Chapter Seven: A Glimpse
Professor Xavier looked up from the notes in front of him and automatically opened his mind to the person outside his door; a riot of personalities assaulted his senses, none of them clear enough to get a reading and all of them melding together underneath to give him an unequivocal ‘push’ out. Well, he only knew one mutant with a mind like that.
“Please, come in Rogue.”
The young woman entered with an air of tired apathy; her wet hair pulled away from her face made her look drawn and weary. Why had he not noticed this when he had seen her previously? Perhaps it was her angry, dangerous attitude that made you see only the things she wanted you to see, instead of the truth; a lonely young woman with a troubled past that had tainted her future. A thought occurred to the professor: maybe if she had let down her physical barriers, she would be more open mentally to a discussion about her past.
Xavier smiled and gestured to the chair in front of him for her to sit. He had already arranged for a more comfortable seat to temporarily replace the usual wooden seats he kept, hoping it would help Rogue to relax.
“I hope you enjoyed using our training room, Rogue?”
Rogue shrugged, her guarded expression not changing.
“It was fine. Thanks. What didya want to talk about?”
“Firstly I would like to reiterate what I told you yesterday – you are not here to be drafted into the X-men or to aid us in any way that you do not wish. I simply want to help you.”
A raised eyebrow was his only reply, but even this gave him a little hope – quiet stoicism was better than rage.
“But I thought perhaps we could talk a little about your past, since this would help you to plan your future.”
Rogue shifted a little in her seat; she had noticed the change from hard wooden chair to soft, green leather wingback. She curled her legs under her, staring at him unblinking as she thought. During her sleepless night she had contemplated what she would do during her stay, deciding that to show them the perpetual river of rage she swam in would gain her nothing. These people were ‘nice’ and didn’t tend to respond positively to being shown a glimpse of what it was like to live in the real world. No, instead she would be calm (or as calm as she could be) and relatively polite, get as much information as she could out of baldy and then continue in her search for revenge.
Maybe it was sheer exhaustion that made Rogue change her attitude, from the constant wandering, fighting and half-sleep that made up her existence. Judging by the wheel chair Xavier wasn’t in any position to fight her physically if things degraded that far and her mind was far too complex and bursting with personalities; any telepath trying to invade without her permission would get only a migraine for their efforts (and a punch in the face). She had judged her situation carefully and decided that it wouldn’t do any harm to share the meager information she had on her past.
“If you hafta know, there ain’t much to talk about. I can only remember about ten years back. I reckon I’m about twenty five, far as I can tell. Don’t know who did it or why. Just woke up in a field in Japanese country side, naked as the day I was born and knowin’ about as much. That good enough for ya?”
The professor raised his eyebrows in surprise; he had had no idea her story was so close to their own Wolverine’s. The usual format of ‘regaining consciousness in the wilderness, no clothes, and no memory’ had come to be linked with shady government experiments terminated abruptly.
“Rogue, I had no idea. I’m so sorry to hear that. But you should know; it’s not the first time I’ve heard of occurrences similar to this. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind me telling you this, but Logan went through an experience just like yours, only he found himself in Canada.”
Xavier hesitated, praying his suggestion did not result in a reaction like yesterdays. However, her child-like posture, curled up in her seat, suggested a subtle change in attitude that could well indicate a willingness to co-operate.
“Logan managed to discover much about his past and how he came to be in his current circumstances through a few sessions of meditation whilst I worked with him in lifting the mental barriers…”
The young woman in front of him reacted visibly, although not as violently as he had imagined; her whole body stiffened and her eyes narrowed.
“You want ta poke through my memories, invade my privacy, and get me to let my guard down. How did I know it would come to this?”
“No, not all Rogue – you would be in complete control of the situation, guiding me through your memories and simply letting me help you to work through those that have been hidden from you all these years. I promise you, nothing will happen in this house that you do not want to.”
Again, her reaction surprised him in its lack of anger; she seemed to think about what he had said, seriously considering him through shadowed, weary eyes that belied a lifetime of pain and misery. This was clearly a woman who was not just angry and ‘misunderstood’. Being a telepath had trained him to see beyond what someone wanted him to see and to glimpse a hint of the reality beneath; in Rogue’s case she had simply seen too much and to shield herself against it had become hardened and mistrustful.
“You won’t find much, I’ll tell ya that for free. You think I ain’t tried everything I could think of? Those memories just ain’t there any more. But…”
A pause, as if steeling herself in her resolution to cooperate. This could be her only way of finding out something.
“…if you don’t believe me, take a look.”
The professor smiled encouragingly and sat back in his chair, settling himself as he prepared to enter her mind.
“Thank you Rogue – I know how much this goes against your instincts and you won’t regret putting your trust in me.”
Rogue merely gazed at him, her limbs tense as she waited for him to march into her mind.
