The Paths We Tread

Chapter 4 – Lost In Time

Time, the ever marching mantra –

never ceasing, ever flowing,

the rolling river of years past count.

Time cannot wait, not for me, in its eternal race –

I'm left behind as the world continues on,

growing, changing, as I remain the same.

Who will look for me as I am left behind?

Who will spare a glance for a poor soul lost in time?

~ Remy gasped as his head was yanked back, the sharp blades grazing his scalp as his long hair was sheared from his head. He was shoved from the chair to admit the next unfortunate child. He ran his finger through what scant locks now remained on his head. Changed, fixed to what his slave masters wanted him to be~

~ "Only a few more." Rogue gasped to herself, pulling herself up on the bars with shaking arms, finishing the last chin up. She wasn't just speaking of her workout, but of the days that were flowing past her uncounted, like autumn leaves in the wind. Funny, she couldn't remember the colors that those leaves had been. She just had to convince herself that only a few more days of darkness remained; that soon the hours of pain, exhaustion, and the yearning for the open sky would be but memories. "Only a few more." ~

~The four listened as Kayla sang a slow and mournful song in the native tongue of her heritage. It was quiet, only just loud enough for them all to hear the chanting words. It began to lull their abused bodies into sleep. ~

~ Rowan staggered and fell. He could feel the blood welling from the numerous wounds on his winced in pain at the awful sting, but he could hear the ones in charge in his head. "No failure. Disregard the pain, no matter what." He pulled himself up, ignoring the hot waves rushing through him from the exposed flesh. Gritting his teeth, he leapt back into the fray, a trail of scarlet laid forgotten behind him. ~

~ "I can still remember the taste of a good plate of etouffe." Remy poked at his food dully.

"Well, maybe you'll get another taste sometime soon." Kayla said. Remy only smiled, but it looked defeated, growing dimmer everyday with loss of hope. ~

~ "I think today's my birthday." Rowan said to Rogue. Both were mauling punching bags in a standard gym for the operatives. Over time as they grew older, they worked together more often. A special privilage for maturity one would guess.

Rogue moved her gray-green eyes to him. "Then, happy birthday Rowan." They both went silent again and their punches flew faster and harder. ~

~Rogue pulled her shirt over her head for the average cold shower. For a moment, she looked at herself in one of the many mirrors in the girls' locker room. She was changing; she was taller, and her woman figure was beginning to show itself, even now. She could also see many scars marring her pale skin. With a sigh, she clambered into the shower. ~

~As the day ended once again, they all fell into dreams of their old homes. They were changed though: city streets were empty, abandoned houses, with cold winds blowing.~

xxxXXXxxx

The last training bot fell broken to the floor. Rogue brushed her hands off on her pants. After all the years of trashing them she no longer felt a rush of fear when they emerged to test her skills. Instead, she felt a killer's joy when she would lunge with weapons bristling to destroy them. It gave a dark satisfaction to vent bottled emotions of five years out on pieces of scrap metal that stood no chance against the now-lethal eleven year old.

Rowan joined her. He hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, so he was now a little shorter than she was, but from the lanky build he was aquiring there was no doubt he would be much taller than her by the time he was through growing. His dark hair was constantly in a military cut. HYDRA thought it appropriate that their trainees be kept with modest hair lengths. Rogue's brown and white hair was cut to hang to just below her chin, as was Kayla's.

"You've turned kind of scary Rogue. I could almost see your eyes go red when you got that last one."

"Ah wouldn't be too upset if they did." Her southern accent was fading, but she still kept some scrap of the south. It was harder now too, fiercer with the strains of the years grating into an almost snarl of animalistic satisfaction.

Kayla and Remy joined them from among the crowd of other adolescents and they fell into instinctual step, in one straight line. Kayla had grown beautiful beyond her age, her short white hair gleaming like swan feathers and her eyes gleaming softly set in her cocoa skinned face. Remy had grown and was the tallest among them, his hair also sheared short but his eyes still flamed with the defiant light that refused to die despite the passage of time.

