Disclaimer: Marvel owns all. (I've just invited them over to my house to play. )
A/N: As always, thank you to everyone who took the time to review! Getting this chapter out early is because of all your kinds words.
Chapter 38
On her way out of the Assassin compound, Rogue snagged Julien's prized and highly illegal Dodge Tomahawk superbike. While the motorcycle could soar over 500 mph, she only pushed it to 130 as she tore down the backroads leading to the only place she had ever considered 'home'. She knew there was no way she would be allowed to stay, but there were some things she couldn't bear to leave behind. A few assassin underlings tried to keep up with her, but she quickly outran them. There would be no prize money or improvement in guild social standing tonight.
As Rogue approached the LeBeau Manor, she cut the lights and engine on the bike, gliding it into the garage. Using all the stealth the thieves had taught her, she crept as silently into the house as possible. She should have known her luck wouldn't hold out when she forgot about the last stair before the third-floor landing. Its resulting squeak could really only be heard by someone in the parlor and of course, someone had to be in there tonight.
"Missed yo' first Christmas, petite." Jean-Luc's voice carried from the wet bar where he was nursing an old fashioned.
Rogue's shoulders hunched when she first heard him speak, but they slumped when she registered his words. No doubt, he'd meant her first LeBeau Christmas and probably didn't realize it was her first, period. Then again, maybe he did know considering all she'd confessed. There would be even more to share now.
She stepped into the parlor, but her father-in-law didn't move other than to sip his nightcap and meet her eyes in the mirror above the bar. Instead, he waited patiently like any well-seasoned leader. Eventually, the silence and stoicism did its job and Rogue started squirming in the discomfort.
"Marius is dead." She stated, telling the truth like ripping off a band-aid.
Jean-Luc nodded, finally turning on the barstool to look at her face-to-face, the drink in his hand resting as an afterthought on his thigh. "This have anythin' t' do wit' de fact that y' and Remy disappeared before Réveillon? Or that he came home wit'out y' earlier today?"
Rogue stared at him for a moment, her jaw clenching and unclenching, before she dipped her head just once in affirmation. An eerie silence filled the room, spreading out into the sleepy living quarters allocated to the rest of the LeBeau family. Jean-Luc kept his gaze trained on hers, deciphering the unspoken. He knew the young woman he'd come to consider a daughter was an assassin. He just didn't think he'd be so aware of the fulfillment of her training. The question was: had he misjudged her so terribly that she was now here for him too? Finally, he raised his glass closer to his lips, though he did not take a drink.
"Do de other assassins know?" He threw back the liquid courage, needing the fortitude for her answer.
"Yes." Rogue croaked, throat suddenly dry.
Jean-Luc's eyes grew unfocused, realizing it was the end of the life he knew. Speaking more to himself, "Julien won't honor de Unification. He'll make a power play and break off a faction of assassins if nothin' else. There'll be no peace."
"Julien is dead too." Her voice was stronger, but an emotionless, recitation of fact.
His head shot up in shock. "What did y' do, Rogue?"
"What was necessary." She shrugged it off, adding, "Though Ah can't claim credit. Julien slipped and hit his head. Marius had a heart attack."
Her words brought little solace to Jean-Luc. She maybe didn't directly cause their deaths, but her arrival after whatever had happened in the last forty-eight hours no doubt was indirectly responsible. At least he could take comfort that he wasn't a terrible judge of character after all.
"Putain!" He swore, running his hand through his hair in an oddly familiar way Rogue had come to associate with Remy. "Y' have t' leave, petite. I can maybe work wit' Belle, but only if yo' not here. She'll be out fo' blood and will go through anyone t' see y' dead."
"Ah know. Ah only came back t' get a few things." Rogue admitted, still oddly calm considering the events that had transpired.
"I can't guarantee much, but I'll arrange as safe a passage as possible." Jean-Luc promised, rising to the task.
