Rogue had taken to dragging him about the place, and he didn't mind. It seemed her mood was improving, and as he watched her he noticed her testing the new personality attributes that had made themselves at home in her psyche. Not that they were bad, or that they were unwelcome, they were new. New, but seemingly at home in this woman's personality. When he questioned Rogue about it, she said that they were things about Carol that she liked, and wanted to encourage in herself but never had the guts to.

"There are things about Carol you like?"

She nodded, holding his hand, pulling him out into the garden from the kitchen back door.

"Rogue, she was a psychopath."

The relaxed look on Rogue's face fluttered, and she shrugged.

"She had a hard past, Logan. So did Magneto. I'm not particularly in love with either of them, but if I don't accept them for who they were, and encourage their positive aspects in my personality - I'll never be happy. You know? I can't try to reject them from my psyche, cause if I do that, I'll go crazy."

It sounded all too familiar. Not that he had other psyches within him, but that raging animal inside that he always seemed to be at odds with clutched onto those words. Heed her wisdom, it said. Understand my strength.

Go to hell, he replied, and pulled out a cigar from his jacket. He took his hand from Rogue's, digging for his lighter, watching Rogue wander down the path ahead of him. Rose bushes filled the garden either side of her, and she smiled softly at the different shades of the blooms. Drawing her hand out of a glove, she let her hands brush over the flowers lightly, not long enough to cause them any damage. Her frivolity encompassed her, robbing her of mindfulness, and as she took a step to move further down the path her toe caught on a dislodged tile in the pavement.

She staggered, her second step failing her. Logan jumped forward to catch her, and as his lighter clattered to the floor his hands grasped for air.

Rogue's large brown eyes widened as she fell without help, and her hands clawed for air.

And stopped. She stopped. She hung in the air at a bizarre angle, as if the whole thing were a video, and someone pressed pause. Logan looked around, to see if Jean had stopped her from falling.

No, no Jean.

He peered back at Rogue, gazing at her in wonder. The floating woman gasped, joy splashing on her face.

"Logan... Logan, I'm flyin'!"

"No shit," he rasped, "How the hell are you doin' that?"

With a crease of concentration in her brow, she brought herself up, and stretching her arms up into the air she frowned with an effort, and he could see it in her eyes, willing herself onward and upward. She slowly lifted upward a moment, till she was a couple of feet up off of the ground.

"Carol's powers," she mumbled back.

Then she made the mistake of looking down, thinking on what she'd done.

Her body grew limp and she tumbled down, Logan jumping forward to catch her properly this time. He did, and the weight of the girl dropping on him toppled him to the ground.



Jean wasn't sure what part of "Meet me tomorrow at four o'clock" Rogue didn't understand, but the empty lab and the total lack of young silver and brown haired girl had her stomach clenching in her chest and making preparations to do the Heimlich from the inside out.

She strode down the main hallway of the school, abandoning the lab in urgent worry. The kids eyed her with curiosity, and concern, and she let the spidery fingers of her mind reach out, slowly, carefully. She touched their minds... she didn't feel the deep colourful rich pools of personality like she knew the Professor saw, rather flashing glimpses, identifying emotions and images that let her know who she was looking for. She could only gain depth with other telepaths, which is why she was surprised when she hit upon Rogue's mind and fell into it like one misjudged the depth of a puddle.

~Rogue? What on earth...?~

~Hey Sugah,~ the young woman's mind said, sounding far, far too old. ~You lookin' for me?~

~Yes! Everywhere! Where are you?~

~Earnin' my wings, baby. Earnin' my wings.~

Jean pressed her lips together and with her inner hunches lurching inside of her she made for the gymnasium. Upon getting there, the sight that greeted her ran her blood cold, fear growing in her chest.

Mid-air, without any support or suspension hung Rogue, arms lax in the air like a ballet dancer's. Her legs dangled in a similarly delicate position, her body curving in a way that would have all the sculptors and painters running for their pencils and equipment to capture the graceful impossible moment.

