Disclaimer: Marvel owns all X-Men related things, though I own this fic and the general concept for it.
Rating: Rated M for language and mature subject matter.
For ROMY AMV fans: If anyone is interested, go to YouTube and search for Rogue Gambit videos. Anything by "karebare89" was made by myself. I have made numerous videos for ROMY, a few anime, and even some of my editing projects from school are up there. Hope you guys check 'em out.
Enjoy the chapter!!
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"Hank!" Kitty shouted as she ran through the med bay, looking frantically for the furry doctor, "Mr. McCoy!"
Quickly emerging from his office around the corner, Hank pulled off his glasses and looked at the frantic girl in confusion, "Kitty, what's wrong?!"
She breathed out quickly, "It's Remy! He's awake, but he's trying to leave."
Hank immediately followed her down the halls and back to the room, finding the Cajun being held in the bed by Piotr, refusing to let him leave. At any other time, the good doctor would have found the situation comical. But there was too much urgency and tension in the room at this point. As he moved into the room, Hank motioned for Piotr to let his friend go.
"Piotr, thank you, but that is unnecessary," Piotr did as he was told and let him go. Remy only looked back at the doctor, ready to attempt at leaving again, "I'm sorry, Remy, you are in no condition to go anywhere."
Remy shook his head quickly, still unsure of what was going on around him, "What happened?"
Piotr moved back towards Kitty, who seemed extremely frightened of what was happening in the room. Hank, turned back to the two and nodded towards the door. They left silently.
"Dat bad?" Remy asked again, apparently finding his wits again.
Hank regarded the younger man sadly, "It's been 3 weeks, Gambit," he sighed once, "You've… been unconscious since we left the tunnels, and there were some intense injuries you sustained."
He seemed to pay little attention, only nodding that he heard what Hank was saying. Remy gingerly reached down his side and felt the heavy bandaging across his ribs. It slowly came back to him. He remembered hearing that gun shot. Didn't notice it much at the time. Just something quick in his side. But when you've been trained to work through pain all your life, you mentally block it. That is until the adrenaline wears off.
Dragging Remy from his memories, Hank spoke up again, attempting to add a positive mood, "You were very lucky that you're tougher then you look. However, you will have to go through some physical therapy sessions. Not too many, I assure you. I'm sure you're body will heal faster then most," Hank approached the young man, taking his chart and writing off numerous key notes, "I'd like to do a run through to see how your body is healing."
Remy simply nodded, never meeting Hank's look, "Knock yo'self out."
During the run through of re-bandaging, blood pressure, heart rate, and all that, Remy could only recall the events that happened before he blacked out. Something was missing. He couldn't remember what had made him collapse. It was weird, like there was a void in his memory. Almost like when trauma patients have blocks during a terrifying event. Their memory can only draw blanks.
Only then did it hit him. The Acolyte base, and New Orleans too. Each time, there was that same void, that blackout. Rogue had absorbed him. 'Merde…'
After Hank finished the rounds, he looked back up at Remy, who was still dazed, "Well, Monsieur LeBeau, I am happy to tell you that due to your spectacular bed rest, your wounds have almost completely healed themselves. Some scarring, no doubt about that. But it'll be a full recovery. And your systems seem to be functioning just fine. You may not even need that physical therapy."
Remy looked up at Hank for moment and asked, "Dat mean I don' have t' stay in here?"
Hank laughed at the eagerness to leave, "Yes, Remy. You have my discharge. But I would recommend you slowly working your way back into Danger Room sessions before getting back into the field again."
"T'anks," he replied, hopping off the bed and heading into the closet nearby for spare clothes to change into.
Hank shook his head solemnly at the man before him before turning to leave the room.
"Hank?"
He turned to look back at Remy, "Yes?"
Remy swallowed hard before asking, "Pet' wouldn' tell me. Where's Rogue?"
Taking a breath and sighing, Hank nodded his head in understanding, "We… aren't quite sure."
Remy seemed to be shocked by his answer, "What do y' mean y' aren' sure?"
"Do not get me wrong. She is in good health; best that can be expected," Hank quickly replied to rectify his response.
"Den where is she?" Remy asked again, hoping to get a better answer.
Hank knew it wasn't his place to answer. The Professor should explain it to him, "Xavier can give you more details. I'm sure he will be expecting you soon."
With that, Hank left the room, leaving a frustrated and silent Cajun.
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"So… she jus'… up an' left?"
Xavier sat behind his large oak desk, contemplating and gauging the young man's reaction to the situation, "Unfortunately, Rogue felt that she could not recover from the ordeal while at the Institute. She held too much grievance and, as much as I would hate to admit, she felt that being on her own was better for the time being."
