She gazes up at the green silk canopy hovering over her bed as it lifts and drops gently with the breeze slipping in from the open window. It makes her think of drapes billowing around Jean Grey as she sleeps, defenseless, vulnerable…
But I wasn't asleep… I wasn't in my body — I was communicating with Charles-
How is ole' cueball, Jeannie? M'I ever gon' get de chance t'meet de man?
Wait, Xavier's gone? Rogue, you gotta tell Mystique-
Shut up, Pyro.
Youshut up Miss I'm-too-good-for-a-codename!
Why don' you all shut up b'fore chere here tries t'off herself a'gin.
She frowns at the canopy.
"Ah did not try t'kill mahself - Ah was jus' tryin' ta get ya'll ta stop-"
Well y'scared de ghosts pretty good — dey haven' said nuthin' since.
"Ghosts?"
Yeah, y'know the old guy and the kid…
Don't think about them right now. You need to relax, Rogue. Take deep breaths, center yourself-
Ommm…
Shut up, Pyro!
Youshut up ya hick!
M'from N'awlins, can' be no hick if I from de city, non?
Oh my God would you both just stop? Rogue, you need to get in here and take care of this-
"Ah've been lyin' here f'half an hour tryin' t'get in! You try an focus with these yahoos yammerin' in y'head!"
Rogue, I'm a telepath — it's what I do best. And it's why you absorbed me. Use my power to block them out enough to get in. Once you're here you can take care of them for good…
She closes her eyes tight, concentrates.
Wait, what does she mean 'take care of us'?
What she mean 'f'good?'
Quiet!
"Nuthin's happenin'…"
She can't really get rid of us can she?
Okay, I'm going to try something Rogue, just let me…
What happens to us if she gets rid of us?
Hey… what's Jeannie doin'…
Hey! Hey, Red, stop it! Whatever she's gonna do to us she's gonna do to you t-
"Ah'm tellin' ya it ain' worki-"
She opens her eyes and she's back in the bedroom she had with the Bennetts. It's empty like the last time except for Jean who sits on the rocker with the tips of her fingers lightly touching her temples. She opens her eyes and smiles when she sees her.
"What did ya do?"
"I fed you my power — I guess you can't access it on your own for very long after the initial contact…
Anyway, we got rid of them long enough for you to finish this, but you have to do it now before they come at you again."
"Why can't you jus' do it for me?"
"Because this is your mind, Rogue. You have the real power here, not me — I'm just a wrench, you're the mechanic — you know how to fix this."
"But what if I don't?"
The redhead sighs impatiently.
"Look, I don't have time for this okay? I'm willing to stay here long enough to help get your mind in order but if Scott wakes up and can't feel me he's going to be really worried."
She frowns at her.
Stay here…? Doesn't she realize…
"Jean…"
"What?"
"…Nothing."
"Alright." She claps her hands together with a determined smile. "You ready to do this?"
"…yeah."
Jean's smile softens. She reaches out to put a supportive hand on her shoulder, her green eyes kind.
"You're going to be fine, Rogue. I'll be right here the whole time. I won't let them hurt you."
"Okay… Hey, Jean?"
"Yes?"
"Why did they all start talkin' ta me? How'd they… get out? Ah mean that's never happened b'fore — usually after Ah touch someone they're around for a little while but after Ah block them out they never come back..."
"I think when your mind mimicked mine it weakened the barriers you had set up between yourself and them. They started coming and once you acknowledged them they were able to break through completely. They came from there..."
Jean gestures at a splintered closet door. There are scorch marks on it.
"I was here with Gambit since you hadn't had a chance to take care of him yet and all of a sudden the voices started and then… they just came crashing through. I guess that's where you've kept them."
"So Ah… Ah hafta put them back there?" She goes to the closet, peeks around the door nearly hanging off its hinges. There are four busted open metal boxes inside, chains scattered across the floor. It's cold inside, dark.
