Chapter Text
BITTER METALLIC TASTE was all she could feel on her tongue.
Brightness filled the room, brief glimpses of big examination lamps came into her view as her eyelids fluttered heavily at the very irritating source of light. She blinked once, then twice before trying to block the source from blinding her for good but failed, feeling the chains on her wrists.
For the love of god, again?
A groan came out of her lips, her head was hurting bad and her body ached like she was beaten repeatedly for days. Not to mention, being tied to an examination chair didn’t help at all. Closing her eyes in mild pain, she tried to remember how the hell she ended up in here in the first place.
She found none.
Like no memory of the last few days, at all.
“I see you’re awake.”
Her eyes snapped at the direction of the voice. A blonde haired man with glasses and dressed in a doctor’s uniform was staring at her in deep interest. She blinked at the man, feeling the pressure of the leather belts on her wrists. Only if she could set herself free of them. Taking the time to look around the room which looked like a fucked up version of an operating room, a part of her began to tremble in panic.
It was fucked up because she was clearly having under the counter type of surgery, which made her sick to her stomach. Who the hell were these people and more importantly, what did they want from her? A cough escaped from her lips, her throat feeling dry. How long had she been not drinking anything?
“Here,” the doctor walked up to her side, holding a glass of water against her dry lips. She gave him a long, hard glare but gulped down the sip of water anyway. She needed to get herself together if she wanted to get the hell out of this place.
She blinked rapidly, her green eyes roaming around the place hastily. Her stare, however, was back on the doctor and the files he was holding dearly against his chest. Were they going to experiment on her?
The doctor gave her a firm smile, one that lacked sympathy. It was obvious that she had no idea where she was with the empty look in her face. “Ever heard of Three Mile Island?”
Oh, shit.
She was at the government facility in fucking Pennsylvania.
He hummed in satisfaction after catching the acknowledgement written in her pretty green eyes. Nodding partly to himself, he opened the folder in his hand and began reading somethings that made her anxious. More like, the lack of information that she had made her anxious, but still.
“Fascinating,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in bewilderment. “They call you Rogue, right?”
Bright green eyes glared at him in annoyance.
He cleared his throat. “Or we can call you anything else,” he offered, flipping a few more pages. “Rare ability you have there, one that the authorities are very intrigued with.”
She was on the edge of breaking down, the panic in her chest was beginning to increase, causing an ache to form mildly. As if she wasn’t through enough in her miserable life, now she was going through a government experiment in a godforsaken island –away from Logan, away from the mansion, away from everyone she knew.
All alone. Just herself against these sick people.
“First we would need your DNA of course to begin with,” he began blabbing about the procedure, his cold distant eyes pointing out the IV serum in her arm as she shut her eyes close. “Which is already taken. Blood samples are the easy thing, really. Cheek swabs are already done for liquid examples, as well as a few hair strand samples.”
Breathe in, breathe out.
She began hyperventilating anxiously, they got her everything.
“I’m only telling you this just so you can cooperate,” he informed, closing the file in his hand and gesturing towards the closed metal door. “This is a highly secured facility, one you won’t be able to free yourself from that easily. My best advice? Do everything they ask you without being a pain in the ass, because they deal rather harshly with problems here. Take it from a source you can trust.”
Trust? Yeah, right.
Her eyes captured his in a strong gaze, trying to determine whether he was a bad guy or not. But seeing as he was working in here with these damn files in his hands, he probably was. Not that it mattered anymore, she would do anything to get away from this place –even if it meant using her powers on this doctor and knocking him out along the way.
“Let’s get you to your room, shall we?” he nodded his head again, pressing a red button. After a short moment, two men walked into the room and grabbed each side of the operation bed she was tied to. She gulped and narrowed her eyes at them, they were in some military uniform which was pretty much unfamiliar to her.
The room that he was talking about nearly had her snort, it was a cell along with many others. The corridor that led to her room was empty, but each side had a dozen cells with other possible mutants who were doomed enough to be in this place.
Once they were in front of an empty one, which said 391 above the metal cage, one of the men carefully put something on her neck and she heard the click sound.
A fucking power inhibitor.
And before she even knew it, she was grabbed harshly, only to be thrown on the floor in her new room.
“Easy,” the doctor snapped at the man who handled her roughly, earning a glare from the said soldier, who then closed her cell door shut with another click. “She’s way too precious for your unnecessary actions,” he glared back and it wasn’t long before they all disappeared in the corridor.
The square cell had concrete walls and a single bed. There was nothing useful to help her, which only led her to a more depressed state.
She leaned back against the concrete wall behind, pulling her knees to her chest in attempt to calm herself down. Her mind was racing with a lot of questions and worry, she couldn’t even hear the Logan’s thoughts anymore which was pretty rare.
But she knew this place, thanks to him.
It was the very same place that terrorized her dreams. It was the fucking place that caused multiple traumas and created a beast in return.
Breathe in, breathe out.
She had been working on her powers with Emma Frost back at the mansion. Even though she hadn’t succeed yet, this was a useful technique that the blonde taught her for calming herself, since it was thought that anger basically caused the lack of control in many mutants.
Many, if not all.
What would Logan do? Yeah, she could use this mindset. That could be beneficial.
Okay, he would definitely observe. She could do that, she just needed to look for some loopholes. She needed to stay calm and controlled, and she needed to get her shit together if she wanted an out.
Her gloved hands reached up and touched the cold metal around her neck. Shit, this wasn’t going to help much. Without her powers, she only had some combat abilities which definitely weren’t a match for soldiers who were possibly trained for years? She could still defend herself, though. It just wasn’t enough to destroy this place and run.
Maybe she could take the doctor in hostage, use his body as a shield until she reached some exit. But she needed an exit first and she didn’t know how many people she was dealing with here.
Not to mention, she was in an island for god’s sake, which meant she couldn’t just swim her way to the shore.
Fuck, she was really screwed.
Her mind raced with more conspiracy theories as a heavy fatigue hit her, her eyelids fighting to stay open as her chin went downwards a few times, finally she let the darkness take her over and she was drifted off to blackness.
HER TIME IN HERE SO FAR was like hell.
“Come on, sunshine, time to wake up.”
She groaned, moving her head towards the source of the voice. Narrowing her eyes as she fixed her gaze upon the doctor and her two minions, cute. If every other security was like these two idiots, she would have a higher chance of running away from this place.
Her head hurt from the position she had slept, knees tucked between her arms and her back against the wall. She hadn’t even moved to bed, she was probably knocked out from exhaustion.
“Is she deaf?” one of the minions asked the doctor, blinking at her.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Or mute?” the other one asked this time, carefully observing her face.
