Author: Artemis's Liege PM
Five things Sam doesn't like about Rogue, and the one thing he does.Rated: Fiction T - English - Friendship - Cannonball/Sam G. & Rogue/Anna Marie - Words: 2,529 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 1 - Published: 08-22-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7312560
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings, and other plot elements belong to Marvel. All other products and copyrighted works mentioned belong to their respective owners. I don't own anything, and I do not gain any profit from this page.
Edit: This is a re-post due to several revisions.
Author's Note: The views and opinions expressed in the story content do not correlate with the views and opinions of Artemis's Liege.
Sam and Rogue have a mutual understanding in the comics, and Evo never touched on that, so I thought that I should.
The summary says all. Not beta'd, so all mistakes are my own.
Five things Sam doesn't like about Rogue
Sam isn't certain what precisely it is about the clothes Rogue selects. It could be the style, edgy and goth, with just a hint of punk. It might be the colors, blood red, indigo, black, dark purple and dark green and how she basically refuses to wear white or pastels or any cheery color. The materials, leather and lace combined with a variety of other fabrics, always accented with zippers or other pieces of metal, may also play a role in the equation.
The articles of clothing she chooses for her outfits also irritate him. Right now, she's wearing a short, black, bandage skirt with a black bustier, cropped to expose her midriff, which Sam does admit, is very nice and toned. A pair of leggings and a sheer, silk shirt, both dark green, and black combat boots complete the outfit.
Not exactly the look most girls try for when studying in the library.
He swears, it's almost as if she wants the Xavier Institute to adopt a dress code.
Whatever it is, the clothes bother Sam. He's always thought goth kids were weird, and the knowledge that he's living in relatively close quarters with a goth girl unsettles him.
Why would somebody choose to dress like that in the first place? So much black and looking like the epitome of death and whatever those goth kids like to say.
Sam doesn't understand it, so he sits and stares at Rogue from across the library.
Perhaps she senses his eyes on her; Rogue glances up from the vocabulary words she's copying to meet his eyes.
They hold eye contact for a few moments, and then Sam glances away.
When he looks at her again, she's resumed writing definitions.
In the past, Sam never thought much of the term "attitude problem." The phrase has been thrown in his face by arrogant adults who believed they knew better than him. His younger sister, Paige, has been subjected to it once or twice by people who didn't like her self-reliance and independence.
So Sam has always thought that the phrase was created by adults because they wanted to discreetly tell a kid they didn't like them. Paige is a good kid, after all, and he himself has yet to be arrested.
But the term "attitude problem" has never applied to anyone more implicitly than Rogue. The concept fits her perfectly. There's the infinite numbers of times she rolls her eyes in disgust; her usual greeting to any idea or suggestion she doesn't agree with. Then there's her generally caustic demeanor. Additionally, there's her smug smirk that basically assures everyone else in the vicinity that she thinks she's superior to them.
So much about Rogue's behavior irritates Sam. He really wishes she would just be pleasant instead of cold and cynical. Honestly, it wouldn't kill her to look on the bright side every once in a while.
But Rogue is constantly cold and unsympathetic, and Sam begins to wonder if it's really her personality and not an attitude at all.
If Sam ever thought that Rogue would ever show solidarity to him because they were both from the South, he's wrong. She's just as unfriendly to him as she is to anyone else.
Almost a year ago, Sam's father died in a coal mining accident. When Sam suggested that he drop out of high school to get a job, Mrs. Guthrie put her foot down. In the end, Sam did get a job, but a part-time one. So his evenings and weekends were spent in a coalmine, trying to earn enough wages to pull his family through.
After his mother became promoted at work, and a cousin of their father's came down from Minnesota to help them out, life improved for the Guthrie family. But still, they have to be careful of what they spend. They're not exactly rolling in the green stuff, after all.
So when Roberto and Rogue are talking about the fancy new cars they've recieved for their birthdays right in front of him, it's understandable that Sam is a little uncomfortable. He just tries to concentrate harder on his homework in hope that they'll get bored and move on to a different topic.
