Fifth Part of All You Wanted: Something To Sleep To

Written by: Snow Illusion

Disclaimer: I don't own X-M: E, blah blah blah, you corporate industries with all your money...

Dedicated to: Uh...

-

"In my mind

Everything we did was right

Open your eyes, I'll still be by your side

How could I ever have been so blind?

You give me something to sleep to

at night..."

~"Something To Sleep To," Michelle Branch (Hey, anyone noticing a pattern?)

Yes, yes, I know it's been a long time. I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me. *ducks flying Pietro plushies* Alrighty, now that THAT'S done with... We all know what happened in the last chapter...Rogue woke up in the Medical Wing then freaked out and ran away after she saw some freaky images in Xavier's brain... Pietro can't remember Rogue being gone and has turned up at the Institute looking for her...and...yeah. I think that's it! On with the show!

-

Pietro pushed pass his rival and ended up in the Entrance Room of Xavier's Mansion.

"ROGUE!" he cried at the top of his lungs, burning his throat. "ROGUE!" he cried again, racing around the entire manor in a split second. He came back wheezing, knees on the floor.

Evan ran up, and, despite the urge to throw him across the room, bent down next to Pietro.

"Yo, dude, what's up?" he asked sympathetically, cringing at the sight before him. Purple splotches were scattered across Pietro's face, and sweat dotted his forehead. He was struggling to regain the breath he had lost long ago.

"Rogue," he whispered brokenly, lifting his gaze up from the floor. He curled himself up into a ball, unaware of Evan's presence, or the rest of the X-Men's.

Kitty walked through the kitchen wall and gave out a startled gasp. Pietro was in her home, right now, almost crying. She bit her lip and ran back into the kitchen. Scott andJean had entered as well, and Scott was almost halfway up the stairs before the Professor entered through one of the side doors.

The room was quiet now, except for Pietro's ragged breaths and strangled cries. Evan relieved himself of his position and went to stand over next to Kurt, who had bamfed in the last five seconds. No one dared to move.

The tiny squeals of the Professor's wheelchair was echoing dimly throughout the large room. He wheeled himself next to Pietro and folded his hands. Pietro did nothing.

"Pietro," Xavier said softly, not even looking at him. Before he could say anything else, Pietro was up, harshly wiping the corner of his eyes. His mouth had curved into a heated frown, and every muscle in his body bunched and flexed.

"It was you," he whispered dangerously, taking another step towards the Professor. Xavier did not react to this, and neither did the rest of the students. But that may have been partially because they didn't hear it.

Pietro's finger's twitched. His eyes were glazed over. He looked almost drunk, but he didn't care. He edged closer. "You did this!" he cried louder, lunging at the Professor. His weary hands found their way to Xavier's throat, where they clenched on the skin.

Xavier flailed in his wheelchair as the X-Men came up behind Pietro. Pietro screamed in anger and hurt, squeezing tighter and tighter. He could feel the Professor's adam apple string along his neck, feel the blood racing through constricted veins. Sweat rolled down Pietro's face in dollops as his nails bit into Xavier's skin.

Scott grabbed Pietro's arms and wrenched him away from the Professor.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing Pietro?!?" he spat angrily, holding Pietro's wrists captive. Pietro snarled as one of his bangs hung limply in his eye.

The Professor rubbed his sore neck and claimed air for his deprived lungs while Evan, Jean, and Kurt fretted over him. He pushed them away and went back over to Pietro.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Scott said suddenly, still hanging on to Pietro who was giving a good fight. He stepped backwards.

"No, Scott," The Professor replied. The room went quiet again. Unexpectedly, Pietro broke free of Scott.

"Goddamnit!" he cried in frustration, his hands creeping into his hair. He clutched his head and let out another moan. "Where is she?" he demanded, rushing up to the Professor. This time, he did not try to strangle him. He only grabbed onto the side of his wheelchair. All the sorrow and angst that he had felt in the past couple of hours were now reaching up into a boiling point. He was breathing harshly, his whole body throbbing.

The Professor shook his head. "I have no idea where she is."

Pietro screamed and ran to a chair and threw it against a wall. It cracked and fell to the ground in splinters. He cried again and was looking desperately around the room for something else to break. Jean tried to walk to him, to calm him down, but the Professor stopped her. She looked knowingly at him and stepped back.

"NO!" Pietro yelled, sinking to his knees again. He pounded the ground. "No!" A few teardrops could be seen on the carpet. "Use your Cerebro or whatever, just find her!" He unhinged himself and began to sob.

"We've tried," said the Professor. "We can't seem to locate her."

Pietro knew this was a lie. He didn't know how he knew, he just did. He wiped his nose impatietnly and stood, brushing himself off. He regained his slick aura and his facial expression portrayed as if the last fifteen minutes didn't happen. They weren't erased; they just didn't exist.

"I'll just have to find her myself," he responded, pushing past Kurt and Evan. He hiccuped once as the glass door crashed behind him.

Kitty walked in through the kitchen, her eyes wet and puffy. "Goodbye Pietro," she whispered to herself, before joining the rest of her friends.

