Sorry for the delay. Been real busy, but here's Chapter 8!

"And in other news today, sources say a top aide to President David Cockrum was fired for allegedly leaking information about the revival of a long dead program aimed at, sources say, mutant crime control."

The bus intercom had been activated by the driver. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?" she was saying. At our next scheduled stop we will be picking up extra passengers from bus number fourteen twenty. Number fourteen twenty broke down at the next depot on our route. It is the non-stop to San Francisco. We will be re-designated as a non-stop from that point on at no extra charge to you. Thank you."

Great, she thought. More people. Hopefully there would not be too many. The back of the different buses is where she had ridden the entire trip thus far and it had remained relatively empty. If anyone came near her she acted like she wanted to be alone and that seemed to be enough to give her four back rows to herself. Alone in her grief is where she wanted to be and so far had gotten her wish.

Rogue pondered the news they heard from a radio someone had on the bus. Magneto had regained his powers? So she was not the only one it happened to. The news report claimed that across the globe mutant powers were returning to their owners. She knew that, like her, many were distraught over the resurgence of their powers and deformities. Suicide among mutants had increased due to the fact. Some were in mental institutions because it made them crazy. Still others had caused riots wanting answers to questions that no one seemed to have answers for. Research continued to take place to figure out what had gone wrong.

Yet all the pondering and thinking in the world was not going to bring back Bobby.

Bobby. His name flashed through her mind again as it had this entire trip. No matter what she did to change the subject of thought, somehow Bobby always reoccurred in the line of thinking. It was as though she was being haunted by his death.

Death. Now such an ugly word. One of life's standard processes now was nothing more than cursing and swearing to her. Death had cost her the lives of too many close to her, especially recently. Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Professor Charles Xavier.

And Bobby. She leaned forward in the seat and rubbed her hands across her face. How did it all get so complicated? What was she to do without him? With her face hidden in her hands she could feel Bobby's touch even now. He was right there; kissing her and making her feel wonderful. She lingered in the moment, not wanting it to end. He pulled back from her and looked at her, smiling that beautiful smile he had. She felt so alive when he was near.

A car horn blaring next to the bus forced her to open her eyes. She looked around for a moment then remembered where she was. Reality set in once more. Bobby was not here.

Bobby was dead.

Marie hung her head and started crying again.


Rotten luck.

That is what Mystique was thinking. Of all times for public transportation to break down it had to be now. Sure, she only had about another hour to wait but she had grown impatient watching the mechanic perform futility on a dead engine. Smoke had been pouring out of the engine compartment earlier. The trouble, it seemed, was an electrical short. Everyone had been evacuated from the now defunct bus. The bus line and depot personnel made everyone as comfortable as they could to even offering free meals in the adjacent restaurant. Mystique chose to sit and read a fashion magazine while she waited. When no one was looking she would "try on" various outfits in the magazine to see if she liked one. To her, it was much easier this way than to shop in a store for what she wanted.

She had already changed her shape before boarding the first bus. The guard she had impersonated was a little stocky and not that good looking, so she settled for a more appealing look. Raven did notice that since her powers had returned that she could hold the shape she chose longer. The energy expenditure did not seem as strenuous now. That meant she could just about impersonate anybody and get away with it. She had all the possibilities running through her head when the ticket agent announced the relief bus's arrival.

She ducked into the ladies room and entered a stall immediately changing back into her natural blue skin. Breathing out a sigh she sat down to relax. Boarding took a few minutes, especially since the attendants had to load the luggage from the other passengers. This would enable her to hold her chosen image longer on the trip to California. Perhaps, she considered, it could be held all the way to San Francisco.

In a few minutes the ticket agent was giving the last call for boarding the non-stop bus to San Francisco. The door to the ladies room opened and a rather smart dressed young woman emerged. She had an air of confidence in her walk and a slight smile on her face. She smiled at the attendants who just stared back at her watching her from behind as she walked past them and boarded the bus. She turned and winked at them bringing grins and smiles to their faces.

