The Professor isn't surprised to see me when I slip into his office. He doesn't even look up from his book when I take a seat in one of the leather armchairs.
"How were your classes today Rogue?" he asks me in that oh so calm and lulling voice he has.
"Fine," I say, picking at some non-existent lint on my gloves. "I don't really understand calculus, though. Mr. Summers is a good teacher, but I just don't get it."
I think he almost shrugs. "Calculus is not for everyone." There's a long pause.
"What are you reading?" The Professor looks up from his book for the first time and closes it gently.
"It's simply a text on genetics, but it's not proving very useful." I found out a little after I started living here that the Professor is a professor in actuality. He has about a pile of degrees and has done extensive research in the field of mutation and things related.
"What are you looking for?" He wheels himself to a small table and pours us some coffee. My visits to his office have become a regular occurrence. We never talk about important things, really, just whatever pops into our heads.
"I've wondered for a long time why it is that we each have the gifts our mutations give us. Why are they all different? Why can Bobby create ice while Storm controls the weather? Why am I telepathic and why does Logan heal?" He goes on for a while, but I stop listening to what he's saying and only listen to the rise and fall of his voice. The Professor and I can talk like this now. It started two days after the Statue of Liberty. I still had a chunk of Magneto in me, though the larger chunk of Logan blocked him out almost entirely. I stalked into his office and called him 'Charles' and between growling and cursing in German (a peculiar mix of Magneto and Wolverine if there ever was one) actually managed to have a decent conversation with him.
He doesn't say anything, but I know he knows I'm older than my years now. I know he sees Erik in my eyes sometimes.
I don't know if he knows I was older than my years long before Magneto ever put his bare hands on me.
"Mama, I'll miss you," Marie sniffed as she wrapped her skinny, pre-adolescent arms around her mother's neck. Warm Mississippi sun shone down on their suburban house, glinting off Marie's hair and her mother's eyes.
"I'll only be gone for a few days, sweetie," her mother laughed.
"I'll miss you anyway."
"Oh, I'll miss you too honey." Her father came up behind her and ruffled her hair.
"You and me'll have fun for a few days, sweetheart," he said with a smile. She attached herself to her father's waist as her mother got into the cab.
"Say hi to Aunt Nancy!" she called out. Her mother smiled and waved back. Marie turned to her father.
"What are we gonna do while Mama's gone?" she asked. He smiled down at her.
"Oh, I'm sure we can figure something out."
I'm readjusting my gloves when Logan walks into my room, without knocking, as usual. He flops himself down at my desk and fixes me with a stare.
"You wear those even when you're alone in here?"
I blink.
"Yeah."
"I thought the whole reason The Professor gave you your own room was so that you could actually be comfortable some of the time."
I fidget under his stare and begin to pull them up again.
"I am comfortable." And Logan, being Logan, raises one eyebrow. God, I love that look.
The problem with Logan is -- well, to be honest the problem is with me. I realized when he came back two months ago that I'm not very good at lying to myself. I managed well enough when he wasn't there and wasn't sure when he was coming back, but as soon as he showed up at the door to the mansion, it was pretty impossible to lie to myself.
I can't tell myself that I don't love Logan, especially when he' giving me that look.
It's a look that says, tell me everything and I'll listen. It says, I can see your deepest darkest secrets and I'm only waiting to hear them from you.
I say, "Well are we going to dinner or not?" Logan doesn't like to push me, so he doesn't say anything else about it, but I know, even without my inner-Logan, that he's just filed it away to think and talk about later. Anyone who thinks the Wolverine is all brawn and no brains has some serious surprises coming to them. But even prepared, I won't know how to answer him when he brings it up.
Mostly because I don't know the answer myself.
"Daddy, that's gross." Marie giggled and wrinkled her nose at the burnt something or other her father was holding up. The setting sun cast long shadows around the kitchen, and when Marie looked up, her father's entire face was in shadow while his white polo shirt glowed with bright orange light. "Can we please order pizza?"
Her father sighed.
"Are you sure?"
Marie nodded emphatically.
"Well, alright."
"Thank you, Daddy!" she enthused and jumped into his arms for a hug. As her father called the pizza place, Marie levered herself onto the counter and wiped a few drops of sweat from her brow. Through the open window she could hear the crickets coming out as darkness descended. Her father came back to her side just as the first firefly blinked on.
"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"
"It sure is sweetheart. It sure is."
In the year I've been at the mansion, Bobby and St. John have taught me to play a mean game of foosball. Seriously, if this whole superhero thing doesn't work out, I could make a living as the mutant foosball champion of the world.
It's four o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon, and the gang and I are engaged in our daily foosball match. It's me against Bobby and St. John. Kitty and Jubilee offered to make it even a while back, but I like it better this way. You'd be surprised how close you have to get to a person just to play foosball.
Besides, it's more fair to Bobby and Johnny this way.
