Categories > Movies > X-Men: The Movie > X3: The Ace of Spades

Chapter 14: Recovery

by ShadowPikachu 1 review

Rogue recovers.

Category: X-Men: The Movie - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Romance,Sci-fi - Characters: Rogue - Published: 2009-07-11 - Updated: 2009-07-11 - 10789 words

Disclaimer: X-men is owned by Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox. I do not own X-men, nor am I making a profit from this work of fan-fiction. So don't sue me! Not that you'd get a whole lot from me anyway ;)

A/N: Well, they just keep coming! Already back with another chapter. Hope you all had great 4th of July weekends – I had a fun time with my family camping for the weekend. Work was still slow this last week (although it started picking up yesterday) so I had time to work on the chapter then while spending time with my family after work.

Thanks for all of your reviews last chapter, great to get feedback – I haven’t had any time to respond to all of them, so I’ll just thank everyone here. On to the chapter:

Chapter 14: Recovery

The last rays of the sun poked feebly over the horizon as Remy neared his stop. Remy smoothly pulled the car into the last empty space in front of his apartment building, and shut it down. It was part of an apartment complex further downtown, in the Bronx. The apartments had stood at that spot for close to fifty years, and their imposing brick facades gave testament to that. The current owner had renovated the entire complex two years earlier, and Remy had quickly put down for a lease on a large two-roomer on the top floor.

Remy palmed his key to his apartment, and walked to the opposite side of the car and opened the door. He unbuckled Rogue’s seatbelt, and knelt down to lift her in his arms. He was able to do so without much effort, especially when she unconsciously snuggled closer and placed an arm around his neck.

Remy locked up the car, and made the quick walk to the small elevator that serviced the building. He received several strange looks from two older men and their wives who looked to be coming back from a night on the town, but he ignored them as they exited the elevator before him. Finally, it reached the fifth floor and he walked to the end of the hall and to his door, slid his key into the lock, and opened it.

Remy kicked the door shut behind him with his foot, and walked further into the apartment. He moved past the small living room and kitchen and down a small hall to two doors. He passed the first – it had been the smaller of the two rooms and he’d set it up as an exercise area – and pushed open the door to the second: the master bedroom.

Remy set Rogue gently down onto his large bed, and slipped his head out from under her arm. She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, and unconsciously turned on her side and grasped a pillow the way she’d been embracing Remy’s neck.

Remy smiled down at her, and tentatively reached out with his empathy. Since she’d passed out in the car her emotions had stopped hammering him as they had been, and now when he touched her mind he felt merely a sense of confusion.

As he looked at her, he noticed for the first time that her gloves were stained the dark red, almost maroon color of dried blood, and recalled her statement on the phone when she’d called him. He leaned down and gently peeled the gloves from her hands, and tossed them aside.

Remy pulled back, the movement triggering a stabbing pain in his chest. “Fuck,” he whispered, stumbling over to the bathroom mirror. The shower and toilet themselves were in their own small room, but the sink and mirror were out in the main bedroom. He pulled his shirt off, and grimaced as the movement sent a ripple of fresh pain through him.

Remy unhooked the catches on his body armor and removed it piece by piece. He saw that the plate covering his stomach had been dented perceptibly inward in the shape of a fist, and decided he didn’t want to think about what would have happened had he not worn it. When he slipped it off, he saw a brilliant purple bruise across his stomach where Rogue had landed her punch.

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder in the mirror at the sleeping Rogue. “Who de hell did you absorb, /Chére/?” He asked softly.

Remy turned to look at his back and saw several more bruises forming from his landing on the garbage cans, but they were not close in severity to the one on his abdomen. Remy walked out of the room and into the kitchen, and grabbed several ice packs he kept in the freezer for just that sort of injury.

Once back in the bedroom he looped a towel around his body, and placed the ice packs in it, positioning them along his abdomen and back, and tying the towel off at his side so they pressed against the bruises. He popped half a dozen painkillers into his mouth and downed them with a glass of water before he sank into a soft chair near the bed.

Once he shifted into a comfortable position, he pulled out his cell-phone and punched in the number for the mansion. The main line rang once and was immediately picked up. “H’lo?” A gruff voice answered the phone.

“Logan,” Remy smiled. “You’re back?”

“Yeah, just got back with Charles. ‘Roro was starting to explain everything to us. You find Rogue?” He asked, sounding tense, his worry for Rogue clear in his voice.

Remy sighed. “Yeah, I found her. Is Stormy an’ Charles dere?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, not sounding satisfied with Remy’s answer.

“Put me on de speaker phone so dey can hear too.”

There was a pause and then an audible click and Logan’s voice came back, sounding slightly more distant. “Alright, you’re on, Cajun.”

“Remy, you found her?” Storm asked.

“Is she alright?” the soft voice of Sarah called out over the line.

“Sarah? Didn’ ‘spect to hear you dere. Yeah, I found her, an’ I think she’ll be okay. Far as I c’n tell she was helping someone dat got hurt, an’ touched dem an’ absorbed too much. She couldn’ remember who she was, an’ was pretty scared.”

“I got her talkin’, an’ when she saw me she started rememberin’ flashes. I tol’ her some things t’try to jar her memory back, an’ den she seemed t’be startin’ to remember. Passed out half an’ hour ago an’ she’s been sleepin’ since den.”

He could almost hear Xavier’s nod. “It definitely sounds like she either absorbed someone too powerful for her to handle instantly, or too much of the person’s psyche. When Rogue touches someone, she keeps not only their powers, but a small copy of their actual mind, and absorbing a large enough copy could cause her to confuse the new psyche with her own mind.”

Remy chewed on his lip for a moment. “I think it might’ve been both. She was talkin’ to me wit’ a Boston accent, an’ her eyes actually started turnin’ blue until she remembered who she was. She’s also still got de powers of de person she touched – ‘parrently dey were invulnerable: she got shot at close range by a trigger happy cop, an’ her skin flattened ‘em like pancakes.”

“Hm. That is unusual that she can still access those abilities so long after she absorbed them. In any case, I know you said she seems to be remembering, but I believe I may need to enter her mind to help it heal itself and recover. Will you be here soon?” Charles asked.

Remy cleared his throat. “Uh, no. I got a place here in New York, an’ she’s sleepin’ here. I’ll bring her back t’morrow, but I wanna be sure she’s up to it. Don’ want her havin’ a breakdown again, wakin’ up dere an’ seein’ Bobby or anythin’ like that.”

