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"It should have been me"

Intro:

It was cold. That was all he could feel right down to his bones. The freezing water ate at his flesh, stinging it until there was only a dull numbness left. Off in the distance he could hear what he thought to be a horn from a boat and men's voices shouting. He turned his head toward the sound and tried to open his eyes but they were swollen from the stinging salt of the sea and blinded by the bright light of the boat. His teeth chattered as he called out for help with a voice that could hardly croke. The shouting became louder and so did the motor of the boat. The waves rocked him hard, threatening to overturn his small piece of drift wood. Right as he felt his frozen fingers lose their grip, he gulped in a lung full of sea water instead of air. He was under water now and the cold kept his arms and legs frozen and heavy like rocks. He couldn't breath, he couldn't see and he couldn't think. Just before he lost consciousness he felt hands on him, strong hands that pulled him up out of the water and laid him on the deck. He choked on the water as it spilt out of his mouth, coughing and shivering and throwing up. He was safe now, they had found him. He was alive, but was Etienne?

Story:

Remy LeBeau sat up in his bed and screamed, sweat dripping down his spine as he shivered and began to cough. In the dark of the room his alien eyes darted around in frantic search of, of what? Or who? His fist clutched at the blankets on his bed as he tried to regain his composure. His skin was hot but he was cold and he felt sick to his stomach. He pushed back his sweat soaked bangs and closed his eyes, attempting to recall his most recent memories. The last thing he could remember was,………oh God, where was Etienne? Remy threw off his covers and ran to the door, nearly falling flat on his face as his legs threaten to give out. He ignored the pain and sickness, concentrating instead on the deep seeded dread that he knew was true. As he opened the door he could hear voices down stares in the foyer, familiar voices full of grief.

"My baby!...My son!...Where is my Son?" Jean Luke's sister fell weeping into her brother's arms, as her older son Lapin, 18, stood by in silence, his head down, one hand over his eyes. Tantie was their too holding a picture of the smiling blond haired child who had only a month earlier celebrated his 13th Birthday. She was crying and mumbling prayers to the dead. Henry was near by holding Mercy as they each wiped tears from their eyes.

"He's wit de angles now. He's joined our father in his kingdom of heaven. May he rest in piece." Jean Luke spoke softly, as he stroked the sandy brown hair of his sisters head as she berried her face in his chest. Remy stood at the top of the stares and felt the suffocating grief and guilt choking him as the nausea in his stomach became a force full ache. His head felt foggy and his vision blurred as distorted images of a monster named the Pig flashed through his mind. He remembered an explosion or something like it and the icy coldness of the water. What happened to Etienne?, Why had he survived when his cousin had not. These questions burned in his brain and he fell to his knees, leaning against the railing so as not to fall down the stares. He groaned as he brought both hands to his swollen eyes. The noise drew the attention of the others and all eyes went to Remy at the top of the stares hunched over and filled with grief and guilt.

"YOU!...You red eyed demon bastared son of de devil!...You did dis!...Dis is your fault!...Damn you Remy!...You were suppose to watch him! Keep him safe!...He's dead!...Oh my God! Mon Duie mon file est mort!...Non!...Why my son?" Remy's Aunt cried out in anguish as the others restrained her from running up the stares after Remy.

"Je suis dessole!...I…..I don' know how it happened!...He was wit me de whole time!...I tried to protect him!...I tried….." Remy's voice was shaking as his empathy threatened to overwhelm him with the intensity of the emotions directed his way.

"You tried?...Well you failed debale blank!...It should 'ave been you!...You hear me you street rat, gutter trash freak!...Oh Etienne! My beautiful little boy!" Her anger and despair turned back to Jean-Luke. "Why my boy and not yours?... Why not Remy!...It should 'ave been him!...Dat bastared let my baby die!... You should 'ave never brought em' here Jean-Luke!" She pushed away from all of them, her eyes wild and full of anger and the insanity of a mother's grief. She looked up to the boy at the top of the stares, barley a day past 15 and with calm hatred she pointed her finger at him.

"It should 'ave been you Remy!... You know Dat!...It should 'ave been you drown in dat black water, laying dead in de morgue. And if dare is a just God, den soon you will be!" She glared at each of them, then stormed out the door. Lapin looked up at Remy, then away and fallowed his mother out the door.

Their departure brought with it a devastating silence as they each looked every where but at Remy who at the moment couldn't blame them. He pulled himself up to his feet, and let his fever glazed eyes drift over the people he loved and he hoped still loved him.

