Slight Return
Part Thirty-Six
Rogue hadn't been able to sleep all night; she'd gone to bed some time after one am, but her too-large hotel room in the suite felt strangely lonely and cold despite the heating being more than adequate and the bed being ridiculously comfortable. Her mind was too active with thoughts and emotional noise. Thoughts were swirling around roughly inside her head like cement in a mixer, it was a meshing into one big ridiculous mess that would not let her rest.
It was almost two am when she heard Wanda coming back to the suite, her laughter throaty, the sound of a bottle clunking against something (presumably the wall) as she walked. There was a man's voice too, she'd brought company back to the hotel.
Through the sliding doors that closed off her room from the main living area of the suite, Rogue could hear their activity, they drank, they laughed, they smoked more pot (Rogue thought it surprising they hadn't set off a smoke detector unless it was being smoked on the balcony outside and merely the smell was coming from the open balcony door).
It was almost three in the morning when she heard the two going at it like rabbits during mating season. Rogue felt utter shame burning her face and making her body grow tense as she listened to Wanda and this stranger she'd picked up screwing so hard it was making the bed next door creak and the headboard bang against the wall with more ferocity than Rogue could have ever predicted even from someone like Wanda.
Aren't those headboards supposed to be nailed down for that reason? Thought Rogue as she pulled the pillow over her head and sighed inwardly. At least Wanda seemed to be enjoying herself, although Rogue couldn't help but feel this act was some kind of retaliation.
It wasn't even four or five hours ago she told me she thought she was into me, and now she's messing with some guy? Rogue wondered if that was the point, if Wanda wanted her to hear. Or did Wanda simply think Rogue might have left for the night, left with Remy...gone back to Bayville. The girl was so fickle it was hard to tell what was going on with her, Rogue supposed she should have even expected this.
Rogue was almost tempted to bang on the wall, tell them to cut it out, that she was tired, that she wanted to sleep and she didn't need the audio book of their version of Fifty Shades of Grey (or whatever other filthy erotica Wanda might have been emulating) blasting from next door.
Instead, she remained embarrassed, attempting to drown it out by holding the pillows over her head and trying to play music in her head. Even the catchy albeit poor quality music of the band she'd seen tonight was better than hearing Wanda's rendition of 'fuck me in the ass' followed by three choruses of 'ride me raw' and the stranger's joining in with a verse of 'yeah, you take that cock, you bitch'.
Rogue tried to take her mind off of what she was hearing. How could people even speak to each other this way? What was arousing about language like that? Although she didn't want to think about it either, she forced her mind to shift to that grief-stricken look on Remy's face at the phone call. Something had upset him...she'd never seen him that upset before. It was jarring.
When he'd said he had to leave, he'd sounded absolutely devastated. He'd looked strangely blank, his voice breaking as he'd tried to speak.
Rogue wished she could call him, to ask if he was all right, if he needed her, if he needed her to do anything for him. Right now she didn't really want to see him, not after the way he'd acted, barging in with his attempts to save her. She'd come to the conclusion she didn't need saving any more. She didn't feel quite close to the edge any more. She had to stop letting people tell her how to fight her battles, had to let them stop stepping in and fighting them for her.
But all the same, as much as right now she knew she should have nothing to do with him, that it would help nothing, she had the vaguest sense of obligation that she should check on him. It'd probably be ill advised.
What if it isn't though, what if he goes, takes a bunch of pills and does somethin' stupid because he's upset? Was he upset enough? What the hell upset him like that? What did that bitch say to him that made him get all weird like that?
Rogue inwardly kicked herself, she was caught between wanting to not care and caring too much. Moving on without him was fine, but she still had a history with him, still owed him some sort of thought. If something happened, she'd still be devastated.
She glanced to her clock, finding it past five am by the time the sex sounds next door had finally ceased. Remy would probably be sleeping next to his girlfriend by now, just as Wanda was probably sleeping next to whatever stranger she'd picked up from whatever bar she'd gone to.
