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Chapter 25 of
A Simple Favor:
On Saturday June 24th 2002, Rogue sat in the common room of the Xavier Institute, as she read from an SAT prep book that Mr. McCoy had provided for her. The school year was officially over and even though she missed so many days of school in the last semester, still she'd advanced to her senior year.
'No need to inquire how that fortunate turn of events occurred,' the copy of Magneto within her mind commented smugly, as he usually did when calling the Professor out for using his abilities in secret, derailing her thought.
Rogue huffed in response. Guiltily, her eyes shot up to glance around the room. Fortunately, only Mr. McCoy was present right now. Even better, he was reading something by Shakespeare, clearly paying her no mind.
The mansion rapidly cleared out for the start of summer break. Most students had the luxury of returning home to their parents for the summer months, and a chance for normalcy. Even Scott had gone to Hawaii for an extended vacation to spend time with his brother.
'I'm just tryna stay off Prof's radar,' she thought, having no intention of vocalizing her knowledge.
'A rather difficult feat when his instructor watches you like a hawk.' Magneto observed as Rogue tried to not fidget with discomfort. She hated it when he stated the obvious. Again.
'Well, if Max hadn't admitted he can control magnetism then they would've backed off by now. They might not've expected a thing' she lamented.
'My counterpart was justifiably concerned for your welfare. He prioritized your health over his desire to preserve the facade you two constructed,' he reminded her as she held in a sigh this time. 'Surely, you can't be angry at him for caring about you.'
'Course, I ain't,' she replied immediately. Honestly, she was touched. It was a huge confession that had- 'It's just- We were barely keeping Prof at bay.'
'Charles is rather hostile whenever my name is spoken, isn't he?' he asked rhetorically. Was there a touch of smugness to the projection's tone?
'And now I don't got a leg ta stand on,' she groaned internally. 'Everyone knows Prof was right. Logan can't even look at me anymore, he's so pissed. Ororo's spending all her time tryna find Evan. And Mr. McCoy's my own personal bodyguard. I think the only reason I haven't been kicked out is-'
'Charles is not an inherently cruel man, my dear,' he interjected. He seemed so confident in his assessment, but there was a pit in her stomach that wouldn't go away. Like she was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
'Rogue, you have a home here with the X-Men. Despite this one blemish, you have served Charles well, and even saved his life on more than one occasion. That won't be forgotten so easily,' the part of Magneto within her said in a patient and reminding tone. It was evident in his attempt to assure her as she stared down at her SAT prep book and her gloved hands. She could certainly feel his disdain at that decision of hers.
Even with barely anyone around, she kept them on. It was an obvious announcement to everyone: she didn't wish to appear threatening in any way.
'Though preparing for the future beyond Bayville is hardly a wasted effort. It's one I'd encourage, in fact.' Magneto supplied, an adept conversationalist, and able to swiftly turn the discussion to other, less dangerous topics. Not that she knew how she'd pay for college, even if she did manage to get accepted into any technical school, college, or university. 'One problem at a time,' he advised, a rampart of confidence in her and rock steady serenity. At a loss of what else to do, she took in a long draught of air, expelled it and then took another breath.
'I just- I wish I could talk ta Max. Figure out what his next move is.'
'If my counterpart has any sense, he'll recreate the Rebirth Machine and de-aged himself further. Then he'll claim Magneto as his great uncle. Charles is proven right and you are a paragon of truth,' Magneto said with almost a flippant casualness as she felt a knot twisting in her stomach. Had he thought of this before?
'What happens ta Magneto?' she asked almost hesitantly. Her eyes drifted over to Mr. McCoy again; his gaze was watching her out of the corner of his eye now. He must have heard her breathing heavily. She snapped her's back to her book and turned a page, as if reading it, attempting to maintain her relaxed demeanor.
'He was not the master of magnetism he assumed himself to be. My counterpart and I, to some extent, consider him obsolete,' he huffed. 'He could always reprogram the image inducer, when necessary.'
'Am I really that much more powerful than y'all with magnetism?' she asked skeptically.
'The raw power you've had at your fingertips has been denied to us for decades. decades. Frankly, my dear, no conversation is required. We both know precisely what Max Eisenhardt is up to,' he declared.
'Ya think he's still checking up on Mesmero like we agreed?' Rogue asked.
