Chapter Fourteen
Rogue and Remy stayed one more night with Emma, before she shuffled the pair of them into a chauffeur driven car, out to the airport, and onto her private jet. There was quite a lot of fussing about this, partly because Rogue hated the extravagance of having chauffeur, let alone a pilot, but mostly because Remy's precious baby would have to stay in Boston.
Emma promised Remy that his airplane would be fine - in fact, she could even get someone to give it a full service, if he wanted - but he balked at all of her suggestions and eyed everything she said with mistrust. The three days that Rogue had been recovering were, apparently, more than enough time for Remy and Emma to found a mutual, passionate hatred of one another. Rogue thought that this was sort of hilarious, especially when they tried to pretend not to hate each another for her sake.
Rogue slept most of the afternoon and evening she had remaining in Boston, the mental exhaustion she'd suffered leaving her body in a state of lethargy that protested against any more exercise than getting up to go to the toilet. Luckily for her, both Emma and Remy were willing to cater to her listlessness, bringing food and forms of entertainment to her, rather than insisting that she get up and moving around. Not so luckily, it also meant that when she was passed a phone with a furious Logan on the other end, there was no way of avoiding it.
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Logan roared down the phone at her, as soon as he was certain it was actually Rogue he was talking to.
"Um," Rogue attempted to reply, although the fact that she didn't have a proper explanation ready wasn't noticed at all when Logan just carried on yelling straight over her.
He yelled at her for a good thirty minutes, going on about how stupid she was, and how worried everyone else was, and how very, very dead Remy was, before he realised that she was sobbing down the phone.
"Rogue?" Logan asked, suddenly sounding sad-worried, rather than the furious-worried he'd been moments before.
"I'm sorry," Rogue sobbed into the phone, cradling it against her ear as she burrowed under her duvet and buried her face in the pillow. "I didn't want to hurt anyone," she added, because some scars run deeper than others, and she'd been thinking those words so incredibly hard when she tore Carol out of her mind that there would always be a version of them, scrawled across her psyche.
"Kid," Logan said, then stopped at a total loss as to what to say. He always got a bit panicky when someone he loved was in tears, and he couldn't resolve it by tearing something into teeny-tiny shreds. As much as Logan ever got panicky, anyway. "Kid, you didn't hurt us," he tried again. "You hurt yourself. I know why you did what you did, and hell if I wouldn't have done the same. But we love you, Rogue."
Rogue hiccoughed a little, scrambling for a tissue to wipe her eyes. "I love you and Kayla too," she whispered.
"I know. She knows. Now stop giving us fucking heart attacks."
"I already promised Emma I'd do my best to not let this happen again," Rogue told him.
Logan grunted in reply. "From what I hear it wasn't your fault Carol ended up locked in your head in the first place, so that's not exactly encouraging."
Rogue sighed and settled back comfortably to listen to Logan bitch a bit more about a lady he'd never met, irritating him more than a little when she suggested that he'd probably actually get on really well with Carol. At least his complaints were better than him yelling at her again, although Rogue didn't doubt she'd have to face that again when she saw them both the following day. At least with a good night's sleep and a long few hours getting back to New Orleans she might feel a less emotionally unstable and hopefully wouldn't burst into tears again.
"How's Kayla?" Rogue asked, when it seemed as though Logan had complained about everything he could complain about. "I sort of thought she'd be the one phoning me rather than you."
"Kayla's in bed," Logan replied bluntly. "She fainted when we first heard what happened, and the doctor said she's suffering some kind of iron deficiency or something."
"Oh," Rogue said eloquently. "Is she alright?"
"She insists she'll be fine, but she isn't telling me something."
"You're worried," Rogue pointed out, wincing before she finished talking, because she knew Logan wouldn't appreciate the comment.
"Of course I'm fucking worried!" he roared, then huffing as though he'd clenched his jaw in an effort not to yell anymore. "First you, now this, and I'm stuck in New Orleans, where I can't do fuck all about any of it."
Rogue bit her lip, covering her face with her hand that wasn't holding the phone to her ear. "I'm fine. And, if Kayla says she is, she's probably fine too. Me and Remy'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Until then, just … be you. But try not to break anything."
"How is that 'being me'?" he mocked her, before coming incredibly close to sighing. "Tell Remy thanks for saving your neck, but that won't stop me from wringing his."
"Yeah," Rogue agreed, before they both hung up and she threw her phone towards the end of her bed before dozing off again. If she'd had enough energy to, she might have been worried about how exhausted she felt in spite of not doing anything for three days. As it was, she slept on and off until late the following morning when Emma chivvied her out of bed and into getting ready to returning to New Orleans.
