Chapter Five

This chapter is dedicated to lethalperception7, creator of Selene, as thanks for the advertising/reviewing, and apology for my forgetfulness. I really am sorry! Anyway, enjoy and review!

Selene was grinning widely, and even Jamie had a small smile on her face. Rogue raised an eyebrow and waited for it, still absently cleaning her gun. Jamie handed her a sheaf of papers, all showing black-and-white photos of the same man. He had dark hair, broad shoulders, and sunglasses. Rogue frowned at the pictures. There was something annoyingly familiar about him.

"This guy was at every single fight apart from the one with that kid."

"Really. Do we have a name?"

"I'm running the picture through all the databases, and if they come back negative, I'll hack into the NSA's database. We'll find out who he is eventually."

"Work fast. The sooner we find out who he is, the sooner we can kill him."

"Working as fast as we can, bosslady."

Rogue nodded, still looking at the picture. What was it about him that was so familiar? Something about… a uniform?

"Check all the military databases first, yeah?" she said to Jamie, who frowned but nodded.

"Sure. You got a hunch?"

"Maybe. He just seems familiar, something about him in a uniform. I dunno."

"Well, if he is in the military, I wouldn't be surprised that you know him-you've had a lot of run ins with the military."

Rogue snorted. "Yeah." She bit her lip, looking at the picture again, trying desperately to think of where she'd seen him before, but it was sometimes hard to remember what was her own memories, and what memories belonged to other people. She was almost sure she'd seen him before, but it might have been someone else.

"Um… listen, when you find out this guy's name, only tell me, 'kay?" She didn't know why she'd asked that, just that it might be important. Jamie raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Sure, if you say so."

"Good. Michelle, can you get any psychic imprints of these pictures?"

Michelle frowned and brushed her fingertips against the top picture before shaking her head. "No, completely blank. Sorry."

"It's alright. We need more food, who wants to do the shopping?" The abrupt change in subject was not unusual, and no one commented on it.

"I'll go, I could use some fresh air," Kar said, grinning. "And Ivy can come too, to make sure I don't get myself into any really bad trouble."

Ivy rolled her eyes, but didn't comment. Rogue nodded and left, taking her gun with her. After a minute, they could hear her shooting at the target outside.

Kar grinned and pulled Ivy to her feet. "Come on, my lovely lady, I got money that's burning a hole in my pocket and we're all out of chocolate chip ice cream! Also, we don't have any more cheese for my famous cheese-bacon-turkey-lettuce-ketchup-egg-chilli sauce sandwich."

"One day that is going to rot out your stomach lining," Ivy muttered, and Kar just nodded happily, pulling on his coat.

"Probably, but at least it tastes good."

"It tastes horrible, Kar."

"Says you."

"That's such a mature response."

"I never claimed to be mature."

"Good, you shouldn't lie."

"You lie all the time."

"That's different."

"How?"

"I can beat the shit out of anyone who argues with me."

"I can fry the shit out of them."

"Kar."

"Yes, my lovely lady?"

"Shut up."

"Why?"

"Because you're annoying me."

"So?"

"I hit people who annoy me."

"Aw, but you love me too much to hit me, right?"

"No."

"I'm crushed!"

"Diddums."

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Who was he? Why did he look so familiar? Why did his picture fill her with hate and… shame?

Rogue was tired of these questions, but they kept preying on her mind, not giving her any respite. She sighed and stared at her reflection, specifically her eyes.

There had never been anything innocent in her eyes, she'd always known that the world was a cruel, dark place and that you were either a fighter or a victim, predator or prey, but she had never had such… empty eyes. Ever since she'd started the Dark Roses, something had been taken from her, lost forever, some spark of… idealism, hope, innocence. Her stormy grey eyes were like a cloudy winter sky, bleak and desolate, where the sun does not shine brightly on the world below, but instead hides its face for a happier day. She wondered if that day would ever come. She doubted it would. The promise of a happier day had died within her when she had seen Scott get his brains blown out.

What was there left for her now? When she stopped the Agency, there would be no reason for the Dark Roses to exist. So what would she do when that happens? What else could she do but fight and kill? Was that all she was? A killer? Surely there was something else that she could be. But what?

And what would happen to her Dark Roses? She had trained them to be fighters, even killers, and there was nothing that could undo that. Would they be like her? Empty and without hope? Had she made a mistake in training them? Did she care if she had?

Sighing, Rogue turned away from the mirror and walked to her bedroom, lying down on the bed and staring at the ceiling. She was just so tired… but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep.

As always, the thing she wanted was the thing she couldn't have. She wanted Scott to love her, but he was in love with Jean. She wanted to be held and cherished, but couldn't touch. She wanted her friends to live, but couldn't save them. She wanted to be happy, but her life was so depressing. She wanted to die, but had to live.

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As ordered, Jamie brought the man's name straight to Rogue, saying that he had indeed been in the military.

"Lt. Colonel Henry Mitchell," Rogue murmured, staring at the printout. "I know him… but I haven't been to any of these bases. So… oh shit."

"Rogue?"

"Leave."

"What?"

"Leave!"

