Chapter 10 - Confessions of Vulnerabilities
3 - Injury
The day of their first house party...
"Hey now boys, dere is plenty for everyone." Remy nudged the trio of mewing cats away from their food bowls as he filled each. Shaking his head, he grinned fondly. Those cats acted like he never fed them. Which, obviously, wasn't the case. They just liked the attention.
Course, since Rogue moved into the apartment, the cats had shifted their allegiance and made known their preference for their new favourite human—especially Oliver. Remy didn't blame them, Rogue was his favorite too.
Speaking of his favorite person in the entire universe, Remy wondered what in the world his wife was up to. Though they were expecting a house full of company in the evening, there really wasn't anything more to do at the moment. They had spent the last several days making certain Rogue was completely moved in, the apartment was clean and everything was presentable. It hadn't taken long. He generally kept the public spaces of the apartment tidy and Rogue didn't have many possessions to fill the remaining spaces. According to their list, all they had left to do was finish the food and they didn't need to start cooking until closer to the party. With the afternoon free, Remy had several ideas about how they could while away the hours. Now he just needed to find his wife and see which option she'd prefer.
Remy cocked his head to the side as the vacuum started up again. He'd already vacuumed the entire house earlier that morning and none of his ideas for the afternoon included housework...
Making his way to the living room, Remy found Rogue running the vacuum across the floor in a haphazard manner. Silently, he approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. Rogue squealed in surprise and avoided nearly elbowing him in the gut as she turned, ready to take down her attacker. Remy released her and stepped back, allowing her to regain her bearings. Mentally he chided himself, he knew better than to approach her unawares, especially when she was on edge.
"Remy Etienne LeBeau! What do ya think ya're doin'?" She smacked her fist against his chest. It wasn't hard enough to hurt him, but enough for him to know that she was worried by his reckless actions.
"Désolé, mon coeur. 'm sorry for startlin' you. C'mere." Remy wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against her hair.
"Remy! Stop!" Rogue snapped. With her hand still resting against his chest, she shoved him away. "Don' touch me!"
"Quoi? Pourquoi?" Remy took a half a step back and blinked owlishly at his bride. Confusion furrowed his brow as he couldn't see the problem. She wore the inhibitor collar and a pair of short gloves—doubly protecting the world from her touch. Though, what concerned him more was the fact that she had twice called him by his proper name—including once with the full name treatment—rather than any of the heartfelt endearments or teasing pet names which usually peppered their conversations.
Exhaling sharply, she blew the white fringe out of her eyes as she scrubbed at her face with her hands. At the baffled expression on her husband's face, Rogue relented and briefly explained. "We don' have time for any of that."
"Any o' what?" Remy glanced around the apartment, trying to figure out what he'd missed.
"Any of your funny business, that's what." The irritation was back, creeping through her words and further darkening her expression. "We're hostin' a party tonight, in case ya forgot."
"I know, chère. We been preppin' all week."
Ignoring his response, Rogue turned her back on him. She wedged her fingers between the collar and her skin and yanked at the cumbersome device. "If ya ain't gonna help, fine. But, leave me be, Ah've got work to do."
Before she could switch the vacuum back on, Remy caught her hand and curled his fingers around hers. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in soothing circles. "Talk to me chère, what's de matter?"
"We got a houseful of guests comin' over in a few hours—and just look at the place." She flung her free hand out in a wide, open gesture which encompassed the entirety of the room.
Remy surveyed their apartment, trying to see what she saw. Running his hand along the edge of the nearby end table, his fingers came awy free of dust. The house was spit spot. "I dunno, mon couer. It looks pretty good to me."
She huffed in exasperation, clearly irritated that her husband wasn't seeing things her way. "What about the cat hair? How certain are we that none of our friends are allergic to cats? Ah don't want our guests sneezin' the whole night."
