Mystique was understandably unimpressed by her house burning. Pyro had been running from her for the last half hour, and whilst he was so far successful in his attempts to survive, he was soon going to have to find some method of running away much faster than he could run, or protect himself with pyrotechnics. Fortunately, opportunity presented itself.

"Maaayte! Stop! Gemme outta here!" St. John proceeded to flag down Gambit on his motorcycle by stepping into the middle of the road and waving his arms.

Being forced to stop, Remy was notably annoyed. "Get out o' the way, y' moron! I'll lose track of Rogue!"

That caught Mystique's attention, and she paused her current action that essentially involved killing the Australian. "What about Rogue?" she asked, concern clear in her voice.

"I t'ink she's following Nightcrawler somewhere, an' she's definetly headed f'r trouble. I've got t' go after her!"

Within a second, the metamorph was on the bike behind him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Move it!" Remy was unsure of why Mystique felt it important she go with him, and uneasy at the knowledge that she was most definitely one of the X-Men's enemies, but her sense of urgency coupled with his own prevented him from arguing.

Pyro, confused, watched them speed away down the road. "Well, I guess that works too…."


Blackness; Absolute dark. And something she'd craved ever since she could remember — quiet. It wasn't just since her powers manifested, either — no, since she first absorbed Cody, the quiet parts of her past before then had been stolen from her. She hadn't had those dreams and those nightmares, all those experiences, but she could remember having them, and that took away from herself.

Now all that was gone. Rogue had never been more content. The memories were still there, but no longer pushed on her as though they were a part of what was happening to her now. She could feel them, sort them into their places. Her own mind, her own way. Even memories that had been hidden from her became ordered; Absorbing the X-Men, Brotherhood, and Acolytes. Waking Apocalypse. Kissing Remy the first time, used as a tool to steal his life force. Mystique yelling at Mesmero… and then some old memories that came to light, Irene's mysterious friend that was always uneasy around the young girl, but always bringing little trinkets, her image now replaced with that of Mystique. The woman she truly was — she wanted to care, Rogue realised, but she wouldn't let herself.

Then the pain hit her. What was that about? Oh yeah, she'd been stabbed.

No matter.

Rogue– No, Logan sighed as he looked down at Rogue's sleeping figure. Whatever Apocalypse had done to her must have been one heck of an ordeal, worse than anything he could have done to the rest of them. Rogue was the untouchable one, damn it!

He looked up at the heart-rate monitor and sighed again. Contrary to what the Prof. had said, her heartbeat was weakening with every minute. "C'mon Ace," he growled. "Don't give up on me now."

At that point, Hank walked into the room. "Can't let her go, can you?" he asked. "Listen, I know that Charles was just trying to keep the children quiet when he said she'd be fine, and I know that you know it too. We have to be willing to accept that–"

"No." Logan's voice was little more than a whisper, but this was characteristic of him when he was becoming mad.

"If she decides it's her time–"

"No! That's bullshit, Hank, and I'm not fucking taking it from you, or that you believe it yourself. There ain't no such 'time,' and even if there was, this isn't hers. She's too young, too i–…"

"Too what, Logan? Inexperienced?"

"Too God damned important, Hank! For once, Mystique was right. Stripes has got a role to play. A big one."

"What's got into you, Logan?"

The Canadian didn't answer. There was of course the real reason she was important to him. It sounded stupid if he said it, even to himself, but she was important because she just was. Making a desicion, he removed his gloves, and held Rogue's hand in his. She could be healed physically at least, he thought, willing his power into Rogue before he collapsed.

Now, she pulled it to the surface.


"Chérie!" Mystique's instruction that they just let the siblings work it out be damned, Remy's girl was hurt, damn it! The red eyed mutant didn't waste any time in thinking about it, he just ran to his amour.

Behind him, Mystique moved much more slowly. She'd seen this kind of thing so often before — although it was more normal for her to be the one throwing the knife. Another important factor to her, though, was the man who had discarded her taking her son, away to someplace else. She could barely utter a single word; "No," it was, then.

Remy, on the other hand, couldn't seem to slow down. Already by Rogue's side, his speech came as an incomprehensible blabber. He'd seen enough killing before, too, but wasn't prepared to accept it happening to his Rogue. "No, chere, don' be dead," he cried. "Je t'aime, ma chere. I need you! C'mon, Rogue, wake up!" He started sobbing.

Because of this, he didn't notice Rogue's eyes flutter open. The girl looked up at Gambit, slowly realising what he thought had happened. At this point she could have done any number of things. She could have said some soothing words, caressed his face with her gloved hand. Done something a lover would do….

No, the only way to bring the Cajun back to reality was to be as she'd always been to him. "Stop bein' so dramatic, Mr. LeBeau," she said, "and pull it outta meh!"

