“She’s not going to be very cooperative,” the tall blonde said softly as she spoke with the small group sitting around the occupied hospital bed. Psylocke found herself only half-listening as her lingering gaze shifted back and forth between the two feral mutants on the other side of the bed. The girl lay between them all, lost inside herself. Psylocke found herself wondering if Rogue was listening in on the conversation taking place around her, but doubted it.
She rolled her eyes for the hundredth time since the meeting began. They had already been through all of this, but for whatever reason, Emma Frost felt she had to validate her point.
“Can we please get on with it,” Psylocke found herself growing increasingly impatient as her friend droned on and on. They had known each other for going on ten years now. Both had been young and smart, attending the same college and finding each other in many of the same classes. Neither had really given each other a second thought until they both realized one other aspect of their lives that they shared. Both were mutants. Psychic mutants.
But while Psylocke was a bit more reserved and quiet, Emma Frost seemed to flaunt everything about herself. She easily took control of any situation and regularly manipulated any event to satisfy her own needs. More often than not, Psylocke found herself to be the more stable of the two.
“Fine, fine,” Emma replied, waving her hand in the air. Psylocke shifted in her seat, watching as the other woman made herself comfortable in the chair at the foot of the bed. “While Psylocke should have no trouble assisting Victor’s consciousness, it seems it will be more difficult for you. She may not be so accepting of you. While Psylocke will take create a bridge for Victor, I will keep you anchored and stop her from forcing you out. Just understand that if she wants you out badly enough, I will not be able to prevent it.”
“Fine. Now how are we going to do this?” Logan asked impatiently, not really caring about the particulars of the process.
He soon found himself strapped to a hospital bed just a few feet from Victor, with Rogue lying between both men. He would do anything to put her in a less dangerous situation, but as it was, he really had no choice.
“The straps are for your safety. If Rogue pushes your consciousness from her mind, you may seizure. While I know both of you are healers, this just makes it easier on both Psylocke and myself to hold a connection with you. If you seize, we will be able to mentally assist and help pull you out of it,” Emma explained as she sat on a chair just above Logan’s head. Psylocke did the same with Victor, and both feral mutants soon found their minds being entered by telepaths.
All the while, Hank, Colossus, and Angel stood by and watched, waiting for any problem, medical or otherwise, that might reveal itself.
“Just relax, Logan. You haven’t done anything yet,” her voice was full of amusement, and Logan found himself growing a bit irritated with her. “If you don’t calm yourself, this isn’t going to be easy.”
“I thought shit like this wasn’t supposed to be easy,” Logan snapped as he looked across the room to where Victor and Psylocke were positioned on the other side of Rogue. Victor’s eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out, as if he were lost in a dead sleep. Psylocke’s own eyes were also closed as her hands rested against the murderous mutant’s temple. Her brows were furrowed in deep concentration and Logan found himself unable to decide if she looked like she was in pain or just constipated.
He felt the light slap against the side of his cheek as he chuckled to himself. Obviously Ms. Frost was already somewhat linked to his head. “Would you just knock it off and concentrate? Or do you really want him running around in Rogue’s head? Psylocke’s just acting as a bridge, remember? She can’t control what he does.”
Those words got to him. He hated to admit it, but the woman was right. He let out a slow growl in the general direction of the other feral mutant before closing his eyes and putting every effort into relaxing his mind.
He felt the pull without feeling his body move. The sensation was strange and not completely unpleasant. There was no pain involved, but it was something he wasn’t too sure he wanted to try again.
Opening his eyes, he found himself standing next to what looked like part of a calm river. To his left flowed a small fall of crystal clear water. There was nothing but greenery all around; ferns and wild grass, trees that reached high above his head. Wildflowers were strewn about all over, and for a moment, he felt that something this perfect could only be found in the movies. It was nature at her most beautiful, and he felt he could get lost here.
“What do you want?”
The voice came from behind him, and he found himself wondering why he hadn’t caught any scent as he turned around to face whoever had been able to sneak up behind him.
She was watching him with a furrowed brow, unable to hide her anger and loathing.
