Chapter Text
CHAPTER 5: STUPID
Rogue hugged her coat tightly around her. This dress was really too thin for this coat. She had been cold earlier, even with the engine running and heat blowing in her direction.
Now her teeth were practically chattering.
Shouldn't invulnerability protect against cold? she grumbled inwardly.
She felt a coat wrap around her shoulders and started. She looked up into a pair of concerned red and black eyes.
She studied the coat, surprised.
When had everyone else arrived?
Had she just been lost in her thoughts?
In a way, that was a victory. She and her thoughts hadn't been alone together for a long time.
Just these thoughts ain't such good ones.
"Could see you shiverin' the second we got on the Blackbird."
"Sorry."
"No need to be sorry. Any better now?"
Gambit fixed the coat collar.
"Thank you."
"Half expected you to take off."
"I'm sure you weren't the only one."
She could practically feel the various sets of eyes on her.
"You alright?"
"Gambit, you don't have to keep helpin' me."
"Remy. I'm happy to help. 'Sides, that's what friends are for."
"I don't have any friends. And I'm not sure I even like you."
"That's fine. Got plenty o' friends who don't like me."
She snorted.
"Wouldn't go 'round advertising that, Cajun."
She scraped her shoe against the floor of the plane.
"You really didn't already know?"
"Know 'bout what?"
"Erik. Magneto. And me."
He shook his head.
She eyed him suspiciously.
"Even with all that 'diggin'?"
"Non. Contact said you went off the grid."
"Huh. Guess the Savage Land counts as off the grid."
Ah.
Remy nodded.
"Oui, it does. That where you met?"
She nodded.
"Sure is."
Everyone walked into the meeting room, all still in evening wear.
Rogue glided in, though her expression was that of someone who knew she was walking to her execution.
She sat, her head held surprisingly high, and everyone took their seats around her.
"We're gonna need to know what that was, kid." Logan held up a hand, effectively silencing Scott. "Before anyone says anything else."
Rogue nodded.
"I know."
"You called it 'intel'?"
"Couldn't think o' a better word."
"Are you and Erik Lenscherr working together?" Ororo's voice was cold.
Rogue gave her a mirthless smile.
"No."
"You are connected in some way, though. Why didn't you share?"
"Because it's nobody's business."
"Unfortunately, it's team business now," Scott said firmly.
"We gotta know if there's any more skeletons fixin' to jump outta your closet, chere."
"You got any more fixin' to jump outta yours, Cajun?" she snapped before turning back to the others.
She shook her head at him.
"You think I'm compromised." It wasn't a question.
"Not necessarily. But you see why we might think that?" Scott pointed out.
She nodded.
"I'm not."
He was surprised she hadn't ground her molars to dust.
"Erik. Magneto. He's the only person in the world who can touch me."
Remy saw some eyebrows go up around the room.
"We met in the Savage Land. It was a lil while after I left the Brotherhood. I was all on my own. Then, he found me. It was a bad situation. I didn't know it at the time. Should have, but I didn't. Which I should really get on a T-shirt. Always been told I'm a lil too trustin', and I was lonely and scared. And he was nice to me at just the right time." She shrugged. "My powers weren't workin' there, and then he figured out he could do somethin' with his powers anyway that even when mine came back…"
"Hang on. You-" Bobby began.
"Yes. We did."
Rogue stared him down, her jaw set.
"I don't talk 'bout it. Ever. 'Specially to a team o' people I barely know."
"But you understand-"
"Yes, I understand. "
Remy snuck glances at the people around him. A few faces were still skeptical, but he also saw some expressions softening, even some beginning to guess where this might be going.
"He knew exactly what to tell me. The way some people tell their kids they're the best at vacuumin' or somethin' so the kid does it. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I thought I was real special. Course I was. No one else was there but us. Still, listenin' to him talk, bein' 'round him more. Couldn't keep noticin' only the good. Even when he has ideas that start out like they make sense, he's a terrible person. He was a terrible person to me. I wanted to stop." She gritted her teeth. "He didn't."
Remy heard a few gasps around him.
"Didn't have my super strength back yet. I guess y'all wouldn't call it mine," she said bitterly. "So maybe y'all don't think I had a right to, but I couldn't protect myself the way I can now. It was like that for a long time."
Fuck.
Rogue cleared her throat, fidgeting with one of her bangles.
"Got out as soon as there was a chance. He kept findin' me no matter where I went. Kept sendin' me shit like it would get me to come back. This dress was all I kept. Shoulda sent it back, too. Not even sure why I didn't."
Her eyes were red, but she seemed to be defying tears to fall.
"Ain't seen him in a long time. 'Til tonight."
She blew out a long breath.
"Don't think he was there tonight 'cause o' me, but I got no idea what he's up to. Saw him and just wanted to hide."
"It is a good thing Gambit was able to help you."
"Yes. I appreciated it." She clenched her fists, as though girding herself. "I'm guessin' most o' y'all don't believe half o' this. But it's the truth. And if you do believe me, you can see why I don't much like talkin' bout it."
"Does Charles know?" Jean asked.
"Hasn't said anythin' 'bout it to me. But he must know, seein' as he's been inside my head. I know y'all will probably ask him. If he puts up a fuss, tell him I said he can share."
Past (Savage Land)
"There you are, dearest," Erik looked up, glancing behind Rogue at the orange and purple sky. "It's getting late. I was worried."
"Sorry 'bout that. Musta been dawdlin' without realizin' it. Didn't do anythin' different." She snorted. "Maybe Carol wanted to go on a walk."
She hung their wet clothing on a makeshift clothesline.
"Least we'll have somethin' to wear tomorrow."
"I rather like it this way." He grinned at her.
They'd been naked together before, always on washing day, but passing time had shifted something in the air.
Erik hadn't said anything about it, but she could see the way he looked at her, the way he stared more blatantly now. He liked touching her shoulder, stroking her hair, even putting a hand on her hip, and he was starting to let his hands linger.
On the days when their clothing dripped dry, he would often get hard when they were just sitting and talking, though neither of them mentioned it.
Even now, she could see that he was partially aroused, though she tried not to look, tried not to stand too close as he leaned in to kiss her.
"You're a dear for doing that. I don't know how you do it, but they almost seem like they've been through a washer when you do them."
"Oh. I just give 'em a good scrub on the rocks. Just takes a lil elbow grease."
"Well, apparently it takes some magic of yours as well."
He pointed to a small spread of fruits and nuts by the fire, as well as some sort of creature that she'd caught earlier. He'd roasted it for them, which she appreciated, and it was steaming and ready to eat.
"Bon appétit."
He peered into the jug they'd made to store water.
"We're getting low on this. I'll have to take care of it tomorrow."
"No need. I already know the best spring, and it's easy enough for me to boil."
He pulled her closer and kissed her again.
"You're so precious. I hope you know that."
Her face felt warm.
"Thank you."
