"Out of Touch"

Prologue: This is the fifth entry of my "Untouchable" series. It is a piece of Rogue's past, and a small road trip story that explores the relationship between Rogue and Gambit. The reading order of the series that it belongs to is: Touch, The Rest of the World is Noise, Mouvement, The Dividing Line and this. I have made one minor adjustment to the canon of X-Men: Evolution, and it's a simple one. In "Self-Possessed", Mystique tells Rogue that she adopted her when she was four. I shifted this by a few years, not by much, and it won't be explicitly stated. Enjoy, and if you do (or don't), a review would be much appreciated. The chapter titles are the titles of Rabbit Junk songs.

Rated M for some swearing, some offensive language, and suggestive themes, as always, in one chapter.

Prologue

(To All Good Night)

She remembered, very faintly, that saying good night was important. Not just to have said it, not just to bid each other farewell until the morning, but to kneel down and pray the Lord her soul to keep. As she opened the door leading into the garage, she wondered: who would keep all the souls she had stolen, the contained little existences she reaped with a little touch?

The door closed behind her. She stood in the dark, waiting for her eyes to adjust. The key in the palm of her gloved hand belonged to one of the many vehicles filling up the spacious garage. Jean's Blazer. Logan's bikes and legendary, classic Mustang. The modified humvee that was the X-Van. The Professor's black Lincoln. Kitty's Volkswagen, bright yellow.

The one she was after was an imitation Shelby Cobra, red with white rally stripes. Convertible. Trashed at least three times, but sitting there, waiting to be picked up just the same. She moved in between the vehicles, her boots tapping on the concrete ground; the green, hooded greatcoat was sweeping the side doors as she went. The duffel bag slung over her shoulder, containing a spare clothes, felt like a hammer ready to strike a church bell by coming into contact with something solid.

She made it to the car. She tossed her bag in the back seat. She got in and stuck the key into the ignition.

"I figured you'd at least say goodbye."

Rogue spun around, fists ready. She saw two red dots, glowing, in the far corner of the garage - the ruby quartz lenses that kept his powers in check.

"Jesus Christ..." she breathed, "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry. Not my intention."

"Seriously, Scott... ya coulda killed me 'fore Ah even went!"

"Why slip out?"

Rogue averted her gaze. All she could see was the faint shapes of the vehicles around her, and she knew that he could see everything perfectly.

"Ah don't wanna say goodbye." She said, "It's too much. It's like Ah'm gonna leave for good. So just... pretend Ah was goin' out for a drive."

His footsteps shuffled in the dark, and the red dots that she knew were his eyes drew closer. When he stopped, she could vaguely make out the features of his face. He stood, half a step away, a world away, a universe away.

"I wasn't going to say goodbye." He said, "I was just gonna ask if you could get some milk while you're out. We're running low."

Rogue didn't know what to feel. Her own feelings, despite the fact that she had spent some time with them, were still new to her. She didn't have names for most of them, and didn't know what to call what was inside her now. Welling up, swelling, but not overwhelming; simple, painful, but joyful at the same time.

"We're always runnin low..." she managed.

"Exactly why you shouldn't forget it, don't you think?"

Scott walked around his car and got to the gate controls. He pressed the button, and with a thick whirring sound, the garage door rose, inviting in the night lights of the driveway. Rogue hesitated, but as the cold air flooded the garage, she turned the key. She started the car. The headlights blinded her, just for a second, just enough to miss him coming around to the driver's side. He leaned on the door, a small half-smile on his face.

"Be careful out there." He said, "Don't pick up any hitch-hikers."

Rogue took a moment. A flash of memory reminded her of a college girl, who had gotten stranded when the shuttles had stopped running. She had been hitch-hiking on the side of the road, under heavy snow. Backpack, a solid but inadequate coat covering her. Shaking. They had picked her up. The conversation had been pleasant enough, that was until she had noticed Scott's ruby quartz glasses. Scott had used the eye condition excuse he always had, but Rogue could see that she wasn't buying it. The girl had been silent after that, and had even thanked them for picking her up as she got out.

It wasn't what she had said or done, but rather the way she had clammed up, retreated into the backseat, stared out the window (and occasionally, down to the door handle) with a look that Rogue knew to mean she was trying to decide if she could jump out.

"You're never gonna let me live that one down, are ya?" Rogue asked.

"Not in your life."

"Fine. But ya gotta get ta give."

"Oh?"

Her fingers curled around the back of his neck and he smiled as she pulled him in and pressed her lips against his. She was soft and warm, he was steadfast and reciprocating.

She felt a shiver course through her, spreading, swimming through her veins. Weeks. It had been weeks since had felt him here, held him here, weeks since she had savored him. Her hands cupped his cheeks, curled slightly at the tips, as if to pull him in further. Breathing through her nose, she tickled him ever-so-slightly.

His grayscale thoughts rushed into her mind, but this time, she felt that they weren't on the surface, but buried underneath the simple pleasure of sharing a kiss.

...and what if you never come back?

As the kiss lingered, his lips started to shake. His skin was growing colder, his movements restrained. One of his hands flexed and gripped the side door tightly. Rogue withdrew. The little voice inside her head, now that of her own, was screaming bloody murder at her, for not holding on for one more second, one more minute... one more lifetime.

"Oh my God, Scott..." Rogue went up on one knee to level herself with him. Her gloved hands went to his neck, to check his pulse. It was racing. "Are you okay..? Ah'm sorry, Ah just-"

"Don't be." He said, trying to keep his voice and breathing even, "I'm still here. See? No harm done."

"Ah'm so sorry... Ah got carried away, Ah should've been more careful..."

Scott managed a smile to hide his clenched teeth. For her sake.

"Safe journey." He said.

He leaned over and landed a light peck on the top of her head, sending a flash of awareness that read like a medical report to her. He was barely standing, but standing enough, he hoped.

He just hoped his legs wouldn't give in before she was out of sight.

"Ah'm comin back." She said, "And when Ah do, Ah'm gonna have a name."

"For some reason, I'm betting on Kate." He said.

Rogue couldn't help but smile. She put the car in gear, prompting Scott to take two steps back. She moved out of the garage and into the driveway without another word and pushed the button to put the top of the car up.

There were times when I wanted to call you that, just to cheer you up a bit, but I didn't, because I can't fill that empty space, Scott-by-Rogue offered, it'd be like pouring salt into the wound.

Inside, she knew that an angel was not like her, and she was not like an angel, but maybe the girl she was going to find used to be, once upon a time.

She stopped before the gates. With a metallic creak, they parted. The top of the car clacked as it met the windshield.

...to all good night, she thought, and pulled out of the Institute.