Slight Return

Part Seven


Dearest Remy,

This has been probably the hardest letter I've ever had to write. I've never been good at trying to put my thoughts down onto paper, and trying to get out all I've had to stay to you for months in a single page is hard without turning this into the Twilight Saga...or War and Peace.

I know you don't want to hear any of it, you probably don't want to read any of it either, but it's important that you know the truth. I know you'll be sitting there thinking of ripping up this page without even reading it, asking yourself why you should give me a chance to explain? For the most part, I expect it really...you've already made your mind up that there's things you don't want to know...but my therapist says I'll never be straight, I'll never be over the anxiety and the guilt until I tell you those things, and part of me thinks he might be right.

Some of the things I need to say are too hard to say out loud, others...can't be said in a letter. What I can say here, I'll do my best to try and make you understand why I did what I did...and why I said what I said...

So where do I begin? Do I start where I arrived at the gates of Magneto's warehouse hoping for a cure? Or do I start at the point where I began to feel so low that I wasn't sure there was much point trying to have a future when I couldn't even feel like part of the present I was already in?

The suicidal thoughts...I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of it long before I ever went into the machine. Can you imagine being my age, being eighteen and a prisoner in your own body, never having lovers, children, always having to keep everyone at arms length? I didn't see a future. Academically, I could have done something (if I'd had the aptitude I guess), but what good is education and money if you can't go out and have life experiences to go with the money you made from all the education? What's the point of working for nothing?

I was getting tired of watching Jean and Scott together, watching friends here go out on dates and get into relationships while I'm left behind. I sat there thinking if this would go into my adult life...into thirties and forties...perhaps I'd always be alone. And that was when it struck me that I could ask Magneto for help.

I wish I could say Magneto took pity on me, but it wasn't pity he had...it was complete opportunity. He was in the process of planning a machine already to help Wanda...I never even known about it until had already happened. When I came to him that day, he saw that I could be the test subject. A willing participant had just fallen right into his hands. So convenient.

Even if I had known what I was going to be back at that moment, I'd have still made the jump. I was desperate; it wasn't that I wasn't thinking. I was thinking. I was thinking and I was overthinking. Thinking of all the things I wanted, the things I'd never had, and probably never would if I didn't at least take this chance.

I moved into the Warehouse, joined the Acolytes. You were my leader, you were my friend. You made the transition from being in the X-Men to being an Acolyte so easy. You made me feel welcome and wanted, and we grew close of over the weeks as Magneto built the evolution machine, and all the while you were trying to convince me to change my mind, that I was making a huge mistake and that I wasn't a lost cause just because of what my powers do.

This is where things get tricky to try and explain, Remy...

How do I explain to you the parts that happened next without telling you the parts you really don't want to hear, the parts that could hurt you more than you really should be and deserve to be? I never want to have you to relive certain things, if I skip it, will it still all make sense?

The incident where I nearly died...I think that's where things changed for us somewhere. There were feelings you had – things I hadn't truly trusted until I had stolen your memories well after. You had been feeling something for me for a while, but you weren't sure, it was...unfamiliar? It was new. I wasn't sure what I felt for you in the beginning...it was new for me too. We were starting to get close and then I had what I guess I'll call an accident.

When I almost died, you were frightened, I saw it in your memories long after. When I recovered, I was angry with you because of your involvement in what had brought it all about. We didn't talk for bit...feelings were starting to change more and more. You came to my motel room on Halloween night at the Bayville Best motel, my car broke down, I couldn't get home and no one would come pick me up; you got wind of where I was and even though we weren't talking, you came in like the knight in shining armour determined to save the day.

You were upset...something had happened, something I'm not sure I can ever really tell you about. All I can tell you is that you had been affected, and you were hurt. Sometimes I think back on that night and wonder if you were trying to save me from being stranded at that motel, or if you came to me wanting me to save you...

That was the night we finally figured out that we cared about each other, that was the night it started making sense for both of us. We spent the night on the bed, just lying next to each other, holding on. Nothing happened. I swear...not that it really could have anyway.

There were complications, we somehow struggled through them. You told me you loved me...we had experiences together, you said you didn't care about my powers and you tried to show me what I could have without needing to go through the machine.

I was desperate for the cure, Remy, but being with you made me feel even more desperate. I was scared I'd lose you because of what I couldn't do, what I couldn't be, which was normal. You've fleeted from so many flings with girls, one to the next, and every time I thought about it, I wondered how long it'd be before you got bored of being limited. I spent nights awake thinking about how much I wanted to be with you, how I wanted to give you everything you ever wanted or needed...

