You always said that I had multiple personalities
And I've been surrounded somewhere Between my dreams and reality
So where'd you dig up the audacity to ask me
How we've all been doing, since you broke our hearts?

Well so far-
Number five just cries a river a minute
Seven wants to tie you up and drown you in it
Fourteen just wants to say so long-bygones
Thirty-two wants to do things to you that'll make you blush
Ten would key the El Camino that you love so much
And there ain't nobody wants to mess with twenty-three

Oh, Lucky for you, tonight I'm just me.

Lucky 4 You by Shedaisy

---

PROLOGUE

There was a desolate darkness in the air: tangible, living, breathing, surrounding.

It encompassed all who had become more than intricately involved in the battle for one mutant's soul, and it had crossed the mind of more than one if such a battle was even worth the loss.

For no one had won the second battle, both sides had come out scarred, scared, lost and deprived of faith or joy, all anyone could do was wait.

It was a standoff that ended all standoffs, because neither side, nor the isolated groups that now lay in wait for a sign of what to do or where to go, had any sort of upper hand.

And everyone was angry.

It was the anger that slid through their veins.

And it was the anger that slid into one fractured mind, that would finally end it.

---

CHAPTER ONE

The winds that slid over the mountaintops seemed to hum an idle tune, as if afraid to come forth, to burst into full song, as it the winds were waiting.

Indeed, it seemed they all were waiting, though for what, she wasn't sure.

The seat she had taken had grown cold, and she shivered, shifting her hands down so her fingers covered the sides of the rock, and the sparks flew, warming it, warming her body as well.

She slid the coat around her tighter, and the youngest of the X-Men found herself looking back over the meadow that had been turned into a makeshift campsite.

Her mind was clouded with fear, with anger, she knew that.

It still didn't change the opinion that she fostered, the knowledge that she knew must have been obvious to every one of her teammates.

This was more trouble than it was worth.

Jubilee had been commended for her loyalty more than once. Despite her age, and her hot tempered outbursts, it had become apparent that eventually, she would emerge as a true leader, and she was never intimidated by the older, more experienced leaders.

The only one who had ever truly frightened her was Rogue.

It was her eyes.

Rogue had wild eyes, and sometimes Jubilee wondered if anyone else could see it, the haunted agony that seemed to brim beneath the surface, the surface itself so deadly because of that fatal caress.

No one else saw that Rogue had a deeper inhibition, her powers were a manifestation of it. Rogue was a destroyer, and every day, she had battled her mind and her heart in an effort to keep that contained.

For years she wondered why the others couldn't see it, why the others chose not to. Maybe because Jubilee wasn't as close to her as the others were... maybe because they were scared to look deeper into a women who they all owed their lives to at one time or another.

Rogue's battle had never been truly won, Rogue had never come to terms with her mutation or what it meant, and every day, every moment, even as Jubilee trusted her as a friend, a comrade, a leader, she had waited for the dam to break.

The waters were rising very quickly, spilling over, in all of them, and Jubilee waited, keeping watch, wondering how long it would take for someone to lose their footing.

After all, with the waters of tension this high...

Things got slippery when they were wet.

---

It had taken him three hours to find the isolated cabin, the broken down place that was windy and cold.

Three hours in which he hadn't allowed himself to think, or to let go of the women in his arms. The small body of the woman with the immense strength shuddered against him occasionally, and his teeth chattered against the cold, eyes narrowed against the blizzard that surrounded him as he trudged through the snow.

Her lips were ice cold, her skin almost blue, her eyes never opening, but her mouth mumbling things that made no sense to him.

And her bare hands slid across his throat, sending icy shivers down his body.

Rogue could touch. HIS Rogue, could touch.

But he couldn't think about that, because the surge that accompanied the thought filled him with such uncertainty and fear and joy and pure rage at what had been done to her that he would become paralyzed for a full minute.

So instead he gathered her shivering form closer, pressed a kiss to her bare forehead, swallowing hard and trudging further, muttering in a low growl, "Almost there, Marie."

He wasn't quite sure how he found the cabin, perhaps the smell, the draw of warmth in his animal instincts, but when he spotted the darkness almost hidden by the blanket of snow, his speed doubled, hope making his heart jump, gathering the woman closer to him and lowering his head against the wind.

It was vacant, and for a full second it crossed Logan's mind that it was quite fortunate for whoever owned the small cabin, because he sure as hell wouldn't have hesitated kicking them out.

The small enclosure was run down, but it was shelter against the bitter cold, and the Wolverine was too tired to care about anything else. He stumbled forward, kicking the door closed behind him, his teeth chattering and his body shaking as he lowered his precious load onto the worn rug on the floor, eyes intensely searching for any sign of injury.

"Marie, baby... you're safe, Marie," he whispered huskily, gathering her small hands in his and rubbing them together, pausing to press the palms to his mouth, breathing hot air onto them.

Marie's eyes were closed, but she was sitting up of her own violation, and when he began to rub at her shoulders roughly, he heard a small moan coming from her cold lips.

"Marie.."

There was a cough, and suddenly she went limp, falling against him. He caught her gently, heart caught in his throat as he gently settled her into his lap, palms against her cheeks.

"Marie..." his voice was raspy, rough, but his eyes were so very intense and dark and oddly gentle, as he looked down at her.

Her eyes opened to find tearstreaked orbs gazing at her own.

Her own violet eyes.

Her teeth chattered together so much, her small slip of a dress providing no protection from the cold, and he immediately shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around her and pulling her closer.

"Marie..."

Her eyes seemed blank as she looked, at first unseeing into his face. Her face was curious, teeth chattering as he continued rubbing as slowly, color began to return to her face.

Her breath was hot, rapid, and she shivered, instinctively burrowing closer into his body, seeking out his warmth.

He felt her body, and his heart lurched, lips pressed against her cheek as he pulled her closer, using his own warmth to warm her colder body.

"Marie..."

And something about the way he said her name made her pause, look up, eyes suddenly focusing, narrowing in concentration.

"Lo... Logannn?" she chattered.

His full throat made it impossible for him to do anything but nod, and as her violet eyes met his in a long intense stare, he found himself smiling at her.

Her hair had fallen into her face, and he gently pulled the white bang from it.

The touch of his fingertip on her forehead made her suck in her breath, and when her gaze fell to his hand, tears suddenly flooded to her eyes, and he felt her heart beat quicken, fear suddenly flooding into her face.

"I don't..." he swallowed. The accent was .. missing... "remember..." she rasped, and her eyes shut closed and she shuddered, pain suddenly wracking through her body.

"God, Marie.." he rasped.

"Logan...what's... what's happening to me?" she whispered, eyes suddenly open, naked pain and fear in them as she looked at him imploringly.

And he could only stare, gather her closer, answer in a gruff form filled with fear and frustration and anger, "I don't know, baby. I don't know."

---

Remy had always had a strange habit he had picked up in his years of thievery. No matter how he slept, he never woke up with opened eyes. They remained closed, but every other sense was alert, vibrant, and with this unusual but useful trademark, he found more out about his comrades than he ever thought possible.

He learned who to trust and who to betray. He learned who to steal from and who was loyal.

He learned the truth.

It was no different now, his body racked with pain, coming to with a sucking in of breath. But his eyes remained closed and his mind, still hazy from sleep and from drug induced nausea, was alert enough to hear what was going on around him.

Trying to place himself, he scrambled to figure out where he was, what had happened, why he was in so much pain, and where Storm was.

Funny the way she was the first thing that popped into his head, accompanied with the gut wrenching fear and the throb in his heart.

What had happened?

Murmurs surrounded him, and breathing evenly, he finally recognized the voices of the Doctor and the leader, speaking in low tones directly above him.

And so, through simple habit, he listened.

"Scott, I refuse to believe that. There has to be a way."

"You don't think this is hard for me to accept too, Jean?"

"Scott, those are our friends out there! Our teammates!"

"The last time we came to save one. We lost three and nearly lost Remy too. Don't you think we're in over our heads?"

A pause filled the air, and when Jean answered him, her voice was quieter, almost deadly in it's answer, "You don't think Rogue, or Storm or even Logan would quit if it was you?"

"Jean, don't make this personal."

"It IS personal."

Apparently this was too much for them, because suddenly the air was silent, a signal that meant it was continued in their heads.

He waited, until finally he heard Jean's quieter voice, signaling a sense of defeat, "I know, Scott.I just..."

"It's the best thing."

What?! Remy's eyes shot open and he sat up, making Jean jump and Scott look at him in surprise.

"NO! Whatever de hell you say! NO!."

Jean immediately tried to push him back down, but the red-eyed thief merely shrugged her off, staring at Scott in anger and disbelief.

"You can't... we can't just leave 'em. Dey-"

"Remy, lie down-"

"I won't-"

*REMY LIE DOWN*

The command rang through him, flooding his senses, and before he knew it he was on his back again, eyes rolling up to snap at the doorway.

"Professor," Jean whispered, relief on her face.

Professor Charles Xavier wheeled into the makeshift lab, face stern, solemn, and so very sad.

"Professor." Scott came forward, and Charles merely nodded, a troubled look on his face.

"I've been briefed, thank you Scott," he answered in a clipped tone.

Remy swallowed, lying back, watching as the telepath wheeled forward, concern etched on his features.

"Professor," he managed, "Don't let dem go."

Charles shot the two team leaders a look, and Jean shrugged, sadness clouding her beautiful smile. Scott himself was immobile, looking frozen behind the red lenses.

He turned back the bare chested thief, leaning forward, a small, grim smile on his face.

"Tell me what happened, Remy. All of it."

---

She had been in frigid temperatures many a time and never felt a thing. Her body and her mutation allowed a certain transcendence of such things as extreme temperatures. Flying through a blizzard had never affected her as it had affected Rogue, who had always commented that she felt she was "Freezing her ass off and if she had any balls they would have cracked an' fell off too" in the frigid weather.

But now, she truly felt cold.

The white-haired woman who sported the nickname Goddess and held the name with such grace as no one could, wrapped her arms around her body, rubbing lightly as she circled the room slowly.

She expected to die, eventually.

This had never affected her, because as an X-Men she had long been aware that the inevitable consequences of a life such as hers would be a loss of it.

It was the fact that she was not dead yet, that filled her with fear.

As long as she was alive, she could be used.

And being used was always something Storm did not tolerate.

A shudder ran through her body as she looked about the room that held her, because Storm never did like pretense.

And this room, with the lavender tones, the velvet cushions, and the rich decor, was a pretense.

It spoke of a person who believed in innuendoes, in games.

And games included pawns.

She was a pawn.

A pawn against Rogue. Against Logan. Against Gambit.

Hands ran through her hair, and her heart jumped into her throat as the door swung open.

Her mouth parted in surprise, and her hair swung around her, eyes locking with the dark eyes man who stood in the doorway.

She was still as she felt his gaze start at her eyes, drift down her body in a long, languid gaze that made her body quiver, and her eyes narrow in anger.

"My, my," he spoke, and his voice was a soft, seductive, very achingly familiar Southern accent. "Rogue does keep good company."

He had Rogue's accent.

Storm took a breath, as their eyes locked again, she felt her throat go dry.

He had Rogue's eyes.

---

She was tired, too tired.

Hands drifted up and rubbed at her tired eyes, and Jubilation Lee sighed, shivering in the cold as she stood guard over the makeshift camp. Agitation filled her as she looked behind her, a hundred feet or so, to the figures moving in and out of the white covered tents that were barely visible.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another figure trudging toward her, a spot of black among the blanket of snow.

Jubes waited, and smiled as her friend offered her a half frozen grin.

"Hey. Here to relieve you."

"Thanks, Kitty," Jubes shivered, sending sparks to her fingers to warm them up. "I sure could use a break."

"And here," the auburn haired women only a few months older than Jubilee handed her a steaming cup of dark coffee. "It's been a long day. Looks like you might need it."

Jubilee took it with a grin, falling into silence, as the other woman shifted her feet, looking about the forest.

"You wanna say something, so spill it," Jubilee cracked, raising an eyebrow.

Kitty looked almost guilty, caught in her hesitation, and when she smiled, it was a sheepish, guilty grin that was more sad than it was anything else.

"I just... I love Rogue. Really."

"But."

"But... "

"This is getting crazy, I know," Jubilee muttered, breathing out softly. "Damn," she swallowed. "Didn't think it'd hurt that much to say it out loud."

Kitty didn't answer, instead her eyes were clouded, a troubled frown on her face. "In high school, we used to stay up together, talkin' and stuff. Remember? I had this crush on Bobby that never really seemed to go away-"

"Still hasn't," Jubes offered, her eyes twinkling with a saddened mirth.

Kitty blushed, but licked her lips, continuing her story. "Rogue knew he was head over heels in love with her. But she... she never did anything. She told me... our friendship meant too much. And when I told her that... it didn't mean anything.. she could do what she wanted... she said it meant something to her." Kitty shrugged, running a hand through her short tousled hair. "I... I don't wanna lose that kinda friendship, Jubes. But after finding out what she did to Logan... what's happened since then..."

Jubilee was quiet, watching as Kitty struggled with her inner emotions.

"Makes me wonder if there's any of that Rogue left inside to save, is all."

The Asian woman bit her lip, staring at Shadowcat with a searching stare. "If you had to... if it was down to Rogue against us... would you... be able to..."

The sentence was left unsaid, and Kitty shot her a sharp look, sucking in her breath. "It can't come to that."

"But if it does?"

Kitty took a deep breath in, crossing her arms, her eyes dark and glittering dangerously. "Then we're screwed." Jubilee gave her a questioning look, but Kitty merely patted her and dismissed her. "Go on. Get out of here. They need you."

Jubilee nodded, walking away quickly, eyes blinking against the glare of the sun on the snow, despite the sunglasses she was never without.

Rogue had done the same for her. Although she was never as close as Kitty was to the vixen, Jubilation Lee's outgoing attitude and Rogue's own sparky nature made them natural comrades for some of the school's more legendary pranks.

Rogue was a great friend.

What Jubilee feared, what made her stomach twist, was the thought that would eventually paralyze the group, or so she feared.

Rogue could make an equally brilliant enemy.

---

Sometimes the simple act of living is what causes the most agony.

Existing and existence, sliding through time as she stood still, the world sliding around her, ever present, ever watching.

There was a chasm deep within her that she could never fill, and she never wondered at it, never paused to even try to fill it, for her purpose, although unknown, was always so much more important.

She was quiet and still, muttering hardly a word, and though the others thought her strange, she never questioned, or dissuaded, or gave them any other reason to doubt their own assumptions. The truth was such a very fickle thing, and she knew it well.

The wisdom seeped inside her, and her heart slid into a chasm of pieces, breaking so loudly, and yet so silently, as the tears slid through her, the maelstrom in her body ever subservient to her will not to surrender, not to move.

To move would worsen the agony.

To move would have made the pain worse.

To move would have been to admit it had gotten the better of her.

And the silent agony of the present crept through her, and still she didn't move.

She was waiting for the present to die away.

Waiting for the future to claim her.

Waiting for the past to creep away from her thoughts.

And knowing, in the end, that it was all futile, for as the visions and voices and memories racked through her body, her eyes wide open, seeing and yet unseeing, she knew the truth.

The past would always be a step behind her.

The present would always cling to her.

And the future would never come.

It was futile. It was hopeless. And still she fought.

If only for the sake of doing anything at all.

She was frozen, she neither moved, nor ate.

Her body shook silently, and words of whimpers accompanied the pain in her voice, as she lay still, head in her lap, doing nothing but shivering.

She was battling for her mind, and in the realm of the psychotic, there wasn't a damn thing he could do.

He held her, kept her close, the pale skin that had never been touched until now soft and tender against his own, seeming so alive, even as she seemed half dead.

The rage and the fury were accompanied with a paralyzing fear as he could do nothing but wait, for he knew, that in this, he was powerless.

And in the darkness and dankness of an abandoned cabin that seemed to shiver with cold, and dead loneliness, he could only press his lips against the woman's head, whisper silently that he loved her, and pray.

Logan was not a praying man, but he prayed like hell that night.

For in the paradox of that action, was the only semblance of hope that he had.

---

Charles Xavier was a man who rarely showed any emotion other than kindness. In the handsome features that never seemed to age, was a wisdom that Jean Grey-Summers knew they relied on possibly a bit too much.

Charles was not going to be around forever, this she knew only too well. It was a fear she had hidden deep within her, because she, in the recesses of her mind, when she spoke to him the way only two telepaths could, had actually been able to comprehend the uncomprehensible.

Charles Xavier had a secret that only she knew.

Charles Xavier was not immortal.

His days were numbered.

And only the two of them knew how small in number they actually were.

The lump settled in her throat as she watched him, felt the turbulence in her head as the tremendously strong telepath struggled to control his emotions, never letting anything slip to his features, not even when Gambit mentioned the loss of Storm.

He knew it all, he could have simply melded with Gambit and been done with it, but this simply wasn't Charles' way.

Instead he waited patiently as Gambit explained what he knew, as Scott explained what he knew, and then one look at her, his chosen leader, the one he had been grooming to take his place, and he had more or less everything they knew, and something else that had almost been lost.

He had their faith, their hope, and again Jean felt the stab in her heart that she had to hide.

How could he stand it?

He didn't have the answers anymore than they did.

"I see." He put his hands together, rested his chin on top of them, in the stance that they took for deep and meditative thinking. She felt Scott's hand squeeze her, and she flashed him an uneasy smile, looking back at her mentor, and in many ways, her father. "Jean?"

"Yes, Charles?" she responded.

His gaze at her was not of a student, but as an equal, and Scott and the rest of the group had never questioned her ability to call him by his first name when everyone else, with the possible exception of Rogue on her "Magneto days", called him Professor.

"What do you think?"

She took in a shaky breath, trying to think of something to say, and found no words coming to her dry mouth.

"I ... I don't know."

"Neither do I."

Gambit bit his lip, fingers clenching at the edge of the bench, and Scott himself gave a quick indrawn breath that only she heard.

So imperceptibly, she noticed Charles' hands were shaking slightly.

"Count them off," he continued, his voice soft, but edged in intensity. "Logan. Missing. Rogue. Missing. Storm. Missing." He pursed his lips, closing his eyes. "And we almost lost Gambit as well. May I ask who let them go in without back up?"

"It was a group decision," she answered immediately. "But if you have to choose a decision maker-"

"It was me," Scott answered immediately. "I thought it the best thing to do, under the circumstances."

Charles' gaze leveled on him, piercing eyes delving into the red shades, but the stoic leader didn't flinch.

"Do you regret the decision, Scott?"

"If I had I wouldn't have made it."

"Hmm." Charles' voice was neither condemnation nor appreciation for Scott, but a simple acceptance of the facts. "And we know next to nothing of this Augustus?"

"Only what Bobby figured out."

"He's mean, Professor." Remy's voice cracked only slightly, and he craned his neck, attempting to get the feeling back in them. "But I know he don't have Rogue anymore."

Charles closed his eyes, breathing in slightly, and when his eyes opened, they focused completely on Jean.

He cocked his head, and immediately she came forward.

"Come," he said.

And she followed him out of the tent, leaving the two men to watch, to wonder. She felt the burden on her shoulders and her heart shivered, not with anticipation, but with fear.

She knew why he had chosen her.

And it was a choice she hadn't wanted.

Because it was the hardest choice of all.

---

"Mint?"

"No, thank you." Her voice had managed to remain calm, and Storm inwardly thanked the deep control she had fostered, for her head was a whirlwind, her heart was beating entirely too fast, and she was rapidly losing patience.

Clayton Augustus merely smiled, popping one of the fine chocolates into his mouth and savoring the taste, much like he savored everything else in life, she suspected. When he was through, he gave her another look of admiration, coming forward with a genuine smile, mouth slightly open as his fingers reached forward and slid through the long white strands of her hair.

"Extraordinary," he breathed, with such wonder and excitement she found herself shivering, pulling away before he had time to taint the strands with his wickedness. He noticed, and the action made him smile, as he turned and sat in a comfortable armchair, reaching for another mint before beginning. "I apologize if I'm not at my best," he drawled. "My body's going through a rather curious change, and it's a bit harder to adjust than I expected. The little vixen is stronger than I anticipated."

Something in Storm's stomach plummeted, and immediately she knew who the little vixen was.

"Where is she?"

