By: Luna Mae
Published On: 6 June 2006
The cave was whispering to him, beckoning him to enter. The crevice was wedged into the side of the cliff that could quite have easily been overlooked by the few that passed it by.
But he knew where to look for it. It first came to him in a vivid dream when he was only a child, but the reoccurrence of the depiction of the cliff for the years that came led him to believe that he was destined to find it. A higher power had chosen him to unlock one of the greatest secrets, untold to mankind.
He was the Chosen One, and he would stand beside his master as he watched him rise to power, armies crumbling before him, countries bowing down to him as though he were the god supreme.
The inside of the chamber held a geometric structure that of the pentagon, but was small and cramped with pictures and ancient writings covering every possible square inch. The man spent hours just attempting to uncover the opening message; just the name of man who was above all mortals; he who had been sealed away in that very location.
The cave was urging him to succeed.
Tiredly, he grinned in triumph as he studied the name before him.En Sabah Nur
The First One.
He had purchased dozens of Harvard textbooks on the study of ancient runes and hieroglyphs just for this event in his life and spent seven nights inside this cave, uncovering and trying to understand the pictographs and clues that his master had hidden so carefully for only his eyes to discover.
Working on the final corner of the room, the explorer was stunned as he studied one of the final messagesTantum Filiolus Es Licitus Ineo
It was Latin, he realised, fascinated. This person—no, god—had been thousands of years ahead of his time! It was positively astounding, he thought.
He dropped his papers and textbooks, placed his palms against the wall and was enveloped in a blinding light.
Before Kurt Wagner, or Nightcrawler as he was once commonly called, had left the United States to return to his home in Germany, Rogue had confronted him about his opinions of God.
She had asked him why God allows so many people to suffer daily while other less deserving people are cushioned and safe from harm. Rogue told him that it wasn't fair.
Mr. Wagner had answered in that amusing German-native tongue of his, "Mother Theresa vonce said, Gott does not give me more zan I can handle. I just vish he didn't trust me so much. Perhaps Gott trusts you very much, ne?" Mr. Wagner, like many others, had known how much trouble she had with her powers.
Rogue laughed darkly, "Or maybe he just doesn't trust me at all," He would forever deny her the pleasure and consequences of trust.
Mr. Wagner left the institute nearly two weeks after Jean Grey's first death. On the day of his departure, Rogue realised that the man who called himself Nightcrawler had left her a small wrapped gift on her dresser. It wasn't done up in ribbons or bows and she easily lifted the lid and poured out the box's contents into her gloved palm.
It was his rosary.
Inside the box was a small message that read: God does not forsake any of his children.
The gesture made her smile softly, but when the opportunity of The Cure first presented itself, Marie had nearly jumped at the chance to be rid of her god-forsaken powers.
Perhaps Gott trusts you very much, ne?
Kurt had been able to accept himself for who he was, blue fur, tail and skin and all, but Rogue could not.
She learned after several months of living at the Xavier's Institute that there was more to her powers than she had originally expected. Professor X had taken her aside from her classes one day to give her a full evaluation of her powers after she had begun to have major migraines.
The feels-like-there's-a-sledgehammer-pounding-away kind of migraines.
Professor Xavier had informed her headaches were psyche residues, or slivers of personalities of the people she had absorbed. They developed just as she did, and had opinions just as she did, they were still people; they just lived in her mind.
"They will always be with you, Rogue," the professor said softly, "They're a part of you now,"
Rogue didn't want the company.
They were loud and obnoxious and sometimes she could catch their voices like they were whispers around the corner. Rogue had nearly broke down and cried when she went to the Professor for help.
"They're developing with your mutation," he told her, "It's part of a growing up,"
"Can I get rid of them?" she asked desperately.
He shook his head, "No, but I may be able to set up a barrier like I did for Jean," at the time, Rogue hadn't understood what he meant, "It should be fairly less complicated,"
For the next several months, hours were taken out of her daily schedule for meditation time with Professor Xavier to set up a nearly solid (so to speak) barrier to keep the psyches, as he called them, from interfering with her daily life.
Rogue had nearly perfected her "shield" as they called it by the time she had given up and chose The Cure instead.
Perhaps it was because Rogue felt like she had tirelessly worn the role of the damsel in distress. She had failed to do anything productive when people like Magneto used her own powers against herself, the X-Men, and the United Nation's members on Liberty Island. Or perhaps it was because of a boy, like Logan had suspected. Maybe she had been afraid of losing Bobby; the one form of stability she had in her life.
