Marie waits until well after the dinner rush to venture for food. She’s not sure if Carol is going to continue behaving while Marie tries to stomach anything. Earlier, she managed to avoid others on her way back from the Professor’s office, a part of her wondering just how invested in school everyone must be for the halls to be this vacant.
She had finished high school early, pushing herself to graduate and get away from home as soon as she could. When her mutation roared to life and all but ended the one of the boy she was seeing, she knew she couldn’t stay in Mississippi. Not that she particularly wanted to stay in her backwoods little town with her backwoods parents. The ones who were hell bent on sending her up shit creek without a paddle once they found out that she was a dirty mutie. Her father, in particular, couldn’t wait to sell her out to the nearest “facility”. That bastard.
Okay, so maybe she had some daddy issues…
With that sour thought Marie flicks the kitchen light switch on a little harder than necessary.
“Holy shit!” Pulse pounding, her heart in her throat, she leans against the wall for much needed support as she looks at the figure that nearly gave her a heart attack. Sitting at the table, looking as close to calm as she’s seen him, is Logan. Plus a beer. Minus a flannel shirt. One eyebrow fully cocked.
“What in the hell are you doing?” The question comes out of her mouth before she can stop it. First misplaced giggles, now misplaced sassiness. The part of her that’s not looking for the nearest escape route wonders why she found her backbone now that she’s faced with a man who could, and probably would, remove it.
That eyebrow, if possible, migrates higher as he cocks his head towards his beer. “Drinkin’.”
“In…the…dark?” That’s right, don’t just question the Wolverine, but make sure to do it slowly, offend him as much as possible. Great idea.
“Night vision.” He takes a long pull from the bottle, eyeing her the entire time. If she thought being under the Professor’s watchful stare that afternoon was unnerving, it doesn’t even compare to Logan’s scrutiny. She feels like a bug pinned in a display case.
“I uh…came for food.” Yes, because this is the kitchen and this is where people keep food. It is the natural order of things. The look he gives her says he’s thinking the same. That and she’s a bit of a dolt.
Keeping her back to the wall as if she’s in a bad spy movie, Marie cautiously inches toward the refrigerator. Damn, she’s going to have to turn around to open it. Perfect opportunity for him to go straight for her kidneys. The trembling starts in her extremities, just as it did in the elevator and for the first time in a long time she wants to let out a string of heated curses. This is ridiculous; Carol put her through hell both mentally and physically for days. If she’s going to die now, there’s no reason for her to be a quivering idiot about it.
Trying to sum up bravery she hardly feels, Marie turns away from the self-appointed boozing sentry and opens the fridge.
She could live in there. Really. The damn thing is huge, which makes sense since she’s in a high-occupancy mansion. As she gives each item a once over, her stomach starts to roll with the beginnings of Carol’s protests. The urge to curse only increases. She’s been starving ever since the Professor mentioned eating. She can’t even remember the last thing she was able to keep down. Marie feels her temple come into contact with the cool metal of the refrigerator door she’s holding open. Gritting her teeth, she resists Carol’s urge to start banging her head against it. Jubilee must have been onto something with the whole Super Bitch thing. That thought is followed by a shift in her inner ear; even with her eyes closed she feels the loss of equilibrium and slumps against the fridge door to compensate. She can’t be sure if she’s actually whispering “stop it” out loud or if she’s just repeating it in her head.
Suddenly she’s jerked upright with a hard tug on her clothes, one steady support gripping her upper arm. The sudden movement does nothing to quell the urge to puke.
“Hey.” That gruff voice is a lot closer than before. Great, she’s going to hurl all over the mighty Wolverine.
“Dammit kid. Open your eyes.” He gives her a shake and she groans.
“Not a kid.”
Marie tentatively opens one eye, then the other, finding Logan a little too close for comfort in his white sleeveless shirt. Despite the racket in her mind and the mutiny in her body, she feels a silly thrill at seeing his bare arms. She goes with that instead of fixating on Carol’s mayhem, indulging in the feminine appreciation of how much bigger he is than her, how much stronger, the definition of his muscles, his strong features, the heat coming from him –
“Hey.” He gives her another shake. A much, much needed shake. She pulls away, noting that she can only do so because he lets her.
