Marie has her schedule timed out perfectly. Except, she isn't sure if it could really be considered a "schedule" since the only thing she has to do is meet with the Professor. Even with that, those meetings only eat up two hours out of her day – every other day. Xavier wants to give her "recovery" time, let her explore the mansion, assimilate. Instead, Marie spends a lot of time staring out of the window in her bedroom. When she does have to venture out to forage for food, she purposely avoids the usual mealtimes, – in what she's dubbed, the X-Cafeteria – preferring to raid the X-Kitchen when everyone is otherwise X-Occupied. And steering clear of people takes planning, so yeah, maybe it is a schedule after all.
On one of her "off" days from the Professor's meetings a wrench is thrown into her careful planning. She's cleaning up after her secret lunch when said wrench walks into the kitchen, looking even more tightly wound than usual. He stops short when he spots her, but continues to the cabinet containing the water glasses after giving her a tight nod.
Sheesh, tough crowd.
Marie is about to make a mad dash back to her room when Scott calls out her name. She turns to face him with all of the enthusiasm Jubilee showed the day he talked to her about summer school.
"How do you like it here?"
Really?
She wants to groan – and again flashes to an image of Jubilee – but the more rational (and boring) part of her suggests that it might be in her best interest to play nice with the leader of the X-Men.
"Uh…fine. It's fine." Maybe if she backs up, heads toward the door, he'll get the hint…
"We haven't seen much of you."
We as in the X-Men? We as in collective society? The royal We? Scott is trying so hard for a casual pose that it comes off as nothing but forced. Sure, on the surface this is going to be a polite little conversation between two mutants in a peaceful school. No murderers and enemies here. Nope.
"I've been around." She shrugs it off, the move about as natural as his straight back.
"So you've taken a good look around?"
Marie's eyes narrow before she can catch herself. She can't read anything behind those damn glasses of his. His tone, of course, is perfectly polite. It might be the ugly paranoia left over from Jubilee's last visit that's roiling through her, but it isn't a stretch for her to guess what he's implying.
"Not really. I'm not really much into snooping." Snottiness, now that is something she does well.
He has the audacity to look shocked, or so Marie thinks, firmly stamping out the part of her that thinks she's overreacting. He puts his glass in the sink before shooting her his best, probably practiced, apologetic grin.
"I wasn't insinuating anything, Rogue." Oh that must be his Teacher Voice. "I –" Then he does falter, seeming to look for the right thing to say, which Marie assumes doesn't happen very often. There must not be a How To Have Polite Conversation With The Enemy In Your Own Kitchen chapter in their X-Handbook.
"Have you been given a tour?" It's a weak offer and he's embarrassed for it.
She'll take pity on him.
"No, that's okay though. I'm fine. I'm just going to go back up to my room." She doesn't get far before tells her to wait.
"How about I show you around on your way up?"
How about no? Even though his smile is a bit on the forced side, Marie still feels a pang of guilt at the thought of turning him down. But Hell, she's no Miss Manners.
She isn't sure if it's the inner conflict that starts the tell tale thrum in her head, but at least it'll give her an excuse.
"Look, uh –" she isn't exactly sure how to address him. Mr. Summers, like the rest of the plucky X-Kids? Cyclops, since she was Brotherhood? Ah, screw it, the pain in her head is a downright pounding now.
" – Scott. I've got a headache. I just want to go to my room."
He nods and forces his smile wider, probably habitual now, giving her a glimpse of perfect straight, white teeth and laugh lines. She would have appreciated how it looked on him – even if it isn't one hundred percent appealing – if it isn’t for the nauseating blood sugar crash feeling that washes over her unexpectedly. She might make some sort of noise, but Marie makes damn sure she catches herself with a firm hand on the counter before she falls on Scott. A growing part of her mind, a foreign part, greatly wants that to happen, to feel his arms around her. Marie has to grit her teeth against the compulsion, her body shaking with the combined effort and the rapid loss of control. She thinks she hears Scott call her name, but the déjà vu feeling of the situation along with everything else her body is fighting drowns out anything external. First Logan, now Scott. What the hell is it about these two guys that crumbles her mental barriers and –
Oh fuck.
She doesn't need to have touched her birth mother to feel ashamed at such language. Still…
There must have been something to what Jubilee said. For some reason, some stupid reason that has nothing at all to do with Marie and that she can't help, Carol wants out. And it has to do with Logan and Scott. Probably even Jean.
