Chapter 2: The Big Mistake
He'd typed in the same four first lines of his report over thirteen times, and deleted them, his concentration slipping constantly to Carmel, who was standing by a counter top in the lab, using a dropper to add tiny globules of blood to a chemical onto a small clear glass plate, then putting it under a microscope to examine. He sighed and glanced down to his notes for what he'd been doing in the laboratory that day. Truthfully, he didn't have a clue what he was doing, although he faked this extremely well, thanks to some tips given by Sean and Moira.
It was Monday evening,
The weekend had passed quickly, and he'd spent all his time watching made for TV movies on Saturday and reruns of 'Eastenders' on Sunday. All the while never concentrating on storylines, the only thing he could keep his mind focused on was Rogue.
Was it really over? Could it really be over? And if it was, what was he going to do with the rest of his life. If it really was over, was it worth trying to avenge her rape by making sure MutantX manufacturing was stopped once and for all? Of course it was…but…at the same time, his hard work would seem all the more empty if it was over.
He logged onto internet explorer on the computer, hoping Carmel would not notice him using the computer for personal reasons, he logged onto his email address through hotmail, nothing new in his inbox, nothing at all, no email from Rogue saying she was sorry and that she wanted him back, no emails saying she wanted to talk to him about their last argument. Nothing.
Nothing except older emails, the ones he'd received from her with her love and desperation to see him again. It had seemed so long ago now.
"Email, huh?"
Remy turned, realising Carmel was at his back, looking at the screen, he sighed, "just checking," he closed the internet explorer window quickly, "been expecting an email for along time – received nothing."
"Who from?" Carmel sat on the desk, her beautiful long legs flexed from her short brown skirt.
"Just a silly girl," Remy sighed brokenheartedly, he went back to try to do his report.
"You've been burned, haven't ya," Carmel folded her arms casually, she looked at him with those glittering hazel eyes, and for a moment, as he looked back at her, he became entranced, and the part of him that was very much human – and male – became enticed once again.
"Burned, scarred and tortured more like," Remy remarked bitterly, "or just plain HURT," he growled more at himself than at Carmel.
"You don't seem like the type of guy to be hurt by a lover," Carmel remarked truthfully, she gave him a looking over. Remy realised what she meant, he was good looking, good looking guys were usually the ones to break hearts, not the other way around.
"Me and Rogue were a lot of things," Remy admitted, "but never lovers."
"Why not?" Carmel raised an eyebrow, Remy could see on her face she was trying to determine if it was possible that Remy might be a virgin, he hoped to god he didn't give anyone that impression, even if he was just playing a role while at the centre.
"Wasn't right," Remy shrugged, he tapped his fingers on the desk absently, trying not to appear too interested in Carmel's heaving bosom.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Carmel asked softly, her voice sweet, and honey like, her eyes meeting his for a moment.
"Not right now," he responded softly, looking down to the keyboard.
"You should move on," Carmel placed her hand lightly upon his shoulder, and she smiled at him.
"Probably," Remy gave a deep sigh and looked away from her, "but thing is, I just can't."
There was a twinkle in her eyes when Remy looked back at her, and her voice, so smooth, so seductive, came pouring out like delicious syrup. "I…can help."
Remy didn't understand what had come over him after Carmel had offered her help. Maybe it was vulnerability, maybe desperation, or maybe just lust, that found him three hours later laying undressed, in bed with her, exhaustion settled over him, yet sleep would not come.
She dozed peacefully at his side, he could feel her bare spine pressed against his hip, the warmth of the skin upon skin contact he had not felt for the longest time. He glanced over to her, her long curly hair splayed out on the pillow near his cheek, the scent of her shampoo faint to his senses.
Remy, at first, had thought that a woman's touch in the way he had not felt for months, might have stirred within him the feeling of complete and utter euphoria he'd been missing for what seemed like almost an eternity. Love making had been…good, but not spectacular – and it had not made him forget what he'd wanted to forget…if anything all it had done was remind him of promises made to another woman – to Rogue.
What am I doing laying here, having had sex with this woman, who I hardly know at all, when I wouldn't even take things to the next level with someone I've loved for a year? He asked himself, he looked up to the ceiling. Now, he was going to have to live with the guilt of this if ever he and Rogue should reconcile. How could he keep this a secret? He'd promised her time and time again there would be no more secrets.
Then again, why should this matter, wasn't it Rogue who had returned the ring, didn't that mean it was over? Why should he feel guilty if they weren't technically together?