"Dearest, have a seat. There's something we need to talk about."
"Alright."
She sat next to him, but he shook his head.
He patted his lap.
"Oh, but you're-"
"Yes, I am nude, as they say."
She made a face.
"As who says?"
He gave her a tap on the nose.
"Like I said, precious."
He patted his thigh again, and by the time she was seated on it, he was hard.
"I know you can see what you do to me."
She felt herself shiver.
"We haven't talked about it before, but I wish you could understand what it's like to watch you here. This place is paradise, in its own way, but you're so beautiful, some days I can only look at you. Do you believe me?"
She studied his eyes.
They were almost silver, they were so pale, and yet, somehow, they were vibrant and seemed to sparkle. His pupils were dilated, and he swallowed hard as he looked her up and down.
"Has anyone ever touched you before? I know that is a complicated question with your powers."
"No."
He took her hand and placed it on his hard cock.
"You feel this? This is what you do to me. All the time. Sometimes looking at you is almost enough to get me all the way."
"I don't believe that," she giggled.
"Why would I lie?"
He moved her hand to his tip, which was leaking, and he swirled her fingertips against him before pulling her hand up.
"Taste me. I want to see it."
She looked him in the eye again, licking her finger and putting on when she guessed was a seductive face.
"Incredible."
He moved her hand back down, guiding her and showing her how to stroke him.
He grinned.
"You're a natural."
"Yeah?"
He nodded.
"You can already tell—ungh—just what I like."
She swirled her fingertips against his tip again, and he groaned.
He pulled her in, kissing her harder.
He stood, startling her.
They had created a sort of platform, a sort of makeshift shelf, and he swept the few things sitting on it onto the ground.
He placed her onto the platform, spreading her knees as wide as they would go.
"What are you-"
"I want to look at you, dearest."
He stared unabashedly.
"Do you ever touch yourself? You can, you know, while you're here with me. If you ever start to feel wet, I won't mind if you touch yourself. You could put your fingers inside yourself and feel what it's like. I bet your pussy is nice and tight, too. I think we should make sure she is good and wet, don't you?"
Her face felt warm at that.
She looked away, feeling shy and embarrassed.
She probably shouldn’t, but she did.
"Don't be shy, dearest. You're beautiful."
He stroked her gently with a finger, and she yelped.
"Shh. It's alright. We'll figure out just what you like. Do you trust me?"
She nodded.
He slid a finger inside her, beginning to pump it slowly in and out.
"I knew you'd be wet and tight. Dearest, you're soaking."
Was she?
She could feel her heart pounding.
She guessed this felt… good? It didn't hurt, but it felt strange.
"You can't imagine what you look like."
He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples and sucking hard.
"Mmmm so good," he moaned. "Wanted this since I found you. Mmm."
He pulled back, looking at her face.
"But maybe you want your pussy licked. Have you ever imagined what that might feel like?"
Again, her face felt warm. She nodded.
"You little minx. I knew it. You think I should give her that? Would she like that?"
She bit back a sour expression.
Her?
Carol seemed to roll her eyes.
Rogue nodded.
Ain't gonna be someone who judges after choices I made.
"Yes." Was this a sexy voice?
She figured he might start slowly, but he dove in, licking and sucking and moaning loudly.
"You taste divine… mmmmhhh…. Heaven. I could do this all day."
He did who knows what, but this time she felt a sort of zing, and her body gave a small twitch.
"You feel that dearest? That's your clit. Mmmmmhhhh delicious…"
He slid a finger in again, this time pumping it into her with more force. She could feel something sharp—maybe his nail—and she gasped and squirmed.
"I recognize those sounds."
He must be putting more fingers inside her because she felt more pressure, not quite to the point of pain, but close.
Suddenly he yanked his fingers out, making her gasp.
He tossed her onto the ground, spreading her knees, and driving into her in one thrust.
She cried out in surprise and gritted her teeth.
He pounded into her from above, making the same sorts of noises that a stray terrier in Caldecott County always made when he knocked up Mrs. Wilchester's poodles.
"Fuck. You feel so good. Fuck."
He flipped her onto her knees suddenly, and she felt like a rotisserie chicken.
This angle did hurt, and she clenched her fists. Each time she cried out, he went harder, and when she shifted forward to reduce the impact, he tugged her back.
"You're so beautiful like this. Mmmmhhh. Tell me how much you like this, dearest. I want to hear you."
She groaned in pain, but it worked for him.
"Let's make you come, love. That pussy's been working hard today. Let's make her come."
He sat up, lifting her and impaling her with his cock. Before she'd even settled, his hands were on her hips, and he was bouncing her up and down. One of his hands was rubbing the spot he'd called her clit, and she felt the sharp point again.
"Come on, love. That pussy wants to be happy. Come on."
Rogue didn't know exactly how to help it with that, but she decided she'd copy a scene she'd seen in a movie once, and she clenched around him really tightly, since maybe that was what he was expecting.
"Yesssss…. Dearest…. Yessss…. That's just what she wants. Yes, ride me just like that. Yesssssss."
After a moment, he tossed her onto her back again, slamming against her and making more terrier noises in her ear.
"You're so beautiful—unghhh—yessss."
Finally, he shuddered and groaned loudly, and then he went boneless on top of her.
She stared at the ceiling of their makeshift tent.
Hmm.
He suddenly pulled back.
"Sorry, love. I just couldn't hold back. You felt too good."
"Huh?"
Oh fuck.
"I tried to pull out in time, but you felt so good, I couldn't."
"Oh. Well. That's alright."
She bit the inside of her cheek.
It wasn't really alright, but if she said that, what then?
He pulled her onto his lap.
"I'll be more careful next time, love. I know you like to be responsible."
"Okay. Thank you."
It occurred to her that Carol had quieted down, which was unusual. Still, she felt something settling in her belly, a tightness in her chest. Like she was disappointed, disgusted. With herself, but also not with herself.
"How are you feeling? Flushed, I see. I'll take that to mean you enjoyed yourself."
She mentally shook herself, smiling, nodding.
"You're very good at that for a beginner. Like I said, truly a natural. Something tells me you'll be a natural in other ways as well."
She felt a wave of pride crashing through her.
It was so damn rare that anyone thought she was good at something.
And somehow she was good at this.
Stupid girl, someone said inside her head.
She ignored them.
Rogue's awakening came slowly.
But she had always been accused of that. Trusting too early, too deeply. Always the wrong people. Always overlooking the bad.
She couldn't do that forever. Not here, where there were no distractions. No other people.
And there was always Carol. Shouting at her, occasionally shouting at him. She could ignore her sometimes, knew by now that Carol often briefly faded away when Erik was inside her.
Rogue thought she probably enjoyed it. She didn’t hate it. Though they often kept going until she felt raw. And he enjoyed himself, and she was good at making him feel good, and that counted for something, didn't it?
Sex at least felt better when she finally learned to come, and it made more sense to her why he loved it so much.