"I was hoping you could answer that question for me-" he paused, taking in a breath, closing his eyes and wincing in pain before opening again, the orbs suddenly a pristine violet. "You see I can feel her inside of me, she's damn confused." A chuckle followed that comment. "But she seems to respect you a great deal. 'Don't piss her off', she keeps saying." He paused, a thumb on his lips before smirking at her. "After the beating you gave my winds, I would tend to agree."

"The winds are mine," Storm replied stiffly.

"So you've proved."

There was silence, and suddenly he stood, cocking his head, searching his mind and searching her, a smile on his face. "Ororo Munroe, African native, revered as a goddess by her family and tribe until it was discovered she was nothing more than a mutant. She was shunned, beaten, and left for dead. She survived on the streets of Cairo, among other places, before being recruited by one Charles Xavier to become an "X-Men". Since then she's worshipped the man, and lived a life something akin to a nun. A bit of a surprise considering your rather colorful past with men." He paused as she swallowed, the chill coming down her spine. "Not that I blame you, what with that terrible complex with control you seem to have. Always afraid of losing it. Afraid of killing someone, or hurting someone you love. Kinda like what happened in that little village-"

"SHUT UP," she barked, and her eyes milked over slightly and the thunder clapped against the barred windows, making him smile.

"My dear Ororo, it's mutants like you that make me love your kind. Or shall I say... our kind."

"I don't like games, Augustus."

"Yes, I know that too." He clapped his hands, and servants suddenly came forward, leaving trays on the desk, disappearing as soon as they had come. "I respect that enough. Rogue loved games. She was getting quite good at them. Things were getting fun. But she's gone. And that's why you're here. I want my Rogue back. She doesn't like me very much. But she likes you. They all do. You're their little goddess. Their little instrument of worship. Just the right combination of spice and danger. They had no idea how dangerous you are, did they?" He grinned. "I love that."

"They won't risk another mission to try and save me."

"Oh they won't. But she will. If there's enough of her left to want to save you. And if there isn't, well then, she'll come back to me regardless, because then she'll belong to me." He smiled, reached for her hand, and kissed it gently. "Either way, I win. The game's lost, Ororo, so you needn't worry about playing."

Her jaw was clenched tight, her heartbeat tumultuous, but she stood her ground, eyes probing inside of his.

"Unless you'd rather we start one of our own."

The door closed behind him, and he was gone in a click, and the panic that threatened to overwhelm her slid through her veins, as she closed her eyes, tears brimming ice cold on her ebony skin.

If there was enough of her left. Then Rogue would come and she would be killed, most likely they both would, and the X-Men would come and everything would be lost.

If there wasn't. Then Rogue was truly beyond saving and the same would happen.

Good Lord, she wasn't sure which she wanted less.

---

Chapter Two

He swallowed hard, watching as the women he had thought he had known lay in a corner, form silent, still, trembling ever so slightly. Every few minutes she would take a deep shuddering breath, haggard and hard, and so incredibly full of pain.

He felt so powerless, so out of control, his heart planted permanently in his throat, still in the same position that she had left him in, after she had pushed him away and yelled at him in a voice not quite her own to not dare touch her.

Swallowing, he licked his lips, trying desperately to get the words to come through his lips.

"Marie."

She didn't respond, one hand reached out and scratching at the floor.

"Rogue."

Her eyes opened slightly, the moisture in the orbs surprising them with his intensity. She smiled slightly, the first emotion she had seen as her eyes connected with his own.

"Logan," she said distinctly, with no drawl that had always caught at the bottom of her voice until now. "Logan. Lover."

"Marie," he rasped, bending forward, crawling gently, scared to touch her, afraid of so much, so much more than he had ever been afraid of in his life.

She came forward, crawling, hand over hand, until her face was inches from his own, until her eyes bore into his, he could see the flecks of darkness in the violet eyes, until her breath tickled, mingled with his own.

In her eyes was pure desire, pure knowledge of her power of her him as he felt himself short of breath, found himself staring at her perfect lips, her perfect mouth, her violet eyes.

"Logan," she whispered, and her voice turned distinctly British. "What are you going to do when she's completely gone?"

He growled, falling back in a startled surprise, and Marie laughed harshly and suddenly, as quick as it had come, the laughter stopped and the woman reached for his hand, grabbing it, the alloy in his knuckles suddenly jumping in attention.

Her fingers cupped his chin with incredibly strength, and he was helpless as she jerked his face to meet hers, mouth suddenly ravaging his in an intimate, searing kiss.

He found himself falling back helplessly as he groaned, feeling Marie's hot tongue branding his, hands sliding over his in a savage gesture of possession, very angry, very desperate, and very Rogue.

He gasped for breath, his mind and thoughts whirling and something in his mind clicked against the act, and he pushed her away with all the strength he could muster, and still it was not enough, as Marie's immense strength manifested itself as she held him down.

His eyes lolled upward, his chest arched under her questing hands and her hot breath was suddenly under his ear, moist and heavy, whispering in a raspy, violent tone.

"This is what you want, isn't it Logan?" he heard between gasps, between suckles and nudges as she straddled him, ground her hips against his hardening groin, as he thrust upward in a loss of control. "This was the reason. This is what you wanted. It's what she wanted."

His eyes flew open, and his heart lurched, and in a moment of clarity he bucked her feverish body off of him, rolling with her until she was pinned beneath him, a howl of rage torn from his throat as the knives slid out and lay at her creamy white throat.

"Get out of her," he growled.

And suddenly the body beneath him stilled, and eyes blinked and teared, and a southern drawled tinged the honey voice as Marie's eyes focused on him, stopped fighting, so confused, so scared. "Logan? Logan... what am I- What are you- Oh God."

"Marie!" And he slid off of her, gathering her close and shuddering with her trembling body. "I'm sorry, Rogue. I'm sorr-"

But she didn't listen, she only closed her eyes and shivered, teeth chattering, tears eeking from her face as she whispered, "It's not you, Logan."

But his last thought as he fought to control his aroused body, as he prayed for someone, anyone, to find them, was that maybe, just maybe, it was.

---

There were many misconceptions about Jean, but seldom had it annoyed her. For many years she and Scott had been held up on pedestals by the entire school, for the simple reason that it had to be that way.

Storm, the quiet nun-like goddess, was never discussed as fiercely. Rogue, was given allowances for her bursts of temper because of the personalities running rampant in her head. Logan punched holes in walls and Gambit blasted things and no one blinked twice.

But if Jean or Scott even raised their voices, even looked at each other or someone else in a peculiar way suddenly, things were very wrong.

It was a hard burden to live with, but one they had both accepted at young ages, knowing, without Charles having to tell them, that their lives weren't their own, but given to a cause, and subject to be sacrificed at any moment.

Perhaps that was why she loved Scott with such incredible ardor, because no one in the world could possibly understand her as deeply as he could.

Of course, the truly frightening thing was that in her there were depths that even he couldn't comprehend, a past fear of every living thing that had invaded her mind that had paralyzed her, driven her to near insanity.

No one had seen her with that loss of control, no one had seen the day she sobbed in Charles' lap with relief when she was able to make the voices finally stop, no one was there when she refused to let anyone in her mind ever again.

The urge to feel Scott's love for her, to feel it in her mind, had won her over, and even now he had no idea he had been her first deliberate mindsweep.

Even now she fear the control, feared that the minds in her head would force her to panic, to feel what she felt then, what she feared most.

What came from Rogue.

Jean had never, ever read the turmoil in Rogue's mind, REALLY delved into it, and she never, ever would.

She feared the darkness would overwhelm her, that she wasn't strong enough.

And yet here Charles was, eyes on her, mind in hers, asking the impossible.

"Professor, you can't possibly think I could-"

"Jean I believe you can. I believe you are the only one who can."

Her eyes bore into his, tinged in moisture, her heart in her throat where she knew her strength should have been. Instead she felt the fear that had threatened to take the careful mask of security yet again.

"Charles," she began slowly, thickly. "You obviously have the better mind-"

"Jean, you need to accept this. I won't be around forever."

She felt her heart lurch, her eyes floated down to study the floor as she nodded mutely.

"Then you also know than eventually, you must take my place. All I need to know is if you're willing."

"Oh, I'm willing, Charles. That's not..."

*What scares you?* The thought invaded her mind, and her mouth went dry, a small, exasperated smile flitting across her perfect features before she raised and eyebrow and leaned back, fingers knotting together in a nervous gesture.

*I don't believe... I have enough control yet.*

*Neither did I, but I managed.*

"But you're stronger," she interrupted. "And I-"

"Have just as much potential, and you know it," Charles snapped, his eyes boring into hers. His kind gentle eyes grew firm, and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, regarding her carefully. "Are you so afraid of yourself, Jean, that you'd let them die?"

Her eyes closed at the judgment in his tone, and her breath slid out of her. There it was, laid out on the line, frankly, gently, but ever so truthfully, as Charles always put it for her.

Rogue had once said Jean had peace in her eyes. The look in Rogue's anguished face as she slid her gloved fingertips down Jean's face had made her eyes water and her throat clog, but she didn't dare change Rogue's perception.

People needed to believe she had peace, that she had hope.

Even when her very world was teetering before her.

"I'll do it," she finally whispered. "I'll find them. I won't fail them."

"Wrong," Charles answered, cocking his head slightly, hands on hers in a comforting squeeze. "You will not fail yourself."

And Jean took a shuddering breath, ignoring the insecurity of her ugly duckling childhood, ignoring her beating heart as she nodded hastily.

There was no other option.

She had to find them.

---

Guilt was quite probably the worst feeling that he had ever encountered.

It settled in the pit of his stomach, like a rock, and the usually stoic and tall leader sprawled forward on the table, watching the sleeping Remy with a trembling upper lip and a shuddering heart.

He had let down his team, he had let them all down because he should have known.

He should have known better than to let them go... he had trusted them too much, taken too little responsibility and because of them...

He lost Storm.

He lost Rogue.

He lost Logan.

And it was all the hands of a mad man that was so full of destructive power he had no idea what he was capable or next.

Or how to stop him.

It took everything in him to keep out even the possibility of running.

"When are we finding her?"

The accented voice came out of nowhere, and Scott lifted his head wearily to find Remy's eyes open, watching him.

"Finding who?" he asked heavily.

"Storm. Rogue. Logan."

Scott looked back down, running his fingers through his bangs, which had fallen forward over his glasses, red slants in his tinted world.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly.

Remy was quiet for a moment, just a moment, before he grimaced, pulling himself into a sitting position, looking at Scott.

"The longer we wait, de longer they're in danger."

"I know, Remy."

"Then do something!"

"What do you want me to DO?" Scott snapped angrily, head jerking up to meet his gaze head on. "There's no right answer to this one!"

"But you were willing to leave 'em. Leave Storm and Rogue, two of the best team members we got-"

"To save the team?" Cyclops interrupted, his voice hard and angered. "Yes, Remy. I WAS and I WILL if I have to."

Remy's red eyes have never looked so angry, so fiery as he breathed hard, fighting to contain his emotion toward his leader.

"That's not how to save them."

"You don't think this is hurting me too, Remy? They are my friends."

"Then act like it."

"I can't afford to," Scott bit, knuckles white as his hand wrapped around the corner of his chair. "Not when I have the team to think of. I don't have that luxury. Please Remy. At least understand that."

"Jean's using Cerebro."

Scott's eyes flew open, his jaw dropping slightly as he swung his gaze onto Bobby Drake, as he stepped into the doorway, eyes moving hesitantly between Remy and Scott.

"She... WHAT?!"

"Right now," he confirmed. Ice cold hands slid through the man's bangs as he nodded toward the direction of the large tent. "I just... thought you might want to know."

Scott closed his eyes, taking a haggard breath before opening them, hidden in the red visor, and pushing past the younger man, never even giving Remy a dismissing look as he fell into a jog that quickly became a run as he sprinted toward the tent that held the device that Jean had helped build, that had allowed Charles to channel Cerebro.

His heart beat terribly in his chest, the sense of panic filling him as he remembered she used to dread the machine, but had always carried a fascination for it, a dangerous temptation. The last time she believed herself strong enough to channel her mind to control the fragmented senses and thoughts of everyone in the world at one time, it had hurt her deeply.

Oh, God. She wasn't ready.

His hand clumsily reached for the latch and throwing his body against the door, he flung himself inside, to find Charles Xavier sitting in his chair, staring at him placidly.

"Scott, sit down please."

He felt his throat full, his voice hoarse and raspy as he managed, "Professor is it true?"

"Yes."

"She's not ready."

"She's more than ready."

Scott's hands clenched into fists, fear and anger and horror flooding his mind as he gazed down at the professor, at his father, refusing to sit, his heart beating steadily more fierce.

"It'll HURT her."

Charles let an eyebrow rise up on his forehead, his head cocked as he gazed at Scott with that unnerving stare that made Scott feel completely naked, devoid of any secrets or emotions.

"Sit down, Scott," he said again, firmly, and it was more of a command and less of a suggestion, and with a sigh of helpless frustration, he sank down into his chair.

Charles gave him a small, sad smile, before beginning. "Scott, you've led this team well."

A harsh laugh negated that remark. "I don't think so."

"I do," he repeated. "But at this moment we were facing an enemy that places games of the mind. If he has succeeded in turning Rogue, then we not only face a wizard, but our greatest enemy : our friend... our family. Now I can delve into Rogue, pull out what she needs to pull through. But Jean must find her."

"Why Jean? Professor, you know she's not ready-"

"If not now, then when, Scott? I won't be around forever."

Again, Scott felt the lump in his throat that refused to go away. The professor had been saying that more and more often.

There was a pause, and then the professor continued, "Jean will never test her limits of her mind, never reach her true potential unless she pushes herself."

"Maybe she's not ready to push herself," he whispered, his voice an angered hoarse tone.

Charles only regarded him, his voice incredibly even as he answered, "We no longer have the luxury of allowing the time it takes to make her ready, Scott."

And in his eyes glinted a sadness that flickered for only a second, but it was a second that Scott's red tinted gaze caught, and it caused a shuddering of fear in his heart that made his heart skip a beat and his already full throat to almost close up completely.

Something was wrong with the professor. Something was very wrong.

And perhaps the most frightening thing of all...

No one had bothered to tell him what it was.

---

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out stilled her shaking hands slightly, but her furiously beating heart didn't lesson it's pace, and more than anything Jean wished that the fear in her heart that she had kept out for so long would just dissipate.

She had felt Rogue before, had found her, a long five years ago when Rogue was barely a child, when all she had to contend with was the wildness of Wolverine and the fear of a young human boy who had given Marie her first and last kiss.

It had nearly killed her, the pain in her mind after the senses that had been triggered and heightened had still made her shiver after all this time.

But that was long ago, and she was different then... her powers had become channeled, had become stronger and more refined...

She was more powerful.

She could handle Rogue's mind... Rogue's heart....

But the panic still flitted inside her heart as she stared at the unassuming metal that Charles had placed in her hands, her link to Cerebro at home, her link to the power she knew she could channel so well now.

The self confidence everyone assumed she had made her straighten her shoulders, made her focus her mind and take a deep breath and place the contraption over her head.

But when her mind focused, she found herself scrambling away from the darkness and chaos that had to be Rogue, so afraid to feel it, and instead found herself latching onto something just as fearful, but much easier to take because she had felt it before.

Memories and chaos and pain and doctors and knives and screaming and panic-

Her eyes flew open as she slid out of the chair, her mind splintering with pain as she bit her lip and her hands flew upwards, pulling the metal spiderlike piece off of her head and flinging away from her with disgust.

But her mind retained the information, and she was thankful, so thankful, for just a moment, that she had escaped Rogue's mind, escaped the darkness, and at the same time she was so disappointed-

She took a breath, steadying her mind and stood, her form shaky as she walked toward the door where she knew they would be waiting.

Her hand pulled it open, her eyes caught the men and women waiting, and immediately her eyes found the red lenses of her husband, his face tight and drawn and incredibly scared.

She didn't blame him one bit.

But her tired face had a faint smile, as she gave the group what she hoped was their first piece of good news.

"I found Logan... and he has Marie with him." Sighs of relief were heard all around, as she continued. "They're holed up in a cabin on the other side of the ice box. But from the looks of Logan's mind... she's in bad shape."

Charles pursed his lips, but that was all the emotion he would allow, as the smiles on the faces of the other's faltered slightly.

"And... Storm?" Remy's voice drifted above the others, as he pushed his way through the group, his face hopeful, sad, hand holding onto his injured left shoulder as he swallowed.

Jean felt her heart constrict slightly. "She's... not with them." Remy's eyes cast downward as she took another deep breath and turned to Scott. "We don't have much time."

"Right." The tone was slightly hoarse, but his face betrayed none of the emotion she knew must have been rampant in his eyes as he turned, immediately pointing out the team members assigned to the jet. "Jubilee, Bobby, let's go."

"I'm going too." Remy's face was resolute, and when Scott was about to disagree, Charles nodded slightly.

"Scott, let him come," Jean said, her eyes on Charles', who moved slightly and then turned in his wheelchair, moving into the room she had just come out of.

She saw the way the left hand trembled, the way his head leaned forward slightly.

Her chest rose and fell once, and she closed her eyes, took a breath, and turned back to the group.

"Let's go."

---

When he was a child his father called him a weakling, a young splinter of a child who would amount to nothing...

A man with no destiny.

Rubbish.

Augustus felt the splinter of pain invade his consciousness again and he took a deep breath, hands gripping the side of his chair as he focused his energy, used all his years of study that still did not prepare for the invasion, for the strong, powerful, completely independent personality that carried so many conflicting minds with it.

How had she borne it?

And yet... it was so incredibly amusing and astonishing: every single entity she had managed to mold together, to shift and make her own, each building up to the piece of the puzzle that was Rogue.

With each mind she had learned to control: the strength that came from Logan, the wisdom that came from Magneto, the heart that came from Marie, Rogue had become more and more the person her destiny had alluded to.

A destiny that he had been so sure of. A destiny that should have been sacrificed and given to him.

So why was she still fighting? And why was he allowing her to fight him, instead of taking the mind that should have so completely belonged to him?

He could feel her drumming through his veins, whispering in his thoughts, whispering things that she should not have been whispering to him, making him want things that were not supposed to be wanted.

He had wanted the mind, not the women. The game had been a cerebral game, and the seduction was merely a tantalizing side note.

But her eyes glimmered to him and her body shifted under his in his dreams, her lips swollen from the kisses he had yet to give her, and her hips arching as she drifted toward an orgasm he had never given her.

And he hated Logan - the man they called Wolverine - with an intense... unabiding passion. Hated him as much as Marie wanted him, as Rogue needed him.

He wanted her mind... he wasn't supposed to want the body too... the body was inconsequential... it had been her powers that were his destiny...

Not her.

Never her.

But her warmth washed over him and he closed his eyes, breathing in steadily as her memories flashed through his mind, as her life flashed over him as he saw herself through his eyes, in his body, and it filled him with a pulsating need... with a twisted desire to possess her mind... body... and soul.

And the body was currently being held by the man who he most despised, a man with a gift he had never wanted or needed, took for granted, a man who might as well have been called animal.

A man that owned Marie body and soul... a man who Augustus would have barely looked at-

Had Marie not been Rogue's heart.

And he wanted Rogue.

He wanted Rogue badly.

His chest rose and fell and his body arched as another wave of Rogue induced nausea flit through him, feeding him, making him feel alive.

He shouldn't have cared what happened to the body when he had the mind.

Perhaps the problem was that the mind was totally not his... perhaps he needed the body to complete the mind.

Yes... that was the solution, that was the reason why he longed to feel the body under his... feel the mind rushing through him into the body... feel an intimacy that had eluded him for a lifetime.

It was nothing else.

It could be nothing else.

---

The violet eyes were never more vibrant as she regarded him, and Logan had never felt so aware of the fear gnawing away at his heart as he did the moment he realized there was no fear in Rogue's eyes.

Her body would convulse slightly, but her eyes were aware and every minute it seemed she was getting stronger, at times never even looking at him and other times staring at him as if there was no one else who existed.

"Logan," she began, her hand sliding to her shoulder as she slid his jacket off of her shoulders.

"Marie- no. You need that-"

"Who the hell is Marie?" she asked frankly, her eyes riveted around the room. "This doesn't belong to me. This isn't mine." Her eyes clouded in confusion and suddenly her mouth smirked in mirth and she raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Did ya break in, Logan?"

The twinge of Southern in her voice made his heart beat slightly, and he could only force himself to swallow and come forward, wrapping the jacket around her once more.

"You'll catch cold," he said gruffly. "Last thing we need is you getting sick before we get you better."

