Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  Yadda yadda yadda, don't sue me.  I have nothing.

A/N: To those of you who think this is a little weird 'cos technically (at least in comic-verse), Rogue is Kurt's foster-sister, you might want to remember that Nightcrawlers childhood sweetheart, Jimaine (a.k.a. Amanda Sefton), who he had a fairly length relationship with in the comics, was actually his foster-sister as well, as they were both raised by Jimaine's mother Margali, who found Kurt as a baby.  It's going to be interesting to see whether Movie-Kurt knows whether or not Mystique is his mother (assuming they leave at least _that_ piece of history intact)…

Rant ends.  Story resumes from here.

Xavier shook his head, sadly, as he exited Cerebro.  Jean arrived at about the same time as Ororo and Remy, all of them awaiting an answer.

"Nothing." said the professor.  "I can't even get the slightest hint of her."  He sighed.  "It is possible that she is a natural psi-blocker, or that absorbing Kurt somehow affected her brainwave patterns.  Either way, I can't find her.  It's a pity there aren't any empaths in the mansion; it still might be possible to track her through her emotional signature…"

"Uh, Professor?"

Xavier continued his thoughts aloud.  "I think Moira knew of someone… perhaps I should…"

"Remy can do t' empathy t'ing."

"Oh."  Xavier looked sharply at him.  "I'd have to guide you.  Cerebro amplifies psionic powers many times over; are you sure you can handle this?"

Remy leaned back into Ororo's arms a little, as if seeking comfort, but replied quickly.  "Oui, Remy will be fine."

Jean and Ororo sat in the library, each nursing a cup of coffee and waiting for Xavier and Gambit to finish in Cerebro.  Jean's students had been given a free period, on the condition that they, as Jean put it 'keep the hell out of our way'.  Thus out the window could be seen many joyous young mutants who were switching between playing tag and making fun of those students stuck with Scott, who was continuing on with the English Literature afternoon class, having briefly emerged between his classes to give Ororo a hug.

Ororo frowned, wondering whether Scott would be okay with Remy living at the mansion.  He hadn't said anything, but then again, this was the man who had made disapproving silence into an art form.

Jean was watching Ororo over the brim of her coffee mug, green eyes alight with a question she was obviously dying to ask.  Frankly, Storm was getting tired of it.  "What?" she snapped.

"Hmmm?"

"Don't play innocent, Jean.  What is it you wanted to know?"

Her friend laughed, and shrugged.  "Why?  Why Remy?"

Ororo frowned, suddenly staring at the ceiling.

"Too personal a question?" asked Jean.

"No, it's not that."  Ororo looked Jean straight in the eye.  "You remember Forge, right?"

Jean Grey made a gagging noise.  "Yep, the bastard."

"After that, I was a little – once bitten, twice shy?"

"Perfectly understandable."  Jean took another sip of coffee.

"So with me and Logan… I don't know.  He's been hurt before too, and it was like…  It was like two wounded hearts, learning to trust again.  It was hard, Jean."

"You're telling me?"  The redhead's eyes widened comically.  " 'Ro, I was there for that train-wreck.  I spent months plotting to lock you both in a room somewhere until you sorted yourselves out."  She tapped her forehead.  "All that UST was giving me a headache."

"Jean!"

"All right, all right, I'm sorry.  And I do understand what you mean.  Logan doesn't strike me as the easiest person in the world to love.  And I take it Remy is 'different'?"

"Remy…"  Ororo began.  "Remy has a very simple view of life.  No matter how many times he's been knocked down, he doesn't let it change him.  He loves… wholeheartedly.  He chooses to love or to hate someone or something and then he does that with the entirety of his being.  And I… and I was Silver, when I met him.  No memories of hurt, just the freedom to love.  His attitude is infectious, you know."  She sighed.  "No fear.  Sometimes that's a little scary."

"Because he loves you so much?"

"Because I know he doesn't ever stop.  Logan… I've hurt him, and I'm sorry, but he will heal.  He'll get better and he'll learn to forget me and he'll move on, eventually.  Remy… knock him down and he'll get back up, yes, but… it leaves a scar."

Jean nodded.  "I saw his wrists, 'Ro.  Is that why you're doing this, because Remy needs you more than Logan does?"

"That's not a fair question, Jean?"

"It still needs an answer, 'Ro."

"Maybe it's because I need Remy more than I need Logan."

Jean gave her a long look.  "He better not break your heart, 'Ro.  They'd be lining up 'round the block to kick his ass." She sighed.  "Remy and the X-Men, right?  Best of both worlds?"

"You think I was unfair to Logan, by wanting things this way?"

"Life's unfair, 'Ro.  Wasn't any way you were getting out of this without breaking someone's heart."

Remy was flying.  Plugged in and amped up and the Prof was a mere presence beside him.  Whole world laid out before him in Christmas lights and their love and laughter and joy and… Merde.  He slammed up his shields.  Hard not to take the bad with the good and the hate and frustration and sorrow had poured in, threatening to overwhelm him.

