Disclaimer: I still don't own them...
Dreams
Chapter 10
She walked across the grass, which was still damp from the morning dew. A tiny blanket of fog obscured the ground from view, but she dug her toes deep into the dirt as she continued to make her way toward the river. She had walked this path many times before during her unhappy childhood; it seemed quite ironic that she stood on the same path now.
Rogue tipped her head back and looked up into the clear night sky. The full moon filtered through the canopy of trees, lighting her way. Stars shone like illuminated holes punched into a black sheet. Her short auburn hair was teased by the gentle breeze. Spanish moss swayed from the long branches of the huge willow trees as the sound of running water rang strongly in her ears. Grasping onto the low branch of an oak tree, she ducked under it and came to a complete stop.
A young girl was already sitting on her favorite rock, skipping pebbles across the river. The child turned her head slightly and regarded her with sad green eyes. Closing her eyes, the young girl swung back around and picked up a small flat stone. The girl's long auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail, stray fly-aways framing her small face. She wore a pair of faded overalls with a pale, threadbare yellow undershirt. It only took Rogue a couple of seconds to realize she was staring at herself.
Rogue pushed away from the tree and clasping her hands behind her back, she made her way toward the younger version of herself.
"You're early."
The young girl's voice echoed off the trees, causing Rogue's eyes to widen slightly. Shaking off the eerie feeling of talking to herself, she stopped a few feet away. "Ah'm early?" she questioned; not really sure what was happening.
Her younger self turned to face her and motioned to the ground beside the rock she was perched on. Taking the motion as an invitation, Rogue walked over and sat down Indian style on the moss-covered bank, facing the child.
"Whatcha mean by 'You're early'?"
The girl continued to rub the flat stone between her thumb and forefinger, her green eyes staring out over the river. "It's not your time, yet."
Rogue stared at the child and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before she addressed herself. "Time?" she huffed, "It doesn't matter, does it? Now or later. Ah'm bound to cross this bridge sooner or later. Ah might as well get it over with now." Pulling her knees up, she wrapped her arms around them, bringing them closer to her body. Staring up at herself, Rogue felt more like a child then a grown adult.
Sighing, the young Rogue tossed the flat stone she had been holding at her. "What do you see?"
Rogue caught the pebble in her hand before it hit the ground. She opened her palm and looked down at the stone. "Just a piece of rock."
"Look deeper."
Running her thumb over the smooth stone, Rogue brought her brows together as she focused down at the object in her hand. "A small ordinary, gray flat stone."
"We'll never get anywhere with this current train of thought."
Rogue tilted her head up slightly and found the child staring at her with determination glowing in her green eyes. The child seemed wiser then the way Rogue remembered herself at that age. Turning away from the child's intense gaze, her fingers closed tightly around the pebble and pulling her arm back, she tossed the pebble into the river. Once it hit the river's surface, ripples began to appear.
"Look." The younger version of herself ordered. She motioned Rogue with her finger, pointing to the ripples as they spread out from the center, moving across the water. "Each ordinary stone can cause ripples in the river of life; altering the course of the water in one way or another."
"But the ripples will eventually disappear after a while and the river will go back to just the way it was before." Rogue countered as she watched the small ripples spread into huge concentric circles, fading as they progressed and eventually disappearing.
The breeze seemed to carry a silence between them that stretched on for a while. Finally, the young girl spoke. "No, things will never go back to the way they once were. The river's been forever changed." Ignoring the disbelieving look that her older self was sending her, the child rolled her eyes and continued. "Rogue, look at the river. To the exact spot where the pebble lies."
Rogue smirked and searched out the place right beyond the bank where the light gray stone laid under the clear water.
"Though the ripples have disappeared, the stone lies at the bottom of the river, changing it forever. The stone was not there before, but by placing it in the water, you've changed the river the moment the stone touched the water. And it will forever stay that way. You see, even the smallest ordinary stone can change the course of life."
