“THE HOUSE THAT BUILT ME”
Part Four
Editor's Note: This issue takes place after X-Men Annual 2008 but before New X-Men #1.
On the outskirts of Caldecott County, at a junkyard owned and operated by Roy Handler, nearly a dozen or so of members of the Grim Hangmen biker club circulated about a clearing surrounded by crushed and demolished vehicles near a small office building. Their van and motorcycles were parked haphazardly about the junkyard.
Callie Betto, their president’s teenage niece, was inside of the office building with him awaiting her fate. There was a meet scheduled between the club and some dealers from south of the border. They club was expecting a big payday in exchange for Callie. Her mutant abilities to manipulate plants and rapidly accelerate their maturation and growth made her a hot commodity in the drug trade. With the right deal, the gang could retire practically overnight. More than likely, they would use their profits to expand their operations and influence.
“Man, how much longer are we waitin’?” a biker asked as he took a drag from his cigarette.
“Boss says the spics are runnin’ late,” another biker said with a shrug.
“Fuckin’ Mexican time,” the first biker said with the shake of his head.
“Fuckin’ Mexican time,” the other biker confirmed with a nod.
“I think they’re Columbian,” a third biker quietly chimed in.
The first two bikers stared at the third. There was a harsh silence.
“Man, shut the fuck up,” the second biker said. “Just be on the lookout. Stay frosty. They might be scoutin’ us out, tryin’ to rip us off.”
The third biker grumbled something and walked off. As the other two bikers remained behind, the moonlight overhead began to dim as dark clouds began to form overhead. A cool breeze picked up and suddenly rain broke out.
“The fuck?” the first biker grumbled as he and his comrades observed the sudden downpour.
“Supposed to be clear weather tonight,” the second biker thought out loud.
“Fuckin’ weird, man,” the first biker said with a bit of a laugh.
In a mere few moments, the wind began to kick up harshly and the rain began to sting.
“Holy crap, man, this is ridiculous,” the first biker said as his comrades began hustling about to try and get out of the rain. The stinging rain turned into volleys of hail, smacking them, their motorcycles, and the van with audible thuds and thumps.
“Seriously, what the fuck is happenin’?!” the second biker yelled as he tried to cover his face.
“The elements marshal their infinite might at my beckoning! Power seethes in the rolling clouds! Now, at my command -- STRIKE!”
As the Grim Hangmen scrambled about the junkyard under the howling winds and unrelenting hail, lightning ripped across the dark clouds. A lone dirt bike ascended a nearby mountain of crushed and contorted vehicles and soared off of into the air high above them, its mechanical roar masked by the turbulent weather. Only the keen eyed noticed a woman leap off of the bike as it began to glow brightly with bright pink kinetic energy. In short order, gravity pulled the bike crashing down towards the gang.
“INCOMING!” one of the bikers yelled.
“The gentleman assumes the pot is his to win... but I have a literal ace up my sleeve.”
The dirt bike crashed into the empty van at the center of their meet and exploded on impact. A ball of flames sent shrapnel and vehicle parts flying in all directions, and the sheer force of the explosion propelled many of the unfortunate Grim Hangmen through the air like ragdolls. Many were stunned by the sudden attack while some others were knocked winded or unconscious from impact.
Rogue fell from the sky above the explosion and seemed to transform into translucent ice mid-air as the storm raged above them. A spiraling slide of ice erupted from the ground near the flaming wreckage of the bike and van, catching her. She slid down it on her feet like a surfer would ride a wave.
As the bikers began to regain their senses and aim their weapons at her, the X-Woman unleashed powerful beams of ice from one hand at each of them while simultaneously forming an ice bridge under her feet at the bottom of the ice slide to carry her in a wide arc around them. The men fell in short order to the shivering arctic blasts, some even being frozen to the ground they stood at. Their bullets only soared off-mark or ricocheted off of the ice bridge underneath her; none hit their target.
“The day I can't laugh at how ridiculous this all is, while still loving every single second of it, is the day I walk away and find a new line of work!”
Rogue leapt off of the ice bridge as the armed men still standing began surrounding her from all sides. She shed the ice form in favor for lilac skin and green pupil-less eyes, and hit the ground running in a zig-zag fashion around her enemies. They fired erratically at her with numerous types of handguns and shotguns, but she had them off-balance and was able to evade each shot. As she came within range of a biker, she would pull a bolt from the quiver still on her back and chuck it into them, embedding its tip in their torsos or limbs. One by one, the men would disappear in a flash of lilac light, then reappear and collapse to the ground, convulsing wildly.
