Authors note: A big thank you to everyone who reviewed. Just to warn you,
it's a pretty long one. Once they all got talking, I just couldn't get
them to shut up!
Scott Summers hid a yawn behind his hand as he walked down the corridor. His bare feet padded quietly against the carpet, eyes sore and red-rimmed behind his sunglasses. He frowned. That storm had kept him up all night. He had thought that it would have blown over by the morning, but the heavy presence of rain clouds outside confirmed that the bad weather was settling in. Great.
He turned a corner in the hall and ran into Jean. Literally. The force of the impact sent them both reeling backwards.
Scott was the first to recover. Blinking quickly, he took a step forward and helped to steady Jean. "Jean!" he exclaimed, mortified. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
The pretty senior grimaced, rubbing her head. To his surprise, she was already dressed. It was only seven o'clock. "I'm fine, don't worry about it." She looked up at him and saw that her assurances had done little to make him feel better. She smiled teasingly, "Hey, have you been working out? That chest of yours is pret-ty firm, Mr Summers. I'm impressed."
Was she flirting with him? Scott allowed himself to play with the thought briefly before dismissing it with a shake of his head. Jean just didn't see him that way, end of story. Still, he was pleased that she had noticed. He had, in fact, increased his physical training regime from one hour a day to two. Who knows? Maybe it might help her to change her mind about him -----
-----A man could dream.
He felt his cheeks darkened self-consciously at the compliment. Running a hand through his short, dark hair, he thought quickly for a way to keep the conversation running. They spent so little time together nowadays --- he missed the closeness that they had once shared.
"So----" he rocked restlessly on his heels "Where were you off to in such a hurry? Is Duncan picking you up to drive to school today?"
Please-say-no-please-say-no-please-say-no-
Jean rested one hand on her hip and flicked her hair behind her shoulders. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows drew together in a slight frown. "No. The Professor wants to see us in his study as soon as possible - I was just coming to get you actually."
Scott tilted his head curiously. "This early? What's it about?"
"I'm not sure."
He watched her closely for a moment. She seemed uneasy, worried.
"What's wrong?"
She sighed, pursing her glossy lips together thoughtfully. "I don't know, maybe I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill here. It's just------" she trailed off into silence, steady gaze fixed on the floor.
"Yes?" he prompted.
"Well, Kitty woke me up late last night and asked if she could stay in my room. She had spent the evening doing some homework, and when she went down to her bedroom Rogue had locked the door. She tried to phase through the wall but Rogue got really angry and wouldn't let her in."
Scott's smooth forehead pulled together in a look of confusion. "But I thought that those two were getting along better? Why would Rogue do that?"
Jean shrugged helplessly. "I went down to try and talk to her but she wouldn't even answer me. Kitty was as clueless as I was. I figured that she just needed some time to cool off, so I left it at that. Maybe that's what the Professor wants to talk to us about? What do you think?"
"I guess we won't know until we get there. I can't understand why Rogue would act like that ----- she seemed pretty happy yesterday. Weren't she and Kurt going down some Monster Truck Rally or something?"
She nodded, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. The dreary weather had forced her to done a thick crimson sweater and she unconsciously pulled at the sleeves. "Yeah, I think so. Maybe they had a fight?"
"I was just going to go and get him up for school. I could ask him about it," Scott offered usefully.
"Uh-uh, I already thought of that. He's not in his room."
The young X Men leader paused, frown deepening. A small pang of doubt nagged at the back of his mind - there was defiantly something wrong here. Rogue suddenly flying off the handle and then Kurt leaving his bedroom before seven in the morning? Something wasn't adding up.
He looked up and found himself meeting Jean's eyes. Emerald green and fathomless, she stared at him expectantly. It was his call. No matter what happened, he knew that she would stand by him.
That was why he loved her.
"Let's go see what the Prof has to say before we jump to any conclusions. I'll go and get changed."
Jean nodded once more, smiling warmly. "It'll probably turn out to be something of nothing. I'll tell him that you're coming."
As he turned to walk away, the girls smile faded, quickly replaced with a look of worried thought. Her telepathy was still extremely weak, and after that unfortunate episode a few months ago she had been consciously avoiding using it. Even so, a sense of foreboding danced darkly at the edges of her consciousness. Emotions were running high throughout the Institute ---- she could sense it. She had never felt anything like this before. It disturbed her.
Shivering, she hugged herself tightly.
Ororo Monroe sat in the cool quiet of the greenhouse, staring reflectively into space. Her eyes were dark and unfocused, silver eyebrows pulled together in a look of thought. Despite the cool grey of the morning, her milky coffee skin growled warm gold. She would have made a breathtaking picture; solemn and meditative ---- unearthly beautiful. A true goddess.
This was her place to come and think ---- to rest surrounded by the plants that she so carefully tended ---- to detach herself from the outside world. She had a lot to think of this morning.
Hank paused by the door, oversized hand resting on the doorframe. He had opened his mouth to say something, but somehow remained silent. She looked so serene - surrounded by the waxy leaves of living green - that he suddenly didn't want to disturb her. He hesitated uncertainly.
Slowly, Ororo became aware that she was not alone. She blinked and turned her head. If she was put out by his presence, she did not show it.
