DARKNESS WITHIN
Part Two
"This is madness!"
"Come on, Charles, you know it was a last resort. We've all been at our wits end with this. I had to do something."
"So you threw her from the window!"
"I didn't throw her, we fell through the window – she doesn't know her own strength..."
"She could have been killed..."
"She's fine, not a scratch, not a single bruise. Christ she didn't even break a nail! She's stronger than any of us, she can take a beating."
"That is not the point. Since her evolution, her powers have never been tested. We have no conception of her limitations! You should have never gone to such an extreme!"
Remy LeBeau could hear voices, they seemed faded, far away. They weren't in the room with him, they were somewhere else, not nearby as far as he could tell. They almost seemed to echo...as if down a hallway...a very long hallway.
His head hurt exceptionally, as if he'd been hit face on with a battering ram. His body ached dully, felt heavy and limp. He could barely muster enough strength to move his fingers at first, and they felt stiff and sore. The voices continued from outside the room somewhere, sounding slightly closer now.
"I wouldn't have put her in any danger, you know that. I've seen the damage she can take, and it's extensive, the wire, the belt, blades and knives...nothing left a mark on her neck. She can't get any razors to go through her skin. I slammed her against a wall and she never felt a thing! You think I would throw her out of a goddamn window if I thought I could hurt her?"
"Just what was it you were trying to accomplish, Logan?!"
"To get her out of that goddamn room, to get her into the sunlight, to get her out of there...out of her gloom and back into the world of the goddamn living."
"These things should not be pushed. You should not have been so...so irresponsible!"
"Irresponsible?! You don't think leaving her in her room for fifteen hours a day on her own is irresponsible?!"
"She is hardly alone. She is always being checked on...you know that."
"Regardless. You think it's responsible just letting her sit with her guilt and misery alone up there forever?!"
"These thinks take time, Logan."
"Time is being pissed away and nothing has worked. Your shrinks didn't work, coaxing hasn't worked, kindness hasn't worked, Charles. Your ideas aren't working any more. Mollycoddling her doesn't work. She doesn't need to be handled like some fragile little china doll, she needs to be given a harsh push back into reality, and if I have to be the one to do that..."
Remy opened his eyes weakly, the light in the room was extraordinarily bright and he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a small groan with the discomfort this caused. Why my head spinnin'? What's that humming sound...the beepin'? Where the fuck am I?
"Logan, she is in a very fragile frame of mind right now, and your pushing her into using those new powers may be a catalyst into driving her to the next attempt to-"
"The next attempt to what, Charles? What can she do? We've taken every precaution we can to ensure that won't happen."
"But still-"
"Look, she's out of her room, that's all that matters right now. She's out and in the kitchen with Ororo...and she's eating. Isn't that something? Doesn't that mean we've made progress?"
"That remains to be seen, Logan."
"It's one step closer than you've gotten, than anyone else has. Just give me a little more time and I'll-"
"You'll what?"
"I'll get her out of this somehow."
Remy tried to turn over on the bed, roll away from the direction of the light. Something pulled with his weak arm and he felt a twinge of pain in his hand. Something began beeping loudly, the sound was too shrill, it made his head hurt more. He tried to cough but realised there was something down his throat. How had it been only now he had noticed that? Instinctively, he choked. What the hell was this?!
There were moments of panic and confusion, loud footsteps and voices; he felt someone there trying to hold him still, the voices became louder, disorientating. Whatever the thing was in his throat was removed and he almost vomited.
What's goin' on?! Where the fuck am I? What the fuck are they doin' to me?!
"The light..." he managed, in between laboured breaths.
"Logan, the blinds."
Remy heard the sound of the blinds being pulled shut, that quick shift of the blades against the fittings. And he tried to open his eyes again, it took much effort to do so, they burned and stung, felt dry and sore. In the blur of bad vision, he saw the bald shape of whom he recognised to be the X-Men's Professor Xavier, he couldn't have mistaken the shine of that bald head anywhere else. The one who held him down was Wolverine. The man they knew as Logan.
