Slight Return

Part One

** This story is a continuation of the Magnetic Attraction and Darkness Within story arc (which I encourage you to read first so you know what's going on, lol). There are probably (most definitely) going to be some mentions of suicide, themes of depression (although nowhere near as severe as the previous stories), and most definitely mentions of sex and sexual situations. So, I'd say if any of these are triggers, just keep yourself prepared that something may pop up every now and then.

I hope you'll all enjoy this instalment. Thank you to those who made the previous two stories such a joy to write. On with the story :) **

Remy LeBeau was shaken awake abruptly from sleep; it seemed he'd just barely shut his eyes and it was time to wake up.

It was Jean Grey's hand upon his shoulder. The red-head had shaken him awake and as he opened his eyes to look at her blearily in his exhaustion; he'd expected to see his bedroom, but he realised instead found himself in the Blackbird on the journey home from their mission. He'd fallen asleep unintentionally, but he supposed sleep had to be taken when he could get it these days.

"We're home," she said gently.

"Already?" he mumbled wearily, he tried to straighten up in his seat suddenly aware the straps to the seat harness had been cutting into him and as he released the buckles suddenly he felt the discomfort it had left.

"I don't know how you can like, just fall asleep anywhere," muttered Kitty Pryde who was getting out of her own seat.

"Just gifted, I suppose," he commented, fighting the absolute fatigue as he got up.

"I don't get it, the noise and any kind of turbulence remotely disturb you. That's not normal," Kitty muttered.

"I've fallen asleep in some pretty messed up places over the years, petit. A little old supersonic jet ain't gonna break my forty-winks," he smirked at her, then left the Blackbird, having to hold onto any surface nearby just to keep himself upright.

While he'd gained back most of the stamina over the past few months, he still exhausted easily. Working from five in the morning until midday cleaning motel rooms (slightly less tiring the two hour longer shift he'd had until May), an hour or two of training and working out and then to top it off an hour of Danger Room...all of these things added up and left him drained at the end of the day.

Missions added to that list.

Remy supposed he should count himself lucky to be able to work on adrenaline and nerves; during missions he rarely ever felt the strain or exhaustion pulling at him. After missions happened to be a different matter, he called it the after-mission hangover, as usually for a day or so after each mission, practically every muscle would ache and he'd feel so tired that he'd have to load himself with coffee and Red Bull just to get through it.

It had only been the past month that his condition had really begun to improve; he almost felt like he were back to his old self again. His agility was reasonably near to where it had been, his strength and stamina were getting better every day; the only thing that had really proven to be a problem were his powers. It had been almost nine months since Rogue had drained him and left him nearly dead. After his three month coma, he'd spent five months recovering and almost everything but his powers had returned to him. Not his natural charm, not his inhuman agility and certainly not his kinetic charge; playing cards wouldn't do much more with a charge than give a faint fizzle and pop. Fire crackers were more dangerous...in fact, Remy suspected that the exploding caps in toy guns were probably more lethal than the pathetic bangs his powers would produce.

But powers or not, he'd stuck with the X-Men and had proven himself invaluable regardless of his inability to blow things up. As long as he was able, he hadn't let the lack of powers stop him from being there in the midst of action. In fact, it was all he looked forward to these days.

The after-mission hangover, however, he wasn't looking forward to, and he could already feel it coming on.

"Are you all right?" asked Ororo Munro as she caught his elbow as he staggered a little. The backs of his thigh muscles ached from having been running.

"Just sleepy. I'll be fine," he forced a smile hoping she'd leave it at that. Since he'd awakened from his coma in February everyone had been treating him as if he were delicate and feeble, and it had only become worse after he'd gotten himself beaten up while drunk in March. Regardless of recovery, he still felt them looking at him, could see the little cogs of their minds turning as they tried to determine whether he was going to relapse or not.

He had no intentions of relapsing.

"The first few months of being in the field can be exhausting," admitted Ororo, her tone revealed she too was exhausted.

"How long before it isn't an issue any more?" Remy wondered aloud.

"That is hard to say, due to your unique situation," Ororo admitted, "but you are improving."