He tried to reason with himself that he had nothing to feel guilty over, but it didn't help. If anything. He sat up, throwing the covers off himself, still not stirring the sleeping woman at his side. He got up, and dressed quietly, pulled on his long black leather trenchcoat, and left the room – and the centre, he needed a cigarette. He'd lit up the cigarette the moment he'd gotten outside, the thick smoke filling his lungs. He put his lighter in his silver tobacco case and looked at it, the metal cold against his fingers.
Rogue had given him the tobacco tin at Christmas, an Ace of Spades was engraved into one corner, and Remy's trademark was playing cards. He ran his fingers over the engraved corner and sighed.
God what have I done?! He asked of himself. He realised what he had done was throw away the love of Rogue for a very tawdry one night stand, and he had no plans of repeating it again. He felt stupid, especially after promising himself he wouldn't let himself be with Carmel only days before. Now here he was, he'd been with her, and it had been a mistake since the moment they'd kissed.
What does it matter? Remy wondered at himself viciously, Rogue is probably fucking that Jared prick right now. They've probably been fucking for the last two months, laughing at how stupid I am.
He put the tobacco case back in his pocket, he told himself to stop thinking this way. It was obviously over between him and Rogue, why should he care? Why should he be obligated to feel guilty about something that might not even be a crime technically.
How would he ever know though? There was only one way to know and that was by talking to Rogue. He knew there was no chance he'd ever be able to get her on the phone. She was probably intent on never speaking to him again. But at least if he emailed her…then maybe she could just hear his side of it. Maybe something was salvageable.
That's what I'll do, he thought finally, I'll email her, and ask her if we're over…and if we're not over, then…I'll see what can be done to save our relationship…if we aren't, then at least I'll know not to feel guilty…
He finished his cigarette and tossed it to the grass, he stomped it out, and then headed back inside to the research centre. Upstairs he went, to the staff living room. Since the Island was cut off from the rest of Scotland, most of the staff who were employed at the centre also resided in the upstairs dormitories, since late nights made it impossible to catch the ferries home, for this reason there was a full kitchen, living room, and bathrooms as well upstairs. The living room had a computer.
Remy entered the living room, the computer was in pieces on the floor, Ray Bullock, one of the resident research assistants, was on the floor kneeling with a piece of the computer in his hands. "Hmm…is it broken?" Remy asked in concern, he looked at all the pieces on the floor.
"Uh, I'll say," Ray sighed, "One of the fucking idiots from here – I won't say who – downloaded some sort of porn-program and it's installed a virus and totally fucked over the harddrive," he uttered, "thing kept shutting itself down, then suddenly everything was corrupted, tried formatting it, but its not letting me, so I'm having to replace it. For christs sake, this computer isn't even four months old yet."
Remy wished he understood more about computers, "I needed to send an email," he sighed, "is this the only computer in the centre?"
"There's the computers down in the lab," Ray reminded, "I don't think anyone would mind if you used one, as long as you cleared it with Mike – the security bloke – that you're going down there at this time."
Remy glanced at his watch, it was eleven pm, "Where's Sean and Moira?" He asked, he wondered if maybe he should clear it with them that he wanted to use the computer down there to send an email before even attempting to go down there.
"Out on a date – down to the Hen's Roost," Ray responded, Remy remembered the Hen's Roost being a very quaint little restaurant near the centre.
Remy nodded, "Okay, well, thanks," he said, and headed off. He went to the basement, locating the security man, he was a broad man in his late forties, with red hair and dark eyes, he was mean looking but good natured, Remy knocked at the threshold of the security room before entering, "Hey…"
Michael, the security man, raised an eyebrow, "yes?"
"Just reporting to you that I'm going into the lab to use one of the computers, I shouldn't be too long," Remy answered.
Michael unlocked a nearby drawer and pulled out a pass, "here you are," he stated, throwing the pass to Remy. It was a security pass, every day after work they were promptly returned to the security room to be locked away, another of Remy's brilliant ideas.
Remy put the cord of the pass around his neck and headed off, up a flight of stairs, down a corridor, and through all four security doors, down longer winding hallways, and finally reaching the laboratory door. He slipped his pass through the slot and typed in his access code into the nearby panel, glancing with an inspectors pride at all the hidden cameras watching him – the ones he'd installed. He took a quick glance just to make sure nothing was out of place.
A smash from the laboratory startled him, and he felt his heart thud, he flung himself in, yanking a handful of cards from his pocket, ready to strike.