Red Skies
Red Skies at night, red skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Should have taken warning. It's just, people mourning, running, hiding, lost. You can't find, find a place to go, so it's Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Should have taken warning. It's just, people mourning, running, hiding, lost. ~Red Skies- Fixx
September 2004.
It's a lie; a deception.
Rogue doesn't know when she stopped believing the smiles and encouragement. Or the guarded hugs, the jokes and laughter. Perhaps it was the day they'd gone to the military base, and procedures hadn't gone as planned. The Brotherhood had been set-up, and they'd had to retreat.
Sometime during the scramble, Rogue's bare cheek brushed against her foster mother's arm, and she knew everything. Her assumptions and beliefs about the previous years were chewed up and spit out. None of it was real.
Mystique and her aunt Irene had once been lovers, long ago. For years they'd been 'partners in crime', and Irene did whatever it took to further their cause.
She'd even gone as far as lying to her niece for all those years. In a sense, most of Rogue's childhood had been planned out. They'd known her father would scare her mother away, would touch her, they'd known about the abuse, they'd known about Cody. And besides Irene asking her to make sure her skin was covered, neither one of them had ever even given her a hint.
Rogue wonders bitterly as she walks through the streets of New York if they'd known about this, too. Had they already known she'd storm from the house on this day, that she'd cut all ties with them and join their enemy?
Probably.
They didn't love her, never had. They loved the idea of what she'd become. Every mission, every bruise, they were all preparation for the future they wanted her to have. A future full of fire, and anguish, of galaxies destroyed…
She holds her head and whimpers as the visions shove themselves in her left temple. She can only cry at the visions and prophecies she'd absorbed from Mystique's mind.
She avoids a murky puddle and ignores her soaking hair. She knows the 'X-Mansion' is only a few short miles away. It's funny, the X-Geeks are the last people she thought she'd be going to for help, but they're the only ones she can think of. No matter what it takes, she'll stop Destiny's visions from coming true. She'll never let herself become that fiery, cruel she-demon. Never.
She'll do anything and everything in her power to prevent her hellish fate from coming to pass.
You can't find, find a place to go, so it's Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Someone's taking over and it looks like they're aiming right at you. Someone says, "We'll be dead by morning." Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. ~Red Skies- Fixx
She'll do anything and everything in her power to prevent her hellish fate from coming to pass.
And as the sun breaks the horizon and its warmth bathes her, she curls tighter against his body and the feeling of determination she'd experienced strengthens.
The belle couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in her old home when it came down to it the night prior, so they'd fallen asleep under the Oak tree, wrapped in a quilt she found in the garage. It hadn't been easy entering, the memories had nearly choked her. It was like stepping into the dark, musty smelling place had somehow reconnected her to childhood, and try as she might, she couldn't stop the past from forming in her mind's eye.
Soon after she shifts his breathing pattern quickens and his arm tightens around her shoulders.
"Dat was suprisin'ly comfortable." He sits up to stretch, then settles back into their cocoon.
"Mm-hmm. Ah slept like a baby." Her already smoky voice breaks even more from sleep, her wild and tangled curls excite him.
They watch the sunrise together, both wishing things could stay this way forever. In this setting, it's easy to forget the harsh, cold world around them. The chirping birds and puffy clouds allow them to pretend for a few precious moments.
The light soon becomes too intense for Remy's sensitive eyes, so he closes them. Rogue, on the other hand, watches the sky in all its vibrancy. Splashes of red and orange and even a few specks of blue and purple swirl and mix together in beautiful simplicity, and she has the sudden urge to soar the horizon, and leave him behind…
Come away with me into the stars.
"Chère?"
She suppresses a shudder and turns to him. His furrowed brow grounds her immediately. "Sorry shuga, just day dreamin'."
He doesn't believe her and they both know it, but instead of confronting her he kisses her sloppily on the lips, and hops up to relieve himself behind the bushes.
No pain, no judgment, just the breathless vacuum of light and creation and dying stars all around us.
She looks directly into the sun, but her eyes do not burn or water. She knows she can withstand the burning fires of the sun, because she's done it before. She can't remember when, or how, but she can recall flying freely through the universe in other galaxies and touching the core of the sun itself and devouring it whole-
"Don' know 'bout y'," he says as he returns, "mais I'm starved. Know a place to get some food?"
She shakes herself from her second reverie in the moments she's been awake, and nods. "If Ah remember correctly, there's a diner a couple miles down that way. We'll make it in no time by flyin'."
His eyes widen comically and he backs away. "I'll walk, t'anks."
Rogue grins, making sure he hears when she murmurs 'pussy' under her breath.
After folding the quilt and putting on their shoes, the two southerners start down the gravel road behind Rogue's old house. A few sparse trees are littered on either side, but the rest is all grass as far as he can see. Tall, swaying grass.
He can imagine Rogue as a child, running through these fields and screaming in delight if she found a frog or field mouse. Not for the first time, Remy wonders what she must have been like as a kid. Was she quiet and introverted? Or did she ignore her father's abuse and act just as sassy as she did now? He wants to ask her, but thinks better of it. After all, if she had any urge whatsoever to discuss the past further than she already has, she would've already brought it up.
"What are ya thinkin' about," she murmurs, keeping her eyes focused on the steaming, uneven ground.
He shrugs. "Everyt'ing. What lil Roguey musta been like, how much I wanna kill dat bastard, Sinister, Phoenix, my hair-"
"Or lack thereof."
