WARNING: The following episode contains a scene of mature sexual nature. Reader Discretion is advised.
AN: This is the biggest episode this season! There are so many secrets, plot twists and turns…I do not advise eating before you get on this roller-coaster of an episode!
Up until now, X-Men has been developing the characters over plot, so nothing really spectacular has happened. That all changes now! Now that we've fairly established our characters, we can start to focus more on the endgame for this season and my plans for next! This episode is 14,000 words, so it's going to be quite a read! I've split it into two parts but you're still going to have to work through it though, because it is totally worth the read to the very end! Please leave a review if you enjoy the series! If you like the series and want to know more, check out my profile for episode synopsis, titles, and previews! For more exclusive previews and round-the-clock updates, follow me on Twitter (link on profile)!
Previously on X-Men:
"What of our other project?" Kelly asked.
"The Sentinel is a long and tedious project never before attempted, Mr. Vice President. I have word it will be ready by April." Trask replied.
"I hope it's not too much to ask if I re-join the X-Men?"
"No! Of course not!" Charles replied. "You are always welcome here, Lorna. Although, I did believe you had left with Erik."
"I did." She replied. "After that horrible attack on the rally, though…"
Trash cans exploded, mutants swarmed from a purple portal, throwing flames and destructive waves of energy at protestors.
"I changed my mind."
Standing above Kitty was a towering hunk of handsome. His chest, his arms, even his neck were muscular. His eyes were this bright blue that betrayed a sense of innocence within the man. His jet-black hair was messy, hanging around his face. Kitty caught her breath, not out of fear, but out of...something else.
"Hello." she breathed.
"Are you Kitty Pryde?"
"Yes." Kitty replied dreamily.
"I'm Piotr Rasputin." He greeted.
"No! Kitty! Watch out!" Piotr yelled again. Kitty turned and banged her head into a metal pole and fell to the ground, dazed. The pole was attached to some scaffolding, and when Kitty hit it, she shook it just enough for the whole scaffolding to start to fall down.
"Ah!" she exclaimed, holding up her arm to brace the impact and phased.
Nothing fell on her though. She looked up to see Piotr...but not Piotr. The thing standing above her still looked like Piotr, same size, same build, but his skin had changed to a silvery metal, as if someone had painted him with steel.
"You're a mutant too?" he asked.
"Yeah!" Kitty exclaimed. "This is, like, so cool!" she exclaimed.
Kitty opened her mouth to say something, but he put a single finger under her chin and brought her face up to his, gently, softly kissing her.
Rain started to fall down over the two. They gently broke apart and Piotr opened his door, gesturing for her to come inside as the rain fell harder. The door shut silently, yellow light, obscured only by the motion of the two lovers, shined through the windows. All was well.
"Rogue has allowed the escape of a dangerous mutant, has splintered her partnership with X-23, is a teenager who has too many emotions going through her head, and believes too strongly in her religion and morals. She is failing us at a steadily increasing rate." Trask said. "Kill her."
Rogue sliced with her knifes, taking down three soldiers, turning and firing a shot at a fourth, downing him as well, before stabbing a fifth soldier in the chest with her knife.
"I'm sorry, Professor," Lorna said. "I don't know who she is and I didn't want to let her in in case—"
Charles stopped at the door in stunned silence. She smiled awkwardly.
"No, no," Charles said distantly. "It's alright, Lorna."
He turned to the visitor. "Welcome home, Rogue."
-
Washington, D.C.
January 13, 09:08 EST
Three Weeks Later
-
Vice President Robert Kelly pushed his wiry, brown hair to the side and adjusted the horn-rimmed glasses covering his icy blue eyes. He was sitting behind his handsome redwood desk looking at paperwork. The public hadn't bought a single thing he had sold until Magneto's attack on the Christmas rally. Now they were flooding him with requests to ban mutants completely, to have them register, have some injected with trackers. Some, more to Kelly's tastes, would see this species eradicated from the face of the Earth. Government scientists were using the anti-mutant frenzy to request a complete dissection of mutants in order to learn how to prevent their powers from forming, or find a way to give them to humans.
One of the many science labs clamoring for grants to research the X-gene was Worthington Labs. Headed by Warren Worthington II, Worthington Labs was a small lab working on techniques to improve gene-therapy. More importantly, they were family friends with Robert Kelly. Kelly's father and Worthington's father had been good friends, and had remained so even after Kelly went to politics and Worthington to science.
