One by One the Souls Will Take You Over

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. The title is a line from a song called  'And Don't Forget To Breathe' by A Static Lullaby. I also do not own Crawling by Linkin Park.

Summary: This is a different story that is set in a parallel universe-mainly focusing on Rogue and Gambit, set after the end of the second season. Rogue never joined the x-men, in fact she has never has meet them instead she joined the Acolytes. Romyness eventually. Note: rogue has a different past in this story. It will be explained as the story continues.

Author's Note: Sorry I was late updating, however, stupid me forgot that this weekend was Easter weekend, and therefore I had no time to update. Also my dad decided to take over the computer with his whole AH, THE TAXES ARE DUE SOON!! AHHH!!! craze. Lol

Important: Rogue's whole Kick-ass attitude will be back next chapter, however, she is all by herself, and I needed to unhardened her exterior a little so I could add this part to the plot. Besides, with the past I cooked up for Rogue, I think anyone would show a little weakness if they're alone once and awhile. But never fear, I hate weak rogue so that really would be happening in this story that much. I included a song into this chapter, however this is a rare occurrence, and will most likely not happen again, I was just listening to the song while I was writing that part of the story and therefore decided to add in some of the lines from the song, not the entire thing.

thought Telepathic conversations

Chapter Four: Dreams of the Past

Piotr had given her the tour of the entire place. There was a gym, a library, which surprisingly held a good amount of books, an eating area and a kitchen, where a Piotr reminded her numerous times, John was never allowed alone in it for fear he would burn down the place. In fact, when at all possible, you were to never leave John to his own devices.

Piotr had led her to her own room, which happened to be in the same wing as all of the other boy's bedrooms. Note ta self, buy a better lock. For once, the walls weren't made of metal in her room, though Rogue had a shrewd suspicion that under all the dry wall was some more metal. The was a queen sized bed, with her bags on top of it, in the center of the wall across from the door, along with a night stand on either side. On the wall to the left of the bed was several shelves about five feet off the ground with a desk and chair underneath them. On the opposite was there were two doors. One door led to a decent sized closet, while the other housed a small bathroom complete with not only a sink and toilet, but also a tub, with a showerhead. Well, at least ah can take a proper bath. An' on the plus side, ah ain't sharin', an' all the room really needs is a coat of paint.

Rogue unzipped her bag and silently placed a few personal items around the room. Two books were placed on the shelves, Tithe, and Queen of Damned, along with a small statue of the Goddess Hecate. She placed a small laptop (or notebook computer thing…. whatever you want to call it) on the desk, along with a small cd player. She didn't even bother unpacking the rest, instead just throwing the bags into the closet.

Rogue changed quickly into her pajamas, hoping to get some sleep before the 7 a.m. training session Piotr had mentioned earlier. She climbed silently into bed. Quietly to herself, Rogue prayed for an uneventful sleep, but how often does a Rogue's pray get answered?

****Dream****

It was cold, but then it always was here. She lay scrunched up into a tiny ball in the corner of their cell with only a moth eaten blanket to keep her warm. There was cot attached to one of the walls, however she liked to save it for him.

She shivered slightly, hoping he would come back soon, but she had learned long ago not to trust hope in this forsaken place. Sometimes he would be gone for days before they finally brought him back. But whenever he did come back, she'd be awake. He always needed her to take care of him at first.

She stayed in her corner for what seemed like hours. In the dark, no sound could be heard except for the distant screams of people she once knew. Sometimes she'd fool herself into thinking it was him screaming, just so that she'd know if he was still alive or not. But that was al she was doing, fooling herself. He had told her long ago, he would never give them the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

Slowly a new sound could be heard, the growing sound of distant footsteps getting closer. Steadily she dragged herself closer to the door, anticipating what would happen next. She heard the click of the door being unlocked, and the predictable light, that came flooding in, blinded her. She could just make out the sneers on the guards' faces as they dumped a man into the cell. She spit on them, before turning to examine the man before her. One of the guards cursed, since the salvia had hit him in the face. He didn't raise his hand to hit her though, as he would have done to any other prison that had dared to do that. They all were forbidden to even touch her, let alone hit her. She had heard them talking about it before. She was too special to be damaged by some angry guard. She was the only one who had survived, so she wasn't to be harmed. The only guard who even dared to disobey this rule had been killed in front of her, his blood splattered across her face. He said it was a good thing that they weren't allowed to touch her. There was much more a guard could to break your spirit then anything the others did to you.

As the guards shut the door, she let her eyes become once again adjusted to the darkness in their cell, just listening to his slow rhythmic breathing. She slowly began to see the blood that riddled his body. Some of it was new, shinny and red, while other patches were dried, still stuck to his skin. There weren't any cut though, there never were.

The girl slowly rolled and dragged him towards the cot, sometimes having to throw all of the weight of her tiny frame against his, to get him to more a couple of inches. Finally she managed to place him onto the dirt-ridden mattress. She dipped a corner of her blanket into the limited amount of water within the toilet bowl, and as she slowly began to dab away the blood, she hummed a nameless tune.

****End Dream****

Rogue awoke in a cold sweat. Getting up slowly she made her way towards the bathroom, grabbing the CD player along the way. With shaking hands she turned the shower tap on, and stripped off her damp clothing. Pressing the play button, she cautiously stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wipe away any evidence of her dream. The first few cords of the song 'Crawling', by Linkin Park, blared though the small speakers. She ran her hands through her hair and down her body. She stopped at her stomach, slowly tracing three tiny vertical scars all in a line. It was the only scar she ever had. It never went away, sometimes it seemed to stay there just to spite her and remind her of his betrayal.

crawling in my skin
these wounds they will not heal
fear is how I fall
confusing what is real

Rogue quickly pushed such thoughts out of her head. Thoughts like that could get her killed. It was easier to bury everything, even the people in her head. But things don't like to stay buried. Rogue knew that all too well. At least once a day on of the souls trapped within her mind raised up and fought for control.

there's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
consuming/confusing
this lack of self-control I fear is never ending
controlling/I can't seem

But they never won, ever. She didn't allow it, couldn't allow it. Once again banishing her thoughts from her head, she turned off the water, and got out of the shower. She raised her hand, using it to wipe away the steam from the mirror. She stared at her reflection, trying to find even a trace of a girl she should be. Only cold, hard emerald eyes stared back at her, set in a porcelain white face, which showed no trace of emotion.

 
discomfort, endlessly has pulled itself upon me
distracting/reacting
against my will I stand beside my own reflection
it's haunting how I can't seem...

to find myself again
my walls are closing in
(without a sense of confidence and I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
so insecure

Her hair was soaked, causing water droplets to run down her body. Sighing, she tried her self with a towel, wrapped it around her body, and walked out of the room. Training awaited.
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Fun, another chapter done! Anyways, thank you all for reviewing, and please continue to do so. I'll try and get the next chapter up within a week, but I am starting up work again so I am not sure. Also, to make a few things clear, yes Rogue does have a past with Logan. However in order to find out what it is exactly, you will just have to keep on reading. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA (how else am I supposed to ensure that you will continue to read my story?) anyways, once again thank you sooo much for your reviews, and please review again! (I feel like I work at a fast food place, lol)

Side Note: Hecate was the Greek Goddess of Magic, Moon and Night, Ruler of Ghosts, and the Underworld Goddess.