Sorry people, but the card's significance is going to have to wait. And as for the delay, still re-adjusting to being back in America. Never fear, will have plenty of time this summer.
To amakusa and Selene16, considering ITT's end. I think the last ending was simplistic – because I was planning a sequel. I like happy endings (and remember! We were seeing only from Remy's side the chapters before the end – Rogue gets to see Remy make a really tough choice about the Morlocks; he's changed/changing – I'll address this in TTMA). But yes relationships don't just magically get better, they need work – and there are more to Rogue and Remy's issues that they need to deal with. Especially considering Rogue in Evo is lacking something important to the comics – read on to see.
To my reviewers (including newest from ITT!), thanks! E, xOrhidejax (welcome! And I'm glad you came across mine so early), selina (lol!), drumgirl1923, PrincessRhia (totally agree about Kitty!), Rogue14, Wiccamage (ah description, my achilles' heel, trying to work on that), .writer, CaraM (lol!), roguerulez, Rogue181, Sassyx22x, AnimeWhore666DOOM (:)), deGorgeous (I wanted their practice to change, not just be oversexed play), drumgirl1923, allyg1990 (yes, 666 reviews was unnerving, thanks!), and samson28.
And thanks for the fanart Lizzieturbo – and may I say I love your 'Normal' series! I just read it and I'll be reviewing in a bit!
Favorite quotes: Puck'slastlove on the card - "It means rogue, HELP please, I've been lady'sman-napped!" LOL!
Chica De Los Ojos Café – "No one can ever say you don't write very deep, complicated pieces that's for sure." Thanks!
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Live free or...
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Red eyes intently surveyed the stainless steel tables before him, the girl strapped to the table straining but unable to free her hand from its tied position to the person next to her.
He made a quick notation on the computer. The absorber was trying to control her mutation, thwarting his experiments, but her control was still quite weak. It would be broken in no time. And then, well, he had something he was just dying to introduce her to…
He hummed under his breath and spoke. "Scrambler."
The mutant in the shadows jumped, but then nervously edged forward, giving the experiment an uneasy look. Essex ignored that.
"Return the Sentinel to the government with our apologies for the damage sustained. And inform the Air Force we were unable to find their missing agent. Tell them we also haven't picked up any reports of her contacting any of the mutant underground for any kind of physical or mental aid." Il Jong nodded as Essex's lips quirked up. It was ironic how trusting the government could be with 'harmless', innovative scientists. When it was clear his underling didn't move, he answered the man's unspoken question.
"Your services won't be further needed," he dismissed the man. If anything, they got in the way of testing; it was hard to study a mutation when its effects had been negated. Il Jong shuffled his feet.
"Are you sure? The feral and the boy with lasers-"
Essex snorted. "Please, he's idiotically easy to contain. As long as his hands and neck is restrained, he's basically harmless thanks to that simple visor he wears. An elegantly simple solution," he mused to himself. "And as for the feral, magnetic bonds are quite sufficient to cage him."
It was a shame he'd had to also have the redhead's powers scrambled – but with her mentor a strong psychic, he couldn't risk her coming to at any point and contacting the man.
Which reminded him, "After you finish your errands, prep the redhead for Lab 2-6. I want to take some samples from her while the absorber here takes a break – and then after the boyfriend."
Il Jong nodded and giving one last shiver towards the mutants shuddering on the tables beyond the glass, he left.
o
Rogue wrapped her arms around herself, as tight as she could given her bindings, as if that would be able to contain the chaos in her mind.
Why am I here?
I have to get outta here!
Odio este lugar! No puedo sentirme bien. (I hate this place! I can't feel right.)
Flashes of places, colors – faded, black bars, girls smiling, hair drifting in the wind, the piercing of a needle – Rogue, Rogue, Rogue, Rogue, Rogue – her own name, born name meant nothing in this place, these beings crowding her head; only the name of what she had become, who she had to be.
