Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men Evolution.
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Rogue awoke that morning nested comfortably within Pietro's arms, physically warm yet at the same time feeling terribly cold, the night before coming back to her in a rush of vivid images. She could feel his arm draped over her body, his skin brushing her naked torso lightly, and she felt so dirty, almost violated though it had been her doing. She looked up at Pietro's sleeping face, tears spilling out over her cheeks. It was not that she did not care for him. She did love him. But... just _but_. She was so confused; but the one thing she knew was that it was wrong, things were all wrong. It was a mistake. She closed her eyes again, trying to restrain her body from trembling and waking her companion in bed. She was in love with Remy, and she had gone and given herself to Pietro. She choked on a hushed sob. If things could have ever been fixed between her and the demon-eyed cajun, it was too late now.
Pietro stirred slightly in his sleep, tightening his arms around her body and she let a wretched sigh escape her lips. What was she going to do now? If she thought things were bad, she just made things doubly worse. She shut her eyes tightly against the oncoming rays of the sun and bit her lip, almost drawing blood. What was she going to do? God, she wanted to crawl under a rock and die. No, really. She deserved to hurt, to suffer. She would rip off the necklace, the thing she considered her salvation, and throw it away to punish herself if it weren't for the safety of the boy sleeping beside her. Pietro. God, he did not deserve this. How could she hurt him like this?
Her eyes flashed open. He would not have to know. She could do it. She could be fine. She loved Pietro, after all. Forget Remy.
*****
Gambit lay sprawled on top of his bed, staring at the mirror that was hooked on the ceiling. He felt like he was going crazy. He tried to pretend that everything was alright, that things were just how he wanted them to be. That Rogue meant nothing to him, and never did. And that it did not hurt that she avoided him, and vice versa. He wanted nothing more than to be around her, near her, with her. He could not understand it; why couldn't he let her go? He wanted her, and only her. Nobody else could replace her, nobody else was good enough.
Damnit. She was just another fucking girl! Just another girl! A fucking toy! He did not love her. He never did. Damnit, he didn't! He couldn't! He through his arms over his face, screaming out his frustration. He wanted her back. He missed her so badly. He wanted to see her smile just for him, wanted to be the cause for that smile, and every smile, every laugh. He..
He loved her. "Mon Dieu..."
*****
Rogue panted heavily, her body unbelievably sore, but she just pushed herself harder, running faster, her feet pounding against the pavement. She wanted to hurt physically. She wanted to beat herself up; make her body hurt more than her heart was. It was her self-inflicted punishment; something she had taken up since that fateful night, and she had faithfully made her scheduled run everyday while Pietro was at school. He wanted to stay with her, but she had insisted that she was fine, and that she would not have her holding him back. She, personally, had not dared go back to school for at least a week now; she would suffer for it later, but right now, she did not care. She was beginning to care less and less about things each day; each moment she forced herself numb. Every second, except when she went on these self-torturing runs. Then, she had her release. Let all of the pent-up emotions of the day bubble over the brim. She would scream, cry, strike out at inanimate objects that she passed by, all just to try to release the tension that built up inside of her. All it did was make her run faster. She headed into the woods by the brotherhood house, not even flinching when branches and twigs got in her way, scraping her arms and face painfully. But it wasn't enough. Tears stung her eyes; it wasn't enough.
She stumbled, roots and exhausted lack of coordination both contributing to her harsh fall, slamming her shoulder against a tree trunk along the way. She lay there, beginning to sob in anguish and curling up into a fetal position. She wanted to take it all back. She could remember how it felt, and she felt disgusted, with herself. She felt even worse knowing she had used Pietro. How could she? How COULD she? He never deserved that. She wailed louder into the forest, burying her face into the muddy forest floor. He never deserved any of the pain she caused him, and it killed her that she would eventually cause more, once she could not pretend anymore that things were okay. That she was not in love with Remy.
All she could think of was how she gave herself to the wrong man. How it should have been Remy holding her in his arms, loving her. She missed his voice, his scent, his crimson colored pupils that glowed from within ebony orbs. But instead of red, it was a brilliant azure that peered back at her whenever she gazed up into the eyes of her beau. A pang of guilt shot through her chest; she should not be thinking this way, wishing that Pietro was Remy. Grimacing, she shoved herself to her feet, ignoring the sharp pain that erupted from her shoulder and began running again. Think about Gambit, not Remy. He played her, toyed with her, used her. He did not love her. He never did. He did not love her. Pietro loved her, but Gambit never did. He never did.
*****
Pietro worked his jaw up and down as he sped back home from school. That Taryn sure packed a punch. Predictably, she had not taken it very well when he had stood her up, and then found out it was for 'that freaky goth mutie.' However, it was rather unexpected when she swung back and pounded him one. He reached up and held his throbbing jaw; he had expected at most a slap, not a full-out punch to the jaw. He'd be feeling that in the morning. Hell, he felt it now. "The things I do for love," he sighed, wincing with the rapidfire movement of his jaw.
