Nope, that's not chapter 5, it's really chapter 4… I've decided it would be less trouble just making it as a new chapter and leaving the note there, and eventualy just remove the note… Good news! I updated my storyline (I swear, it's two pages long…), and it's now official, Rogue is appearing in the next chapter. And now that I've promised it, I'm holding on to my word, and will put her in there, even if I have to write the longest chapter in my whole fanfiction writing experience. Speaking of long chapters… This one is kinda short, but I didn't really need something longer. Besides, I'll take a deep breath and go to sleep, so tomorrow I'll be fresh as bread (yup, fresh bread is good) to write chapter 5. Now read! And review, of course. Oh, and there's something I always wanted to try, just to see what it would do… If chapter 5 never comes out, you'll know why. Hem hem. *climbs on the roof and yells* All of the characters in that story are my creation, and are used with lots of profits, so I'm rich. Of course, I'm writing fanfiction only for fun, and because I have pity of you. *cough* It's okay to dream, right?

Enjoy! It's an order!

Rash

"Shhh, chéri, let it all out" Belle whispered in Sylvain's ear, gently rubbing his back as he coughed even louder, a tearing sound that made her heart clench in worry. Next to her, sitting on a pillow, Julien was bawling his eyes out, his little face flushed in anger as he used his vocal cords to their maximum strength. "Please, do shut up, child…" a woman nearby said, crunching near Julien and petting his head like he was a stupid dog. Belle glared up at the woman.

"Leave him alone, please. He's sick, and only one year old."

"But he's annoying" the woman weaned. Belle repressed the urge of punching the woman in the face, but she continued despite Belle's look. "You don't hear my children complaining all the time…"

"Back off, woman. Leave us alone." The woman snorted and, raising her nose in the air, walked away. Belle gave up a sigh of relief, and Mercy sat down next to her. She reached out and touched Sylvain's forehead, a worried look on her face.

"He's not feeling any better, huh?" She was answered with chest tearing coughing, and Belle winced at the sound. She hugged her son closer with an arm, and gathered Julien near her with the other. Mercy bent over her and picked up the baby, whispering soothing words in his ears.

"It's getting worse", Belle answered, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "I hope we can get on shore soon, so he can see a healer…"

"The ship only sailed yesterday, Belle. I hope we're not going too far. Maine would be good…" Belle looked up at the sea, where no land could be seen. Gulls were long gone, and there was nothing but deep, blue sea.

"I don't think so, Mercy." She hugged her son closer. Sylvain coughed again and lifted his arms to hug his mother's neck. Belle froze, and reached out a trembling hand to look at Sylvain's hand. His hands were white as marble, but she pulled back his sleeve, exposing bright red skin. She gasped and pulled back the sleeve over his arm, and squeezed her son hard against her chest, memories of a distant illness flooding in her mind. "Mercy…" she whispered, her voice almost inaudible. "Have you… have you ever had smallpox?" Mercy snapped her head up to look at her, then glanced at Sylvain, and then at the crying baby she held in her arms. She shivered, hair rising on her arms, and gathered the baby closer.

"Yes, I had, in 37*… Belle, you really think it could be smallpox? Maybe it's just the flu, you know…" Belle leaned closer to her and showed her the small rash on Sylvain's arm, and the one starting in his neck, tears in her eyes.

"I hope I'm wrong, Mercy."

"Maybe we should tell an officer…"

"Non!" Belle looked around, making sure nobody heard, and brought her voice down. "Mercy! They'll throw them overboard!" Mercy looked at her for a long moment, then a the many people standing on the deck, taking care of children, and chatting in hopes of forgetting that they had no idea where they were taken.

"Then we have to hide them. If they do have smallpox, we can't risk everyone catching it, it would be horrible… in the hold, maybe?" Belle glared at her, eyes full of pain.

"They need fresh air, Mercy… even I can't breathe in the hold, imagine a sick baby." Mercy looked down at the child in her arms, and sighed. "Where are Alexandre and Éloïse?" Belle asked, suddenly looking around her.

"They're with Thomas and Louise, over there." Mercy pointed the other side of the deck, and Belle sighed.

"They have to stay away from their brothers, until they feel better." Mercy glanced at Belle, frantically rocking her son in her arms, obvious to his squirming and coughing.