He heard Logan growl at the mention of Bobby, and Remy realized Ororo had already filled them in on that part of what happened. Xavier seemed to think about it for several moments before he replied. “Alright, Remy. I’d like to see her as soon as possible, but you make a good point. Her mind may also use the time to heal, so try not to wake her if you can help it. We will see you tomorrow?”

“/Oui/,” Remy said. “Can I talk t’Stormy privately?”

“Of course,” Xavier said, and Remy could hear background noises sound over the phone. “Logan and I will leave you with her.”

Moments later, Ororo spoke over the line. “They’re gone, Remy.”

“Alright. Sarah, you bein’ good for Stormy?”

“Yeah,” Sarah said, sounding somewhat sad. “You’re not coming back tonight?”

“No, petite, I’m sorry. Rogue’s in pretty bad shape, an’ I want t’make sure she’s better before I take her dere. Get Stormy to tuck you in, /hein/? An’ have her show y’where her room is ‘case you have any more bad dreams, okay /petite/?”

“Okay, Remy. Tell Rogue I hope she feels better soon.”

“I’ll take care of her for you, Remy.” Ororo promised.

“Remy?” Sarah asked tentatively.


“You’re hurt again, aren’t you?” She said, more of a statement than a question.

Remy chuckled, still amazed at her ability to tell that just by hearing his voice, and then winced as his side twinged. “Yeah, /petite/. At least dis time I didn’ get shot. I’ll be alright – should be healin’ up by de time I get dere tomorrow.”

“Okay, Remy,” she said dubiously, “see you tomorrow.”

“G’night you two,” Remy said, and they replied in kind. He heard the other end click, and flipped his phone shut. He stood up and pulled the chair up next to the bedside, and leaned forward until his head rested on the bed next to Rogue, and let his eyes fall shut and sleep overcome him.


Rogue blinked blearily as she awoke. She could hear the soft noise of a television nearby, but it was drowned out mostly by the sound of running water. She rubbed her eyes, and lifted her head from her pillow.

She glanced around, and felt a sudden panic as she realized she was not in her room, and that in fact she didn’t recognize the place at all. She turned her head toward the sound of running water, and instantly relaxed when she saw Remy standing at the sink. He stood in front of the mirror, running a razor along his shin as he shaved the last few patches of stubble on his face.

He had a towel wrapped loosely over his abdomen, but he was otherwise shirtless, and she found herself sleepily admiring his muscled arms and back. As her eyes ran over him, she noted that his smooth, tanned skin was marred in several places along his back by scars – no doubt ones obtained in his line of work with the Thieves Guild.

Remy tapped the razor under the running faucet, and bent down to splash several handfuls of water, rinsing his face. As he grabbed a small hand towel and patted his face dry, he froze for a moment and then smiled, turning toward Rogue, having finally seen her in the mirror.

Rogue felt a rising blush, having been caught ogling him, but he didn’t seem to notice it. He approached her, sliding a loose t-shirt on himself over the towel, and sat down in a chair directly next to her bed.

“Rogue?” He asked tentatively.

“Remy, where am Ah?” She asked, and noticed his posture relaxed as she talked.

“You’re at my apartment in New York,” he said tentatively.

Rogue smiled and glanced around, taking in the room – it looked just about how she would have imagined. The walls were covered in numerous movie posters, a small pile of dirty clothes laid untidily in the corner of the room, and the dressers were littered with dozens of packs of playing cards; on a nearby table stood what looked like the bottom two floors of a house of cards Remy had begun to build.

“How did Ah get here?” She asked, bringing her gaze back to him.

Remy frowned. “Let’s take it slow, /Chére/. What can y’remember?”

She thought over that for a moment. “The last thing Ah remember, Ah was walkin’ down th’street. Ah was thinkin’ ‘bout takin’ th’Cure.” She said softly. “Why was Ah goin’ to do that?” she asked herself quietly.

Her eyebrows furrowed together, and then her eyes widened, and tears began to leak from them. She saw Remy looking at her with concern, and she shut her eyes and raised a hand to her mouth, muffling a soft sob. “R-Remy, Ah saw Bobby. He- he was-.”

Remy moved onto the bed – there so quickly that Rogue hadn’t even noticed him move – and encircled her with his arms. “I know, /Chére/, I know. Piotr told us when he was sure y’had de time you needed to make your choice ‘bout de Cure.”

Rogue sniffled into his shirt. “Ah remember Ah was gonna take it because he said Ah’d never find anyone, an’ ah thought he was right. But when Ah was standin’ in line Ah realized he was wrong. You an’ Logan aren’t bothered by mah powers like he was. Ah tried to think what you would do if you were there, an’ Ah realized yah wouldn’ take the cure. So Ah left the line, an’….” She pulled back and looked up at Remy in confusion. “Ah can’t remember anythin’ after that.”

Remy smiled into her hair and squeezed her tightly. “Figured y’might not remember. An’ you’re right, Rogue – I don’ need you t’take de Cure. I ain’ like Bobby – your powers could last f’rever without control, an’ it still wouldn’ bother me.”

Rogue flushed, her face hidden in his chest. She sighed contentedly into his shirt, and let herself relax as he held her.

“Remy, I–” she began as she looked up finally, and then blushed even more heavily when her stomach growled loudly. She hadn’t eaten since lunch-time the previous day, and her stomach had decided to make its needs known quite vocally.

Remy laughed. “How ‘bout I make you some breakfast, an’ you try t’remember. If you still can’t, I’ll tell you what I know over breakfast.”

Rogue nodded against his chest, and reluctantly pulled back. He ran the back of his hand against her cheek, and she felt her heart clench hopefully – his touch seemed downright affectionate. She saw a look of relief in his eyes, mixed with another emotion, before he turned them away, and stood, backing away to make his way out the door of the bedroom.

Rogue leaned back in the bed, gently placing a hand to her cheek where the tingling from his touch still lingered. After several minute she heard the sound of bacon sizzling, and smiled.

Rogue’s attention became drawn to the television sitting on a stand opposite the bed. It was on, playing softly, and she groped around on the nightstand for the remote. She turned up the volume, just as the news channel switched to a new story. The video showed an ambulance sitting near a large crowd on a street, its lights flashing as a body bag was carried into the back by two paramedics.

The female news anchor began to speak as the image played. “In local news, Mount Vernon experienced a fatal shooting last night, apparently in a robbery gone bad. Police are still looking for the man who assaulted a young woman last night, shooting her in the chest and before stealing her valuables.”

