Darkholme ushered her into a black stretch limo waiting in the airport parking lot. Rogue looked around appreciatively. "Nice ride," she said in approval as the principal climbed in herself and motioned to the driver (who did not speak nor show his face) that they should pull away.
"I like to conduct business meetings comfortably," Darkholme said, nodding.
"Business meetings? Uh, right. So, where are all the stiffs in suits, Principal Darkholme?"
Without warning, Darkholme morphed into Mystique. Rogue froze and looked in terror at the driver. Mystique smiled. "It's all right, Rogue. Nobody can see us. And he knows I'm a mutant. He knows, Rogue."
"Does he know what Ah am?" asked Rogue, frowning. She didn't exactly want it spread around town.
"He doesn't know, nor does he care. He's paid not to care."
"Fulfillin' job," quipped Rogue.
Mystique looked as though she was trying not to smile. "Are you jetlagged at all, Rogue?"
Rogue waved a hand to indicate that she was undecided. "A bit. Ah've never flown on an airplane before."
Mystique's eyebrows lifted the slightest fraction. "Really?"
"Well, yeah."
"All right." There was something weird about the tone of her voice. "Just lie back then, Rogue. We'll be at the Brotherhood headquarters soon."
"Thanks." Rogue leaned her head back.
"You start school tomorrow. All the things you'll need for school are waiting for you back at the house. Do you feel you need to call Irene when you get home?"
Rogue looked at Mystique and nodded. "Yes, please."
"You'll be allowed to call her once a week, although as this is your first week in Bayville and you've never lived away from home before I suppose I can turn a blind eye to you calling her more than once. But only for the first week. Does that sound fair to you?"
Shrugging, Rogue answered, "Sure."
"You do know that you're expected to make your own meals and do your own laundry?"
Rogue looked at her incredulously. "Do you think Ah'm a kid or something? Of course Ah knew that."
Mystique looked down at her hands and then at Rogue. "You travelled very light for a teenage girl, Rogue. That's promising. You know what's important."
"Ah would have only brought one bag, but Ah couldn't leave mah guitar and it needs its own case, so whatever."
"I didn't know you were musical." Mystique did not sound thrilled about this.
"Ah'm not, really. Ah'm teachin' mahself to play. Ah-" (she hesitated) "- Ah like to write songs. Just bits of songs."
"Really." Mystique looked as though she was trying not to appear interested. "So... what else are you interested in?"
Rogue found it hard to believe someone like Mystique could want to be informed of her hobbies. "Um. Ah like to write songs. Ah can sing a bit, but Ah don't like that to get out. Ah like martial arts, Ah went to classes until last year. Ah like music and clothes, sort of. Ah read too."
"What do you like to read?"
"Well- most people think this is kinda weird, but Ah really love vampire novels. Ah'm totally obsessed. Ah've read every Anne Rice book I could get mah hands on. Ah've read Christopher Pike too; he did this good series. But mah favourite book of all time is Dracula, by Bram Stoker. Ah adore vampire novels."
Mystique let herself smile. "I knew you would."
Rogue tried not to feel offended that Mystique thought she'd like vampire novels just because she dressed like a goth. It wasn't like she knew Rogue or anything. Grudgingly, she went on, "Ah read some thrillers too, and other horror stories. But most of all Ah like mah vampire books. There's just somethin' about them that really gets to me. But usually when Ah tell people how much Ah like 'em they go all awkward and think it's some kinda freaky sexual thing-" She stopped and blushed as Mystique laughed.
"Go on," said Mystique, smiling. The smile was disconcerting because you could see her pointed canine teeth, but it was genuine.
Rogue looked embarrassed. "Still, Ah- Ah guess Ah have a foolproof reason for likin' 'em now, don't Ah? Ah mean, Ah am a literal vampire mahself."
"Those are some good, well-rounded interests, Rogue. I'm an educator, after all, I should know about teenagers and good, well-rounded interests," smirked Darkholme.
"Is there anyone else at these headquarters?" asked Rogue.
"Two boys already live there. Todd Tolensky and Lance Alvers. They're both about your age. I'm trying to recruit a mutant boy who shows off his powers for money... in a ring." She looked deeply scornful. "Like a trained animal. God."
"Yeah," said Rogue softly, feeling a powerful surge of admiration for the woman. She must really care about mutants havin' dignity and stuff.
"Bayville isn't a hard town to get your head around, Rogue. A couple of weeks and you'll have found out basically everything you need to know about it. There aren't many ways to get into trouble in Bayville." Mystique smirked, as though she thought she had wrecked Rogue's fun and liked that idea.
Rogue folded her arms. "Ya don't need to worry about me. Ah don't get out much. At least, not in the way you think."
