Entangled

by Wiccamage

Continuation of Ensnared. Co-Written with Maedelin! Driven by the heady combination of drugs and sex, Rogue makes her choice, letting Magneto use her as 'bait' in his quest to bring down the Friends of Humanity's trafficking ring. She'll soon discover, however, that once she's opened Pandora's box, it is impossible to go back.

2. Chapter 2: Home Sweet Home

~X~X~X~X~X~

Entangled

Chapter Three: "Home Sweet Home"

~X~X~X~X~X~

Rogue sat up shakily, biting her lip as she tried to calm her racing heart. As jittery as her short conversation with Beast had made her feel, she wanted nothing more than to lie down on the firm, welcoming, mattress of the hotel bed and just sleep until next week.

She somehow doubted, however, that Wolverine would appreciate having to wander the halls of the massive hotel trying to sniff her out. Visions of him cutting down doors and snarling through the keyholes as he searched for her made her both giggly and nervous.

And sick.

Mostly sick.

Thoughts of Beast's quick rise to ire, her own momentary weakness, and the realization she was still going to have to relay her story to her teammates had her running to the bathroom. She dropped to her knees on the gray marble floor, barely making it to the toilet before she regurgitated the BLT she'd consumed a few hours ago.

A few minutes later, when she felt like there was nothing left in her stomach, and her blood was thumping furiously through her head, she stood on shaky feet and rinsed her mouth. She took a moment to try and fix her wild hair, groaning at how disheveled and frail she looked with her unkempt waves and sallow complexion. With a sigh, she gave up on trying to look more put together and sat down on the toilet seat. Reluctantly, and with a great deal of effort, she pulled on the black heeled boots she had left by the tub and slowly zipped them up as her eyelids drooped.

She had to get out of this room before she passed out on the bed. She didn't want to explain to Wolverine why Magneto's scent was still so strong in the hotel room, or why HERS wasn't. Especially if she was planning on going with the story Magneto had suggested.

Rogue called the front office to check out and quickly gathered the few items she had - namely her purse with the new phone and the pills from Erik, and headed down to the lobby to wait for Logan.

Before the elevator had even opened to the first floor she could hear that familiar, angry snarl.

"Brown hair, white streaks. Y'r tellin' me ya ain't seen…"

"Logan," Rogue called out as she shakily stepped from the elevator, turning toward the sound of his voice before she had even caught sight of him.

"Chère!" Remy was standing at the counter next to Wolverine - both of whom were in full uniform - and immediately sidestepped the gruff Canadian, crossing the entire lobby in a few quick steps to wrap Rogue in a tight hug.

When she tensed, nervousness melting into fury, he pulled back to look at her face.

"What's wrong, p'tite? What happened?" His tone was full of empathy and concern, his red on black eyes clouded with guilt and remorse as his hands rested on her covered shoulders.

It made no difference to her. She pushed him away roughly, lips curling into a sneer. "Don't act like you care NOW, Gambit," she seethed, trying to keep her voice from echoing in the extravagant lobby. "You certainly didn't care enough t' see me home safe in the first place."

Rogue ignored Ororo's and Logan's shocked expressions as she brushed past the Cajun to return her keycard to the young man at the front desk. She flashed the clerk a sweet smile, leaning over and winking flirtatiously as he typed a few things into his computer.

"Your bill has already been paid, ma'am," the boy squeaked, gulping slightly as his eyes flicked like moths to a flame toward the swell of her breast that peaked out from the open buttons.

"Thanks sugah," she replied, winking again before she turned on her black heeled boot and headed for the door, hoping she could just get to the car without further incident.

The remaining three X-Men followed silently in her wake, exchanging concerned glances over the usually sullen southerner's uncharacteristic behavior.

Her swaggering bravado failed, however, the moment she stepped through the revolving doors into the warm glow of the sinking sun. She made it as far as two steps before her vision doubled and her body shivered, that sickly exhaustion creeping back into her bones as her adrenaline and rage wore off all at once.

"I gotcha darlin'," Wolverine's strong arms were around her waist as she stumbled, and for a moment she panicked, her brain flooding with flashes of being dragged out to a vehicle, of being held down, of men with knives, and guns, and ill intent. She felt her world slip and slide around her, and for a second she wasn't certain if she was standing, falling, or in those men's arms again.

Her face paled as she put a hand on Logan's chest, trying to push him away with a strangled cry.

Whether he smelled it on her, or just saw the look on her face, he recognized her rising terror and released his hold, watching silently as she crumpled to the dark gray concrete, somehow still holding tight to her purse. Wolverine held Gambit back with one arm, instead letting Storm assist the distressed young woman. Both men's eyes were clouded with worry, however, as they watched Rogue shiver violently and wrap her arms around herself.

"Rogue," Ororo spoke to her in calm, soothing tones, her voice like a soft summer rain, as she knelt before the girl. "Are you alright?"

The southerner nodded mutely, biting her lip as her face flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry. Just dizzy. It's been a helluva weekend t' say the least." It was an attempt at a joke, but her weak, watery smile belied her light tone.

"So it seems," Ororo smiled demurely. She started to offer her hand, but pulled back, brows furrowed. "Rogue, where are your gloves?"

"Hmm? Oh," the young woman looked startled as she stared at her hands. "Oh yeah," she sighed, despondent, before digging into her purse and pulling out a brand new pair of black silk gloves. She'd gone for so long without them now that the very idea of encasing her hands in the restricting fabric made her feel claustrophobic.

The group was starting to draw attention now as other hotel guests had to walk around the quartet in order to get in and out of the main doors. The bellhop and the young man from the front desk had both come out of the lobby to investigate and were standing nearby, just out of reach of Logan, who was glaring menacingly at the onlookers. The few who had pulled out their phones sheepishly tucked them away at his surly countenance. Gambit simply stood, observing the young woman with a growing sense of dread and guilt as he spotted the darkened bruises and scabbing ligature marks on her wrists.

Rogue nervously zipped her purse back up and pushed the strap higher on her shoulder before reluctantly donning her gloves. Once done, Storm took her hand and they stood together, although the southerner's balance was still off and she immediately toppled again.

Without a word, Remy gently took her other arm to keep her upright, and this time Rogue didn't snarl at him. She was too preoccupied with trying not to pass out or throw up.

With Ororo's arm wrapped around her left, and Gambit holding onto her right, the three managed to make it the last 40 feet to where Logan's jeep was parked haphazardly across four spaces. None of her three 'rescuers' said anything about the wounds that marred her wrists and forearms.

Rogue's knees buckled twice, but her teammates kept her from collapsing with a strong grip on her upper arms. By the time they reached the vehicle, however, Logan was viciously ripping off his own black leather gloves with his teeth, preparing to transfer his healing powers to the girl.

The young woman's eyes widened, and she started to protest when Storm interjected, carefully shifting all of Rogue's weight to Gambit. While the weather witch physically put herself between Rogue and Wolverine, Remy gently wrapped his arm around Rogue's back, pulling her slight form into the warmth and comfort of his body.

"Wolverine," Storm warned, putting a hand up. "I KNOW you just want to help, but you heard what Beast and the Professor said…"

As the other two X-Men argued, Rogue tried to keep from completely collapsing against Gambit. Regardless of how angry she was with Remy, the young woman couldn't help but melt into his embrace even as tears of shame and guilt pricked her eyes. For the first time this weekend, she felt truly remorseful for how rashly and thoughtlessly she had behaved.

Gambit CARED about her; she'd absorbed him enough times since he'd joined the X-Men to know that for a fact. Yet, she had given herself - mind, body, and soul - to another man without so much as a second thought.

And why? Because she was angry? Because she still felt that, on some level, Remy was indirectly responsible for what had ALMOST happened to her?

Remy could feel Rogue's conflicting emotions turn to sorrow, and in response he gathered her tighter in his arms, taking the chance to carefully kiss the top of her head before she could reject him again.

He didn't see the tears she shed as she turned her face into his chest.

"'Ro - she's in a bad way. She NEEDS…"

"I know how you feel, my friend, and we all share your concern for Rogue's wellbeing, but I cannot allow…"

"Please, Logan," Rogue begged, still sniffling within Gambit's supportive embrace. "You can't touch me yet. Hank NEEDS t' take mah blood first. Whatever those guys dosed me with is bein' used against other mutants, and we gotta find a way t' stop it." Her mental state was rapidly declining as her physical health spiraled, and she couldn't keep the desperation out of her voice.

The Canadian narrowed his eyes, grumbling, and slowly pulled his glove back on. He paused for a moment, however, and growled. "How do you know it's bein' used on MUTANTS, Stripes?"

Rogue shuddered violently as her knees buckled again, but this time Remy scooped her up in his arms, effortlessly opening the car door with his foot before placing her in the back passenger side of the vehicle. He pulled the seatbelt over her lap, noting how she tensed and trembled as he gently drew the band across her chest and waist.

Wolverine's hand shot out as Gambit tried to close the door.

"What the hell's goin' on here, kid? What aren't you tellin' us?" he growled, ignoring the magenta flash as Gambit's powers flared contemptuously on the door frame.

Rogue swallowed hard, arms encircling her waist. "Ah'll tell ya everything ya need t' know later, Wolvie, Ah promise." Her voice was weak, eyes pleading as she fought against her conflicting emotions. "Can we just go home, please? Ah feel like hell."

"You LOOK like hell, kid," Wolverine teased, and she rewarded him with a snort and a small smile. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, however, and he squeezed her arm briefly before allowing Gambit to shut the door.

