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Shattered, Part 10
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With more determination and strength than her shaking legs belied, Rogue strode down the hallway with a singular purpose. Once Mystique realized there was no talking her daughter out of her foolhardy plan, the shapeshifter had fled, anger and indignation washing out her blue skinned face.
"Hey, Emma!" The Southerner called out to the blonde telepath as she finally located her quarry on the first floor with those victims who were considered 'doomed'. Rogue's green eyes were hard and determined as she stalked closer, having tamped down on Carol's attempts to dissuade her. Emma was standing above a young man whose wings - and left arm - had been amputated, and Rogue's breath caught for just a moment before she realized it wasn't her old friend Warren.
The White Queen turned her attention toward the X-Man, one perfectly manicured brow arching upward in disdainful intrigue. "Yes? Is there something you need, Rogue?" The blonde looked the approaching woman up and down, clearly amused - and slightly disturbed - by her severe and resolute body language.
"Actually, yeah," Rogue nodded, casting her gaze around the room full of dying mutants. "'Bout that Hellfire opening?"
Emma's eyes widened in surprise even as the corner of her mouth turned up to deliver a witty retort. Before she could utter a scathing response, however, Rogue ambushed her, a viper upon a rat.
Vicelike, the X-Man's bare hands closed around the telepath's cheeks.
"Consider this mah application," Rogue countered darkly, waiting until the woman's eyes had rolled up in her head and she went limp.
With more gentle care than she had just exhibited, the Southerner laid Emma out on a recently vacated cot, then stumbled slightly under the weight of the telepath's powers.
"Rogue," Carol's voice echoed in her head, exploiting the temporary distraction to push forward in their shared mind. "You know it doesn't have to be like this. There are other ways."
"Ain't," Rogue argued, shaking away the anxiety and unease. "Ah'm sorry if it ends in your death, too, Carol, but Ah'm not leavin' Remy in Apocalypse's hands. Even if none of us make it out alive." With a deep breath, the X-Man reached into Emma's powers and focused on opening her mind to the twelve or so individuals languishing upon the cots, waiting to die.
The sudden onslaught of pain, torment, and fear was so great that the room spun violently and Rogue immediately fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. She bit her lip to contain the scream of agony that threatened to erupt, but couldn't keep from vomiting a mere second later. She was close to collapsing - vision swimming from the overwhelming sensations of those who were suffering - when she was finally able to turn herself into diamond form and cut the telepathic ties.
It took another moment for her to regain her senses, and she stood shakily before steeling herself once again. This time, she focused on three or four individuals at a time, opening her mind to their thoughts alone, and attempting to shield herself from their pain.
She spoke quickly and confidently, but with as much compassion as she could afford. There was sorrow in her voice as she touched their minds, projecting her thoughts and plans into their heads. When she concluded on her plan - her offer to free these poor unfortunate souls from their misery - three of the first four accepted her mercy immediately.
She was, after all, able to give them a way out; give them a means of oblivion - be it temporary or permanent.
The Southerner gave no pretense about the possibility of surviving her soul-sucking touch, and though many feared death, most had already accepted their fate. By this point, the vast majority of the unfortunate souls who had entered their final waystation before meeting Death welcomed it - some even begged for it.
Thus Rogue became a Reaper, sucking souls - and powers - into herself with so much tender benevolence that those who bore witness to it (but did not accept her offer), gave her the moniker L'Ange Du Morte.
The Angel of Death.
A handful of those she touched slipped away within moments, the slightest of smiles on their faces as they left behind their mortally wounded, earthly bodies. Others merely succumbed to the darkness, the oblivion of Rogue's mutant powers granting them a temporary reprieve from their grievous wounds and anguish. It was more effective than the most powerful of drugs, however, instantaneously rendering them unconscious.
For the victims who begged for death, she held on longer than she had ever before dared, utilizing one man's abilities to multiply himself so she could absorb several people at once. Twice more Rogue had to 'borrow' Emma's mutant powers to maintain her grip on her own sanity; to keep those dozen or so personalities and powers within her control. Despite her bravado, the X-Man didn't wish to harm the telepath, and therefore took smaller doses so as to not incapacitate her for an extended period.
Thirty minutes later, when Rogue emerged from the first floor, which had essentially become a 'morgue', she was unrecognizable.