Mystique clapped her hands. "Excellent. You are going to be a great addition to our cause, Rogue."
Rogue frowned and then, for some reason, twitched rather audibly. She got a glazed look in her eye.
"... Rogue?" she heard Mystique say from what seemed to be very far away. "Is there something wrong?"
A tall figure was holding a punchbag still for her after she'd been hitting it for a few minutes. "Good. Now, do it again. Try and hit the same mark."
She blew some sweaty strands of hair out of her face angrily. "Not try and hit the same mark. Ah did hit the same friggin' mark. This sucks, Ah got how to do this exercise long ago and you're still makin' me do it and Ah don't even understand why."
The figure smirked. "Consider it revision of tactics, Rogue."
"Ah want to take a break."
The figure shook its head, sneering maddeningly. "It's not time for your break yet, Rogue. You can still get in a good twenty minutes."
"Ah want a drink of water, then."
"Your drink bottle's right there," the figure said, pointing at a plastic bottle sitting on the floor a short way away. "But don't drink too much water, you'll get sluggish."
She was flushing with frustration. "Ah hate this!" She pulled off her boxing gloves and threw them on the ground with a shriek of rage. "Now let me take a break!"
Before she had time to blink she felt a hand at her throat. The figure walked her briskly backwards until she backed up into a wall. It was a big room; it took her a fair few seconds to hit the wall. The room was also underground, it was lit by blazing fluorescent lights in the ceiling. The figure held her tightly by her neck. She stared up in shock.
"You will do what I tell you," said the figure smoothly. "You are learning this so you can become an active member of our cause. If I wasn't so patient a teacher I might break your neck. You know I can do that, Rogue. You know I would, if you weren't who you are."
As much as the death-grip on her throat would allow, Rogue nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good." The figure released her and then walked her over to where she had been standing before. "Put on your gloves now, Rogue."
"Y-Yes ma'am," Rogue said rather shrilly, picking up the gloves and jamming her hands into them hastily.
The figure gave her skinny shoulders a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. Then the figure walked, as though she had all the time in the world, to the punching bag. She held it steady. "Rogue, dearie. Hit the mark again, now."
Shakily, Rogue held up her fists.
"That's right," crooned the figure. "Hold up your fists, just like that. Good girl." She paused. "Do you need to catch your breath?"
"That never stopped me before." Rogue did exactly what she was told and started hitting the mark.
"... Rogue!"
Rogue jumped. "Uh, what?"
"You went blank, dear."
"Guess Ah am jetlagged, then," said Rogue.
"Hmm. Did you not sleep on the plane at all?"
"Not a wink."
"Lie back. You'll be at your new home soon."
Rogue smiled slightly. "Mah new home..." She liked the sound of that.
"That's right."
Rogue actually did succeed in falling half-asleep, but jolted awake as the limo came to a stop. "Are we there yet?" she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes.
"Yes. Come on, come and see it." Sunlight poured into the backseat of the limo as the driver opened the door.
"Thanks, Jeeves," muttered Rogue as she climbed out of the car, and she grinned rather wickedly. For some reason she stopped smiling as Mystique (who had shifted back into her Darkholme form) gave her a sharp look.
"Rogue..." she said warningly.
"Sorry, ma'am," Rogue blurted, lowering her gaze. She frowned as she hauled her bags out of the trunk of the limo. Since when did she call people 'ma'am'? Rogue was by turns polite for her age and a right little sarcastic bleeder, but... ma'am? Where had that come from?
It was only when she straightened up, loaded down with her luggage, that she got a good look at the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House. It was big. Big and creepy-looking.
"What do you think?" asked Darkholme. She didn't sound like she expected Rogue to be overly thrilled, but Rogue figured she might as well fake a little enthusiasm.
Rogue bit at her lip. "It's big," she said seriously. Not to mention creepy-lookin'.
"It's daunting at first. It hasn't been lived in for awhile, either." Darkholme wasn't apologising for this. Rogue could tell by her voice. "It's in good repair, though."
Rogue jumped as an explosive crash emanated from within. Darkholme simply thinned her mouth and glowered.
"... Although the other tenants may soon do something to change that. I'll go ahead. You can show yourself in." Darkholme stormed up the front steps, across the porch and through the front door, which Rogue could now see was slightly ajar. She heard a distant yell of, "What have you clods DONE?"
The limo started to drive away. Rogue wondered briefly where it was kept, because she saw no sign of a garage. She watched in silence as it wove its way down the drive and through the dilapidated gates. Over under a tree she could see a car parked- a little way beyond that, a Jeep was chained to a tree.
She showed herself in as Darkholme had suggested. In the front hall was a flight of stairs leading up to the second floor, as well as several doorways leading into a kitchen area and a living room, which was where the yelling was coming from.