"Hank, good morning."
Slightly self-conscious, the man moved further into the room. He moved gorilla like, balancing his weight on his heavy knuckles. Although he was perfectly capable of walking upright, since his mutation he had found this to be the more comfortable way for him to move around.
"I'm sorry ---- I didn't mean to disturb you. Charles is seeing Jean and Scott at the moment and he would like us to go up to his study later."
She nodded. "Alright."
He shrugged one shoulder apologetically, feeling mildly guilty that he had drawn her from her thoughts. He began to move away.
"Hank?"
He paused. "Yes?"
Ororo gestured to the empty seat beside her. "I would appreciate having someone to talk to."
He watched her for a moment, unsure whether she was simply being polite. Finally, he walked into the greenhouse and sat next to her on the warm wooden bench. He towered over the slender woman, his sizable bulk making her look doll-like by comparison. Hank was not fooled however. She could blast him through the wall if she chose to.
"What's on your mind?" Stupid question.
She breathed in the fresh scent of flowers. It soothed her somehow. "I cannot help but worry about Kurt."
The furred man sighed and shook his head wearily. "I know. I couldn't stop thinking about it last night ---- I almost went out and searched for him myself. I'm afraid that I cannot agree with the Professor on this one. We should have told both Kurt and Rogue the moment that we found out the truth. And then to simply let Kurt run away ---- in the state that he was in -----"
"But it's not our decision to make. If Kurt chose to run away from the Institute, then there is nothing that you or I would have been able to do to bring him back - Charles knows that. It wouldn't have done any good to go after him. He simply doesn't trust us anymore."
Hank frowned uneasily, cupping his hands in his lap. "It should have been avoided."
Ororo watched him closely. "We did all that we could. It is now out of our hands."
He lifted his dark eyebrows. "You don't sound too convinced."
She was silent for a moment, jaw firm and unwavering. He knew that he had hit a nerve. Finally, she lowered her gaze.
"I trust in Charles. If he believes that we should give Kurt some time alone, then that is all I need to know."
Hank didn't know how to respond, so he kept quiet. Of course he trusted in the Professors judgment - he always had. When his own mutations were becoming too much to handle, it had been Xavier who he had gone to for help. He trusted him wholeheartedly, as did all of the other Instructors.
Even so ----- he couldn't help but feel uneasy about what was happening now. He remembered the night only a week or so ago when he had been called into the Professor's study. That was when he had first learnt of Rogue's possible connection with Mystique --- and thereby with Kurt. It was he who had been entrusted with finding out if there was any genetic evidence that the three were related, and the results had been ---- startling.
But all the while as he was conducting the necessary blood tests, Hank had felt guilty. Both Kurt and Rogue were students of his, and good kids at that. He didn't like lying to them.
And now that Kurt had run away ----- it just felt wrong.
"Do you know what the Professor intends to do?"
She paused thoughtfully, considering the question. "Inform Jean and Scott of the situation, I suppose. They will certainly have to know now that it is all out in the open. I don't know what he'll tell the younger students ----- when they realize that their friend is missing then they will certainly demand answers."
"Can you blame them?"
"No."
He narrowed his eyes accusingly at a nearby spider plant. "And what about Rogue? What does she have to say about all of this?"
She continued to watch him. "She will not speak to anyone."
He frowned. "Understandable."
"I will phone the school later on and excuse her from today's lessons. Perhaps she will be more willing to talk about what happened now that she has had time to reflect."
Hank shook his shaggy head. "Maybe, but I can't see Rogue being particularly co-operative, can you?"
She pursed her berry colored lips and didn't say anything. A strand of silver hair had fallen across her brow, flawing the perfect symmetry of her face. She lowered her gaze.
"I wish that we knew where Kurt was. I hate to think of him alone out there."
The sadness that crept into her voice surprised Hank. He looked down, eyebrows pulled together in concern. Ororo was by no means emotionless, but she had always maintained an air of cool composure. A kind of distance. To witness her experiencing human pain was a strange and distressing experience.
Were it anyone else, he would have simply put his arm around their shoulder ------ given them a friendly hug. But he couldn't bring himself to do that to Ororo. She may have demonstrated how human she really was, but a part of her would always remain a goddess ----- remote and untouchable. He didn't know what to do.
He floundered helplessly, thinking desperately for something to say. "I'm sure he's fine," he managed finally, rubbing at the nape of his neck.
She sighed. "How can you be certain?"
He watched her sincerely. "Trust me, I'm a doctor."
Ororo smiled sadly and looked up at her friend, eyes shining like sapphires against her coffee colored skin. "Cute, though not very original I'm afraid" she murmured softly.
He shrugged and gave an apologetic half smile. "I tried."
"Thank you Hank."
He ran a hand self consciously over his knuckles. "No problem."
They fell into silence. Overhead, the first light pattering of rain could be heard. Dressed in her usual attire of short-sleeved t-shit and light skirt, Ororo couldn't help but shiver. It was going to be a cold morning.
Inside the warmth of the study, the cloud burst was subdued to distant background noise. Though it was still very early in the morning, a fire had been lit. The glowing wood crackled audibly, filling the heavy silence.
Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair, fingers steepled before him. He watched the two students closely.
"Any questions?"
Scott was visibly taken back. He blinked several times, brow contorted in a look of utter shock. "But ---- but how? Rogue is Mystique's daughter?"
It was not an unexpected reaction. The Professor shook his head slowly. "That is only one possibility. We are still investigating."
The boy ran a hand through his hair. It was a habit of his, but it manifested itself most when he was upset of stressed. He had been doing steadily for the past ten minutes.
"How long have you known?"
Charles's steady gaze didn't waver. "About a week."
"That long?" Scott's eyes flew wide behind his sunglasses "Why didn't you tell us?"
Charles frowned. "Obviously this is very sensitive information. I did not want to tell anyone until I was certain of the truth, whatever that truth may be."
The teenager gritted his teeth. "Mystique's gone too far this time."
"Her actions were --- unexpected, yes. Had I known what she was planning, I would have better prepared both Kurt and Rogue. As it is ----" he sighed wearily and shook his head, " ----I don't know how they are. Their minds are so confused and chaotic ---- I can't get a reading out of either of them."
Jean was sitting next to Scott, her arms drawn around her knees. She lowered her head sadly. "Poor Kurt" she murmured.
Scott laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Turning once again to the Professor, he frowned. "Why hasn't anyone been out to look for him?" he asked, traces of anger evident in his voice.
Charles rested his chin on his hands. "It would not have done any good. You didn't see him last night, Scott. He was hurt --- angry. He would not have returned with us, even if we could find him."
Scott gave a growl of frustration. Standing hurriedly he began to pace the room. Jean watched him with worried eyes.
"But you don't know that! I could have talked to him --- reasoned with him! He trusts me, I could have done it! He needs us!"
The older man watched him considerately. "Scott, please. Try to calm down."
He stared at him incredulously. "Calm down?! Professor, Kurt's run away! He could be anywhere! What if he gets hurt, or what if his image inducer fails?" He took a step towards the man in the wheelchair "He's never been by himself before. Anything could happen to him!"
"I am well aware of that," Charles told him steadily, moving his chair closer. "But I cannot keep any child here who does not wish to be. If Kurt has decided to leave the Institute, then there's nothing that I can do. It is his decision to make."
"But what if he's injured?"
"He isn't that much I am certain of. I'm keeping a constant mental lock on him at all times. If anything happens, I will know."
Scott held his head in his hands. "Do you even know where he is?"
Charles paused, a look of thought crossing his features. Finally, he sighed and nodded silently. "Yes, but I can't tell you."
Scott wavered, surprised and uncertain. He was hurt - the Professor never kept secrets from him. He was the team leader - he needed to know these things. The Professor knew that.
"Please Professor," he pleaded quietly, anger abating "He's like my brother. I need to know where he is."
"I'm sorry, but I can't."
He blinked. "But why?"
Charles sighed and lowered his gaze. The flickering firelight danced across his features. "I have to respect Kurt's wishes. If he has chosen to leave the Institute, then I will not try and force him to come back. He will return to us when he is ready. You just have to give him some time by himself ---- to think about what has happened. It is a lot for anybody to take in."
Scott stood silently, hands curled into fists. He swallowed and looked away, mouth drawn into a grim line. He shook his head. "I'm sorry Professor, but I can't just leave him. He's my friend, and he's an X Man. When you're with the X Men, you're never alone." He closed his eyes briefly. "That's why I have to go after him."
The Professor watched him closely. Scott and Kurt had been close ever since their first meeting, developing a kind of brotherly bond. It was a strange one - anyone could see that. On the outside at least, they were total opposites. The responsible team leader hanging out with the class goof. But Scott had desperately needed a younger brother before Alex had come into his life, and Kurt had needed someone to guide him. They had fitted together perfectly. And now that Kurt was gone - possibly in danger - Charles could feel Scott's deep sense of loss.
"Of course. You must do what you must."
The teenager nodded silently - understanding. Without another word, Scott turned and walked out of the room.
Jean looked up to the Professor. His eyes were dark and clouded, deep in thought. She hugged her knees closer.
"Do you think he'll find him?" she asked softly.
Charles shook his head certainly. "No."
She paused. A log of wood fell over in the fire place with a sharp crackle, sending glowing embers flying. The rain continued to fall against the window. "What are you going to tell the younger students?"
He shrugged wearily. "No more than need be. Of course they will need to know that something has happened and that Kurt has run away. There can be no avoiding that. It may be that we are forced to tell them the truth, but I do not want it to come to that. Rogue is upset enough without having her private life the subject of teenage gossip."
Jean played unconsciously with her thumb ring, twisting the slim band of metal round and round. It was a comfort habit. "How is Rogue? Kitty said that she was pretty worked up last night."
"She is," he agreed "But that is only to be expected. I don't want to pry into her mind though. Her loss of trust in myself and the other Instructors runs deep ----- I do not wish to further it by reading her thoughts. My mental lock on Kurt is for safety reasons - so long as I know that Rogue is safe within the mansion, I will let her come to terms with events in her own time."
The pretty redhead thought for a moment. "Would you like me to try and talk to her?"
