If he weren't my friend, Rogue thinks, I'd say he was absolutely nuts. She pushes away the threatening and persistent concept that, in fact, he may no longer BE her friend.
Pietro squints up at the window and, apparently spotting her looking down on him, his face brightens. He beckons her to quickly go downstairs to him, mouthing come here, come here. She shakes her head stubbornly, unwilling to brave the outside in place that she's still a stranger to. He sighs heavily and is suddenly gone. Seconds later, there's a soft knock at the door.
She stares at the door, blinking, before she says quietly, "Come in."
And he does so, first peeking in the top of his head and the his face, then his neck and shoulders and the rest of him in a slinky movement that reminds her of a snake. Trying to avoid making any noise, he shuffles over to her bed and stands by it awkwardly, hands on his hips. Rogue sits up all the way and pulls her blanket closer, attempting to make the act look casual and lack motive. But Pietro notices, and winces.
"Rogue," he says. "You don't...you don't have to worry about me, okay?" His eyes loom large in his thin face, hurt. "I wouldn't..."
"Ah know," Rogue breaks in. "Ah...it's an instinct thing."
He nods. "I guess that makes sense. In this context, anyway." He stares at her for a moment before going on, "Your hair looks longer."
She reaches up and pulls it a little, trying to measure its length by touch. "Really?"
"Yeah." Pietro smiles weakly. "Maybe we should call you Rapunzel." He crosses his arms in front of him and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't really been around. I've been helping, uh, my father..."
"With what?"
He sighs again. "You KNOW I can't tell you that..."
"Hmmm." She looks away.
"Don't do that to me, Rogue!" He sounds like he's pleading. "Please."
"Do what?" She knows she's being difficult and cold, but she doesn't really know what else to do. Assure him that's it's okay with her that they're being held captive in this house? Jump up and give him a big hug? Talk about the good old days in the Brotherhood? Besides, she FEELS cold and difficult, just thinking about his role in her situation.
"Dammit!" His voice is as loud as possible without threatening to disturb anyone else. "Sometimes you act just like Jean and Kitty and Tabitha, just like all the other girls! But you're NOT! You're different from them, you're better, so ACT like it. Talk to me and let me talk to you."
"Ah'm sorry," she says.
"Don't be. Don't be sorry."
"Are YOU sorry?"
Pietro hesitates, then answers simply, "He's my father."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have." He shrugs. "This isn't going like I wanted. I need to get some sleep anyway..."
Pietro's not standing there anymore.
So much for us being able to talk to each other, she thinks.
***
In the morning, Rogue catches the Russian sneaking looks at her as they eat. It's not the first time, either. Every once in a while, from the corner of her eye, she'll find him stealing quick glances at her from over his cereal bowl. Then when she lifts her head, his face turns red and he ducks, shoving another mouthful of food into his mouth.
At first, it bothered her. It bothered her very, very much. She thought briefly of telling St. John about it, but immediately vetoed that idea; he freaks out enough just dealing with Gambit. He doesn't need to feel like he should protect her from another guy, this one a couple times bigger than he is. So she's kept it to herself.
Rogue's still a bit worried by his benign attention, though he hasn't tried to do anything past looking. The Russian, for the most part, ignores everyone, including her. She knows that his room is downstairs, like those of all the boys other than St. John, across from where Fred and Evan sleep, and stays there for most of every day. She wonders sometimes what he does there, if he misses talking to people whenever he wants, and smiling. He hardly ever smiles.
But of course, neither does she.
***
That afternoon, around lunch time, when she walks into the kitchen, she's surprised to find Remy there. Luckily for St. John, his nose hadn't been broken, but is still slightly swollen. He runs his fingers across it gently, wincing at the tenderness, but when he sees her enter he drops his hand and grins.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey." Rogue walks past him without a second look and opens the refrigerator, considering her meal options.
"Ya tell ya frien' he better stay 'way," he tells her, voice a little more hardened than she's heard before.
