Disclaimer: Don't own X-Men Evolution, because if I did, I'd seep my powers into mainstream Marvel and brainwash all of them to get Romy together once and for all. What is up? It's like 'Kill Romy Month' there…
Author's Notes: This is a totally spontaneous fic, that is a one shot, I wrote because I was bored and there was nothing good to do, and I was sorta slacking off writing 'A Mutated Existence'. Plus, we just all need a good dose of Romy. I'd have to say a bit of this fic was brought on by songs, like 'Old Skool Love' by Divine Brown, 'Incomplete' by the Backstreet Boys, 'Slipping Away' and 'Pieces' by Sum41, 'Heaven' by DJ Sammy (it's a cover of the Bryan Addams one, I think) and 'Are You Sad?' by Our Lady Peace, though it's in no way a song fic. That, and reading fics and going argh…we need more Romy…Not to mention, I wanted to try writing something else. I'd think of this as sort of a back bone or outline as to what I see as a good Romy, but I'm definitely not gonna write it like this in 'A Mutated Existence'. I'm doing some different things with that one. Don't worry though, I'll work on it when I finish this, I'm already about half way done with the next chapter, so it'll be up by around Monday, maybe earlier, we'll see, kay? Oh yeah, it'll have angsty references, but this fic, is definitely classified as Romy fluffiness. I guess I just need to let my fluff out because it won't be happening in my other fic for a while.
Oh, and I looked at my new account on and saw all of you who put me on their faves lists, I just have to say, OMG, you like me, and it's totally unexpected, wow, it means a lot to me, and I'm just so surprised and amazed and would just like to extend a huge thank you to all of you for doing so and really liking my other fic. I hope you'll like this too. I'm really surprised, but happy and got this huge warm fuzzy feeling, so thanks a hell of a lot.
Because it's taking awhile to churn out, I'm giving it a couple chapters, just because it's getting a tad too long. So I guess it's not really a one-shot anymore. My other chapters are coming out soon too. I promise, and just for kicks, I've got another one-shot coming, that's a fic that's actually short. So I don't have to put it off for sheer laziness.
Admit it, we all need some good Romy fluff and you all know you want it. Enjoy…I present to you The Road to Forever…
What once was is gone and what is left is the present. That's what she thought about as she brought her pale hand up to brushed a stray strand of pure white hair from her face and studied her reflection in the mirror in a small cluttered room. She watched the wind play with the curtains, the breeze tussling the fabric, remembering the past.
She remembered the beginnings, the times when she'd push him away with acidic words and quick tongue, so that he'd stop annoying her. She remembered the way he still persisted just to see her angry. She remembered her anger and his wit when they'd spar with words and fists. She remembered the way he'd comfort her, when she hurt, when the world got too hard on her and he was the only one who she could turn to because he could understand her and relate, because they'd walked down the same roads. She remembered the games that they played and the attraction that was always there, but eluded their thoughts until one fateful day, it hit them both full force. The queen that he'd given her on the bayou was truly the marker of what was to come for both of them.
She remembered the way his eyes always seemed to lure her in, to capture her, make her want, and need to trust him. She could never resist his eyes. Those pooling orbs of glowing ruby that flickered and glimmered with every emotion that he felt, like a fire, with the darkest onyx surrounding it, that was darker than the night.
The past is no more, faded and decayed, somehow, but still it has its luster, although what shines brightest right now is the present. That's what he thought as he sat alone in the grand luxurious hall, watching the light dance in the room from the sun cascading in through the windows. He moved his hands from inside his pockets to brush back the hair in front of his eyes and remembered.
He remembered her cold words and equally cold shoulder. He remembered her distrust, her anger that directed itself at him, whenever he was present. He remembered the way he'd push her, because she intrigued him and just loved to see her riled up. He remembered the words that spun around them and the physical fights that was a dance. He remembered the way she just knew what he was thinking and could see his pain and give him comfort with just her presence near him because she knew what it was like, knew what it was to hurt, just like he for they'd been down the same roads. He remembered their games that eventually released the hidden attraction that they felt for each other, that seemed to grow without them ever knowing it existed in the first place. He still remembered their first meeting, how in the heat of a battle, his intrigue of her and she him had stopped them for a moment where both were seized by each other's eyes.
