarmingly white and sweaty after stewing for hours inside her gloves. The thumbs and forefingers were tagged with rings, each one a birthday gift. She unscrewed them from each digit and slipped them into her jeans pocket.
Then her boots. House rules dictated that no shoes should be worn inside the home. In a shoe rack next to the front door were five pairs of shoes, all hers.
Walking past her bedroom, she pulled off her jeans, balled them up and kicked them through the doorway. She ventured inside, kicking her jeans under the desk. She found a pair of loose shorts which she wore for decency (an important house rule) and yanked them on. She would only be allowed to dress in shorts for a few hours, until the only other member of her family arrived home.
Passing the hall table (where four working telephones sat) and the door to the only other bedroom (which was always locked. Always), she entered the kitchen. She splashed her face, arms and neck with cold water from the tap. Then she filled a glass and stood in the centre of the kitchen, drinking thirstily.
Thank God it was Wednesday. The girl only attended school three days a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays were given over to work. It was only a few years ago it had started to be called 'work' rather than 'private lessons', so she figured she must be getting very good. For hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays she trained- kickboxing, gymnastics and martial arts. Upon moving to this house, the entire basement (and it was a huge one) had been converted into a training area specially equipped for her work.
She never expected to laze around cramming for tests or watching daytime TV on working days. She had to get all her homework finished beforehand and Heaven help her if it wasn't. Yet another house rule- while working, she had to keep on top of her schoolwork. And television? That was for her free time that she got each day, after homework and before dinner. She had just enough time to watch two shows per day. Buffy the Vampire Slayer (which she'd been watching for about a year and a half at her young age) and Daria, which was a new one.
She didn't read in her free time. She read before bedtime each night, to help her dream. She read at weekends for something to do. And early in the morning, long before breakfast, she might open a book. It helped her get through the day.
... Which reminded her. Homework time.
She spread out her homework on the kitchen table. She felt safer in the kitchen when she was at home. It was bigger. You could see if anyone was coming down either of the halls and it was only a short sprint to the back door. Even though it was still daylight, she went through the whole house, turning on every light. Returning to the kitchen, she poured herself some milk and tipped up a packet of cookies onto a plate. Her favourite food. Then she sat and did her homework, and by the time it was done she still had a few cookies to spare.
Hmm. She was still alone in the house. She wondered where her mother was, she was normally home by now.
Reluctantly, she retired to the laundry room. Opening the cleaning closet she unveiled the TV set. Again, it was house rules (and snobbery on her mother's part, she privately thought) that said the TV should be kept inside a closet when not in use. She procured a chair and sat in it cross-legged, tuning in just as the Daria theme song began to play.
It grew dark at the end of Angel (which she only ever watched when her mother was late home). The temperature dropped, but mosquitos still found their way into the house, and she slapped them away angrily. Where was she? Was it fair to leave her alone like this? Who else would she talk to if not for her mother?
When she was moody, she didn't eat. So she didn't heat herself up anything to eat even though she was perfectly capable of doing it. She considered having a shower or perhaps getting in some practice for work tomorrow, but the fact was she didn't feel like locking herself away in any one room in an empty house. Even one with all the lights on.
She went to check that the back door was locked again and leaned against it, looking out through the glass into the small courtyard. There was a hidden gate that led out to the backalley, just one of the secret escape routes in the house.
There was a crash.
She started and looked back in horror at the corridor that led right the way through the house, from front door to back. She could dimly see the front door swinging wide open.
It hadn't been locked. She hadn't locked the front door. What kind of total imbecile didn't lock the front door?
Frantically, she made her way to the kitchen and hauled open the cutlery drawer, removing a large knife. Now armed, she started to move to the front door. Her back was pressed against the wall.
A loud creak emanated out of the hallway behind her and as she looked to see where it had come from, all the lights went out. "Oh, God- if there's someone there," she fearfully called out, "you'd do well to leave right now. My mother'll be home soon and anyway, Ah'm armed."
... Her shallow breathing seemed unpleasantly amplified in this darkness.She gulped and her toes curled. "GET OUTTA MAH HOUSE!" she shrieked. The silence echoed endlessly.
