Disclaimer: Don't own X-men. Don't own Shawshank Redemption (That's how I got the idea.) Its all very, very sad, but true.
6 Months Later
"And how is everybody?………Peter?…….Bruce?………. That other guy, um, James?…….. Good, good, that's great sugah…….. And he's helping ya study fer law? That's excellent….. And how are- No, don't ya dare hang up on meh……ah love ya too sugah but don't……Alex….ALEXANDER!"
The line went dead. It happened every time. He was always rushing away doing this thing or the other. All I wanted to do was talk to my little boy and he goes and hangs up on me. I sighed and put down the phone sitting back in the sofa. The house was empty. It always been empty. Ever since he went away. God I missed him. The way he used to smile at me, the way he always made sure I was ok, the way he.
No.
I must not think of him. Not now. Always after calling Alex, even after thinking about Alex I always though of him. "Why did he leave?" I whispered to the room.
Forcing my limbs to move I stood up and walked over to the old wooden desk in the corner of the room. From the top drawer I pulled out an old Photo album. Sitting back on the sofa, I looked over the faces staring back at me.
Underneath one photo written in a swirly, loopy style that was not my own was "The Team." And indeed it was the team. Scott, Jean, Ororo, Logan, Kurt, Kitty, Hank. And up the back trying to melt into the background was me. I never did like having my picture taken and always tried to stand behind someone tall to block me out. But he hadn't let me. He had pulled me as far to the front as I would let him. If anyone else had tried they would have been drained dry in a second. But not him. He always managed to charm his way out of it.
Ultimately it was him that helped me with my powers. Thief that he was, he managed to 'acquire' a very beautiful piece of jewellery that helped me control them. The day he left, I didn't know what to do. He didn't say goodbye. There was nothing. Not even a note. He had just left. I went straight to the mansion and asked the professor to look for him, but although the professor tried, there was no way he could find him.
Everyone had been supportive, some more than others. Scott stayed away from me, hw wouldn't even talk to me. Whereas Jean took every moment she had to tell me such phrases as, "New he was a bad character." and "Never should have trusted him."
I hated it.
I hated her.
I hated the words that poured out her mouth.
And I hated them all the more, because I knew that some part of it was true.
When I got home I began to rid the house of any trace of him. I threw out the rest of his clothes. I sold all of his CD's. I never ever wanted to remember him again. Remember those eyes. Those DAMN EYES!
But the harder I tried to forget him, the more those eyes haunted me in my dreams. Then it started. I was ill. Sick at every hour. This couldn't mean what I thought it did. It couldn't. I had tried so hard to get rid of him, but not this, not this, not now. But my fears were all too real. For the nine months I carried the child of the man who left me I thought, please, oh please, don't let him have those eyes. I went to sleep every night pleading, not those eyes, not those eyes.
I remember Hanks face when he handed me the baby, "Congratulations, It's a boy." I looked at his little chubby face, his small arms. I watched as his tiny fingers curled round my finger. I looked at the tiny hairs on his head. And then he opened his eyes. Those eyes. The ones I had tried to erase stared right into my soul. I had said to myself, "It it has those eyes, I wont keep it. I cant." How wrong was I. When I saw those eyes, fell in love with little Alex. He was my child and I would keep him and love him like any other mother would.
And where has it got me now. Sitting in an empty house, my little boy locked away in prison. My little boy. He was growing up now. Someone in there was showing him what life really was. 'It will be that James man' I thought to myself. I turned the page of the photo album.
Another picture, another time.
It was in Paris. It was just the two of us, standing beside the Eiffel tower. And there we stood. Our arms round each other. I was so much in love with him back then. And still am to-
KNOCK KNOCK
I jumped up quickly, letting the album crash to the floor.
Who could it be?
"Rogue? Rogue are you in there?"
Like I needed to ask.
"Doors open Jean. In you come."
The red head bounded through the door, a smile firmly set in her perfect face. "Hello there." She said cheerily. "I thought since you were all on your own down here you could do with some company."
"You really don half t-"
"Oh but I do!"
With that she sat down on the sofa and picked up the photo album. She looked at the picture I had been staring at and frowned. "I thought you got rid of these?" she said as I turned to look out the window.
"I…….I…..I couldn't."
"You still think about him then?"
"How could I not? Alex is just a living reminder of….of…..him."
"Still cant say his name Rogue?" I didn't answer her, "You think about all the bad memories with him Rogue. Don't you remember any of the good times?"
"Yes." I said angrily turning sharply towards her. I pointed to the photo she now held in her hands, "I remember Paris."
"And what do you remember about it? How it was the last holiday you two spent together?" I turned away from her. Her words were true again. "The day you returned, we were there to meet you. The day you returned, was the same day he le-" She stopped mid sentence. She must have seen the tears falling slowly down my cheek. She sighed and stood up, "I'm sorry Rogue, but I had to say something."
"Its Ok Jean."
We were silent for a very long time, but then I heard her laugh silently to herself. "What?" I asked, looking round to face her.
"Do you remember when you came back with Joseph."
I smiled, "How can I forget."
"That man of yours. He was so Jealous.
I laughed, "I remember. What was it he said?"
"Oh I can hardly remember. Wasn't it "So why's everybody callin' him "Joseph"? What is dat all about? Maybe I should just start callin' myself somethin' different. James. "Gambit"? No, I'm James.'"
We laughed together, almost rolling around the floor.
And then lightning struck.
James
James
James
James
Call me James
James
James
James
I fell to the floor, Jean rushed to my side saying, "What is it Rogue, whats wrong?"
"I…..I know where he is."
"Where who is?"
"HIM! He's in Prison! He's in Prison with Alex! Remy is in prison with Alex!!"