He titled his head in consideration, reflecting on the offer. "Yes, perhaps that might help."
She nodded. "I'll go up there in a moment." There was a slight pause before she carefully asked her next question. "What are you going to tell their parents?"
It was a question that Charles had asked himself many times over the course of the previous evening, and it seemed that there was only one possible answer. "The truth," he told her resignedly "It's only fair that they know. Perhaps Irene will be able to help Rogue to open up. As for Mr and Mrs Wagner ----"he shook his head despairingly "----They need to know what has happened to their son. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to them. I fear that they will panic and try to bring Kurt back to Germany."
"Don't you think that they should?"
"No, I don't. Firstly, Kurt and Rogue will eventually need to work through their issues together. They cannot simply ignore the fact that they are brother and sister. If they are denied contact, then they can never begin to come to terms with what has happened. Secondly, Kurt must return to the Institute. He is an extremely powerful mutant --- more so that I think even he realizes ------ but he needs to learn to harness that power. That's why he came to Bayville in the first place, and that is why he will eventually need to return."
She rested her chin on her drawn up knees. "When are you going to call their parents?"
He wheeled himself to the widow and stared out at the rain. "I shall telephone Rogue's foster mother as soon as possible. The Wagners I shall contact later in the day. I believe that it is still fairly late in Germany."
"I hope they'll be alright."
Who was she talking about? The Wagners or Kurt and Rogue? Charles wasn't sure.
"As do I," he murmured reflectively.
Rogue dumped the shoulder bag unceremoniously onto the bed. Hurriedly, she began to rummage through her open drawers, pulling out clothes and shoes and dumping them on the floor. A quick glance to her alarm clock told her that it was half past seven. She would have to hurry if she wanted to leave unnoticed.
The decision to leave the Institute hadn't been on impulse. Ever since she had listened in on the Professor and Kurt talking she had realized that she couldn't stay. She didn't belong here anymore. But she had just felt so lost ---- so empty ----- she had simply wanted to lay on her bed and not have to think about it. Who knows? If she had simply been left alone, maybe she'd still be lying there now. Maybe she would have never gotten up.
And then IT had happened. Kurt had tried to kiss her.
Hot tears of fury sprung afresh in her eyes, rage burning inside of her. It made her angry even now. Alright, they had flirted, but it was always in a jokey way. She had never EVER seriously considered him like that. And then when she found out that he might be her brother ------
She wiped fiercely at her eyes and began to stuff a couple of shirts into the bag. Deep down, she knew that she wasn't really angry with him. Not really. But she was just so hurt and confused ------ it was always easier to blame someone else. She NEEDED to blame someone else.
She didn't know where he had gone afterwards. She wasn't sure that she even cared. Last night was such a blur --- like a half forgotten nightmare ----- but her first clear memory was picking up her telephone and dialing a number. She was so mixed up that she hadn't even known who she was calling until she had heard Irene's voice. Hearing her foster mother again, she had blurted out the whole story --- everything, from Mystique and Kurt's family ties to Xavier's deception. She wasn't aware of how long it had taken --- maybe minutes, maybe hours. Irene had listened patiently, soothing Rogue when she began to cry again. This was a side to Rogue that only Irene had ever seen. Everyone thought that she was so strong ---- that nothing hurt her ---- but they couldn't have been more wrong. Rogue knew how to cry. She had had a lot to cry about over the years. But only Irene ever saw that.
Finally, she had become quiet, and that was when Irene had said it.
"Come home, sweetheart. I'll take care of you."
Home. She wanted to be there more than anything else in the world. Back home where nobody knew that she was a mutant --- where Mystique and Kurt and the Institute would be nothing but distant memories. She could leave this life behind her forever, and maybe with Irene's help, she would be able to forget.
It sounded good.
Someone knocked on the door behind her. Rogue froze.
"Rogue?"
It was only Jean. The young girl snarled silently and went back to packing, now hunting around the floor for a change of underwear.
"Rogue, I know that you're in there. I was thinking that maybe we could talk."
Her hand trembled as she zipped up the bag, swinging it over her slim shoulders. Her hair was a mess and she hadn't brushed her teeth, but suddenly, things like that seemed so trivial that it was ridiculous.
"The Professor told me about what happened. Are you alright?"
Rogue stood quickly on her quaking legs, running a gloved hand over her forearms. It was very cold. She glanced out of the tall French windows - it was raining. That was good. Less people on the streets to recognize her.
"I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you need me. We're all here for you."
-----Go bite me, Jean------
"I know that you must be feeling pretty alone right now, and that you're probably kind of scared."
What? Jean was suddenly an expert on long lost relations? Rogue opened the glass door to the balcony and stepped out into the rain. She wasn't about to stick around for the 'I can relate to what you're going through' prep-talk.
Placing her hands firmly on the stone railing, she swung herself over the edge. It was slippery with water, cold liquid seeping through the material of her gloves. Her feet dangled helplessly in the air for a moment before she allowed herself to drop. She fell heavily on her feet, landing in a puddle, covering her black boots in a fresh coat of freezing mud. Rogue didn't care. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the rain fall. Her hair was already plastered to her head, dark makeup streaming down her pale face.
