Author's Notes: Guys, I don't usually write the notes before the story, but I felt this one called for it. For those of you who are unfamiliar with what's going on in Astonishing X-Men, believe me, it's so confusing, even I am!

What you need to know to follow this story is basically this: They're in the Astral Plane under the dominion of Farouk, the Shadow King. He and Professor Xavier (which we are still unsure if it really is him) are dueling over the fates of the Astonishing X-Men. The Shadow King wants the X-Men to fall for his illusion, while Xavier is working to break them free of its grasp. Meanwhile, Psylocke, Archangel, and Bishop are in the outside world attempting to protect the bodies of their comrades. As you can see, I obviously changed those players here, it's Remy and Psylocke in the outside and Bishop and Rogue in the astral plane. The UK government isn't too happy about the impromptu attack from a Shadow King-controlled Psylocke which the X-Men just halted. They are concerned about what the mutants could do next and if they should launch a strike to prevent whatever it could be.

I will be dealing here only with the astral plane aspect of the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter too and that I don't disappoint after such lovely reviews left by you guys.

-O-

-O-

Breaking the mental hold was Remy LeBeau's only choice, his only option. The alternative was watching his beloved die a slow death, feeling her body wither just a little more at every passing moment. Even if they could take Bishop and her to a hospital and keep them in assisted coma, the longer they stayed on the astral plane, the higher the chance of permanent brain damage. Her mind, her memories, they were bound to be consumed.

Even if death was meant to take her this time around, she wouldn't even be conscious to see everyone she'd ever loved come from near and far to say farewell and tell her how much they loved her, how much her life had meant to them.

No, she wasn't dying. Not on his watch.

The stakes involved were so high, it was maddening. Remy paced back and forth while Psylocke resumed her task, patiently watching over their friends' bodies.

He stole a quick glance at Bishop's motionless body and could swear the unconscious X-Men was sporting a Mona Lisa smile and felt like kicking the hell out of the large man for that.

"I bet you're enjoying this, mon ami." He muttered bitterly under his breath.

"Would you belt up already? It's not like he was physically touching your girl, your ex, or whatever it is you guys call each other these days."

He stops moving, and turns his blood-red eyes to the telepath, and voiced his concern over how much time they had to defeat Shadow King. Psylocke tried to soothe his nerves and stated once again that she firmly believed in his ability to break Shadow King's control.

"You can do it, Remy. We can do it together. If you get through to her, make her remember you, your love for each other. She will snap out of it, she simply has to."

"Better hurry up, then. We don't have a lot of time with the UK military flying around us."

"Certainly, we don't. But remember their time frame is different. They are having flashes of events. They don't actually sleep in there, for instance. So you should be able to…"

"Just take me back in there, Betsy." He interrupted her. 'I got it. Talk to her, make her remember."

She nodded her head and placed each of her hands on the sides of his head. He took a deep breath, felt a momentary slight discomfort and then, there he was, back to her very own Mississippi.

Since his charming powers were off the table in Shadow King's realm, he knew the task at hand was not even remotely one of the easiest missions he faced in all his long damned life.

"Might be the hardest one." He spoke under his breath. Knowing how strong-willed and stubborn Rogue could be, making her trust him, a complete stranger to her, seemed like a goddamned impossible mission.

There she was, ready to get back into her car after taking her daughter to school. She looked across the car park and her eyes met his. She instantaneously threw him an annoyed look. She was wearing unflattering mom jeans, a green t-shirt that had seen better days and sneakers. It was so not her, he decided. It was all so wrong, he was shaking his head in disbelief without meaning to do it.

Then her head hung low and she walked faster to try to avoid him.

"Anna! Wait! Please?" Her head shot up in alarm. She couldn't believe her ears, he had just called her name.

His voice had a husky drawl and every step he took was in slow motion compared to almost anyone she knew. His idea of hurrying was to bend his head down a little as he sauntered, the pace of his footfalls not changing one iota. That's just the way the man was, born calm, a meticulous thief, one could never change him if they tried. He could be, and he was, crumbling inside, but always managed to keep his poise.

"Excuse me!" She said, not caring to hide how offended she was. "Who the hell are you? How do you know my name?" It was the man, the same man that had been crowding her head since the day before. He smiled at her gently and her heart skipped a beat. She swallowed hard and the smirk he flashed her was proof enough that he noticed her unease.

What he was, what was beautiful about him, came from deep within; it made her want to feel how his lips moved into a kiss, how his hands followed the curves of her body.

'God! These thoughts are dangerous!' She said inside her head, in a feeble attempt to reprimand herself.

There was something about him, she thought. No one feature made the tall mysterious man so handsome, but a combination of all of him, though his eyes came close. She wondered if all other people were swept off their feet when they met that man because of the color of his eyes. As if that were of importance! She knew his would be beautiful in any shade. From them came an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness that overwhelmed her. She felt like trusting him for no good reason at all. Even though the very little rational part of her brain screamed at her that trusting him wasn't a wise choice. But was there a choice at all?

"I know you, Anna. Don't you remember me? Think hard. You know me!"

"No! You must be mistaking me for someone else. Some other girl who also happens to be named Anna. Now, if you'll excuse me." She stepped aside and brushed past him. For a moment, he was tempted to reach out, pull her into his arms, and kiss her passionately, like he hadn't kissed her in a long time.

"Anna! Please! I need to talk to you."

"What the hell do you want from me, sugar?" She asked him exasperated. Her cheeks were flushed and she could actually feel her pulse quickening. That man had some nerve!

