Title: The House of the Rising Sun, Chapter 2
Author: Goddess Evie
Date: October 15, 2002
Genre: Romance (Remy/Rogue, Scott/Jean, Lance/Kitty), Action, Drama, Angst, AU, heck, it's got it all…just not all in this chapter-prologue thingie. ^_^
Rating: G, and I really don't think this'll get above PG.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own X-Men of any incarnation. I am but a poor, fanatical, poor, college student who much enjoys a show so that she writes extensive (and hopefully intriguing, enjoyable, and highly popular) fanfiction to feed her insatiable hunger for anything X-Men and is poor, if I haven't mentioned that already. Also, the song lyric I use as the optional title doesn't belong to me either. I'm quoting the song "I Love You" by Sarah McLachlan, my absolute favorite-est artist in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD!!! Which is why you shouldn't be surprised when you see so many of her song lyrics as Chapter titles, though I AM trying to throw some variety in there, I swear! But, sadly, I own nothing but the plot so don't sue me cause I can't even pay for college! WAAAAH!
Summary: And moving on, everyone is heading towards one place, though they don't realize they're destination is more or less the same. Evil Mystique and Lance attempting to stick up to her. The reminiscing of both Rogue and Remy about each other. Logan's first appearance. And Scott's guilt and how Rogue ended up in the clutches of the Brotherhood in the first place.
Author's Note: Hmmmm, lotsa angst, thanks to Scott. I'm not a big fan of ANY version of Scott/Cyclops, but I want to be as complete as I can with this fic, so I AM including Scott/Jean HR. Also, having Scott feel self-guilt gives me a chance for some internal conflict, and that's always a good thing. Plus, we get to see if Evan and Kurt really WERE up to something when they were grinning so much at Scott's farewell. Mweheh, ENJOY!!
Chapter 2: "A breath between us could be miles…"
The members of the Brotherhood of Mutants wilted under the intense stare of Mystique beneath the stars of the Louisiana night sky. The woman's yellow-eyed gaze was sufficient to make anybody unlucky enough to be its center of attention curl up, shaking, into the fetal position. Not a one of the boys could meet her eyes directly, each one of them quickly averting their glances when she turned her stare on one of them.
"How could you let her get away again?" Mystique asked through gritted teeth.
"She…she had some help," Lance hesitantly answered.
"Yeah, there were these two guys, yo-" Todd jumped in before he was cut off by Mystique.
"Two guys! There were only Two!! How could you out number them and still lose! This is worse than your rumbles with the X-men!" she paced angrily in front of them, gesturing violently with her arms. Only Pietro's quick reflexes kept him from getting smacked by one of her flailing limbs.
"You weren't there Mystique," Lance tried to stand up for himself and his companions.
"And it's too bad I wasn't or else things would have gone right!" she shot back before Lance could voice his arguments.
"Sorry, Mystique," was Fred's contribution, which only succeeded in gaining him a ferocious glare from the shape shifter that sent the behemoth backing away from the woman a step or two.
"Well maybe if we got training like the X-men," Lance muttered defiantly.
"If you want to be like the X-men then go join them!" Mystique snarled at Lance, putting her face up close to his for emphasis.
"Yeah, and then you can be closer to Kitty," Pietro commented snidely, eliciting snickers from Todd and Fred, an angry blush from Lance and a growl from Mystique that had the same effect on the foursome as a drill Sergeant's "Ten Hut" would have on a bunch of greenies at a boot camp.
Mystique paced for a few moments in the thick silence of the boy's wary stares. Finally she rounded on them to give them their orders.
"Head back to Bayville," she told them. "You'll have to start school again in a couple of weeks anyways. And Fred, make sure you pass the ninth grade this time." Mystique's last comment dripped with sarcasm.
"How are we supposed to get there, yo?" Todd asked.
" I don't know!" Mystique snapped at him.
"You can't just leave us out here on our own, like this," Lance objected incredulously, taking a step toward their commander.
Mystique faced the boy with anger making her eyes seem to throb. But then she backed down, nodding. "You're right," she conceded.
Suddenly turning around she headed to the vehicle that was waiting for her a hundred yards or so away. The boys waited in uneasy silence as she dug around in it and then finally returned to grace their presence.
