That day in Mississippi, when her whole world had come crashing down, when her father labeled her a demon and her mother had forsaken her, Marie had thought would be the end of her life. It felt more like a nightmare than reality. How, in the space of the ten seconds it had taken for her to down Cody, had everything gone to hell?
In her father's eyes, she literally had. She'd stumbled through the questions from the police with trembling hands as the ambulance drove away with Cody's seizing body. Her father stood by, staring at her in fear. He'd interrupted the conversation only to make sure there was no mistaking that 'no one touched the boy'. At the time, she had followed along with his words, confident in the thought that he'd been trying to protect her. Turns out he was just protecting his good name.
They lived in the South, for God's sake. People around there weren’t exactly known for their liberal and welcoming views. It had always shocked her how much hate people could hold in their hearts. Mutant sentiment was something you didn't discuss in polite society, it was thought so filthy.
Society always latched on to something to blame for their ills. But damn if the KKK wasn't alive and well, burrowed deep within Meridian, Mississippi culture, still ranting and raving about race. Mutation had just given them another group of people to discriminate against. They were going to start running out of viable white men if they weren't a bit more picky with the groups they decided to discriminate against, she'd thought.
But she went to mass each Sunday and communed with the Lord, believing every inch of bullshit they'd laid out for her. Believed in a Father who loved even the Lepers, with their poison skin. Believed in redemption and kindness and the outright goodness of man.
And then he'd turned to her when the last officer pulled away from the drive and gave her such a blow to the face, she'd flown back over the coffee table from the force of impact. Her mother, who had been sitting silently in the corner, cried out in dismay and covered her face.
Marie had been so shocked, she hadn't registered the blood soaking into her shirt from her gushing nose. She held a shaking hand to throbbing face and stared in utter horror at him.
She'd begged him to stop. To please, stop. She hadn't meant to hurt Cody. It was an accident. She'd begged and cried and his only response was to kick and beat, yelling craziness about the demon in his home. She'd turned to her mother and grabbed desperately at her apron from the floor where she huddled in fear begging her for help.
And the emptiness that filled her soul when her mother jerked away and buried her face in her hands as she turned her body into the corner...it had been...
She stopped believing in the goodness of man that day.
And then her father had thrown her out, ripping out a handful of hair in the process, heaving in anger and even crying in outrage. Her mother pulled him back inside soothing and coddling him. Marie had tried, like an idiot, one more time. She'd called to her mother, “Mama, please...I'm not a demon, I'm Marie!” and her mother had stripped her name away and closed the door quietly and sadly, fully prepared to mourn the loss of her daughter to the devil.
Rogue had lain sprawled out on the porch, coughing up blood and crying hysterically. She'd heaved in breaths of air, each one piercing her chest with pain. When, a year later, Jean had given her the first medical check-up she'd had since that day, she'd discovered the four healed fractured ribs. At the time, she'd thought her heart was dying. She'd finally scrambled to her bare feet and hobbled off, shivering from shock.
There had been no charity for her those first days. Her abused appearance and inability to touch had made her the worst of lepers. She slept in the street behind grocery stores, finding a few old and smelly clothes to wrap her skin in. She'd been reduced to dumpster diving for food by the fourth day, desperate for anything to fill her stomach.
She found an open shelter in Jackson on the sixth day where she finally showered and received some cursory medical care from sneering nurses forced to attend to a 'mutey' by law. She'd looked at her swollen face in the mirror after her painful shower. The discoloration on her skin, the swelling around her eyes and nose...she couldn't recognize her own face.
And she'd felt the anger well up...finally. The indignation, the fury... it was white hot and pooled in her stomach. She'd begged at their feet for mercy and understanding. Her father had towered over her as though he were Jesus himself, and refused to see her. She'd given them all the power, never seeing before how closed-minded and hateful they were toward mutants. Toward people like her.
That night, she'd knocked out the three sneering medical nurses and robbed them blind, scoring some $600 in cash from their bodies and cars and three very intricate if not ironic 24 carat gold and diamond crosses. She was out of the state before morning.
