"He's good."
Raven nods at the monitor that displays Gambit's fingers as they nimbly work a lock and pop another door. He hasn't stopped for more than three seconds at each one he's encountered so far, and the com unit with the tiny built-in camera has caught every movement he's made since he entered the office building.
They watch him slink down the dark corridor through the monitor on Pyro's badge, unconsciously graceful, elegant, soundless. A shadow's shadow. He won't be seen unless he wants to be.
Rogue shrugs.
"He's an expert."
And he is completely insulted that Pyro has been sent in with him.
"Trus' me, I do dis kinna stuff better on m'own."
"We're sending you after some very important information. We need to be sure you will bring it back to us. You're still on probation, which means you need supervision."
"So who's gon' do de babysittin' den? De guy in de bright yellowuniform - very discreet by de way - o' de kid who can crack rocks? Dat'll be helpful, "stealth" bein' de key word an all when you robbin' somebody..."
"I can't let you have Rogue, she's not at 100 percent right now."
"Who said I wan' de femme? I wan' go on m'own."
"We've been through this-"
"Fine, fine. I take Big Bird den - if he get us caught, I can at least make m'escape while de cops're laughin' dey asses off..." He shakes his head at a fuming Pyro. "Honestly, homme, what were y'tinkin'?
Gambit holds a disc up over his shoulder between two fingers, turns and blows a kiss at Pyro's monitor before slipping past him and out the door.
Pyro growls into his com unit, "We're done."
Mystique flicks off the monitor with a satisfied smile.
"I should thank you, Rogue - he's proven to be a real asset to the team."
"Why thank me? Ah didn't-"
"He sought us out because of you. You let him win the-"
"Fo' th' last time, Ah did not let him win!" Mystique raises a skeptical eyebrow, lifts her chin. Rogue clenches her fists. "Ah know ya don't wanna hear it, Raven, but Ah don't particularly like havin' voices in mah head and if Ah can avoid it Ah will."
"Even if it means losing someone you care about?"
Rogue looks away from those storm-cloud eyes, the slight edge to her voice, that warning. She focuses on the flat screen on the wall, remembers the gut-twisting shock of seeing Deborah there, furiously pounding on the door of her prison, sinking to her knees, crying to be let out...
Raven watches her face, waits for an answer, and she mutters, "Maybe... 'Specially if that someone's already lost." She turns away from the screen, the memory of Deborah's tears, and glares at Raven still studying her. "How do Ah know ya didn' kill her, Raven? Ya don't let me see her, talk to her... ya could have me on a leash fo' as long as ya wan'..."
"You saw that she was perfectly fine-"
"Yeah, once. Weeks ago. Do ya think Ah'm stupid? Fo' all Ah know that coulda been a tape - ya coulda taped her and then killed her-"
"Rogue, Deborah is fine."
"Prove it."
Raven shrugs, flips on the flat screen, and Rogue slaps her hand on the power button turning it back off again.
"No. Ah wanna see her. Ah mean it this time, Raven. Ya ain' got no right expectin' me ta take ya at y'word... Ya better give me somethin' real or Ah'm done."
Raven stares at her for a long moment. She smiles once, softly, murmurs, "Alright. You've been patient long enough. Now please get Irene while I find Dominick - the boys will be back soon."
-/-
She hasn't set foot inside Irene's room since she first met the woman. It's as dark as it was then, but there is no one inside now.
She should go and look for her, take her back to the office where the others will be waiting to go through the stolen files.
She goes straight for the books instead. She doesn't know when she'll get another opportunity, Irene rarely leaves her bedroom.
Trouble is brewing. She's been feeling it for days. Aside from tonight's meeting, Mystique has been leaving her alone for the most part, and she has kept her distance from everyone hoping that will continue, but she's not stupid.
Mystique threatening Deborah again so blatantly has confirmed what she's been fearing every minute of all those long hours alone in her room, alone on the roof.
Time is running out.
She pulls out volume twelve and quickly flips through it looking for that last page, the one that Irene had refused to show her.
Her throat tightens as she pauses on the one of her and Remy alone together in the subway car. It feels like a lifetime ago... two lifetimes ago. She looks at his chiselled profile, the dark sweep of his lashes as he looks down at her, and-
She turns the page.
She is standing beside a man that she has seen before in one of the other volumes. The man with the helmet. There are people at their feet. People lying dead amongst rubble and ash. She recognizes them.
Jean and Scott.
Betsy and Hank.
Bobby and Logan.
She slams the book shut.
