Thanks again, to everyone who has reviewed. As for those of you haven't yet… (growls under her breath) need I elaborate?

Chapter 5

"Rogue. Come on Rogue, hold on," Scott gasped. He searched Rogue's neck frantically for a pulse. God she looked pale…

"Hang in there. You're gonna be alright, I swear you will," he pleaded as he lifted her gently onto his bike. Then, going as slow as he dared, he disappeared into the horizon.

* * * * * * * *

Jean! Charles! Get to the lab. NOW.

Hoping that they had sensed him, he stumbled into the lift, feeling his insides lurch as they always did when the elevator dropped down. Rogue was in his arms, looking smaller than ever. She'd become so thin – he could feel her bones clearly through her clothes. Scott sighed deeply. It was a sigh of weariness, exhaustion. So much had happened, so many broken hearts, so many tortured existences. What would it be like if it all just ended…? No, he couldn't think like that.

Focus on Rogue!

Yes, Rogue. It was too early for her life to end. She was still so young, barely eighteen.

And yet she's been through more than some people have in a lifetime.

God. Would her broken heart ever be healed? And even if it was pieced together again, it would be so damn easy to break it all over again.

The door opened with a smooth sliding sound. He gently lifted her up again, and walked out into the bright hallway.

"Scott? What's the matter? Oh, good god…" the Professor's voice cracked as he said the last sentence.

"Scott, what happened to her? How long has she been in this state?" Jean's voice broke through the short silence, always matter-of-fact, cool and calm.

"Um, she's been out for 'bout half an hour, but she was in a pretty bad state before she fell unconscious too." Scott said, trying to erase the doubt and anxiety from his tone.

"What happened? Did she do this to herself?" the Professor murmured.

Scott moved out the door, needing to get away from Jean. It hurt just looking at her – a beautiful, elegant goddess.

Charles followed, leaving Jean to tend to Rogue.

* * * * * * * *

He let out a breath of air he hadn't even been aware he was holding. Thin trails of tears ran down the deep lines etched onto his face. How long would they all be able to hold up? Today's incident with Rogue had given him a painful reminder of just how desperate some of his loved ones were. Charles, of all people, knew that each and every person had a breaking point – no matter how tough they made themselves out to be. And Rogue seemed to be teetering dangerously over that edge. How much more of this would they have to endure?

"What have we done to deserve this? WHAT have we done?" he whispered into the cold night air. Leaning back into his wheelchair, he relaxed his tight clench on the steel armrests.

* * * * * * * *

Scott eased into his cold bed, trying to relax his aching muscles. Jean's familiar smell was only a faint lingering essence in the air now.

DON'T start thinking about her now, he mentally willed himself. Memories of their past always inevitably led to nightmares and cold sweat breaking out all over his body.

Think about Rogue. Yes, think about her instead.

Funny, he wondered vaguely, how his mind had decided to find safety in thinking about Rogue – someone who had also suffered so much for so long.

Poor girl.

But she wasn't a girl anymore, was she? It was an insult to her, really, for someone who knew more and had experienced more than anyone else he knew, save himself and Logan, perhaps. God, only a miracle could get her through this now. He was so tired, so sick of this world. This world full of broken souls, lost dreams and desolate lives. What he wouldn't give to end this all, here and now. But he couldn't, he owed it to Charles, Ororo, and everyone else – to help them through this war. Then, maybe then, he could finally just rest. Finally give up. But the road to that day was still miles away. Was everyone's journey through life so long and tiring?

God, what has Jean done to me?

He'd never been like this before. When he'd been with Jean, life had been worth living; suffering worth going through – all so that he could be with Jean again, beautiful, loving Jean.

And now it all seemed so pointless. His life was just like one great big empty hole. He even felt like a hole. Hollow and meaningless.

Whoever it is out there, God, Jesus, whoever it is, please, please make this all end, make this empty pain go away…

* * * * * * * *

She lifted her eyelids, one by one. They felt so heavy, like metal bricks. Gazing groggily around the white room, the colours swirled and danced around her eyes, making her quickly shut her eyes again.

But not quick enough, it seemed.

"Rogue! You're awake! How are you feeling?" The clear, feminine voice brought her crashing down to reality.

Fine, if you'd just leave me alone.

Jean's telepathic powers appeared to not have picked up on the little thought, so she nodded briefly.

"Rogue," she said gently, a tone that immediately set Rogue on edge, "do you want to tell me what happened to you?"

Rogue winced slightly. Oh god, how she'd snapped. The physical pain had meant nothing to her then, all she'd wanted was to get rid of her emotional suffering. It had hurt so much… the loss and guilt…

"Rogue, do you want to talk about it?" Jean asked, ever soft and soothing.

I'll be FINE, thanks!

This time, her telepathic abilities seemed to have picked up on the thought, and she was taken aback.

"Okay, then I'll just leave you to rest," she murmured.

Rogue slumped back onto her bed, guilt tingling through her mind.

She was only trying to help you!

It was just so goddamn excruciating, being constantly reminded of everything Jean was and she wasn't. Was this how it always was going to be? Every time she met a kind, gorgeous woman, would she immediately feel all that self-disgust and pity?

Scott shouldn't have saved me; he should've just let me die.

It would've been nice, for once, to not have to go through this daily torture. If she'd just died there in the forest, she would've died happy. Because as she'd been unconscious, she'd been reliving her first encounter with Logan. It was a happy memory – she was still young and innocent and the deep feelings she'd felt for Logan hadn't developed yet.

But now, she had to go through another day. One more day of sorrow and agony. Of grief and guilt.

How long would this last? When would the time come for it all to end?

She was lost in a dark tunnel, alone, and the light at the end seemed to be getting dimmer and dimmer as the days wore on.

On my own

Pretending he's beside me.

All alone I walk with him till morning.

Without him,

I feel his arms around me.

In the rain the pavement shines like silver

All the lights are misty in the river

In the darkness the trees are full of starlight

And all I see is him and me for ever and forever.

And I know it's only in my mind,

That I'm talking to myself and not to him…

Author's note: Well that wasn't too bad, was it? The song at the end is 'On My Own' from Les Miz (sighs dreamily). In case you noticed, yes I did cut out some of the lines. It seemed fitting at the time. I have a vague idea of how I'm going to end this story, but I really kinda need some inspiration for the next chapter so if you got any ideas, please tell me.