XMenFilesFANFICTION: My X-Men Fanfiction

[xmenfilesfan05]

I've started my own website to feature and regularly update my fanfiction: http://www.geocities.com/xmenfilesfan05/index.html

I've had my fanfiction hosted at fanfiction.net, here is the link to my pen name and the list of fiction I've done: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/730536/

But I'd really like to hear your comments on my fiction. It's not everyday I could hear from the hardcore fans of what I write about. I'd love to hear your comments and critiques. My fiction is housed within the movieverse of X-Men although I'd like to believe that X3 never happened in my world. So I hope you enjoy my first submission, a short story, based off of a song, entitled God Help the Outcasts.


God Help the Outcasts


The fleshy colored dust cloud settled past the still warm motorcycle that lay on its side. A single lined tire track turned into a two tired skid mark as it violently twisted into the gravel “parking lot” of a little white church. This little white church stood alone, its steeple the only obstruction along the glowing horizon. Its faded stained glass windows, outlined by bright red frames, set into chipped, white siding. The dark, mahogany, doors came back to a close as a stranger entered the church.

The hooded stranger kept a gloved hand upon the closing door, gently guiding it back to its original resting place, as if not to disturb the permanent silence that has made its life in the building. They stood there for a minute before making any move. They had entered upon a lonely place, not visited by anyone, not a worshiper, lost soul, or even a runaway, for a long time. One room, adorned with simple carvings up in the corners near the ceiling. The angels’ wooden faces overrun by the small clippings that made a sparrow’s home. The stranger stood back near the dark entrance, and then slowly stepped forward into a small beam of light, entering through a small hole in the wall. The beam danced upon the figure of a woman, in a long, dark green cloak. She lifted her hooded head, revealing a pale, square face. Dripping out of the hood were long strands of white hair. The woman opened her eyes gracing the church with her dark stare and at the same time pulled the hood down. A river of dark brown hair accompanied the white strand and the woman ran her hands through her hair.

She stepped towards the front of the church. Her foot landed down on a thick layer of dust, aside from the little mouse, bird, and other animal tracks, it appeared undisturbed. The board creaked under her weight and she stepped forward. The clack of her heals were muffled, but still echoed up to the rafters. She walked on, past an old bookcase and into the aisle between the two rows of benches. Each row had three pews, which faced the altar, adorned by a simple wooden cross. She walked towards the altar and into the ray of light running through the painted windows. Amber light filled the room, and fell across her face. She turned towards the glass, closed her eyes, and felt the warmth of the light upon her skin. As little glowing orbs floated in the light, she continued towards the altar, her cloak dragging along the floor, trailing dust with her. The stranger reached the altar and ran a gloved hand along it, pulling dust away.

She pushed up her sleeves and slid her elbow length gloves off her hands. Then once again, the woman ran her hand across the revealed, dark wood. She flipped her hand over, running the back of it along the cooled wood. The woman hung her gloves over the railing and kneeled down. She set her elbows on the wood, and started rubbing her hands. She stopped, bowed her head, and then brought her hands together.

The woman breathed in through her nose, and tried to bring her lips apart. They stuck together, but slowly parted with a gasp. The woman ran the tip of her tongue along the brims of her dark red lips and took a deep breath in. Bathed in amber light, she looked up to mother Mary, carved into the wall. Tears stood in the corner of her dark eyes, ready to run. Mary kneeled over a small child in a manger, her hands up in jubilant praise. From her vacant eyes, a small drop of condensation ran down the grainy face of Mary. The woman gasped and smiled as a single tear escaped her own eye’s clutch. She took another deep breath in, closed her eyes and thought out loud.

“A’h don’t know if you can hear me, or if you’re even there.”

A sob escaped her.

“A’h don’t know if you would listen to a humble prayer.”

She took another deep breath in.

“A’h know Ah’m just an outcast, A’h shouldn’t speak to you.”

Another tear ran down the woman’s pale cheek, and she sobbed. She raised her head up and looked at the carving of baby Jesus in the manger. She smiled and her southern voice sighed.

“Still A’h see your face and wonder.”

Pause. Almost afraid to say what she said next.

“Were you once an outcast too?”

