Slight Return

Part Fourteen

Wanda Maximoff was starting to get on Rogue's nerves.

It wasn't any one thing the girl did either. Wanda had done nothing personally to her in the short time she'd been staying at the mansion. In fact, the girl was quiet, reserved and did very little to interfere with any one else's life; she rarely even spoke up much. Rogue knew better than to trust it of course; past experience had taught her Wanda was a trouble maker, loud and obnoxious. It was only a matter of time before Magneto's daughter showed her true colours.

That was what was getting on Rogue's nerves, it was the waiting for that day and it not arriving. Knowing that somewhere the shit was going to hit the fan and being on the edge of her seat for the day it would come.

It was hard being in the same room as the girl, dinner times were difficult, and it took careful planning of taking her medications two hours before just so she felt remotely calm enough to even be in the same room as her. She couldn't explain it; she understood the situation as best she could, that possibly everything Wanda had ever said or done might be an underlying condition caused by Magneto's interference. It didn't make it any easier to be in her presence, remembering the horrible things she had done to Remy, remembering that she herself had almost died at the hands of the raven haired beauty.

Sitting at the dinner table with Remy and Wanda was such a torture, looking between them both knowing things had happened that Remy didn't even seem remotely aware of. Wanda would sit there, looking at Remy every now and then, furtive little glances with the odd shyness that didn't fit the normally bold girl's character.

Only a matter of time, Rogue thought that Thursday evening; it was dinner time and meatloaf was on the table which usually caused quite a stir when it was Jean who made it (as much as Rogue disliked the girl at times, her meatloaf recipe couldn't be faulted at least). Rogue glanced across the table at Wanda who was eating quietly at Hank McCoy's side; the girl always seemed to be sat beside an instructor which told Rogue that she was on supervision.

Somethin' to be thankful for, Ah guess, Rogue decided as she sipped her water. Her eyes swayed in Remy's direction, he was digging into his food like a man on death row. He hadn't even gotten home until an hour ago which Rogue found bizarre as she'd taken note of his shift at work usually finishing at twelve judging by the hour later he'd saunter through the door. It had been the second time this week he'd come home much later than expected.

Where is he spendin' all his time? Rogue wondered, she cut into her meatloaf and chewed a little although her appetite wasn't good today; she felt a little sick from the medication. Part of her didn't want to think of what Remy did in his spare time, she had no right to wonder what kind of personal life he had that didn't include her but she was starting to suspect he may be sleeping around.

Normally after his work, he'd come home looking tired and grouchy, which she'd always found understandable considering the things he usually had to tackle at work, but on the days he came home late his mood was normally quite upbeat and jolly. Much more like the Remy LeBeau she'd known long before she'd ever considered joining the Acolytes.

Knowing his mentality and knowing him inside and out as well as she did now, she was well aware there was only one thing that tended to put him in that good of a mood; getting off in some way or another...it always did the trick for him, always made him his happiest, his most content and cheery. She winced at the thought of him bed-hopping; she still had the vaguest recollections of the things he'd done in the past from memories long since absorbed. The details were hazy but the awareness of it was there all the same. She didn't like the thought of him doing that again. Whether it was her business or not, it was irresponsible and he was likely to catch something if he wasn't careful.

For the past few months she'd been trying to force it out of her mind that there was a high possibility that he was going out with various girls while she was gone. It was easy to pretend things weren't happening when she wasn't there to witness it.

Now however there was a very high suspicion that something was going on. For the past week she'd been trying to do as she had on the Island. Pretending Remy's love life simply didn't exist. But he'd started checking his phone a lot, smirking in secret amusement to himself when he thought no one was looking. All of this was completely impossible to ignore. There was someone he hadn't told her about...there were probably many someones knowing Remy LeBeau.

