Disclaimer: I do not own.

A/N: There's a brief sexual encounter, but I don't think it'll offend anyone. I had a lot of fun writing Foxx, and I hope you have fun reading this new take on her. I think we can all agree that Marvel's version sucked. Foxx was as violent as Mystique, but not as clever or ruthless or dedicated. And the way she revealed herself? Ridiculous! Good plan, but failed execution. So here's my take. It's not all about her, though. Belle's beginning to remember why she cut Gambit out of Honor's life, and Rogue's trying to define what sort of life her children will have without him. Enjoy!

Broken Chains

Chapter Four: The Devil in Disguise

You fooled me with your kisses.
You cheated and you schemed.
Heaven knows how you lied to me,
You're not the way to seemed.

-Devil in Disguise, Elvis Presley

Friday evening, Momma brought Rogue, Foxx and me to the house. I thought Rogue would try to claw the girl's eyes out, but she held together very well.

Bishop was waiting for us in a black van down the street. I crawled into the van with Momma and Rogue while Foxx walked to the house. Inside the van, Bishop had (what he called) a primitive surveillance set-up. We could hear and see every room. There were other areas, like the air ducts, that she could possibly access, but he didn't bother to place a camera around every corner. Instead, he could monitor those areas with a heat and motion detector.

"Of course, we'll move all this mess into the house once the tests are concluded," he said, giving Momma a head-set. "The panic room would be ideal, but all this electricity would naturally attract attention to that part of the building."

"Dere's a panic room?" I asked.

"Oui," said Momma, "Two entrances dat fork together. Two security clearances dat only you and de twins will pass. First one verifies thumb print. Second checks de blood. I didn't want de little ones to forget a pass code or not be able t' reach de eye scan."

"How come only we t'ree have access?"

"You t'ink Rogue and I need t' hide?" She smiled playfully at me.

Even with all the recent drama, Momma had never considered not moving into the new house. She saw no conflict between Rogue and Papa having to share a home while divorcing. If she could manage it, so could they. If things became too unbearable, Papa would be the one to leave.

Momma already had lawyers fighting to get her name on the mortgage. I knew Papa would give her anything she asked for, but she was protecting herself. I couldn't blame her. She wanted rights to a third of the property. Papa and Rogue would be co-owners for the remaining two-thirds. That way, Momma and Rogue could buy him out, and my mother could not be forced out with nothing.

She had already referred Rogue to her law firm, but Rogue just didn't have the stomach for war. I knew my poor stepmother was depressed. That light in her eyes had been extinguished. She didn't want to argue or apologize or make amends or make him suffer. In short, she didn't want to live. She was a ghost with only memories of emotions.

I turned my attention from my family to the television screens crowding the van walls. Foxx clumsily set off a silent alarm in the front lawn. I heard a light chirping somewhere in the house.

"That's a priority-level four threat," Bishop said. "Put any television in the house on channel 3 and you'll be able to view the source."

Foxx studied the building for a moment before jumping on the front porch. Every latch on every door and window locked shut. The little metal bars and clips sliding into place sounded like a hundred toy soldiers cocking their weapons.

"Priority level three," informed our installer, "At this point, only a voice-activated pass code will disarm the system. Assuming the threat is real, the cabinets have been unlocked. The system takes note of all bodies inside the facility before intrusion, and marks them as friendly."

"What cabinets?" I asked my mother.

"Weapons, chere," she whispered back. "Nothin' you need concern yourself wit'."

I recalled the nearly invisible squares I'd seen in the walls of Papa's room. Were they everywhere?

Foxx pulled on a pair of black gloves and cautiously tried to open the front door. Finding it locked, she tried a window. It, too, was locked, so she shattered it and crawled inside.

"Priority level two," said Bishop. "This will cut the lights and activate the panic room. That's your signal-" he told me directly, "-to grab the twins and retreat to your room or theirs. In your closets under the carpet, you'll find the only entrances to the room. Naturally, only you or they will be able to gain access. Once you're in, your only available exit is for me or Storm to disarm the system."

"I can't get out?"

"Not without me or your godmother, so don't use it lightly."

"It's for your own protection," Momma assured me.

