II.

An hour had gone by. Xavier had at last convinced Logan to rest. Physically, he knew, Wolverine was quite fine, but the mind beneath the adamantium skull was strained from his brush with Rogue's power. But since Rogue absorbed a small measure of Logan's healing ability, the energy radiating from her skin had begun to ebb and flow like waves of heat. Xavier had decided that, during a window of low energy, he would try again to enter Rogue's unconscious mind. Her condition now seemed a bit more stable, though she gave no outward sign of improvement. Perhaps it was the healing ability at work, or Xavier's mental probes; he did not know. He was driven by an intuition that once the cause was found, the cure could be found also.

The key now was to get Rogue's mind to fight. He was almost sure that whatever had happened was affecting her mentally. But he was not quite positive. Further probing would confirm that hypothesis, but he had to be extremely careful. It was like a delicate operation on the brain, and his telepathic scalpel could easily slip, causing even more damage than whatever happened to Rogue in the first place.

Xavier suddenly sensed that the energy levels around Rogue had dipped significantly. Working quickly, for he knew he did not have much time, Xavier covered his fingers with a strip of terry cloth and again rested them on Rogue's brow. Closing his eyes, he concentrated.

White lights. Blue-tiled floors. Blank walls. A hospital. Rogue sat with Scott and Jean in the waiting room. Having regained her senses and then standing for several indecisive moments beside the crumpled form of Zachary Carson, she finally made up her mind. She had spotted Scott and Jean on the path as she ran back toward the school. They must have known from the look on her face that something was wrong. But it had not been their idea to take Zachary to the hospital. A few students overheard Rogue's hurried but vague explanation, and one of them had taken it upon herself to fetch the school nurse. The woman found the threesome minutes later, on the sidewalk where Zachary lay.

"Let's get this boy to the hospital," the nurse said firmly, taking charge.

"No, that's really not necessary," Jean began to protest. "He'll be fi—,"

"How do you know that?" demanded the nurse, a short, stocky woman with brown hair. The threesome suddenly realized they could give no explanation. There was no chance of further arguing. It was decided. The school found Zachary's home phone number and called his parents. An ambulance arrived to take the boy to the hospital. His mother and father arrived at the ER soon after.

Scott had decided that he, Rogue, and Jean should go as well. They knew that Zachary would be fine. "But we need to know what he remembers," Scott intoned, his hands clenching the steering wheel of his red sports car. "If he remembers what happened, Jean might need to erase part of his memory."

"Really, Rogue," Jean chided, "you know better than to take your gloves off in public."

"Ah wasn't in public!" Rogue protested. "There was no one else around!"

"Jean's right," Scott reprimanded. "Anytime you're somewhere you could potentially run into someone, you need to keep those gloves on."

"You try it sometime," Rogue muttered, simmering. She made no further protests and remained sullenly silent for the remainder of the ride.

They had stayed in the waiting room for what seemed eons. Soon Zachary's parents, escorted by a doctor, joined them. "We need to run some scans," the doctor told them. "But it looks like heat exhaustion. He over-exerted himself and passed out, most likely. It's an unusually warm day. After a long, cold winter, it can be a shock to the system. Worst case scenario, he'll wake up with a bad headache."

'Well,' thought Rogue gloomily, 'they're right about the headache.'

Zachary's parents spotted Rogue. "You're the girl who found him?"

"Well Ah, that is, yeah, kinda," she stammered.

"Thank you!" cried his mother, suddenly embracing her and holding her tight. "Thank you. You're an angel."

'Oh if she knew the truth…Ah'm just glad Ah rolled my sleeves down again. Good thing it's cold in here.' Aloud she mumbled, "It was nothin', really. Anyone woulda' done the same."

"Well, I'm just glad you were there," his mother said. "You did the right thing."

Jean and Scott exchanged a glance, and Jean closed her eyes. Her face went blank. When she opened her eyes and said they could go, Rogue was relieved. She endured a parting shower of gratitude from Mrs. Carson before finally taking her leave with Scott and Jean. Thankfully the two spared her form further lectures on her recklessness.

'Ah wish Ah'd been sick today,' she thought angrily. 'All because of a stupid pencil. What a mess.'

