Author's Note: Italics signify emphasis, telepathic conversation or the voices in Rogue's head. Thoughts are signified by 'these'.
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Rogue felt as if she was being torn apart on the inside. Some part of her acknowledged that she had fallen to her knees in the lab, clutching her head in an effort to lessen the pain, but she also felt as if she were in every room of the mansion at the same time.
She could feel Jean's pain over not being able to do more for Xavier and Logan, and a lingering fear that had something to do with how much energy Jean had used at the Statue of Liberty. She could feel Cyclops' concern for Jean and his hope for the recovery of the man who was more of a father to him than his own had had the chance to be.
There were a lot of people in the mansion concerned about Xavier, some of them angry with she and Logan for coming into their lives and causing so much trouble. Still others, including Storm, Bobby Drake and the two girls who were her roommates, knew that if Rogue and Wolverine had not been with the X-Men first, Magneto's plan might never have been stopped and a lot of innocent people would be dead.
All of the voices, Rogue was sure there were hundreds of them, suddenly got louder and it was all she could do not to faint. She could feel Xavier's power reaching beyond the borders of the school's grounds and wanted to scream. She could not handle the voices of an entire city. It would kill her.
Stop it, Charles. Hasn't the poor girl been through enough?
The outside voices, the ones she had never touched, faded slightly and the tension in her head eased to where she didn't think it would kill her in the next few minutes.
Plenty, her inner Logan snarled at Erik. And most of it is your fault, bub. You think you can make up for almost killing her by trying to put a leash on Chuck?
Knowing they were each trying to protect her in their own way and thinking they might have a better chance if they weren't fighting each other all the time, Rogue concentrated every last bit of her strength on harnessing Xavier's powers to control all the people in her own mind.
'Both of you stop it', Rogue commanded. 'You both touched me the longest out of anyone, so you're going to be stuck with me. You're a part of me now, and I can't deal with fighting parts of myself and all the lesser voices in here.'
OK, kid.
Of course, my dear. I was simply trying to help.
'I know', she answered him tiredly. Rogue knew she would probably never forgive the real Magneto, that she'd probably try to kill him if given the chance, but hating a part of herself wouldn't help her in any way. 'Thank you, Erik.'
Rogue forced one eye open only to find herself gazing at the cool linoleum floor. She pushed herself up on shaking arms and half-crawled, half-dragged herself to her chair. Burying her aching head in her pillow, Rogue closed her eyes again. But peace was not to be hers, at least not yet.
Why did you do it, Rogue? I would have been more than willing to help you once I woke up. It wasn't right to just take without asking.
'I'm sorry', she sighed. 'I didn't think I could wait. And she said...'
She who, Rogue?
'She...I don't know who she is, I can't dig that deep right now. But she cares about me, and she said... She said you knew something about Logan. I wanted to know it, too.'
Xavier's voice was quiet for a little while. And what gives you the right to know something about Logan before even he knows it?
Rogue whimpered at the heavy disapproval and tried to shrink into a smaller ball. 'I don't know.'
I will help you when I can, but you are to stay out of Logan's business. I will tell him what he needs to know when the time is right.
Rogue let the Xavier in her head think that her silence meant that she agreed. Slowly, much slower than Rogue had expected considering how briefly she had touched him, Xavier's presence faded to the slight but constant hum the lesser voices in her head generally presented. Rogue made a mental note as she attempted once more to rest. The more powerful the mutant, the longer they stick around, even if the touch is brief.
Sleep was elusive, and when it did come, so did the nightmares. It started as a cold, rainy day when a young Erik Lensherr was separated from his parents at Auschwitz. His powers emerged when he realized that his parents, who he desperately loved, were being sent to the gas chamber. Terror, panic and pain ripped through Rogue, and it didn't let up at all when the scene suddeny shifted to a battlefield, also from World War II, this time to watch a friend of Logan's get blown up. Logan's anguish turned into intense physical pain and animalistic terror when the dream shifted to the lab where he was kept when faceless scientists cut him open and wrapped adamantium around his skeleton. Then suddenly she was angry and terrified at the same time, clenching her fists and tearing through anything in her path with her bare claws.
"Rogue! Rogue, stop it!"
She was leaning into someone, one of her small fists digging hard into a firm stomach. A hand on her shoulder shook her, trying to drag her out into the real world. She resisted, swinging her other fist into the offending person's gut with all the strength she could muster.
An "oof" broke through the haze in her mind, waking the voices. Her Inner Logan growled and pushed the others back, but it made her desperate to tear something apart with claws she didn't really have. With an effort she pulled away from Cyclops' slumped form, who if not an outright rival was at the very least competition for the position of Alpha Male. Which would have made her laugh if Logan hadn't been such a strong presence right then that she would almost swear she was male.
"S-sorry, Cyclops," she forced out despite the Wolverine hating apologizing to anyone for anything. "I need... I need to hit something, rip something. I can't..."
Rogue hit her knees, the effort to assert herself over Logan taking what little strength she had.