"Rogue!"

She ran forward, shaking her head.

The girl floated in the middle of the gymnasium, the paneled polished pine flooring below her padded with large crash mats reserved for the high-jumping facilities. Upon seeing the panicking Jean, Rogue just giggled and willowed backwards as if she were fooling about in a swimming pool.

"Come on up, Jean!" she grinned, "The air's fine!"

Logan looked up at the girl, his face unreadable, but his arms twitching on occasion.

"What the hell are you thinking Logan," she said, "Letting her do this - she could get herself killed!"

Logan snorted. "Yeah, like I could stop her."

Confusion flickered over Jean's features, and it dawned on her. Not only did she have impossible flying abilities, but impossible strength. Dangerous, far too dangerous to be in a young fragmented mind like Rogue's.

Rogue eyed Jean a moment, as if seeing that thought, and petulantly she tried a dive. With delicate ease she plunged down to the ground then, as if changing her mind, swung up into the air, up, touching the ceiling, then floating down carefully like a pill dissolving in water.

"I think I like this," Rogue said with a small grin.

Logan just shook his head, stuffing his hands farther into his pockets.

"She has to get down," Jean said, "We have to work with her new powers slowly, so that-"

"So that what?" Logan asked, eyes narrowing. "What you so scared of Jean?"

Jean swallowed, caution overflowing in her brown eyes. "I'm worried she - with accessing the new powers that she-"

There was a soft rush of air, and turning around Jean saw Rogue glide through the air towards her, hurt resounding in the large brown orbs. She staggered as her feet met the crash-mat, and tripping and trying to sort out her tangle of limbs she pulled herself from the safety precaution, her lips tensing in quiet exasperation. Straightening her shirt she strode over to Jean, trying to regain the air of elegance and coordination she had in the air not a moment ago but sadly failing.

"You're scared a' me," she said, hugging her arms to herself. Logan eyed Jean sharply.

"Are ya?"

"No," Jean shook her head, "No Rogue, it's not that, we just - we don't know the effect of your accessing the stored memories-"

"I'm not," Rogue said, firmly, reasonably. Her controlled ease made Jean feel all the more uncomfortable in the current situation. "I'm not accessing them. Look, I'm having my daily counseling with the Professor," she said, "And I'm not sick anymore. This, this..." She lifted her hands, pulling her gloved fingers closed into light fists and then slowly uncurling them again, eyeing the movements as if she'd never seen her hands do this before. "These powers they..." She straightened. "Ah could do good things with them, Jeannie." She swallowed, eyes to the brim with emotion. "I'm not useless anymore."

Jean frowned. Useless? She thought she was useless? "Rogue..."

"I feel good," she said, interrupting her again. "For the first time in... well..." She let out a shuddering breath. "Please, let me enjoy something in my life. Just something."

Closing her eyes, the plaintive tone of the girl in front of her was not lost on her. She placed her hand on the girl's shoulders, squeezing them lightly before meeting her large brown eyes. "Does it have to be this?"

Rogue swallowed, chiseled lips twitching. "What else do I have?"



Rogue agreed to go with Jean to the lab, but not without needing a lot of convincing to come down after she launched herself into the air. The air was light, the air was defeated, the air was a new friend. It pulled back her hair as she soared, whistled around her body, handed her freedom on a silver platter. What freedom, she wasn't sure, but during her whole time with Carolyn within her she had felt robbed, sullied, violated somehow. The moment she woke from her deep sleep spent with Xavier she knew something had changed, shifted, even subconsciously. It wasn't till she had tripped and floated that she could put a finger on what it was... control. For the first time in days, she felt like she could have control of something. That something was her powers - her new powers. She could put her fist through a 2ft thick wall and the next moment she could run her fingers through her hair lightly, hug Jubilee without a touch of harm coming to her.

No helplessness as energy seeped from bodies, no tears and no weakness. Just strength... a fuckload of strength.

