Flowerperson, Turquoise, Freak 87, Totally Obsessed47, enchantedlight, Blackrougefillie--I hope I don't disappoint any of you with how I plan for the story to unwind. The plot only gets better from here on out. So much stuff is going to happen...I'm actually getting the excited shivers just thinking about it. God, I love writing.
Ms. Rogue LeBeau: you won't be disappointed ishandahalf: interesting theories and observations concerning Rogue and Gambit Karakin: yes, they are perfect for each other and if any problems do come up, email me. Wouldn't want to deny a fan the product! Sweety8587: Your concern is touching--the "didn't take much cajolin'" line was jerksih huh? And don't worry, all the questions will be answered in due time Pyro-Panda: Dannii, interesting spelling. I'm glad you noticed how I tried to keep Rogue in character. Too often have I seen her resort to a puddle of mush over Remy and I just cannot see her behaving that way, considering her hard personality!
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He didn't sleep well that night. The ghostly woman haunted his subconscious, teased and taunted him. She said he was the first to get away from her clutches. She said he would be the one she'd keep after she was done with the others. He tried to run away from her, tried to fight her, but she was ever vigilant, ever escaping his attacks. She was not as frightening in his dreams for he could almost feel that there was something wrong with her. He got the feeling this was not a choice; her actions were not a choice, but a need. But then again, Wraith was a vampire mutant after all. When he finally awoke it was in the middle of the night and he was cold. He got up to close the window.
Damn, he thought, all dis 'cause o' one stupid job.
If Remy could take back Theodore Farrat's offer, he would. He looked up, a thought occurring to him. He still had the bottle of medicine. Amongst everything that was happening he'd forgotten he'd managed to steal it. He grabbed his trench coat and felt around the pockets. He pulled out the bottle, rolled it around in his palm. It contained nearly six fluid ounces of sedative. Powerful stuff, by the looks of it. Why would a rich man like Theodore Farrat need a thief to steal some drugs? Why not buy some off or pull some strings to get it? The thoughts never occurred to Remy before, and now he grew suspicious.
Offered a handsome sum fo'it, too, he remembered. Why, why, why... He never asked why, because it didn't matter. As long as he delivered he was paid and in the end, nothing else made a difference. Farrat could have wanted a biological weapon and Remy would not have known.
He slipped the bottle into one of the zipper pockets and sat down on his bed. He would take it to Farrat once he was well enough. Remy felt the bandages around his torso, ran his fingers along the tender wounds. Julien and his boys beat him up pretty bad. They never would have done such a job if he hadn't been attacked by the ghost-girl. Everything ended the moment he was knocked in the head, the moment he fell unconscious. There was no more pain...why? Why did the ghost not continue to suck him dry?
Maybe she couldn't, he thought. Maybe y'need t'be awake...a mind dat's active for her powers t'work... He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He did not enjoy analyzing arcane things. Still, his explanation was better than no explanation at all. And what had Rogue meant about the personalities in her head "knowing she was there"? Was it by the same reason he could see the specter while nobody else could? It had gotten in his head after all, that night he was attacked. Maybe that was why he could see her, maybe for the same reason Rogue's psyches could predict her presence...
None o' dis makes sense, he thought in frustration. It was all a play on his mind. Not to mention Rogue's strange behavior whenever she was around him. He had meant what he said; he had planned on cajoling her to get on her good side. But all he ever accomplished was getting the brush off every time he got close enough to think he'd progressed. The girl was a strange one, despite her untouchable state. Women never hesitated to fall for him--it was his charm and allure. But this girl, this Rogue, she was a harder nut to crack. She acted like she didn't care...which was absolutely unheard of for Remy LeBeau. But he'd find a way to get around her iciness, sooner or later. Where was the fun if it was too easy?
All he knew, as he climbed back into the bed, was he needed to find Julien and pay him back for the ambush. Once I'm well, Boudreaux, once I'm well...
