The Secret
Chapter Eleven: Cooper and Marie
Rogue sat across the desk, grinning triumphantly.
"It began with Jean, Mah story does, anyway." Her skin crawled ever so slightly. She was reminding herself of Mystique – feeling like a portrait of indulgent ego. But what the hell, she thought, I deserve this one.
"She has a re-occurring nightmare, once a year. All she remembers is falling through the sky, scared, and then, a bit of running on the ground, away from the lights in the distance."
The Professor nodded, absorbing this fact.
"And this year, I had that same nightmare. Probably because of when I absorbed Jean in that Mezmero incident." (In Vacancy by Remedy=Chill)
Again, Xavier nodded.
"But I remember different parts of the dream than she does. I remember the stairs on the back of the plane. I remember slipping off, and grabbing the handrail."
"And letting go, foolishly?" He asked, slightly amused at his own foibles.
"Instinctually." She shrugged once. "Whatever."
Xavier sat back and relaxed, just a bit.
"Jean thinks it's Wolverine's memory, like from when he was young." She saw Xavier register his confusion. "Apparently you reminded her of Logan, sometimes." She smiled at him.
And he melted just a bit.
"But Kurt managed to eliminate him as a suspect." She seemed to beam with pride. "He's very personable."
"Perhaps overly so." Xavier sighed, betraying his emotional stress.
"Naw." She waved her hand dismissively. "Ah told him it was Cain Marko's memory – and that no one needed his name brought up again on Thanksgiving. Ah think he'll drop it now."
"Very imaginative." He folded his hands in his lap.
"Not really. You see, Scott took me down to your book today – and told me the story of your inheritance clause. And when he left, and I went to look through the book, I had a flash of Cain's memory from the last time we fought."
Xavier looked both, concerned and distressed. "Was it violent?" He asked. "Cain has so much rage."
"He, ah, was laughing actually, at you. About clearing out your safe."
She watched his distress melt away. "I'm glad. " He said finally. "I find Cain's mind …"
"Uncomfortable." Rogue supplied.
"To be kind, yes, uncomfortable. Please continue."
"And I just knew that he had stolen your money before you could show it to the lawyers."
"He did indeed." Xavier nodded "At the bequest of his father."
"And left you high and dry."
"Falling and wet." He corrected. "My mother was a majority share holder in the airline, her estate I mean. And when I took possession of the estate I did make restitution to the airline – under the guise of a wealthy benefactor who agreed with the decision to settle the incident peacefully."
"And that worked?" She raised an eyebrow.
"I wrote a very nice letter." He explained.
"Ah." Rogue giggled and kicked her feet absently.
Xavier had never seen her so relaxed. She had a quality he found it difficult to name.
"And downstairs, in the small library alcove, there's a picture of you, in a long black coat, standing in line at the Portland airport."
Xavier was chuckling softly to himself as she spoke. He loved that picture, smirking in to the camera. It was the last picture he had of himself with any hair.
Rogue laughed too. It was funny. "Right at the gate no less." She supplied, forcing him to chuckle all the more.
"And written across the bottom – Of all things owed …"
" … To family." He finished. "I thought, when I wrote that, that it had been my fifteen minutes of fame." He seemed to be staring back in time and not seeing her at all. "I really thought … All the excitement and adventure …"
"Were over." She finished for him, bringing him back to the moment. "Life's like that – surprising – with a wet and slippery last step."
"Indeed." He agreed wholeheartedly.
"And once I figured out the that date was they key, everything else just fell in to place with one Yahoo search. Well, mostly." She confessed.
Xavier leaned forward. "What escapes you at this point?"
"The name for starters – you told them Dan Cooper."
"Yes. And there was a Daniel B Cooper – who lived in Portland at the time. He was the man who my stepfather retained to steal the current copy of my mother's will. He then produced the older version with the business clause – which he was determined to sabotage."
Rogue nodded, letting the idea soak in.
"So you were turning them in on themselves." She said at last.
"As a distraction. I had to insure that they didn't suspect I was the Airline Extortionist until it was too late."
"But you took two hundred thousand, and all you needed was one hundred and fifty." She eyed him warily. "Why?"
He pursed his lips. "Ego. Mostly. I wanted as much as they took from my safe." He grinned at himself distractedly. "I had NO idea how heavy an extra fifty thousand in rain soaked twenties could be. I couldn't carry it all out." He shook his head. "I burnt some for warmth before the night was out, and buried a lot more as I stopped to rest." He looked tired of keeping the secret. "I was always afraid that someone would find it."
"Someone did." She supplied.
"Oh, that kid who found the $5800 dollars? That was what didn't burn in my fire pit. No one ever found the rest." He shook his head. "Then, a few years later, Mount St. Helen's erupted and covered the area with molten rock. And that's when I stopped worrying about the money being found."
"Okay, so how did Jean get the memory?"
