Notes: This is the alternate version of Chapter Forty One of my fic The Dark Roses. It has Romy action that I wasn't sure would completely mesh with the rest of the story, so I'm presenting it as a sidefic.

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Rogue stumbled down from the truck, wincing and pressing a hand against her injured shoulder as pain screamed through the joint. Glancing back at her bloody but proud team, she walked into Mark's shack and glanced around the grand lobby, searching for some sign of Michelle or Remy. A fierce scream erupted from the stifling silence and the Roses jerked, instinctively reaching for their weapons.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Kar demanded, unsure if he should put his knife away.

"Upstairs," Rogue muttered, slowly climbing the stairs and trying to ignore the little starbursts of pain that shot through her weak, injured body.

"I ain't no fucking doctor, missy! I don't know what the hell I'm doing here!"

"Just hold her still! I've got to splint this leg or it won't heal right. Hold her the fuck still, dammit!"

Rogue pushed open a set of double doors and raised an eyebrow at the scene before her. The room was large and filled with cots and hospital beds, various pieces of medical instrumentation dotted about the place, bags of IV fluid lying on trays with packets of blood. Most of the beds were filled with the prisoners they'd rescued, all of them in varying degrees of pain. A few of the lucky ones were unconscious, drifting peacefully in a drugged sleep. Most of them, however, were awake and twitching, whimpering, crying with pain and relief.

Michelle and Mark were standing beside a bed near the window, with Mark holding down a young, blue-haired girl whilst Michelle attempted to splint her leg, which had been broken in three places. Remy was standing in the corner, looking a little lost, and when he saw Rogue he walked towards her immediately. He'd barely stopped before her before he was wrapping his arms around her body and holding her close to him.

"I was worried about you, cher," he murmured into her hair before drawing away. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. How is everyone?"

Remy ignored her obvious lie and turned to look at the injured mutants with a heavy sigh. "They need doctors, and fast. Michelle is doing what she can, but she's not good enough and she can't be in a dozen places at once. Some of them are okay, must not have been there long, but a couple are… on the edge. Infected wounds, bones not set properly, malnutrition, starvation, sleep deprivation… it's a long list."

"Where's Jamie?" Alistor asked. "Can't she help?"

Remy snorted. "She's damn near comatose. Using her powers so much completely wiped her out, she collapsed as soon as they were clear of the base, according to Michelle, and she's been dead to the world ever since."

Rogue turned to look at her team, noting the injuries they were all sporting with a little frown. "Patch yourselves up as best you can," she ordered brusquely, "And then help out wherever you can, at least try to make them comfortable and don't skimp on the sedatives. I want someone to check in on Jamie every fifteen minutes and report any problems or peculiarities to me immediately. We've done the mission, now let's do the clean up."

The Roses nodded and moved further into the room, pulling at their clothing and tossing the torn, bloodstained garments into a corner. Rogue turned towards the door but a hand descended on her shoulder and made her pause.

"You need help, cher," Remy said quietly. "You need to be patched up too."

"I'm fine," Rogue mumbled, twisting her shoulder away from his hand and striding quickly out of the room before he could stop her again. She walked swiftly down the hall, wincing only slightly as her shoulder complained. She walked into her room and glanced briefly at the large bed, but passed on the option of sleeping in favor of having a shower.

The water was scalding hot, pounding against her skin in a fierce pattern, lashing into still-bleeding cuts and beating against tender bruises. It soaked her hair and washed away the dirt, grime and blood from her skin. She opened her mouth to let the hot water spill past her lips and down her throat, making her choke and cough before doing it again, not quite sure why because it burned the roof of her mouth and the back of her throat. Running her hands over her body, she let herself feel her wounds, running her fingertips over the edges of cuts, pressing against the livid bruises. She put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed, biting her lip as the pain shot through her body.

Rogue collapsed to her knees, feeling the water from the shower beat against her back and neck. Her body trembled with unshed tears, the need to sob and shout and scream and cry clawing at her throat and making her shake violently.

He was dead. She had killed him. After all the waiting, all the pain and the tears and the anger and all of it, he was finally dead. He couldn't hurt her anymore, couldn't control her or threaten her. He couldn't hurt her family, they were safe from his evil. She didn't have to worry about him anymore.

Tears splashed onto her cheeks, mingling with the shower water, and a loud, broken sob escaped her. She barely noticed when the shower door slid open, or that someone had turned off the water, the sudden chill making her shiver even more.

But then someone was kneeling down beside her, a gloved hand sweeping her wet hair off her face and caressing her cheek. Someone was pulling her shoulders, careful of the injured one, tugging her towards them, and after a moment's resistance, she let herself fall, clinging to their warm body and letting the tears and the sobs consume her.

Remy sighed and closed his eyes, holding Rogue for long minutes without ever saying a word. When Rogue had finally calmed down, he was the first one to let go, smiling down at her confused face.

"You never ask for help, cher," he murmured, trailing a fingertip down her cheek. "But that doesn't mean you don't need it."

He moved without warning, and if she'd been feeling better she might've been able to jerk away, but as it was, all she could do was watch as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Instantly, there was the sharp pull in the pit of her stomach, with a direct line of fiery electricity to the point of contact, as she sucked in just a little bit of Remy's essence.

She pulled away with a gasp, staring wide-eyed at the feelings that flooded her heart-warm, soft, fuzzy, comforting, it was a confusing blend of texture and feeling and sound and smell, it was everything she'd ever loved and everything that she'd ever wanted. It was love, in its purest form, and it was directed at her.

A memory rushed up to meet her, enveloping her mind and whisking her away to the past.

She was crouching in a tree, being careful to stay hidden in the shadows, not making a sound, just like she'd been taught. She'd been waiting so long, she was ready to give up hope, maybe Lady Luck just wasn't with her today, but then, it happened-the door opened, and in walked the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen, dressed scantily in a small white towel, her auburn hair still dripping water onto her shoulders. She was lean but muscled, feminine curves hiding the strength she'd accumulated through rigorous training. Full, luscious lips curled in a quiet smile, she walked to the dresser and studied her reflection in the mirror. She frowned slightly at what she saw, as if dissatisfied, and Rogue thought, no, that's wrong, don't you realise how beautiful you are? Don't you know how stunning and amazing and perfect you are? Don't you know?

Rogue blinked, coming slowly back into the present, and stared at Remy, who was watching her with intent eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died on her lips. Remy smiled wryly, as if he'd just thought of an amusing joke he heard last week.

"It's okay, cher," he murmured. "I don't need you to love me back. I just wanted you to see through my eyes for a second. All your scars, all your nightmares, all your pain… you're still beautiful to me."

Then he stood up and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him, and left Rogue kneeling in the shower, trying to understand what had just happened.