The score's 5 to 3 and I'm just getting warmed up when Logan walks by the lounge on some errand or other, probably to talk to the Professor. I know he´s walking by, but I don't look up, because Bobby and Johnny have been practicing harder and are actually keeping me on my toes. And since love lorn gazes at Logan's retreating back tend to result in teasing, my eyes are sticking to the game.
Which is why I almost jump out of my skin when I hear his voice behind me.
"Two against one doesn't seem very fair," he says.
"Shit Logan! You scared the hell outta me." He ignores that.
"You two boys gotta double team her just to win?"
"Win?" I cut in. "I haven't lost a game in three months."
"Why don't we even the odds?" he says with an amused smile.
"I was doing fine by myself," I protest, crossing my arms over my chest.
"The sooner we beat these clowns, the sooner I can take you all into town, which I just got permission from Cyke to do." He says it oh so casually and turns to the foosball table and takes the two defensive positions.
I blink in surprise. Logan is taking me and my loud, giggling friends into town of his own volition? Something can't be right here.
"Hey, are we gonna play or not?" Sure, as soon as you tell me what you've done with the real Logan. I take up my two handles warily.
"Foosball isn't a very badass game," I say softly, waiting for Bobby to drop the ball.
"I don't know what you're talking about,” Logan mumbles, eyes on the little plastic players.
"Be careful."
"I'm not afraid of your skin Marie."
I don't really have anything to say to that.
I've had a few surreal experiences in my life. Being a mutant, that's kind of a given. This definitely rates up there with the most surreal. But it's oddly comforting in a way too. I sneak a glance at Logan and almost giggle. There he is, unlit cigar stuck in his mouth, bent over a foosball table, growling softly in concentration. I think it's something I could get used to. There's the whole proximity issue, but well, that's a given too.
Needless to say, Logan and I make quick work of Bobby and Johnny. My brain turns on again as we walk to the garage, and I begin to get suspicious.
"Logan, what are you doing?" I ask him, letting my friends walk ahead of us.
"Taking you into town." Well gee, why don't we just change your name from Wolverine to Captain Obvious?
"Logan. You hate kids."
"I never said that."
"You don't have to."
"Look -"
"You hate driving the minivan. You think it's a wussy automobile."
"Look, kid, I don't have to explain my actions to you." Typical Logan answer. Sure. Just like you don't need car advice from a girl. I know you're playing at something. Now I just have to figure out what it is.
Marie's father popped his head out of the back door and motioned to Marie. "Come'ere for a second, sweetheart."
Marie looked up at him from her seat on the porch swing where she was reading a book.
"Alright, Daddy." She carefully marked her place and followed him into the living room. He patted the seat beside him on the couch and she took it, leaning into him as he spoke.
"Mama's gonna have to stay with Aunt Nancy for a little while longer."
"Why?"
"Aunt Nancy's pretty sick, sweetie." Marie looked into her father's eyes, her face full of gravity.
"Is she gonna die?"
"I hope not, sweetheart, I hope not." He pulled Marie into his lap and set his chin on her shoulder.
"I don't want Aunt Nancy to die, Daddy."
"I know. No one does."
"I miss Mama."
"I do too. I do too."
What's strange is that I can't remember the dream. I have an uncanny knack for always remembering my nightmares. I only know it's a nightmare because Kitty's come over from her room and is trying to wake me up.
"Rogue. Rogue! Rogue wake up, you're having a nightmare."
I open my eyes and before my brain even starts functioning I'm screaming and scrambling away from her, my skin tingling like mad.
"Don't touch me!" I yell, holding out a gloved hand in front of me. Already people are pouring into my room because of the commotion. I barely register Jubilee, St. John and Bobby, as well as a few teachers beginning to fill up the doorway.
"Don't touch me! Just get away!" I scream. By this time, I'm out of my bed and backing away from the gathering crowd.
"Rogue," Bobby begins, stepping forward.
"Get away from me! Just get away! Get away!" I've backed myself into a corner, and I press against it as far as I can.
"Go away, don't touch me! Don't touch me!" I'll realize how familiar the scene is later, now I'm too hysterical.
"Marie," a voice in front of me says quietly.
"Don't touch me!" I scream. "Don't! Touch! Me!" I throw my hands out as if they'll stop him. He takes them in his own.
"No!" I scream and jerk back, banging my head painfully against the wall. Logan blocks my view of the rest of the room as I slide down the wall, regrettably, still conscious.
"Shh, Marie, it's okay," he says firmly. He kneels down on the floor and takes me in his arms, even though I'm struggling. "Shh, it's okay," he says over and over, stroking my hair.
"Don't touch me," I say weakly, and it's the last coherent thing I manage before I break into uncontrollable sobs.
Waking up is really uncomfortable. My throat is raw, my eyes are swollen. I feel like Sabretooth got a hold of me for a couple of hours. I'm sleeping on the floor. After a few seconds I also realize that I'm sleeping on Logan's chest with his arms wrapped around me, and the day gets considerably better. He wakes up as soon as I stir.
