Second Chances

Chapter 2

The place was quiet, too quiet. He couldn't remember why he was here, couldn't remember who he was. Everyone around him was afraid, he could smell that, and some part of him understood that he was a mutant, that most people couldn't smell like he could. He could speak, and the young girl, the one with the white streak in her hair had been kind, he understood what kind and unkind meant, he just didn't know why it was important, especially for her to be kind.

Some part of him recognized all of them, but there was something blocking him from understanding why they were familiar, why they were all cautious or afraid of him. He looked at his hands resting on his knees in the chair. The claws frightened even him, maybe that was it, maybe it was just his mutation they were afraid of. The blue mutant, the doctor had tried asking him a few questions but the only answer he had was "I don't know."

The door opened and the dark skinned woman walked in. He could smell her, and something else, another life and it hit him, she was with child. He stood as she came into the room and she looked at him, fear and determination poring off of her in waves.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, her voice calm, hiding the maelstrom of emotions he could smell behind it.

"Confused. Grateful. Lost." Her expression became puzzled.

"Do you know where you are?"

"No. I know I was dying when I got here, but I can't remember anything before that." He said, sitting back down in the chair. She walked over and perched on the doctor's stool.

"Nothing?"

"No, ma'am."

Her jump startled him, he was just being polite, but she acted like it was a slap in the face. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

"No, it is alright. Doctor McCoy says you are as recovered as you are likely to be for the near future." She stood up. "If you will follow me we have prepared a room for you on the second floor."

He stood up to follow her, thinking that this was the strangest hospital he'd ever been in. She walked to a rounded door with a large X in the middle of it and pushed a button, the door swung open revealing an elevator. He stepped in behind her and her fear escalated.

"Are you alright?" He asked, truly concerned.

"I don't like enclosed spaces." She said finally.

"I understand, I don't care for them much either." He said softly. His voice felt scratchy, like he hadn't used it for a long time.

The door opened into a mahogany paneled hallway. He looked around, and re assessed his location. This was no hospital.

"This way." She said leading him to a carpeted flight of stairs.

Several children were running down the stairs and she said sharply, "No running, and Michael, do not..." she started to say as one of the boys dropped down from the balcony and drifted to the floor like a feather. "use your powers in the house."

"Sorry, Ms. Monroe." the one named Michael said as the others skirted the wall as far from him as they could get, and then ran for the front door.

"You will have to pardon the children, we are a school, and they tend to be rambunctious." She had a slight smile as she led him down a hallway. She opened a door and he looked inside. The room was luxurious, a large bed, a door that was open and he could see led to a sizeable bathroom. "I have sent two of the boys into town to purchase you some clothing. Dinner is in one hour, down the stairs and to the left, just follow the crowd. We serve buffet style so get in line and grab a plate." She actually smiled at him, but he could smell confusion, fear, and suspicion from her.

"Thank you, Ms. Monroe was it?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." He walked into the room, his head spinning just from climbing one flight of stairs. He noticed a chair and ottoman near the window and sat down, looking out the window at what had to be the back of the building. There was a swimming pool, he could see horses in a coral near a stable, a basketball court, and in the distance down the slope the shapes of soccer goals. There were children every where, none seemed to be younger than ten all the way up to young adults. He saw a large young man and a brown haired girl walking toward the building, they both looked up at his window and glared with obvious hostility. He didn't understand what was going on.

The door opened and the girl with the white streak came in.

"Ah'm Rogue." She said softly.

"Hello."

"Ms. Monroe said you don't remember anything?" She said as she sat on the end of the bed, well out of his reach but she still smelled of fear.

"No. I woke up in pain, that's all I know." He said softly, trying to get her to relax.

"You're name's Victor. Ro said I shouldn't tell you, but you need something for people to call you." She said.

"Victor," The word caused a momentary jolt in his mind, recognition. She was right, it was his name. "thank you."

"You're sure you don't remember anything?"

"Yes, have we met - prior to this?"

"Once...but...I..." She looked panicked.

