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Seether

Chapter Three -- Crazy

By Randirogue

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"And your hands are really shaking something awful as you light your twenty-seventh cigarette. Oh, how long have you been sitting in the darkness, you forget…" (Crazy Baby –by Joan Osborne)

Gambit was sitting in his usual brooding spot on the roof when he got the summons from Xavier to meet in the war room. He was going to go, just not yet.

He'd been there, in his brooding spot, all night. He couldn't sleep. How could he with what was going on with Rogue?

And she won't even talk to me. Won't let me touch her. Well, dat's not new, but she won't let me near her now. And I just got her to be comfortable wit' being held wit'out flinching.

Gambit came out to the roof after being turned away for the twelfth time since they both had been released from the medlab. Nobody was able to determine what exactly had caused Rogue's situation. She hadn't been breathing, her heart had stopped, and she had been bleeding. When she was revived she'd refused to let Hank examine her. The incident had also gained her another power to add to her ever growing list of powers and a clutter of thoughts to accompany them. Bobby's powers. Bobby's thoughts. And they didn't terrorize her like Gambit's had. That thought made Gambit cringe. Despite the horrible image of Rogue near bleeding to death in the medlab, Gambit couldn't get the image of Bobby's lips on Rogue's out of his mind. It was just CPR. Why was he feeling so jealous? Over Bobby? They were just good friends.

'Cause she let him hold her and didn't flinch. Correction. She held him. She reached out her arms to him. She wrapped her arms 'round him. She held him close. And her doing so didn't surprise Bobby one bit. He acted like she did it all the time.

That was what Gambit witnessed the last time he went to check on Rogue. It had been late. It was after dinner. He'd followed Bobby when he saw him carrying the tray of food to the girls' dormitory. He'd intended on talking to Rogue if Bobby had any luck getting her to open the door. Gambit had been surprised when Bobby just opened the door and entered. Gambit didn't approve of that, and he knew Rogue wouldn't be happy about it either. He was about to storm in and say so when his empathy picked up the roil of emotion coming from both Bobby and Rogue. He felt it just before he peeked inside the opened door.

It was a double stab to his chest.

Rogue released her sadness and her fear onto Bobby, who accepted it with welcome. Gambit couldn't hear them from where he concealed himself just outside the door. But he watched. He watched her cry herself into exhaustion, nearly into sleep. He watched Bobby coax her back against her pillows and under her blankets. And then Gambit had left.

She was wearing de collar still. She hated de collars. Dey remind her of somet'ing she doesn't want to t'ink about.

Gambit had asked the others about that. They didn't seem to mind talking about it. It had pretty much been common knowledge to everyone, the little they knew about it at least. Storm told him it was because of her being captured by the Genoshan Magistrates way back before Magneto had taken over the country, way back before Gambit joined the X-Men. Storm explained the whole thing to him. She told him that Wolverine and Rogue were imprisoned and stripped of their powers by Wipeout. The guards used the collars once they had them in the cells. Storm told Gambit that it had been Carol, in control of Rogue at the time, who had relayed the story to her. Carol had told Storm that Rogue let her take control of Rogue's body after some of the guards had gotten a little fresh with her. Gambit raised his brows to that.

"Li'l fresh?" He asked Storm with a mocking lilt to his voice. "Rogue be a stubborn girl. It take more'n dat to get Rogue to give Danvers control, non?"

Storm nodded in understanding and reassurance. "I assure you Carol was adamant about that, Remy."

Storm had said it with such confidence, but still Gambit was not convinced. He spoke to Wolverine next.

Logan snorted angrily before responding to Gambit's questions. "Yeah," he'd admitted gruffly, "She had a few of their scents on her."

Gambit couldn't look Logan in the face when he asked the next question, "How far y' t'ink dey go?"

"Couldn't say for sure." Wolverine had replied resolutely. "Close quarters, the fighting and all. She had scents of other prisoners on her too by the time she got to me. Sex was there, but couldn't say if it was hers…" Wolverine snorted irritably at the memory, then straightened. "She seemed okay, though."

"Carol or Rogue?"

Logan was surprised then. Whether from the question or his answer, Gambit never knew. Logan took a moment before answering.

"Both, I guess." He'd simply said.

Gambit thought it was weird that nobody knew the details… that nobody had ever asked. But, even Rogue had said that nothing serious had happened, so Gambit let it drop. Still, Rogue was terrified of the collars, though not as bad as Storm was of confined spaces. Her fear of the collars was enough to have disturbed Gambit when he saw that Rogue was still wearing it more than twenty-four hours after leaving the medlab and that she didn't seemed bothered by it in the least. He didn't believe she'd just forgotten she had it on.

Gambit put out the cigarette and headed for the war room. He wondered if Rogue would be there.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"…Oh you know you're getting really hard to be with. And you're crying every time you turn around. And you wonder why you cannot pick your head up off the ground…" (Crazy Baby –by Joan Osborne)

Rogue was woken by Xavier's voice over the comm badge. She checked the clock and groaned. It was ten in the morning, but she felt like she'd slept only an hour or two. Her body ached and she told herself it was from the ordeal that landed her in the medlab. Didn't matter that Logan's healing factor had taken care of her injuries from her episode. Didn't matter she was physically invulnerable. Although, she had the excuse of her powers being dampened to console that part. She just wouldn't let herself succumb to her emotional turmoil. So, she did not ache from crying herself to sleep. She convinced herself of that.

She sat up and felt the heavy weight of the collar around her neck and panicked. She scrambled to rip it off, but her super strength failed her. The collar was on and she didn't have her powers.

Someone could touch me, touch me, touch me!

Tears dampened her cheeks. She collapsed her head into her hands. She hated herself for crying. She was stronger than that. And it was stupid, anyway. She was alone in her room. She was at home with the X-Men. Nobody here wanted to hurt her. Nobody here wanted to touch her. Well, maybe Gambit, but she'd had practice avoiding him.

