Backsliding

[Rogue]

(Totally random inspiration....Heh.)

It was dirty, damp, and smelled horrible. Everything hurt – and (s)he couldn’t understand why, for a moment. Then it all came back.

Betrayed.

Even for them this was a lot. More than expected. (S)he’d never thought they’d let this happen to anyone, to any mutant, even one on the other side of their fight.

What happened to the whole “love and acceptance” crap they spat every time they went recruiting?

And where was(her)his lighter, da*nit?

At least (s)he knew one thing - (s)he’d been right about them…

~

And, suddenly, everything was sterile. Glass, and steel, and cold. A green light seemed to linger over everything like water - thicker, denser than light had any right to be.

Or maybe that was the fluid (s)he was submerged in. Maybe. Either way, (s)he didn't like it. It was unnerving, but there was no need to struggle for breath. It was effortless to breath in this liquid, something that (s)he knew was wrong.

No, no, wait. (S)he wasn't breathing in the water. There was a mask, a mask pumping air. That made more sense. But (s)he still didn't like it, like where this was going.

Raising a hand, (s)he looked at it, at the front, then the back. Lines. Blue-black lines, drawn where the bones belonged. (S)he flexed the fingers, scowling at the lines...trying to recall what lead up to this point...

~

And all of a sudden, (s)he was standing before a gate. People were pushing past, swarming frantically in one direction. (S)he pressed against the crowd, towards...someone. Someone was being taken away - (s)he couldn't let that happen. Not here, not again.


Again? No. This was the first time, and only one. And (s)he wouldn't let it happen.

Metal, twisting, bending, calling out. It was strange, but at the same time, (s)he recognized destiny in that moment.

The end of oppression, of anguish, and fear, and...

~

Agony, ripping, tearing pain. All along those lines, those blue-black lines traced along the bones. Burning, within. As if...as if (s)he was melting, yet getting even more solid. A disturbing sensation.

Screaming. (S)he was screaming.

No, it wasn't a scream, it was an almost feral cry of pain. Angry. Hateful. Vowing vengeance, destruction, on whoever was doing this...


With a jolt, and a brief scream, the girl's green eyes flashed open, and she sat up, untangling herself from the tangled sheets that bound her legs frantically, sliding off her bed to land on the floor, gazing at the lump of white-gray bedding in the darkened room, lit only by the lamp that burned comfortingly in the corner.

She was trembling. For a moment, she simply sat there, trying to collect her scattered thoughts, and piece together what was going on.

She'd dreamed again. Just dreamed, it wasn't real. No, it was, but it wasn't real for her. Never happened to her. None of it.

She had to talk herself into believing that, in the past. Now, it was getting easier to remember that these were not her memories, but ones she'd stolen. Stolen from others, through her powers.

With a mumbled curse, which she wasn't entirely sure was English, but didn’t bother to think much on, she pulled herself to her feet, and grabbed her gloves from the beside table. These were only her training gloves, the wrist-length, thin leather covering her hands but leaving them flexible, so she could still function.

She was already wearing long sleeves, and long pants – she usually did, now-days – so she simply padded from the room, making little noise as she headed downstairs into the kitchen.

Maybe something to drink would help settle her mind. Logan’s psyke muttered something about beer, which John’s psyke readily agreed with. She laughed quietly to herself, as she dug through the fridge, opening the lower drawer and lifting random food-related objects off of the two or three cans she knew were hidden there.

Sure enough, there they were. Someone – Logan, she presumed – had hidden them there, awhile back, and she’d discovered them not long after her powers had resurfaced. Dealing with the chatter in her mind, after so long of silence, had been hard. Drinking seemed to help with that.

And if she was caught, she could always blame it on the voices.

Taking a seat on a stool near the island, she opened the can with gloved fingertips, and took a drink. She didn’t like the taste – to her, it was nasty. But most of the time, it aided in silencing the psykes, or at least making them docile, and their memories dulled, enough for her to sleep. Besides, The alcohol helped her sleep and calmed her own nerves, anyway.

