Disclaimer: Marvel's, not mine.
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Today wasn't really the same. It felt less numb, but as she stumbled out onto the balcony in her underwear and t-shirt not even the warm sun comforted her. She slumped down and let her legs swing off the edge, her forehead resting wearily against the railing.
"Do you feel sick?"
Rogue reached out for one of the wooden poles holding the banister up.
"No."
"Huh." Remy sat down by her side, but didn't touch her. His forehead rested against the wood as well, his eyes on her, to the side.
"How come you get a balcony and Ah don't?"
Remy smiled, one arm snaking in her direction, wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer.
"Are you okay chere?"
His voice was soft against her ear, triggering a set of nerves to shudder down her arm.
"We ain't like everyone else Remy. And Ah don't understand it."
Remy gave a loud sigh and rested his cheek against her let down hair.
"We weren't ever meant to be like other people Rogue. We've always been different."
He could feel her struggle slightly beneath him in resistance to his words.
"Ah mean our relationship Remy. We try and try, and nothing ever comes of it."
Remy tried to concentrate on the rising sun over the lake. He looked at the grass, the trees, the railing. Anything to keep his head resting against hers. But it wasn't in him.
He pulled away. Of course she felt it.
"Something always comes of it chere. There's always a lesson."
"Yeah, don't leave your lover t'die in the freezin' snow," Rogue sneered.
Remy's eyes blazed in her direction, watching her muscles tense in obvious frustration.
"You learned more den dat Rogue."
Her lips pursed, her eyes afraid to look into his.
"Of course Ah did Remy. It was hell for me."
He couldn't help but ask, to know the details. He wanted to hear her say it.
"What was hell?"
"All o'it."
That was it. As much as she would say, or that he could possibly ever hope to hear.
"I'm gonna take a shower," Remy muttered. He watched her nod slowly, her eyes still downcast.
He got up from his position and headed slowly to his private bathroom. Something kept him often unwillingly attached to this woman. She was like fucking fire. He could not let her go. He was fairly certain he would die of it someday.
He stripped off his jeans and started the water. He rubbed his face and swallowed hard at how thin he had become. People didn't seem to notice it like he did. But everything had changed after Antarctica.
Remy closed the glass sliding door after stepping into the shower. It was steaming hot. The only way he could take it these days.
He was in an impossible situation. People would tell him to turn back.
Rogue left him. She would always leave him.
His hands were resting against the tile, head bent down when the knock came lightly on the glass door. He didn't move.
"Yeah?"
He could hear the door sliding open. Looking down, behind him, he could see Rogue standing there, still in her shirt and underwear.
"Ah am sorry Remy."
Remy looked back to the wall, unable to move or respond. He heard her climb in. She let her body rest gently behind him. Melting right in.
He wasn't sure he should let this happen.
But his body told him otherwise, and turning around he pulled her into a hug. She was still clothed, the wet cloth clinging to her.
Her hair clung to the side of her face as Remy rested his palms on her cheeks. She might have been crying, but he couldn't tell.
Instead they stood there, under the water, as if it were the rain. He kissed her lips and was sure nothing would ever fit better than that.
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Remy found her tapping the salt shaker against the counter top, a zoned out expression on her face.
"What are y'doing Jean?"
"It's my night to make dinner," she replied half-heartedly.
"Uh-huh. It's coming along nicely I see." Remy looked around the empty kitchen and back to the woman on the stool.
"Why don't you let me make dinner tonight Jean." Remy moved to the fridge to inspect what he had to work with.
"You don't have to do that Remy," Jean waved a dismissive hand, but made no move to get up.
"Y'know I love to cook."
Jean smiled and nodded.
Remy pulled several things from the fridge and glided gracefully to a drawer on the other side of the kitchen, pulling out a good size pot and a large wok.
"Where's Rachel?"
He watched Jean bite her lip, eyebrows narrowing. She poured a small amount of salt onto the counter and twirled one finger through it.
"She's with her father."
"In Massachusetts?"
Remy turned the two back burners on, his back to her response.
But there was no response, at least not a verbal one. After a brief moment of silence, Remy turned back around.
Jean had her head in her hands. He didn't hear her crying, but he didn't have to. He moved to her side and sat on the stool next to her.
"We were that couple weren't we Remy?" Jean asked through her hands, her voice rough.
"What couple Jean?"
Jean looked up, her eyes red, but no tears visible.
"The perfect one. The couple everyone wanted to be."
Remy nodded yes in reply, mainly for Jean's benefit.
"You were a model couple Jean."
