Without clearance, the Wolverine ran off, senses alert to his mate, picking up her scent. The X-Men leader swore under his breath and chased after him, telling the others to keep close, his annoyance alleviated knowing that Wolverine’s impulsive action confirmed that Anna was nearby. Wolverine stopped in his tracks, sniffing, and Cyclops stilled himself, lifting his right fist up to instruct the rest of his team to follow suit.
Suddenly, flames exploded across the front lawn of the home.
The X-Men jumped back and Storm flew into the air, dark clouds swirling above her to summon forth rain to combat the large fire that had surrounded the home in a protective ring. Pyro laughed from where he was standing on the roof and raised the height of the fire to his level when Beast attempted to leap over it.
“Now, now Doc. It's invitation only to this welcome home party,” St. John admonished, stretching out his fingers to make the flames flare upwards towards Storm to offset her efforts to extinguish his inferno. Wolverine roared and leapt into the air with claws extended, his flesh singing from the fire as he pushed through it, ignoring the searing pain as the powerful lunge catapulted him onto the roof.
“I hate party-crashers,” he heard a woman’s voice announce from the left of him, just before multiple fists landed powerful blows to his body in quick succession. “This is a private, family affair.”
Each word was accentuated with additional punches to his gut and ribs, ending with an uppercut that sent him back to the ground below. Spiral grinned and jumped down, clearly enjoying the opportunity to engage in battle with the Wolverine. “But we can have our own party, big boy,” she suggested, fisting all six of her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet in front of him.
Cyclops and Jubilee *bamfed* onto the front lawn past the fence of fire with the assistance of Nightcrawler before the blue demon transported himself to where Pyro was standing, taking the younger man by surprise.
“It seems my mother failed to invite me to the festivities,” the blue colored demon stated with a shrug. He grabbed his former student’s head and pulled it down as he brought his right knee up to connect with the fire wielding mutant’s face, rendering him unconscious from the vicious blow. With the fire gone, Beast and Colossus joined their team mates in front of the house, Storm landing beside them.
“Show yourself, Mystique!” Cyclops demanded. He placed a hand on the side of his ruby quartz visor, eyes intent on the front door of the small home, the X-Men crouching into fighting stances beside him. The dark-haired woman who was at the Committee hearing appeared at an upstairs window, opening it and smiling as she leaned out, resting her elbows on the window sill as though finding super-heroes on her front lawn were an everyday occurrence.
“Why, it’s the X-Men! What a pleasant surprise,” she exclaimed to the group below when they stepped back to put her into view. “To what do I owe this honor?”
From the left of them, Wolverine launched himself at Spiral with a guttural roar, his claws slicing through air when the multi-armed blonde teleported away safely to stand outside the window the brunette was now stepping through. Both women stood on the small roof that ran across the top of the porch, looking down at the group of mutants below.
With a growl, Logan stepped forward, his nine inch adamantium claws glinting from the small fires that still burned around them. “Where is she, Mystique?” He would know that maniac’s scent anywhere. His voice was harsh from suppressed virulence, teeth bared. He could smell Marie. She was close.
The woman laughed and morphed into her true form, long black hair giving way to shorter red, yellow pupil-less eyes shining against deep blue skin. “Where is who?” She looked to Spiral beside her and they both shrugged their shoulders in feigned confusion.
“La petite that you stole, femme. Where is she?”
Gambit landed alongside the X-Men, his red eyes flashing dangerously, surprising everyone but Wolverine who had smelled the mutant’s approach from the river nearby. One hand held fully charged cards, the other his staff, his brown leather overcoat swirling behind him. He pushed forward, intending to storm the home but stopped short when the front door suddenly swung forcefully open, instead of in, causing it to rip off its hinges.
“Lookin’ for me, handsome?”
Gambit pulled back as Rogue stepped onto the porch. She was dressed in a black leather cat suit, the thin material clinging to her every curve like second skin, thigh high heeled boots accentuating her long legs. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, cascading down her back in waves, the white streak pulled across her forehead and pulled behind one ear like a hair band. She arched an eyebrow at him, a small smile playing at her lips.
It had been easy for the Guild’s underground network to uncover where Raven Darkholme lived, and its leader had torn up the Mississippi River from New Orleans the moment Professor Xavier had informed him that she was responsible for Rogue’s abduction. Gambit looked at the mutant he had come to rescue, breathless from the sight of her after being starved of it for so long. The years melted away and his heart lurched. Rogue was more beautiful than he remembered.
His scarlet eyes widened when she reached for him, her green eyes taking on a sultry glow. “Y’all look delicious,” she whispered just before she captured his mouth with hers.
Stunned, Wolverine watched as the woman he loved pressed her body against the Guild leader, digging her gloved fingers into his hair to deepen the passionate kiss.
Gambit wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, enthusiastically returning the kiss, thinking he was in heaven, only to realize he was in hell. His eyes shot open, his bare skin riddling with blackened veins as his life energy drained away from him and into her. Rogue broke away and released him, her face full of malice as he fell into a twitching heap at her feet.
She licked her lips.
“Now dat be some good Cajun gumbo, fo' true,” she declared softly, removing her gloves menacingly. Rogue’s eyes blackened, irises burning vermillion as she stepped out onto the porch steps; both hands lit with purple energy.
The X-Men stepped back, shocked, except for Wolverine who stepped towards her. He retracted his claws, eyes fastened on hers. “Marie, it’s me. Logan. We’ve come for you. Everything’s alright now, darlin’.’”
Something was very, very wrong. He saw her crouch down and remove cards from the debilitated man’s overcoat, drawing her arms back with one leg placed behind her for balance.
