Two reasons for the delay in the update.
First I just lost some steam for a while and it was difficult to write out the story when I just didn't care. Fortunately that phase has passed and I'm ready to go at it again.
Second, we all know the John is a big character in this story. A funny character who plays with fire. I try to make John and his antics with fire as amusing as possible. Lately I'm finding it difficult to find fire funny (alliteration I know) since I live in Southern California. Where there are a ton of massive fires right now, really close to my home. Thus I'm having a bit of trouble with John for the present, I assure you it will pass eventually and I will once again embrace the John we all know and love.
My Red Sox lost. I'm so sad. Stupid Yankees. Evil Beta for being a Yankees fan. Go figure.
Crazed Maniac 02- Good for you. Did you enjoy the book? Or did you find it a bit disappointing like I did? I'd like to know.
Roguehobbit – Yeah, I just couldn't picture Toad as the Phantom. Hence the primary reason he didn't get the job. Glad you liked the labyrinth.
Winter Fire – I wish I could take credit for the mythological reference but I can't. In the novel and in the play the Phantom gets across the underground lake by putting the pole into the water and pushing them along. But good job to notice that reference because I sure didn't. Bobby, Kurt, and John's plan (well their plan for Jean at any rate) will be revealed.
Terminatrix T-X – Worried about what the trio are up to aren't you? Never fear, they have loads of fun in store. Good luck getting to see the play.
The Gothic Kleptomaniac – Glad to hear that there is someone out there besides me who likes Magneto/Rogue romances. I'll do my best to make this worth while.
Griffingoalie – You are on the list. If there is anything that I can ever do for you just ask and it will be done. Such is my gratitude to anyone who roots for the Red Sox. I love writing this story, especially Kurt, Bobby, and John. Much fun. I'm glad to hear that you enjoy the story.
Ev1ta – Have fun reading the book.
Ishandahalf – Yes, I did wreak havoc with your mind didn't I? Perks of the trade. Besides you enjoyed it. Another gold star! I'm reaping these in now! No real problem with the age difference between Rogue and Magneto for two reasons. First is that the Phantom is supposed to be in his mid to late 40's while Christine is supposed to be late teens/early 20's. Second, since this is an AU I'm altering Magneto's age slightly to make him about 40 something. No real problem unless you object to those 20 year olds marrying the 80 year old millionaires.
mAd RoGuE – I have this problem with cliff hangers. Do it all the time, can't help it. Sorry. Hope you enjoy what comes next.
Thanks to Spiffythefaery for spending her valuable time beta reading this and many other stories that tumble about in my warped mind.
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"Can you even dare to look
or bear to think of me?
This lonesome gargoyle that burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven…"
-The Phantom
Rogue's eyes opened and quickly closed again, in an attempt to protect her vision from the onslaught of harsh light.
Cracking one eye open warily, Rogue waited until she adjusted to the light before looking around. She didn't know where she was. She was in a vast room, lying on a grandiose bed. Trying to recall the events of the night before Rogue felt a pang of pain shoot through her head.
Clenching her teeth in agony, Rogue rubbed her head, squinting while she did so. Her vision became blurred and a dark shadow entered her sight. She felt a cold hand press some small objects into her unemployed hand.
"They will help with the pain," a deep ominous voice boomed, one that Rogue knew well. A voice that had been a comfort to her, a voice that had promised her that she would be able to obtain her greatest desires. The voice of her Angel.
The events of the night before rushed back to Rogue. She had been in Remy's company until she had gone off with Angel through the mirror. Rogue frowned at this thought. He had given her another name, another name which he went by: Phantom. The Phantom had taken her through the bowels of the mansion to his home, wherever that was.
"I assure you they are not dangerous," the Phantom said. Rogue realized that she hadn't taken the pills he had given her. Although her mind was shouting at her to not trust the mysterious man, Rogue decided that it would be best if she obeyed the Phantom's commands, at least for the moment. Now that she had her wits about her once more, her cynical and distrustful temperament was focusing on the Phantom.
He took no note of this change in Rogue's attitude however. After seeing Rogue go to swallow the pills he had turned and glided across the floor to the other side of the chamber. With a dramatic sweep of his violet cape, he sat down at the large oak desk and began to scribble away at some work.
Rogue took the opportunity to take a better look at her surroundings. She had only gotten a brief glance from the night before and she only vaguely remembered what she had seen. She was currently lying down on the large bed that was tucked away in the corner of the vast underground room. To her immediate right there was a small kitchen, complete with refrigerator and microwave. There were a few chairs, all metal, Rogue noticed, that had been scattered across the chamber. Directly across from Rogue was the indigo sheet, still hiding half of the chamber from her view. Along the far wall resided the massive oak desk that the Phantom was working at. And idly sitting in the center of the chamber was the small elevator.