She had taken another drink from the can, when she heard someone entering. She didn’t bother to hide the beer in her hand, simply looking over. Depending on who it was, it wouldn’t be hard to act like Logan, or something like that to cover her tracks.

Her deviousness was a little surprising, even to herself, but she didn’t thing too much of it. When one shared their mind with so many, it was easy to be surprised by things.

(Open)

[Bobby Drake]

Sore and bone-deep tired as he is, Bobby still knows he isn't going to get to sleep any time soon. He never does on these nights, no matter how late he drags himself back into the Institute... he just lies in bed staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours, listening to Josh snore in the other bed, until the world finally ends for a while.

This time, he decides, he might as well just stay up... grab something to eat, take a shower, change out of his mud-splattered clothes, go watch the sun rise or something.

So of course tonight is when Marie decides to camp out in the kitchen. Figures, he thinks, as he stops short in the doorway, trying to decide whether he should turn around or keep going. Hell with it. I'm starved.

"Hey... you're up late," he says as nonchalantly as possible as he walks stiffly and carefully to the fridge. "Everything OK?" He collects a double-armload of sandwich-makings and deposits them on the island, finally noticing what Marie is drinking.

"Since when do you like beer?" Since she started crushing on Logan, he answers himself, but decides to keep his mouth shut for once. They'd been reasonably civil to each other since Warren's party, even if they hadn't quite gotten around to having The Talk yet, and that was better than the constant evasion and the constant fighting that preceded it.

He spreads some spicy brown mustard on a bulkie roll and adds "...and more importantly: do you share?"

[Rogue]

Ah, Bobby. Not really the first person on the list of people she wanted to see - but only because she didn't really know what to expect from him right now.

Better than Hank, or Ororo, or one of the other teachers, though. Way better.

"Hey... you're up late...Everything OK?"

She nodded slightly with a small smile. "Mhmm. Jus'...some pretty disturbin' dreams. Didn' really feel like goin' back t'sleep..." she responded, watching as he dug for the makings of a sandwich, and put them down.

"Since when do you like beer?...and more importantly: do you share?"

She glanced at the can her gloved hand was still wrapped around, and smirked slightly, returning her eyes to him.

"Don' really like it, acctually. Tastes nasty. But it calms th'folks "upstairs" a li'll...

She shrugged one shoulder a little, before continuing, grin crossing her face. "An' there's a few more cans in the fridge, in th'second drawer, und'r a bunch'a stuff... Go for it - I won' tell if you don'."

[Bobby Drake]

> "But it calms th'folks "upstairs" a li'll..."

It takes Bobby a little while to figure out what she's referring to, and when he does he's surprised she referred to it at all. He'd worked out in the months since Boston that when folks were seriously hit by Marie's whammy they left a trace of their personality behind, but she's never really talked about it before.

It occurs to him suddenly that after his infirmary stay, he's one of the "folks upstairs". That's exceptionally weird. Him, and Logan, and Magneto, and... John.

He busies himself with his sandwich for a few moments... roast beef, cheddar, black olives, pickles, spinach, horseradish. Yeah, that looks good. Putting everything back in the fridge distracts him for a little while longer, as does searching for the beer and opening one.

When he's done, Marie is still there, and the conversation is still hanging where it was before, and finally he goes ahead and asks.

"What's it like? The folks upstairs, I mean. Like, do they actually talk to you, or each other? Is it like reading minds? " He tries hard, and mostly unsuccessfully, not to sound anxious about the answer.

[Rogue]

For awhile, it was almost uncomfortably silent, as he finished the preparation of his food, and got his own beer out. She wasn't sure what was on his mind, and she wasn't sure what to expect him to say next he spoke.

"What's it like? The folks upstairs, I mean. Like, do they actually talk to you, or each other? Is it like reading minds? "[/color]

Well, that wasn't what she'd expected, for sure, but it wasn't the worst thing that came to mind. Simply something neither of them ever talked about, not with eachother, at least. It wasn't something she usually mentioned to anyone - the professor, back in the day, but even then, only when he brought it up.

