Chapter Twenty:


Rays of golden sunlight danced across the surface of the water, flickering over the ripples like fireflies against a night canvas. The waves rolled gently against the shore, crashing softly as they broke, sending light sprays of foam across the sand.

The warm summer air was cooled by a gentle sea breeze that tousled her hair slightly. Rogue sat alone on the beach, watching the water in silence, enjoying the moment of tranquility. For she knew that it wouldn't last.

Since the day that Magneto's Acolytes rescued her from Trask's base, she'd been recuperating well, getting a lot of rest, eating real food for the first time in months, smiling sometimes, even laughing. She was actually beginning to feel like her old self again.

Except she wasn't her old self anymore, was she? She wasn't Rogue the X-man. She wasn't the quiet, sarcastic goth girl who shared a room with Kitty and bickered endlessly with Jean. She wasn't Carol Danvers, either, though, despite the memories in her head that begged otherwise.

She didn't know who she was now.

And things kept getting even more complicated with each passing day.

When she'd first arrived at Magneto's base, when she'd first laid eyes on his son, the first thing she had done was attack. It had been pure instinct, three months of anger and pain bottled up within her, like a lit fuse.

After so many weeks to calm down, to reflect back on it, Rogue knew one thing for sure. There was no way in hell she regretted it. Not after what Pietro had done to her, to all of them.

Still, though, she found that her hardened anger towards the silver haired mutant was softening more and more as time went on. She cared about him still, no matter how much she wished she didn't.

But she didn't trust him.

She couldn't.

And she probably never would again.

Sighing, she glanced around at her surroundings. The private island offered an endless stretch of beach against the quiet, crystal blue water. She hadn't ventured farther than the immediate area around the base, so she didn't know what the rest of the island looked like, but Remy had told her there really wasn't much to look at. Magneto had a few storage bunkers around, but they were impossible to get into, the locks keyed to his unique DNA.

Not that Rogue cared much about any of that. Magneto was right about one thing, she had nowhere to go. The Professor was still missing, and she didn't know when, or if, they'd find him. And until they did, there was no point in her making any sort of move against Magneto. Besides, as much as she loathed to admit it, Rogue was beginning to see that there was more to Magneto than the cold mutant terrorist she had always taken him for.

Evan and Hank seemed to be realizing the same thing. They'd gotten comfortable here, let their guards down enough that they allowed themselves to act civil, even polite in Hank's case, to Magneto. They were both trying to make the best of their time on the island.

But sometimes she would catch them looking out at the ocean, a sad look on their faces, and she knew that they were thinking about the others. Magneto had given them plenty of freedom, they could wander around as much as they liked. He didn't have to worry about them trying to escape. Where were they going to escape to?

The mansion had been destroyed. They had seen as much on the news footage Magneto had taped. That had been months ago. Magneto had searched for the Professor, but to no avail. There were no signs of the others, either, not even of the Brotherhood, and that was concerning.

Rogue, Hank and Evan were refugees. They had no home, not really. So they stayed with Magneto, because they had nowhere else to go. Not that she was entirely sure Magneto would have let them leave if they'd tried. They knew where his base was, after all.

It wasn't that bad, she supposed, being stuck there on the island with Magneto and the Acolytes. Mainly because of Gambit. Since the day he had broken her out of her dark, damp cell, he had gone out of his way to make sure that she was comfortable, to make sure she was doing alright. He'd gotten her books and shoes during his trips to the mainland, and he'd done dozens of little things to make her smile.

Like that night we danced under the stars, she thought with a smile.

Remy was extraordinarily handsome, a fact that Rogue was growing more and more aware of every day. She was also growing more and more aware of the fact that his feelings for her ran deeper than platonic friendship. He wasn't afraid to touch her, like most people were. He would finger her hair, squeeze her gloved hand in his, rub her back through the clothes Magneto had provided for her. It was getting harder and harder for Rogue to deny her feelings for him.

