It all started on October 10th, 2003, at half past seven o'clock in the morning. Before White Queen ever stepped inside the mansion, before Charles Xavier cried for the second time in his life, before good girl Rogue started to smoke, a small abscess appeared between the shoulder-blades of one of the youngest inhabitants of the mansion, Jubilee. It throbbed a bit, so she asked Jean to take a look. Ms Grey cleaned the wound and gave her some ointment to prevent the inflammation.
The next morning a little firework-girl woke up in the middle of the night... Actually, it was morning, but wounds, that blossomed like a flowers of death on her honey skin, expanded all over her body, getting bigger, closing her eyes forever. Kitty woke up moments later and started screaming hysterically...
At the moment, when the first victim of so-called Legacy Virus, was living her last minutes in the laboratory, Rogue found it. Xavier's mansion was designed and built so there was no superfluous thing on the wall, or on the floor. Like a hive, everything had its exact place and was never moving around. But at the second floor, trying to escape from agonized rattles of her first friend here, she found a room, maybe intended for unexpected guests, and maybe forgotten after another dangerous mission, small room, with three walls, covered with nice pictures -- from Ororo's drawing collection probably, and one clean and absolutely white wall. Rogue was standing there for a long moments in a kind of meditation, or maybe it was her own kind of telepathy, a young woman, already completely biologically formed (thanks to Logan and their regular sex), and then, not knowing yet, what exactly she is doing, the took a lipstick from her pocket and wrote across the white surface:
JUBILEE DIED OCTOBER 11TH.
When she left the room, her impulsive remark became a reality. A child of 14, being so lonely for a long time and treasuring so much love to her new home and its inhabitants, was gone.
Professor closed the doors to the laboratory, sending away even Jean, his constant assistant, then spent almost five hours in a row in Cerebro, so he probably missed out Emma Frost's appearance. Rogue was sitting with Ororo and Jean in the living room in dead silence, staring without any reaction at the TV screen, where J-Lo was shaking her silicone hips so happily, when the doors slammed open. For Rogue, who have never seen that woman before, there was nothing wrong in her. Jean and Storm, on contrary, froze for a moment.
White Queen wasn't white, first of all. She was dressed in the black sweater and pants, covering her diamond skin completely. She was the first person, running here for help.
"Where is this bold prick?" she asked, her voice harsh and deadly calm -- nothing common with the playful tone of the mutant sex bomb number one.
Before she continued, Rogue suddenly saw the white wall in the hidden room, like a symbol of something horrible coming.
"Lorna is dead," Emma continued, not bothering to put her suitcase down. "Hank is either. And you know what?"
Then Rogue screamed, because White Queen put her sweater up, demonstrating her perfect stomach, covered with the same wounds, that were covering the pretty and too young face of Jubilee, when she saw her for the last time, calm forever, in the coffin, three hours ago.
"This motherfucker will give me the answer," Emma reported, before destroying the iron laboratory doors with her diamond fist.
"... people here mostly think, that in Russia it is always snowing, and streets are full of communists and bears..." Piotr continued. "Such a bullshit. They have democracy for 13 years there, and hot summers, and autumn rains..."
"You miss your Motherland, don't you?" Siren asked, getting closer to her iron hero, who have saved her not long go from the angry people in scary masks.
Piotr didn't answer.
"I still think in Russian," he said. "Even sing. This new Butch song "Vse ravno ya vstanu", it touched me. You know, what that means? 'I will get up anyway.' Reminds of our life, don't you think?"
He closed his eyes and whispered so quiet, so she wasn't sure, whether he was whispering or singing, or both: "Vse ravno ya vstanu, ee tochno znayu, budu beet', vse ravno ya vstanu, mozhno tolko stoya byt'..." he looked at the girl, who was sucking in every word, trying to understand.
"I will get up anyway, and I know for sure, I will fight, I will get up anyway -- only standing on your feet it is possible to exist..." he translated automatically, because Russian phrases and words never left him as he spoke.
"You can go there whenever you want, Piotr... Petya. This is the way your momma called you, right?" Siren said, before run away from boys' bedroom, so proud, that she has adult conversations with the real men, being so small.
Colossus watched her go, and then turned the lights off. Something was telling him, he will never see Moskva... Moscow again. That something was a small throbbing wound on his elbow, the first, but not the last.
COLOSSUS DIED OCTOBER 12TH.
SIREN DIED OCTOBER 12TH.