He remembered those eyes that he got lost in, eyes that would tell her stories like no words could, as they would never do it justice. He'd never been able to resist them, never once, nor would he ever try. It was something to do with those never ending emerald depths that seemed to reach the heavens of forever and was so pure, like light that cast away all darkness.
Rogue watched as her best friend, Kitty Pyde began to use a curling iron to roll her wavy hair into a combination of loose wavy ringlets in her two toned hair. When Kitty finished her task, she took several bobby pins and pinned part of the hair away from her face and into a multi stranded loose half ponytail that had a twist in the back, leaving the white strands to frame her beautiful face. She stepped back and admired her hair along with Rogue.
"You look beautiful, Rogue," she said simply.
"Thank ya, Kit," replied Rogue, earning a small smile from Kitty as she began to move back towards the vanity and with her small, but precise practiced hands sweep light make up across her face, enhancing her stunning beauty.
"What are you thinking about, Rogue?" she asked engrossed in her task.
"Just Remy," she replied with a smile crossing her plump, yet soft dark pink lips.
Kitty smiled back at her best friend and they sat there in comfortable silence, Kitty brushing on make up in sweeping motions across her face, leaving Rogue to think.
She remembered the first time she saw him, awhile after he'd taken the bullies away from Evan and her, the first time they'd involved themselves in a full scale war of words both scalding and witty to no end. She remembered all she felt and all she revealed to him and all he revealed to her in New Orleans. She remembered the way he was so unafraid, so bold in the way he'd always brush a strand away from her eyes and behind her ears, fearlessly, always fearlessly. She remembered how somewhere between arguing and bantering all the time, they'd begun to hang out together. She remembered how they could talk about everything, and just plainly understand each other and relate. She remembered the day she realized that they were indeed friends, sometime after New Orleans and constant companionship. She remembered the way they'd hide their interactions from both teams, because they felt that there was someone who they could talk to in each other and didn't want it to end.
She remembered the glittering stars, the darkness of night, the mystery of the shadows in which he'd come to the roof of her home, how every night, she'd crawl up onto the roof of the Institute and watch the stars, only to be joined by Remy when he evaded all the security of the mansion and snuck up on the roof beside her, always surprising her with his presence. She remembered all they'd talk about on those nights, when they were still 'just friends', or so they thought. They'd talk about everything, about what the future held, who they were and wanted to be, their hopes and dreams too. She thought back to those nights and the way her hair would blow into her eyes, only to have Remy brush it back. She remembered the way his trench coat would billow out in the breeze and the way he would hold her close as they knew he'd have to go soon, and the way he smelled, like spices and chocolate, knowing that it was all she'd get from their relationship then. It was on those nights that they'd really gotten to know each other. Although, they'd always kept the past behind shadows and partially hidden from each other, and the talk was never to be carried on the status of their respective teams. They were not ones to commit treason, no matter their true loyalties.
Remy was lost in thought as he sat in a chair, one in rows and rows of many chairs in the hall. It was rich with its history and its stories that lay hidden in the columns somewhere. He instinctively felt and knew that someone was approaching him behind, no two someones…yet he knew who they were. They paused to sit behind him.
"You should get dressed, Gumbo, it'll start soon," said the gruff Canadian.
"Ja, meine Schwester shall be here soon," agreed an excited Kurt.
"I know," said the Cajun as a genuine smile crossed his face, still not facing the two as they conversed with him. A silence passed between the three of them and they all soaked it up and relished in it.
"Vhat are you thinking about?" asked Kurt.
"Rogue," replied Remy plainly.
"They'll all be coming soon, bub," said Logan.
"I know," replied Remy as he got up from his chair and began to walk to the exit with Kurt and Logan following soon after. Walking about, it gave him time to think, to remember.
