Picture, a x-men fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of the X-Men. That honor still remains with Marvel.

A/N: So, this is my first fic and I have only Merr2 to thank for inspiring me to write instead of reading everyone else's stories. She also helped Beta this fic and helped me see how a few added words here and there can make a story so much more… So thank you! This will be 7-10 chapters long. Because I'm new at this I can't promise quick updates, but I'll do my best to get them up in a timely manner. The story is based off the son Picture sung by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow. I always thought the song fit Rogue and Remy to a T! Enjoy and please review…

Living my life in a slow hell Different girl every night at the hotel I ain't seen the sun shine in 3 damn days

Been fuelin' up on cocaine and whiskey Wish I had a good girl to miss me, but I wonder if I'll ever change my ways .

Remy rolled onto his back slowly and his bleary-eyed vision of the hotel ceiling finally came into focus. His head pounded and his body ached as confusion set in. He tried to make sense of what he'd done the night before. A light moan on his right brought his attention to the blonde lying on her stomach beside him. Ah, yes, it was all coming back to him now. The nightclub. The whiskey. The music. The women… He studied her face for a long moment and couldn't recall the woman's name. Candi? Mindi? Cindi? Mandi? He shrugged inwardly; it didn't matter. He always had a fallback and pulled out his usual pet name, " Chére."

Remy rubbed his face and glanced at the clock on the hotel's night stand and saw it was already late in the morning. Housekeeping would be knocking if he hadn't put the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. He had put the sign on the door, hadn't he?

The woman shifted on the bed next to him -but- Remy ignored the movement. He sat up slowly and swung his feet to the side and leaned forward… God, he felt old. Drinking whiskey all night and all day would do that to you, but there was a time he could party all night longon any given day and still be the first one running into a battle. Not now, though. He wasn't twenty-five anymore. He was thirty-five, but still trying to live the life he one had.

He saw his phone blinking and he grabbed the thing off the table and flipped it open to see he had seven missed calls and four voice messages. However, as he stared at his phone it wasn't the words he was looking at, it was the background photo he had on his phone that caught his breath.The photo seemed to always take his breath away. He kept making a point to change it, but when he would start the process he always found a reason not to delete the photo of her from his phone.

He remembered the day he'd taken the picture of her. She'd just watched her best friend, Kitty Pryde, marry the love of her life, Piotr Rasputin, in a ceremony on the mansion's lawns. Rogue had just listened to Kitty pledge her love for Piotr at the reception following the ceremony and it had brought tears to the belle's green eyes. Eyes he'd fallen hard for the moment he'd seen them for the very first time.

Rogue turned to him after Kitty's speech and as he raised his arms to take a picture of Kitty and Piotr he'd turned his phone towards Rogue and captured her beauty in all its glory. He'd had it on his phone for a year and a half now, and he couldn't bring himself to change it now.

More shifting camefrom behind him and caused Remy to snap his phone shut. There was no way he was going to stare at her while a nameless, naked woman was laid right next to him.

He tossed the phone back on the table without a care in the world. He'd check the messages later. More than likely they were from Logan or Scott wondering why he hadn't checked in with them in three damn days. One thing was for sure, though- none of those messages were from her…

"Gambit?" The woman purred the name from deep in her throat. Her voice told him her desires had been satisfied. Many times over.

His mutant namecoming from her lips didn't disturb him. It never did. There was no way in hell he'd tell any of these women his real name. Only she could call him Remy while lying naked next to him. Not that she ever did.

"Come lay down. It's still early."

"Désolé, ma petite, but I got things to do today." What a crock of shit, but she didn't need to know that.

Remy looked down at the floor and tables and realized that he needed more whiskey. The empty bottle at his feet and the otheron his table was a clear indication of that.Remy's hands went over his face once more; the motion soothed him. He was thankful it did, for when she reached out to touch his back he winced at the contact of her hands on his traitorous skin.

It sickened him.

He slowly got up from the bed, not bothering to cover his nude form.

Healmost rolled his eyes when the woman gasped at the sight of his naked backside, and walked over to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He turned on the light, and placed his hands on the counter and stared at them for a long while as he musteredup the courage to look at his image in the mirror. He knew what he'd see when he looked up, but it always seemed to surprise him; especially lately.

When he finally did raise his eyes, he knew that if he'd been the crying type, he would have wept right there. What the fuck was he doing with his life? Why did he continue to hurt her? He pushed her way too much, and Remy knew that when you pushed someone too many times, they'd eventually push back. And boy did she throw him a fucking doozey.

He tore his gaze from the mirror and turned on the sink, splashing cold water on his face. He had to get a grip. It'dbeen three weeks since he'd seen her. Three days since he'd called her. He'd been drunk at the time, and she'd told him to never call her again.

God, he wanted to see her. Needed to see her.