Rogue followed the sounds of yelling into the front living room. Darkholme stood there, bellowing at two mutinous-looking boys. Sensing Rogue's presence, she turned around to speak to her. "Ah, Rogue. These are Toad and Avalanche."
Rogue gave them a supremely unimpressed look. "Ah'm Rogue."
The taller boy had brown hair in a mullet hairdo. He folded his arms. "Lance Alvers."
"The name's Todd, yo," said the shorter boy. He was skinny, with a crooked spine that gave him a hunchback. He grinned evilly with yellow, broken teeth.
"Now that we've dispatched preliminaries, Rogue, there are spare rooms upstairs. The bathroom is second on the left. The third door on the right is your room."
"Thanks." Rogue went to leave.
"Hey, is she comin' with us today?" asked Todd.
"No," said Darkholme in a chilly voice.
"What? That ain't fair," whined Toad. "She's our age, ain't she? She's still in high school."
"She is staying here today and that is final, Toad."
"But-"
Rogue had been leaving the room, but stopped as she heard something like a lion's roar erupt from the living room. "What the f-" she gasped, rushing back to the doorway. Darkholme was standing with folded arms, glaring at the boys. Toad was gibbering with fright, and Avalanche had gone pale.
Rogue shook her head and went up the stairs. Weird, she thought.
The room that was hers was an OK size. Rogue piled her bags at the end of her bed and lay down. She drifted off to sleep.
That day was decidedly boring. It shouldn't have been. Rogue was well used to being alone, and the boarding house was a good place to explore. Rogue took a long shower (which was agony- something about the shower nozzle thing caused each the water to sear into her back like tiny drills), washed her hair, unpacked her things and looked through her new schoolthings, which were inside her room. She thought it might have been a lack of company, but when the boys came home from school she locked herself up in her room, and didn't come down even when they yelled they'd got pizza.
The next morning she was up at five AM, fully dressed by five-thirty. She had to wait ages for the boys, who just messed around watching cartoons and eating endless cereal. She got a little agitated and went to Mystique, who had shifted into her Darkholme form and was about to leave for work.
"Mystique, Ah'm gonna be late on mah first day. Can't ya do something?" She expected Mystique to tell her to do her own griping, or offer to write her a note, or something. However, Darkholme simply nodded.
"Very well. I'll give you a lift."
That was how Rogue found herself sitting in the front passenger seat of Principal Darkholme's car. She watched the trees and manicured lawns of the suburbs wash past the car windows, and finally asked, "Are we almost there?"
"Yes."
"OK, ya can let me out here."
Darkholme raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
"Ah can't turn up at school on mah first day in the principal's car. They'll eat me alive."
"You should have thought of that before you accepted my offer to give you a ride to school. Besides, there's only a few blocks to go."
"A few blocks in which direction?"
Darkholme gave her an appraising look. "East." With an eye-roll, she pulled over to the side of the road. "There'll probably be a lot of students walking to the school, and anyway, you can't miss it."
"'Preciate it." Rogue climbed out onto the sidewalk, shouldering her backpack. She leaned over to say this to Darkholme through the open front passenger window.
"I understand how important it is to people your age to be popular, Rogue." Darkholme looked very scathing.
Rogue looked disbelieving. "Please. You think Ah actually go in for that crap? Ah'm wicked bad and Ah want everyone to stay away from me, and Ah wanna start by not showin' up in the principal's car, OK? Ya clear?"
"Crystal," said Darkholme, looking much less scathing. They parted ways there.
As Rogue walked to school her heart became heavy. She felt the same way she had on her first day at Berridge High, more so as she walked in and saw with one glance that nobody was like her. Her head became lowered as she found the front office. The secretary even looked perky, and yet she felt so apprehensive all of a sudden that even that didn't sway her.
"Hi, I'm Dorothy. May I help you?" asked Dorothy the Perky Secretary.
"Yeah. Ah- Ah'm Rogue Adler. Ah'm here to pick up mah schedule and stuff."
Dorothy studied something. "Oh, yes. Rogue Adler. Principal Darkholme asks that you see her in her office before school."
"OK."
Dorothy smiled kindly, in the vapid way of someone with no predicaments such as Rogue's in their life. "Don't worry, the first day is always a little scary."
Rogue resented being spoken to as if she were half her present age. However, she muttered, "Sure." and went into the principal's office.
Darkholme sat behind her desk, looking through some papers. Without looking up, she said, "I see you made it to school without being abducted, Rogue." She looked up and smirked. "What do you think so far?"
"Ah've only been here for about ten minutes."
"Indulge me. And please, sit down."
