A/N: cowers with hands over head while hiding under desk, which is quite a great feat since it's so tiny-sheepishly speaks Please don't kill me…
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Rogue woke with a start. She must have fallen asleep again, though she didn't know when or for how long she had been slumbering. Raising her head from the mattress where she had been lying next to Remy, she looked across the bed for Kurt. His absence told her she must have been out for a while. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jean and Hank consulting over some information displayed on the Med Lab's computer. As the sleep started to clear from her mind, she started to remember what she had been dreaming.
Memories of the intensity of love Remy showed her the day she tried to escape her past washed through her. Suddenly, she was at peace with her choices. No matter what happened she knew he would always love her and somehow she knew he was aware of how much she loved him. Whether it was her earlier confession or the unseen, unfathomable bond between them, she wasn't sure. She just knew it was okay to let go. For some reason tears started to fill her eyes.
As she stood to look at his face once more, Rogue reached out to caress his cheek. Even as battered as he was, she still found him irresistibly handsome. However, before her bare hand could make contact with Remy's face a loud pop broke the steady rhythms around her. Suddenly, the ventilator sounded shallowly hollow and the beeps from the heart monitor became erratic. The alarming noises grabbed Hank's attention as he rushed into the Intensive Care Module. Jean wasn't but two steps behind him. As they moved to take life saving positions around Remy, Rogue got out of the way, but never let her grasp on his hand loosen.
"The ventilator's caused tension pneumothorax. We're going to have to needle decompress his lung."
Jean busied herself with checking Remy's left side as Hank went to work with the large-bore needle on the Cajun's right. A loud gush of escaping air signaled to the two doctors the procedure was working, but they would still have to hurry. Rogue watched in horror as they did their best to repair the now dual collapsed lungs. As the two doctors rushed about inserting a new tube to his other lung, the ventilator labored increasingly. Remy's skin began to turn an eerie blue.
"He's going into acute hypoxemic respiratory failure. Please prepare him for endotracheal intubation, Jean."
"Get that oxygen going and the mask over his nose and mouth."
Even with their hurried efforts, Remy began to seize. The confusion of the situation around her was drowned out as Rogue recognized the unearthly, gut wrenching steady tone of the heart monitor. She felt a tight squeeze around her hand before Remy went limp. A few labored exhalations signaled his passing.
"It's too late. He's arresting."
"Commencing Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation."
As Hank began the hand compressions to Remy's chest, Jean rushed about preparing the defibrillating paddles and needles full of medications. The defibrillator started a high pitch beep as it signaled its full charge was ready to be dispersed. Jean came over with the paddles while Hank smeared the electrode jelly on Remy's chest.
"Defibrillating at 200 Jules. Clear!"
Remy's body jumped slightly from the bed, and after a slight pause in the unwavering tone, its eerie wail returned.
"300 Jules. Clear!"
Still the heart monitor detected no pulse.
"360. Clear!"
Nothing.
Hank resumed CPR as Jean grabbed the first needle. Inserting it into his IV, the two continued their efforts to save the dying man. Tears flowed unabatedly down Rogue's cheeks.
"Administering epinephrine."
The defibrillator once again beeped its readiness. Hank finished the required minute of CPR before signaling to Jean to continue.
"Defibrillating at 360 Jules. Clear!"
When nothing happened again, Hank reached over for the second needle. He inserted the medication into the IV.
"Administering 300 milligrams of amiodarone."
"360 again. Clear!"
The monitor continued its uninterrupted pitch. Hank grabbed the third needle, only to inject it into Remy's endotracheal tube.
"1 milligram of lidocaine."
"360. Clear."
As the two physicians worked to revive the Cajun, Rogue slowly stepped away. When she felt him squeeze her hand, she knew he was no longer with her. The pattern continued much like the last three minutes. It seemed like it was forever, but in all actuality only fifteen minutes had passed since Remy released his final breaths. Decisively realizing there was nothing they could do to bring him back, Jean turned off the monitors as Hank began removing the various tubes.
"Record time of death at 11:32 hours."
