Metal Slabs

It was the pressure on her cheekbone that woke her up. Her right cheek was numb. Her entire body was chilled. She shivered, drawing her knees to her chest for warmth. Her head felt like dead weight on her shoulders; her neck seemed to ache from supporting it. After her groggy and uninviting return to consciousness came, she resigned herself to the fact that she would eventually have to open her eyes. She did it experimentally, sighing with relief that the lights above her were dimmed. She slowly lifted herself up into a sitting position, wincing at the amount of energy the simple action took. She rubbed the crick in her neck and for the first time took a look around her cell.

It was entirely metal, but gleaming metal; as though every ounce of the floor, walls and bars had been polished. Her 'bed' was nothing more than a cold metal slab. There was a metal sink and toilet in one corner; Rogue threw them a disparaging glance.

"Not de coziest tings, eh?"

Rogue jumped. Cautiously, she leaned over until she could see out the corner of her bars. Unlike the inside of her cell, the outside was a bright white. It looked like a lab, sterile with a sickening scent. It reminded her of a veterinarian's office. There was a constant hum in the hallways, the same annoyingly monotone sound that mosquitoes made. She assumed it was from the scores of fluorescent lights that drowned the corridor in white.

"Who are you?"

"Jus' a prisoner. Like you."

Rogue shook her head, still craning to see her bodiless voice. "No. Ah shouldn't be a prisoner. Ah haven't done anything."

The voice snorted. "You a mutant. Dat be reason enough."

"Ah don't understand." Rogue reached for the bars. "Who are they an' why-" she never had the chance to finish, a stinging zap sent her scrambling backwards while rubbing her tingling palms. She swore as she examined them, feeling odd jitters traveling up her arms.

The voice chuckled. "Don' take you too long to learn dat lesson, non?"

Rogue sat against the cold wall, glaring into the darkness. "It ain't funny."

The voice was still laughing softly. "No. But it not so bad. Consider yo'self lucky."

To be quite honest, Rogue didn't really feel like talking. But at the moment, talking seemed to eat up time and time seemed like it would be all she had for a while. "Ya sure seem to know a lot 'bout this place."

She guessed that the voice was probably taking a moment to shrug judging by the slight pause before he answered. "I had de tour. It got lots o' space but lacks character."

His calmness rubbed off on her. Their current predicament didn't seem so bad by his standards, whatever they might be. But she had the nagging feeling that his humour was merely a cover-up. "Yer accent. Where's that from?"

"Louisiana. De bayou."

Rogue hummed, flexing her fingers as feeling returned to them. "Long way from home."

The voice grunted. "Tell me 'bout it."

His voice was hoarse, almost weathered. He sounded like a man with a past, a dangerous history. But as he was her only companion, Rogue felt obliged to keep the conversation light and friendly. "What's yer name?"

This time there was a drawn silence, as though the voice was picking from a slough of names to feed her. She doubted, rightfully so, that he would give her a straight answer. "Gambit."

She repeated the name in her mind, wondering silently at its meaning and why he used it. She was also more intrigued than ever to find out his real name. "Ma name's Rogue."

"I know."

The room was called the War Room; Charles would have preferred the title he gave it: The Research Room. Yet for reasons unknown to him, the X-Men could not bring themselves to call it anything other than the War Room. He grimaced at the title. They were not the Department of Defence, but for all intent purposes they mimicked its finer points.

Xavier, Storm and Wolverine leaned over the table that contained a 3-D map. It had always struck Wolverine as something that Magneto would have favoured; the images floated as though controlled by magnetism with little flecks of slate that formed themselves into perfect models of cityscape by simple commands. Right now, they were examining the city of Rochester.

"If he teleported as you say he did, Logan, than there's really no way we can track his movements."

Wolverine's eyebrows furrowed in frustration and he sought to control the anger that seeped through his words. "Can't you use Cerebro? Isn't that what that thing's for?"

Storm glanced at him quickly. He knew she was observing him, reading his emotions but by her gracious nature refusing to comment on them.

"I've already searched with Cerebro. This mutant, whoever he is, is much more powerful than I ever expected him to be."

Logan slammed a fist down on the edge of the table; Storm winced. "'Than you expected him to be'? What the hell did we go in there for then? To make sure he wasn't a stuffed animal? You knew he was powerful." Logan stared at Xavier with eyes narrowed into slits, while Xavier met his gaze impassively. "Rogue could be dead now thanks to you."

"Logan." Storm's voice had taken on a warning tone, but Wolverine could care less. He was infuriated by their calm; the fact that one of their own – and their youngest – had been snatched from under their noses did not seem to faze them.

"She's not dead, Logan." Xavier's voice fell a notch. "I would have felt it if she had."

Wolverine glared at them both. Storm placed a hand on Xavier's shoulder but she gazed at him compassionately. Wolverine snorted at them and stormed out.

A teenager blocking his path stopped him short outside the door. There were dark rings under Bobby Drake's eyes as though he hadn't slept for a year. The kid was pale and gaunt-looking and he stood nervously with his hands jammed in his jean's pockets. "What did they say?" He asked quietly.

Wolverine eyed him sharply. "I thought you were supposed to be sleeping."

Bobby waved off the question. "Couldn't. Can they find Rogue?"

Wolverine shook his head and brushed by Bobby, leaving the teenager scrambling to catch up. "Well, are they going after her? What are we going to do?"

