Disclaimer: I only own this story, as in the plot and dialogue, but not the characters or the source material. Please don't sue me, Marvel. I love your comics so much.

Author's Notes: Alright, enough of the cheesy cliffhangers…maybe.


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Teetering
Chapter Seven







I blinked.

Several times.

And nothing.

Blind.

To be without sight.

Did I still have my powers?

It's such an interesting contrast. I enjoy the nights – the setting of the sun and the departure of the light makes me calm, gives me clarity. It's when I'm most at ease with everything in the world.

But not being able to see at all…nothing in the world scares me more.

When my powers first manifested, I was forced to (coincidentally enough) wear a bandage around my head. It was a scary time.

Young and alone with no family to go to, nowhere to run to, and suddenly laser beams start firing out of my eyes. Only a schizophrenic wouldn't have been scared to death.

Then the literal light at the end of the tunnel appeared for me, and I was granted my vision back. It was tainted, of course, forever bathed in red, but it was sight nonetheless.

I was confused at first. Confused and frightened.

But the Professor told me, showed me what it was. What I was.

And there were more like me.

I think that's what was most attractive about the Professor's dream, about the Institute and what it stood for. I didn't want anyone to feel the same way that I had to.

On the really bad days, I wonder how I manage to swallow that tripe.

At that exact moment, I couldn't say if that was my feeling. It just seemed like God was playing a cruel, sick joke on me.

"Did you hear what I just said?"

I blinked hard, useless as it was, and cocked my head to the voice's direction. "No, sorry. Just got a little side-tracked."

"Understandable in your situation," the Professor said. "But I'm proud of you, Scott. You're taking this quite well."

I carefully shrugged. "Must be the shock," I murmured.

"Scott, I've called Hank and asked him to come down here. I'm sure he can provide a perfectly rational explanation for your…difficulties." Translation: blindness.

It was my turn to sigh. It was all I could do – sigh - and maybe try to relax. I tried to maintain my calm, which was nowhere near an easy task. Ororo propped me up in the bed, so I was delicately trying to maintain perfect stillness as well. If I so much as took too deep a breath, my chest would feel the same way my head did when we fought Juggernaut, when he nearly crushed my skull in his hand. I needed some aspirin. Or maybe morphine. Or both.

"Do you still want to know how she's doing?"

"Huh? Who? What?"

"I was just answering your previous question, the one you asked before this…happened."

"Rogue," I whispered.

Rogue.

Rogue.

Rogue.

RogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogue
RogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogue
RogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogue
RogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogueRogue

ROGUE!


"Get down!" I shouted at her. Glass shattered somewhere near the car.

"Wh—why?"

Shatter.

"Just do it." I reached over and pushed the back of her head. She finally got the idea and folded herself in two, practically kissing her knees.

Shatter.

I watched her head turn up to look at me, her beautiful pale face seeming to stand out more than anything. She didn't look scared, just unsure. I looked into her eyes, those dark swirling pools that I wanted to drown in. They betrayed her thoughts, telling me how she felt. Wide and bright, I stared straight into them. They were beautiful, her eyes. I think she once told me that they were green. I tried hard to picture her in my mind with green eyes. I somehow manage to do it, but it gets more difficult with every passing day. 'The eyes are the gateway to the soul,' or the saying goes. Looking into those eyes of hers, I knew that she trusted me to get her through this thing safely.

Shatter.

Or that's what I translated it to mean. The intense fury of the moment and the fact that they were
just eyes made it hard for to know for sure.

Shatter.

"It'll be okay," I mouthed to her.

Shatter.

She nodded but her eyes stayed the same.

Shatter.



Again, I tried to get out of the bed. It would have been easier this time since I was sitting up, but awkward because of my inability to see.

That occurred to me a split second after moving – how was I supposed to get anywhere when I couldn't see anything?

Only for a split second, though. The fact that I probably shouldn't have moved at all overtook anything else I may have been thinking at the time.

So yeah, it would have been easier to get up and out of bed with my back propped up against a mound of pillows and the wall.
But the cushioning didn't make it hurt any less than it did before when I tried to move.

