Notes: Sangofanatic: Thanks! I update as soon as I have something ready and actually remember, which unfortunately isn't all that often I'm afraid. Sorry! XX-Goth-Gal: Thank you! Jean was a bit of an idiot, I agree, but it's how I think she would've reacted. Unfortunately, the bosses are not compassionate at all, and will force Jean and Rogue to fight. As they do in this chapter. I hope you like it! Arekanderu: Thank you. Kagome Rogue Shizoru: No need to apologise, I know what it's like to have way too little time. Thanks for the compliments, I'm glad you like my fic. This chapter is the fight so one of the girls will be dead at the end, but I'm not saying who it'll be. This will probably be around ten chapters long, and whether it ends happily kinda depends on your definition of a happy ending, at least if I write it the way I want to.
I hate this chapter, I really do. I'd like to say how that the reason it's short and brief is that it reflects the ghastly nature of reality and that there is no dramatic music or slow-motion bits, but the truth is, I just couldn't write it any better. Sorry about that.
Chapter Six
Rogue was the first to move. She knew that Jean would never make the initial attack, knew that her friend would stay still and hope for a miracle. But Rogue was more realistic, she knew that there were no miracles, not for them, and she wanted this nightmare to be over as soon as possible. So, making sure she had a good grip on her weapon, she darted forward, pushing all thought and emotion out of her mind and heart.
Jean dived out of the way, rolling on the ground and coming up in a defensive crouch. She discarded the knife and instead picked up a long metal pipe.
"I want to set one rule," she said quietly, and Rogue frowned, waiting until she had a good opening for another attack. "We don't use our powers."
The rule surprised Rogue. Whilst Jean might just be interested in her own defence, it also limited her own telepathic powers. Rogue knew that she had enough power to crush anyone's mind, with the possible exception of Professor Xavier. That she would deliberately handicap herself was a shock. Then again, she might just not want to be sucked forever into Rogue's mind and body.
"Agreed," she murmured, and lunged forward again. Jean stayed in her crouch until the last second, before rolling onto her back, pipe coming up to block Rogue's fighting stick. Both of them strained against the other, pushing against the other weapon. They were nearly equal in strength, but Rogue's slight disadvantage was equalled by her superior position and better leverage.
Rogue quickly realised this for the stalemate it was and jumped backwards, twirling the fighting stick again just to impress the crowd. Jean flipped herself onto her feet and did some impressive moves with her pipe, apparently trying to impress the crowd as well.
"You haven't let your skills slip," Jean murmured, stalking around the Cage in an attempt to get behind Rogue, an attempt foiled by Rogue copying her movements, matching her step for step.
"If I had, I wouldn't still be here," the auburn-haired girl replied, just as quietly.
"True, still it's just like you to always be at your best." It was a weak attempt at trying to get under her skin, to remind her that Jean was one of the few people she would call a true friend. Rogue had already prepared herself for the fight, though, and let the comment wash over her, not letting it affect her.
Instead, she leapt forward, aiming her fighting stick at Jean's head. Jean blocked it, as Rogue had known she would, and before the redhead knew what was happening, she had used the other end of her stick to sweep Jean's feet out from under her.
Jean landed on her back with a groan, not having time to recover because Rogue was moving to hit her again, forcing her to roll away and come up in a battle crouch. It would be so much easier to simply use her powers, either crush Rogue's mind or throw her across the Cage, but she didn't want to do that, she wanted this fight to be as fair as possible, she wanted to give Rogue a chance at survival.
Jean moved forward, trying for a classic head strike. Rogue blocked, sweeping her stick down and out before bringing it up to try for a similar move that Jean had used.
The crowd was cheering and shouting things, ranging from encouragement to insults, but inside the Cage, it was silent. Neither girl said anything because there wasn't anything to say. They were no longer friends, they were enemies, and neither of them spoke to their enemies.
The low, hard clacking of their weapons meeting was steady and rapid, quick, sharp beats like a fast heartbeat. They moved around the Cage, not really watching where they were going, just always aware of where the weapons and walls were so that they didn't trip or get cornered. Neither of them were thinking, they couldn't afford to, they were just reacting, letting their bodies do the work whilst their brains shut down. They'd been fighting for years and their bodies knew what to do, knew how to defend and attack, how to react to certain moves. Their bodies saw traps and strategies and reacted to them without any input from their brains. Fighting was automatic, instinct, for them now.
Rogue quickly realised that they were almost evenly matched and that unless one of them got creative, their battle could last for hours. She didn't want it to last for hours, her muscles were already screaming at her to end the fight right fucking now or they were going to be so pissed at her. She thought desperately, trying to think up a strategy, a plan, that would work. Jean was smart, and with her telepathy it wasn't easy to trick her. She wasn't always aware that she was using her powers, but she often did, was often able to anticipate her enemy's moves in advance and figure out traps.
Rogue decided that a trap wouldn't work, so she'd just have to do something obvious and simple. She pushed Jean away and darted to the side, putting a foot of empty space between them. Before Jean could rush at her, she made her move; she threw her stick in the air. Jean glanced at it out of instinct, a bare flick of the eyes that didn't even last a second, but it was enough.
Rogue jumped forward, her body already doing the work before her mind could tell it to. She kicked Jean in the chest, hard, and the redhead's breath wooshed out of her lungs as she collapsed onto the ground. Rogue grabbed a knife that lay on the ground, already moving towards her friend. She moved in one fluid, continuous movement, never stopping or hesitating. She went down on one knee, flipping the knife in her hand for a better strike, and brought it down in her friend's chest, automatically finding the heart.
Jean gasped, a wet, gurgling kind of sound, back arching up off the ground, hands clawing at the knife buried in her breast. She stared straight up, not at Rogue, and her eyes shimmered with tears. Her body shuddered, and then collapsed back onto the ground, quiet, limp, lifeless.
Rogue jerked the knife out of Jean's chest, staring at the crimson blade for a moment before letting it fall from her hand. She bowed her head and closed her eyes against a suspicious wetness. Her hair slid forward, hiding her face from the cheering crowd. She could hear them screaming and shouting and clapping and stamping their feet, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.