It started with the sensation of someone politely standing at the front door, waiting to be let it. She made herself relax the smallest amount, inviting him in. Immediately the full presence of Professor Xavier made himself known throughout her head; moving about here and there as he glanced through the memories she made available for him.
…Waking up into sweltering humidity, staggering through a field of startled farm workers in nothing but her own skin, growling at the closest female and snatching at the loose tunic she wore. The woman screamed as the apparition made off into the distance, newly clothed, groggily trying to assess the situation; where was this, what had happened, who was this? No name came to mind, a head emptied of everything…
The scene switched abruptly into one that had occurred only a short time after the first.
…The newly named Rogue, crouched in the corner of a dingy police cell, desperately trying to assimilate the new, kicking, screaming personality alongside her own; a young man she had touched the arm of, trying to stop him from attacking her. Suddenly it had felt like her whole head was opening up, drawing him in whole as her skin burned where it touched his. What was happening? Why was her mind rapidly filling up with Japanese, with unfamiliar memories, with his panic and fears making hers escalate?...
Xavier clutched the arms of his wheelchair, attempting to sort through the sudden vortex of experiences that she had presented him with, feeling the multiple personalities crowding in the background against mental steel bars that separated them from Rogue. How could someone live like this and not go insane? His unasked question caused images of a screaming young woman, tearing at her hair while she stumbled around an empty room, to appear.
Her quiet, satisfied voice inside his head caused the images to fade back. A part of the professors mind registered surprise at the difference in this calm, well-spoken tone to the normal harsh, uncultured attitude she presented to the outside world.
:: Do you believe me now? There is nothing here that is of any use, I have followed what few leads there were into dead ends.::
Xavier did not reply, centering himself in the midst of her thoughts as he pressed gently against the edges – he could feel something amongst the chaos, something that did not belong there. Delving further he stopped suddenly: a cool, blank wall met his efforts, an unnatural barrier that did not have Rogue’s presence on it. It gave off the feeling of polite refusal, gently turning him away and preventing further passage.
::Rogue, what is this?::
::I…I don’t know…I’ve never felt that before…what is it?::
Her voice was suddenly panicked at this new, unfamiliar feeling in her mind; why had she never found this before? Hours of patient meditation had resulted in nothing, how had he found this in just a few short minutes of searching?
::I’m not sure Rogue, it does not feel like a product of your own mind. I’m going to try and press it away, please brace yourself; it may feel strange and unpleasant, but this is an extremely important discovery.::
Leaning his considerable telepathic influence against the ‘wall’, Xavier concentrated on seeing the barrier dissipate, allowing what was behind it to be released.
Gasping, Rogue cringed in her seat, her whole body closing in on itself.
The sounds of desperate screaming filtered through the Professors concentration, and he hurriedly pulled back out through her mind. As Xavier fell back into his own mind, he realised the screams were coming from Rogue, her eyes tightly shut and hands over her ears as if to stop the agony of the telepathic invasion. Almost as soon as he retreated, the screaming stopped and she opened her eyes, scrambling out of her chair and stumbling towards the door.
“I knew it, as soon as I let my guard down, you attack me! I’m so damn stupid, every time I think it’s gonna be different, that I could let someone in…”
As she yanked open the door there was a flash of metal, Wolverine’s claws forcing Rogue to back into the room again.
“What in the hell is goin’ on here? Half the kids out there are near pissin’ themselves with fright from all the screamin’! Chuck, she do something to you?”
Having barely recovered from the shock of Rogue’s mental ‘secret room’, the evident pain it caused and her sudden attempt to exit, Charles stared at Rogue.
“No, no, of course not – please Logan, lower your hands, there is no need for violence here. I was merely attempting to help Rogue go through some memories, when we encountered…”
Here he trailed off, still staring at her in bewilderment. This was not something that usually happened when one entered someone else’s memories – there were the cluttered remains of small happenings of the recent past, brightly coloured vivid memories, dark clouds of painful emotions and sometimes deliberate blocks of things people didn’t want to think about. But never had he come across something so…man-made, so clinical and yet that the bearer was completely unaware of. Clearly Rogue had been through something or born witness to an event that powerful people did not want her to know about.
“…well, to be perfectly honest, I have no idea what it was we found. You have my most sincere apologies Rogue, I had no idea this would cause you so much pain.”
Rogue was still facing Wolverine, her eyes wide and red-rimmed, face pale and breathing fast and shallow. Her lip curled in a silent growl, warning the man in front of her to move out of her path, as her hand moved deliberately to the wrist of her right glove – a clear signal.
“Then what the fuck were you doing in there? One minute everythin’s normal, next you’re pushing through my head and it felt like you were using a knife to get there. Why did I even let you in?!”
At this last frustrated exclamation, she pushed past Logan and out through the door. She swung round, pausing only to aim a kick at the back of his knee and so causing him to half-collapse on the ground, giving her time to escape.
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