Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to whoever owns X-Men Evolution.
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Rogue gradually slowed, as did her temper, and found herself wandering under the shadows of Bayville high. Miserably, she made her way to a picnic table and slumped down over its rough surface. So, what now? It finally occurred to her that she had no clue as to where she was headed, or where she was going to stay. Remy would help her, he would take her in. Or at least help her somehow. But where could she find him?
As if searching for his figure, her eyes darted around the empty school grounds, her breath and the insect chirping the only sounds that vibrated the air around her ears. It was hopeless. She would have to rough this night out on her own. No problem; she could do it. First, she had to find a place to crash. She was tempted to stay under the familiar school building, but like hell would she ever risk over-sleeping and being found by the other students looking like a homeless street urchin. It crossed her mind that, basically, she really was a homeless street urchin, now, but her pride fought it violently out of her thoughts. No, she would go somewhere else.
Gathering up her suitcase, she wandered off, finding a park not too far away from Bayville High, complete with benches and a small playground. Small decorative street lamps illuminated the area, providing a reassuring glow, and she let herself smile slightly, though the expression did not quite reach her eyes. This would do, and tomorrow, she would catch Remy at school. Or rather afterschool, if she did not make it to class, which was looking more and more like the case the longer she thought about it. For one, she was sure she was not going to get much sleep tonight, and for another, she really did not want to see her former teammates so soon. Sighing, she set her things down on a bench and made her way to the merry-go-round, resting her hand on one of its many bars and giving it a slight push. Pursing her lips, she got on, pushing until it was spinning at a fair speed, whipping her hair about her face. What she would give to be a kid again, innocent and naive. The world was still a happy place. Briefly, she felt a desire to return home, to Caldecott County, Mississippi. But it was a foolish desire. She would not be wanted there any more than she was wanted up here. And it was not like she could return to the time before her powers manifested, before she had absorbed all of those psyches. She crumpled into a crouch, her hands still clinging to the bars of the merry-go-round. She had thought that once her powers could be controlled, once she was able to touch again, all her problems would have been solved. She could be arguably normal, at least normal for a mutant. She was a mutant; she would never forget that. As much as she may want to wish away her mutant abilities, they were what made her who she was; the professor was right about that.
Professor Xavier. He had given her so much. And Logan, he was like a father almost. Ororo, Mr. McCoy; she knew she would miss the adults. And Kurt, Kitty. Bobby, and the rest of the newbies. Maybe even... Her mouth pulled into grimace; she would not say their names. But no, she could not have stayed there. She just could not have. It was not for her. She did not belong. They did not want nor need her there. It was not home, they were never family, as much as they tried to convince her that they were. She could not have stayed.
Still, the doubts lingered in her mind that she had made a mistake, and she stubbornly walked off the still twirling merry-go-round, stumbling slightly over the mulch. She made her way to the swings, taking one and gently swaying back and forth. Closing her eyes and tilting her head back, she tried to let the cool night air clear her thoughts, calm her senses, when a familiar voice rang gently through the air. "Ain' it a bit late f' y' t' be payin' a visit t' de playgroun', cherie?"
Rogue brought herself to a stop, her head spinning around to find the source of the voice, and found Remy finally, leaning against a nearby tree. "Ain' it a crime ta be playin' stalker, swamp rat?" she quipped, though by her soft smile, Remy could tell she was pleased that he was there.
"Remy was takin' his nightly stroll, petite. What's y' excuse?"
Rogue hesitated momentarily, as she got up from the swing to move closer to him. "Ah... Ah need a place ta stay, Remy. Ah left the X-Men." There was only a slight tremor to her soft voice, but Remy could make it out easily. He eyed her critically for a moment, the red of his pupils glowing piercingly through the darkness, and she averted her gaze slightly. "Don' ask meh why... not right now.." She lifted her eyes to his once more, and even in the darkness, he could make out the threatening well of tears in her eyes. "But could ya help meh.. please?"
He grinned chivalrously, moving forward to caress her cheek with his gloved hand. "Of course, cherie. Remy never turn down a damsel in distress." Kissing her forehead through a lock of white hair, he nodded towards her. "C'mon, I live nearby." When she hesitated, he shook his head. "Non, it isn' Magneto's base. Got better taste den t' bunk wit' t'ree ot'er men. At leas' when de boss don' need Remy."
