'When chance next brought Remy back, he was in the company of a powerful young beauty. I disliked her instantly. Adjectives such as "heavenly" and "pure" are trite, but I believe they accurately described her. Thus, it may be called ironic that her touch was once lethal, but as Heaven has ever been destructive, the trait is actually perfectly logical. She was not an agent of Heaven, but she shared their strong spirit. No broken heart would break her; no crooked power could corrupt her. "Rogue" was her name and I wanted her as far from my cherished ward as possible.
'Following the deaths of her tormented brother and beloved father, Belle inherited their bloodlust. Pain was her heirloom. As the last of her line, I had to prepare an alternate heir in the event she would perish without child.
'Remy was the logical candidate.
'My warmonger queen then – and periodically throughout the years – attempted to murder Rogue. The quest was doomed, but the true objective was to remind Remy of his duty. In this, we were successful. His heart remained tied to hers by the unbreakable bond of pain.
'Unfortunately for me, he welcomed another demon: the one called Death. Only those important to my Master are assigned guardians, so to avoid conflicting interests, I turned my eye elsewhere. But Death was young yet. And weak. When he requested my aid, who was I to refuse? We collaborated together and through painstaking patience, reunited our wards.
'Death must see what I see when I peer into the future: that their child will grow into a man of such clout and suffering that his flesh acts as a lightning rod for my Master.
'The Living Devil.
'Remy and Belle both possess abilities of which most mortals can only dream. I cannot pretend power is inconsequential compared to spiritual sorrow, but misery is so sweet and enduring that I cherish it above all things. Death grounded me. He reminded me that in this realm, feeling is not enough. One must have supremacy to support it.
'Our union is as much responsible for this child as the union of our wards. It pains me to realize I may never see it come to fruition.'
…
Ulysses, tired of waiting, sighed: "Are you going to stall until the end of time?"
"Let this be a lesson, liaison of the Tyrant," said Razorfist. "Set terms when you contract my Master."
"Move or I'll consider the match null."
Black pawn to D5.
…
Gris-Gris crept into Razorfist's house knowing the man was away. He'd come looking for the letters. There was no doubt in his mind that the new recruit was sending intel to rival Guilds. Before Marius died, he'd made Gris-Gris swear to protect his only living child. It had been many years since Bella Donna needed anyone's protection, but she was in labor and more vulnerable than ever. She couldn't deal with a traitor, too. So her godfather would act as her father in his place, rest his soul.
On the second floor, down the hall, inside the master room, the enormous body of William Scott aka Razorfist was hunched over a desk: writing furiously.
Gris-Gris withdrew his sidearm, Scott flinched, and a round blast through his skull. The man slumped over, leaving the older man free to read the memoires of the demon. He soon wished he hadn't. Either Razorfist had been insane… or Belle was about to birth the Antichrist.
Unbeknownst to Gris-Gris, William shared the identity of Razorfist with his twin brother, and when Douglas returned home, he had two corpses in his house.
…
Ulysses observed the board and grunted, "Good move." He leaned back. "Tell me, what will you do if this child isn't like his parents? What if he wants to be a superhero like Rogue?"
A cockroach-clicking hiss was thrown at the table.
"Don't like Rogue, do you?"
Two voices – one young and one furious – roared, "Speak her name again and I'll tear out your fucking throat!"
"Let this be a lesson to set better terms, slave."
…
Tante Mattie furiously knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked again and again until someone finally answered.
"Why're you here?!" Razorfist snarled.
She stood to her full five feet. "Heard gunfire. Knew you wouldn't call for police and y' can't call Belle. Thought I'd stop by and make sure wasn't no one hurt."
Blank, hungry eyes searched for a fight. Tante Mattie was alarmed, but before she could react, he told her to leave and slammed the door shut. He rubbed his face. It was a calculated risk: letting her live. If she never reached Belle's house, the laboring mother would be forced to seek a hospital, which she would need to deliver safely. Letting the midwife live meant Belle would stay at home… where she would die.
Ulysses hadn't been expecting that gambit. He carefully considered his next play.
White King to D1.
…
Manhattan
It was destined to be an extraordinary day of ordinary standards. When Rogue, recently returned to the X-Men fold, decided to host a reunion dinner for her old Unity Squad, she kinda knew something would ruin it. A villain would attack. Or the world would end. Superheroes tempted fate when they made concrete plans. So imagine her disappointment when literally nothing happened.
