Note : Woo hoo!!! You keep telling me I'm updating fast, but wow, a hundred reviews in two weeks isn't bad at all! Wow, you guys are great! Please continue making me laugh, wipe tears from my eyes… and correct my mistakes. *shy smile* Shame on me! Special thanks to ladystrider77 and crazytook for telling me about my mistake about sighs and sights… Those just look the same to me! I'll correct it, though, and be more careful in the next chapters! *big big hug* It's strange, though, that you two are the first in more than 100 reviews (100!!!!! Wow! I mean… WOW!!) to tell me so… The others were too shy? Don't be afraid to tell me! No matter what you tell me in my reviews, my English is far from perfect, and I really want to improve it. And for that, I need your help! (But please, if there really are a LOT of mistakes, please, please use the email adress :-P). And yes, French is my native language, that's why I don't have any difficulties using that language in my story.
To answer Twisted Rain's question, I'm from the province of Québec, in Canada. I understand English very well (I used to watch Sesame Street when I was young, instead of other French children shows, like Passe-Partout and the abominable butterflies that Passe-Montagne seemed to see all the time… That was freaking scary!) and from what I can read from your reviews, I'm kinda good at writing it (but you should hear my accent when I speak English! I hate it!). But when 7 000 000 francophones live in the middle of a continent (in that case, North America, hope you've guessed) where more than 300 000 000 others talk English, being bilingual isn't really a choice.
Okay, end of sentimental talk. Back to story. Some of you were confused with the dreams suddently stopping… oh well, I have no magical answer to that, sorry. I got bored of it? Hihi, no. I'll let you decide if Remy and Rogue's travel in the past did change something in the past (in that case, it would explain the disapearance of the dreams, in a way, because Sinister would probably remember them now as the murderers of his mortal human shape, not only as X-Men. I'd remember if I were him.) or if they went there to make things happened (it could be, but in that case, is can be confusing, where would the dreams be?). You could also say Sinister simply forgot the idea, retrieving to his lair to plot against Remy, explaining what is happening now… Let's make this an interactive story, and use your imagination, okidouki? I really mean to end this in endless hapinness (if I manage to end this thing) and a lot of babies and kisses and other happy stuff. But first, I have to find a way to get Remy out of the s* he put himself into. Ah, men! Sorry for the bad word(s). Ooooh, zis von't be eazy fo'me!
Oh and the characters don't belong to me, they're my cat's creations (Gilbert, the dumbest cat in the world. He inspired me for Thing's looks and color, but I wish he could be as smart…). Except for Gabrielle. She's mine. But you already know all of this, I've said it 23 times already.
Pfiew! That was a long note.
Enjoy.
Chapter 24
Taking over
He saw Jean's image fade as he concentrated to close his mind to her and to the others, and dropped down his head, staring at his feet. He felt Sinister coming closer to him, standing in front of him, looking at him. He could easily imagine a small ironic smile on his lips, and bile rose to his throath. A white hand came under his chin, lifting his face so he had to look into the dark red eyes. Not like his; Sinister's eyes were completely red, not red on black. They were glowing with fury, though, and Remy repressed a shudder before closing back his eyes. Sinister walked a few steps back.
"You closed your mind, Remington. They won't be able to come in here anymore."
"I know I did. I had to keep them safe from ye."
"You know, you've just lost any chance of getting some help from them."
Remy gulped hard. He was weak, and tired. All strenght he still had had left him when he had locked up his mind. He would never be able to open it again, he knew it well. But his life for three others, he thought. The Professor, Jean and Betsy would come back, and this time, Sinister would kill them, at least in their minds, leaving them dead physically, or in a vegetable state. Now, that was likely to happen to him, and his jaw tightened. Now they were safe. But what about him?
"I know. Ye gonna kill me, aren't ye." To his surprise, Sinister's head jerked up. He looked honestly surprised.
"Kill you? Why in the world would I kill you?" Remy just blinked. Why would he not? "No, I have better plans for you, Remington."
***************
Jean popped her eyes open and blinked a few times, unbelieving. I stood beside her, willing myself not to yell at her, not to push her as she slowly came back to reality. My head was yelling "What happened! What is going on with him! Tell me!". She looked bewildered and lost, though, so I simply put a light hand on her shaking shoulder and spoke gently, leaning to look into her eyes. "Are yah all raht, Jean?" She blinked again and seemed to finally see me. Her eyes fulled with tears, and my heart broke.
"Oh Rogue… Remy, he… He kicked me out!"
"He what?"
