Author's Notes: Blame it on twenty-some years of 'The X-Files' and 'Twilight Zone' and awesome cult classics like 'Carnival of Souls'. Can't tell you how long I've wanted to write this but I thought it was impossible. Hope I pulled it off! If you enjoy those stories, I hope you'll enjoy this one, too. Please leave a review, whatever your feelings. I'm not just digging for praise; constructive criticism is welcome, too!

The story's too abrupt to benefit from individually posted chapters, but I've added breaks to map it. Really made an effort to keep the rating under 'M', but there are some mature themes. Enjoy!

I Make the Soul Beautiful

I shouldn't be telling you this but… This is going to sound insane. Maybe I am insane. But I know what I know and you have to believe me. I've never told anyone and I'm so tired of running from myself.

Where should I start?

The beginning. Before things got so complicated…

A man named Melchizedek theorized the existence of 'morpho genetic grids' located above and below the earth. Each species had a place on this grid – a path forward and a trail behind. Once the collective group obtained the next step, the previous pool went extinct. Higher and higher we animals climbed. First, we gained power over our minds. Then our environment. Then each other. Then? What then? Then we mastered the weather, harnessed solar power into personal weapons; we learned to fly and manipulate the thoughts of others. Terrified? Yes. Be afraid. Your horror only touches ours. We became freaks: alone, afraid. Until Charles Xavier rallied the cry for unity! And peace! And freaks flocked to him like ducklings to their mother.

I, however, was knee-deep in the mud along the Mississippi. I kissed a boy – drained his life-force. For many years after, he lived – "lived" – in a coma. Then he died. I killed him and no one blinked an eye. No one understood why I loathed and feared myself. After all, I was merely the next step in the evolutionary phase.

I was adopted by Raven and Irene: the only parents I ever knew. We instinctively understood each other. I knew they did things that would've curdled the Baptists' blood. They were lesbian lovers, yes, but worse – freaks like me. So we were an island to ourselves. They taught me how to hunt and operate fire-arms. They taught me how to fight and how to lie. But as my body matured and longed for physical affection, they couldn't teach me how to master my powers. Or my urges. The second person I drained left me with super strength, flight, and seven senses. This woman was much feistier than the boy, and she kicked up a ruckus in my mind all day and night. Half-mad, I flocked to Xavier, too, and he promised to help me.

"Rogue, are you familiar with the teachings of Carl Jung? He believed that every consciousness possesses a 'shadow' – the embodiment of traits we dislike and try to exterminate. It can never been fully repressed or destroyed. Nor should it be. One must learn to incorporate the shadow with the light. Both parts will perish to create a new whole. I believe this is your barrier and can help you overcome it. You will emerge more powerful than ever… Hence my hesitation. How can I trust that you won't use your new abilities for selfish gain?"

What a grand liar he was.

At first, I obeyed to earn redemption. Then, I enjoyed the adventures. Being an X-Man was exhilarating. My team and I worked together, lived together, ate together, and loved together. Yes, we were one giant cesspool of incestuous lust and unrequited love. My early crushes were so innocent until he arrived.

Gambit stepped from the shadows in a cloud of lies too dense for even Xavier to penetrate. His corrupted smile, piercing eyes, and sweet Southern twang struck through me like Cupid's arrow. Back then, I was mad for his thick, cinnamon hair and rugged body, too, but those attractions quickly cooled. His eyes, his smile – I would always love those.

What did he see in me? Well, what interest does a cat have with a mouse? He must've known how obsessed I was with consummating our relationship – "relationship" – based on infatuation and desire and power. He would pick at my scabs, probe my sores, and expose my weaknesses until I snapped like an animal. Did he want me to kill him, too? Yes. Yes, I think he did. We didn't really love each other then. He loved the threat of dying and I loved the thrill of sex.

But those were young days. We grew to know each other better. I absorbed others – never killing again, though. I was a hero now. He revealed himself in bloody layers and halting promises and half-truths until he learned to trust me. It took a long, long time, but I finally learned where his lines were drawn. I knew how close to press and when to back away. In our three-legged tango, he learned to ignore my infidelities, my temper, my periods of wildly demanding possessiveness followed by months of aloof indifference.

Somewhere along the way, I fell for my own trap. The game: jealousy. Trying to make Remy jealous was like trying to collect stars. I should've known I was out of my league, but I enjoy a challenge, too. Little clues dropped here and there – Magnus isn't all bad. I see good in him, like I see good in you. He just needs someone to believe in him. If he had the love of a good woman, he'd change. I'm a good woman. Do you see how things snowballed? My mind was a mess and then – then! – I learned I could touch that decrepit terrorist without killing him.

Was it a sign?

Years after I joined the X-Men, Xavier finally made good on his promise to help me control my powers. That grand liar. He delved into my mind with Remy – since Remy had earned my trust. They saw the broken pieces of my mind and helped put them together while eroding the emotional trauma "scar tissue" that kept my fractured psyche from healing. The woman who awoke from that journey… I swear, she wasn't me.

I watched her standing with Remy atop a cliff.

"Willin' to be my Guinea pig?" she asked him.

Smiling, looking in her eyes! he kissed her! She wasn't me, but he couldn't tell!

Some hours or days later, I awoke in my body again. Remy brought me water and said I'd been mediating for hours. Had I? I felt my resolve slip, felt that imposture edging into my body again and realized she wanted him!

I said something about the beauty of solitude and quiet. Said I'd flee into the Outback if necessary to drink my fill of isolation. He got the hint. Over the next four months, he continued to suffer my evasive dismissals. I'm ashamed to remember it now – even more ashamed to have to confess this, but… I enjoyed making him suffer. I did. For once, I had the power. All those times that he tore open my wounds just to watch me twitch replayed in my mind. I never forgave him. Now I was so close – so close – and touchable! But off-limits. I wore my shirts unzipped, my pants too tight, and by this time, I had learned how to undress a man with my eyes. How to bait him with a curious smile. How to lure him in with lowered eyes, parted lips, and then toss him back like an unworthy catch. He'd replay the encounter all day, wondering what he said or did wrong. All I wanted was to torment him. So I did.

