Hank made a sound, half woke, and mumbled something about intubation and saline, and Rogue kept up the soft, sibilant, steady stream of questions, bringing the technical knowledge to the front of Hank’s defenseless, sleepy mind, then gently reached around him and rested her fingertips against the bare skin of his cheeks. Her voice rose as she demanded information on life support, and Hank suddenly went stiff in the chair, his trembling hands showing the protruding veins throbbing beneath the blue fur.
While he was still conscious enough to gasp for breath, Rogue whispered, “I’m so sorry, Hank, but you gave me no choice,” and pulled her fingers away from his skin as he slumped over his desk. Grabbing a tissue and checking his pulse, assuring herself that he still lived, Rogue let the medical knowledge she’d leeched from him flow through her mind.
Racing through the Med Lab, she pulled out a utility cart and loaded it with everything she would need: packs of sterile-sealed equipment, monitor pads, saline bags, intubation equipment, drugs, everything she could think of, and shoved the cart quickly into Logan’s room. Checking briefly over him and the monitors attached to him, she determined that he was stable for now, and turned to put the equipment to order, when she felt a hand grab her wrist.
Turning in shock, she looked down at Logan’s fingers grasping her bare wrist, and she tried desperately to pull away, but his grip on her was firm. Pulling at his long fingers, she pleaded, “Logan, let go of me! It’s back... the mutation, it’s come back. I’ll hurt you! Let go! Let go, please!” His grip remained tight on her, and she watched in horror as...
Nothing happened.
“Marie...” his voice was thin and weak, but he didn’t seem to be under the effects of her mutation. “Keep your promise,” he whispered, eyes glazed and fluttering shut again, but his grip held tight. Her hand was starting to tingle from the pressure, but still he seemed immune to her touch.
Risking an experimental touch, she stepped closer to the bed and touched his forehead with her other hand. She felt nothing draining from him. His skin was damp and still too warm, but no veins throbbed beneath the surface.
“Why can I touch you now?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t coherent enough to answer her. His grip suddenly relaxed and the monitors started beeping frantically as she raced to set up the equipment at his bedside, sliding the breathing tube into place with a whispered, frantic apology at the hated intrusion to his body, hanging the saline bag beside the nearly empty one, and putting the respirator to action. Not understanding half of what her hands seemed to know how to do, she just allowed Hank’s absorbed knowledge to guide her along as she quickly put Logan on life support.
Checking the monitors for the last time, Rogue grabbed a notebook from Hank’s office, checked his pulse and respiration again, and stole a pen from a desk drawer. Doubling back at the doorframe, she also stole his stash of Twinkies, some bottled fruit juice, and anything else there was to eat in the office, and returned to Logan’s room, barricading the door as best she could with the utility cart and a chair. Sitting on the floor, Rogue started scribbling down everything she could in the book, in case the life support knowledge left her before the unavoidable siege would be over.
Within moments, she heard Jubilee’s voice as she helped Kurt into the Med Lab. With Jubes shaking a groggy Hank half alert, Rogue kept her head down and wrote as fast as she could, stopping only long enough to brace herself against the door as well, locking her legs straight with feet planted against the bed’s leg, in case Hank was conscious enough to ask someone to break down her barricade. Flipping a page, she kept writing.
Time passed and she heard a babble of different voices from beyond her barricade. Hank’s voice was a sophisticated and unmistakable baritone above the babble, and she momentarily gave thanks that she hadn’t accidentally killed either Kurt or Hank.
Storm’s voice reached her, “Rogue, you cannot do this, child. Open the door.”
“Nope!”
“Rogue, you’re going against the law, and against Logan’s wishes,” Hank’s voice called to her.
“No, I’m sorry for what I did to you, Hank, and to Kurt, too; but I was just following orders.”
“Who’s orders? Certainly not Logan’s,” Hank added, frustration growling in his tone.
“No, maybe not Logan’s, or maybe so - I dunno. But I’m doing what Wolverine wants, and that’s enough for me, so y’all just back off and leave us alone, and do what you need to do with the adamantium. I heard the ‘Bird land a long while ago, so just get to work. We’ll be fine in here.”
Suddenly it dawned on her that if her mutation returned, Logan’s would eventually, too! The cure was not permanent! The shock of the realization overrode her own grief at losing the gift of touch, and she wanted to jump for joy, but kept her defensive position. All she had to do was keep the others away, and keep Logan alive long enough for his cure to wear off as well! She would need help, but that would all come in time. She finished writing her notations and closed the notebook, sliding it beneath the bed from where she sat, back braced against the door.
Muttering from beyond the door reached her ears, but she ignored it. Soon Bobby’s voice rose above the background sounds, “Rogue, they’re right. You’ve got to come out now, before this turns into a hostage situation, or some kind of stand-off. No one’s going to hurt you, or make you pay for what you’ve done tonight, but you’ve got to be reasonable, honey. Come on, open the door now, please.”
“Bobby?” Rogue’s plaintive voice reached his ears. He’d never called her ‘honey’ before, so maybe that had gotten through to her.
“Yeah, Rogue?”
“Fuck off.”
Bobby threw up his hands and walked away. Jubilee stepped up to the window and pressed her nose against the glass as she peered down at Rogue on the floor, shouting, “Power to the people, Roguey. Hang tough!”
“Jubilation Lee!” Hank shouted at the Asian girl who just grinned and walked away.
Storm returned to the door and spoke through the glass, “Rogue, we understand that you’re terribly upset. But locking yourself in there with Logan isn’t going to solve anything.”
“It solves a hell of a lot, if you think about it,” she yelled back, “but if y’all will just leave us alone, maybe send in a little food or saline or whatever I ask for, and only when I ask for it, then everything’ll be just fine, trust me.