Fools, she thought as she looked for a seat on the bus. Raven noticed a girl a little younger than herself sitting alone in the back and realized that she knew her. It was Rogue, one of Xavier's kids, she mused. Slowly she walked to the back of the bus and sat down in the seat opposite Rogue. Marie eyed her as she sat down; the woman turned and flashed a grin at her.

"Hi," the woman said, turning back to her carryon bag and pretending to look for something in it.

Marie said, "Hi," flatly and turned her head to the front. Obviously this one wasn't going to move. It appeared that she was going to have company on the last leg of the trip anyway.


Wolverine had not moved. Neither had Cyclops. They sat on the garden bench in stark silence. It appeared as though Scott was letting what the man seated next to him had just said. He rose to his feet and walked about four paces away from the bench. He never turned around, but instead placed his hands on his hips and, looking skyward, said blandly, "You killed her."

Logan shifted his weight on the bench, his head still down glancing at the ground. His reply was short.

"Yeah."

He waited for what might come next. He really expected Scott to turn and pounce on him. He was concentrating to keep his own emotional state in check. One thing he didn't need at the moment was a fight with Scott Summers. He knew he would have to move quick if Scott turned and activated that optic blast of his. Otherwise, his goose would be cooked. Literally. He noticed a slight turn of Cyclops' foot. Here it comes, he thought, but it wasn't what he expected.

Scott had turned completely around now and faced him. His stance looked like someone tired, confused and dejected. His tone and sentence indicated much the same.

"So you just killed her for killing the Professor, huh, Logan? Killing is so easy for you, isn't it? No regard for who or what, right? Just put it out of your misery?" His voice had risen slightly in tone. When he finished berating Logan, he shook his head and turned his back to him.

Logan sat up straight now and raised his head towards Scott's direction.

"It wasn't like that, Cyclops," he returned.

Scott turned his head slightly to the right peering over his own shoulder, unable to believe what Wolverine just said. He turned fully around and looked down at the man.

"Oh, really?" he questioned, walking toward the bench and standing directly in front of him. Logan stood to face him. "Then why don't you tell me how it was?" Scott continued, almost nose to nose with him.

Logan stared at him for a moment and eased away from him retreating behind the bench. It was a power move to gain distance between them. He felt that if Scott tried anything he was better suited to duck and cover than to fight the man face to face. He did not normally back down from a fight but this was a time, as the Professor would have said, for reasoning. Over the past few months he had tried to incorporate some of those ideals into his own person.

"I didn't kill her because she killed the Professor," he said. "It wasn't even at her house that it happened."

"Where was it?" Scott demanded.

Wolverine turned around. "Alcatraz. We had been fighting Magneto and his army."

He told of how they defeated Magneto and the Brotherhood and how Jean had turned into the Phoenix at that point. He told of how the world as they knew it was being torn apart atom by atom by her, of how he knew he was the only one that could stop her. Scott stood still and only listened up to that point then he interrupted.

"And that's when you killed her. Just pulled out those claws and rammed them through her." His tone was heated and deadpan at the same time.

"No," Logan continued. "That's not when I 'just killed her.'"

Scott raised his voice, leaned slightly forward and with hands partially outstretched, said, "Then what, Logan? What? What else is there?" Neither one said anything. They just stared at each other. Scott, turning to walk away, said, "You're pathetic."

Logan watched him walk away. He knew Scott did not have the whole story yet. But the man was being very stubborn, a trait Logan knew all too well. With one remark, he stopped Cyclops from going.

"I loved her."

Scott Summers stopped. He did not turn around. He did not say anything. He only stood where he had stopped. Wolverine had lowered his eyes, a movement that Scott did not see.

"I loved her," he said softly.

"You loved her?" Scott said, turning around slowly, a look of disgust on his face. "You loved her!" he smirked. Anger now. "How the hell do you kill somebody you love? Huh, Logan? How do you do that?"