“I'm strange? Look, haven't you heard the expression, ‘People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw shotguns and knives?’”
She came to a stop as the last of her enemies fell, or so she thought. The sound of a shotgun cocking behind her caught her attention. She spun around just in time to catch a blast to the chest, but to the shooter’s surprise the slug just bounce of her with a metallic ring. He looked to in sudden shock. Rogue had transformed again into a metallic state, growing over a foot in height and nearly a hundred pounds in weight, and marched straight for him. He cocked his shotgun and fired another round into, and a third, and then a forth, all to a similar effect.
Cling. Clang. Pching.
She came upon him in an instant and snatched the gun out of his hands, bending it with ease and chucking it aside. She then grabbed him by the collar and lifted him into the air with a single hand.
“Fuckin’ shit, bitch!” Boone screamed. “Who are you?! What d’ya want?!”
“I believe tyrants such as you should be crushed...does that answer your question?”
Rogue grit her teeth and choke slammed Boone into the ground, leaving his body a battered and dazed mess.
“Does that answer your question?”
The only response she got was an agonizing groan of a defeated, petty man.
She took a look around the junkyard, taking note of the incapacitated bikers and flaming wreckage, as the storm she summoned began to die down. Suddenly, she let out a deep sigh and nearly keeled over. Her body seemed to shimmer as she shrunk to her normal height and petite form, and her skin returned to flesh.
While she had the ability to temporarily recall any mutant power set and persona that she had ever absorbed, she rarely rotated through so many in such quick succession while in combat. It had nearly exhausted her.
To her dismay, that’s when the sound of a door getting kicked open on the other side of the junkyard startled. She looked in that direction and saw a middle-aged man dragging Callie out of a building, using her as a human shield of sorts, with a gun to her head. It was Roy “Handlebar” Handler, the president of the Grim Hangmen. It had to be.
“Damn, lady, you are one stone cold bitch,” Handler said as looked over her handiwork. His gang was decimated. “Fuckin’ straight up savage-ass freak show.”
Rogue stood up straight and clenched her fists, slowly approaching Roy and Callie.
“If that’s true, ah can’t imagine it’s a good idea to insult me, or t’be swingin’ that gun around, or t’ y’know… be pissin’ me off in general…”
“Stop!” Roy shouted as he dug the gun into Callie’s temple. Rogue reluctantly did as he said, but narrowed her eyes on him. “Lemme tell ya how this is gonna go, sweet cheeks. I’m gettin’ the fuck outta here with my niece and you can eat shit an’ die for all I care, but you follow me an’ she’s dead, ya hear? Comprende?”
She had to stall. Her powers hadn’t recovered yet and she wasn’t sure of her next move. “Ya really think this is any way t’ treat a lady, let alone your niece? Flesh an’ blood?”
Handler just laughed at an absurd laugh.
“Ain’t no such thing as a free lunch, darlin’,” he said with a crooked smile. “We took her in when her parents bit it. Way I see it, this is just her way of pullin’ her weight.”
“Ah think she’s done pullin’,” Rogue said sharply. “Been done pullin’, by the looks of it.”
“That ain’t for you t’ decide. Now if you’ll kindly fuck off, we’ll be takin’ our le–“
Handler froze in place, his mouth gaping open and his eyes widened. Callie glanced up at him, noticing that he wasn’t moving or saying anything, but that she was still trapped under his trunk of an arm. She mumbled something under his hand and looked to Rogue, whose eyes went white and pupil-less. Rogue stared intensely at Handler, focusing the telepathic abilities she summoned.
“You wanted to know... why we are necessary? Here is the reason! People like her, mutants like ourselves -- for if we don't stand up to defend them, who will?!”
“ARGHHH!!” Handler suddenly screamed. He dropped his gun and released Callie before he collapsed to his knees, grabbing his head in agony.
Callie broke into a sprint away from her captor, looking back in horror as he writhed in pain. Rogue’s eyes returned to normal and she reached out to the girl. Callie looked to her and ran into her embrace. The two hugged tightly.
“You alright, Callie?” Rogue asked as she released Callie.
“I came believe you came for me!” she exclaimed.
“Well, ol’ Prissy’s daughters gotta stick together, am ah right?” Rogue said with a smirk.
Callie let out an exasperated laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.” She looked back to her murderous uncle, who laid sprawled on the ground, rocking back and forth. “What did you do to him?”
“Just an old trick a friend taught me,” Rogue said quietly. “That man’s got some real dark memories. Ah was bettin’ that he had to have, given the monster he became. Makin’ him relive them all at once seemed like a fitting punishment for all he’d done tonight.”