'Presuming, he hasn't allowed his new found power to go to his head- … It's possible it may have slipped his mind,' Magneto answered realistically.
'Great,' she huffed. 'Not that Mesmero can do anything without me or Max helping him. He ain't gonna find another wielder of magnetism,' she pointed out.
'Unless he contacts…,' he thought before cutting himself off.
'Contacts who?' she asked.
'But the likelihood of that is so… astronomically slim,' he thought, his voice sounding far away, like he was muttering.
'Max?' she asked, forcefully, trying to regain his attention.
'My dear," he started, his voice louder, now speaking directly to her, 'have I ever explained the various applications of magnetism and how to both defend from and attack your opponent utilizing those applications?' he asked.
'No,' she replied, trying to gather if he was changing the subject or preparing her for what he thought might be coming.
'Allow me to remedy that now with some visual aids. I'd like to start on March seventh nineteen-sixty-four,' he said.
Rogue felt the urge to ask about what contact he was referring to, but decided against it. It was going to be a long slow summer. She'd have time to gather information; she may as well start with what he was offering. So, she settled against the couch, her posture relaxed and her eyes intently on the book in her hands, though her actual attention would be drawn inwards and aways from Mr. McCoy and the library.
On July 10th, 2002, Rogue was physically, laying on the couch in the common room, feigning sleep. She did this often, taking a nap in public places, while her consciousness had retreated inwards, a regular occurrence for her these past few weeks. Within the confines of her mind, she stood within Magneto's metal dome; the room they had trained in months prior. It wasn't real, of course, but rather an echo from her own memories. Beside her stood another echo, a fragment, this one in the shape of Magneto, who had elected to appear in his late forties. His six-foot-two frame towered over her five-foot-eight; yet she felt completely relaxed in his company. Actually, he was the only one she felt at ease with anymore.
Magneto waved his hand and the scraps of metal that had been tossed about the room were reformed into a sphere. She watched him widen his stance, as he pulled his arms behind his back, holding one fist within his other. "Again," he ordered.
Rogue took a breath and lifted her hand up; recalling the knowledge of his past use of magnetism, she gathered energy to her palm before releasing it as an electromagnetic ray. The sphere was ripped apart, bit by bit; metal scattered about the room. As pieces flew toward the two of them, she formed a magnetic shield repulsing the debris, protecting them both.
"Well done," he said proudly, with a sly smirk upon his face.
"Thanks," she said, just as she felt her ears ringing. She shook her head, attempting to ignore the strange sensation.
A moment passed while she waited for him to reset the sphere and tutor her on which of his abilities to practice next. As the room began to shake, the foundations of her memory shattered around her, the room melting away into darkness. She turned, frantically searching for Magneto, but his image had shimmered into nothing.
Rogue sucked in a breath as her eyes snapped open. Above her, in the common room, stood Mr. McCoy; he had a hand on her shoulder as he shook her awake.
"Rogue, are you alright?" he asked, a concerned tone in his voice. His face had a worried look upon it.
"Yeah, I- I'm okay," she stuttered, still attempting to regain her composure. 'Max, are ya-'
'Perfectly fine. Put me out of your mind, my girl. Best to focus on who is in front of you,' he advised and she took a quick breath ready to act upon his advice as Mr. McCoy removed his hand.
"Sorry, guess I was really enjoying that nap," she said, attempting to make light of the situation, even as his concerned expression persisted. "Y'all need something?" she asked as she sat up, eager to engage with someone in the real world. Her eyes passed over the window and she realized it was dark out. It was later than she thought; she must have lost track of time in her mind. Her eyes flashed back to Mr. McCoy's ready to hear his reply.
"Dinner is prepared," he said and she quickly got to her feet, expecting the Professor would be waiting for them. She smiled at him, as she started to walk toward the exit, not wishing to delay him any longer than necessary. "About thirty minutes ago, before I came to collect you," he added and she sucked in another breath, determined to keep walking. They were in the hall now, as she marched toward the kitchen, he was behind her a few paces. "You were unresponsive, yet your heartbeat and breathing were steady. It was the strangest phenomenon; like trying to wake the dead."
She froze at that, unsure how to respond, having been caught.
'Transparency, within reason,' Magneto counseled.