It stung when he finally wised up. He thought I didn't notice Frenzy or that I hadn't guessed at their past relationship. She was angry, aggressive, and probably crazy in the sack, too. Just his type. Asshole. I knew how to pay him back. Magnus was… many things. A lover? No, not really. I mean, obviously, we slept together, but… I believed in the healing act of physical intimacy. I believed that by sharing my love, the receiver's heart could heal. Maybe just a little. Doesn't that make the world a better place? It wasn't all hatred directed at Remy, but it wasn't romantic, either.

Don't worry, I learned my lesson. Magnus resisted me as easily as oil resists water. I didn't call? Okay. I didn't visit? No biggie. Rogue who, am I right? He wasn't manipulated by my so-called "superior" charms and I realized what a mistake the whole venture had been. Sex should be an expression of love. Or at least desire! I vowed to never again take a lover who didn't deserve me. The question being – what sort of woman was I? I was so far from removed from myself – so far from good – that I didn't know anymore.

I'm beginning to think that's what the imposture wanted.

Chapter Two

Life without love appears pale. It's a sort of jaundice over sickly green – a fake sense of vibrancy concealing fatal illnesses. I was dying – dying! – and dying for someone to realize! But no one cared. Xavier was dead. Mystique and Remy were strangers I knew very well. I'd left my friends to join the elite superhero team known as the Avengers. They're the very best. Or so they say. Everyone's at their peak and everyone takes themselves so seriously and the only jokes are vulgar and cruel ones.

Where were my friends? Where was my lover?

I had left them. And it was killing me.

On the field and in my personal life, I was reckless. I started stupid fights and dove head-first into danger. I wanted someone to save me. I didn't know how else to ask for help. Then in a battle with a particular nasty baddie, I took a crippling hit. I lay patiently. Water lapped gently at my heels, offering to carry me away if I waited long enough. But neither death nor my companions noticed. And I heard a voice – the imposture, perhaps – telling me that no one was coming to help me. This was my mess and I owned it.

I took a sabbatical, saw a therapist. PTSD. Apparently, the turbulent ride I called 'life' had left me with some psychological fractures. This isn't uncommon in superheroes, and although I decided to keep this private, I wasn't ashamed. I came back rejuvenated – healed. Captain American put me in charge of the Unity Squad: a division to unite mutants with the wider population. Occasionally, I reunited with my old team, the X-Men, but it was like meeting up with old high-school friends in college. The chemistry was gone. The family had broken – shattered by deaths and betrayals.

Remy had moved on, too – to X-Force. I heard he'd briefly taken up with Lorna, the team captain, before crashing into a more dangerous liaison with the boss's wife. I kept a respectful distance. His business wasn't mine. Not anymore. Not until he got involved with trouble he couldn't handle with some girl named Joelle and uber-baddie, Tombstone. I threw him every life-line. Join my team. We're friends, talk to me! I care about you.

Cool as cucumber Remy LeBeau. I might as well have been some drunk floozy he carried helpfully to a cab. Sweet, silly girl, you don't really want me to take you home. Sleep it off. Here's a peck on the brow to remember me.

We'd been through so much together. You were there – you remember. Those happy days in California before our powers returned. Those painful therapy sessions that lanced the sickly puss from our hearts. Those early days when "we" had such potential. But how long did the good days ever last? Not long. Never as long as the nights between them: filled with open betrayals, murderous intents, and countless frustrations born from infinite misunderstandings. Now we weren't even enemies. We were strangers.

Strangers.

Christ, it hurt.

But pain means healing, right? This was a chance to define myself without him. Without any of his baggage. I could change the world for the better – just like Xavier dreamed. I would leave this place better than I found it – like I always wanted. And maybe someday I'd find another wicked smile that could make my knees weak. Maybe not. Probably not. That was okay, too.

In yet another battle, I helped mentor young and irritable Nate Grey. He'd survived the destruction of his native world only to chafe at the freedom he found here. Among his many complaints: why accept me as his mentor? He had superior strength, power, agility, etc. Know what it got him? Knocked flat on his ass.

"Here, Rogue," he offered his chin with a smirk, "Let's see what you can do with it."

I thought I was wiser than that little punk, but he had me. That little liar! I sampled his powers with a kiss and saw through the shadows and lies that evaded the great Xavier. This kid was a live wire, jolting me into a higher existence, where I stood outside of time and observed-

Let me start over. We – mortal men – observe time linearly. There is the past "behind" us, the present "with" us, and the future "ahead" of us. Whatever defect prevents mortal men from viewing all times at once did not taint Nate's blood.

Now I, too, stood above that mortal failing – able to foresee, manipulate, and orchestrate my world.

Chapter Three

There it is – that look. You think I'm crazy. "You didn't vanish for a whole year, Rogue! We have records to prove it!" Except it wasn't me. The imposture hijacked my body, and you couldn't tell the difference.

That's okay. I don't need your help. I know what I have to do and I'm prepared to do it. I'm going to kill that thing inhabiting my body, isolating me from my friends, and twisting my thoughts against me. I'm going to kill it tonight.

In a hospital room, Rogue gathered her things together. She hadn't stayed long but she'd brought so much. Why had she brought all these things? Seemed silly now. Outside, it was dark – raining. Maybe they should stay until the weather let up. A nurse entered with the baby, screaming from a prick on his heel, and Remy – ever anxious to assess damage – peeled off the tiny, circular Band-Aid which contained a single drop of blood. He showed it to her with pride.

"Look, chere, dat's our blood."

I found myself in Logan's cabin. It's always a little jarring, stepping back into the time-stream, but I've established a routine now. Check my surroundings, check the time, and keep quiet. It's after midnight and I'm alone. Logan's been dead for… I can't remember, but he's dead. Storm keeps this cabin the way I keep Remy's old t-shirts.

