Chapter One
Seven years later – 13 April 2009
Two white narrow strips.
A beautiful, unrecognisable face.
A radiant smile that hinted at a life fortunate and full.
A ringing laughter, clear and joyous.
And two white narrow strips.
'Is…is that Rogue?'
Scott didn't move as he felt his girlfriend brush against his side, his gaze fixed on one of two new arrivals at the Institute. 'I don't know.'
'It doesn't look like Rogue.'
'Except for the hair.'
'Yeah. Except for that,' Jean agreed. 'I wonder who that is with-' She broke off as a familiar *bamf* echoed faintly through the foyer, the blue-furred young man appearing beside Professor X.
The visibly excited Kurt launched himself at the young woman without even a word of greeting, wrapping his arms around her neck and hugging her tightly.
A burst of laughter, so filled with delight that it made him yearn to be the one to entice it out of her.
'It sure doesn't sound like Rogue either,' Jean continued wryly.
'She sounds so happy,' he said, mostly to himself.
'We should go and greet them.'
Scott's answer was to turn abruptly and walk away in the opposite direction.
*
07 January 2002
Scott glanced down at his wristwatch, and decided that being a half-minute late for class (if that) was not going to be the end of the world.
'Hey Scott! School is this way!'
'Go ahead without me,' he called back to Kitty, tossing the words over his shoulder as he strode into the elevator that would transport him to the lower levels of the mansion. 'Tell Jean not to worry, I won't be late!'
The younger student frowned at him as he turned. Scott lifted a hand, waving before the elevator door closed and he was descending into the medical centre of the mansion. He hadn't been able to visit the recuperating Rogue since what had happened after the concert, only two days ago.
In the forty-or-so hours since Rogue's "mental breakdown", Scott had been relentless in obtaining hourly updates on her well being from Logan and Hank. They were the only ones whom Rogue approved a visit. He hoped that she had recovered enough to allow him one, and determined that even if she didn't, then he was still going to see her. Scott wanted to let her know how awful he had felt at having attacked her, and that it hadn't been personal. He needed her to know that he was still her friend.
The elevator came to a silent stop, and the doors slid open noiselessly. Scott walked out and turned left towards the sick bay. He stopped before the closed door, but his eyes sought out Rogue's form on the bed closest to him.
Empty.
He frowned. Could she have transferred to her room without him knowing? Maybe she was in the bathroom?
But her bed was made, the sheets straight and smooth. It looked unused and ready for a patient.
'Rogue?' Scott called out, not liking the alarm that had crept into his voice. He cleared his throat, looking around the large room. 'Rogue?' he repeated, louder and clearer.
Scott grew worried. He refused to acknowledge the fear that had begun to form at the bottom of his stomach. He willed himself to stay calm. Nothing had happened to her. She was back in her room, that's all.
Despite his thoughts Scott hurried back to the elevator, forcing himself to keep from running. He kept his mind concentrated on the metallic door before him, focusing on the shininess of it. It was bright, and shiny. And he knew it was silver, but to him it was red. Like everything else in his life, red.
Like the colour of blood.
Scott waited impatiently for the doors to open, then rushed out into the second floor hallway, turning left and towards the girls' rooms. Second door on the left, Kitty and Rogue's room. The door was ajar, and he placed a hand against the wood. It felt smooth beneath his touch.
'Rogue, I'm coming in,' he said loudly, hoping his voice sounded light. 'No need to get dressed for my benefit.'
No answer. Scott pushed the door wider, stepping into the room. Kitty's bed, hurriedly and messily made. Rogue's bed, neat, neat as can be.
Empty.
'Rogue?' His voice had a shaky quality to it that magnified the fearful feeling he tried so hard to contain.
Nothing but heavy stillness.
'Come on, Rogue, this isn't funny anymore!' Scott shouted angrily, striding further into the room.
Not even an echo.
His feet took him to the closed panels of the wardrobe, unsure of why it was he came to stand before it. Surely she hadn't… She wouldn't!
Would she?
Scott forced his arms to move, his hands to reach out and his fingers to curl around the timber handle. Still smooth. He fancied that the warmth of the wood was because of Rogue's recent touch and not because of the temperate atmosphere of spring.
Fingers tightening painfully, he pulled.
Empty.
*
13 April 2009
Jean watched Scott's retreating back, troubled. She had thought that he would be ecstatic to have "the prodigal daughter" return, yet he acted as if Rogue's homecoming was nothing more than any other arrival. Even she knew that it wasn't. This was different. And that was what made Scott's reaction so disconcerting.
As she took a step to follow him, Jean heard her name being called. She turned and was surprised to see that the very people she had been watching earlier were now watching her. She forced Scott from her mind for the moment, and smiling, strode forward.
'Jean, look, it's Rogue!' Kurt said enthusiastically as she drew closer. His eagerness strongly reminded her of the young, irrepressibly cheerful fifteen-year-old Kurt who had first joined the X-Men all those years ago.
Jean looked at the striking young woman, and smiled. Up close, the changes were even more remarkable. Very little make up, if any. White slacks and a light pink top. Bare arms.
'Hello, Rogue.'
The woman's smile grew wider. 'Jean, you look wonderful,' she said.
And to Jean's amazement, Rogue stepped forward and hugged her. Caught off guard, she slowly lifted her own arms and awkwardly patted Rogue on the back. It wasn't until the other woman had pulled away did Jean realise that Rogue had touched her.
Skin on skin.