But then there were days when Rogue felt like she could spend hours just sitting in the perfect quietness in her room.
Even with her powers gone, she had always worried that Bobby would only stick around until someone better came along. She had his memories from the brief physical contacts they shared together and Rogue knew that Bobby was a good person with equally as good intentions. She knew that he would never hurt her, which was why she didn't want to hurt him in return.
He wasn't happy in their relationship like he once had been before, so they agreed to break things off one month ago, if only for the time being. It had only been two months after Jean Grey's second untimely death. Rogue's losses kept her in daily depressions, but this time with no Bobby to help her through things like he had before. He was still a friend, but he had his own problems.
Ororo had taken over their X-Men and Xavier Institute with, oddly enough, Logan right beside her to help. He had decided to settle down and take over some classes: mechanics, P.E., defensive combat and, to much amusement all around, art. It felt good having Logan close by, even though he was often busy or occupied, because no matter how much he denied it, he was Rogue's father figure.
Rogue was going home. She was a senior student at Xavier's and as soon as she graduated, Rogue had decided on taking a motorcycle (preferably Logan's) down to Mississippi to clear the air with her parents and maybe even Cody if she could muster the courage. She hadn't exactly left any of them on good terms. She had always wanted to take her own road trip, she had told Bobby once.
Again, it was nearly three months after the death of Jean, Scott, and the Professor when everyone was out in the backyard for a mutant field day or something just as equally ridiculous, she thought, when there came a knock on the mansion's door.
Knocking on the front door was a strange occurrence. Bullets, shattering glass, or even that rarely used depressing gong-like doorbell was what was usually expected in a school for mutants. Knocking on the front door was, well, almost too normal.
It was Rogue who answered, since she had decided against the day's festivities, "Hello?" she said, opening the door.
"Hey," a woman with short blonde hair and misty blue eyes answered, "This Mutant High?"
Rogue bristled only slightly at the name, "Yeah, come on in," She held the door open wider and allowed the girl to enter, briefly wondering how she had made it over the locked gates with two matching Burberry suitcases at hand. "You looking for a person or place to stay?" A standard question, but by looking at the suitcases, Rogue had her suspicions.
The girl was looking down the hallways that Rogue was leading her down with an approving look, "I just need a place to crash for a while,"
Rogue slowed her pace to a near halt, "This isn't a hotel, you know,"
The girl rolled her eyes, "I'm just having some trouble with my powers and the military won't accept me until I can harness them better," she snapped.
They remained silent once they resumed their walk to Ororo's new office.
"Sooo, where to, Goth-gal?" She asked.
Clenching her fists, Rogue answered tightly, "Well, for one, I'm taking you to get registered, and two, I'm not gothic,"
"If you're not gothic, then why do you where so much black?"
Rogue was growing more and more impatient with this woman as she answered, "Maybe because I'm in mourning," It was true. More black seemed to be added to her wardrobe ever since the incident at Alkali Lake.
She looked surprised, "Really? Who died?"
The blatant honestly and almost rude attitude was clearly annoying Rogue, "Three of our professors."
Neither spoke another world until they reached the office and the woman dropped her suitcases and helped herself to a chair. Rogue shifted through papers and pulled out a blank registration form. Leaning against the desk, Rogue clicked open a pen, "Name?"
"Carol Danvers. That's C-A-R—"
"I've got it, thanks," Rogue said curtly, "Birthday?"
"Mom and step-dad. Allison and David Danvers."
"What's your mutation?" Rogue always hated this part.
"Um, scientifically? I don't really know. But I can fly, I've got super strength, and I'm invincible," she grinned, "Oh! And there's kind of another one. You know how, like, in the Spiderman movies Peter Parker always knows when something's coming up from behind him? It's kind of like that,"
"A sixth sense?"
Carol scrunched her nose, "No way! I don't see dead people!"
"Right, sorry," Rogue rolled her eyes as she scribbled out her information on the papers. They were great powers to have, she though enviously. She was the regular super-girl.
The interview continued in a similar manner for another five minutes and Rogue escorted Carol to her room that she would be sharing with two other girls and dropped off her luggage before taking her on the basic tour of the school. She told Carol that she would probably be able to join in the regular classes in a day or so, or at least until the school could set up her syllabus. They had nearly finished when Carol caught a glimpse of the backyard through a window.
"Hey, let's go outside!"
Rogue grunted, but slowly followed.
The school was playing a game of mutant softball and few even noticed their appearance.
