The only word to describe Rogue at the moment she had obliterated Kurt Wagner off the face of the earth (or the school, at least) was numb. The only thing she could really remember thinking later on was about getting rid of the murder weapon.
She felt like she blacked out. One moment she was staring vainly at the glittery residue hanging in the space where Wagner had stood moments before, the next she was bearing the device (dangling off a stick) to a dumpster. Rogue held it at arm's length and for the first time in what must have been ten minutes a coherent thought flitted through her brain.
Ah wonder if how this is all killers get started? she thought as she weaved through the uncut grass, and grimaced. No. No, she wasn't a killer! It was an accident, Ah didn't mean- it was- Ah killed a guy, oh God...
She dimly registered a person standing in front of her. It was Todd. A short surge of terror and guilt made her hastily pitch the device at the dumpster, but it fell short and clattered to the ground. Rogue cowered, praying to any deities that hadn't condemned her to whatever pit of Hell their religion was responsible for that it wouldn't go off and swallow her up too.
"Ooh, what's this?" Todd asked curiously. He went to pick it up and Rogue gasped.
"Don't touch it!" she cried out, fighting an urge to shove him backwards.
Todd raised his eyebrows. It made him look buffoonish rather than intimidating. "Why not?"
"It's- never you mind. Just... leave it alone." Rogue was shaking. She felt light-headed and sick with fear. Ah need to sit down.
The toadish teenager sneered, "Aw, whatsamatter? Little Rogue get into some trouble?"
At that moment, Rogue seriously considered adding another victim to her hitlist. But there was nothing like being taunted by another Brotherhood member to bring her sharply back to earth. Pull yourself together, girl, she thought as she picked up the device and dropped it briskly into the dumpster. A foul, steaming cloud stinking of garbage seemed to rise up and cling to her face, her clothes. She felt dirty and disgusting, but Rogue forced herself to keep cool.
"Trouble? No!" she scoffed. "There's just one less X-Man to push us around." Briskly, Rogue dusted off her hands.
Todd gaped. "Say what? You mean you toasted one of them goody-goods with that thing? Wicked."
Don't let him get any bright ideas, she pleaded silently. Outwardly, she got in Todd's face and snarled, "Hey, just leave it alone! Ya got it, swamp breath?" She turned on her heel and stormed away
She ran after that. Rogue didn't know why. It wasn't as if anyone knew Wagner was gone yet. It wasn't as if Rogue was going to get caught. Nobody would ever know, as long as she didn't blab. Or Todd didn't.
Maybe that was why she felt so sick with shame and fear.
As she picked up her copy of Dracula and walked (somewhat shakily) back toward the school buildings, she tried to rationalise the situation. Technically, Ah haven't- well, it wasn't mah fault Wagner got in the way of the machine. If he'd been smarter he would've handed it over to me. Ah haven't killed anybody.
Rogue spent the remaining fifteen minutes of lunchtime inside the girls' bathroom, and she was so wrapped up in her thoughts she nearly jumped out of her skin when the bell rang. She bit at her lip when she went to exit the bathroom, then experienced a powerful wave of nausea and spent the next few minutes retching into one of the toilets. She didn't throw up because she hadn't eaten anything much that day, but she felt like she was made of tissue paper. Her mouth tasted awful and her skin had gone a delicate shade of green.
She moaned and sat shaking on the floor of the stall, until she was aware of someone standing outside the door.
"Piss off, Ah'm in here. All the other stalls are free," yelled Rogue in something like her normal voice.
"Are you OK?" asked the girl on the other side of the door.
"Duh. Now, get lost!"
"No, come on out here. If you're sick I can take you to the nurse."
"Ah'm not goin' to the nurse. Piss off."
The girl hesitated. "Please come out. Just so I can see you're OK."
After a decades-long pause, Rogue unlocked the door, got to her feet and stepped out, looking the other girl defiantly in the face. "See? Ah'm fine. Can you please go away?"
