Work of Art
Chapter Nineteen: Wrong
Place Wrong Time
By DamageCtrl
All Standard Disclaimers Apply: I do not own the X-Men or anything associated with it.
Rogue gave a curt nod of her head to acknowledge him as he stepped aside and allowed her entrance to the studio. Inside, she saw a small waiting area with a worn couch, an old wooden coffee table, and art books. On the wall behind the couch was a painting of Bella Donna. She stopped in the waiting area to study the painting further.
"That's when she was eighteen," Julien said behind her. He stood next to Rogue and also looked up at the old painting. "Beautiful, non?"
Rogue nodded and squinted her eyes. "Why does she look so sad?"
"She was always sad in those days," Julien replied with a frown. "That's when LeBeau left." He added in a low, obviously spiteful voice.
The woman's eyes widened and then softened. Ah'd be sad if Remy left, too... The sudden thought of the red eyed devil sent guilt gnawing at the pit of her stomach and she unconsciously raised her hand over it to try and quell the feeling.
"Well, shall we get started? I wanted t' do some preliminary sketches, show you some angles and such and then you can decide which one y'r maman would like best." Julien told her casually as he waved for her to follow him further into the studio. Rogue nodded and followed after him.
Just past the waiting room was a large open area. All along the walls were large sheets of canvas, wood, stands, buckets, random cases of paint, brushes, and other material. The ground was cement. The house's flooring had been scrapped off to the bare minimum. Stray paint streaks were all over the ground. In the center, by the open window, was a simple wooden chair.
There was another chair in front of it and a small table. An isle was set up, the canvas prepped in front of it. "Is there enough light here?" Rogue asked as she looked around. The windows were all open, however many of the first floor windows were blocked out by large canvases and half finished paintings.
"My eyes are used to the light here," Julien assured her. "Just have a seat, Miss Darkholme."
Rogue nodded and cautiously walked over to the chair. "How long do Ah have ta be here?" she asked. Her eyes were darting around the building warily.
Julien sat down on the other chair and laughed as he noticed her concern. "Nothing is going t' jump out at y' Miss Darkholme," the man laughed. He reached over to the table and picked up the sketch book and a pencil. "Y' don't need t' look so scared."
Rogue narrowed her eyes. "Ah ain't scared." she spat out sternly.
"Mais oui," Julien smiled smoothly. He looked over at her, concentrated as he began to sketch the outline of her face. Rogue sat on the chair, tense and unmoving. After ten minutes, Julien finally sighed. "Miss Darkholme, please try to relax."
"Ah am relaxed!"
"Perhaps y'd like a drink?"
Rogue snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. "No way," Rogue told him loudly. "Ah don't need a drink. Ah am relaxed enough. Now please just continue with yahr work, Mr. Boudreaux."
Julien merely raised an eyebrow and continued to sketch out Rogue's face. He had just begun sketching her from another angle, when someone's phone went off. Julien looked up from his work and frowned. "Dat's my phone, I'll be right back." He said before putting down his sketch book and heading to a small room connected to the studio.
The second he disappeared, Rogue let out a relieved sigh. Ever since she set foot in that house, she'd had a bad feeling and couldn't shake it off. Her tense shoulders lowered as one hand rose and fiddled with a gold chain around her neck. Silently, she ran her finger along the chain until she felt the ring dangling from it. She didn't want Jean or the others to know about the engagement yet, but she wanted to keep the ring on her person. So she dug out a chain and made a necklace out of it.
Her eyes went down to the glimmering diamond and suddenly, more than anything, she wished Remy was there with her. Ah should've told him... she thought to herself as her hand tightened around the engagement ring. Ah should've told him and asked if he could come with meh...now look where Ah am. Alone. With his ex-girlfriend's brother. That in itself is awkward. Not ta mention creepy.
She tried to get her mind off of her situation by looking around. But all the art supplies merely reminded her of Remy. And the thought of Remy brought up guilt. Her eyes slowly went back to the office. She could see Julien pacing inside the room, talking to someone on the phone in Cajun French.
Rogue looked down at her bag, which she had put beside her and slipped her hand in. She felt around for her phone and upon feeling the little communication device, she grabbed it and pulled it out. Quietly, she looked over at the room once more. Julien was still talking.