The easiest times were really when she felt like she was watching herself from above, like it wasn't her who was there. Though sometimes she realized it was Carol he was inside, not her. Those were the times when she fought and screamed at him, times when his face held a different sort of gratification. It was painful to watch, seeing that happen to someone else. Someone that was her, but also not her. It was a very slight relief and a source of shame for not stepping in.
Stupid girl.
The words seemed to ring in her head. So often that they meant nothing.
Until they did.
Rogue began to see a pattern. She had apparently been a “natural” in all manner of things. Every sort of chore, every sort of sex. Everything he didn't want to do, everything that made him feel good. He heaped praise on her when she was sucking and jerking him off, riding him, fucking him with her fingers, being pounded into from behind. She was always "tight and wet for him," even when he struggled to push inside her because her body had finally decided to rebel. She was even a “natural” at kissing him, apparently, which they could never quite get right.
Was she even good at anything at all? As usual, it might very well have everything to do with her being available and willing, rather than being worthy or wanted. She was so unsure whether up was up that she believed him when he insisted she was enjoying herself, even though she wasn't. And she was so tied into knots that she nodded in obsequious agreement, knowing that it was always easier when she went along.
Still, she was learning more about herself, was starting to understand more about him.
And she was getting tired of being tossed around, rudderless in the waves.
In a moment of ingenuity, she'd suggested that he touch himself more often, said she liked to watch him, and she'd thought she was so damn clever for finding a way to get a break.
But he must have seen the truth on her face.
"Here I thought you wanted me to stroke my cock for you. I even waited for you to come back from the creek."
He spat on his hand and cocked his knee, giving himself a good stroke.
"Did you not want to watch?"
"I do, sugar. Go right on. I'm watchin'."
"Mmmhmm—mmm—still feels good. You haven't wanted me to fuck you as often, have you?"
She almost dropped the water jug.
"What makes you say that?"
"You've been finding excuses. They're good ones, but still excuses. You wouldn't even touch yourself while I watched."
"I just sometimes don't feel like it. It's nothin' more than that. I'm not even sure why."
"Hmm. You know I'm imagining it's your hands on me. And then your mouth… It could be right now."
"I just…"
"Love, we're going to be here a long time. I know you have needs as well as I do." He gasped. "Yes, I'm getting there. Just thinking about you. You weren't coming at first, were you?"
"Huh?"
"You do now. Even on days when you don't want to."
"I… It isn't as easy for me."
"I think maybe we should make you come now."
He tugged her down, gliding his fingers between her legs.
"Wait, I-"
"Still such a beautiful pussy."
Sure it is…
"I think she needs a little extra attention today."
She.
That still made her squirm.
He spread her knees, stroking her with his thumb.
He had figured out by now just where to touch her, and she let out a small grunt.
"Erik, we don't need to-"
"Look at her, love."
He spread her knees wider, continuing to stroke her before moving on top of her.
"See how much she wants this."
He pushed inside her, slowly rocking his hips against hers.
"Erik, I told you-"
"Love, I'm already almost there."
She gave his shoulders a weak shove.
"Ah- Yes, but-"
"Shhh. Let me feel you. You're still so tight."
Rogue felt her eyes stinging, but he would just be angry if she pushed him off.
"You're already wet for me, love. See, this is just what she needed. You want me to come for you?"
"Not inside me."
"I know. I'll be careful."
Truth be told, it was a miracle she hadn't gotten pregnant.
"Unghhh—love, you feel so good around me. After this we'll make you come hard."
"No, we don't-"
"Shhh… Almost there—I- ungghhhhh-"
He collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily.
"Sugar, we have to be careful."
"I know. I do try. You just can't imagine how you feel."
"It's alright."
It wasn't. But what could she say?
"Let's spend a little time on you now."
But he was already between her legs, lapping at her and moaning.
"Unnnggghh you taste like me. My cock is already aching for you again, love."
She sighed.
"Alright."
Rogue finally built up the courage to say no, to push him away and insist on another time.
He grumbled about dying of sexual frustration, spoke of his needs, her needs.
She often took her time with chores, spending hours walking and wasting time. It really was beautiful, if you knew which dinosaurs to avoid.
She took to sitting on a warm rock by the creek and getting lost in her head. Carol seemed to enjoy that, too, and they had similar dreams of being home, of a portal opening that would get her there, of a plane coming to save her.
She returned to the tent to find Erik gone, and she sighed with contentment. Her chores were done for now, and this was usually the time Erik bent her over something and pounded into her. With him out, she had space to breathe.
She laid down on the makeshift bed, sighing. It wasn't terrible, this little home, considering the circumstances.
She must have dozed off, but she woke up to heavy breathing in her ear.
"You haven't been wet like this for me in ages."
Huh?
Erik was on top of her, inside her, thrusting into her so hard she was surprised they weren't sliding across the ground.
“Ah!”
"That feels good, doesn't it? Your pussy's been aching for this, even when you don't realize it."
"Erik… I was sleeping."
"You were in our bed, you little minx."
She still felt groggy.
"Wait-"
"You're dripping wet, love. I can see how good this feels."
Somehow it did feel good. She hated that. It shouldn't when she didn’t want to be doing this, but today her body had decided to betray her.
"Come on, you're almost there. Give that pussy what she wants. She's been desperate for it. Come on."
"Oh God. I-" she had to bite back a moan, but she came hard, shuddering as he continued to fuck her.
"There we go. That's all she wanted. She's just been lonely."
"Stop. I can't anymore."
"I'm almost done. I think you've got another few in you anyway."
She did, though her legs shook, and she hated as her moans got louder each time.
Afterwards, they laid down next to each on the little bed, him playing with her nipple like it was an old radio dial.
"Love, I haven't enjoyed myself that much in ages. And you came more times that I can count."
"Erik, that wasn't- you have to tell me first."
"Where's the fun in that? And you loved this."
"You have to ask me."
He pushed her onto her back, spreading her knees and stroking her.
"You're wet for me again. I don't think you know yourself all that well." He tapped her temple with his other hand. "Not to mention, you've got someone else in there who wants it just as much."
She expected Carol to protest, but she was still quiet.
Maybe even she gave up on me…
He thrust into her again, and she groaned. She was starting to feel sore.
"See, we've barely started and you're already enjoying yourself."
"Erik…"
"Love, don't make me tie you to a tree."
She eyed him grumpily, foolishly thinking that was a joke.
And then she looked up at the ceiling of the tent.
There was a tear that she needed to fix, one that she always tried to remember to fix after they were done. She never would.
Present (X-Mansion)
By the time Rogue asked to be excused to change, the team members nodded dazedly, staring at the door that closed behind her.
"I believe her," Betsy said immediately, her eyes red.
Jean nodded.
"As do I."
"You didn't sense anything suspicious?" Scott asked.
"No." Jean shook her head firmly, swiping at her eyes.