The images came flooding back to the woman. She saw herself several years ago, before she was an outcast. She was lying on her bed, in her room, in the house where she lived with her parents. The boy was lying next to her. He had this look in his eyes. She had known what was coming next and she couldn’t wait. Her heart was racing; her mind was focused on that one thing. She could hardly breathe. His lips touched hers and somewhere deep down, something happened. A bright flash, and this girl with dark brown hair was pushed out the screen door of her house, her father screaming at her. Her mother came out and threw a bag at her feet. Her father ripped her mother’s golden crucifix from the girl’s neck while she sobbed hysterically. A bright flash. The same girl sat in a bar while two men attacked an outcast. The violence and hate had filled the air. She was so frightened. She had nowhere else to go but with the outcast. A bright flash, and this girl was dying up on top of a symbol of hope. The pain was so intense, and all faith and hope escaped her. Then the girl awoke, with the outcast kneeling next to her, dying. A flash of light. The girl, now a young woman, watched the outcast who saved her, get shot before her eyes. Then evil burned the scene and the woman had to stop it. A flash of light. The young woman, piloting a plane with all the strength in her. She crashed it, and another outcast stayed behind. Something was in the plane, while the other woman saved them all from the cold hand of the water.

A thump and flutter stole the thoughts away from the woman. She looked behind her, and heard the fluttering of birds wings. Somewhere up in the rafters a bird chirped.

She bowed her head once again.

“Why?” “Is there a point?” she stammered.

“Please help the outcasts, frightened from birth, show them the mercy they don’t find on earth.”

“Please help my people, we look to you still, God help the outcasts when nobody will.”

“A’h need to know, why are we this way?” She tightened her hands together. “If you truly loved us, you wouldn’t have made us this way, you wouldn’t have left us here, alone.”

Her voice became more intense and accusing.

“Why are we hated like this, A’h thought we all were the children of God.”

She began to sob, her quick, sharp breaths bounced throughout the church.

Through a strangled sob, she stammered, “You really have left us alone, especially me, why have you left us alone?”

She had screamed her last sentence. The air in the church had become thick with intensity, and not even the wind blew outside, leaving the woman in complete silence, while it too waited for an answer. A sudden rush of air, and a loud crash caused the woman to jump up and cry out loud. The sound seemed to hang in the air, ringing off the glass.

The woman looked towards a cloud of dust that climbed up towards the ceiling. Her heart was pounding and her breath remained hard. She got up from the altar, leaving her gloves, and walked towards the disturbance. When she reached the area, she saw that the bookshelf had fallen over and that a bible had fallen from it as well. As the dust curled out from the open bible, the woman picked it up. Her eyes focused on the golden edged pages. It was opened to the book of Matthew, on chapter 28. As she skimmed the page, verse 20, seemed to glow to her. She whispered it on her lips.

“I’ll be with you as you do this, day after day after day, right up to the end of the age.”

The tears that poured from her eyes were accompanied by the sound of rain hitting the roof. She trembled, and kneeled on the dusty ground. She took the bible and closed it. She ran a bare finger along the golden title of the book. In the bottom right corner of the black cover were the initials “J. Howlett”. A silenced fluttering came from under the bookshelf. Then the fluttering turned to thumping as the woman looked at the bookcase puzzled. She stood up and grunted as she lifted the bookcase up, back onto its base. There on the dusty floor lay a nest and next to it a pure white dove. Its wings askew, the dove just laid there as she approached it. She bent over and gently clasped it in her bare hands. She held it up to her face and opened her mouth wide at the softness of its feathers. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt something so soft. She brought it up to her cheek and the bird nuzzled its beak back and forth across it. She giggled. She held the dove in one hand and bent down to pick up the nest. She pulled it up and saw two eggs, broken. She let out a silent choke. She brought the bird back to her face and the tears continued to fall down her face. She turned towards the door and quickly exited the church.

The heavy door creaked as it opened, and the woman stepped out into the rain. She held the bird protectively as she walked toward a field next to the church. The rain continued to fall, and the woman stood there holding the snow white dove. Then she looked up and raised her hands towards the clouds. The dove perched there and then left her hands. She continued to watch the dove fly away as the rain washed away her tears and her doubt. She returned to her motorcycle and swung her leg over the side.

