Their love had once been an ocean of angry waves storming against the rocks, but gradually turned into a quiet, more manageable emotion that in time became part of the oxygen they needed to breathe. And as such, though one may feel not sure that it's there every single minute of the day, any form of removal and the emotions begin to choke, bringing certain death with it.
That night, their very last night, had been nothing but an ordinary one. If only they had known what was lurking around the corner, it would have been extra special. Over the years and before they got married, there was so much trapped inside each of their hearts that needed to be said that was finally dealt with. All cards had been set on the table, but still, she felt there was so much left to say, to do. Certainly, she should have told him how much she loved him more often. He needed to hear it, as frequently as possible. He was the love of her life, the man she absolutely adored, hell, he became her husband! He was the only one she ever wanted for life. Wasn't that proof enough? Nonetheless, she should have told him so, again and again.
Sadly, that night was not marked with special gestures or something particularly memorable. There weren't any 'I love yous', just a regular married couple's night. True, spiced up with a little bit of sex, but that too was customary after they spent any time apart.
She had been just back after two days away with the X-Men, and she knew she would have to leave again soon, but preferred to keep that from him for as long as she possibly could. They watched some Netflix during the dinner he'd so expertly cooked for her, then took it to the bedroom where they had passionate sex. It was lust filled, hungry, and even slightly kinky. While he was none the wiser, she knew exactly what she was doing. She was putting him to sleep the best way she knew how to. She hated to tell him she had to go, so that was that. He never complained anyway, so she kept that façade coming.
The very last moments they spent together were delicious, though. They just had that buzzy, sleepy feeling of coming down from a stellar orgasm. Her stomach was pressed against the mattress while he took her from behind, she had the help of a sex toy going on as well and was touching her own clitoris on top of that. She was a mess, on an overload of sensations. His hot breath on her neck and shoulder was what caused her final undoing. The way he had been pulling her hair had her screaming out in pleasure and surrender. In no time, she came crushing hard and so did he. In total abandonment, she let herself die her petit mort at the hands of her husband.
After their breathing came back to normal, he usually offered to care for her toys, get up from bed, go wash them, and put them away. When she told him to enjoy his after-orgasm sleepy head, that she would take care of it herself, Remy knew she was up to something. The same as always, she was going to get busy with the X-Men.
When she was back into their room, sure enough, her handsome husband had already succumbed to a peaceful slumber. She saw him looking so beautiful, so serene that she decided to fiddle with his hair for a brief moment and plant a sweet kiss on his forehead. Half asleep, half awake, a smile adorned his lips showing his appreciation for her sweet gestures. Checking the time on her wristwatch, she stood abruptly and quickly wrote what would be her last words to him.
"Shug, working late.
Don't wait up.
Chére."
If only she had known that that would be the last communication ever between them, she would have written a book instead. Truth was, she'd never leave his side, not for anything in this world.
Returning home was more a sensation of the heart than of physical location. And Remy LeBeau was her one true home, he had always been. Inside his arms was where she felt safe and cherished. Comfortable, he was her safe harbor, finally and truly her only home. Much to her dismay, he wasn't there to welcome her with his kisses and warm embrace.
This time around she was the one to be greeted by a note from him.
"Betsy needs help. Don't know how long I'll be gone. Love you.
Your Swamp Rat"
She chuckled at him signing the note as 'Swamp Rat'. Her long-time nickname for him, she had come up with it to tease him back in the day, but it had totally the opposite effect. He found it hilarious and the name ended up sticking around.
The bed was still as messy as they had made it the night before. She was exhausted, and decided to have a shower, and fall onto their bed, using his pillow instead of hers. His smell inebriated her, the unique aroma filled both her lungs and her heart. She quickly fell asleep feeling so in love with him. Her last moment of consciousness before falling asleep was filled with the images of their loving the night before. However, after just one hour of sleep she woke up startled, her heart was invaded with a crippling feeling that threatened to engulf her. All she could remember was an old lady showing her the tarot card that represented Death and then she was screaming, calling out her husband by his name to the top of her lungs.