Time had changed the four of them. Kayla and Rogue were now supposedly eleven while Remy and Rowan were or were about to be thirteen. In the five years since they had made their pledge none of them had neglected that promise. They weren't friends for enjoyment of company, but for their very survivals. They had known that some operatives lost themselves in the dark and passage of time, some not finding themselves again, or simply never waking up. These four were each others' life lines. In training they watched each others' backs, ate together, and at night spoke of all that they had never known. They were powerful for their ages, constant training hardening their muscles, hearts, and minds. In them still lived the children that they should have been, but everyday those shades grew fainter as they were replaced by the cold and indifferent killers they were trained to be. The sassy Southern belle known as Rogue had become a fierce and nigh unstoppable destroyer, efficient and bitter. The only tenderness or care she showed were toward the three beside her. Kayla had grown lovely, but the inner and outer beauty was dimmed under the hard mask that few had ever seen her without. Rowan was shrewd, calculating, and brilliant both in combat and in strategy. However, no matter how intelligent he became he couldn't save his friends from this bare and merciless prison. Remy was as protective of his friends as the patriarch wolf of a pack, unafraid of any deed he would commit to protect them. In them all was a hero, but the growing inner darknesses were warping them into machines: destructive and unemotional. Only each other could pull one of their number back from that darkness that had scarred their souls as well as their bodies.

As they walked down the corridors they spoke softly. They didn't look at each other or raise their voices.

"Did you hear what happened a few days ago?" Kayla asked with her gaze fixed ahead of her.

"Course we did, how can dey keep a secret in dis place." Remy responded and they all nodded. It had happened again. They weren't there to witness it, but they had heard that something strange had happened with one of the operatives. None of them knew exactly what had been happening lately, but they heard stories of kids suddenly beginning to glow, or destroying objects without a weapon, or even defying gravity. The first time such an incident had occurred they hadn't half believed it, thinking it was just kids hallucinating from exhaustion again, but when it began to happen over and over again they had to accept that something was changing among their fellow trainees.

Rogue spoke as they entered for dinner. "How many is that now? Isn't this the sixth person now?"

"Seventh." Rowan corrected her. "Another one occurred a few months ago. Not many noticed since it was the middle of the night, but I was awake at the time and heard the commotion."

They sat down to the usual routine of hardly paying attention to what they ate and just talked quietly. Kayla and Rowan continued discussing the reoccurring phenomena, but Rogue was distracted by Remy who was rubbing his arms and flexing his fingers with a tight expression on his face.

"What's the matter?"

Remy's unusual eyes flickered to her. "Nothin' much. Jus' been feelin' really sore lately an' I don' know why."

Rogue felt concern for her nearly lifelong friend, the near constant bitterness in her eyes softening. "Are ya sure ya don' need anything? Ya might have strained somethin' in trainin'."

"Nah Rogue, I'm fine." He reached out to finish his dinner. Suddenly he gasped. It felt like red hot needles were poking him at the wrists and fingertips. In one brief moment, he realized a whole new sensation. He could feel motion in everything, even the vibrations of the dust motes in the air. Warmth glowed from almost everything and he could feel it connected to him in small strings of pulsing energy.

His hand clamped on his water bottle, trying desperately to cling to something while waiting out this new found pain, waiting for it to fade into the background like everything else. It didn't, instead it intensified in his hand like a roaring flame. He could feel the water bottle in his bare hand begin to shake slightly and he could hear a humming noise that was growing steadily louder.

Remy's three friends had heard his gasp and Rogue reached forward anxiously. "Remy, what's wrong?" Then she looked down at his hand and gasped. His trembling fingers were clutched around his water bottle, and the skin was glowing with an unnatural fuschia light. The light grew brighter and flowed out over the surface of the metal, setting the whole thing burning like a dry torch. Remy jumped up and dropped the cup, his eyes flying open from where they had been clenched shut. They flamed like they never had before, the fuschia-red hellish and demonic.