Here," she shoved her fist at Lance who took a defensive step back.
He eyed the fist she held out toward him, and she silently yet forcefully gestured at him to take it. Tentatively he slid his hand palm up under hers, afraid of some kind of trick from the shape shifter. Immediately she opened her fist, depositing a wad of bills into his hand. Lance nodded as he closed his fingers tightly around the money and held it fast to his side.
"Now get out of my sight," she ordered before returning to her cruiser and speeding off.
"How much did she leave us with?" Todd inquired.
"Fifty bucks if we're lucky," Pietro commented with as much sarcasm as Mystique had earlier used.
"Two hundred dollars," Lance said, quite impressed as he counted the bills in his hand.
"Anybody else got any money?" Fred asked.
At first the question seemed dimwitted, but then the boys began to check the pockets of their civvies. Lance turned up the most with a twenty from his back pocket. Pietro had fifteen and some change. Surprisingly Fred had a fiver and even Todd contributed some small change, not even a dollar, but at least it was something. The total came out to two hundred forty one and twenty-six cents. Folding up the coins in the middle of the bills, Lance shoved the whole thing into one of the front pockets of his jeans. Immediately the others yelled out in objection.
"What are you doing with my money?" Pietro wanted to know.
"We're going to need all we can get if we want to see Bayville anytime soon," Lance explained, loudly exhaling in frustration. "For now everyone's going to have to share. When we get back home you guys can go back to your selfish ways."
The three team members eyed Lance and each other, but all of them finally agreed. Letting out a relieved sigh, Lance turned towards the town they had passed through on their way to rendezvous with Mystique and began walking in that direction. His three comrades soon joined him, Pietro keeping his pace with the others for once instead of zipping around.
"I think I remember passing a bus station on our way through," Lance mumbled to himself wondering if they had enough for tickets.
"I'm hungry," Fred called out.
His comment was ignored as the boys settled in for a long, long journey back to New York.
All of Logan's hard work and tracking had finally led him to some substantial evidence, more specifically an isolated airstrip out in the middle of nowhere of Louisiana. It wasn't an abandoned airstrip; it looked too well kept for that. But he figured it probably wasn't on any maps, at least not public ones, and that nobody without proper authorization was supposed to know about it. Logan hated secret military bases.
That didn't answer his question though: What was Rogue's scent doing all over it? He'd picked it up on the road a couple of miles back and had followed it here. Unfortunately, it hadn't been only hers that he'd smelled. There were traces of the Brotherhood of Mutant's scents also, strong ones. He'd thought perhaps that back at the road he might have smelled Mystique also, but he couldn't find any trace of it here so he wasn't sure.
But the Brotherhood only mattered if Logan ran into them, and he could take care of them all single-handed. For now he needed to concentrate on Rogue's scent before it faded too much for him to pick it up. For a moment he thought he'd lost the smell that was unique to her, but then he picked it up again lingering on the field on the other side of the runway. There were more scents of the Brotherhood, and even an unfamiliar one that he couldn't identify. He hoped that didn't mean trouble.
The setting sun glinted off something in the grass and Logan leaned over to pick it up. What he found himself holding looked to be some sort of communication device; the kind that fit into the ear with a mini microphone that reached to the mouth so that it left the hands free for whatever important job they were supposed to be doing. Holding it up to the side of his face he listened to it before attempting to speak into it. Perhaps someone was still on the other end and could give him some answers. But the device was silent and Logan growled softly in frustration. Still, he pocketed the thing before he began sniffing around again, literally.
Rogue's scent went out for quite aways, followed by one of the Brotherhood member's. If memory served it was the scent of the annoying speedy one. Of course, they were all annoying, but that was beside the point. And then suddenly, it was gone, vanished. No matter how deep of a breath he took in, Logan could not detect even the smallest amount of Rogue's scent. It was as if she had flown away.
"Which is impossible," Logan reminded himself under his breath.
He stood gazing in the direction Rogue's scent had left him facing. Racking his brains to remember what lay in that direction, Logan was pretty sure New Orleans was about a twelve-hour drive away.
"Well, it's as good a place as any to look," he sighed as he turned around and headed back to the street where he'd left his truck.
