DARKNESS WITHIN

Part Ten

*** Authors note: This chapter contains themes of suicide. Please beware of this before reading ahead.

It was the first emergency the X-Men had had in months; it happened during school hours just two days later when a news report came on television that in New York, a huge riot had broken out between mutants and humans. Remy only heard bits and pieces of the report as he had been making his way down the hall at the time it had came on. The pieces he did hear seemed serious enough that it had caused utter chaos in Time Square.

Remy stepped into the recreation room where the news report was on, the Professor was sitting in his chair, eyes glued to the screen, Logan, Hank, Ororo and Kitty were all standing by looking concerned.

"What's going on?" Remy asked curiously, noting the serious expression on their faces.

"Look at them all," Kitty whispered, gesturing to the screen which showed a birds eye view of the square with flocks of people battling it out, fires were being started, small explosions blasting.

"This jerk..." Kitty spoke up as the screen showed a New York politician giving a speech, "he's trying to lobby for this new law that'd mean mutants are prevented from having kids..."

"Seriously?" Remy folded his arms, raising an eyebrow, "how he gonna do that? Hand out condoms at the bottom of every bed?" he snorted.

The Professor cleared his throat, "hysterectomies for female mutants."

"You don't even want to know what they wanna do to us," Logan grunted. "They want to prevent any more mutants from being born, they think it's a disease that's going to cause some kind of catastrophic event that'll end the world. Mutants from all over the country have turned up at this stupid rally to cause chaos and people are getting hurt."

"We have to go there," Ororo decided.

"We don't have the man power for this," Logan noted, "the kids are at school and even if we could take them out...they're not ready to be put in the field with that many people...it's too dangerous."

"I'll summon Scott and Jean," the Professor stated.

"I'll go get into my uniform," Kitty was about to turn towards the door, but Logan caught her swiftly by the arm and swung her back.

"You're goin' nowhere," Logan stated.

"But-" Kitty gaped at him.

"No, you'll stay put," the Professor agreed with this.

"But...but why?" Kitty demanded looking almost hurt, "You're low on numbers, you need me out there!"

"You're exhausted, you're no use to us or yourself in that mess...you're liable to get yourself killed," Logan said impatiently.

The Professor added in, "besides..." as he gave her a rather strict look. Remy got the distinct feeling he was speaking to the petite girl telepathically. The unsaid conversation was capped off when the Professor continued vocally by saying, "someone always needs to be on standby here."

Remy cleared his throat, "I could do that," he offered.

"Thank you, but you're not trained on any of our equipment, and we need someone who fully understands what they are doing for this task," the Professor offered an uneasy smile, "Kitty will remain."

With a sigh, Kitty turned on her heel and without another word left the room. Remy had no idea where the girl was heading, but he assumed it was probably down into the basement somewhere.

"Is there anythin' I can do?" Remy asked. He wasn't sure he really wanted to be involved, but being the only person around here who had nothing to offer was beginning to slightly get to him. A month of being useless was bruising his ego like an overripe peach.

"Just get some rest," the Professor suggested, "You also look exhausted."

Remy felt helpless and incredibly impotent as he watched them all leave to go get ready for whatever battles lay ahead. It wasn't that he particularly wanted to be one of the X-Men but he would have enjoyed the chance to get out into the field and get involved in some action. He'd been cooped up too long in this place and lack of real exercise was only making him feel more and more useless as the days went on.

One thing did occur to him though.

This was the first time since he'd arrived that most of the household had left. The instructors were all going. Other than Kitty Pryde, the place would be practically abandoned...he could have free reign to sneak around and find some information. Hopefully somewhere there was some kind of evidence of what had led him to being brought here in the first place.

As soon as he heard the jet taking off, he moved slowly to the window trying not to burn his energy out too fast and he pulled the blinds apart to watch it disappearing into the horizon as it headed towards New York. This was his cue.

Time to do what I do best, he realised.

Rogue heard the blackbird taking off. As always, the entire mansion seemed to vibrate and rattle and the air seemed to thrum. She hadn't gotten out of bed for eighteen hours, the last time she'd moved had been to go to the bathroom.