“You can do that…?” Callie seemed astounded.
“Ah can do a lot more than just that,” Rogue grinned as she gestured around the junk yard turned battlefield. Callie glanced around and swallowed back the lump in her throat.
“What… What now?
Rogue put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath, giving the question some thought.
“Ah’d say it’s ‘bout time we got the hell outta here, sugah. For good.”
******************************************
The following morning, Marie and Callie found themselves at a diner on the outskirts of Caldecott. After the night they had they were starving, so they ordered just about everything on the menu from coffee and orange juice to flapjacks and grits. They spent most of the morning in silence, trying to process what had happened and to decide their next move.
As they shoveled food into their mouths, the bell at the diner’s entrance rang and Deputy Taylor walked in with a white styrofoam cup in his hand. He glanced around the diner casually. In moments, he spotted them and strolled in their direction as of on a mission. Marie had called him from an old payphone when they first arrived at the diner just to let him know that they were both safe, but she honestly hadn’t expected him to track them so down quickly.
“Ladies,” Taylor said as he sat down in the booth. He took off his hat and set on the table as he looked the two up and down. “Looks like you’re both havin’ a well-deserved breakfast.”
“You could say that,” Marie said with her mouth half-full of eggs and chicken fried steak. Taylor looked over to Callie and seemed to stare a hole into her as she ate.
“This our li’l damsel?” he finally said. Callie glared at him. Marie rolled her eyes. Neither one of them seemed intent on answering him. “Oh, relax. I’m just pokin’ fun. What’s your name, girl?”
The girl pushed her food to the side of her mouth and grumbled. “Callie.”
Taylor nodded.
“You’re one brave girl, Callie. Bet you gave them sons o’ bitches a hell of a fight, too,” the deputy said as he leaned over and pulled out his wallet. He withdrew a few bills and set them down on the table in front of Callie, then nodded to the front of the restaurant. “Why don’t you go get yourself a li’l somethin’ from the gift shop? It’s on me.”
Callie looked at the money and slowly reached for it, seeing that it must have been at least fifty dollars. She looked up to Marie who nodded to her affirming.
“Go on, Callie. We’ll catch up.”
Callie nodded, finished chewing her food and wiped her face, then shuffled out of the booth toward the gift shop. Marie also finished chewing her food and looked to Taylor.
“So what’s the word, deputy?” she asked.
“Good news an’ bad news,” he began. “Good news is feds picked up Handler an’ his boys, as well as them other fellas they were meetin’ at the junk yard. They think they found enough evidence at their meet to put ‘em away for quite some time. I reckon we all got you t’ think for that.”
Marie nodded. “And Callie?”
“That’s the bad news, unfortunately,” he said as he took a swig from the coffee he brought in with him. “I made a couple calls this mornin’. Not only does she not have anyone, but no body’s really been lookin’ for her, either. Gonna have to make a call to CPS and get somebody out here to pick her up.”
Marie grew quiet. She looked down to her food and set down her fork, then leaned back into her seat and looked out the window. Taylor could tell she was thinking about something, but wasn’t quite sure what it could be.
As a teenager not much older than Callie, in her first days with the X-Men, Rogue sat hugging her knees to her chest in the window nook of Professor Charles Xavier’s study. Rain was pounding into the window from a night time storm. She was breathing deeply with a deep pain in her chest, her eyes sullen and wet.
“Ah don’t know if ah can do this, professor. Bein’ a hero,” Rogue said through tears. “Ah just have so much baggage from my own childhood. Ah’ve done so much wrong t’ others. How can they ever forgive me or trust me? How can ah ever be strong enough t’ do the right thing?”
Professor Xavier rolled up to her in his wheelchair and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. She glanced over to him, but with head still hanging low.
“Child, I want you to look at me so you can tell that I’m being sincere,” he said with a stoic demeanor. Rogue wiped away her tears and looked up to him. “If I’ve learned anything from doing this for as long as I have, it’s that by helping others we can learn how to help ourselves. I truly believe that you’re not only strong enough to help others, but deserving enough to help yourself.”
Rogue stared into her mentor’s eyes as his words settled in. For the first time since arriving at the Xavier Institute she not only believed him, but she believed in herself.
Marie looked back to the deputy with a sense of conviction.
“What if she came with me?” she finally asked.
Taylor didn’t quite know what to say. He cleared his throat and sat up, clasping his hands.
