After two full days of secluded sessions with Professor Xavier, Rogue was released without restriction from the lower levels of the mansion. He refused the X-Men’s offer to have Rogue touch them to compensate for the theft of her own memories, the chance of Rogue losing control like she did ten years ago prompting his caution. The added strain of their powerful mutations could set her back in coming to terms with what was stolen from her, and he didn’t want Rogue struggling any more than she already was.

And she was struggling. Badly.

Discovering her beloved foster mother was one of the most nefarious mutants in the world and that her Auntie Irene had died years ago devastated her. Knowing that her father passed away as well further exacerbated the precarious hold she had on reality, having no memory of their reconciliation to console her. Everyone agreed that revealing the last fifteen years of Rogue’s life would add more stress to the already tremendous chaos within her mind, the potential of a complete mental breakdown very real.

Rogue kept to herself, gently rebuffing everyone’s attempts to engage her in the daily routine of the somewhat empty mansion now that it was summer. She appreciated their efforts in trying to make her feel welcome in the large school, but she preferred solitude, immersed in her tearless grief.


*****



Rogue knew they were watching her.

The professor every so often checked up on her telepathically - always polite, always asking for permission before entering her mind, patient and kind in his dealings with her. But the others, they were always around. They were never too obvious, never close enough to disturb her, but still – they were there, taking turns, standing guard. She didn’t know if it was for her protection or for theirs, but if the behavior of the X-Men leader was anything to go by, it was definitely for theirs.

The distrust and anger he exhibited towards her in comparison to the affection and concern the others felt confused her. It was when he had found her standing by the beautiful statue in the middle of the back garden that she discovered why. He had stormed outside, very upset, telling her in a barely civil voice to go back inside the mansion, his entire body visibly shaking. Finding out that the stone angel was erected in memory of his dead fiancée helped her understand somewhat, but when Jubilee went on to explain that she had died while with the Brotherhood, Rogue understood completely.

She avoided Cyclops after that.

As she made her way towards the elevator that would take her down to the sublevels of the school, her thoughts turned to the one person she hadn’t seen since the night of her rescue. The Wolverine. She learned from the professor that he had left to join the Avengers in locating the person responsible for stealing away most of her past and although she wanted to ask if he would be returning, she didn’t.

Rogue cringed, pushing the button that would take her to the sickbay floor with more force than was needed. God, she had clung to him. She could only imagine what he thought of her, bawling like a baby the way she did.

The Rogue does not cry.

And yet she did, just like that, falling apart because some stranger she tried to kill told her everything was going to be alright. How embarrassingly pathetic.

The doors swished open and she strode purposefully through the wide hallway, shaking her head clear. Maybe it was better he wasn’t around – she didn’t want to be reminded of being such a wimp.

Affection flooded through her as she stood by the observation window, watching the blue furred doctor administer various blood tests on Gambit. Rogue liked spending time with the red-eyed mutant. She visited him every day, still guilty but so grateful he didn’t hate her when he had finally woken up from the coma she put him in. His memories had comforted her during the brief time she had access to them and knowing he at one time cared for her despite her poisonous skin made her feel close to him. That he was really cute helped.

Rogue lifted her hand in greeting when the two men caught sight of her, eagerly making her way to into the room when the doctor nodded to her in permission.

“Ah, der is mon ange. Come close, cher. Your pretty face can distract Remy from dis poking vampire.”

Blushing, she walked towards his bed and smiled shyly at the doctor’s warm greeting. As soon as she was within reach, Gambit took her gloved hand in his and fastened his remarkable eyes on her.

“Is dis a good day or bad day, petit?” His handsome face was soft with concern.

Rogue shrugged and resisted the urge to pull her hand away, not used to how comfortable he was touching her. “Ah’m okay.” She forced herself to smile brighter. “Thanks for asking.”

Remy LeBeau returned her smile, dimples relieving the gauntness in his cheeks. “As soon as dis one is free, we go out for some fun, hmm?” His eyes fell to her lips, before lifting back up to catch hers. Rogue’s face burned, her stomach filling with butterflies.

“That will be at least a couple of days yet, Gambit,” the doctor said sternly before turning his attention to Rogue. “Have you thought about joining Ororo and I for dinner this evening, my dear?”

She pulled her hand from Gambit’s grip, eliciting a disappointed frown from him. Rogue nodded, curling her hair behind her ear. “That would be nice Dr. McCoy, thank you.”

Beast beamed at her. “Wonderful! We’ll retrieve you at your quarters at 6pm sharp. For now, unfortunately, Mr. LeBeau needs his rest.”

His patient protested, dramatically declaring it was necessary to his recovery that she stayed by his side, but even Rogue could see how tired Remy was. After assuring him she would return the next day, Rogue turned to leave, a small smile lingering at her lips. He was a charmer, this Remy LeBeau. It was easy to see how she could have fallen under his spell all those years ago.


*****



Charles shut the journal closed with a frustrated snap, his face tight with worry. It was happening. Despite everything he did over the years to prevent it, somehow, someway, the future described on its weathered pages was coming true. He lowered himself slowly into the upholstered leather chair in his office and pressed the bottom of his palms against his eyes, the stress of the past week feeding the dark circles under them.

He had been wrong. He should have told Anna about the existence of Destiny’s diary. The perfect opportunity would have been when Willowbend Academy first opened, after she admitted to him her ability to access the powers of mutants she touched. He told her that he had known, had known all along, but what he didn’t tell her was that he had known many, many years earlier, recuperating on Muir Island while the world thought him dead.