Time to get going. By tonight, she would be back home, and nothing would ever be able to hurt her again.
Alone, she began to walk away.
Scott Summers hid a yawn behind his hand as he walked down the corridor. His bare feet padded quietly against the carpet, eyes sore and red-rimmed behind his sunglasses. He frowned. That storm had kept him up all night. He had thought that it would have blown over by the morning, but the heavy presence of rain clouds outside confirmed that the bad weather was settling in. Great.
He turned a corner in the hall and ran into Jean. Literally. The force of the impact sent them both reeling backwards.
Scott was the first to recover. Blinking quickly, he took a step forward and helped to steady Jean. "Jean!" he exclaimed, mortified. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
The pretty senior grimaced, rubbing her head. To his surprise, she was already dressed. It was only seven o'clock. "I'm fine, don't worry about it." She looked up at him and saw that her assurances had done little to make him feel better. She smiled teasingly, "Hey, have you been working out? That chest of yours is pret-ty firm, Mr Summers. I'm impressed."
Was she flirting with him? Scott allowed himself to play with the thought briefly before dismissing it with a shake of his head. Jean just didn't see him that way, end of story. Still, he was pleased that she had noticed. He had, in fact, increased his physical training regime from one hour a day to two. Who knows? Maybe it might help her to change her mind about him -----
-----A man could dream.
He felt his cheeks darkened self-consciously at the compliment. Running a hand through his short, dark hair, he thought quickly for a way to keep the conversation running. They spent so little time together nowadays --- he missed the closeness that they had once shared.
"So----" he rocked restlessly on his heels "Where were you off to in such a hurry? Is Duncan picking you up to drive to school today?"
Please-say-no-please-say-no-please-say-no-
Jean rested one hand on her hip and flicked her hair behind her shoulders. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows drew together in a slight frown. "No. The Professor wants to see us in his study as soon as possible - I was just coming to get you actually."
Scott tilted his head curiously. "This early? What's it about?"
"I'm not sure."
He watched her closely for a moment. She seemed uneasy, worried.
"What's wrong?"
She sighed, pursing her glossy lips together thoughtfully. "I don't know, maybe I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill here. It's just------" she trailed off into silence, steady gaze fixed on the floor.
"Yes?" he prompted.
"Well, Kitty woke me up late last night and asked if she could stay in my room. She had spent the evening doing some homework, and when she went down to her bedroom Rogue had locked the door. She tried to phase through the wall but Rogue got really angry and wouldn't let her in."
Scott's smooth forehead pulled together in a look of confusion. "But I thought that those two were getting along better? Why would Rogue do that?"
Jean shrugged helplessly. "I went down to try and talk to her but she wouldn't even answer me. Kitty was as clueless as I was. I figured that she just needed some time to cool off, so I left it at that. Maybe that's what the Professor wants to talk to us about? What do you think?"
"I guess we won't know until we get there. I can't understand why Rogue would act like that ----- she seemed pretty happy yesterday. Weren't she and Kurt going down some Monster Truck Rally or something?"
She nodded, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. The dreary weather had forced her to done a thick crimson sweater and she unconsciously pulled at the sleeves. "Yeah, I think so. Maybe they had a fight?"
"I was just going to go and get him up for school. I could ask him about it," Scott offered usefully.
"Uh-uh, I already thought of that. He's not in his room."
The young X Men leader paused, frown deepening. A small pang of doubt nagged at the back of his mind - there was defiantly something wrong here. Rogue suddenly flying off the handle and then Kurt leaving his bedroom before seven in the morning? Something wasn't adding up.
He looked up and found himself meeting Jean's eyes. Emerald green and fathomless, she stared at him expectantly. It was his call. No matter what happened, he knew that she would stand by him.
That was why he loved her.
"Let's go see what the Prof has to say before we jump to any conclusions. I'll go and get changed."
Jean nodded once more, smiling warmly. "It'll probably turn out to be something of nothing. I'll tell him that you're coming."
As he turned to walk away, the girls smile faded, quickly replaced with a look of worried thought. Her telepathy was still extremely weak, and after that unfortunate episode a few months ago she had been consciously avoiding using it. Even so, a sense of foreboding danced darkly at the edges of her consciousness. Emotions were running high throughout the Institute ---- she could sense it. She had never felt anything like this before. It disturbed her.
Shivering, she hugged herself tightly.
Ororo Monroe sat in the cool quiet of the greenhouse, staring reflectively into space. Her eyes were dark and unfocused, silver eyebrows pulled together in a look of thought. Despite the cool grey of the morning, her milky coffee skin growled warm gold. She would have made a breathtaking picture; solemn and meditative ---- unearthly beautiful. A true goddess.
This was her place to come and think ---- to rest surrounded by the plants that she so carefully tended ---- to detach herself from the outside world. She had a lot to think of this morning.
Hank paused by the door, oversized hand resting on the doorframe. He had opened his mouth to say something, but somehow remained silent. She looked so serene - surrounded by the waxy leaves of living green - that he suddenly didn't want to disturb her. He hesitated uncertainly.
Slowly, Ororo became aware that she was not alone. She blinked and turned her head. If she was put out by his presence, she did not show it.
"Hank, good morning."