A glass of Pepsi and a sandwich still lay at the side of her air mattress. There were only three bites out of one side of the sandwich. She couldn't manage any more than that, she just felt nauseous, and too weak to get down any more. She'd been finding it increasingly hard to eat as the days progressed. At meal times, she was still supervised of course but no one could force her to eat. She'd learned little tricks to get them off of her back. Whenever her suicide-watcher had turned their attention even for a second, Rogue would hide some of the food in a plastic bag she'd been keeping under her covers. She'd eat just enough to try and prevent the hunger pains from becoming unbearable, but secretly hoped that perhaps death by starvation might only be a week or two away now.

She was beginning to suspect that they might be catching on though. Her weight loss had concerned them all, and it had been brought up but as she had not spoken in weeks, she wouldn't respond regarding it. Instead, she'd shrug, and eat whatever was offered and find ways to get rid of the food as she could.

Rogue supposed she had to hand it to the X-Men for their patience and tolerance. Not many would be willing to continually invest time in a lost cause, and especially not one who no longer showered, washed her hair or changed her clothes. The closest thing to any complaint about this came with Kitty Pryde, who four times a day would silently Febreeze the room, including the blankets over Rogue.

Sighing as she sat up on the air mattress, Rogue moved her unwashed greasy hair back from her face. Her body ached from being still for so long, and she was sure that she was getting a bed-sore on her side. She wondered if she left it long enough without mentioning that it would possibly become infected and kill her.

Probably no such luck, she thought as she pulled herself up and moved slowly to the window to see the Blackbird disappearing into the dull clouds of a grey afternoon. The leaving of the jet implied to her that the remaining X-Men in the mansion had left for a mission. The others were at school and at college. Could it be that they had finally left her in the mansion alone? Had they finally had enough of her that they'd abandoned her?

Ah wouldn't blame them, she thought as she left the bedroom tiptoeing quietly and she peered down the halls, listening for sounds of people nearby. Nothing. Not a peep. She racked her brains. This could be her chance for a successful attempt at finally offing herself. But how? Blades didn't work, hanging herself had been unsuccessful. What else was there? She supposed she could always throw herself into the lake, but she had a sneaking suspicion that her body would betray her and simply float to the top regardless of how much she'd try to drown herself. The weather out there today was far too calm for the water to pull her down.

Ah suppose Ah could try to hang myself again, she mused. She supposed that would be an exercise in futility as most of the strong ropes had most likely been hidden. Anything dangerous had been put out of her way, as if they had baby-proofed the entire mansion.

It has to be now. This may be my last chance. It'll be easier for everyone...they'll mourn, but then they'd see it was for the best and they'd get on with their lives. The lives that Ah'm screwin' up for them. And they won't have to live in fear and neither will Ah. It's the best for everyone...they'd have to see it that way eventually. Eventually they'd forget about me, just like Remy has.

Remy sighed as he used his lockpicking tools almost clumsily, his technique seemed slightly marred by lack of practice. He'd found the lockpicking kit days ago, hidden in the solid cardboard flap inside his bag and had been silently telling himself since that there would be an opportunity soon that he would have the chance to use them.

It had taken him nearly ten minutes just to get into the office. He had to commend the Professor for at least having the decency to make this a little challenging he supposed. Or perhaps it was just that in his months of not having practised the skill, he had become rusty, forgetful.

I used to be better at this, he thought frustratedly as the lock finally clicked and opened. I used to be able to do this in three minutes or less depending on the lock...

The first two drawers to Professor Xavier's desk had been unlocked successfully but held nothing of interest (other than a bank statement which proved the man was far more wealthy than Remy had given him credit for).

After opening the third drawer, Remy began to realise this sneaking around may be an exercise in futility. There didn't seem to be anything remotely promising in the office that could provide any answers that he sought.

What did you expect, LeBeau, did you expect him to write full-fledged reports about how you ended up in a coma? Medical documents explainin' what's wrong with you? They aren't meant to be keeping you here, they aren't meant to be legally treating you and they don't have to legally document it. Nothing is gonna be on paper here.

