Chapter 6: Hurt Feelings

Remy stuck his head into Rogue's room as she and Storm were getting ready to go out. "Min' if Remy go wit' you to de mall?" he said, trying to look innocent.

Rogue looked at him curiously." What yah wanna go wi' us for, sugah?"

He hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to tell Rogue what he had planned, but decided what the hell. "Remy wan' buy de p'tite a gif'."

"Who, your li'l assassin friend?" Rogue cracked.

He gave her a dirty look. "Yes," he said.

Rogue stepped up to him. In the few days since he'd met the woman, he'd been talking about her almost incessantly. She was now sick and tired of hearing about the woman. Last night, lying awake in her bed, she'd admitted to herself that yes, she was jealous, and yet she didn't think she had a right to be. "Grow up, Remy," she snapped at him, poking her gloved finger into his chest. "Ya bin tawkin' about that girl all week like she's the greatest thing you evah seen. I got news for yah; I don't wanna hear about her no more!" She turned on her hell, brushed rudely past him, and fled down the hall.

Remy looked after her, watching as she disappeared down the stairs. "What wrong wit' her?" he asked Storm, puzzled.

Storm, who had been watching silently, struggled to find words. If this were anyone else, she'd be laughing, but this was two of her closest friends, and she tried to be diplomatic. "Remy, she's a little tired of hearing about Catryne," she said seriously, turning to look at him. "It's only been two weeks since you and she broke up…again," she said, looking annoyed. "Rogue doesn't get over things like this as easily as you seem to do."

"Dat it?" he looked surprised.

"Well, the fact that you never officially said it was 'over' might have something to do with it too," she said.

Remy turned and sprinted down the hall, looking for Rogue. Down one flight of steps; no Rogue. To the first floor, then; still no Rogue. He ran into Logan walking out of the kitchen holding a sandwich. "Logan! Did Rogue come dis way?" he asked.

Logan shook his head. "No, but I been lookin' fer ya," he said. "Come on. It'll only be a minute." He stepped back into the kitchen, and Remy followed him.

Inside, Jean and Scott sat at the table with their sandwiches. He looked at Logan. "You got Jean into dis too?"

Jean telekinetically pulled out a chair. "Gambit, sit down," she suggested.

He sat down and crossed his arms, waiting for them to say something.

Jean looked uncertainly at Scott. He looked back at her, his expression unreadable behind his ruby quartz glasses. She shrugged and started. "Remy, we've been hearing you talk about Cat all week," she said. "And I don't think you've stopped to think what it's doing to Rogue."

"Doin' to her?" he asked, puzzled.

Jean cleared her throat delicately. "Well, the two of you never really called it quits," she said. "We all knew you came back from dinner a few weeks ago mad at each other, but you never said it was 'over' before you went and found Cat. You really need to tie up that loose end before you move on."

Remy blinked. "But we're not 'over'," he said in astonishment. "I jus' flirtin' wit' Cat. Rogue de only one for me, you all know dat."

Logan growled. Scott crossed his arms.

Jean voiced what the two men were thinking. "Then I don't think that's exactly fair to Catryne. She might not be a mutant, Remy, but she's still human. She's got feelings that can be hurt if she finds out she was just a 'distraction' for you."

He sat there for a moment, digesting that, then nodded. "I'm goin' to go fin' Rogue," he declared, getting up.

"She's out in the garden," Jean said.

After he was gone she stared Logan and Scott down. "Not a word," she warned. "Don't you dare start cracking on him. Logan, you did the same thing with that girl a few months ago, what was her name? Melissa? Broke up with her and went out with her best friend two days later? And you didn't tell her you two were over either."

"She knew it was over," Logan said amiably, leaning back in his chair with a particularly devilish grin on his face. "She was a hooker."

Jean's jaw dropped. Logan burst out laughing. Scott tried to keep a straight face, but ended up laughing too.

"You two!" Jean spluttered, got up with all the dignity of a queen, and marched out of the room.

Rogue was in the garden, just as Jean had said. "Ah doan wanna talk to yah, Remy," she declared, not looking at him. "Ya hurt mah feelin's."

"Den jus' listen, chere," he said, coming to a stop behind her. He began to sing.

"Here we are again.

I guess it must be fate.

We've tried it on our own

But deep inside we've known

We'd be back to set things straight…"

Rogue turned to look at him, her green eyes filling with tears, and he plunged on.

"After all the stops and starts

We keep coming back to these two hearts

Two angels who've been

Rescued from the fall

And after all that we've been through

It all comes down to me and you

I guess it's meant to be

Forever you and me after all."

She sighed as he finished, and came forward to hug him, anger gone. "Ah'm sorry, Remy," she said.

