1The world didn't respond at all the way Charles Francis Xavier hoped they would.
Everyone- the government, the citizens, his cousins- was clamoring for mutant to be locked up, enslaved, killed.
They're dangerous you see. Not like everyone else. Can't be trusted. To much power.
Remember Animal Farm?
All power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
The Supreme Court decided that the mutants didn't have any Constitutional rights. Not human you see. Can't be a citizen if you're not human.
Most of them were rounded up and kept in cells. SHEILD took some of them in, some of them back. Military uses.
Others were enslaved. If you didn't have a military use, they put a chip in your brain and when they sold you, your master got a remote that would activate the power negation field. Can't have anyone getting out of hand, could they?
A few got away, if they paid off the government. Simply marked down as deceased. A few fled to Canada or Mexico or Europe, but mutants weren't allowed past borders. They just got shipped back over to the United States. Some countries began exporting mutants to the U. S.
Magneto was either put in cellular containment fluid or killed. Depends on who you asked and who you knew. Microchips didn't work on him.
Mystique went back to work as an assassin. Finely controlled microchip and various implants throughout her body worked as tracking devices.
Sabretooth and Wolverine went back to being SHIELDS best soldiers. Captain America was still asleep; otherwise he'd have killed himself. What had happened to his country?
Xavier was held in cellular containment fluid like his brother. They might need him.
Jean Grey was kept heavily drugged and under the power of the NSA.
Little Jamie Maddox went into testing. Wouldn't it be great if you could have a whole, lasting army out of one little kid?
Wanda Maximoff was taken and put into the containment fluid. Useful stuff. Might need her probability powers one day.
Katherine Pryde and Kurt Wagner disappeared. They might be enslaved, might be in government, might be dead. Lost track. Might be free.
Hank McCoy was forced to develop new ways to keep mutants under control.
The rest of the New Mutants, the X-men, the Brotherhood, and the Morlocks were enslaved. Heard Spyke got shot for a rebellion. Rumor mill.
Seemed to be more mutants popping up everyday. If you saw one, you called the
SHIELD one-eight-hundred number. They came and picked them up. Most were just thrown into the slave markets.
Jean-Luc LeBeau had paid off some ranked SHEILD agent and his adopted son was marked down as officially deceased. Had blown himself up resisting arrest. It actually came in handy. Fingerprints of a dead mutant meant the police screwed up somewhere and it was easier for Remy to thieve then ever.
On the downside, the Assassins now refused to let the Bella-Remy marriage deal go through. No daughter of Marius's was going to marry a filthy mutie. So the unresolved tension continued to rule in New Orleans.
Remy didn't actually mind so much. As long as he kept his shades on in the clubs he got an equal number of dates and an equal number of phone numbers, which translated into and equal number of women in his bed as before.
He had to spend most of his time in the LeBeau's other house, the one outside the city limits, but them's the brakes for being free. His family didn't care he was a mutant.
The day the army finally tracked down the X-men and the Brotherhood, Remy was watching channel 17 news.
He saw a familiar face, and called Jean Luc.
"Papa- turn on channel 17, now!"
Jean-Luc picked up the remote in his office "What is it, Re- Mon Dieu! Dat's Ororo!"
Remy's eyes stayed glued to the television. SHIELD agents were herding manacled mutants into holding trucks complete with mobile power neutralization fields. Remy watched as Stormy was thrown into a truck, followed by a boy in red sunglasses and another with a long blond mullet. One of the agents cuffed a blue-furred and tailed mutant over the head as he passed, evidently with a derisive comment. The girl behind him began struggling furiously and shouting loud enough for the camera crews to pick up on.
"YA DON'T TOUCH HIM, YA HEAR ME! DON'T YA TOUCH MAH BROTHER EVER AGAIN, YA-" she was cut off as another agent hit her over the head with the butt of his gun and she was knocked to the ground. They bent down, picked her up from the mud, and slung her into the truck. The agents shouted some orders, much more quietly then the girl had, and another, larger blue-furred mutant followed her in. They loading doors of that truck were slammed shut and Remy clicked off the TV.
Tante Mattie's comforting arm went around him.
"Don' you worry, boy. Your papa will get Ororo out and it'll all be fine."
"It ain't right, Tante Mattie. It just isn't right. Dey didn't do not'ing."
Tante Mattie demanded to know what would happen to the mutants when Jean-Luc and the others arrived home.