Rogue hung her head, placing her forehead on her knees. She tilted her head to the side as she gazed upon two silver stones. A puzzled look worked its way across her face as she reached down and gently picked them up into her hand. Straightening, she pushed herself off the ground and held her hand out toward the child. The stones felt warm to the touch and made her smile. Rogue couldn't explain it, but somehow these stones held something special, something important. She opened her mouth to ask what was the significance of these two stones, when the fog started to grow thick around them.
Standing up on the rock, the child finally turned fully around to face Rogue. "I believe someone is searching for you."
Rogue listened careful over the sound of the running water, chirping crickets and the calls of the night owl and heard him faintly calling.
"Rogue, chere, come back to me."
She turned toward the path that lead her to the river and found a shadowy figure outlined in the mist. His hands were outstretched, begging for her to come to him. Without thinking, Rogue started running down the path toward him, but stopped about half way. Quickly spinning around, she faced herself again
"What does this mean? What do the last two rocks mean?"
As the child began to fade into the fog, Rogue heard the sound of the child's laughter.
Turning back to the figure in the shadows, she ran down the path with the two stones still clutched in her hand. As she felt his arms wrap around her, Rogue felt the ground pull out from underneath her and she fell.
****************
Remy stopped himself from trying to grasp her ungloved hand as it lay beside her on the white sheets. Pushing out of the uncomfortable chair, he placed his hands behind his back and arched his spine, trying to work the knots out of his muscles. As he paced the room, his gaze never left her pale face. Her thick lashes fanned out across her checks; her hair spread out on the pillow. He rubbed his hands over his weary face; she looked awful.
Half her face was hidden underneath heavy white bandages; the other half was covered in cuts and bruises. Her left arm was wrapped tightly with gauze; an IV taped to the inside of her right elbow. Jean had said that they had to bind her chest due to a couple of broken ribs; those bandages were barely peeking above the blanket. The only sounds in the room came from the machines; one of which helped her breath, the other which displayed ever-single beat of her heart. Remy found comfort in the constant beeps that resounded in the room.
If he closed his eyes, the smell of death would assault his nose, her groans of pain would ring in his ears, and the sight of her as she passed out in the blood soaked grass continued to haunt him even now. Jean and Hank had been able to repair all of the damage done by the raptors, but she still hadn't come out of the coma, three days later.
Sighing, he walked over to the far wall and leaned his back against it, allowing his head to fall back. Remy stared up at the lights in the ward and tried to figure out the one piece of the puzzle, which he still didn't understand. In an attempt to save her life, Logan had touched her, trying to transfer his powers to her, but it hadn't worked. Hardly believing what he had been seeing, he had trailed his thumb across Rogue's cheek, feeling how cold and clammy her skin felt under his touch.
His touch.
It had taken an act that nearly killed her for him to be able to touch her. Clenching his fist, he swung his arm forward, allowing it to fall back hard against the wall. A split second after she passed out, Logan had tried to touch her again, this time his powers were slightly drained, helping Rogue's body to begin to heal. But the mere touch of her skin, as deathly as it may have been, felt like a piece of heaven, taking him back to the time when trapped in Antarctica they had been able to finally show their true emotions.
The sound of the door opening drew him from his thoughts, opening his eyes he found Logan lounging against the doorframe.
"Any change?"
Remy could hear the concern underneath the growl of the man's voice. Though Logan wasn't known for his displays of affection, he did care for Rogue. He'd admitted that he liked to think of Rogue as a younger sister; one that constantly got into one scrap or another and needed someone to keep her straight.
"Not yet." Remy pushed away from the wall and moved back to the chair positioned next to Rogue's bed. He found himself reaching out to brush a wayward strand of hair from her face, but he stopped himself short, biting his bottom lip as he placed his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands.
