Title: Dance Among the Stars: Someday
Rating: Hmmmm...PG-13? For language and slight gore.
Summary: A traumatic experience brings everything to
Series: Dance Among the Stars #4
Category: Rogue POV
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: WRFA, list. Otherwise, ask. You'll receive.
Trust me. I have no dignity.
Author's Notes: I wanted to get her in here somehow.
Plus, I think she made a good person to rat on Rogue.
I can feel that the end of my journey through my
life's record in my mind is near. The events of the
year following my reckless but ultimately successful
actions in Chicago blur in my mind's eye, blending
together into a swirling vortex. It's hard to keep
track of things like what I got for my nineteenth
birthday or who taught me that really cool kick that I
used against that firebreather in Massachusets when
I'm trying to sort through things to get to the
The most recent of my memories shine brightly in my
mind's eye now. Damn it all, I don't want to see this!
But they're pulling me, making me see, making me feel
what I just wanted to shut away, no matter that there
was some good mixed with the bad...
They were called Sentinels, and they were some badass
Sorry, there he goes again, taking over my
descriptions and adding his own flavor to 'em. Let's
see, where was I?
Oh, yeah, the Sentinels. They were frightening in a
way which was unique, different from anything we had
experience so far. Created by the evil Bolivar Trask,
who immediately sold every mechanical monster he sold
to the Humanity First groups around the nation.
Did I mention how Trask was one of our favorite
people? Yeah, right up there with Erik Lenscherr,
founder of the Brotherhood. Lovely people you can meet
in our line of work.
We had grown, by the way. Yeah, now there was Cyclops,
Jean, Storm, me, Iceman--you know, Bobby--and a woman
named Carol Danvers who was a recent addition to the
group. She was about Jean's age, a Brit who decided
that her powers could be put to their best use here in
America helping the X-Men.
How'd she find out about us all the way over in
England? Well, it seems the X-Men were getting more
than their fair share of fame in the mutant community.
Outside of it, too, for that matter. In fact, Xavier
was already making noises about starting international
groups in other countries to do work like the X-Men
did in America. Let me tell you, that man may have
hope that the world will be good and wonderful and all
that shit, but unlike many of his kind, he's very
ambitious and willing to do the dirty work
himself--well, the coordinating of it, anyway.
So, the Sentinels became our most difficult opponents.
And their numbers seemed endless. Of course, they were
machines which could be reproduced at their masters'
will, so that made sense. They just never seemed to
stop coming, though.
We made mistakes at first, when it came to dealing
with them. I don't know how the Professor got the
money to pay the city of Pittsburgh for the way our
getting rid of our newest enemies in that first fight
demolished half a block of warehouses. Thankfully,
most of them had been abandoned--and not yet occupied
by the homeless. Most of them, anyway. Then there was
the day that a group of Sentinels was reported trying
to round up some of the Morlocks of New York City's
underground. Nah, I don't think the mayor was too
happy with us after that one. Wall Street will never
be the same.
I should add here that I didn't like fighting the
Sentinels much, on a personal level. I didn't get to
do much besides keep the Blackbird warm while the
others went out and fought. When I did get a chance to
join in the fun, it was mainly to guide mutants we
were rescuing to the plane. I couldn't touch the
victims of the Sentinels. And the Sentinels were made
of metal and mechanical parts, which meant there were
no memories for me to pick up with "accidental"
brushes of skin against skin. Damn them.
I hate an enemy I can't fight against. I hate an enemy
I can't fight against and whom I can't touch even
more. It's sad, thinking of how desperate I was for
touch, for memories then.
It was during our fifth battle with the Sentinels that
things took a suprising and painful turn for the
worst. Suprising for everyone else and incredibly
painful for me, anyway. I, as was becoming standard
procedure during our battles with the metal monsters,
was manning the Blackbird. I was even pouting a little
because everyone else got to go out and beat up the
damn things and I had to stay behind. Yeah, I know,
pretty childish, huh?