"I'm not sure yet, Mattie, but I aim to find out," and the Head of the Thieves Guild went to have Henri see if he could hack into the NSA database again.
Rogue lost track of the others after their lovely ride to where ever they were. Hank, Scott, and Kurt had helped her up off the floor, and she had fallen asleep on Kurt's shoulder for a long time.
Jean, Kitty, Xavier, and the rest of the new mutants were in different trucks. She only assumed that the Brotherhood and the Morlocks were as well.
Wolverine and Sabretooth had been taken away by helicopter in adamantium cages.
Now they were being herded out into different buildings. She was in a cell with Ororo Munroe.
The bars were adamantium.
The weeks past slowly. They were tested. The power negation fields were always on. She wore a black jumpsuit with the inscription "F-13" on the back and above her left breast.
The F stood for fatal-her powers could kill you easily.
She was number 13.
Ororo was number 11.
Kurt had been number 12, but she lost track of him.
One day he wasn't at mess.
Hank disappeared after that. She hadn't seen any of the others. The cellblocks were dimly lit in fluorescent lighting, with bulbs flickering and with a guard at either end.
She was beaten for making trouble.
Rogue wanted to know where the others were and what was being done with them. She caused a ruckus, she screamed, she kicked. They kept kicking her when she was down.
It got to be a daily thing.
One day she saw Angel and Forge. Their eyes were dull and glassy.
Havok appeared once, she thought, in the middle of a beating.
After that she stayed in her cell for a while. She was very sick.
Jean-Luc LeBeau sat at the head of a meeting with his household. Henri, Mattie, his assistant Mathieu, Mercy, Henri's fiancé, and Remy were gathered around the table.
"Dey're selling dem," he pronounced.
"De mutants dat the government can find no practical use for are being sold as lab rats or security guards and de like to whoever can pay most, with a power negation shield thrown in for de bargain. Our friend, and previous fellow thief, Ororo Munroe, is up for sale."
Henri tapped the stack of papers he was holding and gestured to them.
"Dis whole operation is very hush-hush. Gov'ment don't want de public to know about it yet. But we have managed to secure a couple o' prime tickets for dis upcomin' mutant auction, and now we just gotta decide who'll be goin' up to Mutant Containment Facility Nebraska."
(A.N. I have nothing against Nebraska. I just figured its mostly farmlands and fields and the government could get land there to build a big old MCF.)
Remy thoughtfully pushed his sunglasses further up on his nose.
"Remy thinks dat he'll go along."
Mattie and Jean-Luc exchanged glances.
"Boy, are you sure this is a good idea?" said Mattie. "It's a Mutant Containment Facility. Dey ain't going to like free mutants walking in and out?"
Remy shrugged and grinned a devil-may-care grin.
"I wear my glasses and nobody'll be any wiser. When do we leave?"
Besides, slipping in and out of government facilities always gave him an adrenaline rush.
A week later Remy was regretting his decision. He, Jean-Luc, and Henri were in Nebraska. The had been issued nondescript, gray folders with descriptions of the various mutant's powers, and were being led through the halls of cells.
He had seen a blond man with wings crumpled loosely in the corner of his cell. He looked cramped and uncomfortable. Two boys- brothers perhaps, were huddled in a cell looking glumly and the floor. A small girl, no older then eight, cowered beneath her blanket. Many of the imprisoned mutants flinched away as footsteps approached and the LeBeau's tour guide- a Captain Javert- told them who resided in each cell.
Ororo knelt beside Rogue's bunk in their cell at the end of the hall. The girl had both blankets wrapped around her and every once in a while she would moan in delirium. They had not given her any antibiotics or medical aid, and her body was already sorely abused from her attempts to fight back.
Rogue's hand was still gloved- she could not bring herself to take them off. She seemed to find comfort in it. Now that gloved hand gripped Storm's tightly as she was lost in fever.
"'Ro?" she asked, her voice hoarse and cracked.
"I am here, Rogue. Try to drink some water. Please."
Rogue accepted a mouthful of water and managed to swallow it.
"Storm, where's Kurt? He said that… uhhh, he said he'd visit me again."
Storm ran a hand over Rogue's forehead.
"I'll bring him next time I see him Rogue. Please, child, try to rest."
