"Ah'm home!" Rogue's voice echoed brightly through the quiet house. There was a moment's silence before Ororo stepped out of the kitchen, hands still covered in soap-bubbles from the washing up she had been doing, her face grim.
"You are not welcome here, Rogue. You have no idea what pain you've caused." Rogue's smile drooped.
"Everyone was agreeing with mah decision last time Ah was here."
"The decision to leave my brother behind on that ice?" Storm nearly spat.
"I thought he was already dead!" She stormed, facing down the weather witch.
"Was that while you were carrying him through the air, or after you dropped him."
"I… I never carried him anywhere…" A look of confusion set in on Rogue's face, and Storn began feeling the first stirrings of doubt. "He was thrown from the building in that blast. He was just lying there in the snow…" Pity rose up in Storm like a flower blooming, and she was suddenly angry at Remy. lies? deceit? Had he been lying to them all? DECEIT A whisper of hate. Just enough to spark the flame.
"He's been manipulating us! It's that empathy of his… manipulating…" Lost in her own thoughts, emotions conflicting and confused, Ororo wandered away.
o
o
Rogue stopped in the hallway on the way to Remy's room. There was someone in there… She had already come across Hank and Bobby, and they had been as easy to divert as Ororo had been. Warren she hadn't needed to say anything, he had all but welcomed her into the house with open arms. Scott and Jean had been together and that had made her task more difficult, but she had left Scott watching over his wife's unconscious form, Remy's blame firmly ingrained in his mind. She knocked softly on Remy's door, a soft smile fixed on her face. The room was dark inside when she pushed the door open but two red dots stared out at her.
"Remy, I was looking for you!" She called. The dots shifted and the light was switched on revealing a girl with a great resemblance to Remy. Rogue's mind went through all kinds of scenarios which most normal people would not have considered - they were the X-men after all, and very little was unexpected these days - before she remembered that Remy had a sister. She hadn't expected her to look quite so much like him though. "Yah Remy's sister, raight? Liza?"
"Alisa." Alisa corrected with a smile. She had no reason to mistrust this person who she had never met, holding out a hand to shake hers. Rogue looked at the hand blankly for a moment before taking it in a tentative grip.
"Ah'm Rogue."
"Ooooh, YOU'RE Rogue." Alisa exclaimed gleefully. "Mah broder has tol' me so much about y'. I was wonderin' why I din' meet y' aroun' th' house."
"Did no one…" Rogue stuttered to a stop, her tactics changing quite suddenly. "Ah had ta get away from everything, when I thought Remy had died… I thought I was gonna die mahself." She put on a miserable look and let pity seep into that young mind. "I saw him thrown from the wreckage and…"
"You're… lying." The words soft, hesitant. It had only taken a glance into her mind, though Alisa's powers were still new and unpractised, the memories she could access with a thought were lying right there on the surface. And one in particular was calling for attention, on the edge of Rogue's consciousness, unshielded. A man lying in the snow, hand outstretched towards her, pleading, begging, asking for redemption. "Oh, Remy."
"Brat." A low hiss in reply. The blow was unexpected - coming not from hand or fist but from the mind, throwing her thoughts into chaos, making her stumble backwards as she fought to force shields up over her own confusion. She found a wall at her back and using it as a physical support as she brought her mind back to order. She locked her eyes on Rogue.
"Those powers aren't yours. You shouldn't have them."
"I don't want them! It's his fault they're here." With a gesture she ripped the shields wide open and emptied every ounce of fear and insecurity she could find into that brave and innocent mind. She watched as Alisa crumpled to the ground whimpering, eyes glazed. "They sure are fun though." Her mind in turmoil, Alisa automatically lashed out at the threat, her telekinesis lifting Rogue and hurling her away.
"Yah little…" At her side again in a moment, a heavy fist threw Alisa physically against the wall and she slumped to the ground unconscious.
"That wasn't very nice, Rogue." She whirled at Betsy's voice at her back. "I always knew you were going to break one day." She sighed. Rogue stepped forwards with a feral grin that Logan would have envied.
"Remy dreamt about doing this to yah, once." Betsy frowned.
"Doing wh…" The purple haired mutant dropped to her knees, her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream.
o
o
"Remy, Hank wants you in the Medilab." Jean's voice echoed over the intercom of the danger room, clicking off before he could reply. Worried about Alisa, Remy hurried towards the door of the danger room.
He stretched his hands slowly as he wandered out of the danger room, feeling the extra twinge in his right that reminded him that it was only just healed. Using carefully measured footsteps, he knew when he came level with Hank's door and reached out to find the doorframe under his hand. The first few times he'd done this he'd been so sure of his knowledge of the lower levels of the house that he hadn't bothered to reach for the doorframe first, just tried to walk through it. He quickly learned that one's pace is never exactly the same length as the time before, and a small difference could mean the world of pain and embarrassment. The pain he could happily live with if it meant he could avoid the other. For a proud soul there is no better teacher.