“Now, Marie, I know she’s cute, but she ain’t exactly a stray puppy. You don’t just take her home an’ tie her up in the backyard, throw her some kibble an’ pour her some water every now and then, an’ call it a day,” he said with a soft tone. “You gotta know there’s a process to somethin’ like this, an’ it’s a lotta hard work for anyone, especially a young woman like yourself.”
Marie shook her head and waved her hands at him. “Ah know, ah know, deputy, but… ah also know of a place,” she explained. “For people like us. They can take care of her an’ she can be around other kids like her.” Taylor looked at her skeptically and so she crossed her heart with one and raised a two finger salute with the other. “It’s all on the up ‘n up. Scout’s honor.”
“And how do you know that?” Taylor said with his head cocked to the side.
“Because they took me in… an’ quite a few other strays, for that matter,” Marie continued to plead her case. “And ah work there. Sorta.”
Taylor took a deep breath and leaned back into his seat. He took another swig from his coffee and stared out the window of their booth with deep apprehension. He was a lawman, through and through, and he had a job to do. He swore an oath to protect others and serve the community’s best interest. That usually didn’t mean handing runaways off to super-powered vigilante he just met. But then again, it wasn’t like the Caldecott County Sheriff’s Department had been a bastion of integrity in recent years, as the whole town will soon learn.
“Well, you don’t seem like you turned out that bad,” he finally decided. “Got a feelin’ I might not have much of a choice in the matter, either, if you really wanted to put up a fight.”
Marie reached out and touched his hand. He looked down to her hand and then back up to her, locking eyes.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“Don’t mention it,” Taylor said, patting her hand. He picked up his hat and started to sit up out of the both. “And I mean, literally, don’t mention it to anyone,” he added with a stern brow. “It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for this town an’ all she’s been through.”
The deputy put on his hat and began to walk towards the door without much else. As he passed by a returning Callie, who was wearing a new pair of sunglasses and a baggy white t-shirt with a a demonic looking angel on it, he stopped briefly.
“You take care of our mutual friend, okay, girl?” Taylor said, pointing a finger at her authoritatively. He glanced back to Marie, then down to Callie. “She’s one of the good ones.”
Callie didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded slowly. Taylor continued his stride out of the restaurant. In a few moments he was in his truck and gone just as quickly as he stopped in.
Marie tossed a few bills on the table, sat up out of the booth, and met Callie halfway on her way back to the table.
“Nice digs,” she said with a smirk, reaching out and tousling the girl’s hair. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I think I am,” Callie said with a tired sigh.
Marie put her arm around the girl’s shoulder and they walked out to the dirt parking lot of the diner together. They walked up to the motorcycle they had stolen from the junkyard and climbed on top of it. The X-Woman pulled out a small set of keys from her pocket and plugged them into the ignition.
“So where we goin’ next?” Callie asked as she wrapped her arms around Marie’s waist.
“Home,” Marie said simply. “My real home, ah mean.”
Callie nodded and pressed the side of her head against Marie’s back. She started up the motorcycle and pulled them out of the parking lot, riding east for New York.
******************************************
THE END
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
Hey folks!
I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who supported and reviewed this four-parter in X-Men Unlimited. Everyone’s feedback is always valuable and greatly appreciated, and I’m glad to know that at least some of you enjoyed reading. I hope it helped rejuvenate the X-Men Branch’s anthology title, too. I know the super-awesome Brad Horton has a story coming up next month, so be sure to stick around and check that out. His work’s always bomb diggity.
Since this story references Marvel 2000 specific continuity (and since Rogue’s history took a noticeable detour from mainstream Marvel Comics), I’ve decided to include a bibliography at the bottom of this issue to provide some background for those who are curious. I also recommend checking out some of the old X-Men Branch stories found in the bibliography. M2K was doing some pretty epic stuff back then and it was a real pleasure to dive back into them.
Thanks again for reading!
- Cory Wiegel
July 19th, 2017
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Bibliography
Callie Betto, their president’s teenage niece, was inside of the office building with him awaiting her fate. There was a meet scheduled between the club and some dealers from south of the border. They club was expecting a big payday in exchange for Callie. Her mutant abilities to manipulate plants and rapidly accelerate their maturation and growth made her a hot commodity in the drug trade. With the right deal, the gang could retire practically overnight. More than likely, they would use their profits to expand their operations and influence.
“Man, how much longer are we waitin’?” a biker asked as he took a drag from his cigarette.
“Boss says the spics are runnin’ late,” another biker said with a shrug.
“Fuckin’ Mexican time,” the first biker said with the shake of his head.
“Fuckin’ Mexican time,” the other biker confirmed with a nod.
