The silence between them was deafening and Rogue began to grow fidgety. Just as she was beginning to doubt that Remy even understood what she had said, he slowly rose to his feet. Instinctively, she took a step back from him. She didn't know how to act around him, how to react. Letting go of the clothes as he reached out to take them, she quickly pulled her hands back, clutching them to her chest. Now, more than ever, she couldn't risk touching him. It was bad enough living with her own memories of those horrific events. If she had to relive them through his eyes, that wouldn't do either of them any good. Besides that, she was truly terrified of what she would see in his stolen memories; of what she would feel.
Watching the door close behind him, her fear quickly turned to sadness. His movements were so lifeless, almost robotic. If he shut himself down emotionally, could she ever pull him back out of his shell?
It's just tha first night. Give him some time, she told herself.
Drawing her eyes away from the door, she kicked aside some of his fallen clothing. Most of the blood had dried by the time he'd discarded it, so the floor wouldn't take long to clean up. She'd slip out early in the morning when the nearby store was just opening and pick up a few things. It wasn't like she was going to get any sleep. She knew she'd lie awake and listen to him, waiting for him to say something, to reach out to her. Even if it never happened, she would wait.
Stripping off her X-Men uniform, she looked at it for a long moment before folding it neatly. She wasn't ready to completely let go yet. After all, there was always a chance...
Stepping into the shower, she let the water wash over her as hot as she could handle. She relished in the feel of each tiny drop massaging her skin; the heavy, slick feeling of her long hair sticking to her back. This was the first time in days that she had felt normal. She let the heat soothe her tired muscles, the steam calm her restless soul. It was moments like these that made life worth living. The simple things that so many took for granted, that could offer comfort when it was most wanted. Maybe if she started by helping him regain these simple pleasures, the rest would come on its own in time.
Not until the water started to run cold did Rogue finally turn off the tap. Wrapping her long hair up in a towel, she used the other to dry herself off before securing it tightly around her body. She hadn't expected Remy to change in the other room, so she had left the clothing out there. Silently opening the bathroom door, she turned off the light before it could disturb him. Blinking, she waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark before entering further into the room. The only light in the room was that of the streetlight outside reflecting through the pale curtain over the single window. Remy lay in bed on his side facing toward the outside door, his back toward her. He had left as much of the bed as possible empty, presumably for her, and she didn't know how to feel about his. Unsure if he was asleep or awake, she silently snuck across the room where he had set the duffle bag neatly on the bureau. Searching through, she pulled various articles from the bag: underwear, plaid pajama bottoms, a long sleeve shirt; but she didn't stop there. She had to be cautious, so she added a pair of gloves and a pair of socks to the pile. She hated sleeping with socks on, but she didn't have much of a choice this time. Too much was at risk.
Walking back over to her side of the bed, she waited silently for a moment, listening to the sound of his breathing. It was fairly slow and steady, though she thought she heard it hitch a time or two. Eventually, she turned her back on him and dressed as quickly as possible. She felt nervous, and then she felt silly for feeling nervous, but things were just so strange. Towel drying her hair as well as she could, she awkwardly sat on her side of the bed. Tucking her feet under the covers, she turned to face his back, her eyes lingering on his still form for a moment. God, how she wanted to reach out and touch him, hold him, run her fingers through his still damp hair. Swallowing hard, she averted her eyes only to discover something unexpected. The framed photo she had grabbed just to spite Mystique was sitting on the nightstand, facing him. Staring at it with wide eyes, Rogue quickly turned away and absently slipped beneath the covers, her back to Remy and her position mirroring his. Try as she might, she couldn't hold back the flood of emotion that rushed over her.
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A/N: So many squealworthy reviews, so little time! ;)
Loneraven: Damn, you're fast! Part 6 wasn't posted but five minutes and I already had my first review! Awesome.
Tammy: Glad there were some bits in there that ya really liked. I always hated that "if you love something, you set it free" line; good thing ol' Rems is a fighter, eh? Thanks so much for the wonderful compliments. I so hope Rogue doesn't get dumbed down in Carey's run when it comes to showing how she deals with the situation.
Anamarie: Pleased you liked the picture bit too. It's all the little bits and pieces that keep him grounded.
Rogue14: I'm happy to say that after this part, they'll start to get a little longer. :D
Rogue181: I am the angst monger! Seriously, though, I'm so glad their emotions are coming across so strong.
BJ2: I love your analisis of the chapter, and I'm so happy you're enjoyin' the whole mess I've made of my poor Cajun. Ya really got the description spot on there.
WhytMajic: Seems the picture bit was quite popular. I can see it in my mind, how it looks, and I just wanna hug them. Or hunt down Marvel. Or both. Glad you're enjoyin'!
