Evolution Of Friends Chapter X, a x-men: evolution fanfic

Evolution of Friends by Jessica X

Though I've written many chapters before and since this one (that you will see soon enough!), Ten remains a special favourite. Everything just sort've fell into place, and came out just the way I'd envisioned it. I can only hope you'll feel half as close to it as I do.

RebelRogue127: Hmm... we'll see what goes. I will keep your suggestion in mind, though.
Rogue14: Of course!
WC Reaf: You know, this isn't the first time someone's commented that my fanworks rival (or best) the original in some fashion... and it never gets old XD The "well-oiled etc" was a figure of speech; sure, they just beat up the occasional supervillain out of necessity NOW, but they certainly think of themselves as the good guys. As for the Perspective-Switching... I realized quite early on that if I wrote the entire fic in Rogue's POV, you'd miss things since she couldn't be there for everything... so I had to make a decision. A: write it that way and have characters annoyingly catch her up on everything she's missed, or B: switch POVs annoyingly so you would experience it firsthand. I went with B, and I'm sorry to say it will only get worse T.T

•Chapter Ten•

"Guess nobody else could sleep."

Scott, Risty, Kurt, Jean and Evan looked up glumly as Kitty and I entered the kitchen. Despite the bags under our eyes and the bandages on our wounds, none of us were inclined to rest much that night. Personally, I'd rather have gone back to the mall and given it another shot, but I knew that wasn't a bright idea.

"Not a wink, luv," Risty mumbled, readjusting the bag of frozen peas she'd been holding against her eye.

"This is retarded," Kitty spat as she fixed herself a glass of water. "We were so useless!"

Evan tossed an empty soda can at the recycle bin - and missed. "Tell us something we don't know."

"Scott was just saying we should double our daily sessions," Jean recapped for the two of us. "We can't suffer another defeat like that."

Kurt chuckled hollowly. "No kidding."

"There's gotta be a way," I said as I sat down at the table next to Risty. "Something we can do to guard against that witchcraft of hers."

"Jean," Scott said slowly, sounding the teeniest bit less bitter. "The Professor's psychic blasts worked against Juggernaut. It's a long shot, but maybe that's the answer here."

"I don't know how to do those, yet."

"No time like the present."

She considered that, then nodded quietly, staring at her hands again. "I'll ask him in the morning."

"Most of us are going to be totally useless against her... or worse." It was obvious he was mainly talking about himself. "From Risty's valiant effort, we now know she can even foul up purely physical attacks." He stopped, mouth halfway between forming a word, then changed direction. "Wait..."

"What is it, Scott?" Kitty asked.

"The answer." He smiled weakly, then laughed, running a hand through his brown hair. "It's Rogue."

A second or two of silence lapsed.

"Of course," Jean breathed, her eyes wide with understanding - and excitement.

"Ya think?" I asked meekly. "I mean... what if she can turn my energy drain around, too?"

By now, Scott was grinning. "What if she can't? Look at the facts. Wanda reflects attacks back on attacker; physical, energy, and even more sophisticated stuff like teleportation and corporeal intangibility. But your osmosis isn't an attack so much as a... transference. Besides, if she doesn't know you're there..."

"If you can sneak up behind her," Kitty whispered, "grab her by the chin, maybe?"

"Once your skin touches hers, I'll bet there's nothing she can do to stop it." Scott leaned back in his chair, folding his arms and beaming like he'd just been handed the keys to the pearly gates.

"The rest of us can be decoys," Evan put in. "It won't be my proudest moment as an X-Man, but if it works..."

"She'll have to sneak up on Wanda purely by stealth." Risty flipped the bag over. "No aid from Kurt or Kitty; it'll just go wonky again."

"I don't vant to strand us at the North Pole," Kurt laughed.

The door swung open and Ororo walked in, eyebrow raised at the laughing faces. "What's this? Couldn't put off the commiserating until tomorrow?"

"It's not a pity party, Auntie O," Evan said.

"Oh?"

Scott's smile turned a bit wryer. "More like... impromptu strategizing."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

Over the next three days, the X-Men spent almost every waking hour we weren't at school in the Danger Room. Normally, it would've been a complete nightmare, but we all knew it was necessary if we wanted a shot at anything other than losing next time. Scott and Beast even cooked up a new simulation named "Witch Hunt", for obvious reasons.