A sketch of the man appeared on the screen, and Rogue felt a pounding headache begin in her head as the news anchor explained the sketch had been created by police artists from eyewitness descriptions.

“Police have confirmed that the victim was 22 year-old Carol Danvers. She attended college locally in New York City, and was originally from Boston. We have attempted to speak with her parents, but have been unable to obtain an interview at this time….”

The news anchor droned on, but Rogue’s attention was fixed completely on the screen where they had displayed a photo of the woman, obviously obtained from a college ID. As Rogue stared at the young blond – her brilliant blue eyes and white smile were clear even in the grainy picture - and her headache worsened, and the memories of the previous night began to flood back: Carol lying on the pavement, Carol slipping away weakly beneath her hands, Carol gripping her wrist, confusion exploding through her mind as memories flooded her, the shocked look on Remy’s face as he flew through the air away from her, the hammering impact of bullets in her abdomen.

“Remy!” Rogue cried out, as her hands groped down to her stomach only to find no bandaging, no wound, only two small bruises on her skin.

A clatter of dishes sounded in the kitchen, and within moments Remy had rushed into the room. “Rogue?” He asked. “What’s wrong?”

Rogue raised a hand from her abdomen and pointed a shaky finger to point at the television, and she absently realized she wasn’t wearing any gloves.

He turned his head to follow her finger, and saw the picture of Carol. “What is it, /Chére/?” He asked, looking back to her as he sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Ah remember it all now, Remy. The gun, and – ” She looked at him and paled. “Oh God, Remy,” she said.

She moved forward, and tugged his shirt up frantically, loosening the towel, and peered at the large bruise that had blossomed. She looked up at him in anguish. “Ah’m sorry.” She said. “Ah didn’ realize it was you, an’ Ah just reacted.”

Remy smiled gently over at her. “I know, Rogue. Y’weren’t y’self. I’m alright – already feelin’ better.” He said, and placed a hand reassuringly over hers.

“Can y’tell me what happened, /Chére/? I only know from de time you called me to now, but I made a few guesses what might’ve happened.” He nodded over to the TV, which had moved on to another news story. “Dat girl have somethin’ to do with it?”

“Yeah,” Rogue whispered, swallowing heavily.

Remy scooted down the bed, and sat next to her, placing an arm around her shoulder. “Take y’time, /Chére/.”

Rogue released a shaky breath, and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Ah was walkin’ away from th’clinic, lookin’ for a cab. Ah was gettin’ ready t’call yah an’ ask for a ride, an’ then Ah saw a man shovin’ a woman around – the woman on the news.”

“He-he shot her, and took off. No one was helpin’ her, so Ah went over. Figured what Ah learned from Annie might help. The girl, Carol, was already bleedin’ really bad,” Rogue said, shaking of her head bleakly. “Ah tried keeping pressure on it, an’ tried t’get her to talk to me.”

A tear leaked down her cheek. “She was a nice girl. When we talked it was almost like we were ol’ friends catchin’ up after not seein’ each other for a while.” Rogue said with a sad smile.

“She was a mutant, too. Her dad was forcin’ her t’take the Cure. Ah tol’ her Ah was too, b’cause she seemed scared Ah’d stop helpin’ her when Ah found out. Her dad had her wearin’ a collar that stopped her powers – if it wasn’t for that, the bullet would’ve smashed up when it hit her like it did me,” she said, touching her abdomen absently.

“Ah think the bullet hit an artery or somethin’, because she started coughin’ up a lot of blood, an’ looked like she was gonna pass out. Then she touched me.” Rogue said, a look of wonder on her face. “She deliberately grabbed onto mah wrist an’ let me absorb her. Ah didn’ realize what she’d done ‘till it was too late, an’ she kept hold until she died.”

Rogue glanced up at Remy. “Ah could feel her thoughts – she wanted it t’happen ’cause she was in so much pain, an’ scared of dyin’ like that. She wanted t’die her own way instead of ’cause of what her father had done to her.”

Remy kept silent when she took a deep breath to begin talking again.

“After that, all her memories flew through mah head, an’ Ah was so confused. Ah ran, an’ ran, an’ eventually, Ah realized that Ah was just watchin’ mahself run. Ah tried to stop, but it was like someone else was controllin’ me. Ah think it was Carol. When her mind came in, she saw mah own memories an’ couldn’ tell who she was, an’ Ah had a hard time rememberin’ at th’same time. Ah had to fight her every step, get her t’call you t’help me. Ah managed to get control over mah hand, an’ eventually mah body, but we kept switchin’ back an’ forth.”

“Ah felt like Ah was goin’ crazy, bein’ two people at once. An’ then y’came an’ saved me, an’ Ah remembered. An’ Ah hit yah…” Rogue said, trailing of guiltily. She reached out again to touch the large bruise visible where he hadn’t tugged his shirt down the rest of the way.

He snagged her bare hand in his gloved one. “Don’ touch me.”

Rogue felt a stab of hurt in her chest at his words. - Was he turning away like Bobby had now that he knew what she was capable of? Was he afraid of her? - She started to turn her face away from him.

Remy winced when he heard how that came out, and saw the hurt look flash over Rogue’s face. He grabbed her face in his hands, and turned her head to look up at him. “I didn’ mean it dat way, /Chére/. I jus’ wanna wait ‘till you talk to de Prof an’ he makes sure you're alright. I don’ wanna shove my memories into you while you’re recoverin’, an’ accidentally make things worse. If you thought you were goin’ crazy wit’ Carol in your head, you’d t'ink you’re downright nuts wit’ me in dere.”

Rogue nodded, a smile coming to her face, a warm feeling in her stomach at the depth of thought he’d put into it. “Good point.” She said softly. “Where are mah gloves then?”

Remy nodded to where he’d tossed them on the floor, and she blanched slightly at the sight of them as she recalled pressing her hands to Carol. “Don’ think you’ll be wearin’ dem anymore. I’ll get you some of my own t’wear. Speakin’ of dat, though, you look a mess, /Chére/.” Remy said, pulling reluctantly away. “Wait here.”

Rogue nodded, the memories still fresh in her mind. Remy came back a minute later to find her still staring blankly at the gloves.

He set down a bowl of warm water on the nightstand, and dipped a washcloth in it. He took one of her hands and began to gently scrub at the red stains still visible there.