She let out a soft chuckle, though it was only a ghost of her former full-hearted laugh. "Then what are we waitin' fo', swamp rat?"
*****
In a matter of minutes, Rogue found herself standing in a very plushly furnished apartment, in a complex that was literally moments from school. "Hey, if ya live this close, whay do ya even bother with th' motorcycle? Cain't ya jus' walk?" A black leather couch and a matching loveseat sat at an angle, pointing towards a tv that rested in the corner, by the window. In the center, there was a small rectangular chestnut coffeetable, upon which he had stacked a mess of magazines. She undid her scarf and tossed it onto said table, as if putting her mark possessively in the room. "Ya got a nice place." Through a doorway, she could make out the kitchen, panel-less cupboards revealing loads of food and ingredients; while above the sink hung a multitude of cooking utensils, and various pots and pans. A small round table sat simply in the center, accompanied by a couple of matching chairs. She wandered over, past the kitchen, to hover between the door to the bathroom and the door to the bedroom.
Remy smirked as he flopped down onto his couch, letting her explore. "T'anks, petite. An' oui, Remy could walk, mais where's de fun in dat? De filles, dey like de bike." He idly picked up a magazine and pretended to flip through it, though his eyes were clearly watching her. "'Sides, Remy don' do walkin' t' school."
Rogue snorted in reply, glancing into the bathroom. It was scented slightly with vanilla, enough to be delightful, but not too much to be overpowering. He was equipped with the usual facilities: bath, toilet, and sink; but what made it Remy were the candles that decorated the sink and around the tub. It was spacey, and Rogue could not help thinking that it was meant to be shared. A smirk crossed her lips at that, and she turned to enter the bedroom. The only light came from two lamps that were hung on the wall on either side of the bed, providing a soft sensual glow; moodlighting. A large king-sized bed graced the center of the room, complete with large fluffy pillows and crimson-colored satin sheets. Rogue felt her face heat up as she stared, its purpose obvious, and she took a few steps towards the balcony to divert her attention. She could feel the dark cushiony carpet spring under her feet as she took note of the paintings on the walls, impressive replicas, or rather, if she knew Remy, originals. A couple of decorative ferns grew in expensive china pots in the corners of the room, and Rogue could see through the sliding glass doors that they were on the balcony too.
She was in the process of peering outside through the glass, her nose almost touching the window, when Remy interrupted her thoughts. "Y' can see almost everyt'ing from dere." He came up beside her, giving her a wink as he smoothly unlocked the door with a click, sliding it open. "Let's go f' a look-see, hm? It'd be very romantic." He emphasized his last word, grinning and bowing his head slightly with a sweep of his hand that said, 'After you, cherie.'
She smirked, tossing her hair as she passed by him to step out onto the balcony. They were several floors up, his apartment being on the highest floor of the apartment complex, and the view was incredible. The moon lightly frosted the landscape with a soft silvery radiance, and the stars twinkled brightly against the distant horizon, where the blue-black sky met the earth. It was an awing scene. The high school looked almost like it was directly below them, and she could make out the decrepit-looking brotherhood house, a fair distance away from where they stood. In a slightly different direction, she could make out the shape of the mansion, her former home. She turned her head away suddenly, closing her eyes tightly against the sight.
"Chere.." whispered Remy, as he came up behind her, slipping his arms carefully around her waist. "What's wrong?"
She took in a shuddering breath and leaned back against him. "Remy..."
"Tell me, petite."
"Ah had ta leave th' mansion. Ah jus'... They didn' want meh. Ah couldn' stay."
"They didn' wan' y'? Chere, y' sure?"
"Gawd, Remy, don' argue with meh right now, please!" She pulled away from him, slumping over the balcony railing. "Scott said so. They didn' trus' meh, they didn' want meh. Even though Ah can touch now."
Remy blinked, freezing. "Y' can what?"
"Touch, Remy." Rogue stood up straighter and turned towards him, extending her bare hand towards his cheek. He looked at her warily, not quite believing her. "It's okay, Remy. Mr. McCoy and th' professor, they gave meh this chain," she gestured towards her neck with her free hand, "and it negates mah powers." She leaned forward and caressed his cheek, her eyes fluttering to a close and her lips curving into a smile as she felt the stubble rub coarsely across her palm. "See?"
