One Wild Night
Chapter 7
Heartbreak Park
Out of the blue from the crowd came a tall and very handsome guy. He simply grabbed Rogue around the waist and hauled her up off the unknown girl and walked off with her somewhere. Like she was a piece of merchandise sitting on a shelf, waiting to be taken by a shopper. Jean stood, looking slightly confused while Scott looked down right angry.
"That's not who I think it was." Scott said, snapping Jean out of her confused state.
"No, it was." Jean sighed, putting a hand to her forehead.
She watched as Scott's jaw clenched and his hands formed fists at his sides. "The Professor gives her chance after chance after chance, and look at what she does! If it was my school she'd be out by now."
"Out on the street, with no where to live and freedom to do whatever she wants. That's exactly what a girl like her needs Scott." Jean snapped.
Scott didn't have anything to say to that, just folded his arms and did a kind of pout because he knew she was right.
An argument could have brewed out of those statements but didn't as Duncan Matthews showed up with mussed hair and a hickey on his neck so dark that it was possibly the darkest shade of purple you could get without calling it black.
"There you are Jeannie, been lookin' all over for ya!" he greeted Jean, coming up behind her and pinching her butt. "Where've ya been?"
"Mostly here all night." Jean said gesturing to the surrounding living room and not looking happy at what Duncan just did. "Let me guess, you forgot to look here."
Duncan's face snapped from a 'let-me-explain' expression to a slightly relieved smile. "Must have read my mind." He said, and then he spotted Scott. "What're you doin' hangin' out with a loser like Summers here all night?"
Jean opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Scott. "She's with me because she couldn't find you're drunk," he gestured to the mark on Duncan's neck, "cheating ass."
"Was I talkin' to you, Summers?"
"I wouldn't know, I don't speak dumbass." Scott shot back coolly, the statement punctuated with a glimmer from his red glasses.
"If you're lookin' for a fight, I'll be happy to give ya one." Duncan threatened, taking a step closer to the leader of the X-Men.
"Bring it on Matthews."
"Enough!" Jean stepped between the two teenagers. "That's enough you two. Scott, could you give me and Duncan a moment?"
Scott looked between Jean and Duncan for a few seconds before biting out a "fine."
It wasn't exactly clear who said it, but the words 'probably got that hickey from the wide receiver' were heard after Scott had turned around. Duncan, being slightly homophobic, took great offense to this and naturally assumed Scott had said it.
"I've had enough of your shit Summers!" Duncan shouted, grabbed Scott's shoulder, turned him around and socked him one in the face.
Scott didn't have time to reply, for he needed to block Duncan's next punch. He caught Duncan's fist in his hand, and punched the quarterback on the jaw. It was an all out brawl after that, Scott easily gaining the advantage due to his non-intoxicated state. Yet still, Duncan managed to break one lens on Scott's glasses and give him a black eye. The fight ended with Scott having backed Duncan into a wall, about to deliver a blow to his face that would break his nose, but was stopped by Jean.
"Scott, that's enough! Stop it!" Her hands were on Scott's arm, preventing it from going further. When Scott didn't lower his arm, she said again, "Stop it."
Scott glared stonily at Duncan before dropping his arm.
"Go somewhere Scott." Jean commanded
"But he--"
"Go away."
Scott cursed something unintelligible under his breath before stalking out of the room. Oddly enough, that party was still going strong and only a few people had noticed the fight. The rest were to busy drinking or dancing or making out.
"Kid's a god damned loose cannon." Duncan said in Scott's wake, wiping blood off of his jaw.
Jean just glared at him. "You have no room to talk." She pointed a finger at him and then relaxed her angry state. "C'mon let's get you cleaned up."
This was probably the closest Logan had ever felt to panic in his entire life. Three cop cars were out front of the store, each having two cops inside of them and all of them had their guns pointed at him. And there were sounds of more coming. This wasn't good.
"Put your hands above your head." The voice behind the bull horn commanded.
Logan didn't move. He was too busy trying to figure a way out of this mess. He didn't do it. He was just trying to help.
"This isn't what it looks like officers." He called back to them. "These two guys here," he motioned to the two dead male bodies.
"No sudden movements. Keep your hands where we can see them." The bull horn sounded.
