Sometimes Rogue wonders if they ever think about her. They, as in the X-Men – Kitty, Kurt, Jean, and the new kids. And Scott. Especially Scott, even now.
Sometimes Rogue hears a howl in the distance, and her heart skips, an image of Wolverine flickering before her eyes. St. John tells her they are wild dogs that run around here in the country, but every time still, the image comes to her. Sometimes she sees the bolt of lightning streak across the sky and hears the distant roll of thunder, and for a split second KNOWS it is Storm before hope fades again, and the rain pours down in place of tears.
That hope is a small, distant thing now. She much prefers sitting with her friends in the house, St. John, Piotr, and Evan, to hope, warm and comfortable next to them as she reads about America in a newspaper published an ocean away.
***
"Still mad at me, are ya?" St. John asks several days later, over a lunch consisting of microwaved pizza.
"Fer the last tahm, NO!" Rogue groans through her mouthful.
"Then why're ya yellin' at me, huh?" he retorts.
"'Cause yer bein' DUMB! Ah'm not mad at ya, okay?"
"How can I make it up to ya?"
She sighs, shaking her head.
"Oh, so I need to figure this out," St. John states with an eager nod, brow creasing in thought. "I've heard that women can be difficult like this. Now, let me think…"
He taps his chin, then breaks into a smile.
"Ah, I've got it! I'll marry you!"
Rogue can't help but laugh.
"Ya'll marry me? Nah, ah don' think so."
"What?! Jeez, some people'd say I'm quite the catch."
"Lahk who?"
"What is this, Twenty Questions? Jeez!"
Rogue toys with her food as she speaks:
"Ah don' have tahm fer marriage, St. John. Ah have mah career ta think of."
"That's no problem; I'll be a stay-at-home husband. Take care of the kiddies and all."
"Kiddies?"
"Oh yeah, I'm thinkin' we'll have seven or so. Maybe eight. I'm not sure."
"Keep dreamin' Crocodile Dundee! Ah'm not ruinin' mah figure with a brood a babies!"
"Fine, fine, I'll have the babies too."
"Will ya?"
"Of course. See what a good husband I'll be? I'm so damned giving."
"Ah couldn' ask fer a better man."
"Finally, you agree with me!"
"But there's still a problem."
"What's that?"
"We've got too much in common."
He snorts, waving a hand.
"No such thing!"
"Sure is!"
"Okay, how?"
Her voice lowers to a whisper.
"We both like guys."
St. John stares at her, silent and without motion. Then he blinks.
"Foiled by logic yet again."
"Mmhmm."
"Okay, well, what CAN I do to make it up to you?"
"Ya could gimme yer last juice box."
"Rogue, Rogue," St. John scoffs, shaking his head and he leans back in his chair. "I may be willin' to marry you, but give you my last juice box? Please, I hardly know you!"
***
The rain is coming down and it seems as if it will never stop. The entire yard is flooded, pool-sized puddles growing wider within even the shallow recesses of grass. On Rogue's floor, beside the window, a metal pan sits to collect drops of water from the leak in the ceiling, which no one can be bothered to repair. It keeps her up at night, the constant dripping, until she takes a blanket and pillow and goes to lie on the floor beside St. John's bed. In the morning, when she staggers out of his room, bleary-eyed and slightly disheveled, Remy is in the hall for some reason. The sight of her coming out of the other boy's room makes his red eyes widen, then narrow, and in a huff he turns and storms down the stairs.
She sighs. Even in Genosha, she has a bad reputation now.
***
"Are ya afraid for 'em?"
It has not been sunny for days, and so Rogue and Piotr must take advantage of it by sitting out on the grass in the yard. But the lawn is damp to match the air, and they huddle somewhat close, bundled in scarves and sweaters.
"Who?" Piotr asks.
"Yer brother and sister."
He thinks for a moment, rubbing at the fabric of his scarf absently.
"No. They are strong."
"Okay, yeah, but put 'em against Magneto…"
"I mean they are strong…" He pauses. "Like WE are strong."
"What do ya…?"
He waves his hand vaguely around himself.