"Help me with the top, Cajun," Logan instructed as he went to the back and pulled the soft shell out of the trunk. He, Gambit, and Storm made quick work of the canvas, but by the time they were done, Rogue was already asleep in the back seat, her head leaning heavily against the frame of the jeep.

Within minutes they were pulling out of the hotel's front parking lot, with Wolverine and Storm in the front seats, while Gambit attended to Rogue in the back, taking care to drape the shivering girl in his long brown coat.

Unnoticed, icy gray-blue eyes flashed from above as Magneto watched the X-Men's interactions from a nearby rooftop. He was in full uniform again, carefully keeping a watchful eye on the girl. Jealousy flared within his breast like a thrashing serpent and he had to force himself not to pluck Rogue from the vehicle and that slimy Cajun's hands.

He couldn't put too much blame on his girl - after all, she was coming down HARD from the many doses of Swing she'd received over the course of the weekend. She'd need a steadying hand at the very least. But watching her lean into Gambit, the other man's arms supporting and comforting her when it should have been HIM, raised his hackles to no whit. The metal in the surrounding buildings shook, and Magneto forced himself to take a deep breath.

He would reconnect with her soon, and when he did, he would make sure she knew EXACTLY in whose arms she truly belonged.

~X~X~X~

Rogue was roused from her fitful slumber by a pair of arms carefully lifting her from her seat, and she murmured happily as she snuggled into the warm, solid chest. Her hand fisted in the fabric of Erik's shirt and she breathed in his scent, drawing it deep into her lungs. She realized that he SMELLED differently, though, and frowned.

Instead of the cool, sharp scent of soap, citrus, and a hint of metal - like rusting iron left in the rain - she detected an earthy, warm combination of sandalwood, vanilla, and musk, with a trace of bourbon and second hand smoke. Truth be told, she rather preferred this concoction, as it reminded her so much of the south, but it was so contrary to what she'd associated with Erik that she shifted uncomfortably in his arms and forced her eyes open.

Bright, harsh light greeted her drowsy green eyes and she groaned, burrowing her head deeper into the masculine chest. A deep, rumbling chuckle vibrated against her cheek and she decided she'd much rather be asleep in his strong, comforting arms after all.

"Looks like de lights be too bright for her, n'est ce pas? Mebbe we can dim dem some?" Remy's rich, cajun patois reverberated in her ear and Rogue gave a start as she realized Gambit, and not Erik, was carrying her.

"Wh-what?" she mumbled, confusion settling across her delicate features for the umpteenth time this weekend.

"Dere she is," Remy's voice was light, practically exuding relieved levity as he adjusted her in his arms, snuggling her even closer against him as he traversed the sublevels with Storm and Wolverine leading the way.

"How you feelin', chère?" he asked, smiling down at her as she blinked up at him languidly.

Her face flushed slightly as she realized her mistake, and she was immeasurably glad she hadn't called out Magneto's name in her delirious state. Swallowing hard, Rogue suddenly found it difficult to speak as she fought against the dizzy, sick feeling that was currently swirling through her head and stomach.

"Like ah've got the flu," she finally rasped, eyes closing again as her head pounded in time with each of Remy's long, purposeful strides.

"That's likely the aftereffects of whatever you were drugged with," Beast's voice filtered through the fuzzy, aching fog in her brain, and she gasped as she felt herself being gently deposited on an inclined hospital bed.

When she dared open her eyes again, she groaned against a multitude of fuzzy faces and their duplicates as the room twisted and turned around her. She slammed her eyes shut again, bringing a shaky hand up to her face.

"Ah didn't feel this bad earlier," Rogue bemoaned, her body and emotions at war on whether to throw up or cry.

"You could be 'detoxing' so to speak," the furry blue mutant consoled her, and she felt smaller, deft fingers remove one glove and undo the small buttons at her wrists before rolling her sleeves up.

Rogue's eyes were still closed, but she still heard several gasps echo throughout the room as the wounds and bruises on her arms and wrists were revealed. She winced, but she was too tired and too sick to care or try to cover herself. She knew from the few seconds her eyes HAD been opened, that practically all of the X-Men (minus the newer recruits) were in the room - Kitty, Kurt, Jean, Scott, Storm, Wolverine, Gambit, Beast, and probably Xavier (though she hadn't seen his face).

"Oh my gosh, what, like, happened to her?!" Kitty screeched from somewhere across the room, and Rogue winced a second time as the sound bounced around in her skull.

"She ain't said yet, except that she was drugged." Logan's voice was low and quiet, and she was eternally grateful for it.

A tourniquet tube was wrapped around her upper arm and she whimpered from the new addition of torturous sensations, while her body began shaking from the sudden dip in the room's temperature.

"Jean -" Beast began, but before the blue furred doctor could finish, a small flannel blanket was being draped over Rogue's shivering form.

"Already got it," the redhead whispered, as if she knew how much Rogue's head hurt. "But I don't think that will be enough, she looks like she's half frozen."

"We drove wit' de windows up an' de heater on de whole way home," Remy's Cajun accent wrapped her headache in a soothing balm, and she wished he would just keep talking to her in those low, hypnotic tones for the rest of the night. "She ain't stopped shivering de whole trip. Like Hank said, prob'ly de drugs. Dis seems t' help f'r a spell, t'ough."

Rogue felt Remy's hands cover the blanket over her left side, and within moments an intense, tingling heat rippled across her body before seeping into her veins. She sighed contentedly and relaxed further, barely feeling the prick of a needle in her arm as Beast drew her blood. The heat gradually subsided as Gambit removed his hands - and his kinetic energy - from the blanket, and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her throat.

"I vill go get some more blankets - maybe Sunspot or Magma can warm z'em up, too," Kurt supplied, his voice edged with concern and eagerness. Rogue heard him teleport from the room, and her nose twitched at the sudden smell of sulfur, the odor making her stomach roll.

The needle in her arm was withdrawn a few minutes later, and with it, the tourniquet was finally removed as well. She heaved a sigh of relief as the pain in her arm subsided.

"Alright, Hank," Wolverine growled from the doorway. "You've got yer blood samples. NOW can I heal her?"

"Just a few more moments, Logan," the blue furred medic reassured him. "I'd like to get a bit more data first."

Still in a state of half waking, half sleeping, Rogue felt someone attach a pulse oximeter to her finger as her arm was raised to wrap a blood pressure cuff above her elbow. While the machines took her vitals, she felt a thermometer skim across her forehead and Beast whistled.

"104.5. Whatever's in this drug, it appears to be ravaging her system. Blood pressure is low: 75 over 43, which would likely contribute to the dizziness and lack of coordination we already discussed, Storm. Yet her heart rate is 120 bpm, which is abnormally high for her."

"Great, fine," Wolverine growled. "NOW can I give her some of my powers?"

Beast must have affirmed, because a moment later, Rogue felt a wide, meaty hand cup her face and she leaned into the warmth of the touch, murmuring softly. She felt the tug of her power biting at her cheek as she absorbed his abilities, but when he pulled away a few seconds later, she nearly cried out from the loss of his touch.

That is, until his powers fully kicked in and her eyes flew open. Suddenly, her blood was freezing and boiling all at once and she doubled over, holding her stomach.

The monitors and pulse oximeter beeped frantically as Rogue's blood pressure and heart rate skyrocketed, and she gagged, trying desperately not to vomit in the room full of her teammates.

Rogue could scarcely hear Kitty shrieking as her blood pounded in her ears, and she failed to hold back the painful wrenching of her stomach. Thankfully someone held a blue emesis bag up to her face as she vomited over and over, while someone else - possibly Jean's telekinesis - pulled her wild hair back and secured it away from her face.

"Hank!" Xavier bellowed over all the commotion, finally announcing his presence. "What's happening?"

"I - I don't know!" the medic admitted. "It could be the drugs themselves counteracting with her powers, or it could be Wolverine's healing abilities forcing them from her system too quickly. Like detoxing at triple speed instead of gradually!" Even the doctor seemed frantic and terrified as the machines continued beeping wildly and Rogue gagged and wretched and convulsed through the violent, fruitless vomiting.

"Can you give her something?" Scott's voice, concerned but collected, filtered through the machines and the shuffling, and she heard a terrified, "Mein Gott!" as Kurt teleported back into the room full of chaos.

Rogue was panting between a combination of painful dry heaving and full body shudders, and she fleetingly wished she had never left the warmth and safety of Erik's apartment.

"I don't dare give her anything else," Beast's voice raised an octave as he tried to maintain his composure and decide on the best course of action. "There's no telling if it could cause an even worse reaction."

The sharp smell of rubbing alcohol permeated her nostrils, and Rogue managed to open her eyes long enough to see a pair of fingers - one gloved and one bare - carefully holding an alcohol prep pad under her nose. For whatever reason, the acrid odor seemed to calm her overwhelming nausea, and the southern girl took a deep, shaky breath through her nose, letting the aroma work its magic as the convulsing slowed as well.

"Good thinking my friend," Beast praised Gambit as the frenetic beeping of machines gradually quieted. "Here, Rogue," the medic turned his attention back to his patient, "I'm just going to put this over your nose to give you a little more oxygen."

She nodded slightly in understanding and tried not to moan as she shivered violently while Beast placed the nasal cannula. When thick, deliciously warm blankets were draped over her legs and torso, and around her back, she nearly sobbed from how much better she felt from the combination of the heat and the subsiding nausea.