We kept at it, even when the Professor took Jean out of the sessions to help him with Cerebro on the third day. When we all felt like we couldn't throw another punch, we trained more. When we really couldn't move, Scott pushed himself further. When HE couldn't move, the six of us finally retired to the kitchen for some Red Bulls and a few precious minutes of breathing.

"Hi, guys," Jean said glumly as she joined us an hour later. We were all still too sweaty and exhausted to do more than blink, so she continued, "Sorry I couldn't be there."

"Oh yeah," Evan panted. "You... missed all the... fun."

She smiled, then cleared her throat as she sat down. "I've been gone this long because... we can't locate Wolverine."

"What?" I instantly regretted doing that - my lungs protested in the form of a hacking fit.

"He was tracking Sabretooth... um, again. Now we can't find either of them."

Scott set his can down. "Magneto."

"Maybe; that's what the Professor thinks, anyway. He sent Beast and Storm out to case their last known location; who knows, maybe a clue will turn-"

"Let's get back in there."

"Are you nuts?" Kurt groaned. "Sure, ve must strengthen our combat ability, but I'm gonna croak if I don't get some downtime!"

Scott stood up, banging the table. "He got Logan, dammit! We've gotta be ready for a rescue op when we discover his location!"

"But Logan's a human tank," Kitty said in a small voice. "If he got caught..."

None of us needed to hear the rest of that as we glanced at each other. Jaw set, I followed the rest of my determined comrades away from the kitchen and toward more rigorous exercises.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"It's getting better."

Risty laughed. "No, it's not. I still look like Petey from the Little Rascals."

My eyebrows knitted of their own accord. "Who?"

"Nevermind." She went back to poking at the fading darkness around her eye in the bathroom mirror. "I've had worse."

"Really?"

"Of course. I was an uncontrollable terror as a child. Three broken bones, you know." Her smile slipped at that point. "I'd show you the scars, but... they're not there anymore."

"Huh? Why not?"

She leaned against the sink, staring at her socks. "When Mystique and I experienced our schism... I regained my body. But it's not really the same body I had before. Things are different than I remember from before we fused... well, the things I can remember."

"How different is it?"

There was an old fear in her smile, now; something that still haunted her. "When I woke up in the ditch, something kept interfering with my vision. I was so confused and disoriented that it took me about an hour to realize..."

"Realize what?"

"I had hair, Rogue. Loads of it. It was down past my shoulderblades." She shook slightly. "I hadn't grown my hair that long in five years, maybe more."

"That doesn't make any sense. Shouldn't your hair have been the same length as when you two combined?"

"Tell that to the scientists who drafted my body. That's just the problem; they got my basic genetic code, but didn't incorporate the changes my body had undergone since birth well enough. My face, height, weight, eye colour... those were fine for the most part. Even my memories were nearly intact. But they didn't have the time to bother about nuances... like scars."

"'Cause Mystique just wanted you outta there."

"Right in one."

A question flashed through my mind; it's really weird that I never thought to ask her before. "Risty... what colour is your hair?"

"Hmm?"

"Y'know... naturally."

If anything, she looked even more beleaguered when I asked that. "It used to be a sort've light brown. Sandy, some would say."

"Wait, wait, what's this 'used to be' stuff?"

"Just as I said." Frustration tinged her words. "The gits couldn't pinpoint it... bits of my genetic data had begun to break down from the long months swimming around in Mystique's body. Nuances."

She reached up and pulled a strand down in front of her eyes, staring at it intently. "Mystique tried fishing it out of my memories, but I'd locked her out; I was gaining more and more control. That bitch was so fed up and anxious to be rid of me that she just told her lackeys what colour it was when she stole my car. They insisted they could probably pinpoint it if they had another week, but... patience is not one of her virtues. Besides, this made for a kind of 'fun' project for them."

That was so crazy and hard to believe, but Risty was dead serious. "So..."

"It's purple, now." She yanked the strand out at the root with a wince, handing it to me. All doubts vanished - not even a millimetre of natural brown at the root.

"Wicked."

She smiled slightly. "Disturbing and odd... but no, I suppose it's not that worst thing in the world. I probably would've continued dyeing it well into my thirties, anyway."