Logan took a long look at the young woman lying in the hospital bed. "Don't worry, Gumbo. She's been through worse and made it out alive." Rapping his fist up against the doorframe, Logan pushed away from the room, the sound of his boots echoing down the hall.
As Logan's heavy footsteps grew fainter, Remy returned his attention back to Rogue. Leaning over to the bed, he placed his lips next to her ear. "Rogue, chere, come back to me."
If it hadn't been for the fact that he had been hovering over her, he would have missed the small flutter of her eyes. Red eyes widened with joy as he leaned close to her again and called her name. Intently, Remy watched as the muscles on her face pinched together, like she was mad at something. He looked down at her one more time, before making his way over to the intercom on the wall.
***************
"Fascinating... And yet, hardly reassuring."
Dr. Hank McCoy flipped through one of the notebooks that Remy had brought back from the abandoned lab in Antarctica. Mixed within the yellowed pages where a number of experiments; failed experiments. It was a complete scientific journal, with the scribbled notes of Magnus himself.
Detailed on each page were all of the processes that he had attempted to save Rogue's life. There was mention of genetic mutations, gene splicing, DNA cloning, infusions, transfusions...the list continued on. The last entry in the book talked about defeat in everything he had tried so far.
The subject's blood showed no response to the antibodies. Other methods have also failed in a attempt to change the mutated DNA sequence, only to have the sequence begin replicating faster than its initial state. Due to our trials, the subject's life expectancy has been decreased from the estimates established at the beginning of the procedures. It's in everyone's best interest that further attempt to stop the progression of the subject's powers to be halted, for fear of causing more damage.
Lying the book down on his desk, Hank pulled the glass off his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. Nothing. There was nothing in the journals that could help him determine what to do about Rogue out of control powers. Magnus had tried every new and experimental procedure to try and reverse the mutation in Rogue's DNA, but he ended up hurting her more than helping her; that much could be seen in tone the notes.
Hank's eyes roamed around the room. The lab was full of all the newest scientific developments, but he wasn't sure that even those could hold the key to saving Rogue's life.
A shrill noise broke the choking silence in the lab. Reaching over to the intercom, Hank pressed the blinking red button. "Yes?"
"She's wakin' up."
Remy's voice was a mix of hopefulness and concern as it came across the intercom. It pained Hank to hear his friend's distress. "Have her vital signs been stable?"
"The entire time."
"Okay, I'll be up in a few minutes."
Turning to the keyboard, Hank saved the typed notes he had been compiling on Rogue's condition and possible solutions. With a few clicks of the mouse, the computer began to shut down. The feet of the chair screamed against the tiled floor as he pushed away from his desk, leaving Magnus' notebooks lying in a helpless pile next to the computer.
Hank grabbed his lab coat off the back of the wooden chair and made his way across the room, turning off all the lights along his way. Just as he was about to pull the door closed behind him, the lab was filled with a soft blue light. His eyebrows came together in a puzzled look as he looked back at his desk, finding the monitor and computer booting up.
Sighing, Hank moved back into the darkened room to turn off the computer. Taking the mouse in his hand, he clicked on the 'Start' icon, followed by the 'Shut Down' command. A prompt appeared on the screen, giving him a selection of options; either to 'Restart' or 'Shut Down.'
Like a storm during the summertime, the idea burst down on him.
Leaving the computer hanging for an answer to it's question, Hank rushed out of the lab and headed down the corridor in the direction of the medical wing.
****************
Bright lights greeted her semi-opened eyes. The room swam around her like the murky waters of the Mississippi, as she tried to push herself up into a seated position.
"Did somebody get the name of that truck that hit me?"
A familiar chuckle drifted across the room; it sounded like music to her ears.
"It wasn't no truck that hit ya, chere. A big fat lizard, but no truck."
The same voice that had pulled her out of her dream, now teased her during her worst hour.
Slowly turning her head, Rogue glanced towards the doorway. "Watch it, Cajun. Once Ah'm back on my feet, ya better be ready for a serious ass kickin'."