"M' sorry." He wanted to say more. He wanted to sob, to brake down and beg their forgiveness. Yet at the same time he felt numb, the uncomfortable white noise of foreign feelings meshing with his own painfully raw emotions. It was all too much to process, to much to think about. Because he felt every thing he in fact felt nothing at all. With the blankness of shock and the dull dizziness of sickness, Remy turned and left, slowly staggering back toward his room. Once inside, he locked the door behind him and stood motionless, blinking down at the doorknob before resting his forehead against the door. Etienne was dead and it was all his fault. Etienne was dead, and it should have been Remy instead. He knew it and so did they.

He turned away from the door and walked over toward his burrow. He placed his sweaty palms upon the cool smooth surface of the dark cherry wood and looked up into the antique mirror at his miserable reflection almost unrecognizable. Long shabby bangs stuck to his face in sweat and hung over his demon eyes that looked back at him with hatred and despair. Pink lips folded in a frown loosely over clenched teeth that held back the bile that threatened to creep up his throat. His face was still smooth as a child's but his jaw and cheek bones were strong and defined like a man's. His neck was thin and his shoulders broad, his collar bones pronounced. His bare torso was fit, slender but muscular and covered in slightly tanned flesh that at the moment had a number of burns and bruises. He had only three chest hairs that Bella Donna liked to pluck out just before he'd fall asleep after they had sex. She was vindictive like that.

He looked away feeling the guilt in his gut like an ice pick. Sex. That was just one of many experiences that Etienne would never get the chance to have. Remy bit down on his tongue until he felt the coppery taste of his own blood. He thought about one morning the week before. About the conversation he had with Etienne as they sat on the mossy banks of the bayou trying to catch crawdads but having better luck with mosquitoes. Remy was leaning back against a tree, his jeans rolled up to his knees, no shirt, a bandanna around his head keeping back his unruly hair. He was sipping blue berry moonshine out of a jar and smoking a rolled cigarette. Etienne was fidgeting with the crawdad trap in a pair of overalls, his tanned legs hung dangling in the water. He turned toward his older cousin and ran a hand threw his blond curls.

"Hey Remy?...Ya wanna go inta de city tonight and work over de tourists?" He asked playing with a pocket knife.

"Non, not tonight, me an Belle gonna paint de town red. Gonna wine an dine and dance till de sun come up." Remy smiled as he took a swig and offered it to his cousin. Etienne shook his head and laughed.

"Remy, it aint even half past ten yet! How you gonna be drinking dat stuff? Taste like rocket fuel!"

"Paw, never a bad time fo' monshine." He smiled at Etienne's wrinkled face. They sat in silence for a moment, then Etienne asked a question in a sheepish voice, eyes glued to the ground.

"Remy, you gonna ave' sex wit her tonight?" Remy looked at his cousin out of the corner of his eye, jar pressed against his lips. He smirked and took a gulp before answering his curios young disciple.

"Qui, I suppose………Why you askin?" He looked at the younger boy turn away and blush.

"Just wondering is all." He mumbled shrugging.

"Well why you wondering homme?" He laughed pushing him with his foot.

"I dunno……….Sometimes I just wonder what it'd be like……..Monnet didn't even let me feel her up or anything." Etienne pouted.

"Ha,…..Well don' you worry couz, ya got all de time in de world!...Sides, you only a kid, just turned 13. It'll happen when it happen!" Remy smirked again.

"But didn' you ave' sex wit Bell de first time when you was my age?" Etienne asked blankly. Now it was Remy's turn to look away. He shrugged, and focused on the ember of the cigarette.

"Qui, but don't mean we shouda……We was in such a hurry tah grow up and prove our love dat we just did it wit out thinking………If papa had found out,…….." Remy sighed and flicked the butt into the murky water. "Don't be in no rush Etienne, ya got yer whole life ahead of ya! Sex can wait." He smiled and ruffled the blond curls on his cousin's head staring out at the water.

He was wrong as always. One more thing to add to a list of many and no matter how often he went to confession he knew it was never enough. He had failed his Cousin. He had failed the thieves Guild and worse of all, he had failed Jean-Luke, a man he respected and idolized above all others, who's love was necessary and who's rejection would be devastating. If not for the mercy of the King of thieves, Remy would still be on the streets and would likely be in very bad shape. It was all he could do to scratch out a lively hood picking pockets and digging threw trash cans with out succumbing to the constant pressures from the other street dwellers to sell his body and take drugs. Every adult he met on the street was a pusher, a pimp or both ready to take advantage of the young and helpless. Remy had been fortunate to be a member of Fagain's gang and to have the eyes of a devil that frightened many people, saints and scum alike. Jean-Luke was the exception. He had complimented Remy's eyes from the moment the scared child had raised them to meet the man who caught his wrist during the pinch. Jean-Luke had brought him home to be part of the family. Had fed him and educated him in the ways of the thieves. Had given him a sense of pride to cover up a life of shame. And now that would all change.