Rogue felt a little unsteady on her feet, probably due to the several days bed rest, but the extra rest had given her time to straighten a few more things in her mind, and she was feeling much more alert than she had since her arrival in New Orleans. The last of her tiredness seeped away as she showered, and so when she went downstairs to face the rest of the world - or at least Emma and Remy - Rogue was feeling much more like her normal self.
"You look happier, Chére," Remy commented cheerfully as she appeared in the lounge doorway.
"Hmm," she agreed, leaning over the arm of his chair, hesitating long enough for him to pull away if he wished, before she kissed his cheek. Her power stirred inside her at the skin-on-skin contact, but didn't move to hurt him. "I feel a lot better," she agreed.
"Remy can see that," he replied, turning his head quickly to catch her lips with his, in what was more a brush of contact than a kiss as she leant away.
Rogue grinned at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair with gloved fingers. "Cheeky," she told him, although it was not a disapproval of his actions.
Remy stood swiftly from his chair, with all the grace of a cat, and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him but not stooping to kiss her again. "You kissed me first," he reminded. "Remy takes what he can get."
"I know that you two are in love," a not entirely welcome voice interrupted coolly, "but if you'd be so kind as to not make out in front of me?" Emma requested.
Remy's lip curled into a sneer, before he glanced down at Rogue and he attempted to turn it into a smile. He didn't fool anyone.
"But Auntie Emma," Rogue protested in saccharine tones, "We're only holding hands!" She stepped away from Remy, catching the hand that had been on her hip before she'd moved, and swinging it between them. She widened her eyes comically and added, with a bit of a lisp, "Is that naughty?"
Emma scowled at her, no real anger in her gaze, although there was a fair measure of disgust. "Remind me to never have children," she said to no one. "Stretch marks and bloating aside, teenagers are horrible people. I'm glad you belong to Kayla and not me."
"I don't belong to anyone," Rogue said, in her normal voice and affecting a bit of a pout.
"You belong to me," Remy whispered, loudly enough for Emma to hear and wince pointedly at the hand that was once more around Rogue's waist, rather than still holding her hand.
"You belong to Kayla and Logan," Emma added, at a normal speaking volume, still glaring a little at Remy. "And I'm glad that you are only my niece, not my daughter. It means I can pass responsibility back to them when you've made bad life decisions and need persuading out of them. Bad boyfriend choices, for example." Emma said the last more to Remy than to Rogue, but Rogue felt the need to address it anyway.
"He's not a bad boyfriend," Rogue defended. "And while I know you don't like him much, I'd appreciate it if you kept your personal opinion about Remy to yourself."
Remy squeezed her gently, shaking his head slightly. "No need to defend Remy's honor, Chére, he's always been a scoundrel. No sensible Mama would let her girl anywhere near me."
Rogue pulled away from him, and turned to face him with her hands on her hips and a scowl at the ready, but he interrupted before she could say anything.
"I'm not breaking up with you. Remy's just saying your Aunt may not be wrong about me not being good enough for you," he told her quickly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, his bare fingertips leaving trails of warmth over the shell of her ear.
Rogue slapped his hand away, scowl deepening. "You don't get to make that decision. No one gets to make that decision, except me."
"I know, Chére, did Remy not say he'd take what he can get?" he attempted to placate.
"There will be no 'taking' in my house," Emma warned sharply, which did nothing to improve Rogue's rapidly darkened mood.
"There isn't likely to be any 'taking' ever. I can't touch people, remember?" Rogue hissed angrily, drawing away from both of them.
Emma frowned. "You can touch Remy, that much is obvious."
"And I've shocked him, just like I have Kayla and Carol before him," Rogue replied furiously. "Every time he touches me, I can feel my power wanting to react, to strike out at him, and the only reason it doesn't is because I trust him. But considering how well my last attempt at sex went, it's incredibly unlikely that I'll ever be able to trust anyone enough to not be terrified I'd hurt them too." She felt hot tears welling up, and shook her head angrily. She had not meant to share this information with anyone, humiliating as it was.
"You've-" Emma started, then cut herself off. Her expression was caught somewhere between angry protectiveness, pride, and dismay.
"No," Rogue spat out. "That's the point! He ended up in a fucking coma for three weeks!"
"This was before you got kicked out of your foster home," Emma realised.
"It's why I got kicked out of my foster home," Rogue shot back bitterly. "What upstanding Christian parents would keep a mutant whore in their house?"
"Non," Remy said shaking his head, and grabbing Rogue's hand before she could move it out of her reach. "Chére, my beautiful girl, don't talk about yourself like that."
Rogue resisted a little, but only half heartedly, allowing Remy to pull her into him again so he could wrap her up in a warm hug.
Emma sighed, and shook her head. "I want to kill your foster parents," she told Rogue flatly. "I would very much like to tear their lives apart piece by piece until they have nothing left in the world but themselves. And then, I'd like to keep on taking, cell by cell until there is nothing left of them. I would gladly see them burn for how they treated you."