He thought back to the roof where they would meet and talk those nights were something he treasured and to this day, they still talked on the roof, there was just something about it. It was like they could reveal everything to each other with the world below them; the lake, the trees, the mountains; they would all stretch out before them. It was there he felt it, the urge to finally leave Magneto. He couldn't do it anymore, couldn't follow something he was so against, even for blackmail. He knew he had to go, but the timing was never right and he could never think of how he could leave. The situations were never right for it and he couldn't very well leave Piotr and John to deal with Magneto by them selves. No, he was in it together with his new found brothers, and he would only leave, if they could, if they could all be free of the past and all that they held dear that Magneto had been holding over their heads. He would not leave his brothers alone to face his menace. Also, he just didn't think that the X-Men would be warm to welcome him, especially the territorial Wolverine who saw Rogue as his daughter as he had so affectionately dubbed Stripes.
He also knew that he couldn't start a relationship with her, not when his intentions were not clear, even to himself, not when he didn't know her and she him fully, not when she believed in the forever loneliness her touch brought, not when she was afraid for him, not when he was unsure of everything, not when they were supposed to be on opposing sides, not when they had to hide from everyone and not when he had not told her all the truths about him. He couldn't be with her unless he knew that she could accept it all, his past, and him for all he had committed, all he had done, because he couldn't bare it, if she didn't and they were in deep. He had felt so confused and there was just something about her that had always intrigued him from their first meeting that captured his interest and never let go. He didn't know what it was he felt for her, and he didn't seem to know how to ascertain what it in fact was.
Rogue stared at her reflection once again in the mirror, thinking, and Kitty caught on to her look.
"He'll be caught breathless," she whispered, causing Rogue to smile as Kitty helped her friend up after she finished the flawless makeup.
Kitty went to a corner and pulled out the dress that they had so meticulously hidden from view. It was beautiful and something that was symbolizing the purity that had always marked their long relationship. Rogue took it from her as Kitty began to help her get it on her frame, brushing the hair from her neck, without the protection needed from her former curse of a power.
She reminisced to a time when it was not so, when she was so afraid of what would become of Remy, if she were to ever lose control again. She remembered how she thought that a relationship past the friendship they had was impossible, how the current state of it was all she could ever have, and how she wanted more, how she did want to be with him, even if she thought it childish to do so. She had to be strong, had to had to hold true, but every night she seemed to cry too, seemed to feel the pain of it, of not being able to have what everyone else did. She wondered why she was the only one in the world cursed to this. And she was confused. Why did she want this with Remy? Rogue had felt that she barely knew him, yet knew him so well. It disturbed her to know that she could know him so well, and yet know so little of him at the same time, and she just somehow refused to reveal all of herself to him, and he to her. It was something that they always could sense in the other who was hiding, who could not reveal it. She couldn't touch him and she didn't trust herself enough to be with him, so she coped with her pain, her curse.
And what of trust, could she truly trust him and accept him, when it seemed she'd been so betrayed in the past. It seemed that all she had once deemed as important had disappointed her in some way, her supposed best friend and 'mothers'. It seemed that they'd all lied to her, all used her, all manipulated her for their own gain, and it seemed better to protect herself than to be hurt by this, so she had kept him at arms length for sometime, but she was crumbling, always crumbling, she couldn't build up her walls again, not when he looked at her like she was his world, not when he could make her so happy. But she couldn't allow herself to bend to her desires, she'd hurt him, she'd believe.
She remembered the way they'd dance around everything concerning what they felt in their hearts, in their souls, the way something deeper that neither could ascertain always seemed to hang over them and haunt them with its presence. But so much stood in the way and they could not have anything more, not yet, not until things could be made simpler, not until they could admit something to each other, and not before they could admit it to themselves. The truth that had been laid into their hearts was always growing the more they were together, but neither had the mind to act on it yet.
Remy pulled on his crisp black shirt, he could never wear something traditional, he had to make it his own. So it was black and sexy, holding some of his personality revealed. His pants were the deepest red with thin black pinstripes. He always was one for flair. He could stand out in the crowd wearing the most mundane everyday clothes; it was just something about him…something that was in Rogue as well. It was what kept him coming back to her in the beginning and what kept their relationship so strong and so interesting after so long.
