Me: I'm not finishing this. Total one-shot. Must focus on my other fanfics!
Also Me: Oh look, a new hyperfixation!
AKA - enjoy chapter 3 since I apparently have no self-control.
Also, We are still not okay.
~X~X~X~X~X~
Little did anyone realize, as they parted ways and headed out, that the worst had yet to come, and the fight was only beginning.
~X~X~X~X~X~
Hours later… or was it days? Or weeks… Time did not beat here like a living thing. It no longer mattered.
After parting ways to look for survivors, the X-Men had bravely beaten back more Sentinels. Dozens, hundreds, perhaps thousands, even. The robots had attacked on a global scale, even while the world watched in horror over the mass genocide - the cinders - that had become Genosha.
Trask and Gyrich had been freed by their own monstrosities, ending with Trask taunting the team with a second MegaSentinel - another Godzilla.
"While you've been holding hands, we've been setting up the dominos."
Dominos, indeed. The X-Men alone could not resist the attacks - not on a global front - but mutants from around the world had gathered, had arisen from the ashes of the haunted souls of Genosha, to beat back the threat.
And there were casualties. Untold hordes of dead. A genocide.
An Extinction.
But the battle - fierce, and long, and harrowing - was over now. And more were dead. Always, there was more death to be uncovered.
At long last the team came together again, reconvening near the temporary hospital where Rogue had initially nearly joined the long list of corpses lining the beaches, the streets, filling mass graves. Carol was still in control, and had fought long and hard, giving her all to the cause. She'd been an unmatched powerhouse on the battlefield - focused, strategic, brutal. She wasn't encumbered by the crushing loss of Gambit, hadn't witnessed the first, soul-rending atrocities, that made the other survivors weary and timid of another fight.
She had been a leader, a symbol of hope and tenacity. Of strength and courage.
And it helped that the masses - those initial survivors who trembled in fear at the second wave of Sentinels - believed she was Rogue.
Rogue, who had emerged victorious against the first MegaSentinel.
Rogue, who had saved thousands of lives.
Rogue, who had lost the only man she could touch, and the only man she had ever loved, all in one night.
Rogue, who had nearly died, only to rise stronger, more determined, more marvelous.
It helped that the survivors saw only Rogue, and not Ms. Marvel. Had they known that the former had retreated into her own mind, had been rendered essentially catatonic and defenseless by the weight of her burdens, they might not have rallied to her side, might not have answered the call to rise up and take back their city.
But Carol had achieved those things, not Rogue. Yet the world was lauding the latter as a hero, instead of the former. It was a rub. Salt in the open, oozing wounds that had never closed when Rogue stole her powers - and her life - over ten years ago. More than once Carol had nearly divulged the secret, just to set the record straight and reclaim her own glory as Ms. Marvel. But this was not the time for pride and vanity. Now was the time for action. For recovery. For rebuilding.
Now was the time for mourning.
The X-Men had regrouped back at the makeshift infirmary once more, hours - or days - after they had left their fallen teammate in the same room where Rogue had nearly died, where she had rescinded her mind to Carol's control.
Once or twice during the battles, Rogue's grief and rage - so much rage - had bled through into Carol's consciousness, and she had brutalized man and machine alike before she could regain her senses.
But it was quiet in her head now, with Rogue retreating back into the deepest depths of her mind to mourn the life - and love - she had lost. Standing alone in the long shadows of the building, Carol closed her eyes and actually tried to find the other woman, tried to talk to her. As the sun crested the horizon and lit the city in a fiery glow reminiscent of the flames that had so recently engulfed almost half of the island, however, all Carol could find in Rogue's mind were rivers of blood and tears, and the ashes of a shattered heart.
"You alright, Ace?" Wolverine's gruff voice drew Carol out of the misery in Rogue's mind, and she turned, looking him and Nightcrawler up and down.
Wolverine's uniform was in absolute tatters. The entire top half was missing, and it was somewhat of a miracle that he had anything left that resembled pants. Kurt was draped over his shoulder, bleeding and unconscious, but alive.