Rogue took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. If she called Remy and told him where she was now, he'd be furious. He'd get angry and then rush over and he'd drag her back, kicking, screaming, and tied to his bike. He'd be angry at her, that was for sure. She took another deep breath. Still, Remy being angry with her, yet at her side, was better than no Remy at all.
She stood up and looked at her phone. She frowned. She had no bars for her reception. Grumbling, she checked to make sure that Julien was still occupied. Then she began to walk around the edges of the studio, her eyes on her phone as she tried to find a signal. When one bar appeared, she stopped in her tracks and flipped the phone open.
Remy was on speed dial and in a push of a button, she heard his phone ringing. C'mon, sugah...answer the phone...
His hands gripped the handles of his bike tightly as his eyes nearly glowed with fury. His jaw was clenched so tightly, he felt that his teeth would shatter at the pressure.
How could she? How could she go and NOT tell him? He never really liked Julien, but it's not like he would've forbidden Rogue to go. If he had, she'd probably scream at him and go anyway. But he would've offered to go with her. At least escort her.
It wasn't because he was afraid of her cheating on him. Remy snorted at the mere thought. And it wasn't because he wasn't on good terms with Julien. Remy sucked in his breath. It was because Julien despised him so much that Remy didn't doubt that Julien would try to hurt Rogue to get to him.
He was angry, but more than anything, Remy was terrified. A hundred scenarios were running through his mind, all with Rogue being a victim of Julien's sick vendetta against him. God, if Rogue was hurt...or worse. His heart nearly stopped. Julien wouldn't kill Rogue would he?
I wouldn't put it past him... A small voice answered in the back of his mind. Remy swore as he turned a street corner sharply, without disregard for his safety. The only person's safety that was going through his mind right now was Rogue's. Damn it, Rogue! Why didn't you tell me?
His heart twisted in his chest. He was angry because she put herself in such danger. He was angry because he didn't know. He was angry because that morning, she had given him a hint and he basically told her it was okay. He began to swear.
As he turned another corner, he saw the red light up ahead and swore once more. He'd called Jean Paul at another stop light, just a block or so away from Rogue's apartment, and demanded Julien's address. At first, the gallery owner was reluctant, but Remy threatened to never speak to him again. Jean Paul spilled the information like a toppled over glass of water.
Address embedded in his mind, Remy took off. As he wove his bike through the cars to the front of the line, he felt something vibrate in his pocket. He reached in quickly and his eyes widened. 1 missed call.
He flipped it open and he choked back the fear rising in his throat. Little black letters called to him as he pressed the call button. "Future Mrs. LeBeau" had called.
Rogue grit her teeth as the ringing echoed in her ear. It went to his voice mail. Why wasn't he answering? Then it hit her. What if he found out? What if he knew and was angry at her? Her heart was racing as her face paled at the sudden thought.
No, he wouldn't leave meh hanging like this... Rogue rationalized. Even if he was mad...he'd never...
"Miss Darkholme?" Julien's voice echoed through the studio and Rogue jumped.
The phone, which was hanging loosely in her hand flew out. Rogue tried to scramble to get it, but the little device had been throw up too high and too far for her to reach in time. It slammed into the cement floor and broke apart upon impact. "Oh mah Gawd!" Rogue shrieked. "Mah phone!"
"I'm sorry, Miss Darkholme," Julien said, surprised that he'd actually caused her that much surprise. If anything, it showed that Rogue was definitely uncomfortable being there. "Maybe we can put it back together." he suggested.
Rogue was already kneeling down by her shattered phone and slowly gathered it up. The case had been broken, a few screws were missing, the battery had slid beneath some canvas, and a few wires were hanging out. "Ugh! Just great!" Rogue growled. "Damn it!"
"Lemme help y'." Julien offered as he walked over. Rogue held her hand up and stopped him in his tracks with a vicious glare.
"No, Ah'm fine, Mr. Boudreaux. Ah can gather up the pieces mahself!" She told him proudly. Grumbling, she collected the fallen pieces and walked back to her purse, sliding the handful of electronic remnants back in. Finally, she turned to the stack of supplies where her battery had fallen into.
Swearing quietly, Rogue got on all fours and began reaching beneath the stacks.
"Miss Darkholme-"
"Ah can do this mahself!" Rogue growled, silencing the artist. She reached further beneath the stack. She felt the battery brush her finger tips. As she grabbed it, she unconsciously shot up and her head slammed against the table above her. "AH!"