Rogue sat, searching for something to say. "Secretary's a piece of work, ain't she?" She managed to smile for about half a second, then averted her gaze. "Uh- y'don't have a dress code or somethin' here, do ya? 'Cause everyone stared at me in the halls like Ah had two heads."
"People stare at what they don't understand, dear. You, Rogue, are an enigma."
Rogue suspected this was a compliment. She mumbled something and hunched over just that little bit more in her seat.
Darkholme was sitting on her desk now. She swung her legs slightly. "Stop into the office for your schedule, I'm afraid I don't have it here."
Rogue nodded mutely.
Darkholme heaved a great sigh as if this endeavour was taking everything out of her, smiled in her thin way, folded her hands and said, "Welcome to Bayville High. I'm sure you'll be very happy here. Happy and safe."
Rogue stiffened. Happy, safe. Together, those words were alien to her. Her shoulder and rib began to ache just thinking about all she'd endured. "Sure. Thank you." She got up and left.
From the pocket of her skirt she extracted the communicator that Jean Grey had given her. She stared at it, barely remembering how she'd got it. Rogue wondered how great its range was and where the giver, Jean Grey, was now.
She picked up her schedule from the front office and looked closely at it. The classes she could stand- French, English- intermixed with the ones she hated- European History and Geometry. Rogue knew that was probably some kind of clever metaphor for her life, but she couldn't be bothered to think of it now.
And in the hallways, whose population of scurrying students greatly diminished as they disappeared into their classes, Rogue stepped into the shadows, figuring they'd let her be late on her first day, and fiddled with the communicator.
A squawk of static erupted from it, making her jump. She had the weirdest feeling that she was not alone.
Slowly, dreading what she would see, the sound of static somehow growing louder and louder until it threatened to drown her, Rogue raised her face to gaze upon four teenagers who had stopped in the hallway upon recognising her.
Two boys, two girls. An astonished-looking youth her age, with longish dark hair and the kind of skin she would have expected of a European- pale, though not so much as hers. A brown-haired senior wearing blood-red shades that masked his eyes. A tall, elegant sort of girl with red hair and a petite freshman girl with her brunette hair tied in a ponytail.
The X-Men.
Rogue couldn't breathe. They couldn't have come this far, waited this long to get her!
But... no. They attended Bayville High too. Rogue remembered now, from Kurt's memories. She knew there was a reason why it had looked so familiar when she'd seen it the first time...
Safe! Safe HERE? What had Darkholme been thinking? Hadn't Irene told her? Hadn't anyone checked-?
The X-Men stared at the rogue in plain confusion, and she stared back in great fear. In one smooth movement she lifted a hand and dropped the communicator into the nearest trash bin. Every second was eternal. It felt like she was a character in a film moving in slow motion and they would snatch hold of her at any moment. None moved though. Without looking at any of them she rushed fearfully past toward her first class in the hell she'd been sent to.
She ran all the way.
- - -
DISCLAIMER: None of the X-Men belong to me. If they did, I'd have Kitty wear her hair out more often. All this belongs to WB, Stan Lee, Marvel Comics, whoever you like.
NOTES: Exams are a bitch. If the sectors of economy or how to calculate the circumference of a circle start cropping up in my fics, you'll know I'm starting to crack from studying.
If anyone is interested, the prequel to this fic, a one-shot called Rogue Angel, is up on my profile, as well as my humour fic, Kitty's New Look. Sneer. I ain't shameless at all, am I?
Now, a note about ships that will show up in this fic. I am actually a fan of Rogue's crush on Scott. I am a one-sided Scogue, I guess. I think the whole thing about it is quite sweet and tragic, really, and great fodder for my fic. But I am actually one of the biggest Romy fans you'll ever meet. I know it'll probably take years to reach that point in my fic, but I cannot WAIT to introduce Remy and get some real Romy flirting action happening. You know, my interpretations of all the best Romy scenes in the show. Yay! But I suppose a lot of this fic is going to be- shudder- one-sided Scogue.
... Great, I can see the Romys, my brethren, screaming and running for the hills. But I must point out something to you- just because Rogue has a crush on Scott doesn't mean she has to think he's bigger than Jesus or something. She will have a crush on him, yes. However, I am still going to take the piss out of Mr Stick-Up-the-Arse Tucks-His-Pyjama-Shirt-Into-His-Pyjama-Pants Scott Summers. I like him OK. But it's really rather impossible to pass up the opportunity for a little bit of fun at his expense. He practically begs for it, bless him. I mean- heh, heh, "Your judgement was pretty lame!"
Thank you so much to the nice people who have reviewed so far. Star-of-Chaos, ishandahalf, giggleboxsam and enchantedlight, you guys absolutely ROCK. (And yeah, ishandahalf, Mystique is rather the uber-bitch, eh?)
