Author's Note: Not much to say. Continuation of the last chapter. I was astounded by the reviews! Thank you all so MUCH! (And feel free to do it again any time!)
Rogue opened her eyes, peeking through tight slits. Bright sunlight filtered into the window, baking her usually cool skin. The sun was high in the sky, she somehow knew, and she wondered momentarily why she was still sleeping. The room she lay in looked much like hers at Xavier's school, excluding her possessions. Rogue rolled onto her back and groaned; pain shot from her toes through her spine, and finally subsiding at the base of her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to remember.

The last thing she could recall was Magneto's smiling face. It wasn't like Professor Xavier's, who's was warm and kind, like a grandfather's; it was malicious and evil, taunting and teasing. She remembered it clearly from the last time, and now it was back. She'd remember it for years now, haunting her dreams.

Jean - no, Mystique - had lured her away, then knocked her out cold. The side of her head throbbed and her muffled hearing told her it had swollen as well. But after that, she didn't remember. She supposed they'd driven here, wherever here was, or possibly flown. She'd been woken up when they'd arrived, in a laboratory similar to the real Jean's; starch white and neatly in order. Magneto had lost the wheelchair and had changed into more comfortable clothes.

"Welcome home, Rogue."

She shivered at the remembrance of his words. Home being with Magneto seemed utterly creepy to her, so she pulled the covers close to her chin. Home. What did Magneto want from her now?

The doors to Rogue's suite opened and in walked Mystique. She was in her natural form. Turquoise blue and scaly, brilliant, slicked back red hair. She treaded lightly on the soft carpet, stopping at Rogue's bedside.

"Get up," she said hastily. Rogue lifted her back, but the inflictions sent her back down. Mystique growled, then changed into Logan's form. He had strength she could use. She lifted Rogue's small frame, making sure she wasn't touching any of the fatal skin, and tossed her over her shoulder. She couldn't manage a struggle, so instead she complied and fell limp of Mystique's shoulder.

Rogue watched the carpet. It was silver, shiny, like a metal, and for a second she wondered if it was, but Mystique's feet paced on quietly. She took turns sharply, sending Rogue sliding down, but she hoisted her luggage back up. Rogue was lost already and plus, she didn't know where she was going.

Suddenly, Mystique slammed her down into a hard metal chair. It was iron, she assumed, so Magneto could control who ever held it's presence. A flash of blue walked out the huge circular door just as it shut. Rogue looked around. The room was empty, just a chair and a matching table.

Rogue titled her head back as far as it would go without it hurting. Pain coursed again through her body, and try as she might, her muscles just wouldn't relax. Her arms throbbed, her head pulsed, and her heart pumped faster and faster. She was afraid. Very afraid.

Rogue's mind went out to the school, to her friends. Bobby sat along, John just a few seats away. Kitty and Jubilee were giggling over lunch. Storm and Jean, the real Jean, were teaching, Scott was in the garage under the hood of one of his prized cars. Professor Xavier was in Cerebro, concentrating. Was he looking for her?

But then her mind veered off, running through tall grasses that parted as she passed. She wove through trees, leaped over bubbling creeks and cut shortcuts through the miles. And then suddenly, she stopped. Rogue found herself in the middle of a grungy bar, a fighting cage rattling behind her. She could walked through the crowd and not touch a single person and soon, she was sitting at the bar.

Next to her on a swiveling stool was a figure that seemed all too familiar to her. The leather jacket was worn and tattered, and had lost its shine long ago. He smelled of the forest, a piney scent of the needles. The dark hair was messy, but the unruly mess accented his ruggedly featured face. There was only one person it could be.

Logan.

Rogue lifted herself up into the stool and placed a hand on Logan's shoulder. He jumped, which was quite unlike him, and turned. Sitting next to him was a shimmery image of a woman.

"Rogue?" She nodded, smiling. Everything seemed so real. Maybe she'd gotten out… Maybe she'd escaped. "What are you doing here?"

"Magneto. He and Mystique tricked me, then took me captive. I don't know what he wants, or why he wants me. I'm scared Logan, so scared." A solitary tear trickled down the side of her face. It was unnaturally cold, leaving a trail of frost down her cheek, then finally froze and broke away at her chin. It dropped, hitting the floor with a thud too quiet to be heard, but she did.