With the recovery complete, the two doctors left the room so Rogue could have a final private moment with Remy. Timidly approaching, she wouldn't be denied the memory of the feel of his skin. Reaching out, she first caressed the back of his hand. The elegance of it was only further enhanced by his long, thin fingers. As much as he played with his cards, he had no calluses on them and the skin was perfectly smooth. She slowly ran her fingers up his arm, across his bicep and chest, and grazed the stubble that had grown out since the last time he shaved. It was rough and scratchy, but above his unshaved jaw line was the soft skin belying the hardness of his cheek bone.
Rogue continued her upward journey to entangle her fingers in the long strands of silky auburn hair. Burying her hand into the rich locks above his ear, she leaned down to kiss his lips. Needing one more kiss to heal her open wounds, she decided the action was the best thing she could do. In death, she was finally able to savor the feel of their lips pressed together. She had the control, yet never allowed him, or herself for that matter, to experience such affection. Noticing Remy's lips were still warm, she closed her eyes to better remember the sensation. Dampness slid down her cheeks and landed with a small splash on his face. Opening her lips a little, she flicked out her tongue to lightly taste the flavor left on his lips. Since her tears ran over their mutual touch, she could only distinguish the delicate saltiness.
Breaking her contact with him, Rogue took one last look at Remy. She didn't see the ugly bruises and stitches that marred his face. Instead, a memory of him sleeping peacefully superimposed itself in the forefront of her mind. His voice echoed around her and she thought she heard him say "it's not real, chere, don' believe it."
"This is real. This is real."
She kept repeating the phrase silently to herself as she turned away from his body. All the X-Men were standing in the main area of the Med Lab. Kurt rested lightly against the frame of the Intensive Care Module's entrance. Moving to his waiting embrace, Rogue couldn't let go of the words echoing in Remy's voice through her head. As much as she tried to believe her own phrase, her whole mind revolted to the complacency in which she was falling. She heard him one last time, but what was weird was he was speaking in her accent.
'Don't let meh go.'
There would be no way she would ever let go of him. As she rested her head on Kurt's shoulder, she closed her eyes to push out the last few remaining tears. Rogue let the events of the last half hour sink in completely. Remy's echoing voice brought a different comprehension to her mind.
'This seems real to me.'
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R/R: Since I fear impending doom, I'll keep this short. Thank you to everyone who is reading (notice the tense: is reading, not who read!) and to my Fix Feeders:
giggety giggety goo: Nope. Didn't happen in the books that way. Wanted to change it up a little bit since this is movieverse. :) Thanks for Feeding the Fix!
MJK: Sorry. Didn't mean to confuse you. I mean, yeah I did, but not that bad. Just wanted to throw some things in that would make you question what was happening. Anyway, I don't know about Kurt's phraseology…you'll just have to wait and see. :) As for knowing about their heritage, the team knows they are siblings and that Mystique is their mother, but only Kurt, Rogue, and Remy know exactly how she told them/her mind game. So, I hope that clears up the confusion a bit. Thanks for Feeding the Fix!
WolvGambit Le Diable Blanc: Still think this is wonderful? Well, like I said, don't kill me. Yet. :) Thanks for Feeding the Fix!
ishandahalf: Don't worry. They're really subtly hints. If I made them obvious, you'd know what was going to happen, and I can't have that, now can I:) Did Kurt say Remy was Rogue's husband, or did Rogue just hear that? And no, Remy's not that sneaky. Not this time around. And those voices, well, that's my little secret for me to know and you to find out! LOL! Your conclusion sounds plausible, and I think I can see where it came from, but maybe you're right-you're mind does work in mysterious ways. Now, I didn't mean to make you twitchy, and I'm sure this chapter only made it worse. I know it's going to be hard, but please try to stay calm. I don't need you having a twitch attack or something. Okay? Well, back to the matter at hand. Thanks for Feeding the Fix!
Prexistence: Yeah, I don't like Mystique either, and yes, she is a cruel, ugly little woman. Like the one that lives below my apt., but that's another story. Like I said, I'll tell you all the hints, lay them out, and explain them, so don't worry about finding them. :) Okay, you can keep Logan incapacitated for a while. He's not needed much, so it's not a biggie after all. Let me guess, you didn't love this chapter as much as previous, hmm? Just remember, you don't want your chipmunk to come kill me, or I won't be able to post. Thanks for Feeding the Fix!