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"Pietro, Fred, and Todd left town last night," Wanda was telling them the next morning. She looked strange wearing some of Rogue's dark clothes; everyone was used to seeing her in scarlet garb. Her hair was untidy as well, sticking in different spiky directions. She looked more punk than gothic as she sat at the table, sipping her coffee. "After what happened to Lance, they were so freaked they couldn't stick around, all thinking they'd be next. What a team, huh?" She rolled her eyes then frowned, "I really don't think it was a good idea for your professor to leave...I mean, look what happened to that girl...what was her name?"
"Is, is--vhy are you using past tense?" Kurt scowled. "Rahne's going to be fine. She's just in a coma. But she'll vake up. You'll see." He stabbed at his cold, uneaten eggs.
Nobody spoke much during breakfast. The usual frantic buzz of the morning had died to slow mumbles and hardly audible greetings. Heavy foreboding could not be denied as everyone wondered the same thing: who's next? Who would share Rahne's fate? It also did not help that Scott continuously shot the house guest distrustful scowls throughout the slow meal. Remy would only leer at Jean in turn, infuriating the X-Men leader. Beast walked into the somber kitchen wearing his glasses and lab coat. He looked as though he had been up since early morning. As he poured himself a large mug of coffee, he glanced at the students.
"Cheer up, kids," he said lightly. "They'll figure all this out in Austria and everything will be fine. Believe me, the Professor has stopped Wraith once, he can do it again." His reassuring words helped a bit to settle everyone's nerves. With a small smile he left to return to his work.
Tabitha suddenly slammed her hand on the table, causing everybody to jump. "He's right! We shouldn't be moping around like it's the end of the world. We need some serious distraction--we gotta get outta this mansion. All this is driving me crazy and makin' me wanna blow something up." She rubbed her hands together, exciting a few cherry bombs in her palms.
"Tabby's right," Jean said with an affirmative nod. "What do you guys want to do this afternoon?" Her question received no reply.
"Hey, Cajun," Tabitha called down the table. "You seem like a guy who gets around." She smirked at the few snickers that were expelled and rolled her eyes at Scott's father-like scowl. "Got any ideas?"
"Sure I do, cherie," he drawled, "but I don' t'ink y'all old 'nough."
Tabitha's rebellious nature was sparked, "Hey, nothing we X-Men can't handle. Know of a nightclub or somethin'? Strip club?"
"Tabitha!" Jean exclaimed. The boys grinned.
"Why don't we just see a movie?" Scott suddenly said. "That'll take up at least two hours of the afternoon and then you guys can figure out what you want to do later." When he didn't hear any objections, aside from Tabitha's annoyed groan, he nodded, "All right, it's decided."
Kitty sighed and stood from the table, "Sorry guys, but I'm like, not really feeling up for it today." She left the kitchen, no doubt heading for the Infirmary.
"Dat fille's really into de earthquake kid, neh?" Remy asked Jubilee.
She sat across from him, subtly admiring the swells and dips of his face. She enjoyed the fact that he'd asked her. "Oh, yeah, I mean, they broke up and I'm still a little cloudy as to who called it off, but she's still into him. It's kind of sad really because I don't really understand why they didn't work out. They seemed to really like each other and..." She broke off when she noticed he was no longer looking at her. Following his gaze, she saw what had caught his attention.
Rogue walked in, looking slightly bedraggled with unbrushed hair. She wore a grey T-shirt and black terry cloth pants and was not without her dark violet make-up.
"Morning, sis," Kurt called.
"Hey," she yawned. "How's Rahne?"
"Same, still in a coma," Kurt replied.
Rogue nodded. She grabbed a bagel from the counter, smeared cream cheese over it, and turned to leave. Her eyes caught the Cajun's for a second before she hurriedly left.
Jubilee frowned at the obvious exchange, but she couldn't help asking. "You into her or something?"
Remy smirked, "Depends what y'mean by 'into her', p'tite." He ignored Scott's glare from the other end of the table.