SONGS:
The Nobodies by Marilyn Manson (Reminds me of the Brotherhood at times, and basically all mutant outcasts. Expect it again.)
"I like to conduct business meetings comfortably," Darkholme said, nodding.
"Business meetings? Uh, right. So, where are all the stiffs in suits, Principal Darkholme?"
Without warning, Darkholme morphed into Mystique. Rogue froze and looked in terror at the driver. Mystique smiled. "It's all right, Rogue. Nobody can see us. And he knows I'm a mutant. He knows, Rogue."
"Does he know what Ah am?" asked Rogue, frowning. She didn't exactly want it spread around town.
"He doesn't know, nor does he care. He's paid not to care."
"Fulfillin' job," quipped Rogue.
Mystique looked as though she was trying not to smile. "Are you jetlagged at all, Rogue?"
Rogue waved a hand to indicate that she was undecided. "A bit. Ah've never flown on an airplane before."
Mystique's eyebrows lifted the slightest fraction. "Really?"
"Well, yeah."
"All right." There was something weird about the tone of her voice. "Just lie back then, Rogue. We'll be at the Brotherhood headquarters soon."
"Thanks." Rogue leaned her head back.
"You start school tomorrow. All the things you'll need for school are waiting for you back at the house. Do you feel you need to call Irene when you get home?"
Rogue looked at Mystique and nodded. "Yes, please."
"You'll be allowed to call her once a week, although as this is your first week in Bayville and you've never lived away from home before I suppose I can turn a blind eye to you calling her more than once. But only for the first week. Does that sound fair to you?"
Shrugging, Rogue answered, "Sure."
"You do know that you're expected to make your own meals and do your own laundry?"
Rogue looked at her incredulously. "Do you think Ah'm a kid or something? Of course Ah knew that."
Mystique looked down at her hands and then at Rogue. "You travelled very light for a teenage girl, Rogue. That's promising. You know what's important."
"Ah would have only brought one bag, but Ah couldn't leave mah guitar and it needs its own case, so whatever."
"I didn't know you were musical." Mystique did not sound thrilled about this.
"Ah'm not, really. Ah'm teachin' mahself to play. Ah-" (she hesitated) "- Ah like to write songs. Just bits of songs."
"Really." Mystique looked as though she was trying not to appear interested. "So... what else are you interested in?"
Rogue found it hard to believe someone like Mystique could want to be informed of her hobbies. "Um. Ah like to write songs. Ah can sing a bit, but Ah don't like that to get out. Ah like martial arts, Ah went to classes until last year. Ah like music and clothes, sort of. Ah read too."
"What do you like to read?"
"Well- most people think this is kinda weird, but Ah really love vampire novels. Ah'm totally obsessed. Ah've read every Anne Rice book I could get mah hands on. Ah've read Christopher Pike too; he did this good series. But mah favourite book of all time is Dracula, by Bram Stoker. Ah adore vampire novels."
Mystique let herself smile. "I knew you would."
Rogue tried not to feel offended that Mystique thought she'd like vampire novels just because she dressed like a goth. It wasn't like she knew Rogue or anything. Grudgingly, she went on, "Ah read some thrillers too, and other horror stories. But most of all Ah like mah vampire books. There's just somethin' about them that really gets to me. But usually when Ah tell people how much Ah like 'em they go all awkward and think it's some kinda freaky sexual thing-" She stopped and blushed as Mystique laughed.
"Go on," said Mystique, smiling. The smile was disconcerting because you could see her pointed canine teeth, but it was genuine.
Rogue looked embarrassed. "Still, Ah- Ah guess Ah have a foolproof reason for likin' 'em now, don't Ah? Ah mean, Ah am a literal vampire mahself."
"Those are some good, well-rounded interests, Rogue. I'm an educator, after all, I should know about teenagers and good, well-rounded interests," smirked Darkholme.
"Is there anyone else at these headquarters?" asked Rogue.
"Two boys already live there. Todd Tolensky and Lance Alvers. They're both about your age. I'm trying to recruit a mutant boy who shows off his powers for money... in a ring." She looked deeply scornful. "Like a trained animal. God."
"Yeah," said Rogue softly, feeling a powerful surge of admiration for the woman. She must really care about mutants havin' dignity and stuff.
"Bayville isn't a hard town to get your head around, Rogue. A couple of weeks and you'll have found out basically everything you need to know about it. There aren't many ways to get into trouble in Bayville." Mystique smirked, as though she thought she had wrecked Rogue's fun and liked that idea.
Rogue folded her arms. "Ya don't need to worry about me. Ah don't get out much. At least, not in the way you think."
Mystique clapped her hands. "Excellent. You are going to be a great addition to our cause, Rogue."
Rogue frowned and then, for some reason, twitched rather audibly. She got a glazed look in her eye.