Outside, the howling wind cuts sharply like children's laughter. Children? No, impossible. But what if… what if my imposture's also learned to step outside the time-stream? What if she's brought my kids here? Is that even possible?

A tiny girl child crawled into her parent's enormous bed. With sugary-cereal breath, she spoke over Rogue's sleeping face: "Mommy! Time for rising and shinning!"

I rushed outside, ready for a fight, but only the night breeze greeted me. No children. No voices. It must've been a trick. I was exhausted and had allowed my mind to deceive me. Turning back to the cabin, I felt eternity betray me. Evil lurked within – I was sure of it. But running would make me a coward, which was worse than death, so I crossed the threshold and stepped willingly into Hell.

With the door shut and bolted, I re-examined my M&P Shield on the table. The polymer felt warm and the rounds were missing.

Remy entered their bedroom, carrying Oli. From Hallmark's perspective, it was the perfect family scene. Two parents: a little boy, a little girl – the house only slightly lived-in, and all the clothes clean, all the appliances new. But Rogue knew the truth. They were standing in the eye of a hurricane. Remy instructed his son to take Becca into the kitchen, and then he turned those stone-cold eyes to her.

"You're still in bed? D' you have any idea what time it is?"

She pulled a tattooed arm over her dark eyes.

"You been takin' those things again, ain't you?" he accused.

She lunged and spat: "You're takin' my kids! You're leavin' me to die!"

Filled with venom, he hissed: "You wanted your freedom and you got it. I didn't make you screw around! I didn't pump you full of pills! This is my family, too, damnit. If you're goin' down, you ain't takin' our kids with you!"

"You said you loved me! Ah'll die if you leave. Remy, there's a storm comin'! Can't you feel it?"

He held her and for a moment, they pretended they still loved each other and everything would be alright. Whatever "alright" meant. She sobbed on his shoulder and he stroked her tangled locks.

"Chere, I don't know how t' help. I don't think I can. Most I can do is take the kids so they don't have to watch you crash and burn. It ain't good-bye. You should know by now, good-byes never stick with us. I'll take 'm out to N'awlins, visit my dad. You take some time t' figure out what you need. Maybe… Maybe you can't do this anymore and you need your own place. Maybe you need the X-Men. Maybe you just need to realize how good you got it here. I'm gonna help, but you gotta tell me what you need. I still love you, Anna."

"We wouldn't want you to have an accident."

The devil never assumed such an unimposing figure as this! The intruder was a young woman with a short, fierce field of dandelion locks. Her rounded figure had never known physical hardships and her clothes echoed her simple, ordinary existence.

I asked how she'd gotten in.

"Same as you, Ah imagine – walked." She curled up on the couch with a worn paperback novel. "Why don't you find us somethin' to eat, honey? You're probably starvin'."

Carrying my empty firearm, I searched the cabinets and drawers for the missing bullets. Wooden walls and shadowed corners met my every glance.

"Seem to be low," I said. Returning to the living room, I found the couch vacated. She'd left her book behind – 'Hippies, Indians, and the Fight for Red Power'.

She should've known he was lying. As soon as the car backed out of their drive-way, a white, windowless mini-van pulled in. Three men in white uniforms came into the house, carried her out, and drove her to a hospital. Seething, she saw all the ways she would kill him. Crazy? So he thought she was crazy. This was just another ploy to take away her kids! Every wronged bone in her swore on everything holy that she would never surrender, never forgive him. She would never prove him right.

"Ah just want my kids back," she tearfully told the doctor.

He nodded, as if he were sympathetic. "Well, we want your kids to have the verybest mother they can have. Don't we?"

"How am Ah a good mother here? Ah can't even see them!"

A power-steeple erected between them. "Why don't we discuss Magnus?"

"That's why Ah'm here!"

"No. No, he has nothing to do with you being in this state. He's merely a symptom of something else. For some reason, you thought he could help, so let's discuss it."

"Ah cheated on my husband so he locked me up!"

"Is it true," he pressed, "that Magnus tried to kill your husband? That he's even tried to kill you? How do you go from fleeing a terrorist to jumping into his arms?"

"Ah was never afraid of him."

"No?"

"No."

"Maybe you should've been."

"Ah don't wanna talk about him anymore."

"Is it true that you left your children alone at night to meet him?"

"Would you prefer Ah'd invited him in?"

"Into your home? Heavens no! I should hope you know better than to bring a known terrorist who's openly targeted your husband around your children."

"Stop callin' him that!"

"Did you want him to kill them?"

"NO! He would never-! He would never… No!"

His words stopped suddenly and he let several long breaths draw out between them. "Was that the best mother you could've been? I mean, that was before you came here. Before your husband called us. Before he even had a reason to call."

"No." She covered her face. "God help me."

The doctor approached her and kindly squeezed her shoulder. She looked up and saw Nate Grey.

"Why do you like this world so much?" He asked. "It must be your favorite, you come all the time. Why?"

"Ah don't know…" I shook my head. "Ah keep thinkin' Ah can change things."

"You can't."

"Ah know. But still, it ain't all bad. Ah've got Remy and the kids."

"This world will never be yours."

"Ah know…"

He helped me stand. "Let's go, shall we?"

Chapter Four

Rogue wasn't a morning person, and the mission on Coney Island kept her up until dawn. Her foul mood must've been more than visible – no one spoke to her when she showed up for the faculty meeting; not even Bobby. She was begrudgingly grateful, but kept her words to herself, sipping on her coffee instead. Her mind was trying to switch gears and focus on her upcoming classes. Working two jobs wasn't an easy task, but this was something she believed in. She wanted to succeed at this… It would be a pleasant change.

As the instructors gathered around the conference table, Bobby took the seat farthest away from Rogue. It hurt her feelings to be so visibly isolated, so she tried to perk up. Then she saw his eyes catch Kitty's, and she realized his decision had nothing to do with her.

Bobby looked around the table – Rogue was seated at the far end, beside Hank and Rachel. Logan and Kitty sat at the head; Sam and Paige were just entering the room. Then, Bobby boldly asked the headmistress, "Where is he?"

