- SEVEN -
The night Cody's personality had taken over without really meaning to, she'd let it happen because she hadn't known what the hell was going on back then. But after that first time sitting in the back seat in her own mind, she'd resolved to avoid repeating the experience whenever she used her powers. And while her short time with Mystique had taught her a few things about mental balance (meditation, strange enough, being a hobby of the woman who liked to leave chaos in her wake), it was really in the sessions with the Professor that Rogue found a portion of control over what he called the 'cerebral aspects' of her mutant abilities.
It went a long way to easing her frustration in the lack of control over its physical aspects. Sure, she still had to wear the damn gloves and shy away from touch when she didn't want to use her powers. But the times she did use them, she rarely broke a sweat anymore.
Until now.
She'd once read an Astronomy book when she was eight for a book report in her science class. The picture of a black hole on the cover had caught her interest, and reading the paragraph that talked about how black holes were like vacuums that sucked entire galaxies into its gaping, unknown, forever kind of abyss—she'd wondered with elementary curiosity just how many stars and planets that kind of vacuum could take in before it got full and burst and the universe made up a new vacuum cleaner to take its place.
The memory had stayed with her, left enough of a mark so that when she sat in the study for her first session, listening to the Professor ask how she wanted to deal with the personality fragments absorbed that she couldn't contain peaceably, the image of a black hole instantly popped to mind.
So that's what they'd worked on in that first session, building on it later on her own, as over time her mental abyss sucked in Avalanche, Blob, Sabretooth, Mystique, Juggernaut, Magneto.
Each and every one of them had tried to escape.
The bit of Lucas causing ruckus in her mind now, fighting against the force of the black hole—he was no different.
"You can't stop me, you bloody amateur!" he said, scrambling away from the massive darkness behind him. "I'm a telepath—this is my domain."
It was a variation of the same old, but he was the son of the most powerful mutant mind alive, so maybe she had to settle this before he could get creative enough to make a real mess.
"This is my head, dumbass. So hush it."
In the real world, she sat herself on the base of a tree to rest her body, while inside her mind she drowned out Lucas's angry shouts with a muzzle. She could see him try to will it away, and maybe eventually he would've gotten it off—but eventually wouldn't help him against the slither of dark vacuum that shot out to grab him and pull him inside.
He broke away from its grasp.
Would've shocked her, but again, this was the Professor's son. She fortified the muzzle around his face, then shaped a jail cell out of the landscape, its bars facing three chairs. Kurt, Sam, and Jamie faded in a moment later, and as they took their seats, they nodded to her.
"Y'all know what to do," she said.
"Sir, yessir!" Jamie said, saluting her.
Her head, her rules, her friends—and at that, she slipped out of the mental landscape and fully back into the real world.
Her attention focused slowly there. First it was the hefty migraine spread around her head. Then the mud and leaves stuck all over her body. A new kind of hurt both hot and cold was starting to really numb her bones. Splinters from broken tree limbs were digging into her arms, side, back, and neck—hell, there was one in her ear. And an unfamiliar hand was hovering just in front of her face.
She had to blink through another bout of blurry vision before she could register that last one.
Yup, that was a hand, all right. A hand wearing tip-less gloves…attached to a brown-sleeved arm…connecting to a broad shoulder…that curved into the neck supporting the head of—
A poker-faced, red-eyed, brown-haired Acolyte.
"Need some help?" Gambit said, offering the one in front of her face even closer—almost to her cheek, in fact.
She geared back, trying not to reel from the wooziness the sudden movement brought on. She managed to glare at him as she shot her own hand forward, the borrowed TK lifting Gambit off his feet. With a harsh gesture, she sent him flying away, but he righted himself mid-air, pushing off with his knees against the tree he should've crashed into.
A quick somersault and he was landing nimbly on his legs in a crouch. "I'm not here to hurt you, Rogue," he said. "I saw you absorb that Lucas homme, I know you got some of his memories. Take a look at those and you'll see."
"Way ahead of you," she said. She knew he wasn't in cahoots with Lucas, but he was still here, lurking around uninvited in the wee hours of the night. "So, what? You're just moseyin' in here like a stray cat lookin' for help? You want I should bring out a milk pan?"
He stood from his crouch and approached her slowly, his hands up. "I want many things, cherie, but I'm afraid now's not the time." He turned his head to the battlegrounds. Rogue knew what was there, had seen Bobby getting double-teamed by 'Berto and Amara. "Icepup's really startin' to sweat out there," Gambit said.
"Don't strain yourself worrying," she said, looking at the trio. "He's getting help, right about—"
A blur of something through the grounds, and suddenly Pietro and Wanda were joining the fray.
"Now."
