Chapter 2: The Rumour
Kitty Pryde – along with Rogue in tow – headed into the war room the next night around 8pm. It was Halloween. Kurt had taken the younger mutants out trick or treating, and Kitty was meant to be helping Logan clean the hanger area – it was her turn on this particular chore.
"Professssssssor," Kitty stated as she entered the war room, her voice bright and cheerful as ever, Professor Xavier looked over his shoulder, noticing Kitty was holding a book on Greek Mythology.
"Yes, Kitty…"
Rogue looked at Kitty, wondering how in the world Kitty was going to accidentally phase her way through the security computers, she followed Kitty over to where Professor Xavier was in his wheelchair, typing commands in to view various camera angles on the whole of the Mansion's property.
"Me and Rogue were having this argument, I was wondering if maybe…you could, uhm…settle it for us?" Kitty stated, she leaned near the control panel, Rogue realised she was going to do it subtly by phasing through it sooner or later.
"Alright, what is it?" Professor Xavier queried.
Rogue wondered herself, Kitty hadn't even prompted her about what the argument was yet.
"Well…" Kitty opened her book of Greek Mythology and gestured to a page, "Its about King Midas…" she said, she glanced up to Rogue when Professor Xavier wasn't looking, "I was thinking, y'know, I mean he's the king everyone said could turn any object he touched into solid gold…" she explained.
"Yes, I know the myths," Professor Xavier, "what about it?"
Kitty glanced to Rogue, "Well…Rogue thinks that it's just a stupid story someone made up to ward people off of the evils of being greedy, whilst I…" Kitty showed him a paper she'd written, "am doing a thesis on the possibility that King Midas might have been a mutant, only in his time, this might have been looked at as a curse – or blessing, depending which way you look at it – sent by the Gods?" Kitty asked.
Professor Xavier looked blank, "Well…I…"
"I mean isn't it, like, plausible, Professor?" Kitty asked.
"No way…" Rogue pretended to be in on the argument, as if it had actually happened just like Kitty had said, "every Greek and Roman myth ever known seems to have some moral to the story, this is just one of them, this is just another way that storytellers could tell people that there's a price to pay for becoming greedy…I mean it just suddenly happened, one day, wham, he's slapped in the face with powers that could turn anything to gold – and he couldn't even eat or drink so it became his undoing…" Rogue pointed out.
"You have to be kidding me!" Kitty gaped, "I mean, our own mutant powers presented themselves with us in what seemed almost completely overnight, Yours is a prime example of that, I mean what if King Midas just happened to be like us and his powers manifested over night, and became his undoing, it has nothing to do with the morals of being greedy at all!" Kitty was becoming quite convincing, Rogue had begun to realise that Kitty had already written out a thesis on this long in advance and it so well memorised and thought out, that it was almost frightening.
"Girls, girls…" Professor Xavier held his hands up as if he had the power to miraculously shut both girls up by waving his hands in such a way. His face was warped in utter amusement – at least both girls were having a very intelligent argument as opposed to the general arguments about who's taste in music was worse. "Both your theories on this are very interesting, both are certainly possible. This would make an interesting subject for your debate due next week, if you would care to speak about it in front of the rest of the students about it, you could gain extra credit," he smiled a little.
"Sounds good," Kitty smiled, realising at least if she had to phase through the security control panel and break it all, she'd get some extra credit out of the brilliant lie she'd come up with to distract Professor Xavier from the real agenda.
Rogue's face dropped, oh great, now I have extra work to do, she thought, but she realised this was a price she'd had to pay, Rogue suddenly saw something on one of the monitors that had a security camera gazing upon the hanger area. "Is that a B2 Stealth Bomber?!" she asked in surprise.
"Yes, it is," Professor Xavier smiled, "isn't it beautiful?"
"That thing must have cost you a fortune," Kitty closer to the monitor to stare at the plane.
"Yes, it did," Professor Xavier noted, "Hank is going to be adding a few personal touches to it."
"Can I learn to fly that?" Rogue asked excitedly.
"One day," Professor Xavier smirked a little.
Kitty did as she'd planned, it was then that she phased herself through the whole control panel and her arm, as it flailed out, flew through three of the monitors on the panel, she gasped in shock as if it really had been accidental.
The machines and control panel made a strange sound and a few electric blue sparks emanated from the machinery. Kitty yanked herself up phasing through the machine again, which only seemed to make it worse.
"Oh my god, Professor!" Kitty put her hand to her mouth, "I'm so sorry…"
"Kitty…what have I told you about carelessly leaning near electronic hardware?" Charles Xavier sighed deeply.
"Uhm…don't do it…" Kitty chewed her lip, she looked very guilty.
Rogue quietly crept out of the war room whilst Kitty was given an apt telling off. Rogue silently promised herself she'd make it up to Kitty, somehow.