Finally, the warning bells in her head stopped ringing. With a long sigh, she went to lock the front door.
She went flying as someone stuck their foot through her bedroom door and tripped her up. The girl was relieved, in a way- at least now she knew what to expect. Unfazed as the intruder exited, she lunged from her position on the floor to stab them in the ankle.
Smoothly, the burglar kicked her knife right out of her hand, and as she nursed her hurt fingers she stared in horror at the bright blade of the knife flashing way out of her reach. Reduced to what she truly was- a scared child- she opened her mouth and screamed.
Nothing recognisable, at first. But it turned into words- "No! No, no, no, no!" She curled into a ball on the floor and prepared herself to die.
The intruder laughed. Tossing back his head, he- he...
Shifted. From navel upwards, and from navel downwards, her mother shapeshifted back to her usual form- that of a blue-skinned woman with red hair and slight fangs. She never questioned this ability, it was just something her mother could do. A trick she was always playing.
Nodding curtly, she said the girl's name in greeting. "Rogue..."
Rogue looked up at her mother's statuesque frame. The urgency and fear in her eyes stilled and disappeared, and in a halted voice said, "Raven."
"Rogue, you may be very young but it's no excuse for leaving the front door unlocked."
Scowling, the girl retorted, "Raven, you may be mah mother and teacher but that's no excuse for scarin' the crap outta me for no good reason." One of Raven's favourite 'lessons' was to sneak into the house through an unlocked door or window in the guise of a thief or murderer. She hadn't done it in about a year.
"I had plenty of reason. Despite all your better judgement, you left the front door open and you left yourself vulnerable to outside attack."
"Ah forgot, OK? Stop bossin' me around, woman." Rogue tried to push past her mother into her bedroom.
"You address me as Raven or ma'am. Or have you forgotten that too?"
Rogue glared and finally said. "It was stinkin' hot today and Ah didn't wanna go to school, but you made me." She ducked neatly under Raven's arm and darted into her bedroom, nearly slamming the door on her mother's fingers.
"I wasn't expecting this kind of rebellion for a few more years, Rogue." Raven yelled through the keyhole. She left Rogue alone to cool off...
About forty-five minutes later, Rogue was curled up on her bed reading a magazine. She'd changed into her pyjamas. She sat right up as a fly buzzed under the door. "Ain't foolin' me, Raven," she said softly, and without blinking she lobbed a book at the fly.
The fly buzzed in alarm and disappeared to the foot of Rogue's bed, where it shifted back into the form of her adoptive mother. "Ta-da," deadpanned Raven, flicking back her hair and casting a critical eye over the girl's room.
Pictures of vampires, gothic rock singers and creepy mountain ranges were tacked up on the drab walls, alongside postcards from all the places they had visited in the time they had lived together- some in Europe, most in America. There was a closet with only a few articles of clothing hanging up- the rest were either packed away into boxes or strewn all over the floor. The black curtains at the barred window were drawn.
To make peace, Raven made her way over to the desk and upon finding a lighter imamongst all the junk, lit each of the candles that were there. Then she tossed the lighter to Rogue, who smirked and lit the candles beside her bed and on the windowsill. Rogue preferred candles to electric lights.
As Rogue lit candles, Raven picked up a grey t-shirt with a black flaming skull emblem on the front. "I shouldn't let you buy decorated t-shirts," mused Raven. "They attract too much attention- especially this particular motif, on a girl your age."
"Ah like it."
"Just don't buy anything with a swastika on it or we'll both be in it deep, Rogue," smirked Raven, taking a look at the nametag sewn inside the neck. It said DARKHOLME in black letters and underneath was a telephone number.
"Deal."
"How was school?" asked Raven somewhat maternally, sitting down on a box full of clothes. She let Rogue buy all her own clothes, putting money into her childish hands and simply following her about while Rogue silently selected whatever she needed, but would often buy her shirts or shoes as peace offerings. Also, if they had to leave a place in a hurry there often wasn't time to pack much in the way of clothes, so Rogue had already lost many hundreds of articles of clothing.