The girl beamed. "Sweetie, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
Rogue seriously objected to being called sweetie by anyone, particularly someone her own age. She just mumbled something and went to the sinks, bracing herself on them.
The girl followed her. "Do you want some more help?"
Rogue recognised her. It was the girl from the Ditz's entourage who had to stand at the side as a punishment for having a vocabulary beyond that of a seven-year-old child. "Is this what do you do all day? Traipse around helpin' people?" she asked witheringly.
The girl shrugged, embarrassed. "If you don't want the nurse, that's OK. But I'll walk you to your next class."
"Uggggh..." moaned Rogue, not looking at her.
"Throwing up's really awful, isn't it? Especially at school," the girl said sympathetically. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the nurse?"
"You remind me of someone," Rogue said, trying to shut her up.
The girl grinned. "Yeah, everyone says that. You know Principal Darkholme's secretary, Dorothy? She's my big sister."
Rogue almost managed to smirk. "... That explains so much."
"My name is Katy. What's yours?"
"Rogue." Although in the near future you may know me by the number on the back of my fetchin' orange jumpsuit, Rogue thought, and cringed.
"Wow, that's a really unusual name. It's so much cooler than Dorothy or Katy. When Dorothy was in school, everyone used to make jokes about Toto or Auntie Em when they saw her coming. It really didn't help that our parents are from Kansas." Rogue picked apart her words for some trace of sarcasm, and found none.
"Great," was all Rogue could manage. She peeled off her gloves and ran water into her cupped hands. She splashed her face and froze with water dripping off her. Yeah, really great. As if enough hasn't happened, all mah makeup is runnin'.
"Um, Rogue?"
"What?"
"You... weren't throwing up 'cause... you didn't make yourself throw up, did you? Because you really don't need to lose any weight, Rogue. Really." Katy-the-younger-sister-of-Dorothy-the-Perky-Secretary's eyes were round and earnest.
"Gimme a break!" cried Rogue. Reminding herself that Katy-the-younger-sister-of-Dorothy-the-Perky-Secretary was only trying to help, she said, "Ah just felt sick, that's all. Didn't even throw up, 'cause Ah haven't eaten anything much today."
Katy the- aw, screw it. Katy raised her eyebrows a fraction, and Rogue felt like hitting her head on the sinks. Now, why'd Ah have to say it that way? Now the Good Samaritan of Bayville High thinks Ah have an eatin' disorder. This is really a case of open mouth, insert foot.
"Bye," mumbled Rogue, and she walked out the door of the bathroom only to hear Katy follow. "Uh, why are ya still here?"
"I said I'd walk you to your next class."
"Look, it's real nice of you an' all, Katy, but Ah'm feelin' a whole lot better now so you can just run along, 'K? 'Sides, Ah have to- go to my locker."
"I have loads of time. I can go with you."
"But Ah'm fine." Rogue clenched her fists.
She walked as briskly as her weak legs would take her for a few hallways, trying to lose Katy. Finally, she realised the obvious thing to do.
"Oh mah God, look! Someone in peril!"
"Huh?" asked Katy, looking around frantically. "Where? I don't see anybody."
"They went that way!" Rogue said impatiently, pointing back down the hallway. "A girl. With brown hair. Ah think she was cryin'."
"I'd better go help," said Katy without so much as a hint of weariness or exasperation. She sounded determined. Future job for Katy: social worker, Rogue thought with faint amusement. She pasted a look of innocence on her face as Katy turned back to her. "Will you be all right, Rogue?" Katy asked.
"Sure, sure, Ah feel much better already. Now go on, or she'll get away!"
"OK. Hope you feel better soon, Rogue. Come and find me if you- well, whatever you need. Bye!" Katy sped off in the direction of the nonexistent girl in trouble.
Rogue watched her go. Sweet girl. Kinda gullible, but sweet.
Feeling less ill at ease, Rogue darted into the shadow of some lockers when she saw the flash of red that was one's first peripheral glance of Jean Grey. Don't be an idiot, she scolded herself. They probably haven't even noticed their guy disappeared yet.
