CHAPTER 2

Rogue paused in the doorway of the mansion's lounge. Several of the students were relaxing in between lessons. She saw a group of the girls from her age group sitting together and recognised Jubilee and Siryn among them. She took a deep breath and went over to them. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Most of them didn't even look at her. The ones that did had nothing but scorn in their expressions. Then, as one, they got up and walked away, Siryn somehow managing to misjudge the distance so she shoved Rogue out of the way as she passed.

Rogue sank into the vacated sofa, defeated. At a nearby table, three of the younger boys, Artie, Jones and Leech, were looking at her. The moment she looked at them though, they quickly averted their gaze. Rogue looked ahead of her, sitting in silence.

"You okay?"

It took her several seconds to realise the comment was directed at her. When she looked round, she saw Kitty standing in the doorway, looking at her.

"Fine,"she replied,"except as far as everyone here is concerned I'm the enemy."

Kitty seemed to consider the comment for a few seconds. "Do you think all mutants should be made to have the cure?"she asked at last.

"No,"Rogue answered firmly.

"Do you think we should all be taken out and shot?"

"No."

"Do you think co-operation between humans and mutants is impossible and one of us needs to wipe out the other?"

"No."

"Then as far as I can see, you're not the enemy."

Rogue could tell Kitty was trying to be nice and she appreciated it, not many people had done that recently. But the words didn't offer her much comfort. "It's not as simple as that, though, is it? I sold out. Everyone else is planning Mutant Pride marches and I took the cure, decided to stop being a mutant. I don't even know why I'm still here. I should get out, just lead a normal life. But I can't. Because cured or not, my family aren't going to want me back."

"Maybe that's because your real family aren't out there,"Kitty suggested quietly,"Maybe we're here."

Rogue stared at her hard. She was about to reply when there was a sudden outburst of noise in the corridor. An outraged voice which she didn't recognise, coupled with surprised exclamations from other students. Kitty looked behind her and then beckoned Rogue over to see.

Rogue joined her in the doorway. Everyone's attention was focused on the three people at the centre of the commotion: Storm and Nightcrawler, in full X-Men uniform, and another man. He had scruffy dark hair tied up above his head with a band and was wearing a long brown coat over a waistcoat and trousers. There was a French hint to his accent and, given the noises he was making, he didn't seem happy to be there.

Ignoring both the man's protests and the curious questions from the students, Storm and Nightcrawler marched the newcomer down the corridor and into Professor Xavier's old office.

The office Gambit had been shown into looked important but there was no-one behind the desk. His two escorts directed him to sit down on their side of it and so there he sat, staring at the empty chair on the other side.

"So who are you then?"

Gambit turned round at the voice and saw another man leaning casually against the wall, smoking on a cigar. This one had a Western appearance and his only unusual feature seemed to be the curious way he'd styled his hair, twisted into two spikes sticking out of the side of his head. His dress was as casual as his manner, a brown jacket with a light shirt and loose trousers. He walked round the desk and sat down in the seat opposite.

"Gambit,"Gambit answered simply.

The man turned a computer screen round to face him and Gambit was surprised to see it displayed an image of himself, next to a worryingly accurate biography.

"AKA Remy LeBeau,"the man finished for him. "The government have been keeping a watch on you for a while. Wanted to know if you were political."

Gambit tensed up at the revelation. "You're government?"

It was the blue-skinned man who answered. "We are mutants."

Gambit looked hard at him. "Yes. I had realised that."

"I'm Logan,"the man behind the desk explained. Suddenly, from his knuckles, extended a set of claws. One of them shot out with such procession that it cut through Gambit's hair band without touching him, leaving his hair hanging loose. "Or Wolverine, if you prefer." He gestured to the two people that had brought Gambit in. "That's Ororo Monroe, also known as Storm, and Kurt Wagner, alias Nightcrawler."

"The Incredible Nightcrawler,"the blue-skinned man corrected.

Logan continued as if he hadn't spoken. "And as to whether or not we're government, no. We just happen to have friends in high places. It's kinda nice."

Gambit was still not certain of his position. "Why did you rescue me from those police officers?"

"You were outnumbered,"Storm replied. "I don't like seeing anyone hounded like that. Even if they deserve it."

"Why did you rob that man?"Nightcrawler asked.

"It's my job,"Gambit explained,"I'm a thief."

Storm looked at him derisively. "You make being a criminal sound like something to be proud of."

"I am proud of it,"Gambit replied without hesitation,"I operate by a strict code - my own. That man I robbed - Silling? Until a few months ago, he was one of the major employers in that city. Then he realised it was more economical to dismiss all his workers and transfer his operations to Venezuela. Cheaper overheads, cheaper wages, same prices, bigger profit. While his old workers are left jobless and barely managing not to starve. Any money I make from him will go straight to them."

"So you're saying you're Robin Hood?"Logan asked, not sounding convinced.

"A good comparison,"Gambit agreed.

"Glad you like it." Logan's comments were still laced with sarcasm.

Gambit still felt the trio were being evasive with him. "So why have you brought me here? I presume you were keeping an eye on me before my encounter with the police."

Logan shrugged. "Maybe we want to see if you're political too."

Storm seemed more willing to provide a full explanation. "This school was founded by a man who wanted to see mutants and humans forming one society. He wanted to teach mutants to use their powers to help everyone, not just themselves. He's gone now but we're trying to carry on his work. And if what you've just told us is true, you're already doing that. Helping people."

Gambit saw that she was sincere. Sincere… and possibly dangerous. Idealists often were. "I appreciate the speech but I operate alone."

"You used your powers to escape." Logan made it sound like an accusation.

"What did you expect me to do?"Gambit asked without apology. "Walk meekly into a jail cell?"

"Things are better out there for mutants now,"Storm told him, almost pleadingly. "They're beginning to accept us more."

Nightcrawler nodded in agreement. "When I walk down the street, only a few people point and stare."

Logan stared at Gambit hard. "A mutant criminal - even one who robs from the rich to give to the poor - could stir things up again. Last thing we need is someone else giving people a reason to hate mutants."

The early days of the clinic had been fraught, to say the least. Mutants lining up for the cure, eager for a chance to escape prejudice or the disadvantages of their mutations. Protestors insisting that curing mutants was a violation of their civil rights. Protestors insisting that all mutants were a blight on society and should be forced to have the cure. But all of that had died down now. Most of the mutants who wanted the cure had taken it and most of the protestors had accepted the way things were and found something else to protest about.

But there was still the occasional visitor and for that reason, Worthington Labs had kept Doctor Adler on as the sole staff member. He didn't mind. He was nearly sixty, a few years away from retirement. A quiet job like this was just what he wanted.

He was halfway through the latest of the inventories that he used to occupy most of his time when he heard the front door open and close behind him. "Hold on a moment,"he called over his shoulder,"I'll be with you shortly…"

Then an arm wrapped itself around his throat. He only had a second to register it appeared to be made of blue metal before it broke his neck.

If anyone had entered the clinic at that moment, they would have been greeted by an astonishing sight. The dead body of Doctor Adler lying on the ground and standing over him… Doctor Adler, a perfect physical duplicate of the man he had just murdered. He turned away from the body, went to the front of the clinic and turned the sign to "Closed". Then he looked at the treatment chair that had been set up for the patients. It was time to turn it to a new purpose.

A/N: Since I wrote this before X-Men Origins: Wolverine was released, it isn't in continuity with that. I haven't seen X-Men: First Class yet so I don't know if there's any continuity clashes with that.