"Rogue, what are you doing in here?" Irene's soft voice from the doorway, calm as ever. She knows she's seen and Rogue shivers inwardly because she seems unconcerned. As though it doesn't matter anymore. Because it's too late, it can't be stopped now.
Things have already been set into motion.
She turns, looks into Irene's eyes that see past her and says thickly, "Y'gonna hafta start a new book, Destiny - this one's got a crap endin'."
Irene doesn't answer as she pushes the book back into its place, wipes her hands hard on her thighs as though she's touched something dirty. Contaminated.
"Mystique sent me fo' ya. They got the disc and they'll be back soon. She wants us all to go through the files."
"Rogue-"
She leaves the room, not waiting for Irene to follow, the image of herself and the man and what they will do now seared into her brain.
You've been patient long enough...
What Raven hadn't said was, "and so have I", but Rogue had felt it there in the air between them. She'd been feeling it. Raven is going to call on her soon.
And she needs to be sure, absolutely sure, that Deborah really is here, that her life really is in danger.
She's not going to accept any excuses, she's not going to wait another day. She's not going to waste any more time hiding out in a solitude that she's beginning to realize has been a gift. Raven's last gift before she destroys her. She needs to know once and for all that the threat is real because she's afraid the man will be coming soon and she needs to leave before that happens.
Because after that there'll be no turning back.
-/-
"Asshole ditched me! Tossed me the disc and said he was "goin' out" for a while and not to "wait up"!"
Pyro plops down in front of the console and shoves the disc into the computer still muttering obscenities under his breath.
Dominick pushes a button on the wall and the Matisse slides up and behind a screen that comes forward.
Raven leans over Pyro's shoulder and punches in a password. She opens the disc.
MUTANT CONTROL AGENCY: Mutant Classification Files
Threat (46 on file)
Non-Threat (183 on file)
"I don't think I need to ask where to look first do I?" Pyro grins and double clicks on the 46.
5 images fill the screen.
"Mugshots," he says and looks at Mystique who is standing before them, arms crossed, mouth pressed into a hard line.
"Next," she says.
5 more images.
"Next."
5 more.
"Again."
Rogue watches the faces of mutant after mutant flash across the screen and holds her breath, hoping to God he won't be one of them. The man in the book. The murderer. Mystique had neglected to tell her the purpose of this mission other than "information retrieval", but it's becoming crystal clear. She was right. They have begun looking for him.
She watches Raven's eyes boring into the screen with feverish expectancy. Watches them narrow in disbelief and then close as the last image stares out at them.
Number 46 is a young man with golden hair, eyes as blue as the sky and a miserable slant to his mouth. Two graceful feathered curves rise from behind his shoulders, the tops of a pair of-
"Wings..." Rogue breathes coming closer to the screen, feeling almost giddy, lightheaded with relief that-
"He's not here," Raven says tightly and Irene shakes her head, reaches a hand out to rest on her shoulder, squeezes gently.
"They have him, I know they do. We will have to go back."
"We got it all, Destiny." Pyro leans back in his chair, shrugs. "Your boyo may be with them, but he ain't on file."
"Then we'll have to find another way of locating him." Raven turns away from the sad angel still frozen on the screen and faces them. "All we can do now is use what we have here. Pyro, you're on recruiting detail. I want a complete list of possible fits culled from these files. Destiny and I will make the final decisions."
Pyro nods, his fingers already flying over the keyboard, and Rogue stands, blocking the door as Raven turns to go.
"Mystique..."
"I haven't forgotten," Raven says and turns her head slightly, looking over her shoulder at Dominick. "Petros, I think it's time for you and Rogue to bring our guest her breakfast."
Dominick freezes halfway up from his chair, his tanned skin paling as he looks at Rogue.
She stares back at him, giddy, lightheaded.
Nauseous.
-/-
She leans against the kitchen counter, watches him pour orange juice into a glass. She watches him scramble eggs, fry bacon, cut fruit.
He can't even look at her.
"I'm sorry," he says.
"I couldn't tell you," he says.
She wants to scream at him, but all she can manage is a whisper.
"Ya lied ta me... All those times Ah asked ya if ya'd heard anythin', seen anythin'. Ah thought she was dead. Mystique kept refusin' ta let me see her..."
He looks up then, frowns. "You thought she-"
"Oh don't act so surprised. Ah ain' stupid an neither are you. Ah wouldn' put it pas' Mystique ta kill her but make sure she's got just enough footage ta keep me convinced..."