The only kind of legal documentation Remy could really find were the student files which proved they were there either by legal guardianship or by parental consent. Remy sifted through the files half-heartedly as he sat there on the rug behind the desk (as there was no chair at the Professor's side), hoping to find anything that would give him some kind of indication of what had led him here at all.

Glancing at the clock, Remy noted it'd been about forty minutes of hiding in the Professor's office searching through the files, and he was no further along in learning anything remotely useful. He paused to listen closely for any kind of sounds, whether it be Kitty Pryde passing by in the hallway, or the Jet returning back.

Just as he'd begun losing all hope of finding anything at all, he found a hidden cabinet that was built into the wainscotted panel in the wall. He happened upon it accidentally as he'd moved to put some other folders on a bookcase and had stopped to lean against the wall in his exhaustion. A slight push had been all it had needed to click and swing open, and he moved back and bent over to gaze inside. There was a box within.

He heard a somewhat loud clattering sound, and he sat still for a moment, listening, thinking perhaps he was about to be caught. He pushed the secret door shut, and moved to hide behind the desk just in case someone should walk in they would see nothing from the doorway unless they moved across the room. Please don't let me caught, he pleaded with fate.

Sitting on the floor folded legged, he removed the box, noting the exact placement and how far in it had been in the cabinet (he used his thumb to gauge the distance on each side the sides had been from the walls within).

The box was locked but the lock – one of the harder ones to open in his experience – was no match for his patience. Inside the metal box, was a pile of folders and some memory cards. The files were incident reports about all of the X-Men here, including some of the younger students, it also held some pretty sensitive information, information that they probably didn't even know about themselves, such as the particular level of power the Professor suspected the students had.

Listening one more time for sounds to indicate he may be caught, Remy waited a moment before opening Rogue's file, the strange sense of naughtiness almost delighting him as he did so. There was little there that he didn't already know. Her real name had been deliberately painted over with white-out, and to this day Remy had still never understood why she'd chosen to hide her name. He sifted through other files, like Rogue's waver she'd been made to sign when she was eighteen in case of injuries during her time at the institute. Remy wasn't sure why exactly this was needed, other than he supposed in case someone should want to sue Xavier should they be hurt. Everything from her blood type, allergies (bees, apparently), medical conditions and her weight, height, measurements (he supposed for exact uniform fittings).

It told him nothing, really. These files were all general, which is why the box they had been put in had been fairly easy to unlock.

It just wasn't gonna be that easy, Remy thought as he rifled through the other folders to see if he could find anything else, eventually happening on one with his name.

Hello, what do we have here, he thought lightly as he flipped the folder open. His folder was scarily accurate. Even his allergy to Jelly Fish, which was a little known fact that he'd never really thought to share with any one before.

If this is all written down and they know this shit about me, then maybe I really did sign up for this for real, he pondered as he flicked through the pages. I could have just made shit up if I was here just to work under cover or get information out of them or something. I wouldn't have told the the absolute truth about this stuff...

Anxiously, he looked up to the clock on the desk, he'd been in here for an hour now, and surely it wouldn't be much longer before someone would catch him. I can't sit here much longer, he told himself sternly as he searched the pages for any kind of incident report. There was nothing to suggest in this file how he had gotten into a coma, only that he had been in a persistent coma for three months and a recent update noted that his progress was slow but promising. The very last page in the folder unnerved him, it was a waver, and without a doubt, it was definitely his signature, he knew his own pen-strokes anywhere.

I did sign up. There's no question now. But why?

He couldn't take the time to think about this now, he realised he had to get up and put everything back as he'd found it before he ended up getting himself caught. He ensured everything looked just the way it had before he'd touched it, put the folders in the same order they had been in back in the box and locked it properly with his custom picks, hoping that he hadn't compromised the lock to where it wouldn't open again.

Carefully, he ensured that all the drawers were locked, that nothing was disturbed, everything looked just as it had been left by the Professor. It all looked fine, Remy was confident that nothing was out of place. By the time everything was as it had been, he realised it had been nearly an hour and a half since he'd started trying to unlock the door to get in.

With this, he checked before leaving the room, shut the door, and locked it as quickly as he could. The tools he'd used for re-locking the locks he'd picked were getting old, and Remy wasn't sure how much longer they'd last.