When she arrived at the Halloween Party in the night club known as Asylum, the place was already busy. She'd snuck in through a hatch in the roof, she'd had to break the lock on the hatch to get in though – she felt slightly guilty for destroying their property, but it was only a padlock, it was easily replaceable.
There were black balloons everywhere in the night club, ghostly figures, people in costume, and the bars were selling drinks cheap – some new concoctions were tainted with food colouring – and were blood red, bright orange, or purple. Rogue smirked a little, feeling right at home against all the other costumed patrons.
Rogue bought a few drinks and found a table, and she sat watching the other people dance, she wished she hadn't come alone, but somewhat didn't regret having come. She thought about Remy – and wondered sullenly what he was doing at that precise moment. She had horrid visions of him with this other woman – this Bella Donna. Rogue was scared he might be with her at that very moment, perhaps they were making love – in ways that Remy and herself would never ever experience.
Rogue sipped her drink, with her idle hand tracing imaginary love-hearts on the tabletop, she was beginning to feel concern that this situation with Remy might not be the best thing. After all, everything that had happened in the past few months had made sure a relationship would not be easy to acquire, why should she think that this would have changed now?
She thought about Remy as she'd seen him standing at the very bar she was looking at now, him with his mussed dark brown hair, his chiselled good looks and his stylish clothes.
Rogue would have given anything for him to be there at that bar right then, where she could see him, and scrutinise him, at least he'd be so close she'd be able to touch him – even if the cotton of his shirts and the leather of her gloves would be between them, at least he'd be close enough to touch, that'd be the next best thing.
What am I doing here alone, she pondered wearily. She wished one of the others had come with her,
As she watched people slide across the dance floor in their ghoulish costumes, she was reminded of the night she'd first entered the club with Kitty Pryde. She'd been outside the club before, never inside, yet, remembered vaguely lying to Kitty that she'd been there before – as if she were maybe trying to convince Kitty that she had belonged somewhere – that there was somewhere she did fit in.
That night played itself in her head in vague pieces. Some things about that night, she had been too drunk to remember the next day, but dancing with Remy, it stood out so clearly in her mind, how she'd grabbed his bare hand, and begun to dance with him drunkenly across the dance floor. That seemed as if it were the first time she'd ever reached out to touch him willingly. She wouldn't have guessed then, through all the hatred she was feeling towards him, that she might have fallen for him, but something about him drew her in – it was almost like an addiction…
"It's true, I swear it."
Rogue could hear people talking over the music, their voices loud to drown out a heavy Marilyn Manson song, Rogue had little choice but to listen in, since they were so near her table.
"It's nothing more than a rumour, dude."
Rogue glanced up, there were two men – who's backs faced her - one with very long dark brown hair braided at the back of his head, he was swathed in black, the other man was wearing a bandana, and a pirates costume, a fake hook dangling from his fingertips. Rogue resisted the urge to tell them to go somewhere else to talk, that she wanted to wallow in the despair in total solitude, and think about the man she couldn't be with.
But she didn't, she held her tongue, and listened.
"It's not a rumour, I know this guy…he can get it…" the Pirate remarked.
"How do you know it works?" the man with the braid queried, he was leaning near a stone pillar, a drink in his free hand.
"The guy out there swears he's a mutant," the Pirate explained, "said he took the shit and now he's normal…"
"So he took a pill once, and now he's not a mutant," the one with the braid sounded sceptical, "doesn't sound possible."
Rogue raised an eyebrow, looking at both of their backs, listening intently.
"No, you have to keep taking the pills," the Pirate responded to his friend, "but it's guaranteed to stop it…"
Rogue got up from her table slowly, "excuse me…" she called to their backs.
They both turned around, and looked at her, one seemed amused, especially at the snowy streaks in her hair, the other seemed slightly attracted to her. "What?" asked the one with the braid.
"I couldn't help overhearing, what's this pill you're talking about?" she kept her eyes on the Pirate, who'd seemed to have all the answers.
The Pirate had intense blue eyes, and when he spoke, Rogue felt as if she were swimming in those eyes, especially as he told her the words. "I know a guy who claims to be some sort of genius, can give a mutant a pill, turn them human for a spell," he explained.
Rogue felt her breath catching in her throat, could this be true? "That's impossible…" she stated, seeming to remember hearing his friend say something quite similar, "it isn't like mutants have a disease…it's a genetic abnormality," she pointed out.
"Right, and these pills are supposedly like DNA replacement therapy or some shit," Pirate gave a shrug.
Rogue looked at him, could this be true? It sounded like some sort of crazy rumour alright, just as the man with the braided hair seemed to believe. Yet inside she felt as if it could be true – Hank McCoy had used some kind of serum to slow his mutation process down and keep his mutation under control up until joining the X-Men. If that had been possible, wasn't it possible these pills could be too?
