Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own any of this. It belongs to Marvel, Fox, Bryan Singer, and so forth. But oh my Lord what'd I'd pay to have Hugh Jackman belong to me, YUM!
Title: Not My Night
Rating: NC-17 for language and sexual situations
Genre: Logan/Marie Romance, Rogue/Wolverine Romance, Drama, Rape
Verse: Alternate Universe
Combination of Movie-verse, Comic-verse, and my own histories entwined! Enjoy!
Summary: In this version of the X-Men, Rogue's only power (so far) is her skin, yet she has control over it. Rogue is about 26 and has never met Logan or any of the other X-Men. But when she is mugged, tragedy strikes her and her captor. Just as Rogue is leaving behind the tragic ending of her and the person who mugged her, she's yet again attacked, realizing this is not her night. A strange man saves her life and together they go on the run…developments happen from there.
Feedback: OF COURSE!
Chapter 1It was 3:39 in the morning as she walked down the same sidewalk she had when he'd attacked her. She felt a chill as fragile memories trickled into the corners of her mind. His blood was still there. Guilt rushed over her. It was guilt she knew she shouldn't have, but it lingered anyway, raising unwanted thoughts and questions. If he died because of her, she'd seek vengeance. She'd stop them. Tears were clouding up her vision and she really couldn't understand why. The jerk had mugged her, terrorized her, and yet she'd held his hand and stayed with him as he slipped away from life and into the unknown. His life had ended in front of her and oddly enough, she felt a connection with him because of that. Why had she stayed? Why did she help him through it, and why was she crying for him now?
She shed tears because she was human and because he was too. He'd trusted her enough to want her there while he lay dying in her arms, even after he'd made her a victim to his crime.
The car had hit him, and thoughts fluttered against the edges of her brain that it had been because of her, her secret and her power and that maybe they were catching up to her. The thug was just a casualty who had paid the price. She wished she could've done more to save him, however ironic that sounded. Now she walked the streets in the light snow contemplating her way out the tangled mess she'd woven herself into.
Tears slid down her freezing cheeks, heating them up in the icy cold air. Her thoughts of life, of death, of the guy she'd just seen stop breathing, were all was interrupted when she felt a strong arm grab her, pull her into an alley and throw her hard up against the wall, knocking the wind out of her. A painful, shocked, breathless moan came from Rogue's body as her eyes lost vision and she struggled to breathe.
She tried to focus her eyes on the person holding her against the wall and she was finally able to gulp in a breath. Breathing heavily to make up for lost oxygen, her eyes focused and she saw a man in front of her. He was vicious.
"Jesus," she whispered. "This is not my night," she swore under her breath, unable to believe that she was going to get mugged for a second time in one evening.
This man was different, though. The guy who mugged her before was a jerk, but this guy, this guy's face looked insane. His eyes feasted on her like she was a Thanksgiving turkey and fear rose up inside her. This was the nightmare. This would be evil. She knew what was about to happen to her.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?" he said with an evil grin.
"Running into assholes, apparently," she replied, so exhausted she didn't have the strength to think about how to appropriately respond. A normal person might have been scared, but she'd been through this already tonight, and she was after all, different.
"Hey," he said, getting a knife and raising it to her throat. "Watch that pretty mouth of yours or I'll cut it open."
Okay…now she was scared. The knife shined a deep white under the streetlights.
"Okay," she said nervously. "What do you want? Money? I can give you money, I can do that, please just—"
"Shut up, I don't want your fucking money, you fucking cunt, and don't you dare scream," he said, pushing the knife against her, almost breaking the skin.
"Okay, okay, please, everything's gonna be fine, just tell me what you want," she cried, already knowing the revolting answer.
He put the knife in his pants quickly and tore her coat apart, ripping it halfway down her shoulders.
"I want some pussy," he said icily and she shivered in disgust.
"No please, don't do this, I'll do anything—"
"You're damn right you will," he said, removing the coat from her arms, again knocking her against the wall to hurt and weaken her.
