The Longest Day:
Execution

On Love and Lust at Mutant High #28

by jenn

Author Notes: This required research. Count 'em--one comicverse fanfic archive = 45 stories, most of which were Rogue/Gambit or Rogue/Magneto. Please, mourn my shell-shock with me. One Comic Rogue FAQ. So far losing my mind as to entreat smug fanboy friends who always said I'd come to them one day. After all that, I STILL don't have a clear idea of what exactly happens inside Rogue when she gets a person dead in her head for keepsies and I'm not honestly sure the comic writers do either. So the following authors need to be thanked--Nacey for Causa Anima, Karen S for Obsession, Diebin for most of her stories, and the ittybitty fanfic archive for about fifty ways it could be or is or will be, I'm not sure anymore (dizzy am I). I interpreted heavily from those areas and all of them deserve adulation. For a bibliography of stories I went through, email me, and I'll give 'em to you in detail.

*****

St. John spent the hour beforehand watching Bobby sleep. The rec room was quiet, and he centered himself on the floor by Bobby's feet, clearing his head. This was not something that should worry him, not at all. The Professor would be there. And that *wasn't* Carol Danvers. That was a mental copy of Carol Danvers in Rogue's head. The real Carol Danvers died. Very dead. Currently vaporized in his very own explosion.

Jubilee was sitting beside him, her knee pressed against his. A little cool, and it made him wonder if his temperature had risen again.

"You ready?" Soft voice. Gentle.

"Yeah." Yeah, sure he was. He wanted her dead, he'd wanted her dead for a long time. Longer than even he knew. Absently, he began to stretch his fingers out, then rubbed sweating palms into his thighs. Before he could begin to get up, however, Jubilee levered herself up, taking his face between her hands.

"I'll be there, Johnny. It won't be just you and Rogue and the X-Men, okay?" Serious dark eyes, and he tried to smile, but nothing would work. Blankness in his mind, trying to keep out the Carol-vibes.

"And Logan, who is gonna turn us all into mulch, you know that."

Jubilee breathed out, a smile quirking her lips.

"Professor called Remy into his office after Scooter took Logan to work out some tension in the Danger Room. I think he and Kitty-cat are gonna go play in town for a bit. When Rogue's got control of her body again, Logan'll turn all his attention on her. He won't have any time to worry about the sins of omission by the kids, 'kay?"

"Yeah." He got the feeling that Logan didn't forget crap like that. Jubilee glanced at Bobby. "You sure--"

"Nah. Bobby'll want to be there and he had that thing for Rogue, you know. It'll freak him totally to see me and her go at it." A pause. Another deep breath "Let's go."

Nodding, she got to her feet, pulling him up with some of that amazing physical strength that always vaguely shocked him, before fingers slid through his and they made their slow way to the elevator. Comforting--that someone was going with him, ready to be of use. Mostly because she initiated this whole damn situation. He glanced down at her as she sauntered along beside him, wondering

"I'm taking you out to dinner tonight." Absently, she swung their hands, skipping a little to try and hide the glance over her shoulder. Checking on Bobby probably. Shit, he wouldn't wake up until it was all over. Good thing.

St. John laughed a little. That elevator door looked awfully close.

"Bobby might get jealous."

"He'll get over it. Mexican food, babe. Something in hot."

Dr. McCoy was--how serendipitous!--waiting for them at the door.

"Scott and Jean are both going to be present," he said softly as they stepped into the elevator. Hearing Jubilee's sharp breath, he shook his big head absently. "Jean's telekinesis might be of help, and Scott insists that he needs to be present should Logan--"

Dr. McCoy trailed off and St. John nodded, and again wondered of all people, at the fact Logan would respond to Mr. Summers. "In any case--"

"I'm allowed in right?" St. John saw Dr. McCoy stiffen and he began to go that way too. "Look, one, Rogue's my friend and so is Johnny--and two--shit, there is no two there. I'm not sending Johnny in alone--"

"He won't be alone." St. John saw Jubilee wince and realized he'd taken a stronger grip on her hand. He was also getting hot--uncomfortable, definitely, and Dr. McCoy blinked. So it wasn't just him--it was the elevator as well. Because of him. Oh, this couldn't be good. Carol's dead, Johnny. Cool down. The door pinged open and he walked out, almost dragging Jubilee with him. No way in hell he was walking in alone. The door to the isolation chamber was locked, as expected, and he was standing--vibrating, practically--as Dr. McCoy caught up with them and put in the codes.