Remy lifted his hand to hold hers against his face, revelling in how soft her skin was. Never had he ever imagined how peaceful, how purely in love her touch could really make him feel. He stared at her, and her brilliant green eyes lifted to meet his piercing red. He could have her now. He could take her, and forever could he boast that he had touched the untouchable. He took a stumbling step towards her, extending his arms so that his hands held her face. He would take her. Take her and then leave, like he did so many times before. She was routine. He had no attachment. He would leave her in the morning, and she would soon be forgotten like all the others. He pulled back a bit to remove his gloves, letting them drop to the floor as he caressed her cheek once more. But why was his heart beating like this? Like a heavy drum, threatening to break out of his chest. Why was he feeling so dizzy, so intoxicated, drunk with her touch, though they only amounted so far to a gentle brush, skin against skin? Why didn't he feel the normal carnal urges, to almost violently take what he wanted from her body, to ravage her all night and into the early morning? Instead, he wanted to hold her, caress her gently, touch his lips to hers, instead of probing deeply with his tongue. He wanted to love her.
It scared him, and when he noticed her leaning forward, tilting her head up to ask for his lips on hers, he broke away suddenly. "Non, Rogue," he choked. "Not like dis."
Hurt crossed her eyes and she began to close up again. "Why not?"
"It's not right, chere." His eyes darted along the ground as he searched for an excuse, a way to stall. "It's not de right moment. I want... I want our first real kiss t' be somet'ing memorable, somet'ing real romantic."
"Ah thought ya said that this balcony heah was romantic."
"Non, chere. It's not perfect 'nough." He extended his hand, his usual smirk plastered on his face, though his lips twitched with the effort. "It's gettin' late, an' don' we have school t'morrow?"
She hesitated, but reluctantly took his hand, allowing him to take her inside. He released her to close and secure the glass door, leaving her to look at the bed. "Remy..."
He turned to look at her, glancing over at what she was looking at. "Non, petite, not t'night." He gave her a half-hearted grin, but had to duck his head to hide the strained look in his eyes. He tried to put his usual teasing tone into his voice, and only barely succeeded. "Remy too tired... mais, if y' wan' t' do all de work..."
Rogue's face burned a deep crimson and she shoved him away roughly. "Ya perv!" She stepped over to sit on the bed, running her fingers gently through the soft fabric. "Ah wasn' gonna ask fo' that." She lifted her eyes to his, and he all of a sudden felt arrested, frozen to the spot by the startling green. "But... could ya... I mean, would it be okay if ya.. if ya held meh tonight?"
She was not going to make things easy on him, was she? A part of him questioned why he was even hesitating, but at the same time, he was afraid about what it would end up making him feel. "Be my pleasure, cherie." He wagged his eyebrows. "But y' sure y' trus' Remy?"
Rogue looked at him silently for a moment, before she answered, completely serious. "With all of mah heart."
Remy's breath hitched and he cleared his throat to disguise it. "Yea..."
*****
He lay awake long after Rogue had already left for the land of dreams. She slept in his arms in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, while he had slipped on a wifebeater and a pair of loose drawstring pants. He actually had felt awkward as she laid herself down beside him, letting his arms drape loosely around her body, tentatively at first. Never before had he felt this attuned to her every move or this anxious about sleeping next to a girl. Was she uncomfortable? Was he too close? Was he holding her too tight, too inappropriately? She had murmured a few words sleepily, but he did not hear them, merely grunting to make the impression that he was listening; he could not concentrate or focus enough for pillow talk. It was a relief when she finally fell asleep.
Releasing one arm, he flopped over onto his back, though his other arm was trapped, acting as a pillow for Rogue. He stared up at the ceiling, and consequently the mirror that he had erected up there. He was surprised that Rogue had missed it; she would have had a pretty comment about it, no doubt. Heaving a tortured sigh, he looked at himself lift his hand to clutch at his unruly hair, watched the satin rustle underneath his body, stared at the contrast of dark ruby sheets tangled with the soft pale cream flesh that was the girl lying next to him. Turning his head, he gazed at her peaceful face and felt her soft breath blowing evenly against his skin. Her shirt had ridden up slightly, and before he thought about it, he found himself tugging it down.
What was happening? What did she do to him? Closing his eyes, he flopped onto his back once more, swallowing. This had to stop. Forget the game, forget everything. There was no new goal of going further with her; the 'relationship' was ending now.