She heard something on the table start to move. "Miss Darkholme! Watch out!"
Julien's warning came too late as Rogue felt something hard and metallic hit her butt and back, which were exposed from beneath the table. Something cold, thick, and obviously wet worked it's way through her clothes and between the folds to touch her skin. Still crouched from the neck up beneath the table, Rogue froze.
"No..." she said in a low voice as she realized what was now sliding down her back. She heard a rush of footsteps run over as the sound of paint buckets being kicked away reached her ears.
"Miss Darkholme! Are you all right?" Julien gasped. He pulled away some of the canvas stacks and moved larger buckets of paint. "Miss Darkholme!"
"Yah have got ta be kidding meh!" Rogue yelled. She pulled herself out from beneath the table, her eyes narrowed slits. Her hand felt something thick and wet move over her fingers as she put it down to help herself get up. Yellow and red paint had fallen from the table and spilled all over her back side and the surrounding floor.
Her hands were covered with red as the legs of her pants were now wading in yellow paint. Rogue was gritting her teeth as she stood up, a red paint covered battery in her hands. Her coat was now forever stained with red paint. Julien stood before her, apologetic.
"Are y' alright?" Julien asked. "God, what a mess..." He looked around the area and shook his head before looking back at Rogue. "Miss Darkholme, I'll get some clothes from Belle next door."
"Don't bother." Rogue hissed in a low voice, as she stood there, not wanting to move as paint seeped through the material of her clothing.
"Non, I insist," Julien said. "Give me your sweater an' jeans-"
"What?" Rogue growled.
"I'll put them into a solution to get out the paint," Julien said. He was already walking across the room towards a large roll of unused canvas. He pulled out several feet and grabbed a nearly set of scissors. He stabbed through the material and ripped out a long length of canvas. "You can use this."
"Ah am NOT wearing canvas!" Rogue snapped. "Ugh...just go get meh some o' yah sister's clothing! And nothing skanky!"
"Please, Miss Darkholme," Julien said as he held up the canvas. "I swear I won't look. But if I don't put dose clothes into de solution soon, they'll be stained fo'ever."
He made a good point, but Rogue didn't feel comfortable parading around in toga of canvas. However, she'd still have her shirt and undergarments, at least. Blushing, she stomped forward and snatched the canvas from his hands. "Ah'll be in the room!" she growled.
Julien nodded headed out to the waiting room. "Call me when de clothes are ready!" he shouted over his shoulder. He disappeared out there and Rogue closed the door. She grumbled and looked around the office. It was messy and littered with papers. There was yet another painting of Belle in the far wall and assorted pictures of the blonde woman were on the desk.
Sick obsession... Rogue thought to herself. She stood close to the door, just incase someone tried to barge in, she could push herself against it. She tugged off her jacket and looked at it sadly. She loved that jacket. Sighing, she put it down and wiggled out of her pants, which the paint had caused to stick to her like a second skin. She piled the clothes together and wrapped the canvas around herself as tightly as she could.
Gathering up her strength, she opened the door and pushed the clothes out. "The clothes are ready by the door!" she shouted. She quickly closed the door and listened closely. She heard Julien walk in and gather the clothes and then leave. Sighing heavily, she counted to a hundred before she peeked outside.
No one was there. Tugging her toga tighter around her, she tip toed out into the studio. As she headed back towards her bag, she didn't notice the powder burning by the doorway on a little ceramic plate. She didn't pay attention to the gray smoke that was coiling up from the powder and quickly filling the studio.
Rogue knelt down by her purse and frowned. What's that smell? She looked around the room warily. Was something on fire? She stood up and turned around. Her eyes widened as she stumbled back wards. "What the hell?" A strange smell flooded her senses.
The smoke was thick and spreading over the room like ink in water. Rogue lifted her hand to her throat as she breathed in the smoke and began to choke. Ah need ta get out!. Rogue's eyes were watering as the overwhelming smoke surrounded her.
Her vision was hazy and she could barely see anything. As she squinted and covered her mouth with her hand, she could make out the glowing square in the distance. It was a window. Stumbling, Rogue began to crouch as she reached out for the window. Air! Air! Her head began to grow heavy.