Then she heard, so quietly, “You’re not alone.” Followed by a flap of wings.

The woman looked up smiling as a large feather fell to the ground.

She stared at the feather and said, “I think we’ll be okay, since we have angels watching us.”

With that last word, she kicked her bike and peeled off, so sure now that the outcasts aren’t alone.

 

[bored]

Cool. Is this the whole fic, or just an introduction?

 

[xmenfilesfan05]

This is just one short story.

 

[xmenfilesfan05]

Here is the first chapter of a three part story entitled: A True Rogue. I hope you all enjoy.

A True Rogue

She had remembered the first time she heard the word. Rogue…it had seemed like such a simple word, yet she had not known the meaning or the pronunciation. It was the eighth grade, she was fourteen, at least she thought she was. Her ninth school, English class, Mrs. Sandreson was the teacher.

Mrs. Sandreson, man was she something. One of those women, who had turned forty-five, the wrinkles had started at least ten years before, yet she seemed to deny it and even attempt to hide it. Bleached blond hair (almost white), with the tacky press on nails, tan that made the leather look even worse, and deep red lipstick that added nothing to the tight, thin lips that spewed the most nasal, hoarse voice one has ever heard. To sum up, Mrs. Sandreson was a ho-bag. And she had done nothing to hide how she felt about her in class. The southern wit almost always got the best of the teacher, and she had ended up out in the hall at least four times a week.

The day had been especially sunny, the only reason why she remembered the weather because she had reminded herself to work on the great tan she had. Tan, something she hadn’t been since the mutant thing started. Fourth period, English, they had been reading a lot of passages lately, only because some state literacy test was coming up, and the school was making one sad, last minute attempt to show the test board members that they cared about the students. She sat down, third desk from the back, the row closest to the door.

Cassie, short with blond hair, kind of like Mrs. Sandreson, leaned over and whispered, “Where’s ol’ Leather Face?” imitating starting a chainsaw.

She had laughed, even though she had no idea what she was talking about. She knew it was from some movie, but she hadn’t been a movie person. And from the door emerged ol’ Leather Face herself. She strutted along the blackboard over to her desk and picked up another pile of readings. She stood in front of her row, opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and drew her rough, deep maroon tipped finger across the skinny sandpaper tongue.

“Pass them back!” the cold, bitter voice dripped.

Standard procedure for all of her peers, they mindlessly passed the stapled papers back, stared at the title as if trying to care what it was about. The papers reached her, and sure enough the one reading on top had been contaminated with the witch’s saliva filled fingerprint.

“No thank you,” She quickly spat, throwing her hand with the remaining papers behind her back to the kid behind her.

“Now, who would like to read, hmm?”

It’s funny, why do teachers always ask that question, the answer is the same.

“Fine, I’ll choose,” running her finger down her attendance list, and sure enough, “Marie.”

“Okay, you want me to read the title? Yes? Okay, ELEPHANTS HAVE FEELINGS T- “

“Wait, Marie come to the front of the class.”

Of course.

Flawlessly, she got through five paragraphs, standing up, and then that one sentence came.

“And those male elephants that have strayed from the herd, also known as rogues-.”

Only that was how it should have sounded.

That last word, damn it was a toughie.

It came out as “rog-eww-ee”

And then she did it.

Mrs. Sandreson giggled. Then that giggle turned into a snort and soon after a full-blown laugh. The class had remained silent until she laughed out loud. Then came the wave of breath that brought the piercing laughter. Oh God, everyone was laughing, pointing. She even heard a “dumb ass” come from the crowd. She could feel it, the burning color change that came along with embarrassment. How could she, everybody, laugh at her.

“Thank you Marie, you might want to study a little more for the test, anyway lets pick someone that can actually read!” wiping a tear from the mascara lined eye.

She didn’t know what came over her when the teacher, who had been standing in the back of the room, walked past her back to her desk. Marie grimaced and then placed her hands right square in the middle of her back and pushed. Not a small push, but a push that had every ounce of energy put into it. Mrs. Sandreson’s head snapped back and she fell to the ground. This rush of silent gasps filled the room. Everyone just stared. And Marie ran out of the room.

