Mock Me

06.10.07 - 06.10.07

an X-Men:Evo FanFic

FOREWORD --- See chapter one for disclaimer, setting, and author's notes.

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CHAPTER FOUR - Pointblank

Fiercely, Rogue grabbed the wrist of the hand at her own lips and tore it away. With adrenaline surging, sitting up was effortless, as was throwing the covers down to the foot of the bed. "Remy! Whadder ya' doin' in here?! Get out!"

Deflated, the interloper replied, "does he come into your room at night?"

"Minus? What tha h-" It occurred to her now that if it had truly been Remy, she would have blacked out at the touch.

His hands waved to stress innocence. Sweeping steps took him away from her bed, and he proceeded for the closed balcony doors. A gesture of a few fingers beckoned a following, which Rogue hesitantly complied with. If Kitty woke up now, who knew what kind of rumors would get around the institute in the morning.

Judging by the angle of the moon and the diminished traffic on the far off roads, it had to be around two AM or so. Dark winds unfurled the long curtains and ruffled each resident's pajamas as Minus closed the tall, glass doors. Like a learned host, the young man turned on his heel with his hands held behind his back. Rogue, meanwhile, stood with her hands on her hips most disgruntled-like. Not that that was new for her.

"I- I just wanted to apologize.." His voice trailed off fittingly, seeing as Rogue had heard about enough of it.

"An' how many taimes have ya' apologized since ya' been here? 'Bout a hundred! Whigh don'tcha stop doin' wrong in tha first place!" Forward steps and a pointed finger accused him. Minus swerved away from the doors and moved further out onto the balcony. He spoke with his hands, mostly.

"That is what I am trying to do! Rogue, listen. I want to set things right, now."

"Well, start fessin' up," she barked.

Again, and with a sigh, he confessed. "Alright. I knew.. that it was a possibility. This is why I left home. It was an accident, as it was when it happened between you and Remy, but they did not understand-"

"Ya' switched up mutants' pow'rs befo'?!" She neared to slap him, or something similar, and Minus backed himself into the corner of the balcony.

Pinned between stone rails and the brick wall, he pled. "Now you know why I had to lie! No one understands!"

With a fisted hand bent back, ready to swing forward, Rogue hesitated only to shout. "Remy's seen ya' mem'ries. Ya' did it on purpose!"

"I did not! Please believe me!" He flinched with arms held up to shield himself. "I can not lie; not to you!" As those words sunk in, Rogue huffed a sharp growl and spun away. At the other end of the balcony and with arms crossed over her chest, she glared at him. With a hand over his heart, Minus wobbled and nearly sunk to the floor. Instead, he balanced himself against the rail and held his tongue.

"Ya' can come up with bettar than that. Ya' already lied ta me, and ta tha whole school."

"I.. I am sor-"

"Wouldja stop already! All Ah want from ya' is ta fix what ya' screwed up; can ya' do that?!"

A hand rose to graze the nape of his neck. Downcast eyes refused to meet hers. "Yes. I returned the previous two to their normal states after their essences had settled. This is why I have not been so worried, you see? Everything is alright."

"No, it's naht. A lotta people got hert 'cause'a you. Kitty, Storm, Kurt... Remy and me especially. If ya' had jus' been honest with us- and with yerself- this all could'a been prevented."

"That is true," he remarked solemnly. "But I am glad to know you were able to enjoy your 'normal' time, at least. I.. After hearing what you said about your ability, I figured if it did happen.. there would be some good to come from it. Do you think so, too?"

A gruff sigh escaped her. "Look, Ah appreciate yer.. tha thought." Cue awkward silence that Minus chose to break with the most-awaited news of these past days.

"I am sure that, by tomorrow, I will be able to return you two to your original states. But..." Finally his shy, gray eyes fled the stone floor to gaze at the humbled goth across the way. "Before then, one last hurrah?"

"Wha'?"

"We go into the city," he replied with a bashful grin. "You, as a normal girl; and I, as a normal boy. I shall show you I am not all bad, then we come back and you and the rat are to be fixed. And.. I explain myself to everyone... or I will leave this house, if you wish it then." Sheepishly, he added, "you are the only friend I have left here, it seems."

Internal musing and contemplation was secret behind Rogue's world-weary countenance. She dangled her company on a string, practically, for several tense minutes. At length, and with reserved sympathy, the girl replied, "fahn."

- -- ----- -- -

Déjà vu, as the French say.

