Confined within the unconscious throes of her recent memories, Rogue moaned and writhed on her hospital bed, reliving yet another piece of her ongoing nightmare.

XXX

Her head was thundering like a jackhammer and her entire body burned like she'd just ran a level 10 simulation in the Danger Room. Rogue simply lied quietly for a moment, trying to remember why she felt this way.

She thought of the session she'd had with Logan that morning but, despite the hand-to-hand combat with the metallic-boned leader, she hadn't felt this terrible when she left to go shopping with Kitty.

Shopping… Her brows furrowed together more tightly as she remembered the young teen dragging her all over the mall. She'd been weary when they left to go to the car, but it STILL didn't explain the aching, burning sensation or the massive headache.

So it HAD to be the Danger Room. The real problem was that she couldn't even remember driving home, let alone running such a high level simulation.

Keeping very still to avoid any further pain to her muscles, Rogue tried to recall the last thing she actually COULD remember. They'd been walking to the car… No. They'd GOTTEN to the car. She'd unlocked the doors with the remote. They were talking about Bobby. She'd reached for the door handle and…

She groaned as she rolled slightly only to find her hands wouldn't come up to her face. It was like they were strapped to a Med Bay table or something. She rubbed her cheek against cold metal, but her foggy brain couldn't comprehend WHY it was so cold. Was she on a gurney? Had she gotten hit that hard?

A cough inadvertently forced itself from her throat, eliciting another, louder groan.

"Ah," a strange voice floated back to her ears. "I see our guest is finally waking up."

Guest? Rogue thought. Was there a party? Am I drunk? Alcohol certainly would explain why she was feeling so awful, but it didn't help her remember anything else.

The headache was slowly subsiding as more of her senses started to come alive again. Every so often she would get bumped and jolted as she felt the thrum of an engine under her prone form.

An engine? The X-Jet maybe?

Okay so just where in the sam hill am I? Rogue's disabled brain finally questioned. Despite her throbbing headache, she was going to have to open her eyes to find out.

She slowly cracked one eye open and groaned again as the bright light sent waves of pain radiating through her skull.

"Leviath," the muffled voice called again, "be a good fellow and close the shades for our friend."

Rogue heard a large mass moving closer to her as the sun's light finally faded from her face. With a relieved sigh, she slowly blinked herself to full consciousness…

…Only to discover she would much rather have remained in oblivion.

As she looked up, Rogue made eye contact with a giant of a man who was watching her with almost giddy anticipation. The two stared at each other for a moment until another large jolt bounced her head up off the floor before thudding back against the metal again.

"Oh!" the southerner yelled out as her vision faded to black for a moment.

"Mr. L, please get Ms. Rogue a pillow. We certainly don't want her concussed." Rogue finally deduced that the raspy, low voice was coming from the front end of what was likely a van. She opened her eyes again to watch the behemoth of a man who was in the back with her as he rummaged around for a pillow. While he was busy, she took advantage of checking out her surroundings.

She was definitely in a vehicle. It appeared to be a newer model of utility van with an extremely long back end for equipment. She could see two windows on either side of the front seats and was barely able to make out the back of a man's black, greasy-looking head sitting in the driver's seat.

Rogue was startled from her observations by a massive hand lifting her head up to place a small cushion under it.

Instead of a thank you, however, she narrowed her eyes at the large man suspiciously. When she tried to speak, she found her voice grated like sandpaper and her mouth was akin to a desert.

She coughed, trying to produce some saliva, and the large man shifted once more before producing a small water bottle. Ever so gently, he guided her upward with one hand behind her back and brought the plastic bottle to her lips.

Rogue chugged the fluid greedily. The cold water was so refreshing to her parched throat that she almost moaned when it was removed and she was laid back down.

"Who," she finally rasped, "Who are you?"

It was silent for a moment – the big guy just continued staring happily down at her without saying a word.

"I am Gaspion," the man in the front finally responded. "And that lovable brute is called Leviath."

Rogue tried once again to pull her hands up her face but failed. Every time she tried to move them upwards she was met with resistance.