Scott put a hand on her back, just as Logan held a tissue box in her direction.
She thanked both of them, dabbing at her tears.
"Nor did I." Betsy's face was thoughtful.
"What did you sense?"
"It was partly the intensity of all of it that struck me." Jean's face looked haunted. "But shame, sadness, fear, embarrassment, rage. Defiance, desperation."
"Resignation," Betsy finished.
"Yes," Jean agreed. "It was almost painful."
"Looked like she was walking the plank," Logan noted.
"He didn't say a whole lot tonight, but all that matches up with what he did say," Remy added.
"What did he say?" Hank asked.
"Pretended she and I were together. Fils de putain looked me in the eye and told me he's the only person who can touch her. Asked if that bothered me, like she wasn't even there."
"Is that when you decided to grope her?" Betsy raised an eyebrow.
"Thought we didn't see that, huh, Cajun?"
Remy held up a hand.
"I know. I'm gonna talk to her when we're done."
And once she's done kickin' my ass, I'll finish the job.
"It sounds like you believe her, too, Remy?" Ororo asked.
Remy nodded.
"She was shakin'. Looked terrified." He looked at Ororo. "You don't believe her?"
"She has clearly been through terrible things. But she is young and pretty. She makes for a convincing tragic figure." She gave Remy a meaningful look. "And I believe some of us may be more susceptible to that than others."
"Well, Gumbo would be easy to fool. But Jean and Bets?"
"And Charles," Jean added.
"I admit, I trust our resident telepaths more in this case."
Ororo gave Remy a soft smile.
"Stormy, I'm hurt."
"I am sorry. Though you must admit you are not always guided by your head."
"Not the right one, anyway," Logan snorted.
"Sounds like you've been thinkin' 'bout me, cher."
"Remy," Ororo warned. "I do feel for her. I realize it must be that much harder for her being in a place like this. But support, sympathy, and trust do not always go hand in hand."
"Could you sense anything more?" Bobby asked, glancing between Jean and Betsy.
Jean raised an eyebrow.
"Meaning did I read her thoughts without permission?"
He nodded.
"No."
"You don't think it would help?"
"To pry?" Betsy asked.
"Not sure any o' us would want someone roamin' 'round our heads uninvited, ice pop."
"I'm going to speak with Charles in the morning, and anyone who wants to join me is welcome." Jean's voice was firm. "I'm not asking about anything more than her time in the Savage Land. I understand that it must feel like the stakes are high enough that her permission shouldn't matter. But it still has to. She's a member of the team, whether or not everyone likes it. We want her to trust us, too."
Betsy nodded.
"I agree. And I still think we're better having her fight with us than against us."
"My concern is only that she may be fighting against us from within the team."
Remy must have made a face, because Ororo gave him a knowing smile.
"I will be gentle with her, Remy. I don't mean that we should ostracize her. But we can offer support while still remaining on our guard. And I do agree with Betsy. If I am wrong—and I hope I am—she is better to have as a friend than foe."
"If she is playing a double game, I don't think it's with Erik Lenscherr," Jean insisted. "I don't get the sense that she could stomach it."
"Blackmail?" Logan raised an eyebrow.
Betsy shook her head.
"No, I don't think so."
"Could she still be with the Brotherhood somehow?" Bobby asked.
"Non," Remy heard himself respond a little too quickly.
Ororo gave him a funny look.
"Just don't think we need to worry 'bout that."
"No?" Ororo was still studying him closely.
"Non."
Rogue stared at the ceiling and blew out a long breath.
It felt incredible to be out of that dress and to be under her blankets.
She wanted to pull them over her head and sleep for days.
She wondered if this place would ever feel like home. If she would look at the people around her and feel safe, if they would feel the same when they looked at her.
Both would probably happen, sooner than she expected.
Because you're a gullible damn fool.
She had seen sympathy in the eyes of some of her teammates, had been warmed not just by Gambit's coat, but also his kindness.
Those things were her kryptonite. Always had been.
She wanted so much to be wary, to read people well. She guessed she did, in a way. But she ignored red flags, managed to push them to the back of her mind until they became glaring sirens that she couldn't ignore.
She had started a habit of doing a sort of pro/con list with people, forcing herself to notice the good and the bad together, trying to challenge the pull within herself to give in to the gratitude she felt when someone seemed to care about her.
She had always felt so starved for that, had been so, so desperate to be noticed and cherished. She was the child in the classroom waving her hand maniacally, practically begging the teacher to call on her, aching when the teacher picked someone else.
It had made her stupid as a child, possibly made her stupid now. But she guessed it was probably something she'd never be able to shake.
Past (Caldecott County/Mississippi)
Anna Marie had wanted her mama—her real mama—to notice when she'd done things around the house, completed her homework, gotten a good grade. Anything. But Mama worked long hours and was tired, and she wanted to sit and put her feet up. Daddy was the same. Her last image of them was of the two of them sitting in matching La-Z-Boys, smoking, watching a rerun of 'Jerry Springer.' Well, that and her daddy walking through the woods, trying to lure her out.
It was a sort of cruel joke that the only time anyone in Caldecott County really wanted her was when they were trying to murder her. Cody hadn't really wanted her. He'd wanted a girl to kiss him, probably have sex with him. And she was so ready to do anything to make him like her. In a way, her powers had saved her from herself in that case.
Rogue had felt the same longing with Mama and Irene. And that had made it that much easier for them to fool her. To them, Rogue was a 'child of great power,' a puzzle piece, a pawn. They needed her powers, not her. They loved her powers, not her.
Irene had always kept her distance, had insisted on being called Irene. Rogue wondered now if that had been an unconscious way of drawing a line between them, of keeping her heart closed. Mama was more complicated, because she had moments of warmth and moments of ice. She was protective of her, though not in the way she was protective of Irene. At times, she seemed to be almost trying to love her, but Rogue fell short, and Mama fell back into bitterness. Even when Rogue did well, it wasn't enough, and Mama's disappointment was plain.
Mama had only looked at her with pride when she stood over Carol's dead body, Carol screaming inside her head, her memories and emotions flooding Rogue's entire being. Rogue had turned away, fallen to the ground, retching as her body tried to stop the influx of whatever this was. She finally collapsed, shuddering, had to be carried back to the jet.
She heard Mama say something about Carol being Kree, that maybe Rogue's powers had reacted strangely to that, that maybe something had gone wrong. As Rogue felt the plane's engine vibrating the cot beneath her, she could see that Mama's pride was now accompanied by something more. It was difficult to focus long, with Carol wailing inside her, seeming to be trying to shake her, to get her to escape. It was probably just Carol trying to run, recognizing danger in the woman across from her who seemed to glow with satisfaction.
It didn’t make her run. But it was enough to make Rogue finally start to think. She had done what her mamas wanted, and now there was someone violently scratching the inside of her skull, begging her to hide. An animal sensing danger, trying to push an injured member of the pack along. She didn't know what to make of that, but she finally let herself listen to the alarm bells.