She didn’t want to ride the bus home; instead she skipped seventh and eight periods to begin walking home. She then realized that she was alone. There was no one after that slip-up to comfort her with a remark about how the teacher was just being a jerk. She walked home, not actually home. And now, she would be heading to her tenth school.

But she looked up the word, found out how to pronounce it so that same mistake wouldn’t be made at her next school.

rogue (rōg) n. 1. An unprincipled person; a scoundrel or rascal. 2. A vicious and solitary animal.

And now, Rogue felt like the second definition of her own name. This cage around her. How did she get herself into this? Everyone back at the institute would expect Jubilee to mess up like this, in fact that is why she was here. Now she was standing in a chain-linked, on all sides even on top, eight by sixteen-foot, cage listening to Jubilee ***** in the cage next to her.

Luckily it was outside for an easier escape; unlucky were the people that had them there. It was actually a simple mission, Jubilee’s first. Man, she must be disappointed right now. And now Rogue was stuck there too. It started as a rescue mission, then Jubilee was caught, and then it was a rescue mission for two people, and now Rogue as well. Well Rogue certainly knew she wasn’t gonna wait to get rescued.

And now was her chance as the single guard left for the cage shift started walking his route.

 

[xmenfilesfan05]

Chapter 2 of A True Rogue:

Rogue couldn’t believe the situation she was in right now. She had to take it all in. Okay, one guard on a set route, around the containment cages. Another guard, 100 possibly 120 feet away. He was patrolling the main compound. Those were the only two she had to worry about. There were cameras yet all were pointed in other, obviously more important directions. Both guards were armed, and she was stuck in this cage, chain-linked fencing on all sides.

How could she have let herself get caught. Rogue had gone on at least seven other solo missions before. Infiltration was her specialty, considering she had no powers that could cause a huge commotion. This was Jubilee’s first solo mission, and she had gotten caught, but this wasn’t new to Rogue. She had slipped through the electrified perimeter fencing. That was tough. She had quietly made it around the outside of the main building and was facing the fence that was 300 feet away. All she had to do was the cross that open, 300 feet and get them both out of there. That plan didn’t work so well, when a pair of heavy sedation darts punctured her skin at the back of her neck.

You could tell by the bruises that Jubilee was caught the old fashioned way, as well as the younger boy. The boy. Jubilee was sent in to rescue him after the Professor noticed a change in his mutant behavior. The Professor had been following this boy for a long time, considering that his mutation could be extremely helpful.

Through the bars, Rogue stared at him. He was 12 years old; his parents were killed in a fire at their home in Illinois. He had told the police that some men pulled him out, and he saw others standing outside his parents doors, as the fire came down the hall. No one had believed him, while everyone at the institute knew that murder was the issue. His name was Doug Ramsey. Rogue had known all this at the briefing before Jubilee left.

Wanting to keep his attention away from the situation Rogue spoke.

“What's your name?”

“Doug…what’s yours?”

“Rogue.”

Jubilee’s eyes darted up to Rogue’s. She didn’t know Rogue’s real name, ‘Rogue’ was what she knew the girl as. Rogue’s eyes met hers, and she could see that it hurt her to tell him her name. Rogue, that name says so much, yet so little. Jubilee could remember the first time she saw her, in history class at the institute. They had roomed with each other for the next three years before they went into field training. And in those three years, she had grown close, yet Rogue had always kept up a barrier.

They were practically best friends but not the same “best friends” as Jubilee’s previous friends. Rogue had always had this barrier that Jubilee, and everyone else, never wanted to touch. And that wasn’t her skin. It was as if, everyone knew that bad things happened to Rogue, and they didn’t ever want to bring it up. Jubilee looked into Rogue’s eyes and just wondered why she didn’t want people to know her real name.

“Rogue—what?” Doug sassed with a crinkled nose.

“Nah, Ah’m just Rogue.”

“What kinda name is Rogue?” again with the crinkled nose, and arms crossed.

With a chuckle, “ya know what?”

“What?”

“You’re not the first person to ask me that.”

“Oh,” Doug’s eyes trailing off towards the chain-linked fence.

His eyes quickly shot back towards Rogue.