"My dad wanted me to get a BMW, but he knew that I didn't really like the idea," Roberto tells Rogue, while sketching out the diagram he has to draw for biology. "The only thing that's really important to him is that the car has a high MPG. So I got this black Corvette."
"Not a red leather interior, I hope," Rogue quirked an eyebrow.
Roberto scoffs. "Are you kidding me? I may be a guy, Rogue, but I do have some taste. Red leather seat would be the fugliest thing ever."
Actually, Sam thinks that a black car and a red leather interior would be a good combination. But he's never driven anything but his family's battered pickup truck, let alone bought a car, so he stays quiet.
"I went with a tan leather interior," Roberto continues. "Boring, but I thought it was the best match. What kind of car do you think you'll be getting? Your sixteenth birthday is soon, right?"
"If you can call nine months away soon," Rogue replies, faintly amused. "As far as cars go, I think a Jaguar would be pretty nice. Red, with a black interior."
"Are your parents going to go for that?" Roberto asked.
"My dad is leaning towards a SLK," Rogue says. "But what I really want is a Mustang. It doesn't have to be the latest model, it could even be from the early 2000's. I just want a Mustang."
This response earns an approving nod from Roberto, and Sam uncharitably wonders if Rogue comes from a family with so much money, why they can't pay someone to teach her manners?
He's being unfair, and he knows it. Sam has never has such thoughts about Roberto, but Roberto isn't anything like Rogue. Roberto is friendly, polite, and hard-working. And Rogue is frigid, aloof and sarcastic. Nothing like him at all.
Maybe it's because Sam thinks that someone like Rogue doesn't deserve to com from a wealthy family and not have to worry about expenses all the time.
Of course, Rogue's affluent lifestyle probably played a part in creating her complacent personality today, and that knowledge causes Sam's thoughts to become all the more bitter.
Initially, Sam is disappointed along with the other guys that the girls and the boys have separate dorms.
Later, he becomes grateful when he overhears an argument between Rogue and Kitty about the former's musical tastes.
Apparently, Rogue enjoys play her music on the stereo. Not exceptionally loudly, but Kitty still complains.
Sam understands why when they're in Scott's car and Rogue changes the radio station from Kitty's selection of country to some heavy metal. Sam winces at the screaming guitars, clashing drums and lyrics full of pain, death and angst.
Korn, Garbage, Marilyn Manson, Drowning Pool. Sam can't tell the bands apart, and he doesn't want to. Unfortunately, Rogue's music follows her, whether it be changing the radio station or the ringtone on her latest, hottest, new cell phone.
Once again, Sam inwardly questions "Why?", but he never can figure out an answer.
Sam's mother always told him that while it was tough being a boy, it was tougher being a girl. Sam never understood this before arriving at the Xavier Institute and attending Bayville High School.
Regan Wyngarde is the captain of both the dance team and the field hockey team. Blonde, gorgeous, and wily, she's ready, willing and able to make the lives of other girls at Bayville High miserable.
Unfortunately for Sam, his locker is only about ten feet away from Regan's, so more often than not, he's was a reluctant witness to sessions of her court. These gatherings usually involve Ragan and other pretty, well-dressed girls tormenting an underclassman until she cries with hurt and humiliation, and that's their cue to begin crying with mirth.
Regan Wyngarde, unrepentant bully and Rogue's closest friend.
Thankfully, Sam has never seen Rogue bullying any other students like that, and she's never to be seen during a court session. He doesn't really understand why Rogue and Regan are friends in the first place. The two don't seem to share any common interests whatsoever. While Rogue is colder than an iceberg, she's never cruel or malicious. Without provocation, that is.
Luckily, Regan isn't popular with the residents of the Xavier Institute. Rogue understands this, and always hangs out with Reagan elsewhere.
Sam wishes she wouldn't hang out with Regan at all.
And the one thing he does
1. She's nonjudgmental
"Morally ambiguous" was also a term applicable to Rogue. According to Kitty, Rogue was trained by a supposedly vicious lady mutant named Mystique, so maybe Rogue's wavering ethics are a result of that. Whatever the case, unless the crime is a felony, Rogue doesn't seem totally opposed to committing such.
