Leaving Skeletons in Closets
Author: MissBehaving
Tagline: Some skeletons were best left in the closet.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: There was something to be said about living in a place like Xavier Institute. Heavily implied Rogue/Logan.
It was around mid-morning and Remy LeBeau was leaning against the far wall of the greenhouse enjoying his fourth cigarette of the day and generally avoiding Ororo Monroe. So far Lady Luck had been on his side and the weather witch had yet to discover his hiding place.
He was just grinding out the butt with the heel of his boot when the school bell rung, indicating the top of the hour. Students began sprawling outside, presumably to their next class. Remy was twenty two years old and much too old for high school in his opinion, but not according to Ororo who was insisting that he attend classes. That wasn't going to happen. Remy LeBeau wasn't built for learning at a desk. It wasn't that he was slow, quite the opposite in fact. His ability to grasp arbitrary concepts and memorize codes and procedures was astonishing especially in an environment where there were real consequences for the mistakes he made. But in a place like the Xavier Institute, there was nothing to motivate Remy if he got something wrong. A bad test score didn't mean he was going without supper.
One of the female students wearing a yellow jacket with a big black 'X' stitched on the back was striding along the path and dragging another student, Rogue – he would recognize her two-toned hair at any distance, who looked quite unhappy about it. The friendship the pair held struck him as rather odd. Jubilee – he finally recalled her name, and Rogue was perhaps complete polar opposites in personalities.
"Jubes, this is an incredibly bad idea."
"Relax Rogue, this is one of my ideas." Their voices carried on the wind.
"Exactly. Or have you conveniently forgotten about the skinny dipping incident last winter in the public pools or the midnight drag races with Mr. Summer's cars? Of which you're still currently being grounded for. Jubes, you cannot be caught truanting. It's just going to be one more nail in the coffin when you appeal your case because you failed to matriculate with the rest of your class."
"Don't try to scare me with big words, Rogue. Just take a deep breath, okay? We are not going to get caught." Remy followed them at a discreet distance as they made their way to the motor pool. Jubilee still had one hand firmly attached to the sleeve of her friend's jacket.
"If we're going to be missing Dr. McCoy's introduction to sex education, can you at least tell me where you're planning on taking me?" Rogue seemed to give up that fight quickly.
Rogue was a complete mystery to everyone at the mansion, even her friends. She never volunteered any information about herself and if you weren't looking for her, you wouldn't even notice that she was in the room. Jubilee on the other hand practically announced her presence everywhere she went and was always gossiping about others. She had a theory for just about everything and she wasn't afraid to share her point of view with everyone else – even if they didn't ask for it. It was just one of her many charms that needed time to grow on you. Like moss.
"I know you know how to use a condom. We were all very impressed with your party tricks." Remy just about choked on that piece of information. He had to get himself invite to one of their parties if it was last thing he ever did. "We are going shopping for our graduation dresses." He supposed these things were in the contractual obligation of best friends
"This is what you dragged me away for?" Remy didn't need to be able to see Rogue's expression to know that she had an 'unhappy face' on. Her tone of voice said it all.
"You're getting a dress. I'm getting another piercing." And some day, Remy LeBeau would learn the names of every piercing Jubilee had. One for every drug she had tried.
"Jubes." The tone was half disapproving and half exasperation.
Remy has his own theory about the improbable teenage friendships that formed during their time at the mansion. They were most likely not based on any true fondness for the other person but from a survival instinct. St. John Allerdyce and Bobby Drake were a perfect example of his theory. Their respective powers of manipulating fire and forming ice meant that they should have been enemies, but because they were roommates, the proximity forced them into a peaceful coexistence.
If they didn't get along they would be fighting all the time and Remy knew from first hand experience that fighting inevitably lead to the body count rising in the proverbial closet. Or in his case, sometimes his skeletons were actually skeletons. Like a dead brother in law, a murderous fiancé and being exiled from his home town.
No matter what Charles Xavier said when he welcomed them into his school, the slate of their past was never wiped clean. It was always there like a cloud hanging over their heads with no silver lining to easy the pain. And just because nobody talked about their past openly, didn't mean that people didn't know about them. Remy had heard stories about the other students' past, like Kitty's thriving career as a shoplifter before she reformed with Xavier. Or how Ororo had been stuck by lighting fourteen times before she met Xavier.
And from some of the other rumors churning through the grapevine about sordid pasts, like federal warrants and burnt down rehab facilities, he could imagine their lives before Charles Xavier took them in. And none of it was pretty. He'd seen girls as young as twelve prostituting themselves to survive on their own as a mutant on the streets.
"If you're so worried about finals, just have Bobby or St. John tell you what happened in class."
"Are you trying to embarrass the boys to death?"
"It's better than sexually frustrating them to death. Can your shorts be any shorter?" The comment was made with half amusement, half exasperation.
Rogue stuck a slender leg out, balancing on heels. "Don't you like them? Logan bought them for me." A tiny piece of denim covered her crotch, and miles of legs were covered with sheer stockings. Shit. She could be the cover girl of mutants everywhere and he didn't think anyone would mind.
Jubilee stopped pulling abruptly. "Hold on. This is last week when he pulled you out of Mr. Summer's class?" Something in both their faces spoke of a much better story behind the incident than just Wolverine demanding Rogue leave class for him. Maybe he'd ask St. John next time they smoked together. Remy reckoned he could be friends with Wolverine. The man could break the rules when he wanted to.
"Yeah, and Jubes, don't be mad or anything, but I already bought my dress." Remy had seen her dress too. It was a dark blue floor length gown that was guarantied to stun the male population.
"Does Wolvie spend his entire paycheck on you?" Jubes pulled a random set of car keys out of the miniature cupboard hanging on the wall and hit the unlock button. Remy stepped back into one of the darker corners in the garage.
Rogue walked over to the passenger side of a very sleek looking coupe. "No, he also spends them on Canadian beers, cigars and hookers."
"I hope you're above hookers on his list of priorities."
"Yes, but below the booze and cigars." Remy snorted inwardly; as if anything could make Wolverine part from his precious booze and smokes. He had been interested in Rogue up until the point he'd seen Wolverine in her bedroom. Then he knew she was off limits. He just hoped the ice making mutant would clue in before he got himself skewered.
END