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Chapter 24 of
A Simple Favor:
On June 2nd 2002, 9:27 pm EST, Rogue sat in the Lexus's front passenger seat, sipping her soft drink out of the straw as Magneto drove through the gates and into the Institute's grounds. She was glad that the caffeine was helping her to stay awake. Reaching into the paper bag on her lap, she pulled out a fry. This time she didn't bother offering Max any. He'd made his opinion very clear. But after retrieving the car, they only really had time for fast food and he had insisted on feeding her. Even if eating was the last thing on her mind. Sleep sounded much more alluring.
As they drove up to the front of the institute, there was the Professor waiting for them, just outside the front doors, which were propped wide open. The passenger-side window was even rolled down for Prof and the inevitable conversation he would attempt to have with Max. Rogue was a little relieved that Logan wasn't standing there with him. If he wasn't mad at her before, he definitely would be now with how Magneto had ditched him that morning in the tunnel.
"Hey, Prof," she said, opening the car door, before yawning.
"Good evening, Rogue," he said pleasantly, as his eyes trailed down to the bag of fast food she held in one hand and the soft drink she restricted with the other. "You skipped dinner again?" he asked, his eyebrow arching.
"Nope, I got it right here," she smiled weakly as she shook the bag. "Just haven't had a chance to eat yet," she said as she stepped out of the vehicle.
"Or," the Professor started as she pressed her backside against the door to give it a nudge and allowed magnetism to do the rest, closing the door behind her. "There are leftovers from dinner in the kitchen. Ororo cooked," he said and she felt her stomach growling.
Maybe she was hungry. Ororo's cooking sounded more appetizing than the greasy hamburger she had planned to eat.
"Max," he said, looking past her and into the open window. "You're welcome to join us. There's plenty," he offered. Rogue cocked her head slightly, Max actually looked like he was considering it. She thought he'd take off as soon as he dropped her off.
"That tea you mentioned last time, might I impose on your hospitality for a cup?" Max asked. She was glad he was using the accent, at least.
"I'll put up the kettle. Just park over there, please," he said, pointing toward the right side. Max promptly nodded and the car started to move to the Professor's designated area. "Are you alright?" he asked, his tone slightly hushed.
"Yeah, it's just been a long day," she answered, before yawning. The nap had only helped a little. She felt jet lagged more than anything. "Maybe I'll have some tea too," she considered aloud as Max finished parking the vehicle.
"I have some chamomile on hand. I find it quite soothing before bed," he offered as they watched Max exit the car.
"I don't think I'm gonna need any help falling asleep tonight," she said.
"Yes, I can see that," he said, his voice laced with worry as he turned to reenter the institute.
On June 2nd 2002, a little past 9:30 pm, Magneto unceremoniously dropped the mostly uneaten bag of fast food into the garbage can, hidden within a cabinet in Xavier's kitchen. He felt a bit of mild disgust with himself at his lack of foresight. He regretted failing to check in with Charles after they returned to New York. He could have either asked for some additional time to take Anna-Marie out for a proper dinner, or perhaps a hot meal could have been waiting for them both upon their arrival.
Charles's back was turned to them, as he filled the kettle with water and Rogue had walked over, a little too zombie-like for his taste, to the window nook and deposited herself onto the soft cushioned space. She grabbed a throw pillow and put it between her head and wall, as she pulled her feet off the floor, dangling her shoes off the edge of the nook. She closed her eyes as he shut the cabinet and- she was out once again, or would be shortly.
Perhaps, Rogue would partake in a three am dinner after all. He wasn't about to rouse her a second time. Not when she so obviously needed to rest. Magneto glanced back behind him and saw Charles was moving toward the stove now, kettle in hand, his back still turned.
He'd never changed his physical appearance in front of Charles and he wanted to correct that fact now, before he rebuilt the Rebirth Machine. Magneto swiftly unzipped his leather jacket, peeling it off of himself and, with his abilities, altered the setting on his Image Inducer, all in the few short moments it took Charles to turn on the stove. By the time he felt his old friend's chair facing their direction, Magneto stood in only a dark blue turtleneck as he draped the coat over Rogue's shoulders. She nestled against the pillow, getting more comfortable with the addition of a make-shift blanket.
"Max, could I ask you for a favor?" Charles asked.
Magneto felt a smirk tugging at his lips as the room was utterly silent waiting for his reply. He forced his expression to drop before he stood up straight and turned to face his old friend.
"Of course, Professor Xavier," he answered.
"Mugs are just up there," Charles said, pointing at a particular cabinet he was sitting in front of. In a few short strides, he was next to Charles, opening and retrieving two mugs.
"Should I grab the tea, as well?" Magneto asked, as he handed the mugs to his friend.
