From the other side by LeeMinKyo
Summary: Life at Xavierīs School is not good enough for Rogue anymore. Maybe the bad guys are not that bad, and maybe the Brotherhood is what she needs to get what she wants.
But, can she be happy now that Logan is on the other side of this battle? And, why is she having nightmares about becoming Phoenix?
Categories: X1 Characters: None
Genres: Adult, Angst, Drama, Shipper
Tags: None
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 2 Completed: No Word count: 6912 Read: 3842 Published: 01/21/2011 Updated: 01/26/2011
Story Notes:
I had realized there are few fanfic about Rogue joining the Brotherhood, but I think it can be very interesting to develop a plot where Logan and Rogue relationship changes once they are on different sides of the same battle. Donīt you think bad guys are sexy? Well, bad girls can be sexy too. *wink*

1. Chapter 1 by LeeMinKyo

2. Chapter 2 by LeeMinKyo

Chapter 1 by LeeMinKyo
Author's Notes:
THANKS TO: my wonderful and hard-working beta Tornado_ali, who always gives her magical touch to my crap and turns it into something good. Sheīs like the Fairy Godmother for this Spanish Cinderella. This fanfic wouldnīt exist without her. All my love to you! Half of the reviews should go to her!
Rogue wasnīt the type of girl to get moody and angry without reason. Really. Others might disagree, but she was always a pretty quiet person. Getting angry, unless youīre fighting, is simply not that useful. Even if you have every reason to be, anger fixes nothing.

So, yeah. She didn’t get angry often. When she did, she hid it well.

Problem was, she was getting very angry right now. Hearing Xavier say once again that the junior team wasnīt ready for a new mission did that to her. By now, she should have been used to his over-protective side and all his crap but it had yet to happen. Every time he was like this – and, oh God, it was too often – she wanted to shake him until he realized that wars donīt distinguish between soldiers’ ages.

Then again, could he even admit that a war was heading their way? Of course fucking not.

She rolled her eyes, trying to calm down enough to hide her feelings. Rogue, she reminded herself. You respect this man, and you need to show that respect. She tried to remind herself how much the man had done for her. This method had calmed her down before, but it was getting less and less effective with each day’s passing.

“I understand what youīre saying, Professor. But you will need more people this time.”

“This will not be a real fight, Rogue. We need not outnumber them.”

She snorted at his words. He always said that too, but the truth was, every time they went out on a mission there *was* a fight, and FOH wasnīt as kind as he would like to believe. Manners and discussions werenīt part of their language. We were monsters to them, and they desired nothing more than to erase our existence from the face of the planet.

And truth be told, she wanted to do the same to them. Hence her desire to accompany the X-Men on a mission.

Everyone was staring at her, affronted by the way she was speaking to the Professor, endlessly surprised that she was so eager to fight the bad guys. She was used to that too. They could be so frustratingly idealistic, always believing they could beat the bad guys without ever fighting dirty. Sometimes she laughed inside because they reminded her of a hippie commune -- make love and not war, and all that crap.

“Youīre planning on raiding a place thatīs used to hold and torture mutants, and you donīt want harm anyone? Do you really think they will let you destroy the place without fighting back?”

“I know they may try to fight, but that doesnīt mean we have to harm anyone. Our only goal is to rescue the mutants being held there, and destroy the building so it’s unusable. Rogue, if we start hurting people who as scared of the changes they canīt control, then we will become the beasts they already fear we are.”

“What are we supposed to do? Turn the other cheek?”

“Perhaps . At least until they realize what a mistake they are making.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldnīt come out. It wasnīt the first time they talked about this, but it was the first time Xavier had told her to simply endure this hate and accept it as something normal. Does this man have blood in his veins? She wondered.

She was tired of all this. So damn tired. The only thing she could do now was to exit the room and leave the others enjoy their fake happy word. If they wanted to keep lying to themselves and get themselves killed, well… she guessed that was their right. No one was going to listen to her anyway, no matter how many times she tried to make them realize the mistake they were making.

