Chapter Fifteen:


She didn't see Remy at all the following day. When she woke up, he and the other Acolytes were already gone, off on some mission for Magneto.

Rogue was surprised at just how quiet the house was without the boys around to make noise. Evan and Fred were there, of course, but they both slept in late, and she was the first one downstairs for breakfast. When she entered the room, Mr. McCoy was leaning over the stove, cooking a pan full of eggs and humming to himself. It was such a simple moment, so reminiscent of the mornings back at the mansion when Rogue wouldn't be able to sleep and would rise before the others to find Hank cooking and Ororo making coffee. She half expected to see Logan sitting at the table, reading the paper, and for the Professor to roll into the room a moment later and comment on how good everything smelled.

But that didn't happen, of course. It never would. The mansion was destroyed. Logan was a prisoner of Operation: Wideawake. No one knew what had become of Ororo and the Professor.

Wordlessly, Rogue had helped Hank with breakfast, making sure that there was enough for Fred. Thankfully, she had lived with the large boy at the boarding house, and she knew how much it took to fill him up. When Hank had seen how many eggs she'd set aside for the Blob, though, his eyes had gotten so wide it was almost comical.

Evan and Fred had stumbled down after a while, the aroma of bacon and eggs being too tempting to withstand any longer. The four of them had eaten in comfortable silence, and when they'd finished, Hank had taken two plates to the door of Magneto's lab. Harmony had emerged in a white lab coat and taken them from him with a tired, but sincere smile.

Hours later, Harmony and Magneto had yet to come out of the lab, and Rogue was beginning to wonder just what the Master of Magnetism was doing down there. Apparently, she wasn't the only one.

Evan stared intently at the door leading down to the lab, a curious look on his face. He'd been staring at it for the past few minutes, and Rogue was getting annoyed. If he didn't say something soon, she was going to have to smack him.

They'd spent the day on their own for the most part, each just relaxing and enjoying some time to themselves. Rogue had taken her book back out onto the roof and stretched out in the sun for a bit while she read. Her skin was already darker than it had ever been before, a nice tan settling in on her once pale complexion. She had to admit, she rather liked it.

She wondered if Remy would, and then wanted to smack herself for thinking such things. It didn't matter if Remy liked it or not, they were enemies, she would not fall for him. Besides, she couldn't touch him, or anyone else for that matter, so what was the point in letting herself feel anything for anyone anyway?

Evan and Fred had watched television for most of the day, and Rogue marveled to herself at how well they could get along when they weren't on opposing teams. She doubted that they would become best friends or anything, but stranger things had happened. After all, once upon a time Evan and Pietro had been friends, back in their youth, before things got so complicated.

Hank had read a book that he had found somewhere in the house, probably from Magneto's study. The blue furred teacher had made himself at home in one of the large armchairs, and had been content to stay there reading for most of the day.

Rogue had finished her book, though, during the afternoon, and had gotten bored since the sun had dipped down behind the clouds. So she had gone back into the house to find Evan and Fred, and settled down on the couch to watch the movie they were watching on the WB.

Evan, however, wasn't watching the television, he was staring at the door leading to Magneto's lab, an impatient expression on his face. He wanted to know what was going on down there, and it was driving him crazy not knowing.

Geez, Carol groaned. Why don't one of you just ask already?! What's the worst Magneto will do? Tell you it's none of your business?!

Ya never know, Rogue replied. He might kill us if we get nosy.

So? Carol demanded shortly. It's not like he can do any worse than that. Besides, a few weeks ago you were actually looking forward to dying. Why do you care?

Rogue gritted her teeth, but didn't answer.

Oh God, Carol rolled her eyes. That Cajun?! Is that why you want to live now? Because some idiotic prettyboy has shown a bit of interest in you? It's a passing thing, Rouge, it always will be. That's all it can ever be. You can't touch anyone. Ever. No guy is going to ever want to stick around.

In her heart Rogue knew that she was right. What guy would want to be with someone he could never touch? But knowing it was true didn't take the sting out of Carol's words, in fact, it made them hurt even more.

Jus' shut up, she snapped.