Slightly self-conscious, the man moved further into the room. He moved gorilla like, balancing his weight on his heavy knuckles. Although he was perfectly capable of walking upright, since his mutation he had found this to be the more comfortable way for him to move around.
"I'm sorry ---- I didn't mean to disturb you. Charles is seeing Jean and Scott at the moment and he would like us to go up to his study later."
She nodded. "Alright."
He shrugged one shoulder apologetically, feeling mildly guilty that he had drawn her from her thoughts. He began to move away.
"Hank?"
He paused. "Yes?"
Ororo gestured to the empty seat beside her. "I would appreciate having someone to talk to."
He watched her for a moment, unsure whether she was simply being polite. Finally, he walked into the greenhouse and sat next to her on the warm wooden bench. He towered over the slender woman, his sizable bulk making her look doll-like by comparison. Hank was not fooled however. She could blast him through the wall if she chose to.
"What's on your mind?" Stupid question.
She breathed in the fresh scent of flowers. It soothed her somehow. "I cannot help but worry about Kurt."
The furred man sighed and shook his head wearily. "I know. I couldn't stop thinking about it last night ---- I almost went out and searched for him myself. I'm afraid that I cannot agree with the Professor on this one. We should have told both Kurt and Rogue the moment that we found out the truth. And then to simply let Kurt run away ---- in the state that he was in -----"
"But it's not our decision to make. If Kurt chose to run away from the Institute, then there is nothing that you or I would have been able to do to bring him back - Charles knows that. It wouldn't have done any good to go after him. He simply doesn't trust us anymore."
Hank frowned uneasily, cupping his hands in his lap. "It should have been avoided."
Ororo watched him closely. "We did all that we could. It is now out of our hands."
He lifted his dark eyebrows. "You don't sound too convinced."
She was silent for a moment, jaw firm and unwavering. He knew that he had hit a nerve. Finally, she lowered her gaze.
"I trust in Charles. If he believes that we should give Kurt some time alone, then that is all I need to know."
Hank didn't know how to respond, so he kept quiet. Of course he trusted in the Professors judgment - he always had. When his own mutations were becoming too much to handle, it had been Xavier who he had gone to for help. He trusted him wholeheartedly, as did all of the other Instructors.
Even so ----- he couldn't help but feel uneasy about what was happening now. He remembered the night only a week or so ago when he had been called into the Professor's study. That was when he had first learnt of Rogue's possible connection with Mystique --- and thereby with Kurt. It was he who had been entrusted with finding out if there was any genetic evidence that the three were related, and the results had been ---- startling.
But all the while as he was conducting the necessary blood tests, Hank had felt guilty. Both Kurt and Rogue were students of his, and good kids at that. He didn't like lying to them.
And now that Kurt had run away ----- it just felt wrong.
"Do you know what the Professor intends to do?"
She paused thoughtfully, considering the question. "Inform Jean and Scott of the situation, I suppose. They will certainly have to know now that it is all out in the open. I don't know what he'll tell the younger students ----- when they realize that their friend is missing then they will certainly demand answers."
"Can you blame them?"
"No."
He narrowed his eyes accusingly at a nearby spider plant. "And what about Rogue? What does she have to say about all of this?"
She continued to watch him. "She will not speak to anyone."
He frowned. "Understandable."
"I will phone the school later on and excuse her from today's lessons. Perhaps she will be more willing to talk about what happened now that she has had time to reflect."
Hank shook his shaggy head. "Maybe, but I can't see Rogue being particularly co-operative, can you?"
She pursed her berry colored lips and didn't say anything. A strand of silver hair had fallen across her brow, flawing the perfect symmetry of her face. She lowered her gaze.
"I wish that we knew where Kurt was. I hate to think of him alone out there."
The sadness that crept into her voice surprised Hank. He looked down, eyebrows pulled together in concern. Ororo was by no means emotionless, but she had always maintained an air of cool composure. A kind of distance. To witness her experiencing human pain was a strange and distressing experience.
Were it anyone else, he would have simply put his arm around their shoulder ------ given them a friendly hug. But he couldn't bring himself to do that to Ororo. She may have demonstrated how human she really was, but a part of her would always remain a goddess ----- remote and untouchable. He didn't know what to do.
He floundered helplessly, thinking desperately for something to say. "I'm sure he's fine," he managed finally, rubbing at the nape of his neck.
She sighed. "How can you be certain?"
He watched her sincerely. "Trust me, I'm a doctor."
Ororo smiled sadly and looked up at her friend, eyes shining like sapphires against her coffee colored skin. "Cute, though not very original I'm afraid" she murmured softly.
He shrugged and gave an apologetic half smile. "I tried."
"Thank you Hank."
He ran a hand self consciously over his knuckles. "No problem."
They fell into silence. Overhead, the first light pattering of rain could be heard. Dressed in her usual attire of short-sleeved t-shit and light skirt, Ororo couldn't help but shiver. It was going to be a cold morning.
Inside the warmth of the study, the cloud burst was subdued to distant background noise. Though it was still very early in the morning, a fire had been lit. The glowing wood crackled audibly, filling the heavy silence.
Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair, fingers steepled before him. He watched the two students closely.
"Any questions?"