"I'm bein' serious, chère."
She sighs. "Ah know ya are, Remy. But Ah'm not in the mood for bein' serious, Ah'm tired of it actually. The past is the past, and even though it can still hurt, it doesn't matter to me anymore. What matters is that yoah safe and Ah have ya back. Sinister is dead, an Phoenix-" Something wells up in her throat suddenly and she can't speak. "Was inevitable."
We were always meant to be. Every avenue of fate led to us becoming one.
"What's it like?" He ventures closer, taking her hand in his. "Havin' her inside: what's it like?" Remy fears for his love. If being merged as one is anything close to the mental attack he'd gone through, then his already-profound respect for the belle grows in leaps and bounds. How is she still sane? The psyches…the lack of physical contact, and now…
Merde. An' you've put her through so much-
If only the words existed to explain having your soul on fire.
"It's, it's like drownin'. Ah feel her presence wrap around my ankles, and then she pulls me under. Ah fight and struggle, but Ah can never stop her. Ah scream but no sound comes out, only bubbles. And then Ah see. Ah see everythin' at once, Remy, and it overwhelms me. Ah'm everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Ah'm the past, the present, and the future. Ah know all there was and everythin' there will be. Ah just am.
"She keeps pullin' me further and further down and the water gets real hot, it starts scorchin' my skin, I hear the thouhts and musings of the universe…and then Ah'm in my mindscape."
For a moment, only the sound of gravel crunching beneath their feet fills the quiet.
"Why did y' let her back?" He's in pain, she can hear it easily in his timbre.
Simpleton. I never departed. I'll never leave.
Her answer comes out decidedly, she doesn't regret her decision. All of this has already been planned out. She isn't able to wade the waters of premonition as well as some, more like a rough outline, but she knows everything that's happened is connected and leads to the ultimate goal.
"Cause Ah knew Ah'd get ya back, too."
He stops and releases her hand. She fears turning back to look at him, and so she keeps her gaze trained towards the distance.
"Stupid girl. I ain't worth y' soul, chère . No one is."
"Yoah wrong."
She knows despite his anger, he needs to hear this. He must to know she is happy with what she's done, he needs to know she doesn't resent him…for anything. Not anymore. Even after all this time, Remy can not wholly accept the thought of Rogue loving him so completely. In his self-image he's tainted and unworthy, and the distrust he'd formed long ago sometimes makes him go on guard.
He waits for the day when Rogue would leave him, and he knows if she does, he deserves it.
"You are worth it, Remy." She turns back, offering him both her hand and her smile.
He accepts both with an unsteady grin, and they continue on.
An hour later, they reach town sweaty and hot. Remy looks around, wrinkling his nose. 'Town' was a gas station, a grocery store, and a police station/hospital combination. Women stroll around in their flowery dresses and sun hats, and men holler and laugh in their overalls and hats drinking coffee next to a newspaper stand. Everyone stares, and Remy remembers how disheveled he and Rogue must look.
"Come on, the grocery store's over that way."
He follows, but drums his fingers apprehensively. "Aren't y' worried 'bout someone recognizin' y'?"
"Good 'ole Dad didn't allow me to come to town. Ah'm as much of a stranger to these people as ya."
He has a sudden, insane urge for a cigarette. "I hate small towns. Hopefully I can find some sunglasses around."
She spins around, green eyes blazing. "No ya won't, cause ya have nothin' to be ashamed of. Yoah eyes are beautiful an' if these ignorant, dirty bigots can't see that, who the fuck cares?" She grabs his hand and stomps determinately towards the grocery store. Remy can only stare in shock at the back of her head.
His shock only increases when she begins stuffing food down her shirt.
"Uh, what are y' doin'?"
"Well, Ah don't have money, an Ah'm assumin' you don't eiher—on account of me findin' you naked. Unless of course yoah hidin' some not visible to sunlight." Her pockets overflow with sweets and chips, the apples and soda cans bulge beneath her ripped shirt.
He buries his face in his hands and laughs. "Y' excellent at many t'ings, mon coeur, mais the art of thievery ain't one of 'em."
"Just shut up and get yoahself some eats."
"Y' know," he waggles his eyebrows and drags his finger up her spine, "seein' y' hide dem Skittles in y' cleavage was real hot-"
She slaps his hand away and blushes hotly. "Hurry, before they catch us and break out their rifles."
He decides to leave her alone, because judging from the darkening of her eyes, she wants him just as much as he wants her. And for now, he doesn't feel right in having her, not yet.
Their hunger hits them and they barely make it from the store before stuffing their faces.
When they walk a safe distance away, they sit on the side of the familiar gravel road and finish their meal.
…
March 2007.
She dislikes tardiness. And he's more than tardy at this point. She admits, only to herself, that their Sunday brunches have become commonplace in her world and she enjoys them thoroughly. Of course, the weather goddess will never let Remy know how much it means to her: and so she maintains the cool indifference she's displayed since they met years ago in that murky Cairo pub. She muses sometimes if he truly falls for her acts of annoyance, or if the exposed sensation his gaze causes her confirms that he really does know all; that his attention thrills her in ways she never imagined she'd experience.
Calm yourself. Do your breathing.
After another hour goes by, her mood descends further and watering her plants and tending to her shrubbery does not bring her peace. She rises from the ground, caramel-colored dress flowing around her, and brushes the scant amount of potting soil from her knees.
Ororo glides to the window. It has begun to rain. It irks her to no end that, once again, he's affecting her enough that she's letting her emotions slip from her control.