Rogue didn't know what she had expected, but it hurt when he breezed past her. Maybe she had been hoping for at least a goodbye hug, not an outright dismissal.
Before he left the parlor, Rogue added, "Ya need ta extrude Theoren," referencing the process to remove a thief from the guild. "He was there for the whole thing and declared himself an assassin."
She barely heard Jean-Luc's gasp, but his "Mon Dieu!" was clear as he paused to process the news. "He always held predacious views, but I never thought…" Jean-Luc trailed off. He only paused for another moment before nodding once and rushing off to put things in motion.
Taking his departure as her cue to do the same, Rogue pushed the stirrings of loneliness aside and crossed the hall and into the suite she'd shared with Remy. She skipped the front room and headed straight for the closet. There wouldn't be a lot of room on a motorcycle, so she'd already planned the few clothing and hygiene essentials she knew she would need. Everything else could be acquired once she settled into a routine. That meant the Unification gown she'd loved so much would have to stay behind. Fingering the fine couturier piece, Rogue brushed her palm down its smooth length before giving the sleeve a gentle squeeze.
As she turned toward the bathroom, a picture caught her eye. It was of her and Remy a few days after the Unification Cotillion. Snatching up the frame, she gazed at the smiles on their faces. He'd taken the selfie in one of the rare breaks they took from assuming guild leadership. One of them had made some off-handed comment, which turned into a laughing fit of jokes and sarcastic responses. Right after they'd looked at the pic to see if it came out, he'd smiled such a genuinely happy grin and kissed her.
Rogue hesitated for a moment, torn between taking the photo with her or leaving it behind. A part of her desperately wished Remy was here with her now so she could say a last goodbye and be held in his arms one more time. And yet another part couldn't forget what both Bella Donna and Theoren had intimated. If what they had said was true and not some ploy to distract her, then Remy had cheated on her with a stripper when he and Etienne had gone on that damned contract in Atlantic City.
She desperately wished for some way to know the truth of the matter but was pragmatic enough to know there would be no opportunity for a straight answer. Chewing on her lip, she debated for a second longer before shoving the 5x7 frame into her bag. If nothing else, that was their happy bubble when everything was perfect and that was the time that she would want to remember in the years to come.
Packing up the rest of her things, Rogue took a last look around the room. Out of nervous habit, she brought her hands together and started playing with her wedding rings. No, not her rings. Bella Donna's. Rogue gazed down at the fancy canary diamond with its gawdy but perfectly colorless pave accents. These were never purchased with her in mind. Remy never thought how happy they would make her, but rather his lover and intended future wife. The proposal with sweet words of devotion were not spoken as the jewelry was slipped on her finger.
Rogue grasped the over-the-top pieces and jerked them off before slamming them down on Remy's bureau, uncaring if any of the diamonds fell out with the force. If Bella Donna wanted them so badly, she could have them. In a fit of vindictiveness, Rogue nearly ripped the photo she'd stashed out of her bag too, but the pique quickly passed, and she realized all she'd be doing was hurting herself in the long run. Throwing her bag's strap over her shoulder, she left the room she'd come to know as her little sanctuary.
It came as a surprise when she stepped out of the suite to see three familiar faces. While she was packing and Jean-Luc was making arrangements, Tante Mattie, Mercy, and Henri had been roused out of their sleep. Rogue didn't know how much Remy had told them or what they knew of the last several days' events. She held back, chewing her lip as she tried to assess the situation. Did they hate her for what had happened – any of it, going back as far as the wedding?
Mercy alleviated her doubts as she stepped forward and swiftly embraced Rogue. Her voice was teary as she said, "I don't know what happened yesterday and I don't want t' know 'cause I'll probly be kickin' that cul de garçon clear int' next week. But I'm gon' miss you."
"Me too." Rogue answered, mourning the loss of a sister-in-law who more closely resembled the expected relationship than the swamp witch that was her adoptive sister.
