8 February

To Forget. –v. 1. to cease or fail to remember; be unable to recall 2. to omit or neglect unintentionally 3. to leave behind unintentionally; neglect to take 4. to omit mentioning; leave unnoticed 5. to fail to think of; take no note of 6. to neglect willfully; disregard or slight 7. to cease or omit to think of something

Rogue was dressed in her mutant best, making her way from her bedroom to the Danger Room in the lower levels of the mansion. Ororo had asked her to set aside time for another special training session so that she could learn hand-to-hand. Usually, that also involved the blue team's leader, Nightcrawler. Storm would merely direct from the outskirts as Nightcrawler pushed Rogue around, match after match.

His words echoed in her head, over and over: "You can't be afraid of who you are. It's time you take off your own gloves and decide what you mean to this team." And then, when she'd failed to perform, he'd pushed her further. "If you know the limits of your powers, you'll feel more confident in yourself."

The X-Men weren't afraid of Rogue. Rogue was afraid of Rogue. That sentiment was finally getting through Rogue's self-pitying mind. She didn't try as hard as she could have because she was afraid. She was afraid of hurting others. Yet, on Sunday, Nightcrawler had proven to Rogue that not everything about her powers was bad. He'd revived shortly after the training session, where she'd tried her best to mimic his style with his powers. No more worse from the wear than before her touch.

Maybe the X-Men were trying to help. And succeeding.

While the realization didn't immediately flip Rogue's view upside-down, she did try and let it boost her mood and confidence. She walked boldly down the hallway with her chin up and her shoulders square. She was going to prove that she was worth having on the team. Today. With Storm and Nightcrawler.

The halls were otherwise fairly vacant except for another pair of mutants leaving the rec room. Rogue immediately recognized Warren, his wings unmistakable. Beside him, Alison. Rogue offered Alison a friendly smile as they passed. If she could prove to Storm that she could be a part of the team, Alison would be able to see it soon, too. Unfortunately, Alison didn't return the smile. In fact, she sent a sneer following after Rogue's receding form. Warren didn't seem to notice at all, and continued chatting about whatever it was they were talking about as Ally threw daggers with her eyes.

The simple exchange was enough to deflate Rogue's spirits back to where they'd been over the weekend. Alison could have plenty of reasons to hate Rogue. They'd accidentally touched and Rogue violently acquired her. Rogue may have ruined her friendship with Anne. Perhaps, with Rogue's hesitation in the capture the flag simulation, Alison pinned the blame on their team losing on Rogue. Maybe it even had to do with Remy, as Rogue accepted the Cajun's explanation and Alison obviously didn't like him. Or it could be as simple as she didn't think Rogue was pulling her own weight in the red team.

She tried to block it all out, concentrate on Storm's and Nightcrawler's encouragements, but the negative thoughts fed into Rogue's insecurities. No one actually wanted Rogue around.

When the doors to the Danger Room opened, two people already waited for Rogue inside. Storm stood strongly in the center of the room, but instead of having Nightcrawler beside her, Banshee took his place. It almost felt like another slap to her face. Was Kurt also avoiding Rogue?

"Are you ready?" Storm asked as Rogue walked up. "This will be the same concept as what we've been working on with Nightcrawler, but Banshee will be filling in for him."

"Make no mistake, lass. I may not be as slimy as Nightcrawler, but ye don't wanna be underestimatin' me," Sean warned her lightheartedly.

"He's not avoidin' me, is he?" Rogue asked. She couldn't help it. Too many coincidences were stacking up against her now that her powers were being exercised.

Sean laughed. "No, not at all! He brought his team outside for a snowball fight! Him'n Iceman against Gambit'n Psylocke, if I understood correctly. Ah, but what a brutal battle that'll be."

"It is not a bad idea," Storm commented slyly. "But I declined participation on the basis that I would like to walk for the rest of the week. The snow is Iceman's element, and Nightcrawler and Gambit are far too competitive for me to handle.

"Now, we must get to work. Cyclops has the Danger Room booked for dusk. We do not have very long."

Banshee sidestepped away from Storm and fell into a natural defensive pose. "Ye get first move, lass," he told her.

Rogue hesitated. She was used to Nightcrawler jumping in heads first, forcing her to think fast lest she get whapped upside the head. He was focusing on self-defense, not attack. Trying her best to think ahead, assess Banshee's vulnerabilities, she ran forward, fist ready to strike at her side. She came in hard and wide. Banshee took the window of opportunity, ducked and sidestepped, and threw two quick punches to her exposed middle. Rogue brought her freehand up too late, missed her follow through step, and nearly crashed to the ground. Banshee rounded her doubled over form, staying beside her.

"You will need better speed to pull that one off," Storm commented.

Rogue growled and spun, using the momentum from her misstep to aid in the move. She adjusted her weight distribution on the fly, swinging out her leg for a kick. Banshee caught her rather than sidestepping her, as Kurt would. Holding on to her leg, he swept his own underneath her and sent her crashing to the floor.

"That was quite good," he said to her brightly.

She grumbled from the floor.

"No, really! I'm impressed with your recovery, love." He held out his hand to help her off the ground. "Let's try again, shall we?"