Notes: coldqueen: Well, I only drink diet Coke, so that tends to be what my characters drink as well. I think it tastes better than normal Coke. Thanks for reviewing!

Um… if you don't like character deaths, you might not want to read this chapter. I don't want to give away the surprise, but if you can't handle one of the X-Men dying, then turn away now.

Chapter Three

The fighters were anxious. There hadn't been a single fight in over a week, and it had been Christmas Eve on Friday. The fight bosses always cast a fight for any of the important days or holidays. They were working up to something, and whatever it was, the fighters knew that it wouldn't be good. Because of this knowledge, the atmosphere in the cells had changed dramatically.

The fighters had a peculiar relationship with each other, they offered comfort and friendship, helped ease the emotional and physical pain that someone was suffering if they were able, but they never got close. They all kept everyone at a distance, always knowing that they might have to fight, and they didn't want to have to kill someone they had grown attached to.

The suspense had caused this weird behaviour to increase, until the fighters didn't speak to each other anymore, didn't try and look at the people opposite them, didn't try to sneak touches whenever they could. They were all just waiting, breathlessly, for whatever disaster was coming.

Even Rogue was feeling the tension as she chewed on her nutrition bar. She'd never gone this long without something happening, be it a fight or a dance, and she hated the waiting. It was the calm before the storm, she knew that, and knowing that the storm was coming did nothing to soothe her. It was like being given an injection, if you just forgot about it until the last possible moment, then it was easier to bear. This endless waiting, with nothing but her thoughts to distract her, was torture.

The door banged open, and she heard several guards walk in. She tensed up against her will, pressing herself against the wall, trying to disappear into the shadows. There were six of them in total, and they stopped right in front of her cell. They were all smirking or grinning, and that was a Bad Sign. She glared at them, but it wasn't as strong as usual. There was a cold, uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she shivered slightly.

The ginger-haired guard unlocked the door, and two others stepped inside, weapons held at the ready. For the first time since she'd first arrived, she thought about resisting them. She did not want to go into the Cage tonight, her instincts were screaming at her that it was a bad idea.

"Come on, little Roguey, be a good girl," the blonde guard said. She bit her lip, unsure, but eventually forced her muscles to relax. She stood up and walked out of the cell with her head bowed. She could feel the other fighters watching her as she walked past the cells, but she didn't raise her eyes to look at them.

The Cage slowly came into view, and she stepped inside to the sound of cheers and encouragement. She ignored them, stepping into the Cage and walking to the far side, before turning around to face the entrance. She frowned when no other mutant was shepherded inside.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight," Mark Adams said, his voice amplified electronically until it boomed. "For over a week we have prepared for this fight, for it truly will be spectacular. Tonight, you will witness the devil girl from the South face off against one of her most trusted friends! Watch as the bonds of friendship are ripped apart by blood and tears! Cheer as they forget all ties that bind them together as they go one-on-one in a battle to the death!"

Her breath rushed out of her lungs as if she had been punched in the stomach. She stared up at Adams in disbelief, no longer hearing all the eager proclamations he was making to the raucous crowd.

Her mind was running in circles, trying to figure out who they might possibly have captured. Would she really have to kill a friend? She didn't want to believe it, didn't want to accept it. Her friends were her family, they were-had been-all she had, she couldn't just murder one of them. She didn't even want to fight them. She wouldn't do it.

But she knew that she had to. She either fought, or got tortured. She didn't know if her family were important enough to get tortured for. It was painful to admit that, she had thought she would do anything for her family, but in the harsh light of reality, she just didn't know if that was true.

What it really came down to was whether her life or her family was more important. She had thought that she would die for her family, but when put in the very real situation of her or them, she ultimately had to choose herself.

Rogue sighed, closing her eyes and whispering a quick prayer of regret. She heard the door to the Cage open, but didn't open her eyes. There was a grunt, followed by the sound of someone falling to their knees. She thought the grunt sounded female, but couldn't be sure. She heard the weapons being thrown into the Cage, but didn't hear the other person picking up anything.

A hiccuping sob reached her ears, and it was definitely female. That narrowed down the list to six people, none of whom she really wanted to kill. She sighed, realising that she had to open her eyes, had to fight, had to give the crowd what they wanted.

She sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time and slowly opened her eyes, looking down at the floor. She could see the person's knees and thighs, and instantly recognised the black trousers with the thin silver chain. Her breath caught in her throat, refusing to believe that they had actually managed to catch….

She whirled around to glare up at Adams. He was smirking and looking very satisfied with himself. She wanted to punch that smug grin off his face, and considered trying to climb up the walls, but knew that she would just get hurt.

"You fucking bastard," she growled. "I will not fight her and you can't fucking make me!"

Adams laughed. "Our prize fighter seems to have a touch of sentimentality left in her," he said to the lady next to him, before turning back to glare down at her. "You will fight her, Rogue, and you will do your best to kill her. Or I will make you sorely regret it."

Icy fear stabbed at her gut, but she didn't let it show. She turned away from him and realised that the time had come to make the ultimate decision, no more stalling: would she kill her friend?

She sighed yet again and her shoulders slumped, the anger and fear draining out of her body to puddle on the floor, leaving her… empty.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, finally looking at her friend's eyes. "I'm so sorry, Jean."