Holy shit, they were serious.
The doctor did her a favor and sighed at the two, shaking his head disapprovingly while muttering an ‘unbelievable’ and ‘why did they sign you up for this’ in a short breath. “Help her,” he told them, gesturing for them to open the cell gate.
Using a card to unlock the device which was attached to the metal gate, the soldier did as he was told. She noted the key card, one of those would be necessary.
The other one grabbed her by the shoulder and nudged her to keep walking. She glared at the man, but began walking with them while taking the time to look around the other cells in the corridor. There were a dozen cells on each side of the hall and each cell looked exactly like hers, only a few were occupied and while the occupied ones were randomly selected, the ones next to hers looked empty.
Just fucking great.
Once she was back in the operation room, something stirred in her gut and made her feeling like shit. The bed was readied for her, another serum bag was put next to the bed and some tools were laid on the table next to it. Panic rose in her throat, she turned around instinctively and bumped into the chest of one of the minions.
“Nah, you’re not goin’ back, princess.”
He turned her over and held her body flushed against his chest, she hated the sudden closeness and tried to get away from his grip but failed, his hold was firm and strong against her struggles. The doctor eyed him slowly, but let it pass as he looked like he was doing his job.
“Get her here,” he ordered, not meeting her eyes.
The whole procedure lasted for about an hour, they drew another blood sample from her, put another bag of serum thing and lastly, they injected her something that burned like hell.
Little did she knew, it was going to be a normal routine for her for the next two months.
SHE WAS THROWN on the floor again.
This time, she actually growled at the minion 1 in return.
She had been naming the duo minion 1 and minion 2, because they were all she had seen for the last week. And they were kind of inseparable, they took her to the operation room or to the bathroom as a pair. She figured that they were paired or signed as a duo. They were both douchebags, for the record, so she wouldn’t be surprised if they were in some way related or something.
A click sound snapped her back to reality.
“You know, sunshine,” Minion 1 snickered behind the metal bars. “If you weren’t genetically a freak, I’d consider takin’ you somewhere private down the hall.”
“Fuck you.”
That stunned the duo, before they shared a grin. “Oh, so she speaks,” the other said, nodding towards her. “The doc will be pleased to know.”
“I knew something was up with her,” Minion 1 shrugged his shoulders. “It took her a week to speak only two fucking words. These muties are an abomination, I’m tellin’ you.”
“You’re a fool if you think she has to speak a word for some good time,” the other minion gave her a look. “That body would do.”
Another glare in their direction, yet they weren’t put off by her, by any means. With a damn collar around her neck like a lost puppy, she could be having problems with these two.
IT WASN’T LATER THAT NIGHT that the duo came back to ‘fetch her’ as they had described.
“Hurry up that ass of yours,” Minion 1 clapped his hands, as if her slow movements irritated him. “You would hate if the hot water ran out, right?”
She shot a dry look at the minions, what on earth were they talking about now?
Rolling his blue eyes at the petite figure, the other one spoke. “You need to shower,” he said, wrinkling his nose disapprovingly.
“Now?” she snorted, her arms crossed over her chest. It was fucking midnight, who the hell showered at night? She was getting more annoyed with their way of messing with her, it just seemed like a ridiculous excuse for them to see her naked without drawing much attention.
So, she wasn't going to be sorry for being too suspicious.
“Sorry for not running a warm bath for you, princess,” Minion 1 mocked, a smirk playing on his thin lips. “Doctor’s orders, examination first, shower later.”
She stood still, not moving an inch.
“We weren’t asking,” the other narrowed his eyes. “Move your ass up.”
And unfortunately, she did.
Then the whole procedure began once again, drawing blood, injecting serum and finally the injection and fucking burning sensation. Whichever substance was in it, it literally burned her skin for an about an hour.
Eventually, she was ordered to be taken to the showers.
Minion 1 and Minion 2 were staring at her from the corner and waiting impatiently, holding some grey clothing in their hands.
“Well?” she rolled her eyes at the two.
“What?”
“Oh, I don’t know, turn around maybe?” she snorted, these imbeciles.
With an annoyed sigh, the duo actually turned around and began talking to each other. She was honestly surprised to see them do as they were told, but didn’t pay any more attention as she busied herself with hot water, which she had to admit, felt like heaven.
She stripped herself off of her dirty clothes and took a step towards the running water, getting lost in the familiar soothing sensation and casually peeking an eye out just to see if the minions were checking her out secretly.
And she wasn’t surprised that they were indeed peeping.
HER CELL WAS RATHER COLD at nights.
She wasn’t entirely freezing, but it was chilly and that made her hug the sheets dearly sometimes. That, and the fact that it was the only soft thing in her room.
She would sometimes dream of Logan’s memories about this place. She would just try to see the building structure plan, try to make out some ways to exit this hell hole. And sometimes she would see halls, corridors and some secret rooms –all of which, he had been experimented in before.
She didn’t mind the loneliness, she had always been a loner –so it wasn’t something new. But not being able to find a way out of this place began irritating her. Whichever psychotic ass was behind this masterpiece of a building definitely had thought things through from the cells to the examination rooms.
No fucking way out.
None, zero, nada.
Then the sunshine would touch her thick eyelashes, make them stir and eventually wake her up. One would definitely lose their sense of time and place here, seeing as it was the same routine every fucking day with the same familiar faces.
But this morning, something strange happened.
She stopped pacing around and leaned against the metal door, observing the scene.
The guards brought another mutant to the opposite cell, nudging him to into the cold block with unnecessary force. The man, however, barely moved an inch and glared at the man dangerously. “I would treat me better if I were you, homme.”
“With that around your neck, mutie,” the guard snickered. “I don't really think so."
His response to that statement was a murderous glare, which made him take a step back. But of course, he knew he had the real power around here. Looking around for any unwanted audience and making sure there were none, the guard grabbed his taser gun and shoved it towards the stranger's torso. The mutant hissed in pain, but after a moment of shock, he somehow managed to look unharmed and slightly unbothered as if nothing had happened, which infuriated the man so much that he actually let out a frustrated brief cry like a child.
She had to admit that it was a good way to piss off someone. Masochism at its best, but revenge none the less.
Eventually, the guard narrowed his eyes and shook his head displeasingly, removing the taser gun and closing the cell door behind him. Casting a final warning glance at the mutant, he cracked his neck and nodded towards the other guards. Once he disappeared with his other minions, the stranger leaned against the metal frames and let out a grunt.
A rusty piece of metal was hung at the top of the door.
392.
His cell number.
“You okay there?” she found herself asking, her head against the frames, mirroring his posture.
