Authors Notes: Sort of a prequel to 'Strawberry Gashes' but it's stands alone fine. Laura/Rogue as is the current trend with myself.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-men: evolution, nor do I own the song 'Vivica' by Jack Off Jill.


He'll Never Say You're Beautiful.


Oh Vivica I wish you well I watch you burn in humid hell

At first it was just people watching, acquainting herself with the general habits of the occupants of Xavier's institute, trying to dissect her fellow students. Learn how they were them in hopes of becoming someone. There were people who prayed, people who played and people who listened to ear offending music. Then Laura saw her. Her with the eye's reflecting them all at once, so confused and alone. So self doubting and clouded. So Rogue.

No sleeping pills no old tattoos will save you now

Laura saw many things, things the others didn't even know to look for. The pills and plasters for example. Bottle caps and faded ink. Rogue was trying to find herself too, the her within all the others that clouded her psyche. The her that was separate from all that everyone had done to her. She captivated Laura, not the her she was trying to find, the her she was, the her that Laura would never have a hope in hell of being.

He'll never change he's just too vague he'll never say you're beautiful

Then there was him. Remy LeBeau. Suave womanizing thief intent on stealing her Rogues heart simply because he could. It burnt to see, Laura wanted to grab Rogue by her pale gentle shoulders and tell her, show her, he doesn't care. But she didn't. She couldn't. He'd break her Rogue and she couldn't stop it. It would mean tainting Rogue with her essence, and it was better Rogue be broken than septic.

Oh Vivica I wish you well I really do, I really do

She watched it all, she saw how wrong it was going. How much he would hurt her. But she tried to tell herself that she was wrong. What did she know? She couldn't even say how she felt, how could she have any hope of helping Rogue, of knowing what the toxic gothic goddess needed. Though she could say she knew she wanted the best for her. It wasn't even really a matter of her wanting. She knew Rogue deserved the best. The best was not Remy LeBeau, but it wasn't her either.

The apple falls far from the tree

Then there was the even more curious matter of her Rogues mother. Mystique. Raven Darkhome. So far departed from her Rogue. Laura saw all the pain dripping from Rogue like a sodden sponge pushed to it's extremes when Mystique tried to help. But from her outsiders perch she saw what Rogue was unable to, the haphazard care densely veiled in her mothers actions. The awkwardly presented motherly love that Mystique knew even less how to give than Rogue knew how to receive. So alike, yet so unalike. Much like Laura and her dear mother, so different yet so the same.

She's rotten and so beautiful

The more she watched the more defined the flaws became, the louder the screams echoed. While others would be disheartened to find this macabre vision was far from the sullen perfection her skin advertised Laura became even more entranced by it. Her Rogue was a person, a real person, complete with hideously beautiful scars and stories she'd rather no one knew. A past. Person history, shames, hurts, broken and fragmented paper hearts the world wasn't worthy of seeing. Her Rogue so much more than she, Laura Kinney, than X23 could ever hope to be.

I'd like to keep her here with me and tell her that she's beautiful

Pointless daydreams crept into her head; her keeping her Rogue safe. Showing her the things so astonishing about her. Showing her the wonder her scars held. But she never would, she wasn't worthy. Stoic protector was the best she could manage. How could she hope to be anything more with such a filthy soul? She simply couldn't. Rogue would never want her. Laura would never allow Rogue to display such masochism anyway. Her Rogue would never be hers. That was the way it should always be. She'd never let the fragile beauty melt into her murderous arms.

She takes the pills to fall asleep and dreams that she's invisible

She used to watch Rogue sleep, until she could no longer mentally justify it with a need to protect the girl. Still, the sight remained ingrained in her psyche. Tiny white pills all washed down in hopes that the constant wailing would silence. Brown and white hair framing a motionless face, serene, her pools of confused fear out of sight. Such stillness that Laura always found herself comparing Rogue to a corpse. A beautiful, untouchable corpse. Quite how she became a corpse would always vary, but the beauty that only the dead could obtain always remained.

Tormented dreams she stays awake recalls when she was capable...

The pills would wear off, or sometimes Laura noted that they didn't seem to work at all. That whatever it was that drove Rogue to such measures was fighting back with sometimes inexhaustible gusto. It pained Laura to see that, the twitches under the covers, silent tears for no one to see but Laura could smell them. The salty water oozing from her anguish laden eyes. And it hurt Laura. Her heart ached. Hurt. Not like the hurt when she felt when she slashed into her dirtied flesh. Real, selfless, caring hurt.

Oh Vivica I wish you well I watch you sit I watch you dwell

All Laura could really do was watch as her Rogue stewed in her woe. Watching the misery ferment from a safe distance. But for whose safety? Did doing nothing help Rogue? Laura always reasoned that she'd do far more damage if she tried to intervene. If her past had taught her anything at all it was that all she was, all she ever could be is a destroyer. A weapon. She was only capable of being people's homicidal puppet, wasn't she?

He'll never change he's not that brave He'll never say you're beautiful

The deeper Rogues infatuation with Remy became the louder that strange voice in Laura's head screamed. It tried to make her do something to stop the inevitable, but wasn't it all the inevitable? That voice, was it conscience or madness? Is there even a difference? The more she thought the less it all made sense. She knew things, she wasn't stupid. She could tell you anything, unless you ask her abut real things. The real things you can't see, things the books can't teach you, she was too broken to know those for sure. So who was she to tell Rogue Remy wasn't good enough for her, that he didn't mean anything he said? What could Laura say anymore than X23?

I'd like to keep her here with me and tell her that she's beautiful

She'd like nothing more than to just to be near here, than to be the one she relied on for protection. The one she, the one Rogue, her Rogue, trusted with her very life. With more than her life, with her secrets. With her everything. All those too heavy burdens. But she knew that would never be, she'd never let it be. She's never let something to beautiful near her, ever. Ever.

Oh Vivica I wish you well I'll sit right here I'll never tell

As far as she tried to be is as close as she ended up, inadvertently. With her Rogue assuming she hates her, or that she doesn't care. Or that she just isn't even a person anymore. Like they all think, not on the surface, but deep inside they do. Deep where it matters they see you as a weapon. Blind, strong, to be controlled. She wanted to tell her that she's real. She's real. But she can't. She can't tell anyone.

She's empty and so beautiful

Then Laura saw it, the empty pocket of nothingness in her Rogue, the complete absence of something and not human touch. Something deeper. Something stronger. Something Laura couldn't quite comprehend, but still something she knew was there. Something she lacked too. She'd stand guard until she saw her Rogue get that something. Maybe, maybe then she'd be worthy of it too.

I'll keep her here with me