"Off," Logan grunted.

After a moment to gather her wits, Rogue realized they were talking about Gambit. There was a time when she would've known this before anyone else, but things had changed.

"Then maybe this is a good time to talk about it," Kitty said, pulling the fanned papers before her into a single, messy stack.

"Why the hell do we have to say anything?" Logan snarled.

The background commotion had come to a gradual halt, and the quiet conversation between headmasters was now the center of attention. Kitty implored her old mentor with a desperate look, and although it was awkward for everyone, no one could turn away.

"Fine," he agreed, "Everyone take a seat."

The Guthrie siblings hurried to the table and Hank pulled his notes into order. Rogue wished she'd had time to grab another cup, but she didn't dare stand now.

Kitty spoke: "First things first – Gambit's classes are on hold until Wednesday. Those slots are going to be study halls now, and we'd appreciate volunteers."

"So he's still got sex ed?" asked Bobby.

"Why not?"

"Well, he's…" Bobby said, "How's this gonna look?"

"It's called 'sexual education', not 'pregnancy prevention'," said Hank, "And although the two are often collaborating points, I highly doubt the students will inseparably associate them. If anything, this public error will inspire him to share his regrets. I feel this is when he shines as an instructor – when he warns others of the painful path."

"Yeah, teenagers are just like anyone else," Paige threw in, "They'll make their own fuck-ups. Kitty, I can take his a.m. slots."

"Thanks, Husk. Next up-"

"Wait just a minute!" Rogue finally said, "Did Ah miss a memo or somethin'? What the hell is everyone goin' on about?"

Although she spoke to the room at large, she looked at Bobby specifically, and he provided the answer.

"I'm sorry, Rogue… Kinda thought you'd know before I did, I… Dunno if you wanna find out like this, but-" he looked around for support, and when none came, he continued: "Gambit's having a baby. Some girl," he shrugged, "I dunno her name."

Sam muttered, "He probably doesn't remember her name…"

"We've got a lotta enemies," snapped Logan. "Gumbo's smart not to put that out there. Next item."

Whatever attention Rogue had to spare was suddenly lost. She didn't even hear the rest of the agenda list.

She didn't know what she was supposed to be feeling, but one emotion reigned supreme – anger. Not as a scorned lover, but she was angry that he'd let himself fall into this situation. The man was no novice at lovemaking; he certainly knew how to prevent pregnancy. This woman could've been anyone, and anything might've happened to lead to this situation… But Rogue knew.

A few months ago, she and Emma went out to breakfast and got an earful (as did half the restaurant) about Remy's one-night stand. This woman was materialistic, self-centered, and short-sighted. She'd probably never been anything but than a one-night stand to anyone! And she was exactly the kind of person that Remy needed to avoid. Someone like that, who knew Remy had an understated fortune, would intentionally put him in a vulnerable position.

Rogue couldn't hide her disappointment, and luckily had three days before she had to face him with this knowledge.

…

"Ah just wanted to talk," Rogue said, annoyance creeping into her voice.

After a few short minutes on the phone, she and Magnus had already run out of things to discuss. He wasn't the sort to entertain idle gossip or useless words about indifferent topics. Because they were on opposite coasts, shared active hours were brief, and when one was full of energy, the other was just waking or settling down. Talking about work seemed forbidden – since Cyclops and Wolverine had taken opposing sides.

"What is it that troubles you?"

"Remy…" She flinched at the name, afraid it might cause Magnus some discomfort. But the pain was all hers. She pressed on: "He's havin' a baby. Well… That's the word goin' around, anyway. Ah haven't seen him since Ah heard."

"Go on."

Her thoughts coiled and rose up like an angry serpent. "Go on? What more is there ta say?"

"I beg your patience, Rogue. It's been many years since I've heard private female confessions, and the expectations for the male listener have dramatically changed. Indulge me."

"Ah guess Ah don't really know why Ah feel this way… Ah just do."

"Does he plan to join this woman in matrimony? Being subjected to her unwelcomed and unyielding presence would most certainly be jarring."

"Marry her?" Rogue laughed, "Ah doubt it."

"Then his child will be a bastard, nothing more than an unfortunate mishap, requiring heavy fines and little time. The mother holds even less value – unless she possesses some wealth or powerful connections. Gambit's selfish compulsions have once more inflicted tragedy on those closest to him."

"Whoa – what century are you livin' in? Things have changed, Magnus. Babies don't get dumped in cardboard boxes, 'bastards' or not."

"'Things have changed'… So cries the wave of every new generation, but progress fails to find firm footing! If anything, mankind has regressed. How else would you describe the decimation of our species?"

Her mouth moved, but couldn't produce words.

"If homo superior is to survive the century," he continued, "we must, at some point, cease isolation. We must begin to breed. Gambit may act thinking only of himself, but his actions will perpetuate our species. He is powerful, after all. There is no reason to think he will produce inadequate offspring. Let that be your comfort."

Leave it to Magnus to discuss the ethical and cultural responsibilities when she'd called to vent about her feelings. In the end, he was as accepting of the situation as everyone else, when she'd been hoping for an ally. She quickly ended the conversation and sat alone with her thoughts, more frustrated than ever.

…

Tuesday night, Rogue stayed up late grading pop-quizzes. She'd given one to all of her classes so she'd have a distraction, and (not surprisingly), they'd all scored terribly. The decision of throwing out the scores (and her work to grade them) or harming her students' GPA drove her to drinking. Would it be wrong to scold them? The only reason she'd bothered to test them was for her own benefit, and punishing them might alienate her from the students. That was an added burden she didn't need.

A bottle of Riesling and Sam Cook album couldn't alleviate her guilt – nor did it shift her thoughts.

'Did ya ever want kids?' she'd once asked Gambit, ages ago.

'When I was a pup, I wanted a whole damn litter. T'ink I've seen too much of de world to bring another life into it… especially an innocent one. But I ain't really known for doin' what I ought to," he answered with a devil may care grin.

She fell asleep without setting her alarm and overslept.