Rogue raised her head to meet first Emma's gaze, then Remy's. The last shuddering remnants of fear and anger scuttled away back into the recesses of her mind and she squared her shoulders, and wiped hastily at her eyes. "What was it you said to me? I am Rogue, I am Anna Marie, I am Vadas. I am Kayla and Logan's daughter, and I am Remy's Chére. That is who I am now, not the lost little girl they found two years ago."
Emma leant forward, and captured one of Rogue's hands, kissing it warmly. "You are strong," she said. "You had a vengeful psyche tear through your mind not four days ago, you should still be unconscious, or curled up away from the world, sobbing at all of the newly exposed fears you have. Instead, you are already taking your life back again."
"You need to stop before I start crying again," Rogue warned through a watery smile. Now that Emma had mentioned it, she noticed that her emotions were indeed all over the place. With the exception of the first few days after being kicked out, Rogue really hadn't dwelled all that much on the whore comment. She was normally too self-possessed to worry too much about the impression she made on other people, and sensible enough to know that a little heavy petting with her boyfriend when she was sixteen hardly made her a whore. Yet apparently there was some part of her that still worried about it.
There was a moment of lingering hesitation as everyone silently wondered what to say next, before Rogue turned in his arms and kissed Remy's cheek. "Come on, then, swamp rat," she teased, "I have to go and get yelled at by my parents."
"I don't think there'll be too much yelling," Emma said, with a secretive smile.
Rogue turned to her, and frowned as realisation struck her. "You know whatever it is Kayla isn't telling Logan," she accused.
"Yes," Emma agreed with a little laugh. "And, as Kayla told him, she really is fine. She'd have already told him if Carol hadn't chosen this time to attack you. But she wants both of you to be there."
Another realisation struck Rogue in quick succession of the first, but this time her eyes went wide with wonder, rather than narrowing. "Are you saying-"
"I'm not saying anything!" Emma interrupted. "Now shush, and get going, and if Kayla asks, you worked it out for yourself. I didn't tell you anything."
"What is going on? Remy does not know what you are talking about," Remy complained, as they were hustled unceremoniously out of Emma's townhouse and towards the car that was waiting to take them to the airport.
Rogue giggled, but didn't offer Remy any explanation. Her head was suddenly filled with the memories of a conversation some months ago now. A hope and a wish explained, and idle wondering of how the spare room could be converted. Rogue's face split in a hopeful smile, as she bid Emma a cheery farewell and laughed at Remy's pouting confusion.
-xXx-
They had to go to the main New Orleans airport this time, rather than the tiny airstrip they took off from last time: it was simply not long enough for Emma's private jet to feasibly land and take off again from. Regardless of that, Logan and Kayla were still waiting for them when they did land.
Rogue had found that, somewhere between learning she could fly without any outside assistance, and the ten hour trip in Remy's small aircraft, she really didn't mind flying half so much as she used to. Now that Carol was no longer truly in her mind, she had no idea whether she still had the other woman's mutant powers, and Rogue actually felt a little disappointed by the assumption she couldn't fly anymore. But without suffering from any travel sickness, Rogue was still feeling relatively cheerful when she and Remy exited the plane.
That Kayla and Logan were waiting for her, looking every bit the concerned, angry parents, made Rogue want to laugh and cry all at once.
Logan had already said all that he was going to say on the phone the day before, so he greeted Rogue with a brief hug and a wordless grunt. Kayla, however, hadn't seen or spoken to Rogue in almost four days, and as soon as she was able, swept her up into a tight hug, and didn't seem inclined to let go anytime soon.
"Stupid girl," she muttered into Rogue's hair. "You should have told us."
"I know, I know," Rogue muttered, clinging just as tightly to Kayla. "I wasn't thinking, couldn't think. It just hurt and I needed to get her out of my head," she tried to explain, and tried not to start crying again.
"Ladies," Logan said, not trying to break them apart, but guiding them gently back towards the car, ushering them inside as quickly as he could. He got in the driver's side, and glared at Remy, tapping his fingers on the wheel impatiently as he waited for the other man to get in.
"Are you alright?" Rogue asked Kayla quietly, once they were on the road and heading back to Remy's family home.
Kayla gave a gasp that was somewhere between a sigh and a sob and nodded, clutching Rogue's shoulders again. "Are you alright?" she asked fiercely. "I'm not the one who - who - amputated a limb, or whatever metaphors Emma used to explain getting rid of Carol. Without help!"
Rogue ducked her head, no longer able to meet Kayla's gaze. "I wasn't thinking. I couldn't think," she repeated her earlier words. "It hurt so much, Mama, all I knew was that she had to go."