"That prison!" said Rogue scornfully. "The sooner Ah graduate, the better."
When Rogue had been adopted by Raven, she had taken her surname- Darkholme, obviously. A long time ago she had used to be called something else, but Raven had legally changed her name to Rogue when she was five. What had started out as a kind of codename had eventually become her actual name. It hadn't been easy, but by the time she was six the girl answered only to Rogue Darkholme.
"You might have to wait awhile. So have you made any friends among the other children? Any of the girls, the boys?"
"Nope. Besides, Ah hate boys. 'Specially boys who wear glasses an' sit at the front of the class. Same with the girls."
Raven smirked. "Perfect." She didn't bother keeping it quiet that she didn't wish for Rogue to make friends. Rogue had been taught to regard other children with contempt, suspicion, even hatred and fear. "But you are all right at school? The children aren't teasing you at all?"
"No."
"I'll go and fix you some dinner." Raven stood up to leave.
"Ah can do it mahself."
"Fine. YOU go and fix you some dinner."
"Ah don't want to."
Raven knew better than to push it. "Rogue, I'm sorry I startled you."
"Excuse me?"
"You're excused," sneered Raven.
"Somethin' weird's goin' on. You've asked me how school was, offered to fix me dinner and apologised for scarin' me in the space of a few minutes. Somethin' is definitely up."
"I can't pull the wool over your eyes, can I?"
"No. Now spill, why are ya being so nice t'me?"
Raven took a deep breath. Completely straight-faced, she asked, "Rogue, how would you like to come with me and visit one of my friends in Caldecot County for a day or two?"
"Ya mean it? Ya really wanna take me with you?" Rogue frowned. This was very odd.
"Yes." Raven stood up and came to sit next to her daughter, putting a careful arm around her shoulders. "I really would like you to meet my good friend. It would be an honour."
Rogue giggled. "Raven, you don't have any friends."
"Charming," said Raven sarcastically, giving Rogue's hair a tug. Rogue giggled with her hand over her mouth.
"This ain't a business trip, is it?"
"No."
"What's your friend's name?"
"Irene. Irene Adler. Out of everyone I know, I trust her the most."
"Apart from me," Rogue reminded her.
"Of course. You're my kin, my only child. I trust you with my life."
"And if this WAS a business trip, Ah'd be fully informed, right?"
"Right. This is purely for pleasure."
"Ah can't remember the last time we took a real vacation, Raven."
"It'll be a short one," said Raven hastily. In an odd voice, she said, "You'll only need to pack a few pieces of clothing."
"OK. When are we leaving?"
"Tomorrow."
Rogue's eyes widened. "Wow. Ya'll don't let the grass grow under your feet, do ya?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
Rogue nodded. Gruffly, she said, "You're a good mother, Raven. Ah'm sorry Ah overreacted like that."
"I can see I've trained you well. You very nearly stabbed me in the leg."
"Ah was aimin' for your ankle."
Raven didn't seem to be listening. "Raven?" asked Rogue. "Somethin' wrong?"
"Absolutely nothing. ...Rogue?"
"Yeah?"
Raven tightened her arm around her child's shoulders. "When you are grown up, Rogue, you will be so vital to me and to what I do. My organisation's founder can barely wait to meet you in person, because he knows how well you are doing with your training."
"Work," corrected Rogue, yawning.
"Of course, Rogue. Your very, very important work." She did something she practically never did, and stroked Rogue's long hair. Then Raven got up to leave.
"... Mother?" called Rogue softly, almost hoping Raven wouldn't hear her. Least of all because it was only when she felt very warmly towards her parent that she actually called her 'Mother'.
Raven turned, a little surprised. She said nothing.
"Ah'm important and vital now, right? Like, even though Ah can't help you with your work?"
Silence. Then- "Completely important and vital. I chose you because of your special gifts and qualities. You'll save the world one day, Rogue. Save it for... people like us." The door closed.
Rogue lay back, blissful in the thought that her mother must love her even though she couldn't help her yet.