Jamie blinked and left, not liking the sudden look of rage on Rogue's face. The auburn haired mutant was so angry she was shaking, gripping the paper tightly in her fist.

It was him… that bastard… the one who'd… he was back… he… he had…

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I was the first to be interrogated, so no one knew what to expect. Three guards had submachine guns pointed at me as I was lead to a separate room, where a tall, broad-shouldered man was waiting. He smirked at me and I glared back.

"Hm…. You're quite pretty."

Excuse me? I didn't let my surprise or confusion show, though, just let him walk around me as if I were a dog he was considering buying.

"Yes… quite pretty. Strip."

What? "No fucking way."

One of the guards hit me with the butt of his machine gun, right at the base of my neck, and I fell to my knees, still glaring.

"Strip," he commanded harshly.

"Fuck. Off."

He backhanded me, and I fell down sideways, trying to ignore the burning pain in my cheek. Fucking ouch.

"Strip voluntarily or I will cut that costume off you body. You choose."

Well, that was a nice choice. I didn't want to strip, no way no how, but I also didn't want that bastard to bring a knife anywhere near me. Sure, I could take it away from him, but not without inviting a fight, and I could not win against three submachine guns and four handguns.

So… I jerked my gloves off, throwing them on the floor, and resisted the temptation to touch him. I pulled off my boots and uniform and was left in my black satin panties and matching bra. I glared at him, not a hint of embarrassment. I had a lean, curved body, and was proud of it. Just because I had been forced to strip for someone who was probably going to try and rape me (wouldn't that be interesting) didn't mean I had to be ashamed of myself.

"Like what you see?" I asked in a taunting voice. His eyes were cloudy with lust, and he kept licking his lips and swallowing. "Well, just try and touch me. I'll put you in a fucking coma or worse."

A hint of fear seeped into his cruel, hard eyes, and I smirked. These bastards really were scared of us. They hadn't seen me use any powers in the fight with the Sentinel, just good martial arts, but all the other X-Men had put on a pretty good show, and they didn't know what I could do.

"Just what are you?" he demanded.

"I'm pissed off, is what I am. What the fuck do you want with me?"

"I want you… to beg."

Ex-CUSE me? His lips twisted into an ugly, sadistic smile, and gestured to one of the guards. Using his gun as a baton, the ginger-haired guard forced me to my knees and kept me there.

"Beg me, freak," the leader ordered. I glared. "Beg me to let you live. Beg me not to cut you and rape you and hurt you. Because you sure aren't human, none of you are."

No fucking way was I going to beg this sick bastard to let me live. If he didn't like it, he could shoot me. I was NOT begging.

"Beg. Me. Now."

"You are a sadistic idiot and I will take great pleasure in getting revenge for everything you do to me today," I said quietly in Mandarin. I'd made a point of learning other languages so that I could insult and threaten people and not have to worry about repercussions. He frowned, confused, and I smirked again.

"Baka," I said, using the Japanese word for idiot. Unfortunately, he knew that one, and he punched me again, in the same cheek. Dammit that hurt! I made an absent note that he was wearing gloves. Shame.

"Beg me or I will hurt you!" He shouted, and then he seemed to calm himself down. He smiled at me in an almost friendly way, and I felt icy fear spike through my gut. "Or maybe I'll just leave you alone. Maybe I'll hurt one of your other friends. The Negro kid perhaps? Or maybe the blue animal? Or the guy with the metal claws?"

Oh shit. That bastard! I couldn't just stand by and watch my friends get hurt, and he somehow knew that. That fucking bastard! Rage and shame welled up inside me, and I felt tears prickle at the backs of my eyes, but refused to let them fall.

"… Please… sir… don't hurt me… don't hurt them." Oh, Gods, it tasted bitter to beg. But I had to do it. I couldn't let the others get hurt when such a simple thing might save them.

"Again."

"Please, sir, I… plead for mercy. Please don't hurt us."

"Call. Me. Master."

I closed my eyes against the tears and ground out the words. "Please, Master, don't hurt us. Please. I'm… begging you."

"Oooh, I like this. Again."

He made me beg for over two hours. It didn't get any easier, but the thought of my friends kept me strong, not just my friends who were captured with me, but of the other X-Men. They were going to rescue us. I knew they were. They had to.

"Please, Master, I'm begging you not to hurt us. I am you humble servant, I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt us. Please, Master. Please. I'm begging you, Master."

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"Rogue, we got a mutant at the park!"

"Shit." Pushing aside the memories of her time spent at Area 51, Rogue holstered her gun and jogged downstairs. She found everyone waiting outside, huddling in their coats against the wind and rain.

"Go on, Tempus."

Tempus closed her eyes and rubbed her hands together, before slowly drawing them apart, creating a No-Time bubble around them. The raindrops froze in the air and the wind stopped completely. Everyone automatically smoothed their hair back into place as they began walking.

"Alright, what's the sitch?" Rogue asked, and Michelle frowned, absently rubbing her temple.

"This guy's called Onix, and he's powerful. He can create this sort of crystallised armour, and energy blasts to boot. He's not gonna be a pushover."

"So what else is new?" Ivy muttered, her eyes alight in anticipation.