driftfleet | .02 [ Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This ]

Entry tags:

.02 [ Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This ]

Who: Rogue
Broadcast: nope
Action: Planet with optional Vanquish options
When: Planetside, from beginning to end.

A Is for Augmentation
[It’s the middle of the night, and all good children are supposed to be in bed… so then what is Rogue doing, walking around the boarding house with her gloves off and her eyes closed?

Maybe it’s the same thing that has her shrieking awake a few night’s later, one single, panicked cry that she quickly stifles as awareness returns? Unfortunately, this won’t be her last night with nightmares… and unfortunately, sometimes the sleepwalking and the nightmares may come at once…]

B is for Bounty
[...hunting, that is. Rogue wasn’t planning on making a habit of this, it wasn’t really her thing, but if she found a wanted poster for a guy who did something that pissed her off enough, she would go and make it her business to hunt that particular individual down.

Of course, she didn’t really have any idea what she was doing. It just seemed like a thing to try. How do you find a needle in a haystack, and one poorly washed thug really was almost interchangeable. Walking up to someone and asking, ‘Hey, have you seen this guy?’ was probably not the best way of going about it.

In fact, that’s possibly the kind of thing that could get a gal more attention than she was looking for...]

C is for Chisel (and hammer, and stone)
[Rogue wasn’t exactly sure what that quadraped was, but… she has decided to call it a ‘zeorse’ and she is happy to see it. Do not doubt that she will be making friends in the stables and riding off on adventures…

And one of those adventures takes place after a week or so on the planet, and the quiet confirmation that both Tony and Zessica had… gone, Rogue borrows a chisel and hammer from a local She rides out into the wild and finds a cluster of hard red rock, and in the lee of the wind carves three names there: Tony. Zessica. Anja.

She’ll be more withdrawn and quiet than normal when she returns those tools.]

D is for Drunk and Disorderly
[Sometime after this conversation, Rogue will be… upset.

She will be upset enough to go blindly into the night with a powerful need to punch things, though with Kurt there she didn’t feel it was… the best idea, perhaps, to go and start a bar fight even though it would be so. easy.

So she just goes to a bar. And she orders a drink. And if there is a fight she doesn’t have to start but gets to finish, so be it.

So. Be. It.]

E? E is for Everything Else.

[On the Vanquish? Shopping and hoping to make something out of this material? Staring dramatically into the sunset?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[His words cut. She gasps, one leg sliding back as if to balance from receiving a blow.

He is, he is acting as a friend. This, Rogue knows, down to her marrow is what friends do. And how can he, how can he when she -- when Kurt --

Rogue isn't sure exactly what she's feeling - too many emotions to name and two of them too strong to know where they point - anger and guilt. And he - he came here and offered her loyalty, and it was a tracheotomy in the middle of choking to death on those two emotions that were too strong not to name. Her lower lip trembled for a moment before she pressed her mouth into a firm line and squared her shoulders, met his gaze head on with all the storm in her eyes.]

You might change your mind, if ya knew who I am. What I've done.

[She doesn't just mean her skin, her murderous actions - there was a danger to befriending people from worlds like hers. They had never been able to understand, to accept why she had let herself love Loki. Rogue is almost sure that if she said the words to Jim right now, it would break this loyalty right off. It tore at her, that it would be offered under false pretenses. She couldn't let it continue, she couldn't let herself rely upon a lie - couldn't let him do it either, if her choices were those that would repel him if he knew them.

She turned on her heel to continue to walk away. Here was his chance to take her warning and go.]

[ Her words don't cut. They find an old scar and place pressure on it, making him aware of the ache. There's children who go to war and think killing and destruction are all they become good for, after that. He's grateful for Sam, who's there to prove otherwise. And Sam would be gentle; Sam would know what to say to ease the hurt in her eyes and keep her safe through what's tearing into her. ]

[ He's not Sam. ]

If y'wanna count our sins, darlin', we'll be here a long time.

[ The words are a whipcrack through the air, and the steady footsteps behind her tell Rogue there's no way he's going unless she physically pushes him back. ]

['Our.' And he persisted. She heard him behind her now, knew that he was letting her hear him - he was quiet, she knew. She had to make a choice.

She hurt.

She's done this alone and she's done it with someone and... with someone is better.

Rogue pauses, but doesn't look back.]

If you're comin' along, you can come along. You don't have to follow.

[She's not going to try to shake him. If he leaves once he knows, she'll understand his choice... but if he wants to come, she's not going to try to make him reject this part of himself. If he wants to come, she doesn't really want the company - she just wants to scream - but she knows that will do no good. She knows better.

With someone is better.

She hurts.]

[ Doesn't she see what's in front of her, something cold and hungry? How can he not follow? He's a shield now, it's his job — he was always a keeper and let what he was supposed to protect slip through his fingers and fall away. ]

[ Never again. ]

I'm coming along.