As he finished with her hands, she finally looked up at him, her face so full of sadness that he wanted nothing more than to try his damndest to kiss it all away. He rinsed the cloth again in the bowl, and then began to wipe away the blood on her face – dried droplets as well as several smears from where she’d touched her face with her still-bloody gloves.

She smiled gratefully at him, and he felt an almost electric tension between them as he brushed a thumb lightly over her lips. He forced himself not to act – not to lean forward and kiss her like he wanted to. Besides being so soon after she’d found Bobby kissing another girl, his concerns about adding his memories to her while she recovered still stood in his mind.

He pulled his thumb away and finished cleaning up her face. He glanced over her shirt and the knees of her pants, also stained from the previous day. “You need somethin’ to wear, /Chére/,” he said, and she looked down at her clothes as well.

Remy placed the washcloth back into the bowl, and stepped back. “Find y’self somethin’ an’ get changed – I got some stuff in th’dresser dere,” he said, pointing at the dresser along the wall. “I’ll go get breakfast b’fore it gets too cold while y’change.”

When Rogue nodded and moved toward the dresser, he exited the room, closing the door behind him. Rogue pulled several drawers open, and laughed when she found most of them were filled with poker and motorcycle t-shirts. She grabbed one shirt that caught her eye, but couldn’t find much that fit her. She finally settled for a pair of boxer shorts she found in a bottom drawer.

Remy knocked softly on the bedroom door, and then opened it. He saw the bathroom door was closed, and Rogue was not in sight, so he walked into the room and placed the two plates on the bed, and set their glasses on the nightstand.

He turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening, and felt his breath catch in his chest when he saw Rogue. She was wearing a loose long-sleeved shirt that was baggy enough and long enough that it nearly reached down to cover up the boxer shorts she had slipped on. The sight of her wearing one of his shirts was… amazing, he thought to himself, but was nothing compared to seeing her long, bare legs stretching down below it.

He mentally smacked himself upside the head, and forced his gaze from her legs – he’d never seen her expose so much bare skin – and upward to her face. She was blushing, having seen his gaze, and he shot a slight grin at her.

He threw his head back in laughter as his eyes reached her shirt, when he realized which shirt she’d picked out. On the front were the words “I like…” in white lettering, and beneath it was a picture of a Jack of Hearts next to a King of Clubs.

Rogue looked at him as if he’d lost it, and it only made him laugh harder. She put her hands to her hips and glared at him. “What’s so funny?” She demanded.

“Y-your shirt!” He said, in between laughs. “You don’ know what it means?”

She glanced down at it in confusion and looked up at him again. “No,” she said. “Ah thought it just meant Ah like poker hands…..” She said, trailing off uncertainly. Obviously there was something more to it.

Remy slowly calmed his laughter. “/Chére/, remember I tol’ you cards like that wit’ a hearts an’ a club are called ‘off-suit’?” She nodded. “Well, most people just say de name of de pair an’ den de word ‘off’ after it. So read it like dat wit’ de name of de cards.”

Rogue looked down at the shirt, and slowly read it out. “I like… Jack King off.” Rogue clamped a hand over her mouth, and blushed heavily.

“Oh mah God,” she said with a groan.

Remy chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. “It’s alrigh’, Rogue, I won’ tell anyone. Ev’ryone likes jackin’ off, even if dey don’ wanna admit it.”

Rogue buried her face in her hands and ignored him.

Remy finally wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and bent close to whisper into her ear. “I’m jus’ teasin’ you /Chére/.”

Rogue looked up at him, her face still red. “Ah know, Remy. Ah’m jus’ embarrassed.”

Remy squeezed her shoulder. “Ain’ nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” He said, and paused for a moment to look at her with a smirk. “Evry’one’s got needs.” He said with a devilish laugh.

Rogue looked upward in exasperation trying to hide a small smile. “Ah’m not gonna live this down with yah, am Ah?” She said, and swatted at his chest.

Remy hid a wince – she certainly still had Carol’s powers, he thought to himself as the muscles of his chest groaned in protest at the bruising swat. “/Non/, you aren’t, /Chére/. C’mon, why don’ you pick out another shirt for y’self, /hein/?”

Rogue smiled and went back to his dresser, grabbing the other shirt that had caught her attention, before she walked to the bathroom again. She emerged moments later, and walked back to Remy. “This better?” She said, now feigning exasperation.

He looked down at the white cotton shirt and nodded, grinning. It displayed a picture of a credit card and next to that, in black lettering, it said: “Poker book – $20……….. Entry fee – $150…………..Taking all your chips and watching you cry like a little girl – PRICELESS.”

“Much better, Rogue,” he said, gesturing for her to sit down on the bed.

Rogue smiled and picked up one of the plates, biting into a slice of toast. “Thanks for this, Remy,” she said softly between mouthfuls. “Ah really needed this time away from everyone t’get mah head straight.” His teasing her over the shirt had almost completely taken her mind off of everything that had happened the last day, which made the time away even better.

He nodded and looked up at her, forcing himself to stop shooting glances at her legs which she’d folded in front of her ‘Indian-style’ on the bed as she ate. “Glad y’doin’ better, /Chére/. Y’scared me dere for a bit when you couldn’t remember me.”

“Well, Ah’m glad Ah do now,” she said softly, giving him a shy smile.


Mikaela Creed smiled at her husband as he held the door of the limo open for her. Graydon climbed in and sat opposite of her in the seat. Graydon popped open a bottle of wine and poured a glass for each of them, and sat back as the car rumbled into motion, admiring his wife as she sipped from the glass.

Mikaela was the daughter of a wealthy oil baron from Norway who had married an American woman and moved to the States with her, managing his oil and natural gas company from afar. Mikaela had inherited stereotypical ‘Nordic’ features – her pale skin, tall stature, high cheekbones, pale blue eyes, and straight blond hair – from her father. She looked more in her early thirties than the 42 that she was – only a year younger than Graydon himself.

They’d been apart for nearly a week – she’d been campaigning for him in Pennsylvania while he’d been focusing on other states and a more country-wide campaign. According to the most recent polls, she had drummed up a large amount of female and male support for him in the state.

She’d presented her strong personality and her history of support for women’s rights and equality, and had attracted many other women who hoped that she would influence her husband in a large part on those issues. As far as Graydon could tell, the upswing of male support was likely due to her attractiveness more than her support for women’s equality.

