-A/N-: The eighteenth chapter.

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“Hey, Bobby? Have you seen the news this morning?”

Bobby looked up briefly from his glossy-paged magazine towards the doorway of his room where Kitty Pryde stood, looking anxious and more than just a little uneasy.

“Kitty. Hey.” Bobby shut the magazine deftly after dog-earring a page that illustrated a picture of a snowboarder. “Uhh, no actually. What’s up? Did something bad happen?” he asked.

Kitty was looking alarmed now and she shook her head quickly. “It’s worse than just ‘bad’, Bobby. I think you better come see,” she said gravely and her eyes flickered to the other mutant in the room, who had looked up from his own reading material at the sound of the apprehension in her voice. “You too, Piotr. You guys need to see this. It’s awful.”

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Meanwhile…

“So, um, you two were… pretty close, I take it.” Rogue’s voice sounded sleepy even to her own ears. “You and Mystique I mean,” she mumbled, shifting her body to make herself more comfortable but at the same time taking care not to get too close to the boy lying beside her.

It’s been two days since the revelation of the rebellious ‘Risty Wilde’s’ actual identity and now, Mystique was walking around in her true form—well, her human form anyway—instead of in the body of a seventeen-year-old teenager.

Fortunately, almost everyone so far has been accepting of her presence in the mansion. Even Logan was warming up to her, albeit just a little slower than the rest. It wasn’t hard to say that he was deliberately exuding his stubborn charm just to spite the woman. Two days now and at least he’s managed to be able to remain in the same room with her without so much as shooting her a death glare every few seconds. And that’s a huge improvement for someone like Logan.

At the moment, Rogue and John were both in Rogue’s room—a place that they’ve promised to frequent just to talk about things ranging from everything to nothing. That day, they weren’t quite so sure what happened, but the two of them found themselves sprawled on their backs, atop Rogue’s tiny bed, staring at the ceiling. There wasn’t much space for movement, but they liked it that way.

“We were close enough,” John murmured, answering Rogue’s question. “But I guess you should already have known that.”

Of course.

“Mmm…” Rogue was deep in thought for a few moments. In such a short time, she’d found out everything… everything about what both Mystique and John had believed in when fighting on the side that no one in Xavier’s institute thought was ethical. There was a difference, of course. Raven Darkholme had been wholly willing to dedicate herself to the cause. To John Allerdyce, it was more to do with his freedom and the use of his powers without the frustration of being restrained. Rogue knew all this. And somehow, she understood. She empathized.

“She was like a mother I never had,” John continued, “I mean, she would have made a better mom, anyway.” His voice was distant, but Rogue could sense a hardness in that voice.

Rogue turned on her side to look at John. He was still staring up at the ceiling, as though trying to avoid her eye.

“Your parents-”

“They threw me out,” he replied, cutting Rogue off. “Threw me out because they were scared,” he gave a short laugh, “Their poor son, St. John Allerdyce, was not a saint. They thought I was possessed, using demonic powers to control fire. They believed I was… different. Inhuman. Or some shit like that anyway.”

“You’re not,” Rogue said quietly, “it was evolution. We’re not different. We’re special.” She didn’t know why she was saying that. She’d never thought of herself as special. She’d never thought of her powers as special. Just a nuisance. A curse.

“I know,” John replied, “We’re superior. We’re better than all of them. Those bloody homo sapiens know nothing about mutants.”

Rogue was silent. There was nothing she could say to that. She didn’t know what to say.

“Sorry,” John apologised when he noticed her silence, “Shouldn’t be saying that. Xavier might decide to throw me out too.”

“He won’t,” Rogue assured him. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

John glanced at her and grinned. “You’ll defend me? That’s real nice of you, Rogue. Does that mean I get to set things on fire and not get expelled? Like, Logan’s hair for example?”

Rogue just rolled her eyes with a small smile of her own and playfully punched him in the arm.

“Ow!” John exclaimed, backing away, “Rogue! That’s gonna’ bruise. I swear.”

Rogue snorted. “No, it’s not!”

“It so is!” John complained, rubbing his ‘sore’ arm.

“No way.”

“It will,” John said, confidently. “But,” he said, with a smirk, “I’m sure you can make it all better if you kissed it.”