You said you had everything you needed, you didn't want or need anything from me except for me to say I loved you.

Except I couldn't...because part of me still felt like I couldn't have love if I couldn't act upon it one hundred percent. It had to be all or nothing.

Evolution became even more important, and the closer Magneto got to finishing the machine, the more and more we fought about why I shouldn't go through the machine. You were kicked out of the Acolytes and the warehouse because you figured out what I was to Magneto...a guinea pig, his little lab rat and test subject and it incensed you. You lost the head with him about that and everything that had been going on...and it cost you the leadership of the team, your place within it, and your home.

You were kicked out and you came to live here, with the X-Men.

I stayed with the Acolytes, with Magneto.

I know now that I was a fool to have just stood there and let you walk out, let Magneto make me think that I had to stay, that I was doing the right thing. Every time I think of it, my stomach gets all in knots. I let you walk out and I didn't even stand by you the way you tried to stand by me. I was selfish...I wanted what I wanted, I still wanted to be normal, I still wanted to be with you, and I wasn't going to walk out without getting what I wanted...I'll never forgive myself for that.

We met late one night a few nights before the machine was going to be completed...and we talked in the car about things. I had to know where you thought the relationship was going to go with me. Was it going to be a life together or was this all temporary? You said you didn't know. I wanted to know if it was because of the way I am...because none of it was going to be possible, you tried to tell me different.

That night you asked me to tell you I loved you and I still couldn't, I couldn't say it, not without being able to be there for you one hundred percent. I told you I wasn't going to say I love you until I could kiss you, until I could kiss you and mean it...

I asked you to be there for my evolution, Remy. I made promises to you that if you came...you could have everything you wanted. Everything. There would be nothing I wouldn't do for you. At the time that promise scared me for so many reasons...

The night the evolution machine was finally finished, I was a wreck, waiting, convinced you'd never show, that you'd stay away on principle, because you didn't believe in what I was doing. I waited and waited, growing sicker and sicker with the fear you'd finally left me.

When you showed, my heart leapt...it felt like everything was starting to fall into place, I'd have you, I'd have my evolution, I'd be able to taste of a normal life.

The machine put me in agony, long thick needles stuck in every part of me, right through to the bone...it felt like electricity was shaking my bones and liquid fire was burning through my veins and arteries, my guts felt ripped apart, my entire body stretched and pulled and every muscle seemed to ping and snap and tighten...but my mind stayed so lucid...and all the while I could only focus on one thing...that when I got out, I would be kissing you, that we'd be together.

When I came out, I was exhausted and aching...intense agony that left me weak. You caught me as I fell out and you held me in your arms...the pain didn't matter any more...not the burnin' feelin' all over my skin, not the weird way my fingers felt frostbitten...it all felt like it was worth it, I lay there in your arms drained...so comfortable. I felt sick a little, dizzy, but I felt like myself, it felt...like nothing was wrong.

I said to you 'it's time', and you were so freakishly shy at the thought of having Magneto, Logan and the Professor there to watch us kiss. I told you I didn't care, I'd waited long enough...and I told you the words you'd asked to hear. That I love you. You were so happy...you asked me to say it again. I did. I'd have said it a hundred times, a thousand, a million.

For months I've been replaying the memory in my head, I always blame myself for being the one who kissed you and put you into the coma, but...the truth of it is that you were the first to kiss me...soft and light. I remember your lips were dry, I remember I could feel the hair on your chin. It wasn't until you kissed me harder that it happened...

Everything I felt was intense, floods of feelings and memories, thoughts and experiences, all kinds of sensations that were yours suddenly became mine, nothing made sense...I felt almost like I was you...that we were the same person.

I saw in your head how much you had loved me...how much you didn't want me to through the evolution process and how very much you did not want to be with me because of it. All the promises I'd made you, those weren't what you wanted from me, you wanted me, not what I could give you if the process worked...

I think I might have blacked out...or that the memories and thoughts were so powerful that I lost myself, because when I eventually did get back to myself, you were on the floor, and Magneto was trying to resuscitate you. I was frantic...you were dying before me and all I could think was that it was my fault, Logan tried to calm me down, I threw him across the room, I didn't know that would happen, I started to panic.

I screamed at Magneto right there while he was trying to keep you alive, he was doing CPR right on you and I was standing screaming at him, blaming him for what he'd done, every other night I have the dream that he stops trying to save you, and you die because we were too busy yelling at each other. I still feel guilty about it, it still kills me I couldn't do anything to help, couldn't even think straight.

