DARKNESS WITHIN

Part Thirty-Seven

The next day at work went much faster for Remy LeBeau. There was very little time to think as he moved quickly from room to room cleaning, changing sheets and trying to finish what he could not the day before. During the evening large a group of travellers had stopped in at the Bayville Best Motel, but had left an excess of mess in their wake, towels everywhere, empty bottles on the floor, food wrappers, food and drink on the clean sheets he'd only just changed the day before.

He took a break at eleven am and it was only then that he'd had time to wind down a bit and think. He'd seen Rogue briefly that morning, he'd been heading to one of the upstairs bathrooms because the hot water had stopped working in the one on the first floor. She'd barely given him an awkward glance as she'd been leaving the girl's bathrooms, although he had asked how Kitty was, she had simply gone straight to her room, the door shutting quietly behind her without answering, leaving him feeling perplexed.

He'd thought her strange attitude might have simmered down over night, but she still seemed angry for some reason. He supposed he wouldn't get to the bottom of it until after work.

Gotta go to that stupid danger room session, he reminded himself as he stood outside on the mezzanine of the motel courtyard smoking a cigarette. She'll be made to go to that. As far as they know, Kitty has the flu so there's no reason for her to skip out on that, especially since they're trying to get her back into the swing of functionin' as she was.

Although he was tired and achy, part of him was strangely looking forward to the Danger Room. He'd seen a few sessions since awakening from the coma, but he'd never participated, and he had a feeling things would be very different on the other side of the glass. He was looking forward to interacting with everyone, seeing how he fit in. Seeing if he could really fit in.

For all I know, it just won't work...and I'll have to think about leavin'. I could always get an apartment in town if it doesn't all pan out...

He had to wonder why he'd want to stay in Bayville if he couldn't mesh well with the X-Men when it came down to it. He'd proven he could tolerate them, and they could tolerate him but that was as far as it went right now. If it didn't work out, why bother to stay?

Because I'm sick of runnin'. It's time to do somethin' that ain't runnin' from place to place. I don't wanna end up in my thirties and have never known what a steady home feels like.

It was time to be a grown up. Grown up activities, friendships, perhaps even relationships...if he could get over the impotence that was.

He checked his phone for messages, there hadn't been any. He wasn't sure why that disappointed him. No messages was a good sign. No one trying to get in touch meant everything was all right, there were no problems...nothing to worry about.

So why was he still worrying?

Because I left a girl with severe anxiety alone with a girl detoxing cold turkey. There's plenty to worry about.

He went back into the room he was working on after finishing his cigarette, and he listened to some music on his phone while he cleaned. The music did little to help clear his mind of the thoughts he'd had during his break. Four rooms later, and he still couldn't help worrying about Rogue taking care of Kitty.

It all has to come to a head sooner or later. If Kitty doesn't detox fast, it's gonna get obvious real soon. It's a shame we couldn't just send her to a rehab and let everyone think she's on vacation with her parents. Professor would probably call up to check on her though, so we'd never get away with that.

The day progressed quickly with very few problems. He was glad when his shift ended and he was able to clock out and climb onto his Harley. He'd finally been given the access to his own key again, thankfully.

It seemed to him that the bike sounded different than he remembered leaving him wonder if so much time unused had left it needing a tune up badly. He made a mental note to remind him to ask Logan. In the garage he'd noticed a '65 Panhead parked at the back, he was sure he'd seen Logan ride the thing during some secret surveillance long ago. If anyone knew about tuning up a Harley, it was most likely going to be Logan.

He stopped at the supermarket to get some things he needed. He'd run out of deodorant and hated the cheap brand of shower gel that had been issued for his use when he'd come out of his coma as it always left his skin slightly dry. As he pushed the cart around the supermarket idly, he felt strangely domesticated.

