GOOD INTENTIONS

SUMMARY: Rogue and Scott head off for a training excercise, but things don't work out well.
DISTRIBUTION: Kielle can obviously have it. Everyone else must ask first.
DISCLAIMER: Good guys are not mine, bad guys are.
FEEDBACK: please!
PERSONAL WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.comkatta_hj
OTHER RECOMMENDED WEBSITE: One that repeatedly shows that good intentions can be completely devastating if you don't ask people before you decide what's best for them: http://welcome.to/fingertoes
DEDICATION: To Jill and Rhiannon, my fellow musketettes, betareaders and helpers. Without them, this fic would have looked completely different.
NOTE: This does not fit into any canon, including my own. Any likeness with real people is probably coincidental (I don't know what Stan Lee had in mind). Any likeness with fictional characters, from, oh I don't know, a very good Christian Slater movie, is intentional. The only animals harmed in the making of this fic were fictional and therefore don't count. There is serious harming of x-men canon characters in this fic. Angst warning, in other words.
**********
Bobby lay down on the couch, relaxing all his stretched muscles. You know, before this I thought Ororo was a *nice* person!
Rogue looked with sympathy at her friend. He looked far beyond tired, and she couldn't help wondering what he had been doing the past ten days.
Does everyone have to go through that program? she asked, a little worried. After all, summer holidays was supposed to be just that, not some sort of military camp.
No, just if you plan on being an X-man. Which I do. He rolled over on his stomach. Rogue, can you be an angel and rub my shoulders?
She did as she was asked, letting her gloved hands work automatically while she thought. Only if you planned on being an X-man well, why not? She couldn't think of anything she would like to do more, not with things being the way they were. Even Logan had returned and joined the team, in spite of all his previous cynicism. She wondered to herself if he had gone through those exercises too.
Bobby glanced up at her thoughtful face. No way. You're not really thinking of doing it, are you?
Why not? she asked, a little offended at his tone. I could do it as well as you.
Yeah, but it's not worth it. At her raised eyebrow, he admitted: Okay, it is worth it, but only just. Don't sign up for anything before you have thought it through, you hear me? You don't know who will be couching you. Ororo was mean, but they say she's just a summer breeze compared to
**********

Rogue stared at the bulletin board. Yup, that was her name, and next to that his. She looked at Bobby, standing beside her. I got Scott.
Don't say I didn't warn you. He grinned at her. You know, you still have a chance to back off.
Why would I? she asked, irritated. I can deal with Scott. He can't be that bad can he? Her voice was a little uncertain watching Bobby's grimace.
Don't tell me my Rogue is afraid of our fearless bug-eye, Logan said behind her. Turning around, she saw a frown on his face, but also a barely noticeable shadow of a smile.
I'm not!
He put a hand on her shoulder. I want you to show that little dick what a fighter you are. And if he tries to bully you, just absorb him.
Rogue didn't like thinking about her powers, but Logan joking about them made them seem a little less frightening, not like something too horrible to speak of.
Well, not too much, he said. I want to be the one finishing him off.
**********
Rogue looked out the window of the car on the road passing by, trying not to think too much of what lay ahead. Bobby had been exaggerating, of course. He always was. No matter how much he cared for her, he could never resist teasing her a little. Or maybe that was the cause. Anyway, there was no way all that stuff he had told her could be *true*. Ororo would never
Are you hungry?
Rogue looked up at Scott and nodded a little timidly. Nothing she told herself could get her heart to leave that uncomfortable spot in her mouth.
Me too. This looks like a good place.
Yeah, it did. One of those little by the road joints, but cosy somehow. Going inside, she found that it was just as nice as the outside. With one exception. According to the perpetual rules of life's bitchiness, there were a few loudmouths hanging around by the counter. No matter, that could be ignored. Or at least she could. Hearing the comments about Scott, she glanced at his direction, and even though his face didn't show that he had heard, she knew that he had.
You should have taken the glasses, she said in a low voice.
Too late now, he said calmly. Come on, there's a table.
When they had ordered their food and started to dig in on it, Rogue began to enjoy herself. Maybe Scott *was* rough on the training, but they weren't training yet, and so far he had been kind of nice. Nicer than she ever had seen him, actually, less of a leader and more of a person. He seemed to want her to relax a little, because he kept up the small talk and her heart began to get back in place. No need to worry about tomorrow.
I think I'm going to get a cup of coffee, he said. Do you want one?
