Punch. Punch. Block. Kick. It was your everyday sparring match. Punch. Block. Block. Jump. It was everyday since she graduated, since she became an official X-Men. Dodge. Kick. Punch. Punch. Dodge. Every single day. She slipped off the skin tight wrist length gloves and reached out as the tall man in front of her stumbled back. She quickly suppressed the man's psyche as it came in.
"Hello there, Rogue."
She swiftly turned, kicking her new opponent in the gut. As Rogue stretched forward to touch the woman before her, she grabbed Rogue's wrist, pulling her down. The woman rolled over, pinning Rogue down.
"Now, is that really the smartest move?" Mystique began. "I just came over here for a little talk."
Rogue narrowed her eyes and perched her lips, suspicious, but stopped trying to knock Mystique off her body.
"I have a proposition for you." Mystique continued.
"Get off of me and maybe I'll listen." Rogue spat, her tone coarse, hostile.
Mystique obeyed.
"I have convinced Magneto to give you a spot on the team, if you accept." Mystique began.
"Why would you do that? Why would you even think that-"
"You may not see it but your power has a lot of potential. You could do great things with us." Mystique reasoned.
"I would never use my powers to help you."
"But what if there was something in it for you?"
"You're trying to bribe me. Don't even bother."
"Her intentions are not malicious, my dear." Magneto said, approaching the two women., settling beside Mystique. "We are trying to help you Rogue."
"As if you could help me."
"Then Mystique hadn't explained yet." Magneto examined. "Rogue we would like to help you learn control."
"Excuse me?" Rogue said, half in anger and half in shock.
"Xavier will never be able to help you do that." Magneto began.
"And how do you figure that?" Rogue asked.
"Xavier is a kind man, yes? Generous. Charitable, even? He takes in orphaned mutants and teaches them control, gives the a dream and a purpose, yes? To fight with the X-Men. Protect humans from the likes of me."
"Exactly. You're the villain. Professor X is the hero. I know what side I'm on. You're wasting your time."
"Except he hasn't taught you control, has he? You're not even working toward it."
"You know we're right." Mystique added in.
"We can help you," Magneto continued, his eyes darting around Rogue's face, deciphering her expression. "but you will have to help us in exchange."
Rogue glanced at her gloves, a nausea invading the pit of her stomach and a stiffness getting into her jaw. She didn't know what to think exactly, but she knew they weren't wrong. With an apprehensive glance, she backed away from the two, toward the jet to join her team. It seemed, for now, she'd formed some sort of truce with the Brotherhood. She left them unharmed, and they just watched her walk away.
It's not like she hadn't known, like she hadn't seen this coming, but somehow the reality of it hurt more now than the suspicion. Rogue had known better than to ask, to bring up the painful topic of control, knowing that if there was something the X-Men could do for her, they'd of done it. But after the promise had been so close, especially because of who had promised her, she had to bring it up, she had to ask. And she got from the X-Men exactly what she had been dreading.
"Our powers are like muscles. We use them and they get stronger. We use them and we learn to control them. That's how we teach everyone control here. The problem is that without using your powers Marie, you will never gain control and to use them would have dire consequences."
And so Rogue laid in bed, the sheets tangled be her feet, her tried to settle. She would never learn control here, and that had to be okay. She had to accept that as enough. Because otherwise, she'd have to join the Brotherhood, and she couldn't do that. She couldn't do that.
'I couldn't hurt people just to gain control, could I?'
Yes, you could.
'Would it really be worth it?'
Yes, it would.
'Could I hurt people just to satisfy my own selfish aspirations?'
You will. You will. You know that you will.
She was torn between two bad options. She could stay with the X-Men and never know the feel of human contact, real human contact, ever again, or she could join the Brotherhood, learn to control her powers, and hurt people in exchange, to use her abilities to further their cause. Which was worse? She wanted to say the Brotherhood. But her everyday rituals of avoiding contact wore her down. Her gloves suddenly felt heavy, itchy, superfluous. The way she purposefully moved her body away from everyone around her, when walking down the halls, when getting food at the cafeteria, like she was having to make herself smaller all the time, less there, to protect everyone around her when no one was protecting her, all of it suddenly struck her more. She'd always been lonely here, but it was poignant, crushing, forever. And that's what made her decision, that crushing weight of forever. The X-Men were asking her to sacrifice too much and not offering her enough.
She knew it was selfish; she knew it was dangerous; she knew it was ungrateful. But that didn't matter if she could be free. She knew freedom would be worth it. She hoped freedom would be worth it.
Her bags were packed, and she could hear people talking. Looking out the window she saw a game of touch football, skins vs shirts, like every Sunday morning. She patted her bags, sure of her decision, waiting for Logan to come so she could say goodbye, because soon it would be as if she had never stepped foot in the mansion and only those who knew her would be proof that she had actually been an X-Men once. After this betrayal, surely she would never be again
Knock. Knock.
There was the faint sound that she had been waiting for.
"Hey there." Her voice was low and weak. She sounded beaten, emotionally destroyed.
He looked past her into the room and to her packed bags.
"Going somewhere?" A gruff voice asked.
"That's what it looks like." She willed her voice to sound sure and it did, but her weakness still shone through stronger than the clarity of her decision.
She stepped aside to let the man in. He slid a hand over the nightstand that stood to the right of her bed. The pictures that had once lay there were gone, the lamp and book had disappeared. The nightstand itself showed marks of her things with rims of dust that would be soon wiped away.
"I still have a few things in Bobby's room, but I think I'll just leave them. I don't feel like facing him right now."
The tall man let out a sigh which sounded angry and unforgiving. "That'll be easier for you."
"Logan." she warned, "you're one to talk."
"Why are you running, Stripes?"
She couldn't stand strong against that question. She turned away, walked toward the window and pulled the curtains together, blocking out the laughter, the playing, the freedom of not having a poisonous touch. For several moments the two mutants were still and quiet in the now unlit room.
"It's just something I have to do for me."
He nodded, thinking he understood. Rogue knew he didn't, and knew she couldn't risk correcting him. She her quasi-father a hug, hoping he could forgive her and thanked him again for saving her life. As she left, he threw her a proud, approving smile, thinking she'd come back in a few months stronger and more at peace.