The droplets from the sky hit the roof of her greenhouse-part suite, and she turns her azure eyes up to the ceiling to revel in the grey skies. The professor had this part of the house made specifically for her: with three of the walls and ceiling being made from thick glass to give her the feeling of truly being outside in nature, but mirrored on the outside, so the more conservative of the residents wouldn't have to play witness to her tendency to conduct life in her room naked.
It's thanks to this double-sided glass that she's able to observe Remy below, without having to worry about him doing the same. Ororo isn't sure how she would know he was near, she just…does. Infallibly. Apparently she possess some innate tracing device when it comes to the Cajun.
They're standing on the roof, on the east wing. Far from her post, but not far enough to observe their actions. From what she's overheard from Jean and Katherine: it's become a meeting place for them of sorts. Their own secret place. And, it would seem as though his meetings with the other resident southerner have trumped the brunches they've been partaking in.
They're using his thick trench as a tent against the drizzle; Rogue holding up one side while Remy mans the other. They're so close. Touching shoulders, and Ororo has always been under the impression that Rogue abstains from close contact of any sort.
She watches as Remy leans over, his lips only mere breaths away from Rogue's ear. Watches as Rogue giggles and shoves him away playfully.
That's all she'll ever do. Ororo muses with, to her surprise—true bitterness, Push you away. If you were mine I'd—
"I'd what?" she asks aloud, the only audience being the various flora and fauna of her personal jungle.
What would she do? Though the affair between the two of them seems new, there's…something. Some ardent, heavy buzzing of energy between Gambit and Rogue and it's almost painful to watch.
Her skin is not afflicted the way Rogue's is—she can touch Remy, can carry his children, can live with him and interact with him and touch him without fear of physical contact. But, what Rogue lacks in epidermis capabilities: she makes up for with passion. And Ororo will never be able to accomplish that.
Rogue leans her head on his shoulder. Her wet curls have to be soaking him further—but Gambit, normally adverse to precipitation of any kind; simply watches her.
Backing away from the window, nearly stricken, Ororo discovers what Remy seemingly hasn't realized yet:
He…loves her—
Curtains are yanked shut. The light summer rain is forced out by violent lightening and black, ominous clouds.
The southerners retreat inside. Ororo weeps. And from this day on: it will be eight years until Remy gives her anything more than just a courteous once over.
Present Day.
"What now?" He brushes crumbs from his shirt and pats his full belly.
She sips from the can. "Ah'm not sure. The others are probably wonderin' where Ah am. Ah haven't checked in yet."
Remy leans back, mulling over her words. He isn't quite sure how he feels about returning to New York. On one hand, going back would be the responsible thing to do, and the resident telepaths could somehow find a way to help Rogue. On the other hand, the thought of whisking Rogue away to Cancun or France or any other place she's always wanted to travel is immensely tempting. Maybe he can help her on his own, maybe he doesn't want to share her with the X-men. Maybe he wants her to be his, and only his, forever.
"Have y' ever thought about leavin' de X-men, chère ? Maybe startin' a life of your own?"
His question sparks both delight and fear in her chest. "Course Ah have, many times. There's just always been somethin' in my way."
"What about now?" He wants her to look him in the eyes but she can't. "Is there somethin' holdin' y' back now?"
She bites her lip. "Ya know there is. How can ya even talk about that with the way things are?"
"Cause we're not gettin' any younger, Rogue, and dis could be our last chance. If we go back dere, we'll get wrapped up again and we'll never get another chance, I can feel it."
He brushes her bangs away from her eyes and kisses a tear she hadn't known she'd shed. He tilts her head back and kisses her lips, he tastes salty.
A simple meeting of lips morphs into something so much greater and soon their bodies are pressed together and her shirt is discarded. He works at her bra, knowing he's about to cross over into unknown territory and there's no turning back. He can't tell her 'no' anymore, he can't hold back-
And just like that, she turns to stone in his arms.
He opens his mouth to beg for her forgiveness, thinking he pushed her too fast, but she smirks and covers his mouth with her slender finger.
"We'll finish this later, shuga," she dusts of her shirt and pulls it back over her head. "When we're alone."
It's then he hears the roar of the Blackbird's engines.
...
"At least you don't have to worry about buying all those hair products anymore," Bobby offers.
"Buying? He probably stole all of it." But Emma can't hide the relief in her voice. She's just as ecstatic as her boyfriend to have Gambit back where he belongs.
Remy, however, cannot take comfort in Ororo's embrace, or Bobby's jokes, or even Logan's awkward handshake. For once he expected things to be normal. He and Rogue would return to their old life, like nothing had ever happened.
He was wrong. In less than eight hours, they'll be fighting for Rogue's life, and everything could change in an instant.
If the bad news affects her, Rogue does not show it. She chats and smiles with the others, and when she has a moment away from her curious teammates-apologizes to Logan for something Remy does not know about. She's calm and he's wild with the thought of losing her.
He marches to the Professor's office as soon as they land.
"Remy," he greets him warmly, "you have no idea how it warms my heart to-"
"I'm not lettin' her fight. We'll hide her away, I'll run for de rest of my life if I have to! Mais Professor we can't win, y' know we can't!"
He waits patiently until Remy's tantrum ends and he sinks into the chair before speaking.
"I wasn't presented with many options at the time, my friend. It was either immediate death, or the choice I made. I assure you that no amount of running will keep Rogue safe from Lilandra and her people, at least this way you have the rest of the X-men fighting with her."