"Hey, kid, how are ya feelin'?" he asks groggily, one hand automatically running down the length of my hair.
"Fuck, Logan, I feel like shit," I say hoarsely. He laughs.
"You had one hell of a night last night." I nod. "You wanna talk about it?"
"I can't remember what it was about," I say, refusing to move from my position, even if it is on the floor. "It was all mine though." I can tell he's a little relieved about that. He feels really guilty that I get his nightmares sometimes.
"You should go down to the medlab later today and get some ice for your head. You banged it pretty good last night. You're getting a bump." I nod again, rubbing my cheek against his t-shirt.
"What time is it?" I ask after a few moments of comfortable silence.
"About 5:30 am." I groan and Logan laughs again. "Why don't you get into your bed, Marie, and then you can go back to sleep."
I sigh dramatically.
"Well, alright." I stand a little unsteadily, one hand on the wall, and one hand braced against Logan. "Ugh, no more sleeping on the floor for me."
"I'm with you there," Logan agrees, stretching like a cat. I tumble into bed and Logan helps me straighten all the covers.
"Logan," I begin, and then hesitate, biting my bottom lip. God this is such a stupid thing to ask. It's so childish. "Will you stay with me? Till I go to sleep?" He looks gentle for a moment when he nods. He sits on the bed, right at my knees, making me scoot them over just a little bit. My mother used to do that and I giggle because I've just compared Logan, the Wolverine, to my mother.
"Something funny Marie?" he asks. I just shake my head, still smiling. My eyelids are already growing heavy. It's not much longer before I'm asleep.
Marie's bare feet barely touched the ground when she sat at the piano. Her legs were covered in scratches and mosquito bites, though not as thoroughly as some of her friends. When she practiced, she swung them slightly in time with the tune she was playing. She had been practicing a lot lately, mostly to get her mind off Aunt Nancy and Mama, so she had most of the piece down except for one part.
She played it very slowly, over and over, until she got it right, then sped it up just a little until she could play that perfectly, then sped it up just a little more. Her finger hit the wrong key again, and she banged her hand against the keys.
"Now sweet heart, what did the piano ever do to you?" her father chuckled behind her.
"This part is really hard," Marie sighed, slumping down and letting her head fall against the music. She felt her father's solid prescience at her back as he leaned over her.
"You've almost got it down. It'll only take a little more practice. Why don't we do it together?"
"Okay." Marie sat up straight again and placed her hands on the keys. Her father slid his hands down her arms until they rested over top of her hands.
"One and two and three and," her father counted off, and then they began to play the music together.
I think Logan and Scott's little testosterone battles are cute. If I could I'd carry a lawn chair around ready to set up whenever they snipped and fought. Despite my bad night last night, I'm in a great mood today. Might have something to do with the way I woke up.
Which is why I can barely stifle a giggle when I see them "facing off" in the hall near Xavier's office. They're practically growling at each other – well, Logan IS growling, and if Scott could growl, he probably would be too.
Logan flicks a glance my way when he senses my prescience and then goes back to locked gazes with Scott. In that one second, I can see his mind whirling behind his eyes. It makes me suspicious again. It's the same look he gave me when he realized I wore my gloves when I was by myself. It's the same look he gave me last night when we got home from town, when Johnny pushed Bobby my way and he almost knocked into me. I was out of his path in under a second and getting as far away as I could, and Logan gave me that look.
It's a look that says, I'm thinking. It's a look that says, I'm gathering evidence to use against you at a later date. It's a look that says, pretty soon, when I've figured it all out, we're going to talk about this.
Yes, one could say I'm wary of that look.
But I'm in a good mood today and I don't want to let it bother me, so I wink at Logan as I pass, and go into the Professor's office for a chat.
"I've been thinking about what you said," I tell him once I've settled in. "About why we each have different mutations."
"Really?" the Professor sips his coffee and then begins erasing the blackboard for his next class.
"I'd like to know why," I tell him softly. "I have my mutation. Is every aspect of it encoded into my DNA? Would it be different if I had done something different, if my parents done something different, if it manifested at a different time?"
The Professor nods.
"It's really an intriguing question," he says. "For instance, we know there are many telepaths and telekinetics, and every one of them is very different from the other, many have animal-like mutations, but such different animals! And some other mutations seem to be quite random."
"I was just thinking that if I knew more about my mutation it would go a long way to helping me control it."
"That could be true." He looks at me with a mixture of pride and pity and something else that I can't quite name. "Unfortunately, not all mutations can be controlled internally. Take Scott. Without his glasses or visor he will always be blind."
"I'd still like to know,' I insist.
"Knowledge is never wasted. If you'd like, I will do everything in my power to help you learn about your mutation. Jean and Hank would be happy to help as well."
I feel tears prickling in my eyes.
"Thank you."
Marie yawned and scratched her head as she padded into the kitchen. There was nothing more relaxing than a summer Saturday morning. Her father was in front of the stove flipping pancakes. Marie immediately perked up.
