DISMAL ANGEL REVELATIONS

Episode 3: Home

Chapter 1: Hurt

Rogue stared horrified across the Hospital Wing to where Bobby Drake was standing. The man could control the moisture in the air, turn it into frost and ice...but nothing his powers could cause could ever be colder than the look he was giving her. The room dropped several degrees in temperature, and Rogue saw her breath mist against the air.

Professor Xavier, Jean Grey and Hank McCoy – all of who were standing with her in the hospital wing beside Remy's bed, exchanged glances with each other; the tension in the air was thick – so thick even Logan's adamantium claws probably wouldn't have even been able to cut through it.

"Bobby...I..." she began, her voice still full of emotion from the tears she'd shed when she'd thought Remy to be lost to her forever.

He didn't give her time to finish, he spun around and went through the doors.

"Shit..." Rogue uttered, she took off running after him. "Bobby, wait!"

Bobby stopped in the hall, he swung around to look at her, "I knew it, I fucking knew it, Rogue," he snarled.

"What did you know?" she asked timidly.

"I knew the moment he set foot in this place again you were gonna go running back to him and start fawning over him again like a sad little groupie!"

She folded her arms, looking away from him, "It's not that easy to turn my back on it when he's here, Bobby," she confessed sadly, "I have a history with him."

"Oh I know you do, this whole mansion knows you have a history with Gambit, Rogue," he said, "the fights you two have have had all over this goddamn place are legendary. The tragedy, the screaming, the coming and going, the crying and depression. You think I don't know you have a history with that useless lump in there?"

"He's not useless."

"That's just your opinion," Bobby uttered, the disdain in his voice was wicked, he didn't sound like himself anymore, but like someone else, a lover scorned, a person betrayed.

"I can't help loving who I love, Bobby. Anymore than you can," she pointed out.

"So what has this whole relationship been to you? A joke?" he demanded.

"Of course not!" Rogue defended.

"I've spent six months trying to connect with you, being there for you, listening to your problems...what was I? Just a substitute for him? Just someone to be there for you until the ragin' cajun decided to return?"

"Don't be stupid," Rogue rolled her eyes at him.

"That's just it, I don't think I am being stupid. I think my reaction is perfectly warranted considering what I just God damn saw."

Rogue leaned against the wall, she didn't know what else to say to him.

"So what's next, Rogue? Picking up where you left off until the next big thing he does ticks you off and he picks up and leaves you again?"

"I don't know," she answered quietly. "He's...he's the love of my life, Bobby...and he always will be. I can't change that. If I could pick up and walk away from him and just not feel anything for him, I would – but it's not that easy."

"All he is, Rogue, is a habit. And habits can be broken, all you have to do is ween yourself away from him..."

"Like I said, it's not that easy," Rogue said, she frustratedly ran a hand through her hair.

"Why? What makes it so God damn hard, Rogue?"

She paused, "it's like...being near him is being complete."

"Bullshit," Bobby said, "this is about lust and want, not love and completeness," he spat, "and the sooner you realise being with him is going to take you down like a lion takes down an antelope, the sooner you can ditch his useless waster ass and get over him."

There was a long silence between them, Bobby paced back and forth between the walls, which were beginning to frost up. "I spent six months trying to make things better for you, trying to be what you needed, you've never given me a chance," he uttered finally.

"I'm sorry," Rogue said softly, "I don't know what else to say to you," she added, and she didn't. She knew she couldn't fix it, she knew whatever relationship they had was over and their friendship was probably too far gone now to recover from this. There was nothing that could be said to make anything any better.

"I just wanna know what it is about him, why he has this...this stupid hold on you..."

Rogue leaned back against the wall, "I don't know what it is about him," she admitted, "he's infuriating, full of himself, and he drives me crazy...but...when I look at him...when I'm near him..."

Bobby frowned.

"There's no explanation for it, Bobby...I just...feel so much for him that it shadows everything else in my life...even you..." she looked at him, her eyes softening. "I wish deep in my heart that I could feel that way for you...it'd make life so uncomplicated and safe and wonderful..." she moved over to him, he stood, watching her, his eyes cold, but full of emotion. She reached up and touched her face with her gloved hand, "I know if I could love you my life would be happy, that you'd never hurt me, never make me cry..." she stroked his cheek, "but I can't."

He looked away from her, his mouth tight.

"I love you, Bobby...but I'm not in love with you. I think I was fooling myself that I ever could try to love anyone else but him...it's not you, Bobby, it's me, and you know that..."

Bobby swallowed, "so this is over then..." his blue eyes were glassy, but she could see no tears would be shed for her. There was far too much anger for that.

