A/N: Hello! Here's chapter 3, finally. This took me waaaay too long to revise. School's been crazy lately, but, hey! It's here now :) Again, lots of thanks to Liz (my editor - for you non informed people out there). I tried to add more exposition to it like she suggested... I hope I got it right.
Oh, and Wen1? I know I told you that you would get Scott in this chapter, and originally, you did! I swear! But then the chapter was really long, so Liz convinced me to chop it into two chapters. Unfortunately, Scott is now in Chapter 4... but on the bright side, you'll get Chapter 4 in a few days! Please don't hurt me! -gives cookies-
And remember people, I love reviews! Even if they're bad reviews. -nods-
Rogue didn't remember falling from the roof. She didn't remember the pain that must have coursed through her body on impact. She didn't remember Ororo's screams or Logan picking her up. Nor did she remember Xavier telling them to take her to the hospital.
She was glad.
Of course, it did make waking up in a hospital room with an elderly double-gloved nurse checking her vitals that much more startling. Despite the two layers of gloves protecting the woman, Nurse Middleton was watching her unconscious patient with wide, fearful eyes. When Rogue's eyes opened, slowly adjusting to the harsh hospital lighting, Middleton nearly jumped out of her skin. Offering the older woman a smile didn't help either. Apparently, being noticed at all by the mutant was worse than selling your soul to the devil in this woman's eyes. Rogue watched the stout nurse run into the hall with a morbid fascination that could only be brought on by painkillers.
"Doctor!" Middleton cried seemingly to any doctor nearby. She swallowed the panic that was clearly seeping into her voice in a vain attempt to compose herself. One of the doctors in hall jogged over to the room and ushered the nurse back inside. "The patient's awake," she murmured as the doctor began looking over Rogue's charts.
"Rogue Xavier, is it?" he asked, his friendly demeanor remaining despite the word MUTANT printed in large bold letters that were impossible to miss on the top of every page on the clipboard. She nodded, taking in the amiable face. He was a middle-aged man with curly black hair and stark blue eyes. Broad shoulders and a thick midsection were concealed beneath his green scrubs and lab coat. "And what were you doing on a roof, Ms. Xavier?" he asked companionably as donned a double set of gloves and began taking her vitals. Rogue managed to offer him a meek smile through the fog in her head. "Doctor Coleman?" the all but forgotten nurse questioned. "Mrs. Wilkerson…"
"Of course," Coleman said, nodding the nurse away. "But you may want to inform this young lady's family that she's awake." Middleton nodded and reluctantly walked down to the waiting room.
"Mr. and Mrs. Xavier?" she called into the room. She forced herself to take a calming breath when she saw the couple that rose from their chairs. They just screamed mutant. Well, what could be expected from a mutant patient than more mutants? Ororo Munroe looked first at the terrified nurse and then at Logan who was currently glaring at the traumatized woman. She swatted his arm and shot him a stern look.
"Is Rogue alright?" Ororo asked Nurse Middleton in a calm, unassuming tone. With a sniff, Middleton turned on her heel and led them down the hall to Rogue's room.
"The doctor will see you now," she said stiffly over her shoulder. The duo behind her exchanged a glance but followed regardless. She stopped abruptly before the patient's room and walked away just as suddenly. Ignoring the obvious rudeness, Storm tapped lightly on the open door.
"Ah, please, come in," Doctor Coleman said heartily. He shook hands with Ororo and began introducing himself as Logan went immediately to Rogue's bedside.
"What's wrong with her?" Logan asked, interrupting the small talk. His voice was low but carried through the room better than a scream would have. Rogue gently weaved her hand up his covered arm.
"I'm okay, Logan," she said softly, her voice calming him slightly. There was no need for him to go berserk on the one person who'd been nice to her here. He glanced down at her face and forced himself to relax, despite the gash on her forehead.
"Well, it seems that Ms. Rogue here has managed to break her leg and a few ribs. She's got a mild concussion along with a few bumps and scrapes. We've got her on some painkillers right now, but we can send her home any time," he said. "Just try to stay off the roof from now on, huh?" he joked at Rogue. She nodded shyly and grinned.
"Oh, she's not getting anywhere near that damn roof again," Logan growled, his hands balling into fists.
"Logan," Storm warned. "Not now." Dr. Coleman smiled tightly and motioned to the door.
"Unfortunately, I've got other patients to attend to. Make sure she gets lots of rest, drinks lots of fluids, all that good stuff. The attendant at the front desk can hook you guys up with anything you need. Oh, and do give Professor Xavier my regards." Ororo nodded politely and saw him to the door. Logan squatted beside the bed and looked at Rogue seriously.