Maybe Ah should ask him? Rogue pondered after dinner as she followed the others to the Rec Room; tonight there was a heavy summer thunderstorm and the rain was pelting down outside so much that it was impossible to enjoy the evening. It had occurred to Rogue all through dinner that Ororo Munro was probably the cause of this weather; she'd been a little flushed, irritable and tired. Rogue suspected PMS, and almost couldn't blame her.

If Ah controlled the weather...it'd be Tsunamis and Monsoons every time Ah got on the rag, Rogue thought dryly as she dropped into an armchair in the Rec room; she'd tried to make a grab for the remote but Kurt Wagner had beat her to it by teleporting to it before she could. She was too defeated and feeling deflated about the situation regarding Remy's secrets to complain or put up a fight for the remote. She didn't care that much for what was on television at this time of the evening anyway.

She sat there for a while in the chair not particularly enjoying the pointless quiz show that Kurt chose to make them all endure. All the same, she was feeling mellow and almost enjoying the strange spaced out haze her anxiety medication left her with. It almost made the situation tolerable in ways she couldn't explain, it took the edge off in ways no one else would have ever understood.

Should have let them medicate me when this thing began, maybe I wouldn't have fucked up so badly before...maybe things would have worked out, she thought drearily, her eyes fell on Remy who was sitting at the end of the couch pushed between the arm and Amara (who disliked him and made a show of making sure he knew she thought he was taking up too much room). Remy was checking his phone again, but in a very uninterested almost subtle way.

He's tryin' to pretend he's not waitin' for the next text to come, Rogue frowned a little to herself, she tried to ignore it. Stop it, it's his life, you got no say.

Logically, she agreed with the advice, intellectually, she wanted to take her own advice. Emotionally, she wanted to throw the advice out of the window, approach him and tell him she was still mad about him and that she didn't want him dating any one else. The selfish part of her felt that if she couldn't have him, no one else should.

The unselfish part of her wanted him to be happy, to move on, live life as best he could and enjoy it; being a mutant was hard enough, happiness had to be grabbed where it lay...

But damn that selfishness was strong. If she couldn't be happy should he have the right to?

Right now she had somewhat of an inkling the medication might be stronger than her emotions...at least right now she could have these feelings without the accompanying anxiety and tears that usually accompanied them.

She pushed the thoughts out of her head and tried to enjoy the television show regardless of finding it boring. Everything felt calm and almost normal until Wanda wandered through after having left the kitchen finishing up with the dishes she'd been asked to help clear away.

Rogue's eyes couldn't help but follow the girl from one side of the room to the other; everything about her was different these days; the way she dressed so modestly, the way she toned down her makeup, the way her hair was growing out. She was like a different person, not quite a shadow of herself but a subtle version and Rogue didn't want to trust that.

Too good to be true, Rogue thought feeling slightly furious at the idea that a machine could change Wanda in that way but could leave herself a wreck. Rogue watched Wanda give a small brief almost nervous glance to Remy before dropping her gaze as she took a place at one of the computers at the back of the room and went to log into her Facebook account. Remy seemed none the wiser at least, sitting there texting deftly on his phone, his expression disinterested with what was going on around him.

Who the hell is he textin' with? Rogue wondered again. A leggy tan blonde? An exotic dark haired beauty with deep olive skin and ebony eyes? Perhaps a dark-skinned goddess with thick curling hair and full ripe lips. Perhaps all three at once...she wouldn't put it past him. Whoever was making him so interested in texting definitely wasn't to do with work.

Just go and ask him, Rogue told herself as she chewed the inside of her cheek, watching him intently. At least then you'll know. If he tells you, then you can just pretend to be supportive, say it's great, that you're glad he's moving on, that he's found someone.

Course...if he tells you, then you'll know...and you might have to hear about how great and beautiful she is...you might need to meet her? What then?

Something hit her and she blinked; she felt whatever it had been land upon her lap and caught it just as it nearly rolled off her knee; it was a crumpled up ball of paper and she glanced around to see who had thrown it and realised it had been Kitty who had been sitting writing in her journal at the other end of the room.

