159Alcatraz Island
The ground was littered with bodies.
Some Magneto's followers and others the soldiers who'd given their lives to fight against him.
Mutant and human, rendered to the same fate.
She tried not to look at their faces, tried not to wonder about the families they'd left behind.
There were fathers who would never come home to their children now, and children whose parents would never know what had become of them.
Parents like Joseph and Marie Danvers.
A massive fireball soared across the sky again.
But this time Rogue had a better vantage point, and was able to see where the flaming cars were being aimed.
One of the main buildings was being used as a bunker, soldiers were crouched down in a trench dug in front of it, and more still were tucked behind the doorways, weapons in hand but not firing.
They knew bullets weren't much use against the Master of Magnetism.
And right now they were more concerned with staying alive.
The X-men were there, putting themselves between Magneto and the soldiers, and Rogue had a moment to truly appreciate, with a touch of wondrous awe, what Charles Xavier had built, what he had instilled and nurtured in each and every one of them, to bring together a team that would put their own lives on the line for people who might tomorrow be trying to kill them instead of Magneto.
Maybe it was pointless, Magneto's numbers were far greater than their own, maybe they were going to die here.
But it wouldn't be for nothing.
Fierce pride swelled within her, and Rogue felt her eyes glisten.
If you could see us now, Professor...
Logan, Mr. McCoy, Peter and Bobby were in the thick of things, holding the line.
She didn't see Kitty, and her heart sank, dreading... but, as Kitty was always bragging, it was nearly impossible for anything to actually hurt her, as long as she stayed intangible, and so Rogue wasn't willing to count her out just yet.
The wind shifted sharply, Ororo was on the roof, using her powers as best she could.
But it was Rogue's turn now, time for her to take center stage.
In the distance, Magneto gestured, just a small flick of his wrist, and another car flew off of the bridge like a projectile missile.
John lit it on fire in midair, and Rogue burst into movement.
Gritting her teeth, she let Carol's instincts wash over her and rocketed up to meet the flaming car, shoving out her arms in front of her as she came up in front of it. The impact pushed her through the air about a foot, but she had the car, and, flashing a smirk at the rather startled look on Magneto's face, Rogue hurled it back in his direction.
He batted it aside with his powers, of course, but the look on his face was worth it.
Not so weak now am, I, Erik?
"Rogue?"
She heard the startled cries of the X-men from below, but ignored them, knowing better than to take her eyes off of Magneto.
It only took a few seconds for his surprise to wear off, and then she watched his face settle into a hard mask, a glint of irritation and anger shining through in his eyes as a car began to rise into the air on the bridge behind him, and then another and another.
He looked at John, expectantly.
Rogue hovered in the air, watching her old friend, waiting.
"Pyro," Magneto said lowly.
John shook his head, as if shaking himself free of the past, and stepped forward, flames flickering to life at his fingertips.
His dark eyes, always so troubled, burned in the glow of the fire.
Oh, John, Rogue thought, her heart heavy with regrets and bittersweet memories.
She caught the first car, the flames licking at her hands as she crumpled the car into a ball of twisted metal and hurled it with all her might toward the ocean, before turning around just in time to grab the second car inches from her face.
The third car was right behind it and with her hands full she knew she'd have to block it with her body.
She closed her eyes, steeling for the impact, but it never came.
A blast of frigid air swept over her, her skin tingling, and a loud crashing sound filled the air.
Opening her eyes, Rogue looked down to find that the third car had slammed into the ground, now encased in a thick block of ice.
And just below her, Bobby was lowering his hands.
The Iceman cometh...
He looked up at her and their gazes caught, for just an instant, and Rogue smiled, grateful to see him alive and whole and strong. Even at a distance, she could see the same reflected in his wide eyes, accompanied by an awestruck gaze that she assumed had something to do with the fact that she was suspended in midair and holding a flaming car as if it weighed nothing.
Movement caught her eye, and she was about to warn Bobby, but he must have seen it, too.
He tore his gaze away from her as John bounded down the ridge to meet him, ready to rumble, and Rogue saw Bobby's jaw tighten, his fists clench at his sides, and knew that he had been expecting this fight.
Waiting for it.
Anxious for it, even.
That same hard, steely anticipation was etched on John's face as the two drew up in front of one another, and Rogue thought back to that day at the museum food court, a lifetime ago.
John had been stupid, showing off, reckless as usual.
And Bobby had to clean up his mess.
