Happy Belated Birthday, xenokattz!
Title: So It Begins
Characters: Rogue/Gambit, Logan, Storm, Beast
Rating: PG-13
Warning: kidnapping, implied torture
Word Count: 7020
Disclaimer: Marvel and 20th Century Fox own.
AN: for xenokattz! A very late and very long birthday fic… it just kept going and going! Takes place sometime during X3 and pretty much ignores XO:Wolverine! ;)
The floor was cold and wet and painfully hard. But when her body hit it, she was tired and hurting far too much to protest. She had been flung down onto it by the same two guards that peeled her off the examination table. At least she thought it was the same men. They all wore the same uniform and hid behind the same masks.
A moan of relief escaped her lips when she heard them slam the door shut. Then, she passed out.
…
Once the door locked, he moved cautiously towards the newest prisoner. It had been a few days - seven to be exact - since they had thrown anyone in there with him. Not that it mattered. The prisoners were usually moved out after a day or two and he was left alone again. Story of his life, he figured.
On a positive note, however, he had met some interesting mutants in his cell. And how sad that he thought of it as his? There had been Sarah, very pretty despite what she thought about the bones sticking out of her little face. She was there only a few hours. Forge, who assured him he could remove the collar - every mutant in there was forced to wear one - if only he could get a good enough look at it, but the lighting was poor and with only one lock pick as a tool, he was unable to do anything other than shock himself twice. Still, Forge kept trying to figure out how to take it off without anyone getting their head blown off for the three days he was in there. Lastly and most recent, was Shido. They had not understood each other; Shido did not speak English or French, at least not to him. Each man sat on opposite sides of the room for the two days he was there and then the guy was gone. Now, there was this girl they’d thrown in.
She wasn't moving and he checked her pulse. It was very weak, but present. After carefully turning her over, he brushed away the hair from her face. The strange white streaks running through her chestnut hair caught his attention and when he leaned down closer to inspect it, her eyes flew open and next thing he knew he had his back up against the wall and her forearm was pressed against his throat.
“Who the hell are ya, bub?” she asked.
“Not…with…the guards,” he rasped, restraining his desire to fight her off.
She looked around the small enclosed place, her eyes wide. Her nostrils flared twice and just as quickly as she had catapulted up and pinned him to the wall, she now collapse back to the ground.
It had all happened so fast - a matter of seconds - he wasn’t sure it had happened at all, except his throat hurt something fierce when he tried to swallow.
…
Rogue could hear the words drifting to her from faraway. Like a warm embrace, like a tender caress, soothing her in a way nothing had in a long time. She felt calm, at ease. She snuggled further into her pillow and felt around for her blanket. When she couldn’t find it, she groaned. Had Bobby or one of the other boys pulled one of their stupid pranks again? They claimed stealing and hiding all the blankets was fun, but Rogue suspected they enjoyed sneaking into girls’ rooms for other more obvious reasons.
She grumbled hating to get up just yet, but then she heard those words again. Like a whisper, like a promise. So far away, so close. She forgot about her blanket and let the words keep her warm. Soon, she felt herself drifting back to sleep until she realized a hand ran through her hair. No one, not even Logan, would risk doing that. They knew better.
That’s when it all came rushing back to her. She wasn’t safe at the school. She wasn’t safe at all. Those men...they raided the clinic and before she could get the cure, she was thrown into a black van with who knows how many others.
When they were unloaded from the van, she ripped off her gloves and tried to touch the guards, but they were covered from head to toe. She tried to fight them off with everything Logan had taught her, but it wasn’t enough. A few others tried to fight back as well, but the stun guns were far too effective and she collapsed like all the rest.
They were beaten. She was beaten. She’d felt that level of pain only once before, courtesy of Magneto.
When she woke up again, she was strapped to a table, being poked with needles, all kinds of tubes going in and out of her. The bright light above her hurt her eyes, but she forced her vision into focus. The more she could see, the easier she could find a way out. Unfortunately, she could see nothing, no doors, no windows, nothing useful in her line of sight.
“There is no way out,” a voice informed her, “Therefore, it would be beneficial to all parties involved if you did not resist.”
“What do ya want?” she wanted to ask, but her mouth wouldn’t move and a gurgled sound was the only thing that escaped her lips.
“Here, this should help,” the voice said, but he wasn’t addressing her. She felt something tight around her neck, “Take her. Room 70.”
Was she in room 70 now?
She took a slow, deep breath and opened her eyes in time to see the door slide open and guards walking in. The lovely words ceased instantly. She struggled with renewed energy as she was dragged out to the white room again.
…
Words float around her once more. So soft, so very lovely. And she let them wash over her dulling the pain. Though she didn't understand any of them, they were beautiful. Belle. Desole. Ange.
When she took a deep breath, it hurt, she grimaced. The words grew to soft whispers until she sighed and fell asleep.
The warmth made her think she was back home again. She sighed contently into her blanket until she ceased to straddle the line between sleep and vague awareness, only to realize she wasn’t at home and she was most definitely not hugging her blanket.
Frightened, her eyes flew open. Someone was lying next to her and she couldn’t help the way her breathing grew loud. With great care, afraid she would wake the person, she sat up and moved away. Instantly, feeling cold. Off to the side in the corner lay her green coat. Dusting it off as best she could, she slipped it on. Rogue pulled her knees up to her chest and watched.
A boy, maybe her age, maybe a few years older, still slept. Her cheeks burned for an instant when it became clear she had been sleeping very close to him, side by side almost. His arm had been around her.
What did he want, she wondered. Why was he here? She glanced around the small cell. Why was she?
She remembered the clinic, trying to get the cure, being captured, tied down, tested on. Shuddering, she wrapped her coat closer around herself. She turned to watch the boy instead.
He moved onto his back and his long, auburn hair fell away from his face. Through half-lidded eyes, Rogue found herself tracing the slope of his nose, the angles of his cheekbones, and the curves of his lips. She tried not to blush again.
If only he would wake up she could ask him where they were. That’s when she noticed the thing around his neck, a metal collar with a red blinking light in the middle. With a shaky hand, she reached for her own neck. She didn’t have to, though, she was certain one of those things was around her, too. Her fingers curled around it to yank it off.
“Non, don’t!”
The boy startled her.
“Don’t,” he warned again, “You take it off without the key, it blow you head straight off.”
Rogue nodded. “What is it?” she asked. He was even more...wow, if he looked nice while he slept, awake he was… She swallowed and tried not to stare, focusing intently on the collar around his neck.
“Power inhibitor.”
It took a moment to process, her mind moved slow like molasses. All the pain she was feeling faded away. Eventually, very slowly, the corners of her lips turned up to a full-blown smile. Did he say power inhibitor?
He didn't understand her reaction, she could tell. It didn't matter. Her fingers felt the metal around her neck. This little thing could control her powers? She had the urge to cry and laugh all at the same time!
The momentary relief she felt was soon overshadowed by everything else. Why was someone else trying to control her powers?
“You okay?” he asked.
No, she wasn’t okay! She was tired, in pain, and she didn’t know where the hell she was.
“Chere?”
Her hand froze on the collar and she looked up at him. It hit her then. He was the one who said all those pretty words she didn’t understand. He said something else, but she ignored him and huddled in the corner furthest from him. Eyes shut tight, she covered her ears, wanting to fall asleep, wishing she was somewhere else, somewhere where she didn’t hurt so bad.
…
Rogue woke up feeling worse, her head was throbbing and her body felt weak. Lifting her head, she saw the same boy sitting in the same spot as before. Any minute he would try to talk to her and she would say as little as possible until he left her alone. She waited for him to start talking, but he didnt. He was leaning against the wall looking straight across at nothing. Well, fine, she thought, she didn’t feel like talking anyway, especially not to him.
The door she had been staring at for who knows how long wasn’t all that interesting and she started playing with her fingers, then her hair, and that got old real fast, too. She searched her coat for her phone again hoping it had magically reappeared, but of course, it had been take away.
“What is this place?” she asked, her voice was hoarse and cracked a little as she spoke.
He shrugged, keeping his gaze fixed on the wall.
Rogue sighed and went back to inspecting the hem of her shirt.
…
They came for her again, but she didn’t fight them that time. All night she wondered what Logan would do. She needed to know where she was before she could escape, so she was quiet and walked without much fuss wherever they lead her. Her eyes took in every detail and stored it away.