"And what exactly is going on here? Why am Ah tied up?" Rogue's voice was slowly returning to normal and she made no effort to hide the contempt in it.

"Well," Gaspion explained sympathetically, "I'm afraid you've been kidnapped."

Rogue cocked an eyebrow as she stared at the man's head. "Why exactly am Ah bein' kidnapped?" she asked as she looked around for a way of escape.

Gaspion sighed. "Sadly, it has very little to do with you and more for the benefit of a… mutual friend. You see, one of your teammates owes me a considerable debt and I intend to use you to collect on it."

"Ah see," Rogue acknowledged as she tried to find the limitations of her hands. She noticed that she could move them around quite a bit so long as they were behind her, but she had no luck getting them past the front of her hip bones. What was more, and perhaps BETTER, was that she had no gloves.

This was going to be a walk in the park.

She cleared her throat as she quickly formulated a plan. The side door seemed to be unlocked and was less than two feet away – just past Leviath.

"Well, thanks for the ride boys, but ah'm afraid I've got other places t' be." With that she pushed back on her hands, propelling herself forward and further away from Leviath. The giant made a hasty grab and ended up on his face just in front of her. With one hand centered behind her back, Rogue was able to bring the other forward just far enough to reach down and touch the giant's bald head.

Nothing happened.

Rogue inhaled sharply as the startling discovery hit her, but she had no time to dwell on the thought as Leviath recovered and quickly grabbed for her ankles.

She felt his meaty paw grasp the bare part of her flesh just above her sneaker, and she quickly lashed out with the other foot, connecting with the side of his face. It was just enough of a blow to loosen his grip and she quickly rolled across his back to the door. With her hands still bound behind her, Rogue leaned sideways and tugged the door open, taking a deep breath before she attempted to jump from the quickly moving vehicle.

Adrenaline pumping, she calculated her trajectory and just as she started to dive sideways out the door, she was yanked back inside by something around her neck.

The left part of Rogue's face slammed into the metal wall of the van, and she nearly blacked out again as she heard the door quickly slide shut and lock. The sudden pressure to her wind pipe left her gasping and wheezing for air and she looked up at Leviath to find him holding a sort of dog leash. She could now feel the wide collar around her neck and nearly smacked herself for not noticing it before.

"I'm afraid this is the ONLY place you have to be at the moment, Ms. Rogue," Gaspion chuckled as he turned toward the girl. "As you can see, we've taken the liberty of relieving you of your powers. Of course, it's only temporary … for now. We still have a ways to travel, however, so you may as well get comfortable."

From her collapsed position against the side of the van, she felt Leviath's meaty hands grab her shoulders and force her down onto the floor.

"No!" she shouted, trying to scream. She knew what would inevitably come once they reached the warehouse. The warehouse, and that room, and that mattress with the blood –her blood – that they'd rip from her body when they …

"NOOO!" screaming out in pain and terror, Rogue bolted up in bed, her eyes wide and her body nearly convulsing from the pain she was eliciting just by being upright.

"Whoa, whoa, easy cherie, easy," a gentle, smooth, and calming voice cut through the fog of her latest nightmarish memory.

Rogue's gaze finally focused on two strong, but gentle hands connected not to grotesque, meaty arms, but slender, toned, and tanned ones that were coaxing her back against the mattress.

"Easy petite. You're safe now."

Rogue dragged her eyes up to meet Gambit's gaze and was instantly draw in to his red on black eyes. She felt her fear slowly ease away even as she struggled to remember why those eyes seemed so comforting and familiar.

Confusion marred her features for another moment before recognition finally set in. "Oh thank gawd! Y'r alright!"

Leaning back a hair, Gambit smirked down at the Southerner. "I t'ink maybe you were worried about me, non?"

Relief instantly morphed to fury as Rogue narrowed her eyes at the thief and she smacked his arms away with the back of her hand. "What in the Sam Hell were you tryin' t' pull ya maniac?"