Graydon had arrived in Philadelphia last night and he’d treated her to a dinner downtown. Today she would be ‘introducing’ him for a large speech in downtown Philadelphia, and then they would go together to a number of smaller rallies in several smaller towns along the Pennsylvanian countryside.

The state was of major significance to Creed – not only would he have a comfortable lead for the nomination if the current poll trends remained true for the Pennsylvania primaries, he also felt that he may be able to win the state on Election Day, or at the very least give the Democratic candidate a long fight in the state to try to eke out a narrow win while Graydon focused on other states.

Graydon leaned forward in his seat and flipped on the satellite radio, scrolling through stations until he reached CNN, and a man’s voice echoed in the speakers along the doors of the limo.

“– mutant Cure. A large number of anti-mutant groups have come out vocally over the past several days on the issue of the cure. Reverend Matthew Risman of the Church of Humanity – a fundamentalist Christian organization that has experienced a more than quadrupling of its membership in recent years – had this to say:”

“The Church of Humanity, despite the disparaging claims against us, is not ‘racist’, or ‘bigoted’. We simply believe that this sudden outpouring of these mutants is a result of the depraved state our nation is in. It is a result of our nation which is tolerating the murdering millions of innocent unborn babies each year, allowing gays and lesbians to ‘marry’ in many of our states, teaching depraved theories of death to our children in our science classes, and secularizing our nation.”

“The mutant problem is God’s punishment upon our nation for allowing ourselves to fall so low. These mutants are God’s creatures, just like us. And now He has now provided us with this Cure to remove this affliction from them. He has given us a chance to start turning from our sinful ways, a way to overcome this affliction and return our nation to the Christian Principles on which it was founded. And so we must encourage these mutants to take this Cure and begin our climb out of this pit of sin we have fallen into.”

“A more radical group, called Humanity Now, is based in Texas. One of our reporters interviewed Jack Abrams, the vice-president of Humanity Now – here is a sound clip from that interview:”

“Mutants have been proclaiming for years since they revealed themselves that they are no different than the rest of us, and that they should not be treated any differently. And yet this Cure proves that they truly were, and are, different from us, but that that difference can be erased with a simple injection. So we have to ask: why do all these mutants not want to take the Cure so that they can truly not be treated differently. They say one thing to get support and sympathy for themselves, and yet can’t walk their talk when they have the chance.”

“We are bringing forward a petition to our lawmakers here in Texas to create a bill limiting the reproductive rights of these mutants – we currently have one million five hundred and fifty thousand signatures on our petition to the Texas State Legislature, and hope they will bring it to a vote in the coming months. These ‘people’ are allowed to breed more of their kind every day, both within their own movement, and within relations with the rest of us. Their breeding with normal humans seems to be part of their agenda to spread their mutant genes to as many as possible.”

“Each time that a child is born, there is always the remote chance that that child will become a criminal in their future. What happens when a future rapist discovers they have these telepathic powers and can simply erase their actions from their victim’s memory? What happens when a future bank robber discovers they can walk through walls or explode any material or manipulate metal? What happens when that child destined to become a serial killer discovers they have mutant abilities, and you end up with not a dozen people dead, but hundreds or thousands – whole cities – slaughtered with the same effort an ordinary serial killer puts into their murderous work?”

“We don’t need such enormous ticking time-bombs waiting to explode. We’ve already seen what a mutant terrorist like Magneto can do, or the one that attacked the President months ago, and we can’t sit idly by as more are born each day.”

“Mutants that refuse to take this cure should not be allowed to reproduce. The Proposition we ask our lawmakers to pass proposes making genetic testing mandatory of the children of both mutants and humans at young infancy so that the Cure may be administered early to avoid scenarios like the ones I spelled out from occurring and bringing harm to the citizens of this country.”

Graydon exchanged a satisfied glance with his wife. The anti-mutant groups were performing their parts flawlessly – this sort of anti-mutant atmosphere was exactly what he needed to solidify his nomination.

The anchorman continued: “After the break, several of our political analysts from both parties will be here to analyze and debate the statements made by these groups.”

“Before we go to commercial break, in related news…….”


“– related news, last evening, the city of San Francisco was rocked by a large explosion downtown. A hospital that openly welcomed both humans and mutants into its doors for treatment was gutted by an enormous explosion. The explosion weakened the lower floor, and it collapsed, leaving the second and third floors at ground level. Firefighters tried to put out the blaze that started after the explosion, but the upper floors were destroyed by the fires.”

“Thirty-four patients and staff were able to escape the upper stories before the blaze broke out, and search teams are still looking through the rubble for survivors. Current estimates place the amount of people killed at over three-hundred. The children’s ward was located on the ground floor, and police tell us they do not think any in the ward survived.”

“A local news station received a letter from an anti-mutant terrorist group called the ‘Purifiers’, which claimed responsibility for the attack, naming the hospital’s mutant policy as the reason for the bombing. This group has also claimed responsibility for other attacks on mutants and those sympathetic to mutants, across the country over the past four months. We’ll discuss about this, and more, with our analysts after this break.”

Magneto crumpled the metal dish into an unrecognizable lump as the station went to a commercial break. One of the things about being able to manipulate metal was that it was easy to modify a radio with your own dish to pick up such stations, even in the wilderness.

“This is just the beginning,” he said to those gathered around him. “These acts will escalate as people clamor for us to take their ‘Cure’ until finally we are put into camps and forced to be injected.”

Several of those around him nodded. They had been picked up at the church meeting days before – four in particular showed some promise of being leaders. A young woman whose fashion sense left her with an almost androgynous appearance went by the name Arclight, and was able to create enormous shockwaves that could resonate on certain frequencies and shatter objects – she seemed to be content with following, but he believed she could shine in a leadership role.

The second, a young Asian woman who called herself ‘Psylocke’, had telepathic abilities and was able to travel through shadows. The third was a cocky Chinese-American man who called himself ‘Quill’, referring to the razor-sharp quills he could extend along every inch of his body.

The most promising was a young Dominican woman named Callisto who possessed super-speed, and the valuable ability of being able to locate mutants almost as well as Charles’ Cerebro could: something would soon come in handy, Eric thought to himself.

He glanced to Callisto, putting the bombing from his mind. “You have located her?”

She nodded confidently. “She wasn’t difficult to find. They’re moving her in some sort of convoy in this direction. All we need to do is wait for them to show up – they’re moving down this highway,” she said, gesturing toward the highway a dozen yards from where they sat hidden in the forest.