She forced herself to regain control of herself. She took deep breaths until the panic eased to a dull buzz. She just had to take it off. Bobby had shown her how to do it before she fell asleep. She remembered it vaguely. She remembered him suggesting to take it off for her and that she had shrugged him off, murmuring something about wanting to feel normal for a little while.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered why she hadn't taken it off before this.

She took her time in the shower. She'd removed the collar first. She let her invulnerability deaden the sensation of the water running over her body to the point that she found it soothing enough to rinse away some of her tension. Enough, so that she could focus on preparing to face the others. That took a whole other type of tension. She couldn't let them see her like this. They never reacted well to it. No matter how much they cared about her as family or how much they wanted to help her or how much they trusted her to back them up in a fight, she couldn't let them see a chink in her mental fortitude. She never again wanted to deal with how they had treated her when Carol was in the habit of running things. She never again wanted them to doubt her. So, she took her time getting ready. She used that time to strengthen her armor. She had to make sure they saw their Mississippi Marauder/Southern Belle. She couldn't let them see all of her.

On her way to the War Room, she realized that she was missing her appointment to see Hank for further tests. Or at least she was postponing them. That was fine by her.

She entered the War Room with a bounce to her step and a smile on her face. They were both genuine.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"…And they look at you like they don't speak your language. And you're living at the bottom of a well. And you swallow all the awful bloody secrets that you can't tell…" (Crazy Baby –by Joan Osborne)

The war room was filled with almost all the X-Men currently residing at the mansion. Extra chairs had been brought in to accommodate everyone. Gambit entered and quickly surveyed the room. Xavier was in his hoverchair at the head of the large conference table. On his right was Scott, then Jean, then Neal, Emma, Hank, Kurt, Warren, and Stacy X. On his left was Storm, then Bishop, then Wolverine. Farther down that side was Bobby, then Jono, then Sage. Gambit saw that there were two seats open between Bobby and Wolverine. He didn't want to sit by Bobby right then, but he really didn't want Rogue sitting next to Bobby either. He knew it was petty, but at the moment he didn't care.

Scott scowled at Gambit and said, "Glad you decided to join us."

"Wasn't doing much else," Gambit said. "So what's dis about? Magneto raise himself from de grave and t'reatening us… or dis about Rogue." Gambit glanced around the room, but nobody offered anything but sympathetic and concerned looks over Rogue. "She invited to dis li'l party or what?"

Xavier pursed his eyes closed in concentration. He opened them a moment longer and sighed heavily.

"I cannot locate her in the mansion," Xavier said. He saw Gambit start to stand, his eyes flashing red with concern, and cut off Gambit's rash reaction, by continuing. "She is here, but she is not responding telepathically. I'm afraid she has become even more difficult to read since the additional control of her other powers, especially telepathy."

"She has eluded me as well," Emma stated with annoyance.

"I know what you mean," Jean said after failing to contact Rogue as well. "The only indication of her I can get is an empty space… a sort of void on the astral plane." She shook her head, both to dismiss her loss of an accurate description and the unsettling sensation she received from trying to scan for Rogue. She felt drained by the effort, but passed it off as emotional strain from the last few days, and continued, "Rogue is—"

"Here, so y'all can stop pestering me," Rogue said with cheerful mirth as she entered the room.

All eyes snapped to her. Gambit felt their pity and concern for Rogue swell the room. His empathy also picked up her distaste for it. She looked at him, grinned mischievously, then clamped down on her personal shields, shutting him out. He not only stopped sensing her strong emotions with his empathy, but he didn't sense her with his spatial sense. It was like there was a hole where she had been. A void, like Jean had said. Though that wasn't right either.

Rogue ignored the pitying glances and blocked out their accompanying thoughts. Only Wolverine and Bobby's thoughts were bearable. She didn't feel as condemned or dejected by them. And Gambit, well, Gambit made her skin crawl and her heart race. He was worried about her. He felt helpless and rejected by her refusal of his comfort. He was also jealous.

Silly boy, she thought.

Worst of all, he was aroused by the mere sight of her. He couldn't help it. It was his strongest feeling toward her. She felt it in the empathy she'd gotten from him, so she turned it off, and she heard it echoed in his thoughts, so she turned off the telepathy. But, she also had a similar reaction to him and she couldn't stop that. And she was so torn on the subject. She feared it would distract her enough to reveal the chink in her façade. She did the only thing she could do at the moment. She shoved it as deep inside her as she could, shoved it into a hard little marble to be looked at later.

Funny thing is... she never remembered ever looking at those marbles after they were marbles.

Rogue looked pointedly at Xavier and said, "Ah'm in the mood for a good, scrape." She smiled wryly and added, "Don't disappoint me."

Several X-Men gaped. Was she not technically dead a little more than twenty-four hours before?

Wolverine chuckled. He didn't even bother to hide it. "I'm with you, darlin'," he said.

Storm nodded once. She'd expected no less from Rogue. She was a determined young woman, Storm admitted to herself proudly, and she wouldn't let the disturbing incident overwhelm her.

Sage cocked her head to one side in consideration. It was obvious she was doing her thing as the living computer. She was recording and analyzing. Her face remained blank. But she was forming theories of her own.

Jean frowned, confused. She didn't like that she couldn't read Rogue at all. But more than that, she didn't like how Rogue bounced back. It wasn't healthy. She wasn't dealing with her problems. She was ignoring them. Jean shook her head. She couldn't even determine if that was true. Jean decided not to press the issue now, though. She would have time enough to figure Rogue out when she aided Hank with his tests on Rogue. It would just have to wait.

Scott spoke, though his reaction was evident by his expression. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, now, Rogue."

Bishop spoke next, "I agree with Rogue. I am eager to find out what the professor has called this meeting for."

"Not me. I was enjoying the break," Neal said.

"Tell me about it," Warren piped in.

"I don't think it would be wise for you to resume active duty right away, Rogue." That was Hank, of course.

"Ah"m fine," Rogue said as she crossed her arms.

Gambit saw that she had something in her hand, but decided to hold his comments for the moment. Besides, if she felt up for missions, she had to be fine, and that pleased him. He didn't want to ruin that.

"I'm feeling restless myself," Stacy X said eagerly.

