Disclaimer: All X-Men and related characters are property of Stan Lee and Marvel. I claim nothing over them except avid fascination.
As a slave to the Wolverine, I found myself forced to write this story. It's short and abrasive, but it helped a bit. He's still there though, so don't be surprised at the story's content. It's rated Mature for Language and Innuendo.
Displacement- Jean didn't die at Alkali Lake because another was there to take the burden from her shoulders. But, what happens when the two women find themselves victim to the same entity? LoganOC
Chapter Six- Fucking Tacos
(Eryana)
"We're not sure what you like, but we decided on tacos tonight," Ororo smiled at me as she led me to a large dining table and motioned for me to sit down. There were a number of other people grouped around the table, all staring at me of course, as I sat between Ororo and Jean and across from Logan.
Great, fucking tacos , I groaned to myself as I smiled at her. "Oh, joy," I gritted my teeth as I glanced at the table filled with bowls and serving dishes. But at least they had more than tacos. Taco flavored kisses for my Ben, I chuckled mentally as I grabbed a handful of tortilla chips and scarfed them down. Meanwhile, my gaze flicked over the unfamiliar faces of the people sitting at the table, my eyes narrowed in confusion. Not all of them appeared to be old enough to even buy me a pack of cigarettes, let alone staff or team members. "Who the hell are you?" my eyes locked on a girl with brown and white hair and extremely pale skin. "And why in the hell are you staring at me like I forgot to put on clothes?"
"Ah ain't starin'," she answered before her green eyes left mine and she stared intently at her plate.
Silence reigned over the large table as I munched on the handful of tortilla chips for a moment. While the girl stared intently at her plate and nudged a burrito with her fork, I took notice of a few things. The first and foremost was the fact that her bangs were white, but it appeared to be almost natural. That's just fucking weird, I thought to myself as I grabbed a jar of salsa and poured a great heaping amount onto my plate and continued to eat the chips. The next thing I noticed was her outfit. Though attractive, it made me wonder if she was perhaps gothic or simply liked wearing strange clothing. It's cold out, but why is she wearing gloves? I thought to myself as I narrowed my eyes in confusion. Choking on a chip, I took a quick drink of water from the glass in front of me and managed to swallow it as her eyes looked up and met mine. "Girl, why are you wearing gloves?"
She rewarded me with silence as she glanced around the table at the others before shrugging her shoulders. Logan's eyes met mine as the girl looked at me with terror in her eyes. "What d'ya mean?" she asked softly as her eyes darted to and fro.
"Rogue is a mutant with abilities much like your own, Eryana," the kind and gentle Charles Xavier spoke up from the head of the table, drawing my attention to him. "She is able to absorb another's mutation, memories, or even their life force with a mere touch," he smiled at me before picking up a beef taco and dropping half of it in his lap. Narrowing his eyes in anger, he continued to eat the remaining taco.
Stunned, I glanced back at the young girl and felt my throat tighten up in worry. I had never before met another with abilities even remotely close to my own, though believe me, Stryker spent a large majority of his time scouting the known mutant populations for another like me. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I asked, dropping a chip on the plate suddenly as I shook my head.
"Language, please," Ororo admonished me softly as she cleared her throat and nudged me in the side. "Please try to be on your best behavior, Eryana."
"And what the fuck do you call this," I motioned to myself. "I am being on my best fucking behavior miss 'high and mighty' goddess woman," I rolled my eyes. "Do you have any idea how much danger that kid's in by just being alive? It's a wonder that she's alive to tell you the truth. I was sure that Stryker had scoured every part of the globe for another absorber but perhaps I was wrong. So, tell me, girl, what do you do?" I pulled my gaze away from her eyes as I slowly and meticulously made the perfect taco.
"What da yah mean what do Ah do?" she seemed somewhat confused by my question. "When Ah touch people, bad things happen," she narrowed her eyes in my direction. "The Professor said that the same thing happens when yah touch people."
"No, the Professor's an old geezer and can't even wipe his own ass," I shook my head defiantly even as the others around the table gasped in horror and surprise. "Yes, I was once like you, young padawan, but I must admit that it has been over two years since I used my power without meaning to. You see, I have something you don't have," the lights in the room dimmed dramatically. "Control."
"Eryana, I must ask that you learn a bit of respect for everyone while you're here," the Professor admonished me as he shook his head slowly. "Rogue did not intend to be rude, and you're aware of that. Perhaps if you could shrug off your cold nature, you would realize that everybody in this room is on your side."
You're so full of shit, old man, I thought loudly, knowing that he would pick it up and probably Jean too. "I'm sorry, Rogue," I managed to smile at her as I finally finished creating the perfect taco and took a large bite out of it. "But the fact that you have no control really worries me. Are you aware of the fact that if the rest of the world knew about your mutation you would never be able to lead a normal life?" her eyes widened in horror at my comment as a dirty blonde haired boy next to her glared at me. "And don't be glaring at me, you little prick. It's not my fault your little girl's part of the 'Untouchables League'. I'd offer you membership, but it seems as though we've already maxed out our quota for a lifetime," I scowled at him as I took another bite of the delicious taco.
"How did yah get control?" the girl asked with a heavy accent, her eyes glued to mine as I slowly swallowed the large amount of food in my mouth. "Ah mean, were yah like me once?"
Placing my palms on the table and taking a deep breath, I prayed for control as the lights overhead flickered a few times. "I killed the first and only man I ever loved, Rogue," the memory threatened to cloud my mind as I shook my head. "Nobody is born with control. Control is gained through loss, blood, tears, and perfection. You can't just grab someone by the hand and expect to be able to keep the animal that lies waiting in your veins to surrender. Tell me, Xavier," I stared at the older man with a glint of malice in my eyes. "What have you done to ensure that this girl is capable of controlling her mutation?"