He brought his hand up to stroke her back, feeling warm skin through the thin fabric of her shirt. "F'r what, chere? Remy de one who's sorry. I didn' t'ink what you were going t'rough."

"Ah knew you weren't serious 'bout Cat. And ah went an' got mad at yah anyway."

Remy patted her back gently. "Remy be sorry too, chere. Remy been playin' wit' two girls, an' I wasn' bein' fair to eit'er one o' you."

There was silence for a moment, then she said, 'Are yah goin' ta see her today?"

"I guess I better, non? Remy got some explainin' t'do."

Remy took a last puff of his cigarette and tossed the stub away, then got out of his truck and made his way up the three flights of steps to Cat's apartment. He knocked twice and waited.

The door didn't open. Puzzled, he knocked again. Her motorcycle was in its usual spot, and her car, a little blue Miata, was parked in its place. He knocked again.

A dreadful thought crossed his mind. What if something had gone wrong with her 'business" the night before? He could think of a lot of things that could go wrong with an assassin's work.

He retraced his steps to the by-now-familiar route up the fire escape, and ascended quickly. He pulled open the window and stepped inside.

The smell of blood hit him as soon as he stepped inside. He looked around in disbelief. Blood smears on the carpet led off to the right, into the bathroom. He ran to the door.

Cat lay huddled on the floor. She was wearing the blue dress she had worn on their date, but now it was shredded, torn and bloody. He knelt next to her and turned her over. "Cat," he whispered, shocked.

Her entire body was covered with bloody red welts, and there was an angry red R burned into one of those smooth perfect breasts. Her face was flushed, her breathing erratic, but her hands were ice cold. "Mon Dieu," he cried softly, "What happen to you?"

Her eyes fluttered open, and her glazed eyes focused on him. "Remy?" she moaned. She tugged the shreds of her dress around her in a futile attempt to cover herself, but gave up the attempt. "Go away," she sobbed, her eyes wild and her face flushed, "please go away, I don't want you to see me like this, oh God I hurt…" her voice trailed off.

"Not goin' anywhere, p'tite," he said, keeping his voice pitched low and soothing. He leaned down to help her up, but she shrank away from him and cringed back against the tub shaking with sobs. He ignored it, taking her under the arms, trying not to touch the welts, and helped her up. He led her, step by step, into her bedroom, threw back the covers and laid her down on the bed, then picked up her bedside phone and dialed the mansion's number.

Rogue and Storm were in the kitchen putting a load of groceries in the refrigerator when the phone rang. "Charles Xavier's residence," Storm answered.

Remy sounded frantic when he spoke. "'Ro, where be Hank?"

"In his lab, I believe," she said. "What is wrong?"

"Remy come in here an' fin' her, mon dieu, she be all torn up, someone beat her bad, I didn' wan' to move her so Hank gotta come here an' take a look at her--"

"Remy, slow down," she said. "Found who?"

"Cat," he said desperately, and took a deep breath. "'Ro, I came to talk to her, an' when she didn' open her door I wen' in anyway. She was lyin' in her bat'room, bleedin' on de floor, an' her body be all torn up…She need a doctor bad, but dere be odd questions if I call de police."

"Hank and I will be right there," she said.

"Hurry! We're at de Town an' Country apartments." and Remy hung up.

She turned, to see Rogue looking at her. "Something terrible happened to Cat," she answered the questioning look. "Remy was unwilling to call the police. He wants us to bring Hank there to check her out."

"Ah'll go get the van ready," Rogue said. "You go an' get Hank."

It took almost a half an hour to get to the apartment complex Gambit had specified, and the trio got a few odd looks as they alighted from the van. Hank took the steps at a dead run, two at a time, as they groaned at the weight. Rogue knocked, and the door was pulled open by a very worried Gambit.

"T'ank de Lor' you're here," he said to Hank, who was carrying his medical bag. "She in de bedroom." He showed Hank and the two women into the room.

After he had gotten off the phone with Storm he'd taken the shredded clothing off as carefully as he could, dampened a kitchen towel and tried to clean her off. The worst of the blood and mud was off her skin, revealing her wounds. Hank bent over her immediately, his lips thinning into a compressed lie as he examined the wounds, oblivious to the fact that she was nude. The sheets under her were bloody, and he asked Remy, "Do the lacerations cover her back as well?"

Rogue helped Remy turn the unconscious body over so Hank could inspect the woman's back. She was shocked. She had wanted to meet the girl, but not like this!

Hank gave a distressed tsk noise and reached into his bag. "The surface lacerations are superficial," he said to Remy, "But the brand on her chest is infected. I'm going to start her on a course of antibiotics to combat the infection. I wish I could take her to the mansion, but for I now I believe it best that she not be moved."

