Disclaimer: Marvel's, not mine.
Thanks to my reviewers! You're questions can probably only be answered once this story is finished, but it shouldn't be that complicated.
……………………………..
He was outside smoking a cigarette as if he had never quit. He wore a pair of black leisure pants, and nothing else, his hair disheveled from sleep.
Rogue loved him like this, even with the cigarette. But she wondered if he was even the same Remy she had come to love.
"It's a bit early for you t'be up, ain't it chere?"
His eyes didn't meet hers, the cigarette dangling from his lips dangerously.
"Ah thought you'd quit smoking Remy."
Two fingers wrapped around the white stick, pulling it from his mouth slowly, dislodging it into the cement step of the entryway.
"No one ever really quits their bad habits Rogue." His eyes rolled up to face her, his trademark smirk lighting up his face.
Rogue sat down beside him, but made sure not to touch him.
"How did your father die Remy?"
Remy smiled and looked down at the pack of cigarettes at his feet.
"You're quite de sleuth dere petit."
"You reserve 'petit' for the younger ones Remy. Be straight with me." Her eyes were burning, but he didn't notice.
He looked back up, the annoying smile still on his face.
"You are younger Rogue."
"How did he die Remy?"
"I don't know chere, I was busy dying in de snow," Remy replied with annoyance.
Her eyes half closed as she nodded.
"We've gone over my apologies on that Remy. Where have you been?"
Her tone had turned to pleading and her fingertips reached out for him, but he ignored those too, reaching instead for another cigarette.
His fingertip lit up a bright pinkish red against the cigarette. She had missed that move during the years she had thought him dead. But, now it was just a distraction.
"I was alone Rogue. I was brought back to de United States by an anonymous source. My father was dead. Killed by de hands of an assassins guild because of a bad deal." Remy snorted and took a long drag from his cigarette. "I was better off alone anyway."
She rested her hand on his bare arm. "Remy, Ah am sorry."
"Sorry doesn't cut it in dis world chere."
But his fingers reached up and curled around her own anyway, grasping them tight in some form of reassurance.
…………………………………………
"I was looking through some old photos this morning Rogue," Jean began, as Rogue poured herself coffee later that morning. "And I came across this great picture of you and Remy at Scott and I's wedding."
Rogue looked up as she set the coffee pot down.
"Should you be rehashing the past like that hon'?" Rogue asked as gently as she could that early in the morning.
Jean ignored her and continued. "Remy looks so young. I should give the picture to you."
Rogue set her cup down next to Jean.
"It's 6 in the morning on a Sunday Jean. What are you doing up?"
Rogue could see Jean's jaw clenching.
"I just – I thought, well, actually, I couldn't sleep. I went to bed so early last night. And, I felt like organizing."
"You felt like organizing at 5 in the morning?"
Jean watched Rogue sip her coffee, her eyes lowering as her composure wavered.
"Life is different when you're alone Rogue."
Rogue reached a consoling hand out to Jean.
"And no one knows that better than me Jean."
Jean tried a smile, but quickly removed her arm from Rogue's touch.
"You should probably know I sense a lot of confusion from Remy."
Rogue gave a nervous laugh. "That's not that surprising Jean."
Jean let her finger run around the rim of her cup.
"I know, its just, his level of nervousness hasn't changed since he first arrived here. And he's been her for over a month now."
"What are y'trying to say Jean?"
The older woman met Rogue's eyes.
"It's probably nothing Rogue. But, in the past, Remy has kept his emotions at bay. I rarely ever saw them. And now they are so close to me," Jean paused. "As if he is having a hard time containing them."
Rogue nodded, unsure of what to say.
It was Jean's turn to console.
"Just talk to him. Find out why he is nervous. He shouldn't feel that way here."
And once again she nodded.
"But can you blame him sugah?"
…………………………………..
Rogue awoke a week later to the sound of rain hitting her window loud and hard. She had left her balcony door open, and moaning, she rolled out of bed and stumbled over to close it.