There were moments of questions, lights being shone in his eyes, being checked for reflex and feeling. Everything ached, especially his head, and it was all quite disorientating and confusing.
Nothing was more confusing than why was he here? What happened? He couldn't remember anything.
"Rogue is gonna flip her shit," he heard Logan mumble under his breath while the Professor was examining him.
Remy had to wonder what that had to do with anything. What did Rogue care? Why would she? He barely knew the girl and she barely knew him.
"Wha's goin' on?" Remy asked weakly once the Professor left him alone enough for him to manage a single sentence. "Where am I?"
"The institute," said Professor Xavier calmly.
Remy couldn't concentrate properly on the words, it took some moments to understand what the man meant. He was in the X-Men's home.
"What happened?" Remy groaned.
"Tell me..." began the Professor, "what do you remember? What's the last thing you can think of that happened to you?"
Remy was blank. He couldn't remember. He could remember who these people were, yet couldn't remember what last interactions he'd had with them. They were enemies, he knew that much. But he hadn't opposed them for months. There were several things he could remember, but couldn't remember the last thing to happen specifically. He had no answer. It almost felt like dreaming...that strange sense of no beginning, trying to figure out how he had gotten there.
"You remember your name?" asked the Professor.
"Gambit," Remy replied weakly, trying to sit up and having a hard time of doing so. Why I feel so goddamn weak?
"Your real name..." Logan uttered, sounding slightly impatient.
Remy faltered. It took a moment to remember that. Why was that? Did they know it? Did he want them knowing it? He supposed in this weak state, he wasn't in a position to really deny them information. Maybe this was a hostage situation? Were the X-Men the kind of people to do that? He'd never struck that from the band of goody-two-shoes. No...this wasn't a hostage situation. Who'd pay to have him safely returned?
He licked his dry lips and responded, "Remy. Remy LeBeau..."
"And your date of birth?" the Professor queried.
Again, this took a moment to remember. He had to really concentrate to summon up the information. December. His birthday was in December, wasn't it? Or was it? No, the twenty-sixth of December rang a bell. Day after Christmas, easy to remember. "twenty-six December," he managed, his voice dry.
"The year?"
"Ninety-one."
"Is that right?" asked Logan in a mumble to the Professor, "he doesn't look too sure."
"It's accurate," the Professor replied, "the day he signed the waver to join us, he gave us that information..."
Remy somehow managed to push himself up a little, his elbows shook under the strain. "I what?"
"Charles, he doesn't remember..." Logan sighed.
Staring between the two of them, his vision still blurred, eyelids still heavy, his memories disorientated, he tried to make sense of all this.
"Amnesia isn't uncommon after a persistent coma," the Professor explained, "Remy, rest back, please."
"Not 'til you tell me what's goin' on..." Remy swallowed, "what happened? Why am I here? Did I get hurt?" he looked around, managing to make out the two other beds in the room, the hospital equipment set up. This was some kind of hospital room.
"You've been in a coma for three months," said the Professor gently, he put his hand upon Remy's shoulder and pushed him back carefully.
"How?"
The Professor and Logan both shared a glance, Remy caught that as he tried to focus on squinting to clear his poor vision.
"An incident left you in that condition. You should rest."
"Feels like I've been restin' for too long...three months is plenty," managed Remy. "Why do I hurt so much? Can hardly move..."
"A little muscular atrophy is all...you'll need some physical therapy."
"Terrific..." managed Remy, he let his head rest against the pillow, closed his eyes, "three months..." he whispered. Three months of my life is missing...what about the time before that? Why can't I remember what happened?
"Try to rest..." the Professor urged.
Remy couldn't help but comply, his body, his mind, everything was so heavy, that he couldn't have resisted even if he tried. Sleep wouldn't come, but he barely had enough energy to keep his eyes open, and so he complied with what was asked. He'd figure a way to escape later but two things had to be achieved first; recouperate, and most importantly, learn the truth to his being brought here.
Rogue sighed as she stared around the kitchen. It'd been repainted since she'd last been inside. The colour was now a duck egg blue that she wasn't overly fond of. A new table, a larger fridge. It was like a different kitchen. Only the cabinets and counter tops remained the same.