Cyclops and Carol were doing the most damage to the
Sentinels. I was pretty proud of 'em, even while I was
busy being envious. The whole team worked in sync with
each other, Jean, Storm and Iceman providing the
support and adding the final touches to finish off the
baddies. Gotta love teamwork, even if you're just
However, probably because of her abilities, which
included invulnerability, Carol wasn't be as careful
as she should have been. She hacked off one Sentinel's
head with the severed arm plate of another, and it was
her own damn bad luck that the head fell on her. Of
course, that alone wouldn't have been enough to hurt
her much. That invulnerability I mentioned. But under
the head and over her was the arm plate, and its sharp
edge shoved its way into her chest.
Even as I watched and went numb with shock, I knew
that she wouldn't have a chance in hell.
Invulnerability doesn't cover internal organs being
spilled onto the ground.
Thankfully, the other X-Men noticed what had happened
right away. Jean and Storm gathered her up using the
technique they had perfected since the Statue of
Liberty incident which I tried to forget as much as I
could while retaining Logan's strong presense in my
head. They carried her with them as they ran to the
Blackbird, Cyclops and Iceman following and providing
I could tell from the blank hopelessnes I saw in
Jean's eyes as she tried to staunch the flow of
Carol's blood--so red, so damn red--that there was
nothing that would save her. I gave up the pilot's
seat to Scott so that I could go kneel beside where
Carol lay bleeding her life out onto the Blackbird's
previously pristine metal floors.
"Damn," I whispered sadly, looking into the fading
blue of her eyes. She and I hadn't been especially
close, but she'd been so kind to me, never flinching
away from an accidental brush of my cloth-covered skin
against her, sometimes even touching me voluntarily, a
squeeze of her hand on my shoulder, a slight hug when
I did something well on a mission. In a way, she was
as close to an older sister as I think I'm ever going
Even then, I was thinking of her in the past tense,
and I was hating myself for it, too. I stared down at
her, tears gathering in my eyes, uncertain of what to
say to her in those last moments.
When she saw me, though, Carol's eyes lit up. "Let
me...live through...you," she whispered weakly, blood
bubbling up out of her mouth with every word, with
I knew what she was asking. I wanted to shrink away
from her. There was something different here,
something that wasn't me brushing a bare hand against
an enemy's bare skin during battle to gain memories.
What she asked spoke of love, of kinship that I hadn't
dared hope for. It terrified me.
So I did the only thing I could do. Tears streaming
down my face, I leaned down and hugged her, letting my
bare, tearstained cheek press against her
There was something different to the pull this time.
It came more quickly, with a snap that made me want to
pull away. Almost. And the feeling of Carol rushing
into me wasn't anything like what I had experienced
before. It was like she was running for her life,
seeking a hiding place from the darkness which was
ready to swallow her up. Her energy filled my body,
and my veins felt like they were close to bursting.
Finally, the pull stopped. I sat up and stared into
her glassy eyes, knowing that she was truly dead now.
My tears had stopped, though, because she was with me.
Her mind bolstered mine, reassured me, and she offered
me all that she had had.
It was more than I'd ever absorbed before. So it makes
sense that I passed out. It also makes sense that I
started babbling in my unconscious state. You don't
believe me, you see what it's like to have a buncha
people in your head and then get a big rush of person
that is almost as strong as the "you" inside your
head. Then you try telling me that a gal talking while
unconcious is unusual. Just try.
They played me a recording of what I said when I woke
up. I should have known that they taped every mission.
Some sort of idea for using the records for training.
I s'pose you want to hear it. Fine. Be my guest. I
just want to warn you, though, that it wasn't pretty.
Not at all.
"Rogue!" That was Jean, screaming my name as she
"My god, why--"
"Carol asked her to." The soft voice of Storm
interupting Scott's shocked outburst.
"I couldn't die." That's when I started babbling. The
only thing you could call it. "None of us have
deserved to be here before. Only me, and Logan, you
know. We're the ones who cared for her. She's our
family. The others...dammit, I should have realized.
You should have realized. Why didn't you, Jean? She's
all torn up inside and there's nothing I can do. I'll
have to become part of her or I'll be as bad as the
ones who haven't yet. Even Erik's managed to integrate
himself here. But not the ones who..." The Carol in
me, fading out as she came to understand that I
probably wouldn't have wanted her to say anything.
"They what, Carol? Who are you talking about? Rogue
wouldn't touch anyone unless there was extreme danger
to us, and she's only done that once. So what the hell
are you talking about?" Bobby, trying to act all big
and manly. Okay, maybe he was by then, but not so I
ever noticed in a female sort of way.