He slowly, cautiously raised a pointed finger in Rogue’s direction.

“What’s with your hair?”

Jubilee was surprised by Rogue’s reaction to this question. She had always known Rogue as a strong confident person. Well, after a year of getting to know her. Rogue wasn’t at all confident when they first met and she had always seemed afraid. But Rogue had this charm that got everyone excited. And that emerged after a year of being at the institute. But now, Rogue’s shaky hand pinched the end of a chunk of white hair, and quickly drew it back behind her ear.

She shifted her weight onto her other foot and looked up at Jubilee through the repeating, diamond pattern.

“We’ve got to go.”

Rogue took the band out of her hair. Most of her hair had fallen out of her ponytail when she was thrown into the cage. She slid her hand back along the top of her head and grabbed a clump of hair. From there she slid all of the loose chunks back into the clump and tied it back.

Jubilee knew that Rogue was getting serious, Rogue had never tied all of her hair back unless she was going to get physical. It was in the Danger Room and on the missions, that the white streak got tied back with all of the other hair. Rogue looked focused, mostly on her feet. That meant that she was planning the strategy.

“Jubilee, I want you to flash the guard as soon as he is in front of my gate.”

“ROGUE!”

“Aw shi-!” Doug screamed, smiling with a hand clasped over his mouth.

“Rogue, I am not going to flash the guard!” Jubilee declared, smacking Doug on the side of the head while he was laughing.

“No dip, your powers!”

“Oh, okay,” a long sigh escaped from Jubilee’s mouth.

From behind their cages, the scheduled guard came marching. His route was to circle the utility sheds behind the containment cages, and then march around the cages three times, and then back to the utilities. Rogue turned towards him with her hands behind her back.

Jubilee saw, as Rogue quickly slipped one glove off her hand. The guard then finally met up with the fence and followed the length of it. The door was on the next side. Rogue began to follow the guard along the inside, drawing a gloved hand slowly behind her. She was smiling at the guard while she walked.

Jubilee thought this almost looked like some animal taunting its prey. It kind of freaked her out. He was almost at the corner. Ten feet…..five feet….two feet. The guard turned the corner.

This took a split second, but it had taken Jubilee almost a year and a half to perfect. With her bare hand, Jubilee summoned a tiny globule of energy. She could feel it start at the base of her hand, right where the palm meets the wrist. It was a pressure, then it ran up to the center of her palm. When the pressure ran up to the fingers it felt like each cell was being pricked by a pin. Like her hand was asleep. What was really happening was the energy stores in each cell, were releasing it to the surface in psionically harnessed balls of energy, that merged with others to become visible. From there she could propel it towards something, in this situation towards the guard.

The globe that Jubilee created was barely the size of a housefly. She turned her hand, fingers pointed so her hand was cupped, towards the guard. It flew and stopped right in front of the guard’s nose. Jubilee took off her psionic harness of the energy and a small pop and whirl sounded. A large strobe of blue light emerged.

The guard grunted and stopped, then he let out a cry. He stumbled a step back and Rogue acted.

She crouched and then launched herself up. Her hands grasped the ceiling of chains, and brought her foot up. Her foot kicked the electronic lock box, and a trail of metal cover, wires, and sparks flew up with her foot. She quickly jumped down, kicked the door open. The guard was standing close enough that he was hit by the swinging door. Rogue jumped up to the bar-frame of the doorway, grabbed with both hands and swung, like a gymnast on the uneven bars, towards the guard.

The guard had been hit by something unknown, but when he heard a crunch of metal he knew one of the prisoners had just kicked the lock box. He had been rubbing his eyes, and he blinked the tears clear, just in time to see the soles of the skunk haired woman right in front of his eyes.

Rogue hit the guard square in the face with both feet. He toppled immediately, and Rogue landed in an animal-like crouch. In a second, she had the guards pant leg up and her bare hand was grasped around his ankle.

She looked up and saw the other patrolling guard running towards the complex.

“****!”

She shuffled through the guard’s pockets and found the key.

Rogue sprang up, large portions of white and brown hair swinging in her face. She walked over to the door that contained Jubilee and Doug. Her attention was down at the key box and she blew strands of hair out of her face.