Everything changes eventually, she thought. She was aware of the way Ororo Munro watched every bite she took of the poached eggs on toast that had been made for her; she hadn't initially been hungry that morning, but following the altercation with Logan she'd felt quite exhausted and suddenly starved. At least it was more apetitising than soggy cornflakes.
She pushed around a piece of crumbling egg yolk around her plate. She couldn't go back to her room right now, the damage and absence of the window meant that the room was too cold to be lived in at this moment in time. Kitty Pryde was going to pitch a fit when she returned to find her room wrecked from the fight. Especially since most of the damage had been on her side of the room, and not Rogue's.
If the girl doesn't request her own room now, Ah'd be shocked, Rogue thought dully as she lifted a piece of toast to her mouth and chewed.
"You don't like the kitchen," said Ororo, making small talk.
"It's fine," lied Rogue, she picked up her glass of orange juice and washed the dry crumbs of the toast down, "the flooring is nice," she admitted. The new tile floors were the only thing she did agree on, they were black and seemed to glitter. Very modern and expensive looking. "What's gonna happen about the damage to my room?" she asked casually. Her stomach ached with cramps and she pressed her free hand against her belly, wincing.
"Logan will take care of that," said Ororo.
"But who's gonna pay for all that damage?"
"Do not worry about it," Ororo soothed.
What was he thinkin'? He could have been killed, thought Rogue angrily. She pushed herself up from her chair with her mostly empty plate and moved to ditch what she wasn't hungry enough to eat into the trash before taking the plate to the sink. "He's an idiot."
Ororo forced a slight smile, but said nothing. She didn't seem to agree nor disagree. She only seemed to be somehow glad that Rogue was finally out of her room.
Rogue couldn't deny she still felt extremely uncomfortable being downstairs again. Right now it was fine, with only Ororo sitting at the other end of the long table way out of arms reach and danger of her powers. The other students were all at school, and anyone else remaining in the mansion were in different rooms. No one was in danger, for this moment.
But she still felt uneasy, nonetheless. "Let me do that," Ororo stood.
"Ah can do it," Rogue warned, backing away a little from Ororo as she took a step forward. Ororo stopped in her tracks. "Ah'm perfectly capable of washin' a plate."
The tap worked via sensors, as the new taps up in the bathrooms did. It was a precaution, after Rogue had accidentally snapped off taps on numerous occasions and flooded the bathroom out more than five times. Rogue ran her hand quickly beneath the sensor to make the water run hot and she moved the plate to rinse it beneath the flow, but unfortunately her strength caught the ceramic and cracked it, the broken pieces landed in the steel sink beneath.
"Fuck," she muttered. It wasn't the first plate she'd accidentally broken in the past three months this way, and she was sure it wasn't going to be the last.
"Don't worry," said Ororo, getting up quickly to come over and move the broken pieces out of the sink.
Rogue winced, moving out of the way swiftly. Eating with ceramic plates was a novelty she hadn't enjoyed for months since her last suicide attempt (trying to use the sharp edge of a broken plate to stab herself in the throat hadn't been a smart move and up until now had been the last time she'd been given one to eat from. She supposed in Ororo's surprise that she'd left her bedroom, the plate had been given inadvertently. Either that or it was because the only strong plastic plates left in the mansion were up in Rogue's bedroom still on the breakfast tray.
"Ah'm sorry..." Rogue apologised, both for swearing in front of Ororo, and for breaking the plate. She sighed. "Ah haven't touched a real plate in so long..."
"Rogue, you will overcome this. You simply do not know how to judge your own strength yet, but this will come with practise."
Rogue wasn't convinced of this. She stared down at her gloved hands, wondering how it could be that so much strength to break things so easily could have evolved. It had been a question she'd asked herself since the evolution had completed and she'd been left this way.