“Hey, Rogue,” he said slowly, watching her squirm a little. She was clearly uncomfortable with his presence, though he suspected that it had more to do with her recognition of him than anything else.
She was dressed in very little, a scrap of shirt that barely reached the bottoms of her breasts and a pair of cut-offs that ended just under the curve of her behind. She looked how he knew she would again in just another year or so, the baby fat gone and her features sharpened, but with a certain softness. Her stomach was flat, and her curves had filled out, especially at the swell of her bust.
Her hair was hanging loose, its wildness only adding to her beauty. Her feet were bare, and he found himself wondering if she was what poets and writers thought of when they envisioned pixies and fairies.
“You know who I am. I can see it in your eyes.” He wanted to growl and shake her. And he wanted to pull her close and never let her go again. He wanted to protect her. He knew why she had come to him like this. She had never known the freedom to dress and act how she wanted before. Even when her mutation first manifested, she had been subjected to her parents scrutiny. This was a sign of the freedom she had never known.
“Why are you here, Logan?”
He opened his eyes and found himself standing in a house painted white with a wraparound porch and huge bay windows. There was a tire swing in the front yard, hanging lifelessly in the stillness of the southern summer day. He could distinctly hear a tune from a piano floating from the house, although he couldn’t place the music. The laughter of a woman soon followed.
“Are you going to come in, Victor?” He heard the voice call to him and knew exactly who it was. He smiled slowly, walking towards the house.
Opening the door, he listened to the creak of its hinges as it swung inward. He looked to his left as he entered, the same direction he could hear the piano music coming from. A woman in her early forties sat at an old, scarred piano, playing along as if nothing was taking place around her. She had long brown hair that curled and hung loosely down her back. She was facing him, but her focus was on the piano in front of her and she had yet to acknowledge his presence.
Although her face was shrouded by the shadow of the curtain to her right, he could clearly see her features. Past the lines age and a hard life had given her, he could see the beauty she once was. There was a sadness around her mouth that was just subtle enough to go unnoticed by those who didn’t know where to look, and yet he had a feeling her entire face would light up when she gave a genuine smile. It wasn’t her appearance he found most startling, though, but the familiarity. He instinctively knew that when she looked up, he would be staring into deep brown eyes. There might even be sadness there, too.
“Victor.” The whisper came from the direction of the stairs to his right. He turned to see a woman standing at the top, crooking her finger, beckoning him. “She’s not going to notice you. Come on, I’ve got something to show you. You’re going to love this.”
“You gonna come back to us anytime soon, darlin’?” Logan asked slowly, not answering her question. It was strange to see her looking so young. Once upon a time, he would never have believed she could be so young. Even during that initial meeting, he had thought her older than she appeared. Her eyes had always shown wisdom only acquired through harsh experience.
Even now, he realized she wasn’t as young as she was trying to be. She could change her physical appearance as much as she wanted, into whatever she desired, but she couldn’t change her eyes.
“Why the hell should I come back? What do I have that I need to come back to?” Rogue asked incredulously as she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the tree to her left. “There’s nothing left there for me, you know. Everyone’s either moved on and forgotten about me or they don’t want me around anyway.”
“That’s not tr-…”
Rogue cut him off. “I’m not stupid, Logan. I’ve lived for years without being able to touch anyone, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t read them. Bobby’s moved on. Hell, he moved on before I even left. Storm’s too busy to even notice, and even if she did, she probably wouldn’t give a fuck anyway. Nothing’s wrong with me, my ass! I was the outcast in a mansion full of freaks. I couldn’t even control my mutation.” Her eyes were full of hate and vehemence, and in that moment, he saw the revulsion she felt for herself.
“Scott couldn’t control his mutation, either,” Logan replied slowly, trying to show her that there were others like her. “And Storm has to have complete control over her emotions. Hell, even Jean…”
“Don’t say her name to me,” Rogue hissed lowly, interrupting him. “She’s the whole reason I don’t want to be out there. I don’t want to be that monster. That’s what I have to look forward to, you know. A lifetime of suppressing my mutation long enough to lose my fucking mind.”