It was a different procedure that time. Men and women in hazmat suits strapped her to a table, checked her vitals, drew blood, and injected her with something that made her sleepy. Right before she passed out, she saw a man in a white coat appear at her side.
…
Rogue was in her cell again when she woke up. The boy was there, too. She groaned as she sat up. For no apparent reason, he began talking to her again.
“How you feelin’, chere?”
Chere, what does that even mean? “Stop calling meh that!” Ugh, her head! She shouldn't have yelled.
“You got a name, then?”
“What’s it to ya?” she snapped. It wasn’t him she was mad at, but he was the only one there. He was smiling at her when she looked at him again and she felt a little guilty for snapping. “Ah'm Rogue.”
His smile grew and she studied him freely. He wore a beat up brown, leather jacket and had a silky looking blue shirt underneath. Huh, she hadn't noticed that before. She was looking at his torn jeans when she spoke again.
“Well?” She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to him expectantly.
He laughed and it made her want to laugh, too.
“Name’s Gambit.”
…
“’S far as I figure, we’re down in a basement of some sort.”
Rogue couldn’t help but frown at his words. No wonder she never saw any windows.
“Don’t look so sad, chere," he winked, "Must be a way out. How else they bring us in here, hein?”
She ignored the way her stomach fluttered suddenly. “So...ya’ve tried to escape before?” she asked hopeful that maybe, just maybe he could help her. They could even be able to get out together.
“Every time I'm outta this room.”
…
How he managed to get a deck of cards is beside her, but he had them and they played to pass the time. While he taught her how poker was meant to be played - not the way they had been playing at the institute - he reached for her hand.
“Lemme see what you got.”
Instinct and habit made her pull away.
“Wasn’t gonna hurt you,” he said, looking curious and half insulted.
Rogue shook her head looking down at her bare hands, wondering when she'd lost her gloves. “Mah powers. Ah’m not used to not having ‘em is all.”
He sat back and watched her. When she finally looked up at him, he asked, “What are you powers, chere?”
She glanced down at the five cards she held with her bare fingers and said nothing. Saying it out loud would ruin the sad illusion that had built itself around them. There in that dingy, little cell, with the horrible thing around her neck, they could be friends. They could be anything. Once he knew the truth about her - the sad, pathetic truth - he would look at her different. And she didn’t want that, not coming from his eyes.
“Ya gonna teach meh how to play or not, Cajun?”
He chuckled, “Yeah I'ma show you.”
“Good,” she nodded, glad he let it go so easily.
…
Rogue still felt weak, but Gambit coaxed her to try anyway. Kicking her leg out, she maneuvered away from him just like he said, effectively blocking his attack then held him against the wall, his arm twisted behind his back.
“There you go!” he smirked.
She smiled brightly, releasing his arm. “Was never any doubt Ah could take ya,” she said.
“That right?”
Rogue nodded confidently. But in the blink of an eye, he had her against the wall, her hands pinned over her head, his body mere inches from hers. Her stomach clenched at his close proximity.
He was still smirking at her, but this time she couldn’t smile back. Bobby entered her thoughts and she felt guilty for letting Gambit get so close. The guilt didn't last long though.
“You good, chere, but I’m better,” Gambit winked.
She slipped her hands out of his grasp and gave him a light shove then. “Ya full of yaself, that's what ya are.”
“Mebbe,” he conceded with a smile, invading her personal space again while reaching for a strand of white hair, “But tell me you ain’t the least bit-”
“What was that other move ya were gonna show meh?” Rogue asked, cutting him off purposely preventing him from finishing whatever it was he was going to say. Her cheeks burned when he stepped behind her to demonstrate.
…
On her third day there, the guards came for her again and she wondered why they never took him. She was glad for it though, she didn't want him hurt. In the bright, white room something different happened. She was still secured to the bed, her vitals were checked, blood was drawn, but the woman forgot to inject her with whatever it was that made her sleepy. The woman was in a rush, other mutants were being brought in and had to hurry up, apparently. Rogue pretended to sleep anyway.
“Is she ready?” someone asked and Rogue thought it might be the man in the white coat.
“Yes, Dr. Essex,” someone else replied.
“Good. Remove the collar.”
It took all of Rogue’s restraint not to thrash out and reach for someone’s, anyone’s bare skin. Her breathing quickened, but she forced herself to take long, deep breaths. The last thing she wanted was to give herself away.
She was poked with cold instruments near her abdomen for a few minutes. Gloved hands pressed against her skin and then nothing. Footsteps, movement, everything ceased and she wasn't sure if she should open her eyes or not.
“She is ready,” Essex said and Rogue felt sick at how pleased he sounded, “Tomorrow we begin. Take her and bring me LeBeau.”
The collar was secured around her neck, then Rogue was carried off. When she was thrown back in her cell, Gambit was gone.
…
Hours, so many hours passed and Gambit wasn’t brought back. She wondered if perhaps he managed to escape. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. Maybe he was moved to another cell. What if he was hurt? Or worse? The tears began to form and she felt stupid for wanting to cry. They had only known each other a few days. Not enough time to expect anything more than a few conversations to pass the time. Or a few moments of flirting, she thought with a smile. He didn’t owe her a thing. If could get out of that place, he should.
The door opened suddenly, Gambit was tossed carelessly inside, and the door slammed shut. He groaned as he hit the floor. What had they done to him? Had he tried to escape again?
“Are y’all okay?” she whispered. She felt guilty, like her having wondered why they never took him made it happen somehow.
“Jus' fine, petite,” he lied through gritted teeth.
Her voice was louder the second time, “Y’all ain’t fine.” She moved closer. “Ain’t no shame in asking for help, Gambit.” She was so dang happy he was back with her again, she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t being nicer. How was she going to help him anyway?
He was curled into a fetal position and she wondered what hurt him most. He grabbed at his stomach and when he started trembling, she started to worry. “Ya cold?”
There was no reply, but he shook his head a bit.
“Well, in case ya are…” she removed her green coat and placed it on him. It didn't help, the trembling continued. She knew what she had to do.
Chewing her bottom lip, she lied down behind him, curling her body around his. Even without the collars, they were both covered from head to toe, she rationalized. Yet, it was strange - even frightening - being so close to someone, wrapping her arms carefully around them. The fluttering in her stomach began again but she ignored it.
His shaking stopped some and she knew she has to do something to distract him from the pain. He helped her with that much when she first arrived, it was the least she could do. Possibly the only thing, too, so she opened her mouth and started telling him about long, hot summer days along the Mississippi, impromptu picnics just to get outta the house, and how much she missed the deep fried chicken from back home.
The trembling ceased by the time she was done and she hoped he had fallen asleep. “G’night,” she whispered into his shoulder. Soon, Rogue was fast asleep as well.
…
Rogue was so comfortable she didnt want to wake up. There was something wrong though, she felt it. With great reluctance, she forced herself from her peaceful slumber to consciousness. When she opened her eyes, she knew why her body had been trying to warn her.
“Mornin’, chere.”
Gambit. He had been lying next to her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Wasn’t she the one trying to keep him warm last night?
“Morning,” she replied, sitting up. There was nothing to be embarrassed about, she told herself, but she blushed anyway.
Still lying on the ground, he looked up at her, an amused expression on his face. Both of his arms were tucked behind his head and his gaze lingered on her.
“Couldn't wait to get your hands on me, chere?”
Rogue blinked a few times. “What!?” She was trying to help him!
“Don't blame you,” he shrugged, “Femmes, they can't seem to help themselves.”
She rolled her eyes in annoyance. Seemed like the pain he was in last night was all gone. Actually, he didn't look like he'd been trapped in a cell either. He was all conceited charm and ease. Rogue groaned inwardly, she did not think him charming. She did not! Even if his hair looked good, even if he looked good.
She on the other hand... Her long, brown hair and the white streaks framing her face were a tangled mess. It didn't seem to matter though. The way he looked at her, like he was a starving man and she was his favorite kind of meal, made her nervous. No one had ever watched her so intently. Sure some of the boys at school eyed her when she first arrived, but it was nothing like his piercing gaze.
“What?” she asked again, that time feeling self-conscious.
“Nothin',” he smiled lazily.
The way his eyes twinkled…it was kinda hard to resist. But when she noticed the nasty bruise on the side of his face, her smile faded. All she wanted to do was reach out and try to make him feel better again.
“What else they do, Gambit?” Her voice was soft.
His casual demeanor was gone as he stood up.