"Pratise could take years and Ah'm not gonna destroy the house in the process. Ah've already caused enough damage," Rogue confessed, "soon as my room is fixed...Ah'll be back up there...right now, Ah don't have much choice," she reminded. She moved to look out of the window into the back garden, the damaged patio slabs reminded her of the incident with Logan. Was he going to fix that too? Who would pay for all that damage?
"Maybe it is time you began to train once again," Ororo suggested, she put the pieces of broken plate into the trash then dusted her hands off, "one on one with Logan. Some time in the Danger Room..."
"Ah'd wreck the Danger Room in this condition," Rogue lamented, "and Ah know how much work it takes to fix that place any time somethin' goes wrong..."
"But still," Ororo tried.
Rogue picked up the solid metal ladle from the hook on the shelf, and without much effort she bent the bowl of it backwards from the handle, "Ah don't even have to strain to do this...it's thick solid stainless steel!" she bent it back to it's original position with ease, "the Danger Room can't be put back in shape as easy."
"You will never gain control of this new found strength if you do not train..."
"You guys said that about my absorption powers too," Rogue reminded, "and Ah trained and trained and it never happened," she put the ladle back on the hook. The handle looked slightly crooked now, but she supposed it mattered not.
"There is a difference between the control of your skin and the control of your physical strength, Rogue. You are much more capable of control than you believe-"
"Ah know what Ah'm talkin' about," Rogue snapped, "this is my body we're talkin' about, Ah know what and what Ah'm not capable of-"
"Rogue..."
Rogue turned towards the kitchen door at the interruption, seeing Logan standing there looking grim as he usually did these days. Even his amusement of getting her out of her room had been ill-lasting, it seemed. "What now?" she asked, still mad at him for what he'd pulled. He could have been seriously hurt. She'd have never forgiven herself if he had been, regardless of what his healing factor could do, regardless of how unbreakable his bones were.
"Remy is up."
Rogue blinked. The room seemed to spin, seemed to slow down and for a second she had to grasp the nearby kitchen counter for support, hoping the marble wouldn't shatter under her fingers. "He...he what?"
"Come."
Rogue barely gave Ororo a second look or a warning she'd continue the argument later. She rushed to follow Logan through the winding halls towards the hospital room. Her blood seemed to run colder with each step.
"When? When'd he wake?"
"About half an hour ago," Logan replied calmly, walking at her side, keeping his distance.
"And you didn't think to come get me?!" Rogue gaped.
"We had to check to see if he was all right first...the professor had to medically examine him..." Logan reminded.
"Is...is he all right?" Rogue asked. She was afraid that the answer may be no. In her head all kinds of possibilities presented themselves. What if he had become brain damaged, or had forgotten how to speak? What if she'd left him with the mental capacity of a child?
"He seems to be," Logan responded after a moment, seeming slightly distracted. "He has all sensations, and other than a little atrophy, he can move fine."
"That's...that's good," she said, feeling somewhat hopeful for the first time in what had been months.
"Look, there's somethin' you should know," Logan stopped in the middle of the hall, "it might just be temporary, the Professor isn't sure..." he folded his arms, "But all the same...you should be aware of what's about to happen..."
"What do you mean?" she stopped, gazing at him. It was funny, she thought, how these halls felt bigger, and how far away he felt even though physically there was only three feet between them.
"He doesn't remember," Logan responded, "anything...nothing at all, what got him here..."
Rogue stared ahead at her former mentor, feeling so utterly lost.
"He knows who he is but...as to what got him here...what happened just before...it's...not there in his head. Stuff is missing...memories are gone..."
"That's...that's amnesia..." Rogue replied, her stomach flipping.
"Exactly," Logan nodded, "Now, whether this is a permanent thing or not, we're not sure yet. Professor is sure there isn't any damage to his brain...He knows who we are...what we are...who he is...but anything that happened three months ago...he seems as in the dark as if he hadn't been there, as if nothing had happened."
"So...what are you sayin'?" Rogue swallowed hard.
"The professor asked me...in the interest of not overwhelming him, that you don't tell him what happened, at least not for now."
"You're...sayin'...that he doesn't remember anything..." she repeated. "So...he doesn't remember...me?"
