Drabble: Cool Change (X-Men, Rogue/Storm, PG)
Title: Cool Change
Author: Aphrodite_mine
Info: X2, Rogue/Storm (hints of Rogue/Logan and Rogue/Bobby), PG. Title is from a CSI episode.
Additional Note: Significantly revised from the (never posted) first version for my Metric Table. Prompt here is "The only way out is to give in" from "Empty"
It wouldn't be Logan who saved her this time, or Bobby if she was realistic with herself. He was along for the ride in more ways than the literal, standing behind her, breathing down her neck in horror but never having enough balls to grab the controls himself. He could never save her. They were too busy lost in their own trouble and try as she might, she couldn't really blame them for it. After all, there was more to the universe than a troubled little girl with hungry skin, and why shouldn't-really-why shouldn't her sworn protector and her boyfriend be allowed a few moments of self-absorption? The term was ironic, she thought in passing as the jet made a backwards swoop upwards and into the open air along the river. She was gripping the steering controls so tightly that her white gloves only belied the skin turning that same shade underneath. This was even scarier than being in that machine with Magneto's hands cupping her face, his life pouring into hers. This was worse because she had been the one to take the wheel, to sit down in Storm's chair and make the decision that even though she had no idea what she was doing, she had to be the one to flip the switches and come to the rescue.
The computer system made alarming noises, and Bobby's tightening grip on her shoulder wasn't helping either. She thinks that she may have screamed, swerving and shooting the Blackbird forward on gusts of air, seeing only her friends and knowing, instinctively, the danger that was to come. Perhaps today she was to be the hero, but that wasn't what was on her mind. She was taken back there-alone in that whirling menace, energy pumping through her, around her… the metal was everywhere and while she could not control what it was doing, she could feel it, feel it slowing killing her. It was taking beyond what she had to give, spreading out and further out and she was losing the feeling in her fingers, they were gripped so tightly around the controls. She looked through the viewscreen with terrified eyes and somehow managed to land the jet abruptly on a bank of snow.
The bars were still whirling, still taking, taking from her when Bobby stepped away and the hatch lowered to let the others on board. A noise behind her and even though this machine is taking everything, she still has the energy to jump at the sound. The Professor and Nightcrawler appearing, but they ignore her. She's still trapped there, watching helplessly as the energy spreads out through the night sky. Helpless to stop what-
A hand on her shoulder. "Rogue, honey. It's okay." Her eyes open into a pair of darker eyes, knowing, deep eyes, a smooth concerned face and a hand to peel her own from the steering wheel. They are all here, most the worse for wear, and Storm holds her and guides her to her seat. It will be okay, she thinks, even though Pyro-John-is gone, and Jean…
Rogue thinks she can save herself now, and when they get home from Washington, its not Logan or Bobby she seeks. She finds those dark, and sometimes all-white eyes and a gentle hand. It's not much, but in those hard days ahead she thinks that they might be able to save each other.
Author: Aphrodite_mine
Info: X2, Rogue/Storm (hints of Rogue/Logan and Rogue/Bobby), PG. Title is from a CSI episode.
Additional Note: Significantly revised from the (never posted) first version for my Metric Table. Prompt here is "The only way out is to give in" from "Empty"
It wouldn't be Logan who saved her this time, or Bobby if she was realistic with herself. He was along for the ride in more ways than the literal, standing behind her, breathing down her neck in horror but never having enough balls to grab the controls himself. He could never save her. They were too busy lost in their own trouble and try as she might, she couldn't really blame them for it. After all, there was more to the universe than a troubled little girl with hungry skin, and why shouldn't-really-why shouldn't her sworn protector and her boyfriend be allowed a few moments of self-absorption? The term was ironic, she thought in passing as the jet made a backwards swoop upwards and into the open air along the river. She was gripping the steering controls so tightly that her white gloves only belied the skin turning that same shade underneath. This was even scarier than being in that machine with Magneto's hands cupping her face, his life pouring into hers. This was worse because she had been the one to take the wheel, to sit down in Storm's chair and make the decision that even though she had no idea what she was doing, she had to be the one to flip the switches and come to the rescue.
The computer system made alarming noises, and Bobby's tightening grip on her shoulder wasn't helping either. She thinks that she may have screamed, swerving and shooting the Blackbird forward on gusts of air, seeing only her friends and knowing, instinctively, the danger that was to come. Perhaps today she was to be the hero, but that wasn't what was on her mind. She was taken back there-alone in that whirling menace, energy pumping through her, around her… the metal was everywhere and while she could not control what it was doing, she could feel it, feel it slowing killing her. It was taking beyond what she had to give, spreading out and further out and she was losing the feeling in her fingers, they were gripped so tightly around the controls. She looked through the viewscreen with terrified eyes and somehow managed to land the jet abruptly on a bank of snow.
The bars were still whirling, still taking, taking from her when Bobby stepped away and the hatch lowered to let the others on board. A noise behind her and even though this machine is taking everything, she still has the energy to jump at the sound. The Professor and Nightcrawler appearing, but they ignore her. She's still trapped there, watching helplessly as the energy spreads out through the night sky. Helpless to stop what-
A hand on her shoulder. "Rogue, honey. It's okay." Her eyes open into a pair of darker eyes, knowing, deep eyes, a smooth concerned face and a hand to peel her own from the steering wheel. They are all here, most the worse for wear, and Storm holds her and guides her to her seat. It will be okay, she thinks, even though Pyro-John-is gone, and Jean…
Rogue thinks she can save herself now, and when they get home from Washington, its not Logan or Bobby she seeks. She finds those dark, and sometimes all-white eyes and a gentle hand. It's not much, but in those hard days ahead she thinks that they might be able to save each other.