There were footsteps approaching. Storm fell silent. One set were loud, firm, and quick, clad in combat books. The others were quieter, two quick, one strided. One in loafers, one in tennis shoes, one in boots. They were at the cell next to them.
"And here we have mutants D-16 and C-17," and the Captain launched into a speech about their powers.
As they moved to stand before Storm and Rogue's cell, Storm chanced a look up. Rogue had fallen silent and her eyes were closed again. She recognized the faces with the Captain. It was the LeBeaus!
"Mutants D-11 and F-13. D-11- classified as dangerous, can control the weather. F-13 appears to have some sort of absorption power, but we have not fully tested it, as it appears to be very harmful to the test subjects."
The Captain glared in a Rogue's still form.
"Isn't she up yet?"
Ororo glared evilly at the man. "Perhaps," she said, her voice like cold steel, "Rogue would be quicker in recovering if she hadn't been beaten quite as often, or if the cells were kept a little warmer, or if we were given enough water to get her rehydrated, or even- goddess forbid- a doctor was called in to prescribe a treatment or medication, Captain Javert."
"You beat dem?" Jean-Luc questioned.
"When they make trouble, as F-13 does quite frequently, there is little else to do. She did not respond to other punishments"- Ororo snorted, but it was drowned out by a hacking cough from Rogue- "and we had no choice. Now, gentlemen, have you made your decisions?"
The three LeBeaus exchanged glances.
"Give us a minute alone to discuss dis, monsieur. We will call you when we have reached our decision."
Captain Javert pursed his lips and stalked off to the other end of the corridor, where some other bidders were beginning their tour.
Storm looked up again from Rogue.
"Hello, Ororo," said Jean-Luc and Henri.
"Hey Stormy," said Remy.
"Hello," she replied. "And what, by the goddess, are you doing here?"
Jean-Luc crouched down so he was level with the kneeling Storm. "De mutants dey can't find no use for are being sold t' de highest bidder. Remy saw you being taken on the news and we decided to come pick you up."
"I cannot leave the others."
"Hate to tell you, but many of them are already gone. And yo' don' have much of a choice, femme. We get you out, and its back to N'Awlins and good ole' Cajun cooking. How's that, 'Ro?"
Storm again looked down at the mumbling girl.
"You must bring her along," she said firmly.
"Ororo, we didn't come here to pick up a whole bunch of mutant slaves to train as thieves. We came here to pick up an old friend who was in a jam," protested Jean-Luc. "You do not understand. They haven't yet figured out the potential of her powers yet- probably because Charles wiped his files before they took us. This girl has the potential to be the next Captain America. She has the potential to become everything humans fear about mutants if she falls into the wrong hands. And she will die if I leave her here alone."
Rogue half-turned over and settled back into the pillow.
"Captain 'merica's still in his box," she mumbled. "Can't wake up. 'm not Captain 'merica."
"Shh, child. Go back to sleep," Storm whispered soothingly. "Hush now."
"Come on, Jean-Luc," said Remy. "We can' jus'
let de fille die."
Jean-Luc sighed, pinched the bridge of
his nose, and nodded. "Henri, get dat man back here."
Captain Javert was delighted to get Rogue off his hands. He explained to the LeBeaus that activating a chip already implanted in their brains could shut off their powers. Remy drummed a tattoo into the arm of his chair. This place gave him a severe case of the willies.
Captain Javert accompanied the LeBeaus out to their jet from the administrations building. There were several other jets on the tarmac.
"Who're the other bidders?" asked Jean-Luc.
"Well," said the captain, "Several of them are representatives of the Hellfire Club, interested in using muties as guards for the various mansions. There is also a Mr. Essex, a geneticist, I believe, and a few others aside from them. Ahh, here comes the transport."
A truck similar to the ones Remy had seen on television was approaching them from the prison building. He and Henri boarded the Lear jet while Jean-Luc continued talking to Javert.
"Where're we supposed t' put de sick one?" asked Henri.
Remy shrugged expressively. "We'll let Stormy and Pere handled that," he said, and went to wake up Olivier, the pilot.
Storm climbed out of the back of the truck and onto the dusty runway. One of the guards lifted Rogue out and stood behind Javert, waiting for orders. The other secured Ororo's hands behind her back. Jean-Luc finished up his discussion with Javert and shook his hand.
"It was nice doing business wit' you. Boys! Come get dese two in the jet."