Which brought on the nagging question. Would Raven care about her even if Rogue couldn't help her at all?
... Rogue didn't want to think about it. She fell asleep.
The next afternoon, around six PM, Rogue shouldered the small backpack she'd been told to pack for the trip. Raven had advised her not to bring any of her belongings except her clothes and toiletries. "We'll take you out shopping when we get to Irene's house, mmm? Get you some treats."
"Yeah. Ah need incentive, anyway, to be cooped up with old ladies all day long."
"Watch your back when you talk like that, Rogue," said Raven in mock irritation. She went to hit her child up the back of the head.
To her surprise, Rogue caught her hand split seconds before it connected with her head. "Watch your own back," smirked Rogue, poking Raven hard in the side. Raven nodded in approval and went outside to start the car, shifting as she walked through the front door.
Rogue looked around the dark, elegant house she'd lived in almost a year. She looked forward to having her eleventh birthday there. Rogue smiled and jumped as she heard Raven start beeping the horn from outside.
"Yeah, Ah'm comin'!" yelled Rogue, and left what she sarcastically called Darkholme Manor without a backwards glance.
... It was night when Raven's car pulled up outside Irene Adler's house. Irene sat on the front porch and hearing the car arrive, she made her way down the front steps with the help of her walking stick. She wound up standing a short distance from Raven.
"Raven. How are you?" Irene touched Raven's arm to check she was really there.
"I'm fine," said Raven.
"It's been so long..."
"I know. I'm sorry to intrude."
"No, it's no inconvenience to me. Don't even worry about it." Irene hesitated. "Do you have the girl?"
"Mmm. She's asleep in the backseat."
"What should I call her?"
"Rogue. It's her name, after all."
Rogue was awakened by the sound of the door opening and Raven pulling her into a sitting position. "Rogue, wake up. We're here."
Rogue rubbed at her eyes as Raven helped her out of the car. "M-Mother?" she murmured.
Raven winced and released Rogue's elbow from her grip. "This is Irene Adler, Rogue. Shake hands nicely and say hello."
"There's no need for formalities." Irene smiled. "Let's go inside. The guest room's been made up for you, Rogue."
Crickets chirped in the bushes as Rogue was left to take in their bags. Raven had one- a very small one because she didn't need to take any clothes- and Rogue had her backpack. Rogue picked up both (she was strong for her age) and wandered inside. After she'd put Raven's bag in the living room she left the women to their conversation in the kitchen and with only a little bit of exploring found what was to be her room for the time they were staying with Irene.
It was small and tidy and didn't smell like anything in particular. The carpet was thin and grey and the walls were white. The single bed in the corner was made up with new white sheets and had a new black blanket decorated with white stars folded at its far end. There was a closet, a side table beside the bed with a lamp on it, a desk with a chair and a small bookshelf.
"See ya in the morning," she bellowed, changing into her nightclothes and crawling into bed.
After a quick breakfast the next morning Raven (having turned into a woman who could have been Rogue's grandmother- she usually took a female shape when she was taking her daughter out) took Rogue shopping at the local mall. Not only for clothes, but for shoes and books and posters and new schoolthings. Rogue normally enjoyed being taken out and spoilt rotten. Raven often bought her the odd thing just to keep her going, a pair of jeans and a paperback novel if she was really in a good mood. But often if Rogue came along on a shopping trip Raven would show a vicious kind of pleasure out of buying things for her child. But she simply stamped grimly around flourishing credit cards at Rogue's whim.
"Thanks for takin' me shopping, Raven," said Rogue sincerely as Raven drove them back to Irene's.
"Huh?"
"Ah said thank you for takin' me out today."
Raven let out a long breath. "Rogue, I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you with Irene for a day or two."
Rogue froze. "Ah knew it. Ah should've guessed when you bought me all that stuff," said Rogue flatly, gesturing to the sea of shopping bags in the backseat.
"Rogue-"
"You said we were here on vacation."
"I know, I did say that and I want for us to be able to enjoy each other's company-"
"Fat chance."
Raven inhaled sharply. "Fine. Whatever."