It was late afternoon before the threesome made it back to the institute. Scott pulled through the wrought-iron gates and up the long drive. Rogue stepped from Scott's car as soon as it stopped in front of the mansion and walked up the steps. In the glass doors, she could see Scott and Jean reflected. Scott came to Jean's door and opened it for her. She smiled up at him and stood. Scott smiled back as he wrapped his arm about her waist and pulled her to himself.

Rogue sneered to herself. 'They're in a good enough mood.' Scott and Jean's reflection disappeared as the opened the front door and let herself in. 'Yeah, you enjoy that physical-contact business,' she mocked. 'Never-mahnd that some of us can't.' One of us, she corrected herself.

In the room she shared with Kitty Pryde, Rogue sulked over some homework. But she found it hard to concentrate. Her day at school had put her in a sour mood, and absorbing Zachary's memories had cluttered her mind. It was like trying to do makeup in a broken mirror. Fragmented thoughts and shards of disjointed recollections kept Rogue from thinking clearly. She was certain she had read the first paragraph of chapter 7 in Geology at least a dozen times without retaining a word.

With a sigh Rogue snapped the book shut and reached for her math homework. The pages caught on something as she pulled them from her bag, and she clenched her teeth as she tried to free them. Frustration welled up inside of her. She gave the papers an angry yank. Rrrrrip! One of the pages tore across the middle. Rogue fairly roared with anger at herself and the stupid, loose pages that bent and crumpled as soon as they were tucked inside her knapsack. She slammed the sheets onto her desk and clawed her hair away from her face, fuming. 'Calm down,' she thought. 'Breathe. Calm down. It's okay. Just tape it together.'

Still trembling with frustrated rage, Rogue reached for the tape and carefully taped the page back together. 'There. Good as new.' She picked up her pencil, a green one; she had thrown the pencil Zachary returned into her bag and hoped to never see it again, at least not for a long time. 'Now…concentrate.' Math was not her forte, and the equations took all of her concentration, distracting her from the embittered feelings. The contents of Zachary's mind began to fade into the background with all the rest.

At length someone knocked on the door. "Rogue," came Kurt's voice, "are you coming to dinner?"

Rogue imagined sitting around the table with all the other students and hearing about her mishap yet again. Surely Scott and Jean had told the professor; he would have another lecture for her, in front of everyone. Her temper simmered.

"No. Ah'm not hungry."

"Ach, not hungry?" Kurt exclaimed. "You can't be serious! I'm starving! Come on, everyone is waiting."

Rogue closed her eyes. 'Don't take it out on Kurt, don't take it out on Kurt, don't take it out—,"

"They should thank me," she snapped, "for staying in mah room, where Ah won't accidentally put everyone in a coma."

Kurt was silent. Then he answered softly, gently, "If you're feeling down about the no-touching thing…" He paused. "Well, I know how you feel, having to be careful around people. But we all understand. Just come down to dinner, won't you? They'll all be mad at me if I go back without you."

'He doesn't know.' Rogue felt chastened yet again. "All right," she mumbled. "Ah'll come." Stewing, she opened the door and took the stair as Nightcrawler teleported to the dining room.

At the table she avoided meeting anyone's gaze and did not contribute the mealtime conversation. Instead she picked at her food and tried to forget about her day. She couldn't help but wonder why Scott and Jean had not mentioned the incident to Professor X. Could it be they were covering for her? No; that did not seem likely. The most probably explanation was that the Professor already knew and kindly decided not to humiliate her further. Whatever the case, Rogue was glad that it did not come up during the meal. Surely, though, he would speak to her afterward.

Somehow Rogue managed to finish the pasta with white sauce on her plate and nibbled her way through dessert. Her mood improved with the nourishment, and she was able to smile once or twice at humorous turns in conversation. Even so, she needed space and time to herself to simmer down completely. The thought of school the next day was no comfort.

The meal over and dishes cleared, Rogue was on her way to the kitchen to help with cleanup when Professor Xavier stopped her. "Rogue," he called in a low voice, "may I speak with you?"

'Ah knew it,' she thought. 'Here comes Lecture Number 3.' She gave a shame-faced nod and followed him out of the dining room and to his study.

"Scott and Jean told me about today," Charles began. "I have no doubt that Zachary will be fine. I'm sure he will suffer no ill effects from today's little incident at school."

Rogue just nodded, not meeting his eyes. She folded her arms and leaned back in the chair across from the Professor.

"Do you want to talk about today?" Professor X suggested.

