Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made by this work.
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We'll just let you get settled, that's what they had said, as if a optically camouflaged hypersonic jet spiriting them across the country were normal. Making a trip in hours what had taken her days with a lot of walking in between, the day fell fast from the morning into the afternoon, both given a room and a chance to rest up after the flight. Throughout it she had stayed near him all the while, neither saying much, not knowing what to say herself other than wishing she could take back that day to when everything finally seemed to be looking up.
There had been fresh clothes on her bed, a shower to enjoy and even a meal of fresh fruit and sandwiches waiting outside the door after a knock. They were giving her space, and right now space was a thing she felt a need more than ever. Miss Grey, or Jean, had told her the truth she hadn't wanted to accept that night when she had dialled a number she shouldn't have known. She had taken him into her, more than just what it was that made him so very dangerous on a wholly physical level, but drawn into her own very mind all that made him the monster that had no qualms about hurting girls like Jubilee or herself.
That the knock came as a surprise just told her how distracted she had become, ever since that day on the beach her hearing inhumanly sharp as to catch conversations at a distance as if she were part of them. Curling up on her bed and snatching up the last of a tuna sandwich, she waited for the knock to come again listening to the shuffling of feet and finally noticing the little things like the department store perfume and the fragrance of her laundry soap.
"It's open." Rogue announced, the handle twisting at her invitation.
It was high school all over again, having moved twice with her Daddy taking work where he could get it while her Momma taught piano, a welcoming committee of kids her age nervously shuffling in to eye up the outsider. Two boys and two girls, one with vivid green hair that looked too natural to ever be a dye job of some rebellious spirit. Munching her sandwich and leaving the crust, she caught the one nervously snapping at his zippo throw her a flirtatious wink.
"Hey, we saw the Jet. Most times we come here the regular way, one of the teach's finding us and talking to our folks. Other times..." Boy America started, his hand taking up the hand of the green haired girl who smiled and looked relieved.
"Other times our family life is right shit, and we take the first bus outta town finding out we're freaks." Zippo added, snapping his lighter open and shut once more.
"John..." Mousy girl hissed, looking back in silent apology.
"What about the time somebody tries to take you, tries to hurt you and ya get away only for 'em ta go hurting the first person ta offer ya a bit o' kidness..." Rogue spat, glaring at them all wishing they'd just take the hint and leave.
"Then they come and help ya, and offer you a chance to be normal for once." Green said, holding tightly to Boy America's hand.
For just a few seconds time seemed off and the world felt like it had gone topsy turvy, things floating through the air to clatter down as Green bit her lip in embarrassment. Never having seen her before in her life, a name came spoken by a voice she didn't know, Lorna Dane. It was the name she had felt so much horrible fear for on the night of the attack, a number dialled she would never recall as her fingers danced over the buttons.
"They wanted us ya know, but they took her instead..." Rogue whispered, the guilt painful as she clenched her eyes tightly shut against the tears.
"Us?" Lorna asked, her voice weak as she stared in shock.
"Me and you, he wanted us! Magneto or whoever tha hell he is! But he took her instead after everything he did to me, just ta make sure I came!" Rogue screamed.
The guilt came back, guilt over Jubilee, guilt over ruing everything Remy had, guilt at blaming Lorna for it all wondering maybe if she hadn't made that call, too many doubts and too much pain over it all. Maybe she shouldn't have fought, not have screamed as he attacked her that had drawn the help that had set her on this course.
"You made the call?" Lorna croaked, caught as she nearly fell from suddenly weak legs.
Not trusting herself, she just nodded and curled up in her corner wishing they'd all just leave her alone. Clenching her eyes tightly shut and fighting against the tears again, as she blinked them open smelling lighter fluid and flint she screamed seeing a hand reaching to brush the few that had split from her cheeks.
"Don't you touch her!"
The one voice she had reason to trust was filled full of concern, and a bit of possessiveness that thrilled her. Stepping in and rushing to her side, Remy met John's gaze with a smug smirk and a wink taking a place on the bed.
"K dude, didn't know you and her were a thing, relax." John said taking a step back with raised hands offered in defeat.
"I say that for your benefit homme, my rogue, she be a lady who can take care of herself." Remy said, raising his gloved hand to strip it slowly bare and hold two gentle fingers near.
"Remy, I, I don't..." Rogue whispered, hushed softly as he stared into her eyes.
"Life be not worth living without a little risk, non? Just a touch, to show them I be not that jealous." Remy said in a soothing yet playful tone.
Thinking of all the times he had been so very gentle with her, he had shown care and concern every step of the way treating her with nothing but gentlemanly respect of old. Giving a nod of permission, she waited and felt his bare knuckles lightly stroke her cheek stealing a gasped breath for a memory she would cherish. Yet even as a first freely given tear fell she felt that jolt, that surge of something within her that hungered. Veins bulged on Remy's hand, his flesh turning a sickly colour as he struggled to fight the tide and broke the once tender embrace.
The rest where in shock, John's temper snuffed out instantly seeing the mistake he had made, but she had eyes only for Remy as he slipped a glove back over his hand. Reaching into a coat for a pack of cards that had seen much use on the flight back, he spread it with a showman's wink in offer.
"Pick a card." Remy urged.
