Anna Marie felt alone. Her mutation sucked, the loss of her mutation stung, and the newfound knowledge that the 'cure' was temporary was worse than it all combined.
She had been walking down the street, and had paused at an electronics store to watch the news on t.v. with seven or eight homeless people like her. It wasn't strange in any way, just an average part of her routine.
Yet, according to the news, some cured mutants had returned to Worthington Labs to beg for more shots that made them human. Worthington Labs had turned them away, saying that they had used it all and had no way to make more. Mutants would return, and it would be trouble.
Immediately, and as casually as possible, Anna Marie had continued on her way. She turned the corner hastily and ran into a woman about thirty or so, knocking her over by accident. The woman had landed with her arm and part of her torso in a rather large mud puddle along the side of the street.
Quickly and with immense regret, Anna Marie helped the lady up. She was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed rich woman, and though Anna Marie didn't like her kind, she was not outrightly rude.
"Ah'm sorry," Anna Marie said, smoothly and innocently. "Ah wasn' payin' any 'ttention t' where Ah was headed. You alwright, ma'am?"
"This is a very expensive shirt," the woman said, growling. "And it is not waterproof."
"Ah'm sorry," muttered Anna Marie again. Part of her wished she was still a teenager so she could play stupid. She, as an adult, could be held responsible for messing up the lady's shirt.
"This is soo not your lucky day." With that growl, the woman dragged Anna Marie into a nearby alley. She picked Anna Marie up easily, and the two of them floated a dozen feet in the air.
"Supah-strength an' flight?" asked Anna Marie, seemingly unimpressed as she held onto the woman's arm with a tight grip.
"And a temper to
match," she said, smirking. "All I wanted was a normal life. And
since I can't have that, I might as well take that out on someone.
You? Well, you're as easy a target as any."
With that, the
woman streaked up into the sky. Anna Marie felt the skin on her face
stinging from the wind as they moved. The lady made as though she
would drop Anna Marie, who grabbed her forearm with her other hand in
automatic response.
Two short seconds passed with Carol in vague shock. Anna Marie, Rouge, was draining her, and Carol panicked. She tried to pry the other woman's hands off of hers, but her own hands stuck like glue to Rogue. They plummeted downwards.
They were very close to the ground when Carol's flight kicked in, but in Rogue's body. Rouge pulled up, barely keeping herself from falling, but Carol slipped from her grip. Already without her powers, she kept falling instead of catching herself. She landed hard, her body bent at a painful angle.
Gently Rogue lowered herself, then dropped. She'd never used flight before, and it was a slight struggle for her, but she had landed unharmed.
Rogue started to apologize, but Carol didn't listen to her and began wailing about how her back was broken. She'd never walk again, both of them knew. Then, she said something that Rogue never expected.
"Kill me. Do whatever it was you did earlier and kill me!" Carol kept begging until Rogue stood to leave, her bag slung over her shoulder. Carol grabbed Rogue's shin, and let the pulling sensation take her consciousness away. Rogue tried to keep moving, but Carol wouldn't let her.
There wasn't long before Carol's psyche filled her mind with thoughts. Immediately enraged, Rogue lashed out at the psyche, the same way she had killed Magneto's psychic echo. Carol's scream filled her mind and her ears, and Rogue pulled herself away quickly. Panic took over, and Rogue took to the air, flying fast and hard.
-
Exhausted, Rogue sat back. Barely a few days had passed since Carol's death, but Rogue had made it all the way back to New York. It was, in essence, the only logical place she could go. No one would recognize her at her new age, and should there be any trouble, the X-Men would be there to clean up the mess and stop the fights. It was, in essence, part of the job.
Besides that, Rogue couldn't help but want to see how much the school had changed since she'd left. A little over a month had passed, and there was sure to be a lot of trouble, like usual.
Slowly Rogue looked around the bar. She had often heard Logan mutter about coming here, and she could see why now. It was a calm, homey place, with a lot of friendly people crowded together.
Rogue was clad in her poncho and a pair of brown gloves that covered her elbows. Her skin was hidden, her body was strong enough to endure the hunger she'd suffered, and she felt comfortable for a few minutes.
Unfortunately, that was all she was allowed. Already drunk, which in and of itself was a miracle, Logan staggered into the small bar and sat himself down. He ordered a beer, and chugged it down before anyone could protest. The bartender moved on to Rogue next, and when she questioned his sanity, he laughed.
"Between the two of us, it's just soda and water. He thinks it's beer, we know it ain't. Everyone's happy!"
Rogue nodded her understanding and watched the Wolverine down three or four of the "beers", stumble out of the bar, and rev up his motorcycle. Concerned, Rogue followed him on foot. She didn't run across any accidents, and Logan made it back to the institute.
At the gate, already scolding him, was a bald man with blue eyes, not unlike the professor. However, the man was standing on his own, walking without the wheelchair that Xavier had always been confined to. The man finished chastising Logan and sent him inside, but turned and looked at Rogue for a moment. It was all she needed to be sure, absoloutely positive, that the man really was their dead professor, different though he was.
Rogue quickly turned and started walking towards the park, shifting her bag occasionally. When she got there, someone was already sitting on the nearest bench. Normally, she would have ignored them altogether, but as it was a sobbing Ororo Munroe…
"'Scuse me, ma'am," Rogue said, tapping the woman on the shoulder gently. "You alright?"
"No," the weather-witch sobbed. "I… He…"
Quietly Rogue sat down beside her. "Shh… Calm down. Now, tell me what's the matter."
This time, Ororo managed to make herself heard. Rogue struggled to understand what she was saying. "It's this guy… I love him, but… It started a while ago… He wants this other woman… And she's engaged already. I… they… She and her fiance, they were… away for a while. Then they came back… Plus, this kid… the man was really attached to her when she left… She hasn't come back… He… He's been drinking himself sick every night…"
"Does this man know that you love him?" Ororo didn't answer. Slowly Rogue began to piece together what was going on, sort of.
The couple who had left… The only couple Rogue could think of were Jean and Scott, but Jean was dead. Twice. Scott had only gone once, but he was gone, too. The man, well, he had to be Logan. The kid might have been her, if she was right.
"What was his name?" Rogue asked slowly. Ororo looked up at her, still crying.
"Logan," she said quietly as she stood up. Her voice held a strong conviction to it as she added, "And I love him."
Rogue watched the older woman go off, then followed at a good distance. Ororo wouldn't have such an explosive confrontation inside, and Rogue wanted to watch. Her gloved hands pushed the hood of her sweatshirt down behind her so she could see better, and she stopped a while away from the mansion.
As soon as she came to a stop, Storm and Logan appeared. Logan had sobered up quite a bit, but Ororo hadn't even dried her eyes. She was pulling him by the wrist, and he looked concerned. He didn't seem like his usual self at all, but Rogue could tell he would remember everything come tomorrow morning, which was better than most men.
Still holding him by the wrists, Storm began to explain to Logan how she really felt. Rogue was still too far to hear them, but Logan seemed to be more than happy about it. He leaned in to kiss her, but Storm stopped him, now moving on to complain about… something. Probably the drinking. He looked away, spoke some, and the next Rogue knew, they kissed and embraced, and Storm glanced over at Rogue for a second.
Rogue smirked and gave a single wave, like a salute. Storm had recognized her. She knew it immediately. Her hood was down around her neck, so her hair and face were plainly visible, and Storm's eyes were clear of tears. Rogue just turned and walked off, knowing that Storm wouldn't follow her.
