Nightmares for Rogue were complicated. It was a simple fact that was problematic for her. There were different strains of nightmare life that could scurry through her brain like a crowded train terminal. There were the nightmares of those she had touched in the past, most particularly Logan and Magneto. There were her own nightmares that were a life all on their own, a blend of suppressed memories, fears and the destiny that hovered around her.
Sighing heavily she dropped onto the big leather couch and glanced in mild amusement at the new plaster and brick work of the wall she had previously created an exit through. Dangling the bottle of Jack Daniels from her fingers she stretched out on the couch and glanced up at the ceiling, hoping to find some semblance of relaxation that had a habit of evading her so often.
She was afraid to close her eyes. Afraid of what her mind and subconscious would come up with next. Rubbing her forehead she sipped at the bottle and tried to forget the book in her jacket pocket. She could feel the diary resting over her heart like a medieval shield but instead of protecting her, she found it felt like a noose tightening around her very essence.
She wondered why Mystique had given it back to her to hold on to. The other mutant had an unnatural obsession with the books. She on the other hand was just curious, but cautiously curious. In her own way Mystique was trying to show her, that she trusted her but she wondered how long that would last.
Remy asked her what made her a believer but she wasn’t so sure she was one. Her ties to the search of the books came down to the fact that family was concerned. She’d been raised in part by the mutant Destiny known as Irene Adler and though her memories were vague she wondered how important she had been.
She wanted to ignore the notion of prophecies and the fate of humanity but there was something that tugged at her soul that told her, her refusal would cost her. She could already feel it haunting her and it had haunted her since Mystique had brought the Books of Truth up.
She knew that originally there had been at least eight diaries filled with Destiny’s prophecies, conceived since the time her mutation had manifested and she’d lost her physical sight only to gain a more supernatural one. They’d been lost or destroyed over time; stolen by those who wished to understand their power but failed.
Mystique had only a few pages left from what had been the fourth diary in her possession and Rogue had made the mistake of trying to read them. The words at first had not made any sense to her, ramblings of what she considered an unstable woman and yet something had stuck in her mind because images haunted her, images she’d never thought of until she’d unlocked some kind of power inside of her in partaking in a small piece of Destiny’s words.
The dreams didn’t come to Mystique. She asked once and although she tried to hide it, the other mutant knew she was experiencing them herself and somehow that made Mystique only more ambitious in gaining them all back in her possession. She said it was her duty to protect them and she believed her despite her concerns because one thing she remembered most of all from her childhood was that she felt loved once by the two mutants and she knew that they had loved each other.
Closing her eyes she tried to concentrate, tried to call up a forgotten memory of her own. Tried to call back that warmth and safety she must have felt as a child. She felt her body become lighter and her mind turned hazy as bright images danced behind her eyelids slowly and unobtrusively.
She could see an older woman with short dark hair who smiled at her often and whose face was always open towards her despite the dark sunglasses she always wore. The warm sun beamed behind the woman known as Irene Adler and created an effortless glow around her body as she stood within the garden and nodded in her direction.
“Marie,” Irene whispered softly. “Come here, my little Marie,” she called again.
Irene stepped closer and closer towards her and she felt a calmness spread throughout her. Irene opened her arms wide and moved to hug her and she leapt up, eager for the touch and familiarity.
But suddenly Irene’s form became too big and the brightness of the sun disappeared as she felt threatened by the impending shadow. She felt like she was about to be suffocated and she screamed, “No!”
Waking up with a start Rogue pushed up and out towards the shadow that loomed over her. A loud crash followed.
“Shit,” she heard a muffled voice from behind the couch.
Quickly, realizing her mistake, Rogue glanced over the couch and her eyes widen immediately. The cobwebs of her brief dream disappeared at the scene before her.
“Logan!” she exclaimed and jumped off the couch.
Hurrying across the room, feeling sudden shame that she’d thrown him so far and into the wall, where she could she a new formed dent.
