I didn’t get into as much trouble as I thought. In fact, everyone is being nicer to me. But they’re still giving me that damn look. The Professor pretty much ordered me to spend the morning in the Danger Room, so that’s where I am. My palms are sweating inside my leather gloves, and the zipper on my suit is making my throat itch. It is so nerve-wracking waiting for the simulation to start. Luckily, I have Pete, Bobby, and Jubilee in here with me. It’s supposed to be a simple exercise to help us utilize our powers and gain better control. I guess Professor Xavier figures that the best way to help me is to force me into intramural ass-kicking.
It’s really weird to watch the metal room transform into a virtual reality obstacle course. Right now, we’re in a sewer—at least that’s what it looks like. There’s water, to our calves, and it’s rising fast. What the hell is the point of this? This isn’t going to be like Titanic is it?
“We have to find the valve!” Bobby shouts.
“Just freeze it!” Pete hollers back.
“I can’t! We’ll be trapped, and there’s no way to get out!” Duh. Sometimes Pete can be so dense, and I don’t mean that in terms of composition. “And there’s no way to climb up, otherwise I’d freeze it once we were out of the way. Pete, it looks like you’re the only one who’s not gonna drown.”
Wow, we have been in here for less than a minute and Jubilee already broke a sweat. She doesn’t look too good. “Are you okay?”
She’s pressed up against the stone, panting. “Girl, I don’t even go near the swimming pool. This is pure insanity.” She’s scared of water? The Professor had to know that. Why is he putting her through this? It’s one thing to face your fears, but to be traumatized by them? No way.
“Where’s the valve?” Bobby and Pete are staring at me like I just spoke Greek. “Where’s the water coming from? C’mon, don’t look at me like that!” I have no idea why I’m assuming leadership. I must be out of my mind.
“From underground. We’re going to have to look for it. How long can you hold your breath?” Bobby turns in all directions, the water swishing around his thighs.
“No,” Jubilee exclaims. “It’s up there!” She points toward a hub on the ceiling. “This is an aqueduct. A dirty, flooded pipeline.” There’s a long, rust-covered conduit descending along the mucky bricks. It disappears into the swiftly rising water line several feet away.
“How the hell are we supposed to get to that?” Bobby marvels.
“Can you freeze the pipe?” Pete must really like Bobby’s powers.
“It’ll crack. There’s no point.”
“It’s our only option, right now, hot shot,” Jubilee rationalizes, growing more fretful by the minute.
“No, it’s not.” I understand now. This is the reason I’m here. This isn’t practice for Iceman, Jubilee, or Colossus. This is where Marie becomes Rogue. Professor X wants me to practice flight. He wants me to use my strength. I’m the only one who can save us. In all those heroic movies, I would just suddenly be able to fly up there and turn off the water flow with my superhuman muscle, but this isn’t a movie. This is my life, and I’m so scared that I’m paralyzed. How do I even begin to do this? My peers are looking to me for guidance, some kind of miracle. But can I even deliver on my promise?
“Rogue, are you gonna share your plan with us? ‘Cause we’re waist-deep.” Bobby clutches my arm and snaps me out of my stupor of insecurity. I glance at Pete; he has Jubilee propped up on his broad silver-glossed shoulders. If I don’t react soon, even Pete’s 7’5” frame won’t be enough. Purposefully, I toss my shoulders back and take a deep breath. I have to concentrate. “Rogue… Rogue?”
Bobby keeps saying my name, but I zone him out. My eyes are closed and my breathing is steady. I need to think about nothing but my duty. Do I need to hop? Do I need to put my arms up toward the sky? What do I do? Is there a mental switch I have to find? “Rogue!” Ignore him. I can’t break my focus. Carol, I know you’re in there. I need to borrow your power right now. Please, just give me a hint. Please. Please.
