o u r . n o b l e . s c a r s

Our Noble Scars
[by victoria p.]

Rating: R - language

Summary: Rogue tells Scott a few things in the aftermath of battle.

Notes: Thanks to Dot, Meg, Jen, and Pete. I was listening to "Reclamation" by Fugazi when I thought of this. Great song.

See the lovely graphic Märrie made for this fic by clicking here

She sat in the cockpit with Scott while Jean and Ororo worked on Logan. She was so angry she was shaking. Okay, it was possible the shaking was from fear and shock as well.

Tonight, she'd killed three people.

Three members of the Brotherhood, sure, but they were still people. People who had tried to kill her. People who had almost succeeded at killing Logan. Her hands tightened on the arms of the seat. She'd come so close to losing him, but she hadn't. She knew he'd heal, as long as Jean could stop the blood loss.

Now if she could just get out of the conversation she knew Scott wanted to have. If she could stay clear, and get to her room, she could avoid it until her anger had passed, and not say anything she would regret. Because if they had the discussion now, she knew she would. She would say something and she wouldn't be able to take it back this time.

"Rogue," Scott said, breaking into her thoughts.

"Do we have to do this now?" she asked in a low, harsh voice.

"I think we should."

"I don't."

Ororo spoke up, then, from her place at Logan's side. "Scott, not now."

He tossed an angry glance over his shoulder at her, but kept his mouth shut.

Rogue decided that perhaps she had been given an opening, a chance to explain while the experience was still fresh in everyone's mind. "If not now, when? How many more times does this," she waved a hand at Logan's bleeding body, "have to happen before it's time?"

Scott's glare was directed at her now. "Rogue, you know we don't kill unless it's absolutely necessary--"

"Scott, they had Logan. Magneto was twisting him like taffy. Don't tell me it wasn't necessary." Her voice rose, edged with hysteria.

In the windshield, she could see Jean's and Storm's reflections; she couldn't make out their features, but she had a pretty good idea of their expressions. Concern, reproach, maybe even a little fear.

"It wasn't part of the plan--" Scott tried again, and again she cut him off.

"The plan! Oh, Fearless Leader, we didn't fucking follow the fucking plan! Boohoo. Your brilliant plan didn't take Mystique into account, did it, Cyclops? Didn't expect that she'd turn into me and distract Logan while Magneto held him still so Sabretooth could rip his guts out--" She paused to breathe, taking in big gulps of air to calm herself. Her control was tenuous at best after battle, and this one had been far worse than any other. She'd never killed anyone before, and not even Logan's and Magneto's memories had prepared her for how she felt. She was close to breaking.

"No, I didn't expect it, Rogue. But you didn't have to kill them. You could have knocked them out and waited for the authorities to arrive."

"The authorities?" She laughed, and again told herself to cool it. She couldn't lose it. Jean had too much on her hands with Logan right now. "You can be all noble, Cyclops," she twisted the name into a curse, "and talk about the authorities, and reasonable force and all that shit. Who pays the price for it? Logan does, every time. Every fucking time we go out, he gets injured, and that's fine by you, because he heals.

"Well, it's not fine with me! Just because he heals doesn't mean he doesn't feel the pain!" She dashed angrily at the tears that had started to spill down her cheeks.

Scott sighed, and she could see how tightly clenched his jaw was. A muscle twitched in his cheek. "I do understand, Rogue," he said softly.

They were silent for a few moments. She thought they'd gotten through it, and it was over. She was actually feeling a little proud that she'd managed not to insult him.

But Scott couldn't let it go. It was one of the things she loved about him, but it also made her want to wring his neck. "You have to understand that it's not our way to kill. The X-Men help people; we help to facilitate the Professor's dream--"

"We're fighting a war, Cyke. People die. And if it's up to me, it ain't gonna be the people on my side," she said, her voice a low snarl over the hum of the engines. "Magneto killed me once, Scott. He's never gonna do it again."

"Rogue--"

"I was dead," she continued, ignoring his interruption and regaining control. "I was dead on the top of the Statue of Liberty, and Logan brought me back." Her voice had become curiously devoid of emotion. "I can't take the chance that one day, it will be you or Jean or anyone else."

"That's why we plan and strategize and--"

"You do that," she said, suddenly tired of the argument. "You do what looks good to you on paper. I'll do what needs doing." She closed her eyes. This was going to be it. The final straw -- the last round in an almost endless debate that was ripping the team apart.

Scott and the Professor and his X-Men wanted to live in harmony with the humans and make nice with the bad mutants. She and Logan knew that killing the enemy was a sad fact of life during wartime. And she knew that when the shock wore off, she'd have nightmares of plunging the knife into Mystique's neck and getting sprayed with her blood -- tonight, she'd killed the image of herself. As soon as she had a chance to really think about it, she knew she'd freak out, watching Mystique's body melt back into its natural form as her life drained out onto the ice. In fact, she was starting to freak about it now, if her shaking hands were any indication.

And then the hired gun -- what was his name? Kray. Lucas Kray. She'd killed him, too, in order to get to Magneto.

She hadn't used the knife on the older mutant. He'd bent it and flung it from her hand. He'd tried to strangle her with Logan's dog tags. But in the end, he was no match for Rogue. Not when Logan was on the ground bleeding and writhing in agony because of the way Magneto had twisted the metal of his skeleton after Sabretooth had gutted him.

She had honed in on him; all the confusion around her in the arctic night had ceased to exist. Her world narrowed to herself and Magneto, her mind focused on nothing but saving Logan and stopping Magneto from ever hurting them again. She stripped off her gloves and one of her hands grabbed his, while the other cupped his cheek almost gently.

She'd learned much in her five years at Xavier's. She couldn't control her power, but she could handle the effects of it now, rapidly integrating what she could use and blocking off the rest of the new personality so it couldn't interfere with her functioning.

"You didn't have to hold on," Scott whispered.

And it was the truth. She had killed Mystique and disabled Magneto. Storm and Scott had handled Sabretooth. As far as the X-Men were concerned, there was no need for her to drain every last drop of life out of the old master of magnetism. But she had. Because she knew he would never stop coming until he was dead.

"If you want to kill a snake, you cut off its head," she recited. Logan had trained her. Logan had trained them all to some extent, but they all knew that he had spent extra time over the years with her, turning her into one of the best fighters any of them had ever seen. And he'd inculcated her with his philosophy.

"You think it's over? That we'll be safe?" Scott asked. "You think that killing is the answer?"

"Yes," she said. "In this case, yes." She had never said it out loud before, though she knew both she and Logan had thought it many times. And she was sure that, having finally spoken it aloud, it wouldn't be long before she and Logan left the X-Men.

"I see."

"I don't think you do, Scott," she whispered sadly. "I don't think you ever will."

They sat silently for the rest of the long flight home from Murmansk, each lost in their own thoughts.

End

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