His eyes lit up towards her, taking in her figure slowly. She was wearing a grey uniform, much like the rest of them, the stripes of the uniform was let loose, making it look like she was wearing baggy pants with a white tee. Her hair was a whole another sight, though, with her white stripes and long auburn waves. He couldn’t decide if she was born with it or it was a fashion statement –but she was definitely a sight to drink in.
And was he staring? Yes, but he couldn’t care less.
His time on this hell of an island had changed his demeanor completely. He wasn’t as charming as he used to be, he wasn’t even easygoing anymore. He was bitter, he was annoyed quite often and the worst of all, he was getting even more pessimistic each day –which was a complete horror for his profession. A thief was taught to be a survivor, he was raised to be able to break in and break out from any place.
But knowing that he had failed would do that to a man.
“Would it matter if I was?” he eyed her carefully, observing as a frown appeared on her face.
“I was just being nice,” she furrowed her brows, arms crossed over her chest.
“Being nice won’t do you any good in here, petite.”
Okay, she really didn’t need any bitchiness from a stranger today. With a sigh, she rolled her eyes and turned around to sit on the bed. “It’s just small talk. You don’t need to be an ass about it, stranger.”
He watched her walk towards her bed and lie down, her arms behind her head. The red small lights on her power inhibitor around her neck caught his attention, she was wearing the same shit much like every other mutant here and that actually frustrated him. They were being treated like rats in a lab, if only there were a way to power off those collars, then they would have some advantage.
He had tried numerous times before, escaping from this shithole was almost impossible. Almost. He was sure that there was a way out, but he was fucking exhausted from all the experimenting and shit. His focus and dedication was beginning to wear out naturally.
This wing of the facility was familiar to him, since he had been here before for a short period of time. Omega level mutants or something like that were being held captive in this wing. He had seen, witnessed and heard the things that happened here. His accidental hostage situation here was rather comical, actually. He was mistaken for being an omega class mutant, then turned out to be an alpha, then the lab results got mixed in the facility somehow and he found himself here once again.
These bastards knew nothing of what had actually happened to him that changed his whole mutation level or more like what he had actually done.
And since the truth would never unfold, was he going to shift between the floors and change cells?
“How long have you been here?” he asked, his thumb carelessly brushing his bottom lip as his eyes fixated on her.
Her response, however, was a snort. “Now you wanna talk?”
He shrugged. “You wanted small talk, no?”
Her green eyes were narrowed at his direction, taking in his appearance. He was slightly tall, muscular but not bulky like Logan was, with broad shoulders. He was wearing the same damn uniform, so it didn’t take a genius to assume that he was going through the same hell as she was. His auburn hair was reaching down his shoulders in a messy bun, a couple of strands framing his face. His eyes, however, were a different story. They were flaming red irises on deep black onyxes, staring back at her with such intensity that she felt her cheeks getting warmer.
Yeah, well, it was safe to say that he was attractive in general.
But it wasn’t like she was going to drool over him while her top priority was getting the hell out of here.
“Okay,” she got up from the bed and walked back into her previous position. “Let’s talk, stranger,” she muttered, leaning next to the metal frames. “Unfortunately I’ve lost my sense of time here, but I can’t imagine it’s been more than a week.”
A newbie.
He let out a soft sigh, fighting the urge to tell her that her life was fucked up from now on –since his was some time ago. Still, he couldn’t bear to tell her that. It was hope that kept him going, he had to believe in himself, his mind and his abilities to escape from this shithole. “You’re new,” he nodded his head. “Did they put you in the field yet?”
“What’s that?”
Another sigh.
Maybe this small talk wasn’t that much of a bright idea as he hoped it would be. “They put you in a safe room and work on your mutation.”
Okay, that was intriguing. “But why?”
“They want to test the limit of your powers and what use you can be for them,” he explained, his voice was cold and distant. “This side of the facility isn’t all that glitters and shit like the upper floors, petite. They want something from you and they will try any way possible to get it, that’s it.”
“Upper floors?” Confusion was worn all over her pretty face, she crunched her nose and shot him a look. “I’ve only seen here.”
Interesting. “They brought you directly into here?”
She nodded, her green eyes going up and down on his figure. “Why does that matter?”
It was clear that she was a strong mutant, he figured that as soon as their worlds collided in this side of the facility. But these people had routines, they were military which meant routines were not to be broken. So, why break a rule and move her here?
“What did they do to you?”
“Aside from blood samples, some injections and IV serums?” she asked, her arms hugging herself in a protective way. “Nothing yet.”
He observed her figure slowly. She was easily discouraged or it was easy for her to feel vulnerable with the way she was holding herself. She also looked younger than him, maybe in her early twenties. It wasn’t typical for the military to capture young mutants as her, they usually went after well-known ones like himself, the Wolverine or the White Queen. But this one seemed to attract some unwanted attention from the wrong sources.
He watched as her eyes lingered on him for a while longer, before she let out a sigh and walked back to her single bed, probably feeling depressed or overwhelmed by so many questions.
And the worst part was that she hadn’t seen anything yet.
Alas, he had.
IT WASN’T LATE THAT MORNING when an annoying voice interrupted her sleep.
“Wakey, wakey, princess.”
Rogue groaned loudly, slamming the pillow on her ear to block the annoying sound.
“Come on, don’t make us drag you out of that bed.”
She opened an eye and peeked at the figure, sighing when she came across the minions. Stretching her arms above her head, she stood up and walked towards the metal door. “What’s it now? Are you guys dumb enough to lose all my blood samples and just come back for more?”
Minion 1 snickered and shot a look at his lookalike. “She’s making jokes now. Glad to know you’re finally feeling at home, sweetheart.”
She shot him a dry look.
Minion 2 opened the door with a slide of his card and nudged her by the shoulder to keep going. She rolled her eyes. What a gentleman.
She cast a quick glance at the cell in front of her, the stranger whom she had met earlier was leaning against the wall and watching the scene quietly. She mimicked his staring before another nudge forced her out, initially she kept walking.
After some time of walking, she had found herself in a white room with sponges on it. It even reminded her of Danger Room back at the mansion, but this one seemed cold and apathetic with metal wires and everything.
Minions left her in the room and closed the doors shut with the same card. She noted that in her mind again, the magic card was supposedly opening and closing all the doors –which was stupid as hell, but as soon as it worked in her favor, she didn’t mind the logic behind it.
“Subject 002, your actual name, please.”
What in the actual hell was that?
The source of the voice was a speaker box.
“You don’t know the name of the person you’ve kidnapped? How interesting.”
If she was going down, she wasn’t going to do that easy for them. Aside from having no actual weapons, let alone her mutation, she held on to the only thing that kept her humane.