He feels sick, he's going to vomit. "I won't let her."
"That is not your choice to make, is it Remy?"
...
None of them mention it, or even give hints, but she can still see their fear. Somehow, they know the upcoming battle will be one of the biggest in their lives, and that some of them will not be coming home. And Rogue feels awful for that. They ae risking everything for her, and she doesn't believe she deserves their dedication.
Their last night begins in the rec room. It isn't often they're all together like this.
Betsy and Warren never release each other's hand, even during a heated match of foosball with some of the younger students. Emma sits on Bobby's lap and they whisper back and forth for hours. Logan and the Professor stay in his study after a brief time in the fray, Ororo continuously wipes tears from her blue eyes-while Beast pats her back, and even Kitty and Piotr discover more than friendship in the wake of the battle.
They are saying goodbye to one another, even if they can't (or won't) see it for what it really is. There is a strong possibility they won't be able to hold or kiss or talk to their loved ones ever again, and it's all her fault.
He finds her on the roof and she's shaken from her dark thoughts. Her knees are tucked under her chin, her hair is pulled back in a simple braid. The fading light washes her in an unearthly glow, he swears he can see sparkles on her porcelain skin.
"We got to see the sunrise and sunset together," she whispers, though he's sure he did nothing to alert her of his presence. "Maybe it's a sign, that this is our last day together."
"I doubt it." He sits next to her, mimicking her position. "I see it more as foreshadowin', and we'll be spending de rest of our days together."
She can't help but smile, and shakes her head. "Ah'm sorry about burnin' all yoah stuff."
He waves her off. He's extremely uncomfortable in the designer clothes Warren let him borrow, but he'll never let her know. "I figure I deserved it. 'Sides, dis gives me another excuse to move into yo' room, non?"
She laughs outright at this, marveling at how simple it is for Remy to ease her troubles. He's so good at doing it, sometimes she wonders if his empathy gives him an unfair advantage.
"Remy?" The sun finally sets and she can see the stars. "Do ya really think everything will be okay?"
He brings her closer. For once, he knows the lies he's about to tell her will serve for a better purpose.
"I know so. De X-men are hard to kill, chère , like roaches. A few scrapes, a couple bruises, mais we'll be fine."
Before she'd inadvertently absorbed Phoenix, Rogue wouldn't have been able to pick up on the tremor in Remy's voice, or sense the air of apprehension and fear surrounding him. She's able to hear a few stray thoughts, and he's just as terrified as she is.
He can't lie to her anymore, but she can lie to him.
"If ya say so." She rests her face against his neck, feeling his steady pulse against her lips. So long as his blood proceeds pumping and his heart keeps beating, she knows she'll be able to survive. If there is one good thing about this whole situation, it's that she's no longer weak. She can protect Remy, she can swat away any danger that comes his way.
The presence inside her hates him with burning intensity, jealous of the way Rogue loves him. But it will still protect him, because Rogue wishes it. And what Rogue wished, Phoenix grants.
She kisses his jaw next, and then his lips; no sign of virginal timidity in her movements. "This could be it," she whispers against his mouth. "This could be our last chance."
The belle kisses him with near brutality, but he responds with understanding and gentleness. She feels so good, and despite his fears, this won't be the last time he holds her like this. He'll make sure of that. Even if he gets hurt, even if he loses his life, the woman he loves will wake up the next day, and the next day, and the next day.
"Rogue," he groans as she lifts the stifling shirt over his head and runs her small hands across his chest.
Her cheeks are warm and her eyes are bright. "Ah want ya to make love to me, Remy."
The grip he has on her hips tightens, and his throat suddenly goes dry. "Y' sure?" He asks, as if there's any chance of him being able to stop this now.
Her arms go around his neck. "Ah've never been more sure of anythin' in my life."
Love and heat sizzle between them. He's addicted to this woman, and it hits him harder than ever.
The desperation and need takes a backseat to passion, and Remy undresses her slowly, relishing the feel of her fingers running through his hair, her bare chest against his bare chest.
And when she finally lays naked before him, surprisingly comfortable in her state of nudity, Remy's heart palpates and it's almost too much. Never, in all his fantasies and day dreams has he imagined her to be this beautiful. She's perfect, and all her delectable flesh is finally his for the taking.
"I love y', chère ."
His statement is made in complete awe. And for the first time he realizes what it means to love before making love—to care for someone so deeply that their own life matters more than his own. The emotional is there: complete and hardy, and the sex—well, it's only the cherry on top. It's coming together for him now: the stalwart foundation of emotion and time they've built and now…finally, they can add the physical.
Simply put: he's intoxicated.
"Love ya, too."
They spend their last few hours exploring each other's bodies and how they fit, how they taste, making love and unleashing need that has been building up from the moment they met each other. Both had no idea how perfect it'd turn out to be.
...
She's dressed in full battle regalia, the dim light coming from the monitors reflects off of her metallic wardrobe and headdress. The blue cape she wears bears the golden brooch of her people, her expression is grave.
Her Imperial guard stands before the Majestrix. Each of them accepting what they must do, each of them dedicated to their Princesses' cause. They will destroy the Phoenix, and if need be, the X-men as well.
She looks to the green man at her side. "Yes, Mentor?"
"Your Majestrix, by processing the profiles and abilities of both the Imperial guard and the X-men, I have managed to pair each individual against someone with similar capabilities and skill. Though the earthlings will undoubtedly fail, I followed your wishes and made the battle as fair as possible."