“I think they’re Columbian,” a third biker quietly chimed in.
The first two bikers stared at the third. There was a harsh silence.
“Man, shut the fuck up,” the second biker said. “Just be on the lookout. Stay frosty. They might be scoutin’ us out, tryin’ to rip us off.”
The third biker grumbled something and walked off. As the other two bikers remained behind, the moonlight overhead began to dim as dark clouds began to form overhead. A cool breeze picked up and suddenly rain broke out.
“The fuck?” the first biker grumbled as he and his comrades observed the sudden downpour.
“Supposed to be clear weather tonight,” the second biker thought out loud.
“Fuckin’ weird, man,” the first biker said with a bit of a laugh.
In a mere few moments, the wind began to kick up harshly and the rain began to sting.
“Holy crap, man, this is ridiculous,” the first biker said as his comrades began hustling about to try and get out of the rain. The stinging rain turned into volleys of hail, smacking them, their motorcycles, and the van with audible thuds and thumps.
“Seriously, what the fuck is happenin’?!” the second biker yelled as he tried to cover his face.
“The elements marshal their infinite might at my beckoning! Power seethes in the rolling clouds! Now, at my command -- STRIKE!”
As the Grim Hangmen scrambled about the junkyard under the howling winds and unrelenting hail, lightning ripped across the dark clouds. A lone dirt bike ascended a nearby mountain of crushed and contorted vehicles and soared off of into the air high above them, its mechanical roar masked by the turbulent weather. Only the keen eyed noticed a woman leap off of the bike as it began to glow brightly with bright pink kinetic energy. In short order, gravity pulled the bike crashing down towards the gang.
“INCOMING!” one of the bikers yelled.
“The gentleman assumes the pot is his to win... but I have a literal ace up my sleeve.”
The dirt bike crashed into the empty van at the center of their meet and exploded on impact. A ball of flames sent shrapnel and vehicle parts flying in all directions, and the sheer force of the explosion propelled many of the unfortunate Grim Hangmen through the air like ragdolls. Many were stunned by the sudden attack while some others were knocked winded or unconscious from impact.
Rogue fell from the sky above the explosion and seemed to transform into translucent ice mid-air as the storm raged above them. A spiraling slide of ice erupted from the ground near the flaming wreckage of the bike and van, catching her. She slid down it on her feet like a surfer would ride a wave.
As the bikers began to regain their senses and aim their weapons at her, the X-Woman unleashed powerful beams of ice from one hand at each of them while simultaneously forming an ice bridge under her feet at the bottom of the ice slide to carry her in a wide arc around them. The men fell in short order to the shivering arctic blasts, some even being frozen to the ground they stood at. Their bullets only soared off-mark or ricocheted off of the ice bridge underneath her; none hit their target.
“The day I can't laugh at how ridiculous this all is, while still loving every single second of it, is the day I walk away and find a new line of work!”
Rogue leapt off of the ice bridge as the armed men still standing began surrounding her from all sides. She shed the ice form in favor for lilac skin and green pupil-less eyes, and hit the ground running in a zig-zag fashion around her enemies. They fired erratically at her with numerous types of handguns and shotguns, but she had them off-balance and was able to evade each shot. As she came within range of a biker, she would pull a bolt from the quiver still on her back and chuck it into them, embedding its tip in their torsos or limbs. One by one, the men would disappear in a flash of lilac light, then reappear and collapse to the ground, convulsing wildly.
“I'm strange? Look, haven't you heard the expression, ‘People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw shotguns and knives?’”
She came to a stop as the last of her enemies fell, or so she thought. The sound of a shotgun cocking behind her caught her attention. She spun around just in time to catch a blast to the chest, but to the shooter’s surprise the slug just bounce of her with a metallic ring. He looked to in sudden shock. Rogue had transformed again into a metallic state, growing over a foot in height and nearly a hundred pounds in weight, and marched straight for him. He cocked his shotgun and fired another round into, and a third, and then a forth, all to a similar effect.
Cling. Clang. Pching.
She came upon him in an instant and snatched the gun out of his hands, bending it with ease and chucking it aside. She then grabbed him by the collar and lifted him into the air with a single hand.
“Fuckin’ shit, bitch!” Boone screamed. “Who are you?! What d’ya want?!”
“I believe tyrants such as you should be crushed...does that answer your question?”
Rogue grit her teeth and choke slammed Boone into the ground, leaving his body a battered and dazed mess.
“Does that answer your question?”
The only response she got was an agonizing groan of a defeated, petty man.