The bright light mounted on one of the cop cars was starting to hurt his eyes. He put a hand up to block the harsh light and was able to look past it some what. What he saw did not make him feel any better. These guys looked as if they were just itching to kill a mutie like him. He still hadn't retracted his claws. As soon as he thought about them, they withdrew like lightening back into his forearm. The action only seemed the set the lines on their faces into firmer positions. They were gonna kill him, they wanted to kill him. But he didn't do it, they were making a mistake, it wasn't him. He didn't want to die just yet.
He took a step back, away from the officers and their cop cars and their lights and their guns. He didn't want to die just yet. Even if they didn't shoot him now, they would give him the chair or the chamber for killing that pretty girl. And if not for that, then for being a freak with metal knives that came out of his arm like some goddamned cat.
"Don't move." This time it was one of the other guys that said it, he wasn't behind the bullhorn. "Just move nice and slow towards us and we won't hurt ya."
Logan shook his head. No, that was a lie. They were gonna kill him and he'd be damned if he just bent over for these fuckers and gave them what they want. Nuh-uh man, if they wanted Logan, they were going to have to catch him.
He bolted out of the back of the store, bullets whizzing past him and colliding explosively with whatever they hit. Just before he got to the back door, pain blossomed in the back of his shoulder, lancing through it and coming out the other side. By the time he burst out of the back door and was running like a bat out of hell down the back alley the pain was almost all gone. He'd always been lucky like that. Maybe he was some kind of freak just like Gumbo; only he didn't blow shit up. Speaking of which, he needed to find his roommate fast. If there was anyone in this god-awful hick town who could get him out or at least some where safe, it was him.
"Get off of her!"
As soon as Kitty had heard those words shouted Lance was taken off of her. She gasped for fresh air, her system shocked at what had just happened. She wanted to scream at Lance, to kick his ass for trying that with her but found that Kurt had beaten her to it. He and Lance were wrestling around the room, hitting and pushing each other into things. Normally Kurt would have beaten Lance in a fight any given day, but Kurt was at a disadvantage. He was in his holographic form; he couldn't exactly walk on the walls or 'port around the room unless he wanted to invoke a panic. So Kurt had to make do with what he could do, which was basically the same that Lance could do: hit the other guy as much a possible and try and throw him into something. Lance hit Kurt hard, making him stumble back a few feet and fall on his rear. Before Lance could make it over there to beat the stuffing out of him, Kurt leaped up from the floor catching Lance in a flying tackle. Somehow in an incredible lucky streak for Lance or a bad moment for Kurt, Lance managed to flip Kurt off of him and make him stumble backwards to hit a wall. Kurt's wrist hit the wall particularly hard, the point of impact being Kurt's holo. The holo in turn crackled and fizzled out; normal looking Kurt replaced by his true blue fuzzy elf self.
Kurt, however, did not seem to notice. He started for Lance again, but was stopped by Kitty. "Kurt, no." she whispered.
He noticed Kitty was looking at him strangely. Almost like she had the first time she saw him but something was different. Was it laced with . . . worry?
"Was? Vhy are you looking at me like zhat?"
"Kurt," Kitty whispered again, seemingly not able to get her voice above a whisper. "You're blue."
"Of course I'm blue, zhis isn't the best time to bring zhat up." Kurt said and made to move past Kitty.
She stopped him with a hand on his wrist. "No, you're blue!" she shouted, showing him his tridactyl hand and blue fur that the entire world could see.
Lance chose that moment to start laughing. "This is great, now everyone knows what a big blue freak you are!"
Kitty crossed over to Lance and stood in front of him. "Fuck off!" she shouted before kicking him as hard as she could in the balls.
Lance coughed and went down like a sack of potatoes.
"C'mon Fuzzy, we gotta get out of here!"
The first aid kit was retrieved from underneath the kitchen sink and Jean and Duncan settled on the relatively deserted balcony. Jean looked over the edge briefly, remembering the one time she had caught Duncan after falling off at another party where him and Scott had had another face off. While she was dabbing at his split lip, Jean decided now would be the best time to at least get the ball rolling on talking to Duncan.
"Duncan, I think we need to talk."
"About what, baby?" Duncan tried to smile suavely at her, but it ended up being more of a wince.