"Better?" she repeated, her voice smooth as molasses as she slid her hands up the leather of his uniformed torso. "I am better, Logan. I can... she can... FEEL YOU."

Her mouth was suddenly on his throat and he felt his eyes close as he let out an uncontrolled groan, grabbing her arms, and pushing her away before he could be sucked into the same trap as before.

"Marie- get a HOLD of yourself. I know you can."

Her eyes blinked and she once again looked steadily into his eyes, trying to get her bearings as her head sunk down against his shoulder.

"You're my heart, Logan," he heard her muffled whisper. "Hold me, Logan. You're my heart."

His beating organ shuddered at the words and his eyes glistened as he fought the urge to panic.

He couldn't leave her alone...

But he couldn't just stay here... Rogue needed help... Marie needed help.

She shivered, and suddenly her eyes were so clear as she looked at him, a faint, scared smile on her lips.

"Logan this is ... it's never been like this... he's... the others... they never tried... he's eating me inside out."

His eyes drifted closed and he swallowed, pulling her closer to him, holding her tight.

She swallowed, her voice shaky, her eyes wide open as she continued, "I'll be okay... I can do what I did with the others... I can... Logan I'm afraid to absorb him."

"Just do to him what you did to the others, Rogue."

Her mouth quirked into a smirk. "That's not an option."

The chill than ran through him was quickly followed by a startled growl when the door suddenly pounded.

"Logan!"

His eyes narrowed, and he gently pulled Marie to the side, covering her with the jacket. "Stay here," he whispered. When she nodded shakily, he gave her a quick brush of his lips against her forehead, before turning toward the door, the claws extending as he crouched in front of her.

"LOGAN!" The door pounded again, and suddenly a red blast melted the lock and four black clad individuals burst into the room, led by Cyclops, his hand raised to his visor.

Logan froze, his heart forgetting to beat for just a second, as his eyes descended on his teammates.

"Logan," Jean said against desperately, coming forward, hands on his forearms as she looked at him, then behind him to the scared figure shivering. "Are you-"

His heart jolted with relief, and it was quickly replaced with anger as he grabbed her, the blades sliding in as she jumped in his grasp. "What the hell took you so long?"

Jean cocked an eyebrow, gave him a sad frown, and he swallowed, shaking his head as he let her go.

Remy was already at Rogue's side, his dark eyes vibrant with moisture as he took a breath, reaching out to her with one gloved hand.

"Don't touch her!" Logan growled, stepping away from Jean and back to Rogue's side.

Remy gave him a puzzled look and Scott was immediately going to speak when he continued hastily, "she's fighting. She's lost the touch but I don't know how long-"

"It'll last." Rogue's voice broke through Logan's even, tense tone, and her hands gripped Remy's, letting her pull him up. "Gambit," she breathed, and her head cocked and she smiled a devilish smile that didn't belong to her.

She turned to look at Scott and the leader sucked in his breath, taking a step back in surprise. "Her eyes."

"They're violet," Jean whispered, coming forward, her dark eyes narrowing in concentration as Rogue turned, her head swiveling to meet her gaze head on. Jean laid a gentle hand on her naked shoulder, and at the contact, Rogue looked down.

"Jean?"

"Hello, Rogue."

"Hi, Jean," she said, and her hand came up and entangled their fingers.

Logan watched, hands in fists at his sides as Rogue lifted Jean's gloved hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm. Eyes were riveted on the scene as her face leaned forward and she whispered in Jean's ear.

No one was close enough to hear, but everyone saw Jean's face go white and how she immediately let go of Rogue's hand, running into Scott's chest on the way back and blindly reaching for his fingers.

Logan gritted his teeth, pulling Rogue away from Remy and scooped her up against his chest. "Told you not the touch her, Jean," he answered gruffly, moving past her. "She's fighting the bastard in her head."

Scott's head jerked to watch Logan and Remy go out the door, and then turned to Jean, hands cradling her head tenderly. "You okay? What did she say?"

Jean seemed shaken, but she only took in a breath, gave her husband a tight smile and shrugged slightly. "Nothing important."

"Jean."

"Come on," she interrupted, pulling him outside the small, freezing cabin, head ringing and body trembling from the words that had been whispered into her thoughts, in Rogue's lilting tongue.

*Had to look for him instead of me, didn't you? Afraid of the darkness Jean? Coward.*

---

Chapter Three

Storm had often fostered the notion that people were defined by their childhood.

As a child, she had grown in a loving family, until all she knew and all she wanted to know was taken away with the sudden discovery of what she was.

Her life had changed and her body and heart had been broken that day, and there had never been a situation that had shaped her mind, her ideals, her fear more than at the moment when she felt completely and utterly alone.

She suspected Rogue felt quite the same way, for she herself had been rejected by her family and though she had not been beaten by a tribal clan, the heartache still had been Marie's heart.

It was for that reason that they battled for control, because the security that had been denied them as a child, they sought to attain now.

She strongly believed Augustus carried the same ideals.

She had rarely met a man with as much drive, and as much delusion as Augustus had, and the fact that they were focused on one very fractured mind...

It did nothing to assuage her fear that she would not get out of this alive.

Life was a battle for control for Storm, and she had fought so long and so hard that she had barely time to allow her own feelings access to her heart, and even now, with her body trembling and her eyes milking she fought not to think of the red-eyed Cajun with the beautiful smile and the wild hair.

Her fingers were pressed against her mouth when the door opened, and her eyes were forced back to the dark color they were originally, and her trembling form was forced to still by a well trained mind, as she looked upon Clayton Augustus.

He was a handsome man, she would give him that much, and if it hadn't been for the eyes that fostered so much fear at the chaos behind them, Storm would almost have believed he could be beaten by their small team.

As it was, she feared only that he had all of Rogue's secrets in his head, and if that was true.

Then God help them all.

"Ororo."

"Augustus," she answered with practiced ease, leaning back on the comfortable cushioned chair the room had been furnished with.

Her eyes slid to the white animal in his arms, and the corner of her eyes crinkled in surprise. The Siamese was beautiful, and from her position she could hear her purring.

His eyes drifted down to the point of her gaze, and she found a sincere smile coming from his perfectly formed lips.

"Cats," he began, "are the most deliciously human animals in existence. Forget apes and chimps, cats have the true nature that human's possess. They are complicated things, and utterly majestic." His hands slid through the fur of the Siamese, before carefully setting it on a nearby dresser, running his hand up the rump. Storm watched as the cat preened under the attention, opening her eyes to reveal startling blue orbs that matched Storm's own in intensity.

Augustus' own seemed to flicker, and whether they were now permanently violet or the darkness that matched Rogue's was more uncertain.

His hand trembled slightly, but his face never lost his even expression as he sat across from her, his hands drifting together as he said quite simply, "Tell me about the man you call Wolverine."

It wasn't a request, and Storm knew that she had no choice but to answer.

"What do you want to know?"

"I want to know how he works," he answered easily.

"Rogue should be able to tell you that. She knows him better than anyone."

"Rogue is too confused to be of much use right now," he answered, his fingers rising to his temples to massage lightly as he grimaced in pain. "She's a fighting girl. You'll do just as well."

"You know as much as I do," Ororo responded. "Perhaps more."

"I know enough," he answered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Then there is nothing I can tell you."

"It seems to me you understand them both more than you let on." When she said nothing, he continued. "You see Ororo, the study of the X-Men has been my obsession for quite some time now. Until a few months ago I wasn't sure which of you was my destiny. You, with the control, and Jean with her incredibly darkness that she seems to fear so much or Rogue." A small smile flitted upon his lips and he shook his head slightly. "That is a character. In her head, Storm is more control than you could ever want. It takes immense strength to deal with the personalities as well as she has. But one continues to remain. He is no longer welcome."

"You want to banish Logan from her mind?"

"I want to do to more than that. I want to eradicate him completely. Rogue's mind is no longer her own. I do not like him. Therefore, out he goes," he finished, with a flourish of an immaculately mannered hand.

She had to smile.

His own self confident smirk vanished, and the hard glint in his eyes that replaced it did not look promising.

"May I ask," he asked after a beat, "Just what is so funny?'

Storm found herself shrugging, and said immediately, "You don't get Rogue without Logan."

His lips twitched and suddenly the dangerous smile returned. "I don't get Marie," he responded. "There's the difference. The truth is, darling Ororo, you have never met Rogue, you only think you have. All you've met are shadows, glimpses, tainted with what she was before. Marie cannot exist without Logan. She is the link, the heart. I don't want Marie. I only want Rogue."

The smile had long since left her face, and her heart was beating furiously as he came forward, hands on either side of chair, leaning in, pausing to breathe in her scent. His eyes had become brilliantly violet.

"Still want to play?" he whispered, and suddenly his lips were on hers.

A shiver jolted through her and she fought, hiking up her leg, planting her foot on his chest with remarkable agility and kicking him back.

He stumbled over the chair behind him before he had a chance to right himself, and he fell flat on his back, recovering from his fall with a snarl which matched the milky white of her eyes in intensity.

His hands were in fists, and as he came forward, he reeled backward, a hand on his head as he shook violently.,

Her chest was heaving as she glared at him, temper rising to match his, outweighing the fear.

He slowly took a breath, staggering to his feet. "Marie," he breathed, blinking once, twice. His eyes were curiously back to dark brown and when he spoke, the Southern accent ran chills down her body.

"Looks like we're playing, sugar," he drawled.

And he backed out the room, scooping up the cat on his way out.

---

The tense silence in the room was interrupted only when Remy groaned slightly, massaging at his injured shoulder.

Jubilee felt her heart beating a little faster as she saw the haunted look in Remy's eyes that she seen only once before : when Storm was hurt only a few short weeks ago.

Weeks that seemed years.

The absense of Storm hung over them like a dirty blanket, and although Rogue was now safely in their camp, she really didn't think any idea if Rogue was really... their Rogue anymore.

Remy had told Kitty, Kitty had told Bobby, who told St. John, who told her about how Rogue had whigged out Jean, and Jean was NOT the type to whig out so completely in front of them.

It was creepy.

It was damn scary.

And so they sat, waited, the rest of the team that were deemed not important enough to be let in on the loop but important enough to see Rogue, to try and talk sense into her, waiting to figure out if the truth was what Jubilee had feared all along.

Just how far gone was Rogue?

When the mutant bitch had tried to take over Rogue's head, it had been different. No one had seen Rogue and no one had gone in to try and contain her but Storm, Jean, Charles and Scott. Just like today, just like it had been for the past week, her high school friends, the newest X-men members, were kept on the outside, never knowing what was going on, never being told until Storm had made a point to come out and explain to them about the mental battle that had just been won.

When Rogue finally reemerged, no one had known just how far it had gone until they woke up to find her screaming at the top of her lungs that she was stuck on the ceiling and couldn't come down.

How freaky was it to live like that, never coming to terms with one mutation only to inherent two more?

And now...

The door opened and the professor wheeled in, followed by Cyclops. Their faces were drawn, tense, and they showed no emotion as Jean followed, her face also void of any feeling. They sat at the front of the table, and the gazes all moved to the doorway with discernable dread that inhabited Jubliee's heart as well.

When Rogue entered the room, she clung to Logan's hand, dressed in the black spandex that had become her trademark, the white bangs falling forward, covering her face, never revealing anything until she slid into the seat left vacant, bare hands reaching up to pull the bangs from her face-

To reveal intense violet eyes.

Next to her, Kitty audibly gasped, and Iceman squirmed in his head, swallowing hard.

Rogue only smiled slightly, fingertips drumming against the makeshift table.

"Good evening."

Jubilee leaned forward, looking closely, found that on inspection, Rogue's hands were jittering.

"She's not quite herself," Jean said, her voice low, as she addressed the group.

"But ya'll wanna find Storm, doncha?" Her voice was coated in a deliberate drawl, leaning back in the seat as her eyes caught Jean's. "Am I right?"

"Marie," Logan interrupted hoarsely, hand coverings hers.

Jubilee felt her throat constrict at the sight of Logan's bare skin touching her own.

The tone seemed to work however, because the darkness in Marie's eyes glistened slightly, and the violet suddenly seemed to turn into a bit of brown and she began slowly, "It's part of the game."

"What game?" Charles asked, his voice clear, audible.

A small smile crept up on Rogue's lips. "Come on, Charles, you had to have noticed I'm not really myself. It's the game we're playing. I'm sorry you got sucked into it. But you had no choice. I had no choice really. It was the gamble."

"What gamble, Rogue?" Charles' tone was easy, conversational even. Jubilee was finding the whole thing pretty disconcerting.

"Destiny. Fate. Love. Life." She gave a short chuckle, shrugging slightly, looking much like the child she left behind as she continued, "You don't have to worry about it. The game's already lost."

"I don't think any one here is willing to accept that, Rogue," Jean answered carefully.

The smile grew wider. "Of course you can't accept it if you're not willing ta play." Her eyebrow rose meaningfully and even from where she was sitting, Jubilee could still see Jean pale slightly.

Her stomach sunk even further.

Remy broke up the silence by leaning forward, "Rogue, where is Storm? You care about Storm, no?"

Rogue froze slightly, eyeing Remy with those freaky violet-hued eyes. "Of course. I love Storm. Ororo has layers... hidden darkness and control that you never noticed until it was too late. You lost her, Remy, before you even had her."

Kitty buried her face in her hands and shuddered slightly.

"Rogue." The word came out in a hoarse whisper, one that was almost painful to hear. "Where is she?"

Rogue was quiet, her hands pressed against her mouth for a second, her eyes darker brown, less violet than they were before. "You know the games lost already. By being here, you complicate things. Storm is as good as dead. And so is Marie."

Logan's hand lurched out, grabbed a hold of her, but she didn't flinch, nor did she look at the pained look on his face as she turned, eyeing everyone in turn.

"Logan, let go." Her voice was even, more even than it had been in the passed, and her mouth never did lose that smile that seemed so dangerous as she continued, her eyes suddenly on Professor X, voice directed at him. "You know what will happen when he gets through, don't you, professor?"

Charles gazed at her, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Seconds later he flinched, pulling back.

She cocked an eyebrow, turning back to all of them. "Let her go. Let us go. You're killing her, if you go after her. I'm warning you now. The game is lost."

Remy rose forward, hands on the table, and Jubilee didn't stop him, finding herself uncharacteristically quiet, watching the eyes of the stranger in the face of a friend.

"You have to fight, Rogue," Jean said quietly, her voice soft, reassuring.

"Why?" Rogue stood, breathing in shakily, leaning against the table for support. "The game is over, and even if it wasn't, Storm doesn't know how to play. When Augustus gets through with her, she'll be worse off, and I know."

"How do you know?" Scott asked.

She was quiet for second, and suddenly she shrugged. "Because I'll kill her."

Bobby shot straight up and Remy roared, and Logan immediately grabbed Rogue, pulling her away from the table.

"LET ME GO!" she cried, struggling against Logan. "The game's OVER!"

Tears were sliding down Kitty's face, Bobby had frozen his seat, Jean was shaking visibly, and Scott's fist was clenched against the table.

But Jubilee showed no sign of any fear or tension that was running rampant around the room.

In the aftermath of Rogue's spectacle, there was only one thing she was aware of.

The pulse of her furiously beating heart.

---

The room was as quiet as it had been the moment before Rogue had stepped into it, but the fear had more than doubled.

They were dealing with something much bigger, much more frightening than anything they had dealt with before.

They were dealing with Rogue now.

Jean rubbed at her temples, eyes closed as she attempted to breathe, knowing that if anyone was supposed to speak, it would have to be here.

Unfortunately, Jubilee beat her to it.

"Okay, so hands raised to anyone who just had the crap scared outta them."

Her eyes shot open and she gave Jubilee a disapproving look, raising her head to squelch any comments on Jubilee's remark. Her eyes drifted to Charles, but he didn't say a word, lips pursed together, and although it was almost impossible to perceive, she felt the uneasiness coming off of him in waves.

She took in a shaky breath, and glanced at Scott. God, those visors hid so much.

"It's obvious," she began, "Rogue's not going to be of much help when it comes to locating Storm."

"Uh..." Bobby raised his hand slightly, and when Jean acknowledged him with a nod, he spoke. "I think... we have to worry about Rogue a little bit more than we do about Storm."

Remy's head jerked, his eyes narrowing, and he answered in a short burst, "So you think we just forget about her? Leave her!"

"Gambit," Kitty interrupted, hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him down. "That's not what he meant."

"Rogue has her problems, that's true, but the fact is she's with us, right now," Cyclops said, his voice firm. "We can take of her, like we have before. But Storm is still in the hands of Augustus, and we have no idea what he's capable of."

"Oh I think we got a glimpse," muttered Jubilee.

"Jubes!" Kitty sounded exasperated, and when Jean narrowed her eyes yet again, Jubilee continued her voice softer now, void of it's usual sarcasm.

"Look," she began, removing her sunglasses and setting them gently on the table. "I know no one here wants to talk about it, but we have to. Rogue talked about KILLING Storm. She's never gone this far before. What if... she goes too far."

"She won't," Remy replied shortly.

"BUT WHAT IF she DOES?" Jubilee said emphatically. "I'm not saying I don't care about her, okay? Because I do. But Rogue is a damned dangerous chick here. And she knows an awful lot about us and if this... GUY takes over... we are so screwed."

"So what are you saying," Bobby said, his eyes dark with anger. "That was just.. KILL HER?"

"People," Scott began, but Jean only put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from rising, shaking her head slightly when he looked at her. They needed to vent, this was the best way.

"No, not kill her, but try to contain her. She's battling this guy in her head and-"

"And what about Storm?"

St. John raised a hand, "I'm with Jubes here. We lost Storm trying to get Rogue. We have no idea what we're up against. And we can't afford to wait much longer out sidethis ice castle when we don't even know if-"

"Don't say it," Remy said, hand shooting out to grab St. John by the collar. "She ain't dead."

"REMY!" Jean's voice was angered, and in her face, it was clear she had lost her patience. "This is NOT the time to-"

A groan at her right made her lose her train of thought, as suddenly Charles groaned, head between his hands, and her eyes widened and she cried out, mind only barely succeeding in keeping him in his chair before he fainted.

---

He sat with his back to the wall of the shelter that had been erected for him, fingers running tenderly through her bangs, pausing once to watch the shadows dance off the streak of white that ran through the few at the top.

Her figure didn't move, eyes were half closed as she lay with her head in his lap, hands huddled close to her chest, knees pulled up against her. She was no longer trembling, and for the first time, in what seemed hours, she seemed at peace.

His heartbeat was dull, and the aching fear that had paralyzed him before no longer seemed to matter, as he kept his eyes open, on her, concentrating on her skin, the softness that he had felt against his ever healing hands.

Fingers swept over her bare arm, over her shoulder, the night slip she had put on exposing so much that he had never seen.

Rogue... Marie... was a woman, a true woman, and she was beautiful.

His throat clogged slightly and he forced himself to swallow the lump of emotion down.

She was also in immense pain.

"Logan?"

"Yeah, Marie."

Her eyes were open, her orbs dark, more brown than violet, her head shifted a bit and he felt his groin tighten in response. He ground his teeth, ignoring it, instead, lifting her up and pulling her more firmly against his chest.

"I scared them, didn't I? In there."

"A little bit."

Her sigh was audible, the smell of her hair against his nost as she burrowed further into his embrace, looking more like herself than he had seen since he had taken her from the house of hell.

"I didn't want to scare them... mostly. But... "

His hand slipped to her hair, smoothing down her long waves as his other arm slipped about her waist, feeling the satin covered curve, fingers caressing there idly.

"You're gonna be okay, Marie."

She shrugged slightly, her eyes tinged with moisture. "Ah'm not sure about that. The game's lost, Logan."

His grip on her tightened, jerking her up, making her catch her breath.

"NO," he said hoarsely. "NO, it's NOT, Marie. It's -"

Her eyes watered, and on her face slipped an incredibly warm smile. Her hand rose, and suddenly her fingertips were on his face, tracing the whiskers, ending their journey on his mouth, her body warm and supple against him.

His heart was beating furiously, his body aching, responding to Marie's touch, to Rogue's body as she gently straddled him, her strength keeping him down, a gentle, loving caress against his lips as she shook her head slightly.

"You don't understand."

"You gotta fight."

And again he was rewarded with a smile, as if he was a child, and he felt the beast in him growl as she leaned forward, pressing herself against his hard body, lips touching his eyelids in a feather light caress that sent jolts through his body.