"It's...like they're totally seperate people fr'm y'all, once they get up here. Same personalities an' all, but they don' change with th' real people. They stay th'same way they were, until I absorb th'person 'gain. It kin'a...updates 'em, I guess."

She shrugged a little, took another drink, and set the can down, wiping the condensation off her gloved hands onto her pajama pants, and looking back at him.

"They talk a lot, more when I'm stressed, o'when I've ignored 'em f'awhile. T'me, t'eachother, t'themselves...I'm not sure, sometimes. Gets a li'll crazy, when they all go at it a'the same time. S'like they're all real people, still. Still got emotions, thoughts, opinions... Jus' missin' a body, an' shoved int'my head."

She grinned wryly, and took another drink, then looked at the can for a moment.

"Eith'r this stuff's strong, o'I'm a lightweight..."

[Bobby Drake]

> Same personalities an' all, but they don' change with th' real people. They stay th'same way they were,

And isn't that a creepy thought, when Bobby considers what gyrations his own psyche has gone through since then. Or has he actually changed as much as he thinks he has? It's really hard to tell, there's no real basis for comparison. Well... except maybe talking to the version in Marie's head, but that was just too weird to contemplate.

Not to mention both him and John being in there, which... yeesh. He so doesn't want to think about that. Though without bodies, maybe it's not so... maybe it's not the same.

He takes a bite of his sandwich and chews it thoughtfully as she describes how vocal her shadow-psyches are.

"So... what've I been sayin'?" The question slips out before he has a chance to censor it.

[Rogue]

"So... what've I been sayin'?"[/color]

She smiled at the question.

"Righ' now, y'think I shouldn' b'drinkin'....That y'sandwich looks good..." she shrugged, "Y'one'a the quietes' ones. Not s'obnoxious an' annoyin'... I guess y'try t'keep th'res' quieter, an' keep 'em from suggestin' stupid things, mos'a the time. You an' Cody."

Remarkable, she mused, how the only two guys she'd ever dated were so alike. Sweet, mild-mannered, for the most part... Not the "bad-boy" type at all. Safe?

She'd never reallly taken a moment to compare them before, and it was a little weird to discover how alike they were, though she wasn't sure what that meant, if anything.

She shrugged a little, half at her thoughts, and half simply as prelude to her next statement

"I think th'mos' annoyin' psykes, th'ones I'd rather b'rid of w'd be Logan, John, an' Magneto. They're th'ones tha've been givin' meh th' nightmares."

[Bobby Drake]

Marie's response throws him a little... it actually comes out as a compliment, of sorts. Of course, being less obnoxious than the collection of psychopaths she's got in there isn't saying much, but it's still something.

He pops open a beer and raises it to Marie in a toasting gesture. "Well, you can tell Little Bobby in there that he should stop giving you crap about the beer. And if he's nice y'all can have a bite of my sandwich."

He tries to cover up the awkward silence that falls by concentrating on his sandwich, and his beer -- she's right, it does taste nasty, but not half as bad as the Jack Daniels -- but eventually that tactic fails.

"As for the rest of the crowd... hell, I'd have thought Logan'd be protecting you in there. Nightmares about what? And, um... so, are you planning on going in for another dose?"

[Rogue]

"Well, you can tell Little Bobby in there that he should stop giving you crap about the beer. And if he's nice y'all can have a bite of my sandwich." [/color]

She grinned. "Well. He jus' got real quiet...A li'll too quiet... Y'know, I think he's sulkin' f'bein' told not t'talk about m'drinkin' by Real!Bobby." she responded with a small laugh.

"As for the rest of the crowd... hell, I'd have thought Logan'd be protecting you in there. Nightmares about what?[/color]

She smiled slightly with a shrug. "He does, sometimes. B't I don' think he's tryin'a bug me - he jus' doesn' seem t' realize it." she shrugged, and paused for a moment, before finishing the response to his second question.

