Fervent Feelings

X1 Chapter 4 - Trust Me Not

In my restless dreams, I find this place. Needles—no, drills—pierce my skin all over, hot liquid seeping onto my bones, and I hear hushed conversations as if they're far away. I'm drowning in shallow water, gasping for breath, men in lab coats standing before me, their eyes wide with fear. They're afraid of me.

My eyes fly open, and I shoot upright in bed, pawing at my chest, trying to calm the rapid thudding of my heart. The remnants of the nightmare cling to me, making it hard to breathe. Before I have time to gather my thoughts, screams pierce the silence from the next room over— then nothing. Panic surges through me, and my legs swing over the side of the bed as I scurry to the door, tearing it open.

The door to the room next to mine is ajar. I step into the hallway, the cold wooden floor chilling my bare feet. "Help me," a distressed voice calls out, and fear starts to seep into my skin, mingling with my own as I feel his emotions ripple through the air.

"Logan?" I whisper, my voice shaky as I stand in the doorway, frozen in place. The sight before me sends a jolt of terror down my spine.

"Somebody help!" Logan shouts louder, his frantic eyes finally locking onto mine.

"Rogue?" I stammer, quickly shuffling into the room, trying to make sense of the chaos in the dark. The light from the hallway casts an eerie glow, revealing three deep puncture wounds in her back, blood dripping down her pale skin, staining her pale lavender nightgown. She chokes on her words, her entire body convulsing as she reaches out a trembling, bare hand to Logan's temple.

His eyes go wide, his breath catching in his throat as he becomes paralyzed by her touch. The veins on his face darken, pulsating as if something is being drained from him. Then, like some kind of transfer, the dark veins creep across Rogue's wounds, and they begin to heal before my eyes. Of course—her ability.

More children gather in the hallway, drawn to the commotion, their faces pale with fear. I whirl around, shooing them away from the spectacle. "No, no, don't look," I urge, guiding them back down the corridor. I catch sight of Scott, Jean, and Ororo rushing toward us, their expressions alarmed.

I turn back just as Scott flips on the light. The harsh brightness floods the room, revealing the full extent of the chaos. Rogue's wounds are now completely healed, and she lets go of Logan's head, causing him to collapse to the floor, gasping for air.

I rush to his side, falling to my knees beside him. "Scott, grab a pillow," I call out, my voice tinged with urgency. Scott nods, his movements quick and efficient as he retrieves a dark green-lined pillow from Logan's bed.

I roll Logan onto his back, cradling his head in my hands as I feel his emotions begin to fade away, leaving a familiar emptiness. "Here," Scott murmurs, handing me the pillow. I slip it under Logan's neck for support, my fingers trembling slightly as I try to steady my breathing.

"It was an accident," Marie's broken voice trembles behind me. I glance over my shoulder just in time to see her tear-streaked face before she rushes out of the room, guilt, and despair radiating from her in waves.

***

The next morning, the professor, Scott, and I find ourselves studying the images of Logan's skeleton beneath the school once more, the room illuminated by the cold glow of the projector. The stark lines of metal grafted onto bone create a haunting silhouette, one that holds more questions than answers.

"What are you looking for, Erik?" Charles wonders aloud, spinning in his chair with a pensive expression. Scott moves away from me, uncrossing his arms as he leans in to examine the photos more closely. The tension in the room is palpable.

"It's strange," the professor continues, his brow furrowing. "There are more powerful mutants out there. Why should this one be so important to him?"

"Maybe it's his way with people," Scott remarks dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. I raise a curious brow at my brother, intrigued by his apparent disdain.