Chapter 6

Rogue rose to her feet in the darkness, her gloved hands scrambling against the stone walls. She blinked bitter tears away and searched for the exit. Caves have exits, she whispered in her cluttered mind. Caves always have exits. Unable to control her mutation, she shapeshifted into a faultless clone of Mystique. Instantly, her footsteps became confident, and she inched closer to the hidden door. As she tripped the switch, the door slithered upwards, and she was bathed in bright artificial light.

The real Mystique lay unconscious on the ground, drained of half of her powers and close to death. Fake Mystique stepped over her body and walked into the light. She entered a passageway carved carelessly into the side of a rocky hill, her golden eyes gazing at her surroundings. She paused when she heard voices ahead. Peering through the crack of a second door, she spotted several men hunched over a large map. She peeled her gloves off and dropped them at her feet.

Never one to be shy, Fake Raven pushed the door open. The men turned to her, each of them under the age of thirty and fully radicalised. Friends of Humanity posters plagued the walls and a bullet whizzed past her ear. She smirked and vaulted through the air. As soon as she struck them, her bare hands drained their memories. She whimpered and jolted backwards, unsteady on her feet again.

Tears streamed down Rogue's pale face, and she cycled through the personalities, settling on the physical appearance of David Green. Suddenly, with deadly calm, she walked around his body and gazed down at the map. She noted the familiar streets that surrounded Times Square and knew what they planned.

In the form of Fake David, she reached the next room and coldly attacked another two members of Friends of Humanity. As they dropped unconsciously to the ground, she whimpered again. The voices in her head clouded every thought and she buried her face into her hands. Painfully aware her mind was dangerously cluttered, further tears pooled in her frightened eyes.

A rush of furious footsteps closed in on her, and she gasped, the strongest of the personalities swamping her mind again. As the door flew open, she morphed into Mystique and gazed at the enraged man.

"I won't allow you to destroy my plans," Graydon seethed, barely able to contain his temper when he reached her. "I'm sure he's here too, isn't it?! You had better answer me, I'm not in the mood to play your games. This isn't going to end the way you want it to; the Friends of Humanity will win our fight against your kind."

Fake Raven raised her bare hand towards his face and tenderly brushed a finger through a lock of his dark blonde hair.

He glared down at her, suspicious of her behaviour. "What are you doing?"

"Saving my son from himself," she whispered and pressed her hand against his cheek.

His eyes bulged violently, and his knees soon buckled. He collapsed at her feet, and she breathed a satisfied breath. His memories, thoughts, feelings and hurt flooded into Rogue's mind and she dropped to her knees. She cried bitterly and crawled towards the door, her form violently lurching from one personality to the next.

When she reached the empty hall, the security alarm sounded. She climbed to her unstable feet and gazed around in confusion. Tears escaped her eyes and as she rounded the corner, she collided with Victor Creed.

With an equally confused growl, Victor saw Mystique and grabbed her violently. Her scent failed to track with the woman he knew, and as he touched her bare wrist, he could feel his powers start to drain. He yanked his hand away and landed on his ass.

A shocked Rogue was inwardly beaten with a fresh set of memories but with the use of Victor's powers, she began to heal from her injuries. She fled down the hall to the exit, a growl bleeding from her lips and dozens of tears stained on her face.

"Fuck," Victor groaned, his head woolly and his powers out of whack. He fought his way to his feet and braced a hand on the wall, steadying himself with a snarl. Inhaling the scents that surrounded him, he stalked to the nearby room. As he eyed Graydon on the floor, he walked closer, fully aware of what he was about to do.

Rogue reached the outside and stumbled onto the side of a hill. The moonlight guided her route down the sometimes rocky and unstable path, and she shifted into her normal form when she reached the bottom. Gazing curiously at the figure in front of her, she tearfully approached him.

Loosely juggling a set of two rocks, John ignored for a while. Eventually, he looked at her and laughed. "Have you ever seen the movie Carrie?" With her blood clotted in her hair and smeared across her forehead, Rogue reminded him of the main character of the movie. When he failed to get a word from her, he shrugged and tossed the rocks aside. "I've never been to this part of New York before."

Rogue gazed at him, wary of his intentions. "What did you do, John Allerdyce?"

"You sound like my mom," John answered, laughing again at her disapproval. His amusement soon faded when somebody tapped him roughly on the shoulder. He turned around, greeted by a growl and a heavy punch to the face.

Logan watched him land roughly in the dirt. He lit a cigar; his eyes focused on Rogue. He noted the scent of her blood and the confusion in her eyes. "You did good, kid," he admitted gruffly and led the way back to the jet.

A silent Rogue trailed him slowly, battling the voices in her head. She walked up the ramp and spotted Jean tending to Scott's bullet wound. She sat in a seat and snapped her eyes closed.

After she finished dressing Scott's shoulder injury, Jean calmly crouched beside Rogue and anxiously gazed at the girl. "Can you hear me through the other voices?"

Visibly flinching from Jean's gentle hand on her arm, Rogue accidentally brushed her hand against the redhead's fingers. Jean instantly pulled away and apologised. "I'm sorry, that was my fault," she said and asked the girl to remain as calm as possible. "The Professor's waiting to help you once we land."

Storm sat at the controls, ready to leave and watched Victor board the jet. They glanced at each other as he settled in a seat opposite Rogue. He gave Storm a rough nod to let her know he'd dealt with the issue inside the Friends of Humanity base.

During the journey home, Rogue waded through the fog of new personalities in her mind. Curiosity got the better of her when she discovered Victor's memories by accident. She turned to gaze at him quietly as she tiptoed into his thoughts.

