What They Deserved
Disclaimer: Don't own. This is actually my first attempt at Rogue/Pietro. I kinda like this pairing.
I'm not sorry. I mentally repeat it over and over again to make sure it sticks. Practice makes perfect. I'm not sorry for what I just did, for killing my mother. No, wait. I didn't kill her and she was never my mother. There, that's better.
Mystique was never anything but a lying, manipulative witch and I'm glad she's gone forever. I'll never have to hear her call me her daughter ever again. I don't care what she says or Kurt says or anybody says. I'm not her daughter, never was and never will be. That's the end of that.
I look back towards the cliff. Kurt's probably devastated. I never meant to hurt him but what he wanted was a full-blown miracle. Me forgive Mystique, me allow her to go on living and scheming and using me? Like hell I will. So I did the exact opposite. I pushed her off that cliff and I'm not sorry. He shouldn't be either. Why shed tears for her? She abandoned him, left him to die. Why doesn't he hate her like I do?
Xavier is so gonna kick me out for this if Kurt doesn't kill me first. Fine, I don't need them or anybody else. It's all my fault they're in this whole Apocalypse mess anyway. They're better off without me. Serve everybody some good if I joined Mystique and took a swan dive off that cliff. I turn back in that direction. I wonder for a moment what that would be like, what it would feel like to fly.
I turn away, too chicken I guess. It can't be because I think my life's worth anything. Nope, that's such a lie. All I do is screw everything up. I keep walking into the woods. I don't know or care where I'm going. It doesn't matter anyway. Nothing matters anymore. I'm just numb and hollow, no feeling at all. I'm just cold, distant, and untouchable.
I stop for a second. My eyes get watery for some unknown reason. There's a gnawing guilt in my stomach. Kurt's words echo in my head. 'Prove you're not like her.' It's too late for that you stupid little fuzzball. I'm too far-gone to turn back now. I put my hands to my face to try and hold back the tears. Why am I crying? She was a monster. Why am I crying for her?
"Rogue?" I don't register the voice probably because it's not at all who I'd expect to be here. I bottle up the tears for when I'm alone again. I stare up at him. I'd never actually peg him to be concerned about anyone 'cept himself and maybe his sister or his dad.
"Pietro?" I ask it in surprise. It's him alright, no mistake. Question of the night is: Why's he here?
"You okay?" he asks as I wipe my eyes a little. I sniff and nod. The mask slips on again, the façade of coldness I use to keep people away and to keep from hurting them. Pietro can see through it. I've had him in my head a few times, enough to know he wears his own mask too.
"How come yer here?" I ask him. If I were any other X-Man I wouldn't even give him the time of day. I know Scott and some of the others buy into this enemy crap but not me. I've lived in that shack with those boys. As cliché as it sounds they're a lot like us.
"Had to get some air," he replies simply, "Things at the house aren't exactly cheerful since . . . you know." I get a puzzled look on my face. Since what, Apocalypse?
"Since what?" I ask him. He looks a little bewildered himself. Apparently I'm supposed to know whatever he's talking about.
"You weren't there?" he asks, "My dad, Apocalypse killed him. Xavier called to tell us, I thought you already knew." I don't know what to say for a few seconds. Magneto dead?
"Sorry," I reply in a hollow voice. I say it completely out of habit, there's no real feeling attached to it.
"Don't be," he replies coldly, "not for him." It surprises me. From what I've seen I thought Pietro liked his dad. An odd thought suddenly occurs to me.
"How'd Wanda take it?" I ask him. He snorts. I can tell what he's thinking. Wanda seems like a good gal but her head's been screwed with so much she don't know which way is up anymore. She's kinda a lot like me actually.
"She cried," said Pietro, "She started crying for that bastard. God, it makes me hate him even more. That's why I had to leave." I nod and immediately think of Kurt. I stare at Pietro for a little bit, as if realizing who he is for the very first time. It occurs to me that we're really not that different.
"How about you?" he asks. I feel the gnawing in my stomach again.
"I. . ." I struggle, "I killed her, Pietro. I killed my momma." It all just comes out right there. I stop trying to hold back the tears. Everything becomes blurry as I just cry and cry and cry.
"Hey, no contact policy, remember?" says Pietro as I wrap my arms around him and rest my head against his shoulder. It's okay, we're both protected. I can't help it. He's the only human being around and I desperately need somebody's shoulder to cry on.
"She was already dead," he says. I feel his arms go around me, careful not to touch my bare skin. It feels kinda nice to be close to someone for a change.
"No," I explain, "Agatha, that creepy witch woman, said Ah could bring her back if Ah just touched her, used my powers on her. Ah couldn't do it so instead Ah pushed her off tha damn cliff and broke her inta a million pieces."
"Sucks to be you," replies Pietro. How the hell can he be so damn smug all the time?
"Look," he says once he's realized his previous error, "they got what they deserved, Magneto and Mystique. You think I'm sorry Magneto's gone?" I look at him for a moment. What kind of people are we? Both of us lose a parent and neither of us is sorry.
"But Ah could've saved her," I tell him, "Ah could've saved her but instead Ah killed her. Ah'm a monster, Pietro."
"No," he replies, "No, you're not. Monsters don't cry, Rogue. I'm the only monster here." He separates himself from me and steps back. I stand in silence and simply stare at him.
"You want some advice?" he asks, "Stop. Quit now while you can still feel, while you're still sorry for what you did. You're heading down a road no one should take. Get off of it while there's still time to."
"What about you?" I ask, "Is there any hope for you?" He shakes his head and sighs. I can only wonder what he's thinking about, what he's done while he's been on that road.
"I was born on that road," he states, "and I ran down it at lightspeed just like usual. It's too late for me." He turns to leave but then stops and looks at me.
"They got what they deserved," he repeats, "They're out. How long before we get what we deserve, Rogue, and who do you think will give it to us?" I can tell he's thinking of Wanda because at the same time I'm thinking about Kurt. He must know it because he nods.
"Don't let it happen to you, Rogue," he warns, "You're too good of a person for that." I blink away a tear and he's gone. I'm all alone again but I have no more tears left to cry. Now I'm just confused. I thought I wasn't sorry but I've sat here and bawled like a baby over it. I still hate Mystique for what she did to me. Did I have the right to execute her? Kurt would tell me to let God handle it. God's too slow though. I wanted to do it my way.
'How long before we get what we deserve?' What do I deserve, death? Am I that much of a monster now too? 'Prove you're not like her.' I thought it was too late but I was wrong. There has to be a limit. The road has to end somewhere. I shudder as I realize where it will end. Hell is the end of the line for monsters like us. 'How long before we get what we deserve?' Someone stop the ride, please, I'd like to get off.