One more time, that's all he needed. But how could he face her after what she'd done? The more important question was: Why did he think he had the right to be upset about it? He'd done the same things to her over and over again in their relationship, and she forgave him every fucking time. However, his affairs were physical needs only; hers had been a need of physical as well, but God damn it! She'd let it fulfill her emotionally as well, and that's when it hurt him the most. That's what caused his skin to tighten and make his blood boil from unadulterated anger. It made him want to get so fucking drunk that when he murdered the fucking bastard who got to touch her. He'd do it too. The image of her smiling at the man and holding his hand without those God damn gloves made him sick to his stomach. She should be smiling at him and holding his hand, but instead she'd finally found someone who could touch her. It wasn't him. It would never be him.

Remy dried his face with a towel and looked at himself again. A dark chuckle pierced the room around him as he stared back at the fool. "It'll never be you. She had your fuckin' heart, LeBeau, and you let her just stomp all over it."

He was a hypocrite. He knew that, but it didn't stop the feelings of betrayal and hurt from tightening around his cold heart and making it ache from within his chest.

He stumbled back from the vanity and over to the shower. Remy turned on the water and immediately stepped in; allowing the cold water to sting his skin before he upped the temperature and the hot, scorching water began stinging his skin until he could no longer feel the deep pain within his chest. He scrubbed his skin raw until the woman's scent was no longer poisoning his sense of smell.

He had no clue how long he'd been in the hot shower, but it was long enough that his hands were starting to prune. He shut off the water, and toweled himself off before wrapping the towel around his hips. He opened the bathroom door and the steam that stayed captured within the bathroom wasreleased into the room and dissipated into the cooler air. He stopped in the doorway when he saw thatthe woman was sitting up in the bed. She didn't even have enough respect to cover herself up.She smiled at him. Heturned away and walked over to the closet on the other side of the room.

"I was thinking I could help you with your errands today." He ignored her suggestion, and pulled on his boxer briefs.

"Gambit? Did you hear me?" Her voice was starting to be a little unsure. This was good for him. "I have nothing to do today since it's a Saturday, and you said you had things you needed to do, so I'd love to help you. What do you say?"

Remy pulled on his jeans and buttoned the last fly before reaching in to grab a t-shirt. He pulled it on over his head and he heard the sigh. A small breath, but it was big enough and had lots of meaning behind it. Here it comes…

"Okay, let me guess. This was a one-time thing for you, wasn't it?"

Still he said nothing as he tucked in his t-shirt. God, he was an asshole, but lies only led to them getting clingy. Better to piss them off and get it over with.

She raised her hands in the air in frustration and leaped off the bed. "Fine, but just so you know, this wasn't a one-time thing for me, Gambit! I really like you, and thought this could be great if we gave it a chance."

He heard her putting on her clothing so he walked over to the dresser to seal the deal. He reached for a cigarette and put the cancer stick between his lips. Helit the tip with a simple touch of a finger. Remy inhaled deeply, looking at the woman who had stopped to watch him, and blew the smoke in her direction with a smirk. Remy saw the tears fill her blue eyes, but he refused to look away. Eyes filling with tears stopped bothering him a long time ago. If they were green, you would've fallen to your knees you bastard…

She finished getting dressed and grabbed her purse from the table. Shetook one last look at him. "Fuck you!" A tear fell down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away with a swipe of her hand.

A hand he'd gotten to know quite well last night…but he brushed the thought away the moment it entered his mind.

"Don't you fucking call me! Ever!"

He snorted at the strange request. Why do they always finish with that one? Like he'd really call them back.

His thought process was ruined with the slamming of the door and Remy finally allowed himself to relax in a chair which faced the window. He took long pull of the cigarette and regarded the small sliver of sunshine that peaked in through the dark curtains. He hadn't truly seen the sun shine since he'd called her three days ago. He only went out at night nowadays, and even that was getting old.

Remy reached his hand out and leaned forward to pull the curtain back allowing him a glimpse at the sight on the other side of the window. His hand shook and he retracted it immediately. Who neededto see the sun, anyway? It only reminded him of what he lost. She had always been his light. When things were dark in his life (and when were they not), she was always the one who made the ends of his lips curl into a small smile. Just thinking of her in that light threatened the oncoming of a smile, and he took a long pull of the cigarette and leaned back in his chair. No smile. Crisis averted…

He blew the smoke out in a long slow breath, and grabbed the phone from the table next to him. He hit a button on the phone, and waited for the answer on the other end.

"Room service, how may I assist you?" greeted him in a cheery voice from the other end.

"I need a bottle of Crown delivered to the room, s'il vous plait."

"Yes, Mr. LeBeau, right away. Is there anything else I can get for you today?"

"Non, just de whiskey. Merci." Remy didn't even wait for another response, and just hung up the phone.

He caught another glimpse of the sunlight peaking through. It landed on his hand as it rested on the arm of the chair. He stared at the ray of light that always seemed to find him when he didn't want it to… and Remy LeBeau cried.

I put your picture away Sat down and cried today I can't look at you while I'm lying next to her