Rogue had to pull her glove off with her teeth while juggling the small tray she held. She pressed her now bare palm on the scanner beside Cell 5. She held her breath a moment, half fearful that she would not be permitted entry. She took the glove from her mouth and held it in her bare hand. The door whisked open, leaving in its wake a transparent but impenetrable barrier; impassible if you were the prisoner, that is. Rogue looked into the cell, spotted Remy sitting cross-legged on the sleeping platform attached to the wall. She watched his eyes scan her, wondering what her motives for being there were.
"Ah got somethin' for you to eat and drink," she said and placed the tray beside him on the bed. "Hank said you could take these painkillers if you're getting to feeling too sore."
His arms were crossed over his chest, his right arm over his left. Hank had wrapped the last three fingers of his right hand in gauze and medical tape. His upper body was otherwise bare save for the inhibitor field he wore. Rogue was curious about this device, but chose not to express too keen of an interest in front of Storm. Remy's bottom half, clad in an old navy blue X-Men uniform, was a regrettable fashion choice on Cyclops' part. Rogue resolved to find Remy something that was less...form-fitted.
his eyes are up there, rogue, Carol said, snickering.
Rogue's eyes immediately snapped up to Remy's. She could see why he'd not taken off his sunglasses during their walk. His eyes were black and red, though the fire in them had greatly diminished when Magnus had activated the inhibitor.
"Why didn't you say you were a mutant?" she asked him. "When we were out walking?"
"I thought all were equal, what does it matter if I'm human or mutant?" His tone was not particularly kind.
She thought to herself: Why not reveal that you were a mutant too, like me? It would have made me all the more likely to trust you.
"Ah guess you just like messin' people around," she said.
"Yup. You got it," Remy said dismissively. "Thanks for the food. You can be on your way now."
"Are you ashamed of being a mutant?" she pressed.
He made a contemptuous sound. "No, I just don't choose to identify myself that way. Most of the mutants I've met are straight up trash."
"Maybe the problem isn't that they're mutants, but the company you choose to keep," she responded, trying to keep her tone even.
"I haven't been able to choose my own company for these last three years," he said bitterly.
Rogue hesitated, then sat gingerly on the sleeping platform, the tray of untouched food (sandwich, apple, crackers, water) between them. "So, those...people in the Alley. You knew them?" From what Wolverine and Cyclops had reported, there might have been a dozen non-Morlock bodies in the Alley. But really, from their gristly report, there wasn't much left of anyone.
"I have had de misfortune of making their acquaintances," he said.
"And how did you go about making acquaintances with murderers?"
"It might be that I wanted to find de biggest bears to poke at," he answered. "Just to see how mad I could make 'em. De answer is: pretty damn mad."
"Why? Why would you do that?" Rogue asked.
"Maybe I have masochistic tendencies."
"Or like a death wish?"
"Being close to death used to be de only thing that made me feel alive."
"Were they out tryin' t'kill you? In the tunnels?" she asked.
"I gave 'em a pretty good chase, but then reached de end of my rope. Then my death wish got granted and I flew all t'pieces. Took 'em all out with me. Nobody say I never left de world a better place." His tone was still bitter.
Rogue exhaled. This wasn't the teasing, charming, laughing person she'd met in the library. Maybe that was all an act. But if it was an act, why make up a story about reading children's literature, or say any of the truly hokey, blue humored, or cute things he'd said? It seemed a very odd persona to assume.
Testing him she asked: "Ah could bring you something to read, if you like? Ah think some of the students are reading The Grapes of Wrath."
"Ugh. I have a hard time getting through Steinbeck. I'd rather one of your romance novels. Make sure there's lots of smut in it."
Rogue looked down at her hands, gave a small sound of mirth. "You look about like you could be on the cover." Her cheeks burned. keep your eyes above the belt, rogue dear.
"I could use a different set of pajama bottoms, that's for sure," he said. "Probably a haircut, too. This whole Fabio look is doing me no favors." He picked up the apple and bit into it. Sighed. "Hope you didn't get this here apple from no serpent. Make me give into temptation and all."
"And what am Ah supposed to be tempting you with?"
"Like some kind of peace offering to get me to cooperate, maybe? Gain my trust? Did Wet Blanket send you in here?"
