BLIND LEADING THE BLIND
Part 25
Kiss of Death
Rogue stared up at the ceiling of the hotel room; the fan attached to the ceiling light twirled, casting patterns with the faint light filtering through the blinds at the window. The mattress was comfortable, the sheets were fine Egyptian cotton, the pillows fluffy. Strangely, though, she didn't feel comfortable.
She was exhausted, but the sleep wouldn't come. Instead, she could only lay and listen to that strange whomping of the fan on each slow spin; the hotel room was too stuffy in comparison to the freezing air outside. Now, all that was happening was the fan was circulating the hot air around the room...she had to wonder if that was what was keeping her awake.
Or was it thoughts of Remy?
She rolled over and turned to look out of the open door. She could see into the suite's main living room area, and Logan was stretched out on the couch; was that a snore she heard?
At least someone is getting sleep, she thought dully. She wondered if Remy had gotten any sleep last night. She hadn't had time to properly ask, and when she'd thought to ask during the car ride, Logan had interrupted, throwing the Professor into a long explanation about some press conferences he would be attending in Boston during their stay.
Dinner would be soon, she realised as she checked the time on her cellphone which had been lying on the nightstand. They would be dining out again as the Professor apparently loathed the hotel's menu – and according to Logan, was going to drill she and Remy about the separation plan.
She gave up on sleep after the last of the weak wintery daylight disappeared and the room darkened completely. She turned on the dim light next to the bed and focused on getting ready. She changed out of her jeans and sweater into a pair of black pants and a see through purple blouse that fit nicely over the black slip she'd been wearing beneath her sweater. She dragged the brush through her hair carelessly – which matted it so easily these days thanks to its new length – and gazed at her tired face in the mirror.
Doesn't seem to matter what Ah do these days...Ah always look a mess, she thought miserably as she threw her hair back in an awkward folded ponytail that still dangled strangely at her back. In the mirror, she saw the reflection of her totebag sitting on the floor beside the bed.
She could see the tiny bulge on the front pocket of the tote that showed where she'd slipped the vial of red glitter. She moved over to the bag, sat upon the carpeted floor and retrieved it out of the pocket. She turned it around in her bare hand, the shards seemed to have an odd lustre considering the dull lighting. She even though that the tiny shards of glitter seemed much bigger now too, more like tiny stones, and the fine red glitter that had been to the bottom of the vial seemed more coarse and less powdery. Even the colour seemed different to her...rusty somehow, not as dark red as before.
Ah really need to get it out of him what this is, she thought as she pocketed the vial. Ah've waited long enough and it might be the last chance Ah have for a while.
Rogue wasn't sure how Remy was going to take the Professor's news that he would remain in Boston and she would be sent back to Bayville. She wasn't sure how Remy would respond that there would be absolutely no contact between the two. She was sure he would be hurt by this, and would feel abandoned and betrayed again. Although this time the blame lay with the Professor's decision to separate them, she didn't feel any the less guilty. Perhaps she should have remained in Bayville after all, and pretended to have never found that hair-tie on Remy's nightstand.
Quickly she fixed her smudged eyeliner rather than remove the makeup and start over. She pulled on her platform boots after creeping out of the suite, deliberate to not wake heavily snoring Logan in the process. There was no point in waking the man as he'd already made clear he had no intentions of going to the restaurant with them. Logan despised fine dining, and he had already stated to Rogue earlier in the day 'look, I'm not a filet-mignon and dauphinoise potato kinda guy, Stripes. I'm a sirloin steak and fries kinda guy'. Rogue smiled a little at the comment as she crossed the hall.
She knocked quietly on the Professor's suite door, and there was no answer. She tried the handle and was surprised that it was unlocked. She opened it slowly and peered around the door. Remy was sitting on the couch, shoes untied, hair a mess, still wearing the clothes from this morning. Suddenly she didn't feel quite so self-conscious.
He had the remote to the television in his hand and was switching it from station to station, listening with a dazed look on his face. It was fortunate, she realised, that the suite's television was the same as the one in the rec room back home in Bayville, so that Remy was able to use the remote to find what he wanted.
"Hi," she said quietly.
He paused, and listened, "Rogue?"
"Yeah," she invited herself in and closed the door behind herself. She leaned there against the door momentarily, watching him as he sat there, still now, remote control dangling from one hand between his spread thighs.
"No sleep for you either?"
"Too hot in this place," she sighed as she folded her arms.
"Oh."
Rogue looked around the suite. The Professor's dry-cleaning had been delivered by hotel staff earlier by the looks of it, and was laid across an armchair. "Where's the Professor?" she asked softly.
"He's bein' interviewed by some newspaper journalist about that bill for mutant health care he was talkin' about in the car..." Remy shrugged.