Rogue slept in her room, or tried, though Mama and Irene were speaking loudly in their room at the end of the hall.
"Something went wrong, of course-"
"Naturally."
"But it seems to have worked."
"She does have Carol's powers now?"
"And her memories. Sometimes seems to talk like her, too. Nice to have a break from the accent,” Mama snorted. “She hasn't been awake much, though. Do we know who might be next?"
Next?
"Everything is still a jumble, love."
"I know. Do we decide on our own, or should we wait?"
"It may be that the fates guide us in practice rather than words."
"Meaning we may choose correctly if we pick someone?"
"You've always known me well."
"I wish you'd been there. It may have been the first time her training occurred to her. She fought dirty, too, which I like to see. I think I'll remember Carol's face until the day I die."
So would Rogue.
I wonder when they last washed these sheets.
Huh?
Rogue shifted.
Oh right.
She felt Carol scanning the room, listening and studying the window, trying to decide when to leap out.
Don't you dare, she told herself.
It wasn't safe here.
"Rogue?"
Mama and Irene were standing in front of her.
When had they come into the room?
Her fingers began to twitch, and again, she studied the window.
Fly.
Don't even think about it.
"How are you feeling, love?" Mama asked.
"Mama says it was quite an adventure for you."
Quite an adventure.
The way people talk to a toddler about finding a nice rock in the backyard.
"Yes."
You murderers.
Uh.
"That was a stupid decision, you monsters!" Carol shouted.
No, she shouted.
"Ah. I see," Irene said, unphased.
"You really don't think the Avengers will come after you?" Rogue spat.
"I am hoping they do," Mama purred.
"Dearest, it isn't really Carol."
"Don't listen to her!"
"Is Rogue still in there?"
Yes!
"You made me a murderer!" Carol shouted.
Or was that her?
"You made me a murderer," she repeated.
As herself.
"Love, you did something important. The Avengers are a threat. Carol was a threat."
"Why?"
"Mutants need people to protect them. Not be friends with non-mutants and look the other way when atrocities happen. The Avengers are the worst sort. Thinking they're doing good when they're harming people like us."
"And what good are you doing?" Carol ground out.
"Keeping mutants safe."
"By fulfilling a prophecy that you both know is nonsense?" Carol shouted.
Prophecy?
"What prophecy?" Rogue asked.
"It's nothing, love. I think having Carol in there is just mixing you up."
“‘From deep in the woods, a child of great power shall come forth, ushering a reunion of enemies and the demise of humankind,’" Rogue heard herself intone.
For the first time in her life, Rogue saw surprise on her mothers' faces. And then worry.
What?
Mama turned to Irene, giving her a look before putting a hand on her arm. Irene couldn't see anymore, and Mama still forgot sometimes.
"How do they know?"
"I do not know."
"What was that?" Rogue asked.
"Nothing, love."
Nothing, Carol scoffed.
"Nothing?"
"Love, if Carol is in there, she will know sooner or later."
"Right."
Mama sat on the edge of the bed, which was unusual for her.
"Do you remember when I found you?"
They're holding her hostage.
Who was Carol talking to now?
We tried to extricate her, but she wouldn't come.
What?
Mama was still waiting for an answer.
"Yes. I was in the woods with my gun."
"You tried to shoot me. Fortunately, I'm the better shot."
Rogue's arm still had the scar to prove it.
It had just been a graze, a warning, but it had hurt like hell. And it had been enough for Raven to get closer.
"Mama Irene told me where to find you."
"Because of one of her visions?"
"Yes. She knew about your powers. And that you'd be even more powerful. You were going to be important to our cause."
Rogue felt her brow furrow.
"I brought you home, and you ate yourself sick. It was hard to believe you'd become anything like what we needed, but Mama Irene insisted."
They're training her to fight.
Carol, who the hell are you talkin' to?
"I kept wanting to send you back. I even wondered whether I'd brought home the wrong child."
Rogue sat up.
Window.
"You did?"
"If I had, we needed to find whoever was really out there for us. And why put you through something you couldn’t handle? No sense in wasting everyone's time."
"But… You didn't want me to stay?"
"We brought you here for a purpose. All that training and education needed to go to the right person. The vision was the clearest we'd had in decades. It was too important to ignore."
"So you were going to send me back to the woods?"
"Or your hometown."
"But… they wanted to kill me."
"You'd figure it out."
I what?
Window.
"But we're family? Wouldn't you just want me to stay?"
"Family is relative, love. And protecting one little girl isn't enough if it means mutants die."
"I… I thought…"
I thought you loved me.
"No need to make that face. You're still here. You're going to make a difference now."
Mama turned her head.
"What are you looking at?"
Window.
Rogue stood, her fists clenched.
"Rogue?"
Rogue.
Fly.
She did.
Present (X-Mansion)
Remy tapped on Rogue's door, wondering if he should just put this off until another time. But he couldn't seem to push it out of his consciousness and wasn’t sure he’d even be able to sleep.
Not that that should be her problem, but-
Startin’ to overthink shit a lil too much...
The door opened, and a haunted-looking Rogue opened it.
She was wearing a pair of green pajamas that were decorated with… skunks?
"Those are…"
"They were a gift," she snapped.
"From-"
"No. Magneto did not give me skunk pajamas," she huffed. "What do you want?"
He walked past her into the room, and she rolled her eyes.
"Sure, come on in. Wasn't like I was tryin' to sleep."
"I wanted to apologize for touchin' you earlier. I wasn't thinkin'. And I shoulda asked."
"Someone put you up to this?"
"Non."
"Hmm. Well, as you heard, I'm used to it."
"Shouldn't be used to it, chere. And that don't make it right."
She shrugged.
"It ain't gonna happen again. And I'm sorry."
"Well, thank you. I got a whole lotta bigger fish to fry, but I appreciate it all the same."
He gave her a nod.
"You share anythin' else I should know 'bout?"
"'Bout you?"
He shook his head.
"Ain't mine to share. Think you should, though."
"It's not-"
"I know it's nobody's business, but I think you should all the same. Think it'll make things easier."
"Still don't know why you care."
He shrugged.
Neither did he.
"Well, thank you, I guess. Probably enough for everyone to gloat 'bout as it is."
"Gloat?"
"Catchin' me with some sorta evil secret? Sleepin' with the enemy?"
"Don't think they're gloatin'."
"Course they are."
"Well, even if anyone else is, I ain't one to criticize in that department."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You fuck him, too?"
Remy's jaw dropped.
Then, he burst into laughter.
That seemed to surprise her.
"And here I thought you never laughed."
"Guess you gotta tell better jokes, chere."
"I'm plenty funny."
"Right. And non, don't think I have."
She shrugged.
"Never know with you."
He grinned.
"You sure you're okay?"
She nodded.
"Hardest part was seein' him, to be honest. Was hopin' I'd never have to again. But I always was real stupid ‘bout people."
