Rogue clawed at the restricting collar but it refused to budge. Panting, she tried again but only ended up with wasted energy. Lying on the white bed, she took in the white room, it's whiteness blinding her eyes.
She wasn't insane but this place was making her become crazed. Wanting to throw something colorful into the blandness of the room, she could only vent her frustration by screaming. Her cry voiced rage, sadness and broken pieces of her life.
Her energy spent, Rogue crawled under the covers, refusing to budge when nurses came in with food, only to take it away again untouched.
She hadn't eaten for a week ever since the shock therapy. Hearing the door open, she became irritated and snapped, "Ah told yah already, Ah don't feel lahke eatin'."
"Aw chere, you're breakin' Remy's heart wit' t'at tone of voice."
Her heart quickened at his husky voice and she sat up, hair falling into her face. Looking stupidly at him, she demanded, "What're yah doin' here, swamp rat?"
He smiled that maddening smile of his as he took a chair and casually relaxed on it. "'cos Remy felt like visitin' this beautiful fille."
She remarked shrewdly, "Dun' seem lahke it. Ah think someone sent yah."
Fingering his cards, Gambit feigned a hurt look. "Chere, you callin' Remy a liar?" From the inside of his trenchcoat, he pulled out a simple rose. Rogue stared at it. "For you."
Enchanted by its flowering beauty, Rogue's fingers wrapped itself around the green stem only to recoil from its thorns. Taking more care to hold the rose in her hand, she closed her eyes, taking in the faint smell. Rogue despised bouquets as they were much to large and elaborate, but a single flower struck her as thoughtful and much more beautiful. A small smile played on her lips and she looked up to the serious eyes of her red-eyed angel.
A low whisper. "Don't get flowers much?"
"Thank you," was her reply.
He rested his chin on the backseat of the chair. "Wasn't much of a flower, chere. Not'ing to get teary about."
She laughed, something she hadn't done in a while. "Name's Rogue." His quizzical eyes prompted her to say, "Seriously. Ah don't remember what my name used to be."
"Really?" He mused thoughtfully. "Well, Remy t'inks t'at you looks like a Marie." He nodded decisively. "Yep, Marie."
"Marie." The name rolled like a foreign word on her tongue, but it intrigued her.
"Mind if Remy calls chere Marie from now on?"
She smiled, finally having found her light in this darkness. "Marie's fine."
------------------------------
"What's the matter with my daughter?? Why do they have her locked up like some mad person?!"
Irene calmly waited for Mystique's anger to cool down. "Rogue is supposedly suffering from paranoia schizophrenia." Before Mystique opened her mouth to protest such absurdity, Irene continued wearily, "It's the best explanation they have for Rogue's irregular behavior."
Studying Irene, Mystique said softly, "But you suspect something else."
Tapping the floor with her stick, Irene nodded and said, "I've been having the same dream for many nights in a row." She paused. "And I can no longer see Rogue's future."
"What do you mean by that?"
Irene kept musing as if Mystique was not there. "Yes, I wondered how such a thing was possible until the answer came to me." Shaking her head, she continued, "Of course! I was such a fool not to realize it before."
"Fool! Tell me what you saw!"
Once more waiting for Mystique's anger to subdue, Irene remembered out loud, "Rogue is sitting in a garden of white roses, her world of innocence untainted by the world. Her sky becomes black and blood drips from the sky, staining her white roses red. Her lips have been sewn shut and I can't hear her cries. Everything is engulfed in blackness, leaving only Rogue's limp body.
Her body jerks and she begans to move again once more. Light falls upon her and the background has changed to a play theatre. Her hands and feet jerk, strings attached to her like she was some kind of marionette. Someone was controlling her and when I looked up, many faces leered back at me from above the curtains."
She lulled to a stop, and Mystique prompted, "What did it mean?"
"The psyches in her head have become too powerful, powerful enough to control her brain. She fought for it to the very end but she still lost." She added softly, "She is subject to their every command."