“Shouldn’t be more than five minutes until they’re here. And –” Callisto paused a moment, closing her eyes in concentration. “She’s not the only mutant they’re holding prisoner. There are several more with her – one of them is very strong, nearly a Class 4.”

Eric looked at her with satisfaction. “Very well. Let’s prepare a welcome for them, shall we?” He said with a small smile, striding toward the road.


Remy stopped off briefly at Dan’s pawn shop on their drive back to the mansion to drop the key to his apartment back off with him. Rogue remained in the car, not really dressed for walking in public, and Remy was inside for only a few minutes before returning to the car with a large smile on his face.

“Friend of yours?” Rogue asked him as he turned the key in the ignition, nodding toward Dan who waved to Remy from the door of his shop.

Remy nodded and shot back a quick wave before he glanced over his shoulder and pulled the car out into traffic. “Good friend from back in Louisiana. He’s been keepin’ my apartment up for me while I’ve been out of the city.”

“What made yah decide t’get a place here in New York?” She asked curiously.

Remy shrugged. “My work for de Guild. Lots of stealin’ to do here in New York, an’ lots of shady contacts t’make wit’ other criminal organizations. I got a smaller place down in D.C., too. Didn’ use my reg’lar identities to buy either of dem, so dey should be plenty safe from people findin’ out I ain’ dead.”

Rogue looked over at him, a curious expression on her face. “How did y’get me away from the police last night? Ah remember hearin’ yah talkin’ to them, but Ah didn’ recognize your voice – yah sounded so diff’rent.”

Remy smiled. “You mean like this?” He asked her, without a hint of accent.

Rogue looked at him in amazement. “That’s pretty handy, Ah’ll bet.”

Remy nodded. “Yeah. Can be a bit tough t’not slip into m’normal accent, but if I focus I c’n pull it off.”

He reached into his pocket and slipped out his badge he’d used the previous day, and handed it to her. “An’ dis is what let me get you out.”

Rogue’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“/Oui/. Just had t’flash dis, an’ tell him dat you were one of our agents in our superhuman section dat was havin’ problems wit’ y’powers, an’ he practically tossed you to me.”

“Where’d yah get this?”

He looked slyly at her. “Well y’see, I’m really an undercover S.H.E.I.L.D. operative,” he said.

She looked at him with narrowed eyebrows for a moment and shook her head. “Yeah right, Remy.” She said, laughing.

Remy sighed and pouted at her. “Sounds a lot better den me jus’ sayin’ a friend of mine put together a fake S.H.I.E.L.D badge for me.”

Rogue laughed. “Yeah, it does.”

Remy glanced over his shoulder and punched the gas, swerving around a much slower driver in the lane ahead of him. As he drove, he didn’t push anywhere close to the speeds he’d been driving at on the way in, but he still kept the car going at around ten miles an hour over the limit.


As Remy reached the limits of the city, the congestion reduced, and he no longer had to weave in and out of traffic, merely settling for cruising past other cars in the left-most lane.

He glanced at Rogue as they came close to the mansion – the gates just visible in the distance, and let the car slow. She hadn’t spoken much on the ride back after they left Dan’s pawn shop – she just stared out the window and seemed to be deep in thought.

He reached out and touched one of her hands, and she jumped and looked over at him. “We don’ hafta go back yet if you're not ready, Rogue. I c’n turn de car around right now, an’ we can stay at my apartment as long as y’want.”

Her face cycled through several emotions, and for a moment he thought she was going to say that she wanted him to. Finally she just gave a sad smile. “Thanks, Remy, but Ah need t’do this. Ah want t’least talk ta Logan an’ then talk to the Professor an’ make sure Ah’m alright. But if – if it gets too weird, can Ah take yah up on that?” She asked softly.

Remy nodded, and patted her hand, bringing the car back up to speed. “’Course, Rogue. Y’tell me an’ I’ll grab Sarah an’ de three of us can stay dere.”

Rogue’s posture relaxed slightly at his promise, but tensed once more when they passed through the gates and drove into the garage. Remy nimbly hopped out of the car, and was on her side, helping her out before she’d even had the chance to open the door. He tossed the keys onto the work bench where he’d found them, and walked inside with her.

Rogue moved closer to Remy, the barest inches from brushing his shoulder with hers, and pointedly ignored the number of young students that peered at them curiously as they walked down the hall. Rogue blushed when she remembered what she was wearing, and quickened her pace to the stairs.

On the third floor, she stopped near her bedroom door. “Ah’ll be right out, then let’s go see th’Professor,” she said, looking at Remy.

He nodded, and leaned back casually against the wall outside her room. Rogue opened her door and was about to enter, when she heard someone call her name from down the hall.

Dani and Jubilee rushed over to her, both looking at her with concern. “You’re back!” Jubilee said.

“Are you okay?” Dani asked her.

Rogue nodded, and gave them a smile that looked slightly forced. “Yeah. Let me get some clothes on, an’ we c’n talk then.” She said, stepping backwards into her room, closing the door as she did.

Remy crossed his arms over his chest, and glanced at the two girls.

“Is she alright?” Dani asked him quietly, moving closer to him.

Remy gave a shrug. “Mostly. Prof’s gonna see if dere’s anythin’ hidden, but she seems t’be doin’ okay. Jus’ don’ mention dat /putain/, Icecreep, an’ I t’ink she’ll be alright.”

Rogue was in her room for only a few minutes before she emerged, wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with elbow-length sleeves, and a fresh pair of gloves. She smiled at Dani and Jubilee.

“Ah’m alright, really. Thank yah for bein’ so worried ‘bout me.” She said to them, and then froze, her body stiffening when she looked over their shoulders.

While Remy had been talking to the girls and Rogue had exited the room, Bobby had spotted them and walked up behind them. He pushed past Remy, and stood hesitantly in front of Rogue. “Rogue, I- I’m sor-”

Rogue cut him off. “Get lost, Bobby, Ah don’ wanna even see yah face right now.”

He reached out toward one of her hands. “Please, Rogue, I just want to say-”

“Don’t touch me. Y’can’t ‘handle’ it, remember?” She snarled bitterly. “Jus’ get away from me Bobby,” she said, shoving at his chest to get him away. Bobby’s eyes widened with shock when he was shoved backward nearly ten feet, tripping and falling on his backside.

Rogue grabbed Remy’s hand, and stormed off down the hall. “C’mon, Remy, let’s go see the Professor.”

