Virago
Chapter Thirteen
20 April 2009
The activity around Rogue was frenetic.
Warren had never before felt so helpless. He stood in front of the glass, heart racing, knowing that there was nothing he could do but desperately wishing to be doing something. Anything but just standing by and watching his life die before his eyes.
'I have a pulse!'
Warren's heart soared in response to the four words. Rogue was alive!
'BP rising, pulse is thready.'
'The serum! Hurry!'
'Come on, Rogue, you can do it.'
They could all feel it. It seemed to permeate every corner of the mansion. Darkness, silent cries, invisible cracks that touched all who resided within its walls.
All because of one life in the midst of death.
'We need to talk.'
Scott had learnt long ago to expect the unexpected when it came to Jean. He knew that their relationship was viewed as "stable", "strong", even "perfect". Almost "predictable", really.
But he had never believed that he would ever hear those four words from her lips. It stunned him, frightened him. And, in one small way, it relieved him.
He looked at her, the woman he had come to accept as the one who would be his wife, would eventually bear his children. Jean stared back at him, her eyes haunted, unbearably sad, and so tired.
'Jean…'
She lowered her gaze, seeming to sink further into the bed. 'It's not the time, I know, but if not now then when?'
Guilt, mingled with grief, pressed heavy against his chest. It was not what Scott wanted, not like this. 'Don't. We can-'
Jean slowly shook her head. 'I never admitted it to myself until a few days ago, but I was jealous of her. Of Rogue. When she joined the X-Men, her loyalty to you was, it was absolute. Unconditional. Her trust in you. And I know that you responded to that, because it was something new and-'
'You were always loyal, Jean. And you trusted me, I know you did,' Scott interrupted, feeling uncomfortable at her words.
'No, I trusted the X-Men,' she countered, lifting her head to look at him. She looked troubled. 'It wasn't the same. Rogue, she was dedicated to you first, and the X-Men second. And you were drawn to her, you were-' Jean broke off with a strangled breath. 'And you still are.'
It hurt to see her in so much pain. 'Jean, I love you.'
'I know you do. But not, it's not…'
'Rogue-' Scott stopped, unsure of how to proceed. His life was crumbling around him. He was losing control.
'She's beautiful, Scott.' Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with the palm of her hands. 'So utterly beautiful.'
'Jean-' His heart jumped at the sudden sound of a reverberating crash.
She wanted Rogue to die. With all of her being, she wished and hoped and prayed for Rogue to die. For Rogue to cease to exist. For Rogue to never have been born.
Kitty grabbed the closest thing she could reach – a lava lamp, her 19th birthday present from Scott – and threw it as hard as she could across the room. It shattered with an unsatisfying crash against the far wall, creating a noticeable dent. The mark only succeeded in fuelling her wrath.
With energy she thought she had exhausted, Kitty took out her hatred on all else that she loved around her.
Kurt jerked. Instinctively, his head whipped towards the sudden sound. To his left. 'Kitty!'
Heart racing with fear, and thoughts racing with possibilities, he readied himself to teleport to her room. However, another sound prevented him.
Kitty screamed. Not with fright but with fury.
Kurt knew that there was nothing he could do. Trying to stop her would only enrage her further, and would invite her implacable resentment. A trait she had developed seven years ago.
Instead he shut his eyes and covered his ears with his hands. It did nothing to block the sounds – the sobs and shouts, the thuds and crashes.
Kurt felt as if it was the beginning of the end.
He knew it could never have worked between them. They were too different. Or maybe too similar. It didn't matter. She had her own life now. She had a fiancé, a man she devoted her entire heart and soul to. And it wasn't him.
Lance turned away from the mansion, forcing himself to forget. So many wasted chances and opportunities, all carelessly ignored and rejected because he had been overconfident. He had believed himself to be indispensable in her life.
He had just been a kid. A stupid kid, that was all.
But Rogue… She had been smart. She had deserved something better, something that he – nor Mystique or the Brotherhood – could not offer. So she had left, ane never looked back.
Lance knew it was finally time for him to do the same.
Charles sensed it, could feel it. It seeped into his bone, and it wearied him. So much anger, so much misery. Too much hatred.
Hopelessness.
His entire life had been dedicated to the encouragement of optimism and faith. Of hope. For mutant and non-mutant unity. For self acceptance. For the future.
Charles wondered how it could have all gone so wrong. Was saving one life worth the loss of a lifetime's work?
A life that could possibly be the undoing of his beloved X-Men.
'She's stabilised, but she's still unconscious.'
'She will…she will wake up though, won't she?'
'Her vital signs are strong, but it's all up to her now. There is one more thing, Warren.'
'She's alive. That's all I care about.'
'It is probably best that you keep your gloves on.'
end chapter thirteen.
Author's notes: For anyone still reading, first of all, thank you for your dedication! :D I am so, so, so sincerely sorry for the unbelievably long delay. I blame clinicals and my upcoming exams (three in a row!). And a really bad writer's block. But I did especially take some time out from studying (oh, the horror of it!) to continue this. Once again, I do promise to finish it, if for any reason people still want to read. It's probably not as a good a chapter as I would have liked, but well, it's here!
More AN: Not liking having to use the horizontal rule to separate chapter sections. Seems like the asterisk has been done away with. When did this happen?