Separate yourself from the tempest.

Separate yourself from the tempest.

Separate yourself.

This time around, it was no longer Emma's voice that reverberated in her head, but her own. And just like that, Rogue's eyes flashed open wide. Dark red vintage wallpaper painfully greeted her vision. Sitting on the bed, she noticed how her body felt perfectly fine, but a little heavy all over. Her mind was another story because of its mini hangover. She felt like her brain took a spin around the globe, upside down. The subtle buzz was there yet again; she'd have to play the guitar soon.

Instead of worrying, Rogue took a deep breath, but the moment fresh air filled her lungs, Sabretooth's dying thought echoed in her head:

What a way to go.

Flashbacks of grinding sexually against the maddened feral and finding pleasure in it, made Rogue retch by the side of the bed, but nothing came out. Sabretooth's grimy sanctuary could probably keep the secret that it was partly the feral's lust that had sparked her own, but deep inside she was well-aware of the fact that she had relished the heat of the moment, taken it too far. It was a given that their mixed carnality was overpowering. The sick part was that during that encounter, she lost herself with the thought that with Logan it would have felt better, but she enjoyed it nonetheless.

Logan. Her heart instantly constricted with pain.

How could she even fathom to think of Logan now? Did it make any sense that she felt like she had been unfaithful to Logan? Bobby had given her the same emotions when she accidentally touched him, and she found out he had cheated on her with Kitty –or was it the other way around? That even felt so shallow compared to this.

Cheated.

It left such a bitter taste in her mouth; it was how she felt whenever Logan flirted with Jean. His one-night-stands. She felt cheated every time, though she had no right.

Or was she feeling this way because she put down two powerful mutants consecutively and lived through it, scot-free?

She felt horrible and she deserved it.

"You were wonderful."

Raven.

Rogue's gaze slowly flickered towards the mutant. Calculating. She wished that she could find reason in that conniving face. The treachery/test that was Carol. Control over her mutation. Becoming the Slasher's killer. Meeting her at the bar, drinking like they were girlfriends. Everything was actually so transparent to Rogue, but she had to hear it from the woman herself. For confirmation. Remind her that it wasn't as distorted or as deceitful as she thought it was.

Justify this for me, Raven.

"He asked me decades ago," Mystique said casually, granting her wish. Her swollen face blanched as she pressed the icepack against her face. She appeared ready to collapse and blackout, but the woman was born a femme fatale. Her bruised lips were crooked with a tired, regretful smile. "Took me this long to come around to it. I'm a terrible ex-girlfriend, what can I say?"

Absorbing Sabretooth was the exact opposite of what transpired with Carol Danvers. One, he put a really good fight, and most of all, he wanted it to happen. She caught him without warning, he went down swinging till his last breath, but he desired death all along. In truth, Sabretooth forgot about telling Mystique about it years ago, but the few remnants of Victor Creed had kept the promise in a tight box in the back of his mind and held on to it like a lifeline. It had happened in one of those post-romps with the blue-skinned mutant, that he opened up to her in an emotional level that even Mystique thought was astounding. Rogue could even remember Mystique's scent of surprise that night. And he had asked her to find a way to end his immortality, especially if he had gone too far being feral.

"It had to be me, huh...?"

"No one else could have done it. I could have asked Wolverine down the line, but other than our obvious unresolved sexual tension," she paused to smirk at her, just to see her reaction, but Rogue's face remained blank. "It would have been disrespectful to who Victor was, and if anything, he loved Jimmy more than he loved himself."

"Logan doesn't know..."

"Who could blame him? Victor had a peculiar way of showing it anyway." When Rogue stil didn't move an inch from the bed, Raven understood that the younger mutant was processing everything, coping. Taking Rogue's bag from the floor, she deposited it on her lap. "Get dressed. You've got someone waiting for you."

Scott, Rogue thought instantly, but found herself just staring at her hands. Sabretooth's claws had retracted through the night, but she couldn't help but notice the long locks of dark and white chocolate hair that felt like a soft, warm coat over her arms. She hasn't seen her reflection yet, but something tells her that she wouldn't be able to deny going through something life-changing these days.

