Disclaimer: I Do Not Own The X-Men Or Anything Related To The X-Men. I Do Not Own The Chapter Title Song, 'Who You Are' By Jessie J Either.

The Chapter Title Song Is, 'Who You Are' By Jessie J.

Thanks to everyone who read the previous chapter. Thanks for taking time out of your busy days guys and gals to read this story. Thanks to Mrs. Jehilew, the guest reviewer, and Coco-Chic for their reviews. This chapter has been looked at and looked at, and discussed multiple times with the patient Jehilew lol. So, it isn't exactly how I saw it, but hopefully, you will enjoy reading it.

She wasn't sure where her feet were storming off to, but as the dimness of the outside world suddenly shifted into blinding light Anna pulled herself out of her troubled mind long enough to examine the room. Schedules for the buses headed to New York were listed in two slots on the board, and both were decorated with large delayed labels. The last thing she wanted to do was wait in Nashville a second longer than absolutely necessary, but it seemed like nothing was going her way tonight.

While standing in line for the only available ticket counter, she tried to ignore the people staring at her. She must have been quite a sight; wild hair, make-up any raccoon would be proud of, and wrinkled clothing that offered no more than basic help against the chilly breeze in the station (let alone the genuinely cold weather outside). Another shiver wracked her tired body, but she refused to step out of the line to dig through her duffle bag for a sweater. Did she even pack a sweater in her hurry?

"Rogue!"

The loud voice startled everyone in the bus depot and forced quite a few heads to look around for the source.

"Rogue!"

The voice called again, and only one person refused to look at the source. She knew that sound and she didn't want to face it. Wasn't it enough that she told him who she was? That was the whole point, right?

"What the hell are you doing?" He grabbed her shoulder forcing her to spin to the side and face him.

"Buying a bus ticket." She answered without looking up to his eyes, "Just leave me alone, Remy."

"You can't honestly leave just like that!" His voice was rising swiftly, causing the bulky man two spaces behind Anna to step out of line.

"This guy bothering you lady?" He eyed Remy up then jutted his thumb towards the door, "Why don't you just leave now, buddy?"

"Butt out." Remy growled at him and turned his face back to Anna, "You have to talk to me, Anna!"

Did he use her real name?

She looked up to see the big man from the line step forward and push Remy away from her. He stumbled back only a step and then charged forward snarling at the hulk, "Fuck off. This is between me and her."

She noticed the strange man's fist clench only seconds before he lifted it from his side. Thinking it would be helpful, she shouted out at Remy to duck. The interruption of her voice was just enough to distract Remy and earn him a nice, solid punch to the face. Blood spurted from his newly split lip and rolled down his chin.

"Leave him alone!"

The sight of Remy's injured face kicked a new degree of rage out of Anna. She spun on her heels and tried to throw a punch right into the oversized man's side. The first one almost caught him off guard and he let out a small groan of annoyance. When she tried to throw another quick punch, he caught her wrist and held her arm up above her head.

"You're both crazy!" He complained, feeling he'd wasted both his time and energy on a pair of lunatics instead of a beautiful girl on the rebound.

Remy's own feelings of protectiveness snapped into action without a single hesitation, as he watched Anna grimace due to the awkward angle of her arm. He socked the man squarely in the left eye, causing the brute to let go of Anna and trip over his own feet.

"Touch her again," Remy snarled when the man's gaze found him again, "And I will show you just how crazy."

The threat, mixed with the furious night guard standing behind Remy, had the desired effect. The hulking man nodded his head and quickly regained enough of his footing to stumble towards the exit. With one task finished, the Cajun turned around expecting to find Anna watching him with big, nervous eyes. The name badge that greeted him instead, was not only shiny but also declared Pete Hanigan, was the head of security.

Whether it was because they hadn't started the fight, or because they were considered more trouble than they were worth, Anna wasn't sure. Either way, as they were shoved ungracefully into the cold night air, she found herself cursing under her breath and massaging her sore wrist.

"You okay?"

She glanced over to see Remy's lip was still bleeding and his shirt was sporting a few red stains, "Yeah. Your lip looks pretty bad."

"'Bout as bad as it feels probably," He added with no sign of a chuckle or any other attempt to raise the mood, not that she could blame him.

"Come on." She directed him across the street to an empty park. It was hard to say what surprised her more, that he followed her or the fact he did it in silence. Had she beaten him down so far that he lost that special boldness?

After sitting down on the only park bench with a cover overhead, she set her bag between them and started to dig through the disheveled contents. After a few minutes, she pulled out an unopened packet of travel-sized tissues and handed him the container. He took it wordlessly and placed one of the thin tissues against his throbbing lip.