Speaking of love, she was trotting up to the mansion just as he arrived. She had taken to these runs ever since that night they had come together. He had woken up the morning after to an empty bed, and he had fallen into a state of despair. She left, he had made a big mistake and lost her. How could he have been so stupid? He had taken advantage of her, and she was gone now. She left him, she left him, his panicked mind had repeated over and over. But then later, she returned from her run, looking flushed but otherwise fine. In fact, she had given him a smile and a kiss on the lips before she stepped into the shower. The rest of the day, he watched her warily, but mostly she appeared emotionally intact, perfectly fine. She even insisted that he not sleep on the couch from now on, but instead share his bed with her. And each night she held him tenderly, seemingly content with the way things were, with being with him. Maybe even happier than how he had found her.
Of course, though, he was no fool. He knew her. He could see it in her eyes. She was trying so hard to pretend, but it was just that, pretend. Maybe she did love him, maybe she didn't; he didn't know for sure. At the least, she cared. But he did know that she was not happy with how things were, with how things happened. He could see the regret in her inescapably expressive green eyes each time she smiled at him, or laughed at the antics of the other brotherhood members. She disguised it well, and to most, her eyes laughed just as much as she did. But he could see it, she was not fooling him, she could never fool him.
There was so much pain in her gaze. Pain, regret, depression. She was so full of hidden angst, but how was he to confront her about it? He wanted to talk to her, listen to her, just be there for her, but how could he when the facade was erected mostly for his benefit? She would become anguished if she knew that he could see through the mask she put up, because it was all for him. She did not want to hurt him, but it put him in such a hard position. So he just played along. For now.
He snuck up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. "You know, Roguey, you look really sexy all flushed and slick with sweat."
She flinched slightly before carefully extracting herself from within his arms, moving her shoulder gingerly; the motion did not go unnoticed by Pietro. "Ah'd watch it if Ah were ya, speedy," she quipped in return, trying to snap up her facade while her back was turned. "Ya know Ah don' wear mah necklace when Ah go fo' mah run." She turned to face him, her mask finally up. "Ya'd best be careful, lest Ah decide that Ah _want_ ta use mah powers fo' a change.
He switched gears suddenly, crossing his arms as his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "What happened? What did you do to your shoulder? How'd you hurt it?"
"Ah jus' tripped, is all." She began to hunch over, averting her eyes sullenly. She pulled away when he reached for her. "It's fine."
"Let me take a look at it. Look, even from here I can see that it's swollen." She turned away, stubbornly walking inside the house and ignoring his request. "Oh come on, Rogue!"
"Ah don' need yo' help."
"Rogue-"
"Ah've told ya time an' time befo', Ah can take care o' mahself."
"Oh, right. Like you took care of yourself around Gambit?" She froze the instant he blurted it out, and once more Pietro cursed his fucking big mouth. He could see her facade crack as her body began trembling, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.
"That was a low blow, Pietro," she muttered venomously. "A real low blow." With that she went straight upstairs to their room and shut the door with a loud slam, causing him to wince. Pursing his lips, he debated going up after her, even taking a hesitant step towards the stairs. But he could not think of what he could say to her, so he decided to let her have some time alone.
"I'm sorry," he called instead from the bottom of the stairs, his tone almost questioning as if to ask if it would make her feel better. There was no response, but he had not expected one in the first place, so he just sighed and stepped over to the living room to brood while he watched television. He was sorry, yet he wasn't. He did not mean to hurt her with the words, but in saying them, he had revealed the bitterness that still dwelled in his chest. She had chosen Gambit over him, over HIM. And even now, it was still Gambit that held her heart. It made him feel so.. so unappreciated. He really loved her, and she- She was trying, he finished for himself, cutting off the thought in his head. She was trying, for him. It was all for him.
Yet it was just a bittersweet feeling of victory over Gambit. Did she have to TRY to be in love with him? She shouldn't, and he wished that it wasn't so. It hurt. He wished that she loved him. He wished that she was his, and that she was happy that he was hers. He was always hers.
*****
Rogue never came back out of the room, not even for dinner, lamented Pietro as he came to stand outside of the door. It was late evening now, and he had stalled confronting her for as long as he could manage, but now he had to face the consequences of his earlier quip. "Roguey...?" He knocked hesitantly, trying the doorknob; it was unlocked. "Rogue, can I come in?" When there was no answer, he cautiously slipped inside, peering towards the bed. "Rogue...?"
She lay in a mess of sheets, crumpled facing away from him. "Go away," she mumbled.
"Rogue, I'm sorry..."
She pushed herself up to glare at him with tear streaked eyes. "Ya're sorry? Ya rip out mah insides an' say ya're sorry? Sorry ain' gonna cut it, Pietro." She sniffled, sinking down into the sheets once more. "It nevah will..."
He zipped to her side and reached for her. "R-"
"Don' touch meh. Ah ain' wearin' it."
"Oh..." He paused, looking at her. "Why not..?"
"Leave meh alone, don' touch meh," she repeated, a hint of warning in her tone.
"Don't treat me like this, Rogue. I don't deserve this." She hunched over slightly, visible shame tracing over her face. Pietro pinched his lips together slightly as he inched over to her, his voice softer now. "Tell me why you're not wearing your necklace?" He dreaded the answer, knowing what she would say, but still masochistically pressing her for the answer, for her to be straightforward and tell him. Tell him that she did not love him. Did not want him, or his touch.