“Ah’m fine.” Her accent reflecting just how thick her tongue feels.
He’s back to that scrutinizing, but she still manages to catch the imperceptible lean of his body, the subtle sniffing.
God, if she had a dime for every time a feral had sniffed her in the past few years…
At least Logan tries to hide it well, unlike Victor. Marie is caught when Carol’s voice envelops her like a soggy blanket, listing some other things the Wolverine does well.
“Shut up!” He snaps up at her outburst, his body mirroring how rigid hers had suddenly become.
Nononononononononononono! She doesn’t need someone helping her perv on the Wolverine. This will not happen. Barriers! What about those damn barriers!
She doesn’t remember closing her eyes, but she can feel her gloved hands clamp over her ears, ineffectually digging into her head through the cloth. Strong, firm hands grab her forearms, safely protected by her clothing. Even with her eyes closed she feels him get closer to her and with the closing distance she feels just as small as she did when she had fallen on the floor earlier that day, looking up at Wolverine Mountain.
The increasingly familiar spike of cold rushes through her, chased by a wave of heat as she feels Carol gaining the upper hand, whispering to her what it’s like to mount Wolverine. It’s exciting, it’s illicit, it’s something she’ll never have, and it’s torture. Marie stiffens in his vice-like grip and lets out a scream of pure frustration.
“What’s going on in here?”
“How the hell should I know, Scooter?!”
“You’re the one touching her!”
“I didn’t do shit!”
“Enough! Both of you! Just hold her down and don’t touch her skin.”
Marie barely registers Scott’s and Jean’s entrance through her own cussing and screaming. Yelling for Carol to stop and get out of her head. Twisting out of the hold she’s in, aching to crawl out of her own skin. How the hell did things escalate so quickly? No, it’s not a seizure, her body isn’t warping under Carol’s control. This is pure Marie. Pure bitterness and resentment.
She feels pressure in her mind, different from Carol in a way that someone could tell the change in flavors. Marie is still bucking, resisting, demanding to be left alone. It’s too crowded in her head, someone she doesn’t recognize has barged in and Marie vaguely recognizes her own keening wail at the thought of absorbing yet another person.
“Fuck’s sake Jeannie! The hell are you doin’?!”
“Would you just let her work! Keep Rogue still!”
“Wasn’t askin’ you, Boy Scout. But if you’re gonna butt in, how ‘bout you tell your girl to cut the shit! It ain’t doin’ Rogue any favors.”
“Favors? That’s funny coming from you.”
The pressure in Marie’s head grows stronger and stronger. Lights burst behind her eyelids. Right before she loses consciousness she feels the phrase go through her mind at the same time her ears pick up a female voice saying “Both of you just shut up!”
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Marie is most definitely not a fan of waking up in the mansion’s med lab. It wasn’t a fun ride the first time around and whoever screwed with her brain this time sure didn’t tip toe around up there. Keeping her eyes closed against the harsh glare of the lights, Marie does a little mental prodding to figure out who must have touched her.
“Head hurt?”
Oh hell. The growled question races up her spine and her eyes snap open against her better judgment. Couldn’t they afford a dimmer switch? Squinting, she turns to see Logan sitting in the corner closest to her bed, arms crossed, cigar in mouth, trademark scowl in place. And really, he should get on to trademarking that.
She’s strangely disappointed that he’s covered up with a plaid shirt again.
“Huh?” And she should get to trademarking that.
He grumbles a bit as he sits up and grabs hold of the unlit cigar. “Your head. Does it hurt?”
Well yes, actually. She feels like she just had a meet and greet with a convoy of tractor trailers.
“Yeah.”
“Fuck.”
They were an eloquent pair.
