"Rogue!" All the voices seemed disembodied, now. She knew they addressed her, but she couldn't understand. Not past "we lost him."

"Rogue, say something. Are you-" Everything becomes a buzz. The X-Jet is rocking and turning wildly, they're not out of the woods, yet. Her hands were shaking, and when she set them on her lap she remembered she was soaked. Soaked, through to the skin with his blood. Whose? 'Rem-' "Rogue?" Hank and Ororo stood helplessly. Underneath them was a still figure that didn't respond to the rocking of the jet.

Kurt is praying, she can hear his words babble in and out of her ears, slightly. And Kitty was crying, collapsed against Piotr's broad arms. Jean's head is in her hands, feeling worse every time Scott calls out to the clearly shell-shocked Rogue. Logan finally takes action, grabbing the mute girl and dragging her towards the back of the jet. She's in shock, she cannot speak. She almost died. Somebody did.

But it's January, in the real world. Rogue's skin is colorless, blue veins shining through. She needs new gloves or she'll lose her fingers; A new uniform or she'll catch pneumonia and he'll have to heal her, again. He tugs at her garments and she puts up no resistance. But, she doesn't want to part with his bloody, soaked trench coat.

"I'll take care of it, darlin." He promised apologetically, staring into her glossy eyes. But the girl was immunocompromised enough from her mutation and genes, he'd never seen a kid get sick so often. In painless seconds she was wrapped in a much more dry, insulated X-Suit and her skin was a screaming red, angry for the cold. Not a listless, lifeless white (even for her).

The sight makes him feel better, but not much. She survived for a simple reason. She can heal, he can't. He can heal her. He would've healed Gumbo too, but his powers don't work that way. He sees where her eyes have drifted off to and he pulls her close. There's nothing he can say, but he can hold her. He'd reckon it's all she wants as she slowly begins to cry.

Seven years. Seven years at the mercy of Nathaniel Essex, on a quest to create the ultimate mutant. Cutting, scraping, doping, shooting him into oblivion. Cracking his powers and building them up again, over and over. Searching for the ultimate life form. What he'd managed to create was tainted blood, unholy things. The things of nightmares. Nocturnal beasts that needed blood to survive. Was this his fan fiction? He finally cross bred his samples so much he created mythical creatures. Monsters of the night. Vampires.

Now, he had a new obsession. These creatures who depended on him, a liege he could unleash on the world if he so chose. But, all Remy wanted to do was get back to his one. His only. Rogue. The mutant had staged his elaborate death and whisked him off, mutating him into someone he didn't recognize. Something other than the cajun mutant from New Orleans. Hair down his back, skin white as snow. Eyes a piecing red and glinting fangs.

Eventually, Sinister engineered his projects to become too powerful. One broke free and freed the others, sharing a special vampiric link. One even he couldn't listen in on. He found himself outsmarted, fast. And feasted upon. His mutated blood was hardly satisfying, but it was one thing that kept him from regenerating as he always had. Then, Remy broke into the night from his bretheren to find his love. Hoping she'd understand, maybe even change with him if they find a way.

The mansion was a hole, New York mostly rubble after the sentinels. All he found was Kitty, with an eye patch. Nothing else.

"She thought you were gone..." She explained, a tear in her eye. "Everyone else is gone, too. All except me..." He shakes his head. He won't believe it, that she took her own life. She was a fighter, she had to know.

Seven years. She couldn't bare it. He'd let her die, trapped with Sinister. He disappeared from Kitty and he did not seek her again.

Rogue devolved into wheezing, hard on the floor of the cold jet. She was wrapped in Kitty, Jean, and Ororo's arms as the cockpit of the jet erupted into another argument. The women were trying to tune them out, anything to keep the heartbroken girl calm.

"YOU ASK HER." Logan snarled, so angry it was a wonder he didn't eject himself from the plane. Scott shot to the air and towards the back of the plane, all three X-Women holding on protectively to Rogue.

"Scott," Ororo began. Rogue was in a fragile state, they all truthfully were.

"Rogue," Scott steeled his face. Unshed tears were hidden by his visor, and he was thankful for it. He didn't like Gambit, and definitely not with her. But, he saved her life. And he couldn't help but relate with Jean, how he'd feel if she threw herself on a sword for him. A passing thought makes Scott's knees tremble, just thinking it. Jean senses that, batting at her own eyes with her hand. "I want to go to D.C." He said, forcing his voice to be even.

"Cyclops-" Kitty begins, the look in her blue eyes surprisingly hard. Ever since the Mutant Registration Bill passed, he had a reputation as a 'slave driver'. Rogue couldn't handle being pushed any harder, and they all remembered how he took Jean's missing stint due to the Phoenix.

"She needs to get home." Jean suggests, her voice tired.

"Why." All eyes, even Logan's dropped back towards her. It was the first time Rogue had spoken in a while.

"We just busted our asses, fought, lost." Rogue turned away when his voice broke involuntarily. "Lost people cleaning up the government's mistake. Those sentinels malfunctioned because they hated us so much." His face hardened and he clenched his fists. "Not anymore. Mutant Registration is here, conferences will be held. We are talking to him, to the president. We put our neck on the line for his approval rating."

All eyes landed on the pale girl. "Ah wanna go."

"Rogue," Logan placed the jet on auto-pilot and tore towards the back cabin. "Are you-"

"He'd want me to." Silence. Rogue chuckled, and Kitty began to chew her lip. "He always wanted to to thieve from there." A dry smile spread out on Scott's face.

"I know, Rogue." He clasped his singed, gloved hand over her own. "Thank you."

xxx

President Johnson stared at the numerous cameras, his entire campaign standing outside the shot. The second wave of the Sentinel Program had failed, miserably. Human civilians were hurt and terrorized, and the mutant team of the X-Men had saved countless lives. Graham Johnson was a good man, one who got into office to help things. Change them.

But, he quickly found that not to be what politics were about. He knew what his people, his party wanted him to say. Republicans and Democrats were united under one thing, mutants. Against them. He looked up from his desk to notice everyone was frozen. He thought it was a prank, some shitty internet challenge. But, when the sky grew dark he knew it was something more. He adjusted his striped tie and swallowed. People were added.

A group of them. The X-Men. Even Charles Xavier. He stood in awe of the group, all different races and sizes. Colors. One woman with white hair, her eyes glowed white as a storm started outside. Lightning flashed, showing him how many there were. President Graham moved, but they didn't. They stood, stone faced. Solemn. Some cried. He looked at all their different faces, a blue one waving.

"Hello, President Graham." The telepath began in a soft voice. "Please, do sit down."

"I'd rather stand." He answered, shaking. Rogue was clutching the hand of Kitty's and the other Kurt's. Logan stood behind her, stoned faced. Then Jean, Scott, Ororo, Hank Bobby, Piotr, Amara, and Laura.

"Jean." Charles called, and she levitated a file forward. The president watched, mute. "There are the files of newly released William Stryker, and his second failed Sentinel initiative. The one we lost somebody stopping, saving innocent humans from their own government. One made to serve them." Rogue inhaled sharply, but otherwise a sound was not heard. "Now, president. You're about to be faced with a choice. We only come begging you make the right one, the one we know you want to make. Mutants are here to stay, that better tomorrow can come tomorrow."

A crash of thunder was heard, then the lights flickered. Then, they were gone.

"President, you're on in three... Two... One..."

"H-Hello, my fellow Americans..."