A/N: I'm sick, blah. pay attention please. Maybe you can figure it out in this chapter. There's a few more left.
The clouds still crowded the sky, but there was no sign of rain.
Remy stood at the window, staring out through the glass silently. Rogue sat in the chair in his room, staring at him equally taciturn. It been like this for a while. Quiet like this. Both of them trying to figure out what was going on.
Rogue hadn't seen Logan since he had "gotten back" some time ago. She'd skillfully avoided him, not wanting to face him not believing her again. Well, Logan seemed occupied with other things going around the mansion since having returned. She wouldn't be making the trip to the Professor this time.
She hadn't talked to John since their last encounter either. She'd been afraid. He wouldn't believe her this time. It was unlikely he would take the time to listen to her strange story anyway. Logan was back.
Regardless of the fact that Remy knew he had never left, Logan was back. It wasn't a comfort to either of them to know they were the only ones. It only meant now that Rogue's sanity wasn't the only one in question.
"We not crazy," he said finally, speaking to himself more than to her. She wondered if her thoughts had somehow disturbed him from his own and if he knew he had answered hers as if they'd been spoken aloud. He hadn't turned to look at her yet—his words not spoken for her comfort, but as an afterthought. But at least the silence had been broken.
She hesitated before whispering his name, "Remy?"
He turned to look at her, meeting her uncertain gaze for a few moments before turning back to look out the window. His brows were knit with intent.
"Remy's gon' figure it out," he murmured.
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Despite the drizzle, the sun still shone demanding the rain's retreat.
It hadn't had it's turn for quite a while. There'd been no answers either, but she'd stopped searching. Or hoping. She'd never really been looking anyway. Not expecting there to be anything to find.
Remy though, he'd never stopped looking. Not since he'd gotten back. Rogue didn't know who was more confused—him, having popped into a world where nothing made any sense, or her, feeling the world she knew fall apart.
"Chère, tell Remy 'bout dat dream again!" She looked at him startled by his unexpected entrance.
"Bout dat dream wit Remy 'n it." He was breathing as if he'd run there to find her in the kitchen where she sat at a table, watching the students outside.
"Um... I'm in a room, and I hear your voice calling me. There's someone else there, but it's not you. It's someone I don't recognize...," she paused. The dream never got any clearer anytime she had it. "I don't know. I can't see him. He doesn't seem... good."
"Dat man. He sittin'? What's his name? What Remy say t' y'?" He was rushing through the questions, still breathing hard. His hands grasped the table as leaned closer to her.
"Yes, he's sittin'. I don't know his name. He never said it. You... You only called me Chère. That's all I remember Remy. It never really changes. It always like that." She was kind of scared. "What's going on?"
"Rogue, Remy know what's goin' on 'n dat room! It's him! It's—" he was still talking. One moment almost yelling, the next his warning voiceless. He continued talking, unaware that she couldn't hear him.
"Remy? Remy! I can't hear you. What's going on!... " She stood up from the table, truly frightened now. Suddenly, Remy seemed to have stopped talking. Looking just as frightened, he took a step back from the table. Pain wrenched his face, and suddenly he fell to his knees as he grabbed his head.
"Remy!" she moved from where she stood towards where he was doubled over, but before she could reach him, a light seemed to emanate from him, quickly becoming brighter until it encompassed his body and then disappeared, taking him with it.
"REMY!" But she was screaming at no one.
He was gone.
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