When they arrived home Raven and Irene holed up in the living room for ages while Rogue boredly looked over all her new things. She frowned when Irene called, "Rogue!"
Rogue left her bedroom and found the living room door still shut tightly. It stayed shut for a few minutes more until Raven came to open it.
"We're ready for you now, Rogue," said Raven softly. As Rogue entered the room, Raven placed a hand on her shoulder. Rogue flinched it off in a second- partly because she was unused to being touched, and partly because she was getting a weird vibe from her adoptive mother. It made her feel hostile.
The furniture had been pushed up against the walls. Three chairs were left in the open space- two on the sidelines, one in the middle. Irene occupied one of the side chairs. Hearing Rogue enter the room, she smiled in encouragement.
Someone else stood there. A short, unkempt man fiddling with the folds of his clothes. Rogue disliked him already. Not being one to mince words, she asked, "Who the hell is this?"
"This is Mr Wyngarde," said Raven in a guarded voice. She glared at Mr Wyngarde, who said nothing.
"Hel-" Rogue said grudgingly, but stopped. Raven wasn't even bothering to tell Rogue to say hello. She directed her to the chair and motioned that she should sit down. Rogue sat tensely, her knees together, her fists balanced precariously on them.
Irene spoke. "We need you to sit very still and try not to move, Rogue."
"Ah go on record as not liking this," Rogue said in an undertone she knew each of the adults could hear.
The tapping of Irene's stick. "Rogue, honey. This is just something to make the separation from y- from Raven easier."
She stared up at them. The three grown-ups were crowding her in. She had a weird feeling about this... "Fine."
"That's a girl," said Irene, patting Rogue on the shoulder. She watched as the women took seats and frowned as Irene found Raven's hand and laced their fingers together. Displays of affection between adults were alien to her.
"Close your eyes and relax." He spoke roughly. Wyngarde stepped forward. He placed his scruffy hands on either side of her head, pushing his fingers up through her hair.
Rogue felt a thrill of apprehension that she couldn't explain. She shied away slightly, but he kept his grip. "What are you-"
Pain exploded from her temples. There was nothing fine or precise about this procedure. She tried to bear it, tried to rationalise it but she was a child and the only thing she could register was that it hurt. Her eyes snapped open and she shrieked in agony, twisting in her seat and trying to escape.
He kept his grip on her. A Rogue nobody could see, the Rogue inside her narrowed her eyes and with all the strength in her mind she tried to throw him off.
Not literally, of course. He might not have looked it, but he was a lot stronger than she was physically. And she didn't even succeed to mentally throw him off, because once again he was stronger. But Rogue gave Mastermind one hell of a shock as he discovered a ten-year-old ALMOST able to take him on.
Gasping in pain, Rogue kicked out at him and felt her foot stop in midair. Her hands jarred as they clung fruitlessly to the sides of the chair, which she almost tipped over as her feet drummed on the floor.
The effort in trying, body and mind, to push him away exhausted and even further injured Rogue. She couldn't keep at it and simply wailed in pain.
A sudden shout. "Stop it. Stop it! Wyngarde, you're hurting her! Leave her alone!" A clatter of someone actually tipping over their chair, and Raven roughly shoved Wyngarde out of the way. Rogue cried in pain and Raven put her arms around her.
"Raven," bawled Rogue. Raven hugged her, murmuring.
Wyngarde was breathing heavily from where he lay, sprawled on the ground. "You're a fool, Mystique."
Raven glowered. "Fuck you, Wyngarde." She looked at Irene. "I'm not doing this any more."
Irene said sadly, "Raven, it's not your place."
"The hell it's not!" barked Raven. "I'm not putting her through this."
"You never meant to go through with this," Wyngarde seethed, standing up. "It's been a wasted journey for me, Destiny. She's taught the girl psychic defence of some kind."
Raven had managed to regain her composure remarkably quickly. "I did no such thing. The only thing of the kind Rogue knows is self-hypnosis, to block pain."
"She's lying!" shouted Wyngarde.
Rogue's eyes fluttered open and she frowned a little. Wyngarde had let something slip when he'd tried to force his way into her mind... something he shouldn't have...