Mystique sucked in a breath. "But, Charles would have known this! He would have removed the psyches immediately!"
Irene let out a dry chuckle. "Charles reminds me of an overprotective father; his desire for Rogue to be perfectly fine blinded his sight of Rogue's true condition. Besides, he can not remove the psyches in fear that it would kill Rogue." She said thoughtfully, "But removing the psyches are our only option; they may be the reason for Rogue's blank future."
Mystique despaired, "Then there's no hope? Nobody can help my daughter?"
Irene regarded her carefully before saying, "I know somebody who can."
-----------------------------
Rogue woke up in a cold sweat. Her mouth had kept in the scream itching to burst out and she sucked in short breaths of air to calm herself. Her eyes closed at the all too vivid dream; blood-stained roses, empty black skies, and the strings. She shivered and wondered what it all meant.
'About time you woke up.'
'Did you enjoy your dream?'
'Stupid, foolish little girl...'
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she screeched. Rogue kept muttering like a crazed person, trying to block out the persistant voices in her head. She would not cry! She would not succumb to them!
Arms encircled around her protectively and she kept muttering into his arms. "Stop, stop, stop, stop, please..." She didn't question his existence in her cage of a room.
Turning her around so that she faced him, Gambit touched her cheek gently. Not noticing that she was making skin-to-skin contact with him, she cried to his face, "Why won't they stop?"
Rocking her like she was a child, Remy shushed her and planted a brotherly kiss on her forehead.
This Rogue noticed.
Her green eyes flickered from his lips to his smoldering eyes. Question marked her eyes but she remembered the collar on her neck. He touched her lips gently with his finger.
Struggling with her emotions, she felt tortured in this cage and being able to touch left her feeling not liberated, but rather, vulnerable to the world.
'Entry number something. Ah can touch,' she mentally noted not with joy, but with regret.
A/N: Two chappies in one day! Whoo me! Now click the button down there, and submit your reviews, plz.
Oh, and to those out there asking for romys or rietros, if this story's not turning out the way you want it to, don't let it stop you from reading! There are more to stories than the love pairings, ya know.
She wasn't insane but this place was making her become crazed. Wanting to throw something colorful into the blandness of the room, she could only vent her frustration by screaming. Her cry voiced rage, sadness and broken pieces of her life.
Her energy spent, Rogue crawled under the covers, refusing to budge when nurses came in with food, only to take it away again untouched.
She hadn't eaten for a week ever since the shock therapy. Hearing the door open, she became irritated and snapped, "Ah told yah already, Ah don't feel lahke eatin'."
"Aw chere, you're breakin' Remy's heart wit' t'at tone of voice."
Her heart quickened at his husky voice and she sat up, hair falling into her face. Looking stupidly at him, she demanded, "What're yah doin' here, swamp rat?"
He smiled that maddening smile of his as he took a chair and casually relaxed on it. "'cos Remy felt like visitin' this beautiful fille."
She remarked shrewdly, "Dun' seem lahke it. Ah think someone sent yah."
Fingering his cards, Gambit feigned a hurt look. "Chere, you callin' Remy a liar?" From the inside of his trenchcoat, he pulled out a simple rose. Rogue stared at it. "For you."
Enchanted by its flowering beauty, Rogue's fingers wrapped itself around the green stem only to recoil from its thorns. Taking more care to hold the rose in her hand, she closed her eyes, taking in the faint smell. Rogue despised bouquets as they were much to large and elaborate, but a single flower struck her as thoughtful and much more beautiful. A small smile played on her lips and she looked up to the serious eyes of her red-eyed angel.
A low whisper. "Don't get flowers much?"
"Thank you," was her reply.
He rested his chin on the backseat of the chair. "Wasn't much of a flower, chere. Not'ing to get teary about."
She laughed, something she hadn't done in a while. "Name's Rogue." His quizzical eyes prompted her to say, "Seriously. Ah don't remember what my name used to be."