Gotta be careful with these, he reminded himself, they're the only ones I got. Not like I can get replacements – custom made tools like this run into some serious money, and I don't have the contact for the guild toolmaster to ask for new ones either.

Remy began his way down his hall towards his room when a crash down the opposite end of the hall caught his attention. He looked around, curious to see if anyone else was going to come running to see what the disturbance had been, but after the crash, there was nothing but silence.

Exhausted, but deciding he better check whatever the noise had been as no one else was around, he pushed himself to go down the other end of the hall, his shoulders slumped tiredly as he walked. "Hello?" he called out.

The sound had come from the hospital room, and he'd been avoiding coming down here for weeks as he'd spent enough time in it, in his opinion, to last a lifetime. At first, he couldn't see what the noise had been as he glanced inside, the room was vacant as far as he could tell, and there was no sound except the hum of the air conditioner unit on the wall. He almost turned, but then his eyes fell upon something. On the other side of the bed, he could see part of a hand flat upon the tiles. A hand that was wearing a black glove.

He knew at once who that hand belonged to. "Rogue? What you doin' on the floor?" he asked with a vague laugh as he began walking slowly across the room, limbs heavy.

There was no answer, and as he got to the edge of the bed, he moved around it to see her lying there on the floor flat on her face, it was then he noticed the supply closet was open and unlocked, which it never ever was in his experience, and that to his horror, there was vomit on the floor. Vomit loaded with half dissolved pills.

"Rogue..." he said, his voice barely a whisper.

He couldn't explain even to himself why he froze in the spot. Looking down at the scene...he felt a horrible sense of deja vu. One that left his blood running cold. He tried to shake this feeling. Remy, what the fuck are you doing?! She's going to die!

Dropping to his knees quickly, not caring about the vomit that was now seeping into the leg of his pants, he turned the girl over, she was the oddest shade of pale green-blue and clammy, her hair damp around her forehead, the rest of her hair looked unwashed, dirty and slick. He shook her hard. "Rogue? Rogue? Come on, talk to me..."

In some almost vague semblance of minimal consciousness, the girl gave a moan, incomprehensible and incoherent. Her head rolled and she vomited more of this mixed pill cocktail that she had for some mystifying reason ingested, it spilled down the side of her mouth, seeping out in weak choking gasps. Remy counted the pills in the small puddle of it at her side, he saw at least ten, but he had absolutely no clue what was in any of them.

Why the fuck would she do this?! He thought in dismay, his stomach churning, he felt close to being sick himself at the smell and the sight of it. He yelled for help but there was none, no one seemed to be hearing him. Where the hell is Kitty?! He panicked.

He pulled the girl up into a sitting position and shook her some more, "Come on, chere, try to stay awake," he pleaded of her. Her head lolled back, eyes closed lightly, more vomit spilling down her mouth. What the hell am I supposed to do here?

In his minds eye, he had fractured images of doing this before, of handling an overdose, of being in a frantic mess over it. He couldn't remember why, perhaps during a drunken escapade. You know what to do here, you need to get her to throw up whatever she swallowed, he told himself as he pulled her towards the wall and sat her upright, her body limp with no resistance.

The supply closet was open – he saw a huge hole had been punched through where the handle had once been and the lock had been torn right out. Jesus, that's what the noise was that I heard. God, if I had just come to see what the noise was...she...she...jesus, stop stalling! Do something!

Trying to stay as calm as he could, he rushed to it, adrenaline pumping fiercely through his veins, mind racing with panic as he tried to find a solution. Knocking over bottles and boxes of pills and packs of syringes and rolls of bandages in the blinding panic, he frantically searched for something that would suffice. And then he spotted a bottle of syrup of ipecac. He scrambled back to her, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

"Rogue, come on, you gotta drink this," he shook her to try and get her to awaken from whatever stupor the drugs had set her in. Tears spilled from her eyes as she choked on the stuff, and she weakly tried to fight him as he forced the bottle to her mouth. As weak as she was, he could feel that he would be bruised later, her new unbelievable strength left his flesh smarting as she lazily smacked and pushed at him.