From a distance, I heard a laugh escape my throat. "Peas in a pod."

"What's that?"

"Mine, too." I tugged at my white forelock. "I've had this colourless patch in the front for as long as I can remember."

Her head cocked to the side. "Oh yeah... I'd forgotten."

"Yeah... what?" I looked up at her. "Wait, how'd you know about that?"

"You've told me before, haven't you?"

"No... no, I don't think so."

"Yes you did, you said it was be- because..." Hazel eyes dropped to the tile as she trailed off. Several seconds crept by.

"Risty?"

"G'night." The look on her face as she pushed past me burned into my mind. Why was she so upset about something like hair?

As I squeezed toothpaste onto my brush, my brain caught up. Obviously, Mystique had all the files on us X-Men; she probably knew why my bangs weren't auburn like the rest of my hair, and therefore, so did Risty. She was probably just tired of knowing things she shouldn't, and missing things she should.

There was nothing I could do but get on with my bedtime rituals. I wanted to chase after her and do something to help, but what? Besides, I felt like I'd been doing so much of that lately that she was probably getting sick of me sticking my nose in. I'd talk to her in the morning.

••••••••••••••••••LAZ••••••••••••••••••

A key turning in a lock.

The noise wasn't terribly evident to me; personally, I'd never found any reason for remembering and recognizing it. However, the damnable harlot's life had been full of suspicion and paranoia. I realized the sound was close enough to be from my own bedroom door; that put me on full alert, and I snaked one hand under my pillow. Really, I suppose it was a good thing that the upsetting turn in my bathroom conversation had made sleep a fantasy for me that night.

The dim moonlight from my window outlined a figure - possibly a woman, from the curve of the hips and hair length. Making sure my eyes were open the barest amount, so as to maintain the illusion of slumber, I forced my breathing to remain slow and heavy. When the figure moved to my bedside, I caught the glint of steel in the moon. The hand under my pillow tensed.

An instant before the blade pierced my racing heart, the hand still lying on my stomach grasped her wrist as I lunged forward, the kunai I'd been clutching for insurance snaking for her throat.

The two of us landed on the floor, and I saw the face of my best friend.

"No," I squeaked in horror.

"I hate you," she hissed. "You gotta go."

"NO!"

Sensing my guard crumbling, she kicked me to the other side of my chambers and leapt to her feet. In one swift motion, her knife flew, sought my chest.

Initial shock had faded enough to allow instinct to save my life. Rolling to the side, I was standing again, suddenly finding I had the upperhand; my enemy was unarmed.

"What are you doing?" I screamed.

"You gotta die, Risty! You're stealing all my friends from me! I hate your freaking guts!"

I could do nothing. Words wouldn't come. Bloody Miss Raven's inbred combat skills told me I should feint left, then spin and plunge the kunai into her ribcage, but I couldn't; it was Rogue. Scrambling to make a difference, I sent a potent wave of empathic fear and uneasiness at my former best friend. Maybe I could get her to give up...

Her reaction only lasted for a split second; Rogue stiffened, glanced over her shoulder, then glared at me again, anger renewed and amplified.

My enemy's lapse in concentration was all I'd needed.

"Why, hello," I spoke in a low voice, grinning darkly. "Miss me that much, luv? It has been ever so long since we last... shared our thoughts."

Rogue's eyes were green... not yellow.

••••••••••••••••••ROGUE••••••••••••••••••

I was out of bed the moment as I heard the scream. Kitty sat upright as I flew across the room and threw open the door; it barely registered that she came running on my heels.

Another scream. "Risty!" Barely able to hold my emotions in check, I fought the urge to run to her long enough to turn to the wall beside me, flip aside the dummy thermostat and punch a button triggering the alarm. Doors flew open all around me as I closed the distance to Risty's room, confused students looking around frantically. A few steps from my destination, I heard glass shattering.

'Dear God,' I thought, 'what's going on?'

The first thing I noticed from the open doorway was the broken window. After that, droplets of murky liquid on the carpet.

"Holy shit," Kitty whispered, hands over her mouth.

"No," I breathed. We were too late; Risty was wounded, out the window, gone. Had the demons in her head finally caught up to her?