“Kissed…?” Rogue frowned for a moment in confusion. And then her eyes widened in realisation. “I am so sure it’ll be much worse if I even touched it,” she said.

John sighed, sitting up and ruffling his hair. “I know, I know. You can kill me with your touch. But you know what?” he said, watching as Rogue herself sat up on the bed, “It kills me each and every time I am reminded that I can’t touch you.”

Rogue looked down mutely at her gloved hands and then she replied in a whisper, “It kills me too, John. It really does.”

And it did. Rogue couldn’t lie to herself. Sometimes, it frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t touch anyone. It angered her. And sometimes, just sometimes, she wished that the Cure had been permanent. Just so she could have at least a single intimate moment with John. That would be enough for her.

“Yeah, uh…” John was talking again. “Bobby told me something.” Pause. “Something about your powers acting up and-”

But before John could say anything more, the door to the room was flung open and Jubilee stepped in. Both John and Rogue were startled at this sudden intrusion and were almost ready to reprimand the teenage mutant. But something on the girl’s face melted away all traces of irritation.

“Guys,” the jet black-haired girl said solemnly, looking almost on the verge of tears, “S-something’s happened. You… you two should come and see this… it’s all on the news.”

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“What’s going on?” Rogue wondered aloud as she, John and Jubilee entered the living room.

The crowd within the small, enclosed room was amazing, and there was something not quite right with the atmosphere in the room. It was heavy with something… Something that Rogue couldn’t quite figure.

She spotted Storm, Kitty and Warren—wings drawn tight to his body—in deep conversation in a far corner of the room, partially obscured by other people. And something was not quite right with this picture. Jubilee had gone over to them as soon as saw them. A group of young mutants were gathered, whispering quietly among themselves, in front of the television and the headlines ‘TWO DEATHS RESULT FROM EXTREMIST ATTACKS’ were splashed across the screen.

Oh my god… This can’t be Magneto’s doing…?

Rogue’s mind was racing as she quickly looked up at John. But his eyes were fixed on someone coming their way. Rogue followed his gaze. Bobby was walking up to them and he was carrying the day’s newspapers with him. He looked troubled, upset even. And that scared Rogue.

“Hey,” Bobby said quietly as he neared them, “guess you guys haven’t heard.” He passed John the newspapers, eyes unconsciously flicking towards Rogue.

Something was not right.

Rogue stared at John as he started scanning the article. The silence that followed was thick as both Bobby and Rogue waited for him to finish reading it. John’s expression was unreadable as he went through it. At one stage, he looked up to glance at the spot where Storm and the others stood.

Something was definitely not right.

“What the hell…” John muttered, finally looking up at Bobby and refolding the papers in his hands. “He’s dead. Warren Worthington II has been murdered.”

Rogue tried to suppress a gasp of horror. Warren’s father… is dead? She couldn’t believe it. This had to be a joke. Right? Right? She looked again to where the angelic mutant stood, so isolated and away from the crowd in that corner, and she realised that he was crying. And so was Kitty. And Jubilee.

“He can’t be dead,” Rogue’s voice was only barely above a whisper.

Bobby shook his head sadly, “Happened hours before sun-up this morning. Someone broke into Worthington Labs and stole a sample of the Cure. The man tried to stop him. Was killed instantly by an explosion. They think it was a bomb. And the culprit got away.”

“Who… who did it?” Rogue asked, hesitantly, although she didn’t really want to find out. She didn’t want to be seen as someone who’d directly blame Erik Lensherr for every calamity that cropped up.

“It’s not Magneto,” a womanly voice from behind them interrupted Rogue’s wearisome thoughts, “if that’s who you’re thinking.”

The three of them turned in unison to find Mystique, looking at them amusedly, but Rogue could sense traces of unease behind her calm exterior.

“Raven-”

“Mystique,” the dark-haired woman corrected Bobby haughtily before shooting a glare at John, “tell your friends to refrain from calling me Raven Darkholme please. It annoys me.”

“They call me John. And I don’t mind as much anymore,” John said, shrugging.

“Well, I mind. Anyway, as I was saying, if you want to know who killed Worthington and that other girl, watch the news.” Mystique gestured towards the television screen. “They’re playing the video again.”

Rogue blinked, confused. Other girl? Video? She turned to look at the TV where the news was still being broadcasted.