Rogue took a few more slow, deep breaths, letting the oxygen, blankets, and scent of sterile rubbing alcohol further soothe her senses. She brought a hand to her face, annoyed yet unsurprised to find her cheeks saturated with tears.

"Worst. Vacation. Ever." she groaned, reluctantly opening her eyes even as she managed to crack a tiny smile. Although her body felt terrible - stiff, achy, weak, and jittery: very much like she had a bad case of the flu - her head was finally clear; more so than it had been in days.

Relieved sighs, nervous chuckles, and one 'Jesus Christ', filled the room, and she watched as Remy removed the half full emesis bag from her lap and returned with a clean one after washing his hands - gloves and all. Meanwhile, Jean tried to hand her a capful of water, but Rogue's hands were shaking so badly she couldn't grasp it. Thankfully Storm stepped forward and took the small medicine cup in her white gloves and held it to the patient's lips. The southerner blushed vibrantly after she had guzzled the water.

"Well, this ain't exactly the kind of welcome party Ah was hopin' for," she joked, "but Ah'll take it. Thanks y'all." She smiled weakly, but gratefully at each of the faces in the room, noting that most of her teammates just looked happy that she was feeling a little better.

Beast and Xavier, however, simply looked concerned. The blue-furred medic busied himself with retaking her temperature and vitals, happily announcing her newest stats to the room.

"Temperature 99.4 - back within a normal range - heart rate 90 bpm: also acceptable; blood pressure is a little low, 90 over 55, but certainly a marked improvement. How do you feel, my dear?"

Rogue blushed at the nickname Erik also used for her, but snickered. "Lousy, but at least Ah can THINK straight again." A small smile of relief graced her pinched, pale pink lips, yet it was tainted by the whisper of sadness in her eyes.

"Could Ah have a little more water? Mah stomach seems t' be on the mend, but now Ah feel like Ah could drink the whole lake." Another smile and a few more chuckles, and Storm brought over a plastic cup of ice water at Beast's nod of approval.

"You had us worried, Rogue," the medic announced as he flashed a pen light in her eyes. "Follow my finger, please."

She did so, just managing to pass each of his small tests for reflexes and vision thanks to her absorption of Wolverine's healing abilities.

"You're still very pale and definitely dehydrated, but otherwise you appear to be in much better condition. I'm going to give you a few bags of IV fluids just to be safe," Hank announced finally.

The rest of the team had waited silently as he and Rogue had run through the basic tests, but the room erupted with chatter and questions once Hank moved to gather the necessary equipment for an IV.

"What happened?"

"Where were you?"

"Why didn't you call?"

"We were so worried!"

"We're very glad to have you back home safely."

"Je suis desole, ma chère."

All the words and sentiments jumbled together and Rogue rubbed the bridge of her nose above the oxygen cannula, fighting off another looming headache. She was relieved when Xavier cleared his throat and held up his hand, effectively silencing the room.

"Everyone, please," Xavier's kind, compassionate voice was serene and quiet, and Rogue relaxed a little more against the inclined hospital bed. "Are you feeling up to a few questions, Rogue?"

Biting her lip as she considered her mental state, the southerner nodded slowly. "Ah suppose so. But maybe Ah should just tell y'all what I remember first, and then see what questions Ah can answer?"

Xavier nodded understandingly, and the rest of the team made themselves comfortable in chairs, on the empty beds, or against the walls while Hank prepped her left arm.

"So Ah…" Rogue winced once as Hank inserted the needle into her other vein, then she cleared her throat, embarrassed over her initial choice to drown her sorrows rather than just come home.

"...Ah went to a little bar after-" Her gaze flicked to Remy, whose eyes were dark with concern and regret. "After lunch. Ah had a couple drinks - nothing crazy, just two or three of those fruity mixers, barely enough alcohol t' even get a buzz."

She noted the disapproving frown on Cyclops' face and flushed anew. "Ah left at about 4:00 t' get a hotel room, then heard this commotion from an alley behind the building. Didn't think much of it at the time, but when I turned the corner, Ah saw Magneto holdin' these four men hostage."

Rogue paused, taking a deep breath and shifting her gaze back into her lap as Beast finished hanging the bag of fluids from a metal hook behind her bed. Her hands shook anew, and she knew the stupid pulse reader was rising rapidly.

"Ah THOUGHT Ah was doin' the right thing, savin' 'em from Magneto. Ah thought about callin' f'r backup, but he looked ready t' kill 'em and there wasn't time. And by that point Ah was already feelin' a bit … fuzzy. Not quite playin' with a full deck, if ya know what Ah mean, but it didn't quite register at the time that mah drinks had been drugged."

Rogue dared to peek up at her teammates, noting the looks of concern and compassion on most of their faces. Wolverine, however, just looked like he wanted to skewer someone, and Gambit's expression was haunted by shame and sorrow.

Taking a deep breath, she forged ahead, still unsure of exactly how much information she wanted to divulge. "Ah got the jump on Magneto - absorbed his powers and managed t' knock him out for a spell. Ah was… Ah was tyin' HIM up when THEY jumped me." She swallowed, cheeks flushing for an entirely different reason.

"Who did?" Xavier's voice was delicate as he coaxed her to continue.

The southerner sniggered, angry and annoyed by the irony. "The four men Ah THOUGHT Ah was savin'," she admitted, her tone biting. "They hit me over the head before Ah could blink. Then they tried t' shoot Magneto, but Ah was able t' use his powers to throw the guns away. Ah couldn't even see straight by that point, though. They -" her breathing was increasing rapidly, and the blood pressure cuff squeezed her arm, giving her a welcome reprieve even though it beeped angrily at her rapidly rising stats.

"They knocked me around a bit, bruised some ribs and such. Said something about their 'cocktail' catching another one, and about takin' me somewhere, but Ah was off my rocker by then. They were holdin' me down when I FINALLY realized Ah'd been drugged. Erik said it had to have been the bartender since Ah never took mah eyes off the glass, like ya taught me." Rogue glanced up at Logan again, a tiny smile playing at the corner of her lips as if trying to assure him she wasn't a complete fool.

"Who's 'Erik'?" Kitty interrupted suddenly, and Rogue flushed pink as she stared at her slightly shaking hands again. She still had one black silk glove on, but the other hand was ashen white.

"Erik Lensherr - Magneto," Xavier supplied quietly, and a few murmurs rose up amongst the team. The Professor must have silenced them, however, as he encouraged the bed-ridden girl to continue. "Please, go on if you can, Rogue."

Swallowing hard, the Mississippi native nodded, glancing up at their mentor for a brief moment before studying her pale fingers.

"I heard 'em say somethin' about gettin' PAID f'r mah powers, but the next thing Ah knew there was just blood…everywhere." She must have turned slightly green, as Remy was suddenly next to her, holding the new emesis bag close to her face. The young woman took a few shaky breaths and pushed it - and Gambit - away. The Cajun took a few steps back, leaning against the wall again, his arms crossed even as he clutched the empty blue bag in one hand.

"Last thing Ah really remember at that point was the… gore. Ah passed out, and when Ah finally woke up, Magneto was there." Rogue's voice raised an octave as she rushed through the rest of her story.

"Ah was still really out of it, but he took care of me, got me cleaned up, new clothes, paid for the hotel room, made sure Ah ate and had plenty of water. He told me about the drugs - said it's called 'Swing.' And this group? They call themselves the Friends of Humanity. They've been HUNTING mutants."

At this she looked up at Xavier imploringly, her countenance turning from nervousness to conviction. "They're usin' this drug, Professor; lacing it in people's drinks t' find mutants and kidnap 'em. Erik said there's folks goin' missing all over the state. Some have turned up dead and mutilated, or…"

Xavier held up a hand, stopping her. Tears were rolling down Rogue's face again, but this time she couldn't blame it on the drugs.

"Shh, shh," the Professor soothed, moving forward to grasp her covered knee with a reassuring squeeze. "It's alright. I understand your concerns, Rogue. I promise we WILL look into it."

She wiped her tears away with her other bare hand and smiled gratefully at the older man.

"If you were just in that hotel room all this time, then why didn't you call us?" Wolverine growled from the doorway. "We called and texted, then traced your communicator to that alley on Saturday mornin'. When Gumbo and I found those bodies with yours and Magneto's scent… God, Stripes. You had us worried sick."

Rogue bit her lip, casting her eyes down at her lap as Xavier pulled away. "Like ya said, Ah lost mah communicator, and well, Erik destroyed my phone. Said he didn't want the X-Men t' come arrest him for defending me."

"Defending you?" Scott's bark of laughter rang through the room. "From what Wolverine described, that was a MASSACRE, not an act of defense. There's no reason those men couldn't have been sent to prison or -"

"We're MUTANTS, Cyke," Rogue suddenly snarled. "You think those guys woulda spent one SECOND in jail for assault or attempted kidnapping of a MUTANT? And yeah, Ah KNOW he didn't have t' kill 'em. He was actually kinda pissed about it - he WANTED to interrogate them, but kinda …lost it."

She trailed off, taking a deep breath. Her teammates didn't need to know just WHY Erik had lost his composure and mutilated the men. They didn't need to know just how close Rogue - however untouchable she was to everyone else - had come to being brutally raped and abducted.

"So were you unconscious for the duration of the weekend?" Beast asked as he furiously typed notes into his tablet.

"Here and there. Ah managed t' get a bath or two in." Another dusting of her cheeks as she tried to keep unbidden images of Erik sensually washing her body from seeping out of her mind. "Mostly Ah slept. The drugs made me loopy and seemed t' last forever."