Rogue's eyes stung as Mercy leaned back. Tears flowed down the blond's cheeks as she squeezed Rogue's upper arms and gave her a watery smile. Uncomfortable with the emotional display, Henri good-naturedly butted in.
"Ditto whatever Mercy said, otherwise she'll be kickin' my ass int' next week too!" Rogue playfully slapped his chest, her own tears starting to brim as Remy's older brother briefly held her before sweeping his sobbing wife into his arms.
That only left Mattie. As soon as Rogue looked at her, the wall she'd erected around her heart on the flight back from Switzerland crumbled to dust. Loss and despair spilled over her lashes and down her face. The realization of exactly what had transpired, and the permanency of those effects finally hit her.
"Now don'chu cry, chile." Mattie pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "I know it don't seem like it now, but everythin's done gon' work out as de Lord God Almighty intends."
"Ah don't see how." Rogue choked out, giving into her grief against Mattie's shoulder.
"It just do, chile, it just do." Tante Mattie patted her back, putting a little sway into her stance as if soothing a baby.
The pair stayed like that for just a moment. The motherless memorizing the love of a child; the orphan relishing the comfort of a parent. Finally, when it was time to part, Mattie handed her a traiteur's kit and whispered for Rogue's ears only, "Ya gon' do right by my boy."
Confusion twisted Rogue's face as the hug ended, but Mattie was already turning toward the landing at the sound of heavy footfalls running up the stairs. What did that mean? Remy had left Rogue in Geneva. Told her she didn't have a home. He'd shown up at the Assassin's compound and kissed Bella Donna for crying out loud! If that all wasn't a clear indication that her marriage with him was over, Rogue didn't know what was. Jean-Luc's reappearance pushed further contemplation to the backburner.
"If Belle hasn't issued de contract fo' yo' life, it's comin'. Means every assassin fo' a hundred miles is gon' be after y' soon enough and they're all gon' be lookin' on de main thoroughfares." Remy's father handed her a map, a set of boat keys, and a credit card. "If y' leave now y' might just make it t' Lake Pontchartrain. Y' remember where de Thieves dock is?"
"Yes." Rogue nodded. After she and Remy had become the guildmasters, she learned all the asset locations and this one was the same they had used for her birthday yacht excursion.
"Bon. There's a high-performance boat there. Cross t' de northeast side of de lake and take de Bayou Bonfouca waterway t' Old Town Slidell boat launch. It's only three blocks from de train station and two from a motel where y' can hideout 'til de Crescent line arrives on Sunday mornin'. From there, y' can either ride de line all de way up t' New York or get off in Meridian, Mississippi t' catch a bus t' Dallas."
"Okay." Rogue nodded again as she looked at the items he had given her.
She would ditch the boat and map at the dock, but the credit card could be problematic if it could be traced. As if reading her mind, Jean-Luc cautioned, "De card is only good fo' de next 72 hours. After that, I'm afraid t' say y' will be on yo' own. Whichever guild survives this mess will not acknowledge yo' existence."
Rogue looked sharply up at him. It was one thing to know the truth and another to hear it out loud. After a pause, she confirmed, "Ah understand."
This time, Jean-Luc nodded. As Rogue started toward the stairs, he grabbed her hand, kissed her tear-stained cheek, and said, "Bonne chance et prendre soin de toi."
"You too." She answered back, meeting and holding his eyes for a moment before telling the others, "All y'all."
Mercy gave her a bleary smile, Henri a quickly raised hand, and Mattie a heartfelt wave. Imprinting the last look of the family she'd come to love, Rogue turned her back on them. As she ran down the stairs, she scrubbed her face from the dried moisture that had tracked down her cheeks. She wasn't in the clear yet, so she needed to toughen up until it was safe to breakdown and cry.
Reaching the garage, Rogue headed toward Julien's superbike. It came as a surprise when a figure emerged from the shadows. In a split second, her aching muscles tensed for the first attack. Only years of training kept her from delivering a debilitating strike once she registered the mop of ginger hair.