“Someone turn it up,” John said loudly.

“…registered mutant teenager, Tabitha Smith, was found dead just minutes from Worthington Labs late last night. This was shortly followed by the murder of Warren Worthington the Second after the theft of a Cure sample at the Laboratory. No one knows the cause of death of both the girl and the inventor of the Cure, however, both are said to be linked, as deduced from a recording of a video found next to the dead body of Mr. Worthington.”

The newscaster was replaced by the footage of the said video. It was a recording of a man, middle-aged with dark, greasy hair. His faded grey-blue eyes were hard but his face held the look of utmost superiority—arrogance and pride had swallowed the man.

He was speaking.

“As you should know by now, I have broken into the building which houses the Cure samples. It may be the one of the most heavily guarded laboratories in the state, but to me, it was nothing.” There was a crackling of static as the man took a deep breath. “It was unfortunate that Dr. Worthington had to die. He was in my way. And I didn’t like that. I am fully aware that the Cure is only temporary. That is why me and my group of activists stole it in the first place. We plan to attempt to tamper with the Cure; make it permanent. I am the leader of this group, and we hate mutants. We will eradicate them. We do not want them here, defiling our country. We will wipe them off the face of this planet. And no one will stop us. Anyone who tries to do so, mutant or otherwise, will end up like the little girl we killed yesterday.” Pause. “Mutants, beware. We will hunt you down. You. Are. All. Dead.”

The video was cut and the news presenter’s face came back onscreen.

“That was the footage of the video found next to Warren Worthington’s dead body. The man in the video has been identified by state officials as a known criminal extremist by the name of Ezekiel Blacken. Mutants all over the country have expressed great concern towards this…”

Rogue had long since stopped listening and was hit with a wave of disbelief. “No… no, no, no, no…” she said over and over again, shaking her head.

“Told you it wasn’t Magneto who did it,” Mystique said smugly, and Rogue couldn’t help but feel just slightly outraged at her uncaring indifference towards the deaths of the poor mutant girl and Warren’s father.

“Ezekiel Blacken…” John muttered, deep in thought.

“He’s insane,” Bobby said darkly with a nod.

“He’s fuckin’ crazy…” John agreed.

“Warren…” Rogue whispered under her breath, looking over to where her beautifully winged friend was, and took a step in his direction, wanting to go over to him and comfort him in some way. In any way. But at that very moment, Piotr appeared at the doorway.

“Miss Munroe?” the huge mutant said uncomfortably as everyone turned to stare at him, “There’s… someone at the front door looking for Professor Xavier.”

“Piotr?” Ororo tilted her head in his direction.

“It’s Erik Lensherr, Miss.”

“Dammit,” the weather-manipulator cursed.

Raven Darkholme was out of the living room as soon as Magneto’s name was said.

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-A/N-: Every possible misfortune seems to be happening in this chapter, eh?

Oh. The bad guy has finally been introduced in this fic. And so, future chapters might turn just a tad bit action/adventure-ish. And oh my goodness, Warren’s father is dead. I feel bad now.

Anyway, here are my replies to some reviewers:

Kari Lynn Craine Logan is such an interesting character to write. Just because he gets so worked up about everything. Anyway, I can’t tell you who’s going to die in the end until the time comes. If I did, it’ll be spoiling it for you now, wouldn’t it? Haha. Be patient.

Dementa: Where would Pietro be without Wanda? Haha, yes, Wanda’s existence will play a part in this fic. It won’t be a big part, but she is absolutely vital to the plot. It’s interesting that you pointed her out though. It’s like you plucked the thought out of my mind.

the sillylittlepanda: Yeah, I can’t believe that this was meant to be a one-shot either. I mean, SEVENTEEN chapters! I’m really proud of this fic. Thanks for your support! Because everyone has been such devoted readers, it really encourages me to update and make this fic one of my best.

storytellergirl: Hey there, welcome aboard! I’m seriously honored that you’ve enjoyed reading this fic so far. Your review alone had made my day. I hope you liked this chapter!

Many thanks to the rest of you: Chica De Los Ojos Cafe, xLiLix, Obiwanfan, Mrs. St. John Allerdyce, yaba, secondrate, rogueparker, PsYcHoThErApY17and Psyc0gurl0.

Reviews are much appreciated!