Rogue couldn't get Remy LeBeau's face out of her head. Whether her eyes were open or closed she could still see the easy grin, his unusual but strangely attractive eyes, his messy hair falling into those eyes. She also refused to admit the obvious.
*Ah am not fallin' fah'im,* she thought fiercely even as her heart fluttered again at the image even such a small reference to him conjured.
"This is not possible!" she yelled into the night sky. "Ah am not getting twittahpated over a guy that Ah met and knew for twenty minutes."
But what she herself would not admit her heart was embracing with so much eagerness that Rogue couldn't stop his image from forming in her mind. Nor could she prevent herself from hoping that perhaps she'd see him again, or from imagining what it would feel like to be held in his arms, staring up into his admiration filled eyes, his loving smile, or even keep herself from daring to dream of what it might be like to be touched with a kiss from his lips.
"Ya're stahtin' t'sound like Kitty gushin' about her latest crush," Rogue scolded herself with a growl as she flew through the now darkening sky.
Briefly she debated finding a place to bunk down for the night before the thought was pushed aside by the daydream that she'd be plenty warm in Remy's strong embrace. She was actually smiling at the idea before she remembered that she wasn't head over heels for the Cajun despite the yearning feeling in her heart and the way she swore there was a sense of something tugging inside her, like some part of her was connected to Remy LeBeau.
*Your soul, perhaps,* the thought crossed her mind before she could stop it and she immediately disregarded it and anything it might imply.
*Of course, you could never pursue a serious relationship with him. Not with the kind of mutant powers you've been cursed with,* her mind threw at her next and nothing could stop the deep hurt it caused.
"Stop it," she told herself firmly and forced herself to concentrate on other things.
Like being back at the Institute with Kurt, Logan, Hank, Xavier. She wondered if they missed her, if they'd kept a place for her. She couldn't think of anything that felt closest to being an actual home to her, complete with a family and everything. She'd even be glad to hear Kitty use four "likes" in one sentence and to be the target of one of Kurt's practical jokes.
*If only they'll take me back,* her next despairing thought reminded her.
She wondered what they had thought of her sudden disappearance. Did they suspect the truth, that Mystique and the Brotherhood had kidnapped her? Or did they think she had run away on her own, glad to be rid of the Institute and all those within. She knew she hadn't given off very friendly vibes, but if only they understood what it was like to be her. Sure, Kurt was covered in blue fur and had some other physical differences, but at least he could hide it for the most part and people weren't afraid of touching him once they got used to his appearance. In fact, some people even rather enjoyed it, like little Jaime who loved to snuggle up to Kurt's soft coat. And Cyclops had deadly lasers that shot from his eyes, but with the special glasses he wore he had them under control and could do most anything as long as he made sure they didn't come off.
None of them had any idea what it was like not being able to touch anyone; to go through life not being able to hold anybody's hand, caress somebody's cheek or even receive a kiss.
*A kiss from Remy, for instance…* there went her thoughts again, thinking things they weren't supposed to. She had a feeling more were coming on, too. *Well of course. Wouldn't want to disappoint you. Besides, don't you wonder what it would be like if Remy were an X-man?*
But Rogue had no time for wondering, even about Remy. Her mind was suddenly inundated with unbidden images and memories. A chaotic mix of her memories and Carol Danvers' memories and Cody's and the memories of everybody she'd ever come in close physical contact with since her Mutant ability had revealed itself vied for space in her brain. She didn't know how to describe it, except that they all seemed to be battling for control and what was worse was that she thought that perhaps she was losing.
She had a moment to conceive the idea that she was no longer flying, but falling. And then those insane memories were back for a long moment before everything went dark.
Scott had to admit, as he looked around himself, that the Professor had set him up with some pretty decent living conditions. He had the dorm room all to himself, which was probably for the best. It wouldn't do to have his roommate finding out about his Homo-superior status. Besides, Scott was used to having his own room. He'd dreaded having to share one, especially with all the dorm room horror stories he'd been hearing all summer from everybody who had an older sibling in college. It had been a relief to find that he'd have the space all to himself.