"Everyone just settle down," Scott said. "We don't even know what this is about, yet."

Rogue stepped forward, away from the door, for the first time since she entered. The doors closed automatically behind her.

"Oh, Ah got an idea, Cyke," she said as she approached the table.

She avoided Gambit and the empty chair. She went between Wolverine and Bishop, feeling more inclined to them at the moment, and tossed the object she'd been holding onto the table in front of Kurt. The metal on metal clang reverberated throughout the suddenly quiet and confused room. It sounded like a quarter spinning to a stop. Everyone looked at the suppression collar that came to a stop then to Rogue.

Kurt lowered his head.

Rogue stepped back and crossed her arms again. "Spit it out, Kurt. Where'd ya get it?"

"Muir Island was cleaned out," Kurt said with his still bowed. "There was nothing… I tried to tell you."

"It is all right, Kurt," Xavier said, bringing the attention to him.

Gambit tapped a playing card on the table. No one saw him draw it, but they all heard the quickening tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap. Wolverine noticed that it matched Gambit's increased heart rate. He also noticed that Gambit was repeating something under his breath. It was so quiet, even Wolverine couldn't make out exactly what it was. The Cajun suspected something, and Wolverine knew that wasn't good news.

"Who gave it to ya?" Rogue pressed.

Kurt looked up at Rogue then. His face was filled with shame and worry. "You will not like it, schweister."

The tap-tap sped up.

"Where, then?" Rogue asked. She was getting tired of the twenty questions. She wanted to pound some heads and the longer they beat around the bush, the longer she'd have to wait.

Kurt looked down again. "Genosha," he said quietly, but everyone had heard.

The room erupted in conversation. SNIKT! The signal of Logan releasing his claws was loud, but was lost in the other clamor that had suddenly arose. Only three people remained quiet. One was Xavier, who was allowing everyone his or her immediate reaction and was waiting it out before getting to his point. The second was Gambit, whose heart had skipped a beat and was returning to normal. He'd stopped tapping the card. An expression of relief settled into his face. He wasn't happy with Kurt's answer, but it was better than what he'd thought. The third was Kurt. He was practically cringing.

After a few minutes, Xavier spoke up. "That is not all," he said and the room quieted down quickly. He turned to Kurt. "Would you like me to finish?"

"Nien. I will tell it."

Kurt stole a glance at Rogue, then addressed the assembled team. The memory of the carnage still present in Genosha after what Cassandra Nova had done rose unbidden. He tried to blink it away.

"I did not find one right away, mien gotts. I was about to leave…"

The memory of just two days before washed over him as he retold his tale. He'd arrived in Hammer Bay and had gone directly to Magneto's Citadel. The death and destruction was overwhelming. But worse was the lack of bodies. The UN had quarantined the island, declared it too expensive to clean up. They wouldn't assign it another leader, another government, and no one volunteered to take the responsibility of it. Always, under all the talks about the island were the whispers of what if "HE" came back. And so, the nation was simply written off. Besides, there were no inhabitants, other than the decaying bodies of its former citizens. Only, they're weren't that many bodies, Kurt had realized. He'd pushed it out of his mind as he ported inside the citadel. He had to get a collar for Rogue; Rogue was dying.

Inside the citadel it was quiet. He felt an itch between his shoulder blades, the anticipatory knife in the back. He ignored it as best as he could and concentrated on finding a collar. All around him he heard concrete and metal shifting. He surmised that the ruined citadel was ready to come down on him. Then he heard voices.

"Shit! He's breathing!" said a male voice. It sounded familiar, but Kurt couldn't place it. It must've been a very long time since he'd heard it.

"You're seeing things," said another male voice, "Ain't no way anyone lived through that."

Kurt found the room the voices were coming from. He peaked around the corner, but couldn't see who was speaking. He scanned the room and sure enough, spilling from a decimated cabinet on the near wall, were dozens of collars. Most were scorched or shattered, but some looked in tact. He had to get to them. He was about to port in, when he heard the men shifting something large just on the other side of the opened door. Kurt reeled back out of sight. They weren't more than ten feet away from him. They had just been blocked from his sight by the door that was half hanging on its hinges, partially being held up by a fallen column.

"He moved. I saw it. He just moved. Look," one of the men had said.

"Dammit, Riptide," the other one said.

In the War Room, listening to Nightcrawler's story, Gambit's heart sunk. He knew it. He KNEW it.

The room erupted with conversation again. "Sinister," was hissed by more than one person. Accusatory eyes leapt to Gambit. Rogue stayed quiet and kept her attention on Kurt. Finally, it quieted enough for Kurt to continue his story.

On Genosha, Nightcrawler listened to the two Marauders speaking. He was elated that someone had survived the destruction, had lived this long, probably without food and water. Or maybe it was someone who'd been trapped by the collapsing citadel just within the last day or so. Either way, now he had two agendas. He had to rescue whomever Riptide and his fellow Marauder had found and he had to secure a working collar for Rogue.

Kurt heard a beep that he assumed was the activation of some sort of communications unit. The second male's voice, a man he now recognized as Scalphunter spoke.

"Sinister, we got a live one here," Scalphunter said.

A moment passed, then finally Sinister answered, "Interesting. You're in the infirmary on level two, correct?"

"Yeah, but…"

"I'll be there in a moment."

"But, sir. It's HIM."

A long pause followed. Kurt didn't think Sinister was going to answer, but he didn't have time to worry about it. He wouldn't have long until Sinister got there no matter where he was coming from. Sinister always had use of some sort of portal that the X-Men could never figure out. He had to act immediately. He hoped he wouldn't port into some chunk of the wall he couldn't see, but he didn't dwell on that idea. He didn't have time too.

Kurt ported behind Scalphunter just as Sinister answered through the comm link.

"Excellent," Sinister said. "And Scalphunter, Riptide? Do not hurt Nightcrawler too badly. I would like to have a word with him."

Kurt's kick to the small of Scalphunter's back cut off Scalphunter's answer to Sinister. Then Riptide landed a blow on Kurt from behind. Kurt didn't know what it was exactly that hit him, but it wasn't Riptide's mutant power. There was no accompanying wind, nor were there projectiles hitting him or the debris or wall beyond. He didn't have the chance to find out, either.

