This chapter is long overdue and not very long, but in my opinion, it's pretty intense. The beginning of the end, which will come before Christmas break, that I can guarantee for sure.

You know what I just realized? In chapter one, it says that Jubilee dropped the frying pan, but somehow, it magically reappeared in Kurt's room in chapter two…. Forgive me, just pretend she never dropped it, 'kay? :D

I can't boast that this chapter is totally great – I don't think that combat scenes are my forte; I'm more of a mindless fluff person than actually following a plotline or fights. Do me a favor and tell me how I did, yeah? I also suggest skipping the end author's not and reading the next chapter so you can calm down first before reading it.

This is the End ?

Jubilee skated down the halls, arms wrapped around her chest in an effort to preserve her body heat. She didn't bother to try checking on any other residents of the mansion: the doors were completely iced over, and she feared they'd met the same fate as Rahne. She just hoped Kurt was okay.

She found the door to the infirmary, nearly sliding past it. There was only a small layer of ice covering its frame, and she forced the door open. Inside, everything was shining like crystals, the ice refracting the light reflected off the various shiny apparatuses encased beneath. Not good.

She heard a startled yell from down the hall and raced towards the sound.

"Jubilee!"

"Kurt!" She yelled, slipping around the corner. Turning, she found Kurt sheathed in a layer of ice, panic and fear evident in his still-open eyes. About a foot in front of him was a roll of gauze, also encased in an oversized ice cube.

Kurt," she whispered, her breath clouding in front of her face. Her hands fell to her sides as a tear slipped down her cheek and her bottom lip started to quiver. Behind her, a cold, mirthless laugh interrupted her sorrow.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded, whirling to face the imposter, ignoring the tears welling in her eyes. She held the staff up as if to ward off the truth that she didn't want to face.

"Nothing really," the iceman said, a humorless smirk contorting his face. "Just froze him. Nothing big."

"And Rahne? And the others?" Jubilee rubbed furiously at her eyes, not wanting to show any signs of weakness. She glared at him. "You killed them, too?"

Bobby laughed at this. "Killed? No. Frozen – yes. Can be melted, it will just be very… cold."

Jubilee looked at Kurt, then back up at the frozen man. "And what did you do with Bobby?"

Iceman's eyes narrowed. "I told you. I am Bobby. I'm getting tired of this question."

"No, you're not!" Jubilee yelled, edging backwards.

"Sorry to disappoint, then," he said coldly. He flicked his wrist and shards of ice went flying through the air in Jubilee's direction. Without thinking, she dropped to the ground and rolled. The shards embedded themselves in the ice where they came in contact with the ground.

Getting back up, she was met by a barrage of snowball-sized hailstones. Barely managing to deflect them with Remy's staff, she decided she'd need a new weapon – she wasn't skilled enough for it to be of any use to her. Dropping the staff, she took a firm hold on the frying pan like it was a baseball bat. A final ball of ice, now softball sized, came flying at her.

Now or never.

Jubilee wasn't good at baseball. Or softball. Or tennis. Or badminton. Or racquetball. Or squash. Or even ping-pong. Basically anything that required hand-eye coordination could be counted out. The probability of actually meeting her target would be very low, bordering nonexistent.

She swung and… hit the ice. The vibrations traveled up her arms, but she didn't let go or weaken her grip. The ice shattered, save for the core. It sped back towards its maker at impossible speeds.

Just as surprised as Jubilee, Iceman raised his hand and caught the ball. On impact, the ice that made up his arm fractured, cracks splintering off in every direction like spider webs. But Jubilee wasn't watching. She'd dropped the frying pan* – which now had a large dent in it – and was running down the hall.

She ducked into the rec room, and as the tell-tale shhh-ing sound of ice making approached, her leg flew up in a perfect high kick and slammed into Iceman's jaw as he crossed through the doorway.

His neck snapped up and he fell back, his head slamming into a bookcase behind him. Books, videogames, paperweights, and other miscellaneous items rained on him as he crumpled to the ground.

Jubilee watched him warily, settling into a ready position with a low center of gravity, her hands up to guard her torso. She hated to hurt him, but she wasn't helpless, and she wasn't going to act like it.

The hunk of living ice moaned. "Ow, jeez, my neck hurts like crackers."

Jubilee was across the room in a flash and crouching in front of him before she could even consider the danger. "Bobby? Is that you?" She looked into his eyes, the steel grey ones that held warmth and laughter, not the ones that were cold and evil.

"Yeah, who else?" He joked weakly, though she saw pain in his expression. "Jubes," he said, turning serious. "He's not me."

"I know, Bobby," she said, taking his cold hand in hers. "I know he's not you."

"He's not me." He repeated weakly, his eyes drooping slightly before falling closed. "You've gotta stop him. He's not… me."

Then, a wave of cold was sent through her and before she could move, Iceman's cold hand was wrapped around her arm and she was staring into his hard eyes. In a swift movement, his hand was clasped around Jubilee's neck and he was lifting her into the air. She struggled against him, pulling at his fingers and kicking at him.

"But what he didn't tell you is that what hurts me, hurts him," Iceman gloated, smirking. The girl's kicks slowed for a moment, but then she sent a well-aimed boot against his face.

He growled, then turned and hurled her across the room. Her right shoulder slammed into the wall and she heard a sick cracking noise before falling to the ground. The cold had made her numb to all sensation, but the pain was piercing, and she couldn't even find her voice to cry out.

Swiftly, Iceman made his way over to her and once again held her up against the wall by her neck. This time, Jubilee didn't struggle, staring at the man who was not Bobby with wide eyes.

"Bobby," she whispered. "I know you're there."

"He's not there anymore," Iceman growled, pressing against her neck even more.

Jubilee's breath rasped in her throat, but she kept staring at the eyes that were meant to be Bobby's. And it was the flicker of something familiar in them that kept her from giving in to the darkness hovering in the edges of her vision. "No, you're… you're there. Listen… to me, Bobby. Help… me. Stop… him. I know… you can. Come… back." Her words became more choked as the Iceman's grip became progressively tighter. "Come… back… Bobby."

With her last shuddering breath, she managed to whisper out four words before the blackness consumed her.

"I love you, Bobby."

A moment of silence: ….

And now: whoa. Intense. And then I start dodging the rocks thrown by the readers who absolutely hate me right now. But just you wait and see, you nonbelievers! I will find a way to make you worship me again one day! This story isn't over yet, by the way. I have to write about Jubilee's funeral.

JUST KIDDING! Jeez. I've already killed off Bobby in a different fic, and that was a traumatic experience for me. I do not like killing my favorite people.

And I can say that the frying pan is gone. For good! I promise! I had to resist so hard not to bring it back into the story…. **sniff** I will miss that dear old kitchen utensil/appliance/tool…

REVIEW! …Or this may not turn out to be very enjoyable for any of us…. *insert evil laugh here

~ J. J. Bean