Rogue rolled over and out of bed, noticing that she was still wearing the dress from the night before. Her gloves had been stripped off, leaving her arms completely bare. Rogue pondered this for a moment before noticing the lengthy black gloves lying uselessly on the floor. She started to move towards them.
Rogue jerked her foot back, noticing how cold the floor was and that her foot was completely bare. After she had fainted the Phantom must have removed her shoes. Her eyes narrowed as she searched for them. They had been placed on the bed, right beside her head. Rogue snatched the shoes and placed them on her swollen feet, the amount of walking she had done with those shoes had not been smart. With her shoes on she made her way across the metal floor to grab her gloves.
Pulling on her gloves, Rogue realized that she was extremely close to the indigo curtain. Shooting a look at the working Phantom, she tried to move across the room silently, so that she could get a look of what was behind the curtain. Even though her shoes clomped against the floor, the Phantom didn't seem to notice her; his attention riveted upon his work.
Rogue saw this and, grinning to herself, she stretched an arm out and grasped the curtain. The material was soft and plush, that much Rogue could feel between her gloved fingers. Letting her fingers run over the material for a moment, she grabbed a chunk of the curtain, prepared to toss it aside.
"I told you before that you were not to touch the curtain," the Phantom said from behind Rogue, his shadow looming over her. Releasing her grip Rogue turned to face him. He loomed over her, his cape falling over his shoulders. His glowing eyes clashed with the darkness that hid his face, his helmet preventing her from seeing his features.
"What's back there?" Rogue asked, refusing to let herself be intimidated by the mysterious man.
"Things that you are not yet ready for," the Phantom replied, his hand snaking up to Rogue's face. He still had yet to replace his gloves; his ice cold fingers lightly grazing her chin.
"You shouldn't concern yourself with it. When you are ready I will show you what lies back there," the Phantom said as he caressed Rogue's cheek with a finger. Rogue flinched as his freezing flesh came into contact with hers, but she still marveled that she was able to touch him. And if she could touch him, then…
"Can Ah control my powers now?" Rogue whispered. The Phantom withdrew his hand.
"Not yet. Soon, very soon."
"Then how can you touch me?" The Phantom took a few steps backward, his shadow no longer looming over Rogue.
"I have my ways Rogue." With that he turned and made his way back to his desk, his feet never touching the floor as he moved. Rogue stayed silent as she watched him make his way back to his desk.
"Where are we?"
"Underground, in the bowels of the Earth."
"Ah mean, where in relation to the mansion?" The Phantom was silent; the only sound the scratching of his pen against paper.
"We are below the mansion," the Phantom said quickly before turning back to his writing. Rogue noticed his helmet lightly bobbing up and down as he wrote. Curiosity filled her mind, thoughts about her mysterious tutor and his odd appearance. He said earlier that he had been rejected by the world. Why? For what reason? And why did he wear that helmet?
For a moment Rogue toyed with the idea of asking the Phantom why he wore the helmet or why he lived so far below the ground, or why he hid from the world. But Rogue had gotten to know her instructor over the past several weeks and she instinctively knew what he was going to say in response to her questions. He would angrily reply that it was none of her business and that she should keep her nose out of it.
Something in Rogue wouldn't have accepted this answer. She had to know. She needed to find out his secrets, to find out why he had been shunned by the world above. There was only one way to do that. She needed to see his face; she needed to remove his helmet.
Removing her shoes to prevent any noise from giving away her activities, Rogue crept towards the Phantom, his attention riveted upon his work. His hand was flying across the page, leaving words in its wake. Rogue paid no attention to the words or the paper, her focus upon the helmet. Stretching her arms out so that she could pull it off quickly, Rogue was a mere inches away from the Phantom. She could feel the warmth radiate from his body, she could hear breaths pass between his lips. This was the moment of truth. Reaching forward to grasp the helmet, Rogue lunged at her target.
At that moment the Phantom had bent over, going to pick something out of one of the lower drawers on his desk. With his head bent, Rogue's hands flew past the helmet, her fingers snatching at air. She cursed mentally and pulled her hands back, just as the Phantom pulled his head back up.
He had not noticed her attempt to separate him from his helmet. Rogue grinned at her luck, for once it was on her side. She held her breath, not wanting anything to give away this second chance. The Phantom went back to his writing and Rogue made her move. Shooting forward, her hands fastened onto the sides of his helmet and she pulled upwards. The helmet slid easily off of the Phantom's head, revealing his face to the light. Rogue leaned forward to see what he looked like just as his cloak swirled around his face, blocking him off from view.
Rogue had seen more than enough however. She had seen what lay hidden beneath his mask, why he had been forced to hide in shadows. Her fingers numbly held on to the helmet, she was terrified of what she had seen. The Phantom had pulled down his cloak to reveal the left side of his face. His hair was white, almost blindly so. His eye was an ice cold blue, an orb hovering in the midst of his face. The corner of his mouth twitched in anger.
