Fic: An Odd Sense of Deja Vu-Rogue 1/2
- Author: Kitty
Title: An Odd Sense of Déjà vu--Rogue
Part- 1of 2
Pairing: Wolverine/Rogue non-romantic
Rating: Hmm.. I'd say R to be safe. There is some adult content, but no
Disclaimer: -sigh- none of it's mine. None I tell you. All belong to Marvel
comics and 20th Century Fox. Big meanies. At least they don't mind sharing!
Summary: Another version of what could have happened while Rogue and
Wolverine were in the bar. What if the tables were turned and it was Rogue
Feedback: The third most vital thing in my life! (the first two being Jesus
Notes-I couldn't get the exact dialogue to what the announcer said when
introducing Wolverine, but thanks to Jaded and her 9 year old for helping me
out! (good idea about the tape recorder by the way)
Rogue walked into the bar hesitantly. It wasn't what she thought Loftlin
City would be, but at least it wasn't home. She winced as memories assaulted
her. The kiss, the ambulance, his parents…..
"In this corner we have the winner and still reigning champion WOLVERINE!
Will anyone dare to fight him?" Rogue strained her neck and saw only a dark
figure in a corner and a cloud of smoke. Dimly she heard the announcer go on
and someone finally yell that they would fight, and walk up to the cage. But
all of her attention was focused on the bare-chested shadow. Though she could
barely see him, she felt…something. A charge. Rogue held her breath as his
face slid out of the darkness. She glimpsed an intense, angry profile before
his competitor punched him in the back. Rogue blinked rapidly, coming out of
her trance-like state. Rogue grimaced as the larger man punched Wolverine in
the back, and proceeded to pummel him as he was down. After a vicious kick in
the stomach, the man raised his hand and Wolverine turned, punching the mans
hand with his own. The larger man howled in pain, and Rogue thought she heard
the distinct clang of metal. Wolverine punched once, twice, and the man was
out. The audience howled. Rogue covered her ears and tried to fight her way
through the mob, holding her jacket around her body and pulling the hood
around her face. She looked around frantically, her knap sack was being
pulled on by people and was weighing her down considerably. She pushed past
people and opened a small cabinet by the door of the bar. It was full of
cleaning utensils. She stuffed her bag into the back of the cabinet and
closed it, looking around to make sure no one saw her.
"Well what have we got here." Rogue felt someone grab her arm and spin her
around. A man, obviously drunk, grinned at her. Rogue struggled weakly; she
hadn't eaten anything or really slept in days. "A pretty thang like you
shouldn't be so covered up." He slurred, releasing her arms to push at her
cloak. Someone pushed the man from behind and he let go of her to turn around
and grab a guy by his lapels. "Whadda ya think ya doing shovin' me. Get outta
here." When he turned back around, Rogue was gone.
Rogue slipped into the small and foul smelling bathroom. She walked over to
the cracked mirror, and turned on the faucet, splashing water on her face to
cool her off. Wearing three layers of clothing wasn't exactly great bar wear.
She heard the announcer scream again "Is there any others? Will any other man
dare to take on the Wolf?" The crowd roared, and Rogue guessed another drunk
had decided he was, as most drunks do, the greatest thing in the world. She
heard the announcer scream for the fight to start, and a few seconds later it
was over. The entire place shook as the audience screamed. She could only
hope the guy who had went up there was man who had grabbed her. Well, she
couldn't hide in here forever. That thought was cemented a second later when
a couple slammed into the bathroom. The two were entwined in an intimate
embrace that left nothing to the mind.
"You. Out." He mumbled. Rogue was only too happy to obey. She stumbled out
and saw that Wolverine had left the cage. Two men had picked up the last poor
guy to fight him and threw him out in the snow. For some reason she looked
around, trying to spot the man whose face she had barely seen.
"Lookin' for me sweetie?" She heard someone yell into her ear. She spun
around and looked into the sweaty, red face of the man who had grabbed her
earlier. His foul breath fanned her face as he laughed. "I knew you'd come
back. Why don't we go somewhere less crowded." Before she could say anything
he had thrown her over his shoulder. Rogue screamed as the room tipped
crazily. She struggled in futile, looking around at the upside down bodies
"Take care of that girl Stan!" One man said, hitting her rump heavily. She
realized that this was just a big joke to them, and no one would be coming to
her rescue. She thought, as the man carried her out the door, she saw a pair
of light jeans and a bare chest walking towards her, but she might have
imagined it. The man, Stan, lifted her off his shoulder and slammed her
against the side of the building.
The door to the bar opened and Rogue held her breath hoping she would see
the Wolf man come out. It wasn't him, but it was two other men. Maybe they
would help her, she thought desperately. "You don't mind sharing, do you
Stan?" One of the men sneered.
Rogue cried out in frustration. Stan grunted his approval and pushed the
cloak down her arms, trapping her hands behind her. His hands grasped the top
of her shirt, and started pulling downward. She was able to free one of her
arms out of her jacket, but with it went her glove. She reached up to pull
his hand away from her. As soon as she came into contact with his skin he
stiffened and released her with a strangled scream. Rogue pushed him off of
her, grabbed her cloak and ran toward the woods surrounding the bar. She
could hear the men yelling and she thought she heard one of them trying to
catch up with her. But the snow, coupled with her heavy clothing and strong
wind slowed her and in a few seconds she could felt faint. She stumbled and
slumped to the ground. Whoever was running after her were only a few feet
away. With the rest of her strength she struggled to pull of her other glove,
sobbing. She didn't want to hurt him, but whether she touched him or not, he
was going to die.