Rogue remembered Logan's warning about she and Remy being in the same room together alone, and for the moment, she chose to ignore it. She pushed herself away from the door, moved to the chair and moved the dry-cleaning so that it hung from the curtain rail above the large balcony doors; she gazed out onto the balcony and remembered the pain of the edge of it as she had leaned over to grab it. Instinctively she put a hand to her stomach, where she was bruised from the pressure of her midriff against the stone.
She was very aware of Remy's listening to every move she made, and that self-consciousness returned again. Had he known what she was thinking? What she was remembering? Did he know where she was and what she was looking at? She shivered at the thought.
"So..." she said, trying to break the tension that she felt building between them, "How...how was the therapy?" she asked. It was the first time she'd had the chance to ask, since the whole of the journey to the hotel had been based around the Professor's explanation of the speeches he planned to give.
Remy lowered his head, as if he were trying to remember where he had left the remote; he hit the mute button with expert precision, "y'know...if a woman's gon' be paid five hundred dollars an hour t' be with me...I expect t' be ridden like a bull at a rodeo," he crudely remarked.
Rogue frowned at him, she was sure he knew it too.
"Or at least be sucked off."
She sighed angrily and dropped into the armchair the Professor's dry-cleaning had sat upon; the leather of it creaked beneath her.
"Even bein' jerked off would have been adequate. But no. I had t' talk about my feelin's."
"That's the point," Rogue sat primly, she felt uncomfortable, especially after his comments. "You're meant to talk about them."
"I talk about my feelin's all the time, Rogue. It's you who jus' don' wanna hear about them."
Rogue chose to ignore this, "What'd the shrink say?"
"She thinks my bein' able t' see defined who I thought I was."
"Didn't it?" Rogue queried.
"I dunno. Sounded like bullshit t' me. She got paid a hell of a lot of money to sit there and point out the obvious. I jus' wanted t' be out of there..." he sighed no, sounding rather tired with it all. "Why y' sittin' all the way over there...y' sound so far away..."
Rogue's cheeks flushed scarlet, she wasn't sure why she had done so. It had been almost involuntary.
"I got a couch over here y' know. I know my ass is probably twice the size it used t' be now that I don' get much exercise but I'm sure it hasn't spread over all three seats..."
"You haven't gained weight," Rogue responded admittedly, she sat forward on her seat a little, "if anythin'...you're thinner."
"How thin?" he asked. She was unsure why he wanted to know; surely he knew he'd lost weight?
"Ah dunno. Not as bad as Christian Bale in that movie 'The Machinist'. That was just...gross."
"I guess y' like men all...meaty. Like Summers."
Rogue rolled her eyes. He sure liked to bring things up that weren't relevant any more. She supposed arguing was the only thing he had left right now that probably entertained him somewhat.
"I used t' look good. Used t' be somethin' t' see. Used t' comb my hair, shave...work out every day...now I probably look like a hobo in comparison t' Summers in y' opinion," said Remy, sounding irritable now.
"Ah don't care how you look," Rogue snapped, instant guilt followed. The look on his face was strange, almost twisted. Was he mad that she didn't care about his looks? Did he really still depend on his appearance? "What Ah mean is..." she stood slowly, sighing softly, "is that...it doesn't matter. What Ah see in you...isn't...what you are on the outside..." she half knelt on the seat next to him on the couch, looming higher than him slightly. "Ah guess the way...you must think of me."
"You think I don' find y' beautiful?" he asked quietly.
"Oh come on," she rolled her eyes again at him, "we both know what Ah am, and it isn't beautiful. Jean is beautiful...Kitty is pretty, and Ororo is stunnin'...and then there's me..."
"Y' got the kinda face that could model couture on a runway," he admitted, "and I've been t' Paris, I've seen those women, and they don' compare t' you."
"Shut up," she picked the nearest throw pillow up and swung it at him hard; it caught her by surprise when he threw up his left hand – the furthest away from her – up to block it from hitting his face while simultaneously swinging his right arm around her and tackling her down to the couch, bracing her chest down with his left arm firmly. The movement was so fast that it took her breath; if he'd had a weapon handy he could have easily murdered her then and there.
She stared up at his sightless eyes, they were looking straight at her and never saw the gaping expression upon her face. He was still, his face tense.
"That..." she began, she tried to inhale deeply but found it hard with his arm where it was and his body pushed against hers, "that was...impressive."
"I've had practice," he sounded deadly serious.
"Ah hope you don't go doin' this kind of thing often to women..." she breathed out what little breath she had left.
"Only when they wan' t' play rough."
"Well...Ah never said Ah did..." she swallowed.
"Y' went t' hit me – that's rough enough f' me."
"Ah can't breathe..."
"It make y' uncomfortable?" he asked, a hot intensity in his voice that made her tingle and tremble all at the same time.