She heard a distinct and heavy clanking sound from the other room, and wondered if they were about to ram the door open. Jumping to her feet, she gazed out the window, past Storm’s face as she peered through the glass, and saw Piotr and Mike hoisting a gleaming metal-clad skeleton onto a Med Lab table. Her eyes wide in amazement, Rogue asked, “Who’s that?!”
“It’s Deathstryke. We found her remains at the bottom of the Alkali Lake complex. It’s the only adamantium we could recover, but it’s plenty. We’ll begin testing immediately. Please come out now.”
Rogue made an ironic snort and waved Storm off, saying, “I’m not stupid, Storm. If I set one foot out of this room, Hank’ll take Logan off life support and he’ll die while y’all play with the bones. I’m stayin’ put.”
Hank’s temper erupted as he stepped forward to the window. He snapped the words at her as his finger jabbed against the glass, “Rogue, you are holding my patient hostage in my facility, and it will not stand. This stops NOW! Release that door and come out. If not, I’ll have you bodily removed.”
“You send one person in here that I don’t ask for, and I’ll be dropping them at the threshold. And you and Kurt both know I can do that again. See, Hank?” She twisted both bared hands before his line of sight, “The cure wears off! All we gotta do is wait it out, and Logan will heal up on his own. So that’s why I’m stayin’ right here. You can argue ‘til you’re blue in the face, no pun intended; but I’m here, and I’m stayin’. Y’all just go on about your business. If you want something to do, go figure out why Logan just touched me and nothing happened, no drain. But I just dropped you and Kurt as easy as pie. Tell me why.”
Hank seemed stunned for a few moments, then turned away from the door without speaking. She saw him converse with Storm for a moment, then Storm left in a hurry. Hank ignored Rogue and turned to the skeletal remains on the table. Everyone seemed willing to back off for now, but with a sigh of relief she noted Mike walking toward the door where she waited.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he flirted. “You serious about holing up in there?”
“Yeah. You wanna help me out?”
“Sure! Whatcha need from me?”
“Food. I’m starving and all I’ve got in here is juice and Twinkies. Can you bring me some real food from the kitchen?”
She noted Mike’s head swivel and his black-orb eyes must have scanned the room to see if anyone was within hearing distance before he stepped even closer to the door. Whispering through the crack in the door jamb, he said, “I’ll help you any way I can. The twins and I can all take turns being your gophers, so just gimme a list any time you want stuff. We’ll switch off, or hell, I’ll come in there and we can hole up together for company. Probably will be the only time I can get cozy with you before Logan wakes up and kicks my sorry ass.”
Rogue giggled at the suggestion, then asked, “You can’t get cozy with me for any reason, Mike - my mutation came back. One good touch from me could finish you. For now, I just need food. There’s a bathroom here, so that’s not a problem. Feed me, and I’m your friend for life.”
“Done. I’ll be back ASAP. Just promise not to drop me at the threshold like you threatened them.”
Mike turned and was quickly gone. Peering through the glass again, she saw Hank lean momentarily against the table and shake his head to clear it. Rogue knew she’d done a job on him. He was lucky to be on his feet. The Beast was strong, and she hoped in time their friendship would heal, but right now she had other priorities.
Stepping to Logan’s bedside, she checked all the monitors, the respirator, and switched to the new saline bag. Knowing everything was in order, she gazed down at him as the respirator forced air into his lungs, making his thick chest rise and fall in jerky, unnatural movements. Leaning down to him, she whispered, “I hope you really were talking to me, and it wasn’t just a dream. It’s a risk that I’m willing to take to save your life,” she leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his damp forehead, lingering long enough to be assured there was no pull from her mutation. He was truly immune now!
She almost laughed with joy, and began changing the bandages, but realized she hadn’t stocked in fresh gauze pads. A tap at the door brought her head up, and Mike and the twins gazed in the glass. Mike waggled a brown paper bag at her.
Before the group gathered around the skeleton realized what was happening, Rogue had instinctively teleported out, grabbed each twin and Mike one by one, and teleported them back into Logan’s room with her. As the smell of sulphur drifted across the room, Hank suddenly came running to the door again, and Piotr was right behind him. All four were barricaded inside Logan’s room now, and Hank frowned through the glass.
“Rogue, you can’t seriously intend to hold a siege in that room! Come out immediately.”
“No.”
“I’m coming in. Stand away, for your own safety,” Hank raised both fists, intending to smash the door down and shove the furniture away. He had the strength to do it, and with Piotr behind him, Rogue knew the flimsy barricade wouldn’t hold for even a few seconds against the two mutant powerhouses.
“Stay behind me,” she told the twins and Mike, who obliged, huddling against the back wall. Rogue yanked off her shirt, baring as much skin as quickly as possible, braced herself in a crouched fighting stance, both arms out at her sides, ready for whoever came through the door first. Shouting at Hank, she told him, “You bring it on, Hank. I swear, I’ll take down the first person through that door! You know I can do it.”
“You cannot absorb Piotr through his metal skin, young lady!”
“The hell I can’t! Just ask him about the Danger Room practices. Go ahead and gimme a little of that full metal jacket, sugar, I dare ya! I’ll put it to real good use.”
Hank turned to Piotr, who nodded his affirmation, “It’s true. She absorbed a little of me and it turned her bulletproof.” The big Russian stood silent for a moment, and then added, “I’m not going in there. I won’t try to stand against her. She’s one of us.”
Hank looked thoughtful for a moment, before commenting, “A Rogue by any other name, indeed.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Something good finally happens when Logan grabs Marie, Mike steals to help the cause, and Piotr’s moment of clarity changes Hank’s viewpoint.