Her brown and white locks had taken on an unearthly blue flame as her hair floated as if in a sea of water. Her skin was green and reptilian, yet shiny and hard, each scale turned to liquid metal. Ethereal appendages sprouted from her back, the 'arms' of her new wings skeletal, yet the 'feathers' shimmering in a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors that seemed to float from the bones. Similarly, horns resembling that of a goat emerged from her forehead and her eyes flared a glowing green. Bone spikes surrounded her knees, elbows, and other major joints providing a type of built in armor, yet randomly sprouted from her arms, legs, and back as well. One bare hand glowed with eternal fire, while the other shifted from solid digits to intangible sand every few seconds. Finally, her entire being was enveloped in a red haze of telekinetic power.
Rogue blinked rapidly as she floated from the building, ignoring the shouts of alarm and looks of horror as she glanced around, figuring out her next move. She could fly to the tiny island north of Genosha where she knew Apocalypse was hiding, but it would still take her more than an hour, and there was no telling how long most of these powers would last - or how long she would be able to control them.
She landed on the dirt - pulverized concrete and sand - a few hundred feet from the entrance of the makeshift hospital and tried to refortify her mental shields. The swirling minds - and torments - of those dozen or so individuals made it difficult to remember her own name, let alone her mission. Her breath quickened as she reached inward with Emma's stolen telepathy and attempted to quell all the minds now trapped within her own. There were so many, however, that it was nearly impossible to quiet them all, and she stumbled forward, barely catching herself on her hands and knees as her body rebelled against the onslaught.
On the brink of losing control, Rogue sucked in a deep breath, head hanging between her extended arms as she knelt on the ground and tried not to vomit again.
"Ex - Excuse me…?"
A small voice broke through the echoing of voices in Rogue's head, surprising her enough that the many psyches suddenly went quiet. Carefully lifting her glowing eyes, she was almost alarmed to find a pink haired girl with shimmering gossamer wings standing shyly before her.
"Are you okay?" The child asked in a slight Briish accent, biting her lip nervously from where she stood 10 feet in front of the slumped X-Man.
Rogue took a deep breath through her nose and forced herself to sit up, placing her simultaneously flaming and swirling hands in her lap. She cleared her throat as she nodded and took a minute to answer. "Y-Yeah. Ah'm alright, now. Thanks."
The X-Man cocked her head slightly, brows furrowed as she observed the child, who wore a dirty and torn blue blazer and matching skirt, with disheveled knee-high socks and scuffed black Mary Jane shoes. Despite the chaos raging in her brain, she tried to muster up an encouraging smile as she met the girl's warm almond eyes. "What's your name, sweet pea?"
"Megan. Megan Gwynn," the girl whispered, hardly meeting Rogue's gaze as she rubbed her arms. "But my friends call me Pixie." She didn't seem afraid of the Southerner's rather menacing appearance, yet she was acting rather apprehensive all the same.
"That's a right nice name. Ah'm Rogue," the X-Man introduced herself, trying to coax the girl into conversation even if she had a more pressing mission at the moment. "You mind if I call you Pixie? I know we ain't really friends, yet, but Ah'd like ta be."
With a bit of a watery smile, the young girl nodded mutely as she stared in wonder at the older woman. "You're one of the X-Men, right?" Pixie asked timidly. "Leech told us about you, about what you can do, before he… before…" Tears cascaded from the girl's brown eyes as she bowed her head.
Rogue's heart lurched. She wished she could give the child a hug, but right now, with the tumultuous flow of powers running through her body, any contact could be dangerous. "Ah am at that. Ah'm so sorry about your friend Leech, suga'. Ah knew him mahself - he was a good friend." Despite the burning of powers behind her glowing green eyes, she felt tears slide down her own cheeks as she commiserated in the loss of the young boy.
Quickly, she steeled herself once more, trying to redirect her attention as she felt the pangs of grief and rage threaten to boil over and rip away the tenuous control she had over all those powers.. "Is there somethin' Ah can do for ya, Pixie? Ah ain't really part of the ground efforts right now, and Ah'm in a bit of a hurry, but Ah'm sure Ah can find someone t' help look for your parents." Rogue cast her gaze around, simultaneously encouraged and disheartened to see a handful of bystanders gawking at the strange looking pair.
The girl shook her head sadly but still would not meet the X-Man's gaze. "My parents died a long time ago. I - I was living with my grandparents in Wales, but they … I'm alone now."
"Ah'm - Ah'm so sorry, Megan," Rogue replied, casting anxious glances toward a pair of nearby onlookers. She could easily use Emma's telepathy to 'encourage' the other mutants to assist the young girl. "Um, let's see if we can find someone ta get ya set up in…"
"No!" Megan declared suddenly, glancing at the same pair Rogue was eyeing. "No - I, I don't need help. I just…" The girl bit her lip as tears slid down her cheeks. "I saw what you did for those people in there, and…"
"Oh, Pixie, Ah'm so sorry," Rogue's heart splintered with guilt over the fear she must have instilled in the child. "Ah'm so sorry you saw that, suga'. Ah need ta be some place, and mah powers let me help those people let go of their pain - let them rest peacefully. But it helps me, too, with the mission Ah'm on."