Condoms, he thought dully as he stared at the display not too far from where he'd picked out his razors. Will I ever even need them again? He picked up a packet, wondering if it would be apt just to throw a few in to at least seem to the cashier that he was still a man, that he had use of such things.

Stupid, he put the packet back, shaking his head sadly at himself as he pushed the cart further along, coming across the snack aisles. His stomach growled and he picked out a couple of bags of chips, deciding that after dinner he'd pig out and watch a movie in his room on the television and DVD combo that he as of yet, had not returned to Logan (and had no intentions of returning either since Logan had made it clear he didn't use the thing anyway).

He was surprised to see down at the end of the aisle, just as he was leaving it, that Lance Alvers was standing quite close to the display of Doritos and dips, he turned looking over his shoulder shiftily before shoving something into the inside of his jacket.

Shoplifter, man that was obvious and pretty badly done, Remy rolled his eyes as he pushed the cart and made a deliberate point of accidentally letting it bump into Lance's backside.

"What the fuck-?!" Lance yelped.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Remy spoke up, "cart got away from me—oh, look who it is," he innocently blinked, "Long time no see..."

Lance frowned, his dark eyes intense and suspicious, "what do you want?"

"I want nothin'. I'm just here doin' some shopliftin'...oh, no, wait, that's you."

The younger boy's face turned scarlet, "I gotta eat."

"Magneto not payin' you?"

"The team disbanded, which you already know since Colossus ditched us to go live the high life with you dweebs."

Remy picked a tub of sour cream dip from the display behind Lance's head, making a deliberate attempt to intimidate him by ensuring his hand nearly caught him in the face as it moved.

Lance swiftly moved out of the way, his expression slightly startled.

"So how come you didn't join the X-Men if things were that bad?" Remy asked casually, he put the dip in the cart.

"Join that bunch of assholes? I ain't that desperate," Lance uttered.

Looks like you are, thought Remy as he eyed Lance picking out another packet of chips and stuffing them down the other side of his jacket before swiftly zipping it up. He looked fat, and unconvincing. "I see," Remy began pushing his cart again, Lance followed slightly at his heels, "so I guess it's nothin' to do with the girl you humiliated by datin' and makin' plans with and then proceeded to step all over her heart by shovin' your dick into the nearest pussy you could find," he said quite nonchalantly.

Lance sped up, "that's none of your fuckin' business," he snapped.

Remy felt the floor rumble a little, he hoped to god Lance wasn't about to rip the floor apart in a public place; he was sure even if it hadn't been directly his doing, the Professor would not be pleased if he was seen on camera as being involved in this kind of mutant vandalism.

"I heard all about it, Alvers. You broke that girl's heart."

"That wasn't meant to happen and you goddamn know it."

Remy blinked. How was he meant to know that? "You thought no one would find out? You thought she wouldn't find out?"

"I got sucked in! You know what it's like with women like Wanda...fuck, you know what it's like with Wanda. She decides she wants somethin' and you don't get a fuckin' choice, man," Lance suddenly looked rather guilty and upset. He walked away a little to look at one of the other displays.

"Wait...what?" Remy asked, now utterly perplexed. That had been the second time in the space of a week someone had alluded to his having some kind of...what? Some kind of involvement? With Wanda? He asked himself, laughing hysterically in his mind. No way, she's a fucking man-eater, and a psycho...never in a month of Sundays.

"At least I just did it once. You went on and on with her. And all the while you were leading on-"

"Sorry, sir, you'll have to come with me."

Remy turned just to see a rather burly security officer moving forward and grabbing Lance by the arm. He's been caught. Knew it was gonna be too obvious for him to get away with that.

"What the hell? I didn't do anythin'..." Lance struggled.

The guard grabbed the zip of Lance's jacket and pulled it with one swift yank and the jacket fell open, dropping the two bags of Doritos to the floor.

"This is fuckin' racism!" Lance struggled, the floor starting to rumble; on the shelves a few items fell, including a jar of sour cream which smashed and splattered the contents all over the clean tiles and one of Remy's boots.