The feeling of déjà vu increases when Marie dimly hears other voices enter the kitchen. One she can identify as the redhead in question, the other is new. She won't open her eyes though. Or can't. She is so out of touch with her own body at this point, she isn't even sure. Marie can tell the voices are arguing, trying to decide what to do with her, the murderer with poison skin. When she feels a delicate, feminine hand on her covered arm Marie's eyes do snap open and when she looks at Jean it's as if someone has pulled her deeply inside of herself. It's like watching everything run on a ten second delay, images fed to her from a shaky projector as she's held in her own mind against invisible arms. She snaps at Jean, literally. Well, whoever is in control of her body moves forward to bite Jean. Almost catches her before the doctor's X-Man reflexes kick in, along with someone else's. The difference in sensation between her mental restraints and the large arms firmly holding her down is very minimal. Even through the chaos she's pretty sure some awfully foul insults come out of her mouth, directed Jean's way.
Distantly, someone else is with her in her mind. She wants to call out for help, but she doesn't know how, doesn't even know what good it will do since it's probably just another one of her absorptions coming out of hiding. Marie is just so drained. Just so damn tired. This must have been why Carol’s been so quiet lately. She must have been waiting, biding her time, letting Marie think that the Professor's work was actually helping. As the new presence nudges her, gently getting her attention it slowly dawns on her that it isn't one of her victims.
It's the Professor, but…he's…walking. Not to mention that he is quite younger. She's too worn out to really think about that. She recognizes the kind smile he gives her though. And as if it's nothing at all, he reaches for her and lifts her restraints. She can't even see them, but he moves precisely, easily, as if he can see them clearly. Marie could've sworn it's the Professor calling her name, but his mouth doesn't open, it remains creased in that same smile as he works. Her vision, well the mental vision she's in, dims. Feeling like she's spent a few minutes in front of a couple hundred flashing cameras, Marie blinks away the spots.
She is back in her body. She is encased in blue arms. Furry blue arms. Ignoring everyone else in the kitchen she looks up. Furry blue arms attached to a furry blue body, topped with a furry blue head. And fangs. Big fangs that flash as he speaks.
"Rogue, are you with us once again?"
She looks around, needing a few seconds for her vision to catch up with the motion of her head, then waiting even longer for her brain to process it all. "The Professor…?" isn't there, but she can't bring herself to finish the sentence.
Jean does though and she looks pissed. "Is on his way. He said he was able to reach you, but he'd still like to see you for himself." You little bitch. Marie doesn't have to be a telepath to guess that's what is missing from Jean's statement.
"Yes and perhaps we should examine you more closely in the lab?"
"We've already done that, Hank. After her first…fit." Oh yes, a fit. Like a kid has a tantrum? Marie finds herself returning the feeling of Jean's contempt, not caring how much of it is Carol's.
"Oh? No structural abnormalities that would predispose Rogue to this kind of phenomena?"
"None."
The furry blue mutant – Hank, that's what Jean had called him, right – seems to consider this very carefully before declaring that he would like to study the findings himself. Jean doesn't quite like that either, but she's able to mostly hide that. Mostly.
With timing as impeccable as his suits – and really, how many of those did he have? – the Professor wheels in. Logan and Storm hot on his trail. Great, she's the centerpiece of an X-Meeting. Marie can tell that he's gearing up for yet another barrage of questions about how she feels, and damn, is she ever tired of that. She's still as drained as ever, her body limp against the blue furry guy, just barely maintaining awareness of where she could potentially come into contact with him. Perhaps they should have a calm discussion with the main team present. Just lay everything on the table with the all-knowing Oz mediating. Yes, that would be the rational thing to do. But Marie isn't feeling very rational.
"You said you'd help me!"
"Rogue –"
"No! You said you'd help! We've been working for a week now and then this happens! If you're not going to help me then fine, but don't string me along!"
"Rogue, I am doing everything in my power – "
"Lies." She hisses.
" – but there is only so much I can do, especially if you won't meet me halfway."
She was mad before, but that makes her downright pissed. "What?! I've been coming to you! Every other day for two hours! I've done what you've told me to!"
"No, I'm afraid you haven't."
Marie sees red and this time it isn't because of an irate personality in her head. All that anger is hers alone, but before she can speak, the Professor continues.
"I stressed how important it was to explore the reason behind Carol's evasiveness, but I think you've done your best to avoid that."
"And just how the hell am I supposed to go digging around for her when stuff like this happens? She takes over when I'm not doing anything so what do you think is gonna happen when I try to bring her out?"
He wheels closer to her, shaking his head, but still holding on to his ever-present patience, which Marie used to find comforting. Now it just adds to her anger.