Remy followed the team across the hangar, their footsteps loud and clunky upon the steel floors, their voices a mumble amongst each other. They all climbed into the reasonably large elevator which was required to take them from the hangar to the mansion; just as the door closed, the sound of Professor Xavier's voice blasted out of the speaker in the wall which had begun malfunctioning as of late.

"X-Men, I would like to call you for a team meeting in the War Room," the Professor requested.

Remy leaned against the wall and groaned in his exhaustion. He'd been hoping to get to his pillow; the clock on the wall already said it was just past one in the morning, he'd barely get three or so hours of slumber before he'd have to be up to get ready to go to work.

"Right now?"asked Scott Summers as he hit the speak button on the wall; even he seemed to be thinking the same thing. No one wanted to be up longer than they had to be, they all wanted to get to bed.

"Yes, if you please. It won't take long."

Remy felt a strange churn in his stomach, instinct told him that if the Professor were holding an emergency meeting at the War Room at this hour, then it had to be important. There was always a debrief generally after missions, but when a mission returned at this time of night, usually it was only the instructors who were required to be there for it.

When it was the entire team however...that meant business.

Wonder what's goin' on? We expectin' to be ambushed or...somethin' bad gonna happen? Gotta be big if he's draggin' us into the war room at this time of the night.

The elevator moved up to the sub-basement rather than further up to the mansion level, and Remy let himself be the last to leave the elevator, trying to gather strength. The war room had been renovated as of late at least by an extra fifteen feet to accommodate a larger table in the centre, and the walls had all been panelled with new computers and screens, all of which Remy found daunting to look at.

Eventually I'm gonna be trained to use that shit, he thought dully as he dropped into a high backed leather chair at the table; at least the chairs were comfortable he supposed.

The Professor moved from the touch screen computer panel he'd been working at and he wheeled across to the table, taking his place at the one spot a chair had been deliberately missed out of to accommodate him. "How was the mission?"

Remy only listened half-interestedly as Ororo and Scott debriefed him on the details of the mission, he let his eyes travel over the room absently, wondering if he'd ever know how to operate half of the technology here.

When the mission debrief had ended some five minutes later, Remy had almost for one moment thought that perhaps this might have been all the Professor had wanted to bring them in for. Perhaps there was nothing important to discuss. Unfortunately he was mistaken.

"Now that we have that out of the way," the Professor leaned forward on the table, hands clasped together, "there's something we must discuss."

"What is it, Professor?" asked Jean, her expression troubled. She seemed to be reading something from the Professor, Remy wasn't sure if it was in his eerily calm face or if she'd picked up something telepathically. He wasn't sure he cared either; he dropped his eyes to the table top and lightly let his fingers graze upon the touch screen monitor that had been embedded into the table, the screen lit up and asked for a password.

Come on, for gods sake, I'm beat. Want to sleep, he thought frustratedly.

"Rogue is coming home."

Remy's eyes raised quickly from the touchscreen to the Professor; he wasn't sure why his stomach tightened. The serious look on the Professor's face said it all. Yes, this is why the meeting was so urgent. Matters like this had to be discussed.

How many months had it been since she'd gone? Remy had to think about it. It'd been the very end of March? Beginning of April? He hadn't kept track properly, there were too many things happening in his life to be able to keep up. Four months or five? Did it matter? What mattered was that she'd left...and now apparently, after all this time she was returning home.

She hadn't even said goodbye to him, but he supposed he hadn't expected her to either. It'd been his idea to stay away from each other, why would she make the effort to even say she was going? He wasn't sure when the decision had been made or whom exactly had made it that Rogue would be taken to Muir Island as part of her recovery. He'd only become aware of it the day after when at dinner he'd heard the younger students whispering about it. He'd noticed her absence of course but he'd assumed she was being kept in the cell to further deter her from harming herself. It hadn't occurred to him she was gone.

Remy wasn't sure where exactly Muir Island might be in Scotland but the fact it was an island gave him a rough inkling that it was probably very remote. Probably North, he thought distractedly.

