Chapter Two:


The black silence was shattered by a horrible shrieking that seemed to reverberate through her entire body.

The girl known as Rogue-or was she Carol?- blinked, her vision swimming as bursts of red light erupted in her eyes. She groaned, her very bones throbbing, and turned her head groggily towards the cell door.

The building shook, the walls trembling as dust fell around her, and the sounds of explosions rang in the distance. Red light was flashing wildly, bathing the dark corridor in a blood red hue.

What...? she thought, but her mind was too murky for her to get any farther. What.... what....what.... The one thought seemed to echo in her mind, bouncing off of the walls of her brain, slamming against her with a pounding headache.

Yelling and gunfire echoed in the distance, and she winced, placing a hand to her temple in pain. Why was it so noisy all of the sudden? What had happened to the silence? She liked the silence. The silence didn't hurt.

An attack? Carol wondered, and Rogue groaned, grabbing her head. Every word that Carol spoke was like a nail being hammered through her head.

Shut up, she muttered, her mind blurring.

Bite me, Carol snapped, the wailing screeches in the background searing through her mind. Rogue let out a whimper, the noise, the lights, the hazy vision making her feel like she was going to be sick. The noise was the worst, though, like someone was electrocuting her nerve endings.

It was unbearable.

There was a heavy creaking sound, followed by a loud explosion that made the floor under her tremble. Gasping, she pushed herself onto her knees, her head spinning, and struggled to stay conscious as darkness began to seep into her mind.

"Dis way!" a male voice called in the dark, echoing in her ears with a painful intensity.

Make it stop, she pleaded silently. God, make it stop!

Shut up, Carol shouted, and she let out a soft cry of pain. Maybe we're being rescued!

Rescued? What was that? She couldn't remember. She knew that it was good, she knew that it meant something, something that she had been praying for, but there was something wrong with her head. She couldn't think...she couldn't...

My God, Carol muttered. Did they drug you? No, no, they didn't. Good Lord, they really did a number on you, didn't they? You're so weak you can hardly keep from fainting.

Shut up, Rogue pleaded hoarsely, the room spinning. Please, shut up. It hurts! It hurts... God, it hurts...

Amazingly enough, Carol's voice faded from her mind. Unfortunately, the pain did not, and she had to bite her lip to stay conscious. She was only dimly aware that the coppery taste on her tongue was blood.

"Petite?" the voice called out, booming horribly. "Petite, y'dere?"

Rogue groaned as the pounding of footsteps grew nearer. The floor was turning darker than it should have been, and the rough tiles were starting to swirl together into a fearful blur. She heard someone curse in some language that she knew that she should know, but she couldn't concentrate on the words enough to figure them out.

"Chere?" the voice asked, a flat, slow echo in her head, words slurring together. "Gotta get back, non? Gon' be a big explosion. You don' wan' get caught in it, hear?"

She could only moan in reply.

"Bloody hell," another voice cried. "Look at her, mate! She can't move even if she can hear you! She's a mess!"

"Den we jus' gon' hafta do dis carefully, non, mon ami?" the first voice replied. "You jus' watch the fille, 'kay? If Remy get too close t'her, tell me."

"Right. Just hurry, will you? We don't have much bloody time here!"

"Know dat, Remy does," the first voice snapped.

There was a shuffling sound that she knew was quiet, but it thundered in her ears like drumming. There was a sudden and hungry spark of red, and some distant part of Rogue's mind was screaming for her to get out of the way.

But she was in no shape to move anywhere.

There was another explosion, this one much smaller, but much, much closer. There was a terrible creak and groan, and then the sound of heavy metal hitting the ground. She lifted her head weakly, squinting through the black haze creeping into her vision, and saw the door to her cell laying on the floor.

A blur of movement to her left and then she felt hands touching her back. She tired to pull away, tried to run, but she only collapsed on the floor, her legs too weak to support her for even the shortest of seconds.

"Careful dere, petite," the first voice said, too close to her ear for comfort, but she couldn't do anything about it. "You ain't fit t'be walkin' jus' yet. Remy gon' hafta carry you."

She must have moaned something, because soft, rich laughter filled her ears, and she felt the body next to her shake slightly.

"Don' worry, chere. Remy ain't gon' hurt you. Promise. We jus' gon' get you outta here, okay, petite?"

Will you quit it? Carol demanded. They're here to rescue us! Stop struggling, already!

"Shut up," she rasped.

There was more laughter, this time higher pitched. "I don't think she likes you much, mate."

"She ain't all dere right now, homme. Give her time an' she will. 'Sides, don' matter if she like Remy none right now. Right now we jus' got a job t'do. An' dat means we gon' get her outta here right quick, non?"

"Pick her up, then! We don't have time to fool with her now. You can be polite to the girl later. We need to save our own hides first."

"Oui, good point, mon ami."

Rogue moaned as she felt strong arms scoop her up gently, cradling her tightly. "No..." she groaned, her eyes fluttering. "Can't touch...skin..."

"Don' worry none, petite," the voice reassured her soothingly. "Remy ain't gon' touch yo' skin. He knows 'bout yo' mutation. We both covered good, non?"

A groan of relief escape her lips.

"Jus' hang on, 'kay, chere?" the rich voice echoed in her head. "Jus' hang on fo' a bit and den we be outta dis mess."

Her eyelids felt like sandbags, but somehow she forced them open a slit, just enough to take in the face looming over hers. A low, throaty gasp cracked through her closed mouth as she blinked in surprise.

She knew that face.

It was a face that she could never forget. A face that had haunted her dreams while she was in captivity. The handsome, mysterious stranger who she had met during the battle with Magneto. The one who had given her the flaming Queen of Hearts.

"You..." she rasped, wheezing from the effort.

"Oui, chere," he replied, smiling faintly. "Don' talk none, save yo' strength."

Then they were moving. She could tell by the way she bounced slightly, despite his strong hold on her, with each running stride he took. She pressed her face against the soft, dark material over his chest, seeking it's warmth after so long in the cold shadows.

"Rogue!" a familiar voice shouted, echoing in her skull.

"Oh my," a deeper voice, akin to a growl, gasped out. This one, too, was familiar, though she could not place either of them.

"What happened to her? Is she okay?"

"She will be," her mysterious rescuer said curtly. "She jus' a l'il beat up, a li'l worn out. She gon' be fine once we get her outta dis trou d'enfer!"

"Give her to me! I'll carry her!"

"Non, mon ami, you won'. Dere be no room in de orb we got fo' you. Dere only room in de one Remy rode in. Dat's why Remy went t'find the fille. She be de only one o' you dat can fit in wit' another person. De rest o' you either too big, or jus' too uncomfortable, non?"

"She's hurt! She needs someone to-"

"Remy gon' take good care of de petite femme, you jus' worry 'bout yo'self."

"But-"

Rogue moaned. "Ev..." she rasped, the familiarity of the voice finally settling in her mind. "Jus'... shut up..."

The man carrying her chuckled. "See dere? De petite dame is fine where she is. Now let's go b'fo you get us all caught, non?"

Rogue moaned, her eyes starting to roll up slightly.

"S'okay, chere," the voice whispered gently. "Jus' rest. Remy'll get you outta here. You jus' rest and let ol' Gambit worry 'bout de rest."

That seemed like a very good idea to Rogue, and a moment later, she gave in and let the darkness swallow her up.

Translations:

femme- woman

dame- lady

trou d'enfer- hellhole