It wasn’t like she wanted them to kill whoever got in their way, but they should at least realize that there would come a time when it would be necessary to shed some blood to achieve their purposes.

They could be such hypocrites. The spoke of mutants and humans being brothers, of how the world should learn to accept them; how one day, there would be no barriers between them – yet they kept her hidden under layers and layers of clothes, fearing her enough to not let her get close.

As if she was capable of killing them with gloved hands. As if she wasnīt careful. She wasnīt exactly looking forward to touching them without gloves. Using her powers was not a pleasant experience. Sure, it gave her extra energy, and experimenting with other peopleīs powers was fun, but the absorption of their thoughts and memories was hell. It was like someone raping her mind, forcing themselves inside of her, making it hard to distinguish where she ended and they began.

Nobody at the school made it any easier for her. She watched people flinch as she moved about the house, heard them gasp when she reached for something a little too close. There were times that she hated them and wanted to touch them out of spite--so they could have something real to fear.

But life was like that for her. Life sucking skin would never be the best thing for your social life She grinned wickedly, enjoying her own sense of humor.

She opened the door to her room and let herself fall onto the bed. If she closed her eyes and breathed deeply sheīd be able to forget about everything and simply feel the soft hum of her skin. It was a nice feeling. She loved the vibrations, relaxing her from the tip of her toes to her very last hair. It was almost like sitting on Loganīs motorcycle – feeling so safe and sure because she knew that, no matter what, someone was protecting her. Sometimes it would be Logan, sometimes it would be her own skin.

Unconsciously she reached up to caress the tags around her neck. Logan had returned once after leaving her the first time, just to spend some time with her and collect more information from Xavier, and if the thought of him telling her to keep the tags made her smile, well, she wasnīt going to feel ashamed about it. He was the only one who understood her, the only one who saw the world as she did. If only he spent more time at the school, things would be better.

A melancholic sigh escaped her lips. She really hated being at the school. She couldnīt even remember why she stayed there. Friends? She didnīt have any. Not real ones. Safety? The X-Men were more likely to invite her enemies to tea and cookies. Logan? Yeah, maybe he was the only reason she stayed. She knew he would come back eventually.

But...he would find her anywhere if he really wanted to. He was stubborn and good at tracking people down. As he’d told her in the past, he could smell her better than anybody. When she pressed him, he said it was probably because he spent so much time with her...and something else he never wanted to share.

So, why was she staying?

Time and time again, she asked herself that question. What was the real reason? She wasnīt happy. In fact, it was the other way around. The mansion never felt like home, she was living a life that was a lie, and most everyone in her life feared more than loved her.

A new thought formed quickly. If she couldnīt find a reason to stay, she should leave. She should find herself a life that made her happy.

There would be no more feeling like a freak among the freaks. No more wearing layers of clothing, even in the privacy of her own room. No more of anything she didn’t like. Looking back, she always knew this day would come, and she had saved a lot of money. She had secretly been working online, translating books and texts from German to English (that had been thanks to Erik), and even though she never left the mansion, she still received the allowance that Xavier gave to all the teenagers.

It was enough to let her wander for some time, until she found the right place to settle down. Not that it would be a glamorous life, but she would be able to feed herself and have a place to sleep. Running away from Mississippi had taught her a lot, and she had no desire to go back to being hungry, cold and scared--especially when you had no money and no one to ask for help.

But things were different now.

A big smile formed ion her face while she packed her stuff in a duffle bag. For a brief moment she regretted she had grown so much in the (almost) two years she had been in the school. She wanted to use her green hooded coat, but it didnīt fit anymore. What a shame, she thought, giggling to herself.