"So," She took a breath and swung her feet awkwardly, "Thanks for helping me back there…I kinda figured after all this…"

"You honestly thought I would want you to be hurt?!" He asked with complete shock and slight anger.

"No. Yes…" She sputtered on her words and fears, "Not a physical hurt." She finally mumbled out and kept looking around at anything besides him, "Just, I didn't… it surprised me to see you stand up for me after everything."

"I wasn't the one who tried to sucker punch the guy in the gut." He pointed out, the tiniest flare of pride in his voice. "He never saw that coming."

"Yeah," A nervous laugh escaped her throat, but the accompanying silence sent her back into anxious gestures.

She made some comment about having a bottle of Advil in her bag to help with his soreness, but he plucked her hands from the duffel then knocked it to the floor. He hadn't been attacked in a bus station to sit here and make small talk. There were bigger issues that needed to be addressed.

"Hey! There is breakable stuff in there!"

"Seriously?" He sighed like she was missing the big picture.

"Yes, seriously!"

"Forget the bag!" He growled out with a little more force than he intended when Anna tried to lean down and grab her stuff.

They sat in an uncomfortable stillness for a few more minutes, neither willing to say anything and both almost afraid to even breathe too loudly. Anna couldn't wrap her mind around what could possibly be left to say between them. She had told him who she was, or, more accurately, Bella told him who she was. She tried to explain and he told her exactly where she stood. Did they really need to sit on a cold bench to rehash that she was a horrible person?

Finally, she asked, "How did you know I would be here?"

"I had a feeling you would run away."

"But how did you know to look at the bus station?"

"I had a feeling you would run away cheaply."

She furrowed her brow, not liking the snide comment about her frugal nature. Sure, it was true she would pick the trip with the lowest cost, but that was smart planning. Even in her heartbreak, she was smart enough to plan ahead. It was a good skill, no matter what he said.

"Not all of us can be multimillion singing sensations." She crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on one of her upper arms.

"And some of us can't have the decency to tell the man we're makin' out with our real name."

The sting of his words hit her with lung stopping force. So they were sitting in close to freezing temperatures to repeat the same argument about her being terrible? Great. Just what she wanted to do with her last night in Tennessee ever. Who wouldn't want to spend countless hours dissecting their stupidity while gaining a case of frostbite in the process?

"I told you that I am sorry." She sighed and readjusted her arms so her hands could grip the edge of the bench on either side of her legs. The cold feel of the metal helped keep her grounded as she added, "What else do you want?"

"I want to know why," He paused and reached out to grasp her chin, forcing her to look at him, "Why did you kiss me like that?"

She tried to pull his hand away from her chin, but he wasn't going to give it up, "It doesn't matter anymore."

He dropped his hand and furrowed his eyebrows. Did she actually say that it didn't matter anymore? As much as he fought it in his head, he just couldn't believe someone could pretend to be that interested in another person. He had felt her heart race when she was in his arms and the strength of her desire to intensify their kisses hadn't gone unnoticed either.

But interest or not, it still didn't address the painful questions that had been rattling around his head since that wig fell off. Who was she really? Why did she do this to him? What in the world was or was not between them? And most importantly, why in the world did he care?

Remy blinked a few times to clear the dust from his brain and tried to rephrase his question in a more direct way, "Stop bull shiting, me, Anna."

"What?"

"Tell me why."

Anna's face shifted through more emotions than he could count. When she finally opened her mouth to say something, Remy waited with his full attention trained on her, until she once again closed her full lips. Part of him wanted to just crack open her head and take a look at the thoughts floating around. It would have been a lot easier to get answers, instead of waiting for her to speak.

Watching Remy's crimson eyes burn into her green pair did little but hinder her brain's ability to think straight. Everything that flowed through her mind just didn't sound right. If it didn't sound good enough in her own head, what chance was there that Remy would take it well? I was so ready to have a full and open talk with him, she thought ironically, but now I can't even answer a simple question. All she could think was that he said her name twice now with something more than just vengeance in his voice.

Okay, it wasn't the most romantic sentence her name had ever been attached to. In fact, it was probably the lowest on the list of things attractive men told her. Was it so horrible that she still felt the smallest spark in her chest at hearing the sound come out of his mouth? Even before he knew she was really Anna, the name had always been changed to, 'your mysterious cousin'.

"Anna?" He repeated the name in question still waiting for his answer.

"I already told you." She sighed, unable to keep their eye lock as her real feelings poured out, "I care about you. Despite all the disguises and fake identities. I care about you more than I realized I could. And you don't even know who I am."

Remy was quiet, letting her ramble onward.

