Disclaimer : I do not own X-men. Never have, never will.


His eyes locked back onto hers and he leaned closer, his lips tracing hers as he murmured, 'I won't ever let you go again Rogue,' She felt her knees go weak at his touch, she did not care who was watching, she basked in his warmth, a moment burning itself into her memory.

Chapter 11: Alive or dead.

How could she not have seen it before. Someone who she never intended to have feelings for suddenly had her heart in a cold, metal vice grip. John hailed a cab and sat reassuringly stroking her hand in the back. The taxi driver sat just as silently as them as they drove down the unfamiliar, crowded streets. Rogue still could not believe she was brushing skin with John, the feel of it was so warm, so soft, she never knew she had been missing out on so much. John's dark eyes betrayed no emotion as the taxi suddenly pulled up outside a hotel. John whipped a silver phone to his ear, muttering words as he helped Rogue from the taxi. She focused hard on what he was saying but could only hear a few words over the city sounds.

'...Got her... inside? … bring her up... one minute...' Before she knew it she was standing inside a grand hotel lobby, the insides glistened gold the lush carpeting a deep red. John took her elbow gently, as if aiding an old frail lady towards the lifts. Rogue saw her reflection in the silver lift and began to worry. Her face was sickly pale, her hair filthy and bedraggled – no wonder why John was guiding her concernedly. The doors slid open with a Ding! Removing her reflection and revealing the interior of the tiny lift.

Rogue watched the numbers lighting up as they reached floor number 7. John's hand was smooth in hers as he towed her down the corridors, finally halting at a brown door, branded '122'. He rapped his knuckles against the door, then slid inside quickly. Rogue followed closing the door behind her.

'Oh rogue thank god!' A voice cried, she felt a small weight wrapping around her the moment she had stepped inside. Layla was hugging her tightly; she looked just as bad as John, he blonde hair was roughly tied up, her face seemed to be covered in scratches but they looked weeks old. Rogue pushed her back and peered at the scars,

'Layla, those scratches look ancient but it was only a few days ago-,'

'Can't kill me Rogue,' she cut over her, wiping a tear from her eye. She winked her blue eye playfully, 'Resurrector, remember?' Layla pulled her back into another hug, 'It's so good to have you back,'

'You can let her go now Layla, we need a serious chat,' a calm voice stated from across the room. With Layla now detached from her, Rogue could finally take in the room; it was small, simple one bedroomed hotel room. On the chair in front of her sat Eric, his face aged but completely un-phased with her arrival. John had taken his place beside him, looking like a guard dog, Rogue felt her heart plummet.

'Layla would you please check out for us?' He ordered softly, flicking an imaginary piece of dust off the side of his armchair. Layla instantly understood his silent demand and left the room, clicking the door shut.

'Where are the others?' Rogue questioned, taking an unsteady step towards them.

'Dead - maybe. We couldn't find them,' Eric replied in a bored tone. Rogue flinched in disgust. Eric considered those who were no longer mutant, were no longer alive, so where did that place her?

Eric leaned his frail body forwards slightly,

'But you Rogue, you mean something to my family,' he continued, ignoring her reaction. 'And I understand John is fond of you,' at this point John's face flushed red, but he did not interrupt his "master's" speech. 'But you are dead inside, we all know this. Point is, to stay in my family you need to be alive. I have my ways of resurrecting you,' he indicated to the door which Layla had just fled through, 'But the process is slow and tiring. I wonder Rogue, do you want to join my family or return to your death?' His face lifted in genuine curiosity. Rogue awaited her answer just as curious. It was true, she had managed to slot into the brotherhood easily, she had found herself, more importantly she had found John. Yet there were others out there, the "good" side, but their methods were not as different as Eric's. She bit her lip, clearly frustrated,

'I want to live,' the words tumbled from her mouth before she even registered them. Eric nodded slowly, a small smile on his lips. John's brown eyes were lit up, but he refused to show his excitement.

'Excellent my dear!' Eric smiled, clapping his hands together as he stood, ' bring the bags down when you're finished,' he added to John, before swiftly leaving the room. It still astonished Rogue by how fluid he could move for an old man. John was in front of her before she had time to move.

'Thank you,' he whispered seriously.

'You know, I still don't know what the hell I'm doing,' Rogue replied meekly. John drew closer to her, his grin lighting up his face.

'Too many drugs?' he chuckled lightly. His lips pressed gently against hers before he drew back looking at her quizzically, 'Did I ever tell you I love you?'

'Might of mentioned it,' Rogue joked, shrugging her shoulders. His lips were back against hers again, his hands wrapping around her waist as he pulled her tightly against him.

'I love you,' he whispered against her lips. Rogue felt faint with delight, her heart was hammering fast. She was a new person, her life was being kick-started for the final time. She was completely different from the girl who had left the x-men.

She was a mutant and she was proud.

The End.


A/N : Well that's the end guys, sorry its a bit short but i just feel like that sums it up (aha) thankyou to all of you guys who favorited and alerted this story - i'm glad you liked my attempt at Rogue & Pyro fanfic :) x