Once she had everything she could need, she looked back at the closet with the green coat. She knew there was no use for it, but… she couldnīt to leave it behind. If she had her way, she’d never return to the mansion. The old piece of fabric – it was really worn out and had some rips sheīd never repaired – was a reminder of everything that happened to her, of how strong she had to be to survive for so long in the road, and especially of how she met Logan, the event that changed her life. She walked back to the closed and retrieved the coat, forcing it into the duffle bag, even if there wasnīt so much space left for more things.

She wanted to leave the past behind by leaving, but there were some parts of that past that she wanted to remember forever. The experiences that made her who she was now and the only person in the world who really loved her (even if it wasnīt a romantic feeling). There were things too important to forget.

She looked around, realizing how foreign the room looked. As though it knew it had never been the right place for her. It was the same feeling she’d had when she’d first arrived--even though she knew this place was supposed to be “home” now, that foreign feeling had never really gone away. Maybe she was a freak, maybe she just wasn’t like other people. After all, the other boys and girls who lived there were happy, and so grateful that they would never even thinking about leaving..

Yeah, well. She still thought they were all lying to themselves if they thought they would be safe, or that the world would be safe for very long. Ha, fucking ha/ She was happy not being normal. She saw the truth, and that would keep her alive when the real future became their present.

It was already getting dark. She knew she should wait another hour before sneaking out. It was safer that way. She wasnīt in the mood to explain herself. They wouldnīt understand her reasons -- just they didnīt understand anything she ever said.

If she was honest with herself, she believed. Xavier only wanted her at the mansion so he could make sure she wasnīt using her powers in a way he didnīt agree with. Like stealing other mutantsī powers in order to protect herself, or even going to the dark side of the force or something stupid like that

That time passed quickly while she reflected on everything that had happened in the past two years. Not every memory was a bitter one. Xavier was mostly a good man--too lost in his dreams to get things done--but otherwise honorable and good. He had tried to help her gain control over her skin, spoke with her about the bitter feeling she had for her parents, and helped her move on from the angriness and pain.

There was Scott, too. She had to admit that she would miss him. As soft as he was, there was a part of him that was bitter about his mutation, a part that understood her and how much she hated all the clothes she needed to wear. In the same way, he needed to always wear his glasses, whether in the shower or in bed, and feared that someday he would hurt someone by accident.

But things had to be done, and changes made. Rogue pressed her ear against the door, listening for anyone wandering the corridor. Luckily, no one seemed to be around. Quickly, she grabbed her new coat and her bag and headed for the front door. For a supposedly safe place, it was damn easy to enter and leave without anyone realizing it.

When sheīd stepped outside of the Iron Gate, she relaxed. Nothing could stop her now. She was free, finally free. Her feet splashed in the puddles as she started running, but she didnīt care. It had rained a lot that day, and for some reason, she took it as a good signal. She loved rainy days; they made her feel melancholic and lazy in her.

She was heading for the train station, but not the same one she used the last time. She didn’t exactly have fond memories of that day, and since she’d touched Erik--or, more accurately, since he’d touched her--something inside her hurt whenever she took a train. It brought back feelings, memories, and especially smells of burned bodies and putrefaction. Not a pleasant experience, but trains were the best way out of the city. She wanted to head to Albany, then Montreal. Once in Canada she would start looking for a small town, someplace where wearing tons of close and being a little different--though she’d never reveal just how different-- wasn’t such a big deal.

In her mind she could already see it. A nice. almost normal life. No big plans, just her living life the way she wanted. Not giving explanations to anyone or arguing about a future war.

Not that sheīd had time to plan anything. An hour and half ago, she was still asking herself why she bothered staying at Xavierīs. Time was something she wasnīt going to worry about. Sheīd start making plans once she was on the train. Theyīd distract her from Erikīs fears.

Her ticket in one hand and her duffle bag in the other, she tried not to shiver while she looked for her seat. It had started to rain while she was walking to the station, and her hair was so wet she could hear it dripping on the wooden floor. The train was one of the new oneīs that looked like they came out of the 1920īs. One of those lucky moments I hardly ever have, she thought. These new trains had compartments so she wouldnīt have to worry about having too many people around her.