"Everything in my power," he answered quickly, his eyes alight with a certain dislike for yours truly. Obviously not used to opposition, I thought to myself with a sigh. "Rogue is slowly gaining control over her mutation and I expect that within the next nine months she will be in complete control."
Smiling at her, I felt a tug of a connection between myself and the sad little Southern girl. "That's good news at least," I let my eyes roam yet again over the other faces at the table. The boy sitting next to dear Rogue seemed to have a large amount of animosity in his eyes directed only toward me. "Do you have a problem with me kid? Because we can take this outside and I'll show you how you're supposed to respect a lady."
"You ain't a lady," he muttered under his breath as he averted his gaze and stared at what appeared to be a very interesting spot on the ceiling above my head.
Clenching my fist in annoyance, I shook my head. "Regardless of that fact, I think that you might want to learn a bit of respect for your elders, boy. After all, accidents do happen."
"Enough!" Jean shouted loudly from beside me as her eyes flashed an angry orange color. Her fists were on the table and her hands were shaking slightly as she shook her head, fighting to regain her composure. "Eryana, you are a guest in this School for now, and I strongly suggest that you learn to act like a guest. Everybody in this room right now wants only to be your friend and help you along. We don't appreciate being talked to like we are a pile of animal feces that needs to be bagged up and thrown away. So, if you wouldn't mind, could you tone it down a bit and at least pretend to be human for awhile?"
Gritting my teeth, I took a deep gulp from the glass of water in front of me and barely managed to refrain from choking her to death with my bare hands. "Oh, I'm so sorry Jean. After all, I've grown accustomed to being thrown into a room full of people I've never met. It's quite natural for me to love everybody with open arms and offer chocolates, right? It's a shame, really, that for the past three years I lived my life like an animal. Where are my manners?" her eyes dimmed slightly as the carbon dioxide in the air around her dissipated dramatically. "Please, won't you all forgive me?"
"You're such a damned smart ass, ain't ya?" Logan spoke up suddenly, causing my gaze to whip over to him in a split second. A smile played at his lips as he stared at me with narrowed eyes. "Look, we all understand that ya ain't really feelin' up ta fitting in 'round here, but that's no reason to try to take our heads off every time we try to talk to ya. Chuck ain't done a nothin' but be kind to ya and yet you're treatin' all of us like shit?" he stood up silently, his chest rising and falling as he glared at me in anger.
Well, I'm sure that's the pot calling the kettle black, I thought as I rolled my eyes and stood up too. "Why is it that you think you know so much about me, oh fearless Logan?" I sneered as I rested my palms on the table and leaned toward him, my heart beating a mile a minute.
He scowled at me as he shook his head and let out a soft murmur under his breath. "Because fifteen years ago I was in ya shoes, darlin'," his voice was soft and had lost some of its rough edges. "Ya can't take your anger out on us."
"You're so fucking right, Logan," I gritted my teeth in anger as the light in the room brightened to a blinding point. "You're always so fucking right, precious Wolverine. But you know what? I didn't want to stay here in the first place. So I suppose that this is my easy out, right?" I backed away from the table with my hands at my sides as I glanced across the length of the table and met the eyes of Charles Xavier. "Thank you for your hospitality, but sadly hairy retard man is right. I need to get out of here and settle down a bit away from people before I rip somebody's throat out in anger."
Turning on my heel, the lights returned to a normal level as I walked out of the room and back up the stairs that led to the room that had been given to me. Instead of entering my room, however, I entered Logan's. My gaze lingered on his unmade bed for a moment before I spotted a pair of well worn boots sitting propped against an open closet door. Glad I put on socks, I thought to myself as I quickly slid the slightly too big boots on and tied them tightly. When I straightened back up, I noticed a rather well worn leather jacket hanging precariously on a hanger in the closet. I quickly ripped it off of the hook and threw it over my shoulders and zipped it up.
"What the hell d'ya think you're doing?" I turned slowly to find myself looking at a rather angry Logan. "Take my fuckin' boots off and put the jacket back before I hurt ya, darlin'," he stepped toward me slowly.
Smiling, I walked forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Poor Logan, you just don't get it, do you?" I reached up and captured his mouth with mine. His lips were hot against mine as his hips gyrated toward mine. What am I doing? terror swept through me as I felt his mutation slipping out of him and gliding into my veins. I pulled away as his eyes widened and his body shook in pain before he fell backward. He twitched as he stared at me from his position on the bed. "Sorry about that, Logan," I honestly couldn't understand my actions. Shaking my head, I noticed a fat wad of money sitting on his nightstand and quickly shoved it in my pocket. "See you around, old man," I called over my shoulder as I slipped out of the room and made my way down the hall.
I could hear the others moving toward me from all directions, but with a bit of concentration, every single light bulb in the house exploded, leaving them alone in the dark as I stealthily made my way to the front door and left the mansion behind forever. I took off at a full run the moment the door slammed shut behind me, my legs pumping mechanically as I thought only of the freedom I had been dreaming of for years. What do I do now though? I questioned myself momentarily before sticking out a thumb as a large semi passed me. It pulled to an immediate stop and I ran toward the passenger side with a smirk on my face.
Any fucking where but here.
A/N: This chapter was quite fun to write. As you can see, Eryana doesn't particularly like Xavier, Bobby, or Jean, for that matter. Yes, I know they're out of character, but in my mind they were perfect in this chapter. Yes, Eryana has left. After all of the pain she went through as Stryker's pet, she's not ready to fit in with people yet. She needs time away. Have no fear though, she'll be back after a short break. Please review!