"That's 'cause I was practicing my eidetic memory, viewing things from the past," she admitted while also avoiding the entire truth. "Sorry," she repeated guiltily before she forced herself to walk again. As she did, though, her pace slowed. She felt she'd given them another reason to be cross with her. Each step she took felt like she was heading toward a lecture or maybe they'd finally be done and kick her out altogether. "Is Prof mad?" she said, unable to keep herself from turning around to look at him, "I mean, more mad than he's been?" she clarified.
"The Professor isn't home," Mr. McCoy informed her.
'Thank god,' she thought, relieved as she turned to start walking again.
'That doesn't mean Beast won't report the incident,' Magneto pessimistically interjected.
'Mr. McCoy's covered for me before,' she thought as they passed the main lobby.
'That was prior to when Charles was proven right,' Max reminded her.
"Sorry, I kept ya from eating so long," she said aloud, keeping Max's comment in mind. "I hope the food ain't cold or anything," she said, adding to her remorse.
"No need to worry. I left the pot roast in the oven," he said kindly. "With just the two of us, I hoped such a hearty meal might sustain us for a few nights," he said.
Logan had gone for a ride and hadn't returned for weeks now. Rogue doubted she'd see him again before the school year started. Ororo was dedicated to her search of the sewers for Evan. She had felt the urge to offer to help, but given what they all knew about Max, she didn't think it wise to speak up about wanting to leave the mansion for any reason. If asked, she would have jumped at the prospect in a heartbeat. She wanted to be useful, she wanted to feel like an X-Man.
"I don't see why it wouldn't," she said, shrugging as they entered the kitchen, she saw the table wasn't set yet. "Prof's gonna be gone for a while, huh?" she asked as she walked over to a cabinets and retrieved two plates. 'Like everyone else,' she lamented, as she closed the cabinet, with one hand.
"Only a week," he answered, smiling at her as she placed the plates next to him by the stove. Though she noticed he wasn't disclosing anything further and she was prepared to pry. Instead, she fetched two glasses and walked them over to the table, as he grabbed a couple of oven mitts and removed their dinner, housed in the yellow dutch oven, from the oven itself. Next, she collected two forks from the drawer before she paused.
'Pot roast doesn't need knives, right?' she asked.
'If the meat is cooked long enough, no. It should fall apart, as well as the vegetables,' Magneto answered.
'Thanks,' she said, closing the drawer and walking the utensils over to the table.
"Are you making progress with your powers?" he asked curiously, plating their meal as she walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed the pitcher of iced-tea.
"With all the time I've got, yeah, I'm getting a lot of practice in," she said, meeting him at the table; her with the pitcher and him with their plates. She was pouring them both a glass-full as he sat across from her position.
"Well, that certainly sounds productive," he commented, well aware she wasn't offering any more details about her practice sessions than he was about the Professor's excursion. "And how's studying for the SAT's?" he asked next as she sat and glanced down at the plate of pot roast, roasted vegetables and mashed potatoes.
"It kinda took a backseat ta practicing with my powers," she admitted, picking up her fork, shrugging again with a half smile. "I read a good chunk of the prep book ya gave me," she added, piercing a piece of beef, hoping she didn't sound too neglectful from her initial goal for the summer.
"Why don't I proctor a practice test for you tomorrow?" he asked, picking up his fork. "With your eidetic memory, you may not require as much prep work as other students. We'll gauge your current skill set and you can determine what areas, if any, necessitate targeted focus," he said.
"I- I'd really appreciate that, Mr. McCoy," she answered, a genuine smile lighting up her face. "Thank you," she said before taking her first bite
"It's my pleasure," he said, his expression was so kind as he followed suit; though the smile didn't go to his eyes, she noticed. She wasn't sure what she saw there, so she averted her gaze. "And in the future, Rogue, if you're going to retreat into the recesses of your mind, please warn me. Then, I'll know not to worry," he said. That was reasonable, she figured.
"Yeah, I can do that," she promised, nodding.
"Then I think that's all that needs to be said about that. Do you agree?" he asked.
"Ah-huh," she nodded again, relieved he wouldn't make a mountain out of a mole-hill. The last thing she needed was to incur any more distrust among her instructions.
'Ah, yes, such a gracious warden. Charles chose well,' Magneto said. She felt a pit in her stomach intensified, her appetite dissipating instantly. Even still, she forced the smile to stay on her face as she brought the piece of beef to her lips. 'Apologies, Anna-Marie, I didn't mean to upset you. But if there's anything I can't stand, it's disingenuous support,' he said.