“Nothin',” he spit out, “They didn’t get a chance,” is all he said and Rogue knew he tried to escape. It was probably why they beat him up and why he was hurting so bad the previous night. It made her angry, which she knew she had no right to be, but the anger was there nonetheless. His cards appeared in his hands as if by magic and the way he wouldn’t even look at her irritated her all the more. And it wasn't that she missed the way he had been looking at her either!
“What kind of name is Gambit anyway?” she asked, sounding annoyed.
There was a half-smile playing on his lips when he looked down at her over his shoulder. “What kind of name is Rogue?”
Before she could reply, the doors slid open. Eyes full of hate, Gambit charged for the guards, but he was tased before he could much.
Soon, Rogue was in the white room. The woman taking her vitals wasn’t wearing a hazmat suit. Neither was the man off to the side setting instruments down on a silver tray. But, that was not their biggest mistake. Apparently, playing docile had paid off because her right hand wasn’t nearly as secure as it looked. She could actually slip her hand in and out of the restraints. Knowing she wasn’t going to get a better opportunity, Rogue took a deep breath and waited for the right moment.
She promised that once she was out of there, she would make the X-men come back for him. Something told her Gambit wouldn't leave her alone for too long and neither would she.
…
“Anything, Professor?”
“I'm afraid not, Logan. Rogue has not used her powers. If she would have, Cerebro and I would have picked up on it.”
“Maybe she decided not to come back after taking the cure.” Logan glared at Storm.
"I will continue to search," Xavier assure him.
Logan nodded in reply before stalking out of the office.
…
Dr. Essex approached Rogue's bed.
“No, no sedative,” he said to the woman. He looked down at Rogue, then. “I want you to remember this. If you manage to survive the surgery,” he added with a disturbing turn of his lips.
She knew it was time.
Rogue slipped her hand out of the restraints. “Go to hell,” she yelled and reached for Essex. When she grabbed a hold of his hand, she did not let go.
…
The collar was back around her neck when she woke up. Her head was pounding, assaulting her with all the horrible images she took from Dr. Essex, no, he was Sinister now. When she finally managed to open her eyes, Gambit was sitting next to her holding her hand. She stared at that for a while, her hand in his. The fact that she was touching someone without fear of draining them dry wasn't what made her cry. The memory of his hands glowing, hurting, that did.
Rogue sat up and slipped her hand from his. The tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t seem to stop.
“Chere, what's wrong?” he asked, slowing placing his arm around her. "What they do to you?" his voice darkened and his hold on her tightened.
“Ah’m sorry, Remy,” she whispered, “Ah’m so sorry.”
“Sorry f’ what, chere?” he was going to ask, but at the sound of his name, he froze.
…
“You come highly recommended, Mr. LeBeau.”
“I’m de best,” Remy shrugged. He sat back in his chair, his fedora hiding his eyes, “But won’t be taking y’ money. Stealing things, no problem. Stealing people, not gonna happen, d’accord?”
“I can help you,” Sinister promised, “I can turn your powers into something you’ve only ever dreamed of.”
“M’ powers are jus' fine and I don’t need y’ help.”
.
One mutant. Then, two. Three. Too many to count.
Captured. Tied down. Tested on. So many surgeries, so much blood, so many dead.
Wrong mutant, wrong power, Sinister blamed his victims for his failing. But he wasn't about to stop. He would do it over and over again, until he got what he wanted.
.
“I offered to help you before,” Sinister sneered.
“Help me now!” Remy pleaded. His hands were glowing a bright fuchsia, brighter and brighter... He fell to his knees, unshed tears filled his eyes. He touched a table and it blew up in a matter of seconds. He touched a chair, then a counter. He hollered in pain until he collapsed from it.
“Take him,” Sinister ordered, “Room 70.”
Sinister watched, hardly able to contain his elation, as the collar snapped into place around LeBeau’s neck.
…
Gambit let go of Rogue, nearly shoved her away, and sat back.
She wiped her eyes and watched him, not understanding his reaction.
“How y’ know dat name, girl?” he asked, his accent growing thicker with each word.
Rogue looked away. She knew her powers would ruin…this. Just like they ruined everything else.
“Mah powers,” she explained, looking down at her hands, “Ah touched Sinister and took some of his memories.”
“Y' steal-take people’s memories?” She could feel him looking at the collar around her neck, probably grateful it was there.
Rogue shook her head, “That’s only part of it.” Her eyes were completely dry now. When she talked about her powers, she grew numb, became mechanical like a robot. It hurt less. She proceeded to explain as it had been explained a thousand times, it seemed. “When Ah make skin to skin contact with a person, Ah absorb their thoughts, their memories, their life force. When that person’s a mutant, Ah take their power, too. Ah can’t control it,” she added softly.
His jaw tightened and they sat in an uncomfortable silence.
“So…you touched Sinister and learned my name?” The distrust lacing his words was gone and he sounded like himself again, “Learn anything else?”
When she finally looked up at him, she could see him trying too hard to look relaxed. She had seen that expression countless times at the school. Folks trying to pretend they were okay with having her around, pretending they weren’t scared shitless.
“Not much,” she lied because he had that look in his eye now, the one she dreaded before. He was appalled, on edge, curious, all in one. It made her want to scream, it always did, but she swallowed it away as usual. “Some of what Ah see doesn’t make sense. Thoughts and memories are all jumbled together and Ah can’t get a clear picture.”
“Was hoping maybe you learned the way outta here,” he grinned, but it was too forced and Rogue only sighed.
“Ah can’t…Ah don’t chose the information Ah absorb.”
He didn’t say anything to that, but moved closer.
She held her hand up, “Don’t.”
He remained in place.
Despite the collar around her neck, she wanted her gloves, badly. She needed the sad comfort they brought. Since she didn’t have them, she crossed her arms, her hands hidden away close to her body.
“Listen, chere,” he tried again, “Didn’t mean-”
“It’s fine,” she shrugged, “It…doesn’t matter.”
“Matters to me,” he smiled a little.
She scoffed, “Didn’t matter a few minutes ago.”
“Sure it did,” he laughed, sounding relieved. “’S only I thought maybe Sinister turned you.”
Rogue made a face, “Turned meh into wh-oh. Well, no, Sinister didn’t turn meh.”
“Not that I’d blame you,” Gambit assured her, moving to sit next to her. She let him that time. “When you in a place like this, you do what you gotta to get out, non?”
Turning her gaze up to his, she saw it so clearly then. He had done just that.
”You’ve done well, Gambit.”
“Did my part, d’accord?”
“Yes, you’ve brought them all to me.”
“Now, 'm gone.”
Sinister smiled, “I’m afraid not, LeBeau. Someone like you should be working with me.”
“Won’t be doing that again!” Remy swore.
“That is too bad. Too bad, indeed. Get him!”
Remy fought Sinister’s men, but there were too many of them and eventually he was taken down.
“Room 70,” Sinister ordered.
Rogue turned to him. She had so many questions. “Gambit…?”
“Yeah?”
Thinking better of it, she shook her head, “Nothing.”
“What is it, chere?”
It wasn’t any of her business. She gave him a small smile, “Ah’m just tired.”
…
Rogue walked the dark halls, counting off the mutants behind the reinforced doors. Planning, plotting the best way to use each and every one. She had designs for them all, for every last one.
Suddenly, she was cutting into an unknown mutant with a scalpel. Then, another. Many died by her hand on the operating table. The ones that survived were brought back in a day or two. She was working on Remy next. He screamed. There was blood everywhere. She wanted to stop, but she kept doing things to him. Horrible, horrifying things. She shut her eyes and when she opened them again, she was back near Ellis Island.
Magneto had just finished using her powers against her. She was yelling, her hands hurt, her whole body hurt. Then, her hands began to glow and she was so scared. She wasn’t just going to kill everyone there, she was going to blow it all up. Her hands were glowing until everything was a bright fuchsia color. Both hands burned, ached. She was on fire, she couldn’t control it any longer and screamed one last time as it all ceased to exist.
“No!” she yelled, sitting up.
It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t dead. She hadn’t killed her friends and all those people or destroyed that small island.
Gambit sat up next to her. Rogue began trying to explain it, the nightmare she had. But she could hear the words leaving her mouth and she wasn’t making much sense. They were fragments of what she saw - experienced - pieces that couldn’t explain the whole picture.
