Title: Ghostwalking and Dreamscapes

Series: Last Call

Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly there are no original characters in this story. *pouts*

Word Count: 2,617

The mansion is eerily quiet in the early morning hours. In the two weeks since we’d been at the mansion, the only thing that had gone right was continually drinking the Ginger tea that Ororo had whipped up for me. I’d taken to sleeplessness that I had a feeling that was due to the stress level that I was under instead of the pregnancy.

I was getting nowhere with my power controls, and Hank wanted me to get my emotions firmly in check (meaning no more explosions of powers for, like, a week) before I tried to consciously use my powers. I growled and moved toward the kitchens, enhanced senses on full alert. When I decided that no one was around to bother me, I entered. I headed straight for the freezer, digging out a tub of vanilla bean slow churned before grabbing a spoon from the drawer and settling into a chair at the kitchen table.

Two bites in I decided that eating a whole tub of ice cream was not a good midnight snack and even the thought that I could get some much needed calcium didn’t convince me otherwise. I put the lid back on, stuffed the container back into the fridge, and left my spoon in the sink. I was loathe to continue my ghost-walk through the halls and made my way back out to the patio.

When I noticed the temperature around me dropping more than the weather allowed, I struggled to get a grip on the melancholia seeping into my subconscious. I had been outside for approximately 20 minutes when I heard someone rummaging around in the kitchen. With the patio doors closed, I couldn’t smell who it was but stayed unconcerned. I hadn’t moved in minutes and was content to let the individual continue their hunt for food. So I was startled when the door to my right swung open and Emma Frost stepped out.

“Emma, what do you want? I’m not in the mood for this.” I huffed.

She sighed before speaking. “It isn’t my goal to anger you any further. I could sense your struggle with your emotions, and I’m pretty sure that I can help you here.”

I turned to glare at her. “Emma, really. I’m not-” She but me off before I could say anymore.

“Do you want to learn to control your new powers?”

She stopped me pretty dead in my tracks. I was sick of trying so hard and barely managing to control the effects. I really wanted some help here, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to spend lots of Emma-time dealing with her bitchiness and condescending manners. I huffed about it for a moment sitting there in the dark and turning over the possibilities. She really thought she could help me, I could smell it all over her. But that didn’t mean her motives were chaste. She must have been reading my thoughts because she narrowed her eyes at me in a way that wasn’t angry or threatening, just… Emma.

I sighed. “Do you really think you can help?”

She maintained her place leaning against the door frame, as if moving would scare me off. Actually, it was a pretty smart move; because at that point I was very skittish of the whole idea; and any sudden movements very well could have sent me careening over the edge of ‘no’.

“I think that if you had some stable individual there, to help you through your emotions with a calm supportive hand you could lead. The reason I don’t think Logan can help as much as you want him to has to do with the fact that you depend on him to get you to stop the emotional outbursts instead of helping you control them to begin with.”

She still wasn’t moving and I sat for a moment, thinking over what she said. And dammnit if she wasn’t right either. I had been spending so much time putting an end to them, that I hadn’t even thought of preemptive measures. I sighed.

“Fine Emma, we’ll try this you way. If you can teach me how to stop having some of the worst emotional outbursts, then we’ll see what comes after.” I wasn’t fooled for a moment, I knew Emma wanted a crack at teaching me to control the powers at my fingertips. I just wasn’t sure how helpful she was going to be in that department.

“Rogue, I’m sure that I’ll be more than capable at teaching you some techniques in which to calm your raging hormones. Emotions shouldn’t be coddled, they should be kept under firm lock and key at all times.” There it was again, that condescending tone I was committing myself to for unknown hours a day. Was I ready for this?

“Emma, maybe-” Again she cut me off before I had a chance to speak. That’s getting annoying.

“Tut-tut, Rogue. I’ll see you in the morning, say, 10 am sharp? It’ll give you time to get a few glasses of tea in.” I couldn’t quite suppress the urge to growl and it came out low and deep. She seemed to catch herself this time. “Goodnight dear.” And with that she took off through the kitchen doorway.