'I don't think he's being openly deceitful or anythin',' she pointed out, as she forced a carrot slice into her mouth next. It did taste pretty good. She just wished her stomach would stop twisting itself into knots.
'Compliant prisoners are so much easier to control,' he said as she stabbed at a quartered mushroom. 'That's all I meant by it.'
'This is my home- I ain't-'
'Then you should be allowed to make a phone call unabated,' he pointed out.
'But they view that phone call as a betrayal,' she thought as she chewed. 'I just gotta wait this out,' she thought as she prepped another fork full, getting both some carrot and beef in one bite.
'I'll only point out, my dear, that it's been over a month. I may have been wrong. This treatment should have subsided by now. I honestly thought Charles would've staged a heart-to-heart by now; endeavoring to keep his stolen recruit,' he said.
'Maybe Prof doesn't think I'm worth it anymore,' she thought as she played with her food, sorting through what was on her plate, deciding what to eat next. She hadn't tried the mashed potatoes yet.
'Then he's a fool,' he replied bluntly. The sheer confidence of his statement warmed her on the inside.
'I gotta wait out the summer,' she told herself and him. 'The institute's practically empty and I'm alone most of the time,' she thought as she went for more potatoes. This was delicious. She said as much and was rewarded with a beaming smile from the earnest erudite mutant.
She felt another stab of guilt. 'When you aren't being guarded,' he retorted, it was low, like he had said it under his breath.
'Course things feel weird,' she justified, though it didn't make it feel much better.
'Hence, you'll feel more at ease once the other students return,' Max finished. 'It's only another month or so,' he offered kindly, though there was an undercut to his tone, as if he didn't exactly believe those words himself.
'Yeah, I can- Summers with Irene were pretty lonely too. I just- I thought I was done with those after I came ta the Institute, ya know?' she asked. His response was a soft humming noise of affirmation. 'I had Scott with me last time, that was fun. I- I can wait,' she thought, forcing the knot in her stomach to unravel.
Mr. McCoy was nice, probably the kindest of her instructors. This was her home. She wasn't a prisoner. The Professor felt betrayed. That was all and it would take time to earn back his trust.
'I'm gonna be fine,' as she brought another fork-full to her lips, determined to enjoy her meal.
'Yes, you will be,' Magneto agreed, though she doubted they had the same reasons in mind.
On August 9th 2002, 10:26 am Rogue laid on the couch in the common room, attempting to look at ease. She was actually reading the SAT prep book that morning, in anticipation of her third practice test. She hadn't done as well as she would've liked on the first two. But as Mr. McCoy predicted she now knew what she needed to focus on; Math. Being able to recall formulas perfectly was one thing, but useless if she didn't comprehend how to utilize them to calculate the correct answers.
'Knowledge versus wisdom,' Max had commented. She had the facts, now she needed to learn how to use them to get results. Like anything else, it required training. 'I'm happy to assist you, my dear.'
'Thanks,' she thought, a smile tugging at her lips.
Her expression dropped as Charles Xavier entered the room. Rogue kept her eyes glued to her book. She wouldn't speak unless spoken to, which meant she hadn't really spoken to the Professor much in- … Was it ten nights ago at dinner, when she asked for the bread basket to be passed to her? Had it really been that long since they'd directly addressed a word to one another?
"Hank, could I speak with you privately for a moment?" the Professor asked.
"Of course, Charles," the other man answered immediately.
'It's so weird,' she thought as she heard closing his book and getting up from the recliner. Keep her eyes on the book. 'I have control over my skin, but I've never felt more isolated in my-' she thought as she felt her chest tighten up, a swell of emotion was forming and she couldn't allow it to manifest. She wouldn't have that much time before Mr. McCoy returned, she had to assume, with how close by he always was during her waking hours.
'Once your brother and the other students travel back for the new school year, the mansion will return to normal,' he reiterated, as he had done so many times when her emotions threatened to get the better of her. The more despondent she felt, the more he'd sought to revitalize her resolve. 'Your endurance is a testament to your strength, my girl. And despite their isolating tactic, Anna-Marie, you are not alone and never will be,' he thought strongly. Rogue felt herself take a deep breath. Magneto's steadfast advice had swiftly become her main source of conversation. She was grateful, beyond so. She was fairly sure he alone was keeping her sane. 'Pass this trial and your place as an X-Men shouldn't be questioned again,' he finished.
