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[un_gloved]

As a sort of concession to circumstance, Rogue hadn't spent much time alone, lately. She was always with someone, or at practice or in the rec room. She didn't even sleep in her room anymore, though most of her things were still there. It was the smarter way to play it, and she was mostly used to it after life at the mansion, but her greatest option for being alone was gone, and she was missing it more than ever.

Having passed over a truly spiteful number of books on aviation and a few issues of Superman, she'd slipped A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur's Court off the shelf and curled up in the corner of the sofa with it. She'd read it when she was first at Xavier's, something the Professor had suggested she'd like. She'd been skeptical. And wrong.

She only made it a few chapters. The jukebox was quiet, no one was watching a film reel. In fact, she was totally unaware of anyone else in the room. It probably should have been indicative of how out of it she was, but she'd missed that, too. She fell asleep, book on the cushion beside her, arms curled across her stomach and forehead tilted against the back of the couch. It was the deepest she'd slept in days.

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[thedevilhisdue]

Oof.

"B'lieve me, you got no idea," I mutter, and it ain't easy to keep up a show at a reminder like dat of what I spent so long running from.

Good thing I'm such a professional. Slipping an arm around her shoulder (and alright, maybe dere are a couple parts of dis dat aren't tous méchants, but not enough to really count for anything), I lead us on out of de rec room, not in any sort of rush. Now hopefully she doesn't realize she knows her way around here enough to know I'm steering her towards de bathrooms.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Well, that was better. She brought a hand up to rest at the small of his back, smiling slightly.

"Don' pout, Remy," she drawled as they went, turning her head a little so when she did, her voice was directly in his ear, "you always have a certain uncanny ability to make t'ings up to me..."

[thedevilhisdue]

I let out a slow breath at dat, since it's de reaction what gets me in de least trouble, long-term. Twirling a piece of her hair (white, in case dere was any doubt as to who I'm doing dis for) to distract her as much as me, it's a quick stroll down an empty hall to the end of de line. "Here's to hoping I break dat streak later as 'posed to sooner, den. Ladies first."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

The tactic failed because she was distracted by the door as it opened, or more accurately what was behind it. She frowned as she stepped inside, at the stalls, the tile- and then him.

"I know you be an exhibitionist, Remy, but at least you usually got some cla..."

She was staring past him at the mirrors behind the row of sinks. It was a startled, uncomprehending look that greeted her in return- wide green eyes, lips that were the wrong shape, a face that was the wrong shape. It was a pretty face, that she felt an immediate and fierce hatred for. The face flushed, as she felt herself flush.

"What," she ground out, jaw tight as she tried to reign in the confusion. The girl in the mirror's mouth moved when her own did. She back up slightly, shoulders smacking into the stall partition, before she stalked a few steps forward, shoving his shoulder out of the way in one terse movement.

"What de hell is dis?!"

[thedevilhisdue]

And here come de fireworks. Time to make it or break it.

"It's you," I say, snapping back to dead serious as I reach down to grab her arm. "It's you, Rogue. Think about it, 'bout where you are."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"No," she gasped sharply, jerking away from the mirror, from him, though she didn't manage to dislodge his grip.

"Why you callin' me dat it's not- No," she repeated again, significantly louder, voice edging toward ragged, almost shrill.

"This can't be- this can't be! What is this?" She turned back on him, eyes alight with rage.

"What did you do?"

[thedevilhisdue]

Well, dis could certainly be going worse. Somehow. Probably.

"Woke you up, remember?" I say, standing a little more defensively out of necessity, but not letting go of her. If I keep calm, hopefully some of it'll rub off on her 'fore dis start to hurt, but it's tough to tread lightly 'round something so insane. "You ain't Bella Donna, you never were. Calm down and think for a second, where've we been dese last few years? You know who you are, Rogue."

Good to know de Sabretooth t'ing really wasn't as bad as it could get.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"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?!"

[thedevilhisdue]

Right. Dey're acquainted. Dey'd have to be for dis to be happening at all, naturellement, but it's still something I've never been all dat eager to wrap my brain around, for obvious reasons.

"It's not like dat," I say firmly as I put my hands up, de sound of her palm smacking glass keeping me focused. Panicking's not gonna do any of us good, and I am not about to start defending Rogue to herself. "You're just confused. You just need to calm down and we'll get some help, okay, chère?" It probably don't make much of a difference, but it also don't help dat I really don't know how I let it happen.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Do I look confused?" she snarled. The answer was no, she looked homicidal, but it didn't change the fact that the real answer was yes.

"Where are we!"

[thedevilhisdue]

Confused is more an all-encompassing state of being right 'bout now, not just a look, but hopefully her asking questions is a good t'ing. I just wish I had some answers she'd like.

"We're in a building," I answer slowly, "on an island in de middle of nowhere. You've been here for years."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Her color, most noticeably that which had been prominent in her cheekbones, drained.

"Years?" she gasped, practically staggering, catching herself against the counter and looking back to the strange reflection. She stumbled back from it, one hand flying to her forehead as the other reached blindly for the wall to steady herself.

[thedevilhisdue]

"Easy," I say, trying to make it sound like more den just a suggestion, and maybe I'm risking getting hit, but I can't help but reach out to help her. "I know it's a lot to take in, but if you just let yourself remember, you'll see..."

She'll see what? What comes after dat? Hell if I know, but it's got to be better den dis.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

She didn't lash out or retaliate at the gesture. If anything, she seemed to get smaller and more defensive, curling inward as she sank down to the tile floor, back against the wall.