"So this is what mah mind usually looks like…? Shouldn't it have gone back ta this after ya powers wore off?"
"Not necessarily — your mind can look any way you want it too. The reason it's still like this is because this is how you want it to be."
"Oh…"
"So where should we start, Rogue?"
She turns away from the closet, looks around the room, not sure where to begin until her eyes catch on the mirror of her dresser reflecting a memory…
"How 'bout th'beginnin'?"
-/-
He's standing by the river. The sunlight falling through the trees highlights his blond hair in gold and paints lacy patterns of shadow on his bare arms. He smiles when he sees her and her heart aches. He's so young…
"M'glad ya came!" he says enthusiastically and plops down on the tall grass. "Service was borin' t'day huh?"
She swallows and nods. "Yeah… Ah hate church…"
He grins. "Me too… there's tons o' thing's Ah'd rather be doin' on a Sunday mornin' than gettin' all dressed up an lissenin' ta th' preacher go on an' on 'bout how we all goin' ta hell…"
She sits down beside him like she did before and she says like she did before,
"What would ya rather be doin', Cody?"
"I dunno… swimmin', playin' ball." He lays down with an arm behind his head, stares up at the blue, blue sky. She does too. "Ah'm gonna try out f'the'team at school next week an Ah was wonderin' if ya'd help me practice? There's all sorts of rules an' stuff that ya hafta pay attention to, but Ah kin teach ya. Ah bet yer good at baseball… 'specially the hittin' part…"
A yellow ladybug lands on her hand. She lets it crawl onto her finger, she holds it up to the sun.
"Those're good luck," Cody says. "Mah Granny Jane tol' me so. Ah caught me a red one once, but the next day Ah was in mah secret hideout and Ah fell off the ledge and broke mah arm in two places! Ah guess only the yellow one's're lucky..."
She watches it fly away.
"Ah don't b'lieve in that stuff." She gets up like she did then, hops onto the tire swing and pushes off with all her might. She flies over the river in a wide arc, the wind rippling through her hair, drying the tears on her cheeks. Cody watches her from the grass, still smiling, still so happy she's here with him.
"This's mah secret place," he calls. "It can be yours too if ya want…"
She hops off the swing and sits down again with her feet dangling in the river. She squishes her toes in the mud. She feels him come up behind her and sit down. He squints out at the water.
"You gotta best friend?"
"Ah ain' got any friends."
"Well… then… Ah'll be y'best friend if ya let me…"
"If Ah let ya what?"
He blinks at her confused for a second, then grins.
"If ya let me be ya best friend. Wha'dya think about that?"
"Alright. Jus' don't piss me off."
"Ah'll try not ta."
He sticks his feet in the water too, swirls them around, the river mud mushrooming up around their ankles.
"Ya'ever been ta th' Cari'bean?"
"Ah ain' nevah been nowhere."
"Ah wen' with mah mamma an' daddy once on vacation. We wen' ta a whole buncha islands… The water was so clear ya could see all th'way t'the bottom… not like th' river here. And the fishes… they come this close to ya…" He leans towards her, his nose almost brushing her cheek. She doesn't move. She stares at the water, the swirling mud.
"Whatcha think ya doin', Cody?"
"Ah think Ah'm gonna kiss ya."
She turns to look at him.
"What th'hell for?"
"Cuz Ah like ya an Ah think ya 'bout the sweetes' girl in th'whole state no matter what ya say…"
His eyes are so blue. He's so unafraid. He had no idea what was about to happen…
Neither did you, Rogue.
She closes her eyes, tilts her chin up to him just like she did then.
She doesn't feel the kiss. She opens her eyes and he's lying there in the grass, his feet still in the water, his eyes closed and a small smile on his lips.
She can see right through him. He looks like a ghost.
"Ah'm so sorry, Cody…"
It's okay, Ah know it wadn't yo' fault… ya still mah best friend…
She watches as he disappears completely but she can still feel him. He's in the wind, the sunlight, the gentle waves lapping against her ankles.
