Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.
Intro: I wrote this a while back, based on the "What if Remy had
died in Madripoor?" question my cousin posed upon me. It needs a
rewrite, I guess, but I like it. It's named after a Kenny Chesney
song.
It had been six weeks since they buried him. Six weeks since they'd returned from Madripoor with heavy hearts, seven weeks since he had actually been delivered the fatal blow.
Six weeks and Rogue still hadn't said a word.
Rogue sat on a stone bench behind Xavier Institute, looking forlornly at the cherry tree that was his resting place. Six weeks and she had yet to shed a tear. Her inability to cry was killing her, too. So many nights she'd strayed about the edges of sleep, wondering if he'd have cried for her. If truth be told, she couldn't cry because the sting of it had yet to fade, the entirety of it had not yet sunk in.
It wasn't fair! For so long she had wished for her powers to be taken from her, just so she could touch him, just so she could totally embrace him instead of holding him at arms length. Now, her accursed mutation was gone, but so was he. Seems she could have one but not both.
Now, with nothing left to touch, she wanted her gifts back. Impossible scenarios played themselves in the back of her head.
If she could fly again...
If she could fly again, she'd fly up to heaven and find him and she'd grab his hand and carry him back down home and tell him she loved him all the way. She'd spend the rest of her life just telling him how much she needed him, how much she'd missed him when he was gone.
Even if she could fly, that wouldn't be possible. Heaven was open only to the dead and the living could not find it.
How could he leave her like that? How could he, after saying for so long that he'd always be there for her?
She was going to fly up to heaven. She was going to bring him back home.
Struggling against the mixed emotions that clogged her tear ducts, she took a glance down at the plaque again. He was too good, too perfect to be the name in the heading. It was just unfathomable that he could be anywhere besides sleeping in, covers having fallen on the floor, peacefully ignoring the alarm clock protesting for him to wake.
And yet it was so certain that he wasn't there. He was in a box beneath the cherry tree.
"Rogue?" Her eyebrows arched slightly, but that was Hank's only indication that she'd acknowledged him. "Rogue, I've just...I mean...I...I'm sorry." Hank sat down next to her.
"You couldn't save him." Rogue didn't put any emotion into the sentence, just stated it as a matter of fact. Her voice was quite and hoarse, a result of being mute for weeks.
"Rogue...Nobody could. He was too far gone." Hank sighed, his breath rustling through the fur on his chin.
Rogue suddenly tensed, balled her fist, furrowed her brow. "But Ah was so close, Ah coulda saved him, Ah was so close!" Everything about her was strained, even her speech, coming between excessively tight vocal cords.
"Rogue, there was nothing anybody could do." Hank felt almost frustrated. Rogue would spend forever torturing herself about things she couldn't change.
"Hank, you don't understand! Ah was so close, Ah was holdin' him back! Ah had his hand!" She stopped there, despair written across her angelic features. "Ah just...his hand slipped..." She ended helplessly, defeat in her eyes.
Hank leaned over and held her a second. She didn't weep, but she gratefully accepted his comfort, letting him rock her slowly back and forth.
"Are you s'posed ta feel in the astral plane?" She said, looking him in the eyes.
Confusion left it mark on Hank's features. "No, why?"
"Nothin'." She looked away. "Ah just wanted him to stay so much, and he wanted me to go with him so much, and we didn't even try ta meet in the middle."
Hank nodded, letting her bare her soul to him. She needed a confidant.
"But the look on his face when we let go.it was like didn't want ta leave anymore, like he was trying to get back to me." Rogue shuddered as a sudden chill rocked her spine.
For hours, they both sat there. The sun passed high-point and started to disappear behind the mansion. A cold wind whispered through the petals of the cherry tree, jarring a few loose and knocking them to fall to the ground. Hank finally spoke.
"Rogue? If you'll excuse me, it is of necessity that I go and finish a project." Rogue nodded, lost in the silence of it all. Hank left, turning his head every once in a while to see her still there, watching the grave. Finally, with a sigh, he entered the mansion and closed the door behind him.
She stayed there, hoping that she could have a sign, some kind of sign to tell her that her lover was okay, wherever he was. At this point, she was so desperate for some console she'd have taken a sudden split in the clouds or the sound of a bird chirping as some kind of sign. In the astral plane, she had felt, when she kissed him. He'd wanted her to feel it so much she had. He'd wanted their last moment to be tangible. And it had been. The most perfect experience she'd ever felt.
"Ah'm sorry." She looked at the headstone and felt the words roll off her tongue, as if they had just been right for the moment. She closed her eyes, breath coming fast as she choked up.
It wasn' your fault..
At that instant she felt someone beside her, his voice echoing inside her head. She knew she was just hallucinating, but she wanted to believe he was there so much that she didn't open her eyes to affirm it. She talked back.
"If it wasn't fer me you'd still be alive." Guilt crept into her head like a poison.
Dat's not true.
She wanted him to be there so badly. "Ah miss you."
I miss you too.
She loved him, but she'd had to lose everything to really realize it. She felt a warm presence beside her, close to her ear. "Why didn'tcha stay?"
Because it was my time, chere. It wasn' yours.
Like that explained much. "Ah'm sorry Ah didn't tell you enough before. Ah loved you and took you for granted."
I love you too, chere.
Rogue's conscience snapped. "Ah'm sorry! Ah'm sorry! Gawd, Remy, Ah'm so sorry! Ah'm sorry I didn't tell ya before! Ah'm so sorry!" She cried out, eyes snapping open as the guilt pervaded her thoughts. Howling apologies like a young child about to be beaten, she looked around and saw the empty seat next to her. "Ah'm sorry."