Twenty minutes before dinner, she finally broke down and bought some food. Last-minute text messages assigned dessert, appetizers, and salad to Wade, Pietro, and Alex respectively. Nathan had never RSVP'ed so she didn't know if he was coming or not; and Jericho would have difficulties enough finding Rogue's penthouse without having to find a store, too. Apparently, voodoo magic was less sophisticated than Google maps.
Cable arrived first – with a plus one, no less. Rogue had so rarely seen Emily, the Inhuman also known as Synapse, outside of her work uniform that she didn't recognize her at first. She was blindingly beautiful. Rogue instantly felt underdressed, but she hadn't had all day to beautify. Yeah, that was her excuse: party planning.
"Come on in," said Rogue, opening the door. "Glad Ah didn't ask you to bring food, too, since you had to stop for your date."
"Not his date. Mine." Pietro zipped inside, holding a veggie platter. "Where shall I put this?"
Rogue looked around, slightly lost. He sighed impatiently and then zipped around, stringing up Christmas lights and paper lanterns.
"How considerate," Emily tucked a lock of her long, black hair behind her ear.
"That's me!" He smiled as he dramatically opened the balcony door for her.
Rogue hid a chuckle. Now that they were no longer teammates, Emily and Pietro were free to pursue whatever they wanted. Rogue didn't know the details and she didn't really care to. But it was comical to watch two seasoned adventurers regress to blushing innocents in the flush of new love.
She tried to shut the door but someone pushed it back.
"Hey, honey!" Wade greeted. "We have a baby yet?"
Now it was her turn to blush. "Wha- Ah-"
"Calm down, everyone, I'm shooting blanks," he told the room at large. "I meant Gambit. Didn't you say his wife went into labor? I thought we had to have an apocalypse every time a new mutant was born."
Yes, Bella Donna had entered the first stages of birth two days ago. Remy sent a text message and Rogue still hadn't received an update. With a new baby boy, he wouldn't have much time to remember her, and never knowing when he might be sleeping, she never followed up with a noisy call. But she didn't want to share all this with the team.
She simply said: "Ah may have missed the group text, but I definitely would've noticed an apocalypse."
Emily raised a glass. "Salue."
Conversation easily turned to Pietro's daughter, Luna; and Nathan's daughter, Hope. Rogue was glad that they didn't immediately start discussing work. She hated those conversations. A little later, Alex and Janet arrived; and well into dinner, Jericho finally arrived, dazed and irritated from getting lost in Manhattan. Apparently, he became very animated when agitated. Rogue had never heard him talk as much as he did that night. The party was relaxed, cheerful – a success.
Emily and Pietro, the first to leave, promised to host the next event. (They were living together? It must be serious, then.) Jericho asked them to drop him off at the metro (afraid of getting lost again), and although it couldn't have been what Pietro wanted, he wouldn't lose face in front of his lady.
Alex couldn't hold a light-hearted conversation. Everything quickly turned to Scott, Scott's death, Emma and Emma's disappearance. Finally, Janet decided he'd had too much to drink and called a cab.
Nathan stayed for ages. Not that Rogue minded, but she was looking forward to getting some time alone with Wade. Without Hope, Cable had no reason to rush home. No one to talk to. It was pitiful, really, so she let him stay until after midnight.
When he finally left, she closed the door and sighed. "Ah've been holdin' that fart in for forty-five minutes."
"That's why I love you!" Wade laughed.
Maybe he'd meant it as a joke… Maybe he'd meant it platonically… but saying 'I love you' spoiled the night and she asked him to leave.
When had their relationship gotten 'I love you' serious? Again, maybe it'd been a joke… It probably was… but it was serious enough that she cared. She didn't want to care. Things were supposed to be light and easy with him. That's what had attracted her to him. If things got serious… did she still want it?
