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She’ll be more withdrawn and quiet than normal when she returns those tools.]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

[ The War made him appreciate silence, and dark corners. Maybe it's dramatic to say, but all men have demons and he would rather be on good terms, lest they rule him. There's already one version of him that's empty, and he fears the Winter Soldier finding out that it's not him. That man isn't nothing: he's echoes and memories and a will to live that Jim doesn't have. ]

I figured it was somethin' to do with your skin. I didn't [ he pauses, considering. They're still holding hands, and he squeezes hers again lightly. ] Lifeforce, huh? Ten bucks says you found out the hard way.

[ He hurts for her, he realises. All he wants to do is take this monster by the throat and get it to leave her in peace for the rest of her life — Lord knows she's earned it. But the world doesn't work like that, and sometimes all you can do is be with someone when they're going through hell. ]

[She would give a laugh, except... she couldn't about her powers. Instead, she ducked her head.] Yeah... kinda. I mean. It's complicated.

[The most raw experience in her life was still not free from Mystique's influence.

She swallows and tugs his hand slightly. Let's go sit down, she can't do this while standing in the street.]

[ He looks down at their twined fingers, and then nods, letting her lead the way. ]

[Rogue led them away from the road, to sit on a large stone a few feet away.

It was strange to be keeping contact with Jim for this long, but... there was no way she could let go after what he'd shared with her.

She kept a decent space between them, but she wasn't nearly as guarded as before. It would be silly to be. This was safe.

...oh hell, how to even start?]

With the truth.

[ Because, sometimes, it's that simple. ]

[...with the truth, huh?

In the short time of the walk to the stone, Rogue felt the returning weight of Kurt's anger and her actions begin to press on her. The truth? Jim wanted to know about her powers, and she still wanted to scream just a little and all in between there was the fear of rejection just... choking her.

She glanced down at their joined hands for a moment, and made a choice to be brave.]

...I was adopted when I was four. I was in the system 'fore that. Just another abandoned kid. [Although not every abandoned kid was found in a garbage bin. She was giving him the truth, but she couldn't say that one. It was in the file Mystique had shown her - who knew if it was even true? Part of her didn't doubt it.] The woman who took me in, she was real good ta me. We traveled a bit 'round the South for her work, 'til I was twelve an' she set me up with her partner. She'd still stay for long stretches, but... thought it was best I'd stay too, best I had a base.

...probably 'cause it was when I was around twelve they told me I had a skin condition. [Rogue swallows, and the empty hollowness of her tone is filled with banked anger.] It was a lie. 'cause the woman who took me in, see, her partner was a precog. An' they knew - they knew all about my powers. An' they wanted me ta be under their control when they sprung.

[She pauses for a moment, tries to wrestle her emotions into some semblance of control.]

[ Hardly a choice when it's all of her: it's in every last drop of her blood and written right into her damn DNA. But there's a value still in the choice, and so Jim squares his shoulders and sets his jaw, and squashes the desire to tell her she doesn't need to — he doesn't need to know this to care for her, or love her. ]

And were they?

It didn't happen like they planned. [A quiet, hard whisper.] You were right about that.

[The hard way.

What's the harm in one dance?]

But they found a way. For a time. Mystique found a way.

[There is a strange flavor in the way she names this woman, her mother. It is not quite loathing and it is not quite pain and it is not quite brokenness or anguish or love or hate - it is thick. And for all of its sticky weight, the word leaves Rogue's mouth like she is forcing it out, trips out quickly with almost a cut-off hiss.

Mystique.

"Tell me about the last time you saw Mystique."

She shudders.]

[ Not all love is simple or kind. Perhaps he's being impulsive, or overprotective, but he decides — immediately — he doesn't like this Mystique person at all. Never mind that she kept Rogue safe for all those years, that she had a hand in making something this compassionate and driven, even if it was an opposing force. Jim's had enough. ]

What happened to her?

[A broken laugh. More a sob than a laugh. Skipping to the end of the story. She'd wanted to tell him, but she'd wanted him to know, first...

She can't say it.

She can't say it.

She can't not say it. Her voice carries the strain of her emotions, the tension almost ready to s n a p.]

I pushed her off a cliff.

[And with that, she moves to withdraw her hand from his.]

[ Good, he thinks, viciously, but she withdraws and his hand determinedly chases hers, curling around it. ]

It gets cold.

[ He's referring to his hand. He could be talking about the stomach it takes for that kind of decision. Lord knows he was made for war and living there. ]

[Rogue caught her breath and turned her head slowly to stare at him, eyes a little too wide.