"Hush, Bobby. Neither Rogue or Carol in her mind need
the third degree right now." Scott, calm again.
"But you want to know, don't you? You rat-bastards
wanna know what this little bitch did to us. Well,
I'll tell ya. She raped us. Or good enough. She's been
running around touchin' mutants in battle for the last
year, getting away with their memories. Bet ya sorry
fuckers don't know why she's doing it, either. Maybe
I'll tell ya." Don't ask me. One of the mutants I've
absorbed lately. I can't even tell you now which one.
"Oh?" Jean wouldn't ask anymore than that.
"Yeah. Bitch deserves ta be ratted on. See, the girl
got it inta her head that she could experience touch
through the memories of the peeps she took power from.
None of us have faded much, what with her riflin'
through our memories looking for the good stuff at
least twice, sometimes as much as ten times a day. The
girl just goes off into a trance and lets loose on the
little images in her mind. She's gotten pretty good at
it. A while back she got the bright idea that some of
the enemy would have some memories that might take
lookin' into. Guess she got tired of the same old,
same old, even Logan's very fascinating sex life. But
ya don't wanna know about that. So she's got us
rattlin' around in here, and she tries to pretend that
we don't exist except to drag memories out of. But
this new bitch she let in is gonna change that. I can
tell." The voice, mine and not mine, was smug.
"Pardon me, my friends. I let one of her victims take
control for a moment to let you see what she has
become. I suspected, but I had no proof. Who was I to
object to her almost constant meditation? She kept her
distance from me, though, as if she knew I was close
to the truth. So it wasn't until now that I was sure.
You must help her, Jean. You, and the Professor, you
are the only ones who can help her. Except--" Carol's
voice coming from my mouth stopped, as if she didn't
want to complete that thought.
"Except who, Carol? Rogue? Oh, god, is this
confusing." Jean only mutters to herself when she's
"I shouldn't say. He's been gone for so long. His
presense in her mind has lessened with each person she
has violated. Truly, though, Jean, she never hurt any
of them." Carol's plea for Jean's, for the team's
understanding was a ruse. I could tell from her tone.
She was trying to protect me, I believe. Protect my
feelings, even after all she had found out about me.
"They only remain in her mind because she holds so
tight to their memories. If she'd let go...if there
were just some way for her to touch...I don't know
what to do!" I believe that was me, but I still can't
"We'll help her," Jean promised.
"Thank you." Carol or me. At that point it was like
our voices were merging.
There was silence in the plane after that, a silence
that reigned over practically everyone until I woke
That's when all hell broke loose. If I thought that
everyone had been angry with me over the incident with
Suicide and a few others after that, it was nothing
compared to what they felt now that they knew, really
knew what I'd been doing to myself for the past few
I started crying at some point in the various tirades
lashed out at me. I remember screaming above their
voices, "I'm sorry! I just didn't want to be alone! I
wanted to touch."
They were all quiet again, and then Storm did
something that I will always be grateful to her for.
She came over and wrapped her arms around me. Okay,
yeah, she still looked pretty damn mad, but she was
offering me her comfort and support anyway.
"We're going to have to work with you to get over your
addiction, Rogue. It's going to be painful, but we
have to," the Professor said as his chair rolled over
so that he looked up directly into my eyes.
I nodded, my head throbbing and my eyes sore from
crying. I wanted it all to end, finally. The memories
weren't worth it any more. I began to see what they
were. A way of hiding from a the world, of keeping
myself apart even when I thought I wanted to get
closer to people. They were my excuses to stay out of
the big game called life.
And I was sick of them.
Jean ordered me to lay back down and try to get some
real rest. I obeyed because I was too sick at heart
not to. As I slipped off into sleep I heard something
that, had I been less exhausted, would have had me
bounding out of the bed and running outa that mansion
quick as you please.
"I'm going to use Cerebro to call Logan here."
My dance through the stars is done. Now, all I have to
do is try to find some happiness and peace in my own
life. Which, you know, is pretty hard considering the
fact that the Professor just informed me that Logan's
on his way and I really don't know what the hell to
think about that.
But I do know that I'm gonna be okay. Someday.
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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