Disclaimer: I don't own a thing
Title: Born for Bad Luck
By: Peanutbutter
"Boys I'm most done travellin', Lord I'm at my journey's end
B'lieve I'm most done travellin', Lord at my journey's end
Well I been lookin' for me a good partner, bad luck is my best friend..."
(Born for Bad Luck song by Brownie McGhee)
Chapter 17: Trouble in Mind
"Trouble in mind, and I'm blue
Oh you know I won't be blue always
You know the sun is gonna shine in my back door some day..."
(Trouble in Mind by Richard Jones)
0o0o0o0
Rogue ignored Scrambler, her eyes closed and she let herself fall, it wasn't a long fall, into your own mind you can only fall so far. She reached for the next psyche. It was getting easier, memories unfolding, put away, filed, powers rushing over her in waves, faster and faster. Sometimes she held onto the powers relishing the new sensations the joy the user received when executing their gifts. Yes, gifts, most viewed them as such, though the terminology was different from mind to mind. Impressions of 'necessity' to 'completely kick ass'. Some were too painful to hold on to, slippery with misuse, filthy to the touch, she shrugged away from them, but was forced to touch it, if only for a moment, to feel their memory of it, no matter how horrible the uses.
More people were appearing. John, Bobby, Kitty, Pete, Jubilee, and Cody shadows of the long departed Jean Grey and bursts of Scott Summers. Her body ached at the sight of them. Lost not that long ago their faces had already started to fade from her mind. They swam back with such clarity that she had to push away tears. They whispered to her, when others had spoken clearly, there wasn't enough to make a complete form, just words and small emotions. Fleeting, shadowy memories, and even more fleeting vestiges of their amazing powers.
Her mind became a very crowded place so at the Professor's urging, a hand on her shoulder, the look of his clear familiar eyes, and and she began to sort them through. They were hard to let go of, but she told herself they would never be truly locked away, at least not the ones she cared for. Most went willingly enough. Others fought. By the time she was done she wanted to sleep, but she didn't know how that was possible. She was already asleep.
Rogue opened her eyes. The Astral Plane was beautiful, no longer empty. It was her home. She had wondered for years which it really was, the calming south of Caldecott or the green grounds of the Xavier Institute. The mansion rolled out in front of her and peace rolled over her.
"You have shaped your world."
Rogue turned to the Professor, smiling. "They're all in there. I can feel them, living in the walls, talking, laughing, not banished, or forgotten."
It was quiet, comforting, her mind had never been a peaceful place before.
"There is one more thing you need to do."
"I have to talk to Carol."
"You have to take back your life."
Rogue bit her lip, stubborn still, "I don't know what I'll do. Not yet."
The Professor was trying to talk to her, but it was her mind. She blocked him. He could break through and force her to do things a different way, but he wouldn't push it. He let everyone make their own decisions how ever wrong they may be. She knew where Carol was, pushed into the furthest corner of her mind, locked up by the Professor. She was angry, scared, and confused. Rogue was responsible, on some level for all of it.
She pushed through the locks, but they had already been loosed and let herself in. The world was chaos, rolling floors, a rushing sky over head, the colors was skewed. It was raining. In seconds she was a soaked her hair stuck to her face and water ran into her eyes. She couldn't see more than an inch in front of her face. Every step she took toward the center of the room was a battle. The wind pushed against her as she tried to stay up right.
"Who put me here?"
Rogue looked up, rain pelted her eyes forcing her gaze back down. Carol was flying overhead. Rogue didn't know if she should expect an attack. She wondered whether or not she'd be able to defend agaisnt one.
"The Professor..." Rogue started.
"That old freak. He locked me away. You know I won't stay, not forever. I'll get out. You can't take my life. You can't do this to me!"
Suddenly she was there, the rain slacked and the blond girl fell from the sky to stand in front of Rogue. She landed lightly, her toes resting on the floor, it rippled, before her foot lay flat. The ground ceased it's rolling. She was wearing a green uniform, a thin mask resting on the apples of her cheeks, just revealing the blue of her eyes.
"Do you know who I am!" She demanded.
"Carol Danvers..." Rogue started but the blond shook her head.