"Ouah! It's just me, cuz." Emil's hands raised in surrender. "Désolé. I didn't mean t' startle y'."
Rogue's stance eased, though she still kept up her guard. One "cousin" had already proved untrustworthy today. How did she know Emil wasn't number two?
Warily, she answered, "Its fine. Ah was just leavin'. "
"Nonc Jean-Luc said y' were headin' out." He bobbed his chin in affirmation. "Didn't give any specifics though. Just said get de car ready."
"The car?" Rogue's brows knit in confusion. Either a thieves' bike or Julien's motorcycle were going to be conspicuous. At least with the latter, she'd have the advantage of superspeed.
"Ouais." Emil nodded over his shoulder at one of the big black armored SUVs. The vehicle wasn't as heavily defended as the patriarch's car, but it was the next best thing. "He gave strict instructions that I should take y' t' de dock."
Only a heartbeat passed before Rogue launched herself in his loose embrace. She hugged him tightly, perhaps a little too long, as Emil gave into his own confusion and hugged her back.
Ever the clown, he sought to ease the parting with a little teasing. "Hey now, what's all this 'bout? Not like none of us ain't ever had t' lay low fo' a bit."
The half-hearted joke totally missed the mark, but Rogue smiled at his attempt all the same. "Yeah. Ah'll just be down the street, outta sight, outta mind."
"Outta sight, ouais. Outta mind? Jamais." He playfully chucked her jaw like an older brother would a kid sister. "C'mon. Jean-Luc wants y' down in de stowaway, in case we run int' any trouble. It's a pain t' get de thing open and closed."
Rogue followed Emil to the back of the SUV, having no clue what a "stowaway" was until he lifted the backseats and exposed a cleverly hidden cargo hold in the floorboard. The space was barely big enough for a full-sized man to lay flat with his arms against his sides. There might be three inches clearance between nose and the compartment's lid. It was a terribly claustrophobic situation, worse than a coffin, but it might indeed save her life.
Emil offered his hand to help her climb up, first into the back of the SUV, then down into the stowaway. Slipping feet first into the space, she scooted toward the front of the vehicle until her feet hit the end. Since she was several inches shorter than the intended "passenger", Emil was able to stash her small duffel in the compartment with her. At least she would have some cushioning if he had to suddenly accelerate.
As he started sliding the lid back into place, he said, "It might get hot in there, but there's a circulation system. I'll turn on de fresh air as soon as I start de car."
Rogue nodded, uncannily nervous about the enclosed space. She was almost totally sealed in when at the last moment she cried, "Emil!"
Waiting for him to pause and look her in the eye, she continued, "Don't do anythin' stupid. That's an order."
What she'd really meant was if they were stopped by assassins, he shouldn't give up his life in exchange for hers. A muscle in Emil's jaw flexed. He clearly understood and disagreed but would honor the command from his guildmaster all the same. After all, only a formal decree could stop him from fulfilling the oath he swore to protect her.
Without a moment's hesitation, he quipped, "Quelle? I shouldn't tell jokes all de way there?"
There was no light in Emil's eyes as was usually present. Rogue gave him a weak smile in return, already missing his teasing ways.
"Take care, petite cousine." And with that, he sealed her in.
Immediately, darkness enveloped her. Within a few breaths, the air grew stuffy. She could hear him snapping the backseats into place, but everything was muffled. A few seconds later, she felt rather than heard him open the driver's door, climb in, and shut it behind him. As promised, circulated air started pumping into the confined space as soon as Emil started the car.
Backing out of the garage was an odd sensation. Even though there was no seatbelt, the cramped interior kept Rogue from shifting around too much. It almost felt as if she were levitating an inch above the floorboard as she felt the car continue its backward momentum. At the circular drive, Emil shifted gears and they started normal forward progression. This left her feet pressed against the end of the stowaway as if she were standing instead of lying in the space. At least it was less disorienting than reverse gear had been.