The fact he had never heard of Muir Island or seen it on any map (not that he had ever spent time looking at maps or paid attention in geography on the rare occasions he had gone to school) said to him that perhaps there was some reason it was deliberately omitted from maps. Perhaps it was like Area 51...he'd look it up on Google Earth and all he'd see was blank spots where detail should have been.

His thoughts were broken when Kitty blurted, "Already?"

"Already?" asked Kurt with a strange grunt, "It's been four months...you think she needed years of being locked away on that place?"

"That wasn't what I meant," Kitty frowned a little, "I just mean...it's been fast...you know? It hasn't seemed like much time at all..."

Remy listened but said nothing, he took out his playing cards and began shuffling expertly without even looking at his hands. Shuffling and keeping his hands busy helped with the cigarette cravings, he wasn't particularly sure it was going to help with the anxiety of this news though. Rogue coming back wasn't good news.

For days after Rogue had tried to stab herself in the eye at breakfast everyone had been on edge, including the younger students who had been there to witness it. Days after she'd left rumours and speculations had gone on between them, and discussions about how there had been other suicide attempts in the past. Remy wasn't sure how the younger students had really known about those attempts other than possible eavesdropping or snooping.

Either way, four days after Rogue had gone, everyone had been pulled into a meeting and told the truth. Remy still remembered the Professor's words about how Rogue had been suffering for some time, and now she was going to Muir Island to recover, that the rumours, discussions and speculations needed to end, and punishments would be handed out if anyone was caught discussing it.

So for these four or five months Rogue had never been mentioned. It was almost as if she hadn't existed. Oh, Remy was fully well she had...everyone was. There might have been no mention of Rogue, no one had been informed of how she was, but her presence somehow still lingered in everyone, it was always there in that empty seat at the dinner table, the ghost of her seemed to hang around.

Sometimes at dinner, Remy saw students look at butter knives and he was able to tell what they were thinking without the power of telepathy. Even with Rogue gone the rules about having pills in the house had not slacked by any stretch; anyone with a headache or pulled muscle still had to go through Hank or the Professor just to get so much as a mild paracetamol or ibuprofen. Remy supposed it were just as well that the pill rule hadn't changed, for Kitty's sake, although no one else had ever discovered her problem.

How's Kitty gonna be when Rogue gets back? Remy wondered to himself, making sure not to even throw a glance towards the girl; he was concerned that someone might pick upon it and then try to pick up on what he was thinking. He had to be careful now. Ever since Jean had managed to get into his head he'd never quite been able to settle in the company of telepaths.

It took weed to get relaxed enough to get Jean inside my head but what if while she was in there she left a door or window open? What if she can get in now any time she likes and know what I'm thinking? He worried. Is that paranoid?

Piotr, who had been quiet up until this point, spoke up, "Is Rogue feeling better now?"

He'd been the first to ask what Remy thought the others who did know her better, who had been reasonably close to her should have asked. He felt almost guilty that he hadn't asked it himself. He supposed if he weren't deliberately trying to keep a distance from Rogue or thoughts of her, he might have.

"Rogue is making excellent progress with her recovery," the Professor assured.

"I don't want to sound negative, Professor," Kitty sniffed a little, "but...it seems a little, I don't know, like...soon."

Scott agreed, "yeah, I mean...four months is barely anything. It's not that I don't want to see her back. I'd be glad to see her back on the team, but...is she actually ready to come back?"

Remy felt Scott's eyes on him, he understood what Scott meant. What he means is...is Rogue ready to come back while I'm here, he thought dully.

"Everyone thinks she's ready, but time will tell," Professor Xavier put gently, "we'll all be able to tell how ready she is when she comes back tomorrow."

Tomorrow? Remy blinked at the revelation. That soon?

"So..." Kitty cleared her throat a little, she took a breath then carefully said, "what...happens...then?"

Remy understood the question. It was what she wasn't saying that was the real question. Would there still be suicide watches? Would there still be locking in cells? Would Kitty be awakened several times a night with nightmares? It was the unasked questions that she wanted answered.

"We'll play it by ear," said the Professor frankly.

"Play it by ear?" Kitty blurted out, "are you freakin' kiddin' me?"

