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Fic: Perfect Ring of Scars 10: Hard to Hide

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  • Aericura
    ...and no, we re still not happy. I m such an angstgrrl. :) Title/Part: PRS 10: Hard to Hide Series: Perfect Ring of Scars Author: Shana Nolan E-Mail:
    Message 1 of 1 , Oct 4, 2000
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      ...and no, we're still not happy. I'm such an angstgrrl. :)

      Title/Part: PRS 10: Hard to Hide
      Series: Perfect Ring of Scars
      Author: Shana Nolan
      E-Mail: aericura@...
      Genre: angst!! (J,L,S,R)
      Rating: strong R (implied sexual sitches, language, violence, drug usage)
      Archive: the usual suspects, and others will ask first
      Summary: to quote a line from a later part: "the year from hell"
      Disclaimers: Fox and Marvel Entertainment Group have the X-Men and their
      movie. Stan Lee, I worship at your feet. I don't own anyone and I don't
      intend to sell this. no money, no sue, no powers. but my CB handle was
      Phoenix (great, date yourself, why don't you).
      Comments: are welcome. Flames, however, are only accepted from a mutant
      named Pyro and even he knows better.
      NOTE: I am NOT a doctor. I've taken my share of medications, and I know
      what they do, but that's it. I had a friend that read this that's a nurse,
      she didn't smack me for glaring problems, so hey, go with the flow. :)
      SECOND NOTE: yeah, the other stuff, the kinda illegal stuff in the first
      part, is right. I consulted people who have done just that, and uh, yeah.
      on with the show, and they say "do NOTnotNOT try this at home"


      PRS: Hard to Hide


      "baby's got a problem, tries so hard to hide, got to keep it on the surface,
      because everything else is dead on the other side"


      It was the night that would change everything.


      To his credit, his affections running a little deeper for the southern girl
      than they really should have, he intended well, but the combination of going
      out and enjoying the passage into adulthood as a pair of friends only could,
      but shouldn't, was potent.

      It was nearly deadly.

      Rogue was twenty-one. Despite the fact that in Canada, the country they had
      been lingering in for over a month now, people could drink at nineteen, the
      mark was worth celebrating. She had spent the last week trying to convince
      Scott Summers to go to a club she had heard about, and eventually won him

      The fact that Toronto was a regular host to the now underground and illegal
      raves was not something he had been told about, unsurprisingly enough. He
      may have acted laid back with her, letting her have her fun, but he was
      always and forever the Fearless Leader.

      Luck favoured them in the beginning. The main reason they lingered in
      Ontario-- the sharp rise in Friends of Humanity guerilla violence-- was at a
      standstill for a few days. The cops, though wary and in the pocket of the
      less than sane mayor Lassman, seemed so stressed that they didn't care about
      the little things. Murder, rape and theft were the crimes to stop, not
      groups of clubbers strolling the streets with intention in their mind and
      Ecstasy in their pockets.

      That would be the first, last and only time she would ever try Ecstasy.

      And it wasn't even intentional in the first place.

      He was smart enough to not mix the alcohol types with her, not in high doses
      anyways, her curiosity over the tastes winning over her better judgment.
      When the guys sitting next to them, observing the inebriated couple get a
      little more into the strobing lights and pounding music, they made their
      offer of something even better than alcohol; Scott not hearing it and Rogue
      not knowing what the clubber meant, she agreed.

      It was the worst twenty dollars she would spend in her life, and despite the
      fact that the odd combination of alcohol and a stimulant seemed to negate
      her powers, they would have been better off if she had puked in the alley
      for three hours straight from her third screwdriver.

      The rest was not so unpredictable a happening. Both of them were suitably
      demoralised by chemical means, their friendship was getting bolder by leaps
      and bounds after she accidentally fell into his lap when stumbling from her
      chair, her cheek contacting his bare neck and nothing happening.

      It soon became a challenge to them. See how long it takes for someone to
      drop from the other's power.

      And by the time they reached the safe house that the X-Men had sequestered,
      it had turned sexual, nothing or no one to stop them.

      Not even the sensibilities that would return screaming in both of their ears
      the next morning.


      It was a normal shift for her. Walk the floor when the trauma rooms weren't
      alive with the clamours of machines and the frantic voices of people, check
      on the patients that were there for a stay. When the call came in for an
      accident, especially the multiples or the ones that she would get pulled
      for, it was a rush and blur of the sacred medical practice. Save the life,
      close the wounds, stop the bleeding.

      Send the bodies to the morgue.

      As per her recent trend, she was on her third cup of coffee when the clock
      hit 4am, her hair repulled into a ponytail a half dozen times or more, her
      scrubs already changed two or three times.

      Somehow these were never the glories of medicine her teachers alluded to.

      At 4:23 am, she found herself in the situation she had never imagined. Like
      the bearers of fate, the paramedics rushed in with their loaded gurney and
      rolled the victim into the trauma room, running off the symptoms and stats
      like they always did.