Kelly had scheduled a meeting with Worthington. He and Worthington were more associates than friends, but they both had a sense of responsibility to each other and both were strongly anti-mutant. Kelly hoped to give a grant to Worthington and allow him access to the Sentinel Project's cache of mutants for research.
A knock came at his door and Kelly's secretary leaned in. "Sir, Mr. Worthington is here to see you."
"Ah, yes." Kelly said. "Bring him in."
Kelly's secretary disappeared outside of the door and reappeared a moment later with Warren Worthington.
Worthington was an aging man. He looked as old as he was, but in a different way from Kelly. Whereas Kelly looked small, harsh, and tired, his body worn to the bone, Worthington looked more like a fruit that was overripe. Worthington was overweight, not enough to be called fat, but enough that it was noticeable. He was several inches shorter than Kelly. He had white hair and a soft, round face. He seemed kinder than Kelly, who appeared like a harsh old man who scolded anyone who looked at him sideways. Worthington's eyes were soft and warm, Kelly's blue-grey were cold and strict, unforgiving almost. Worthington had plenty of wrinkles, but they were happy wrinkles. Anyone who looked at him could tell he had lived a happy life, that he was a happy man, and would most likely die as one.
Worthington was wearing a traditional suit with a tan jacket over it and leather gloves. He smiled as he entered the room and shook Kelly's hand, sitting down.
"It's good to see you again, Warren." Kelly said, sitting behind his desk. "Will your son be joining us today?"
"I'm afraid not." Worthington replied with a smile. "He went out partying late last night and hasn't—ahh—returned any of my phone calls."
Kelly returned the smile. "It seems he enjoys life just as much as his father."
Worthington nodded.
-
Xavier Institute
January 14, 8:23 EST
-
Rogue had been given her old room back. After Erik's separation from the Institute, most of the rooms had become vacant. While Xavier liked to require his students to have a roommate, he made an exception for Rogue. Xavier was the one of only three people in the world who knew a large majority of Rogue; he knew so many of her secrets, her whole life story. This understanding came with a price, however, as Xavier was constantly worrying what part of Rogue's life would eventually come back to haunt her.
This came with plusses for Rogue. She got an entire room to herself that she could decorate and fill however she wanted. She had complete privacy from anyone else in the mansion, and she could apply special…modifications to her room without someone sticking their nose in and asking what she was doing.
Rogue had not only made her room soundproof, she had made it resistant to telepathic invasions by someone like Xavier, Emma, or Jean. Water was a telepathic barrier, Rogue had found, so she put fountains in each corner of her room. They were nothing big, taking up a small nightstand's worth of room at most, but they worked. Rogue had also installed tripwires and motion detectors near her windows and a security system near her door that would taze anyone who walked in without turning it off.
Function did not mean, by any means however, that there could be no form to the room. Rogue had decorated her room with paintings, bookshelves, a large bed with plush green sheets and a hand-made quilt Xavier had held on to for her. The quilt was multi-colored and made of overlapping squares. It had been stitched by Rogue's grandmother and it reminded her of home. To anyone who managed to get in the room without the traps killing them or rendering them unconscious, would think that this was just the room of a normal young woman. There was one exception: Rogue had no photos in her room. It was completely devoid of any personal items other than the aesthetic ones previously mentioned.
Rogue herself was already awake. She had been awake for about an hour now, and had already completed her morning exercises. She had spent some time on her laptop, getting caught up to current events and the morning's headlines. For the first time in a long time, she had also spent time catching up on current events that would not appear from a typical Google search.
Today was the first day of the new term at the Xavier Institute. All of the students who had been on Christmas vacation were back. Rogue, although in full control of her powers and a legal adult, would still attend a few training sessions to get back into the groove of things before deciding with Professor Xavier what to do. She hated feeling useless, but she wasn't quite sure where she fit in at the Institute.
Xavier had planned her official welcome to the X-Men for after breakfast. He had asked to meet with her after she was introduced to the rest of the mutants, why she had no clue, but it must be something big.
Rogue had picked her outfit out off of a whim. Jeans and a dark-blue turtleneck. She felt like it needed something else, but she wasn't sure what. Now here she was digging through that hidden box underneath her floorboards looking for some relic to throw on. She pulled out a scarf and looked at it. The scarf was middle-eastern in origin, tan with pieces of lapis lazuli sewn into it. While most of the scarf was see-through, opaque white letters decorated it in a foreign language. Rogue could read it and smiled gently as she did. For some reason she felt like this was appropriate to wear today. Rogue had learned to go with her gut feelings. She tossed it around her neck, closed the box, slid it back under the floorboards, and replaced the edge of the rug back over it, standing up, brushing her hands.