The blow landed him on the ground face first. For some reason, he couldn't move, but, from his position he could now see the face of the survivor that Riptide and Scalphunter had discovered. It was Magneto. The Master of Magnetism blinked.

In the War Room, a low menacing growl resonated from Logan. Bobby and Gambit both noticed Rogue go very still and watched her expression become very, very neutral. Emma, on the other hand, seemed lively and impressed.

"He was on life support in the infirmary at the time that Cassandra Nova had attacked," Emma said. She turned her steely gaze to Wolverine. "He was recovering from three holes in his chest."

On Genosha, in Nightcrawler's rendition, Scalphunter hauled the paralyzed Nightcrawler to his feet and supported him to face Sinister as he materialized in front of them.

"Afternoon, Nightcrawler," Sinister said. "To what do I owe this honor?"

Nightcrawler did not reply. He did not even try. He assumed since the rest of him couldn't move, neither would his mouth.

"Come, come, Kurt. How is your extended family? The Professor doing well?"

Sinister stepped closer to Kurt.

"What about Scott and Jean?"

He grasped Kurt's chin with his thumb and forefinger and lifted it. Kurt was forced to look him in the eyes.

"And Gambit? Rogue did rescue him from the energy beam, of course?"

Sinister leaned in real close to Kurt's face. Kurt felt himself blink. He was gaining movement.

"How is Mystique's protégé, your adoptive-sister, Rogue?"

Kurt blanched. He frantically wondered, Did he know? Could he know?

Sinister's smile broadened. He let go of Kurt and turned away as he said, "Well? That is your reason for trespassing here, is it not?"

Debris moved behind Nightcrawler, in Magneto's direction. Both Riptide and Scalphunter turned. Kurt took advantage of the distraction and kicked back with all of his slowly returning strength. It connected squarely with Scalphunter's kneecap and dropped Kurt. Free, Kurt teleported out of the way, just in time to get out of the way of Magneto's attack. Magneto was weak, but he made a good show of it. Kurt took cover behind a fallen pillar as debris flew in all directions. He had never been so happy to see Magneto so angry.

"It is you who are the trespasser, monster!" Magneto bellowed.

Magneto floated toward Sinister from behind. Sinister had moved to the other side of the room, passing Kurt along the way. Kurt didn't see where Scalphunter and Riptide went to, so he stayed pressed against the pillar and watched Magneto. Kurt was surprised to see that Sinister was ignoring Magneto as he picked through the pile of suppression collars.

"What are you doing here?" Magneto bellowed, still slowly floating toward Sinister. He was a sight to see. All contained rage, he radiated command and control like Xavier radiated intelligence. "What is your interest in the gene-traitor?" Kurt could have sworn that the Master of Magnetism trembled for an instant—that his anger grew just a little—when he asked, "With Rogue?"

Sinister did turn around to face both Magneto and Kurt then. He had a sardonic grin and held two suppression collars in his hands. "My plans for the lovers—"

Sinister was cut off briefly as Magneto, who probably suspected that Sinister intended the collars for Kurt and him, Kurt guessed, tore the collars from Sinister's grasp with his magnetic powers.

"Nien!" Kurt yelled at Magneto just before he ported to where the collars where thrown.

Sinister laughed. "Temper, temper, Magnus."

Magneto let Kurt have the collars. He didn't know what was going on here, why Kurt would want those damned things so badly, but he could have them. For the moment. Magneto's mind briefly reflected back to Antartica, to when he had imprisoned the small group of X-Men, suppressed their powers, and held that trial. He only allowed the memory a moment before shaking his head and concentrating on the monster in front of him. He would worry about Gambit and the others later; right then he had worse things to deal with.

Kurt caught the collars just before they crashed into the wall and were possibly destroyed. He didn't know if they were even operable, if any of them were operable, but he didn't want to take the chance.

"Gott in Himmel God in heaven/skies, Magnus!" Kurt cursed as he ported back near Magneto. He didn't want to be too near Sinister for too long. Magneto was definitely the lesser evil at the moment. "Do you care so little for your friends?" He yelled at Magnus, who was decidedly confused at Kurt's reaction. "You did consider her your friend once, right?"

"What are you going on about?" Magneto asked Kurt with exasperation. He was quickly losing whatever patience he had left.

Kurt did not get the chance to answer because Sinister spoke. "Enough of this," Sinister said. "Take those, Nightcrawler. They will serve your purposes," he paused and added silently to himself, And mine as well.

Kurt held the collars up before Magneto and asked, quietly, as if afraid of the answer, "Can you tell if they work?" Kurt's plea was as evident in his expression as it was in his voice.

Magneto looked Kurt over, then glanced to Sinister, not trusting him. Sinister shrugged. Magneto reached out with his powers to the collars and felt them. After a moment, he opened eyes and nodded to Kurt. "They are operable. They are… slightly off, perhaps damaged or –-" he flicked his eyes to Sinister, then back to Kurt "— altered, but they work as intended."

Kurt nodded in appreciation and made to port away, but Sinister raised a hand to stop him. Amusement infused Sinister's features as he spoke to Kurt his warning. "Keep Rogue well, Nightcrawler. I'll be watching should she finally figure herself out… and Gambit and Scott and Jean, as well."

Kurt ported away then. He did not see what transpired between Magneto and Sinister afterwards.

In the War Room, everyone was quiet for a moment after Kurt finished his story. Hank was the first to make any significant movement or sound. He picked up the collar and looked it over as he said, "I will begin tests on this and the other one immediately."

Gambit was next. He spoke quietly, resuming his angry tap-tapping of the playing card, "How could y' put Rogue at risk like dat, mon ami?"

"Hush, Cajun. He tried to tell us." That was from Wolverine.

"Did you notice any strange side effects from the collar, Rogue," Xavier asked calmly.

"Only that Ah didn't mind that Ah was wearing it," Rogue answered nonplused.

"Oh, dear," Hank exclaimed quietly.

