He knew exactly what needed to be done. Just wasn’t sure he could do it. It was down to just the two of them now. Everyone else had gone off to safety. He stared up at her, noticing the way her hair flew around her head like flames. Her eyes were completely black and a look of sheer boredom across her delicate features. He loved this woman. But was that going to be enough to save her from herself? Even if it meant living the rest of eternity in his own private hell? He didn’t know, to be truthful, but it had to be done. All this chaos swirling around them, and she still had the audacity to appear bored. At least the other wasn’t here. He didn’t have to worry about her doing something heroic, trying to prove her worth to the team, to him, and to herself.
He didn’t know she was here, standing behind him, down wind. With all the noise, the screams and sounds of destruction floating around them, he hadn’t heard the crunch of her boots behind him. It was now or never. She couldn’t let him do this. He shouldn’t have to live with this. And so, she reached out and touched, a gentle touch, grabbing his neck before he knew what was happening.
He felt it. That familiar pull. But it was too late. He wanted to pull away, but his body wouldn’t listen. Couldn’t, really. Her touch wasn’t just deadly, but paralyzing. The only one who could end it was her. And just before the darkness engulfed him, he heard her, that southern lit to her voice that dripped with honey. “I’m sorry.”
The woman who was once Jean Grey now looked at her, watching as she moved closer, steadily, like a hunter moving in on her prey. That look of boredom washed away from her face, unsure and amused by this out come. This was an unexpected twist of events, and she wondered if the others saw from the safety of the sidelines. “What do you want, child? Here to stop the Phoenix?”
Rogue was shocked to hear her speak, that voice so alike that of her teacher, and yet, so different. The superiority so distinct. It was the only time she faltered, and it could have been her downfall, if Phoenix hadn’t been so sure of herself.
“Going to do it or not? Can’t, can you?” The voice was amused, but her eyes changed then. Going from amused to pleading and back so quickly, Rogue might have missed it. But she hadn’t, and that was all the incentive she needed. She threw off the jacket she had worn when she left the mansion a week before, not noticing as it disinigrated before given the chance to his the floor. She had known it would come down to this, and had planned on it. She was topless underneath, knowing that just her hands weren’t going to be enough to take this woman down. It would take all of her skin. Slowly, she walked forward, mentally preparing herself to take this woman’s life. She could feel the heat coming off this woman, burning her flesh as she moved closer. The pain was only bearable do to the healing abilities she had stolen from Logan. If it hadn’t been so hot, she probably would have been crying. As was, the tears were dissolving faster than they could form.
When she was about a foot and a half away, she lunged, throwing herself at her mentor, making sure that every inch of Phoenix’s skin was forged to her own.
There was no fight at that point. Nothing that could be remembered as one or the other doing what they could to survive. Nothing that could make anyone dissuade the outcome. The older woman screamed in pain, and everyone listening would swear that it was Jean later on. Rogue only ground her teeth and held on tighter, knowing that the other woman wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
Rogue’s grip only tightened as she felt the woman flowing into her. She could hear the voices around her, thoughts off all those who witnessed what she had done, whispering in her head, wondering what was happening. And just as the last of the woman’s life entered her mind, she felt herself enveloped into the darkness that had claimed the mighty Wolverine only moments before.