Disclaimer: Marvel's, not mine.

Thanks to the reviews so far. Any questions asked will just have to be answered as the story progresses. I'm sorry if it doesn't make much sense, but I usually don't anyhow.

This chapter is really going to confuse you.

…………………………………………

"Are you still drunk?"

Betsy's ever teasing tone asked from above.

Rogue looked at her surroundings, and wiped at the sticky orange juice on her arm as she slowly stood back up.

"No, I ain't," Keep it short and simple, Rogue kept repeating in her mind.

"Rogue, look," Betsy began, looking at her long fingernails on one hand. "You are usually very good at guarding your feelings. But, you live with two telepaths. And you're starting to show."

"So?" Rogue asked, dumping the rest of her juice down the drain.

"So?" Betsy repeated. 'That concerns me. You're not usually so easy to read."

Rogue rested her wrists against the counter, eyes downcast.

"I'm just tired Betsy."

"Well, it's not schoolwork, I can tell."

Rogue gave a nervous laugh and looked in Betsy's direction.

"How's that?"

Betsy placed her hands on her hips and straightened her posture with assuredness.

"There are different levels and volumes of stress. Yours reaches a much more personal level. Is it about your powers?"

Rogue gave a rye smile and pushed away from the counter.

"Betsy, it's really not that big of o'deal."

There was a pause that hung limply in the air as the two struggled for what to say next.

"Have you heard from that guy?"

Betsy arched one eyebrow.

"No."

"Hmm." Rogue muttered, avoiding eye contact. "Well, I'm going t'go take a shower."

She knew Betsy wanted to ask more questions as she left the kitchen. She knew she shouldn't have asked about Remy. She knew that keeping all of this inside of her was going to ruin her.

She turned the hot water on in her shower. And she remembered the first time, taking a shower, without him around anymore. Without the hope of him coming back.

Even the steam brought back memories. There was nowhere else she could run.

……………………………..

Remy splattered the toothpaste on his brush as he looked nervously between the mirror, and her naked silhouette in the shower. Slowly he began to rub the bristles across his teeth. He would speak to her muffled.

"I think I might move chere."

He watched her arms pause mid-air.

"What did ya say Remy?"

"I'm thinkin' o'leaving. Moving to New York. I got a job there."

The water didn't shut off, but the curtain was pulled back, her wet hair dripping on the tile floor. But it was her eyes that always got him.

"I hope I heard that wrong swamp rat."

He tried to smile, because that usually worked. The more he fell in love with her, the easier it became for him to lie. And that scared him.

"New York ain't far Rogue."

"I, uh, I guess I thought you were still plannin' on comin' with me to graduate school next year."

Remy nodded and spit the remaining toothpaste from his mouth, rinsing his brush, avoiding her green eyes.

"I was. It's just…"

"You're restless."

Remy smiled. The truth was, everything was confusing him. It was much easier to blame everything on her.

So he leaned over and kissed her. And he smiled, because that would set her at ease. And for his own selfish reasons he stripped down and joined her in the shower.

Rogue had three more hours after their shower to feel that strange, blissful feeling love and sex can give you. But a few moments is never enough.

He would walk out that door, and say he loved her. And say good-bye as if he were coming back.

Lying was what he'd been taught. Lying was what he knew.

Rogue would cry about this. About being abandoned without notice. But when he later jumped in front of that train with no warning, she wouldn't shed a tear.

Not for a long time.

……………………………………………………………

Rogue stepped out of the shower and ran the towel through her wet hair. Wrapping it round her body, she exited the bathroom and roamed to her bedroom.

She closed the door behind her and felt an instant chill. Her eyes roamed the empty room with suspicion as she quietly thought how crazy she was becoming.

She moved to the dresser in the corner. The bottom drawer was open and she shut it with one toe.

Humming softly, she tried to will away the ghosts.

"Where'd this come from chere?"

Of course she heard his voice. Of course she did. But, she often heard it everywhere. It was never real.

"Rogue?"

She had a pair of green lace panties in one hand, a shirt in the other as she turned to face her delusion.

He looked so real sitting on the edge of her bed.

But not like he'd looked before. His hair was longer, pulled back. He looked thinner, but just as handsome. Eyes just as intense.

He held a white band with tiny black lettering round one finger.

