***
In the airport, on the plane, in the cab to Salem Center, I perspired. Sweat drenched my shorn hair and the multiple layers of thin cotton I’d draped my body in. My hands felt clammy inside my gloves. Even my legs, uncovered by clothing and swollen with goose bumps, were balmy and wet. Vapor trickled from my mouth and nostrils with each breath.
The mansion loomed before me like a demon. I vaguely recalled first glimpses of the truly mutant, my companions and friends, often of the blue and furry variety. So this was what it felt like to look and them and not know who they are. So this was what nervousness felt like. Airplane-food vomit rumbled in my esophagus.
I had him leave me off at the gate. I could vaguely feel the mental probing of my mentor. He would never dare enter my mind without permission, but I could sense him waiting on the edge, hovering. The wrought iron fence opened as I approached, and the glee of children beckoned me within. Within the sacred grounds of Xavier’s school, I watched mutant teens at play. Memories washed over me, and I stumbled over the gravel driveway, burdened.
He was at the door, waiting. Wrinkles creased his once youthful face. Those demanding blue eyes had softened to twilight clouds, no longer seeing. The chocolate hands of his successor rested elegantly on his shoulder. And her opaque eyes judged me, unblinking. How could I have left? Why did I give up? She asked without asking, and shame smacked me.
“Rogue,” Xavier spoke. His voice was strong as it ever had been.
“Charles.” I replied succinctly.
“To what do we owe this long overdue visit?” Ororo scowled, but in a serene sort of way.
“Enough, Storm. Please come in, Rogue.”
I shuddered as I walked inside, following them slowly. My eyes jumped in every direction, and I found myself sniffing the air, searching. He would have to be close for me to notice his certain mix of smells, and he wasn’t. My legs continued to follow the procession to the Professor’s office.
Inside the solid oak door, I waited while Ororo took a seat and Charles resumed the place behind his enormous desk. I adjusted the weight of the pack on my shoulder, but did not put it down. I did not wish to stay here long.
“Please sit, Rogue.” Ororo narrowed her eyes, gesturing to a high back chair.
“I’m fine, thank you.” I replied just as coldly. “I do not plan to stay long.”
“The X-Men are a family, Rogue. We’d love to know where you’ve been these last five years.”
“You’re perfectly capable of retrieving that information without my speaking of it.” I was clipped, short-tempered. The longer I stayed here, the less time I would have to look for him. I vaguely wondered if they were stalling, if the entire vision had been implanted in my mind.
“We would never intrude upon your personal affairs, Rogue.” Charles smiled peacefully.
“Bullshit.”
The voice was far away, rough and unmistakable.
***
End.
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