Logan met his gaze. All the emotions he had bottled up for years, no, more like, decades, so badly wanted to surface. Deep down inside of him was a human being crying, screaming to get out. But it was masked and muffled by a creature much more powerful that any human. It was subdued by the other personality inside of him, the only one that ever seemed to come out. The Wolverine.

"I never said it was easy, Cyclops. Still, I was the only one that could stop her. I thought she would listen to me. She tried ripping me apart, too, but as you know, my healing power won't let me die. I was able to get right next to her. Yeah, my claws were extended. We hand just done battle and I hadn't drawn them back in. The closer I got to her, though, the more I realized that there may only be one way to stop her.

"I was right there, Scott," his said, eyes down. "I was looking straight into those beautiful eyes of hers. And then she said, 'You would do this? For them?'" He raised his eyes before he spoke again and Scott would have sworn that he saw a tear in Wolverine's eye. Logan shook his head. "'No, I told her. 'Not for them. For you.'" His eyes lowered again. He whispered, "For you."

Summers could only look at Logan. He had probably seen more emotion than anyone ever had from this man they called Wolverine. He couldn't fathom the man, couldn't understand the depths Logan was coming from. When he had left to go to Alkali Lake, he had told him, "Not everyone heals as fast as you, Logan." Now he now was seeing the emotional scars that Logan was carrying around, scars that had no immediate healing, scars that would last a very long time.

Logan spoke again raising his head and standing a little straighter. "That's when she said . . . Jean, not the Phoenix, she said, 'Save me, Logan.' And I . . ." His voice caught in his throat. "And I . . . I said . . . 'I will.' That's when . . . when . . ." He couldn't bring himself to say it. Not out loud. The pain was still too great. To himself he said, I killed her. He lowered his head, realizing the emotion he was feeling was called guilt, even though there was nothing more he could have done in order to save Jean alive.

Nothing else needed to be said. Scott just looked at him. He came to know some of the inner workings of the man before him and knew how difficult it must be for him. He had shown a side that no one sees. And, Scott thought to himself, it's a side that will remain between us. He placed his right hand on Logan's shoulder. Logan raised his head to look at Scott. Scott simply smiled at him. Summers empathized with him. He missed Jean, too, and knew some of how Logan felt. Part of him wanted to tear the man apart but the other part of him knew what he was going through. They were kindred spirits in that respect, each of them hurting over the loss of someone each of them loved dearly. Scott's next move surprised even Logan.

"Come on," he said somewhat sympathetically. "Let me buy you a beer," and gently moved Wolverine in the direction of the mansion. A very familiar voice stopped both of them in their tracks.

"Well, I'm glad to see you two finally getting along."

They each said the word at the same time.

"Professor?"

They both hurried to the man in the wheelchair. Neither of them recognized the woman behind him. Frankly, they were a little stunned to hear the Professor's voice as the one in the chair did not resemble the man at all. But there was no mistaking that voice. The man was speaking even as they approached yet his lips were not moving.

It's good to see you, Scott, Logan. He was communicating telepathically with them.

"Professor," Scott started to say, "how. . .?'

Xavier cut him off. I would ask the same of you, Scott, but Storm filled me in when we got here. He spoke openly. "Forgive my rudeness. Boys, this is Doctor Moira MacTaggart. Moira, this is Scott Summers," he said, pointing to him, "and this is Logan." The three exchanged handshakes and pleasantries. Ororo Munroe stepped out of the doorway.

"I thought this would be a nice surprise for you two," she said.

Logan voiced their opinions. "Definitely," he said, but inquisitively added, "How long have you three been listening to us?"

Xavier raised a hand. "Relax, Logan. We just stepped out. All we know is that you two were discussing Jean's death. I am aware of the entire incident with Magneto and the Brotherhood. I am also aware that Eric's powers have returned to him."

