Warning: this chapter contains the description of a sexual assault. It's violent and even though, in my opinion, there are more explicit fanfictions and stories out there, if you don't want to read that kinda stuff, well, don't read this fic. Also, I want to say that, of course, I don't support or condone this kind of stuff, and I'm not trying to make it look interesting or something, with this fic. It is just that: fiction, a story about something that happens and that it's bad and horrible, but it occurred to me to write a fic with it. It's what villains do: horrible stuff. I had honestly never written anything like this, but here we go.

Chapter 1: Prey.

They were about 10 or 12 feet the ones Rogue's unexpectedly unable to fly body plunged, to land messily on the harsh metal floor.

And it hurt: her right knee started pulsing in pain right away, the side of her hip and elbows not doing much better.

It shouldn't be; she was invulnerable and could fly, plus those other things.

"Always expect the unexpected in the middle of a mission", Cyclops always said. But not this. Regions of her mind were more than ready to start operating on intensive mode about the cause, implications (how long would…?) and consequences of this. They were all shushed.

Rogue was on her feet already, running down the narrow corridor. Whether it be flying, crawling or by foot, she'd do her part of the job.

It wasn't long til she made it to the machinery room, which was supposed to be huge, but it was hard to tell how much, given the dim light around.

Now, she only had to take another corridor to-

"Well, well, well! Look what the, ahem, cat dragged in."

She froze, didn't even breath. Normally, she'd be cracking her knuckles right now, ready to… no, happy to punch this bastard to the next county and back.

"You smell good, frail. Always have."

But not now. She only had her wits (which were already a tad shaky at this point), to get through this.

"Gonna have to give you a closer sniff, how'd you like that?"

Rogue slid like a shadow to the nearest column and crouched behind some machines. The corridor she was to take was on the other side entirely, but that wasn't the number one priority anymore.

That sickening laugh again… going (or echoing?) from one place to the other, so fast she couldn't know for sure if there were dozens of machineries between them, or breathing over the back of her neck already.

"No need to run, girlie. Gonna catch you anyways."

Her jaw tensed, as she forced herself to swallow the two or three smartass comebacks that sprung to mind. Alright, the guy had heightened senses anyway, but the less of an edge she gave him, the better.

"Ahhh, no more running? Howza bout some flying? That's one of your things, ain't it?"

He was close, she could tell.

"And absorbing people or whatever you call it, that's another one."

Nothing around to try to hit him with.

"Too bad all of them tricks of yours are off, ain't that right?"

Only one choice left.

Here goes nothing.

Rogue sprinted out of her hiding spot and headed to the left, which seemed to be the opposite side of where his voice was coming from. She heard a roar that was like a wild animal's, and kept running.

"Never it be said I didn't enjoy a good chase, frail"

He was close enough. It was time.

Stop. Roll on the floor in the opposite direction, as he crashed against an array of industrial machines, tools and who knows what else. Back on her feet, run to the other side.

This was the totality of her plan. A short lived one, she knew it, in its effectiveness.

There was aisle after aisle of metal gear, as Rogue rushed as fast as her currently only human body allowed her to. The realization that not hearing him and therefore not knowing in the slightest where he was, was even worse than having to listen to his shit, hit her soon enough. He could be anywhere, he could-

"See, I was right. You smell even better up close".

She couldn't breathe.

Sabretooth's vicious eyes were gleaming like fire, as he held her up in the air by the neck.

She. Couldn't. Breathe.

She held onto his forearm with both hands, in a futile, mostly instinctive attempt to soften the grip.

She was chocking.

Several kicks reached their goal, but it was like kicking a wall.

"Wanna know what you smell like right now?" he rasped, bringing her closer to his sweaty face.

One, two, four knee strikes, with all of her strength. Nothing.

"You smell like fear, Rogue," he licked his sharp teeth: "And you smell like uncle Creed's dinner."

He tossed her against a pillar like a rag doll, and as much as the collision and landing hurt her bones, her lungs were thankful to finally receive some air.

And there was something else too: a crowbar right there.

To the head would have been better, but still, she achieved a pretty decent wound to the thigh, the metal going in, through and right out of his flesh.

"Fucking bitch."

In some kind of slow motion, Rogue saw his huge hands grab her head like a melon, then felt the smack against the concrete pillar, overwhelming any thought or any other sensation.

