Author's Note: I dedicated this chapter to all the reviewers who demand I get my act together and starting driving out chapters at a faster rate. LOL! Enjoy.
Chapter X
Rogue's POV:
"Are you sure you don't want something to drink?" Mystique inquired, lithely prancing towards the mini bar to pull out a small bottle of vodka to add to her orange juice.
"Stop beating around the bush," I replied in a cold, clipped, tone. "I want answers."
"Such a temper," she closed the tiny fridge and tossed me a grin. "You certainly didn't get it from me."
"Thank heavens for small favors." I marked her fluid steps to the couch, becoming increasingly irate by her laid-back manner and casual smiles that twisted my insides. I quite literally wanted to slap her. I was reeling over the image of the scanned document of my birth certificate. Raven Darkholme was emboldened in thick, black letters, identifying her as the mother. The father was unknown. Other records, such as my adoption papers, medical files appeared on the screen. She was right about Magneto; he'd kept me under surveillance, the both of us actually. He have must confirmed his suspicions when he usurp a sample of our DNA. That was what upset me the most. Mystique wasn't lying; she was, indeed, my mother. I tried to reject what was so plainly clear. The documents, everything, could've been fakes. It had to be, but doubt tortured. "I don't have all day Mystique. I want answers."
She glanced in my direction and flashed a devious smile. "We all want something don't we?"
"Will you cut the shit?" I cried. "You violate my personal life then you drop this bomb by saying you're my mother! What the hell do you want?"
Her shoulders rose and fell as she shrugged. "I don't know, perhaps a hug, tears of joy maybe?"
"You're impossible!"
Mystique lifted the glass holding the alluring mixture of orange juice and vodka and sipped. "Erik always thought so."
"Tell me about my real father." I demanded.
Her yellow eyes glowed menacingly. "You're in no position to order me around, besides, he was no one special. Just a military Colonel Erik had me seduced in order to gain security clearance on his base." She traced over me quickly and scoffed. "You're just a by product of a one night stand. I'm not even sure if he even was your father."
"You bitch!" I spat, seething with rage, and spun around to charge out of room. I could hear her cackling laughter even as I stormed out of the hotel and into the crisp afternoon. My breath fogged the air due to the agonized release of oxygen that squeezed out my lungs. I felt heat rise in my face; undesired tears welled beneath my lashes, and slipped in frozen rivers down my face. I tugged my jacket open, desperate for the frosty winds to quench the pathetic whimpers threatening to transform me into a blubbering fool.
I wouldn't cry. Not for her. So I was a bastard. Dozens more were born every day, nevertheless, it shattered the last scenic link to a house down in Mississippi, and an adoring family I once called my own. In the maddening frustration, I became unglued. A creeping pain, trivial at first, gradually increased and honed in the right side of my head. I touched my temple with the tips of my fingers moaning. I cloudy haze enveloped my vision. The pain swelled and I cried out in anguish. I couldn't see where I was going. Driven by the throbbing misery in my brain, my foot stepped off the curb. Screams came before the impact of metal and I was thrown into the air.
I revived to the circle of faces hovering above me. I started to move but was informed to remain still. I heard the scrap of metal and the crunch of glass. I shifted slightly to see I had crashed into a phone booth. It stood limply and greatly dismembered.
"Is she alright?"
"I don't know." I looked in the direction of the voice and saw a man of middle age working on me. He must have been a doctor from the way his hands expertly moved. "Are you in any pain miss?"
I bit my lips and shook my head side to side. There was no pain, no immeasurable agony someone would endure after being hit by a bus. Through the legs of people crowding, I saw steam rise from the engine of the public transportation vehicle. I saw a massive dent and shattered windows. People were being escorted out.
"Baby," someone said. "The Lord was watchin' over you today."
My eyes became the size of golf balls. Baby! I surged to my feet, astounding the crowd, but they were the least of my worries. I dropped my eyes to my stomach and clamped a hand on the flat mound. My baby? Jesus, I was hit by a bus! Was it okay? Frantic, I shoved through the crowd desperate to get home.
"Where you goin' sweetie?"
I caught my breath horrified by the sight of a tall young man in my path. His tattered clothes hung loosely on his skinny frame. A tattoo was etched on his right arm. His blond hair fell about his shoulders in wild tresses. His friends were equally attired and bore the same painted image on their skin. The symbols were indistinct except for a bright red letter F jumping out at me.
"None of your business," I replied and tried to push onward.
"We saw what happened," he scoffed. "No one walks away from an accident without a mark to show for it."
"I guess I'm just lucky," I stepped to right, he measured my movements.