...would he never respond in a way that made sense? She'd almost think he didn't hear her - he was sitting here, holding hands not only with a walking biohazard, but a murderer -- a matricide. But she knew he heard her, because Rogue was certain that if she'd withdrawn her hand for any other reason, he would have let her go.

She doesn't fight him, though her shoulders round in an attempt to make herself smaller.

She swallows, feeling she should say something and not sure what. There is such an acceptance in his comment that... there is no room for silence, no need to rush and fill it with explanations that she really -- wants to give him. She wants him to know.

He doesn't seem to need to know to have made up his mind.

How is that possible? How is he possible?

Instead...]

I... didn't have the right ta do it. [Soul-gripping, wrenching, and the words pour out.] I didn't have the right ta make that call. It was wrong. An' I could have helped her, could have actually used my powers ta help someone -- an' I didn't. I just -- shoved her right off. An' I hurt Kurt, Gawd, I hurt him so bad...

[She shrinks then, even more successfully, curls up in on herself as if she could make herself disappear.

I killed my mother and I'm not even sorry she's dead. Still. What kind of monsters does that make me?

The kind, perhaps, whose mother had died the moment you found out your whole life was predicated on a lie? No, that sounded like an excuse. There were no excuses for what she'd done.]

[ Firmly, ] I'm glad she can't hurt you anymore.

[ Maybe that betrays his cold heart, but he never pretended that it didn't exist or didn't influence him. There is pain in her life and it's made her strong, but at the same time there's necessary pain and there's cruelty. Sometimes one looks like the other. This isn't. ]

[ And if she can't carry this with her then he will simply do it for her. ]

Did Kurt know her the way you did?

[...that was true, at least. That was something real. Mystique couldn't hurt Rogue anymore... not in the ways that she had.

Rogue was glad about that too.

Mystique had needed to be stopped. Rogue wished she could say she'd done it for that reason. She couldn't even say, for sure, the reasons why she'd done it.]

Kurt... it's not that simple. [She drew a ragged breath.] He's her... biological son. An' my teammate. We found out 'bout the connection at different times, but when we did... he kinda appointed himself my brother.

[And it had been something solid in a world where she had lost... everything.

Maybe Jim knew a thing or two about that.]

[ One or two. He tries not to think of himself as a person who needs an anchor, but the truth is they help. Sam makes things easier; Nat lances the wounds and stitches him up. ]

[ She's got to work it out, then, untangle this little web. Don't know if I'd do right even if I had the chance... ]

But if you haven't... not yet?

[She wasn't sure exactly what he was asking, and it was kind of nice to have a point of confusion that wasn't about this, but could instead be asked and easily clarified.

She even glances up at him.]

If I haven't what?

You said you ain't sure you'd do right if y'had the chance.

[ Quietly, ] What does that mean?

...oh.

[She glanced down again, looking at their hands again. Then she swallowed.]

That's... kinda a long story, as a whole. I... had the chance ta help her. [Her hand tightened on his subconsciously, and when she spoke next her voice had dropped several decimals.] Kurt wanted me ta help her. But I just...

[She couldn't say what had happened, not without giving him a reason, something solid. She bit the inside of her lip for a moment and just -- picked a random starting point. This was real, and it was... public news, and it was true. He could probably put some of the pieces together on his own later. He already knew Mystique was her mother, and she knew that he was smart, so... just. A real reason. A close reason. A reason for something that she isn't even sure she knows all the reasons for except for the white, screaming wall of pain.]

You have mind control in your world? People takin' other people over, makin' 'em do things?

[ His grip tightens instinctively before he realises he might leave bruises, and then slackens off, in apology. ]

Yes.

[ Loki. Barton. And to an extent, what'd happened to Nat. ]

[ Then his voice drops several degrees, and the icy fury bubbles to the surface. ]

She did that? To you?

[Pain is okay. Bruises are okay. Being untouchable does not mean being invulnerable, but it's close. And when there's nothing you can feel, pain is better than nothing. Pain is so much better than nothing. So she tightens her hand in his, because Rogue is not afraid of pain as much as she is afraid of being alone.

She hears the coldness in his voice and wonders for a moment if it is good, for him, for her to continue. The subject of mind control was a volatile one to any who had experienced it in any way... and five, nearly six years was not long enough for Rogue to forget how it had made her feel, what it had meant for her at the end. No, it wasn't nearly long enough.]

She set it up. [Rogue swallowed again, hating it.] There was a real powerful telepath workin' ta free this... real old an' powerful mutant. He'd been locked up by his own people thousands of years ago, 'cause they were scared he'd gone crazy. Thing is, they didn't kill him... an' so he was able ta get his hooks into this guy, promise him a place of power in his new world, once he'd razed the old one.