Marie takes a look around; no one else is laid out beside her. Gently testing the limits of her barriers she tries mentally thumbing through the catalog of personalities she’s stored, but can’t find any new entries. Time for Plan Z: Q & A with the Wolverine.
“Who’d I touch?”
Oh that eyebrow, it was really starting to grow on her. “No one.” He grunts.
“No…there was someone else…in my head. I heard another voice.”
That eyebrow is going to have to apply for a passport if it migrates any further north. Well, what did she expect when she starts talking about the voices in her head? Of course she’s going to get the “shit, where do we keep the straightjackets” look.
He seems like he is actually considering humoring her after that. “Musta been Jeannie.”
Jeannie? Mental roll call shows…no, no Jeannie – wait –
“The doctor? Jean?”
Another grunt, this time with a nod. “Yeah, telepath.”
Well damn. Xavier’s is just brimming with the ‘paths these days. How fantastic.
“You…you weren’t…right.” Marie quickly gathers that this Wolverine isn’t much of a talker. Still, his statement brings out a wry grin and a humorless chuckle from her. She imagines she looks as crazy as she sounds.
“I never really am.”
With an efficient swish, the doors to the med lab open and the cavalry troops in.
“Rogue, how are you feeling?” Oh the Professor and his infinite kindness. It’s really starting to grate on her.
Maybe if she puts on her best sweet southern drawl, she can hide the snark she’s dying to let out. “We need ta stop meetin’ like this.” Bat her eyelashes? No, no that’d be too much. Also, the lights still really hurt.
“Yes, well I was hoping you would take it easy – “
Marie can’t help but snort, consequences of interrupting their leader be damned. Maybe it was years of repressing herself with the Brotherhood that’s made her tongue a little looser now that the only walls she’s finding herself up against are made out of patience instead of punishment. She’ll reflect on that later. Right now she wants to vent.
“I was tryin’ to eat something, dammit! Jus’ like ya told me to! What happened to those mental blocks you put in my head, huh? How can a girl eat in peace when she’s got an angry person living in her body trynna kill her!?” Her anger flares her accent, instantly undoing years of practiced repression. It’s during her rant, when she starts struggling that she notices they had strapped her down. Where the hell is Carol’s super strength when she needs it?
“Rogue. I need you to calm down. As I said, those blocks were temporary. We need to work to make more permanent ones, to –“
“Screw it! Ya can’t help! None of ya! I’m supposed ta trust a bunch of telepaths who go stormin’ through my brain like a bunch of damn elephants?” She shoots a glare to the pinched faced of the doctor. “There’s nothin’ anyone can do so just let me go!” She knows it’s pointless, they have her strapped down tight, but she still continues to buck against the restraints, pitching the little hospital bed to and fro, the little monitors that were taped to her now popping off.
“And where would you go?”
She stops her movements. Well that was the crux of it all, right? She can’t return to the Brotherhood and she really had nothing going for her before that either. But somewhere inside of her a little spark she thought she had let die comes to life. She knows she has nothing, nowhere to go, no one to go to, but screw it. She is just so damn sick of everything. She needs to get away. Away from people, away from the looks, the controlling, the restraints. If she’s going to go batshit crazy and live a life of uncontrollable body movements she might as well do it on her own terms.
Marie pins the Professor with a glare, ignoring the part of her that wants to recoil from his piercing eyes. “I’ll survive. I’ve done it before.”
He leans in, “Is that what you want? To go back to that kind of living?” And if she thought the wind was let out of her sails before, well that comment pretty much sunk the damn ship. He knows too much. The damn telepath knows just what her survival skills on the streets entailed.
And just like that, Marie wants to deflate, crumble and give in to the constant underlying exhaustion that seemed to follow her for years, that came with bouncing from one extreme emotion to the next. She wants to indulge in tears and the urge to ask him for help, just like she wanted to do yesterday when she woke in the med lab. It seems like a million years ago. It’s damn appealing. She’s so sick of this damn bipolar feeling, so she shoots to anger instead. To hell with their conversation earlier.
