Virago
Chapter Eleven

Warren was first off the Jet, gasping at the shock of pain he experienced as he jumped to the ground before the steps had even started to descend. Willing all thoughts but Rogue from his mind, he raced to the mansion's medical bay.

*

'I don't believe I have enough of the serum, the antidote, to counter the original microbes injected in her body, but I can't be sure...I don't know…'

Hank placed a gentle hand on the old doctor's arm. 'It will be all right, we can multiply the amount that you do have.'

'I don't…I'm not sure what to expect, if there will be side effects if we give her too much, or if we…' Garrison trailed off once again, his voice sounding as troubled as he looked. He turned haunted eyes towards Hank. 'I didn't mean for this to happen, I didn't really. I wanted…just to help, is all that I wished for.'

Hank offered him a smile. 'I know that, Dr Garrison. We will proceed with caution, but right now this serum of yours is our last chance, and despite the risks, we must take it.'

*

Warren could feel the room spinning away from him. With trembling hands, he reached out and touched her pale cheeks. He wanted to shake her hard, shake her awake. But he knew that it would be of no use. She looked alive, she felt alive.

But she waited for death.

*

Scott watched in silence, clenching his jaw hard to keep from feeling anything. Warren, still in Angel uniform, battered and bruised leaned close to Rogue's form, mouth moving in silent caresses.

And he knew. There was no room for him here.

Scott turned and walked away.

*

It was strange that the failure of the mission affected them all so acutely. Jean, weary and disheartened, wanted nothing more than this whole nightmare to just end. They were going to lose one of theirs. A long lost member, but family nonetheless.

'Come on, Jean,' a soft voice said, coming up from behind her. Logan wrapped an arm around her waist and forced her to lean on him. 'We have to be strong.'

She sighed deeply, the two of them walking towards Professor Xavier's office for the debrief. Looking up, she noticed Kurt's stooped form as he stumbled forward. Jean wanted to cry.

*

He spoke hurriedly of his role regarding Rogue and her current condition. It had helped, somewhat, in distracting him from thoughts he would rather not have. Thoughts of failure and death and guilt.

When he finished he could feel the Professor's silent gaze on him. Lance looked up, and was surprised to see compassion in the old man's eyes.

'Mr Alvers, you did what you felt you had to,' Professor Xavier started softly. 'You followed your heart. Whatever happens, the blame does not fall on you.'

His jaw clenched almost painfully. 'She could die.'

'And you have done all you could to keep that from happening.' The Professor sighed deeply. 'There is something that I must tell you, Mr Alvers. It's about Mystique.'

'She's dead.' His tone was flat. He knew. She had been dying for a long time, and he had mourned her. He had last seen her several months previously, when she had left to become "Dr Langdon Garrison", and had ordered him to make certain that the real Garrison find the cure. She had been his mentor, provider, boss, and in a way, his friend. His central link to Rogue.

But she was now no longer.

Lance stood abruptly and started for the door. 'Tell the gang I said hello.'

'Don't you want to see Rogue?'

He knew the question was deliberate, but Lance stopped nonetheless. If only… But it wasn't, so he continued towards the door.

*

She stopped, pushing herself away from Logan.

'Jean?' Logan was frowning worriedly at her.

Jean attempted a smile, but knew that it fooled him none. 'You go ahead.' She nodded towards the figure in front of them. 'I think Kurt needs you more than I do.'

The older man hesitated, but then nodded as he took a step away.

She reached out and steadied herself against the wall, swallowing back tears as the overwhelming consequence of their failure continued to weigh heavy on her mind. Although she had not seen the younger woman in seven years, the thought of her being dead was never entertained. Rogue was out there, and she was doing fine.

But it wasn't to be. Rogue was here, and she was dying.

Jean felt as if a large part of her was being slowly ripped away.

*

'Lance.' His name, breathed out in disbelief and awe.

He turned. 'Kitty.'

Although visibly haggard and dirty in her X-Men uniform, Lance could see that the girl had grown into a stunning young woman. So beautiful that a heart could ache just to look at her. She smiled hesitantly at him. A smile that could take a breath away. 'It's really you…'

But he could only look at her. 'You're looking good.'

Kitty took a step towards him. 'I didn't think I'd ever see you again.'

He remembered what had happened seven years ago, and a pang of guilt hit him. Lance knew that he had hurt her terribly. He sighed. 'I have to go.' He turned from her.

'No!' She grabbed his arm, her tight grip and almost painful, and whirled him back around to face her. 'No, please, don't.'

As he looked down at her he realised just how deeply he had scarred her. Her desperation was painfully obvious. Seven years was a long time to wait.

'Lance, please, don't leave me again,' Kitty whispered, eyes begging him to answer her wishes.

He gently pried her fingers from his arm, and took a step back. 'I'm sorry, Kitty. I really am. For what I did. And for this, for everything. I'm sorry.'

Her face suddenly hardened into a cold mask of disgust. 'It's her, isn't it? You came back because of her!'

Rogue.

Lance had never wanted to hurt Kitty. It was his second biggest regret. The first was- No, it wasn't to be.

He turned away once more. 'I'm sorry.'

*

He stopped, his eyes drawn to the hunched figure leaning against the wall. Jean.

Scott hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Could he face her after the events of the last two days? After long-buried realisations and confessions? He could feel his entire being still filled with all things Rogue. Could he look at Jean in the eye and not hurt her?

His questions were answered for him when Jean lifted her head and saw him. He had never seen her so broken and dispirited. All life seemed to have drained from her.

But she attempted a smile as their eyes met. 'Scott.'

He walked towards her, attempting a smile of his own. 'Hi, Jean.'

Jean pushed herself from the wall, expending a lot of energy just to do so. She fell heavily into his arms, and he wrapped his arms around her, comforted by the familiar feel of her body against his.

Scott could feel the tears begin to form, and he tightened his hold on her. 'I'm sorry, Jean.'

*

'I think we might have enough.'

Hank felt a great weight lift from his chest at Garrison's words. But he tempered his excitement. They still had to administer the drug to see if it worked. Taking the serum-filled hypodermic from the doctor, he ran as fast as he could towards the medical bay.

He heard it even before he entered the room. That sound so familiar and well known, even to those who have never entered a hospital or medical area.

That continuous, high-pitched sound of the heart monitor.

Rogue had flatlined.

end chapter eleven.

Author's notes: First of all, let's get the usual spiel out of the way - I do sincerely apologise for the lateness of this chapter. Uni and family have been more trouble (and thus time-consuming) than usual, but you guys don't really want to hear about that!

Also, thank you for all of your dedicated support of this story. Fortunately, because there does seem to be interest in this story, I can't just scrap it. Or should that be unfortunately for me? :)

And I do seem to be stretching out the drama, don't I? But the end should is near. (I hope!)