Traitors: Chapter 10
She couldn't bear the waiting. It took forever. It seemed like forever before the sun even bothered to set. She decided to do it on her own. She didn't want anybody around to bother trying to comfort her when the ax was dropped. She wanted to be able to talk to him freely and privately. She didn't need them to be by her side. Be there for her. She needed them to just let her go through it her own way and get it over with. At points from six to seven she ended up crying silently. She'd skipped dinner, unable to push anything into her mouth or swallow even water. She had counted and evenly estimated that on that day she had cried around ten times. It was too painful.
How could John decide to do this? They had agreed that they'd somehow find a way or an answer to their problems and solve them in a way that would keep them together. That was one thing they both wanted. To stay together. Heck, they'd gotten married just to stay together. She knew he loved her. Loved her so much. So why was he doing this? There was a way. Somehow, somewhere, someday she knew that in the end they would've found a way to work it out.
She waited in her room, legs crossed, sitting on the bed. She'd move now and then around the room, looking out the window, sitting in a chair, or lying on the bed. It was 8:58. Was he going to call at exactly nine? she wondered many times. She was now lying on the bed, drumming her fingers on the soft mattress, the phone right before her.
Two seemingly endless minutes passed, but the phone didn't ring at all. Then it was 9:01. The phone John had bought her rang loudly, and in less than a moment, she snatched it up shakily and answered it.
"Johnny?" she asked.
"Hey, baby," he said calmly. He sounded sad. Crest-fallen. Depressed. Unattached. Or atleast he was trying to sound unattached. "How…how are you? Is everything all right?"
"Y-yeah…" she murmured.
"Good. That's good. I was worried…" he added, stalling. "Rogue…what are we doing here?"
She didn't reply. He understood his words shook her.
"I mean," he continued. He re-thought how to handle the situation. "You know I love you, right?"
"I know, Johnny."
"Well. Logan. Logan asked me an important question today. 'How much do I love you? How deeply do I care about you?'" Pause. "I know I say I really care about you. I say I love you so much. I never really…" his voice cracked for a moment and she could hear him take deep breaths. "I never really managed to explain how much I love you and care for you…" He took deep breaths once more. "I love you so much…that I would die for you." Pause. "I care so deeply for you; I never want you to get hurt. Any kind of hurt. Especially from me. I never want to cause you pain." Pause as he took a few more deep breaths. "Rogue. We encountered each other when I asked you for some help." Pause. "You were the only one I thought would actually give a damn. Who would actually try and help or consider helping me." Pause. "I had an inkling of a sense that you might actually care about me, after everything. Alcatraz. Alkali Lake. Everything. And you did, didn't you?" His voice cracked once more. "My love for you re-ignited. You are one of the very, very few people I care about. And when I care about a person, they are seriously special to me. So special I'd do anything for them. Do anything to protect them." His voice cracked one more time. "Do anything to make them happy."
"I am happy," she said squeakily, her eyes filling with tears. "I am happy. With you. I always happy when I'm with you, Johnny."
"I know, baby. I know. I'm happy. Very happy when I'm with you as well." He took one deep breath. "I couldn't stop caring or loving you. I never wanted to lose you. I don't want to lose you. Rogue. You helped me. Back then. In the alley. And then you helped me more. You helped me…" he chuckle croakily. "You helped me become John once more." Pause. "To others that's not a good thing. At points, the old me would've thought so too…" Pause. "I don't want anyone to hurt you. So…how deeply do I care about you? I'd do anything to stop the people trying to hurt you, baby. And we know they'll keep trying to hurt you – hurt us – if we stay together. Long distance is impossible. You…I just…please understand me, here…this is the only way."
"Johnny –"
"No!" he said loudly. He stopped for a few moments. "No," he said a little weakly. "This is the only way. We both know it."