It was a lie! It had to be a lie... Raven wouldn't do something like that.
No. She would.
"YOU'RE lying!" she screamed suddenly, silencing the adults. She pushed Raven away and jumped up, stars whirling in her eyes. In her mother's eyes, in that moment... in a terrible sort of way, Rogue was magnificent.
Raven said nothing.
"You're leaving me here with Irene, aren't ya?" accused Rogue.
"Yes," said Raven quietly.
"You don't want me any more."
Irene coughed. "Rogue, of course Raven-"
"Stay out of this," snapped Raven to her friend before turning back to her daughter. "I didn't say that, Rogue."
"But why?" asked Rogue weakly.
"It has become an inconvenience for me to care for you and still work. The cause's leader thinks it's best for you to remain with Irene for a time."
"Raven, Ah'm... Ah'm your daughter. Ah'm..." Rogue didn't dare suggest that she ought to come first.
"You'll still be my daughter while you're living with Irene."
"But Ah don't need Irene to look after me," muttered Rogue, eyes downcast. "Ah need you."
"Mystique, Magneto has no use for the girl yet. Until her powers emerge she's a thorn in your side. You know that. Destiny and I know that. Even the girl knows it," mumbled Wyngarde.
Raven whirled around. "Shut UP, Wyngarde. I understand. I'm trying to salvage the situation."
"Thorn in ya side?" repeated Rogue softly. "Ah'm not... Ah'm- a thorn in your side?" No-one heard her. Nobody even tried to hear.
Raven sighed loudly, biting at her lip. She massaged her temples for a few seconds before speaking. "This has gone far enough. Irene... we'd better leave Rogue alone with Mastermind."
"Are you sure?" asked Irene anxiously.
Rogue looked up, eyes full of fury.
"Ah am not a thorn. Or a- a situation. Ah'm your kid. And Ah'm TIRED of you screwin' me over! Ah'm tired of you orderin' me around and you lecturin' me and your rules that don't make any sense! Ya said ya trusted me more than anyone else in the world. Were ya lyin' then too?" yelled Rogue.
"Be quiet," said Raven coldly, hugging herself against Rogue's tirade.
"You don't want me any more. You don't love me and you never will! You won't let me love you and Ah don't wanna try any more! Ah'm sick of you anyway Raven, you stupid psycho bitch! Ah hate you!"
Flatly, Raven spoke. "You don't mean that." She stood up and moved toward Rogue.
"Get away from me!" shrilled Rogue, pushing up her sleeve and holding out her skinny arm like a shield. "Ah mean it! Ah'll really do it!"
"You'll do what? This?" snapped Raven, grabbing Rogue's arm roughly. Rogue's jaw dropped. Raven laughed nastily, but there were tears in her eyes. "Is that what you'll do, Rogue?"
Rogue wrenched her arm free and glared up at her mother.
"Don't look so shocked. I doubt you ever really believed the skin disease lie."
"AH HATE YOU!" Rogue fled the room.
Rogue couldn't believe what had just happened as she flung herself into her little room. She tried to slam the door three times but it kept swinging open forcefully, so she just crawled underneath the covers on her bed, curled into a ball and cried.
Finally she emerged, sniffling. Rogue turned off the light and pulled off her trousers, lobbing them under the desk as she usually did. It was so hot and uncomfortable that night.
Rogue couldn't believe such a thing could happen to her. She couldn't trust anyone, not even Raven. Raven, who was meant to love her no matter what. Raven, who was supposed to care for her. Raven, who didn't her any more.
Nobody ever seemed to want Rogue. Not the kids at school, not the teachers, not even her own mother...
"Rogue?"
Rogue lay very still and pretended to be asleep.
Raven stood in the doorway, letting out a whistling breath through her teeth. "Oh, Rogue."
As she stepped through the door, she shapeshifted. Rogue couldn't be sure what into until Raven sat down on the side of her bed and Rogue, from under lowered eyelids, caught a glimpse.