Remembering the last drive to the dock was only about twenty minutes, Rogue tried to picture the streets as a means to keep her mind off the time and tight interior. Each twist and turn matched up with one Remy had taken the night they'd left on her birthday surprise trip, until Emil came to an unexpected rolling stop. If they were where she thought they were, there were no streetlights or intersection signs. They would be well within the Lakeview District, if not very close to the road leading to the dock. There was no reason to stop so close to their destination.
Suddenly the pressure in the vehicle changed. Emil must have rolled down the window. Though the voices were muffled, she could make out enough of his side of the conversation.
"Evenin', mon amis. Nice night fo' catchin' specks, non?" He asked, referencing the speckled trout sportsmen fished out of Lake Pontchartrain on long winter nights.
Another voice spoke, though the pitch was too low for Rogue to make out what was said.
"No, hadn't heard that. Been preppin' gear and catchin' greenbacks fo' bait all day." She could hear the tension in Emil's voice, but prayed it was just because she'd come to know him so well. From context, she was pretty sure they had been stopped by assassins.
"Mais, y' know," She imagined him waving his hand with the slow response, "Y' can only catch greenbacks down in de Gulf." The answer was a little odd, so Rogue could only assume why the other man had questioned the timing of Emil's arrival at the lake.
There was a tap on the passenger's side window, which Emil lowered and further changed the pressure in Rogue's small space. For whatever reason, she could hear the second person's voice a little more clearly.
"So, y' wouldn't mind if we looked in de back." The higher vocal range explained the difference. The second person was clearly female.
"Not at all." Emil confirmed, a telltale mechanical clicking indicating the doors were all unlocked.
Being closer to the back, Rogue heard the hatch lift. Natural exterior sounds flooded the otherwise quiet SUV interior. Unknowingly, she held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she sent up a silent prayer to whomever would listen. The two people in the front had moved to the backseat of the vehicle and were checking under seats. A third person lifted something heavy from one side of the rear and tossed it to the other side. Whatever it was had enough weight that the back of Rogue's head bumped into the floor of her hidden compartment.
"Hé! That's expensive gear!" Emil protested, but whomever had stopped them ignored him.
The person ransacking the back knocked on the floorboards but didn't hit over Rogue's hiding spot. All the thumps gave the same solid feedback. Then just as suddenly as it had started, the hatch and doors shut.
"Yo' damn lucky, t'ief." The woman spoke, followed by the lower vocal range of the first person.
"I'll keep that in mind." Emil promised, though his tone was soured.
No doubt, Bella Donna had given strict orders. She only really wanted Rogue brought in alive to finish her off in person. If any assassin shed any thief's blood tonight, it would be detrimental to rekindling her relationship with Remy. And didn't Rogue know how desperate Belle was to make that stick.
"Bonne chance t' Belle." Emil shouted before the pressure changed once again, indicating he rolled up the windows. "She's gon' need it."
The SUV rolled forward before picking up speed at a normal pace. They continued on a short ride, though Rogue didn't keep a running mental GPS this time. Within a few minutes, she felt the vehicle change gear and direction as Emil backed into a final location. The engine turned off and the driver's side door opened and closed before the hatch lifted. Rogue heard the clicks as the backseats were lifted forward, exposing the hidden compartment again. It was surprising when Emil did not immediately open the stowaway.
Whatever bag he had stored in the rear was shifted around. Metal clinked against metal before making a soft thud on the floorboards next to the stowaway. Only once all the metallic sounds had ended was the compartment opened again.
"Hé, cousine, hate t' be de bearer of bad news, but y' got t' get in de bag." Emil indicated a second, larger sized duffle next to a sloppily unpacked rod and tackle bag. "I'm pretty sure one of those assassins tailed me here. I'll get de boat all started fo' y', but yo' gon' have t' jet outta here as soon as I give y' de signal."
Rogue chewed her lip for a second, debating. They'd already had one cousin betray them tonight, how likely would it be for two? While Emil was a Lapin and not a Marceaux, she couldn't tell for sure if that made a difference. Being confined to the bag would make her an easy victim for tossing in the lake.