Sassiness, it is.
“Refusing to cooperate has serious disadvantages for you, subject. I strongly advise you to behave and do as you’re told.”
Rogue narrowed her eyes at the big speaker box. They were talking to her through a box and she didn’t even have her powers, which meant they were really cautious about it. “If you’re going to call me 002, why would you need my name?” she raised a brow, arms crossed over her chest.
Fuck you, speaker box.
“Your age?”
“Again, I don’t see why that is relevant,” she sighed, looking around the room.
“Where are you from, Subject 002?”
She shook her head, rolling her eyes at the unnecessary questions. Did they abduct someone they barely knew, or not knew anything about her at all? Wait a second, could she be mistaken for someone else maybe? “Hey, do you even know me-“
A shock wave took her breath away, her body began shaking uncontrollably and she fell to the floor as her hands instinctively touched the source of the unimaginable pain, trying to break free from it.
The collar.
Those bastards literally tasered her with a seriously concerning voltage like those electronic training collars for dogs which were equally awful.
“You’ve been warned, subject,” the voice began apathetically. “Please comply and make this process easy for all of us. This is a basic test for your genetic abilities, we are testing your capabilities in terms of your personal limits.”
She kept lying on the floor in a fetal position, eyes closed and heavily breathing.
“Your genetic abilities consist of energy absorption by physical contact and if they are mutants such as yourself, you absorb their mutation as well. Informed by your government files, we already know that these effects are temporary.”
So, did the government keep files for every mutant or just mutants ‘lucky’ enough to catch the eye of the military? If so, every mutant at the mansion was a direct target since they were occasionally in the news, saving people and the earth. Aside from a proper ‘thank you’, they were put in a list and being experimented on. How cute was that.
“We want to know if we can make these effects last longer or if possible, permanent.”
Fucking hell, she was apparently going to be staying here longer than she had anticipated. “Why would you wanna know that?” she groaned, hands on the floor, lifting herself up.
“US government specializes in superhuman weapons. We believe that you would be a perfect candidate for the project, given your abilities in absorbing other mutants’ powers.”
Not a day went by where she cursed herself for being born with such mutation.
“The tests may not be pleasant, but we assure you that they are beneficial. We have made great process with other subjects, enhanced their capabilities and in short term, upgraded their power system.”
Rogue groaned inwardly, she already knew that she wasn’t the first mutant that they were experimenting on, but knowing others were suffering and being tested like some lab rat was annoying the hell out of her.
“We believe that emotions trigger your abilities. Certain emotions are the key factors, such as anger, fear or sadness. By making you feel these, we are hoping to increase the limit of your abilities,” the voice explained, again, in an apathetic demeanor. “We’re going to begin with the most common one, fear.”
Fear, something that she had occasionally felt for other people, but not quite for herself.
She heard a click sound around her neck, which probably meant that they turned off the power inhibitor.
Then the room began changing completely, her surroundings turned into a darker shade. She found herself in a dark alley where not a single soul passed by. Looking around herself, she realized a bulky figure approaching her from behind. But she was a second late to notice that, because the next thing she knew was being thrown to the nearest wall in a swift move.
Jesus, although it was a simulation, it hurt the same like her training sessions in the Danger Room.
Without giving any time to check on her body’s wellbeing, she quickly got on her feet and backed herself against the wall, arms in front of her as a shield to peek an eye at her attacker.
Sabretooth.
HER BODY ACHED and she was certain that it was going to be bruised severely.
She was curling up on her bed, one hand absentmindedly patting her arm to soothe herself. It was going to be over, she was going to find a way out eventually and most certainly, she wasn’t going to die here all alone in a cold cell after all the possible test that these sick people were going to put her through.
“How did it go?”
She opened her eyes and turned around, still in the same position, to look at the source of the voice. The stranger was talking to her from his own cell, this time however, he was sitting on his bed with one leg swinging loosely and the other tucked towards his body.
“What do you think?” she grunted, closing her eyes momentarily.
“Like shit,” he nodded his head. “I would have informed you about the process, but speaking from experience, panic makes things worse.”
“Thanks a lot, you jackass,” she snapped, sitting up in a swift motion without thinking. “A quick heads up would’ve been nice.”
He shrugged, leaning against the bottom of the bed frame and observing her figure. She briefly winced when she tried to sit up, which meant she was probably bruising. He promised himself that he wasn’t going to care about anyone else if he was going to escape from this hell, because caring meant a baggage –and baggage would make you slower, more cautious and predictable.
He didn’t need that.
But something about the way she was trying to act like she was okay stirred something inside him and made him connect with more of his humane side. He had begun observing little things about her, such as her familiar accent, and he wasn’t happy about that either.
And he had found himself caring for someone else’s wellbeing, which was a problem.
But he needed to be a loner to get out of here.
“Don’t give them any more information than necessary,” he offered a single advice anyway. Even if he wasn’t going to help her when he found a way out, she could still use an advice or two to stay alive in here.
“I’m not saying anything,” she scrunched her nose. “They don’t know anything about me, either.”
“They don’t?” he quirked an eyebrow. How did she stay under the radar with no background information before ending up here? She was too young to be in a random underground mutant organization, let alone a globally illegal one as the government labeled as ‘terrorist mutant groups’ like the Brotherhood of Mutants.
“Nope.”
Could she be a member of Magneto's little helpers?
Not that he minded, but he wouldn't forget such a pretty face.
“What’s your name, petite?”
"Well, if you dont know," she gave him a small smile, one that was actually genuine. “I can't help you, sugar.”
Smart.
A smirk played on his lips, arms crossed over his chest. "Attagirl."
“Your words, stranger, not mine.”
IT’S BEEN TWO WEEKS or that’s what she assumed anyway.
A whole another week of blood drawing, more serums and injections, minions occasionally peeping when she showered and counterfeit version of danger room sessions.
Brutal.
And she had made a habit of annoying the shit out of the stranger who was her cell mate or more like cell neighbors. Boredom did that to people and jokes on him, she had nothing to do to keep her sane around here, which resulted in her trying to make small talk with him whenever she was bored.
But this time, she wasn’t feeling bored or mundane. It was just like any other time back at the mansion, when she would just jolt awake and scream bloody murder after a heavy session with Logan’s nightmares.
She screamed, panted heavily and tried to catch her breath in the same order which was a normal routine for her.
“Hey.”
She didn’t respond, her hand found the valley of her breasts, trying to feel her heart instinctively.
“You okay?”
Again, he was met with silence as if she didn’t even acknowledge that he was talking to her.
“Nightmare?” he began, walking towards the metal frames and leaning against the wall for support. “I can’t help but wonder what can be worse than being kept here, chére.”