Had she even called her father? Rogue wondered if perhaps she should try to get Magneto's number and check in with him to see if Wanda had. Not that it made much difference, Wanda was nineteen, she was entitled to have sex with a stranger in a hotel room if she wanted. Rogue just hoped the girl was smart enough to use protection...this guy was a stranger after all, he could have any kind of disease.
Rogue thought it almost amusing that she felt strangely protective of Wanda almost right then. Worried that she might catch a disease, or get hurt from picking up the wrong man some day. Worried that this might all just be retaliation, she'd had her feelings stepped on, been rejected, and now, she'd picked up some random person in an attempt to make herself feel better.
That was always Wanda's way...when she needed succour it was always sex she turned to first. Rogue supposed everyone had their coping mechanisms, that was Wanda's. At least the girl wasn't trying to kill herself, at least she'd sounded modestly entertained back in that room (actually modestly was something of an understatement, judging by the screaming). Rogue just hoped this wasn't going to be some kind of downward spiral back to the old things were.
When six am came, Rogue decided she wasn't going to get any sleep even though it had long since quietened down, and she went to the main living area to get herself a drink of soda, at least until she decided on whether she was hungry enough to call in room service. Her appetite had gone straight out of the window the moment Remy had turned up last night, she wasn't sure it'd make a reappearance today but she was afraid if she didn't eat, she'd feel sick from last night.
There was a little mess in the wake of Wanda and the stranger's partying; an empty bottle of booze and two glasses; some of the throw pillows were on the floor, and some of Wanda's clothes. Rogue spied a condom wrapper on the floor and realised the sex had started in there. The thought repulsed her enough she didn't feel comfortable sitting on any of the furniture and so simply stood by the window drinking an orange juice she'd found in the mini bar.
"You're still here..."
Rogue turned to see Wanda standing in her underwear, looking sleepy and strangely confused. "Yeah...Ah'm still...here," Rogue raised an eyebrow, "right where you left me."
"Christ, I thought you'd gone last night, taken off back to Bayville..." Wanda rubbed her head as she moved over to the mini bar, "I'm parched..."
"Yeah, Ah bet," Rogue leaned against the wall by the window, staring out. The rain had stopped some hours ago and the sun had risen, there was a promise of a beautiful day out.
Wanda paused, "oh...I...guess...you uhm..."
"Heard you and some guy screamin' scenarios out of a bad porno movie?" Rogue asked, "yeah...Ah heard."
"Sorry..." Wanda mumbled.
"What do you have to be sorry for?"
"I was drunk, okay?" Wanda rolled her eyes, "still kind of am..."
"Look...what you do in the bedroom is your business..." Rogue stated quietly, "Ah don't want to hear it, or hear details or anything but...you can do what you like."
"You're not like...uhm...mad or...anything?" Wanda asked, she made a face, "'cause...you said no to me, so I thought you wouldn't care-"
"No, Ah'm not mad," Rogue responded, "confused maybe...you said you were-"
"I am," Wanda reiterated, "I wasn't just giving you a line. I am...but...I didn't say I was completely that way...there's a lot of different things, you know? It's not just...one thing..." Wanda reminded.
"Ah see," Rogue nodded, trying to be mature about the conversation which still left her on edge. Wanda's sudden revelation about bisexuality shouldn't have been as confusing right now as it was.
"Last night was just a fling, that's all...I figured you and Remy would...you know...get together and probably go back to Bayville or whatever. I don't know. You didn't want to fuck so...I needed...a pick me up."
Rogue folded her arms, the bottle of orange juice dangling from her bare fingers, "While we're on the subject, what the hell were you thinkin' callin' Remy down here?"
"Did he...not come?" Wanda asked, looking intrigued.
"Oh, he came," Rogue snorted, "to try and save my ass. But Ah didn't need savin'...did Ah?"
"Is he here?" Wanda looked around the room almost as if she'd expected he might have spent the night, as if he may be there. She leaned a little to stare into Rogue's room to check.