They'd looked at each other then the way they did now, tense and bristling and itching to come to blows.
The Professor's arrival had put a stop to that.
But Xavier wasn't here now.
Rogue started to float down toward them, angry and ready to tell them both off for being such stupid, testosterone-filled boys, when the wind suddenly changed, gently blowing her away from their confrontation.
Startled, Rogue looked up to see Ororo.
"Let them go," her teacher ordered, in that tone of voice that left no room for argument. "This is Bobby's fight, and we need you."
Without waiting for a reply, Ororo moved away, sending lightning crashing down at their enemies.
Rogue hesitated, staring after Bobby and John as ice and fire formed up at their disposal, crashing together in a whirl of steam that enveloped them both, and then she turned and followed Ororo.
So help me, she though viciously. If either of you die, I'm going to kill you both!
Following Ororo's lead, Rogue plowed her way into the mutants below, driving a big guy trying to stab Logan from behind to the ground with a satisfying crunch of broken bones.
Logan barely spared her a glance as he stuck his claws into the nearest enemy.
"Yer late, kid."
"Traffic's a bitch," Rogue retorted, punching a young guy dumb enough to try and grab her, and though she used as much restraint as she could so she wouldn't bust right through his skull, he still went sailing through the air.
She caught a hint of a grin on his face as he turned away, and they fell into the fight once more.
Magneto's army had been enormous when they first arrived at Alcatraz Island, but the combined efforts of the X-men and the soldiers defending the compound had slowly but surely begun to whittle away their numbers. Rogue had lost track of how many mutants she'd felled, whether by absorbing them or by taking them down with borrowed powers. No matter how many she took out, there had seemed to be an endless number ready to fight her every time she turned around.
Now, though, Magneto's grand army had been reduced to a small mob.
All of the key players had been taken out, and Rogue suspected that some of the remaining mutants had decided it was a losing battle and turned tail in the middle of the chaos.
What was left was mostly cleanup.
But as long as Magneto was still standing, as long as Jean was at his side, the war was far from over.
A sharp flare of light caught her attention below, and she dropped the mutant she'd been hitting to investigate, her heart stopping as she found Bobby being driven to his knees.
John was overpowering him.
The stream of orange flames pouring forth from John's hands was relentless, ravenously devouring the beam of ice Bobby was shooting out to defend himself.
And, inch by inch, the fire crept closer to Bobby's face.
"Bobby," Rogue whispered in fear.
Just as she was about to ignore Ororo's orders and descend to the battle below to rescue her boyfriend, John's flames suddenly erupted in a crescendo, surging forward to swallow up the last visible bit of ice between him and Bobby, and then, to Rogue's horror, Bobby, too, was consumed by the flames.
A scream rose up within her, dying in her throat as her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
Oh God, Bobby...
And then, to her disbelief, a hand emerged from the fire.
Then another, clasping onto John's forearms.
She couldn't see what was happening inside of the flames, but from the look of shock on John's face it was something big.
Ice shot up John's arms, all the way to his elbows, and the fire evaporated, just like that, in an explosion of steam that burst forth into the air like a geyser. Rogue flinched as it sprayed across her face, searing at her cheek, and when she turned her head back again she found herself gaping much like John had been.
Bobby was standing tall and whole, unharmed by the fire.
And made of ice…
She couldn't help gawking at his new form, stunned by this turn of events and captivated by the way that the reflection of the fires burning around him danced across his ice skin.
"Rogue," Logan's voice barked, and she started, turning to look for him and landing where he was conversing with Peter and Mr. McCoy, even as they shoved around the last stragglers of Magneto's army. "With Pyro out of the picture," Logan grunted, taking a guy down with a solid punch. "Magneto's as vulnerable as he's going to get. We're taking him down now."
Rogue's gaze was drawn to the syringes in Mr. McCoy's hand.
Her body went still of its own accord.
It was the only way to end this, without killing him, yet she couldn't help remembering Mystique.
How abused the shapeshifter had felt, how violated she'd been, by having the cure forced on her. Did anyone deserve that, even Magneto?
Being "cured" would hurt Magneto far worse than death, Rogue knew it.
She knew him, better than anyone.
Better than she wanted to.
He'd raped her mind on Liberty Island, and that violation had left scars that went deeper than the white streak against her dark hair.
That was the day that she learned the truth about her powers.
Her mutation made her a victim.