"Th'nightmares...Magneto lived through th'holocaust. Did y'know tha'? I didn', not 'till I absorbed 'im. S'why he believes what 'e does s'strongly. I keep dreamin' 'bout what he wen' through. Logan's nightmares're confusin', but it's got t'do with whenev'r he got th'adamantium in 'is bones. John's..."

She paused, tipping her head to one side, eyes on he countertop as she pondered what snippits she'd dreamed that related to Pyro.

"'M not entirely sure what it is I got fr'm John. It's recent, though. I saw 'im, not tha' long ago. He touch'd m', 'cause he thought I w's still cured, an' I got a li'll from 'im. It's...pretty foggy, b't I'm sure it's aft'r Alcatraz, sometime."

"And, um... so, are you planning on going in for another dose?"

She glanced up for a moment, wondering. She was assuming he meant the Cure - but she hadn't thought about it much. She'd presumed it wouldn't be an option, that they weren't producing it anymore...

And even if she did get it, wouldn't it wear of again? She'd unsuspectingly hurt Bobby, last time - she could have done worse. Could do worse, if that happened again...

"I...hadn't really thought about it." she responded simply, tone uncertian.

[Bobby Drake]

> "I think he's sulkin' f'bein' told not t'talk about m'drinkin' by Real!Bobby."

Bobby laughs. "Yeah, well, he can sulk all he wants. Let he who is without sin, and all that. And believe me, he doesn't want to know what he's been up to since waking up." He pauses a second, not quite believing he just said that. "And, by the way, this is officially the most surreal conversation I've ever been in."

> "Magneto lived through th'holocaust. Did y'know tha'?"

"No, I didn't... wow. He doesn't seem old enough... that was like in the 40s, right? He must've been, like, our age... or younger? " He wonders if Magneto is Jewish... not that the Jews were the only ones the Nazis put in camps. Gypsies, Jews, homosexuals... anyone noticably different.

It's weird thinking about Magneto as a kid, before everything. And yeah, it makes some sense that anyone who lived through that would go nutso about mutant registration and camps and stuff. Maybe he's even right... maybe the U.S. government really is pulling the same kinds of shit as the Germans did back then, and needs to be stopped.

Which doesn't make him right about everything else, he reminds himself. Maybe going after the Cure manufacturing plant was sensible -- though even then, the Professor's approach made a lot more sense -- but that Liberty Island stunt was just crazy. It's like with that cat-guy in the mall... there's gotta be a better answer than starting a race war.

> "'M not entirely sure what it is I got fr'm John. It's recent, though. I saw 'im, not tha' long ago. He touch'd m', 'cause he thought I w's still cured, an' I got a li'll from 'im. It's...pretty foggy, b't I'm sure it's aft'r Alcatraz, sometime."

Bobby stops short at that, not quite knowing what to say. Something atavistic and territorial pulses through him at the thought of her and John sneaking off to... touch each other. Which is not only absurdly hypocritical, it's just plain absurd: he and Marie aren't dating anymore, and whatever it is he and John have going it isn't the sort of thing that allows for jealousy, is it? Let it go, Drake, before you say something you'll regret. Except he can't. Because leaving all of the absurd jealousy aside, he still needs to know how much Marie knows, because not knowing if she knows is going to drive him nuts.

"Oh," he says finally. "I, um... didn't realize you and John were still, um, in touch." He stares at the last few bits of his sandwich and finally decides to eat them. "So, um... what did you guys talk about?"

[Rogue]

"Yeah, well, he can sulk all he wants. Let he who is without sin, and all that. And believe me, he doesn't want to know what he's been up to since waking up."[/color]

"Oh, great, get 'im interested in th'outside conv'sation again..." she responded playfully, with a grin. It was amazing how easily she was talking with him. She hadn't talked with him like this since...since before Alkali, really. After that, everything had gotten complicated.