“Shh, petite, ‘s ok. Everything’s ok now.” He hugged her close, but she pulled away. He didn’t let her. “The collar’s in place, Rogue. You won’t hurt me.” A few of her tears fell against his chest, staining the blue shirt a darker shade. “Just a bad dream ‘s all,” he whispered, running his hand along her back.
But it wasn’t okay. A lot of it happened. To her. To him.
Gently with a finger, he lifted her head up to his then wiped the tears from her face. She barely flinched at the contact. “We’ll get outta here, chere. We will.”
Her eyes locked into his and she believed him. Anything he said in that moment, she would have believed.
The hard floor and the rough, cold walls faded away in that moment and it was just the two of them. He was so close now, she wanted to get up and run away.
“Won’t hurt you none,” he promised.
“Remy…” she sighed, her hand was on his arm ready to stop him, but he was so warm under her fingertips. So soft and warm and again she found herself thanking the miserable collar around her neck.
His lips were barely a whisper against hers making her eyes flutter shut. The ground beneath them shook and Rogue pulled back, a small smile on her face.
“Whoa…”
When Remy pulled her in for another kiss, she didn’t resist.
He was hot everywhere she touched, his arms, his chest. His hair was so soft, she ran her fingers through it trying to memorize the texture, the feel of it, the feel of him.
His hands cradled her face while his lips slid against hers and she moaned as she leaned further into him.
The ground shook again. And then, loudly, the door was sliced open and they broke apart in time to see Wolverine step into their small cell.
“Logan!” she jumped up and hugged him.
“Time to go, kid,” he smiled, hugging her too, but his eyes were on the boy now standing.
“Who’s this?” Logan asked, eyebrows narrowed together.
Rogue looked over at Remy, smiling, “He’s coming with us.”
“You got a name, bub?”
An easy grin came over Remy's face. “'S Gambit.”
Logan didn’t like him already and had the strong urge to slice that grin off the boy's face.
“Logan, we gotta get outta here!”
Wolverine turned to her and nodded. “Place is full of guards,” he warned, “Keep yer eyes open.”
Rogue followed him out. When she looked behind her, Remy was heading the opposite way.
“Gambit!” she yelled after him, then ducked when something exploded above them.
“Can’t leave yet, chere.”
“We gotta go, sugah! We’ll get Sinister next time.”
Gambit shook his head, his face somber. “Can’t leave all these mutants behind.”
“Yes, you’ve brought them all to me.”
She remembered Sinister’s words and knew she wasn’t going to change his mind. “We better
hurry then.”
“Rogue!” Logan called after her, but she had already disappeared down the hall behind Gambit.
Logan cursed aloud, he really didn’t like that boy.
…
“Storm get us out of here!” Logan growled.
“Is everyone safely on board?” she asked, as she began the sequence that would have the X-Jet up in the air within seconds.
Logan scowled, “Everyone’s on board.”
Storm looked over at him, the worry evident in his eyes despite his attempt to hide it. “Where is Rogue?” she asked. Ororo did not agree with the girl's decision to take the cure, but she still cared about her one-time student. “Logan?”
He took the seat next to her in case she needed backup flying them out of there. “She’s here.” Storm let out a sigh of relief. “It’s some of the others,” Logan continued, “That kid - Gambit - he didn’t-”
“Logan!” Beast yelled and Logan ran to the doctor near the back of the plane.
Gambit was laying on the floor, Beast trying to stop the bleeding. Rogue was kneeling next to them, eyes wide, bare hands on her lap. When Logan took a knee at her side, she turned to him.
Immediately, Beast grabbed Logan’s hands and placed them over Gambit’s chest, “Here, put pressure. I need to retrieve the medical kit.”
Logan nodded.
“He…he took a bullet for meh, Logan…”
“I know, kid.” He’d seen the whole thing. Seen how Gambit looked possessed, frantically working to get every last mutant out. They found a guard in an operating room with the keys they needed to get rid of those collars around their necks. From then on, Rogue kept her distance from the boy, but he didn’t seem to notice and insisted she stay close.
Everything was going their way until they were almost out the door. Logan was a few feet behind carrying two kids who were too weak to walk on their own. Beast was behind him with another injured pair when a group of guards jumped out of nowhere to block their exit. Gambit unleashed a flurry of charged cards, taking most of them out. Only one guard was left standing, but one was all it took.
The X-Jet shook violently bringing Logan back to the present. Some of the kids screamed in fear, which seemed to startle Rogue out of her daze. She jumped up and ran towards one of the other students, returning with a pair of gloves. “Go help Storm! Ah got 'im.”
Logan's gaze traveled between Rogue and Gambit. Only a minute ago she looked completely miserable, but now she was intent on stopping the bleeding while the boy fought for his life.
“Beast, hurry!” Logan yelled as he maneuvered his way to the cockpit. Gambit had saved Rogue's life and whatever else happened, Logan would always be grateful to him for that.
…
“Gambit!” Wolverine growled and the entire school knew Remy was late to another Danger Room training session. Logan found Rogue in the kitchen, “Where's yer boyfriend?”
“He ain't mah boyfriend, Logan.” He wasn't. Boyfriends just made everything more complicated, which is why she'd ended things with Bobby as soon as she was able.
Logan raised an eyebrow obviously not believing her. “You see Gumbo before I do, tell 'im 'Ro ain't here today to save his sorry ass.”
“Ah ain't no messenger,” she replied, but he was already walking away muttering something about lazy, good-for-nothing cajuns.
Rogue was done drying the last of the dishes when she felt him standing behind her.
“Logan's looking for ya,” she said without turning around to face him.
He stepped closer. “Question is,” his breath caressing the side of her neck, “Why ain't you lookin' for me, chere?”
She let her eyes fall shut for a moment, enjoying the way her body tingled because he near. But, quickly, she snapped out of it. She knew better. He was a flirt, shamelessly flirting with all the girls, even some of the teachers- he was definitely a favorite of Storm's. Still, everyone, even Rogue, had to admit that whenever she entered a room he was in, he only had eyes for her.
She tried to tell herself it was simply because of what they'd been through, sharing that cell for nearly four days, but there was something else. Something more.
His hands were on her waist with a barely-there, feather-light touch. Half of the time she enjoyed his attentions, the other half, she was annoyed with him for not taking her powers seriously enough. Her skin was dangerous, poison, but he didn't seem to care. Since the moment he woke up in that med lab bed with her at his side, he never cared.
His eyes flew open and he tried to sit up, tugging at the cables monitoring his condition.
“Remy, stop, ya safe now!”
When his eyes fell on her face they flashed red and he smiled.
“Rogue,” he reached for her, but she stepped back.
“Mah powers,” she explained when she saw the hurt flash across his face.
He schooled his expression as he jumped off the bed. “Where are we?” he asked, taking in his surroundings.
Rogue told him everything that happened. He didn't seem too concerned with what he went through or how close he'd been to dying. They were both alive and outta that place, that was all that mattered, he said. Besides, his smile returned, he was more interested in what they had been in the middle of before her angry friend showed up.
“Remy, ya know we can't,” Rogue began, finally turning to look at him. His hands were still on her waist and he somehow moved closer without seeming to move.
Gambit only offered a cocky grin. It wasn't the first time she'd said those very same words to him. Probably not the last either.
“You too worried 'bout what we can't do, chere,” he leaned closer still, the dish towel falling from her hand as his hands moved up from her waist along her rib cage. “Let's focus on what we can do,” he grinned, infecting her for a moment with his optimism.
She chewed on her bottom lip. His hands, his words were making her feel hot. She knew he was good with words, from the beginning she knew. He was smooth unlike anyone else and when he started talking, her thoughts blurred and nothing else made sense.
His eyes flashed red and he was only a breath away, but she stopped him in time. “Boy, ya itchin' ta get hurt?”
Remy laughed, loving the way her accent came at him full force sometimes, but he stepped back to give her some space. “Still on f' dinner?”
“Not if ya can't keep those hands ta yaself,” she replied, but it was an empty threat. They were together more often than not. It was just the way things worked now, ever since Storm made him an offer to join the team. He said he'd consider it, but his mind had been made up long before, which surprised him.
“‘M not making any promises,” Remy winked. It wasn't like him to put so much effort into one other person no matter how belle, but he just couldn't help himself around her. “‘Til then, ma chere,” he bowed slightly and kissed the back of her gloved hand, leaving a smiling Rogue shaking her head in the kitchen.
Damn Cajun was up to something, she could tell. But honestly, she couldn't wait.