No thanks.
She watched him leave for the counter and felt pleasantly full. The food had been really good and there had been plenty of it.
What's with the eyewear, freak?
One of the loudmouths was blocking Scott's way. Rogue bit her lip. She didn't want any trouble.
Scott remained calm. Will you please let me through?
I don't think so, freak. The man was getting agitated. I don't want your kind coming in here and spoil the fun for decent people.
Oh, I see, you prefer to do that yourself?
Rogue snickered a little at that remark, but it wasn't a very wise one. Not if you wanted to stay out of trouble. The man's face turned crimson.
That's it, I'm gonna show you, mutie!
His punch wasn't very impressive. Scott's, on the other hand, was. It only took one blow to make the guy fall. Unfortunately, he fell right on Rogue. Skin touched bare skin and Rogue started to screm as she saw the guy choking in her lap. Everyone stared at her, and she panicked seeing the man's friends come closer. She hadn't wanted to absorb him, but how could she explain that? She was relieved when Scott pulled the man away from her, and gratefully accepted the support his arm offered.
I suggest you leave. The owner spoke firmly, but she didn't mind being asked to leave, that was all she wanted right now. Get away from the people around, from those awful men and their hateful eyes. If only she could get away from the man in her head. Outside she stopped, leaning towards the wall.
I think I'm going to throw up, she said.
Scott nodded. He felt a little helpless watching her. As her teacher, he was supposed to protect her, not get her into situations like these. Rogue, I'm so sorry, he said when she straightened up again.
It's not your fault. She wiped her mouth. I want to leave.

**********
Inside, a woman was making a phone call, speaking with a low voice. She was well-dressed in clothing that screamed professional. One of them almost killed a man just by touching him. I don't know what the mutation of the other one was, but he was wearing some funny thing over his eyes. Apart from that they both looked perfectly normal. Do you think they would be suitable?
The answer pleased her. They will be perfect.
**********
By the side of the road there was a car with its hood open, and a man waving his arms for help. Scott pulled over the car and got out. he asked.
The man's glance touched Scott's face for only a second before he looked away. Yeah. The car just stopped and I don't know why. Gas and battery are both okay. I'm afraid I don't know too much about engines.
I do, Scott said with a smile. It was hard being nice to people who treated you like a leper, but easier than dealing with bullies. He bent down over the hood and looked at the engine. There wasn't anything obvious wrong with it.
He felt a small sting on his neck, and before he realised what had happened, he drifted off into nowhere.
Rogue saw Scott slump over the stranger's car and rushed out, yelling his name. As the other man turned around she took a few steps backwards, frightened. But the man seemed just as shocked as she was. I dont know what happened to him. You think he had a stroke or something?
A stroke? Scott? It didn't seem likely. Worried, Rogue walked up to the car, eyes fixated at her unconscious teacher.
A sound made her turn around. The stranger was putting on gloves. Why would he do that? Suddenly she realised that getting out of the car had been a decidedly *bad* idea. She didn't have time to act on that thought. A needle flashed, and after that, Rogue knew of nothing.
**********
When Rogue woke up she found herself tied to a bed. Looking around, she saw that she lay in something that looked like a perfectly normal hospital room, only in a perfectly normal hospital room, nobody would have tied her up. She recalled rumours she had heard about anti-mutant groups, and more than rumours, Logan's shattered memories came up to the top of her head. Her mouth turned dry from fear.
The door opened and a woman in doctor's clothing came in.
Oh, good, you're awake, she said in an amiable voice.
Who are you? Rogue asked, panicking. Where's Scott?
The young man who was with you? I'm afraid I can't tell you that, but I assure you that he is fine. She moved closer to Rogue. What's your name?
Rogue didn't answer and the woman smiled. Alright then, you don't have to tell me. I'm doctor Chandler. None of us is here to harm you.
Rogue found that very hard to believe. Then why tie me up?
Because this isn't optional either. Dr. Chandler's voice was calm and friendly, but in spite of this, Rogue started to feel scared. Your mutation is very dangerous, you understand that, don't you? She didn't wait for a reply. It is most essential that we find a cure as soon as possible.
A cure? If this hadn't been such a serious situation, Rogue would have laughed. There's no cure for mutation! It's in my genes!
True. There are people working on the genetic aspects. We're not it, though. Our field of study is more concrete, including surgical methods.