"He didn't stay. He walked out, he had to go back to Bayville. And what were you playin' at callin' him here anyway?"
Wanda rubbed her head, "lower your voice...I have a fuckin' killer of a headache comin' on right now..."
"Wanda, he has a girlfriend!"
"Didn't stop him from runnin' all the way out here though," Wanda stated calmly, she grabbed a can of coke from the fridge and popped it open, taking in big gulps.
"Not the point," Rogue sighed.
"He was already on his way here, you know...that was what he said, he wasn't far. He was already here I called him last night. You think that's coincidence?"
"He came to stop you from hurtin' me."
Wanda gave a vague laugh, "yeah...I...should have figured that'd happen," she rubbed her forehead, "I half expected him to have made it here long before he did...I guess he's slippin' a little. Although to be fair, he doesn't have any wheels of his own."
Rogue sighed, "you can't go interfering in his life any more. Just leave him alone from now on. Ah'm gonna too."
"Sorry, I just...I thought it would work," Wanda responded simply, shrugging as casually as if she'd tried to fix a broken toy with a new battery and it hadn't succeeded in making the thing run again.
Rogue sighed, "it won't...you know...change anything," she pointed out. Was that what Wanda had hoped for, that perhaps Remy wouldn't accept her and the grief would be too much? That she'd give up and turn to Wanda after? Rogue wondered if she was just too much of a suspicious person to completely trust anyone these days.
Wanda looked at her strangely, her intense blue eyes were a little lazy and dull this morning, "I didn't expect it would," she commented.
"Then...why?" Rogue asked. "Why would you set him up like that when you know he has a girlfriend."
"He doesn't love that girl," Wanda snorted.
"Could have fooled me."
"If he loved her, would he have already been on the road to come here to save you? Would he have actually freaked out on the phone when I lied and told him you had overdosed on booze and pills on the floor?"
"You shouldn't have told him that, Wanda-"
"I had to get him here," Wanda shrugged unapologetically.
"You just shouldn't have..." Rogue shook her head, "He's still shook up since the last time...Ah took an overdose in March...he was the one who found me. Jesus, he must have been freakin'."
"If he was, then at least it shows he still has feelings," Wanda responded.
"It was cruel and insensitive. You can't do that to Remy, you already fucked up his life enough as it is," Rogue reminded, getting frustrated with the conversation.
both guilty of that, don't pin it all on me, sweetness."
"Wanda..." Rogue warned.
"Listen, I don't want to seem insensitive again, but...I have a wicked hangover startin', I drank way too much last night when I left the room and right now, I'm beat. I really don't want to talk this over right now, it's hard to think straight. I'm gonna go kick that forty year old punk out of my bed so I can get to sleep for a while before I need to puke."
Rogue made a face, "Forty?"
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" Wanda asked, "He looks thirty-five if it's any consolation."
"No...it's...really not," Rogue turned towards her room, "you have problems, do you even know that?"
"Never said I didn't," Wanda called after her, "never said I didn't."
For the first time ever since sharing a bed together, Remy LeBeau and Rowan Renz did not have sex. It was already six in the morning by the time they'd both realised they were exhausted, that they had talked things through and that Rowan was willing to let his one mistake slide. After that, they had went to the bedroom together, undressed and slipped beneath the covers. But no advances were made.
They might have said they loved each other, but the tension was still lingering heavy in the air like a thick dark rain cloud threatening to burst. They did not lay close to each other but rather away, near the edge of each side of the bed, facing away from each other.
Remy lay looking towards the window; his side of the bed faced the window and through the blinds he could see slithers of early afternoon sun. He'd lay there for hours next to Rowan as she slept, trying to make sense out of life and all that was going on.
Nothing else had been said about Rose Knightly's passing since he'd returned home. He had questions but he supposed now wasn't the time to ask them, things were still rocky between himself and Rowan as it was, he didn't need to bring up death.
His mind was burning of thoughts of Rose and Rogue and very little of Rowan. He thought of what had happened in Heartkey, the way she had looked at him so blankly as he'd fell through the door to save her. He thought it laughable he'd gone to try to save Rogue when he was barely even capable of saving himself.