"No, I'm not suggesting that you actively search for her, yet. What I am saying is that you need to keep your mind open to her." The Brotherhood is right, the old man had lost it. He is officially a crackpot.
"You've lost it. I keep my mind open, then she takes over. End of story. That's how it goes."
"Rogue, everything is a balancing act. Yes, I believe Carol will try to exert control as long as you keep fighting so hard to restrain her. If you're unable to find a measure of peace, of acceptance, then you will continue to experience these –"
"Fits." She finishes for him.
His eyes search hers for a moment before he reluctantly nods. Maybe there is something to the balancing thing, because she's having a hell of a time balancing her exhaustion and anger at that moment. He doesn't get it after all. Peace? The Professor wants her to find peace?
"You cannot fully gain control without it." Marie sends him a glare, clearly showing him her displeasure at his reading her mind, even if she is projecting.
She takes a couple deep breaths before biting out her next thought.
"I thought that was what this was all about; me meeting with you. We were working on my control. You were supposed to help me find my peace."
"Not exactly." She clenches her jaw so hard at his words, she's sure her teeth will chip. "I agreed to help you work on your barriers. Temporary mental blocks that would be in place to allow you to find your own sense of peace."
It's too much and not enough all at once.
"Let me up. Let me go." It comes out as more of a growl than anything, but she knows the furry guy will understand her. And he does, his arms loosen and Marie is able to scramble to her feet. Yeah, she'll be taking full advantage of the X-Men's belief in free-will right about now. She'll take it with her right out the front door.
Marie is fully prepared to make a fine dramatic exit from the kitchen, managing to clear a path through the members of the X-Men with her presence alone, when she's stopped right before she hits the entryway – by a wall of Wolverine. Hell's bells.
The Professor's voice comes from behind her, sounding almost as authoritative as Magneto's.
"Where will you go, Rogue? We've discussed this."
She doesn't have a good answer for that and they both know it, but she turns back to him anyway.
"So you're going to keep me here, then? Put me back in that padded room downstairs? We had a deal! I'd stay if you helped me. Just like you help every other mutant who walks through your doors. You're not helping me."
"I'm trying to help you help yourself."
A frustrated noise escapes Marie's throat, and although she'd be hard pressed to admit it later, she balls up her fists and stomps a foot. She doesn't need to be one of the mansion's too many telepath's to gather that the Wolverine at her back probably thinks that she's fully living up to the "kid" status he favors her with.
"Oh that is such horseshit!" Screw him, screw the team, and screw her mother's delicate Southern sensibilities. "I'm gettin' the hell out of Dodge before you can start in on that recruitment speech you also promised not to give. If I hear you spoutin' crap about fightin' the good fight and reachin' for the stars, I'm gonna vomit! I knew this was a bunch of bull! I knew you weren't going to do anything for me! I'm Brotherhood, right? I didn't even register on your radar until Magneto took me in, did I? So just spare me your shit!"
She whirls back around to face the wall-o-Wolverine and in a moment of brazen stupidity, thinks she can take him on. She gives him a "shooing" motion and manages to say, "Go on, then" without her voice squeaking too much. To say that he is unimpressed would be an understatement. He is as still as a statue, from his crossed arms down to his planted feet. Even that one insufferable eyebrow is fixed. The only movement comes when he lets out a deep breath, not needing any words to tell Marie just how annoyed he is.
Surprisingly, he steps aside and she realizes that she's able to leave the kitchen and the X-Men only because he’s letting her. Her inner brat really wants to flip him off, but she enjoys having all of her fingers still connected to her even more. Although she does try and match his glare as she stomps out. She'll just go to her room, grab her coat, and hightail it to wherever. She won't even feel bad for taking the extra pair of gloves she found in the mansion's secondhand collection.
Marie almost reaches the top of the stairs when she tumbles forward, her feet swept out from under her.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I have nothing witty to say/type/sniffle/mumble/mime. Gracias goes to Moviemom who should change her name to my Beta McAwesomeSauce. She's super. Also, the new Adele cd, 21 is amazing. Also it's nearly 3 am so there are bound to be mistakes here. Sorry.
Chapter End Notes:
Gasp! Okay I'ma 'bout to break it down for realsies here ya'll. Reviews actually feed the monster that lives in my closet & if he's still hungry, then I'm dinner. If I'm dinner, then no more updates. Because I'll be dead. Just to clarify.
Please, please *groveling right now, yes, groveling* review :'( Or punch me
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Please, please *groveling right now, yes, groveling* review :'( Or punch me
(Sponsored by Ambien!)