Aww, did I hit a nerve? Carol snickered. Poor Rogue, she can't ever touch anyone. Well, what about poor Carol, who can't even live in her own body anymore? Huh? What about her?!

Rogue closed her eyes tightly, focusing hard on brining up her mental shields. It took a few moments, but she managed to do it, and Carol's shrill protests were smothered out into a barely audible, muffled sound like humming.

Rogue let out a soft groan of relief, which drew Evan's attention away from the door as he turned to look at her, a concerned look on his face. "You okay, man?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered. "Carol was jus' bein' a bit loud, but Ah'm fine now." Seeing his skeptical expression, she smiled faintly to reassure him. "Really."

He nodded, satisfied, and glanced back at the door again. "What do you think he's doing there?" he asked, and she was glad someone had finally voiced what they were all thinking.

"Who knows," Rogue said with a shrug. "The man is crazy. Ah'm sure he's down there doin' whatever it is that mad supervillains bent on takin' over the world do in their spare time."

"Maybe he's making cookies," Fred said with a wistful smile.

Evan and Rogue exchanged amused glances. "I doubt that, man," Evan replied. "Somehow I just can't see Magneto baking."

"Ah dunno," Rogue retorted with a smirk. "It makes sense. Why else would he have a secret lab? So no one can see him walkin' 'round in his li'l white apron."

Fred and Evan both laughed, and even Rogue had to grin at the image that popped into her head of Magneto running around the kitchen checking on timers and tasting his concoctions to be sure they were just right. It would be a sight to see, although Rogue wouldn't dare to try and eat anything that he cooked. She'd tasted some of Pietro's attempts at cooking back when she lived at the Brotherhood house, and if Magneto's culinary skills were anything like his son's, she'd be better off starving.

"Rogue?"

She turned to look at Fred. "Yeah, sugar?"

He bit his lip, a hesitant flicker in his eyes. "What did Pietro say to you the other day on the beach?"

From the way Evan sat up straighter, it was obvious the two of them had discussed asking her already, and that they'd probably speculated on what might have been said between the former gothic beauty and the quickfooted charmer. Rogue sighed, shaking her head. As much as she would have rather not talked about Pietro, she knew she had to. They had a right to know, after all. He had betrayed them, too.

"He wanted t' try an' make me understand," she told them, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees. "Wanted t' explain why he'd done the things that he did an' all."

As if any amount o' explainin' could undo what he did, she thought bitterly.

"And what was his excuse?" Evan asked with a snort.

"He didn't make one," Rogue replied simply. " He says he can't apologize fo' what he did, cuz he did it fo' his father. Seemed ready t' jus' accept responsibility fo' his actions."

"Pietro? Take responsibility for something?" Evan scoffed. "Yeah, right, man. He's never taken responsibility for anything in his life."

Rogue was surprised when Fred didn't come to his teammate's defense, but then she realized she shouldn't be. Pietro's betrayal had hurt the other boy deeply. Though prob'ly not as deeply as it did Lance, she mused to herself. Lance and Pietro had been close, like brothers, it would be a long time before the mutant known as Avalanche was willing to even think about forgiving him.

Rogue shrugged. "He jus' wanted us t' know that he didn't do it because o' any dislike fo' us. He did it fo' his father. He wanted us t' understand that, t' understand all o' it."

"All of it?" Fred echoed with a confused frown.

"About Wanda, about his father. About himself." She shook her head, her chest aching. "He says didn't really anyone t' get hurt, that it was jus' about Magneto an' all..."

"And he's always had father issues," Fred finished for her with a mutter. "He's always wanted that man's approval, his entire life, and he's never gotten it."

Rogue nodded. "Mystique an' the Professor both wanted Magneto outta the way, an' Pietro took that as wantin' him dead. Now Ah know the Prof didn' want him dead, Magneto used t' be his friend. The only way he'd want him killed was if there was no other way. Ah can't speak fo' Mystique, no one ever knows what she's after until she tells ya herself."

Or until she blows up ya home, she added with a silent growl.

"That's for sure," Fred grumbled darkly.

"So all of this was because he wanted to protect his old man?" Evan demanded angrily, obviously eager to steer their focus away from Mystique.