Jean led her to the lab, a plethora of instruments laid out on a trolley. Oh yay, Rogue thought, I get to be a pincushion for an hour. The lady doctor smiled, patting the examination table. With some apprehension, Rogue traipsed over, pulling herself up onto the table.

"How many needles ya stickin' into me today, Doc?"

Jean looked to her, hazel eyes flashing at the girl's Loganesque turn of phrase. She smiled shortly. "Enough to figure out what's happened to you, Rogue." She let her eyes settle back to the syringe in her hands that she prepared primly. "Roll up your sleeve." Rogue complied, and taking the girl's naked arm with a latex-gloved hand she pressed the needle to her skin.

And pressed. And pressed. She frowned, pushing hard. The skin may as well have been leather. Jean's lips tightened, her brows knitting.

Rogue just gawped at her skin, eyes glistening with a touch of fear. "Wh-" She gulped. "What's happened to me, Jean?"

Jean shrugged, gulping herself. "I don't know, Rogue... I..." She sighed, handing the needle to Rogue. "Here - you see that vein?"

Rogue licked her lips, "You want me to stick it in there?"

Jean nodded. "I can't. The skin it's - "

"Too strong," Rogue supplied, and taking the syringe she pressed it to her skin. There was a sickening give, and Rogue twisted her lips, wincing. The needle had bent. She looked to Jean with glistening eyes. "What does this mean?"

Jean sighed, propping her hands onto her hips. "For me? I'm going to need stronger needles. For you? We'll do the tests we can today, and tomorrow I'll make some calls about getting some better needles."

Rogue nodded, sighing and pulling down her sleeve. "Ah'm sorry."

Jean's brow creased a touch as she frowned lightly at the younger woman. "What for?"

Rogue looked to her arm and nudged it up. "This. Me bein' different. You don't like it, Ah can see it in your eyes. Feel it even."

Jean nodded, pulling over a stool. Seriousness seeped into her usually sweet features, and she looked hard suddenly, like a matron, but worried, like a mother. "I can see how you might think that, Rogue," she said, "But it's not true."

Rogue laughed. It was a small innocent chuckle, and she shook her head without any maliciousness. "No, no. I can see it. I can feel it. Like - like a flash of colour - but with feelings. I see your eyes and I know. You don't like it."

Jean clenched her jaw a moment, then licked her lips. "Rogue... what am I thinking of now?"

Rogue frowned, her brow denting, her lips pushed out in effort. She sighed, pulling up a leg and cocking it, running a gloved finger over her full mouth in another Loganeque gesture. With a final sigh she pointed at Jean lazily.

"I have no idea," she said. Jean sank a little, looking away. All Rogue could think of was how she suddenly could smell a cigar. A nice, long smoky cigar.

"Okay. Come over here and we'll begin the tests on your cardio-vascular endurance."

Rogue nodded, stepping over to the side room equipped to the brim with machines that strained and tested every imaginable facet of the human body, and a few machines that strained and measured facets not imaginable to the human body, but perfectly conceivable for the mutant body. It was a certainty that Jean was a pioneer in her field, and probably knew more about mutant physiology than any other being alive, Hank McCoy running a close second due to the fact that he was in his last years of medical tuition. Jean led her to a simple treadmill, and opening a drawer she brought out conductive gels, wires and sticky pads that resembled large metallic nipples. Jean pointed to Rogue's top.

"Could you take that off so I can stick these onto your skin?"

Rogue shrugged and doffed her dark baby-tee. Slipping on latex gloves, Jean began the task of sticking on the electrodes. There was a quiet moment of Jean hovering around her body, fearless, relaxed, as if Rogue were any other half-clothed person. In that small moment, Rogue felt a touch of relief and thankfulness. In all of this, Jean was caring at heart. Perhaps a little too much so, like a mothering sister. The redhead smiled and hummed.

"Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"Out a' curiosity..." Jean looked up to Rogue, and she continued. "What were you thinkin' of? You know... when you asked me..."