"I'm working on it," she whispered, and her body shifted again, and he groaned, loudly this time, hands sliding around her waist, holding her down, harder, against his arousal.

Oh, God... not now.. he couldn't...

"Marie," he gasped heavily, his eyes suddenly riveted on the mounds of her breasts pressed against the black leather of his uniform. God. "We can't."

A heated mouth pressed warm suckles just under his ear, cutting him off as his head fell back. She kissed and sucked, hot, moist swipes of her tongue, followed by nips from her teeth in just the right places.

"We have to," she whispered, and her hips moved and he thrust involuntarily, eyes wide open as she gave a ragged sigh of pleasure before moving her mouth to his ear again. "I need my heart, Logan. Give it to me, please."

Her hand gently slid down to his leather collar, fingers grabbing hold of the zipper she found there, and pulling down.

His mouth rested on hers, and immediately it opened, tongue mating with hers in a heated frenzy, hands bringing her close, as she released him, breathing in, a smile sliding onto her once tormented face.

"I love you, Logan," she whispered, hands sliding beween their bodies, finding the spot there that made him swallow, clench his teeth, buck his hips.

The words washed over him, and he pulled her back, push himself over her, and let her slide the zipper the rest of the way, too.

His voice was hoarse, and the blood in his veins rushed through his ears, but his beating heart told her all that she needed to know.

"I love you, Marie."

---

CHAPTER FOUR
Scott rested, his back against the wall, once again that his visor, his "gift" was both a blessing and a curse.

From his still position, no one would be able to see his tension, but he could watch, unobserved, the faces of every one of his teammates.

Jubilee had picked up his trait well, for she stood in very much the same fashion, the sunglasses that she didn't need on her nose, face closed, watching as Kitty and Iceman and St. John stood nervously, as Gambit swallowed hard, face haunted as he kept his eyes riveted toward the door.

The team was falling apart.

Scott felt the lump in his stomach, hard, making him nauseous, forcing away the emotion to another time where he could hold Jean in his arms and pretend none of this ever existed. That Rogue wasn't losing her mind and Storm wasn't in the hands of a mad man and his surrogate father hadn't just collapsed in front of the entire team.

His breathing hitched slightly, and he forced himself to steady it.

It was time to be the leader he always fancied himself he was.

"I know.. things seem pretty bad right now, but we've been some bad situations before," he began slowly, thickly, "And we will get out of it, everyone, together. I'm not sure how, and I'm not sure when, but failure... that's never been an option for us. Not for our family."

It was low, quiet, but full of sincere emotion, and he felt his heart lift slightly when Kitty offered him a soft smile, when he saw Bobby nod almost unconsciously and when St. John let a deep breath out.

At least a few still believed.

The door opened, and eyes slid off of him and onto his wife, who gently closed the latch behind her before turning slowly regarding them all.

"He's sleeping," she finally began, in a low, controlled, "Dr. Jean" voice.

"What's going on with him?" Jubliee's question was flat, her posture never moved, and Jean took a breath, reaching out and squeezing Scott's hand for support as he looked on, his chest tight with emotion.

Her arms crossed tightly across her chest, and after a moment where she seemed to be framing her words, she began.

"What I'm about to say cannot leave this room. Professor Xavier does not want anyone to know, until he is ready to tell them, but considering the circumstances, I believe it's best everyone here is made aware of what is coming."

Jubilee pulled her glasses down slightly, Kitty's jaw ticked, the young men only continued to look. She didn't dare to see the look on Scott or Remy's faces.

The wound that still hadn't healed completely ached, and she reached out with her mind toward a chair, pulling it toward her, sinking into it as she rubbed at her head.

"Professor Xavier has cancer, in his head," she began in the most methodical tone she could muster. She didn't look up as she continued to speak. "He's had it for the past... few years, but we never... the tumors... we didn't think it was serious enough to alarm anyone... until now."

Jubilee gasped, Kitty's hands covered her mouth, eyes wide with shock. Scott tensed directly behind her, and she felt the moisture cloud her eyes.

"He's gonna be okay though, right?" Bobby asked, eyes dark and hopeful. "it's not that..."

"It's quite acute. I'm sure many of you have noticed that he has been grooming me in my powers, trying to build them up. This is because... we're not sure how much longer he will be with us."

"Oh, God."

"You're telling us dis now?" Remy asked, eyes narrowed angrily. "NOW?"

"We didn't want to alarm you, and we weren't sure at first. Now it's beginning to take it's toll... it could be because of his powers, because of the magnitude of them, or because he's one of the older mutants... or it could be... just pure chance... but it is happening, and..." her voice wavered slightly and she took a breath, blinking twice to calm herself. "And as of this moment, you should consider me... his voice."

"Jean... I don't... " Scott's words were edged in hoarse, raspy syllables, she felt the pain coursing through him, and more than anything she wished she could turn and hold him like a wife was supposed to. Instead she turned, staring at him with tired eyes and a short shake of her head.

"That's how he wants it."

Feet shifted, and from the corner of her eye, she could see a lone tear slip from Jubilee's face, making it's way clear from under her glasses.

"That's such bull shit," she whispered, vaulting away from the doorway. "We don't need this shit now! I mean what the hell else can go wrong? When did this fucking all go to shit?"

"JUBILEE." Jubilation froze, turning at the hardness in Jean's tone.

The telepath was standing straight and tall, and she teemed with authority as she snapped, "We can deal with this LATER. Right now, we have to find a way to get into that ice box, and get to Storm, and we need to figure out how to guard ourselves from Augustus and how to save Rogue before he does a mindjob on her. And we WILL save her, if I have to go in her head and fight him off myself." She swallowed, her eyes narrowed. "Now, get to your posts, and keep your mouth shut about this. All of you."

Jubilee took a breath, but nodded, motioning to Kitty, and both women disappeared to take over the watch duty.

Bobby and St. John filed out after them, and a short second, Remy hesitantly followed them.

She could feel Scott's gaze on her back, but she only shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Scott," she whispered, her back to her lover, her husband, her best friend. "I wish we could talk about this. But we've got a long night... and we can't think about this now."

She paused, waited until the hoarse, "I know" came from her husband's lips, and she never turned, knowing if she did, her heart and resolve and strength would crumble in her desire to cry out her frustrations in her husband's arms.

Instead she gave him a short nod, and walked away, hastily wiping away a tear from her exhausted face.

She had to find a way to get past her fear, to be willing to play Rogue's game, get into the darkness without it overtaking her.

It was going to be a long night.

---

Every sense and feeling overwhelmed him, and he almost choked in an attempt to keep it contained.

The brush of her skin against his, the moans and whispers that were barely audible, the sweat and moisture that slicked across his fingers as his hands roamed off her shoulder, lower, gently cupping one soft breast, mouth buried in her shoulder, inhaling her scent.

Her legs kept him firmly settled between her thighs, her strength a welcome factor in keeping them as they rocked, the pace growing frenzied.

Hands with short fingernails buried themselves into his shoulders, raking down over the contracting muscles of his back, sliding up to bury themselves in the damp hair that was now plastered with sweat against his head.

His mouth continued to move, worshipping the young body he would have given anything to save, heart and mind full as his hands moved to either side of her, holding himself above her as he moved, looking down upon her face as her calves slid up his own, marking him, body writhing beneath him as he fought to breathe, fought to control the torrent of emotion running rampant through him.

Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was open, as she gasped for breath, fingers now moving against the hair on his chest, sliding up to rub against his pectorals in an unconscious effort to be closer to him.

Her body arched under his, hips rocking harder, and he groaned as her hands moved against his skin, up his throat to cup his chin, pulling down so that his mouth covered hers again, tongues moving in hot, moist complete abandon.

His hips moved back and with a grunt he slid forward again, and the kiss broke up as the body underneath him arched, writhed, and Marie threw her head back and gasped, a squeak coming from the back of her throat, her face full of so many emotions as the ride overtook her, her climax taking hold, and she tightened around him, and suddenly his eyes closed and he growled, louder, harder.

And the world exploded before his very eyes, and his heart burst and he spasmed against her, and suddenly he fell forward, body spent tired, found a willing pillow awaiting him against her soft breasts, her body gasping under his weight, but never allowing him to move as her hands gently wiped the sweaty bangs from his face.

There was nothing he could do for a full minute but breathe, try fiercely to get his mind under control, feeling her silent caresses against the crown of his head, felt the soft brush of her lips against his forehead, her breathing as loud as his, her chest heaving from exertion.

But the peace was there, settled in his heart, the love threatened to overwhelm as he felt the palm on his face as he leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against her caress before nudging at the swells that cushioned him, gathering his strength and rolling to the side, taking her with him, until she was lying against him. And he held her still, eyes closed, smelling her scent mingled with his, the smell of sex that was so much more...

Large fingers slid through the silken strands that seemed to float against his chest, and with the free hand he cupped her chin and took her mouth with his, eyes open to see her fluttering lashes against his cheeks, the trail of dried tears against her own.

When she pulled back to smile gently at him, her eyes were a soft, dark brown.

And he smiled, and pulled her closer, watching as she battled the sleep, whispering words of love he never thought he'd say, never letting her go, realizing he had just accomplished the impossible.

He had made love to Marie.

And it was going to be all right. It was all going to be all right now.

---

Fingers gently caressed the fur of the ball of warmth that rested on his knee, as the man shuddered slightly, wincing as he heard the purring that came from the cat, felt the vibration beneath his fingers, soothing him, warming him.

At this moment, it was the only comfort he had.

His eyes closed, his heart beat, and he let out a soft breath, feeling her drifting around in his thoughts, in his body, in his mind.

It wasn't enough. Not anymore.

He had never placed much stock in the tangible, but as she whispered in his mind, smiled in his eyes and laughed in his years, he wanted nothing more than to take her completely, body and soul.

Destiny was a tricky thing, this he knew well. Perhaps his destiny was not what he had supposed, perhaps instead of destroying the body in an effort to keep the mind, he would keep the body and the mind... use it... use her...

There was a reason she was created in the form of a women, a reason he was created in the form of a man, a reason that the attraction ran so rampant and a reason he was feeling entirely conflicted about a game that should have been over.

The reason was an emotion he didn't dare want to comment on, and it relied on so much, on a women who did not yet know herself, on an entity that had yet to manifest itself, and on him... putting a life above his own selfish needs, his own destiny, something he had never done before.

Then again... he had never had reason to.

In his heart, in his mind, he called to the body, muttering wordless incantations under his breath, pulling her, relating to her in spirit and thought his carefully thought out plan.

The Rogue in his head that had battled him so completely instead smiled, laughed, and when his eyes opened he saw an image in his dreams that set his heart pounding and his blood coursing in white hot rage.

The cat fell from his lap as he continued to look, watch, as the man known as Wolverine invaded the body of the mind he so desperately wanted to posses, the body that was by rights and markers HIS, his to control and possess and adore.

And the violet eyes flashed, and Augustus roared.

---

Her body jolted, and she sat up, breath coming in and out of her mouth in huge gasps, her chest constricting for breath as she held a hand to her breast, her eyes wide open, and yet completely unseeing.

Instead her eyes saw the invasion of her mind, the rush of memories and future visions that flooded her, rendered her completely paralyzed and never once was she able to look at the man lying beside her, lost in a dreamless sleep as his free hand tangled in hers.

Her mouth formed a soundless groan as the violet eyes haunted her, branded her, marked her, the furious rage and emotion at Marie sliding through her, and she heard the roar of anger from the being that possessed her other half, felt it inside of her, the piece of Augustus she had taken now furious, jolting through her.

She saw the X-Men, littered on a field of snow, she saw Logan, bloodied and beaten... she saw the eyes and the smile and her body quaked as she continued to gasp, to feel the constriction and GOD it felt like she was dying and she was because it was so clear...

Augustus had lost patience.

And her knees slid up to her chest and she cried, fingers desperately combing through her bangs, biting down on her lip to keep from waking the man next to her and the game continued to play and in that moment she knew the game was inevitable, for in the last move she saw the choice she knew she would have to make, saw the conclusion to the game she had been fighting, the game that had already been lost :

Storm dangled helplessly from the hold of the man to whom she was bound by fate, and when she shuddered, she knew Ororo's fate, and she knew her own.

Her eyes closed and she shuddered and her body jolted, and suddenly it was over, it was all over.

And when her eyes opened slowly, they were a pristine shade of violet.

She slipped out of the bed where the naked man slept and picked up the black spandex that had been littered on the floor.

It was time to go home.

---

Neither Kitty nor Jubilee said one word to each other as they stood, eyes drifting over the darkness, the white snow glowing in the moonlight, beyond them the ice box, barely visible.

Jubilee's throat ached from keeping the emotion hidden, and she suspected that her much more open friend needed only the slightest encouragement before she would burst into tears.

So she said nothing.

Shadowcat, no longer a child, did not burst into tears, however. Her voice was low, even, as she turned to her younger compatriot, and asked frankly, "Are you scared?"

"Out of my fucking mind."

Silence followed that statement, and Kitty nodded shortly. "Seems like everyone's out of their mind around here."

Jubilation crossed her arms, keeping her eyes on the darkness that surrounded them, letting her eyes flicker back to the sleeping camp once before replying, "How fucking ironic is it that I'm the voice of reason here?"

That earned her a small smile from her friend, one that never fully emerged because Kitty's eyes now caught the figure that was walking slowly up to them. Her breath hitched and her hand squeezed Jubilee's elbow.

"Is that..."

Jubilee jumped slightly when the figure in black spandex suddenly flew forward, landing ten feet away.

"Rogue."

"Jubes," she responded, walking toward them slowly. "You guys really don't get it do you?"

Jubilee heard Kitty take in a deep breath, saw her back up slightly, fists clenched. "Rogue you're supposed to be back in camp. It's the only place you're safe."

The comment made Rogue's steps falter, and suddenly a smile slid onto her lips, and she laughed, shoulders shaking with mirth as she stopped, regarding them. "You think any of you are safe in there? From him? From me?" Her eyes flickered to Jubilee. "The glasses, Jubilee, take them off. I want to see your face."

Jubilee ignored the suggested, keeping her fingers out, her body trembling against her will.

"You never trusted me, did you Jubes? No matter what I did you always were scared of me."

Kitty was breathing hard, eyes glinting as she watched Rogue, shaking her head slightly. "Rogue... come on girl, we know you're still in there."

A short chuckle burst from their friend's lips. "Kay, how cliché is that? 'We know you're still in there'. Yes, Kitty. I'm here, somewhere. But I have to go, so if you could kindly step aside."

Kitty shot Jubilee a look and Jubilee shook her head, swallowing hard. "Rogue, we can't let you go, okay? Come on, let's get you back to camp."

"No.. I don't want to go back to camp. The camp is boring. I have to go home. Let me go. It's a simple statement. Understand it."

"We're not letting you go, Rogue, so just shut up and get back or we'll have to take you back." Her fingers lifted and despite the shakiness that was visible in them, their intention was clear.

Rogue's violet eyes slid to the pointed fingers, and she nodded slightly, rising slightly, floating a few feet above the ground.

"You know what your problem is Jubes? You're all spit and no fire. Kinda forgot something didn't you? I've got him in my head... I've his secrets and I've got yours." As her mouth closed, the winds above them began to swirl, lifting their hair, sliding through their bangs, and Rogue landed on the ground, coming forward, "Go for it, Kitty. I'll give you the first shot."

Kitty's heart was in her throat as she watched one of her best friend's staring at her with eyes of a stranger, challenging her to a level of violence that she had never felt comfortable with, and never wanted to attempt with this particular mutant.

Rogue had killed before, she hadn't.

Rogue's powers were to destroy, Kitty's were for stealth, and although she had learned long ago to fight with the best of the X-Men, Rogue's strength and memories of the previous warriors in her head far outweighed any experience she might have had in her favor.

But Rogue still waited for Kitty to gather her strength, to gather her gumption to use her powers against one of her closest confidants.

Kitty swallowed hard once again, took a deep breath, never daring to take her eyes off of Rogue.

Remy's voice broke through the winds, Jubilee cried out to him, sparks flew and cards exploded and that second, Rogue had waited long enough.

Her feet left the ground and before she could quite place her former friend, Kitty was flung onto her back, mouth stinging, coughing blood, head aching and shoulder searing in pain.

Her eyes fluttered with flashes of pain, but she still saw through the murky haziness, Rogue diving into Jubilee, Jubilee crying out in pain, Rogue's arm reaching back and coming down again.

Kitty groaned, pushed herself up on one elbow, but suddenly Rogue was back, straddling her, and the violet eyes bore into hers as she whispered.

"Times up. Game's lost, Kitty."

Above her, Rogue put her gloved hands to her teeth, and biting down, pulled off the covering, removing one deadly bare hand. Kitty's eyes widened and she struggled, but Rogue's knees had her elbows pinned and she was helpless when she touched her face.

Oh, GOD. She was falling, slipping, and the most intense pain she had ever experienced jerked through her and her body froze, she screamed and fell back, when the contact was lost.

It had to have been only a half second... but it felt like years.

Her mind reeled and when Rogue's hand descended again, her eyes fluttered and she thought Rogue's eyes might have been brown-

In the second fatal caress she felt it all come back.

"Pretty damn cool, huh?" Rogue whispered, and Kitty felt herself blink up in surprise.

The pressure of the body on top of her was gone and she gasped, fingers on her face, as Jubilee fell in the snow beside her.

"Kitty!" Gloved, masculine hands lifted her up, cradled her slightly, and her eyes opened groggily to perceive Gambit's dark red orbs staring down at her.

Oh, God. She wasn't dead. She was barely even in pain. With a groan, she nodded, sitting up, shaking her head, and motioning to the sky. "Go after her. I'll take care of Jubes."

He hesitated once, but nodded, stumbling to his feet and racing in the direction Rogue had disappeared.

Oh, God. She took in several deep gasps, wiping the blood away from her face, smearing it across her cheek as she turned to Jubilee. The mutant had a bleeding nose, and broken glasses were dangling from the crook of her ear.

"Jubes!"

Her Asian-American friend groaned, reaching up to touch her nose tenderly.

She sat up slowly, hands on her ribs, holding them tightly, and the blood stained glasses fell onto the crisp white snow.

All Kitty heard was a whisper.

"We are SO screwed."

---

The darkness was inside her, and her chest was tight, so tight. She fought for to breathe, battled for the right to take in even the most minute amount of air.

Charles' kind eyes looked down upon her, and Jean felt helpless, bound with her own fear of the darkness, of her own inadequacy and the terror of the unknown.

Rogue smirked at her, and behind her, in the dark depths of her eyes, she saw the murky figure of a man with the purple eyes, who called her Predator and a coward.

"GOD!"

She came to with a sucking in of her breath, chest heaving with panic, and when the hand squeezed her shoulder unexpectedly she shrieked, lashing out with her mind.

"JEAN!"

Scott scrambled from the other side of the makeshift bed, dashing past her. The familiar voice brought back reality, and thankful for it, Jean blinked, the fear leaving her body only to be replaced by dread when she realized who it was she had tossed to the other side of the room.

Scott was kneeling next to a very injured Kitty.

"Oh, God, Kitty," she threw off the covers and ran to her side, falling onto her knees to inspect the damage. "What happened?"

"You kinda threw her across the room," Jubilee said, standing in the doorway of the large tent. "And um... Rogue kinda beat us up and left."

"What?!" Scott shot Jean a quick glance, but she could only turn back to Kitty.

Kitty coughed, wiping blood from her bleeding lip before she rasped, "She's gone."

Pendulums were fairly hypnotic. They were soothing, and Storm suspected that was the very reason this one was placed in her room, with its clicking and rocking, the gold swinging back and forth, her eyes roving after it.

It was meant to soothe, to take the mind and relax it, release the anxiety.

It was meant to hypnotize, and Storm knew that Augustus' path was paved with anything but good intentions.

When the door opened and the servants, the mutants who worshipped this man and barely looked at her, brought in the trays with the food, she barely raised an eyebrow.

When he strode in after them and offered her a drink, she accepted with the grace of a Princess, knowing it would never be poisoned.

It simply wasn't his style. His game was of the mind, and although she wasn't exactly a team player, she could hold her own for a short while.

Exactly what she was waiting for, she wasn't sure. Hope maybe... she hardly expected the entire X-team to come trudging in here, guns ablazing. Indeed, she prayed they would not, because she knew more than one, a red-eyed Cajun in particular, wouldn't think twice, and that just wouldn't do.

