A/N: Since it's the New Year I decided to follow the mass trend and make some resolutions for the upcoming year: 1. Start running again (I never knew running again could make even my eyelashes throb in pain) 2. Update more (I am a lazy bum and I'm doing my best trying to add to the stories as quickly as I can—of course this one starts now after this update) 3. Buy a winning lottery ticket that has an unbelievable high amount of money for the jackpot thus I can buy my way out of college. Well fulfilling 2 out of 3 resolutions ain't that bad right now. I still have the whole year left for the 3rd one. I'm sorry for the delay in updates but if you will refer to resolution #2, the wait in between updates should be kept at the bare minimum, lol.
Thank you soo soo much for the reviews. I think instead of printing the reviews out and hanging them on my fridge, I'll print them on t-shirts. That'll catch on, right? I love your reviews about as much as I love brownies or sleep and that's a whole lot. Please continue with the reviewing and I'll continue with the updating!
So I hope I didn't disappoint any one with this chapter. And Happy Belated Holidays!
My hand runs blindly along the folds and bunches of the soft flannel sheets. Must have been a rough night of sleep. I try to smooth out some of the stubborn bunches but abandon it quickly and my hand continues its exploration over the sheet. My finger glides over the familiar dime sized hole and I know I'm almost there. My arm stretches out further as I reach for Remy. Just a little more. Anticipating the feel of him next to me, his hand reaching for mine, his lips perfectly pouted waiting to caress my hand with a kiss. Anything. But my hand comes up empty. Nothing but the smooth cool feeling of the sheets.
I rolled over on my left side. My eyes flicked open. Empty. I rolled on my back and waited for the cloud of remaining slumber to lift from my head. My eyes closed again and my nose started to twitch. There was something unfamiliar in the air. I breathed through my nose determined to figure it out.
Is it? No, it can't be.
I breathed in more deeply this time.
Yes, it is.
Eggs. Bacon. Sausage. One more inhale. And something burning. Remy was cooking breakfast. Picturing Remy slaving over a hot stove with an apron on caused a lazy smile to etch itself on my face. He is a damn good cook that is if he didn't destroy the kitchen in the process. Eggshells, pots, pans, flour, and plates scattered all over would be the only remains when he was done.
Well if he was going to cook, he might as well twist my arm to get Brennan.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and clumsily stand. I begin to stumble over to Brennan's door, my mind still drunk from my prematurely interrupted sleep. I opened the door and flicked on the lights, "It's a good mo--." My eyes widened and my heart plummeted.
"Oh."
My breath shallow now. In and out. In and out. I tried to remind myself how to breath.
In.
I scanned the dark empty room.
Out.
His stuffed animals every one gave at the baby shower adorned the dressers.
In.
The bumblebee mobile that took Remy 4 hours to assemble hung proudly and triumphantly over Brennan's crib.
Out.
The wooden chair that creaked methodically with each rock that lulled Brennan to sleep.
In.
The "Goodnight Moon" book I read to him every night before he went to sleep lay carelessly on the small table.
Out.
The stars and moon wall paper that took us 5 days to decide on even longer to put on the walls. I originally wanted animal wallpaper and Remy wanted trains and planes. We fought about it for two weeks until we stumbled across this wallpaper in one of the many baby magazines we were subscribed to and thought it would be perfect for our baby.
In.
Little did I know that he would be actually sleeping with the stars and moon.
Out.
In.
Out.
Everything standing still, patiently waiting for him as if time stopped and can only start again when he returns.
I slowly tip toed backwards out of the room, not to disturb anything and shut off the lights before I closed the door in front of me.
A black and white checkered blanket lay balled up on the floor next to my bed. So that's where it went. I bent down, picked it up, and put it against my cheek.
Hmm, it still smells like him. And if I close my eyes its like he's still here and I'm happy. Complete. But of course I open my eyes and he's not. And I'm not. I grasped his blanket tightly to my chest until I could have sworn it was touching my heart and crawled back into bed, burying myself underneath the covers.