He winced as she cursed. Just imagining the pain was almost unbearable.
“Storm has her emotions under control; she’s worked hard, but she’s gotten there. And Scott, you’re right, he had to wear those stupid glasses all the time, but there was a reason why he had no control. But me, not even the greatest telepath the world has ever fucking known could help me, and now he’s dead.”
Logan waited quietly, understanding that she wasn’t looking for answers but venting her anger. This was something she needed.
“Now I have forever to look forward to living like this, longer than you or Victor. I get to live forever wandering the earth like a vagabond, hidden in the shadows beneath cloth to keep everyone at a distance. And when the earth ends, I’ll probably still be stuck just outside the white gates, cursed and unwanted by either Heaven or Hell. And I won’t even be able to kill myself.” She was close to shouting now, and he reached for her without thinking, pulling her close to his body.
“I won’t let that happen to you,” Logan whispered softly. He wanted to hold her close and soothe away all her pain, give her something to hold on to, just as he had a lifetime ago, when they were both sitting on a train that could have been heading anywhere. Too late, he realized his mistakes.
“You’re a fucking liar,” she growled at him as she pushed herself from his embrace. He didn’t know what to say to that, startled by the anger twisting her features. “You’re the worst one. You promised me you would take care of me, and then a week later, you turn around and leave. If I hadn’t caught you at the door, you wouldn’t have even said goodbye. Just a postcard here and there, just to say hey.”
“I called, too,” he said defensively, trying to grasp at something. “I always asked how you were doing.”
“You never asked me. Not once when you called did you actually talk to me, Logan. You asked Xavier and you asked Jean. Hell, you even talked to Scott at least once, but you never uttered a word to me.” It was apparent she was having a hard time controlling her emotions, but he had a feeling that she had been bottling everything up for far too long to be able to stop the flow. Everything would spill out now, and all he could do was shut up and hope that she felt better when it was over. “And when you come back, I get barely a hug and an introduction to my ‘boyfriend’ in before you forget that I’m even in the room. But that was when she walked in, so I guess I can understand that. But what about later? I had to beg the guys to go back for you, but you were so caught up in your past, you were ready to turn us over to the military.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he growled back at her, his own words heated at this point. He had been able to accept everything she said before this point, but she had pushed it too far now. “That was my past. Stryker was the only person who could have given me answers to who I was.”
“Was, Logan. Who you were isn’t important anymore. Don’t you get that?” Her voice had lowered and now he saw that she was hugging herself. “What are you going to do if you find out who you were isn’t anything like who you’re trying to be now? What if you find out that you weren’t much different from all the bogeymen out there you’ve trained us to fight? Will you be able to live with yourself? It’s been almost two decades, Logan. Haven’t you considered that you might not want to remember who you were?”
The thought had occurred to him, of course, but the way she said it, the raw emotion in her voice… He suddenly found himself wondering if she knew more than she was telling him. But he was too afraid to ask.
“This isn’t about me, Rogue. I promised to protect you. I want to keep that promise,” Logan said slowly, reaching a hand out to her, hoping that she would understand the emotions he was still unable to voice. “I’m asking you to come back. Let me take care of you again. Hell, I’m in here with Sabretooth of all people…”
“I know,” she said slowly, shocking him. He hadn’t realized she knew what was happening. “He’s here, too, in another thought; a memory, actually. You’re in one of my fantasy places, one that I used to dream about as a child. Usually, there are all sorts of animals, but I guess they fear the animal in you, too. Or maybe it’s the one in me.”
“How do you know he’s here?”
“It’s my head, Logan. I can feel all of you.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Victor asked with a growl as he followed the woman into the first bedroom. He felt himself grow anxious as he came to a stop in the door, taking in the sight of a seventeen-year-old girl’s room. The figures of a boy and a girl who were clearly attracted to each other lay on the bed, side by side. The boy looked clean-cut and fresh, as if he had just stepped out of a magazine. The girl was wearing a pink strappy top that left her shoulders and arms bare. When she turned her head, Victor realized it was Rogue, but it was before her mutation manifested, before she became The Rogue.