[ No one knows winter like soldiers. Jim walks side by side with her. ]

[She waits until she can feel him by her side, but she doesn't look at him. It isn't exactly fair, and though she can bring herself to care, she can't bring herself to act on it.

Lack of action makes an emotion useless.

She isn't sure how long they walk before she realizes that with his presence beside her, Rogue no longer has the desire to go into a saloon and wait for a fight. The heat of her anger has begun to flicker, leaving only the ache and the heaviness in her stomach. She keeps walking a little while after that, past the tentative borders of the main streets of the small town.

The stars in the sky are so clear, it looks as though someone should be proclaiming peace on Earth.

They aren't even on Earth.]

...I'm sure ya had better plans than this for the night.

[Thank you.]

[ She's making herself small again, not quite as sharply as he's seen her do but the withdrawal pulls: the black hole at the centre drags everything into it. He's seen it in the mirror, too. ]

Don't.

[ This is not a debt. ]

I ain't gonna ask you to talk. I just won't go until this is done.

[ And not even after that. His loyalty and affection have always been uncompromising, and if anyone here has earned it, she has. ]

['Don't,' he said. As if he could see her getting ready to end it, to push him away.

She couldn't forget, she'd told him -- open doors work both ways.

Rogue swallowed. Whispered.]

It ain't gonna be done, Jim. There ain't nothin'--

[She bit her lip. '...last thing we have in common.']

I screwed up big time, an' I can't go back an' fix it. Don't even know if I'd be able ta do right even if I had the chance.

[To her utter disgust -- regret means nothing if it isn't backed up by action -- a tear escapes, and she swipes at it with a gloved hand.

She wishes she could be that good. Wishes she hadn't hurt Kurt like this. But she isn't that good. She just isn't.]

[ That, and he knows they're both people who keep count of what others do for them. It's the hardest thing to accept help; Sam fought and Natasha stung for that right. A right, not a privilege. Between friends. ]

[ Impulsively he reaches out with his (left) hand to wipe her tear, and his fingers catch on her hand, the metal unnaturally cold. He freezes. He's not supposed to touch her — he didn't even think this through... and he doesn't let go. ]

[When his hand came in contact with her gloved one, for a moment, Rogue froze. The simple contact, even between layers meant... when was the last time someone had touched her? When Loki had left?

When was the last time contact hadn't simply been associated with pain?

A moment of selfishness was all she allowed herself before Rogue stopped, stepped back, stumbled away from him to the side, her expression one of horror. The words tumbled out, no right or rhyme to them.]

Oh my Gawd, Jim -- don't! I could hurt you so bad. The metal should be okay, but -- don't!

[For a moment, her horrified concern for his safety drives the thought of everything else from her head. That moment is shortly followed up with guilt -- she should have warned him, told him the truth, long before now. Long, long before now.]

[ He drops his hand the moment she speaks, not like someone burnt but someone doing the burning, and puts physical distance between them though every instinct screams against it. He doesn't care about being hurt. The worst pain and the worst sin have already been done, anything else can be pushed through. ]

What's wrong? Tell me.

[ Let him know, and let him try to understand. ]

[She doesn't even stop to censor herself, to use the precise words she always uses when she has to tell someone. They trip out of her tongue still, just trying to keep him to stay back where he'll be safe.]

It's my skin -- my mutation. I absorb people through my skin. An' I can't shut it off.

[And it's around here that her alarm fades and the awareness of what she's saying registers and Rogue's posture changes to that self-same sense of containment... it's not quite as precise as before, something about the pain she's been walking through, her alarm at what had almost happened leaving her vulnerable, fragile at the edges.

She realizes that 'absorb people' is perhaps not entirely the best picture, so she tries again for a more exact delivery.]

I mean -- people's lifeforce. Memories. Abilities. Powers. I touch you, it all flows into me. [She glances to the side.] An' they stay inside of me.

[She shuts her eyes for a moment and then looks back at him.] That's why -- the gloves an' the distance. That's why.

[She knows he's wondered. Might as well spell it out as best she can.]

Edited 2015-10-05 03:06 (UTC)

[ Oh. ]

[ Oh. ]

[ The pieces click into place. The fear that chokes her: that she'll kill someone. Jim's jaw sets, stubborn, and he approaches, holding out his left hand for her, palm up. ]

You can touch this. My whole left side should be okay for you.

[ Part of him wants not to care and touch her directly, but it would hurt her to think she's hurting him, even a little. So he doesn't. ]

[She eyed him.

Why? Why was he doing this? Why did people -- do -- this? Did they think it was just that easy? 'You can touch this' and that suddenly made it okay? Or -- just --

Trying to reach, trying to be kind, offering what she knew had to be a part of him he was uncomfortable with for her to touch - how could it be otherwise? He had a metal arm.

Her heart ached. She didn't deserve this.

She whispers:] Maybe. Absorbed someone through metal once, but... he had turned his whole body into metal, so, maybe that was different.