Rogue must have thought it quite laughable too after he'd left. She must have been rolling around the floor with laughter at how pathetic he'd seemed turning up to save her and she'd been fine. He was sure Rogue and Wanda were probably laughing about it over coffee. Rogue was probably sitting there right now relaying the entire speech about how she'd kicked the habit of him and she didn't need him, didn't want him and didn't want his rushing in like a white knight to save her any more. Right now, Remy could imagine Wanda was probably very amused by this prank she had pulled, this prank that had absolutely humiliated him and kept him from where he'd really needed to be. She would have probably been delighted to her entire plot had prevented him from saying goodbye to his pretend Grandmother. It'd have been hilarious enough to have tears of joy spilling down the girl's face.
He hadn't found it funny in the least though. The day Rogue had tried to commit suicide by swallowing handfuls of pills in the hospital room still was fresh in his memories even months later. The memory was still so vivid he could almost smell Rogue's vomit, could remember how heavy and limp she had felt as he'd tried to awaken her. It had been cruel for Wanda to come up with a story like that, insensitive and mean. He wasn't so sure Rogue was right when she'd said that Wanda had changed, Remy was sure the dark haired beauty still had a rather wicked streak and that her intentions were very unlikely to be genuine.
Remy pulled himself up from the bed and wandered through the apartment naked; he had no clean clothes, no clean underwear, and his clothes from last night were sitting in a laundry basket in the bedroom. He supposed he couldn't do much right now but wander around naked like some exhibitionist, some nudist.
It felt wrong to be walking around there like that with thoughts of Rose's death and Rogue's birthday whirling through his troubled mind. It seemed positively perverted and inappropriate. He longed for the days when inappropriateness and perversion had been enjoyable...not dark thoughts lurking around his troubled mind.
He felt too restless to settle and try and watch television, although he tried. He just couldn't focus on anything on the television right now. To keep himself busy he cleaned the apartment despite it was spotless from when he'd cleaned it yesterday; it gave him something to do, something to drag his thoughts away from his misery. He scrubbed at the stove that didn't need scrubbing, he sorted through food cabinets and wiped through them when they'd been perfectly fine before. In fact, throughout the thorough clean he gave the place, the only dust he located was on top of a tall bookcase.
It was almost three pm when Rowan finally awoke and sauntered into the living room, wearing her blue satin robe with the gold embroidery on it. The robe hung open, revealing her soft naked body to him. He wished he could have found it arousing, wished he could have wanted her then and there. It'd have been a welcome distraction and comfort.
The lust just wasn't there any more than the dust or dirt in the apartment was. His mind was as clean of passion as the apartment was of any mess. It wasn't just his grief and misery that kept him from wanting Rowan, it was the absolute deficiency of any passion whatsoever. There was absolutely nothing there.
"You couldn't sleep?" Rowan asked with a yawn, running her fingers through her soft red curls.
"Just restless," he supposed.
Rowan looked him up and down; he'd found an apron in a closet and had decided to wear it to stop himself getting splattered with the bleach he'd been using in the kitchen. "That's...attractive," she said.
"Isn't it?" he forced a smirk, but it fell immediately, he sighed. It was impossible to find any real reason to smile, no joking or pretending could paint over and hide his sorrow today.
"You okay?" Rowan asked, she moved over to where the coffee pot was. It was second pot he'd made since he'd got out of bed, he'd finished the contents of the first and half the contents of the current one.
"Just...you know...upset, 'bout Rose."
"Me too," Rowan sighed, "she was a lovely lady."
"She was," Remy agreed.
"But...you know, maybe it was better this way, I mean...she'd have gotten worse...she would have eventually lost her mind...she'd already lost most of it."
"I know," Remy said quietly.
"It was only a matter of time before she'd start losing the capacity to feed herself...to speak..." Rowan reminded.