"Better than him," Carol raised her eyebrow at the furry blue mutant's state, and leveled a look at Wolverine. "Is he going to be okay? I don't even really know who he is, but he's important to Rogue." She winced a little as another wave of anguish and terror echoed through the part of her mind occupied by the other woman.
"He'll live," Logan assured her, finding a solid looking pile of rubble to lay the young man down. "He just exhausted himself. For a preacher, he sure knows his way around a battlefield." He snorted, smiling affectionately at the young man. "Never would have figured him for the swashbuckler type."
Carol said nothing, simply watching the teleporter's chest rise and fall in a steady, soothing rhythm. For whatever reason, it made her feel better, knowing he would be okay. Knowing that Rogue would not have another loss levied against her already shredded soul.
The realization that Carol actually felt SORRY for the young woman who had destroyed her life, for the woman who had kept her trapped in a box within her mind for the better part of a decade, made her scoff in disbelief. "Who is he to her, anyway? She's kind of freaking out, I think. Not that she'll come out and say it."
Wolverine raised an eyebrow at Carol's sudden interest, and took a moment to observe her tattered garments. Her black pants had been shredded into something that resembled Daisy Duke shorts, and her tank top was now little more than a sports bra. Even the heavy boots she had donned were melted and falling apart in places.
"He's her brother - kind of."
"Seriously?" Carol questioned, clearly wanting more of an explanation than Logan was providing.
"Adopted," the Canadian grunted, taking a seat on a hunk of concrete next to the young man's sleeping form.
"I thought Rogue was adopted by … oh." Blue eyes widened in sudden realization as she took in the teleporter's blue coloring. Then again, with a darker tone and with a narrowed, angry glare, "Oh."
Wolverine gave her a slanted, apologetic smile. "Yeah. Some kind of messed up family tree, huh? The real kicker is how a crazy bitch like Mystique ended up with two of her kids as X-Men."
"Family reunions must be a real party," Carol mused, her lips turning up at the corner.
A bark of laughter as Logan tipped his head back and roared. "Darlin', you don't know the HALF of it." But his smile faded a moment later as he leveled a disappointed gaze at her, seeing Rogue, but knowing it was not her. "You get a chance, let her know that her brother needs her. We all do."
Carol set her jaw and swallowed hard, biting down a bitter retort. Had she not just saved a city, and millions of lives, too? Had she not done enough PRETENDING to be Rogue, just so the people would see her rise from the ashes and know they could do the same? Was Logan insinuating that Rogue's worth weighed more than that of her own? That Carol Danvers, Ms. Marvel, who had traveled the cosmos and single handedly beat back invading armies, was nothing more than a stand-in?
Before she could snap an appropriate retort, remind him of who had stepped up and who had run away, they were joined by Scott and Jean. Scott had been badly injured, with blood oozing from his forehead and a massive burn across his arm and shoulder. Jean sported a few cuts and bruises, but otherwise seemed fine. Just behind them, Beast arrived, carrying an unconscious Kitty, and behind him, Colossus, carrying… himself?
Cradled within the tin man's arms was the human form of Piotr Rasputin.
Instantly, Wolverine was on his feet, moving toward the young woman first.
"She's alive," Hank whispered wearily, placing her gently next to Kurt's sleeping form before turning back to the double vision of Colossus. All eyes were on the pair with curiosity and confusion when the face of the mutant's metal form shifted to reveal morph's white, crestfallen expression.
"Where … where should we put the big guy?" Morph asked quietly, his physical burden weighing considerably less than the emotional one.
"He and Gambit shall keep each other's company in both body and soul," Beast replied, wiping his eyes with the back of his furry blue hand. Jean and Scott, who had practically collapsed on a pile of rubble gasped and swore, respectively. Carol sighed, acknowledging the loss of what she assumed was another friend.
"Oh, Ruskie," Wolverine lamented, shaking his head. "Not you, too."