[Her eyes are wide as she looks at him, looks at the offer of his hand and doesn't turn away, doesn't turn him away, but doesn't move forward either. If Jim has ever approached a wounded animal with the intention of helping it, he may note certain similarities to the way Rogue is holding herself right now.]

[ Not okay, entirely, because nothing that went that deep and kept hurting that much would ever go away. This is what he has and what he can give of himself: his friend deserves it. There've been so many other moments when the person at the other end looked so small and helpless, and he's been on the receiving end. It never feels like it can do anything, and it always feels better to accept. ]

[ Softly, ] Try?

[Rogue tilted her head, askance.]

You don't want me ta... I mean, you've got super strength, so you'd be fine, but... [more things she hasn't explained fully, has been too emotional to go chronologically] I'd be gettin' your memories too.

[ He has no secrets; the ones he guards are Natasha's. Jim frowns. ]

Do they — have an order, or all at once? I have an organised mind. I could think hard about somethin'... that might be good for you to have.

[Rogue shook her head.]

If it's a light touch, all I'll get is what's on the surface. Unless I go diggin' later. An' I won't. I don't do that. Not unless I have to.

[If it was related to a mission or to someone's life or... just so she could finally have some quiet.]

But if it's a light touch, there's not usually as much there ta even... dig into.

[She hasn't explained this much about her powers in a long time. She hoped it made sense.]

[ He nods, and more insistently, holds out his left hand for her. ]

Just to see if it's safe for you.

[ He's thinking of a good memory: one of warmth and family and strength in Hell. The Commandos, around a campfire, complaining about Frenchie's cooking. That won't hurt to give away. ]

[Safe for her.

Didn't he get it? It was about what was safe for him.

But no. He wouldn't see that at all. Jim was a guardian. And somehow, he saw that this hurt her too... he wanted to make something safe for her.

Rogue shook her head, ever so slightly. What would it be like to be this intrinsically good? She wished she knew.

If she was that good, maybe she wouldn't know what it was like to offer to make something safe for someone and be rejected. If she was that good, maybe she would have rejected his offer.

She didn't.] Okay.

[Slowly, Rogue removed one glove and took a half step forward. Meeting his gaze, she very simply put one bare index finger onto his metal one.

Her shoulders sagged in relief when nothing happened. Her finger stayed just so.]

[ He gets it. He doesn't care. Nothing can hurt worse than what already exists. Because she's good, and she's brave, and one of the strongest people he knows, she meets him halfway. ]

[ Jim's silent for a few seconds, and then gently, he curls his metal hand over her bare one, waiting for her to realise that her touch warms it up. ]

[Rogue was very, very still as she allowed Jim to... hold her hand. Her bare hand.

Who would have thought, on a night like this, that anyone would want to touch her? She didn't deserve this. But. There were gifts that were too precious to refuse, both for her sake (and oh, how she'd needed this. she almost felt she had a heart again.) and for the sake of the giver.

Rogue let out a long, shaky breath. She didn't pull away, looking at their hands and the wonder that came with simple touch, simple trust. As if trust and touch were ever simple.]

...your hand's cold. [A glance up at him, her eyes wide and open, vulnerable. She's let him in this far, she wasn't going to hold back further - the kind of intimacy that only comes with a close question, asked and answered, as she had.]

Do ya feel it? [Her touch. The cold. Anything?]

[ Sometimes they are. She should know: she's the one who reached out to him, but Jim doesn't mind reminding her when it's important. He wants to do more than this. If it wouldn't hurt her or compromised other people's secrets he'd have reached in and hugged her without fear or regard for his being. ]

[ They have this. It has to be enough. Rogue doesn't need him to be her shield. ]

I feel pressure. [ so he doesn't crush something by accident ] Nothing else.

[ The heat of a body, the soft texture of human skin, that's long gone. ]

[Rogue nods, her gaze going to his hand again. It was... oddly strange, to be around someone who she could touch, even in this way. Being untouchable didn't make her invulnerable, but it made her darn close. There was a creeping awareness of the fact that he could, in fact, crush her hand in his.

She slid it forward, grasped hold. Rogue glanced up at him, that vulnerability joined with resolve.] Sit with me? It's been... a real bad night.

[Please.]

[ He squeezes her hand lightly. The metal is now warm. ]

Always. You don't have to talk to me.

[ Just don't shut him out. ]

...thanks.

[The gift of sitting in silence was... one Rogue craved. She hadn't been able to do that with anyone, really, not in the same way since Logan had left. She had a feeling that she'd be able to do it with Jim, and wasn't that something.

She had a further feeling that Logan would have liked Jim. That makes her smile a little, wry and soft and she shakes her head.]

...but. Kinda feel like I've gotta. Don't want you havin' ta get anymore surprises like this from me. [That wouldn't be fair.

And then... then once he knew it all, maybe she could tell him what had driven her out. Once he'd decided... if she could even say it like she wanted to say it.]

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