"No, subtlety is not his strong suit," Rogue told him. "And he'd probably be mad as a wet hen if he found out Ah was in here. Which he will inevitably, once he checks the security logs."
"You think it wise to disobey de Master of Magnetism? Won't he get all bent out of shape? Launch a nuke at you?"
Rogue shook her head. "He's turned over a new leaf, Ah swear. Xavier turning over the school to him gave him a new purpose. A better one."
Remy was halfway through the apple in a matter of a few large bites. "Well, I guess I won't begrudge him that. I used to think maybe if people were given half a chance to do right, they'd do it. But I've lately been proven very, very wrong. Hope for your sakes, it works out better."
"Ah would've taken you right in through the door that night. You didn't have to break in," she said. "Why did you do it?"
"I wanted to know it was all on de up and up. See through my own eyes, not just what you'd be willing to show me. I already stepped in it big time before, not knowing what I was getting myself into," he held out his arms as if he were on display. "And now look at me, the very picture of success! Clearly, I am a master of decision-making."
"But why? Why did you come here in the first place?"
He committed to finishing the apple. Placed the core onto the tray and gathered the crackers in his good hand. "I was lookin' for answers. I thought Xavier might have them."
"Answers to what?"
"All that stuff you said, about how mutants need more help, not less? Well, that rings true."
"You need help, sugah?"
"What'd you mean about when you said you couldn't 'absorb' me?" he asked, in an effort to change the subject.
Rogue still held her glove. She was twisting it between her two hands. "It means, that when Ah touch someone, skin to skin, Ah absorb their thoughts, memories...and if they're a mutant or superhuman, their powers. And Ah can't control it. So Ah keep covered up and make sure no one gets too close."
He regarded her for a moment, momentarily stopping his chewing. Remy swallowed. "Since you can't control your powers, why couldn't Xavier just...block 'em out?"
Rogue shook her head. "Ah don't know. It's complicated. Ah don't have...Ah mean, not all my DNA is...from this world."
His expression was perplexed. "Are you 'bout to tell me you're an alien?"
Rogue smiled and gave a helpless shrug. "No, like Ah was born here on this planet. Ah just happened to pick up a few bits and pieces extra."
"Dieu," Remy said finally. He ate some more crackers. "So Xavier can't just cauterize mutant abilities."
"Xavier can't do much right now anyhow, seein' as he's in outer space."
"Is he visiting one of your cousins?"
"No-wuh," Rogue said and swiped at his knee with her glove. "He's convalescing."
"Right, heard he took a beating," Remy said. "So since you can't control your powers, does that mean you've not been touched? Ever?"
"Not without consequences. And the longer the touch, the worse off the person getting touched is. Like comatose, or worse...dead."
His expression was sympathetic. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, the whole touchy-feely thing is overrated. If no one can touch you, then they can't hurt you. Mostly, touchin' and being touched is just a temporary way of making you feel less alone."
"That doesn't make me feel any better at all."
"I'm just sayin' maybe don't feel so bad about it. It's not all dat great."
"Let me tell you, Remy. One of ours had a baby recently. And Ah'd have given my right arm t'hold him. But Ah couldn't, wouldn't even think of it. What if there's someone you were desperate to hold, touch? Like what if you fell in love?"
"What if you did? And then if you couldn't be with the person you love, it just makes you wish you'd never touched 'em in de first place."
"Remy, that's incredibly depressing."
"Hey, remember how much older and wiser I am than you? You want me to prove it? Here," he extended his left hand to her. "Go 'head, touch me. I promise you'll feel nothing."
She eyed his outstretched hand warily.
"You said you can't absorb me, and b'sides this inhibitor doo-hickey is supposed to generate a field, right?"
Rogue inhaled nervously. She moved the tray of food to Remy's opposite side. Then she placed her gloved hand under his left. Held her bare hand over his open palm. Rogue released her breath, let her index and middle fingers lightly brush the bowl of his palm. She glanced up to meet his eyes.
"Absorb anything?"
"No," she said softly.
"So either the doo-hickey is fully functional, you really can't absorb me, or I got nothin' in my head to absorb."