He'd thought to put on a pair of medical gloves before trying to administer the foul stuff, and he held onto her face, tipped her head back and forced her to take it. The vomiting that followed was extreme and sickening, and Remy bent her over the floor, but put his arms around her body to hold her up so she didn't pass out in the stuff. Her struggling with him stopped, and she limply hung in his arms, passed out, lifeless. He couldn't hear anything from her, not a breath, nothing. Against his arms, he did not feel her stomach move, could detect no pulse of heartbeat as he put his hand against her chest. Over his panic, he had not heard the sound of the jet on the return, but he was suddenly pushed out of the way without warning and Logan and Hank were over her and trying to help her while he lay now covered in vomit.

"She's not breathing!" Hank gasped.

"What did you give her?!" Logan demanded sharply as he turned towards Remy.

"I...I..."

"Snap out of it!" Logan yelled, "what did you give her..."

"Ipecac..." Remy managed in a stammer.

"What did she take?" Hank asked, he had had grabbed a stethoscope from a nearby table and ripped the front of the girl's pyjama top so he could try to detect a heartbeat.

"I don't know..." Remy stuttered nervously, "I...found her like this..."

"Where's Kitty?" demanded Logan.

"I don't know!" Remy supposed if there was an appropriate moment for shock to set in, it was as good a time as any and so he just sat there on the floor. The memories of this happening before resurfaced again, a faceless girl, practically mannequin like, a fractured incident that Remy was unsure of. Was it a dream or a memory at all?

The Professor arrived a moment later, and Remy listened to the three as they tried to calmly help her, all with the look of terror on their faces that she may still die. Suddenly, in all the commotion, they were arguing between themselves.

"You know I have to!" Logan was yelling at the Professor, practically in the bald man's face, much to Remy's surprised.

"Logan, you don't know what that'll do to you..." the Professor worriedly.

"Yes, I do, okay, I know exactly what it'll do. We all do. We know where this is gonna go, we know what to expect, and we know I'll come out of it. We are not gonna let her die! I'm not gonna sit back and let her destroy herself."

Hank spoke up, "Charles, she's not strong enough to fight this, she's been physically weak for some time, deteriorating...if Logan doesn't do this, she will die...we have no choice. She's already fading."

Remy backed himself into the corner a little; they had Rogue on the bed and Logan had removed his gloves.

Don't let her die, Remy pleaded silently, not sure why it mattered so much that she not die, only that he had never been so scared in his life that anyone would. He'd never cared about anyone dying, never become attached enough to care about anyone and yet, there was some strange inexplicable attachment he felt to Rogue.

He hardly knew her and couldn't comprehend where this strange feeling came from. Remy watched as Logan let himself be willingly drained by Rogue's powers, watched the colour drain from the man's face, watched the veins in his skin seem to stand out as if the blood were trying to escape to Rogue while his skin seemed to try to pull away from her. When Logan simply collapsed, the entire room fell silent. Remy's own heart felt as if it may have stopped.

And Hank finally announced the two words that Remy was sure was the only thing that made his heart feel as if it was starting to beat again.

"She's stabilised."

It felt like coming down from something, as the adrenaline begun to fade and leave him there on the floor with the exhaustion settling again. He sat there, trying to bring his heart back to an even tempo as the Professor examined Rogue while Hank examined Logan. There was an eerie calm in the room.

Remy's eyes dropped to Logan, who lay there lifeless upon the floor. He looked almost dead, so still, so pale. And suddenly, the realisation came upon Remy. It was like being hit by lightning, as if the answer suddenly came and smacked him in the face like a giant boxing glove.

He knew.

He understood exactly what had happened. How he had ended up in the coma was no longer a mystery. It was no longer a puzzle that needed to be solved. He understood now.

The reason he had fallen into a coma had a simple answer.

Rogue had put him in it.

End of Part 10

Hopefully this hasn't been too much of a downer for the Christmas period. The subject matter of this chapter is why I refrained from posting until after Christmas day (I had gone to post it on Christmas eve until I realised that it would probably be a little depressing, best leave til boxing day lol.)

Hope you all had a great Christmas 3