"And, by the way, this is officially the most surreal conversation I've ever been in."[/color]

She laughed slightly, shaking her head. "Guess s'crazier t'you than me, huh? Since w'talkin' 'bout part'a you. F'me, s'jus' talkin' 'bout "the voices in m'head". Always makes m'feel like people get th'wrong idea, though, an' think 'M crazy."

She wasn't. She was too sane to be crazy. Too unfortunately sane for the freedom to believe in illusions and imaginary friends and the like.

No, I didn't... wow. He doesn't seem old enough... that was like in the 40s, right? He must've been, like, our age... or younger?

"Mhm, thirteen...I think..." she responded, "Fr'm his mem'ries, his psyke, I almos' agree with 'is ideas. Not his methods, though. S'jus' not...gonna all work out if w'jus' sit here, an' keep quiet..."

This was pretty much the first time she'd ever voiced her opinion no the human/mutant interaction going on. And, truthfully, if it weren't for the warlike tendancies Magneto displayed, the killing, she very well may have joined him, too.

Then again, she mused, he'd tried to kill her once before. It was highly likely she'd only end up being a pawn, a means to an end, for him again.

"Oh, I, um... didn't realize you and John were still, um, in touch. So, um... what did you guys talk about?"

He seemed decidedly uncomfortable as he said this, and Rogue tilted her head a little, eyeing him a moment, before responding, wondering where that discomfort had come from.

"W'not, not really. Jus' ran int' 'im...._{in a bar}..." the last part was said in a mumble, as she realized how bad that sounded, mentioning going to a bar casually, as if it were normal, at her age, even as she now sat here and drank a beer in the middle of the kitchen of a school where alcohol was "forbidden".

"Um. Yeah, w'didn' really talk 'bout much. He was jus'...bein' an ass, mos'a the time, really. We wen' an' got ice cream...I jus' kin'a want'd t'know what he'd b'n up t', see if I c'd convince him t'stop thinkin'a me as the enemy, y'know? I still c'nside'r him a friend."

She paused for only a moment, her next words coming out almost worridly.

"I think...I think he w's someplace bad, after Alcatraz. The memories I did get..." She shook her head slightly. "They're confusin', but it's bad. Vera unpleasan'...S'all I'm sure'a."

[Warren Worthington III]

> "Guess s'crazier t'you than me, huh? Since w'talkin' 'bout part'a you"

"Not... crazy, exactly. Just... weird. I mean, I guess it's not really all that different from you finding an old diary of mine or something. Embarassing as hell, yeah, but... " he shrugs, apologetically. "It just takes some getting used to, is all."

> "Fr'm his mem'ries, his psyke, I almos' agree with 'is ideas. Not his methods, though. S'jus' not...gonna all work out if w'jus' sit here, an' keep quiet..."

Bobby nods. "Yeah, I agree with that much, but... I dunno, from where I sit it seems like he wants to set up the same kind of deal, 'xcept with mutants on top. It's as if the Jews decided, after the Holocaust, to take over the world and put all the gentiles in concentration camps... those can't be the only choices, can they? " He'd intended it to be a rhetorical question, but it didn't come out that way. He shakes his head... part of him wants to launch into his standard speech about the Mutant Containment Camps and the abuses there and the need to do something about them, but the fact is he's sore and tired and just doesn't have the energy.

> "W'not, not really. Jus' ran int' 'im....in a bar..."

Bobby chuckles at the barely audible end of that sentence, then puts it together with his own encounter with John, and the TV announcement. "Mimi's? Yeah, guess he hung out there a lot. He and Magneto burned it down later, did you hear? " He carefully doesn't mention his subsequent encounter with John there, though he feels like a louse for not doing so.

> "I think...I think he w's someplace bad, after Alcatraz."

"Yeah... the camps. And afterwards, I think, too... on the streets, at Mimi's. He wasn't so clear about that, but it didn't sound good."