Logan was holding her in his arms, never letting go, trying to calm her down and make her sleep. Maybe, in sleep it won't be so scary to go there, somewhere over the rainbow. Teresa lost her vocal chords, because inside they were covered with the flowers of death, as well as her scalp under the shining citrus hair. Rogue watched him as her brain was repeating the quote from the Hollywood trailer: "Cradle 2 the grave, cradle 2 the grave" in attempt to protect itself from the pain. Then Logan stopped and pressed his lips over the girl's temple, such a tender gesture...
"She is gone," he reported, although she already knew.
ICEMAN DIED OCTOBER 12TH.
She cried, writing it. Ororo and she tried to open the door to Bobby and John's bedroom, but after couple of minutes and ten broken nails, they called Logan, who won the fight between himself and the door, which was covered with thick layer of ice from inside. Bobby, the nicest guy at school (Rogue didn't doubt, that he would be a perfect son-in-law for her parents... If only he was normal, of course), was sitting in the chair near the window, his pale skin covered with hoarfrost, which anyway couldn't hide dark spots from their eyes... Somewhere over the rainbow Bobby Drake, THE DANGEROUS MUTANT with the eyes of a poet, so distant and clean, yet warm and friendly, met his friends, gone before him.
She cried, because they were coevals, and only after seeing her reflection in his frozen eyes, she really felt the breathing of death on her skin.
On October 13th Professor finally spoke. By that time, Elizabeth Braddock, who came late night, reporting about deceased Archangel, was sleeping in Piotr's bed. Situation was too serious -- he gathered all, even the youngest members of their hidden society, in the office, which already stated clearly, that there is no hope.
"They call it "Legacy Virus". General Stryker created it as plan B -- if he couldn't subordinate us to his personal will, he would simply destroy us, that is what he is doing now. His closest assistant, Richard Walace, decided to use plan B. He uses the special protection, so no matter how hard I tried, I can't find him. Me and Jean tried to find an antidote, but since mutation is not the kind of illness, we can't fight all factors with medicines. Actually, we managed to create a drug, which can slow the process down, but that's all, I'm afraid. Just before Mr. Walace started to protect himself from my influence, I found out some facts about the virus. It is one single molecule, that was set free from the vacuum and can expand very fast with the air, infecting every human with the mutation inside. This means, that by October 20th all mutants, mighty and almost normal, adult and just born, will be dead. Since the decaying period of the molecule is 10 years, for the next ten years the dream of Senator Kelly will come true -- the world will be clean from us."
Rogue took the first cigar from her lover's pocket in moments after this terrible confession. Smoking for the first time in her life, she didn't even cough, she had more important thing to do.
KITTY DIED OCTOBER 13TH.
When the breath of Shadowcat stopped, she fell down to the ground, going through the dirt and yellow leaves, being buried in the most natural way it was possible. Logan's scent found her, but he never told a soul, except his own heart, named Rogue, deciding, it would be better. Kitty Pryde was gone mysteriously, the way, she always used to appear from the wall, never using her gift for stealing and other negative things. She used to be called the honesty of X-Men, and could become the great part of the team one day... She could, really.
Rogue left the blank space near OCTOBER 14TH, since that day the children's laughter left the mansion forever. Ororo was crying, leaning against the wall -- silence was killing her, silence, not the deadly wounds. The children were her heart and soul, with them being taken from her chest, she couldn't exist. The Goddess passed away soon after. She was sitting in the garden, looking up at the dark raining cloud. "You understand me, don't you?" she whispered, swallowing her tears. The cloud did, being the only whiteness...
STORM DIED OCTOBER 15TH.
Nobody already really cared, that she was smoking that much. She woke up in the night, seeing two red lights in the front of her. Logan jumped from the bed, trying to protect her from unknown enemy, who wasn't enemy really -- just Gambit, the professional thief, who always preferred windows instead of doors.
He walked past Logan's dangerous claws, resting his forehead against the wall. Police of 9 countries was searching his ass all over the world, because in his life he didn't take only those things, that were fixed with nails.
"Home," he whispered, swallowing bitter tears.
A day ago Sarah, who could make miracles with her bones, left him. He ordered the gravestone with the single word "Marrow" on it, and then went to the place, where his rebellious soul could find peace.
GAMBIT DIED OCTOBER 16TH.
And she didn't have a time to ask him about his real name. "It was French," Emma Frost said, glaring angrily at her. Did it matter?
KURT DIED OCTOBER 16TH.
He exploded, actually, leaving just a cloud of blue air in the living room, which flew away with the fresh air. He dreamed to show Storm the Creator, so, probably, he rushed to save her soul.
