This is a new story idea from me, focused on Rogue's powers and the personalities she has absorbed over time. Have a read and tell me what you think!

Out of my Mind

Chapter 1

"Rogue! Ms. Munroe's history class begins in, like, five minutes! C'mon, get your but outta bed!"

Kitty Pryde's voice came floating through the closed wooden door of Rogue's bedroom. Rogue was laid on her back on top of her bed covers, fully clothed and watching the ceiling. She admired the way the morning sunshine filtered through the diamond leaded windows, casting attractive patterns of light into her room.

"I'll be down in a minute, you go on," called Rogue, her eyes remaining fixed on the ceiling. However, Rogue had no plans of going to Storm's history lesson. And she felt no remorse when Kitty cheerfully replied 'ok!' and hurried off. Lately, Rogue hadn't had the energy to go to her lessons, and her absences were beginning to become noticeable. The first few times, she had been able to get away with it with feigned illness. She could do a real trick with stomach cramps, more particularly with Scott Summer's, who didn't want to hear anything about the female menstruation cycle within his English classroom. Storm was harder to fool, but Logan was always on hand between lesson time to defend Rogue and ask why her teachers were giving her trouble.

Whilst Storm never took notice of Logan's threats, she had gone a little easier on Rogue the next time she fell 'ill'. But now, it was the third month in a row and all the teachers were becoming suspicious.

But Rogue didn't care. They didn't understand. She felt drained and lifeless most of the time now. Only finding comfort as she lay in her room, surrounded in peace and letting her head sooth her anxiety. The ironic thing was, the only thing that could really calm her down, was a cause of the thing upsetting her in the first place. Her mutation. Her dangerous energy-sucking skin that left her feared by some and pitied by others. Rogue didn't appreciate either of these views. But during her time with the deadly mutation, the people she had touched had been absorbed into her head. Their abilities she couldn't access anymore. Only after the initial touch did she get a surge of power that coursed through her like fire. The blind wave of powers after the initial contact only lasted for a few minutes, until the rush subsided and she was left physically and mentally drained.

But it was after that, in moments like this, where she was in silence. She was aware of the fact that the personalities she absorbed hadn't really left her. She could feel them, flitting through her head as though they were pacing back and forth across her mind. She found herself preferring it this way, when she drifted off.. for the people inside her head weren't afraid of her. They knew her perfectly. They knew everything about her because they were living alongside the rest of her mind. They knew that her favourite colour was green; they knew she liked to have pancakes for breakfast, and knew how annoyed she was when some younger mutant got them first in the mornings. They even knew of the time she got a new paddling pool when she was six, and ended up slipping and breaking her wrist.

No one outside her mind knew her that well.

The first personality she had even absorbed was David, he was also the first boy she had ever kissed. But David seemed to shy away from the forefront of her mind, perhaps intimidated by the next personality that joined him, the rough and brutal Wolverine. But Rogue knew otherwise to that churlish exterior. Wolverine was an important voice inside her head, a leading one. He consoled her, helped her. He was there when the real version wasn't. He even kept the third personality at bay, Magneto, who at times could be polite and civilised, until Rogue witnessed a news report on a mutant protest and his anger would almost send her into tears, where she would flee the television room to leave her confused friends behind.And then Bobby, her gentle boyfriend. His personality wanted to be close to her mentally if his outer form couldn't, but Logan and he were usually against each other. For some reason, Rogue didn't see the Bobby in her head as her boyfriend. She didn't prefer his presence. And lasty, there was Pyro, usually the one spurring on Logan and Bobby's heated moments.

However, having an argument inside your head was just weird, especially when you were the topic of someone else's dispute.

Sometimes, she was sure she imagined the conversations in her head. The personalities seemed to speak for themselves, but she couldn't quite understand the situation her mutation put her in. She could always feel her victims inside her head for ages afterwards; at first she had hated it, the alien feeling distressing her terribly. But then, as she cried to sleep at night, she realised that the feelings inside her head tried to comfort her, like she was a dear friend, and her pain hurt them too.

And as she lay on her bed that morning, she could sense the most important personality come to the forefront of her mind, easily getting her attention. Wolverine was always sensitive to Rogue's mutation, ever since it had been used against him when he stabbed her.

"Skippin' out on classes again, huh?"

"I'm not going to be reprimanded by a voice in my head."

"That's rich."

"I'd tell you to shut up if it made sense."

This was something Rogue had fallen into habit with. Having mental conversations with the personalities in her head. However, Rogue saw no issue with it, the personalities in her head were just as intelligent and as in-depth as their real counterparts. The only problem she had was splitting up the real people to the mental ones. It was only last week she had attempted to remind the real Logan of the joke about when the cactus walked into a bar, but he had given her a shocked look, adamant he had never told her anything of the sort.

"I know you're only missing class so you can talk to me," came Logan's voice reproachfully across her mind, though Rogue was sure she heard a tone of arrogance.

Rogue would've liked to deny his point, but seeing as he knew everything she knew, that was hard. "So?" she replied.

"You'd be better talking to the Professor."

"No! I don't need him! I just need you."

"Marie.. I don't exist.. you can't see me."

"Yeah well, it's not my fault the real you treats me like a kid."

"If the real me knew what I knew, he would see you as much more than that."

Rogue felt her eyes beginning to burn with tears. Her emotions were always haywire when she concentrated on the personalities inside her head. But she couldn't help it; she just wished the Logan in her head acted the same in the real world. She closed her eyes, blocking out the vision of her bedroom and allowing her burning tears to build up in the blackness. She gazed into the darkness, just wishing she could get into her own head, delve into the hidden areas and prise Logan out of her mind so she could have him as the real Logan, the one who knew her so well and understood her.

"Talk to the real me," said Logan softly, his tone soothing. "Not the one in your head."

"No!" she exclaimed loudly, her reply not in her head, but vocalising from her mouth and echoing across her silent bedroom. With a gasp of tears she sat upright, holding her head in her hands as she sobbed. She knew she was too dependent on the personalities in her head. But they felt like her best friends, who would never go against her.

Logan's curious voice cut across her tears, "Marie? What are you doin'?"

"What?" asked Rogue into her hands. Pushing tears away she raised her head, her stinging eyes opening. Or so she thought. The blackness beneath her closed lids was not replaced by her sunlit bedroom, but instead stayed in the impenetrable darkness. She gave a frightened gasp, staring around, desperately trying to look around. "What's happened? I'm blind!"

"You fainted," informed Logan's voice, sounding a lot closer than it had previously.

"Logan, help me," gasped Rogue softly, feeling a fresh wave of panic overcome her. She felt a warm hand clasp her gloved wrist, and with a startled cry she turned her head, Logan's face swimming into view through the surrounding darkness. "Logan?" she asked quietly.

"I'm here," he said softly, "It's alright. You fell unconscious."

"Why is it so dark in my room?"

Rogue was sure she saw Logan frown, "Marie.. you're not in your room.. this is your mind."

This is a potential short story, would you like to see more?
Reuploaded: Forgot Pyro! I feel ashamed, lol.