"Lucky my ass," he sneered, his eyes blackening. He took a step to me. "We know what you are."
I wasn't so much as intimated but aggravated. It never changes does it. I clenched my fist, sniffing out two of his flunkies who'd fallen behind me. Despite the phenomenal alterations I was undergoing, Logan's acute senses were permanently lodged in my mind for a strange reason, and his fight mode instantly clicked on in my head.
The overbearing leader of this diminutive band regarded me with disgust. I registered him with the same intensity. "We have a Cure for freaks like you."
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," I scoffed. "But that little miracle from Worthington—" I was grabbed from behind. It was a momentary shock before Logan's reflexive abilities surged me into action. I slammed my head back into his face and dropped low to kick the legs out the second to my life.
"Mutant whore!"
There was a flash of metal. I dodged a blade, swirling round to intercept an arm, knocking the weapon cleanly out of the hand of my assailant. I then heaved hard and sent into crashing into a boutique store. People came scrambling out. I stood stunned by what had just occurred before scraping through a host of bodies. I ran. It was a long time before I stopped.
------------------------------------------
Bobby's POV:
Rogue had returned.
She was gone so long I didn't think she would come home. But she had. I spotted her walking with heavy steps up the pathway towards the mansion. She looked pretty upset, whether with me, I wasn't sure. Who was kidding? She hated me. She despised everything there was about me. She regarded me as a leper and had no contact. She didn't even throw a 'hello' my direction when she passed by me.
The day she came back to the mansion, I leaned on the hope our love would rekindle. Only it had been snuffed out by a flame thrower. Anger seized me, an unparallel rage boiled in my veins. I was pleased John had reenacted his famous retreat and left the mansion. Yet I was devastated by the news he'd left a friendly parting gift. It chocked me to death to see her, knowing she was carrying his baby. A baby that should have been mine!
I observed as she disappeared inside the mansion and exited my room. I walked to the landing and stood close to the stairs listening. She hollered for Ms. Munroe who came rushing to her. I listened. Accident, mutant-haters, was all I was able to gain from their conversations. Footsteps bounded. I heard the hiss of a hatch and knew they were going to the lower levels. An accident? What happened? Was she alright? What about the baby? I tried to fight a gruesome relief that swirled darkly in my brain. A sick hope that a terrible mishap had befallen the baby.
"Bobby?" Startled, I threw my eyes behind my shoulders to see Kitty standing just feet from me. I tried to curb my annoyance. She'd been hanging on my heels lately, never giving me a moment's peace.
"Yeah Kitty?"
She tucked a wayward chestnut strand behind her ears. "Um," she began nervously. "A couple of us rented Transformers and ordered some pizza." She shifted her footing. "Would you—uh—care to join us?"
"Nah." I let out a hard exhale and saw the expectation melt off her face. "Uh, maybe later, something happened to Rogue. I better see if she's okay."
She looked crushed, but she simply lowered her eyes and nodded. "Okay, we'll save you a slice." She hurried away and I stood there basking in the guilt consuming me. I knew she liked me. A lot. But I just couldn't bring myself to return the feelings she felt most desperately. I still was in love with Rogue. I couldn't shake her. I would be wrong to toy with Kitty's emotions when I knew I didn't hold the same cards she did. Sighing, I trudged down the stairs, determined to find out what was going on with Rogue.
"Where the hell you think you're goin'?" Logan came swaggering towards me, a beer bottle hidden discreetly in his hand.
"Rogue was in an accident."
The large, hairy mutant literally dropped the bottle. Dark fluid spilled. "Why the fuck didn't you say so?" He nearly kicked me out of the way and stepped onto the elevator, I followed and pretty soon we were both bursting into the infirmary.
"Oh hell, get out!" Marie screamed, shielding herself with her hands. Apparently, she wasn't in the mood for visitors. She was lying on the metal table, her pants down and sweater pulled just below her breast. The sight of her soft creamy skin was quite alarming. Ms. Munroe was doing her best to work the ultrasound machine. She whirled around and gave us a disgruntled look. She took a blanket and flung it across Rogue.
"Heard you were in an accident," Logan said walking to her.
"She's fine," Ororo said. "Luckily her new powers saved her."
"My baby," Rogue said, her face red as well as her eyes. Obviously, she'd been crying.
Ororo's eyes grew sad. "I don't know Rogue," she said. "I'm not a doctor, I don't know what I'm seeing."
"Was there a heart beat?"
"I don't know and don't know which button to push for us to listen. I'll telephone Hank. I know he'll be here in the morning."