Her green eyes snapped back at him, as if she was now waking up, taking in and studying her surroundings slowly. “Yeah, sorry for waking you up,” she mumbled, her hands brushing her temple.
“I was awake,” he said firmly, arms crossed over his chest. He looked like he was deprived of sleep for days, she wondered how he had managed to function like the rest with so little sleep. His hair was messy, a couple of strands framing his sharp structures. The zipper on the uniform was open all the way through his torso, showing the white cotton tee and sleeves were folded up to his elbows.
He looked like the inmate of the year on the cover of some famous prison magazines, if there was one. Maybe GQ could make an edition for that and put him on the cover, it would sell billions.
Shaking off the thoughts that would make her blush, she looked around the cell. The lamps at the hall was dim, barely enlightening the place. It was pure strategy, of course. When the lights go out, you sleep. Easy as that.
Only it wasn't as easy when you were a captive.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, sitting up and eyeing him slowly. She could easily catch his eyes in the dark, they were like rubies.
He stared at her back, even though he wasn’t fond of her small talks for various reasons regarding his escaping plans, he was kind of used to hearing her voice. “Not really.”
“Nightmares?”
“Usually,” he replied honestly, walking back towards his bed before lying down with his arms tucked behind his head.
“Hmm,” she muttered, her index tapping on her bottom lip. “Now I wonder what can be worse for a swamp rat other than being held here.”
Amused, he quirked an eyebrow and turned his head towards her direction. “Swamp rat?” he asked, watching as she bit her lip and shrugged nonchalantly.
“Your accent was familiar,” she explained sheepishly. “I figured it was near somewhere like Louisiana with all the French words you keep mumbling.”
So he was right, she was a friendly face from the south. “Busted,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You from the other side of the river, petite?”
She studied him for a moment before nodding slowly, her chin up proudly. “Born and raised.”
“Born and raised,” he repeated slowly, both analyzing her words and also echoing it to make it sound like he was also born and raised in his hometown. “Been a while since I saw a familiar soul.”
“Why,” she offered him a small grin. “You ain’t home loving type, stranger?”
If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was genuinely offended by that. “No,” he said firmly, letting out a soft sigh. “It’s just complicated.”
She considered his words for a moment, he was kind of opening up to her even if it was just small words. But still, she was grateful for a little dialogue out of all the boredom. “Well, I love my hometown, too. But sometimes things happen and,” she paused, sighing out loud. “Nevermind, shit just happens.”
“Oui,” he nodded his head, agreeing with the statement before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep for the first time in the past few days. “Shit happens.”
HER LAST EXPERIENCE in the so called ‘field’ was a comedy this time.
She even thought that fear would be the worst amongst the other emotions. But it was before she had come across sadness, which was pure tragedy.
They didn’t entirely know her, well, they didn’t know her at all and that’s why it wasn’t exactly working. But when they used the only information that they knew of her, which was her being at the mansion, things escalated quickly.
They were working on sadness, so it wasn’t a total shock that they created a simulation in which everyone she loved had died. Apparently, some big explosion happened and she was the only alive mutant left at the mansion. Thus, she had found herself walking down the aisle of dead bodies. She was really feeling bad, her stomach twisted irritably at the exaggerated damages made on the bodies. Those bastards had really overdone their creative abilities with these scars and chopped off body limbs.
She felt a single tear playing on the side of her eye.
That is until she had seen Logan’s body.
A pause.
She nudged the simulation corpse with her foot and looked at the sky, as if the black speaker box was there. “I mean, come on, don’t you know he’s like god?” she rolled her eyes, sadness slowly drifting away at the ridiculousness. “He won’t die because of a stupid bomb.”
Her surroundings began glitching and the simulation starting to wear off.
Fucking amateurs.
THE STRANGER was truly a strange person.
Sometimes the guards refused to stand before his cell which made her question his abilities. Like why on earth would they be cautious about him, especially since he was in that damn collar? She realized that they had not yet shared the information of their mutations, not that she had expected him to anyway, but she began wondering about it.
Her conclusion about him being strange was purely based on the fact that he had two personas. Maybe he was bipolar, she didn’t know him enough to what to make out of it. But he was almost nice when talking to her, then he was an ass when around company.
Like now.
Rogue knew that it was impossible to keep a cheerful spirit around this assholes, but the stranger was overly cautious, nearly murderous around military forces. He was pushed towards his cell like always, his eyes snapped back at them in a look in which the saying went, if the looks could kill, they would most certainly be dead.
He was rather snappy today.
She waited until the dozen of minions walked away, leaving the two alone in this side of the corridor. Leaning against the frame, she eyed him slowly. “What’s got you in a bad mood?”
She was met with silence, what a shocker.
Normally, she wouldn’t call herself a very talkative person. She would rarely initiate small talk with random people back at the mansion, she always replied when necessary and most importantly, she tried to avoid people.
Because, well, she didn’t need any faux sympathy regarding her mutation, or god forbid, the uncontrollable fear they often gave her, again, regarding her mutation. It was just exhausting.
But she had found herself wanting to initiate small talk with him, which was odd, so she tried again. “Unpleasant experience at the field?”
He was lying on the bed, arms tucked behind his head almost like a signature position for him. But after a moment of silence, his head turned slightly towards her. “Something like that.”
She walked back to hers and sat in a yoga position, legs bent towards each other comfortably. “What did they do now? They tried showing me the dead bodies of my friends last time, to make me sad or something, which was a major failure.”
He looked concerned, but a hint of amusement was written on his face. “You must’ve been a great friend, petite.”
“Oh, shut up,” she rolled her eyes. “It's not like that. I almost cried, you swamp rat. It just lost its reality when a friend of mine, who was supposed to be kind of immortal by the way, was dead like the rest. They really don’t think everything through when they’re creating these visions for the tests.”
“You almost cried,” he noted, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Doesn't seem like you give a shit about them to me.”
She groaned and shook her head. He was back to being an ass again, maybe she could ask him directly if he was diagnosed by a professional before, not that he seemed like the type to go to therapy and also, not that she was caring enough to handle his mental state. It was her own mental state around him that she was concerned about.
“You have major mood swings,” she blurted it out loud, blinking at his blank façade.
“And you have a white streak in your hair.”
She blinked, again. “And that is relevant, how?”
He shrugged casually. “I thought we were just saying things that were obvious.”
“Oh, dear lord,” she sighed out loud, before getting cut off by an unwelcomed source. “You’re impossible! Like how can you-“
“The doc asked for your presence.”
Minions.
“Then the doc should move his ass here and ask for himself,” she deadpanned, already irritated by the mood switch.
