Chapter Four – It's Me

Rogue was awake when Remy returned to his bedroom; she was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing a pair of Xavier's issue jogging pants and sweatshirt – identical to what he was wearing. He felt somewhat amused that they matched.

She glanced over her shoulder to look at him, her hair was a strange tangled mess, hard and stringy looking in some places from where the hairspray she'd been using had been keeping last night's updo neat. "Hi," she said quietly.

He climbed onto the bed and moved behind her, "did you sleep well?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

"I slept. I wouldnt' say well," she was toying with a lock of her hair as she spoke.

He slid closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him, focusing on trying to block out the pain in his wound as he did so, "I didn't sleep well either," he let his chin rest upon her shoulder.

"Careful," she tried to move away, "I'm not in the mood for your electric shocks today."

Remy gave something of a laugh, and wrestled her down to the bed, "why not. You were last night," he mused.

She looked away from him, her green eyes dark and distant.

"You're mad at me," he sighed, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? For what? It's not like you did anything."

"And yet I get the feeling that was my error," he smirked.

Rogue looked at him, her expression annoyed, "and yet you find it incredibly funny all the same."

"No I don't," he hovered above her, his nose inches away from hers, "I'm just trying to make it feel less awkward is all."

"Yeah, well it's not working," Rogue sighed, she turned her head from his.

"C'mon, Chere, we've been getting along good lately. Lets not spoil it with arguing on the first day of the year."

"What would you like to do? Pretend like there's not a problem here?"

"Hell, Rogue," he sighed and sat up, kneeling above her, straddling her thighs, "I know there's a fucking problem. It's ME, alright."

She seemed somewhat surprised that he was suddenly taking the blame; she said nothing, just stared at him.

"I don't want to have sex. I haven't really wanted it in a very long time," he confessed.

"You've been telling yourself that because you're with me," Rogue remarked.

"I wasn't active for six months before I was brought back here. You hear me? That's nearly a year without sex. God the closest thing I've had to anything is..." he paused.

Her expression went dull, "when I accidentally brought Carol Danvers back."

"No. I accidentally brought her back," he reminded, "because of a stupid impulse. It was me who kissed you, remember? But that's not why I..." he sighed.

"Remy, what are you trying to tell me?" Rogue sat up slowly.

"I just..." he trailed off and he looked away. How could he explain how he felt, how the feelings just weren't there, that the drive wasn't behind any touch that she might want? That anything she did to him would feel like empty meaningless pleasure?

Her gloved hands cupped his cheeks and she turned his head so he would look at her, "tell me."

"I have no drive. Even when I pretend I do...the feelings are hardly there..." he finally decided to admit the truth – by the look on her face he already felt like it might have been one of the biggest mistakes he could have made.

"You're not attracted to me?" she asked.

"Of course I'm attracted to you, that's not the issue. I'm just..." he sighed, "y'know what, this is stupid, and it's such a non-issue."

"Remy are you trying to tell me that you're..." she paused, trying to find a nicer way to word it, "not working down there?"

"It's working," he assured, not impressed with her rewording of impotence. "It's my brain that isn't. My mind is too...fucked up right now. How can I let myself feel anything when I have all these thoughts of other stuff going on in my head?"

"Maybe the problem is you aren't letting me help you forget those things. If you'd just give me a chance, maybe it would help if we just..." she placed her hand gently on his thigh and moved it upwards.

"Why does it always have to come to this? Why are you so...obsessed with wanting to...to touch me, to make me feel like that?"

Rogue gave a somewhat bemused laugh, "because...I can't give you much else."

"You give me plenty..."

She laughed, "yeah...you can hold my hand and hug me...it's not much of a comfort the rest of the time..."

"It's comfort enough for me..." he smiled a little, "and believe me if...there ever came a time when I couldn't wait...then you know I'd let you know...I'm not shy about asking for what I want when it's something I do want."

Rogue nodded, "alright. I'll let it go, for now..." she stroked his hair from his face.

"Listen...the mansion is out of a lot of stuff, and I figure, since I'm the only one who didn't drink last night that I could drive up there and get us some groceries. Why don't you come with me?"

"Okay," she nodded, she brushed her thumb against his cheek tenderly. "Maybe we could go for breakfast too..."

"Sounds like heaven," he grinned.