Here's the new second chapter. Thanks to everyone who's still sticking with the story and to all the new fans too. I know it's been taking a lot longer than anticipated but I'm lighting a figurative fire under my ass and picking up the pace.
Again, comments/questions/concerns/life lessons and any other reviews would be very much appreciated.
Rogue.
I felt hands roughly shaking me.
I heard myself screaming as I woke. The sound was surreal, sounding as though it came from far away...
Hands were grabbing at me and I yelled louder, kicking at them, trying to get away. Someone was yelling something over and over again. Who's gone rogue? A hand slapped my face—pain and another, more masculine yell.
Something heavy fell over my chest, and for a moment I was Bobby Drake, age 16. There was a flash of myself rocketing upwards, creating a massive column of ice beneath me as I soared into the air. I hovered in the sky a few seconds as I stopped creating ice, then slid down the smooth, chilly slide I created for myself, yelling happily all the way down.
Another flash and I was in a familiar room, in a familiar bed, hovering over a familiar girl. Rogue. She was screaming, writhing, dreaming. I slapped her face, trying to snap her out of a nightmare. The image jerked me into consciousness. I was Rogue. The weight was Bobby.
I looked around fearfully. I was scared—or was that Bobby? Scott and Kurt pulled the unconscious boy off me, and made it as far as the door with him before Hank rushed in. Hank gently took the boy off their hands and carried him down to the infirmary. I looked away guiltily; I hated my lack of control over my power. He'd be out for awhile.
My cloths clung to my body, damp with perspiration. My blanket was at least a foot away from the bed, but it was only a dream. Thank G-d. I glanced at my roommate, Kitty, who was hovering near me and biting her lip nervously. There were other students in the room, but I looked through them, ignoring their concerned words and gossipy murmurs. I focused on organizing my thoughts.
Wordlessly I started getting out of bed when the small crowd surrounding my bed parted and the Professor and Logan emerged.
The room was instantly quiet.
"What's going on over here?" Logan asked, looking first at me and then at the rest of the students now milling about my room.
I looked from the anxious, bleary eyed faces surrounding my bed to Kitty, hoping she would say something so that I didn't have to. I didn't want to tell everyone I woke them all because of a silly nightmare.
"She was like, screaming," Kitty offered, "It was really freaky." She added as an afterthought. I almost hit her. Thanks for the genius explanation, like they all didn't hear me crying out like a little girl.
"What happened?" the Professor asked.
"Well, I was sleeping and then I heard Rogue..." Kitty trailed off mid sentence when she noticed the Professor looking intently at me.
"It's nothin'. Just a dream, it was stupid..." I muttered, trying to keep myself from blushing.
"What happened?" the Professor asked again, steering himself closer to the bed. I shrugged in response, not really wanting to talk about it. A look from the Professor cleared the room, Kitty included. I knew the drill. I moved to the edge of the bed and the Professor wheeled himself directly in front of me.
"Relax your mind..." he said, his voice calm and soothing. I did as told. The Professors finger tips nearly brushed my temples. I focused on my dream. It came back to me in flashes.
The Killer was running as fast as he could. If you blinked it would appear as though he had disappeared and reappeared several feet away. In the distance a tall figure with beautiful, silver hair cascading down his back held a young girl by the throat.
A small boy lay dead at his feet. An old man and middle aged woman lay dying nearby. The girl was crying silently as she tried to break free of the silver haired mans' grip.
The Killer unsheathed his sword as he approached, but just as he was prepared to strike, the silver haired man slit the young girl's throat. Just before she died she managed to gasp two words.
"Inu yasha."
The Killer stopped dead in his tracks, his amber eyes open wide in horror. The silver haired man dropped the girl to the floor where she fell in a heap, her blood staining the ground around her.
"Why?" the Killers voice broke as he spoke.
The silver haired man just stared, no emotion showing on his porcelain face, and in the blink of an eye he was gone. He left only the dead, the dying and the Killer in his wake.
The Professor looked slightly drained when we were finished, but I knew he was fine. After working with him as long as I have I knew that probing my mind for a dream was nothing for a man like him.
After a moment Professor Xavier spoke, "I don't think that was a dream, Rogue." I examined my knees. I didn't think it was a dream either.
This wasn't the first time memories have come to me in dreams. The Killer was in it, so I felt safe saying it was his. With the Professors help these "nightmares" happen less frequently, but on occasion I'll get to live a piece of someone else's life for a night. My dream was real. That girl, however long ago, was murdered.