She had no idea what on earth would happen to her mind, to her heart if she saw anything happen to him.

The fractured worry and the increased beating of her heart at the mere thought of him was disconcerting enough.

As she sipped the wine, she turned, the silken robe that had been provided quite a comfortable contrast to the chafing leather of her uniform, but she never let her guard slip as he continued to ask her questions about her well being, and when the question came, she almost smiled.

"So how long do you think we have to wait before they arrive?" The tone was friendly and conversational, accompanied with a smile and a look at his watch.

Storm finished her glass, setting it on the table, eyes never leaving his as she slowly shook her head. "I have already told you they will not come."

He was quiet for a minute. "You think so?"

"I think so. I know my leaders. They will not risk the group for the life of one."

"They did it before."

"They also learn from their mistakes."

"They're a volatile bunch."

"Only when they choose to be. Deep down they are solid."

"You have tremendous faith," he pronounced, crossing his legs and leaning back, regarding her, his body shaking slightly as his eye color flickered slightly.

She raised an eyebrow. "They will not come."

"Well one of us is here right now."

Oh, God.

Storm froze, her heart jolting, thudding against her ribcage, breath catching, and she prayed, literally, that the voice did not belong to who she thought it did.

Her eyes slowly led to the doorway, watching as Augustus froze, his head jerking back, rising out of his chair with an awkwardness that seemed uncharacteristic, his glass sloshing as he slammed it down.

"Rogue."

Rogue smiled, leaning in the doorway, eyes only for Augustus, and good GOD...

The eyes were violet.

Storm's fists rolled into balls, her figure trembling slightly as Rogue walked into the doorway, hair tumbling wild and free, blood drying on her knuckled, visible when she slid her hands through her long hair, walking to meet Augustus in the middle of the floor, a torrid smile on her face.

From her position, Storm could only watch, afraid to say a word, not sure whether to be frightened or relieved.

But Augustus only glowered.

Rogue's hand reached forward, sliding down one powerful bicep, her eyes twinkling in mirth. "What'sa matter, honey?"

There was one hard swallow from Augustus, and when he spoke, the tone was dark, hoarse, and so terribly unsure that Storm had a hard time believing it was him speaking.

"You were a very bad girl."

Rogue only smiled.

There was a long intense stare, and those damn orbs kept flickering, and Storm could only breathe.

Until Augustus smiled and Rogue smiled back.

Large hands slipped about a small waist, and she was pulled against the dark, hard body.

Rogue's mouth tilted up and Storm's stomach plummeted when Augustus reached down and their mouths met in one hot, searing kiss.

Their lips clung together, eyes closed as they held each other like lovers, and when he finally released her, Rogue just cocked an eyebrow, sliding one hand down his chest before turning to her.

"Storm."

Her breath was shaky, but she managed, "Rogue. Welcome back."

"Thank you, nice to be back. I trust Augustus has treated you well."

Rogue advanced, and despite her shaky limbs and increasing dread, Storm managed to rise to her feet and meet her.

"I have no complaints. You're looking better."

"Oh, darlin' I'm fucking awesome." Rogue's eyes bore into hers, and Storm unconsciously jumped when Rogue reached forward and took her hand, entangling their fingers, looking up to her. She pulled back, and the strength in the gesture caused Storm to stumble, falling into Rogue's arms, feeling her lips on her ears as she heard, "Ever deliberately lost control, Ororo? Feels DAMN good."

Just as forcefully, Storm was shoved back into her chair, her mind reeling and her heart plummeting as she heard Augustus' laugh, dark and crystal clear, overtaking her mind, her heart...

She was lost in her own fear, as the violet eyes of her friend looked down upon her.

There was no hope.

---

CHAPTER FIVE

He had woken up alone.

Panic had seemed a very viable option, as his eyes roamed over the room where nothing was out of place but his black uniform, thrown halfhazardly on the floor.

Rogue's night gown was neatly folded and placed on her side of the bed, the pillow looked fluffed, and her smell, mingled with the lingering smell of sex and sweat, was fading. Her black uniform, her boots, and the long black coat was gone.

He called out her name, heart suddenly pounding as he threw off the covers, pulling on his boxers, searching the tent.

"Marie."

His voice was hoarse, and in that split second, when no one answered but the winds that brought snow in through the flap at the door, he grew absolutely terrified.

"LOGAN!"

His eyes flew toward to the door and saw Remy burst in, red eyes dark, moist. Logan stood, hands clenched in fists, coming forward and grabbing Remy by the arms, eyes narrowed.

"Where is she?"

Remy was gasping, long, in indrawn breathes, and he smelled of sweat and blood. "She took off."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE TOOK OFF?!"

"She took off, Logan! She attacked Kitty and Jubilee and left. I followed her as far as the ice box but then the damn thing opened and closed up behind her. She went back to him."

Logan gasped, chest constricted as his grip tightened on Remy's shoulders. "No," he breathed, as he shook his head emphatically. "She wouldn't do that."

"She did."

"SHUT UP! She wouldn't just leave! Not after-"

"Logan." The feminine voice was quiet, but it was firm enough to squelch his protest. His panicked stance did not escape her, but Jean, her glasses glinting the dark light, barely looked at the rumpled sheets, and the half-naked man. "Get dressed and meet us in Tent C."

Remy swallowed, averted his eyes from his gasping friend, shrugging sadly. "Sorry, Logan."

He too exited the tent, leaving Logan alone, with nothing but burning eyes and a broken heart.

---

She waited for Logan, not saying a word and instructing Scott and Remy to follow her example, as they sat at the table.

Her eyes were on charts, graphs, numbers, but her mind and her heart...

Slowly, very careful not to be obvious, her eyes flickered over Jubilee and Kitty, both of whom were being tended to by Robert Drake and St. John. She let her eyes take in the scene, the four friends who were taking just enough comfort from each other not to break down, before she tore her eyes away and took in a deep breath, trying desperately to steady her trembling insides.

With a swift movement, she took off her glasses, laying them carefully to the side of her notes, and turned, voice soft and low, to Scott.

"Any suggestions?"

He gave a short chuckle, harsh and brusque, shoulders shaking slightly. From her viewpoint, the jaw and mouth seemed hard and angry, and once again Jean would have given anything to see the eyes that he had told her once were blue.

"Jean, you do not want to know what is going through my mind."

Her eyes softened slightly. "On the contrary, I do."

He shrugged. "Then look."

"I want you to tell me."

He swallowed, and suddenly the red visors were directed at her, as he turned, regarding the newly appointed leader. "I don't want to tell you, Jean. Not right now. I'm sorry."

That stung. It really stung. She felt the moisture cloud her eyes and she leaned back, blindly reaching for her glasses and putting them back on, posture once more erect as the flap was lifted open and Logan walked in, eyes bloodshot and wild, coming to stand next to Remy Lebeau.

She waited a beat, as the whispering stopped and all eyes focused on hers, before clearing her throat, no emotion in her voice as she began to speak. "All right, we have a problem." Jubilee snorted slightly, but one look from Jean silenced her. "Just to get everybody up to date, at approximately, 2:30 this morning, Rogue left us, and left two very damaged X-Men in her wake."

"Damaged, but not killed," Bobby replied, his voice hoarse and tense. "That's a good sign right?"

"Uh... excuse me? Voice of reason here!" Jubilee looked understandably pissed as she rose to her feet, eyes naked to them, the moisture in them a testament to the emotion in her voice. "I love Rogue, okay? But do you guys need like, a neon sign? She has lost it. It is a dangerous situation."

"But-"

"No, buts, Bobby. She could have killed us."

"Jubilee's right." Remy sucked in his breath, his eyes narrowed, ignoring the tense Logan beside him as he strode to the table.

"Don't even say it, Cyclops."

"HEY." Scott's voice was hard, and it ran with authority as he launched to his feet, lenses directly on the Cajun thief. "Don't you start, Remy. I trusted her with my life. But we have to face facts okay? She has gone, she left us, she verbally threatened Storm, who might I add is still missing, AND she has taken two members of the team. Do NOT say this is unwarranted."

"She's still in there."

Logan's voice was low, but full of determination, and it made the group pause, look at him. His form was tight, his stance defensive, but his eyes were strangely hollow as he looked at no one and every one.

"How do you know that?" Jean answered.

"I spent more time with here than anyone here, didn't I?" he snapped angrily. "I know. She's... she's in there."

"Logan." Kitty's tone was gentle, but her eyes were firm as she looked at him. "We can't... I want to trust you and take your word on it... but the life of Storm, our lives... she touched me, and I don't know how I didn't die. I'd like so much to believe you-"

"Believe it."

"We need proof Logan!" she demanded. "This is too dangerous to take your word."

"I just know, Dammit. Marie's still in that body and as long as there's something to save I'm not letting anyone get near her." The angry tone was accompanied with a growl, making it a very real threat.

From the corner of her eye, Jean could Remy nod slightly. "Maybe she go save Storm, eh?"

"That is taking SO much on faith," St. John snapped. "Look the time comes when we have to cut our losses, no matter how much it hurts and try to take her out."

Logan growled, and lunged forward. St. John stumbled back, hands ready, but Remy caught Logan, holding him back.

"Guys. Enough." Jean interrupted, one slender hand coming up to shut everyone up. Her eyes remained on Logan, and with a quiet nod, she went around Scott, arms crossed, facing him. He gazed at her, but her eyes never met his, mouth set in a grim line as she leaned forward, whispered gently in his ear. "Logan, I'm going to ask you a question. Do not nod, do not give any indication of an answer. Just think it for me. Did you sleep with Rogue?" No one else heard the question, but all eyes were on her, watching curiously.

His body tensed, she could hear the indrawn hiss, and her mind immediately locked onto his answer.

She nodded shortly, leaning away from him, turning to the group. "As of this moment, we do not consider Rogue as an ally, but as a threat that we avoid at all costs. Right now our main concern is Storm, then we try to salvage Rogue-"

"Jean-"

"THEN we try to save Rogue," she repeated firmly, her gaze pinning Logan.

His eyes flashed, but he said nothing.

When she felt he had conceded, she turned back to the group. "I want a layout of the mansion of what you two remember, Remy and Logan. The rest of you, brief the others on what just happened, and make sure everything is in working order. Scott... take over. I'm going to check on the Professor."

With a headache pounding away at her brain, and the nausea at the helplessness of the situation spreading through her abdomen, Jean walked away from her team.

---

It was quite amusing, when one stopped to think about the situation he had gotten himself into. If he really thought about it, he would have to say that things had gotten quite domestic.

His eyes flickered above the book he was reading to the other side of the room, where Rogue was sitting on the carpet, petting the cat with one hand, the other raised high in the air, commanding her attention.

He found himself smiling, closing the book and cocking his head, watching as her fingers danced in the flicker of the fireplace, as her eyes shone.

His lover. Not in perhaps the physical sense, she had not yet allowed that, and he humored her. She had her reasons, they were still dealing with the very powerful bond that was still changing both their bodies, and thankfully, some of the physical trauma had eased when he had the body returned to him.

Her eyes had returned to a gorgeous soft brown as he allowed her to carry the burden of her mind for him, but she seemed infatuated with the gifts his interaction had brought, and he found it an interesting learning experience as she combined their gifts.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, putting the book to the side.

She smiled, her eyes turning and regarding him, and she stood, barefooted, walking toward him before kneeling down in front of him, palms spread out on his knees. "You changed me." Her hands slid up his thighs, her eyes rested on the contact. "I can... do things."

His eyes twinkled merrily. "Am I seeing Rogue?"

"I never understood that." She was quiet for a minute, rising up on her knees to rest her elbows on his thighs, her face lost in thought. "It's like... everything before doesn't matter anymore... because of who I am... "

"I think it still matters. Your past will always haunt you, Rogue, unless you destroy it."

She cocked an eyebrow, a smirk coming to her lips. "Like you did yours, sugar?"

"I merely did what was necessary for the future." His fingers slid through her hair, caressing the spot just under her jaw. "Which is exactly what you should be doing."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"

His hands drifted to her shoulders, pulling her up with strength that he inherited from her, until she was straddling his waist. "What I mean," he began, violet eyes drifting, "is that as long as your past, as long as MARIE exists, you will never face your future."

Her smile faltered, but she stayed put. Her eyes hardened, glinted and turned a soft purple. "Ah like my past right where it is. In the past."

He pursed his lips, and leaned forward, brushing her lips with his. Her mouth opened to him, and her tongue slid across his teeth, sucking slightly, pulling his own back with her. He moaned, eyes snapping open at the very real loss of control, felt himself slipping when she opened her channel.

His heart jolted, he felt the weakness, the pain, but with a few muttered words, suddenly she was pouring into him.

She pulled away then, raising an eyebrow, lifting a hand to his cheek, and with one caress, took it all back.

"That is the COOLEST thing," she whispered. "Show me more."

He grinned, felt her heartbeat thump against his chest, and he gathered her face in his hands, and sealed his fate.

"I love you."

She smiled, leaned forward, pressed her lips against his, her hips pressed against his own, and his mind was filled with her, as his hands roamed and his eyes closed and her lips met his hungrily.

And never once, did he recall that she had never answered his questions, nor had she ever said she loved him back.

---

When she closed the door behind her, his eyes opened.

Jean smiled tightly, coming forward and settling down next to the bed where Charles was seated.

"Hey."

"Jean." His hand reached out and she clasped the soft, worn digits in her own, pressing her face against them, her chest constricting as she swallowed. She felt the pressure of his hand on her hair.

"Oh, God, Charles." Her eyes closed, her shoulders trembling as she leaned over him. He held her as well as he could, not saying a word, and she sobbed silently, knowing he knew it all already.

"Jean... shh.. It's all right."

"It's NOT all right!" she burst, lifting her face, eyes streaked with tears. "We're falling apart out there."

"You're doing just fine."

"I lost Rogue. And I lost Storm. My best friend."

"Rogue lost herself."

She swallowed, looking away. "I wish I could believe that."

"Jean, listen to me." His voice was kind, firm, and it was exactly what she needed as she straightened, looking into the clear blue eyes tinged slightly with pain. "You are not the problem. Everyone has their own mind. All we can do is steer it."

She swallowed. "How can I lead when I am so full of ... doubt and fear myself?"

Charles could only offer a soft smile. "Everyone must deal with their demons, Jean. You must accept yours. You are not perfect."

"Believe me professor, no one knows that more than I do."

"You and Scott have always had this mentality that everything you did or said had to be 'right'. You never quite realized that there is no right or wrong. There are actions, and consequences. Rogue has chosen her path."

"But-"

"Jean." He wheezed slightly, closing eyes, his features contorting in pain, and her hand reached for his, squeezing.

"Do you want me to get you some medicine?" she asked, wiping the tears away as she looked him over, instinct taking over emotion.

"No. I need to you listen to me. Jean... Eric and I were the best of friends. I knew everything about him, but he chose his path." Jean swallowed, keeping her eyes trained on him. "I lost the best, closest and more dear person in my life, to a path that he chose. But it was his to choose, and he accepted the consequences, just as I had to accept that his path would harm, and MY path was to stop him."

She took in a breath, shaking unsteadily, and he continued, his eyes trained on hers.

"Jean. I had to learn to let him go."

Her eyes closed and one tear drifted down her soft cheek.

---

She was through waiting.

Storm knew that an attempt to escape would more than likely get her killed, but the very shocking turn of events had led her to take the chance.

She was hovering behind the door, the heavy marble statue in her hand when the door opened.

She waited until she saw the back of the head of her former friend, and with a yell, brought it down.

Rogue moved a split second before it made contact, the statue catching her in the arm, shattering against her.

"SHIT! OWW!" Rogue spit, her eyes flickering from brown to violet as she kicked the door closed. "SHIT 'RO! What the FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!"

Storm watched, drifting down into fight position, watching with growing uncertainty as Rogue cursed under her breath, grabbing some of the melted ice in the bucket of forgotten wine and placing it on her arm. "Auggie is going to get so pissed. He liked that statue."

Ororo's eyes narrowed. "Rogue?"

"What? Geez." Rogue grabbed a towel, wrapping it against her arm as she glared at her. "What the hell was that? When did you go all commando?" Storm's gaze was leveled on her, and she resumed her fight position, causing Rogue to roll her eyes. "Oh will you stop that? Ah'm not here to kill you. Though you know if we were at home, I really would kick your ass."

Storm's position wavered slightly, her milky white eyes resuming her normal color as she straightened up. She licked her lips, feeling her heart skip a beat. "Rogue?"

"Yes. It is me. Hello. Augustus is asleep. I took the opportunity to pay a visit. Locked him away into his own dreams for a while."

Storm wasn't quite sure how to answer that.

"I'm here to get you out of here, preferably without you dying."

Storm swallowed as Rogue opened the door, tossing Storm her black leather uniform. "Put it on, it's frigid out."

"I ... I'm not sure I understand."

"There's not much to understand. Augustus wants to kill you. I want nothing more to do with you. My past is dead, but Marie..." she shrugged, rolling her eyes. "You have to warn the others. She's dying, little by little... every hour... and when she's dead... there's nothing stopping me from winning the game."

"The game?"

"The Game, Storm!" Rogue slid on the long black trenchcoat, eyes shifting color yet again as she looked at her in exasperation. "You know about the game. It's lost." her steps faltered slightly, and her mouth pursed as she gazed at Ororo. "Look. I care about you. This heart... cares about you. But I am bound to that man, and my heart has no room in his life. He will destroy it at the first crack."

"Would you let him?"

Rogue didn't answer, instead looking outside of the door. "Just get out of here. Warn the others. When it's complete, my past will be obliterated. Ah think you qualify as being a part of it."

The hardness in Rogue's voice struck a chill in Storm's body, and she took in a breath, eyes narrowing. "I am afraid I do not trust you."

Rogue practically growled as she whirled, marching up to her taller friend and pushing her back against the wall. Her eyes bore into hers as she spoke heatedly. "I don't care. You either take a chance and come with me, or you die here, and trust me, that is NOT something you want."

Storm's body heaved against her, her body tight with fear and uncertainty, but she managed one sentence. "Would you destroy Logan?"

The eyes shifted and there was a wince, and Rogue stumbled back, holding a hand to her head, and with eyes flashing, she turned, backhanding Storm across the face.

"NEVER say his name around here again." Storm held a hand to her face, the spot where Rogue had struck her stung, and Rogue swallowed, leaning forward, and pressing her lips gently against the skin. "Ah'm sorry," she whispered.

And the tone was so small and young and full of hurt it Storm could only swallow.

"Let's get out of here." Storm weighed her options, and finally just took a breath, getting to her feet.

"Fine."

Rogue paused in the doorway, looking back at her former best friend. "Storm?"

"Yes?"

"This isn't going to be pretty. You're REALLY going to have to trust me."

---

His chest actually hurt. It had stayed constricted, causing him to gasp for breath. The red-eyed Cajun could only stand, his hands clenched into fists and his mind whirling and it kept coming back to two women.

There was a lump in the back of his throat and an anger, a seething anger at his helplessness because now that he was part of the damn team he had to let his decisions be made for him...

He couldn't stand that... not when he was doing nothing but sitting here and Storm was in trouble and any moment Rogue could lose her mind.

Not when he had just...

Oh God... he had never even told her...

He walked back slowly, leaning against the wall while the others discussed under the leadership of Scott, eyes glowing with anger and helpless frustration until the movements of Wolverine caught his eye.

Logan was pacing, when he suddenly stopped, and Remy watched curiously as he moved slowly toward the door, taking care that no one saw him slip out.

Seconds before he disappeared, he caught Remy's eye, and when Remy cocked an eyebrow, he only shrugged.

Immediately Remy followed him.

The trenchcoat was pulled on as he jogged, catching up to him as Wolverine trudged through the snow, leaving crisp, marked footprints in his wake.

"What's the plan?"

"Don't have one, " answered Wolverine, breath coming out in misty clouds in the frigid air.

"My kinda plan."

They walked, side by side, and when Wolverine began to run, his face determined, angry and completely determined, Remy knew the expression mirrored his own.

"We get to that damn icebox, find a way in, and get them the hell out," Logan finally answered. "that's the plan."

"Good one."

Logan gave him a look, but Remy never looked at him. Instead he readjusted the trenchcoat, and fingered the cards in his pocket.

They walked in silence following the path that Remy had taken when he followed Rogue before.

His heart beat soundly, but his mind was clear, void of anything else other than finding his women.

His Storm.

