BLIND LEADING THE BLIND

PART 14

HONOUR

Rogue dropped herself into a chair at the kitchen table and rubbed her head trying to force away the immediate headache that had begun when she'd banged the back of her head against the brick wall in the sparring room.

He's bein' stupid, she decided as she yanked her gloves off to free her cold yet sweaty palms. If he does this and it all goes wrong, he's gonna spend the rest of his life complainin' about it, or the rest of his life feelin' sorry for himself.

She dropped her eyes to the kitchen table, and absently scraped the index fingernail of her left hand across the soft smooth wood, leaving a long trail in the wake of it to join all the other dents and dots and scratches that marred the top from years of breakfasts at this very table.

All Remy's talk of fate and 'some things can't be messed with' confused her. To be honest, she was sure he was the one who was confused. It seemed as if he wasn't sure what he was talking about any more, and was blaming things left right and centre as if it would actually make him feel better.

But nothing seemed to be making him feel better. Day by day, Remy LeBeau was becoming more a shadow of himself than the day before, he hadn't been exaggerating that part. The boy she knew now didn't resemble the boy she'd known months before, the boy who'd had a smirk and a remark for everything.

Stop feeling sorry for him, she tried to tell herself. He still got himself into this stupid mess.

Conflicting feelings bit at her like an angry viper. She wanted to feel sorry for him, truly she did. But showing she felt sorry for him would show more weakness than she already had the night before. That weakness hadn't worked. Weakness didn't change anything for him, and it didn't give him any cause to change his feelings about this choice he'd made. Embarrassment heated her cheeks as she remembered going to his room trying to contain tears realising that Remy was about to make a terrible mistake.

She wouldn't let herself cry in front of him again; even if he couldn't see it.

His command that she pack her suitcase also left her cheeks burning, but with anger, not embarrassment. Who was he to be spilling out orders in such a way? He wasn't her superior and he definitely wasn't her boyfriend. What right did he have to dictate to her what she would be doing and where she would go?

She slammed her fist angrily on the table just as Logan had stepped into the kitchen, he'd changed into a freshly ironed plaid shirt and his best distressed jeans...that could only mean he was going out somewhere.

"Oh jeez," said Logan, reaching to pick up the keys for his Jeep that were hanging up on the key hanger on the wall by the back door. "What now?"

"Nothin'," she grumbled, she put both hands upon her lap, her cheeks fuming red with embarrassment more than hostility.

"Right," Logan raised a bushy eyebrow at her, "I'm drivin' Scott to the airport; he's takin' a flight out to Hawaii. Wanna come along for the ride?"

"No thank you," Rogue replied. She couldn't believe she had forgotten that Scott received plane tickets for Christmas from the Professor – one to Hawaii, and then a flight back on the twenty-ninth so Scott could spend New Year with Jean. Great, she thought miserably. That means it'll be me and Remy alone until everyone returns on the fifth.

"What's with the face?" Logan asked, he spun the keyring around one finger.

"What are you talkin' about?" she asked.

"Your face. You look like someone just pissed in your cereal," Logan remarked, he scratched his stubbly cheek absently.

"Oh."

"So what's wrong?"

"Nothin'," she got up and made her way to the fridge to find something to drink; at least with everyone away on Christmas vacation there were plenty of good sodas left to choose from. By the looks of it, it had just been restocked that morning. She pulled a can of Diet Cherry Coke from the bottom shelf and popped it open.

"Yeah, it sounds like nothin' is wrong," Logan pushed the fridge shut for her and he leaned against it, "so what'd he say this time?"

Rogue stared down into the open can before taking a drink.

"'Cause I'm assumin' he's said something. You only get in those moods when he's said something."

She kept drinking from the can hoping that if she didn't answer he'd just leave. Apparently, he had no intentions of leaving until he knew what was wrong.

"Well?"

"He's gonna go to this stupid consultation thing on the twenty-ninth," she finally replied.

"Charles told me," Logan explained. "Consultation to see an eye specialist who might be able to give him partial sight back."

There was a thick silence between them, Logan didn't seem to understand what her problem was so she pushed the subject. "Oh, c'mon," she gasped. "You don't think it's a bad idea?"