"You're making my favorite!"
Her father smiled at her over his shoulder.
"Sure am, sweetheart." Marie slid up to his side, her oversized tshirt hanging haphazardly off of one shoulder.
"Can we eat in the den?"
"Well..." her father pretended to think about it for a few seconds. "As long as you don't tell your mother."
"Yeah! Thank you Daddy!" Marie stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek before bouncing around the kitchen getting out plates, silverware, drinks, and syrup. They piled everything onto a tray and carried it into the den.
When they had finished Marie leaned back into the couch with a groan.
"That was sooo good, Daddy. You should make pancakes more often." Her father patted his stomach.
"I'd be too fat if I made them any more often." Marie giggled and drank the last of her milk. Her father chuckled when he saw her face. He reached over and touched her upper lip. "You have a milk mustache sweetheart." Marie wiped it off with the back of her hand and once again fell back against the couch.
"What are you doing today, Daddy?"
"Hmm, well first of all, there's a daughter of mine who hasn't been tickled in a while..." Before Marie could even shriek and jump out of the way her father had pounced, his hands immediately going for her middle. Marie jerked and laughed under her father's hands.
"Stop it!" she laughed, waving her arms ineffectually. Finally she managed to maneuver herself so that she could reach her father's bare foot. He quickly changed position without stopping his assault on her midsection. After a few minutes of struggling and shrieking and laughing, Marie finally managed to scramble away from her father.
"That wasn't fair!" she said between heavy breaths, but she was smiling.
"You've gotta be prepared for those kinds of things, sweetheart," her father said with a smile back. Without another word, Marie leapt across the couch and tackled her father.
"Bet ya weren't prepared for that!" she laughed. Her father laughed right along with her.
"Logan you don't have to come with me." We're in the elevator heading down to the medlab. "We may not even start on the tests today because Jean has to give me a full examination."
"You should have company through this kind of thing kid."
"You probably won't be able to be in the same room when I'm getting my examination."
"I'll be as close as I can. And all that matters is that you know I'm here looking out for you." I discreetly wipe my eyes. I know Logan can probably smell my tears, but there's no reason to get all mushy over it.
"It's just, I know you don't like the lab."
He looks at me and taps his head.
"You get that from in here?"
"Yeah." He looks at me intently.
"Is that one of my characteristics that stuck with you?"
I blush a bit.
"Yeah."
"All the more reason for me to be there with you."
Have I mentioned how much I love Logan? I think this would be a good time for reiteration.
Jean's waiting for us when we step out of the elevator. She raises her eyebrows slightly at Logan's prescience, but only beckons us to follow her down the hall to the lab.
"I'm only going to be doing the preliminaries today, Rogue," she says. "I'll do a complete examination and take a few samples. Most of the research, however, will be left to Hank." I nod. The Professor explained most of it to me. He also told me that he'd be working with me on the psychological aspect of it. Jean points to a chair in what serves as a waiting area for the medlab. "You can wait there, Logan." Logan doesn't look too happy about it, but Jean doesn't give him time to argue. She just hands me scrap of cloth and says, "change into that and we'll get started."
"What's this?" I ask, not moving.
"It's a hospital gown." I unfold it and my eyes must be bugging out of my head.
'I can't wear this!' Jean just blinks at me in genuine confusion. I gape and gesture to the pathetic excuse for covering in my hand. "It's - It's, it's short! And look at these short sleeves! Do you know how much skin this will expose?" I'm very close to babbling now, but Jean just takes my panic in stride.
"Don't worry, Rogue. I'll be completely covered and double gloved, and Logan will be out here. Once we're finished with a few things you can put some gloves on." Jean doesn't seem to understand my problem here.
"But...but..." I splutter hopelessly. I feel Logan come up behind me.
"Give us a minute Jeannie." Jean shrugs.
"I'll meet you in examination room 3, Rogue." As soon as she's gone Logan puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch.
"Marie," he says. "It'll be fine." I don't say anything, just shudder at the thought of putting on the gown. "Marie." He turns me around so that I face him, but I can't look up at his face. "I know it's hard. But, if we're ever going to figure out a way to control your mutation, you gotta do this."
"I know that with my head Logan, I just..."
"Hey, why don't you keep your scarf on, alright?" He gestures to my elbow length gloves. "And keep those on too. When Jeannie needs to poke and prod, just roll 'em down a bit. What do you think?" I let out a shaky breath. If it wouldn't kill him, I could kiss Logan right about now.
"Alright."
"Good. Now come on. The sooner we start this thing, the sooner we can get outta here."
I take a deep breath and swallow. No flimsy piece of cloth is going to defeat the Rogue. I will do this.
With one look back at Logan, I head for the examination room for what promises to be some of the most uncomfortable hours of my life.
Marie woke up to an unkown country song playing softly over the radio. She lifted her head from the passenger side window and looked over at her father in the driver's seat.
"Are we home yet?" she asked. Her father looked over at her and smiled.
