Wicked Game

disclaimer: I don't own any of the x-men, and this story's just a figment of my imagination.

Note: any mistakes you may find, are all mine (no beta this time either...).

Rogue's pov again. Enjoy *s*


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Was it a dream?

It felt like a dream, or like when she’d been dying at Liberty Island. She was somewhat awake inside, but her body refused to cooperate, it was still unconscious and unable to move, all Rogue could do was wait.

Wait for what?

What had happened? Where am I?

As she gave it some thought, it slowly dawned on her. She was trapped. She wasn’t at the mansion anymore. A rush of panic clawed its way down her spine. No one knew where she was.

Logan …

She was alone, sedated and unable to defend herself, except hoping for someone to come skin to skin contact with her. At times like these, she was glad she was a mutant. Ah don’t wanna die … please, don’t let me die here … not like this … Someone help me …

Someone wanted her dead, or badly injured. Someone wanted her away from the rest of the mutants at Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. Was it Magneto again? He’d survived at Alkali Lake, and Rogue knew he still sought her power. If it hadn’t been for the need of the X-men and X-women to come together, friends and foes, to save the mutant community, Magneto would still be locked away in that plastic prison where he belonged. There had been no remorse in the man concerning the sacrifice of her, and for that she hated him, hated him with such intensity it sometimes scared her. It had been so humiliating when she’d had to team up with Magneto, being on the same side as him after everything that had happened. She could still recall the look in his eyes when they were all on the X-jet – smug and sinister – oh yes, he still yearned for her power, to possess it. He still wanted her for his own purposes, and now that he was out of jail, out there somewhere …

They had taken her away from everything that meant something to her. Her home, and place at the mansion. Her friends. Her safety. Her haven – they had taken Logan away from her. Logan … please find me … please ... Rogue felt empty inside, like she had for several months, so small and afraid. She could remember Bobby and the look in his eyes after they’d kissed for the first time. They would never last, and she didn’t expect him to wait for her to learn how to control the power. He cared for her, in his own way, but he still had needs that she couldn’t meet. That one kiss … and then she’d started to drain him. Bobby wasn’t Logan, he could turn things to ice, and he could freeze things, but not recover from her lethal touch like Logan could. Eventually she would fuck things up, she knew that, and he didn’t deserve it. Still … Bobby wasn’t Logan, he wasn’t Wolvie … and Logan was gone, though some part of her wondered if she’d ever had him. It had been for such a short period of time, less than 9 hours or so. A night of harsh words, tears, anger, accusations and then … she’d never known Logan to be so gentle. For the first time since she’d trusted him with her safety, when he found her about to leave Westchester all those years ago, Rogue had felt the relief wash over her knowing he really meant to protect and care for her for real.

“… I can’t let you go, knowing you might find … shelter … somewhere else, and knowing I could’ve done more … something to prevent it. I want you to stay because you want to, because I don’t wanna be without you. At the statue of Liberty … I don’t ever want to go through something like that again, I want you here. Here with me, Rogue”, he said, softly.

“You mean that?”

“Yes, I do. I want you here with me, not anywhere else. I want you. You, darlin’.”

She trusted him now, she’d always wanted to do that, but things had been hard on her ever since the first time he’d left the mansion. Less than 9 hours of forgiveness and making up, of personal sharing, of smiles, and touching and release. She could still sense the feel of Logan’s hands, the warmth of them roaming all over her body, smoothing her feverish skin. His body against hers. Inside her. And the joy of being able to touch him freely without losing control. Without draining him. She could touch him, and he could touch her. Logan was everything she’d ever wanted, too good to be true, like a dream, and she’d tried so hard to push him away.

She couldn’t just be his friend, not after what had happened when the X-team had returned to the mansion after defeating Magneto at Liberty Island. It should’ve been easy to hate Jean, but Rogue couldn’t bring herself to do that, instead she became numb, the despair and ice eating her from the inside, freezing her down to the core. It felt like dying. She wanted to die, she’d wanted that for several months. There was no future for someone like her, she’d thought, but now that she’d had some kind of breakthrough it was all gone. Someone had ripped the blanket off her and left her alone, naked and cold, in the dark. Hating Logan – she’d wanted to do that, hate him for turning his back on her, for not even telling her how he felt, and for the attempt to leave without saying goodbye. He’d made no sense to her; he’d nearly died saving her at Liberty Island, and it had meant nothing? He was brave enough to risk his own life, but he hadn’t had the courage to tell her he didn’t want her. And still … she’d kept the dog tag Logan had given her before taking off to Canada. “I’ll be back for this.” He hadn’t even given her a hug, and now that she knew why, the emotions he’d held back … if all this meant Logan was gone forever, she wanted to die.