The house was dark, but Foxx had enough light to see by. She managed to obtain her objectives with some heavy damage to our lovely home. Momma had hidden various objects around the house that Foxx was to retrieve. While the intruder broke our windows and cabinets, tore open walls and broke doors, Momma and Bishop leaned close together and whispered excitedly.

"-she's done dis before!"

"That's not Gambit's defensive style; she's been dodging bullets for a while."

Indeed, once the system established a priority level one, hidden lasers in the walls attempted to stun her. The closer she got to the bedrooms, the more intense the shots became. But she had managed to evade them all. So far.

I couldn't stand to watch my home get destroyed, so I stood outside the van until the test finished.

The stars were crystal-clear out here. I greeted my old favorites, and met a few new ones. I counted two shooting stars. The sky was beautiful. I always hoped to fall into it.

I could feel my father: a few thousand miles away. He was thinking about me and the twins. And Rogue. We were never far from his thoughts.

I reached in my jacket pocket and retrieved a letter. It had been left under my pillow by my father, but I didn't have the nerve to read it before. He'd left it after my latest hospital visit: after I pretended to be asleep so he couldn't speak to me.

Dear Honor,

I'm sorry I didn't get to speak with you before I left. I know you're probably angry with me just like everyone else, but I wanted a chance to tell you good-bye. This mission that I'm going on has already cost the lives of a dozen scientists. But I volunteered because I think a little distance will do us all some good. You'll give me something to come back to.

Take care and I love you.

I re-read it. Then I folded the letter into eighths and put it back in my pocket. This would be a secret between Papa and me.

Not long after, my mother and I rescued Foxx from the house. She had not gotten into the master bedroom, after all, thanks to a failsafe trap door. Once she fell into the tiny box, she could not get out without outside assistance. Naturally, those with the ability to rescue her where limited.

I tended to Foxx's mild injuries while Bishop and Momma discussed improvements.

"I could re-enforce the windows-"

"No, no, chere, we want de kids t' be able t' get out in case of a fire."

"I wish you'd re-consider putting an automatic lock on the inside doors."

"Same problem. And what if dey're separated? Dey'd all stay behind t' try and help each other."

I dabbed a wet cloth to Foxx's scrapped knee and softly blew the sting away. In the background, I could hear Momma and Bishop reviewing their blue prints. They were already planning another test with Papa as the intruder.

"You're a good nurse," Foxx told me kindly. "But this isn't necessary. I can take care of myself."

"Just let me put a bandage on dis," I said. "You don't want it t' get infected."

Her strange orange eyes drifted to Rogue, who was sitting alone in the car and looking slightly catatonic. "Is she going to be alright? Maybe she shouldn't be alone."

"She's just tired," I lied.

"I heard she and Gambit got into a fight. Are they going to be okay?"

I shrugged. "All done here."

"Honor, wait! You can tell me. I won't tell anyone, I promise. Are they getting divorced? Is that why he left?"

.::.

Saturday night, my friends and I went to a theme park nearby. For those of us who don't dance and are too young to drink, choices for entertainment are limited. The local park stayed busy: the fullest days being Saturday and Sunday. Jerry's Fun Park had video arcades, bumper carts and a putt-putt course. That night, I went to play miniature golf, but the real thrill was getting away from my family. Ethan was kind enough to buy me an ice-cream, so Nate paid for my golf ball and club rental. I didn't quite understand this competition between them, but it was working to my benefit. In retrospect, our group was rather delinquent. We climbed on the props, screamed, and tried to throw each other in the shallow fake lakes. I remember grabbing random hands and hugging Tess almost constantly. There was a particularly intense moment in the cave with Ethan. I leaned against the wall and gave him a smoldering stare. He sauntered to me carelessly. One hand blocked my exit to the right; the other, tucked my hair behind my ear.

"I write my friends back home about you," he said hotly. "They ask me what you look like, but I don't know what color to call your hair."

"I call it blonde," my voice shook.

"But it's not really, is it? Got this red tint to it. And your eyes… What color are they?"

"Blood and black."

His bright purple eyes darted between my eyes. "Gorgeous."

Uri let out a yelp. "Honor and Ethan sittin' in a tree! When he's twenty, sixteen she'll be!"

We laughed and I took my turn at the tee, my checks burning. I wasn't very good at this game, but didn't really care. We lost score.