He was mostly moved in now; just a last few small boxes to unpack, including a mysterious one that could only be the work of Kurt and Evan. Caution told him to investigate that one last, and he wasn't about to argue with caution. So first he unpacked a box solely of food that Ororo had put together for him. "Every college student's necessities," she had told him with a smile when she'd handed it to him. It was filled with all sorts of goodies including ramen noodles and cups, different assortments of junk foods, powdered cocoa, cider and coffee mixes; the list went on and on. Scott thanked whatever higher beings there might be for Ororo's insight.
The only other box that Scott had to unpack was the one that held the things he'd brought to personalize his room and make it seem more like home. He hung up the small dry erase board, complete with marker, on the outside of his door for people to leave notes on. Up and down the hall the majority of the other students, shared rooms or not, had done the same thing. Some even had messages already. After that came his alarm clock, the only one he'd ever found that could wake him up in the mornings, various photos that he thumb tacked to the bulletin board that was standard in every room, a few extra school supplies, a desk lamp, his favorite books, and last but certainly not least, a framed picture of Jean.
He paused to admire the photo. It had been a spontaneous snapshot; she wasn't posing or anything. In fact, she wasn't even looking directly at the camera. Someone, Evan to be exact, had seen Jean daydreaming and decided it was perfect for an impromptu picture. So he'd snapped the camera and when he'd gotten the film developed, this is what the final result had turned out to be. Scott had been ecstatic when Evan had presented it to him. Well, ecstatic and a little embarrassed. It seemed everyone at the Institute knew about the enormous crush he had for the red headed Mutant; everybody, that is, except for Jean herself.
*But she's got Duncan, so it's better that way,* he reminded himself as he set the picture on his bedside table.
With one last sigh he reached for the last box: Evan and Kurt's surprise. He opened it with caution, and was completely relieved when nothing came jumping out at him. Pulling away the tissue paper that was crushed on top he discovered an envelope bearing his name and a good luck card inside that the two had gotten everyone to sign. As soon as he finished reading, that went up on the side table with Jean and then it was back to the box. The next few items that he pulled out were gag gifts. The boys had thrown in a can of silly string, a mini Nerf football, some googlie eye glasses and last and, in this case, definitely least, a whoopee cushion. He chuckled at the array of items now assembled on his desk. For a moment he considered stuffing them in a random drawer, but then, acting on impulse, he decided to leave them out, except for the silly string, which might make a nice surprise for some unexpected dormer.
"A conversation starter," he reasoned to himself as he checked the box one last time.
Removing more crumpled tissue paper revealed another framed picture, though this one was much larger than Jean's. It must have been taken only a few days before he'd left and developed in a hurry. "So you won't miss us too much," a message scribbled on a post-it-note was stuck to the frame that encircled a group picture of all the students and teachers of the school, including Professor Xavier and even Hank McCoy just visible in the very back if you looked hard enough.
It was a pleasant surprise and Scott made a mental note to thank the boys when he next got the opportunity to speak with them. He had to wonder how the two had gathered everyone together long enough to get the picture. Only two people were missing, not including himself, but individual pictures had been stuck in the corner of the frame to make sure they were still included. Scott deduced that Kurt and Evan must have used a timed camera because both boys lounged on the ground right in front with the cheesiest grins on their faces.
One of the added photos was of Logan, the other of Rogue, both impromptu snapshots like the one of Jean, and both cut out from larger pictures to fit inside the frame without overlapping each other and the main photo. Logan's picture was slightly fuzzy, at a bad angle and as usual the gruff man was scowling. It looked like whoever was holding the camera was about to get a taste of Logan's temper. Right now, who knew where Logan was, except out there somewhere searching for Rogue with no contact and no news since he had left shortly after Rogue's disappearance.
The other picture, the one of Rogue, was very flattering to the girl who usually hid herself behind gothic clothing, heavy eye make-up, a constant frown and a sullen disposition. She had been caught at a time when, though she wasn't smiling, she wasn't frowning either. By the light that illuminated her face, Scott could tell that she was sitting by a window, staring out of it. The rays of sun caught the green eye that was visible in the picture, making it glow like a many faceted emerald. Her expression was the closest to peaceful that Scott had ever seen on Rogue's face. It had been an excellent choice.