"I know that..." Remy responded, feeling reluctant to believe it. But Rowan was right, perhaps it was better that the woman didn't have to suffer any more. He wasn't sure who it was better for though, Rose for not having to suffer, or for him, not having to watch her suffer. The thought made him guilty that he could think that. Did everyone go through thoughts like this? Trying to make themselves feel better about the deaths of relatives by trying to justify it with a positive note that probably benefited them more than the person who'd passed?
He hated thinking these things, hated the whole thing. He didn't know how to deal with death, didn't quite know how to cope with what was happening. He didn't even really understand what would happen to Rose now.
"What's...gonna happen to her?" Remy asked, reluctant to bring it up, feeling it was strangely inappropriate and taboo to talk about Rose while she was dead, to bring up the mention of the lifeless shell she had left behind her.
"What do you mean?" Rowan asked softly, she brushed her hand against his bare arm before moving aside to grab a cup from the cabinet to pour herself some coffee.
"You know...what happens to her..." he gave her a strange look, "Her...body," he whispered uneasily.
"Oh," said Rowan, "well...the state technically owns her so...you know, they own her body too..."
"So...?" Remy asked, he dreaded to know.
"Depending on who's dealing with her death, they might cremate her..."
"Cremated," he winced, "that's it? Just like that? No special service, no...burial..."
"She didn't have a penny to her name, Remy. Who's gonna pay for a funeral? I can't...you sure as hell can't either."
Remy momentarily thought he could...if he could get access to some of the funds from those bank accounts under various aliases. But he had lost all the details to those accounts when he'd been mugged, the credit cards were long gone and for all he knew the funds were gone too. Remy had forfeited the idea of chasing up those cards, he'd been happy enough to get his Harley back (even if it did smell somewhat of urine now and was in bits).
Something told him that even if he'd had the illegal funds to bury Rose, she'd have been unimpressed with how the money had been made to do so. But still, to let her be cremated, no special care, it seemed so...disrespectful.
"Wait, you said depending," Remy paused, "what do you mean depending, what's the alternative?"
Rowan's face was a mask of professionalism suddenly, "well..." she looked away, almost guiltily for just a brief moment before she turned back to look him in the eye, "if her body is in good condition, they might you know..." she trailed off.
"No...I don't know..."
"Donate her..."
"Donate her..." Remy repeated, not sure what that really meant. Donate her? He didn't understand the concept. Donate her where? To the museum of modern art?
"To science," Rowan said carefully.
"Huh?"
"You know...to medicine...so they can..."
Remy snapped, suddenly, eyes wide, horrified, "what?! Dissect her?!" he demanded.
"Remy..."
"No!" he said furiously, "No! Absolutely fucking not, they are not doing that to her! They are not putting her on a fucking slab for medical students to sit and poke at her with sharp knives and cut her up like she's some kind of experiment!"
"Remy...it's out of our hands..." Rowan said, "I'm sorry but...we have no rights to stop them from doing that if that's what they decide..."
"If...if I could get some seed money, I could probably win a couple of grand at a poker game..." Remy reasoned, "I'm good at poker..."
"You are?" Rowan asked, gazing up at him.
"Nearly unbeatable..." he confessed, "I've been flung out of casinos before because of it...I could win...pay for a funeral..."
Rowan looked at him, "Remy, it's not your place to put the money up. Besides...even if you could find a poker game with that kind of money...where are you gonna get seed money?"
"Just a couple hundred would do it, Rowan," he said desperately.
"I don't have that kind of money," Rowan shook her head, "Sorry, Remy. It's sad but...she's not your relative, not mine. We can't help. It's depressing but...we have to just accept it."
"Accept it?" he asked, "You would see her go into some fucking medical lab and let them cut her up?"
"It's not pleasant, Remy," Rowan folded her arms, "I liked Rose too, Remy, just as much as you did."
"No, if you did you wouldn't want her being put in a furnace," Remy said coldly.
"I don't want her to be put into a furnace; I'd like to see her buried properly somewhere beside her family but my hands are tied."
