Disclaimer: If you think I own the X-Men then you're obviously not the sharpest fish in the socket…
A/N: Yay, we beat 200! Fabutastic. Let's keep 'em coming! But first, some thanks. I hope they make sense, spray paint fumes have really been getting to me… Curse you, redecorating!
Star-of-Chaos, demiducky25, PomegranateQueen,Anamaniax, Vivid Butterfly, Crunchie Lettuce, RoguesTale,Ms.Rogue LeBeau, enchantedlight, flowerperson, TheRealMai,Sweety8587, texasgrrl, Rogue14, heartsyhawk, Pandora's Sorrow, EviltwinAlix, Carla-p, mollymo, and darkstorm5000 – Oh, my beloved fans… I think you all deserve a fruit basket. That's right, I'm going all out this time!
SweetRevenge151 – I'm trying to picture a fox wearing argyle socks, and it's amusing me to no end! It's like something out of a Dr. Seuss illustration… And good guess, but one chapter early. Well, you get half a gold star for being half right.
Orage – Hmm, was writing ROMY in capital letters an attempt at subliminally hinting for me to include more? ;-)
Neurotic Temptress – Hey, you can't be too insane yet. I mean, at least you realize that he is a fictional character, right?
Aro – A spork, eh? Shmeh, I'd be more worried if you had a knork… And wow, I could really feel your pain over Belle's demise. Methinks you're the perfect choice to give the eulogy!
Krys Xanthina – A life? What's that? I'm not familiar with that term.
Alyxandria – I'm your current favourite? I'm so flattered, I'm blushing! Thanks for that link – gander I did. Damn, what was up with Remy's hair and outfit? Ouch, they really hurt me.
Peace215 – More flattery! I'm loving this. Don't bother looking for your book of praises, you're doing just fine without it!
Krac – Welcome to the 2004 ASS Awards – Assassins of Superior Skills. Finally, the moment we've all been waiting for - The Golden Dagger Award for Assassin of the Year goes to… (drumroll) Julien Boudreaux!
Speck – Ninja kangaroos? Huh. Lemme guess, they'll steal my plot and hide it in their pouches, right? Eww, then it'll get all slimy, and it won't be of use to anybody!
Calliann – Well, your extra effort for two reviews is much appreciated – and it made you #200! Huzzah! (confetti and streamers fall from the ceiling) Have some celebratory cake - yummers! I've gotta ask – is your new fic, what with the memory problems and all, payback for this one? Admit it…;-)
melancholic – Math ruins all. You like #202? Glad you're easily amused. I'm happy I changed your mind, I'm awed at my power! But me telling you what I'll change will ensure that you're not surprised! Where's the fun in that? I think I'll have to take my chances against your pitchfork. Now a rake would be a different story… I just don't like rakes.
Okay, back into Remy's mind we go… Remember, we're moving backwards, hopefully nobody will get too queasy.
Loved and Lost, or Never At All?
Chapter 7 – Guilt
"I would forget it fain,
But O, it presses to my memory
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds."
- William Shakespeare
Thinking he had heard somebody behind him talking of a rogue, Remy turned around in his seat and inconspicuously scanned the bar. There was nothing out of the ordinary, nobody that caught his attention.
'Must have been 'maginin' t'ings,' he decided, and twisted back to face his drink. It had just been desperate, wishful thinking on his part.
Remy, Henri, and Emil were out celebrating their successful appropriations – as always, there were many tourists wandering around the French Quarter, their wallets bulging and ripe for the picking. Now the boys were sitting around a table, drinking, laughing and relaxing after the day's work. Well, Henri and Emil were – Remy just sat there nursing his bourbon, gazing dejectedly around the room.
He missed her. He kept looking in the crowd, hoping to see her, wishing that she would just magically appear, that maybe she had come to find him… But he knew that wouldn't happen, and it just depressed him even more. It bothered Remy to no end that he was in the Big Easy picking pockets and drinking away his sorrow when he should be in Bayville, with Rogue in his arms. It was like he was just sitting and waiting for the inevitable to happen, and it wasn't a feeling he was partial to.
His family and friends had noticed his rather brooding attitude, so finally Henri brought it up. "Hey Remy, somet'in' de matter? Y're not flirtin' wit' anybody f'r once."
"Yeah," laughed Emil. "What's wrong, lost yo' touch? Or are y' actually goin' t' be loyal t' Belle?"
Remy scoffed. He'd let her think that – in reality, he'd be exercising his loyalty to another.
"Seriously, frère (brother), what's de problem? Y' haven't been de same since y' came back home," observed Henri.
"Dat's true, he'd usually be flirtin' wit' anyt'in' dat moves," added Emil, as he winked at a tall, blonde woman walking by.
"Not'in's wrong," insisted Remy, not in the mood to share anything.
