Thanks for all the reviews, you guys! I've got the story all planned out, and it looks like it's going to be quite long, so hope you all are in for the long haul. I should be able to get a post up every day for the next week or so since my college has fall break this weekend and since I don't have work, either. Some days, like today, I may even just get two up. Hope you all enjoy!

                                ~BQ

Chapter Seven:


Time was irrelevant.

She didn't know how long it had been since Hank had left her alone in the med-room. She didn't know how long it had been since Harmony had come back and shown her to the room that had been prepared for her. She didn't know how long it had been since she had dropped down onto the bed, and just laid there, her face buried in the pillow.

It had been at least a day or two. She knew that because Hank had come in with a try full of food at least six times, and, much to his disappointment, all six times the tray had been taken out untouched.

Once she had wondered if maybe she should eat a bite or two, just so he wouldn't get that forlorn, sad look on his face, but she found she had absolutely no appetite at all, and the mere thought of eating made her dizzy and lightheaded.

That's from not eating, you idiot, Carol muttered. Geez, are you trying to starve us to death here? Eat something, for crying out loud! Eat anything! Just eat!

Why do ya care? Rogue thought dully.

I don't, Carol snapped. But I'm stuck in this body, too, you know, and the least you could do is eat something before we both die of famish!

Rogue ignored her, as she often had over the past few days. Talking to Carol was the same as arguing with Carol, and it was too stressful to bother with. Rogue was too tired to even care what the other girl said half the time.

God! Carol cried in frustration. You are so stubborn! While you're sitting here moping, we're both getting weaker! Dammit, if you won't eat for either of us, at least eat for your friends! The Beast and Spike-boy are freaking out!

It was true, the others were worried. Hank had even voiced it a few times, in his own subtle way. Evan, he just stood in the doorway, looking in on her with that sorrowful, concerned look on his face. She knew they were both thinking about her constantly, afraid for her, worried for her. Even the Acolytes seemed anxious to see her get better, for Gambit had come to the door on more than one occasion, asking if she wanted to come down fro breakfast or dinner, but she ignored him and he went away disappointed.

She knew she should feel bad that she was worrying them so much, but she didn't. How could she, when there was so much else to feel bad about right now?

The Institute was gone. The place she had lived for the past two years, the mansion that had become more than just a house, that had become a home, was gone forever. She would never get to run down the stairs late to grab a doughnut out of the kitchen after oversleeping for school. She would never get to hang out in the living room with Scott and Kurt and Bobby when a good horror movie came on television. She would never get to pound on the door to the bathroom, demanding Jean hurry up so the rest of them could get a turn before they had to leave for school.

She would never even get to run one of the Danger Room sessions again, and that she was saddened by that was a testament to just how deeply she had become attached to life at the Institute.

More than half of her team, of her friends, were dead. Eight students had been in the mansion when it exploded, eight people that she cared about were now gone. She could hardly believe that she would never see any of them again, and yet she did believe it, for the pain was real and the grief unbearable.

Little Jamie Madrox, whom had always liked to follow her around the mansion, who had been able to melt her Death Glare with that rueful little smile of his, who had blushed whenever she ruffled his hair. He was only thirteen for crying out loud! He was too young to be dead! He should have been out playing baseball and exploring creeks. But he wasn't. And he would never get the chance now.

Rhane wasn't much older, and she was an emotional person when things got stressful. Rogue could picture her clinging to Sam, her best friend, tears streaming down her face. She would have made no secret about the fact that she was scared, but she would have tried to bury herself in Sam's arms. Had she chosen to shift to wolf form for the end, or had she decided to remain human?

Sam would have tried to act brave, but he would have been terrified. Not for himself, but for the others. He was a kind boy, gentle and caring, always thinking about everyone but himself. Rogue had no doubt that he had been that way till the end. Maybe he'd tried to bust their way out of the mansion with his powers. Maybe he'd known not too bother trying, that DefCon4 was impenetrable.

Ray would have been pacing nervously, that boy was just too wound up to ever sit still for very long. He would have been crackling with electricity, blasting the walls in vain, his way of unleashing some of his frustration. He would have been shaking, of course, he always did when he was nervous. Too much energy coursing through his body, making him jittery. He probably would have yelled some, cursed at everything he could think of to curse at, but on the inside, he wasn't angry, not really. He was just scared, and, being Ray, that was his way of dealing.

Amara and Roberto had most likely sat close together, huddled along the wall in silence. They had a crush on one another, everyone knew that, and of course the only time they would admit it would be now that the end was near. They wouldn't say anything, they'd just sit there. Together. Amara would cry. Roberto would comfort her, but he'd be crying, too. Maybe they had even shifted into their fire forms to make their deaths less painful. There was no way to know.

Jubilee would have tried to comfort them all, of course, and Rogue found herself wondering how much warning they had gotten, how much time they'd had to say goodbye to one another, to cower in fear, to cry into each other's arms. Jubilee was strong, she would have tried to comfort the younger kids, tried to give them strength even though she was scared out of her mind. Rogue had always liked Jubilee for that strength, she hoped it had stayed with her till the end.

