Pairs

by Leighgion

(Standard disclaimers apply. Follows movie continuity post-X-Men 2 with some comic continuity to come.)

The aftermath of Stryker's raid left a shadow of unease over the students at Xavier's School for the Gifted. While Stryker was dead, the loss of Jean Grey made it difficult to put the trauma of the attack and mass abduction behind them.

For the staff and older students, the burden was quietly absorbed and added to their internal tally of life's harsh turns that were survived and thus made them stronger.

For the younger students though, there was a genuine reluctance to stray far from the relative safety of numbers. The lingering fear from having been kidnapped from the sanctity of their beds in the dead of the night wasn't banished by daylight. Even the clearest and sunniest days found the halls of the school filled with restless young mutants caught between cabin fever and fear of bogeymen.

It was thus a bygone conclusion when Rogue set out for a quiet walk in the woods, that she was unable to escape without someone wanting to tag along.

Rogue hadn't really wanted company, but she found it impossible to refuse Theresa Rourke. Terry had had the grace to be embarrassed about asking and, given that that it was her sonic screams the night of the attack that had alerted the school at large to the invasion, Rogue felt the girl deserved some special consideration.

Though plagued with her own problems and insecurities, a part of Rogue had come to understand that, because she hadn't been captured in the attack, the younger mutants numbered her among their saviors and accorded her the appropriate status.

My god, they think I can look after them. I can't even look after me.

Occupied with her own thoughts, Rogue did not offer conversation. As the tree line approached however, Terry broke the silence.

"I like your gloves."

Rogue looked at her hands. She was wearing her antique store find from the weekend: a pair of full length, green satin opera gloves. Professor Xavier had surmised they were quite possibly genuine antiques despite their excellent condition. Not long ago, when Rogue was still called Marie and just an ordinary girl, they'd have been treasures.

But that was another lifetime.

"I'd like them lot more if they weren't gloves."

Terry shot Rogue a confused look, but the unspoken question didn't need to be asked. The dam breached, the older girl kept talking.

"I never used to wear gloves, but now I always gotta have them since I can't touch anybody. Especially not by accident. I get to take them off in the shower and in bed. That's it.

"Now that I'm wearing them all the time, I'm collecting a bunch of different kinds and I'm learning a lot. You know can actually wash leather if you do it right? I didn't know that before.

"Don't matter much what kind though. When you got to wear them all the time, they're too hot when it's warm and never warm enough when it's cold. You can't really feel anything you touch and it don't take long before they start to smell. Then there's the itching.

"You know what's the worst thing about gloves though? Unlike me, they ain't never alone. Gloves come in pairs."

The rest of walk passed in silence.