A/N: Just a quick little warning and a question for all y'all. This story ain't gonna be pretty. It's very dark, and there are gonna be some not so nice descriptions throughout the chapters. Just so ya know.
And now the Question: Does it hurt the story having Remy transformed back, looks-wise? Would it be better to have his appearance still that of Death? That's the one part in the story I keep goin' back and forth on, so any help y'all could offer would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!
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The light flickered a moment before staying on, but it was obvious that the bulb was on its last leg. It was dying, just like everything else he touched. Dropping the tattered and bloody coat in the centre of the bathroom floor, Remy approached the sink. Gripping either side of it with his hands, he forced himself to face his reflection. Even though his appearance was back to normal, he could still see the black skin of Death lurking beneath the surface.
He couldn't remember what happened. He remembered all the gory details of what he had done as Death, and he could remember the heart wrenching agony of realizing all those deaths had been at his hands, but he couldn't remember what had happened in between. He couldn't remember the event that had destroyed Death and allowed Remy LeBeau to return. He still wore the costume that Apocalypse had given him, but the hair, the skin, it was all back to normal. And his eyes... his eyes would never be the same. They appeared now as they always had, but they were now so haunted. No poker face in the world could hide them.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the mirror, he slowly unclasped the spiked collar from his neck and let it drop to hang buy the straps across his chest. Unfastening the buckled around his legs, he quickly grew frustrated by the binding costume. It kept him confined, restrained him, stopped him from being free. Free from Apocalypse's hold. The belt didn't seem to have an end; it was like it was moulded onto him. Wrenching desperately at it, he ignored the pain as the metal armour tore his shirt, scraping his side. Finally able to toss it too the ground, he tore at the clothing that remained until he was standing, naked and shivering, among the pile of scraps. His gloves had gotten torn and burned during the battle, allowing the blood to seep onto his hands. The blood would wash off, but the memories would remain forever.
He could remember how the new guy had pleaded with him. No, he had a name. Pulse.
No, a real name, but damn if he couldn't remember it. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd known it in the first place. He hadn't bothered to learn it. From the moment that man had been drug through the door by Mystique, Remy had hated him. He didn't know him, but he hated his purpose for being there, and hated him for going along with it.
Even so, no man deserved the torture Pulse had faced.
He had been no match for Gambit's speed and agility, even as Death, nor his fighting skills. The horseman could have taken him down quickly, but he had wanted to play with his prey first. Let him get a few hits in, let him think he had a chance. Hustle him. Then, just when he thought the win was in the bag, everything went to hell. Death had beaten him badly, and when he was too weak to fight back, he went in for the harshest blow. Pulse had tried to take his powers, not that he needed them to win, but there had to be consequences. He could still hear the sickening sounds as he drove his fingers into his victim's eye sockets; feel the texture of the eye as he tore it out with his bare hands. Pulse had screamed in horror, pain, shock... and Death laughed in his face. The other eye had soon followed, the blood spraying from the wound, staining his white hair red. Then he had allowed the wretched creature to crawl away, let him think he could still live before dashing all his hopes...
The memory continued to play out in Remy's mind, and no matter what he did he couldn't block it out. Reliving each moment now that Death no longer ruled made him ill, and he barely had time to drop to his knees in front of the toilet before it overtook him. He couldn't remember eating. He remembered all the awful things he'd done, but couldn't recall something as simple as eating. Somehow, though, his stomach found something to bring up. Something tinged with red.
Blood. More blood. It was everywhere. All he could see was red.
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A/N: Now for the review responses!
WhytMajic: Glad ya loved Mystique in this. Despite her faults and Milligan's horrible characterization, I believe she truly cares about Rogue and wanted to show that.
Rogue181: There are so many issues with the Antarctica incident that many fans feel are left unresolved. For her to leave him again would just break my heart. They've been through so much, she had to stay.
BJ2: I think this is one of the greatest compliments that you're willing to my version of a character a chance when you so despise the canon version. Thank you, and I hope I don't disappoint.
Jean1: Glad ya liked. I kept battin' around two names that I thought should be waitin' for Rogue in her room, but eventually tossed both out and realized that it had to be Mystique.