I feel it. I feel the twinge in my fingers and toes. I feel the lurch of my stomach. I feel cool air on my cheeks. Tilting my head upward, I open my eyes. The ceiling is coming toward me. No, I’m moving toward the ceiling! I don’t dare look down, because I know I’d lose my grasp. I grab the wheel of the valve, and I feel my weight hit me. It’s gone. I lost my concentration. Focus, Marie. Don’t think about anything else. Just focus. I take a long, thorough look at the water below and I feel my chest tighten. Why did I do that? Just breathe. Stay focused. Trust yourself. I do trust myself. No, I don’t. My hand is slipping. My jaws are clenched shut with dread.
Dammit, Marie! You got yourself into this mess, now get yourself out. I know I can make myself fly, but how am I supposed to keep myself in the air while I get this thing to shut? It’s corroded, and it won’t budge. I know I can move it. If I pummeled Logan, then I can defeat this stupid thing. My arms are getting tired of dangling. I have to decide quickly. Centering my energy, I slowly release my grip on the valve. Please, God, don’t let me spiral to a watery concrete death. I’m hovering. I’m not dead. With all of the might I have left, I take hold of the spigot and push it clockwise. Wow, that was easy.
I feel strange. Something isn’t right. I feel like something is pulling on my skin. The metal. I want to touch the metal. A loud droning digs deep into my ears. Sparks? Where did that come from? My head, it’s pounding. My heart is the same. I can’t get my hand off of the valve. It’s burning, glowing red, and burning. What’s happening? It’s melting. Everything is melting. The simulation is fading. I’m falling, and there’s nothing to stop me. I hit the steel floor, and I feel it cave in. I hear shouting. I hear my name. I see red flashes. There’s fire and ice, too. I see metal sheets tearing themselves from the walls. There’s red everywhere. I hear creaking and searing and blasting and crashing. I can’t stop. I can’t stop any of it. I know it’s me; it’s my fault.
“Rogue!” “Rogue?” “Rogue!” “What happened?” “Are you okay?” “What’s going on?” “Somebody get Hank!” “Professor, what is going on?” “What the hell did you do?” “Is she okay?” “Do something!” “Whoa, she’s ripping the place to shreds!” “Piotr, are you okay? How’s your head?” “Logan, stay out of here! She’s channeling Magneto!” “Get out of my way!” “Oh my…” “What do we do?” “I cannot control it. She needs to be sedated.” “How?” “Bobby, take Pete to the med bay. Everyone out, now!” “I told you this was a bad idea!”
I am screaming. I hear it. I hear their voices. Everyone’s going to be so mad at me. Where are you taking me? Logan? Scott? Professor! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I couldn’t stop it! I can’t do this. I can’t control any of this. I’m not strong enough. I want to die! Please, just let me die! Get away from me! Don’t touch me! I don’t want to do this anymore.
Rogue, I want to help you. I know you can overcome this. No. No. Get out of my head. I don’t want to. I give up! Do you hear me? It’s over. I’m over. Rogue, be at peace. Professor? Please help me! Make this stop. Make this go away. Let me go! Let me…go…
Oh no, not the med lab again. I feel like I have a hangover. This one time, back in New Orleans, I went out with a couple of my roommates and their college friends. We went to a party at some rich kid’s house in the Garden District. We ended up playing Jengameister, and my nerves had me shaking like a wet puppy. Needless to say, Libby, Genevieve, and Libby’s brother had to carry me home. This headache is on par with the one I had then. My throat hurts; I really could use some water. Or, ironically, a good drink. I want to open my eyes and stretch my legs, but I’m afraid of being attacked by questions.
“You awake, kid?” Logan. Why is he here? He’s not the person I want to see right now. I lift one eyelid and peak at him. He is decked out in his usual garb—white tank top, jeans, boots, and dogtags. He looks harmless, really.
“I feel…” My voice sounds hoarse with sleep and exhaustion.
“Like shit?”
“Yes.” His bluntness is so endearing.