"We ain't leavin' dis table 'til we find out."
"Dat's right. Lemme get some mo' drinks, an' we'll get it out o' y'."
As their cousin made his way towards the bar, Henri carefully scrutinized his brother – his elbows were on the table and he propped his head up with his hands, looking glum. He had a perpetual frown on his face and his eyes were dim, not glowing brightly like when he was excited or passionate about something. They hadn't done so ever since his return to the South.
"Quoi? (What?)," scowled an annoyed Remy, unnerved with Henri's close inspection of him.
"We're worried 'bout y', Remy. It's obvious dat somet'in's wrong. Must be serious t' have de self-proclaimed 'King o' Hearts' out o' commission, neh?"
He winced at hearing his old moniker… He remembered Rogue calling him that, and it caused his mind to flood with thoughts of her again. Remy wasn't that person anymore – now he was the King of only one heart.
Emil returned to the table and placed more bourbon down, glasses clinking. "Alright, coz, tell us what yo' problem is."
Remy snorted in response. "Lapin, in case y' hadn't noticed, y' ain't some psychiatrist. I don' want y' handlin' m' problems, y're definitely not qualified."
Lapin gasped in mock hurt, while Henri just rolled his eyes. Shoving a shot glass towards his brother, he ordered, "Drink up."
The two plied Remy with more alcohol, all the while pestering him about what was the matter. It was annoying – it wasn't as if they could do much to help him… Finally, he'd had enough.
"Merde, if I tell y', will y' two shut up?" Remy ground out in frustration.
"Dat's all we ever wanted," grinned Lapin.
Remy tossed back another shot. He felt the alcohol flowing through his bloodstream, warming up his body and loosening his lips. "I don' want t' get married," he finally told them with a sigh.
Emil blinked at his fairly anticlimactic revelation. "Well, o' course y' don'. Who'd want t' marry Belladonna?"
"It's not I don' want t'," he frowned. "I mean, I don't want t', but I can't. I can't go t'rough wit' it."
"Why not?"
"Dere's someone else."
"Dere's always someone else," Henri commented flippantly. "Who's yo' girl o' de hour now?"
"It's not like dat," Remy spat out, taking offence at the words. He had indeed flitted from woman to woman before he met Rogue – he had been willing to admit it then, going so far as to brag and be proud about it, but now… Now, he felt ashamed of it. His chère had certainly changed him for the better…
"Den what's it like?"
He braced himself for their reactions. "'M in love," Remy revealed warily – back up North he would have joyfully screamed that news from the rooftops, but now, in the war zone that was the streets of New Orleans, he was cautious with whom he revealed it to.
If he wasn't so unhappy with the situation, Remy would have laughed at the responses that his admission caused. Henri's jaw had dropped open in shock, and Lapin was choking on the drink he'd had in his mouth.
Remy reached over and slapped Emil hard on the back. "Y'alright dere, homme?"
"Oui," he wheezed out, gasping for air.
There was silence between the three of them for a few moments, and Remy became uncomfortable. "Quoi!"
"Wow," chuckled an amazed Henri, and then began to laugh loudly. "I never t'ought I'd live t' see dis day!"
"I don' believe it," breathed Emil. "Who is she?"
Remy reached for his picture of Rogue – it was in the safest place in the world, a thief's wallet. He placed it on the table in front of them, and joined the other two in examining it. He'd been looking at it daily, he would never get tired of staring at it… He just missed her so much.
It showed Rogue sitting on his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck and his around her waist. Their foreheads were pressed together, and they were both smiling and gazing into each other's eyes. Kitty had just bought a digital camera and had been trying to figure out how it worked – she found them lounging outside, and asked them to pose for her. They obliged, but it had taken her so long to figure out which buttons to press that they had broken their positions and started laughing – she ended up accidentally taking the picture then, but Remy thought it was perfect. To him it captured the reality of their relationship, the ease and comfort they had with each other – it wasn't them posing or posturing, it was truly them.
"Dat's mon amour, Rogue," he explained. "Met her in New York."
Lapin gave an impressed whistle and picked up the photo for a closer examination. "Merde, now dat is one belle femme."
"Oui, she is, but hands off," Remy growled, snatching back the picture. "She's mine."
"Does she have a twin sister den?"
Pointedly ignoring him, Henri smiled at his brother. "Félicitations (congratulations), Remy. Glad y' found someone dat makes y' happy."
"Don' congratulate m' yet," he grimaced. "Supposed t' get married t' someone else, remember? Y' know père an' Marius, dey're not goin' t' just let it go."
"Dat's f'r sure," agreed Emil. "So why de hell are y' here? Wouldn' expect y' t' come back if y' got her back up nort'."