"Thank you, Mentor. Your efforts are greatly appreciated."
"It is my pleasure, Majestrix." He bows respectfully before returning to the control room.
She leaves them to stand in front of the communication module. Using her telepathic abilities, she sends a wave through the vast reaches of space, and soon, the machine in front of her whirs to life.
Charles Xavier's grim face appears on the screen. "Is it that time already, Lilandra?"
"I am afraid so, my friend. My people are sending coordinates of our meeting place to your home as we speak."
"I see. I will have Hank plug them into the Blackbird."
An awkward silence fills the space between them. His eyes lock onto hers, imploring her to rethink her decision…but she can't. She knows she can't. She won't let her feelings for the older man cloud her judgment. Her life isn't the only life in jeopardy, the entirety of the universe is in the balance.
"Lilandra." Think of our connection, think of the decades we lived in the seconds our minds intertwined at our first meeting. You cannot deny that fate has brought us together for a reason: just not this reason.
"No, Charles, there is no other way. I will see you and your X-men soon." And with that, she terminates the feed.
His breath escapes from his chest and he leans back in his chair. It's obvious from the determined gleam in her eye that Lilandra has made her decision. But can he blame her? Would he not do the same thing in her position?
He scans the mansion and discovers the doctor in his usual place. Hank.
He feels the returning murmur. I'm assuming you've contacted me to ensure we've been sent the coordinates. We have, Lilandra is quite prompt.
The professor can't stop the bitter chuckle that leaves him. She is. Has the Blackbird been prepped?
Robert and Logan assisted me with the start-up. Lilandra was kind enough, well, efficient enough to provide parts acclimating the plane for space. We'll be ready for departure at any moment's notice.
Thank you, Hank. I- I don't think I've ever really expressed just how much I appreciate all you do.
There is a short pause. I'm sure you will be able to express that appreciation in many years to come, Charles.
How he hopes Hank is right. I'm sure I will, too.
Reluctantly, Xavier ends the conversation and connects with the other inhabitants of the mansion. They can hear the finality in his voice as he tells them their last hour has begun.
...
She'd sensed Lilandra's aura even before the Professor does, and she'd known the end is almost here. She also knows that something is bothering her lover.
He'd been so loving and tender at first- kissing her collarbone and breasts, whispering sweet French in her ear and smoothing away the tension in her limbs with his expert hands.
He'd thought she'd been tense because she'd been afraid, but that wasn't the case. The tightness of her muscles and the stiffening of her back was a case of the spring being coiled too tight for too long. She'd wanted him so badly for so long it was almost painful. And when she finally had him, had him inside of her and his smell filled her nostrils and his touch melted her insides, she felt something dark and unwelcome swirling around deep in the back of her mind.
She'd known it was Phoenix right away. It was terrifying, but not at all surprising. After all, Phoenix is a being that fed off of others' emotions, feelings, thoughts, and sensations. Somehow, she'd managed to push Phoenix down, unwilling to share she and Remy's first time with anyone else.
They fell off the edge together, and climbed back up together, too. Her sweaty forehead rested on his sweaty chest, and the afterglow of such ardent lovemaking wrapped them both in a quiet spell.
The professor's voice rings in their heads like an alarm clock, and their saccharine moment is shattered. They dress, and when she tries to place a kiss on his lips he suggests they hurry and get ready. This hurts her, but she understands he's probably nervous for the upcoming battle.
It's after she's showered and enters her bedroom that he finally confronts her.
"Y' not a virgin," he says simply. He has a towel wrapped around his waist, and he sits stiffly on her bed. Though his stance is distrustful and wary, there is still hope in his eyes. Hope that she'll be able to give him some sort of explanation that won't break his heart.
She can't.
"Don' misunderstand—was the best I've ever had." He runs his hand through his wet hair and releases a low whistle. "Mon dieu, chère." He fumbles for the words. "I ain't new at dis, I know de difference."
Instead of answering right away, she steps into her closet and retrieves her dark green uniform. She opens her drawer to gather underclothes and socks, and begins dressing. "So?"
His own uniform lays across a chair; untouched. "So why did y' never tell me?" It's almost a whisper, and she wants to weep. "I mean y' pretty much led me to believe dat was de case…I jus'—"
"Ya never asked." She sits in front of her vanity and combs the tangles from her wet hair almost savagely. She pretends she can't see the crimson orbs of his eyes in her peripheral vision. "Ya got some fetish in bein' a girl's first?"
She doesn't mean any of this, she doesn't want to snap like this, but defense mechanisms are hard to amend.
It's only instinct. Pure, carnal sensation.
He ignores the barb. "Who?"
It's this loaded, one-word question that causes her to pause and her façade to slip, because how does she answer that? For a flash of an instant she thinks about lying. She could cry and tell him her father was involved. He wouldn't ask any more questions, his heart wouldn't break.
How marvelously wicked of you.
But it's only an instant, she can't lie to him like that, she can't betray him.
Weak.
"Remy-"
"Rogue?" The soft knocking at the door cuts off her explanation, and she's almost relieved. "We're loading the Blackbird. Logan says you have like, five minutes to get down there."
"Okay," her voice breaks, she does not face her lover. "Ah'll be down in a sec."
She stands and heads towards the door. His hand clamps down around her wrist. "We're not done here, p'tite."