Instead of fighting back with words, like he was known for, Remy sent her a lazy smile that seemed to say 'I'd like to see you try.' She couldn't seem to stop herself from smiling back.
Neither one of them said a word after the exchange; neither of them wanted to. There was so much to be said, but yet, none of it could be put into words. Instead, they communicated with their eyes, letting each other see what the other was trying to so hard to say. The silence of the room wrapped around both of them like a comfortable blanket; a security blanket.
It was how Logan, Hank and the Professor found them when they entered the room.
"Looks like this is turning into a regular party. Did anyone bring the chips and dip, because Ah'm starving!"
Her attempt at light humor seemed to fall flat on its face. No one laughed, they all looked at her with grim expressions. "Come on, it's not that bad." She motioned over her body. "Just a couple of bumps and bruises, nothing to be concerned about."
Logan sent her a look that made her feel like a child that had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Wincing, she turned to the Professor, looking for some sign in his face that things were going to be okay. Her heart sunk lower in her chest when he locked his gaze with hers, and in his mind's eye told her not to fear what was about to be said.
"Okay, Hank." Remy started as he moved to Rogue's bedside. "Tell me that the journals I brought back are goin' be of some help to ya."
Clearing his throat, Hank turned to address them. "I'm afraid not my friend. However, the answer is simple."
Rogue ran a hand through her bangs, careful not to knock out the IV. "What's 'simple' Hank?" Her eyes lit up. "Do ya have a cure?"
She watched him nod, but it was the look in his eyes that didn't have her jumping off the hospital bed jumping with joy. It was a pained look, one that made Rogue realize that she wasn't going to like his answer.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Remy standing beside her. She wanted to reach out and take hold of the hand that he was offering her, but not knowing where her powers stood at that moment, she was content to clasp them together in her lap, and let her fingernails dig into her skin. Rogue tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice. "Hank?"
There was a pregnant pause before her friend looked at her with sorrowful eyes.
"We let you die."
Dreams
Chapter 10
She walked across the grass, which was still damp from the morning dew. A tiny blanket of fog obscured the ground from view, but she dug her toes deep into the dirt as she continued to make her way toward the river. She had walked this path many times before during her unhappy childhood; it seemed quite ironic that she stood on the same path now.
Rogue tipped her head back and looked up into the clear night sky. The full moon filtered through the canopy of trees, lighting her way. Stars shone like illuminated holes punched into a black sheet. Her short auburn hair was teased by the gentle breeze. Spanish moss swayed from the long branches of the huge willow trees as the sound of running water rang strongly in her ears. Grasping onto the low branch of an oak tree, she ducked under it and came to a complete stop.
A young girl was already sitting on her favorite rock, skipping pebbles across the river. The child turned her head slightly and regarded her with sad green eyes. Closing her eyes, the young girl swung back around and picked up a small flat stone. The girl's long auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail, stray fly-aways framing her small face. She wore a pair of faded overalls with a pale, threadbare yellow undershirt. It only took Rogue a couple of seconds to realize she was staring at herself.
Rogue pushed away from the tree and clasping her hands behind her back, she made her way toward the younger version of herself.
"You're early."
The young girl's voice echoed off the trees, causing Rogue's eyes to widen slightly. Shaking off the eerie feeling of talking to herself, she stopped a few feet away. "Ah'm early?" she questioned; not really sure what was happening.
Her younger self turned to face her and motioned to the ground beside the rock she was perched on. Taking the motion as an invitation, Rogue walked over and sat down Indian style on the moss-covered bank, facing the child.
"Whatcha mean by 'You're early'?"
The girl continued to rub the flat stone between her thumb and forefinger, her green eyes staring out over the river. "It's not your time, yet."
Rogue stared at the child and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before she addressed herself. "Time?" she huffed, "It doesn't matter, does it? Now or later. Ah'm bound to cross this bridge sooner or later. Ah might as well get it over with now." Pulling her knees up, she wrapped her arms around them, bringing them closer to her body. Staring up at herself, Rogue felt more like a child then a grown adult.