Jean shrugged and smiled. "Oh... just a cigar."



She was unsure if she was scared as she waited in the observation room. It was empty, cleaned out since the last time she'd been here. The flowers were gone, and so was the vase. Jean said everything was in the laundry, so the room was stark. For some reason, it was more comforting now than it was before when it had been brimming with amenities. Maybe because now she could see it's true nature, and she felt she could deal with that. It was a cold sterile cube of a room, and the mirror in the far wall reflected her image back at her.

Her hair was long. Longer than she remembered it being. 'I need to cut it,' she mused. 'I look like a little girl.' It occurred to her she was a girl - damn her if it was months since she felt like one. The dark baby-tee she wore hugged her form, and thin bands of her pale skin stuck out from between the hems of her glove and shirt. A dark brown woolen scarf wrapped her neck, and Logan's tags dangled down on the tent her breasts created with the shirt. They glinted in the light, scratched, old, but precious. Her arms seemed thin but her body felt different. Her hips felt larger and a yearning built inside of her to dress accordingly. 'You are a woman now,' a voice said inside of her, 'Let this shine and emanate from you like the alluring scent of a rose.' It occurred to her this moment that she sometimes wished Carol would shut up. Still... a better wardrobe couldn't hurt.

Jean opened the door, the sudden 'ka-chunk' of the action shocking Rogue from her deeper thoughts. She smiled patiently at the lady-doctor, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"What's the verdict?" she said. "Am Ah a mutie freak?"

Jean sighed patiently at the self-depreciating comment and sat at the end of the bed, opening her clip-board file. "Certifiably. From my tests thus far I've been able to establish that your changes have been totally restricted to your cellular structure and brainwave activities. Your skin and body are strong, stronger than any skin mutation I've seen. You're practically indestructible." She could see the girl's large brown eyes glinting at the endless possibilities opened up by this fact. "You probably can't burn, bullets may bruise but I sincerely doubt they would pierce your skin. Your cardio-vascular endurance is at a normal level though, and without blood tests I couldn't ascertain what else is at a normal level. I'm just itching to take a skin sample and run every test on it that I can think of. You were an intriguing case before Rogue but now..." She sighed and shook her head. "Now you're truly remarkable."

Rogue hugged her knees and smirked. "So how many more bad guys do I gotta suck up before I become simply amazing?"

Jean tilted her head, sensing the dry jocularity in the girl before her, and just narrowed her eyes. "Don't even think about it. You put us all through enough heartache this past week, and I honestly don't think Logan could survive another bout of that."

Rogue smiled, a security growing within her as she understood that Logan, in some way, needed her to be okay, and that he wasn't happy otherwise. Something occurred to Rogue. She frowned at Jean. "What about my flying?"

Jean looked up. "What about it?"

"How does it work? How... how can I do it?"

"Ah," Jean nodded, "Your mind seems to be geared to generating telekinetic energy. You think 'fly', and those energies lift you. I believe this also accounts for your slight and unwitting psychic abilities."

Rogue's eyes grew wide in shock. "You're sayin' I'm psychic?"

Jean smiled slightly. "Not actively, no. When I was approaching the gymnasium today, I had an encounter with your thoughts - as if you knew I was accessing them."

"Encounter..." Rogue's brows knitted.

"A conversation," Jean nodded. "Almost."

Rogue shook her head, snorting lightly. "That's so weird."

"It might seem that way at first..."

"No," Rogue said, "No. Before you entered the gym this mornin, I was wondering what I'd say to you when you saw me flying. Maybe you just saw that in my head."

Jean eyed Rogue firmly. "You responded to me Rogue. Telepathically."

Rogue shuddered. "Then there's some part of my brain I don't have any control over."

Jean nodded, "Possibly."

"Great," scowled Rogue. "Like my body isn't doing enough without my permission!"

"If it's any consolation, telepathy and telekinesis are things that you can learn to control. All it takes is practice."

