Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Author's Note: After writing this, my friend asked me if it was the prelude to "It's Not Safe To Cry When You Drive". To which I gave her a long, hard, very confused look and said "What?". After comparing both short stories, I realized they were quite similar. So, go with whatever you want, series or separate piece.
Remy looked back at the mansion. The chirping sound of laughter pervaded the atmosphere, slicing into the still air. All around the inhabitants were giggling and chuckling and joking and having a good time. And he hated it.
From the secluded area beneath the willows the noise was more muted, however. Remy knew Rogue and Joseph -no, Magneto- were talking under the boughs. His eyesight dimmed to a rose color, then back as he controlled his raging temper. Flicking the three of diamonds in his fingers, he decided he deserved more than anyone to know what they were talking about. Though a small pang of guilt rushed his senses, he snuck up and rested his back against the stone wall. He listened.
"...You have very beautiful eyes, Rogue," Said the voice from behind the wall. Quietly, bitterly, Remy mouthed it back, adding a few insertions of his own.
"You have very beautiful eyes, Rogue. Did I mention? I'm Magneto, an' I'm here t' murder de human population."
"Why, thank ya, Joseph." A slight giggle escaped into the air. Remy furrowed his brow angrily.
"Rogue..." Remy head perked up, eyes glowing at the sound if Joseph's voice. "Rogue, I hope you understand that I'm grateful with all my heart for you accepting me back." The Cajun wrung the tail-edge of his trenchcoat.
"Joe, it's men like you, men who want their sins forgiven, that need a lovin' home and a family to rely on. That's why you got us." At her words, Remy's eyes flared. Hypocrisy! He saw red, burning, ember red, and stomped across the grounds to the large garage, each footstep shattering the serenity. Anger purred like some untamed creature in his chest, matching the roaring in his ears. Biting the inside of his lip, he busted through the door and straddled the motorbike. Then he paused.
All those times he'd thought Rogue loved him, it had been a lie. All those times he thought Antarctica behind them, she would say something that would bring it all back. And every time he thought that it was in her nature not to forgive, she would prove him wrong. She'd forgiven a mass murderer, but she could never forgive her darling Remy.
Maybe she had been right. Maybe he had gotten what he deserved. Maybe he really was a hopeless monster. Sometimes the truth sets you free, sometimes it kills you. This truth had killed him twice, destroyed his innocence and later, his life.
For about an hour he sat there, mired within his misery. The door was open, the key was there, all he needed to do was rev the bike. And then, whatever he found, Remy LeBeau would die and a new person, one free of guilt and history, would be born. Once he left it behind he could change. Once he had Rogue and the X-Men out of his life, he could be just another mutant on the streets.
And Rogue?
Rogue would be better off without him. She and Joseph could have that perfect life they always wanted and never have li'l ol' Remy screwing with their plans.
Rogue would be better off without him.
At the same time, though, there was no doubt that he wanted to stay more than anything. He wanted to run back to her, say he forgave her for leaving him, say he was sorry a thousand times. His body, however, refused to compromise with raging energy of his thoughts. Sitting there, still on the motorbike, he stayed blank-faced.
What was his motivation, the desire of reward or the fear of punishment? That would depend, he figured. Depended on if he had ever had her love in the first place, depended on if he had it now.
She'd forgiven Joseph.
"Remy?" Caught up in his own personal hell, Remy had not heard Rogue enter. He started. "Remy, what're ya doin' in here?"
Before he spoke, he had to swallow multiple times. He hadn't intended to procrastinate long enough for her to find him. "Leavin'."
"What?" Rogue's voice was still soft, like a child not understanding. Skirts must have brought out the sweetness in her. They always had. She was so nice when she was wearing her little A-line. "What d'ya mean?"
"Rogue..." Remy gave a sigh, keeping his face away from her view. "Rogue, it'd never work out."
Rogue gave the slightest of chuckles. "If Ah had a quarter for every time ya said that."
"I'm serious. You can keep goin' on forgivin' people and I can just go on pretendin' ya care, but it don' work dat way." He said, words spilling off his tongue as he fought to get them out before he changed his mind.
Still confused, "But o' course Ah care."
"Den you don't love. Very fine line, chere." Discreetly wiping his eyes, he revved the bike.
Rogue's face grew hot, cheeks burning a rose color. "You implyin' Ah don't love you? After all this time?"
"It's for de best." More for himself than for her sake, he shuddered as if a sudden draft had come over him. He slowly started the bike, subconsciously slowing himself enough to see her face for one last time. She called out after him, hair coming loose from the bun she had placed it in, mirroring her wild mood.
"There's a difference in lovin' and leavin', Cajun! You just don't care 'nuff to find out why!" He was gone. The wind shifted quietly through the trees. She didn't go after him. She didn't even try. She just sobbed as the sound of her Romeo's motorbike died away.
Remy looked behind him, hoping against hope that his Juliet would catch up to him. Hoping against hope that she'd grab him and knock some sense into him. He wanted so much for her to yell at him, scream at him, just anything to know she cared enough to follow him.
But she didn't come. All he saw was asphalt zooming away from his wheel.
Turning his eyes back to the road, he said his last goodbye to Rogue.