Sighing, the young Rogue tossed the flat stone she had been holding at her. "What do you see?"
Rogue caught the pebble in her hand before it hit the ground. She opened her palm and looked down at the stone. "Just a piece of rock."
"Look deeper."
Running her thumb over the smooth stone, Rogue brought her brows together as she focused down at the object in her hand. "A small ordinary, gray flat stone."
"We'll never get anywhere with this current train of thought."
Rogue tilted her head up slightly and found the child staring at her with determination glowing in her green eyes. The child seemed wiser then the way Rogue remembered herself at that age. Turning away from the child's intense gaze, her fingers closed tightly around the pebble and pulling her arm back, she tossed the pebble into the river. Once it hit the river's surface, ripples began to appear.
"Look." The younger version of herself ordered. She motioned Rogue with her finger, pointing to the ripples as they spread out from the center, moving across the water. "Each ordinary stone can cause ripples in the river of life; altering the course of the water in one way or another."
"But the ripples will eventually disappear after a while and the river will go back to just the way it was before." Rogue countered as she watched the small ripples spread into huge concentric circles, fading as they progressed and eventually disappearing.
The breeze seemed to carry a silence between them that stretched on for a while. Finally, the young girl spoke. "No, things will never go back to the way they once were. The river's been forever changed." Ignoring the disbelieving look that her older self was sending her, the child rolled her eyes and continued. "Rogue, look at the river. To the exact spot where the pebble lies."
Rogue smirked and searched out the place right beyond the bank where the light gray stone laid under the clear water.
"Though the ripples have disappeared, the stone lies at the bottom of the river, changing it forever. The stone was not there before, but by placing it in the water, you've changed the river the moment the stone touched the water. And it will forever stay that way. You see, even the smallest ordinary stone can change the course of life."
Rogue hung her head, placing her forehead on her knees. She tilted her head to the side as she gazed upon two silver stones. A puzzled look worked its way across her face as she reached down and gently picked them up into her hand. Straightening, she pushed herself off the ground and held her hand out toward the child. The stones felt warm to the touch and made her smile. Rogue couldn't explain it, but somehow these stones held something special, something important. She opened her mouth to ask what was the significance of these two stones, when the fog started to grow thick around them.
Standing up on the rock, the child finally turned fully around to face Rogue. "I believe someone is searching for you."
Rogue listened careful over the sound of the running water, chirping crickets and the calls of the night owl and heard him faintly calling.
"Rogue, chere, come back to me."
She turned toward the path that lead her to the river and found a shadowy figure outlined in the mist. His hands were outstretched, begging for her to come to him. Without thinking, Rogue started running down the path toward him, but stopped about half way. Quickly spinning around, she faced herself again
"What does this mean? What do the last two rocks mean?"
As the child began to fade into the fog, Rogue heard the sound of the child's laughter.
Turning back to the figure in the shadows, she ran down the path with the two stones still clutched in her hand. As she felt his arms wrap around her, Rogue felt the ground pull out from underneath her and she fell.
****************
Remy stopped himself from trying to grasp her ungloved hand as it lay beside her on the white sheets. Pushing out of the uncomfortable chair, he placed his hands behind his back and arched his spine, trying to work the knots out of his muscles. As he paced the room, his gaze never left her pale face. Her thick lashes fanned out across her checks; her hair spread out on the pillow. He rubbed his hands over his weary face; she looked awful.
Half her face was hidden underneath heavy white bandages; the other half was covered in cuts and bruises. Her left arm was wrapped tightly with gauze; an IV taped to the inside of her right elbow. Jean had said that they had to bind her chest due to a couple of broken ribs; those bandages were barely peeking above the blanket. The only sounds in the room came from the machines; one of which helped her breath, the other which displayed ever-single beat of her heart. Remy found comfort in the constant beeps that resounded in the room.