"About ten more minutes sweetheart."
"Okay." Now that her window wasn't being used as a pillow, she opened it and let the warm summer air blow in her face. She and her father had spent the day on a picnic, eating from a basket and exploring the woods and river near the meadow. She was exhausted.
When they pulled up in front of the house, Marie got out and opened the back door to help her father carry in some of their things.
"I'll get this sweetheart. You just go up and take a bath. I'll be there to tuck you in in a little bit."
"Thank you Daddy!" Marie ran around to give her father a kiss on the cheek. "And thank you for everything today too!"
"You're welcome sweetheart." He patted her on her hip and ruffled her hair. "Now go up and take your bath."
"Okay!"
I close my door and lean against it with a sigh. What a long day. Every muscle is sore from being so tense, and I can already feel myself getting the mother of all headaches. I reach under my bed and pull out a large shoebox. Time for my patented stress relieving activity. I set out nail files, polish remover, lotions, creams, and several colors of nail polish on my desk before taking off my gloves.
Strange as it may seem, my nails are my biggest vanity. I know, no one ever sees them. But for some reason I'm neurotic about keeping them up. Besides, giving yourself a manicure is a mindless task that takes up all your concentration. Perfect after a hard day. First I remove the dark green polish I have on. I can say one thing for wearing gloves all the time: my nail polish is never chipped. After I wash my hands to get off all the smell, I begin to file. Filing is the best part. I make sure each nail is exactly the same length, exactly the same shape. When I´m filing my nails, I don´t think about examinations, or mutations, or certain unreadable super healers.
It grows dark outside and I turn on my desk lamp. I study my choices of color and finally decide on a dark maroon, to match the shirt I'm wearing today. I'm waiting for it to dry when Logan walks into my room.
"Shit, Logan! You keep scaring me like that, and I'm just gonna drop dead at your feet one day!" Logan doesn't answer me. He's just staring at something in shock. He's staring at my hands. I suddenly feel incredibly exposed. I only barely resist putting them behind my back. "I'm just waiting for them to dry, then I'll put my gloves back on."
"No!" he says. I nearly give myself whiplash turning around to look at him. "Don't put your gloves back on."
"Logan, don't be ridiculous." He's three feet away from me, just staring at my hands. It's enough to drive a girl to self-consciousness.
"Do you always keep them...like that?"
"My nails?" He nods. I shrug. "Yeah. I like when they look nice, even if I'm the only one who sees them."
"I'm glad I got to see them." My heartbeat is speeding up, and if something doesn't happen soon, I'm just gonna break down with proclamations of love. Or kiss him. Neither would go over well, I think.
"Did you want something specific?" I manage to choke out. I feel naked without my gloves. Isn't that nail polish dry yet? Logan sits on the bed and looks at me.
"You don't like people touching you."
I laugh.
"That's pretty obvious isn't it? Considering what happens when they do."
He shakes his head.
"It's not about your skin. Even if you're completely covered, you don't let people get within feet of you."
"Logan what –"
"And the covering thing. It's not just about protecting people from your skin. You don't want people to see your bare skin."
I lean back against the desk.
"What, are you a psychologist now?"
“No, I'm just telling you what I see.”
I sigh. I knew something like this was coming. And I still couldn't do anything to prepare myself for it.
"So?"
"So, I'm just wondering why."
I look at him for a long moment. I can't do this anymore.
"I don't know," I whisper. My hands automatically go to my elbows, trying to hide my bare skin. "Just the thought of leaving skin exposed..." I shiver again.
Logan stands and walk towards me.
"Do you mind me...?" He's so tentative all of the sudden. So gentle and concerned that my heart nearly breaks right there.
"No, you're...you're not as bad as everyone else. You're okay." I give him a weak smile. "Maybe it's because I've had you in my head so long." He comes and stands right next to me and deliberately puts his arm around my shoulders.
"I want you to be comfortable around me, Marie. I want to see all the hard work you do on your nails."
"Logan..."
"However long it takes, okay Marie?"
I can feel my throat swelling up and I blink back tears.
"Okay."
Marie put on the shorts and tshirt she wore to bed and picked up her brush from between the scattered bottles of nail polish on her dresser. While she was brushing out the tangles, her father stopped at the door.
"You ready for bed, sweetheart?"
"Almost, Daddy. I just need to finish brushing my hair." Her father came up behind her and took the brush from her hand. Slowly and carefully, without any pulling, her father brushed through the rest of her hair for her.
"Now it's time to go to bed." Marie smiled.
"Okay." Marie hopped into bed and pulled the sheet up around her. Her father tucked it in around her shoulders and brushed his hand across her face. He placed a kiss on her lips.
"Good night sweetheart," he said softly.
"Night Daddy," she murmured sleepily. Her father walked out of the room, turning off the light as he went. Within minutes, Marie was fast asleep.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Rogue. This is not a big deal.
Except it is.