"No," Rogue cried, scurrying to sit. "I need to know if my baby's alright now!"
Logan put his hand on her shoulder. "Easy Rogue. It's gonna be okay."
"It's not going to be okay! Nobody wanted me to have this baby, so don't act like you all care!" She heaved off the table, dragging her pants up as she ran for the door.
"Where are you going?" Logan said after a few minutes.
I paused. "I'm going to check to see if she's okay."
"Leave her alone for now Bobby," Ororo said quietly.
"Yeah," Logan barked. "Lately, you're the one person she's wants to look at." He took a step to me. "I wonder why that is anyway."
I drew back, timidly; anxious by his perusal to the break in Rogue's and mine's friendship and bruised by his harsh words. I suppressed the anger that roused and stormed out of the infirmary to her room. He was right. She didn't even speak to the door when I knocked and asked to come in.
"Not now," Jubilee informed, standing in the slightly opened door. "She has enough problems on her plate." She slammed the door in my face. I clawed my hand through my hair and sighed heavily. There was nothing else to do but take Kitty up on that slice of pizza.
------------------------------------------
Hank's POV:
Three a.m.
I understood becoming a secretary to the President came with liberties including a private jet. Yet I never imagined I would be heading to Westchester, New York at such an ungodly hour. However, Ororo's commuincae did sound most desperate, particularly where Rogue was concerned. Hearing her voice was quite startling, triggering old wounds, I for the past few weeks tried to blot. I hadn't completely recovered from the realization that we would be nothing more than companions. It was rather difficult to see she had moved on with the likes of that Wolverine character.
All the same, I had to put aside my feelings, and act in the best interest of young girl bawling her eyes out at this very hour. Ororo informed me about the calamity that had befallen Rogue and the girl was most pressing. She refused to be comforted until she knew her baby was alive and in good health. Driven to a private air field, I found myself sprawled on several seats inside the jet, trying my ever best to reclaim some sleep till we landed in New York. Shaken awake, I howled and stretched and ducked into a black limo. I arrived at the mansion just as the sun rose and was greeted by none other that Ororo.
"Thank you for coming at such short notice Hank," she said quite relieved.
"Not a problem," I replied, yawning, fixing my glasses. "She was in an accident you say."
"Her powers must have triggered. She claimed to have a head and unknowingly walked off the curb and into the path of an oncoming bus."
"Good lord," I cried.
Ororo nodded.
The pair reached the lower levels and walked into the infirmary. Jubilee and Kitty were trying to appeal to Rogue with little success "Thank God," Rogue sniffed, turning her face to the parting silver doors to see a blue furred mutant enter. "Dr. McCoy, please tell me everything is alright with my baby."
I shrugged out my coat and exchanged it for a white lab one. "Of course Rogue," I coaxed. "Just relax and lie back."
She lay down, exhaling, wiping tears from her eyes. I shifted the sheet and night gown, keeping her modestly covered. I switched on the machine, poured gel on her stomach. She flinched at the cold feel. I stared earnestly at the screen, manipulating the transducer across her stomach. Rogue kept her eyes pinned on images projected on the screen.
"Anything," she pleaded, clutching Kitty's hand.
"Yes," I pushed a button and a humming sound filled the room. I smiled down at the young girl, who was completely awed by the sound. "Can you hear it?"
"Is—is that—" Rogue gasped.
"Yes, it's the baby's heart beat."
"Oh," she cried in joy. "It's okay then right?"
"Absolutely," I smiled, thrilled to see the tension and fear that had eclipsed her face fade.
"Thank you." She sighed, easing to sleep.
"She didn't sleep all night," Kitty explained, patting her hand.
"Quite understandable," I said, cleaning her and placing the items away. "But she must take it easy for the sake of the baby." I turned to Ororo. "Any word from the father?" She shook her head. "These young men nowadays are starting to vex me." I took off the jacket and picked up my own coat. "I need to speak with you."
"What's wrong?" Ororo asked, once they were out of ear shot.
"It's the baby."
She grew solemn. "Something is wrong isn't there, and you didn't want to al—"
"No," he said, easing her woes. "The baby is fine, but, it's much larger than a normal fetus around two to three months."
"What?"
"Ororo, I believe Rogue's changes are causing the baby to grow at an alarming rate."
"She did look larger this morning," she cried. "I thought it was just her night gown."
"She might be expected to give birth within five to six months."
"Goodness," Ororo gasped.
"I'm not sure how this will affect Rogue," Hank said grimly, "I'll ask for a leave of absence and move in here so that I can properly monitor her."
