A/N: It's my cousin's birthday today (April 17) so it's the perfect day to post an update! Plus, it's ready and exactly a month later than the previous update.

In Your Blood

Chapter 7

Rogue's 3rd Reaction, Response

Reaction

I'm usually not this forthcoming but I'll make an exception. I'll begin by letting you know that it seems like I'm starting to forgive you. Furthermore, I've retained what you wrote and processed (most) of it and redecorated a bit. I almost included a portion of the article to prove that I got rid of it, but you'll have to trust me on that. Perhaps these letters are therapeutic as you've stated and cathartic. However, let me pivot for a moment. I know I have no right to this next question but I'm going to ask anyway: what's going on at the mansion? I'm not asking for X-Men secrets or anything of that sort, just a random story or two. Preferably one with Bobby at the forefront.

Alone in her room, Rogue reread his opening paragraph a few times because it shocked her that John Allerdyce was open-minded rather than hard-headed. Nevertheless, the evidence was before her in black ballpoint pen ink by his own hand. She wondered why he was requesting a story. She'd tell him one, but why even ask? Was he missing the mansion chaos? Was he lonely? Or was he trying to lighten up the tone from here on out? Or all of the above?

Are the tables turning? But let's be crystal clear. For you. I don't regret my decision. Sure, my bedroom is bland and small, but I don't have to share it.

Her eyes narrowed and she snorted, unconvinced. She didn't quite believe that he had absolutely no regrets. Undoubtedly, he had more freedom with his X-Gene gift, but having to watch your back constantly surely must be tiresome.

You say you're not comfortable. We'll let's spin that around. Do others avoid you? Have I ever flinched in your presence? I know the answer to that like I know the back of my hand. I didn't twitch in your presence even after the shit that went down on Bobby's porch. I was mostly livid more than anything else, but—and it's a big one—I'm letting that go as I've stated at the beginning of this letter.

Rogue thought long and hard. A nagging feeling tugged at her. 'He's right and you know it,' the thought of an imprint entered her mind. Unengaging, she ignored it. Bias played a part because naturally, that imprint would side with its origin, but that authentic feeling remained despite internal logical reasoning. Rogue looked at her gloved left hand as the other held the letter. Then her gaze trailed up the length of her covered arm. She hated dressing like she had an allergy to the sun while indoors and out. A few heartbeats later, in a sudden burst of disgust and frustration, she pulled off the left glove using her teeth. No one was around where her exposed skin could brush against theirs; she could let her guard down. But that couldn't stop the claustrophobia that crept along her covered upper limbs. Setting the letter down, Rogue stood and pulled off her dark green long-sleeved skin-hugging top. Sighing in relief as she removed the other glove, she felt liberated. John's imprint entered her mind once again, 'Feels good. Doesn't it?' Rogue rummaged through the closet she shared and chose a brown v-neck babydoll milkmaid top with short sleeves that she'd borrow. New territory and uncharted waters called for a clean slate, shedding life-long insecurities. This was a start. She checked her reflection in the mirror as a smile split her lips. The top's short hem momentarily revealed a portion of Rogue's abdomen as she adjusted her hair. After a few short steps, she picked the letter up as she stood and continued reading.

PS: I must know: what does my imprint say to you? And are they an exact clone of me or nothing like me at all?

Automatically she decided not to tell him about the latest statements, refusing to stroke his ego; it was big enough already.

PPS: This may be so off base but are you able to quiet any of the imprints? Like mentally put them in a soundproof box? I bet it's possible. You're strong in every way that counts. Don't let them make you think otherwise.

'Hmm,' she thought, 'they kind of just come and go but I definitely should inquire about that.' Admittedly, she never perceived herself as strong but she'd survived Magneto and Jason and countless other things in her young life before her x-gene manifested. Rogue rotated halfway to view her reflection again. Did she see the strong woman John believed her to be?

Response

It's not a long story, but it's the first one that popped into my head and it's right up your alley. A hornet stung Bobby so he runs back into the mansion asking what to do. We all tell him to make mud. His face goes blank and he says, "How do you make mud?" All seven of us busted out laughing while he was in discomfort. By all means, it wasn't intentional but it was just so damn funny. To this day, he's still mocked for it every so often, but I have never taken part.

The imprints are kind of like extra consciousnesses that speak clearly instead of in fragments or riddles as you might expect. Sometimes they comment on the gossip that buzzes through the mansion or give their two cents. Surprisingly, yours is down to earth and provides reason and sound advice. Before today I would've said that he's nothing like you, but I believe I'm starting to see the real you rather than the 'I don't care about anything' front you portrayed at Xavier's Institute. You sold yourself short then too, thinking you were alone and no one cared about you. You easily wedged yourself under their skin (on purpose) for unknown reasons to this day. I spent a long time mulling it over but never landed on a concrete reason. Your imprint doesn't show off either but he likes to be front and center and shoos the other imprints away. It's endearing, truthfully. He's the self-appointed gatekeeper or guardian. Perhaps he knows they tend to give me a headache, but I think it's because he doesn't care to hear what they have to say, like every word they speak is just endless annoying radio static

I haven't attempted to silence any of them. Thanks for the idea. I'll definitely run with it. 'Misery loves company' but in my case, that's an unequivocal no. I need a big mental sign in there that reads Stay Out! No Occupancy.

Strength can be defined in many ways other than physicality. I'm not sure why I never saw that in myself before today. You gave me lots to think about and I'm grateful. You're growing. I will too. Embrace the evolution, John Pyro Allerdyce!

~ Rogue ~