"That would be most helpful, thank you," Charles replied, offering nothing more. Magneto briefly considered asking where the tea was. Instead, he made a show of opening each cabinet in his way until he made it to the one, furthest away from the stove, which held the tea. "You could have asked," he remarked, as if the telepath had read his previous thought. With his cap of magnetic fibers adorning his skull, he knew that wasn't the case.
"Professor Xavier, we both know, you think I shouldn't have to," he said as he brought over a can that said; Earl Grey, back over to Charles. "This is your home, I'd rather not offend you anymore than necessary," he said, offering him the can in his hand, which was promptly taken.
"If you're adamant in denying my suspicions, you may as well act the part," Charles replied.
"Am I not?" Magneto asked, titling his head, holding the man's gaze before he faked a sigh, breathing out heavily. "It doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head. "You're settled in your beliefs and the reason I accepted your invitation this evening won't do me any favors in that regard," he said.
"What reason would that be, Max?" Charles asked curiously. Magneto opened his mouth to answer before the kettle went off, a loud high-pitched filling the room. "Please sit," he said, his hand gesturing toward the table. "I'll join you in a moment with our tea," he said.
On June 2nd 2002, Rogue's stirred awake from the sound of a loud-pitched noise. Her eyes fluttered open as she saw the Professor moving toward the stove and Max was walking toward the table. Max's eyes focused on her, his path changing as he headed toward her.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice sounded so worried, as the loud-pitched noise ceased. Why did both of them look so worried? Didn't they realize she'd barely slept in the past forty-eight hours? She was home now, she could finally rest, someone would carry her to bed. She wasn't worried. She could let herself-
"Just tired," she muttered, all she could manage to say aloud.
"Are you hungry?" the Professor asked.
"Yeah" she sighed. "But I wanna-" she said, as her eyes closed and…
On June 2nd 2002, Magneto sat at the table, Charles across from him, both of them with a mug filled with tea in front of them. The Earl Grey required some milk and Charles had collected that ingredient himself, before pouring a splash of milk into both of their cups. This was, of course, after Rogue had woken up, however brief that was.
"Sugar?" Charles asked.
"Why not?" Magneto replied, with a forced polite smile.
"Pardon me a moment. It appears I forgot a spoon," Charles commented, as his hand moved to the joy-stick that controlled his chair's movements.
"Which drawer?" Magneto asked.
Charles's hand slipped from the joy-stick as he answered, "third to the left from the stove."
Magneto truly was worried about Anna-Marie's health, which was why, with a wave his hand, the drawer opened and a single spoon was levitated into the air and floated across the room to Charles's hand.
"Thank you, Magnus," he said, with an air of superiority that made him want to stuff the metal utensil down his smug friend's throat. Instead, he simply watched him deposit two scoops of sugar into both of their cups.
"It's Max," he said forcefully.
"Magnus, please," Charles sighed, glancing up at him. "You've admitted this much already. Can't that be the end of it?" he asked.
"No, because it isn't the truth," he lied.
"Then what is?" Charles asked, exacerbated.
"Rogue over extended herself while using my powers this morning," he admitted and watched the color drain from Charles face.
He placed his hand on his temple for a brief moment before asking, "Is she alright?" The tea was pushed aside, forgotten.
"It caused a nosebleed," he said, doing the same. "Anna-Marie said she was fine and she was most of the day until we finished our task," he explained as Charles moved out from the table and angled his chair in Rogue's direction. "Once she had the option to sleep, it's been difficult for her to stay awake," he said, watching as Charles moved toward Rogue. "I'm concerned," he said as he stood.
"You're concerned!" he exclaimed, turning back to look at him. "I'm responsible for her and you-" he said- before cutting himself off to let out a groan of frustration. "This is the last time you're taking her from here, for hours on end, doing god's knows what," he asserted firmly, before the door to the kitchen opened as Wolverine ran into the room.
"Chuck?" he asked. His nostrils flared, and Magneto knew that the man could smell him-
'No, it's the blood residue.' he realized as the feral man looked ready to unleash his claws right there.
"Logan, I apologize, but Rogue needs to borrow your healing factor," he said.
Good, that was very good. If there was any internal damage, Wolverine's powers would make short work of it. The girl would be fine and he'd steer clear of the institute for a while. Give Charles a chance to calm down. Rogue would understand why their dinner and conversation would have to be delayed and by the time he reappeared his physique would match the newest version of the narrative. Everything would be fine.
"What he'd do to her?" the shorter man growled, as he marched over to Rogue, leaning down by her side, on the window nook. He wasn't taking his eyes from Magneto as he did.
"I'm afraid Rogue may have unintentionally injured herself," Charles replied, which did nothing to stop the bestial growl leaving the other man as he cupped Anna Marie's cheek.
A few seconds stretched longer than they ought. The Canadian mutant pulled his hand back with a curse, staring at it. "Chuck," he said, alarmed. "Her powers ain't working," he said.
"What?" Magneto asked, nearly as dumbstruck. No, no, that couldn't be right. She just used her gifts on him and Mesmero this morning. Why wouldn't they work now? Had she hurt herself that severely?