"You're right, you know," She laughed bitterly at her situation and spared him a look of defeat fueled by a dream long ago crushed, "You know absolutely nothing about me. My real hair color, my shrimp allergy, my history as the world's worst foster kid. Oh, and that I am apparently completely incapable of living my life without riding my cousin's coattails."

When Remy was still silent, she pushed some hair behind her ear and looked at him with a completely self-loathing expression, "You're the smart one. Run away before you get pulled any deeper into this poor fuckin' excuse of a woma-"

"Stop that right now," Remy demanded in such a deep voice that Anna's mouth fell open for a moment. He touched her cheek soothingly and added, "Don't say that. Not now, or ever."

She refused to let her head lean into his touch. Her pride and heart were too hurt to just forget everything that happened. But, she could still feel the overwhelming desire to close her eyes and focus only on his rough thumb, try and gain her brain's approval. When Remy's thumb stopped caressing her cheek only seconds later, she dared to look into his eyes.

"Why?"

"What?" He mumbled in response to her whisper and let his hand slide from her cheek and down her arm.

"Why do you do things like that?" She cleared her throat and refocused on the chilly wind rushing past her, "Why do you still try to stick up for me? After all, I did."

Remy waited a minute to consider her question a little deeper. He should be mad; actually, he was still pretty livid about being hoodwinked. But madness or not, he just couldn't sit there and listen to Anna tear herself apart. There was something so painful about hearing what she actually thought of herself that he had to speak up. Somehow, whoever this bizarre woman was, she had made it deeper into his heart than he ever realized.

The sudden awareness frightened him, and he suddenly pulled his hand away from her arm. Was he actually considering doing anything more than walking away from this woman forever? All he wanted was the chance to hear the whole story from her mouth, without an audience. Well, he wanted to hear the story and have a chance to rant and yell too. How did she make him want to hug her one second and shout the next?

"Don't really know." He sighed and leaned against the back of the bench. His lip had finally started to clot, so he threw the tissue in a nearby trashcan.

"You don't know?" She had no ground to stand on, but he hadn't let her get away with that as an answer.

"If I was smart," He admitted, "We would fight and then go our separate ways without another thought."

"I just said tha-"

"No," He interrupted and gave her a pointed frown before continuing, "I mean, I should be able to walk away."

"Why don't you?" She noticed he was staring even more closely at her eyes.

"Guess I just have a bigger masochist side than I ever realized?" He took a slow breath and forced himself to answer in a more serious tone, "Look, I am still mad at you. I mean raw, furious anger… But I also can't stop thinking about you."

Anna took a turn as the silent one as Remy tried to find some path between his anger and other feelings.

"Do you have any idea how fucked up it is to think you will never be able to even look at someone again, and at the very same time worry that she is somewhere out there catching pneumonia?"

"I'm beginning to." She revealed, "It is probably a lot like wanting to be close to someone amazing and knowing he will hate you with every fiber of his being the moment he finds out who you are."

"I don't hate you."

She took a slow, deliberate breath unsure if she wanted to question the statement, "Really?"

"Really. I may want to scream and shake an ounce of sense into you, but I don't think I could hate you."

"That's a start." She wasn't sure where the tiny bit of humor came from, but she tried to give him a smile. "Maybe," She looked at his face and noticed he seemed as tired and confused as she felt, "Maybe we could start over?"

"What?"

"My name is Anna," She pushed past the question and watched him let out a small, but real chuckle as she held out her hand, "I'm twenty-five, a waitress at a low-class New York diner, and I usually look a lot more put together."

Remy, for reasons unknown to his common sense, but fully accepted by his heart, took the offered hand and kissed it as gently as he had in their first meeting, "Nice to meet you, Anna. Name's Remy. May I say you look almost stylish? Drowned raccoon could become a new fashion statement."

"Funny, Cajun." She laughed, shaking her head at his antics, "Real, funny."

"What would you say to grabbing a cup of coffee?"

The sudden statement, broke her blissfully ignorant mood, and forced her to ask in a nervous voice, "Excuse me?"

"Coffee. You know, that cheap brown stuff at diners?" He stood up from the bench and after taking a moment to think through a million different options, offered his hand to her, "Two people getting to know each other over a few slices of pie and coffee sounds a lot better than a cold bench, no?"

"That sounds wonderful, Remy." She took his hand and noticed that he held on a moment longer than necessary, "It was Remy, right?"

"Just for that, you are paying for the pie and the coffee." He laughingly replied to her joke and hoisted the duffle bag over his shoulder, "Ever thought of taking that comedy show on the road, Chere?"

Her old nickname randomly tumbling out of his mouth made both of them freeze in surprise. They looked into each other's eyes and noted they were both wearing tiny, but matching, nervous smiles. Maybe they weren't the same as before. And maybe they never would be. But that didn't mean they couldn't become something completely different, together.