Clearly not the answer she wanted, Remy might have been amused by the reaction if he hadn't been subjected to Rogue's episodes himself. It wasn't funny when you knew how it felt to see the pain first hand, and had had to be a part of it in the process, had it affect your life as well.

"Kitty," Ororo hushed her.

"Rogue is making marvellous progress with her recovery," Hank spoke up; Remy raised his head to see him walking in, "in fact, I've just spoken to her on the phone and she's looking forward to coming home. She sounded very optimistic."

"You just talked to her on the phone?" Piotr asked, "it is almost one thirty in the morning..." he looked at his watch.

"Time zones," Remy muttered, shuffling his cards idly. He supposed even Piotr should have been aware of time zones, but then again, it was one thirty, he must have been tired too. Not everyone was at their most bright at this time of the morning.

"Oh," Piotr's face went slightly pink and he stared down to the table sullenly having made such a fool of himself.

Remy caught Kitty give him a strange quick glance; it was brief and Remy wasn't sure what to make of it. She hadn't given the boy much more than a brief glance in months. They worked well together in the Danger room and in the field but it was as much interaction as they ever had. At breakfast and dinner they were strangers, they didn't say more than two words to each other except 'pass the salt' or 'are you finished with that?'.

But Kitty and Piotr were not the important issue right now, the important issue was that Rogue was coming back, and Remy had to prepare himself mentally for whatever was coming. Her depression and revelations had tipped him into a pit of despair, even after she'd left he'd found it hard to pull himself back out. He'd become withdrawn and quiet.

He'd refused to go to therapy at the Professor's request. Jean had even tried to persuade him to talk to her about his feelings but he'd declined; even when she had suggested that she try to break into his thoughts again to unlock other memories.

For a while, Remy had almost considered it. There were things he had wondered about for weeks after Rogue had gone, there were things he was sometimes certain he may have to know. But unlocking memories with Jean meant being able to unwind enough to let her, and the only way he knew how to do that was with marijuana, which he was determined to steer clear from as well as alcohol. Neither of these things seemed to bring anything good to his life.

Besides, once bitten, twice shy. He'd tried chasing down memories and asked for revelations before and he'd been burned; those burns were still trying to heal. He didn't want to go down that road again, life had been far less complicated and less painful not knowing about the past than trying to dredge it up again. Some people were just better moving forwards than moving backwards, and he had decided he was one of those people.

"I think what Kitty was asking," Jean began, breaking Remy's train of thoughts as she spoke to the Professor, "is...what procedures will there be?"

Professor Xavier took a moment to consider the question, "for the time being, there'll be some supervision, although not as it had been."

"So...suicide watch?" Scott asked.

"No, not at all."

"She's doing that well?" asked Kitty, her blue eyes wide with surprise.

"Moira believes so," said the Professor, "the therapists who have been working with her are optimistic."

Remy started constructing a house of cards on the table top just in front of the touch screen monitor, he listened pretending to be only half interested.

Professor Xavier continued, "the rules about medication and pills here still stand, of course. And of course, the locking away the stronger household cleaning products, bleach and drain cleaner..." he explained, "as optimistic as I am too, I do not want to put my full trust in Rogue given previous experience. I'm sure many of you feel the same."

No one denied feeling it, Remy couldn't blame them.

"Right now, it is hard to determine if Rogue's recovery will change upon her return, but I ask you all to be vigilant and watch out for any of the usual signs," Hank spoke up, "if she seems tearful, or nervous, or starts showing any signs of anxiety, then come the Professor or myself...if you can't find either of us, Logan or Ororo will deal with the concerns. If any unusual behaviour from Rogue starts occurring, that too should be brought to our attention."

"What kind of unusual behaviour?" Piotr asked curiously.

"Anything you think might be a sign of stress or anxiety," Hank explained, "I can give you some reading material to refer to if you're not sure."

"Will she be rejoining the team straight away?" asked Kurt.

Hank paused for a moment, he seemed unsure how to answer, he glanced down to the Professor.

"For the time being, no. Not immediately. I've been told she's been undergoing some training, but I'd like her to spend time in the Danger Room with the rest of you so I can access exactly how she'll cope in the field."