I sat for a few more hours before Logan noticed I wasn’t in bed. He’d been so exhausted worrying about me for as long as I was worrying about myself that he tended to sleep heavy as a stone. I was just nodding to sleep when he found me on the patio.

“Baby,” he said, lifting me from the chair. I snuggled into his chest. “You really have to stop this. It’s freezing out here. I know you can’t feel it, but it can’t be good for the baby.” He was so worried and I was so tired, but to appease him I managed a weak smile and nod. The clock next to the bed read four am when he finally tucked me into the covers and curled up behind me. I closed my eyes and drifted comfortably into sleep having completely forgotten about my pact with Emma.

“Emma? Are you serious? I thought you said you wanted to do this on your own?” Logan was flustered, confused, angry, and indignant. I knew, had known since before we left the mansion that he didn’t like Emma. And now, his distaste had grown to mountainous proportions.

“Logan, I know you don’t like her, but imagine if she can help me. The sooner I get my emotions under control the sooner I can work on my powers. And after that, we can move back to the cabin. I know I’d rather be there than here, but I want to get these powers under control so that I can do that without fear of hurting you or the baby once it gets here.” I said from my seated position on the mattress.

He faltered then. The things he cared about most, me and the baby, in any type of danger situation he couldn’t control always left him grasping at straws. He narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brows, and stewed for five whole minutes before he huffed and crossed to sit on the bed.

“Fine, but I don’t have to like it.” He practically growled at me. Immediately regretting his tone he frowned and scrubbed a hand over his face. I waited and, although he still smelled like worry, he’d cleared all his features of all outward signs of distress. He wrapped his arms around me and breathed deeply from my hair. After a moment, we rose and left to go meet with Emma.

I met Emma in one of the interrogation rooms designed for helping traumatized children with their powers. It was annoying. I gave her a look when I entered, expressing my annoyance at the idea.

“I figured you would be more comfortable in this type of environment. I’m told it’s very soothing here.” I gritted my teeth and tried to remind myself that I actually needed her help. Maybe. I looked directly into the large mirrored wall and did my best to estimate where Logan was on the other side. Observing. I smiled and hoped I’d done my best not to look severely annoyed.

Emma motioned for me to sit on the loveseat against the far wall, and I thanked God or small mercies that she hadn’t tried to put me in one of the tiny fluffy toddler chairs, or on the floor.

“It’ll be easier if we hold hands, it doesn’t really allow for the connection to be any stronger, but it does give a sense of grounding.” Emma told me, taking both of my hands into hers and trying to smile politely. At least she was attempting to be professional. A part of me still wondered what state of lucidity I’d been in to agree, but the smarter side had seen the logic in it all and over-powered the skeptical part.

“I want you to close your eyes and picture someplace serene. A place where you’ve never been hurt and never felt or done anything that you didn’t want to.”

I took me a while to find this place, there were a lot of time (and by association, places) that I’d been forced to do things that I didn’t want to. Times when I’d done things I’d wanted, but felt awful about them. Times I’d been hurt, or coerced. I settled on a pre-mutation era backyard. I’m only been there once or twice, and was always on my worst behavior while there. But I’d been a kid, and grandma had been keeping me for the summer, and she spoiled me rotten. I’d loved her, and even the fact that she’d died soon after the last time, hadn’t really caused me any pain, because I knew she was safe, and loved and not hurting anymore. All I felt when I thought of her home was relief and satisfaction, happiness that I could bring some light to her later years, even if I hadn’t known of it then.

Emma ruined it by commenting on the weeds. Everything flickered for a moment and then became clear again. I was on a tree swing, the exact age that I am now, but extremely pregnant. I assumed that the baby was already such a presence in my life that I’d manifested it in my subconscious as fully formed, only not yet born because I hadn’t seen it yet.

