Category: X-Men, X3, Rogue, PG
“I’ve got a whole congregation living in my head these days.”
-Homecoming, Vienna Teng
She got all the way to the door, wringing her hands together, glancing around her for familiar faces in the growing crowd. The chatter of eager mutants around her filled her ears: they didn’t even know there was a war going on. She shuffled ahead slowly, twisting the silken fabric of her gloves, biting her lip. She could picture them, suiting up; Wolverine eager and grimacing in delight when he first popped his claws through a new pair of leather gloves, Storm serious and intense rallying the team, Colossus silent and dutiful, Bobby sad, looking behind him, torn between following the right and rescuing the wrong, but determined, and Kitty so small yet intense. She could see them all without even closing her eyes.
“Don’t worry about us, kid. We can take care of ourselves,” the reassurance Wolverine offered her in her head was accompanied by a rough rub on her shoulders. Those years ago, he hadn’t given a shit about allegiances or powers as long as she was safe, and wasn’t she saving herself now? She knew that now, however, it was more like-
“Betrayal,” Magneto snarled, glaring at her, looming. “Denying your very existence.” But Magneto was the enemy, wasn’t he? His words turned her stomach, because her actions turned his. She was literally making him sick.
Bobby was quiet, but it was a confused, sad quiet. She had to push him away because she’d rather have something to argue with, but this silent upset was more than she could take.
She took three more steps. She could see them now, boarding the jet, fastening their seatbelts, rushing off to battle. A perfect team, without her. It seemed natural that she couldn’t see herself among them, her hair like a flag of surrender.
“That’s right. Give up.” Magneto turned from her, disgrace pouring from him in waves of energy.
She got all the way to the door before she turned and ran, hailing a taxi, breathlessly giving the school’s address, gripping the inside of the door’s handle till her knuckles grew sore.