You Don't Want This Kind of Bad, Sugar.

[un_gloved]

Rogue had been having fun. Rictor had been far too easy- not to mention wholly enjoyable- and gotten the know it all out of the way, not that she had a chance. Chaos gave the little bit trouble? Rogue was all chaos.

Deep down.

It felt good to be out.

She was sitting on the rail of the Brooklyn Bridge, enjoying the breeze and imagining the possibilities of where the evening could go. Where life could go. With her prime unconscious for who knew how long, things were looking decidedly up, and she had a world of scores to settle. Brooklyn looked nice from across the river, and the seaport was quiet, only diners and the tourists drifting away from the mall. Westchester wasn't far. Neither was S.H.I.E.L.D., apparently, and there were some people over that way who needed badly to die.

"God as mah witness," she purred to the evening, and stood in preparation to fly.

Comments

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Rogue lashed out with one hand, cracking one of her own dupes so hard across the jaw that she collapsed into a motionless heap. She grimaced, eyes darkening, as she reached out and absorbed her. That left five, and the four of them looked much the worse for wear. The central dupe, the originator, she looked fine. Haggard and pissed off, but comparatively fine. Her eyes were fixed on Jamie like a laser.

"And that's all you've got," she said, sounding exceptionally unstable. "That's all you can do."

The implication was, it wasn't enough.

[jamesmadrox.livejournal.com]

Five, angry Rogues to his one resolved, and dying where he stood Jamie Madrox.

This can't be happening.

The bridge around them was in ruins and the corpses of the dead dupes stared blankly at the night sky. The acrid smell of burnt rubber invaded his nostrils, the metallic taste of blood tainted his tongue.

He stood opposite her, opposite them perfectly alone. Creating more dupes was preventing the inevitable.

Jamie Madrox was going to die.

This can't be happening.

He stared at the central dupe.

This can't be happening.

And then his eyes widened slightly.

No, this can't be happening. I should already be dead. Why am I not dead?

How am I not dead?

"No," he said, shaking his head. His tone was not of a man who was about to die. Surprisingly, he sounded elated. A grin stretched across his face and with the blood and the bruises he looked rather insane. "No, it isn't."

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

Evil Rogue's (to go with a moniker) eyes narrowed. The four behind her rose similarly above the pavement, clearly uneasy with each other, but much more dedicated to the eradication of Jamie Madrox from the planet.

She burst forward to grab the front of his shirt with one hand and jerk him up, stopping just short of her nose brushing his.

"I'm gonna drain you til there ain't nothin' left," she murmured, offering a sweet little smile, watching him through her lashes.

[jamesmadrox.livejournal.com]

"No," he said, still grinning. Still slightly crazy. "No, you aren't."

He grabbed onto her shoulders. "You know why?"

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

She looked taken aback and half outraged. She didn't actually speak (and the other dupes stopped short as well, bristling, hands curling into fists), but she gave the impression of saying:

"?!"

[jamesmadrox.livejournal.com]

"Because this isn't happening," he said in a low voice "This isn't the real world. It's a construct. A trick. I should be dead right now and I'm not. And if this isn't real? If this is all in my head? That means I can bend the rules." His grin returned. "That means I can beat you."

His grip on her shoulders tightened.

"You want my powers? You wanna suck me dry? Then you get the whole deal. You get the superpowers. You get the army." Beat. "And you get the itty bitty living space."

Still squeezing her shoulders Jamie closed his eyes and did a remarkable thing: he started to absorb Rogue.

[un-gloved.livejournal.com]

The other four made an honest to God break for it and didn't get very far. She gave a startled his, lifting her hands to push away from him, but they dissolved.

"No," she said, "no, no, no you can't do that you can't do this."

But he could, apparently.

A few miles away, a young woman broke into cold sweats, and woke up yelling.

[jamesmadrox.livejournal.com]

"I'd make an allusion to the Matrix," he said, breathing heavily as she disappeared into him. "But that's after your time, sugar."

It was a head-rush like he'd never experienced before. He could feel the Rogue - literally rogue in this case - personality claw at him from the inside. She was stronger than the S.H.I.E.L.D. dupe, stronger than any dupe he'd reabsorbed before, but that was to be expected.

She was Rogue. Her very name implied something extraordinary. Something unexpected.

I'm the fly in the ointment. The spanner in the works. I'm unpredictable.

He began to shake uncontrollably and he leaned against a car for support, slowly sliding down to the ground, utterly thankful that he hadn't simply collapsed. Hadn't created another dupe. Hadn't created another disaster.

"I'm the X-Factor," he said softly.

And then, he fell unconscious, armageddon lying in his wake.

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

Layla clambered over a severely messed up SUV, and walked around the gaping, crumbling hole in the middle of the Brooklyn bridge until she was kneeling beside Jamie, watching him with a terse expression.

"Idiot," she said quietly, then stood and turned.

"Over this way, mallrat!"