The rain was hitting the ground like needles, but Rogue stopped and took a deep breath, feeling a sense of refreshment.
She wondered if Remy could take moments like these outside anymore, or if his time in the snow had destroyed them.
She pulled her robe closer to her chest and shivered. Looking back at the clock she saw it was 5:30 in the morning. Some of the X-men may already be up.
She tied her robe around her and headed for the kitchen to get coffee started. As she walked past Xavier's old office, she could see the door slightly ajar, a figure hunched over at the desk.
She crept slowly and quietly towards the entrance, fitting her slim body through the opening.
Scott Summers lifted his head up in a worn motion. If she could see his eyes behind the glasses, she imagined they would be red with fatigue.
Rogue bit her lip and moved forward with caution. Scott still hadn't said anything.
She sat down at the chair opposite him, and tried to see what he was reading. It was too dark. "What are ya doing here Scott?"
Scott looked back down at the desk, and rested a hand on his forehead in strain.
"I'm in such a terrible place Rogue."
This wasn't the leader she knew.
"Ah think Ah know a certain red head who's doing a hella' lot worse." Rogue crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. She couldn't feel pity for him yet.
"Rogue I made the biggest mistake of my life." He was looking at her again. At least she thought he was.
"Uh-huh."
"For the worst reasons possible. And I lost the love of my life because of it."
Rogue stared at Scott with measured eyes.
"What happened Scott?"
"I honestly don't know now Rogue." She could hear the shakiness in his voice. "One day, I just, I don't know, I never wanted to hurt Jean."
"Then how did you do it?" Rogue asked with incredibility.
"I don't know Rogue. How did you leave Remy to die in the snow?"
Rogue sat upright. Of course he would bring that up. Everyone did. And they always would.
"That was different Scott. Ah absorbed Remy and everything he was feeling. You left Jean in cold blood for another woman!"
"It wasn't cold blood Rogue. I just needed something different." Scott sat back with a loud sigh. "And once I got it, I realized how worthless it was. And now I just feel sick."
Rogue stood up. "Well, Ah don't know what t'tell ya sugah. Except you best leave before the rest of the team wakes up."
Scott shook his head. "I'm here to see Rachel. I need to see my daughter."
Rogue nodded in understanding as she headed for the door.
But really she didn't understand, despite everything she had done to Remy.
"Good bye Scott."
She could feel him nod.
………………………………………..
"Scott's here," Remy mumbled as he opened the refrigerator. "Just thought y'should know Jean."
Jean sat up straight and quickly covered her left hand and the wedding ring that still remained on her finger.
"Did you see him?"
"Don't y'guys have some sorta connection that allows you to feel each other's presence?" Remy asked, ignoring her first question.
Jean slumped back down in her chair. "That bond disappeared a while ago Remy."
Remy poured milk over his cereal and sat down on a stool at the counter, looking over to the table at Jean.
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, eh Jean?"
There was a pause as Remy crunched his cereal and Jean looked down at the table.
"Don't take this the wrong way Remy, but, do you even want to be an X-Man anymore?"
Remy smiled, his spoon in mid air. "What's de matter Jean, sensing something?"
"Just nervousness."
Remy scoffed. "Yeah, well I'm never sure when another X-Man may want to try and kill me." There was a slight sense of sarcasm to his tone.
Jean smiled in sympathy. "Of course Remy. It takes time to heal all wounds."
Remy stood up and moved to the sink to wash his bowl out.
Jean played with her wedding ring as Remy moved on silent feet to the door. He turned just as he was about to leave.
"To answer your question though Jean. No. I don't really want to be an X-Man. Not anymore."
Jean sat up, slightly taken off-guard, and quickly she tried to entire his mind.
"Why Remy? Why are you still here?"
Remy stopped in the hallway.
"For love Jean. Now get outta my head."
Remy smiled as he felt Jean leave his thoughts. It seemed love was a good enough answer for everyone.
………………………………………….
Remy watched Rogue change without her knowing. Quietly he stepped up behind her, his arms slipping around her bare waist.