"... Rogue?" she heard Mystique say from what seemed to be very far away. "Is there something wrong?"
A tall figure was holding a punchbag still for her after she'd been hitting it for a few minutes. "Good. Now, do it again. Try and hit the same mark."
She blew some sweaty strands of hair out of her face angrily. "Not try and hit the same mark. Ah did hit the same friggin' mark. This sucks, Ah got how to do this exercise long ago and you're still makin' me do it and Ah don't even understand why."
The figure smirked. "Consider it revision of tactics, Rogue."
"Ah want to take a break."
The figure shook its head, sneering maddeningly. "It's not time for your break yet, Rogue. You can still get in a good twenty minutes."
"Ah want a drink of water, then."
"Your drink bottle's right there," the figure said, pointing at a plastic bottle sitting on the floor a short way away. "But don't drink too much water, you'll get sluggish."
She was flushing with frustration. "Ah hate this!" She pulled off her boxing gloves and threw them on the ground with a shriek of rage. "Now let me take a break!"
Before she had time to blink she felt a hand at her throat. The figure walked her briskly backwards until she backed up into a wall. It was a big room; it took her a fair few seconds to hit the wall. The room was also underground, it was lit by blazing fluorescent lights in the ceiling. The figure held her tightly by her neck. She stared up in shock.
"You will do what I tell you," said the figure smoothly. "You are learning this so you can become an active member of our cause. If I wasn't so patient a teacher I might break your neck. You know I can do that, Rogue. You know I would, if you weren't who you are."
As much as the death-grip on her throat would allow, Rogue nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good." The figure released her and then walked her over to where she had been standing before. "Put on your gloves now, Rogue."
"Y-Yes ma'am," Rogue said rather shrilly, picking up the gloves and jamming her hands into them hastily.
The figure gave her skinny shoulders a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. Then the figure walked, as though she had all the time in the world, to the punching bag. She held it steady. "Rogue, dearie. Hit the mark again, now."
Shakily, Rogue held up her fists.
"That's right," crooned the figure. "Hold up your fists, just like that. Good girl." She paused. "Do you need to catch your breath?"
"That never stopped me before." Rogue did exactly what she was told and started hitting the mark.
"... Rogue!"
Rogue jumped. "Uh, what?"
"You went blank, dear."
"Guess Ah am jetlagged, then," said Rogue.
"Hmm. Did you not sleep on the plane at all?"
"Not a wink."
"Lie back. You'll be at your new home soon."
Rogue smiled slightly. "Mah new home..." She liked the sound of that.
"That's right."
Rogue actually did succeed in falling half-asleep, but jolted awake as the limo came to a stop. "Are we there yet?" she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes.
"Yes. Come on, come and see it." Sunlight poured into the backseat of the limo as the driver opened the door.
"Thanks, Jeeves," muttered Rogue as she climbed out of the car, and she grinned rather wickedly. For some reason she stopped smiling as Mystique (who had shifted back into her Darkholme form) gave her a sharp look.
"Rogue..." she said warningly.
"Sorry, ma'am," Rogue blurted, lowering her gaze. She frowned as she hauled her bags out of the trunk of the limo. Since when did she call people 'ma'am'? Rogue was by turns polite for her age and a right little sarcastic bleeder, but... ma'am? Where had that come from?
It was only when she straightened up, loaded down with her luggage, that she got a good look at the Brotherhood of Bayville Boarding House. It was big. Big and creepy-looking.
"What do you think?" asked Darkholme. She didn't sound like she expected Rogue to be overly thrilled, but Rogue figured she might as well fake a little enthusiasm.
Rogue bit at her lip. "It's big," she said seriously. Not to mention creepy-lookin'.
"It's daunting at first. It hasn't been lived in for awhile, either." Darkholme wasn't apologising for this. Rogue could tell by her voice. "It's in good repair, though."
Rogue jumped as an explosive crash emanated from within. Darkholme simply thinned her mouth and glowered.
"... Although the other tenants may soon do something to change that. I'll go ahead. You can show yourself in." Darkholme stormed up the front steps, across the porch and through the front door, which Rogue could now see was slightly ajar. She heard a distant yell of, "What have you clods DONE?"
The limo started to drive away. Rogue wondered briefly where it was kept, because she saw no sign of a garage. She watched in silence as it wove its way down the drive and through the dilapidated gates. Over under a tree she could see a car parked- a little way beyond that, a Jeep was chained to a tree.
She showed herself in as Darkholme had suggested. In the front hall was a flight of stairs leading up to the second floor, as well as several doorways leading into a kitchen area and a living room, which was where the yelling was coming from.
