Joelle said she was going to be away for a week or two. This is how it is, she's got her secrets, I've got mine and we have no intention of sharing them with each other. Her cold blue eyes gave nothing away when she said goodbye. I can't even tell if she's going to have herself a good time or is going to a funeral. I can't read her, my empathy allows me to pick up on people's feelings, but hers, I can't. It's like she's a blank page. And I quite like that, I like it that she's mysterious. Maybe I've found my match.

She says she wants me in her life, but sometimes acts like she's had enough of me. When I think I've had enough of her, she gives me a hard time and it renews my wanting for her. I always enjoyed a challenge. Wasn't it what had me so hooked on Anna? She was the ultimate challenge. The girl that can't be touched. But silly me, I fell onto a trap. With her, sooner than I expected, it was not only about the challenge anymore. I couldn't care less if I was going to touch her, or if I would die trying to. I fell in love with her. I loved her, truly loved her. Years of my life I spent pursuing that woman, until we finally had some time like any regular couple. That was the summer of my life in California, it lasted for six months. I wanted it to have lasted a lifetime. But after Summer, you know, comes fall, then winter. And when it came, it hit me real hard. She pulled the fucking rug from under my feet.

We came back to the mansion, she'd grown a bit less warm, always very apologetic because we couldn't touch anymore. That was our Fall, my fall. I didn't care, I didn't need the sex, true, it was great, oh so great, but I wanted her, the person she is, my Anna. With or without touching. With or without sex. If I could hold her close to me during my darkest moments, that was enough. What was so hard to get? Some months after we returned, she got injured in a battle, seriously injured, and then, came our winter. She shut me out like it's nobody's business. She was so distant, I tried and tried to warm her up, but to no avail. That's when we started our on and off saga. Then came spring, we had some glory sunny days together and days of gushes of wintry cold winds apart.

Summer? Well, as I said, that was THE summer of my life, but summer comes back every year, it did for me. It was not the Summer of 69 like in that Bryan Adams' song, it was just another summer. Some excitement came from flings and even from little flashbacks with Anna, nights we spent together, but this year's summer I have Joelle. It's the warmest it's been ever since The Winter. But, of course, I'll never forget that Summer of 69, so that's why I'm here like a complete idiot watching her window for hours on end, waiting on her to make a move, to go somewhere. I need to follow. I need to see what her life is really like now. Don't ask me why. I just do. Bumping into her in the middle of a mission doesn't count as seeing with her. Seeing her at a party with my new lady in tow doesn't either. What about that time she tracked me in the middle of a heist and fucking turned the security alarm on me? L'enfer! I bet she laughed at that memory for a solid week. Her room lights are off now. Here we go.

-O-

Breath in, breath out, Anna, I tell myself. It can't be that hard.

The last days passed me by in a blur. Bobby made himself more present and available than usual. Despite both our busy schedules, he made a point of calling me every day to check on me. He's so sweet! Alex and I haven't had sex lately. If I was broken seeing Remy with his girlfriend, Alex totally lost his cool because Lorna was at the party with another man. The guy was gorgeous, the two of them seemed happy and hitting it off. So sex is off the table for Alex and me. We have other stuff going on and sex won't help.

Now, today is the day and I feel miserable.

Why do I have such a gloomy day every year? It's like there's lead in my heart, no, like it's actually made of lead, so heavy it is that it brings me down, down to the ground. It gets me lying at the cold hard floor. But still, I get up, I do things I'm supposed to do all day long. But I swear to God, if Black Widow as much as speaks to me in the wrong way or Pietro gets funny, I'll punch their faces today. I'm so not in the mood for their teasing. If Rogers gets too demanding, I'll tell him to fuck off. Man, I gotta get my shit together. Breath in, breath out, Rogue. You're a fighter, aren't you? So behave like one.

Day's done and I'm in my room for hours now. I finally manage to gather the strength to move, I take a shower, and put on some warm clothes. I get my green cloak and slide the hood over my head, tucking my white strands inside. Speeding through the hall, I make my way to the door. Havok was there with the others, he watched me but didn't dare say anything as I brushed past him.

I decide I'll get there on foot. I walk and walk and walk through the November cold streets, sometimes I feel like I'm being followed, then I change my planned course, mingle with other pedestrians, and keep glancing over my shoulder until the feeling goes away.

I climb the wall and go in. Main gate is closed at this time already. I hear my own footsteps, the clack tap of my boots against the concrete driveway and there's also another sound, the thumping of my own heart. It's loud and disconcerting. I'm so nervous and I don't know why. I'm visiting my son, my little angel that lays on this cold ground. Why should I be feeling so unsettled? I've been here before, many times. Why is this year's anniversary any more difficult than all the other years?

I spot his grave, I see his name, the name I gave him when Hank helped me do the paperwork required for him to get a proper burial.

Etienne Darkholme.

