Chapter Text
Rogue stretched in her sunbeam, trying to focus on the gentle warmth hitting her face and not the unease growing in her chest.
Collapsing back against the soft surface, she peeked over the back of the couch. Ray and Sam stood by the pool table, cue sticks in hand. Across the room, Bobby and Jubilee were locked in battle over some video game again. Based on the whining coming from Bobby, Jubilee was winning.
Jean glanced up from the book. Catching Rogue’s stare, the redhead rolled her eyes at Jubilee and Bobby and shot Rogue a long-suffering look. Rogue smirked in agreement, then tried to return her attention to her own book.
Everything’s fine, girl. Just calm down, Rogue chided herself, trying to get comfortable.
Everything was fine. That was the problem. Rogue had learned long ago that when her day was going smoothly, things were about to hit the fan.
Maybe I need another cup of coffee, she thought. Or a cataclysmic event. Something to shake the sense of creeping dread slithering up her spine.
Ya know, said a voice, smooth as bourbon and twice as warm, if you’re looking for a way to pass de time, I have a few suggestions.
Rogue flushed. Of course, he would pop up now.
Ever since she and Remy started training together, his psyche had been more talkative than normal. It should have been annoying, but it wasn’t, especially with Remy out on a mission with Cyclops and Boom-Boom.
Admit it, you miss me, he grinned.
“Like a rash,” she muttered, flipping to the next page.
A sexy rash.
Rogue felt her lips twitch, despite herself. “Should I speak to Dr. McCoy about that for you, Sugah?”
The psyche pouted, but fell silent again. Rogue snickered under her breath. Poor Scott. God only knew what he’d done in a past life to be saddled with the two explosive mutants. Settling back in, she forced her attention back to the task at hand.
“Hey, Rogue.”
“Jesus,” Rogue cried, jerking in her seat. Whipping around, she nailed her former roommate, who was half-phased through the sofa, with a glare. “Dang it, Kit. You know not to sneak up on me.”
“Sorry,” Kitty apologized. “You’ve got company.”
“Tell ’em I’m not here.”
“I tried that. He said—and I quote—‘I’ll wait.’”
Rogue frowned. “Who is it?”
“I dunno,” Kitty shrugged. “He said his name is Julien Boudreaux.”
Her book hit the carpet by her feet with a dull ‘thud.’ Rogue’s brain sluggishly registered the sound. Her whole body tingled with the sensation of pins and needles. Or, maybe that was her soul leaving her body.
“Um, Rogue,” Kitty hesitated. “Your eye just twitched.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Rogue muttered absently. “Would you excuse me, please?”
With Herculean effort, she stood and managed to walk out of the room at a normal pace. Stepping into the hallway, Rogue carefully pulled the door closed behind her until she heard the gentle ‘click’ of the latch.
Then she was moving.
Her boots thumped against the wood floors as she stormed towards the foyer. Blood pulsed in her ears. If that idiot was actually standing in her home, invading her space, she was about to lay hands and not the church going kind.
Rogue rounded the corner and stopped cold.
There he was.
Julien Boudreaux leaned against the banister of the main staircase, looking all the world like a gentleman caller waiting on a lady. Blue eyes found hers immediately. He straightened, a smirk already stretching across his face.
“Bonjour, mon Ange,” Julien drawled. “Miss me?”
Fils de pute, Remy’s psyche snarled.
“Not even a little bit,” Rogue replied, stomping the rest of the way across the foyer. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I’d drop by to see the loveliest—”
“Knock it off,” Rogue hissed, glancing around. She didn’t need anyone at Xavier’s getting the wrong idea. “Now tell me the truth or get out. Why. Are. You. Here?”
I vote he gets out. Preferably by window. Third floor, Remy grumbled.
The smirk disappeared, and Julien lowered his voice. “I need your help.”
Rogue blinked.
Ah. So, this was shock. Hadn’t Dr. McCoy covered this in last month’s field medic refresher—sudden auditory distortion?
“Come again?”
“I need your help,” Julien ground out.
