(no subject)

[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.

Comments

[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?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Maybe," she said quietly, voice small but tight. Her breath was coming unevenly, because it wanted to be fast and harsh and she was fighting to keep it slow and steady. She was losing.

"If I was, then I know it'd be over eventually. Even if it felt like forever. 'n I'd only be a little sad 'bout wakin' up." She absently re-gripped his shirt where she was holding it. Really, she thought, she had to be dreaming, because the alternative was too freakin' weird.

She seized up suddenly, tensing all over.

"Where is this?" she said again, like she couldn't remember what the answer had been the first time, or that she didn't believe it. Her mind was circling around in an awful kind of loop, and she was back to a place she didn't want to be, only the feeling of it was stronger somehow.

"This isn't Genosha." She didn't sound sure. She sounded scared, though.

[thedevilhisdue]

"'Nother island, 'nother time," I say, dredging up all dose reserves of patience people never seem to believe I got in me. For a second in dere (just one, now), I almost don't want her to wake up, either. "Hard to say if it's better or worse, I can't really compare de two, but... Rogue, you're okay. You're hearing me on dat, right?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Rogue shook her head, slowly, and equally slowly pushed herself away from him.

"No," she said, looking nothing short of hunted.

"No, somethin' ain't right. Somethin' here is- somethin' is here that is wrong." She reached a hand out to grip the side of a stall and pull herself up to standing. Her head snapped up and her gaze fixed on the door to the hallway. There was the faint, echoing sound of voices. She understood the echo was from someplace dark, but she didn't know they had originated in a sewer, years ago.

"D'you hear-" She swallowed, knuckles going white. A tug of war was going on between fight and flight, plain as day, on her face.

"Oh, God, it's Creed. It's the Marauders."

[thedevilhisdue]

I suck in a surprised breath at dat, and all of a sudden, she ain't de only one wit' a part of herself telling her to run. It's tough to remember dat I'm de one who should be trying to keep control right now in de face of what's knocking at her subconscious, but it's not like I didn't already know she had some version of Sabretooth rearranging furniture in dere already.

"Non," I say, harsher den I mean to, pushing smoothly up to my feet and keeping close, putting myself right in her line of vision. Of all de memories to threaten to come up, dis is one I can't let her grab hold of. "No one's here, it's all in your head. Trust me, Rogue."

Even though you got no real cause to.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"Trust you?" she repeated, looking back at him. Her expression started to slip, somewhere between distressed and accusatory.

"You brought us here." Her gaze darted between his eyes before narrowing and she pushed at his shoulders, a short jab. "Got us in through the door and took us where we need to be. All you had to do was walk away, LeBeau. Was that so hard?" The words weren't hers, but possibly the inflection was. The volume definitely was.

"To just walk?"

[thedevilhisdue]

Didn't t'ink I'd be in any position to want Bella back, but dere we have it. Seeing as I doubt a little peek in de mirror'd do it dis time, I don't have a clue 'bout how to snap her out of it beyond getting physical, and knowing Creed, even dat likely wouldn't do much.

"You don't belong here," I say, a little less sure of myself but standing my ground. It's all getting mixed up, muddled, and if I don't know where Rogue ends and Sabes starts, I can't even imagine what it must be like for her in dere.

How is it dat, even now, she's still de one I'm most worried 'bout?

"I don't walk away from where I'm needed."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

"I don't," she said, apparently not disagreeing, backing away from him.

"This isn't right." The panic started to etch into the set of her shoulders and the rise and fall of her chest as her breaths shortened, but while her voice stayed hers, her stance and posture were all Gambit's.

"What is this about? What did we come here for?" She gritted her teeth together, visibly trying to shake something off.

"Ah won't let you. Ah won't." And with that she dove past him for the door.

[thedevilhisdue]

If she hasn't figured it out, I'm certainly not about to tell her, and in a sick way, I'm almost glad when she runs. Means I don't have time to dwell on what a perfect echo her question is, don't have time to remember puttin' de pieces together dat little bit too late.

"Rogue, stop!" I call, just short of yelling, and dere's no more pretenses as I turn on my heel and bolt after her, reaching out to grab her before it's too late. Hard as this all is, de last t'ing I'm about to do is let her loose on de island like this.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

She jerked away like the touch burned her, colliding with the door without opening it.

"Don't touch me! Please- Don't touch me!"

The oldest litany in her book, it felt like. It had taken the focus, though. She wasn't afraid of what was on the other side of the door and she wasn't afraid of someone else's ghosts. The oldest fear she had was right there, his fingers on the bare skin of her arm. Even with nothing happening, the panic swept everything else away.

[thedevilhisdue]

It's not a good reaction by any stretch of de imagination, but it's something. Means at least de only demons coming after her are her own, and while I let go of her, I don't back away none. Maybe it's cruel, but if I force de issue, it'll hopefully keep her from jumping back to other ones. More dangerous ones. "It's okay, it's all okay," I say, as soothing as I can manage when I'm this jacked up, more on edge den I think dis place has ever made me. "Écoute-moi, it's fine. We're bot' fine, see? Nothin' to fear!"

[leftwithmybones]

McCoy usually leaves people's business to themselves, but he hears Rogue's voice and that conversation just doesn't sound anywhere near happy, which is why he leaves from what he's doing and heads to the noise, just to check out what's going on, he tells himself. "Hey," he says, the word heavy and designed to get people's attention. "What the hell's going on here?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

The door was opening, and now there was another man, who she knew she knew but she couldn't come up with a name. Gambit was blocking the rest of the bathroom and- Not Hank.- was blocking the route to the hallway so she backed herself into a corner where the wall met the sinks.

"No," she told them both, not responding directly to either, trying to be firm but voice shaking madly, "don't touch me."