Rogue tried again, searching for something. It was surprisingly easy to reach for the answer. She opened her mouth to speak the name of her alter ego, but Carol had put her hand to her head, pained.
"You think I don't feel, I feel you in my memories, rifling through. Don't you understand that they're mine?"
"I'm sorry." Rogue whispered her confidence fading.
"Doesn't matter," she spat, "and it's not Ms. Marvel either." Her costume faded to a girl in jeans and a loose t-shirt. Her fingers fisted in the fabric for a moment. "I keep doing this. I don't know how I'm doing this, but I think it and there it is. I get angry and the sky rolls, rains, screams, but even as it follows my will, it doesn't. It's not what I want, not exactly how I see it."
Rogue swallowed afraid to speak.
"I was a girl, and I wasn't ready to die."
"I didn't mean to..."
Carol looked up from her shirt, eyes narrowing. "Yeah well, thats life right. I didn't mean to die, and you didn't mean to kill me." She was bitter her voice breaking.
"I just," Rogue started again, but Carol was angrier, louder. Her voice was dwarfed by the blond's.
"It's life. You want it, I want it, and I'm going to fight for it."
She struck before Rogue could dodge. Rogue felt her body ache at the impact. Her body flew, with no hope of stopping until the wall appeared behind her back, twisted and unsteady, but hard as hell. She groaned and slid to the ground. She was sure she was bleeding, but this wasn't really. Her hand brushed the back of her head and came away bright red.
"Are you going to give up so easily!" Carol mocked, floating overhead, just out of reach. "Or are we going to have a real fight." Her leg lowed back lazily and zipped forward just as Rogue rolled out of the way.
0o0o0o0
"What happened with your powers?"
John shrugged and pulled his eyes from the unfamiliar plains of Charles Xavier's neutral face and focused on the tips of his standard issue institute tennis shoes. He'd been in them before, the first time he'd lived there he'd worn them. He didn't have a choice then. His shoes were full of holes. They were white. The only color was dirt smudged across the toe and a navy blue 'N' etched on the back heel. He'd hated them then and he hated being in them again, but his clothes were pretty much trashed and he didn't want to walk around barefoot.
"There was a surge, your powers have gone through quite a transformation, how are you at controlling it?"
He shrugged again, flexed his foot, his toe brushed the front of the shoe. They were nearly too small. He really needed half a size bigger.
"Is this something that developed while working with Magneto?"
John hadn't been looking for it, but he could feel it, the Professor was looking, gleaming the thoughts John was carelessly setting free. His shields went up automatically.
"There is no need to be defensive," Xavier said calmly, smiling slowly and reassuringly.
John raised a brow, "Sure," he paused for a moment before continuing. "Just tell what it is you want. Besides shouldn't you be with Rogue?"
"She is doing better, but there are things I can't even help with." His brows creased for only a moment, emotions hard to read, the question did little to distract the Professor, but John was hardly surprised.
"I want to help you. Your powers have gone through a new transformation, an entirely different stage. You should learn to control it and harness that power." He reached for a file laying across the desk.
John watched the Professor's fingers as they pulled the file open. He saw a flash of his picture in the corner. It was his file. How many times had that been pulled out? He hated to think that it was still at the institute.
"Shouldn't you burn that, not a member of your little group anymore." He wanted to snatch it out of the man's hands but that would show that he cared and he really didn't want to do that.
"You were a student John. I remember all of my students."
"That hottest your fire burned four years ago was 130 F but by the reported damage to the warehouse I would believe it's doubled, if not tripled. The fire was reported to be blue."
John shrugged. "No big, I've been doing it for years." It was a lie, he had no idea where it had come from, the slow burning in his stomach that swam over his entire body, consuming, uncontrollable. It was a joy he was reluctant to acknowledge.
"I see."
John knew the Professor wasn't in his head but by the tone, the tilt of his head, and the way the Professor rearranged the papers it was obvious his lie was unconvincing. He broke eye contract, back to his shoes, back to something safe.
"We done here?"
"Yes," the Professor seemed reluctant. John braved another look at him. The look on his face, searching, worried, damn disappointed, it was a look John couldn't stand. "I suppose we are. I would like to help you, run some tests, see the extent of your powers, your control."