"We, we were surrounded," Morph explained shakily. "Shadowcat was trying to get to some survivors trapped in a warehouse and the Sentinels came - dozens of them. A handful of us fought them back, but there were so many of them. They fired all at once, and this guy used himself as a human shield to protect the rest of us. Kitty came out with the survivors right as he…" Morph paused, sighing. "She went all 'Kill Bill' on the Sentinels, but took a hit and went down, too. We barely made it out alive."
Wolverine placed a comforting hand on Morph's shoulder, knowing how hard such an attack must have been on the shapeshifter. "Come on, pal," his gruff voice was soft and resigned. "I'll show you where we put Gambit. Just be warned - he ain't as pretty as Pete, here."
With a tremble in his lips and tears in his eyes, Morph followed his friend while the others stood in silence. Beast immediately busied himself with tending to Cyclops's wounds, while Carol stared down at the unconscious forms of Kurt and Kitty.
Oh gawd, not another one. Not one more friend, one more ally. And Kitty? It had looked like she and Colossus were a couple. Hadn't she just updated her Facebook status a few months ago? "In a relationship," it had said, and Rogue had smiled at the picture of the cute young couple, looking very much in love. She remembered now. The joy she'd felt that two of her friends had found a connection half a world away had only been levied by the pang of the jealous despair that she would never be able to hold the man she loved the way Kitty did with Piotr in those pictures.
With leaden feet, she shuffled over to the sleeping girl and knelt close. "Ah'm so, so sorry sugah…" Tears pooled and spilled over her own cheeks as bare fingers brushed a lock of hair from the girl's face.
A gentle hand rested on her shoulder and hazel-green eyes met Jean's blue ones for a mere moment before both women gasped at the sudden pull of Rogue's powers. Lightning fast, she jumped away from Kitty and Jean alike, stumbling back and holding her head.
"Rogue?" Jean called, reaching out again, but not making contact. "Rogue, talk to me…"
Shaking her head as if trying to dispel the sorrow and confusion in her brain, blue eyes locked once more with Jean's, and Carol sighed. "It's no good. She's gone again."
"What happened?" Scott asked, standing next to Jean with Hank, who had just finished wrapping the gauze bandages around the leader's wounds.
"Rogue … surfaced," Carol remarked with a grimace. "Just for a minute. She was here, but as soon as Jean touched her, she spooked." The former Avenger rubbed her temples. "Good Lord, Jean, how do you deal with this telepathy thing?" Carol bit back a moan. "The misery - the pain - it's unreal."
"Let, let me help you," Jean offered, placing her hands over Carol's temples.
After a few moments, the woman sighed in relief. "Much better. Thank you."
The redhead nodded solemnly. "Rogue's powers are temporary. It should fade completely in a few hours, or less. I'm not really sure how it works, to be honest."
Carol nodded in understanding, then gestured to Kitty. "Is she okay? I can feel her mind kicking around in here, now, so Rogue must have touched her, too."
Kneeling down, Beast checked Kitty's vitals and examined her other wounds. "She is no worse for wear than before," he reassured the others. "Though, gratefully, she may sleep longer."
"Poor kid," Carol sighed again, folding her arms. "She and Pete were already so in love."
The three X-Men looked at her quizzically, and she smiled lightly, tapping her temple. "It's all up here. That teeny tiny touch, and it's like I can see flashes of her life on a movie screen. I have to force it back though, like turning off a projector. It's … bizarre, almost like…"
Before she could explain further, Morph was rushing out of the building, taking the corner so fast the mutant skidded in the dirt.
"You guys better come quick! Gambit's GONE!"
~X~X~X~X~X~
Oh look, it's another chapter! Yay for me! And also, I'm already losing steam on this guy, so we'll see how far it takes us. I can tell I'm not firing off my best work at ALL with this itty bitty chapter, so we might be at the tail-end of what I'm going to write for it. Who knows. Rogue's momentary appearance was great for me, but I have literally never written anything about any characters other than Rogue and Gambit, so this is a hard one for me.
Also, sorry about killing off Colossus, but death must have its payment, and Rogue can't be the only one in mourning. (Plus, in the comics Colossus dies and comes back, so I figure he'll be okay… eventually.)