She whispers a goodbye and gets to her feet. Jean is waiting for her just beyond the shadow of the tree and they walk back to the house together. She lifts the window to the bedroom and climbs inside. She stands there for a moment looking at the tire hanging over the river and smiles softly when it begins to swing.
"Are you going to put him back in the closet?" Jean asks and she shakes her head, gently shutting the window behind them.
"No. Cody doesn' belong in there."
-/-
She finds Bruce under the bed where Pyro told her he'd be. She'd climbed under the dust ruffle and once she was through found herself back in the orphanage.
She stands beside her old bed now. She can feel the cold night air coming in through the window above it, chilling her all over again. She doesn't play her part like she did with Cody. She can't put herself through that again. Instead, she watches.
She watches him come in through the door, watches him carefully place his keys in his pocket so his hands will be free.
He places his palm on the bed, stretches out his fingers.
His gruff whisper, "You're so cold, darlin'… Let's see if Ah can warm ya up some…", shakes right through her, makes her skin crawl.
He runs his hands up and down the empty sheet and she looks away, stares at the empty beds listening to his labored breathing, feeling sick, angry.
"Darlin' you're so soft…"
He comes through the door again. He sits down on her bed, pulls the sheet off and looks at where she used to be. He whispers, "Mah life is a mess… Ah cain't stop this… Ah tell myself not to but then there ya are so sweet and soft in that beautiful moonlight…"
His hand reaches out, hovers, but doesn't land. He gets up from the bed. He leaves.
He comes again.
"So sorry, darlin'… so pretty…"
And again.
"So soft, pretty, pretty, girl"
He comes one last time.
He sits on the edge of her bed, rasps "Welcome home, darlin…"
"Come and get it, sugah," she whispers and he looks up at her, the real her. There are tears in his eyes.
He says, "Ah deserved this."
And she looks at him. Really looks at him, hears the thoughts that had been running through her head over and over and over again after she had absorbed him that night.
Ah am destined to hurt, ta be alone always. Ah am alone always. Everythin' Ah touch turns ta shit…
She knows the feeling.
"Ah deserved this," he says again more to himself and she wants to say "no ya didn't" but she can't. As sad and pathetic and sick as he is, she can't bring herself to say it. She hates him too much. She's glad he's dead.
His hand lands on the sheet where her naked skin had been.
She watches him stiffen, watches an invisible current run through his body and then yank everything out of him, his life, his memories, his shame. It forms a shadow over the bed in the shape of her eleven-year-old body.
Sunrise creeps over the window frame. Pink rays of sunlight pierce the shadow until it breaks apart and is gone.
Bruce says I'm so sorry, darlin'…
She looks down at his body, lying at the foot of her bed. She can see right through him too. The ghost disappears and somewhere far away she hears the lid of a metal box clamping shut.
She crawls out from under the bed. Jean is waiting for her by the closet. They look inside at the box as its chains snake up and around it.
"Ah didn't ask ya ta do that…" she murmurs and Jean shuts the door.
"He did," she says.
-/-
Remy is out on the front porch smoking a cigarette. He's humming a song to himself, watching the clouds drift over the moon.
She leans against the pillar across from him. "What is it with you and that song?" she asks and he takes a drag, closing his eyes as he exhales.
"Dat was when I lost her. In dat alley… it was over by den and I couldn't let her go…" he grins at her, his teeth flashing white in the darkness. "I didn' let you go… and den all dere was was darkness… jus' like wit Belle… my life one big dark hole…" He finishes the cigarette, pulls out a packet of matches that have Fahrenheit emblazoned across it in shiny red lettering.
"I felt you dat night at de club… dat firs' night… felt y'eyes. An' when I looked up an' saw y'standin' dere…" He charges a match. The tip flares. He watches it burn, tosses it away. "All dere was was you. Dat club was completely empty. All dere was was you." Flare. Burn. "I ain' never thought 'bout any o'dose girls. When dey were gone, dey were gone… but you…" he looks up at her. "You haunt me, chere."