XXX
When she sat down in the office with the team, the truth about her classification finally came out. Bobby's eyes grew wide and he grinned. Kitty looked floored, Warren sat by quietly and Jubes snapped at her gum and quipped, “Damn, chica. Where'd the power surge come from? You stick your fingers in a light socket?”
She groused about needing to learn control and apologized profusely to Bobby.
He nodded and laughed, “I knew you couldn't keep her hands off my powers. You've been itching to get a go at it ever since Alcatraz.”
She wasn't comfortable with just how close to the truth he really was with that statement. When she glanced over at Logan, she could tell he wasn't pleased with the comment either.
“I wanted to talk about that,” she said with resolve. And that got Logan's attention.
Hank smiled warmly. “I'm glad you feel ready to talk about it, Rogue. We've been speculating about it for a while and it would help to have your input.”
She nodded.
“What do you want to know.” With everyone in the room, she felt a deep blush start to creep up her cheeks.
“For starters,” Hank begun, pushing at the glasses sitting on his nose. “We've been wondering about the difference in effect it seems to have on humans and mutants. As I understand it, it first manifested itself on a human, correct?”
She gave an inner groan. “Um, yeah. Cody.” She shifted uncomfortably.
“And what, may I ask, ever happened to the boy? I'm sorry if speaking of this is difficult, Rogue. But it is relevant.”
She shifted a bit more, glancing at Logan. He was strangely quiet, staring at her with hard eyes.
“He, umm, ended up in a coma for three weeks.”
She'd had to call the hospital four times to get any information pretending to be his older sister away at college. “They took him to Baltimore after that. To Kennedy Krieger. It's a rehab facility for children through Johns Hopkins,” she said by way of explanation. “I found my way over there a month or two later, to check on him. I didn't get to stay long. I was afraid his parents would recognize me. But he was....” she swallowed. “...Pretty bad off.”
“I see.” Hank sighed deeply. “That's rather unfortunate. I'm sorry, Rogue. That must be difficult to speak of.” She worried her bottom lip. She wasn't used to everyone around her knowing about this stuff. “And, have you touched anymore humans since?”
Oh, man. This was going to be uncomfortable to say the least. She took a deep breath and felt the blood rush to her face. “Four times since then.”
Storm's eyes shot up. Logan's entire demeanor shifted. He leaned forward, listening to every word.
“The first time...was actually three different woman.” A stunned silence filled the room. “It was a week or so after I left home. They were at the shelter and they were cruel to me. I didn't have a dime to my name and they kept whispering vulgar things behind my back loud enough that I could hear.” Storm’s eyes went sad. “I barely brushed each of them and they passed out cold.” She wouldn't finish off the story of picking their pockets.
“Wow,” was Kitty's only response.
“Huh. Nice work, chica,” Jubes said. Storm glared at her reproachfully.
“What?” she shrugged. “I'd 'a given shock therapy.” There were small laughs. Even Logan gave a half a grin.
Hank cleared his throat and pressed on. “Go on, Rogue. After that?”
“A trucker.” She picked at the invisible lint on her gloves. “You know, when he got too grabby.” His name had been Big Sam. She rolled her eyes at the memory of his lewd thoughts about her dick-sucking lips. She'd had the heebie-jeebies for weeks after that. He'd been a fat and sweaty disgusting blob of a man. Ick!
Logan's hands clenched and he stood up abruptly. He turned away from them and stomped to the window, staring out with resolve.
They all watched him momentarily before Hank broke the quiet. “Um, yes. Rather unfavorable news. You were unharmed, I hope.”
“Yes. Nothing happened. Just...you know...broken record and all.” He nodded.
“And he, too, passed out?”
“He umm...I think he was worse. I got more of him than the nurses and he looked worse...”
“I see.” He cleared his throat. “The last was Moira, here at the school just recently. The other?”
She looked down and clenched her jaw. Might as well, she thought bitterly.
“A gang-member in Detroit.” She'd been living in an abandoned warehouse with a number of other homeless teens. It was cold as sin, which made it easier to cover up and not have questions asked of her.