Jean nearly choked on her own spit at the pet name. "Um. . ." she began but was cut off.
"About how pretty you are? Cause I can talk about that all night." He gently pushed her hand away from his face. "Or about you're beautiful red hair?"
It was the moments like these that made her first want to go out with Duncan. What was now fleeting moments of flattery and compliments used to be a bigger part of Duncan Matthews. But football, status and peer pressure changed him and Jean saw just how weak minded he was.
He moved closer to her, causing her to be sandwiched between Duncan and the railing. "Or we could just skip talkin' all together babe." He dipped his head down to her neck and kissed her gently there.
The kisses on her neck were enough to make her forget about wanting to tell Duncan that she might possibly be pregnant, with his baby. But it was his pet name that he had chosen to call her that night that reminded her of what was more important.
"Duncan, no--" Jean started, trying to push the taller and much stringer Duncan away.
"Aw, c'mon Jean!" Duncan whined, forgetting about what he had previously been doing. "You never want to do anything! God, you're such a prude!"
"I am not a prude." Jean replied calmly. "I just keep a level head about things." Or is it because I know that as soon as you have me, you'll dump me?
"Bullshit, you're just an Ice Queen, like that Gothy chick you hang around with."
"I am not an Ice Queen." Jean's voice was raised this time, her not being one to put up with Duncan's current attitude. "What about that time I ended up half naked in your bed while you're parents were gone? What about that time you had to give me back my panties at school? Or how about that other party where I don't even remember what happened but woke up at home with hickeys all over the place?" she shoved him in the chest, her ire growing with every passing second. "Or why don't you try this one on for size: I might be pregnant with your baby!"
Duncan paled and looked as if he was about to be physically sick. He stood there slack jawed and eyes wide for a few seconds, it was doubtful that he was even breathing. After a few moments, he seemed to come back to himself and an unhappy face lit took over his features.
"You're not pregnant." Duncan simply replied.
"I'm late and we've done some questionable things." Jean said her voice low and firm. "It's a possibility."
"You're not pregnant." He repeated.
"Duncan, would you fucking--"
He backhanded her across the face before she could even finish her sentence. Jean reeled, one hand gripping the railing to keep her standing upright somewhat and the other hand going to her shocked face.
Duncan opened his mouth to repeat his last statement again, but was overridden by another, gruffer voice.
"Hands off the lady, bub."
Duncan turned, more like staggered, around. "Who the fuck are you?"
Logan stalked forward, boots thumping heavily on the ground. He had heard the fighting from upstairs while waiting for Remy to get his act together "A guy who hates it when other guys hit pretty girls."
"Stay out of this, James-Dean-wannabe."
Jean however was too stunned to actively reprimand Duncan herself. He had hit her hard and her jaw was killing her. She wanted to just give him a good zap to his mind, leaving him a drooling, bumbling mess for a few days, or weeks. But how would she explain it? And what if he hit her again, Duncan was drunk; it was certainly a possibility. Were some of her teeth loose? Oh god, some of them were what if they had to be pulled?
Snap out of it Jean! She mentally shook herself. You are an X-Man—X-Woman—you are better than this!
Jean stood tall, a certain kind of fire burning in her eyes. But it was too late, Duncan and the stranger had already started fighting. They were full-on, bare-knuckle brawling; blood and spit and sweat flying off of them. The cracks and squelches of some of the hits were nauseating and made Jean wince in sympathy.
The stranger intrigued her oddly enough. His eyes were blue like ice and yet she could tell that behind them was a kind of gentle kindness, a softer soul beneath the rough and tough exterior. Their eyes met for a split second and Jean felt something indescribable click within her. She had no time to figure it out for it was quickly sapped up by horror. She could almost predict what was going to happen next, everything slowing down to slow motion. Someone was going to get hurt, seriously hurt. She started screaming for them to stop it. She dare not get close to them but she could yell damn it. Duncan punched the stranger hard on the jaw, sending his head snapping back. She was still yelling, attracting a crowd. The stranger pushed Duncan right up again the railing. There were people watching from the windows and some coming out onto the balcony and she was still screaming. The stranger delivered a bone rattling one-two-three series of punches that made Duncan over-balance and go over the edge of the railing.