He comes to her, rests a hand against the pillar beside her cheek. She closes her eyes. Even in her mind he smells so good…
He leans in close. She knows he's stroking her hair, gently running his fingers through it but she can't feel it.
"I saw m'self in dere…" He nods at the open door, at the bedroom just on the other side. "I recognized m'self-" he stops, laughs shortly. "I mean de'look… like Belle all over agin'… Don' tell me I wen' an fell in love wit ya, chere…"
She opens her eyes, gazes into his.
"Don' tell me I got m'heart broke agin'…"
She looks away and suddenly he grins, takes a step back, lights up another damn cigarette.
"I blew it big time, huh?" he chuckles. "Can' never seem t'hold onto de ladies dat're worth it…"
"I ruined it first," she whispers.
His eyebrows raise, a swirl of smoke creeps towards her from his lips.
"Tell me I f'gave ya, cuz man I know I be kickin' m'self if I din'…"
"Stop it."
"Stop what, chere?"
"Stop bein' so…"
Slow smile… she can feel it in her belly… warm…
"So what?"
"Nice."
He comes to her again. He looks so solid, she can't see through him, but she still can't feel him.
"You nice, chere…"
"No, Ah'm no-"
"An' beautiful… an sexy…" He dips his head, his lips a breath away from hers. "Please tell me dat second me got here by touchin' more den y'arm…"
"Remy…"
"Yeh?"
"I'm sorry."
"F'what?"
"That ya in me."
Another grin.
"I don' min' bein' in ya, chere…" She doesn't smile back and his eyes flicker, taking in the pain in hers. His voice is soft. "Long as you don' put me in de dark agin' I be fine neh?"
"Ah can't… Ah can't have ya talkin' t'me, Remy. Singing in mah head… It hurts…"
"Den I leave you alone, chere. I stay out here wit de stars and de boy." He nods at the tree, standing sentinel beside the river. "We keep each other from gettin' too lonely." He reaches out again, an intangible caress against her cheek. "Don' be sad, chere. Iss nice out here — I never been to Mississippi."
-/-
Pyro's taking a bubble bath in her tub. He's got the lights dimmed, the candles going.
"Please make y'self at home," she mutters kicking at his uniform dropped haphazardly on the tiles.
He smiles blowing a handful of bubbles at her and stretches comfortably, sending water sloshing over the edge of the tub.
"Good to be out of there… So cramped in that damned box… You could have at least given us coffins if you were gonna bury us. We could have laid down."
"Ah'll keep that in mind next time."
His eyes narrow.
"No way are you puttin' me back in there, girlie! I'll drive you crazy first! You can't-"
"Ah can an' Ah will."
He takes a swing at her and his fist passes through. He tries it again and she stands there beside the tub watching his hand disappear into her midsection again and again. She feels nothing.
His face crumples.
"C'mon, girlie you can't stick me back in there… I'm sorry I burned you but that's how initiations go. You had to prove yourself."
"Ah don't want ya in mah thoughts, St. John."
He pouts for a moment, stares at the mass of bubbles floating around him and says slowly, "What if I made you a deal?"
"What kinna deal?"
"I promise I'll keep quiet if you let me stay here where it's warm. I's fucking freezing in that place you had us."
"And ya promise ya'll stay here?"
"Scouts honor."
She looks at him dubiously as he makes a sloppy gesture with his soapy hand.
"Ah'm gonna have Jean lock th'door ya know."
"You don't trust me?"
She stares at him. He smiles.
"Just one more thing before you're off…" He starts to lift himself out of the tub and she slaps a hand over her eyes waving at him to sit back down.
"What?"