Something cold trickled down her face, and Rogue gasped at the reaction it brought. She remembered being slapped, she was still sore. The pain had been reduced to a throbbing feeling, but returned with full power when something struck her cheek, a hard sharp pain that spread across her face. Then the other cheek before she had to chance to react.

And the other again.

And again.

And again.

Again.

If they were going to do this to wake her up, it would have the opposite effect, Rogue thought. It was almost ironic in a way. There was nothing she could do but endure being beaten to a bloody pulp.

Nothing, but hoping that at least someone would come to her rescue, or that her power would take care of business. That was the good part of it; she didn’t even have to be conscious for it to work. Faint sounds of voices reached Rogue through the mist that still clouded her mind, female voices. She knew she was coming to, the poison from the tranquilizers was wearing off, slowly releasing its hold on her body. A part of her didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to know she’d been taken to Liberty Island again. Not that she really thought Magneto would be able to pull off something like that again, at least not there. No, that wasn’t his style; he was too full of himself, too proud to do that. It wasn’t that difficult to understand why John had gone with him and Mystique after Alkali Lake. For John’s sake, she was kind of glad that he’d come back to the mansion, but hadn’t been up to asking what had happened after Alkali Lake.

No, this time it’d be something a lot more sophisticated – Magneto was an ambitious man, and he didn’t cope easily with defeat, she was certain of that, and didn’t share the same view on the mutant community as Charles Xavier did. Magneto was all in favor of the mutants, and them only, and still he’d been ready to sacrifice her without any kind of remorse. He’d just shrugged at her, telling her she had to die. That it served a good cause. It should’ve been him trapped in that machine instead of her.

The memory of being brought back to life by Logan was just as vivid as if it had happened the day before, which in a way it had, Rogue could still feel him inside her head like a shining bonfire. That had been the worst part of her strained relationship with Logan over the years – constantly having him present in that intimate way, inside her head. It was always the hardest at night, when she was sometimes fighting an internal battle, resisting the urge to please herself and losing every time, or when she had to watch him together with Jean or some other woman. Because when Jeannie had been dating Cyclops, Logan had had others. His personality wasn’t exactly bright and shiny, but he was like a magnet, women couldn’t help but look at him. Not that she blamed any of them. That was just how he was, Logan – unaware, or seemingly so, of his sexual appeal, and the effect he had on women, and men. Of course that had something to do with the fact that he didn’t really have to work it around women, he could probably sense their reactions to him long before any would admit it to themselves. Being persistent seemed to excite him, and Rogue thought that was more a part of his other half, the Wolverine. He could be … feral … at times. Wolverine craved danger, that was what kept him going, and if someone was posing a threat to him or the people around him … Rogue had seen Wolverine rule Logan’s mind on several occasions. Though he’d been a lot more aggressive when they’d first met, he still had a short fuse and a strong will.

All of a sudden Rogue could feel her mind and body come to, she heard voices, caught a few words here and there. She was lying on a floor of some kind, still tied up and naked, she realized. At some point they’d stripped her of whatever clothes she’d been wearing, and it hadn’t been much, a t-shirt and boxers, both belonging to Logan. Trying to stop her bodily reactions to waking up, she was scared and panicking over finding herself completely incapacitated and helpless, she failed – the pain was to strong and spread in all directions, real physical pain, through arms and legs. She could taste blood, but luckily nothing seemed broken even though she felt like having been run over by a train. They were talking about her now, and it was only a matter of time before –

“She’s awake”, a female voice said matter-of-factly, like nothing was wrong. The loss of emotions in that voice made Rogue’s stomach tighten. She recognized that voice but couldn’t remember from where.

“So she is”, the other one said. There were traces of eagerness coming through her voice. Rouge vaguely recognized that one too. The woman came and knelt beside her. The boots was clicking and faint sounds of leather creaking as she moved towards Rogue. Trying to keep her eyes closed was hard, the fear of facing her captor made her want to whimper, panic erupting inside her like she was a volcano of emotions. Her skin crawled with the need to scream for help, to thrash and fight back.

