Disclaimer: I do not own.
Author's Notes: This is a sequel to Saturday Morning, where Rogue takes her stepdaughter out for a day on the town. Both stories are set during the X-Treme era, when Rogue and Gambit are powerless. They've briefly retired to a Valle Soleada, California, where Gambit is tracked down by his daughter, Honor. "Johnny" is her godfather, who helped her find Gambit after Belle's death. This story has a little more angst and slightly more mature themes than Morning, so I decided to post it separately. Please R&R!
SaturDay Nite
Jean-Luc had to wrestle the boy out of his clothes. Henri was right – he wasn't worth the trouble! If Remy wanted to smell like shit, Jean-Luc was half-obliged to let him! Of course, it wasn't Remy's fault that he didn't trust Jean-Luc or think he needed a bath. No, he had learned these things, and it would be very hard to un-learn them. As the clothes came off, the scars became visible. Remy wouldn't discuss them… Perhaps he thought he'd been born with them.
Jean-Luc clamped down on Remy's neck to keep his still in the tub of warm water. It had been hot, but in the time it took to actually get him into the tub, the water had since gone cool. Even the luke-warm water frightened Remy. He said it was too hot; Jean-Luc was trying to cook him, he'd said. Jean-Luc was patient with the boy, telling him stories about his own youth while scrubbing behind Remy's ears. He had to rinse his hair out with a large cup, and his soft, cinnamon-colored hair fell past his pointed chin. And after the bath, Remy got a haircut. He sat quietly for that – maybe he'd run himself rugged fighting against the bath. Next, Jean-Luc wanted to cut his fingernails. They were long and jagged with black dirt caked beneath them. Remy didn't protest this, either. The two of them set patiently in the parlor while the Guildmaster cut and filed a child's nails.
His exhaustive day was well worth the trouble. True to his word, Jean-Luc gave Remy his very own bed with a big, soft pillow and big, clean blankets
Honor brushed her teeth, rinsed her mouth out, and then inspected her pearly whites. She had her mother's top teeth. Her two front teeth were very straight and stood out slightly further from the rest, just like Belle's. Apparently, they passed the test, because she turned and joined her father in the doorway.
"Ready for bed?" Remy asked her.
The guest bedroom that Remy and Rogue had set up for her was nicer than the hotels Honor had been staying in for the last several months… When she got a hotel room at all. But this room wasn't hers any more than those rented rooms had been. She hoped that one day soon, Remy would offer to buy her a new bedspread – one she'd picked out.
They knelled beside the bed, folded their hands and closed their eyes. But Honor knew Remy wouldn't pray. He never did. She didn't mind praying for him.
"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, in Heaven, as on earth. Absolve, we beseech Thee, O Lord, de soul of Thy servant, Momma, from every bond of sin, dat being raised in de glory of de resurrection, she may be refreshed among de Saints and Elect. T'rough Christ our Lord. Amen."
"Amen," Remy echoed, glad she hadn't thanked God for Rogue and Remy, said a prayer for Johnny and another for the Guild in New Orleans. When she was feeling frisky, she'd thank God for every breath and luxury. She was careful not to ask for too much, but she always asked for her mother's salvation.
He softly tucked the covers around her neck and shoulders. She smiled up at him, completely content with her place in the world.
"Now where were we?" He asked, stroking his chin with concentration. He wasn't good at many things, at least not many things he could share with his daughter, but he was good at weaving tales. She loved stories and he loved talking about himself, so this was something they could bond over.
So much of the time, she was sullen and quiet. He couldn't blame her. Considering everything she'd suffered recently, she was coping rather well. But he loved making her smile, and stories at bed time made her whole face brighten. She was bubbling with excitement when she reminded him: "Cassim broke int' de place and seduced de princess t' get her jewels. But she fell in love wit' him and asked him t' take her wit' him, 'cause she didn't wanna marry de wicked General Khalid! And you were gonna tell me t'night whether or not he took her wit' him."
"What you t'ink happen?"
"Mais… I know Cassim wouldn't take her. He couldn't. He's too good a t'ief, and de princess is too important. But I'd like to t'ink she left wit' him, and dey had adventures in de desert t'gether."
"Like what?"
"Like… Maybe Cassim took de princess t' meet de sorcerer who raised 'm. He'd have t' teach her how t' rob and fight and stuff. Being a princess, she wouldn't know how to do any of dat."
"You're right. Dey did all dat stuff t'gether."
"Did he teach her his magic?"
