Disclaimer: None of the mutants belong to me. Anything familiar you read below is most probably not mine either.

A/N:

How long was I gone? A week? Two? A month? A month and a half?

blushes shamefully

Sorry guys. In my defense, I had most of this chap written on time, just ask those who check out my blog at triple w dot xanga dot com slash khayee. Unfortunately, I was busy on a project for most of April and was hospitalized for two weeks in May. After I got home, actually after that horrible, horrible experience (something about having a morbid fear of needles with a doctor who absolutely insisted on blood samples every eight hours), I was so weak that I can't write for a while.

Can you forgive me also for not answering reviews for this chapter? I have a feeling that you've forgotten all about this fic and what you've written all those weeks ago. =) Plus, still feeling a wee bit woozy.

Thanks guys. And to make it up, I'm updating my other fic too.

Special prize goes to JexyBaby and to curlygurly for getting my arse into gear for this one.

               

Ideologies

Chapter 18

She felt it even before her hand touched skin.

Raw power. Limitless potential. Energy in its purest form.

And it was hers for the taking.

You wouldn't know it by looking at her, but deep within Jean Grey is a force beyond imagining, boiling beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed. Yet, even its possessor is not yet powerful enough to contain it. Instead, it is the power who destined to control the possessor, as is happening now.

Rogue felt the powers within her react with Jean Grey's. Their proximity made it possible for the Brotherhood teen to see what lies within the popular telepath.

It burns, weakly at first, but it is becoming stronger and brighter with each passing moment. It burns.

The fire is slowly consuming the redhead.

That same fire is beckoning to the other girl.

Rogue's hand moved, poised over the unconscious body of Jean Grey.

Around her, Jean's telekinesis continued on moving objects, hurling them through the air. Her wild telepathic power, on the other hand, kept the debatably strongest telepath of the world from getting to her. Charles Xavier had never felt more impotent in his life.

But Rogue was safe inside the same telekinetic bubble that Jean made unconsciously to protect herself.

Just as Rogue felt Jean's powers calling her, the fire inside the redhead seemed to recognize Rogue and kept her safe from the attack too. Or maybe it was a manifestation of Rogue's power, a defensive mechanism of her own body in response to her survival instincts.

All they knew was that the moment Rogue stepped into the nearly-destroyed medlab, Rogue was enclosed in a bubble which kept her safe. And unlike in other people's previous attempts, Rogue was allowed passage towards the unconscious X-Man.

"If you want any semblance of control over your powers then you must not be afraid to use it."

"But momma," the confused teen protested. "It hurts. Every time I touch someone, it hurts." She shuddered as she remembered the burning sensation on her skin moments before, when she absorbed the unconscious man on her feet.

The mother didn't say anything. "Nothing in life is easy." She said after a while. "You have to grow strong or else everyone will treat you cruelly. And in order to be strong, you must be willing to make sacrifices and take pain as they come."

Rogue closed her eyes. I have to be strong. I have to be the strongest.

Without giving herself a time to think further, Rogue grabbed Jean's hand.

And the two women both screamed in agony.

"Where were you?"

Rogue bit back a sarcastic reply as she trudged through the front door where Lance was awaiting her return. "Out."

"You've been with that thief and liar, haven't you?" Lance ground out as he grabbed a covered arm to keep her from storming into her room.

"None of your business." Rogue replied as she shook her leader off and headed for the stairs. Lance cut her off with a minor quake.

"Rogue." Kurt ported in when he heard the rising voices, ready to intervene in case violence breaks out.

"Keep out of this," Lance told the elf. "Someone's been betraying the Brotherhood."

Rogue let out a growl as she turned around to face her team leader. "And you think it's me?" She demanded, her green eyes flashing.

"Everyone's a suspect until proven otherwise," Lance replied evenly. "Now, where were you tonight?"

"Out."

"Rogue, you're not helping your case any!" Lance called out.

"I am loyal to the Brotherhood, Lance, you know that as well as I do." Rogue hissed. "You guys are my family. I will never turn my back on my family." With that, Rogue turned and walked away.

"Lance?" Kurt called out hesitantly.

