Yay! I'm updating again! It's sure taking me long enough isn't it? Oh well, y'all forgive me, right? ….. and if you don't than just read. Lol, enjoy!
Oh! And all song suggestions are greatly appreciated, thanks girl number 1! I like the dear diary song and I think I'll use it. The song really works for the story! And I'm DEFINITELY using more evanescence!!!!!
Okay, enjoy!
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Two years.
It had been two years since the man known as Wolverine had been 'murdered' by the agency. They had decided that, due to her new invulnerability, Rogue no longer needed him. He was even a liability, due to their close connection. They didn't want her to remember who she was.
He remembered that day so vividly it made the moment pale in comparison. He had been dragged from his cell to another room filled with agents. In the center, everyone else keeping a safe distance, was Rogue.
At least, it was her body that stood so tall and proud. He wasn't sure who was lurking behind her empty gaze.
"Rogue?" He had whispered. He still hated his voice for shaking.
She didn't even acknowledge that she'd heard him. She was tense, motionless.
"Kill him." The command was spoken by the man Logan had 'met' in the bar all those months before. His gray eyes were steel as they followed the movements of the would-be assassin.
She didn't even hesitate. And that hurt more than the blows that followed.
"Mr. Logan? Are you okay?" The young voice, so like Rogue's in it's concern for him, brought him out of his reverie.
"Yeah half-pint. I'm fine." He flashed her a halfhearted grin. It was a comical scene. The big tough brawler looking guy conversing with the petite freshman. He took another sip of his beer. Normally he wasn't allowed to drink at the institute, but if any one tried to stop him today, they'd regret it.
Some things hurt too much to remember without it.
He could tell Kitty was eyeing his bottle disapprovingly. "Do you realize how like, bad that is for you?" She asked, cocking her head. For a genius she sure asked dumb questions.
"No." He drawled. "Why don't you enlighten me."
She paused, not expecting that answer. "Uh, well, like, really really bad!"
"I'll keep that in mind." He took another sip.
"Are you sure you're okay? I mean, you never drink anymore, not since the professor like, uh, asked you to stop."
He snorted at her delicate reference to the shouting match he'd had with Xavier. He still didn't know why he had given in to the bald guy. Maybe he really was getting soft. It hadn't been until he had pointed out the students would be watching his example that Logan finally stopped to think about it. He couldn't help but remember trying to talk Rogue out of going with him to the bar. It was so long ago, but he could still here her southern drawl declaring that he was "No fun, mister."
He didn't want to fail anyone else like he had failed her.
Maybe if he'd have been a better example, trusted her more, or tried to lead a more respectable life, she wouldn't have been taken. Maybe they'd still be together.
The freshman was still eyeing him in concern. "Mr. Logan?"
"Some things are better left unsaid kid. Jeans waiting for you. Have fun at the mall." He took another sip, ignoring her. After a few moments she turned and left, leaving him alone with his memories.
He had never told anyone about Rogue. The professor knew, but only because the memories of their friendship had been what brought him back from the brink of sanity. When the X-men had found him, he was half-crazy, stumbling in the Canadian woods like a wild man. Xavier had gone into his head, forcing the memories to resurface, saving what was left of the man known as Logan.
The professor had seen everything. He had stayed up countless hours, unable to sleep for the horrifying scenes that plagued him.
The fact that Wolverine was still alive said something, though both men were afraid to vocalize their idea. Rogue could have killed him . . . should have. But something had stopped her right before she finished the job. As far as anyone else could tell, he was dead. It had taken days for him to wake up as it was. But Rogue knew, she had to have known, that he was still breathing, however slightly, but she hadn't finished him off.
Maybe he hadn't imagined the flash of pain he thought he'd seen in her eyes before she struck the final blow.
Whatever the case, he was alive. And so was Rogue, wherever she was. Occasionally there would be murders on the news. Secret government agents, or brilliant scientists found dead in their own homes, without a mark on them.
It was Rogue.