"I don't know what to think, Stripes," Logan confessed, "it's a consultation, there's no guarantee he can get treated. This is just a look-see to see if there is anything that can be done. There's no guarantee he'll get treated immediately...or that he'll decide to get treated immediately if the consultation is good..."

"But if he does get treated, he could lose his sight permanently. Irreversible damage...no chances of any other treatments from anywhere else."

"If he does then he'll deal – it's his decision."

"Ah know that, but..."

"But?"

"Don't you think he's jumping the gun?"

"Maybe. It's only been a month since he lost his sight, but bein' as I've also experienced temporary sight loss, a month can feel like a hell of a long time. And even though I knew my sight would come back with my regenerative powers...I still would have done anything to get it back..."

"So you agree with him, then. That he should just run blindly in a direction that might not be best?"

"I'm not agreeing with anyone," Logan defended.

"It's a mistake...the Professor should have never told him about this Doctor guy..." Rogue uttered.

"Why?"

"Because Remy isn't in his right mind right now. He makes all these weird comments...about what he'd feel if he did lose his sight for good and...it freaks me out. If this all goes wrong..." she trailed off uneasily.

Logan paused to consider these words, "You think he'd take the easy way out?"

"Maybe..." she glanced down to the kitchen floor; although it had been cleaned many times there was still the traces of Remy LeBeau's blood staining those tiles. No matter how many times those tiles were bleached, she'd still see those stains, she'd still remember all the blood, and she'd still feel that explosion of panic pushing at her chest. "Sometimes..." she began, then hesitated.

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes Ah think maybe...the night he got hurt in here..." she trailed off, her eyes following the memory of the smears and splodges of dark red upon the floor.

"You think what...?"

"Ah..." she tried, then she shook her head, "no, it doesn't matter."

"You think he did that deliberately?" it was Logan's turn to push the subject now. She wished he hadn't; she wished she hadn't even brought it up in the first place but her mind had been so full of thoughts and feelings she hadn't been able to contain her frustration or her wonder.

"Ah don't know," she admitted. "Sometimes he comes off as the kind of guy who loves his life, but this...blindness thing gets him so down...and he gets so crazy and loses all hope..." she explained, "what if he did?"

"He never gave you any indication that it was deliberate, did he?" Logan pushed.

"No."

"Not one little hint that'd make you think he did?"

"He just calls it an accident."

"So you think if this all goes wrong, he's gonna commit suicide based on an accident that happened on his first night here in an unfamiliar kitchen?"

The thought of it had been too delicate for words, and Logan's bluntness came as such a shock that he might as well have dropped the f-bomb, or worse perhaps, the c-bomb. Standing over a place where Remy LeBeau had almost bled to death was bad enough but to do it and be talking so casually about suicide seemed so wrong.

"I've seen that scar, kid, and I'm tellin' you, that's not suicide. That's an accident. The cut is crescent shaped, he didn't slice it, he put his hand down onto it accidentally."

Rogue wasn't so sure. The thought had been fleeting in and out of her mind for weeks but she'd tried to push it aside with so many other worries to deal. She'd tried to tell herself it was impossible, but lately the things Remy had said were beginning to change her mind about the impossibility of that 'accident'.

"What if it goes wrong. What if he has another accident, though?" she fretted.

"Why would you think he even would?"

"It's like Ah said...the things he says..."

"Like?"

"Last night..." she faltered. "Ah talked to him about it and...he said some weird stuff...y'know? Kinda...casual...about how it's not a sin to kill yourself if you don't believe in God?" she chewed her lip.

"Why would he say that?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Ah...guess 'cause Ah brought it up."

"Putting ideas into his head?"

"No...just...tryin' to get him to rethink this..."

"Sounds like you did a bang up job," Logan snorted. "Look, if it goes wrong, he'll deal with it, we'll throw him in counselling immediately after, we'll get him into a school for the blind, hell, we might even possibly be able to teach him how to survive in our world without his sight. We're not gonna let him do somethin' stupid."

"How are we all going to do that, Logan? We can't even get along with the guy without wanting to scream at him!" Rogue pointed out.