I was breaking things, bending things, everything I touched was at danger, I was so confused and in a blind panic, I took off...when I got outside I took to the air, I don't know how it happened, I think I tripped on the door frame...I was up in the air, and then I fell and landed into the fence, got caught on the wire.

They took me home, my part in Magneto's plan was done, I was free...you were taken to the hospital room downstairs, and I was left to my room, crying and lost, my heart felt like it was falling apart. You were alive, but nothing was happening...you couldn't even breathe on your own. It struck me right then that the sacrifice I'd made wasn't myself, it was you...

They asked me if I wanted to see you, but I couldn't go, couldn't even look at you...I didn't see you in that condition again, I didn't see you for months...heat breaking every time someone mentioned your name. I never saw your face again until you awakened from that coma.

Everything seemed pointless that night, there was nothing to live for, just pain, torture, living in a cage for the rest of my life. I remembered this razor in Kitty's drawer on the dresser...it's for cutting hair, it's a straight razor. I took off the cover and I stared at it, I remember exactly how shiny it was...and how sharp it looked. I slashed it across my wrist twenty goddamn times but it wouldn't even cut through me, didn't even leave the tiniest bit of a mark. I took handfuls of my hair and started cutting through it with the thing, I wanted to be sure it wasn't blunt, that it could cut. I saw handfuls of my hair fall and knew the blade wasn't the problem...I put it to my neck and tried to slice, it wouldn't work, I tried stabbing and slicing every part of me with it, my clothes were hanging in tatters and I was intact...until Kitty found me that way, and then I realised as whole as my body was...I was essentially broken.

Ever since that night, there have been nightmares. You always feature, the principal cast, the leading man, the star...and every night I watched you die, or become a monster who tries to kill me...

The nightmares have started to go away thanks to the drugs and the therapy. The anxiety and the panic attacks, they're going away too. But the one thing I can't make go away, Remy, is the guilt.

The guilt is with me every morning, every night, from the minute I wake up to the minute I go to bed, it's there at the back of everything like a shadow lurking waiting to take me down. The guilt that reminds me of why I did all this, why it all happened, why I left you as virtually broken as I am.

Because I'm selfish. Because I wanted what I wanted and no one was going to take it away from me. That's the reason why when I asked you if you loved me back in March and you told me no, I told you the truth at that moment...because of the selfishness. I wanted you to love me, I wanted things to be like they were; after what had happened in your room I'd almost thought things could possibly be that way again...but you broke my heart. You hurt me right at that moment and I wanted to hurt you, and the only way I knew how to hurt you and make you feel it was to make you feel like I felt...shameful and angry...and devastated.

I'm not asking for forgiveness, Remy, I want you to know that. I'm fine with never being forgiven. But what I have to be sure of is that you know I'm sorry, I've been sorry for a long time and I'll continue to be sorry for the rest of my life for what I done to your life, and to mine.

I've finally taken responsibility for what happened, I've accepted that there's things I can't change and that there's no easy way out of this. I've worked hard to get where I am now, fought to get to this point.

The things I've told you in this letter have been in my head for months, in rehearsed things I had intended to tell you face to face but you wouldn't give me the chance. Maybe it's selfish again, but I had to get these things out in the open, so you know the story. At least part of it, anyway.

The sad part is, as rehearsed as everything I've just written is, it still took me nearly four days of writing and re-writing, crumpling up letters and un-crumpling them just to get to this final draft...I think finally I've said things the way I needed to. I think finally I've managed to get out what had to be said.

Like I said, I don't need forgiveness...you said to me a long time ago that the only person anything I do matters to is myself, and that if I have to do anything, whether it get better, or feel something, it has to be for me, not for anyone else.

I'll never forgive myself, Remy, not for anything I've done to you, nor myself. But I'll live with it, I've accepted it, life is going to go on now the way it was meant to, by adapting and enduring whatever comes, good or bad.

But I have to reiterate again how sorry I am and how thankful I am for all you've done for me, for all the belief you put in me, and for all the help you've ever given me with everything that happened after what I did.

I hope that we can put everything behind us and move on, I hope we can find peace with each other, because as much as I still care about you, I don't think I can stand losing you as a friend.

Do you remember what you said once? We were sitting in the car and you asked me if when I absorbed a person did I ever take their soul too. I said I didn't know and you said you were missing some of your soul...you thought I might have some of it tucked away inside of me somewhere. Ah told you I did, but you never understood then how deeply I meant it, how deeply I felt it, and how much it hurt me when you said that it would make us soul mates.