"He knows who you are, Rogue," Logan answered sternly, "but if you're asking if he remembers his relationship with you...then sorry...no."
Rogue felt her tears blurring her vision, and she sucked in a breath and tried to control it.
"Take a breath, don't react that way around him. You'll freak him out," said Logan. "He doesn't need any more confusion than he already has. We shouldn't even really let you see him right now...but..." Logan sighed, "Well...I know how hard it's been for you...and I knew that when he awoke, nothin' was gonna stop you from bein' at his side," Logan began down the hall again.
Rogue followed at his footsteps, hugging herself insecurely. She wished she'd thought to change out of the fresh pyjamas she'd put on. She wasn't sure she wanted Remy seeing her in duct-taped pyjamas and luminous pink socks, especially not right now. She walked slow with every step trying to hold onto every ounce of control that she had within herself. The darkness that controlled her anxiety and frustration could not be allowed to present itself at this occasion. She couldn't risk worrying Remy, nor could she stand to see anyone have to help her through yet another of those attacks.
As she stepped into the hospital room her first instinct was to burst into tears and dash out of the room but she had to fight it with all her might. The second instinct was to run to his bedside and grab for his hand, but she had to fight that too, knowing that it couldn't be allowed, for one reason he didn't remember her being with him and two, her strength probably would have cracked his knuckles like walnut shells in a nut cracker.
Remy was sitting up in bed, looking slightly pale, hair overgrown, face unshaven with at least what looked to be like a three or four day growth. But physically he looked the same. She'd expected him to be thin and drawn but he looked healthy, hardly any change in him at all. Except that when he looked at her, she saw the lack of true recognition in his eyes.
Logan wasn't lying. He doesn't remember me, she despaired. Her heart ached with the knowledge, soul seeming to die within her every moment being in that room with the boy she'd almost killed.
Remy tilted his head a little, looking at her, squinting just a little, "Rogue...?"
Rogue stood at the doorway, she let her shoulder rest weakly against it, hoping it would hold her up and not crack with her strength. She said nothing and tried not to blink, afraid that it might make threatening tears spill. Don't you dare cry, she warned herself.
"You cut your hair," he noted.
Rogue reached up to brush her hand against the left side of her head, where her hair had been layered into her head to try and fix the mess she'd left cutting her hair off in frustration of a presumably dull razor. "You like it?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.
"It's...very you," he replied, he glanced between the Professor, who was also in the room at the bedside, and Logan, who was standing near the window, peering out of the blinds casually as if he weren't paying attention or listening to this scene unfold. To Rogue it seemed clear he didn't like the audience.
"How...do you feel?" Rogue asked, she stood there still, not wanting to step much further into the room for fear of what may happen. Ah could break that bed if Ah came near it, maybe break one of those machines by accidentally banging an elbow into any of them...there's so much that could go wrong.
Remy seemed to think about this, "confused...what happened?"
Rogue glanced over to the Professor, then to Logan, who both gave her that look that said she shouldn't try to explain right now. "There was an incident...you fell into a coma...they...they've been lookin' after you for three months..."
"When can I leave?" Remy asked of her, as if she were the one in charge of this operation, and not the man sitting in the wheelchair to his left.
"When you've recovered, properly," Rogue held back the urge to cry. Already he wanted to leave. He'd been awake half an hour and he already wanted to leave her. Not that it mattered, not like there was any chance they could be together now.
There would have been if Ah'd listened, if Ah hadn't gone through that machine. Now he's in a hundred times more danger of being near me than he ever was before. There could have been somethin'...Ah could have had a relationship, we proved that we could get physical before. Now...now Ah'm not even capable of touchin' him without snappin' his bones or drainin' him to death.
"You need time to recover," the Professor explained.
"Can I have a moment with her?" Remy nodded weakly in Rogue's direction to both men, who looked between themselves as if they were unsure if it were wise. The Professor made the decision and responded.
"Of course."
Rogue stepped into the room and aside as the two men left. Logan gave her that hard look again, it told her to not tell him a thing. She gave a vague nod, and she waited until they were gone.