Rogue's guts turned to ice as she heard Summers say matter-of-factly to Grey, "... You'd better contact him. Tell him to knock it off!"
The girl must be able to read minds into the bargain. Some people get everything, Rogue thought sourly. Then she blanched. Jean Grey must be... scanning, or something, to find Kurt Wagner.
Ah didn't kill anybody. Technically, Ah didn't hurt or kill anybody. Ah didn't-
"Hmm," Grey said. "Scott, I can't pick up a trace of Kurt anywhere. It's like he doesn't exist."
Rogue felt like her own death had just been sentenced. Oh, Christ. It's true. Ah killed the poor blue freak. Ah killed him.
Scott said, "Try again. He's gotta be somewhere."
"I am. I'm not getting anything. He's just completely gone."
Shut up, shut up, shut up! Rogue thought wretchedly.
"Or.. somebody did somethin' to him," said Summers shrewdly. Rogue almost expected him to peer around the lockers, cry out, 'Aha!' and beat the shit out of her.
But no... Rogue heard him pacing away. When she tentatively peeked around the edge of the lockers she spotted Summers talking with Lance and Fred.
"Where's Kurt?" asked Summers angrily.
Fred sneered. "Heh. Yeah, like we'd tell you." Fred crosses his arms and Lance leans on him and the both of them gave their evil Brotherhood sneers a real workout.
Scott Summers flung himself at them in a rage, and Rogue felt like hitting her head against something again. Particularly when Grey squealed, "Scott, no!"
Wonderful. Now Summers is beatin' on Lance. Ah've gotta stay cool. Lance is a big boy, he can handle himself. Ah'll just go to mah locker and apply some makeup like nothin' outta the ordinary is goin' on.
Rogue kept her eyes carefully averted from the escalating tension at the other end of the hallway. Summers had Lance up against some more lockers. "I said, where is he?" bellowed Summers.
Future career for Summers: interrogator of terrorists, Rogue thought, wincing.
Lance yelled, "Get offa me!" Rogue could practically hear the sounds of ribs cracking. Wonder why Lance hasn't thrown Summers off? Summers must be really strong, mused Rogue, reapplying lipstick using the little mirror she'd stuck inside her locker for that express purpose. She felt like writing MURDERER in capitals on her forehead with purple lipstick. Ah deserve it, she thought bitterly.
"What have you done with Kurt?" Summers was saying roughly.
Fred lifted Summers up into the air by the collar. "Get lost, slim!"
Grey looked all protective. "Put him down!"
She's got guts, gettin' in his face after he kidnapped her an' all, Rogue thought grudgingly, and replaced the top on her tube of lipstick.
Lance got into Jean's face. "Back off, Red, or I'll rock ya."
Oh, he- no. He wouldn't. He's not that stupid!
The lockers started to shake. Rogue watched in dismay as the things inside her own locker began to quake and jump about.
Ah stand corrected, she thought dryly. Knowing Lance's tendency to go ever-so-slightly overboard when it came to his powers, Rogue braced herself on her locker.
"Fight, fight, fight!" chanted random kids as the X-Men and Brotherhood members seemed ready to kill each other. Rogue wondered how the hell the bystanders didn't even notice the fact that trash up on top of the lockers had begun to fall off.
Anyone who's listenin'- just send some help, pleaded Rogue silently. It was all so silly, so average, so uncertain and yet it seemed to the unnaturally stressed girl like her life had transformed into some terrible nightmare in the last hour or so.
"What is going on here?" roared the voice of Principal Darkholme.
Huh. Close enough, Ah guess, Rogue thought, standing with her back to everyone and her heart beating a tune against her ribs.
The other kids scattered as the tremors abruptly stopped. None of them were keen to get linked with the fight.
Fred (still clutching Summers by the collar), said indignantly, "We weren't doin' nothin'!"
Lance nodded emphatically. "Yeah! Summers here just went ballistic on us for no reason!"