That had been one of the main reasons she wanted the cure so desperately, but Mystique had made her realize that her powers weren't just a curse. They could do as much good as harm, could be made into her strength instead of her weakness, if she embraced her mutation.
"It's this or kill him, darlin'," Logan said gruffly.
"I know," she answered, and, remembering Carol's face just before they plummeted from the sky, she swallowed hard. "We've got enough blood on our hands already."
Logan's sharp gaze narrowed, appraising, but he let it go for now.
"You know what to do," he said instead.
Rogue nodded silently, and began to lift herself into the air. As she floated away, the steam in the air began to thicken, coagulating into a heavy fog, courtesy of Ororo. It made it more difficult to see where she was going, but that was the point.
If she couldn't see, neither could Magneto.
As she flew silently across the water, rounding the island, she caught sight of Magneto's back in the distance.
And the unmistakable form of Jean Grey not far away.
Rogue drew a sharp breath, knowing that Jean could sense her approaching, but the woman now calling herself the Phoenix gave her no more acknowledgment than a flicker of her eyes in her direction.
Maybe some part of Dr. Grey is still in there, Rogue thought wistfully.
By the time that her newly acquired seventh sense detected rapid movement in the mist ahead, Rogue was in place.
Magneto caught Logan in midair easily, manipulating the adamantium in Logan's skeleton.
Logan hit the ground, sliding on his face to land at Magneto's feet, and then the Master of Magnetism flicked his wrist, flipping Logan over onto his back. "You never learn, do you?" he asked, with a pitying exasperation that was almost grandfatherly.
"Actually," Logan grunted, and she could hear the smirk. "I do."
Without warning, Rogue floated down behind Magneto and placed her bare hand on the nape of his neck, the patch of skin exposed in the space between his collar and his helmet.
The familiar pull filled her as Magneto gasped, immobilized as his powers, his memories, his life, seeped into her.
Rogue had a feeling she was going to be dreaming about Auschwitz again for some time.
Through the fog came another figure, as Hank McCoy landed in front of them. She felt Magneto stiffen at the sight of the syringes in his furry hand, but with her hand firmly clasped on his neck there was nothing that Magneto could do but watch as McCoy's hand came up and all four needles came down at his chest.
Magneto drew a sharp breath as the syringes went in, and Rogue cringed, turning her head.
With the cure pumping into his bloodstream, she let go of his neck and he crumpled to the ground, pale as death and teetering on the verge of unconsciousness.
No longer Magneto, now just Erik Lensherr.
"I'm..." he wheezed.
"One of them?" Logan finished for him, harshly.
Weak and feeble, as if the years were catching up to him now that his powers were gone, Erik turned his head, looking not to Logan, but to Jean Grey, who had not moved to help him. She was still, silent, aloof, watching with the emotionless eyes of one who thought it all beneath her.
"This is what they want for all of us," Erik said hoarsely.
Jean's eyes narrowed, shimmering gold like a bird of prey's, and Rogue felt a chill go through her, a sense of foreboding that she couldn't explain.
"It's over, Jean," Logan said, stepping over Erik on the ground. "It's over."
"Logan," Rogue whispered.
His head started to turn in her direction, just a fraction, when the cause of her alarm suddenly became clear. Her seventh sense exploded in alarm as a swarm of soldiers flooded up over the ridge behind Jean, guns in hand.
"No," Logan cried, realizing just as she did. "Don't-"
A dozen machine guns opened fire on Jean Grey's unsuspecting back.
"-shoot!"
The sound of gunfire drowned out Logan's hoarse shout, and time seemed to slow down as the bullets raced toward Jean.
It took a moment for Rogue to realize that the bullets actually were slowing down.
One by one they exploded into dust, disintegrating into nothingness under the sheer force of Jean's telekinesis, and even as Rogue stared in wonder at the magnitude of Jean's powers, the hair on the back of her neck tingled.
Then something hit her lightly in the stomach, and she looked down in surprise to see a bullet at her feet.
She'd been caught by one of the stray bullets that got past Jean.
A bullet had hit her.
A bullet had hit her... and bounced off.
Rogue looked up to see Logan and Mr. McCoy staring at her, the disbelief she was feeling mirrored on their faces. A heartbeat passed where she thought she would either faint dead away or burst into a fit of unhinged laughter at the sheer insanity of it all.
"I'm bulletproof," she whispered breathlessly, and a grin started to form on her lips, but died as her eyes fell on Jean.