Through the thick smoke that burned her lungs, Rogue headed towards the window. However, because she couldn't see below her chest, she didn't see the objects in her way. In her rush, she ran stomach first into a low table. Rogue grunted as the wind was knocked out of her. A sharp pain rushed through her mind and she screamed.
She fell forward against the table and grabbed on to anything she could get her hands on in an effort to stop her fall. Instead, she grabbed some loose canvas and in a split second, she heard objects falling. She looked up as she rolled over to her side and fell off the table. A heavy bag of plaster was coming straight for her. Tears reached her eyes as her left hand rose and grabbed the ring dangling over her heart. "Remy..."
The smoking tires of the Harley screeched to a stop as Remy peeled into the street where Jean Paul had said Julien was taking residence. As soon as he read the number to the studio on the house, Remy killed the engine and flew off his bike.
He ran up the stairs and instantly began pounding on the thick doors. "Julien! Julien! Open up!" He yelled. He didn't care if anyone saw him. "I know y'r in dere! Julien!" Remy slammed his fist into the door, but nothing happened. "ROGUE!"
He rushed across the patio and tried to peer through the windows. However, all the curtains were down. Remy dashed around the house, jumping over the patio railing as he slipped into the alley way next to the house. His eyes narrowed as he saw a thin stream of gray smoke coming from one window.
A fire? Remy felt his heart stop and he raced down the alley. As he neared, he began to smell the smoke. "Non...no, it can't be!" He knew that scent. That burning scent of herbs and blood. "Rogue!"
He slammed himself against the window, his fingers quickly working to tear the window open. He grabbed the screen and tossed it over his shoulder as he pried the window open. Immediately, a thick cloud of smoke flooded out and he was sure then, more than ever, that it was voodoo.
"Rogue!" he screamed into the smoke filled room. His eyes watered as he covered his mouth with the collar of his turtle neck sweater and jumped through the window. "ROGUE!
By now, the powder that had caused the smoke had already been used up and the smoke was clearing up. Remy looked around the studio desperately while shouting her name. He fanned the area, hoping to clear out the smoke. He whirled around once more to try to find her. Through the thinning smoke, he saw a streak of white and brown hair and his eyes widened.
"Rogue!" Remy ran over. The woman was laying limply against a pile of paint cans and canvas. A bag of plaster had exploded around her, covering her in white. Immediately, he began to dig through the mess. "Rogue! Rogue! Wake up!" Remy pleaded as he tossed aside the last bucket of paint and gathered the woman in his arms. He looked down at her paint stained shirt and the powder covered toga. She didn't seem to be wearing any pants and her shoes had been discarded. Remy's heart stopped as a shaking hand reached up and pushed back some of her hair. There was a sliver of blood sliding down the side of her face. "Mon Dieu...Rogue?"
Raven Darkholme stood waiting outside the studio, purse in hand and looking around the neighborhood. She checked her watch. It was just past one thirty. She frowned. Rogue should've been there by now. She turned around and knocked on the door once more.
"Madam Darkholme, bon jour!" a self satisfied voice said behind her. Raven turned around and sent a withering frown at Julien Boudreaux.
"I have been knocking for five minutes," Raven said in a stern voice. "Is no one inside?"
"Y'r daughter is," Julien said with a smile. "Mebbe she's sleeping." He chuckled.
"And what are YOU doing out here?" Raven asked. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the man. In his hands was a short skirt and a long sleeve shirt. "And who are those for?"
"Y'r daughter spilled some paint on her clothes," Julien told her as he walked up the patio. He dug into his pocket for a key to the house. "So I said I would get her some clothes from Belle."
Raven nodded and stepped aside as Julien opened the door. As she followed behind him, her eyes narrowed. "What is that smell?"
"Don't know, madam," Julien shrugged. "Follow me...Y'r daughter is right through here."
Raven followed the unnerving man though the waiting room and into the studio. As soon as she stepped in, her eyes widened at the sight before her and her blood froze in her veins.
Remy gathered Rogue in his arms. Her body was limp, but a quick check of her pulse and her breathing showed that she was still alive, just knocked out. Gently, he laid her out on a clean area he had made with his legs and knelt down beside her.
As the smoke finally cleared out, Remy stared down at her. Rogue's hair had white powder on it, as did the majority of the left side of her body. She was going to have bruises, he realized, has he noticed the markings where the paint cans had fallen on her flawless peach flesh.