Right. Not shock, then. Just pigs flying. Rogue shook her head, snapping herself out of it. “With what?
“Family business,” he answered and flicked his eyes over her shoulder.
Rogue turned. Kitty and Jean stood at the entrance of the hallway watching them with matching worried expressions. Rogue groaned. She absolutely did not want anything Julien was about to say to find its way into the Mansion’s gossip circuit.
She also wasn’t dumb enough to go wandering off alone with a Master Assassin.
Jean, do me a favor, she called through the psychic link. I need you to keep everyone away from the gazebo. And send Kitty to go find Logan and tell him Julien Boudreaux is on our doorstep. Logan knows who he is.
Jean’s eyebrows pulled together. Are you sure?
Yes. Now go.
“Thanks y’all,” Rogue called, with a smile and an airy hand. “I got it from here.”
Stepping around Julien, she snatched up her brown leather jacket. Shoving her arms through the sleeves, she jerked her head towards the door. “Follow me. I know somewhere we can talk.”
The cold bit her face as they stepped outside. Despite the blinding sunlight, upstate New York was already bitterly cold in late November. Rogue wrapped her arms around herself. She hated this weather, but watching Julien struggle was good for her soul.
He muttered something in French that probably would’ve gotten him slapped in polite company.
“Problem?” she asked innocently.
“I despise this climate,” he grumbled, pulling his red jacket tighter around himself.
Reaching the gazebo, Rogue turned to face Julien squarely. “Alright. What’s going on that you needed to turn up on my doorstep?”
Julien hesitated, eyes darting away. Rogue raised an eyebrow. This was new. She’d never seen him anything less than cocksure and brash.
Julien exhaled slowly, sending a puff of white curling into the air. “It’s my sister.”
Rogue’s heart lurched. “Belladonna?”
He nodded. “She missed check-in two days ago. No one’s heard from her since.”
Belle! Julien’s psyche slammed into the forefront of her mind like a cannonball, sending white stars bursting across her vision. Remy’s psyche perked up from his spot.
Reaching out, Rogue gripped the railing, pressing the fingers of her free hand under her right eye. Guess the psyches got stronger when they were panicking. She’d have to let the Professor know about that. Outside her eyelids, she could hear Julien still talking.
Shut up and sit down. I can’t listen to the both of ya, Rogue ordered.
But Belle—
Julien’s psyche didn’t get a chance to finish, as Logan and Remy’s psyches grabbed him and dragged him further back into her mind.
Easy, Chere, I got him, Remy’s psyche muttered grimly. Back of de line, Boudreaux.
Rogue waited until the stabbing began to recede before opening her eyes.
Julien stared at her, “You okay, fille?”
“Peachy,” Rogue growled. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you here? Shouldn’t you be down in New Orleans with your daddy trying to find her?”
“Pere’s taking too long. He’s trying to keep this quiet.” Julien spat in disgust. “Madame LaCour came to see me yesterday. She told me that you’re the only one who could find Belle.”
Rogue pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and swore mentally. Oh, great.
It was well known that Madame LaCour had held Julien’s ear for years with her prophecies and readings. If the older woman had told Julien that Rogue was the key to getting his sister back, Rogue was gonna have a hell of a time disabusing him of the idea.
“She gave me this and told me to give it to you.” Julien pulled out a crisp linen envelope from his red jacket and held it out.
Rogue slowly reached out and plucked the letter from Julien’s fingers, trying to ignore the feeling that she’d been handed a poisonous snake and not a piece of correspondence. Sliding a finger under the flap, she fished out the folded letter when something fluttered to the gazebo floor.
A tarot card. Death.
Rogue stooped to pick up the card, painfully aware of Julien’s gaze locked on her. She studied the image of a skeletal horseman, dressed in black armor. Something icy slid down her spine, and Rogue shivered. The image felt like a half-remembered nightmare or a memory from another lifetime.
She quickly turned her attention to the letter.
Hello Dearie,
I don’t often pull cards on someone’s behalf. It’s always better if the seeker can pull the cards themselves, but I had the sudden urge to check on you yesterday.