Rogue hadn't meant to call Kayla 'Mama', but her mind was thick with heady emotions and she wasn't really thinking about it. The word slipped from her lips, more naturally than the name 'Mom' had ever belonged to her foster mother, and Rogue could not regret saying it. Kayla's only response to it was a tightening of her grip, another dry sob.
"We were so worried," Kayla said. "I thought, maybe - because you disappeared with Remy - you had decided to run off together for a while. But you didn't say anything, didn't tell us and it seemed so out of character. You're so independent, but you've always made sure we had half an idea, at least where you were. Then we hear fromEmma of all people-" Kayla cut herself off with another gasping sob, and burying her face in her hands.
Rogue slid closer, wrapping an arm tightly around Kayla's shoulder, bowing her head towards her. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I'm here, I'm fine."
"I - I know," Kayla tried to reassure her, face blotchy and red from the tears that were now falling. "I'm just more emotional than usual."
Logan tensed in the front seat, his eyes meeting Rogue's gaze in the rear-view mirror. His shoulders were hunched slightly, and there was something dangerous and concerned in his glittering dark eyes. He didn't know what was wrong with Kayla, but he knew there was something she wasn't saying. If Rogue could find out - if she already knew - she needed to tell him.
"You're worrying Logan," Rogue whispered into Kayla's ear. She wasn't so foolish as to think that Logan wouldn't have heard those words, but if he wanted to know what Kayla wasn't saying, then perhaps Kayla deserved to hear what he wasn't saying too.
Kayla reached forward, her hand trembling a little, and rested across Logan's shoulder, squeezing gently. She didn't say anything, but her fingers lingered next to her neck for a moment, before she withdrew and sat straight again. He had relaxed a little at the contact, but it didn't take a genius to work out that he was still worried.
"Carol's gone now," Rogue announced once the moment passed. "There's an echo of her, just like there's an echo of everyone I've touched, but she isn't in my head anymore. I'm still a little… unsteady, but I'm ok now. I think, given a bit more time, I'll actually be better than I have been in a long time."
"That's good," Kayla said. "I'm very happy to hear that."
Rogue glance down at Kayla's midriff, then back up to her face, smiling questioningly, and tilting her head.
Kayla stared at her a moment, scowling briefly before a flickering smile over took it. She inclined her head ever so slightly, silently replying 'yes'.
It took everything Rogue had not to whoop in delight and hug Kayla tightly. As it was, a broad grin spread across her face and she squeezed one of Kayla's hands. Then she tilted her head towards Logan. Another silent question, although its asking hadn't gone unnoticed, judging from the angry scowl Logan kept shooting over his shoulder at her.
"When we get back," Kayla told her. "I'd been planning on telling you both the day after we arrived, but -" she cut herself off with a sharp glance at Rogue. Whether she would eventually actually be better than she'd been before meeting Carol or not, for now it was clear that her emotions were still somewhat scattered.
"Sorry," Rogue apologised again. She was feeling as though all of her apologies were becoming rather superfluous, but until she was told to stop saying sorry, she would continue to do so.
"It's alright," Kayla said with a tremulous smile. "The news hasn't changed, and a few days really didn't make all that much difference, except on Logan's temper." She leant forward again to place her hand once more on Logan's shoulder. This time she shifted further forward in her seat, too, and whispered something in his ear that neither Rogue nor Remy heard or wanted to hear.
"You're lucky I love you," Logan muttered, ears reddening in a way that would be adorable on any man who didn't have razor sharp claws that popped out of his fists at any given moment.
"Yes, I am," Kayla agreed easily, sliding back in her seat again.
Remy, who'd been keeping his nose out of the conversation as much as he could when trapped in a small car with the three of them, let out a quiet, disgusted sound.
"Problem, bub?" Logan growled threateningly.
"No, no!" Remy said, raising his hands defensively. "I just don't understand how you are this… schmoopy," he finished, using the word Rogue had to describe the pair of them when they'd arrived in New Orleans.
Logan seemed to recognise that the word was Rogue's rather than Remy's, and turned his ire towards her next. Rogue snorted, and raised her hands in the same defensive gesture Remy had made. "You are," she protested. "Ever since we got back from visiting Auntie Emma, the pair of you have been all over each other." Rogue stopped, thought about this for a little while, then groaned and shook her head. "Are we almost there yet?" she asked.
"You are worse than Emma," Kayla scolded Rogue gently.
"Jesus Christ," Logan muttered furiously, hands tightening around the steering wheel, and plunging them a little too enthusiastically into the traffic. "Can't you just tell me already?" he asked them in frustration.
"Not while your driving, baby," Kayla told him. "I am sorry for all the subterfuge, though."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Logan barked. He sounded mostly angry, and Remy cringed further away from him, but both Kayla and Rogue knew that he was more concerned for Kayla than anything else.