“Non, don’t make you stupid. Means you wanted to stay ‘way from someone awful. And he’s real awful.”
“He is.”
"S’always easier to hope this shit don't come back."
"I guess."
He reached out a hand to pat her on the arm, then pulled it back.
She gave him an odd look.
“You alright?”
“Yeah. Uh. Hope your night goes better.”
“Right. You feelin’ okay?”
“Yeah. ‘Night.”
He heard the door close behind him as he walked down the hall.
Real smooth, couillon.
Remy could admit that he was not being on his best behavior today.
But he had a lot on his mind, too much, and old habits die hard.
Most of the team members used the main kitchen near the bedrooms, but there was a small kitchenette on the other side of the house that nobody used. It was conveniently near the parking lot, so Remy could easily bring guests in through that door.
The woman—Desiree—had a son in fifth or sixth grade. He wasn't in any of Remy's classes, which Remy decided meant this wasn't his worst decision, but he suspected his teammates and fellow teachers would look at him askance.
Hence the kitchenette.
Desiree was blonde, with fake lips and tits to match. They had flirted in the parking lot a few times, and today seemed like as good a day as any to get to know each other better.
She was splayed on the kitchen table, and he was on his knees, his face buried between her thighs.
She was breathing heavily and tugging his hair almost to the point of pain.
"Fuck. I'm close. I'm close. Keep doing that!" she wailed.
"Well, at least you're doing this in the kitchen," a voice quipped.
There might as well have been a thunderclap.
Gambit jumped back, stumbling as he wiped his mouth.
Desiree groaned, though she stayed in place and looked up at the intruder.
"What the hell?" Desiree groused.
Rogue looked right back, raising an eyebrow.
"You're askin' me that?"
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Sugar, that is ugly language to use with a stranger."
That made Gambit snort, though he handed Desiree his coat so she could cover up.
Rogue fired an eye dart at him.
"Don't know why you're laughin'. People eat on that table."
He grinned.
"Food," she amended. "People eat food on that table."
Desiree was still lying on the table, now propped up on her elbows.
"Who are you, his memaw?"
"Well, bless your heart-"
Oh boy.
"Un petit moment," Gambit wisely interjected. "I didn't know anyone used this room."
"I gathered that."
Rogue yanked the fridge open, tugging out a container.
She gave him a wry look.
"The world really does keep on turnin', huh?"
"I'm sorry, chere."
"Hang on. You're apologizing to her?"
Rogue ignored her, shaking her head.
"Shouldn't you be teachin'?"
"Done for the day."
"Right. So you figured you'd treat yourself for lunch." She tossed her tupperware into the microwave. "You got a room of your own, Cajun."
"Guess he didn't want to wait."
Rogue took a step toward Desiree.
"Sugar, I cannot stress how much you need to get the hell out-"
Gambit put a hand on her arm, and she glared at it.
"Are you really touchin' me with those filthy hands?"
He held up his hands.
"Sorry. We'll go."
He gave Desiree a grin, which fortunately managed to melt her.
"Got to finish somethin' I started."
Rogue rolled her eyes.
"Well, enjoy that."
"You can go next if you got time, chere."
Her jaw dropped.
"I swear-"
"Just jokin'."
"Then go joke somewhere else. Jackass."
She shook her head again.
Desiree took some assuaging, but they eventually ended up in his room, and he did finish what he started.
She blew him afterwards, and Remy found his mind wandering in an inconvenient way. He was getting used to sex blurring together, to moments like this only standing out when they were truly remarkable. But this wasn't boredom. It felt more like intrigue. And not about the hot, wet mouth around him.
Rogue's reaction to walking in on them had made him grin. He knew more of her history now, so he hadn't expected her to be entirely shy and innocent. But she was mostly bored and annoyed with him, and once Desiree ran her mouth, Rogue was happy to tell her what was what.
Rogue's tartness should not be as appealing as it was. He should not be tickled by her annoyance or feel warm inside when fire seemed to shoot from her eyes in moments of genuine fury. It shouldn't matter that she was a damn good fighter, had an acerbic wit, was really fucking beautiful-
Why the hell was he thinking about this?
Somethin' 'bout this place is messin' with my head.
Desiree increased her pace, and he gripped her hair tightly, trying to pay attention.
He bet Rogue was loud when she came. And he could get her off with just his hands, over her clothes even, so her powers wouldn't be the end of the world.
Somethin's wrong with me.
He clenched his jaw.
This was not like him.
Never thought of a woman for more than a few hours, he grumbled inwardly.
Well, that wasn't true.
'Cept Bella.
But that was a long time ago. And it definitely hadn't happened since then.
He willed himself to focus.
Desiree moaned around his dick, and his knees felt a little weak.
He wondered if Rogue had ever done this.
He guessed she probably had. With that shithead.
He hated that for her. He hated everything about that for her.
Was she glad now her powers were what they were, at least with everyone else? Maybe she didn't want anyone else touching her again.
He shoved away this train of thought for the millionth time.
Fuck me.
Desiree picked up her pace, sucking harder, and soon he was coming hard, desperately trying not to think of anything else.
This training room mostly had a series of mats, with space around them to sit and observe. It gave them a fair amount of space to train, allowing multiple pairs or small teams to spar.
A few sets of students were seated at one side of the mat while Betsy spoke about using defensive moves as an offensive strategy.
Remy half listened, looking around at the students. They were mostly paying attention, and he knew they were primarily interested because they were expecting to watch him and Betsy spar. It was always a good time, though his students were a little too enthusiastic during the times when he got his ass kicked.
The door opened, and Remy felt his eyes dart in that direction.
Rogue entered, smiling brightly at her students, waving at a few others that she recognized. She looked up to see him and Betsy, and he caught the remains of her smile head on.
Fuck.
This really was going to be a problem.
She was wearing a sort of bodysuit, matching gloves, and boots, and her hair was pulled tightly back.
Even has a whistle ‘round her damn neck.
He felt an elbow in his side.
"Mr. LeBeau, did you have anything to add?" Betsy gave him a pointed look.
Huh?
"Not right now."
She rolled her eyes.
Rogue joined them at the front.
"I think most of you know Miss Rogue."
"Hi, y'all. Hope you're ready for a real ref this time."
"Actually, I was thinking we might mix things up a bit," Betsy said wickedly.
Rogue's eyes shot to Betsy's.
"Pardon?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"I was thinking you and Mr. LeBeau might spar."
"Yesssssssss!" said one student.
"Kick his ass!"
"Hey!" Rogue snapped. "You use ugly language in here, I'll show you ugly."
"She will, too."
"Gamb- Mr. Lebeau," she warned.
"How about hand-to-hand? No weapons. Just a few rounds."
The students cheered.
Remy shrugged, unable to bite back a grin.
"Fine by me."
"I'm sure it is."
Rogue tugged off the whistle, handing it to Betsy with a harrumph.