The world swirled around Rogue's head. All that sweet talking couldn't hide the fact that she was a guineapig to them.
Dr. Chandler seemed disappointed at her reaction. Please understand that our intentions are good, she said, bringing out a needle. Now, I'm going to take a blood sample from you. It's not dangerous, but some people don't like the sight of their own blood, so maybe you should look away.
Rogue's school nurse had said the same thing, in the same kind of sweet voice.
There. Now we'll run some tests on your blood and you'll get the results once we're done.
A man entered the room, carrying a small cage in one hand.
Heather? I brought the mouse.
Oh, good! Dr. Chandler turned to Rogue. This is doctor Sawyer, one of my colleagues.
Dr. Sawyer said, nodding in Rogue's direction. Then he turned back to Dr. Chandler. Heather, I have some work to do, do you mind if I don't stay?
Of course not, Ronnie. Get going. Dr. Chandler playfully slapped his behind as he left, and he blushed a little. After he had left, she put on rubber gloves before taking the mouse out of its cage and rolling up Rogue's sleeve.
Let's see if this works with animals as well, she said, letting the mouse down on Rogue's arm. It moved around for a second or two before stiffening. Rogue closed her eyes, not wanting to see the little animal get hurt but incapable of doing anything about it.
Dr. Chandler took the mouse away, listening to its heart through a stetoscope. You killed it, she said calmly. She looked at Rogue. Did you intend to kill it or did it just happen?
Rogue watched the limp body of the mouse. She had always considered mice definitely icky. Yet its body looked so weak and pathetic tears filled her eyes.
Dr. Chandler took a tape recorder from her pocket and spoke into it. Subject number two killed a mouse by touch, apparently without wishing for it to happen. Both subjects have dangerous mutations, and neither seems able to prevent a lethal outcome. She turned off the tape recorder and turned to Rogue. Don't worry. We'll take care of you.
Rogue lay back on the bed, crying. Her mind went to Scott. Dr. Chandler had been speaking of two subjects. What were they doing to him?
**********
When Scott woke up and couldn't open his eyes, his pulse exceeded all speed limits in no time. For a moment he thought he was back in his old nightmare. Moving around, he couldn't help but notice that his hands and feet were tied up, too, meaning this was a *new* nightmare. That didn't make him feel any better. He tried to keep his thoughts clear, to figure out what had happened. The man in the car. Damn, he should have known better than to approach strangers. When you're a mutant, that's equivalent to wearing a kick me sign.
Nobody would find them. That was a thought that kept pushing forward. On a training excercise like this, it could take several days before he had the energy to call Jean. Sometimes he didn't call at all. She always told him to, but she wouldn't be a bit surprised if she didn't hear from him in the next ten days.
A lot could happen in ten days.
Scott lay for what seemed like hours, trying to stay calm and think of what to do. There was nothing he *could* do. If only he knew what was going on, maybe it wouldn't seem so bad. Then again, maybe it would feel worse.
Finally, he heard a door open.
I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, a man's voice said. My name is doctor Sawyer. I understand if our methods made you fear the worst, but you have no reason to worry.
I don't? Scott's voice was sarcastic.
This is all a precaution, Dr. Sawyer said, sounding a bit awkward. We are trying to find ways of performing corrective surgery on mutants. Unfortunately, we have not had much luck in finding voluntary subjects, so we make choices from a selection of mutants who are dangerous to themselves and others, but fairly normal-looking.
And you picked me. Scott didn't know how he managed to keep his voice calm. How flattering.
It may seem radical to you, Dr. Sawyer said in an apologetic voice, but I honestly believe you will find the life we can provide you with a definite improvement to your previous one. And of course we won't keep you here once we've fixed you.
Fixed? He didn't want to be fixed. He wasn't broken. Well, not too much, anyway.
I noticed that you had been injured in a most unfortunate way. A note of regret. I can't even imagine what your life must be like. We'll make it a lot better for you. You'll see.
Scott clenched his teeth in suppressed anger. At least the usual FOH bastards didn't try to give him a pity he had never asked for. Okay, so maybe he wouldn't mind being provided with an off-switch, but not by some kidnappers who used him for experiments. And he certainly didn't want them to take his powers away altogether.
What did you do to the girl?
She's fine, I promise. We are considering skin transplants, do you think it will work?
You're mad. And there wasn't a thing he could do about it.
Well, we thought it would be worth a try. I'll give you some time to yourself. Someone will bring you food in an hour or so.
