Chapter 3: Returning to Asylum

             After leaving Remy's room, Rogue headed upstairs into her own room, and sat on her bed, she didn't cry but she wanted to – just to get it out.  She searched through her drawer in the bedside cabinet, taking the small bottle of light blue liquid out, and looking at it.  She didn't want its temptation there any longer, reminding her of all the plans she'd made to be with Remy and now would never have them, what was it worth being there for? 

             She thought of a million ways to dispose of it, but the best way she felt was to take it, for if it was some poison concocted by Bella Donna – a bottle of bogus serum – then it wouldn't matter.  She had been through the pain of overdose already, nothing could have been worse, she felt more prepared than she ever had.

             Rogue yanked the cap off and tilted her head back down her throat, and prepared herself for the taste as she spilled it into her open mouth.

             It tasted distinctly like nail-polish remover.  Not that Rogue had ever been in the habit of drinking nail-polish remover, but once she'd bit her fingernail after having used some and the taste had been most unpleasant – this reminded her of that taste. 

             She empted the bottle completely and swallowed it, and tossed the empty bottle away, she swallowed and made a face, she lay back on her bed, and waited for the effects – whatever they might be.  And when no effects came, she felt disappointed that it had not been death.  Life had become one meaningless dreary existence from one day to the next, she could have thought of a thousand ways to do herself in – and the X-Men would always find a way to intervene.  Even bathroom doors had been altered – locks removed.  No painkillers, no chance of overdose, only electric shavers for the girls who liked to shave their legs, no razors to slash skin.  Rogue sighed and got up, she pulled the window open, and climbed out, taking to the air, graceful, almost bird like, arms stretched, legs together, she soared. 

             There was only one place to go on a Friday night – and that was Asylum.  A dark gothic-punk nightclub where she had been several times before, a couple of times with Kitty and Remy, and she was dressed in her usual gothic attire, enough to make her blend in with everyone else.

             The flight there was strenuous, her own body weight seemingly trying to pull her down, and she realised the serum seemed genuine, and that it looked like she was losing her powers. 

             She hadn't ever taken it of her own accord, and now she realised that she'd never felt her powers leave her before, it felt strange, almost as if her powers were doing the opposite of what they did to others – to absorb other peoples power – for now it felt as if her powers were being absorbed out of her.  She couldn't explain the draining sensation she felt, all she knew was she felt it. 

             Rogue arrived at Asylum just in time as her power of flight would barely hold her anymore, she landed with a rough thud on the roof, the lock on the hatch on the roof had never been repaired since the last time she'd been there – as if the owners of the club had never even notice it had been tampered with.  She pulled the hatch open, glanced in, the coast was clear.

             She slipped in.

             The club was a mass of dancing bodies dressed in black, donning leather, swathed in mesh, velvet and lace, their hair a sea of colours from the balcony she looked on from.  She headed down a small staircase, and headed to the bar, buying herself a drink, she stood against a wall, watching as the patrons danced.

             She'd always felt drawn to the place, mainly because the people all looked like her – like misfits, but beautiful and interesting in their own unique ways.

             "Hi."

             Rogue turned, a familiar – yet somehow unfamiliar – face staring at her.  He had long brown wavy hair, and very intense light blue eyes.  She knew him, but she couldn't think from where.  "Hi…do I know you?" she asked.

             "Maybe you'd remember me if I was dressed as a pirate?"

             Rogue thought back, that had been right, Halloween, in this very spot, she'd seen him, him and a friend had been talking about the very drug she had taken tonight to suppress her powers, he'd been dressed as a pirate, and had seemed almost attracted to her – at least his expression had seemed to say so.

             "Oh…now I remember," Rogue blushed, "I'm sorry about that night, I was just in a bad mood," feigned a smile, she remembered having the guy by the throat.

             "It's fine," he smiled a little with his full pink lips, "So…I've seen you here a few times, you come here a lot?"

             "Sometimes," Rogue sipped on her drink, "You?"

             "Sometimes," he shrugged, "You usually come here with a guy, don't you?  Or another girl…boyfriend?  Girlfriend?  Or both?"

             "The guy…he was my boyfriend, or some kind of 'friend', we never got to the romantic stuff much so I guess its hard to know what I could have called him, the girl is my best friend," Rogue shrugged. 

             "They're…not like you…" the guy with long hair said.

             "They are, in their own ways," Rogue gave a shrug, she wasn't sure if the guy meant they didn't look like Goths – or they didn't look like mutants. 

             "You look down.  You look like you need some serious cheerin' up," he said, he reached to her empty glass, "let me get you another drink…whats your poison?"

             "Vodka…straight…" Rogue smiled a little, and with that, she watched him leave to get her drink.  The night might be interesting yet.

             Remy knocked on the door of Rogue's room, he was hoping to speak with her, he had a lot on his mind, he had a decision, a decision that might benefit them both – and only on her say so would he go through with it.  But first he needed to see her, just to confirm what her thoughts were.  She'd told him how she felt but he was sure that might not be her real feelings.  She always had a way of hiding her real feelings.  He believed she was very much in love with him still – but if she wasn't…

             If she wasn't, then he had an answer to both their problems.

             The door swung open, Kitty Pryde standing in her pyjamas – it was, after all, eleven pm.

             "Rogue here?" Remy asked, peering past Kitty, looking hopeful.

             "Why don't you just leave her alone, alright?" Kitty folded her arms.

             "I didn't ask you my thoughts on my relationship with her, I asked you if she's here," Remy retorted angrily.

             "No, she's not," Kitty said, "I actually thought she'd be with you – god knows why, she's so over you," Kitty stated, "she even told me that, and I'm her best friend…she wouldn't lie to me," Kitty stated.

             "Kitty, just stop talking out of your ass, okay…" Remy sighed.  "Will you tell her I want to see her when you see her?"

             "If I see her," Kitty remarked, and closed the door.

             Remy sighed, and muttered "Women," under his breath.

             Rogue felt strange, and she couldn't figure out why, at first she thought it might be the serum, but she'd had it before, and even in the larger dose she'd taken, surely it wouldn't have made her feel this bad?

             She felt strangely unsteady, her vision doubling, everything seemed unreal, running fast, and then slow, as if she were watching a DVD on fast forward or slow motion.  Voices and music blurred together, becoming a mash of sound she couldn't understand anymore. 

             "Are you alright?" she could make out one voice, the voice of the guy with the long brown hair, and the incredible blue eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, so intense and sympathetic to her.

             "I feel weird…" Rogue stumbled, she tried to walk away, trying to get her bearings, everything felt so confusing, she could barely remember where she was.  "I think I'm going to be sick…" she dry heaved.

             "Here, let me take you to the bathroom…"

             Rogue felt him grab onto her, and support her, and he led her down a separate hallway, she'd been there enough to know that she wasn't in the right place, she'd been to the bathrooms, they were down another hallway, weren't they?
             "Where are we going?" she asked, she staggered, and almost tripped.

             He caught her, "its alright, I'll take care of you…"

             "No…don't…" Rogue she pulled away from him, "I can take care of myself…" she swallowed, everything becoming more and more hazy, she fell, landing on the carpet.

             She didn't feel any pain when her head hit the floor, she was barely conscious by then.

             Remy LeBeau stood outside at the front porch, smoking a cigarette, "where is she?" he demanded of himself, he was the only one there, he glanced at his watch, it was two am, and she hadn't returned home.  Home?  Home from where, he wondered, where could she have gone?

             He sighed, he wasn't going to wait any longer.  He headed inside, sighing, and his heart breaking.