Rogue stood up slowly, keeping one hand on her head. "Jeesh, Jean. That memory was a, like a, like a brick wall. I didn't know what . . ." She looked around in disbelief. "Hit me?"
The sky above pulsated with light, mostly white, but with every color of the rainbow as well. The ground below her, for as far as she could see, looked as though it were in fact a brick wall that had been laid on it's side. Dotted with real trees, shrubs, fire hydrants, and the occasional one of each that was made out of brick.
And suddenly, Rogue spied the little girl. She was blonde and wore a wide smile. "Come on." She waved that Rogue should approach her. "It's this way." But the girl had vanished and the voice had come from behind her. Rogue whipped around.
And the girl was standing in the distance behind her. "She's over here." The girl called. "You have to come get her."
"Who?" Rogue called back. "Who's over there?" She was distracted by a brick cloud floating lazily by.
The little girl appeared at her side and startled her. "Why, Jean. Of course." She looked in to the distance. "She shouldn't come back here."
"Why not?" Rogue kneeled down and went to touch the girl on the shoulder.
"Oh, no." The girl jumped away. "You must never touch me." The girl warned, motioning side to side with one finger." She leaned in to whisper without tone, but loudly, as children do "Not even with your gloves on." And she shook her head, a mixed look of fright and concern on her face.
"Oh, Okay." Rogue had pulled her hand back to her chest. "Take me to Jean." She said.
And for a moment the ground seemed to shift under them, and they seemed to move not at all, and then they were in a park, watching a little red haired girl playing in a sandbox.
She was dumping a full bucket over, and lifting it off, trying to begin a sandcastle. The sand however seemed to be made of small, polished, round granules of red brick and refused to hold a shape. The girl made a pouty face and looked like she might cry.
"She's really tired." The first girl said. "She needs a nap."
The girl in the sandbox shot her friend a dirty look.
"I do not." The red haired girl said – and when she spoke, Rogue could tell. It was Jean.
"Jean?" Rogue asked, lowering herself to see the girl. "Is that you?"
Jean cocked her head and considered. She then pointed one little finger at the white shock of Rogues hair. "Rogue." Was all she said.
Rogue shrugged to herself. "Okay." She turned back toward the other little girl, but discovered that she was now standing directly opposite her, across the sandbox.
"You have to take her home now." The little girl said. "It's not safe for her to stay anymore."
"But how do ah get there. I don't even know where ah am."
"This is how she thought it happened." The little girl said. "The last time we played together was here. " She looked at the sandbox. "And she thought that if we had just stayed here, if she had just stayed with me . . ." The little girl suddenly looked very serious and her eyes betrayed a fierce and adult intelligence. "But she was wrong. And I told her so. And she cried and she ran down the path and she went home." The little girl looked outraged. "So why did you help her come back?" She was shaking all over, her little hands clenched in to fists.
"Ah, I think it was an accident." Rogue told her slowly. "We didn't mean to come here."
"Then you have to go." The little girl said, this time from just beyond Rogue's left elbow. The girl made a sweeping motion with her arm. As a result, many of the bricks that made up the ground behind her began to sink, forming a path several inches deeper than the surroundings. It led out of sight past a large brick tree, covered in brick leaves that swayed with some imaginary breeze.
Rogue looked back at 'Jean'. "Is it safe to touch her?" Rogue asked the girl.
But the girl was gone. A giggle did echo through the playground, followed by the girls voice. "Of course." She said, and giggled again. "She's is still alive. " She said matter-of-factly.
And Rogue looked at the tired and sad little girl in the sandbox.
And she picked her up.
Back in the real world Hank McCoy lowered himself in to his chair.
He was exhausted but comforted. Forge had arrived, bearing gifts no less, and after explaining them and helping to install several, he promptly fell asleep in an out of the way chair.
Beast looked at the clock. It was almost four a.m.
Please. He thought absently, Let her slowed metabolism be the reason for the length of these effects. And he inhaled deeply, dropped his head, and began massaging the bridge of his nose.
Rogue stood up and turned toward the path. And she was distracted by a hissing noise behind her.
She cast an eye over her shoulder, back to the sandbox. It was as thought someone had pulled a plug from the bottom and the sand was flowing out like an hourglass. Then the hole began to expand.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Rogue breathed, turning and sprinting down the path as the sandbox fell in to itself and disappeared.
And then Rogue realized that the path was circular, tracing itself (and the hole) in an ever expanding spiral.
A panic gripped her and she clutched Jean close with one arm and pumped her legs in a mad effort to escape. But the more she tried to escape, the slower she seemed to be going. She felt as if she were going numb from some almost undetectable vibration, and losing her ability to focus.
And then she noticed that the bricks were falling away from right behind, and then right under her feet as she tried to run. She was losing ground.
But then there was a light, still distant and vague, but she made for it all the same.
One, two, three agonizing steps later, she realized it was a stained glass window, depicting a door.
Jean was screaming, reaching back over Rogues shoulder toward the now vanished park and sandbox. The dull roar of raining brick filled both of their ears. Rogue felt her footing giving way and with one last ounce of strength she threw herself toward the window.
Rogue pulled Jean in close and shielded her from the impact. She lashed out with a ferocious kick and broke the window in front of them.
And suddenly she felt as though it were not the window that was breaking, but herself. She was shaking apart. And the noise of the glass as it shattered, while it sounded like glass breaking, was also very obviously a million voices speaking all at once. Rogue recognized a handful as she passed, and they jumped out at her.
"Oh, darlin, Just – wake – up."
" . . .and she's really been trying, so please, God?"
"Again Charles. If you'd be so kind."
"This is unjust!"
"I hope you're a star."
"What if she dies?"
Ow! I wish I hadn't said that.
"We have to have faith."
'thank you'
"Strive to be happy."
"This is not her time"
"Shouldn't we know what it's all about?"
They're all so young.
"It's because you don't like Jean, Now isn't it?"
"Try not to hurt other people."
"I keep a mean secret."
"But I vant to look out for you."
"This is all very political, right?"
"I just know she isn't done with this life yet. . ."
"… And hope to fall in love."
One of Forges machines began to repeat a signal. Hank rose expectantly from his chair and looked in anticipation towards the next room. Forge smiled, rolled over and continued to sleep. Somewhere upstairs a candle quietly burned itself out.
Hank shuffled quickly towards the still motionless Rogue.
He thought he had seen her eyelids flutter. A moment later he was sure, as they did it again. "Rogue." He said softly, taking her hand. "I'm here Rogue. Can you hear me?" he squeezed her hand softly and she squeezed back as her eyelids fluttered again, and opened this time.
She looked at him and smiled, took a deep breath and sat slowly forward.
"What does a girl have to do to get some waffles around here?" She asked. "Ah'm famished."
EPILOGUE:
"Hello, this is Professor Charles Xavier again. Please disregard my last message. The situation has been resolved and she is now feeling much more her old self again. We expect her to be back in classes on this coming Tuesday. Please feel free to call should there be any further concerns, questions or issues that need to be addressed. Thank you."
Click.