"Ah plumb forgot Ah had it on, actually, 'til Ah woke up this morning," Rogue said.

"But was that because of the collar itself, or was that just you," Storm said. Rogue glared at her. "You did have a traumatizing few days. Your mind may have just been elsewhere."

"It'd take more than a might distraction—"

Several brows rose with those two words. Did she consider nearly dying merely a might distraction?

"—to make me forget Ah had one of those things on me, Storm." Her words were very precise, very angry, and laced with sarcasm. You know that, hung unspoken, but recognized by many there.

"Let's not jump to any conclusions," Xavier said, sensing the trembling tension that filled the room. "Henry will evaluate the devices and will report his findings."

"I would like to look at them as well," spoke up Sage. Xavier simply nodded in response.

"But what about Sinister," Warren said, glaring at Gambit, "We've effectively let him inside the mansion by bringing those things in here. Who knows what kind or sensors they have?"

The accusation against Gambit was palpable in Warren's voice. Gambit's eyes blazed with anger, the card in his hand glowed slightly, then simmered out.

"And Magneto too," Logan growled.

"It appears that Sinister didn't need the collars to spy on us, Warren," said Scott. This surprised Gambit. He didn't expect ol' one-eye to come to his defense.

"He knew what Kurt wanted. He knew what it was for. He insinuated that he knew why, maybe more than we do. He's already watching us with some other means," Jean said.

Gambit spoke with sadness in his voice, "He always does."

"I wonder what he was doing in Genosha in the first place," Storm said.

"And what happened between him and Mags after fuzzy elf high tailed it out of there," added Logan.

Bobby, who had been quiet, an unusual feat for him, but one that had become quite common since Rogue's episode, finally spoke. "We're missing the real point here," he said.

Everyone turned to look at him. Anticipation hung in the air, so did the expectancy for some inappropriate joke from him. Bobby almost winced from that, but he continued despite it, and asked, "What did he mean by 'Rogue figuring herself out'?"

Most of the X-Men who'd known him for so long were astonished or thoughtful, like he'd made a point they had indeed overlooked.

"He has never shown an interest in her before," Xavier admitted.

"Why now?" Bobby asked.

"It could be the evolution of her powers after Z'Cann," Hank offered.

"Perhaps," Xavier said. He was obviously considering the matter very seriously. "But that was a while ago and he had made no moves toward Rogue."

"Because he's still waiting," Bobby said and the others looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "He said 'He will be watching.' Will be. Future tense. Whatever he wants out of Rogue hasn't surfaced yet."

"So he's a pre-cog now too?" Logan huffed.

"No, he's not interested in t'ings like dat," Gambit admitted.

A part of Remy was actually glad that his experiences with Essex could be helpful. Scott and Jean had a limited involvement with the man, an involvement that had always centered on them. They had no clue how Essex worked on the overall. Beyond all his experimenting, his theories, his efforts to cleanse the mutant genetic stream, to build a better mutant, that was what motivated him. He was all about research, about studying. His theories and all that were an endgame, a prize, and it was always changing. That's what the others didn't realize. It was the research that drove him. That's where it always started—with the research, not the theory.

"And what exactly is he interested in, Gambit," Warren asked, eyes narrowing on Gambit. "Would you care to enlighten us?"

"Research," Scott answered for Gambit, surprising the Cajun momentarily.

"Oui," Gambit simply answered.

"But he doesn't have anything of me to research," Rogue said. "He's never held me in one of his labs. He ain't never stuck a needle in me. And it ain't like Ah go around leaving blood trails."

"Maybe he just wants to rustle our feathers," Logan suggested.

"No," Gambit said.

"Gambit's right," Scott said. "Sinister doesn't care about politics. He doesn't care about enemies. Science doesn't have enemies. It just is."

"He got his own theories about Rogue. Somet'ing he couldn't get on his own. Somet'ing he's had to wait for. And whatever he wants he's getting impatient for it."

"Ya'll are crazy," Rogue said, dragging the attention back to her. "What could he possibly want from me. My powers ain't never been of interest to anyone. Even with Mystique, she was more interested in training me for espionage, than having me suck the thoughts and powers out of people. That was always a last resort. So, what does he care about me? He wants to make me his super soldier? Fill me with dozens of powers? Ah already have that. And it ain't like Ah'm ever going to work for him willingly. What's he going to do? Tempt me with control of my powers? Ah never wanted that bad enough. Ah came to terms with that a long time ago."

Gambit winced.

Rogue felt the urge to placate him, but bit her tongue. He would just have to understand on his own. Rogue didn't mean anything about him with her comment about working for Sinister. He would just have to trust that she didn't hold that against him. She didn't consider that Gambit's reaction was about her blanket-acceptance of never being able to touch. To him, her acceptance of that meant that she had given up on ever trying to control them, on ever being able to choose whether she absorbed someone with her touch or not. It meant that she'd given up on intimacy. And that, Gambit didn't want to admit to.

"Ah'm not even in the class of powers he's interested in," Rogue continued. "Sure Ah've acquired access to Gambit's and Jean's and Scott's powers, but is that enough. Ah'm nowhere near as powerful with them as ya'll are."

Rogue took a deep breath. All this business with Sinister and his experiments was giving her a headache. It didn't seem like she was convincing anyone that she had nothing to offer Sinister that she couldn't have offered him before. In fact, most of them seemed to be annoyed by her excuses. Their expressions seemed almost accusing her that her recent episode factors in to what Sinister wants, like she's hiding something from them. If she is, she's as much in the dark about it as they are.

Rogue sighed. "Look ya'll. He isn't interested in me. He just isn't. Think about it. He had plenty of opportunities to capture me and he hasn't. My powers haven't changed in any way that he couldn't have forced on me on his own. All he had to do was strap me down and make me absorb some mutants permanently. Not like he care if he killed someone in the process. Heck, he'd probably have some way to inject their genes right into my bloodstream or something scientific like that."

"Your arguments are sound, Rogue," Storm admitted. "But his actions with the collars, and his blatant statement to Nightcrawler suggest otherwise."

"We must be missing something," Wolverine said.