"Cain't she walk?" Remy asked of the guard holding Rogue, checking his sunglasses.
"No," said Bert, the guard, and Remy took her and headed back into the jet where Henri, Ororo, and Olivier were waiting. Rogue stirred in his arms and her eyes cracked open, just a slit of green.
"Logan?" she whispered.
"Non, petite," he said. "Dis be Remy."
"Oh. Where's Logan?" she asked as he ducked into the jet.
"Remy don' know. Where should I put her, 'Ro?"
"Over here," Storm said, gesturing to the seat beside her
"Ya smell like the south, Remy," said Rogue as he set her down.
Jean-Luc boarded the plane, shut the hatch, and took his seat. Storm buckled Rogue up and covered her with a blanket Henri had brought her. She did not wake again until they reached New Orleans.
Mattie was initially overjoyed to see Ororo alive and then horrified to see the state Rogue was in. She hustled Remy, still carrying Rogue, to the second floor where there was a room that served as a medbay. She stuck a thermometer in Rogue's mouth then bustled around the room getting supplies.
"103.6! Good lord, Ororo, how long has this child been sick?" Mattie said.
"Truly, I am not sure. I do not even know how long we were in that place. But she has been beaten almost since the beginning and she's had to have been like this at least a week.
"We got to bring her fever down," Mattie said. "It's a miracle she's still alive as it is. Get out de way, Remy, and go get some blankets from the cupboard. Henri, run a cold bath. Move! Yo' want her ta die?"
End chapter one
Rogue's still gloved hands clenched the blankets when she started to truly wake up. Where was she? It smelled to clean to be the facility again, and she knew she hadn't dreamed that. She was sore, but now her hurts were bandaged. Caustiously, she opened her eyes. The lights were off and it was dark outside the window. There were city lights not far off, but she determined they had to be some miles outside of its suburbs. It was dark- probably an hour or so after midnight.
"Storm?" she tried to whisper. Her voice was hoarse and scratchy. She pushed herself up against the pillows, and picked up a glass from beside the bed. She sniffed it. Seemed ok.
After downing the water, Rogue swung her legs over the side of the bed.
"Hello?" she tried again. Her voice sounded a bit better this time.
"Storm? Kurt?" a bit louder. She slid off the bed and put her feet on the floor. It made her dizzy, and, clutching the bedrail, barely managed to hold herself up. She padded towards the door and paused, leaning against the door jam for support.
Remy was going back to bed after a quick snack of Mattie's leftover jambalaya, before Henri could get his greedy mitts on it. His bedroom was on the third floor, so he thought he should check on the patient, real quick, before heading up. She had been out almost three days, and he had promised Stormy, after badgering her to get some sleep, he would keep an eye on her.
Rounding the corner, he was surprised to see her leaning in the doorframe, breathing slowly.
"Yo' supposed to be in bed, fille. Tante's gonna have my head if she t'inks Remy done an' let yo' go wandering around."
"Where's Storm? An' where am Ah?"
"She's at de oder end o' de hall. C'mon, let me get yo' back inta bed."
"Don't touch meh!"
"Dere is no way yo' gonna be able to make it back across dat room on ya own. Stop strugglin'."
He went to pick her up and she stumbled back, and fell on her backside.
"Please, it'll hurt if you touch mah skin."
Remy realized then that she didn't know they had turned off her mutation to give her some medical attention, and, from what Stormy had said, she wouldn't like not knowing something like that. He decided Jean-Luc could deal with it in the morning.
"It'll be fine, chere. Yo've got dose gloves on, and Remy's wearing his shirt. I won' touch yo' skin."
"Barely," she said.
Remy looked down. Ok, it was a wife beater. At least it was something. But she wasn't about to let him near her with that much skin exposed.
Rogue watched as he went around her and pulled a blanket from the edge of her bed. He brought it back over to her, spread it, and wrapped it around her. Then he picked her up.
"No worries, see, cherie? Remy's got it all under control."
"Hmph."
Laying Rogue down on the bed, he asked if she wanted a glass of water or something before he left.
"Where am I?"
"In N'Awlins, wit some old friends of Stormy's. Remy Lebeau at yo' service."
"Ah'm Rogue. Thanks."
"Pleasure ta help de lady out. Go on back to sleep, Rogue. I'll bring Stormy along in the mornin'."
"Night, Remy," she yawned.
He made sure she was asleep before heading up to his own room.