Carol nudged her, "Who's the hot guy showing that kid how to bat?" she asked, grinning widely.
Rogue turned and stared numbly, "You mean Logan?"
"Boyfriend?" asked Carol.
"Hardly," she snorted, "The man's practically my father,"
"So I suppose it would be totally awkward if I were to date him, right?"
There was something not so deep within Rogue that made he want to strangle Carol as she attempted to get over her audacity, "He's still in love with one of the professors that died a couple months ago,"
"Bummer," said Carol, not noticing how red Rogue's face was turning.
The week seemed only to go down hill from there. Everyone was so enthralled by the resident super-girl who didn't hesitate to demonstrate her powers or tell stories about her stepfather in the military. Rogue never had stories like that to tell. Somehow she didn't think telling everyone about Magneto's attempt to kill her would merit much laughter or favouritism like Carol's stories did.
Rogue watched enviously as Carol zoomed about the mansion like she owned the place, challenged Piotr to arm wrestling contests, and proved to everyone that no force on earth could injure her.
Soon enough, Carol was joining everyone in self-defence classes. This was something in particular that Rogue had been rather apprehensive about. Because of her lack of useful power, she had signed up for as many martial arts and self-defence classes that the school offered after Logan left to search for his past in Alkali Lake almost a year ago. She had secretly hoped that he would be proud of her upon his return, because she had only ever had few be impressed or proud of her before, especially now more than ever because of her lack of mutant power.
She was in the mansion's backyard with about fifty other students including Carol for another lesson in physical combat being taught by Logan. Other than the Danger Room that was currently occupied, only the ballroom could hold that many students for self-defence lessons; it felt like the classes were only getting bigger with the lack of professors.
Rogue always volunteered to assist Logan in his classes just to prove that even though he powers were gone, she was not powerless.
However, on that particular day, Rogue found herself face flat on the ground with Logan twisting her arm.
"You dropped your weight to quickly, Stripes. Wait until you get a better angle next time," he said to her, pulling Rogue to her feet. Then more loudly, he addressed the class, "Who can tell me her mistakes?"
She hated when she made mistakes. She hated it even more so when others pointed them out to her, reminding her that she wasn't perfect. Rogue made a conscious effort to close her ears to their comments.
"Rogue?" said Logan, pulling her out of her reverie, "I want you to pair up with Carol, it looks like she's struggling a bit,"
She didn't want to.
"Sure, no problem," said Rogue and then did what she was told. Pulling Carol away from the rest of the group, she said, "I think you're main problem is that you tend to favour—"
"Can Mr. Logan help me instead?" Carol asked, looking over Rogue's shoulder.
"No," she gritted, "He's teaching the rest of the class. He asked me to help you because you were lagging behind."
She blinked and then chuckled a bit, "Oh, then I wouldn't have totally blown those last few exercises if I had known he wasn't going to help."
Rogue swallowed angrily, but said, quite coolly, "So you know how to fight then?"
"A blue belt in karate!" she answered back proudly.
"That's a bit beyond this beginners course," Rogue said, a plan on how to let out her frustrations quickly forming.
"You any good?" Carl asked slyly.
Rogue shrugged vaguely, "I get on well enough,"
They said nothing, silently sizing up the other until Logan called over, "Get moving, you two!"
"Well I'm a bit bored with all of this kitty stuff," Carol decided, "Why don't we warm up a bit for real?"
Rogue gave Carol her very first grin of the day, getting into a fight stance as did Carol. She wasted no time with a quick frontal assault that Rogue was able to easily dodge and delivered a kick of her own that hit Carol in the side.
They were testing boundaries. Everything was slightly more than predictable, a kick, a punch, and a dodge here and there. They were mixing common street scraps that they each had picked up on their own, and refined martial arts that they had studied.
Logan had yet to notice that Carol was quite adept to self-defence as he was attempting to fix a younger girl's posture.
Carol and Rogue's fight was sporting fine and minimal injuries were sustained. Rogue was even impressed to see Carol reigning in her mutant power advantages, but she always seemed to be a step ahead.
"So you're the resident vampire, huh?" said Carol as she ducked another jab. Rogue faltered and Carol was able to nail her in the stomach, "Or at least you were until you got The Cure, so I've heard. And you're also the chick who almost killed Mr. Logan, right?" Another falter on Rogue's part and another kick delivered from Carol. "So how come you lose your powers and you still get to stay here?"
"I've got friends here," she was able to grunt out.