Remy understood, but at the same time, felt like there was more that could be done. It couldn't be left like this, surely Rose couldn't just become another statistic.
"I'm gonna go get dressed," Rowan took a sip of her coffee, "you should probably do the same."
"With what?" he asked, still jarred about the conversation about Rose.
"Where's your stuff?" Rowan stood by the counter, holding her cup.
"Uhm..." he tried to remember, he rubbed his head, trying to think, "...it's...in my friends van..."
"You're kidding," Rowan groaned.
"You threw me out, I grabbed it on the way out last night," he reminded.
Rowan tilted her head almost suspiciously, "is this friend a woman?" she dared to ask.
"His name is Piotr," Remy said flatly. "And he's definitely a guy."
"What kind of name is that?" Rowan blinked.
"Russian," Remy responded.
"When am I going to meet this friend?" Rowan asked. It was unnerving how so very easily she could push aside the conversation about Rose. It almost hurt.
She's probably used to this happenin, Remy thought. Probably seen a hundred deaths since she's worked there. Maybe more. Rose is just a number to her too...it ain't her fault, it's how she was trained.
"Not sure," Remy said, trying to push away his irritation. Right now he doubted Piotr wanted to meet Rowan considering she had been the Yoko Ono that had driven Remy from the X-Men and into a life of normality. "He lives in Heartkey, pretty far, so...probably won't be any time soon...it's too much of a distance to come down for a flying visit, really."
"So? Invite him down at the weekend, he can stay over if he likes, sleep on the couch," she offered.
Remy laughed darkly at the thought of the large Russian trying to sleep on Rowan's two-seater couch. "He's tall, he probably wouldn't fit."
"Tall?"
"Like seven feet maybe," Remy responded. "So...yeah, sleeping on the couch wouldn't work."
Rowan shrugged, "I just thought it'd be nice to meet some of your friends."
Remy hated himself for wondering if she only wanted to meet Piotr so she could learn things that he himself hadn't divulged. There was so much Rowan didn't know about him, things he wasn't willing to share with her. Was she determined to get it out of someone else? Try to determine if there were other women in his life?
No, it was a bad idea to invite Piotr to this apartment. Besides, Piotr wasn't likely going to want to lie. Piotr was too straight-laced for that. Remy thought about last night...why hadn't Piotr acted more appropriately regarding the news about Rogue? Why hadn't he tried to run up there to help her? To check that she was all right? It seemed rather cold of him, it wasn't like Piotr at all...
"The only friend of yours I've met is that Rogue girl," Rowan brought up, there was a hint of bitterness in her voice.
"Rogue is..." Remy felt nervous about the girl even being mentioned. He'd thought early that morning Rowan had accepted that there was nothing between himself and Rogue. Was she going to bring it up again? "Piotr's girlfriend," he spoke up, suddenly realising it was true. Yes, that would make everything all right, to admit the truth for once.
"She is?" Rowan turned to stare at him, "I can't see that skinny teenager next to a seven foot Russian somehow..." she blinked.
"Yeah...they're together..." Remy leaned against the counter, feeling strangely bitter about admitting it. "And...he most likely wouldn't come down here if Rogue wasn't coming too," he added.
"I don't want her here," Rowan blurted, she looked hurt, "Look, I get it, this...girl...she's your friend, but you yelled her name out when you were with me...and that's hard enough to deal with. I don't want her in my home."
"Okay," Remy nodded weakly.
"In fact..." Rowan looked conflicted momentarily and then said, "I...don't want you really hanging with her at all, not even to say hi. If you have her number in your phone, I want it gone..."
Remy stared down at his girlfriend, perhaps it was a little possessive of her, but considering what he'd done it wasn't completely unreasonable. If he agreed at least she was likely to leave the subject alone for now. "All right. If that's what you want," he agreed, stomach quivering with nerves at the thought of cutting Rogue completely out of his life even if he'd already moved on.