*****
Rogue woke up cold, and alone, on Remy's bed. Oh look, a mirror on the ceiling. She giggled almost childishly to herself before curiously peering over to the other side of the bed, distinctively cajun-less. Scrubbing her eyes groggily, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, untangling her legs from the sheets. Where did he go? She had figured him to be the kind of guy that liked to stay in bed in the morning, especially when he had a female companion. But maybe she figured wrong. Creeping up to the door that led to the rest of the apartment, she found him sitting in the kitchen, staring at his uneaten bowl of cereal that was getting real soggy by the looks of it. "Remy?" His head jerked up at her voice, and she could see dark circles under his eyes. "Remy, ya look lahke ya didn' sleep a wink las' night."
He smirked bitterly, getting up to toss his still full bowl into the sink. "Dat's prob'ly 'cause I didn'."
"Why not? What's wrong, Remy?"
"Rogue... I.." He squeezed his eyes shut. This shouldn't even be this hard. "It has t' end," he whispered.
"What? What has ta end?" She approached him, paling. "What are ya talkin' 'bout, Remy?"
He turned away, making a few agitated movements like a cornered animal. "Dis relationship." He swallowed, pushing past her to the living room. "It's over, chere."
A chill ran through Rogue's frame and she visibly trembled. "What, why?"
"I'm jus' not..." He clenched his fist, willing himself to repeat the words he had been working out just a few moments ago. "I'm not int'rested in y' no more. Y' were.." He choked slightly on the words. "Y' were only a challenge, but now dat y' can touch, y' ain' much o' a challenge now, are y'?"
She stared at his back for a moment before she muttered, "Ah don' believe ya." She ran up to him, tugging at his shirt. "Ah don' believe ya! Yah're doin' this, Ah know, 'cause ya think yah're doin' meh a favor, ya think that things'd be better fo' meh without ya, but-"
"Mais, t'ings would be better!" He whirled to face her, his eyes blazing with pain. "Y' don' understand. I'm de bad guy, chere. I'm no good f' y'."
Rogue laughed bitterly. "Remy, yah're th' _only_ thing good fo' meh."
"Non, petite. Y' are wrong." He grabbed her suitcase and shoved it into her arms. "Go on. It's over."
Rogue looked down at her suitcase, large tears pooling in her eyes. "Why are ya doin' this, Remy..?" Suddenly, she dropped her bag and flung herself at him, the momentum driving Remy back onto the couch. She beat at his chest wildly, flinging hot tears from her eyes, and punctuating each beat of her fist with a loud "why?" For a moment, he let her beat him, but then he caught her arms and held them still. They remained frozen in place for awhile as tears dripped down from Rogue's cheeks onto Remy's face, until Remy broke the silence.
"Go, chere," he whispered, though from the look in her eyes, he could tell that she was not going to listen. Yet he had to make her go. He had to, somehow. His eyes flickered over to the chain that hung from her neck as she pulled herself away, and he flexed his dexterous fingers slightly.
"No, Remy. Ya love meh, an' Ah love ya. An' 'cause o' that, we can make it work."
"But Remy don' really love y', petite."
Rogue took in a sharp breath. "... Yes, ya do," whimpered Rogue pleadingly. "Ya told meh so.."
"Remy lied."
"...What..?"
"I don' love y', petite." He forced his lips into an infuriating smirk. "It was all a game t' see if I could get what others couldn'." He saw her clench and unclench her fists, tremors running through her body. "An' as always, Remy won. De game is over, an' he done wit' y'. It was jus' a game, so jus' give it up, chere. At least it was fun, oui?"
"Stop it, Remy, Ah don' believe ya!" She swung her hand to slap him hard. "It isn' tru-" Her words halted as she felt a familiar pull once her bare hand came in contact with his face. The cajun's memories flowed into her mind and a sharp burning feeling rushed to her hands, causing her to cry out in shock and pain. Her powers were back, the necklace wasn't working! As Remy passed out, she jerked back, falling unceremoniously onto her rear and slamming into the coffeetable. Her hand fell onto a couple of magazines, instantly charging them, forcing her to fling them away. The explosions made a mess out of his living room and Rogue was forced to shield her face from the debris. She lay there, crumpled with her face buried in her arms, the silence after the explosions overpowering. But soon, her body began shaking with angry sobs. Images from Remy's memories ran through her mind, his thoughts, his amusement. His lies. It had been just a brief skin to skin encounter, but it showed her everything. Pietro was right. He was right all along. Remy did not love her; it was just a game. All just a game. From the very beginning, Gambit had played her for a fool. He had lied to her, played with her emotions, and had her wrapped around his little finger. And that was all he wanted; entertainment was his only goal. She meant nothing to him, he did not love her. It was just a lie; mere words to manipulate her the way he wanted. He did not love her. Her heart felt crushed and ripped into shreds, the pieces settling uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach. He never did love her, and he had only stayed around this long because she was a good game. She gave him a sort of satisfaction that he did not get with other girls; he had used her. She scrubbed her arm across her tear-stained cheeks, but more tears replaced the ones she dried. How could he do this to her? How could he? How COULD he?