"Had t'," Remy mumbled morosely. "I promised Rogue dat I'd get out o' de marriage. Not really good f'r a relationship t' be engaged t' someone else, tu sais? (you know?) B'sides, I can't jus' leave – Belle would go after m', she's not lettin' m' go dat easy."
"Y' got yo'self int' a nice mess, Remy," remarked Henri, shaking his head.
"Don' I know it."
"Hate t' sound negative, but it don' look like dere's much we can do t' help y', Remy," mused Lapin.
"I can't marry Belle, I jus' can't."
"But y' might have t'. Y' might have t' fo'get 'bout yo' Rogue."
"Some friend y' are!" Henri exclaimed, punching his cousin in the arm. "Y've obviously never been in love! Y' don' jus' fo'get 'bout de person… Couillon (Idiot)."
"'M in love wit' every pretty fille (girl) dat walks by," Lapin joked.
Henri retorted with a smack to the back of Emil's head. "We'll do our best t' help him, it's de least we can do."
"How de hell will we do dat? I want t' help Remy as much as y' do, but dis be bot' Guilds we'll be goin' against!"
They continued to argue as Remy sat there, not listening – his mind had begun to buzz as soon as he heard Lapin mention the word 'forget'. Why? It struck him that there was something important he needed to know regarding it, but what? He wracked his brain, but everything seemed rather fuzzy – it must have been the alcohol...
Forget… Forget about her… He couldn't do that. He'd never do that… Yet something about that seemed wrong to him, it was off somehow. Dammit, what was it? Then it slowly came to him – he was. That was it, he was erasing Rogue.
'Lapin was right, I should've just fo'got 'bout her,' he thought bitterly as he downed another shot, and watched the bar become increasingly more blurry.
- X -
Remy walked through the loud, crowded streets of New Orleans. He would have enjoyed being back in his hometown, taking in the sights and smells and sounds, had it not been under these circumstances.
Ducking into an alleyway, he leaned against the brick wall and sighed. He was craving a cigarette, but he didn't have any – he had quit because Rogue had said the habit was disgusting. Remy smiled at that thought, and then ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He couldn't stand being without her much longer…
"What's de matter, mon amour, y' miss yo' little mouffette (skunk)?" came a snide voice in front of him.
Looking up, Remy saw Belladonna standing there, hands on her hips, and a mocking smirk on her face. He glared at her, not about to dignify her comment with a response.
"Glad t' see y' here, Remy," she continued. "Almos' t'ought y' wouldn' come back."
"Not like I had much o' a choice, did I?" he muttered.
She grinned wickedly. "Dat's true! Y' wouldn' want m' payin' y' anot'er little visit, would y'? Don't know what y' were t'inkin', Remy, tryin' t' stay away from our weddin' like dat."
"Was t'inkin' dat dere's no way in hell I'd marry y'," Remy replied coolly, pleased as Belle took insult to his words and narrowed her eyes.
"Hate t' break it t' y', but y' willmarry m'," she hissed. She stepped closer and glared at him, placing her hands on his chest and shoving him harder back into the wall. "Try all y' want t' get out o' it, but it won't work. I've worked hard t' make sure dis weddin' will happen, an' t' make sure y' came back – so get o'er dat fille o' yours, an' accept de fact dat y'll be mon mari (my husband)!"
"Jamais (Never)," he spat out, glaring right back, his eyes glowing in anger.
Out of the blue, Belle leaned up and kissed him. Grabbing her shoulders, Remy roughly pushed her off him – he didn't want to touch her, he wouldn't betray Rogue in any way. He already felt a tiny twinge of guilt for that fleeting kiss. "Stop, Belle," he gruffly ordered her. "Dat ain' gonna work."
"Why not?" she whispered, pouting in what she believed was a seductive manner.
"Cause y're not Rogue."
"Oh, please!" she scoffed. "Give it up! Y' t'ink dat girl still wants anyt'in' t' do wit' y'? She must've been pretty hurt, henh?"
Remy glowered. "We love each ot'er, Belle, y' can't change dat."
"Oh, but I t'ink I did! I doubt she still feels de same way 'bout y', cher," she taunted him. "Y' don' have her anymo'! Y' lied t' her, y' hurt her, she ain't yours no mo'!"
"She'll always be mine," Remy ground out, aggravated beyond belief at Belladonna's words. It pained him to admit it, but she was partially right, he had hurt her… But surely, she wasn't right about the rest…
"Well, you, Remy LeBeau, will be mine," she purred, running her hands along him. "You'll fo'get 'bout her after y' wake up wit' me beside y'…"
That made him pause – there was something important about that word. What was it? Forget… Remy immersed himself in his thoughts, not responding to Belle's comments. Not hearing any complaints, she pressed herself to him and kissed him once more.
Remy tensed when her lips touched his. He was about to push her away again, when it came to him – he was forgetting Rogue… He was forgetting Rogue because she forgot him, she had given up on him, she had replaced him. Now he remembered… So he closed his eyes, and let Belle continue to kiss him.