"You sure you're okay, kid?"
"I'm fine." She paused, smoothing the hospital blanket. "Thanks for coming. It means a lot. I know these places drive you nuts."
"No problem. I said I'd take care of you, didn't I?" he said, giving her a strained grin.
"Yeah." She looked up, as though as were going to say something else, but ducked her head again when Ororo returned to the bed.
"How are you feeling, Rogue?" she asked, concern masking her usually serene features.
"I'm okay, Ms. Munroe." Rogue looked from Logan to Ororo dubiously. "Mr. and Mrs. Xavier?" Storm laughed and even Logan cracked a grin. It did seem a bit ridiculous.
"C'mon. Let's get outta here," Logan said, reminding the group of his aversion to all things medical.
"I'll go fill out the release forms," Ororo said in response. The last thing they needed was for Logan to start a fight at the front desk. "You get Rogue out to the car." He nodded absently as she left the room. Rogue eased her legs over the side of the bed, examining her cast with interest.
"I always wanted one of these when I was a kid," she said, running her bare fingers over the rough surface. "Sign it for me?"
"You should just let me heal you," he said even as he reached for a marker sitting in tray of the mini white board beside the bed.
"It's not life or death; just a broken leg," Rogue answered, rolling her eyes for emphasis as he scrawled his name on her plaster-encased leg.
"But you don't need to have it. I could fix you right up. It'd only take a few seconds," he argued. He capped the marker and dismissively tossed it on the bedside table.
"I don't want to hurt you." She looked at his signature skeptically. "That's it? Just your name?" He raised an eyebrow.
"You were expecting hearts and flowers?" She sighed and flopped back onto the bed. He grabbed the marker back and underlined his name with a smug grin. "Better?"
"Worlds better," she answered sarcastically without raising her head. Logan broke.
"Let me heal you, Marie."
"No!" she exclaimed, sitting up with a start. "There's no reason to-"
"No reason to! Your leg's broken! You've got head trauma!"
"It's a mild concussion! I'll get some sleep, take some aspirin, and be fine!"
"Or I could heal you, and you'll be fine now!"
"You're being ridiculous!" she shouted at him. Their voices had been steadily rising and were beginning to attract the attentions of the people in the hall. One nurse was staring warily through the window, her eyes fixed on Logan's angry face. It was clear that she was having doubts as to how Rogue really got hurt. Rogue glanced from Logan to the nurse and back again, sighing to relieve her frustration. "We aren't going to do this here," she said calmly. "Ms. Munroe will be waiting in the car. Let's go." Logan followed her gaze to the nurse, who locked eyes with him defiantly. He broke contact and swore under his breath as he reached for the wheelchair that had been pushed into a corner of the room.
"Alright," he said, his voice lowered considerably. "But we will finish this," he added, scooping her up from the bed and gently depositing her into the chair. "Good?"
"Good," she answered, relaxing while he pushed her out of the room. Rogue smiled sweetly at the suspicious nurse, who turned from the couple, determined to look over the girl's file. The Xavier's were a powerful and respected family, even in modern days, but maybe the next generation wasn't so honorable.
Ororo was leaning against the side of the car when they arrived. She glanced at them curiously but didn't say anything about how long it took them. Instead, she waited for Logan to put Rogue in the back seat and then, ran the wheelchair back inside to get away from the tension that was growing between the two. When she got back, Rogue was sitting in the back seat where she'd left her, but Logan was passed out awkwardly in the front.
"What happened!" she asked, though she had a feeling she already knew. Rogue was staring vacantly through the front window, a blank expression clouding her face. Her now-gloved fingers danced over Logan's hand, which was lying limply in her lap. "Rogue, tell me what happened," Storm repeated urgently when the girl showed no sign of hearing her. She raised her hands to her student's face, stopping mere centimeters from her skin. Feeling useless, Ororo dropped her hands and, instead, picked up Logan's, which was stretched uncomfortably through the gap between the front seats. She moved the unconscious man's arm into his own seat and reached around the chair back to check his pulse. It was thready but strong enough to assure her that there was no lasting damage. She turned back to Rogue.
"It's okay, Rogue. He's going to be fine," she reassured her, though Rogue seemed not to hear her. Ororo sighed, carefully shut the car door, and walked around to the driver's side.