Jean nodded, sucking in a shaky breath and looking to the side.
"I don't understand what happened."
Remy looked down to the counter. He gave an inward sigh and stood up from the table, resting one hand on Jean's wrist.
Remy moved to the stovetop, slightly unsure of what to say next. He pulled out a cutting board and washed off some vegetables in the sink.
But he could sense everything Jean was feeling behind him, as if she were projecting it towards him.
"Y'know Jean, de woman I'm madly in love with left me to die in the cold snow," Remy began. "I lay there for a week." Remy turned around, a small knife in his hand. "But I couldn't get myself to hate her. Now, dat is confusion."
"What are you saying Remy? That Scott just stopped loving me? That's the answer right there in black and white?"
Remy smiled lightly and nodded. "Non chere. I'm saying Scott's as confused as you. I have no doubt dat boy loved you. But it's what you can take, non?" Remy turned back around.
"You know, I was always envious of you and Rogue."
Remy couldn't help but laugh, but he didn't turn back around.
"What Rogue and I have is tragic Jean."
"What you and Rogue have is passionate. It's something Scott and I always seemed to lack. There was always love behind your arguments."
"So much love and so much passion Jean, dat we continue, day by day, to break each other's hearts. It's de stuff o'great romance."
He heard Jean's stool scratch against the floor as she got up.
"Yes it is Remy. It's exactly that."
Jean joined his side, grabbing a knife.
"Do you think you could ever not love Rogue?"
Remy stopped chopping and looked at Jean.
"No."
Jean nodded.
"And do you think, really think, that Rogue could ever stop loving you?"
Remy paused, swallowing slowly.
"No."
Jean nodded again.
"Well then," Jean looked up and gestured across the counter top. "How can I help you out here Remy?"
He admired Jean in that moment. Maybe he would stay.
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Rogue was sitting on the dock at the edge of the lake, a bottle of water in her hand.
Remy joined her side, but said nothing. He had a handful of small pebbles that he began to throw into the water.
"Ah think Ah'm falling back in love with you Remy."
Remy nodded.
"You've always loved me Rogue."
He could feel her hair brushing against his shoulder as she nodded no.
"Ah wouldn't have left you to die if Ah had loved you."
Remy smiled and looked down at his now empty hands. She never really understood.
"Dat just meant you didn't love me well enough chere. But you loved me."
Rogue gave a sigh, feeling it catch in her chest as her heart skipped a beat.
"You were always so damn confident sugah."
She looked to his side, watching his movements.
"You feel it too Rogue." Remy looked up, into her emerald eyes. "De second you become confident too, we can really love each other."
Her tongue was playing with her teeth, the way she always did when she was nervous. Of course she wanted to agree with him.
Her hand slipped to his knee in effort.
"Ah left you to die."
"And you flew back a hundred times trying to find me."
"Who told you that?"
Remy smirked, one hand reaching out for her chin.
"I love being able to touch your skin now Rogue."
She smiled. And forgot.
She leaned in and kissed Remy.
"Are you still married to that woman?"
Remy nodded. "Non chere."
"Will you stay here then?"
"Of course Rogue."
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Remy slipped the bottle of pills into the bedside drawer, next to a pile of throwing spikes. He looked at them and smiled. Reaching beside them, he pulled out a deck of cards.
He would stay Remy LeBeau in these premises, not the man he had become after Antarctica. He knew though that abandoning the feelings that had arisen after that time period would be a useless feat.
So, next he pulled on the tight navy blue spandex of the X-Men uniform and smiled at the simplicity of things.
As he walked out the door, he felt her beady eyes. She was curious. He looked down to the small girl, returning her curiosity, mainly because such a strong presence swelled from her.
"Hello dere petite," Remy whispered.
"Hi."
Her voice was soft, delicate like her mother's.
"What can I help you wit' Rachel?"
"Who are you mister?'
Remy gave a slight smirk and bent down to her level.
"You've met me a couple o'times Rachel. I'm Remy, remember?"
"You don't seem like Remy."
Her green eyes were stern, her position firm as she watched him.
"Well petite, you never knew me."
Remy shifted his weight. Her eyes were far more intense than her mother's. More like Rogue's.
"I feel something."
She was so quiet. She must have been unsure of herself.
Remy stood up.
"Rachel, have your mutant abilities developed?"
She shook her head no as her eyes widened.
And then she took off.
Remy headed towards the danger room. The young girl was strange, but she brought forward feelings he hadn't experienced in a long time.
He would forgive her, her curiosity, even if she may never forgive him.
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