Remy yawned, unable to hold back from doing so, exhaustion was weighing him down, this meeting was taking forever. He was eager to get to bed before more talk of Rogue ended up keeping him up all night with worries about what would happen when she did return.

"You must all be tired," the Professor realised, "let me end the meeting by just saying that I beg of you to all be patient and understanding with Rogue but to be watchful. There may be some hard feelings between some of you, but try not to let these cloud your judgement."

Remy wasn't sure what to make of that request, it seemed slightly backwards. Was he supposed to be vigilant and watchful, or was he supposed to not let past experience make him assume something would happen. Regardless of what he was being told, he had already decided that his best course of action was to steer clear of the girl. The more distance, the better.

"You may all go now," the Professor smiled, "good night."

The X-Men filtered out of the room and up to the mansion; there were questions burning on their lips but they were all too tired to ask them, and the subject matter was still a little too raw to touch upon right now any way. Remy supposed in the morning at breakfast they would probably all be discussing it; he wouldn't have to be there thankfully, he'd be at work by then.

He began the long and tiring walk to his attic room, accompanying Kitty Pryde along the way as her room (the one she'd soon be sharing with Rogue again) was almost directly below his.

Fantastic, he suddenly realised. When Rogue starts screamin' in her sleep, I'll be getting woke up too.

It was halfway down the hall that Kitty finally spoke, "I can't believe she's coming back so soon."

He'd hoped she wouldn't say it, he'd been begging her silently that she just not mention it at all, but he supposed eventually she was going to vent and he understood why it would be him that she went to with it. The others were fine as an ear and a shoulder, but Kitty seemed to feel an unspoken bond toward him in particular. He could only fathom that it was due to his being dragged down with Rogue's behaviour and depression just as much as she had been.

"Yeah..." was all he could offer in the way of reply. He was too tired for this conversation.

"Do you think it'll all start again?" Kitty asked quietly.

"I don't know," Remy responded. If it does, I suppose I always have the option to leave...'course, that makes all the months I've spent here workin' to join the team and get back to how I was basically for nothin'.

"What are you gonna do?"

Remy stopped and turned to look at the petite brunette, her eyes were so wide and worried. He wasn't sure what she was asking exactly, was she asking what he would do if it did happen, or what he intended to do in general. Either way, he had an answer for both, "gonna keep my distance, I suppose."

"Keep your distance from her? For real?" Kitty folded her arms and sighed, "you live in the same house, you work on the same team...you eat at the same dinner table," she reminded.

"Works for you and Pete," Remy pointed out carefully, "and you guys work together just fine."

Kitty frowned a little and she pushed off towards her room, he walked a little behind her. She said nothing else to his comment about Piotr, but she continued the discussion about Rogue, "What do you think she'll be like?"

"Don't know," Remy sighed, growing tired with this already.

"Hank said she sounded optimistic."

"I don't think I've ever heard Rogue sound optimistic since I met the girl."

"She's always been kind of down in the dumps...I mean she's had her moments," Kitty shrugged, "but like...optimistic? What if it's just the drugs they're throwing down her throat? Pills aren't going to fix that."

Remy thought it a little ironic that Kitty was so quick to judge Rogue for taking prescriptions to help with her depression and anxiety after all the self-medicating she herself had done. Then again, he supposed Kitty knew more than anyone how a pill wasn't a magic cure-all.

Instead of arguing the point with the girl, Remy shrugged and responded with "Guess time will tell."

"Are...there going to be any hard feelings?" Kitty asked as she stopped at her bedroom door.

Remy looked away from the girl, he supposed there would be. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, he still felt some animosity towards Rogue; she'd blamed him for her condition. He understood that it had been in the heat of the moment, he understood that it was only in retaliation; it was as effective as a punch in the face for his telling her he didn't love her back.

He'd accepted it, he understood perfectly, but whether she meant it or not, it still stung. There were definitely going to be hard feelings. For that and for many other reasons. Not only was he still without a good portion of his power, but he was still suffering with sexual dysfunction; it was a problem he was very aware of would have never occurred if not for that coma.

