APOCALYPSE
For all useful information, such as summary, disclaimer, my own personal notes, or feedback instructions (hint, hint) see part one.
Rating: I dunno, PG-13, but there's characters swearing. So I'm not sure.
Author's note: I had just posted the first chapter, happy and giddy about posting this story, and started reading one ol' comic book I had lying around to get me in the mood for writing chapter two when I noticed a fatal mistake. See? My mother tongue ain't English, but Spanish, and having to write in English, while thinking in Spanish and having to pull of not only a French accent, but a German as well, requires concentration, lemme tell ya. Thing is, I added a fifth language, cuz I made Kurt say 'niet' instead on 'nein', one being Russian for 'no', the other German, of course ;). Right now I don't even know what language I'm speaking all the time.
I already fixed the mistake, but if you had the chance to read it, please, forget it happened.
CHAPTER TWO
DECISIONS
It was a beautiful evening. The moon was starting to appear while the sun hadn't set yet. The sky was bathed with a soft shade of pink and everything around the mansion was harmony and peace. So odd for them it was almost precious. He didn't want to be cheesy, but he was sure Henri would come up with a quote from some romantic poet to describe that sunset.
Remy sighed, taking another swig from his beer. He couldn't stop thinking about his latest dream. He would have called it a nightmare, but it had been more bizarre than scary.
He didn't quite remembered the details of it; not that he really cared. He knew how it went. Tunnels, Morlocks, marauders, death. He remembered something else. A presence in his dream. Something soothing. It remained him of Rogue in some way, though he didn't quite know why.
He shrugged, leaving the now empty can on the counter next to the previous two, and opened another.
Kurt's words lingered in his mind. He had to find a way to leave his past behind him. Could he do that and stay at the mansion? Didn't the X-men have too much connection with his past? Could he find peace having to see Sinister, Creed, Warren, even his dear Stormy?
Maybe if he confessed. He knew he had to, but he also knew he couldn't.
The idea of leaving had been running through his head for a while now. With his powers changing and all. He needed time. Something inside of him told him it was time to pack his stuff and leave. He had the inexplicable impulse to go west. As if something were waiting for him there. Anyway, he considered his options. He couldn't go to New Orleans. Nor to Seattle. A little voice in his head screamed 'Chicago'. Why would he want to see Chicago? He'd never had any special interest for the windy city.
He was too lost in thought to notice someone walking in the kitchen, but not so that he couldn't feel the friendly concern washing over him. He looked up, lifting his head too fast, and loosing balance. He grabbed the counter for support and smiled.
"Hiya Gumbo. Whatcha doing here? Have you seen Wolvie? Did you drink all that? Man, you must be wasted. You look like crap. Did Wolvie say when he'll be back? We were going to rent a movie. I convinced him to watch 'Jurassic park'. Ya should have seen the look on his face. Wanna...?"
"Petite?" He smiled, and grabbed his head to steady himself.
"What?"
"Remy's a bit drunk an' y'r talkin' too fast, makin' Remy dizzy." Jubilee frowned.
"Why're ya drunk Gumbo? Sad or somethin'?" he shook his head, slowly this time, so he wouldn't fall flat on his behind.
"Non, not sad, petit. Mais Remy is t'inkin' too hard, an' he thought it would help him clear his head. He was very wrong." He smiled sheepishly at her, and she chuckled. She took the can from his hand. He didn't offer any resistance, but stared at her strangely.
"C'mon Gumbo. Yer not Wolvie, ya can't hold yer liquor so good. Lemme make ya some coffee, 'k?"
"I'm alwight petite, not ssso drunk." He slurred, and mentally kicked himself. Just like him to slur when he was defending his sobriety.
"Yeah right, and I'm Winnona Ryder. Move yer ass, Cajun." she grabbed him by the elbow and led him to a chair. He walked a little unsteadily but made it to his destination without embarrassing himself any further.
"Wolvie knows y' 've such a dirty mouth?" he chuckled dumbly.
"Wolvie knows yer calling him Wolvie?" she smirked, and he winced.
"Fair enough."
"So Gumbo, what's eatin' ya? An arithmetic equation? That'll get me drunk any day." She said, turning on the coffee maker and separating two mugs.
"Jus t'inkin' 'bout somet'ing petite. I'm afraid I messed up, t'inkin' 'bout what to do 'bout it." he didn't let his mood darken. Jubilee lived up to her name and he could never be grim around her.
"Sure ya messed up, Cajun. Ya drank all of Wolvie's beer. He's gonna gut ya."
"Ha, ha. Very funny petite. Like I drink from HIS beer. Sure. Y' t'ink Remy has a death wish now?" he said pretending to be shocked. Jubilee laughed.
"Ya ain't as dumb as ya look, Cajun!" Remy went silent all of the sudden, looking gloomy. "I was joking ya dummy, you don't look dumb." Remy couldn't help but laugh a little.