"Do you like her?" Jubilee rephrased. She raised an eyebrow and returned his smirk with one of her own. "You two are always so...oh, how to describe it...there's this unresolved tension and it was so obvious yesterday at the fountain with that weird bantering thing. It's like you guys are--"
"Don' even say't, cherie," Remy cut her off with curt a laugh. "Ain't nothin' go'n' on b'tween de river rat an' me. Jus' curious is all--but can't even be dat. She as cold as ice."
"Can't argue with that," Jubilee snorted.
Remy sighed, "Real pity," and received another withering scowl from Scott.
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Rogue tore at her bagel while she walked towards the monitor room. Why did he have to look at her like that? She didn't want to remember last night or how she had let him touch her. She never let anybody touch her. She especially hated how she had acted weak and scared in front of him. She never let anybody see that side; she buried it along with the other things she didn't like about herself.
Biting angrily into the bagel, she entered the planning room intent on researching Patricia Velkonnen. She turned towards the large-screened computer but saw Mr. McCoy already in the chair. He had pulled up several of Cerebro's files on the screen, as well as an Internet connection to a news channel. The rectangular window sat in the upper-right hand corner of the computer screen, a reporter by the name of Trish Tilby spouting away about recent events.
"The phantom mutant predator claims another victim this morning," the reporter was saying. "Fifteen year old mutant Lorna Danes was put into a deep coma at seven-thirty AM while on her way to summer camp. Her electro-magnetic abilities could not save her from the attack." The reporter disappeared as two girls caught the camera's attention.
"We couldn't see what was doing it!" a girl shrilled through teary eyes. "It was like an invisible ghost or something--and she kept screaming like she was so scared. I don't care that she's a mutant--she was my friend and nobody deserves that kinda torture!"
Trish Tilby's voice-over projected, "Some people, however, have different opinions."
A middle aged man stood on the corner of a busy street as the camera focused on him, "If ye ask me, I say those goddamn muties deserve it! Somebody's finally puttin' them where they belong. Good riddance."
"Rogue," Mr. McCoy said, surprised. He turned around in his chair, saw the expression on her face. "Yes, quite disturbing, isn't it? At least we know that not all people are so ignorant. Like this Trish Tilby. She is probably one of the most objective journalists out there, not a single hint of anti-mutantism in her reports."
Rogue hefted herself up onto the counter and dangled her legs. "Wraith claims another one," she mumbled.
Mr. McCoy had returned to the computer screen, "So it may seem...though I do not believe Wraith herself is responsible for these attacks. She has kept a very low profile over the years, if she is even still alive. And the Professor even said that Cerebro had not picked up on her mental signature, even whilst the attacks were occurring."
"Wait a minute, Ah thought Cerebro could find any mutant when they were usin' their powers," Rogue said.
"Technically, that is true," Mr. McCoy said. "Cerebro did not detect Patricia Velkonnen's specific signature, but it did pick up on one that was similar. Problem is, that signature was isolated, not belonging to any physical individual. It was our predator, that is certain, but the predator did not have a brain for the signature to be radiating from--it was simply alone. I cannot say why that is possible. It is almost as if this thing is..."
"A ghost," Rogue said for him. She looked at him expectantly, wanting him to say she was wrong. How were they supposed to fight some demon that couldn't be seen?
Mr. McCoy shrugged, "That is a possible explanation, though it lacks scientific merit. But there is something called astral projection. I have known a few cases where telepaths may project a semblance--or image, if you will--of themselves to do things and reach places where their bodies may not..." He scratched his chin thoughtfully before looking back at the computer screen. "That would explain why the mental signature was isolated. The astral projection is an individual in and of itself, floating in free space."
Rogue noticed then that he had pulled many files on Patricia Velkonnen, along with several on her husband. "Can't imagine living her life," she murmured, and looked at her gloved hands.
Mr. McCoy's large fingers swept over the computer keys. He uncovered airport records and boat manifestos, running cross references and searches with the name Velkonnen. "Hmm, curious," he said. "It seems like no one under the name of Patricia Velkonnen has ever set foot in the States, though she could have easily come in a private jet or under an alias... Still..."