The breakfast scene in all its usually chaos harbored our players affectionately. Remy in the kitchen, staring vacantly into the cafeteria. A wild ocean of bustling residents flowed through the wide aisles and across the floor, blurring together in some kind of erratic yet peaceful melting pot. Amidst it, Minus led Rogue along to the far double doors, and out they went. The Cajun, who saw, nearly choked on his own saliva. Nearly fell out of his chair. Nearly trampled the dozen or so kids in his way as he made for the stairs. After strapping on the necessary covering of gloves, long sleeves, and coat, Remy burst out of the mansion's front doors. He prepped and mounted his bike in record time, and sped off.

Needle in a haystack? Not exactly. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out just where two sixteen-year-olds would head this early in the morning. Remy need only fly by all the fast food restaurants within a mile of the institute before inevitably spotting the two kids. In fact, he'd gotten there so quickly he was able to watch their cab pull away from the curb. Swift jerks of his metal-wrapped foot stopped and stabilized his bike, then a walk-run brought him up to the duo. Laden stealth talents apparently manifested in his steps unconsciously, as no one seemed to have noticed the Cajun. This was doubly remarkable seeing as the parking lot was practically empty, so accidental sounds would have been more easily detected on an unmarred soundscape. So, when Remy seized the younger male's shoulder and jerked him away from Rogue, the latter two acted as if lightning had just stuck in the same place twice. Minus sprawled on the pavement like a kicked puppy. That sight hastened Rogue's recovery from the initial surprise.

"Wha'tha hell, Remy!?" Even furious and bewildered, she kept her distance and fought the urge to slap him.

"Da hell, me? Wha'z wit's you? Didja fo'get everyt'ing from yes'erday? He'z wicked!"

"Yer what's wicked, swamp rat!" Rogue retorted without a second thought. "Minus'as told me everythin', unlaike you."

"How'm I su'pose to tell you anyt'ing when you alwayz run off?" Again, the third person slips in the heat of the moment. "If you'd listen' to me befo', we'd be bedda off, ya' know." Leering, the Cajun glimpsed Minus pulling to his feet in the corner of his eye. In a heartbeat, Remy wheeled around. With his bo staff drawn, the twenty-year-old knocked his opponent down again and held him to the ground with that same steel.

"Remy!"

"Whateva lies you spun for de gerl, ya' gonna be sarry." The staff was jolted to emphasize his point. Distraught, Minus remained silent. Rogue was doing a pretty good job of defending him, anyway. Tense hands grasped the end of the Cajun's weapon to gain some control of its pressure and direction, but his strength was no match for Remy's.

"He is sorry, ya' idiot!" Aware verbal insistence was doing no good, the girl rushed forward and shoved the much taller man. Spawned from that, she clamped down on his shoulders in an attempt to pull him away from the defeated Jersey boy.

Even if Rogue was not able to budge Remy, a devilish hope shown in Minus' visage. While his assailant was distracted with the girl, the gray kid shifted his hold and tugged hard. Maybe it was a lack of able grip in his gloves, or a wavering determination, but in any case, Remy's weapon slipped from him. Clangs and clatters filled the air as the staff fell to the ground, and then was drug into use by the still laid-out Minus. While he angled the pole to help him stand, Rogue released Remy. Given that her companion was more-or-less free, the girl elected to storm off.

"Sha, wait!" Bad move, turning his back on Minus like that. Testament to effective Danger Room sessions, the Catalyst brought the weapon down on Remy's collar with impeccable aim and debilitating force. The Cajun crumpled half-way to the ground. Silver-lining was pronounced as a gloved hand held his weight while one leg kicked out to trip the aggravating kid. More clinks and clangs were secondary to Minus' own 'oof' as he flopped to the ground.

As soon as the ball of his foot came down on the pavement again, Remy shifted his weight back on it, then launched forward. Several steps created a decent distance as the older male regained his balance. Thereafter, a sharp about-face illustrated his commitment to getting his staff back, if not teaching the kid a lesson. However, it seemed Minus had other plans. Leaving the petty bo staff behind, the sixteen-year-old was hightailing it out of the parking lot.

With priorities in order, Remy snatched up and telescoped-closed the weapon. Apparent now was the fact Rogue had taken off for some unknown destination. Grumbling to himself, the Cajun sprinted to his bike and tore off down the street. Obviously, he didn't have to go far, as Rogue's two feet couldn't take her quickly enough away. Meandering down some ambiguous sidewalk, she was keen to ignore Remy as he slowed to chug along beside her, in the gutter.