"Henri would've a field day wit' y' petite." He sighed. "Jubilee, do y' trust me?" The seriousness of his tone, plus hearing him using her name instead of 'petite' startled her.
"Whatcha talkin' about swamp rat?! 'Course I trust ya! Yer like my favorite X men. After Wolvie, of course."
"Of course." He mimicked with his arms. Then his face went dark again. "What if I tell y' I did somet'ing very, very wrong?" she seemed to really pondered on that question.
"Like squashing a kitten with yer bike?" Remy burst out laughing. She could really lift his mood.
"Non, mon petite." He said finally, after composing himself. "Somet'ing real bad. Let's say I hurt someone a lot, and didn' mean to. But den I hid it. What would y' t'ink of Remy?"
"I once took fifty bucks from my dad's wallet. Turned out they were to buy something he really wanted, some fishin' stuff, and I spent them all in video games and movies. When he asked me, I lied and said it wasn't me so he wouldn't be so disappointed with me. But I felt like shit afterwards. Wished I had been honest. Something like that?"
"Somet'ing like dat, but multiplied by a thousand."
"Told ya, I ain't good at maths. But whatever it was Remy, yer family. My dad found out eventually, and he didn't hate me, ya know? And I felt relieved I got it of my chest. So spill, what did ya do?" she asked curiously.
"Mebbe I tell y' someday, petite. I t'ink dis Cajun needs to go to be alone right now." He patted her hand affectionately, relieving on the innocence she emanated.
"Hey! Coffee ain't even ready!"
"Mebbe y' should save dat for Logan, I've a feelin' he'll need it. Wit' de dinosaurs an' all." He chuckled and she slapped his arm.
"I'll make ya watch it too if ya keep it up!"
"Non, petite. Remy already saw it. Y' make me watch dat an' I make y' watch a French film."
"No way! What do ya want me to fall into a coma?!" she covered his mouth with her hands, shocked. "Remy...I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..." Remy cocked his head. It took him a few moments to understand the child's embarrassment.
"Petite, Remy ain' traumatized by dat. Y' didn' say rien wrong, D'accord?" he said kindly, standing up and feeling relieved that the room wasn't spinning anymore. Though his head was still a little fuzzy. Jubilee flashed him a bright smile.
"Phew! See? Yer so cool! There's some sensitive wussies around here, lemme tell ya! But not the Cajun!"
"Now y' hurt me, petite. Remy has feelings." He said mock serious, dramatically placing a hand on his heart, "If y' hurt Remy, doesn' he bleed? If he's sad, doesn' he cry?"
"Shut up, Gumbo! Yer making my stomach hurt!" she said between fits of laughter.
She turned away from him, fixing some snacks for her movie experience. He watched her from the door feeling happy; he knew the feelings were alien, but he didn't care. Something she'd say reverberated in his mind... 'yer family'... she'd said. He didn't know if that was true, but he did know that he loved them all as if it was. They were his family. And he hadn't been a family to them. He'd kept himself from them. He hadn't trust them in fear of loosing their trust.
"Still here Gumbo? Make yourself useful, eh? Pass me the mustard, will ya?" she said, without turning her back, slicing a piece bread.
He steadied himself and begun walking towards the refrigerator when the door opened abruptly and the mustard leapt from the shelf landing on the counter.
"Hey Watch it Cajun! You almost hit me! What are ya, Bobby now?" she turned around mock anger, but her expression changed upon seeing the pale, astonished face of her friend. She ran to her side, thinking he was going to pass out.
"Hey, Gumbo, ya alright?" Remy stared at the mustard. 'I did dat!!!' he thought, feeling the floor moving again. 'How did I do dat?!?'
"Gumbo, ya look like yer about to pass out. Want me to walk ya to yer bedroom? I can ask someone to help ya up, what do ya say?" Remy nodded at first, blinking, but then he shook his head.
"I'm alright, petite. Feel a li'l dizzy, is all. I better go to bed early today." He said in a whisper.
"Ya do dat. Ya look like shit, I tell ya." She laughed. He only turned around, and slowly, dazed, begun walking out the kitchen.
"Bon nuit petite." He said in a monotonous tone. 'I did that?!' he thought.
'Yes' another part of his brain answered. He just shook his head. He heard a faint, "Night Gumbo." Coming from behind him. He was too drunk to think right now. That had to be it. His eyes were playing tricks on him.
He climbed the stairs slowly. He hoped it was just his imagination. But he knew it hadn't been.
"Merde!" he whispered, closing his bedroom door fast behind him, shielding himself from everyone. "I've to find out what's goin' on. Remy's gonna get caught if he doesn' find out soon."
He slumped on the bed. He knew his mind and his heart had already made a decision, he just hoped they would let him know what that was soon enough.