Every morning I go through the same thing. I wake from dreaming, thinking everything's the same as before when its not. And every morning, I reach for Remy who isn't there. And every morning, I check on Brennan who is no longer with me, who can't be with me.
And then it hits me and I remember what happened. It's like reliving his death over and over every single day. The other day I woke in a panic. I swear I heard him crying and I ran into his room only to find it empty. The day before that I woke up and looked around me. Curious and alarmed that I was alone, I laid and laid until I realized why I was. The same with the day before that and the one even before that. They all begin and end the same.
It's a punishment waking up each morning thinking that he's here with me. Sisphysus had his rock and I have this. And whatever is left of my heart crumbles into pieces every day. My body aches for my baby. It's an effort just to take a breath. And I think that I can't survive without him, that I can't live another day. But I do. And that kills me even more.
So I lay, lay waiting for the day I can lay next to him again.
The day was so picturesque. It was such a slap in the face. The world didn't even notice he was gone forever. Gone from my life. How could the world go one when my stopped?
"Rogue? Rogue, honey please come out?" a voice softly called from the door.
I didn't respond, just huddled underneath my covers more. The door slowly creaked open and I heard a small clang on the night table. The smell of eggs and bacon wafted over and through my mound of covers.
"Rogue," Jean began slowly, "Please come out."
I remained motionless, still curled up underneath the covers with the pillows over my head. Oh, if only she would push down. Put me out of my misery. No baby should be without his mother.
"Rogue," she tried again and I still wouldn't move. "Please? You have to eat something, you'll make yourself sick. Please?"
Something was consuming my body, it was dark, empty and never ending.
"Will you please come out? Or at least please talk to me. You can't keep everything bottled up, it'll make you sick. Please, please just answer me."
A loose feather poked through the down comforter I had myself wrapped in and was now poking me in my side. I didn't move. If I had move she wouldn't leave. If I had gotten out of bed, my baby would still be with me. No.... I couldn't start that again. It's too early in the day to start that.
"I will be back," Jean said as she closed the door behind her. I then heard her murmur to Logan. Not Logan, it was the Professor. No, she was talking to Scott. Good Jean was talking to dutiful Scott.
"How is she?"
"I don't know. She won't speak. She won't eat. All she does is just under the covers. I'm worried about her," Jean's voice strained.
"I know, we all are. But it's still early. It's going to be a while for her to be back on her feet."
"She never has been this reclusive. She even locked the door earlier, it's like she wants to keep something out."
"She's tough. She'll get through this. We'll be here for her."
Good, dutiful hopeful Scott. Always there to play the hero. But what use is a hero when there are no villains?
"Sometimes that's not enough." Jean paused and lowered her voice, "Have you seen Remy?"
"He comes and goes," Scott's voice also lowered, "Mostly just goes."
They were like two children. Two little children with a secret whispering about.
"He won't even let me talk to him."
Remy. I haven't seen him since that day…
"I don't know what to do. The professor won't intervene. It's all everyone talks about but no one wants to do something about it."
"Maybe there isn't anything we can do."
The day was so picturesque. A fresh breeze blowing, a few birds chirping, the air so crisp, the sunlight flowing. The world didn't even shed a tear. Didn't even weep as I wept watching my baby being lowered.
It's very unnatural. He relied on me for everything and I did my best for him. But this wasn't the way it was supposed to be. I promised him. I promised him there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him. I would have done all the things for Brennan, all the things my mother denied me. I would be all she wasn't.
She was a model for what not to do as a mother. Never side with your boyfriend over your child. Never make your child afraid to go home. Never ignore your child when all she wants is a hug from you. Never send away your child because your boyfriend will only marry you if you get rid of her.
I would never ridicule my baby. Never scapegoat my baby as the cause why her father ran away. I would go to the ends of the earth and then some to protect my child unlike her. How could she stand there and watch her boyfriend hit me? How could she just turn her head when he got too close to me? How could she hate me so much when I loved her so?
