Chapter 9 – Touch Me

He was floating on his back. His splayed wings must provide additional buoyancy, she figured. Angela rolled off the boat into the water. Paddling with one arm and towing a life-vest in the other, she swam alongside his lean, muscular form. He certainly looked like he fell from heaven. What was he doing here and why had he fallen? He was breathing, she was relieved to discover, but it sounded shallow and labored. She lifted his head and placed the life-vest around his neck. As she deftly tied the rope affixed to the stern around his waist and the part of his back where his wings jutted out from his clothing, she longed to let her movements linger into caresses.

After being towed the short distance back to the landing, the angel-man appeared to be stable. Angela pulled up under his arms to lift him onto the wooden platform. His eyelids twitched. He awoke.

"It's all right," she said, leaning over him.

He got up on his elbows and started to raise himself. Angela backed away as he unfurled his wings to their full extent. The alarmed expression on his face betrayed his fear.

His voice sounded shaky, "Where is this?.." He staggered.

Preston rushed over and steadied him. He leaned into her as she led him to the vacant cottage next to the one she shared with Toby. Most years the house would have been rented, but this summer fewer people had come to Devil's Lake. Finding it unlocked, she helped the limping, half-conscious Angel inside. After guiding him to the larger of the two beds, she watched him lie down. His outstretched wings exceeded the edges of the mattress; the tips brushed up against the walls of the room.

She didn't sleep during the remaining three hours that elapsed before her husband awoke. Instead Angela took a shower, changed her clothes, and made coffee. Toby was pleasantly surprised.

Studying Jean's face, Rogue noticed her eyes had changed. Golden sparks spiraled inside her irises, glittering like fireworks.

"I can't stop thinking about him," said Grey, drawing closer.

"I know how you feel," Rogue stated honestly. She was becoming disoriented. She saw herself standing outside the Gazebo, on the edge of the cliff, staring at…Jean. The words 'psychic feedback' rose to the surface of her spinning mind as she recalled their past telepathic encounters. She felt her feet leave the ground. Was she perceiving Grey's weightlessness or was Jean suspending her?

"You should leave me alone." Jean wasn't shouting, but in Rogue's ears her voice echoed throughout the reservoir valley.

"It's too late for that," Rogue replied, dangling in mid-air.

Why do you want to help me? Jean asked. The churning sparks had grown into whirlpools of fire.

"You helped save all of us." Rogue tried to stabilize herself.

As did you.

"Well, that is what we're supposed to do. I can handle it, Jean. Talk to me."

Okay…

Rogue was transported. Floating high above the terrace, she beheld distant mountains of cottony clouds set against a gleaming blue sky. Following the arc of the afternoon sun, she saw something. At first she could barely distinguish him from the brilliant background, but as he flew towards her his iconic form made her heart skip a beat. In moments he was with her, sailing on the wind, matching every subtle shift in her aerial position. He would do anything for her… A switch was thrown within Rogue's chest. It ignited a crackling current, which throbbed in her throat and pulsed between her thighs.

"Oh, god," she moaned.

As Warren took her into his arms she could smell his flesh was on fire. She was ablaze but he wouldn't let go.

"Warren! Stop! Don't touch me!" Rogue cried, pushing away a non-existent, burning Angel. Sensing Rogue's anguish, Jean instantly cut-off their connection. Rogue dropped to the ground.

She got up a moment later and brushed the dirt off the black synthetic material of her pants. "Give me a little warning next time, so I don't fall on my ass, all right?"

Jean was surprised by her rapid recovery.

"Jean, you aren't the first mutant to be scared to touch someone."

He'll burn…

"Maybe you're just seeing what you're afraid of. You've never burned anybody," Rogue removed one of the gloves that protected those around her from the potentially deadly results of contact with her skin and held her right hand out to Jean Grey. "Why don't we try it? Touch me."