She doesn't look at him when she answers, "Ah can't tell him what ta do." She pulls her choice out of the fridge and walks over to the microwave.
"Den he jus' better KNOW." Remy walks over and stands next to her. "Ah think he jealous."
She snorts. "Jealous? Of what?"
"Me." He leans forward, closer to her, and winks. "'Cause he never gon' win ya. Don' have the looks."
Rogue would very much like to tell him how right he is and yet how completely wrong at the same time. She can picture his wide-eyed surprise, mouth slack. Maybe then he'd leave and just let her make lunch. But of course not; she could never do that to St. John.
"Ah think he's nice-lookin'," she answers innocently. "He's tall."
Remy rolls his eyes and crosses his arms across his chest. "Dat all he got. Not like Remy." He grins again.
"Huh," she answers, trying to passively end the conversation.
"Ah think we'd make a good team."
"Hmmm."
"C'mon," he says, voice irritated and louder. "Talk ta me!" He sounds like Pietro earlier, only she KNOWS Pietro, knows he means no harm. Remy grabs her by the wrist and pulls her to him, eyes narrowed.
"Don't touch me!" she cries, like so many times before, but now it has nothing to with her powers absorbing his.
He doesn't let go, and he's stronger than her. "Then talk ta me!" he hisses.
"Izvinite," a voice says from the kitchen door.
They both turn quickly and find the Russian there, standing so tall and disapproving. He stares at Remy menacingly. Gambit drops her wrist and simply stomps out the door, brushing past the other boy.
"Styervo," the Russian mutters as he watches him go.
Rogue takes her wrist in her other hand and rubs it, tears threatening. Since the moment she manifested them, she'd resented her powers; they kept her so distant from the rest of the world. But now she yearns for them, for whatever protection she can have from whatever dangers that present themselves.
Still shaken, she looks up at the Russian and murmurs, "Thanks."
He nods slowly, as if he understands (and he might), and heads to the cereal cabinet.
Finding herself no longer hungry, Rogue hurriedly leaves the room and goes up the stairs.
She realizes that she had never heard the Russian speak before.
To be continued...
**Author's Note:
Randi - Yeah, I really doubt that Gambit would be a homophobe in any way; St. John was probably just being touchy about that bit. I mean, Gambit IS from New Orleans, after all. (Wait...so is my Grandpa. Uh, forget that last statement.) In the last chapter, Remy especially didn't mean any harm by his attentions; St. John was the one actually being a jerk. I think he takes his self-appointed role as Rogue's Protector very seriously. In fact, even in this chapter, while definitely not acting like a harmless flirt, I'd say Remy only freaked out when she wouldn't communicate. It's no excuse, of course, but he's not a total bad guy.
DarkFire/kitana - Well, here's Piotr as a knight in shining armour! You like?
Phoenix - Why thank you! Hahahaha...shmeal. What a great word.
LotusPen - Like Randi suggested for the last chapter, if St. John is jealous of ANYONE, it's Rogue!
evolutionary spider - Hey, real questions...1) It'll be something all right. But if I tell you, it wouldn't be a surprise. 2) That's a good idea, but Rogue has that collar on, inhibiting her powers. I never really thought she liked the idea of absorbing Kitty anyway. 3) I know, and it's bothering me, too. I'm trying to figure out how to bring them into the fic more, but it's hard. I'm not really a Fred or Evan fan, so it's hard to write for them. 4) Thank you. 5) Part A, Shhhhh! Part B, If Beast was going to go insane, I think he would've done it by now.
NiteQueen - I thought I was the only one who said okie dokie artichokie!! Oh wait...you weren't being serious, were you? Everyone forget I ever said that...
