Notes: XX-Goth-Gal: All of your questions will be answered in this chapter, because this is, sadly, the beginning of the end. I'm glad you like this fic so much! Sangofanatic: Thanks! Queen-morganalefay: Thank you! I will definitely finish this fic, but due to real life issues, it might be a little while between updates. There'll only be a couple more chapters, though, so it shouldn't be too long before I'm writing final chapter.

This chapter is dedicated to Steve, the only person on the planet who can get away with calling me 'honeybunny', for reasons that he and I both know. Thanks so much, hun, for everything.

Chapter Eight

Two days after the fight, Rogue asked to be taken back to her cell. She couldn't rest in the luxury room, it was a constant, painful reminder of what she had done, and if she hoped to ever recover from her crime, then she had to get out of there. The guards were delighted, as she knew they would be, but it was a fair price for being out of that damn room.

Her cell was just as she remembered, small, dark, and very depressing. Home sweet home, she thought bitterly as she stepped inside and listened to them lock the door and activate the power containers. Sighing, she sat down in the corner and looked at the marks she'd made on the wall. She dug the hair clip out of her pocket and made two more lines, even though she really didn't know how many days she'd missed while she was unconscious back at the beginning of all this mess.

The only difference was that she now had a little call button that would fetch the doctor. Or at least, that was the intention. In truth, it probably wouldn't work because all the button did was flash a little light at the guard station which would alert the guard on duty that she wanted medical attention. She doubted that they would hurry to get the doctor.

She could hear the other fighters talking, whispering amongst themselves, and she heard her name mentioned numerous times. She couldn't blame them-her fight, and what had happened after it, was good news. First, who her opponent was, then their shared torture, then their eventual fight, her win, and then being given a pass on fights until she was healed… It was all something to talk about. A couple of the fighters tried to talk to her, ask her questions, but she just ignored them until they stopped trying.

The sound of booted footsteps made her tense and huddle in her corner. She listened closely, and there was a slight hesitation between one step and the other, a pause that went on a second longer than normal. Only one of the guards had that little pause in their walk-Kendell. He appeared at her cell a second after she realised who it was, and leered at her.

"We're all mighty glad that you've returned to our little playground, babe," he said, and she glared at him. "I've been dreaming of your milky white skin, your luscious little body. You know what's next, babe."

She did, she knew all too well what came next, but she remained still, hoping in vain that she was wrong, that this time, for some unknown reason would be different, that some miracle would save her from the humiliation and degradation she knew was to come.

Kendell didn't like her silence, her stillness, and he gave her a hard, cold look filled with hatred. His voice was deep and guttural, like the voice of some vicious dog that had learned to speak. "Strip. And make it good."

She sighed, and fought back a momentary urge to cry, before she stood up and moved reluctantly away from the shadows. She began to slowly move her hips, nodding her head slightly to the music only she could hear. Her hands placed themselves lightly on her hips, running lightly across her thighs, her fingertips brushing her groin before sliding downwards. She knew what Kendell liked, knew what specific actions excited him the most, and she always strove to have him gone as quickly as possible.

He leaned forward, one hand gripping the bars tightly and the other stroking himself through his black jeans. His eyes were hungry, burning with lust, not passion, because passion implies emotion; no, the look in his eyes was pure, raw lust. She hated the look in his eyes, it never failed to make her feel like she was a worthless piece of meat.

She ran her hands up her stomach, making sure that her fingertips caught on the hem of her shirt so that it was dragged up to briefly reveal the pale flesh of her body before it fell back into place. Surprisingly, Kendell preferred to be teased a lot, to be driven almost mad before he was allowed to finally glimpse her nude body. She actually liked it that way, because once she was fully naked, it never took more than a minute for him to climax and then he was gone, so she usually spent most of her time with some semblance of clothing.

A muffled explosion sounded, and it was close enough to make both Rogue and Kendell freeze. They looked at each other with that instant, startled companionship that lasts for only a second as they both though, What the hell? Then both of them snapped back into themselves, Kendell rushed off to see what was going on and Rogue just stood there trying to hear what was happening.

Mostly what she heard was the guards rushing about and shouting to each other, but she also heard a couple more explosions, as well as something that sounded like a wall being knocked down. What the hell was going on out there?

Her answer came when she heard a wolf-like howl, and a guard flew past her cell. She rushed forward, leaning against the bars, and smiled in relief as Logan ran up to her.

"Rogue! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Having a bloody awful time," she replied, grinning. Relief was like a drug, coursing through her veins, making her giddy and light-headed. "Now get me out of here, wouldya?"

He smiled and sliced through the bars as if they were nothing. The other fighters were all talking, demanding to know what was going on, but she ignored them for the moment so that she could explain to Logan.

"This is a bad place, I got captured a month or so ago, Jean got capture a few days ago, we got tortured, we fought, I killed her, I am so damn glad to see you I could kiss you! Who's here?"

One good thing about Logan was that he didn't waste anytime asking pointless questions. "The whole team. The Professor had a bit of trouble tracking down Jean, but then two days ago he got this huge hit from her, and then she vanished. We've spent the time since there getting here and preparing, you're about a hundred miles from Bayville."

Rogue thought for a second and then asked quietly, "Scott doesn't know that Jean's dead?"

"No. The Prof suspected, but didn't say anything to anyone but me."

"I'll tell him when we get to safety. Free the others, get them out of here."

She began to run away, but he grabbed her arm. "Wait, what are you gonna do?"

"I've got some revenge to exact," she said grimly, twisting free of his grip. She took the time to rob the dead guard by the door of his baton and gun. She gripped the gun tightly, letting the burning cold of anger and hatred swell up within her, dispelling the relief of being rescued until she was nearly numb. Only one thought existed in her mind now, and it was a thought with a face; a pretty face with green eyes and red hair.