Red paint was on her back and had trailed down her arms and were caked on her hands. Before the smoke had fully cleared, he thought she was bleeding, but luckily, it was just paint. What did concern him was the wound on her head.
She must've scraped it against the crude table she had fallen beside when she fell. He had ripped off a piece of canvas and pressed it against the wound. However, he couldn't figure out why she was in a canvas toga. If she were posing like that, she wouldn't have been wearing the shirt beneath it.
He gently lifted up her arms and surveyed the damage. He shook his head, unsure what to make of it. Remy took a deep breath and looked down at her legs. The canvas reached her knees and he gently moved it aside. There were going to be bruises on her legs, too. Her hands were closed tightly and Remy lifted up her hand. He gently pried her fingers open and felt a deep stab through his heart.
Clutched so tightly in her hand that it made a small imprint in her skin was a glistening diamond ring. Not a single mark was on it, not a single speck of dust. It was attached to a broken gold chain and Remy realized she must've held it just before she fell. He closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath.
"Rogue...what happened t' y', chere?" he whispered in a low voice. He opened his eyes sadly. As he moved the canvas off of her leg to inspect a particular mark, which he deduced was from their activities the night before and not from a paint can, he realized he wasn't alone in the room.
His head shot up and his eyes widened as he saw Raven standing by the entrance to the studio, her eyes wide as her mouth dropped slightly. And there he was, kneeling beside her unconscious daughter, his hand moving up her bare leg.
Raging fury flooded Raven's eyes as they narrowed hatefully at Remy. She threw down her purse and screamed bloody murder as she ran forward. "YOU BASTARD!" Remy shot up and jumped back. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGHTER?"
Tears were in Raven's eyes as she raged at Remy while hovering over Rogue's unconscious body. Remy stood there, unsure of what to do as Raven sat there, shaking and crying Rogue's name. Then he heard Julien's all to calm voice on the phone.
"Police? I'd like to report a break in and an assault."
She'd been in the hospital for a week and she hadn't woken up yet. Remy paced the room, completely disshelved and distraught as he tried to make sense of it. Anger, frustration, fear, and worry had worn him down to the very bones as he went over the scene in his head once more.
Everything had gone by so fast. The second Raven entered the studio and saw him beside Rogue, touching her in a too-close-for comfort manner, all hell broke loose. Raven, despite her worry over Rogue, venomously threatened Remy with law suits and promised him jail time. She swore that she would get him for whatever he did to Rogue. She gathered Rogue against her, babying the twenty something year old as she cursed Remy LeBeau. Behind her, Julien had called the police and insinuated that Remy had been the cause of Rogue's condition..
Immediately, Remy's thief's instinct took over and he flew out of the studio. He ran into Belle on the way out, but didn't say a word as he sprinted towards where he had parked his bike. He turned it on and drove it around the corner. He wouldn't leave the site until he saw Rogue being carried out into an ambulance.
His heart wrenched in his chest. He should've stayed. He should've stayed by her side. She needed him! Remy closed his eyes tightly as he pressed his hand against his head. If he had stayed, he would've been arrested and would be in jail. And until Rogue woke up and told everyone the truth, he would be a suspect.
His apartment had been searched by the police. Remy had returned there one night to find everything in shambles. They had done as thorough a job as they could looking for clues and him. Jean Paul had called him to tell him that the police came by the gallery and asked about any knowledge of Remy's whereabouts. Jean Paul had told him that he hadn't seen Remy for days.
Even Professor Xavier had been questioned. Ororo had called him to tell him and ask what was going on.
"Remy, calm down," Ororo said through the phone line. Remy was leaning heavily against the wall. "Where are you now?"
"At a friend's, 'Ro," Remy said in a rough voice. "I haven't heard anything from de others. Rogue's still in some sort of coma..."
"Don't do anything brash, Remy," Ororo told him. "I'll see what I can find out."
"Thanks, Stormy." Remy mumbled. She didn't chastise him for the use of the nickname.
"Take care of yourself, old friend." Ororo hung up and Remy dropped the phone to his side. Professor X hadn't said anything, only that Remy was doing work for him.
Remy took a deep breath. There was only one person who knew where he was. It wasn't Ororo, Jean Paul, Wanda, Belle, or anyone in his family. He went to the one place he figured no one would ever look for him. He had taken a big chance by coming there and asking to hide out. He was expecting them to say no, but instead, he found himself being hidden by someone who trusted him enough to allow him to stay.