"We'll learn. He has to adapt, we'll adapt too. Besides, he kind of grows on you...like a mole."

"Oh come on," Rogue rolled her eyes, "are you admitting you actually like him?"

"I'm not saying I like him," Logan retorted. "Every time I saw him he used to irritate me so much all I wanted to do was kick him up the ass so hard and so far he'd think Doc Martens started makin' hats. "

Rogue smirked faintly, although it was an empty smirk all the same. Smiling right now felt very much like trying to fill a coffee mug with air.

"It's not quite that bad now," Logan confessed, "I wouldn't count him amongst my friends, but I can just about tolerate him."

"He told me to pack my bags," Rogue finally admitted sheepishly.

"He asked you to go with him?" Logan asked, he tossed the keys from one hand to the other absently. "When the hell was all this arranged?"

"When he found out about the appointment."

"And you're goin'?"

"God no. But he thinks Ah'm goin'."

"Why would he think that?" Logan shrugged as he moved over to the back door.

Rogue sighed and gazed to the floor once again, a particularly noticeable blood stain was lingering by her left shoe and she took a step back from it slightly.

"Rogue...?" Logan stopped, his voice suspicious.

"Ah...may have promised him Ah would go."

"You promised him?"

"Ah didn't think he was actually gonna go! Ah figured he'd know what the risk was and decide against it because takin' such a huge risk is idiotic."

Logan rolled his eyes, "You knew he'd take the risk. There was no question of it!"

"Ah tried to change his mind. Now Ah'm gonna have to think of a way to tell him I'm not goin'."

"You can't do that to him," Logan announced.

"Huh?" she blinked.

"You can't not go. If you told him you'll go, you're goin'."

"Wait...you're taking his side now?" Rogue gaped at him. "God, one minute you can't stand his guts, the next you think he's fine, the next you think he's still shifty and you're commandin' me to go extract information out of him and now you're takin' his side over mine?"

Logan's expression became stern, "I'm not siding with him, Rogue."

"Yes you are!"

"No."

"Then what are you doin', Logan?"

"I'm reminding you about honour, Rogue. I taught you better than this. If you make a promise to someone, you keep it. You don't go back on it because it suits you and you don't make empty promises because you expect different outcomes."

"Oh come on!" Rogue rolled her eyes, "this isn't what we covered in the honour lectures and fine you know it. Ah think you just want me to go so Ah can try to get him to tell me about why he was in the chemical plant that day."

"No," Logan replied seriously, he seemed offended at the suggestion.

"Right."

"You can stand there, and argue 'til you're blue in the face. It won't make a difference. There's no choice. You said to him you'd go, you promised it. End of discussion."

Rogue shook her head in disbelief and turned away from Logan, placing both her hands on the counter and leaning over it, breathing deep to try and calm herself.

"You're his friend," Logan pointed out to her, his voice stern, his eyes steely and cold beneath his thick brows. Apparently 'end of discussion' wasn't quite enough.

"Ah can be his friend and not go."

"No...you can't. A friend wouldn't do that."

Like he's the best person to be givin' lectures on friendship, Rogue thought bitterly.

"You stand here goin' on about how worried you are about him...about how afraid you are he might do something stupid, and then you want to leave him in the lurch to go face something like that alone?" Logan asked. "Do you really want to drive him to do something stupid?"

"He won't be alone...he has the Professor – who, in case you forgot, is a doctor!"

"The Professor isn't you. If he asked you to go it's 'cause he needs you."

Rogue sighed. She'd really hoped for more support from Logan but it seemed like that idea had flown out of the window like a flock of angry birds.

"If you'd done that to me..." Logan shook his head, "I'd be really disappointed, Rogue. If I'd needed your support...and you wanted to abandon me...do you know how much that'd hurt?"

She supposed she'd be hurt if someone had done it to her too. "Ah just...Ah don't want to see him do this and end up regretting it..." she began. "Ah don't know if Ah can be there and have to go through that all with him."

"Too bad. You'll just have to deal with it and give him a shoulder to lean on if it does go wrong. Give him someone who can convince him his life isn't over."