"What's there to talk about?" Rogue muttered. "Ah made a stupid mistake. Scott and Jean were right. Ah was reckless to take off my gloves and think that it would be okay for even just a minute!" She stopped, trying to rein in her temper. But it was no use. "Ah'm so sick of this!" she exploded. "Ah have to be all covered up everywhere Ah go, no matter what Ah do! And people notice! You can't hardly wear gloves every day of your dumb life without people startin' to wonder! What must they think of me? Ah can't get close to people even if Ah want to in case they accidentally touch me, like today, and Ah'm tired of it! Ah'm tired of my stupid useless power, and not being able to control it!" She broke off, in tears, and buried her face in her gloved hands. "It's not mah fault!"

"No," said Professor Charles. "Of course it's not. It's very hard to deal with a power that you cannot control. Take Scott, for instance. Or Nightcrawler with his image-inducer. But that's why you are here, Rogue. Not just to learn to use your power and perhaps control it one day, but to be with others like you, who understand what it's like to keep their distance from people. You are with us so that we can be here for you."

Rogue sniffed and blinked back her tears. "Ah know," she choked. "Ah know that's why Ah'm here. But it's still hard, even at the Institute." She paused, and added negatively, "Somehow Ah doubt anyone here really understands what it's like."

"We all have our burdens—,"

'"Burden" is right,' Rogue thought—

"—and that's why we all support each other." Professor Xavier gave Rogue a regarding look. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better," Rogue mumbled. "A little. Can Ah go now?"

"Of course."

Rogue stalked out of Xavier's study and meandered up to her room. Maybe if she turned in early and brought this day to a close at last…yes, that's what she would do. Surely tomorrow would be better; people would have forgotten about the incident. It would be a normal day. She could mind her own business as she usually did and try her best to go unnoticed.

In her room, Rogue changed into her nightclothes, glad she had finished tomorrow's homework earlier that evening. Kitty probably would not be in until later; it was only 8 PM. Rogue locked the bedroom door anyway, reflecting that a locked door had never stopped Kitty.

Rogue curled up atop her covers; even the night was warm, and her winter blankets would be overkill. She stretched out, turned over, ran a hand over the blue fabric of the comforter, stared up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes to the white lights, blue-tiled floors, blank walls. A hospital. Rogue sat with Scott and Jean in the waiting room—

Professor X sat back abruptly, at once perplexed. Another loop? Rogue's thoughts returned to the beginning, to the hospital. What was going on? What was the meaning of these mental loops of memory that played when he entered her mind? Not only did the repeat, but they often seemed interrupted by an intersecting thought, perhaps belonging to someone she touched. But who? Was it one person, or several? Rogue's mind was always difficult to navigate on account of the minds whose essence she absorbed. Yet this was different. These interruptions almost seemed pointed, deliberate, but Xavier could not know why.

'If only I had been more deliberate when I talked to her that night,' he thought regretfully. 'I should have asked more questions. I should have been more sensitive to her pain and asked her to tell me more.' He furrowed his brow, deeply troubled. 'I am to blame here. I am at fault; grievous fault.'

Rogue was not an open person and often reacted defensively to personal questions, but now Xavier saw the significance of her outburst. That was so unlike Rogue, who brooded alone over her feelings or vented in her journal. Not to another person. Not to the Professor. Why hadn't he seen that? That should have been a red flag. But that was all retrospect and would solve nothing for him now.

Professor Charles gazed thoughtfully at Rogue. The heat waves had ceased to ebb. It was dangerous for him to try again for the moment, and he had a feeling he should check on Logan. He did not want to try telepathy after Logan's brush with Rogue. But did he want to chance leaving Rogue alone right now?

At length, Xavier decided his place was at Rogue's side, albeit from a safe distance. How long had he been trying to get through her unconscious? He was not sure. He was tired, physically as well as mentally. Thus far Rogue's condition had not changed for the worse. He had noticed minor improvements, such as perspiration. That meant her body was fighting for her at last. But that was a mere fraction of the battle. Still, she was more stable than before.

Exhausted, Professor X closed his eyes and slipped into an uneasy sleep.

So, a little shorter than the first chapter, and not quite as exciting. I'm sure you'll find chapter 3 has a little more action...once I finish writing it up. Currently I'm on Spring Vacation (at home), but usually that means I'm less productive than I am during a school week. I've started chapter 3, but it will be a little longer in coming.