I'm sitting in one of the Professor's big comfy chairs fidgeting like crazy. Logan is looking at me intently, making sure I'm okay. He might be more nervous about this than I am. Maybe.
Here's why I'm sitting here being a nervous wreck. Hank and Jean have done some extensive looking at my genes. I don't understand a lot of the technical babble, but the bottom line is that they can't find and/or isolate the specifics of my mutation. Meaning that while they can tell my mutation has to do with skin, there's nothing to suggest that the whole life-sucking thing is actually encoded in my DNA.
So now the Professor's getting ready to see what he can pull from my brain. The girl who doesn't like people to see her bare arms is about to get a person rummaging about in her mind. I trust the Professor completely of course. But that does nothing to relieve my nerves.
"Are you ready, Rogue?" This is fine. I can do this.
"Yeah."
"Just let your mind relax. You don't have to do anything." He narrows his eyes, and I feel like my forehead is tingling, which means that he's started.
Suddenly my knuckles start to itch and I have an intense craving for a beer. My eyes widen and I want to say something, but when I open my mouth,
"Machen sie das nichts mehr, Charles." Out of the corner of my eye I see Logan jump out of his chair. "Sie verletzen ihr mehr, damit,”"the Erik in my head says. The tingling behind my forehead stops and the need for a beer is gone. Erik is back where he belongs. From the look on the Professor's face, this isn't a good development.
"What the hell was that, Chuck?" Logan explodes.
"I'm not quite sure," the Professor says, almost to himself.
"That's it. This is not a good idea!" I'm too shocked to do anything but watch him pace around the room.
"As soon as I got into your mind, Rogue," the Professor says to me as if Logan hadn't spoken, "Logan and Erik stopped me." I nod. Never, ever, have both Logan and Erik been so strong at the same time. Never, ever, have they ever worked together, even inside my head.
"I'm concerned. The personalities you have in your head act much like the alter-personalities of patients with multiple personality disorder. Alter personalities are often created to protect the patient from a life threatening trauma, and surface when that protection is threatened. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"You're saying that the Logan and Erik in my head are trying to keep you out because of some of some kind of trauma I had in my past?" I look at Logan, still pacing, and back to the professor. "I don't remember anything that could..." The Professor nods.
"That would be exactly what they're trying to protect you from. Remembering." I'm too shocked to do anything, to think anything. Of all things, I didn't even think about something like this happening. I rub my arms absently and make sure the tops of my gloves are tight around my upper arms.
"So what do we do now?"
"That is up to you, Rogue." Logan stops in front of me.
"You don't have to do anything, Marie," he says quietly. "You definitely don't need to do it now."
I swallow.
"I know." I look back up to the Professor. "Could it be the cause of my mutation?"
"It's a possibility," the Professor says reluctantly. He looks really worried.
"I can keep Logan and Erik in check."
"Rogue-"
"I'm gonna have to find out sooner or later anyway. Let's do it now. I need to know."
"If that's what you want," the Professor allows, but he still looks really worried.
"It is," I say firmly. Logan doesn't say anything. He just pulls his chair up right next to mine. I take a deep breath and hold out my gloved hand. He takes it one of his own and squeezes. I look the Professor in the eye. "Let's do it."
The Professor narrows his eyes.
Marie awoke with a start and sat up in bed. Her nightmare was already fading, and that was okay with her. She looked around her darkened bedroom and tried to calm herself down. After a few minutes she got up and walked down the hall to her parent's bedroom.
"Daddy?" she said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"Sweetheart, what's the matter?" her father asked groggily.
"I had a nightmare. I can't go back to sleep."
Her father sat up and rubbed her back a little bit.
"Do you remember any of it?" he asked. Marie shook her head. "Come on." He took Marie's hand and led her back to her room. He sat down on her bed and patted the space next to him. "Come 'ere, and I'll sleep with you to keep the nightmares away."
"Okay." She climbed into bed and curled up with her back to her father's chest. He slowly rubbed her stomach to relax her and she was almost asleep when she said,
"Daddy, there's-"
"Shh sweetheart," her father said. His hand slipped underneath her t-shirt and rubbed her bare stomach.
"But Daddy-"
"I said hush. Just relax, sweetheart. Don't say a word." His hand slipped from her stomach to her just budding breasts and began to rub harder. Marie choked back a sob and felt the poke in her back become more insistent. After a few minutes her father gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him.
"Just don't say anything, sweetheart. Shh." He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, his hands rubbing all over her body. Wherever his hands went her skin tingled painfully.
When he discarded her shorts and panties, she only let a single tear roll down her face.
Someone's moaning. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize that it's me. My skin is on fire all over my body.
"No!"I manage to get out. I stand up quickly and rip my hand from Logan's grasp. I have to move but I trip over things in the office because my eyes are closed.
"Marie." Logan is behind me.
"Don't touch me!" My voice is hoarse. I open my eyes and stumble away from Logan until I'm against the back wall. "It hurts," I choke out. "Oh god, don't touch me!" I wrap my arms around myself and close my eyes.