Wolverine nodded. "Yeah, so has Rogue's. She thought she killed Bobby."

"Where is she?" Charles asked.

Logan shrugged as did Storm. "Beats me," Logan said. "She ran outta here like a bat out of hell. No one knows where she went."

"Well," Charles said, "if she has her powers back, I can locate her with Cerebro as well. We have a situation brewing."

Scott spoke up. "What kind of situation?"

"There has been an incident in District X in San Francisco. A meeting there between mutants and government officials from all over the world went terribly wrong when Magneto, excuse me, Lord Magnus as he says he is now called, disrupted the meeting and killed almost everyone there. Very few escaped with their lives. One of the delegates was the new U. N. Ambassador of Mutant Affairs, Hank McCoy."

"Is he alright?" Logan asked.

"Yes," the Professor said. "He was able to pull out Pyro and Callisto with him. Unfortunately they watched the building finish collapsing on top of her husband, Jack Stover. Washington has started a full scale security operation to put a stop to Magneto's plans."

"Which are?" It was Scott.

"He is planning to eliminate all who were responsible for the administration of the cure. All top level government officials, including the President. And not just here. He is planning a worldwide takeover."

Storm came into the conversation. "Then we need to form a strike force to handle this."

"Yes," agreed the Professor. "And we also need to find the whereabouts of Mystique and Rogue."

"Mystique?" Logan questioned.

"She escaped from prison three days ago, killing the guard that brought her food and clean bed linens. With her ability to morph it is proving hard to track her. We will use Cerebro to get a general location on them both. Storm, you, Logan and Moira accompany me to Cerebro. Scott, I need you to form a defensive strike team. Are you up to it?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. Let's get started."


The mystery woman was saying something. Marie had been trying to ignore her. Half-heartedly, she responded.

"I'm sorry. You were saying something?"

"Yes. I asked 'Who do you know in San Francisco?'"

Marie shrugged. "Just a friend," and faced the front again. "I have business with him."

"Oh, so it's a male friend," Mystique said with a bit of intrigue in her voice. "Boyfriend, perhaps?"

Marie turned her head toward her for only a moment before saying, "No. It's strictly business. This is a much older gentleman."

There was a brief silence and the woman spoke again, turning in her seat to face Rogue. "I'm sorry," she began, "my name's Misty. You look as though something is bothering you."

Frowning, Marie glanced at her. She really did not want to discuss anything with the woman. "No, I'm fine, thank you," she said curtly.

'Misty' drug out the next phrase. "I don't know," she drawled, "I've seen this look before. There's something you don't want to talk about."

You got that right, lady, Marie thought. Why don't you just leave me alone? My problems are none of your business. But she answered with, "You're right. I don't."

Misty turned and adjusted herself in the seat, legs forward, right leg crossing the left. She fumbled with a broach she had found in the carryon bag. "You know, experts say that it's sometimes best to confide in a stranger. Strangers don't know you personally and may be able to offer some good advice."

Rogue thought over what the woman said. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea. "But how do I know that I can trust you?" she asked.

Mystique shook her head. "You don't," she replied. "You know what? Maybe it's not such a good idea. Maybe you just need to be alone with your thoughts." She paused long enough to let the girl think on that. "I just thought it might make you feel better." She leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes.

She considered everything the woman had said. The pain she felt inside was unbearable. But yet it felt as if it were something that didn't need to be shared. Should she tell her the whole story? Would it help her to share her feelings? She certainly wanted a shoulder to cry on. All her life it seemed that no one really cared for her. That's how she had become a runaway to begin with. She remembered that's how she met Logan. They were like brother and sister to some extent. Logan was somebody she could identify with. The image of Logan in her head brought about thoughts of trust. Rogue was leery of trusting most people. It seemed they wanted to only take advantage of her. Sitting in the seat across from her was a woman offering a sympathetic ear and she was turning it down.