And wow, was this room full. He had an audience. This couldn't be good. Not at all.

"You'll do fine." Jubilee's voice in his ear. He knew, in some vague, not quite real way, that the Professor was talking to him, that Dr. Grey was saying something, and Logan was standing near one of the observation window, not even paying attention to him at all. Nor was Mr. Summers, who was standing just behind him, speaking in a low voice that St. John supposed was trying to keep Logan from walking in there and just *shaking* Rogue loose from Carol. Which no doubt had probably been an option. Hehehe, Johnny, get a grip. Buttons were pushed, a hand on his back led him forward, and suddenly Jubilee's hand was gone and he was alone with Rogue.

He almost didn't recognize her.

Bare hands--first thing. Broken fingernails, and Rogue had amazingly fussy habits about her hands. Bruised knuckles, nothing broken though, the walls were a mess of scratches and the pounding of her fists and her feet--Carol's strength. Carol's invulnerability. Long hair handing around her face, the scrubs dirty and stained--

--brilliant green eyes met his when the door closed behind him. Sealing shut like a bank vault. Bright green, Carol's intense gaze, the color of grass or of pure life. He remembered seeing them for the first time and thinking he'd fall in love with a girl with green eyes one day.

"Pyro." Low bare drawl--could have almost been Rogue, but it wasn't, it was Carol mocking Rogue. Her whole body shuddered suddenly and her head went back down.

"Been awhile." Fuck, what was he supposed to do here? He didn't know banter, had no idea where to go with this. Mock her? Ask her how it felt to be dead and in someone else's body? It was Rogue's body, but it was so easy to see those eyes and think Carol.

Carol scared him. Carol, amoral, totally driven, unforgivably stupid sometimes. Carol. He found a chair in the far corner, guessed by its relatively intactness that it'd been shoved in with him before they sealed the door. Glancing at the observation windows, polarization making it certain he couldn't see a thing. Rather frightening and comforting at the same time.

"I'm glad you're dead."

That brought her head up sharply, and another shudder went through her. But Rogue wasn't looking at him.

:::She is gaining a measure of control.::: Johnny jumped at the feel of the Professor's voice in his head--luckily, the man saved his pride and didn't comment on it. :::Rogue is fighting her but is weakening as Carol becomes angry. Continue.:::

"You're--you're glad I'm dead, sugar?" Grated out between teeth that'd only half-obey. Staring at him from those eyes he'd seen at twelve and so alone. Braced against an alley wall, grinning down and asking if this was the best he could possibly do. Dirty alleys and dumpster dinners. You could be so much more, Johnny--you could do anything you want. Come with me, baby.

"I'm so glad you're dead." His breath was harsh. Eyes widening as they fixed on him. "You made my life hell--"

"I trained you!" On her feet, jerkily, fighting Rogue again, but pure rage just did something. "You would have died if I hadn't found you!"

This was good?

"Nothing I wanted to learn."

"Playing the part of a hero in a leather suit, honey?" Flat Midwestern tone. Another, slightly smoother movement. Hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. "Your friends know what you are? You tell them about that first fire?" Abruptly, she jerked again, hand going out to the wall to steady herself. "Tell them about it, Pyro baby."

"The Professor knows everything he needs to--hard to hide from a full telepath." His hands were clenched on the arms of the chair--he found himself standing up, hands becoming warm. "It must suck, being dead, knowing an eighteen year old kid brought you down. After all, you were recruited because you thought you were the best, right?"