"How dare you!" The Phantom shouted, his voice vibrating through the room. His right hand was holding his cloak up to his face, preventing Rogue from getting another look. He advanced on her menacingly, his face, the part that was visible, had twisting in rage.
"Damn you!" he shouted, his voice shaking with fury. Rogue could give no reply to the cries; she merely backed away from the menacing figure. His eye burned with anger, and he wasn't about to spare any of his rage on Rogue.
"You demon! You viper! How could you!"
Rogue continued to move backward as he continued to move towards her. She continued to back away from him until she felt herself run into the wall, giving her nowhere to run to. He continued to advance on her.
"Do you have any idea what you have done? What you've committed yourself to?" his screeches shook the chamber. He continued forward until he had pinned Rogue against the wall. Fury flowed out of his every pore as he stared at her, trying to hold back his full anger. Then he closed his eyes and turned away from Rogue, taking a few steps away from the girl. He sighed deeply, letting go of his anger.
"Can you understand now? Understand why I am exiled from the world?" the Phantom said, remorse filling his voice. He seemed to regret letting his temper get the best of him. Rogue nodded meekly, unable to give a more verbal reply. The Phantom took no note of her nod, as he remained turned away from her.
"Does it frighten you? Can you bear to ever look at it again? To look at me without thinking about it? Without seeing my ghastly carcass in your mind?" As the Phantom asked his question he turned around, still covering his face, looking at Rogue with hope shinning in his eye.
Rogue saw this, the hope written across his face. Swallowing, Rogue closed her eyes, attempting to block the image of his face from her mind. She nodded once, hoping that she had removed the image from her mind.
"I am not confined by my appearance, just as you are not confined by your powers. We are so alike, you and I. Both of us have so much to overcome in this world so much that stands in our way. Perhaps you will be able to see the man behind this face as I have been able to see the woman behind your skin.
"You fear me now. I know you do. That is unfortunate but not impossible to overcome," the Phantom took a few steps closer to Rogue, his hand grasping hers.
"Fear can turn to love. I know that. I know that you will be able to look past my flesh and see me. Together we will be able to overcome our obstacles. You always feared that your skin would make it impossible for you to love; I feared the same because of my face. But I can love you despite your powers and you can love me despite my face. We were meant to be together Rogue. In each other, we can find what we've always feared we could never have. Love." His piece said, the Phantom turned from Rogue, dropping his cloak from covering his face. Rogue could see that his entire head was covered by the same white hair.
She didn't know what to do, her feelings conflicted. She looked down at the helmet that was being held by her trembling hands. Closing her eyes Rogue took a few steps forward and placed the helmet on the ground at his feet and backed away.
The helmet slowly rose into the air, pulled by a mysterious force, and fitted itself upon the Phantom's head. His face quickly adjusted it and he turned to face Rogue once more, hidden by the helmet once again.
"Come Rogue. We must get you back to the mansion. I dare say that they've missed your presence by now. And the fools who run my school must be worried about losing their greatest student."
***
Jean Grey hadn't realized that anything was wrong until she woke up the next morning.
She had spent all night searching the mansion with the rest of the students, looking for Rogue. Their hunt had proven useless. They had found no trace of the girl, even Professor Xavier's search in Cerebro hadn't yielded any results.
The students had trudged off to bed, worried about the fate of their friend. Jean wished she could have expressed those sympathies but she couldn't. Ever since Rogue had arrived at the mansion Jean had been bothered by her. She couldn't give any reason why. It was just a feeling.
Jean had tried to ignore that feeling, that warning tingle in the back of her mind, and tried to be friendly with Rogue. Her efforts were rebuffed. Try as she might, she was unable to establish a connection with the southern girl. Jean shrugged this off, attributing it to Rogue's untrusting nature. She'd come around eventually. After all who couldn't help but like Jean Grey?
They had hit a bump in the road when Rogue accidentally absorbed Scott. But Jean didn't think that she had been at fault in that event. Yes, she had overreacted a tad. But she had never seen Rogue absorb someone before and it was quite a shock, especially when the absorbed person was Scott. Jean had calmed down and apologized to Rogue afterward, an apology that had been accepted.
Things had been fairly uneventful in their relationship. That is until the Danger Room session. When Rogue had marched up to Logan demanding to fight the rest of the X-Men Jean had been shocked. While Rogue had enormous potential, she didn't possess the firepower necessary to take them on. Despite vocalizing this thought, Rogue still demanded to fight the X-Men. Logan consented and Jean thought that the battle would be quick. It was but the result was not the one she expected. Rogue had taken everyone down, even her. Jean was absolutely mortified. There was no possible way for Rogue to defeat her. Something suspicious was going on, there had to be a logical explanation for Jean's defeat. Perhaps her powers were frizzing out during the battle or something like that.