He was going to save Storm and help Logan save Rogue, because those two women meant the world to him, and if he had to die doing it...

He'd rather do that than have to wait for the beaurucratic bullshit that was happening back at the camp.

---

A good three miles and half a hour later, the Ice Box came into sight.

Logan immediately slowed, and Remy followed his lead, hands reaching into his pockets.

The attacks came almost immediately.

Out from the right a mutant jumped from the trees.

Logan grabbed him and slammed him to the ground.

Remy was plowed into by a snake like being that spewed poison.

Within seconds, the cards were flung and the creature flung with it, ending with a satisfying explosion.

He caught up to Logan, dusting himself off in the process.

"Have fun?" Logan asked, keeping his eyes straight again.

"Always."

He was about to comment again when his steps faltered, as the ice, now only fifty feet away, began to melt.

Logan paused, his eyes narrowing, the knives sliding from his hands, a low growl coming from his throat.

The lean thief kept his hands in his pockets, drawing out two cards slowly.

And then they froze.

"Storm," Remy whispered.

"Rogue."

The two women were now outside the wall, both dressed in black, both tense, angry...

Oh, Shit.

"GODDESS!"

He began to run, barely taking note of Logan keeping the pace, eyes only on the pair, watching as their heads whipped around, caught them running toward them.

Storm's eyes widened, her eyes glazed a milky white as her hands reached out, almost as if to ward them off.

"REMY! NO!"

Rogue's gaze was hard as she saw the two men, and for only half a second, Remy thought he could see something other than the darkness in her face.

But she only shook her head. "Sorry Storm. Gotta make the point."

Storm turned, and Remy felt his heart climb into his throat and he tried to sprint faster, the cards catching heat.

"ROGUE! NO!"

"MARIE!"

But Rogue didn't listen, instead she had eyes only for Storm, as the ebony-skinned wind Goddess stumbled back, watching as winds began to whirl around them both, swirling and falling and suddenly Remy was knocked to his knees, trenchcoat whirling as the wind bit at them, hard and angry.

These were not Ororo's winds.

His eyes closed against the searing, biting snow whirling around him, and he crawled forward blindly, barely hearing Logan yelling hoarsely somewhere behind him.

The wind bit at his skin, but he continued forward, feeling his strength ebb bit by bit... but he only grit his teeth and moved on.

And as quick as it had come, the wind stopped, silent and clear.

Remy coughed, groaned, pushed himself up, wiping the snowflakes from his face, looking forward.

OH GOD NO.

He tried to mouth words as his heart dropped out from under him, and he scrambled forward, on hands and knees, sliding down next to the fallen Storm.

Ororo Munroe lay on the ground, eyes closed, a wound in her stomach, and she was seeping blood. There was so much blood.

"Oror-" He gasped for breath, tears suddenly making it painful to see, unsure what to do, unable to touch her for fear he would hurt her further. "Godd... Storm... Storm... " He swallowed down, hard, his heart pounding furiously, so low and so fast he felt it beating in his ears, gasping as he pressed a gloved hand to her wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

But she didn't move, her beautiful face never showed any emotion, and when Logan kneeled down next to him, his eyes blood shot and his throat raw, he voiced what Remy would have given anything not to hear.

"Oh God.. Storm... Oh God... Oh... I think she's... "

"NO!" Remy roared, pushing him back, cradling the body to him. "She's NOT. She's NOT."

Logan only stared, his body trembling, watching as Remy pulled her closer to him, head suddenly pressed against her chest. "She's going to be okay... She will... she is going to fine.."

"She's not going to be fine. She's dead. Just like Marie is dead."

A boot landed in his chest and he was kicked back, losing his hold on the body of Storm as he tumbled back into the snow drifts.

Logan had the knives out, and Remy scrambled up, his cards up, his heart broken and his anger intensified. "ROGUE!"

Rogue only watched, standing over the body of her former best friend, the deep violet of the eyes never more vibrant as she regarded the two of them.

"I had to make a point. Now get out of here. Leave me alone."

"Marie-"

"I MEAN it LOGAN!" she snapped, interrupting the haunted, hoarse tone of Logan's. "The girl you knew is gone, and I have no idea what I will turn into. But get your asses back to camp and let them know. Maybe then you'll finally play."

Gambit swore, his eyes flooding with tears as he looked at Ororo, and when he threw his hand back to fling the card, the ice slid up from under him, and he and Logan were flung back.

He landed with a jar, head jarred and arm bleeding from the fall, and as he lost consciousness, the last thing he remembered was the pair of violet eyes watching from the window.

---

CHAPTER SIX

Scott Summers found his wife alone in the meeting room, back facing him, eyes riveted on the maps that had been made of the surrounding area.

He paused, tilting his head, watching her reach out and touch one map, slid her finger down it.

In his red-hazed world, she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her body was tall, lean, curvy. Her eyes were so bright and yet so subtle, and although her looks were something she was never allowed to forget, they never seemed to matter. True, she always took care to look her best, and true, she was always dressed in the most fashionable clothes that Charles' vast resources had afforded her to buy, but there was always something about her, as if she was unaware that she could cause accidents, very nearly had once while they were walking through town.

And she was his wife. A man who could never appreciate the true vibrance of her hair, or the beautiful shade of her eyes. But she loved him, despite the fact that she could never see his eyes... she told him his mind gave her more.

And this morning he had denied her even that. Why? Sadness... anger... jealousy?

He swallowed, walking further into the room, steps hesitant.

"Are they ready?" She spoke without turning, tone distracted, distant, talking to him as if he had been anyone.

"Yes."

"Good." Her eyes flickered back to him this time, and there her gaze stayed. "You look tired."

"I am tired."

She nodded, eyebrows narrowing together as she turned back to the maps. "Hopefully we'll all be able to get some rest... soon." He nodded, didn't move from his spot. "You know it's selfish of me."

His head lifted slightly, looking at her curiously. "What is?"

"The fact that I want more than anything to hold you right now, and know that I can't..."

Her back was still turned to him, she never saw his stunned expression, but he bet she could most likely feel the heartache that came with it. "Jean... you can."

She stiffened slightly, turned back again to meet his eyes. "I wish I could Scott... but with Rogue gone and Storm missing... "

He bit the inside of his cheek, flushing as he looked away. He knew what she was saying... seeing Logan and Remy's faces...

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice louder, more impersonal, coming forward to stand next to her.

"Thinking... finally." She clucked her tongue, crossing her arms, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "I'm missing something here."

"What do you mean?"

"We're going about this the wrong way," she breathed.

His eyebrows knit together, clearly confused, but he said nothing. Jean was without a doubt one of the smartest people he knew, and he had long ago learned to simply let her mind go, without interruptions. She would explain herself soon enough.

"Scott, Rogue has never been like this. What we saw, what she said to me..." she trailed off, shuddering slightly, her hand cradling the back of her neck as she turned, massaging lightly, moving past him to pace.

"What did she say to you?"

She paused, looking at him, and then choosing to ignore the question as she continued, voicing her thoughts. "It was him. He's inside of her, changing her... It's all a game to him. And we've been fighting it all wrong."

"Jean-"

"NO Scott! Don't you see? It's ... He doesn't like to fight - He's playing with our heads. It's a mindgame. All these battles and explosions they mean nothing. He's got us in our heads. That's why he's using Rogue. He's winning the battle up here!" she emphasized, the hand to her temple. She continued her walk, paced, breath hitching slightly. "Destiny. He wanted Rogue's mutation because he wants to be one of us...Rogue's mutation allows him to use any of our powers against us... but... "

Scott crossed his arm, leaning against the table, fascinated with Jean's revelations.

"What?"

She paused, one hand leaning against the table, eyes on some far off spot only she could see. "Scott... something's changing in his plan... he wouldn't NEED Rogue for that... He should have just destroyed her..."

"How do you know-"

"Because that's what I would have done." Scott swallowed at the matter-of-fact answer, stepping back slightly as Jean crossed her arms, lost in thought, never noticing his reaction. "But... something changed and..." she stopped, turning. "I think he's in love with her."

Scott blinked, "He's WHAT?"

"That explains it! Why he would take her back. He's not trying to kill her because he's in love with her... and... if That's true... he would want to obliterate anything and everything that would bring her back to us."

Scott had to swallow to get the moisture back in hit tongue before he spoke. "So he's trying to take over Rogue completely?"

"Yes. ROGUE. HIS ROGUE. The Rogue he created. He's ... killing Marie... the little girl, the heart of Rogue. Anything that links his Rogue to Marie... Logan... us... he wants to her to forget it all. And if THAT is true..." she paused, her body trembling slightly. "Then Storm is in seriously trouble."

Scott nodded breathlessly.

"And Rogue?"

"Rogue's been fighting strong personalities in her head for a long time... she can more than hold her own... she would never have let him in her if she thought she couldn't unless we were on the line... " she paused, her eyes darkening slightly. "I think she needed my help. That's what she was telling me. She can't get a hold of him..." Her eyes brightened in realization and she whirled to speak when the flap flew open and Logan stumbled into the room, breaking into her speech.

"Storm's dead."

At first the words didn't seem to make sense. Scott blinked, staring blankly at Logan, and when his eyes moved around Logan to Remy, who was holding his injured shoulder and bleeding from a cut above his left eyebrow, the world suddenly dropped out from under him.

He forced himself to breathe, felt his chest rising back and forth, barely eeking out an answer. "What... happened?"

Logan swallowed, looked toward Remy, but the Cajun looked incapable of anything coherent. Instead he leaned against the wall, head lolling back, eyes on Jean as she came forward. She cradled his head in her palms, inspecting the damage.

"What happened, Logan?" he repeated, heart hammering so loudly against his chest he had trouble hearing when Logan rasped a reply.

"Gambit and I... we went after Rogue and Storm... and she... she killed her...right in front of us-" The voice was thick, too thick, because Logan broke off and something that was akin to a howl and a growl emerged unwillingly from his throat. "I shouldn't have let her go, FUCK. I SHOULDN'T HAVE LET GO." He banged his fist at the wall. Scott could only watch, only aware of the breathing, letting it all sink in.

"Storm... Ororo's dead?"

Jean was trembling, trembling so violently, head buried in her hands as she hid her face from the world, and he closed his eyes when his vision blurred suddenly, mind full of the Goddess of the winds with the somber smile and the laughing eyes.

Their very best friend.

Killed by Rogue.

"No," he rasped. "DAMMIT NO." Logan was heaving against the wall like a caged animal, Remy's eyes were flooded with tears and the Cajun openly grieved, not caring who was in the room or who was watching as Jubilee and Kitty ran inside, watching the scene with wide eyes.

"I loved her," the Creole whispered. "I loved her."

It never occurred to Scott to be angry with the two men for breaking rank and attempting their own rescue. Instead his eyes flew to Jean, who now had her hands on her thighs, eyes closed, breathing in and out in a way he had seen her do before, putting it all away until she could deal with it.

But flashes of Storm still slid before his eyes and he found himself reaching out blindly for a chair, sinking into it as his weakened legs gave way.

His heart beat so fast and his throat was clogged with tears, body slumped over like a child as he attempted to swallow down the tears, the buried emotion.

Oh, God.

He was the leader... he had to... he had to pull it together... he was the leader.

His mind scrambled and he tried his best to say something, but the hoarse emotion kept blocking his voice and the lump in his throat was beyond painful.

"We..." he gasped. "We have to..."

"We can't stay here." He looked up to see Jean standing, coming over to him, her hands on his shoulders, squeezing as she looked at the rest of the group that had momentarily assembled into the room. "We're not doing anything here , and we have no reason to stay here."

Logan whimpered, lost in his own anger, fear... hurt and betrayal.

"If Rogue has killed Storm, then she has reached the point of no return. She is now considered our enemy, and it will be up to us to destroy her at all costs." No one argued, and in the lingering sadness that clouded the room, Scott wondered how Jean found the courage to speak at all. "But we're not going to do any good here. We need to be back at the mansion, regroup... we need to know how to fight her."

"We... " Logan tried to fight it, Scott could tell, but when he sank down on the floor, palms spread out on the ground in desperate submission, he knew that it was over.

And he stood, squeezing Jean's hand as he looked at the group, taking over. "Let's go."

---

Jean threw the last pack into the jet, her heart beat slow, steady... not at all chaotic.

She didn't allow herself to think of Storm, of her best friend since high school, of the smiles or the pranks that had been played, and though the knot in her stomach suggested that she felt guilty because of it, Jean knew she had the lives of sixteen other team members to preserve, and she very much intended they stay that way.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat that never really went away, and when her eyes roamed over the camp that had been collapsed and pulled apart in less than twenty minutes, there was only one dark figure that was left.

She bit her lip, glancing back to the other members who were buckling up, and jumped back down, her feet sinking into the snow, walking toward Logan.

She gave him a minute, and then came forward, gently touching his elbow. "Logan. We have to go."

He didn't move, didn't look at her, his voice hoarse and rough and angry. "I thought you said we'd get her back Jean."

She could say nothing to that.

He didn't speak, his eyes narrowed. "She still has to be in there."

"Logan."

"I'm not gonna give her up that easy!" he snarled, head whipping about to face her. "I can't."

She stared at him, arms crossed, eyes boring into his. "Who the hell says I'm giving up?"

He stared at her, didn't move.

"Get your ass in the jet, Logan."

The order was given, and for a second, she was afraid that the dark, uncharacteristic tone wasn't enough, but he only growled slightly, eyes full of pain and hurt and voice raw with emotion, and looked back to the winds.

She held her breath until he walked past her, climbing into the jet.

Her eyes closed and the tears brimmed under hers, but she wiped her tears away, looking at the white snow with narrowed eyes.

God... she had been so close... she could have sworn-

The wind began to whip harder, startling her back into the present, and quickly she moved, grabbing Bobby's outstretched hand and climbing into the jet as the door closed behind her.

"We're going to have trouble," Scott told her matter-of-factly as she slipped into the chair beside him. Ororo's old seat.

She blinked, taking a breath. "What?"

"The winds," he said, his jaw set and determined. "Bastard sent his damn winds after us."

Jean glanced down at the control panel, her eyes moving up to find that indeed, a swirling blizzard was heading in their direction.

"Sick Fuck," she heard muttered behind her, and even she felt a bit of contemptible hate at the reminder of what they had lost.

"Scott, now."

He nodded, and the jet rose, expertly going into a take-off until the winds hit the jet and it shuddered. Jean jerked out of her seat, banging her head against the wall as the shaking started. She paid it no mind, hearing the curses and the mutters behind from the other team members

Her hand lurched out to steady herself, eyes now on the controls as the jet rocked, the winds pulling at them. Scott's forehead beaded with sweat and she gasped as the jet lurched down, her stomach dropping down along with it.

"DAMMIT," he growled, in a tone that would have made Logan proud as he pulled up, eyes flicking up to the view screen.

"Someone sure as hell doesn't want us to leave."

"Kitty! Radio the other jet and check on the professor!" Jean ordered, throwing her words back behind her. "Make sure he's allright."

Immediately she heard Kitty's voice contacting the other jet as theirs continued to rock.

"They got out, they're fine," she said after a minute.

"Scott..." Jean said, watching as the winds came faster.

He only pursed his lips, and with a yell he lurched forward and the jet shot forth as if shot out of a cannon. The group lurched forward, then snapped back as the seat belts held them and the plane rose higher in the sky.

Jean felt a sigh of relief exhale from her body as she held her hands to her forehead, rising shakily, looking back.

"Everyone okay?"

"Physically or mentally?"

Jean gave Kitty a sad shrug, and squeezed her shoulder as she walked past her, settling into the seat with the backview, telling Jubilee to take her place up top.

Her heart beat faster as she looked forward.

God... those had really felt like Ororo's winds.

She ignored her instincts, closing her eyes, and leaning back, steadying her breath.

As her exhausted mind dozed, she never caught the black figure standing in the snow, looking up at the rapidly departing jet.

---

Her mind was troubled. He could feel it as he skimmed her skin with his fingertips, palm settled on her ribs, her body trembling ever so slightly as she nestled in the crook of his arm, licking her lips and lost in her own world.

"How do you feel?"

Her eyes, brown and soft, but always with the violet tint that was his, narrowed slightly as they focused on him.

"How the hell do you think I feel?"

"Elated?"

She pinched him, and he blinked, pinching her back.

She pulled away from him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"No, not ELATED. I just killed my best friend."

The corners of his mouth turned downwards as he reached for her, pulling her back gently against her. "That's disappointing."

She pursed her lips, looking back at him. "You think so too?"

He found himself smiling at her child-like ignorance.

"Disappointing that you feel that way."

She paused, looking away. "I know you wanted me to do it."

"Is that why you did it?"

She shrugged. "I had to make a point. But Remy and Logan's eyes... "

A cold chill settled over his heart at the mention of her former lover's name, and he closed his eyes, taking the moment to breathe, aware that the Marie in Rogue's heart was alive and well.

He reached forward, gripping her wrist, and pulled her back on top of him, reaching up to pull her chest until it was level with his bare one.

"That will not do, now will it?" he whispered, his eyes cold, deadly, even.

Her chest heaved against his, arousing him, marking a change in his breathing, as he hands slid up her small waist and over her silk night gown to her bare shoulders, feeling the skin beneath his palms.

Her eyes were wide open as he pulled her as close as he could against him, pinning her, flipping them over until she was held underneath him. For a brief moment, he could sense the fear behind them until he reached down, pressing his lips against the spot just under her jaw where her aching pulse beat.

"Augustus," she breathed, raggedly, and when he growled softly in response, she stiffened, and pushed him off with a surprising burst of strength, knocking him off the bed.

"NO." Her eyes blinked and her hands rubbed over her shoulders, hugging herself as she shook her head adamantly. "I can't... Augustus... it HURTS."

His eyes widened and he moved, immediately scrambling up to grasp her hands, thumbs rubbing circles, his own head splintering as the connection resurfaced.

"Rogue, look at me. Come on, dear, look at me." She shuddered, trying to push him away, but he continued, until her eyes met his own, and his narrowed, mouth speaking words, and the trembling stopped and she whimpered, burying herself in his arms. The tears on her cheeks felt wet and moist against his chest, but he only continued to hold her, pressing kisses against her forehead, her hair, feeling her heart beating rapidly under her breasts.

"I can't do this anymore, Augustus. It has to stop."

"I know," he whispered, eyes narrowing as his eyes stopped at the uniform she had brought with her, at the silver X that was emblazoned on it. "Yes it does." He grit his teeth, staving off her pain and once again he blocked her out, letting her handle her burden and he cradled her head in his palms, looking at her. "Rogue, Rogue look at me. Do you want it to stop?"

She nodded mutely, eyes flooded with tears.

"The pain and anger and guilt, do you want it to stop?"

A pause, and then a nod.

"Then destroy your past. They are the ones causing the pain."

There was a long moment, but the purple eyes glinted and she finally nodded again, lips moving to kiss his palms before extracting herself from his arms.

He moved as she scrambled over him, reaching for the black leather pants he had given her, and pulling them on, her back to him as she pulled off the nightgown and slid on a black sweater instead.

"Where are you going, Rogue?"

"Outside. I need to think. If I do this I need to have my head clear for it."

His eyes narrowed, and he considered protesting, but evidently having him in her head had given her a view on his personality because she immediately tossed "If I had wanted to leave wouldn't I have done it by now? Trust me, Augustus."

He smiled and raised an eyebrow, lying back on the bed as she pulled on the long black jacket that reached her knees. "Get everything ready, Augustus. We'll go when I get back."

His smile widened, content to ask, "Where?"

She paused. "Ta destroy mah past, sugar."

---

His mind was a fucking whirlwind.

Logan had never felt this tense or angry before, never felt his heart splintered into a million pieces and had never felt the nausea that settled into the stomach, making him half wild and desperate.

He had never wanted to not believe something more than what he had seen, what he had felt the moment his heart seared in two as his beautiful little Marie, responsible for killing a woman, a friend, who only tried to save her, tell them that the woman he had given his soul too, was dead.

He couldn't believe it.

He knew he was an asshole and Dammit if the other team members looked at him with that pitying half scared look one more time he was going ram some heads up asses.

He stuck close to Remy. The injured Cajun said nothing to him, but Logan stuck by him, making sure the thief was taken care of by the blue furred beast in the medical ward, then walking with him to the meeting room where he knew Jean and Scott would be waiting.

He remembered not liking him, only a few weeks ago, he remembered hating him. But at that moment the damned Frenchmen with the annoying accent and even more annoying third-person talk was the only person he could stand to see.

