17 years and 58 seconds
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If you didn't feel the chemistry, the electricity between Rogue and Wolverine in the movie, don't bother reading any further - this isn't the story for you!
---------------
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters, I'm not that old! I'm just using them and playing -'what if'
Background: In the Marvel comics, Rogue did put her boyfriend in a coma, but was raised by Mystique, not rescued by Prof. X. Rogue was a bad, bad girl and offed a good super hero named Ms. Marvel. By holding on to Ms. Marvel too long Rogue absorbed Ms. Marvel's powers permanently. She got the ability to fly, super human strength and near imperviousness. I find these attributes make her a real crime fighter more than just the absorption of powers. So for this story I'm including this aspect.
For those who care, in the comics, Wolverine has a long time thing for Jean, but Jean marries Scott. Jean later 'becomes' the Phoenix. Phoenix becomes Dark Phoenix and kills entire worlds. Billions of people die because of her. Dark Phoenix is killed. Scott hooks up with Storm. (Guess that's why I've never been a big Jean Grey fan). Rogue is supposed to hook up with Gambit. Loves him, leaves him and then kicks it with Magneto. Yeah right. That's not happening in this story! :)
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My name is Rogue. My real name is Marie. If you know me as Marie, you're probably my friend. If you know me as Rogue, you're probably my enemy. Through a blip in Nature and my own personal genetics, I've developed a special ability that doesn't show up on one of those funny home video shows. If my skin touches your skin I absorb your strength, memories and some of your personality - depending on how long I touch you.
I've been asked, from time to time, how I deal with my 'power'. I have to admit, I wasn't good about it. In fact, I can't think of how I could have handled it worse. Now that things have quieted down alittle, I'm taking the time to reflect on my life and the different turns it's taken.
I came to live with X-men and Prof. X. when I was 17, 4 long years ago. Like many mutants - god that word still hurts, even when I use it - my 'power' awoke when I was trying to deal with puberty. I kissed my boyfriend one day, two hours later I'm watching him through two inches of glass in the ICU ward of our local hospital. *I* did that. He was just a nice guy who wanted to kiss me and now he was in a coma, his parents and mine were crying in the waiting room.
If you've never been on the receiving end, you have no idea how much pain can be directed at you just through someone's eyes. Cody's parents - Cody, yeah, that was his name - looked at me like I was Adolf Hitler, reborn. They glowered at me and wished me dead in their heads. I know because I wished the same thing. It didn't matter that it was an accident, that I didn't mean to hurt him - that I couldn't control it. It mattered that I was different - not just regular different but the kind of different that would define every single second of my life from now on. I wasn't Marie anymore. And they weren't Marie's parents. I was a mutant. Now and forever.
Of course I ran away. As a teenager facing the most life-altering problem of my short life I did what teenagers seem born to do. Run away. Run far away and hope the problem doesn't find you. Smart creatures, teenagers. But as Fate would have it, I ran exactly where I was supposed to go.
If YOU had a 'problem' with your skin and wanted to keep covered up, where would you? Why up North, of course! Cold weather that begs for gloves. So I hitched to Canada and met Him. I was in a dive like so many others, trying to nick some money or get another ride to a bigger city. Apparently they didn't have cable in this fine establishment because their form of entertainment was bare fisted boxing. The appeal became clear to me, at least, when I saw the main attraction. If you'd been able to bottle pure maleness - virility, machismo, the kind of hunkiness that makes you want to scratch your nails down his chest - this man would be your main supply. He stood in the steel cage - a caged animal - and snarled at his opponent. I watched the local yokels throw themselves and their money at him in an attempt to beat their chests and proclaim "I am Man!". This man, however, was more man than all of them.
At the time I was young, broke, cold, and frightened - both of myself and the world. I was waiting for the next leg of my trek to unveil itself when he came to the bar to claim his money and a cold beer. Up close I added another thing to be afraid of. I couldn't take my eyes off him which turned out to be a good thing when those local yokels came back for some of their self esteem and money. I made some kind of warning about the impending knife in his back and was suddenly shown exactly why he won those fights.