“Lots of the other kids around me were hooked on meth. So there'd be drug-pushers around all the time.” She peeked up and noticed Logan had turned to face them. He looked almost amazed.
“Rough,” said Jubilee. She smiled at the yellow-clad fireball. Jubes had been in a similar situation herself way back when and always used humor to push past her own memories. But she felt like a kindred spirit. A sister of war, so to speak.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “One of them kept trying to get me to try some. On the house...” Only to get her hooked so she'd need to keep on buying. “He cornered me once and tried to get me to take a hit with him. I threw his stash to the floor and called him a filthy street-rat,” and hadn't that been a bad decision. “He got me up face-first against a fence in the alley...”
“Jesus fuckin' Christ!” His exclamation caught her off guard and she jumped a bit in her seat. She looked over to notice he was just about breaking the wood of the chair he was gripping. “You ever think to stay away from shit-bags like that?” he snapped.
“No,” she hissed. “I was just some stupid little girl freezing her ass off in the middle of Detroit wondering where she was going to get her next meal. There was safety in numbers and the rest of them didn't ask questions. He caught me off guard, Logan. I didn't shake my ass in front of him.”
He froze in place, shocked at the acidity in her voice.
Storm gently found her voice. “Things happen when we least expect them to. I'm sorry that happened to you, Rogue.”
She pulled her glare away from Logan when his eyes softened in regret and looked around. Kitty looked a little green around the edges. Not unexpected. She'd come from a loving family. She'd never been exposed to the things Rogue and Jubilee had. No wonder she and Bobby get on so well. They both came from nice families directly to the mansion. Bobby hadn't experienced his first dose of reality until right before Alkali lake. She smiled inwardly. They would be good for each other.
Warren stammered. She'd almost forgotten he was there. He was always very quiet, never wanting to intrude.
“So you touched him?” It was so innocent, the way he thought. If Bobby and Kitty had been sheltered, poor Warren was completely left in the dark.
She remembered the snapped metal edges digging into her cheek and neck. “He touched me, I didn't touch him.” She would rather have suffered through an agonizing rape instead of having his thoughts in her mind. But that choice had been taken from her too.
“So,” Hank moved on carefully. “All of them, they were left in varying levels of unconsciousness.” She nodded. “As was Moira,” He added absently. “Curious that when you pull from mutants, it doesn't have quite the same effect.”
“When I pull from mutants, I pull at something different,” she offered. “Until Logan, that first night here, I didn't realize there was a difference. There's something different to pull at.”
She tried to explain, waving with her hands a bit. “My skin, it itches when mutants are around. When I see powers, I just...it's like an addiction. I'm drawn to it. I don't feel the need to take life,” she said desperately. “Just, mutation.”
“Makes sense,” Jubilee offered. They all glanced at her. “Well, doesn't it? I mean, her mutation, it's absorption.” She said it as if it were so obvious. “Like a little sponge.”
She smiled at Rogue. “It's evolution, right? The fundamental drive to survive. To be the best. She craves mutations because they better her chances of survival.” She shrugged. “Probably why you've been staring at Bobby so hard during training when he's full-on Iceman. Bet that much power just made your mouth water.”
They all stared at her in incredulous stupor.
“Oh.” It was the only thing she could say. It knocked over pieces in her head, each falling into place, creating a fascinating picture.
“That's why I could feel my skin open up before Bobby even came in the room. When his mutation is near, mine gets all hyped up.” But damn.
“But why so much with Bobby?” Kitty asked, perplexed.
“ 'Cause he's a class four.” Logan supplied. “Stronger than the rest of our mutations.” He was deep in thought. “That's why yours pulled so hard, Rogue. It wanted as much of it as it could get. The rest of us, we're small pickins' compared to Snowcone, here.”
Hank was nodding aggressively. “Yes, yes. It makes sense. You probably feel different levels within the mutant community.”
“That's why it feels like a hit of ecstasy every time,” she said absently. She blushed and looked down.
XXX
By October, she could pick out mutations, leaving others behind. It required more than a brush -- more concentration and an actual knowledge of what the person had. If she didn't know what was there, she wouldn't be able to pick one out of the crowd.