When she sees Bobby copying math problems from Sam, or hears the two arranging to sneak into a movie theater, she doesn't bat an eye, just returns to her business. Sam has a feeling that the reactions of Jean or Scott would be quite different.
The actions of other people seem to follow the same policy. Rogue never even bothers to raise an eyebrow when she sees the New Mutants trying to evade boredom by plotting some scheme Sam knows is stupid, but goes along with anyway. Unless there's something extremely illogical about their actions (Illogical, not nonsensical), Rogue passes by without comment.
Still, when Sam wheels a motorcross bike into the enormous garage, the bike in good repair but he far from it, he's not happy to see Rogue.
His jeans are ripped open and his knees and elbows scratched, blood trickling down his appendages. His hands won't stop shaking, because he knows that he could have been killed. He meets Rogue's eyes very reluctantly, and sees that her face is suddenly impassive.
"Hey," he greets quietly, wheeling the bike in row with the others. He expects her to make some callous remark about his injuries and the obvious way he sustained them. Sam's in for a surprise, however, because Rogue does not.
"Hey," she replies, walking briskly over to Logan's workbench, lined with tools. She stops by a shelf, pulls down a large metal case with the American Red Cross insignia stamped on the front, and easily carries it back to him. The entire reason the first aid kit is in the garage in the first place is most likely because of him and the rest of the New Mutants. Maybe Dr. McCoy had a point when he told them they were more accident-prone than a Frenchman with a coupon for cigarettes running down a street lined with open maintenance holes.
"Is it just your arms and knees, Sam?" Rogue glances at him noncommittally.
"Yeah," he says.
Rogue joins him on the work board where he's sitting and pops open the first aid kit, removing antiseptic swabs and large band-aid patches.
"This is going to hurt," Rogue warns with a tone of complete indifference.
A shrug is Sam's only response. He's still waiting for her to begin taunting him.
Rogue proceeds clean out the scratches, and Sam winces. She was right; the antiseptic swabs do have a bite to them. At least it's not as bad as the hydrogen peroxide his mother had used on scrapes and scratches when he lived at home.
"It was a mistake," Sam says suddenly.
Rogue pauses in doctoring the wounds he so foolishly gained and glanced at him.
"Really," she says tonelessly.
"Yeah," Sam swallows. "There must've been a rut in the ground, or a hole, or something. I mean, I've done pop-up wheelies dozens of times, and nothing like this has happened to me."
Rogue offers no response, only tears open a band-aid.
"So I figure this must have been a fluke." Sam clenches his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.
The silence on Rogue's behalf continues until she finishes fixing him up.
"Done," she says unceremoniously.
Both stand, Sam feeling much less shaky than before.
"Will they have missed me at dinner?" He asks in what he hopes is a causal tone.
Rogue scoffs. "No. Professor Xavier called an emergency teachers' meeting, and about half the other kids are at the mall and grabbing something to eat there. They've probably lost track of who's doing what. You still might want to invent a cover story about the band-aids, though."
Sam nods. "Thanks, Rogue." He catches her eye, hoping that she understands he's thanking her for not mocking his mistake as well as the help she gave him.
"Anytime," Rogue replies casually.
He walks on towards the mansion, but she doesn't follow, optioning to return to the garage instead.
And when Sam hears the roar of a motorcross bike engine, he can't help but grin.
A/N: In my stories, Rogue's background is slightly AU from the show, it's a combination from Evo, the Exiles, and X-Men: Noir. I have two stories, "Discord" and "Like Mother, Like Daughter" that contribute to her background.
Regan Wyngarde was a character from the comics. She was basically a horrible person only interested in herself, and she and Rogue did not get along. But I think it's interesting to compare and contrast her and Rogue's characters and show that while Regan is malicious, despite all of her sarcasm and cynicism, Rogue is not. "Insomnia" is another one of my stories that's a deeper look into Rogue's relationship with Regan. Reading it might be helpful if their friendship confuses you. She's also mentioned in my fic "Defrosting an Ice Queen".
Let me know what you thought. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.