Author's note: I must admit, I am currently having trouble sleeping, all week long actually and since there was nothing to do, actually there is but i preffered doing this. I adjusted the story, it's still the same story, well, except the end, so that it would adapt to a post X·3 point of view. So I took the liberty of adding in new characters and taking way old one.

Disclaimer: I am preparing a document to send to Stan Lee to see if he likes my insight on Rogue, movie Rogue that is, but till he sees it and agrees to pass her on to me, X-Men belongs to him, the original creator.


Thanks to my muse: "I can still feel him inside my head.", that movie quote still has me hooked! And i would've have added other quotes from the third movie, but i decided to just go with references, there weren't that much great quotes i X·3 as in the others, which was another thing i loved about them.

"I can still feel him inside my head"


Once again, she couldn't sleep. It always happened, the night engulfed the mansion, lights were out by ten, and she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to think. Of course, whether it was Logan, John, Eric, Paul or Bobby, she was never able to sort her thoughts.

The moonlight filtrated cautiously into the room, afraid to wake the other occupants. Rogue watched the shadows play with the moonlight, trying to figure out why. But the reason never came. She felt lonely, even with all the voices in her head she was lonely.

She believed that stripping herself of her power would make the voices go away, but it didn't. And she was even more disappointed upon learning that the cure wasn't permanent, ever since then she covered herself up again, she doesn't really know if she has gotten it back yet or not, but she's not the type to take the risk and wonder around sleeveless, in sandals, and, more importantly, gloveless waiting for the moment in which by some mistake she'd realize her powers returned. No, she didn't need another voice telling her another opinion, clouding her thoughts.

Logan kept thinking to take another road trip, looking for a bar to spend the night. Eric always had different memories about Poland to share, and in any case, it only enabled for Rogue to believe that he was starting to develop and understand his powers during the stay there. Paul, her dear friend, the only one with happy thoughts, but mostly of the ones she wanted the most to go away, how beautiful her lips and eyes looked, how he'd yearned to kiss them, how impossible her trip to Canada seemed. John, something was pissing him off, no matter what, mostly a general envy for Bobby and everyone that he knew. Bobby, he was always confused about her, why she said her to a relationship, why she took the cure, why he had yearned for her so much and when she is available, doesn't.

All of this was too much to cope. Clutching her pillow tight, she still had the sentiments inside of her; she knew that she was all alone in the world. No matter how much the people around her tried to convince her that she belonged here, and she tried to think that there is a place were she is meant to belong, be it here or not she'd find it eventually.

"Best day of my life…" she whispered slowly, trying to believe that she'd had worse or that tomorrow could be worse. But she never was able to really believe it. I'm for real, this mutation is a part of me, I walk around like a parasite, unable to reach for anyone since I take too much of them for myself.

A lonely tear streamed to the side of her eye. She yearned for it all: closeness, a mind of her own, normal life, touch... But it is all impossible.

Ororo said it to her in the first day, there was nothing that could hold back her curse; the school is for control… But there is no way of controlling it. Touch is natural to all beings; touch is an interaction between all beings. Touch… she yearned it so much.

Paul died, she knew it, no one ever told her, but when his thoughts stopped changing she knew, the coma could only last for so long before it consumed him. Eric greatly wished for power, that's all he wanted, "There is no land of tolerance, there is no peace, not here nor anywhere else", he'd said that to her in New York, it somehow didn't feel so long ago, but it was, five years ago.

Bobby feared her, distrusted her, and even worse loathed her for choosing to take the cure… These thoughts corrupted her mind, made her self-esteem drop, she was sulky during class, constantly ate less and less… Logan had promised he'd look after her, but right now he had changed so much, she could easily leave the mansion that he was having so much trouble dealing with the loss of Jean and seeming in control for the sake of everybody else in the mansion, she could tell that he no longer cared for her. If she left the mansion, he would notice a month later, if he noticed at all. "There's not many people that'll understand what your going through," he said that to her when she was running again, she stayed behind, but then again, probably not even him has understood what she is going through, he is even more troubled than her. And John, dear John, he everyday talked about him wanting to be close to her, which only depressed her more, he was not here anymore, and she was not with Bobby now, that made his absence more unbearable that in was before. If he were her she still couldn't touch him, but in a way, they both were similar. His family had countered him when his mutation surfaced, he burned down their house. Many wounds, he didn't wait for them to heal before leaving.

They all controlled her emotions, and pulled her in opposite directions; she wasn't who she used to be. She's no longer Marie. She became Rogue, the person that lures everyone, entrapping them inside her head. Keeps them in her head. It was crowded, the amount if "I" in her mind was overwhelming, during the day when she looked at someone each one had a different reaction, eventually she stopped looking at people. Whenever Kitty, Xavier or Scott cornered her to talk, it wasn't her speaking. The word 'Bub' came out of her mouth, but it didn't feel right, or the Dude from John.

The pillow in her arms, still clutched on top of her chest, made her take the pain from her mind to her hands, which were starting to lose the capacity of circulation due to the strength that she unforced between them, the pillow became unmovable. She felt alone. No matter what, she'd always be alone. Because if she ever got close to anyone else, the process would repeat, she'd lure them and after the first touch they'd fade away. Paul died, John left within hours, Eric has no idea, Bobby finished their relationship and after that rarely talked to her, Logan kept trying to find himself, and he had so much to deal with, he wasn't who he used to be to her.

She herself was becoming more and more introverted, autistic at some point, people around her she couldn't know what they thought, not only because they didn't dare to mention it and because she wouldn't dare touch them to find out, It would just increase the crowd in her head.

Rogue laid in the heart of darkness, with a clutched pillow on her chest and thoughts that were not hers taking over, the loneliness was becoming ritual and tradition. There wasn't anything much besides reclusion left for her.


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