"But what?" Hank said. "Let's think about this rationally. What Rogue says is true. The only people he's shown interest in he's collected genetic material from. He's got tissue samples from Scott when he was an orphan, from Jean when she was in stasis on the moon. It wasn't until after he had those samples that he'd shown an interest in them. But to my knowledge he has never acquired such things from Rogue, nor has he ever sought to."

"What if he didn't need to?" Emma asked.

Jean was startled by Emma's question. It was obvious that it reminded her of something.

"What if he had some other sort of evidence?" Emma shared a knowing look with Jean.

Jean then looked pointedly at Storm and then at Scott. "Yes. What if he had a more personal example?"

"Not'ing more personal den blood, n'est-ce pas?"

"Except being in your mind," Rogue said quietly. The memory arose with the realization. It made her shiver. She shoved it back deep inside. She didn't want to remember that. She could talk about it, but she didn't want to relive it.

"Wait," Gambit said, standing abruptly. "Essex be a lot of t'ings, but he isn't a telepat'. How he be in your head?"

"He does have his ways, Gambit," Bishop said. "He read memories I couldn't even access when he captured us after we stopped that train [1]."

"But dat took de use o' his lab. You all said Rogue's never been stuck in one of his labs."

"Ah absorbed him once." Rogue said guiltily. "He took over me. He was worse than Carol. He had complete control all at once [2]."

"Could he have discovered something you don't even know about?" Scott asked Rogue.

"How the hell should Ah know what he saw," Rogue spat defensively, "Ah was shoved so far inside that Ah hardly knew Ah was in there at all."

"Could he have planted something inside you?" Xavier asked tentatively. He didn't want to give the impression that Rogue was a spy for him, unknowingly or otherwise. But he had to cover that possibility, as hurtful as it may be.

Bishop picked up on it as well and he looked at Rogue with new eyes. His mind reeled back to the transmission he'd found before he'd come to this time. It had been very similar to the one that Jean had left during the Onslaught incident, but with pieces missing as it was, it could've been from something else. Jean had said, "powers negated." And that essentially it was what happened when Rogue touched someone and stole his powers. It could explain why Gambit was the last to see the X-Men alive. It could explain why the witness would never tell. He and Rogue were involved.

"Ah see those thoughts churning in your head, Bishop. You can forget all about them. He isn't in here," she said as she tapped her temple. She wasn't defensive at all. She was just certain. "Ah may not be aware of all the memories in my head…"

She was halted as she heard all the thoughts about her recent episode from everyone at the table. She felt all their pity for her and worse, their disbelief in her mental health, but she clamped down tighter on her shields and continued.

"…But Ah have access to all the powers of all those that are there, mutant or not. And Ah don't have access to him. The Seige Perilous got rid of what was left of him when it got rid of Carol for good. And Ah've never touched him since. He's gone. And thank gawd for that," Rogue said with a curt laugh. "Could ya'll just imagine that. Grey skin like the dead and a red diamond in my forehead. It just isn't my style."

Storm actually laughed at that. The others looked at her like she was speaking another language, like she was living at the bottom of the well. What did it matter if she had taken on his appearance? That would have been the least of their worries. Everything about her episode and how she had openly behaved following it was bewildering to them.

Bishop grunted, interrupting the uncomfortable silence. "So what are we going to do about all this. Are we going to stop him from spying on us? Are we going to confront him?"

"And what about Magneto?" Logan snapped. "Do we just ignore him after all he's done?"

"I don't think there's anything we can do about it right now," Xavier said. "Sinister is obviously using means that we are unable to detect. Perhaps Hank will discover something in the collars to help that, but more than likely Sinister covered that basis."

"And Magneto," Scott asked before Wolverine could continue on that tirade. He didn't want to let the easily agitated mutant's bias control that topic.

"There's nothing we can do about him either," Xavier said, soliciting a growl from Logan. "We are not going to track him down and kill him. And from what Kurt relayed to us, he doesn't seem to be posing any kind of danger at the moment. He seems to be the only survivor of Genosha. It will take him time to build up his resources."

"What if Sinister took him?" Rogue asked in a very carefully neutral voice.

Gambit went still with her question. He never liked her continued affection for Magnus. He didn't know if she was still attracted to him or how much she still cared for him.

She still feeling obligated to him for saving her in de savage land? Dat was a long time ago. And he left her in de end. He made his choice and he's always stuck to it. He may not strike to kill her, but he doesn't hesitate to fight her, oui?

"You still care what happens to him?" Logan asked angrily. "Even after that farce of a trial, you're still defending him?"

"Not that at all, Wolvie," Rogue said with a mischievous grin, "Ah want my own pound of flesh for that one, sugah. But ah may not ever get it if Sinister's got his claws in him."

Wolverine grunted in approval. "I hear that."

"I do not agree with Rogue's reasons," Storm said, "But she does make a point. If Sinister does have Magneto, it could be disastrous."

Xavier nodded. "This is true. And disconcerting. Perhaps a recon mission to Genosha is in order. We will discuss this later, though. Right now our priorities are dependent on what Hank discovers about the collars. You will contact me as soon as you have made some significant headway?"

Hank nodded.

"Very good, then," Xavier said.

Recognizing the dismissal, the X-Men excused themselves and scattered throughout the mansion to deal with this newly realized threat in their own ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"…Oh you know you ought to get yourself together. But, you cannot bear to walk outside your door. No you cannot bear to look into the mirror anymore…" (Crazy Baby –by Joan Osborne)

Rogue interacted with the others on a tertiary level.

Using the big words now, Sugar. See what kind of influence you're having with me, she said to the myriad of ghosts inside her head.