Neglecting her make-up and pulling her hair back into a sloppy pony-tail, she managed to make the staff meeting on time. Everyone preceded her, including the infamously late Guthrie pair. She could hear their voices in the room before she entered it, and one voice in particular caused her to hesitate.

"That's his spine… There's his feet… And that's his face."

A chorus of voices cooed their delight.

"Oh, look at his little face!" cried Paige, "Gambit, he looks just like you!"

Logan grumbled "poor bastard" and everyone shared a laugh.

Rogue felt like they were laughing at her.

Sam said: "Ah ain't an expert, but that ain't a new baby."

"Non, he's half way there."

Rogue felt a needle pierce her heart.

Hank dared to comment: "Gambit, I think I voice the group consensus when I say your joy is ours. Good tidings are in precious short supply of late… I do not wish to tarnish this announcement with doubts, but one question seems to weigh heavily on the collective mind."

"Mais, if you've only got one, monsieur Bete, you've got more answers than me."

"Heavens no!" replied the doctor, "I would never presume-"

"Remy," Kitty gently interrupted, "why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Even without watching him, Rogue could sense his discomfort. A part of her couldn't help but be bitter. What didn't he keep secret? Kitty should've asked why he bothered to broadcast this particular secret, although Rogue felt certain she knew the answer to that, too. He wanted everyone to know that he'd moved on. Maybe he wouldn't introduce his girlfriend – or wife, for all they knew – but he'd devote his whole heart to this child. If people started associating him with this baby, they'd stop associating him with Rogue. It was tacky and he knew it.

On the other hand, she hoped this child would provide him with the home he'd always been seeking. Gambit once told her that he was her harbor, but who was his?

"Ah love you. Ah'll love you forever." She'd promised in the throes of passion.

But the very next morning, she'd thrown away all their tender promises and declarations. He'd seduced her under false pretenses. She'd been rash in the face of disaster, as always. And in the light of day, with all his faults visible, she collected them like discarded garments and threw them back in his face. She'd abandoned him, again; when he'd most needed her… Again.

Years passed before they re-established intimacy. This was a wiser, stronger love that didn't flinch at every shadow like a hunted fawn. The passion ebbed and flowed, but she never believed it would dry out. Things only began to change when she mastered control of her powers. She changed in ways both subtle and bold, and his love became a burden. But she couldn't abandon him. Not again. For one, she was too stubborn. She'd learned that the hardest hearts were those that had opened up and been rejected many, many times. She didn't want him to get hurt, even as her affections hardened with resentment that he was undoubtedly victim to. Eventually, he let her go with love. And the part of her that wanted to fall to the ground and sob faded silently into oblivion.

"I didn't know y' cared," Gambit said.

Logan cleared his throat, "Someone wanna get Rogue?"

She rushed in, chin high. If she was going to be the elephant in the room, she would at least be a dignified elephant.

Chapter Five

I retreated from the time-stream: humiliated, raw, and confused. Thankfully, Nate had gone. He must've known I wouldn't want to face him after that scene. Jesus Christ, I was fucked up! Lunatic mother locked in a nut-house? Or petty, possessive, egocentric ex-girlfriend?

I always thought I'd be a better person if only certain things turned my way, but now I saw myself as I was. I would never be different. I would only be me.

Logan's cabin. Day-light filled the room and I knew it was too late to kill her now.

The dandelion woman returned with arms full of brown paper bags. She must've gotten groceries and yet – I hadn't seen paper grocery bags since I was a child! She instructed me to unload the trunk and I obeyed. Outside, a smooth dirt road had appeared. I didn't want to know how much time I'd lost. Instead, I ducked obediently into the vehicle truck and grabbed a bag. Blood spilled over my fingers and a single violet eye rolled towards me.

A woman had been hacked into pieces, placed in paper bags, and delivered to me. Her body wasn't too mutilated for me to identify.

It was Bella Donna. Remy's ex-wife.

I rushed to the bushes and voided my stomach while Dandelion continued to carry bags inside. Her ordinary clothes were clean – bloodless. How?

"Why?!" I demanded.

"Baby, it's what you wanted."

"No," my voice broke. "He's gonna be devastated…"

"It's what you needed. Trust me. Ah'm your momma, Ah know best."

The image of his heart-broken face faded from my mind and I focused on this simpleton before me. My mother was dead – by my father's hands. She'd been dead since… Since I was a little girl! That meant Bella Donna couldn't be dead.

I must've been stuck in my head!

Years ago, I'd absorbed Belle's psyche by accident, and that must've been what "my mother" murdered. Upsetting, yes, but at least she was alive! This explained so much – the time loss, the hallucinations, the confusion. Nothing made sense because I was dreaming. I had to wake up! How had I gotten here?

Nate was with me, so I didn't have to solve this puzzle alone.

"You ain't goin' anywhere, Anna Marie," said Dandelion. "That's always been your problem! Runnin' from one man to another. Guess what? No runnin'. No men. Ya don't need 'm! Everything you need, baby girl, is right here. It's here." She touched my chest.

Rogue emerged from the hospital a different person. Clear-eyed and focused, she saw her children differently. They weren't an adorable assortment of her-and-him – they were toddlers who needed her guidance and protection. She immediately made a mental list of everything they required for meals. What had they been eating? She didn't know. There were disgustingly few details she could recall about her children. Hopefully, when they were grown, they'd remember the mother she became and not the mother she'd been.

Later that evening, she and Remy had a long over-due conversation.

"Ah need to work again," she said. "Ah know it's gonna be hard findin' a sitter, but Ah need to have adventures. It's who Ah am and it's why Ah'm dyin'!"

"What about us?"

Her mouth suddenly went dry. "What Ah did to you… to our family… Ah can't begin to apologize. Sayin' 'Ah'm sorry' doesn't cut it. But Ah am so, so sorry, and if Ah could take it back Ah would. Is there any way we could get past this?"

