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Title: Eighteen
Memories - Rogue
Author:
Terri
Email: xgrrl26@yahoo.com
Rating:
PG
Summary:
Sequel to Eighteen Questions, Take One. Rogue's past comes back to her as
she tries to get herself out of Mystique's trap. Series:
Eighteen #5
Disclaimer:
Nobody belongs to me.
Archive:
Ask, and I will gladly oblige.
Feedback:
Please! Although the surgeon general warns that good feedback may result
in more fic.
Comments:
I'm taking some creative license with her past, but it seemed to fit. And
- sorry about that last part - to those of you who've never read the comics,
that really came out of left field.
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OK, first
thing, I've got to get out of these ropes. Maybe I can work my hands around
to the front of me. I'm flexible. I bet I can pull my hips and legs through.
I can get myself out of this.
<Momma
telling me I'm special and me asking why. "Because you're adopted, baby, and
we chose you. We picked you out of all the little baby girls in the world
because you were the very best one.">
Almost had
it that time. Don't panic, don't panic. Logan's looking right now. He'll
find me.
<Me in
the church basement at CCD classes on Saturday morning. The teacher explaining
that babies born out of wedlock have their souls damned to purgatory. Me old
enough to realize that probably applied to me.>
Dammit,
almost. One more try. Come on, Rogue, keep your head together.
<Momma
always sneaking me a 'second birthday' present, because Daddy always said
one was enough and I'd get spoiled.>
Ah-ha! Got
it. All right, good. Now the ropes. Goddamnit, do evil mutants take knot-tying
courses or something? What is there, some kind of damn merit badge for that?
<Momma
crying when Daddy said I was dangerous. She said I didn't mean to hurt that
boy, but he didn't believe that. He just wanted me gone. He said I was never
really his anyway.>
Hmmm. Not
going to be easy and my wrists are a little swollen from working myself through
to get my hands in front.
<On the
road in Iowa, the old trucker who asked me if my family was worried. Me saying
I thought my Momma might be, but I couldn't go back.>
It's working.
I just need to stay calm and go slow. I can get it. Keep going, Rogue.
<Looking
out the window as Canada flies by, wondering what Momma would think of her
hothouse flower baby girl in all this cold and snow.>
Relax. Don't
let your wrists get any more swollen. Take your time, there's no sign of
Sabretooth.
<Coming
up on Laughlin City, thinking it redefined the terms 'small town' and 'pit
from hell' all at the same time. Wondering if my real mom came from a place
like this.>
There, you're
getting it. Work the rope around.
<Seeing
Logan take a beating then dish one out. Thinking - how did I get so desperate
to wind up here?>
Keep going,
just keep going. There, grab that little part with my teeth and I'll be able
to work it out of the knot. Just keep going.
<Never
hitched with someone who didn't remind me of my old Uncle Jeremiah before
him. Made it a rule, thought it would keep me safe.>
Getting
close now. Work that part through, then it'll be loose enough to move my
hands a little. I'll get it.
<My Momma
would've said he was no good. She was always warning me away from brawlers,
probably because Daddy was one.>
Almost,
almost. Breathe, you'll get it undone. Just a little more.
<Telling
him my name was Rogue, me wondering what my mother named me before she gave
me up, then wondering whether she bothered to at all.>
Got it!
Oh, thank God, thank God. My hands are free. Thank God. Now my feet.
<Remembering
how Momma always said that being trapped in a nightmare was worse than a rude
awakening any day. Me impaled on those claws, and having the weird thought
that she might change her mind about that if she could see me now.>
Shit, these
are worse. Fuck. This is going to take a little while.
<Me screaming
for help, trapped in that damn machine. Wondering if I could scream so loud
that my Momma could hear me down in Mississippi.>
OK, just
start working on it. You have time. Logan will find you. No sign of Sabretooth.
Just stay calm and start working on it.
<Logan
dropping down in front of me, me screaming for the both of us when Magneto
bent his claws back.>
It's coming.
Don't panic. You'll get it, Rogue.
<Looking
at him laying there, bleeding and drained. Me thinking God, not even Momma
would go that far for me.>
Good, just
one more part to get untied. Keep going. Don't get afraid. You can do this.
<Logan
coming back to the mansion, coming back for me. Knowing, just knowing that
despite everything I had put him through, he still cared. Me thinking how
odd that he did when my own family couldn't handle a fraction of what I had
dragged him through.>
There! Finally!
Thank God. All right, just have to untangle the ropes.
<Logan
falling at the general's house in Los Alamos. Couldn't leave him. Couldn't
leave him. Only family I had left.>
Good, now
to get the hell out of here before - oh, God, was that a noise? Please, please
let it be Logan, please don't let it be -
<Logan
in the car - "I'm going to take care of us now.">
Oh, God,
it's Sabretooth.
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