"Mebbe tomorrow."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
For all useful information, such as summary, disclaimer, my own personal notes, or feedback instructions (hint, hint) see part one.
Rating: I dunno, PG-13, but there's characters swearing. So I'm not sure.
Author's note: I had just posted the first chapter, happy and giddy about posting this story, and started reading one ol' comic book I had lying around to get me in the mood for writing chapter two when I noticed a fatal mistake. See? My mother tongue ain't English, but Spanish, and having to write in English, while thinking in Spanish and having to pull of not only a French accent, but a German as well, requires concentration, lemme tell ya. Thing is, I added a fifth language, cuz I made Kurt say 'niet' instead on 'nein', one being Russian for 'no', the other German, of course ;). Right now I don't even know what language I'm speaking all the time.
I already fixed the mistake, but if you had the chance to read it, please, forget it happened.
CHAPTER TWO
DECISIONS
It was a beautiful evening. The moon was starting to appear while the sun hadn't set yet. The sky was bathed with a soft shade of pink and everything around the mansion was harmony and peace. So odd for them it was almost precious. He didn't want to be cheesy, but he was sure Henri would come up with a quote from some romantic poet to describe that sunset.
Remy sighed, taking another swig from his beer. He couldn't stop thinking about his latest dream. He would have called it a nightmare, but it had been more bizarre than scary.
He didn't quite remembered the details of it; not that he really cared. He knew how it went. Tunnels, Morlocks, marauders, death. He remembered something else. A presence in his dream. Something soothing. It remained him of Rogue in some way, though he didn't quite know why.
He shrugged, leaving the now empty can on the counter next to the previous two, and opened another.
Kurt's words lingered in his mind. He had to find a way to leave his past behind him. Could he do that and stay at the mansion? Didn't the X-men have too much connection with his past? Could he find peace having to see Sinister, Creed, Warren, even his dear Stormy?
Maybe if he confessed. He knew he had to, but he also knew he couldn't.
The idea of leaving had been running through his head for a while now. With his powers changing and all. He needed time. Something inside of him told him it was time to pack his stuff and leave. He had the inexplicable impulse to go west. As if something were waiting for him there. Anyway, he considered his options. He couldn't go to New Orleans. Nor to Seattle. A little voice in his head screamed 'Chicago'. Why would he want to see Chicago? He'd never had any special interest for the windy city.
He was too lost in thought to notice someone walking in the kitchen, but not so that he couldn't feel the friendly concern washing over him. He looked up, lifting his head too fast, and loosing balance. He grabbed the counter for support and smiled.
"Hiya Gumbo. Whatcha doing here? Have you seen Wolvie? Did you drink all that? Man, you must be wasted. You look like crap. Did Wolvie say when he'll be back? We were going to rent a movie. I convinced him to watch 'Jurassic park'. Ya should have seen the look on his face. Wanna...?"
"Petite?" He smiled, and grabbed his head to steady himself.
"What?"
"Remy's a bit drunk an' y'r talkin' too fast, makin' Remy dizzy." Jubilee frowned.
"Why're ya drunk Gumbo? Sad or somethin'?" he shook his head, slowly this time, so he wouldn't fall flat on his behind.
"Non, not sad, petit. Mais Remy is t'inkin' too hard, an' he thought it would help him clear his head. He was very wrong." He smiled sheepishly at her, and she chuckled. She took the can from his hand. He didn't offer any resistance, but stared at her strangely.
"C'mon Gumbo. Yer not Wolvie, ya can't hold yer liquor so good. Lemme make ya some coffee, 'k?"
"I'm alwight petite, not ssso drunk." He slurred, and mentally kicked himself. Just like him to slur when he was defending his sobriety.
"Yeah right, and I'm Winnona Ryder. Move yer ass, Cajun." she grabbed him by the elbow and led him to a chair. He walked a little unsteadily but made it to his destination without embarrassing himself any further.
"Wolvie knows y' 've such a dirty mouth?" he chuckled dumbly.
"Wolvie knows yer calling him Wolvie?" she smirked, and he winced.
"Fair enough."
"So Gumbo, what's eatin' ya? An arithmetic equation? That'll get me drunk any day." She said, turning on the coffee maker and separating two mugs.
"Jus t'inkin' 'bout somet'ing petite. I'm afraid I messed up, t'inkin' 'bout what to do 'bout it." he didn't let his mood darken. Jubilee lived up to her name and he could never be grim around her.
"Sure ya messed up, Cajun. Ya drank all of Wolvie's beer. He's gonna gut ya."
"Ha, ha. Very funny petite. Like I drink from HIS beer. Sure. Y' t'ink Remy has a death wish now?" he said pretending to be shocked. Jubilee laughed.
"Ya ain't as dumb as ya look, Cajun!" Remy went silent all of the sudden, looking gloomy. "I was joking ya dummy, you don't look dumb." Remy couldn't help but laugh a little.