And then there was Scott. Scott, Xavier's first student. Scott, the leader of the X-men. He would have been grateful, for once, to have those glasses on, so none of the others could see the fear in his eyes. He would have acted perfectly calm up until the very end, keeping a steady voice and giving the others a bit of reassurance. He would do such a good job at pretending he wasn't scared that he'd even start to believe it himself. He didn't want to die, but he had always known it was a possibility. They all had. They'd just expected to go down in a fight, not like this.

Not trapped in their own home.

Eight lives lost, in one single, terrible moment.

How many more had been lost already? How many more would be lost before it was all over?

If it was ever over.

Magneto had not stopped looking for the Professor yet, but Rogue knew it was only a matter of time. If the Master of Magnetism himself couldn't find him, who could? And they had no way to know if he was even alive or not. They had found no signs of him or Kitty, Kurt and Jean. They hadn't even found any signs of the Brotherhood.

Rogue wondered, briefly, if Magneto was worried about Wanda. She couldn't believe that he was so heartless that he didn't care if his own daughter lived or died. No man could be that cold, that cruel, not even Magneto. Right?

Well, regardless of what Magneto felt or didn't feel, Rogue was worried. About her teammates, about her former teammates Lance and Todd. Hell, she was even worried about Wanda and she barely knew her.

She was more worried for the others, though, and she felt no guilt in that. She knew them better, they were family. Even, in a strange horribly odd way, Lance and Todd. She had been close to Lance while she was with the Brotherhood. She hadn't even known it until after she left. Only when she'd joined the X-men, when she'd missed his presence in the house, when she'd felt a lump in her throat during her first battle against the Brotherhood, had she realized that they'd grown closer than she had thought. When she'd seen the look in his eyes when she stood alongside Scott and Jean that battle, she'd known that he felt horribly betrayed. Maybe that was part of the reason she'd backed his romance with Kitty so much.

With Todd, though, it was different. They had never been that close. She'd always found him rude, odd and annoying. He'd always found her bitchy, creepy and scary. Still, they'd been family for a time, and, like any family, they'd learned to put aside their differences and actually like one another. Rogue hated to think about the younger boy going through the things she went through in Trask's prison. Out of all of them, she knew he'd survive the shortest.

Kitty was her roommate, her dearest friend. As hard as she'd tried not to like the younger valley girl, she'd failed, and found herself enjoying the girl's company. When Kitty had started dating Lance, the others had all been concerned, nervous. But not Rogue, she saw how much Kitty liked him, and that was enough for her. She had offered her roommate her support, and backed their relationship one hundred percent. She'd never felt closer to anyone than when Kitty would come home from her date and spill all of the details to her as they got ready for bed.

Jean was like a big sister. As annoying as she could be, as much as Rogue disliked her at times, the older girl had always been nice to her, had always looked out for her, and Rogue honestly considered her a sister, as scary as that thought was. Even though she'd been bitter to Jean, mainly because the other girl could touch, partly, at first, because of Scott, Jean had always looked out for her, and Rogue felt safe with her around.

And Kurt... Kurt was just Kurt. The fuzzball. The elf. The blue acrobat with a severe addiction to jelly doughnuts. Rogue used to have to race downstairs to try and get one before he ate them all, since they were the only two that liked them. Kurt could drive her crazy like no one else, but he could also make her laugh, which was something very few people were capable of. There was just something about Kurt that clicked with Rogue. She couldn't stay mad at him for long, she couldn't help smiling when he was around. She felt comfortable around him, comfortable enough to let him close to her without cringing. She didn't know what it was about him, but she found herself feeling more at ease and more at peace whenever he was with her.

Then there was Professor Xavier himself. The man who'd given her so much, who'd given her purpose, love, a home and a family. He'd cared for her, for all of his X-men, and he had never given up hope that one day they would find a cure for her mutant abilities, or at least figure out how to allow her to bypass them enough to experience the simple wonder of touch. He'd understood her sometimes caustic, bitter nature, and never tried to change her. He'd accepted her for who she was, good and bad, and simply done all he could to help her, but letting her make her own decisions. Lord, she hoped he was okay. Wherever he was.

It's not like it matters, Carol sneered. They're either dead or they realized they're better off without you.

Shut up, Rogue thought dully. Ah don't want t' hear ya voice right now, Carol.

Yeah, well, I don't want to be in your head right now, Rogue, Carol shot back. But I am. So deal with it.

Rogue wondered if the Professor, or another telepath, would be able to just fry Carol out of existence from her head. She didn't care if they had to fry a few of her nerve endings or synapse in the process. As long as they got Carol out, she would be happy.

And at peace.

He wouldn't help you even if he could, Carol laughed coldly. Three months, Rogue. Three months. If they were alive, why didn't they come for you? Why was it your enemies who rescued you, instead of your so called friends, hmm?

Precisely the question she had been avoiding asking herself.

Of course, Carol knew that, which was why she had said it. To use against her. To hurt her.

Either they're dead, Rogue, Carol snickered. Or they just don't care about you. Take your pick.

Go away, Rogue said, not in the mood to fight.

She wasn't in the mood to do anything, really.

Carol sighed, and retreated to the back of her mind, obviously disappointed that she couldn't even rile Rogue up enough for a bickering.

Rogue felt a twinge of satisfaction at that.