Oddly enough, Logan had still not woken up by the time that they returned to the mansion almost 20 minutes later. He hadn't been out this long when he'd stabbed Rogue through the chest! Something was definitely off. Having sensed her mental distress, Peter and Charles were waiting for them when she pulled up.
"Rogue absorbed Logan!" she told them as she got out of the car. "He still hasn't woken up." Xavier watched as Peter began pulling Logan's unconscious body from the front seat.
"How long ago?" he asked calmly. Peter saw Rogue's shell-shocked face staring through him from her seat.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked with concern. Rogue was usually shaken up after using her power, but it was never this bad. It really made him wonder just how many extra minds her young mind could hold without breaking. And how much of his mind Logan could give before he lost his sense of self.
"I don't know. I found her like that after I took her wheelchair back. She hasn't moved, won't speak to me-" Ororo's voice trailed off as Xavier opened Rogue's door. He positioned himself beside her and gently probed her mind. Dismayed, he found a strong mental barrier blocking him. The girl was given some natural mental defense from her mutation but nothing like this.
"Rogue," he said gently, "I need you to let me in." He strengthened his presence in her mind, just on the outside of the wall. Obligingly, a small hole appeared before him, so he could slip through her defenses. Unbeknownst to Peter and Ororo, Charles hurried past the wall and burrowed himself deep in Rogue's subconscious.
Rogue's mind was full of other mentalities. On Xavier's limited path alone, he felt Logan, Sabertooth, Erik, and a rampant teenage boy all roaming in plain "sight". Charles called out for Rogue's personality, extending tendrils of his own consciousness to look for her as he did so. He'd searched every crevice of her mind and had found Bobby, John, Logan (again), a trucker or two, Scott, and a small dose of Jean. But not Rogue. He was about to give up when suddenly, Rogue was right on the surface of her mind.
"Oh, hi, Professor," Rogue said cheerily. Her lilting voice echoed as he heard her in her mind as well as in his physical ears. Rogue looked around with confusion. "Uh, what's going on?" she asked, noticing the concerned faces surrounding her. Sure, she had fallen off the roof, but she wasn't seriously injured.
"How are you feeling?" Peter asked tentatively. The professor looked like he was still concentrating on her mind, which made him wonder if Rogue were really all right. She certainly hadn't looked all right a few short seconds ago. She smiled at him warmly.
"Oh, I'm fine. The doctor at the hospital was really nice. He says I should be back on my feet in a few weeks." She frowned. "Then…Wait… What happened?" she asked, looking to Ororo for answers. "I didn't black out or something, did I?" Ororo looked at her with concern.
"Logan healed you, and I guess you went into shock. Don't you remember?" she asked tenderly.
"No…" the girl trailed off. Her horrified eyes landed on Logan's abandoned body in the front seat. "No!" Her head whipped from Logan to Ororo to Peter to the professor. "What did you do!" she snarled viciously, sounding nearly possessed in her fury. "What did you do to him!" she screamed again. Ororo took a slow step toward Rogue.
"Child, you absorbed him. He'll be okay. Just calm down, Rogue," she said soothingly, her voice low and comforting. She continued trying to calm the frighteningly distraught woman. Peter stood stoically in the spot that Ororo had deserted. His eyes were locked on the professor's face, which was still blankly focused, a sure sign that he was still using his telepathy. The two women continued around Charles as though he weren't there, but Peter's attention never wavered.
"And you!" Rogue screamed harshly, turning from Ororo to Xavier. "Get out of my head, old man!" she hissed through clenched teeth. Charles recoiled sharply from an unseen attack that was quickly followed by Rogue's arms flying into his torso, shoving him so sharply that his chair toppled to the ground beside the car. "Just leave us alone!" Rogue bellowed. "Leave us alone," she sobbed, her anger finally burned out. Ororo crouched by Xavier immediately, trying to right the unconscious man. Peter ran forward and half-carried half-dragged Charles and his wheel chair away from the car. Ororo gave Peter a worried look and glanced back toward the car, where Rogue had slammed the doors shut and was hiding in the front seat beside Logan's still unconscious body.
"Leave them," Peter said roughly, more concerned with the fragile body in his arms than anything Rogue might pull in the car. Ororo continued to watch the car for a moment, then nodded and turned towards the main camp.
"Ms. Munroe?" Kitty asked as she jogged up to the trio. "I heard screaming. What's going on?" Storm just shook her head and walked ahead of Peter.
"Peter, put the professor in his office to rest. Kitty, I need you to find the number for someone named Moira McTaggert." Kitty nodded slowly, glanced at Peter, and turned on her heel to the nearest laptop.