Characters: Rogue/Gambit, Logan, Storm, Beast
Rating: PG-13
Warning: kidnapping, implied torture
Word Count: 7020
Disclaimer: Marvel and 20th Century Fox own.
AN: for xenokattz! A very late and very long birthday fic… it just kept going and going! Takes place sometime during X3 and pretty much ignores XO:Wolverine! ;)
The floor was cold and wet and painfully hard. But when her body hit it, she was tired and hurting far too much to protest. She had been flung down onto it by the same two guards that peeled her off the examination table. At least she thought it was the same men. They all wore the same uniform and hid behind the same masks.
A moan of relief escaped her lips when she heard them slam the door shut. Then, she passed out.
…
Once the door locked, he moved cautiously towards the newest prisoner. It had been a few days - seven to be exact - since they had thrown anyone in there with him. Not that it mattered. The prisoners were usually moved out after a day or two and he was left alone again. Story of his life, he figured.
On a positive note, however, he had met some interesting mutants in his cell. And how sad that he thought of it as his? There had been Sarah, very pretty despite what she thought about the bones sticking out of her little face. She was there only a few hours. Forge, who assured him he could remove the collar - every mutant in there was forced to wear one - if only he could get a good enough look at it, but the lighting was poor and with only one lock pick as a tool, he was unable to do anything other than shock himself twice. Still, Forge kept trying to figure out how to take it off without anyone getting their head blown off for the three days he was in there. Lastly and most recent, was Shido. They had not understood each other; Shido did not speak English or French, at least not to him. Each man sat on opposite sides of the room for the two days he was there and then the guy was gone. Now, there was this girl they’d thrown in.
She wasn't moving and he checked her pulse. It was very weak, but present. After carefully turning her over, he brushed away the hair from her face. The strange white streaks running through her chestnut hair caught his attention and when he leaned down closer to inspect it, her eyes flew open and next thing he knew he had his back up against the wall and her forearm was pressed against his throat.
“Who the hell are ya, bub?” she asked.
“Not…with…the guards,” he rasped, restraining his desire to fight her off.
She looked around the small enclosed place, her eyes wide. Her nostrils flared twice and just as quickly as she had catapulted up and pinned him to the wall, she now collapse back to the ground.
It had all happened so fast - a matter of seconds - he wasn’t sure it had happened at all, except his throat hurt something fierce when he tried to swallow.
…
Rogue could hear the words drifting to her from faraway. Like a warm embrace, like a tender caress, soothing her in a way nothing had in a long time. She felt calm, at ease. She snuggled further into her pillow and felt around for her blanket. When she couldn’t find it, she groaned. Had Bobby or one of the other boys pulled one of their stupid pranks again? They claimed stealing and hiding all the blankets was fun, but Rogue suspected they enjoyed sneaking into girls’ rooms for other more obvious reasons.
She grumbled hating to get up just yet, but then she heard those words again. Like a whisper, like a promise. So far away, so close. She forgot about her blanket and let the words keep her warm. Soon, she felt herself drifting back to sleep until she realized a hand ran through her hair. No one, not even Logan, would risk doing that. They knew better.
That’s when it all came rushing back to her. She wasn’t safe at the school. She wasn’t safe at all. Those men...they raided the clinic and before she could get the cure, she was thrown into a black van with who knows how many others.
When they were unloaded from the van, she ripped off her gloves and tried to touch the guards, but they were covered from head to toe. She tried to fight them off with everything Logan had taught her, but it wasn’t enough. A few others tried to fight back as well, but the stun guns were far too effective and she collapsed like all the rest.
They were beaten. She was beaten. She’d felt that level of pain only once before, courtesy of Magneto.
When she woke up again, she was strapped to a table, being poked with needles, all kinds of tubes going in and out of her. The bright light above her hurt her eyes, but she forced her vision into focus. The more she could see, the easier she could find a way out. Unfortunately, she could see nothing, no doors, no windows, nothing useful in her line of sight.
“There is no way out,” a voice informed her, “Therefore, it would be beneficial to all parties involved if you did not resist.”
“What do ya want?” she wanted to ask, but her mouth wouldn’t move and a gurgled sound was the only thing that escaped her lips.
“Here, this should help,” the voice said, but he wasn’t addressing her. She felt something tight around her neck, “Take her. Room 70.”
Was she in room 70 now?
She took a slow, deep breath and opened her eyes in time to see the door slide open and guards walking in. The lovely words ceased instantly. She struggled with renewed energy as she was dragged out to the white room again.
…
Words float around her once more. So soft, so very lovely. And she let them wash over her dulling the pain. Though she didn't understand any of them, they were beautiful. Belle. Desole. Ange.
When she took a deep breath, it hurt, she grimaced. The words grew to soft whispers until she sighed and fell asleep.
The warmth made her think she was back home again. She sighed contently into her blanket until she ceased to straddle the line between sleep and vague awareness, only to realize she wasn’t at home and she was most definitely not hugging her blanket.
Frightened, her eyes flew open. Someone was lying next to her and she couldn’t help the way her breathing grew loud. With great care, afraid she would wake the person, she sat up and moved away. Instantly, feeling cold. Off to the side in the corner lay her green coat. Dusting it off as best she could, she slipped it on. Rogue pulled her knees up to her chest and watched.
A boy, maybe her age, maybe a few years older, still slept. Her cheeks burned for an instant when it became clear she had been sleeping very close to him, side by side almost. His arm had been around her.
What did he want, she wondered. Why was he here? She glanced around the small cell. Why was she?
She remembered the clinic, trying to get the cure, being captured, tied down, tested on. Shuddering, she wrapped her coat closer around herself. She turned to watch the boy instead.
He moved onto his back and his long, auburn hair fell away from his face. Through half-lidded eyes, Rogue found herself tracing the slope of his nose, the angles of his cheekbones, and the curves of his lips. She tried not to blush again.
If only he would wake up she could ask him where they were. That’s when she noticed the thing around his neck, a metal collar with a red blinking light in the middle. With a shaky hand, she reached for her own neck. She didn’t have to, though, she was certain one of those things was around her, too. Her fingers curled around it to yank it off.
“Non, don’t!”
The boy startled her.
“Don’t,” he warned again, “You take it off without the key, it blow you head straight off.”
Rogue nodded. “What is it?” she asked. He was even more...wow, if he looked nice while he slept, awake he was… She swallowed and tried not to stare, focusing intently on the collar around his neck.
“Power inhibitor.”
It took a moment to process, her mind moved slow like molasses. All the pain she was feeling faded away. Eventually, very slowly, the corners of her lips turned up to a full-blown smile. Did he say power inhibitor?
He didn't understand her reaction, she could tell. It didn't matter. Her fingers felt the metal around her neck. This little thing could control her powers? She had the urge to cry and laugh all at the same time!
The momentary relief she felt was soon overshadowed by everything else. Why was someone else trying to control her powers?
“You okay?” he asked.
No, she wasn’t okay! She was tired, in pain, and she didn’t know where the hell she was.
“Chere?”
Her hand froze on the collar and she looked up at him. It hit her then. He was the one who said all those pretty words she didn’t understand. He said something else, but she ignored him and huddled in the corner furthest from him. Eyes shut tight, she covered her ears, wanting to fall asleep, wishing she was somewhere else, somewhere where she didn’t hurt so bad.
…
Rogue woke up feeling worse, her head was throbbing and her body felt weak. Lifting her head, she saw the same boy sitting in the same spot as before. Any minute he would try to talk to her and she would say as little as possible until he left her alone. She waited for him to start talking, but he didnt. He was leaning against the wall looking straight across at nothing. Well, fine, she thought, she didn’t feel like talking anyway, especially not to him.
The door she had been staring at for who knows how long wasn’t all that interesting and she started playing with her fingers, then her hair, and that got old real fast, too. She searched her coat for her phone again hoping it had magically reappeared, but of course, it had been take away.
“What is this place?” she asked, her voice was hoarse and cracked a little as she spoke.
He shrugged, keeping his gaze fixed on the wall.
Rogue sighed and went back to inspecting the hem of her shirt.
…
They came for her again, but she didn’t fight them that time. All night she wondered what Logan would do. She needed to know where she was before she could escape, so she was quiet and walked without much fuss wherever they lead her. Her eyes took in every detail and stored it away.
It was a different procedure that time. Men and women in hazmat suits strapped her to a table, checked her vitals, drew blood, and injected her with something that made her sleepy. Right before she passed out, she saw a man in a white coat appear at her side.