Raven's hair was auburn with white streaks like Rogue's, and her eyes grey-green. Her skin was pale and her form slight and lovely. She'd become a woman in her middling thirties. In all the years they had been together, they'd never looked more like mother and daughter. Seeing her face, in spite of herself, Rogue had to admit that even though she felt angry and betrayed, she'd never loved Raven more.
She sat down on the bed, drumming her elegant fingers on the black bedspread. Then, clearing her throat, she spoke.
"Rogue, you are very important to me. There is no reason to feel alone or afraid. You'll probably only be with Irene a year or so- and she is a good woman, she'll take excellent care of you. I wouldn't have chosen anyone else. She is a great friend of mine and for her, caring for you will be an honour and a privilege. It would be for anyone who truly understood our cause. I'm leaving money so you can continue with lessons- martial arts, I think. You'll only do kickboxing and gymnastics for another year at the most, we need you to concentrate on your studies."
Finally, Rogue spoke. "Ah still don't want for you to leave me, Raven."
"I know." Raven didn't seem surprised that Rogue was awake. She sighed. "You'll forget me, Rogue. I'm sorry it had to be this way. Remember as long as you can, you're still my daughter. You're still a Darkholme. But for awhile, I'll have to pretend I don't know you."
Rogue turned over onto her back and stared at Raven- into the manufactured eyes Raven had made like Rogue's own. In a low voice so old and so young it chilled Raven, she said, "Don't do this. Ah don't want you to, and you don't want to either. Ah don't want you to pretend you don't know me. Ah don't want to stay here alone."
Raven shut her eyes in frustration and stood up, her back to Rogue. Rogue sat right up, eyes wide in fear. Irene Adler and Jason Wyngarde stood in the doorway. "Raven," she whimpered.
She knew in her heart they would come after her. Rogue cursed herself- she should have run for it, she should have gotten the hell out of the house while the adults were still conferring. Oh, no...
Her mother turned around and came to sit beside her on the bed. She put her arms around Rogue as though she was much younger. "I need you to relax."
"Mother..."
As Wyngarde's eyes glowed unnaturally, Raven smoothed her child's messy, long hair. "Sleep and dream and relax, Rogue. One day you will realise who and what you truly are. You will be so important to many millions of people. When that day comes, I'll come back for you."
Rogue suddenly felt very sleepy. She could barely keep her head up as Raven lay her down on the bed and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders.
"Don't do this..." she mumbled, her eyes closing.
... Dimly, she heard Raven reach the door. "Why am I even bothering?" she heard Raven murmur to Irene in defeat. "After Mastermind's finished with her, she'll have no memory of me."
"Precisely. Which is why you shouldn't worry yourself. She'll have no memory."
No memory.
No memory of any of it.
No memory at all...
Both Raven and Jason Wyngarde were gone long before Rogue awoke the next day. All of Rogue's old clothes had been disposed of. She even had a new toothbrush and hairbrush sitting on the table, waiting for her. The only thing from her old life that still remained was the t-shirt she'd slept in.
Irene sat in her armchair, brooding on the position she had now found herself in. She heard movement in the doorway and looked up.
"Rogue? Are you there, honey?"
"Ah- um, Ah think..." stammered Rogue, hugging something grey to her chest. She was fully dressed.
"Call me Irene. What's wrong?"
"Ah think somethin' bad happened yesterday," said Rogue tearfully, looking down at the t-shirt in her arms. "But Ah can't remember right. It keeps gettin' mixed up in mah head." She burst into tears.
"Oh, Rogue. Come here." Irene opened her arms to the girl. All of Rogue's insecurities disappeared and as if it were the most normal thing in the world she seemed to wade into Irene's arms. She dropped the t-shirt on the floor and as the blind woman held the sobbing child Irene surreptitiously kicked the t-shirt away.
In the midday light the nametag at the neck seemed to glow. It had been the word therein- the word DARKHOLME- which had set Rogue off crying. She felt so relieved at being hugged and comforted she forgot all about it, and concentrated on the arms holding her as she cried.