Remy knew why, and Logan, with his bitter, seething growl and broken heart, never mentioned the reason.

As he walked into the room, made sure Remy was seated and sank down into the chair next to him, his mind was buried with flashes.

His eyes snapped closed and she was under him, whispering his name, body bathed in sweat as her fingernails raked across his back and her eyes opened as her hips arched, soft and dark and brown and so full of passion and -

"Logan."

His eyes snapped open and he involuntarily growled, finding Jean staring at him, her voice purposely void of any emotion.

He had wondered at the military act she was putting on, and watching her, knowing she could see and probably feel the anger and longing ripping through him, he finally felt he figured her out.

She knew how to act with him. She knew that any minute he'd crack and the minute she let up and started being Jean he'd walk all over her like he walked all over everyone.

But she didn't.

So he stayed put, pulling the cigar out of his jean jacket and sticking it into his mouth.

"What?"

Her arms were crossed, mouth pursed, the glasses only adding to the aura of her newly appointed job as a leader as she looked at the three men.

"What do you think?"

"About what?"

"About Rogue." The voice was clipped, crisp.

He felt his heart lurch, but he managed to sound only bitter and angry as he responded. "What about Rogue?"

"I need to know what will happen when and if you come face to face with her," she said matter-of-factly. "Because if you don't know, then I'd rather you not be a part of this mission."

"You're asking if I could kill her."

"Yes."

It was honest, and despite the anger flaring and the glare he gave her, he had to give her credit for being honest. So he was honest right back.

"Fuck no."

"That's all I needed to know."

Scott had moved, turning his face away from him, and Logan watched as Jean pulled the glasses from her eyes, closing them and rubbing at them slowly.

"I'm going to have to do it."

Scott stiffened, the cigar fell out of Logan's mouth and Remy sat up, eyes narrowing.

"What?"

"This is... not something any of you can handle. It's ... hard to explain... I have to shut her down, from the inside."

"Like what the professor did with Logan?"

She looked distracted, but she nodded. "Something like that. Then we'll only have to worry about Augustus."

"I'm going to kill that bastard."

Scott and Remy turned to look at him, but Jean didn't seem the least surprised as she regarded Logan, who now stood to face her.

"Logan-"

"I almost did it before."

"He didn't have Rogue's memories, her powers then."

"I can kill him."

Jean opened her mouth to argue again when a piercing siren burst into his ears. He winced, putting his hands on his ears and Jean and Scott immediately exchanged glances, heading to the viewscreen.

Remy and Logan immediately followed. Logan crossed his arms, trying to block out the siren that continued as Jean's hands flew over the controls.

"Holy shit," Scott gasped, and immediately went over to the table, calling up the image diagnostic.

The school appeared, and Logan's eyes widened as he saw what was coming.

Jean licked her lips. "Looks like we don't have to worry about getting inside that icebox anymore," she breathed. "They're here."

---

The school was under attack.

Jubilee grit her teeth, replacement goggles fitting over her eyes nicely as she led the children down the corridor, once again furious at the events that had taken place.

It just FIGURED Rogue would get that Auggie guy and his deluded mutants to attack them on their turf.

"GO!"

Jubilee flung her arm around the student, pulling him closer to her as she gathered another mutant child with her free arm. The darkness flickered back and forth with the red lights and she winced, keeping them close to her as she heard the furious sounds of the battle outside.

"KITTY!"

"HERE!" Shadowcat dove forward, pulling another child with her, and then running back into the wall.

Jubilee winked at the green haired kid... Jess... that was his name... and patted him. "It's all good, Jess, we're just taking you down for some-"

BAM!

The door slammed open and Jubilee immediately placed herself in front of the group of children, her eyes narrowed as she held her fingers ready.

The mutant looked more like a beast than a man, and Jubilee felt her heart jump slightly as she pushed the kids backwards, opening the door that led downstairs.

"Run. Down to the basement like you've been taught. GO."

The silver eyes narrowed, and she stood, the fighting stance easy and loose.

He shot out with claws and she ducked under them easily, kicking him hard in the stomach before rolling away from him. Thank God for being small and nimble. He plowed after her, knocking over desks and chairs and she jumped over the large teacher's desk, flipping over it and shooting out the sparks that landed directly in his face.

He growled, arms swinging out and she barely avoided the sharpened nails as she stumbled over the fallen desk. He was bleeding where the charges had him, but the room was quickly getting smaller.

Jubilee took in a quick breath and scrambled to her feet, shooting the sparks that were blocked when he picked up a student's desk and held it in front of him.

SHIT. He was actually smart.

The door behind them burst open and Kitty stopped, holding back the group of children she had with her as she took in the scene.

"KITTY! Get them down there!" She launched forward, plowing into Silver-Eyed Beastie Guy with a force that send them both flying back, and Kitty immediately grabbed the kids, pushing them to the other side of the room.

"Let's go guys, come on. Alex, Prissy, Jake - NOW."

One of the older students paused as Kitty shut the door, and when she turned back, he opened it again.

"Is that the thing that killed Ms. Munroe?" he shouted over the fighting in the room.

Kitty did a double take, ducking when the Claw guy threw Jubilee across the room and reached for her. "DARYL! Get your ass back in there!"

"IS HE?"

"NO!"

Daryl weighed his options, and with a set frown he slipped back inside the classroom, and picked up a desk.

With a yell, he flung it forward, hands shooting out as the thing changed in mid air.

When it struck the mutant in the back, it had become a spear.

Kitty and Jubilee both watched with widened eyes as the Mutant growled in pain, rearing back, dropping Kitty and sinking to the ground.

Jubilee gasped and she looked at the student.

"Daryl?"

He frowned, shrugging slightly. "I liked Ms. Munroe."

Jubilee's expression was hard to tell, but Kitty's smile froze before she came forward, stepping around Silver-Eyed-Mutant-Guy and squeezing his shoulder. "We gotta go get the other kids. Can you take care of these?"

The new student nodded, and walked back into the corridor.

Her shoulders slumped, and Kitty blinked her tears away, taking a deep breath before straightening and turning to Jubilee.

"Come on."

---

Explosions boomed all around him, but Logan didn't give a rat's ass. He smelled the smoke, saw the ashes, saw the school littered with his fighting colleagues, but even the smell of the fight did nothing to quell his need to face one man.

He growled, the knives slipping from his hands as his eyes caught the injured Remy grappling with the same snake man from before.

His eyes narrowed and he launched forward, claws digging into the Snake's shoulder, barely looking as the man slithered and cried out, barely hearing as Remy shouted his thanks, instead his eyes continued to rove, like a hunter in search for prey.

Something launched at him and he barely paid any noticed, throwing it off and kicking it to the ground.

If these bastards were here, then Rogue was here, and if Rogue was here...

"Logan, I presume?"

Logan's eyes narrowed and the seething hate bloomed in his soul. The bastard with the purple eyes.

Augustus smiled, crossing his arms. "You know I don't normally do this whole climactic battle. But I figured... just one time wouldn't hurt."

He growled and doved forward, claws extended. Augustus sideswiped him easily, kicking him in the back, but Logan caught his knees, bringing him to the ground with him.

---

"Are you all right?"

Jean kept her hand on her forehead, keeping the door closed from the intruders as she walked backwards, ignoring Cyclops.

She waited a minute, taking a breath, and pushed with all her might.

The door stopped banging, for the moment.

She swallowed, then turned to Scott. "Fine. Scott, I need you to make sure Charles is safe. I'll try to keep them from getting in and then we help the others."

"I'm not leaving you."

"I'll be fine. I'd rather you be with him."

"Jean-"

She cut him off by kissing him roughly, letting a lingering hand caress the rim of his glasses as she smiled. "Come back when you can."

He nodded, swallowing and kissing her quickly one more time he let her go, running through the library where they were stationed.

She let out her breath, gathering the loose strands of her reddish mane and pulling it back into the ponytail where it had fallen free.

The door pounded again and she jerked back to face it, grabbing one of the battle batons and walking toward it.

"I wouldn't worry about him. Beast is on the other side completely kickin' his ass."

Jean froze, and her eyes closed as she took a breath, steadying herself, keeping her face perfectly neutral as she turned toward the open window.

"Hello, Rogue."

Rogue smiled, swinging her legs easily as she leaned on the third story window ledge. "Hey Jean."

---

Robert Drake's eyes were ice blue, and his rage was considerable as he slid on the slippery wet ice that his outstretched arm produced before him.

In and out, he weaved between the fighting mutants, icicles spitting from his left hand, pinning mutants to the ground, thankful that they were fighting on the very grounds he trained on.

He smiled as he iced the ground one mutant was fighting on, and the smile widened as he looked over his shoulder to find St. John melting it easily, making the mutant fall back flat on his back, leaving Remy to finish the job.

His throat clogged for just a second as he saw Logan fighting off the man with the purple eyes, and the emotion, the hatred directed at him outweighed even his dislike for Logan.

But he wasn't completely useless... he continued to ice and St. John continued to melt because the long years of training had taught him one thing that fire and ice had both used to their advantage:

Things got slippery when they were wet.

And fire and ice, when hot and cold enough, BURNED.

---

It felt like a face-off.

Jean kept her head even, her eyes not on Rogue's eyes, but on her hands, as they circled each other slowly, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Rogue always was a talker, and Jean had learned in the long training simulations to let her talk, because Rogue used the distraction to get at you, either a foot hooked under a hip, or an elbow sneaking it's way under her armpit.

She was crafty. She didn't just enjoy the battle, didn't launch into it like Logan and Remy did or stay as far from it as possible so as to have a clear shot like Scott did, to her it was a game...

A mind game.

"You know, Jean Ah'm disapointed in you."

Jean remained silent, watching as Rogue's fingers twitched slightly, not looking into the violet eyes for fear of who she might find behind it.

"You out of everyone here could finish it. You know what it takes."

Again, Jean said nothing. She was ready when Rogue lurched forward and when it happened she merely used her mind to swing Rogue with her momentum into the nearest wall.

Books fell off shelves and the walls teetered, but Rogue stood, smiling, nodding.

Jean nodded back, a smile on her own on her face.

Rogue got up, dusted herself off.

"You know for the longest time, you were a hero to me. It seemed like you had it all together. But I don't think you do. If you did you wouldn't have freaked out... would you?"

Rogue's foot shot out and Jean blocked it easily, again using Rogue's much more immense strength against hers, sweeping under her foot and pushing up.

Rogue flipped over her head, catching Jean with a sharp, but largely ineffective kick in the back. Jean stumbled forward, but righted herself easily, her breath becoming gasps, sweat beginning to bead her forehead.

She turned back, regarding Rogue.

Rogue paused, hands falling to her sides as she looked at Jean, eyes narrowing. "You're learning, Jean. I think you've figured it out."

Jean merely plastered a fake smirk on her face, eyes on her Rogue's hands once again. Something was wrong. Rogue was usually a better fighter than this... It was almost as is she was intentionally-

"You know the darkness... you're afraid of it... afraid you might like it maybe? You've never tasted it, have you? But you want to, because you know that deep down you can play the game. You can play it better than me... better than him."

Jean shook her head slightly, her lungs tightening as the words washed over her. Shit, Jean. Don't listen... don't listen... She wants you to listen...

"All this? The bombs and men with their damn testorone fighting and getting sweaty and the bruises and punches and blood... that's not the real game. The real game is upstairs... in here." Rogue's finger tapped the side of her temple and Jean licked her lips, her heart skipping a beat.

Shit... there it was again... that... feeling she couldn't quite put her finger on...

Her eyebrows knit together in concentration and her gaze went to Rogue's eyes, right where she suspected Rogue wanted them.

Rogue paused, sliding onto a desk, watching Jean quietly.

"You know what made me run, Jean? It was Bobby. Ah found him an' Logan six feet in the snow, and Bobby had three clawmarks through his stomach... right here." Her hand rested against her tight abdomen, making her point.

Jean's eyes narrowed, and she found herself pausing, as Rogue's eyes bore into hers.

Bobby never had any claw marks-

Jean gave a huge gasp inward. She blinked once, twice, and her head shook and her body trembled and her heart gave and suddenly Rogue was next to her, hand to her throat, seconds away from squeezing the life out of her.

"What'sa matter, Jean?" she whispered roughly, pushing her back against the bookshelf. "Fight gone outta ya?"

Jean stared deeply into her eyes, and she finally smiled, speaking for the first time to her old comrade.

"No. I'm done fighting. I'm ready to play. Game's not lost yet."

Rogue watched her, Jean felt her hands tighten slightly and she closed her eyes, praying she had made the right choice.

And the fingers slipped away from her throat. Rogue's strong arms helped her right herself easily. When Jean's eyes opened, Rogue was smiling at her, hands at her sides.

"Nice to have someone on my team for once."

---

If Scott Summers had stopped to muse on his team, he would have been quite proud.

Almost all the mutants who had managed to get inside had been promptly shoved out or snuffed out, and thankfully, except for a twisted ankle, none of the children were hurt.

But he never was one to muse during a fight, and instead his mind and heart were only trained on one thing : his wife.

He ran through the corridor, barely stopping to clap Beast on the shoulder, his heart hammering against his chest as he pushed the door open where he had last seen Jean.

His throat immediately closed, his eyes widened, and his hand went to his visor.

"Jean duck!"

Rogue and Jean jerked their heads in his direction, and Rogue's hand immediately slipped from Jean's cheek, moving back toward the window.

Jean reached her hand out, cried out for him to stop, but his fingers flicked, and Rogue couldn't move fast enough.

The red blast hit her square in the chest, taking her body with it.

Jean ran to the window, stopping as she watched Rogue land with a thud in the meadow, in the midst of the fighting.

"Oh, God, Scott," she whispered. "What the hell did you do?"

She jerked away from the window, pushing past him, and ran out of the room.

---

He ducked under his flying hand, reaching up and punching him hard in the solarplex.

Augustus groaned, eyes flashing as he grabbed Logan, ducking under and rolling him over him.

"Enough of the violence. It's so primeval."

"Oh I think the definition of evil ain't me, bub."

The blast from the window caused them both to look up, and suddenly both forms froze as they watched in horror as one woman landed with a sickening squelch on the ground not twenty feet away.

Augustus cried out at the same time as Logan did, both men running toward her immediately.

"MARIE!"

"ROGUE!"

Augustus reached her first, pulling her up, voice raw and hoarse as he lifted her to him, barely able to cradle her before he was pushed back by Logan.

"Stay the hell away from her," he growled, claws extended, cradling the groaning Rogue closer to him as he backed away from Augustus.

Augustus narrowed his eyes, but stayed put, eyes only on Rogue. Logan gently held her, patted her face, eyes wide and voice unsteady in his panic.

"Marie... Marie, darlin'..." he swallowed, eyes lifting up to see Augustus coming near again. "DON'T COME NEAR HER!" he snarled again, and there was so much rage in his voice the violet-eyed man actually paused, if only for half a second.

Again Logan pressed his cheek against Rogue's forehead, eyes burning, holding her tighter. Her eyes fluttered against his cheek and she breathed in, hands at the wound on her chest that hadn't hit her hard enough to cause any permanent damage, but he guessed still hurt like living hell.

"Lo-Logan?"

"Hey... I'm here."

"Get away from her." Augustus was on his haunches, eyes glittering, watching the scene with the grace of a panther. "She's not Marie anymore, Animal. She belongs to me."

"Like HELL she does."

Marie's hand clutched to Logan's lapels, and he gently brushed his lips against the top of her head before setting her down.

The pounding of footsteps behind him startled him, and that was all Augustus needed. He jumped forward, and Logan felt his breath sucked out of him as Augustus jammed his shoulder into his the softness of his stomach, taking Logan with him as they rolled across the ground.

---

Jean winced, watching as the men fought not more than five feet away from her, and she took a breath, nodding the Robert Drake, St. John and Gambit, all who had finished their battles and were watching with mixed emotions.

"Watch Logan. Make sure he and Augustus-"

The cry of pain at her feet drew her attention, and immediately Jean fell to her knees, gathering Rogue's head and bringing it to her thighs.

"Jean what are you doing?!"

Jean immediately looked up, and Scott gasped as he was pinned back, kept away from the fighting by the power of Jean's mind.

"Stay away from this, Scott. It's not your fight. It's not your game."

The voice was harsh and cold and not at all like Jean, but she paid them no attention as she helped Rogue to her feet, hand on the abdomen that shown clearly through the burned spandex.

Her eyes fixated on the brown eyes, the weakened version of Rogue, and she took a breath. "How much longer are we waiting?"

Rogue swallowed, wincing, stumbling forward as she looked at the fight. "Oh, God. He'll kill him."

"Who?"

Rogue's eyes were on the fight, her voice raspy and faint. "Take your pick."

Jean was scared to wonder who the concern was for in Rogue's eyes.

She swallowed, looking up at the clear blue sky.

Rogue groaned, and Jean stumbled under her weight, holding her up as she took a quick look at the men who were still watching, unsure of what to do.

Rogue sucked in her breath, her eyes riveted on the fight.

Augustus and Logan were well matched, and it seemed that now both were fighting bare knuckled, beating each other to a bloody pulp using fists and legs and not much else.

It seemed almost medieval, the dark knight and the white knight fighting for the woman they both loved, for the right to own her, to posses her.

Funny how she knew, in the end, the only one who would own anyone was Rogue herself.

The game was already lost.

"He's toying with him," she whispered, her eyes dark and violet and fascinated.

"Rogue..." Jean's voice held slight dread, but then the winds whipped around them, and Rogue's eyes lifted toward the sky and she smiled.

"TOOK damn long enough."

Jean understood completely, sucking in her breath and taking another look at her friend. "You sure about this?"

Rogue closed her eyes, staving off the pain, and when she looked at Jean, she swallowed. "What's matter, Jean? Backing out of the game so soon?"

"Not a chance."

Rogue regarded her. "You sure about this?"

Jean nodded, almost glaring at her as the fear pounded into her very soul. God was she? Really? Did she trust herself that much?

"Yes," she found herself saying. "I want to play."

"Good." Their fingers tangled and squeezed and the winds whipped harder, swirling around and around until she and Rogue were in the eye of a storm, watching as the blizzard cut off everyone else from their little playground.

"Game's lost," she heard Rogue mumble, and suddenly Rogue ran forward, pushing herself in between the fight and with an amount of strength that was admirable considering her injury, she punched Logan, hard, flinging him hard and fast out of the playing field.

---

Remy held an arm to the bleeding shoulder, watching through the haze of the storm with eyes of uncertainty and dread that shivered through him down to his very soul.

He watched as Logan tried to scramble back in, only to be pushed back by the winds. He watched as Scott screamed for Jean until he became hoarse, but he too was repelled by the winds, so strong and controlled.

It caused a lump in his throat to feel so helpless, so confused...

And it made him damn angry as he looked up on the women he once loved, who had killed the woman who had taken his heart in such a way that would have made any thief proud.

---

Augustus was still, his mouth bleeding, eyes flashing brilliantly when Rogue faced him, face drawn and tired, but still holding that trademark smirk as she cocked her head at him.

"You were going suck him into you, weren't you?"

He pursed his lips, crossing his arms as he watched his little girl, regarded her with growing suspicion and unease in his heart. "It seemed necessary."

"Why?"

"He's a part of you."

"Augustus." Rogue trembled slightly, hand rising to her head as his narrowed. Carefully, he lifted the bond, pulling her mind, her power... and she stumbled back, crying out in pain.

His fingers trembled, but he couldn't take chances now... this had been a mistake... bringing her had been a mistake.

"Time to go home, Rogue."

Her eyes opened and she glanced to the red headed witch that watched from a few feet away, and suddenly the link was severed when an outside force pounded into him.

The stabbing pain brought him to his knees, making him wince, and his hands clenched into fists as he groaned, pitching forward, only to be caught by Rogue.

"Augustus," she whispered. "I am home."

---

Jean sank to her knees, eyes wide open, but body completely spent, tired, so tired already from her invasion in the battle of the minds.

She took in a breath, sucking it in an attempt to concentrate, thankful for the winds that kept her trapped, kept her focused, kept the fear away

Her eyes narrowed as she continued to isolate the heart, the strength, in an attempt to sever the bond and when the darkness caught her heart and squeezed she almost lost control, falling back, feeling it sear into her very soul.

To make order out of chaos was nearly impossible.

But Rogue whispered to her not to be a wimp, to continue to play... she needed her to play.