"What is it?" Logan growls. "What the hell is it?" The Professor doesn't say anything but he must do something telepathically because the next thing I hear is the *snikt* of Logan's claws popping out and the sound of a big leather chair being destroyed.
Then there's a thump of someone falling to their knees and Logan is sobbing. Tears leak out of my eyes because Logan is sobbing, and he can't ever remember crying before, and that means that it actually happened.
When I open my eyes and look at the Professor, tears are running his down his face.
Marie was sitting at the window when the cab pulled up, and she was out of the door and jumping off the porch by the time her mother opened the door.
"Mama!" Her mother was nearly knocked back by the force of Marie throwing herself into the hug. She buried her face in her mother's dress and squeezed as hard as she could.
"Hello, darling."
"I missed you so much, Mama!"
"I can tell!"
"I'm so glad you're back!"
"Why don't you let me get my bags, and we can go inside, okay?" Marie reluctantly let go of her mother and stepped back.
"Okay." As she got her bags out of the trunk and paid the cabbie, Marie's mother chatted about her visit to her sister and the trip back. She looped an arm around Marie's shoulder as she started towards the house.
"Have you been practicing your piano?" Marie nodded. "So what did you do with your father? Did you two have a good time?" Marie looked at the ground and bit her bottom lip.
"Yeah. Yeah, we had a good time," she answered softly.
There's a knock on my door and Scott steps in. He'´s carrying a tray with food that he knows I probably won't eat. He smiles at me and sets it on my bedside table.
"Now I at least want to see some that food gone when I come back," he says. "None of my future X-Men are allowed to waste away from lack of food." He gives me a big brotherly stern glance, but drops it when he sees it won't do any good. "I hope you feel better, Rogue."
All is silent in my room once again.
When all hell broke loose, Jean came running to the Professor's office. Not even the strongest shields could keep out me, Logan, and the Professor combined. She's the only one who knows that I don't have the flu, or whatever she and the Professor decided to tell everyone. She's the one who coaxed me up to my room from the Professor's office, because I wouldn't let her touch me.
I remember her on the day of my preliminary examination, after she had finished the gynelogical part.
"Well Rogue," she said. "Your hymen is broken, but that can happen any number of ways during childhood. You're perfectly healthy."
I've been in my room ever since Jean got me up here. She managed to convince me to shower once, but mostly I just stay underneath the covers. I keep my gloves and scarf, and socks on at all times. Sometimes my skin tingles so much it hurts.
I haven't cried since I've been up here. I prefer not to think. Logan and Erik skulk around in the back of my mind but aren't very loud. I try to block them out as much as I can.
I'm just existing up here.
I don't know what comes next.
Marie's mother looked down at her daughter and shook her head in confusion.
"Marie darling, it's only for two days. Aunt Nancy needs to go to the doctor and wants me to come with her."
Marie just hugged her mother tighter.
"Please don't go Mama. Please don't go."
"Marie, this is not open for discussion. I'll see you in two days." Marie watched her mother get in the cab. When it turned the corner at the end of the street she felt a lump of dread in her stomach. She walked slowly across the porch and into the house.
"Daddy?" She called out.
"In the kitchen, sweetheart!" Marie leaned on the doorway and poked her head into the kitchen where her father was at the table reading the newspaper.
"Can I sleep over at Emily's house tonight?" Her father didn't look up from the paper.
"No."
"Why not? She-"
"I said no, sweetheart."
"But-" He looked up from the paper, directly into her eyes.
"No, sweetheart. Hush."
Marie felt tears prick her eyes and quickly left the room before her father could see them.
It's been five days. I may not know what comes next, but I know something has to come next. I get out of bed, strip out of my sweaty and filthy clothes, and take a shower.
The last time I saw Logan, he was sobbing his heart out on the Professor's office floor. He hasn't visited me the entire time I've been in my room. And because something has to come next, I'm going to find out why.
I want to dress normally. The funny thing is, I can't really remember what was normal before all the shit hit the fan. Well, I'm nothing if not stubborn. I choose a short sleeve blouse and the longest gloves I own. Jeans, boots, scarf. Just another day.
I carefully blow dry my hair and put on a little make up. I stare hard at my face in the mirror until I realize I'm looking for wrinkles. I feel about 200 years old.
As I'm heading out of the room, I see the tray that Scott left this morning on my bedside table. I sit down on my bed and eat a bagel. Scott's been so great, always bringing my meals and making sure I have what I need. I promise myself that one day I'll give him a hug.
It's not lunch time yet, so I have no idea where Logan will be. The Professor probably knows, but instead of asking him, I head for the rec room. If Logan isn't there, one of the kids in free period will know where he is.
As soon as I walk into the room, a huge squeal fills my ears, and I see a streak of yellow heading towards me.
"Oh my god! Rogue babe! How are you?" Jubilee stops short about two feet from me and almost falls over. I muster up a smile to give to her.
"I'm feeling better thanks."