Again, the door opened and closed. Scott was alone.
**********
Dr. Dean, head of the team, searched his notes and sketches for flaws. He couldn't find any, and he felt most excited. So far the experiments had been small, just as expected, and he had certainly not thought that they would come up with a real solution this quickly. Then again, he had always known that Dr. Finn was a brilliant woman.
Ronnie, come and look at this, he said to Dr. Sawyer, who immediately left his own work. Betty has thought of an operation to perform on the male subject. Isn't it ingenious?
Dr. Sawyer looked at the notes, frowning, and Dr. Dean felt he had to explain further.
She and Duke have construced a crystal that we will place right *there*. I want you to assist. He pointed with his pencil and gave Dr. Sawyer a questioning glance.
I understand. But Jason it looks a bit risky.
Risky? No, no, not at all. The energy doesn't actually reach dangerous impact until it meets the eye. The procedure should be completely safe.
That's not what I meant. If we start messing around with his optic nerve, isn't there a danger of scarring it?
Dr. Dean looked thoughtful. But I do believe it's a risk worth taking.
Dr. Sawyer opened his mouth, but before he had the chance to say anything, his boss continued: So, how's the quiltmaking going?
fine, Dr. Sawyer said. Heather is making progress, I think. It was actually too early to tell whether the transplants were working or not, but at least the girl's body didn't resist them. She tested the removed skin, and it shows no more dramatic characteristics than the blood, which indicates that it's not the skin itself that causes the effects. Of course, this could also mean that the transplants will be dominated by her mutation.
We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Dr. Dean said mirthfully. No other problems with the girl?
No, she's fine. Not entirely happy, perhaps, but that could hardly be expected.
**********
Logan stopped short outside the mansion and stared at Jean. Now, that was something he had tended to do more than once, but not for the same reason. She must have noticed him, because she stopped the fierce raking and turned to him, her face all flushing and sweaty.
she snapped.
Jeannie, when you rake a gravelled path, you usually do it to spread the gravel around, not to destroy it It wasn't even her job to rake the paths, and she didn't seem to be very good at it. Are you okay?
Jean tossed the rake aside and sighed. Scott will be back soon, after ten days without a phone call, she said shortly. She wasn't very fond of the idea of discussing her lovelife with Logan of all people.
Logan wasn't exactly thrilled, either. On the other hand, he would have wanted some updates on how Rogue was doing, so this was kind of his problem too. You're mad at him.
You could say that. I have to keep working so I don't kill him when he comes home.
Her eyes wandered to the road outside. She began to feel more worried than angry, not for the first time. They should have been back already.
**********
Scott woke up with a pounding headache that made him want to throw up. Something was different. Fighting back the nausea he suddenly realised that nothing covered his eyes. The ties around his wrists and ankles were still there, and some kind of bandage around his head, but not the blindfold. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
No beams came out, and the blackness was so massive he wondered to himself if he had actually opened them. He tried blinking a few times. No change. Were they keeping him under earth, or what was wrong?
When the door opened without making the room any lighter, the truth finally dawned on him, and the panic it caused was so strong he could no longer stop himself from vomiting. *Please, God,* he thought, *not this! Anything but this, God, you know I can't take it!*
Someone was tilting his body so he wouldn't choke, and when his stomach settled he tried to see through the dark to know who it was.
Oh my God! A shocked whisper. When the voice continued, Scott recognized it as Dr. Sawyer's. I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Then do something, Scott said silently. When he got no answer, he yelled: DO SOMETHING!
Dr. Sawyer licked his lips. He wasn't sure there was anything they *could* do. I'll try, he promised. When he had cleaned up Scott's bed he hurried to the door, trying to find someone that could help.
Dr. Dean just passed by and turned to his younger colleague with a smile.
Ah, Ronnie! How's the subject doing?
Not well. The operation wasn't entirely successful. The only thing that stopped him from saying *I told you so* was the gravity of the situation.
Dr. Dean looked worried. The beams aren't blocked?
Yes. They are. But so is his vision. He looked at Dr. Dean waiting for a suggestion on what to do, how to undo this failed experiment.
Ah. Pity. Well, the important thing is that the mutation is gone, isn't it?
Dr. Sawyer stared at him.
Isn't it?