"Hope you know you're dead," she hissed.
Betsy smiled beatifically.
The three of them moved toward the middle of the mat.
"Let's talk rules."
"Mind if we allow murder?" Rogue asked.
"No murder. No maiming. No powers."
"Now, hang on-"
"Sounds fair to me, chere."
"I'll bet it does."
"Three rounds. I call it unless someone taps out."
"Great."
"C'mon, this gonna be fun."
"I'm going to say a few more things to the kids."
"Fine." Rogue grumbled.
He was absolutely going to love this.
"You better have showered after your 'lunch'."
"Sure did, chere. You missed out."
"Uh huh."
He nudged her with his shoulder.
"Sorry again 'bout that."
"It's fine. And I appreciate that you thought to wipe down that table 'fore you left."
He shrugged.
"Was the gentlemanly thing to do."
"That what you were doin'? Bein' a gentleman."
"Some might say it's the best way."
"Oh?"
"Want me to show you?"
"I do not."
"You'll be glad to hear we did finish what we-"
"I don't want to know."
"Alright, everyone ready?" Betsy called out.
"Yes, we-" Rogue began.
Remy ripped off his shirt.
"Oh."
Rogue blinked at him.
"All set, Bets," he called.
They were much more evenly matched than Remy had expected. He wasn't sure whether to be impressed or annoyed, but either way, the students all seemed delighted whenever he took a hit.
Gonna have to work on teachin’ respect for their elders…
He won the first round, which clearly irritated Rogue, but she got back up and won the second. He could see the pride in her eyes, and she was clearly trying hard not to gloat.
They faced off again.
"Last chance, chere."
"Last chance? Who says I'll be done with you when we're outta here?"
"I'm hopin' you won't be," he leered.
Betsy blew her whistle.
Rogue lunged at him, and he managed to sidestep her, though she rolled, turning right back.
Where she learn some o' this shit?
He wondered how much of it was from her training with the Brotherhood and how much was absorbed from Carol Danvers.
She smacked him on the side of the head.
"Hey!"
"Focus! No fun if you're starin' into space."
"Come on, Miss Rogue!"
"Slap him this time!"
"Kick him in the n-"
"Don't you finish that!" Rogue snapped.
"Thirty more seconds!" Betsy shouted.
Rogue dove at him, this time taking him down, though he rolled them and landed on top of her.
"Oh damn."
"Is this hot to anyone else?"
That made him snort.
Rogue shoved him off with both feet, her face looking a little too red.
"Hear that, chere?"
She glared at him, diving at him once again.
In the end, it was her that won, though Remy was willing to be a gracious loser.
"Alright, everyone, what did we learn from that?"
Betsy asked the students.
"Guess we learned I'm better at that than you thought, huh, Cajun?" Rogue asked, tugging her whistle back over her head.
"Oh, I see. You gonna be a sore winner, hein?"
"Just pointin' somethin' out."
He took hold of the whistle.
"I see that. Though you realize we gonna have to have a rematch."
"You think you can take it, Cajun?"
"I know I can."
He gave her a wink, and with that, he walked off.
He looked back just to see her realize that the whistle was glowing.
She gasped.
"You motherf-"
An explosion rang out.
By the time the smoke had cleared, Remy was holding her in his arms, not unlike the hero of a romance novel cover.
Rogue could hear students cheering and whistling.
"Guess we learned never to let our guard down, hein, chere?"
"Cajun, I am goin' to murder you."
"Be a shame, chere. Fit real nice together, non?"
"I'm not kiddin', Gambit. That's cheatin'."
"Oh damn. I came at just the right time," she heard Jubilation say.
"Wait, are they together?" someone else asked.
Jesus Christ.
Gambit just grinned.
Asshole's havin' a fuckin' field day.
"How's it cheatin' when we were done?"
"Because it- You're not- It wasn't playin' fair."
"All's fair in love and war, mon coeur."
"Oh, is it?"
"Oui, I-"
She swung hard, sending him flying.
Always had a good right hook.
She heard more cheers from nearby and walked over to the pile of limbs that had recently been Gambit.
"What was that you were sayin', sugar?"
He rubbed his jaw.
"Don't remember, but I might be in love."
"You're an idiot is what you are."
With that, she stormed out.
Rogue stomped into her room, grinding her molars together.
That asshole.
She looked down at her bodysuit. At least it wasn't too messed up.
Gonna have to buy another damn whistle, though. Should make him pay for it.
She quickly showered and walked back into her bedroom.
She was still grumpy as hell, but the shower had at least calmed her down enough that she wouldn't immediately go back out to murder the jackass.
Her laptop was on the bed, and she moved it out of the way so that she could sit on the edge. They had a meeting late this afternoon, and she'd been making notes earlier about what she'd seen before Erik arrived at the gala.
It still amused her to be issued a laptop as part of a mutant "superhero" team, but it was useful to have when she didn't want to sit in one of the work areas.
She should probably read over some things when she had a minute. Jean had emailed her a list of files, dossiers of all the team members. Rogue tried to look at them before, but Carol had taken over, and she finally gave up, having absorbed little information herself while nonetheless seeming to burn with nostalgia and grief.
Now that there was more space in her head, maybe she would be able to take some of this in.
She opened the laptop, scanning everyone's names, looking at a few photos. She had heard of many of the team members before coming here, of course. Carol and some members of the Brotherhood had even known them. As had Erik, though he seemed to know everyone.
All team members had gaps in their files that hinted at more, likely times and stories that wouldn't bear repeating, as Gambit had suggested. Her cursory reading had already told her that they had a long history of violence among them, acts that they likely weren't proud of.
That should probably make her feel a little better about herself.
She looked at the clock. She still had time.
Should start my “diggin” with that asshole. See how he feels with someone in his business.
She opened his file.
Rogue guessed she knew he was a member of the Thieves Guild.
She skimmed through his file, a veritable sea of names.
L’Etroile du Tricherie. Henri LeBeau. Genevieve Darcenaux. Victor Creed.
Her eyebrows went up.
Well, that was a blast from the past.
They have many checkered pasts among them, Xavier had said.
That's what Gambit suggested. Makes me think he's got the worst o' them all.
Xavier had made no reply.
Rogue snorted.
Anything involving Victor could certainly be considered "checkered."
But Gambit wouldn't be on the team if they suspected him of something truly horrible, would he?
Not if I'm here, Rogue thought wryly.
Or most of the others, for that matter.
She furrowed her brow.
I killed a lotta people in my time, chere. More'n I can count.
Victor certainly had.
But Gambit's file didn't suggest the same kind of history.
Maybe he hadn't shared?
Hmm.
Gambit.
Remy Etienne Lebeau.
Remy LeBeau.
She gasped.
"Oh God."
Past (Headquarters of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants)
"Well, there he is," her mama sneered.
Rogue furrowed her brow, looking up.