"Are you okay? Have they hurt you, kid?"

"Not while I was awake. I'm in a room. I think I'm somewhere in Magneto's mansion. It's white, and the only thing in here is table and chair, both made of metal, iron, I think. I don't know what they're going to do, Logan. I don't know."

"Rogue, just stay calm, I'm coming as soon as I can, okay?" Logan took a swig from his bottle, the last sip of his beer. He didn't stagger as he stood. He hadn't drank enough to be influenced.

Rogue slid off the seat and suddenly vanished. She could feel herself going backwards the way she'd come and she watched the bar slip out of her sight. Her eyes snapped open, and only a few inches away was Magneto's face.

"Dreaming, Rogue?" asked the old man. He brushed a gloved finger down her cheek, stopping where the tear in her dream had frozen and fallen off. The trail was still cold, she could feel numb line frosted on her face.

She turned away and closed her eyes. She didn't want to see Magneto's face. He grabbed onto her chin and forced her head to face his. Her eyes opened, looking into his, and her body began to tremble. Magneto stood up, admiring the effects he had on the girl.

"What do you want?" asked Rogue, spitting it in his face.

"You, my dear. You're going to help me, whether you like it or not."

"You can't make me. They'll come find me. You know they will."

"I'm afraid you're wrong." Magneto raised Rogue's chair and she gripped the rests. Something pressed against her chest, trying to break it's way into her heart. She looked down, but realized immediately what they were. Logan's dog tags. And then she remembered her dream. It wasn't real. Logan couldn't and wouldn't save her; he didn't know she was in trouble.

And she would surely die.

"You see, while you're here with me, the lovely Mystique will take your place, and in turn, learn all the secrets I need to know. And don't worry, she'll destroy your reputation at the school as well. Everything is going as planned, Marie. Everything."

The tags pressed harder against her chest. She saw it in her head before she felt it - blood trickling down past her breasts, onto her stomach, pooling in her bellybutton. Looking down, Rogue could see it soaking through her shirt and for the first time, she realized she'd been stripped down to the last layer of her clothes. A black bloodstained tank top clung to stomach, and a little trail of crimson had flown over the hem of her blue jeans. The tags dug deeper, sending out the next waterfall of flowing blood.

"What do you want, Magneto?" Rogue spat the words, tossing them away as if they were poison. She hated being in his presence and hated being at his mercy even more.

"You will help me, and in time, you'll see," began Magneto as he started to pace. Back and forth, back and forth. Rogue tried to look away, but found herself unable to look away. The tension eased on the dog tags. She reached up to touch it, gingerly, and her fingers came away soaked in her crimson blood.

"Mystique, come here," called Magneto. The scaled woman walked in through the metal doors, swinging her naked blue hips suggestively. At whom, Rogue did not know, but still the female swung on.

"Yes?" drawled Mystique slowly, sweetly, another one of her enticing gestures.

"Go now. You are needed as Rogue at Xavier's institute. Don't draw too much suspicion, but learn enough for me." Mystique nodded, then her yellow eyes flashed, and she became Rogue. She stood in the real Rogue's undergarments, bare and pale skinned. Three scars shown on her stomach, each an equal distance apart, and Rogue knew they were not her own wounds, but the damage Logan had inflicted in her last encounter.

Mystique turned with a smile, trotting off down the hall towards Rogue's room. Rogue suspected she would steal her clothes, and then take off. She hoped vainly that the shape shifter wouldn't tear the school apart as she tore away her reputation.

"Alone at last, Marie."
Author's Note: Finished!! Well, not with the story. There's definitely more to come. And thank you all again sooooo much for reviewing!! I just started out not to long ago and to get that many reviews on a single chapter was AMAZING! I love you!! But, please review again!

I'm going to be free pretty much this entire weekend, so expect another chapter probably by Monday or Tuesday.

Please review! I'll give… chocolate candy bars this time!! And in true Willy-Wonka style, if you get a golden wrapper, it means I love you!