Remy stumbled over his feet as she yanked him along the hall, and managed an apologetic wave back at Jubilee and Dani as Rogue dragged him along with extraordinary strength.

As she pulled him down the stairs, he regained his balance and was able to catch up with her. “/Chére/, I’m goin’ wit’ you, can you let up on de grip?” He said, a hint of pain in his voice as he looked down to where her hand gripped his wrist tightly, feeling the bones of his wrist grinding together ominously. “Yer gonna break somethin’.”

That snapped her out of her march, and she quickly stopped walking and let go of him, looking at him apologetically. He gingerly rubbed his wrist, eyeing the bruise that was already beginning to form.

Rogue gasped when she saw it, and a hand went to her mouth. “Ah’m so sorry, Remy!”

He shook his head, fighting off a grimace as the blood flowed back into his hand. “Ain’ no problem, Rogue. Jus’ remember y’still got Carol’s powers in you, so you're stronger den you’re used to.”

Rogue nodded, looking abashed. “Ah jus’ couldn’ stand being there with Bobby, an’ listenin’ to him…” She trailed off, a tear sliding down her cheek.

He smiled and took her hand with his own that she’d been gripping earlier. “You don’ need t’explain. Let’s go see de Prof, only dis time a bit slower, alright?”


At the bottom of the stairs, Remy saw Ororo and Sarah at about the same time they saw him. Sarah took off, running toward them, and he braced himself for what was becoming her signature leaping hug, but he was surprised when she instead threw her arms around Rogue’s neck. Rogue easily caught her and lifted her with her new strength.

Sarah pulled her head back and looked at Rogue with concern. “Are you alright, Rogue? Did you get hurt?”

Rogue smiled at her, surprise evident on her face. “Ah’m alright, sweetie. Ah’m not hurt, an’ Ah think Ah’ll be okay.” She leaned her head closer, but was careful not to touch her skin-to-skin. “Remy took care of me.”

Sarah grinned up at her. “He’s good at doin’ that, isn’t he?” She whispered back.

Rogue nodded, and set Sarah back down, and Sarah turned to Remy, looking at him worriedly.

Remy knelt down and pulled her into a hug. “Don’ worry, y’ain’ gonna hurt me, /petite/. I didn’ get shot or anythin’ like dat. Jus’ had a little run in wit’ some garbage cans.”

As Sarah giggled into his shoulder, Ororo placed a hand on Rogue’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay. After we heard what you said to Remy on the phone we were all worried about you.”

Remy stood up, releasing Sarah. “Rogue’s gonna talk wit’ Charles, an’ den why don’ we get some lunch together, /hein/?”

Sarah nodded, and moved back to stand by Ororo, and Remy and Rogue turned toward Xavier’s office.

Xavier called them in as Rogue raised her hand to knock at the door.

“Rogue, it is good to see you back here. Please, come in.” He greeted her with a warm smile.

Rogue moved forward, and sat down on one of the chairs in front of Charles. Remy slowly started to back away and excuse himself, but she grabbed his hand, taking care not to accidentally crush it. “Could you stay, Remy?” Rogue asked, almost shyly. “Ah’d feel better ‘bout goin’ over what happened.”

Remy glanced at Xavier, and then nodded, taking the seat next to her, and squeezed her hand. “Yeah, ‘course I’ll stay for y’/Chére/.”

Charles moved from behind his desk, directing his wheelchair around it until he was directly in front of Rogue. “Why don’t we start with what happened, and then check you out?”

Remy squeezed her hand, and she began, haltingly, to tell the events of the previous evening. As she finished, Xavier nodded. “Let’s check your mind, shall we?”

Rogue took a deep breath, and nodded back, and he placed a hand on her arm. She closed her eyes, and felt the slightest bit of pressure in her mind as he entered.

Xavier found a landscape much changed from their last session. While before her mind had been chaotic, a jumble of other memories, it now looked as if it had been seared clean, with the jumble shoved into a small area.

Each person’s mindscape looked different, and was created partly by that person’s personality, and their unconscious mind. Rogue’s mindscape took on the appearance of a forest, her jumble of memories that had been there represented as a tangled up undergrowth choking out the trees, had covered the ground completely when he’d last visited. Now, it looked as if someone had torn through the undergrowth with a chainsaw and fought it back to a small clearing where the jumble now sat.

The trunks of the large trees looked as if they had had large amounts of bark torn away during the process. As he moved further in, he soon found the image of a young, blond-haired woman leaning against the towering pile of undergrowth, crying softly with her face in her hands.

Xavier paused, and focused, and suddenly Rogue found herself standing next to him. She looked around in shock. “Where am Ah, Professor?” She asked.

“This is your mind, Rogue. I’ve brought your conscious mind into this representation of your inner mind. It seems the memories that used to plague you have been torn apart and placed here in this single location.”

Rogue caught sight of the woman. “That’s Carol!” She said in surprise.

Charles nodded. “Yes. The way you described your absorption, I believe you have taken in enough of her that she may very well be a permanent fixture of your mind. I brought you in here so that you may speak to her, make peace with her, and perhaps get her help in healing the damage here.”

Rogue nodded, and walked hesitantly forward, reaching the small clearing where Carol sat. She slowly sat down next to her, and touched her on the arm. “Carol?” She said softly.

Carol’s head snapped up, and she looked at Rogue in surprise. Her eyes brightened in recognition. “R-Rogue!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around her neck.

“I’m so, so sorry, Rogue. I didn’t realize exactly what I would be doing to you by making you absorb me. I got so confused when I got in here, and I took control of your body.”

She pulled back and looked down. “I was afraid you hated me for doing it, and you’d just leave me in here by myself.”

Rogue’s eyes widened, and she placed a hand on her shoulder. “No, Carol. Ah understand. Ah could feel your thoughts an’ Ah know why you touched me. Ah don’ hate yah for it. An’……. Ah’m glad Ah could help yah.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back against the undergrowth. “Ah’ve – Ah’ve always viewed mah power as a curse, an’ now yah showed me how it can be somethin’ /good/.” She said, looking at Carol with an unreadable expression on her face.

Carol nodded. “I think we actually have a lot in common. I’ve always thought of my powers as something bad, although not for the same reason as you.”

“Yeah, Ah guess we kinda do.” Rogue said with a sad smile. “But Ah think while mah dad might’ve been scared of mah powers, but he never would’ve done the things yah said yours did.”

Carol sighed, and then spoke with a shaky voice. “So…… I’m dead out there?”