Rowan took another sip of the coffee she'd poured then put the cup down, "okay, well, I guess I better go get dressed and take your clothes from last night to the laundry room and get them clean and dry...since you don't have anything else."
"Yeah, otherwise I'll be naked all day," Remy supposed.
"Not a bad thing," she looked at him with a slight smirk.
Remy might have been amused if he weren't so heartbroken over Rose's death, and so frustrated with Rogue's dismissal of his going to save her last night. He decided – in the effort of trying to be more honest – to be truthful with Rowan. "I'm...really not in the mood, you know...for anythin' like that today..." he admitted.
Rowan seemed vaguely surprised, she recomposed herself, "sorry, I was just teasing," she leaned up to peck his lips, "before I forget..." she moved quickly over to where she normally hung her bag and she took it down and dug through it before taking out an envelope. "Here..."
"It's not my birthday, is it?" he looked at her as she held it out towards him.
Rowan raised an eyebrow, "I...don't know...is it?"
Fair point, Remy realised he'd never told her exactly when his birthday was. He hadn't even been honest enough to tell her where exactly in Louisana he'd grown up, or how he'd grown up. There were so many things he had yet to tell her, things he wasn't sure he even wanted to. He supposed if they were going to share a life together he was going to have to start being honest and sharing eventually. It just seemed like now was far too soon. He wasn't ready.
Remy accepted the envelope; there was something hard inside, boxy, the shape showing through the paper, the way it buckled as he held it remind him of a small tobacco tin.
"What is this?" he asked as he looked down at her questioningly.
"I don't know, Rose has had it in her room for a while..." Rowan shrugged, "she said it was for you...she kept asking when you'd come so she could give you it. I had to go back to work after being at the hospital with her to fill out paper work, I grabbed it from her room before the vultures went into take her stuff out for the next resident."
"Oh," was all he could manage. Yes, that sounded about right from what Rowan had told him. Rose's body hadn't even cooled and already they'd be planning to fill her spot with some other poor wretch who had no family and no money. Another statistic.
"I'll go get dressed," Rowan kissed his cheek before she took off towards the bedroom.
Waiting until she'd left the room, Remy sat down slowly and he tore the end off the envelope and tipped it open, it was indeed a small metal tin; an ancient brand of hard candy had once been inside, a painted little girl was smiling, holding a teddy-bear. Remy couldn't tell what connection teddy-bears or children had to the candy, but it didn't seem to matter. Remy flipped the top of the box up slowly, there was cotton wool inside, but something slightly stuck out beneath it.
A pair of old gold rings. One scratched up gold band that had seen better days, and a square set ring, minute diamonds with a single cloudy emerald set in the centre. Both rings were ancient, slightly dirty and dull. The engagement ring style he would have put as old as the late eighteen-hundreds...perhaps even older.
These were Rose's rings, her wedding ring and her engagement ring. Probably the only jewellery she'd had left, the only items of worth she'd probably still owned. Something she'd probably hidden to ensure that no one could ever steal them.
And she'd wanted him to have them?
Remy thought about this. No. Not him...Dillon. She'd wanted to pass them on to the grandson she hadn't even remembered was dead. She'd wanted this to be her legacy to him. Rose must have imagined Dillon accepting those rings from her as he'd made promises to use them for the right reasons, must have had it all planned out what she'd say, how she wanted him to give them to the woman he'd marry, and how they would pass onto his children, and his children's children. He stared down at the rings, dull and lack lustre, in need of polish and love.
Remy hadn't expected himself to suddenly start welling up with emotion. It started as a lump in his throat, his vision blurred as he rolled the rings around between his fingers, examining them. In his mind's eye he saw Rose on her wedding day in that photograph on her dresser. The thought made him hurt in ways he couldn't describe.
The entire thing left him feeling as if he'd been punched in the gut, this gift, this legacy, spoke of so many unfulfilled things. Like the life Dillon had never lived, the wedding that he'd never had that Rose never lived to see. Remy almost wished for one brief moment that he'd been able to have a wedding just so that the woman could have been there, might have died happy.