Remy coughed, "don't," he said quietly to Lance.

Lance frowned, "why shouldn't I?"

"Just don't."

"You're one of those mutants!" gasped the guard.

With a hard yank of his arm, Lance broke free of the security officer's grip and took off in a wild run down the aisle, the guard taking off in a run after him.

Fantastic, Remy thought. He made a mental note to not tell Kitty that Lance had almost been arrested at the supermarket for shoplifting. He supposed he should finish and pay for his shopping before they suspected him of something just for being there by association.

Trouble just follows you wherever you go, doesn't it?

Rogue was growing bored. All Kitty was doing was sleeping through her withdrawals, which ideally was fantastic for her, and made it easy to hide her true situation, but unfortunately for Rogue it was excruciatingly boring as hell, it left her sitting watching someone sleeping all day and for the most part, all night.

It had been hard to sleep knowing that in her sleep Kitty may choke or become worse and truly need to get medical help. And so she'd remained vigilant, sitting up in a chair near Kitty's bed, reading one of her books and waiting for anything to happen.

Luckily, it had not.

All the while, waiting, feeling miserable, it was leaving her more depressed than she had been in days. Remy's interest and determination to take care of Kitty left her feeling practically abandoned. In her mind she saw him falling for the petite pretty brunette despite logic told her that it couldn't happen, that they were too different.

Anythin' is possible, she supposed.

A quiet knock on her door disturbed her from the chapter of her book she had been trying to read. Putting the book face down on the chair, she got up and moved swiftly to the door, pried it open a little and peered out, hoping to god it wouldn't be yet another instructor wanting to check on Kitty to make sure that she was all right (and that she herself was all right too).

It was Remy standing there, his hair was wet slightly wet from the rain shower that had started recently; she'd heard it tapping on the window and had opened the window a little to hear it better, it had soothed her only slightly.

"Hi," he said, trying to seem bright.

Her eyes averted from him, but she managed a quiet, "hi."

"Can I come in?"

She opened the door and mumbled, "if you like."

Remy moved in, glancing out of the doorway and down the hall briefly before shutting the door. "How is she?" he asked.

"She seems better...not as much whining or anything," Rogue dropped herself on the bottom of her bed, she tried to hold herself back from sounding bitter.

Remy had a plastic bag with him with the local grocery store logo on it. He put it on the floor and went to check on Kitty. He sat on the side of Kitty's bed and put his hand upon her forehead, checking for any kind of worrying temperature.

"She's not as sweaty," he noted.

Rogue averted her eyes and sighed inwardly, heart sinking in her chest.

"How long has she been sleepin'" he asked.

"An hour, maybe. She had a sandwich, then went back to sleep...she said she still had a little pain."

"At least she's eatin'," Remy supposed. "Must be hell, havin' to go through this," he confessed, his voice a quiet whisper.

"Yeah," Rogue uttered softly.

Remy turned to look at her strangely, "are...you all right?"

"Yes," she got up and moved to the window to check what the weather was like although she didn't particularly care about it. She just didn't want to have to look at him right now.

"Work was tirin'," he said, seeming to hope for a change of subject, seeming to sense her displeasure at talking about Kitty.

"Really?" she asked, trying to feign interest but it came out sounding rather monoton and robotic.

"That place is a wreck...gonna take so much work to get it up to standard."

"Oh," she turned and moved towards the chair to get her book so she could put the marker in.

He watched her, his expression slightly frustrated, "are you sure you're okay, chere?"

"Yes."

"I see..."

She put the bookmarker on the page she was at and closed the book with a soft thump.

"The rooms there...so shockin' and dirty," he spoke up after a moment, his voice strange, "can't believe I'd have ever stayed there."

Rogue's mouth dropped and she looked at him in shock, did he remember? How could he have known he'd stayed there if he had no memory of it? Where had he gotten that information? Had he seen the register? No, the register had my fake name on it, not his...

