A/N:
BOLD LETTERS – psyches
ITALIZED LETTERS – thoughts, flashbacks
Oh wow! Another update! Procrastination has it's benefits.
--
'How is she Hank?' Xavier asked, stopping his wheelchair a few inches away from the bed. The young gothic girl lay unmoving, her green eyes closed to the world. He turned his attention to Doctor Hank McCoy, watching as he removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh rumbling out from his mouth.
'Physically, she's fine. A bit dehydrated and exhausted, but nothing a few days of bed rest will not remedy,' the Beast replied. It seemed surreal, the articulated speech spilling out from such a primitive creature. His blue fur rippled slightly as he placed his glasses back on.
'That is good to hear,' Xavier murmured, digesting the information. He was not surprised by Beast's observations. He had started to notice the subtle dark bags under Rogue's eyes after their battle with Apocalypse had ended. She had also withdrawn into herself more, spending less time with the other mutants in the mansion. Though, much to Logan's consternation, a certain Remy LeBeau had taken quite a liking to the usually sharp-tongued young girl.
'I presume that you are more concerned with her metal wellbeing?' Beast asked. Xavier turned to him, shifting his gaze away from Rogue to the former Bayville High teacher.
'You are aware of the sessions me and Rogue have been having?' Xavier started and then continued when Beast nodded his head. 'It was meant to stabilize her mind. Apocalypse gaining control of her had wrecked so much psychic damage; I found it impossible to contemplate where to begin. But gradually, with Rogue's stubborn nature and determination, the both of us managed to return her mind to what it was before, though with a cost.'
Beast raised an eyebrow. Xavier hesitated, knowing that Rogue would be extremely angry once she had found out he had broken their code of silence on this issue.
'Apocalypse is still in her mind, locked away by barriers that the two of us erected.'
Silence greeted his proclamation, broken by the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Xavier watched as Beast's eyes widened, rapidly going from Rogue to him.
'You mean…'
'I am afraid, and god willing that I am proven wrong, that Apocalypse might be trying to break free. That is the only reason I can give for Rogue's sudden lapse,' Xavier said, remorse threading through his voice. He heard Beast swallow audibly.
'You must understand that it is absolutely essential that this information remains between the two of us, and two of us only,' Xavier said, his voice steely.
'The last thing she would need would be people putting more distance between her and them,' Beast replied, nodding in understanding. The massive hand cradling Rogue's clipboard shook slightly, but the ape-like mutant controlled himself. She was just a child, he reminded himself, victim to the cruel fate of destiny.
'Irene came to see me,' Xavier announced.
'Rogue's foster mother? I wasn't aware that she needed to be contacted,' Beast replied, confused.
'Irene is better known as Destiny. She is renowned for her precognition, her ability to see the twists and turns of the future. She foresaw Rogue's manifestation of her powers, knew that in the end Rogue would leave the Brotherhood to become an X-Men, knew that Apocalypse would use her as his vessel,' Xavier repeated, his mind combing through the meeting he had had with Destiny the previous day. His brow furrowed, recalling the words Irene had passed to him.
'The stealer of souls will house his spirit,
And the mighty that fell will arise.
Humanity will split and fall,
Unless the one with green and white forestall.'
Irene looked at him. She had removed her glasses before the meeting had begun, and she now regarded him with pale, milky irises, her pupils constantly shifting and trying to focus. Xavier sucked in a breath.
'You cannot mean-'
'Rogue is destined to this path, no matter which future I foresee. And in every one, young Remy LeBeau plays a prominent part. Bad things are on the horizon Charles. We cannot protect the children; we cannot protect her, any longer. They must fight, or Apocalypse's previous venture will pale in comparison.'
'Have you told Mystique?' Charles wondered aloud. Irene's lips twisted into a wry smile.
'Raven has been contacted,' Irene said, offering no further explanation.
'To have to endure all of this,' Xavier sighed, looking sadly at the young teenage girl sleeping soundly in her cot. 'I do not want to bring this upon her Hank.'
'None of us do, Charles. None of us do.'
--
It was black. Everywhere she looked; there was this endless screen of black stretching out as far as the eye could see.
'Where tha hell am Ah?' Rogue muttered to herself. She looked down at herself and blinked. She was wearing the same clothes the day she had kissed Cody. Gingerly, she fingered the hole in her white shirt, a small grin forming on her lips. They had been running along the banks of the river. She remembered the slightly brackish smell of the water, the warm touch of the sun on her skin. Cody had grabbed at her shirt as she flitted away from him, the air filled with her laughter and the tearing of cloth as she danced playfully out of his reach. Then her world had come crashing down. The smile died from her lips.
Shaking her head, Rogue squinted, trying to find any sort of discernable anything. The last thing she remembered was falling down into Remy's arms, feeling the gentle strokes of his fingers through her hair.
'Am Ah in mah mind?'
Whenever she had worked with the Professor, they had been on some kind of floating luminescent blue platform. Periwinkle blue. And everything else had been pink, tiny molecules of psychic matter, she supposed, floating around aimlessly. It had never been this black.
'Well, not lahke Ah can jus' stand around,' Rogue muttered to herself. Aimlessly, she wandered around.
Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Fresh meat.
Spinning around, Rogue readied herself into a defensive position. The voice seemed to echo all around her, bouncing off and reverberating until it petered out. Her eyes shifted around nervously, her mouth going dry as she tried to keep her breathing slow and steady.
'Whose there?' She called out, glad when her voice didn't crack.
Don't you remember me? I wanted to hear you scream.
'Sabertooth,' Rogue spat out. 'Too scared ta face meh, kitty? Come out so Ah can see ya ugly face!'
Suddenly, white particles shot out from the black, gravitating to a spot a few feet in front of her. As Rogue took a few steps back, her eyes large with confusion, the particles coalesced into a recognizable form. It was Sabertooth was made of styrofoam bits, all strung together with some kind of invisible glue. His eyes though, glowed a haunting yellow.
'What tha f-?'
Pretty little slip like you shouldn't say such…filthy words.
His mouth didn't move, but his answer came out crystal clear. Something coiled in her stomach.
Back off Sabertooth.
Another voice. Rogue saw more particles detatch themselves. Scott.
'Cyke?' Rogue swallowed, feeling like someone had slipped a cube of ice down her back.
I wasn't gonna finish her off or anything. Would have left plenty for you One-Eye.
Rogue gaped, her stance faltering. Were Sabertooth and Scott being decent to each other?
'Scott?' Rogue asked, watching as the yellow of Cyclop's visor flashed briefly.
Don't talk to me. It's because of you that I'm stuck in this place.
It felt like being punched in the gut. Hearing Scott's voice in her head, and seeing a figment of Scott saying those words felt completely different. This time, his tone carried more bite, as if just seeing her made him want to sneer with revulsion.
Like, totally. It's your fault we're all stuck in here, you stupid Goth.
'Kitty?' Sure enough, the slender form of her roommate materialized next to Logan's arch enemy.
What, Rogue? You expect us to feel sorry for you? Oh poor little Rogue – can't touch anyone for the rest of her life. Well guess what? I'd rather see you dead than see you touch, you worthless piece of trash!
'Tabby?'
You're not meine schwester! You're nothing but a killer.
'No Kurt, please. Ah didn' wan' any of this ta happen!'
And, like, you think we did?
'Why won' ya jus' leave meh alone? Ah didn' ask for any of this! All Ah wan' is ta be normal!' Rogue screamed. She felt something wet and salty fall onto her lips, felt her nose start to run. 'Ah never wanted any of ya'll ta be stuck up here! Ya gotta believe meh!'
More and more shapes were filling the once empty, ebony void. Shifting white forms pressed all around her, their yellows eyes piercing into her, accusing her. Their voices rose into a crescendo, belittling her, blaming her. Rogue pressed the heels of her palms onto her ears, digging and grinding them in so she could block out their voices. Sobs wracked her body as she tried to curl up further into herself as the psyches boxed her in. The air around her became cold and frigid, and Rogue screamed as one of the figures reached down to grab her hair. She felt a short eruption of pain as it pulled her to her feet.
Ya don' deserve ta live.
A sob hitched in her throat as she saw Logan's face – no, no, it wasn't his face! – inches from hers. His teeth were bared, his lips stretched back into a feral smile. He yanked on her head, and Rogue felt as if he was trying to tear out her hair in a single swoop. She heard the murmured assent ripple through the rest of the figures, and she felt her chest tighten.
Get outta here before ya make me sick.
Rogue felt herself being violently pushed to the ground, felt her knees crack as she landed in a heap on the floor.
'Please…Ah didn' mean for any of this ta happen-'
She saw Logan's stare and it made her heart break in two. She had seen him look at Sabertooth like that, at Mystique like that. He hated her. She looked around, trying to ignore the pain in her head and in her knees. They all hated her. Slowly, the psyches started to disintegrate, the white particles swirling violently around her. She saw a silver of light appear, the small line slowly stretching, the light eating away at the darkness as it consumed the black.
'Ah'm so sorry,' Rogue whispered. And then she felt like she was falling, falling, falling…
'Chere?'
Rogue's eyes flew open, blinking as she took in the harsh fluorescent light streaming down from the fixtures on the ceiling. She shivered, feeling cold, stale air wrap around her like a cocoon. Were the psyches still here?
'Chere? Y'okay?' She felt a tentative whisper on her skin.
'Don' touch meh!' Rogue screamed, her vision blurring as she swept her eyes frantically around the white room. Where was all the black? Her face riveted to the person sitting at her bedside. Red on black eyes.
'Ah said Ah was sorry! Ah didn' want ta be a killer!' She screamed. She couldn't have those hateful words coming from Remy's mouth as well. Anyone but Remy.
Remy wore a confused look on his face.
'Remy never t'ought y'were a killer, chere.'
His eyes weren't yellow. The room wasn't black. He wasn't made of white particles. But most important of all, his eyes weren't yellow.
'Rem…Remy?' Rogue sobbed, her bearing finally grounding themselves.
'Oui, ma belle fille.'
Rogue latched onto his shirt, burrowing her face into his shirt, letting her tears fall and stain the material as she wrapped her arms around the Cajun.
'Remy's here, Rogue. Remy's here.'