Outside the park, a group of local kids were signing on the corner. Two of them were visibly mutants, and as alien in appearance as anyone on my father's squad. I could tell by their voices that they were guys. The other one, who seemed to be their ring leader, was a skinny boy my age. He had mahogany skin, short dreadlocks, and blue freckles.

The three of them stood facing each other. They were very entertaining.

My group joined the crowd already forming around them.

What do dey call us?

FREAKS!

What do dey call us?

FREAKS!

When dey see us in de streets,

Make a'way for de freaks!

The crowd applauded and tossed coins. Live music in the streets? This was almost as exciting as the French Quarter! And here, in little Salem Center!

"Hey!" a man shouted. "We've told you kids not t' come back! I'm calling the cops!"

The crowd groaned in disappointment while the boys gathered their meager earnings.

Nate approached them. "Look, guys, if you'd like another way to get your meals, Xavier's Academy can help you."

"No, t'anks, buddy," the little leader flashed his yellow teeth. "Never had de stomach for nuns!"

They fled into the night.

"Check out the boy scout," Ethan teased, "Always looking for new recruits."

"No," he said shortly, "Just trying to keep a couple of kids alive. They sleep on the subway and will probably get mugged, but I guess you wouldn't know about that."

I didn't let this little footnote get me down. I was having more fun than I'd ever had, and intended to enjoy the rest of my night. We took the bus to the park and had to take one back. But we missed that ride.

"There's a train leaving in fifteen minutes," Tess said as we watched the bus fade away. "We'll need to hurry."

We had to sprint all the way to the subway station. The five of us slipped through the closing doors like bats out an oven door. We stood for a moment, desperately trying to catch our breaths and laughing hysterically.

"I thought Uri was a goner," said Nate, "A leg cramp's no joke, man."

"Nah," Uri was doubled over and panting heavily. "We Jews are no strangers to running under pressure."

We all collapsed into seats, breathlessly laughing. Tess and I fell on each other, our sides and faces burning. Holding her felt so natural. Normally, her nearness made me light-headed, but that night I couldn't have gone any higher.

"'Ey mon! You didn't tell me de Academy was a frat party!"

A few rows away sat the same boy we'd met earlier. His friends were gone, and he looked slightly embarrassed.

"Hey! Didn't get your name," Nate wiped his face and pulled himself together.

"Renegade. And you?"

"I'm Nate. That's Uri, Ethan, Honor and Tess. Where are your friends?"

"Don't got no friends," he said with a proud smile.

"Look, man, why don't you come back to the school with us? You can check it out. If you don't like it, you can leave. Unless you've got somewhere else to go?"

"I go with de pretty gurls," he sat himself in between Tess and me. Upon closer inspection, I noticed how bony he really was. He was skinnier than me. And he smelled, though I tried not to make a fuss about it.

The ride back to school wasn't long, but it was very late when we arrived. Tessa's watch read after midnight. Everyone was in bed.

We, however, were in no mood to sleep.

"Let's go for a swim!" I said, and headed for the lake.

Uri followed me immediately, but the others were more reluctant.

"That waters going to be freezing-" said Ethan.

"We could get expelled!" Nate said.

"God only knows what's in that water-" said Tess.

I tucked my hands under my arm pits and clucked like a chicken. That got them moving. Strange the motivation we seemed to need as children.

At first, the water was freezing. It was exhilarating! Uri disappeared several times, only to grab someone and pull them towards the deep end. The lake was man-made, but half of it declined steadily to a depth of five feet. At the midpoint, the bottom dropped suddenly to twenty-five feet. The students avoided the deep end. We played a game called "chicken fight". I sat on Ethan's shoulders; Tess, on Nate's. The boys charged at each other, while Tess and I tried to tip the other over. We all fell many times, screaming and splashing the entire time. In the background, I could hear Uri and Renegade creating dramatic music for our epic battle. Renegade was actually very good at improvising lyrics.

The group of us fit together perfectly. We operated like we'd always been friends.

In retrospect, I assume the night watch guard decided not to interrupt us. The X-Men regularly rotated this unenviable chore, and there's not much to watch. I don't know who saw us that night or their motivation for letting us misbehave, but we ran ourselves rugged. After three, Tess suggested we turn before dawn. I showered and collapsed in the bed. For once, I had no trouble sleeping.