She turns to find his gaze searching and burning at the same time. She wonders what must be going through his mind. She's too scared and ashamed to search his thoughts, she doesn't feel like she deserves that right anymore.
She does not know what to say to make the situation any less tense, so she simply pries her hand away and leaves him alone to dress.
...
Despite the situation, Beast cannot hide his fascination. "How is it that we can breathe in this environment?"
They stand in the middle of the barren land, Xavier and the X-men on one side, Lilandra and the Imperial guard on the other.
"A simple molecular shield," Mentor answers. "By typing in a few equations, I can use the electrical field on our ship to manipulate the shape and wavelengths of the shield and surround the asteroid and emit oxygen, thus allowing us to breathe."
"Incredible! How did you ever accomplish such a feat?"
The green man almost looks smug. "I assure you, the Shi'ar had harnessed this technology long before your people discovered fire."
"Astonishing," the blue doctor breathes.
Lilandra clears her throat. "As I said before, you've all been paired off. The loser of each team will be transported back to my ship, and, if alive, will be given the necessary medical treatment. The winner will remain on the battlefield, and will be allowed to assist his or her teammates. The side with the most members remaining will be the victor, and must concede to the terms Charles and I have already discussed."
She nods to Mentor, and he scrambles to the middle. "Ahem. It is to be known that after the utmost diligence, her royal Excellency has ensured the fairest situation possible. Being a merciful, kind, and empathetic ruler—"
Lilandra taps her staff on the hard ground in warning.
"Er—" the small creature's confidence withers. "In short, um, the princess has matched opponents against those with similar abilities. So, without further ado I shall read the roster."
"Wolverine-"
The man in question stiffens at the mention of his name.
"Your opponent is Fang."
"Jean Grey, your opponent is Sibyl."
"Colossus, your opponent is Neutron."
"Cyclops, your opponent is Impulse."
Rogue's head spins as he continues, his voice blurs into one long drone and she begins to shiver. It's all happening so fast, too fast. This is really happening, the X-men are really going to put their lives on the line for her.
She can sense the power of their enemy easily, and it far outweighs most of the X-men. With the exception of herself, Remy, Wolverine, and Cyclops, the X-men are greatly disadvantaged. Jean and Betsy are still weakened from their comas, Kitty, being a recent graduate, does not yet have full control of her abilities. Beast, Warren and Bobby do not have the viciousness it takes to kill one's enemy. Storm no longer has the aid of weather because there isn't weather in space.
Don't forget to mention she'd rather have you dead.
And Rogue has a feeling it's going to come down to death.
"Beast, your opponent is Warstar."
"Archangel, your opponent is Nightside."
"Shadowcat, your opponent is Astra."
"Iceman, your opponent is Flashfire."
"Storm, your opponent is Hussar."
"Emma Frost, your opponent is Magique."
"Psylocke, your opponent is Manta."
"Gambit-"
The belle stiffens.
"-your opponent is Starbolt."
Rogue studies Remy's assigned opponent. Just the sight of him sends goose bumps up and down her arms. He's quite literally on fire, and red energy throbs from his hands. Remy does not look the least bit afraid, in fact, testosterone has begun its intoxication and he sends a cocky smirk in the other man's general direction. But she knows better, she knows he's not as confident as he may seem.
Or maybe she's confusing his feelings with her own.
"Phoenix-"
"Rogue."
She isn't aware of her comment until all eyes are on her. Some gazes hold fear, awe, and disgust. Some hold companionship, pride, and love.
"My name is Rogue," she finishes softly.
Mentor looks over at his superior, but she does not give him any response. "Very well then. Rogue, your opponent is Gladiator."
Remy's hand grabs her's desperately. She knows he wants to kill the regal looking man before he even has a chance to fight her.
"I will ask you one last time, Charles. Please rethink your decision and give her to us." Think about us and all we could have, her thouhts plead.
"I cannot do that, Lilandra. I wish there was some other way, but there is not. My loyalty resides with Rogue."
Her face falls, but it's a momentary weakness. "Very well then. You have ninety minutes to adjust to this terrain." She spins away to return to the ship.
Xavier must tear his gaze away from her retreating form. "I must follow her to the ship, but before I go, I must tell you all how much you mean to me."
Kitty bursts into tears right off the bat, and Piotr wraps his arm around her shaking shoulders.
"I feel like I've made a personal connection to each and every one of you, and if I could, I'd be out here fighting with you. Unfortunately, I'd be more of a liability than an asset, and I do not wish to add any more stress to your situation." He smiles then, and looks every one of his X-men in the eyes. "You have all made me so proud."
There isn't a dry eye in the house, though most of the men try to hide their tears. Rogue opens her mouth. She isn't worth this, she isn't worth all these lies!
Jean beats her to it. "We'll die, all of us. I know you sensed the power of those beings, they'll rip us apart in a matter of minutes."
"How can you say that?" Scott snaps. "We're X-men, Jean, and X-men stick together no matter what!"
"Even if it means suicide?" Betsy shakes her head, her lip trembles. "You haven't been inside her mind, you don't know what she's capable of!"
"It isn't her though, she can't help it!"
"I won't die for her, Scott. You will, but I won't."
"Listen to yourself, Jean!" Scott clutches his wife's arms. "This is- this could be our last hours together, and you're saying such horrible things-"
"I have an idea." The team, with the exception of Rogue, haven't noticed until this moment how empty Jean's eyes have become, how thin, how her fiery crimson hair has dulled over the months. "Why don't we continue this discussion, and meanwhile you can go and fuck her one more time, for old time's sake? How does that sound?"