"Mount St. Helen's again." He exhaled slowly. "Jean was here, in her coma, when the eruption occurred. I was conducting daily eight-hour sessions in trying to contact her. When I went to bed that night, after the eruption, I slept more soundly then I had in years. And I recalled the memory, as more than a dream, as a full psychic projection. I connected to that time, to that younger Xavier, and I relived the experience."
"And Jean?"
"I'm not sure if it was the proximity to the psychic event – to me, at the time, or if it was because I spent so much time and energy trying to reach her, that when I relived the event, it simply went in her direction." He grimaced. "When she recovered from the coma, some several months later, I never expected to be receiving a Thanksgiving Day call from her parents – talking about the nightmare she insisted 'really happened'. As you can guess, I was shocked."
"And you told her to forget it."
"Yes." He agreed. "With the suggestion that she let her memories of the dream fade and that she retain no identifiable details."
"And she has this dream, every year, and forgets it all over again."
"So it would seem." He leaned in on his elbows. "I didn't know that until tonight." He considered her for a moment. "I almost hesitate to ask." He paused for a moment. "But why couldn't I just … help … you to forget about all this?"
"Three reasons actually." She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Thanksgiving – 1975 – Charles Xavier –" She cleared her throat. "May I always be thankful when truth survives …"
"The storm." He mouthed the last words with anguish in his eyes. "That was the year Mutants were first mentioned in medical texts." He whispered harshly. "Under the title Degenerative Throwback Syndrome." The thought seemed to pain him and Rogue could feel the sadness that radiated off him.
"But the truth endured, didn't it?" She said softly. "You brought it through to us. And kept it safe."
His eyes shimmered with a light coat of tears. He had always tried. Always.
"1982 – Charles Xavier – I am Thankful for every day that injury to any may be avoided."
A small soft light played behind his eyes. "That's still true." He whispered in a hushed tone.
"Ah know that Professor." She leaned in and took his hand across the desk. "We all do. All the main points you teach are written in that book down there." Rogue smiled, feeling the call for tears and a desperate need to finish.
"But Ah finish this story Professor." She smiled a forced smile. "This truth came to me, because of Mah powers. It's Mah piece of truth, and I have to see that it endures, just because it's true." She wiped her left eye and pressed on. "And today, someone made a real good point. Ah don't think ah've ever lost anything I really needed. And I don't always consider what I've really got – cuz Ah'm afraid to lose it."
Xavier looked at her anew. She was hardly the true 'rogue' that he had seen when she arrived. He was finally looking directly at the girl beneath the mask.
"Well, today Ah looked Professor. Ah looked long and hard." She had a hard look to her as she said it and he believed her. "And the things I saw aren't going anywhere." She began to count off her fingers. "Kurt wants to be Mah brother. Like as in, family. For life." She looked imploringly at him.
"And Scott." She continued. "You know Ah like Scott."
"Ah, yes, you do know, that he and Jean …"
"Ah know." She shook her head sadly. "But what Ah loved about him, it came from when I had to absorb his powers to defeat Mystique on that field trip when we got snowed in." She swallowed, the memory obviously vary strong in her mind. "When I touched him, he passed out. His mind raced in to mine, and I knew it was going to be full contact – the kind, the kind I can't handle."
She swallowed. "But when our minds touched, it was like his mind tried to stay out of my mind's way – and when his mind realized that he was in control and I wasn't, he looked her right in the face and told her – Don't mess with the Rogue. And he saved us Professor. He saved me, with Mah body and Mah eyes."
She looked uncomfortable and began to speak quietly. "He's the only person Ah ever absorbed who ever looked out for me." She met his eyes. "Ever." She said. "Mah mother included." She swallowed hard and could taste the regret in the back of her throat. "And Ah haven't lost that just because he's with Jean now. Not really."
Xavier nodded once, in complete understanding.
"And you can't take these things away from me." She told him. "And you cant let me keep them without keeping the lesson that showed it all to me." She squeezed his hand tightly. "Ah need this secret more than you do."
Xavier pressed his lips in to a sad and lonely smile. She was right of course. And she did protect the secret already. He told himself. She came right to me …
Her eyes shined, anew and alive. "Of all things owed to family – that just doesn't fit me like it does you. For me, it more like – Family, owed to, of all things …" She just smiled, sweetly, half over her shoulder.
"Then," He said at last, slowly, through a dry mouth, "I guess I shall see you at dinner."
A warmth and affection flared within her, and very quietly, while composing herself, she left the room; Her memories intact.
Authors note: I wish to acknowledge the Real and Historical Daniel B Cooper of Portland who was investigated and cleared of all charges or involvement by the authorities of the day. "His" nefarious deeds – as I have portrayed them here – are of course my own fictional insertions – and not to be in any way attributed to the man as he existed.
And coming soon – Dinner!
-Remedy
