Disclaimer: The X-Men are property of Marvel. No one in this story is mine, I don't think. Not even Rogue's husband, Daniel, who, by the way, is property of the extremely talented Amanda Sichter.
Again, Amanda, thank you for letting me write this. :)

Dreams to a Reality

by Aimee Boling Sze
Chapter Two: Suicide Mission

Rogue stared dully at her reflection in the mirror. She was a Class A psycho now. A Genoshan collar was wrapped around her neck. She had thought that returning to the X-Men would make her whole again. But she was wrong. Her husband's cries of betrayal rung deeply in her head. His fits of rage were now her fits of rage. His words were her words. She had become dangerous in the past few days. So dangerous that she needed to wear a Genoshan collar to minimize the damage of her temper tantrums.

To be whole again she needed more than the X-Men -- she needed Remy. She needed him to talk to her. To smile at her. To tell her comforting words. To tell her that he still loved her as much as she loved him. She had been ignoring it for a long time. But the idea just wouldn't leave her. Where was he? Where was her beloved Remy? He couldn't be on a mission for this long. And the others always avoided mention of him and changed the subject when it came anywhere near him.

And, for that matter, where was Kitty? She had not seen either one of them since her return. In the back of her mind she knew that it was quite possible that the two were together somewhere. But she refused to acknowledge where that somewhere may be. And what they were doing at that somewhere.

Rogue stared at her reflection forlornly. How could anyone possibly love her now? Her husband's last round of abuse was still in the process of healing. Rogue had refused Logan's healing factor because she wanted Remy to see her scars and and understand that she never truly loved her husband and that she had always thought of him.

Rogue felt the tears well up in her eyes. But but what if he didn't love her anymore? What if he and Kitty were ... She could not even complete the thought. She would simply DIE.

Jean glared at the mess in front of her. The X-Men were not babies. Yet, there was a huge pile of dishes in the sink. Did they think she was their mother? Was she supposed to clean up after them?

Rogue slowly walked into the kitchen. Jean turned her gaze towards her and smiled automatically. The X-Men had all agreed that they had to be especially nice to Rogue and help her get back on her feet. "Good morning, Rogue," Jean said cheerfully. "I was just going to make some pancakes. Would you care for some?"

Rogue ignored Jean's comments and strode purposefully over to the kitchen counter. Jean watched her with a puzzled, quizzical look. Rogue took a hold of a kitchen knife. She fingered its blade gently. Jean's eyes widened. "Rogue, no!"

But it was too late. Rogue had plunged the knife into her stomach.

"He's he's in me. He's tellin'- makin'- me do all of this," Rogue said hoarsely. "He's tauntin' me. Making me impossible ta live with. Either Ah'm goin' ta have all mah strength an' go wild or Ah'm gonna be powerless an' he's gonna keep tellin' me ta kill maheself," Rogue continued softly. "It's crazy. Ah can't live like this. Torn between killin' mahself or others. It's crazy. Ah'm crazy."

Next: The Return

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