“Jesus, kid,” he muttered as he started to stumble to his feet.
Nervous and surprised she didn’t think about it as she moved to help him up.
“I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “I am- it’s just...” she trailed off and looked away. “You really need to be careful Logan; you shouldn’t sneak up on me like that when I’m asleep.”
“No kidding,” he muttered and cracked his neck as everything seemed to be in order.
His hand was resting on her back, still left over from when she’d helped him up but he didn’t appear in a hurry to remove his touch.
“I guess we’re even now,” he added with a small rough chuckle.
She frowned. “It’s not funny, Logan.”
“No it’s not,” he replied. “I didn’t think it was funny when I put my claws through your chest either, but you have to admit there is some irony in this.”
“I guess,” she muttered and slipped out of his grip.
Rubbing her arms self-consciously she walked back around and sat on the couch.
“I’m sorry,” he spoke up after a moment, not moving behind her. “I shouldn’t have bothered you; you actually looked peaceful for a moment.”
Her gloved hand trailed up and brushed against her cheek as she tried to recall a mother’s touch.
“It’s alright,” she whispered heavily.
Taking a deep breath she tried to push everything behind her again and she began to focus on the reason Logan was presently in her company, after she’d bluntly told him to buzz off. She knew he was stubborn and oddly even though she wasn’t annoyed by his presence she was exasperated that clearly he wasn’t backing down.
“I figured I should let you know that Storm called and we’re going to hit Graydon’s in an hour or so. Security is a bit more uptight during the night shift but there will be a less chance of having any civilians get in the way.”
She nodded slowly as he sat down across from her.
“That sounds best,” she muttered.
She leant back against the couch and felt worn out all of a sudden, the past few events finally taking their toll on her and she glanced at Logan who was watching her and she found she didn’t want to pretend anymore, he knew she was making an effort to appear a certain way and it was all in vain where he was concerned, he seemed to see right through her.
“What do you think makes a man like Graydon hate mutants so much?” he spoke up suddenly, his eyes darting around the room, a frown of disgust on his face at the decor, his nose twitching amusingly but she was more entertained by his attempt at being a conservationist.
Her eyes widen and when she saw that he was serious she couldn’t help it as she burst out into laughter.
“What?” he snarled, as though he thought she was making fun of him.
“It’s not you,” she waved him off as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “It’s just you really don’t have any idea, do you?”
He gave her a questioning look. “I think I’ve admitted that Rogue,” he stressed her name again, a sign of remarkable restraint. “I’ve been asking questions since you landed in the shed.”
“You’ve asked too big of questions, Logan,” she replied seriously.
His eyes narrowed and he appeared to comprehend what she meant but he still sat back with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know what to ask of you anymore that won’t push you away farther.”
Her fingers twitched nervously over her thighs as she was shocked by his admission.
“I suppose that’s fair,” she whispered.
Tapping her knees she stood up suddenly and started to pace.
“Sometimes the simple moment of birth, defines who people will be. Mutant, non-mutant,” she rambled for a moment but Logan remained quiet.
“Graydon hates mutants because he got the short straw.”
She turned back to glance at Logan but he remained quiet.
“I guess you only remember his father by the name the X-Men know him as.”
He still remained quiet but his gaze deepened with a blend of interest and confusion.
Walking towards the back of the couch she tapped her fingers against it.
“Who do you mean, Rogue?” he growled through his teeth.
She smirked. “Graydon Creed is the son of one Victor Creed.”
She waited a beat but she saw no recognition in his eyes.
“Victor Creed who was last known as Sabretooth and was working for the Brotherhood.”
Logan’s eyes widened in response on cue and she nodded rigidly and stepped back as she paced again.
“You can’t be serious?”
“I’ve tried to tell you before Logan, I haven’t really been lying to you.” She turned around and made a little space between her thumb and forefinger. “It’s the things I’m leaving out that have you confused.”
“I know,” he growled low and he glared at her for a moment.