The 'he' in question? Wolverine, of course. Ah yes, you've heard of him. The hair, the claws, the snarl, the attitude. What's not to love? After he dispatched the locals, I hitched a ride with him. We met up with a roadblock with fur named Sabretooth who killed Wolverine's truck and almost me. But because we - both Wolverine and me - were being monitored by the computer to end all computers, Cerebro, two X-men came and helped us - ok, helped me. Wolverine has always been able to take care of himself. They took us to upper New York state to a gorgeous estate that was converted to school for 'special' people like myself and Wolverine. I find it ironic now, looking back on that day, that I met the man who was the most calming influence on my life, and the man who would disturb my life - even my dreams - in ways I couldn't begin to imagine. Professor X runs the school for mutants and believes that humans can accept us one day. Sure they can accept us, why just look at the progress they've made with lesser mutations - birth defects, skin color, etc. (Sarcasm, did I forget to mention it's my mental crutch? A side effect from something that happened later, I'm afraid. Explanation to come.)
In the short time Wolverine spent with us at the school, I connected with him more than anyone else. I tried for the longest time to figure out why. Why him and not someone my own age? Maybe because he was what I wanted to be, fierce, independent, a loner. I know the power I've got mandates me being alone. Perhaps I was drawn to him by something more primal, like the fact that he's gorgeous!
Plus, there were those two ... incidents. When our skins touched. Once by my choice, once by his. (Note to the wise, NEVER disturb Wolverine when he's asleep [and if you do wake him the middle of the night, you'll answer to me!]). I admit I was drawn to him in the middle of the night, wanting to be close to him. I called his name and he woke up, claws first - into my chest. In the wanning seconds of my life I touched his skin and absorbed his ability to heal myself. Of course it knocked him out, but we both lived. The second incident I'm sure you know the broad details of - Magneto, Statue of Liberty, mad scientist kind of stuff. Anyway, I was dead. Dead from that stupid contraption. And Wolverine saved me. How much simpler can I say it? He offered up his own body and strength to save me. He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, but it was big deal to me. I was learning about the other things I get from skin contact. Like memories and bits of personality. Wolverine, at least a part of him, is living inside me. I'm sure it's killing him to be trapped by two X chromosomes, but tough. I gained a big insight into him after the second touch - his sense of humor, his sense of loyalty and justice.
But true to his restless nature, he needed to leave. The Professor, so good at helping those of us afflicted with too much of a good thing, was helping Wolverine to recall some of his past. I knew how much Wolverine wanted to recall his past. I however, wanted to escape mine. I needed a future, a reason to live, not a way to keep remembering the people I've hurt.
You've stayed with me this long, bless you. My story is about to begin ...
----------------
If you didn't feel the chemistry, the electricity between Rogue and Wolverine in the movie, don't bother reading any further - this isn't the story for you!
---------------
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own the characters, I'm not that old! I'm just using them and playing -'what if'
Background: In the Marvel comics, Rogue did put her boyfriend in a coma, but was raised by Mystique, not rescued by Prof. X. Rogue was a bad, bad girl and offed a good super hero named Ms. Marvel. By holding on to Ms. Marvel too long Rogue absorbed Ms. Marvel's powers permanently. She got the ability to fly, super human strength and near imperviousness. I find these attributes make her a real crime fighter more than just the absorption of powers. So for this story I'm including this aspect.
For those who care, in the comics, Wolverine has a long time thing for Jean, but Jean marries Scott. Jean later 'becomes' the Phoenix. Phoenix becomes Dark Phoenix and kills entire worlds. Billions of people die because of her. Dark Phoenix is killed. Scott hooks up with Storm. (Guess that's why I've never been a big Jean Grey fan). Rogue is supposed to hook up with Gambit. Loves him, leaves him and then kicks it with Magneto. Yeah right. That's not happening in this story! :)
----
My name is Rogue. My real name is Marie. If you know me as Marie, you're probably my friend. If you know me as Rogue, you're probably my enemy. Through a blip in Nature and my own personal genetics, I've developed a special ability that doesn't show up on one of those funny home video shows. If my skin touches your skin I absorb your strength, memories and some of your personality - depending on how long I touch you.
I've been asked, from time to time, how I deal with my 'power'. I have to admit, I wasn't good about it. In fact, I can't think of how I could have handled it worse. Now that things have quieted down alittle, I'm taking the time to reflect on my life and the different turns it's taken.
I came to live with X-men and Prof. X. when I was 17, 4 long years ago. Like many mutants - god that word still hurts, even when I use it - my 'power' awoke when I was trying to deal with puberty. I kissed my boyfriend one day, two hours later I'm watching him through two inches of glass in the ICU ward of our local hospital. *I* did that. He was just a nice guy who wanted to kiss me and now he was in a coma, his parents and mine were crying in the waiting room.