Rogue followed the sounds of yelling into the front living room. Darkholme stood there, bellowing at two mutinous-looking boys. Sensing Rogue's presence, she turned around to speak to her. "Ah, Rogue. These are Toad and Avalanche."
Rogue gave them a supremely unimpressed look. "Ah'm Rogue."
The taller boy had brown hair in a mullet hairdo. He folded his arms. "Lance Alvers."
"The name's Todd, yo," said the shorter boy. He was skinny, with a crooked spine that gave him a hunchback. He grinned evilly with yellow, broken teeth.
"Now that we've dispatched preliminaries, Rogue, there are spare rooms upstairs. The bathroom is second on the left. The third door on the right is your room."
"Thanks." Rogue went to leave.
"Hey, is she comin' with us today?" asked Todd.
"No," said Darkholme in a chilly voice.
"What? That ain't fair," whined Toad. "She's our age, ain't she? She's still in high school."
"She is staying here today and that is final, Toad."
"But-"
Rogue had been leaving the room, but stopped as she heard something like a lion's roar erupt from the living room. "What the f-" she gasped, rushing back to the doorway. Darkholme was standing with folded arms, glaring at the boys. Toad was gibbering with fright, and Avalanche had gone pale.
Rogue shook her head and went up the stairs. Weird, she thought.
The room that was hers was an OK size. Rogue piled her bags at the end of her bed and lay down. She drifted off to sleep.
That day was decidedly boring. It shouldn't have been. Rogue was well used to being alone, and the boarding house was a good place to explore. Rogue took a long shower (which was agony- something about the shower nozzle thing caused each the water to sear into her back like tiny drills), washed her hair, unpacked her things and looked through her new schoolthings, which were inside her room. She thought it might have been a lack of company, but when the boys came home from school she locked herself up in her room, and didn't come down even when they yelled they'd got pizza.
The next morning she was up at five AM, fully dressed by five-thirty. She had to wait ages for the boys, who just messed around watching cartoons and eating endless cereal. She got a little agitated and went to Mystique, who had shifted into her Darkholme form and was about to leave for work.
"Mystique, Ah'm gonna be late on mah first day. Can't ya do something?" She expected Mystique to tell her to do her own griping, or offer to write her a note, or something. However, Darkholme simply nodded.
"Very well. I'll give you a lift."
That was how Rogue found herself sitting in the front passenger seat of Principal Darkholme's car. She watched the trees and manicured lawns of the suburbs wash past the car windows, and finally asked, "Are we almost there?"
"Yes."
"OK, ya can let me out here."
Darkholme raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
"Ah can't turn up at school on mah first day in the principal's car. They'll eat me alive."
"You should have thought of that before you accepted my offer to give you a ride to school. Besides, there's only a few blocks to go."
"A few blocks in which direction?"
Darkholme gave her an appraising look. "East." With an eye-roll, she pulled over to the side of the road. "There'll probably be a lot of students walking to the school, and anyway, you can't miss it."
"'Preciate it." Rogue climbed out onto the sidewalk, shouldering her backpack. She leaned over to say this to Darkholme through the open front passenger window.
"I understand how important it is to people your age to be popular, Rogue." Darkholme looked very scathing.
Rogue looked disbelieving. "Please. You think Ah actually go in for that crap? Ah'm wicked bad and Ah want everyone to stay away from me, and Ah wanna start by not showin' up in the principal's car, OK? Ya clear?"
"Crystal," said Darkholme, looking much less scathing. They parted ways there.
As Rogue walked to school her heart became heavy. She felt the same way she had on her first day at Berridge High, more so as she walked in and saw with one glance that nobody was like her. Her head became lowered as she found the front office. The secretary even looked perky, and yet she felt so apprehensive all of a sudden that even that didn't sway her.
"Hi, I'm Dorothy. May I help you?" asked Dorothy the Perky Secretary.
"Yeah. Ah- Ah'm Rogue Adler. Ah'm here to pick up mah schedule and stuff."
Dorothy studied something. "Oh, yes. Rogue Adler. Principal Darkholme asks that you see her in her office before school."
"OK."
Dorothy smiled kindly, in the vapid way of someone with no predicaments such as Rogue's in their life. "Don't worry, the first day is always a little scary."
Rogue resented being spoken to as if she were half her present age. However, she muttered, "Sure." and went into the principal's office.
Darkholme sat behind her desk, looking through some papers. Without looking up, she said, "I see you made it to school without being abducted, Rogue." She looked up and smirked. "What do you think so far?"
"Ah've only been here for about ten minutes."
"Indulge me. And please, sit down."
Rogue sat, searching for something to say. "Secretary's a piece of work, ain't she?" She managed to smile for about half a second, then averted her gaze. "Uh- y'don't have a dress code or somethin' here, do ya? 'Cause everyone stared at me in the halls like Ah had two heads."