If he closed his eyes, the smell of death would assault his nose, her groans of pain would ring in his ears, and the sight of her as she passed out in the blood soaked grass continued to haunt him even now. Jean and Hank had been able to repair all of the damage done by the raptors, but she still hadn't come out of the coma, three days later.
Sighing, he walked over to the far wall and leaned his back against it, allowing his head to fall back. Remy stared up at the lights in the ward and tried to figure out the one piece of the puzzle, which he still didn't understand. In an attempt to save her life, Logan had touched her, trying to transfer his powers to her, but it hadn't worked. Hardly believing what he had been seeing, he had trailed his thumb across Rogue's cheek, feeling how cold and clammy her skin felt under his touch.
His touch.
It had taken an act that nearly killed her for him to be able to touch her. Clenching his fist, he swung his arm forward, allowing it to fall back hard against the wall. A split second after she passed out, Logan had tried to touch her again, this time his powers were slightly drained, helping Rogue's body to begin to heal. But the mere touch of her skin, as deathly as it may have been, felt like a piece of heaven, taking him back to the time when trapped in Antarctica they had been able to finally show their true emotions.
The sound of the door opening drew him from his thoughts, opening his eyes he found Logan lounging against the doorframe.
"Any change?"
Remy could hear the concern underneath the growl of the man's voice. Though Logan wasn't known for his displays of affection, he did care for Rogue. He'd admitted that he liked to think of Rogue as a younger sister; one that constantly got into one scrap or another and needed someone to keep her straight.
"Not yet." Remy pushed away from the wall and moved back to the chair positioned next to Rogue's bed. He found himself reaching out to brush a wayward strand of hair from her face, but he stopped himself short, biting his bottom lip as he placed his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands.
Logan took a long look at the young woman lying in the hospital bed. "Don't worry, Gumbo. She's been through worse and made it out alive." Rapping his fist up against the doorframe, Logan pushed away from the room, the sound of his boots echoing down the hall.
As Logan's heavy footsteps grew fainter, Remy returned his attention back to Rogue. Leaning over to the bed, he placed his lips next to her ear. "Rogue, chere, come back to me."
If it hadn't been for the fact that he had been hovering over her, he would have missed the small flutter of her eyes. Red eyes widened with joy as he leaned close to her again and called her name. Intently, Remy watched as the muscles on her face pinched together, like she was mad at something. He looked down at her one more time, before making his way over to the intercom on the wall.
***************
"Fascinating... And yet, hardly reassuring."
Dr. Hank McCoy flipped through one of the notebooks that Remy had brought back from the abandoned lab in Antarctica. Mixed within the yellowed pages where a number of experiments; failed experiments. It was a complete scientific journal, with the scribbled notes of Magnus himself.
Detailed on each page were all of the processes that he had attempted to save Rogue's life. There was mention of genetic mutations, gene splicing, DNA cloning, infusions, transfusions...the list continued on. The last entry in the book talked about defeat in everything he had tried so far.
The subject's blood showed no response to the antibodies. Other methods have also failed in a attempt to change the mutated DNA sequence, only to have the sequence begin replicating faster than its initial state. Due to our trials, the subject's life expectancy has been decreased from the estimates established at the beginning of the procedures. It's in everyone's best interest that further attempt to stop the progression of the subject's powers to be halted, for fear of causing more damage.
Lying the book down on his desk, Hank pulled the glass off his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. Nothing. There was nothing in the journals that could help him determine what to do about Rogue out of control powers. Magnus had tried every new and experimental procedure to try and reverse the mutation in Rogue's DNA, but he ended up hurting her more than helping her; that much could be seen in tone the notes.
Hank's eyes roamed around the room. The lab was full of all the newest scientific developments, but he wasn't sure that even those could hold the key to saving Rogue's life.