Instantly, his lips were on hers. He'd been preparing himself for a life without her – a life he didn't want. He knew what he'd tell the kids and how it'd break his heart a million ways every day for the rest of his life. Secretly, he'd even steeled himself against reconciliation. Everyone knew she was the better parent, the better person. Something in him made her sick and selfish. If he loved her, he would have to let her go. But now that they were here… He could never live without her. With mingled tears and slurred kisses, he gave her everything – his body, his heart, his trust.

"Wake up!" Dandelion slapped my face. "Honestly! Got your daddy's temper and my rose-tinted glasses. Worst of both!"

I noticed she was covered in blood and a crimson trail smeared down the hall. No way was this real. I fought to remember: it wasn't real.

"Who'd you kill this time?" I asked.

She wiped her hands on her blue jeans. "Nate. Tough lil' bastard."

My blood ran cold. "NO!"

"Yes!" She hissed, eyes glowing like a mountain lion. "No more jumping around the time-stream for you, lil miss! We work this out today!"

The M&P rested in the hostler at my hip. In one smooth motion, I pulled, racked, and fired at her chest. Her body collapsed into a heap of mixed laundry – colors bled together and then faded from sight.

.::.

During Rogue's tenure with the X-Men, hospitals had rarely been a joyful place. Today it was positively a party! A dozen or so mutants in their flamboyant best filled the waiting room. By comparison, Jean-Luc, Remy's father, appeared absolutely ordinary in his tailored Victorian suit. The grandpere-to-be cornered Storm and quietly asked: "What she like? Is she crazy?"

With a graceful smile, the weather goddess replied: "I don't think she is entirely sane to take up with your son, but she is beautiful and strong-willed."

'Beautiful' was an understatement. Kailin was literally a supermodel – or at least, she had been before her pregnancy. Poor, frail giraffe was too weak to dress and walk with a baby on the way, so she'd attached herself to Remy. Her final stunning masterpiece – wearing only a bra and 'bold!' written across her forearm – still hung in Times Square. Predictably, her fortune had been spent as quickly as it came, and without work, the supermodel was soon sleeping on her friends' couches. Her friends quickly dried up, too, and – five months after their one-night-stand – Kailin called Remy out of desperation.

Rogue kept waiting for Victoria's Secret new season to roll over Kailin's advertisement. Weren't parents and conservatives offended by her enormous sexuality? But it continued to haunt her. Like Godzilla frozen in time, Kailin's come-hither glare watched Rogue go to work every day, unaware of her present demise.

"He's here!" Remy announced, bursting through the double-doors.

Everyone cheered and congratulated him – even Rogue. His sun was bright today and they basked in his warmth. Whatever he had once been, he was no longer hers. Now, he belonged to his son.

"Nine pounds, fifteen ounces. Twenty-two inches."

"Bull-shit!" Logan snapped. "That baby was ten pounds!"

"Pay up, crabby." Kitty held out an opened hand.

Storm serenely caressed the new father and asked: "How is she?"

"Little rough for the wear, Stormy, but worst is over. She's restin' but he's in the nursery if y'all wanna peak."

"Does my grandson have a name?"

"Abel."

"Abel LeBeau," Jean-Luc tested the name on his tongue.

"Abel Keane-LeBeau," he corrected.

"I like it!" declared Jubilee.

"Let's see if it fits." Luc said and led the way into the nursery.

As everyone funneled through the doors, Remy somehow ended up at the rear. Rogue felt his sunshine dim, and glancing over, noticed his lips were ivory. Beneath him, his legs trembled. Without a word, she hooked his elbow and helped him into a seat. His hands were ice. Kneeling between his legs, she rubbed his fingers.

"Sorry… Adrenaline's wearin' off." His crooked smile tipped for her.

She lowered her eyes, shading her glee at Kailin's weakness. That waif had defined her worth on her flat, firm tummy; her small, perky breasts; and her flawless thighs. But now a wrecking ball named Abel had demolished her life. Soon, Remy would lose interest and realize she didn't deserve his affections.

"Mon Dieu, it was awful," he shuttered. "She was in so much pain, Rogue, and I couldn't do anything about it."

Stroking his hands, she said: "That's birth, sugah."

"She was so strong… Amazing." He wiped his face. "She's tougher than people give her credit for. Tougher than you give her credit for."

"Well…" What could she say? He wasn't wrong. "My opinion doesn't really matter."

"It wouldn't matter if you were wrong but you're not. She's vain and reckless and so fuckin' needy. I didn't get one kid, I got two! What am I gonna do, Rogue?" His angry fists pulled his hair. "I can't do this."

"Oh, Remy!" She embraced him like the sea to the shore and felt him crash. It was the sweetest moment of her life. He'd been so strong, so isolated. The waters had left her ocean – the moon had left her sky. Now he was back – her life was back! As angry, turbulent waves tore down her levees, she struggled to keep afloat, but was elated to drown in him. What a sweet death!

"You don't owe Kailin anything. Abel's all that matters and Ah know you won't fail him… Ah won't let you."

His desperate arms locked around her and his fingers dug into her flesh. Whether he was drowning or swimming, she couldn't say. Finally, he spoke again. "It should've been you."

Her heart broke like it had never broken before. Wet, hot blood exploded into unending, ugly tears.

The next morning, Remy took Kailin and their baby home. They'd set up a nursery between two apartments and had hired a nurse who helped during the day. Remy continued to teach, and although Abel was a source of immense joy and pride, Kailin grated his nerves. Soon, neighboring apartments were too close, and Remy moved into another building. He saw less of Abel, of course, and his heart ached when his little boy was away. But Rogue saw more of him this way.

She understood him in ways Kailin never could. They were partners, war buddies, and lovers. On Kailin's "nights out", Rogue bathed him, Remy fed him, and the three slept in the same bed. She would never be Abel's mother, but she fit into his life as easily as she fit into Remy's.

Kailin was the odd ball. The supermodel died - the beautiful woman who survived couldn't adjust to motherhood. Periodically, she would crash a date; arrive at the school unexpectedly; or meet him on the tarmac after a mission. It was obvious that she expected him to rescue her from her own bewildering hell.