Never had Xavier wanted to think that one of his students was unable to receive his help regarding their powers and traumas. Rogue, however, had been one of his biggest undertakings. Though he had promised to help her control her power, in the end, he really had given the young woman an empty promise; something he could not guarantee. He could only hope that she found the answers she desperately sought while aloft from her home.
Remy rose from the chair before Xavier, his head low in disbelief. It seemed incomprehensible to him that she would leave without word, "Didn' say to where?"
"No. She probably though we would follow her if we knew where she would go."
Remy looked back to Xavier for a moment. Though his thoughts were concealed from the mentor, it was plain by the look on his face he knew something. It was making him twitch in discomfort.
"Remy, I understand you and Rogue grew close while you have been on the team. It perfectly natural that you are upset with her leaving…"
"Non," Remy responded quickly, "i's more den dat."
Xavier noticed the sudden change in his countenance. There was something else.
Ah, yes, now he remembered. Ororo and Piotr had told him after the attack. Remy had admitted to them that he had once worked for Sinister. And with Rogue now possessing those recent memories, he feared that she would acknowledge his past and turn her back on him.
"It's the memories she took from you," Xavier pushed a little.
Remy should have known he couldn't have kept that part of his life hidden forever. Sooner or later, the truth always came out, no matter how good a poker face he had. He scoffed at the remark, "She's in danger, jus' by knowing what I know."
"What sort of danger?"
"Not'in' immediate," was all he said before rethinking his answer, "But she tries to piece it together, and goes places she shouldn', den it becomes a big problem. For de bot' of us."
Xavier nodded with acknowledgment, "I understand. However, for the time being, I suggest we let her be on her own. Perhaps she will not pursue anything she cannot handle."
Remy only nodded before turning and leaving the office. Once he shut the door, he mumbled to himself, "You don' know her de way I do."
He went back to his room that he shared with Piotr. Unoccupied, he sat on his bed in the dark, contemplating what he should do. Stay at the mansion, wait for her to come back. Sure, and be bored with everything the X-Men had to offer. Go after her, convince her to come back with him. What if she didn't want to be near him? What if she already found out what he did? Was that why she left in the first place?
There were too many what if's to think about. Nothing was for certain. How like her. The Rogue; a complete and utter mystery when she wanted to be.
The room felt cold without her there. Was she this cold when he left her to head down to the War Room that night? Remy looked back at the side of the bed she had slept on all those weeks whenever she stayed in his room. Though the bed was neat and made, he could almost she her still lying there, sheets just barely covering her from his view.
Why did he have to be so greedy?
That one, little kiss was going to be the downfall for everything he had with Rogue. It was always his selfishness, his ego. The feeling that he was invincible. It never hit him as hard as it did now that he was a damned man. Not with the Guild, not with Sinister. None of it hurt as much as it did now.
So what would he do? Leave her be? Maybe she was better off without him. Maybe she found someone else to be with that made her happy. It was always a possibility. But he missed her. He'd only been awake for a few hours, but he already felt like he had been without her for ages. Maybe she felt the same way while he was asleep.
Remy could have very easily used his resources, his contacts, any means necessary to find her. He always had his ways of finding people, and when it came to Rogue, he needed to know where she was, if she was okay, if she missed him like he did her.
After thinking over the same repetitive thoughts, Remy couldn't take it anymore. He needed a distraction. Something, anything!
He got off the bed, went to his closet and got changed into his more normal clothing. He grabbed his keys off his nightstand table and went to chair to get his coat, only to find it gone. He checked in the closet, the drawers, anywhere someone might have misplaced it, but it was nowhere to be found.
Remy groaned to himself before grabbing a spare, much shorter, black leather jacket he kept and left his room, passing by Logan on his way out. Logan himself was surprised to see the Cajun up and around. How he wished Rogue had taken the communicator with her so he could call her right now. Until then, however…
"Wow, back from the dead, Gumbo?"
"Vous souhaitez," Remy sneered in reply.
"Quelqu'un s'est réveillé du mauvais côté du coma," Logan remarked quickly, getting a crooked look from Remy. He smirked back as Remy flipped up the collar of his jacket.
Just as Logan was going to walk away, he asked, "You seen where my coat went?"
Logan paused, trying to think of the perfect response, "Not for about… three weeks now."
As Logan left the Cajun in the hallway, Remy could only shake his head in disbelief. Suddenly, he didn't care so much that his coat was gone. He knew it was in good hands.
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Translations:
Vous souhaitez - You wish.
Quelqu'un s'est réveillé du mauvais côté du coma - Someone woke up on the wrong side of the coma.
Wow, that took a while to come up with. I wanted to get another one in. I have a few assignments due in the next few weeks and portfolios for colleges, so I thought I should get one more in.
PLEASE!!! I am asking you guys to review the story. It means a lot if you do, instead of just adding it to a fave's or alerts, though that means a lot too.
So review, reply, recommend, etc… but don't flame, please and thank you! ^__^
Until next time…