"Rogue-"

"Ah don' wanna hear it," she huffed, not bothering to glance his way. "It doesn' madder anyway. If it's naht tha institute or somebady laike you, then it's me, myself, and Ah. Ah can't be normal. Ah don't even know how ta anymore."

Smoothly, Remy replied, "it'z like ridin' a bike, sha. Remy show you." A hand waved to summon her on, but she rejected him. Her pace picked up. So did his; and more easily since he was driving. There was no way she could outrun him, obviously. As if this suddenly dawned on the girl, she swung around with hands on hips to confront the young man.

"And what diffe'nce is that gonna make, huh? You cain't touch."

Head cocked to one side, the Cajun stared quizzically at the implication. "Sha. Remy di'n know you had it in ya'."

The girl visibly bristled. "Ah meant that's naht normal, swamp rat!"

"So, Remy shoul' take ya' back to yo'r date wit' de liddle liahr."

"It was naht a date," she continued harshly.

"Oh? He seem jus' yo'r type." He likely only said so to hear her deny it.

"Sniveling coward? Ah think naht."

"Mais," he mused, turning his attention to his hands. Between each he juggled invisible objects representing respective traits. "De fille don' like cowardice. Don' like confid'aunce. Don' like de charmer. Don' like de amateur..." As he listed these off, Rogue was not the least bit amused. Slight laughter shown in his voice, though. "At leas' admit him and me, we no-t'ing alike."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but not as though she were fighting his accusation. "Maybe yer not," she did admit quietly. With that, she turned and began homeward again. In an equal tone, though it diminished to a steep, lackluster end, Rogue concluded, "maybe Ah donn'o what Ah want.. but laike Ah said, it doesn't madder anymore."

Considerately, the rest of the trek back to the mansion went without banter. Remy discontinued his efforts to get Rogue to ride with him, but only as a precaution against the Catalyst's ability. As Rogue was forced to walk, so was he, dragging the motorcycle beneath him. Of course, the final stretch from the gate to the circular driveway proved the longest in a poetic sense. If only it could have gone on forever.

"Miss me?" Minus shouted over the distance. There he stood, about twenty feet from the front doors, all on his own but with a dark air of confidence enveloping his figure. He was the picture of the school yard omega ready to exact revenge on his bully. At first glance, the concept seemed ridiculous. He at least could have armed himself with a stick or something.

"Don't even-" Rogue couldn't finish.

"You know it." Remy's reply was baited with subliminal malice made evident as he dismounted his bike, shoved his sunglasses into his coat, and strode purposefully ahead of the girl. The latter growled to herself and halted in place while the Cajun whipped out his bo staff. Differences of opinion, at least between the two southerners, were hastily put aside when a vibrant, magenta flare caught their attention. Remy faltered, perplexed, as Minus presented a charged cat's eye marble between his middle finger and thumb. An impish grin marred the gray kid's usually placid features.

"I told you, gloves can not save you!"

The parking lot...

The three of them...

They'd all been in contact at once...

"Neither can coats, nor staffs!" Minus finished his statement with an explosive punctuation. A flick of a few fingers tossed that marble, along with several others, toward the Cajun. There wasn't much choice for the moment, Remy had to turn and run. On his way, he signaled for Rogue to do the same. As the trend of success with the swamp rat's plans went, however, it seemed Rogue intended to do her own thing.

Glass orbs were easily dodged, given her training, but her speed compared horribly with Minus'. While the girl cartwheeled and back-flipped out of the range of the Jersey boy's latest barrage, Remy was drawing from his coat a deck of cards. It had been days since this skill was put in practice, honestly, but his prowess wasn't the least bit faded. Perfectly aimed, alight throwing-cards embedded in the yard and bounced off the pavement around their impromptu opponent. According to tactic, Minus retreated backward several feet to avoid the subsequent blasts.

In the background, Rogue tested previously possessed powers on a blade of grass. No luck. So, if Remy had played the part of the catalyst, she and Minus had switched abilities. Emitting a gruff sigh, Rogue realized she'd have to rely purely on her combat training for this situation. Frankly, she had planned to rough the gray kid up already. Remy had been right all along.

This could go on for days. Gambit against Gambit, basically. One throws while the other retreats. Rinse and repeat. What Minus couldn't steal, however, was Remy's daring. The gambler. The risk-taker. Minus spent his time holding his ground while the Cajun worked across his diameter. Eventually, the sixteen-year-old villain had his back toward Rogue.