Mystique, who had just been standing there, staring at her adoptive daughter's lifeless face, now blinked for the first time since she saw her fall. A single tear drop slid down her cheek, and she smiled slightly. "Rogue?"

"Chérie?" Gambit finally said, staring down at his fellow southerner with a slightly dazed look.

"Look, Remy, either pull it out, or get out of the way before it makes its own way out, 'cause it'll do so at haigh speed."

"You should do what she says, Gumbo!" Wolverine yelled before jumping from the X-Velocity, that neither Gambit nor Mystique had noticed until now, hovering about 20 feet above. He landed in a crouch next to Gambit, leaving a divot in the ground, still getting up easily. "I'd say from the hilt and how much blood there is that the blade is at least four inches long. It's pretty close to vital organs, too, so the healing factor will want to get rid of it as quickly as possible." He moved Remy out of the way, and gripped the hilt, looking into Rogue's eyes. "Kitty told be about what happened in your room. You ready?"

Rogue nodded, and gritted her teeth. She still screamed as Logan pulled the knife out, but it came out more like a hissing, gurgling groan through her teeth. The southerner continued to groan as her insides knitted themselves back together, and fell back into unconsciousness just slightly after all that was left was a hardly visible scar on her abdomen. This time, however, she rested in Gambit's arms.

"Where's the blue squirrel?" Logan asked Mystique as the Helijet lowered to the ground.

"If you're referring to my son, Wolverine," replied the shapeshifter, tearing up again but remaining indignant of the man's attitude, "he's with his father. I hope I don't need to tell you that that could have some serious… repercussions."

Logan raised an eyebrow as he realised what the metamorph was implying. "You don't mean–?"

"I have to get him back…." Mystique could not bring herself to utter the demon's name.

Wolverine found himself surprised by the concern present in her attitude. "Don't worry," he assured her, "We'll get him back."


When Kurt awoke, he found the smell of sulphur overwhelming. Presumably, that nightmare had had him teleporting in his sleep again… He opened his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings. Yellow sky, molten rock, mighty pinnacles of brimstone.

It had been no dream. He was, fortuitously enough, lying on a bed, and was rather surprised to hear growling coming from the foot of it. He leaned over the edge of the bed, and was shocked to see one of the monsters from his nightmares, those very real creatures that had followed him out into the world, curled up there, snoring. He screamed.

"You're awake; The first one. Impressive." Dry speech, no emotion. Kurt turned to face its source. "Then again, I should expect that of you. You did, after all, manage to hold that portal open all by yourself."

"You," Kurt accused. He couldn't find anything else to say, though, as his mind was still boggling over the thing before him that was the very image of himself, but without the blue skin or fur. Well, it no longer had horns or wings, but close enough.

"I see you found my pet," continued Azazel. "Very hard to train, those things. They don't want anything, they just want. It is very annoying."

"Vhat do you vant from me?" Kurt asked nervously. He suspected he would not like the answer.

"What does any father want with his son?" the demon asked.

Kurt just sagged at this. "Vith my luck, you're zis 'Azazel,' and you're telling ze truth, ja?"

The demon nodded.

"And I thought having Mystique for a mother vas bad…."

Now Azazel laughed. "Come now, you can't possibly just assume that because I look like this, I'm worse than that heartless bitch you call 'Mutter?' Look at you! How do you judge yourself?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "Nein!" he yelled. "I vill not accept zis! You even call yourself after a devil!"

"A god, if you please," replied the demonic mutant, "Even if it is very perceptive of you to note that I am like yourself, nothing more. Have it your way, then, but I do not think you will like it in the end." Azazel snapped his fingers, and immediately Kurt found himself bound by his wrist and ankles.

"I am nothing like you," spat Kurt, before trying to port away. His attempt at escape was in vain.

"Come now, do you really think after nine thousand years I wouldn't have thought of some way to beat the gifts your Professor calls the X-Gene?"

Kurt growled. It didn't matter much what else to him anymore, he had to get out of there. He looked around for anything he could use, and that's when he saw them. The others. There were hundreds of them. "What do you want vith us?" he asked, not intending to be heard.


Eep! Long update time! Don't kill me, pwease?
Well, it would seem that my other story is already almost as long as this one, and it's only 4 chapters so far! Whoa.

No review responses this time, except to say to ldypebsaby, 'I don't know how I could have stabbed this "Rouge" person, as I don't know who they are.'

Seem like I have to start pleading for reviews again. Please, Review me! Don't make me do the burning pants dance! (Which the lessons for come with the warning, Failure to remove pants entirely by the end of the second bar may result in horrible flaming death. You don't want me to die a horrible flaming death, do you? Come to think of it, I bet most of you don't want me to remove my pants. That goes double if you're British).