The cry was ripped from her throat, one long, seemingly unending note.
"NO!"
Jean tried moving, she needed to see him in order to catch him again but her legs weighed tons and tons. She needed to catch him but her legs wouldn't move! Time snapped back to normal and Jean found herself leaning dangerously over the railing, screaming Duncan's name.
"Jean, no!" Scott grabbed onto her and took her away from the edge. "There's nothing you can do now."
"No, no, I can still get him!" Jean scrambled for the edge again, managing to get a glimpse of the bottom. There lie Duncan on the ground, far below, a bloody and mangled mess. He was dead.
Amazing.
Incredible.
Remy didn't know enough words to describe the experience he had just shared with Rogue. She had been . . . and he, he never tired that with a woman before (which was certainly saying something) . . . and when she . . . and then he. . . . Sapristi! He would never forget this, even if he did end up leaving town next week. He looked over at Rogue's sleeping form, a lock of snow white hair falling on her face. He was tempted to reach out and stroke it back behind her ear, but was afraid of waking her up.
Isn't she not supposed t' be able t' touch? He asked himself. He pondered it a few moments and then decided that he wasn't going to question it. It had happened and that was all he needed to know. Just as he was about to grab his pants and take a cigarette out of the pack stashed in his pocket, there was a pounding on the door. Cursing a blue streak in both Cajun and English under his breath, Remy threw on his boxers and answered the door. If who ever was at the door didn't like it, they could go fuck themselves with a spork for all he cared.
Dis goddamned house better be on fire, were his thoughts upon ripping open the door.
"Cajun, it pains me to say this, but I need your help."
Remy rubbed his eyes . . . nope, Logan was still there. "Logan, what in de hell are you doin' here?"
"I was gettin' beer and the place got robbed. I took out the two knuckleheads and the cops think I did it." Was all Logan said.
Remy put a hand in his hair and sighed. "Yo' fuckin' kiddin' me right?"
"Does this look like I'm fucking kidding?" Logan opened his jacket to reveal a bloodstained white shirt. Remy knew better than to ask whose blood it was.
"Merde." Remy cursed. "You need t' get outta here, go somewhere upstate fo' a long time."
"Tell me somethin' I don't already know." Logan groused.
Remy waved off Logan's annoyance, despite the reality of the situation. "Let me put some pants on and I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks bub."
Remy nodded and shut the door. He turned around and faced Rogue, who was surprisingly still asleep. He hated to leave her before she woke up, like she was just some cheap fuck for the night. But he had to, Logan was in trouble. He put on his pants and his shirt and with one last lingering look at the angel on the bed, left the room.
"Where de fuck did he go?" Remy said to himself once he had shut the door behind him. Logan was already gone.
Leave him alone for ten seconds. . . Remy mentally griped as he thundered down the steps. He wandered the house for a few minutes before noticing people heading for the sound of screaming. Knowing that Logan either had something to do with it or was already there watching, Remy followed the people. They lead him to a different part of the house and Remy pushed through the gathering crowd. There, he saw Logan looking stunned and a vaguely familiar red head screaming and looking as if she was in shock. He approached Logan carefully.
"Logan, what did you do?"
"He hit her . . . was only protectin' the broad." Logan swallowed and seemed to get a grip on himself. "He went over the edge, Rem. That makes three people the cops're gonna pin me for."
"And a whole bunch of witnesses t'." Remy added. "We're gettin' outta here, now."
With that the two men pushed back through the gathering crowd and tore their way through the house. They passed by Remy's motorcycle as they ran down the driveway, the sounds of sirens already getting closer, but still far enough off for them to make a good escape hopefully. Remy ran a hand along his bike's shiny body as a way of saying 'I'll be back for you later'.
He never would come back for it.
Rogue's eyes opened slowly after hearing the door close. She woke fully and noticed that Remy was gone. Had they really slept together or had she passed out again and it was all a very good dream? She pushed herself up, her head pounding momentarily. When it subsided, Rogue noticed that she was well and truly naked meaning that it wasn't a dream. She smiled slightly, having no regrets about what she did. She didn't love him and she was sure he didn't love her, as made obvious by the fact that he was already gone. But she was glad that it had happened. A scream rent the air not to far away and Rogue jumped.