…
Rogue was in her cell again when she woke up. The boy was there, too. She groaned as she sat up. For no apparent reason, he began talking to her again.
“How you feelin’, chere?”
Chere, what does that even mean? “Stop calling meh that!” Ugh, her head! She shouldn't have yelled.
“You got a name, then?”
“What’s it to ya?” she snapped. It wasn’t him she was mad at, but he was the only one there. He was smiling at her when she looked at him again and she felt a little guilty for snapping. “Ah'm Rogue.”
His smile grew and she studied him freely. He wore a beat up brown, leather jacket and had a silky looking blue shirt underneath. Huh, she hadn't noticed that before. She was looking at his torn jeans when she spoke again.
“Well?” She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to him expectantly.
He laughed and it made her want to laugh, too.
“Name’s Gambit.”
…
“’S far as I figure, we’re down in a basement of some sort.”
Rogue couldn’t help but frown at his words. No wonder she never saw any windows.
“Don’t look so sad, chere," he winked, "Must be a way out. How else they bring us in here, hein?”
She ignored the way her stomach fluttered suddenly. “So...ya’ve tried to escape before?” she asked hopeful that maybe, just maybe he could help her. They could even be able to get out together.
“Every time I'm outta this room.”
…
How he managed to get a deck of cards is beside her, but he had them and they played to pass the time. While he taught her how poker was meant to be played - not the way they had been playing at the institute - he reached for her hand.
“Lemme see what you got.”
Instinct and habit made her pull away.
“Wasn’t gonna hurt you,” he said, looking curious and half insulted.
Rogue shook her head looking down at her bare hands, wondering when she'd lost her gloves. “Mah powers. Ah’m not used to not having ‘em is all.”
He sat back and watched her. When she finally looked up at him, he asked, “What are you powers, chere?”
She glanced down at the five cards she held with her bare fingers and said nothing. Saying it out loud would ruin the sad illusion that had built itself around them. There in that dingy, little cell, with the horrible thing around her neck, they could be friends. They could be anything. Once he knew the truth about her - the sad, pathetic truth - he would look at her different. And she didn’t want that, not coming from his eyes.
“Ya gonna teach meh how to play or not, Cajun?”
He chuckled, “Yeah I'ma show you.”
“Good,” she nodded, glad he let it go so easily.
…
Rogue still felt weak, but Gambit coaxed her to try anyway. Kicking her leg out, she maneuvered away from him just like he said, effectively blocking his attack then held him against the wall, his arm twisted behind his back.
“There you go!” he smirked.
She smiled brightly, releasing his arm. “Was never any doubt Ah could take ya,” she said.
“That right?”
Rogue nodded confidently. But in the blink of an eye, he had her against the wall, her hands pinned over her head, his body mere inches from hers. Her stomach clenched at his close proximity.
He was still smirking at her, but this time she couldn’t smile back. Bobby entered her thoughts and she felt guilty for letting Gambit get so close. The guilt didn't last long though.
“You good, chere, but I’m better,” Gambit winked.
She slipped her hands out of his grasp and gave him a light shove then. “Ya full of yaself, that's what ya are.”
“Mebbe,” he conceded with a smile, invading her personal space again while reaching for a strand of white hair, “But tell me you ain’t the least bit-”
“What was that other move ya were gonna show meh?” Rogue asked, cutting him off purposely preventing him from finishing whatever it was he was going to say. Her cheeks burned when he stepped behind her to demonstrate.
…
On her third day there, the guards came for her again and she wondered why they never took him. She was glad for it though, she didn't want him hurt. In the bright, white room something different happened. She was still secured to the bed, her vitals were checked, blood was drawn, but the woman forgot to inject her with whatever it was that made her sleepy. The woman was in a rush, other mutants were being brought in and had to hurry up, apparently. Rogue pretended to sleep anyway.
“Is she ready?” someone asked and Rogue thought it might be the man in the white coat.
“Yes, Dr. Essex,” someone else replied.
“Good. Remove the collar.”
It took all of Rogue’s restraint not to thrash out and reach for someone’s, anyone’s bare skin. Her breathing quickened, but she forced herself to take long, deep breaths. The last thing she wanted was to give herself away.
She was poked with cold instruments near her abdomen for a few minutes. Gloved hands pressed against her skin and then nothing. Footsteps, movement, everything ceased and she wasn't sure if she should open her eyes or not.
“She is ready,” Essex said and Rogue felt sick at how pleased he sounded, “Tomorrow we begin. Take her and bring me LeBeau.”
The collar was secured around her neck, then Rogue was carried off. When she was thrown back in her cell, Gambit was gone.
…
Hours, so many hours passed and Gambit wasn’t brought back. She wondered if perhaps he managed to escape. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. Maybe he was moved to another cell. What if he was hurt? Or worse? The tears began to form and she felt stupid for wanting to cry. They had only known each other a few days. Not enough time to expect anything more than a few conversations to pass the time. Or a few moments of flirting, she thought with a smile. He didn’t owe her a thing. If could get out of that place, he should.
The door opened suddenly, Gambit was tossed carelessly inside, and the door slammed shut. He groaned as he hit the floor. What had they done to him? Had he tried to escape again?
“Are y’all okay?” she whispered. She felt guilty, like her having wondered why they never took him made it happen somehow.
“Jus' fine, petite,” he lied through gritted teeth.
Her voice was louder the second time, “Y’all ain’t fine.” She moved closer. “Ain’t no shame in asking for help, Gambit.” She was so dang happy he was back with her again, she wasn’t sure why she wasn’t being nicer. How was she going to help him anyway?
He was curled into a fetal position and she wondered what hurt him most. He grabbed at his stomach and when he started trembling, she started to worry. “Ya cold?”
There was no reply, but he shook his head a bit.
“Well, in case ya are…” she removed her green coat and placed it on him. It didn't help, the trembling continued. She knew what she had to do.
Chewing her bottom lip, she lied down behind him, curling her body around his. Even without the collars, they were both covered from head to toe, she rationalized. Yet, it was strange - even frightening - being so close to someone, wrapping her arms carefully around them. The fluttering in her stomach began again but she ignored it.
His shaking stopped some and she knew she has to do something to distract him from the pain. He helped her with that much when she first arrived, it was the least she could do. Possibly the only thing, too, so she opened her mouth and started telling him about long, hot summer days along the Mississippi, impromptu picnics just to get outta the house, and how much she missed the deep fried chicken from back home.
The trembling ceased by the time she was done and she hoped he had fallen asleep. “G’night,” she whispered into his shoulder. Soon, Rogue was fast asleep as well.
…
Rogue was so comfortable she didnt want to wake up. There was something wrong though, she felt it. With great reluctance, she forced herself from her peaceful slumber to consciousness. When she opened her eyes, she knew why her body had been trying to warn her.
“Mornin’, chere.”
Gambit. He had been lying next to her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Wasn’t she the one trying to keep him warm last night?
“Morning,” she replied, sitting up. There was nothing to be embarrassed about, she told herself, but she blushed anyway.
Still lying on the ground, he looked up at her, an amused expression on his face. Both of his arms were tucked behind his head and his gaze lingered on her.
“Couldn't wait to get your hands on me, chere?”
Rogue blinked a few times. “What!?” She was trying to help him!
“Don't blame you,” he shrugged, “Femmes, they can't seem to help themselves.”
She rolled her eyes in annoyance. Seemed like the pain he was in last night was all gone. Actually, he didn't look like he'd been trapped in a cell either. He was all conceited charm and ease. Rogue groaned inwardly, she did not think him charming. She did not! Even if his hair looked good, even if he looked good.
She on the other hand... Her long, brown hair and the white streaks framing her face were a tangled mess. It didn't seem to matter though. The way he looked at her, like he was a starving man and she was his favorite kind of meal, made her nervous. No one had ever watched her so intently. Sure some of the boys at school eyed her when she first arrived, but it was nothing like his piercing gaze.
“What?” she asked again, that time feeling self-conscious.
“Nothin',” he smiled lazily.
The way his eyes twinkled…it was kinda hard to resist. But when she noticed the nasty bruise on the side of his face, her smile faded. All she wanted to do was reach out and try to make him feel better again.
“What else they do, Gambit?” Her voice was soft.
His casual demeanor was gone as he stood up.