"Ah can't even do that now. God, you're puttin' all this responsibility on me! Ah'm the one who has to worry about him and has to teach him how to survive, and Ah'm the one who has to go to this stupid consultation with him and tell him things are gonna be fine when they're probably not!"

"You don't know that they're not."

"Ah don't know that they are either..." she grumbled.

"Neither does he."

Rogue pursed her lips tightly together. How could she fight that argument? Logan was hard enough to argue with at the best of times, but it was even harder to argue with him when she knew he was right.

"Think how that feels, Rogue. If you're worrying about this so much, can you even get how much he must be worrying about it?"

Rogue dropped her head, her cheeks burning with shame and her mind empty of responses.

"He's got balls for wanting to take this chance...and you're bustin' them for it. Whatever your problem is, deal with it and put on a brave voice and be there for him. If it goes wrong, kid, it goes wrong. And if it comes to that, let him do what he needs to, scream, shout, cry on your shoulder..." Logan placed his hand on Rogue's shoulder and gave it a hard reassuring squeeze. "And when he's done, if you need the same...you know where to find me."

Rogue watched Logan leave through the back door to reach where he'd parked his Jeep. She listened to the sound of the engine and the wheels on the gravel outside. With a sigh she turned to leave the kitchen, and found herself face to face with Remy LeBeau.

Flustered, she almost dropped her half-full can of soda, and caught it just in time only managing to splatter just a little of it on her black shirt. "Remy..."

"Rogue," he said, his voice very monotone.

His expression was dark, his jaw set. She understood at once he had been outside in the hallway. Had he heard anything or was this merely incidental that he was standing there now looking rather bothered by something? Panic overwhelmed her at once. "Ah was just...talkin' to Logan..." she stammered.

"Yep." he placed an arm on the door frame and leaned there, rubbing the back of his neck as if a massive tension had build there; his lips pursed, his face so incredibly tight so that the hard angles of his cheeks and jaw stood out superbly. A sculptor could have chiselled him there like that, could have put him on a plinth and displayed him in a museum to show the world how beautiful a man should be.

"Oh..." she chewed her lip. "H-how much did you hear?"

"Enough," he responded coolly.

Fuck, he heard everything, she put a hand to her head and felt disgrace and shame overwhelm her once again. "Ah-" she tried to begin, but she wasn't sure where to. How did she plan to fix this? Was it fixable? She was almost convinced that speaking further might cause her to choke on the foot that was so far in her mouth she'd stop breathing.

"Y' don' have t' go."

She stared at him, trying to read his expression; he seemed suddenly so robotic. She took a sip from the soda can to wet her throat which suddenly felt so dry. "Ah don't?" she finally managed.

"I don' wan' make y' do anythin' y' don' wan' do."

"Remy..." she tried.

"No," he shook his head, "it's fine, Rogue. I get it. Totally get it."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, she thought angrily at herself. "C'mon, Remy, don't be like that..."

"No, it's fine," he threw his hand up idly. "Y' got y' own back. Y' fooled me int' thinkin' y' actually might have cared for me."

Her mouth trembled. Ah do care! She tried to will herself to say it. Ah do care! Say it, Rogue! Say it before it's too late!

"Y' even went that extra mile with the crocodile tears and snifflin'. Y' a great lil' actress, Rogue. Incredible performance. Well done. Congratulations..." he shook his head at her. "Hope it feels good."

She wanted to scream at him. No...this wasn't a triumph! It hadn't been an intent to fool him! Why couldn't she find the strength to speak up? Why couldn't she fight him now when she'd had so much practice and had so much experience at it?

"Guess it's no more than I deserve. You win. Maybe I should go phone up the people who hand out them Oscars and get y' name engraved on one so you can have it on display to remind you of how y' got one over on me, huh? Thanks. Thanks a million."

She watched him leaving the kitchen doorway and she wanted so badly to chase him but weight of her legs seemed to have glued her to the spot and her voice was so lost she couldn't find the words to speak. Even if she could speak...what would she say to him? How could she possibly apologise for what had just occurred?

Fuck. What have Ah just done?

END OF PART 14

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