Scott was visibly taken back. He blinked several times, brow contorted in a look of utter shock. "But ---- but how? Rogue is Mystique's daughter?"
It was not an unexpected reaction. The Professor shook his head slowly. "That is only one possibility. We are still investigating."
The boy ran a hand through his hair. It was a habit of his, but it manifested itself most when he was upset of stressed. He had been doing steadily for the past ten minutes.
"How long have you known?"
Charles's steady gaze didn't waver. "About a week."
"That long?" Scott's eyes flew wide behind his sunglasses "Why didn't you tell us?"
Charles frowned. "Obviously this is very sensitive information. I did not want to tell anyone until I was certain of the truth, whatever that truth may be."
The teenager gritted his teeth. "Mystique's gone too far this time."
"Her actions were --- unexpected, yes. Had I known what she was planning, I would have better prepared both Kurt and Rogue. As it is ----" he sighed wearily and shook his head, " ----I don't know how they are. Their minds are so confused and chaotic ---- I can't get a reading out of either of them."
Jean was sitting next to Scott, her arms drawn around her knees. She lowered her head sadly. "Poor Kurt" she murmured.
Scott laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Turning once again to the Professor, he frowned. "Why hasn't anyone been out to look for him?" he asked, traces of anger evident in his voice.
Charles rested his chin on his hands. "It would not have done any good. You didn't see him last night, Scott. He was hurt --- angry. He would not have returned with us, even if we could find him."
Scott gave a growl of frustration. Standing hurriedly he began to pace the room. Jean watched him with worried eyes.
"But you don't know that! I could have talked to him --- reasoned with him! He trusts me, I could have done it! He needs us!"
The older man watched him considerately. "Scott, please. Try to calm down."
He stared at him incredulously. "Calm down?! Professor, Kurt's run away! He could be anywhere! What if he gets hurt, or what if his image inducer fails?" He took a step towards the man in the wheelchair "He's never been by himself before. Anything could happen to him!"
"I am well aware of that," Charles told him steadily, moving his chair closer. "But I cannot keep any child here who does not wish to be. If Kurt has decided to leave the Institute, then there's nothing that I can do. It is his decision to make."
"But what if he's injured?"
"He isn't that much I am certain of. I'm keeping a constant mental lock on him at all times. If anything happens, I will know."
Scott held his head in his hands. "Do you even know where he is?"
Charles paused, a look of thought crossing his features. Finally, he sighed and nodded silently. "Yes, but I can't tell you."
Scott wavered, surprised and uncertain. He was hurt - the Professor never kept secrets from him. He was the team leader - he needed to know these things. The Professor knew that.
"Please Professor," he pleaded quietly, anger abating "He's like my brother. I need to know where he is."
"I'm sorry, but I can't."
He blinked. "But why?"
Charles sighed and lowered his gaze. The flickering firelight danced across his features. "I have to respect Kurt's wishes. If he has chosen to leave the Institute, then I will not try and force him to come back. He will return to us when he is ready. You just have to give him some time by himself ---- to think about what has happened. It is a lot for anybody to take in."
Scott stood silently, hands curled into fists. He swallowed and looked away, mouth drawn into a grim line. He shook his head. "I'm sorry Professor, but I can't just leave him. He's my friend, and he's an X Man. When you're with the X Men, you're never alone." He closed his eyes briefly. "That's why I have to go after him."
The Professor watched him closely. Scott and Kurt had been close ever since their first meeting, developing a kind of brotherly bond. It was a strange one - anyone could see that. On the outside at least, they were total opposites. The responsible team leader hanging out with the class goof. But Scott had desperately needed a younger brother before Alex had come into his life, and Kurt had needed someone to guide him. They had fitted together perfectly. And now that Kurt was gone - possibly in danger - Charles could feel Scott's deep sense of loss.
"Of course. You must do what you must."
The teenager nodded silently - understanding. Without another word, Scott turned and walked out of the room.
Jean looked up to the Professor. His eyes were dark and clouded, deep in thought. She hugged her knees closer.
"Do you think he'll find him?" she asked softly.
Charles shook his head certainly. "No."
She paused. A log of wood fell over in the fire place with a sharp crackle, sending glowing embers flying. The rain continued to fall against the window. "What are you going to tell the younger students?"
He shrugged wearily. "No more than need be. Of course they will need to know that something has happened and that Kurt has run away. There can be no avoiding that. It may be that we are forced to tell them the truth, but I do not want it to come to that. Rogue is upset enough without having her private life the subject of teenage gossip."
Jean played unconsciously with her thumb ring, twisting the slim band of metal round and round. It was a comfort habit. "How is Rogue? Kitty said that she was pretty worked up last night."
"She is," he agreed "But that is only to be expected. I don't want to pry into her mind though. Her loss of trust in myself and the other Instructors runs deep ----- I do not wish to further it by reading her thoughts. My mental lock on Kurt is for safety reasons - so long as I know that Rogue is safe within the mansion, I will let her come to terms with events in her own time."
The pretty redhead thought for a moment. "Would you like me to try and talk to her?"
He titled his head in consideration, reflecting on the offer. "Yes, perhaps that might help."