Rogue let her hand slide into his warm, dry one, like a handshake. Withdrew, then traced her fingertip over the lines on his palm and wrist. There was a pale white line scored diagonally across his palm. She turned his hand over, brushed her fingers over the sparse hairs there.
"Feelin' anything?" he asked.
"Uhm…" she murmured hesitantly, touching each of his fingers in turn. "Ah think you might be older, but not the wiser."
"Not overrated then?"
"Sold yourself short, sugah."
"Well, if you like my hand so much, imagine how interesting de rest of me is."
"For shame," she said, and lightly slapped the back of his hand.
Remy drew his hand away and immediately she missed its warmth. He reached for the sandwich she'd made him, stuffed a quarter of it into his mouth. "Why is food made by other people taste so much better than food y'make yourself?" he asked, his mouth half-full.
"Maybe because it's made with love," she said in a whispery voice and batted her eyelashes.
Remy inspected the contents of the sandwich. "Think dis is salami. Won't you get in trouble for fraternizing with de enemy? They won't put you in front of de firing squad?"
"No."
"Kick you out?"
"No, Remy. This is mah family."
"Don't see what difference that makes. Everyone seemed pretty tense back there."
"It's been a difficult few months."
"Maybe having Magneto in charge isn't helping any."
"Ah promise you, he's changed."
"So, no longer the self-important self-elected leader of all mutant-kind with delusions of grandeur?"
"Some of that is just his personality. But it's not his personality flaws that matter, it's his actions. He's different now. People can change, Ah have to believe that."
"Struggling to believe it, myself," he sighed. "But if it's as you say, I will try to stop myself from antagonizing Farmer Bean any further."
"Farmer Bean?"
"Boggis and Bunce and Bean. One fat, one short, one lean. Those horrible crooks, so different in looks, were nonetheless equally mean."
"What's that from?"
"The Fantastic Mr. Fox. It was a pivotal influence during my early childhood development."
She smiled at him. He ate the last cracker. "You still hungry?"
"I am a bottomless pit, if you ask my Tante." He picked up the glass of water and drained it.
"Do you feel any better?"
"My hand still hurts. But I don't need any x-rays or what have you. And certainly no more pokey things."
"Needles?"
He shuddered: "Don't even say it...I get to havin' a picture in my head-. No, don't even think it. Now, if I get my powers turned back on for a second, my fingers, they'd fix themselves."
"Ah could maybe help," she said. "If you promise to behave yourself...But other than your fingers, you want to tell me what all else you needed help with?"
"Ain?" he said distractedly.
"What. Did. You. Need. Help. With...Sugah," Rogue said slowly.
He fared her with a charming smile, eyes full of devilry. "So I have dis place on my back I can't reach. Do you think you can scratch it for me?" He turned away from her, presented his back.
cute dimples...
Shh-shut up! Rogue let out a frustrated breath. "Ugh! Okay, fine. Where at?"
He tried to point with his right hand index finger. "Behind where dis thing locks," he told her.
Rogue slowly reached out and scratched between his shoulder blades. "Here?"
"Little lower. Okay, dat's better!" he shivered.
"Can Ah guess why?" Rogue said, lightly scratching her bare fingers on his bare back. "Why you need our help? Is it 'cause you need help with your powers?"
He tucked his chin down to his chest. "Okay, now go up."
She obliged. "Ah'm sorry Ah hit you earlier."
"What? That was just a little tap. No big deal," he muttered into his chest. "Oh, wait, you meant when you gave me a slap in de torture chamber."
"Ah could see Ah upset you. Ah was just sooo angry," Rogue said. "But that's no excuse. You looked like you were going to be sick. And Jean could see you were struggling."
"I'm sorry I used you, t'find out more about de folks in de school," he told her.
"Were you there at the library...waiting for me to come 'round?"
"No, just a bizarre coincidence. Not ironic. But maybe not so coincidental, there's not too many folks in dis town. When you gave me your number, I later saw it was de same as de school's. I thought I might not call you back...de real reason I didn't call right away. Then I ran into Pete, and he seemed a nice guy. Helped me. So I thought, maybe it's fine after all. I could just slip in, see if I could find what I was looking for, then go and no one'd be de wiser."
