Chapter Twenty-Four:


Rogue lay on her back, sprawled on the slanted roof of the beach house, gazing up at the stars overhead. Back home in Bayville, she used to stargaze some nights when she couldn't sleep. She would climb out her window and crawl up onto the sloped roof. Kitty had nearly phased right through the floor in shock the first time she caught her out there. Rogue had enjoyed laying on the roof and watching the stars, though, and Kitty had gotten used to it after a while.

From here, though, Rogue was amazed at all the different stars she was seeing, at how much clearer and brighter they all looked from the island. The air was different here, too, the warm breeze carrying a salty hint of the majestic ocean surrounding it. There was just something about this place, something that seemed brighter and happier.

Maybe it wasn't this place, at all, maybe it was Remy. He brought out the best in her, he really did. He'd never been afraid of her powers, he'd seen past the attitude and angry facade to find the girl she really was underneath it all. When she'd absorbed him, she'd seen him, heart and soul, and she knew that he was falling in love with her. Which was perfectly okay with Rogue, because she was falling in love with him, too.

And now that she could touch him, could share as many kisses with him as she desired, without the fear of her powers absorbing his, she felt more at peace than she had in a long, long time.

"'Love doth quench the greatest thirsts, feed the embers of the raging fire, and to all ends grant the rarest peace in mankind's hearts'," she quoted aloud, remembering one of the Shakespearean lines that Mr. McCoy had quoted for them back at school. "Now Ah know what that means. Too late, o' course, t' get it right on the stupid test."

"Don't feel bad, I missed that one, too."

Rogue snorted softly. "No surprise, there, sugar. Ya were copying off o' me."

Pietro chuckled. "Saw that, did you?"

"Blur out o' the corner of mah eye, slight breeze rufflin' mah paper," Rogue mused aloud. "Who else would it be?"

"You didn't rat me out," Pietro pointed out.

"Yeah, well, Ah may be regrettin' that now," Rogue replied honestly, but she flashed him a faint smirk over her shoulder to show that she wasn't angry. "What are ya doin' up here? Ah used t' try an' get ya t' come up on the roof with me back at the boardin' house, an' ya wouldn't do it."

"That's because I was never that sure you wouldn't try and push me off," Pietro replied dryly from where he was leaning against the side of the chimney. He walked over to the edge of the roof and peered down. "That'd be quite a fall. Not nearly as bad as falling from the roof of the boarding house, but still a bad fall."

"Not for me," Rogue retorted with a smirk. "Ah can fly, remember?"

Pietro shot her a mock scowl before sitting down next to her. "Yeah, well, I have super speed, but you don't see me bragging about it."

Rogue snorted. "Pietro? Brag?" She rolled her eyes. "Never." Her expression turned serious as she gazed at the handsome speed demon beside her. "Why did ya come up here, Pietro?" she asked.

"Same old Roguey," Pietro muttered. "Subtle as an atomic missile."

"And now just as deadly," Rogue added with a wry smirk. "So why are ya here?"

Pietro sighed, looking down at his feet. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I thought you might want to talk...about...you know..."

"Mystique?" Rogue finished knowingly, ignoring the way her chets tightened painfully at the woman's name.

Pietro nodded. "I mean, we may not be on the best of terms and all right now, but if there's anyone who would know what it's like to have an evil, psychotic mutant terrorist for a parent, it'd be me."

"Yeah," Rogue agreed. "Ah reckon ya would."

There was a moment of silence, and then Pietro said, "She missed you when you left, you know. She never said anything, but you could tell. She was angrier after that, and a lot less patient."

"She was never that patient t' begin with," Rogue reminded him dryly.

"Touche," he conceded. "But she did care about you, Rogue. For all her faults, for all the things she did to you, she did care about you." In a quieter voice, he added, "Unlike my father."

Rogue blinked. "Ya father cares about you, Pietro," she insisted, although she wasn't sure why. From what she had seen it didn't seem like he did at all, but something in the back of her mind told her that Magneto did care for Pietro, and for Wanda, he just couldn't show it.

"No, he doesn't," Pietro said bitterly, shaking his head. "He cares about my power. He cares about my usefulness. He doesn't care about me as a person, much less as his son."

"If ya think that," Rogue said. "Then why do ya stay with him? Why do ya keep helpin' him?"

"My mother died when Wanda and I were really little," Pietro said softly. "My father wasn't always the bitter man he is now. He used to be happy, kind. Before my mother was killed by anti-mutant terrorists who had been trying to take him out. He changed after that. It was like he just shut everyone out, like he decided he couldn't love anyone else ever again, or they'd end up receiving the same fate that she had."

