Disclaimer: Marvel's, not mine.

Thanks to my reviewers! Some of you had a lot of questions, but really they can only be answered as the story progresses. And some of them can't be answered at all. The only thing I can say is that love is a strange thing…

Note: Rogue does not have her flying and super strength abilities in this alternate universe.

Also, I've been having some issues uploading my chapters, which is why the last one took a bit longer….so if there is a delay, that's why…

………………………………………….

She decided to let the tears fall.

They were sort of stifled. She let one hand cover half her face. Nobody was watching, but she felt eyes upon her anyhow.

She had lived her best life alone. Sure, it had been lonely, but it had never hurt this intensely. Not with the same disappointment lovers, friends and family brought.

Alone, you distinguished everything.

Absentmindedly she remembered a time with Remy. A time, so romantic, so unbelievable, that she had believed it. It was a time when she thought they would be together forever.

A time of talk of soulmates, and marriage and love.

She sat at a couch in the corner of her room, where the windows couldn't see her.

Crying for a past that had broken her heart.

……………………………………..

"What d'ya think o'Italy chere?"

His arm was around her. They sat on the deck of her house.

"Italy? For what?"

She felt him shrug against her body.

"I'd like t'travel wit' you Rogue. I could see us livin' in Italy. On the beach, in the water every day."

"That sounds too romantic for me Cajun. I'm a simple girl."

He laughed casually. "You ain't simple Rogue. You're so far from it."

"Well, Italy sounds wonderful, but we can't afford it."

There was a pause. She felt she might fall asleep in his arms. Such comfort.

"I can afford it."

Rogue laughed softly.

"For both of us."

Rogue leaned her head against his shoulder.

"We'd drive each other crazy Remy."

He gave a loud sigh. "There are so many things I only want t'do with you chere. And one o'them includes travelin' to Italy."

Rogue could feel herself edging off towards sleep, so she murmured quietly in response.

She heard him mumbling about her being the only one, about her being his everything, his soulmate.

She smiled, and this was what made her feel comfortable.

Yet, it was so false.

Who could really make promises as big as that?

………………………………………..

"You probably shouldn't cry over this man."

Her mother's voice seemed sharper than usual. Rogue almost didn't recognize it.

"What? Mom," She was cut off, as her mother entered her bedroom and shut the door.

"I was hoping I could go my entire life without telling you this Rogue."

Her mother sat carefully on the edge of Rogue's bed.

"What do ya mean mom?"

Rogue moved closer to the end of the couch, wiping away the tears.

"Rogue, I'm a mutant as well." Mystique was never one to beat around the bush.

Rogue laughed, because she didn't feel like dealing with more than one case of dishonesty in one day.

"I'm serious Rogue," Mystique said through gritted teeth. And with that she slowly molded into her birth given form.

Rogue felt her heart stop for the second time in one day.

"Why would you keep this hidden mom?"

"Because Rogue, my name is Mystique, and I was part of the mutant rebellion that fought for mutant equality all those years ago."

Rogue looked perplexed.

"Well, that just makes you a hero, not something to hide from."

Mystique crossed one skin-tight navy blue panted leg over the other.

"I was also a thief and a spy."

"Uh-huh," Rogue said, nodding.

"If I lived in my true form, I would be constantly hunted." Mystique paused, face contemplating something. "By many people, come to think of it."

"So, why are you here now, like this? What does it have to do with Remy?"

She shuddered at his name, but tried to remain calm around her mother.

"Remy is a thief too Rogue. Of the highest order. He is son to Jean Luc LeBeau, head of the New Orleans Thieves Guild. One day he will be destined to take his father's place. His death was staged because he too was being hunted. And because he needed to return home."

Rogue let her head fall backwards into the plush cushions.

"I don't believe this. It's like some sorta movie."

"Well, there's more, so you better start breathing."

Rogue sat up straight, unfamiliar with this colder version of her mother.

"I didn't know who Remy really was until I found him in our house just days after his fake death. He took something with him. And he gave it to someone extremely dangerous."