You're always going to be my soul mate, Remy LeBeau, whether we're friends, or a thousand miles apart. No matter what happens, you are always going to be an important and impossibly painful but wonderful part of my life, I just hope you can find it in yourself to accept a part of me in yours, even as friends.

I won't expect an answer, I don't expect anything except that you'll know I'm sorry, and that I mean it.

Your soul mate,

Rogue


Remy stared down at the letter in his hands, he wasn't sure at what point he'd reached the end or how long he'd been sitting with it there lightly in his fingers. He'd found it in a sealed purple envelope sitting upon the cabinet beside his bed when he had arrived home from work that Thursday.

It wasn't so much a letter as it was fifteen pages of explanation and apology. The handwriting slightly shaky (he assumed from restraint on the gel ink pen) and the signature unnatural, as if it'd been the first time she'd written it in some time.

The entire letter left him feeling uneasy. Explanations were fine and dandy, but there were things missing from the letter, important elements that had been completely omitted and stepped around.

He supposed it were better to just ignore those missing things. He hadn't wanted to know any of this to begin with and he certainly didn't want to know what Rogue seemed to think could possibly hurt him. This letter already hurt enough as it was.

Why couldn't he remember a lot of these incidents? So many months had passed and still details like Rogue's coming out of the evolution machine, or what caused her accident...they were completely non-existent. It was frustrating, being told these things happened but having no memory of it. He supposed a deadly kiss was liable to do that.

The very candid admissions about her first suicide attempt had left him feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Knowing how frantic she could get, he could all too well easily picture her reaching for a blade and slicing at herself. That was an image that would probably haunt him for a while.

He gave a deep sigh and put the letter back in the envelope. He supposed he should have destroyed it right then but it felt wrong to do so, like it'd be negating all it took for her to say the things that clearly she'd been struggling with for months.

She might feel better now getting it all out, he wasn't sure he ever would feel better.

Rogue's ending the letter with her admission about being soul mates worried him even more than the suicide confessions did. Can people be friends and soul-mates? He wondered. He'd always thought a soul mate was a close lover, a wife or a husband, not a friend.

Not sure this is gonna work out, Remy thought miserably as he put the envelope on the cabinet; his eyes caught a small black velvet box; he'd missed it when the letter had caught his eye.

"What's this?" he wondered as he reached for it. It was then he realised he already knew exactly what it was; he'd seen the contents before when he'd been raking through Rogue and Kitty's belongings to find a stash of pills. He opened the box and stared in at the pendent and chain within, the bleeding heart necklace, it looked so new and shiny, the red gems sparkling brilliantly in the bright sun coming through the dormer window.

The necklace looked like it had barely if at all been worn. Remy stared down at it, trying to make sense of this.

I gave her this, he realised. That's why she's giving it to me, she's giving it back. It's a gesture, like she's accepting it's over.

These two contradictions were confusing. Soul mates sounded suggestive, and hopeful, but the necklace being handed back had an air of finality about it. He gazed at the pretty silver thing feeling there was a sense of irony here. He must have given her this at one point perhaps not because he loved her or cared for her, but because his heart bled for her.

Was her heart bleeding for him now? She certainly had admitted it was broken.

That ain't important right now, Remy. What's important is that she's apologised, she's made a gesture, now what do you do.

This was a big question. What was he supposed to do? What was appropriate for a situation like this? Should he write her back?

No, bad idea, I ain't that eloquent on paper. Besides...she didn't ask for a response, right? Wouldn't matter if I said anything about it or not either, she knows I would have gotten that letter. She won't expect anything. She wants things us to just...put things behind us, be friends.

Remy winced. She might be able to put it all behind her...not sure I can.

Yes, there was that other problem. It wasn't the past between them that made Remy uncomfortable and left him feeling like he wasn't entirely convinced he could hold a friendship with her, it was the intense and uncontrollable lust. Saturday had been embarrassing enough when he'd had a spontaneous orgasm right at the breakfast table, but Sunday had been downright humiliating when he'd decided to take a dip out in the pool while all the others were lounging around and Rogue had come out to spend time with her friends, wearing a black swimsuit beneath a see-through blue kaftan (which he was sure belonged to Kitty rather than Rogue). The excitement of seeing what was behind that thin mesh had been enough to set his thoughts racing. He'd had to swim around for almost twenty-five minutes hiding the embarrassment that had refused to subside until everyone had their backs turned and he'd managed to grab his towel and dart inside.

Since Sunday he'd been avoiding even looking in Rogue's direction thinking perhaps it was simply just her appearance that set it off. At the dinner table on Tuesday someone had asked Rogue how training was at Muir Island. All she had said was 'it's so hard'. Somehow that had been enough to set him off, he'd spent the entire dinner picking at his food and trying to ignore the raging discomfort in his jeans beneath the table.