"What symptoms did you experience while under the effects of the drugs?" Beast asked again, barely looking up at her.

Rogue cleared her throat. "Dizzy, lightheaded. Little nauseous. Kinda silly - almost giddy, ah suppose? The drugs are supposed t' be laced with GHB - least that's what Erik sa-"

A loud crash cut Rogue off, making her and several others jump, as Wolverine pounded on a metal tray and caused the surgical tools to crash to the floor.

"STOP CALLIN' HIM ERIK!" the Canadian bellowed. "He ain't y'r BUDDY, Rogue. He's a murderer and a terrorist. If he showed you even a BIT of mercy or kindness, it AIN'T because he's a nice guy. It's because he's after something. Magneto's bad news."

"Logan," Rogue pleaded, trying to make him understand, "you don't …"

"I DO, kid," he growled, folding his arms. His voice softened as he continued. "We saw those marks on your wrists, darlin'. Can you honestly tell me he didn't keep you tied up, even once?"

Rogue's chin quivered unexpectedly and she turned away from her mentor, setting her jaw and folding her arms.

"Rogue?" Xavier questioned carefully from the other side of the hospital bed. "Is there anything else? Perhaps something you'd like to discuss… privately?"

"No," she bit out, "it's fine. Ah said everything that needs sayin'." She wasn't being entirely dishonest, she reasoned with herself. After all, the team didn't NEED to know about her other… exploits… with Erik.

"Just…" Her voice lost its edge, the anger and malice seeping away to passionate imploring as she met Xavier's eyes again. "Magneto AIN'T the bad guy we need t' go after here, ya know? We've GOTTA find those missing mutants, Professor. Figure out where this 'Swing' stuff is coming from and how to stop it. Please?"

Xavier leaned forward, patting her leg and giving it another squeeze. "Of course, Rogue. As soon as Beast has a look at your blood samples, we'll send another off to my friend Moira McTaggert - the geneticist. I'm certain between the two they'll be able to find something of use. In the meantime," he looked around the room at the other X-Men, "the team will investigate these claims of other missing mutants, and YOU will rest."

With a final squeeze of her hand, the Professor led the other students from the room, each one taking a moment to say their goodbyes and wish her well. As Ororo turned to leave, Rogue nervously called out to her.

"Hey, um, do ya know where mah purse wandered off to, 'Ro?" She tried to seem nonchalant about it, not wanting to raise suspicion. "Ah'd like t' take an inventory, ya know? See if Magneto or those goons took anything else Ah had in there."

"Of course," the white haired woman nodded understandingly and turned toward a bedside table, pulling out Rogue's small black purse and handing it to her.

"Thanks," the southerner sighed in relief. "Appreciate it."

Finally, only Remy, Rogue, and Beast remained in the room. Gambit cleared his throat, giving the blue furred medic a look, and Hank suddenly excused himself.

"Oh yes, I just remembered. I need to refrigerate these samples," he smiled, tipping his head to Gambit. "I will return in 5 minutes, Rogue. You can use your call button if you need me sooner."

The girl nodded and bit her lip, steeling herself for what was likely to be her least favorite conversation of the day as she tucked her purse under the arm opposite of Remy.

"Lissen, chère, I just wanna say-"

"Save it, Cajun," she growled, narrowing her eyes at him. "It's done. WE'RE done. F'r good this time."

His breath caught and she nearly smiled at the hurt reflected in his eyes. Good. She wanted him to feel the sting, the pain, he had caused her by walking away and leaving her alone in that restaurant. Maybe HE could cry some of the same tears of loss and loneliness she had shed this weekend.

"Rogue…" his rich, warm timber pleaded with her, unwilling to simply give her up and walk away. "I KNOW I did you wrong, p'tite. You got no idea how torn up I been dese last few days. Had de worst feelin' when Kitty told me ya weren't comin' home Friday. *I* was de one who tracked y'r communicator, just t' see if ya were okay. Den when Wolverine and I saw d'ose bodies… Mon dieu."

He knelt by her bedside, taking her gloved hand between his and kissing the back of it. "Rogue, I'm so, so sorry, ma chère. I never meant t' cause you pain, mon amour."

Rogue's throat swelled, making it hard to swallow the sudden emotion she was trying so hard to hide from him. So she turned her head away instead, refusing to look him in the eyes as she pulled her hand back and folded her arms.

"Ah know," she whispered, her intended rage melting into sorrow. "Ah know you didn't mean it, Gambit. We never do. But all we DO is hurt each other…" She finally plucked up the courage to look at him; all the pain, remorse, and regret in his dark eyes reflecting back to him from her own teary green.

She couldn't help it; her hand reached out, guided by her heart and emotions, and she rubbed her gloved thumb over his cheek as he knelt next to her. "Ah don't wanna keep hurtin' you, either Remy."

"Chère, de only time you ever hurt me is when you push me away," he replied, covering the hand on his cheek with his own. "When I found y'r communicator in all dat blood… Mon Dieu, Rogue, I thought I'd lost you f'r good and dat it was gonna kill me, too." He turned his face into her palm, lightly kissing the center of it. "Jus' gimme another chance, s'il vous plaît?"

Pools turned to streams as the tears finally escaped her eyes, rolling down her cheeks as she slowly pulled her hand back, folding it against her chest protectively.

"Ah'm - Ah'm sorry, Remy. It's over."

"Rogue," his voice deepened, no longer pleading, but protesting. "I LOVE you. And I KNOW you love me, too." He sat on the bed, one hand on her knee as he reached forward to tuck a lock of wild white waves behind the shell of her ear. It was a gesture that reminded her of Erik, but Remy's body language exuded patience, adoration, and comfort whereas Magneto had been passionate, authoritative, and… confusing.

With a deep shuddering breath, Rogue turned away, tucking her chin into her opposite shoulder as more tears cascaded from her eyes.

"Ah - Ah thought I did," she whispered, "but you don't hurt people you love, Remy," she whispered, but she didn't know if she was speaking to him or herself.

With a choked sob, she reached over and pressed the call button on her hospital bed. "On my way, my dear," came Hank's cheerful voice as it echoed through the oppressively melancholy room.

"Please, Gambit, don't make me ask Hank t' escort you out…" She refused to look at him, unwilling to witness the pain she had caused. Gone was the malicious desire to see him suffer for leaving her.

She had caused them both more suffering than his one small act ever could.

~X~

Rogue was finally allowed to return to her own bed for the night after two hours and two bags of I.V. liquids. Since everyone else was asleep, she immediately retreated to her ensuite bathroom, taking the box of emergency contraceptives Erik had given her out of her purse. The directions said to take within 72 hours of unprotected intercourse, and she sighed with relief. She was still within her time frame, as it had been somewhere over 50 hours by her calculations. She counted again: Friday to Saturday was 24; Saturday to Sunday was 48, and she was a stone's throw past the 48 hour mark now as the clock approached midnight.

She grabbed an empty glass off her bathroom counter, once again grateful to be one of the few students whose powers were considered 'dangerous' enough to warrant their own ensuite. It was a (post Apocalypse) development that had definitely irritated Jean to no end.

After drinking a few cups of water to calm her nerves, Rogue pulled four little pills from the box and gave up trying to pronounce the title - 'Miso'-something. It was some crazy name she'd never heard of. The only thing she DID understand on the box was 'emergency contraceptive for unprotected sex' and 'by prescription only."

Her stomach twisted into knots as she once again tried to wrap her head around her incredibly bad choices from this weekend. Not so much the sex itself - although her memories were fuzzy, she'd rather ENJOYED that aspect, she recalled with a deep blush; but the fact that her swiss cheese brain hadn't even considered protection, or any other possible consequences or outcomes.

Coupled with the fact that she'd slept with a man she BARELY knew - who was, in actuality, over thrice her age, and beyond redemption in her teammates eyes - was enough to make her feel beyond conflicted. What was done, was done, though. They had to make sure the FOH was stopped. This was bigger than her; people were being hunted.

Thinking again of what Magne- ERIK said, and the files he showed her, she knew she couldn't just walk away now. But even though the drugs were effectively cleared from her system, the room still spun, and she gripped the counter tightly as she leaned over the sink, pale knuckles washing out against the ivory laminate.

Rogue stared at her reflection, barely recognizing herself. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, contrasting sharply with the rest of her ashen complexion. Dark circles highlighted her sunken eyes, and her lips were still pinched and pale from dehydration. Her hair was unkempt and tangled, giving her a 'crazy homeless woman' look.

"Good gravy" she muttered, splashing cold water on her face. She dried with a towel and examined herself again. "Bout as good as a drunk racoon at a backwoods barbeque," she sighed, picking up the pills again and quickly reading the instructions.

Better to get this done and over with now.

She placed the pills under her tongue to dissolve as directed, and finished her bathroom routine, barely remembering to grab a maxi pad. She spent the rest of the necessary dissolving time setting up her new phone from Erik. She figured it would be smart to add a few more of her contacts to the device - especially if one of her friends ever tried to 'borrow' it. Plus, it might raise some eyebrows if she was carrying around two different phones all the time.

Biting her lip, she stared at the unnamed contact number. For a brief moment she considered texting him like some silly schoolgirl with a crush, then snorted at her own absurdity. Erik Lensherr was NOT the kind of man to send 'good night' texts to his girlfriend, and it wasn't like they were even in a REAL relationship.

This was more of an… arrangement of convenience. Right? Sure, he made her FEEL good - she blushed from her ears to her shoulders just thinking about HOW good - and he had been very affectionate and complimentary, but the thought of him taking her out on a date or texting her just to say hello was borderline lunacy.