Remy looked up again at the mirror and sneered at his reflection. His chest became tight as his fist clenched and teeth ground. Suddenly he punched the mirror, shattering the glass and cutting his hand. He let out a guttural cry, then a soft whimper as the blood ran down his knuckles and off his finger tips. He lifted his hand, now throbbing with a dull sting and slowly exhale a long painful sigh that had held back his tears. His eyes grew wet and a drop or two ran down his cheeks. He closed his eyes again, letting the painful sensation in his hand spread over his body. Surprisingly, the physical pain proved to be a relief from the emotional and mental numbness he had been feeling. He opened his eyes again and breathed out a few quivering breaths, then grabbed a tee-shirt off the ground and wrapped his hand.

As he opened the window the cool night air rushed in on him and made him shiver. His body was covered in a thin layer of perspiration and his fever was raising his temperature into the 100's but still he shivered, his teeth chattering. Remy crawled out onto the roof, one handed and graceful as ever. He leaned against the out side of the house and pulled his knees in. He breathed in the damp air of the bayou and let the sounds of the swamp fill his ears. The stars were out, shinning bright and clear. Sometimes at night he missed the city with it's lamp posts and neon bars crowded with people. For so many years he had spent his nights dancing to zydeco then later fallen asleep to the calming, soulful melodies of jazz and blues. Out here it was all different, and at first unnerving. He had thought it was too dark and too quite, but soon grew to appreciate those things the city drowned out. The stars were his favorite thing about the night. Tantie Mantie once told him that the stars were guardian angles, sent from God to look after his children on earth. He looked up at those stars tonight and couldn't help but feel enraged. Where was Etienne's angle? Why hadn't the son of a bitch done something, anything to help protect him, to guard him?

"Fuck you." Remy whispered. He glared up at the stars, those beautiful diamonds twinkling in the sky. "FUCK YOU!" He shouted with anguish and fierce resentment. He reached up and grabbed the gold crucifix that dangled on his neck. Just as he was about to rip it off he stopped, remembering that it had been a gift from Mercy, his sister in law, on the first day he went to church. He held the cross between his fingers and looked up again.

A moment later a pair of hands appeared on the edge of the roof, then a pair of greenish blue eyes beneath a head full of fluffy yellowish red hair. Lapin pulled himself up with ease and grace not making a sound. The 18 year old boy sat next to his younger cousin looking at the stars. He pulled out a silver flask from his trench coat pocket. It was as large as his hand and engraved with the LeBeau family crest. He unscrewed the cap and took a few harsh sips, before passing it to Remy. The younger boy took the liquor with out making eye contact. Both stared up at the stars in silence. Remy drank, one, two, three…….he took another swallow then finally screwed on the top when the burning became too much. He handed it back to Lapin and took out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out with his lips, he held out the pack to his cousin who took one and mumbled a :"mercy". Remy put away the pack and reached for his lighter, patting himself down. Realizing it was nowhere to be found, he sighed and straitened his pointer finger. With a knitted brow he focused on his finger, trying to summon the power he had yet to master. Lapin looked at him out of the corner of his eye, then turned completely as Remy's finger began to glow. He held the tip against the end of his cigarette until the ember flared to life, then he did the same for Lapin. The two sat in silence once again until Lipan finally spoke.

"Quite de little talent you got dere Deblie. Bout time you get some powers, ehe? Too bad it didn' do no good for you an Etienne!" He tried not to sound too bitter but he could not hide his resentment, the pain was still to raw and fresh. Remy looked down at the glowing ember, feeling the burden of his guilt and shame like a weight sinking in his gut.

"M' sorry Lipan. M' so sorry." The words were barley above a whisper and filled with smoke. "It should have been me." Remy's voice was calm and certain. He looked strait ahead, his eyes dull and glazed. Lapin studied the boy, looking hard at the person he both pitted and despised but most of all respected and cared for. He sighed and closed his eyes, swallowing down his hostility and anger.

"Maybe. Maybe non. Either way he be dead an' you still livin. So stop feeling sorry for your self and every one else and start thanking God for giving you yet another chance!" He smirked and ruffled Remy's hair then took another drag and put it out. " I swear to God Remy LeBeau, you got more lives den de bayou got crocks." He stood up and stretched then made a delicate flip off the roof landing on his feet. "No wonder people be thinking yer part chein."