"Like when I become metal. Or when you…" Piotr blushes suddenly. "I do not know what it is you do."
"Ya…ya don' hafta know." She shakes her head. "Yer sayin' they're mutants?"
"Yes! Mutants."
"And so…"
"Magneto will not hurt my siblin's."
Rogue turns her face towards the electrified fence in distance. Mr. McCoy isn't in sight right now, but she knows he's nearby, somewhere, prowling, planning, waiting. Everyone on these grounds is waiting for something, palpably. But perhaps, someday, the wait will end.
"What're ya stickin' 'round fer then?" she whispers.
Piotr watches her serenely, his eyes luminous. Hesitantly, in his own gentle way, he covers her hand with his large one.
"What is it you want?"
*
Author's Note
First of all, I apologize profusely for the length of time it took to update. There was really no excuse for it, other than I simply got stuck. It also seems that my fics get updated the most when I have the least going on in my life, and I'm very busy with college at the moment, so that may explain it too. (Though it didn't stop me from writing other short fics…) All I can say is that I will continue to try to do better. Now, onto the review responses.
Louc S. Swarm: Magneto certainly is planning something, and I think now I know what it is. Whether it involves the others remains to be seen.
Tokyobabe2040: This isn't Ryro because St. John is gay, at least in SBS. But I'm glad you like how I'm writing him.
kukume: I love writing in the present tense. It just makes more sense to me. I actually have the opposite problem – I often switch to present when I'm writing past tense. As for your message…
Dear Elle, kukume thinks your pic of Rogue is uber cool. And so do I.
edanielrya: It took me long enough, didn't it?
Shadowed Tigress: Thanks. I'm a Magik-appreciator, and even though she's not going to appear physically, I like at least mentioning the little snowflake.
One last note to ye all. These are things I encourage – IMing me. Friending me on Livejournal. Emails. Reviews full of rebukes. The more people on my back, and to inspire me with talk and whatnot, the faster I update. Seriously, edanielrya does a fabulous job of hounding me, but she's only one woman. Anyway, that information is on my profile. Until the next update…Merry Christmas if I miss it again!
Sometimes Rogue hears a howl in the distance, and her heart skips, an image of Wolverine flickering before her eyes. St. John tells her they are wild dogs that run around here in the country, but every time still, the image comes to her. Sometimes she sees the bolt of lightning streak across the sky and hears the distant roll of thunder, and for a split second KNOWS it is Storm before hope fades again, and the rain pours down in place of tears.
That hope is a small, distant thing now. She much prefers sitting with her friends in the house, St. John, Piotr, and Evan, to hope, warm and comfortable next to them as she reads about America in a newspaper published an ocean away.
***
"Still mad at me, are ya?" St. John asks several days later, over a lunch consisting of microwaved pizza.
"Fer the last tahm, NO!" Rogue groans through her mouthful.
"Then why're ya yellin' at me, huh?" he retorts.
"'Cause yer bein' DUMB! Ah'm not mad at ya, okay?"
"How can I make it up to ya?"
She sighs, shaking her head.
"Oh, so I need to figure this out," St. John states with an eager nod, brow creasing in thought. "I've heard that women can be difficult like this. Now, let me think…"
He taps his chin, then breaks into a smile.
"Ah, I've got it! I'll marry you!"
Rogue can't help but laugh.
"Ya'll marry me? Nah, ah don' think so."
"What?! Jeez, some people'd say I'm quite the catch."
"Lahk who?"
"What is this, Twenty Questions? Jeez!"
Rogue toys with her food as she speaks:
"Ah don' have tahm fer marriage, St. John. Ah have mah career ta think of."
"That's no problem; I'll be a stay-at-home husband. Take care of the kiddies and all."
"Kiddies?"
"Oh yeah, I'm thinkin' we'll have seven or so. Maybe eight. I'm not sure."
"Keep dreamin' Crocodile Dundee! Ah'm not ruinin' mah figure with a brood a babies!"
"Fine, fine, I'll have the babies too."
"Will ya?"