She took a look around the junkyard, taking note of the incapacitated bikers and flaming wreckage, as the storm she summoned began to die down. Suddenly, she let out a deep sigh and nearly keeled over. Her body seemed to shimmer as she shrunk to her normal height and petite form, and her skin returned to flesh.
While she had the ability to temporarily recall any mutant power set and persona that she had ever absorbed, she rarely rotated through so many in such quick succession while in combat. It had nearly exhausted her.
To her dismay, that’s when the sound of a door getting kicked open on the other side of the junkyard startled. She looked in that direction and saw a middle-aged man dragging Callie out of a building, using her as a human shield of sorts, with a gun to her head. It was Roy “Handlebar” Handler, the president of the Grim Hangmen. It had to be.
“Damn, lady, you are one stone cold bitch,” Handler said as looked over her handiwork. His gang was decimated. “Fuckin’ straight up savage-ass freak show.”
Rogue stood up straight and clenched her fists, slowly approaching Roy and Callie.
“If that’s true, ah can’t imagine it’s a good idea to insult me, or t’be swingin’ that gun around, or t’ y’know… be pissin’ me off in general…”
“Stop!” Roy shouted as he dug the gun into Callie’s temple. Rogue reluctantly did as he said, but narrowed her eyes on him. “Lemme tell ya how this is gonna go, sweet cheeks. I’m gettin’ the fuck outta here with my niece and you can eat shit an’ die for all I care, but you follow me an’ she’s dead, ya hear? Comprende?”
She had to stall. Her powers hadn’t recovered yet and she wasn’t sure of her next move. “Ya really think this is any way t’ treat a lady, let alone your niece? Flesh an’ blood?”
Handler just laughed at an absurd laugh.
“Ain’t no such thing as a free lunch, darlin’,” he said with a crooked smile. “We took her in when her parents bit it. Way I see it, this is just her way of pullin’ her weight.”
“Ah think she’s done pullin’,” Rogue said sharply. “Been done pullin’, by the looks of it.”
“That ain’t for you t’ decide. Now if you’ll kindly fuck off, we’ll be takin’ our le–“
Handler froze in place, his mouth gaping open and his eyes widened. Callie glanced up at him, noticing that he wasn’t moving or saying anything, but that she was still trapped under his trunk of an arm. She mumbled something under his hand and looked to Rogue, whose eyes went white and pupil-less. Rogue stared intensely at Handler, focusing the telepathic abilities she summoned.
“You wanted to know... why we are necessary? Here is the reason! People like her, mutants like ourselves -- for if we don't stand up to defend them, who will?!”
“ARGHHH!!” Handler suddenly screamed. He dropped his gun and released Callie before he collapsed to his knees, grabbing his head in agony.
Callie broke into a sprint away from her captor, looking back in horror as he writhed in pain. Rogue’s eyes returned to normal and she reached out to the girl. Callie looked to her and ran into her embrace. The two hugged tightly.
“You alright, Callie?” Rogue asked as she released Callie.
“I came believe you came for me!” she exclaimed.
“Well, ol’ Prissy’s daughters gotta stick together, am ah right?” Rogue said with a smirk.
Callie let out an exasperated laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.” She looked back to her murderous uncle, who laid sprawled on the ground, rocking back and forth. “What did you do to him?”
“Just an old trick a friend taught me,” Rogue said quietly. “That man’s got some real dark memories. Ah was bettin’ that he had to have, given the monster he became. Makin’ him relive them all at once seemed like a fitting punishment for all he’d done tonight.”
“You can do that…?” Callie seemed astounded.
“Ah can do a lot more than just that,” Rogue grinned as she gestured around the junk yard turned battlefield. Callie glanced around and swallowed back the lump in her throat.
“What… What now?
Rogue put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath, giving the question some thought.
“Ah’d say it’s ‘bout time we got the hell outta here, sugah. For good.”
******************************************
The following morning, Marie and Callie found themselves at a diner on the outskirts of Caldecott. After the night they had they were starving, so they ordered just about everything on the menu from coffee and orange juice to flapjacks and grits. They spent most of the morning in silence, trying to process what had happened and to decide their next move.
As they shoveled food into their mouths, the bell at the diner’s entrance rang and Deputy Taylor walked in with a white styrofoam cup in his hand. He glanced around the diner casually. In moments, he spotted them and strolled in their direction as of on a mission. Marie had called him from an old payphone when they first arrived at the diner just to let him know that they were both safe, but she honestly hadn’t expected him to track them so down quickly.