"Girlfriend, have we been worried about you! Bobby was nearly apoplectic when Dr. Grey wouldn't let anyone visit you. So were you that contagious?"
"You really didn't want to visit." I forestall her next comment with a raise of my hand. "Hey Jubes, have you seen Logan around anywhere? I need to talk to him."
"He's been really weird since you've been sick," Jubilee confides. "I think he's in the garage."
"Thanks a lot. I don't know if I'll be down for lunch, but if I am, I'll find you."
"Alright babe, see you later!"
As I head towards the garage, I feel a bit more like myself. I am Rogue on a mission.
David was a good boyfriend. Marie didn't know many boys who would keep dating a girl after two months going by with not even a kiss.
When she explained her cross country adventure to him, she imagined it all in her mind. She imagined living in Alaska where it was cold most of the year, instead of hot like in Mississippi. She imagined herself bundled up in gloves and scarves and a coat with a hood. When she saw herself living in Alaska, the only skin she saw on herself was the skin on her face.
"When are you gonna do this?" David asked her. She shrugged.
"I don't know. After high school...before college." She wished she could do it now. She was imagining what it would be like to be able to pick up and go right at that moment, so she didn't notice that David was leaning in for a kiss. By the time she did notice, there wasn't much she could do about it, even if she had wanted to. It's only a kiss, she thought to herself. What are you so worried about?
But she was worried because her skin had started to tingle. And when David placed his mouth on hers, the tingle turned into a roar.
Sure enough, Logan is in the garage. He's working on some bike or another and either he's concentrating really hard or there's just a lot of gasoline in his nose, because I surprise him when I say, "Do you think I'm disgusting?"
He jumps up and turns around with a scowl on his face.
"Jesus, Marie, you scared me half to death."
I smile just a little.
"It's karma." He looks real fidgety and nervous, and that makes me nervous too.
"So do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Think I'm disgusting?" He looks up in surprise and I look down at my feet, because I'm afraid of the answer in his eyes.
"Marie, why would I ever think you, of all people, are disgusting?"
"I think I'm disgusting," I say softly.
"Hey." He walks up to me and stands only inches away. He goes to touch me but stops. "Look at me Marie." I look up at him but I can't read anything on his face. "Marie, what was done to you was disgusting. God, if I could kill him, I would. But you, none of this is your fault. You're the innocent one, and I could never find you disgusting."
I want to say, I'm not so innocent anymore, everyone saw to that. Logan steps away from me and begins to fiddle with the bike again.
"Then why were you avoiding me? Why didn't you come and see me?" He doesn't look at me when he answers.
"You didn't exactly seem like you wanted company, kid."
I crouch down by him.
"I wouldn't have minded your company. I always want your company."
He sits back on his heels and looks at me with concern.
"Look kid, what happened to you - I - it's just ... you ... you..." His face is almost pure anguish now, and suddenly the answer pops into my head.
"You're not like him." He shakes his head.
"Marie, you're so young and I -god!" Tears begin to well up in my eyes and I don't bother to stop them.
"Logan, listen to me! You are nothing like him! He fucked up my life and you, you saved it. You've saved me so many times..." He looks down at the garage floor, refusing to meet my eyes.
"When I think about-" I screw up my courage and grab his upper arms. He's so surprised he stops what he's saying and just looks at my hands on his arms.
"Please Logan," I say, and I can't keep the sobs from my voice. "Just thinking about anyone touching me, I can't..." I try to steady my voice. "But you can be near me, and touch me, and I don't mind, and if - if you leave me then there's no one. There's no one! Please," I murmur through my sobs. "Please."
Then he's hugging me so tightly I can barely breathe. But that's okay, because I'm hanging onto him just as tightly, and for the first time in a long time I think: Yeah, maybe things will work out.
It's a few weeks later and I'm sitting on Logan's bed doing homework. I started school again a couple of days ago. The Professor is trying to get in touch with a psychologist used to working with mutants. I've realized what comes next.
I look up from my book to see Logan staring at me intently from his desk chair.
"What?" I ask, and I can feel my face getting hot.
"I was just thinking." He gets up and sits next to me on the bed.
"Oh yeah? What were you thinking?"
"I wish I could touch you and everything would be better. I wish I could heal you." I smile at him and grab his hand.
"You are healing me.'
Living. Living is what comes next. And I think I can handle that.
93% of juvenile sexual assault victims knew their attacker; 34.2% were family members and 58.7% acquaintances. Only seven percent of the perpetrators were strangers to the victim. -Bureau of Justice Statistics, 2000
For more information on rape, sexual assault, and incest, the RAINN (rape, abuse, and incest national network) webpage can be found at www.rainn.org. The National Sexual Assault Hotline can be reached at 1-800-656-HOPE (4673) It's free, it's confidential, it's always open. -------------------------
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Story Notes:
ll my thanks go to Jenn for encouragement, beta-ing, and general coolness. Warning: This story contains adult themes and things which one might find disturbing. Definitely not for kids.