Chapter 3: Crash & Splash
After the movie – which had been a rather interesting comedy-horror Rogue had already forgotten the name of, they left the mall, it had grown a little cold out.
"Wow, temperature dropped," Remy noted, he looked up to the sky, it was dark out now, and the air felt damp, as if it would rain – or was going to get foggy.
"Yeah…" Rogue hugged herself against the cold, because the weather had been warm lately she'd neglected bringing a jacket. Instead, she wore a pair of black pants, a black mesh top and a tiny tanktop underneath. She felt the chill against her skin, and shivered.
"Cold?"
"Kinda…" Rogue shrugged.
"Want my coat?" He queried motioning to the black leather trenchcoat he was wearing.
"Remy, your arms are bare under that thing, you'll be freezing, especially when you're on the bike…" Rogue admitted.
"You worried about me?" He looked at her hopefully.
"No, but I'd have a hard time explaining why its my fault you have a cold or something," Rogue walked slowly, him near her, she felt him at her back and his hands on her, and she jumped a little, but then realised he was putting his trenchcoat over her shoulders. "I told you I don't need it…" she looked at him.
"Just wear it and forget your pride for once," he remarked, lighting up a cigarette.
Rogue could feel the coat dragging along the ground, Remy being taller than she was, "how did you like the movie?" she asked casually, trying to make conversation.
"I thought it was alright, I've seen better…definitely seen worse," he stated, he took a drag of the cigarette.
Rogue walked by his side, "I didn't understand most of the humour in it," she admitted.
"Yeah, it was sort of weird," he shrugged, he kept walking slowly, smoking as he went.
"British Horror generally is," she stated, "its so different from American horror," she admitted thoughtfully. The horror had been some strange story about a British army troop in the highlands of Scotland being attacked and mutilated by werewolves.
"I agree," he remarked.
"What time is it?" Rogue asked.
Remy reached into the pocket of his leather pants, and yanked out his cellular phone, it had the time on it, "ten," he answered "Seems early," he added, slipping the phone back into his pocket
"Yeah, but by the time we get back to the Mansion it'll be almost eleven, I'm not meant to be out past them..."
"Rogue, you're sixteen, you can stay out past eleven you know," they walked in silence for a few more minutes, things seemed awkward between them.
"Remy…" Rogue said after a time.
"Chere?" Remy asked.
Rogue stopped walking, and turned towards him, he stopped too, and they were standing opposite each other, face to face.
"Do any of the others ask you why all of a sudden we're getting along?" she asked curiously.
"No…why?" he asked, took another puff of the cigarette, and exhaled the smoke through his nose.
"Kitty asks me about it a lot," Rogue shrugged casually, and began walking again.
"Did you tell her what I told you?" Remy seemed a little worried, he followed quickly.
"Of course I didn't…jeez, now who doesn't trust who?" She turned and smirked at him, she slipped her arms into the sleeves of his coat, enjoying how big it felt around her, how warm it felt, and how it smelt of his cologne.
Remy stopped as she did again, he reached out and fixed the collar of the coat so that it stood up a little to shield her neck from the cold, "I trust you."
"You hardly know me."
"I'm getting there," he said, "I know your name now," he grinned, "I know what your favourite soda is and your favourite ice cream," he pointed out – as he'd paid for those for her tonight. "And I know you like Ozzy Osbourne, Black Sabbath, and Creed," he stated.
"Those are trivial," Rogue shrugged, "most people know those things about me, except the name."
"Which makes it so that I do know you better than they do," he smirked, he put his arm around her shoulders and led her towards the bike, she didn't shrug his arm away, it did feel slightly unnerving, but she tolerated it – she wanted to tolerate it. She only wished it might have been Scott with his arm around her instead of Remy.
"Sometimes this doesn't feel right," Rogue admitted.
"What do you mean?" Remy flicked his cigarette away, it landed on the concrete ground, throwing an array of glowing ash across it, and it tumbled off in the wind out of sight.
"You and me – we're enemies, remember?" Rogue turned to him.
"Were," Remy shrugged, "you know I'm on your side."
"Do I?" Rogue asked, "sometimes, it doesn't add up to me, y'know…" she admitted, "sometimes I feel that there's got to be more to your story than you're telling me…"
Remy looked at her, "What about your story?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Rogue hugged herself insecurely, his arm drew her closer, she could see some people passing by glance at the two of them momentarily, and it felt nice, with Remy's arm around her made it look like she was special – and important enough – to have a boyfriend. But she didn't. Not really.