One of the minions sighed. “You know how this goes, princess, don’t make it harder for either of us,” he shook his head slowly. “I’m not in the mood to play house with you today.”
“Lucky me,” she snorted and walked up to the metal door hesitantly. She knew they were just doing their duties, but somebody else was also snappy today. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde and all of their phones or laptops were messed up.
Not that the stranger had any.
Sighing, she did as she was told and stepped out of her cell once the door was open.
As usual, she cast a glance at the cell before hers and found the stranger in the very same position as always. It was a thing that they did, without an actual purpose anyway, in which she would look at him and he would stare back and they would feel like somebody was watching over them like a guardian angel.
Only if guardian angels were undiagnosed maniacs and wore grey prison uniforms.
But it wasn't like she was actually counting on him for saving her ass, she knew from experience that her best friend in life was herself and herself only. It was up to her to get the hell out of here and she was going to achieve that one way or another.
The doctor’s office was not that far from the cells, it took a couple of minutes for them to reach the room. He was oddly in a cheerful mood, which should have rang alerts in her mind, but didn’t. She shrugged off the feeling and sat down in the nearest seat, watching him as he proudly showed off an injection. “You know what this is, Rogue?” he asked, using her mutant alias instead of that ridiculous lab rat name.
“No, but congrats?”
He looked bewildered, his voice was frantic. “It took me months to create a serum that will not only give you what we want, but also not cause any important damages to your DNA as far as we’re concerned.”
What the fuck?
Had she been getting injected poison? Minions told her it was intense multivitamin serum once and naïve as she was, she had believed them. “What have you been giving me, you sick bastard?” her eyes widened, her body began shaking with anger.
“No, no, no,” he muttered irritably, not minding her rage by any means. “Those were just boosting your health, to help you get ready for this. But this will moderate your neural activity in your brain, making it work like any SSRI -only when you get injected this chemical, you will block the absorption of some hormones by nerve cells. My innovation not only regulates the good and the bad thoughts you have in your little mutant brain, but also helps you get rid of the unwanted ones, thus make you feel more in control.”
Facing her with a giant smile, he dared to take step forward. “In other words, you will be able to control your mutation with an enhanced limit, you will reach your full potential.”
“But, but why?” she asked after a moment of silence. Why the hell would these people want to help her or help people like her? The government hated every living mutant and if they could, they would most definitely cause a massacre amongst them.
Unless…
“The government wants you to use your spectacular abilities in their favor.”
Bingo.
“You want me to be a mercenary?” she mumbled, biting her inner lip anxiously. It was more like a rhetorical question, one that he didn’t need to answer at all. Of course they expected her to work for them, they wouldn’t have helped her otherwise.
“I wouldn’t exactly say it like that,” he shook his head. “More like showing your gratitude.”
Gratitude?
“You keep me here against my will,” she blinked blankly, as if she was missing a huge piece of a puzzle. “You could’ve just created an ad on Craigslist and do these fucked up tests on people who are actually willing.”
“Our database only contains useful abilities such as yourself. We can’t provide this service for just anyone. Your mutation is one of a kind, have you ever dreamed of using others’ powers permanently?”
No.
“You want me to do that?”
“That and many more, Rogue. You’re like the dark web, you know? The more I look into your genetic system, the more intrigued I am,” he explained, sounding almost too excited for her to assume that he might have been slightly fascinated with her. “Basically, you’re like a black hole. You absorb life force and you absorb powers. But where does that ever end? Can you possibly take limitless powers? Can you absorb more than one person at once?” he added, shaking his head hysterically. “Do you see the beauty of your genetics here? You are priceless.”
Speaking of genetics, she definitely had a different mindset about her powers.
More like a curse.
He stared at her for a while too long, a finger tapping on his glasses. She knew something was wrong from the feeling in her guts. “Well, I don’t want to overwhelm you with such rambling,” he gave her a faux smile before someone else behind her put a gas mask on her face, causing her vision to slowly black out. “Now, let’s get you injected with this and wait for the weapon that we all have been waiting for.”
SHE WOKE UP nearly two hours later.
Her head was hurting and she couldn’t seem to get it up. Whatever narcotics they gave her to put her to sleep was a strong one.
“You’re awake.”
She blinked at the familiar voice, however she was able to turn her head towards the source slower than she had anticipated. “Yeah.”
“What did they do to you, chére?”
“An injection.”
“They do that to you often, not once you were like this,” he slowly observed. “What’s the difference now?”
Shit, it wasn’t just her head, her whole body was hurt. Did the minions beat her up after they were done with the doc? If she wasn’t a hundred percent sure that they were cowards, she would have sworn that she was beaten the hell up. But she knew from earlier that she was considered as valuable here, so they wouldn't lay a finger on her.
Speaking of which, even her fingertips hurt.
“Why do you care?” she muttered to him, sounding like she was half asleep and trying to turn on her side to face him.
It was actually a good question, one that he had no answer to.
“What did they do?”
He looked concerned, so she let it pass, his persistence on her health could mean lots of things besides just caring. “A new one, to make me reach my potential and shit," she informed him after taking a deep breath, closing her eyes.
“They’re manipulating your genetics now? Incroyable,” he muttered angrily, followed by a bunch of French words that she couldn’t understand aside from ‘unbelievable’ and ‘sick bastards’ or something.
“Actually I’m not that mad this time,” she nearly whispered, eyes still closed. He thought maybe she was lucid dreaming, because no way in hell would anyone give consent to these fuckers. But she didn't seem to be sleeping, even when her eyes were closed, but she was more like coming off from the high of something.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because, I can’t control my mutation,” she said slowly with a yawn. “And people get hurt.”
Shit.
That was a tough one, it was something that he could relate to. A series of unwanted memories rushed to his visional part of the brain, he dismissed them quickly with a brief hiss. He definitely didn’t need to remember all the people who got hurt because of him.
Because of his lack of control.
So much for wanting to be a lone wolf and avoiding any connection to her.
With a shake of his head, he cleared his throat softly. “Listen to me, you don’t have to do this just because people sometimes get hurt. You can always learn to control your powers with the right technique.”
She let out a bitter laugh, her mind beginning to clear up. “Do tell me, mighty stranger, how do I manage that? Because I’ve tried everything and nothing ever works for me.”
Just as he was about to protest, she let out a soft cough and wiped her eyes sleepily. “Besides, I don’t have a choice here, do I?” she added, shaking her head slowly.
She was right. He wasn’t going to encourage her to be rebellious here, especially after everything he had been through.
