After watching X-men: First Class, I find it hard to believe that someone like Magneto did not have a huge effect on Rogue's psyche. If she retains the people she's absorbed in her head there has to be some difference with her, even after being able to mentally push them away. There are some things you can't unlearn and I'm pretty sure being experimented on by Nazi scientist is one of them.
Following that vein of logic, this will be AU.


Rogue rises from her bed, gasping and reaching for a mother that wasn't hers. She breathes and almost manages to calm down, but a sob escapes her, and she knows she won't be able to sleep tonight. So she rises, still covered in layers even in her sleep, and walks blindly through the mansion, not quite sure where she's headed.

"I got my revenge," she murmurs softly. The memory of the coin going through his head flashes through her mind, and she calms, absently reaching for it, but then remembers that she's not Magneto, and she's never actually seen the coin either.

"Mother is avenged."

"You're speaking German again."

Rogue jumps, and raises an arm. The metal in the room shakes, but does nothing beyond that and she relaxes when she sees that it's just Logan. Instantly she feels horrible for raising her hand at him.

"Sorry," Rogue apologizes.

"Can't sleep?" Logan asks with a drawl. Rogue shakes her head no. Logan nods and begins to walk, pausing at the stairwell.

"You comin'?"

Rogue blinks before nodding and following.

She can tell from the fact that he's damp that he just had a session in the Danger room and took a shower. Logan had nightmares of his own. She would know- she had his too. They made it to his room, and Rogue had done this enough times now to have her side of the bed, which she laid on immediately. She burrowed into his sheets and breathed in his scent. It always made her feel better.

"Magneto?" Logan asked after a couple minutes.

"Yeah," she answered, calmed enough to speak without a hitch. She tried to talk about them as little as possible, the dreams. They weren't hers. It was bad enough she was having them, Logan didn't need them added on to his own depressing bunch.

Logan grunted, removing his shirt to sleep. It didn't make Rogue uncomfortable, having the knowledge of so much more than just nudity. It always made her feel horrible for knowing such intimate things, but Logan assured her that they weren't women that mattered and that it was the price he was willing to pay to keep her alive. The things that he remembered weren't the ones he cared about after all.

It's been about two weeks since Liberty Island, and she's trying really hard to compartmentalize, but it's a lot harder than one would think. There's two unbelievably strong people in her head who have done so much in their lives that she wonders if there's enough space in her head for it all. She knows Logan feels guilty for giving her his nightmares and that it's one of the reasons he allows her in his bed. She doesn't mind and she's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. It helps to see that there's an actual tangible person and that it's not just a voice in her head. The things she sees are real; memories from someone else's life.

She's always wanted to travel the world, still wants to even after all this, maybe especially after all this. Logan has been all over the United States and Canada, and, sometimes, she can smell the snow, can remember a particular person who had been really nice to the Wolverine despite his less than polite countenance, the scenery, the feel of it all, and she'd love to experience it for herself in her own body and not through someone else's memories. She's not one to live vicariously through someone else.

Then, there's Magneto, whose been all over the world in search of his mother's killer.

All she remembers is the melancholy that garnished everything he ever saw. The disgust with the sights he witnessed, wondering how much blood had been spilled to erect the old lavish buildings. Everything was tainted with a cynical outlook and it made her appreciate the sights all the more, oddly enough. Lives had to have been lost all for the sake of the beauty, and they did not die in vain. Thousands of people visited the sights to admire their hard work after all.

Oh Erik, she mentally sighed wishing she didn't understand why Magneto was the way he was. When she's tired, and worn down from the images, she finds herself agreeing with Magneto. Humans are such vain creatures, ready to kill over anything man deems worthy.

But weren't they exactly the same? They were raised with a human mentality; with morals, manners, and feelings. They were still human after all, with just a little extra added to the package.

Her eyes are bleary with her inner thoughts. They're exhausting enough to cause sleep to rear it's ugly head, but she finds herself unable to succumb to slumber. Still thinking, trying to figure out why she was bothering at all. She wasn't making any headway arguing with the Erik in her head and she doubts she'll ever have a civilized conversation with the real life Magneto, whose probably much more stubborn than the one in her mind and harder to reason with. The man is too set in his ways.

"Sleep, Kid," Logan grunts quietly. His hand sets on her head and strokes it in a comforting way that has her asleep in minutes.