Carol contemplated this fact, "Huh," was all she said, still fighting amiably, "You know, you look awfully uptight."
"Okay," Rogue answered shortly.
"Well now that you've ditched your powers, why don't you just get a boyfriend? You look like you could due with a little corruption,"
Rogue couldn't help but blush as Carol ignorantly picked apart her personality. She twisted her body and dropped out of the hold Carol had and set up her arm in a ninety-degree angle to block what promised to be a painful punch.
She smirked, "And some hair dye, hun. I find it hard to believe that you're not gothic,"
"I'm—not—gothic, hun," Rogue sneered and sent forth a rather powerful left hook.
Carol stumbled back, a hand to her jaw, looking impressed, "Alright! Now that we've finally got some attitude from the girl, let's spice things up a bit, yeah?"
"Rogue! Carol!" Logan had finally noticed them.
She had a hard time believing that Carol had even more power and stamina behind her; Rogue had been going at her at full force.
Carol managed to tackle her to the ground and Rogue suspected the used of her powers as she was pinned to the ground with unusual ease. Carol had her Rogue's wrists pinned to the ground near her head.
"Both you!" Logan yelled, becoming increasingly bothered, moving towards the crowd of onlookers, "Let go now!"
But Carol was in control. She had saddled her too high and Rogue couldn't kick her off. "Come on, you don't need him to save you," her eye skirted over where Logan was hurriedly pushing through the crowd.
"Let go," Rogue choked out, something painful was stirring in her chest and she wasn't quite sure what.
"Jeez, I expected so much more from a girl who calls herself The Rogue. You're making it too easy for me, babe!"
Rogue blinked back tears, "Carol," she gasped out, "Let go!"
Suddenly, Carol didn't look so confident. She looked like she was being drained of all her energy and. Like her powers were being painfully torn away from her body.
"Let go!" Rogue sobbed. It was just like Liberty Island, "Please!"
Both girls screamed out in anguish.
It wasn't until Logan pulled back Carol's unconscious body was Rogue able to stumble backwards on her feet, holding her wrists to her chest as though she had been badly burnt.
Her legs gave out from underneath her.
As she lost consciousness, she was sure of one thing:
Her powers had returned.
"I just touched him…" she sobbed.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
"Where am I supposed to go?" she asked, sounding annoyed. She hadn't expected for him to dump her on the side of the road.
"I don't know," he threw her stuff in the snow.
"You don't know, or you don't care?" she asked.
"I saved your life!"
"No you didn't,"
"I'm not gonna hurt you kid," the man said but Rogue couldn't help but be doubtful of the man who shot knives out of his knuckles.
She shook her head, "It's nothing personal. It's just that, when people touch my skin, something happens,"
She shrugged, "I don't know, they just get hurt."
He shrugged as well, "Fair enough. So, what kind of name is Rogue?"
"I don't know," she admitted, "What kind of name is Wolverine?
"My name is Logan," For some reason, the name seemed to suit him well.
"America was going to be the land of tolerance. Peace," Magneto told her.
Rogue asked him suddenly, "Are you going to kill me?"
He turned around completely, almost surprised that she had asked for he had assumed that it was implied, "Yes,"
"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered as their classmates snickered.
She ran up to Logan and embraced him in a tight hug, careful to avoid any skin contact.
"Who's this guy?" he asked, sounding rather fatherly.
She grinned, "This is Bobby, he's my..."
"I'm her boyfriend," he said for her and shook Logan's hand, "Call me Iceman," Rogue rolled her eyes and pretended not to notice his possessiveness.
"Boyfriend?" he said suspiciously, "So how do you guys...?
Bobby and Marie exchanged looks.
"Well, we're still working on that," said Bobby, looking embarrassed.
"Have you ever wanted to be with someone so badly, but you can't?" Rogue recalled Bobby saying from a memory she absorbed, "I've seen how you look at Professor Grey…"
Logan's head snapped up, "Excuse me?"
Bobby walked into the guest room with some long-sleeved clothes at hand, "I found some of my Mom's old clothes. I think they're from before I was born."
Rogue smirked, "Groovy,"
"You don't seem fine," he followed her out of the room, "You seem like you're avoiding me, I mean something's wrong."
Marie whirled around angrily, "What's wrong is I can't touch my boyfriend without killing him," she snapped, "Other than that I'm wonderful.
Bobby folded his arms defensively, "Hey, I don't think that's fair. Have I ever put any pressure on you?"
"You're a guy Bobby," she said, pulling a face, "Your mind's only on one thing.