Death is a misunderstood card. While it can symbolize physical death, it more often represents the need to end a cycle. A time for transformation.
You might recall the visitors we’ve had at the table, the Tower and the High Priestess. A warning of unfolding events and the need to trust one’s instincts over conventional wisdom.
And of course, our younger guests—the Fool and the Magician. I hope that you have taken the opportunity to learn new skills. New journeys often put us to the test.
Do call on me the next time you are in town.
Best,
Madame LaCour
Lovely, Rogue glared at the offending piece of paper. She glanced at the card again and quickly stuffed it and Madame LaCour’s letter back into the envelope.
She didn’t want this. She didn’t want anything to do with the Assassins Guild. Nor did she want their business landing on Xavier’s doorstep. And that was to say nothing of the fact that Belladonna was Remy’s ex-fiancée.
“Julien, listen—,” Rogue scrubbed a hand over her face, “—I have no idea why she sent you here. I don’t believe in prophecy. On top of that, Remy’s not here right now, he’s—”
“She didn’t say a damn thing about LeBeau. Madame specifically said you are the one who can find Belle.” Julien cut her off sharply. His hand curled into a fist. “Please, she’s my sister.”
Rogue watched as his shoulders slumped, the fight going out of him. He didn’t deserve her pity, but that didn’t stop it from creeping in anyway. For the first time, Julien looked…human. Not a Master Assassin or a Guild heir, but just a brother.
Rogue swallowed tightly
What would she do if Kurt went missing? Just vanished, with only scraps to go on. Rogue knew the answer immediately. The rulebook would go out the window. She’d track down any lead and turn over every stone until she brought Kurt home.
There’s the start of a fine guilt trip, Rogue sighed.
“Julien, listen. I absorb people. You’d need someone with tracking abilities or at least a telepath with a decent range that could find people at a distance—”
She stopped, eyes widening.
“What is it?” Julien demanded.
“You said your sister’s a mutant, right?” Rogue asked. Julien nodded. “If someone tried to attack her, would she have used her powers?”
“She probably would have gone for her guns or knives first. Then, probably hand-to-hand. But if she was hurt and needed to get away, she could have used her plasma blasts to burn her attackers alive.”
Well, ain’t she just a little treasure trove of death, Rogue thought. In the back of her mind, Julien’s psyche bristled but didn’t disagree.
“Why?” Julien asked when she’d stayed silent too long.
“If you can give me her last known location and a timeframe, there might be a way to see if she used her powers. Or is using them.” Rogue said slowly.
“Manhattan. Last checked in on Monday. Failed to check in on Wednesday,” Julien rattled off immediately.
Rogue sighed. She’d do this, and then Julien would be off her doorstep. “Follow me. And no stabbing people.”
“Why would I stab anyone?” Julien rolled his eyes. “You already said LeBeau isn’t here.”
Rogue pressed her lips together. She should have gone for that third cup of coffee.
They’d managed to make it to the Professor’s office without running into anyone else. Rogue credited Jean for that minor miracle.
Once they arrived, Rogue quickly did the introductions, and Julien explained the situation to the Professor. From the corner of her eye, she tried to gauge his reaction to Professor Xavier, but Julien’s face was a mask of perfect politeness.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Boudreaux,” Professor Xavier said earnestly, and wheeled around his desk. “We’d like to help if you’ll allow us.”
“Merci,” Julien replied. “Any assistance you can offer would be appreciated. My family would be in your debt.”
Rogue’s heart picked up the pace in her chest. Nope. Not a chance. There was no way she was letting the Assassins’ Guild have any connection to Xaviers, not even one that wasn’t in their favor.
“There’s no need for that. The X-Men don’t keep debts,” the Professor replied smoothly. “Please follow me.”
He gestured for them to follow, exiting the office. They rounded the corner for the elevator only to find Logan standing there, inspecting a piece of wall art, chewing on a cigar.
Subtle, Logan. Rogue resisted the urge to drag a hand down her face.