Kitty threw her a dangerous look then looked down pointedly at the ball of paper. She was supposed to look at it, apparently. Rogue carefully un-crumpled the ball of paper and read the words scrawled in purple pen...in Kitty's chicken-scratch handwriting, it declared 'stop staring!'.

Ah can't help it, Rogue thought miserably. It seemed unfair to be asked to stop when it wasn't as if it were something she had control over. Remy had been her first love, and still was as much as she would like to deny it. It was hard being in the same room, pretending like friendship would always be enough. She couldn't ignore him; he was still very much a part of her life.

Rogue sighed and pushed herself up from her chair and without word, left the rec room to head upstairs. Fine. If Ah have to stop staring, then Ah might as well leave the room. That'll make it easier, she thought bitterly as she made her way down the dim halls and made it to the foyer. She'd barely gotten to the bottom step on the staircase when she heard a voice calling after her.

"You're being so obvious."

Rogue turned to look at Kitty, who had followed her. The girl stood there in the hall with her journal dangling from her delicate fingers. "Hmm?" she asked, trying to play innocent already knowing it was pointless to even try.

"Every time he's sitting there with that phone, you keep looking at him, wondering who he's talking to," Kitty said knowingly.

The two began walking slowly up the stairs together. Rogue shrugged, "don't you wonder who it is he's texting with all the time?"

"No, I don't. Why would I?" Kitty asked quietly, "not my business. And it's not yours either. You just have to stop thinking about him now, Rogue. It won't help anything."

It didn't matter what the petite brunette claimed...Rogue was positive that Kitty had to have wondered too, or she wouldn't have taken the time to notice either. "Maybe it's his dealer," Rogue uttered quietly. Now that she thought about it, that could be a possibility, she supposed. Perhaps he wasn't getting off? Perhaps these good moods were simply that he was high. It seemed to her he had to have been high to have come up with a story about going to a craft fair. Since when did someone like Remy LeBeau have an interest in that kind of thing? Arts and crafts was a cover story, she wasn't stupid, it was so unbelievable and she couldn't even believe he'd gotten away with it, that no one had given a second thought about it.

Kitty gave a vague laugh, "he's not on drugs, trust me."

"How would you know?"

"Went through his crap while he was at work like you asked me to. Even though it's totally against my morals to snoop I did it anyway – since he did it to me and all. I went through everything, trust me, there isn't so much as an aspirin in that bedroom," Ktty shrugged. "He's not on anything...I've been watching."

"Maybe he's just hiding the stuff?"

"I was thorough...I checked under floorboards, in bed mattresses. Look, if someone knows where to hide things like that, it's me, okay?" Kitty explained, "he's clean. He's sober, and clean and living a pretty decent life..."

Rogue would like to think it was drugs that accounted for those good moods, at least then it wouldn't be a woman...or several women.

"It's a girl then," Rogue despaired.

"So what if it is?" Kitty asked with a groan. She didn't want to have this conversation, and she didn't want Rogue to be asking these questions.

Rogue had no answer. There was no answer.

"Look, even if it is a girl, and I'm not saying it is," Kitty began very carefully, her blue eyes serious, her expression oddly tight, "I don't think he's...you know, doing stuff."

"Doing stuff?" Rogue raised an eyebrow. Why did Kitty always have to be so polite when it came to these issues?

"Sex, okay?" Kitty rolled her eyes, her cheeks growing pinker.

"What makes you think that?" Rogue asked quietly, she stopped at the top of the stairs. If there was a girl, there had to be sex. It was out of his character, Remy didn't spend time with girls if he wasn't getting something out of it. Even when they had dated briefly he'd initiated that first encounter, he'd wanted something out of it.

Kitty sped up a little in her walk up the stairs, she seemed eager to avoid the question, "just a hunch."

"Oh come on, something must have made you think that..." Rogue tried.

"Nothing made me think it," Kitty replied, "it's just a thought it is all."