Rogue swallowed. And then she stumbled forward. And then she felt her throat gag, her vision blur. She blinked and let her clothing drop from her hands as she collapsed on the floor.

………………………

The whisk of her eye lashes meshed against the blend of colors before her. She was waking up. Every thing felt soft around her.

"I thought dat might happen."

No. Absolutely not. It could not happen, not after all of these years.

"Please tell meh you ain't real."

The words barely escaped her throat as she turned her head sideways to see him sitting next to her.

"Rogue," He said wistfully, eyes downcast at the bracelet still in his hand.

She sat up straight, and quickly, banging the back of her head against the wall.

"No. No. Don't start like that. You're dead. It took meh years. But you're dead."

He looked up then. And he was so close. His eyes pleaded for forgiveness, but she had seen them like this many times. They only surfaced when he felt like his world was ending.

"Chere, there is a reason for everything. Always."

Rogue scoffed.

"You used to always say that. I hated that."

"I'm sorry chere."

"Stop calling me chere." Rogue pulled the covers up tight around her, and realized he'd stripped her of her towel. She was naked.

"Are ya really Remy LeBeau?"

"Oui."

"The same Remy LeBeau I buried years ago?"

"Non."

"Why am I naked?"

He smiled slightly and she realized it really was him.

"When you fainted, you lost your towel. Ain't nothin' I haven't seen before. But," And he looked up again, the old smirk on his face, the glint in his eyes. "You look even better Rogue, I must say."

She felt herself blush, and her temper rise as she kicked him off her bed with one foot.

"How'd you find meh?"

He tried to move back towards her, as if a bug drawn to the light. "Through your roommate Betsy. She's very guilable, as long as y'give her a little attention."

Rogue paused and felt her lower lip quiver. She had dreamed of a million times like this. Where he was still alive. And now she wished he'd just leave. Disappear.

"Rogue, dis bracelet," Remy began.

"No." Rogue put one hand in the air. "No. You tell me what happened first. Why are you here? How?"

"Rogue, you musta known somewhere. We were so close. You had to feel it."

"Feel what? That you were an asshole!" Rogue wrapped the sheets round her and jumped off the bed.

"Rogue, what we had-"

"What we had nothing Cajun!"

"Rogue-"

"You left meh Remy. And then you were dead. I had a million questions rolling round my head, and you were never there! Even when you were alive!"

He nodded slowly and moved towards the window.

"Dat's what everyone always said. And I shoulda listened." He spun around gracefully, face sad with the knowledge that they had let something wonderful die. "Is that why you ended up here?" He lifted the hospital bracelet in the air.

"I found out after you died that you were a thief." Rogue said, referring to his removing the bracelet from her bottom drawer.

"Oui."

"A thief and a liar."

"I'm truly sorry chere."

"It doesn't matter now Remy. You're apologies were never enough. And to meh your dead now anyhow."

He moved closer, inching around the bed. As long as he touched her, he always thought that would win her. It usually did. Her entire body shook in an effort to not feel him.

"I made a mistake all those years ago Rogue."

The cold ran through her bedroom window, and everything he said now reminded her of the past.

She wasn't sure he was really there.

……………………………………………………………….

She dug through the dirt with her bare hands. It was finally warm out.

Rogue spent most of her days wondering when she would gain the courage to truly let go.

She had decided years ago that true love wasn't ever really meant to be, not forever. It was too big a burden, one only few could handle and survive.

In the end people just like to be comfortable. They needed something that was easier.

She dug further and further into the dirt until she had made a hole big enough for the flower.

She patted the soil hard against the stem of the plant and sat back on her knees.

"There you go Ms. Rogue. That looks beautiful."

"Beauty's a funny term huh Madeline?"

Rogue stared at the flower and not up at the nurse.

"What are you thinking about now? Are those voices bothering you again?"

"No," Rogue whispered. "Not today."

Madeline murmured something else and left Rogue alone in the garden.

Rogue looked down at the plant. So small and secure.

And suddenly his hand was upon hers.

Rogue smiled and glanced into his warm eyes. He loved her so much. Confusion was the only thing that threatened them.

But just as suddenly as she smiled, she ripped her hand away from his and he disappeared.

He was dead.

She was fairly certain he had said he would always be there for her.

They woke up in the mornings, and went to bed at night.

And he always said, one hand on her naked hip, that she was his best friend.

But he was dead.

And words were only words anyway.