"People stare at what they don't understand, dear. You, Rogue, are an enigma."
Rogue suspected this was a compliment. She mumbled something and hunched over just that little bit more in her seat.
Darkholme was sitting on her desk now. She swung her legs slightly. "Stop into the office for your schedule, I'm afraid I don't have it here."
Rogue nodded mutely.
Darkholme heaved a great sigh as if this endeavour was taking everything out of her, smiled in her thin way, folded her hands and said, "Welcome to Bayville High. I'm sure you'll be very happy here. Happy and safe."
Rogue stiffened. Happy, safe. Together, those words were alien to her. Her shoulder and rib began to ache just thinking about all she'd endured. "Sure. Thank you." She got up and left.
From the pocket of her skirt she extracted the communicator that Jean Grey had given her. She stared at it, barely remembering how she'd got it. Rogue wondered how great its range was and where the giver, Jean Grey, was now.
She picked up her schedule from the front office and looked closely at it. The classes she could stand- French, English- intermixed with the ones she hated- European History and Geometry. Rogue knew that was probably some kind of clever metaphor for her life, but she couldn't be bothered to think of it now.
And in the hallways, whose population of scurrying students greatly diminished as they disappeared into their classes, Rogue stepped into the shadows, figuring they'd let her be late on her first day, and fiddled with the communicator.
A squawk of static erupted from it, making her jump. She had the weirdest feeling that she was not alone.
Slowly, dreading what she would see, the sound of static somehow growing louder and louder until it threatened to drown her, Rogue raised her face to gaze upon four teenagers who had stopped in the hallway upon recognising her.
Two boys, two girls. An astonished-looking youth her age, with longish dark hair and the kind of skin she would have expected of a European- pale, though not so much as hers. A brown-haired senior wearing blood-red shades that masked his eyes. A tall, elegant sort of girl with red hair and a petite freshman girl with her brunette hair tied in a ponytail.
The X-Men.
Rogue couldn't breathe. They couldn't have come this far, waited this long to get her!
But... no. They attended Bayville High too. Rogue remembered now, from Kurt's memories. She knew there was a reason why it had looked so familiar when she'd seen it the first time...
Safe! Safe HERE? What had Darkholme been thinking? Hadn't Irene told her? Hadn't anyone checked-?
The X-Men stared at the rogue in plain confusion, and she stared back in great fear. In one smooth movement she lifted a hand and dropped the communicator into the nearest trash bin. Every second was eternal. It felt like she was a character in a film moving in slow motion and they would snatch hold of her at any moment. None moved though. Without looking at any of them she rushed fearfully past toward her first class in the hell she'd been sent to.
She ran all the way.
- - -
DISCLAIMER: None of the X-Men belong to me. If they did, I'd have Kitty wear her hair out more often. All this belongs to WB, Stan Lee, Marvel Comics, whoever you like.
NOTES: Exams are a bitch. If the sectors of economy or how to calculate the circumference of a circle start cropping up in my fics, you'll know I'm starting to crack from studying.
If anyone is interested, the prequel to this fic, a one-shot called Rogue Angel, is up on my profile, as well as my humour fic, Kitty's New Look. Sneer. I ain't shameless at all, am I?
Now, a note about ships that will show up in this fic. I am actually a fan of Rogue's crush on Scott. I am a one-sided Scogue, I guess. I think the whole thing about it is quite sweet and tragic, really, and great fodder for my fic. But I am actually one of the biggest Romy fans you'll ever meet. I know it'll probably take years to reach that point in my fic, but I cannot WAIT to introduce Remy and get some real Romy flirting action happening. You know, my interpretations of all the best Romy scenes in the show. Yay! But I suppose a lot of this fic is going to be- shudder- one-sided Scogue.
... Great, I can see the Romys, my brethren, screaming and running for the hills. But I must point out something to you- just because Rogue has a crush on Scott doesn't mean she has to think he's bigger than Jesus or something. She will have a crush on him, yes. However, I am still going to take the piss out of Mr Stick-Up-the-Arse Tucks-His-Pyjama-Shirt-Into-His-Pyjama-Pants Scott Summers. I like him OK. But it's really rather impossible to pass up the opportunity for a little bit of fun at his expense. He practically begs for it, bless him. I mean- heh, heh, "Your judgement was pretty lame!"
Thank you so much to the nice people who have reviewed so far. Star-of-Chaos, ishandahalf, giggleboxsam and enchantedlight, you guys absolutely ROCK. (And yeah, ishandahalf, Mystique is rather the uber-bitch, eh?)
SONGS:
The Nobodies by Marilyn Manson (Reminds me of the Brotherhood at times, and basically all mutant outcasts. Expect it again.)