“You’re very right.” Emma said offhandedly from her place on the nearby yard swing. When I gave her the evil eye she clarified. “We’re in your mind, darling. Every thought rings loud and clear here, like you’re speaking without using your lips.”

“Why didn’t I manifest Logan here?” I wondered. Aloud or not, I couldn’t be sure, but I heard my voice all the same.

“Because he’s not a part of you. I mean, he is, but not in the physical sense. The baby is a part of you right now, an actual extension of your being, so it’s her too. But Logan’s not. He’s another person moving in and around your life but not part of you. The only reason I’m here is because I’m a telepath, remember?”

I shot her an annoyed look but held my calm quite easily.

“Okay, we’re here. What now?” Emma stood and wandered around a bit, thinking before answering my questions. She ran her fingers over some reeds growing near the pond at the edge of the yard. Bent to sniff a rosebush. Caressed the petals of a patch of lilies.

“You really are quite good at recalling details. The smells and textures are perfect.” She told me. I was slightly shocked by her obvious sincerity at the words and tested my sense of smell. She smelled like she was telling the truth. I wondered idly why I could still smell her. “Because we’re still in the same room, sitting on the couch. Everything that we do here exhibits itself in the real world. So it really is imperative that I help you ‘keep your cool’, so to speak.”

Her ridiculous grin and bad pun wiped away the little sentiment that she’d garnered from me thus far.

“So, you still didn’t answer me. What is it that we’re supposed to do here?”

“I’m going to do my best to piss you off. And then we’ll both do our best to keep you calm.” She smirked, the bitch, and I felt a little pissy but tamped it down in an effort of self control. It was surprisingly much easier to do it here, in this dreamscape world. I tossed an annoyed look over my shoulder, where Emma had ventured toward the house.

“Shall we try to make you a little more angry? Hmm… what’s probably the easiest way?”

Images start passing through my mind’s eye. Dark disheveled hair, sheets flying, bright blond locks. The sound of a woman’s moaning easily reaching my ears. I can feel the anger boiling inside me, looking at what I can only call a fantasy, because I know Logan would never sleep with Emma. It’s odd to feel your body temperature dropping and to want to burn something at the same time. The images don’t let up as my anger builds and I’m struggling to maintain some effort control when I start to see cracks in her fantasy.

The hair on his chest is slightly off in shape, the line of hair trailing to his stomach isn’t as tight and defined in reality as it is in her imagination. His skin was just this side of the wrong shade and the breadth of his hips was off by a fraction or so. But mostly, it was his movements, the growling and quick fast motions were all wrong for his body position.

 

Now, admittedly, Logan and I’d only had sex the one time but I’d lived with his memories for a long long time, and I knew every inch of him just as if it was me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, when you live with something for as long as I did, it becomes as much a part of me as it was the parts of their personality.

When a hoarse grunt from the vision in my head caught my ear I did growl. “Knock it off Emma.”

She chuckled and the image disappeared. My anger had been successfully reeled in and I’d barely even noticed. I was beginning to realize that if I thought about another subject, or the way the specific situation affected the rational me, it was surprisingly easy to maintain my perfect outward calm.

“Once more then you think? I’ve got the perfect example… Why don’t I take a lingering little look at those pretty little memories of yours, hmmm?”

I could feel her reaching into my skull with her dirty telepathic hands and I reacted violently. She had settled on the memory of a night this past week (when Logan had massaged every part of my naked body I’d let him) before I managed to kick her out of my head so forcefully that she’d cried out in shock. I pulled myself from my dreamscape and back into reality in time to see her falling off the loveseat.

I stood and looked down at her, sprawled across the floor. The temperature in the room returned to normal almost immediately. Still pissed as hell, but not burning anything down or freezing anyone solid or some other such nonsense, I stepped over her with one last disparaging remark.

“Thanks Emma, I don’t think I’ll be needing your help anymore.”