The cup hit the floor and detonated with a crack and screech, the blast toppling the table where his friends sat. They lunged away before shredded metal could cut into them.

Remy staggered, his eyes still blazing, and he tumbled backward into another table. His bare hand brushed the edge and that began to glow too. The operatives around them scattered in panic, not knowing what to make of what was happening. The table blew with enough force to send everyone hurtling to the edges of the room, some singed by the heat.

The boy clutched his hands, unable to stop the raging flames in his bones. The energy pulsing through him was wonderful and terrible at the same time and he couldn't align his thoughts or control his actions in his delirium. He yelled as his hand bumped something else, sending the bolts lashing up his arm and into his head all over again. The never ending motion around him swirled like storm clouds and he could feel the delicacy in everything around him, in the very molecules. So fragile, so easy to split, shatter, break and destroy. He clutched his head to stop the pounding.

Large rough hands unexpectedly seized him by the upper arms and he was yanked backwards. Through his bleary eyes he could see his friends lunging for him, Rogue's face the most panicked and also the wildest. Whatever was happening to him, she was willing to fight, to do anything to help him. Before they could reach him four more guards intercepted them. Rogue lunged like a wildcat and began to claw and thrash, but even more guards came and pinned them despite the girl's growls and cries.

"Remy will be fine." He tried to say but his voice only came as a mumble from the whirling in his head. He was pulled back through the eating hall's doors. He tried to shake away the blur and began to fight against the grip restraining him. His attempts were useless when he felt a prick in his arm and the world went fuzzy, like it had all those years ago when he was first brought here. He wondered if he would wake back in New Orleans after a long and frightening dream. No, he knew better. If anything, he would wake somewhere even worse than here.

xxxXXXxxx

Remy's eyes blinked open, his unique vision flinching from the bright light glaring in his face. He registered lying on something cold and hard, even worse then the bed back in his cell. He attempted to sit up but the tight resistence told him he was strapped down. The young teen began to panic and he struggled to free himself. He felt a harsh slap on his head and he twisted to see a man in a white coat staring at him distastfully.

"Stop squirming. The less you move, the sooner this is over." He looked down at a sheet of paper and scrutenized it for a moment before retreating into the relative darkness at the edges of the large room. As Remy registered his surroundings he noticed strange machines and tables holding metal instruments. His mouth went dry. Understatement of the century: this couldn't be good.

He could hear the nasal voice of the man in the coat speaking to someone else, over an intercom or some such thing as he couldn't hear the responses.

"…always knew this boy was going to be one, just look at those demon eyes of his. It was just a matter of time before his mutation manifested itself." Remy was confused. What was a mutation and why were they saying he had one?

"In what form exactly did the mutation appear? Yes…intriguing. I think the Supreme Hydra will be satisfied with a result such as that, if he can be controlled. The specialist? He's on his way now. I must say that he will be delighted with his newest charge, lately he seems rather bored with his subjects so far. Says that they offer no interest, no challenge. I myself prefer to leave the man to his work. Brilliant yes, but completely psychotic. I'll report as soon as he is finished."

The man remerged from the darkness and began to meticulously arrange the instruments. He glared at the boy on the table. "I hope that the specialist arrives soon. I can't stand your kind, but Lady Hydra pays well and I only have to be here to observe. Are you religious?" The man asked out of the blue.

Remy stuttered and didn't really respond. The man grinned evilly. "Better start praying now, cause I think your appointment is about to begin."

Remy whipped his head around to a set of double doors opposite them and he heard the clack of shoes on hard floors. The doors opened and in came another man in a lab coat. He was taller than the other, and his hair was jet black and slicked down neatly. The light in this room was poor, but Remy could tell that his skin was naturally white. Dark glasses or goggles covered his eyes.

He approached the table and smiled at Remy. His teeth were pointed.