"They'll still try to hurt you!" she cried loudly. "They won't stop! You know that also! You know that you're now classified as a traitor to them!" She stopped for a moment. "They'll kill you…" she said agonizingly. She waited forever more for his reply. It was so silent on his end. Her end as well, except for her panting and hard tries to stop the flourishing tears falling. Was he still there? Did he leave?
Then came the calm, low-voiced reply. "I know." Pause. "I know. I wrote my own destiny. I decided what would happen to me, Rogue. You didn't. I did. I decided what I wanted. What I still want. What I can't have. I've accepted that my actions have consequences."
"If you come back…"
"If I come back, we'll both die."
"I don't care!"
"I do!"
"And what? As though I don't care if you die?!"
He didn't reply for a long time. "I love you." He took a deep breath. "I love you. I love you. I love you so much." Pause. "So much that I'm willing to die for you." Pause. "These past few weeks were amazing, Rogue." Pause. "I know it sounds cheesy, but you are my world." Pause. "All I care about."
"Johnny…" she murmured, knowing it was a lost battle.
"You'll be fine. We'll both be fine." He swallowed hard. "I love you." Long pause once more. "You know that, right?"
She didn't reply. Yes, she knew that. But why did he have to do this?
"I know. I love you too."
"I know." He hung up.
She got up forcibly from the bed, and opened the windows widely. She chucked the phone out with harsh force. It landed next to the pool, separating into many bits of pieces. The she turned and hugged herself tightly. Her cries weren't soft anymore. There were gasping noises as she tried to recollect air through the weeps. She collapsed to her knees. His wedding ring was on the dresser. Her eyes were closed tightly and her face was red. Her hair was falling on the sides of her face. The floor had a tiny puddle of tears, as well as other separate droplets. She wouldn't stop. It hurt too much. The ache was unbearable. It was as though it was sucking into her from the heart. From the chest. Like her heart was trying to escape. To pull itself out of her chest just to escape the extreme pain.
He's gone. He loves me. He's gone. He loves me. He's going to get killed…He's gone. He loves me…she chanted in her mind as she rocked back and forth. Her feet were cold. She was cold. Inside and outside. Her face felt wet and warm though. The tears were non-stop. Neither was the pain. The endless pain. The continuous pain. The everlasting pain. As everlasting as their love…or so she had thought before. But was their love really dead? He still loved her. She still loved him. They just weren't together. Weren't next to each other. He's gone. He loves me. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone. He's…gone…
She somehow managed in a long time to stand up. The tears were still falling. She was still crying heavily. She felt the cold wind hit her in the back. She walked up to the dresser, and took off both her rings as well, placing it next to his. Her eyes were on their wedding rings. They were next to his lighter. She placed the lighter in her jeans pocket. Her hands laid heavily on the surface of the dresser. The mirror was right infront of her.
He loves me…
Her head bashed into the glass and it shatter to pieces. She fell back into the arms of a stranger. His hand, which had been held up in position behind her head had moved swiftly and caught her before she dropped. The blood dripped slightly down from her forehead onto the ground. Her eyes were closed. Her skin white from all the crying. All the pain. The blood was so red. It dripped a few more times, and the stranger listened carefully to it. They were the same colour as his eyes. He lifted her a little higher in his arms, and carefully carried her out the window and down onto the ground. He looked at her pale figure in the moonlight, and walked out of the residence.
xXx
John clenched the phone in his hand, and threw it away far down the street. A car ran over it and crushed it to bits. He put his hands in his pocket and made his way down the sidewalk. It was a rather deserted part of the city. Only a few people were there and only a few people had seen the act he had just displayed. He took out the second lighter. Another zippo. More plain though. Nothing like his favourate one. But that one he gave to Rogue. He had arranged for the divorce papers, which he had already signed, to reach tomorrow, and hoped that she, or she under the influence of Logan, would sign them too. He really did love her. He really would always love her. But still. They knew – especially him – that in the end it'd be this way. Even if they refused to believe. Plus what he had said to Rogue was true. He was ready to accept his fate. Death at the hands of the Brotherhood. He took a deep breath. He, himself had a hard time not ending up in tears. But he had to be strong. For him and for Rogue. He just hoped that she'd find peace. Find love. Again. Maybe he just wasn't the right guy. Huh.