"I'm sorry," she said to Misty. "It's just that it's all so confusing."

Misty sat up and turned to her, smiling. "What is, honey?"

Marie could feel the tears trying to start again. "I've done something terrible."

"Maybe it's not as bad as you let on."

She choked back a sob. "Oh, yeah, it is. It's really bad."

Misty was definitely intrigued. She turned ninety degrees in the seat to face Rogue. With concern in her voice, she asked, "What's really bad?"

Now Rogue turned to face her. "Can you keep a secret? I mean, no one absolutely no one can ever find out what I'm going to tell you."

Mystique knew this was going to be good. "Trust me, honey. I'll take it to the grave with me."

They leaned in toward each other. Mystique tilted her head to give the girl the privilege of whispering in her ear if she wanted to. Marie took advantage of that opportunity. In a low voice, she said,

"I killed my boyfriend."

Mystique pondered the information presented to her. She looked at Marie who was now sitting upright. Her brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. You see, I'm a mutant. I'm not one of the 'bad' mutants. I have a power that allows me to drain someone else's from them. If I stay in contact with them long enough, I could possibly kill them."

"Possibly kill them?"

"In all probability I could. On the way to the bus station in New York I stopped a carload of boys from abducting me by grabbing on to the driver's wrist and activating my power. I felt his life draining into me and he was only a human. I could have killed him quickly."

"Do you know for sure that you killed the young man, your boyfriend I mean?"

Rogue had been able to control her emotions until now. The question brought flashes of Bobby lying on the bed gasping for air, the color of his skin very pale as the life had been nearly drained from him.

"Yes," she replied, lowering her eyes for a moment. "I watched him take his last breaths." A tear rolled down her cheek. "That was almost five days ago now. I left the area and I'm heading for California."

Mystique cut her a look that was full of questions. "Did you report the incident?"

Marie looked stunned. "Report it? To who?" She gathered her thoughts. "What good would it do? He's dead. That won't bring him back."

Mystique placed her hand on the girl's sleeve. "But it sounds like it was an accident. Unless you two were having an argument."

"No. Bobby didn't like to argue. He was always so kind to me. He said it didn't matter if we couldn't touch. He loved me anyway. He cared for me a lot."

"Sounds like a fine young man."

Rogue was wiping her eyes. Misty found a tissue in her carryon and handed it to her. Marie thanked her and wiped the tears from her cheek.

"Was," she said. "We were enjoying each other so much after I took the cure."

"Oh did you take that? I heard it did wonders for so many."

Marie shook her head. "No, it didn't. It was a fluke. There was no cure. It only lasted a few months. Bobby and I were, well, we were, you know."

"Making out?"

Marie's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. She had never discussed the intimate relationship she had with Bobby with anyone, especially not a total stranger. But at the same time the words from the woman's mouth made her smile.

"Yeah," she responded, a small laugh mingling in with her tears. "Yeah, we were."

Her tone then became melancholy. "That's when it happened."

"You two were embraced, and?"

"Yeah." She raised her eyebrows for an instant. "And."

Marie started crying liberally now, sobs breaking forth from her. "I'll never forget the look of shock on his face. It was sheer panic I saw in his eyes. It terrified me and I ran screaming from the room." She took a breath to calm herself. She gained control of herself before continuing.

"I've been running since. But I can't escape the nightmares. I see him every time I close my eyes. I think of him constantly in the daytime."

"What's in San Francisco? You said something about a friend out there."

Marie shook her head. "I lied. I really didn't want to talk so I made it up. I'm going to kill the man who caused all this."

"Someone in California put you up to this?"

Marie chuckled through the tears. "Yeah," she said cynically, "the man who thought up that stupid cure."

Mystique knew exactly the person the girl was talking about. "Warren Worthington?"

"Uh-huh."

"Why kill him?"

"This would have never happened if it hadn't been for him!"

"But he didn't force the cure on you. You took it willingly, right?"