There they were again. Logan was standing in the Blackbird, watching Jean Grey kill herself, save them. The water of Alkali Lake rushed around her small frame. Her face was contorted in pain and determination as she looked back to meet Scott's eyes. Then, she was gone. That's what happened. Logan's new nightmare.
But this time, it was different. This time, instead of being washed away as the rush of water overpowered her, she was stronger than the surge and returned safely to the jet. She smiled happily as she boarded, and then everything froze.
Scott had frozen in place halfway into going to hug Jean. His arms were outstretched, and his face was lit merrily. It was the happiest Logan had ever seen him. Storm had turned from the front of the jet with a warm smile. The children were sharing happy looks of relief. Charles seemed surprised, but happy. Nightcrawler was happy, but also detached. Logan looked at Jean. She was moving.
She looked at him. Then she smiled and began walking towards Logan. Her smile was sweet and triumphant, but also sad. It took forever to make it over to him. It seemed like an eternity since he last saw her. Yet, it also seemed like just yesterday. When she finally reached him, she wrapped her arms around him and just hugged him. This shocked Logan more than anything. Now he knew he was dreaming. He pulled away slightly; he knew he would be depressed in the morning if he got too close. Jean looked up with surprise.
"What's wrong?" she asked with confusion. Her voice sounded exactly like he remembered, and he wanted nothing more than to take her back into his arms and tell himself that the last month had been nothing but a dream. He knew he couldn't though. But that needy look in her eyes really wasn't helping.
"This. Everything," he finally answered, waving an arm toward the still scene around them. "You're dead," he said with firm resolution. It sounded as though he was trying to convince himself. Jean merely shook her head.
"You're wrong, on both counts," she said.
"How?" he asked. I am definitely insane, he thought.
"I'm not dead," she said simply. Then her face became grave. "Logan, we have to hurry. I can't stay long. I'm not dead, I'm at Alkali Lake. You have to believe me. Something terrible is going to happen. I saw it. The machine doesn't –" everything flickered. "Your dream is strong. I can't hold it off much longer," a sad look overcame her lovely features. "It's terrible what they did to you. Anyway," she said, as though shaking the topic from her mind. "Tell the Professor. We have to act fast if we want to save ourselves," she continued. She began to blur slightly, as though he were looking at her through someone else's glasses. "How's Scott?" she asked. Logan could tell it was taking an enormous amount of energy to stay. Beads of sweat were all ready beginning to form on her face.
"He misses you," Logan said simply. The three words conveyed more meaning than either of them could truly say. She looked at him, a mix of sadness and bitterness streaming across her face.
"I'm at Alkali Lake, I'll be waiting. Oh, and Logan? It's "Mowtzart" like it has at 't.'" Then, before Logan could respond, she was gone, and his old nightmare overtook him.
Rogue sat in the front seat quietly in the same position she had been in for the past three hours. Her knees were pulled up to her chin with her arms wrapped around them protectively. She was afraid to sleep because she knew that Logan's nightmare would come. It was hard enough to block out his memories. The most intense image was a picture of something fiery. God only knew what it was, but she couldn't get it out of her head. Just fire. She watched it grow and flicker in her mind's eyes with an almost morbid fascination. No, it was more like awe. The fire was strong. She was so weak in comparison.
She hastily shook her head, and the image was gone. Logan's memories are private, and I have no right to look at them, she scolded herself. No matter how… odd they are.
Bobby had come by earlier. He had wanted her to come eat dinner, she had told him she wasn't hungry. Then he told her that her favorite movie was on. She told him that she would watch it on the TV in the back seat. She hadn't. He'd come by with ice cream for her and she had told him that if he came back to bug her again, she would punch him from here to Canada. In slightly harsher language.
All she wanted to do was get a firm sense of who she was. That was hard to do when she was still worried about Logan. She knew that she would be worried until he woke up. He had now healed her three times. Three times! The Logan in her head told her not to worry about it, that he was just keeping his promise. The Magneto in her head scoffed at her for needing protection. Bobby was quiet, but she knew he was disappointed that he couldn't save her. But Marie, what did Marie think?
Closing her eyes, Rogue tried to focus on herself. She tried to drown out the other voices. Marie was worried, she was angry that she had to depend on someone, but at the same time, she was happy that she could count on someone. That's what Marie thought. Giving a peaceful sigh, Rogue leaned back against the cool window. As she allowed her body to relax, her mind slipped into an anything but peaceful dream.