She cried out in pain as he ripped her from the wall and onto the ground where he quickly straddled her waist, cutting off her ability to fight him with her legs. She protested as best she could and that irritated him enough that he got out the knife and let it sink into her skin of her thigh.
"That's a warning," he said, lifting the blade up as soon as it had blood on it.
Okay, okay, she thought. Calm down, he can only get so far before I'm able to use my mutation against him. It would be hard, she hadn't been able to use it in awhile, but she would. She just had to breathe and stay quiet until he got there, no matter how much it hurt her. Maybe she could reach up and touch him now…no, he was completely covered and so was she, but not for long.
His gloved hands reached for her blouse and, too impatient, he ripped the material. She closed her eyes, attempting to block him out as she heard the buttons bounce in the alley. It rammed inside her head, the sound. A wave of nausea covered and sank into her, drenching her with disgust and fear.
"Please," she shivered, praying that this would end before he could do anything too harmful to her.
Suddenly though, her hands slammed back against the sidewalk, a little above her head. She had no control. She fought with the force that held her down but failed miserably. It was then that she knew he too was a mutant, and now more than ever, she was scared to death. His hand went to her jeans where he, despite her screaming protests, quickly yanked the buttons, sliding his hand beneath the denim to cover her.
Why the hell won't he take off his gloves, she thought. If he would she could use her mutation against him and stop him! Tears fell from her eyes, angry tears, fearful tears. Her prayers grew more desperate, and the bile touched the back of her tongue, threatening to rise. He took the knife and sliced her underwear, and she sobbed painfully through her gritted teeth.
"You're scared so you're dry," he noted tonelessly. "I'll fix that."
Expecting him to attempt to arouse her, she was surprised when by no means of her own, she lubricated herself and he took his glove off and slid a finger deep into her. Infuriated, she realized his mutation must somehow be able to control what her body did and didn't do, despite how she felt about it. And he had just controlled the fluids in her body and made her wet! She wanted to cry, she wanted to retch and vomit and she wanted to kill him.
"Listen to me, don't do this, I'll give you anything you want, any-"
"Don't bother, I've heard it before," he said, taking her breasts out of the bra cups and squeezing them gently. "You better enjoy this, because this will be your last time."
"You're gonna kill me?"
"Yep, soon as I'm done with you. Can't risk you getting away and getting me caught."
When he enclosed his mouth over her nipple she screamed in revulsion and gagged a little. She strained to use her mutation as he abused her, but nothing happened. He could control her power too? She wished she'd die. She couldn't handle this, she couldn't survive this. He'd probably kill her afterwards anyway and do God knows what with her body.
God, where are you and why aren't you helping me?
When she saw him unzip his own pants she clenched her eyes shut to block it out as best she could. She shouted for help her inside her mind as the other voices screamed along with her own; but there was no answer from God or anyone else.
As she moaned painfully through clenched teeth and shut eyes, she felt his body weight being lifted from her. She opened her eyes to see that someone had pulled him off of her and suddenly he stabbed her rapist and the force holding her down disappeared as the guy crumbled to the floor.
She was terrified, trembling and breathing heavily with wide, frantic eyes. The man who saved her looked down at her and the look on his face turned to concern.
"Let me help you up-"
"DON'T! Don't…don't touch me," she shivered, hating that her naked, defiled body was being presented even to the person who'd helped her.
"Lady, I'm not gonna hurt you," he said, leaning down to help her, but she pulled away from him with a gut-wrenching sob.
"Don't! Don't because I swear to God, the next person who lays a hand on me I'll kill, even if it's you. Stay back, I don't want to hurt you, but if you touch me I will kill you!"
"Okay, okay, got it," he replied, stepping back.
She had the ability to use her mutation, and regardless of this man's intentions, she had turned her toxic skin on. For the first time in her life she was grateful that she had it. She groaned in physical pain as she pulled herself up to a sitting position, and paused briefly, trying to get her breathing back to normal and her nausea under control.