“I know you’re awake, girl”, Rogue heard the woman murmur, close to her ear. The heat of breath from her talking made every hair on Rogue’s body stand erect. She felt a hand smoothing her sore jaw line, and how it traced the neck and fingered the dog tag. Just having someone else touch that piece made her want to jerk away. NO, she wasn’t gonna let anyone take it away from her. She knew the numbers by heart, and repeating them seemed to help a little, to help her gain a little strength. … 458 25 243 WOLVERINE 458 25 243 WOLVERINE 458 25 243 WOLVERINE 458 25 243 WOLVERINE 458 25 243 WOLVERINE Wolvie Wolvie … Logan … please hurry … don’t leave me … please …

“Well, well, well … what’s this? Wolverine … that’s not your name, now is it honey?” She made a sound in her throat, deep and rich, then gave a laugh. The laughter was like molten lava and filled the space they were in, it seared and forced every ounce of breath out of Rouge and made her grasp for air.

“Stop fucking doin’ that! Can’t you behave yourself just this once, I never said I wanted to have you … do that thing with your voice to me, so drop it, or I’ll make you.” the other female voice said angrily.

“But it’s so hard to be nice with a delicious piece like this in front of me”, the sultry voice said, while caressing Rogue’s arm with a glove clad hand.

The other one snorted, seemingly annoyed. “Don’t be stupid, she’s not yours to play with so forget it. Besides, you know about her mutation, she doesn’t even have to be awake for the damn thing to work, understand? Now, get her up, we’re almost there.”

“Fine, fine …” the other one said, reluctantly, pulled Rogue by the hair and yanked her up on her knees. Rogue made a sound in her throat out of pain. She thought her head was about to explode, white razor sharp light flashed in front of her, disrupting the vision as she involuntarily opened her eyes.

They were in some kind of vehicle, probably a van, but she couldn’t really tell if they were moving or not – maybe the sedative from the tranquilizers still had a grip on her mind. The one holding her by the hair was standing behind her and made it impossible for Rouge to see who it was.

“Jean …?” Rouge managed to say but it came out sounding more like a strained cough. There was someone – Jean? – standing in front of her. She couldn’t really tell, there wasn’t enough light in the van for that.

“You’d like for her to do something like this, wouldn’t you? It does hold a certain degree of satisfaction thinking about the possibility if she really proved to be like this, it would make things so much easier, am I not right?” Jean’s voice said. She sounded faintly amused.

Rogue shook her head as much as the situation allowed her to, the pain was excruciating and forced her to stop. “No … no, Ah don’t want th –“

“Don’t you think I know your secrets, girl, mm?” she said in a slow drawl, and spun around so fast it made Rouge flinch.

She gasped. No this was an illusion, this wasn’t real … no …But the sight didn’t stop her from wanting to reach out and touch him.

“Logan …”

It was Logan.

No, it couldn’t be. No, no, no … this wasn’t real.

He gave a laugh, sounding just like the laughter Rogue could remember. Logan’s growly laughter. He was coming towards and lowered himself in front of her. That typical mischievous grin flashed across his face as he put on some gloves.

“You sure are a pretty little thing, a real southern belle”, he said, grabbed her jaw so he could force her to look at him.

No, this wasn’t happening. This was not Logan. It wasn’t Wolverine. He’d never do this to her, he’d never join sides with someone from the Brotherhood, or anyone one evil. Rogue could feel tears fill her eyes, she tried not to tremble or cry, but whoever it was they were making damn sure she did that. Even though she knew it wasn’t Logan he still looked so real … so … No! No, it had to be someone else but him.

“But I can’t really understand what it is about you that makes everyone risk their own life to save you”, he continued and pursed his lips.

“No … please … please don’t hurt me … please no …”

Logan released his grip and without warning slapped her with the back of his hand. The impact from the blow was not instant but it was enough to crack both of Rouge’s lips, she could hear them split, taste the blood, seconds before the pain exploded. It made her gasp for air, nearly made her faint. Logan’s laughter filled her head before it suddenly changed into a female version. Every hair on Rogue’s body stood at full attention.

“Mystique.”

The blue psycho bitch from hell filled Rogue’s vision, that morphing fucking bodysnatching bitch with her yellow eyes was looking at her, smiling overconfidently and looking utterly pleased.

“What’s the matter? I thought you’d be thrilled to see me, after all it’s been … a long time no see … isn’t that the correct phrase?”

Rogue swallowed, the sweet, metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, it dripped down her throat and chin.

“You’re … not … mah friend … bitch”, she managed to say, sounding like a drunkard because of the immense pain and numbness the blow to her face had caused.