It comes out of his mouth without thinking, and he only realizes after the fact that he gave away more than he'd intended to. And continuing to keep his whatever-it-is with John a secret feels more and more like a lie with every word that comes out of his mouth, but that doesn't stop him from hastily trying to change the subject. "Marie, we've got to do something about that! I tried to talk Sheppard into moving against them... with our powers we could document what the guards are doing, gather evidence, bring the whole lot of them to trial or at least threaten them with publicity and make them clean up their damned act... but he wimped out. Warren at least tried, but no joy." He shrugs. "We need to do something to get back at those assholes, and there's got to be a way to do it within the law... doesn't there?But I'm all out of clever ideas." He drains the last of his beer, and gives a mock salute to his shadow in Marie's head.

[Rogue]

"Not... crazy, exactly. Just... weird. I mean, I guess it's not really all that different from you finding an old diary of mine or something. Embarassing as hell, yeah, but... It just takes some getting used to, is all."[/i]

Rogue nodded slightly, with a wry smile. “I try t’avoid lookin’ int’ the mem’ries, especally when I firs' get ‘em. I feel guilty if I see things I shouldn’. Especially if I looked intentionally, lat'r on. Makes it mo’like th’readin’ th’diary thing. Th’nightmares’re mo’like…someone readin’ y’diary t’me, against m’will. Same with th'ones tha' I can' help b't see - usually bad ones, o'really importan' ones...”

She grinned slightly, and took another drink, again making a face, then looking over at him thoughtfully after a moment.

“Y’pretty much the only one I’ve talked t’about this, y’know. You an’ Xavier, back in th’day. B’t he wasn’ up thare, s’he jus’ seem’d t’pity me.”

“…..It's as if the Jews decided, after the Holocaust, to take over the world and put all the gentiles in concentration camps... those can't be the only choices, can they? "

“Mmm. No. Don’ think so, an’way. B’t th’idea tha’ w’ever gonna be accepted as w’are, in our lifetimes…” she trailed off and smiled slightly. “I don’ see it happenin’.”

"Mimi's? Yeah, guess he hung out there a lot. He and Magneto burned it down later, did you hear? "

“Nah, didn’. Dang. Only place Ah’ve foun’ tha’ don’ mind servin’ minors…” she responded, half-playfully, hoping she could divert attention from the growing unease Magneto’s return to …whatever he was was causing her. She didn’t want to deal with another of his schemes, his attacks, his general insufferable “superiority”. Bad enough she had Early!Magneto in her head, she didn’t want to think about New-and-improved!Magneto, too.

"Yeah... the camps. And afterwards, I think, too... on the streets, at Mimi's. He wasn't so clear about that, but it didn't sound good."

At mention of the camps, Rogue’s forehead furrows slightly, her eyes drifting to gaze sightlessly at the countertop a moment. Images. Flashes of memories shooting across her vision, unseen, yet there nonetheless.

”Camps. Mhm, tha’s it…” she mumbled, almost absently. She didn’t catch his mention of speaking to John, really, didn’t pay attention. “Think tha’s where th’mem’ries’re from.”

"Marie, we've got to do something about that! I tried to talk Sheppard into moving against them... with our powers we could document what the guards are doing, gather evidence, bring the whole lot of them to trial or at least threaten them with publicity and make them clean up their damned act... but he wimped out. Warren at least tried, but no joy. We need to do something to get back at those assholes, and there's got to be a way to do it within the law... doesn't there? But I'm all out of clever ideas."

She watched him, her attention flickering from the countertop, and up to him as he spoke. The emotion he was showing was strong. He really felt for this cause. She had to wonder what had sparked this sudden interest, but she didn’t question the sincerity of it.

“Tha’re always the whole ‘get captured an’ get th’team t’pop in t’the rescue’ act. Should give a good idea’a what’s goin’ on…”

She half-shrugged. She wasn’t sure if she was kidding, or genuinely offering a plan. It sounded logical, really. But, at the same time, an irrational fear of going anywhere near one of those camps was building within her, thanks to both John, and Mags, who viewed it as the same sort of camp he’d been in as a child.