"Forget it, if it was that bad I'm not sure I want to remember." He said softly. She smiled at him, really just the corner of her mouth turned up, and something inside him did recognize her, a soft flicker of an emotion, more than recognition but less than a full memory. She was important to him, somehow.

She stood up and walked to the door. "Dinner's in about half an hour." She opened the door and left it open behind her. He stood up and walked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. He looked up and caught his appearance in the mirror. He ran his hands over his face, feeling the stubble on his face. There was a clean disposable razor on the sink, shaving cream on the back of the toilet and towels handy. He grabbed the shaving cream and sprayed the lather into his hand. He spread it over his face and watched himself in the mirror as he scraped the blade over the unfamiliar face.

He raked the stubble off, his hair was barely grown out, just stubble itself and he left that alone. He looked at his face and had the strange feeling something was missing. He was staring at his eyes, and had a sudden flash, a beast with long hair, thick mutton chop sideburns black eyes and fangs leaping out of the mirror at him. He cringed, dropping the razor and curled against the back wall of the bathroom. He shook his head and looked around. It wasn't here...whatever that beast chasing him was, it wasn't here.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She turned back to go ask him if he wanted to walk down with her. He wasn't the way she remembered, he was timid, scared almost, and she didn't quite know what to make of him right now. She knew this was only temporary, his memory loss, unless it was something like what happened to Logan, and then, maybe even monsters could change into something close to human.

She didn't see him at first, he was crouched down, shaking in the bath room. She cleared her throat, afraid to try to touch him.

"Please, keep it away." He whimpered.

"What, Victor, talk to me, keep what away?" She whispered.

"The monster - keep it away." He pointed toward the mirror but she didn't see anything.

"What happened, Victor look at me, talk to me, tell me what happened." He looked up at her and her eyes were captured by his blue ones. He trembled quietly, and she noticed tears streaking down his cheeks, making rivulets in the shaving cream still plastered to his skin.

"I was shaving, and this...thing came out of the mirror, it looked like me but different, long hair, thick whiskers, and fangs..." He put his finger in his mouth and felt his teeth. "It was me..."

"No, it may have been a memory, but it can't hurt you. Victor, its not real." She said softly.

"Rogue, please help me." He crawled across the floor, and she knelt to help him to his feet. He grabbed her hands and pulled her down onto the floor. He crawled over and put his head in her lap and she felt his tears soaking through her jeans. She stroked his head with her glove covered hands.

"It's alright, we'll make sure its alright." She didn't know if they could, but she had to believe they could help him. She couldn't imagine what could have broken him, turned him from the monster he had been to this frightened broken man, but somehow the thought of it made her angry.

He finally sat up, and looked chagrinned. "I'm sorry I got stuff all over you." He said. He stood up and walked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. She watched as he took great pains to avoid looking in the mirror. He came back and was wiping the shaving cream off her pants when she heard a low growl, and the distinctive sound of Logan's claws.

"LOGAN, NO!" She screamed as he charged into the room. He had Victor pinned against the back wall.

"WHAT did you do to her, bub?" Logan snarled, claws under Victor's chin.

"Nothing, really nothing, please...don't hurt me, please." He whimpered.

Rogue grabbed Logan's arm. He'd been on a hair trigger since Jean's death. He and Ro becoming a couple had helped some, but no one knew for sure if that would last or not. Rogue kept expecting him to just up and take off again, but somehow he stayed.

"Logan, please, he was just wiping shaving cream off my jeans. He had a bad experience and it scared him, hell you're scaring him." She said. She felt Logan's arm relax under hers.

"There's no way in hell I scare HIM!" He snarled, but he took a sniff of the air and backed away. Victor collapsed into a pile, and she heard a sob.

"GET OUT!" She yelled at Logan. "He's afraid of you, GET OUT!" Logan looked at her, stunned and then backed from the room.

"Victor, it's okay, Victor. He's gone, it's okay." She knelt next to him and let him lean his head on her shoulder. Somehow he reminded her of a child, someone lost and confused and alone, and she needed to comfort him.