And the worst part was she didn't want to deny them. Since her powers had first manifested, Rogue had gone out of her way to push people away from her, to keep them all at arms length. Her friends had gotten past her defenses, of course. She adored Kitty, she'd cherished Bobby's joking nature, she cared deeply for Kurt, she had even had a crush on Scott for a while. But this was entirely new, and entirely different.

Rogue, the girl who was forever cursed to never know the touch of another living soul, was falling in love.

And what was even worse was that Remy was falling in love with her, too. The one girl who was truly untouchable. She could see it in his eyes, those dark, swirling pools of flame and shadow, whenever he looked at her. He was one of those people who expressed their emotions through their eyes, and when he looked at her, he didn't even try to hide what he was feeling.

What does it matter what he's feeling? Carol snapped bitterly. She'd been in a poor mood all morning. He can't touch you. Not ever. So why bother? As soon as he can get away from here, he'll find someone else. Someone he can touch, someone he can kiss.

No, Rogue insisted hoarsely. No, he ain't like that.

Isn't like what? Carol demanded. A guy? Hello! Rogue, you can't even kiss him! You can't hold his hand, you can't touch his cheek. You can't do any of the things normal girls do. You aren't normal.

Neither are ya, Rogue reminded her weakly. Ya ain't even real. Ya nothin' but a shadow, jus' a ghost.

Because you killed me, Carol shot back.

Ya aren't dead! Rogue snapped. Ya body is perfectly alive back at that base.

But I'm in a coma, Rogue. I'm in a coma, and I'm never going to wake up, Carol said coldly. How can I, when I'm living inside of you?

Rogue closed her eyes tightly, but that didn't stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks.

Stop that, Carol snapped. No one feels sorry for you. You deserve this, you know that? You deserve it, for what you did to me!

"Ah know," Rogue whispered hoarsely. "Ah know Ah deserve this. Ya don't hafta tell me that! Ah'm a murderer. Ah took ya life from ya. Ah know Ah deserve this."

"Young Mistress Danvers is wrong, Rogue," a deep, resonate voice said from behind her.

Rogue felt every hair on her body stand on end and chill shot through her body so deep that it seeped into her very bones. She'd been around the Master of Magnetism plenty since her arrival at the base, but she had not had to be alone with him, and she now that she was, it was a little intimidating.

"What do you want?" she rasped, not turning to look at him.

"Turn around, child," he told her.

Rogue swallowed, but did not turn. He wasn't the Professor. She didn't have to listen to him. Who cared if it was his base? Who cared if he had rescued her? Who cared if he'd saved her life? He was Magneto, not Xavier, and she was not his child.

"Please," Magneto said, and there was something almost gentle in his tone.

Begrudgingly, Rogue turned her head to look at him. The Master of Magnetism stood behind her in his armor and cape, but his helmet had been discarded. Without it, he looked strikingly like Pietro, with the same silvery-white hair, the same intense sapphire blue eyes. He was a handsome man, with elegant features that would have been far more attractive if they were not spoiled by the stern frown on his face and the cool, glacial hue to his eyes.

"What do ya want?" Rogue asked, in what she hoped was a steady voice.

"I have something for you," Magneto said simply, and a small metal box floated over to her, hovering just before her, waiting for her to reach for it.

Rogue eyed it suspiciously, unsure if she should take it. This was Magneto, the enemy. Yes, he had rescued her, yes, he had clothed her, fed her and given her shelter for all these weeks, but he was still Magneto. Still her enemy. Still the man who had knocked her unconscious in the skies over New York City and let her fall to what would have been her death had Warren not been there to catch her.

"It will not harm you," Magneto said evenly. "You have my word."

Rogue scowled. "Not that the word o' a Maximoff means anythin'."

"Actually, I am a Lensherr," Magneto corrected calmly. "And it is safe for you to open it, I promise. There is nothing in there that Charles Xavier would not approve of me giving to you."

Rogue swallowed, biting her lip, then extended her hand. The box floated over to her, settling gently on her upturned palm. Hesitantly, she lifted the lid, and peered inside. She blinked, startled by the contents.

"It's a bracelet," she stated, confused. Why was Magneto giving her jewelry? Did he think that her allegiance could be bought? That if he gave her enough pretty things she would leave the X-men and join the Acolytes?