She toyed with the idea of trying to pull thoughts again but she found it difficult to find volunteers. Logan, who had submitted to having the power sucked from him time and again had growled a stumbled refusal at the idea of her reading his thoughts.
With all the progress came more strength and confidence. In hand to hand combat now, she practiced using her touch to grab at powers more easily. The uniform limited her area of touch but it worked. She really enjoyed going through so many mutations. But the more times she took, the more her fingers itched.
And yet with all the advancements she had made, there remained one bridge she couldn't cross. She couldn't make it stop. She couldn't turn it off. Her skin, even after all this time, was still always on. It crushed a bit of her soul each day.
XXX
Gambit arrived in early November, from Louisiana. His suave demeanor and flirtatious accent had Jubilee speculating about which X-woman would be the first to fall into his bed. He was handsome enough. With eyes that glowed red and a knack for slight-of-hand, back home they would have called him slicker than a greased monkey. “The kinda man who'd ruin a girl,” her mother would say.
At the first group training since his arrival, Kitty and Jubes spent a lot of their time watching his demonstration of powers with awe and delight. When he finished, Logan broke them up into pairs to spar.
“Rogue, keep your gloves on,” he'd called. “No powers today, X-geeks. Just flesh and bone.”
She rolled her eyes and yanked her gloves back on. She’d been hoping to get a chance at that handy electrical charge Gambit had. She wondered how different from Jubilee's it would be.
“Would the beautiful Rogue like to partner with Gambit?”
She looked up. He stood only a few feet away but his leer of appreciation at her leather-clad figure could have been seen in the middle of a football field. His Cajun accent was blatantly thick.
When his eyes froze on her chest, she could have groaned in annoyance.
“Eyes up top, Sparky,” she snapped icily. Red orbs snapped up to hers with amusement.
“'Dis beautiful creature's not shy, non?” He sauntered up to her and smiled. “Get to know Remy better, chère.”
She snorted and pushed at the leather in between her fingers to fit it better. She found it incredible. She'd never been outright flirted with. She snapped the connections to the rest of her uniform in place, a special alteration made for her suits to close the gap in between glove and sleeve. She felt his hand brush her cheek before she realized he'd moved closer. Without time to prepare, she hadn't concentrated and her mutation hooked on.
His face contorted in pain and electricity flew from his hand through her face and down her spine. The thing about not being prepared was she couldn't stop the rush. Images of New Orleans crashed into her mind, an endless string of women, lewd thoughts about her own figure.
His body was pulled away and slammed to the floor. Gambit's breath heaved and Storm knelt down to check his pulse.
Rogue's body shook from the electrical current running through her. Wow, she thought. Way stronger than Jube's. Like sticking my finger in a socket.
Logan turned from Gambit and stalked over to her. One hand grabbed at her shoulder while the other dipped into her hair and cradled her face. She blinked rapidly.
“You OK?” He crouched down to look at her face. “Rogue?”
She braced herself in the crook of his arm, trying to incorporate the hum in her bones.
“Damn,” she breathed. She gulped and responded. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just....” She felt a shiver of delicious electricity climb up her spine. “Give me a sec.”
He growled menacingly. “Your eyes are red.” She huffed. He passed her off to Kitty who’d brought her some water and then turned to Gambit who tried to stand shakily with Storm's assistance. He raised his hand and pointed at the man.
“Hey, bub.” He advanced and crowded him with his size, growling deep in his throat. “You tryin' to get your hand sliced off, boy?”
“Logan.” Storm chastised. “It was an accident. He didn't know.”
Logan glared at her menacingly before turning his glare back to Gambit. “You better know what the hell's going on before you go touchin' her, Gumbo. I ever catch you layin’ a hand on her again without her permission and I'll hand you your balls with a nice pink bow tied around them.”
Nope, she thought a bit hysterically. He'd never been very vague.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Next chapter is here. Hope you like it...but I feel writers block a'coming if I don't get more reviews! Oh yes, I did! :)Hope you like it!
Chapter End Notes:
OH, I feel writer's block making me ill and the only cure is reviews, lots of reviews!!!!! :p