The next chapter will be up soon, once I figure out what'll happen in it. Jeez, this is getting harder...Oh, by the way, the Russian Piotr said translates as: "Excuse me" and "Bastard." A million thanks go out to Krystal, who sent me a few links dealing with Russian.**
Pietro squints up at the window and, apparently spotting her looking down on him, his face brightens. He beckons her to quickly go downstairs to him, mouthing come here, come here. She shakes her head stubbornly, unwilling to brave the outside in place that she's still a stranger to. He sighs heavily and is suddenly gone. Seconds later, there's a soft knock at the door.
She stares at the door, blinking, before she says quietly, "Come in."
And he does so, first peeking in the top of his head and the his face, then his neck and shoulders and the rest of him in a slinky movement that reminds her of a snake. Trying to avoid making any noise, he shuffles over to her bed and stands by it awkwardly, hands on his hips. Rogue sits up all the way and pulls her blanket closer, attempting to make the act look casual and lack motive. But Pietro notices, and winces.
"Rogue," he says. "You don't...you don't have to worry about me, okay?" His eyes loom large in his thin face, hurt. "I wouldn't..."
"Ah know," Rogue breaks in. "Ah...it's an instinct thing."
He nods. "I guess that makes sense. In this context, anyway." He stares at her for a moment before going on, "Your hair looks longer."
She reaches up and pulls it a little, trying to measure its length by touch. "Really?"
"Yeah." Pietro smiles weakly. "Maybe we should call you Rapunzel." He crosses his arms in front of him and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't really been around. I've been helping, uh, my father..."
"With what?"
He sighs again. "You KNOW I can't tell you that..."
"Hmmm." She looks away.
"Don't do that to me, Rogue!" He sounds like he's pleading. "Please."
"Do what?" She knows she's being difficult and cold, but she doesn't really know what else to do. Assure him that's it's okay with her that they're being held captive in this house? Jump up and give him a big hug? Talk about the good old days in the Brotherhood? Besides, she FEELS cold and difficult, just thinking about his role in her situation.
"Dammit!" His voice is as loud as possible without threatening to disturb anyone else. "Sometimes you act just like Jean and Kitty and Tabitha, just like all the other girls! But you're NOT! You're different from them, you're better, so ACT like it. Talk to me and let me talk to you."
"Ah'm sorry," she says.
"Don't be. Don't be sorry."
"Are YOU sorry?"
Pietro hesitates, then answers simply, "He's my father."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have." He shrugs. "This isn't going like I wanted. I need to get some sleep anyway..."
Pietro's not standing there anymore.
So much for us being able to talk to each other, she thinks.
***
In the morning, Rogue catches the Russian sneaking looks at her as they eat. It's not the first time, either. Every once in a while, from the corner of her eye, she'll find him stealing quick glances at her from over his cereal bowl. Then when she lifts her head, his face turns red and he ducks, shoving another mouthful of food into his mouth.
At first, it bothered her. It bothered her very, very much. She thought briefly of telling St. John about it, but immediately vetoed that idea; he freaks out enough just dealing with Gambit. He doesn't need to feel like he should protect her from another guy, this one a couple times bigger than he is. So she's kept it to herself.
Rogue's still a bit worried by his benign attention, though he hasn't tried to do anything past looking. The Russian, for the most part, ignores everyone, including her. She knows that his room is downstairs, like those of all the boys other than St. John, across from where Fred and Evan sleep, and stays there for most of every day. She wonders sometimes what he does there, if he misses talking to people whenever he wants, and smiling. He hardly ever smiles.
But of course, neither does she.
***
That afternoon, around lunch time, when she walks into the kitchen, she's surprised to find Remy there. Luckily for St. John, his nose hadn't been broken, but is still slightly swollen. He runs his fingers across it gently, wincing at the tenderness, but when he sees her enter he drops his hand and grins.
"Hey," he says.
"Hey." Rogue walks past him without a second look and opens the refrigerator, considering her meal options.
"Ya tell ya frien' he better stay 'way," he tells her, voice a little more hardened than she's heard before.