Her mind was torn in a thousand different directions, each psyche crying its woes for only her to hear, her who could do nothing, who couldn't stop as Sinister forced her on one after another, "interesting," who had to still stay in one piece, one body – Rogue, Rogue, Rogue "Rogue, Rogue, Rogue, Rogue."
"Hey, who's there?"
"Rogue," she said, still trapped and not entirely aware the voice had come from outside her head. The sound of chains scraping the floor jerked her from her daze however.
"Lt. Carol Danvers, USAF." Blonde hair peaked out of the bars out of the left corner of Rogue's eye. Hesitantly she inched to the front of her cell, to get a slanting view.
"AF?" Now distracted, the voices lulled for a moment.
"Air Force," the woman's lips twisted into a brief, joyless smile. Rogue shuffled forward a bit more, trying to see her better. The woman would have been pretty, but her blond hair was dull and tangled, her face showing lines of gauntness and stress. She was the first person Rogue had seen off an examination table. Her stomach twisted.
"What are you doing here?" Rogue hoarsely whispered.
"Same as you. I'm a mutant," again the same sardonic smile flashed with blue eyes glinting in the poor light, "Kinda."
"Oh." Kinda? No one in her head understood that comment – and contemplating it just made the psyches spin out again – she rested her head against the cold metal bars.
"So what does the exalted scientist want with you?" There was a forced cheerfulness in Carol's voice, echoed by the tight lines around her mouth. "I've got flight, invulnerability, and superstrength–" Rogue's eyes fell to her bindings and Carol's joviality waned. "Well, not at the moment. That damn Korean-"
"Scrambler," Rogue muttered, her mind flashing images.
She didn't see Carol's sudden assessing look. But Carol asked instead, "So what's yours?"
"Can take powers, memories, everything." She closed her eyes, feeling herself beginning to lose coherence again. They, people, shadows, sloshed, screamed within her, tangling and clashing, smashing into each other. Into her? She blearily opened them back up to a loud clang to the bars and the sight of Carol's face mashed against them.
"Hey stay with me kid. How can you take powers? Did Scrambler work you over too?"
She shook her head, wishing, wishing… As if Sinister would've been that kind. Potential. Unthinkingly, she waved a gloved hand. "Touch."
Carol's face blurred and then got clear again, harsh lines now alight with interest. Eyes like shards of sapphires… "So you could take my powers."
It took a moment for Rogue to understand. For the words to sink past the slithering voices that bound her. She tried to shake her head, but even the thought turned her stomach inside out.
"C'mon kid," voice cajoling, gentle – not the caramel-coated tones of her boyfriend, tempting her into acquiescence – Remy where are you? she thought almost despairingly. "This'll be our best way out." Carol took quick stock of the gloves again. "Can't get to your hands – can you absorb through any skin?"
Rogue shuddered. "Untouchable-" But hadn't that been her past? Remy's smile faded in her mind and suddenly all she could hear was the crying in her head.
"Unbreakable," the word was a wisp – and Rogue couldn't be sure she'd heard the softened sympathetic lilt.
But Carol was intent. "I'll take that as yes." She stuck her hands through the bars, but could only reach to the space right outside Rogue's bars, at the very edge where the two cells met. "C'mon Rogue. Work with me," she said through gritted teeth and Rogue could read the mirror of despair. "We gotta get out of this hellhole."
She couldn't take anymore, she just couldn't – she had to get out. The chorus in her head crescendoed at that thought.
Rogue scooted over, leaning her heavy head against the bars as she tried to struggle with her gloves. Belatedly she realized the restraints were over the gloves. There was no way to take them off.
Carol had realized it before she did. "Have to be the face."
Hands obscenely strong grabbed her face and Rogue couldn't fight the invasion; No! she couldn't…
Her gloved hands rose – and then sank in forfeit.
There was too little left of her to scream.
o
The com link flashed fire red and Storm pressed it, hoping for good news.