“Ladies,” Taylor said as he sat down in the booth. He took off his hat and set on the table as he looked the two up and down. “Looks like you’re both havin’ a well-deserved breakfast.”
“You could say that,” Marie said with her mouth half-full of eggs and chicken fried steak. Taylor looked over to Callie and seemed to stare a hole into her as she ate.
“This our li’l damsel?” he finally said. Callie glared at him. Marie rolled her eyes. Neither one of them seemed intent on answering him. “Oh, relax. I’m just pokin’ fun. What’s your name, girl?”
The girl pushed her food to the side of her mouth and grumbled. “Callie.”
Taylor nodded.
“You’re one brave girl, Callie. Bet you gave them sons o’ bitches a hell of a fight, too,” the deputy said as he leaned over and pulled out his wallet. He withdrew a few bills and set them down on the table in front of Callie, then nodded to the front of the restaurant. “Why don’t you go get yourself a li’l somethin’ from the gift shop? It’s on me.”
Callie looked at the money and slowly reached for it, seeing that it must have been at least fifty dollars. She looked up to Marie who nodded to her affirming.
“Go on, Callie. We’ll catch up.”
Callie nodded, finished chewing her food and wiped her face, then shuffled out of the booth toward the gift shop. Marie also finished chewing her food and looked to Taylor.
“So what’s the word, deputy?” she asked.
“Good news an’ bad news,” he began. “Good news is feds picked up Handler an’ his boys, as well as them other fellas they were meetin’ at the junk yard. They think they found enough evidence at their meet to put ‘em away for quite some time. I reckon we all got you t’ think for that.”
Marie nodded. “And Callie?”
“That’s the bad news, unfortunately,” he said as he took a swig from the coffee he brought in with him. “I made a couple calls this mornin’. Not only does she not have anyone, but no body’s really been lookin’ for her, either. Gonna have to make a call to CPS and get somebody out here to pick her up.”
Marie grew quiet. She looked down to her food and set down her fork, then leaned back into her seat and looked out the window. Taylor could tell she was thinking about something, but wasn’t quite sure what it could be.
As a teenager not much older than Callie, in her first days with the X-Men, Rogue sat hugging her knees to her chest in the window nook of Professor Charles Xavier’s study. Rain was pounding into the window from a night time storm. She was breathing deeply with a deep pain in her chest, her eyes sullen and wet.
“Ah don’t know if ah can do this, professor. Bein’ a hero,” Rogue said through tears. “Ah just have so much baggage from my own childhood. Ah’ve done so much wrong t’ others. How can they ever forgive me or trust me? How can ah ever be strong enough t’ do the right thing?”
Professor Xavier rolled up to her in his wheelchair and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. She glanced over to him, but with head still hanging low.
“Child, I want you to look at me so you can tell that I’m being sincere,” he said with a stoic demeanor. Rogue wiped away her tears and looked up to him. “If I’ve learned anything from doing this for as long as I have, it’s that by helping others we can learn how to help ourselves. I truly believe that you’re not only strong enough to help others, but deserving enough to help yourself.”
Rogue stared into her mentor’s eyes as his words settled in. For the first time since arriving at the Xavier Institute she not only believed him, but she believed in herself.
Marie looked back to the deputy with a sense of conviction.
“What if she came with me?” she finally asked.
Taylor didn’t quite know what to say. He cleared his throat and sat up, clasping his hands.
“Now, Marie, I know she’s cute, but she ain’t exactly a stray puppy. You don’t just take her home an’ tie her up in the backyard, throw her some kibble an’ pour her some water every now and then, an’ call it a day,” he said with a soft tone. “You gotta know there’s a process to somethin’ like this, an’ it’s a lotta hard work for anyone, especially a young woman like yourself.”
Marie shook her head and waved her hands at him. “Ah know, ah know, deputy, but… ah also know of a place,” she explained. “For people like us. They can take care of her an’ she can be around other kids like her.” Taylor looked at her skeptically and so she crossed her heart with one and raised a two finger salute with the other. “It’s all on the up ‘n up. Scout’s honor.”
“And how do you know that?” Taylor said with his head cocked to the side.
“Because they took me in… an’ quite a few other strays, for that matter,” Marie continued to plead her case. “And ah work there. Sorta.”
Taylor took a deep breath and leaned back into his seat. He took another swig from his coffee and stared out the window of their booth with deep apprehension. He was a lawman, through and through, and he had a job to do. He swore an oath to protect others and serve the community’s best interest. That usually didn’t mean handing runaways off to super-powered vigilante he just met. But then again, it wasn’t like the Caldecott County Sheriff’s Department had been a bastion of integrity in recent years, as the whole town will soon learn.