Yesterday evening it had been a Danger Room session. It was Rogue's first session since her return, and she had a new uniform, a black leather number with absolutely no armor; she simply didn't need it. The cut of the uniform clung to every part of her like a second skin. Watching her flying through the air, rolling and ducking and punching and slamming things down dressed like that had been highly erotic.

He'd admittedly expected something of the like might happen, which is why on this particular day he'd decided to wear his long leather coat (which he hadn't even known he'd had until it had come out of storage during a recent clean out). He didn't remember buying the damn thing, but it couldn't have been found at a better time as he'd been able to hide the bulge by buttoning the thing at the front to make sure it hung loose enough around him to hide any telling signs of arousal.

Had a lot of explaining to do that day when I nearly collapsed from the heat, he mused. Cold shower couldn't have come sooner that day.

He hadn't seen Rogue today but he was sure something she would do would probably set him off. It seemed impossible to avoid. He was going into a strange state of arousal, his sex drive hitting an all time high, but the problem was it was only in her company, only with thoughts of her, and that just wasn't acceptable to him.

If you're gonna be friends, you need to get this problem sorted. You can't go through the rest of your life getting a massive hard on every time you see your friend. Someone's gonna notice eventually. Anyway, you better fix it before you end up having a repeat of Saturday.

He glanced to his phone to check for messages; he'd been to see Rose on Tuesday after work and he'd gotten Rowan's number during the brief moment she'd found time to speak with him. They had sent texts to each other back and fourth a few times, it leaving him slightly apprehensive that Saturday couldn't come fast enough.

It was the first time in a long time he was sure he'd looked forward to anything. What he was most looking forward to was being comfortable with Rowan. It felt that way now, he had no worries about embarrassing erections or racing thoughts with Rowan. Sexual feelings wouldn't be a problem with her.

At least not at first, Remy thought dryly. Gonna be a point somewhere down the lines it's gonna be though. She doesn't strike me as a one-night-stander, but there's a good chance she'll want somethin' eventually. Guess I'll just have to use my other talents until I find a cure for impotency.

Just as he was about to put the phone down the screen lit up with an icon claiming that a new message had arrived. He tapped the screen of the cheap smartphone and read the message as it popped up; it was from Rowan.

"Hey, just wondering if U figured out what movie U want 2 watch on Sat?"

Remy sat thinking about this. What movie was a girl like Rowan going to want to watch. A chickflick? Pretty standard, he supposed. He could get an entire box set of them from Jean's bedroom, he was sure she wouldn't mind his borrowing them as long as he brought them back. He was sure she probably wouldn't notice it'd even gone from the stack of similar moves anyway.

Maybe better to ask, he thought. Don't want to screw this up.

"What do U want 2 C?" Remy typed in and hit send, he drew his breath and waited anxiously for the reply.

It took a couple of minutes.

"Goodfellas is on TV at 9pm", she text back.

Remy felt his heart leap in his chest. That there, that was a sign right there. He'd never mentioned to the girl that this was one of his favourite films.

"I love that movie!" He text back excitedly.

"Me 2! :)" She responded, the smiley face next to the words made him grin a little.

"I'll B over at about 8 on Saturday," typed in Remy, he hit send and waited.

"C U then," was her final response.

Remy put the phone down, his heart skipping a little. He wasn't sure why he felt so strangely happy. It had been a while since he'd felt this way.

Good things are happening, he told himself, Rogue apologised, we're going to put things behind us, and Rowan and me are gonna have a great night watching a good film and hopefully drinking expensive wine. Life is going pretty good. Things are looking up.

Remy just hoped things were going to keep looking up.


End of Part Seven


Wow, Rogue writes a lengthy letter, doesn't she? LOL (all fifteen pages haha). Hopefully the re-cap of everything from the first story didn't bore too many people (there's always the option to skim over things, I suppose, haha).

Thanks to the awesome reviewers. Some very interesting thoughts. I quite liked Jean1's analysis of Remy's behaviour about him emulating the normal life because he's pretty much feeling defeated by his uselessness (believe me, it becomes slightly more noticeable later on, lol). Hope you're all having a good week and had a good Easter...we had a great Sunny weekend here and I got soooooooo much writing done, I got up to chapter twenty of this story written believe it or not. Hopefully more updates incoming some time soon :)

Anyway, off to bed I go before my Trazodone leaves me using the laptop as a pillow again, haha. Love you all!