"C'mon, papillon." He waved her on, but Rogue's eyes narrowed. "What did ya just say?"
Emil sighed, but provided an explanation anyway. "There aren't a lot of secrets in de guild and fewer in de family. Difference is de ones who keep 'em."
He'd known. He'd known all along and covered for her, first with Etienne's unrequited love and later with Remy touching her the night of the Unification Cotillon. Unlike Theoren who had tried time and again to expose them, Emil had kept his mouth shut about everything, even when he clearly had questions that deserved some partial explanation.
Rogue impulsively threw her arms around his neck again and kissed him quickly on the cheek, whispering, "Thank you," in his ear. The moment was over before it ever really began as she climbed into the bag.
Once settled, Emily swiftly pulled the zipper. He stopped before fully sealing her in, giving her a sad smile as he said, "Be safe."
Other than a teary moue in return, there was no time for Rogue to return the sentiment. The bag was sealed up and he carried her to the boat as if she was his fishing gear. Barely a minute passed as he started the speedboat and released her from the duffle's confines. Emil was already stepping back onto the dock before she could fully climb out. A pair of headlights flared to life, interrupting the quick wave each had given the other.
Rogue turned her back and gunned the controls. Gunshots rang out while shadows behind her danced across the boat's console. She didn't chance a look back, but silently prayed Emil would be okay in the end. Guilt immediately tore at her, the same way her appearance in the LeBeaus' lives ultimately tore their family to pieces. If it wasn't for her, Emil wouldn't be facing three assassins, Theoren wouldn't have come forward as a traitor (even though he still was), Etienne would still be alive, and Remy would be married to the woman he clearly had chosen from the start.
Marius was dead, but his plan to use Rogue to destroy the Thieves had succeeded in all ways that mattered, regardless of what she had done to try to stop it. As she sped off into the night, she vehemently wished his soul was rotting in hell.
(X)
Cul de garçon – boy's ass
Bonne chance et prendre soin de toi – Good luck and take care
Ouah – (French) equivalent of whoa
A/N: For anyone who cares, here's the timeline for Chapters 35-38. While there are some downtimes for catnaps/recovery, neither one has really had a chance for restful, recuperative sleep. Even with his mutation, it's a pretty safe bet that Gambit would have a hard time keeping up with the whiplash like schedule. As for Rogue, she's running on pure adrenaline until the end of this chapter.
-Louisiana Central Standard Time-
12/25 - 12AM CST – Chapter 35: Midnight Mass and last time the LeBeaus see Gambit & Rogue
12/25 - 2AM CST – Chapter 35: Marius calls Rogue on her date with Gambit at Le Lieu Secret
12/25 - 8PM CST – Chapter 36: Rogue & Gambit arrive in Switzerland (12/26 - 3AM CET)
-Switzerland Central European Time (CST +7)-
12/26 - 4AM CET – Chapter 36: Rogue & Gambit fight with Saunders
12/26 - 6AM CET – Chapter 36: Gambit leaves Rogue behind
12/26 - 8AM CET – Chapter 36: Rogue buys clothes at convenience store
12/26 - 10AM CET – Chapter 36: Rogue reports Saunders to police and leaves Switzerland
-Louisiana Central Standard Time-
12/26 - 5PM CST – Chapter 37: Gambit arrives in New Orleans (12/27 - 12AM CET)
12/26 - 9PM CST – Chapter 37: Rogue arrives in New Orleans (12/27 - 4AM CET)
12/26 - 10PM CST – Chapter 37: Rogue arrives at Assassins compound and kills Julien
12/26 - 11PM CST – Chapter 37: Gambit arrives at Assassins compound and Marius dies
12/27 - 12AM CST – Chapter 38: Rogue arrives at Thieves compound to pack
12/27 - 1AM CST – Chapter 38: Rogue leaves the Thieves compound to begin exile