Rogue nodded. “Yeah,” she said sadly. “Ah wish Ah could have helped you more…….”

Carol shook her head. “You did. This…. you kept a piece of me alive here in your mind. I’ll miss the chance of serving in the Air Force, but I won’t miss what my dad put me through, how he treated me.”

Charles cleared his throat softly, and Rogue and Carol looked up at him – Carol seeing him for the first time, and Rogue remembering now the other reason he’d brought her in.

“Who’s that?” Carol asked, looking almost frightened, his psychic presence on Rogue’s mindscape was so imposing to her.

“He’s one of mah professors. He’s a mutant like us, an’ he’s th’one that helped me get here t’talk to yah. Don’ worry, he won’t hurt yah.”

“Hello, Carol.” Xavier said with a friendly smile. “I was wondering if we might have your help in healing Rogue’s mind. When she absorbed so much of you, it ripped through her mind here, damaging it somewhat.”

“It seems by absorbing you, aside from the damage, you’ve ripped out most of her absorbed memories and placed them here where you are sitting, and if it means what I think, you may have made a bigger step in helping her to control her abilities than I’ve ever been able to.”

Rogue felt her breath catch for a moment at his words. “Really?”

Xavier nodded. “If you two can find a way to work together and heal this,” he said, touching a nearby damaged tree trunk, “and keep the undergrowth – the other psyches and memories – from taking over again, I think it may be what you need to jump-start your control. Now, it won’t be instantaneous or anything, but I think it will be a large step.”

“The trees represent your own memories, Rogue, and your own consciousness and your powers and control over your body. Before, all those choking vines and bushes behind you, which represent those you’ve absorbed, were strangling the trees. I’d considered blasting away at it like this, but I had feared I would damage your mind too much, and you would be unable to recover.”

“And now, it seems it has done it for you, and you now have a strong mind within your own that could help you keep it under control,” he said, looking over to Carol.

Rogue looked hesitantly to Carol. “Will you…”

Carol reached out and squeezed Rogue’s shoulder. “I’ll help.” She looked at Rogue hesitantly. “I was wondering if you could do something for me, too?”

Rogue nodded, a smile of relief on her face. “Sure.”

“This weekend, could you – could you go to Boston and talk to my mom, let her know I loved her and don’t blame her for…. everything that happened?”

Rogue’s eyes softened, and she glanced at Xavier, and he gave a small nod. “Of course, Carol. Ah’ll go for yah. An’ – if yah want Ah’ll let yah talk to her y’self, if the Professor thinks that won’t mess me up any more.”

Xavier shook his head. “So long as you willingly let her control your body for a short time, I don’t believe it will harm either of you.”

Carol smiled gratefully at Rogue. “Alright then. How do we start?” She asked, looking around at the vast forest.

Xavier smiled. “Well, given that her mind has created this sort of landscape, I think it would be good to stick with the analogy it has created for itself. How would you heal trees with this sort of damage?”

Rogue bit her lip. “Ah’d probably cover up th’stripped areas with cloth, an’ make sure they get a lot of fertilizer an’ water. That’s what mah Gran used t’do when animals tore th’bark off of her trees.”

Xavier nodded. “This is your mind, Rogue, all you need to do is think about what you need and it should appear for you.”

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, several rolls of cloth and buckets of fertilizer lay on the ground in front of them, along with a long hose that disappeared from sight behind a distant tree.

“Well….. let’s get started, Ah guess….” Rogue said and hesitantly picked up one of the cloths and unrolled it. Carol grabbed one end and Rogue grabbed the other, and they began to wind it around one of the tree trunks, securing it in place with a knot. They dug up some of the soil around the roots and added fertilizer to it, and left the hose on to water it as they moved on to the next tree.

They’d repeated their work on over a dozen trees, when Rogue wiped sweat from her forehead, and leaned against the tree, looking bleakly at the enormous forest in front of them. It looked endless, trees disappearing into the distance.

“This is a lot harder than Ah thought it’d be,” she said, looking over to Carol.

“And there’s so much more to do,” Carol groaned wearily.

Charles appeared at their side, and smiled at the two of them. “You didn’t think this would be simple, did you?” He asked with humor evident in his voice. “The human mind is an immense thing. Such widespread damage caused first by other psyches and then by the scouring of those psyches will take quite some time to heal and recover from.”

He closed his eyes, and Rogue and Carol felt something tickle in the backs of their minds. “But, you have made progress, and if you two continue sessions like this every day, I believe you will soon be on the way to full healing, Rogue.”

“I’ve just set up a… let’s call it a psychic bridge between your conscious mind and this mindscape, Rogue, so that you will not require me to help you enter this mindscape – you can come here at any time. Now, we have been in here for nearly an hour, and I believe Mister LeBeau has begun to worry about us,” he said, glancing to Rogue.

Rogue’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Ah didn’t realize we’d been here so long….”

She turned to Carol. “Ah better get goin’. Ah – maybe we can try this again tonight?”

Carol smiled. “Sure.”

Rogue hesitantly pulled her into a brief hug. “Thanks, Carol.”

The mindscape began to fade when Rogue pulled back, as Xavier began to pull them out of her mind and back into the real world.

Rogue shuddered, and blinked rapidly when she felt herself return. She smiled to herself when she felt Remy still grasping her hand and as everything came into focus to her eyes, she looked over at him.

“You okay, /Chére/?” He asked, worry in his voice.

Rogue smiled widely, and nodded. “Yeah, Remy. Ah think Ah am….” She said and for the first time, she realized, she felt like it was true.

A/N: Well, there it is, hope you enjoyed. Tried to put a bit more detail into the various anti-mutant groups – the spokespersons for each are characters in the comics, although Risman is the leader of the Purifiers in the comics (after Stryker dies), not the Church of Humanity, and Abrams is also a Purifier in the comics (Humanity Now is a new organization in the series I believe, and I have only read the summaries of the recent comics with them causing riots and such).

Next chapter, not sure when it will get out – hopefully I’ll keep up the chapter a week I’ve been doing the past four chapters. We’ll still be seeing more Rogue/Carol interaction, and Rogue trying to come to grasp with her new powers. Probably see Xavier attending the debates on the weekend and trying to get a glimpse into Creed’s mind. Depending how long the chapter gets, either in this next one or the one after, we will see the first big step into Rogue/Remy officially starting a relationship. Either way next chap should have a lot of Romy.

See you guys next time!
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