"More stuff for your file," John sneered, eyes straying to the wall. He needed to get out, have a smoke. He didn't want to be anywhere near the man anymore. "I'll just keep it to myself."
"If we can figure out where it's coming from we might be able to help others with similar powers."
"Always the mission," John said and got to his feet. Wolverine was waiting on the other side of the door, but he would take the man's rough handling any day to escape Xavier's scrutiny. He paused fingers seconds from turning the knob. "When are you letting us go?"
There was a moment of silence before he answered, "What do you plan on doing when we release you?"
What was he playing at John didn't need a father. He was fine on his own. He'd needed help, but it wasn't going to happen again. He was done with being weak and he was sick of Xavier's concern.
John didn't turn around but his fingers slipped off the knob and into his pockets. He couldn't hide the grin on his face so he faced the door. "You know I've been thinking about that. Figured I'd start small, mailboxes, doghouses, cars, before I moved on to bigger game, buildings, airplanes, you know the bigger the better, and see how long it takes me to turn it to ash." He grinned, malicious, on the verge of laughter as he turned around, eager for a reaction, sure he'd get the one he wanted. "If you want I can send you the data on that, and you can add it to my file."
"Your anger is misplaced." There was something shimmering in the Professor's eyes that he hadn't seen before, and the he had to force the smile to remain on his face.
"So is your concern, old man, I don't want anything to do with you, or the X-men."
"Yet you came to us when you needed help."
It was a blow and he gritted his teeth. He didn't want to say that he had no where else to go, that they were the first people he'd thought of. It just pissed him off more. He grabbed the knob turned from the Professor and rushed out the door. He slammed it, ignoring Wolverine's narrowed eyes.
"Back to the cages, Wolfy." John barked.
Wolverine grabbed his arm, fingers bruising his flesh, and pulled him down the hall.
0o0o0o0
She was going to lose. Her powers were failing her. She couldn't drain Carol's powers. Her fingers had brushed over the blond's skin countless times, lingering touches that should have sent the girl into a coma, but she had never wanted that, and Carol brushed every touch off. Rogue got pounded for her efforts. The training she'd received in hand to hand was helpful but it was hard to counteract inhuman strength. She couldn't put a defensive move on her that would harm, not to mention all of her offensive strikes failed.
She was going to loose this battle, and in doing so she was going to loose her life. She didn't want to die, but neither had Carol. Rogue rolled away from the punch. Carol's fist was buried in the ground. Rogue jumped onto her back, a maneuver she had done countless times. Her fingers wrapped around the girl's throat. She squeezed. She willed her powers to work, but Carol merely laughed and shook. She rippled like the waves in the ocean and Rogue was tossed to her left flying across the rocky ground. Her body was gouged on impact; rocks scraped across her palms. She smashed her arm against the hard ground. She was sure it was broken.
Even if the injuries were in her mind she couldn't talk away the pain, the reality of the wounds, the blood was too red the pain too real. She rolled over her head pounding the world spinning into darkness.
"You ready for the end?"
Rogue wanted to scream, but her mouth wouldn't work, her tongue refused to flex. Carol was hovering over her fist raised. Rogue closed her eyes. She didn't want to die, not like this. She didn't want to die.
It rushed over her as soon as the thought rolled through her mind. The sensation was familiar, chilling, a pleasant tingling rushing over her body. She felt her flesh knit, the bones in her arm were fusing together, her body, depleted was replenished. She wasn't tired, not anymore. She opened her eyes.
Carol was staring horror stricken, her fist still raised to finish the job. There were tears in her blue eyes. Rogue knew, like a whisper in her ear, why. Carol wasn't terrified of the healing wounds, or, Rogue felt, the fire jumping to life in her hand or the rocks under her fingers glowing with power. Rogue's mind was suddenly open to possibilities, powers that she had touched not so long ago, sprang to life and Carol's followed the flow of power. Carol was a afraid of herself and killing blow she was about to inflict. It was her own hesitation that had let Rogue slip in and this time she wasn't going to be leaving.
Rogue smiled and sat up. Carol fell backward.
"What's going on?"