“In about a minute there’ll be twenty guards catching us!”

“Well what are you going to do about it?”

Rogue started walking towards the perimeter fence, the quickest way out.

“Come on!” Jubilee grabbed Doug’s arm and they both ran after Rogue

She meekly said, “Rogue….ROGUE?”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Rogue abruptly stopped. She turned towards the two. There was this odd look in her eyes. Almost maniacal. Rogue bit her lower lip. Jubilee settled back on one leg, sticking her hip out. She wiped back a chunk of greasy hair off of her sweaty forehead. She exhaled hard.

“Well…?”

“Well…Professor called me a weapon didn’t he?”

“What does that have anything to do with it?”

“Well a weapon doesn’t work without ammunition!”

She began walking again.

“What are you talking about?” Jubilee continued, as she followed Rogue.

“This.”

Rogue unzipped her combat jacket and skintight protective shirt revealing a strap of vials right underneath her breasts.

“What are those…Rogue…what are those?”

“My ammunition.”

Rogue smiled as she walked seductively towards the fence.

 

[xmenfilesfan05]

Chapter 3 of A True Rogue:

“What do you mean…ammunition?” Jubilee drug out the last word too much.

Rogue just continued to walk towards the fence. All she could hear was the creaking of her leather combat uniform. It had been made especially for her just like her team uniform. Measured precisely, Rogue wondered if the Professor was actually some pervert who loved tight leather. But then she remembered when he explained the importance of the material. It wasn’t just leather, it was specially made, making it fireproof and somewhat bullet proof. And bullet proof was what they probably needed in a few seconds.

Jubilee stood behind, with Doug, staring at the fast escaping Rogue. She grabbed Doug’s wrist, realizing that Rogue had some sort of plan to get them out. At least she appeared to have one.

“Come on kid!” Jubilee’s breath was heavy, in her attempt to quickly close the distance from them to Rogue.

As Jubilee and Doug approached Rogue, she turned glancing back towards the compound.

“So what's the plan, or are you just gonna surprise us all?” Jubilee snapped out, while pointing at the vials strapped to Rogue’s ribs.

Rogue gently pulled open her uniform, as to make sure the kid didn’t get a free show. She ran her fingers along each of the nine vials.

Jubilee could see that each vial’s rim was a different color. And this certain combination of colors seemed familiar. As Rogue was apparently figuring which vial to pull, Jubilee stood, arms crossed, thinking about the colors. Red, orange, white, silver, blue, purple, yellow, maroon, and black.

“What the…?” Still puzzled, Jubilee rolled up her sleeves.

She stopped and looked. The piping running down her sleeves…it was yellow. It finally hit her.

“Are those vials…us?” Jubilee seemed wary when she questioned this.

The sweet southern drawl dripped, “What makes you think that?”

“Because those colors, they’re the same ones that the Professor gave us on our uniforms, only there’s one there that I don’t know and there’s one missing.” Jubilee looked up as if counting the number of clouds in the sky.

“Green…green is missing!” she pointed back at Rogue. Then she looked up at Rogue’s face and she was staring back at her as if the answer was obvious.

“Oh yeah, that’s you.” She looked down.

“We don’t have time to discuss this right now,” Rogue said as she turned back towards the fence.

“But what’s in them…hey…Rogue!” Jubilee jogged up and put her hand on Rogue’s shoulder.

Rogue flinched and turned quickly as if Jubilee had touched her bare skin.

“Why does it matter to you?” Rogue’s eyes were narrow and she was leaning forward.

“B-B-Because, that yellow one…that’s me…isn’t it?” Pointing so close to Rogue’s bare skin at her chest, Jubilee was sure she was being absorbed.

“Um…hey…ladies.” Doug was on his tiptoes to get in on the conversation.

Rogue hit Jubilee’s hand away and said, “We don’t have time for this!”

She took off towards the fence and so did Doug. Jubilee turned and looked towards the compound and decided to run as well.

“**** Rogue once we get to this fence there’s twenty something guards behind us!” she screamed as she ran.