Marie was astounded. She was looking for sympathy and confirmation that what she was doing was right and here this woman questions her intents.

"Yeah, but he invented it because he didn't like having a mutant for a son. From what I understand he even tried to force it on him. What kind of father would do that? Why can't we just be accepted as we are?"

Silence. Mystique knew about non-acceptance. She knew it all too well. If the girl knew who she was, she would have subdued her by now, or turned her in or something she supposed. But here was a golden opportunity to watch one of Xavier's precious X-Men commit a crime. Obviously the girl was distraught. And Mystique planned on capitalizing on it.

"You're right," she conceded. "It isn't fair that you are treated the way you are. I have many mutant friends. Several of them live in San Francisco. I can offer you a place to stay if you need one. I can even get transportation to Worthington Industries for you. It won't cost you anything."

Marie turned to face her. "You would help me?"

"No problem. You just say when. I'll even go with you to Worthington Industries."

"So what I'm doing, it's okay?"

Mystique tried to sound parental. "My dear, your boyfriend's death wasn't your fault. It's as you said. If that damned cure hadn't been invented, then none of this would've happened. Someone needs to pay and pay dearly for this injustice."

Rogue didn't know what to say. Calmly and rather taken aback, she said, "Thank you."

Misty patted the girl's arm again and turned in her seat, legs crossed. She looked pleased with herself.

I can't wait to get to San Francisco, she thought.


Professor X, Storm, Logan and Doctor MacTaggart left the room housing Cerebro. Moira had been impressed with the technology. Xavier was able to locate mutants around the world with the device and an automatic program alerted the Professor when new mutant powers were emerging. Locating Mystique and Rogue proved a simple task. However, they did not expect the two to be traveling together. Storm was the first to speak.

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would not have believed it."

"Same here," Logan chimed in. "Marie must really be upset to take up with the likes of Mystique."

The Professor stopped their gathering rumors. "Now, that's enough, both of you," he chided. "They are on the same bus. That is true. However, that fact does not mean they're traveling together. Rogue may not even know that it is Mystique sitting next to her."

Ororo and Logan agreed with him. "Then what do we do?" asked Storm.

"We must bring her back here," Charles answered. "She does not know that Iceman is alright. In her state of mind she may be capable of anything. And if she is traveling to San Francisco with Mystique, then we need to find out what their plans are. According to the bus line schedule, they should be arriving in San Francisco in about five hours. We can be there before then in the Blackbird."

"Okay," said Storm. "I'll ready the plane."

Before she left for the hangar bay, Angel approached the group. "Professor, I think I know why she is going to San Francisco."

All eyes turned to him.

"What would that be, Warren?"

"My father was responsible for the vaccine that went sour. The government forced it on a lot of mutants."

"But many took it willingly," Logan stated.

"That's very true," Warren continued, "but it doesn't change the fact that their powers returned even stronger. There are a lot of people upset with him and his research team. It's remotely possible that she's headed for Worthington Industries."

The Professor considered what the young man was saying and nodded. "Very well. Storm, our destination is Worthington Industries. Warren, you're allowed to come with us if you want."

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I was coming one way or another. That's my father out there. He understands us now. Unfortunately a lot of people and mutants don't understand him."

Logan spoke. "I'm going, too. I may be able to talk to Rogue. She and I have a kind of bond."

"Then it's set," Xavier said resolutely. "Scott is forming to defense team. We'll go to San Francisco and retrieve Rogue. From what I gather from intelligence reports and Cerebro, Magneto has yet to make a move on any government. Perhaps we can diffuse one situation before we're forced into another one. Moira, I appreciate all your help."

The woman bent to kiss him lightly on each cheek. "You are quite welcome, Charles. I plan on being here when you get back. If you need anything, I can contact my friend."

Charles smiled at her. "Thank you. Stay as long as you like. Let's go team."

Moira watched them head toward the hangar bay.

"Good luck, X-Men," she whispered.