**********
Rogue hated lying alone in the hospital room, but she hated the times the door opened even more. Sometimes it meant food, but most of the time it meant people taking little bits and pieces away from her, or letting mice run over her body. Last time they had let a mouse stand on the new sore skin, the foreign skin, it had lived for almost a minute, but it had died nevertheless.
When Dr. Sawyer came in, she automatically checked what he carried. No mice, thankfully, and not any needles either, that she could see. Just folded-up doctor's clothes. She frowned. What were they up to this time?
You look fine today, he said. His voice was cheerful. Too cheerful. A lot better than your friend next door.
Next door! During all this time, she had never been able to find out where Scott was. Now she was told in a by-the-way manner, as if it wasn't even important. Which it probably wasn't, since she still couldn't get to him.
I'll just check on your straps, he said, leaning down next to her face. She prayed for him to lean down a little longer, enough to touch her. It wouldn't help, but she would feel so much better fighting back. They were always wearing latex gloves when they were near her.
Then she heard him whisper: Lie still until I leave the room.
Before she could figure out what to make of that, the strap around her right wrist was loosened. Dr. Sawyer wasn't checking the straps. He was removing them.
Yup, looks fine. He moved towards the door and made a small motion towards the table where he had put the clothes. She watched him leave.
As soon as he had left she sat up and swung her legs down. They tingled a little, since she had been lying down for so long, but they worked. She hurried to the table. Two doctor's coats in different sizes, two pair of trousers, one pair of latex gloves and most beautiful of all, a bunch of keys. She almost cried out in delight. Maybe it was a trap, but it was the only chance she had. With shivering hands, she put on the clothes. She wasn't too happy about the latex gloves, but she understood that they were necessary if she didn't want to hurt Scott by mistake. If she ever got out of this place, she would never get near latex gloves again for the rest of her life.
She opened the door carefully, checking the corridors for people. Nobody there. Now, next door, but left or right? She chanced for right and put a key in the lock. Wrong one. When the next one was wrong too, she forced herself to take a close look at the keys. Think logically. Which one could it be?
Third key turned around easily in the lock. Bingo.
Opening the door, she found Scott lying on a bed by the window, and she sighed with relief. It surprised her that his eyes were uncovered, but what really shocked her was that he seemed to be crying. She had never seen him cry, and not really thought him capable of it.
she asked, uncertainly.
His eyes met hers. Only they didn't. Rogue lost her breath.
Disbelief in his voice.
Not trusting her voice she nodded, only to realise he couldn't see it. she said. I'm getting you out of here.
Scott felt his arms and legs be untied. He would have thought he was daydreaming if it hadn't been for the horrible darkness that surrounded him. This was real, Rogue was really setting him free.
How did you get here? he asked.
One of the doctors let me go. I don't know why. Rogue was on the verge of crying. She had hoped that once she had released Scott, he would put on the fearless leader act and get them both out. She hadn't counted on him being in a worse condition than herself.
She didn't have much choice but to keep up her courage. Trembling, she handed him the clothes. Put these on. For a moment she wondered if she ought to help him, but decided not to. This was already the scariest moment of her life. Helping the leader of the X-men dress himself would most certainly push her over the edge. Fortunately, he managed to get it done by himself so quickly that it made her wonder if he always dressed without looking.
Okay, let's go, she said, moving for the door and holding his hand. Before she could turn the handle he pressed her hand, hard.
he whispered. There's someone outside.
Even in this state, his voice carried some of his usual authority, so Rogue just stopped short and held her breath. Listening carefully, she could hear footsteps and low voices. It didn't seem like anyone had noticed her departure yet, but stepping out right in front of them would probably make them suspicious.
They're gone. Come on!
**********
Somehow, with joined efforts, they managed to get through the corridors. Rogue found that in spite of what she had first feared, she didn't have to get by on her own. Sure, she had to lead Scott through the building and help him hide when necessary, but *he* was more often than not the one to realize it was necessary. All the battle training he had gone through hadn't left him, and since his eyes had always been his weakness as well as strength he had long since learned how to listen. Unfortunately, luck and skill only lasted them so long.
Hey! What are you doing?
After that they had to count on running.
Rounding a corner they ran into a doctor before any of them had time to stop. Damn. Rogue was getting ready to unglove herself when she saw that it was Dr. Sawyer.
You try to stop us I swear I'll kill you, she said.
I won't. The young man pointed across his own shoulder. Last door to the left is an exit. Hurry on and I'll stall them.
She looked at him, trying to figure out what was going through his head. Why'd you change your mind so sudden? she asked.
