Aurevoir, mes amis
A/N: I suppose this is AU or just the future. You can choose, I won't nail it down.
A cold wind blew his auburn hair back from his face and played with the ends of his faded brown duster. Sorrowful red-on-black eyes looked at the broken building before him, as autumn leaves danced in the air. The old front doors swung on loose, rusty hinges sending a soft, metallic screech echoing through the night. Almost as if the old building were crying out in pain.
His feet carried him forward, up the crumbling steps and through the screeching doors, into a memory of what had once been a welcoming front lobby. It was no longer. The rich carpet had rotted away to practically nothing, the windows were broken, only a few shards of glass remained, still clinging to the rotting panes. The once grand staircase was old and faded, the railing broken and chipped. He saw paintings in his memory that weren't there in reality, having been long ago stolen or destroyed. Haunting, ghostly laughter drifted to his ears and the specters of years ago walked up to him with friendly greetings. They wore faces that he knew too well and now only saw in his dreams.
He continued his slow saunter, banishing the ghosts all the while wishing that they were real, that they were once again the friends he'd loved. He ran a gloved had lovingly over the broken rail and slowly ascended the steps, seeing it restored to its former beauty.
Reaching the top of the familiar yet strange staircase, he looked down the battered hallway already feeling his heart contract as he headed towards one room. He reached it in seconds, though he walked slowly, and leaned against the doorjamb, agony piercing his heart, reflecting in his eyes and threatening to crush him. The room they'd shared.
It had not escaped the fate of the rest of the mansion. Slow, haunted steps carried him into the destruction of that room where he'd spent many a joyful night and day with her.
Somehow, her presence still haunted this room. Standing in the center, he could almost feel her arms around him, taste her lips on his own. With a fierce ache in his heart, he walked to the dilapidated dresser envisioning the beat up cowboy hat Logan had given her resting on it. Leaning heavily against it, he succumbed to the old pain for a moment, his eyes closing as the tears escaped. His Jubilee, his chere, his beloved. She was gone and had been gone for so long as had all his other friends. The X-men had been his family but they had been wiped out, destroyed, scattered. He wasn't even sure if anyone but himself had escaped. And sometimes he wished he'd died with them. It was terrible being the last one alive and horribly lonely.
He let himself sob for a moment, for everything he'd lost, then gathered his courage and opened his eyes to the depressing sight around him. He looked around hopelessly, fighting the crushing weight of grief. The mansion, the haven for lost souls, was merely a shell of what it had been. Halls that had echoed with laughter were now bare and echoed only the harsh winds.
He walked through the remains of past joy for what seemed like eternity, overwhelmed by memories. When he walked out again, he felt years older, weighed down by sorrow and loneliness. The world was bleak to him now, as it had been for years, since the terrible incident. Since Jubilee and all the rest had died.
Turning to look at the dead mansion one last time, Remy drew a deep shuddering breath, mustering the strength he would need to go on in this barren existence he now lead. It had been his home, the first real home he'd ever had. But all good things must come to an end.
" Aurevoir, mes amis."
The whispered words were hoarse as he lifted a hand in farewell, paying silent homage to the old building and the ghosts inside. He lingered for a few more seconds then turned and walked away, never looking back.