Rogue

"Why are you sayin- How can you be sayin' dis to me!" She was hurt, incredulous, and furious. She began pulling away, actively trying to get her arm out of his grip while not looking at the reflection of a stranger's body doing the same, except it was impossible not to see.

"Let go! Dis ain't real that isn't my face, where- why is-"

She rocked, abruptly, looking disoriented and pained. She leaned heavily on the counter and clutched at her head.

"Oh God. Where am I, I don't... how did I get here, I can't..."

The line of her shoulders and, slowly, her arms began to tense. Noticeably.

"Remember." She looked at the mirror, met the face there dead in the eye. The face of that awful little river rat mutant who been trailing along after her husband like he was... like they were...

"No. No." She slammed the flat of her palm against the mirror, hard enough by the sound of it that it should have cracked and shattered, fingers splayed out to fracture the image reflected there.

"Cette connasse- that little mutie bitch!" She rounded on him with a desperate, possibly immutable rage.

"How did this happen?! How could you let it?!"