"Lady, if you're gonna throw up or hyperventilate-"
"Would you do me a favor and shut up for a second," she half shouted, half sobbed. "If you'd give me a minute I'll calm down and the nausea will go away, just give me a minute! Please!"
She did manage to avoid throwing up. When she'd calmed down, she looked down at her body and held her breath, but that didn't stop her tears. She put her bra back on and then her jeans. Her underwear was cut and useless. She felt covered in filth and in a way she wished the guy who had saved her would go away because she was completely exposed and he had seen her body shrinking with revulsion.
There were a hundred questions he wanted to ask this violated woman, but she obviously wasn't up to chit-chat, so he waited even though he was burning with the need to do something more to help her. But she wouldn't let him.
With her bra and jeans back on, she tried to button her blouse but then remembered the buttons were gone.
"Here," the guy said, wrapping his jacket around her.
"T-thanks," she said, trembling. "What did you stab him with? Where's the knife?"
She'd asked, but should he tell her? She'd most likely flip out and the poor thing was already scared out of her mind and traumatized enough. He was saved from answering when the pig moaned in pain and she got up and rushed over to his body. She looked down at her rapist, and then realized it.
"Okay, you're a mutant, what the hell is your mutation? How did you do what you just did?" she said, leaning over her attacker.
She looked at his bleeding wounds and saw three of them. They went through his entire body. She looked at her savior.
"What did you stab him with?" she asked, curious.
"I have metal claws," he replied, shooting them out and causing her to jump. "Don't ask; I don't know where the hell they came from," he said.
Instead of flipping out though like he half expected her to, her face was covered in relief.
"Thank you," she said softly, tears slipping down her wet cheeks. She looked back at the man. "You so picked the wrong woman to attack," she hissed. "I have a mutation too, and I'm going to kill you with it, and it's going to hurt a lot. You see you're my second attacker tonight, I've been held at gunpoint, I've been shoved and grabbed and then I had to watch him die in front of me, so I have no patience left in me. You're now going to receive something that will finally teach you what rape is."
She pulled her blouse to her sides to expose her white skin and her bra to him. Her creamy breasts scooped well over the tops of the cups and her flourishing skin was beautiful under the moonlight, yet violated at the same time.
"Why…why does this turn you on? Why does it feel so fucking good to have someone beneath you who is disgusted, terrified, and shrinking in revulsion beneath you? Please explain it to me!" she shouted at him.
The guy's eyes met hers but he said nothing.
"Fine, let me tell you what my mutation is. My mutation is that I can steal your mutation. You may be able to control mine but I can take yours. I can take your powers and kill you. You are gonna be in pain every second of it. I'm going to rape you!" she hissed.
"No, no don't!" he shouted as she lowered her now bare hands over him to touch his neck.
"Oh now I should take mercy on you?" she said, instantly being flooded with his ugliness. "Give me ONE good reason I shouldn't stop you from EVER being able to do this to another woman? Prison isn't ever a guarantee, especially with the way you can manipulate a person's body. You forced reactions from my body, and they won't even be able to prove that it was against my will! I'm a mutant. You think they'll help me?"
The extreme pain he felt caused him to shout more and more for her to stop.
"How does it feel?" she asked him, not letting go, watching him wither away. "It'll be over in a second and you'll be dead. That's the least I can do for humanity."
She felt him die inside her head. She released him and pulled back, wanting to get away from his body. He was loud inside her head; angry, revengeful, and weak. But she kept him quiet; she beat him down. The other people she'd collected over the years were nice enough to help. Forcing him to nothing more than a whisper, and then a memory, she prided herself on the strength she did have inside her mind. The control she'd gained had all been worth it.
The man who'd saved her came over to her and took her by her sleeved covered shoulders.
"Come on, okay, let it go now-"
"Let go of me!" she shouted, pushing him off of her. "Thank you for getting him off me but don't touch me! Please!"