Kayla reached forward for the third time, and this time kept her hand on his shoulder for the rest of the car drive. They didn't have far to go now, and so they travelled the last ten minutes or so in tense silence, with the exception of Logan's occasional angry mutterings.
When they finally pulled up outside of the LeBeau mansion, Remy raced out of the car and disappeared into the house as fast as he could. He had his own version of parental scolding to face, Rogue realised. He might be older than her and technically an adult, but he had still disappeared for several days without a word as to his whereabouts.
But her concerns for him were soon pushed to one side, as Logan hurried both her and Kayla into the lounge which was thankfully empty. He persuaded Kayla to sit on the sofa, fussing over her in a way that Rogue had never seen him do before. It was sort of sweet, even if it did alter her view of Logan a little. Rogue had always known that he protected those he loved fiercely, but this was one step further; a display of tenderness that she hadn't witnessed between them before.
His actions didn't seem to surprise Kayla at all, and Rogue thought that maybe she just hadn't been privy to Logan's tenderness before. Maybe this, like starting to think of Kayla as Mama in her head, was the next step towards truly being a family.
"No more waiting," Logan insisted, cutting through her thoughts. "What haven't you been telling me."
For the briefest moment, Rogue wondered how Kayla would tell him, whether it would be extravagant, or careful. Whether she would give Logan too much time to worry, or give him the wrong idea.
Instead, Kayla cupped Logan's face tenderly with one hand, laying the other to rest on her abdomen. "I'm pregnant," she said simply, with no concern for extravagant revelations. Then, when Logan stayed silent for a long moment, a slightly glazed look appearing in his eyes, Kayla leant towards him, brushing a sweet kiss across his lips. "We're having a baby," she told him, and smiled.
Logan stayed utterly still for a heartbeat longer, before one of his hands reached up to hold her hand in place over his cheek, and his eyes wandered down to where her other hand rested. There was no physical sign, yet, that Kayla was pregnant, but he couldn't seem to help himself from staring, for his other hand reaching out to touch her stomach reverently.
"A baby," he repeated, astonished, and when he met Kayla's gaze again his eyes were filled with unshed tears.
He stayed silent after that, staring searchingly into her eyes, glancing down every now and then at he abdomen, before he shut his eyes with a shuddering sigh, and leant into the weight of her palm on his cheek.
"Logan," Kayla whispered, sliding closer to him to that their knees knocked a little uncomfortably. "Logan, baby," she repeated, and it might have been a question.
Logan opened his eyes and swept forward to deliver a gentle, heartbreaking kiss. "I love you," he told her quietly. Then he broke into a wide grin, and a bubble of laughter escaped him. His cheeks were wet with a glorious joy, in a similarly ill-concealed attempt to hide his emotions. "God, I love you," he repeated, his voice cracking.
Kayla laughed, her joy reflecting his, and she threw herself forward to wrap her arms tightly around his shoulders, and bury her face in the join of his neck. Then she looked up again and kissed him like fire and elation.
"Were you worried?" he murmured. "Were you worried I'd react badly? We talked about this."
"Yes, no, I mean - I wasn't worried, not really, but God, baby, you went so still and quiet for a moment there, and I thought you might be angry -"
"Angry? I'm not good with words, darlin', you know that, but it wasn't anger I was feeling. Never anger."
"I love you," Kayla told Logan, kissing his cheeks and his eyelids and his mouth. He stayed still under ministrations, face tilted up to her, eyes closed and smile on his lips.
"Love you," he repeated again. Then he opened his eyes, and pulled Kayla carefully onto his lap so that he could keep one arm around her shoulders, and the hand of the other arm across where the baby would reside. "A baby," he said, and laughed again. "Our baby."
Kayla laughed delightedly and nodded, kissing him again. "I think you've gone into shock, babe," she told him warmly.
Logan shook his head. "No. I just - I never really thought I'd get this chance. With who I am, I never thought it was an option."
Kayla looked achingly sad at that, leaning fully against him and pushing her face back into the crook of his neck. She didn't say anything to comfort him, just clung to him and breathed him in. Maybe she hoped that she felt as much like home to him as he did to her.
Rogue felt at once as though she was an intruder in their moment, and an undeniable part of their family. Who they were, and how they acted was not hidden here, where she could see every movement, and hear every word. She was watching something incredibly private, but she was being included silently, too. So it felt as natural as breathing to walk to them and crouch beside them on the floor.
Logan watched her movement closely, but didn't ask her to leave, or look as though he didn't want her there. Instead, he smiled in welcome. "My girls," he said fondly, reaching out a hand to ruffle Rogue's hair.
"Family," Rogue told them, and struggled to keep her tears at bay. She'd been a Vadas from as soon as they were able to get the paperwork through, but for so long it had been a name. It had been acceptance of her presence in their lives, but not necessarily a welcome. Now, however, she felt as though she'd come home to them.