She had been afraid of him, of all that he stood for, but he was determined, determined to see her through her fear, and he had earned her trust, and she his, in showing him his good that he had felt eluded him forever. He could see past every façade, every mask, every persona she put up for the world to see, and she could do the same for him, they understood each other that way, in a way no one else could see past. He remembered that he was the first to treat her completely normally and unafraid, he showed her that she was not alone and she needn't hide from the world, and she showed him that he was more than just the thief, manipulator and womanizer that everyone saw him to be, that his heart was true and that everyone's perceptions of him was wrong and he needn't give into their perceptions and be who they wanted him to be. She'd treated him like the man he was, rather than the thief and many other roles he played that was his occupation.
But he had been afraid too, of letting her in, letting her see his darkness. He feared her rejection most of all and he didn't know if he could push her into something. He had been hurt too, and spurned by these feelings he had started to feel for her, but he knew they were more, truer, stronger and vibrant than what he'd felt before and that above all else it was true. She looked at him and he could tell that she'd pass no judgment only try to help him, but he was afraid if she didn't and he couldn't bare not being with his chere, no matter how little it was that they had in a true relationship then.
Little, by little, they'd somehow broken down the walls they had between them. They had somehow become open to each other, although they still guarded their deepest secrets, it was not time to reveal them yet. He knew how she felt, so trapped she was because of her mutation and she had never thought any good of it. She built a prison for herself, her isolation, her defense against intrusions of her mind, her protection from the world and a prison in itself. She was so cold on the outside, like a frozen rose, but he could still see her beauty and was unafraid of her thorns. He lived to see her inhibitions come away and see her light shine through, because when it did, he knew he was in the presence of an angel, his angel, his Rogue, and she'd never know, or so he thought. He knew neither of them could act on their feelings, still too much stood in the way, and he knew they both secretly promised themselves and each other a tentative someday.
Rogue observed the mirror yet again, her masterpiece of hair brushed to one shoulder, as to not distract Kitty from her task of tightening the corset like back of her stark white gown, her blue eyes intent on concentration. She never thought she'd be here with Remy, her thoughts thinking back to the days back when they'd dance around each other and about to make forever what everyone knew was already in their hearts, something so pure and beautiful that no one could ever break, to try would be misery.
Ororo walked in the small room to see her two of her self imposed children. She smiled and watched them for a moment. They were both so grown up, so beautiful, especially the Rogue that had finally found her way in that moment to her. She wore the emerald green bridesmaid dress that Rogue had so lovingly chose as well as Kitty, her most enthusiastic maid of honor. The former weather goddess then approached her two daughters and began to help Kitty with Rogue's dress.
"Oh, Rogue, you look absolutely stunning and we're not even finished with you," she cooed, the ever lasting kindness soothing the anxious, but delighted bride.
"Ah'm naught sure Ah really wanna stick around when you're finished," she joked.
"Don't you dare," admonished the petite Katherine Pryde, "I've like worked much too hard on your hair and makeup."
"You've made her said 'like' again, Rogue," mused an amused Ororo, in a teasing lilt, "it really will be bad, if you don't stick around."
All women laughed and Rogue couldn't help but recall when Remy, Piotr and John finally joined the X-Men after the Apocalypse incident when he asked the boys to do something so horrendous that they just couldn't go through with it even with the blackmail over them. It had shown to Rogue exactly who Remy was at heart and that he did care about others, and very much so even if the others never saw it. She had to admit that she was having a fondness for the fact that she could see him everyday without feeling guilty or dirty, like she was betraying someone when it felt so right to be with him, even when it was limited as to what they were ready to do. They'd still keep to their arguing, but it was more their custom and wit than malignity and spite that fueled their words and they both had to admit that they'd always enjoyed it.
Every fight in the Danger Room was like a dance, one so intimate that they were the only ones that could partake in it. They were flawless when fighting together or apart and it was like they had known each other forever, they could ascertain each of the other's moves and counter. They fought with vigor in each match that none could match. It was a passion that seemed to flow through each of them in the dance they played. They were perfect, protégés of each of their respective mentors and teachers. None could gain the upper hand on the other, because neither party ever wanted it to end, but they were close to evenly matched almost always, sometimes there were advantages, but they were usually taken away by the other in an instant. They fought as equals, and it was always competitive, sometimes playful and full of taunts, but always a true art, always with the drive to win on each their parts, but both would lose their hearts in the end to each other.