Something in his eyes spoke of a strange recognition, like he had waited for her to have that reaction. She looked away again quickly, trying to hold back the want to start screaming and crying, her face immediately exploding with tiny bursts and tingles. The panic would come and she wouldn't be able to fight it, it had built up too much and not enough of it had been released lately for her to be able to keep it in.

"So...what you been doin' all day?" he asked casually, sitting on the edge of Kitty's bed, watching her shifting from one foot to the other nervously.

"Readin'," she managed after a moment of struggle to keep the panic at bay.

"What about?"

"It's one of Kitty's books," Rogue shrugged, "about a girl forced into the Geisha lifestyle..."

"Memoirs of a Geisha?" Remy asked curiously, looking up at her.

"Yeah," Rogue sat on her bed slowly, she clasped her hands tightly together and pressed them hard between her knees to try and crush the tingling out.

"I saw the movie," he admitted, "not bad for a sappy woman's movie."

Rogue looked to the floor uneasily. Would he notice her panic? She didn't want him to notice any want him to see her like this. Didn't want her to know she hated that he seemed to care more for Kitty's situation than hers.

"Don't worry, I won't tell you how it ends," he promised with a chuckle, he grabbed the plastic bag from where he'd left it, stood up and moved over to the other be and sat beside her, "I had to hit the market for some stuff," he explained. "Got you somethin' while I was out."

Rogue looked at the bag in his hands, she didn't want to take it for fear that he'd see her own hands were shaking now. "What is it?"

He seemed slightly confused that she wouldn't take the bag from him, but he shrugged and reached in, pulling out a small box. "It's...that chocolate fudge cake you liked..." he explained, "they sell it in individual slices so..." he held it out to her.

She stared down at the price tag that was still on the plastic box the individual slice of cake was in. Had he really paid that? "Four dollars...for a slice of cake?" she said trying to sound sceptical to hide how upset it made her feel.

"Twelve..." he pulled out two more of the boxed slices, "you liked it so..."

Rogue realised he'd have been cheaper buying the whole cake probably, but she supposed it would have looked strange to present her with a whole cake in her room. She wanted to point out he'd been way overcharged, but couldn't muster the words to be cruel at the gesture.

"I just...saw it...and I thought of you..." he admitted, "that's all."

"That's...that's really nice of you," she said quietly, dropping her eyes to the floor, her stomach churning.

"Rogue...I got somethin' really important to ask you..." he drew his breath, "it's...just...I-"

The door opened quite suddenly, and Logan was standing there looking displeased. "LeBeau, what were you told about rules?" he asked without so much as even a hello.

Remy looked up, "sorry, I thought I'd left that door open, guess the wind caught it," he gestured to the open window. He didn't even miss a beat, much to Rogue's relief.

"What's all that?" Logan extended one of his adamantium claws and pointed towards the boxed cakes in Remy's hands.

"Cake...chocolate cake," Remy explained truthfully, "brought some for Rogue...I know she likes it and...well, we both know she needs to get fat so..."

Rogue frowned at Remy at this comment, but she didn't have the chance to snap at him for it as Logan spoke again.

"You two better get ready for the Danger Room."

Damn, Ah forgot about that, Rogue realised in distress.

"You have twenty minutes to get dressed and get your asses in there. LeBeau, I just put a uniform in your room; Professor ordered it in for you based on your old measurements, so it might be slightly loose, I don't know, Rogue's probably not the only one who needs to get fat."

Remy snorted, "well, yeah, I'd get fatter if you guys would stop servin' such terrible tastin' food and get in some decent cuisine," he put the cake boxes on the bed and stood up.

"How's Kitty?" asked Logan, he moved over to check on the girl, but didn't seem to see anything unusual judging by the lack of suspicion on his face.