Rogue rose off the ground and floated even with Carol. She could fight, fight better. She wanted to live. It was crazy that she had been willing to let Carol win.
"I don't want to die," Carol whispered. The ground rushed up at her and she hit hard. Rogue remained aloft. Carol coughed the impact having knocked her breath out. She was hardly able to pick herself back up. Rogue knew she was the strong one now, Carol's strength could be hers there was fire at her finger tips, energy in her palms.
Carol began to cry. "I can't kill you, I can't, I can't, but I don't want to die."
"You won't die," Rogue lowered herself to the ground her fingers reaching for Carol's. For the first time her powers didn't pull, but gave. The blond's powers flowed back into her. It was a gift she had hoped for since draining Cody. She knew it wasn't real, that it wouldn't last past the confines of her mind, but it was comforting.
"I'll never use what's yours." Rogue whispered her fingers lacing with Carol's. "But I want, I want to live. I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you." The tears were flowing again, but Carol wasn't resisting, not like before. She pulled for only a moment before nodding, reluctant even in that action.
"I won't be silenced."
"I don't expect you to." Rogue whispered and pulled away her fingers letting Carol go. In the release the landscape spun.
The crazy twisted rock walls and rolling sky disappeared. The landscape molded into the other, her creation her home and Carol faded away locked in her own place. And suddenly she felt like she could wake up and she opened her eyes.
The Professor was sitting by her bed, smiling. She reached for him ignoring the fact that her hands were bare and pulled him into a hug. He wasn't the same man in her mind, not physically, but inside he had never changed. Her fingers wrapped in the fabric of his shirt and she bit her lips as his hands touched over her back.
"Thank you, thank you so much."
"Rogue my dear, you are always welcome, though you did all of it yourself."
0o0o0o0
"Pyro."
John had known there was someone outside the door long before it opened, long before Bobby stepped into the room. Remy dozing in the corner, eyes shut, they flew open when Bobby walked in.
The mention of his name didn't warrant a response, at least not a verbal one. He raised a brow. The bandage tape stuck to the other brow forcing it down when it inclined the other. It pulled on the hair on his forehead and he suppressed the wince that resulted from his calculated nonchalance.
"I need to talk to you."
Right another lecture on trust. Just what he needed, how it was all his fault, how he was an idiot and it was his fault that Rogue was still out. He'd done enough talking for one day. He would pass on that, but then again, refusing would force him to speak. He got up, despite his promise not to and walked out the door.
Bobby leaned against the wall, calm, or at least calmer than John had seen him since he came asking for help. "They sent me to talk to you."
"Who?" John asked verging on laughter, who would want to talk to him.
Bobby sighed, slicked hair falling out of place as he bounced against the wall, breaking the defensive posture of his clasped arms. "I'm not going to lie," he rolled his eyes and met John's for the first time. "I'm supposed to say that we voted on it, came to a decision, but really it was the Professor, and Logan always votes the way the Professor does, so it's two to like five."
"What the hell are you talking about?" John spat, annoyed that he was being discussed at all.
"They want you to consider staying here."
John couldn't help it. He laughed, a snort that ended in a gruff laugh, but a true laugh. He had to force it back for appearance's sake. "Are you all crazy." What had the Professor gotten from their conversation that made him think that he would want to stay. Had he not told him how much he didn't need him, or the X-Men for that matter.
Bobby didn't find it nearly as funny, "I think they are."
"So obviously they sent you, because you what, lost that vote too?"
"I was done with you when you left the first time." Bobby spat. "I want you out of here. You're a liability I don't think we should take."
"Ah, so we're back to that." John was silent for a moment. Even if he didn't want to stay it still hurt a little for the feeling to be so mutual and that was another reason for him to be pissed off. He shouldn't care and most of him didn't, but there was that small part.
"The first time you came back..."
John's good humor was washed away immediately. He didn't want to talk about that. Hadn't even thought about that in years. Bobby was the only one that knew and for him that was one too many.
"Shut it," John warned.
Bobby ignored him, "I was pissed at you, probably made the wrong decision."
John clenched his jaw wishing for his lighter. Bobby had no right to bring it up, because it had been a time when John had been as his most low. He was hankering for revenge, desperate for refuge and had only one place to go, with Magneto 'cured' and the Brotherhood disbanded.
