A huge thanks to noro, RogueNya and darkfantasy16 for the reviews :) I'm always surprised that I receive any at all!
noro - You're so sweet, here's the next chapter.
RogueNya - Yeah I would have left to but some do care, I think she's just too far gone to notice or even care herself. Nope no hanky panky with Logan in this story LOL, you're right she is too young. But Gambit...maybe if she gets the chance, although she might possibly be a little to screwed up at the moment for any serious relationship. I like Rogue and Gambit together though :) Shame we didn't get to see that in the films!
And last but not least darkfantasy16 - Long review! I just love drama and I felt the need to turn Rogue's life into a total soap opera. The 'Gambler' part, most people when they're drunk struggle to remember the simplest of names, I know I do ;) The 1st chapter needed sorting out, I've been putting it off for ages! Actually I don't think I've ever read a fic where Rogue's been happy about taking the cure either, she usually regrets it. I don't think she should regret the fact that she took it in this story, just maybe some of her actions. But what made Rogue's attitude change so drastically over the four months? Well you'll just have to wait and see :P I've come up with a few ideas and I'm sure the Bobby/Kitty thing didn't help matters.
Oh, and I suppose I should mention that Gambit and Logan have no prior history in this fic. If you've seen Origins you'll know what I'm on about and if you haven't, then why the hell not?
Warning - Following chapter includes self harming.
Ain't It Fun
Ain't it fun when your friends despise what you become
- Guns N Roses
Grumble, grumble, stomp, stomp, stomp, grumble, grumble, CRASH...
The antique mirror that Jubilee scoured the depths of the Internet for shatters and litters our bedroom floor with umpteen pieces of glass. I guess punching a mirror, a one of a kind irreplaceable mirror isn't such a good idea, especially if you despise the thought of cleaning up after yourself.
I glance down at my fist to inspect the damage but all I see are a small number of cuts across the knuckles and that for some unknown reason annoys the hell out of me. I'm absolutely seething, I can feel my stomach churning with sheer resentment. More then anything I'd like to hunt down Kitty for round two but I heard the Blackbird takeoff about an hour ago. The bitch has certainly left her mark, fucking scratches on my cheek but we all know don't we ladies, that concealer is a girls best friend, that and a bottle of liquor.
The last of the evening light pours into my room and the bouncing rays of winter sunshine cause the shards of glass to shimmer, glisten and glow. The sight is somewhat striking and I find myself unable to tear my eyes away from a singular fragment of glass, is that the answer to my deep rooted problems?
Stepping towards the object of my fascination I crouch downward and without a second thought I pick the piece of glass up, press it against the exposed skin of my arm and drag.
Twenty minutes later I'm left with a bloody arm and a whole lot less anger and emotional pain, no I'm feeling relief. I'm relived that I'm finally feeling something other than the emptiness or my usual depression. Its been over two months since I last resorted to self inflicted pain as a means to cope. I thought the drink and drugs would be enough to tame my destructive tendencies but as usual those thoughts were misguided.
Dressed in a pair of worn black denim jeans and a purple vest top I walk to the wardrobe and release a sharp hiss as I slip on a green hooded sweatshirt to hide the visible gashes.
Gazing at the destruction around me I smirk in anticipation of all the mischief I can get into while the others are away on a mission; when the X-Men are away the Rogue will play.
"Damn, fuck, shit!" I cry in frustration as I try to shimmy the lock open on the drinks cabinet in Storm's office.
Who in their right mind locks a drinks cabinet, its not exactly hospitable is it? What the hell kind of wood is this made of anyway. I growl as I attack the glorified cupboard with a screwdriver I stole from the garage. I've already finished off the last of my Vodka and I can't find hide nor hair of Logan's stash of booze. So I had to make do with popping one brightly coloured pill and smoking half a poorly rolled joint. The rest of the shit has been hastily shoved in my jeans pocket for later use, now if only I can get this fucking door open.
"Need help, Chere?" The unexpected voice sends me nearly five foot in the air in shock and causes me to scrape the skin off of the side of my thumb with the fucking screwdriver.
"Jesus," I groan sucking my thumb free of the blood. Turning to face an amused Gambit, I scowl. "What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be on a mission,"
He walks further into the room and leans lazily against the desk, hands at his side.
"Wolverine don' trust Gambit" He replies his face losing all signs of his previous light heartedness as he reaches in his pocket blindly and produces a deck of cards, that he shuffles with mild agitation.
My face softens as I take in the pathetic sight before me, I've never seen him look so downcast. "Don't worry about it, he's like that with everyone, that's just how Logan is."
Gambit smiles slightly and nods his head towards the cabinet. "Need help wit' dat?"
"No, Swamp rat, its my loot and I don't share." I sigh eyeing the soon to be heap of fire wood. I've certainly worked up a sweat for the damn drink and if I ever do pry the lock open, I'm going to allow myself to drown in the alcohol tonight.
"Your mama never teach y'to share, River rat?" Gambit asks standing up and striding towards me.
Before I even have time to argue over the fact that he just called me a rat of all things, he's digging in his pockets and pulls out a lock pick.
"Never leave home without one."
And in five seconds flat I hear a faint click and the cabinet door swings open displaying a meagre three large bottles of Whiskey. Oh, and I was hoping for more as Gambit hands me a bottle of Southern Comfort. Well you can take the girl out of the south but never the south out of the girl.
Drunkenly giggling at Remy's latest anecdote I knock over my tenth shot of whiskey as I struggle to stand upright. I'm starting to feel really hungry but that might just be the pot. The pill has taken affect to as I watch the shadows creep up the kitchen wall with some kind of mild obsession for all things, well shadow like.
