I do not own X-Men: Evolution and/or Marvel in any way, shape, or form. Please do not sue, for it will inevitably just be a waste of time and money in trying to find a suitable legal representative. Thank you.
Sentiment
Mr. McCoy, extremely relieved, smiled broadly and relaxed his hunched shoulders. He pulled down Rogue's hospital gown and grabbed his clipboard, scribbling down a few notes on her medical chart. He patted her hand, saying, "Well, my dear, I am happy to say that those contractions of yours are nothing serious... You have not dilated, nor are you effaced. The babies are looking quite well. Everything is as it should be." Beast sat down on the wheeling stool beside her cot and began taking her blood pressure.
Rogue sat up, ripping off the cuff that was cutting off her circulation. "Wait." She scrunched up her face, a thing she did often when she was deep in thought or confused. "What do ya mean?" she asked. "Then what's happenin'?"
"They were only Braxton Hicks contractions... fake contractions, if you will. Now, please..." He picked the cuff off the ground and wrapped it back around her arm.
She winced at the pressure on her limb.
"But," he continued, hesitant of the subject he was approaching and about to discuss with her, especially with her in a nonsensical mind as of late. "I think we should place you on modified, monitored bed rest. All of your activity and the added fact that you are carrying three fetuses just makes you more of a risk for pre-term labor."
The words slipped off her tongue, venomous. "No."
"Rogue," he said, wagging a finger at her. "Let's think about this for a moment, shall we? You should really consider this. With your condition and-"
"No, Mistuh McCoy." Her voice was firm and unwavering. She rose from the bed and put on her normal, civilian clothing. "Ah'm already a vegetating couch potato as it is. Ah don't want ta be anymore of one." She slipped her socks and shoes on, the warmth returning to her freezing toes. Rogue turned and picked up her car keys from the end table. "Ah know where ya comin' from... Ya only want what's best for me, but Ah can't. Ah mean, what 'bout school? What'll ah do? Be bored outta mah skull lahke Jamie-not bein' able ta be free?" She shook her head. "Ah appreciate ya concern, but Ah'm an adult. And Ah know this sounds immature, but frankly, ya can't make meh... And Ah'm not gonna."
"These are your babies," he agreed, his expression sorrowful. "And it is your body, of course. But as your physician and mentor, I strongly recommend it, Rogue. The chances-"
She interrupted again. "The chances are low, Ah know. But Ah've done mah research. Ah've never read more books in mah life, just to prepare mahself for the moments ahead. Some women are just fahne and never had ta go on bedrest." She made her way towards the door, her bag slung over her shoulder, and turned to face him. "And Ah'm a healthy, eighteen-year-old who believes she's one of those women who'll make it. Ah know ya're worried and everythin', but Ah promise ya, Ah'll be careful."
"Yes, but..."
"But nothin'. Now, excuse meh. Ah've got school tamorrow."
-
Mr. Jenkins, the new art teacher at Bayville High, stood in front of the class, explaining their new project. "Your assignment," he started, "is to create a portrait. In layman's terms, that means I want you to draw a pretty picture-like the ones on Mommy's refrigerator, okay?... People, people, it can be of anything; of yourself, a friend, a significant other, a tree, or even your imaginary friend from the second grade! I want to see life through your own eyes-get to know the real you! The beauty, the horror, the ugliness in yourself or others! I want to see your insides-your soul, your feelings-put into this picture!
"What an eccentric," Rogue mumbled, doodling in her notebook.
"You only get one piece of paper since the school district is cutting back on expenses this year. Make sure to do a rough draft first so you don't waste!" He circled the room, passing out the 11"x8" paper to all the students. "Now, no profanity, people. I want to see your ideas, not your hormone raging minds! This will be due Friday, as soon as you walk into class!"
The bell rang. Kids slung their backpacks on and headed out the door and into the heavy hallway traffic.
Rogue was knocked between students, dragged along in the horde of hungry teens cramming themselves into the undersized cafeteria. She finally made it to her usual lunch table and opened up a plain, brown paper bag. Ever since her anemia attack, Beast had made it his responsibility to make her lunches, packing foods that would give her the proper nutrition she needed. Today's meal consisted of hardboiled eggs, slices of turkey lunch meat, toasted bagels, and a can of mango juice.
She was just about to take a bite of the bagel smeared in cream cheese when a crumpled ball of paper flew across the lunchroom and landed in her hair. She reached up and picked out the penetrating piece of parchment and opened it. She bit her lip, as the inside was covered in giant, cut out letters from magazines and such, reading: SaVe HuMAn KInD! MUties haVInG BABies! MOre OF theIr KINd, LESs of OUrS! SavE huMAN KinD. Underneath that was a small "P.S." message. It said: We'll find you. Your spawn will never be safe.
Rogue ripped it into shreds, letting the bits fall to the floor and float out the door with the mighty gusts of wind.
She couldn't take it anymore... the receiving hate mail daily, being a human dartboard for verbal attacks like this, a gossip priority-"the no-touchie girl who's preggers." The southerner dropped her food into the trash and darted down the deserted hallways and into the bathroom where she locked herself in a stall. She lowered the toilet lid and sat down, grabbing her notebook and beginning to let all her feelings out on the paper.
When lunch was finally over and she heard the footsteps of others coming towards her, she flushed the toilet, just incase some one was coming in, and took a look at her artwork. She was pleasantly pleased.
- I left it there because I can't think of anymore to write without it becoming worse! Ai, I have major writer's block-the reason for why I didn't update in so long! Also, my computer kept crashing which was extremely irritating. I am so sorry. Don't shoot the author (or is that the messenger?)! Anyways, hoped ya guys liked it. It was kind of a filler chapter, but I tried to make it interesting. Sorry if I let you down. So, Rogue is not having the babies... yet. :D And Remy? Well, he'll come into play soon. You can choose what she drew. I can't really think of anything, so I'll let that be your choice. And, before I forget, I want to thank all of you who inspired me and told me to get to writing! Thanks, and please review! xmengirlzrule -