“You should. You put up quite the fight.” What does he mean? What even happened to me? “Chuck says that the stress of everything got to you, and you started to manifest all of the mutations you’ve ever absorbed. Way back to Popsicle and Pyro.” Oh my God. I have gone crazy. I could have killed everyone. I’m a fucking monster. “Whoa, kid, there’s nothing to cry about.”
“Ugh, save it, Logan! You don’t know what this fucking feels like. You think I’m fucking pretending. Well, is this good enough for you? Do you see how completely helpless and out-of-control I am?” I hate emotions. At any other point of my life, I would hold back my tears until they made my throat and nose burn. But I can’t. I have just given up on everything. My skin is burning up—it’s the damn leather uniform. “Get this thing off of me!”
I sit up and tug at the zipper. Logan places his hands on my shoulders and forces me to meet his eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
“Too late,” I bark, pulling the metal tag down to my abdomen. I pry the clingy material from my skin. My camisole sticks to my breasts, stomach, and back with sweat.
“Kid, listen to me.” Wow, he’s really got a thick skull doesn’t he?
“Enough! Logan, I’m tired of this. I’m really fucking sick and tired of you. You don’t make any sense! You cross the continent to find me, accidentally stab me, and then save my life. But then you decide you don’t like the fact that I’m not so innocent anymore. So what do you do? You add to my confusion and self-doubt by treating me like a devious hooker. I’m not as scheming as you think, because in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not feeling too hot right now! I don’t know who the fuck I am or what the hell I’m doing! I can’t control anything, and I’m so afraid to even leave my room because I don’t want to hurt anybody!”
“If you’re so dedicated to solitude right now, why do you keep seeking out that damn Cajun?” Oh please, not this again.
“I’m not going to explain myself to you, Logan. Besides, it’s not like I can talk to you anyway!”
He grabs my arms and squeezes possessively. “I’m here, so talk.”
“No! You don’t fucking understand!” His grip tightens, and I feel that stinging pressure of veins swelling. Wait a minute. My skin. It’s bare. His hands are bare. He’s touching me, and there’s nothing happening. “Logan…” He snaps his hands back when I feel the pull creep up. To my horror, he rethinks his decision and touches me again.
“See?” he hisses, averting the pain. “I’m not afraid of you. You need me. I’m the only one who can give this to you. I’m the only one who isn’t going to run!”
I shove him away, and roll off the slab so that it sits between us. “Don’t be stupid! This isn’t a game! Don’t test yourself. I don’t need you to prove anything, Logan.”
“Let me show you that I’m sorry…” he struggles to speak, knees buckling. “You have to see things from my perspective. One minute, you’re just a kid—my companion. The next, you’re a sex goddess. You can’t expect me to ignore it. But it makes me feel sick! I wanted to believe that it really was you, just using Carol as a disguise. But it’s not, and that’s what makes this so hard.”
Cautiously I move around the large metal island and stoop next to him. “This is why I can’t turn to you. I already decided a long time ago that I wasn’t going to put you through that torture. It isn’t fair. Just like it’s not fair for you to demand attention from me.” He looks so weak and innocuous.
“You’re better than him.” Who? Remy?
The depths of Logan’s jealousy hit me like a brick. This isn’t just casual envy. This is deep hatred. Logan wants to own me. Maybe not carnally or romantically, but he wants my soul. My thoughts. My desires. My interests. He wants me to exist only for him. “So are you. But, I will not be your property.”
He turns away from me, his breathing more composed. “You won’t come back.”
What does he mean? There’s only one way to find out. “Logan, touch me.”
“No.”
I lay my hand over his, and he does not contest. His mind rushes into my body. Addiction. Obsession. Hate. Burning. Love. I gasp and fall backwards. The steel door slides open and Storm jogs into the room, out of breath.
She ignores the odd sight before her, and exclaims, “They found Carol! She’s at San Francisco General Hospital.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: The X-men and their likenesses belong to Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox, not me.