"Ah think she's getting a little better, she's not sneezin' as much," Rogue answered quickly. All the same she was glad she'd taken the time to add even more tissues to the bed area. She'd even dropped some water onto some of them from her water bottle just to make it seem a little more authentic. Used tissues during a bad cold were rarely ever bone dry.

"Good," Logan replied, keeping his voice as quiet as he could, "Danger room, twenty minutes, both your backsides better be in there on time. Or else. LeBeau. Out," he pointed to the door.

Remy shrugged as he glanced towards Rogue, "enjoy the cake, chere. I'm gonna go see what the new threads are like."

Rogue gave a silent nod and watched him go.

Logan stood in the doorway for a moment, observing Remy as he left, then turned to Rogue and examined her before speaking, "things are looking up for you."

She picked up one of the cakes and opened the box and peeled the plastic fork away from the box that had been taped to the inside. She dug the fork into the cake and sighed, "Ah'm not so sure."

"A guy doesn't buy a girl chocolate unless he cares, even I'm sensitive enough to know that one, Rogue," Logan snorted, "don't eat too much of that before the session. Last thing we need is you throwin' up over everyone."

Rogue chewed a piece thoughtfully, "you sure this session won't be too hard on Remy?" she asked. "He's been out of action for so long...it'll be pretty intense for him."

"I'm countin' on that, actually," Logan responded, "he needs to start from scratch, he's forgotten a lot but when in the face of danger, in the face of getting hurt, some of it is gonna come back. At least, that's my theory..."

"What makes you think some of it will come back?" Rogue asked.

Logan had a strange almost suspicious look on his face that he quickly changed, "no reason. Just instinct should get him back into the swing is all. Eat and get ready, we don't got all day to wait for you, kid."

"Ah'll be there," Rogue sighed, she put another bite of the cake into her mouth, savouring the taste of the chocolate as she watched Logan shut the door behind himself. She couldn't help but feel that the cake tasted much better this time around. Maybe it was because this time it hadn't been sitting in the X-Men's fridge all day.

Or maybe...it was just because Remy LeBeau had brought it.

The Danger Room session was far more hectic than Remy LeBeau had expected it to be. He struggled over obstacles, had too many near misses to count, and had needed bailed out of some sticky situations more times than he would have liked to admit.

Jean had managed to stop him from being stomped by a large robot, and it was Scott who – despite his obvious hatred – had blasted a robot before it had crushed him to death with it's arms.

Aching all over, limping across the holographic landscape, he'd groaned and struggled, unable to summon enough of his power to even use in a single card. They simply fizzled and refused to explode, leaving him in complete dismay.

Yes, this was indeed much harder than he had thought.

The leather uniform he'd been provided with fit decently enough (only slightly loose), but it left him feeling so overheated that he could feel the sweat dripping down the dips and bumps of his skin, even right down into his backside which left him quite uncomfortable and miserable.

Didn't think it'd be this bad, he thought, just barely dodging out of the way of one of the robots; it lost sight of him, and he ducked down behind the holographic image of a parked car, he gazed through the windows watching the others sail through this with barely any work at all, using their powers, their teamwork, while he was unable to provide anything but a liability to them.

It left him quite miserable.

He saw Rogue to the far left, punching a robot until it's head literally came off and dangled from its shoulders by thick cords and wires. Despite how frail and thin and pale she looked, she had never seemed more alive as she had right then. She was far more capable now than she had seemed during that one session where she had stood there and let herself be pounded repeatedly.

It was impressive.

He smiled as he watched her up until the robot he'd been hiding from found him and lifted the car up, throwing it away in one swift movement (narrowly missing Kurt who teleported before it could impact with his head). As it swung, the tire hit his head. It might have not existed, but it certainly hurt. He couldn't quite understand how things that weren't there could feel so damn tangible, but the back of his head felt the thump of the rubber and he grasped his head, gasping.

"Pay attention!" Remy heard Logan call over the microphone from the control annex, he sounded furious.