Taking one and staring at it, a glow she had seen him use twice overtook it as it flickered and wavered with unspent potential. Plucking it from her with the bare fingers that didn't know the leather of his gloves, something subtle changed in the card just before he flung it into the air to pop and burn leaving only ash drifting down from the ceiling.
"Like I say, this lady, she be one who can take care of herself." Remy said again to the crowd, everyone looking on her in new respect.
"You can't control it, can you?" Mousy asked sadly.
Shaking her head unable to find breath enough for an answer, she still felt too overcome by something in that touch a moment before. It had been filled with worry, a worry she knew herself all too well for her missing friend, and surprisingly a worry for her. Worry and another feeling she knew, feeling something for Remy that if given time might burn hotly and full of passion. It was a sense of longing that in time could be love, remembering a promise sworn over take out Chinese and seeing in his eyes that he hadn't forgotten his debt.
"Hey, my bad, I just..." John started, looking frustrated as he fought to find the words.
"It's okay, ya just, ya just can't touch me." Rogue whispered, hating that the opposite was so true, that she couldn't touch them no matter how innocent the gesture might be.
"Does it...hurt?" Lorna asked.
"Not me." Rogue replied, shaking her head and forcing down memories she couldn't suffer again to think of so soon.
"I'm, we're all sorry, we didn't mean to, we just wanted you to feel welcome. The both of you. Welcome to Xavier's just the same, and...we're sorry about your friend. They'll find her, they found all of us after all." Boy America added, ushering everyone out.
"That's what they promise..." Remy whispered.
Yet sitting there with him, Rogue felt a twist of words to what he said, catching him in a lie and feeling it right down in her gut that she wasn't wrong. Waiting for the door to close and give them the privacy of the company of one another, she listened to the tread of feet heading off down the hall and to all the sorry words spoken for her by people that had just met her.
"You're going after him aren't ya?" Rogue asked knowing there wasn't a soul around to overhear her.
"Oui." Remy said without apology, just smiling at her in a hint of new respect.
"When?"
"Just as soon as we be able to slip free and borrow the Harley I saw in the garage in my wanderings. You ever boost a bike?" Remy asked, shuffling all that was left of the deck.
"No."
"You never forget your first Chere, you stick with me, this N'Awlin's boy teach you all the finer things in life. We get our Petit back, then I think we all have a date with Vegas." Remy whispered, dealing down a straight flush that only missed its queen of hearts.
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Sitting alone in his study with his tea untouched, Charles had a stack of folders on his desk, too many things that had fallen through the cracks over the years of striving to do the very best he could for all his children. Pragmatic as he was, he hated that he couldn't be there for them all, sometimes by the time his X-men got there it was just too late. Reaching for the phone and dialing a number he knew by heart now, he waited as it rang once, twice, then thrice before it was answered with silence.
The last time it had been called a killer had answered, visions of what that man had done still ingrained in a young girl's mind who he felt a debt to help and heal. It had been that same girl who had foretold the attempt on another, one he had been able to reach in time though a name spoken with a ill portent.
"Are you there Erik?" Charles finally found the strength to ask.
A laugh he once knew and shared barked, withered by age and time but still rich and strong, fighting against the impulse to search for answers that had never been so easily forthcoming from the private man.
"You are the last man I expected to call, but somehow I am not surprised to hear from you Charles. Still looking for hope dear friend?" Erik asked, a sadness in his voice.
"What have you done Erik? First Lorna, and now this child? Do you have any idea what you've done to her?" Charles asked, still horrified at the ghost haunting her mind.
"I gave her a chance Charles, a chance to give us all a future if only she'll just take my hand. You always looked for the best in them, turning a blind eye to their true nature, we are better than them Charles." Erik said with finality.
"Then show me we are better than them, be the better man!" Charles cried in tormented plea.
"You ask too little of me dear friend, it's so very easy to be better than them, all you have to do is look to history to see this. We are the future Charles, not them." Erik cried with a bitter laugh, preaching the truth he clutched to tightly.
"Just tell me the child is safe, let me at least tell them that." Charles begged.
"Safe and sound Charles, they just have to come for her and hear me out. Don't make this any harder than it has to be." Erik promised.
"Senator Kelly is dead." Charles whispered, listening so very close as he held his breath.
The shaky breath and dial tone said more than words could have conveyed, clenching the phone tightly in his fist and grimacing at how far his friend had travelled on a road paved in misguided intentions. Setting it back atop its rest and rubbing his eyes, Charles found his way back behind the desk to look over the files taken from his archives.
One was more recent than the rest, another from a time his offer had been rejected as it was so many times before. But the last, that was the one he opened again to read over slowly thinking maybe she had been safe after all. Seen from afar, cared for by a boy become a man, he had left well enough alone that time, thinking her in good hands by a chance of fate. Now he was sure the fates were laughing at him, never to know just which threads could be crossed.
"I won't fail you twice Miss Lee, not you, nor Rogue, nor Remy LeBeau. I promise you all to make this right." Charles whispered.
Still remembering a Senator's last words as his grip became slack and his being was undone down to the very genetic level, as ashes became ashes, a man became the primordial soup born from the sea to fall against the infirmary floor with a splash. It was a vow he spoke with blood on his hands, never having had the chance to find out if he and the late Senator could have found common ground on their own.
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