Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters; they are all Marvel's property...
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Prisoners of the Heart
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A/N: This is an AU storysetafter the events of "Self-Possessed." Rogue awakens while chained in a shadowed cell with her memories hazyand her mind foggy. After the many mutants in Bayville learn of her latest episode and her current fraility, many believe they can protect heror save her, while others are starving for the intensity and control of her growing powers. As shestruggles with the darkness around her and within her, unbeknownst to Rogue, a certain Cajun is willing to bend all the rules and stretch all trusts and alliances, no matter the cost, soas long as her pain is taken away. For Remy LeBeau knows love can be painful, as can betrayal,but he has yet to discover how muchhis heart can endure for the Untouchable...and how powerless two Southerners are against a love impossible to deny...
Enjoy!
ChapterOne: Prisoner of the Dark
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The rattling of chains awakened her and darkness greeted her, followed by a dull ache in her head and icy air prickling her face. Her hair fell in front of her face, but she was unable to swipe the stark white bangs away. Her head hurt too much to shake, and the bangs stayed, draped over her face.
Not that she could see anyways.
The room stank, not foul-worthy enough to merit a gag of repulsion, but enough to make her recoil in disgust. Dank and dreary was what she thought of, maybe a sewer. She hoped it wasn't sewer smells, which would mean concrete labyrinths, over-sized rats, and slimy rivers galore. Her eyes had yet to adjust to the dark, and her snow-color bangs continued to obscure what little sight she had gained. And her head pounded. Her back ached. The list could go on and on.
Where am Ah?
Unlike the discomforts of her current space and wandering mind, something else entered her mind and stirred her into quivers. She was familiar with it enough, even before the night long ago, back home in Mississippi, when her life had changed at an innocent dance. She felt that sensation, back when she danced with poor Cody the football player, and she felt it now, certainly not the second time in her life. But still, she felt it, stranded in the darkness, blind and injured…Fear. Confusion. Disbelief.
Rogue was afraid.
Worse, she was alone, and hardly anything good could come from being alone, especially bound by chains-----those frightened her the most. You don't just get chains wrapped around your wrists accidentally. Someone wanted her here, wherever here was, of course. The darkness made her uneasy, the cold made her uncomfortable, and the stony floor beneath her made her butt hurt.
But the rattling of the chains meant someone was out there, out there watching her, or waiting for her, and her mind was too fuzzy at the moment to recollect if she'd been kidnapped. Living with the X-men prepared her for such a discovery; far worse things had occurred lately.
There's too many of them!
Her head dropped into her hands. Despite the weariness that had recently settled into her bones, Rogue was at least somewhat grateful that she was too numb to feel the total impact of the situation.
Kidnapped. Chains. Can't remember…
After another minute, her eyes adjusted enough to make out the form of thin, closely-spaced bars trapping her in what was most likely a cell. Rogue groaned, kicked at the cell bars, and almost sprained her ankle. She squealed and fell on her side, withering because the floor felt so cold and slimy.
Kidnapped…
The prospect was still settling in her fragile mind, falling through the cracks each time she tried to grasp it. She felt torn from the inside, severed and shattered, as if her mind was in pieces and unable to function properly. Worse, echoes in her head began to surface, riddling her spine with chills.
You're lettin' them push you around. The Rogue I know wouldn't take that offa anyone.
"Logan?"
Pain fluttered in her skull, driving her into a slump against the stone wall behind her. She rested her chin on her chest, eyes closed, knuckles throbbing. Burning under her skin…
Memories had yet to reveal themselves, but the veil masking them from her was very thin. Rogue sensed the burning in her hands and understood what it indicated. Fear was unraveling her slowly, methodically, peeling away her layers of thick skin and toughness and leaving her susceptible to things far darker. Herself. Fear was universal and multi-faceted, a shape-shifter in itself-----
If you have my memories then you know our relationship…Search your memories. You are my daughter…
Betrayal wore black leather over blue skin with fiery red hair. For some reason, Rogue's skin crawled, and in the dark, and since she was unable to see, her imagination conspired against her with a picture of her paled flesh morphing into blue skin. Her stomach clenched and her head spun.
"What is goin' on in mah head?"
Thankfully, she was still alone. At the moment, Rogue felt enough trouble dealing with herself, her powers, without the psycho who chained her up further complicating matters.
There's too many of them!
There's something about betrayal…
Who your true friends are…I have no friends!
For all the voices surging through her head as company, Rogue still managed to slide farther into the dark loneliness of her new home. She was so tired…
"Ah guess it's true that misery loves company." As draining as the voices were, they were still tiny tethers to people she truly cared about, people who cared about her…At least, most of the voices were…
The X-Men would be looking for her, no doubt. Soon, or maybe they'd already started. Nobody kidnaps a mutant, especially a disturbed, fatigued mutant just released out of the Med Bay-----yes, she was staring to recover some memories, as fragmented and hollow as they were-----without the whole team going bonkers. That thought comforted her, knowing that her disappearance would not go unnoticed, that it would anger and enrage and frighten those close to her.
Rogue only hoped she could survive long enough to see the cavalry arrive…She was starting to have to pee…
The shadows mocked her predicament.
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He listens to her sweet voice when she speaks. Her beautiful face is regrettably hidden in the shadows, but her sultry drawl lifts his spirits and fuels desires long uncovered but yet attended to. He knows she will put up a good fight, as she is one of the toughest femmes he's ever encounter. Certainly one of the most dangerous. He believes that kisses can be fatal, but this femme packs a wallop of truth behind her succulent lips. He dislikes the fact that she is uncomfortable, but if she were sitting right in front of him, liberated, her hands would no doubt be around his neck, stunning him into unconsciousness before her strangling attempt could have any affect. They are enemies, of course. For now, at least. He wants this to change, and can't help but imagine what other games she will play with him. He is afraid that, even though she is far from fragile, this femme could be broken. She was already scarred and disturbed, and probably stabbed in the back enough to mar her trust of almost anyone. So he waits, impatiently, leaning back in a foldout metallic chair, rubbing his chin as he watches her. He grows increasingly restless. He waits not by his rules, but by another's. This ticks him off, but the payoff is big, in the form of an unpredictable woman in need of a mate who can both comfort her and charm her. Their first encounter had been explosive, and he's been watching her since, studying her lovely little eccentricities and her admirable fortitude for all that she's been through and all that she is. She is perfect for him in his eyes and he will not let her escape. They will have to work on the whole touching factor, though…
"Remy gonna take real nice care of you, chere. Don' you worry."
He smiles and picks up his lady luck, the queen of hearts, from the table next to him. As it glows in a mesmerizing flare, he imagines that it is Rogue's dazzling face within the dancing kinetic energy. He grins and the charged card lights up his unnatural eye color for only the darkness to see.
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"She sure ain't movin' around much, Chuck."
"Logan, if I recall, she did only leave the Med Lab yesterday. Give her some time, she'll come around."
Scoffing, Logan said, "Probably tryin' to avoid my training sessions."
"Possibly. That would explain why everyone around here seems to be "over-sleeping" lately."
"Bunch of lazy ass teens. Wouldn't know hard work if it hit 'em in the face and kicked 'em when they fell." Logan said, smirking as he closed Rogue's bedroom door.
"I always knew you had such a way with children, Logan."
As the door closed shut behind Logan and the Professor, the sun began to set outside, behind the tips of the surrounding forest, and an auburn-white head lay peacefully on the pillow, snuggled in the bed closest to the window. Rogue rolled onto her side, pulled on the bed sheets, and as the sun continued to dip into the horizon, a small frown formed on her lips as she began to dream.
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-fathoms-