A cherry blossom lifted on the wind and floated over the stone bench. Rogue put her hands in her pockets against the cold. Something hard and thin struck her finger. Pulling out the Queen of Hearts, she began to cry.
It had been six weeks since they buried him. Six weeks since they'd returned from Madripoor with heavy hearts, seven weeks since he had actually been delivered the fatal blow.
Six weeks and Rogue still hadn't said a word.
Rogue sat on a stone bench behind Xavier Institute, looking forlornly at the cherry tree that was his resting place. Six weeks and she had yet to shed a tear. Her inability to cry was killing her, too. So many nights she'd strayed about the edges of sleep, wondering if he'd have cried for her. If truth be told, she couldn't cry because the sting of it had yet to fade, the entirety of it had not yet sunk in.
It wasn't fair! For so long she had wished for her powers to be taken from her, just so she could touch him, just so she could totally embrace him instead of holding him at arms length. Now, her accursed mutation was gone, but so was he. Seems she could have one but not both.
Now, with nothing left to touch, she wanted her gifts back. Impossible scenarios played themselves in the back of her head.
If she could fly again...
If she could fly again, she'd fly up to heaven and find him and she'd grab his hand and carry him back down home and tell him she loved him all the way. She'd spend the rest of her life just telling him how much she needed him, how much she'd missed him when he was gone.
Even if she could fly, that wouldn't be possible. Heaven was open only to the dead and the living could not find it.
How could he leave her like that? How could he, after saying for so long that he'd always be there for her?
She was going to fly up to heaven. She was going to bring him back home.
Struggling against the mixed emotions that clogged her tear ducts, she took a glance down at the plaque again. He was too good, too perfect to be the name in the heading. It was just unfathomable that he could be anywhere besides sleeping in, covers having fallen on the floor, peacefully ignoring the alarm clock protesting for him to wake.
And yet it was so certain that he wasn't there. He was in a box beneath the cherry tree.
"Rogue?" Her eyebrows arched slightly, but that was Hank's only indication that she'd acknowledged him. "Rogue, I've just...I mean...I...I'm sorry." Hank sat down next to her.
"You couldn't save him." Rogue didn't put any emotion into the sentence, just stated it as a matter of fact. Her voice was quite and hoarse, a result of being mute for weeks.
"Rogue...Nobody could. He was too far gone." Hank sighed, his breath rustling through the fur on his chin.
Rogue suddenly tensed, balled her fist, furrowed her brow. "But Ah was so close, Ah coulda saved him, Ah was so close!" Everything about her was strained, even her speech, coming between excessively tight vocal cords.
"Rogue, there was nothing anybody could do." Hank felt almost frustrated. Rogue would spend forever torturing herself about things she couldn't change.
"Hank, you don't understand! Ah was so close, Ah was holdin' him back! Ah had his hand!" She stopped there, despair written across her angelic features. "Ah just...his hand slipped..." She ended helplessly, defeat in her eyes.
Hank leaned over and held her a second. She didn't weep, but she gratefully accepted his comfort, letting him rock her slowly back and forth.
"Are you s'posed ta feel in the astral plane?" She said, looking him in the eyes.
Confusion left it mark on Hank's features. "No, why?"
"Nothin'." She looked away. "Ah just wanted him to stay so much, and he wanted me to go with him so much, and we didn't even try ta meet in the middle."
Hank nodded, letting her bare her soul to him. She needed a confidant.
"But the look on his face when we let go.it was like didn't want ta leave anymore, like he was trying to get back to me." Rogue shuddered as a sudden chill rocked her spine.
For hours, they both sat there. The sun passed high-point and started to disappear behind the mansion. A cold wind whispered through the petals of the cherry tree, jarring a few loose and knocking them to fall to the ground. Hank finally spoke.
"Rogue? If you'll excuse me, it is of necessity that I go and finish a project." Rogue nodded, lost in the silence of it all. Hank left, turning his head every once in a while to see her still there, watching the grave. Finally, with a sigh, he entered the mansion and closed the door behind him.
She stayed there, hoping that she could have a sign, some kind of sign to tell her that her lover was okay, wherever he was. At this point, she was so desperate for some console she'd have taken a sudden split in the clouds or the sound of a bird chirping as some kind of sign. In the astral plane, she had felt, when she kissed him. He'd wanted her to feel it so much she had. He'd wanted their last moment to be tangible. And it had been. The most perfect experience she'd ever felt.
"Ah'm sorry." She looked at the headstone and felt the words roll off her tongue, as if they had just been right for the moment. She closed her eyes, breath coming fast as she choked up.
It wasn' your fault..
At that instant she felt someone beside her, his voice echoing inside her head. She knew she was just hallucinating, but she wanted to believe he was there so much that she didn't open her eyes to affirm it. She talked back.
"If it wasn't fer me you'd still be alive." Guilt crept into her head like a poison.
Dat's not true.
She wanted him to be there so badly. "Ah miss you."
I miss you too.
She loved him, but she'd had to lose everything to really realize it. She felt a warm presence beside her, close to her ear. "Why didn'tcha stay?"
Because it was my time, chere. It wasn' yours.
Like that explained much. "Ah'm sorry Ah didn't tell you enough before. Ah loved you and took you for granted."
I love you too, chere.
Rogue's conscience snapped. "Ah'm sorry! Ah'm sorry! Gawd, Remy, Ah'm so sorry! Ah'm sorry I didn't tell ya before! Ah'm so sorry!" She cried out, eyes snapping open as the guilt pervaded her thoughts. Howling apologies like a young child about to be beaten, she looked around and saw the empty seat next to her. "Ah'm sorry."
A cherry blossom lifted on the wind and floated over the stone bench. Rogue put her hands in her pockets against the cold. Something hard and thin struck her finger. Pulling out the Queen of Hearts, she began to cry.