Weeks and months passed by uneventfully, but they were life times for Abel. Rogue became "Auntie" and he would leap from her table, sheet tied around his shoulders, hoping to fly like she could.

"Ah wish he was mine," she told Remy one night. "Ah wish he could stay forever."

Abel marched around his room, calling loudly for his stuffed bamf. It was once more time for him to return to his mother and his little suit-case waited by the door.

Leaning coolly against the door frame, he asked: "Would you ever want one of your own?"

She felt her face brighten. The thought of her own little boy – an Abel for keeps – made her glow inside. Remy's face reflected that spark.

"Never thought about it," she replied. "Ah wouldn't love my own more than Ah love that booger. And they'd have some big shoes to fill…"

"Think about it."

She felt light-headed with giddiness. "Why? You offerin'? Ah don't even have a ring."

His loop-sided grin stretched across his whole face. "My dear, I'll buy you the most vulgar diamond in Atlanta!"

Chapter Six

My hand throbbed. The trigger remained held against its guard, although there were no more rounds to fire. Slowly, I released the gun and worked the tension from my fingers.

Dandelion was gone. Her blood pooled where she'd fallen, but now that she was deceased, she'd vanished. Like a henchman in a video game.

Alone, I sat on the couch and wondered what my next step would be. Nate was gone – Belle was gone – now, my "mother" was gone, too. How did I have so many personalities still inside my mind? Xavier claimed to erase them all. Even if he failed, my mother had died long before my powers activated. I couldn't possibly have absorbed her!

I hugged my arms and gathered my thoughts. Diamonds and babies and little boys… Yes, that would've been a wonderful life. But Logan was dead. Kitty had left us. "Abel" was just a dream like Oli and Becca and no one could ever understand why I loved them. I had to remind myself: they aren't real.

Low moaning drifted down the hallway.

"Help me…"

I peered into the abyss.

More groans. "Please…"

The light switch on the wall didn't work, so I used a flash-light to check the rooms. Beside a bed, marinating in blood, Nate groaned in pain. He'd been badly hurt, but he was alive. Bleeding pockets from a hatchet dented his flesh.

I rushed to gather towels to stop the bleeding.

"You're getting… quicker…" he moaned. "Caught her… this time…"

"What the blazes in goin' on?!"

"She wants… you alone…"

"She isn't real. She doesn't want anything. She only thinks she wants to live and we can't both survive my mind."

"No… She's got… the kids…"

"Impossible!"

"I can… pull someone… through the astral plane… dimensions… even death… She took my powers… Rogue, I'm sorry… I couldn't stop her…"

.::.

Rogue stood at the front of a crowded room. With the spotlight in her eyes, the crowd appeared as eerie haloed shadows. She knew she'd have to speak and knew she couldn't. Everyone was going to watch her make an idiot of herself. But up the stairs she walked – waving, smiling.

"…my honor to present the life-time achievement award," Tony Stark was saying, "to Rogue!"

The crowd leapt to their feet, thunderous applause filling her ears. She accepted the trophy and smiled at the eerie shadows. When her eyes crossed Gambit and a teenaged Abel, both grinning loop-sided, tears threatened to overwhelm her. Her smile was for them.

A shadowed man grabbed Abel and dragged him away. No one seemed to notice and when Rogue pointed, they only cheered. She screamed but had no voice. Abel vanished out the door.

.::.

"She's burning up, Remy," Rogue whispered in the dark.

"I'll wake Oli," he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Take 'm to the ER."

"Oli's fine! Ah'll take her, you stay here with him."

"You're sick. Ain't thinkin' straight. Go back t' sleep."

He wasn't taking my kids!

I fell down the basement stairs and tumbled through darkness. Unsheltered by any kind of rail, I rolled off the wooden steps, hit my head on a post, and fell flat on the cement floor. Of course, it wasn't smooth, either, but littered with empty cans, a tool-box, and mechanical parts.

"Mommy!"

We were no longer in Logan's cabin basement. We'd been moved to an underground lair. Although shadows obscured the edges, I knew instantly where we were – Magneto's Antarctic base.

So this is where you brought me?

Chapter Seven

Overhead, a shrill bell warned of impending classes, and the student body moved en masse to their homerooms. Rogue carefully danced through the sea of bodies, subconsciously avoiding skin contact, and also mindful not to spill her coffee.

Blindfold gracefully intercepted her, clutching her books to her chest. "Rogue?"

"Yes," she answered. She'd forgotten that the young girl's blindfold wasn't a handicap, and relaxed, trusting her not to make skin contact. "What is it, Ruth?"

"I… You were right. Not to."

Rogue paused for a moment, thinking. Her life hadn't been tempered with caution, but she'd been hesitant about having a child. Kailin finally made the choice for her. Sometimes, Rogue still dreamed of her beautiful ivory and blue face emerging from the river. No more inclined towards regret than she was towards hesitation, she still found comfort in Ruth's encouragement. In spite of herself, she wrapped her arms around Ruth's shoulders and held her.

"Thank ya, sug."

Ruth awkwardly patted Rogue's back and silently slipped into the classroom.

Rogue decided to throw out the pop quizzes, to everyone's immense relief. Broo offered a submission of more challenging questions for the next round, sparking a collective and focused riot. He nobly tried to persuade them, only giving up the cause when Idie tearfully complained about her workload. His black, beady little eyes overwhelmed with despair. Such sorrow, such defeat; Rogue had only seen black eyes that transparent once, and it was during her darkest hour.

Wary of Ruth's psychic abilities, she quickly turned their attention to the subject of the day: restoration of Europe following WWII.

Kid Gladiator yawned obnoxiously and sighed, "Useless! The Shi'ar does not restore its inferiors. It enslaves them!"

"Excellent point!" Rogue clapped the chalk off her fingers. "Why is this important to you?"

Broo saw the opportunity for an essay and just couldn't contain himself. She declined but perhaps the threat motivated the other students, who were uncommonly vocal.