"When did you find out?" Logan asked Rogue, his hand moving back to Kayla's abdomen as though it couldn't stay anywhere else for any significant length of time.
"You said you'd been talking about having a baby," Rogue said to both of them. "Just talking, considering the possibility for when our house is finished, but when you said that Kayla fainted, then Emma said you had news - I just, I made an assumption."
"How did Emma know?" Logan asked, looking as though he wanted to be angry, but was still feeling too happy to muster up the emotion.
"She's my sister, Logan," Kayla reminded gently. "As soon as I started suspecting, I told her about my thoughts. She told me to stop being such a wuss and just take the test already. When that turned out positive, I went to see my doctor. He confirmed it just before we left for New Orleans. I thought I'd tell you both when we got here. Emma's terrible at keeping secrets, but I wasn't expecting either of you to run off to talk to her."
Rogue opened her mouth to apologise again, but Kayla shushed her before she could.
"You saved your mind," she told Rogue gently. "Possibly your life, too. I can't possibly stay angry at you for long for doing that. I rather like you alive and mind intact."
Rogue laughed softly, and knelt up to hug Kayla, somehow drawing all three of them into a group hug.
"How far along are you?" Logan asked.
"Nine, ten weeks, my doctor thinks," Kayla told him. "So he or she should be due mid to late February."
A shudder ran through Logan, and the dazed, overjoyed expression was back again. "Do you - do you know whether it's a boy or a girl?"
"Too early," Kayla said with a shake of her head. "Most… miscarriages happen in the first trimester. I want - wanted… to. Just. Have the odds in our favor before I learnt too much."
"Why didn't you tell me, tell us, when you first suspected?" Logan asked, his arms clenching tighter around her.
"That is why, baby," Kayla said, kissing him tenderly and gripping Rogue's shoulder tightly, using it as an anchor to give her the strength she needed. "The chances are good, now. But if I told you my suspicions, but I was wrong? Or if I was right, but the baby didn't last? I know you, Logan, I know you, and I know you would have blamed yourself and I can't have that. I need you and love you just as you are. Promise me, promise me if something goes wrong you won't blame yourself," she finished desperately.
"I - yes. For you, darlin'. Anything for you. Shit," Logan promised, his expression now back to one of concern.
"Everything will be fine," Rogue told them calmly, as she saw both of their fears written across their faces.
"You some kind of fortune teller now, kid?" Logan growled, in a more hostile fashion than he probably meant to.
Rogue shook her head. "No, but, I know you. You both have a healing factor, Kayla has a good enough sense of emotions that she'd probably pick up anything wrong with the baby a lot faster than anyone else and Logan is a fighter, a survivor. Judging from your surprise at this, you were still using contraception. Which means you've got a really hardy baby, who decided he or she was going to exist without either of your permission, and you think there's even a tiny chance of miscarriage? She's got you fighting for her now, rather than her fighting on her own. I don't doubt that she will live, and that she'll be beautiful."
"'She'?" Kayla asked, amused now that Rogue had momentarily soothed some of her worst fears.
Rogue blushed and shook her head again. "Or he," she amended.
"I don't mind you thinking the baby's a girl," Kayla said with a soft smile. "It's better than calling them 'it'."
"Our baby," Logan growled. "Isn't an 'it'."
Kayla chuckled at that, and kissed his cheek. "No, baby. We know that," she reassured him. It was a little amusing to see him become upset about the objectification, but sad too. Kayla knew better than anyone how much Logan was worried that he was little more than an animal, a wild beast too feral to be tamed. "She'll be a 'she' for now, then," Kayla stated, rubbing her belly with a fond smile.
-xXx-
That evening they had a quiet celebration, just the three of them. Remy recommended a restaurant, but declined their invitation for him to join them.
"This is a family celebration, non? Remy knows when not to be around," he explained.
Rogue nodded in thanks, but lingered behind as they headed out, catching his hands in hers and kissing his softly. "I'll see you later," she promised. "You said you'd take me out dancing again."
Remy tilted her head at her suggestion, and offered her a one shouldered shrug, a lopsided smile, and a little wave of his hand, where his cell phone had suddenly appeared. It was up to her, he was saying. Whether she came out tonight or not, he would be happy for her either way, so long as she let him know what she was up to.
"You coming, kid?" Logan called.
Rogue smiled once more at Remy, then followed her parents out of the building. The restaurant was close enough that they could walk to it, so they were taking advantage of the better weather that had followed the thunder storm of a few days ago. Logan and Kayla walked hand in hand, looking adorably happy. Rogue strolled a little behind them, listening with half an ear to their quiet conversation, but not taking part in it.
Instead, she took in the city she'd become so familiar with the previous summer and hadn't seen in almost a year. It was less dusty than before, as last year they'd been in the middle of a heat wave, but seemed otherwise the same. It was teeming with life in the way that their home town in Canada just didn't. It was beautiful and ugly, showing the best and the worst of humanity, and Rogue loved it.