Beast instantly goes violet. "Oh my stars and garters..."
Scott's mouth goes slack, the color drains from Rogue's face, Jean turns to Rogue and puts a trembling finger mere inches away from her nose.
"You two-timing, home-wrecking, miserable whore!" Her aquamarine irises go navy blue and she steps in closer, her spittle hitting the belle's face with every syllable. "You've always wanted what I have, from the very day I met you I knew your mutation suited you well—you leeching, parasitic bitch!"
The familiar sensation of being pulled down into the fire-water consumes her, and it takes every ounce of concentration she has to stay in the present.
Why fight it? This miserable peon is begging for death.
The professor stumbles over his words, the rest of them go silent. He feels Ororo's hand on his shoulder blade, but all he can do is look from Rogue, to Jean, to Scott, and back at Rogue.
No! His brain screams, no, no, no, no, no!
"I loved you, I loved you so much and I gave you everything!" She spins from Rogue to slap Scott across the cheek, if it hurts he does not show it. "And I knew! I knew back then you were unfaithful, and I know now, too! I almost didn't wake up, Scott, I almost died! And you, you-"
"Wait," Bobby interjects, his innocence not at all endearing at this particular moment. "Scott banged Rogue?"
Bobby yelps as Emma grinds her white heel into his foot as viciously as she can.
Her legs can barely keep her upright. "Remy, Ah wanted to tell ya-"
All these years they've both smiled in his face, both lied, assuring him of their strictly-platonic relationship and the whole time...
He snaps. He ignores her tears and her apologies, and he roars. His fist slams into Scott's jaw before anyone can react, the cajun pummels him to the ground mercilessly.
"Stop this madness!" The Professor's exclamation breaks them out of their shock, and Logan pulls Gambit away while Beast does the same with Cyclops.
"I always knew y' weren't as high n' mighty as y' liked everyone to t'ink!" Tears and blood drip from his face; he aims a stream of excess saliva towards Cyclops' boot. "Y' had everyt'ing: de perfect family, de perfect wife, de perfect life! De Professor wanted y' to take over when he retired, de others worship de ground y' walk on, so why? Why did y' have to take de one t'ing dat makes me happy?" He throws Wolverine off of him and wipes sweat from his brow. "I wasn't here back den, mais now? Y' knew she was taken! And what about Jeannie? For dieu sakes, at least have de decency to end t'ings wit her if y' plan on sleepin' around!"
"Oh that's real rich coming from you!" Scott follows the cajun's lead and shoves Beast away. "We all know your history, we all know you've slept around with more women than I can count! How dare you judge me when you've done worse? I've never broken Rogue's heart, I've never set out to hurt her! And when she needed you the most? You chickened out, you deserted her!"
"He didn't-"
"No, Rogue, call it what you want but the truth of the matter is that he's weak. He's a sniveling, pathetic excuse of a human and he doesn't deserve you, never has."
"And I suppose you do?" The red head's eyes are still watery, but her voice does not waver. "A divorce? Is that what you want? Do you want to leave me for her? Well do it, Scott, because our marriage fell apart a long time ago."
"Jean-"
"Remy-"
"Rogue-"
"We're running out of time." He turns a light shade of violet once more as the two warring couples turn to glare at him. "Perhaps we could request more time…?"
"No," Remy croaks. "We're done here." He walks away, and Rogue reaches for him.
"Don' touch me you fuckin' whore! Don' ever touch me again!"
She doesn't beg, she doesn't cry, but she does get angry.
"Who the hell do ya think you are? What Ah did was horrible, but yoah no better either! At least Ah had feelings for Scott, at least he wasn't some bar hoppin' hussy Ah found on the streets!"
"Don' y' see?" His hands curl into fists and he shakes them in her face. "Dat's what kills me, chère! None of dem meant a damn t'ing to me! My heart was wit you de entire time. It wouldn't hurt as much knowin' you've slept with a hundred hommes as it hurts knowin' you slept with one homme y' had feelin's for!"
"Ah wanted to tell ya myself, Ah never wanted ya to find out like this-"
"Den why didn't y'?"
She wipes away her tears, willing herself not to shed anymore. "Because Ah felt like Ah had to protect ya from the truth. Ya always had this unrealistic picture of who Ah was in yoah head. Ya saw me as innocent, as naïve, as untouched. Ya thought Ah needed protection and ya wanted to be the only one doin' it. For some reason, ya disillusioned yourself into believin' Ah was perfect. Somewhere along the line, ya forgot that Ah was human. Instead, Ah was yoah redemption, Ah could cleanse ya. Ya never thought to look deeper, ya never paid any mind to the clues Ah tried givin' ya. All ya saw was a chance to save yoah soul, and that's what isn't fair. Yoah selfish, Remy, truly selfish!"
"Cute speech," Jean sneers. "Doesn't change the fact that you put me through the same pain he put you through!" She backs away from the group, as if unable to stand the close proximity. "You make me sick, always presenting yourself as this poor, unfortunate creature that can't control her powers. But this whole time you've been using this to your advantage!" She points to Ororo. "'Storm and Remy had a connection long before you came here, and even though you saw this you had to insert yourself. Bobby and Piotr's attention weren't enough? Scott…Scott is my one and only and every time I look at him I'll have to be reminded that you had your stinking cunt all over him—"
Rogue's face colors and she's ashamed to realize her next response has nothing to do with Phoenix's presence. "Well, shuga, maybe if ya knew how to please yoah man—he wouldn't have come seeking comfort from me." The belle cocks her hip and doesn't take her eyes from Jean's.