Scott set the frame up beside the card and the photo of Jean before holding his head in his hands and trying his hardest not to think about that day…that day she'd disappeared. It had haunted him his whole summer, and nobody but Jean and the Professor knew he had continued to feel guilt for her disappearance for so long. Unbidden, unwanted, the memories he had tried to hold at bay since he'd left the Institute came, reminding him of that day she had disappeared and all the mystery with it.
It had been only a week after the end of the school year. Every student at the institute had been enjoying their summer vacation intermingled with training in the Danger Room. The Brotherhood had been blissfully quiet, but of course that couldn't last.
The alarm came: trouble at a junkyard on the outskirts of Bayville. Of course it was the Brotherhood and this time they even had Mystique with them. The team was dispatched, Cyclops leading, but with Storm and Wolverine along as chaperones to take over if things got rough.
They first encountered the Brotherhood in a clearing in the junkyard and both teams stood silently facing each other. Cyclops was waiting for the Brotherhood to move first. Avalanche smiled and then suddenly dropped to his knees and sent shockwaves through the ground to distract the X-Men while they scattered.
"Split up and search!" Cyclops ordered. "Everyone into groups of two and then search the place."
He didn't remember who had buddied-up with who, except that he'd ended up with Rogue.
"Keep a sharp look out," he told her.
"Ah know!" she had growled back.
Cautiously, every sense alert, they had wandered through the junkyard trying to stay as quiet as possible so as not to alert their opponents, jumping at the smallest noise.
"This is getting us nowhere," Cyclops whispered.
"They gotta be around here somewhere…unless this is just a trap," Rogue suggested.
They looked at each other, their eyes wide with fear. What if that was what this really was. Lure the X-Men into the junkyard, then vacate and trap them or destroy them somehow.
"Duck!" Cyclops suddenly yelled as his hand went to his visor.
Rogue followed orders and Cyclops let fly an optic blast that disintegrated one of Toad's saliva globs mid-air. Immediately Cyclops changed his aim to where Toad was crouched on top of a mound of scrap metal and let another optic blast loose on the mutant. Toad jumped at the last minute, the blast sending debris flying. Following Toad with his visor, Cyclops kept shooting optic blasts at the Brotherhood mutant, trying to take him down.
Cyclops was pretty much tied up in trying to shut Toad down, but he did notice as Rogue scuffled out of the way, keeping herself in a low, protective crouch. He remembered to always keep an eye on her location so that he didn't accidentally put her between his optic blasts and the true target.
ShadowKat's voice came from the direction in which Rogue was still crouched. Something about Nightcrawler being in trouble and needing their help. Rogue followed quickly, leaving Cyclops alone to deal with the thing from the black lagoon. Unfortunately, Toad kept hopping away just before the blasts reached him. He never stayed long enough in once place for Cyclops to get a fix and take a shot at him. The enemy mutant also liked to spit a glob of his sticky secretion at Cyclops every so often just to keep him on his toes. Cyclops had to admit it was an effective strategy.
"Hey, yo, it's been fun, but I gotta jet," Toad suddenly said before shooting one last glob at Cyclops and then exiting the immediate area.
Cyclops dealt with the glob quickly, then headed off in a run after Toad. He searched everywhere for the disgusting little pest, but couldn't find him. Finally, standing once again in the clearing where he and the rest of the X-men had first encountered the Brotherhood, he paused to catch his breath and take a look around. In the distance he could hear the sounds of scuttles as Brotherhood and X-men met and clashed. Focusing on the sounds, he tried to pinpoint one so that he could join and help them.
But they came to him before he could discern any of their positions. Soon, the whole of the X-men team was standing in the clearing with members of the Brotherhood surrounding them, standing atop piles of junk and scrap metal; the Blob had somehow mounted himself atop an old semi-truck. Each Brotherhood member sneered down at their opponents, looking as if they had already won.
"Thanks for the fun, X-dummies," Lance mocked. "But we gotta go. It was nice knowing ya."
And with that they were all gone, scrambling down the back of their junk piles and out of the junkyard.
"Follow them," Cyclops ordered immediately.
But Wolverine had other ideas. "No, I smell something burning. Everyone out!"
There was no hesitation as they all began to run. Nightcrawler grabbed onto the two mutants nearest himself, Spyke and ShadowKat, and bamfed out of there. Jean used her telekinetic abilities to lift herself and Cyclops up into the air away from the junkyard and Storm soon followed, using strong but controlled winds to carry herself and everyone else up and away.