She loved Kayla and Logan too, and she enjoyed watching them react as much as she did the city life that ebbed and flowed around them. Logan was always somewhat surprisingly courteous towards Kayla, but there was a new tenderness, now, in the way he watched her. There was a certain amount of awe of her, too, as though he couldn't quite believe this was his life.
Kayla revelled in his attention, glowing under his fond looks, and leaning into his touches. She was always beautiful, in a casual, relaxed sort of way, but now she was absolutely stunning. Kayla was totally at ease with herself, perfectly happy with her life, and the people in her life. She glanced back to include Rogue, and the smile she sent made Rogue light up in response to it.
When they got to the restaurant, they were quickly directed to a table, and left with their menus. It was a small place, taller than it was wide, and with each floor opening up onto a balcony that overlooked the street below. A peddler was playing just down the road, a small crowd gathered round as an enthusiastic couple danced beside him, enthralled by each other and the music.
The air was thick with the scent of spices and fresh bread, Logan's nose twitching as they were shown past the kitchens, and making Kayla lean into his side and laugh softly at him. Their food was prompt, the waiter looking delighted when Kayla informed him the reason she wasn't drinking any alcohol, but keeping out of their way too.
Rogue had been worried that, following her abrupt departure without telling them several days before, their relationships would be strained for a while, but nothing like that happened. Beyond their initial scolding, nothing more was said of it. Somehow, they had struck a balance between treating her as their daughter, and treating her as an adult, and Rogue was beaming from the unsaid approval that came as a result of that.
Conversation was light and hopeful, the food delicious, and the evening itself wonderful. When they were finished, and wandered back out onto the street, Rogue stopped both of them to hug them tightly.
"Thank you," she told both of them sincerely. She didn't have to tell them what for and when she stepped away, all three of them were wearing smiles.
"Go on," Logan said, tilting his head. "You go and meet up with that damn fool boy of yours."
Rogue grinned and stepped away from them, walking in the opposite direction they were headed.
"Be back by midnight!" Logan called out after her.
"One!" Kayla shouted after him, her laughter chasing Rogue down the street. It didn't really matter what time she got back, she knew. They wouldn't be checking. So long as she was home in time for breakfast tomorrow, they wouldn't notice. And as much as she had loved their family night out, and celebration of their future, she wanted to see Remy now.
The previous year, the majority of what Rogue and Remy had got up to was pretty tame. They'd wandered around the city, had spent long nights out dancing and drinking only a little. Remy had talked about his regular card club, but they hadn't gone there. He hadn't known that she could play poker, and anyone who didn't at least know the rules enough to lose all their money there wasn't welcome, even if they were there on the grace of one of the regulars.
But Rogue had bragged that she could play, that she could cheat, and she was hoping that would be enough of an invitation that she'd finally get to see the places that Remy chose to go to when he wasn't on babysitting duty.
She phoned him as she wandered aimlessly around the city, the last of the sun dipping below the rooftops. Remy gave her quick directions, and when she arrived he was already waiting for her by the door. He was leaning against it, flicking cards in his hands idly. Not lighting them, just showing off. Rogue didn't doubt that the others here knew he was a mutant - he couldn't wear his sunglasses here, and his strange eyes were a big give away - but he didn't need his powers to be good at cards.
Rogue greeted him coolly, with a challenging smirk and a raise of one of her eyebrows. He took the challenge for what it was, theatrically showing her through to the bar, than through to the table he'd been sat at before.
"We have room for one more, mes amis?" he asked them, sliding a chair out for Rogue, and skating his fingers along the exposed skin on the back of her neck once she'd sat down, and he stepped around her to take his own seat.
Rogue felt the hot prickle of his power on her skin, and the responding stirring of her own. She smirked at him, feeling bright with the warm love of earlier, and mischievous from the curious, doubtful looks she was receiving now. Not from him though. Remy seemed as confident of her skills as she did, and he was challenging her not to prove him wrong.
"It's not like you to bring a chick here," one of the men said, eyeing Rogue with a combination of distrust and lust. It was a look Rogue was familiar with from when she worked at Mack's bar and she realised, gleefully, that men in New Orleans were just like men in Lotham City. Just as crude, just as prejudiced, and just as predictable.
"Rogue isn't just any 'chick'," Remy corrected the man. "She's my girl."
One of the other men laughed as though it were the best joke he'd ever heard. "Since when have you stuck to only one girl?" he leant close enough to Rogue that she could almost taste the bourbon on his breath. "Hate to break it to you, pretty, but this man here won't stick to one girl longer than one night. How's about you give a real man a chance?"