I bit down hard on my tongue as I fell backwards, breathing in rapid-fire bursts.

"I…have…got…to…stop…doing…that…"

"Scott, relax, please," the Professor begged. His voice was strained, his tone made him sound as if he were in pain. His voice reflected how I felt – like we had just pushed a ten-ton boulder up a hill.

"Oh," I breathed. "Uh…Was I, uh…projecting my thoughts?"

I couldn't see what my mental barrage had done to the Professor, but I pictured him slumped in his chair, rubbing his temples. The idea made me smile a little, in spite of all the pain.

"Quite loudly. As for the object of your broadcasted thoughts, Rogue is doing quite fine. She suffered only a few minor scrapes in the accident. It was more shock than anything."

And that was that.

With that handful of words, the rain stopped, the clouds parted, and the sun started shining down.

"Rogue is doing quite fine."

I let out a sigh of relief, my shouldered burden disappearing.

"If anything had happened to her, I'd never forgive myself…" I murmured softly.

"She's lucky to have someone care for her so deeply," Ororo said. "We all are. You certainly gave us a scare."

I smiled. I didn't care. Nothing else mattered but Rogue.

I must have said that last thought out loud, otherwise my euphoria might have lasted a tiny bit longer.

"Not even your car?"

I sighed. "My car?"

"Gone. I'm sorry, Scott."

"Well what was the point of bringing up the car if you were just going to tell me it were demolished?"

I didn't say that out loud, of course.

"Don't be sorry," I said instead. "I'm sure it's the only reason why Rogue and I are alive."

"We have what we could salvage from of it in the garage. You may…examine it later."

It didn't require super-hearing to notice the pause there. I was silently grateful for the Professor's carefully chosen vocabulary. Something as basic as changing the phrasing of something here and there shouldn't have been important to me, but as is so often the case, it's the little things that count.

Besides, the Professor's always known I've been sensitive about my eyes. I can almost be as bad as a girl when it comes to that.

"What about the eyes that did this? Anything on them?"

"No, unfortunately. And the only witness to the incident was a trucker who came upon you shortly after it occurred. If he hadn't called for an ambulance…well, I will just say he's a great part of why you're still alive."

"Good to know there's still decent people in the world."

The Professor let out an annoyed breath. "You know that isn't true, Scott."

I held my tongue and wisely steered the subject back on topic. I didn't want to have another argument with the Professor about…world issues. "Did the trucker get a good look at the guys that did this?"

"He reported that he saw a vehicle flee the scene upon his arrival, but didn't get a good enough of a look at it, so all the authorities have to work from is a vague and sketchy description of the vehicle they were driving. The police have personally assured me that they will find the miscreants quickly and punish them to the full extent of law."

"Wait a second. Something doesn't add up."

"I don't follow."

"Here. How did I get here if the trucker called for an ambulance? He wasn't a mutant, was he?"

"Oh. No, he was not a mutant. As for your being here, well, let's just say that Hank and I still have some connections in the scientific and doctoral fields. It took little to convince the hospital administrators that you and Rogue would be better under the care of someone who had your best interests in mind."

I nodded slowly, knowing full well what that last part meant. If the life of a mutant were in the hands of a doctor, a doctor bearing ill feelings towards mutants, that one single factor might make the doctor try a little less harder than he normally would.

"How's Rogue?"

"She's fine."

"Didn't I ask that already?"

"Yes, you did."

"I thought so. Thanks."

"For what?"

"For being so patient with me."

"You don't need to thank me for that. You know that I care for you. Everyone here does."

"Yes," Storm chimed in. "You should have seen the procession in here while you were unconscious."

"Even Alvers?"

"Yes, young Lance was one of the first to come down and see you."

"Is that so? I guess I'll just have to be sure to thank him and everyone when you let me up."

"Oh, but you can't go. The fun hasn't yet begun."

A new voice. "Mr. McCoy?" I felt a bit of pride swell up inside of me. Maybe more good news was coming, like I'd be able to see...I don't know, now maybe?

"Indeed," the voice said, that gentle tone from the literal beast of a man. "I am here."

"Well?" I said impatiently.

He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Well..."






********

Forgive me for the third bastard cliffhanger in a row.