He rolled as a fist came down to try and meet with his body, the other came down and he rolled to the opposite side. He pulled himself up, staggering as the robot stomped towards him with full intent to destroy him. The red eyes were lit up and on him, focused well on him. He wondered if they were just for show or if there was an internal camera somewhere focused on him from elsewhere. Either way, he needed to get it off of him and fast.

"Come on, Gambit, take it out!" Logan instructed loudly.

This felt humiliating. Everyone could hear him being singled out for complete disgrace that he'd become so incompetent during his down time.

Bo staff, for fucks sake, he instructed himself as he fumbled for the pocket on his thigh where he'd had to place it. The thing fell and rolled away; the Robot swung it's arm towards him and he ducked and hit the floor belly first, pushed himself towards the staff, his fingers weren't near enough. A slam again, he rolled to his left, rolled again to the left as it tried again, and then to the right as it attempted to make mincemeat out of him with its large foot. He scrambled, his fingers caught the staff and he hit the catch and let it extend to the full length, as it bent down to try and swung towards him, he ducked, thrust the pole up and hit it straight in the left eye. It buzzed, and sparks shot out of the socket, it stumbled, some circuits must have been damaged because now it moved in quick jerking dangerous moments, the remaining eye flashing violently.

He gave the right eye the same treatment with the same end of the staff, and then rolled out of the way as it was completely blinded, ran around, and used the staff to vault up onto it's back, hauled himself up and attempted to charge the head of the thing as it tried to desperately shake him off, buzzing and sparking all the while.

It was pointless, he just didn't have any power reserve left following his pathetic attempts to charge up the cards earlier in the session. Hitting the catch on his staff the telescopic steel scraped back to put the thing back to the original one foot length, and he slammed it into the space between the robot's neck and began trying to desperately pry the thing's head off. He climbed up onto the shoulders, gripping the helmet of the thing tightly to anchor himself and slammed his right foot onto the staff jutting out. The head dipped sideways slightly, he tried again.

It wasn't working. He wasn't strong enough for this. The robot got a hold of him and tossed him to the floor; he landed with a hard thud and he grimaced as he tried to lean up. His eyes caught the fist just as it was swinging towards his face, barely inches away. He was frozen to the spot, backed into a corner, no way to escape.

The Danger Room powered down just then, the whirring and humming of the machinery dulled down to a quiet gentle tapping and then eerie silence as everyone stood there over the last echoes of their robot kills. The landscape was disappearing pixel by pixel, and finally all that was left was a vast steel walled room with bright lights and cold steel floors.

The session was over.

Remy was trembling, unable to catch his breath, sweating profusely, hurting in every muscle and bone in his body. The others either chose to sit down to rest for a few moments, or chose to start filtering out of the room as the large double doors opened. He wiped the sweat from his brow shakily, trying to control his breathing.

Don't let them see you like this, do not show your weakness, he told himself angrily. He'd known he would have been weaker than he had, he hadn't realised how weak. This left him feeling practically human and useless.

Impotent, powerless, weak...I'm almost just a human again, he thought dully. He felt something grab onto him under his arm and pull him up, surprised he turned to try and swung, thinking for one moment one of the robots had lingered in the room, but he saw Rogue there, holding onto him.

As she pulled him up, his legs seemed to collapse from under him, weak and jelly like, exhaustion made him feel heavy. She said nothing, but she had a strange look of sympathy and guilt in her eyes. He grasped onto her arm and tried to pull himself up, but with her strength it was hardly necessary.

He examined her in the harsh light of the Danger Room. She hadn't even broken a sweat. Not a hair out of place, not a tear in her uniform...nothing. She was the only one of the team who looked as if she hadn't been touched. If being defeated hadn't left him feeling emasculated, if being impotent, and working in a maids position at a motel hadn't, this certainly did. Inwardly he sighed.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

"Oh, I'm just fine, was just...sittin' enjoyin' the view," he explained, gripping onto her arm.