Yet, part of her craved it. Required it like a broken bird trying desperately to fly. She had pushed Remy away time and time again because she knew they could never have a REAL relationship, yet she ran back to him every time. She NEEDED the warmth, comfort, and affection most people took for granted. So, after a time, she always returned to his arms, the loneliness in her soul making her heart cry out for contact.

And, like the empathetic, compassionate, devoted man he was, Remy answered the pleading of her heart each time; always willing to gather her in his arms and pick up the pieces of her broken soul, even at the expense of his own.

Rogue glanced at the silly purple and green stuffed Mardi Gras jester sitting on her nightstand and smiled even as her chest squeezed with regret. It had been a gift from Remy on the night he came knocking at the Institute's door, asking for admission to the X-Men… and her forgiveness for using her to save his father.

There would be no forgiveness this time, though. No alleviation for their mutual heartbreak; no understanding embraces or murmured apologies as he ran his fingers through her hair. This time she had run too far from him, putting spiteful lust and desperate desire before the last two years of friendship and tumultuous romantic history.

Pallid, trembling fingers grasped the small doll, clutching it to her chest as her throat swelled from choked, sorrowful sobs. She curled up on the bed, two days of imprisoned emotions and tears flowing out of her like a macabre lullaby, slowly crooning her to sleep.

~X~X~X~

As Cortez and the others made their exit from the conference room, Magneto sat back in his chair, contemplating. Mastermind had plucked all the useful information from the bigot's pathetic mind, and the corpse was cast into the Lower Bay's more common seachannels. His body will nourish underwater life, giving hope for others to thrive. A more fitting end than the mongrel deserved.

They predominantly preyed on women, this operation, but Magneto knew that humans were greedy, and would demand more eventually. There was no reason not to stop this now; before the Friends of Humanity became more powerful, more influential. If not only for the innocent few, but for the many mutants around the world who would be affected by this, Magneto had to act.

There was much to do. Despite plumbing the idiot's mind, the stooge had known fairly little, although he'd had more information than the bartender from Friday. The man Rogue had helped entrap knew a few more phone numbers, a few more names than the last. Mastermind had gleaned other such nuggets of remotely valuable information, and now that those "fellows" as they called themselves during their pathetic little meetings were identified, his subordinates could move in on a select few.

The Acolyte's would monitor, engage, and note their comings and goings. Magneto was unwilling to let the Friends of Humanity become too aware of how they were being stalked. It was a disgusting game of cat and mouse. However badly Magneto wanted to destroy the entire chapter here in the five boroughs, he knew that if he didn't locate the true head behind this organization - the fool on the television was no more their leader than Charles Xavier was - he was only stopping it for now instead of stopping it forever.

This weekend's work bore such delightful fruits thanks to Rogue's efforts. His Acolytes would move about the city, collecting information as they so often would for him. Perhaps his followers didn't number as many as Charles Xavier's - yet - but tomorrow is not today. Once he obtained all that he needed - all that he wanted, all that he DESERVED - he would turn his attention to increasing mutant kind's numbers towards his cause. It would be easy, once they saw how well and swiftly he dealt with their enemies.

He wanted to make certain that when he struck the Friends of Humanity, it was swift, vicious, and would cause utter devastation to their entire order. Magneto and his Acolytes would inspire such fear that no human would dare think to raise their hand to a mutant for a century.

And with a girl like Rogue at his side, they could do much to bait the traps that would inevitably lead to such a future.

~X~X~X~

Stabbing, wrenching, clawing pain ripped through her abdomen as the medication Magneto gave her took effect. For hours she writhed, doubled over, clutching her stomach as cramps rippled outward from her belly. More than once she considered going to Hank - there was no way this was normal - but a quick internet search revealed dozens of reviews from women with the same experience: intense, excruciating cramping that doctors described as a 'bad period' while users claimed it varied between 'mild discomfort' and 'like dying'.

Rogue tended to side with 'like dying'. She didn't blame the ones who'd gone to the ER seeking relief. If she hadn't been desperately trying to conceal her lurid activities with Magneto, she might have gone herself. She currently felt like someone was taking an egg beater to her insides while simultaneously pushing them through a cheese grater.

She moaned into her pillow, trying to hide her sounds of discomfort from anyone who might be listening - either physically or telepathically. As hard as it was for Jean and Xavier to 'read' her thoughts anymore, their current distance wasn't far enough if she accidentally projected. Which meant she had to be careful, walking a tightrope until these interminable cramps passed.

Dawn had come and gone, passing through her curtains like a shadow in a horror movie, and she'd listened from her bathroom as the hordes of other students headed down to breakfast. Some had tried to quietly sneak past her room, whispers of Rogue's misadventures on their lips, while most continued on as if nothing had changed.

She'd had to change pads three times in the few hours since the agony had started, and she wondered how much longer it was going to take to expel all of her insides. She didn't even want to think about all the other - things - she'd experienced since then. Suffice it to say, however, if Logan came near enough to smell her, he'd probably whisk her down to the Medbay immediately for a blood transfusion.

When a soft knock sounded on her door, Rogue nearly swore. Her only consolation was that it was too quiet and timid to be Wolverine, and too high up on the door to be Xavier. Regardless, she kept quiet, staring at the door and hoping that whomever it was would think she was asleep and go away.

No dice.

Kitty's head peeked through her door without opening it, her face lighting up for a mere moment to see that her friend was awake. Then concern flashed in those compassionate blue eyes, heralding Rogue's doom.

"Rogue?" Kitty walked through the door, a tray of breakfast foods in her hands. "Oh my gosh, are you okay?" The petite brunette set the tray on Rogue's wide, short dresser and walked to the bed, kneeling down in front of her friend.

The southerner smiled weakly. "Ah'm FINE Kit. Started mah period last night 's all. Can you believe it?" She tried to make her voice seem light and incredulous. "Just mah luck."

"Are - are you SURE that's all?" Kitty asked, looking Rogue up and down. Her friend was pale - moreso than last night, even - and curled into as tight of a ball as possible. "Maybe - maybe I should go get Mr. McCoy…?"

"No!"

Rogue reached out but paused, biting her lip at Kitty's startled expression.

"Ah mean, no, please. Ah'll be fine. He gave me a clean bill of health before he let me go t' bed last night, Ah swear. Ah'm sure it just looks worse because of all the puking. Please, Kit. Don't tell anyone?" she pleaded, trying to unfold her body a little. "Ah'm mortified enough after barfing in front of everyone. Last thing Ah need is everyone fussin' over a stupid PERIOD."

Kitty played with her ponytail, still looking unsure as she stood. "Well, I brought you some breakfast. Maybe you'll feel better if you eat something?"

The southerner forced a smile, unwilling to tell her former roommate that the mere THOUGHT of food made her want to vomit again. "Sure, Kit. Thanks. Maybe in a little while." She made no effort in moving, instead wincing as another violent cramp ripped through her insides, and she bit her lip, HARD, to keep from crying out in pain.

"Could - Could I at least get you some Midol and a heating pad?" The brunette glanced toward the door, looking very much like she was about to go tell someone…

"Heating pad sounds great," Rogue panted, trying desperately to keep her voice even regardless of the squeezing pain. "Can't take the Midol though…"

At Kitty's startled expression, Rogue elaborated. "Just took some a few minutes ago," she lied.

Truthfully, she COULDN'T take anything. The directions had been very clear that she had to avoid most types of pain relievers due to the way they dilated blood vessels. In short, if she took an aspirin, she might bleed to death.

"Oh," her friend smiled as if appeased. "Okay, great. I'll go run and get you a heating pad then. Do you want some tea, too? You usually drink a lot of tea when you're on your period."

Rogue nodded against her pillow, a tilted grin on her lips. "Thanks Kit," she murmured. "You're the best. Just - please," she begged, green eyes full of worry, "DON'T tell Beast or the others? I don't think Ah can handle the mortification."

She forced a laugh, which in turn made Kitty smile and nod, and the southerner heaved a sigh of relief.

"I'll be back soon," the petite dancer assured her friend, then quickly phased back through the door.

As soon as she was gone, Rogue took the opportunity to make her way to the bathroom, waddling as the pain doubled her over.

~X~

She must have been in the bathroom much longer than she had thought (well, she'd needed to change again, too), because when she emerged there was a steaming cup of tea on the nightstand next to the bed. Her arm wrapped around her midsection, she took two steps out of her ensuite when a shrouded figure at her window startled her.

"Oh!" she shrieked, jumping back and slamming into the door frame.

The figure emerged from the shadows.

Gambit.

"FU-" she started, catching herself. "Dagummit, Cajun! You near abouts scared me half t' death! What're ya doin' in mah ROOM?!" Despite the twisting of her insides, Rogue forced herself to maintain a straight composure as she growled. Remy had an irritating knack of seeing right through her, and she didn't want to give him any excuse to run to Beast or Xavier.

Red irises flashed against black retinas as Gambit chuckled at her uncharacteristic reaction. Sure he'd startled her on occasion, but she usually wasn't this jumpy - or casual about it. On a normal day she'd be throwing things at him by now.

His lips tilted in an amused, cocky grin. "Caught Kitty in de hallway lookin' for a heatin' pad. She said you were on y'r period." The grin was suddenly gone, replaced by a deep, concerned frown as he took a few steps toward her and saw how truly terrible she looked.

"Y'r period just ENDED two weeks ago, if'n I recall," he stated, dark eyes boring into her soul. "What's goin' on, p'tite?"