My last name, as I was the one signing the papers and his middle name, I thought I owed him that, even though he didn't learn about our baby, our sweet innocent baby that I never cradled in my arms. That little one was half me, half him, Remy deserved him to have his name.

God, this still hurts so much! And that's why I don't regret hiding this from him. What good would it bring? Our baby was dead, nothing could bring him back. Why let Remy go through this pain as well? Sometimes I imagine how my life would've been if I hadn't boarded that jet and didn't join the team in that mission. If I had known I was pregnant. Would Remy welcome the news? Would we be together and more importantly, stay together? I trace my baby's name on the cold stone with my fingers and push these 'what if' thoughts away and focus on him, my angel. I put my hood down in respect for him, get the folded paper out of my jeans pocket and start reading him the poem I wrote him this year as I feel the hot tears streaming down my face.

When I finish, I hear a little sound coming from behind the trees, I look over my shoulder. Dread fills me whole. There's a human figure in the dark. Someone's been watching me and my heart seems like it's going to pump right out of my chest, my blood ran cold. Then I see the coat, that trench coat. It's him! Him of all people! I feel like I'm going to faint. This cannot be happening, it just can't.

"Chére" He says. "Why here at this time of night? I never knew you had someone important to you buried in a cemetery here in New York!" So he hasn't heard me reciting the poem, I conclude. But it doesn't take long for him to figure it all out. He scans the name on the tombstone, the dates and looks horrified as he suspects the truth.

"Anna, what's this all about?" I couldn't bring myself to speak, I had been crying before he arrived, now I was sobbing uncontrollably. "Just say it, Anna." He demanded. "Is this what I think it is?"

"What are you doing here anyway? Why were you following me?" I spat at him.

"Answer me first, Anna." He comes close and his arms envelop me, he holds me, forcing my face against his chest. "Tell me, Anna. Please, just tell me." He kisses the top of my head tenderly. I wasn't expecting that.

I tell him all that happened and how I didn't want to hurt him with the knowledge of that. Ignorance is a bliss and stuff. He lets go of me, I can see it in his eyes, the hurt, and his disappointment in me.

He walks away and sits on the grass, resting his elbows on his knees as his hands make it into his hair, balling fists. I allow him his own time, watching him with bated breath. Still standing, I step backwards, hugging myself, I feel my whole body shaking. He turns his face to me, his red eyes shining with tears.

"I can't believe you wouldn't tell me about this, about him. Why didn't you lean on me, chére? Together we stood a bigger chance of going through this, now alone, look at you, you clearly haven't handled it very well, now have you?"

He was probably right, but I wouldn't say so. He stands up only to crouch down by our son's tombstone. He says a prayer in French and then, stands up and walks away. I stay there, frozen in place.

"Let's go." He says. I still can't bring myself to move. "Anna, we can't just leave this like that. Come with me." So, I follow him. He tells me Joelle is away and we could head to his apartment, stating we can't talk about it all in some café or bar, this requires privacy.

As I enter, I can't help but notice that our photo on that frame is gone. He offers me coffee and I accept it. It felt so awkward being there, after all the cards were on the table, the truth out. He sat down at a chair across from me, he stared me in the eyes all the while and it unnerved me. Even so, I told him everything he wanted to know and God, did he want to know it all, all the details. He listened to it all in silence, calmly and at one given point, it made me mad, I had enough of his placidity.

"Remy, will you just sit there and stare at me with compassionate eyes? Won't you shout at me, call me names, break your plates on the wall?"

"No."

"Why the hell not? Don't you just hate me right now? Just say it, say you hate me. I know you do."

"I don't."

"How could you not? I'm guilty, I'm stupid, I didn't feel a thing, I was not paying any attention to the signs. I'm a selfish bitch. I should've noticed. I… I… Of course, you hate me! Unless you just don't care, you don't care about me or the life that we made and lost." That finally got a reaction from him. He stood up and held my shoulders, and frowning he looked right into my eyes, bearing a hole in my soul as he did so.

"Don't you say that! Of course I care for our baby, I'm sad, terribly sad that this happened, that we lost him. I wanted you and I wanted him. If you'd ask me if I wanted us to get pregnant, I would've said yes. Now stop saying that I hate you or that I should hate you for what happened. If you had told me, I would've understood your reasons, your reasons for shutting me out time and again, for wanting to be alone. You pushed me away, countless times, and now I know why. You were hurting, you should've told me, chére."

His words totally blew me away. I was sighing heavily, a knot strangling my throat.

"So you don't hate me?"

"No, I don't, quite the opposite in fact. I love you, Anna." He spoke tenderly.

"You don't!" I shouted back at him.

"Why is it so hard to believe? I love you, Anna. I've never stopped loving you. And you can't tell me what to feel." And with that, he leaned in a little closer, our foreheads touching and unceremoniously he kissed me and my world fell away. Our kiss was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below my ear, his thumb caressing my cheek as our breaths mingled. I ran my fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us and I could feel the beating of his heart against my chest. When ours lips part, I instinctively smile, my heart fluttering as I clasp my hands on either side of his face.

