Chapter 25 Who Am I ? Not Me

-Year and a half ago from the future time Continued-

Rogue had been on her bed staring lazily and almost languishingly at the ceiling, Logan's dog tags were in her right hand that were clenched into a fist.

Someone had knocked on her door and then said her name. For a minute she had thought it had been Logan calling her. By her real name. Marie.

But she knew that was impossible. Logan was gone. He had just gone to Canada, As soon as he had gotten well from their statue of Liberty Incident he was anxious even more to find out about his past. They Professor had supplied him with info which would lead him to Alkali Lake.

She told him she didn't want him to leave.

His response. The dog tags.

But they did bring her comfort, she knew after all that he would be back for them.

Her name was repeated again, the name she usually called herself, and believed herself to be, especially when she was in the mood like she found herself now in. Their was another knock on her door.

"Rogue?"

"Go away!" she said, not wanting to be disturbed. Not caring who it was. Of course it could be one of her new roommates, Kitty or Jubilee. But sitting up on her bed she realized that she was in her own room, the one she would receive years later. The one she had learned to love so dearly. The one she had to leave behind.

Then why did she have Logan's tags? And why did she feel she was supposed to be younger? At least 17? Wasn't she at least 20 or 25 or? Why didn't she know her own age?

Getting off the bed, putting the tags away in her pocket, she stopped in front of the door.

"Who is it?"

"Jean."

That didn't seem right. But Rogue couldn't figure out why.

She put her hand on the doorknob about to turn it when she took in that the door was covered in locks. About 10 of them. She didn't remember having so many.

"Are you going to let me in?"

For some reason she didn't want to. She knew she liked her privacy. But it was only Jean so what could the harm be?

She unlocked the locks slowly, almost hesitantly. Still unsure as to why she was so wary.

Finally she was done, reaching for the door knob once again she twisted it, and pulled. The door resisted at first and then gave way to the pressure she was applying.

"Is everything OK Rogue?" Jean asked who was standing out in the hallway, her clothes immaculate as usual, her demeanor one of calm and self confidence.

"Why do you ask?" Rogue scrunched her eyebrows.

"You took forever to answer, let alone open the door," Jean looked past Rogue checking if there was anybody else in the room with her. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Uh, sure." she scooted to the side and allowed Jean to enter.

Jean walked in past her and sat down on the bed. She patted the area next to her. Wanting Rogue to join her.

Rogue turned around and started to close the door.

"You can leave it open Rogue, I won't stay long." Jeans voice was full of sudden urgency that Rogue couldn't comprehend.

She left the door open and joined Jean on the bed. Sitting at a safe distance so that they wouldn't accidentally touch.

Jean gave her a soft smile. Rogue didn't return it.

She wasn't in the best of moods. And she wasn't one to indulge others just to make them feel better.

Again she felt something was off. She had been looking into Jeans very green eyes when suddenly they started to change to very bright blue ones.

Rogue slowly blinked. When she was done Jeans eyes were again her normal emerald hue.

This isn't Jean. Rogue decided. At least I don't think it is.

Jean started to speak softly.

"So how have you been lately Rogue, are you settling in OK?"

That questions brought flashes of memory into her head. Ones that she had somehow momentarily forgot. Rogue suddenly knew she had had this conversation already. In the past. Many Years ago, days after Logan had left for the Lake.

This just isn't right. Everything is off. This isn't my room, this isn't the present. And that isn't Jean. Jean is dead and has been for a long time! Her thoughts came with a flash of sudden clarity.

Rogue got up off the bed and stood in front of Jean. She then gave her a questioning look. One that demanded answers.

"Who are you?"

Jean looked up at Rogue. Confused, surprised and then with what looked like respect.

Then Jean changed.

Her bright red hair that had been in a ponytail, suddenly turned black and then became shorter and shorter until the only free flowing hair were bangs that covered her forehead.

Her eyes turned blue, her skin became more pale, her lips fuller and her body thinner.

Then her clothes changed.

Into a prisoners uniform, it was in better shape than she had ever seen one, and when Rogue's eyes made there way to the woman's arm, she saw the familiar markings of numbers engraved into her skin. Ones she also possessed.

"What is going on?" Rogue asked harshly.

"Don't you know?"

"Would I be asking if I did?" Rogue asserted.

The woman frowned slightly, got off the bed and approached Rogue.

Rogue stepped back and away from her.

They stood there for several seconds each looking the other over.

Finally the woman spoke.

"We are in your mind Rogue, this is the place you retreat to in your head when things get to rough for you... to difficult to handle."

Rogue shook her head no. "But this seems so real!"

The dark haired woman smiled softly at her. "I know, but it isn't."

"If this is my mind how were you able to get in?" Rogue questioned her, knowing Xavier had spent many a day helping her build defenses in her mind that would keep telepathic intruders out.

"You let me in... I am a pretty powerful telepath, but even I wouldn't have been able to get past the defenses in your mind if you didn't allow me to."

"So that is why you wanted me to leave the door open? You were afraid you were going to get trapped?"

"Something like that."

Rogue stared more directly into the woman's face. She saw for the first time that she was quite pretty, even with what look to be premature wrinkles under her watchful eyes, her age probably around 30-35.

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

Rogue watched as she took a couple steps back and sat back down on Rogue's bed.

"I'm here to help you."

"Why?"

"Because they want to keep you strong." the woman said sadness making it ways into her voice

"So you work for them?" Rogue questioned, her voice flowing with sudden rancor. She stayed standing in the same spot.

The woman became angry at that suggestion.

"I didn't want to!" she said tersely. "But I was talked into it," her anger faded as she was suddenly lost in a more favorable memory. "By someone I believe you know."

"Who?" Rogue asked her sudden desire to know impelling her to walk a little closer to the woman.

