Disclaimer: We all know that all the characters used here belong to Marvel, the cute little gnomes who dance around singing 'meats of evil!" Do not take their meats of evil.

Author Notes: As you cna see, N and I are taking turns writing this one. All this happens after Bloodstained Machinations and during Home Sweet Home and Awakening, it all falls into the wonderful time line that is known as Mutatis Mutandis which, in my opinion, more people should take the time to read.
Why?
Because it took a long time to sort out all the details and ideas and to go un-appreciated would tick me off considerably. So if you like what you read then please be a good little monkey and go to http://www.originofspecies.cjb.net and read the rest of it.

Conversations
(In the Dark)
Chapter 2
By Kitten

" Father into your hands, why have you forsaken me?
In your eyes, forsaken me
In your thoughts, forsaken me
In your heart, forsaken me

Oh, trust in my, self-righteous suicide
I cry when angels deserve to die
In my self-righteous suicide
I cry when angels deserve to die…."

Her voice was low, her accent deep and melodious.

"Rogue?" Scott called softly, cautiously moving into the dark room.

He could make out her slim figure; she lay on one of the many lumpy beds that populated the Brotherhood home. He could see her long pale legs flowing out from under the large grey pinstripe men's shirt that she had found in the back of the upstairs attic. Most of the X-men had crept their way up there in order to find alternative attire, as their uniforms were dirty and drenched in the sweat of their hard efforts.

"Can we talk?" He asked, pausing in the dark, watching as she sat up and drew her legs towards her chest. She didn't say anything but patted the spot next to her.

He sat down, feeling a little awkward. He knew something was wrong with Rogue; ever since they had rescued her from that weird place she had been very quiet, curt even.

Scott cleared his throat and turned to look at her, he stopped short when he noticed again how pale her legs were, and how long they looked curled up against her chest.

Her eyes looked up at him, and he blushed.

"Weren't you wearing pants before?" He asked, turning his head, thankful for the darkness.

"They smelt weird," she said wrinkling her nose. "Kind of lahk pot and mold."

It was true most the clothing that the kids found in the attic were rejects from the 70'; Scott himself was wearing a pair of faded jean bellbottoms and a wildly colored short sleeved shirt that was missing more than one button. He felt vulnerable and self-conscious, not liking the fact that the shirt gaped open whenever he sat down or moved the wrong way.

The CD stopped and Rogue went to change it. Scott gently took hold of her wrist.

"What happened to you?" He blurted out foolishly, instantly regretting his bluntness. He turned his eyes away, and the two stood motionless for a few moments; a pair of ivory statues illuminated by the yellowed streetlights, frozen in positions of reflection.

"I know that something happened to you Rogue, and… I need to know what."

"Why?" She asked harshly, her voice cold and bitter. "Why should you care what happens to me as long as Miss Perfect is safe?"

He looked at her, his heart stinging. "That's not fair." He said, his voice catching in his throat, making his Adam's apple hitch uncontrollably. This, on top of everything else, was just too much.

"You know I care about everyone on this team, if anything were to happen… most of all to you." His words drifted across the heavy silence.

She turned and looked at his face, it was wet with fresh tears, the crystal liquid seeping out from beneath his shades.

"Scott?" She moved onto the bed beside him, she touched his face, her gloves soaking up the salty tears. "Oh Scott, Ahm sorry, Ah didn't mean…"

"I hate this," he said quietly, his voice small and almost boyish. She paused and then wrapped her arms around him. He sunk gratefully into her, smelling her natural perfume, which was musky and slightly dark.

"I hate being here," he said through tears. "I hate not knowing where he is, and not knowing what's going to happen and most of all, I hate not being able to fix any of this."

"Shhh," she soothed and stroked his hair gently. He sniffed and burrowed deeper into her frame.

"I'm sorry I messed up." He said, his voice soaked with anguish. "I'm sorry I didn't notice in time, I'm sorry that you had to…go through whatever it was. I'm so sorry." He sobbed his body sagging against her, she held him tighter and marveled at how small he seemed to be. How thin and weak his body felt all of a sudden.

Mah god, she thought to herself as she rubbed his back lovingly. He thinks all of this is his fault! She gently pulled his head up from out of her chest, making his eyes level with hers.

"Scott, this isn't your fault." She said, he tried to turn away but she forced him to look at her, "None of this is." Her voice was strong and she held his eyes in hers, although she wasn't aware of the fact.

"But I…"

"But nothing," she said forcefully. "There was no way to know in time. And as for me being in that weird place, that was nobody's fault. It just happened. The point is that you came for me. You rescued me."

He looked into her eyes and saw something shinning out at him, something beautiful and perfect. "Tell me, please?" He asked. "What happened to you down there?"

She sighed and drew away a little. "Ah….touched one of the guards. It was by accident, he was angry and went to hit me except…" She shrugged. "He wound up putting himself out and Ah got a little peek into what he thought about us."

She looked up into his eyes, her own large and full of fear. "They hate us so much Scott," her voice was a whisper. "So much that it's scary."

He pulled her over to him and held her, wrapping his arms around her fiercely. The two of them stayed that way, motionless, for what seemed to be hours. Providing each other with comfort until their souls were at ease, and then some.