She was happy when she found her coach, and her compartment was the first one. Finally, she’d be able to sit down and get warm. She’d have to get used to the cold soon enough, and maybe even more clothes, but the thought that it was her choice, and not an obligation, made her stupidly happy.

Slowly, so as not to disturb the old man who seemed half asleep in his seat, she entered the compartment and placed her bag above her seat before sitting down. The man sat in front of her next to the window, while she stayed near the door. He too looked like something out of the 1920’s. He was wearing an elegant camel colored gabardine coat and an expensive hat covered half of his face, so she could only see his white hair and thin lips.

Strangely, she felt as though she recognized him. As if she had seen him somewhere before, but couldn’t quite pinpoint where. She didn’t leave the school often, and didn’t tend to remember random people well--her memory wasn’t quite that good. Where did she know him from? Could it just be déjā vu?

Shaking her head and smiling at her own foolishness she took her mp3 player from her coat pocket and put on her favorite playlist, a mix of rock and songs with deep lyrics. Usually, lyrics are what cause her fall in love with a song. Lyrics told stories and described feelings and spoke of how damn hard life was for everyone, whether human or mutant. It was nice to know that pain and fear were not exclusive to certain gene pools. If that made her a bad person, she didn’t mind at all.

The next song started, and at the same time, the train started to move. The movement and warmth lulled her into sleep. Soon, her mind was lost in a world of dreams that she wouldn’t remember once she woke, but that that moment she had nothing to worry about. The future seemed good, and she was in charge of her own destiny once again.

For the first time in a long while, her dreams turned painful. She didn’t understand what was happening, or where she was, and her skin ached with a lust she’d never felt before. It wasn’t exactly erotic; more like hungry, almost starving. The buzz she normal felt when she was calm was now a vibration strong enough to make her feel like she was the epicenter of an earthquake. It radiated from her belly, and slithered like a snake until it reached her fingertips.

She craved and needed to extend her hands and take and take and after taking it all take even more. Her skin was almost whispering in her ear how much it wanted to eat, to steal the life out of all the people around her. Rogue has never feel like that before.

There was fire around her, burning her clothes but not touching her body. The power was so strong she was getting drunk on it. She felt fear, power, pain, lust, and an odd feeling of being lost in the middle of nowhere, yet she could sense others around her.

Dark red irises observed her surroundings. The place was unfamiliar but she could see it had been a large city before something had destroyed it. It was large enough to be New York or San Francisco, or any other major city in the United States.

What happened here? She asked herself. Who--or what--was responsible for this destruction?

For the first time she realized where the power and heat was coming from. The fire that looked like a fragile bubble was coming from her. She gasped at that revelation. It had been her that destroyed this place, wasn’t it?

Her eyes opened abruptly back in the real world. She was frightened of this dream that had revealed destruction and power that wasn’t hers. But it had been a dream. She repeated that to herself, trying to calm down. She’d suffered through nightmares of Logan and Erik’s for months, and occasionally still did. Sometimes she even had dreams about Liberty Island. But they were nothing compared to this dream.

Maybe it was that thought that made her realize where she’d seen the older man before. She raised her head, frightened of what was in her mind and right in front of her, and looked at the man.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

Was she going crazy? Not that that would be anything new. Sometimes she doubted her own sanity. Having voices in your head and cravings for things she’d never tried before--like expensive food or Cuban cigars--would do that to you.

Was she imagining things? It was possible. It might be the only explanation for what she thought she’d seen. Laughing a little, she felt like kicking herself. For a moment she’d actually thought that Erik Lensherr was sharing the compartment with her. How stupid was that? He wouldn’t take a train if his life depended on it. And even if it had, it would be too much of a coincidence for it to be real.