It was all blurry now. It felt wet and warm on her forehead. Everything was spinning and dark. From behind a curtain of red fog, she saw him rip out the crowbar from his leg and throw it away.

"Ol' Sabretooth can heal, you know? Can you? Hm?"

Her entire brain was throbbing insider her skull. She at last managed to say something:

"Fuck you."

He chuckled in her ear: "Howza bout the other way around, girlie?"

At first, her mind wouldn't make out exactly what was happening. Everything was just moving, sliding away. Then she was able to look up and front and saw herself being dragged by the ankle, pulled along the metallic floor.

She kicked, then tried to hold on to something, anything.

The void was pulling her down. What…?

Creed was pulling her, still by the ankle, up some stairway, her head and body crashing and hurting at every step.

She held onto whatever thing, maybe a step itself, but he snatched her away with ease.

"Gotta confess something to you, Roguey. I always thought you were kinda appetizing, even with the skank thing on your hair."

They finally reached even ground. She almost didn't realized they entered some kind of maintenance room.

"And I mean ever since your Brotherhood days, 'member that?"

There was a smack. He'd closed the door.

Shaking, Rogue attempted to sit up, then sensed her forehead; her hand came all smeared in blood.

"Ah'll kill yah."

He paid no mind to her threat and kept on pacing all around her.

"But there was always that pesky power of yours. Can't be touched and all those shenanigans. Good thing we don't have that problem right now, don't you agree?"

Up until this point, it hadn't occurred to her. Maybe she was too used to be the untouchable one, and the super strong one. She'd never have to worry about finding herself in a situation like this one, with some revolting scumbag on top of her, struggling pointlessly, being helpless as her usually trusty powers had abandoned her, trying to find traces of them in her, in comparison, small muscles, hoping her skin would remember even if a little bit of how to protect her.

Stupid as it sounds, yes, it only now occurred to her that he didn't want to just punch her, fight her, maybe kill her, defeat her in battle, X-Man vs. villain style.

He wanted to…

He was going to…

"Let's see if you taste as good as you smell."

He pinned both of her arms to the ground, over her head. There was a crack, she could hear it clearly, and a stabbing ache in one of her wrists. With his free hand he went over her temple, then tasted her blood.

"Nice and sweet, just how I-"

She spat on his face. It just made him grin wider:

"Always the fiery one, ain't ya? Damn it, you're giving me a tremendous hard on, Rogue."

Her body didn't exist anymore. It was just a heavy, unbearable burden attached to her, as he licked her entire face.

Kick him use your knees low blow Danger Room session training do something kick him

From what seemed like another, maybe parallel universe, she saw him pull out his claws and rip off her X-Men uniform shirt.

Kick him please kick him spit on him again scream

"Now Imma give you a good reason to scream."

Tears merged with the blood of her face. He'd given her one raw clawing right across the torso. It burned like hell.

Hell's not even close.

Scream maybe someone will come maybe they're all powerless anyway but it'd be a distraction at least keep struggling punch him scratch him pull his hair scream

These shapeless ideas stumbled against each other in her mind, gaping at his hideous frame, licking and sucking the blood from the wounds on her chest and stomach.

"Now you be a good girl and stay still... No? Alright."

The world shook and bounced inside her head, outside of it as well, her cheek and jaw reaching levels of pain she'd never imagined would exist. It was like it was compensating all at once, for all of the pain her invulnerability had spared her over the years. The metallic taste of blood was in her mouth now, too.

She couldn't see or hear much. Only from far away, this image of him undoing the button and zipper of her pants and pulling them down, registered in some part of her brain.

Kick

She tried. She really tried with what was left of her strengths. And seems like it worked, cause he reciprocated with a fist to the gut that almost left her unconscious, this time for real.

Not possible to move anymore. It all hurt too much.

She did hear something: the clacking (click, clack, clack.) of his belt as he undid it. And his laugh:

"Ain't this what you always wanted? I'm doing you a favor here."

She had to spit out some more blood, or else she would have chocked with it.

Then, everything went red.

Even redder. Purple?

Note: I pondered for a while about Rogue actually being kind of helpless without her powers against Sabretooth. Then I remembered that in the comics, he pretty much eviscerated Psylocke, a ninja telepath. So, yes, it wouldn't be too farfetched to think he'd be able to do this to a powerless Rogue.