Smirking, Fred saw fit to put Summers down at last. Summers ran a hand through his hair and said angrily, "Oh, I've got a reason!"
He looked like he was about to start pounding Lance again, and Grey snatched a firm hold of his arm. "Scott..." she said warningly.
Principal Darkholme looked faintly amused and pissed off at the same time. "Quiet! You two- in my office, now."
Sticking their chins out obstinately, Grey and Summers began to follow Darkholme away. Lance gave them an L-for-loser signal and sniggered.
Darkholme and the two X-Men continued along the hall, past Rogue's locker. Stop lookin' so suspicious, she scolded herself. Nobody knows what happened with Wagner 'cept you. And Todd, but Ah'm gonna find him and make sure he ain't tellin'. She glared at Summers and Grey.
Rogue finished applying her makeup and with every appearance of someone calm and collected, she neatened up her locker a little before closing and locking it.
OK. Now, what should Ah do? Ah've gotta keep mah cool. Rogue needed help, and there was only one place she knew to get it. She began to walk, briskly as she could without breaking into a run, toward Principal Darkholme's office.
Dorothy the Perky Secretary was doing some typing as Rogue slunk into the waiting area.
"Um... Dorothy?" said Rogue hesitantly, bracing herself for the perkiness to come.
Dorothy beamed up at her. "Hello, hon. May I help you?" enquired Dorothy.
Rogue fidgeted. "Uh. Yeah. Well. Ah need to make an appointment with- um..."
There was a small crash as the door of the principal's office swung open and Darkholme charged out. She roared, "Dorothy!"
Dorothy flinched. Looks like she's kinda scared of Darkholme. She's smarter than she looks, then. "Yes, Miss Darkholme?" she asked weakly.
"Dorothy, someone has removed all my furniture from my office since last I was in it. Do you have an explanation for me?"
"I'm afraid not," mollified Dorothy the Perky Secretary. "Nobody came and removed your furniture, not while I was here. Are you sure it wasn't removed before I started my shift this morning?"
"The furniture was not intended to be removed," said Darkholme in a low, dangerous voice.
"Maybe it was repossessed," volunteered Rogue, snickering. In the face of everything that had happened, she needed a laugh.
"Yes, maybe it was-" echoed Dorothy.
"Are you suggesting my furniture was not paid for in full?" boomed Darkholme. Dorothy looked mortified.
"N-N-N-Noooo," whispered Dorothy, scooting backwards on her office chair and looking longingly at the nearest window as if she intended to jump out of it.
Darkholme growled and stomped away. Rogue sneered. "Thanks, Dorothy. That's all Ah needed." Rogue rushed after Principal Darkholme.
"Principal Darkholme!" she called vainly, struggling to keep up as Darkholme went out into the hall, dialling her phone.
"Aren't you meant to be in class, Rogue?" asked Darkholme waspishly. "Run along, I have to find out where my furniture went."
"But Miss Darkholme-"
"Run along, Rogue."
Rogue grabbed the principal's arm, desperate. "Mystique, please," she begged.
Darkholme froze and wrenched Rogue's hands roughly from her arm. "I have told the boys repeatedly not to call me that on school grounds. I wouldn't have expected it of you, Rogue."
Waving a gloved hand dismissively, Rogue snapped, "Well, Ah wouldn't say it unless Ah needed ya to listen. Now, there's been an accident."
"I don't suppose it involves my disappeared furniture, does it?" said Darkholme snidely, putting her hands on her hips.
Rogue blinked, having figured out a way to get through to her.
"It might," she said slyly.
Darkholme raised an eyebrow. "You have my full and undivided attention, Rogue."
"Ah went down into the school basement 'cause Ah- heard somethin'. Turned out one of th' X-Men went down there and set off some kinda explosive. The only thing that survived was this little gadget thing. There was a fight and- it went off. And he disappeared."
"Which X-Man?" asked Darkholme in a hushed voice.