Rogue was being held under a strange fluid. Was it water? No, it seemed to have a greenish tint. She couldn't breathe! Who was holding her down? Why wouldn't they let her up? She was going to suffocate!
Then, a masked person came into view. His needle was getting closer and closer to her body, but it just loomed above her. After what seemed like forever, it dug into her skin. Searing pain enveloped her senses as the hot fluid ran through her body. She screamed. Out of nowhere, the pain stopped. Everything did.
She was on the Blackbird. What happened? She could see herself, huddled amongst the other students. Why wasn't she moving? Scott was just standing there, grinning like an idiot, with his arms outstretched. The oddest thing of all was that Jean was standing there, alive and well, talking to Logan. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, her ears were still ringing from her screams. She inched along the side of the jet, trying to hear what was said. How was she here?
"Anyway, tell the professor. We have to act fast if we want to save ourselves," Rogue heard Jean say. Glancing down to the floor, Marie noticed that everything seemed blurry, it was like she was looking up to the surface of a lake while sitting on the bottom.
"How's Scott?" Jean asked as the jet's image became sharper.
"He misses you," Logan replied. Those three words were simple, but Jean's eyes met Logan's as if she were looking for more. Suddenly, Jean stepped away.
"I'm at Alkali Lake, I'll be waiting. Oh, and Logan? It's 'Mozart' like it has a 't,'" Jean said with a grin. Then, the jet was gone, and Rogue was dropped back into Logan's nightmare.
Ororo leaned against the counter of the makeshift infirmary and watched Moira McTaggert examine charts and scribble hasty notes in the margins. She pulled out one of Charles's blood samples and added a few drops of some chemical, which made the blood turn an alarming shade of blue. Moira turned and put the cobalt blood in a high-tech (and expensive-looking) machine that began whirring and whining at the touch of a button.
Storm glanced around the pathetic tent that was shielding her broken leader from the general student body. Charles lay on his back in the middle of a tarp at her feet, looking as lifeless as can be. The only things that assured her of his well-being were the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the mechanical movement of his chest being controlled by the respirator, both of which were sprawled ungraciously on the tarp. It was a sad scene by normal standards and seemed even more sub par in comparison to the elaborate laboratory behind Moira in the view screen of the computer monitor in front of her.
"Could you move me closer to his face?" the tawny red head asked in a clipped Scottish accent.
"How's he doing?" Ororo asked as she held the video camera above Xavier's head. In lieu of coming to Westchester in person (Moira had too many patients at home for that), they'd set up a basic hi-def system, sort of like that of the average family computer camera. They had overnighted a package to Moira's lab, so she had some of Charles's blood to work with, but it was still difficult to treat a person from 8,000 miles away.
"Well, his vitals are finally stabilizing, through there's still no medical reason for them to have gone hay wire in the first place. How's the lass that put him here? Any word from her?" the doctor asked. Ororo glanced at the monitor that displayed Moira's end of the connection. Her deep red hair was pulled back and pinned at the base of her neck, and her sea green eyes glared at the machine before her as her glasses slid down her nose for the millionth time that day.
"Rogue. She finally came out of the car when Logan woke up, maybe a little after. She hasn't been speaking much, but it's understandable. She did mention something about nightmares," Ororo commented.
"Hmm... Other than the vague connection of psychological irregularities, it doesn't sound like they have any shared symptoms. But I'll have you send me some blood samples if she'll allow it," Moira said thoughtfully as she watched the whirring machine come to a shuddery stop. Ororo consented, and the room was invaded with a concerned silence. Both women had much on their minds and no way to release it.
"How's the training going with your new assistant?" Storm asked after a moment, deciding to take solace in companionable niceties.
"Sean is… a bit rebellious, but I think he'll turn out. He's a brilliant boy when he wants to be. Yesterday, he actually finished my DNA profiling for me," Moira chattered enthusiastically. "I'm afraid he's a bit enamored with your school though. Ever since I told him about it, it's all he talks about," she continued with a chuckle. "He keeps telling me I need to come visit and reconnect with old friends." Ororo smiled warmly.
"You know you're both welcome here anytime," she responded, forgetting for a moment that the entire school was living out of tents.
"Thank you, Ororo," Moira said. Then she sighed. "I guess the real reason I've planted myself half way across the globe is because… if I ever go back to Westchester, I'm afraid I won't leave." Storm's grin widened. She knew about the history between Moira and Charles.
"Well, we could use a doctor here," she teased the older Scot.