"Wait a minute," Rogue interrupted, frowning in bewilderment. "If Cerebro didn't pick up on her mental whatever, doesn't that mean Wraith's not here? Doesn't that mean she's not the one doing all this?"
The blue beast continued to stroke his furry chin, "That is a possibility, but when dealing with mutants, and one that might be a strong telepath, not everything can be read through black and white. The cerebral signatures detected were not specific to Patricia Velkonnen, but they were similar. I must look into this further."
Rogue shook her head, "What if the Professor went to Austria on a wild goose chase?"
"The Count knows of their arrival. He will speak with them and offer any information he can. After finding out his wife was a murderous mutant, he was quite devastated, as you can imagine. Don't worry, Rogue," Mr. McCoy said. He put a hand on her shoulder. "The Professor, Logan, and Storm will figure all this out. In the meantime, don't worry about it. After all, worrying really doesn't accomplish anything."
Rogue nodded. As she turned to leave she asked over her shoulder, "Do me a favor, Mr. McCoy? If ya come up with anything new about this Velkonnen woman, tell me?"
"Happy to oblige."
Rogue left the planning room, massaging her head. The voices had been stirring that morning but were not completely awake. Rogue hoped they wouldn't give her too much trouble, especially without the Professor present to subdue them. She didn't like the idea of having to run to Jean for help.
After taking a few painkillers she went upstairs to change. She had felt so tired and lazy this morning she hadn't bothered earlier. As she walked into the room, she found Kitty lying in bed, back turned. Thinking she was asleep, Rogue moved around carefully. She pulled off her T-shirt and traded it for a black tank. Then she put on a black mesh top to keep her skin from being exposed. Only when she was brushing out her hair did she realize her roommate was making sniffling noises.
"Kitty?" Rogue set her brush down and approached the pink-sheeted bed. "Kitty, what's wrong?"
The brunette shook her head, burying her face in the pillow.
Rogue considered just leaving her, but knew that was the wrong thing to do. She was not good at comforting people. "It's about Lance, huh," she said, eyes downcast. "Ah'm sure the Professor will find this Wraith woman and stop her. Then--"
"Then what, Rogue?" Kitty suddenly exclaimed, popping up and exposing her watery eyes. "How will they wake him up?" She hiccupped from the sobs. "I mean, it's not like--like you can just stop the attacker and all the victims will magically be better. And some of them--some of them have died..." She shook her head, burying her face in her hands.
Rogue reached out for Kitty but pulled her hand back. "Ah don't know what to say, Kit." Her eyes widened in surprise when Kitty threw herself against her, burying her face in her chest and crying. Rogue grimaced but then made herself hug Kitty back. She found it nice to be comforting a friend in need, one who wasn't afraid of her skin.
"What if he dies, Rogue?" Kitty gasped. "What if they don't get back in time and Lance--Lance..." She shook her head and fought to control herself. "We left things badly when we broke up! I never got a chance to say...say how I was..." She continued to sob.
"Don't think about that," Rogue said softly. "It's not gonna help any."
Kitty drew in a shaky breath as she whispered, "None of us are safe. None of us. We can't stop this thing, whatever it is. It's like a ghost and it'll just take us when we least expect and we won't be able to stop it. Rahne was just, like, fine and joking around with Bobby when she started screaming. We can't stop this. It's not safe anymore...God, I'm so scared, Rogue. Rogue, aren't you scared?"
Rogue swallowed, "Yeah, Kit, Ah am." But deep down, deep in her mind where the psyches were reeling with fear, something was telling her not to be afraid. An instinct in her gut told her she could fight this. She just needed to know how, when, and who.
A sharp knocking at their door startled them. Rogue patted Kitty on the shoulder and went to open it. She frowned at the worried expression on Bobby Drake's face. "What is it?"