"We would be glad to have you." Ororo touched his arm then moved it slowly. She hadn't forgotten what he said to her. He was in love with her, which only seemed to complicate things. She raised her eyes to meet his stern countenance. "That's only part of the reason why you're here is it?"
"Yes," I said. "It's about the Cure."
------------------------------------------
Pyro's POV:
Newspapers. Internet. Television.
Wherever I looked it was the same boisterous avocation. The cure was not permanent. Most mutants rejoiced. Others were dumbfounded and lost in hopelessness. Protestors, once again, took to the streets; fueled by a new radical movement calling themselves FOH or Friends of Humanity. At first, the undisclosed organization was too obscure for anyone to notice, but they're abhorrent dislike for mutants swiftly attracted members. Like a fuse, they exploded; savagely launching assaults on unsuspecting mutant communities, becoming increasingly violent in their demonstrations, and torching businesses that welcomed mutants.
Mayhem and chaos spilled into the streets. Turf wars erupted in neighborhoods. Innocent by standers, naturally, were caught in the crossfire. It was all happening just as Magneto predicted. The war had begun. Curiosity, led me to a secret website encrypted to shield outsiders from its true contents. Those who'd once joined forces with the Brotherhood were calling. Some were terrified and were seeking aid. Some demanded to know whether the rumor Magneto was dead was true. I wanted to respond but logged out.
Admitting he was alive would certify me in the role as his henchman, and I wasn't ready to reclaim that position. I pushed out of the chair and walked about the tiny room above the bookstore. I was strange being here. It was so unlike Magneto's fortress not far off the coast of Maine. This was the home of a simple man with simple. And yet, there was nothing simple about Magneto. I took note of a pile blankets across from the fire place. It was there I slept. I grimaced, founding the position similar to that of dog. I yanked the bed coverings off the wood floor and tossed them to the side. If I had played my hand right, I could be curled up in bed with Marie. Instead, I was here, a degenerate loser camping on the floor of a miserly old fugitive.
Glorious.
I went downstairs looking for something to eat and opened the fridge. Kosher. I made a face. For a man who seemed to break every Commandment certainly kept with traditions. I grabbed a bottled of water. Magneto was fussy about people touching his food. It didn't sway me. I wasn't too keen on Kosher. Leaning against the sink, I popped the top and downed half the bottle. My eyes soon glued to an out dated telephone. I thought about Marie. I wondered how she was holding up. It had been weeks since I ditched the mansion. Had she given up on us? I went to the stand in the corner and picked up the phone. Unconsciously, I dialed a number, and gripped the receiver. My palms started to sweat; the droning sound resembled a death toll.
"Xavier's School for Gifted Children. May I help you?"
Marie!
I didn't think she'd answer the phone. I was expecting Ms. Munroe or Logan or some other reject. My heart hammered my ribs to death.
"Hello? Is someone there?"
I wanted to respond but my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth. I caught my breath when she finally spoke my name.
"John?" she whispered. "Is that you?"
I hung up. Too ashamed to speak and too guilt-ridden. What was I to say after such and extensive amount of time? What would she say? I mopped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and started to walk towards the stairs.
The phone rang.
I swung around alarmed. She must have retraced the number. I stood rock solid, listening as the blaring noise filled the bookstore. I started panicking. Magneto would return soon from wherever he'd ventured and demand to know why the phone was ringing.
It was a problem why?
His phone never rang. No one knew he was here and that's the way he wanted it. I plucked the receiver up quickly and held it to my face.
"John," Marie pleaded. "Please, talk to me. Tell me it's you?"
I couldn't bear the agony in her voice. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. "Yeah," I answered. "It's me." My mouth curled into a smile at the sigh of her relief.
"Where are you?"
"Not far," I lied. "I—I had to get out of there Marie. I—"
"I don't care about what happened. John, come home."
I raked my fingers through my hair. "It's better this way Marie. Nobody wants me there."
"That's not true." She said. "I want you."
I swallowed hard, fighting the feelings she alone managed to stir in me. "I—I can't. You deserve someone better than me."
"Don't say that," she cried. "You're everything to me. Please...come home."
"Why?"
"Because," she sniffed and I squeezed the phone tighter. "I love you."
I closed my eyes. She had skipped the loose tactics and went for the throat. "Marie—" I croaked.
"John," she interrupted. "There's something I want to tell you, but no over the phone. I want to do it face to face."
"If it's not a strong enough reason to drag me back to mansion, don't bother telling me."
Her silence troubled. It was as if she were deciding whether or not she was going to reveal what lay on her heart. "John."
"Yeah."
"I'm pregnant."