His answer was low. We were supposed to give you a better life. How can maimed be better? We all had good intentions but I guess it's true what they say about good intentions.
Her hand automatically went to her bandaged arm. A lifetime without touch had been bad. This violation was definitely not better. She would have wanted to thank him for helping them, but she couldn't. He had been one of the people putting mice on her skin and needles in her veins, and by the look on Scott's face, he wasn't exactly innocent to Scott's miseries either. So instead, she just turned and ran.
Dr Sawyer watched them leave and turned around, determined to buy them all the time he could. A few steps later, Dr. Chandler was in his way.
Have you seen them? she asked.
The subjects? He shook his head. I've searched this corridor. They're not here.
She watched his face closely.
How did they manage to escape, Ronnie? You were the last one in, you must have some idea.
Damn, he wasn't a good liar.
Two of the other doctors hurried up, and she spoke to them without turning her eyes from Dr. Sawyer. Duke, Mac, look through this corridor. Her voice was mild as she continued: You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Ronnie?
He knew that voice. His cover was blown, and he tried arguments. Listen Heather, we were wrong. All those things we were doing just made things worse.
What a lack of confidence! she said. Are you feeling depressed?
Depressed!? We blinded a man, Heather! We turned a girl into patchwork! Depressed doesn't even cover it. Jesus, Heather, thinking of what I have done
Guilt isn't a very healthy emotion, she said. It sounds to me like you're having a nervous breakdown. But don't worry, we're going to help you.
**********
Rogue panted and pushed Scott through the same. Thank God it wasn't locked.
She was surprised at how pleasant the place looked from the outside. Those gates weren't exactly a pleasant sight, though, high and guarded as they were. Quickly, she drew Scott away around a corner.
I don't know how to get out of here, she said. The gates are guarded.
What do the fences look like? he asked.
No fences really, just a high hedge and some chicken wire.
A look of satisfaction came upon his face. Good. Any cars?
A couple I don't think any of these keys are car keys, though.
But they're attached to something? He held out his hand, and she gave him the keys. A piece of wire.
Perfect. Take me there.
She pulled him with her to the nearest car, heart beating so fast it hurt. They were going to get caught, she just knew they were. What are you going to do?
He didn't answer. Instead he rolled the coat around his hand and jammed his fist right through the backseat window. Stretching his arm forward he unlocked the driver's door.
Get inside and open for me, he said, moving over to the other side of the car. I hope you can drive.
I can, she said, doing as he said. But we still don't have any keys.
We don't need any, he replied. When he had seated himself he locked his door and began to straighten out the wire that attached the keys. Lock on your side, he said. They're bound to have heard the window break.
Rogue looked in the rear view mirror and saw people running towards them. Then she heard the beautiful sound of a motor starting. Her foot reached for the gas pedal.
Get up as fast a speed as you can, he ordered her. Go around in circles if you have to. Then drive through the hedge. If you do it fast enough it's not going to hurt the car.
As she made the car accelerate she actually began to feel strangely excited, and when they had pushed through the hedge she actually gave out a laugh. The laboratory people were getting into cars themselves, but she still started to feel like they could actually make it away from there. Her gaze fell on the makeshift skeleton key Scott had made.
I never knew you could pick a lock, she said. What are you, some kind of MacGyver?
His face was stern and he didn't answer her attempt to joke, only requested: Drive as fast as you can and don't stop for anything. Try to lose them.
Gee, as if that wasn't what she was trying to do. Some emotion that could have been Logan's came up in her head and growled at him. If they weren't being chased and if she didn't have to spend all her energy driving, she probably would have slapped him. This was like a car chase on TV, except for real and much worse, because she knew what those followers were capable of. At least there weren't any police cars.
Scott? What do we do if the police try to stop us?
Keep driving, I guess, he said. We're never going to be able to explain this.
That made sense in a way, but she didn't like it. But you know, a couple of mutants in a stolen car that get into trouble with the police they just might try and kill us.
Scott mumbled something.
Rogue's eyes widened for a second, then she concentrated on the road, telling herself she must have misheard. This was Scott Summers, after all. Blinded and in a crappy condition, but still the fearless leader of the X-men. The respected teacher with the uncrackable surface, the guy who never showed his emotions if there was anything he could do about it. He wouldn't even kiss Jean if people were watching. Cool, calm and untouchable.
Scott Summers would never have said .
**********