"It is much more than that, I assure you," Magneto said indignantly. "The metal appears to be silver, but it is actually an alkaline metal I discovered while on Asteroid M. I call it magnusine. It seems to have a rather unique ability to negate mutant powers."

Rogue's eyes widened in shock, and her heart leapt in her chest. "Does that mean...?" she didn't dare finish the sentence, for fear it would all be just a dream.

"That it will allow you the simple gift of touch?" Magneto asked knowingly. "Yes, it does."

Rogue's eyes stung with tears for the second time that morning, but this time they were happy tears. She would be able to touch. After all this time, after all the years of loneliness and the solitude...she would be able to touch at long last.

"The stone you see in the middle is called a selectonite," Magneto said evenly. "I assume Mr. McCoy has taught you something about the properties of this element?"

Rogue blinked, searching her memory. She did remember something about it, something Mr. McCoy had said during one of their lessons at the Institute. But she hadn't really paid much attention to his science teachings. Now she wished that she had.

"Ah remember him mentionin' it," she answered vaguely.

"Then I'm sure you remember him saying that selectonite has quite a large capacity for channeling energy," Magneto said, a slight smugness to his tone. "And that, in theory, it should be able to isolate different types of energy, and block them, while allowing others to exist."

Rogue scrunched her nose in confusion, not understanding where he was going with this, but nodded anyway.

"It would seem," Magneto said. "That this theory is correct."

He let that hang there, as if that should explain everything. Maybe it did, but Rogue sure as hell didn't understand it. What was he-

I don't believe it, Carol whispered angrily. I don't believe it!

What? Rogue demanded. What is it?

Your powers! Carol snapped. That bracelet doesn't block all your powers, just your imprinting ability! You get to keep my powers, even with it-

Rogue gasped softly and slammed down the mental wall between her and Carol, smothering out the other girl's raging anger. She looked up at Magneto, her eyes searching his. "This can really... Ah mean, Ah can... With this on Ah can touch an' fly at the same time?"

Magneto nodded somberly. "Yes," he confirmed. "You can. The stone channels energy efficiently enough that it will allow you to control your absorbency powers mentally. To activate them again, you need only concentrate on them. When you let the concentration fade, so will the absorbency power. The braclet is very much indestructable, so it cannot be broken."

Rogue had to avert her eyes so he wouldn't see the tears welling there. "Ah..." she swallowed. "Ah don't know what t' say..."

"You may offer your thanks," Magneto suggested.

"Thank ya," Rogue whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "This means so... Ah can't even begin t' tell ya..." Her vision blurred, making Magneto appear as a wavery block of red and silver in front of her.

"I understand, child," he said, and something in his tone told her that he did, though she wasn't sure how he could. He turned on his heel, his cape billowing out behind him, and started back towards the base.

"Why?" she called after him.

"Excuse me?" he asked, stopping and glancing back at her over his shoulder, his silver hair bristling in the slight wind.

"Why did ya do this? Why did ya help me?" she elaborated. "Ah'm an X-man. Ah've absorbed ya before. Ah attacked ya when ya first brought us here. Ah'm ya enemy. Why do this fo' me?"

"You are not my enemy, child," Magneto said simply. "And neither is Charles Xavier. Believe it or not, your Professor and I share the same goals, we just have different methods of achieving them."

She watched him until he disappeared into the base, then turned to inspect the bracelet in her hand. She ran her fingers over the smooth metal, her breath catching in her throat softly. It was almost too good to be true, and part of her wondered if maybe it was. If maybe this wasn't just one of Magneto's tricks.

But she had seen something in his cold, chilling eyes. Behind the mask of indifference and calloused determination, she had seen sincerity.

With trembling hands, she removed the bracelet from the box, tossing the box aside. Her fingers shook as she fumbled to clasp it around her wrist, her tears spilling onto her cheeks as she finally managed to get it on.

Instantly, she felt something. Sort of a tingle, that went from the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes.

Rogue smiled, tears streaming down her cheeks.

She was free.