"Where…can I find the guy who can give these pills out?" Rogue queried.
"You can't…" the Pirate stated with a smirk.
Rogue squinted, and grabbed him by the throat, pushing him forcefully against the pillar with her superhuman strength, "tell me!"
"Okay, Okay!" the Pirate's eyes bulged out of his head, his face tainted with fear, he was trembling violently. "He hangs out in the abandoned toy factory on the end of Greer Street! That's all I know!" he put his hands up as if to defend himself.
"There now, that wasn't difficult at all, now, was it, Sugar?" she smirked, she let him go, and stepped back, "what's his name…?"
"Pinocchio," the Pirate stuttered.
Rogue began to head for the doorway, intent on heading straight for that abandoned toy factory, the had crossed the room halfway when she realised that she was in trouble.
Logan was standing at the entrance to the hallway, and he was looking right at her, he didn't look so amused.
"Shit…" she whispered under her breath, she began to walk over sheepishly.
"That's three times you've played us for fools, Rogue," Logan muttered, he grabbed her by the elbow, "c'mon."
Rogue let him drag her out of the club, and out into the cold street, he threw her towards the van, forcefully but not to hurt her, just to give her a taste of how angry he was, "I can explain…" Rogue lied.
"Bullshit," Logan unlocked the van, "get in," he instructed.
Rogue climbed in and sat down, pulling on her seatbelt. Logan got in to the drivers seat and started up the van. "Does the professor know?" she asked quietly.
"Not yet," Logan replied haughtily, "but he's going to, once we get back."
"Logan, I just…"
"Y'know, ever since you met that Cajun asswipe you've been actin' out of sorts. I let you away with the first time because I thought you were just venting frustration, the second time I wasn't even around for," he muttered, "I didn't have much proof," he added.
Rogue looked at him, "how did you know there was a second time?" she demanded.
"Came across some of Kitty's clothes in a hamper in the Laundry room that had the stink of booze on them, and Kitty's not the type to go bar hopping," Logan stated.
Rogue looked away guiltily, "Y'know, I can play Mr Nice Guy, hard as it is to do, I'm willing to cut a kid some slack – I know you've had it hard, Rogue, I don't deny that at all," he kept his eyes on the road, "and I won't deny I probably pulled a similar stunt when I was your age – if I could remember ever bein' your age," he stated, "but fact is, you don't bite the hand that feeds you…fact is, I told you the first time I'd let you away with it only once, you've done this three times now, and this time you're not getting away with it."
"But, Logan…" Rogue looked at him pleadingly.
"Don't give me that puppy dog eye crap, Rogue, I'm not falling for it – just sit there, and shut up," he warned.
"You're not my father!" Rogue spat at him, the words spilled of her like a ruptured water main, she almost regretted saying it.
Logan stopped the van, and turned towards her, his eyes blazing, "yeah, you're right, I'm NOT your father," he frowned, "but if I don't act as if I am, who the fuck is?"
His words felt like acid on raw flesh, they stung, she looked away again, severe emotion building behind her eyes.
"That Cajun is a bad influence on you," Logan muttered, he lit a cigar, and smoke filled the inside of the van, Rogue didn't even budge to open a window, "I wish I'd never made you two go out together, maybe you wouldn't be actin' this way now if I hadn't," he muttered.
"It wasn't you," Rogue finally said.
"What's going on with you, you used to be a good kid, Rogue, now you're out drinkin', Hank told me you're flirtin' and goin' out with the Cajun after curfew…" Logan said. "I wouldn't like to think that you two are doin' things you shouldn't…" he trailed off.
"We aren't," Rogue assured, she rubbed her head a little, "are you going to tell the professor…"
Logan made a face, "Afraid so…"
Rogue carefully slipped off one of her gloves, "I'm sorry, Logan," she murmured.
"For?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
"This…" Rogue placed her bare hand upon his own, that was curled tightly around the steering wheel, the van swerved, and he let out a gasp, his eyes glazed over, his mouth hanging open as if he wanted to cry out in pain but could not.
Rogue closed her eyes tightly trying to fight out the images that came into her mind, Logan's thoughts, his feelings, his senses, his powers. She let go of Logan, he slumped forward onto the wheel, upon the horn that began to beep loudly, she pushed him slightly aside and slipped her own leg through where his own were and hit the brakes, the van pulled to a stop.
Rogue pulled him off the steering wheel and pushed him so his head was back against the head rest, she put her bare hand against his covered chest, making sure there was still a heart beat. Yes, it was still there, still strong.
Rogue reminded herself that Logan healed quicker, he would probably come to soon enough. In the meantime, she climbed out, watching him carefully. She had very little time to do what she'd set to do.
