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Fic: DAS: What If... (1/1) Rogue

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  • Ally
    Title: Dance Among the Stars: What If... Author: Ally Email: roguegirl01@yahoo.com Rating: PG I actually got it that tame...wow Summary: Rogue takes some risks
    Message 1 of 1 , Mar 2, 2001
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      Title: Dance Among the Stars: What If...
      Author: Ally
      Email: roguegirl01@...
      Rating: PG I actually got it that tame...wow
      Summary: Rogue takes some risks
      Series: Dance Among the Stars #3
      Category: Rogue POV, no sign of L/R at the moment
      'though, trust me, it's on the horizon...
      Disclaimer: If I owned all of these people, do you
      think this would be a mere fanfic? No, it'd be canon,
      blazoned on the walls, etc etc etc. So, let's just say
      that, since you haven't seen this on the big screen,
      in an authorized book, or on TV, the characters in it
      aren't mine. Of course, if you hadn't wanted me to
      write about them, why the hell'd you let 'em clamor
      about in my head for gods only know how long, making
      me have to write this? Hmmmm?
      Archive: Ask. You'll receive. Trust me. I have no
      dignity.
      Author's Notes: This one's kinda weird. I'm not quite
      sure WHAT I was thinking when I wrote it, but I think
      it fits in. I tried to tie it in.

      < > indicates telepathic thought



      -------------------------------------------------------



      One, two, three, four.

      Four bright lights shining above my head. They are my
      focus, my anchor in the relentless, torrential river
      of my own memories.

      If their memories had behaved as my memories now are,
      I would have been so frightened that I would've begged
      the Professor for help much earlier on.

      Much earlier.


      -------------------------------------------------------


      My second battle was easier than the first. Strange,
      isn't that? In a fair world, I could have progressed
      in steps from slightly difficult to very dangerous. Of
      course, no one ever said it's a fair world, did they?

      We were sent to rescue a group of six newly-emerged
      mutants from a mob which was chasing them through the
      streets of Chicago. The last of the scared, confused
      adolescents was boarding the Blackbird with Jean and
      Storm guiding them and me standing outside for defense
      just in case when three members of the Brotherhood
      showed up at a run. I guess they figured they'd try
      and recruit a few young, impressionable mutants who
      wouldn't know how evil their intentions were.

      They certainly didn't figure on me. Even I didn't
      realized I was going to do it until I did.

      We weren't looking for a fight with the Brotherhood
      just then. It was pretty damn inconvenient, if you ask
      me, for them to show up when we were in the middle of
      a rescue mission with a mob probably only minutes from
      finding out our location. So, I did the only thing I
      could to do at the moment, up against the three of
      them by myself.

      The man who was obviously their group's leader came at
      me fast. I stripped off my glove and ran to meet him.
      I vaguely remember hearing Jean yell for me to stop,
      but I couldn't. My blood was pounding, and I could
      almost feel my skin itching in anticipation of what I
      knew I was about to do.

      He swung at me with a large fist that resembled a
      rock. I grinned, ducked, and reached up to touch his
      bare face with my bare right hand.

      I held on only long enough to watch his eyes roll back
      into his head. Pulling away wasn't too difficult,
      actually. What he was, his mind and what could be
      called his soul, repulsed me. I stood there breathing
      heavily as he crashed to the ground. My hands began to
      grow and harden, and I glared at his "friends" and
      sneered. They ran.

      Okay, so maybe I looked strange swaggering into the
      Blackbird with fists twice the size which they
      normally were. Maybe my eyes were bright yellow
      instead of the brown they'd been moments earlier. But
      did that warrant the tirade which followed?

      "Rogue! What the hell were you thinking?" Scott yelled
      at me from the pilot's seat. As soon as we were
      airborne he turned. I could tell from his clenched jaw
      that he was glaring at me, and that he was furious.

      My guard was up immediately. "I saved our asses out
      there, that's what I'm thinking now! All they needed
      were some scare tactics used against 'em! Remember,
      the bright ones are sent to do the recruiting, Scott,
      or so you've told me countless times!" I yelled right
      back, trying to ignore how much my hands ached.

      "Enough, both of you! Rogue, come here and let me take
      a look at your hands," Jean commanded from the doorway
      that lead to the Blackbird's Small medical unit. I
      reluctantly obeyed.

      "That wasn't exactly a smart thing you did back
      there," Jean murmured as she examined my hands.

      "I know, but I was the only one left to protect us
      all, and I was pretty sure it would work," I replied
      coolly, wincing a little when she pressed her
      latex-covered thumb into the back of my right hand.

      "How sure?" she asked.

      " 'Bout 95%," I said with a twist of my lips that
      might have been called a smile, if the person
      describing it was in a good mood and had nothing
      against me.

      She sighed. "I have to admit, you did what I would
      have done, Rogue, but that doesn't mean I'm not
      worried about you," she told me quietly.

      For the first time in a long while, I recalled our
      conversation of over a year ago. I didn't like
      thinking that I'd placed so much of a burden on the
      woman who had tried so hard to be kind to me, and all
      with a few pain-filled sentences.