Rogue exited her room, on the fourth story of the Institute, and descended a flight of stairs to the main dining room. Most of the students were already down there. The ice-kid was scoffing down waffles and the Brazilian with fire powers (Magma, Rogue believed she called herself) was teasing the ice-kid by heating up his waffles to the point where they burned his mouth. Jean and Scott, apparently now engaged, sat near Xavier. Emma and a green-haired girl sat opposite of them. Rogue waved as she descended and, spotting Cassidy, took a seat next to her, winking. Cassidy smiled and offered her a sausage, which Rogue took with a smile and ate. In the short time Rogue had been there, she had developed a close relationship to Cassidy, almost motherly.
"I love your scarf, Rogue!" Emma exclaimed. "Wherever did you get it?"
"It was a gift from a friend." Rogue replied, touching it gently.
Charles glanced at her and raised an amused eyebrow silently before returning to his food.
"Well I think it goes lovely with your hair." Emma said.
Rogue smiled. Ironic, that comment…
"Yeah, Rogue, I like what you've done with your hair!" Jean said from the other end of the table.
"Thanks," Rogue replied.
"She was like that when I met her." The ice-kid said through a mouthful of waffles. Magma giggled in spite of herself.
Because Rogue had checked in on many mutants during her time with the Sentinel Project, many of the new arrivals knew her face. To cover for her involvement with the Project, Xavier had fabricated the story that she was someone actively recruiting mutants for the Institute. Not an entire lie, but not the entire truth either.
"Hey!" Magma called. "Where's Kitty and Rahne?"
"Rahne's upstairs sleeping in." Jean replied. "Kitty said she'd be back this morning, but called last night to say she had missed her train."
"I hope she makes it!" Magma replied.
"I'm sure she will." Xavier replied. He threw an unnoticed, and cautious glance at Rogue.
"It looks like we're going to have to go on without Kitty," Charles said. "First off, I'd like everyone to meet Mar—"
A young girl ran right through the wall at that moment, her luggage toppling her to the ground. She was small, with brown hair and vibrant light blue eyes. Rogue thought she looked familiar, but couldn't place the face.
"Kitty," Charles said. "It's good to see you again! I hope you enjoyed your holidays."
"I did! Danielle was—ungh!—awesome!" Kitty tried to lift the luggage with both hands, but it refused to budge. "I've never had Christmas in the—grr—canyons. It was pretty cool!"
Rogue smirked. "Would ya like some help?" she asked.
"Nah, leave it! What are we all gathered for here? Who are you?" Kitty asked, giving up on the suitcase.
"We were just getting to that." Charles said. "This is Mar—"
"Rogue" the Belle interrupted.
"Rogue." Charles corrected with a smile. "She can absorb memories and abilities through skin contact as well as being able to render you unconscious, should she chose to."
"Shouldn't you be wearing gloves?" Kitty replied. "No offense…"
Rogue laughed. "I have it completely under control." To showcase this, she reached over and set her hand on Charles'. Nothing happened.
"Phew, okay." Kitty said.
"Rogue, this is Amara Aquilla, also known as Magma." Amara waved.
"Bobby Drake, otherwise known as Ice-Man"
"Lorna Dane, otherwise known as Polaris."
"Sandy Cassidy, otherwise known as Banshee."
"Good name," Rogue winked at her.
"You know Scott and Jean, Kurt Wogner, Emma Frost, and myself. Rahne Sinclair is still upstairs. She's a lycanthropic."
Bobby smiled and took a step forward in an effort to impress Rogue. "That's someone—"
"Who transforms into a wolf." Rogue completed. Bobby looked a little shocked and backed up to an annoyed Amara.
Xavier wheeled himself a little further out and turned to Rogue. "And this is Shadowcat, normally known as…Kitty Pryde."
Xavier watched Rogue's features intently as he introduced the final member of the X-Men. An almost unseen emotion flashed across it and Rogue shook Kitty's hand. "It's nice t' meet ya, Kitty." Rogue said. She turned to Xavier with a pointed look only the two of them understood.
"Yes, I'm sorry to cut this meet-and-greet short," Charles said. "But Rogue has a mission to attend to."
"Already?" Bobby exclaimed. "She's been here, like, a week and she gets to go on missions?!"