Rogue was in shock. Pietro talked more than anyone she had ever known, and yet she had never heard him divulge so much personal information. He had never been one to talk about himself, beyond how great and fantastic he was, that is. She understood how big of a deal it was that he was trusting her enough to tell her this.

"He may not have showered us with affection after that, but he took care of us, you know?" Pietro continued. "And then Wanda's powers went haywire, and he had to lock her away, and he was the only one I had left."

"The only family ya had," Rogue murmured, understanding what he was getting at.

Pietro nodded. "I know he isn't the best father. He's not the father I'd pick if I had a choice. But he is my father. And that has to mean something."

"Ya right," Rogue told him. He looked up, surprised. "He is ya father, an' Mystique is mah mother. We can't change that, even if we wanna. But, Pietro, what ya gotta understand is that just cuz he's ya father don't mean that ya hafta follow in his footsteps. Ya gotta choose ya own path, ya can't let him choose it fo' ya."

"He won't let me choose," Pietro muttered.

"It ain't a matter o' lettin', Pietro. It's a matter o' doin'. Ya think Mystique let me leave the Brotherhood? Ya think she let me fight ya'll in battles? Ya think she let me decide fo' mahself what was right an' wrong?" Rogue shook her head. "Ya father can't make ya do anythin' ya don't wanna do, Pietro, the same way Mystique can't make me do nothin' Ah don't wanna do. If he cares about ya at all, he'll accept ya fo' whatever ya decide."

"You mean like Mystique accepted you and Blueboy joining the X-geeks?" Pietro asked sarcastically.

Rogue decided just this once not to punch him for the X-geeks remark and shrugged. "She abandoned Kurt as a baby. She chased me right in t' the Professor's arms by lying t' me like she did. Ah could care less whether or not she's okay with anythin' Ah do in mah life. She gave up the right fo' her opinion t' matter a long time ago."

"She's your mother," Pietro said, his tone conveying surprise and a bit of reproach, as if he found it hard to believe that she didn't care at all what her mother thought.

"Yeah, she's mah mother," Rogue said, and she was surprised to find that she could say that aloud without flinching. "But that's all she is. She gave me life, but it's mah life, Pietro, an' Ah get t' decide what Ah do with it, not her."

Pietro sighed. "It's not that easy for me, Rogue. You just found out Mystique was your mother. My father's raised me all of my life."

"An' ya know him better than Ah do," Rogue replied. "But what Ah gotta wonder, Pietro, is if ya even know him at all? Ah know mah mother. Yeah, Ah know she's a ruthless, manipulative terrorist, but at least Ah know her. Ah know that's who she is, what she is, an' Ah don't expect somethin' more than Ah see. Ya keep hopin' fo' his acceptance, fo' some sign o' affection, an' yet ya claim that he don't care at all. So why do ya keep botherin'?"

"I don't know," Pietro replied quietly, his voice barely a whisper.

"Ah think ya do," Rogue said. Pietro glanced at her incredulously, that typical 'what do you know' look on his face, so she continued before he could speak. "Deep down, ya know that ya father cares about ya, Pietro, that's why ya were willin' t' risk ya friendship with the boys. That's why ya were willin' t' let ya sister hate ya. That's why ya were ready t' follow him t' the ends o' the earth if he asked ya t'."

Pietro shifted uneasily. "And you're saying I shouldn't be? He's my father."

"An' ya his son," Rogue replied. "He oughtta be the one ready t' go t' any lengths fo' ya, not the other way around." She sighed. "Look, the thing is, we both got the short end o' the deal when it came t' our parents. Kurt an' Ah, we got a mother who don't deserve us, an' ya an' Wanda, ya'll got the same deal with Magneto. That can't be helped. We are who we are, an' our parents are who they are."

"Who I am is the son of Magneto," Pietro retorted. "That's all I am, all I'll ever be."

"Ya keep thinkin' like that an' ya right," Rogue snapped. "Look here, Maximoff, ya can try an' parade around with all this bullcrap about being his son, an' not havin' no say in what ya do, because o' who ya are, because o' who he is, but Ah ain't buyin' it. Mah mother is one o' the most heartless women Ah've ever met. She's cruel, she's selfish, she's vindictive, hell, she'd make a better assasin than a mother! But look at me, Pietro, look at Kurt. We're her children, her progeny, an' we ain't even the slightest bit like her!"

"Except for during that time of the month," Pietro muttered.

Rogue scowled at him darkly. "Mah point is, when ya get right down t' it, Mystique is evil. She may not have always been, an', yeah, there's gotta be some good still deep down inside o' her, but she's chosen t' be evil. She's had a hard life, the same as ya father, an' the circumstances they lived through are what's made 'em the way they are. But, Pietro, we ain't got those circumstances. We ain't them. Ya claim t' see ya father as a mutant savior, but Ah'll tell ya what the rest o' the world is gonna see him as- a terrorist. Nothin' but a terrorist."