I dreamed I was sailing on the ocean. Rogue sat in a rocking chair on my sail boat. Her arms held her twin children. She smiled at me with all the love Heaven could hold: she was a vision of the Mother. The sky was a bright blue and filled with clean, fluffy clouds. Suddenly, I leapt into the water and swam with the strength and precision of a seal. When I came up again, Foxx was standing on a tiny island. She kneeled and smiled at me.

"Figured it out yet?"

.::.

When I woke up Sunday morning, I was filled with a knowing I didn't understand. My powers had taken over again. I had to fight just to go through the expected motions: dress, brush, eat. Then, I was moving with purpose and drive. Instinctively, I walked past my friends and the places we liked to be. I flew to the greenhouse, but why? Tante Ro frequented here, but she was at the North Pole, too. I found Foxx in the greenhouse watering the petunias.

"Honor? What on earth-? Gosh, I've never seen you here before."

"Can you help me wit' my powers?"

She set the watering can down. "Seriously?"

"Oui."

"Huh… Sure, honey."

I insisted on conducting our project in Foxx's room. Her assigned room was a little messy, for which she apologized. She quickly tossed some laundry in the basket and stacked her library books on top of each other. There must've been eight books piled on her bed. I read a few of the titles: 'The Devil in the Shape of a Woman', 'Malleus Maleficarum', 'Battle for the Mind', and 'Ethnobotany: The Evolution of a Discipline'. Heavy books on brainwashing, torture and civil rights cluttered together. She had colorful tags sticking off the pages to mark certain passages, and all the material was open at once. I knew this was no class project… What was she looking for?

"You're readin' all dat? What for?"

She shrugged. "Guess I'm a bit of a nerd."

"I like t' read, too, but recreationally."

I picked up an old newspaper article on the Brotherhood of Mutants. The terrorist group had long disbanded, but in this report they had recently left Carol Danvers in a coma, and her lover was beaten to death. Something in the article tickled me, and I giggled.

"What's so funny about it?" Foxx asked.

"Some days, de devil wins."

"Never mind all that," she smiled. "Have a seat and we'll get started."

I complied, and she took a deep breath.

"Listen," she said. "Just listen, understand? Being a precog is a risky thing. There are governments and other powerful entities that would like to harness your power for themselves. It's a dangerous thing for people to know what you are and how powerful you are. That's why Xavier Academy doesn't have any precog classes. No one wants to admit to being good enough to instruct others. You have to promise to keep our meetings secret, okay?"

I merely nodded.

"Good. Now that that's out of the way, the general rule of thumb is to know thyself. You know when something's amiss. You have to pay attention to your body language and the things around you. When you learn how to connect the dots, you can start to actually make predictions instead of living in an endless déjà vu."

For the remainder of the day, she gave me a precog 101 crash-course. I learned how to distinguish visions from dreams, how to focus on one mystery, and most importantly: how to block out unimportant information. She told me which tools could enhance my clarity, how to process and hide my knowledge; which mutants were immune to my powers, and who I was vulnerable against. My greatest enemy was myself.

"My friend use to tell me that the whole world was inside her," Foxx said. "That the knowledge was like a river, and all she had to do was reach in and pluck out what she needed. But sometimes, she couldn't reach. When she couldn't reach, she was holding herself back. She didn't know because she didn't want to know."

I started to shake.

Checking the time, I realized I hadn't eaten since breakfast. And I hadn't taken my meds yet.

"I'm sorry, but I've got t' go," I said in a hurry. I didn't want her to think I was blowing her off, but I wasn't about to tell her that my mental stability required a steady feed of chemicals.

"I know it's been a lot to accept."

"Oui. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow-?"

"Sure, honey."

I ran all the way to the sick ward, where Dr. McCoy administered my daily dosage in a shot.