"You know something, don't you?" Rogue asked knowingly.

After a moment of hesitation, Kitty sighed, "well..."

"Well what?"

"Look, maybe I've got it wrong, I don't know..." Kitty tried.

"Just tell me..."

"I don't want to get your hopes up...I don't want to mess up your recovery or anything," Kitty groaned.

"My recovery isn't going to be messed up. Look, if he's moved on, whatever, fine. I'd just like to know. Otherwise it's going to drive me crazy," Rogue explained. "So tell me..."

"Fine," Kitty grunted, "I've gone through his room a few times, just to be sure that it wasn't drugs..." Kitty began to explain, she took a deep breath, "Anyway, I checked the drawer in that cabinet by his bed..."

"And?"

"And...he's had the same pack of condoms unopened in his drawer for the past week."

That was odd, Rogue supposed, but not unrealistic. Perhaps he had a few in his wallet he'd been using? It didn't mean he wasn't being active with other women did it? She didn't want to let it get her hopes up, just like Kitty had suggested, she knew it could hinder her recovery if she let it get too far. "So?"

"Well.." Kitty continued, "the pack was in the bag from the drug store he bought them from and the receipt was still in there...so I looked at it. He bought those condoms months ago...and hasn't used them yet."

"That doesn't prove anything," Rogue finally said after a moment of contemplation. "He might have some in his wallet...or...maybe he's just...you know, not using them," Rogue suggested, pained at the thought of it. There'd been a couple of incidents in his life he'd forgone that option but usually it wasn't completely carelessly. Only one careless time stood out in Rogue's mind; his encounter with Wanda in the Laundry room at the warehouse. Rogue shuddered to think of the rough sex between Remy and Wanda that had practically shook the machine more than the drying cycle had.

"I guess you're right," Kitty continued walking again, Rogue followed to catch up. "But either way, it's not our business. He's a grown man...whatever he does when he's not here...that's up to him."

Rogue had the feeling if the discussion had been about Lance Alvers, Kitty's attitude may be slightly different. "Look, he can do what he likes. Ah'm fine with it if he wants to go screwin' around. Believe it or not Ah want him to be happy..." Rogue tried. It was true, she did want him to be happy. It'd just have been much easier if he could have been happy with her.

Kitty looked strangely disbelieving of this, and slightly worried that this might be disturbing her therapy progress.

"Ah just...Ah don't like the secrets," Rogue admitted.

With a disbelieving laugh, Kitty shook her head and looked away.

"What?" Rogue demanded suddenly impatient, "what's funny?"

"You've had enough of them yourself, you can hardly comment on his."

Rogue frowned a little, "huh?"

"What's your real name again?" Kitty asked pointedly and smirked just a little.

"We're talkin' about Remy, not me," Rogue remarked irritably. She hated it when people tried to turn things arund on her.

"Look, just let it go. You're better off not knowing if he's screwing around or if he has someone new. Take it from me," Kitty said, her eyes suddenly a little sad, "I went through it and it only makes it harder...you're better off not knowing. Once you know, you can't unknow it."

"Ah suppose," Rogue sighed. She thought about it; Kitty's words weren't technically true. Things could be forgotten, locked away, pushed to the back of minds. Or they could be stolen forever more like the memories she'd stolen from Remy. Those things could be unknown.

But Kitty was probably right in the long run, if she knew what Remy was getting up to with other girls now...it would only make it harder to move on. It was better just pretending for the time being to be none the wiser, to try and be happy for the boy. If he was going to tell her, he would in his own time. For now, she had to just had to go on telling herself everything was fine.

Remy LeBeau was growing tired of Wanda Maximoff staring at him. He'd been able to play it off, act as if she hadn't thrown so much as a sneaky little glance at him, but he felt it, felt those intense eyes of hers on him and it left him very uncomfortable.