Gambit turned his eyes back to her, an eyebrow raised. The strange gaze that had seemed so fascinating the first time she saw it was now—in her tired, hurting, pissed-off, thoroughly fed-up state of mind—damn irritating. "Quit starin' and start talkin', Gambit," she growled. "What's your game here?"
"No game. I came to see Xavier. What for," he added, when she opened her mouth, "is between me and him, oui?"
"What for I don't really give a crap," she said. "And you probably figured out a while ago that he's not here, so why're you still spying on us?"
He shrugged, half-smirking. "I'm bored?"
The sound of yelling distracted her from a reply. She looked through the trees to see Lucas trying to get a hold of Pietro. Wanda's powers were keeping him at bay, but for how long?
Rogue launched dodderingly into the air, clenching her jaw against the resulting drum concert in her head. Flying would be a tricky thing now, but at least it was better than running.
"Sure you want to be doin' that?" Gambit said, stepping near. "Raw fighting's not gonna take that one down, cherie."
"You got any other ideas?"
"Without his TK shield, all I need is a clear shot and we can all call it a night."
The silver gun in his hand seemed to magically appear. Rogue blinked at it, fidgeting. "I don't—"
"It's a tranq gun, Rogue," he said, before the corners of his mouth lifted again. "I ain't such a bastard as that."
The smile on his face was confusing, so she only said, "Give us a few minutes. And don't miss," she added, biting her cheek at the offended look on he gave her.
"You trying to hurt me, river girl?"
"Only if you miss, swamp boy."
As she flew off, it struck her as odd how her body didn't feel so sore just then, or her head so pitiful. Even odder the rush of energy working back into her system. But the oddest thing of all was the hope that she was riding on, the maybe foolish but maybe also reasonable expectation of taking down Lucas.
It had looked pretty near impossible just minutes ago. But with the Brotherhood showing up, and now with Gambit hiding in the wings—and how the hell had Lucas missed him, anyhow?—but that was beside the point.
Right now, they not only had a plan B, but a plan C.
It was buoying, dammit. And flying past the sight of Pietro whipping a tornado around 'Berto was—in a twisted way—helping her optimism. As Pietro's wind tunnel died down, 'Berto dropped to the ground. He was still awake and powered up, but Wanda took care of that soon enough. The blue signature of her hex stream spread over 'Berto as his solar form winked in and out, then disappeared completely, replaced by his normal body.
Rogue landed beside Bobby, used her TK to help deflect Amara's lava blasts. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the hex stream move over the grass, making the green stretch longer and thicker than she'd ever seen. It quickly wrapped 'Berto in a sheath that covered his whole body, but for the nose.
Pietro dumped grass-mummy 'Berto next to Lance's ice casing, saying, "You can keep each other company," before making his way over to Rogue and giving her a smirk.
"What?" he said. "You gonna whine about unnecessary roughness?"
"You hear me complaining?" she said. Maybe 'Berto would later, but a resentful recruit was better than a mind-controlled or kidnapped recruit, so she turned her attention back to Amara, ready to try the psychic blast that Lucas was so fond of using. But Wanda was already aiming her hands at lava blasts that were about to crash right into them. Surrounded in blue hexes, the blasts paused in the air before they veered around, headed back to Amara.
It didn't hurt, but it looked like it stunned the girl, enough to give Pietro time to swoop up and punch her out. She dropped to the floor limply, Pietro standing over her without a trace of a burn on him. At his speed, the boy could probably withstand zipping through a burning building. Rogue could see on his face now an expression that was awful close to smug.
"Save your gloating for later," she said, "after—"
"You take me down?" said a voice behind them. "Never happen."
Abruptly she was knocked forward, bruising her face against the ground. Bobby fell the same way nearby, and she saw pieces of his ice form cracking. Could he revert to normal whole with all those chips in his body?—and got her answer an instant later, when he suddenly groaned, his eyes rolling into his sockets.
The ice melted away to reveal his regular uniform. It was free of the cracks and chips she'd been looking at seconds ago.
And it was a relief, but it would've been even better if he hadn't passed out.
"I'm getting tired of this," Lucas said, waving a hand to throw Pietro against Wanda as she raised blue-coated hands. In almost the same way Rogue and Bobby had done earlier, the two siblings fell to the grass in a sorry heap.
Rogue pulled herself up, scowling. "I'm getting pretty damn sick of you myself."
He sighed. "They said you'd be a problem child. And it looks like you're living up to expectations."
She tried to help Pietro and Wanda stand with the TK, but Lucas slapped them to the ground again, nullifying her efforts. "You want to know what I think, though?" he said. "I think you're a rather sad creature. Just pointless, really."
Her eyes narrowed into slits.
"Can't even blame your mum on this. Seems Mystique has an understanding of things that you just refuse to try to grasp, no matter what. It's precisely because you're so willfully daft that I wonder why they bother with you."