It didn't matter, she was with Pietro now, he was only doing the same thing she did. It was payback… But then why did he feel bad about it, why couldn't he get Rogue out of his head? He could only think of how Belle's lips weren't as soft as hers, or how Rogue's kisses tasted sweeter… The guilt was stronger this time, but Remy tried to ignore it.
'B'sides,' he tried to reason. 'It didn' really happen dis way, dis is jus' in m' mind.'
That thought didn't do much to assuage his feelings. As he slowly opened his eyes, he could see the alley beginning to fade away, and wished it would hurry up.
- X -
Zooming in through the gates of the Guild estate, Remy skidded to a stop and leapt off his motorcycle. He hadn't been home in a long time, but he had more important things to do than look around and reminisce. He ran inside, not even greeting Tante Mattie as she stood in the doorway – she remained silent, knowing better than to get in his way when he was clearly in such a furious mood.
He stormed up the stairs, and towards his father's office. Without knocking, he yanked open the door and barged inside.
Looking up from his papers in surprise, Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow. "Ahh, y're back. Nice t' see y' again, mon fils."
"Dat's it? Dat's all y' have t' say t' me?" Remy shouted incredulously.
"What's wrong wit' y'?"
"Wit' me? What de hell's wrong wit' y'? Y' sent Belle t' New York after me? Why'd y' do dat!"
Curiously watching his son pace back and forth across the room, Jean-Luc rose from his seat and walked around to the front of his desk. "Calm down, Remy. It wasn' m' idea t' send Belle. She was gettin' impatient – yo' contract wit' Magneto was over an' y' didn' come back, so she t'ought y' never would. Marius t'ought de same - dey said it was time t' put de agreement in motion, so he sent her after y'."
"I refuse t' go t'rough wit' dis!" he exclaimed, shaking his head violently.
"Excusez-moi?," questioned Jean-Luc, as if unsure of what he was hearing.
"Y' heard me! I won't marry Belle!"
The Guild leader stared at his son in utter confusion. "Dis has been arranged fo' years, y' have t' do dis! Y' were never so dead set against it b'fo', why is dis such a problem maintenant? (now?) Y' get a belle wife an' secure peace b'tween de Guilds, why is dat so bad?"
"It's bad because it ruined everyt'in'!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, the emotions of the past few days building up inside of him and preparing to burst. "Evert'in' dat we spent over a year buildin', everyt'in' we had t'get'er, an' now it'll all be f'r not'in'!"
Jean-Luc remained silent, but realization slowly dawned in his eyes. "We?" he asked quietly.
"Oui. Me an' Rogue. M' girlfriend," came the sullen answer.
"Y' mean y' actually settled wit' one fille long enough t' consider her a girlfriend?" he commented amusedly.
"Oui, I did. I love her. I don' love Belle, I never did. I won' marry her," Remy stated resolutely, ignoring his father's veiled insult.
Frowning, Jean-Luc sighed regretfully. "Je suis désolé (I'm sorry),Remy, but dat don' matter. Y' have t' marry Belladonna, I can't back out o' de deal. We need dis, t' secure peace f'r us, y' know dat."
"Y' can't change it? Dere has t' be somet'in' y' can do!" his son begged, refusing to believe that.
"Non, I can't. Dere's not'in'."
Remy took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. "I still won' go t'rough wit' it."
"Y' have t'," insisted his father. "If y' don'… Both Guilds will be furious - y' might get exiled, or even killed… Please, do dis Remy. It's f'r de good o' everybody."
"What about my good? What about my happiness? Don' I matter!" yelled Remy, stepping up to the older man and staring him down.
To his credit, Jean-Luc didn't flinch under his son's intense glare. "'M sorry, Remy, really, but dis is out o' m' hands! As long as de weddin's still on, y' have t' be here, an' y' have t' marry her. Dat's final."
Remy was about to argue further, but saw the resolved look in his father's eyes and knew it was futile. Jean-Luc could be just as stubborn as he was, neither would budge in their position. Refusing to waste his breath, he clenched his jaw, whipped around and angrily strode towards the door.
"Remy?" called out the Guild patriarch a second later, and the young man paused. "Yo' best bet is t' fo'get about her."
Remy's entire body stiffened, and his hands clenched into fists. "I am," he muttered, walking out into the blurring hallway as the office disappeared behind him.
Hmm, so Remy's remembering what he's doing, eh? Interesting, very interesting…
Next chapter – finally, we find out what happened when Remy left Rogue!
Onto the customary plea for reviews! My goal is to beat the amount I had for 'February Fifteenth', which currently stands at 750… So let's get reviewing, people, we've got a lot to go! Pretty please? It'll make my day(s). ;-)
Toodles,
- ish -