From the moment she'd stepped into the rec room until the moment it hit nine pm and it was time to go bed, he'd felt those eyes on him every so often. It was getting frustrating pretending to not notice; it was hard enough pretending to not notice when Rogue did it, but at least in her case it was understandable. He was allowing it simply because he felt as if she were strangely entitled.

I have a history with Rogue, she probably has a right to look at me, he supposed. Wanda however...just a notch in the bedpost...

In his room, he paced a little; being watched so much had left him feeling quite up tight despite his usual exhaustion at this time of night and he'd had to pace off a little of the nervous energy before he could settle. He checked his phone, text message from Rowan. All throughout the few hours he'd spent in the Rec Room Rowan and himself had exchanged texts about their favourite movies, what they had for dinner, what music they were listening to lately. But now...the subject matter was changing...she was urging him to come over. It seemed innocent enough a suggestion but he read it as an unspoken request for him to spend the night, put very subtly in suggestions they watch a movie and share a bottle of wine and a pizza.

The idea was tempting, until it would get to the end of the film when the wine and pizza were finished and then there would be a bed to be shared and expectations to be met beneath the sheets of that bed.

He couldn't meet those expectations, at least not fully. There was only so much he and his talented fingers and tongue could do to keep her entertained...but eventually she was going to think something might be wrong if he didn't want her touching him and if he tried to hold her back. And he'd have to...it was the only way to avoid her knowing the truth.

I was an idiot thinking I could take up with a girl and just expect things to go all right...it's early, but these days jumping into bed after the second date is pretty much an average thing. Don't know how many more excuses I'm gonna be able to make. Eventually sex is gonna come up sooner or later.

He typed back a response to her suggestion that he come over.

"Sorry, can't. I got no ride for tonight."

With that message sent, he went off to take a shower. The hot water boiled away the tension he'd had all night. The tension hadn't only come from Wanda's staring...but also from Rogue. Not only because of the staring, but because he was growing very aware she might suspect he was seeing someone. He tried to be discrete about his texting but it wasn't easy. It was either ignore Rowan's text (and let her feel ignored) or try to subtly respond when he thought people weren't noticing.

Gonna have to tell Rogue about Rowan sooner or later. Jesus, what kind of reaction is that gonna cause? She's been doin' so well, other than a few little issues, maybe, she's getting better...I don't want to fuck that up for her.

It seemed almost conceited of him to feel that his having a girlfriend might interfere with Rogue's recovery. The problem was, he knew it was true. Handled the wrong way, and this could be a major punch in the face of that recovery. He had to be very very careful about this.

So tell her? Don't tell her? Maybe just let her figure it out for herself and ask? I don't know what's best. Either way she's gonna have my happiness thrown in her face when she can't be happy. Shame she can't move on herself. Maybe if Kitty isn't gonna take up with Pete maybe I could palm him off on Rogue? He wondered.

Remy tried to imagine Rogue and Piotr together as a couple. Would that work? He pushed the thought aside quickly. It left him uncomfortable. He trusted Piotr like a brother, he was his best friend. Despite that trust, Remy just didn't like the thought of those large strong hands anywhere near Rogue. It made his back tense up so much that it took ten minutes under the hot shower before his muscles began to feel vaguely loose again.

No. Setting him up with Kitty, that's fine. But not Rogue. Rogue ain't ready for that yet, Remy told himself sternly. She might be stronger than Pete, but she's far more fragile. Doesn't matter that Pete would treat her right, she's too damaged to be takin' up with any one else right now. She needs to be okay with bein' on her own before she can even be with another person, Remy decided.

Besides...she's kind of limited anyway, he reminded himself as he returned back to his room, drying his hair off as he walked naked towards the bed. He picked the phone up from the pillow where he'd tossed it; a reply had been received. He selected it and glanced over it.

"Maybe I could come see u?"Rowan was asking.

