"Back up there," Rogue said, holding up a hand in a 'halt' gesture. "Our options are survival trainin' with an unknown at some camp, with a bunch of our year-mates, or with Logan?"
Chuck nodded in his wheelchair.
"Is it an altogether thing or individual choice?" she asked, leaning forward intently.
The psychic chuckled as he laced his fingers together. "It's your choice which option you take," he said. "You must choose one, however. There isn't a 'neither' option."
Rogue nodded and sat back in her chair. "Ah think Ah'll stick with a known quantity then," she said. "Ah may have it harder than the folks at the camp, but Ah'll know more-or-less where the limits are."
Chuck smiled. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Everyone else, when I talked to them about this, chose Ironback Survival Camp with Sergeant Hawk."
Rogue snorted in amusement. "Just another reason not to go," she declared softly, a wry twist to her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. She rolled her head back onto her shoulders and closed her eyes, calling up Irene's gift. She wasn't gonna get to see the suffering of the rest of the team in person, so she wanted a glimpse of what it would be like for them at this camp they'd all chosen over training with the Wolverine.
Her eyes snapped open suddenly. "We're gonna have company."
"Oh?" Charles asked, curious, but not thinking it anything serious.
Rogue stretched out her hand suddenly and took hold of the professor's pale, bald dome. When they'd met, and she'd touched him then, she'd only gotten surface thoughts. She hadn't held on long enough to get memories or powers or anything. Now she was, and with Irene's power still turned on as well.
"Suddenly Ah find mahself disillusioned," Rogue said as she took back her hand and stood from her seat. "Ya should try talkin' to yer family Professor, not just shuttin' 'em out or shuttin' 'em away."
"Ugn... R-Rogue?" the man groaned and gasped, trying to get his bearings and his breath once more.
"Ah'm not leavin'," she said, her back to him as she stood facing her bedroom window. "Ah could. Ah still own mah house down in Mississippi, but Ah've made some friends here." Rogue turned her head to the side, but didn't try and look past her hair at the man she'd just absorbed. "So even though Ah'm not a hundred percent sure Ah'd count you among them any more, Ah'm not goin' anywhere either."
"Thank you, Rogue."
She nodded and turned away from him completely once more, and didn't move until she heard him turn his wheelchair around and leave her room. Then she started packing for the survival trip, however brief it would turn out to be.
"Yer packin' too much Stripes," Logan informed her from the door, about ten minutes later. "This is survival training, not a camping trip. Now dump out the bag and tell me what's eatin' ya."
Rogue's smile was weak when she turned to face Logan. Since the run-in with Creed (and her using Kitty's powers to take ...potentially problematic foreign bodies out of Logan's brain), Logan had been the person she talked to most about her problems. When he was around. He left regularly to double check that various projects that he'd once been a party to were shut down in a very permanent way, some which he remembered himself, some which Rogue had told him about from Creed's memories.
She went to Kurt to talk things out sometimes, but he was more of a 'little brother' than a 'shoulder to lean on'... And when it came to more feminine-type problems she went to Storm before Jean or Kitty, which sometimes meant they had to wait a while, as Storm was out of the country fairly regularly... But Logan had pretty much become her best friend.
"Why do you think somethin's eatin' me?" she asked, not because she was denying that she was bothered by something, but because she wanted to know what gave it away.
"You threw a framed photograph in yer pack for a survival trip," Logan pointed out, even pointing to the frame where it was poking out of the bag Rogue hadn't dumped out yet. "That speaks of packin' t' leave, permanently, rather than just packin' for a walk in the woods with little ol' me."
Rogue picked out the picture and set it back on top of her chest of drawers.
"Ah guess..." she started, then words failed her for a moment. Rogue walked backwards from her drawers to her bed, and just flopped down when she made contact with it, never mind the bag that was also sitting on the bed. She hadn't landed on it, so she wasn't uncomfortable.
"Why are we playin' soldiers anyway?" she asked. "We're not less human suddenly, just cause we can do some different stuff. People have talked about how they wish they could have this power or that power for ages, now it's happening, and what? We pretend it isn't while waiting for it to all blow up in our faces?"
"Some heavy thought," Logan allowed, his tone indicating that he wouldn't even try and answer those questions because, frankly, he didn't have those kinds of answers. "What brought this on?" he asked.
"We're mutants, right?" Rogue asked, tilting her head back to look at Logan. The view was upside-down, but that didn't matter. "But that doesn't make us less prone to the same mistakes, the same screw-ups, the same short-sighted stupidity, as every other normal human out there."
