Chapter 2: Stillborn
The casket was so tiny, so intricate, Rogue had never seen anything quite like it, it barely looked big enough to contain a Barbie doll, let alone a child. The sight of it brought great sadness to the mutants who lived in the Xavier mansion that day of the funeral. No one gave excuses, everyone showed. Everyone that was, except for Bella Donna.
Rogue could barely believe the tragedy of it really, it left her cold all over, the cruelty of a death before a child had even been born – before it had even had time to live. The umbilical had been wrapped around the baby's neck upon a stillborn birth. Strangulation before ever having known the comfort of her mother – and father's arms. Before ever being able to open its virgin eyes and stare into the caring face of a parent.
Remy had been detached since the news, he'd barely said a word, and he'd been left broken when Bella Donna took off without even saying goodbye. She'd been gone minutes after the birth, according to the doctors. Rogue could barely believe Bella Donna could be so selfish – leaving Remy in the mess he was in, to deal with the funeral and the death of his own child. Rogue had tried to help, but Remy kept his distance from her, as if he didn't want her seeing him cry anymore.
Hank took care of all the funeral arrangements in the end, it was the least he could do. Everything was intricate and well thought out, Rogue had to hand it to Hank, he knew what to do in a crisis. And as he gave his eulogy at the funeral, his words poetic and touching, she felt tears escape her eyes herself.
She'd sat beside Remy during the service, her hand in his. She'd felt his hand grasp hers so tight it had hurt incredibly, she'd barely had time to concern herself that her powers had still not returned. It seemed as if her problems were miniscule next to the ones Remy was facing.
She watched Remy, whilst listening to Hanks words flow smoothly, meaningfully. Remy's hair stirring gently in the summer breeze, his eyes all cried out, they seemed dull, and almost lifeless, his skin almost sallow, but cleanly shaven. Completely clad in black. He looked like a broken man.
Rogue was afraid he might never recover.
After the funeral, everyone headed into the mansion. There should have been school, but the professor had cancelled lessons for today so that everyone might attend the funeral. The whole mansion seemed somewhat silent, as if everyone were afraid to even make noise today – knowing it would seem disrespectful.
Remy had disappeared off, and it took Rogue some time to find him – eventually located him in the garage, trying to fix an old motorcycle he'd bought from a scrap yard months back, it had never worked and he'd intended on fixing it a long time ago, but had never gotten around to it.
And there he was in his best suit, the jacket thrown across the handlebars, he was on his knees on the dirty floor, his black shirt sleeves rolled up, oil smeared on his face. It seemed as if he were trying to distract himself from the pain he was feeling – or from thinking about it again.
Rogue wandered in. She was wearing a very plain black blouse, and a pair of black flared pants, she saw her reflection in the windows of the X-Men's van parked nearby. She looked just as tired and thin, and as cried out as Remy did, the only difference was that she hadn't lost a child – he had.
She walked over and sat on the hood of Scott's parked car, resting her elbows on her knees, she watched him, "How's it goin'?" she asked, not sure how to approach conversation by any other words.
"Think it needs a new transmission unit, I'm not sure yet," he wiped his sweating brow, smearing more oil onto his face accidentally. "Looks like it could do with a new brake also…" he admitted quickly.
Rogue watched him, "you know what I mean," she stated softly.
"Yes, I do," he retorted, "And I don't want to talk about it," Remy said quietly, he didn't want to talk nor think about it. He'd been through enough thinking about it since the day he'd found out his child was dead – and that Bella Donna had taken off.
Rogue watched him for a few moments more, "you sure?" she asked, the way he was bottling everything up inside she was convinced he needed to get it all out before it ate at him like a cancer – destroying his mind, which right now, seemed too fragile to withstand much more torment.
Remy sighed, "Look…I just don't understand why this had to happen, alright?!" He threw a wrench down on the floor, and it clattered loudly on the cement, echoing off the walls. "Why the fuck didn't she stay, Rogue?! Why did she run off?!" he demanded.
Bella Donna's taking off had been sudden, Remy hadn't even heard of the child's death yet, she'd been gone before he'd known, he couldn't even imagine how stupid a girl would have to be to have taken off only have giving birth. He figured she must have been in some degree of pain, and couldn't have gotten too far – he'd even looked, but had found nothing.
Rogue looked at him, and shrugged, "Maybe she was scared," she murmured, "or maybe she just couldn't face you…"
Remy wiped his hands off on an old rag and sat down on the hood of Scott's car beside her, "it was as if she didn't even care…"
Rogue looked at him, "I understand what you're going through…" she put her hand on his shoulder. Truth was though, she really didn't. She couldn't begin to comprehend what it felt like for Remy. All she had was a very vague idea, and her own suffering of the memories of five days previous when she'd been raped in a private bathroom in a nightclub.
He pulled away, "don't…" he held ups his hands as if in defence, "just don't sit there acting like you know what I'm going through, you know jack shit what I'm feeling right now," he got up and paced over the garage.
Rogue looked away, "Sorry…" she sighed, "I guess…that's the only thing I know how to say when there's a crisis I don't know how to handle…" she shrugged, "I can't imagine what you're going through…" she looked at him.
"Did you tell the professor, yet?" Remy asked suddenly, looking at her, suddenly changing the subject from his problem to hers.
"Did I tell the professor what?" Rogue asked, she tucked her hair behind her ear, looking at him seriously.
"That you got raped," Remy said bluntly, he tossed the rag he'd been wiping his hands on to the floor, and knelt down beside the broken motorcycle.
Rogue gaped at him, "why are you changing the subject, this isn't about me," she stood up. "We just buried your daughter today," Rogue's mouth dropped, "my problems don't even MATTER compared to this…" she looked at him tearfully.
"I have my problems, you have yours. Don't come here trying to sort out my problems when your own need attending to," He said, and with that, he went back to trying to fix the motorcycle. "If you don't tell the professor what happened, I will," he added sternly, never glancing back to her.
Rogue sighed and left the garage.