Instead of the fear Rogue had expected to see, however, only hope, understanding, and sadness shone in the girl's eyes as she abruptly nodded.
"I - I know," Pixie licked her lips and swallowed hard as more tears rolled down her heart-shaped face. "I want you to do it to me, too."
A gasp of horror escaped Rogue's lips and she was stunned speechless for a moment as she stared at the child. "Oh gawd, honey. That's… No, sweet pea." She shook her head vigorously, glowing eyes shining more brightly with tears as they matched Megan's. "Those folks were dyin', Megan - Pixie. Ah gave them a choice, but it wasn't much of one. You're still here - still livin'."
The X-Man longed to envelop the girl in a hug, but with her tumultuous array of borrowed powers, there was no way to do so safely. "Ah know it feels like the world is endin' - like there ain't nothing left to live for - but you still MATTER. You're here, and there's a gotta be a reason for it. That's what mah brother Kurt always says. 'God always has a plan, even if we don't know what it is, yet." She tried to force a smile on her face to reassure the girl with platitudes she didn't quite believe herself.
"I don't…" Megan bit back a choked sob. "I don't want to be alone any more. Please? Please help me die like you did for them?" This time the girl took a few quick steps forward and Rogue had to vault to her feet, scrambling backward as the child advanced with her bare hands outstretched as if trying to wrap the X-Man in a hug.
"No, Megan," Rogue shook her head, holding back her own sobs as she retreated. Where was her brother, the preacher, who always knew the right things to say? Where were the X-Men, who could help this little girl who was alone and suffering? "Ah'll help you find someone ta stay with right now, and when the X-Men come back, you talk to them - let them know you need help. But Ah ain't gonna…"
The child's face morphed from hopeless grief to desperate agony as she realized her wish would not be granted. Before Rogue could blink, Megan had teleported from where she'd stood and was hovering with her fairy wings directly in front of the X-Man, hands grasping the mutated Southerner's face with her small, frail fingers.
"No!" Rogue shrieked, reflexively reaching up to wrench the girl's hands away despite her newly manifested abilities. The girl screamed - partly from pain as her arm burned from the flaming hand, and partly from her denied oblivion - but within the few seconds her skin was able to touch the X-Man's face, she succumbed to Rogue's touch.
The Southerner was barely able to control her strength as she yanked the child away, but her unconscious body still hit the ground with enough force to make Rogue wince. She wanted nothing more than to rush forward and check her pulse, fly her up to the nearby 'hospital', but with the cacophony of scarcely controlled powers, she didn't dare.
Instead, Rogue used Emma's telepathy to 'nudge' a few of the gawking onlookers closer, implanting the notion that they would take the girl to the closest doctor and stay with her until the X-Men returned and helped her find a new home. Watching the strange couple walk toward the makeshift hospital with the unconscious Pixie, the Southerner closed her eyes and smudged that fatal day of terror within the child's mind. Specific events and trauma became slightly blurred within once vivid memories, and the feelings of despair and bereavement lost their sharpness.
The X-Man knew that tampering with Megan's young mind was dangerous and frowned upon by telepaths like Xavier and Jean, but she had felt - had recognized and empathized with - what the girl was going through, and the equally dangerous path she was heading down. If tweaking a few emotions to feel less suffocating kept Pixie alive and well long enough for her to get some real help, then so be it.
In the meantime, the Southerner wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and she was simultaneously grateful for and guilt-stricken by the turn of events. Without meaning to, Pixie had just provided the X-Man with the last power set necessary to traverse the distance between Genosha and Apocalypse's hideout.
Taking a deep breath, Rogue allowed the multitude of borrowed abilities to flare to life, enshrouding her in the surge of power.
She blinked, and was gone.
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AN: Sorry this one is SUPER short (like 5 pages). I wanted to push SOMETHING out after such a long hiatus, however, so I hope you'll forgive me for the brevity. Initially, Pixie was supposed to be the catalyst for this scene, but after Rogue's encounter with Mystique, the mood shifted and Megan's heartbreaking pleas no longer worked the same way. I also opted to gloss over the hospital scene rather than go into detail because A) it was too intense to try and empathize with what Rogue (and the vicitms) would go through, and B) I wanted to save some mental energy for upcoming scenes.
I am TERRIBLE with fight scenes, and although I know somewhat of what I want to happen next, I would love some help brainstorming and figuring out the exact scenes if anyone wants to PM me and chat via email.