"Of course. He loved de princess, too. When you love someone, you wanna share everyt'ing wit' dem. And it came in real handy when a sand storm threatened t' destroy Mecca."
"Is dat de story?"
"Not t'night," he said casually. "Just know all dat stuff happened. Cassim and de princess met up wit' his old marauder band – remember dem? – and dey decided t' hit Pharaoh's boat on de way down de Nile. Cassim was worried his princess would see all de beautiful jewels and wanna go back t' her old life wit' bon-bon's and servants. It ain't easy bein' a pirate's wife."
"Is dat what happened?" Honor asked.
"Non. It was somet'ing much worse. De General Khalid found out Cassim and de princess would be stealin', so he cursed a necklace dat he knew de princess would keep. She fought de curse for several nights, but eventually de D'jinn attached t' de necklace possessed her. It made her drive Cassim deep int' de Sahara and leave 'm dere. Den she went back t' de General."
"But Cassim could use his magic," Honor offered.
Remy shook his head. "Nothin' but sand, petite."
"Didn't she come t' her senses?"
"Of course. But by den, it was too late. De Sahara a big place! He get lost real easy!"
"What happened?" she asked, sitting up and leaning forward. She folded her hands in a display of patience, but he could hear her breath quicken.
"It's very tragic. I don' know if maybe-"
"Don't make me wait until tomorrow, Remy!" She pleaded, grabbing his hand. "Come on, how bad could it be? He's been lost in de dessert before!"
"Oh, dis time was much worse…"
"How could it be worse den last time? Last time de armies killed his father and cut off Cassim's toes. Dey drove him out of de city like a dog! Even his oncles turned him away, and he was just a petit garcon!"
"For t'ree days, he wondered de dessert," said Remy. "Dat might not sound so bad, but t'ree days wit'out water or shelter will kill a man in de Sahara. His skin turned black and his tongue swelled up in his mouth. Sometimes he t'ought he felt cool again, but it was just his nerves dyin'. And de sand got everywhere. It got in his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Oh, he was so hungry. He was dyin' a' hunger and thrist. He woulda given all his thoughts and magic for a cup of water and loaf of bread."
"But de worst part was his broken heart, wasn't it?" she quietly asked. She suddenly seemed so much older than her eleven years: so much wiser. Johnny said she got this way sometimes. He called it "Otherworldly", and Remy felt a chill from her sudden change. They'd gone from talking about stories to very real and painful experiences.
"Oui, petite. Dat was de worst part."
She turned her head slightly away and he saw tears on her face.
"What's de matter?" he asked, resisting the urge to cradle her. Too often, he wanted to treat her like an infant. She wasn't really a child or an adult, though, and he had no idea how to handle her.
"I just… Don't like hearing about my papa hurtin'," her voice trembled like a little girl's.
It was the first time she'd called him by anything other than his name, and he was deeply touched. Throwing his uncertainties and inhibitions aside, he wiped her tears away and held her close.
"It's okay," he said lightly. "I got out in one piece."
"Cómo? Didn't you want to crawl in a cave and die? De princess tried t' kill you!"
He smiled at her and the worry eased from her eyes a little. "Cassim did crawl int' a cave wit' de intentions of dyin'. He said his death prayers. And as he lay dyin', he thought about de princess. He thought about a lot of t'ings… Those close t' dying can see t'ings de livin' can't. So while Cassim was in de cave, he saw his guardian angel. De angel told Cassim he could not die because he had no soul."
"He sold it for magic," Honor remembered.
"Cassim t'ought his soul went t' hell," said Remy, "But hell is for de body, not de soul. De angel told him his soul now lived in a little girl in Mecca. She was an orphan, just like Cassim. She was pure, and needed Cassim's help. De angel gave him two choices: he could take Cassim's body t' Heaven or Cassim could stay on earth and find his soul. De first one was easy. All he had t' do was take de angel's hand and be led away. De second wasn't easy. But it was de only way t' make up for all de terrible t'ings he'd done." He paused and looked at his watch, "And dat's it for t'night."
Honor smiled smugly. "I know how dis one ends."
He pushed her hair away from her forehead and kissed it. "G'night, catin."
"Noches, Papa."
He softly closed the door and walked down the hallway to the living quarters. He had to walk through the kitchen to reach the living room, where he expected to find Rogue. Instead, she was at the sink, washing dishes with compressed rage.
"Y' alright, chere?"
"Fine."