"Good evening. I'm sure that this is all new and rather strange for you, but I assure you that soon it will be second nature." The strange man began to set up around him, and Remy felt distinct fear. This man may speak far more amiably than the other, but the strange and frightening nature that he exuded wanted to send Remy running.

Remy gulped. "W-what's goin' on an' what you gonna do ta Remy?"

The pale man didn't look at him again as he replied. "I will be helping you to better understand your amazing new abilities. My name is Dr. Essex." The man removed the shades showing eyes as red as Remy's own. Essex picked up a long needle that had the teen's eyes widening. He tested the tip and then turned to his newest charge.

"Shall we begin?"

xxxXXXxxx

Rogue bounded around her cell, slamming the walls and hammering on the door. The last she had seen of Remy he had been drooping like a dead plant, his face dazed and twisted with pain. She didn't know where they had taken her friend, but she knew that she should be with him; they all should. They had made a promise. Her shoulder slammed the door again.

An insistent knocking echoed from the wall and Kayla's voice was urgent. "Rogue, calm down. I'm just as scared for Remy as you are, but this isn't helping. If you don't stop they'll take you and lock you in the lower levels." Rogue shivered, everyone had been there at some point and it was an experience none wished to repeat: dark, cold, often wet, and as silent as the grave.

Rogue sank down. "What are they gonna do to him? You saw him Kayla, he was in pain."

They turned to listen as the barely heard Rowan spoke up. "I think it happened to Remy too."

"What?" both girls asked.

"The strange things that have been happening lately. The operatives changing and doing impossible things, I think it's happened to Remy too. He was blowing up things with just a touch."

Rowan's logic dawned on them, and they fell to contemplating it. Rogue's mind was racing.

"Eight people now. Ah know it ain't a coincidence now, not after so many people. Rowan, either they're doin' something to us, or we were taken for this very purpose. They wanted this ta happen."

"I've been thinking the same thing. I always knew they were selective with who they took, but I couldn't understand the relationships between us that made us targets." The years of training had honed their minds to think like adults and Rowan was turning into the brainiac of the four. "This must be the reason. These changes that those other kids have gone through, I think it's going to happen to all of us eventually. These were just the first bloomers."

Kayla's thoughtful tone showed she was trying to think straight and simple. "So the reason we're all here is because of these abilities we're supposed to gain. How are we supposed to figure out when they will appear, or in what form?"

"I don't know, but I think HYDRA has a way of knowing. They always seem to know how to deal with the operatives no matter what form their abilities take."

Rogue let out a breath, blowing one of the white streaks of hair from her porcelain face. "This is all very interestin', but what I wanna know is when it'll happen ta us and what they'll do when it does." This met no response.

xxxXXXxxx

Remy bit back the shriek of pain that was building in his throat, unwanted tears welling at the corners of his eyes. He curled in on himself, as much as his restraints allowed, and his hands twitched.

Essex checked the monitor and hummed tunelessly, marking something on a clipboard. "Fascinating."

Remy longed to scream what could possibly be so fascinating that warranted running a high voltage electric shock through him, but the aftermath left him too exhausted to do anything but gasp for breath.

Essex continued to look pleased as he approached Remy. "Very interesting young man. From what I can see, you have massive stamina possibilities, as well as a considerable durability to pain." The only comment he got was a pained moan. The doctor didn't seem put out and simply checked that the electrodes attached all over Remy's skin were still in place.

"I believe I have enough to be able to conduct a real test. I believe that your mutation is actually channeled through your hands, so let us see what happens." Sinister took a small square of cloth and held it to Remy's fingertips. The boy yelped as that heat rushed through him again and the cloth ignited into a merry little flame. Essex's eyes gleamed.

"Promising." He swept the sizzling embers to the floor and instead placed one of his metal instruments in his subject's shaking hand. It blazed magenta and the hand flicked it away desperately. It flew off the table and exploded with a shocking amount of force for such a small object.