As disgusting as his breath was, Rogue didn't move away. She smiled at him, throwing in a few fluttering eyelashes for the hell of it. "Hate to break it to you, sugar," she told him mockingly, throwing his own words back at him. "But a man like you wouldn't stand a chance with a girl like me." She eyed him up and down, and didn't hide the curl of her lip as she grimaced at his apparel. "I like my men with at least a little experience. And my Remy, he's very experienced," she finished, shooting Remy an exaggeratedly lustful look, winking when the others wouldn't notice.
"Just deal the bitch in already," the man said, looking as though he were one drink away from throwing himself across the table and trying to claw Rogue's throat out.
Without any further ado, they began their game. Rogue purposefully lost the first few rounds, acting up to increase their underestimation of her. She fluttered her eyelashes more, made inane remarks, and rested her elbows next to each other on the table to squash her breasts together and draw attention to them. No one but Remy seemed to be onto her plan, until the fifth round when Rogue casually wiped the board of all of them.
"Oh," she said, blinking innocently around at them. "Lucky me!" she squealed, causing Remy to snort and roll his eyes, and the other men to brush it off as dumb luck.
A few rounds later, and she did it again. Carefully, carefully, she laid out her plan like a web of honey, tipping the hand in her favour. Before, brutally, she apparently changed tack completely, knocking two of the men out of the game completely, a third with only two chips to his name, and Remy sitting comfy on about a third of the money in play.
"Whoopsy?" Rogue suggested, fluttering her eyelashes once more for the sake of it, before sweeping up the chips she'd won and stepping away from the table. "Guess you boys should pay more attention to your opponents," she added, winking mischievously at them, tipping the dealer generously and then going to get the chips exchanged. Remy followed her quickly.
"You weren't even cheating," he said, shaking his head in awe.
"Not unless acting like a complete floozy counts as cheating," Rogue agreed with a grin. "You should've seen me first few weeks at Mack's. Every night was like that, it was like they didn't learn. Course, then I was playing with dimes rather than dollars, so the stakes weren't as high-" she was cut off as Remy bent down and planted a firm kiss on her lips.
"Mon dieu, Chére, you are beautiful. I'll never be able to come here again, but you were beautiful."
"Sorry," she said, ducking her head. "I know it's kind of a cheap trick to duck out when you and the other guy were still playing -"
"Non, no apologies. Those men aren't Remy's friends. If they underestimate you so easily, they deserve to be robbed blind like that."
Rogue smiled, and waved the notes she'd just been handed under his nose. "Night's still young, swamp rat. You promised me dancing."
"So I did," Remy agreed with a chuckle, getting his own money back, and wrapping an arm around Rogue's waist. "Where would you like to go?"
"I'm happy to go wherever you'd like," Rogue said, standing on her tip toes to lick the shell of Remy's ear, hoping it left the same tendrils of fire his fingers across her neck had done earlier. "Maybe jazz?"
Remy smirked slow and wicked, leading her out into the night air, down the street towards one of the many clubs that would be playing live jazz. "You certainly live up to your name, Rogue," he told her, his voice a low burr in her ear.
She caught his gaze, eyes glittering in the dark, and Rogue laughed wildly, happily. "And you, Gambit, what manoeuvre have you planned to blind side me later?"
"Ah, Chére, you say that like I haven't already. I can call you mine now, can I not? My Rogue."
The possessiveness in his tone, spoken in a low voice right next to her ear sent a low curl of heat that was not entirely unfamiliar coiling in Rogue's belly. She turned, pulling them to a stop so she could tangle her fingers in her hair and feel him pressed close.
"But you are my Gambit, too," she said softly against his lips.
"Oui," he agreed breathlessly. "Yours."
She pulled him down towards her, so that they were breathing the same air. Then her tongue flicked out, tentatively, half licking her own lips, half searching for his. He leant further into the space between him and trapped her exploring tongue, sucking it into his mouth like an irresistible force, and she felt as though all of her went with it.
Then there was more than tongue; there were lips, soft and rough at the same time, skating along her own lips and opening beneath her as she opened for him. There were teeth, sharp and hard, nipping and pulling, and her tongue exploring them, learning their shape. There was the roof of Remy's mouth, his cheeks, the way his eyes darkened to only a thin ring of red in an expanse of black.
When they pulled away, what could have been seconds or could have been an eternity later, they stayed close together. One of Rogue's hands was still tangled in his hair, the other clinging to the lapel of his coat. Had she been trying to pull him even closer? His hands were warm patches on her ass, that moved back up to her waist as Remy realised where they were.
Remy rested their foreheads together, not caring any more that her touch might mean his pain. How could it, now, when there had been no threat moments before when they'd been much more tenderly embraced? And Rogue didn't care about it either. She was happy, and safe, and she trusted Remy with her life, and her heart, and her skin. So her power stayed dormant, curled up inside.