"Ah knew it was too soon for you to be in here," she shook her head, she glanced up to the window looking into the control annex, her eyes darkened.

"Had to happen sooner or later, chere," he admitted, he steadied himself and let go of her, he was determined he didn't need her help to stand, he didn't want to show any more weakness. As soon as she let go of him he almost crumpled to the floor, weak-legged and aching, muscles that hadn't been used in months strained and crying.

"Whoah..." she caught him swiftly, putting her arm around his back and holding her hand under his arm, "you sure you're okay?"

"Just...achy, that's it...muscles ain't been worked like this in a while, you know..." he breathed heavily, "help me to my room?"

She had little choice, Remy supposed. It would take all day for him to walk there on his own the way his legs and back felt right now. He'd landed right on his back during a fall in the Danger Room and it now felt incredibly tight and sore.

"You shouldn't have been in there," she sighed as she helped him into the hallway and began the slow careful walk to the elevator, "You hurt your back, didn't you? Ah saw you land..."

"It happens," he shrugged, wishing he hadn't. "Oh..." he gasped.

Just as they had gotten to the elevator, Logan appeared from the Control Room elevator on the opposite side, "you're more out of shape than I thought."

Rogue almost let go of Remy, she seemed suddenly quite furious, "how could you do that to him!?" she demanded, "he wasn't ready! He-"

"He won't be ready for what's out there either!" Logan pointed out, "you think he'll be able to survive if we get attacked suddenly with no warnin'? Part of the Danger Room is about not bein' prepared, but adapting to what happens, whatever comes your way."

"You deliberately set that session far too high," Rogue snarled, "you could have killed him."

"Rogue..." Remy gripped her shoulder tightly, "he's right...he's right...it could happen at any time, I could be on the way to work and get ambushed...I could be in bed...I could be anywhere...I need to be prepared. There was nothin' wrong with the settin', the rest of you were doin' fine. It was just me that was the issue..."

Logan folded his arms, "it's like bein' a virgin, kid, sometimes hurts the first time, sometimes turns out to be a really shitty time and you regret that it wasn't what you thought it'd be...but it's what leads to experience, and knowin' what to do and how to do it right. No one expected you to be a great lay on your first bang."

Remy almost admired Logan for at least having the sense to put it in a metaphor he would understand.

Rogue sighed, "are you done pokin' fun at him?"

"I'm not pokin' fun, I'm makin' a point. I didn't expect him to be good, I expected him to just survive...and he did."

Gripping onto Rogue still, Remy sighed, "can I go get out of this sweatsuit now? I really need a shower before dinner."

"You have twenty minutes, you better make it a fast one," Logan warned. "Rogue, report to Ororo when you get him to his room, she needs help setting the table."

In the elevator, they were silent as they listened to the hum of the mechanism, and all along the hall to his bedroom, not a word was uttered. Rogue opened the door carefully and led him inside, helping him to sit on the bed.

"He's such an asshole sometimes," Rogue uttered finally, she clenched her fists stubbornly.

"Xavier pays him to be an asshole. The reason he's such a good trainer is that he is an asshole. I've seen the way he mentors the rest, Rogue. You don't need kind words when you're tryin' to improve yourself, sometimes you need pushed...tough love," he reminded.

Rogue folded her arms stubbornly.

"Help me out of this thing..." he groaned; he'd pulled on the zip but leather was still so new and stiff that it was hard to find the strength to yank it off considering how weak he felt at this moment.

"What if-" she began.

"What if we colonise Mars and it's legal to marry aliens over there?" he asked quickly, deciding to cut her stupid questions short.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"Stop asking stupid questions and just do it, Rogue...I can't do this right now, I'm in agony, okay? Please..."

Rogue gave a sigh, took a hold of the edges of his leather suit in her gloved hands and pulled gently, it still being slightly rougher than he'd have anticipated.