He wasn't directing her fingers anymore, but she let herself linger on his upper back and shoulder. Touch the very firm muscles under soft skin, then the brush of his long hair against the backs of her fingers. Remy didn't complain.
"Did you find what you were lookin' for?" she asked.
"I thought I did," he shook his head. "But maybe not. Maybe I'll just make off with dis doo-hickey." He tapped the inhibitor. "Live my life not being able to scratch my own back."
"You don't want to do that, sugah."
He glanced over his shoulder at her. "You mean to tell me you're not tempted? You could touch someone then, anyone you want."
"Maybe as a stop gap," she answered slowly. "Ah mean, there's other reasons...Ah'm a bit shy to touch anyone again. But it's not a permanent solution. Ah'm still a mutant, it's part of me. It's how Ah identify. And like it or not, it's part of who you are too."
"Person first, mutant last," he told her, looking away.
"Y'can't be willfully blind to differences, Remy. It doesn't serve anyone any good. Because you're not the same as everyone else, you're different. Let's all value one another for our differences, and not our samenesses."
Remy seemed to think this over. "You're a smart cookie," he finally said.
She smiled, and let her fingers pull through a tangle in his hair. "Ah'm older than my eighteen years. Ah have the benefit of other people's experiences in mah head. People smarter than me, more compassionate than me, more brave than me."
aw, you're making me blush. but i'm not that much older than you!
Rogue shook her head. "Now they're a part of me, help make up who Ah am. Give me a new perspective that Ah hadn't seen before."
Remy turned to face her again. "I don't really want to give up my powers. The world feels too heavy on me without them. Slow. Dull. Plus, I love making things go boom. But if it's de only way, I don't know what else t'do. There's just too much. It doesn't ever seem t'stop. Maybe I should go replace de nuclear plant at Indian Point? I'm like, what did Al Gore call it in Earth in the Balance...clean, renewable energy? No fossil fuels for me. I run on sandwiches."
She laughed. "Ah think you might be a smart cookie, too," she told him.
"Only as smart as your average parrot. I'm good at mimicry. As my daddy always told me, especially when he was pissed wit' something I'd done, 'monkey see, monkey do.'"
"See, it's not so hard to be honest, Remy," Rogue admonished him. "You're perfectly capable of giving up information."
"Enh, got to be everyone else making all my choices for me for so long, I started to get pretty sick of it. So now I won't be forced, even if it's in my own best-interest. Got a mental block about it."
She gave a small laugh, reached out and gingerly took his broken hand. "Maybe Ah could siphon some of it off," she said. She looked at the control panel on the inhibitor field on his chest. "Maybe if we timed it right, Ah could try to absorb your powers."
"Don't know if dat's a good idea. Seems like if I don't know how t'control 'em, what chance do you have?"
"Sometimes Ah have a better shot at controlling another mutant's ability than they do. You know, a fresh look at an old problem? Or...well, if you look at Cyke...he's not able to control his optic blasts either. Because of an old injury. Whereas Ah can, since Ah didn't get conked on the head as a kid."
Remy drew a breath. "I dunno, sounds dangerous. I don't want you t'get hurt. And even though those killers were like to kill me, I didn't really intend for them to all get done like they did. I don't want to kill anybody."
"You said yourself, if you'd get a moment or two with your powers, you'd be able to fix up your hand. Do you think you could manage a moment?"
"Awright," he said slowly.
"Now, don't get any ideas about running off," she told him firmly. "You won't be able t'get through that door without gettin' yourself zapped. It's keyed to your power signature."
"No running, no zappy. Got it."
"Maybe you should go to your happy place for a bit?" she suggested. "Ah'll unlock the doo-hickey. Ah hope Ah've got clearance anyway. If not, Ah'll go see if Ah can't get it changed in security."
He nodded, closed his eyes.
"Here goes," Rogue said, and pressed her thumb to the device. It flashed a glowing line that scanned her thumbprint. A small beep and then the prompt: Set/Disarm.
Rogue selected 'disarm.' There was a brief pause, then a click and a hiss as the inhibitor field deactivated.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the feeling of her right hand over his heart, his broken right hand in her left, and the feeling of being connected to someone else.
Next time: So long and no thanks for all the fish.
Random References:
Fantastic Mr. Fox - Roald Dahl