He shook his head and moved into the living room. She must've overheard him telling Honor his child-friendly version of what happened in Antarctica. He wouldn't apologize for it. Honor needed to know (she had a right to), and he'd rather tell her about it himself than have someone else tell her. Rogue probably felt cheated because he hadn't included her true reason for leaving him: his role in the Morlock Massacre. Sometimes that girl really was too naïve for her own good. Honor's mother was a professional killer. When she finally learned the details of that horrible day, she wouldn't bat an eye. Death and murder were just parts of life for her. It was certainly no excuse for Rogue's behavior. At least to Honor, betrayal was much worse than killing.
"Ah heard ya on the phone with Storm," Rogue said at last.
He turned and looked at her. While 'On was cooking dinner and Rogue was setting the table, Remy made a quick call to New York. He'd told the X-Men about his daughter and asked Stormy to be her godmother. What was she so pissed about?
"And?" He replied.
"So what am Ah like?" she asked bitterly.
He barked out a laugh. Stormy knew Rogue better than Rogue did, apparently. What kind of a person gets jealous over a little girl who's lost everything and everyone she's ever known, and is suddenly dumped on a man she's never met? Rogue did. It was true: he spent more time with Honor, and he worked very hard to earn her trust and love. If Rogue didn't understand why he was completely committed to his child, then she was even more naïve than he thought. They'd moved to California with the agreement of a trial relationship, but she didn't act that way. She expected him to come home every night, not to flirt with other women, and involve her in his plans. She was even worse since Honor arrived. Rogue expected an automatic place in their family, but he didn't think she deserved one. Sometimes she was helpful, like taking Honor clothes shopping today, but an occasional hand didn't make her Honor's guardian. Honor needed someone who could be committed to her, regardless of Remy. She needed someone like Stormy.
"Y' a little green today, and it doesn't suit you," he told her.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You got somet'ing t' say, chere, just say it."
"Storm ain't even met her yet! Ah'm the one with her every day! Ah'm the one givin' her advice and treachin' her how to be a lady. Ah know this ain't exactly something you planned on, but it'd be nice to know you at least want me in her life!"
"Y' right about one t'ing, I didn't plan on dis. How many kids you raised? 'Cause I know I'm makin' it up as we go along."
"Ya ain't gotta guess all by yourself! Ah can help. Ah don't know why ya think you've gotta do everything alone… It's because of what Johnny said, ain't it? Belle never brought her beaus around Honor, so you wanna raise her the same way. Is that it?"
"Non, Rogue. Look, I love you, chere. I've always wanted somet'ing more den what we got – whatever dis is. And as long as you're in my life, I want you in Honor's life, too. But dat girl's too good for me. When I was her age, I couldn't spell m' own name! She puts down 800 pages like nursery rhymes! De best I can do is put her wit' people good enough for her. I want her t' go t' medical school and put a man on Jupiter and build de world's biggest library. De rest of m' life is gonna be about dat. Is dat what you want?"
In her bedroom, Honor could hear every word. She waited in the dark for Rogue's answer, but it never came. Finally, she heard her father gently let Rogue off the hook.
"You only twelve years older den she is," he said. "You're just as confused about who you are and what you want. I want you t' stay wit' me more den anyt'ing, chere, but I ain't got time for games. If dat's all you want, you need t' find someone else t' play."
"It ain't that, Remy. Ah just… Ah feel like she's replaced me. How can I stay with a man who doesn't love me?"
"You can't," he replied.
Silence filled their tiny house by the ocean. In her room, Honor lie still in her bed. Tears had soaked her pillow. She understood why her mother never invited men into her life. Relationships were upsetting. What couldn't Rogue just accept Remy for who he was? Why did she constantly put demands on him? And why did he continue to build her hopes up, knowing he couldn't make her happy?
Honor sat up and wiped her face dry. All her weeping had caused her sinuses to close up – she couldn't breathe now. She sniffed a few times, but it didn't help. So she crawled out of bed to get some tissue from the bathroom. There was a soft night-light in the hallway, but the rest of the house was dark. She could hear something in the kitchen, but she couldn't be sure what it was. Peaking quietly around the corner, she wasn't even sure what she saw until they fell to the floor.
"Honor!" Remy shouted. "Go t' your room!"
She gasped and turned around so quickly that she ran into the wall. It made a loud bang as they scrambled to pull their clothes back on. She ran all the way back to her room and slammed the door. It didn't have a lock, so she pushed the dresser in front of it. She forgot about the lamp on top, and it crashed and broke nosily on the floor. Then she crawled under her covers and sobbed whole-heartedly. Predictably, Remy did come to her door and try to apologize, but she didn't answer. More than anything in the world, she just wanted her mother back.