Without a second of hesitation, not caring if people would find her concern ridiculous, Remy LeBeau's wife left home to seek the Council, they had to know more about her husband's whereabouts. Upon arrival, Kitty answered her question with basically the same little information left by him in the note. He was gone with Betsy and some others, with the added piece of information that made her whole body tremble with sudden unease: they went to the Otherworld.
By now, she was well aware of why mutants feared that place. If a witchbreed, the name they called mutants over there, dies in the Otherworld, they will never be the same again, even if they were brought to life again. No guarantees they would get their memories back, or even have their very sense of self or essence back.
But why would that bother her, right? Her man was excellent at avoiding death, he had been Death himself, for crying out loud. She knew she was just being silly with all that worry. It was so not like her. So, she just went back home and put on a huge effort to just go by the day and night without him. Her attempt proved unfruitful, everything in their place reminded her of him. In the middle of the night, more nightmares followed, this time she could remember more details after she woke up. There was a fortune teller reading tarot cards, again the death card came into full view, and the queen of Hearts. It made no sense, a playing card in the fortune teller's hand mixed with all other tarot cards.
"Goodbye, chére," she heard his voice as if he was whispering in her ear. Again, she woke up startled, shouting out his name in the darkness of their room.
The next morning, she tried hard to do the chores, play with the cats, pretend it was a day just like any other when she heard a knock on the door. To her surprise the unexpected visitors were her mothers, grim-faced Raven and Irene were standing outside with somber looks.
"Marie, we need to talk," Raven spoke solemnly.
"Not now, mother, we can talk about your plans some other time. Remy is gone and it's been weird this time, I'm not doing so well..."
"Exactly," Raven interrupted. "The thief is gone, really gone."
"What!?" Rogue asked, not understanding what she meant.
"Can we come in, dear?" Irene asked gently. Rogue found it strange, Irene was talking to her extra nicely, as if she was a child again. "We need to talk to you, love," she completed.
As soon as Raven entered the living room, she quickly scanned her surroundings and noticed Rogue had been looking at their wedding album.
"Fuck, this will be harder than I thought," she mumbled to herself, as if thinking out loud.
"Let me do this, Raven," she reassured her wife. "Anna, we come with news, news you are not going to like, I'm afraid. That much I can tell you that upfront."
"Can we leave this for another day? I haven't slept well, kept missing Remy, missing his arm around my waist, having these weird nightmares..."
Raven and Irene exchanged worried looks which didn't go unnoticed.
"What? What is it?" Rogue demanded an answer.
"Your husband is not coming back, Rogue."
"Of course, he is. Why wouldn't he?" She replied instantly. Raven shook her head.
"You said you would do it," she told Irene.
"Anna, my darling, remember how I reacted when I learned you married the thief?"
"Would you guys stop calling him that? He has a name! Remy LeBeau is his name! And I'm his Mrs.LeBeau. I proudly took his name because, newsflash to you two, I love him! With all my heart! And I'll be his wife till death do us part."
"So yeah, that ship has set sail..." Raven mumbled.
"Ok, Anna. Remy, the husband you seem to love so much, is now dead. His lifeless body lies in the Otherworld as we speak. And that's why I was so frustrated that you married him in the first place. It all happened just like I had seen. He married you just to go and shed his own life in battle foolishly and break your heart forevermore. Idiot wanted his goddamn redemption, wanted to die a hero! You stopped him once before, but you weren't there this time. Fucking hate him for making you love him like you do just to abandon you like that."
Rogue's body froze, somehow those words rang true, her nightmares, the sickening feeling of dread that plagued her, something wasn't right. Even though Irene's words made sense, she fought them with all her might.
"How would you know that?Based on your predictions? You have the guts to come here to tell me that lie hoping I'll go with you on your mission? My husband and I always find a way back to each other. Give it two or three days and my Remy will be walking into that door, with a smile on his lips, saying he's missed me," she said. Her body contradicted her words as her voice was breaking up as silent tears fell ruefully down her face.