The sirens in the distance were beginning to sound as if they were getting closer.
"Listen to me," he shouted back at her. "You have to come with me right now or else you're gonna pay for something that I see no reason why you shouldn't have done. Are you gonna shut up and let me get you out of here or are you gonna screw yourself even more by resisting me?"
She heard the sirens get louder. She was not about to go to prison for being a mutant who'd used her powers to stop more horror.
"I'm not going to prison," she said.
He grabbed her arm.
"Then come on," he said, dragging her down the street and shoving her into his truck before speeding away like a maniac.
She was breathing heavily and trembling.
"Do you need me to call someone for you?"
"There's no one to call," she replied.
"There's no one?"
"No, there isn't."
"Alright, let me take you to a hospital-"
"No! I just got out of there. I got mugged and held at gunpoint and I'm not going back!" she cried furiously. "I'm not gonna go back there so they can question me and probe me and wipe evidence off my defiled skin. The man's dead and it's not like the evidence would be helpful in putting him away; I stopped him myself."
"Well, yeah but what about pregnancy and diseases?" he said, looking over at her and almost missing the road in the process.
"Would you just concentrate on the road and stop looking at me like I'm…just stop looking at me. I know he didn't have any diseases and my period ended yesterday. So if that's enough for you, just get me out of here and I'll find a way to pay you back. I can pay you whatever you want."
"Look! I'm trying to help you. How the hell do you know he doesn't have any diseases?"
"Because of my mutation! When I touched him I absorbed his powers and his memories, and whenever he rapes or has sex with someone, he can manipulate their blood and their fluids and he made sure that…that it wouldn't touch him. Okay? That's how I know! I have his mind inside me now but at least I killed him. I'm glad I killed him," she sobbed.
"Fine, there's no one you want me to call? You don't want me to take you to a hospital. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to drive to Melanie Street, which is that way less than a mile, and let me get my bag of belongings out of there."
"Okay, now we're making progress."
When they got there he pulled up to the side of the road and stopped. He looked at her. She was frozen, staring ahead into nothing.
"Hey," he said, not knowing what her name was yet. "I'll go get it."
"No, no!" she said frantically, grabbing him. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me alone in here, please."
She then closed her eyes and calmed down.
"I'm sorry, okay. Just so you know I changed my skin back so that if by accident I touch you I won't hurt you, okay? I won't hurt you and I won't…I don't know what I'm gonna do but would you not leave me in this truck alone? I had a gun to my head and then I was raped, I'm really not up for anything else tonight."
"Okay, okay, calm down," he said, removing her hands from his shoulders. "Fine, come with me."
"Okay," she said and she got her bag out of the storage.
Before she knew it they were driving again. He was frantic to calm her down, to help her, even though communication was never his strong suit.
"Okay, you've gotta help me out here now. What's your name?" he asked.
"My name is Rogue," she said, covering her eyes with her hand. "And I'm trying, I'm thinking, I'll think of something, would you just do me a favor and keep driving? I don't care where you go, just keep driving while I think."
"I'm not a taxi you know."
That was it. Fine, she'd give him something if he was such a goddamn asshole he couldn't just drive while she thought! She got her purse.
"You're not a taxi; you don't want me in here? Fine, here!" she said, throwing her money at him. "I'll pay you for stopping that guy and I'll pay you to just put up with me for a few minutes while I think of what the hell I'm going to do! I've got $700 here and you can have it and more if you'll just keep driving and protect me!" she cried at him.
He wanted to yell back at her but what the hell for? What was she really asking of him? To drive? He was the one who threw her in his truck in the first place and he'd scared her so bad that she'd thrown all her money at him.
"Look, I wasn't really planning this, but you tell me what you need me to do, okay?"
She removed her hands from her face and tried to push away the recurring nausea.
"T-talk about something else, please, just for a few minutes."
"Fine. You just threw $700 at me like that's an everyday thing?"