Remy raised an eyebrow. "We've known our friends for longer dan I've had cats. Surely dey would have said somet'in' by now if dey were allergic. I know de cat hair sticks to everyt'in'." He brushed at the strands of white cat hair which clung to his dark sweater.
"It's not the hair, it's the saliva that most people are allergic to...," Rogue rambled. Once more, her fingers found the edge of the collar. A wince flickered across her face as she attempted to adjust where it rested against her throat.
"Roguey, what's dis about? If ya really are determined to clean de whole place again, I'll help, but if it's somet'in' else... Well, I can t'ink of a few better ways to relax." Remy cautiously approached and when she didn't pull away, he wrapped his arms around her. He didn't want to downplay her worries, but he had a suspicion that what was bothering was something other than the cleanliness of the apartment. They both had the bad habit of substituting the real issue bothering them for something else. If he could help her relax, maybe they could get to the heart of the matter.
"Seriously swamp rat, ya got a one track mind." The sting was finally gone from her words. She allowed her husband to manoeuver her towards the couch.
Remy arranged them so he sat behind her. With strong, dexterous fingers, he began to work the knots from her shoulders. As the edge of tension began to drain from her overly taut muscles, Oliver leapt onto her lap. He nuzzled his head against her hand until she complied and bestowed on him the requested scritches.
"You want to talk it?" he asked gently.
"No...yes...maybe... Ah don' know." She sighed heavily and leaned back against him, making it impossible to continue the massage. Though, it did allow him to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her close.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Take your time, mamour."
They sat in companionable silence for several minutes. Remy traced idle patterns along her stomach while Rogue petted the contentedly purring Oliver. When he felt the stiffness in her muscles finally give way to a boneless ease and she all but melted into his embrace, she broke the silence. "This is the first time we're having folks over. It's gotta be perfect."
"Dere our friends..." While Remy had long since given up trying to impress people with how he lived, he knew that wasn't the case for most people. He recalled his père working himself into a similar tizzy when they had company. In those cases, company usually meant business associates and the need to impress or intimidate had been paramount. Course, keeping the LeBeau manor tidy was also a bit of a larger, on-going project.
"Ah know. Ah know." Rogue gave a slight whimper as she turned to look up at him. The sound was so quiet, Remy almost wondered if he was imagining things. "It's just, Ah never really lived on my own before."
He blinked, confused at her statement. She wasn't exactly living on her own now either.
"Ah mean...since runnin' away from home, Ah've pretty much always lived with a group. First the Brotherhood, then the X-Men. There was my stint with the Avengers, and of course, before we married, Ah was back with the X-Men. Even when we were in Valle Soleada, the rest of the team were in and out so often, for a time it didn' feel like we ever left..."
"Okay." Remy frowned as he considered what she was saying. He wasn't certain he understood where she was coming from. Sure, he spent his time with various groups, but even then, he was pretty much a loner. An outsider. His presence was always treated with at least a modicum of distrust. He'd become adept at pretending it didn't bother him, while at the same time he held himself at bay so the inevitable betrayals might hurt less. It never quite worked that way. For the most part, it didn't matter what the group as a whole thought. He only truly cared about what the important people in his life thought of him. There were precious few of those people on his list. And, he was presently living with the most important one.
Still, if this was important to Rogue, then it mattered to him. "Why's what we have different?"
"We're on our own, sugah." She bit her lower lip and frowned. "Ah keep gettin' the feelin' like we got to prove to all of them that we can make this work. There ain't any back up if we fail."
"Désolé mon coeur, mais you're wrong." Remy kissed her temple and began to work his way down her jawline. "We're in dis together. 'm your back up, and you're mine. If anyt'in' goes wrong, we watch each other's backs."
"Ya really mean that swamp rat?" It wasn't as much of a question as a reiteration of a fact.
"I wouldn' say it if it wasn't true. You ain' going t' get rid of me so easily..." He brushed her hair out of the way and pressed his lips to her ear. In a low, sexy murmur, he added, "And I plan t' show you every day."