'I don't know, Max. It kinda feels like it's always gonna be questioned,' she thought.
'Wait out the summer, my dear. If this feeling doesn't fade in September, then perhaps then it would be time to consider making Charles's choice for him and join my Acolytes for your own volition,' he said. Rogue felt herself suck in her breath.
'I know I threatened Prof with that once, but-' she replied, troubled by the thought.
'Breathe, my girl. Regardless of what the future holds, you will endure and find peace,' he said soothingly. 'You're far too resourceful not to,' he added. 'Just breathe, Anna-Marie.' She followed his command, taking several deep breaths, calming herself.
Mr. McCoy returned to the room. His expression was giving her pause; he seemed worried about something.
"Is everything okay?" she asked him, feeling her limbs tense up as she held onto the book tightly in her gloved hands for dear life. God, was this it? Were they kicking her out?
"By the Professor's request, I have a pressing quarry I must address urgently, but there are… complications," he said as he walked further into the room, closer to her.
"Somethin' to do with me?" she asked, before she involuntarily held her breath. Would they really get rid of her before the others came back? Maybe they'd claim she ran away. It wouldn't be the first time she fled a home. The other's would buy it, wouldn't they? Maybe with a little help from the Professor's telepathy, but still the story would be swallowed and in time she would be forgotten.
'Breathe, Anna-Marie,' Magneto advised, as Mr. McCoy stared down at her with pity in his gaze. Rogue felt her lips quiver. This really was it, wasn't it?
"No, no, it doesn't have anything to do with you," he answered in an assuring tone as he took another step forward and sat down next to her. Rogue blinked as an errant tear ran down her face. She finally took that deep breath.
"Sorry, I-" she said as she reached up and swifty wiped her cheeks, her tears being absorbed by the cloth of her gloves.
"It's alright," Mr. McCoy said softly, giving her a moment to collect herself.
'Whatever this is, Charles wants you ignorant to the facts of the matter. The warden has his orders and doesn't know how to be in two places at once,' Magneto supplied. Rogue took another breath and finally turned to look up at Mr. McCoy.
"Where does Prof need ya?" she asked, holding back the urge to sniffle.
"The War Room," he answered, a perplexed look on his face.
"Okay," she huffed, taking another breath as she glanced around the room. Her eyes lingered on the recliner. "Could we bring that downstairs with us?" she asked, pointing at it. "I could spend the day in my head and I won't pay any attention to what you're doing for Prof," she offered.
"An excellent solution to a query I hadn't fully elaborated on," Mr. McCoy agreed jovially as he stood. She was on her feet next as he walked over to the recliner.
"Prof said I was too smart for my own good," she muttered as she crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself, as she watched him lift the piece of furniture over his head.
"That's where Charles and I differ in option," he said as he walked toward the exit. He paused as he maneuvered the chair out into the hallway and she followed after him. "No one should ever feel the need to hide their intellect. Especially one who is on the cusp of furthering their academic career," he said as she trailed after him down the hall, toward the elevator to the sublevels of the institute. "Have you given much thought to your major yet?" he asked.
"I've been thinkin' about political science," she stated for the first time outloud, something she'd only discussed with Max. It was easier with Mr. McCoy, ahead of her. She couldn't see his face or his reaction. "I know we're all worried about coexisting with humanity and the government acting against us. I figured if I understood how they could hurt us, the ins and outs of politics, I might be able to do something about it. There's different kinds of power, ya know?" she asked as they got to the elevator. "And I wanna be able to wield more than just the ones I borrow from other mutants," she finished as he lowered the recliner to the floor.
The hallway, narrow as it was, she couldn't get in front of him to call for the lift. She felt herself holding her breath as Mr. McCoy pressed the button and then turned his head to look at her.
"Rogue," he said, glancing at her with emotion in his eyes she couldn't quite read. "Political science is often the major of choice for those who continue to Law School. Lawyers, judges and politicians, those are the men and women who will determine the laws of the future," he said.
She considered that a moment as the elevator door opened before commenting, "circumstance would've been a lot different for Edmond Dantès if the Judge presiding over the case hadn't've been corrupt and more sympathetic to his plight."
"Indubitably," he said, visibly surprised by her literary reference, before he picked up the recliner and walked backward into the lift. He lowered it to the floor of the elevator, which between the two of them, took up most of the space.