“It gets better though,” she began again. “Graydon Creed is not only the son of Sabretooth but also,” she paused and stared at him. “Mystique.”
“What?” he bellowed as he stood up immediately.
His eyes darted around the room as he sorted through the new information and his hand ran through his hair absently but she knew the question was coming and she didn’t have to see the conclusion in his eyes, so she turned back around.
“Then-then he’s your brother as well,” he whispered.
Biting her lower lip, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she faced him again.
“That’s not exactly true.”
“What?” he blurted out again.
Moving back around the room she sat back down on the couch and waited for him to sit back down again. His hazel eyes took a few seconds to settle as his legs stiffly buckled and he sat down.
“I’m not biologically related to Graydon.”
“Is..is Sabretooth your father?” he blurted out again and she could tell he was suddenly on edge, the implications spinning around behind his eyes, she knew she was losing his focus.
“No,” she snapped back. “Dear God no.”
He appeared to relax a little at her answer.
“Logan,” she began and shifted forward. “I did kind of lie about something before.”
Licking her lips she glanced down at the table between them. “Mystique was my step-mother.”
His eyes ticked but he remained silent. She sighed and tried to think of what to say next. There was no need to explain why she’d said Mystique was her mother and made him believe it was by blood, it was all about a little self-hate on her part.
“She raised me with another woman,” she began softly and her eyes became distracted. “A mutant named, Destiny. I’m not entirely sure from how young of an age but I believe I was in their care until I was about six.”
“I don’t know who my real parents are; for a long time I thought the parents I’d left behind in Meridian were my real family.”
“Why didn’t you know?” he asked and the softness in his voice startled her.
She looked up at him and gave him a tight smile and she didn’t pretend she didn’t see the worry in his eyes.
“My memories were altered somehow, so that I would forget and I’d been so young.”
“Do you know why?”
“I was told it had been for my protection.”
“I’m sorry, Marie.”
She shook her head and smiled at him. “Knowing your past Logan isn’t as great as you seem to think it is.”
Leaning forward over the table he focused on her. “You’re not like her, Marie.”
She bit her bottom lip and kept the tears back. “I’m a mosaic of people Logan.”
He shook his head sharply. “You adapt, Rogue. The person who you feel is you, who you define as Marie, will always be in there and you were that woman long before you even knew about Mystique.”
She nodded again and glanced at her gloved hands. “She saved my life, Logan. She was my mother once, I can’t ignore that.”
“She also handed you over to Magneto, what kind of mother does that?” he replied as his voice rose in anger.
“I can’t make you understand this, Logan,” she whispered. “But-I appreciate what you said. I don’t define myself by Mystique but there are ties you don’t know of.”
“Then make me understand, damnit!” he snapped. “You sound like you’ve given up on something.”
She rubbed her hands together and knew he was right. She’d given up hoping she belonged in his world.
“Do you want me to be an X-Men, is that it, Logan?”
“You were an X-Men.”
She smirked at him and raised her head. “Yes, I was.”
Slowly, she pulled one glove off and glanced at her pale skin. Logan didn’t pull back and he didn’t act afraid and although she always appreciated that about him, her skin was always an issue for her.
“Xavier always said I had a bright future.”
“Did you know that he and I use to have private meetings all the time, he’d invite me into his study and he’d talk with me and debate with me about the classics of literature or play a game of chess with me and all along I thought it was because he truly cared, because he truly believed I was like all his other X-Men,” she paused and her stare turned harsh. “But he did it all because he was afraid.”
“Everything he ever did for me was out of fear.”
“Fear that I would take up another cause other than his. Fear that one day I wouldn’t be afraid of my skin and my power. Afraid I would leave where he couldn’t watch over me, because that is what he did every day while I thought he was trying to be my friend, my saviour,” she spat.
“I believe in the dream, Logan, but I won’t ever believe in the man, the man that I knew.”
Logan didn’t contradict her and she slipped her glove back on.
“Why was he afraid?”
