Disclaimer: Don't own them!
Chapter 8: Hunger.
It all started when she was 16.
She opened her eyes one morning and even though there was a nice temperature, more on the cool side, she was sweating like a chicken in the oven. Or so she told herself. She sat up in her bed and placed a hand over her chest: her heart was pounding fast. Maybe she'd had a bad dream? Whatever the reason, a shower should make her feel better.
But she wasn't herself, not during breakfast and not during the training session, later on in the morning. Mystique was barking orders from a sort of podium they had in this metallic room, which they pet named "the Box". Rogue was waiting for her turn to jump to the ground and start dodging obstacles, handling the other guys' powers and climbing up exercise walls, but as Toad hopped from here to there and Quicksilver rushed around doing what he usually does, all she could focus was on Lance's biceps, who was there by her side, waiting too. He was chewing on something (gum, a piece of paper) completely ignoring the well known rule about not using cell phones in there. A smile crept on her face, without her even realizing. She had never noticed he was this fit, and they had been living under the same roof for almost a year. Her lips felt dry and her stomach was doing a happy little dance she hadn't known before. How odd, he was kind of handsome in his own way, with that longish hair and strong jaw…
"…and don't make me say it twice!" Mystique's yell broke her contemplation.
"Coming! Damn…" Lance sighed, giving an eye roll to Rogue before heading to the arena.
What's wrong with yah? This is Avalanche, he's a total brick head. Put yourself together.
She ran her hands over her face, trying to get rid of these nonsense thoughts, but there was still something in her. It was a turbulence, something that made her feel at the edge of herself, more and more every second.
Some minutes later, she was also running and hopping in the Box, and it made her feel somewhat better, releasing a bit of the tension that was choking her insides. Then, something came from a side and tackled her, sending her straight to the ground.
"Got you!" he said, sitting on top of her. "So what's the Rogue gonna do now, eh?"
It was Pyro and his queasy smile.
He had nice teeth though, and that hair color sure suited him.
She couldn't help to smile; he seemed so strong up there, and he had always had a thing for her. Well, all guys in the house did and it made sense, considering she was the only girl. She had done a good job so far at keeping them at bay, but now, John… that was a nice name, why did everyone called him Pyro? John sounded better, he was quite the freak but that made him very original and interesting and…
"Rope climbing time, let's go!" Mystique let them know.
Pyro got off of her, not without giving her an uncertain look, most likely because this was the first time Rogue ever smiled at him.
She took another shower before lunch, this time, with the water almost at freezing temperature. She didn't recognize herself in that person from the morning, who had been drooling over two of the most idiotic guys on Earth.
They all sat around the table during lunch, Rogue's stare hardly leaving the confines of her plate, only to pick up some more beans and…
There was Lance's big arm again, as he poured himself some juice.
She had to make an effort to hide her quick breathe, which was this close to giving her away.
The afternoon was their time off, so Rogue locked herself in her bedroom and spent the next few hours either walking back and forth a distance of fifteen feet, rolling around in her bed, zapping nonstop, scrolling down out of control in her computer or fanning herself with a magazine. This had never happened to her and she got to think it was a weird type of the flu she had caught. It should be gone soon, it had to.
It was during the twilight that someone knocked on her door.
After wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans, she opened up.
"Hey Rogue, I was wondering if you have a USB cable I can borrow?"
He was just standing there, staring at her uninterestedly, but it'd be accurate to say something similar to a torrent of fire traversed her like a knife. She vaporized from her solid, human state, to become something hot and liquid, and something that definitely did not reason at all.
Lance seemed to notice something was off:
"Eh, you okay?" he said all weirded out.
But before he could do anything else, she pulled him inside the bedroom and pushed him against the wall, kissing him and wrapping legs and arms around him.
"Rogue, what the…?" his puzzlement was quickly replaced by an I-can't-believe-my-luck grin: "All right!"
(...)
It was dark outside, when they were putting their clothes back on in a hurry.
"I… I'll get you one of those pills. Just in case, okay?"
All the heat had disappeared and had been replaced by some kind of coldness. Yes, it was exactly that: she was frozen.
"Okay" she uttered, not even beginning to grasp what had just happened.
"I'll go buy it. I'll be right back."
When he was gone, she sat at the border of her disordered bed, eyes stuck on the floor.
It still hurt.
What had she just done?
It didn't feel real, like she was somehow coming back from a drunken state. It couldn't be real. Had she just… had her first time with… Lance, with no protection and for no reason? She didn't love him or like him, she didn't even think he was remotely cute, they weren't friends either, it had always just been a distant relationship and now, what was this?
Besides frozen, she was also horrified, revolted of herself. In an impulse, she ran to the bathroom and tried to puke, but couldn't. Then, shuddering all over, went back to the bed and lied there, not even being able to cry.