Remy pulled on his tie and knotted it in the special way it required. The blood red of the tie contrasted with his black shirt and made him look the every bit of a true heart throb he was, even though it was impossible for him not to be. The Cajun born mutant swung on his black velvet like vest and buttoned up the silver buttons. Kurt and Logan were doing the same in their respective suits. Both wore black suits with red shirts and black ties.
"So Logan, Stormy's gonna be pleased dat she finally coerced y' int' wearin' de suit," said Remy amusedly.
"Yeah, yeah, bub," said the annoyed Wolverine, "Just be glad that you actually picked decent ones."
"Something tells me, Herr Logan, zhat you've been in zhis situation before, but wearing a different suit…" trailed Kurt.
"Don't you dare start, Elf," threatened Logan.
Kurt and Remy looked at each other and laughed earning mumblings from Logan about what could happen to grooms. Remy couldn't help but think about what was to happen soon, and couldn't help but recall all that had led up to the oncoming moment.
He remembered the day it all came to an end, those games they played, when they could no longer deny their feelings for each other, because it hurt more to be apart than to risk being together. Knowing she'd been betrayed by those who she thought were true to her, he knew that he had to prove that he wasn't like them and it would be no easy task. He remembered her capture, by their government, their country. Some of his mutant friends in New Orleans were taken too, and many other mutants were all abducted just because of their mutant genes. It burned him like a brand and made him curse his country, the one that was his nationality for taking her away, for causing her pain. Somehow, he knew, knew that they were hurting her, torturing her, and he could feel it in his bones, haunting him always, taunting him with his inadequacy. He had not been able to save her, he'd been tricked and out of the picture long before they was abducted, and in feeling all her pain and his pain of her not being near, he knew then, knew that he loved her, and no matter what he needed to fully be with her, or forever regret not being able to call her his.
He remembered the day that the X-Men finally found her, and all their other comrades that had been taken captive as well. The X-Men that had not been captured had seen terrible things in the past few weeks, having to deal with a full on human/mutant crisis without all of its members, they'd been hardened by being taken away from their efforts to save their other team mates. It seemed every time they were closing in on finding them and finally rescuing their lost team members, another crisis would spring up and cause them to deal with it first. They'd seen the horrors that men can do if they truly wanted to and everyday they'd pray, pray that this last mission hadn't deterred them from saving their family, their loved ones, and that they were still alright and that they were still alive. He knew then, that in this hell, he was as tortured as she was, as they all were. It didn't matter that you were captured or not, you still faced it, still faced all the revulsion mankind can inflict on the ones that they deem minor and inferior and a stain to their so-called perfection.
She was so frail, so broken and so lost when he finally found her, dirty, emancipated and beaten. Others too, were in her condition. Hundreds of cells had littered the compound. He saw her captivity, her prison and knew that if given the chance, he'd kill them all for harming her, for giving her more issues to deal with, more pain and more suffering. She didn't deserve that. Hell, she deserved better than him and what he could offer her, but he knew that she felt what he did for her, he could sense it in her feel it, whenever she was near. It called to him and asked him to be with her, but at the same time pleaded him to stay away. He remembered the bloodbath that ensued upon the rescue of the captured X-Men. They had to fight every inch to move, to survive, to escape with their captured team mates, friends, family and loved ones. He remembered the enormous pain erupting in his abdomen when he took a blade intended for Rogue. He didn't care then, he thought on, and when they building collapsed, he shielded her with his body, protecting her, he'd never let her be hurt again.
Hey, this is basically half of what I already wrote, but since it's a chapter fic now, I guess I'll just upload the othre half in a few days, so you won't have to wait a rediculously long time for it. It's 36-40 pages long right now...this is a little less than half of what I have written. It's because of this, a one shot, and my other fic, and the poetry that's had A Mutated Existence delayed, that and laziness...the next chap is at 35 pages right now and is about two thirds done, so I'll get that out this weekend, I promise.
I'll be updating soon and REVIEWS help, so DO REVIEW, PLEASE!
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