“This is the best part,” the woman at his side squealed, drawing his attention to the interaction unfolding in front of him. A little harmless flirting between two kids too naive to know better. A glance away, coyly done and only enduring because of its innocent, a kiss that turned into something a little deeper.
He knew what this was even before the boy on the bed began to seize: her first kiss. As he watched, Victor felt himself grow physically ill. His stomach seemed to turn with the rage and guilt he felt at witnessing such a private image. He wanted to kill the woman at his side for showing him this, but even he knew that he was partly to blame. He should have walked away.
“What the fuck, Carol!?” Victor roared as he reached for the woman, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her head hard enough against the door that he could have sworn he heard the wood split. Of course, he already knew that there would be no marks, no indication of what had happened. The sound was only in his head. “Why would you show me this? What the fuck kind of sick pleasure do you get out of watching this?”
“I get to see her in pain,” Carol replied as her smile twisted. “I get to see her hurt someone else like she hurt me, and watch her suffer for it. She took my fucking life, Victor. She killed me and trapped me in here, in her head, to suffer for as long as she lives.”
“You tried to kill her,” Victor replied, his voice a low threatening growl, but she showed no real fear of him. “She only defended herself.”
“She still did this to me. She didn’t have to hold on so long. She could have let go at any time. She had my flying abilities and my strength within the first second of contact. She didn’t have to hold on.” Carol was practically screaming now, and Victor found himself wondering how he ever could have found her attractive.
He dropped her to the floor, understanding dawning on him as she pulled her knees to her chin, hiding inside herself. “This is going to sound really bad coming from someone like me, Carol, but you should know. You’re fucking insane. If you were still alive, I’d tell you to get some help. And, if I were you, I wouldn’t try to take over this body. If you do, I might have to kill you.”
“Would you be able to? Even if I looked like her?” Carol asked through her tears, her body shaking with the sobs of a broken woman.
“For her? In a heartbeat.”
They stood that way for a moment, Logan staring at her, Rogue staring at his offered hand. He knew she was fighting with herself, trying to decide what she really wanted. For just a second, he saw the battle in her eyes, and wondered if the girl he had once picked up all those years ago still lived within the woman before him.
He felt a surge of happiness when she reached out and took his hand, accepting his offer. She didn’t just come to him, though; she plastered her body against his. Although he couldn’t catch her scent, he could practically feel the lust and sexuality oozing from her. She smiled at him, a smile that held none of the innocence that he had always associated with her.
Bringing her mouth close to his as she wrapped his arms around her waist, she nipped at his lips, teasing his mouth with her tongue. He felt his own arousal begin to stir, and wondered for a brief second whether it was his own emotion or hers.
“A lot’s changed in the past couple months, Logan. I’ve learned a few things,” Rogue said, her voice low and sultry, her accent thick.
Logan wasn’t sure what she was talking about. All he kept thinking about was the way her body felt pressed against his, how well it fit. “What’s that, darlin’?”
“I’ve learned that I can take control of my life,” Rogue replied with a smile as she scrapped her teeth along his jaw line. “And I’ve learned that I don’t need you to protect me anymore.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. She pushed herself away from him again, this time turning and walking away. She stopped just out of his reach, turning and looking back at him. This time, her eyes were full of remorse and regret. “I don’t need you anymore, Logan.”
She turned away, disappearing into the dense trees surrounding them.
“But I need you,” Logan whispered in an aching voice just as he was forced from her mind.
The room was silent as both men stirred at the same time. Neither had expected what they were confronted with, and both psychics had witnessed everything.
“Carol won’t take over,” Victor said first once they were both untied, his voice low. “She’s content with spending eternity inside Rogue’s memories. She’s broken.”
“I got the feeling that she’s slowly accepting the fact that she won’t live again,” Psylocke added before questioning could begin.
Everyone turned back to Logan, Psylocke and Victor both wanting answers, Emma unable to hide her pity for the man.
“Rogue will come back,” was all he said before leaving, letting Emma make the decision whether to tell the others everything. At that point, he didn’t care if Victor decided to go on a murderous rampage. He just didn’t care anymore.