"One of the few things I have is money," she said, propping her elbow up against the console and placing her face in her hand.
"How much money? You're wearing a necklace with a bent clasp that didn't come from any place fancy."
"I don't like to dress like I'm rich because then people will only want one thing from me. Sudden, I'm only a bank. Every time I tell someone the only thing they can think of is how to get that money from me."
"So you're really rich," he said.
"Yes, I am."
"We talking millions?"
She sighed angrily and looked up at him.
"Millions would be a conservative estimate, yes."
"Then why the hell are you walking the streets at night instead of sleeping in a nice warm bed somewhere?"
"Because I'm on the run, okay?"
She saw the look in his eyes. She'd seen it a hundred times before.
"Listen to me, I don't know who you are, and I really am too terrified and fucked up right now to care, but I will pay you anything you want if you just drive me wherever you're going, I don't care if it's Alaska. I'll pay for everything on the way. Would you do that? Please?" she pleaded.
"What kind of trouble are you in?"
"I'm not sure yet. Would you just tell me yes or no so I can either relax or hop out of this truck and try to find someone else to get me the hell out of here?"
"How much you willing to pay?"
"You want a hundred thousand dollars?" she asked him angrily.
He looked at her like she was insane.
"What?" she blinked innocently. "I said I was worth…well like I said, millions is a conservative estimate. Do you want that? I just gave you $700 and if you just drive out of this town and take me to a hotel, I'll get you a hundred thousand dollars in the morning, in ADVANCE, before you take me anywhere else so you know you're not getting screwed, okay?"
She was going to give him a hundred thousand dollars? Just like that? No negotiating, no nothing. Something didn't make sense.
"Okay, you're willing to pay me a hundred thousand dollars to just keep driving 'till I stop? What the hell makes you trust me?"
"You saved my life tonight. If you were going to hurt me, I would assume you would've let him rape me and then you would've taken a turn yourself. And yeah, I'm willing to pay you that much. I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain, and I can give you whatever you need financially. Let me."
He looked at her face, so terrified and in shock and he'd have to be a way bigger asshole than he was to kick her out after he'd seen what had happened to her. This wasn't exactly how he liked to spend his nights either, but he'd involved himself, and now he was stuck.
"I'm not a charity case. I'll take you to a hotel and I'll take you along for the ride, fine. We'll work out the money details later."
He saw the relief wash over her face and she stopped breathing so heavily. She still trembled in fear and she still looked like she was in shock, but at least he'd given her one less thing to worry about. He continued driving but kept looking over at her every few seconds. She was scaring him. Wet tears hung at her chin and her ripped clothes were wrinkled and barely covering her degraded body.
He had no idea what to say so he said nothing until they got to the nearest hotel. When they got ready to go inside, he gave her his coat to cover what was obviously an attack on her. It was late, she was exhausted, and she was furious with what had been done to her. She handed the clerk one of her credit cards and waited.
"You okay?" he asked, concerned.
"I'm fine," she said quickly.
The clerk returned and handed her back her credit card.
"You've maxed out your hundred thousand dollar limit, ma'am."
"Oh," she said and pulled out another credit card. "Sorry about that, try this one."
He once again was startled and curious about who this woman was. There was obviously a lot more to her and her story than just tonight. She was in trouble and he wasn't particularly happy that he'd gotten involved in whatever this was, but at least there'd be someone to keep him awake on the way back to Montreal. And he'd get some extra cash for pretty much nothing. That was always a good thing.
They walked into their hotel room. There had only been one left and they decided to take it. She was too exhausted to go find another one. She set down her bag as he walked over to one of the beds and turned on the T.V. How like a guy.
"I'm…I'm gonna take a shower," she said, and walked into the bathroom.
