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"Healing" (1/34) Magneto/Rogue [NC-17] X3

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  • Kelly Aderhold
    TITLE: Healing AUTHOR: AngelofSnow VERSE: X-Men movieverse TIMELINE: post X-Men: The Last Stand PAIRING: Eventual Rogue/Magneto RATING: NC-17 (rated for later
    Message 1 of 1 , Sep 16, 2006
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      TITLE: Healing
      AUTHOR: AngelofSnow
      VERSE: X-Men movieverse
      TIMELINE: post X-Men: The Last Stand
      PAIRING: Eventual Rogue/Magneto
      RATING: NC-17 (rated for later chapters)
      DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the X-Men. I am not making any money off of this.
      SUMMARY: The Cure is only temporary. As their mutations return, Rogue and
      Magneto meet. Magneto attempts to reunite the Brotherhood; Rogue attempts
      to control her deadly skin. Life is not easy for Rogue and she discovers
      Magneto may be the only one who can help her. This story features a romance
      between Magneto and Rogue.
      NOTES: Thanks to KumaDaPuma for the beta. This story is complete, 34
      chapters long, and 134,000 words. It can also be found here:
      http://angelofsnow.livejournal.com/18726.html

      Chapter One: Skillets

      Magneto:

      At first, he had considered suicide. It had taken him several
      weeks to completely dismiss the idea from his head. It was beneath him to
      take the coward’s way out. Still the prospect of facing the rest of his
      life as such a changed man was not appealing. He felt weak. He felt human.
      For the first time he felt his age. He knew he was no longer young. He knew
      he was getting older; the evidence greeted him every morning when he looked
      in the mirror. He was sixty-seven for heaven’s sake. But he had never felt
      old before.

      It was difficult adapting. He had not returned to his fortress.
      It was too difficult to face what had once been the center of his power.
      All that metal… He wasn’t ready yet. Besides, how would he have opened the
      door to his own room? It was made of metal and he had purposefully never
      put a doorknob on it.

      So he rented a small apartment in San Francisco and filled it
      with wooden furniture. He bought several cheap Ikea décor plastic lamps. He
      used only disposable Bic razors; the ones with the plastic handles and
      barely two blades to shave with. He even bought that ridiculous new age
      flexible plastic cookware. It was a nightmare to cook with. The red plastic
      skillet burned everything he made in it and it was a fight to remove the
      egg residue that stuck to it. Yet he never considered buying a good metal
      skillet.

      He lived on as little money as he could, hesitating to withdraw more than
      was necessary from his foreign bank accounts. He was still considered a
      wanted man to the U.S. government. Every so often, he would see his picture
      on CNN with the words “dangerous mutant terrorist” underneath it. He always
      laughed when it came on the screen. If they only knew…

      He began making plans to settle in San Francisco. He considered taking a
      job as a guest lecturer at the University of San Francisco. Perhaps when
      enough time had passed from the battle at the Golden Gate Bridge he could
      get a full time job teaching there. He didn’t dare lecture on Mutant
      Relations, though that was obviously a subject he felt passionately about
      and the one he knew best. He would surely be recognized as Magneto if he
      did. Instead, he talked with the school’s Rabbi about doing a Holocaust
      lecture.

      On warm days he would go to the park just to leave his apartment.
      Occasionally he played chess there, eventually playing against a man named
      Jonas. Jonas was very old, Erik guessed in his eighties and he never spoke
      aloud. Erik liked that. When he tried playing against other opponents they
      had annoyed him with their mindless prattle. They seemed so human. Erik
      could beat Jonas without much effort. He missed Charles terribly.

      The loss of his closest friend weighed heavily on him. He was only now
      beginning to deal with his grief. As much as he had disagreed with Xavier’s
      politics and as much as they had been enemies, it meant nothing to Erik.
      They had still been friends. They had had the type of friendship were no
      matter what came between them (the Statue of Liberty incident) and no
      matter how long they went without speaking (his plastic incarceration),
      they picked right back up again as though nothing had happened. Even though
      he could never accept his friend’s peaceful placating methods, Erik never
      for one moment stopped caring about Charles. He found himself wondering if
      there was more he could have done to prevent his friend’s death. The
      wolverine’s accusation that he hadn’t tried to save Xavier from the Phoenix
      struck a cord. Perhaps, if he hadn’t goaded Jean so much about unleashing
      her power? Or if he had tried to fight her with Charles? They could have…
      Magneto was not someone who second guessed himself or regretted a necessary
      sacrifice if it benefited his cause of mutant supremacy. But he wasn’t
      Magneto anymore. He was only Erik Lensherr. And Erik had regrets.

      000000000000

      It started with a paper clip. It had moved away from him when he tried to
      pick it up. He thought for a moment it might be static electricity or his
      eyes giving out on him. But when his fingers had neared the paper clip
      again, it moved. He didn’t feel the hum of metal around him and he could
      not move the paper clip towards him, only away, but it was a start.

      A week later he could move the chess pieces around on the board in the
      park. He began to hope. It was three months after he had been stabbed with
      four doses of the “Cure” while on the Golden Gate Bridge. Eagerly he
      searched the net for information about mutants who had also taken the Cure.
      He found blogs by several mutants who were regaining their powers.
      Apparently, the glorious Cure had only brought temporary relief. It was
      said that the Cure only lasted three or four months and then mutations
      returned in about another two months. He had had four doses and his immune
      system was older and slower to remove the drug from his body. He knew he
      was facing a long recovery.

      But recover he would. For now he would bide his time and heal. Just the
      thought of no longer being weak made him feel years younger. Without his
      powers he felt exposed, defenseless. He had nightmares about the camps
      again and being unable to fight back. Now his thoughts strayed back to his
      abandoned cause. He began to dream again his old dreams of a separate land
      for mutants.

      After another two weeks he could levitate small metallic objects and the
      faint hum in his mind of nearby metal had returned. He bought himself a $38
      Kitchen Aid iron skillet.

      0000000000000

      Notes: This is the only chapter I'm going to post on list. As it would be
      unfair for me to clog your email accounts with 34 chapters and 134,000
      words when you can just go ahead and read it on my livejournal account. I
      really hoped you enjoyed the first chapter.

      Preview: Next chapter we see how Rogue has been fairing now that she can
      touch. It turns out she is really ticklish. Go here to read chapter 2:
      http://angelofsnow.livejournal.com/2159.html

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