AN: Hello! I wanted to do something a little different from the usual. To the best of my knowledge, it hasn't been done quite like this before, but don't quote me on that. There's a lot of fanfics out there after all. I think Rogue and Magneto are among the most interesting characters in the X-men franchise, and it's great to get to experiment with them. I do not own X-Men, Marvel Comics, 20th Century Fox, or any of their affiliates.

Forewarning, I haven't published anything on Fanfiction in about five years. I'd love to say that was because I was stockpiling tons of stories...but that would be lying. Forgive me if it's not of the best quality, I'm a little rusty! Enjoy!

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Why did I agree to do this? Shopping isn't that much fun when all your clothes have to cover most of your body, Rogue moaned in her mind as she swirled a fry in ketchup. She casted her gaze to her two friends, Kitty and Jubilee, as they sat in the food court gushing about their new purchases.

Skimpy purchases, Pyro's voiced cackled.

Fuck off Bub, snarled Logan, take your nasty attitude and shove it up your-

"Shut up." Rogue muttered under her breath, squeezing her brown eyes shut and gripping the edges of her chair. The voices in her head had been annoying her more than usual lately. Sessions with the Professor helped, but nothing truly silenced them. Pyro was the most vocal, giving his two cents often, regardless of how many times Rogue had tried to quiet him. For the most part, the Logan in her head was silent, knowing how much the other voices bothered her. He only came out to try and shut Pyro up.

Cody and Magneto were the quietest, however Rogue was sure for different reasons. Cody, even before his coma, was not a very outspoken person. His laidback and quiet attitude was what originally drew Rogue to him. Magneto on the other hand...she could only speculate why Magneto never uttered a word. It wasn't because he was a nice man, his past actions obliterated any chance of that. And he wasn't gone, not by a long shot. He was there in her head for sure. Rogue, although she couldn't hear him, could feel him. His presence drifted through her mind, strongest after one of her nightmares. It was almost as if-

"Rogue are you okay?" Kitty asked her, reaching out her hand and almost touching Rogue's gloved one before thinking better of it.

"I'm fine." The striped-haired girl responded, opening her eyes.

"Are you su-,"

"Yes." Rogue interrupted and stood up. Seeing the slightly hurt look on Jubilee's face, Rogue attempted a smile. "Thanks for asking, I think I need to go to the bathroom for a minute."

As she walked away, she could hear her two friends talking in hushed voices. "Three guesses as to who they're talking about," Rogue muttered to herself, head down.

Friends? Are you sure they're your friends leech? Do "besties" whisper about each other behind their backs? You know they are, they're not even trying to hide it. Pyro's voice slithered through her psyche, injecting poison into every nook and cranny.

"They're just-" Rogue hissed to herself as she pushed the bathroom door open with more force than necessary. The door banged against the wall, startling the only occupant, an old woman drying her hands. Her beady eyes glared at Rogue, taking in every inch of her white-streaked hair and black-swathed body as she shuffled out of the room.

Worried? Not about you, more like when you're going to snap Amityville Horror-style. Like that old biddy there. Doesn't know whether to be pissed, frightened, or disgusted. Who knows Roguey-poo, maybe she's all three?

"Stop it Fireprick," Rogue uttered through clenched teeth as her eyes met her reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror. Haunted eyes met her stare, pupils swallowing up the irises. Silk-gloved fingers clutched the sink, anchoring her shaking body.

Why should I?

"SHUT UP!" Rogue scream echoed through dingy bathroom as she slid to the floor. She pressed the heels of her palms into her closed lids. He never fucking shut up. Never. She never got a moment of peace. Her mind was no longer solely hers, now a cacophony of voices not her own.

And whose fault is that? Pyro sneered.

"Mine," she whispered, "It's mine."

Rogue heaved a sigh and pulled herself up, thankful nobody had come into the bathroom since her breakdown. Glancing at the mirror again, she turned and left the bathroom. With her eyes on her feet, she didn't see the what was standing in front of her.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Rogue gasped. She automatically catalogued where she touched the stranger to make sure none of her deadly skin came into contact with human flesh. When she was sure no skin-to-skin contact was made she looked up. Her gaze met with a broad chest covered in a black turtleneck. Lifting her eyes to the face of the person, she froze.

Those eyes. She knew those eyes.

Her eyes flew to the rest of the face, dread stabbing every inch of her body. A youthful and handsome face accented by a straight nose, beautifully-shaped lips, and ice blue eyes. Eyes that had locked onto hers on the Statue of Liberty. Eyes that starred in more than one of her nightmares.

"Hello Rogue," Magneto said with a tilt of his lips.