She laughed. Her face lit up like the sunshine. "Ya're incorrigible swamp rat."
Tilting her head to the side, Rogue exposed as much of her long neck as possible. He grinned and nibbled the edge of her jaw line and along her collar bone.
"And you…." Remy froze mid-sentence as he paused in his nuzzling along her neck. "Roguey?"
"What's wrong Remy?" she pulled away from his touch, her hand automatically going to her throat and the collar.
"Your neck, mon coeur, how long has it been like that?" Under the collar, livid pink lines showed where the edge had rubbed her skin raw. The irritation had created weeping wounds in places.
Wrapping her fingers around the collar, she winced as she brushed the oozing redness. "Not long. Guess it prolly started around the time Ah stared wearing the collar full time. Cause, well, ya know, Ah don't want to be sapping your powers all the time. That ain't good for either of us."
"Why didn't you say anything?" He loosely tangled the fingers of one hand in her hair and kept the other splayed against her stomach to keep from acting on the overwhelming desire to release the catch on the collar. She was right about the inhibitor being the only thing protecting them from her out of control powers.
"What's there to say? It's not like we have any other options." The evident defeat in her voice nearly broke his heart. She swallowed hard and continued to fiddle with the offending device as though now that the subject had been broached, she couldn't leave it be. "Ah hate wearing the collar, sugah. It brings back...It brings back bad memories. Ones Ah'd rather forget. And Ah...Ah feel so weak..."
"Mon coeur, you are not weak," he pulled her onto his lap and held her close. With each point, he pressed a kiss along her hairline and against her silky skin. "You are the strongest person I know. And not just 'cause you have super strength. You fight everyday to keep the sanctity of your mind. You do your best to protect everyone—even if it hurts you. You will sacrifice yourself to save others. You do the right thing even when it's hard. And you put up with moi on a daily basis."
At his last point, Rogue giggled. "Ya ain't hard to put up with swamp rat."
Remy raised an eyebrow in a melodramatic fashion. Truth was, most of the time he felt like a burden. That his dark past made him unlovable. That it was easier for others to abandon him than put up with all his crap. But now wasn't the time to go into that. Even though there had been instances in the past when Rogue had left him, he knew—at least in his head—that was no longer the case. She'd vowed to him. Promised that she would always find her way back to him. There would be no more running away—by either of them. That no matter what happened, she thought he was worth the effort. And, for now, that was enough.
As if sensing the path of his thoughts, Rogue brushed his hair out of his eyes and tilted his face up towards hers. "Ah love ya. Forever and always."
"Bien."
This time, she initiated the kiss. As the embrace grew heated and their hands restless, Remy scooped Rogue up in his arms.
"Put me down!" She kicked her legs in mock protest, though she didn't try to escape.
"Non. We are going to our room and I am going to give you a massage until we've worked all that stress from you."
"Oh really?" Her eyes flashed with a taste of her spirit.
"Oui." He agreed, letting her go once they entered their bedroom. His hands never lost contact with her as they roamed across her sensitive flesh. Her breathing quickened. "You like dat?"
"Yes," she said petulantly, though her actions defied the petulance in her tone. She pressed into the caresses and squirmed in an attempt to maximize contact. Her hands fumbled with the hem of her shirt.
Taking over, he stripped her of her shirt in a few movements. Shortly thereafter, his shirt joined hers on the floor. Remy eased her down on their bed and with skilled fingers he helped her forget the pain of the collar and the weight of her worries. He couldn't bear the burden of her powers or the pain the collar caused both emotionally and physically, but he could help ease burden. He could show her through word and deed how much he loved and cherished her. And how much he appreciated what she was willing to suffer for their sake.
"I love you, mon coeur." He kissed her. In a moment of crystal clarity, he understood. They were two halves of a whole. No matter the earth or timeline or reality, he loved her. He would always love her. She was his home. His heart. His soul. His Beloved. And he would always pursue her.