She interacted with these ghosts much in the way that she interacted with the X-Men. She always had a portion of her concentration dedicated to her shields, specifically to the tacky web that wrapped her deepest thoughts, her Core, as she'd named it. She always added more to the web every time she added a thought inside it. Lately, though, she found strands that stretched across the expanse of her mind. Several were stretching from the web loosely constructed around the area of her mind that was the basis of her absorption powers. The web she'd built there was a conscious connection to her mind's active awareness. It's how she taught her herself to always cover up, by covering up the source of her absorption inside her mindscape as well as outside it. The web there had strands that linked to all the ghosts inside her mind. The physical representation of this area was a dark corner of her mindscape that was cropped off with a web that kept her absorption powers corralled behind it. The effect was rather contradicting, not so unlike Rogue herself. It sort of looked like an intricate Victorian latticework window on a toxic waste storage unit. Rogue simply called it her Closet.

She had always been careful to keep that separated from the heavily shielded core, though. There would always be one or two strands connecting the two. There was no way around that. The entire sequence of web shielding was initiated at the Core. She had no way of separating them. And despite Xavier and Jean's instruction, she'd never been able to build shields of anything other than the web. She knew it was dangerous for those two things to mingle. That idea was connected to the loose binding of the Closet as well. And with those strands of web that represented that idea, she'd been able to monitor the mingling between the shielding of the two shielded areas of her mind.

She stroked one of the several strands that had formed between the two areas. It sent tingling sensations throughout all of her. She didn't like that. It was dangerous. It made her think of the possibility of more control and she knew that wasn't possible. In the past when she had tried to strengthen the webbed shields of the Closet, all she managed to do was create more strands that linked to the memory Core. And that was dangerous, so she had just stopped. But now, there were more strands linking the two areas than ever before. She didn't remember them forming and not remembering scared her as much as their discovery did.

No use fretting over it though, Sugar. Just sever them and reinforce the Core some more. You've done it a hundred times, if you've done it once, she reminded herself.

Rogue settled herself in her room for the private ritual. She felt compelled to be more formal about it than usual. She used to just look inside herself, pluck away the strands, and continue on her way. She done it so much, she didn't even have to concentrate that much. She wouldn't have done it in the middle of a fight, but she could do it while eating, or talking, or even while flying—all without skipping a beat. This time though, she admitted the necessity of a concentration she hadn't exerted since before she'd joined the X-Men. She admitted she'd gotten lazy and that now she was facing the consequences.

To keep out all distractions, she sealed up anything that could be an doorway, even superstitious doorways like glass and mirrors. She locked her bedroom door. She even closed her closet door and the door leading to her half-bathroom. Next, she covered up her full-length mirror on the back of the door. Then she covered the mirror on her dresser. She closed her drapes and added a second covering to secure the double threat of the window. Then she checked under her furniture, all of it. She looked under her bed, her night stand, both chairs, her desk, and her two dressers. She didn't really think there was anything under there. She used the act as a buffer to checking out all the easily dismissed shadows in her head.

Even after all this time, a lot of the ghosts in her head weren't too friendly, let alone forgiving. Some of them had gotten more uppity since she'd started being able to access their powers by her own will. Doing so had made them more hers. She could almost feel how the use of them caused the genetic signature of them to graft more solidly onto her own DNA. It was a strange sensation, similar to the one she felt when she stroked the strands that linked the Core, the Closet, the ghosts, and the outer defenses. She still didn't know what to make of the strands that seemed to be randomly stretching the expanse of her mind. She guessed that there was a connection between them and the other powers taking deeper root in her own genetic structure, but it was still too early to be sure.

Rogue sighed and seated herself comfortably on her bed. She hated that aspect of herself. So much of her shields and her powers and her mind in general were a learn-a-little-at-a-time-as-you-go sort of thing. It always seemed to be changing, growing, shifting. That's what Hank and the Professor never seemed to understand. She was constantly damning herself, in more ways than one, constantly suppressing her absorption power as much as she was suppressing the urge to use it and the clatter of ghostly people inside of her mind. Absorption powers, she absently corrected herself. There was more than one. There was more than just the seething another person's consciousness or that person's memories or that person's abilities or that person's energy or that person's genetic structure. She cut herself off there.

Time to get to work, she reminded herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"…And your hands are really shaking something awful as your worries crawl around inside your clothes. Oh, how long will you be sitting in the darkness, heaven knows…" (Crazy Baby –by Joan Osborne)

Ah failed. A thing as simple as that and Ah couldn't do it.

Sobs wracked her body with unshed tears. Not crying? Well, that much she would control. Her hands shook uncontrollably, the finest tremor. It stole away all her strength. All that powerful strength. Her limbs felt like wet noodles. Her chest hurt with the repeated sharp intakes of breath. Her head was pounding. All she could manage to contain was the unbidden release of all those myriad of powers that were now hers to access at will. Her depleted strength could hardly contain them. Finally, too weak to do it all, she had to let the tears flow.

She'd spent hours tugging on the straying strands of her webbed shields. She started with the simplest parts first: the strands that stretched from Closet and across the expanse of her mind. She felt the pull all the way inside the Core, and she shouldn't have. Worse, she felt the strands defend themselves. They reinforced themselves. They thickened, became tackier, and lengthened. It even felt like they breached the confines of her mind. She felt them in her chest. She felt them in her limbs. Finally, after a long while, she stopped tugging on them.

Better leave those stubborn suckers alone for now. Probably acting up because of the other problem. Deal with that one, then come back to this one.

Problem was, this one, the Closet problem, was the easier one. And when she moved onto the more difficult problem, the Core, she realized that the defensive reinforcement wasn't isolated to those from the Closet. There were even more strands linking the Core and the Closet. At least a hundred or two, she'd guessed. And they were thick, no, not just thick, they were like rope. The strands were no longer individuals. Several strands coiled and twisted around each other forming tacky, silky ropes. And there were at least a hundred or two of these ropes.

She tugged and tugged on the ropes. Each tug shot spikes of pain through her and worse, waves of euphoria. One sensation rode the other, rippling across the ropes throughout the entire web system until it crescendoed in her toes. And like with her attack on the other strands, there were repercussions for the attack on these ropes. They multiplied, thickened, strengthened and became tackier. Again. The strands were not strands anymore, anywhere. All there was now was ropes. Thick, knotted ropes connected all of her.

