Who: Rogue When: Day 3, after the one with Wanda What: Taking a break Where: Cave J Warnings: PG, Hunger Games
She ached, entire body smarting from the fall into the ground below. The dislocated shoulder had been popped back in, easing some of the pain, but the entire area still felt tender. The rest of her didn’t seem to have been injured as badly, though Rogue could feel the bruises forming and knew she would hurt worse tomorrow. There wasn’t much to do but grin and bear it though and she was more than used to doing so. She’d fashioned one of her wool garments into a sling as best she could, trying to keep her arm as immobile as possible for the next day or so, and longer if she could manage it.
The last thing she wanted was to be hampered by it, or have anyone else they might come across think she was vulnerable. Being seen as that didn’t seem like it would be the best position to be in while there. And while Rogue trusted Wanda and even Bucky to a degree, she wasn’t sure who else was out there that she could trust.
Had Hank trusted whoever had killed him? Had Pietro? Or had it been someone they didn’t know, had they seen it coming or had they been blindsided? She wasn’t sure one was better than the other...though she remembered how much it had hurt that first time Mystique had stabbed her in the gut.
Rogue had never expected her mother to really do that. She’d seen Raven Darkholme take down countless people, battled her numerous times as an X-Man, but that knife in the gut had been so unexpected and hurt twice as much as any that had come before it because of the love she had for that woman. Every other instance only added to the bitterness that Rogue couldn’t seem to shake when she thought about the woman, happy memories twisting into later, awful ones more often than not. She hadn’t even been surprised by that last gunshot, hadn’t she been expecting Raven to turn on all of them by that point?
She balled her fists, digging her nails into her palm, and sucked in a breath at the pain that lanced through her arm and up her shoulder. Thinking about Raven Darkholme wouldn’t do her any good here. She wouldn’t waste her time on someone who didn’t seem to know what love and loyalty really meant. Instead she thought focused her thoughts on the rest of her friends and family, tried to recall the good times at the mansion, and even the little moments of the week before the caves. Anything but that woman and all the crap that had occurred between them.