Cyclops frowned down at her for a minute before suddenly nodding his head. "It's all right, Rogue. You touched him for a long time, I'm sure the Wolverine inside you is very powerful right now."
She whimpered and nodded, glad that he understood.
"Come on," he commanded lightly.
She frowned at him and gave Xavier and Logan concerned glances.
"I've already sent a message to Jean to come watch them for a little while, they'll be fine," he assured her.
Cyclops helped her stand and looped an arm around her waist to lead her down the hall to the elevator. She hated leaving Logan, even if Dr. Grey was coming, but seeing him (and Xavier) made her feel guilty. And the voices seemed to feed on guilt, prodding her with what she had done and constantly making her feel worse. And she supposed she needed rest, though she feared sleep wouldn't help. It would only allow the nightmares back in.
But Cyclops didn't take her up to the residential floor to sleep as she had expected him to, going down a level instead. They got off the elevator and headed for a large metal door much like the one that led to Cerebro.
The Danger Room.
Rogue was surprised for a second that Erik had been the one to identify Cyclops' intended destination. But his memories, and Xavier's, confirmed that Erik knew the entire layout of the mansion since he had helped build most of it. Rogue was impressed. She shivered when Erik and Xavier were proud of her admiration. Weren't any of her thoughts hers alone anymore?
Don't worry about it, kid, we won't tell anyone.
Certainly not, Erik backed up Logan's claim.
Cyclops had led her into a vast, round-walled room and left her standing near the door while he got something from a closet just outside the door. He came back to her and handed her two items. Knives. Throwing knives, from Logan's knowledge.
"I know it's not the same as claws, but..." Cyclops shrugged.
"Thank you, Mr. Summers," Rogue said in her own voice, grateful for the gesture and thought behind it.
Cyclops smiled at her and for just a moment Rogue wondered what his eyes looked like. She knew instinctively they would be kind.
"You're welcome, Rogue. And you can call me Scott."
Rogue nodded, forcing a small smile. The Logan in her head was growling again, trying to be protective of her when Scott couldn't possibly hear him. But she didn't want the X-Men team leader to think she was nuts if she laughed at something in her own head.
"I'll be in the control room." Scott pointed above them to a small room with an observation window. "I'll start at the lowest level since you've never done this and you can decide how far you want to go. To go up a level, just say 'next level' and when you get tired or want to stop say 'terminate program'. You'll just be fighting simulated men."
Rogue nodded her understanding and smirked when Scott turned away. She wasn't going to be able to keep the Wolverine at bay for any longer. She heard Scott leave the room and the doors slide shut behind him.
Just let me handle things, kid.
The Erik in her head made a derisive noise but didn't fight for control, so she handed the mental reins to Logan. She knew he would never physically hurt her, he had thought he was giving his life for hers on the Statue of Liberty. And if she gave him an outlet, maybe the pressure in her head would ease at least a little.
But once the Wolverine started tearing apart holographic and robotic enemies in the Danger Room, advancing ten levels in ten minutes, Rogue forced her way forward. She wanted to learn to fight. If the events of the past few days had taught her anything, it was that even when she was surrounded by people who wanted to protect her, things could go wrong. There would be times when she had to rely on herself alone.
Never.
More than one of the voices had been trying to show their support at the same time, but the thought that they would always be there wasn't comforting. She pushed the frustration away and focused on the moves Logan was using in her body, noting what worked and what fell a little short because of the differences in their physiology. By the time she was on level sixteen, Rogue was beyond exhausted and the Wolverine inside her had calmed considerably. She called a halt to the program and was met at the door a few minutes later by Scott.
"Impressive," Scott commented. "If you hold onto even a part of that ability and skill when things calm down, I'll talk to the Professor about training you to join us when you're a little older."
"I need a beer," something made her grunt.
Scott whipped his head to the side to look at her and for a split second she thought she saw one corner of his mouth quirk up. They walked in silence to the elevator.
On the ride up, Rogue asked softly, "How old?"
Scott shrugged, "I became official after college, so around twenty-one, twenty-two I guess."
Rogue nodded. She had two to three years of waiting then. She wasn't sure she could wait that long to fight for real. And he obviously thought she had even longer to wait than that. But Scott wasn't the right person to explain her lack of a high school diploma to when she told them she was nineteen. As nice as he had just been to her, Xavier was more of an authority figure and Logan was the one she cared about. So one of them would have to be who she confided in first.
They reached the med lab door and Rogue turned to Scott. "Thank you, Scott. There was just..." Rogue spread her gloved fingers in a searching gesture, than lifted one hand to tap the side of her head. "Too much up here."
"Get some rest," he told her kindly.
He walked away and Rogue went into the room. After a quick check on the room's other occupants and a bottle of water for Rogue, Jean left again. Rogue climbed back into her chair. But she didn't allow herself to sleep again. There was still too much going on in her head and she couldn't deal with another nightmare until she knew Logan was going to be okay.