"Help me." He whimpered again, and she just rocked softly, making low comforting noises as he tried to get control over himself.

"I will." She whispered, helping him to his feet. "Now lets go get some dinner."

He followed her docile as a lamb as she guided him to the dining room and helped him get a plate of food from the line. He followed her to the lonely table she normally occupied, and sat down next to her.

"Victor, how old are you?" She asked.

"I don't know. I don't remember." He looked at the plate and picked up a fork. She watched him pick at his food like a frightened child.

"What do you remember?"

"Nothing, I told you."

"Try."

"I remember...dark, it was very dark and I can hear chains." His eyes were closed. "I can hear someone talking, and I'm hungry. The door opens and I lunge at him...and that...the next thing I remember is pain and being here."

"Do you know how old you were, in the cellar?" She said, picking at her own food.

"I was a kid, I remember being small, smaller than the man that came into the cellar...I remember him hurting me, and getting angry, and then it went black." He put his fork down and she was afraid he'd start crying again.

"It's okay Victor. She put her hand over his on the table. "We won't let anyone hurt you." She watched him as he turned his head to the table where Logan and Ororo were sitting and felt him tremble under her hand.

XXXXXXXX

Logan glared at the monster sitting next to Marie. She was protecting that monster, touching him. He didn't know if he could protect her from Creed, she somehow had made herself his protector.

"Logan, it is alright, I asked Rogue to look after him. Hank has a theory, that might explain why he lost his memory, something like what happened to you, whatever happened to him was traumatic, so traumatic that he blanked out everything. Our hope is that we can bring it back a little at a time, in a controlled way so that he understands we are helping him."

"You honestly think that bastard is going to think we're helping him?" He glared at her.

"Yes I do." She said simply. He put his hand over hers.

"Alright, I just don't like you using Rogue to look after him, without her mutation she's helpless if he does get it back."

"Do you really think so, you trained her, without her mutation. She is well trained and can hold her own with any of us, with our without powers. I am expecting them to begin returning any day now, most people who took the Cure about the time she did have started, and they are coming back stronger, according to the reports from Emma."

He let out a low growl. He hated that she had to have them back. She was his friend, he'd promised to protect her and she'd ended up more broken than he had been. He paused a second, maybe she was the one to help Creed, if anyone was more broken, and afraid than Rogue, it was Creed.

"Just stay away from him yourself, Darlin'." He whispered. "I don't want him hurting you or the baby."

"I'll be fine, and tomorrow Hank said he has time for the ultrasound. I know you can hear it but I want to hear the baby's heartbeat." She whispered back. They'd kept the pregnancy quiet, mostly because she wanted it that way. She never mentioned it but he had a feeling she'd been pregnant before at some point, but lost it, and was afraid of the same thing happening again. He leaned over and kissed her gently.

"Good, I wish you could hear it every day like I do, strong and constant." He said, stroking her soft hand. "I don't know how, but somehow I think I've been here before, and this time nothing is going to happen."

"What do you mean?" She said.

"I don't know, I've been having dreams, about Jean..." He said.

"I know, you cry out in your sleep. They're not as violent as they used to be, but you're calling for someone...not Jean, Kiko." She said.

"Kiko?" He shook his head, the name brought an image of a woman with porcelain skin and black eyes, deep black hair and a beautiful smile.

"Logan."

"I can see her, she's oriental." He said softly

"Kiko?"

"Yes."

"Can you remember what happened to her." His memory had been coming back just a little bit at a time. It was frustrating, and yet he grabbed on to each memory like a treasure, another key to his past.

"She died."

"Logan?"

"She was pregnant, with our son, and she died." He said, he could feel his eyes burning, an old pain resting on his heart, making it feel like it was bleeding inside him.

"I'm not going to die. The baby will be fine." She said softly.

"I know...I won't let anyone hurt you, or the little one." He said firmly. Somehow he knew she'd died violently, and somehow the monster across the room had to have something to do with it.