"But because we don't call ourselves human, we forget the whole 'to err is human' thing applies to us as well?" Logan hazarded, trying to guess where Rogue was going with that.
"Basically," she agreed with a shrug, then looked back up to her ceiling with a sigh. "An' Ah just learned a whole lot o' errs the prof has made over the years. Ah think this whole mess comes down to thinkin' that humans and mutants aren't the same."
"They're not," Logan pointed out with an easy shrug.
"Hm," she snorted quietly, amused, a small up-tilt to one corner of her mouth. "Well, maybe. But the 'us' and 'them' mentality ain't helpful."
"Now that I agree with," Logan said, jabbing a finger at her. "All the same Stripes, empty the bag. We leave for your survival trainin' in an hour. Put on your uniform, grab a coat, grab a knife, we'll get a bottle of water each on the way through the kitchen."
Rogue smiled, properly this time, and gave a jaunty salute. "I'll see you down there," she promised.
Logan nodded and vacated Rogue's door for the hallway.
The rest of the team left to catch the bus to Ironback Survival Camp the next morning, some twelve hours after Rogue had already started her survival training with Logan. It was only another two hours after that when Chuck contacted them on Logan's communicator, recalling both of them to the mansion for an emergency. His brother had broken out of the facility that was holding him and was on his way to the Institute. Estimated time of arrival was three hours.
"Dammit!" Logan growled. "We're twelve miles out on foot. We're not gonna make it back in three hours and be in any condition to put up a defence."
"No," Rogue agreed. "We're gonna make it back in five minutes tops an' be fresh as daisies," she said, taking a firm grip of Logan's shoulder and using Kurt's power to teleport them back to the mansion. She had to do it in a few pops, the limit to the teleporting was two miles.
"I forgot you could do that," Logan admitted wryly when they finally stopped in front of the front door of the mansion.
As they walked in, Storm was taking the X-Jet out, providing cover so no one could find – and therefore put themselves in danger by trying to stop – the Juggernaut. Logan went to talk to the professor while Rogue grabbed a quick shower and put on a clean uniform. She rolled up the sleeves.
The alarms started blaring just as she was walking down the main front stairs and thinking about finding a welcome mat.
"Well hi sugar," she greeted with a smile, walking out to greet the large man. Bold as brass, she walked straight up to him and wrapped her own bared arms around one of his equally uncovered limbs. "You here to see your brother? Ah'd a laid out the welcome mat, but Ah couldn't find it," she continued as she felt the man's energy, power, memories all being absorbed by her skin. She felt his anger, and pushed it back, refusing to take his personality with the rest.
"What are you doing!?" a voice, low but female, yelled angrily from behind where the Juggernaut was slowly falling to his knees as he felt the drain.
"Ah'm rather fond of the Institute, not as fond of all the people who live here Ah'll admit, but Ah'd hate to see the place get smashed up all the same," Rogue said, and she said it in a quiet, confiding tone to the man she was still draining.
"You alright there, Stripes?" Logan asked from the door.
"Just fine," she answered.
"Then I guess I'm gonna deal with Mystique."
Rogue didn't watch the fight, just focused on the big guy she was holding on to. "Timber," she announced quietly when he keeled over. She immediately pulled on his power within herself and turned him over so he was on his back. She gently closed his eyes for him and then rolled her sleeves down her arms so that she was safely covered once more.
"You alright there, Stripes?" Logan asked again, more quietly, his fight with Mystique over.
"Ah'm fine," she answered softly. "Ah might hole away in mah room for a while though, if that's alright."
Logan sighed. "Yeah, sure kid. Just be sure to open the door when I knock."
"Sure Logan," Rogue agreed with a small, but grateful, smile. Then she was up on her feet and running back inside.
~oOo~
A funeral was held for Cain Marco, aka the Juggernaut, but Charles was the only family present. Rogue also took a front-row seat at the funeral though, despite no family connection. She'd been the one to kill him, and while the other teens hadn't been told, all the grown-ups in the mansion knew. The coroner's report listed heart failure as cause of death, so there was no further inquiry from the police. Best guess, as far as the cops were concerned, was that so much sudden activity after being kept totally immobile in 'cellular paralysis bio-fluid' for so long had been too much for the guy's system.
Kurt noticed that Rogue wasn't exactly herself though, and as she'd claimed him as a little brother already, he was more that willing to be that brother she needed – and he was of the opinion that she needed some family right now.
"Rogue?" he called as he knocked on the door to her bedroom the day after the funeral. "Can I come in?"