“Fuck you, you don’t know anything.” Out of the corner of her eye she sees Scott stiffen, but she doesn’t care because really, screw his Professor. He may be a damn powerful telepath, but he still doesn’t know. She can guess at the fractured memories and impressions that he had gleaned from her mind, but he can never fully understand what that part of her life felt like.
The Professor sits back in his chair and gives her a long appraising look that she forces herself not to shy away from. “I suppose I don’t know everything – “ which is not exactly what she had said, “ – but I do know that you need a safe place to stay, stability, help.” His tone, his look dares her to deny him. So she does.
“I need to be left alone.” She hopes that grounding out those words sounds more forceful than reluctant.
“To try your hand at making it in the world with nothing?” For a man supposedly known for his passiveness, she’s caught off guard by the Professor not pulling any of his punches.
Her inner fire is flickering. Repeating that she would survive is on the tip of her tongue, but she’s not exactly sure that would happen, that she would want that. It would be hell, she knew from experience. She barely survived before the Brotherhood came knocking and even so, she had to compromise too much of herself to make that happen. It’s not something she can go through again. She doesn’t want to survive that much, especially after this.
“There are worse things out there than death.” The grandfatherly pretense is gone. She feels a ghost of Erik’s presence dimly bristle through her at Charles’ – no, the Professor’s – tone. He has a point though, even if she let exposure and starvation take its course, there are still labs out there, various anti-mutant groups that would either sell her to one or enact their own brand of torture. There’s also the little matter of whatever the hell the Brotherhood is up to where she’s concerned.
Marie has never felt so torn. Physically, yes – impossible not to with her type of mutation. Emotionally, no. She wants to fight them on this, throw their good intentions in their face and spit on them because she doesn’t know what else to do with something like that and it’s been too long since she’s indulged in her spite. On the other hand she’s just so damn tired. Of everything. Her mutation, her whole friggin’ lot in life. She’s done. Yeah she wants to fight her way out of this, do her own thing and not look back, be the Rogue everyone told her she could be. But afterwards, she just wants to curl up somewhere and not wake up. That earlier burst of fire she felt is now down to faintly glowing embers.
She works the lump in her throat a few times before she’s able to speak, and even then her voice still cracks. “Can’t…can’t you just…get her out? All of them. Just get in my head and wipe the slate clean.”
It’s Logan’s turn to stiffen, his eyes narrow with an expression she can’t decipher.
The Professor only gives a slow shake of his head. “To do so would be running the risk of erasing everything in your mind. The personalities you’ve absorbed are too entrenched. Your memories, all of the things that make you you would be gone. That would be the best case scenario. At worst, we could both end up trapped in your mind, your body of no use, on life support. Those are risks I will not take.”
Marie doesn’t know how long she’s been doing it, but her head is slowly shaking from side to side on the scratchy pillow, not wanting to process what the Professor was telling her.
“Rogue, controlling the barriers – “
“Ah’m tired. Ah want t’sleep.” She still doesn’t bother trying to control her accent like she usually does. She let it out; let it reflect just how thick and syrupy her mind and body feel. She closes her eyes. Done, wanting nothing more right now than to be left alone.
“I’ll have a tray brought down with something for you to eat when you’re ready. Jean? The restraints, please.”
“Professor, I really –“ The doctor is cut off by a loud sigh from Xavier. Silence follows before she reluctantly begins undoing the buckles. Marie lies prone, the fight gone just as quickly as it came. Smoldering embers to snuffed out ash. She gives into the exhaustion that follows.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is up a bit earlier than I originally planned. Since the semester begins on Tuesday I want to get in the habit of doing weekend updates. Major thanks goes to Moviemom for the beta, but since I'm a bit of a pain in the ass I went ahead & tinkered with this chapter a little more. So any mistakes are mine. Hope you guys don't mind a ping-ponging Marie - she can't decide what she's feeling.
Chapter End Notes:
So I've decided to go on a diet. I'm only going to live off of reviews for a while. No sugar, no fat, no cholesterol, but incredibly filling. I could nom on your reviews all day :D