Chapter 4

Nightmare

It was warm and humid, the spices that clung to the air made him realize where he was. New Orleans. The Big Easy. Home.

Remy smiled at Bella, though it wasn't as sincere as it should have been. But, he had made his peace. He and Bella were childhood friends, though they had drifted apart as they got older, and there were worse women he could be forced to get engaged to. They had just finished signing the engagement contract that would ensure peace between the Guilds when Julien snarled at him.

"No sister of mine oughta marry a no good t'ief!" he fumed.

Everyone ignored him. Julien had been quite vocal about his displeasure of the union, but he hadn't tried anything, so everyone assumed he wasn't a serious threat.

They were wrong.

The scene shifted to the fight outside of the swamp where Julien had ambushed him. Gambit had defended himself, blocking Julien's attacks easily and sending a well-placed hit of his own that left Julien gasping for breath. When the son of the head of the Assassin's Guild was sprawled on the ground, Gambit decided things had gone far enough, and turned to leave.

That was his mistake, as Julien, with the strength of the desperate, went after him fast as lightning. Gambit only had a second to register the flash of the blade against the moonlight before instinct took over. He charged what was closest to him. He didn't realize it was Julien's arm until the man fell on top of him, lifeless.

It wasn't the first time he had seen a dead body. There was blood all around him, bodies of people who had trusted him. He had thought the doctor would help them. But, that monster had taken what he needed and then slaughtered them, as Remy lay strapped to a table, helpless to stop it. Those mutants Gambit thought he was helping, the ones he had naively directed to Dr. Essex now lay dying at his feet.

There was too much blood. Rivers of it. He couldn't save them. And, those stupid machines beeping as it took his vitals.

Sinister's crimson eyes glowed with delight as he watched his experiments, his mouth curving into a sickening smile that displayed his sharp teeth.

"And, now for our final experiment," Sinister said with glee, and wheeled in a hospital clad figure strapped down to another table.

Gambit's breath stopped in his throat as he recognized white-striped hair and fearful green eyes.

"Remy, what's going on?" Rogue asked, her voice pleading.

Gambit struggled against his restraints, trying to charge something, anything, all to no avail.

Sinister examined Rogue as if she were a very interesting equation.

"Remy?" her voice shook as she looked to him for some explanation. He couldn't say anything. "Why did you bring me here? I trusted you!" her voice accused as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Gambit could only watch, paralyzed as Sinister injected the needle into her arm.

"No!" Gambit screamed so loudly his throat went raw. Remy looked around his surroundings, trying to catch his breath. It took him several long moments before he realized he was in his own apartment. There was no blood, no bodies, and no Sinister. However, the eerie magenta glow surrounding him and the heat that seared into his skin was very real, and he managed to reabsorb the charge from his blanket back into himself a second before it would have exploded.

He took one shaky breath, two, three, four. Not real. Not real. He told himself. He ran shaking hands through his hair, pulling on the strands so hard he nearly ripped them from his scalp.

"To Hell wit' dis," he muttered darkly to himself and flung the covers back from his sweat-soaked body.

He didn't even think about it really; it just seemed logical to get on his bike and drive. He knew where he'd end up. It was routine by this point.

Still, he didn't relax until he saw her again. He didn't even realize how much of a relief it would be until he heard her steady breaths and a heavy weight lifted from his heart.

He crept toward her and settled against the edge of the bed. It was like a bucket of cold water when she moved away from him.

Of course, she would move away. He was unworthy of her. She should be disgusted by him. It was all he deserved anyway, but the sting of it was harsher than he had anticipated, causing him to stumble.

He felt as if he had been cast into the sea without a means of making it to shore. He expected her rejection, deserved it, but still somehow wasn't ready for it.

Therefore, her soft, drawling voice half-muffled with sleep surprised him, "Come on, sugah."

The invitation, so sincere and careless, left him too stunned to do anything but stare at her. As intelligent as he was, it took him a good few seconds before he realized that she had not moved away from him, but had moved to allow him room to be beside her. She was not disgusted with him. She didn't hate him. She wanted him in her life.

He really didn't deserve her.

It didn't stop him from sliding in beside her, though. He pulled her close to him. As the nightmare replayed in his mind, his hands began to shake, and he twisted a fistful of blankets to try to make them stop. Fear once again overwhelmed him, and he couldn't remember how to breathe.

Rogue turned to face him as best she could with his grip as tight on her as it was.

"Hey," she said softly. Her eyes were alight with concern, and instinctually she reached her hands up to touch his face. They stopped a centimeter from his cheeks. She wasn't wearing gloves.

Remy, however, didn't hesitate as he grabbed both her hands and held them tightly. He did have gloves on, as if his subconscious had told him he would need her touch and was prepared for it.

His thumbs continued to rub circles along her knuckles, his eyes closed to savor the sensation. His breathing came in unsteady gasps. Rogue's hands were the only things anchoring him to the world.

"Swamp Rat, what is it? What's wrong?" Rogue asked in an urgent whisper.

He shook his head.

"Remy, look at me, please," she asked. Her soft plea along with the use of his given name was enough to make him drag his eyes open.

The affection and care he witnessed in her eyes stole his breath completely.

"Do you hate me, chéré?" the words were broken and unexpected.

Rogue was so stunned; she was rendered speechless for a moment. Then, she found her voice, and though it was still hushed to prevent waking Kitty, it was adamant. "What put a stupid idea like that into your head? Of course, I don't hate ya. You annoy the Hell outta me, but I could never hate ya."