"Give me a call if you want to work together –or hook up," Mystique joked, though they knew she was actually serious, at least about the former offer. She sat on the bedside near Rogue's hip. "Time will come that you might want to kill me for using you and I wouldn't mind. But you have to give me time to grieve." She tapped the bag between Rogue's arms. "I gave you a disposable phone. You can contact me anytime. Emma's number is in there too. I strongly suggest that you keep it, especially if you need to work with mutants on the same par as you are."

"You sound just like Erik," Rogue murmured. Erik. His voice was no longer in her head. "But I'm not going back to them, if that's what you're implying. I'll just accompany Scott back to the school and go my way." Saying that didn't sound as pathetic as it would have a week ago. She sounded like a grownup, an adult. A woman.

"They'll take you back," the other woman said. "Especially now."

"Probably." Rogue missed the last part of Mystique's reply. "But it's not right."

A pregnant silence filled the air, and once again, Raven was brave enough to ask her, "Say… do you want to come with me?"

Rogue let her gaze linger on the older woman. A part of her wanted to say yes, just because she can, but she shook her head. "I might snap at you and kill you accidentally," she admitted honestly, though she tried to smile. As much as it felt weird to admit it, she considered the mutant one of the few people who really knew her inside out –and even that was an understatement. "Go… before I change my mind."

"Can't blame a woman for trying," Raven laughed softly. Tugging on one of Rogue's white locks, she said, "Go get him, Tiger."

Rogue felt sadness swell in her chest. She hadn't even had time to think of Logan just yet. It was too much. She knew too much. And now, as she watched Raven walk to the door, it tore another kind of pain through her chest. After everything, she knew she wouldn't be able to look at Mystique the same way again. But she would always be stunning, blue skin, beat up or not. Those amber orbs of hers would always sparkle mischief and danger, but Rogue wouldn't be able to forget that when they were together, she had been exposed and emotional. Weak for love. "Raven..."

"I rarely say this, Rogue: Thank you." The door swung open. "You can keep the guitar."

When Rogue heard the Impala's engine thrum to life, the tires crunching against the graveled parking lot, and disappeared further away from her, she finally slid off the bed.

It was time to go back to Scott.

Rogue left her new guitar (whom she affectionately named 'Rage') in her boss Karl's care. After openly ogling her, he gave her his assurance that he will make sure to keep her baby safe. She didn't want to go back to her motel with the guitar, figuring that she would probably play it in the bar when she got back to work anyway.

When Rogue stepped back out in the cold, she felt a bit ecstatic with the thought that she did not need to hitchhike any longer. She was more than tempted to fly back to the motel, but she knew people would freak out if they saw her looking like the Grim Reaper because of her black coat. That, and they could shoot at her, call her a freak, and then she'd lose her job, and then she'd be forced to find another place to settle down. She laughed at her silly thoughts, at the same time wondering why she decided to stay here of all places.

Rogue tugged at her gloves as she walked, feeling a bit skittish. She didn't know how to tell Scott –or believe it on her own, for that matter. Perhaps she'll surprise him with a bare-armed hug or maybe surprise him with a kiss? She giggled. Or better yet, maybe she can just take him out to fly somewhere up the mountains? But he wouldn't be able to appreciate that because he couldn't see shit. Smart, Rogue. Unable to think of what to do with her sudden touchable status, she decided to not dwell on it for the mean time. He would certainly ask her how she got instant control, and those questions she was not ready to answer yet.

Before completely losing her nerve, Rogue sprinted back to the motel without sweat. She knocked on the door before entering. "Scott?" she asked, and twisted the doorknob. It was open. When she entered the place, she found him sitting on the loveseat near the kitchenette, his head jerking towards her direction. "I'm back."

Scott looked like he was having a tantrum, though he looked pretty much like his old self, handsome and fit. He must have eaten all his food and exercised during his cable TV marathon. She missed his smile, because he just grunted at her, "Took you long enough."

"A lot has happened," Rogue sighed loudly and plopped down the bed, uncaring if her bags were left unattended by the door. Ignoring Scott's sour mood, she tried to strike a conversation. She missed him a little. "I don't know where to start."

"Maybe you'd enlighten us then," a deep voice asked in time after she heard the toilet flushing.

"Logan?" she asked breathlessly. Her heart just skipped a bit. It was him, alright; all muscle, flannel shirt, unruly brown hair and that damn eyebrow. The room suddenly felt too small; he was such a big guy. His hands were adjusting that silver belt buckle when their gazes finally met.

"In the flesh, darlin'."