'Enough!' His demand is bellowed both aloud and in their minds; it echoes in their heads: so that they have no choice but to listen, to bend to his will.
"Never," Xavier begins, his whisper no less fierce than his yell," and I do mean never—have I seen teammates, much less ladies and gentlemen, behave in such a way! I am appalled to learn that such discrepancies have gone on under our roof, the roof of our family."
Their mentor wheels toward the base where Lilandra and her brood reside. "I've watched you all grow and learn from teenagers, I've watched you change. Most importantly," he turns back to them all, the endless void of space full of stars and planets becoming his backdrop. "—I've watched you all risk your lives for each other, time after time."
"Scott, Rogue."
The team leader faces his superior with pride, Rogue regards him with apprehension.
"Both of you have desecrated the sacred union that is marriage—Scott, I did not raise you this way. I did not appoint you to take over in my stead so you could philander about and abuse the authority you've been given. Rogue—"he shakes his head, looking very sad.
"I've always admired your fierce loyalty: your dedication to the well-being of your teammates—even at great personal risk, but this," the professor shakes his head yet again, almost at a loss of words. "This is so unlike you, my dear. And I must say that I am so disappointed in you."
"She's always been a disappointment," Jean interjects. "She wouldn't even have control of her mutation if it wasn't for absorbing Phoenix—"
"She saved your hide." Logan adds around a cigar. "You couldn't handle it, and she is. Don't like to put myself in other people's business but you have no right to throw that in her face. The only reason you ain't in a nut-house is because Rogue saved yer ass." He shrugs. "And quite frankly, Cajun—can't really get mad at her for doing something you've done to her a million times over."
The wolverine steps forward, cigar inbetween his teeth and cracks his knuckles. "Don't mean to interrupt ya, Chuck, but we're down to hours. All bullshit aside—we'd die for anyone standin' here. We can have a good 'ole family feud at another time—everybody's gotta ask themselves here and now: you fightin'? Or you hidin' back at the compound? It's that simple, no need for extra discussion."
He grunts, nodding once at his teammates and proceeding to depart to the training sector. He leaves silence in his wake.
Remy doesn't know what to say, so he does not speak. Instead, he wraps his arms around Rogue and leans heavily on her for support.
"Never been one to swallow m' pride, and I won' lie and say dat I ain't angry. But dere's plenty of time for fightin', chère."
She promised herself that she would not shed anymore tears.
"Ah know this ain't over. Ah promise ya shuga, no more secrets. When we get back home- an' we will make it back home- we'll work all this out, kay? Everything will be alright."
As he nods and holds her tighter, Remy realizes for the first time just how strong Rogue is, and how foolish he'd been thinking for so long that she is the one who needs protecting.
"Jean." Her face is hard, yet fragile as she addresses her former lover's wife. "What Ah did is unforgiveable, Ah won't hold it against ya if ya don't wanna fight for me. Ah'm sorry, Jean. Yoah right—Ah was always jealous of what ya had. But, to protect what Ah have now…Ah gotta focus on trainin'. When we get back, Ah promise Ah'll do everthin' in my power to make up for what Ah've done."
Xavier swallows, still reeling from the recent confrontation. "Now is your last chance. If you do not want to fight, say it now, or forever hold your peace." He looks at both Jean and Betsy as he says this.
Jean turns to Scott's hopeful face, and then to Rogue's resigned one. The two women stare into each other's eyes for what seems like forever. They seem to come to some sort of silent agreement, and Jean sighs. "I'll stay, Professor. Personal issues aside, Rogue fought and risked her life for me when I was in this predicament, and I still, I still consider her my friend."
"Thank ya, Jean. Ah know Ah don't deserve it."
Xavier's approval is tangible, and Scott takes his wife's hand in his own. Rogue isn't sure, but she thinks she sees a ghost of a smile on the red head's face.
"Betsy?"
"I'll stay. I couldn't bear to put you all at an even greater disadvantage because I decided not to fight."
A single crack in their team's foundation lessens, and though there is anger and spite and bitterness and many more wreckage to repair—they haven't trained as long as they have to let one of their own fall. Issues within their rankings will be handled by their rankings—an outsider will never be enough to tear them apart.
Snikt. "Enough of this lovey-dovey bullshit." He smirks over at the older man. "Why don't you wheel outta here, Chuck? Time for the kiddies to play."
He raises his eyebrow, slightly troubled by Logan's feral grin. "Very well. But when we get back to the mansion you and I are going to have a little chat about your disturbing fascination with all things violent and bloody."
When we get back to the mansion…
The statement hangs over them all like a heavy cloud, and Rogue holds onto Remy even tighter.
She'll make sure these people don't die for her, even if she herself perishes in the process.
Before things have a chance to unravel even further, Wolverine sniffs the air and growls. "They're moving towards us, we're runnin' out of time."
Cyclops hardens his resolve, understanding suddenly the hurt he's caused, and all that is at stake to be lost.
"Choose your sparring partners. And make no mistake—"his hand tightens around his wife's. "This isn't a DR session. There are no re-do's. Only death."
I can hardly wait.
Someone cries, leaving Red eyes at night, Red eyes at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red. Skies. At. Night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. Red Skies at night, Red Skies at night. ~Red Skies- Fixx