…

My secret sessions with Foxx continued, and I felt the world opening to me a little more every day. She created an exercise that required me to obtain some information I didn't want. Without telling her, I chose my parents. They had more secrets than anyone needed. At night, I dreamed of Antarctica and Rogue. I saw images of her lying naked in a cave, and I watched her fly away from a cliff where Papa waited. He considered jumping, but refrained. It wasn't in him to give up. He almost died on that god forsaken tundra. He would have, too, if Mr. Sinister had not intervened. His minions found my father and brought him to one of Sinister's labs. Papa's original arms and legs were frost-bitten beyond repair, and had to be amputated. At that point, Papa woke up and found himself less of a man. He agreed to any terms Sinister requested – he just wanted to be whole again. He just wanted to put his arms around Rogue again.

Papa didn't blame Rogue because she'd been manipulated. First, she had her powers stripped, leading to her first sexual encounter. Then her powers were returned, and she was forced to absorb Papa's memories. She discovered some things she didn't like, but Papa was never given a chance to explain himself. Instead, Rogue was encouraged to hate him, and the information twisted to make Papa look like a villain. By the time she realized she'd been brainwashed, it was too late. Her pride kept her from ever truly apologizing, but he forgave her anyway.

The entire event had been orchestrated by the X-Men's greatest foe – Magneto. He wanted to divide the team and take Rogue for himself.

My father suffered unimaginable torments, sold his soul to the devil, and humbled himself enough to forgive Rogue… Only to discover Magneto's plan had worked. A younger, more appropriate version of the scoundrel lived at the mansion and had Rogue's eye.

My poor father.

But the visions didn't stop when I left Foxx's room. During classes, my thoughts were flooded with things I didn't need to know. I overheard the last thing Momma had said to Oncle Julien. It was an argument about my parent's upcoming wedding.

"I won't let you do dis, Bella! Dis ain't what Papa would've wanted!"

"You t'ink dis is what I want? I'm bein' forced t' marry dat T'ief on accord a' de Guilds! We been at war longer den anyone can remember. Why peace so important now?"

"Don't play victim wit' me! Everyone knows you been sleepin' wit' him for years. About time he did de honorable t'ing."

"I wish I'd never met him, Julien. Dis whole weddin's a joke! I'm so ashamed of what I've done."

No wonder Momma blamed herself for Oncle Julien's actions. Her words simmered in his mind and finally spilled out in mortal combat. Oncle Julien thought he was protecting my mother and her honor.

But I knew the truth… Oncle Julien had planned on assassinating my father long before her little outburst. He had a plan, an alibi, and the means to do it. The fact that my mother had seemingly given her blessing only encouraged him to act openly. She had actually saved my father's life.

"You're getting dopey, aren't you?" Foxx said.

We were in her room again. As usual, I was lying on her bed and she sat beside me. When I opened my eyes, I couldn't shake the disconnected feeling I had with visions. Maybe she was just another dream.

"Wha-?" I rubbed my eyes.

"Dopey. That's what my friend called it…"

"You can say 'her'," I said irritably. "I don't need psychic powers to know that!"

"You're losing your grip on reality. You need to spend more time in the here and now."

"Okay, I will. I can do dat on m' own. Let's keep going."

Information that was harder to obtain required me to quiet my consciousness so that my sub-consciousness could work. Foxx taught me how to do that. One day while in her dorm room, I learned something about myself. After my parents split up, my mother had casual boyfriends. Only a few of them found a place in her heart, but none of them were allowed in her life. Sometimes I would find a card or flowers they had sent to the house. That would be the last of them. Momma didn't play games: she said she didn't want them involved in her family, and she meant it.

A few times, I would lie awake in bed at night, and I could hear a man's voice. He was in my house. I figured Momma must've really liked this one, and hopefully I'd get to meet him soon. If I'd gotten out of bed and walked to the stairs, I would've seen my father. Momma could've led him upstairs and opened my bedroom door. He would've seen me "sleeping", and realized Belle had a daughter. Some very quick and inescapable math would've revealed he had a daughter.

Would he have stayed?

How different my life could've been… If only I'd gotten out of bed.

.::.

Momma and Rogue seemed to be speaking less, but I didn't think much of it. Friends had times of unfriendliness, like anyone else.

My new friend Renegade decided to stay at the school. He gave no last name or home address. We all assumed he was just another runaway. Momma took one look at him and said: "Dat boy's a Thief. No, I mean he's a Thief." He never did admit it, but Momma was right. He was a hustler and initiated member of the Thieves Guild. What had led to his banishment was a mystery to me.