At times he had to remind himself that he had to accept some responsibility for the coma; he'd been told that he'd made a decision on his own to be there for Rogue when she emerged from the evolution, that he'd been a willing participant in letting her kiss him to test her newly evolved powers.

Didn't matter though, there were still going to be hard feelings. Suppose somethin' should be hard, he mused. He'd been trying to joke to himself about it far too much as of late, because it was all he was really capable of doing.

Fuck, he realised quite suddenly as he leaned against the wall near Kitty's door. Rogue's return wouldn't just bring animosity, it would also bring complication. It was an unfortunate side effect from everything, he'd decided, that regardless of his inability to feel remotely attracted to Rogue, somehow his body seemed to think the opposite. Spontaneous reactions and intense arousal had become a nuisance in Rogue's presence for that last week or so and it had only been after learning they'd had a brief experimental past that he'd ever gotten from start to finish without any hindrance.

But he'd sworn to himself he wasn't going there again. Afterwards he'd felt guilty for days and he'd avoided thinking of her like that again, it hadn't felt right. Especially not considering how stupid he'd been in leading her on by pulling her to his bed and grinding against her until he'd come to his senses.

The thought that her return may cause some complications and some discomfort suddenly troubled him.

"Remy?" Kitty asked.

"Sorry, what?" he blinked himself out of his thoughts and stared down at her again.

"You were away in a dream..." Kitty replied.

"Yeah, pretty much," Remy admitted, "head was in a dream and I think my body wants to go join it now," he pushed himself away from the wall, "I'm off to bed, suggest you do the same."

At least he had avoided answering the question, he thought almost smugly as he went through the nearby closet and through the hidden passage up to the attic space. His room was how he'd left it when he'd been dragged out of bed three and a half hours earlier; the blankets were a mess, the pillows on the floor, the bedside lamp was on but it lay on its side on the cabinet from where he'd knocked it over in his bleary-eyed attempt to get to the closet to reach where he'd left his uniform.

While undressing, the pack of cards he'd been shuffling fell from the pocket on his belt; he hadn't clipped it properly and the contents spilled. Most of the cards fell face down to the hardwood floor, except from two. The Joker was one of them, a card he'd always been told was his card (although he often liked to pretend it was the Ace of Spades) and the Queen of Hearts.

Memories rushed back of being in Louisiana with Rogue. He'd once given her the Queen of Hearts, the card he always left until last to use with his powers. The card that always got him out of sticky situations. When he'd given her that card he'd made an indirect promise to her, and a direct promise to himself inwardly that he'd watch out for her, he'd protect her.

And there, on the floor, the Joker and the Queen of Hearts were together, as if it were a reminder of that promise that in the end had been far too hard to keep.

He gave a grunt and looked up to the ceiling to speak to God, whom he didn't actually believe in but had to have had some kind of sick hand in this.

"You're a sick son of a bitch, you know that?" he uttered, and with that, he bent down to pick the cards up to put away. All but the Joker and the Queen. He stared at them for a moment more, feeling resentful, and angry about it; he willed every bad feeling for everything this past year that had happened and afterwards he ripped up and threw the pieces into the trash can next to his bed stubbornly.

And there it was.

The Joker and the Queen of Hearts didn't exist any more, they were ripped up and destroyed, just as he and Rogue were.

It didn't matter if they could be taped together, the tears would always show, they were no good to the pack any more, and definitely no good to each other.

End of Part One

So here we are. I was going to work on the sequel for Derranged Marriage, but I've had a few PMs and people hoping for conclusions and some closure on aspects of the previous parts of this story. Before I'd even finished posting the last part of Darkness Within, I had already finished this chapter and had the next six already written in my head. While the story is fresh, I thought the continuation should keep going. Now I'm seven parts in, and more and more chapters are getting written in my head every day.

Hope you all enjoy this first instalment, I can't wait to get more up soon (and see what you think about where the story is going ;) ).

If anyone wonders about the title, it was the song I was listening to when I had the ideas for the third story (Bluetones "slight return", lol. Sometimes inspiration comes from anywhere!). Ah, anyway, off to watch family guy and chill. Hope you have a great week.