Now that she lost her powers, Rogue could finally walk around Central Park without her gloves in the summer. She could help the little kids that fell on the ground without sucking their energy out. She was happy. Of course, she didn't go back to the Xavier mansion. She had gotten her own apartment in New York. Miss Monroe had made it clear that she was still welcome there at all times but Rogue knew she had to move on. Start her life the way she wanted it and not having to worry about her powers all the time.
It started with a lousy job in a bar where she met the raunchiest men in the city, including Wolverine from time to time when he came to check up on her. While she worked minimum wage and horrible hours, she looked for another job. Something simple, something she could do without a high degree for something or another. It wouldn't be so hard to find, after all, this was New York. There was bound to be someone who had a job for her but for now, she was fine living on her minimum wage and the little tips she received at the bar.
If anything didn't work out after all, she knew that she had an open teaching position at Xavier's mansion. Storm had promised to help her with the job hunt, even if it was by offering Marie a job at the school she had abandoned during the war. Marie felt like she didn't earn or deserve the kindness that the white haired woman had shown her so she had declined. Now, it had become her back-up plan. In case anything went wrong. After all, she had read the newspapers, the cure was only temporary.
She worked at the bar for two months without any sign of her powers returning until she decided to dye her white stripes back to her normal brown hair. Nobody said anything about it even though on the inside, she was hoping for them to notice the change. There was one particular customer who did notice it though. A dirty cajun, always sitting in the dark corner of the bar and with his regular order. He wasn't the type that would take you home in the evening and cook you a lovely meal. He was the kind of guy that would drag you along with him while he got into trouble and you would love every second of it.
A good man though, Rogue knew, only because he was so familiar to her. She had seen him around the mansion before she had taken the cure. When he came into the bar with Wolverine, she had finally got up the courage to ask her old friend who he was.
Remy LeBeau. Thief. Gambit. He was an orphan; his demon red eyes were the only thing visible as he sat in the dark corner. She smiled. Her shift had just started and he was there already, as always, H-her most loyal customer. She did her job for a few hours while he sat there, quietly sipping his drink as she buzzed from one side of the room to the other.
It was as if he was her shadow, his eyes following her everywhere. The moment there was a sign of trouble; he moved to get out of his spot and help her out but never had to. Marie could handle herself. She still had a bit of Logan in her head; a bit of Magneto was in there too and from all those other people she had absorbed. If she couldn't take care of herself, no one could.
At the end of her shift, she sat down in front of Remy and smiled at him. He gave her a crooked smile back and motioned for them to go. It wasn't much that they had but they had something.
A friendship, a relationship, something was going on. They didn't try to label it, knowing that that was just protocol and it was simply ridiculous. He, and Wolverine (but only because the man threatened to break down her door), were the only two from her past life that she had left in her life. All the others, she had broken contact with. She wanted a new life, new friends.
Sadly enough, Logan and Remy were two men you just couldn't say no to. If you did, well, you didn't want to go there. It was too dangerous. Besides, Logan was like a father to her and Remy, well, Marie didn't know what he was but he was something.
"What's wrong Cherie?" Remy whispered in her ear, his arms around her as she opened the door to her dingy apartment.
"Just reminiscing," she smiled and leaned into his touch. For some reason, he was always warm, even when wearing the bare minimum of clothing. He didn't even wear a jumper under his trenchcoat.
Opening the door to her, no their, dingy apartment made her sigh. She didn't want to live in this place anymore; where the walls were as thin as paper and just being in the living room made you feel like dirt was taking over your skin.
A small kiss on the back of her neck brought her out of her thoughts again and she smiled sadly at Remy, "don't you sometimes wish you were back at the mansion?" she whispered.
"Why Cherie? I have everything I need in my arms," he smiled, his charm brightening the room.
"You're such a sap," Marie rolled her eyes, "honestly though, look at this place, I'm sure that if I poke the wall, it'll fall through," she pointed at the wall, "even closing the door makes the entire place vibrate. What are we still doing here? We had it so good at the mansion and now..." she let her shoulders hang and sat down on the second hand couch she had gotten from her neighbors.
Remy sat down next to her and put his index finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him, "Cherie," he muttered and gave her a peck on the lips, "do you want to go back to the mansion?"
"I don't know," she looked away, "I said to Storm that I wanted to make it on my own, and I am."
"But you're not happy are you, mon amour?" he whispered.
"No," she admitted, it had taken her eight months to say it out loud. She wasn't happy. She wanted to be special again. She wanted her powers back, she wanted her home back. She wanted her friends back. Everyone in the mansion was still there, except her.
Even Pyro was back. After the war, he had returned to the school, battered and broken. Soon he had risen back to his former position of the school's number one troublemaker. Eight months she had been living without her friends, away from her true life.
"Then let us go back mon coeur," Remy smiled softly and kissed Rogue.