Practice... Rogue sighed. That sounded like fun. Why was it that she had the difficult powers? Sure, the others had powers which they had to learn to control, but being in the later stages of puberty and like her, verging on adulthood, they'd very much come to master them. Rogue felt like she'd never have that option.

"Come on," Jean said, "I'll take you over your specific results, then you can go stop Logan wearing a hole in the floor of the corridor outside with all his pacing."

Yes. Logan wanted to come in whilst she was examined, but Jean forbade it. It was probably wise, she had to pull off her shirt and all sorts of things. Damn it.

"Geez," smiled Rogue, following Jean into the main room of the infirmary, "Ya think I'd never had a check up before."

"I don't think Logan's had to deal with very many of them."

Rogue nodded. That was true. Very true.



Logan had an instinctual dislike of shiny places that smelt of disinfectant, and waiting for Rogue to have her examination was not making him any easier about having to be amongst it. Eventually the door to the Infirmary opened, and Rogue and Jean spilled out, chattering and smiling. It took a moment for Logan to catch up with the conversation, and slowly realised what it was about.

"So once the reinforced equipment comes in I can take those samples and run some tests, okay?"

"Sure," smiled Rogue. She turned and spotted Logan standing there, the expression on his face close to that of a cat at a veterinary clinic waiting for an examination. He stepped forward, arms crossed, lower jaw jutted just slightly foward as his eyes flickered in worry.

"So, she okay?"

Jean smiled reassuringly. "Of course she is Logan. It seems these powers are settling in to stay. They're only getting stronger, and thanks to them Rogue has a whole range of things she couldn't do before to look forward to."

Logan stared at the woman flatly. "Right." New range his hairy ass. She could do enough; she didn't need any more crap on her plate. He looked to Rogue, who frowned at him slightly. "You done then?"

"Yes," Jean nodded.

"Right," Logan pointed at Rogue, "Wanna go for a walk?"

Rogue nodded silently, and they strolled from the infirmary, Rogue hugging her sweater to her chest and Logan loping along with a tenseness to his lips.

"So..."

Rogue looked to him, then back to where she was going.

"New abilities, huh?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and frowned again. "Yeah. You don't like 'em do you?"

He sighed, shrugging with a long roll of his shoulders. "I dunno Kid. I worry about what they'll do to you."

"They'll protect me, Logan," she said. "I can do some good now. I can be like you guys-"

Logan sighed, rubbing his brow, "Baby, I don't want you being like us guys."

Rogue stopped, cocking a hip and a brow at him. "What?"

He stopped with her, a part of him knotting up at the anger in the girl's eyes. Great. This discussion again. He lifted her arm up by the wrist and flopped her hand about. "It doesn't matter what powers you got, Kid. Without the proper training you're vulnerable. And this," Another hand flop, "Won't help you."

Rogue ticked a lip, anger in her eyes, and she yanked her hand away roughly. Logan, not expecting the strength that came from the girl, didn't let go soon enough and thusly went careening into the wall behind her, slamming against it then staggering back, cradling his head. Rogue covered her face, brows tilting up.

"I um... I didn't mean to do that..."

"Ow..."

"Sorry..." Rogue looked around, covering her mouth with brown silk covered fingers, before planting her hands on her hips. "Logan, sugah, I don't know if you noticed or not, but this thing I'm living, called a life? It's mine."

Logan looked at her behind a bruised but clearing brow. "Ungh..."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Simple thing is, I wanna be a part of the team, and I will be."

Standing up straight, shaking his head of the last sluggy moments of healing, he glared at her. "Why? So you can protect me? Is that it?"

Rogue smirked sadly, shaking her head and scoffing. "Sweet Jesus, the man is amazing!" She sniggered then gave him a glare of seriousness tinged with a smile. "You really believe that don't you?"

He opened his mouth but she waved a hand.

"Forget it." She strode off ahead of him.

"Where are you going?!" he cried.

"Shopping!"

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