She nodded. "I'll go up there in a moment." There was a slight pause before she carefully asked her next question. "What are you going to tell their parents?"
It was a question that Charles had asked himself many times over the course of the previous evening, and it seemed that there was only one possible answer. "The truth," he told her resignedly "It's only fair that they know. Perhaps Irene will be able to help Rogue to open up. As for Mr and Mrs Wagner ----"he shook his head despairingly "----They need to know what has happened to their son. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to them. I fear that they will panic and try to bring Kurt back to Germany."
"Don't you think that they should?"
"No, I don't. Firstly, Kurt and Rogue will eventually need to work through their issues together. They cannot simply ignore the fact that they are brother and sister. If they are denied contact, then they can never begin to come to terms with what has happened. Secondly, Kurt must return to the Institute. He is an extremely powerful mutant --- more so that I think even he realizes ------ but he needs to learn to harness that power. That's why he came to Bayville in the first place, and that is why he will eventually need to return."
She rested her chin on her drawn up knees. "When are you going to call their parents?"
He wheeled himself to the widow and stared out at the rain. "I shall telephone Rogue's foster mother as soon as possible. The Wagners I shall contact later in the day. I believe that it is still fairly late in Germany."
"I hope they'll be alright."
Who was she talking about? The Wagners or Kurt and Rogue? Charles wasn't sure.
"As do I," he murmured reflectively.
Rogue dumped the shoulder bag unceremoniously onto the bed. Hurriedly, she began to rummage through her open drawers, pulling out clothes and shoes and dumping them on the floor. A quick glance to her alarm clock told her that it was half past seven. She would have to hurry if she wanted to leave unnoticed.
The decision to leave the Institute hadn't been on impulse. Ever since she had listened in on the Professor and Kurt talking she had realized that she couldn't stay. She didn't belong here anymore. But she had just felt so lost ---- so empty ----- she had simply wanted to lay on her bed and not have to think about it. Who knows? If she had simply been left alone, maybe she'd still be lying there now. Maybe she would have never gotten up.
And then IT had happened. Kurt had tried to kiss her.
Hot tears of fury sprung afresh in her eyes, rage burning inside of her. It made her angry even now. Alright, they had flirted, but it was always in a jokey way. She had never EVER seriously considered him like that. And then when she found out that he might be her brother ------
She wiped fiercely at her eyes and began to stuff a couple of shirts into the bag. Deep down, she knew that she wasn't really angry with him. Not really. But she was just so hurt and confused ------ it was always easier to blame someone else. She NEEDED to blame someone else.
She didn't know where he had gone afterwards. She wasn't sure that she even cared. Last night was such a blur --- like a half forgotten nightmare ----- but her first clear memory was picking up her telephone and dialing a number. She was so mixed up that she hadn't even known who she was calling until she had heard Irene's voice. Hearing her foster mother again, she had blurted out the whole story --- everything, from Mystique and Kurt's family ties to Xavier's deception. She wasn't aware of how long it had taken --- maybe minutes, maybe hours. Irene had listened patiently, soothing Rogue when she began to cry again. This was a side to Rogue that only Irene had ever seen. Everyone thought that she was so strong ---- that nothing hurt her ---- but they couldn't have been more wrong. Rogue knew how to cry. She had had a lot to cry about over the years. But only Irene ever saw that.
Finally, she had become quiet, and that was when Irene had said it.
"Come home, sweetheart. I'll take care of you."
Home. She wanted to be there more than anything else in the world. Back home where nobody knew that she was a mutant --- where Mystique and Kurt and the Institute would be nothing but distant memories. She could leave this life behind her forever, and maybe with Irene's help, she would be able to forget.
It sounded good.
Someone knocked on the door behind her. Rogue froze.
"Rogue?"
It was only Jean. The young girl snarled silently and went back to packing, now hunting around the floor for a change of underwear.
"Rogue, I know that you're in there. I was thinking that maybe we could talk."
Her hand trembled as she zipped up the bag, swinging it over her slim shoulders. Her hair was a mess and she hadn't brushed her teeth, but suddenly, things like that seemed so trivial that it was ridiculous.
"The Professor told me about what happened. Are you alright?"
Rogue stood quickly on her quaking legs, running a gloved hand over her forearms. It was very cold. She glanced out of the tall French windows - it was raining. That was good. Less people on the streets to recognize her.
"I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you need me. We're all here for you."
-----Go bite me, Jean------
"I know that you must be feeling pretty alone right now, and that you're probably kind of scared."
What? Jean was suddenly an expert on long lost relations? Rogue opened the glass door to the balcony and stepped out into the rain. She wasn't about to stick around for the 'I can relate to what you're going through' prep-talk.
Placing her hands firmly on the stone railing, she swung herself over the edge. It was slippery with water, cold liquid seeping through the material of her gloves. Her feet dangled helplessly in the air for a moment before she allowed herself to drop. She fell heavily on her feet, landing in a puddle, covering her black boots in a fresh coat of freezing mud. Rogue didn't care. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the rain fall. Her hair was already plastered to her head, dark makeup streaming down her pale face.
Time to get going. By tonight, she would be back home, and nothing would ever be able to hurt her again.
Alone, she began to walk away.