"Kurt Wagner," said Rogue promptly.
If Darkholme recognised the name, she didn't show it. "So you believe the Wagner boy has been- sent somewhere else because of this device?"
Rogue greatly appreciated Darkholme not saying the word killed or murdered. "Exactly."
"Where is this machine now?" Principal Darkholme asked.
"Ah tossed it in a dumpster 'round the back of the school, but Todd was there. Ah think he might have gotten hold of it and-"
"That would explain my missing furniture," mused Darkholme. She drew something out of her pocket and motioned for Rogue to turn around. Placing a slip of paper against Rogue's back, she scribbled something on it and handed it to her.
"What's this?" asked Rogue, studying the paper.
"It's a personal note from the principal and your guardian- seeing as I am both whilst you live at the Brotherhood Boarding House- excusing you from afternoon classes. I want you to investigate the situation at hand, concluding what transpired regarding both the Wagner boy and my furniture. When school lets out, the other boys and myself will join the search."
"In layman's terms?"
"Find the device and Todd." Darkholme turned sharply and began to walk away.
"'Course, ma'am," Rogue said solemnly. "Uh, ma'am?" she called.
Darkholme turned. "Yes?"
"What's- gonna happen to me? If Wagner doesn't come back, Ah mean..."
Darkholme gave her own approximation. "I'm sure it was no more your fault he disappeared than it was mine, or Dorothy's, or the current president's," she said matter-of-factly. "We'll sort it out, Rogue, don't worry. Now, go on."
Rogue managed to smile. "Thank you, Principal Darkholme," Rogue called as she left. She felt a little better, now that she had some control over the situation. It didn't make her any less of a murderer, but-
Don't think about that, she ordered herself as she shivered. She had to be on task.
Now, to find Todd...
- - -
DISCLAIMER: X-Men: Evolution doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, the WB, whoever you like. If it were mine, I'd have had more airtime of Rogue's time with the Brotherhood.
NOTES: Yeah, I know in the bit where Rogue is in the hallway with the Brotherhood, Jean and Scott she's fully made up as per usual, but that's just the way this turned out.
You know how everyone always calls Mystique a psycho bitch? Well, a friend and I were in a shop in the town where I live that sells t-shirts, stickers and caps with vulgar messages. I was looking at the women's shirts rack when I saw a shirt with Psycho Bitch emblazoned proudly across the front and nearly burst out laughing. Christmas pressie for Mystique! I thought, trying not to giggle.
I promptly made a little mental shopping list of all the t-shirts, and which characters I'd buy 'em for. For Jean: a shirt that says bondage queen. (This is funny if you read It's Good To Be The Rogue by Red Witch). For Wanda: a shirt that says Do I look like a fucking people person? For Rogue: a shirt that says If you think I'm a bitch, you should meet my mother.
Sorry for the huge amounts of typos in the last chapter. I'll fix 'em before I go back to school on Monday.
You think Rogue should throw stuff at the Poser, Terminatrix T-X? Nice idea. I hope you don't mind if I slip it in somewhere. I have the Updated Edition too, I got it for Christmas last year. And my best friend plays the cello.
Thanks for your review, Star-of-Chaos. I'd wondered if you were still reading this, so the two reviews you sent me were a lovely surprise.
Cheers for the gold star, ishandahalf. Where are you from, anyway? Don't give a street address or nothin', just the country would be nice.
I agree, The Craft is awesome, epona04. I rented it when my friends stayed over this weekend, along with The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Birdcage and a tape of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. When we were at the video rental place, the song Stayin' Alive came on the speakers and we started dancing around the place, shrieking with laughter. :) Good times.
Thanks also to enchantedlight and Ivan Alias. I love all of your reviews, they are such a help. I'll try and get the next chapter up soon. On a completely unrelated note, I have a Livejournal at last if anybody's interested, which I doubt anyone is. (Oh, how I love being self-deprecating.) Laters!
SONGS:
The Beautiful People by Marilyn Manson.