Victor's eyes narrowed the longer she stared his way. He grew uncomfortable with her intense gaze, and he scowled in her direction. She looked too much like Jimmy's mother. Her hair, her cheekbones, even the way she watched him disapprovingly. He growled to himself because he understood the girl had his memories. When she looked away and scrunched her eyes closed, he figured he'd watched her learn the truth about her parentage. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath.

When they arrived safely at the mansion, Rogue was relieved to see the Professor. He calmly sat with her in his study and removed the bigoted thoughts from her head.

"We can use this information to target the Friends of Humanity," Scott informed Jean and the Professor. "Now we're aware of their plans, we can end their campaign of hate."

As the discussion continued, the Professor gazed at his quiet student. "Hopefully my removal of those memories has eased your suffering for tonight, Rogue."

Rogue nodded, thankful for his help. "Thanks, Professor," she said softly and left the study in a daze.

She wandered the halls and soon found herself gazing up at the locked liquor cupboard in the kitchen. With a frown, she pushed a kitchen chair over to the counter and borrowed a butter knife from the cutlery drawer. Carefully climbing the chair, she scooted onto the counter with her knees. Gently, she attacked the lock with the knife and tried to prise it apart.

Victor stalked inside the kitchen, an empty ice bucket in his hands. He eyed the girl on the counter and watched her failed attempt to break into the booze cupboard. After a while, he cleared his throat. "Ice cubes?" he asked her.

Rogue glanced at him and nodded in the direction of the nearby fridge freezer.

He watched her for several more seconds and finally searched a nearby drawer. When he closed the distance between them, he offered her a screwdriver. "Try that."

She took the screwdriver from him, and he went to help himself to the rest of the ice cubes deep in the freezer.

With a faint smile, Rogue broke the lock and dropped it on the counter. She opened the cupboard and took a six-pack of Canadian beer. When she climbed down, she gazed at him for a moment before she turned and left the kitchen.

Not long after, Scott entered the room and found the broken lock. He checked the contents of the liquor cupboard and looked judgementally at Victor. "We keep this locked for a reason. It's a school, we don't just let anyone have access to it."

"Well, this someone enjoyed the beer he snagged last night," Victor grunted and took the blame for the missing six-pack.

"What you do with Logan's beer is your business," Scott answered and went to fetch another lock.

Rogue reached the safety of her bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. She placed the beer on her desk and paced the carpet. With things clearer in her head, she realised a huge secret sat on her shoulders and it weighed her down. The longer she thought about it, she wanted to cry her eyes out because everything had been a lie.

Soon, she picked up the first bottle and unscrewed the cap. As she brushed away her tears, she continued to pace and sipped the beer. By the third bottle, she felt a little braver to voice the secret. Mystique's her mama, and Logan's her daddy. She whispered it time and again inside her head until the words felt less foreign. As she picked up the fourth bottle, she decided that everything she learnt tonight would be kept a secret. It was for the best, she decided.

As the days passed, Rogue felt like part of the furniture in her room. She barely left it, only venturing to the kitchen once a day. Overlooked and forever forgotten, she was seventeen going on seventy-two inside her head. She struggled to deal with the secret and gazed down at her math homework in frustration. A knock at her door shook her from her thoughts and she sighed.

Logan opened the door and looked around Rogue's bedroom. He failed to shake the suspicion she wanted to avoid him. "You as busy as you look?" he asked, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

Rogue glanced up from the page of scruffy equations and spotted the bag. That could only mean one thing, she wouldn't see him again for months. She searched his face for any signs of guilt. When she didn't find any, she shrugged and returned her attention to the page.

He raised an eyebrow at her lack of words. "I'm going on the road again," he told her.

"Bye," she muttered bluntly and kept her eyes trained on the scribbled numbers she wanted to break.

Logan's brow furrowed and he put her moodiness down to the pile of papers littered across her desk. "That homework giving you trouble?"

Rogue dropped the pencil and scooped the papers into her gloved hands. While she tried to make herself look too busy to chat, he continued to watch her out of concern.

She glanced at him again. He wore that same look in his eyes like the time he joined her on the train before Magneto kidnapped her. Maybe he felt sorry for her, and she hated that. "Everything's fine," she answered.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked her and waited to hear what was on her mind.

Focused on tidying the messiest corner of her room, Rogue kept herself busy with chores instead of truths. After she stuffed her homework into the desk drawers and brushed the fluff from her bed, she rearranged the cushions and pillows. When she turned to face the door again, she was surprised to find Logan still standing there.

"Everything's fine," she repeated, trying to convince herself when she failed to persuade Logan.

He watched her busy herself with more tidying. "Go have some fun with your friends," he suggested.

She swung around with tears in her eyes. "I don't have any friends, Logan. All I have is homework and this corner of my bedroom to tidy."

Her tears surprised him, and he heaved a heavier sigh, unsure what to say for the best. "You have me, kid," he said, his brow still furrowed when she turned her back on him.

Rogue brushed her tears away, desperate to appear stable. "I'm just tired and behind on all these chores."

Concern still written across his face; he gave a gruff nod. He put her upset down to her cheating boyfriend and backstabbing friends. As he stepped inside her room, he set his dog tags on her desk. "I'll be back for those," he promised her, reaching inside his beaten leather jacket pocket for the keys to Summers' bike. With one last look in her direction, he told her to go make some friends and find a hobby. "Something that's not tied to tears or schoolwork," he suggested unhelpfully and headed in the direction of the garage.

It was her turn to nod wordlessly and keep her thoughts to herself. She picked the dog tags up and gently twirled the chain around her wrist. As she listened to the sound of the motorcycle leaving the mansion grounds, she pushed her door closed. Fresh tears dripped down her cheeks and she realised keeping secrets made everything worse.