Remy took a step back, his right hand reflexively coming up to cover his left shoulder. It was then that Rogue finally noticed the sling and heavy bandaging around the man's left side. Biting her lip and cringing for a moment, she forced a glare onto her face once more and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Ya coulda been killed!. Ya'll had no right t' interfere – ya shoulda gotten outta there when ya had a chance!"

Raising an eyebrow, the Cajun scoffed. "Well now, Gambit wasn't 'xpectin' a thank you kiss, but a simple Merci, woulda been nice. Surely wasn't expectin' a LECTURE f'r savin' yer life!"

With a roll of her eyes, Rogue turned away from her new bunkmate and muttered a quick, "Thanks," under her breath.

Gambit leaned in closer from his stance near the left side of her bed and grinned. "Come again? Didn't quite hear ya."

"Ah said, Thank you! Alright?" she sighed and finally met his gaze. Her expression and tone spoke of irritation, but there was something in the way she looked at him that seemed to soften her words.

"Now see, dat wasn't so hard was it?" He smirked and sat gingerly at the edge of her bed near her hip, disregarding the sudden uneasiness he could feel rolling off her.

She shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing about his proximity, or her wariness of him. Instead, she took what passed as a deep breath and examined the bandages on his left shoulder.

"So," she asked after a pregnant pause, "What's the damage?"

Shifting so he could face her better, Remy shrugged with his good arm. "Eh. Rod went straigh' t'rough. Under d' clavicle and out d' back side 'tween d' scapula and d' spine. Just knicked a lung."

He heard Rogue's quick intake of air and smiled broadly. "Don' worry y'r pretty head, Cherie. Your Doctor McCoy does good work. Fixed Gambit up good. He jus' wants Gambit t' hang around f'r a spell t' make sure he don't overexert himself."

Gambit made sure to lean in close and whisper his last few words huskily, but he was surprised by the mixed reaction he received. He could tell she was slightly amused by his antics because of the scoff and subsequent eye roll, but he also felt her shudder with disgust and apprehension at the same time.

She was a conundrum this one.

He backed off and stood, sauntering over to recline casually on his own bed next to hers. "You, ma chere, are in just as bad o' shape as moi." He stared at the ceiling as he spoke, pretending not to notice her look of interest. "Probl'y worse."

Before she could question him however, he held up his right hand and started ticking off her injuries. "Five broken ribs, hairline fracture to d' right fibula-dat's y'r lower leg-, severe strain to d' right shoulder, reopening o' some other wounds - didn't hear where - and a moderate concussion."

He finally glanced over at her and smiled, waggling his eyebrows at her for good measure. "Looks like we be roommates for a while, Cherie."

"Oh GOODIE!" she remarked sarcastically, flopping back against her pillow and wincing. Then she smiled slightly and sat up again. "At least I have my Morphine!" She went to depress the button so she could get some rest and ignore Gambit properly when she heard him chuckle.

"Sorry, chere, not any more. McCoy deep sixed lots o' your drugs 'cause of de concussion. Can't have ya out and unresponsive wit' dat kind of head injury. You be lucky dere's no internal bleeding."

He grinned like the cat who caught the proverbial canary and leaned up to depress a button on his own IV, which Rogue hadn't noticed was even there before. She'd been so focused on his proximity to her and her own discomfort that she had failed to notice quite a few things actually.

Like that he didn't have a shirt on.

Or that he was incredibly well toned and tanned.

He spoke again before she had time to take stock of anything else, or analyze the knot in her stomach over such disgusting thoughts right after she had just been…

"Gambit, on de other hand, gets ALL d' Morphine he wants."

She couldn't help the sound of indignation that came from her throat as she gaped at him.

"D' ya mind keepin' it down cherie? Gambit's tryin' t' sleep." With a self-satisfied smirk, he lifted his right arm above his head to tuck it beneath his neck and shifted slightly as he found a comfortable position.

Rogue narrowed her eyes at him and turned her attention to the wall. For a moment she considered turning on the television – with the volume at full blast of course – but quickly thought better of it. While she was pretty darn sure he was just trying to goad a reaction out of her, she would let him sleep if he truly wanted it.

He HAD saved her life after all…

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