"Whoa, Chere, take it easy." Gambit instructs as he leaps up and guides me gently back to my seat. He sits opposite me at the kitchen table as I dip my hand in the spoilt Whiskey and lick it off the tip of my fingers.
His eyes narrow at my demonstration and he licks his lips. Admittedly I've always seen Gambit as a pain in the ass but at this precise moment I'm liking what I see. A sudden thought flashes through my mind and my brain jumps for joy telling me to go for it, to hell with the consequences when sober.
I stand and mosey on over to him with my hips once again swinging from side to side and his jaw literally drops as I straddle his lap and trace my hands down his chest feeling every muscle ripple with each lingering touch. He opens his mouth to speak but I place a finger on his lips and hush him. As I continue my exploration of his well sculpted body, he gasps as I stroke over his more intimate areas and shifts under my weight.
"Chere, not dat Gambit ain't enjoyin' dis but maybe when y'sober..."
Oh fuck that, I'm sober...ish... Well, enough to know what I want anyway and this is something I definitely want.
I plant my lips harshly against his and let my tongue explore his mouth. Feel his body start to react against mine until, I smirk against his lips but the spell is broken by a rude and seriously unwanted interruption in the shape of a rather distressed and shocked Jubilee.
"Roguey, what the freakin' hell happened to our..." She stops mid sentence and stares at us in amazement. "How, how could you? You knew that I, well I... You knew!" She cries melodramatically pointing her finger at me, well at me or Gambit. Shit, you try drinking all that then keeping track of the yellow ones emotions. Its enough to give you a rampaging headache and drive you to more drink.
Gambit opens his lips to respond but I hush him again and turn my head to Jubes.
"Huh?" I question swaying on Remy's lap.
"I liked him, Rogue..." She whispers tears pouring down her cheeks.
"Don't worry, Jubes, we can share him" I snap. "You wouldn't mind would you Remy?" I coo stroking his face.
"What happened to you, Rogue?"
"What's happened to me? What the fuck happened to you, where's your sense of adventure gone? I know how, about a threesome?" Grinding into Gambit's lap he whimpers in delight and I snort. Yep, I'd say he's up for it alright.
Jubilee stands rooted to the spot shell shocked for a moment or two refusing to meet my inquiring gaze and in a blubbering mess she races out of the kitchen. She didn't even answer my question, how inconsiderate of her and to think that I called her my best friend, well fuck her.
"Don' y'think y'should go after her, Chere?"
Hmm, oh yeah, Gambit. How could I forget there's a man between my thighs?
"No, no, no, no." I moan into his ear huskily. "Later, now where was I?" I ask with a lick of his earlobe and as Remy's hand travels under my top the kitchen door swings open again.
Damn it, can't a girl get any pleasure in peace?
"What on earth was the matter with Jubilee? I've never seen her so..." Storm also stops in her tracks in what I can only assume as utter astonishment.
I don't see the problem, we're only making out, would anyone like to fill me in on the God damn problem? I'm about to make a smart ass comment to Storm when I detect a bristling and prickly looking Logan at her side, glaring at us both with his nostrils flaring.
Remy gulps and his hand shoots out from under my top. I can almost hear the cogs turning in Logan's head as he puts two and two together as he continues to inhale the scents and prolonged tang of lust. Not wanting to have the Swamp rat's death on my conscience I attempt to wriggle out of his lap but that causes Remy to groan out loud in pleasure and I tumble face first onto the kitchen floor in a drunken and thoroughly stoned heap at their feet.
Attempting to roll over or even move in anyway, I find that I can't. My body refuses to respond so I sigh dramatically and wish I could melt into the floor, well after another few shots of Southern Comfort, you never know.
I overhear a Snikt and a roar from Wolverine accompanied by a scream from Ororo and a lot of fast talking from Gambit's direction. My face only cools on the cold tiled floor.
"Logan, no!" Storm shrieks as I hear a rumble of thunder.
"It ain't what it looks like, Gambit an' de Chere were just sayin' hello..."
"It looked to me Gumbo like you were takin' advantage." Logan growls as his heavy boots pound against the floor past my left ear.
"Non, Gambit don' need t'liquor his women." Remy announces smugly, "Dey fall at his feet."
"Remy leave now, I'll handle this."
I nod my head in a dream like state agreeing with Storm and I hear Remy leave the room without a fight or a goodbye.
"Ro'!"
"Do you really think Remy's completely at fault here, Logan?"
And I nod my head yet again. Yes, I do if it saves me from a dressing down. I giggle at my choice of words. If they had arrived ten minutes later I would have been dressed down.
"I suggest we deal with Rogue or didn't you notice her less than sober state on the floor?"
"I'll sort her out, Ro', you go hit the sack." Logan grunts, his boots coming to a stop by my ears again.
No Storm, don't leave me, I plead in my head but she agrees and leaves me alone with my sniffing executioner.
"I can smell dried blood, what the hell have you been doin' now, kid?"
I groan as he crouches beside me and flips me over onto my back, and God, does he looks pissed at me. He brushes the hair from my face and casts a dark glimpse at my pinned pupils. "What else did you take? I can smell the pot and booze a mile off." I smile thoughtfully as I try to remember but the answer eludes me. He shakes his head and starts checking my body for any apparent injury as I try to crawl away from his reach.
"Oh, no you don't." Logan mutters pulling me back with a hand around my ankle. "Fuckin' hell!" He bellows as he uncovers the weeping mass of cuts on my arm. "This stops now, Kid, you're done."
Rubbing a hand over his tired face he forcefully snaps my chin up so our eyes meet. "I should have done this weeks ago. You might be as pissed as hell at me in the mornin' but this is for your own good." Logan stands upright and eyes my wasted and gaunt frame. "Time for a road trip." And that's the last thing I hear as my eyes slowly close and I fall into a dreamless sleep.