Even knowing that, her mind couldn’t stop thinking about it. She had Erik in her mind, and she knew almost everything about him, from his hobbies too his smell.

But it seemed time had dulled his memories, even if it hadnīt erased them.

She would be able to recognize him anywhere, just like she could with any of the others she’d absorbed over the years. But it seemed time had dulled his memories, even if it hadnīt erased them.

And it was him.

She knew it.

She could feel it in the way her heart was beating faster and a thin layer of sweat covered her forehead. She wasn’t easily frightened, but that man had nearly taken her life. No one can forget an experience like that.

Now what was she supposed to do?


TBC…
End Notes:
Well, well, well… I canīt believe Iīm publishing a Rogan fanfic for the English fandom. Do you girls see my happy puppy eyes? Yeah, Iīm close to tears! This is happiness, oh yeah! I hope you enjoy this fanfic as much as Iīm enjoying writing it. Reviews, bombs, naked Logans, everything is welcome!

^^ I know this is not very interesting, but I promise it will get better soon. Please, keep reading! Rogan, anti-Jean and dark stuff coming soon!
Chapter 2 by LeeMinKyo
Author's Notes:
I know youīre waiting for Logan to show his manly face in the story, but you will have to wait until chapter 3. Sorry! But I promise it will be worth the wait. OMG, I laughed so hard at one of my betaīs suggestions! She was damn funny and made me want to write Rogueīs dad as a Princess. xD

As always thanks to my amazing beta tornado_ali who uses her magic to fix all my horrible grammar mistakes.
THE LAST night that she lived,
It was a common night,
Except the dying;
this to us Made nature different.

(Emily Dickinson)

Her heart was racing and her hands trembled inside her gloves. It was him. It was Erik and she was so sure she could swear it. She couldnīt believe she hadnīt realize it before. How could I be so stupid?, she asked to herself trying to choose what to do next.

Erik was on the train and it was impossible he hadnīt recognize her. She even fell asleep in his company, for Godīs sake! Her breath caught in her throat. What seemed odd was that he hadnīt reacted to her. He had left the compartment while she slept without harming her.

The train was still moving and she had no idea where she was. Looking at her watch, she calculated there was more than half an hour before they arrived in Albany, and since the train was non-stop it was probable Erik was still on it. Unless he had decided to use his powers to leave, which would have alerted all the humans on the train. She was sure the shock would have woken her up.

“Damn him!” she muttered.

Rogue hated to be scared more than anything else in the world. Normally, she was strong and feeling this weak was horrible. Erik’s presence reminded her of that young version of herself who was alone, scared and helpless. The Rogue who hid behind a funny nickname but couldnīt understand how powerful and strong she truly was. The one who still lamented the loss of her parents and her “Daddyīs Princess” status.

Now, she was so different. Power and strength were everything inside of her. Having a place to stay gave her time to absorb all the things she learnt on the road, and to realize she wasnīt alone anymore---Logan was there for her if she ever needed him. Even if most of the time he wasnīt physically there, the knowledge that he’d come running if she called was enough to make her feel safe.

But Erik brought back all that past just by being close. The version of him that was in her head was silent, which didnīt help at all now. She needed to make a plan quickly. Being on the same train felt like a déjā vu of their first meeting. She could almost hear the sound of metal twisting and people screaming again. She hated those memories.

Rogue took her bag and stepped out of her compartment, leaving the safety—because she couldnīt accidentally touch someone--of being alone to use the human company as something comforting. Not that it would stop Erik, but it was the best option right now. She felt better by doing this. At least, if he decided to do something to her everyone would know it and the news would reach the Xmen.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. She didnīt want the help of the Xmen or their presence in her life once again. They would only ask questions about why she ran away and turn everything into “Poor Rogue sheīs a lonesome girl who loves to act like a rebel teenager” again. She was tired of that crap. But she guessed it was better to hear that than to be kept by the Brotherhood.