"Perfect." Essex turned to check the machines. Remy could feel the sweat on his face and neck. The stabbing pain in his wrists was still flaring. He growled at the vampiric man.

"What is goin' on? Why do ya keep goin' on 'bout my 'mutation'? What on earth is dat?"

Essex turned, eyes gleaming again. "Why, a human mutation is the next step in evolution." Receiving only a blank look Sinister sighed. "Really, HYDRA can certainly provide satisfactory subjects but they don't bother elaborating the most amazing aspects of humanity to those in their possession."

"Have you ever heard of natural selection?" This time Remy nodded. "Well, nature picks out dominant traits in any species to continue to the next generation, making them more capable of surviving. It seems humans are not excluded from this. You, as many others in this world, have the gift of the x-gene which manifests during puberty. This gene gives you abilities that until now humanity could only dream of. This is your mutation, the powers that your x-gene gives you. Because of this you are no longer a simple homo sapien. You are now a Homo superior, a mutant, the newest and strongest race of humans.

Each mutation is slightly different, though they can be very similar to another. Your's is one that I have not yet encountered elsewhere. You my boy, Remy isn't it? You can manipulate kinetic energy around you. For now, that seems drawing out the kinetic energy in whatever you touch and causing said object to break apart violently. However, with time I believe that I can draw out latent aspects of your power that extend for beyond your current limits."

Remy was trying to keep up. So this was what was happening. The adolescents here were changing into mutants. He still wasn't completely clear on the whole mutant concept, but at least something had been explained. He was lucky Essex liked to chat.

As time dragged Essex continued to talk, but he had lost Remy's attention. Said attention was focused on not crying like a newborn at the many painful tests that the mad scientist was conducting. Dr. Essex cut out a square of flesh from his shoulder to see whether skin seperated from the body had the same kinetic manipulative abilities. Needles were poked through him at different points to trigger various nerves that sent him shuddering. He ran more electric shocks through the teen, exposed him to extreme heat and cold to measure what reactions his mutation gave him, made intricate and deep cuts along his arms to expose the muscle beneath, trying to view the flow of kinetic energy through the muscles. This was all done while Remy was still attentive enough to notice. Eventually, as the hurt continued he retreated into his mind. The agony that was growing steadily was like a wall closing in on him, trapping him, and he only had his bare strength holding back oblivion. Remy refused to let out the screams, feeling that his torturer would only get satisfaction. His mind and body begged the torture to end.

At last, Essex peeled off his gloves and disconnected Remy from the machines. The boy lay there panting, blood on his arms and red needle pricks along the torso. He felt too shaky to stand. His vision was drifting in and out of focus, but not from drugs this time. He vaguely heard Essex speaking to him.

"That was certainly enlightening. I will be seeing you again soon Remy." Remy analyzed those words before he passed out. Again? He would have to endure this again? Wasn't the psycho sadist happy yet?

The next thing that Remy knew his eyes were opening to the familiar sight of his bare cell. Now though, it felt like home and he almost wept in relief. Then he heard what had woken him. A frantic banging on his wall.

"Remy? Y'all right? For God's sake, say somethin'!"

He rolled and winced at the fiery pain, not like being sore after a long day but a piercing burn of penetrated skin and flesh. He looked at his arms. They were both bandaged up to the elbow and his hands were covered by thick and strange feeling gloves. He flexed his fingers and pressed his thumb to his bed tentatively. Nothing happened. The gloves must be suppressing his newfound mutation. His head fell back and at last he answered his friend's concerned pleas.

"'M alright Rogue." He cursed his voice, feeling it wavering and weak. The garbled voices of his friends tried to bury him with questions.

"What happened?"

"Where did they take you?"

"Did ya find out what's goin' on?"

His senses felt tender: the light hurt his eyes and their voices stabbed his ears. "Sil vous plait, Rowan, Kayla, Rogue…Remy just need a rest. Moi will explain later."

