A/N: I know it's been a while and I have literally have so many other stories so fully developed but if anything has motivated me to write lately, current events have. I can't help but feel a need to share something that's been swirling in my mind for a while now (and as always I will do my best to continue other stories I've started and you've been so kind to check out). Thanks to anyone who's ever read or reviewed and please enjoy (Irene is also canon in SOME reality, the one in Captain Marvel: The End)

"That was your old life. Gambit. You are someone else now. You are death." He clutches white hair, fighting to fade back to brass like it should be. He'd been so foolish to think his efforts would matter. He thought Rogue's anxious ramblings didn't compare to the horrors he'd seen in his life (some he'd taken part of). He would dance in the darkness for her sake and put his callous ways to use. His seed overtook him easily, and the X-Men gained one of their fiercest enemies: Death.

She should've hated him too. Written him off like it'd been so easy for everyone else to do. Known that he'd always been destined to bring them heartache. All Rogue knew was that the person in her head and in her heart was not the black-skinned demon in front of them. She knows he had the best of intentions even if they led here, and like she had before she'd forgive him. Absolve him. Purify him.

"G-Go on, girl..." A rare sliver of humanity remains as the X-Men struggle to banish En Sabah Nur at the foot of his pyramids. His hands reach out for her like jagged claws, half wanting to hold and kill her. The southern goth has not given up on him, tears shining beneath silver bangs as the sky tears open. Nothing scared her anymore, and she'd never been so sure she was where she was supposed to be. "Before you get killed!" 'Don' ruin your life too...'

"No!"

"ROGUE," Scott's nearly pulled out of his girlfriend and Logan's arms, into a vortex that is miraculously sparing their teammate.

"Ah won't leave! Remy!"

'Stupid girl...' He'd lived his whole life walking the line of no return. This is what he deserved, not her. "Rogue..." She throws her body around him in defiance and the dark seed finally relinquishes its hold. She hears others shouting for her in the background but it doesn't matter. His hair fades from white back to normal, and his eyes black and red. Slowly, his own thoughts returned to his head. 'S-She-'

"Gambit-"

"Tell me again, mama..." It was her favorite story to tell the other girls. If the stories of Scott and Jean (the impossibly beautiful redheaded princess painted in the parlor) were Romeo and Juliet, then her parents were Snow White and the Prince. They escaped many evils and demons and one demented stepmother to fight for their forever. And they got it.

And Irene Lebeau. The spitting image of her mother (with skin that held pigment) and eyes just like her thief father. Like coals simmering in midnight. Wolverine's new pain in the ass and an equal momma & daddy's girl. Where the pair beat the odds and came together over what they never had, they made sure she always had it. Clarity, honesty, and more love and support than one kid could ever know what to do with. A life very separate of her parents' superhero lives.

The X-Men men were hundreds strong and set out all over the world and in different factions and teams (many assembled and trained by Logan).

There is no need like there was previously for children to be on the frontlines of the threats to earth. Irene's first job is to be a child and to enjoy herself. Make peaceful memories and long friendships that fulfill her. A happy (scrawny like someone else the whiskered man remembered) fourteen year old enjoying her life and identity. "About how you and daddy met..." Rogue can see the stars in her daughter's eyes.

"Oh Irene..." She sits back, as pale as cottony clouds rolling by as she continues gazing at the sky with her offspring sitting close beside her. Always together when she wasn't chasing after hew New Recruits or in the Danger Room. Her looks haven't changed since she absorbed the Kree Avenger. Her hair is still straight and short, how she's always kept it tucked behind a pierced ear. Her daughter's is wild and tangled as she sits in a denim shirt that looks like Remy's, her own silver streak glinting in the sun. "That story takes so long to get positive..." She wonders if she should've told it at all, she just couldn't lie to her mini-me.

"But it's so good." Perfect for the two rambunctious southerners that sired her. She could listen to it over and over again.

"Well, for starters... Your daddy made a lot of mistakes..." The older mutant said with a smirk. There was once a time where she never imagined this could be possible. Not for her. "But, so did Ah..." 'We must've always been meant for each other.'

"You're stalling."

"Ah'm about to go to an hour long Danger Room class, so Ah can't get caught up." It feels cruel holding up team things with her lazy, domestic life (the one Cyclops and another mutant were robbed off). If they joke about her being removed from the team altogether she might consider it. "You know how it goes anyway..."

"You're a good story-teller!" The girl laughs in a green sweater that hangs off of her (probably once her mother's) as Rogue gently picked her curls apart, resembling a nest she was familiar with. She thinks of something to respond with, smiling with dark lipstick until her leader appears at the opening of the roof. At first, she thinks his tight expression is because she is once again lolly-gagging with her kid (she and Gambit had both been threatened with write-ups). But then it seems the Danger Room may be skipped for a mission.

"Ah gotta go, squirt." She tries to hide her uneasy feelings but her daughter is as sharp as she was that age. She ruffles messy hair and holds a smile, gazing at the thing she loved most on planet earth. "Uncle Scott's in a mood,"

"He's ALWAYS in a mood..." But the youth pouts, wondering how her mother had been friends with such an uptight man. He'd had a stormy look on his face, and that usually predated danger. Danger that her mom and probably both parents got dragged into. All while keeping her and the other kids out of the loop (institute policy). "Momma?" Still, the girl's restained pleading gets Rogue's full attention when she calls for her above all else. She fiddled with overgrown, emerald sleeves. "Tell me, about her..." Her eyes are focused past her on a squirrel lazing unsually long on the yard.

Irene saw things all the time, but she won't pile on to her saint of a mother's stress (she juggled the responsibilities of a hundred). "Irene-"

"Mystique?" She regrets saying her name when she sees the look the follows on her face, one she still can't hide after all this time. Deep down, they both know it's only a matter of time before she shows her crazy (and the girl knows even if she doesn't remember she probably already has).

"Ah told ya what you should know. The rest," She moved white hair out of the girl's eyes and stifled a sigh. "When you're older. Be good, you hear?"

"Yes, mama. Sorry, Scott." He only unclenches to nod at the girl, his nature more of a result of the news he's discovered than how he feels about either of them. He waits for his shorter teammate to follow after him as he walks briskly to the War Room.

"Sorry," He says, remembering when the goth would be disgusted by his desires for children and a family. "Know you prefer babysitting rather than the tactical work you're known for..." There is a warmth and even wistfulness that she hears in his voice. He sure never thought they'd be there.

"Laugh it up, Summers."