"If it'll ease your self righteous soul, I was going to torch the place after dinner." John added grinning viciously. "I guess you made the right decision."
Bobby cocked his head to the side, an all knowing sort of stare that used to drive John up the wall crossed his face. "You were sincere. I should have asked, told the others that you came..."
"So I could get you all together, kill you all in your sleep, that's what your sympathy would have gotten you. I'd rather die than be stuck in these walls again! Listening to your simpering wines, those vomit worthy looks you sent Rogue, like you were Romeo and Juliet, your mislead definition of justice, your cowards way for fighting for what's right! Afraid to take a stand, afraid to let some die, even when they deserved it!"
"I knew this was a mistake, you fucking asshole, I should just..." Bobby was shaking.
"Kill me here, like to see you try. Still too scared, you pussy." John was angry, defensive and out of control. Fuck the plan, the low profile shit, he was sick of this.
Bobby swung first, iced fist rushing past his face by inches. John got him in the kidney. Bobby buckled for only a moment before swinging again. The hit met John's temple making him see stars. Despite the blackness threatening, he barreled forward. He was going to tear Bobby limb from limb.
His momentum was stopped, arms around his arms, pulling him backward. He cursed his teeth gnashing angrily, like a dog sick for the kill. He didn't have to look to know who was holding him back.
"Let go LeBeau, I'm going to kill him this time."
Bobby was wiping his mouth, blood on a split lip. Hank was holding one of his arms. "You're dead Allerdyce. That was your last chance. I'm going to make sure you're thrown in prison, the both of you." He stalked down the hall,shrugging off Hanks hold, and dismissing the man's words.
"Dat was necessary?" Remy asked.
"Shut up." John answered.
Remy slid next to him, whispering in his ear. "Couldn't have played along none? Dere no way you could make dat conversation inta, somet'ing we could use ta get outta of here easier, a little trust, dat not worth une petite shot at your pride."
Remy walked out of the hall and into the room before John could answer. He could kill Remy too, the bastard, but there was something else stirring inside him. He wasn't angry about Bobby, not the Bobby just now, but the Bobby three years ago. The arrogant bastard that had turned him away when he'd most needed help. Humbled, humiliated, he nearly begged for the chance to come back, but that wasn't him, not anymore. He was better, better, he was sure, than that.
Hank grabbed his shoulder, pushing him through the doorway, and for the first time, since they had first arrived, they were locked in. Remy was fuming in the corner, John sank onto his bed. He didn't have to ask but he knew escape had just gotten a lot harder.
Ah the end of another chapter and so much closer to the end. I'm excited. I love finishing a fic. Also I'd like to thank those that reviewed this chappy Ratdogtwo, lovestoread, and gaea3 thank you so much. I love hearing what you guys think. Anyway here is another sneak peak of the next chapter
From Chapter 18
She froze seconds later and pushed herself flat on the floor as Hank opened the door and peered into the room. Light flooded the room pushing the darkness away and making Rogue all too aware of her vulnerability. Darkness was the only thing keeping her hidden. She held her breath willing him to miss her, to not smell her or hear her. She couldn't see Remy the bed too high but she was sure he was faking sleep, just like he had done to her and she was sure he was fooling Hank as well, or she hoped he was.
Moments, that seemed like hours, later the door shut and there was nothing but darkness. Rogue relaxed until she remembered him. He had caught her trying to touch him, had probably seen her touching John. She swallowed.
"Dere a reason you're tryin' to put me in a coma, or dat just your way of saying 'I like you?'" Remy vaulted over the side of the bed, land lightly and silently like a cat, crouched on the balls of his feet. The small light from the door was backing him, casting him in further shadow and she couldn't make out his face to gage his reaction.
"Ah was tryin' to help ya," she breathed and forced herself onto her feet, crouched low like he was, but less vulnerable than her sprawled position on the floor.
"By knocking me unconscious? Dat seem a little backward."
Rogue bristled, not sure if he was teasing or not. "Comin' from the man that kidnaps and steals but sometimes fights on the good side."
He was silent for a moment, "Touche', cherie, but dat still don't tell me what you're doin' here?"