Instead of dying wondering where he was and why he wasn't at her side.
Remy heard Rowan returning from the bedroom, he quickly hid the rings in the front pocket of the ridiculous pink apron he was wearing; right now he didn't want to share this with Rowan. Didn't want her seeing it these, it was too personal somehow.
Remy glanced inside the tin, he hadn't noticed at first but under the layer of cotton was also a locket. It was silver, probably a good sixty years old, almost black with tarnish, a single tiny diamond glimmering on the front. As he picked it out of the tin, the thing fell apart, the hinges were broken. The picture of Rose in her wedding veil stood out at him, fuzzy and small, the picture of her husband was so distorted and faded it was impossible to see what he had looked like. Remy couldn't even clearly remember what he had looked like in the wedding photo. Only Rose's youthful beauty had stood out.
"What did she leave you?" Rowan asked casually.
"A locket," Remy said, Rowan reached out and took it from him to examine it closer.
"Looks like silver," said Rowan, she wiped at it a little with her thumb.
"It is," Remy said, "it's circa fifties," he said, sniffing a little of his emotion back.
"How...do you know that?" Rowan looked at him questioningly.
"I just know," he sighed, "Hallmark, the settin'..."
Rowan looked at the front of the broken locket, "is that a diamond?"
"Yeah," Remy replied.
"Is it worth anything?" she asked.
"Only memories, I guess," Remy responded, "it's broken...the diamond is pretty flawed...silver is pretty scratched up. Chain ain't the original one."
"You see all that? Since when do you know about antiques?"
Remy stood up and took the necklace from her, shoving it back into the box it had come in, "I watch Antique's Roadshow," he muttered, "listen, I'm gonna go back to bed," he sighed, "I feel real drained right now."
"Okay, love," Rowan murmured, she stood on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. Remy returned it briefly and then turned to leave the living room, sliding into the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. After hiding the rings (being careful to be quiet about it), he removed his apron and he slipped beneath the covers and despite the stifling heat of the afternoon, pulled them over his head. Right now, all he wanted to do was blot out everything. Soon, despite his unhappiness, he was falling into a dark, dreamless sleep.
End of Part 36
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh. I wasn't going to upload, but of course, A few people seemed to still not understand the whole Wanda didn't actually know that Remy was on his way thing. She didn't know he would be, she admits she should have expected it though). Sure there's going to be a few more opinions here. I'm sure there'll be a few nitpicks about the way the Rose death thing is being handled, what would happen to her body, etc (All I can say is I asked around, a lot of people told me it was most likely cremated without a service or donated to science if she had no family and no money for a funeral).
Thanks for all the reviews and support regarding the story, I know some isn't always positive, I read every one of them though, I try not to take stuff to heart but sometimes I do get frustrated as I always try to do my best to put out a good story. I won't always pull off a good story, but I always try. And always will be trying.
At this point, I'm going to announce that I actually finished writing "Slight Return" weeks ago, I'm not going to give away the ending or anything else, but I will confirm that it will end at part 49 (I know, weird number, right?). There'll be regular updates (I'm not going to spam it all at once as there's a bit of editing and tidying of it to do still), but just so you know, there is an end, it's written and it will come eventually.
Meanwhile, I'm going to be working on "I, Assassin" for a bit to give the Remy and Rogue angst a bit of a breather; I know people are asking for "Trouble in St. Tropez" (the sequel to "Derranged Marriage"), but as a few of you are getting frustrated with so much angst in my fics right now, I thought I'd hold off for a bit longer, as the subjects in it are still quite dark and angsty (not that "I, Assassin" is any better, I suppose. I can't win either way). I may also take a much needed break from writing for a few months as it causes havoc with my severe neck and back pain to sit and write at the laptop/computer. Anyway I'm rambling as I'm tired and sore, I'm off to watch some Lars von Trier and try to settle. Hope you all enjoy this chapter and that I won't be criticised too much for the inaccuracies about the death situation, etc. This is fiction, hopefully it can be overlooked.
Love you all