"Rogue..." Remy said with a dry voice, "what the fuck...what the fuck is goin' on?" he kept his voice low, his expression was desperate.
"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked, side stepping a little towards the wall, moving around the room, keeping her best distance from him.
Remy stared at the ceiling, trying to remember this. "I don't know...it's all a blur...I can't...think straight right now."
"Oh," said Rogue. "But...you know me?"
"I know you..." he tried to shrug, but his joints seemed to ache at the effort and his expression revealed the pain. "I..." he paused, "I remember Mardi gras...with you..."
"That was nearly a year ago, Remy," Rogue hugged herself to keep her arms from accidentally hitting anything.
Remy's expression darkened, "seems like...I don't know...weeks ago...have I lost a year?"
"Ah don't know how much you've lost," she confessed. "You've definitely lost three months...that's all Ah know," she lied. No, it seemed he'd definitely lost more than that. Perhaps four, maybe five. Oh my god, could he really have lost a year of his life because of me? Did Ah drain those memories out of him permanently? She wondered in horror. Am Ah capable of that?
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Hmm?"
"You look so...shocked,"he replied.
"Ah'm just...glad to see you made it out of the coma is all...there was...a time it looked like you weren't gonna get make it."
"I was that close to death, huh?" he seemed almost amused.
"Yes."
"What put me there?"
"It's hard to explain."
"Try," he responded, sounding a little angry about it. She could see he was growing ever more frustrated with this, and she supposed she couldn't blame him for that.
The only problem though that there wasn't a way to respond. How could she? How could she tell him that it was her fault he'd ended up in a coma, that her desperation for control had nearly destroyed his life and had stolen part of it to boot? She couldn't. "Right now, it's not important. You need rest, you don't need to stress about stuff you can't change any more."
Hypocrite, she thought angrily at herself. Tell him to do things you can't even do, tell him not to stress about stuff he can't change when that's all you ever do. You're a fucking hypocrite, Rogue.
Remy sighed, "don't got much choice. Ain't got the strength to get out of here..." he reminded.
"You'll feel better soon."
"How'd I end up back in Bayville?"
"Ah...don't know, maybe you came here for work?" she shrugged, she headed towards the door, "you...have to rest now..."
And Ah can't be in this room with you, she thought unhappily. Ah can't look at the damage Ah've done to you...Ah'm scared Ah'm gonna break down again.
"Rogue, I need to know what happened...why the hell would I be here? They said I signed a waver to join the X-Men..." he frowned.
Rogue froze, the information sinkng in, "you what?"
"You're askin' me?" he demanded weakly, "I don't remember that...I don't remember any damn thing! I'd have never..." he shook his head tiredly, "I wouldn't have joined...not without a hell of a good reason to...and...I can't see any reason I would..."
Rogue's stomach churned, she felt sick to it. This was information she'd never been given. Why hadn't anyone ever told her this? Shouldn't someone have mentioned it? Why hadn't he told her about this back when he'd done this? She was furious that this information had to come from Remy after his coma. It should have come from the Professor.
"Ah...Ah don't know..." she shook her head honestly, "Ah...never knew about this...Ah swear..."
"Never?"
"Ah promise..." she looked him straight in the eye, "you never mentioned it to me...ever..."
"Wait...why would I?" he tried to sit up straighter, "Have we been in contact?"
"You could say that..." she responded meekly. She didn't want to divulge how much contact they'd been in. She was sure right now he wouldn't be able to handle that.
"Why don't I remember?!" he asked more of himself than of Rogue.
"Ah guess...your injury...it's left some things fuzzy. Maybe it'll all come back..." she suggested, "Ah...Ah have to go. Ah have...stuff to do..." she lied.
"Okay..." he frowned a little.
"Ah...hope you'll feel better soon," she quietly murmured, and with that she left him there with his confusion.
END OF PART TWO
Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! Thanks for all the reviews for part one. Glad so many of you like the first part and are glad that the sequel has started already. Sorry this part took so long to upload, real life does like to get in the way at times. Hopefully part three won't take so long. :)