That sounded like Jean. She thought, getting dressed. She left the room and went down stairs, people moving towards one place in the house. Rogue followed them and along the way ran into a very panicked looking Kitty.
"Kitty, what's goin' on?"
"Rogue, thank god!" Kitty face flooded with relief when she saw her. "We so totally have to get out of here, this party's gonna turn into a riot in about five seconds."
"Why? What happened?"
"Like, where have you been? What hasn't happened? Kurt and Lance got into a fight and Kurt's holo broke, Scott and Duncan got into a big fight and I think Duncan just fell off the balcony because he got into another fight with that's guy friend of yours friend or whatever." Kitty explained.
"Fuck." Rogue cursed.
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly. So like, help me find Scott already so we can get out of here!"
"Right." Rogue nodded, standing on tiptoes to look for the X-Leader. Hopefully no one would recognize them as being associated with Kurt. She could tell already that shit was gong to hit the fan when this got out tomorrow; already there were murmurings of 'freaks' and 'mutants' floating among the partygoers, jumping from person to person like an electric spark. A hand landed on her shoulder and Rogue fought the urge to yelp. She looked up the arm and saw Scott who was keeping one eye closed and had his other arm around a very distraught looking Jean.
"We have to leave, now." That was all Scott said and he used his grip on Rogue's shoulder to steer her out of the house.
"Kitty! Ah found him!" Rogue shouted out, knowing the valley girl was somewhere near by.
Seconds later, Kitty joined them and Rogue shoved Scott's hand off of her shoulder. "Ah can walk mahself, ya know."
"Just making sure you're actually going to leave."
"Not even Ah'm stupid enough ta stay here." Rogue mumbled under her breath, shooting a glare at Scott as they left the house and got into the car where Kurt was holed up. Sirens were getting closer and they were barely going to make it out by the skin of their teeth before the rest of the people in the house heard them and panicked.
Everyone looked as if they had aged years since they left. Scott, Kurt and Rogue were bruised and tore up from fights; though Rogue wasn't nearly as bad as Kurt and Scott who were both sporting black eyes that would blossom into real shiners in the morning. Jean was sitting very quietly in her seat, a hand over her left cheek and sniffling every one in a while. Kitty was quiet as well, sporting a dark mark on her neck and slightly puffy lips from the force of Lance's kisses. The only sound was the hum of the engine as they made their way home.
Rogue was looking out the window, watching everything go by. They were driving past the smaller of Bayville's two parks. It was really just a one block by one block square patch of green with a jungle gym and a set of swings and a slide. A few trees were there too. Rogue liked to go there in the spring and summer and sit under a tree and watch the kids play and draw and think. But now as she looked there, she saw two figures, two men running pell-mell from the far side of the park. Seconds later two cop cars swung around the corner, lights on and sirens blaring. One of them was Remy.
"Stop the car!" Rogue shouted, her voice like a gunshot going off in the car. "Stop the car!"
"Are you crazy? No!" Scott shouted back.
"Stop it now!" Rogue screamed, taking off a glove.
"Rogue don't!" Kitty shouted at her.
Scott was about to shout something back at her, but slammed on the brakes instead as a police cruiser stopped dead in their tracks. The police were barricading the park, blocking off any way of escaping, including the street that Scott was currently driving down. Rogue clamored her way out of the car, not caring if she dug her elbow into Kurt's knee, accidentally pulled Jean's hair and stuck her foot in Kitty's face. Once she was free from the confines of the car, she saw that Remy and Logan were in the middle of the park now and some of the police cruisers had driven up on the grass and were boxing them in. As soon as the last car pulled into place, Logan and Remy looked around wildly like mice caught under a glass.
"Don't move! Put your hands over your head!" One of the officers shouted as he got out of his car and drew his gun on the two mutants. Other officers followed suit.
Rogue wanted to go over there, stop this mess from becoming worse. As soon as she took the first step of a run to get there, a hand on her upper arm stopped her.
"Nein." Kurt said with the air of a protective older brother.
"They're gonna shoot them!" Rogue pleaded, trying to wriggle her arm free from Kurt's grasp.