"Mr. McCoy said to get Kitty," Bobby told her. "Her parents are coming to pick her up, along with Rahne's, Jubilee's, Roberto's, Jamie's, Sam's, Ray's--oh, and mine."
Kitty wiped at her face and came to the door, not caring that anyone saw her. "My parents are coming?"
Rogue frowned at Bobby, putting a hand on her hip, "Why?"
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Over the course of the day Mr. McCoy greeted parents in the foyer of the Institute. When they saw their kids they clutched them close, looking them over as if worried about abuse. All of them had already met Hank McCoy and were not afraid of his appearance, though they did regard him warily when he spoke.
"I can assure you all is being done to amend the situation," he told them. "The Institute is a highly secured facility. You will find no safer place for your children."
Mr. Pryde looked around the manor in worry. "I have no doubt about the security of the school," he said, "but this is a mutant predator and if Kitty is around a bunch of mutants, that only increases the possibility of her being...targeted." He shuddered at the thought. "No hard feelings, Dr. McCoy. I've seen the news. We all have and we don't believe it's safe anymore here."
After Rahne's parents had been informed of what happened to her, they were eager to move her to a different care facility. Word spread quickly and now the X-Men were diminishing in numbers.
Rogue sat at the foot of the stairs, watching the parents take her friends away. One by one throughout the morning and afternoon they left. She had said her good-byes and now didn't know what to feel. She couldn't deny how much she would miss them, despite all the times she didn't like how crowded the mansion was.
As the last of the parents left, Mr. McCoy closed the door with a long sigh. Kurt leaned against the wall, scuffing the floor with his furry foot. His parents were in Germany; they did not know about what was happening in Bayville. Amara was a princess of Nova Roma; that remote land did not have the means of knowing what occurred in the outside world. As for Scott, Wanda, and Tabitha, they had no family to worry about them. Jean was a lawful adult and was under no obligation to succumb to her parent's demands of returning home. Rogue was glad she stayed, despite herself. Jean was a source of clarity and stability, no matter how much she disliked her. And Rogue, well, Mystique was not about to come knocking.
She cocked her head in Remy's direction, where he stood leaning against the wall shuffling a deck of cards. She wondered if his family would worry about him. Jean-Luc was not the best father-figure, but he had to care even a little about his adopted son. Remy felt her gaze and turned to look at her. He winked and she rolled her eyes, wondering how he could be still be audacious at a time like this.
"Well, X-Men," Mr. McCoy said, "I guess it's just us."
"Vhat's going to happen now?" Kurt asked nervously.
Mr. McCoy put a comforting paw on his shoulder, "We keep at, my young blue friend. Didn't you guys plan a movie this morning?"
Tabitha, always filled with energy, clapped her hands together. "Yeah, let's go. God knows I could use the distraction right now. Who's coming?" She looked around, forcing a cheery smile. She finally wrapped an arm around Amara's slumped shoulders and gave the girl a squeeze, "Come on, it'll be good for you."
The former princess nodded but said nothing. She was still haunted by Rahne's attack.
"Just give me a few minutes to freshen up," Jean said.
"Why ever for, cherie?" Remy asked, looking her up and down. "Y'look tres belle."
Jean blushed though she tried to act unaffected. Scott glared at Remy, "Hey, do you ever quit it?"
"Give me a good reason to, Shades, an' I will," Remy replied easily.
Scott frowned, clenching his fist. "Oh, I'll give you one all right," he said, stalking towards him. "I am so sick of you hitting on my girlfriend."
"Scott," Jean called, frowning worriedly. "He's just playing. It's not--"
"Yes, it is," he cut her off. He stood in front of Remy, coolly glaring behind his rose quartz glasses. "He thinks he can waltz in here and do whatever, like he wasn't an Acolyte. I don't care that Magneto's gone, this punk is still the enemy and he's got some scheme in mind, I can tell."
Rogue was growing more and more frustrated by the moment. She didn't understand why Scott disliked Gambit so much or why Gambit enjoyed messing with him. Her head was pounding, the psyches irritated from her discomfort. She hugged herself tightly, clenching her eyes shut.
