thirteen !
-

Rosa barely manages to sleep, even with Warren right beside her.

His breathing even. His body in a complete state of relaxation as if they aren't about to bring the end of days. He even looks peaceful, his lashes brushing his under-eyes and his jaw relaxed for once, not grinding his teeth with stress.

After managing around an hour, she wakes in a cold sweat sits up with a groan, shivering as she rubs her eyes with the balls of her palms.

It's too much. It's all too much. Between their intended bringing of the apocalypse and this new power shooting through her veins and rattling around inside of her skull, Rosa is tired of it all.

Tired of fighting.

Tired of living in fear.

She squeezes her eyes tight as the memories of what she's left behind come back to her. Those defences she's worked so hard to hold up slip in her moment of fatigue and she hears him.

Hears that voice that has guided her for years.

Professor Charles Xavier slipping through the cracks. Never one to pass up an opportunity when he sees one. Pulling the door open with both hands and stepping into the furious darkness.

But he has not come with advice.

"What have you done, Rosa?" His voice is a whisper as it drifts into her mind through the door she's forgotten to lock. "Come home," He beckons, he pleads, "Come home."

For a split second, she considers. Until the hate and the pain and the anger comes crashing down onto her once more at blistering speed, snapping her clean in two.

"No!" Rosa bites, shoving him backwards, slamming the door shut and locking it top and bottom. Shutting him out once more. Blocking him from her mind. Pushing back the tears and swallowing the thick lump of truth in her throat.

She rubs her face with her hands as she attempts to recollect herself. Though it is perhaps more of a feat than she's fully capable of in her current state.

"You are in pain, my child," Apocalypse notes calmly, crossing the room towards her as if he is walking on clouds. Her outburst doesn't seem to alarm him. Nothing appears to faze him.

Rosa opens her mouth to reply but clamps it shut once more, stiffly climbing to her feet and shaking out her wings.

"There is no need to be afraid. You will bring the new age in with this power, but, until then, it will continue to magnify within you." He reaches a hand towards her and grips her chin, bringing her to meet his eye and see. Not forcefully, but not weakly either.

A reminder of the potential those hands withhold, but also a reminder of all he has promised. Opening her eyes once more, beyond the realm of pain. To see the world she will bring to its knees for the greater good of all mutants.

She wonders if he can sense the doubt beginning to simmer in her and intends to stomp it out before it boils over.

"Then, all your pain will be gone. You can start your life," he glances to where Warren sleeps, knowing and understanding her true motivations, "and live without fear. Until then, you must endure, my child."

"I will endure," Rosa breathes out, trying her hardest to block the questioning of Charles from her mind to stay true to the path she's set out on.

This is her purpose. Her only purpose. To be the Harbinger of the new age and set her wrath upon the world who would rather see her wings clipped than see her soar.

"Good." He drops his grip on her; her cold sweat leaves with it.

A small mercy in her endurance run to the finish line.

To victory.

Though she isn't quite sure it'll be a victory anymore, but Rosa locks that thought away behind many walls and vaults. Knows her beginnings of doubt are there even as they're pushed to the back of her mind.

Maybe it'll be more of a Pyrrhic victory. A victory of great cost and loss. Who will they have to kill to meet their purpose? They might win the war and rain the apocalypse down upon the world, but at what cost?

Who won't emerge when the dust settles to begin life anew?

Determined to get at least a few hours of sleep while the pain is minimal, Rosa sinks back to the floor and curls up into Warren's side. In his sleep, his wing lifts and lowers over her, the metal surprisingly light for its build.

She hears him muttering indecipherable words in his sleep as her body grows heavy, sleep granting her wish at last.

-

-

The morning rolls around fast and Rosa awakes more refreshed than she's been in a long while, but the freshness is short lived when Charles makes his presence known as he steps inside Erik's mind believing he can reason with a broken man.

Forever the optimist, Charles steps right into a disaster zone.

Right into the arms of those with radical ideas and enough bitterness in their bones to heed the call to action.

"Extraordinary," Apocalypse breathes out, a clear admiration for the power on his ancient face.

Rosa stiffens involuntarily, her body reacting before her mind can reach the same conclusions as Apocalypse. Whatever he has in store, the seed of doubt sprouting in her mind rebels. Though she is careful to stash it away out of sight in fear of the repercussions for such traitorous thought.

"What do you see?" Warren asks curiously from beside her, taking a small step forward.

Another step down the Apocalyptic path.

"The answer," He says in response, as vague as ever.

Rosa clamps her jaw shut. Despite her view of the Professor as being a figure of authority who knows himself above her, witnessing his demise without lifting a finger of protest will take every ounce of her resolve.

He'd been there for her when her family shunned her, disowned her, for who she is. Helped her find her feet and then her wings. Was there when she took her first flight and, inevitably, for her first crash too. He'd been there to teach her how to control the dark parts of her mind, how to defend her mind from those who may wish to invade.

He'd helped her become the woman she is today and now she must stand by to watch him burn in the fires of their apocalypse.

That's the cost.

The cost she's been fearing.

Suddenly the Pyrrhic victory isn't such a feat of her over-worked mind and is beginning to look more and more like their likely reality.

"Thank you for letting me in."

Rosa swallows down her protests. They sit uneasily in her stomach as she stands by and watches. Churning over and over, frothing and bringing doubts to the surface where they'd once been submerged. Suppressed until now when it becomes impossible to ignore them.

So, she watches in a concealed horror as everything begins to unravel before her.

"It's always the same. And now all this. No more stones. Not more spears. No more slings. No more swords. No more weapons! No more systems! No more! No more superpowers."

A bystander to her own cause.

A bystander even after everything she's endured and endures. All that pressure inside of her skull and yet all she can do is watch as the man who'd brought her in and taught her that being a mutant isn't the end of the world is used against his will.

Yet another pawn in the Apocalypse.

Just like her.

Just like all of them.

They're just pawns to Apocalypse's chessboard and every step they take plays right into his hand. Accepting the irresistible extensions of power, believing promises of a glorious new age, and gifting him their undying loyalty with little question.

Rosa balls her fists at her sides, ensuring her mind is locked tight as she comes into this new realisation.

If Apocalypse knew, he'd surely smite her down as if he's even half the god he pretends to be.

She lets out a shaky breath and glances to Warren, who is still as bound by his anger as he's always been.

But how can she even begin to change his mind?

To sway him away from this promise of mutant superiority? Would it be enough to promise that, even if they do not bring this new age, neither of them will have to live in fear again if they just leave this place and never come back?

She will not leave without him. No, leaving him behind is not an option, but to remain on this side of history would forever haunt her.

As the weaponry of humanity is destroyed all across the world, Warren seems enraptured by the events and she wants nothing more than to shake him out of this fantasy. Bring him into the reality of what they're doing, but she can't.

She can't and she hates that she can't.

So, all that's left to do is pretend. To stand at his side as she has promised to do and pretend to be the Harbinger Apocalypse so desires.

And to remind herself of who she is. Day and night until the time to unleash herself upon the world presents itself. Then, and only then, will she shatter her illusion and become Rosa once again.

-

1623 words
7.3.19

note: just because she's realised how fucked it is to literally cause an apocalypse, she's still in pain and has a lot of anger and bitterness over everything she's been through. don't mistake this change of heart as all of that damage being repaired in one sweep because it's not and might never be.