"Ow..." he groaned.

"Sorry..."

"It's not you, it's just...the aches. I think it might have not been so bad if I hadn't spent the day bent over a floor trying to scrub a blood stain out of textured tiles..."

"Blood?"

"I don't know, looked like someone cut themselves in one of the bathrooms at the motel...took forever to come out. Ran out of bleach yesterday, gotta order more in."

"Oh," she replied, pushing the edges of the suit down to his waist, "you'll need to work your way out of the rest, Ah need to get to the kitchen," she headed towards the door.

"Wait..." he pleaded, "I need help getting to the bathroom, I can probably manage in there once the hot water hits I'll probably feel a bit better, but there's no way I'm gonna make it alone right at this moment..."

Rogue eyed him up, "better put on a robe or somethin'..."

"Yeah, there's one on the back of the door there," he gestured. "Just...turn your back..." he said after she tossed it over to him. Yeah, turn your back, I don't want you seein' me flaccid and useless, he thought dully. It'd be even more humiliatin' than you seein' me with a hard-on.

It was a struggle, getting out of the bottom half, he managed to get the thing down to his hips, his body having swelled into the tight leather so much that it just wasn't happening. He groaned as he pulled on the robe over his top half, "gonna need help."

"You decent?"

"These days? Always," he responded, feeling bitter about this.

Rogue knelt on the floor to remove the boots, he hadn't even managed to kick those off, it took far too much effort and he didn't have the strength for this. He was absolutely exhausted.

"I feel as weak as the day I got out of my coma," he admitted, "except I didn't ache quite like this then."

"Oh," said Rogue quietly.

He wished he hadn't brought it up, it had been small talk, it was hard looking at a girl who was facing his waist and it wasn't about sex. "Think after dinner I'm gonna head straight to bed, have an early night," he decided. "Maybe watch a little TV and fall asleep..." he watched her peel the leather from his bare legs. He saw the shaking of her hands, her nervousness at being so close to so much bare skin.

She's getting slightly better though, he noted. By now, normally her anxiety levels would be through the roof. So far, she wasn't breathing nearly as fast as she normally was.

"If you could...can you tug the socks off too? Back hurts a little, not sure if I'd get down that far..."

She did as he asked without complaint, holding his calf she let out a little sigh, "Your ankle is a little swollen..."

"Yeah...I banged it on the floor when I was rollin' around...doesn't hurt too bad," he shrugged, watching her gloved hand as she brushed her fingers against the slightly puffy skin. He winced inwardly, it did hurt to be touched. He wasn't about to admit it though when it seemed she was making slight progress with her phobia about touching due to her powers.

"You're probably going to need some pain pills for all this," she said, "you still have that Tylenol?"

"I threw it away," he said quietly.

Her eyes raised up to meet with his, she looked perplexed, she tilted her head, "but...why?"

"Why'd you think, Rogue?" he asked softly, "didn't want you getting into them and hurtin' yourself...couldn't stand the thought of it..."

Her eyes softened, "oh...Ah...uhm..." she was hard put for words. He didn't want her to say anything else, so he held his arm out to her.

"Lets just get me to the bathroom so I can shower...if we take any longer, dinner will be over before I've even gotten to the table..."

Without argument, she held him up towards the nearest bathroom, him walking in very short steps, holding onto his bag of shower gel and shampoo and his new razor which he was sure was going to be confiscated and replaced with the dull electric one he'd been made to use since awakening.

"You sure you'll be okay alone in there?" she asked as she stopped at the door of the men's bathroom.

"I'll manage. You can't exactly come in with me," he reminded, "besides, you need to help with the dinner plates."

She gave a sigh, "joy."

"I'll see you at the table," he assured, and with this, he went into the bathroom intent on showering as carefully as he could without hurting any more of his already pulled and aching muscles.

End of Part Thirty-Seven

More to come soon!