"I was an X-Man 'fore you broke out!" Rogue reminded him, a little less in her smile now. "Anyway, it was nice meeting y'all!" She glanced over them again, half a second longer on Kitty, then followed Charles into an adjacent room and locked the door behind her.
"Seal the room." Charles ordered to seemingly nothing. A slight hum, then a metallic voice replied back "Room secure."
Rogue rounded on Charles, her red hair swirling with her. "Kitty Pryde, as in pride with a y? As in McKenna Pryde?"
"Her sister." Charles confirmed.
Rogue just looked at him for a minute before quietly asking: "Does she know?"
"No," Charles said. "You know how good I am at keeping secrets, Rogue. I was hoping you would tell her, though."
"I can't tell 'er that!" Rogue exclaimed. "She can never know about her sister, she can never know about me, and she can never know the truth!"
"Rogue—"
"Charles." Rogue interrupted. "I said no."
Charles sighed and nodded. "It is your secret, Rogue. I will not tell it for you."
Rogue nodded and stood up. "Now who's this mutant I'm s'ppos' t' be lookin' for? I know you weren't lyin' 'bout that."
"As astute as ever. We don't know his name. We only have a fuzzy security picture from a Choctaw casino." Charles said, opening a file sitting on the table.
"Choctaw?" Rogue asked, looking at the file.
"More specifically, an installment in New Orleans. It's not quite home, but I think you'll enjoy it."
-
X-Men: Standing Guard
Season 1, Episode Nine
"Secrets"
-
Rogue packed considerably less than she did when escaping from the Project, and considerably more than she had for a mission in a long time. She packed two knives, one up each wrist, and a gun tucked into her waistline. Xavier was well aware Rogue carried such a weapons, as much as his distaste for them was, and thus pretended not to know.
Rogue was wearing a loose-fitting black shirt that had no back and only one strap. It was more of a full body swimsuit than a shirt. She wore a black motorcycle jacket over this and had kept the scarf wrapped around her neck. She hadn't packed much for this trip, just weapons and some cash.
Emma made Rogue want to burst out laughing. She was wearing a white designer sweater over her designer jeans. She wore white snow boots and white fur gloves. She had a nice, white, fur jacket on and a cozy hat. Her makeup was done perfectly and she wore a silver necklace with a diamond in the middle. She was entirely too perfect to be heading to the Crescent City.
"Ya do realize where we're goin', right?" Rogue asked, hauling a backpack onto the Blackbird.
"New Orleans, Charles told me." Emma said, adjusting her hat. "It has been so long since I went on a recruiting mission! This is going to be so much fun!"
Rogue glanced at her sideways. "Yo're goin' in that?"
"What's wrong with it?"
"Honey, three things are gonna happen to ya down there if ya wear that; one, yo're gonna get a lot of attention from people who's attent'n ya don't want. Two, ya gonna get mugged. Three, I'm gonna make you stay on the Blackbird."
"What, Rogue?" Emma asked tauntingly. "Are you afraid I'm going to attract more eyes than you?"
Rogue snorted. "I'd rather they be lookin' at you than me." She said. "Anyway, it's time t' go!"
"Are you sure you remember how to pilot this thing?" Forge asked nervously.
"Relax, Forge," Rogue said. "It can't be that difficult! If I crash it, that's what you've got that fancy arm of yo'rs for." She added, placing her hand on his metallic one.
"That is not funny." Forge grumbled.
"Tell Charles thanks for lettin' us use it too," Rogue said, pressing a button and raising the ramp.
"Yeah, thanks." Forge grumbled. "That's what I'll tell him."
Rogue smirked and climbed into the cockpit to see Emma sitting in the pilot's seat.
"Ahem."
"What?" Emma asked.
"Move." Rogue ordered, gesturing with her thumb to the co-pilot's seat. Emma moved.
"This is Blackbird to Flight Control, all systems are ready for take-off." Rogue said, sliding her headset on.
"Roger, Blackbird. You are clear for take off." Forge's voice came over the radio. "If you put one scratch on my baby, your head will be glued to the front as a warning to others." He added.
"Relax, hernando." Rogue replied. She pulled the handle up and the Blackbird rose out of the basketball court, lifting into the air before flying away.
The students buzzed as they watched the spectacle. Some, like Bobby, leaned from excitement to annoying chatter. Charles let them talk for a moment before calling out "Alright, everyone! Danger Room training session with Storm! Now!"
The mutants grumbled, but moved off. All of them except Lorna.