Then she stepped out from behind the door, and my heart jumped into my larynx. Alive. One of her sleeves was ripped, and one hand was grasping a knife, quietly dripping the same dark liquid. "Rogue..."

More details presented themselves. Sheets strewn everywhere. Another knife embedded in the wall. A rip in the pillow, spilling feathers onto the floor. Sweat mixing with tears on her cheeks.

"Wh-what happened?" I croaked. "Are... are you okay?"

Her answer was to drop the blade and grab me, squeezing so tight I thought my spine would snap, weeping freely on my shoulder.

Scott and Ororo looked the room over. Evan, Kurt and Beast did a sweep of the grounds. Unable to get Risty to do anything but hold onto me and sob, Jean was reluctantly persuaded by the others to probe her mind. When she did, Jean started crying, too. It took a while, but she related the story mentally to us one at a time, not wanting to repeat it aloud in front of Risty.

"Good gracious," Xavier gasped, arriving at last. "I had hoped I'd misheard Jean's thoughts."

"Where've you been?" Ororo asked, an edge of concern in her voice. "You weren't attacked as well?"

"No," he said, frustration flashing across his features. "I was having some trouble with my wheelchair. But nevermind that, now." He rolled over to us quickly. "Are you going to be alright?"

When Risty didn't answer within a few more seconds, he sighed and nodded solemnly, his gaze moving to me. "Take her to the spare bedroom at the end of your hallway. It is unlikely that she'll sleep tonight, but..."

"Yeah." I gently pulled at her shoulder. Understandably, she picked up her kunai before allowing me to guide her through the halls.

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••

"Here we are," I said brightly. "Home sweet temporary home."

The room was pretty much like all the other rooms were before they had tenants: two beds with featureless blue sheets, fine oak dressers and end tables, some painting of fruit hanging on a wall, a closet. I moved Risty to a bed and she sat down, dropping the knife onto the nightstand.

"I... I know what happened," I began uneasily. What a horrible experience - and that hussy had the nerve to impersonate me! No wonder the poor girl was in shock. "But... she's gone, you drove her off! So, listen... try to get some sleep, okay? It'll be fine, now. I'm a few doors down if you need me."

I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to leave. A hand clamped on my wrist.

"Don't go," she whispered.

She didn't need to say anymore; nobody would want to be alone after something like that. When I moved toward the other bed, she stopped me again.

"Please?"

I frowned at the rivulets still flowing down her cheeks. "It's only a couple of feet, Risty. I promise I'm not gonna get up in the middle of the-"

"I need you near me, please... just for tonight. While I know you're- I f-feel so- I-"

"Shh." The bleakness and humiliation in her voice was killing me; she didn't want to be a burden, but if I left her now, she couldn't be sure it was really me next time. Mystique couldn't end my best friend's life, so she was trying to taint anything she cared about; I wouldn't let that happen. "I'm not going anywhere."

The first few minutes were a period of adjustment; those beds aren't made to hold two people. Limbs kept getting in the way, and when Risty's elbow ended up in my armpit, we both laughed. Eventually, we settled into a fairly comfortable position, and soon Risty was sound asleep, cheeks still damp and breathing slightly troubled. Though I thought it was impossible after such a horrific night, I'd almost drifted off myself when she rolled over and snuggled against me.

For a moment, I didn't know what to do. Was this weird? I'd never really done the whole slumber party thing - for the health and safety of others. When I tried to ease her head back onto the pillow, her grip tightened, and a small, plaintive cry issued from her throat. Maybe I was a pushover, but after that, I hugged back.

Why did I feel so guilty? Because I enjoyed the closeness? Because it was a byproduct of my best friend's misery? Despite the guilt, I did enjoy it. I'd never been able to embrace anyone without being careful - making sure no patches of skin touched - and usually anyone who let me hug them at all was quick to let go. I'd never felt the steady pulsating of someone else's heart so close to mine, or a warm, soft cheek on my collarbone. It was scary admitting it, and I felt like I was taking advantage... but it was my deepest, most desperate dream come true.

"I know you didn't do it on purpose," I whispered, stroking her hair and trying not to cry, "but this is the best gift anyone's ever given me."

••••••••••••••••••X••••••••••••••••••
END CH X

[3/22/2011: Edited, and still beautiful.]