"You talk too much," Rogue said, fire forming around her clenched fists.
"And you don't think enough." Lucas scoffed at her. "I've half a mind to just leave you behind when I take the others. Icicle over there, Magma, that Sparky lad—I can see their potential. And you'd better believe I'll be back for your friends Kitty and Jean—and tell you right now, I'm rather looking forward to those particular encounters. But you—"
She launched herself at him. He sneered and froze her in place. "No control, no insight, no ambition."
Her TK was useless—she couldn't free herself. Couldn't help the others, when Lucas lifted one hand to throw an unconscious Pietro and Wanda into the hole Magma had made earlier for the Blob. As fallen trees moved to cover the hole, Lucas scoffed at Rogue. "See now? You're irrelevant, R—"
"NOOO!"
Something small, fast, and furious jumped onto Lucas and tackled him to the ground. His hold on Rogue broke, but shock kept her rooted to the spot in those first few seconds.
Lucas was getting the crap beaten outta him by Todd.
"Get her out of that hole, you jackass!" he shouted, pummeling Lucas with frenzied punches and kicks. "Get her out now!"
Another few seconds had Rogue running over to them. It was just in time to see close-up Todd's boot landing on Lucas's chin. That seemed to wake Lucas up, finally.
"Enough!" he roared, gripping Todd in place with his TK a moment before telepathy took him out for good.
It warmed her stomach to see the cuts and bruises and blood and dirt on Lucas's body. "Teach you not to lock the boy in the closet," she said, and launched herself at him as he stood shakily.
It was like a hug without any good intentions. She just needed to hang on as long as possible with her bare hands wrapped around his neck. He just needed to fall into a coma.
Didn't seem to be happening any time soon, though, as they suddenly shot into the air.
She mustered all the strength she had left to keep from being thrown off. Needles pricked her head—a million of them jamming every which way from temple to base—but she held off on passing out, too. Even when her body started to burn, and she saw her arms wrapped in flames—even then, she wasn't gonna give the bastard the satisfaction of screaming.
With the telepathy that was flowing into her, she projected, *Do your worst, dipshit.*
They were pretty far up at this point. His powers were going haywire, his telekinesis rocketing them higher and higher in the sky as the fire on her arms spread out even wider now, surrounding both their bodies. She couldn't feel its heat, though. The pyrokinetic layer was probably covering a telekinetic shield.
He was waiting for her to say uncle. But all her energy was bent on keeping hold. She'd be damned if she'd waste any of it by talking. And the pinpricks were fading away and she could feel his breathing getting more ragged by the second.
Any moment now, he would pass out.
Any moment…and she stared with wide eyes at the full moon facing her between the sparking flames. Huge, pale, lovely—even in the battle that was preoccupying her at the moment, she'd be damned if she couldn't take a little time to appreciate the awesome nearness of the thing.
Lucas was a jackass. Such a pretty night, and with his powers he could've really enjoyed it. But what did the fool do except waste everyone's time by attacking a buncha kids?
*His bunch of kids,* came the voice. *His bunch of pseudo-kids that—*
*He picked over his real one, and why does my life suck because I can't get over myself and everyone hates me? Sing me a new one, will ya?*
*You mock me, you ignorant—*
*Little fool. Spineless twit. Stupid bitch. Go on.* She dug her nails into his skin. *Y'know, maybe you were right. Maybe I am irrelevant—not enough control, not enough of the right sorta insight, and gotta agree that I sure as hell don't give enough of a shit sometimes. But you wanna know what I think?*
He strained away from her fingers, punching and kicking uselessly as the fire shield around them flared brightly for one short instant.
*I remind you of David, but you're wrong there. I think it's you an' me, Lucas—you an' me with a longer list of things in common.* And with that, they veered suddenly through the sky, in a n-shaped arc that sent them spiraling rapidly back to earth.
*What the bloody hell are you doing?*
*Adding one more thing to that list.*
She and Lucas were going to crash into the lake and hopefully pass out together. If not, they'd at least be too weak to fight Gambit when he fished them out, too weak to do much of anything but drip water when he shot them with the tranq gun.
She willed the flames to die down, the telekinetic coating to thin to a bare layer. His counter efforts lacked any kind of verve, and as they careened through the air in those last seconds before hitting the lake—her grip still viselike despite Lucas flailing about—Rogue thought idly about Kurt, and how he'd have another reason to be heated at her if this gamble didn't pay off.
Then they landed. Her body exploded from the pressure of—God, it felt like knives. The TK layer dissipated.
Water filled her lungs as her hold on Lucas eased, and the darkness of the lake flowed into the black in her mind.