He actually felt her pain with that comment. She felt dirty, that much was obvious. He could smell that guy on her too but he didn't think she could. She probably just felt disgusting in general, but she shouldn't. She hadn't agreed to anything, and that wasn't even remotely close to slutty. He could smell her tears now even through the walls and he turned up the volume to distract himself from smelling her pain.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Her throat had dried blood on it from where the knife had cut her. She had black tearstains covering her cheeks. She hadn't realized they were that bad. No wonder the clerk asked her if she was okay. Her hair was everywhere, tangled and messy. Her shirt was torn, revealing her bra and bruised skin. She had to get out of her clothes.
Her cries for help echoed in her mind and she saw herself on the hard, snowy sidewalk, her arms being held down by his mutation, her body doing what he wanted it to do. She ripped off her clothes and climbed into the shower, turning the water hot…hotter…so hot that it almost burned her skin. She barely felt it though, all she knew was that it had to be hot to burn off the infection of his rape she was now trapped in. The beads of water hit her skin and bounced off, leaving behind the redness she felt inside of her body every bit as much as it remained on the outside.
She was now fueled by disgust, by revulsion and she ran her hands over her breasts, down her stomach to the area between her legs where all the anger stemmed. She rubbed that area harder and harder until all natural moisture was gone and she began to go numb. She wanted to destroy her skin and start over. She'd had experience in hating her skin, but this was different.
This time someone had injected themselves beneath it, and the grotesque feeling spread like a virus infecting its prey. She hated it. She knew she couldn't make it go away. She leaned back against the wall and cried. The noise that the shower made allowed her to feel safe sobbing. Of course, she didn't know her roommate's mutation yet, and that he could hear her perfectly. She looked down at her hands. Her perfect fingernails still had traces of his skin and her blood beneath them. She washed them off, trying to rid herself of any evidence the violence of tonight had imprinted upon her.
When her skin was shriveled from the water, she shampooed and conditioned her thick, shiny hair and stepped out of the shower. She took a towel and wiped the mirror free of the fog and looked at herself, and her naked body. She saw her vulnerability and it tore her apart. She looked at the thin laceration outlining her neck and felt the blood trickle down. She looked down at her ripped and torn clothes. She wanted to be rid of them.
She wrapped a towel around her body and brushed her teeth and hair quickly before emerging from the bathroom with nothing more than that towel on. She walked over to the trash can and tossed her clothes in it.
Logan watched her walk back into the bathroom. When she emerged again, she was clothed in warm pajamas with her brunette hair combed, and for the first time, he noticed the white strands at the front. She crawled into the bed, covered herself and laid still. She tried to listen to whatever the hell he was watching on TV and concentrate on that. She didn't want her mind to go back to the rape but she knew that was practically inevitable.
An hour passed and he thought she'd gone to sleep…until he heard her shivering and her teeth chattering uncontrollably. It sounded like she was developing hypothermia or something. He got up and sat on the edge of her bed, placing his hands over her covered body.
"Rogue?" he said, thankful that he'd remembered her name.
He'd never been too good at remembering women's names.
"I-I'm cold," she chattered.
He ripped the blanket off his bed and covered her with it. She was shaking beyond control.
"That's it! I'm taking you to a hospital."
"No you're not! I'm fine. I'm just…cold. I might be in shock but I'm not going to be monitored and scraped and questioned, got it?"
He sighed angrily. Why was she begin so goddamned difficult?
"Would you believe I'm not making a pass at you if I put my arms around you for body heat?"
She couldn't help but exhale a laugh at that, which surprised him. A laugh was the last thing he expected out of her tonight but he didn't have a problem with it. She was still shaking like there was no tomorrow.
"I'll take that as a yes," he said, crawling onto the bed, remaining on top of the covers but pulling her to him to cover her body with his warmth. "You'll be warm in a minute," he promised her.
"T-thank you," she whispered. "I won't be this big of a pain in the ass tomorrow," she said.
"Why do I doubt that?" he growled.
Finally, she did stop shaking. His body warmth went into her and though it was a little terrifying to have some guy who shot metal claws out of his hands holding her, she figured that since he'd used the claws against her rapist she'd be fine. She tried to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~~~~~