“Well, you don’t seem like you turned out that bad,” he finally decided. “Got a feelin’ I might not have much of a choice in the matter, either, if you really wanted to put up a fight.”
Marie reached out and touched his hand. He looked down to her hand and then back up to her, locking eyes.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“Don’t mention it,” Taylor said, patting her hand. He picked up his hat and started to sit up out of the both. “And I mean, literally, don’t mention it to anyone,” he added with a stern brow. “It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for this town an’ all she’s been through.”
The deputy put on his hat and began to walk towards the door without much else. As he passed by a returning Callie, who was wearing a new pair of sunglasses and a baggy white t-shirt with a a demonic looking angel on it, he stopped briefly.
“You take care of our mutual friend, okay, girl?” Taylor said, pointing a finger at her authoritatively. He glanced back to Marie, then down to Callie. “She’s one of the good ones.”
Callie didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded slowly. Taylor continued his stride out of the restaurant. In a few moments he was in his truck and gone just as quickly as he stopped in.
Marie tossed a few bills on the table, sat up out of the booth, and met Callie halfway on her way back to the table.
“Nice digs,” she said with a smirk, reaching out and tousling the girl’s hair. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I think I am,” Callie said with a tired sigh.
Marie put her arm around the girl’s shoulder and they walked out to the dirt parking lot of the diner together. They walked up to the motorcycle they had stolen from the junkyard and climbed on top of it. The X-Woman pulled out a small set of keys from her pocket and plugged them into the ignition.
“So where we goin’ next?” Callie asked as she wrapped her arms around Marie’s waist.
“Home,” Marie said simply. “My real home, ah mean.”
Callie nodded and pressed the side of her head against Marie’s back. She started up the motorcycle and pulled them out of the parking lot, riding east for New York.
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THE END
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
Hey folks!
I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who supported and reviewed this four-parter in X-Men Unlimited. Everyone’s feedback is always valuable and greatly appreciated, and I’m glad to know that at least some of you enjoyed reading. I hope it helped rejuvenate the X-Men Branch’s anthology title, too. I know the super-awesome Brad Horton has a story coming up next month, so be sure to stick around and check that out. His work’s always bomb diggity.
Since this story references Marvel 2000 specific continuity (and since Rogue’s history took a noticeable detour from mainstream Marvel Comics), I’ve decided to include a bibliography at the bottom of this issue to provide some background for those who are curious. I also recommend checking out some of the old X-Men Branch stories found in the bibliography. M2K was doing some pretty epic stuff back then and it was a real pleasure to dive back into them.
Thanks again for reading!
- Cory Wiegel
July 19th, 2017
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Bibliography
- It was established that Rogue retained an imprint of everyone she ever absorbed in her psyche in the classic Uncanny X-Men #236, “Busting Loose!” by Chris Claremont and Marc Silvestri. She was able to allow an imprint of Carol Danvers to take over and help her and Wolverine fight their way out of a Genoshan citadel.
- Rogue returned to Caldecott for the first time in X-Men Omega #23, “Home Is Where the Heart Hurts,” by Dino Pollard and Brad Horton. She planned to confront her birth mother after years away from home, but was ambushed by Fabian Cortez and had her powers manipulated by him. She defeated him and seemed to finally gain control of her powers in the process. Her name was also revealed to be “Rosemarie ‘Marie’ Charleston.”
- Rogue was seemingly killed in a battle with the Apocalypse Dawn in X-Men Omega #36, “All For the Cause, Part Four,” by Dino Pollard and Brad Horton. She was later revealed to have been kidnapped by Apocalypse and transformed into his Horseman Famine in The Twelve #4, “Frigid Confidence,” by Dino Pollard. Having amplified her powers in the process, Rogue gained access to all of her previously absorbed personas and abilities (one at a time, to be precise). She was revealed to have retained this “catalogue access” in X-Men Omega #42, “Red Rum, Part One,” by Dino Pollard.
- X-Men Unlimited #53 is the first appearance of Callie Betto, a.k.a. Dryad, at Marvel 2000. She was originally introduced in New X-Men: Academy X #1, “Choosing Sides,” by Nunzio Defilippis, Christina Weir, and Randy Green (published by Marvel Comics). Due to being created after M2K’s cut-off and introduced in continuity much later on, she has a decidedly different background than the published version.
- For more on Rogue and Dryad, make sure to check out New X-Men #9, “Sympathy For the Devil, Part Three,” by yours truly!