"Want me to ta take the next one?" she asked, doubting he would, but how else would- His expression was kind, as he patted the crown of the recliner and she understood, entering the lift and sitting down in the recliner itself, so they would both fit in a single ride. She had to pull up her knees, hugging them to her chest to ensure the door could close, but they made it work. She was able to lean forward and press the button, taking them below to the sublevels.
On August 9th 2002, a short while later, Rogue was safely back within her mind. She and Mr. McCoy hadn't exchanged many more words after getting in and then off the elevator. The recliner had been set, facing away from the screens Beast would work upon, and she had closed her eyes seeking refuge internally. It didn't take long before she drew up a memory, one of hers; an old field she used to play in when she was kid, back in Mississippi.
She stood in a field of grass and wildflowers of white, yellow, pink and purple hues. There was a light overcast of clouds on the breezy autumn morning she picked; hoodie weather. And appropriately, she chose her red hoodie made of magnetic fibers and dark jeans for her attire. She glanced out across the field; past the telephone poles and their wires that stood before the vast forest; the orange, yellow, red and brown leaves blowing in the wind were a calming, tranquil sight. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, filling her diaphragm up. She couldn't imagine a more perfect moment: enjoying the wind on her face and the scent of fresh flowers and grass and the slightest hint of petrichor in the air.
She sighed in relief as she felt hands on her shoulders. She turned in his arms, looking up at the face of Max Eisenhardt; there was pity in his eyes and spread across his features. Unable to help herself, she wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him tightly. As she did she also pressed her face into his chest. His arms moved in kind, holding her close. It was then she felt the tears coming. Incapable of holding them back a moment longer, she cried against him, here, safe in a memory. His grip tightened, and he said nothing as he held her, he merely let her weep against him.
She wished she could be angry. She was so much more familiar with anger; at her mother for her abandonment and lies; at Irene for her silence all those years and not preparing her for the future, and at the Brotherhood for their shenanigans and ill will towards the X-Men. At herself how she allowed events to play out. If she had just been able to stay awake a little longer on June 2nd, none of this would be happening.
But the Professor had let her into his home, given her a place to live, learn and grow. And as much as she tried to tell herself otherwise, her friendship with Magneto was a betrayal. The Professor's treatment of her, however cruel his silence was, it wasn't unwarranted. She couldn't be mad at him. She was in the wrong, not him, not the X-Men.
Rogue sniffled as she felt a strong hand on her cheek, gently lifting her gaze to his.
"No, my girl, your thoughts only prove to convey Charles's hypocrisy. Remember, he's also entreated me on amicable terms; he offered me tea, the three of us shared a meal and he asked for a game of chess. If friendliness is the crime, then he is guilty on all counts. Charles's anger stems from his lack of comprehension," he explained as she stared into his eyes.
"He's a telepath and feels entitled to know all," he continued, gripping her cheek even tighter. "It's our denial of submission to his gifts that causes his frustration. This childish silence treatment he's subjecting you to, it's a tantrum, nothing more," he said before he tilted her head down slightly and pressed his lips to her forehead. "This has gone on too long. He knows he can't control your mind, so he's trying to break it instead. Anna-Marie. Don't allow him that victory," he advised.
"I'm so tired," she admitted, tears running down her face. She tried to turn her head down and away, but he didn't let her.
"I know," he said, his lips once again against her forehead, she could feel his warm breath against her skin along with his lips. God, she wanted him to-
"And lonely," she confessed, her hands pressed into his red shirt, holding him to her, just as much as he was clinging to her. He smelled so good. How easy it would be to-
"I know," he repeated through gritted teeth, as he remained where he was.
"This is- You're just in my head, right? That wouldn't be real, would it?" she asked, attempting to justify her desires.
"No, but all the same, you'd trade one cage for another and I won't abide by that either," he admitted, almost reluctantly, loosening his grip.
"I don't understand-" Her eyes closed as she felt his lips against her forehead press tighter, as if to catch her attention. It succeeded.
"Anna-Marie, listen to me," he said, pulling her cheek up, forcing her gaze to his. Not that she wanted to look anywhere else. "You are stronger than both Charles and I," he declared as he removed his hands from her body and took a step away from her. "You will survive us both," he said, as he took another step back, just enough to hide his scent among the flowers, removing the temptation and the feel of his skin from her reach.