I wanted to be the best for Brennan. I would never have left him. I would never leave him as my mom left me. It's just not right that he left me.
Soft three knocks rapped on the door.
The softness of the knocks caused me to stir. I wouldn't even call it a knock, it was more of a tap. Three delicate taps. As of the door was made out of a thin sheet of glass and would shatter if one knocked to roughly.
Curiosity drove my head out and above the covers. I could not recognize who could knock so beautifully. So heartbrokenly.
It was far from the powerful rough pounds Logan seemed to consider as knocks or Scott's authoritative evenly timed four knocks. Not even Hanks rapid knocks varying in tempo and tone as if composing a symphony nor Jean's and Storm's flowing but still firm knocks could compare to these three taps.
The delicate three tappings rapped on my door once more.
I was convinced these delicate tappings were echoing how I feel. Hypnotizing me with its emptiness, it drew out of bed to the door where I stood waiting for the next tap. I had to hear it again before I could open the door, just to make sure.
I waited and waited but no knock came. I slowly drew from my trance, walked back and climbed into the bed but not before retrieving the fallen black and white checkered blanket once more.
It's been quite a while since I have gotten out of bed voluntarily and even longer since I bathed. I haven't even seen the sun or moon in days maybe weeks. Who knows? But I really do. The last time was on that day.
The day that haunts me still. The day when a mother buried her baby boy.
A fresh breeze blowing. I stood up, my knees wobbled. This is where he belongs. With me. In my arms. I bent over and placed him gently down. He felt so cold. So cold and limp in my arms. I felt like a little girl putting her baby doll in the crib. This couldn't be happening.
I can't take it.
I tossed myself onto my right side. My attention caught by the wilting orchid on my dresser. I bought that plant when we moved in. The long stem curved in the middle and drooped down a bit making the once beautifully straight and healthy plant look like an upside down "J". Only three petals remained, the others once soft and fragrant now frail and shriveled littering the top of my dresser and the floor below it.
I wonder…Does the orchid know it's dieing? Does it feel pain? Would it scream if it could? Can it feel itself loosing control? Does it understand what we are going through? Would he recognize me if he saw me again? Will he remember me?
"Rogue," a clatter followed my name.
It was too late to hid myself under the blankets. I never dared to move in front of anyone so I just laid staring at the dying orchid, hoping Jean wouldn't go too far.
But she stayed put andcontinued, "I made your favorite, fried chicken and mash potatoes. Please have some. At least try it. If you don't want it tell me and I'll make something else," she waited for a response, "If you won't eat it for yourself, try eating it for me, please. We need you."
I felt the bed sink down to my left. She must be sitting on the bed. She sat silently as I laid in pain.
God, I feel like I am in Limbo. The place between the living and the dead. Barely hanging on. All my pain dulling everything around me, making it not quite real as if it all is some sorta fucked up nightmare. Like everything is in hyper speed and I'm in slow motion.
Limbo, the state of being forgotten.
Limbo, the imaginary place for lost or neglected things.
Limbo, the place of the innocent and infants. God, I hope my baby is somewhere better than where I am.
Jean cleared her throat, "Well, I know…uh...I've…," she cleared her throat again, "We'll try it again tomorrow."
She rubbed her hand in two small circles on my back before standing up. I rolled on my side as soon as I heard the door close behind her. I pushed the covers down away from my face.
Dinner. She brought me dinner. But I thought she just brought me breakfast. I looked at the plate then at the alarm clock. An eerie shiver ran from the top of my head down to the tips of my toes and back up again. I haven't looked at that clock since Remy and I were waiting out Brennan's cries for help.
Oh my god.
I shot up in bed. I can't remember. I can't remember the sound of my baby's cries. I cursed at myself. I closed my eyes to make it easier to concentrate on searching for him. I have to find him. I have to remember what his cries sound like. I can't loose him, the thought of loosing him again caused tears to swiftly spill down my face.
"My baby, my baby Brennan," I muttered to myself, hoping to remember if I said his name.