Dr. Grey had turned in the direction of the soldiers on the ridge, who were scrambling back down the other side, but not fast enough to escape the wrath of the Phoenix.
It took a moment for Rogue's mind to process what her eyes were seeing and when it did, she thought she was going to be sick.
"NOOOOOOOO!" Logan shouted, but Jean was beyond them now.
Like the bullets they'd fired, the soldiers suddenly began to turn to dust one by one, their bodies being torn apart at the molecular level, until all that was left was their ashes, wafting in the wind.
Just like Professor Xavier.
Jean rose into the air as effortlessly as if she, too, had absorbed the power of flight, but her ability to float was from her telekinesis, Rogue knew, and dread overwhelmed her as the island began to erupt in violence around them under Jean's rage. Lights exploded, sending shards of glass raining down on them, the very foundations of the buildings behind them began to fall apart and the island itself shook as if suffering an earthquake.
"Everybody get out of here," Mr. McCoy shouted, and began to run toward the bunker where the remaining soldiers were being hammered with flaming debris.
Jean landed on a mountain of debris and a blazing explosion lit the sky behind her, casting her against a backdrop of flame. Her hair billowed out behind her in the wind, her coat whipping around her, the glow of the fire illuminating the frenzy in her eyes.
"What have I done?"
Magneto's throaty whisper caught Rogue's ears, and she turned in time to see him on his feet and scrambling away with the soldiers he'd been trying to kill.
For all of a second, she considered going after him, but he was no longer a real threat.
Jean was.
So she let Magneto go, let him disappear into the chaos of soldiers swarming out of the bunker and running for their lives. The buildings were caving in on them, large chunks of concrete rained upon their heads as they raced for the bridge, the ocean, anywhere but the island.
"Goddess, no," Ororo's voice startled her, and Rogue looked up to see Ororo dropping from the sky beside her. "Jean..."
She started forward, but Logan held out an arm in front of her. "I'm the only one who can stop her," he said in a strange, unsteady tone, and Ororo laid a hand on his arm, a look passing between them that Rogue couldn't decipher. "The X-jet blew into pieces, get everyone to safety somehow." Ororo's hand fell from his arm, but she hesitated, and Logan gave her a sharp growl. "Go!"
Despite the fact that she was the leader of the X-men now that Scott was dead, not him, Ororo heeded Logan's words and lifted back into the sky.
"That means you, too, kid," Logan grunted, without looking at Rogue.
"I can help," Rogue protested, shaking her head. "I can absorb her and knock her out and we can get her back home and-"
"And what?" Logan demanded harshly. "Without Xavier, we can't control her."
Rogue flinched, not from his tone, but at the realization that he was right, that he knew he was right, and at the understanding of just what he was intending to do in order to stop Jean and save her from herself.
"Then let me do this with you," Rogue insisted. "You saw what happened back there- I'm indestructible."
"Don't get cocky just because you can deflect bullets, kid," Logan snarled. "There's no tellin' the limits of whatever powers you've got right now, or when they're gonna wear off. You may be pretty damn near impossible to kill right now, but Jean's powers could still rip your molecules apart and without a healing factor you'd be dead in a heartbeat."
"You don't know that," Rogue cried.
"I ain't takin' the chance."
"But Logan-"
Before she could argue any further his gloved hands had come up to cup her face roughly. "I'm so proud of you, kid," Logan growled, and her eyes began to sting, wondering why he sounded like he was saying goodbye. "But you have to go. I need you to get the hell out of here and be safe so I can do this."
Rogue opened her mouth, but closed it at the look he gave her.
"This is something I gotta do, darlin'," he said gruffly, and his hands fell away from her face as he looked past her, to Jean. "And I gotta do it alone."
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Rogue stepped aside and let him pass.
"Jean!" his voice rang out.
Blinking back tears, Rogue took to the air and flew away without looking back, afraid that if she did she would never be able to leave. She flew across the island in a matter of seconds, high above the heads of the soldiers scrambling along the bridge. Her eyes scanned the crowds as she went along, looking for any of the X-men, her heart in her throat.
"Rogue!" a familiar voice shouted.
Looking down, her eyes found Bobby in the midst of the chaos on the bridge.
Slung over his shoulder, unconscious, was John.
As she dropped down beside him, Bobby opened one arm and she let him wrap her in a fierce, albeit awkward hug, as John's dead weight fell over his shoulder.
She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and burrow into his embrace, but there was no time, and when they were jostled by soldiers rushing past, Rogue begrudgingly pulled away, just in time to spot another familiar face coming their way.