She may have not yet seen the black cells in the bottom floors, but he had. They were named after the pitch blackness of the whole floor, the guards walked with hand lamps. Mutants who refused to obey the facility rules ended up in there, in a small cell which was fit for a single person in a sitting position.
People who had claustrophobia would definitely have a heart attack there.
And he had been there, twice, for an unannounced time of being.
In other words, he wouldn’t want her to end up there. Hell, he wouldn’t want anyone to end up there. It was depressing as hell, not to mention, it was so easy to slip off from the reality and mix everything into each other. It was a total mindfuck, even worse than Chinese Torture Chambers.
“Desolé,” he offered, not entirely sure why he was sorry but he was anyway. He couldn’t say anything else, they were truly in a fucked up position and he had no idea how to get out of here. But depressing her wasn’t going to solve any of his problems, so he decided to make random small talk like she usually preferred. “I dealt with the same thing when I was younger, people got hurt and it felt like shit. Took me a long time to be able fully control my powers.”
She peeked at him behind sleepy eyes. “Sorry that you had to go through that.”
“Shit happens,” he offered her a bitter smile, reminding her the familiar conversation they previously had. “It was a long time ago, but I still don’t… or rather can’t go back and face it.”
So much for oversharing then.
She remembered what he had told her about his home, he said that it was complicated. So that’s why he wasn’t there anymore and she couldn’t help but relate to that. It was exactly the main reason she had escaped from Meridian and actually decided to be a runaway.
Biting down on her bottom lip, she stared at him for a while, deciding whether she should share or not. “I absorb life force with a single touch,” she said in all honesty. “If they’re mutants, I absorb their powers too. Basically I’m like a modern vampire.”
Silence. What could anyone say to that?
“I ran from home after I had almost killed my boyfriend with a simple kiss,” she sighed, closing her eyes once she remembered the lingering memory. “And some other accidents happened after that, they all end with people falling into a coma.”
“No surprise they want you,” he said, emphasizing on her ending up at the government facility. In the eyes of military, she was a powerful weapon. If he were to think like them, he would make her absorb other mutants and use their mutation as she liked.
She was like all in one packages.
In other words, she was dangerous.
But looking at her current position, he studied the way she was curled up in fetal position, eyes closed and ready to drift off to sleep. She looked anything but dangerous with her bright emerald eyes, pink pouty lips and a fucking desirable body.
No, scratch that. He wasn’t thinking straight, it was just the lack of sexual activity he had to endure during his unpleasant stay here. Not that she wasn’t a sight for the eyes, quite the opposite, he would’ve sworn that people drooled over her in the street. She was truly a southern belle with long toned legs and waist-length auburn hair that he would tie around his fist and pull towards his body-
No, he wasn't going to do that.
He was going solo.
If he cared, he would be forced to slow down and eventually fail.
A soft snoring sound caught his attention and he faced her sleeping form. She looked almost angelic with the way her lips parted and her hair laid back on the pillow, fingers squeezing a handful of covers as her eyelashes stirred slightly, soon followed by a sleepy moan.
Shit.
At least one of them was going to get some sleep tonight.
SHE DIDN’T THINK it was possible to sleep more than twelve hours.
Not possible for her anyway, but here she was, stretching her arms above her head with a swift movement after a sleeping marathone that had lasted like a year. Her body was improving slightly, the body aches were mild compared to yesterday, so it was a progress.
Maybe it was like a defense system of her body to fight off the medication they gave her.
Either way, she was starting to feel a little better.
The minions came to check on her a few times in the past two hours, she vaguely remembered their annoying faces and stupid questions.
But she remembered talking to the stranger about her past, which she wasn’t sure was a good idea or not. Oversharing was like a plague here, she figured as much, if the government knew lots about you, they would hunt you down. If they hunt you down, they would make tests simply designed for you. So, she wasn’t sure if it was a brilliant move but still, it felt good to be able to talk to someone without a condescending look or a pitiful demeanor.
He had listened.
And she felt related to his past.
And that’s why a frown appeared on her face when she saw that his cell was empty. They wouldn’t normally take him to the field before her, but maybe today was an exception.
A guard was walking down in the hall, she quickly rose up to her feet and cleared her throat. “Hey! Do you know where the, um, man in the opposite cell is?” she asked, her forehead leaned against the metal frame.
“You mean Gambit?” he frowned. “He’s with the doc.”
Gambit.
It actually suited him.
“Are they giving him the injection, too?”
“How the hell do I know?” he snapped, shaking his head and walking away with mumbling somethings like ‘stupid mutants’ or ‘no good muties.’
Asshole.
After what felt like an eternity, purely because of boredom and not worry of him, another minion came by and ‘fetched her’ in his own words. She rolled her eyes and kept walking with him.
It wasn’t long before she was back at the experiment room again. This time, however, Gambit was facing the doctor from his seat and his wrists were cuffed to the metal arms of the chair. Interesting, they never did that with her.
His eyes snapped open at her direction, raising a brow at her first then back at the idiots. “What are you trying to do now?” he asked the doctor with an exasperated sigh.
“We wanted to test something,” the doctor began, hands clasped in front of him. “Could’ve used another mutant, but our surveillance cameras show that the two of you make quite the chitchat. So why not use a familiar face and put you in a greater pressure than a total stranger, right?”
“What are you saying?” she frowned, arms crossed over her chest.
“Absorb him.”
Her eyes widened in instant horror.
No fucking way.
“We want to know if the serum works,” he ignored her comment, fixing his glasses. “If you don’t do it willingly, I’ll have them tie you down and make you touch him if I have to.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would,” he shook his head. “You see, this is my life’s hard work. I have to know how much of a succession it is.”
She looked at Gambit, who was staring at the arguing duo with a dull expression. She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking. Could he be plotting a way out or was he just suicidal?
“Do it,” he told her, wrists still in the cuffs.
“But I could hurt you,” she frowned, her breathing got heavier as well as the panic in her chest. “You could die, I don’t want-“
“I'm exhausted, chére, so do your little voodoo and get this over with.”
She blinked at him and swallowed anxiously. The doctor nodded his head in an approving manner and pressed a button to turn off her collar. A click sound made sure it was off. Her hand was trembling when she slowly brushed his cheek. His crimson eyes was looking at her with such intensity that she thought she was going to faint, literally, or maybe it was the panic attack, she didn’t know.
The only thought she was having at the moment was not killing him, so she might have managed that just out of luck. But the interesting part was that he was staring back at her with the same intensity as before, as if her mutation had no effect on him.
“Is this a normal routine or…” he muttered, subconsciously leaning into her palm.
“No,” she whispered, amazed by the feel of his skin on hers. “It’s anything but normal.”
No blue veins popping up in the neck, no gasping for air, no struggling to stand still.