"All o' this because he wanted t' protect his father," Rogue agreed bitterly.

"Some father," Fred scoffed. "He treats Pietro like crap, only shows up when he wants something. He doesn't care about him, or about Wanda. What kind of father uses his son and locks his daughter away in a mental institution?"

"A really screwed up one, man," Evan replied.

"Ya can say that again," Rogue murmured.

"Like father, like son, huh?" Evan asked with a scowl. "Bet the little jerk doesn't even regret what he did, does he?"

Rogue swallowed. "No," she answered quietly. "Jus' the way it went down."

"Same old Pietro," Fred said with a scowl. "He never did regret anything he did."

"Yeah," Rogue agreed, averting her gaze. "Same old Pietro."

They sat in silence for a long moment, each caught up in their own thoughts and reflections. Rogue felt a heaviness in her chest that she didn't like, but she couldn't ignore. Pietro was the same boy she had known in some ways, and that was exactly the problem. If he'd changed completely, she would have been able to just write him off completely, but he hadn't. Somewhere inside of him that cocky, hyper boy with the flashy bravado and sensitive demeanor hidden underneath it still existed. The boy that she had called friend.

The only question was, was there enough of that boy left for her to forgive him?

Rogue didn't know, and, quite frankly, she didn't feel like pondering it over right then. Dealing with Pietro was hard, it was complicated.

She wanted more than anything for things to just be simple for a while.

"Ya know," she said thoughtfully, eager to change the subject. "Ah think it would be kinda nice if we actually had some real food for dinner t'night, what about ya guys? Harmony isn't much o' a cook, an' she's been real busy." She stood up, smiling. "What do ya say? Think Ah should whip us up somethin' that's more than jus' edible?"

"That would be sweet, man!" Evan cried, a hopeful grin on his face.

"Maybe you could make some of that cornbread that you used to make back home?" Fred asked hopefully, his mouth watering.

Rogue smiled, remembering how Fred had always gobbled down her cooking, how Todd had always tried to sneak a taste before it was done, how Pietro had zipped around the kitchen asking what she was doing every time she moved. Only Lance had been patient enough to wait until she was done. He would sit at the table reading a comic book or something, ignoring the others and their irritating antics, until she announced that dinner was ready. In some ways she'd felt like they were playing house sometimes, and she was the mother, Lance the father, and Pietro, Todd and Fred their three messed up children.

Oh God, now that is a scary thought, she moaned to herself, shuddering slightly.

"Sure thing, Freddie," she said aloud with a small smile. "Ah think Ah can manage that. It might be a nice li'l surprise fo' the Acolytes t' come home an' find themselves an actual meal waitin'."

"I highly doubt any of them can even boil water," Evan muttered.

"Maybe even the ol' fleabitten carpet himself will sit down and eat," Rogue said. "'Stead of goin' off on his own t' hunt."

"Yes, but do we really want him to eat with us?" Evan asked. "His table manners have gotta be worse than Blob's, man!"

"Yeah," Fred said, either not offended or not catching on. "Sabertooth isn't exactly what I'd call an ideal dinner guest."

"No, he ain't," Rogue agreed with a wicked smirk. "But maybe Ah'll add a li'l extra somethin' t' his. Say arsenic, perhaps?"

Evan snorted, rolling his eyes. "He'd smell it, remember? Enhanced senses and all?"

Rogue shrugged. "Back t' the drawin' board then. Ah guess if we can't kill the fleabitten carpet, we'll hafta settle for annoyin' the hell outta him."

"You like to live dangerously, don't you?" Evan asked, rolling his eyes.

Rogue grinned at him. "O' course Ah do, sugar. An' ya do, too. After all, we're X-men."

"You're lunatics, is what you are," Fred admonished dryly. "Both of you."

"Hey, you try living with Wolverine for a while and then we'll talk," Evan retorted.

"No, thanks," Fred grunted. "I think I'd rather be stuck living with Sabertooth."

Rogue raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Why is that?"

"Are you kidding?" Fred asked. "All those danger room sessions of yours that Wolverine runs? At least Sabertooth would just kill me and get it over with."