Rogue reached the fence, turned to reveal she had a vial in her hand. Jubilee was too far away to see what color it was, but Rogue flicked the top off, and a red flash went past Jubilee’s face. Rogue brought the vial to her lips, and tipped it back. She seemed to be holding it in her mouth, and as Jubilee finally reached her, she spit, whatever was in it, back out.

“Holy **** is that blood?” Doug gasped, voice cracking.

Rogue stepped back towards the compound as the guards quickly approached. There were about twenty-four of them, all heavily armed and clothed.

A shiver appeared to run down Rogue’s spine and she bent her arms downward, shoulder’s slouching, and flexed her biceps. The guards stopped fifty feet away, and formed into three rows, one kneeling, one fully standing and a middle row just below the back. Their guns were up and cocked. Rogue was standing and staring at a handful of Uzies, M-16’s, and Black Shadow 12-gauge shotguns. All were pointed at either her or Jubilee.

“Don’t move!” a lonesome voice echoed across the grassy field.

A slight wind flashed across the grass, giving it a lake surface feel. Three against twenty-four, it seemed fair to Rogue, even if the guards had some reason to fire. Then she heard a slight sizzle behind her right ear. She turned and looked. Jubilee was in a crouch and her face was illuminated by a purple glow coming from her hand. Rogue looked back at the guards and one of them, standing up, stared back at her.

She turned back to Jubilee, her hand reached out and screamed, “Jubilee, stop!”

“She’s got a weapon…fire!”

Rogue was aware of what was happening before the sound of the shots echoed outwards. The movements in the air, as all of the triggers were pulled. As the firing pin strikes the primer, igniting the gunpowder. She was aware of the displacement in the air as the casings were ejected from the chamber, flying into the air. And the whole world seemed to fall towards her as she stepped forward, hand raised, as if reaching out to them, and a silent wind fell upon Rogue’s face and hair.

Jubilee was now crouched over Doug, and she looked out as Rogue stood there, alone. Then the bullets became visible, even before the sound of the gunshots emerged. One after another, stopped dead in its flight, as if stuck on some invisible wall. Twisted metal balls and tiny b-b’s dotted the air in front of Rogue. Jubilee could see from her angle, that the image behind where the bullets were hitting was disrupted, like a clear pond with a stone thrown in it. After about fifteen seconds of firing, one of the guards lifted his fist.

There was an unheard silence that crept upon the mutants and humans. Across the total compound. A stillness up into the glistening eye of a startled robin perching in a nearby tree. Rogue, stood there, deadness in her eyes, just staring out at nothing. She, herself, seemed to be radiating the placidity. A tear rolled down her face, as in her head a song, full of resolutions and harmonic chords, played throughout.

Rogue lowered her hand, and tilted her head at the guards. And the hundreds of bits of metal fell to the grass, will dull thuds and tinks. The same wind as before, ran across the field, as if unable to stand the silence, and rustled the grass. Rogue’s hands were at her sides, palms forward, and she lifted her chin, took a deep breath. The guns in the guards’ hands were suddenly yanked free, and floated towards the fence. Rogue breathed out and the guns fell around her.

Rogue settled back onto her heels. She let another tear roll down, over her cheek, nestling very near the lip of her nose. She turned, looking down at the terrified Jubilee and Doug, and smiled, the saddest smile Jubilee had ever seen.

Rogue had been aware of this, and even so, she didn’t care as a guard lifted his pant leg. He withdrew a glistening black glock. He lifted it, squinting his left eye, and pulled.

“Rogue, LOOK OUT!” Jubilee screamed, bloodily, as if her own life was at stake.

Rogue seemed to pause as the bullet ripped through the air. In her mind she knew what had happened, even before the guard fired. Yet she seemed to want it to happen. To end it, the suffering that had existed in her life for so long now.

Then this red light emerged in her mind. It burned, expelling this feeling that Rogue, herself, had never experienced. Falling back to her physical reality, Rogue whipped her body around, towards the guards. She lifted her hand, her pointer and middle finger out, drawing it up next to her cheek. The bullet stopped right at the tip of her fingers. Still spinning, Rogue’s eyes focused on the bullet, lines emerged across her forehead and the bridge of her nose. She was experiencing an emotion that had been constrained by one of her teammates for so long.

The bullet stopped spinning and turned back towards the lone guard.