"Can I help you, Lorna?" Charles asked, glancing at the emerald mutant.
"I would like to talk to you in private." Lorna said. "About…Magneto."
"Absolutely." Charles replied. "This way."
-
New York City
January 14, 9:45 EST
-
Kitty got out of the taxi, paid the driver, and jogged over to the restaurant. She was dressed in dark blue dress pants and a lighter blue shirt. It was loose fitting and hung over her shoulders, but was just tight enough around her mid-section that it teased. She was tucked into a dark trench-coat at the moment, huddling from the cold as she darted inside the restaraunt.
Piotr was waiting for her inside. He was dressed in a bright red polo shirt. He greeted her with a hug and a kiss on her lips. She smirked and let him pull her coat off. He looked her over. "You look amazing, Kitty."
"Don't I always?" she asked.
He laughed and kissed her again. "As beautiful as ever." He whispered to her.
She smiled and forced him to hold the kiss for a second longer than they probably should have, then they broke apart, a smile on each of their faces.
-
Private Offices of Charles Xavier
Xavier Institute
January 14, 9:08 EST
-
Professor Charles Xavier's office was small and decorated like that of his profession. There was a wall of book shelves behind his desk, itself made of dark and magnificent wood. There was a computer on one side of his desk and some neat papers on the other. A black mat with built in technology sat on the immediate center of his desk. The ceiling was white and the floor made of shaggy, dark green carpet. Pictures of himself, Erik, and many other people decorated the walls. Charles rolled around behind his desk and gestured for Lorna to take one of the magnificent and rather comfortable chairs in front of his desk. They were made of the same beautiful wood as his desk and the cushions were the same color as the carpet. Lorna sat down and brushed her hair behind her ear nervously.
"Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about, Lorna?" Charles asked, folding his hands on the table and looking at her kindly, yet intently.
"I—I wanted to know something." Lorna said.
"Yes?"
Lorna hesitated, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly before finally raising her hand and creating a paper-clip chain that was at least a foot long with a gesture of her finger. Charles raised his eyebrows. "That's very impressive, Lorna. Your powers have come very far since you were here."
"Magneto trained me." Lorna said.
Charles moved slightly in his chair. It may have been a simple cramp, but Lorna wasn't so sure.
"When I first noticed he and I had the same power, you said that it is possible, albeit rare, for a mutant to possess the same powers as another mutant."
"Yes," Charles said, unsure of where she was going with this.
"At the time I was only twelve, but now I'm almost seventeen. I deserve to know the truth." She said it as fierce as she could, but it was obvious she was nervous.
"The truth?" Charles asked.
Lorna took a deep and shaky breath. She closed her eyes and asked "Is Magneto my father?"
Charles leaned back in his chair and she looked at him intently. "I can not tell you that, Lorna. We do not know who your father is. It could have been Erik, it could not have—"
"I said the truth!" Lorna exclaimed, slamming her fist on the table. The paperclips rose around her, orbiting like little daggers. Charles unfolded his hand and gripped his wheelchair, eyeing her fist steadily.
"Lorna, we talked about your anger." Charles said, softer. "You must control it."
Lorna dropped the paper clips and stood up. "I—I'm sorry. I—I don't know what came over me."
"It's okay, Lorna." Charles said, putting a hand on hers.
"I'm just so tired of being lied to."
"Lorna, we can't know for sure if Erik is your father."
"Don't you find it suspicious that he and I have the exact same power?"
"Not particularly." Charles replied, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap again. "Jean, Emma, and I are all telepaths. We are not related."
"Jean has telekinesis, too. Emma can transform into a diamond. You can not only read minds and communicate with them, but tell them what to do! Why don't I have another power?"
"It may not have developed yet, Lorna." Charles said. "Emma only developed telepathy in her early twenties."
"I thought she was in her early twenties." Lorna said, a confused look on her face.
"That's what she wants you to think." Charles said lowly, a hint of humor in his voice. "It took me many years to develop my ability to control minds, fifty years to be more precise."
Lorna looked at her hands.
"If it puts you at peace, Lorna, Erik never had green hair." Charles leaned back again and mused. "Except that one time when—"
"That's part of the mutation!" Lorna exclaimed.
"Regardless, all you are doing is worrying yourself. I don't see what concern you have with being Magneto's daughter."
"Like father, like daughter." Lorna whispered. "Isn't that the saying?"