"Bring her immediately," Charles ordered. Wolverine was quick to comply, scooping her into his arms; the leather coat falling to the floor. Magneto felt himself holding his breath as Rogue failed to stir from being lifted from the window nook. "Hank," he said, putting his hand at his temples, as Wolverine started to rush toward the exit. Magneto doubled back for his coat, and only because his cell phone was in his pocket. "Meet us in the entrance way, now," he ordered and Magneto followed after them, walking through the hallway of the institute back to the main lobby.
"What's wrong?" Beast asked, as he ran down the stairs, joining them.
"We don't know," the Professor said as continued, down into the next hallway, where the elevator was. Beast rushed ahead to call for it and Magneto gave the elevator a bit of help, ensuring it arrived within moments of them getting to the door. "But we may need to run a series of tests on Rogue," he said as Charles, Beast and Wolverine, carrying Rogue, piled into the lift.
As Magneto put a single foot into the elevator, the growl that left Wolverine was even more beastly and he hesitated. Not out of fear, but rather guilt.
"Logan, it's fine. I may have questions for Max that he will answer," Charles said strongly.
"Very well," Magneto readily agreed as he got into the lift and the door closed. The elevator descended quickly, Magneto was making sure of that, as his eyes were on the girl, laying in Wolverine's arms. The only reason he didn't panic was due to the fact that she was breathing steadily and her expression wasn't pained. Actually, she looked rather relaxed as she had in the sphere during their journey back to New York from Tibet while she napped. 'Good heaven, please just let her be tired,' he thought anxiously as the doors to the elevator opened.
The four men rushed down the hallway and into the infirmary. Wolverine didn't need to be told where to put her, there was the bed she's occupied for well over a week now and he gently placed her back upon it.
"Alright, let's start with-"
Everyone in the room, including himself, froze at the sound of Rogue letting out a little groan. They all watched transfixed as Anna-Marie turned onto her side, nestling into the pillow.
"Rogue?" the Professor asked. They all held their breath, waiting for her to react.
"Anna-Marie?" Magneto asked next, stepping a step toward the bed.
"Max, it's bright, turn the light off," she muttered with a slight irritation in her voice. Without hesitation, he used magnetism to flip the switch rendering the room in darkness, save for the machine on standby. "Thanks," she said as her body shivered. Magneto walked up to the bed, taking the blanket that was bunched up at the end and draped it over Anna-Marie's body. Even in the dark, he saw a small smile gracing her face, stretching her muscles, before she curled up under the covers and she began to snore softly.
"Is it a possibility she's just extremely fatigued?" Beast asked.
"Perhaps," Charles said, his tone a mix of relief and anger as he gestured all four of them out of the room.
"Then why ain't her powers working?" Wolverine asked, once they were in the hallway. Beast was closing the door behind them. Magneto focused on that for a moment as he-
He lifted his head, looking at Charles as it hit him.
"Anna-Marie called me, but I was in the middle of a crisis, and we've been on the move all day, she never got the chance to tell me why. We made plans for dinner next Saturday, to rectify the situation. She was so tired, I told her it could wait," Magneto explained.
"Tired from doing what, Max?" Charles asked.
"I'm not entirely certain," he answered vaguely.
"Magneto, enough," Charles exclaimed, his anger evident.
'Anna-Marie is fine,' he reminded himself. "That is not my name," he said, looking back at the man. He watched Charles take a deep breath, folding his hands in his lap.
"You're simply another mutant who can control magnetism. It's all just a big coincidence, is it?" Charles asked, mockingly, his cadence barely concealing his frustration.
"Nothing coincidental about it, Professor," Magneto answered, holding his old friend's gaze. "Do you remember when Anna-Marie told us her skin had been itching?" he asked, shifting focus back to where it belonged. Charles' eyes widened.
"She's gained control over her powers?" he asked, astonished.
"Rogue can control her abilities?" Beast echoed. "Why, that's wonderful!" The revelation did nothing to ease Wolverine's temperament.
"Yes, I believe so. But Anna-Marie can answer that for herself tomorrow," he said before turning to leave. "I've imposed upon your hospitality long enough. I won't do so again for some time," he said coldly, walking to the elevator.
"Nor, are you taking her from here," Charles dictated as Magneto walked toward the elevator. "I meant that, Max," he spat, bile in his tone. At least the charade would continue. He considered a moment, should he argue with Charles, but thought better of it.
'No, that's Rogue debate to win,' he decided as he pushed the button and the elevator's doors opened.
"Goodnight, Professor," he said, maintaining that calm, measured tone as he got back into the lift. He could feel Logan's claws ready to spring, just under the skin. Knowing they were there made certain he knew that they were nowhere near him.
"Gute Nacht, Mr. Eisenhardt," Charles uttered through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed, as the doors to the elevator slid together in front of him.