And most importantly, no coma.
It definitely wasn’t normal.
The doctor was writing down the whole experience on his notepad cautiously, observing the two with a great focus. He knew from his research that this was not supposed to be like this, well that’s what they said on the files anyway.
“It works?” she looked bewildered, her palm still on his cheek, not glancing up at the doctor even though she was addresing him.
“Apparently, but note that your mutation does not work for whichever reason yet. I checked if your collar was off, and indeed it was, so your mutation should be on now. It’s good that you did not harm him, but it’s unfortunate that you can’t absorb his powers.”
She frowned, blinking blankly before removing her hand completely from the stranger's face. “So you basically removed my mutant identity.”
“That is impossible,” the doctor argued, displeased. “The medicine in that serum does not work like that.”
Gambit watched the whole scenario from his seat with silence. He didn’t figure out the details regarding her mutation yet, but obviously things were not happening as they should, so he chose to stay quiet about it. Maybe she was right, the doc accidentally wiped off her whole mutant genes with the Cure vol 2.
“Come on, doc,” one of the guards cut in hastily. “We don’t have all day. Just take more blood samples or shit, my shift is far from over.”
“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Andrew,” he fired back. “I’m trying to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” the minion, apparently Andrew, groaned loudly. “So you made another version of the Cure, it’s still a big deal for any medicine company. You’d make millions of dollars with that, you lucky bastard.”
The doctor took off his glasses and rubbed his temples. “You don’t understand. It can’t just happen.”
Andrew snorted. “But it did, doc, so get over it,” he waved a hand dismissively and took a step forward to grab her by the arm, in hopes of returning her back to her cell. As soon as his fingers found her skin, his breath was cut off and the familiar blue veins popped up in his neck.
Just like the old times.
Rogue let out a shriek and grabbed his fist which was squeezing her arm, trying to break it free from her skin, but it wasn’t working with the way his hold was stuck and his body was solid. And she did the next best thing she could, she took a deep breath and focused on not killing him.
And magically, it worked.
His body went limp, falling backwards on the floor as she stood there in silence. Millions of thoughts running through her mind at the moment, she didn’t know if they belonged to her or him, but they were loud and messy and she tried to keep it down as possible as she could, since no one knew about her absorbing memories and personas as well.
She didn't want any more unnecessary praising for something that was so terrible.
“He isn’t dead, is he?” she asked after a long session of silently watching the body.
“No,” the doctor answered, his cheerful spirit coming back on. “You know what this means, right?”
Her blank stare was met with an overly excited one.
He offered her a smirk and pressed on a button to activate her collar again. “You’re still a mutant. My medicine was not another shitty version of the Cure,” he explained, gesturing other soldiers in the room to grab the body from the floor. “And you have some control over your mutation now.”
Her glare was not a forced one, she was simply too stunned to speak, so she just let her eyes do all the work. Slowly, her stare was drifted over to the stranger’s direction. Gambit was watching her with the same patience, not even saying a word but studying every little detail surrounding them.
Their gaze locked in an intense stare, simply because neither of them knew what to say. They had a lot to ask, but very few answers.
Instead, the doctor filled in the blanks for them. “I’ve only grown more curious about your mutation after tonight,” he told her with smile, it wasn’t sweet or nice, she had found it rather creepy. “It works after the medication, but it doesn’t work on him,” he sighed, tapping his chin with his index. “So he’s either immune to your mutation or it has to do something with the same serum I’ve given him earlier today.”
The duo exchanged glances again.
So he was also injected that thing.
“Put them in the same cell,” he ordered the guards. “I want someone on the surveillance camera duty for them only. Even if they touch by accident, let me know.”
THIS WHOLE FACILITY was a joke.
Not only did they put her through medical shit, but now they were going to watch the possibility of her torturing someone by accident or not.
No wonder he wasn’t talking to her.
“I’m sorry,” she began, anxiously rubbing her arm up and down in small movements. “You don’t have to stay near me or anything, I’ll stay on this side of the room,” she added hastily, eyes roaming around her cell. They apparently decided to put another bed in her cell, since now there were two people in it.
His crimson eyes found hers, noting the way she was overly sensitive and overly protective about her mutation. “No,” he told her simply, not offering any more words at all.
She bit her lip. “No?”
He shook his head, arms crossed in front of his chest as he was leaning against the wall.
“Why? You don’t know if it’s just luck, due to that injection or you’re magically immune to my powers,” she argued, eyes furrowed in confusion. “Better be safe than sorry.”
“What’s the fun in living if you’re gonna do it too cautiously, petite?”
“Don’t joke about it,” she frowned. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he cast her a dry look. “Rules have never been my thing. I’m just a lucky homme of god, apparently. I’m not dead yet and you don’t have to hide yourself like you’ve the plague.”
She opened her mouth to comment about that last remark, but he cut her off with a glare.
“And no, nothing about your mutation is like the plague, chére. You just lack control and that’s it,” he shrugged. “Well, more like used to lack control. All past tense. You obviously have some control over it now.”
Rogue sighed and rubbed her temples before sitting down on her bed. It was just too overwhelming, but even after all the shit that she had gone through, she was still glad to know that Andrew guy was okay. She didn’t dare to add one more name to her regret list.
“Yeah, well, you’re oddly okay with that,” she mumbled, her fingers were fidgety. “Thanks, Gambit, I really appreciate it.”
He raised a brow, a smirk forming on his lips. “Been asking me around, petite? I’m flattered.”
If there was a moment in which he ever thought she was dangerous, he had forgotten it by the look she was giving him now. He watched as her cheeks turned into a faint pink, her long eyelashes stirred rapidly and she was struggling to find the right words.
And he barely even said a thing.
“I just, you were, I thought…” she frowned and brushed her long hair back, taking a deep breath to calm her mind. “I was worried that you may be gone and I’d have no one to talk to.”
A half truth.
He could live with that.
“Don’t need to worry about me, chére,” he said, making his way towards his bed which was facing hers from the side. “Takes more than a few injections to kill me,” he also offered a small piece of personal information, which might have come off as arrogant but it was true. He had an enhanced immune system, of which he was grateful as hell and while that didn’t mean that he was immortal, it meant he could endure more shit than most people.
She nodded at him absentmindedly, before offering him a small but a genuine smile and getting herself under the sheets to get some sleep. He mirrored her gesture, however, instead of lying down in a fetal position like her, his body was laid backwards with an arm tucked behind his head.
“And Gambit?” she muttered.
His gaze turned towards her direction.
“I think we’re on a first name basis,” she let out a sleepy sigh, before drifting off to sleep. “Just call me Rogue.”