She shoved herself up onto wobbly legs, seething with anger and disgust for the unconscious man on the couch. He began stirring slightly, and Rogue could feel the burning sensations beginning to fade. She opened her mouth to spit out spiteful words towards him, but when he started to murmur in his discomfort, clutching his head because of the headache that he undoubtedly was no suffering, she suddenly felt that she could not bear to be around him. She did not dare to listen to his voice or risk looking into the eyes that she had fallen so hard for. She dropped her eyes away from his form, beginning to move away when a silver gleam caught her glance. Her chain was lying on the floor near her feet. Instinctively, she lifted a hand to her neck as she scooped up the chain, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion; her neck was bare. It had fallen off?
"Rogue...?" His raspy voice startled her out of her thoughts and she felt the urge to flee again. He had used her. He did not love her. He never loved her. Choking on an anguished sob, she whirled around on her toes and dashed away, leaving him behind, her suitcase forgotten in her rush to get as far away from him as possible. Remy groaned as the door slammed after her, the sound crashing through his eardrums and making his headache all the more painful. When he dared to open his eyes, he shut them immediately afterwards upon seeing the damage to his living room. His tv was gone, as was his window. Instead, there was a fairly gaping hole in the wall where they used to be, decorated with scorchmarks, and the debris littered the room. She must have absorbed some of his power too. He hadn't quite considered that, just that she would get some of his memories. But it was no big deal. He could just as easily fix the damage, or just move to a different apartment. She absorbed his memories, and that was the important part. He had focused on the past few days with her, and on his amusement, his manipulation, his lies; hoping that she would catch little of his current confusion if any at all. And if her running out of the room in heart-rending sobs was any indication, he had been successful.
He opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. She was gone. Most likely never to come back, to him. She was gone, and she would never be his again. What did he care? Nothing! He did not care! She was just another girl. He would move on in a matter of days; in fact, tomorrow he expected to have another girl draped over his arm. Rogue did not matter anymore, she never did.
Suddenly, the wind from the gaping hole in the wall picked up the scarf that he had given Rogue from where it was sitting on the coffee table and cloaked it partially over Remy's face. He jerked up, startled at the sudden green tint to his vision, and lifted his hand to take the piece of cloth in his hand. Her scent wafted up from the fabric, and he felt a pang of something, regret maybe, tremble inside of him. God, he missed her already.
~~~~~~~
Long chapter, yea? I had to get her through the night somehow. And I didn't want her sleeping in a park. Not exactly romy fluff or whatever you call it, though.
I kinda don't have a rant right now.
I don't know what to say about what she absorbed. I just had to have her absorb him, and see the lies that he had told her, to cement the break up. A lot of repetition that he did not love her, mainly to emphasize that's what really tore her up. He hasn't admitted to himself that he loves her yet, so I figure the way he insists to himself that he doesn't would get transferred to her too.
Wow, talk about pressuring me to update, ladyvader. Hey, I can't churn these out any faster! It's a touchy time in the story. Can't rush through them. So, no dying. Or else you won't see the ending. ;)
Heh, I liked the 'wasn't out for blood, just sheer terror' too. Unfortunately, I'm not going to be writing about how Logan chases Scott down. Oh, and it wasn't all Scott's doing. Jean started it. Really, I don't hate Scott. Just Jean.
Yeah, I want to get to the romy-ness too. But gonna have to wait a long time for that. Not sure if I count this chapter as romy-ness at all. It will be Romy in the end!
So Rogue's in a bind now. Where's she going to go?
I'll give you one guess... :p
Rielyn
Oh, and this chapter wasn't what Romy fans were going to kill me over...