"Look who talkin cuz!" Remy half smiled, but it was gone just as quickly as Lipan who faded into the shadows of the night. The feeling of warmth and companionship was gone as Lapin left Remy's empathy barren and cold once more. The alcohol provided only a dim vale that did little to shield him from his own repetitive thoughts. The grotesque images of the Pig were burned into his consciousness, just like the sight of Etienne's cold dead body, stiff and pale and eaten away at by the sea creatures. It was something he would never forget as he stood next to Jean-Luke in the morgue. He was only half conscious and too weak to stand but his father held him there, his shaking body in a vice grip that left bruises on his arms.

"Look at your cousin Remy………..Say good bye,………and beg God for his forgiveness!" His fathers words were bitter with grief and cut deep.

Remy looked up to the stars and whispered a few prayers on behalf of his cousin. He looked down at the end of the hot ember and closed his eyes.

"Forgive me Etienne ……Please,……..please!" The words were barley a hushed whisper that choked out of tearful sobs that awaited below the surface of an exhausted poker face. He took a breath then pressed the burning end of the cigarette into the soft tanned flesh of his inner for arm.

Remy clenched his teeth and let out a hiss of pain as the sweat dripped off his brow. Smoke carried the aroma of burning flesh up into the air. He held it there shacking as the pain rushed up his arm, hot and stinging until finally it over powered the nauseating guilt and the suffocating despair. He threw the butt aside and closed his eyes tight breathing threw his noise. He let out a sigh of relief and looked down at the raw pink and red flesh that was starting to blister. He circled the fresh burn with the fingers of his right hand still streaked with dry sticky blood from his cut knuckles. He breathed out a calm breath and looked up once more.

"Don't see what de use be in praying, Le deblie blanc ain't got no audience wit heaven or de angles dat call God's kingdom home." He swallowed hard as he held the gold crucifix in his hand. "But if you be de just and good God people claim ya to be, den hear my words. Let Etirnne's soul enter yer pearly gates and may what ever sins he had committed become mine to bear. He was your son, I am not. He was innocent, I am not. He was a child of light, and I am not. I will never ask you to spare moi life nor will I call upon yer strength to ease my pain. I do not seek your forgiveness and do not expect your love. I ask only this, Let his soul rest in peace and let the pain of his death be mine and mine alone. Allow me to take away their suffering and carry it as my own. This I beg of you and your son Christ my lord. Ahmen." He crossed himself and kissed the crucifix, hoping his prayer would be answered.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The words of a depressed youth rang clear in the mind of a helpless witness. Rouge opened her emerald eyes that were wet with tears. She looked up at the crowd of curious faces as she held her unconscious lover in her arms.

"Is everybody alright?" Cyclops entered the Danger room fallowed by Beast and Jean. They walked over to the heard of Sweat covered, painting X-Men as the hologram dispersed.

"Rouge what happened?" Jean knelt down next to her team mate who only gazed back numbly, tears streaking her rosy cheeks. She sat on the floor holding Gambit in her arms between her legs, rocking him slowly. His eyes were closed, brow furled as shallow breaths wised out of his slightly parted lips. Jean waited for an answer but none would come. Beast rest a hand on the Cajun's forehead then checked his pulse.

"Rouge?" Jean studied the young woman's face, realizing at once the sadness in her eyes was one that could not be explained by words, only by feeling.

"Two of em' collided when Rouge got thrown by that second sentinel. Skin musta touched cause Gumbo fell flat and Rouge started screaming in French." Wolverine offered his synopsis' as Rouge had lost her tongue.

"Beast, is he OK?" Cyclops asked as they watched the big blue doctor at work.

"He'll be fine in a couple of hours, but lets get him to the med lab just in case." Beast smiled at Rouge reassuringly, gently removing the unconscious X-Man from her protective embrace. She watched him get carried away, still in the haze of foreign feelings and a memory she would likely never forget. She was still zoned out as Jean and Storm helped her to her feet. The others all looked at her with concern, wondering what it was she saw in side the head of their mysterious Cajun.

"Rouge? Darling?...You alright?" Wolverine questioned as she quietly floated past them. She still did not answer as she approached the door.

Rouge! What did you see?" Bobby blurted out the question on the tip of every tongue. She paused at the door, looking back over her shoulder.

" I saw Remy………. ……………….For a man who makes no apologies, all he has ever wanted was forgiveness……….That must be so hard." Her voice seemed hallow and distant as if she were talking only to her self. With a sad sigh she turned away and left her team mates in contemplative silence.

The End.