"Belle…" She put a hand on the younger woman's shoulder, and wide, scared blue eyes looked up at her. With her skill at raising her family and her attitude, it was easy forgetting that Belle was still very young.** Mercy felt bad for the poor girl, and thankful that her kids were feeling well. "Belle, we'll find a way. All they need is fresh air, rest and a lot of water."

Belle nodded and got up, the shaking body of her three years old in her arms, and Mercy stood up with baby Julien. They we silently walking to the back of the boat when someone stood in front of them. Belle looked up in lt. Wolfe's eyes, and nearly sighed in annoyance. He looked at her, suspicious blue eyes under bushy brows. "You need some help, m'am?" It sounded kind enough, and she dropped her guard a little.

"Mes… my chile… Ils sont malades, ils ont la grippe." [My… my children…They're sick, they have the flu.] Logan looked down at the now sleeping baby in her arms, flushed with fever. His expression softened.

"They're sick? What did you say…? The grip? What's that? The flu?" Belle nodded frantically, and, resting the baby's weight on her waist, she raised her right hand, and mimed drinking.

"De flew…Ils ont besoin d'eau… de l'eau…" [They need some water… water…] Logan nodded, and looked sadly at the small children in the women's arms.

"Water, I can see that… but it's rationed, m'am. I'm sorry, I can't give you more. Everyone's sick on that boat." She couldn't understand his words, but she understood the sad shaking of his head, and looked down at Julien, tears in her eyes.

"Alors… je lui donnerai la mienne." [Okay then… I'll give him mine.]

~~ (Three weeks later)

Lt. Wolfe looked sadly at the fifteen bodies laying on the deck, wrapped in linen blankets, and waiting to be thrown at the see. In three weeks, smallpox had appeared on the boat, and many had died, the bodies in front of him not being the first, and probably not the last. They had quarantined the sick in the hold, trying to keep away the illness, and they hadn't had any new cases in the last three days. Logan's eyes drifted against his will to the four smaller bundles of blankets, small children hit hard by the illness. Two of them had died in the space of a week, and the two others, God knows for what horrible reasons, suffered the rash and illness for over twenty days of pain. He sighed, and repressed the need to touch the smallest of the deceased children, a small one year old boy.

A few minutes later, when they threw the bodies overboard, Logan Wolfe clenched his hands into fists at his sides. And when one of the sailors took the smallest body, he looked away, only to have his heart tore in two as a young mother fell on her knees, howling and crying, clutching her two remaining children against her chest, her long blonde hair falling over their heads.

* There wasn't really an epidemic of smallpox in Acadia in 1737. I just needed one so Mercy and Belle couldn't catch it on the boat, that would suck. And yes, it is possible to have smallpox and survive. In normal conditions, only 30% die.

** Belle was 17 in 1749, when she married Remy, so she was born in 1732. At the Deportation, in 1755, she's 23, and mother of four. Even in these years, it's still very young.

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foofighta : Don't make you cry? You really think that if I had the power to make people cry over my stories, I wouldn't use it? Be prepared to cry, honey. The worse is yet to come. Told yah life wouldn't be easy for our favorite Cajun… Acadian… whatever.

ishandahalf : Calm down! Don't panic! You really though I would have bothered mentionning Rogue, if I didn't have the intention of making her romanticaly involved with Remy? *motherly smooths back ishandahalf's hair and gently pats her back* There there. There's nothing to be afraid of. It was only a nightmare, you imagine bad, bad things… You only have one thing to think about, darling… Sherston. Remember that name. You won't be dissapointed, dear romy fan. It's a promise. Now, have a cookie (careful! They're still hot hot hot!) and a glass of milk. One is good… but two is better.

LEM : Oh, but the accent Cajuns have today, and the accent Acadians had in the 18th century is very different… In fact, today Acadians (in fact, they're more like Nova Scots (or whatever they're called)) still have pretty much the same accent they had 200 years ago, but the Cajuns got influenced by Spanish (who owned Louisiana when the Acadians came) and English, so the two languages are kinda different today. If I dared using one of the accents when they talked french (which is useless, since I put into English everything they say), I'd use the Acadian accent, which is more accurate, and which I know better than the Cajun accent. When Remy will talk English (which he will learn to do in the following chapters), I'll use his regular charming accent, I promise!