There was a lot of that sort of thing at the Brotherhood headquarters. Old friends and foes alike showing up, often met with the same mix of disdain and warmth that only Raven Darkhölme could achieve.
The man who entered the room was gigantic. Well, maybe not Fred gigantic.
But he towered over them, seemed to be sprouting hair from everywhere but his face. His nails were veritable claws, and they were dirty, which made Rogue shudder.
His eyes were so menacing that part of her wouldn't be surprised if that was blood.
Her mother walked over to the man, and he swooped her into his arms and immediately shoved his tongue down her throat.
Um…
Mama finally pushed him back.
"Victor, you can't do that."
"Already did. And Irene doesn't mind."
"No, but my daughter is watching."
"Hi," she offered. "I'm Rogue."
Mystique sighed.
"'Hah. Ahm Rogue.' Try again."
"Mama," she groaned.
"You're educated. At great expense. Use it."
Rogue sighed.
"High. Aye am Rogue."
The man—Victor—snorted.
"Something wrong with you, or something?"
"What? No."
"Not sure I believe you. But doesn't matter." He grinned, showing fangs that made her shudder. "You look delicious."
"Victor, behave. And you can't have both of us."
"I'd like to see you try to stop me."
"No. She's off limits. But even then, her powers pack a punch."
"That so?" he leered at Rogue.
"They do," Rogue ground out.
"Shame."
"How about we catch up in here? Rogue, close the door on the way out."
Rogue obeyed.
Rogue sat for what felt like hours, listening to her mama and Victor scream in ecstasy, saying filthy things to each other. She could always tell when her mama had decided to shapeshift during the process, when she started to pound into the men that had come into the office like lions. It was the same with Victor, who was eventually reduced to long moans and whimpers.
She wanted to leave, had begged to leave before, but Mama didn't have a secretary these days, which meant that she expected Rogue to sit at the desk no matter what was happening in the office. Headphones did nothing to dampen the sound, so Rogue just sat and read, and with her imagination and a book in hand, she was sometimes able to go to another, better place.
She had once told Mama that it embarrassed her, and Mama knew that she was shy. But Mama’s solution for that was to expose her more than ever. Rogue guessed she probably should be used to these visits by now, but her face always burned no matter how many times this happened.
Her mother's shower began running, and the noises resumed, though eventually the office door opened, and the two walked out, sated.
"No headphones?" she asked Rogue.
"They don't help."
"I think you might actually like listening in."
Rogue felt herself instinctively make a sour face.
"No. I don't."
"Aye don't."
Rogue blew out a long breath.
"Aye don't."
Raven kissed the top of her head.
"There we go. And I'm just teasing."
There was a sort of lounge by the desk, and Victor splayed across one of the couches. It wasn't lost on Rogue that his hand rested on his groin, and he was now studying her.
Mama smacked him on the head.
"I see what you're doing. That wasn't enough for you?"
"Never enough, sweets. Maybe she'd just like to watch."
"Stop that. I told you. Anyone but her."
"What about Irene?" He gave her a cheeky grin.
Mama's expression hardened, her voice turning to ice.
"If you ever touch her-"
He waved that way.
"I won't. Just giving you shit."
Mama handed him a glass of something, and she sat near him.
"So what are you really doing here? Much as I needed a good fuck."
She gave Rogue a wink.
Rogue wished, for the millionth time, that she could be anywhere but here.
"Thought I'd fill you in on a recent job."
"Oh?"
"Was hired by Essex. Got similar goals to the Brotherhood these days."
"Does he?"
"Of course he's into all that genetics bullshit. But might be there's something in it. Had us get rid of a bunch of mutants because he's worried about the gene pool, whatever the fuck that means."
Mama tilted her head.
"The Morlocks…"
"You heard, huh?"
"I keep an ear to the ground."
"I know."
"And what do you expect to get for telling me this?"
"A whole lot more of that," he nodded toward the office. "And protection in case things with Sinister go south."
"Both can be arranged."
Victor's eyes fell on Rogue again.
"Sure you can't throw her in?"
"No," Mama said firmly. "Not her."
"Too bad." He snorted. "It was a real shitshow in those tunnels. The Morlocks were something else. Sinister said they'd be deformed, but that wasn't the half of it. Felt like we were sparing some of them, looking like that."
"Hmm. I'm not sure I like the idea of spilling mutant blood."
"This blood you would. Sinister's right about this. They'd be bad to keep around."
"How the hell did you even hook up with him?"
"Got hired for a team. The Marauders. Some young Southern punk I knew from way back came around and offered me the job. Remember I told you about Genevieve? That kid."
Mama nodded at that.
"Still had the biggest chip on his shoulder, even though the fucker should have had his tail between his legs. Almost respected that about him. He was a real pain in the ass, but the money was right, and he's a good fighter, all things considered. Thought he was hot shit and fucked anything that moved, too, so we'd just laugh and watch him talk his way into everyone's pants. Made it that much better when he realized."
"Realized what?"
Victor snorted.
"Sinister already knew he wanted us to take the Morlocks out."
"All of them?"
Victor nodded.
"Guess he knew the kid would try to stop us if he had any idea about that. Told him some bullshit about us connecting with the Morlocks. He was a real dumbass for thinking Sinister would want the guys he pulled together to stop by for just a chat."
Victor laughed, tossing back his drink.
"Kid led us into the tunnels for a different reason than he thought. Then, we got down to business. Sinister was right, too. He did try to stop us."
"I think I can guess how you handled that."
Victor nodded, chuckling to himself.
"Beat the fucker within an inch of his life. Wasn't such hot shit then."
"So you left him there?"
"Yep. Might be dead now, with all the bleeding he did. Along with every lump of Morlock on the ground."
"I see."
"Still, you ever run across a kid named Remy LeBeau—goes by Gambit—guess it'll mean he lived. He'll be walking around with a head full of information that could do some real damage. You let me know if that happens, and I'll finish the job."
"I'll be sure to let you know."
Victor unzipped his pants, very matter-of-factly.
"Now, how 'bout one of you sucks my cock before I go?"
Mama smacked him on the head, though she gave Rogue a nod.
“How about we try this?”
Rogue walked toward Mama’s office, and as she turned to shut the door, she saw a spitting image of herself getting onto her knees.
“I should say, ‘How ‘bout we trah this?’”
Victor laughed.
They'd started before Rogue even shut Mama's office door behind her.
Present (X-Mansion)
Rogue stared at Gambit's photo, her jaw on the floor.
A kid named Remy LeBeau—goes by Gambit.
You let me know if that happens, and I'll finish the job.
Gambit led the team into the tunnels. A whole community was wiped out. And yet-
"He did try to stop us," Victor had said. "Beat the fucker within an inch of his life."
Gambit's history was unusually sparse after the massacre took place.
Had he been on the run all this time? Was he convinced working with the X-Men would somehow help him hide? Keep him safe? Was he trying to move on to something better, just hoping no one would find out where he had been?
"Oh God," she said again.