"I am the best!"

"You're pretty dead, actually."

Another step toward him, her body suddenly jerking her against the wall.

Continue? He was descending into soap opera melodrama--where the *hell* did he go from here?

"I'm not dead." Another step closer, then her feet braced and she rose two inches off the floor. Hovering. "You ungrateful little bastard--I offered you your life out there and you attacked me."

"You were gonna kill my friends." She was getting closer, the twitching was slowing down. Rogue was losing. God, he would be making this up to her for years.

"Not you." A sharp breath.

"You think I believe that? You tried to sell me to the Brotherhood once. You gonna try to do that again?"

Somewhere in that outer room, they were finding out more about him than he'd ever wanted anyone to know.

"It was for your own good! You were stupid, undisciplined--you needed someone to train you." Hovering a little closer. He wondered if he should back up--

A fist impacted into his jaw, knocking him several long feet. Not at her full strength--she could have broken his jaw if she was. Something still holding her back. The wall was comforting against his back and he rubbed his bruised muscles, staring at her as she floated uncertainly.

"You lost. Lost your money for me, lost your mission, lost your life. Ain't it great to be dead and have a little girl picking you apart from the inside out?"

Got it. She was coming at him and there was nothing of Rogue in that slender body.

He never knew he'd do it until he did, rushing out of him, fire that burned on nothing but the power of his mind--rushing out of him deliciously, and he breathed out before it got out of control. Between them in rich orange, and somewhere along the way he'd forgotten how beautiful it was--but how could he forget? Delicious. Staring at it lick the flames, reshaping it until it circled her, getting awkwardly to his feet.

"I should have killed you in Santa Fe, along with that family you burned to a crisp, baby."

Shit. That hurt, that would hurt. Later, when he had the time to be sick to his stomach and worry about those outside. This was Carol, he was Pyro, and they had some definite business to finish. Leave it right there.

"I've killed you in thirty Danger Room simulations." He steadied himself against the wall as a wave of nausea spilled through him from his bruised jaw. "I've killed you in my mind so many times--"

"Never could do it in real life."

:::St. John--::: Ignored him.

"I would have."

"For her? For the kid trying to fight her own body?" A laugh--no more jerkiness, Carol was in full control. Smiling, and he let the fire die, feeling a sharp pain when he did it, hating to lose it. Her feet hit the floor and she staggered a little from the impact. "She won't win."

"Yeah, you'd like to think that--she beat you once already."

"Pyro, baby. Whadya think the Brotherhood would give me for this body? What I can do with it? All my mutation and hers too." For the first time, she seemed to realize her hands were bare. "Come on Johnny. I'd like to start some fires for the hell of it. Get my ass outta here, anyway."

Oh shit.

She was fast--Rogue was trained to be fast, though, and Carol probably was startled by that. Didn't help--he hadn't even began to pull out his power when he was up against the wall, a hand wrapped around his throat.

The door was being unlocked--

:::NO! STAY THE FUCK OUT!::: Him this time, hoping they understood, hoping they knew. Carol out now was Rogue fucked over. Was him fucked over.

--Carol was smiling until she realized nothing was happening.

"You're not Rogue." He grinned, choking out the words. "That's one." Getting a hand up, knowing Rogue's weaknesses--wrapping his fingers around her wrist, an ankle around her knee, and they both tumbled to the floor. She was staring up at him blankly, eyes wide.

"How--"

"You're not in your body anymore--physical memory is different from the mind behind the eyes." He couldn't hold her, was already moving, letting the heat spread through him. So ready to use it, if for no other reason than to see it burn. Feel it burn, and how long had it been since he'd done that?

"She's mine. This is my body." Rolling into a crouch on the floor--she was moving more like Rogue than Carol, with that subtle tension of muscles, the way she rested her weight on the balls of her feet and kept so low--that wasn't Carol at all. Physical memory--the body knew what the mind did not.