"It is." Charles said. "Lorna, you can not rely on someone else to forge your destiny for you. You must forge your own destiny. You may be haunted by your past, you may be haunted by what you do or do not know, but your path is yours and only you may travel it, only you may choose where it paves. No one else."
"Besides," Charles said. "There is no way to prove if Erik is your father."
"You could test my DNA!" Lorna said, looking up.
"What?"
"Test my DNA, see if it matches Magneto's."
Charles looked at her.
"Please?"
Charles took a deep breath. "Lorna—"
"Professor," Jean said, opening the door. She glanced at Lorna. "Oh, I'm sorry. If I'm interrupting, I can come back in a minute."
"No, no, Jean." Charles replied. "We were done." He looked over at Lorna. "I am not going to subject your blood to a DNA test. Consider this a test. You must learn to overcome what you do not know for you to move on in your life. You will not always have the answer, nor will you always be able to get it. Once you have mastered this section of your life, then I will see if Erik is your father."
Lorna sighed and remained in her chair.
"Please join the others in the Danger Room." Charles said. He rolled out of the room with Jean and closed the door behind him. Lorna sat in her chair, emotions in her head spinning like a gameshow wheel before finally landing on anger. Her arms lit in green flames. They shot from her eyes and she picked up the paperclips, slamming them into the doorway with such fury they shot all the way through and across the hall. Lorna was breathing heavily, her flaming fists clenched. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, the flames subsiding.
"You still haven't told her?" Jean asked. "Don't you think she deserves to know now? I mean she is old enough…"
"It is not a matter of age, Jean." Charles said. "It is a matter of maturity. Lorna's anger still gets the best of her and she is very dangerous when she gets that way. She is also very immature for her age; not in a bad way, mind you, but in a childlike state. She is not ready to accept the real world for what it is and if she were, she could very possibly cause much damage to it. She is not ready. When she is, I will tell her. I managed you well enough, didn't I?"
Jean paused in the hallway. "It slipped out." She said blankly.
"What?" Charles asked.
"The Phoenix." She whispered, tears brimming in her emerald eyes. "It came out in Scotland, when the village attacked Rahne. They killed her father and they were going to kill her while she held him. I—I don't know what happened. All I know is one of them shot me, the next thing I know, they're all running back to the village, screaming about demons and flying ash clouds."
"You said you don't remember anything?" Charles asked, concerned.
"I never do." Jean replied, wiping the tears from her face, sucking in air to calm herself. "Professor, I need you to read my mind. I need to know if I hurt anyone."
"I will not do that to you, Jean. You've been three years without an incident."
"That we know of."
"The emotional struggle of what was going on, your overwhelming desire to protect the innocent, it is one of your greatest strengths, but also your greatest weakness. I am sure that is what caused the Phoenix to surge forth. What did Scott say?"
Jean looked at him guiltily.
"Jean," he said, disappointed. "He deserves to know."
"What? That he's marrying a murderer and a time-bomb?"
"You are not a murderer and you are not a time-bomb. We will find out what the Phoenix is and we will get it out. You are marrying this man, Jean. A relationship built on secrets will not last, you must tell him."
"What if he hates me for it?" Jean asked. "I can't lose him, Professor!"
"You won't lose him." Charles consoled, grabbing Jean's hand. "Scott loves you dearly, more than his own life. This may be…difficult for him to accept, but he will accept it; he will not hate you for it either, he is your husband and he will help you through it, Jean. You just have to trust him."
Jean nodded, trying not to cry.
"I'd like to start up sessions again, Professor." She said, trying to be strong.
"Which ones?" Charles asked lowly.
"Communication."
"Not suppression?"
"No, the last time we did that, we blew up the lab. If we can talk to it, figure out what it is, what it wants, then maybe we can figure out how to control it, maybe even remove it!"
Charles frowned. "I will see, Jean. We will need a secure location, not in the X-Mansion, to do this. Also, I refuse to do these sessions with you until you have told Scott."
Jean nodded and sighed. "Go check on Rahne though, please. She's still having nightmares."
"Have you made any progress with her?"
"No, professor. She's a very stubborn girl and refuses to let go of this. I'm trying but I don't think I'm the best qualified to help her at this point."
Charles nodded. "Let me see what I can do, you just worry about talking to Scott."
-
Outside New Orleans, Lousiana
January 14, 17:09 CDT
-
Rogue had left the Blackbird in the care of "a friend". The dark jet was tucked away in his shop. He had been warned not to touch it. Rogue had informed him of several anti-tampering devices that could render him…inert. He assured her nothing would happen to it.
