Notes: I am SO SORRY for the long wait. I was without my laptop for a while and this chapter was just a bitch to write. So if anyone's still actually interested, here is the Big Fight between Rogue and Mitchell. Enjoy and review!

Chapter Fourty

The breath was burning in her lungs, her skin slick with sweat and blood, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest, but she ignored it all as she sprinted down the corridor, skidding around the corner and reaching out to touch the wall briefly to steady herself. She knew she was close, knew that with every second she was gaining another inch on him, but he knew the layout of the base better than she did, knew where all the secret corridors and dead ends were. She had to get to him before he used some cunning little trick to escape her, she wasn't going to let him get away again. No, it ended here, now.

Gulping down some air, she forced herself to speed up just a little, gritting her teeth against the pain in her leg muscles, and rounded another corner. This time she was able to catch the briefest glimpse of Mitchell before he rushed into a side room.

Feeling a spark of triumph flicker to life within her, Rogue followed him and found him pounding on a door on the far left wall. He was swiping his key card repeatedly through the reader but it only bleeped at him, the door remaining steadfastly closed.

Saying a quick silent thank you to Jamie's virus, Rogue drew her gun and aimed at Mitchell, but he must have heard her because he dived to the side, her bullet hitting the door instead. Cursing, she tracked his movements with her gun, but he was quick, running around haphazardly so that she could never get a clear shot. He was trapped, she was between him and the way out and they both knew that.

Rogue quickly realised that Mitchell wasn't going to give her a clear shot any time soon so she reluctantly lowered her gun, shifting her feet slightly so that it was more of a fighting stance.

Mitchell was quick, she had to give him that. He didn't even stop running around like a headless chicken when she put up her gun, he just changed course ever so slightly and barreled right into her. Grunting, Rogue collapsed to the floor, pinned down underneath his weight, and felt her gun go spinning out of her hand.

Acting on pure instinct, Rogue jerked her knee up into his groin, put her hands on his shoulders, and pushed, shoving him off her and flipping herself onto her feet. She shifted backwards, watching as he staggered to his feet whilst trying to see where her gun had gone. She had others, of course, but that gun was her primary gun, the one that she'd had since the beginning, and she wanted to use it to kill Mitchell. It was stupid and symbolic in a corny sort of way, but she couldn't help but want to use the gun that Xavier had given her to kill Mitchell.

Mitchell lunged at her, aiming for a mid-body tackle like a football player, and she quickly shifted her stance, reaching out so that she could throw him into the ground as soon as he was in reach. He went down with a loud grunt, the air rushing out of his lungs, but he recovered quickly and sprang to his feet. She was surprised, she hadn't thought he was that agile or athletic. He was, however, big, and there was not an ounce of fat on his body. He outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds and that meant that she would just have to be a better fighter, skill against muscles.

Rogue grinned mirthlessly, feeling an extra little surge of adrenaline spark to life within her, and she darted forward, lashing out to claw at his face and following it up with a sharp roundhouse kick that sent him flying. She didn't give him time to recover, following him across the room and punching him hard enough that she felt his jaw crack. He gave a loud, incoherent moan of pain and flailed at her wildly. She was able to dodge for a second, but one of his fists caught her square in the jaw and sent her stumbling back.

Rogue reached down and drew one of her last remaining knives, flipping it open and lunging forward. The blade sunk into his shoulder, tearing through flesh and muscle until it scraped bone. He screamed and went down to his knees, clawing at the knife, but she was standing behind him, one arm thrown across his throat to restrict his air supply. Giving the knife a little twist and jerk, she looked around for her gun and finally saw it resting near the far wall.

She should have been paying more attention to Mitchell, and she cursed herself for the lapse as he somehow managed to reach behind him, apparently ignoring the knife in his shoulder, to grab hold of her and flip her over his head. She fell to the ground with a loud grunt, her head cracking into the concrete just a second after her shoulder and making black spots dance before her eyes. She groaned and shook her head a little, rolling out of the way just before Mitchell could slam a knee into her face. Her bloody knife was lying on the floor and he kicked it to the side. She let him, she didn't need a weapon to gain an edge.

Mitchell rushed at her, slamming his knee into her stomach so that she doubled over, the breath rushing out of her lungs, and he grabbed hold of her, pulling her off the ground with apparent ease and throwing her into the wall, where she crumpled to the floor like a broken doll. She felt something in her shoulder crack and knew that it was serious, but it wasn't important right now, and she stumbled to her feet, staggering forward and using the momentum to give her punches extra strength.

Rogue grunted, slamming her fists into Mitchell's face in a fierce, rapid pattern, stepping forward as he stumbled back. She moved by instinct, twisting her body to evade his weak attempts at retaliation, ducking and turning and dodging, lashing out with fists and feet, not thinking, barely breathing, just moving. And finally, when a sharp uppercut made him pause and stagger backwards, she dived to the side, towards her fallen gun, twisting as she fell so that she landed on her side. Scooping up the gun, she aimed and fired in one smooth movement.

Time froze. The world held its breath. Mitchell blinked in confusion, rising one hand to pat at his chest. His fingers came away crimson, dripping precious red blood, and he dropped to his knees, staring up at her in a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Rogue walked forward, watching impassively as he swayed before collapsing completely to the floor. She knelt down beside him and pressed the cold barrel of the gun to the center of his forehead. For a moment she didn't do anything, but then a grim, twisted smile that left her eyes empty curled her lips.

"You lose," she said quietly, and squeezed the trigger. Mitchell's head disappeared in an explosion of blood and brain matter, some of it splattering unnoticed on to Rogue's face.

Letting the poor excuse for a smile fade from her expression, Rogue stood up and walked slowly out of the room, gripping her gun tightly and not looking back.