"She killed you once--she'll have fun this time. Take you apart by inches." He knew he was smiling, knew that probably wasn't healthy. "You don't know her--and God, are you stupid. You let her take you down when you beat the rest of us. Think about it."

"Little bitch--" She hovered again, but it seemed less natural, less practiced--like she was doing it for the first time, like Rogue would do it. Watching her as she twitched a little--not much, but some. He wanted to know about the progress, how much time had gone by. What he needed to do, because it was tempting to kill her.

Kill those green eyes himself and let one ghost in his past finally be buried.

"You still want her, Johnny? That why you're fighting so hard to get her back?" Oh, not a good idea, Carol-baby. Not at all. Stupid, really. "I saw you out there on the field. You woke up for her."

"I wanted her to kill you. Shoulda been me, Carol. I'd've done it, I wanted it. But it was fun to watch, babe."

Her feet were on the ground again. She stumbled, grabbing for the wall.

"You're no better, Johnny." She was twitching again--had it been enough time? Had it? He didn't know, it couldn't be that short, Rogue had to have needed more time to break her.

"Yes, I am." Had to believe that. He was here, he wore the uniform. He didn't do that.

"What makes you better? You killed them just as surely as if you'd held a knife to their throats."

And it was so natural--she stumbled back against the wall at the force of his fist, rebounding off the wall and almost onto her knees before hastily catching her balance. Pushing her hair back with one hand.

*God* that felt good. He wanted to do it again.

"You didn't tell me they were in there."

:::St. John. Out. We've got it.:::

No--he wanted to tell her more. Tell her about the nightmares she'd caused, the long nights he'd spent awake listening to their screams when they died in his fire--more than that, he wanted to forget how much he'd loved controlling it, feeling it respond to his will and his mind.

That no, he hadn't known about that family, and he was suddenly uncertain that if he *had* known--if he had known, if he would have cared.

He wanted her dead for teaching him that much, how not to care. It was burning his hands, burning in his body, he could feel it come to life--and fire he created could never hurt him. Small space, super containment, he could blast so hard even invulnerability couldn't protect her. Ram that chair through her body superheated, let her die. Finally.

Rogue was suddenly frozen in place--Dr. Grey or Professor Xavier, probably--and the door opened. A hand on his arm that jerked away--was his temperature that high?

"Johnny?"

He was watching her stand there, and her body began to twitch--almost like convulsions--but he knew it was finally happening. Rogue was stronger, Rogue was determined--Rogue would have his head for hitting her body. A hand on his sleeve, pulling him back and out and the door was closed before he heard a piercing scream and he turned as Rogue collapsed into the floor.

But he'd wanted to be the one that killed her--

Professor Xavier was inside too, and he hadn't even heard the man go in. Stared at Rogue, then back to Dr. Grey, who was swaying slightly, eyes closed, Dr. McCoy supporting her body--and Logan, who'd raked metal claws across the wall and Scott just beside him, hand on his shoulder. Maybe talking again.

No one was paying attention to him and he was glad. Door open, out, close behind him, collapse into the hall floor. It felt good, it was good, it was quiet and Carol hadn't told him about that family, but she was right.

He wouldn't have cared.

"Johnny?"

"Pyro." His voice was hoarse.

"We don't play like that." Jubilee, kneeling beside him, arms going all around him despite the heat of his skin, the feel of his body. Gentle, sisterly, warm around and against him, and he closed his eyes. "It's nasty, Johnny. I'm sorry."

"You got Rogue back. You're not sorry."

"I'm sorry it had to be you, babe. But I wouldn't change anything." Hands on his face, lifting, so he could look at her. "Neither would you. She's gonna be dead very soon."

"I wish I'd killed her myself." Fingers in his hair, gently stroking, and he leaned into her. She had a past, just like all of them. Just not quite like his.

"Yeah." Her voice was soft. "I wish you could have too."