[Anger, again, and the hollow ache of helplessness, that taint of deep loathing.] That's what they used me for. Had me - turn on everyone. [She shuts her eyes.] Take their powers. An' give 'em to Apocalypse. I charged him up like a battery.

[Her other hand curls gloved fingers on the rock beside her, as if trying to grab hold, dig deep into stone and root herself.]

[ She has only microseconds to try and root herself in the rock when his hand slips free of hers and his arm wraps around her, drawing her against his left side; her cheek on the metal plate of his shoulder. He can't hug her, not without consequence, but the desire to pours forth and blazes like the last sputter of a star before it goes out. This is the best he can go, even with only pieces of his soul left. She has a right to ask for every single one. ]

[ But it's not just this, he feels the cogs turning. There's a cold bastard living with him: a shade, a relentless thing. A winter soldier. Vengeance comes with having that kind of heart, and she doesn't need that. She wants her friend, not someone who's just there to protect her from her demons, no matter how badly he wants to. ]

Sweetheart, [ he says, after a moment, scratchily, ] your war ain't got bullets or mortars, but that don't mean it was any less Hell. Anybody who says it didn't hurt as bad or ask the same sacrifice of you doesn't know you at all. Now I don't have much, but it's yours to ask for when you need it.

[ He cards his (now-warm) metal fingers through her hair gently. ]

I will always be on your side.

[At first, Rogue froze - tense as piano wire. She did not want to risk moving, risk contact, risk hurting him. (Her pain was okay. His on her account was unacceptable.)

This was not how this was supposed to work.

She feels the initial chill of his metal arm warm against her shoulders - it was a heavy weight, a security, a solid in a world which had splintered beneath her feet that night. And his side was warm against her, and she stayed frozen, tense, but she could hear him, feel him breathing.

This was not how this was supposed to work.

You don't just... confess to a murder and be listened to over it, confess that you were the key that unlocked the doom of your world and be pulled into an embrace. You don't confess all your weaknesses and sins and receive loyalty in return.

That was not how it worked.

She inhaled a jagged breath as his fingers ran safely through her hair.

And part of her just wanted to twist out of his grasp and yell at him - this is now how it works! - and part of her couldn't stand the thought of rejecting what he offered, for his sake - and part of her just... ached, just wanted to stop and believe him for a moment while the rest of her knew from bitter experience that some things were too good to be true.

Despite her shock and the temptation to just... sink against him or jump up and shout at him, Rogue was mostly just concerned with not hurting him - not in any way. She'd hurt enough people, hurt more than enough. She could still hear Kurt's voice, see his face...

She didn't know what to say, or do, and so as always, Rogue defaulted to blunt honesty.]

...part of me wants ta yell at ya for being an idiot an' doin' this all wrong, an' part of me wants ta thank you. [She is tense a moment longer, still deciding if she will spring up and out and away or... allow herself to relax into him, trust him to keep himself safe. Finally, Rogue shuts her eyes. She does not move out of his grasp, but she doesn't relax either.] ...an' much as I'm inclined ta take you at your word, part of me also wants ta tell you that ya shouldn't make promises like that.

[ You can't promise someone to be there until the end of the line, is what she's saying, and it hits this stubborn wall, one part of the mighty vault he has around his heart. Jim smiles crookedly at her, the almost deliberately cheeky I know something about you that you don't. ]

Well, the idiot part is right...

[She opens her eyes when he starts to speak, catches the tail end of his smile.

...heh.]

Don't I know it.

[Rogue searches his gaze and sees no trace of hesitance, no sign that he's taking her warning.

...well. Fine.

Friends.

In the meantime, she'd take what he offered that she could see, and give him a chance to prove her wrong. That was the best she could do.

That... and this.

Slowly, slowly and so carefully, she shifts her head to rest it on his metal shoulder, lets herself relax as much as she can against him.

I accept you too. I'll let you give me what you can. And I'll keep it as safe as I can..]

...idiot.

[She was more than her mother's murderer. Jim's trust, his loyalty reminded her of that - because she had to be more than that in order to keep him, keep his trust, safe.]

Edited 2015-10-12 02:21 (UTC)

[ This was a battle, but it's not victory, her settling against him is like coming home at the end of it all, finding that the house smells the same but the world outside isn't what was left behind. Chuckling softly, his metal fingers press at her gently where they are, assuring her of his presence. He moves his chin up, carefully, away from her hair and the crown of her head. He doesn't care if it hurts him, but there are boundaries, and she's chosen to draw them. ]

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)