(…)
Lance had come back about an hour later. She opened up, took the thing and closed the door in his face. The next day had passed by like the aftermath of a hangover or a fever. She had done everything she usually did (breakfast, training, lunch, washing the dishes) but in a robotic state, unable to match the facts of the previous day with the person that inhabited her body.
She had also avoided Lance at all costs, whenever he was near and tried to say something to her or establish eye contact.
It was mid afternoon when there was, once again, a knock on her door.
"Rogue? It's me."
Goddamn.
She opened up to face a smirking Lance.
"What's up?" he tried to kiss her but she quickly moved away. He didn't seem too affected by this. "Hey, I bought some condoms" he tapped his hand on his pocket, then tried to leap on her again.
"NO!" she pushed him away and headed to a side of the room.
"Why not?"
"Listen, I don't think yesterday was… right. I mean, we gotta forget it even happened, okay? Please."
"What do you mean? We had a good time, right?" He came closer to her: "I know it was your first time and all, so now it'll be better, you'll see."
"No, no, Lance, sorry, this will never happen again, you have to leave now."
She witnessed the gradual shift in his expression, from content, to eagerness and then upset.
And a moment later, he shoved her against the bed, with him on top.
"Come on Rogue, I know you liked it" he hissed, close to her ear: "You were begging for it."
"If yah don't get the hell off me in the next two seconds, Ah'll absorb your shitty brains out."
He fixated his eyes on hers and knew that, as usual, she wasn't kidding.
"What's wrong?" he asked again, gatting on his feet.
"What's wrong's that no means no, asshole" she said, getting up: "Now get out and forget 'bout all of this, and Ah'll forget to tell Mystique yah tried to drug rape me."
"But… but… I didn't…" he stuttered.
"GET OUT!"
When he left, she took another shower and crawled into her bed, even though it wasn't even 6 pm.
She cried herself to sleep.
(…)
The third time it happened she was 17 already, and she had started noticing a pattern and, of course, recognizing the… symptoms: every (almost exactly) four months, it started when she woke up in the morning and lasted about 24 hours. So, if she managed to make it through the day, it would be gone by the next morning.
But she couldn't just settle for that.
Luckily, Mystique wasn't in the house that afternoon, so she headed to her private offices. A previous research had let her know the access codes and all of the stuff she needed to get into the main computer, only accessible to Raven.
She pressed the Enter key with a shaky hand, taking a large sip of freezing cold lemonade with the other.
This was her personal file. She had never seen it before. It contained data about her powers and physical characteristics, and also about Alaska. She knew she hadn't been born in a normal way, like the other guys. She knew she was conceived as a part of an experiment, like a lab rat, making her a freak even among freaks. But she had never known so many details of the whole thing.
It gave her a pang in the stomach to see that the Progenitors line read Unknown.
But she had other goals that day, so she continued.
She opened up another tab. Genetic manipulation. DNA alterations. She read the entire thing with wide eyes, not even caring anymore if Mystique appeared all of a sudden. Her extra powers: stealth and agility, not invincible, but certainly above average. Another gulp of lemonade, until the glass was empty, and she found it.
The main words stayed stuck in her head: feline DNA. Tri-annual. Heat. Mating. Procreating.
She was, indeed, just what they made her: an animal.
(…)
What was left of those hellish 24 hours she spent them in her room, desperately praying to achieve what she had done the previous time, four months ago: she had managed to keep herself under control, not without taking 4 sleeping pills that nearly knocked her out for good. She didn't want to do that again. She had to prove herself that she wasn't some piece of an experiment, an expendable ingredient of a messed up attempt at playing God. She was a person, with a freaking brain inside her skull, so it was necessary to act according to that.
She drank about a gallon of water, then alternated cold showers with push ups and chocolate bars.
It was consuming. She tried to read Alice in Wonderland and to watch a cartoon movie, but she just felt possessed by this hunger, this urge to forget about herself and the world, and simply find a man to…
…Mating. Procreating…
NO!
She had been lucky enough the first time (the only time so far, really) with Lance. Maybe it was the pill he got her, who knew. But she would never risk that way again. It was just… pathetic. She felt pathetic.
Finally, the clock had a little mercy on her. Birds started chirping, it got a bit orangey clear out there. And it simply faded away. She realized it started to diminish, like a headache does and suddenly your forehead feels a bit fresh. Then, about fifteen minutes later, it was entirely gone, leaving her exhausted, sleepless and with a mess of a bedroom.
But she had made it. She'd have four months of peace, and would have to deal with it again later on. It felt like this was some sort of monster that shadowed her and was ready to jump at her and make her betray herself... animal, monster… she was both.
Note: Well guys, this was very intense to write. Messed up and heavy stuff too, I know, but it felt right to write it. I got kind of engrossed by it, and ended up writing detailed things I hadn't even really planned. Next chapter, we'll continue with the flashbacks. Thanks for reading and pleaaaaaase don't leave without telling me what you think of this.