Silence answered him, but he waited, and a few seconds later Rogue was there, holding her door open for him.
"Want to talk about it?" Kurt asked when she closed the door. "I know you usually go to Storm or Wolverine for the heavy conversations," he said quickly. "But I want you to know that I'm here for you too, if you need me."
Rogue smiled, just a little bit, and hugged him – she was covered, it was safe – and she pressed her face against his shirt. "Thanks Kurt," she said. "Ah guess Ah'm jus' bein' stupid, but... Ah miss mah home."
Kurt wrapped his arms around Rogue's shoulders. "You mean, down in Mississippi?" he asked.
"Yeah," she answered. "Ah can't think why though. Ah mean, sure Ah had the house all to mahself, an' Ah could take mah dingy down to the river whenever Ah felt like goin' fishin', but Ah've got family here. Ah've got you, an' Logan, an' Storm, an' Ah wouldn't trade ya f'r the world... but Ah guess... Ah miss drivin' down to New Orleans for the Mardi Gras parade, an' gumbo, an' havin' the kitchen to mahself, an' the sound of the river out mah window... the ocean against the cliffs is diff'rent."
Kurt patted her back and smiled in understanding. "You're homesick, but you've got two homes now," he suggested. "The home where you family is right now, and the home that's just yours, where you grew up."
"Yeah," Rogue agreed. "Ah guess that's about it. Like Ah said, Ah'm jus' bein' stupid."
"No you're not," Kurt countered. "I miss Germany as well, and that's even further away than Mississippi. I miss my parents, and mama's strudel, and the smell of fresh snow... but like you, this is home now for me too."
For a while, they just sat on Rogue's bed, holding on to each other, silently reinforcing that they would be there for each other, whatever happened.
"I do have one question," Kurt said after a while, breaking the silence. "What is 'gumbo'?"
Rogue couldn't help it, she laughed. "Well, let's go down to the kitchen an' see if Ah can't make up a batch, though o' course we might have to do some shoppin'. Ah doubt the professor stocks all the ingredients for gumbo."
It only took ten minutes for Rogue to confirm that they were going to have to do some shopping. It was a further five hours (shopping time included) before the smell of the gumbo began to filter past the kitchen door and tickle at the noses of the rest of the people in the Institute.
"I see you're feelin' better," Logan commented as he walked into the kitchen to find Rogue at the stove and Kurt perched on a barstool at her side.
"Do you have any idea how hard it was to find catfish around here? Ah mean good quality catfish?" Rogue demanded idly, then turned around, a smile on her face. "Yeah, Ah'm feelin' better," she agreed.
"She's been teasing me with delicious smells for hours!" Kurt cried, "and says that it needs to simmer for another two before it will be ready to serve!"
"Two hours?" Kitty's voice joined in, a whining lilt to it. "But, like, it smells so good now!"
Rogue shook her head. "Two hours, a final dash of Tabasco and a stir, and then serve," she said firmly. "Ah do sympathise though."
From behind Logan came a quiet hubbub of whining and grumbling, and the man turned around to see Scott, Jean and Evan all making similar complaints against waiting the extra two hours.
"Ah'm sorry," Rogue said, falsely sweet as she raised a hand to her ear. "What's that you said? Y'all don't mind lettin' it simmer four hours to get the flavours really rich? An' y'all are willin' ta take me on in the danger-room while the pot does it's thing?"
There were hasty denials and quick backward steps.
Rogue smirked. "That's what Ah thought."
Logan chuckled. "You'll make a great parent one day Stripes," he commented, "and that danger-room suggestion of yours isn't a bad one. After all, everyone's survival training got cut short with the emergency re-call to the mansion."
"Which turned out to not be needed," Kurt quipped.
"Don't complain man!" Evan rushed out. "There was no way I was gonna survive all those bugs for a week! The mosquitoes were as big as pelicans!"
~oOo~
Friday, school was out, the weekend beckoned, and it was great weather in general. Scott got the news that his little brother – who he'd thought was dead – had just been picked up by Cerebro. In Hawaii. While the rest of them were left behind – Logan and Chuck taking Scott in the X-Jet and Storm elsewhere for the moment – Kurt suggested they try a more local beach, since they were being left out of the Hawaii trip. Jean was missing, so Rogue left her a note.
"Oh man," she sighed in relief. "You feel that ocean breeze? Ah've been goin' into meltdown all covered up like this. Ah hate it."
"Yeah?" Kurt countered. "You should try being blue and furry. It's murder," he said, taking a moment to turn off his image inducer.
"Kurt! The road!" Rogue yelped in warning.