"More reason for you to ztay over here." Kurt said, his grip tightening on her arm and grabbing on to the other just to be safe.
Logan and Remy were cornered. They stood side by side in defensive positions, tense and ready to go at a second's opportunity to get away. Remy eyed each and every one of them, picking out who was the weakest, who would crack first if his made the cruiser next to them blow up. A card slipped out of his sleeve and danced between his fingers glowing a more intense pink by the second. Logan, however, decided that he had had enough of this and unleashed his claws with a loud and feral growl and stepped towards the assembled officers.
Rogue's eyes widened as she saw what was happening. As she took the breath that would fill her lungs with air to release a scream, gunshots rang out. Remy managed to fling one card away before he went down, a hand to his chest. Logan slashed one cop and was on top of his second when the officer below him put the gun to his head and fired. It was a lucky shot, the bullet drilled through his skull and tore apart the synapses that would have fired to kick start his healing factor. Disconnected from everything, they couldn't work and Logan was dead before he hit the ground.
Rogue managed to wrangle free of Kurt's grasp and ran over to where Remy lay on the ground. A cop tried to stop her but she just laid a hand on his neck and literally drained the fight out of him. The usual flood happened, overwhelmed with memories and feelings that weren't hers. But she worked through it, faster than usual because she had to get to Remy; she had to be near him. The fog cleared and she was on the ground next to him. His shirt was stained a darker crimson from the blood that rapidly spilled from two bullet holes in his chest.
"Oh Remy. . ." she whispered, tears spilling from her eyes and dropping down to mix with Remy's blood.
"Don't worry 'bout me none chere" Remy ground out. He coughed and breathed labouredly for a few seconds and then calmed down. "I'll be . . . fine . . ."
Dimly, another part of Rogue's brain registered that the cops were telling her to move away from Remy. How could she? He was dying right here on the ground in front of her, didn't they have any compassion, and didn't they know that he was more than just some criminal? That he had a soul and a personality? That he loved Taranteno movies and Led Zeppelin? That when ever he was nervous or agitated he put his hands through his hair because it reminded him of his foster father soothingly stroking his hair when he was little after having a bad nightmare? Did they know that?
He wasn't moving anymore. "Remy?" Rogue said, putting her hands on either side of his face. "Remy, tell me your still in there!"
No response.
Things were getting darker for Remy. He couldn't feel anything any more, he didn't even know if he was still breathing. But his eyes were still working because he could still see Rogue over him, crying her eyes out for him. Why? Why was she crying her eyes out over him, he wasn't anything special. At least not anything special enough for anybody to cry over. Her eyes were so pretty, so green. So so so pretty, why did she hide them with all that makeup? Unbelievably green eyes. It was getting colder and darker by the second. He wanted to hang on, just for Rogue, just so she would stop crying. He couldn't fight it though, it was much stronger than he was, like a crushing weight the darkness closed over him and things went dark.
"No" Rogue sobbed, the sound coming out weakly from her mouth. "No" she murmured again, putting her forehead to his. There suddenly were flashing lights everywhere and Rogue was shoved away form Remy, paramedics swooping down on him like vultures. Rogue just sat and watched as tears rolled down her cheeks. She watched as they ripped open his shirt, put pressure on his wounds, put an oxygen mask on him. She watched as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance and drove away. And she continued to stare at the spot for what seemed like a very long while.
"Come, Rogue, time to go."
Rogue looked up, her eyes filled with the expression of a lost child. Ororo was standing over her, a hand extended to help her up. She had been staring for a long time, long enough for the Professor to come and straighten things out with the police to let them go home for the night. Rogue took Ororo's hand, making sure to use her gloved hand. When she stood, Ororo carefully put a comforting arm around her and walked her to the car. Again, not one word was uttered on the ride home, which seemed so much longer than usual.
A/N: Yay, I got it out. Phew, that was a long one. Three deaths in one chapter, that's gotta be a record, and I'm probably gong to get a record number of flames for killing off Remy and Logan (I doubt any one will care about Duncan). But somebody might not really be dead, so keep your eyes peeled for either the sequel or the epilogue-y type chapter that will definitely be way shorter than this one. So make sure you put me on your Author Alert thingy incase I decide to jump right to the sequel!
SG