"Whoa, who did you absorb?" Kitty asked with a tired smile, limping over. "Superman?"
"Are you okay?" Bobby and Rogue asked at the same time, then glanced at one another uncomfortably.
A flutter of wings broke the awkward silence, and suddenly Warren was there, sporting a cut across his forehead, but he'd never looked more like an angel.
"Did you get your dad?" Rogue asked.
Warren smiled wearily, nodding. "I came back to see if you guys needed help getting back to the jet."
"Hate to break it to you, man," Bobby groaned. "But the X-jet is a pile of dust right now."
"Not the Blackbird II," Rogue spoke up.
"The Blackbird II?"
Ororo appeared through the crowd, with Mr. McCoy and Peter at her heels, a bald kid in hospital scrubs following them dutifully. "Did you say the other jet was here?" Ororo demanded.
"I had to get here somehow," Rogue defended herself. "And don't worry, Warren flew not me-"
A furious roar shook the air, and Ororo's face went pale. Slowly, Rogue turned around and felt her blood run cold as she watched the ocean rising up around the island behind them, like a curtain suspended in midair, threatening to come crashing down on the bridge and wash them all away.
"Logan," she whispered.
"I think we need to move," Mr. McCoy said softly. "Quickly."
"Where's the jet?" Ororo asked tersely, looking from Rogue to Warren.
"Not far," Warren replied, since Rogue's attention was riveted on the veil of water concealing the island from view. "We can get there faster if we fly. I can carry someone." He glanced at the bald kid, who was hanging back about ten feet or so. "Maybe the kid, too."
"Uh, that might be difficult," Kitty cleared her throat. "Dorian's powers turn off other mutant powers within five feet, that's why he's trying not to get too close."
"Shit," Bobby muttered.
Wordlessly, Rogue turned and walked over to the bald kid, smiling at him kindly. "Hi, sweetheart," she said. "I'm really, really sorry about this and hope you won't be too pissed at me later."
With that, she hit him lightly over the head, and he crumpled to the ground.
"Rogue!"
Both Ororo and Kitty rushed over to the kid's limp body, staring at her in disbelief.
"Bitch at me later," she snapped. "Right now we have to move."
Peter picked up the unconscious kid, and Rogue winced, hoping he wouldn't have too bad of a concussion when he woke up. Warren offered his arm to Kitty, and Rogue moved to Bobby's side, smirking at his uncomfortable expression.
"Don't be a baby," she scolded him, and promptly scooped him up in her arms, carefully tucking John's limp form under one arm to make sure she didn't drop him.
Bobby yelped as she took off into the air, and tried to cover it with a nervous laugh.
They met up with the rest of the X-men at the Blackbird II and Ororo quickly ushered Peter inside so they could put Dorian onto a medical bunk. Bobby carried John inside, presumably to deposit him on the other bunk, and as soon as he disappeared Rogue took off into the air again, ignoring Kitty when the other girl called out her name.
As Rogue flew back toward Alcatraz Island, she saw that the curtain of water had fallen away, back into the ocean where it belonged.
The fires were still burning, and in the middle of the smoke she found Logan.
Her breath caught in her throat as she descended to his side.
Jean Grey's lifeless body was cradled in his arms as he wept, uncontrollably and with savage grief, his entire body shaking as he was racked with sobs. Rogue didn't move, taking in the heart-wrenching scene before her, Logan's sobs echoing in her ears as she stared at the pale face of the woman who had been both teacher and friend, who'd spent countless hours trying to use her telepathy to help her find a way to turn off her powers.
The woman who had died for them all at Alkali Lake.
How cruel for her to have to die twice, for them to have to grieve her all over again.
For Logan to have had her back so briefly, only to lose her once more.
It would have been better for Jean to stay dead.
At least then Scott and the Professor would still be alive. Magneto's army would never had gotten as far as it had without Jean's presence. Logan would not be a broken man all over again, when he'd just been starting to heal at long last.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair that Jean had to die and that Logan had to be the one to end her life, that the Professor wasn't immortal, that they were all, in the end, just human.
But life wasn't fair.
It never was.
Tears began to slip past her eyelashes, searing their way down her cheeks, and Rogue stepped forward, laying a hand on Logan's shoulder. She wanted to comfort him, but she knew there were no words that could ever be enough.
And so she just kneeled down with him, wrapping her arms around him, around Jean, and wept.