The voices fell silent, but he could hear the concern in that quiet. He shut it out and rubbed his wrists again. He had changed, and he would never again be what he had been; the flames inside of him proved that. He could still feel that fragility in everything that surrounded him. Having a sudden thought, he tugged at the gloves. Somehow, they wouldn't come off. He searched for a clasp or strap but didn't find one. Remy guessed he should have known; he could blow things up with a touch now, so they weren't going to risk him making an explosive run for it.

He sighed. He didn't know what to make of what he now was. Would he never be able to touch things without these gloves again? Would he ever be able to control this destructive aspect of himself?

His mind was too exhausted to uphold these questions or what might come tomorrow. He was worn out from stress, pain, fear, and uncertainty and as so often happened, the blackness of sleep helped him to escape the chaos that was his young life.

xxxXXXxxx

"So dat's de reason dat dey took us? For our mutations?"

There were murmurs of assent from his friends though he couldn't see them. He didn't know how long he had slept, but his friends were waiting for him when he woke. Again, they had asked him how he was. He told them of what had happened to him, glossing over the amount of pain he had been in; no sense in burdening them with that knowledge. Then again, if what they had told him of their assumptions, maybe it was best that he brace them for what was to come if they were to become mutants. The true magnitude of what this meant had begun to sink in and he was struggling to remain above it, to keep his head clear and to remember that even if he was no longer human, he was still Remy.

"Dey wan' us as dere human weapons. All of us is doomed to de same fate. Jus' a matter of when it happens."

Rogue's voice growled. On the surface it was pure fury, but underneath they could hear all shaky insecurity and anxiety they felt themselves."It's not enough they keep us locked up lahke animals, now we know we ain't even meant ta be human."

xxxXXXxxx

The clocks have ceased, day blends with night,

memories blur with age and the dust of long lost years.

Have they forgotten me? Who would look for me?

One never truly makes it back –

Once one is lost in time.

There was a hollow slamming out in the hallway. It was accompanied by screams and howls worthy of a feral animal. The teens all pressed themselves to their walls, listening to HYDRA's newest mutant operative being dragged away. They felt a strange pulsing around them. They began to feel anger and terror. Without conscious thought they began to yell themselves, pounding on the doors and roaring like a raging sea. Another door slammed and the cries of the mutant died away. The rampant emotions died within them and they sank back in the dark, exhausted and silent once again.

The day was over and the operatives were being led back to their cells. Suddenly a gurney emerged from one of the hallways. On it lay the body of a pale girl with forest green hair. Her face was ash white and still, and blood congealed in dark trails from her slightly parted mouth and closed eyes. A wail broke from the group and an identical girl with brown hair lunged forward. She was pushed back and sheparded down the hallway, away from the dead body of her twin, yet another who had been lost in the void.

Remy reentered his cell. He could feel the blood and blisters under the bandages on his gloved hands. His muscles were screaming at him, even worse than they had in the old days. He looked back on those days with an almost fondness. Now he was almost constantly testing his powers, forced into rigorous and often agonizing tests by Dr. Essex. The operatives who had gained their powers had another name for him. The man with the pale face, pointed fangs, and red eyes was known to them only as Mr. Sinister.

As he sat himself on his bed, he felt the sensation again. Not the tingling pricks that his powers created, but that cold humming and pressure in his ears that had grown to familiar over the few years that he had become familiar with it. He moved toward the right wall.

"Rowan. What's wrong homme?" The humming grew in intensity and Remy shivered as the chill seized his bones and his ears popped. Rowan's powers, no matter how often he experienced them these days, were highly uncomfortable. From the level they were working now something had Rowan very near terrified.

Rowan only offered one word. "Kayla." Remy understood; her mutation had manifested. He muttered a prayer to whoever was listening to watch over the girl. The hours passed slowly. Soon, Rogue had joined them and found out about the fate of their friend. They sat in silence and waited for her to return.