She wanted to laugh at herself again because this new life was supposed to be better and make her feel happier, but only 4 hours after leaving the School she was feeling like a stupid scared child.

The loudspeaker announced that they would be arriving at the Albany station soon. She wanted to jump in her seat like a kid ready to ask her parents if they were already there. Even the woman sitting by her looked at her with funny eyes. Rogue smiled sheepishly at her.

The entire time until the train arrived safely to Albany she looked around, ready to take her gloves off if she saw Erik or anyone working for him. But when nothing happened she started to feel stupid and paranoid. She left the train and the station, starting to doubt herself--maybe that man in her compartment wasnīt Erik. Maybe it was someone else or they were similar and that confused her. Maybe she was a little bit scared and was projecting her fear on this stupid matter.

When the cold wind of Albany hit her face, her mind seemed to become clearer. Everything was ok and the only thing she needed now was to find a small nice hotel and somewhere to have a late dinner. After all, she left the School in such a hurry that now her stomach was making sounds and demanding food.

The streets were dark, the weather so cold that her breath left her mouth in white puffs, and very few people were out. A nice shiver ran through her back as she adjusted her coat tighter around her body. Cold, that she could manage. She loved it. With all the layers of clothes she was used to wearing now--even if saying she was used to them was a lie--heat was hell. But when everyone seemed to hate the weather she felt happy. Under the fabric her skin always shivered with pleasure, enjoying the pocket of warmth of her covered skin while the uncovered parts of her skin became red from the cold.

Her steps resounded in the lonely street and she marveled at the freedom of not worrying about what people thought about her. She looked too young to be out this late. Especially alone. But she had no parents or legal guardian to give explanations to, and that made her feel like an adult even if the law said she wasnīt one.

What was the definition of “adult” anyway? Taking care of yourself? Check. Earning your own money? Check. Deciding what to do with your life? Check. Then, what was the difference between her eighteen years and someone elseīs twenty-five? She had enough people to make herself older than any living person. Well, except Logan.

She was rougher and stronger than the Xmen. Even if they wouldnīt admit it. She was the only one there who knew how to be a soldier of a war no one wanted to call so. Kill or be killed. Being nice didnīt win battles, and everyone knew it. She only had two weaknesses: Logan, and her memories of being helpless. And normally she was pretty good at hiding her fears, even if right now it didnīt seem like that.

Walking in the direction of a yellow neon sign that announced there was a hotel, she started to hear footsteps. Coming closer and closer. She could recognize the sounds of at least four people. She knew – thanks to past experiences – how a lonely young girl walking around dark streets can attract weird men. Without taking a look back, she walked faster just to see if they did the same thing. That would be an evident sign that they were following her.

And of course, she was right. They were following her.

Even knowing she could take them, all she was worried. There was a chance she would need to use her skin, and she hated to use it. Logan always said she shouldnīt run when someone was following her, because then they would realize she was aware of what was happening, and would attack her sooner. The right thing to do was to keep walking, trying to reach a zone where she could find more people. Mutants or humans--it didnīt matter. People are braver when no one can see them.

It was too late and after almost five minutes she knew she wouldnīt meet anyone. She needed to decide what to do next, and decide it fast.

Turning around slowly she looked them in the eyes – as much as the dark street let her do it – and began to calculate her strategy. Her combat skills where very good, thanks to the part of Logan in her head and the training to be a junior Xmen. With some luck she would be able to take out two of them before confronting the other two. If she was unlucky – and she was feeling unlucky after the maybe-Erik encounter and the actual situation – she would need her skin to save herself.

“Hey, pretty thing. Donīt you want us to keep you company?” said one of them, licking his lips.

“Yeah, itīs dangerous to be here all alone this late. We donīt want you to get hurt, do we?” The threat in his words was evident.

“No worries. I can take care of myself very well. Thank you.” She replied trying her best to sound calm.