      I covered her gloved hand with my bare one. "I hardly
      ever think about what my power can't do for me
      anymore," I told her. It was true. Instead, I thought
      only of memories in those days. The ones I had, and
      the ones I might be able to collect.

      Jean looked at me, as if searching for something.
      Finally, her shoulders relaxed and she smiled
      slightly. "Thanks," was all she said. It was enough.

      "Your bones and musculature have been elarged and
      hardened, as you can see. I'm a little concerned about
      the flow of blood to and from your hands, but we'll
      monitor you closely until the mutation begins to fade.
      Don't worry, it shouldn't be too long," Jean said at a
      normal volume as she ushered me into the main section
      of the Blackbird. I nodded like this had been our
      conversation all along.

      Neither Scott nor Storm talked to me on the way back
      to the mansion. I didn't really mind. I was busy,
      actually, trying to press down the new memories, which
      were incredibly dark and full of anger, pain and
      loneliness. Those feelings were so close to my own,
      the only differences in the twisted state of the new
      feelings, the pleasure that the pain had brought the
      man whose name I knew, after thinking about it for
      barely a second, was Suicide. Well, yeah, he'd sure
      been that.

      I heard him calling my name as soon as the Blackbird
      landed gently in the hangar. <Rogue, please come to my
      office.>

      I wasn't about to argue. I suddenly wanted away from
      the people I'd let get so close as to call them
      "friends," even though we weren't friends in the usual
      sense. So I rushed out of the hangar and took the
      elevator to the upper level, where the X-Men's
      headquarters ended and the mansion which was a school
      began.

      He was sitting behind his desk, wearing that calm look
      which had always made me wish I could infuriate him,
      just once. I wondered if he and Jean had been talking
      telepathically about me. They probably were. I never
      asked, not during that interview, not afterwards. I
      never will.

      "Rogue, please sit down," Professor Xavier said
      heavily. He leaned forward and folded his hands on top
      of his desk.

      The Eric in me recognized this gesture was one he made
      when he was about to give one of his "I'm not trying
      to tell you what to do, but..." lectures. I groaned
      inwardly, as quietly in my mind as I possibly could,
      and settled into a chair facing him.

      "Thank you. Now, Rogue, I'd like to say first that I'm
      very worried for you. You are still underweight, no
      doubt from training too hard and missing a meal or two
      a day. That's not healthy for you, and you know it.
      However, I've begun to think that you aren't merely
      physically unwell, especially after Jean's report to
      me earlier...Rogue, what were you thinking?" he asked
      me, unconsciously echoing Scott's question from
      earlier but in a softer, kinder voice.

      I stared down at my hands, then I answered, "I knew
      that we had to stop them. I was sure that scare
      tactics were all that was needed, and I was right. The
      other two ran. The third member of their little party
      will probably wake up in a few days--unless that mob
      got to him?" The thought hadn't occured to me, and it
      made my voice sharper than I had intended to think
      that Suicide might not survive. Strange, isn't it,
      what having someone in your head will make you feel?
      Protectiveness towards that guy was the last thing
      that had been on my mind an hour before, but now I was
      worried that he might be killed by that damn mob.

      "No, his Brothers managed to get him to safety. But,
      Rogue, what if you hadn't suceeded? What if they had
      ganged up on you? You're not invulnerable, you know.
      Logan is. You are not him, no matter how much of his
      personality you may have absorbed," the Professor
      said, his small smile acknowledging the faint traces
      of Logan which could sometimes be seen in my behavior.


      I seriously thought about this for a minute before
      replying. "If those kids had made it here safely,
      Professor, then it would have been worth it. As long
      as we're playing 'what if' here, well, then what if
      those goons had managed to get on the Blackbird? More
      than my life was at stake, sir," I said slowly.

      Professor Xavier nodded. "I see that you realized
      that, instictively perhaps, and that you acted on it.
      I can't say that I approve wholely of what you did,
      but I understand, and I'm very proud of you," he told
      me.

      I felt a burning sensation in my eyes. For the first
      time in a long while I was close to tears. I let my
      eyes shut and sat there for a moment, then I opened
      them and smiled at him. "Thank you, Professor."

      "You may go get some rest now, Rogue. You've earned
      it," he told me.

      I smiled and stood up, leaving silently and in a much
      better state of mind than I'd been in on entering that
      office.

      And when I got to my room, I laid down on my bed and
      accessed the new memories. Maybe there was something
      worth my time in them . . .

      -------------------------------------------------------

      Five, six, seven, eight.

      I count them over and over as I lay here and review my
      life thus far. At the time I have just described, my
      downward spiral, my dance of self-destruction, was
      almost complete. I know that I am as near to normal as
      I have ever been right now, so I can say this with
      confidence.

      That wasn't the end, though. No, my climatic final
      steps were close, but this time, no cigar.




      =====
      You know what they say. Big claws, big....
      ~Sarah says from the Wolverine X-Fiction Site

      It's the people who claim they're perfectly sane who really scare me.

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