…

Friday night, I went to bed with some cramps. I couldn't remember if it was time for my period again or not, but assumed it was. I was in pain all night. While dreaming, I had flashes of blood and snow. Thick winter clouds blocked out the sun and rained thick, red, liquid life. Dark blood crystallized upon reaching the icy tundra. I was soaking wet: covered in sweat. I peeled back damp sheets, thinking I'd wet the bed. Turning on the bedside lamp, I saw Rogue's bed soaked in blood.

I literally shot up from the dream. Still half asleep, I almost tripped over my sheets running to the sick ward. Dr. McCoy and Momma were already there. They looked stunned to see me.

"Miss LeBeau, how did you-"

"Chere, you're pants."

I looked down. I had started my period, and bright red blood stains were everywhere. In the bathroom, Momma washed the blood out of my clothes out and found me a substitute. Ever the multi-tasker, she comforted me through the stall.

"I know you're embarrassed, baby, but it happens t' everyone."

"Is Rogue gonna be okay?"

"How did you know about dat?"

"Momma!"

"Oui, she'll be fine."

"And de twins?"

No answer.

Momma handed me a pair of blue cotton sweat pants over the stall door. "Dr. McCoy's tryin' t' telegraph your father."

I heard the hopelessness in her voice and started to cry again.

"Open de door, baby."

"It ain't supposed t' happen like dis!" I sobbed.

"Open de door, Honor. Don't make me crawl on dis nasty floor."

I unlatched the stall door and covered my face. "Papa already knows," I told her. "He and I get de same dreams. We were dreamin' about Rogue. Dat's how I knew."

"My baby's so clever."

She helped me get composed and told me what she knew. Rogue's blood pressure was sky-rocketing, and the twins were in shock. Dr. McCoy was considering an emergency cesarean. At this point, they would be viable, but their chances outside the womb were as good as they were inside. However, if he did nothing, Rogue would certainly slip into a coma. That could result in her death, and the loss of her children. He had little time to make a decision, and no one to act on the twins' behalf should Rogue become incapacitated. Papa didn't have time to return, so Dr. McCoy needed him to name someone to act in his place.

"Nate! We've gotta get Nate!"

Momma just looked at me.

"Tell Dr. McCoy I'm goin' t' get Nate! He can help!"

I ran to the boy's hall, where I remembered I didn't know his room number. Some great precog I was! There! 35! I somehow knew, and pounded on his door. When half-asleep Nate answered, I drug him by the wrist.

*Is it my dad?* He thought, running with me.

*No, it's Rogue. Stress. Blood-pressure. Papa's in Antarctica!*

He ran past me to the sick ward. I hoped he would know what to do. With all the excitement, I hadn't been able to clearly relay my thoughts. My legs cramped, and I had to walk to rest of the way.

…

While Dr. McCoy was relaying the telegraph, his intern Dr. Reyes was preparing Rogue for surgery. Her hair was pulled back into a shower cap, and she was given an I.V. in her right arm. Momma held her left hand and asked: "Is there anyt'ing I can do for you, chere?"

"If you have to make a choice," Rogue said, "Ah want you to save my babies."

They both cried, and Momma wiped away Rogue's tears.

"I ain't gonna leave your side," Momma told her. "I'm gonna be right here de whole time. No matter what, hear?"

…

When I returned to the infirmary, Nate was holding Rogue's hand.

She looked radiant.

"I cannot explain the scientific mechanisms, but our good son has corrected Rogue's anomalies." Dr. McCoy smiled fondly at me. "I can only assume the issue was within her mind. And let's not overlook the Seer with the solution."

"Really?" I panted. "Dey're okay?"

Nate pressed his hands in prayer formation and turned his eyes upward.

"Yes, sister. Praise be my name."

"Nate… It's a miracle." To my embarrassment, I started crying again. "We need t'… tell Papa…"

"Never mind your father," Momma dismissed it. "Maybe a little scare will do 'm good."

She was wrong, but I was so relieved that I let it go.

As the sun rose, it cleared away our negative thoughts. Like birds rising from the nest, we fluttered out the infirmary and went about our day. We had worms to catch and appetites to feed. Unbeknownst to us, we weren't the only ones on the hunt.