Disclaimer: I wish.

A/N: You like me! You really like me! *sniffs* I wasn't even planning on letting the story go past the first chapter, it was just an idea I was playing with, but...*sniffs* anyway, yeah.

ONE MORE THING! This one's got a rather detailed, um, description of blood and gore, etc, so if ya don't like that kind of thing, um, skip it.

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The front door flew open, and a somewhat-tired Pietro and a rather concerned Agatha entered the house and made their way to the living room.

"About time!" muttered Wanda as she glared at her brother's panting figure.

"Child, do not be upset. He did the best he was able," said Agatha in a calming voice. "Now, please tell me, what happened."

Everyone looked at Bobby for an answer.

Bobby looked at Rogue, who sighed. "Well, there was an attack at the Institute, an' Bobby an' Jamie an' me were the only ones to survahve, Ah think, and Jamie's hurt bad, and Bobby's hurt, too."

"Thank you, child," Agatha replied. Surprisingly, Rogue did not react to being called a child, as she would have under normal circumstances. "Now, please, if everyone save Wanda will leave the room, I will tend to the injuries." Everyone started towards the door. "Not you, young man--Bobby, is it? You are wounded." Bobby returned to his seat. Rogue grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly before exiting with the others.

Agatha turned first to Jamie, to examine the severity of his wounds. She nearly gasped, for they were far worse than she had thought--indeed, worse than anyone knew. A knife or sharp object had sliced part of his throat open, narrowly missing his jugular and trachea. His chest and stomach were criscrossed with cuts and slashes, some deep, some not. The deepest one had obviously pierced his liver slightly--only slightly, but still deeply enough to be oozing bile and give reason to fear internal bleeding. His palms and fingers were also slashed--defensive wounds. Agatha gave an imperceptible smile; the boy had fought against his attacker, which means he had wanted to live.

She turned to Bobby and spoke a few words in a mysterious language. Almost instantly he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Turning back to Wanda, she said, "Wanda, I want you to watch and learn from this. It may be useful some day." With that, she placed her hands on Jamie's forehead and began to chant the first of many spells that would be cast that day.

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Rogue had wandered outside and was sitting on the porch steps. She was worried about Jamie--she had liked the little guy. He was one of the few people at the Institute who hadn't been bothered by the 'no-touching' rule. He had still followed her around and talked to her; he had treated her like a normal person. Kitty, Kurt, and to an extent, Bobby, had been the only others to not care about her power. It had touched her deeply, and now, he could be dying.

Footsteps sounded behind her, but she didn't turn around. "Yo, you ok?"

Todd's concern made her smile. He had done his best to make her feel included and comfortable when she had first joined the Brotherhood, and she was comforted to know that he still cared. "Yeah, Toad, Ah'm fahne. Kinda tahred, but fahne," she lied. She didn't want pity right now, or sympathy.

"Well, ok, um, if ya need anything, you know where it all is, ok,?" he replied uncertainly.

"Yeah, thanks," she said, forcing warmth into her voice. After all, he was only trying to help.

Todd, still not sure if she was ok, hopped off; knowing that she wanted to be left alone. Others, however, had a different idea.

"Roguey, you're not ok. Why lie about it?" Pietro asked as he sat beside her.

She scooted a few inches away--not many, but enough. "Why lie? Because if Ah don't, Ah'll have to admit that someone Ah care about is dyin and there's jack squat Ah can do about it! That's why!" she practically yelled at him.

"Roguey, it's ok to feel scared," he said.

"Not for me, it isn't. Ah'm Rogue. Nothin' scares me," she responded, avoiding his eyes.

"Bull. You're scared that he won't make it," Pietro said softly.

Rogue didn't respond and stared straight ahead, but it was clear from her expression that she was doing her best not to cry. She nearly succeeded, but a single tear rolled down her cheek. Pietro looked at her and his heart broke; he could see just how hard this whole thing had been, and would be, for her. Reaching out, he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her near. She laid her head on his shoulder, not speaking, not moving, just staring into the dawn light.

"You know, Roguey, your reputation as the Ice Queen would be shot if someone saw you right now," he said.

She chuckled. "Yeah, but mah reputation for revenge is such that if they did see me, they wouldn't dare say a thang about it."

Pietro suppressed a shudder; he remembered when Rogue had switched his hair gel for Crisco, it hadn't come out for a week and a half. And when she had dyed Lance's hair pink and purple..."Yeah, no kidding," he said.

They talked for awhile longer, about old times when they had both been with the Brotherhood, and told each other stories about events that had happened when the other wasn't in the Brotherhood. Soon, though, Rogue's responses had grown shorter and quieter, and Pietro looked down to see that she had fallen asleep. Smiling, he picked her up gently and carried her inside. He laid her on the bed in his room, and left; he would sleep on the floor in Lance's room.

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That afternoon, Rogue staggered down the stairs, still sleepy, but determined to help take care of Jamie and Bobby. When she walked into the living room, Agatha was still there, preparing to leave.

"How are they?" Rogue asked anxiously, seeing Bobby sleeping on one sofa, Jamie on the other.

"That one," Agatha replied, indicating Bobby, "will be fine when he wakes sometime tomorrow, although he will be rather hungry and somewhat stiff. The other," Agatha sighed, sadness apparent in her voice, "I have done all I can; the rest is up to him."

"D'ya think he'll make it?" Rogue asked, not bothering to conceal her worry.

"I think he very well might. He has a very strong desire to live, and that, child, is the most important thing of all."

Agatha smiled kindly at Rogue, and walked silently to the door and let herself out.

Rogue had not noticed Agatha's quiet departure; she had taken a seat next to Jamie's still form, and, holding his hand, was silently pleading with him to live.


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