"I'm not your father, kid,"
She stood as Bobby opened the door, "I'm sorry, I had to..."
He looked so unsure of what to say, "This isn't what I wanted,"
"I know," she smiled softly, taking his hand, "It's what I want."
And it was.
The lights of the Med Bay were straining to her eyes as she woke up alone in the room. The monitors were beeping steadily, showing her that her vitals were just fine.
"Hello?" she said into the barren room, hoping for an answer.
Why was she in the Med Bay…?
Rogue quickly pulled off the wires attached to her major pulse points and temples, groaning at the screaming machine that wasn't receiving any feed. She slid out of bed and into her shoes, having the full intention of looking for some one who could explain what was going on.
As she approached the main level, she glanced at a clock that told her everyone was more than likely still asleep at the hour.
Her stomach growled, alerting her that she could do with some food sometime in the near future. Rogue made herself a standard peanut butter and jelly sandwich like she did everyday with a tall glass of milk. The jelly was grape, but required Rogue to fervently wash the stickiness off of her hands.
Some one was near the doorway, she realised, not quite sure how she knew, but turned around in her chair.
"Hey, Logan," she said calmly.
"Hey, yourself," He answered, lifting his head in recognition, "Why aren't you in the Med Bay?" he asked, leaning against the doorway.
Rogue frowned. She felt fine; never better actually.
"I…don't know," she answered honestly. Another set of footsteps was heard running down the hall.
"Logan—" Ororo called out frantically.
"I've found her, Storm," Logan said over his shoulder, not breaking eye contact with Rogue, "She's in the kitchen,"
Since when had she been missing…?
Ororo quickly joined them.
"Rogue, are you alright?" she asked immediately.
"I'm fine," she answered defensively, "Why wouldn't I be?"
Logan and Ororo exchanged nervous glances hat increased Rogue's worry as she slowly put down the sandwich and stood.
"You've been unconscious since yesterday, Rogue," said Logan looking at her with concern.
"Don't you remember what happened?" Ororo asked.
"Remember wha—?" Rogue suddenly let out a startled and painful gasp and clutched her head, knocking over her glass that shattered on contact with the floor.
"Of course you would forget me!" a voice yelled at her.
"Forget who?" Rogue yelled back from her knees as Logan and Ororo surrounded her.
"Marie, what's going—?"
"You've only ruined my life!" It was Carol's voice, Rouge realised, shocked. She could hear her inside her head.
"I'm sorry!" Her face was streaked with tears and she tried to shake her head furiously.
"Rogue? Rogue, what's happening?" she could make out Ororo's voice over the memory of the physical fight between her and Carol as her power's painful return.
"It's Carol," Rogue gasped out, dragging her unprotected hands behind her ears trying to shut out the pain, "She—she's in…my head,"
"Fight her, Rogue!" she heard Logan command and brace her shoulders.
"I-I can't," she sobbed hysterically, "She's too strong!"
Ororo placed her hands onto of Rogue's head, protected by her hair and said to her, "Shut her out, Rogue. Put up a mental barrier like the professor taught you!" Ororo must have gone through Professor Xavier's files.
Rogue made incomprehensible noises as she attempted to shut Carol out as her old psyches invaded her mind as well, "I can't!" she cried out before flying through the glass windows and pummelled to the ground, leaving a crater of an imprint on the lawn.
Perhaps Gott trusts you very much, ne?
This time waking up in the Med Bay was more surreal. Rogue remembered everything from her fight with Carol to the incident in the kitchen with Logan and Ororo.
She had succeeded in locking Carol out of her mind, just as she did with the psyches.
Rogue blinked at the lights in the ceiling and tilted her head up as she heard footsteps enter her room.
"Hey," Ororo said softly, sitting at the foot of her bed, "How you feeling?"
She attempted to sit up.
"Take it easy, kid, you don't' want to strain yourself," said Logan, but Marie sat up regardless.
"How long was I out for?" she croaked out.
"Almost five days," said Mr. McCoy from the doorway as he walked up to her bed. "We put you under a medically-induced coma to let your body unconsciously repair itself after The Cure's effects and allow your DNA to readjust itself. I'm afraid I had to contact Worthington Labs and inform them that their so-called cure was only temporary and I'm also afraid that it led to a press conference regarding your current status."
"Which is?" she asked weakly.
"We believe that Carol was somehow able to put you under impressible stress that trigged your dormant mutation, much similar to the first time your powers surfaced. Am I correct?"