"Thanks for- I almost-" she said, shaking her head at herself. She wasn't sure what she'd almost done.
"I'll admit, if the laws of this land were shaped by your hand, Anna-Marie Adler, I just might not begrudge myself obeying them," he smirked and she found herself letting out a tear-pained laugh in response.
"I kinda doubt that, Max, but stranger things have happened," she smiled and he chuckled before his expression turned serious again.
"Don't allow Charles or my counterpart to stand in your way, from whatever path you choose to follow. Political science calls to you today and while it does suit you, my girl, don't allow a single conversation during one of the most desperate hours of your young life to dictate the rest of it," he counseled and she found herself nodding along before she took a deep breath. "Striving for balance is in one's best interest. Have you sought balance this summer?"
"No," she cried out, like the answer had been pulled from her very soul. "And I am so tired of studying, forcing myself ta be productive."
"Then what do you want to do?" he asked.
"Go outside, really go outside," she answered, she could hear the desperation in her own voice.
"And what's stopping you?" he asked, leaning forward slightly, as he pulled his hands behind his back. She had to wonder if he was stopping himself from- She took another breath.
"Prof wants Mr. McCoy with me, at all times, so they know I ain't calling ya," she answered.
"And despite their preferences, is there anything physically keeping you from leaving the mansion?" he asked.
"No," she said, shaking her head.
"You're not a prisoner, Anna-Marie, no matter how much Charles has strived to force you into that role. So, stop acting like one," he said firmly.
Then she was alone. Standing in the middle of that field made of memory and dream, Rogue watched the leaves swirl around her. And she thought.
On August 9th 2002, nearly noon, Rogue floated on her back in the pool, in the backyard of the Institute. She was enjoying so much of the entire sensation: the feel of the hot summer sun on her face and the cool embrace of the chlorinated water that surrounded her. But the best was the weightless sensation she was relishing, so similar to flying through the air. Of all the powers she ever got to experience, flight had to be the most thrilling. Alone in her mind, she could also enjoy the fact that she was as brazenly bare outdoors as she could recall in any memory of hers.
Rogue was completely unbothered by the tiny outfit she was in. So what if she didn't own a bathing suit? Kitty had an extra suit, a white and purple bikini she hadn't packed. She knew her former roommate wouldn't mind. Not when she'd have it washed and returned to its proper place before the other's returned. Honestly, no one would ever know. And yes, she was nearly spilling out of the top, but it wasn't like there were any boys at the institute to ogle her.
'Only a man,' she thought perturbed as she glanced backward to see the Professor rolling toward the pool; he looked upside down from her perspective. She shoved that thought away as fast as it came up.
She took a deep breath and tucked her legs into the air before she submerged herself completely into the water, before he could make it up to the pool. She let herself sink to the bottom, sitting crossed legged at the bottom of the five foot end. Glancing up, as she held her breath, the Professor's shimmering silhouette above the water's surface, air bubbles escaping her nose as she stalled.
Nearly half depleted of air, she kicked up from the floor and swam toward the ladder. She gasped as she emerged.
"Enjoying your swim?" he asked, his tone unamused.
"I was," she said dryly as she grabbed onto the ladder and pulled herself out of the pool.
"No need to stop on my account," he said, his tone openly hostile.
"It's your pool, Professor, if you don't want me ta use it, what choice do I got?" she asked as she walked over to where her towel was. She felt his eyes traveling over her body and she knew it wasn't sexual in nature, rather he was taking stock of just how much of her deadly skin was on display. He couldn't control her. It really would be easier for her to attack him… if she wanted to.
"I haven't used it all summer and you haven't spoke ta me in how many days?" she pointed out, as she picked up the towel, her back now turned to him. "The second I take a dip and now you're out here talkin' ta me," she said as she wrapped it around her body. She folded the top of the towel into itself, but knew she would need to keep a hand holding onto it to keep it in place, leaving her with only one free hand. "What's a girl ta think?" she asked him as she spun around to look at him, her short hair flipping with her, casting a thin net of water in her wake.
"I'm incapable of knowing what you think, Rogue," he said, his hand noticeably holding onto his chair's joy-stick, as if he meant to flee from her.
"Ya ain't exactly an open book either, Professor," she retorted.
"Yes, and who's fault is that?" he asked.