"He's not-" Pietro began angrily.

"He is an' ya know it," Rogue snapped sharply, with enough venom in her voice to make him start in surprise. "Same as mah mother's a terrorist. But Ah ain't gonna let who she is, her issues, her twisted legacy, shape who Ah am, who Ah'm gonna be. Ah'm stronger than she is, Ah ain't gonna ever let mahself be that ruthless. An' because o' that, Ah ain't ever gonna be lost like her."

Pietro studied her in surprised silence for a long moment. "You've thought about this a lot since you found out, haven't you?" he asked.

Rogue nodded. "Yeah, Ah have."

"I thought you'd be more upset about it than you are."

"Ah was," Rogue admitted with a shrug. "Ah guess Ah still am a bit. That's because she lied t' me about mah past, because she kept me from ever gettin' t' know Kurt as mah brother, because she's responsible fo' the deaths o' people Ah loved. But as fo' bein' mah mother?" She shook her head, her hair falling lightly across her face. "That's somethin' Ah've no right t' hold against her."

Pietro tilted his head and eyed her in mild amusement. "You sure are dealing with this with a lot more maturity than I would have expected."

"Thanks," Rogue replied. "Ah- hey!" She smacked him on the arm, barely avoiding bruising him. "Ah'm always mature!"

Pietro snorted. "Riighht. I lived with you, remember? You can't even tell me that when you and Lance used to fight over the last bowl of Lucky Charms that was maturity."

"Maturity is based on slow, careful consideration," Rogue retorted, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, so?"

"So, Ah slowly, carefully considered whether or not Ah was nice enough t' let him have the last o' it, an' Ah slowly, carefully decided that Ah wasn't."

Pietro laughed, shaking his head, and Rogue couldn't help grinning. Pietro didn't laugh nearly enough. He had a nice laugh, she'd always thought so. "You have twisted logic, you know that?"

Rogue nodded. "So Ah'm told."

"I'm glad to see you handling this well," Pietro said with a small smile. "I was a little worried your reaction to the news would be kind of bad."

"It was, at first," Rogue told him. "Ah was jus' so confused, an' Ah couldn't even begin t' sort out all o' mah feelin's an' all o' mah thoughts. Ah was terrified that Ah was gonna end up jus' like her because Ah was her daughter, ya know?"

Pietro nodded slightly. "What changed your mind?"

"Talked t' Gambit," Rogue replied.

Pietro winced, and Rogue frowned worriedly. She narrowed her green eyes to study him in the moment of silence that fell over them, curious as to why that name would provoke such a reaction from him.

Pietro, noticing her watching him, sighed. "Sorry," he said quietly. "It's just..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't like it, that's all."

"Don't like what?" Rogue asked.

"Him," Pietro answered dully, avoiding her gaze. "You. Him and you, together."

"Oh," Rogue said softly.

Pietro shifted uneasily. "It's not like we were ever...I mean, you and I could never have been..."

"Why couldn't we have?" Rogue asked quietly.

Pietro sighed, shaking his head. "You and I both know the answer to that question, Roguey. We've known the answer since we first met. My allegiance has always been entirely to my father, we both had emotional bagagge, I can be a conceited jerk, you can be a complete bitch. And on top of all that, you couldn't touch. There was no reason to hope you ever would be able to, no matter how nice that would have been. Then you joined the X-men, and we became enemies."

"Ah never considered ya mah enemy, Pietro," Rogue said gently. "Jus' a rival."

Pietro raised his head so their eyes met, and for a moment Rogue felt like she was fifteen all over again, coming down the stairs of the Brotherhood house, grumbling about being dragged out of her room to meet the new teammate, only to stop suddenly and find herself staring into a pair of sapphire blue eyes so intense she could see the raging storm of pain behind them.

From that very moment, there had been something between the two of them, something unspoken and discreet, but something solid and real. Who knew what might have become of it if they'd ever acted on it, but they hadn't. For all the reasons Pietro had just named, and then some, they had both just sort of pushed it aside and left it alone, pretending not to notice it.

What is it with you and guys, and the whole looking into their eyes thing? Carol asked dryly.

Rogue didn't even bother to reply as she pulled up her mental shields, blocking the other girl out before she could say anything else. She bit her lip, uncertain what to say. She cared for Pietro a great deal, she always had, she probably always would. Whenever she looked at him, her heart still fluttered a bit.

