harder, and when his knees buckled, kicked the weakest one out from under him and rode him hard to the ground. Hit his head once against the floor, not holding back as she was accustomed to doing, because she was weak now, just human, and she needed all the strength these muscles could give her. She heard a satisfying crack, and the man went very still.
Rogue stood, muscles unaccustomedly sore. She never hurt this bad when fighting Magneto. She turned to go after another of the nurse's attackers and got slammed in the gut with a nightstick.
"Get down!" screamed a security guard, two words which Rogue dimly realized she had been hearing a lot of for the past minute or so. He hit her again and Rogue fell to her knees, trying to protect her head as he landed a third blow across her shoulders. Everyone near the fight, participant or not, was getting slugged into submission. The people in charge were too upset to differentiate between good and bad. Rogue huddled in a tight ball, waiting for another blow. It never came; the security guard had already moved on to someone else. The fight was dying down; the nurse's attackers were all on the ground, and several people cared for the injured employee.
A not-so-gentle hand touched Rogues back. She peered up into Suzy's face.
"Bad cards," she muttered, the colors of her gaze twirling like a pinwheel. Blood flecked her chin. "You're in a lot of trouble."
No kidding. She hurt bad. Stifling a groan, Rogue tried to stand. Her knee popped. If this was what getting old felt like, then she knew why people fought it, kicking and screaming.
She saw Scott and Kurt—or rather, their new bodies- edging close. They appeared concerned. She waggled her fingers at them and mouthed, "I'm okay."
"No," Suzy said, gazing down at the man lying so still at their feet. "You're not."
Rogue stared at her, and then studied that quiet body, the unmoving chest. A deep chill spread through her, accompanied by dread, horror.
"No," she murmured, bending down to feel the man's throat.
No, it's not possible, I'm not strong enough, I'm only human.
Human, maybe. But still strong enough to kill.
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters
4
Security took Rogue away. Scott watched, un- able to do a thing to stop them. He and Kurt tried; they went to the supervising nurse, who happened to be Nurse Penn, to argue on her behalf. All they got for their trouble was a strange look and a simple, "I know what happened, I saw it all."
Scott was not comforted.
"Now what?" Kurt asked. "What will they do to her?"
Penn shrugged. "Jane will be locked up until the administrator has time to review the case. If they find she murdered that kid with deliberate intent, she'll probably be shipped off to the psychiatric ward of the state prison facility. Even if she's not found guilty, she'll probably be sent there. That woman is too dangerous for this place. Something you know all about, huh, Renny?"
Penn did not wait for an answer. He left them, walking quickly after the small group hauling away Rogue. The men who had started the fight lay on the ground in a drugged heap. A security guard prodded their ribs with his nightstick.
Scott and Kurt followed Nurse Penn. He never turned around to see if anyone watched him, which was good, because Scott did not want to explain why he and Renny, two of the most unlikely people to be interested in Jane's welfare, seemed so concerned.
He was glad Rogue did not fight them, and watched her straight back, her careful easy walk. They took her to the third floor, to a nurses' station where the woman at the desk looked at Rogue without much surprise. Scott and Kurt hung back in the stairwell, trying to listen as the hospital employees argued about where to put her. The station nurse wanted Rogue locked up in her own room, but the security guards—and Penn—thought there was too much furniture, too many resources to make a weapon, especially in her "current state."
The current
MR. PINK-WHISTLE INTERFERES