"Mom, I'm just a college student. You've got a gun around your hip and you're wearing spandex. I don't even know how ta process this."

"This isn't your battle sweetie. I just need Remy." Mystique looked saddened briefly, before her yellow eyes covered it up with mystery. "And I wanted you to know the truth. About everything."

Rogue nodded, but her limbs felt numb. Everything had just stopped trying.

"What are ya gonna do with Remy?"

"You don't need to worry about that Rogue."

Mystique stood up and morphed back into the form Rogue was familiar with.

"You just pretend like he's dead. Get on with your life."

Mystique walked over and kissed Rogue on the forehead.

She left as quickly as she had come, and Rogue couldn't move at all.

………………………………………………

Rogue watched him leave and wondered why he had loved her at all.

She got up slowly, and walked to the kitchen. But nothing was the same. Not even the counters felt real.

She put one hand to her stomach, rubbing it slowly.

What a fool she had been.

…………………………………

Remy walked down the hallway, eyes stern.

He had been secretly searching for a girl like Rogue for ages. And now, after all this time together, he had to leave.

It was a mistake, sure.

But he had been born into something that he couldn't change.

He was a thief.

He pulled out a vial, and took one pill. He had traded in a normal life for this, for the control of his powers. For his soul and his decisions.

As he stepped outside into the rain, he lit a cigarette with the tip of his finger. It sizzled and the paper dampened. His hair matted against his face.

He held an orange lily in one hand. Rogue had insisted he take it with him.

Slowly he let it drop. He could not take reminders with him.

As beautiful as most of them were.

……………………………………………….

Rogue stood up suddenly. Her mother had only left seconds ago.

She pulled on her boots and ran.

She knew where Remy would go. She couldn't find her mother, but she could find him.

It always seemed to be raining here. And this time it was harder. She was sure it was trying to tell her something.

She just kept running, and wished she could fly.

Her belt slammed against one hip, and her hair kept blowing into her mouth.

Everything in this area was so close to everything else.

She stopped at one street corner, and rested one hand against a metal pole.

Looking up, rain wetting her face, she looked at the bus 84 symbol.

…………………………………………..

Rogue stood apart from the crowd and watched people throw flowers into the deep pit. Rogue had an orange lily in her hand, but was too afraid to let it go.

She wasn't crying, but the words people spoke made her want to.

She thought if she looked down at the grass she might be able to pretend she was somewhere else.

She was wearing black, and she hated black. She was black and orange with the lily, and she hated Halloween.

Her knees began to wobble and shake, and she just kept staring.

She felt someone's hand rest on her shoulder, and pat it comfortingly. She knew it was Kitty.

She just kept staring.

She did it because nobody leaves this life by choice. Not when they have someone they love.

She was beginning to think that love was a ridiculous notion they had both played.

People began to walk past her.

Once everyone was gone she walked to the gaping hole and stared down at the wooden casket.

She threw the orange lily inside, her lips tight in anger.

It was consumed by the barrage of other flowers.

But it was the only orange one.

…………………………………………………..

Rogue stepped off the bus twenty minutes later. The wind whipped her face harder as the door shut behind her.

Her first steps were tentative, but then she began to run again.

She was so close now that her heart began to beat, not from running, but from not knowing.

She hit the pavement of the small parking lot and jumped over a tiny wooden fence. There wasn't a single car at the park.

And she could see the field now.

And she could see the figure standing there.

So she slowed her pace, her entire body trembling.

It was cloudy, not a good day for stars. Not a good day for much.

His hair blew frantically, and she liked it longer.

She knew him. And she knew he knew she was there.

The cigarette flicked from his stretched out left hand, and blew westward with the wind.

He was turning now, around, in her direction.

And he wore that coat he always had worn.

The feelings that had left all those years ago suddenly came flooding back, and she ran into his arms.

His hands swept up her face and he kissed her.

This was the only kiss that deserved to be called a kiss.

One hand stayed on her cheek as he pulled back to look at her.

Beauty and silence.

And then the cocking of a gun.

The shot sailed through the wind.

A loud bang.