More than he knew.
Rogue nodded, "Yes,"
"The labs and the media had to be informed on The Cure's affect after a certain amount of time since it was injected. You were more with the second wave of mutants who took it, but you're actually the first one to have the medication deteriorate," Of course it had to be her, she thought miserably, "However, as of yesterday, more and more counts of mutations re-manifesting have been reported. The sudden genetic return of the mutant trait has caused a sort of an evolutionary rush on the body. Many mutants who had taken The Cure," his voice was more sombre, "did not survive the DNA retransformation or their powers have jumped to another level beyond their control. Those supporting and those opposed to The Cure have become more violent and enraged. I'm afraid that you've cause quite a public ruckus."
"Sorry," she apologised monotonously.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Rogue," Logan interrupted sharply, "This is science and Worthington Labs' fault for not knowing the long term effects and consequences."
Rogue was finally able to ask, "What happened to Carol?"
Everyone was silent and looked between each other warily. It was an obvious sign that Rogue would regret asking.
"Because of Ms. Danver's invincible mutant power," Mr. McCoy started off slowly, "She didn't begin to realise your powers resurfacing until you both were to weak to move. You, by the sudden mental assault, and Carol due to the sudden lack of physical power."
"But what happened to her?" said Rogue again quickly.
"Remember when were in the kitchen and you started yelling about Carol attacking you're mind?"
Rogue nodded. How could she possibly forget?
"We…we think," she continued, "that you absorbed Carol. Entirely,"
Rogue stared at her like she had grown an extra head.
"Its like," Ororo tried again, "When you absorb some one, and you understand how they're usually just knocked out for a couple of hours?"
Rogue nodded numbly.
"It's like that…but more permanent," she looked visibly exhausted with bags under her eyes. It had been a particularly tough couple of months for her. "Her body has been in a comatose state ever since your defence class and she had no brain activity, so we believe that the entire Carol persona is…in your mind," she finished slowly, taking in a deep breath, bracing herself for Rogues' reaction.
No one responded. No one agreed with her, but no one denied it either.
"We're fairly confident that the theory is correct since Logan and Ororo saw your display of Ms. Danver's powers in the kitchen several nights ago," said Mr. McCoy, "You were able to fly from the floor and through bullet-proof windows with out shattering bones or even receiving any wounds and made a fairly sized dent in the lawn. I'd say nearly six feet deep." He said. It gave Rogue the want to go back there and stay six feet under. "So, in theory, yes, you should have Ms. Danver's powers permanently now, until otherwise is said."
Rogue was on the verge of tears and looked over to Logan for support.
"Don't worry, kid," he said in an unusual soft voice that lacked his usual edgy tone, "You should be out of here in a couple of days. Rest up,"
She swallowed, not wanting anyone to see her cry, and nodded her head.
"Get some sleep, okay" Ororo said, patting her foot as she watched Rogue hold back the urge to sniff or wipe her eyes.
The adults left the room and some time later was Rogue finally graced with the gift of a dreamless sleep.
The next day Rogue awoke to find that some one had brought her a large breakfast that she all but attacked as soon as she dragged the tray onto her bed. Rogue also saw a pile of magazines on the floor and she was desperately bored.
Once again removing all of the wires and medical equipment, (Ororo could yell at her later), and pushed them out of the room when their alarms began going off due to the lack of response, she crawled out of bed and heaved the pile of newspapers and magazines onto the sheets and made herself comfortable. Rogue made sure Carol was still securely on the outside of the mind like the professor had taught her, but she could sill hear the distant hum of her voice and the constant assault on her shield.
Rogue was disgusted when she flipped though the magazine and newspaper selections to see that not only was her unconscious face on the cover of that week's New York Times, but also Scientific America and the Monthly Medical magazine. The Cure's failure needed a covergirl, and Rogue, apparently, must've made the perfect candidate.
Furiously, Rogue threw them all off of the bed and brought her knees into her chest.
She caught two of the younger students peeking in around the corner of her room and whispered amongst themselves all the way down the hall and up to the main lobby once Rogue angrily shoo-ed them away.
Oh yes, she thought definitely, as soon as she graduated she was out of this place.
A/N: All right, so there's the first whopper of a chapter for you! What do you think so far? How's the mood? The setting? Plot reference?
Have any ideas? Opinions? Suggestions?
Drop a line!
Would I be considered weird if I were to say that I liked writing Carol's character? lol
Next Chapter: Warren Worthington's point of view!
Love From Luna