She gave a soft nod, "I'm so sorry..." she tenderly said, she brushed her thumb over her cheek, hoping that small intimacy, that small attempt at comfort, would be enough to still the anger she could see burning in his cold blue eyes.

"Don't, okay, just don't," he pushed her away from him and turned, "just don't talk to me again," he uttered icily and he began to walk way, tendrils of frost creeping along the walls as he did.

She sighed, seeing her breath misting against the icy air as she watched him walking away from her. I never wanted for him to get hurt, she thought sadly.

"He'll forgive you – eventually. You know Bobby, he's a hothead, but he always calms down after a while," came a voice near her back, she turned to see Jean standing there, Jean had overheard the whole thing from the Hospital wing since their voices had been so loud.

"I doubt he's going to forgive me for this," Rogue lamented, "I don't blame him for being angry. I...I guess I did betray him...I just wish we could have left it on better terms – I wish I'd had time to explain things to him before he caught me saying what I did to Remy...it might have made things so much easier for him – for us both."

"I doubt he'd take it calmly no matter how early he was warned about the situation," Jean tucked a lock of her red hair behind her ear, "but he'll simmer down, and he'll move on."

"I hope so."

"What now for you?"

"I don't know," Rogue answered honestly, "baby steps, I guess."

Jean gave a nod, "a wise decision. We don't want to see you hurt again," she touched Rogue's shoulder comfortingly.

Rogue sighed once again, "Being hurt is just part of being in love."

Kitty was clearing away the breakfast dishes in the kitchen that following morning – the one task that everyone in the mansion didn't seem to mind her doing despite her pregnancy. The kitchen was quiet apart from the low hum of the radio, Elton John's 'Rocket Man' was softly was softly drifting over the room. Kitty glanced over her shoulder to the kitchen table where six year old Jessie Crowell was kneeling on a chair leaning over a crayon drawing of what looked like the mansion.

Kitty felt a rush of love for the small girl who had been orphaned since the age of two and had lived most of her life in an orphanage where she'd been outcast because of her mutant abilities. The girl had long tawny blonde hair that was straight, but tousled at the ends so that it almost curled but not quite. She had large blue-grey eyes that reminded Kitty of horizon storms, and a peaches and cream complexion.

Leaving the sink and wiping her wet hands off on a dishcloth, Kitty moved over to the table, "whatcha drawin'?" she asked in a childish voice. Jessie loved it when she used that voice, maybe because for a moment she could pretend that Kitty was her age.

"The mansion," Jessie smiled and turned the picture towards Kitty, "whatcha think?"

Kitty smiled too, "it's very nice..." she had to admit the six year old had some artistic talent, the colours were vivid and perfect, even in the crude childish way they were carelessly scribbled over the lines. "You're a very good drawer."

Jessie grinned her impish grin, she took a new sheet of paper out and started to draw a large oval, "I'm going to draw you now," she said.

"Oooh," Kitty beamed, "can I be a princess?" she slipped into a chair and watched her drawing.

The girl giggled, "okay."

"You'll make me pretty, right?" Kitty asked.

"Duh," said Jessie, "You're already pretty," she pointed out.

"I don't feel it today," Kitty admitted, perhaps in a very adult way that she was sure might have been a little too much to confess to the six year old girl.

Jessie looked at her, "why?"

"Look at me, kid, I'm big as a house, I look like a beachball on legs," she smirked.

"When are you going to have the baby?" Jessie asked, sounding very adult about it.

"In two and a half weeks," Kitty answered.

"When you do, can I hold it?"

"Maybe," Kitty smiled, "we'll see."

Jessie went back to drawing, "when it's Christmas, will I have to go back to the orphanage?" she asked suddenly, sounding very distressed, she didn't look at Kitty, but instead picked up a brown crayon to draw in lines of brown hair.

This question threw Kitty off guard, "No...why would you ask such a thing?"

"All the other kids are talking about going home for Christmas..." Jessie dropped the brown crayon and picked up a pink one to draw lips on the large white oval, "they say everyone has to go home for Christmas...and the orphanage is my home..." Jessie pointed out, her voice tiny.

"No...no no no," Kitty stopped her from drawing, "Look at me, Jessie," she said firmly.

Jessie raised her large stormy blue eyes to Kitty's, her lip pouting, feeling as if she might have done or said something terribly wrong.

"You are home. This is your home, kiddo. You're never going back to that orphanage, you hear me? Never," Kitty promised. She almost felt like crying to think that Jessie had worried so much she'd be sent back there, back where no one cared because of her mutant abilities.

"Promise?"

"Promise."