"He kicked me out, closed his mind…" She shook her hand and a shiver ran through her body, and through the hand on her shoulder, through mine. She looked up at me, then at Henry. "This is Sinister's doing, he's inside…" She vaguely motionned towards the body on the bed, including Remy, his mind and the general disaster that was still to come.
***************
Colors were twirling around him, making him dizzy. His hands and ankles were still bond by some kind of irons, but he could stand up. Sinister was standing in front of him, raising his arms as images and memories began to flash before his eyes. Memories of Rogue, of former missions… Memories of Bella, of the guilds… His street living, picking pockets and stealing from the market place… His stay at the orphanage, the kids beating him down, kicking him as he balled up in foetal position on the cold floor, calling him names… White walls, disinfectant smells, a glass window, a soft blue blanket… Green water. Cold. Hurt. Needles entering his skin. The memory of this hurt him, as he remembered… the experiments? Sinister turned, facing him, and made an evil smile. "You remember now, Remington? I've worked so hard, for so many years, to make you what you are now… I had made sure your powers would manifest themselves only in your early teens, when the rush of hormones activated your modified DNA *… It grew stronger while you got older. Now, Remington, you can use the powers I gave you at full strenght. You are now the strongest. Undestructible."
***************
I sighed deeply, and rose to my feet. I had been weeping for half the night, holding to Remy's inert hand. Henry was asleep in his room next to the lab, and everything was silent and dark in the lab. Henry had put a woolen blanket on my shoulders before leaving, murmuring a small "goodnight" and yawning his head off. I filled a glass with water and turned back to Remy. What was happening inside his head? What was Sinister doing to him? Was he hurting him? Killing him? The water suddently felt to cold, and I put the glass down on the counter, staring at it. I thought I saw a movement in the corner of my eye, though, and I snapped my head back at Remy.
He was moving. His fingers were twitching and his chest was heaving up and down really fast as his breathing accelerated. The monitors were going crazy, and the beeping sound were driving me mad. I could see on the green screen that his heart was beating madly. "Oh my Gawd, he awakening!" I walked to the bed, and stared at him. What was I to do? I moved to put my hands on his cheeks, then thought better and reached back to a near table, picking up my gloves and putting them on before I made a mistake. I turned back, and gasped, freezing.
His eyes were opened, and he was staring at the ceiling, or something else I couldn't see. His eyes held a glow I had never seen in them, and he was breathing slowly, much too slowly. I felt a shudder run down my spine, and I reached up a hand to put it on his bare shoulder. I whispered to him "Remy? Can yah hear me, sugah?". That got me a reaction. He snapped his head to the left, locking his stare with mine. I frowned. Something was wrong.
I didn't move as he lifted his right hand and reached for my head. I did move, though, when it settled on my throat and began to squeeze. I grabbed his wrist with both my arms and tried to pull it back, screaming. Remy got on his feet, his eyes still plunged into mine, and moved closer to me. My powers seemed not to have any effects on him, and my superstrenght was useless. Whatever was happening to him, I wasn't able to do anything against him. Black spots began twirling in front of my eyes. I hadn't strangled yet, but was in the process of doing so in the hands of my husband. He was killing me.
Suddently, the grip on my throat loosened and he threw me against the wall. I landed with a crash, and sat hard in a puddle of chimical stuff and broken glass. I choked and cought, trying to recover my breath. I rolled into a ball, whoozing and coughing, as I saw Remy's shape looming over me.
Then the floor began to glow. What?
The floor around me was beginnig to show an eerie red glow, and I looked up at Remy. His eyes were bright, and he was staring at the floor under me. Could he charge things without touching them? The floor began to shake under my feet, and I gathered my strengh and leaped for Remy's body. He fell back with a startled exclamation and lost his hold on the floor. It exploded, bringing me to hold up my arms over my head to cover it from the noise and debris coming from the explosion. Noise was coming from all around the laboratory; the X-Men were awake and coming to help. Remy bent over me, grabbed my hair and pulled it up. I yelp in pain and stood up, but he kept his grip on my locks and stared into my eyes. Something flickered in his eyes, and he blinked, suddently releasing me. He took a few steps back, mouth slithly agape, features returning to a more normal, scared Remy. "Rogue?" he asked. "What happened?"
As suddently as he had returned to a more normal himself, he yelled in pain and fell on his knees, clutching his head with both hands, moaning. I hesitated to come close to him, but I didn't have the time to decide that he was on his feet again, sweat gleaming on his face, his features returned to a hard, evil look. He glared at me, but turned back and crashed through the window, as I heard the footsteps of the others in the corridor.
Too late.
To be continued!
* I am NOT a scientific, neither a doctor of somekind… If this is impossible and you know it is, please don't say. Let's pretend, okay?