"Of course. See what a good husband I'll be? I'm so damned giving."
"Ah couldn' ask fer a better man."
"Finally, you agree with me!"
"But there's still a problem."
"What's that?"
"We've got too much in common."
He snorts, waving a hand.
"No such thing!"
"Sure is!"
"Okay, how?"
Her voice lowers to a whisper.
"We both like guys."
St. John stares at her, silent and without motion. Then he blinks.
"Foiled by logic yet again."
"Mmhmm."
"Okay, well, what CAN I do to make it up to you?"
"Ya could gimme yer last juice box."
"Rogue, Rogue," St. John scoffs, shaking his head and he leans back in his chair. "I may be willin' to marry you, but give you my last juice box? Please, I hardly know you!"
***
The rain is coming down and it seems as if it will never stop. The entire yard is flooded, pool-sized puddles growing wider within even the shallow recesses of grass. On Rogue's floor, beside the window, a metal pan sits to collect drops of water from the leak in the ceiling, which no one can be bothered to repair. It keeps her up at night, the constant dripping, until she takes a blanket and pillow and goes to lie on the floor beside St. John's bed. In the morning, when she staggers out of his room, bleary-eyed and slightly disheveled, Remy is in the hall for some reason. The sight of her coming out of the other boy's room makes his red eyes widen, then narrow, and in a huff he turns and storms down the stairs.
She sighs. Even in Genosha, she has a bad reputation now.
***
"Are ya afraid for 'em?"
It has not been sunny for days, and so Rogue and Piotr must take advantage of it by sitting out on the grass in the yard. But the lawn is damp to match the air, and they huddle somewhat close, bundled in scarves and sweaters.
"Who?" Piotr asks.
"Yer brother and sister."
He thinks for a moment, rubbing at the fabric of his scarf absently.
"No. They are strong."
"Okay, yeah, but put 'em against Magneto…"
"I mean they are strong…" He pauses. "Like WE are strong."
"What do ya…?"
He waves his hand vaguely around himself.
"Like when I become metal. Or when you…" Piotr blushes suddenly. "I do not know what it is you do."
"Ya…ya don' hafta know." She shakes her head. "Yer sayin' they're mutants?"
"Yes! Mutants."
"And so…"
"Magneto will not hurt my siblin's."
Rogue turns her face towards the electrified fence in distance. Mr. McCoy isn't in sight right now, but she knows he's nearby, somewhere, prowling, planning, waiting. Everyone on these grounds is waiting for something, palpably. But perhaps, someday, the wait will end.
"What're ya stickin' 'round fer then?" she whispers.
Piotr watches her serenely, his eyes luminous. Hesitantly, in his own gentle way, he covers her hand with his large one.
"What is it you want?"
*
Author's Note
First of all, I apologize profusely for the length of time it took to update. There was really no excuse for it, other than I simply got stuck. It also seems that my fics get updated the most when I have the least going on in my life, and I'm very busy with college at the moment, so that may explain it too. (Though it didn't stop me from writing other short fics…) All I can say is that I will continue to try to do better. Now, onto the review responses.
Louc S. Swarm: Magneto certainly is planning something, and I think now I know what it is. Whether it involves the others remains to be seen.
Tokyobabe2040: This isn't Ryro because St. John is gay, at least in SBS. But I'm glad you like how I'm writing him.
kukume: I love writing in the present tense. It just makes more sense to me. I actually have the opposite problem – I often switch to present when I'm writing past tense. As for your message…
Dear Elle, kukume thinks your pic of Rogue is uber cool. And so do I.
edanielrya: It took me long enough, didn't it?
Shadowed Tigress: Thanks. I'm a Magik-appreciator, and even though she's not going to appear physically, I like at least mentioning the little snowflake.
One last note to ye all. These are things I encourage – IMing me. Friending me on Livejournal. Emails. Reviews full of rebukes. The more people on my back, and to inspire me with talk and whatnot, the faster I update. Seriously, edanielrya does a fabulous job of hounding me, but she's only one woman. Anyway, that information is on my profile. Until the next update…Merry Christmas if I miss it again!