"Charles Xavier."

"He's alive? Rogue gasped, now shocked, her breathing becoming more pronounced.

The woman smiled softly. Then nodded her head.

"Yes, and thanks to him so am I." the woman turned her head away to the side away from her. A flood of emotions went through her features mostly that of sadness and grief, but she quickly recovered when she saw Rogue watching her, she started approached her cautiously.

"We really do need to talk."

"About what?" Rogue asked defensively.

"About this," the woman said while sweeping her hands around the room "About what has happened to bring you here... About Adam."

Rogue felt the blood rush out of her face and she felt sick to her stomach. Everything coming back to her so quickly and fiercely that she started to panic.

"Why would I want to talk that over with you! I don't know you!" Rogue grated. Her voice loud and angry. "Leave me alone!"

She then took off running, out the door, into the corridor. Away from her room, away from the truth, away from the woman.

"Rogue wait!" she heard the woman call after her. But she didn't stop. Didn't look behind her. Just ran.

It didn't take her long to make her way outside, to the backyard. She sat down roughly on her favorite bench. She knew she was crying but didn't care.

I Killed someone.

The agony of what she had done shook her to the core. Tore her apart. Making her wish she was the one that had died. If only so that she didn't have to think her thoughts.

To feel her guilt. To remember his name. Adam.

She heard someone approach her from behind. She didn't bother to turn around.

"My name is Angela, before the mutant registration act was passed I was a full time mother of a 2-year old daughter, married to a wonderful man," her voice was soft, the words obviously causing her pain. "They were my world. My everything. But that changed. When the registration bill was passed. My husband urged me to go away with him, not register as a mutant. But I was naive. Two weeks later they came for me. My husband was killed right in front on me, my daughter taken. My grief and anger clouding my senses and allowing them to take advantage of it by placing a suppression collar on me. Not long after I was forced into a camp. A camp for telepaths. They wanted to use my powers to scan their soldiers to check their loyalty, scan mutants to gain secrets. But I refused. So they beat me. Threatened me. At one point they nearly killed me. Then I met Xavier," her voice became a little more hopeful, a little less strained. "He brought hope back into my life and helped me find a reason to live. He helped me realize that I could "Work" for them without actually doing anything for them. He told me that I would be traveling with them and that I could gain knowledge as to who was alive, bring and take messages to family and friends. Pass on the hope that Xavier had given me. And now here I am, trying to help you. Because I want you to be strong, not for them so they can do more tests on you or inflict even more pain on you, but for you... So you realize that you are a stronger person than you give yourself credit for and that you can endure anything they dish out at you. That you are more that a conqueror. ...That you will survive."

Angela had come closer and closer to Rogue while she was talking. She was now right behind Rogue, her hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

Surprising herself Rogue didn't pull away. And didn't move when Angela came and sat down next to her. She realized then that she trusted Angela, could feel her intentions toward her, and knew they were good, knew she wasn't trying to deceive her or play some sort of demented game with her.

Trust didn't come often for her, especially not of late, and definitely not with someone she barely knew. So when she realized that was what she felt, she decided she would also trust herself. And hope it didn't lead her down the wrong path.

Rogue turned her head toward her. Then lowered it. Staring at the grass.

"I don't deserve t'be alive!" Rogue blurted out, her words lined with anguish. "I killed him... I Killed Adam!"

"That wasn't you Rogue, that was them, they made you do that!" Angela demanded.

"That may be true, but it doesn't take away the fact that someone is dead because of me."

They stood there in silence for a couple of long minutes.

Angela broke the quiet that had enveloped them.

"You can't stay here forever you know, you have to face him. Adam is a part of you now, and always will be."

"I know,... I'm just scared."

"It's OK to be afraid Rogue, nobody is fearless," Angela shifted slightly, then looked at Rogue with obvious regret at what she was about to say. "I think it is time we went back to reality."

"I don't under..."

And then everything faded, the grass, the trees even the smells and the sounds. All were gone.

Rogue was back in what she had named recovery room. A white padded cell that had two way mirrors for her tormentors to watch her through, the one they placed her in after every absorption.

She was in the corner. Her hands holding her head. Angela was sitting directly in front of her, eyes closed, small beads of sweat lining her forehead.

She felt the telepathic link between them dissipate, and watched as Angela slowly opened her eyes.

"How long has it been?" Rogue asked in a whisper.

Angela seemed to understand what she was saying.

"He died five hours ago, and I have been trying to help you for the past two." Angela frowned and then looked at Rogue almost curiously.

"It seems that you have pretty much learned how to deal with absorbing people, how to quite them and "Turn them off" how to regain control... How to become you again."

Rogue realized that she was speaking in her mind, obviously not wanting the watchers to hear those words.

"I've had plenty of time to learn." Rogue replied, finding it strange to once again be speaking to someone without opening her mouth. She hadn't done that in a long time. Not since her sessions with the Professor, where he had been trying to help her come to terms with her mutation, to control it better, maybe even master it. Of course they never got very far. Magneto's terrorism and everything else putting a cork on that.

"He doesn't blame you Rogue."

"I know, right now its as if his and my thoughts are one, I feel what he feels, know what he knows, it's hard to distinguish his thoughts from mine."

"I'm sure it will clear up in time... I've placed a couple blocks in your mind so they don't overwhelm you all at once."

"My name is Angela." she suddenly said out loud. Not wanting to rouse suspicion. Or attention.

Rogue looked at her and frowned. "Not really sure who I am." and she knew she spoke the truth. Her thoughts still not quite her own, her sense of herself strangely distorted.

"I can help you with that if you allow me to."

Rogue didn't respond. Not out loud anyway.

"Thank you... for everything"

Angela gave her a sad smile in return.