Author's Note: After writing this, my friend asked me if it was the prelude to "It's Not Safe To Cry When You Drive". To which I gave her a long, hard, very confused look and said "What?". After comparing both short stories, I realized they were quite similar. So, go with whatever you want, series or separate piece.
Remy looked back at the mansion. The chirping sound of laughter pervaded the atmosphere, slicing into the still air. All around the inhabitants were giggling and chuckling and joking and having a good time. And he hated it.
From the secluded area beneath the willows the noise was more muted, however. Remy knew Rogue and Joseph -no, Magneto- were talking under the boughs. His eyesight dimmed to a rose color, then back as he controlled his raging temper. Flicking the three of diamonds in his fingers, he decided he deserved more than anyone to know what they were talking about. Though a small pang of guilt rushed his senses, he snuck up and rested his back against the stone wall. He listened.
"...You have very beautiful eyes, Rogue," Said the voice from behind the wall. Quietly, bitterly, Remy mouthed it back, adding a few insertions of his own.
"You have very beautiful eyes, Rogue. Did I mention? I'm Magneto, an' I'm here t' murder de human population."
"Why, thank ya, Joseph." A slight giggle escaped into the air. Remy furrowed his brow angrily.
"Rogue..." Remy head perked up, eyes glowing at the sound if Joseph's voice. "Rogue, I hope you understand that I'm grateful with all my heart for you accepting me back." The Cajun wrung the tail-edge of his trenchcoat.
"Joe, it's men like you, men who want their sins forgiven, that need a lovin' home and a family to rely on. That's why you got us." At her words, Remy's eyes flared. Hypocrisy! He saw red, burning, ember red, and stomped across the grounds to the large garage, each footstep shattering the serenity. Anger purred like some untamed creature in his chest, matching the roaring in his ears. Biting the inside of his lip, he busted through the door and straddled the motorbike. Then he paused.
All those times he'd thought Rogue loved him, it had been a lie. All those times he thought Antarctica behind them, she would say something that would bring it all back. And every time he thought that it was in her nature not to forgive, she would prove him wrong. She'd forgiven a mass murderer, but she could never forgive her darling Remy.
Maybe she had been right. Maybe he had gotten what he deserved. Maybe he really was a hopeless monster. Sometimes the truth sets you free, sometimes it kills you. This truth had killed him twice, destroyed his innocence and later, his life.
For about an hour he sat there, mired within his misery. The door was open, the key was there, all he needed to do was rev the bike. And then, whatever he found, Remy LeBeau would die and a new person, one free of guilt and history, would be born. Once he left it behind he could change. Once he had Rogue and the X-Men out of his life, he could be just another mutant on the streets.
And Rogue?
Rogue would be better off without him. She and Joseph could have that perfect life they always wanted and never have li'l ol' Remy screwing with their plans.
Rogue would be better off without him.
At the same time, though, there was no doubt that he wanted to stay more than anything. He wanted to run back to her, say he forgave her for leaving him, say he was sorry a thousand times. His body, however, refused to compromise with raging energy of his thoughts. Sitting there, still on the motorbike, he stayed blank-faced.
What was his motivation, the desire of reward or the fear of punishment? That would depend, he figured. Depended on if he had ever had her love in the first place, depended on if he had it now.
She'd forgiven Joseph.
"Remy?" Caught up in his own personal hell, Remy had not heard Rogue enter. He started. "Remy, what're ya doin' in here?"
Before he spoke, he had to swallow multiple times. He hadn't intended to procrastinate long enough for her to find him. "Leavin'."
"What?" Rogue's voice was still soft, like a child not understanding. Skirts must have brought out the sweetness in her. They always had. She was so nice when she was wearing her little A-line. "What d'ya mean?"
"Rogue..." Remy gave a sigh, keeping his face away from her view. "Rogue, it'd never work out."
Rogue gave the slightest of chuckles. "If Ah had a quarter for every time ya said that."
"I'm serious. You can keep goin' on forgivin' people and I can just go on pretendin' ya care, but it don' work dat way." He said, words spilling off his tongue as he fought to get them out before he changed his mind.
Still confused, "But o' course Ah care."
"Den you don't love. Very fine line, chere." Discreetly wiping his eyes, he revved the bike.
Rogue's face grew hot, cheeks burning a rose color. "You implyin' Ah don't love you? After all this time?"
"It's for de best." More for himself than for her sake, he shuddered as if a sudden draft had come over him. He slowly started the bike, subconsciously slowing himself enough to see her face for one last time. She called out after him, hair coming loose from the bun she had placed it in, mirroring her wild mood.
"There's a difference in lovin' and leavin', Cajun! You just don't care 'nuff to find out why!" He was gone. The wind shifted quietly through the trees. She didn't go after him. She didn't even try. She just sobbed as the sound of her Romeo's motorbike died away.
Remy looked behind him, hoping against hope that his Juliet would catch up to him. Hoping against hope that she'd grab him and knock some sense into him. He wanted so much for her to yell at him, scream at him, just anything to know she cared enough to follow him.
But she didn't come. All he saw was asphalt zooming away from his wheel.
Turning his eyes back to the road, he said his last goodbye to Rogue.