Chapter 6: Turn it Around
Rogue stepped through the double doors of the "Two Dogs" public House five miles west of the Mutant Research Centre, she kept a confident stride knowing she had nothing to fear, it wasn't like anyone could physically throw her out of a bar for being underage, she had more strength than most of the patrons put together.
She was on a mission – to find Remy LeBeau.
It was the only place she could think of that he would go to in a half-assed attempt to avoid her.
As she stepped in she noted the place was about as earthy as bars came, with dull brown walls, a brown wooden floor, and grimy looking tables. The smell of alcohol was strong, and the music was nothing short of lame. She glanced around her. Most of the patrons looked like they belonged there, with their plaid shirts, bad haircuts and self-made tattoos. Remy LeBeau, looking sharper and more stylish – and noticeably younger than the other patrons, stood out.
He was sitting at a table on his own, three empty shot glasses in front of him, and a large pint of lager in his hand, his hair hanging in front of his eyes to hide that he was a mutant. The collar of his leather trenchcoat slightly up. He stood out like a sore thumb. Rogue realised she did too, as most of the patrons looked at her curiously with drunken glares and mouths hanging open. She crossed the room assertively, and dropped into a chair on the other side of Remy's table, right opposite him.
Remy LeBeau did not even raise his eyes from his glass, but he was aware of Rogue's presence. "What," he muttered, it wasn't even a question, it was just a statement, and hostility still tainted his voice.
"We need to talk," Rogue said, she picked up one of the shot glasses and glanced into it, there was a bright reddish liquid slightly staining the glass. She sniffed the glass, "this smells like mouthwash," she remarked.
"Try it, its very good," he muttered.
"Are…you okay?" Rogue looked at him.
"What do you think?" He asked of her.
"I think you're not okay, I think you're feelin' pretty betrayed," Rogue admitted, she put the glass down, "and I don't think sittin' here all day drinking beer and shots is going to make you feel any better either," she looked at him.
Remy gave a nonchalant shrug.
"Now you know how it feels to be betrayed…" Rogue said.
He gave another shrug, never raising his eyes to glance at her.
"In a way, now we're even," Rogue shrugged.
Remy didn't say anything.
Rogue reached over and placed her hand upon his, he
didn't move, "Oh come on, Remy, you can give as good as you get," she reminded,
"its not like you're Mr perfect, is it?"
"I know I'm not perfect,
Chere," Remy remarked, he glanced up at her, "I don't need you reminding me."
"Why is it such a big deal?" Rogue demanded, "so what if I thought you had something to do with the break in at the Lab. You have to admit, only someone like you COULD have done it."
"Don't you think that worries me?" Remy looked at her, "if Hank knew about me bein' a Thief in the past, I'd have been the prime suspect for sure," he looked down at their hands, her hand upon his, he turned his hand around under hers, their finger tips touching lightly, only her cotton gloves between their fingers.
Rogue drew her breath, "forgive me?" she murmured.
"I find it odd you're asking me for forgiveness…" he sighed, he took his hand out from under hers, and stood up, heading for the door.
Rogue got up and followed him, "Where are you going?"
"I don't know, leaving I guess…"
"The X-Men?" Rogue demanded.
"Yes, the X-Men."
"NO!" Rogue followed him outside and she grabbed a hold of his wrist, "You've come too far, you're one of us now…" She turned him towards her, and took a hold of his other wrist, to keep him from leaving her.
Remy gave a very deep sigh, he looked away from her, away to the fields surrounding the pub.
Rogue let go of his wrists and she placed her gloved hands on his face, "what if I said I'd forgive you?" she asked.
Remy's eyes shot to hers instantly, "Huh?" he looked at her, "you're joking right, you can't just forgive me to make me stay…" he moved away from her and sat on a nearby wall that stood about three feet off the ground.
Rogue sat beside him, "what would you do if you left the X-Men?"
"Probably do what you wanted me to do in the first place, go back to New Orleans, be with Bella Donna…" he shrugged.
"You don't love her though…" Rogue pointed out.
"Does it make a difference?" he asked.
Rogue put her hand on her shoulder, "to me it does."
"What you sayin'?"
"I'm sayin'…I don't know…I'm sayin' that maybe, there's a very SMALL chance…that I might…be in love with you," She said shyly, and quietly, it was almost barely audible, but he heard it. "But you know that…there's not much I can do about it."
"If you loved me you'd have never went into my room," Remy looked away from her.
"I needed to verify – for myself – that I could trust you," Rogue admitted.
"I think I need time to get my head round all of this…" he looked away into the distance, his expression aloof. "This whole thing just can't go away, we can't just turn it around suddenly…"
"I…understand…" Rogue nodded.
"I…think I'm gonna go back to New Orleans for a while," he admitted, "and when I'm ready…I'll come back to the X-Men," he looked at her.
"Right…" Rogue looked away, feeling slightly disappointed.
"I will be back though…" he admitted.
"Promise?" Rogue asked.
"Yeah…" Remy nodded, "I promise…"
"If you aren't back in at least three months, I'm gonna come lookin' for you, you know," she looked at him.
"Okay," He looked at her, "Three months…that should give me enough time to get myself sorted out…"
"And to break it off with Bella Donna," Rogue looked at him.
"Yes…definitely," Remy nodded.
"If you don't break it off with her, I don't see how me and you could…even begin to think…about…bein' together."
"So…if I do…then there's a definite chance we're going to give this a try?" He looked at her.
"As long as we can with stand the Professor and Hank trying to keep us apart 'cause of our age difference," Rogue added.
"That can be overcome somehow," Remy stated. "Well…I'm gonna go get packed, get a boat out to the mainland, catch a plane out of Scotland and get my life sorted," he stood up.
"Want me to go with you?" Rogue queried.
"Its best I go alone," Remy stated, "this is stuff I need to handle alone. Besides, you better get back to the Centre before the others start coming out lookin' for you," Remy looked at her.
Rogue stood up too, "three months," She reminded.
"Three months," He nodded in agreement.
"Alright," she nodded, she wanted to fling herself into his arms and beg him not to leave, but she knew it wouldn't be very fitting for her.
"Three months," he murmured, looking at her with those intense eyes of hers, he took her hand and held it tightly within his own, as if this were a deal they were shaking upon.
And with that, he left her, she watched him walk, and she remained standing, until he became no more than a small black dot moving across the field in the distance heading towards the housing district and the pier.
Rogue held her breath and to herself whispered, "three months…"
The end (or is it…?)