Wolverine stopped at the elevator and whirled on the kid. He pressed a hard finger into Bobby's chest. "You're going to bed. I'm gonna go look for her."

Bobby's cheeks flushed for a quick moment, before a determined look settled on his face. "I'm not a kid Wolverine. And wherever you go, I'm going too."

Logan opened his mouth to object but Bobby beat him to it. "You're not the only one who cares for her."

Logan's mouth snapped shut. He studied Bobby, finally realizing that if he didn't take the boy with him, then he'd probably go anyway and get himself into more trouble without him. Wolverine grumbled under his breath and roughly grabbed the neck of Bobby's sweater and hauled him inside the elevator. He slammed to button to reach the main floor and then waved his finger in Bobby's face. "You listen to whatever I tell you and keep your mouth shut, got it?"

The usual worried look reappeared on Bobby's face suddenly. He nodded quickly.

The elevator stopped with a jolt. Wolverine swore and began punching the button impatiently. To his utter bafflement, the elevator began a descent back where they came. As the steel door opened, Wolverine exhaled deeply to find Xavier and Storm facing him with cool looks.

"You're not a lone wolf, Logan. And this," he gestured to Bobby, "is not your trusty sidekick. You perform on a team now, and the team will function as one. Any rescue mission will be orchestrated by myself and will be lead by Storm."

Wolverine stared at Storm who met his eyes with a stony countenance of her own.

"This is still, first and foremost, a school, Logan. If you want to run the operations of the X-Men, I suggest you become a Professor."

Gambit was quite talkative given the circumstances. He jabbered on about New Orleans and the best venues for live acts in the city, but carefully stayed away from any subject that might be associated with their current state. It was also evident that the further Rogue retreated into a despairing silence, the more Gambit compensated for her lack of conversation. It eventually came to the point where Rogue muttered distracted yes or no's to most of Gambit's questions, if at all.

Gambit paused, racking his brain for a question that she would have to answer. "Okay, I got one. How is it you come to be part o' de X-Men? An' I want de whole story, none o' de yes or no variety."

Rogue shrugged, even though Gambit could not see the reaction. Then she became confused. "How do ya know about the X-Men?"

She heard a soft snort of laughter. "Lots o' mutants know 'bout de X-Men. Just like lots o' mutants know 'bout Magneto's crew an' all dat happened at your school while back."

Rogue's interest was now piqued. She shimmied over to edge of her cell again so she could hear everything that Gambit was saying. "How?"

His voice became low and dangerously edgy again, giving rise to Rogue's suspicions that he was not society's most astute citizen. "Word travels fast in certain circles."

"So is this Magneto's crew that's doing this to us?"

There was a long silence and Rogue listened attentively to Gambit's slow exhale and ensuing words. "No. Dis ain't Magneto. Magneto's a walk in de park compared to dis."

"What? What's 'this'?"

Just as Gambit was about to answer, the loud creak and clang of a large metal door opening and closing caught their attention. The sound of high-heeled boots striding forcefully on the ground made Rogue scoot back in the corner of her cell. The boots stopped outside her companion's cell.

"Nice outfit, Invetro."

Gambit's remark was followed by his swearing and pained grunts.

"It's Vertigo, asshole. You'd better learn to smarten up before I put you out of commission for good."

There was the sound of her boots walking again and then stopping in front of Rogue's cell. Rogue was huddled against the wall beside her metal bed.

"Awww." The mocking tone of superficial sympathy made Rogue look up. She recognized the white and green streaked hair but the woman now wore a black leather skirt and bright red baby tee. She was smirking down at Rogue. "Isn't she cute when she's scared?"

Rogue was about to retort; to defend herself or at least tell the woman off, but instead she turned her head so she wasn't looking at Vertigo. The humming in the hall abruptly stopped. It was then that Rogue realized that the lights didn't make the sound; it was the electrified barrier that encased the metal bars of her cell. Vertigo slapped the side of the wall and the metal bars slid into a crevice in the wall. She stepped inside, keeping a safe distance between herself and Rogue.

"We can do this my way or your way, but I promise that with my way, at least you'll be alive at the end of the day."

Rogue glowered at her. "An' that's a good thing?"

Vertigo's right eyebrow raised. "Good point."

Vertigo took one more step towards her, but that was all the encouragement Rogue needed. She stood on her own and brushed past Vertigo aggressively. Vertigo trotted to catch up to the girl who was now walking down the white-lit hallway. Vertigo jabbed her in the back, making Rogue stop and eye her sharply.

"Wrong way, dumbass."

Rogue rolled her eyes at the shorter woman but followed her down the opposite hall. It was lucky though, for this new direction gave her the glimpse she needed of her companion.

His cell was darker than hers, and like she had, he was sitting dejectedly on his bed with his knees drawn up to his chest. What little she could see of him struck her as odd; she hadn't pictured him quite so young. He could not be more than a few years older than herself judging by his smooth skin and messy brown hair. He had stubble that looked like it was eternally present and the hands that were wrapped around his knees had chewed off fingernails. As he lifted his head to meet her gaze, Rogue gave a surprised gasp. The whites of his eyes were non-existent; there was only a hollow blackness. The iris surrounding his black pupil was a glowing red, and right now they were focused intently on her gaping expression. The left side of his mouth hitched upwards in a slanted and devious smile.

To Rogue's surprise, she found herself smiling back.

Vertigo swore under her breath at the two teenagers and pushed Rogue roughly past Gambit's cell.