      If only she had known, upon putting the second pair of latex gloves on and
      taking a look at the patient before her, she would be staring into the
      pained eyes of Rogue.

      "My... god..."


      Shaking her head, memories of the Westchester infirmary filling her mind,
      she caught herself. "I'm fine. Alex, what's her symptoms again?"

      The paramedic was a friend, one of Lisa's ex-roommates, and great with
      people. "The guy with her said she started with the severe abdominal
      cramping and bleeding by the vagina. Vomited a couple of times."

      The nurse, inserting the IV needle into Rogue's arm, missing Jean's flinch
      when a gloved hand touched the girl's skin, breathed out, "Sounds like a

      It couldn't be. "I'll be the judge of that. Take a blood panel and I want
      a tox screen to make sure there isn't any kind of poisoning or drugs going
      on here. Get some painkillers into her, demerol-- 5 mg to start. Watch her
      skin though."

      Her medical team nodded at various intervals and set to work, one of the
      first year med students putting on another set of gloves before picking up
      an empty syringe and test tube. They had learned to heed her warnings about
      this kind of situations.

      "Marie, what happened? Talk to me."

      Though the wince was constant, she licked her lips before speaking. "Jean?
      Ah'm so sorry... Ah didn' mean to..."

      "Didn't mean to what?"

      "It was an accident, and we didn' thin'-- ooh, it hurts, god, make it stop,

      Pain, especially coming from someone she knew, could destroy her mental
      walls all too easily. "I want her BP stable and get those panels in right
      away. Get a specialist down too, I'm not taking any chances here."

      The med student paused. "You know this girl, doctor?"

      "Yes, I do." And it still can't be possible.

      One of the other nurses popped his head in. "Doctor Grey?"

      "What?" Her voice was threatening. She didn't want to leave, she couldn't,
      she shouldn't.

      "We got a couple criticals coming in, rig versus mini-van. Doc Angelo wants
      you to handle the pre-teen."

      It was the moment where her former life, present life and everything in
      between crashed together. She couldn't leave Rogue, but she had someone
      else needing her, someone in possibly worse condition than the girl. There
      was too much to consider...

      Just do your job. You're not God. You wouldn't want to be.

      "Get her stabilised and into a room. I'll check back as soon as I can."

      And with that she left, trusting to Fate, fickle creature that it was.


      It took two hours to finally get back to Rogue and check on her. Propped up
      in a bed, an IV running hooked up to her arm, the belle was finally
      sleeping; Jean took the chance to pick up the chart and scan over the

      When she reached the second page, she nearly dropped the chart to the floor.

      "It can't be."

      Checking again, she raised eyes to look over the girl, letting go some of
      the block around her powers to touch at the edge's of Rogue's mind, the
      girl's words echoing in her head. What was she sorry for?

      And why, considering the miracle in someone touching her enough to get the
      girl pregnant in the first place, would it be a cause for remorse? She
      wasn't apologising for the fact that her body had rejected the mass of
      cells, it was...

      Walking out of the room and over to the nurse's desk, she put on her best
      smile. "Who was the man that brought in the girl in room 235?"

      The older woman, her greying hair in a bun held by pencils, indicated the
      waiting room. "Nice looking fella, has the funniest looking sunglasses I've
      seen, but my grandkids would like them. He filled out all the forms, but
      had to list the girl by his last name. Says she never told him hers."

      "Funny thing, that," Jean murmured.

      "So she's down as a Summers, though she doesn't look much like one. Want me
      to call the cops?"

      "No, it's fine. I'm going to go and talk to him."

      A hundred thoughts ran through her head. How would she broach this? Should
      she instigate a fight and risk exposing them all for what they were?

      And what exactly was his role in all of this?

      By the time she hit the waiting room, wading past the other people to stand
      in front of the lightly dozing form of the X-Men's leader, her manner had
      cooled. When she cleared her throat, the false quiet of a doctor settling
      over her, his face raised up to meet her, the glasses hiding the surprise
      and shame in his eyes.

      "Hello, Scott."


      Something was off as he approached the city. Coincidence told him that the
      bike had run out of gas like it always did, but when he cut through the
      streets of Toronto, searching for a place to crash, he caught himself
      fifteen minutes later in the parking lot of a hospital.

      About to turn around and head for the dive of a motel just up the street,
      Logan turned his head and locked eyes with a motorcycle he knew all too

      He had lifted it more than once, after all, and despite the fact that there
      were others like it in the world, the plates were New York.

      There was too much coincidence going on here. Cutting the engine and
      knocking the kickstand down, he resisted the urge to pop his claws and
      walked inside Saint Michaels.


      ready to kill me yet? :) next: Remain

      ...with a serious Logan fetish

      "Bottom line is: even if you see 'em coming, you're not ready the big
      moments. No one asked for their life to change, not really. But it does...
      So what are we, helpless? Puppets? No. The big moment's gonna come, you
      can't help that. It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you
      find out who you are." BtVS
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