A shrill noise broke the choking silence in the lab. Reaching over to the intercom, Hank pressed the blinking red button. "Yes?"
"She's wakin' up."
Remy's voice was a mix of hopefulness and concern as it came across the intercom. It pained Hank to hear his friend's distress. "Have her vital signs been stable?"
"The entire time."
"Okay, I'll be up in a few minutes."
Turning to the keyboard, Hank saved the typed notes he had been compiling on Rogue's condition and possible solutions. With a few clicks of the mouse, the computer began to shut down. The feet of the chair screamed against the tiled floor as he pushed away from his desk, leaving Magnus' notebooks lying in a helpless pile next to the computer.
Hank grabbed his lab coat off the back of the wooden chair and made his way across the room, turning off all the lights along his way. Just as he was about to pull the door closed behind him, the lab was filled with a soft blue light. His eyebrows came together in a puzzled look as he looked back at his desk, finding the monitor and computer booting up.
Sighing, Hank moved back into the darkened room to turn off the computer. Taking the mouse in his hand, he clicked on the 'Start' icon, followed by the 'Shut Down' command. A prompt appeared on the screen, giving him a selection of options; either to 'Restart' or 'Shut Down.'
Like a storm during the summertime, the idea burst down on him.
Leaving the computer hanging for an answer to it's question, Hank rushed out of the lab and headed down the corridor in the direction of the medical wing.
****************
Bright lights greeted her semi-opened eyes. The room swam around her like the murky waters of the Mississippi, as she tried to push herself up into a seated position.
"Did somebody get the name of that truck that hit me?"
A familiar chuckle drifted across the room; it sounded like music to her ears.
"It wasn't no truck that hit ya, chere. A big fat lizard, but no truck."
The same voice that had pulled her out of her dream, now teased her during her worst hour.
Slowly turning her head, Rogue glanced towards the doorway. "Watch it, Cajun. Once Ah'm back on my feet, ya better be ready for a serious ass kickin'."
Instead of fighting back with words, like he was known for, Remy sent her a lazy smile that seemed to say 'I'd like to see you try.' She couldn't seem to stop herself from smiling back.
Neither one of them said a word after the exchange; neither of them wanted to. There was so much to be said, but yet, none of it could be put into words. Instead, they communicated with their eyes, letting each other see what the other was trying to so hard to say. The silence of the room wrapped around both of them like a comfortable blanket; a security blanket.
It was how Logan, Hank and the Professor found them when they entered the room.
"Looks like this is turning into a regular party. Did anyone bring the chips and dip, because Ah'm starving!"
Her attempt at light humor seemed to fall flat on its face. No one laughed, they all looked at her with grim expressions. "Come on, it's not that bad." She motioned over her body. "Just a couple of bumps and bruises, nothing to be concerned about."
Logan sent her a look that made her feel like a child that had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Wincing, she turned to the Professor, looking for some sign in his face that things were going to be okay. Her heart sunk lower in her chest when he locked his gaze with hers, and in his mind's eye told her not to fear what was about to be said.
"Okay, Hank." Remy started as he moved to Rogue's bedside. "Tell me that the journals I brought back are goin' be of some help to ya."
Clearing his throat, Hank turned to address them. "I'm afraid not my friend. However, the answer is simple."
Rogue ran a hand through her bangs, careful not to knock out the IV. "What's 'simple' Hank?" Her eyes lit up. "Do ya have a cure?"
She watched him nod, but it was the look in his eyes that didn't have her jumping off the hospital bed jumping with joy. It was a pained look, one that made Rogue realize that she wasn't going to like his answer.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Remy standing beside her. She wanted to reach out and take hold of the hand that he was offering her, but not knowing where her powers stood at that moment, she was content to clasp them together in her lap, and let her fingernails dig into her skin. Rogue tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice. "Hank?"
There was a pregnant pause before her friend looked at her with sorrowful eyes.
"We let you die."