"You should hate me," he insisted.

"Why?" she asked simply.

When his eyes became tortured, she asked quietly, "Do ya want me to find out?"

It was tempting, to let her absorb him, to let her see why he was so unworthy of her, to get her to turn away from him in disgust and throw him out, just to be done with it.

But, he hated the thought too. As long as his past remained hidden from her, he could be allowed to stay at her side, to receive comfort from her and draw strength from her. She would still be his friend if she didn't know the atrocities he had committed.

"It's ok if you don't want to," she reassured him.

He selfishly wanted to take the out she had offered him, and was almost close to agreeing. But, no. After all she had done for him, she deserved the truth. It was unfair to keep the worst parts of himself from her if he expected her to make a fair judgment of him.

He slowly nodded his head and released one of her hands so she could touch him.

Instead of brushing her hand against his cheek as he expected, she sidled up close to him and gently, swiftly pressed her lips against his. And, for the moment before he lost consciousness, he really enjoyed the kiss.

Rogue blinked as the onslaught of Remy's memories assaulted her mind. She took a moment to take control over them, and then carefully began to examine them.

The nightmare was the most recent, and she gasped at what she saw. Tears stung at the corner of her eyes as she experienced his fear and guilt, his self-loathing and finally his absolute horror and desolation as he was forced to inflict her death.

She pulled herself out of his memories and looked down at his unconscious form. She had been touched when she had awoken from her injuries at the power plant and found the evidence that Gambit had visited her in the Med Bay. Now, she realized the sacrifice it had taken him to even enter that room.

"Oh, Remy," she murmured. She pushed a lock of hair that grazed his forehead back, careful not to graze his skin with her own.

She took a deep breath and went back into his psyche. She hadn't absorbed him long enough to look at his whole life, but she did see his recent thoughts and memories. She was surprised how often she appeared in them. Almost as often as he appeared in her own thoughts.

Her smile, the twinkle in her eyes. Something she said that made him laugh. His feelings for her, though still undefined, were definitely present. His concern for her well being shined through.

It was why her opinion of him mattered so much, why he was being tortured by his worst deeds and how she would view them. He was a man completely at her mercy.

Rogue sighed as she let the last of his memories fade away and then looked back over at Gambit. A small smile played at her lips even if her eyes were doused with concern.

She snuggled close to him and wrapped her arms around him. He hadn't taken off his signature trench coat, so she didn't have to worry about her bare arms causing more problems.

Even though she was exhausted, she refused to let herself fall asleep, instead carefully watching the Cajun to make sure he didn't suffer any adverse effects from the use of her powers.

It took him a full half hour before he groaned and his eyelids fluttered open. There was the expected moment of disorientation, but he got his bearings quickly. The fact that Rogue had her arms wrapped around him with no intention of removing them surprised him more than anything else. At the very least, he had expected her to drop him to the floor or even call Logan in to throw him outside.

It was kindness, maybe even pity that kept her there. He couldn't bare to look at her as she pronounced her judgment.

"Did you see?" he finally forced himself to ask, his voice only breaking at the very end.

"Yes."

"Have you changed your mind about me, then?" he asked.

"No."

His eyes moved toward her of their own accord.

She propped her head up on her hand and met his gaze steadily. Once she was sure he wouldn't dart away, she said firmly, "Listen here, Cajun. What happened with Julien was an accident. He came at you, and you had no choice but to defend yourself. Don't forget. I've been in his head, and I know how he thought. He was looking for blood. I know you didn't mean to kill him."

Gambit took a deep breath and was going to say something, but Rogue shook her head firmly, silencing the protest on his lips. "And, as for what happened with Sinister, that wasn't your fault, Remy. You were a victim like everybody else."

It was a balm he didn't know he needed. Logically, he knew that it wasn't his fault, that there was no more he could've done, but his heart and conscience still plagued him at times. And while the guilt wasn't completely gone, probably never would be, having Rogue's assurances and forgiveness lessened the weight of it.

"And, I'm still here, Remy," she whispered, "You haven't hurt me or betrayed me, and I know that you won't. Ok, Swamp Rat?"

Mon Dieu, he really didn't deserve her.

"Ok," he agreed. Her smile was warm and sweet, and though his nightmare and the reasons behind it would still be there, he felt inexplicably safe with that one gesture.

"Then, everything's alright?" she asked gently.

No, everything wasn't alright, but it was better, and he knew what she meant.

"Everything's alright as long as you're in the world, chéré," he said.

He was pleased to see her blush even as she swatted at his arm. "That's cheesy," she mumbled with a smile, hiding her face in his chest.

He checked the response on his tongue about it being true, and just chuckled instead and pulled her close.

He inhaled her scent, letting the familiarity of it calm him. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she sighed at the contact.

"Hey, Swamp Rat?" she asked after a minute.

"Hmm?"

"Can we go to sleep now? I'm beat," she said.

His chuckle reverberated inside his chest and sent pleasant tingles to her body.

"Anyt'ing for a belle femme," he responded.

There was a peaceful silence, and then Gambit breathed, "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," she replied just as quietly.

She was almost asleep again by the time he spoke again, "Hey, chéré?"

"Hmmm?" the noise was annoyed.

"Any time ya wan' t' kiss me again is fine by me."

"In your dreams, Swamp Rat!" she exclaimed before sleep claimed her.

"Qui," he agreed softly with a smile, "in my dreams."