"N-nothin'," she fibbed, averting her gaze as she sidled along the wall away from him. "You know how unpredictable this girl stuff can be…"

Strong hands planted against the wall on either side of her shoulders, halting her retreat. Although his body language was insistent and slightly intimidating, she wasn't SCARED of him. Not like she had been with… Her throat closed, making her breath catch as her chin quivered.

"Rogue…" that rich, alluring voice, dripping with concern and warning, slithered into her stomach and clenched her insides in a way that had nothing to do with cramps.

She pushed a hand against his armored chest, but her fingers turned white from the effort and he refused to budge. "Remy, I told you, we ain't…"

"I know we ain't, chère. But dis ain't about US. It's about YOU," he stepped back, offering his hand to her; entreating, patient. A request and not a command.

But she wasn't wearing gloves with her black silk pajamas (another gift from Remy) and she pulled back, barely realizing she had actually reached out for him.

Encouraged, he slid his hand down her silk covered arm, making her shudder as he gently took her elbow and guided her to the bed. He seemed to sense her hesitancy and took slow, even steps, letting her shuffle along beside him until she was seated on the bed. Just the pressure of sitting made her wince, and Remy quietly handed her the medicinal tea, letting her drink a few sips before replacing it on the nightstand.

"You sure you don't need de doc, chère?" Gambit asked again, voice saturated with concern.

Rogue shook her head slightly as her stomach protested the small amount of liquid. "It's just ... a bad period, that's all," she quoted the internet 'doctors' even as she tucked her legs up to her chin. "Did Kitty bring that heating pad by chance?" she asked, still avoiding Remy's eyes. The heating pad was her last 'Hail Mary' to try and alleviate SOME of the intense cramping that was currently clawing its way from her gut up along her spine and down her legs.

"'Fraid not," Remy sympathized, "Jubilee fried de last of 'em a couple days ago."

Rogue couldn't help the whimper that escaped her throat, and she bit her lip harshly as a tear tried to break free as well.

"Lemme HELP, chère," Remy whispered, gently petting her hair and tucking a lock behind her ear with his finger. His bare skin brushed hers, and she felt something akin to a minor static discharge, although it was more of a pleasant tingle than a painful shock, as she absorbed the tiniest bit of his mind.

He knew what he was doing, damn him. Let her get just a taste of his emotions - his deep desire to help her and maybe atone for his mistakes.

"Remy," she insisted. "Ah TOLD you. We're DONE. Ah can't…"

"Y'r still my best friend, chère." * He knelt down, putting his hands on her covered knees. "I know y' don' wanna trust me wit' your heart no more, but you still trust me as an X-Man, non? I aint y'r first choice, but you'd still trust me with your life if push came to shove, mais oui?"

Biting her lip, she nodded, her eyes unable to leave his.

"Den lemme help you."

"Ah - Ah don't want t' go back to the Medbay," she pleaded, tears in her eyes. "It's just - it's just the drugs. Eri-MAGNETO warned me it might screw with mah hormones." Again, she reasoned, not quite a lie, just a little… misleading.

Remy nodded, placing his covered palm against her cheek, and again, she couldn't help but lean into the pseudo-touch as his bare thumb stroked over the hair covering her ear. A few droplets fell from her eyes, landing on his glove.

Standing up, the Cajun bent to kiss her on the top of the head - gentle, sweet, full of all the love and affection he carried for her - and she choked back another sob as he pulled the covers down, silently beckoning her to climb inside.

Once she was secure under the blanket, curled on her side with her legs drawn up, Remy climbed in next to her. Her breath caught as he slid closer, pressing her back up against his chest, while his hand splayed out along the black silk covering her abdomen. She made sure to keep her bare hands above the blanket and her shirt tucked into her pants to minimize accidental skin contact.

The position wasn't entirely unfamiliar for them. On the rare occasion that Rogue actually dropped her guard and LET Remy comfort her, she'd reluctantly snuggled with him in a similar fashion. And, if her guess was right, he was probably going to…

"Oh gawd," she moaned in relief as the warm tickle of his kinetic powers pulsed through his chest and hand. It was like he was able to contain the heat and energy within his body, letting it exude outward from his skin and warm her insides without actually causing her harm. His hand practically vibrated for a few minutes until he had to pause and recenter himself.

She whimpered at the loss, amazed by how much of a difference the small action made to her clenching muscles. He kissed the back of her hair once and took a deep breath before pushing his powers toward her again, using all his energy and stamina to bring her some relief.

Rogue nearly cried from the irony. Here she was, in perfect agony as a result of her actions with one man, while the other - whom she had not only rejected, but who also had nothing to do with her current physical condition - was trying his best to alleviate that pain.

And where was the man who had helped create this mess? The one who SHOULD be with her? Who knew? Probably plotting someone's death...

Tears fell onto her pillow as she contemplated the cruelty of fate. The man she could TOUCH was emotionally, mentally, and otherwise unavailable to her. And the man who LOVED her, who had given her his heart time and time again, could never touch her; never be with her in all the ways they BOTH wanted.

~X~X~X~

He was thinking of her again. Alone with his thoughts, Erik cursed himself even as he knew what he was doing was right. But, as sleep eluded him tonight, the events of the past few days kept replaying in his mind.

He recalled that first moment in the alley when Rogue had surprised and incapacitated him. He hadn't even had time to react as she'd expertly attacked BEFORE announcing herself - a tactic even his most vetted Acolytes still struggled with. He'd been furious with her for interfering, but when he'd heard her terrified shriek and opened his eyes to see those men holding her down in such a vulnerable, provocative position, something in him had snapped. His rage had shifted; the idea of those perverted homosapiens trying to brutally rape the girl who'd single handedly brought down Apocalypse made his blood boil with an intensity he hadn't experienced in years.

Erik sighed; he knew it would be a long night, but decided that if it would be so, then he should spend it planning. But his mind would not focus. Now that Rogue was back with the X-Men - after two days of tawdry, mind blowing sex fueled by the X.D.M. - he found himself cursing the necessity of keeping her at a distance. He knew she didn't need to know everything just yet, though.

If she knew how vital she was to his plans, she may pull back, recede, run once more. She was one that seemed naturally inclined to distrust and fleeing, if her past was any measure. He did not consider it cowardly; not at all. She did not have an offensive power that was as direct as some, and she had been through harrowing experiences in her short years. She was also resourceful, as she proved that Christmas Eve years ago when she had managed to steal his powers. And, in the intervening years since, she had proven time and again that she was a steadfast ally to those she deemed worthy. Yes, either fleeing, or when fighting, he found her a formidable foe.

But tonight he was not contemplating her battle prowess. No; instead he thought of her wrapped in his sheet, regularly exhaling in small, gentle puffs of air as dawn spilled over the bed. He'd happened to wake, and had spent a moment watching her, contemplating her unique strengths.

His thoughts turned again: wrapped in that sheet, feeling her lithe body against his. From the moment he drew her to him, until the moment he had stirred, he'd kept her flush against him, trapped by the blankets, his body, and his little serpent.

He'd felt the slick metal against her left ankle, not only because his leg was threaded between hers, but because his powers let him sense metal in a tactile way. Yes…she didn't know, no one did, how he sensed the world. Wolverine would never be able to stealthily approach him. Not with all that lovely metal within him.

Such lovely metal…he thought to himself, reminiscing about when Rogue had awoken to find herself bound on the bed with him gone; how she had thoroughly pleasured herself in her drugged desire. His ardor rose, but he let himself be tortured further by the memories. It made it more delectable.

When he'd teased her awake later, the ice in his hand had burned through his gloves, a perfect counterpoint to the raging inferno she stoked within him. He remembered watching the cube pebble her skin with growing fascination. He recalled the sweet taste of her desperation to reconcile the pain even while in the throes of aroused ecstasy. In his memories, he recanted gifting her sweet mercy, and even then, the pleasure didn't abate for either of them.

No matter what, no matter her situation, she inflamed him in unfamiliar, exciting ways. It was similar to her mercurial nature, one moment unsure and hesitant, the next bold and irreverent. But no matter what, she challenged him even as she obeyed. Even as she didn't want to admit that she restrained herself more than he ever possibly could.

He'd seen it in her eyes when he pulled her from the alley, drenched as she was in sanguine fluids and swill. Eyes glassy and unfocused from the drugs, she'd fixed him with a snarling, vicious look despite the fear he could see in her eyes.

He remembered her on the street, fighting against Thad - the 'douchebag,' as she had called her would be captor. Even under the influence of the drugs, she had been smart and strong, her instincts sharp.

He was glad she was well trained and level headed, because they were going to use the same tactic again, due to its success. In fact, there was little need to think about that aspect of the weekend. Instead, he focused on Rogue and what he would have in store for her, before, during and after their next meeting. In a few days, a week at most, he could contact her, leave word of where he would collect her.

After all, he wanted their next excursion to be one to remember.

~X~X~X~

Rogue wasn't sure when Remy had left. She'd drifted off at some point - her muscles temporarily satiated by his miraculous abilities - and, like the master thief he was, he'd slipped away without disturbing her tenuous slumber. His absence twisted her heart miserably, but she was also grateful he'd spared her the awkwardness of waking up with him there.