"Could you be a doll and pass this on to me?" She peeks at him through her fingers. He's holding out a soggy manuscript. "I've had a lot of time to think bein' locked up and bored out of my skull and I've come up with some great stuff. If you could just pass it along to me out there that'd be fantastic…" She takes it from him and he holds onto it for a moment looking into her eyes. "I think you'll like it — it's about a young Greek god whose kiss can move mountains and a lovely young thing who's punished by the Gods for her unearthly beauty…" He lets go of the manuscript and sinks back down into the tub, closing his eyes with a smile. "Everything she touches withers and dies…"
-/-
Jean locks the bathroom door and turns to look at her. "Are you okay? You look upset."
"Gambit's next."
She doesn't say anything else. She takes a deep breath, shoves her hair behind her ears and sets off down the hallway back to the room, knowing he's waiting for her there. Her heart is thumping in her chest. She feels guilty and angry. She wants to beg his forgiveness and beat the shit out of him. She wants to kiss him. She wants to shake him. She-
"Rogue…" Her hand pauses over the doorknob as she looks back over her shoulder. "He can touch you like I can. I'm not sure how long it'll take before he won't be able to anymore but… just know that and be careful. I'll be right out here if you need me."
"He won't hurt me, Jean."
"Just be careful."
-/-
She opens the door to the bedroom, steps inside.
He's not there.
The only light in the room comes from the window and the memories reflected back at her.
Remy's memories.
Her face flickers in the glass, Belle's.
Blue eyes turn green, gold hair, mahogany. His fingers in that hair, those eyes closed, that mouth…
Those lips that taste like sun-ripened strawberries, lips that taste like a lie.
"Ah don't hafta t'touch ya. Ah believe ya Remy…"
An arm hooks around her waist, pulling her onto the bed.
His weight pushes her into the mattress. She doesn't fight him. She believes what she said to Jean.
He stares down at her, a lock of hair falls, brushes her cheek.
"I don' love you."
"Ah know."
"You didn' hurt me. I don' care enough about you t'be hurt."
She swallows, staring right back.
"Same here."
"Good."
"Good."
She looks away. He cups her cheek in his palm making her look at him. His hand is warm, gloveless.
She feels his power seep into her, an electric current chasing her blood.
He lets go and for just a moment the weight of his body disappears as he flickers and fades before he is heavy again, solid and shaking his head. He pushes off her and leaves her lying on the bed.
She stares up at the ceiling, listens to him open the closet door and shut it behind him.
"Jean…"
She doesn't hear her come in, but suddenly she is sitting beside her on the bed.
"Ah'm ready to leave now."
"Everything taken care of?"
"Ah think so." Jean smiles and stands.
"Good. I have to go too, but I'll wait to make sure you get out okay if you want."
She sits up and looks at her.
"Jean, ya do know ya one of 'em right?"
"One of whom?"
"The psyches…" Jean pauses then laughs.
"No, I'm not."
"Ah watched ya leave Jean. The first time Ah met ya here. Ah watched ya go back to y'body…"
"But…"
"Jean-"
She doesn't say anything but pushes up off the ground trying to prove her wrong. She stops abruptly when she reaches the ceiling, her power flaring around her. She looks down.
"You're keeping me here… it's you…"
"Ah wish Ah could let ya go, but it doesn' work like that… Ya know it doesn'..."
Jean slowly drifts back down, sinks to her knees beside the bed.
"I couldn't reach anyone before when I tried… not the professor…not Scott…" Her eyes fill with tears. "Scott…"
"Ya with him Jean, ya with each other. Ya woke up, Ah swear." She sits down beside her, touches her shoulder. "Ah'm… Ah'm sorry."
Jean doesn't say anything for a long moment. She stares at the floor where her memories had swirled beneath their feet. Rogue closes her eyes and brings them back.
The floorboards become milky, transparent. Once again Jean's entire world is there. Jean looks up from it and into her eyes. She touches Rogue's bare hand giving her her power.
"To make getting back a little easier," she says flickering for a moment.
"Thank you," she whispers and the redhead nods, closing her eyes as she slips down beneath the floorboards and into the stars.