Charge! Er, in the forward-tackle sense, this time. The girl sprinted directly on Minus' location, halted at the last minute, a delivered a devastating roundhouse to his gut. As he gasped to retake the air knocked out of him, Rogue grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back.

"Remy," she called. He was already approaching, but he quickened his gait to humor her. "Here." And she held out her free, bare, pale hand.

After gazing at this with his brows raised, he insisted first, "enlighten Remy."

"Yer absorption, Ah'm catalyst, he's kinetics. Ah'll switch ya' two back."

"Et tu?"

She growled.

"Whadda'bout you, sha?"

"Minus said before, we miaght could void his pow'rs durin' tha switch." As she said this, she jerked the young man's held wrist. Bare skin on bare skin. "An' his mem'ries confirm that, righ'?" Remy limply nodded. "Absorption versus Catalyst. Ah dunno what'll happen, but we migh' as well trigh it!"

"But, Rogue. Remy already touch' him wit' yo'r pow'rs. No-t'ing like that happened."

She hesitated for a minute before suggesting, "sustained contact."

"Dat don' sound exactly sa-" Of course, Rogue didn't care to hear the Cajun's take on this. Without further ceremony, she stepped swiftly forward and grabbed his gloved hand. Like each time before, there was no physical indication of the Catalyst's powers taking effect. Remy balked and jerked his hand from Rogue, then. Alone with Minus on the circuit, a very familiar pain gripped the girl like lightning through her head. Suddenly dizzy, Rogue released the Jersey boy and staggered. Down went Minus, unconscious, but no one paid him any mind. Remy dropped his bo staff and lurched across the distance to brace Rogue from falling. A coat-covered arm helped to support the girl's weight as she recovered.

A rumbled, "hmm," in Remy's chest assured Rogue she had not passed out. Even so, it wasn't exactly comforting. "How da we know dat wasn' him?" They both glared at the fallen young man's form in the wrecked yard.

"Take off ya' glove an' smack him." Despite her serious tone, Remy chuckled.

"To be hones', sha, Remy t'ink he rat'ur chance it wit'chu."

"It's safer ta try him," she persisted.

The Cajun was relentless, as usual. "Nah, de risk iz pro'lly fi'dy/fi'dy."

Deflated, Rogue put on her most nonchalant face. Her vibrant green eyes rolled again to illustrate a strong discontent with the options. "Fahn." But no glove was shed. Not even a sleeve rolled up. In place of a simple tap on the hand or brush of an arm, Remy bent around the girl and firmly kissed her. And wilted. And sunk to the ground on his knees. Rogue followed him down for the heck of it. While the Cajun managed to remain alert and not black out in the following seconds, the girl fought with a cloud of despair hanging overhead. The subtle depression that accompanied her powers came flowing back through her veins, but was it because of the future ahead, or the past she just left behind?

"Try yers," the girl murmured to her conscious company as she scooted a foot or two away. Remy shuffled his legs out straight and sat leaning back on one arm. Obligated by the request, he fished his cards out of a pocket where he'd only just replaced them moments prior. From the reduced deck, the Cajun drew off the top card. Between his dexterous fingers, the plastic-coated paper came ablaze with translucent, magenta fire. A thumb to the corner of the card flipped it around. His stern, red on black eyes studied the suit: three of hearts; then, with a careless shrug, he tossed it over his shoulder. It detonated quietly in the driveway, bursting into unrecognizable, smoldering pieces.

Cue the welcome home party. Logan, trailed by a curious Tabitha, burst out of the front doors and onto the steps. His adamantium claws were at the ready as if he expected to rush into a battle. As he realized the fight was long since over, and that all involved seemed to be out of commission and on the ground, he snarled. "Somebody wanna tell me what's going on here?!"

Wordlessly, the duo on the lawn exchanged guilty looks. Rogue's sulky half-grin went unabashed by Remy's inquisitive stare.

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END THEME - If there was a lengthy bill of credits to roll here, Fischerspooner's A Kick In The Teeth would be playing in the background.

REVIEWS? - Since I'm publishing this story all at once, there's obviously no pause for comments in between each chapter. So, if need be, I'll submit a 'chapter 5: writer's reflections' for responses, answers, and so on. :)

FINAL WORD - I confess, as you reach the end, the title of this story should change in meaning. "Mock Me" is not a taunt (as one would anticipate to be barked between our two stars.) Rather, it's a breathless utterance traceable to the lips of those staring into the face of "greener grass" as it's usually found, a drab yellow-brown and dying, on the other side. FIN.