Eventually, the clanging of the far left door alerted them. Before they could say anything, pain assaulted their heads and they fell to their knees as a piercing ring echoed in their skulls. Through it they could hear Kayla's voice, but it was muttering and crying deep within their minds, double timbered and sounded like it was coming from the depths of a cave. "Pain…make it sto-*gasp…who are all of you? So many, ca-can't stand it. What's happening to me?"

Rogue sat in whispering grass in an open field. It was better than anything she had seen in years, but she knew it was all fake. The dreaming sky was shadowed by the steel ceiling, the grass felt like smoke against her legs, and she could feel the stale air that contradicted the breeze that was blowing her hair. Even in her dreams she was imprisoned.

xxxXXXxxx

The day had started like any other. Waking up, a beginning session, a meager breakfast, and back to training. She had been training her speed and dexterity with Remy. It had been going so well, then the star blade sped toward her. She threw herself backwards but she could feel it cut her face, just missing the surface of her gray green eye. She had felt her body connect to the ground, hear Remy's voice calling to her, and his warm and calloused hands lifting her and caressing her face as he wiped away the trickles of blood.

That was when it had happened. She had been expecting it ever since Kayla's telepathy had appeared, but nothing could have prepared her for this.

Where his palms held her white cheeks heat blazed like hot irons. This she barely registered. She felt instead the awakening of every cell in her body; if she could see herself she would have thought that every inch of her would have been glowing. They all seemed connected in electric tendrils to the roughened skin of Remy's hands and through those connections flooded waves of color, light, and pain. They smashed into her mind that was tossed as a boat would be in a storm. Pounding on every inch of her brain were images and information. Her eyes snapped open and she could see heat, light, colors that she had never seen before. The thoughts in her mind were not hers: the foggy pictures of that glorious city, her own face as it had been when she had first arrived, the raze of kinetic power surging through her limbs, and always a cloud of worry and fierce protectiveness. For a moment, she couldn't recall her own name.

A heavy weight collapsed on top of her and the hands fell away. The flashes of light ceased and Rogue lay whimpering, too weak to extract herself from beneath Remy's prone body. She could hear shouting as she at last managed to roll him off. Her breath caught in her throat. His face, no longer a boy's but a man's, was a blank mask. His red on black eyes were still open, but utterly devoid of anything and dim. The veins stood out in his forehead and neck and his skin was gray.

Rogue choked. What had she done to her friend? Unbidden, a voice that she knew better than any other spoke inside her head.

"It's alright Rogue chere. Remy'll be fine." She gasped as pain twinged in her temples as Remy's voice spoke to her. She didn't attempt to fight as the technicians strapped her and Remy to separate gurneys as she tried to recall whether she was the Rogue that the voice spoke of. She might have been, but her mind didn't recognize this body. Maybe it did, but…everything was a jumbled mess.

Lights flashed by above her on the ceiling, before bare skin brushed her cheek. She screamed as a burst of lights erupted around her and the man that had accidently touched her. He collapsed and Rogue's mind was thrown back into chaos. Her name was Dr. Joshua Martin, a specialist for HYDRA with a wife…no, she was Remy, wasn't she? No, Rogue. That's who she was. She strove to shove away memories and identities that were not hers. "Remember who ya are, don't lose sight o' who ya are."

Doors slammed open and she was in a room that she recognized. When Kayla was frightened this room would be projected into their thoughts, the place where Mr. Sinister would torture his subjects like worthless lab rats.

The man was already there. Rogue had never seen him before now, but the whispered descriptions rang true. His red eyes glinted with inhuman glee as he took in the girl and her unconscious victim, looking into red and black eyes that were not hers.

"At last. I have been hoping to see this young woman for some time. The girl with the poisonous skin. This should be fun."

I lie here in these winter woods –

that are condemned to bloom never again.

I have lost, the race is done, I am left in the dust.

No more chasing after time, it shall never again be mine;

forgotten, a corpse, I shall rest, my grave awaits me.

The pale white lily shall be my stone –

soon to wither, soon to die,

like all souls lost in time.