Mutants continued to die every day, each moment. In the evening the lonely inhabitants of the mansion gathered in Cerebro, ignoring all the rules, where Professor showed them red figures, mutants, one hundred and fourteen instead of tens of thousands. If Stryker was alive these days, he would become the happiest man on the planet.
Jean came in their bedroom and slowly sat near Scott. She took his hand in her cold ones and whispered:
"I always loved you. Never doubt that."
She kissed him quickly, resting her head on his strong shoulder.
"Jean, what..?"
She smiled and whispered:
"Five... four... three... two... one..."
In the next moment she was gone... Fearless Leader didn't tell a soul until morning, holding her body close to his all night and hoping, his warmth will bring her to life, even though the first decaying flower blossomed on his arm, from shoulder to the wrist, on Ororo's funeral.
In the morning for the first (and last) time in her life Jean Grey was in hysteria. Suddenly, with the rage of injured and cornered lioness, she throw all the drugs, slowing down the process of dying, in the washstand.
"What are you doing, bitch?!!" Emma Frost screamed, trying to stop her with her weakened hands, but it was already too late.
"What's the sense?!!" Jean screamed, really screamed back, slapping barely alive seductress across the face. "You want the torture to last? I can't live like this anymore. Our fate is already written down somewhere, I'm just following it!"
JEAN DIED OCTOBER 16TH.
"God," Rogue thought, sitting on the floor in the hidden room, "Don't let anybody else die today. I swear, I'm gonna lose my mind..." The list on the wall was already so long, that she had to stand on her knees to write. Who's gonna write her name?
Two floors higher Betsy Braddock was in bed, trying to get some sleep, although even counting sheep wasn't working. What sheep, for Christ's sake, if all her world fell apart in couple of days. She always was considered and considered herself as a strong, unbreakable personality, being born this way, plus the spirit of Revanche was still living inside her. Kwannon, the first ever victim of the experiments with Legacy Virus, gave all her power to the girl she barely knew, hoping, being sure maybe, that her story wouldn't repeat itself. Women have a right to be wrong...
She put her palms together, slowly bringing them apart and looking at the red shiny blade, appearing between them. She took the sword, smiling gloomy, and touched her wrist with its edge, pressing hard. Nothing happened. Generated by her own internal energy weapon couldn't hurt her.
She roared and threw the sword away.
"Useless piece of shit!" she mumbled, turning her face away.
Professor had told her, that her power was great, mighty... And what now could she do? Watch this shining blade, that couldn't help her or listen to hysterical thoughts of Emma?
"Lies, all is shameless lies," she whispered, taking the paper knife she stole from the Professor's office.
Rogue wasn't the only person in the house, who used walls for writings. "I'm weak," she read on the wall in Betsy's room next morning, when Psylocke didn't came for breakfast. Psylocke's power was in her weakness, when, calmly, like an ancient samurai during some ritual, the made one exact cut on her wrist. Her sword was laying on the floor, looking like an old relic from the museum, covered with rust, and not glowing anymore. The red light disappeared right in the moment, when its owner' s heart stopped.
PSYLOCKE DIED OCTOBER 17TH.
"Logan, do something! Stop him saying things like that! Scott!" Rogue breathed out, looking at the window, like she was going to jump out of it.
"Just listen, child. Learn to take the truth as it is." Professor's words rang inside her head.
Charles Xavier was laying in his bed. After Psylocke was buried, he didn't leave his room. Here they were, standing in a front of him, the last representatives of mutant race, his last children. Before disappearing in his bedroom, he was in Cerebro for the last time, already knowing, what his true machine was going to tell him. Six mutants all over the world.
"Yeah, bitch, let the old moron talk," Emma muttered from her corner.
Logan growled, placing his hands over Rogue shoulders. Emma raised her brow.
"Really? What are you waiting for, Hamster?" she stood up, barely controlling her own shaking legs and stepped closer.
"Emma, sit," Cyclops' lips said without a sound.
She ignored him, approaching Canadian and ripping her sweater open, exposing decaying flesh, where the bones of her ribcage were already visible.
"Come on, Squirrel, don't be shy. Help yourself..."
"Emma, sit." It was Professor's voice, and the force of habit made her sit down finally. "I wanted to say I'm sorry to you all," he continued with the strange, tear-filled voice. "I could stop this if I only caught the moment of its beginning. No matter what we could then find them and maybe, paying the price with our lives, we could stop this. But I was too relaxed after our another victory, I was blinded, I never thought we can be in danger soon. And even before... I was the man, who gathered you here, who was crazy with the idea of our unity with humanity. Maybe, living normal lives, mutants were not in danger, maybe it was our destiny to hide. Maybe Eric was right... Maybe he was... If you ever forgive me..."