Whatever the reason Jean had been wary of Rogue ever since. She harbored a suspicion that the southerner was involved in more, and capable of more, than she cared to admit. Jean was sure to keep an eye out for her at all times.
Still that didn't mean she wanted anything bad to happen to her. Jean still cared for her as a person and wished her no ill will. She had searched for the wayward Rogue to the best of her abilities; she simply didn't harbor the same feelings afterwards. Tired from the search, Jean had collapsed into a deep sleep. When she woke the next morning she noticed something was definitely wrong.
Following her usual routine of waking up, Jean turned her gaze to a large picture of Scott that rested by her bed. Jean would kiss the picture then get up and prepare for the rest of the day. However, when she reached over her hand grasped at air. The picture wasn't there. Jean had begun to freak out. She would never move the picture.
Leaping out of bed, Jean noticed that all of her pictures of Scott were missing. A quick search proved that all of the gifts she had received from Scott had vanished as well, jewelry, clothes, and the like. Opening up a secret compartment she had installed into her desk, Jean searched for the love letters that she had exchanged with Scott. They too were gone.
Everything dealing with her boyfriend, everything she treasured was gone. Her green eyes narrowed dangerously. Her precious items were gone and she had a very good idea who was responsible.
Marching out of her room, her red hair trailing in her wake, Jean set about to look for the trio of Bobby, Kurt, and John. She was certain that they had her things. And she was determined to make them pay.
***
Jean marched into the living room, having finally caught up with the elusive trio. She walked into the darkened room, noticing the two large backed, leather chairs that hadn't been there the night before and were facing away from her. Jean's hands clenched into fists.
"I want my things," she growled. There was a soft laughing as one of the chairs turned around, revealing Bobby. He was wearing a suit and had a pipe placed between his lips. His hands were intertwined in an eerie impression of Professor Xavier.
"Ah, Ms. Grey. We've been expecting you," Bobby returned in a thick, fake British accent. The other chair whirled around to reveal Kurt. The furry boy had a monocle over his left eye and was stroking his tail like it was an evil cat. John moved out of the shadows to stand between the two chairs.
"Where are my things?" Jean hissed.
"Your things? Ah, you refer to the trinkets dealing with Mr. Summers," Bobby answered.
"Ve have taken them. You must follow a series of clues, each more mind-boggling and devious than the one before," Kurt said, making German accent thicker so that he would sound evil. John remained silent.
"You've hidden them in Creed's room again, haven't you?" Jean asked, her eyebrow raised. Kurt took his monocle off and polished it against his chest.
"Ordinarily, yes. In this case, no," Kurt said as he replaced the monocle.
"You see we have decided that it is time we should benefit from our schemes. Therefore we have taken your valuables and will return them to you. For a hefty ransom," Bobby said as his pinkie touched the corner of his grin. John gave a slight cackle and Kurt chuckled. Jean simply scowled. This was low, even for them.
"If you do not pay our ransom then ve are prepared to dispose of your goods," Kurt said with a gesture at John, who pulled a lighter out of thin air.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Since you require a demonstration…" Bobby trailed off as he gestured towards John. The pyromaniac grinned delightfully and pulled the photograph of Scott that normally resided by Jean's bed out of his pocket. Before Jean could react, flames leapt from the lighter and onto the picture, burning it beyond recognition. Jean could only watch in horror as the ashes of her picture fell to the floor.
"Alright, what do you want?" The three grinned at her victoriously.
"We consulted a shrink on the matter, about how much physical money can be placed on items of emotional value. We have come up with, as we must say, a rather generous list. Kurt." Kurt produced a list and held it up so that he could read through his monocle.
"For each picture of Scott, you vill pay us five dollars. For each picture of you vith Scott, ten. For each article of clothing, forty. For each piece of jewelry, seventy-five. Und, for each love letter you vill give us one hundred dollars." Jean could only look on aghast.
"According to our calculations you have nineteen pictures of Scott, seven pictures of you and Scott, four articles of clothing, two pieces of jewelry, and eight love letters. If our math is correct, you owe us a grand total of one thousand, two hundred seventy-five dollars," Kurt said with a grin mirrored by the other three. Jean was boiling with rage. They couldn't be blackmailing her for that much.
"I also add that our original estimate was four times as much. So you're getting of quite easy. No complaints Jeanie dear." Jean simply glared at the trio. She began to turn away, her mind set upon telling Professor Xavier about what they had done. Before she left the room, Bobby called out to her.
"One last thing. Tell anyone about this and another one of your items goes up in smoke. Capice?" Jean barely nodded her head before storming out of the room, intent upon getting revenge. The three watched her go before bursting into laughter.
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