The floor becomes solid, and a shimmering pink line in the shape of one of Pyro's firebirds decorates it for a moment as Jean's voice fills the empty bedroom with "You know where I'll be if you need me, Rogue…"
She stands.
All she has to do is think herself out just like the last time. She can feel Jean's power waiting for her. She uses it to open the closet door Gambit has locked behind him and she steps inside.
There are only two boxes there now. One for Bruce and one for…
"Who's in dere?" Gambit comes up beside her and she shakes her head. She doesn't know… She approaches the box slowly, reaches out a hand to touch it. There are more chains around this one that the others. She hadn't noticed it before. She takes her hand back suddenly afraid.
She doesn't want to know who's inside.
She turns to go.
Gambit is sitting on Bruce's box watching her.
"Ya don't have to be in here ya know," she says quietly.
"I figured it's de farthes' away I can get from y'."
"I'll be okay if-"
"I ain't doin' it f'you." He slides off the box and turns his back on her, walks into the darkness and throws over his shoulder, "Lock de door b'hind y'Rogue."
-/-
There's a knock on her door.
She opens her eyes.
She listens for the voices but there's no sound. Her mind is clear. She sits up and stretches wondering how long she's been out as outside her window the sun sinks below the horizon and spills its dying light across the city.
She goes to her door, opens it.
No one is there.
She looks down.
An orange sits on a plate with a note that says "I'm sorry."
She takes the orange and carries it with her down the hall to Dominick's room.
She knocks and pushes open the door when his muffled voice says, "Come in."
He's lying on his bed on his back, his hands folded neatly on his chest. He crooks his neck to look at her standing in his doorway.
"Am Ah botherin' ya?"
"No." He sits up as she comes in. She holds the orange between her two hands like something delicate, easily crushed, and studies the paintings hanging unframed on his wall. She's not really sure why she's here. She's not sure she trusts him any more than she does Mystique, but she wants to thank him for the orange. She's not going to apologize for threatening him. "These are beautiful," she says nodding at the paintings. "Were these your 'welcome to The Brotherhood' gift?"
"No, they're mine." She leans closer, notices the signature laced in with the swirling jewel blue water.
"You painted these?"
"Yes."
She looks at the next painting, the blinding white building with a cerulean dome and a single solitary cross at the top stamped into the sky.
"Is this Greece?" she asks looking back at him.
"Yes — Santorini."
"Do ya miss it?"
"Not lately." He's looking at her so intently she doesn't know how to respond.
She looks down at her orange, says "thank you" for it.
"I thought you might be hungry."
"Ah am." He gets up from the bed, comes to her and her back is to the wall, nowhere to go. She tenses and he stops, looking sad.
"I thought he was the reason you were holding back. That's why I lied." He shakes his head, closes his eyes. "He's not worth your… concern, Rogue. He's not worth it."
"Ah think that's f'me ta decide, Dom."
"Look, I lied to you and I'm sorry but… we needed you. What's going on here… it's more important than that assho-" he stops, coughs. "It's important."
She takes a deep breath and steps away from him. There's nowhere for the conversation to go and she's too tired and fed up to start arguing all over again about how wrong it all is.
He reaches out and carefully touches her arm, stopping her. "But you are too… You… I consider you a friend and it was wrong how I… manipulated you." He takes his hand back, shoves it into his pocket.
"Ah thought of you as a friend too, Dom… Ah…ah still do."
"She's your friend too, you know. I know you feel used right now but… Rogue, she's talked about you for years and not just in terms of how you can help us. She honestly does care about you. She really does want to help you. She really does want to help all of us…"
"The cost's too high, Dom. She's turned you into a killer." She looks at him standing before her and he looks so young, too young. "That's not who ya are…"
Ya should be paintin' the ocean, the sunset. Ya hands should be instruments of beauty, not destruction…
"Ya don't belong here any more than Ah do."