"It was a hundred years ago and on the other side of the planet," argued Rockslide. "I don't think it means anything to me. Does it?"

Quentin rolled his eyes. "Only if the dollar's dependency on the Euro means nothing to you."

"I know what it means to me," Idie offered, "Before World War II, Nigeria was a British colony. Afterwards, we were granted independence. I think Europe recognized that you can't force your ideology on others."

"A lesson lost on Wolverine every day-" Quentin spread his arms in mock revelation, "-here at Jean Grey School for Higher Learning!"

Everyone laughed: an infectious symphony that calmed her nerves more than wine.

.::.

Snow crunched beneath my bare feet as I rushed to the kids. Sobbing, freezing, they fought each other for my attention – screaming monkeys battling for my body warmth, clawing my flesh.

My imposture wore my burgundy and yellow Shi'ar spacesuit, arms crossed defiantly. Like she lived here!

"Ah don't know why you're so much tougher than the others," she replied.

"'Cause Ah got something to fight for."

She examined me with cruel indifference. I was an ant beneath her magnifying glass; an armadillo between her lioness teeth. "You know you're a ghost."

'You're sick. Go back to sleep.'

"Your survival instinct created them," she said. "You're a hero, hun, Ah'll give you that. Always cared more about others than yourself. So you wrapped your memories with mine."

I held them as their little bodies weakened. Panic rose from their mouths – I think they knew. Children know as much as anyone about death. My arms willed my soul to theirs so we could ascend together, but they passed away in a rush of sand and ash – their voices still sharp on the wind.

"They're illusions!" She threw her hands up. "We're goin' in circles again. Ah don't know why you're so-! You do realize you're a ghost? An echo. You're not alive, either."

"Then why don't you kill me?"

"Because Ah don't want you to die…" Her sorrowful green eyes yearned for answers. "You took me in when Ah was just a kid. Ah was nothin' to you. Maybe Renie saw what I'd be one day, but – you could've waited till Ah was worth the trouble. You didn't. And Ah know you're not all good, Mystique, but you're not all bad, either."

"Bull-shit!" But my mind saw similarities between Oli and Graydon.

"You adapt to survive – always have. When you realized Ah was the only one who'd survive, you became me. Got so good at hiding that you don't even know where you go anymore." She gently grasped my shoulders. "It's okay, momma. You don't have to be afraid."

Irene furiously berated me: "I didn't make you sleep with him! I didn't pump you full of pills!"

Pregnant with Creed's bastard, I'd suffered a botched abortion and then attempted suicide. The sleeping pills were only one part, the other was… the river. I watched my own ivory and blue face lifted from the serene black waters.

Standing beside Tony Stark, I watched helplessly as Xavier abducted my baby. My Rogue. Irene clapped and smiled, oblivious to my turmoil.

"Would you ever want one of your own?" she asked.

Yes, I would. But that bastard Baron buried his seed in me and then sacrificed me to the fury of the mob. I loved my baby! I wanted him more than I wanted life! But when forced to choose between the river and the torches, I thought 'I should've never been a mother!' When my baby grew into an ostentatious aberration who detested me, I thought 'he should never have been born!' That's why I'd returned to the river so many years later to drown Creed's spawn. I knew the sort of fruit my loins produced and they weren't worth the trouble.

The screen door slammed shut on our latest argument. I stormed out, Rogue hot on my heels. My hand still stung, as did her face, no doubt. I needed space and time alone to prevent a homicide, but my quick-tempered teenaged daughter would allow for neither. At the edge of the drive, I dove into the river and went for a swim. It was dark and she was terrified of gators. I didn't think she'd follow, but she did. The currents weren't too powerful but I heard her struggling to keep pace. At least she'd shut her insipid mouth!

I tried to lose her around the bend by turning against the current. She wasn't a strong swimmer and by now was panting hard. If she drowned, Renie would never let me hear the end of it!

Drained of my earlier rage, I pulled myself onto a neighboring dock. She leapt out like a frog, hugging her knees and shivering uncontrollably. Her teeth chattered behind white lips. It was summer – the water wasn't cold, but the gators were in mating season and unusually aggressive. I wanted to hear her say she trembled with fear. I wanted her to feel ashamed.

"What's wrong, Rogue?"

"You treat me like a child!" She spat, rattling helplessly. "Ah can do anything you can do!"

"Hardly. But I've had decades of training."

"Give me a decade and watch. Ah'll be just like you!"

I was taken aback. "Is that what you want?"

Rogue stroked my copper hair. "We both know how this ends."

"We're reaching the end," said Nate. "The nearer it gets, the less time we have."

"Nate Grey?" I said. "But he's dead. Isn't he? I don't-"

"Your mind's deteriorating," she explained impatiently. "It's not gonna make sense."

Somewhere, a silver coin was spinning like a top.

"Mommy!" Becca and Oli leapt into their mother's arms. "Daddy didn't kidnap us! He lied to Sinister all along!"

With tears of joy flowing, she instructed them to find safety and went to confront the supervillain. She found Gambit instead. Or – she thought she'd found him. He embraced her warmly before plunging a dagger into her gut. As he left her to die – young and alone – her lover finally found her.

"No regrets," she wanted to tell him. "I'd do it all again."

The coin toppled and lost balance.

"The warhead's been detonated!" Abel shouted. "Fly me up there! I can disarm it!"

She didn't need to steal his memories to know he was lying. He'd been training for years and if it meant sacrificing his life to save the world, he'd do it. So she left him behind – cursing her name to the heavens. She knocked the warhead off-course and carried it into deep space, where it would cause limited damage. There wasn't time to retreat before it exploded.

No regrets.

I died for her – like I died for Oli and Becca and Abel. Don't tell me they weren't real. You weren't there; you don't know. I'd abandoned Greydon and Kurt, but I wouldn't fail Rogue. My death touched every cell of her body, and I imagine it felt like love.

"Rogue…" Xavier bellowed softly. "When the coin falls, you will awake. You will remember nothing. You will be whole."

The End