They all met up atop the hill Nightcrawler had bamfed himself and his fellow mutants to. He was now out cold from the excessive use of his powers and it looked like Jean might soon follow. Shortly after they all had regrouped, there was an explosion in the junkyard, sending debris flying everywhere. Thanks to Wolverine's nose, they'd all been spared from the Brotherhood's fatal plan. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as their adrenaline levels returned to normal. That is until ShadowKat spoke up.
"Where's Rogue?"
Those had been fatal words. Scott remembered looking back at the fiery site that had been the junkyard filled with fear and dread. He hadn't known what to do. Should they go back and look for her? Or was it too late, the search over before it even began.
"We go back to the Institute," Storm's voice had ordered.
And they'd all obeyed, no questions asked. The return to the school had been absolutely silent. When Kurt had finally woken up and been told what had happened he'd been absolutely frantic, wanting to go back and find her, not able to believe that Rogue was really dead. Scott knew that, to this day, Kurt still believed Rogue was alive somehow, somewhere, just as he himself still felt the guilt at leaving her behind. Kurt had found his hope, though, when Xavier had said Cerebro's findings were insufficient to say whether or not Rogue was really dead or not and Logan had left soon after, leaving only a short note that said he had to search for her or he'd never forgive himself. Even at the tail end of summer they were still waiting on word from him.
"Hey, you got a-"
"Oh man, he does!"
The two voices startled Scott and he turned to see a couple of young men standing in his doorway, other boys from his floor. Roommates, if his memory served. Scott looked around at his room, then back at the pair standing in his door.
"We're looking for a football to play catch with," one of them explained suddenly.
"I'm Nathan and this is Brad," the other one introduced, realizing they hadn't done so yet.
Scott debated turning them away, but then realized that perhaps these two would serve as a needed distraction. Besides, they looked like nice enough guys and perhaps Scott could become friends with them. Rising from his bed and grabbing the Nerf football, Scott smiled at the two and tossed the ball to them.
"The names Scott and you can use this one if you let me play too," Scott finally answered them.
The boys smiled invitingly. "Alright, let's go!" And together all three of them headed out into the warm summer day.
Remy sat on the bus, the laptop Charlene had given him sitting open, but unnoticed on his lap in front of him. He'd been studying the grounds of the Mutant Mansion before his mind had wandered…back to her.
"Dammit," Remy cursed under his breath as finally he admitted to defeat and closed the laptop, setting it on the seat next to his.
He kept his black-rimmed red eyes fixed outside the window, though he saw none of the scenery flashing by. He was too busy picturing her again. Her gorgeous body, her hypnotic green eyes, enticing lips, soft accent. As much as he knew that such feelings should be forbidden to him, he also knew that he was completely and totally lost on Rogue. Belladonna, the woman he was betrothed to marry when he returned from this task set to him by the Guild Father, was now no more than just another woman he'd met and flirted with in his life.
But he wasn't supposed to have thoughts like that. Belladonna would be his wife. And before that he had to focus on his mission. That was the reason he was heading to New York, not to go chasing after some mystery girl. Remy remembered the short delight he'd felt when he'd realized that the place he was headed to and the place Rogue had said she was from were one and the same. But New York was a big state and he couldn't waste time hoping that she, too, belonged to the Mutant group he was supposed to infiltrate.
He was never going to get her out his mind. She made it impossible for him to concentrate on anything else. Never had anyone had such an effect on him. Remy had sworn to himself that he would never fall in love, he'd never even admitted that he'd actually loved Bella. But Rogue had forced him to break his promise to himself, and he loved her all the more for it.
"Ferget'er," Remy ordered himself.
Impossible, he was immediately reminded. It would be just as easy to forget to breath, or for his heart to forget to beat. She had him under a spell that could never be broken. And Remy knew that he could never let anything more come of it. His life wouldn't allow it. He had to complete this mission, return to New Orleans and then marry Bella in order to ensure peace between the Ravens and the Foxes. Rogue, unfortunately, had no part in any of that and Remy knew he was just going to have to deal with it.
"Now," he told himself resolutely, "Git back t't'inkin' o' a way to get ya'self int'de mansion."