Rogue’s eyes flared.
She flung all the charged cards in her hands at him with pinpoint accuracy, the tremendous force of the explosions blowing the rest of X-Men back, sending them toppling for cover. The blasts tore into Wolverine, ripping his chest open, the sickening stench and sight of his charred flesh making Jubilee cry out his name in horror.
He collapsed, motionless to the ground.
Mystique and Spiral laughed. Eyes whitening, Storm flew into the air and hurled lightning bolts at the two women, as gusts of winds lashed around them. Storm encompassed Spiral in a funnel cloud, levitating her high into the sky and ruthlessly squeezing the air tight around the multi-armed mutant, sending her idle form smashing through the roof of the home. Mystique screeched in frustration, furious that two of her colleagues were so easily incapacitated, and now her planned mode of escape was closed to her.
“Rogue is one of us!” Mystique shouted, leaping away from the weather controlling mutant’s attack while simultaneously evading the clusters of blinding lights that Jubilee threw in her direction. Mystique managed to side-step Jubilee, drop kicking the smaller woman, and slamming the bottom of her palm hard in an upwards strike under the younger X-Man’s chin. Jubilee stumbled, wiping away some blood from the side of her mouth, grinning.
Jubilee always preferred hand to hand combat, anyway.
Rogue turned her attention to the X-Men leader, whipping charged card after charged card at him, hair blowing about her face, reflecting her malevolence. Cyclops blocked each of her attacks with precision shots of his optic blasts, careful to not harm her.
“Stop it, Anna!” He jumped back as she bore down on him, her onslaught deadlier with each step she took. “Why are you attacking us?”
Rogue continued to advance on him, incensed. “My name is Rogue! And y’all are the ones attackin’ my home, my family!” she screamed before throwing a volley of charged cards that encircled him. Nightcrawler grabbed Cyclops and teleported him away before the slips of paper set off in a powerful explosion, blowing a crater into the ground.
Rogue spun on her heel and back-flipped away from Colossus’s attempt to grab her. “Stop this, Rogue,” the steel skinned giant implored to her. “We are here to rescue you!” The Russian backed her into Beast who caught her, trying to determine what could have gotten into his young friend as she struggled in his arms, his fur protecting him from her bare hands.
“Anna, you must desist!”
She grabbed his tele-link and charged it. “Momma was the one who rescued me, and now y’all want to take me away! Ah won’t let you!” Beast was forced to use one arm to tear away the communication device from his ear before it exploded and she took advantage, swinging her arm back to slam her elbow against the side of his head, making him release her.
Nightcrawler and Cyclops reappeared by Gambit’s side. The teleporter checked the Cajun’s pulse and shook his head, worry etched on his face. “Ve have got to get this poor fellow to a sick bay, Cyclops.”
Cyclops nodded tersely in agreement and Nightcrawler teleported Gambit to the interior of the Blackbird, quickly returning to retrieve Beast. Once in the jet, the doctor immediately began to administer emergency care, hooking the critically injured mutant with oxygen. He inserted several intravenous needles into the unconscious man to begin pumping steroids in an attempt to rip open Gambit’s shrunken veins, gravely telling Cyclops via Nightcrawler’s tele-link, “We’ve got to get Gambit back to New York right away. It’s not good.”
Seeing Mystique surrounded by the remaining powerful mutants, Rogue sprinted towards her, her entire body lighting up in an ominous purplish hue, her hands holding all the remaining cards in her possession. The building strength of the charge lit up everything around them.
Jubilee yelled, “Don’t do it, Rogue!” Her own hands lit in lights, and she turned to Cyclops for direction, terrified. Cyclops placed his hand on the side of his visor. He had no choice. He needed to strike Rogue down.
Suddenly a powerful roar could be heard and Rogue fell hard to the ground, side tackled by a recovered Wolverine.
“Sorry, darlin’,” was all Rogue heard before a fist crashed across her jaw. The charge around her body dissipated at the contact and she dropped to ground, limp. Breathing hard, Wolverine pulled her into his arms, frowning at the ugly bruise that was already forming on her face. His head snapped up, hearing the sounds of helicopters in the distance.
“S.H.I.E.L.D.’s contacting us,” Nightcrawler informed them through tele-link, as he powered up the Blackbird. “They want Rogue.”
Wolverine growled. He lifted Rogue protectively in his arms and began to run towards the jet, the rest of the X-Men close behind him.
“We’re leaving Mystique and the Brotherhood to Colonel Fury and his team,” Cyclops informed the German. “Rogue’s coming with us.”
Blindspot was angry.
Watching the X-Men’s jet rise into the air, she waited until it blasted away before quickly touching Spiral and Pyro and sprinting to the nearby Mississippi River. She wasn’t surprised to find Mystique waiting for her in the speedboat Gambit had used to race up from the Louisiana basin.
An elegant eyebrow arched at her. “You appear displeased, child.”
Blindspot glared at her. “I needed more time. I was forced to wake her up to help you. You said you had everything under control.”
“I underestimated the X-Men’s resourcefulness,” Mystique responded with an edge in her voice, thinking of the Guild leader. She started the engine. “Did you remove Spiral’s and Pyro’s memories of our little escapade?”
“Yes.”
“Do they have any memory of Daken?”
The younger woman’s face darkened. “None at all.”
“Good.” Mystique morphed into the form of an old man, and threw a blanket for Blindspot to hide under, pulling away slowly from the dock as helicopters flew in the air over them to land at their now abandoned former home.
Melanie closed her eyes, her entire body shaking.
Oh, Anna Marie. What have I done?