"I'm sending you exact coordinates," Xavier's voice crackled only a little over the radio due to the speed of the jet. "Proceed with all speed."
Storm froze, even as everyone else in the jet noticeably livened up, Avalanche letting loose a 'finally.' Exact coordinates – that could only mean…
With sure movements that belied her trepidation, she switched the com into headset mode. "Who is it?"
There was a pause when Storm could only hear the pounding of her own heart. "Rogue. Her signature – you just need to get there." Storm closed her eyes.
"Understood."
And silently she prayed.
o
Carol awoke with a jar, her hands going out to brace herself for a landing that was unnecessary. The chains around her hands creaked and then cracked from the pressure. She blinked. She had her strength again? The girl's mutation – it must've reversed that damn Korean's power. Eagerly, she broke all of her shackles off – it had been far too long since she had felt like herself – before she turned to her right to check on the girl. Except that was the wrong way.
What?
She felt light-headed and space seemed to tilt for a moment – but she shook off the feeling and simply turned to her left. She must've gotten confused.
Carol could see the slump of another body to her left, but she'd fallen to her side and she couldn't see beyond the girl's torso. Hmm, the 'kinda' part of her mutation must've reacted poorly with the girl's mutation. It must have backfired. Still, at least she was back to form.
She opened her mouth to call the girl's name, but found she couldn't remember it. She should've felt bad, but the vertigo teased the edge of her senses again and she had to dismiss it again.
Deciding what to do was simple – how many times had she imagined this situation, sitting on that antiseptic floor, staring at those thick walls that trapped her in? She slammed through them, breaching a hole in the middle and breaking through eight different cells at once – she snapped the chains of the last prisoner. His configuration was different from the others, both neck and wrists chained to opposite sides of the cell. It was obvious it had been deliberate and she had a feeling he'd be able to free the others.
Shouldn't she go back herself? The thought could only give her a small pause. Her fists ached and her blood burned to get to the one who had trapped her in. Sinister.
"Rogue?" The vertigo hit her unaware and she lost a foot of altitude – that was the other girl's name! Carol turned to the boy gaping at her, his eyes shielded, her face battle-ready.
"You must be one of her friends. She's back down the row," she made a small wave. "You should help the others." She turned to the door, vengeance pressing against her chest, scarcely contained.
"But-"
"I have a scientist to deal with."
"Scott!" a girl's voice sounded from the neighbor cell and she slammed through the door inelegantly. Alarms flared immediately, sounding off.
Her lips curled into a smile, as shades of red lit her way.
o
Jean stumbled as the man jerked at her at the exact wrong time. It was hard to move with her legs chained together, her hands handcuffed behind her back. It didn't help that her mind felt in an absolute fog. You never know what you got 'til it's gone. Jean hadn't experienced a loss of her powers since their manifestation.
And it felt uncomfortably like being blindfolded while naked.
The silent Asian man jerked her again as they came up to a sealed door. She bumped into the wall, watching as he leaned forward for a retinal scan and then submitted to a needle prick.
A blood test to get through a door?
Unreal.
But then what about this nightmare was real? She hadn't seen hide nor hair of anyone she knew since the Sentinel, hadn't seen anyone really until this man, not knowing who he was so terrifying for someone who usually picked it up even without intruding, had dragged her from her cell.
Scott.
Her heart twisted at the thought of her fiancée – she couldn't even sense if he was alive-
The man's jerk took her off-guard as he pulled her through the open door and she saw her fate for the first time. An examination table.
Oh God.
She backed up without realizing it. The man she was with scowled. "Come on, I don't have all the time in the world." He made her resistance sound like an inconvenience. He reached for her –
The world turned red – and as the air trembled with sirens, she took advantage of the Asian's transformation into a nervous wreck, scanning all around them as if devils were about to pop out from the floor. She slammed her shoulder into his stomach, turning to slam her fisted hands into shaking him off and unto the floor. She would've taken off even as hobbled as she was, but there was nowhere to hide, only another door – the man was slowly getting up from the floor, shaking his head.