“Nothin',” he spit out, “They didn’t get a chance,” is all he said and Rogue knew he tried to escape. It was probably why they beat him up and why he was hurting so bad the previous night. It made her angry, which she knew she had no right to be, but the anger was there nonetheless. His cards appeared in his hands as if by magic and the way he wouldn’t even look at her irritated her all the more. And it wasn't that she missed the way he had been looking at her either!
“What kind of name is Gambit anyway?” she asked, sounding annoyed.
There was a half-smile playing on his lips when he looked down at her over his shoulder. “What kind of name is Rogue?”
Before she could reply, the doors slid open. Eyes full of hate, Gambit charged for the guards, but he was tased before he could much.
Soon, Rogue was in the white room. The woman taking her vitals wasn’t wearing a hazmat suit. Neither was the man off to the side setting instruments down on a silver tray. But, that was not their biggest mistake. Apparently, playing docile had paid off because her right hand wasn’t nearly as secure as it looked. She could actually slip her hand in and out of the restraints. Knowing she wasn’t going to get a better opportunity, Rogue took a deep breath and waited for the right moment.
She promised that once she was out of there, she would make the X-men come back for him. Something told her Gambit wouldn't leave her alone for too long and neither would she.
…
“Anything, Professor?”
“I'm afraid not, Logan. Rogue has not used her powers. If she would have, Cerebro and I would have picked up on it.”
“Maybe she decided not to come back after taking the cure.” Logan glared at Storm.
"I will continue to search," Xavier assure him.
Logan nodded in reply before stalking out of the office.
…
Dr. Essex approached Rogue's bed.
“No, no sedative,” he said to the woman. He looked down at Rogue, then. “I want you to remember this. If you manage to survive the surgery,” he added with a disturbing turn of his lips.
She knew it was time.
Rogue slipped her hand out of the restraints. “Go to hell,” she yelled and reached for Essex. When she grabbed a hold of his hand, she did not let go.
…
The collar was back around her neck when she woke up. Her head was pounding, assaulting her with all the horrible images she took from Dr. Essex, no, he was Sinister now. When she finally managed to open her eyes, Gambit was sitting next to her holding her hand. She stared at that for a while, her hand in his. The fact that she was touching someone without fear of draining them dry wasn't what made her cry. The memory of his hands glowing, hurting, that did.
Rogue sat up and slipped her hand from his. The tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t seem to stop.
“Chere, what's wrong?” he asked, slowing placing his arm around her. "What they do to you?" his voice darkened and his hold on her tightened.
“Ah’m sorry, Remy,” she whispered, “Ah’m so sorry.”
“Sorry f’ what, chere?” he was going to ask, but at the sound of his name, he froze.
…
“You come highly recommended, Mr. LeBeau.”
“I’m de best,” Remy shrugged. He sat back in his chair, his fedora hiding his eyes, “But won’t be taking y’ money. Stealing things, no problem. Stealing people, not gonna happen, d’accord?”
“I can help you,” Sinister promised, “I can turn your powers into something you’ve only ever dreamed of.”
“M’ powers are jus' fine and I don’t need y’ help.”
.
One mutant. Then, two. Three. Too many to count.
Captured. Tied down. Tested on. So many surgeries, so much blood, so many dead.
Wrong mutant, wrong power, Sinister blamed his victims for his failing. But he wasn't about to stop. He would do it over and over again, until he got what he wanted.
.
“I offered to help you before,” Sinister sneered.
“Help me now!” Remy pleaded. His hands were glowing a bright fuchsia, brighter and brighter... He fell to his knees, unshed tears filled his eyes. He touched a table and it blew up in a matter of seconds. He touched a chair, then a counter. He hollered in pain until he collapsed from it.
“Take him,” Sinister ordered, “Room 70.”
Sinister watched, hardly able to contain his elation, as the collar snapped into place around LeBeau’s neck.
…
Gambit let go of Rogue, nearly shoved her away, and sat back.
She wiped her eyes and watched him, not understanding his reaction.
“How y’ know dat name, girl?” he asked, his accent growing thicker with each word.
Rogue looked away. She knew her powers would ruin…this. Just like they ruined everything else.
“Mah powers,” she explained, looking down at her hands, “Ah touched Sinister and took some of his memories.”
“Y' steal-take people’s memories?” She could feel him looking at the collar around her neck, probably grateful it was there.
Rogue shook her head, “That’s only part of it.” Her eyes were completely dry now. When she talked about her powers, she grew numb, became mechanical like a robot. It hurt less. She proceeded to explain as it had been explained a thousand times, it seemed. “When Ah make skin to skin contact with a person, Ah absorb their thoughts, their memories, their life force. When that person’s a mutant, Ah take their power, too. Ah can’t control it,” she added softly.
His jaw tightened and they sat in an uncomfortable silence.
“So…you touched Sinister and learned my name?” The distrust lacing his words was gone and he sounded like himself again, “Learn anything else?”
When she finally looked up at him, she could see him trying too hard to look relaxed. She had seen that expression countless times at the school. Folks trying to pretend they were okay with having her around, pretending they weren’t scared shitless.
“Not much,” she lied because he had that look in his eye now, the one she dreaded before. He was appalled, on edge, curious, all in one. It made her want to scream, it always did, but she swallowed it away as usual. “Some of what Ah see doesn’t make sense. Thoughts and memories are all jumbled together and Ah can’t get a clear picture.”
“Was hoping maybe you learned the way outta here,” he grinned, but it was too forced and Rogue only sighed.
“Ah can’t…Ah don’t chose the information Ah absorb.”
He didn’t say anything to that, but moved closer.
She held her hand up, “Don’t.”
He remained in place.
Despite the collar around her neck, she wanted her gloves, badly. She needed the sad comfort they brought. Since she didn’t have them, she crossed her arms, her hands hidden away close to her body.
“Listen, chere,” he tried again, “Didn’t mean-”
“It’s fine,” she shrugged, “It…doesn’t matter.”
“Matters to me,” he smiled a little.
She scoffed, “Didn’t matter a few minutes ago.”
“Sure it did,” he laughed, sounding relieved. “’S only I thought maybe Sinister turned you.”
Rogue made a face, “Turned meh into wh-oh. Well, no, Sinister didn’t turn meh.”
“Not that I’d blame you,” Gambit assured her, moving to sit next to her. She let him that time. “When you in a place like this, you do what you gotta to get out, non?”
Turning her gaze up to his, she saw it so clearly then. He had done just that.
”You’ve done well, Gambit.”
“Did my part, d’accord?”
“Yes, you’ve brought them all to me.”
“Now, 'm gone.”
Sinister smiled, “I’m afraid not, LeBeau. Someone like you should be working with me.”
“Won’t be doing that again!” Remy swore.
“That is too bad. Too bad, indeed. Get him!”
Remy fought Sinister’s men, but there were too many of them and eventually he was taken down.
“Room 70,” Sinister ordered.
Rogue turned to him. She had so many questions. “Gambit…?”
“Yeah?”
Thinking better of it, she shook her head, “Nothing.”
“What is it, chere?”
It wasn’t any of her business. She gave him a small smile, “Ah’m just tired.”
…
Rogue walked the dark halls, counting off the mutants behind the reinforced doors. Planning, plotting the best way to use each and every one. She had designs for them all, for every last one.
Suddenly, she was cutting into an unknown mutant with a scalpel. Then, another. Many died by her hand on the operating table. The ones that survived were brought back in a day or two. She was working on Remy next. He screamed. There was blood everywhere. She wanted to stop, but she kept doing things to him. Horrible, horrifying things. She shut her eyes and when she opened them again, she was back near Ellis Island.
Magneto had just finished using her powers against her. She was yelling, her hands hurt, her whole body hurt. Then, her hands began to glow and she was so scared. She wasn’t just going to kill everyone there, she was going to blow it all up. Her hands were glowing until everything was a bright fuchsia color. Both hands burned, ached. She was on fire, she couldn’t control it any longer and screamed one last time as it all ceased to exist.
“No!” she yelled, sitting up.
It took her a moment to realize she wasn’t dead. She hadn’t killed her friends and all those people or destroyed that small island.
Gambit sat up next to her. Rogue began trying to explain it, the nightmare she had. But she could hear the words leaving her mouth and she wasn’t making much sense. They were fragments of what she saw - experienced - pieces that couldn’t explain the whole picture.