Not to mention how utterly dangerous it was for her to fall asleep with him like that. One slip - one second of skin to skin contact - and she could put him in a coma. Not like THAT ever deterred him though…

Remy LeBeau knew EXACTLY how, when, and WHERE to nudge her proverbial 'boundaries' in such a way that made her push that line a little left of center each time. He seemed to enjoy toying with that 'wall' she'd erected around herself like it was just another security system trying to keep him away from some mystical treasure. He was always there, just inside her guard, under her skin**, making her feel an entire spectrum of emotions she'd closed herself off to even before her powers had emerged. Even when they were on the outs, their yo-yo of a relationship closed up and put away, he still managed to make her feel like she was made of diamonds.

Except this time all his flattery and attention couldn't salvage the fact that she had essentially betrayed him, and with Magneto no less. Yet, here she was, STILL accepting Remy's help and affection. She felt like absolute pond scum - part of her was convinced she'd cheated on Gambit with Magneto, and now she had the distinct impression that she had betrayed Erik as well. After all, the 'Master of Magnetism' didn't seem like the type to easily dismiss any perceived transgressions with someone he was 'seeing'.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Rogue briefly wondered what Magneto would do if (or rather WHEN) he found out that she had been cuddled up in bed with Remy. The idea of being 'punished' both thrilled and terrified her. She desperately wanted the feeling of his hands on her again, of that tiny spark of pain encapsulated by intense pleasure. It was a sweet penance, and it helped her to accept what she had done. Part of her even felt as if she deserved the pain, the punishment, for her indiscretions.

Whatever else though, thankfully, Rogue's body wasn't hurting quite so badly now. She began to hope that perhaps she could just focus on all her other pains, that she was out of the woods with the XDM. After all, the last time she had any 'Swing' was over a day ago, and the effects hadn't lasted this long the first night…

…Right?

It was SO hard to remember; she could dimly recall counting the days on her fingers, and she did it again now, before she plum forgot why and her thoughts drifted to what had happened in Erik's kitchen as she'd washed the dishes.

Legs shifting, the pressure, the swelling. Oh, her head pounded, throbbing to some sickly, rhythmic beat, and it made her oversensitive sex pulse as well. She wanted to lie down for a nap, but also to be fucked within an inch of her life despite the pain between her legs. Her hands were moving automatically as she dried a glass and lifted herself up on her toes to place it in the overhead cabinet with the others. As she did, she was enveloped from behind by Erik, pressed against the counter - his cock hardening as it was pushed against her - his warmth bathing her in a heart-breaking alien sensation that she never wanted to stop feeling.

The tumbler fell from her suddenly numb fingertips, and he caught it deftly, transferring it to the shelf. He made no move to part, instead, she felt his lips on her neck, her ear. The flames inside her roared to life again, and she felt her knees veritably weaken in anticipation. Again in memory, she felt the cold marble against her chest and stomach, the feel of his strong, hard hands…oh god those fingers-they-

Rogue's eyes snapped open, she hadn't remembered closing them. What the hell?! Didn't she have any control over herself any longer?

Evidently not. Rogue made a small noise of frustrated arousal and curled around herself as she remembered another moment. It came unbidden by her conscious mind: just as he had carried her from couch to bed, a dark and hungry glint in his eyes as she traced his jawline with a fingernail, rasping ever so faintly against his growing stubble.

She remembered his apartment was a studio, and large enough, of course, but he hadn't been able to stop himself from practically rolling her out of the bedsheet, grasping her shoulders to arrest her movement. His eyes held a storm of emotion as he loomed over her. Her arms reached up to him, and she pulled herself forward against him, kissing him as he pinned her down and then…

Shaking her head to clear her mind, Rogue forced herself to get up. She couldn't keep ruminating like this or she was bound to catch the attention of a telepath. After she'd showered and changed… again… she quietly ate the banana Kitty had left her from breakfast. She decided on the snug black pants Erik had bought her and her longest, buttery soft green sweater. It was the end of June, and the heat outside was sweltering, yet she still felt like her blood was made of ice, despite the fact that her body was practically on fire from the unbidden memories of this weekend's … activities.

Sighing, she took her laundry - sheets and all - to wash, growling at her own frailty as she couldn't even carry the stupid hamper, weak as she was from the combination of hunger and blood loss. Instead, she'd had to carefully bundle everything up and carry it by hand. Gratefully, the laundry room was on the same floor as the bedrooms so she didn't have far to go. She ran into a few students here and there, mostly the ones who had recently graduated high school like Sam and Bobby.

Sam had asked if he could help, bless his heart, but Rogue had turned crimson and weakly declined. Then he'd tried to engage her in conversation, but she must have looked as poorly as she felt because he quickly excused himself after opening the laundry room door for her. Gratefully, she had no further interruptions as she sprayed and set her soiled clothes to soak in the prewash, then headed down to get a late lunch after washing up.

Her stomach was still churning slightly, and although nothing sounded GOOD, Rogue knew she needed to eat. And, bless her heart, but Kitty's 'breakfast' of burnt toast, hard oatmeal, and soggy eggs wasn't going to cut it.

Maybe a can of soup? Soup actually sounded manageable at least. She was still pondering possibilities of what she might be able to keep down when she entered the kitchen…

…and nearly cursed out loud.

Professor Xavier, Logan, Ororo, and Hank were all sitting around the kitchen table, quietly discussing something, and by the looks on their faces, ROGUE was the topic of conversation.

"H-Hey y'all…" the southerner smiled, quickly reading their faces and then heading toward the pantry as nonchalantly as possible.

She could practically HEAR Xavier raise his eyebrow as she pretended not to notice their expectant expressions.

"Rogue…?" the Professor called.

Yep, there it was. She didn't even have to turn around to know his hands were steepled in his lap, one eyebrow raised in amused concern. The southerner KNEW he wanted her to turn around, probably answer a few questions about her physical or mental health, maybe go over her story again, so …

She doubled down.

"Uh huh?" Bent over slightly - not TOO much, considering how dizzy it made her - she didn't even look back at the quartet of adults as she dug around for a can of soup and some crackers. Crackers sounded wonderful to her growling, yet sickly stomach.

Xavier cleared his throat and she suddenly wanted to cry. Again. Fudge it all, but she knew she was in for it. She tried to strengthen her mental blocks before turning around, making sure to square her shoulders and set her jaw in her characteristically stubborn way.

Rogue faced the four senior X-Men, one hand on her hip as she held a sleeve of saltines in the other. She was proud of herself. As crappy as she felt, she still managed to maintain an air of irritation and composure.

"Somethin' Ah can do for y'all?" she asked, her tone strong and even, with just a hint of annoyance. "Ah'm a mite hungry."

"I'm sure," Xavier's lips twitched up in the tiniest of knowing grins. "You missed breakfast AND lunch."

She shrugged one shoulder, the hunter green sweater sliding down to reveal the perfect, pale skin around her clavicle. "Ah was tired," she replied simply.

"And how do you feel NOW, Rogue?" Hank asked, his own eyes filled with the same concern from last night.

Dadgummit, but she was going to end up back in the Medbay for sure.

"Hungry," she deadpanned. At Xavier's reproachful look she added, "Still a bit tired, too, Ah guess."

"Mmmhmm," the blue furred doctor nodded and pulled a small first aid bag out from under his chair. "Will you have a seat, please?" He motioned to the empty chair adjacent to him at the end of the table.

Rogue rolled her eyes, head flopping back to stare at the ceiling, exasperated. She realized it was a bad idea, though, as the room spun for a moment and she righted herself immediately, smiling as if nothing had happened.

By the looks on the other's faces, however, she wasn't fooling anyone.

Begrudgingly, she sat, placing the crackers down in front of her and trying to stay as poised as possible despite her sudden bout of lightheadedness and the continuous - but manageable - abdominal cramps. She folded her arms, eyes narrowed in a glare reminiscent of her teenage years. Or, rather, anytime she was in a foul mood. Which really was more often than not.

As Hank donned a pair of his special surgical gloves, Rogue shifted uncomfortably. Just the thought of him taking more blood made her squeamish. After all, she already felt like she had lost about half of her total volume in the last few hours.

"What's this about?" she growled, trying to maintain that anger and irritation rather than falling prey to her lesser emotions. "Ah'd really just like t' eat somethin'."

"There's homemade chicken noodle soup leftovers in the fridge from lunch," Ororo smiled sympathetically and Rogue's face lit up with excitement. "Gambit suggested you weren't feeling well and might like some."

Excitement turned to REAL irritation as Ororo stood and headed toward the fridge. "Oh he DID, did he?" Her low growl made Logan chuckle. "Where IS that Cajun anyhow? Ah'll be sure to thank him for that."

"He's in the Danger Room runnin' drills with the others," Wolverine replied, grinning at the murderous look in her eyes. "You still got me in yer head, Stripes? Thought that woulda worn off HOURS ago."

Xavier and Ororo chuckled at Logan's joke while Hank focused on putting on gloves and carefully laying out a sterile sheet and placing a few items on it. There was a long, slender object that looked something like an old fashioned thermometer, three long clear pipette tubes, and a small card with little circles on it.

"Among other things," she grumbled, slouching farther in her chair as Beast prepared his medical tools. She was still waiting for him to pull out the stupid tourniquet and needle to draw her blood. Although, she had to admit, she'd much rather do this in the kitchen than the Medbay - minus the fact that there was a higher chance of another person walking in.

The thought of someone witnessing her latest shame made Rogue shift in her chair uncomfortably, her gaze flicking to the door.

"You needn't be concerned about prying eyes, Rogue," Xavier spoke up. "I've made sure everyone else is … indisposed at the moment."