"Really?" He mused thoughtfully. "Well, Remy t'inks t'at you looks like a Marie." He nodded decisively. "Yep, Marie."
"Marie." The name rolled like a foreign word on her tongue, but it intrigued her.
"Mind if Remy calls chere Marie from now on?"
She smiled, finally having found her light in this darkness. "Marie's fine."
------------------------------
"What's the matter with my daughter?? Why do they have her locked up like some mad person?!"
Irene calmly waited for Mystique's anger to cool down. "Rogue is supposedly suffering from paranoia schizophrenia." Before Mystique opened her mouth to protest such absurdity, Irene continued wearily, "It's the best explanation they have for Rogue's irregular behavior."
Studying Irene, Mystique said softly, "But you suspect something else."
Tapping the floor with her stick, Irene nodded and said, "I've been having the same dream for many nights in a row." She paused. "And I can no longer see Rogue's future."
"What do you mean by that?"
Irene kept musing as if Mystique was not there. "Yes, I wondered how such a thing was possible until the answer came to me." Shaking her head, she continued, "Of course! I was such a fool not to realize it before."
"Fool! Tell me what you saw!"
Once more waiting for Mystique's anger to subdue, Irene remembered out loud, "Rogue is sitting in a garden of white roses, her world of innocence untainted by the world. Her sky becomes black and blood drips from the sky, staining her white roses red. Her lips have been sewn shut and I can't hear her cries. Everything is engulfed in blackness, leaving only Rogue's limp body.
Her body jerks and she begans to move again once more. Light falls upon her and the background has changed to a play theatre. Her hands and feet jerk, strings attached to her like she was some kind of marionette. Someone was controlling her and when I looked up, many faces leered back at me from above the curtains."
She lulled to a stop, and Mystique prompted, "What did it mean?"
"The psyches in her head have become too powerful, powerful enough to control her brain. She fought for it to the very end but she still lost." She added softly, "She is subject to their every command."
Mystique sucked in a breath. "But, Charles would have known this! He would have removed the psyches immediately!"
Irene let out a dry chuckle. "Charles reminds me of an overprotective father; his desire for Rogue to be perfectly fine blinded his sight of Rogue's true condition. Besides, he can not remove the psyches in fear that it would kill Rogue." She said thoughtfully, "But removing the psyches are our only option; they may be the reason for Rogue's blank future."
Mystique despaired, "Then there's no hope? Nobody can help my daughter?"
Irene regarded her carefully before saying, "I know somebody who can."
-----------------------------
Rogue woke up in a cold sweat. Her mouth had kept in the scream itching to burst out and she sucked in short breaths of air to calm herself. Her eyes closed at the all too vivid dream; blood-stained roses, empty black skies, and the strings. She shivered and wondered what it all meant.
'About time you woke up.'
'Did you enjoy your dream?'
'Stupid, foolish little girl...'
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she screeched. Rogue kept muttering like a crazed person, trying to block out the persistant voices in her head. She would not cry! She would not succumb to them!
Arms encircled around her protectively and she kept muttering into his arms. "Stop, stop, stop, stop, please..." She didn't question his existence in her cage of a room.
Turning her around so that she faced him, Gambit touched her cheek gently. Not noticing that she was making skin-to-skin contact with him, she cried to his face, "Why won't they stop?"
Rocking her like she was a child, Remy shushed her and planted a brotherly kiss on her forehead.
This Rogue noticed.
Her green eyes flickered from his lips to his smoldering eyes. Question marked her eyes but she remembered the collar on her neck. He touched her lips gently with his finger.
Struggling with her emotions, she felt tortured in this cage and being able to touch left her feeling not liberated, but rather, vulnerable to the world.
'Entry number something. Ah can touch,' she mentally noted not with joy, but with regret.
A/N: Two chappies in one day! Whoo me! Now click the button down there, and submit your reviews, plz.
Oh, and to those out there asking for romys or rietros, if this story's not turning out the way you want it to, don't let it stop you from reading! There are more to stories than the love pairings, ya know.