He'd have known that even if a security camera hadn't picked up a flash of white streaked brown hair. There was never any sign of a battle. She didn't need to fight, though she could.
All she needed was a touch.
He didn't want to think about what this was doing to her already fragile psyche.
He drained the last of his drink and headed to the fridge for another.
Today was gonna be a long day.
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"Hey Sugah."
The middle-aged security glanced up and froze. Standing before him was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen.
And her outfit didn't help his breathing ability at all.
The black halter-top went perfectly with the dark leather pants. Her boots were leather too, the heel making her already impressive height model-like. Black gloves covered both hands, making her look tougher than most women her age. The spikes on her choker were the only things not black on her and they glinted ominously as she walked towards him.
"Ah don't suppose y'all know what room Mr. Ishida is in?" A lock of white hair escaped from the tumbling cluster of brown and fell across one of her exotic emerald eyes.
"I uh . . . I, that is, I . . . I . . ." He swallowed hard. "Sure." His voice came out higher than normal. "It's room sixty two, B."
She nodded, smiling slightly. His heart threatened to stop beating. "Alright, than there's just one more thing you can do for me."
"What's that?" He leaned forward, forgetting his wife and kids at the sight of her smile.
He died before he heard the gunshot. Calmly she tucked it back into the back of her pants. "Ah can't have any witnesses, now can Ah?" She spoke to the corpse as if she were talking to a friendly acquaintance. "That just wouldn't do at all. Thank you for your help."
She stepped over the lifeless body and headed for the stairs. Not bothering to climb up them, she lifted her body into the air and flew to the room her target was staying in.
62B
She didn't knock before entering. The scientist from Japan looked up, startled, at the intrusion. "Yes miss? Can I help you?" The fact that he was a puddle of hormones said something for him.
She slowly pried of a glove, finger by finger. "Why yes sir, you can." She let the glove drop the floor extending her hand. "Ah just wanted to say, Ah really love your research."
He reached forward to clasp her hand, smiling so warmly she almost felt guilty. "Why thank you Miss, I was just--" Their fingers touched and she gripped his hand in hers, refusing to relinquish the contact.
His memories flew into her, faster and faster, hurting her but no longer overwhelming her as in her earlier days. Calmly she sorted through them, her face a mask, until she found the ones she needed. Knowledge of a dozen or so top secret experiments filled her mind as she finally released his hand.
He fell to the floor, lifeless.
Mission Complete.
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Red eyes blinked slowly as the sound of retreating footsteps finally faded. The man known as Gambit for both his nature and choice weapon slid slowly out of the closet he had been waiting in.
It was a well-known fact that Mr. Ishida was wealthy. It was rumored he had even brought some of his wealth with him to the America's, just in case. That was why Remy was here. It had been his plan to wait until the scientist left before easing out of his hiding place and searching through his belongings. It was a routine job. Get in, wait, find, and get out. Simple. But apparently a skunk-haired beauty hadn't been in on the plan.
He had seen the entire ordeal, deathly quiet within the closet. The southerner had walked in, shook hands with him, and left. His mind was already toying with the notion of the gorgeous woman with the poison touch. An image of her tragic beauty filled his mind. The image came complete with the scene of Ishida's murder. The tragedy of her lovely features swiftly turned terrifying. He had seen the news reports. This was the nameless assassin. The killer that never left a mark.
He shuddered as he remembered the emptiness in her eyes as her skin had touched his. There was no remorse, no guilt. It was terrifying.
He left without taking anything. The man had been robbed of something far more precious than money and Remy wasn't going to make the blow any more difficult than it had to be for his family.
And as he walked down the darkened streets, he struggled to forget the haunting vision of the assassin's eyes.
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Okay, so there wasn't much Rogue angst in this chapter. More to come I promise! What'd ya think? I know I skimmed forward a whole lot. Rogue is seventeen now, making Remy nineteen. He's been on his own a while now, stealing whenever a nice opportunity comes up. Wolverine is with the X-men but you'll find out more about him as we go along. Now, let me know what you think, k?! Please!
Rogue Pryde