If you've never been on the receiving end, you have no idea how much pain can be directed at you just through someone's eyes. Cody's parents - Cody, yeah, that was his name - looked at me like I was Adolf Hitler, reborn. They glowered at me and wished me dead in their heads. I know because I wished the same thing. It didn't matter that it was an accident, that I didn't mean to hurt him - that I couldn't control it. It mattered that I was different - not just regular different but the kind of different that would define every single second of my life from now on. I wasn't Marie anymore. And they weren't Marie's parents. I was a mutant. Now and forever.
Of course I ran away. As a teenager facing the most life-altering problem of my short life I did what teenagers seem born to do. Run away. Run far away and hope the problem doesn't find you. Smart creatures, teenagers. But as Fate would have it, I ran exactly where I was supposed to go.
If YOU had a 'problem' with your skin and wanted to keep covered up, where would you? Why up North, of course! Cold weather that begs for gloves. So I hitched to Canada and met Him. I was in a dive like so many others, trying to nick some money or get another ride to a bigger city. Apparently they didn't have cable in this fine establishment because their form of entertainment was bare fisted boxing. The appeal became clear to me, at least, when I saw the main attraction. If you'd been able to bottle pure maleness - virility, machismo, the kind of hunkiness that makes you want to scratch your nails down his chest - this man would be your main supply. He stood in the steel cage - a caged animal - and snarled at his opponent. I watched the local yokels throw themselves and their money at him in an attempt to beat their chests and proclaim "I am Man!". This man, however, was more man than all of them.
At the time I was young, broke, cold, and frightened - both of myself and the world. I was waiting for the next leg of my trek to unveil itself when he came to the bar to claim his money and a cold beer. Up close I added another thing to be afraid of. I couldn't take my eyes off him which turned out to be a good thing when those local yokels came back for some of their self esteem and money. I made some kind of warning about the impending knife in his back and was suddenly shown exactly why he won those fights.
The 'he' in question? Wolverine, of course. Ah yes, you've heard of him. The hair, the claws, the snarl, the attitude. What's not to love? After he dispatched the locals, I hitched a ride with him. We met up with a roadblock with fur named Sabretooth who killed Wolverine's truck and almost me. But because we - both Wolverine and me - were being monitored by the computer to end all computers, Cerebro, two X-men came and helped us - ok, helped me. Wolverine has always been able to take care of himself. They took us to upper New York state to a gorgeous estate that was converted to school for 'special' people like myself and Wolverine. I find it ironic now, looking back on that day, that I met the man who was the most calming influence on my life, and the man who would disturb my life - even my dreams - in ways I couldn't begin to imagine. Professor X runs the school for mutants and believes that humans can accept us one day. Sure they can accept us, why just look at the progress they've made with lesser mutations - birth defects, skin color, etc. (Sarcasm, did I forget to mention it's my mental crutch? A side effect from something that happened later, I'm afraid. Explanation to come.)
In the short time Wolverine spent with us at the school, I connected with him more than anyone else. I tried for the longest time to figure out why. Why him and not someone my own age? Maybe because he was what I wanted to be, fierce, independent, a loner. I know the power I've got mandates me being alone. Perhaps I was drawn to him by something more primal, like the fact that he's gorgeous!
Plus, there were those two ... incidents. When our skins touched. Once by my choice, once by his. (Note to the wise, NEVER disturb Wolverine when he's asleep [and if you do wake him the middle of the night, you'll answer to me!]). I admit I was drawn to him in the middle of the night, wanting to be close to him. I called his name and he woke up, claws first - into my chest. In the wanning seconds of my life I touched his skin and absorbed his ability to heal myself. Of course it knocked him out, but we both lived. The second incident I'm sure you know the broad details of - Magneto, Statue of Liberty, mad scientist kind of stuff. Anyway, I was dead. Dead from that stupid contraption. And Wolverine saved me. How much simpler can I say it? He offered up his own body and strength to save me. He shrugged it off like it was no big deal, but it was big deal to me. I was learning about the other things I get from skin contact. Like memories and bits of personality. Wolverine, at least a part of him, is living inside me. I'm sure it's killing him to be trapped by two X chromosomes, but tough. I gained a big insight into him after the second touch - his sense of humor, his sense of loyalty and justice.
But true to his restless nature, he needed to leave. The Professor, so good at helping those of us afflicted with too much of a good thing, was helping Wolverine to recall some of his past. I knew how much Wolverine wanted to recall his past. I however, wanted to escape mine. I needed a future, a reason to live, not a way to keep remembering the people I've hurt.
You've stayed with me this long, bless you. My story is about to begin ...