"Can we go somewhere quiet? Damn, chére, is that too much to ask? All I ask for is a minute of your attention. I really need to talk to you."

He tried to tell her who he was, what they meant to each other, how she was in dreamland, but she was having none of it. Her temper exploded. She shoved him hard and walked away.

"You! You get away from me, Mister! You hear me? I'm a married woman, for God's sake! A mother! I'll call the cops! I'll call my husband!", she babbled.

He followed her through the car park as she made her way to her car. She stomped all the while. When she reached her vehicle, she turned around to face him. She folded her arms over her chest defiantly. Staring into his eyes, she held his gaze, cockily challenging him.

"Now what? I told you to leave. What you gonna do to me, huh?" She said in a petulant voice, peering at him with raised eyebrows.

"I'm gonna make you remember me." He said, leaning in on her. Her face was so close, so frightened, so beloved, that before he realized it, he kissed her. She gave a suppressed cry and clutched his face between her hands, returning the kiss almost desperately. His tongue exploring her mouth made her melt inside. She gasped with desire as his hands eased gently down her back, stopping only to caress her soft flesh. That was inexplicable and she knew it, she had never felt that way when her husband kissed her. Or perhaps, she did once, but couldn't remember.

The handsome man didn't seem to be able to reign in his desire for her and pulled her body closer to him.

'NO! This is wrong!' Good judgment screamed inside her head and she shoved him away, even if he was all she wanted. When her eyes met his, she saw how the man was mortified at her reaction.

"Chére! You still don't remember me? Incroyable! The way you kissed me, it was the same!" His hands traveled down his hair and he frowned at her in frustration. "You remember me! You do! You kissed me back and the kiss, it felt it perfect, didn't it? I bet it felt amazing for you too, mon coeur."

She stared at him wildly for a moment. His usually playful smile had drawn into a hard line across his face. His perfect lips were swollen from the magnificent kissing session. His strong hands held hers as he stared back deep into her eyes. She couldn't help but blush and look away.

"Just because something feels good, it doesn't make it right!" She responded firmly as she let go of his hands to unnecessarily straighten up her t-shirt. "Can I ask you something, Mister?"

"LeBeau, Remy LeBeau." He offered.

"Right, Mr. LeBeau. Can you please… can you just leave me the hell alone?" He tried to say something but she cut him out. "I'm not who you think I am. I am a mother… and a, and a… a wife and I don't need you fucking up my life, okay?"

"Chére! For fuck's sake! This is not you! Look at you! You like boots! And, and, and... expensive perfume! Is that your dream? Really? To settle for this?" He knew he should carefully choose his words, but he was too angry at his failed attempt to wake her up from the illusion. "Enough of these games, Anna. I'm gonna cut to the chase. What you're living here, this is not real, chére. Can't you see? You're not married to Bishop, this isn't your life! I come from the outside world, you gotta see the light and snap out of this, come with me!'

"Who's to say your reality is the right one? How can you tell which is which?" Her words resounded powerfully and left him speechless. She pulled away from him completely and got into her car, slamming the door hard for good measure. Opening her window, she spoke to him one last time.

"I'm sorry I am not the person you are looking for. And honestly, I think you should see a shrink. Take care of yourself, Mr. LeBeau." And with those words, she drove off.

'Where the fuck did I go wrong?' He asked himself. 'Betsy seemed so sure that this would work.'

'Remy, what's going on? I'm pulling you back. You seem too agitated. I'm afraid for your mental integrity.' He heard the British woman say inside his head. There was an odd sensation, he was neither in nor out of the astral plane. He felt like particles of him were scattered through dimensions, a horrible feeling. With a gasp to get his breath back, he opened his eyes to find he was back to the real world, back to staring at Rogue and Bishop lying unconscious on the floor.

Braddock stared at him in suspense.

"Bloody hell, Gambit! What happened? You were shaking horribly, I feared you were about to convulse!"

"It didn't work, Betsy. And we are wasting time. What the fuck do we do now?"

"I don't know. But I promise you, we'll figure it out."

-O-

She sped up all the way home. Her hands were trembling and her heart racing.

"What in the world did just happen?" She uttered to herself. "That man is crazy! But a hell of a kisser, still crazy, though. And I'm a whore for allowing it to happen, for letting him kiss me.", she spoke bitterly, feeling disgusted at herself.

If she was distracted the day before, today she was a mess. Almost forgot to pick up her precious daughter from school, burned her finger while cooking, a total mess, indeed. She just wouldn't stop thinking of him.

Let's face it, even at a dinner party, she was the one that got ignored. Once people knew the beautiful wife of officer Bishop was just a stay home and bake, make pickles and jar her own pasta sauce type, they glazed over and desperately sought someone more interesting to talk to. Yet that man, that drop dead gorgeous oops here goes my panties man looked at her, not only that, he wanted her. He wanted to talk to her. But he was crazy, right? He had to be.

Half past five, her husband got home. It was a different day, but the same old routine. He played with their daughter in the living room while she fixed them dinner. They ate, he took the dishes to the kitchen while she took the little one down for the night. He watched TV, she cleaned the kitchen. They went upstairs and got ready to sleep. Lucas sat on the bed and was about to turn down the lights when she emerged from their shared bathroom, long hair dripping wet, naked. In the dim light, he couldn't see she'd been crying.

"Wait, babe. Don't go to sleep just yet. I need you tonight."