"I told you my story…you never told me yours," he pointed out, he shoved his free hand in the pocket of his pants, continuing to walk steadily, he could see the Harley up ahead.
"I can't tell you my story…because…some of it, I don't honestly know," Rogue shrugged. "Professor Xavier calls it repressed memories," she shrugged, "he can't even unlock it."
"How did you end up in Bayville…how did you end up with the X-Men? I know you were one of the Brotherhood once."
"I was…" Rogue shrugged, "this thing happened back home in Mississippi, I ended up knocking a guy unconscious when he accidentally touched me," she stated, "before that, I had no idea that I was a mutant," she explained, "there's a lot more to the story, but all I really wanna say is that with the X-Men, I feel safe," she shrugged, "took a while to get used to them, but…it feels like home with them…" she shrugged, "At first…I used to feel like…I was a misfit…but now…"
"Now you see everyone is a misfit, and it makes us all alike?" Remy asked, as if he were perhaps reading her mind.
Rogue turned to him, surprised, "yeah…exactly."
"Don't look so surprised, I sometimes feel the same way," he shrugged, he squeezed her shoulder, and then let go of her as they reached the bike, "Here," he said softly, handing her the helmet.
There was a loud quiver, thunder boomed in the sky, and seconds later, a downpour of rain came, loud against the cement of the parking lot.
Rogue pulled the helmet on, and climbed onto the bike behind Remy, holding onto him, "Sure you don't want your coat back now that it's raining?" she asked.
"I'm pretty sure," he started the bike up, and pulled out of the parking lot, and they sped off towards the country where the Mansion was located.
Rogue could feel Remy's stomach tighten as if he were nervous, generally he had excellent control over the Harley, but now, he seemed to be having trouble, "Everything alright?" she asked of him.
"Roads wet…" he pointed out, "bike isn't doing so good on this road.
Indeed it was not, Rogue could feel that Remy was having a hard time controlling the bike, suddenly she realised why, she looked to the sky and realised that there were hailstones coming down hard, tiny little balls of ice pelting at them hard. "Remy…maybe we should stop…"
"We need to get out of this weather, chere," Remy stated, "don't know when it will stop, and there's no nearby shelter now," he pointed out, they were on a very long country road which at the right side was a precipice overlooking a nearby lake. Rogue could see the lake rippling in the wind and hail, and the moonlight cast an eerie light over it.
Rogue held on tighter, "We can fly?" she asked.
"It'll be worse up there than it is down here, Chere," Remy pointed out, he was probably right, with the speed the hailstones were coming down at, being up any higher would probably make then an easy target for the brunt of the frozen rain.
Rogue looked on ahead over Remy's shoulder, she could see in the headlight that the roads were already becoming sludgy from the hail, a layer of sleet on the roads. She began to feel unsafe, "Dammit, I knew we shoulda taken the van!" she yelled at him.
"Lets not argue about this now, please don't distract me," he called back to her.
"Remy, we might crash, you're not even wearing a helmet!" Rogue shrieked, "pull over…"
Remy uttered a few swearwords under his breath, suddenly realising something.
"What is it?" Rogue called over his shoulder at him.
"Brakes aren't working…"
"Oh my god, you're kidding!" Rogue yelled at him frantically.
"No, the fucking brakes aren't working," he tried the brakes again, nothing happened.
Rogue was trying to figure out a safe way of getting them off of the road, the simplest seemed like flying, but she wasn't sure if she'd be able to hold the bike and Remy at the same time, she had nothing to grip onto at her back to hold onto the bike to pull it up. Before she had a chance to think any further, she suddenly realised the bike was skidding towards a sharp corner, the edge of the corner fenced off with flimsy wood.
"REMY!" she screamed, she gaped, the corner becoming closer, closer, she could see Remy desperately try to swing the bike to the side. She heard the loud crash the bike made against the wood, and she lost her grip on Remy altogether, shock pulsing through her veins, the bike soared into the air, towards the lake, and then it was falling, falling quickly towards the lake, and Rogue leapt off the bike before she was pulled down with it, and she caught herself in mid air, the back of the leather coat flowing behind her like a long black cape, feeling the wind and hail whipping around furiously around her.
She witnessed it the Harley Davidson plunge under the water with a massive splash, pulling Remy LeBeau down with it.