"Oh, look; the sample's settled!" Moira said with feigned enthusiasm, overtly changing the subject. She plucked the test tube holding the blood sample from the machine and held it up to the light, studying its contents intently. She examined it under her high-resolution microscope for a few minutes before telling Ororo with a sigh, "It's normal." Ororo groaned tiredly.
"This would be so much easier with a telepath."
"Unfortunately, the best telepath we have is the one that's out," Moira sympathized.
"I wish Scott were here," Storm muttered softly. "He's the one that's trained to handle this sort of thing! That's how it used to work anyway. He took care of the team, I took care of the kids." She sighed. "I can handle kids… this is hard." Moira chuckled.
"I'm sure Scott would say the same thing if he had to sort out the teenage drama that you put up with." Then she sobered. "How is Scott holding up?"
"He's in his tent. He's been in his tent since we got here. I try to get him to eat, but I don't think he holds it down… I tried to get him to help on construction, but he just never showed up for his shifts. As far as Scott is concerned, the rest of the world died with Jean." Ororo turned her back to the monitor to fiddle distractedly with one of the poles holding up the tent. "I don't want to push him too hard; he needs time to mourn, and his position here is very stressful…. But he can't just abandon us all. I think I'll give him another week to mope before I make him come back on partial duty." Moira nodded her assent, happy that at least one of the problems had a solution – well, in theory.
One week turned to two, and Charles woke up on his own, much to the frustration of Moira and Sean, who'd been positive that if they looked long enough, they'd find something physically wrong with his brain. Charles allowed the determined duo to talk him into an MRI at the local hospital to search for changes in his brain structure now that he was awake. They found nothing, and he insisted that he needed to go back to running the school instead of playing lab rat.
With Xavier back in control, Ororo wasn't as desperate for Scott to be back on active duty. She gave him another week, telling herself that he would come around when he adjusted to Jean's death. After all, it was a huge shock to lose her – they were going to be married. It was only natural that he would need more time than the rest of them.
Rogue, though mortified by her actions, was forgiven readily. She explained that she wasn't in control of herself at the time, though she couldn't give any explanation as to why. Charles understood completely, keeping to himself the knowledge of what he'd found in her mind. He started training her in power control himself again while the others worked on the mansion. Unknown to Rogue, Xavier added mental blocking and shielding to her curriculum, covertly probing for some hidden mental power that she might be unaware of.
The students weren't quite as quick to accept her back into the fold unfortunately. It wasn't their faults really; they'd been taught to fear what they didn't understand, and no one had bothered to explain the situation to them. All they knew was that Rogue had gotten hurt in a construction accident, and when she came back, both Logan and the professor were badly hurt and that she had something to do with it. Rumors flew across the school faster than the speed of light. Rogue had gone crazy and tried to absorb the professor and Logan. Magneto had taken over Rogue's mind and tried to kill them all. Rogue had stolen Logan's power and would've drained him dry if the professor, whom she lashed out at upon being caught, hadn't interrupted her. Rogue was really Mystique and had infiltrated the school as one of Magneto's plans to kill the X-men. The rumors went on and on despite anything that Rogue told them. Of course, the truth wouldn't have been that much better if she told them the whole story anyway.
At least she still had her friends with her. Kitty, Jubilee, Bobby, Seth, and Peter stood by her the whole time. Seth and Peter still seemed a bit jumpy around her, the rumors no doubt taking their effect on them, but they refused to shun Rogue like the rest of the school seemed intent to do. Those few weeks were extremely trying, to say the least, but when the mansion was finally finished and the students were settled in, the rumor mill found a new victim, and all the tales about Cyborg-Rogue and Traitor-Rogue vanished as quickly as the tents that had marred the front lawn.
Classes were resumed were they'd left a few months ago, granted with odd schedules and tons of review. All the students had gathered in a classroom, chattering excitedly at the first day of English class. English was one of Scott's classes, so if they had it in their schedules, it must mean that Scott was back to work. They'd started getting antsy when class hadn't started after 20 minutes. Then, Logan had burst through the classroom door, growling at them to get in their seats and get their damn books out. Needless to say, it was the quietest English class ever. The wide eyed students hadn't doodled, passed notes, chewed gum, or any of the other habits that students tend to pick up when they're in school. They sat and looked straight ahead or down at their books, whichever the moment called for, and spoke only when spoken to. Logan taught all of the English classes and Scott's auto class. The students were just happy when they went into math and saw Ororo at the front of the room. Plenty of things had changed since before the impromptu break, but life went on.
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