Jean Grey.
He had told Jean what happened and she immediately knew what the scene made him look out to be. As soon as he finished, Kurt called from the hospital to tell her. Jean acted surprised and told Remy to stay while she went to the hospital. She would call the house phone and leave messages. He was not allowed to answer.
Every night when Jean got back, Remy asked about Rogue. And every night so far, Jean, whose tear streaked red face told him the truth, said she was still sleeping. However, she had told him the visitation times and Rogue's room number. That was enough for him to sneak in there in the early morning hours to see Rogue.
He would sit there in the dark, for as long as he could, watching the woman sleeping. She had needles in her skin and she was plugged into a machine to track her vitals. Her body was draped in a pale green hospital gown. And on her bare arms were bruises. There was a particularly large one on her head, as well. The first night Remy had snuck in, he couldn't stop the tears from falling. If it weren't for him, if she never met him, she wouldn't be there.
He had climbed up the side of the hospital and used all his skills as an art thief to sneak into Rogue's room. Luckily, Raven had seen to it that Rogue got her own private room. Not that she could enjoy it since she was unconscious. When Remy saw her, he felt as if his soul had been ripped from him. He sat down on the edge of her bed, gently stroking her white streaks out of her face as he murmured her name sweetly.
But she hadn't woken up. One long, horrible week had passed and Rogue hadn't woken up once. It was killing him.
The door was being unlocked and Remy stood up straight and darted to the front of the hall. Jean's red head emerged from the door way. She was later than usual.
"Jean? Anything?" Remy asked desperately. He was silently praying that Rogue had shown some signs. He still remembered what Jean had told him the first night.
"They're saying that...there's a chance...that she won't wake up." Jean had sobbed out.
Tonight, Jean had the same look on her face and immediately, Remy's stomach sank. She kept her head turned away from him and locked the door. "Jean?" Remy asked once more. She silently walked past him, dropping her bag on the counter. "Jean, what's going on? What's happening to Rogue?" His voice was reaching a panicked state.
Jean stood by the breakfast bar. Her pale hands clutched the side tightly as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly, she opened them and lifted her head. Remy sucked in a breath as Jean looked at him with red, puffy, cried out eyes. "Remy...Oh, God..." Jean closed her eyes again and covered her mouth.
"What? What's going on?" Remy demanded. He walked swiftly across the room and grabbed Jean by the shoulders, trying not to be too rough. "Jean? What happened to ROGUE?"
"She woke up!" Jean said loudly. Remy's eyes widened. Jean shrugged his hands off and took a step back. The man stumbled back and let out a breath. His hand rose to his chest as a small smile graced his face. She was awake. She was alive and a wake. His smile got larger and he looked up at Jean. Remy just stared at her. She didn't look happy.
His eyes narrowed as the feeling of dread rose. "And what else?" he asked in a deep voice as he tried to contain his fear. His hand wrapped around a small object dangling from his neck.
Jean narrowed her eyes and took a step forward. She sniffled as she wiped her eye and blinked. "What is that...?" she asked quietly.
Remy realized he was playing with Rogue's ring in his hand and stiffened. Jean wasn't supposed to find out until Rogue wanted her to. Y' have mo' important things t' think 'bout now! his mind reminded him. Remy lifted up his chin. "Rogue's ring."
"It looks like an engagement ring..." Jean murmured. She looked up at Remy, unsurely.
He met her gaze. "It is."
Jean's face paled and she closed her eyes again. "Oh my God..." she whispered. She sat down on the nearest stool and ran her hand down her face. "Since...?"
"New Years."
"You did propose..." she trailed off.
The woman covered her face with her hands and Remy groaned. He needed to find out about Rogue. "Jean!" Remy said loudly, trying to get information out of her. "Tell me what's wrong? Rogue's awake! That's great, non?" He bent down beside her and tried to get her to look at him.
Jean refused. Instead, she stared at her folded hands on the counter. "Remy...I'm so sorry..." Jean whispered. Fresh tears were in her eyes. "Rogue IS awake."
"But?" Remy asked, his voice wavering.
Jean took a deep breath and turned to look at him. "But she doesn't remember you."
A.N. - Thank you for reading! And being very patient with me. That's also very much appreciated. :)