*I do not own the x-men or anything related to marvel comics
New Orleans, La.
"Goodnight Dr. Chloe," the head night nurse called as the scrub-clad woman rounded the desk. "And good morning to you," Chloe said with a wink as she wrapped her scarf around her neck. The nurse laughed as she returned back to the pile of patient files. The petit auburn haired doctor exited the hospital quickly, thinking only of a hot shower and sleep after a long night of call in the oncology ward. Rounding the corner of the block where she lived, Chloe slowed, feeling a vague sense of familiarity creeping up the back of her neck. Hesitantly, she approached the stairs of the Spanish styled house where her flat was located. The hallway was dimly lit with wall sconces that shined gracefully against the mahogany paneled walls and floors. The apartments next to her own still emitted the scent of beer and smoke, but there was another scent, something different, but very familiar. Tentatively, she touched her doorknob almost expecting it to still be warm. But it was cool and she unlocked her door and stepped inside her apartment, lit only with the gray dawn.and a single candle, a Spanish votive carrying the image of St. Michael slaying the dragon. It sent silent prayers to Heaven on it's vanilla scented smoke. Her eyes drifted from the gory image to the large marble statue of the Holy Virgin that was set behind it. "Remy," she whispered as she closed the door softly and she was answered with only a soft moan, so quiet she almost thought she had imagined it, but with anguish was so real she knew it was not a waking dream. In a moment she was beside him, kneeling on the floor. "Am I losing my touch chere?" He asked. As she looked at his tear stained face she knew he was speaking of more than his famous reputation for silence and stealth.
She sat next to him, a pot of tea cooling in front them on the coffee table. "So you found her," she asked, already knowing the answer, "where?" He nodded, choking back his grief; "Yes she was buried just where they told she would be, in a grove up in St Francisville, it was always her favorite place." With that he broke down again, his body shuddering with grief, "I should never have left, my Belladonna is dead and I let it happen." "It wasn't your fault, you left to protect her, and she chose the life of an assassin too." But even as she spoke this she knew it was not so simple, she too had loved Belladonna as a friend and the reality of her death was slowly numbing Chloe's senses as she blankly watched the tea cool. "Don't leave Remy, stay here and rest, this is your home, I am your family." "Je sais ma cousine, you are my blood, but I don't want to endanger you anymore than I already have, I can't fail you too." Sleep had been welcome rest from the pain of the day and at work Chloe had immersed herself in the care of her charges. She had always wanted this life and now her dream was finally becoming a reality. Standing on the oncology floor, Chloe watched the winter sky turn pink against the brown and silver of the city skyline, as perfect blend of ancient and modern. Trying not to think of her cousin, always the thief, he was the one who had been robbed this time and though she had asked him to stay, she knew her apartment would be empty upon her return.
Upstate New York
Ororo sat in kitchen, eating toast and watching the early morning news. The sky was still dark with the early morning stars still wheeling overhead. Soon the school would be alive with sound of the children getting ready for classes, but for the moment it was blissfully silent. The front door opened quietly and Ororo ignored it, assuming it was Kurt or Logan coming in from an early morning prowl as neither of them slept much, not she did either, not anymore anyway. "Chere, comment allez-vous?" Said a voice that she had not heard in months. A look of surprise and relief washed over her face as she turned to see Remy leaning in the doorway, his red eyes shining wearily from the shadowed entryway. She came quickly to him and wrapped her arms around him, already knowing what had happened, seeing it all in his eyes. He held her tightly, letting the feeling of her warmth seep into his cold soul. "She was the queen of assassins, and my heart." Storm let this new grief pull her mind from the old one; she had been a friend to her when she too was a thief in the Crescent City. She was gone though, and now one hard truth must be dealt another. "Remy," she whispered pulling his face close hers so she could look into his eyes, "while you were gone, Jean, she died."
New Orleans, La.
"Goodnight Dr. Chloe," the head night nurse called as the scrub-clad woman rounded the desk. "And good morning to you," Chloe said with a wink as she wrapped her scarf around her neck. The nurse laughed as she returned back to the pile of patient files. The petit auburn haired doctor exited the hospital quickly, thinking only of a hot shower and sleep after a long night of call in the oncology ward. Rounding the corner of the block where she lived, Chloe slowed, feeling a vague sense of familiarity creeping up the back of her neck. Hesitantly, she approached the stairs of the Spanish styled house where her flat was located. The hallway was dimly lit with wall sconces that shined gracefully against the mahogany paneled walls and floors. The apartments next to her own still emitted the scent of beer and smoke, but there was another scent, something different, but very familiar. Tentatively, she touched her doorknob almost expecting it to still be warm. But it was cool and she unlocked her door and stepped inside her apartment, lit only with the gray dawn.and a single candle, a Spanish votive carrying the image of St. Michael slaying the dragon. It sent silent prayers to Heaven on it's vanilla scented smoke. Her eyes drifted from the gory image to the large marble statue of the Holy Virgin that was set behind it. "Remy," she whispered as she closed the door softly and she was answered with only a soft moan, so quiet she almost thought she had imagined it, but with anguish was so real she knew it was not a waking dream. In a moment she was beside him, kneeling on the floor. "Am I losing my touch chere?" He asked. As she looked at his tear stained face she knew he was speaking of more than his famous reputation for silence and stealth.
She sat next to him, a pot of tea cooling in front them on the coffee table. "So you found her," she asked, already knowing the answer, "where?" He nodded, choking back his grief; "Yes she was buried just where they told she would be, in a grove up in St Francisville, it was always her favorite place." With that he broke down again, his body shuddering with grief, "I should never have left, my Belladonna is dead and I let it happen." "It wasn't your fault, you left to protect her, and she chose the life of an assassin too." But even as she spoke this she knew it was not so simple, she too had loved Belladonna as a friend and the reality of her death was slowly numbing Chloe's senses as she blankly watched the tea cool. "Don't leave Remy, stay here and rest, this is your home, I am your family." "Je sais ma cousine, you are my blood, but I don't want to endanger you anymore than I already have, I can't fail you too." Sleep had been welcome rest from the pain of the day and at work Chloe had immersed herself in the care of her charges. She had always wanted this life and now her dream was finally becoming a reality. Standing on the oncology floor, Chloe watched the winter sky turn pink against the brown and silver of the city skyline, as perfect blend of ancient and modern. Trying not to think of her cousin, always the thief, he was the one who had been robbed this time and though she had asked him to stay, she knew her apartment would be empty upon her return.
Upstate New York
Ororo sat in kitchen, eating toast and watching the early morning news. The sky was still dark with the early morning stars still wheeling overhead. Soon the school would be alive with sound of the children getting ready for classes, but for the moment it was blissfully silent. The front door opened quietly and Ororo ignored it, assuming it was Kurt or Logan coming in from an early morning prowl as neither of them slept much, not she did either, not anymore anyway. "Chere, comment allez-vous?" Said a voice that she had not heard in months. A look of surprise and relief washed over her face as she turned to see Remy leaning in the doorway, his red eyes shining wearily from the shadowed entryway. She came quickly to him and wrapped her arms around him, already knowing what had happened, seeing it all in his eyes. He held her tightly, letting the feeling of her warmth seep into his cold soul. "She was the queen of assassins, and my heart." Storm let this new grief pull her mind from the old one; she had been a friend to her when she too was a thief in the Crescent City. She was gone though, and now one hard truth must be dealt another. "Remy," she whispered pulling his face close hers so she could look into his eyes, "while you were gone, Jean, she died."