“You don’t play fair,” Rogue said calmly.

“Let’s make it fair…my turn!” she whispered with a great amount of energy.

Rogue let the bullet drop to the ground as she took huge steps forward. She held her arms out, giving the world a huge hug, and she tilted her head back. She stared past her cheeks and nose at the group of terrified guards.

A wisp of a thought flew, and the hundreds of pieces of metal emerged from the long grass, along side of the Rogue. Rogue tilted her head back, looked around her at the bullets as if they were her own creations. She smiled and stared forward. Rogue brought her fingers into a clench and crossed her arms into an X across her chest. She lowered her chin to her breasts, and looked out at the men. Silence again, only an angry silence. Rogue blinked, unclenched her fingers, making them rigid. She sliced her arms outward, back into the hug, and threw her head back, smiling. At the very same moment, the hundreds of levitating bullets sprang forward, invisible. Rogue was levitating a couple of inches off the ground, her chest and ribs were brought forward of the rest of her body, legs, neck, and arms.

Jubilee screamed, and so did Doug, and Rogue laughed at the sounds of the guards. Metal hitting kevlar, ripping through cotton, polyester, skin, muscle and bone. The grunts and groans of the guards followed the dull thumps of the bullets entering them.

A light fell upon the area, the source unknown. And as the last guard fell, dead, Rogue’s toes touched the ground once more. Her face was emotionless, and her hair out of its binder. She turned on her heels, back towards Jubilee and Doug. She willed them up, onto their feet. She stuck out a hand, fingers clawed, and she severed every wire of the fence in front of her. A shower of sparks came down, and slid off of the barrier Rogue projected. The hiked through the hole and towards the awaiting X-Copter.

Nothing but the slithering silence of the grass underneath their boots. Rogue figured she needed to break it.

“So…are you worth all of the trouble you’ve caused us?” the southern drawl was barely lingering.

“I don’t even know what I’m worth,” Doug’s voice sounded sad.

Rogue leaned towards Jubilee. “What’s his power anyway?”

“I know what people say even when they don’t speak English, and I can read books from other countries,” Doug interrupted.

“He’s an annoyance, is what he is!” Jubilee exclaimed.

“Am not, maybe if you opened your eyes more!” Doug sassed.

“Ah, see, he’s an arrogant, racist, bast-!”

“Jubilee! I had no idea you two weren’t getting along.”

“When I was thrown in the cage with him, he started speaking friggin Japanese to me!” Her hand was pointed at Doug.

Rogue had to stifle a laugh.

“I don’t even speak Japanese!” Jubilee gasped.

As they walked, something shiny fell out of Rogue’s uniform. Jubilee bent over to pick it up. It was the empty vial that Rogue had used. It had a red lining around the rim. Jubilee stopped walking, and Rogue and Doug traveled further away from her. Jubilee stared at the rim. She wondered who had this color. Was it Cyclops…no, the piping on his uniform was blue. Had it been Shadowcat’s blood…again no, her uniform had black piping. She thought hard, very hard. Back to when she was just a student.

Jubilee gasped, and the glass vial slid out of her hand. She stared at the dot that was Rogue. She had absorbed Dr. Grey’s powers. But she couldn’t have, Dr. Grey was dead. Suddenly Rogue was standing next to her.

“I can feel her like she was standing right next to me,” Rogue sobbed.

“But there was something else in me…I don’t know what it was.”

“Get away from me…how could you do something like that!” Jubilee sidestepped away from Rogue and began running towards Doug.

“Jubilee…wait…please….STOP!” Rogue’s hand was reaching towards her.

Jubilee stopped in her tracks, and she was suddenly flying through the air towards Rogue. She was terrified. She was hanging over Rogue, and then she dropped to the ground.

“Just hear me out,” Rogue’s voice wasn’t the same.

“My God, Rogue, you killed all of those men, stole powers.”

“No you don’t understand Jub-,”

“Whose side are you on?” Jubilee turned and walked away from Rogue.

Rogue stood there, alone, in the field, she could see the black rotors of the X-Copter. She was alone yet again. But she didn’t feel alone, there was that red light, it still lingered, even as the last drop of Jean’s mind faded.