Remy continued idly shuffling, "I ain't doin' any spying for ol' bucket head."
"Like hell you aren't," Scott spat. "Why else would you be here? You're well enough to leave--and don't give me any of that crap about how your side hurts or how you need Hank to examine you. You've got some hidden agenda--but hey, once a thief always a thief right? You're probably sticking around trying to find some vault where the Professor keeps the real goods."
Remy stopped shuffling and turned to glare at him. "I don' see what your problem is, homme, but if y'wanna pick a fight, I'm game." He held up a card, charged it. It glowed menacingly in his hand.
Shut up, shut up, Rogue thought, holding the sides of her head. She wanted everyone to stop fighting. She wanted the Professor, Logan, and Storm to be home. She wanted Patricia Velkonnen to leave her psyches alone. She missed Kitty already. The voices were screaming louder than ever, feeling her frustration, anger, and sadness. She felt them rumbling inside, felt the psyche of one in particular, who especially missed Kitty and who was angry at being in a coma.
"Boys," Mr. McCoy said forcefully. "This is not the time or place. We have enough to deal with already."
"He shouldn't be here, Hank," Scott said. "You know I'm right. We can't trust some thief who'd work for a fanatic like Magneto." His hand rested precariously on his glasses, ready to lift them for an optic blast. "Get out."
"Make me," Remy challenged.
Scott stepped closer, ready to lift his glasses. "You are so going to be--"
"Stop it!"
The ground began to rumble, the walls of the manor shaking. The hanging lights above vibrated haphazardly and flickered with disturbance to the wires. Remy uncharged his card and Scott stepped away as all eyes turned to Rogue. She stood with her hands clenched at her sides, face focused on the floor.
"Rogue," Mr. McCoy called, trying to stay balanced. "Rogue, you have to stop this--can you hear me?"
Suddenly her head snapped up, her green eyes wide and fearful as the trembling ground began to shake dangerously. "She's coming!" she breathed gutturally. "She's coming for us! She'll never stop! She's a vampire--a monster--like her!" She jabbed a finger at herself.
"Chere," Remy approached.
She slapped his hands away, "Stay away from her! She'll drain you like she did us! She's poisonous! She's evil!" Rogue clutched her head painfully, "Oh, the other one is coming. She'll take us! She'll feed off of us!" She stumbled sideways, shaking her head violently as the floor began to crack. "We won't be ripped away again! It'll kill us!"
"Rogue!" Kurt called. "Somebody help her! Jean, do something!"
Jean levitated off the ground, focusing her telepathy on Rogue, calling out to her mentally: Rogue, fight them. You have control. It's your mind. It's-- She gasped and fell to the trembling floor, shaking her head. "She pushed me out," she said.
Rogue suddenly collapsed and the shaking ceased as Avalanche's pysche weakened. Breath jagged, she curled up into a ball, still holding her head. She squelched the urge to whimper. It had happened again. They had obtained control, if only for a moment. Hands pulled her gently up and she sagged against his chest, burying her face within the folds of shirt. Yes, this was comfort. This was what she needed more than anything right now.
Remy picked her up off the floor as Mr. McCoy approached and felt her pulse. "Her heart is racing," he informed them. "Remy, take her to the Infirmary where I can run a check up on her, please."
Rogue felt so tired. All she wanted was to sleep. She pulled at the shirt, trying to get closer to the warmth. But they had to know. They had to know what she knew. "She's here," she murmured.
"What chere?" Remy asked, tilting his head down closer to her. "What'd y'say?" But Rogue was no longer awake. She didn't hear the screaming when it started.
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HATE to leave you guys like this, but, it's a necessary evil. Maybe it'll give you all a little feel about what the X-Men are going through--Who's next? Who's going to be the next victim?
Questions? Comments? Review and I'll answer!
Next Chapter: Empathy
Thanks for reading!
---Raven