Remy winced. There was a problem. He hadn't told her exactly where he lived in Greymalkin and he didn't want her knowing either. This thought hadn't occurred to him really that some day if they were to get more involved she'd have to know about where he lived, what he did on the sidelines, about the people he socialised with, that she'd have to be told about the dangerous things he did to help the world.

Ain't tellin' her that any time soon, too early to be puttin' my cards on the table, he decided as he typed back a response. "I'm already in bed, it's getting late anyway," he responded with his eyes checking the time stamp on the top of his phone. Yes, nine thirty-five was far too late to be venturing out, wasn't it? He laughed inwardly. Once upon a time he'd have left his bed at any godforsaken hour for a sniff of sex.

But that was before I ended up broken thanks to Rogue, he thought dryly. Before nine pm was a respectable hour, he added, slightly amused by how adult he'd become. Remy tapped send after a moment of consideration then went back to towel drying his hair. A minute later, his phone buzzed with another message, this time the text more deflating than before.

"What r u wearing 2 bed?"was Rowan's question.

Fuck. Why can't she just leave it at that? Why did she have to ask that kind of question. That isn't a polite question...that's an invitation to fucking sext, he despaired.

He wasn't in the mood to text like a sex-starved teenager tonight. It wasn't that he didn't have the imagination; even if he didn't have the drive he could have written some of the most inventive and filthiest things imaginable to please her if he'd put his mind to it. But the problem was he didn't want to. He didn't want that for their first sexual encounter, talking dirty over text messages.

No...this is my first real relationship, so...it should be romantic, not just a casual thing over a text message or two, or talkin' on the phone.

With that, he realised he should probably turn his phone off in case she decided to call to ask the question vocally. He didn't have it in him to tell her he wasn't in the mood. That he hadn't been in the mood properly for some time. At least...not with other women.

He switched the phone off frustratedly and stretched out on the bed, grabbing for the remote and switching the television on. He was exhausted but now he couldn't sleep. He had too many questions going on in his head.

How am I gonna tell Rowan about the X-Men?

Do I tell her about the things I've done in the past?

How do I tell her I've never had a proper serious relationship before?

Do I tell her I'm an orphan? That my adopted family are a fucking band of underhanded lying bastard thieves who'd sell their souls for a little bit of money?

How do I tell her I can't even get it up?

That was the worst part. The worst part was telling her he was sexually broken and might never be able to function right.

Maybe I should think about goin' into therapy...seems to be kind of working for Rogue, he thought as he ran his hand through his damp hair. He stared up at the ceiling, dim orange light from the last of the sunset outside cast stripes across painted white plaster where there had once been nothing but rafters and board. He slumped back down against the pillows and felt completely unhappy at the idea of having to go to someone about this. He'd been holding off any plans of seeing a doctor; he couldn't afford to pay for medical care right now and he didn't want to go to Hank or the Professor with his problem or to ask for some kind of loan to cover the cost.

He was sure the Professor would be more than willing to cover the cost of health care considering what had brought the problem about, but Remy didn't want the Professor knowing all the same. It was embarrassing...and it was bad enough that Piotr knew. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone else knowing; it was too much to stand. He'd rather them assume he was a pervert, getting up to all sorts, a filthy man-whore. It was better than the truth.

Sighing, he switched the television off and rolled over, pulled the pillow over his head and tried to drown the thoughts out as he forced himself to go to sleep. He'd focus on it all tomorrow.

End of Part Fourteen

Weeeeeeeeee, managed to get another part up for the weekend! Yay. I should be in bed of course, but I had to at least get one more chapter posted before hitting the hay. Thanks for all the birthday wishes. My birthday was on Tuesday, but it's Tomorrow that I'm getting taken out (couldn't have had a birthday at the weekend lol). Thanks for all the reviews and interesting thoughts (funny how someone else picked up on the fact that everyone kind of just let the craft fair story fly, lmao - at least Rogue saw through it, haha). Hope you all have a great weekend and hopefully tomorrow I'll be too drunk to feel my age, lmao. Love you all !