"Kitty will be the one delivering the news. Hope and Betsy managed to contact the council to tell them about Gambit's death, " Raven said coldly. "We wanted to come tell you before she did."
Irene approached Rogue carefully and threw her arms around her. A knock on the door followed, Raven answered the door and sure enough it was Kitty Pride. When she saw Rogue crying in Irene's arms, she asked the question that confirmed it all for Rogue.
"Have you told her already? Had Irene foreseen it?" Kitty had been crying herself and the trembling in her voice confirmed it.
When Rogue heard her, it was as if someone had stabbed her heart and twisted the knife. The guttural sounds of despair that left her lips were terrifying. She roared in pain for what seemed like forever, her knees gave in and she broke down completely. Her knees fell to the floor, and she resumed her crying.
"Noooo! Not my Remy, noooo!" She looked up, feeling empty inside, hollow and lost. "Raven, kill me now. I don't want to go on without him..." She pleaded, looking into the shapeshifter"s eyes. She kept repeating her plea, feeling herself immersed in sorrow and grief.
Rogue was sinking before their very eyes and that's exactly why Irene always hated Remy LeBeau. She saw it before. He made her weak and vulnerable, he was the end of her. But those idiots in love could never see what she saw, they didn't have the full picture. What use was two or three years of bliss together as a young married couple if her daughter was now destined to a lifetime of pain?
For two days and two nights they allowed her to mourn and cry it all out until she just couldn't cry anymore. She was locked in their bedroom, lying in bed, wearing one of his many trench coats, trying to find some comfort in his smell, his pillow, his clothes. She prayed for a God she never really talked to, she hoped Remy was well wherever he was.
On the early morning of the third day, she finally let their room. Her tears were dried, she had bathed and put on a combat uniform. She knew Irene and Raven were in the house waiting for her to come around like they knew she would.
It didn't take her long to find them in the kitchen.
She grabbed a piece of toast while they watched her with curiosity. Without a word, she made her way to the door.
"Hey, where are you going?" Raven asked her.
"Why don't you answer Irene. After all you've seen my husband's death and didn't care to tell me so I could stop it from happening."
"This is not how things work..." she started to defend herself.
"I'm going to bring my husband's body home. I promised him if he were to go first than me, his coffin was to go down while 'Gangsta's Paradise' blasts through the speakers," she replied in all seriousness. "Don't worry, after that I can go fix whatever needs fixing for mutants with you, but now, I have to go."
She slammed the door so hard as she left that the handle fell to the floor.
"She is broken, she'll never be the same without him," Irene commented sadly, shaking her head.
"They better find a way to bring that fucking bastard back to her or else Krakoans will see what she's capable of doing for love," Raven completed.
And they were both right.
The End*
In our beloved Remy LeBeau's memory:
Gangsta's Paradise
As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I take a look at my life, and realize there's nothin' left
'Cause I've been blastin' and laughin' so long
That even my momma thinks that my mind is gone
But I ain't never crossed a man that didn't deserve it
Me be treated like a punk, you know that's unheard of
You better watch how you talkin' and where you walkin'
Or you and your homies might be lined in chalk
I really hate to trip, but I gotta loc
As they croak, I see myself in the pistol smoke
Fool, I'm the kinda G the little homies wanna be like
On my knees in the night, sayin' prayers in the streetlight
Been spendin' most their lives livin' in the gangsta's paradise (...)
Look at the situation they got me facin'
I can't live a normal life, I was raised by the street
So I gotta be down with the hood team
Too much television watchin' got me chasin' dreams
I'm a educated fool with money on my mind
Got my ten in my hand and a gleam in my eye
I'm a loc'd out gangsta, set trippin' banger
And my homies is down so don't arouse my anger
Fool, death ain't nothin' but a heart beat away
I'm livin' life do or die, what can I say?
I'm 23 now, but will I live to see 24?
The way things is goin', I don't know
Tell me why are we so blind to see
That the ones we hurt are you and me?"
A/N: might write a part two if people are interested.