Rogue had been at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters for several months now, and the once-overwhelming transition had become her new normal. The sprawling mansion, filled with students and teachers who understood what it was like to be different, had become a sanctuary. She no longer felt the constant need to hide her abilities; here, she was among peers who shared similar struggles.
She quickly befriended several students. Scott Summers, known as Cyclops, with his disciplined demeanor and unwavering sense of responsibility, became a close ally. Jean Grey, whose telepathic and telekinetic abilities were awe-inspiring, offered Rogue a sympathetic ear and invaluable advice on managing her powers. Logan, or Wolverine, with his gruff exterior and healing factor, provided a unique perspective on the burdens of their gifts. And Ororo Munroe, Storm, whose control over the weather mirrored Rogue's struggle for control over herself, became a mentor and a friend.
Despite the camaraderie and support, Rogue often found herself in the lab with Professor Hank McCoy, also known as Beast. Hank was a genius in the fields of genetics and biochemistry, and he had taken a special interest in helping Rogue. He ran countless tests and devised various training programs to help her gain control over her abilities.
During one of their many sessions, Rogue sat on a stool, anxiously fiddling with the gloves that had become a permanent part of her wardrobe. Hank approached her with a reassuring smile.
"Rogue, I know it feels like we're hitting a wall, but every bit of data we collect brings us one step closer to understanding your powers," he said, adjusting his glasses as he looked at the latest test results.
"I appreciate everything you're doin', Professor, but sometimes it just feels impossible," Rogue replied, her Southern accent heavy with frustration. "No matter what I'll try, I won't be able to touch anyone without... without taking from them."
Hank nodded thoughtfully. "Your powers are unique and incredibly complex, but that doesn't mean they are beyond our understanding or control. Remember, control often comes from understanding oneself as much as it comes from scientific solutions."
Rogue sighed, her thoughts drifting to Peter. She had left so abruptly, cutting off their relationship with only a letter. The memory filled her with annoyance and a longing for the simplicity of her unaware days before their kiss. She had missed Peter's unwavering support and his ability to make her laugh despite everything.
"I just... I can't help but think about Peter," she confessed quietly. "I left so suddenly, without getting the answers I wanted... and it's been eating away at me."
Hank gave her a sympathetic look. "Rogue, the decisions we make in the heat of the moment can be difficult to reconcile, but for some reason that won't share... you chose to leave. Maybe you were confused, maybe you wanted to protect him. Whatever it may be... you'll cross that bridge when you get to it.
"But what if... what if I never learn to control it?" Rogue's voice wavered, and she blinked back tears. "Will I have to live the rest of my life without ever touching someone?"
Hank placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I believe in your potential, Rogue. Control might not come quickly, but with time, patience, and perseverance, I have faith that you'll find a way. And remember, you're not alone in this. You have friends here who will support you every step of the way."
Rogue managed a small smile, feeling a bit of hope rekindled by Hank's words. "Thank you, Professor. I won't give up. I owe it to myself, and to everyone who's supported me, to keep trying."
As she left the lab, Rogue resolved to redouble her efforts. She threw herself into her training, learning not only from Hank but also from the other teachers at the school. Each session with Storm helped her focus on inner calm, while sparring with Logan taught her resilience and the importance of pushing her limits.
In the evenings, when the mansion was quiet, Rogue often found herself writing in her journal, reflecting on her progress and the relationships she was building. She still missed Peter deeply, but she took comfort in knowing that she was doing everything she could to master her powers and, one day, return stronger and more in control.
Life at Xavier's School was challenging, but it was also a time of growth and self-discovery for Rogue. Surrounded by friends and mentors who understood her struggles, she began to believe that control was possible and that, with time, she could find a way to live her life without fear.
Back With Peter.
Peter sat on the couch in the living room, flipping through the channels aimlessly. He paused when a breaking news segment caught his attention. The reporter's urgent tone made him sit up and focus.
"We have a developing story tonight," the reporter announced. "A daring burglary has taken place at a high-end penthouse in the city. The intruder, described by eyewitnesses and the security guards, wore a distinctive black suit with white fur trim and a domino mask."
Peter's heart skipped a beat. The description sounded eerily similar to the costume he had designed for Felicia.
"The security cameras were unable to capture any footage of the actual break-in," the reporter continued, "but the guards who were overpowered and left unconscious provided detailed accounts. They described the intruder as highly skilled, able to sneak past advanced security systems and take down guards with ease. The intruder made off with several valuable items, including rare jewelry and priceless artifacts."
Peter's mind raced as he listened to the details. The suit, the mask, the skills—it all seemed too coincidental. His immediate concern, however, wasn't connecting the dots about Felicia's potential involvement; instead, he was worried for her safety.
"Our information comes from the defeated guards who were made victims of tonight's heist," the reporter concluded. "The police are asking anyone with information to come forward."
Peter grabbed his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he dialed Felicia's number. His heart pounded as the line rang. He needed to make sure she was okay. The thought of her being in any sort of danger was unbearable.
"Come on, Felicia, pick up," he muttered under his breath. When she didn't answer, his worry deepened. He sent her a text instead, hoping for a quick response.
"Hey, Felicia. Just saw something on the news. Are you okay? Please let me know."
He sat there, staring at his phone, willing it to buzz with a response. The minutes felt like hours as he waited, his mind spinning with concern and fear. He couldn't shake the image of the suit and the possibility that Felicia might be involved in something dangerous.
His phone remained silent, and Peter's worry only grew. He resolved to find out more, to make sure she was safe, and to understand what was really going on.
A.N: Need a beta reader... who could give me suggestions... you thought I was "kidding" you, I don't know what I'm doing!!!