She hesitated slightly. "When Ah do... Ah.. Ah remember... an' Ah feel.. Ah feel dirty," she finished in a barely audible whisper, though the shame was painfully obvious.
She looked up at his face and had to immediately shut her eyes against the deeply pained expression that was etched into his face. "Oh... I see..." His voice almost failed him. He made her feel dirty. Dirty. His filth rubbed permanently onto her. He ruined her. Expecting it did not make the pain hurt any less. "And here I thought I had only made love to you," he muttered to himself bitterly. "It was that bad, huh?" he joked, though he felt like killing himself. She just sat there with her eyes averted. Pietro sighed, his hands clenching into fists. "Well, I'm sorry, ok? What else do you want from me? I'm sorry! I can't give you anything else!" He turned away and stepped over to the door, pounding his fist against the wall beside it. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Rogue. I never did. I would never hurt you if I could help it." He lowered his head, still facing away from her. "But you... you're killing me, Rogue. I love y-" He choked on a sob, his eyes narrowing to fight back the tears. "I love you, but you want more than me. And it's killing me!" With that, he sped out of the room.
Seconds later, she heard the front door slam and as if on cue, she snapped out of her stunned numbness and broke into fresh sobs. "Ah'm sorry... Ah'm so sorry, Pietro..." she whimpered. "Ah'm sorry..."
~~~~~~~
And the morning after chapter is complete. I don't know when this is going to be posted because I've kinda lost my internet access for an indefinite amount of time. So I don't even know who I'm addressing here. I wish I had two chapters completed in the amount of time I didn't have online access, but alas, just one.
If you're curious, Rogue and Pietro have been together for a bit longer than a week, approximately. I condensed it all into this chapter because stuff that happens in that time is pretty consistant. And I figure I got it all summarized/paraphrased fine enough. It's an important time, but not important enough for that much detail.
Uhm, what else?
Writers' block. I have it. I'm chugging through it though, still cranked this chappie out. I don't know exactly what's next. I've got an idea. Fairly sure of the ending too. Though, I can't tell you how many chapters it is until the end. Actually, come to think of it, the ending is still up in the air. Going through scenario after scenario... it's going to require more thought.
School is done. But now, instead of that time consuming ordeal, I've got this block to contend with. So I'm not sure things are any better.
I got mixed comments on the appropriateness of my last chapter. Some... well, one said it was too far. Everybody else, I think, well, at least most people said it was fine. I think I was pushing it, but it really wasn't that graphic. There's been worse. I could've done worse.
Also, as to her going that far... it happens. Rebound does some funny crap to your rationality. Well, not so funny, but anyway. I've been through it, and that's what I'm basically going on when I decide on how she acts here. She's going to be tossing back and forth on things, real confused-like. And that's what she is, confused. That's the basis for rebound. Confusion. I mean, there's also pain, depression, anger, etc etc and all that angsty good stuff. But there's also confusion. She doesn't know what she wants, she misses Gambit, still wants Gambit, and she knows it. But at the same time, she's trying (the wrong way) to get over him, and things can get real drastic. Things can get to the point where I took things in this fic if she really convinced herself that that was what she wanted. And miss starved-for-physical-touch is just asking for the drastic end. It's hard to really explain/express in words. I can only hope you get the general idea of what I mean.
So, Gambit admits it. He loves her. What's he going to do about it? Dunno. Probably nothing. He also hasn't found out yet about what happened between her and Pietro. What's he going to do when he finds out? Dunno. That'll be an interesting chapter. Have to debate about how firm he is to sticking with the 'i am a bad bad bad bad bad bad man and should keep her away from me' mentality. But that's a ways.
Next chapter is Pietro angst most likely. At least partially. Other brotherhood members probably will make a cameo. I have to start heading towards the end, too. I need to plan out what goes on with the Pietro/Rogue/Remy relationship(s). Started off Pietro/Rogue/Remy, then it got to Rogue/Remy, and now it's Pietro/Rogue. And that was 24 chapters. Approx. Heh. According to that, it should be about 8 more chapters for me to get it back to Rogue/Remy. Just a speculation, that's most likely not what it's gonna be. Plus, I'm sleepy and prone to babble.
Like now. I'm babbling. I can barely type. I need to really think about the end. Blah.
Update: Now I'm back online, but my desire to write has been greatly diminished. I mean, you can just tell by reading this chapter... it just drags. It doesn't mean I'm quitting... It's just that I'll be updating much much much slower than I have been. I've just lost inspiration/motivation. Without that, I can't really catch the emotions that are involved too well, or do the whole describing thing without it being real blaaaah. In any case, sorry for the delay. I lost internet access for like a week and a half, and I had finished this chapter like the day I couldn't get online to post it.
Update2: Wow, a real mistake was actually caught! In my initial upload of this fic, I accidentally had Pietro ask Rogue why she wasn't wearing her 'ring.' Oops. My fault. Thanks Chrisum! :)
Thanks for your patience :)
Rielyn