She doesn't look at him when she answers, "Ah can't tell him what ta do." She pulls her choice out of the fridge and walks over to the microwave.
"Den he jus' better KNOW." Remy walks over and stands next to her. "Ah think he jealous."
She snorts. "Jealous? Of what?"
"Me." He leans forward, closer to her, and winks. "'Cause he never gon' win ya. Don' have the looks."
Rogue would very much like to tell him how right he is and yet how completely wrong at the same time. She can picture his wide-eyed surprise, mouth slack. Maybe then he'd leave and just let her make lunch. But of course not; she could never do that to St. John.
"Ah think he's nice-lookin'," she answers innocently. "He's tall."
Remy rolls his eyes and crosses his arms across his chest. "Dat all he got. Not like Remy." He grins again.
"Huh," she answers, trying to passively end the conversation.
"Ah think we'd make a good team."
"Hmmm."
"C'mon," he says, voice irritated and louder. "Talk ta me!" He sounds like Pietro earlier, only she KNOWS Pietro, knows he means no harm. Remy grabs her by the wrist and pulls her to him, eyes narrowed.
"Don't touch me!" she cries, like so many times before, but now it has nothing to with her powers absorbing his.
He doesn't let go, and he's stronger than her. "Then talk ta me!" he hisses.
"Izvinite," a voice says from the kitchen door.
They both turn quickly and find the Russian there, standing so tall and disapproving. He stares at Remy menacingly. Gambit drops her wrist and simply stomps out the door, brushing past the other boy.
"Styervo," the Russian mutters as he watches him go.
Rogue takes her wrist in her other hand and rubs it, tears threatening. Since the moment she manifested them, she'd resented her powers; they kept her so distant from the rest of the world. But now she yearns for them, for whatever protection she can have from whatever dangers that present themselves.
Still shaken, she looks up at the Russian and murmurs, "Thanks."
He nods slowly, as if he understands (and he might), and heads to the cereal cabinet.
Finding herself no longer hungry, Rogue hurriedly leaves the room and goes up the stairs.
She realizes that she had never heard the Russian speak before.
To be continued...
**Author's Note:
Randi - Yeah, I really doubt that Gambit would be a homophobe in any way; St. John was probably just being touchy about that bit. I mean, Gambit IS from New Orleans, after all. (Wait...so is my Grandpa. Uh, forget that last statement.) In the last chapter, Remy especially didn't mean any harm by his attentions; St. John was the one actually being a jerk. I think he takes his self-appointed role as Rogue's Protector very seriously. In fact, even in this chapter, while definitely not acting like a harmless flirt, I'd say Remy only freaked out when she wouldn't communicate. It's no excuse, of course, but he's not a total bad guy.
DarkFire/kitana - Well, here's Piotr as a knight in shining armour! You like?
Phoenix - Why thank you! Hahahaha...shmeal. What a great word.
LotusPen - Like Randi suggested for the last chapter, if St. John is jealous of ANYONE, it's Rogue!
evolutionary spider - Hey, real questions...1) It'll be something all right. But if I tell you, it wouldn't be a surprise. 2) That's a good idea, but Rogue has that collar on, inhibiting her powers. I never really thought she liked the idea of absorbing Kitty anyway. 3) I know, and it's bothering me, too. I'm trying to figure out how to bring them into the fic more, but it's hard. I'm not really a Fred or Evan fan, so it's hard to write for them. 4) Thank you. 5) Part A, Shhhhh! Part B, If Beast was going to go insane, I think he would've done it by now.
NiteQueen - I thought I was the only one who said okie dokie artichokie!! Oh wait...you weren't being serious, were you? Everyone forget I ever said that...
The next chapter will be up soon, once I figure out what'll happen in it. Jeez, this is getting harder...Oh, by the way, the Russian Piotr said translates as: "Excuse me" and "Bastard." A million thanks go out to Krystal, who sent me a few links dealing with Russian.**