He turned around the corner and looked at the two men ready to meet him. He recognized them both from his earlier fights. He held out his arms openly. Like he said, 'ready'. They walked forward, took him by the arm, and punched him. While he was down, they dragged him into an alley, and kicked his ribs, legs, arms and any part of his body they could. They pounded his head, and didn't stop for about fifteen minutes. He could feel the pain. The sharp, agonizing, repeated pains in repeated parts of his body. He felt as though his ribs were being cracked open one by one. He could barely move his bruised arms and legs. He could taste the blood, feel it moving round him, leaking from new wounds. Then, when he was way far out of consciousness, dripping with blood and dirt, messed up everywhere and beaten harsh, they dragged him into a car, which sped off at fast speed.
xXx
He could smell…fire. John's eyes bolted open, and the fire was washed out instantly.
"The smelling salts didn't exactly work," Mystique said, somewhat kindly. Strange.
He looked up at her, and as his gaze took a few moments to come clear, he saw where he was. Some wood…surrounded by trees. It was dark. Then flashlights lit from five different positions, all pointing at him. He flinched at the brightness. His head and heart were throbbing strongly. His body ached. The wounds stung. And he was inhaling more of dust than air.
"Let's cut the small talk. We saw this coming. Heck yeah. It was gonna end this way, Pyro," she said simply, shrugging. She took out a long knife, and approached him closely. The kind of closeness he only appreciated – and wanted – from Rogue. Then she spoke softly, her icy-cold voice breathing into his skin. "What? No one said this wasn't going to hurt. A lot."
She cut down his shirt. Wounds deep to hurt. Not deep enough to injure strongly. She was going to make this slow and painful. Somewhere deep inside, this was killing her. But that feeling was small, tiny even, and over-ruled by her feeling of the right to honor her side. Her leader. She was given a task.
This went on, until he was dripping blood from various places. He could still withstand the pain.
"What, that it, bitch?!" he roared at her as blood dripped from his mouth.
"Oh, oh no. no. no. no." She threw the knife and it darted into a tree, sticking to it stiffly. "That's just to weaken you."
Then he could feel himself being untied. He dropped the ground, and attempted to stand up. He was kicked in the stomach, and elbowed on the back. He dropped down, inhaling the dirt. Then he was picked up and thrown to a side, and felt the pains of many kicks, and a couple of punches. Torture. It lasted for a long time, to him anyway. At points, they'd give him a chance to stand and regain himself, then push him back down. They kicked him the stomach so much he somewhat puked out blood. His head was throbbing harder than ever. He knew that Mystique was either just watching or had left the remaining recruits to hit him. But he understood what had been the order: Attack. Hurt. Torture. Do not kill.
He felt his insides turned as one man turned him face up, and punched him from the side of the head five times. And man yanked him by the hair tightly, and another kneed him in the gut. His clothes were stained with sweat, dirt, mud and blood.
They dropped him onto the ground once more. He didn't budge. Couldn't feel any part of himself except the pain. He coughed twice. He couldn't move his body at all.
"Get up!" one of them growled, jerking him up by the collar. They pushed him into the tree and tied him up once more. He laid his head back into the rough bark of the tree and tried to collect the minimal number of breaths he still could.
"Will you just end it?!" he demanded through gasps and pants. "What…you keeping me alive from dramatic effects?! Get it over with…" His head hung low. He didn't have any energy to hold it up high anymore. His hair became a mop coming down his eyes.
"Where is she?!" Mystique hollered to one of the guards.
He could barely see them. Then he heard someone hit the ground with a thud and give a grunt of pain. A female-sounding grunt of pain. He jerked his head up and saw her. She was blindfolded. Blood was dripping from her forehead.