"Non, non, non, no, no," she whispered, carefully covering her face with her hands so they acted like blinders, her gaze on the floor.

Years, what was years ago? Where was she years ago? She couldn't visualize one place. She saw different rooms, different houses, but she couldn't have lived in all of them. Some were clearer than others, some more familiar. Some seemed to force themselves vividly to the fore of her mind but were alien to her, she couldn't place them. More troublesome was, she couldn't place herself in any of them, she couldn't see herself. She pressed her fingertips harder against her scalp.

If she looked in that mirror again, she didn't know who would be there. There was something Gatekeeper had taught her about visualizing oneself whole in the landscape of the universe, it was supposed to be both humbling, grounding, and reassuring to one's sense of self, and just thinking about it in that moment made her think, just for a second, that she'd gone blind.

She didn't know that she was panting and trying to push herself so far into the wall that she'd fall through it not your power not your life, or who it was who was speaking to her. In a sudden swell of deep and irrational fear, it occurred to her that the last time her head had been this crowded and her vision this dark was Genosha. Her bare feet slipped a little against the tile as she tried to find purchase to wedge herself farther back into the corner.

She wasn't there couldn't be there but she didn't know where she was. So she might have been. But only mutants went to Genosha, and she wasn't one of those. But she had to be, she'd been on the team for years, now, years, and the right side, the good team. The good guys.

She was one of the good ones. Wasn't she?

She couldn't say. She didn't make much noise, in fact. Out loud, she merely whimpered.

[thedevilhisdue]

In a lot of ways, I'd rather she lash out. Have her yell and rail, hit t'ings, fight dis like I've grown to expect her to, de way she fights 'gainst anything what gets in her way. Maybe it wouldn't help much in a case like dis, but at least it'd feel safer, more familiar. And dat's coming from someone who hates playing it safe.

Dropping into a low crouch in front of her, I reach out, hands cradling her face, getting her eyes up off de floor. "Rogue, regarde-moi. Look at me!" Keep her aware, keep her engaged. If she's gonna be freaking out, breaking down, I'd rather it be out here den somewhere in dat messed-up head of hers. "Forget de rest of it, ignore it, it's just you an' me right now, hein?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Help, she thought, nodon'ttouchme and Please but her gaze was pulled to Gambit's and she met his eyes, and her own cleared. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't for a moment. She swallowed and tried again.

"Remy?"

[thedevilhisdue]

"Oui, dere you go," I say, nodding and raising my eyebrows but not breaking eye contact for a second. At least I know it's her I'm talking to, now. "Focus on what you know, chère, an' you know me. Better den anyone."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Remy," she said again, as if to confirm it for herself. Her gaze wavered and she blinked, hard twice.

"It's so loud-Remy, what's happened- what's happenin'?" She fought to hold his gaze. She was losing it. Something had slipped. No, worse. Something had broken. And just because she was cognizant of the fact didn't mean she could do anything about it, not anymore. She gripped his wrists, then his shoulders, breaths coming shorter and sharper.

[thedevilhisdue]

"Nothin' you and me can't handle," I say, looking around us when her eyes lose focus like dere's gonna be some kind of box hanging on de wall, 'In case of mutant psychosis, break glass'. Surprise, surprise: no such luck. "I know it's loud, but you can fight it," I go on, attention squarely on Rogue again. "So long as you can still hear me, you be alright. Got dat?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Rogue nodded, blinking rapidly, struggling to maintain eye contact. Not that being so near to him wasn't compelling, it was just that her head felt full, fuzzy like she was dreaming but she knew she wasn't.

"Ah- uh huh," she said. She tried to get control of her breath, and failed. Her fingers curled in his shirt.

"Ah don't know where we are. Ah can't- Our powers don't work here," she said, because that was true. She knew that was true. Right?

"Why don't mah powers work?"

[thedevilhisdue]

"Dey just don't, de whys don't much matter, do they? And dis is where you live. You're safe here." Maybe dat's a stretch, but it's something, and I wrap my hand around hers, as if she needs proof dat nothing's happening beyond de crowd already knocking 'round her head. "No powers, no worries. Maybe you couldn't control them before, but dis ain't real, it's just memories, something you can handle."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

The touch was a little jarring. Things in the back of her mind moved around, jostled for the surface. They were caught in the general crush, though, and nothing concrete came. Just a feeling.

She swallowed and pressed forward, chin against his shoulder.

"Ah don't feel safe," she said, voice trembling as badly as her body, but her tone was frustrated and struggling toward determined. She wasn't just going to fold up. Something was happening, and if she could just think straight...

"Who else is here. 're there- is anyone else- Ah can hear other voices, but not what they're sayin'."

[thedevilhisdue]

"Just you, me, an' de mice now, Rogue," I say, and it's all too easy to slip my arms around her, hold her close. She's all over de map enough as is, though, I ain't about to lose focus, too. "De rest of it is just background noise, it don't much matter what dey're going on about. You can push past it, I know you can."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

She closed her eyes for a moment, burying herself in the embrace, pressing her face against his chest. The smaller she could physically make herself, she felt, the better. She wasn't sure why, it just seemed like a good idea.

"Ah think Ah'm dreamin' this," she told him quietly.

[thedevilhisdue]

For a second, I'm almost t'ankful dat de situation's so rotten, just so's I don't go doing something stupid like enjoy dis, de way she feels. At least she's calming down some.

"Would it make it easier if you were?"