"Henri would've a field day wit' y' petite." He sighed. "Jubilee, do y' trust me?" The seriousness of his tone, plus hearing him using her name instead of 'petite' startled her.
"Whatcha talkin' about swamp rat?! 'Course I trust ya! Yer like my favorite X men. After Wolvie, of course."
"Of course." He mimicked with his arms. Then his face went dark again. "What if I tell y' I did somet'ing very, very wrong?" she seemed to really pondered on that question.
"Like squashing a kitten with yer bike?" Remy burst out laughing. She could really lift his mood.
"Non, mon petite." He said finally, after composing himself. "Somet'ing real bad. Let's say I hurt someone a lot, and didn' mean to. But den I hid it. What would y' t'ink of Remy?"
"I once took fifty bucks from my dad's wallet. Turned out they were to buy something he really wanted, some fishin' stuff, and I spent them all in video games and movies. When he asked me, I lied and said it wasn't me so he wouldn't be so disappointed with me. But I felt like shit afterwards. Wished I had been honest. Something like that?"
"Somet'ing like dat, but multiplied by a thousand."
"Told ya, I ain't good at maths. But whatever it was Remy, yer family. My dad found out eventually, and he didn't hate me, ya know? And I felt relieved I got it of my chest. So spill, what did ya do?" she asked curiously.
"Mebbe I tell y' someday, petite. I t'ink dis Cajun needs to go to be alone right now." He patted her hand affectionately, relieving on the innocence she emanated.
"Hey! Coffee ain't even ready!"
"Mebbe y' should save dat for Logan, I've a feelin' he'll need it. Wit' de dinosaurs an' all." He chuckled and she slapped his arm.
"I'll make ya watch it too if ya keep it up!"
"Non, petite. Remy already saw it. Y' make me watch dat an' I make y' watch a French film."
"No way! What do ya want me to fall into a coma?!" she covered his mouth with her hands, shocked. "Remy...I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..." Remy cocked his head. It took him a few moments to understand the child's embarrassment.
"Petite, Remy ain' traumatized by dat. Y' didn' say rien wrong, D'accord?" he said kindly, standing up and feeling relieved that the room wasn't spinning anymore. Though his head was still a little fuzzy. Jubilee flashed him a bright smile.
"Phew! See? Yer so cool! There's some sensitive wussies around here, lemme tell ya! But not the Cajun!"
"Now y' hurt me, petite. Remy has feelings." He said mock serious, dramatically placing a hand on his heart, "If y' hurt Remy, doesn' he bleed? If he's sad, doesn' he cry?"
"Shut up, Gumbo! Yer making my stomach hurt!" she said between fits of laughter.
She turned away from him, fixing some snacks for her movie experience. He watched her from the door feeling happy; he knew the feelings were alien, but he didn't care. Something she'd say reverberated in his mind... 'yer family'... she'd said. He didn't know if that was true, but he did know that he loved them all as if it was. They were his family. And he hadn't been a family to them. He'd kept himself from them. He hadn't trust them in fear of loosing their trust.
"Still here Gumbo? Make yourself useful, eh? Pass me the mustard, will ya?" she said, without turning her back, slicing a piece bread.
He steadied himself and begun walking towards the refrigerator when the door opened abruptly and the mustard leapt from the shelf landing on the counter.
"Hey Watch it Cajun! You almost hit me! What are ya, Bobby now?" she turned around mock anger, but her expression changed upon seeing the pale, astonished face of her friend. She ran to her side, thinking he was going to pass out.
"Hey, Gumbo, ya alright?" Remy stared at the mustard. 'I did dat!!!' he thought, feeling the floor moving again. 'How did I do dat?!?'
"Gumbo, ya look like yer about to pass out. Want me to walk ya to yer bedroom? I can ask someone to help ya up, what do ya say?" Remy nodded at first, blinking, but then he shook his head.
"I'm alright, petite. Feel a li'l dizzy, is all. I better go to bed early today." He said in a whisper.
"Ya do dat. Ya look like shit, I tell ya." She laughed. He only turned around, and slowly, dazed, begun walking out the kitchen.
"Bon nuit petite." He said in a monotonous tone. 'I did that?!' he thought.
'Yes' another part of his brain answered. He just shook his head. He heard a faint, "Night Gumbo." Coming from behind him. He was too drunk to think right now. That had to be it. His eyes were playing tricks on him.
He climbed the stairs slowly. He hoped it was just his imagination. But he knew it hadn't been.
"Merde!" he whispered, closing his bedroom door fast behind him, shielding himself from everyone. "I've to find out what's goin' on. Remy's gonna get caught if he doesn' find out soon."
He slumped on the bed. He knew his mind and his heart had already made a decision, he just hoped they would let him know what that was soon enough.
"Mebbe tomorrow."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