Cyclops pressed his forehead to the forehead of his teacher.
"Don't blame yourself, Professor. All you wanted was the better destiny. Whatever happened, it was worst a try."
"Yes," Emma suddenly said. "It was."
"It was," Logan repeated.
"It was," Rogue echoed.
"Was it?" Charles was unable to fight his tears.
The shadows of the people, standing in the front of him, made him happy, not really happy, just feeling he had done something useful in his life, not living it in fear, hiding. Wasn't it enough to die calm?
PROFESSOR X DIED OCTOBER 17TH
She was moving, touching the wall with her arm, to keep the balance. She was dressed in her favorite white outfit, exposing her body almost everywhere. Ignoring Logan and Rogue she moved to Cyclops, undoing her bra.
"Scott, let's fuck," Emma Frost simply said. "Remember all these jokes about the Armageddon?".
"Leave me alone," he whispered, looking through her freaked body.
"Oh, come on." She tried to straddle his knee. "I know, you want it. Forget about Jean, she is dead, and we will be tomorrow, so..."
"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"
Scott Summers was screaming? Scott Summers was screaming at a woman? Scott Summers pushed her away with all the power he had left, so she flew to another wall, slamming against it hard, falling down? What in the world is going on?
She was silent for a moment, and then Rogue and others heard the scary hoarse sound, that used to be her ringing laughter once. "Dead man walking..." she sang through the loud breaths. "Dead man walking..."
WHITE QUEEN DIED OCTOBER 18TH.
They met in the bathroom, and the first thing she noticed, she couldn't see his visor. He used to put it in the counter while washing his face, but now...
"Scott, are you okay?" she asked.
He turned his face to her, and she thought for a moment, he is going to blow her head off. She closed her eyes in panic, bit nothing happened. Scott's eyes were empty, just empty.
"Bang!" he smiled, and walked away.
CYCLOPS DIED OCTOBER 18TH.
The mansion became even bigger now, filled with the sounds of echo, with shadows of the past, with the smell of death. Rogue found the box, filled with the keys, in Professor's office, and spent the rest of the day closing all the doors except their with Logan bedroom and kitchen, and her secret room. Passing the doors, she whispered: "Good bye, Jean, I'm so sorry," "Good Bye, Piotr, I'm sorry," "Good bye, Kitty..."
It was already four o'clock in the morning, but they still couldn't sleep. Logan was sitting on his bed, holding her against his hard chest, breathing the narcotic smell of her hair... He was dying, and the healing factor as the main part of his mutation was the main thing killing him. How ironic... Sharing their last hours together he was thinking about life over the rainbow without his own heart and soul, named Rogue. He thought about the dark eyes of loneliness, that was already watching her -- she just didn't see them, being with him.
"How big is love, Marie?" he asked quietly in the bloody rays of sunrise.
"Bigger than universe, I guess," she answered.
"Than multiply the universe on 1000, because that's how big is my love for you."
She turned to face him.
"Don't say so. You scare me..."
He didn't give her to finish, pressing his lips against her hard. She was fighting, trying to rip apart their deadly connection, because she didn't need the sacrifice like this. She didn't need another two days of waiting with his power inside her. But he was stronger. Their lips unlocked only when he was dead.
Marie D'Ancanto screamed, and her voice was heard everywhere in the mansion.
LOGAN OCTOBER 19TH.
She left the blank space, and she approached the wall for five times, trying to write the horrible word, but she was too weak for that. Too weak.
On October 20th the heavy doors opened, when she was sleeping, tired from crying and wandering from door to door. Couple of hours ago she looked in the mirror to check her first flower of death on the right breast, but didn't find it. It was senseless -- she knew, another two days, and virus will destroy the remnants of Logan's impregnability and start to eat her again. She broke the mirror with the scream. It was unfair! She wanted to die, holding his hand, listening to his words, and now she was all alone...
She was making coffee in the kitchen, taking another cigar from her pocket, already picking the lighter, when the cigar lighted itself. She would be surprised and maybe a bit shocked ten days ago, but now she just turned around, breathing in the bitter smoke, to see John Allerdyce himself, sitting on the window sill with the red scarf hiding the lower part of his face.
"Look at you," he said, "So pretty, that I'm even uncomfortable with that..." he slowly took the fabric away from his face to show a big bleeding wound, covering his jaw and lips.
"Coffee?" Rogue asked tiredly, without being surprised.
"Would be nice... "
"So what about world domination, John?" she asked with irony, giving him the steamy beverage and siting on the counter with her cup.