“Logan,” the Professor greeted. He pressed the button for the lift. “As I was saying, we have the ability to track mutant powers. It allows us to find emerging mutants before they have a chance to harm themselves or others. If your sister did use her powers, Cerebro would have picked up the signature.”
The doors opened, and they all entered the lift.
“Who is Cerebro?” Julien asked, accepting Logan’s silent addition to the group without comment.
“Not who—what,” Xaiver replied, as the elevator began to move. “Cerebro is a computer that amplifies my telepathic ability. It allows me to scan the globe for mutant signatures.”
Julien let out a low hum of interest. Rogue glanced at him. She could already see the wheels turning in the boy’s head as he weighed the tactical implications.
“And Logan,” the Professor added mildly as the elevator dinged, “If you continued to smoke that cigar in here, you will spend the rest of your life thinking you’re a six-year-old little girl who likes ballet.”
Logan smirked, flicking the cigar back into his pocket. “You got it, Chuck.”
The doors opened, and the Professor rolled out.
Julien didn’t move. He stood frozen, his mouth hanging open slightly, watching the paralyzed man roll away in his wheelchair. Rogue bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood.
There were power plays, and then there were power plays.
Blue eyes snapped towards her, then narrowed, taking in the sight of her shaking shoulders. Rogue cleared her throat, managing an innocent shrug.
“After you, Sugah.”
The scan didn’t take long after Julien provided Belladonna’s last known location and a time frame. However, it was more than enough time for Rogue to stew.
She’d never met the infamous Belladonna Boudreaux.
Despite the fact that Remy had been helping her work on control for over a month now, she still didn’t have a clear image in her mind of Belladonna. And unlike other topics, Remy’s psyche was unusually mum on the subject of his ex-fiancée. Something that was more terrifying than any admission.
In fact, most of what she knew about Belladonna came from Julien’s psyche, but even that was muddled. The only clear image she had was a pair of ice blue crystalline eyes that matched Julien’s own.
Cerebro pinged.
“I’ve located your sister’s signature,” the Professor said, removing his helmet. “There is no sign of activity for several days, but then she uses them repeatedly in the span of a few minutes.”
On the screen, a map of Lower Manhattan appeared, with white dots indicating the use of mutant powers snaking across several blocks.
Julien’s face tightened. “She was being chased. She’d never use her powers like that otherwise.”
“I’m afraid you might be right.” Professor Xaiver replied grimly. He pointed at a city block on the screen, “The final use of her powers was here. Most likely an alleyway, given its position.”
Rogue felt a stab of pity for Julien. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but at least now he had a start.
“What’s around there, Chuck? Maybe half-pint can check to see if anyone has security cameras,” Logan suggested.
Rogue jerked around to stare at Logan in disbelief. “Excuse me?”
“Excellent idea, Logan.” The Professor raised his fingers to his temples.
Before she could protest, Kitty dropped through the ceiling, landing beside Julien in a crouch. Seeing Julien Boudreaux nearly come out of his skin at the sudden appearance of her former roommate was enough to make Rogue take back everything she’d said about Kitty’s taste in music.
“Kitty, could you see if you can find any security footage from this location and date?” the Professor asked. Rogue sighed. She had purposefully avoided using Jean’s and Kitty’s names in front of Julien earlier. So much for that.
“Sure, Professor, Kitty agreed. “But let me use my laptop. I’ve got better programs.”
Without waiting for anyone to agree, she turned and darted out of the room. Julien’s mouth fell open as Kitty disappeared through the door.
Shaking off his stupor, he muttered. “Does Jean-Luc know about her?”
Rogue crossed her arms. “Don’t even think about it.”
An hour later, Rogue was deeply regretting her life choices. Specifically, the one where she hadn’t shoved Julien out onto the front steps and barricaded the door.
She was currently seated back in the leather armchair in the library, babysitting a Master Assassin while Julien lounged across from her like a smug cat. He’d spent the last forty-five minutes alternating between flirting with her and making not-so-subtle digs about Remy’s absence.
“So where’s the Thief?”