That's when the fatigue started in. She felt the other powers creeping to the surface. She was losing her hard won control over them. She had to leave the web and concentrate on her imprinted powers. She was thankful that they came from the ghosts. She was thankful that the ghosts were still only connected to the Closet by the thinnest, most delicate ropes. But, by the time she'd wrestled control over the other powers, the fatigue had settled into her bones. She stretched out a tentative touch to the core. It shivered under her touch, caressing her in return. She gasped.

What's happening to me?

To her surprise, she got an answer.

"Yoah healin', Rogue," the Core of her told her. At least it felt like it came from the Core.

The formation and protection of the Core was the construct of a young child, years before the absorption of Cody. Rogue existed before that particular manifestation of power. That onset had only confirmed to Rogue, what she had already feared, but refused to accept. Touch was painful, and had to be forbidden.

Rogue, outside the Core, noticed the ghostly wisps, like a shimmering mist, that escaped the thinning webbing that wrapped around the core. "Ah see ya. Come on out of there. Let me see which ghost you are."

The wisp swirled and shimmered as it escaped the confines of the web. "Ah'm no ghost, Sugah. Ah'm not a who at all."

"What are ya then?"

"The clouds gathered in a spider web purse."

Rogue recognized the phrase from her childhood. Memories are clouds gathered in a spider web purse.

"Ya're my memories?"

"Yes."

"Well, Ah'm used to dealing with strange memories, but you feel different. You're kinda giving me the willies here."

"Yoah used to dealing with other people's memories, Rogue. Ya ain't like other people, other mutants. Yoah memories are different, more palpable than others' memories."

"Sure, whatever ya say." It was licked with sarcasm.

"It's time to remember. It's time to deal. It's time figure it all out." The Core quivered as it formed another rope between it and the webbing of the Closet. "We must have Union."

The word reverberated through her and she remembered the smallest tid-bit of something. It reminded her of something from the Ghostbusters movie. One character had told another character that it was too dangerous to ever cross the streams. Later, they had to cross the streams to survive, to save them all. The reference wasn't accurate, but the movie had always struck a disconcerted chord in her. It had always made her shiver, like when someone blew across the nape of her neck, like when Gambit blew across the nape of her neck. For the first time, since before Cody, and even earlier, before anyone called her Rogue, she sensed truth. She recognized the connection between the Core and the Closet. The Closet never contained her power-basis like she thought. It contained her absorption powers, true. But her real power basis, the stem of it all, had always been trapped inside the Core. The other thing was just one aspect, the piece that manifested with Cody. The rest, the part that was in the Core, had submerged from latency inside the Core. It had been sealed off all this time, and now it wanted to cross streams with the rest. It wanted Union.

"No, not yet," Rogue sobbed, sharp breaths wracking her body.

It was only a piece she was remembering, just one escaped wisp of the cloud. This piece hurt. It hurt worse than anything she'd ever endured. It was worse than being without powers in a Genoshan Magistrate's cell. It hurt more then all of Gambit's memories. It hurt worse than Eric the Red, no, Erik Lensherr's mind raping her for those memories at the trial. It hurt worse than leaving Remy in the Antarctic. It hurt so much and it was just a piece.

"Soon."

"Oh my Gawd," Rogue cried, too tired to hold back the tears. "Ah can't do this. Ah can't. Ah'll go crazy. Ah know it."

~~~~~~~~~~~

"…Oh, my crazy baby. Try to hold on tight. Oh, my crazy baby. Don't put out the light…" (Crazy Baby –by Joan Osborne)

It wasn't very late and the X-Men were relaxing and enjoying themselves in various ways all over the grounds. And some of them, like Gambit and Wolverine, did so off the grounds. Their distance made them among the last to feel the fatigue creep in on them. Wolverine felt it just before Gambit did. His catch had been more recently reinforced. The most recent of all actually. But his distance and his healing factor had kept him from feeling it so quickly or so deeply.

Several X-Men felt nothing at all. They had no catch to soak them in fatigue and drain away their strength. Some of them included Neal, Sage, Hank, Stacy X and Jono. They felt nothing and noticed nothing about the catch in the others. To them it appeared as though their companions had simply grown sleepy a little earlier than usual. These X-Men felt the catch in differing levels for a variety of reasons. Some of them, like Jean and Xavier, and perhaps even Gambit had he been close enough, could have picked up on the catch if they had ever known it was there. But they were not yet aware. They had theories, nothing more. Besides, they were so tired, and wouldn't it be nice to get ready for bed. It's only a couple hours early.

Bobby felt it first. Other than Logan, he'd been the most recent to have the catch. He was a lot nearer than Logan was and he didn't have a healing factor to protect him. But Bobby's catch was very weak. It had only been his first contact with the catch and it had been brief and weak due to the weakened state of Rogue at the time that the catch had been formed. He had been on his way to Rogue's room when he felt it. He had rented a few movies and carried a bowl of popcorn. He was going to invite her down to join him and some others in the rec room for the movie. When Rogue opened the door for him, he saw she was crying. And with the catch and her tears, he decided to offer to watch the movies in her room if she didn't feel like facing the others.

"Ah'd like that Bobby," Rogue had said shamefully.

"I don't mind, Rogue," he'd said as she closed the door behind him. "I like helping you. You take me more seriously than the others do."

The other X-Men ceased feeling so eager for bed. They were tired, but the sleepiness had stopped its compounding increase. Bobby and Rogue, on the other hand, welcomed the onset of their drowsiness as they drifted into the comedic lull of The Princess Bride. They both huddled on the bed with the bowl of popcorn between them. They were both dressed from head to toe in comfy sweats, thick socks and thin gloves. They were as comfortable with each other as they were in their clothes. It was as familiar to them as the movie they'd seen more times than they could count. The familiarity was easy, as easy as the transfer on the catch. It was as welcomed as their drowsiness. They fell asleep long before the movie ended. They fell asleep long before the other X-Men got ready for bed. They fell asleep even longer before Gambit and Wolverine separately made their way home.

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FOOTNOTES:

[1] This happened a while back, before Onslaught and the arrival of Joseph with Rogue's return to the X-Men.

[2] This happened even further back, during the Inferno story when Madelyn was the Goblin Queen.

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