No time now for flying, while the petite was in danger.  He let himself fall towards the earth, feeling, not hearing, the gasp of his 'guide', and glided, letting his instincts find her.  Many many little lights meant a city and he was shielding so they were dull and fading but there was one there that was like a flame, like a bright peak and he recognized her.  Went to embrace her, and all of sudden his shields were fading because her agony was like a bright knife through his chest, all her pain pouring out through his own wounds.  Trying to shield the professor, taking it all on himself and now he really was falling, freefall and the presence of Rogue was like acid, eating away at him and she didn't mean it, no she didn't mean it but she's dead she's dead and she's in my head.  Bright force surrounds him; it's the professor, and then he's rising again, the last tendrils of Rogue slipping away and it was brightness, brightness, the light blinding him.

And then darkness.

Jean was the one who heard the Professors telepathic cry, but Ororo reached Cerebro first, fear giving her a fleet-footedness she hadn't realized she had.  The Professor was conscious, barely, but Remy was slumped over.  As Ororo took him into his arms the Professor managed to croak out.

"Chicago."

"What?"  Jean was by Xavier's side at an instant, giving her the 'don't you tire him out look' that they must have taught her in medical school, but Ororo continued anyway.  "You found her?"

A slow nod.  "Gambit found her.  Chicago.  He took the brunt of it.  She's afraid, Ororo, and in great pain."

Scott turned up, taking Remy from her.  Ororo was told she was 'in the way', and she was shooed out of the infirmary, and ended up sitting in the kitchen, facing the phone.  She picked it up, dialing a familiar number.

~Chicago.~

"It's Ororo." said Brightling, from floor level.  Logan looked like he was about to go for the phone, but Kurt was there first, breaking several laws of physics in order to pick up the phone half-way through the first ring.  Hanging off the ceiling, he grasped the phone in one hand, the other hand signaling for silence.

"Ororo?"

"Kurt, is that you?"

"Ja.  You find something?"  The others started to gather round.

"Xavier can't find her telepathically, he thinks she's shielding somehow.  But he got Remy to help him out and they have a location: Chicago.  I know it's a bit vague, but it's the best the professor could do.  Perhaps when Remy wakes up he'll be able to give a more precise location, but until then."

"Wait a second.  Remy's hurt?  Silver, will he be okay?"

"I think so…" her voice wavered.  "Jean chased me out of the way."

"Okay.  Keep in touch if you find out anything else."

Kurt handed the phone to Brightling, then bamfed out of the house. 

"And where does he think he's going?" asked Raven.

Brightling rolled her eyes.  "Chicago.  He's in the garage, you can still catch him."

Raven headed out the door, muttering to herself, and Logan followed.  Brightling turned her attention back to the phone.

"Ororo, please tell me that Cajun idiot didn't do what I think he did.  He still unconscious?"

"Yes.  Brightling, what aren't you telling me?"


 "It's more about what Remy wasn't telling you.  He could have killed himself pulling a stunt like that, Silver.  Why do you think Shadow spent so much time with him just working on shielding.  He doesn't have the empathic finesse needed for detection – let alone manipulation, without dropping his shields.  Drops his shields, and he's vulnerable to all kinds of backlash."

"I see."  Storm's tone was icy.

"When he wakes up, you give him a piece of your mind.  Then let me know, and I'll give him a piece of mine."

Rogue shivered, pulling what meager clothing she had around her.  Her stomach was persistently reminding her that she was out of money and hadn't eaten since she'd left home.

~You think you've got problems, honey?  I'm dead!~

And then there was the caustic voice of Carol Danvers, roaming around inside her brain.  The same mental exercises Shadow had taught her kept the other woman's mind at bay for short periods of time, but she'd come back, threatening to destroy Rogue, one way or another.

There was a church on the corner, its lights lit up, and she slipped inside.  Evening mass was about to start and although having people around made her jumpy, the church at least offered warmth and protection from the wind.

The sermon was on the topic of forgiveness, which both parts of her dual-mind found amusing.  The part that was Rogue wandered, inevitably, onto the subject of Kurt.  He had such strong faith – faith in God, and faith in her.  In part, she wished he was by her side; keeping her warm, making her whole again.  As soon as that thought came into her mind, she pushed it away.  She'd only end up hurting him again.

The part that was Carol Danvers just paced back and forth within the confines of her mental prison. 

~For gods sake, girl, stop feeling sorry for yourself and get us some food!  I'll be damned if I have to die a _second_ time because you're too busy beating yourself over the head with a metaphorical stick.  All you took for me – strength and power you've never dreamed of – and you're starving us to death and freezing our ass off to boot.  Not particularly grateful, are you?~

~Would ya prefer Ah was grateful?  That Ah was glad Ah killed ya?~  Rogue shot back.

That silenced Carol, for the moment, and Rogue was alone with her memories, and her tears.