My face contorted to one of a pained look. Where is he? I can never forget. I can never loose him. He's here somewhere. It felt like I was breathing under water, suffocating slowly. But that was unimportant, I can--- I found him! My face relaxed and my heart began to beat gain. His sweetly high-pitched scream rang through my head, easing me back into bed.
Memories of him flashed before my eyes. His sweet toothless smile. His curdles and gurgles. His breath taking big blue eyes as deep as the ocean always opened wide, taking everything in from the world. My fallen angel. Too beautiful to live in this world.
Birds chirping. Wheezes and gasps. Eyes blurred from tears and half closed from pain. Kurt speaking about life and its beauty. I didn't want to hear it, if I did hear it than that would make it that more real. Someone's hands supporting me. Holding me back from jumping in after Brennan.
I wrapped the blankets tightly around me, tighter than any one could hold their lover.
Five melodiously knocks punctured my silence. Hank was here for his nightly visit. He knew the routine. He wouldn't wait for a response, he would let himself in and walk over to the side of my bed,just waiting. And sure enough he did.
"Hello my dear," he greeted evenly, "How are you feeling?" They always asked questions I would never answer but that didn't stop them from asking. "Well, I see Jean's been here already." He must have noticed the plate of food. How observant.
I'm glad no one else came to visit today. I can't stand laying there as they watch, like a predator observing its prey. Half the time I don't even notice them. Lost in my thoughts, haunted by my memories, segregating myself from reality, giving up on living as they would sit watching, wondering to themselves if I would ever snap out of it. I hated it. So I would block them out and usually the click of the door shutting would be the only evidence that some one was in the room.
"Yes, well you know where I am." Even with the pile of covers over me, I could see his awkwardness and his overwhelming guilt. That's probably why he gave me things, things he would have never given me before.
"Yes well here you are," he said with the familiar clang of the water glass and the muffled thunk of the pill against the table. "I will check on you tomorrow," his soft paws against the hardwood floor reminded me of the pitter patter sound a baby makes when he first walks. But soon the soft pitter patter was muffled by the click of the door.
I rolled on my back staring at the white ceiling. Searching for anything.
The air becoming more crisp. My eyes roamed through the thin crowd and landed on Remy standing across from me. My heart wrenched. Our pained eye met. My mouth opened, wanting to mouth something. He closed his eyes and held them shut for a moment or two. Then opened them, still connected to me. My pain reflecting back at me. Breaking from me, he once more fixated on our son's casket in between us. The saddest thing I have ever seen...the tiny casket, no longer than my arm.
I am dwindling as the evening star's glow fades against the rising sun's blazing light. But unlike the evening star, I will not return for the many nights ahead, I will keep dwindling until I become nothing.
I rolled on my side, reached for the pill with one hand and the glass with the other. I popped in the pill and drank the water. I placed the glass on the table and laid back down, waiting for the pill to kick in.
It allowed me to sleep. To sleep peacefully, the only sense of peace I had left. To dream of happier times. The way everything was before.
Brennan may have left me but I could never leave him.
The sunlight flowing. Blades of grass in between my fingers as I kneel. Too much pain. I gasp and moan in between my sobs, everything inside of me directed towards crying for my baby. I fall forward, my ear against the ground. My arms curved out trying to hug the ground. The words "Walk carefully our baby rests here," on a square grave stone. Above it, a baby cherub looking down at me. No one can take me away. I will never go away. I will never let go.
The day was so picturesque.
My mind and body became paralyzed with the feeling of simplicity the pill caused to run through my veins. Sleep was near. Happiness is mine as soon as I close my eyes, encouraging me to do so.
My breathing deep and rhythmic like the ocean. And my mind began to drift way. Drift to my favorite times. Taking me away form everything while warming my heart with the fondness.
The bed shook and creaked, the familiar "haah" sound soon followed. All mine…
--
My hand runs blindly along the folds and bunches of the soft flannel sheets. Must have been a rough night of sleep…
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