"No." A small breath. Barely audible. "She's not part of this!" he yelled louder. "Not anymore!"
"Where's the fun in that?" Mystique asked sardonically. She knelt down next to Rogue, who didn't budge. "Your husband's here…" she murmured.
"She's not part of this, Mystique!!" John roared louder than ever.
It took up more of his energy. But he couldn't understand. Why…she wasn't making a sound. Silent, but awake. Then he understood. Her hand slipped into her back pocket and slid out a lighter. She tossed it open and switched on towards the back and the small flame turned huge and blasted everywhere. Rogue dropped to the ground and took off the blindfold. Her hands were still bound. She jumped up and went to him.
"Go. Run." he said. She stopped momentarily and kissed him shortly. Then she backed off and ran into the trees behind him.
He turned to the rest of the people. The fires got bigger and bigger, and the more he created, the more he manipulated, the more he enlarged the fires…the more energy he got. He was feeding off the power. He grinned. This was fun.
xXx
Rogue ran through the woods. It was dark. She couldn't see around that much. The blow to her head was painful. But more of a numbing pain that made her semi-block out. Then she stopped as she slipped sideways. She dropped to the ground, and tried to stand up. She was nearly up straight and something hit her in the head again. A baseball bat. She was knocked out. But somehow, she could still feel the pain…and feel repeated, more strong hits as the blows continued.
xXx
John had taken them all out. They were knocked out and had gone through the same treatment they sent him through. He felt the fires tears at the ropes the held him tight. He tried to follow the way Rogue went, but he was sloppy. He tripped and had to stop to take deep breaths every now and then, but couldn't find her. He ran forward, but stopped suddenly.
No.
She was on the ground. Her hair went across her face, but it wasn't enough to hide the surplus of bleeding from a newer concussion. She was bleeding tremendously and was pale. Extremely pale and getting even paler. He felt himself freeze inside. Felt the heat and power he had just felt die instantly. He dropped to his knees next to her and took her in his arms.
"Baby?" he cried, shaking her slightly. Her blood leaked into his arms and knees. He felt tears falling down into his lap. He brushed the hair across her face aside. He pulled her closer to him and bowed his head down, starting to cry. "Please no. Please. Please," he wept. "No…"
"One more time…" he breathed. "One more time…just one more time…"
The grief pained him greatly. Was she dead…? He didn't bother to check. The hope seemed…well, hopeless. Yet he still kept it. Maybe…just maybe…
He opened his lighter and flicked it open, the fire engulfed both of them. A blast occurred, and then they were gone. Yet he was still crying. He knew inside. It was over.
xXx
"Hey, Johnny," Rogue said softly to him.
The sun shone through the curtains and into the bed, lighting up her face and causing her brown hair to shine glossily. He woke up next to her. Her hand was on his. It was soft. Felt good. He took it in his and smiled at her. It was the perfect morning. Just dawn, but bright and beautiful.
"Morning," she said sweetly.
"Morning." He took her hand tighter, but a little loosely, and said, "I love you." He did. He really did.
"I know."
"You'll always know, right?"
"I always know, Johnny."
"I love you, Marie."
"I know, Johnny," she said once more, leaning into his chest.
He could feel her. She felt so…right. So warm and…just perfectly right. He kept his hold on her hand, and his other hand around her, pulling her closer to him.
Then she pulled back, except for their joined hands.
"Maybe it was suppose to be this way."
"Maybe," he agreed softly.
"Maybe another time, huh?" she asked, smiling at him. She got up from the bed and walked to the door.
"Yeah." He looked at her. "Another time."
She smiled once more and opened the door. Then she left and shut the door.
He sat there silent for a while, then scoffed.
"Happy endings. Knew they were bullshit." He shook his head dolefully.
The end.
A/N: Hey…just incase you're a little confused…the last part was just something I added to say, imagine what would happen if Rogue and John got a chance to talk about her death. Like a dream sorta thing. So it's done now. Thanks for the reviews.