Rogue and Emma were leaving through the marsh lands, heading straight for New Orleans. Emma was completely disgusted with the conditions of the "horrid landscape". Her boots were muddy and some had splashed onto her pants. Rogue seemed at home, however, and was taking much amusement from her co-worker's suffering.
The light was beginning to fade on the horizon, the sky turning dark blue, the purple remnants of clouds illuminated only by the fading sunshine and the approaching moonlight. The grass was tall, almost a foot and a half. It brushed against the girls' legs. Cattail clumps were spotted here and there. The water was dark and shallow. Emma could hear the squish every time her foot came in contact with the ground.
"This is disgusting." She muttered.
"It's wonderful." Rogue replied, almost distant, as she took in the sky, the humidity in the air, the wind, and the feel of the earth beneath her boot.
Something slithered in the grass and Emma jumped. She pointed her flashlight at it. "What was that?"
"Turn that damn thing off 'fore you get yo'rself killed." Rogue scolded, continuing walking as if it were nothing. "It's just a snake. Maybe a cottonmouth, so be careful."
"Cotton-mouth?" Emma asked.
"Water-Mocassin." Rogue replied. "Very poisonous. They got a white mouth. If you see one, I recommend turning into ya diamond form."
"Noted." Emma said, cautiously.
"Let's keep goin'." Rogue said. "We're almost to a car. We wanna get into the city 'fore the real nasties come out."
"Like what?" Emma asked nervously, glancing at every blade of grass blown by the gentle wind.
"Well, if yo're a realist, then we're talkin' 'bout crocs, alligators, some big ol' snakes, and a few other creatures."
"If we're not?" Emma asked, perhaps more nervous than before.
Rogue smirked, but continued walking, her back to Emma. "Well den we talkin' bout the spirits."
"Spirits?"
"Oh yeah, lots o' people died out here in the swamps." Rogue said. "In fact, this is the Wooley Swamp."
"The Wooley Swamp?" Emma asked.
Rogue stopped and stared at her. "You ain't never heard of the Wooley Swamp?"
"No, what is it?" Emma asked.
Rogue turned and pointed to an old house about a hundred yards away. "See that house?"
"Yeah,"
"That's Lucius Clay's house, or at least…it was."
"Was?"
"'till bout fifty years ago." Rogue replied. She turned back and continued walking. "Lucius Clay was an old man. He was an outcast and never did do much in this world, either good or bad. He was a greedy old man and a rich one, too. He had nothin' to do with nobody, and lived out here all alone."
"He kept all of his money tucked down in mason jars, which he buried in his backyard. Some nights, he'd go out and dig up all of the jars, go back in his house and spread all of his money on the floor of his shack. He'd run his fingers through it and touch it, taste it, feel it, 'til morning. Then, under the darkness of dawn, he'd stuff it all back down in the jars and bury it again."
"Now the Crayton boys were white trash. They, too, were rich, and all of 'em spoiled rotten. One night, the oldest said to his brothers "Y'all meet me in the Wooleh Swamp later, we'll beat that ol' man Lucius Craig and feed 'im to the alligators."
"So they all went down into the swamp and met in the woods, right here just 'bout actually," Rogue said. Emma looked at the ground as if it were covered in blood and moved a little closer to Rogue. "So they waited 'til Lucius came out'f the house and dug up the jars. When he had dug 'em up and was headin' back to the house, the boys jumped 'im, and beat 'im. They beat 'im bad, too. That poor man couldn't do anything to defend himself."
"When he was helpless, they picked 'im up and tossed 'im into the swamp outside the back of his hut, laughin' as the black waters sucked 'im down under. They turned around to go get that moneh, but realized they were in quick sand. They struggled and they screamed, but they couldn't get out. Just 'fore they went under, they could hear that ol' man laughin', in a voice as loud as thunder!"
Emma let out a little "eep!" as Rogue spoke this last part as if her own voice was the old man's. She smirked as Emma grabbed at her arm. She shook her off and finished the story.
"That was fifty years ago, on the night of a full moon." Emma looked at the moon, it was full too. "They say if yo're close 'nough, you'll see a spot where the ground is always wet. If you get close enough, you'll hear three boys screamin'…"
"…and one ol' man laughin'!" Rogue laughed herself, the wind carrying her voice. Somewhere in the distance it turned older, more evil. Emma was very nervous right now.
"Well, I suggest we keep far away from that house." She said. "What about over here?" She pointed to a dry path.