Dr. Moira MacTaggart had given him the diary immediately after he awoke in his brain dead brother’s body, shocked because it predicted he would, regretful she hadn’t given it to him in time to prevent Jean Grey’s death. His old friend had assumed the journal contained the written ramblings of a dying madwoman in her care two years earlier, completely unaware it had in fact been filled with fastidiously documented predictions of a possible future.

Sighing, Charles Xavier returned the diary back into its hiding place in the bookcase behind him, the burden of this secret weighing on him more than all the others. The hologram receptor at the corner of his desk began to beep and Charles activated it, knowing who it would be.

“What’s her progress, Xavier?”

Charles sat back down on his chair and looked at the image of Colonel Fury hovering above the machine. “Rogue remains the same, Colonel.”

Nick Fury frowned. “So she still can’t access her previously absorbed mutations?”

The professor paused, an unpleasant hum niggling at the back of his mind. The missions Rogue took on for S.H.I.E.L.D in the last couple of years had become increasingly dangerous and it led to her being forced to tap into the mutations she had at her disposal. It was only a matter of time before the colonel and Tony Stark became aware of her ability and when they did, they insisted she join the Avengers. Rogue declined, repeatedly, wanting her evolved powers to remain secret, but S.H.I.E.L.D. continually tried to enlist her into their own superhero team ever since. That was the real reason Colonel Fury wanted Rogue in S.H.I.E.L.D. custody after her abduction.

Professor Xavier frowned himself. Rogue becoming an Avenger would never happen.

“No. And I won’t be suggesting she try, Colonel. It’s best for everyone she remain ignorant.”

“And that includes your X-Men? You do realize that Logan knows you are keeping something from your team.”

“Yes, yes, I am very aware of that,” snapped the professor with uncharacteristic annoyance. “I hardly need to remind you that an Omega Level mutant would be an incredible weapon in the wrong hands. The less people know of Rogue’s Level Five capabilities, the better. Quite frankly Colonel, Rogue has been in grave danger ever since you and Mr. Stark discovered her evolved mutation. Thankfully the safeguards I placed in her mind held during her ordeal.”

“Relax, Charles. The alias Rogue uses for S.H.I.E.L.D. is in no way tied to her other identities. There will always be that failsafe as well.”

The professor’s face hardened. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

The colonel changed the subject, seeing how upset the other man was getting. “With Wolverine’s assistance, we have been able to determine that Blindspot escaped with Mystique by way of the Mississippi River up to Memphis where they both boarded a private jet headed for Japan on the same night of the abduction. He’s informed us this morning that he will not be joining the team we have assembled to apprehend them."

That surprised Charles. “Why?”

“He’s confident that the Black Widow and Iron Man will be able to do so without his help.” The S.H.I.E.L.D. director leaned forward, his face grim. “A complication has developed, Charles. The Muramasa blade is missing.”

A few moments of silence passed. This was bad news. Very, very bad news. The professor forced himself to appear calm. “Logan is aware of this, I take it?”

Nick nodded. “Someone wants him dead, only fair we give him a head’s up. The blade’s ability to negate super-healing makes it the only weapon that can do the job.”

“Then it’s a good thing Logan is returning to New York. He is better protected here, with the X-Men.”

The colonel laughed, genuinely amused. “He’s not coming back for his protection. He’s coming back for Rogue’s. The Muramasa blade is capable of killing anyone with super healing powers and with its whereabouts unknown, every feral is unsafe until it’s found.”

The professor’s mind was in overdrive, the news adding to the growing list of predictions coming true. “Who had access to the blade?”

“The only person who had access and who we haven’t been able to locate is Norman Osborne,” answered the Colonel with an expression of distaste.

“The head of H.A.M.M.E.R ? Why would he want it?”

The colonel snorted. “Why wouldn’t he? There are scores of people in the world who want the Wolverine dead, Xavier, which always made the blade invaluable. In my opinion, Rogue’s abduction has Norman Osborne’s stench all over it. Osborne had been in private meetings with Senator Kelly all week leading up to the Mutant Registration Bill hearing trying to shore up support for his new agency and there’s no way Mystique and Blindspot could have gotten through S.H.I.E.L.D. security without some inside help. We find him, we’ll find Blindspot.”

Charles agreed. “When should I expect Wolverine’s return?"

“The day after tomorrow. Interestingly, Emma Frost has requested he visit her in Boston before making his way back to Westchester. You wouldn’t happen to know why she is so anxious to see him, do you Charles?” Nick’s voice held more than just a trace of suspicion.

The professor’s face was neutral. “I am not all-knowing, Colonel.”

“Right. Of course not.” The sardonic sentence was the last thing Charles heard before Nick Fury’s image flickered away.

Charles steepled his fingers under his chin. Everything was happening quicker than he anticipated. He hadn’t been looking forward to telling Logan what Emma had revealed to him yesterday, and he was glad the blonde-haired telepath realized it was best Logan heard the news from her directly. With these new developments, it was a good thing Logan was coming back. He was needed here.

Charles thought of Rogue again. Just that morning she easily relearned how to create a psychic box for the inner Gambit in her mind, impressing him with her prowess. Keeping her unaware that she had one time been able to touch was turning out to be a necessary kindness. After he taught her how to shut the Gambit in her mind away, she asked if he could also teach her to control her skin, the yearning and desperation in her voice heartbreaking. When Charles had to admit he couldn’t, the brief flicker of hope in her eyes had been replaced by such brutal despondency that her projected misery almost brought him to his knees. After that, he couldn’t find it in himself to tell her she used to have control. It would have been too cruel.

Hot anger coursed though him. It was all so unfair.
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