“On a mission.”
“Pity.” Julien smirked. “Maybe I should send him a thank you card for not being underfoot for once. It’s much easier to enjoy your charming company without him circling.”
If he mentioned “her charming ways” or “dinner” one more time, she was going to put him into a coma. Politely, of course…with her prayers. Then she could send Marius a casserole.
Julien’s eyes fell to her legs.
“You look almost dangerous in that skirt. Where was that little leather number all those Mardi Gras ago?” Julien asked.
Rogue’s brain took a full second to reboot, processing the ‘almost’ first and the word ‘dangerous’ second. She glowered and slumped lower in her chair.
“Nope,” she said, waving a hand trying to shoo the words away. “We’re not doing that. Whatever that was.”
“Flattery?”
“Psychological warfare.”
“Have you worn it for LeBeau, yet?”
Rogue didn’t dignify that with a response. She glanced at the library door, debating whether to fake an emergency to escape when footsteps echoed down the hall. Logan, Kitty, and Professor Xavier entered. Kitty had her laptop clutched to her chest.
Rogue figured her face must have been screaming ‘murder,’ because Kitty took one look at her and visibly winced.
“Sorry, guys.” She apologized to the room, though she was only looking at Rogue. “I found a Chinese restaurant with a security camera in the alley, but their security system was oddly difficult to bypass.”
“It’s fine, Kit. Whatcha got?”
Kitty set down the laptop on the coffee table in front of Julien and pulled up the feed. As she pressed play, Rogue moved around to get a better look.
For a moment, nothing happened other than a random car passing by at the end of the alley. Then a bright flash momentarily washed out the feed. Two more flashes and a stunning blonde woman stumbled into the frame, her movement sluggish and jerky all at once. Raising her hand, a fireball erupted from her palm, flying back down the alley. Nodding in satisfaction, she turned and staggered the rest of the way towards the opening of the alleyway.
A pipe came flying from around the corner and slammed into her head. The woman crumpled, falling into a heap on the alley floor. Suddenly, men swarmed in from all directions. A box truck skidded into view at the end of the alley.
One man snapped something around the woman’s neck as the others worked to secure her hands and feet. They hoisted her into the back of the truck, and it took off, disappearing out of frame.
“Is that her?” Kitty asked gently.
“Oui,” Julien replied, still staring at the screen.
“There’s a split second at the end where we got a shot of the full license plate,” Kitty offered, pulling out a piece of paper. “I ran the tags, and the box truck belongs to a rental company in the Adirondacks.”
At the word, Rogue felt an unwarranted wave of irritation roll through her. She sighed and wondered which one of her peanut gallery loathed the great outdoors so much. She’d sure as hell never been to the Adirondacks.
“—to go, fille?”
“Come again?” she asked.
“How soon can you be ready to go?” Julien repeated. “Madame LaCour said you could find Belle.”
“And we did,” Rogue blurted out. Julien inhaled deeply.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “We have a lead. Now we need to go get her.”
Rogue, there is something you should know. The Professor’s voice caught her attention. I’ve searched the same area over the past four months. Dozens of mutant signatures have appeared and disappeared in the same area where Ms. Boudreaux was taken. There’s a distinct pattern. Only one signature ever reappeared, in a small town called Marrowood. The rental shop is located in the same town.
Rogue managed to keep her eyes from sliding shut in resignation, but it was a near thing. Julien stared at her, waiting for an answer. She pasted on a tight-lipped smile. “Can y’all give us a minute?”
Absolument pas, Remy growled.
“You sure, Stripes?” Logan asked.
Nope. Not in the slightest. She nodded anyway. “Yep.”
Chere—
Can it, Swamp Rat, she grumbled.
If she thought about this too hard, she would change her mind about going to save Remy’s drop-dead gorgeous ex-fiancée—the one who carried enough weapons to outfit a small militia and probably wouldn’t be thrilled to meet her anyway.
Belle ain’t got nothing on you, Chere, Remy said and fell silent.