“Oh, we like girls with backbone. Come on, pretty thing. Letīs be friends.” They all laughed at that and she got tired of this fake kindness.

“Look, you all better turn around and go sleep it off. I donīt want to hurt you just because youīre stupid.” She growled.

“What the…”

From then on everything happened too fast. The two doing all the talking ran to her, trying to hit her and make her be obedient. It was more than evident what they wanted to do to her. Rogue fought back, knocking the first one out very quickly, but for a moment she got distracted by the sound of fabric being ripped and that distraction cost her too much. The second man ripped the fabric of her left glove while trying to grab her hands to stop her from hitting his friend.

She felt the pull before she was able to fully realize what was happening. Memories, thoughts and a sick lust entered her body making her feel dizzy. It always started like this, but the strong feelings of that man were making it harder than other times for her to pull away and break the connection. She couldnīt control her body, because in that exact moment there was more of him in her mind than hers.

Suddenly, she felt two pair of arms around her shoulders and waist and Thank God the pull stopped, and she hit the ground. Her mind was confused and oh so filled with hate and a lust that disgusted her that it took her a couple of minutes to hear them again.

“Damn it! Sheīs a mutie freak!”
“What the hell has she done to him? Did she kill him?”

“Damn it! Damn it!”

She shook her head in a useless attempt to clear her head enough to figure out what should she do. The movement only scared the still conscious men, who began to kick her before she could stand up. Time and time again, she felt the pain, and it didnīt matter how many times she tried to stop them and stand up, it was impossible. The state of her mind and body was too weak after touching that man. A new blow brought more pain and soon she felt the coppery taste of blood in her mouth.

For a moment she closed her eyes, forgetting the pain as much as she was able to, and began to think that maybe it was her time. Maybe this was her destiny all along and the fact that her mutation kept her away from everyone was only a warning of how short a life she would have. No bonds that tied her to anyone. She was alone in the world, confined in her own skin as if it was the planet where the little prince lived in that story.

Oh, the irony of all this was funny.

Soon, the pain was too much for her to bear and in the back of her mind she betrayed her own rules by wishing to see Logan once more to say to him all the things she always kept buried deep down in her chest. She had promised herself long time ago she would never bother him by talking about her feelings. He would never feel the same way and it would only make him feel uncomfortable around her.

But she wanted to be selfish and tell him everything. How much she loved him, how she knew his heart from the first time she saw him fighting in Laughlin City, how she understood the painful darkness always hidden in his eyes, how she only stayed in the School because she knew that was what he wanted, and especially how he brought hope to her life, giving her something she thought she would never have again. A family.

Maybe there would be a person to miss her after all, was her last thought.


o.o.o.o.o.o.o


Her head hurt like a bitch, but it was her chest and her ribs that were driving her crazy. Damn, she felt as if a truck had just hit her. A truck with a foul temper.

Even in the middle of the pain and the confusion she could feel a soft bed under her and the warmth of a light comforter over her. Slowly she opened her eyes, feeling grateful for the dim light. Her head already hurt too much to add a flash of light hurting her eyes too.

“It seems our Sleeping Beauty has decided to finally wake up.” A voice said from some distance. “It pleases me to no end to see youīre not severely hurt.”

“E-Erik?” She asked, confused and suddenly scared. Her body reacted on its own, trying to make her jump from the bed and prepare herself for a probable fight to scape this place, but the only answer to her movement was a paralyzing pain.

“You shouldnīt move from that bed, my dear. Two of your ribs are broken and some others are bruised. Take it easy, please.”

“Where am I?”

“Thatīs information I canīt share right now. But you donīt need to worry. Youīre safe here.”

“Thatīs a funny thing for you to say. The last time I heard that I ended tied up to a machine that would have killed me. Please, forgive my incredulity.” He laughed at that with delight.

“Oh, how I wish more of our youngest brothers had your energy. Past is past, my dear Rogue. Iīm not interested on turning those stupid humans into mutants anymore. They donīt deserve such a great gift.”