"Talk to your sister, Kurt." Lance said in defeat.

"Get out."

Remy raised an eyebrow as he pushed himself to an upright position. He had been lounging lazily against a tree, smoking a cigarette. A tree just at the edge of the Brotherhood Boarding House property to be precise.

After absorbing the excess of Jean's powers, Remy had given an exhausted Rogue a ride home. As he was walking her towards the front door of the Boarding House, Remy's empathy had kicked in again, giving him a feeling that he was finally coming home, a feeling he was positive emanated from Rogue. That one had puzzled him. It was exactly the same feeling that he felt when he walked with her up the Institute doors. He had shrugged it off.

"Hey! You heard me, you dirty thief?"

Remy turned his head a bit to see a pissed-off Quicksilver.

"Or maybe you want me to escort you out?"

"No need to get violent, homme," Remy placated the silver-haired teen, using a bit of his charm powers. "Remy was just on his way out," he smirked as he moved away.

The angry warning about the thief staying far, far away from Rogue died in Pietro's lips, as he watched in bewitched wonder as Gambit escaped.

A minute or two after the noise of the motorcycle ceased, Pietro shook himself from his stupor. "What on earth just happened?"

Raven Darkholme was no stranger to pain.

She was introduced to it as a child when her grandmother abrasively pulled her away from the windows where the young Mystique was watching other children happily play. She had felt it when she was forbidden from ever stepping out of their house by her previously loving gramps. She had felt it when her grandmother was found dead days later by social workers. She knew pain when the social workers looked at the blue-skinned child with fear and disgust. She had known it when she ran away and did what she can to survive in the streets. She knew it when she found out she was a mutant when she excruciatingly shape-shifted for the first time. She knew it when the man she thought she loved left her, and again later when she found that she was with child.

And yet, now, standing outside of her lover's room, Raven felt pain a thousand fold.

She had not entered Irene Adler's room since they were captured by Bolivar Trask and his men.

Placing a tentative hand on Irene's door, Raven was accosted with more pain than she had felt in the past.

She had thought that she finally found happiness in Irene, only to have that happiness once again wrenched for her.

It was painful. But she knew she has to endure pain if she was to be strong.

And to be strong, she must.

Pushing the door open, she was almost unprepared against the memories that accosted her.

Irene's scent was still prevalent in the small but neat room. Raven almost believed that any moment now, Irene would step out of the bathroom to greet her.

Raven had prepared herself for the pain. But another emotion attacked her, one that she was unready for. Guilt.

She had insisted that Irene's room be separated from hers. Magneto and other people must not perceive a weakness against Mystique. No one must know that the blind clairvoyant was held by the shape shifter closer than any other person in her heart.

And because of that, the two of them lost so much time.

Raven closed her eyes, and with that, she managed to close off her feelings. That was how she survived in the streets for so long. She numbed herself from her emotions and she does what she must.

When Raven finally opened her eyes, she immediately made her way towards her goal.

Reaching out with one hand, a finger gracefully traced the spines of a generic looking set of black leather bound books. Books that Irene spent most of her time scribbling in, regardless of the fact that she cannot see each fresh page or any line of her mad scrawlings. Irene had claimed that the books have saved her sanity.

And Raven believed her.

The set of books would be Irene's legacy.

Destiny's Diaries.

Picking one out, she slid it away from the others and opened it, her eyes furiously traveling across the page. She must know if they had succeeded in unlocking the powers of their child.

Rogue trained her unseeing eyes on the thankfully plain white ceiling. She didn't want to close them anymore.

Because every time she did, she sees a flash of memory.

Painful ones.

Ones that can drive a person insane.

Memories that scream to be avenged.

Memories of torture, rejection, ridicule, and intolerance.

Memories of disappointment, hurt, mystification, and grief.

Memories that weren't hers.

"Chere?"

Dilemma immediately forgotten, Rogue groaned. "Go away."

Raven's eyes widened as she drank in the page before her. Feeling weak in the knees, she collapsed upon Irene's bed. The shape-shifter didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

It had begun.

tbc

As usual, reviews would be greatly appreciated! =)