“Shh, petite, ‘s ok. Everything’s ok now.” He hugged her close, but she pulled away. He didn’t let her. “The collar’s in place, Rogue. You won’t hurt me.” A few of her tears fell against his chest, staining the blue shirt a darker shade. “Just a bad dream ‘s all,” he whispered, running his hand along her back.
But it wasn’t okay. A lot of it happened. To her. To him.
Gently with a finger, he lifted her head up to his then wiped the tears from her face. She barely flinched at the contact. “We’ll get outta here, chere. We will.”
Her eyes locked into his and she believed him. Anything he said in that moment, she would have believed.
The hard floor and the rough, cold walls faded away in that moment and it was just the two of them. He was so close now, she wanted to get up and run away.
“Won’t hurt you none,” he promised.
“Remy…” she sighed, her hand was on his arm ready to stop him, but he was so warm under her fingertips. So soft and warm and again she found herself thanking the miserable collar around her neck.
His lips were barely a whisper against hers making her eyes flutter shut. The ground beneath them shook and Rogue pulled back, a small smile on her face.
“Whoa…”
When Remy pulled her in for another kiss, she didn’t resist.
He was hot everywhere she touched, his arms, his chest. His hair was so soft, she ran her fingers through it trying to memorize the texture, the feel of it, the feel of him.
His hands cradled her face while his lips slid against hers and she moaned as she leaned further into him.
The ground shook again. And then, loudly, the door was sliced open and they broke apart in time to see Wolverine step into their small cell.
“Logan!” she jumped up and hugged him.
“Time to go, kid,” he smiled, hugging her too, but his eyes were on the boy now standing.
“Who’s this?” Logan asked, eyebrows narrowed together.
Rogue looked over at Remy, smiling, “He’s coming with us.”
“You got a name, bub?”
An easy grin came over Remy's face. “'S Gambit.”
Logan didn’t like him already and had the strong urge to slice that grin off the boy's face.
“Logan, we gotta get outta here!”
Wolverine turned to her and nodded. “Place is full of guards,” he warned, “Keep yer eyes open.”
Rogue followed him out. When she looked behind her, Remy was heading the opposite way.
“Gambit!” she yelled after him, then ducked when something exploded above them.
“Can’t leave yet, chere.”
“We gotta go, sugah! We’ll get Sinister next time.”
Gambit shook his head, his face somber. “Can’t leave all these mutants behind.”
“Yes, you’ve brought them all to me.”
She remembered Sinister’s words and knew she wasn’t going to change his mind. “We better
hurry then.”
“Rogue!” Logan called after her, but she had already disappeared down the hall behind Gambit.
Logan cursed aloud, he really didn’t like that boy.
…
“Storm get us out of here!” Logan growled.
“Is everyone safely on board?” she asked, as she began the sequence that would have the X-Jet up in the air within seconds.
Logan scowled, “Everyone’s on board.”
Storm looked over at him, the worry evident in his eyes despite his attempt to hide it. “Where is Rogue?” she asked. Ororo did not agree with the girl's decision to take the cure, but she still cared about her one-time student. “Logan?”
He took the seat next to her in case she needed backup flying them out of there. “She’s here.” Storm let out a sigh of relief. “It’s some of the others,” Logan continued, “That kid - Gambit - he didn’t-”
“Logan!” Beast yelled and Logan ran to the doctor near the back of the plane.
Gambit was laying on the floor, Beast trying to stop the bleeding. Rogue was kneeling next to them, eyes wide, bare hands on her lap. When Logan took a knee at her side, she turned to him.
Immediately, Beast grabbed Logan’s hands and placed them over Gambit’s chest, “Here, put pressure. I need to retrieve the medical kit.”
Logan nodded.
“He…he took a bullet for meh, Logan…”
“I know, kid.” He’d seen the whole thing. Seen how Gambit looked possessed, frantically working to get every last mutant out. They found a guard in an operating room with the keys they needed to get rid of those collars around their necks. From then on, Rogue kept her distance from the boy, but he didn’t seem to notice and insisted she stay close.
Everything was going their way until they were almost out the door. Logan was a few feet behind carrying two kids who were too weak to walk on their own. Beast was behind him with another injured pair when a group of guards jumped out of nowhere to block their exit. Gambit unleashed a flurry of charged cards, taking most of them out. Only one guard was left standing, but one was all it took.
The X-Jet shook violently bringing Logan back to the present. Some of the kids screamed in fear, which seemed to startle Rogue out of her daze. She jumped up and ran towards one of the other students, returning with a pair of gloves. “Go help Storm! Ah got 'im.”
Logan's gaze traveled between Rogue and Gambit. Only a minute ago she looked completely miserable, but now she was intent on stopping the bleeding while the boy fought for his life.
“Beast, hurry!” Logan yelled as he maneuvered his way to the cockpit. Gambit had saved Rogue's life and whatever else happened, Logan would always be grateful to him for that.
…
“Gambit!” Wolverine growled and the entire school knew Remy was late to another Danger Room training session. Logan found Rogue in the kitchen, “Where's yer boyfriend?”
“He ain't mah boyfriend, Logan.” He wasn't. Boyfriends just made everything more complicated, which is why she'd ended things with Bobby as soon as she was able.
Logan raised an eyebrow obviously not believing her. “You see Gumbo before I do, tell 'im 'Ro ain't here today to save his sorry ass.”
“Ah ain't no messenger,” she replied, but he was already walking away muttering something about lazy, good-for-nothing cajuns.
Rogue was done drying the last of the dishes when she felt him standing behind her.
“Logan's looking for ya,” she said without turning around to face him.
He stepped closer. “Question is,” his breath caressing the side of her neck, “Why ain't you lookin' for me, chere?”
She let her eyes fall shut for a moment, enjoying the way her body tingled because he near. But, quickly, she snapped out of it. She knew better. He was a flirt, shamelessly flirting with all the girls, even some of the teachers- he was definitely a favorite of Storm's. Still, everyone, even Rogue, had to admit that whenever she entered a room he was in, he only had eyes for her.
She tried to tell herself it was simply because of what they'd been through, sharing that cell for nearly four days, but there was something else. Something more.
His hands were on her waist with a barely-there, feather-light touch. Half of the time she enjoyed his attentions, the other half, she was annoyed with him for not taking her powers seriously enough. Her skin was dangerous, poison, but he didn't seem to care. Since the moment he woke up in that med lab bed with her at his side, he never cared.
His eyes flew open and he tried to sit up, tugging at the cables monitoring his condition.
“Remy, stop, ya safe now!”
When his eyes fell on her face they flashed red and he smiled.
“Rogue,” he reached for her, but she stepped back.
“Mah powers,” she explained when she saw the hurt flash across his face.
He schooled his expression as he jumped off the bed. “Where are we?” he asked, taking in his surroundings.
Rogue told him everything that happened. He didn't seem too concerned with what he went through or how close he'd been to dying. They were both alive and outta that place, that was all that mattered, he said. Besides, his smile returned, he was more interested in what they had been in the middle of before her angry friend showed up.
“Remy, ya know we can't,” Rogue began, finally turning to look at him. His hands were still on her waist and he somehow moved closer without seeming to move.
Gambit only offered a cocky grin. It wasn't the first time she'd said those very same words to him. Probably not the last either.
“You too worried 'bout what we can't do, chere,” he leaned closer still, the dish towel falling from her hand as his hands moved up from her waist along her rib cage. “Let's focus on what we can do,” he grinned, infecting her for a moment with his optimism.
She chewed on her bottom lip. His hands, his words were making her feel hot. She knew he was good with words, from the beginning she knew. He was smooth unlike anyone else and when he started talking, her thoughts blurred and nothing else made sense.
His eyes flashed red and he was only a breath away, but she stopped him in time. “Boy, ya itchin' ta get hurt?”
Remy laughed, loving the way her accent came at him full force sometimes, but he stepped back to give her some space. “Still on f' dinner?”
“Not if ya can't keep those hands ta yaself,” she replied, but it was an empty threat. They were together more often than not. It was just the way things worked now, ever since Storm made him an offer to join the team. He said he'd consider it, but his mind had been made up long before, which surprised him.
“‘M not making any promises,” Remy winked. It wasn't like him to put so much effort into one other person no matter how belle, but he just couldn't help himself around her. “‘Til then, ma chere,” he bowed slightly and kissed the back of her gloved hand, leaving a smiling Rogue shaking her head in the kitchen.
Damn Cajun was up to something, she could tell. But honestly, she couldn't wait.