"Raven hasn't touched her Rogue, I promise. I've been taking care of her the whole ti-" He breaks off at the look on her face and tries again. "I won't let anything happen to her. I know she means something to you."
"Ya shoulda tol' me."
"I'm not stupid and neither are you," he repeats somberly and places a flower in the plastic vase before lifting the tray. "Did you want Pyro to look after her? If I screw up he's next in line."
"It woulda been our secret-"
"There aren't any secrets here. They know everything. Besides if I had told you then what? You'd try to break her out and I'd have to turn you in."
She stares at him, stunned.
"C'mon," he says gently and nudges her towards the door. "It's okay now anyway, Raven says you can see her. Don't hate me, Rogue... I told you I believe in what we're doing here, you know that... and I care about you, you know I do..." He bites his lip, his brown eyes soft, distressed. "But if you go against her... I don't want you to depend on me cause all I can do is let you down..."
"Ah can't b'lieve y'sayin' this... Ah thought... Ah thought ya got mah back..."
"I do."
"Right. As long as Ah'm on y'team. Ah got it now."
"Rogue, don-"
"Jus' take me to her."
-/-
She was right about the floor below the penthouse. Deborah has been here the whole time.
She follows Dominick into the elevator and watches as he punches in a number sequence using the floor's buttons. He informs her that the codes change daily just in case she has any ideas about unsupervised visits.
"Raven told me to tell you that," he says miserably as a square panel below the emergency button slides away. He presses his thumb against it and the elevator moves down one floor.
Deborah's floor.
He takes the tray from her as the doors slide open and leads her down the hall. The layout is almost identical to the penthouse, Deborah's prison directly below Raven's office.
She stares at Dominick's back as he punches in yet another code.
One more betrayal, one more friend turned enemy.
And she shouldn't be surprised really. Hasn't everything always turned out like this? Hasn't she always trusted the wrong people? Done the wrong thing? Maybe that's genetic too, another kind of curse that's embedded into her DNA. Stupidity, naiveté. For someone who had spent most of her life keeping people at an arm's length she had given her trust so easily, so quickly to Remy, to Raven and Irene, Dominick.
Why all of a sudden had she needed people when she hadn't needed anyone before?
Because ya didn' wanna be alone no more... Because Deborah showed you what it's like ta have a frien', ta have someone ta talk ta an' laugh with... ta have someone y'can be y'self with. Someone who knows who ya are, but sticks aroun' anyway...
And she's grateful for that friendship, despite everything. She's grateful for Deborah, and she swears to herself that she will do whatever it takes to keep her safe, but the drawing haunts her now.
Remy's friends dead at her feet... their mouths frozen open in agony, their bodies stiff and twisted...
It makes her stomach heave, her heart pound because she knows deep down it's really going to come to that.
The door swishes open. Dominick steps aside, letting her in.
And suddenly there she is, lying on a bed, one arm flung over her eyes, the other hanging off the edge, her fingers trailing on the floor, really her, really Deborah.
Dominick sets the tray down on the table and says softly, "We should go back upstairs. Maybe Raven'll let you come back when she's awake-"
She ignores him, pushes past him to the bed. She carefully sits down beside Deborah and brushes the dark curls back from her forehead with a gloved hand.
She doesn't look like she's been harmed in any way. Raven had told her the truth for once.
She thinks about waking her but suddenly does not know what she would say. "I'm sorry" comes nowhere near...
She looks at Dominick with his head bowed, respectfully looking away, letting her have as much privacy with her friend as he is able. It crosses her mind that she can do it, take him down and make a run for it with Deborah right now...
Ah can do it... Ah can-
But there's a camera bolted in the corner of the room.
Shit.
And of course Raven is watching. Right now waiting for her to do it. She would lock down the elevators the second she removed a glove, and before she could formulate any other plan of escape the Brotherhood would be coming and they would probably kill them both on the spot.
And she can't risk Deborah's safety like that. No matter how much she wants all of this to be over.
She looks at Dominick trying so hard to be invisible and knows she doesn't really want to hurt him anyway. He looks too distraught, too ashamed.
"Alright," she whispers, "Ah'm satisfied that she's okay." She stands and makes a discreet sweep of the room from under her lashes as she turns to leave.
No windows, just th'one door... Which is a problem.
Except...
There...
There against the far wall... right behind the bed...what...?
Her eyes catch the faint rectangular outline of another door set so seamlessly into the wall she's surprised she noticed it at all. Just a slight indentation she had thought at first was a trick of the dim light humming from the ceiling, but no...