"Take off your clothes." I say, before I could stop myself. And then sits up on his knees. I look at him for a few seconds first. His well-toned muscles lay perfectly under his smooth skin and his hair is a slight mess from the work of my hands. His dark jeans hang perfectly on his hips. His jaw hangs slightly as he controls his breathing. I'm nearly amazed with how perfect I find him to be. I swallow and breathe quickly taking my clothes off and arching my back, sliding it up seductively, never taking my eyes off him. I remove my clothes completely leaving me in my black lace bra and panties. He runs his eyes up and down my body, his jaw is now clenched as if every feeling he's ever had for me explodes throughout his entire body. He lowers himself over me, quicker, and his body is moving up against mine, he's grinding himself on me between my legs and kissing my neck. I moan and run my fingers through his hair, pulling on it, releasing some tension he's building up inside of me. His hands run up my stomach, one grabs my breast and plays with it and the other snakes around my waist, pulling me up into him even more. I can feel him getting harder against my leg and I lost all train of thought. I could tell he was going crazy, so I moved my hand between us and started stroking him gently through his jeans. He wasn't expecting it and he stopped kissing me, his breath caught, and he moaned, jerking his hips against my hand.

"Do you want this, Anna?" He whispered. "We should be grieving our baby, not doing this, shouldn't we?" He suddenly looked very conflicted. "Besides, I'm in a relationship."

"I don't know, sugar. What I do know is that I don't want to stop. Do you?" He was panting, the desire flashing in his eyes. He kissed me passionately, it was answer enough.

I unbuttoned his jeans and slipped my hand down them, grabbing his length with my hand, and stroked him, up and down, up and down. His face was buried in my neck and he nipped at it as I kept going. I swirled my thumb over his tip and a moan escaped his mouth, vibrating against my neck.

"Mmmm mon Dieu, chére, that's so good." He praised me and whispered dirty things into my ear. Telling me what he was going to do to me. It was beginning to drive me insane so after a few minutes of it I stopped, pushed his pants down, and he removed them the rest of the way himself. He was now hovering above me, gloriously naked and aching for my touch.

"My turn." He said and stared into my eyes, just before he began touching me through my panties. I gasped, my mouth gaping open, caught off guard. The texture of my underwear and the pressure of his fingers felt undeniably orgasmic. After a few minutes he couldn't wait much longer. He halfway ripped off my underwear and after stroking me a few times, thrusted one, then two of his fingers into me, and it just about made me come undone.

"Oh, my god." I moaned, grinding my hips against his hands. He watched me as I squirmed and moaned underneath him, grabbing at his forearm between my legs and pushing him in deeper. He then pumped his fingers quickly, in and out. I let out a long cry, my right leg shaking from the orgasm that had finally rippled through my body. A few seconds later he removed his fingers, and lifted me up, took me in his arms to his bed. As he put me down, my head rested on one of his pillows. I wondered if it was by any chance Joelle's. He settled onto his forearms on each side of me, and sighed happily as he finally sunk himself into me slowly, greedily, and all at once. I wrapped my arm around his neck, burying my face against him and began kissing his neck, biting his ear, and teasing him. He moved in and out of me slowly, but I needed more. I grind up against him, getting him to go faster, and he did. He picked up more speed, and pushed himself up onto his hands, mine running down his chest, and around his back. He breathing was quick, and his eventual grunts and moans told me he was close. I wrapped my legs around him and he fell back down to join his lips with mine again, muffling both our moans. I arched my back and pressed my breasts against his chest and his hand ran over them again. My second orgasm came unexpectedly and my leg began shaking as I broke our kiss and cried out his name. He began moving erratically in and out of me, and wrapped one of his arms around me, squeezing me tight as he came inside me, moaning and cursing over and over. He stopped moving and lay on top of me, both of us out of breath. He rested his cheek on my shoulder and we stayed like that for I don't know how long. I ran my fingers through his hair as he lay against me, and I felt my eyelids getting heavy. The day was so intense, so hard on me, I drifted off. I woke to the sound of my communicator buzzing somewhere in his apartment: duty call. I looked over at him and his eyes were closed. Before rushing out of his apartment to meet my colleagues, I find the time to leave him a note.

"Sorry I couldn't stay to say 'Good morning.'

Please don't think that I ran away. Duty call. I'll talk to you later.

Thanks for your understanding, for your kindness, for everything."

-O-

Author's notes: Thank you guys for your recent reviews. It does make an author post faster, you see? Ok, I was itching to write this chapter. Thoughts? Criticism? This story is so controversial with the miscarriage thing that I love it that everyone has different opinions as to how they should be behaving. Would you rather that Remy went ballistic at the news or are you in peace with what I did?