Remy blinked, struck by what Hank had said. "A brand?"

"I find it difficult to believe that the burn could have accidentally arranged itself into so definite a shape," Hank said grimly. "Or that she would have inflicted such pain upon herself. No, someone else injured her, most likely while she was restrained and unable to defend herself, judging by the abrasions on her wrists."

Remy looked positively anguished at this news. "I should have made her tell me what was wrong when I see her las'," he said, more to himself than the others. Rogue placed a gentle hand on his back.

"Don' worry, Remy," she comforted him. "She'll pull through. We'll take turns staying here an' watchin' her till Hank says she's gonna be okay."

He nodded. "An excellent idea," he said. "I believe I will return to the mansion, then, and pick up a few more items I need from the lab. "Ro, will you drive me?"

"Certainly," and they left.

Rogue touched Gambit's arm. "Don' blame yahself, sugah," she said. "Ain't gonna do her any good, an you just goin to make yehself miserable. Come on. The infection won' go away if she jus lays there on dirty sheets."

So Gambit held Cat as Rogue stripped the sheets from her bed, and laid towels on the mattress instead. When he looked questioningly at her, he said, "It's gonna be easier ta change towels than the bed, sugah."

He nodded in comprehension.

Cat opened her eyes. For a moment all she saw was white ceiling above her, then as she turned her head she saw her dresser, her closet, her lamp. She thought back, and dimly remembered climbing into her window and getting into her bathroom before she passed out. There was a dim, fevered recollection of Remy coming in, talking to her, and she fuzzily remembered that she had told him to go away.

She lay back on her bed for a moment, mentally cataloguing her injuries. She couldn't feel anything. She opened her eyes, weakly pushed the blanket draped over her body, and pulled up the oversized T-shirt someone had dressed her in, and examined her skin. There were very few open welts left, most were scabbed over and partially healed. She bit her lip at the thick bandage taped over the brand on her chest. Her hands shook as she pulled it back.

Underneath, the skin was an angry red, the edges of the brand swollen and throbbing. She grimaced and replaced the bandage, then pushed the blankets back and sat up. She stood gingerly, found her balance, and walked to the door. She had opened it and almost stepped out when she heard voices. She stopped as she heard one, a female voice with a pronounced Southern drawl, mention her name.

"…Cat's goin' ta be upset," said the woman, "but Ah doan think it's right to keep leadin' her on, Remy. She got feelin's that can be hurt too, even if she ain't a mutant lahk us."

'You're right, chere," Remy said, as Cat peeked around the door. He stood in her living room, next to a tall, beautiful woman with thick auburn curls and a vivid, exotic silver streak through them. As she watched, he pulled the other woman close, and she accepted the embrace with an easy familiarity that spoke of long association.

Cat bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears. She should have known that he had someone else in his life. He was too wonderful to not have someone already. He hadn't told her, either, and she felt a tear fall down her cheek. That broke the dam, and she sobbed.

Remy turned as he heard the strangled sob from behind the door. He ran to it, opened it, and saw Cat slumped to the floor, her face buried in her hands. She had heard them.

"P'tite," he whispered, trying to pull her hands from her face so he could look into her eyes, "Cat, look at me, please. I didn' mean to hurt you, really…"

She pulled away from him, going to her dresser and finding a pair of jeans, pulling them on over her welted, sore legs. "I should have known," she spat angrily, using her anger to combat the agony from the rough fabric touching the still-raw welts. "Very few people take out contracts on someone who doesn't deserve them. When Belladonna came to us to put a contract on your life I accepted it, not knowing what you were like. Then I met you, and I started to think she was mistaken, that you weren't the cold-blooded murderer of her brother that she told us you were. I told the Master that I didn't think you deserved to die, that she must be mistaken, and got punished for my pains. I went out with you to the restaurant, and I saw him there, and I knew he'd seen us, and he'd be angry. I should have left right there, shouldn't I?

"Instead I stayed with you! I made love to you that night, remember? And the Master found out, called me to him, and punished me. I took it, damn you, I took it! He whipped me all over and then branded me for defying him and for loving you. And I was just a distraction for you, wasn't I? You, the all-powerful mutant, playing with me and my feelings. Well, I was wrong about you. I thought you really cared. You're no different from anyone I've ever taken out." She picked up her purse, hissing with pain as it hit her raw back. "Don't follow me. I'll fulfil my contract and kill you if I ever see you again." And with that she stalked out of her bedroom, slipping on her shoes and opened her door. She slammed it behind her and headed for the garage. Moments later, Gambit watched from her window as her blue Miata screeched out of the parking garage.

He looked at Rogue. "Remy make a mess o' t'ings, non, chere?"