That's definitely a door...
"Do you want me to make you some breakfast too?" Dominick asks her as the cell door clicks shut behind them, and she mutters under her breath, "Ah don't want anythin' from you" as she makes her way down the corridor and back to the elevator.
-/-
She turns a corner and her body collides with Remy's, the smell of leather and his cologne filling her mouth as she gasps into his shirt.
His hands grasp her elbows and hers automatically find his waist. And just as quickly they're both letting go, jerking back into an awkward silence, the sudden cold of the hallway.
"Sorry."
Silence.
She hasn't really seen him since that night at the pool. She thinks he's been avoiding her too.
He clears his throat but makes no move to leave.
"So... we get what we needed from dose files?"
"No... They're formulatin' another plan far's Ah know."
"Dis Erik guy mus' be pretty powerful i-"
"Erik?"
Is that his name?
"Dey didn' tell you 'bout him?" he frowns, confused.
"They don't tell me nothin'."
"Oh, I see - You de follow-de-orders-ask-no-questions type, eh?"
She glares at him.
"No. They just don't trust me. You seem ta be fittin' in jus'fine tho..."
He grins, slouches against the wall with a shrug and scratches lazily behind his ear. Her eyes catch on the skin of his throat beneath his disrupted collar, the smudge of lipstick there like a blush, a bruise.
"...said he was "goin' out" for a while and not to "wait up"..."
"Y'have a good time?" She can't stop herself from asking, and his lips slip into another kind of smile as he murmurs, "Always," and she stands there for a moment longer feeling stupid, still staring at his throat.
He wanted her to see, to know what he had been doing. That's why he hadn't simply kept on going after they'd rammed into each other. He had wanted her to see the mark on his body that someone else has made, he wants her to know that someone else's mouth has been on his skin, has kissed and-
"Yeah. Well. Bye."
She steps around him and continues on down the hallway.
She's almost at her door but he stops her with, "Where ya been, Rogue?", and she turns halfway to look back at him even though she knows she shouldn't.
"Whaddaya mean?"
"I haven' seen y'roun'..."
He hasn't moved from the wall, and she can tell nothing from his expression.
"Ah've been here," she says, and all of a sudden her eyes are burning, her throat is tightening with exhaustion, frustration.
Ah'll always be here...
Because even if she does find a way to free Deborah, Mystique's not going to just let her walk away. It's impossible to disappear, to hide. Destiny will find her. And Mystique will come up with another way of trapping her, making her stay, making her touch, hurt, kill.
And by the time that happens Gambit will most likely have moved on to the next available cause that'll give him a nice place to stay.
She turns her back on him, she tries to walk away.
He follows her to her door, he says, "Why don' y'leave if you so miser'ble?" and she still can't tell if he's trying to pick a fight or if he really just wants to know because she's not looking into his face, she's not looking into his eyes.
She doesn't have time for this.
She has to get away from him and figure out what to do now that she knows where Deborah is.
She has to go but she stays, she stays and she says, "Ah can't leave, LeBeau."
"Why not?"
"Why so innerested all of a sudden?"
"Maybe I jus' be havin' second t'oughts 'bout you an dis place... Maybe I can't see de fit no mo'..." He frowns at her, tilts his head to the side, steps a little closer, trying to find her eyes. "Why you here?"
His voice, so soft and no longer barbed... She can feel herself going into a tailspin because he's too close just like he's always been too close, and he's talking too gently, looking at her too intently.
"What're ya playin' at now..." she whispers. "What is this... suddenly all concerned..."
"Dis Erik guy be bad news. From what I hear he not wort' gettin' tangled up wit unless you fully invested." He takes another step closer and she grips the doorknob to her room, her arm twisted behind her. All she has to do is turn it to make him go away.
She doesn't have time for this, for his games.
She has to figure out how to get through that hidden door.
She has to figure out how to save Deborah before they find Erik.
She doesn't know how much time she has left, but she'll be damned if she's going to waste any more of it with him. Because his concern isn't real, the gentle tone of his voice, his eyes tracing her face waiting for her to look... none of it's real.
He wants something from her.
"So..." he murmurs, "y'invested, Rogue?"
She looks up, looks him straight in the eye. He's not getting a thing.
"Either tell me what ya gettin' at o' fuck off."
Flicker. Burn.
The corner of his mouth jerks up in a smirk.
He backs away with both hands up, and the tiny flame of victory she feels at his departure is quenched when he throws over his shoulder, "Jus' makin' sure y'ain' gon' slow us down's all."