But whatever she'd felt for him in the past, whatever she might have still felt for him now, was child's play compared to what she felt for Remy LeBeau.

"He really cares about you," Pietro said quietly. "At first I thought it was all a game, just another one of his conquests or something." He gave her a sideways glance, as if to see if she reacted to that. But she didn't, she knew about Remy's past, after all, even the girls in his past. She'd gotten a private screening of his memories that night he'd kissed her on the beach. "But it's not. He genuinely cares about you."

Rogue smiled faintly. "Ah know. Ah've seen in t' his head."

Pietro nodded absently. "Figured it was only a matter of time before he decided to take the chance and kiss you anyway." He gave her a rueful smile. "I was never brave enough to take that risk, I guess."

Something told Rogue he was talking about more than just her powers. "Remy likes t' live dangerously," she replied.

Pietro gave a snort of agreement with that fact. "Yeah, he does. But it's more than that this time. It's more than a game with you." He glanced at her, his blue eyes dull. "He's in love with you."

Though Rogue had surmised as much from Remy's recent actions, and from absorbing him during their kiss, hearing it out loud, hearing someone else say it, made her breath catch in her throat. "What makes ya say that?" she asked, her voice coming out much too breathless for her liking.

Pietro gave her a look. "Kind of hard not to notice, you know? The way he looks at you, I'd have to be blind not to see it." He turned his head. "And you're in love with him, too."

Rogue swallowed hard. "Pietro, Ah-"

"You don't have to say anything," Pietro said, shaking his head. "I've never seen you look at anyone the way you look at him. Not even Summers. That tells me all I need to know." He favored her with a weak smile. "It's good to see you happy, even if it is with him."

"Is this the part where ya make that infamous 'Oath' you boys make?" Rogue asked dryly, but her eyes were watering, her throat was tight with emotion.

"That was the plan," Pietro confirmed with a dry laugh. "Had a whole speech worked out, too. I was going to vow wherever you were, whatever trouble you might find yourself in, all you had to do was call and I'd come running to your side."

"An' would ya have meant it?" Rogue asked quietly.

Pietro nodded. "Every syllable."

"Ya asked me a few days back," Rogue said softly. "If we were still friends. Do ya remember that?"

"Yeah."

"The answer is no," Rogue said, and had to force herself not to smile at his crestfallen expression. "We're much more than that," she finished. When he turned to look at her, she raised a bare hand to his cheek. He didn't flinch or pull back as she stroked his cheek. "Ya don't seem surprised Ah ain't absorbin' ya," she observed.

"Knew about the bracelet," Pietro explained neutrally.

Rogue nodded. "Ah thought ya might." She ran her fingers over his cheeks and his forehead, savoring the feel of his skin against hers. She leaned in close to him, her eyes boring into his. "Ah'm gonna make ya a vow, too, Pietro. A vow that Ah'm gonna trust ya. That Ah'm gonna have faith in ya. That no matter what happens, no matter what side ya may be fightin' fo', no matter how bad things may appear, Ah'll believe in ya. Ya jus' gotta do one li'l thing fo' me."

"What's that?" Pietro asked.

"Ya gotta stop lettin' ya father run ya life fo' ya," Rogue told him. "Ah think he does care about ya, Pietro, an' if he does, that won't change just because ya stand up t' him. If anythin', he might jus' respect ya fo' it. An' if he don't, well, ya seem so sure that he don't care anyway, so what difference will it make?"

"I can't turn on him," Pietro insisted softly. "He's my father."

"Ah ain't askin' ya t'," Rogue replied. "All Ah'm askin', Pietro...All Ah'm askin' is that ya don't let y'self turn in t' him. Don't let him make ya become that ruthless. If ya think he's right, if ya believe in his dream, then stay. Ah won't think any less o' ya. But don't ya go lettin' his ideals be decidin' ya own."

Pietro bit his lip, staring down at the ground below for a long moment in silence. Rogue had half a mind to turn off her bracelet and touch him, just to find out what he was thinking. She didn't, though, and merely waited patiently while he sorted through his internal dilemma.

"I can't promise that I won't stick by him," Pietro said at last, raising his face to hers. "That I won't fight for his cause, for him. But I won't let him decide who I am. I'll do what I feel is right, no more, no less."

Rogue tilted her head up and pressed her lips to his in a long, but simple, chaste kiss. She felt him stiffen in surprise, knew he wanted to kiss her back, but he restrained himself. When she pulled back, he blinked at her in shock.

"What was that for?" he asked.

Rogue squeezed his hand in hers and flashed him a tender smile. "For being the man Ah always knew ya could be."

For the first, and probably last, time in history, Pietro Maximoff was speechless.