"Fuck the world domination. They won. We lost. Is it over here?"
"Yes. I'm the last X-Men," she smiled bitterly.
"Still want to save them? So since I'm the last bad guy, maybe just start the fight and destroy each other?"
"I want nothing, bub," she slowly raised her arm and let the claws shine in the happy sun of the morning.
"How was it?"
"It was hell. Each day new graves... It's not your business, anyway".
"Yes. Not mine, not yours. Raven died the day before yesterday..."
"Who?" She hid Logan's claws in her flesh.
"Mystique. She was a nice woman... in her own way. I cried."
"We all were nice in our own way. Just a pity, that this fact won't be written with golden letters in the book of history... And what about Magneto?"
"He left... Like an old wolf, he preferred to die alone without us seeing him weakening day after day. Such a proud bastard... Don't you think that I came here, searching for forgiveness?"
"Nah. I know you good enough. You just didn't want to die alone. So I am at your service, Mr. Allerdyce..."
For the first time during their conversation their eyes met. Maybe, this way two sabretooth cats were looking at each other millions years ago, when ice age destroyed almost everything on the planet.
"Thank you," he said, touching her knee.
She took a shovel and buried his ashes (fire set itself free from the weak master's control and burned his body) near Logan.
PYRO DIED OCTOBER 20TH
Maybe it was a sign from above, that there wasn't place for her name on the wall -- she didn't notice it anyway. She lighted her last cigar, facing the wall of pain in her secret room.
"Where are you?!" she screamed. "Come and take me finally!! Come and take me!!!" she fell on the floor, hurting her knees bad, and covered her face with her palms.
The sun outside the dead mansion continued to shine. People continued to rush somewhere, not knowing, that somewhere very close the Judgement Day had come. It wasn't their Judgement Day, so it's natural, that they didn't care...
Rogue opened her eyes and froze. Her list of the Legacy Virus victims get paler, almost invisible, because the new writings has appeared, written with Professor's hand.
"You are the last hope of people like us you don't have to look for him he will come to you can't save us, but you still can help the next generation stop the virus Charles Xavier"
"Professor?!" she called, turning around.
The room was empty, of course. When she look at the wall again, the message was gone. She decided, it was virus, sending hallucination to her brain. She was dying, like the others... Was she? Her head suddenly became filled with the information. She was saved by Logan, now her body is healthy, because their powers combined, and she has approximately three days, before the wall of resistance will fall and she get infected again. She has to stop the virus, and the man, who created it with Stryker, knows exactly, how to do it.
"Why me?" she whispered.
"Because your gift is special, you can live with lives of the others." Professor's voice said.
They came a couple of hours later, in the twilight, the way they had come here three months ago, in darkness. She was sitting on the stairs, breathing loudly, and waiting them to find here. Walace, the main assistant of Stryker, touched her leg with his heavy boot.
"It's disgusting. Finish her," he ordered.
Rogue's lips moved slightly, when the black eye of the gun met her green gaze.
"What?"
"Come closer, Mr. Walace, I need to tell you something," she repeated a bit louder, hiding her left arm with shiny claws behind her...
EPILOGUE.
Five years later a woman with two white strands in her hair entered the office of the doctor Neil, the children's psychologist, who was waiting for her in a company of a lawyer.
"It's strange, Ms. D'Ancanto, that you still want to adopt this child."
"I'm a widow. I need a company."
"His parents left him there, claiming he was a devil. For me, the boy has autism, so I will be very surprised, if he ever speak... But anyway, the choice is yours. Do you have a place to live in?"
Rogue smiled.
"I have a nice big mansion, that my teacher left me."
"Okay. Since the papers are in order, bring the boy here."
They left the hospital twenty minutes later, and right after the main gate disappeared in labyrinth of streets, the boy asked:
"Who are you?"
"Can't you read my mind?"
"Rogue. Nobody wanted me. Why did you take me?"
"Read." She touched her temple with her finger.
"Because you are like me. Like who?"
"You'll find out later. We will go to your new home, where a couple of friends are waiting for you. They are a bit younger, than you, but I'm sure, you'll be fine with them. Plus, I have a magical machine for you, called Cerebro..."
"You are very lonely," he interrupted.
The dark glasses hid her shiny from tears eyes. She opened glove compartment and handed him a pack of cookies.
"I am not already...Charles. I am not already..."
THE END.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Story Notes:
Post-X2 with many comics characters, though. It is sad, people, and a bit scary. I mean it -- I was crying writing it (and I usually don't cry during the writing process) so if you are in bad mood, don't read.