[Bobby Drake]

> "Y’pretty much the only one I’ve talked t’about this, y’know. You an’ Xavier, back in th’day. B’t he wasn’ up thare, s’he jus’ seem’d t’pity me."

It was kinda weird for Marie to be telling him this stuff now, when she'd never really wanted to talk about it when they were dating. Maybe now that he's joined the collection in her head it's different for her... or maybe she's just been thinking more about it, after giving up her powers and getting them back.

Whatever the reason, it's a nice feeling. And it kinda makes sense, in some way he doesn't really understand, that he and Marie might find it easier to talk now, with everything that's happened to both of them. Even if there are things he's not planning on mentioning... and he's sure
she's got secrets of her own, too.

" Well, I suppose Professor Xavier had some experience with stuff in his head he wished he could get rid of, right? Can you imagine growing up being able to peek inside everyone's head?" Bobby chuckles. " When you think about it, it's kinda an advertisement for the whole human race, isn't it? I mean, if we were total assholes he'd probably have given up."

> " th’idea tha’ w’ever gonna be accepted as w’are, in our lifetimes... I don’ see it happenin’ "

" I suppose that depends on how long we live, right? I haven't yet seen a powered mutant die of old age, have you? Maybe we're all immortal and just don't know it. " He grins, obviously joking, then blinks as he listens to himself. It wasn't impossible. Wouldn't that be a kick?


> " Camps. Mhm, tha’s it... Think tha’s where th’mem’ries’re from. "

Bobby nods, then stares silently at his feet for a while, and finally gets up the courage to ask. " What did they do to him there? " He almost manages to keep his tone casual.

> " Tha’re always the whole ‘get captured an’ get th’team t’pop in t’the rescue’ act. Should give a good idea’a what’s goin’ on... "

His first thought is to dismiss the idea... he's not looking for an excuse to invade the camps, after all, but to shut them down legally.

Then he does a double-take. If he snuck in, got himself 'captured' when he hadn't actually done anything wrong, let them run him through their system... he could report on it afterwards, testify against them. It wouldn't be like one of the "mutant terrorists" testifying... Bobby'd been part of the team that saved Alcatraz - mostly from Dr. Grey, admittedly, but maybe nobody outside the team knew that? Fat chance of that. No, it was a crazy idea, but still tempting for reasons Bobby didn't entirely understand.

" Yeah, maybe... that's... hrm. I'll have to think about that. " He gets back up and starts heading for the stairs. " Well, I'm for a shower and some sleep. It was... it was nice talking to you, though. I'm sorry for... well, sorry for everything." He feels like he ought to say more, but he can't think what.

[Rogue]

" What did they do to him there? "[/color]

She shook her head quickly, an almost frightened look crossing her face. "I can'...Can' look a'that. Jus' what 'M seein' without tryin's bad 'nough f'me t'know I don' wanna know exactly wha' happ'n'd..."

He'd been hurting, and scared. John, scared. It was...unnerving. John didn't get scared - he was stronger than she was, stronger than most people she knew. Angry, bitter, and a little crazy, but scared..? Sure, maybe the way she was tihnking was immature - he'd probbably been scared, just hiding it, but it had always seemed like he was fearless.

She forced the thoughts away with a large swig from the can of beer.

"Yeah, maybe... that's... hrm. I'll have to think about that. "[/color]

She stared at him a moment, confused. He was...taking that suggestion seriously? No, no...that was bad. Bad. He'd get himself killed...

"I w's kiddin'..." she mumbled, watching as he rose and moved away.

Well, I'm for a shower and some sleep. It was... it was nice talking to you, though. I'm sorry for... well, sorry for everything.

"Yeah. Me too. Ev'n if.."we" nevah worked, Bobby...I think ya're still pretty much m'bes' friend." she said, loudly enough, hopefully, for him to hear. "...Don' go doin' somethin' stupid, 'kay?"

Someone like her didn't really make friends very easily. She didn't want to lose the only one who was really ever there, even if there were issues between them at times.