He started running to join the fray when Lucas threw Magneto's pups into the ditch. Toad's appearance slowed him down in the short time the boy took his turn in the beat-the-bastard spotlight, but when he passed out and Rogue jumped on Lucas, Remy resumed his run.
No use, though. By the time he reached the lump of Toad on the ground, Rogue and Lucas were already a couple of thousand feet in the air. As Remy watched the pair shoot straight up higher and higher, saw the fire blaze up suddenly around them, his stomach spasmed.
Hadn't done that in a while. And it only did that when he was worried.
He'd heard Lucas's speech, had noticed how it seemed to strike a chord in the girl. It might've pissed her off enough to strike back in a way that could also get her hurt. On one hand, a girl who called herself 'the Rogue' couldn't be anything but the risky type, and while Remy appreciated that kind of nerve, on the other hand was the fact was that she was training under Xavier—the epitome of caution himself—so anything too far beyond the line was off limits, oui?
'Course, she was also training under the Wolverine.
"Merde," Remy said, watching the spark in the sky that was Rogue and Lucas suddenly curve back towards the ground, their velocity unchanged.
Dieu, but he hoped she'd found a way to handle this. They were heading straight back down—right into the lake, if she couldn't stop them. That'd be one hell of an impact, one Remy wasn't sure even their fancy fire shield would protect them from.
Then he saw the flames disappear, and the bodies in the sky got a whole lot tinier as they went into freefall.
Remy's stomach dropped to his feet.
Rogue—
They crashed, the impact reverberating through the ground, drowning out any other sound in his ears. Water was everywhere—vast amounts of it, reaching high enough to wet the tops of trees, far enough to drench Remy by the time he got to the edge of the lake.
He dove.
When he was younger, swimming with Henri and his cousins had led to all kinds of competition, and Remy had pushed himself to be the fastest, fanciest, the most resistant. He'd pushed himself to learn how to hold his breath under water for a good spell—even set a record for the family.
Looking for Rogue now, he broke that record.
But still he couldn't find her. Lucas, neither. His lungs about to burst, he rushed back up to break the surface, took in great heapings of air. He was about to dive back down again when he saw a glow in the water not too far from him—a golden hue in the lake that got brighter—
Just before Rogue shot up from the lake, wrapped in flames again. Lucas was hanging limply from her arms.
Remy swam to the banks as she touched down on the grounds and dropped Lucas. Then she closed her eyes and stood still for a few seconds. The fire died down again.
Dripping water behind him, Remy approached them quickly, quelling the urge to check Rogue over for injuries. That long drop, the extreme landing—and all she seemed to have were the same cuts and bruises he'd seen earlier. "You in one piece, cherie?" he couldn't help asking anyway.
"Ja. Except I'm not a cherry."
Remy blinked. An anxious male and German-accented voice, in place of a girl's low and lazy Southern drawl. "What the hell?" he said. "Nightcrawler?"
"Ja." Rogue—Nightcrawler—no, Rogue, this was Rogue's body, dammit—frowned. "Except I might not be here for long."
"What's goin' on? Where's Rogue?"
"Rogue is busy right now keeping a leash on mental-Lucas. She—" Her eyes spaced out a little. "She says—and I'm quoting, okay, so don't shoot the messenger—but she says, 'You got your clear shot, dammit, so take it already.'"
Remy raised a brow, then pulled out his tranq gun. Raising it to Lucas, he squeezed the trigger. A dart shot out and imbedded itself in Lucas's arm.
"Gut," said Rogue. "Now me."
"What?" Remy said, shocked.
Rogue sighed. "If you don't, there's a chance he could take over. She wants you to end it now before—and I'm quoting again—'the Lucas inside my head decides to break your face.'"
"Well, I ain't doing it."
Rogue's body convulsed. "Meiner meinung nach—" She shook again. "You should listen to—" Shook even more. "Mein schwester." One last shudder, and then she crumpled to the grass.
Before Remy could take a step, her hand raised to freeze him in place. "Rogue—"
"Not the time for a debate, Gambit," and this sounded exhausted and determined and pissed and entirely her.
"You know what this is packing, cherie? It's enough to put a horse to sleep for two days."
"Do I look like Mr. Ed to you?"
Fire started sparking around her hand, at the same time Remy felt his head start to tingle. "What're you doing to me?" he said.
"Not me. Lucas. I don't have Kurt or any of the others anymore, and arguin' with you's just wasting my focus and energy." She put her hands to her head, clenching her eyes shut as Remy found himself able to move again. "Lucas, try that again and I'll ram myself into the nearest building at high-speed."
In a second, Remy had the gun trained on her. "Rogue," he said gently.
She opened her eyes, and the gaze they shared was long enough for him to wish for a moment that the world they knew wasn't such a damn hassle, because he'd have liked to take her out just then for a cup of coffee.
He shot her instead.