-----
DISCLAIMER: None of the X-Men belong to me. If they did, I would have pre-Morlock Evan, Pyro and Pietro die in tragic (snort) accidents, pair up Rogue and Gambit IMMEDIATELY, get Scott and Jean to just frickin' hold hands or something for a few seconds because their 'We love each other, we're just too shy to show it' is getting annoying, pair up Rahne and Roberto, pair up Bobby and Jubes, make an X-Men Evolution movie... Uh, anyway, I am a sad individual who, despite being in her teens, feels that Rogue is a Tragic Heroine on a par with Anna Karenina or ladies from Dickens. : ) All this belongs to WB, Stan Lee, Marvel Comics, whoever you like. 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel' belong to Joss Whedon, and 'Daria' belongs to MTV. Swastikas belong to Hitler, the bloody bastard...
NOTES: Here it is- my very first big 'X-Men: Evolution' project. Like the prologue? It's gone through loads of changes. First I was only going to write Seasons One and Two, then only Season One, then maybe the first three seasons. But I am going to try to do what I don't think has been done too many times before. I am going to write the entire series from Rogue's point of view.
And have fun doing it. SMIRK
Let me say right now that Rogue's opinions do not necessarily match my own. Some characters she's going to be rather dismissive of (read: Tabitha, Bobby, Scott sometimes, Jean CONSTANTLY, Kitty periodically, Roberto occasionally, Ororo whenever the opportunity arises, the Prof etc), whereas I pretty much like every single Evo character except for the following: Pyro (bloody pseudo-Aussie bastard. My friend and I have hated him ever since his horrible line, "It's gawn deeown undah!" Dickhead. However, he can snowboard which is cool. And he does a good evil laugh.), pre-Morlock Evan (moo juice SNIGGER), Pietro (I don't know... I'm very scathing of guys who ponce around a lot like he does. However, he has some pretty damn good lines), Taryn (bloody ditz. If I was writing the show I would have killed her off SOOOOO many times by now) and Duncan (I SWEAR he dyes his hair. I don't think it's actually possible to have black eyebrows and naturally blonde hair, at least like his. And he looks about THIRTY-FIVE. Why does Jean go out with him anyway? I'm glad they never showed them kissing, otherwise I would have had a powerful urge to scream, "CRADLESNATCHERRRRRR!!").
Rogue's accent- let's face it, I can't imagine Evo!Rogue without her accent. But there IS a reason for it, and all will be revealed. And sorry for being so nauseatingly specific about Rogue's attire. I love Rogue's style in the series. I always want to steal her outfits. Basically, from a very young age Rogue's been trusted by Raven to buy her own clothes and let's face it- she's not exactly a happy kid, the kind you'd see in flowers and sparkles and pink. Neither is she a happy teenager, and she obviously buys her own clothes then too. So there was the idea: what does mini-Rogue wear? Although maybe the flaming skull t-shirt was going just a teeny bit over the top.
("Just a teeny bit?" the reader say incredulously)
I love Mystique too. She's definitely my favourite villain. I think she does love her children a lot... in an extremely twisted way.
I've never seen BtVS or Angel, but people on this message board I post at seem to think that Rogue would watch that show. I have seen Daria though. I love Daria, it's the best. As I write this, my favourite cartoons are X-Men: Evolution, X-Men: The Animated Series, Johnny Bravo, Daria and Teen Titans.
Now, what did Mastermind do to weeny Rogue, you ask? Basically the same thing he did to Wanda in The Toad, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Only in this prologue his powers aren't quite as sophisticated as they are in Toad and Witch. Instead of implanting false memories into Our Girl of the Sainted Streaks and Bad Attitude's head, he simply covered up all her memories of Raven with a truckload of psychological 'rubble' that make it very painful- you choose in what way- for Rogue to try and access those memories. Everything before her fostering to Irene Adler is a meaningless blur that by the next chapter, Rogue will have learnt not to think about.
SONGS (These are songs that inspire me to write each individual chapter. 'Scuse me if you think my taste bites.)
As Heaven is Wide by Garbage
Dark Blue by No Doubt (always reminds me of Kurt and/or Mystique. Expect it a lot in this fic.)