What Someone is Willing
to Give
By: Vainglorious696
Sinister: They have
all been kind enough to attach Ms. Vain to the ceiling so I'm doing this again.
Kaiser: Would you just
shut up and get to the point! She has
Digimon fan fiction to dictate, too! And this time I am going to win instead of that coward Ken!
Vain: Hey, you're not
even in "For They Shall Be Filled!" You're
just a part of Ken's psyche!
Kaiser: Silence, fool! *cracks whip*
Vain: *whimpers*
Remy: . . . Mebbe we
take dat whip from him, non?
Ken: You don't think
I'm a coward, do you, Wormmon?
Sinister: Read the fiction
and review it. Now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PART 8
A week had passed since the
X-Men met in the War Room to discuss their missing comrade. And somehow, it seemed like the longest week
any of them could remember in a long time. Dinners were sedate affairs filled with forced conversation and false
smiles. Storm had retreated to her loft
almost entirely and was rarely seen. Rogue was silent, but somehow relaxed, her tears mysteriously gone. Marrow was tense and snappy, a mood which
she happily spread around and which played on everyone's taunt nerves like a
master's bow on a fiddle. In general,
everyone was just plain miserable.
To make matters worse, on the rare occasions they spoke of him beyond innuendo,
they had begun to gradually refer to Remy in the past tense. Phrases like "He
was" or "I remember how he'd. . ." seemed to litter their conversations and
steal away their present-tense verbs. Rogue was the worst culprit of this. In fact, she referenced Remy as dead so consistently that it began to
raise some eyebrows.
The current status of the Southern couple's volcanic relationship was never a
secret, and for several reasons. Namely
because Rogue's voice could be extraordinarily loud for a woman her size; the
mansion seemed to have a surprisingly large quantity of thin walls and big
mouths; Remy had a penchant for sulking on the roof, locking himself in the
Danger Room, or just outright hiding after their "discussions" (which tended to
consist of a lot of shouting and very little discussing); and the fact that it
was simply impossible to hide things like that from the people whom you share a
house with.
Therefore, everyone knew that they hadn't really been copesetic after
Antarctica and the Trial. No matter
what Remy said about forgiveness, there were times when he looked at Beast, or
Psylocke, or even Trish, and, either he thought no one was looking, or he
merely forgot himself, a dangerous new emotion they had never before seen-
hatred- flashed red hot in those alien eyes of his. Beyond that, however, he showed relatively no emotion the few
times that the "Trial" was mentioned, and never apologized. Instead he
condemned himself to a different exile in the boathouse, and everyone seemed
content with things as they were.
Only now, with everything gone to hell, did Scott begin to regret not having
righted things with the young Cajun when he had had the chance. His sentiments were echoed in the psychic
link he shared with Jean, and, unbeknownst to many of them, the X-Men began to
lose hope, and mourn Remy's loss.
"So, what's up tonight, Fearless?" As
had become usual, Bobby's smile was slightly pained as Scott sat down at the
table. The last one to arrive, the
field leader of the X-Men allowed his eyes to unintentionally linger on each of
his friends' faces.
"Training tomorrow morning," he responded, reaching for the cabbage. "Plus Jean and the Professor are going to do
another sweep tonight."
There was a moment of silence at those words and Cyclops momentarily cursed his
lack of tact.
A southern drawl interrupted the stillness. "Ah don' know why yall're so concerned. Ain't like he's comin' back
anytime soon."
Wolverine was suddenly on his feet, claws extended, "And what the hell is that
supposed to mean, girl?"
Rogue also stood and pointed an accusatory finger at the stout man across the
table, her lovely mouth twisting as she spat out the words, "You know good an'
damn well wut ah mean! In fact, you
seem tuh know more'n anybody else here, sugah! You evuh stop tuh think that maybe if you had told us sooner, we woulda
found him by now? You evuh think that
here ain't nuthin' left tuh find? You got him killed!"
Logan's growl grew to a surpressed roar and he raised his hands slightly,
attack position. "Ya better watch who
you're pointin' fingers at, girlie! I
ain't the one who abandoned him the flamin' Arctic without tellin' no one till
it was too late. Or did ya ferget that
little piece of info? Anybody with eyes
in their head could ya tell that Remy sure as hell didn't!"
Rogue stiffened and her eyes went round. She pressed her hands against her stomach and her mouth made a small "o"
shape as though she had been hit. Knocking down her chair, she staggered back away from Logan and the
table. "Ah didn't. . . It wasn't mah
fault, ah. . . REMY WANTED TUH DIE!"
The sound of Remy's name used twice after so long an absence from conversation
shook the spell woven by shock from Ororo and thunder exploded so loudly that
the windows shook. When she spoke her
voice was hard and quiet, her hands clutching at her silverware till the
knuckles were white. "I will say this
once and only once," her milky white eyes absorbed the entire table
immediately, "I KNOW that my brother is not dead. If he were dead, I would have felt a part of my soul die with
him. Remy Lebeau is alive, and he is
out there- waiting for us, praying for us. And he will be returned to us safely. I know this to be true just as I knew that the ice did not kill him, and
I have always known him. Now, everyone
is going to sit down and eat their food in peace and there will be no more
arguments or mourning. Remy is coming
home, and he must have a home to come to."
Shamefaced, Rogue sat down again, dropping her head and her shoulders shaking
with repressed sobs. After regarding
her a moment, Logan followed suit. The
meal resumed and a thick silence which nobody, not even Bobby, dared to break
fell upon them all, stifling them. Silverware clicked against plates for several eternal minutes and the
Professor turned his head away from the black scene before him to look through
the window. Outside rain fell softly
onto the bloated earth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~