The road had just pulled upwards in a very untidy fashion, just a little ways in front of them. A short and not at all fun ride later, and they'd been driven off the road only to be stopped by Blob at the bottom of a dirt road, and then buried in the sand.
Kitty started hauling Evan up through the sand, while Kurt and Rogue both 'ported top-side.
With a wicked smirk, Rogue dove straight for Lance. He was the only mutant present she hadn't absorbed yet, so she was going to take the opportunity to add him to her collection – and figure out what the hell was going on here from his memories.
"Aw shit!" she hissed as she dropped him, now unconscious. "Lose!" she yelled. "It's a competition where the winner gets kidnapped! Lose!" she yelled, running towards the other fights.
"Vas!?" Kurt exclaimed, and was distracted enough for Toad to push him face-first into the sand.
"Ooh, like, don't need telling," Kitty said as she phased through the Blob. "I, like, totally need a shower now," she added before she fainted on the sand.
"Daniels doesn't need telling," Pietro snickered, standing on top of the sand pile where Evan was buried up to his neck.
Rogue took off her gloves and jammed them into one of her pockets when she saw the large metal orbs fly over the rocky outcropping above them. "Kurt, get everybody home," she ordered. "Ah'll be fine."
"I-if you say so," he answered, unsure what was going to happen, but willing to trust her.
"Ah do," she answered, and climbed – willingly – into the damned orb. "See y'all soon!" she promised, waving as it closed over her head.
The trip, for her, was mercifully short. She didn't like to think what Storm would have been going through if she got abducted by one of these things, what with the claustrophobia and all, and she climbed out easily when the orb opened over her head again.
"I admit to being pleasantly surprised at how willing you are," commented a man in a cape and helmet.
"Ah got the low-down from Lance before he dropped," she said, poking the man in the nose with the tip of her finger, then spreading her hand out over his face – beneath the helmet – when she felt him still at the jolt of her touch. She held on, tight, as he fell to his knees before her. She held on when he started twitching under her grasp. She held on when he breathed his last breath, and then she sneered at him.
"Hey, wha' chu do, yo?" Todd asked, his eyes wide with fear.
"Ah killed him," she answered dispassionately, then looked over at Pietro. "Gonna cry f'r daddy?" she asked, "or go visit yer sister an' tell her the bastard's dead?"
Pietro paled so his skin was almost the same colour as his hair.
Rogue put a hand to her own head. Another whole life's worth of memories, experiences, pain, mistakes and regrets. She was gonna have such a headache if she didn't get time to meditate properly soon. She'd had a little time to deal with the bits of Lance now in her head on the flight over, but a whole life took time to process. As she'd already learned with Irene and Mystique, but Magneto had a couple of decades up on those two.
"So now what, yo?" Todd asked, confused. "We won, but we're not gonna get the prize."
"The prize," Rogue said derisively, "was to be exposed to radiation that would have totally de-humanised you."
"What?!" several voices yelled at once, and not just the boys she'd arrived with.
"Alex Masters, right?" Rogue asked, walking up to the blonde who'd just arrived with Scott.
The younger boy stepped back nervously.
"It's alright," Scott reassured his brother. "Her touch really only tingles."
"Yeah," Todd agreed, carefully avoiding looking at the cooling body of Magneto. "You tell her it's startin' ta hurt and she pulls back sharp."
"It's kinda the ultimate in empathy," Rogue explained, holding up her hand nearer her own face than Alex's. "Ah absorb yer memories, yer powers, you don't lose 'em, but Ah get everything from yer point of view."
Alex nodded, and took a step closer.
Rogue touched him lightly, and pulled away after just a few seconds.
"Not too bad, was it sugar?" she said kindly.
"No," Alex agreed. "Actually, I feel great," he said with a laugh. "For once, my joints don't all feel like they're on fire."
Rogue's small smile disappeared. "It'll come back," she said. "Ah copy yer powers, Ah don't take 'em away from you. Not f'r long anyway."
Alex nodded in understanding.
"Now, let's get the people Magneto abducted, hop in the X-Jet, and head on home," Rogue suggested with a smile, leading the way to where Jean, Storm and the Professor were all shut away in pressurised tanks. "Wakey wakey," she called as she released them all – properly, as opposed to just blasting them out like Scott had almost done.
"Rogue!" the three called out, gratitude and wonder in their voices, and just a hint of pride as well in Storm's case as she wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders.
"Yeah, yeah, enough with the mushy stuff," she objected, though the smile on her face belied her words. "Everyone else should be waitin' back home."