The glorious thing about Manhattan is there's always a distraction. She should've gone to see a movie or hit a bar or flown overheard for the unbeatable view. Instead, she ended up drinking alone in her penthouse, digging up old ghosts. Cody, the boy she'd accidentally put into a fifteen-year coma before his death, still had a sister living in Mississippi. Rogue never called as much as she said she would. And Irene, if she were still living, would be ninety-five this year. Mystique resented that Rogue never visited her grave, but it was too painful. Of course, she'd been to Xavier's – once – but she still hadn't made her peace. She'd gone to tell him how much he'd meant to her… Why had she never told him during his life?
Better question – why was she getting drunk and thinking about this shit?
She left the penthouse and went for a flight. It was slightly chilly but clear. This high up, she always had to be aware of planes, but this time she could relax and let the lights below blur together while she soared.
Remy was a father now. Worse, he shared this baby with his childhood sweetheart and ex-wife. Well, they weren't exes anymore – it was such a trashy soap-opera.
The man she loved didn't exist anymore. Deep down, she had always known they'd end up together. She never doubted his love for her. That confidence had really screwed her over. While she was out sowing her wild oats, he'd given up. He was supposed to move heaven and earth to prove his unshakeable, unconditional love. Wasn't that what love did? Whenever he'd faced a challenger for her heart, that's what he'd always done in the past. The rules hadn't changed; he had.
She thought she could drive him mad with jealousy. Instead, she'd driven him away. He pretended not to care. She returned the favor when he said good-bye. Did he expect her to beg him to stay? Was he waiting for her to come crawling back? That's not how they worked.
She kept waiting for her Remy to re-appear and softly say: "What're you doin', chere? Aren't you tired of all this yet? Come home. I miss you…"
Instead, he'd said those words to his other ex.
Traitor.
And of course, Belle took him back. She never put any demands on him, so he left everything – the X-Men, New York, and Rogue's backburner – to go back home. That wasn't love, it was convenience! Rogue waited for Remy to come to his senses, but he and Belle had turned into New Orleans's power-couple: flipping properties and re-vitalizing the area (which also worked to launder their illegal finances). According Rogue's math, Belle had gotten pregnant almost as soon as he moved back. She'd trapped him. So she'd gotten her man and he got to play modern-day Robin Hood and it was all so perfect that Rogue wanted to barf.
But she didn't know if he was happy. Maybe it'd been an accident and he felt honor-bound to stay. Maybe he missed her as much as she missed him. He didn't tell her anything anymore. Hell, she only found out he was going to be a daddy when his wife needed help rescuing him from Purgatory.
Yet for some reason, she kept expecting him to call and say he'd made a mistake. It was surreal trying to envision a future without him.
Which brought her to Wade…
Was she keeping him at arm's length because she thought Remy would want her back? That was cruel. Wade didn't deserve to be her silver medal. And she could never make things work with Remy before; why did she think that would change? If she knew she'd never love Wade, perhaps this was the time to say so…
The problem was: she knew she'd never love anyone like she loved Remy. But he'd moved on and she didn't want to be alone…
Back at the penthouse, she saw two text messages from Remy. The first was a picture of a fat-faced newborn with the caption: Pax. 9.5 lbs. 21". Then – the words she'd longed to hear – 'Are you up?'
It was 3 am but when she called, he answered.
"Congratulations, daddy," she said.
He laughed sharply and asked, "Got a minute?"
"For you, sugah, I've got several."
"I didn't forget to text you. I know that's what you think… He just got here."
"Jesus, she labored this whole time?" Secretly, nothing thrilled her more than the idea of Belle in agony. Hopefully she pooped herself, too.
"Contractions started a couple nights ago," he said. "She wanted t' deliver at home so we waited till morning t' call Tante Mattie. By then, they were comin' every few minutes. Kept up all day and night but she wouldn't go to the hospital."
Uh-oh.
"He went into distress so I made her go. Practically carried her. And you know how I feel about hospitals. They did an emergency C-section but … It all happened so quick. They couldn't stop the bleeding, said she could bleed out."
Rogue covered her mouth and slid to the floor. Things like this didn't happen in the 21st century. Her heart hammered in her throat.
"They had to take her – she'll never have another baby," he said thickly. "I'm lucky to have this little guy."
"Is he okay? You said he was in distress."
"No. Yeah. No, he's fine."
"Is she okay? …Remy? Please tell me she's alright."
He'd turned the phone away from his smothered sobs.
"I'm on my way," she said loud enough for him to hear.
…
To Be Continued..