"You're suffocating me..." she shuddered.
"That's how this darkness is...this blindness..." his soft hot breath caressed her lips like the brush of velvet, "pushin' down...suffocatin' me...holdin' me to it..." his eyes seemed to lock into hers.
Why did she feel that pull of his stare, like the draw of a magnet, or the way a tornado pulls everything in its path towards it. She was being dragged slowly, and somehow willingly into him and his face was lowering slowly towards hers, their lips inches apart.
"Remy...don't..." she pressed her hands against his chest awkwardly, trying to force him back. "What are you tryin' to do...?" she groaned.
"It could be exquisite..." he whispered, "that last, soft kiss of death...and the darkness gets me completely...and you...you get everythin' I was..."
She gaped at him, "Remy...Ah...no!" she somehow forced her knee up and caught him in the groin. He made a sound that was halfway between a grunt and the yelp of a dog with its testicles caught on barbed wire.
Remy rolled off and landed on the floor next to the couch, hands pressed between his tightly shut thighs, curled up with his eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared. "Christ..."
"You deserved that!" she sat up quickly, her eyes were burning as fresh tears brimmed.
"I'd rather take death..." he gasped in pain, he rolled onto his right side, still gripping his family jewels.
"You can't play with my powers like that! It's not funny!" she stood and paced frantically across the room, wringing her hands at the air.
"It wasn' meant t' be..." was that tears of pain she saw trickling down his perfect nose?
"You'd leave me here...alone...with your thoughts maybe stuck in my head for the rest of my life? The guilt of knowin' it was my fault you died?"
After a moment, he managed to sit up, still gripping himself, the pain showed in the tightness of his face, "at least it'd be one way I'd be able t' be with you..." he said quietly.
"Not funny," she said again, she swept angrily at her tears. "Why do you act like this?"
He had no answer for her, he sat there, face sullen now. He shook his head. He didn't know.
She stood still now and glared at him, "You're bein' this way is why the Professor and Logan think we should be split up! They're gonna stop me from seein' you, Remy...don't you know that?"
Remy looked up now, although he couldn't see her he sensed her direction, his face became a blank.
"They think that me and you bein' in the same room together is a bad idea because you always go crazy like this! And now Ah have no choice! Me and Logan are leavin' tomorrow..."
"But...I need y' here..." he began.
"That doesn't matter to the Professor...he's focused on getting you healthy...and that doesn't include my bein' here!"
"What if I don' go through with this treatment?" Remy asked quietly, voice still tainted with pain.
"It doesn't matter. The Professor is gonna take you with him to Washington...where you'll meet with another shrink while he's workin' on lobbyin' for the mutant health care thing..." Rogue explained, "And Ah'll go back to Bayville with Logan and go back to school..." she swallowed. "Ah won't be allowed to call, or to write you. And if you leave to go back to Louisiana...and don't go back to Bayville..." she looked away from him. It was hard to look him in the eyes even if he couldn't see her. "If you don't come back to the Institute...Ah'll never see you again," more tears spilled, this time they weren't angry.
"They can't do this..." Remy shook his head.
"They can and they will. It's already done, the plans are already made, Remy..."
"I can't help the way I've been actin'...they can't punish us for somethin' that we got no control over..."
"They don't see it as punishment. They think it's prevention...and after what you just tried to do...maybe they're right..." Rogue headed for the door, "Ah...Ah should go...we aren't meant to be alone together...this is why they didn't want us together. God...Ah should have listened to them! We shouldn't be together."
"So this is it, then..." he stood slowly, pained, "the last time we will be..."
"Ah...Ah guess it is..." she opened the door slowly, and then hovered for a moment, staring off into the hall. "Remy?" she asked softly over her shoulder.
"Oui, Cherie?" he asked, there was a catch in his throat, as if he were having trouble speaking at all.
"Promise me somethin'..." she requested as she traced her finger around the edge of the door frame absently.
It took a moment for him to decide, but he finally responded with, "okay?"
"Don't...don't do anythin'...stupid..." she glanced over her shoulder at him, "okay?"
He sighed the answer, "okay."
Rogue waited, hoping he would give more than just an 'okay'.
"I promise," he finished, he sounded beaten, weak and defenceless.
"Ah'll...see you at dinner..."
"Shame I won' be able t' see you."
End of Part 25
Thanks to everyone for their continued support of the story. The reviews have been pouring in consistantly for some time now and it always gives me the warm tingly fuzzies that someone took time out of their own days to say they liked the chapters or took time to tell me what they think (it's so much fun seeing people trying to predict what's going to happen next or what they think the meaning is behind certain things!). You're all so wonderful, you always make my days/nights. I must retire to the land of nod (climbing the wooden hill to Bedfordshire). I love you all :) 3