-

A solemn figure stands at the edge of a dusty road. A pearl white strand of her hair falls in her hooded face and she irritably pushes it back with a gloved hand. She takes one last glance at a white peice of paper in her hand, then continues to walk.

-

The room is so dark she could hardly see her hand in front of her face. She would've believed she was alone if she wasn't sent here. A shiver runs up her spine.

A hard voice breaks the silence. "He could ruin everything."

Her eyes widened and it dawned on her. She nodded, although she was sure he couldn't see her. But...he had other ways.

"I didn't expect this to happen. I didn't expect her or him, and I definitely didn't expect them to fall in love."

It's quiet once again and she isn't sure what to do. Should she stay or should she go? A familiar song echoes in her head and she smiles lightly, but her happy mood is suddenly shattered.

"You've got to find her." The confident voice has now faltered. "If we don't, he'll get to her, and everything will have been for nothing!" He acidly spat. He breathes heavily and continues. "She's in a diner, south of Balitmore." She took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob, ready to leave.

"Bring her here, Storm, or I will kill you myself."

Knowing this, she sets out on her mission.

-

A cheerful bell welcomes her into the soddy resturant. It does not cheer her, though. A petite waitress strides over to her with a fake smile plastered on her face. Rogue flashes back a mock smile.

"What can Ah do for ya, miss?" the waitress asks in a southern accent, placing one hand on her hip. Her yellow uniform is covered in everything and Rogue is immedietely revolted.

"Just some coffee," Rogue replies, following the waitress to a table. She is utterly freezing and wraps her cloak around her tighter. You would think they had heating in this place, she ponders. She sits down at the table and removes her hood.

The rest of the people in the diner look at her wearily, then return to their eatings. Rogue blinks and crosses her legs, impatiently waiting for her hot drink. It finally arrives, and she pours an unhealthy amount of cream and sugar into it, making it an off shade color of white. She sips it quietly, the warmness of the cup heating her hands. She sets it back down on the table and twirls a napkin in between her fingers.

How did she end up here? In a dingy place outside of Baltimore, Maryland? The money she had for the train didn't take her as far as she would've liked, but this would have to do.

Her thoughts are interrupted again by the small bell attatched to the door. She looks up from her drink and is greeted by the one sight she didn't want to see.

"Ororo!" she gasps and gets up, ready to bolt. A small, chocolate colored hand softly lands on her shoulder.

"Do not fret," the African-American soothes, staring at the youth in front of her. She is covered in her black cloak too sizes to big for her, along with her combat boots and gloves. Ororo smiles warmly. She never takes those boots off.

Rogue is shivering out of the cold and fear under Ororo's grip, but Ororo only smiles.

"Sit down," she says, and Rogue slowly takes her seat. She wants to run, but she is strangely comforted by Ororo's appearance. Ororo takes a seat opposite from Rogue.

"What is wrong my child?" Ororo asks sweetly, holding Rogue's hands in hers. Her snowy white hair falls from her shoulder on to the table, but she doesn't take notice. Her eyes are on Rogue.

At first, Rogue did not answer. She only releases her hands and takes another sip of her coffee. But Ororo knows better. She knows Rogue's weaknesses. She will answer.

"It's the Professor," Rogue will not meet Ororo's calming eyes. She only stares at her coffee. "I saw some...pretty horrible stuff." She sighs and spins her coffee around with a spoon.

"What did you see?" Ororo's voice has risen and is almost completely devoid of sweetness. Her smile has been wiped off her face. One thing she didn't know was what Rogue did.

"I saw..." Rogue's face is screwed up in concentration. "Machines. Awful, awful machines." A few tears sift between her purple frosted eeys. She stops there and cringes. Ororo is impatient and urges her to go on, but Rogue refuses her.

"I love him," she chokes, and the few glittering tears fall on her pale face. "I love him," she repeats, losing all dignity and breaking down right there in the diner. Something flashes in Ororo's mind and she forgets why she is here, and her mission.

"It's okay," she says, stroking Rogue's auburn hair. Rogue continues to cry.

"Why did I have to do that," she mumbles, her tears falling into the corners of her mouth. "Why?" she asks again. "I love him, I love him, I love him," she says to herself over and over again, and Ororo is hit with compassion. She knows how the young one feels. Everything is gone from her mind, and all that is left is empathy.

"Go," she says. Rogue wipes her blood shot eyes and stares at Ororo.

"What?" she responds.

"Go now," Ororo says again, this time, something has appeared in her voice. It is panic. "Go now, my child. Before it is too late."

Rogue is up from her seat and kisses Ororo on the cheek. "Thank you," she said, a few more tears falling down her face. She flies from the restuarant and out into the cold, wrapping her cloak around her tighter. She takes one more glance at Ororo before running again.

Ororo sits at the diner. Everyone around her is talking and laughing. A juke box is playing. The wind outside raves and bangs at the door, waiting to be plunged into their hearts. Ororo sits at the diner, crying.