"Henri?" He asked as he walked inside. Silence answered him. "Doc? Alisa?" When there was still no reply he settled down in a chair to wait for the doctor, knowing he was probably caught up on the upper levels of the house.
Bored after a few long minutes, Remy went searching for the finger strength exerciser that Hank used to judge his progress. It consisted of two bars with thick springs between them that fit in the palm of your hand.
He grabbed a metal table with a tray on top of it quickly as he knocked into it, stopping it from rattling to the ground and righting it carefully. He had his own exerciser in his room, but he couldn't be bothered to go all the way upstairs to get it. There was also the knowledge that the mansion would be at its busiest at this time of day and he had been avoiding the others as best he could for the last few weeks.
He swore as his knees hit the mechanisms of a medical bed, a pace lost in his collision with the table, and turned to put his back to it, thinking through the layout of the lab and where the exerciser had been last time he was here. He'd been playing with it while he sat on the bed and Hank took his blood pressure… He sat down on the bed to jog his memory. Hank had taken it off of him and there had been a metallic noise as he put it down… Sliding back off the bed, Remy reached out for the tray he had knocked earlier. He put his hand on the top carefully, aware that there might be sharp things on it and tried to identify what was under his hand. Stethoscope, blood pressure cuff, tape, scissors… ah… yes. He grinned as his hand settled on the small device, lifting it off of the table and making his way back into the office and the plastic chair where he had been waiting earlier.
The door to the lift slid open even as he settled into the chair, and he tossed the exerciser on the desk in mock-disgust. Just when he was getting comfy…
He listened for Hank's feet making their way from the lift, even though he knew he'd never be able to hear those silent and padded steps. The medilab was the nearest door to the lift and to the entrance of the corridor to the hanger, to allow the fastest possible treatment for injured cases. He didn't have to wait long before he could feel another person in the room with him. He did have to wait for some response to his presence. Getting impatient, and wondering how Hank had missed him, Remy stood.
"Henri? Jean said y'…"
"Not Hank, sugar. Just me." His eyes automatically snapped up to the position of that voice - a little higher than it should be, she was flying - and he tried to stutter out a reply.
"Rogue… cher. Y' bin gone a while."
"What did they do to yah eyes?" An absent question in response. Mixed emotions flowed through Remy, fighting for precedence. You did this to my eyes. You did this to me.
"Dey're jus' contacts cher. Still me un'erneat'." A gloved hand on his cheek and it took every inch of self-control he had not to flinch away from that touch. Where was Hank?
"What did you do to mah head, Remy?" The tackiness of Rogue's gloves registered suddenly, with that quiet question. The undercurrent of hatred hit Remy like a brick wall, making him stumble back into the chair. He pulled himself back upright, knowing that whatever was happening, he needed to face it on his feet.
"Din't do anyt'in' t' y' head, cher. Got m' shields up strong."
"You gave yourself to me willingly, without any force. You would have given your mind to me a hundred times over. Maybe that's why it stayed." There was desperation in that voice, strangled, panicky desperation.
"What stayed, Cher? Tell me what's wrong and maybe we can fix this."
"Fix it? No, there's no fixing this now. You did this to me, and you have to pay for it. That's all there is!" Rogue's emotions were getting more and more scattered as she fought to get her message across.
"Gently, gently. I don' know what I've done, Rogue. You can't punish me for something I don't know about."
"You LEFT me with it. Haunting me. In my mind."
"I don't…"
"The EMPATHY. It didn't go away! It never goes away…" There were tears in her eyes, and Remy's heart broke for her, remembering when his own power had turned against him.
"You can fight this, Rogue. You can take control. The shields…"
"Don't talk to me about shields. I don't want any pitiful barriers. I want you out of my head." And she was driving a spike into his mind, a vicious empathic spike between his eyes until his thoughts numbed.
She knew where to target, how to breach his shields, how to use dangerously manipulative powers against another. She knew what he had known all his life. His own potential. And she was living it.
Dark, deep, dreadful despair rose up in him, swallowing his heart and tightening his throat. His power – still open to the room so that he could keep track of Rogue – was thrown out of control as his mind was overloaded, and his surroundings exploded in bursts of pink light, flaming debris raining down on the two of them. Again and again until there was no more left in him to give and his mind closed in on its self.
And she drove it, pushing it higher, harder, faster. Until every moment of darkness he had ever felt, ever harboured, ever hidden, gripped at that mind, tearing it apart from the inside. Those shields were strong, so strong, and yet what cannot get in… cannot get out.
Perhaps there was a click. Something… it felt like there should have been some external acknowledgement of the damage that had just been done. Does a tree falling where no one can hear it…
Remy screamed, short and pained, falling to his knees on the cold floor as he gripped at his head and tried to keep the broken thing from exploding out. Awareness closed around him, narrowing down to one point in his mind where he held himself intact. He knew nothing of the grim smile and casual disgust that taunted him, as Rogue turned and left the room, locking the door behind her.