And Jean grit her teeth, hand stretched out and taking a stronger hold, thanking Charles for his constant, almost tedious mind lessons that had given her this much control... when it could have so easily been lost.

The stability was killing her, but it was all the stability Rogue had, and it was enough, because she watched as Rogue took Augustus, pulled him closer, kept them separate, and after what seemed an eternity, pressed her lips against his.

---

He screamed.

The pain and agony all came back and he struggled violently against her, his mouth muttering words against her lips that should have reversed it.

But it didn't. Her mind simply flipped, locked, found another channel...

She knew too much.

Her grip was strong and his was weakening with every second, but he continued to fight, even as his knees hit the ground, mind reeling, searching and fighting back with every ounce of strength.

"MARIE!"

Logan scrambled to his feet, tried to run into the whirlwind, but he was held back, Scott hooking an arm in his elbow and pulling.

"LOGAN NO!"

"What the hell is going on?!" he demanded.

"I don't know! But you can't go in there until we figure it out!"

"Marie's fucking in there!"

"Yeah and so is Jean!" Scott shouted back, pushing him away. "But you're not going in there!"

Logan glared. "Try me."

He pushed past Scott, but once again he was whipped back by the winds.

His eyes were wide and his throat was raw, and he was weak and tired from the fighting, but still he tried, and still he was flung back, and he cried a roar of animal rage as he could only watch helplessly as Rogue and Augustus continued to struggle.

---

It was a deceptively simple mind-game, but it was often true that the most simple easily became the most complex.

He was struggling, and she could sense Rogue's fear keeping her, stopping her. Jean knew her own doubts were not helping.

So she grit her teeth and pushed past the pain, helping her stay clear... focused...

And prayed she would get through before she passed out.

---

A combined howl came from inside the whirlwind, and Logan swallowed hard as it became fiercer, the debri flying around it making it impossible to see a thing.

"What's going on?" he breathed. Scott stood next to him, finger on his visor, but he looked just as frustrated, craning to find anything to target.

The screaming continued and as quickly as it had come, the winds slowed, stopped, and there was a flash and with no warning, Augustus and Rogue dropped to the ground.

"ROGUE!" he ran forward, but was flung back again, this time by Jean, who held him fast with her mind.

"No! Not until we know for sure!"

"Know what?!"

"Who won the game." Jean swallowed, and walked forward, hand out, keeping Logan at bay as she made her way to the two bodies.

"Jean what are you doing?" St. John cried, looking at Gambit unsteadily. "Get out of there. She killed Storm."

"No, she didn't." The winds picked up slightly at the foreign voice, and like faithful hounds to their master, the winds whipped around Ororo Munroe, who landed lightly at her feet a few feet from Jean.

Storm looked tired, her eyes were still milky white and her knees trembled slightly, but she was very much alive.

Jean paused, her eyes locking with Ororo's, her heart thumping in relief, a gentle smile coming from her face.

"Oh, thank God she didn't lie about that."

Ororo shrugged slightly. "I am sorry it took so long. I had a long flight. You didn't wait for me."

"You're here. That's all that matters to me. DAMN it's good to see you."

Storm smiled, her eyes clouding slightly as she answered, "Likewise." She paused, hesitating, turning to see the X-Men watching with their mouths hanging open.

Her eyes lingered on the face of one red-eyed Cajun in particular, who was staring at her as if he was seeing a ghost, but her attention was quickly diverted when a groan came from Rogue.

Her eyes locked on Jean's and both women ran forward, moving past the hollowed looking form of Augustus, and picking up Rogue, cradling her gently between the two of them.

Rogue looked tired, worn, half dead.

Her eyes opened, and upon seeing them, Jean swallowed, dread flooding through her. They were completely violet.

But Rogue gave only a familiar smile, and in a familiar drawl whispered, "Did we win?"

Ororo smiled gently, fingertips running over Rogue's mane, disentangling the white locks from the dark browns ones. "Yes."

"Yes, Rogue," Jean added, her eyes moistened slightly. "The game's lost."

Rogue gave her a weak smile. "Is Logan okay?"

"Yes."

"Good." Her eyes closed briefly, and in a weak voice she added, "I like it when Ah'm right."

Leaves crunched behind her and Jean looked up.

Logan stared down at them, his face oddly void of expression, eyes locked on Rogue's. His body was trembling.

"Marie?"

Rogue was completely still, but Jean moved, letting Logan kneel down in her place, carefully gather the fallen women's body in his strong arms, pulling her closer.

"Marie?"

She could hear Storm holding her breath beside her, and never realized she was holding her own until Rogue burst into tears, burying herself in Logan's arms.

Her heart lurched at the sound. It was painful, so very painful. The sobs were from the heart, as Rogue's entire body convulsed with them, her eyes closed as she kept her face buried in Logan's shoulder.

"Logan," she barely heard. "Logan, Ah'm sorry."

"Shh.." His voice was raw, and Jean could see he had trouble speaking by the way he swallowed, the way his mouth trembled and his eyes moistened as he pressed his lips to her forehead, bringing her in closer, nose inhaling her scent, eyes closed, sliding his cheek roughly against hers, as if this moment was what he had been waiting for his entire life. "It's okay."

"No... it's not... " Marie struggled for breath, and Jean stopped smiling when she saw Rogue's head fall back.

And then Rogue promptly passed out.

---

He watched her as she slept, reaching out every once in a while to run fingers through the strands of her hair that lay pillowed about her.

Her wounds hadn't been serious. Jean had told him that she had been more exhausted than hurt, and explained that it was better for all of them if Rogue slept.

She had been asleep for three days, but there was no dreams, no nightmares. Every so often her hands twitched or her eyelids fluttered, but that was it.

He knew. He hadn't left her side for more than five minutes from the second she was brought in.

His heart seemed constantly in his throat, and while the others still seemed weary, shocked, and more than a little confused, Logan never questioned it, never questioned the absolution, or Storm's reappearance, even though he had seen her killed before his very eyes.

All he could think about, all he could concentrate on, was the sleeping young woman in the infirmary, with the dark purple eyes that, according to Jean, were now her permanent eye color.

She had absorbed the sick bastard, and Logan's heart was caged with worry at what it would do to her.

He reached forward, taking a gloved palm in his own, pressing it to his lips, closing his eyes and just inhaling.

What he did know, was that there was no way, no how, he was letting her go again.

A deep breath in made his eyes look up.

Rogue's eyes were wide open, dark purple orbs staring at him, her chest heaving back.

He felt the emotion clog his throat, the love threaten to overwhelm him, but he forced himself to stay in his chair, to merely smile, keeping her palm enclosed in his as he said gruffly, "Mornin'."

"Hey, Logan," she whispered, eyes closing again as she attempted to gain her bearings, moving back to focus her eyes on him.

She gazed at him, eyes roaming over him as is he were some sacred object that she had been searching for her whole life and had only just found.

Her eyes flooded with tears and her smile trembled as he pressed her palm to his face again, mouth pressing against the gloved hand, eyes closed in reverence.

"God, I missed you," she whispered, the digits under his lips opening to cup his face lovingly.

"Same here."

She nodded, swallowing. "Did Jean and Storm tell you what happened? Ah mean... I'm sure everyone's kinda confused..."

He gave a snort. That was an understatement. "They're more than confused, Rogue. Jean said that we had to wait... until you're better. You'll explain it better than they could, they don't know half of it themselves."

She managed a small smile. "I did... ask them to take a lot on faith." Her smile faltered as she looked at him, and he wondered if he could see the wounds in his eyes because her eyes watered again and she whispered, "I'm sorry."

The lump came to his throat and he shook it away, grunting. "Marie, that wasn't-"

"I shouldn't have left you that night. But I couldn't wait... if I had waited I wouldn't have been able to leave..."

His vision blurred suddenly as he remembered that night, but Logan didn't cry. He never cried. Instead he only gave a tight smile and shook his head again.

"You were fighting a mad man."

"No," she whispered. "Ah was fighting me."

Silence followed that statement, and slowly, gritting her teeth, Rogue pulled her hand away from him, using it to pull herself up. He immediately stood, hands slipping around her waist to steady her as she sat up.

"Wow," she whispered. "That was... dizzy." With a frown, she looked down to the gloves on her hands. "What're these for?"

His eyes narrowed, his answer clipped. "Jean wasn't sure... she wanted to keep them there... just in case."

"Oh." She nodded matter-of-factly, but immediately pulled them off. "He taught me to control it."

"He?"

Her violet orbs met his and Logan felt his body shudder with rage. Him.

"Marie..." he said after a minute, swallowing. "He... did you... "

Her bare arm on his flannel covered forearm stopped his stammering, sliding up his chest to bring his chin down so that his eyes had no place to go but to her face.

"Hey. He doesn't matter. Not anymore. I had to... Logan... he thought I was his destiny. He had no idea he was mine." He cocked his head, not quiet understanding until Rogue reached up, and gently brushed her lips with his.

The warmth of her lips against his shot a bolt right through him, and when her mouth opened and her tongue gently licked his bottom lip, he groaned, pulling her closer to him, his beating heart matching hers in intensity, body trembling from the contact.

She held him, lips breaking free, in a desperate embrace. He felt the moisture of her tears on his neck but he said nothing, just held her, inhaling her scene, inhaling all of her.

"I love you," she whispered. "You're my heart, Logan."

He squeezed tighter, and her lips brushed against his before whispering in a saucy tone, "'Sides, I've dealt with bigger bastards in my head before. Do you know how long it took for the urge to scratch my non-existent balls went away after you?"

His eyes opened in shock, and he pulled back slightly to look at her.

Her expression was playful, wicked, and her smirk held just a trace of the child he once knew.

But it was a trace, and it was enough.

She winked, and he found himself laughing, the first time in weeks, pulling her closer and just holding her.

"I love you," he whispered. "I'm never letting you go again."

"I won't let you."

---

Storm stepped into the room where the X-Men had gathered. Once again she felt the stares, the looks that told her they couldn't believe it.

She had made the agreement with Jean not to explain her absence and 'death' until Rogue awoke, so as to not tell the story two hundred different times, and truth be told, she was glad.

It was nice, she had to admit, if not a little disconcerting, as the X-Men worked to rebuild the damage that had been done to the school, to be pulled into impulsive hugs and to have children burst into tears and jump into her lap.

Eyes were misty when they saw her, but no eyes bothered her more than the blank stares of the Cajun that held her heart.

She had been unsure what to say to him, what to do. She had felt his turmoil... his anger, maybe, at being tricked, stemming from the fact that he had been there when Rogue and Storm had carried out the plan.

It had more than broken her heart when she heard Gambit crying above her, but heaviness of the deep sleep was too heavy to fight.

He had stayed away from her, always in sight, but never coming near, and her body trembled and her eyes misted slightly with awareness of the fact that she couldn't talk to him, not yet.

What could she say?

I'm sorry I tricked you into thinking I was dead? Into thinking Rogue had killed me? I'm sorry I broke your heart twice?

Her eyes landed on him now, and once again the shuddering in her heart started as his eyes locked with hers.

She swallowed, taking a breath, sat down next to Jean, earning a sympathetic smile from the telepathic mutant.

Charles was seated next to Jean, face paler, thinner than he was before, but smiling, eyes alert and awake.

The other X-men wore mixed expressions, and Storm saw the reason as Rogue walked in, hand clasped with Logan's, walking hesitantly into the room.

She saw Jubilee avert her eyes immediately, saw Kitty shudder once, saw Bobby and St. John look away.

She also saw the sad expression that had flicked over Rogue's features for two seconds before she had pushed it away.

Jean cleared her throat, motioning for Rogue to sit.

"We owe you an explanation," she addressed the group. "That's why we're here."

There was silence again, and Rogue straightened, nodded as Jean looked at her. "I know ya'll are pretty confused... and I'm sorry. I never meant to suck you guys inta this. At the last battle, I met Augustus on a rooftop. He touched me, and he told I was his destiny." Her voice was soft, gentle, but oddly firm. "Ah didn't believe him, but the touch branded me, changed me, and later, when I went to go look for Bobby and Logan, Ah was so screwed up in the head... I could have sworn I saw Bobby bleedin' from three claw makes in his chest. I thought Logan had done... and I lost it." She paused, lips trembling slightly, before taking a breath and continuing. "When I realized what I had done, when all the murkiness had gone away, I had to leave... I was a danger to a group and I had almost killed him." Logan's hand tightened around hers.

"I don't want to go into to much, but Augustus found and there was this spell... and he was in my head at the same time... as I was in his... I learned things from him... I learned how to ... I never planned on hurting any of you. He... had Storm... and..."

"Rogue knew that she had to play Augustus' game in order to defeat him," Storm broke in gently. Rogue smiled a gentle thanks, and Storm nodded back, continuing. "She knew that only she could keep him from coming after us, was to learn from him, all she could, and use that against him. When she came back to him, she and I formed a plan. She had learned how Augustus had used Bobby against her, and she decided to turn it around, use it against him, make him believe the she really accepted her destiny... with him. She had to cloud his judgment. She had to make him love her to keep him from destroying her."

Jean cleared her throat. "That original plan was to kill the body and take the mind. Rogue manipulated him into thinking he needed the body as well."

Kitty raised an eyebrow, but Rogue only took a breath.

"Storm's death, we staged for HIS benefit. We had no idea Remy and Logan were there until it was too late."

Storm watched as Remy shifted in his seat, and her eyes were only on him as she continued. "I was originally supposed to 'die' to get out, and then I was supposed to go back to the camp, warn you all, and convince Jean to help Rogue. But when Remy and Logan came... that kind of threw a wrench in the whole thing."

"We had to go through with it. He was watchin'... I'm sorry," Rogue said again. "I really did not.. you're weren't supposed to know."

"What did you need Jean's help for?" Jubilee asked.

Rogue swallowed, looked to Jean, who simply nodded, fielding the question. "Rogue wasn't strong enough, she was too weakened to fight him off herself. She needed me give her the stability she needed to push him out of her body and then suck him back in. That was why she convinced him to come here."

"At the same time, you all had assumed wrong," Storm said, a faint trace of a smirk on her face. "I tried to keep you guys from leaving long enough to take you with me."

Bobby gasped and St. John's eyes widened. "Those were YOUR winds holding us back?"

She shrugged. "Apparently they weren't strong enough. I had a hell of a long flight back home."

"Okay," Jubilee's hand rose slightly, the glasses slid from her face as she leaned forward. "You know, this explains a lot, but it still doesn't explain why Rogue beat us up and why she creeped the living hell out of us."

"Well I couldn't just COME OUT and say I was trying to beat him, could I? I mean I had to be semi convincing and considering I had a psycho in my head you're lucky I didn't kill you!"

"Rogue," Jean warned, and Rogue flushed, leaning back. "Rogue kept the game was lost, to let her go. She was trying to warn us, that she had him beat, and didn't want us to interfere."

Rogue nodded.

"Ohhhh..."

"I know that a lot of you don't trust me... and I don't blame you. But I've got Augustus contained. His powers... they're under my control."

"So you can do all that wind shit.. and the touching thing?"

"I can flip it back on and off. He was wizard. It's just spells."

"But you know them all."

"Yes."

"You're right, it is gonna be kinda scary for a while."

Rogue conceded with a slight smirk and Jean shook her head, getting up.

"I think that explains it for now. If anyone has questions, they can direct them to Rogue later. For now I suggest we get lunch."

Murmurs filled the room as chairs were pushed back. Rogue shot Jean a grateful look and Jean only smiled as she whispered to Storm, "This is going to be interesting."

Ororo smiled back, pushing her chair back in and walking toward the doorway, keeping her eyes purposely away from Remy's body as she walked down the hall to her classroom.

She sat down at the chair, took a deep breath, and leaned over the desk, sliding her fingers in her long white hair, trembling slightly.

"So that... dying thing. Was not for me, no?"

Her hands jerked away from her face, as her eyes riveted on the Cajun, leaning against the doorway.

"No, it wasn't for you," she said softly. "It almost killed me that you had to go through that. I'm sorry."

He nodded, hands crossed over his chest as he walked into the room, eyes on the floor, studying it curiously.

"So... Remy go charging in like a big ole' man and get his heart broken, non?"

"Non." She smiled in spite of herself. "Not if I could help it."

He paused in the middle of the room, watching her with those beautiful flaming red eyes. "Curious thing. When I saw you... I didn't just thought I had lost my best friend, Cherie. I had lost you." His voice was oddly choked, and Storm felt her hands clench uncertainly. "Somethin' in here. It die, mon ami."

Her eyes flooded with tears as she stood, "Oh, Remy. I am sorry." Her body seemed trapped in limbo, part of her wanting to wrap her arms around him, the other scared to, unsure.

He swallowed, cocking his head. "So... you love me, eh?"

She snorted slightly, eyes widening in surprise. "What?"

"You love Remy, eh? Ole' manly man too much for you? Couldn't resist, no?"

"What?!"

"Eh. Knew it would happen sooner or later."

"Pardon?"

"Remy is all man, mon ami."

Her eyebrow rose, crossing her arms as she gazed at him evenly. "Listen, you scar faced thief, I would never-" She was cut off when he rapidly crossed the desk, hauled her against him, and pinned her against the wall, bringing his lips down on hers roughly.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but when the kiss continued, she found the arguments turning into a moan, eyes closing when the rough, sandpaper chin glided against hers, when he tongue ventured into her lips, she sighed.

When his hands lightly skimmed a breast, her eyes shot wide open.

"Remy-" the words died in her throat when she saw the intensity in the dark red eyes. Oh God... the stare burned.

"I love you, Stormy," he whispered, fingers cradling her face. "I love you."

Her heart pitter pattered, her chest heaved against him, and Storm realized that it was completely hopeless.

"Remy," she whispered, smiling into his lips, her calf sliding around his to pull him closer. "I am afraid you'll be the death of me."

He chuckled, breath hot and moist against her lips. "I'm counting on it, Cherie. 'Cause there is no other Remy will let you go."

---

"Scott?"

Scott Summers looked up from his desk to find Rogue standing uncertainty in the hallway, head cocked.

"Hey Rogue."

"Kin I talk to you?"

He managed a smile, nodding and motioning to a seat. "Uh.. Sorry about the blast thing..."

Rogue grinned. "Hey... you were protecting the team. Didn't hurt... that much. The fall... that coulda killed me."

She took the seat, crossing her legs and staring at him.

"So... what's up?"

The smile stiffened, and Rogue coughed, her eyes drifting down to the floor as she squirmed uncomfortably. "I um... I don't know how to say this... and for a while I considered not saying anything at all... but I felt... I should tell you... just in case."

The heaviness in her tone struck him, made him lean forward. "What is it, Rogue?"

"I don't want to freak you out, but... I think we should keep an eye on Jean."

His eyebrow quirked and Rogue took a ragged breath, continuing. "It might be nothing but... she's got a dark side inside of her, a spot inside of that she's afraid to touch, to deal with. Augustus saw it, the attraction, the fear. Jean has powers beyond anything we've known. But she knows what comes with it... and she's afraid of it. You have to be careful... We should be careful, because she doesn't want to face and it might come bursting out. Augustus used that... with me... that's how he got me. He had Rogue... he made me Rogue... and he had a name for her. He called her Dark Phoenix."

Scott swallowed, watching as Rogue rose from her chair, offering him a half smile. "I just... it may be nothing, but... I had to tell someone. Take care of her, Scott. Just in case."

And with that, Rogue turned, her back straight, walking out of the room,l eaving Scott only to stare after her.

---

Matchbox Twenty - Bent

If I fall along the way
Pick me up and dust me off
And if I get too tired to make it
Be my breath so I can walk

If I need some other love thing
Give me more than I can stand
When my smile gets old and faded
Wait around I'll smile again

Shouldn't be so complicated
Just hold me and then
Oh, just hold me again

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never get put back together
Keep breaking me in, and this is how we will end
With you and me bent

If I couldn't sleep could you sleep
Could you paint me better off
Could you sympathize with my needs
I know you think I need a lot

I started out clean but I'm jaded
Just phoning it in
Oh just breaking the skin

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never get put back together
Keep breaking me in, and this is how we will end
With you and me bent

Start bending me
It's never enough
I feel all your pieces
Start bending me
Keep bending me until I'm completely broken in

Shouldn't be so complicated
Just touch me and then
Oh just touch me again

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never get put back together
Keep breaking me in, and this is how we will end
With you and me living without understanding

Hell I'll go there again

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never get put back together
Keep breaking me in, and this is how we will end
With you and me bent