Mystique shrugged. “Well, you certainly aren’t my friend either, girl, and not that useful – now what was it you did the last time I saw you? Oh, yes, hanging around waiting for the big boys and girls to play – so don’t fool yourself thinking I might grant you a more pleasant version of me again, like just now.”

“Where are you … where are you taking me?”

Mystique sighed irritably. “You’re not in a position to ask the questions, so keep quiet until you’re spoken to. Unless you want to get to know our friend here, and find out more about her special treatment”, Mystique said casually and kicked Rouge in the chest, which made her cough and struggle for air.

The movement made it feel like her hair was being torn out by the roots, and still she couldn’t stop coughing, she couldn’t stop the muscles in her diaphragm to contract and spasm.

“And there’s nothing she loves more than explicit pain, to cause pain in places you didn’t even think existed.” Mystique finished the sentence, underlining what she’d said by giving Rogue another slap in the face. She turned her attention to the other woman, urging her to keep a firm grip on Rogue.

It was hard to remain calm when all Rogue wanted to do was sob and whimper, she was badly hurt, and bleeding, she’d been stripped of what she’d been wearing, she’d been tied up and she was alone. She was alone, with people that knew about her power, what it did, that it was still active when she was unconscious or asleep. Not that she doubted Logan and the rest of the X-team weren’t looking for her, by now they must’ve noticed she was missing. The professor must’ve tried to locate her with the help of Cerebro – that was probably her biggest hope. She had not the slightest idea where Mystique and her friend were taking her, or how much time had passed. She was helpless and on her own.
There was a movement to the vehicle. Mystique walked to the other end of the small confined space. Rogue could hear her dabble with some kind of lock, and prepared herself to be pushed and dragged out of the van. That was when she also had to pay close attention to the surroundings, if she could pick up on something, anything that might be a clue as to where she was, that might come in handy later. Later? Do you really think they’re gonna let you make phone calls to all your friends? And by the way … friends? There are a lot of people that will be secretly relieved that you’re gone.

“Put a blindfold on her”, Mystique called over her shoulder and stepped out of the van. “We’re here.” Rogue had gotten a final look into Mystique’s eyes, those burning hellholes that wanted to tore the flesh of her bones. It was all there in those cursed reptile eyes. Pure hatred.

“Get up”, the one behind Rogue said, while caressing her bare back in an intimate way, that in another situation would’ve been like that of a lover’s touch. Now it made her want to vomit, it literary made her skin crawl with disgust and fear.

“Hurry up, we haven’t got all day”, Mystique’s angry voice came from somewhere outside.

Rogue felt the woman yank her hair again. “You heard her, girl, now move along before I lose my temper, and you wouldn’t want that”, she whispered into Rogue’s ear, with that velvety honey dripping voice she recognized from somewhere. It made her shiver for so many reasons there was no telling what she really felt, and that tightened the knot she could sense inside her chest. It was more than enough to frighten her to the point where she could hardly breathe.

“You know, you really should rethink this”, Mystique said with a condescending tone to her voice, and twiddled with what Rogue knew was the white streaks in her hair, “because grey hair for someone as young as you … “

“Are you color blind as well as stupid?” Rouge snarled. She was scared but there was still some spirit left in her, and she wasn’t about to go down that easily. Sooner or later she’d get her chance with some good ol’ skin to skin contact.

“Grey, white … well when it comes down to it it’s the same colorless shit, so stop making jokes. They’re not gonna get you better treatment if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

Mystique urged them to follow her. As Rogue couldn’t see anything, blindfolded as she was, she tried to focus on everything else – sounds, smells, what the ground felt like. She tried to draw on the part of Logan that resided in her head, his hyper senses. Somewhere behind him she could still feel the remnants of Cody, the first person she’d ever kissed, and nearly killed. It seemed like ages ago. Rogue knew instantly, without having any enhanced senses, that Mystique and the other woman were taking her through a woodland of some kind, because one of her favorite places nearby Xavier’s school lay in the midst of a forest like this one, or something close to it. She knew what it felt like to run barefoot on paths. The thought seemed a bit comforting at first, if she managed to get away it would be easy to hide, but if she didn’t …

How was anyone supposed to find her but Xavier, or maybe Jean to an extent? And there were plenty of woodland areas up north – it would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

“Please … where are you taking me?” She didn’t want to beg, she hated herself sounding so weak and helpless, but it was hard to be tough when she’d been stripped of her clothes and severely beaten. Suddenly something hit her in the temple, and instantly made her go numb – the impact was so intense she had no time to experience the pain that would follow, but drifted away into the darkness once more.