“Should that make me feel better?”

“Arenīt you one of Xavierīs children? I thought he taught you all to be generous souls that can forgive all the sins. Iīm sure itīs somewhere in the book of the good boy scouts.”

“Iīm not one of them anymore, and Iīm not sure you know what a soul is,” she growled, feeling her headache getting worse.

“You shouldnīt say that to the man who saved you from being nearly beat to death, and God knows what else.”

Everything came back to her after hearing his words. The cold, the darkness and those men. A painful shiver went through her body and she looked at Erik with the confusion of not knowing if she should feel grateful or worried. Not that she wanted to be killed by drunken rapists, but she still didnīt know if being with Erik was any better.

“You donīt look grateful.” He said as if he was reading her mind.

“Thatīs because Iīm not sure if I should be grateful.”

“Will we have to repeat all that “Youīre evil” argument again? Youīre alive, no harm done. At least not by me. I think we should leave it as a tie. One bad action, one good action.”

“Thatīs easy for you to say, Erik.” He laughed again.

“Erik, huh? I wonder where all that familiarity comes from.”

Her cheeks turned a very light shade of red, and she hated herself for it. She knew better than to trust him, but there was something in the way he talked that made her want to do it. Just like the Professor-- his way of talking to her was soft, well-mannered and elegant. No one would have said Erik was the leader of the Brotherhood. Too polite to be that evil.

“I guess Iīm the one to blame for giving you a part of me that may be still inside of you. I donīt mind it. It reminds me of my friendship with Charles and how he used to call me by that name.”

“Yeah, thatīs really sweet and all that, but I would like to leave.”

“No one is stopping you. You can leave whenever you want, but I would love your company. Now that you have left Charlesī side, maybe itīs time to hear the other side of this story.”

“Thank you, but no thank you.”

She tried to move to see if it was true that she was allowed to leave, but she didnīt have the chance to do it. When she moved enough to try to sit against the headboard of the bed her ribs protested with a wave of uncontrolled pain. She wanted to scream and growl at the painful response of her body, but her pride stopped her from doing it. Her vision became blurry with the unshed tears.

“It seems to me that your body wants you to stay.” He smiled at her with a touch of irony.

“Damn you!” she screamed, tired of all his games and the pain and her shitty luck since she left the School. If that man wasnīt right there in front of her she would have been crying like a baby.

“Itīs not nice to see a young lady like you using such a vulgar language. Please, rest up; you will be my guest for some days. We will have time for you to hear some interesting stories.”

“Wait, before you ignore my wishes and leave me here, I have a question.” She looked at him to see if he was willing to answer and when she saw a gentle nod she kept talking. “What were you doing on that train? I donīt believe in coincidences.”

“Neither do I, but believe it or not it was a coincidence. One you should be grateful for. I was curious and followed you after we arrived in Albany and then I saw what those barbarians were trying to do. And they fear us. “ He snorted. “Itīs us who should be scared of them, but not anymore.”

“So, youīre telling me everything was a lucky coincidence?”

“Yes, my dear. There was no way I could know you would be there. Or, was this a planned trip?”

She lowered her gaze, giving him an answer without words. As suspicious as it seemed, he was right. There was no way Erik could have known she would be on that train. He wasnīt a mind reader like Xavier.

With that, Erik exited the room and left her alone. The pain was strong, but what worried her more than anything was her actual situation. She could still hear the thoughts of that man who touched her--which meant sheīd killed him or by now he should have vanished--and she didnīt know where she was.

Rubbing her temples she sighed tiredly. She had no luck, this was her fate. The only thing she could do now was to forget about everything and try to get better. She was a light sleeper, she would wake up if they tried to do something to her.

It seemed as if tomorrow would be a very important day.

Tomorrow would be the day everything changed, even if she didnīt know it yet.


TBC…
End Notes:
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