Rogue waited as everyone filed out of the room. Logan pulled the door shut behind him. She doubted he’d left. Logan didn’t have any more trust in the Assassins Guild than she did.
Facing Julien squarely, Rogue took a deep breath. This had to be the dumbest thing she’d ever done in a really long list of dumb ideas, but damn if she wasn’t going to do this on her terms.
“Alright, I will help you on one condition—wait, two…no, hold on,” Rogue broke off, thinking.
Think this through, Chere, Remy murmured. You can’t trust the Assassins.
You’re one to talk, Thief, Julien snarled.
Rogue ignored the pair and focused on thinking this through from every angle. The Guilds, all of them, cut their teeth on backroom deals and power plays. Leaving her feeling, more often than not, like a child playing at the adults’ table. She had no doubt Julien was the same. Some days in her more masochistic moments, she wondered if it wouldn’t be a good idea to absorb Jean-Luc’s psyche.
“Four conditions.”
“And those would be?”
“One,” Rogue held up a finger, “Whatever is between the Assassins, the Thieves, and the Runners, you leave it at the gate. This is a school. I don’t need you bringing that business in here.”
“Done,” Julien nodded. “Next?”
She held up another finger. “I’m not going to hide the fact that you showed up here from Remy…or the LeBeaus, for that matter. As far as I can see, this is Assassins’ business, which means it’s distinctly not my business. You’re already asking for my help, don’t ask me to lie too.”
Julien looked less pleased about that. Rogue raised her chin, refusing to back down. She wasn’t keeping secrets from Remy about things that could impact the Guild.
Julien exhaled, rolling his eyes. “Fine.”
“Three,” another finger, “We’ll rescue Belladonna, but there may be other mutants wherever they took your sister. We take as many as we can.”
“Not exactly the Assassin protocol.” Julien crossed his arms.
“Consider it a chance to get yourself some good karma,” Rogue smiled sardonically.
“We’ll take who we can, but I’m not risking Belle,” Julien countered. “You’ll have to send your people if there are too many.”
It was a better deal than Rogue had expected. “Fair.”
“And, the last?” Julien raised an eyebrow.
“Whatever this is, I’m not walking into it just the two of us,” Rogue turned, heading for the door. Logan, you’d better be in this hallway.
Her worry was for nothing. Logan could probably smell the moment she touched the doorknob because the door jerked open, and the Wolverine stepped into the room.
“Wolverine, may I present Julien Boudreaux. Julien, Wolverine,” Rogue waved a hand.
Julien’s face didn’t change, but his posture shifted, clocking the moniker and the man in front of him. Rogue bit back a smirk. She wondered if it had finally dawned on Julien just who he’d been shooting at all those years ago at Blood Moon Bayou.
Julien nodded his head. “Bonjour.”
“Bub,” Logan grunted. He shifted his attention to her and chewed on his cigar. “Where are we headed, Stripes?”
“Marrowood, New York.”
“Pardon, Monsieur, but this is a family matter. I’d prefer to keep this private,” Julien replied, and offered Logan an apologetic smile. On anyone else, Rogue might have called the look simpering.
Logan stared at him flatly. “Rogue ain’t your family.”
“Non, but she’s known to my family, so I don’t mind bringing her in on this.”
“Listen up, Kid,” Logan said without preamble. “I knew your grandfather, and I know your father. So don’t give me that line about this being a family matter. Or, I can pull Gambit out of the field, and he can go with you. But you’ll have to wait about ten hours.”
Julien’s lip curled up in disdain. It was clear he hated the idea, but Rogue couldn’t guess if it was the suggestion that Remy join them or the idea of waiting an additional ten hours to get started. Probably both.
“Regardless,” Logan continued. “Stripes isn’t going anywhere with you alone.”
“You think I would hurt the femme?” Julien’s tone turned indignant.
“I think she gets shot at any time the Guilds pull her into something,” Logan replied. “So, what’s it gonna be? Me or Gambit?”
Julien held Logan’s stare longer than anyone Rogue had ever seen. Finally, he nodded. “Thirty minutes then.”