There was only one choice – twisting herself into a shape that made her obscenely glad for her fiancée's insistence on all sorts of Danger Room activities, she managed to bring her bound arms from her back to her front. She made her way to the exam tray and grabbed a needle. Jabbing it into his back, she prayed she'd judged him right. He went rigid.
Sirens still whaling, she hissed at him, "Open the door." Trembling, the man took a step towards the door leading back to the corridor, but grabbing his shirt, she dragged him back. There'd be guards racing down that hallway, no doubt. She needed to have her hands free first. "The other one."
They inched their way over, every moment seeming like an eternity. He went through the motions to open the door and lights turned on as they stepped forward. Jean's spine prickled at the sight of large glass canisters, each filled with dimly glowing liquid. The one forefront, something swirled in its depths, and unconsciously her grip on her former captor loosened. When she tore her eyes off it, to despairingly look around for a nonexistent something to break her bonds, it was too late.
He ripped away from her grip, hand immediately going to wrestle the needle from her hand. It was a lost battle, her wrists were still locked together and she couldn't get leverage – she let go and scrambled away. He dropped the needle and crushed it on the floor; obviously he wanted as little to do with the contents as she did – and for the very first time, it crossed her mind he might be a mutant.
Damn.
And she didn't know what his mutation was.
Double damn.
He put his hands up placatingly, keeping his twitching eyes on her. "Look. Just, just calm down. I'll take you back to your cell," she could almost believe him, as if she even wanted to go 'back', "I'll just tell Sinister-" It was the wrong thing to say. Lie to a telepath? She'd fought him, seen his strength.
She backed up more, until she felt cool glass against her back. Swallowing as her guard stepped closer, she felt her way around the canister, then took a deep breath before wedging herself and hoisting her legs unto the top of the attached console. Scrambling into a standing position, she moved back, missing the man's lunge by seconds. He looked worried now and wrung his hands.
"Please just come down. If anything happens to this stuff, oh Essex is going to kill me," the last part was more muttered than anything and Jean tried to figure out how she could turn this to her advantage.
She never had time.
The room shuddered even as the sirens were suddenly backed up warning protocols. Jean nearly slipped off the console, her hands trying to steady against the slick glass and her feet scrabbling over controls. She hit something – the glass started to tilt and she suddenly felt herself start to fall.
The next moments were snapshots – the man's wide dark eyes, the tremendous crack of glass, frigid cold, a stabbing pain in her side, a scream turned to gurgling as her face met the floor, unable to breathe, cutting into her ankles, wrists –
No! help me……..
Jean closed her eyes to the eerie pulsating liquid.
o
Finding him was ridiculously easy. She could almost feel a tug directing her in his direction. Floating above the floor, she broke through another door with reckless disdain, feeling lasers ping pointlessly off her skin.
"So you broke out," and there he was. Just the sight of him made her want to rip him apart, piece by pale piece. A fleeting thought – had she always been this blood-thirsty? "I can't say I wasn't-" he turned from the surveillance console he'd been watching, then stopped short.
"Surprised Essex?" Her fists tightened. "This has been a long time coming." He cocked her head.
"Rogue?" He raised an eyebrow and she felt the fabric of space around her warp. That name…
"Lt. Carol Danvers, USAF," her voice sounded mechanical, an echo, and her head began to throb. What was he doing to her? No, he couldn't touch her – touch?
He smirked. "Well, this was unexpected. But how interesting."
She involuntarily backed up as he took a step forward, with a start, realizing she'd returned to the ground. She shook her head, firming her stance. "I'm here for your head," she growled.
"But which head is yours?" he mused, with that damn smirk and his eyes glowed.
No!
The name is Rogue!
And madness broke out.