She stood in just her bra and underwear, but she didn't flinch or shiver at Remy's touch anymore.
"I like dis outfit best chere."
"You would sugah." Her voice was soft as she spun around in his arms to face him.
"Ah can't remember how Ah lived without being able t'touch you Remy."
Remy smiled and kissed her lips softly. His hands went down her back, her smooth skin, and wondered how he would ever be able to let go.
He would forget pain in times like these. Everything was ok here. And he knew she felt the same. Her hands slipped inside his shirt, fingers playing around his waistline.
She pulled him tightly to her, and he moaned slightly. He wasn't sure if in pleasure or the pain of thinking about pain.
He kissed the side of her neck and wished he could do it forever. He wanted his lips to meld to that patch of skin on her neck. To forever have her touch.
He pulled his shirt over his head as she unbuckled his belt and jeans. He was glad that they had at least been able to become familiar.
They lay on the bed naked together, Rogue's body meshing perfectly on top of his.
"Remy," she started slowly, eyes at his neck. "You want to be here, right?"
Remy rolled over, placing himself on top of her.
"Rogue, dis is my favorite place to be."
She smiled with the lips that Remy would always love best, and he kissed her with tears in both their eyes.
This would be the last perfect hour.
…………………………………………
"Scott. We need to work out a schedule."
Scott set Rachel down carefully and watched her run to her drawing table.
"I was afraid you would say that."
"Can we talk in the kitchen?" Jean's voice was stern, and Scott felt his heart freeze at lost opportunity.
"Sure Jean."
He followed her downstairs, knowing Rachel would be alright by herself for a few minutes. She was smarter than most her age. She understood something that he was afraid he didn't.
Scott walked slightly behind Jean, in an effort to watch her. She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever met, despite his disloyalty.
Jean leaned against the kitchen island, and Scott stood opposite her, the counter between them.
"How are you Jean?"
"That's a stupid question."
Scott nodded and began to fidget. She was much more intimidating now. Now that he had tremendous guilt on his side.
"Look," she began. "We need to figure out what to do about Rachel. We're lucky she's as mature as she is for her age already. But, her daddy can't just show up whenever he's tired of fucking his girlfriend."
Scott winced. "Jean, really."
"Really what Scott? We only see you once or twice a month now. Am I really so far off?" Her red hair seemed to be flaring as she leaned across the counter.
So Scott leaned in too. "Yes Jean. Yes you are far off."
Jean smiled bitterly.
"I'm an idiot Jean. I love Rachel. I can't stand to be without her."
He could see her lower lip trembling.
"But I miss her mother just as equally."
Jean looked up, but downcast her eyes quickly.
"Don't lie to me Scott."
"You know I'm not lying. You can read my mind."
Jean looked up, tears developing. Scott leaned further across the counter and kissed her.
It was a fiercely emotional moment, but Jean pulled back quickly.
"Oh my god."
"I'm sorry Jean," Scott began, but she placed a hand in the air to stop him.
"It's Logan Scott. He just sent me a distress signal."
……………………………………………..
Remy stood by the lake looking back at the huge mansion.
From here he could see the X-Men's variable hidden resources, from the hatch in the mountain, to the numerous security systems in the front yard.
They hadn't even changed their security since he had left. He smiled. Of course, not everyone was a thief like Remy.
"What're you doing out here bub?"
Remy shrugged, but didn't answer.
"Taking a break from training? I thought it was your day in the Danger Room?"
Remy nodded.
"Oui. I guess it is."
He could feel Wolverine's eyes roam over his black, slim line attire.
"You're dressed for it Cajun. What's going on?"
Remy knew Logan was fast, but he also knew he was faster. His lit up throwing spikes flew into Wolverine's face quicker than the man could react, scarring his face and knocking him to the ground. Remy had used a high level of power.
It would be a little while before the old man woke up.
He looked down at Wolverine, a new slew of spikes in his palm. But, turning swiftly, he headed back towards the mansion instead.
And he could not wipe the smile off his face despite his aching heart.