"I'm pretty sure a couple of months ago, you would've said it was yours," she reminded him. "Remember Mesmero, how he was tryna enter my mind and why I thought it was you," she exclaimed.
"And do you recall the reason why I forsook rest and traversed the maze, night after night? How I thought he was threatening you, how I thought you didn't have a choice," he hissed back.
"Yeah, ya only thought that 'cause ya never even talked ta me about it," she shouted. "And once ya did, I set the record straight," she said. Her fingers gripped the towel tightly.
"Partially," he interjected and she felt herself rolling her eyes. "Max Eisenhardt is Magneto; do you deny it?" he asked.
"Have I ever?" she yelled, placing her free hand on her hip, resting against the cloth of the towel.
"You've certainly tried to hide it," he said pointedly.
"Why?" throwing her free hand up in annoyance. "'Cause I didn't tell ya what Max's powers were. I wanted him ta answer that question for himself," she said.
"That introduction was under false pretenses and you know it," he claimed, now pointing at her with his left pointer finger.
"All he was there ta do was pick me up," she exclaimed, her eyes narrowing. "You're the one who lined up your staff and practically threw a uniform at him. Y'all didn't have ta talk ta him. You choose to," she yelled. "Besides, it's Max's life. What he tells anyone about himself is up ta him, not me," she countered.
The Professor let out an aggravated groan, before he dismissively said, "we're talking in circles."
"Are we? Or maybe you just ain't listening," she suggested, her hand back on her hip.
"And if I were, what would you have to say for yourself?" he asked.
"I. Ain't. Gonna. Call. Max," she said forcefully, practically spitting out each word. "And if you're gonna kick me out cause he's my friend, just get it over with already. I'm tired of ya jerking me around," she declared.
"Do you wish to leave?" he asked. His eyes narrowed and she felt like they were going to keep drifting apart if she didn't get him to understand her point of view, and how his behavior affected her.
"No!" she exclaimed, stomping her foot on the ground and watched his eyes widen in response. "No matter how unwelcomed you've tried ta make me feel," she added bitterly. "I wanna finish up my senior year with Kurt and figure out where I'm gonna go to college," she said. "And while I appreciate all of Mr. McCoy's help with SAT prep, I needed a damn break today and some space," she said. "So, can I go back in the pool or are ya gonna keep having me watched like a damn hawk?" she asked and she watched his grip on his joystick loosen.
He didn't give her an answer immediately, and her frustration flared again.
"I'm done walking on eggshells around y'all. If I don't gotta place here anymore, just tell me already," she demanded.
"And give you leave to rejoin Magneto?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
"With the way you've been treating me, if that's what I wanted, don't ya think I would've done it already?" she asked him. She watched him sit up straight as his narrowed gaze softened slightly. "Don't forget, Prof, even with whatever it is you think I've done; You. Betrayed. Me. First. You're the one who read my mind without asking. But I forgave you," she reminded him strongly. "Now, the summer's almost over and things either gotta go back ta the way they were, or you gotta kick me out. I ain't just here for you and I don't wanna go anywhere," she reiterated once again, stomping her foot for good measure.
"Am I an X-Men or not?" she continnued. "Am I welcomed here or not? Make up your damn mind so both of us can deal with your decision," she said strongly as she turned away from him. She pulled the towel from her body, dropping it unceremoniously onto the chair she had first stored it on. "Cause this is one home I ain't running away from. Y'all are gonna have ta drive me out," she promised vindictively before she raised her arms and dove cleanly into the pool, relishing the feel of water all around her and glad she'd ended the conversation on her terms.
As she emerged to the surface, taking a breath as she did, she noticed the Professor had turned and was making his way back into the Institute.
'It seems he's not ready to make a decision as of yet,' Magneto commented smugly. 'Charles doesn't do well with those he can't control; women in particular,' he stated.
'I can tell there's a story ta go along with that comment, but no offense, sugar, I ain't in the mood to hear it,' she told him honestly. The pool's temperature felt good on her body, but her temper was not yet quelled.
'My knowledge is yours for the taking or to willfully ignore,' he replied.
'Yup,' she thought as she floated on her back, determination filling her. She would return to the relaxing state she'd enjoyed before the Professor came to speak with her. She was done with drama for the day, she hoped. For now, she was going to enjoy the pool and her day.
She was going to relax.