“Aren’t you?” she retorted. “Weren’t you afraid I was Brotherhood?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“No, no I suppose not in the same, you never feared my power.”
“You’re skin was never an issue for me.”
“I know,” she replied. “But you’re missing the point. Xavier believed I was part of something bigger than his X-Men.”
“Like what?”
She reached into her jacket and pulled the small diary out and threw it on the table between them. The thud of the book hitting the table sounded much louder to her ears.
“Xavier wasn’t a man who could ignore the calling of power anymore than Magneto.”
Reaching forward Logan grazed the front of the cover. “Go on,” she instructed. “You can look at it; it really isn’t much on its own.”
“What is it?” he asked as he opened it.
“I told you before Logan; it’s a book of prophecies.”
His eyebrow rose up at her from behind the book and placed it in his lap.
“Xavier was a man of science but there’s a reason he was interested in that book. It was written by a mutant with the power of foresight.”
“He thought that it might be true then,” he gasped in surprise.
She nodded and stood up as she started to pace again.
“There were eight books once, but they were destroyed over time, some by the mutant herself, fearing the danger of them falling into the wrong hands. Only three intact copies remain. Each diary by itself doesn’t make much sense but if you have more than one, it is said that you can trace the patterns of thought together.”
“And Mystique wants them,” he muttered to himself. “And you’re helping her get them, aren’t you,” he demanded suddenly.
“Yes, Logan I am,” she replied confidently. “Because she has a right to them, where Xavier did not. He never told anyone about it, why do you think that is?”
He stood up and held the book in his hand. “You said you had a right to this.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“Rogue,” he growled in warning.
“The books were written by a mutant named Destiny, Logan. The woman also known as Irene Adler, who was once my step-mother and who was for a very long time Mystique’s lover. Destiny left them for Mystique to protect when she died.”
When Logan appeared speechless she carried on. “So you can see why I might harbor some hard feelings towards Xavier because Logan,” she paused and continued on carefully, making sure she had his full attention. “Just like Xavier kept things from you about your past and just like he kept the Phoenix from all of us and Jean, he kept my past from me. He knew and he never told me.”
Logan opened the book again and looked up at her in agitation. “It’s just a bunch of scribbles. Why would he hide all of that?”
She shrugged. “To harness the power of the future is to understand Destiny’s words and I believe Xavier like you as well, did not have the gift to achieve such a notion.”
“We’ll know for sure with you whether or not the pages have impacted you in anyway if the dreams come,” she whispered.
Stepping closer she tentatively grabbed the book from his hand and he let her slip it away from his grip.
“Do you..?” he whispered in awe.
“The dreams never stop,” she replied back quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I believe in it.”
“Xavier thought I had some role to play in these Books of Truth but he and I differ on one thing, I will not let a prophecy dictate who I am meant to be.”
“That bastard,” Logan seethed and she looked at him in surprise.
“It’s alright, Logan. I’ve come to terms with it, just like we all had to come to terms with the Phoenix.”
She stuffed the book back in her jacket.
“Besides, Xavier wasn’t a bad man, he just wasn’t the fine example that people believed but sometimes in order to believe in something bigger than ourselves we need someone to follow. It would have been an effort on his part to keep me there all along just to hide me away from the rest of the world, I don’t doubt he generally cared for me and he just thought he was doing the right thing for me, like he had for Jean and like he had for you.”
“I was wrong you know.”
“What?” She turned around in surprise.
“I thought you’d just become this bitter woman, but really you’ve just learned to see the world in a way other’s are so ignorant to. You’ve grown so much.”
She smiled at him.
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“I’ve always believed in you, Marie,” he replied with heavy emotion and it forced her to glance away for a moment, not because she was startled but she suddenly felt shy.
“Do the books have anything to do with Graydon?”
“No,” she replied sharply.
His hazel eyes gazed at her for a moment and he nodded once and headed for the door.
“I hope one day, you can relearn you don’t have to lie to me anymore, Marie.”
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