A small smile curved Rogue’s lips as she approached the small group huddled in the back of the den. That was a lot from any of them these days, but they all felt that they should try to show a united front for the still-traumatized children and teenagers who had been through so much over the past month. Adults and students alike, they all still started at shadows, especially as night was settling in and darkness filling the hallways, where it was too expensive to keep lights burning at all hours.
Rogue’s smile didn’t slip as they made room for her, guaranteeing a few more inches stood between them and her well-covered skin. She was used to this, even though she didn’t like it. They knew that the black silk shirt covering her arms and the well-fitting jeans concealing her legs were enough to keep them safe from her, but it never seemed to make much of a difference.
“Has the news started yet?” she asked softly, glancing around at those she wouldn’t have considered her peers before the events of the previous months.
“No, you made it with just seconds to spare,” her former boyfriend, Bobby, said with his own weak attempt at a smile. It still hurt, how he seemed to have let the ice he could control so easily encase his very soul since his best friend had joined the Brotherhood. He had shut her out just as much as everyone else, until they had mutually acknowledged a week ago that it just wasn’t working anymore.
Rogue turned to look at the large TV dominating one of the walls briefly before letting her gaze travel over the kids sitting or standing around the room. They were all tense, some moving restlessly back and forth, others fidgeting in less obvious ways. Most of their eyes were wide with wariness or fear, depending on the individual. Every person in the room knew that something important was about to happen. There had been vague references to mutants on the news for the past week. Then yesterday the local station had declared that the government would be issuing an announcement the next day, an announcement that would bring new hope to the “mutant situation.”
Rogue felt bitter amusement that they were a “situation.” While she knew that many mutants, herself included, had abilities that frightened normal humans, it was so hard to understand why they had yet to see that many mutations could be used for the benefit of all mankind, homo sapiens or homo superior, as the mutant population was starting to call itself. Perhaps it was the fault of those few who envied the mutants in addition to fearing them. Goodness knew that the X-Men had gone up against plenty of those in the past few years alone.
Thoughts of the X-Men caused her to glance around once more, this time taking in her new teammates specifically. Rogue had been counted among the students only a few short weeks ago. Being seen as one of the adults, one of the “team,” was still an odd feeling. She wasn’t sure how her mutation could help in anything but an all-out fight, but she was more than willing, more than angry enough, to join in.
What right did anyone else have to destroy what Professor Xavier had worked so hard to build? Mutant or non-mutant, it didn’t seem to matter. There were so many forces working against the possibility of peace that it enraged her. Didn’t they see that mutants were just people, too? Wouldn’t it be better to have their cooperation towards bettering all of mankind than to try to use them to dominate the world or try to destroy them altogether? Apparently, there were many who didn’t think so.
The other adults gathered seemed to have the same opinions as she did, although each was expressing those opinions in their own, unique ways. Scott was glowering at the floor. He’d been so angry since they returned from what was being termed as “The Disaster.” Rogue wasn’t sure if anyone would be able to help him deal with Jean’s death; hopefully, he would regain some measure of peace, someday.
Ororo stared out the nearest window, her face showing very little of what she was feeling. Rogue knew from the look she’d seen so often in her eyes, though, that she was in deep pain from the loss of one of her closest friends. She wanted to help Storm, but as with Scott, she didn’t really know how.
Piotr, also known as Colossus now, and Kitty Pryde stood a little to one side, looking as uncomfortable as Rogue felt to be in this group instead of the younger crowd. They were two of the others deemed old enough to contribute to the team. All four of the newest members had been rushed through final exams and issued diplomas, courtesy of Professor X.
Bobby was the only recently promoted “adult” who didn’t look uncomfortable. Instead, he had a pissed off, closed down look that greatly resembled Scott’s. Rogue was glad that they had broken things off; she had her own issues to deal with, and Bobby just didn’t care about anything but destroying St. John anymore. If he thought that was more important than a relationship with her that was fine because she was focusing on other things, too.
Rogue’s glace around the team brought her to one of her problems to focus on. Logan. Wolverine. Once, she thought she knew what was going on in his head. Her glimpses of his personality weren’t exactly the most complicated she’d seen. He’d surprised her, though. She just couldn’t figure out how he was reacting to Jean’s death, to Scott’s apparent lack of interest in leading the X-Men, or to this current potential threat. The Wolverine had become an enigma to her, and that she didn’t like. He was supposed to be the easy one to figure out.
The flicker of the television screen as a commercial ended and the familiar news logo flashed across it drew all eyes to the front of the room. Rogue crossed her arms as the main newscaster, Hannah Dowling, started with a story about a local fire. She began to fidget as the woman’s partner, Dwight Langford, delivered a report on the latest shoot-out in a deep monotone. Finally, the newscasters introduced the story that they were waiting to hear. Everyone in the room tensed at the less-than-positive start.
“And now to our feature story for the night. As you all know, the mutant situation has been showing up in the headlines frequently. The government has been doing all that it can, in conjunction with other nations around the world, to help solve this dilemma,” Hannah Dowling began. Her large, dark eyes and tone of voice conveyed that this was a very serious situation, perhaps even threatening.
“What a bunch of bullshit,” Logan muttered from where he stood beside Rogue. She jumped a little; she hadn’t been aware that he had moved so close, but it seemed that they had all huddled together a little more as those words were being uttered.
“While some individual mutants might be considered peaceful and non-violent, there are far too many who have a violent turn of mind, and their mutations allow them to harm people and damage property that would not have suffered otherwise.” Pictures of mutant-caused mayhem flashed across the screen as Dwight Langford spoke, prompting sounds of disgust from many in the room, especially when some of those pictures were of the X-Men saving people.
“The world governments, desiring to show that they take the potential threat of mutants very seriously, have announced that they are ready to unveil a cure for the mutant gene. All mutants throughout the world are being encouraged to make their way to the clinics that will be providing this cure. The cure itself has not been discussed at length, but the government has issued statements assuring the public that all tests performed on willing subjects have been successful at this point,” Langford continued. In contrast to his fellow newscaster, his expression was open and hopeful.
“They really have this shit worked out, right down to a T. Make ‘em anxious, then give ‘em the ‘good’ news,” Logan growled. Rogue shushed him, wanting to hear if there was any other information on this “cure.”
“If there are any mutants out there interested in the cure, the government has set up clinics in every major city to accommodate you. You can call your local governments to locate the nearest clinic,” Dowling said in what was supposed to be a helpful manner.
The weather forecast came on next, and at that point, someone turned off the TV. It didn’t matter what the weather was supposed to be when you lived in a house with a mutant who could control it, after all.
The whole crowd was subdued. The kids had that scared look in their eyes, the look that asked if their world was going to be turned upside down during the night as it had been once before. The X-Men were quick to rush them all off to bed, assuring them that the “cure” was completely voluntary right now, and there was no use worrying about anything yet. That was your life when you were a mutant. You learned to take the good days whenever they came because the bad days could be terrifying.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
The news is on...
Chapter End Notes:
Hmmm...sounding familiar? I know, I know, it's been done, but it really hadn't been when I started this all those years ago...