The southerner opened her mouth to protest her sudden invasion of mental privacy when the Professor smiled. "I don't have to read your mind to interpret your body language. Believe it or not, it's something I've become quite adept at over the years."

Beast spoke up again, finally finished arranging his tools just so. "And while you've always maintained a fair complexion, I'm afraid you're rather starting to resemble Ororo's hair."

"I disagree, Hank," Wolverine argued before the southerner could give a rebuttal. His own arms were folded across his chest as he looked Rogue up and down.

"Thank you, Logan." Rogue grinned, her spine straightening with haughty satisfaction.

"'Ro's hair looks MUCH healthier," Logan finished, smirking. Ororo politely tried to suppress a snicker as she warmed the soup up on the stove.

Green eyes glared murderously at the Canadian while Xavier and the others attempted to hide their own amusement.

"Alright FINE, Ah still look like crap. Happy now? Ah'll make sure t' eat and go right back t' bed, then. Thanks." She moved to stand, but both Hank and Logan reached out from their adjacent seats, placing a hand on either arm and forcing her back down into the chair.

"Gloves OFF please, my dear," Hank requested, his expression a mixture of irritation and mirth at her antics.

Rogue's face fell miserably as she slumped back down, but complied.

"Considering how much blood I took from you last night, and your persistent state of ill-health - despite absorbing Logan's healing - I just want to test a small sample of your blood," the medic explained as Rogue removed both gloves and slapped them down on the table, her southern temper on full display.

"What for?" she asked, nerves flaring as she tensed.

"Blood sugar, iron levels, red blood cell count," he replied, taking a moment to glance at the other X-Men. "Just the basics for now. If I find anything of concern then I may end up needing full tubes after all."

The blue furred mutant held out his hand, silently asking for hers, and with a great sigh and an eye roll, she complied, placing her hand in Beast's massive gloved paw. He used the thermometer looking thing to prick her finger, and while she normally wouldn't have even registered the sharp poke, she actually flinched, wincing at the mild pain.

"Did that hurt?" Beast asked, his thick brows furrowing in concern.

"No," she lied, "just startled me a bit. Guess Ah'm just extra jumpy t'day." She kept her gaze trained on her finger, where Beast was now holding the small clear pipettes to the slowly pooling blood on her middle digit.

While Beast massaged and pressed on her finger to extract more blood to smear on the card, Ororo prepared some toast to accompany the chicken noodle soup.

"So, 'Doc'," Logan watched Rogue squirm slightly in her chair as Beast forced more blood from her digit. "Is this test of yours gonna show something like… I don't know… ANEMIA?"

Busted.

Rogue paled even more, if possible, and straightened as Hank finished up and put a bandaid on her finger.

"Ye-es," Hank drawled, looking up at Wolverine, and then Rogue. "Why?"

Xavier also raised an eyebrow as Rogue blushed furiously.

"Ah, um," Rogue swallowed hard and quickly donned her gloves. Usually that extra barrier helped calm her mental state, providing both a mental and physical wall against those around her.

But not this time.

"Ah started mah period last night," the southerner mumbled, staring at her hands and trying desperately to keep her mental walls up. Her face colored, not just because she'd been 'sniffed out', but because she was essentially being forced to disclose something incredibly private with the three older MEN.

"Oh, well, um, yes. I see," Hank stammered, apparently almost as embarrassed as Rogue herself. "This will certainly tell us if you're anemic, but menstrual cycles almost always result in such conditions. I would recommend you take the maximum dose of iron supplements for the next few days until it resolves." Beast smiled at her, but his eyes didn't quite reach hers.

"Is that part of why you missed meals today, Rogue?" Xavier questioned kindly from his wheelchair nearby.

She nodded numbly. This was EXACTLY the kind of embarrassment she'd warned Kitty against earlier.

"Was your cycle on schedule," Beast asked again, searching his pockets for a notebook of some kind. "Or was it unexpected?"

Rogue groaned loudly and buried her face in her hands as her ashen complexion turned crimson. No matter how she answered, she would still face the most awkward inquisition ever. She really wished she could recall powers at will so she could disappear into the floor like Kitty.

"Ahem," Storm cleared her throat as she strode out from behind the kitchen counters, hands on her hips. Her eyes were flashing white with warning. "I believe if Rogue has concerns about PERSONAL matters, she will ask. Henry, I suggest you run your tests quickly, and then you and I can PRIVATELY discuss proper recourse with Rogue, IF necessary."

Both Xavier and Dr. McCoy appeared properly chastised, muttering incoherent apologies as they quickly excused themselves. Wolverine seemed unaffected, however, instead staring hard at Rogue (who was still hiding behind her hands) for another minute until a shift in the air caused him to look up.

"Logan…" Storm's hair was prickling with electricity as her own irritation grew, her eyes turning white as a menacing expression formed on her face.

"FINE," he bit out, pushing his chair back roughly. "But if those blood tests come back with anything weird, Stripes, I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you to the Medbay myself if I have to."

"UGH!" Hands still over her face, Rogue dropped her head to the table, hiding behind her folded arms.

A crack of thunder finally forced the Canadian from the room, however, and Rogue groaned, her stomach clenching painfully from both cramps and mortification.

"Every time Ah think Ah can't possibly be more embarrassed," she muttered, her voice muffled by her arms.

Behind her, Ororo laughed as her hair and eyes returned to normal. She brought over a large bowl of the steaming soup on a plate with lightly buttered toast, placing it and a spoon alongside Rogue's folded arms. "It would seem we need a refresher course for our HIPAA*** training," the weather witch joked as Rogue finally came out from hiding and peeked her head up.

"More like a refresher in the meanin' of PRIVACY,' period." The southerner picked up the spoon as Ororo sat down in the seat Logan had just vacated. Rogue's cheeks were still tinted pink, but were no longer washed out either.

"Thanks 'Roro. Don't think Ah woulda lasted another second with them boys askin' questions about… that." She flushed again, then tried to divert her attention to the soup, taking a large bite. "Mmm! Tastes so good it'd bring tears to a glass eye." The young woman smiled broadly as she met the weather witch's cerulean irises and ate another spoonful. "Thanks again. Guess Ah owe ya for two now," she winked.

"You're welcome, my friend. On both counts."

The soup truly was delicious. A perfect proportion of liquid, meat, noodle, carrot, and celery. Not to mention whatever spices the African goddess had added. Best yet, the heat and broth helped quiet her finicky stomach, bringing Rogue some much needed relief and nutrition.

She sighed happily, truly starting to feel better now that her cramps had subsided somewhat and she had food in her belly. "Got some kick to it too - not enough t' upset the stomach, but just a pinch f'r flavor."

Ororo chuckled, "Courtesy of Gambit if you can believe it."

Rogue snorted, then flushed pink again at the memory of cuddling with him this morning. "Ah believe it." Her mood shifted, this time to melancholy, and Ororo placed a hand on the younger woman's arm.

"If you wish to talk, Rogue, I am here," the weather witch offered quietly. "Be it physical, emotional, or romantic troubles, I am more than happy to lend a listening ear without judgment. I hope you know that."

The southerner smiled gratefully, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I know, 'Ro. And Ah appreciate it. Ah just - Ah ain't got nothin' t' talk about right now. Guess Ah'm just … processing still." Green eyes stabbed at the bowl of soup before glancing up to meet empathetic blue.

"I understand," Storm nodded, giving Rogue's arm a squeeze before standing and walking to the locked cabinet full of vitamins and supplements. She punched in a code and pulled out a bottle, placed it on the table next to Rogue. "Henry recommended iron supplements. I believe you can take up to two a day. Do NOT take more than that though," the white haired woman warned, "or you could cause damage to your liver."

The southerner nodded, grinning lightly. Ororo returned the smile with one of her own, then turned and left the kitchen.

Rogue sighed in relief, finishing her soup and half of the toast before cleaning up and heading back to bed with the iron supplements. Her close call with Logan and the mortifying conversations had left her as emotionally drained as the pills had physically.

And, for the first time, she was actually GLAD to be temporarily 'benched' from the team, knowing she needed to be back in top form before she could help the X-Men track down these Friends of Humanity people, or at least text Erik for updates or see if she could somehow help on that front.

Until then, she felt assured that the X-Men would work tirelessly to find the missing mutants, or at least stop some of the potential kidnappings and assaults.

If only she knew…

~X~X~X~X~X~

*From the "Rogue and Gambit" Mini series (2018), issue #1; Rogue and Gambit had been on the outs for a while when Gambit shows up to the mansion during a training session Rogue is running with some of the other mutants. They share a moment, and when Remy asks Rogue out for dinner later she declines, knowing that with their history it's never "just dinner." He comments that she is still his best friend, and it's a heartwarming moment that really hits home with how CLOSE the two are regardless of their current broken relationship.

**This is a reference to a line Rogue speaks to Gambit in the comic books (X-Men Legacy 234 - thanks Maedelin for looking it up!) where she remembers a lot of steamy moments the two have had - and accidentally ends up projecting those memories to the entire campus (having just absorbed the Stepford Cuckoos telepathy). It's one of my favorite scenes.

For a really good oneshot (RoNeto), check out "Those Pesky Feedback Loops" by Christinamc24 on AO3 that's also based off this issue (and an artist's drawing challenge)

***HIPAA training is a U.S.A. based policy regarding medical data, and the privacy around it. "The Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act." It's pretty much just a law stating what info is appropriate or not to share in regards to personal, private medical information. There's more to it than that, but that's the reference here.

Thanks to Maedelin for including the picture from issue 234! (Found on AO3 or my livejournal page under wiccamage)