Rogue shivered and shook her head no. "You crazy? That's the path of Huron."
"Who?"
"Are you sure you want to know?" Rogue asked.
"Not really…"
"Huron was an Indian chief." Rogue started. She ducked under a piece of Spanish moss hanging from the tree and disappeared into darkness. "He loved to hunt down "white women" as he called them and cut their hearts out. No one knows what he did with them, but he made sure everyone around could hear their screams. He did it to them while they were alive. He still does it, to the few unlucky souls who—mmph!"
Rogue disappeared, making sounds of struggle before becoming silent.
"Rogue?" Emma asked nervously, quietly. "Rogue?"
Rogue laughed quietly and turned around the tree, pushing a tree branch onto Emma's shoulders and tapping her with it. Emma spun and turned into diamond form, turning the corner of the tree. Nothing was there.
Another branch tapped her from behind and she squealed, spinning to face the spirit. Nothing was there. Rogue snuck up behind the wary blonde and yelled.
"YAAAAAH!"
"AHHH!"
Emma yelled something in surprise and fell back into the mud. Rogue burst out laughing.
"Rogue!" Emma exclaimed.
"You—you should see—you should see the look—the look on—on—on your face!" Rogue gasped out between laughs.
"That was not funny!"
"No, no, you're right. It wasn't funny." Rogue said, coming to a stop. "It was frieckin' hilarious!" Rogue burst into a fresh batch of laughter.
Emma glared at her and stood up, trying to wipe the mud off of herself. Somewhere in the distance came some high-pitch laughing. Emma looked at Rogue who stopped laughing immediately.
"Okay, time to go." Rogue said, darting forward through the swamp. Emma followed, tripping and stumbling, unused to the terrain. Rogue got further and further away from Emma until she was completely out of sight. Emma called out her name and heard something faintly. Unfortunately, she also heard something behind her, closing fast. Emma yelped and tripped, falling face-first in the dirt. She turned to see yellow eyes leap at her out of the dark. A gunshot rang around the woods. The yellow eyes fell to the side. Three more gunshots for three more pairs of yellow eyes. Emma turned to see Rogue standing there, a pistol in her hand.
"You okay?" Rogue asked, lending her free hand to Emma to help her up. The blonde took it and stumbled behind the Belle.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded.
"I thought it was a witch." Rogue said.
"Rogue!"
"I'm serious! I did! It's just coyotes I think."
"Just coyotes?" Emma demanded.
"Yeah, if we have fire we'll be fine." Rogue replied.
"We don't have fire!"
"Don't be ridiculous." Rogue replied. "Look in my backpack. I've still got a few sizzlers left over from Fourth of July. Grab one and light 'er up."
Emma dug around in Rogue's backpack and pulled out a sizzler. She struck it against a tree and lit it up, the firework sparkling in her hand. She handed one to Rogue, who lit it as well, and the two continued down the path towards their destination, still running. The sizzlers cast light and they scared of the yellow eyes behind them.
Rogue darted ahead of Emma and pulled a camo-blanket off of a jeep, covered in mud and twigs. She hopped in and started the engine. It took a moment for the old car to start, but it did. The headlights lit up and illuminated a few wolves looking at them hungrily. Rogue grabbed Emma's sizzler, much to her annoyance, and tossed it at the wolves. They howled and split. Rogue drove off at high-speed, spewing mud behind them as they made a dash for the frontage road. They were safe.
Rogue turned on the radio and sighed, letting the wind blow through her hair. She slipped the gun into the back of her jeans again.
"Why do you even have a gun?" Emma asked, concerned.
"Just be glad I did." Rogue replied.
-
Xavier Institute
January 14, 22:43 EST
-
Lorna slid out of bed silently and walked across the carpet to her closet. She slid off her pajamas and pulled on her uniform: a dark green sleeveless body-suit with lighter green shoulder-pads, boots, gloves, chest-piece that curved around her chest and stomach, and a mask. The mask curved around her face, keeping her hair back. It curved in a gentle "W" and descended to her lower cheek-bones. Using magnetism, she could lower a second part of her mask that covered the top half of her face and kept her identity secret.
Lorna glanced over at the empty bed where Kitty should be, and darted out of the room silently, levitating herself downstairs, into the elevator, and onto the lower levels. She flew down the hallways to the Dark Room. She slid inside and closed the door before activating the computer console.
"Alright, dad, let's see who you really are."
END PART ONE