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.
Enjoy the chapter!!
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Well…
As they said they would, they found her.
They had been at it for days…
Night after night, while the professor and the students slept, Remy and Logan were hard at work on their personal mission to track Rogue down.
Without a telepath operating the system, it became much harder to locate a mutant. It wasn't impossible, but much harder. All the data, knowledge, and detection capabilities Cerebro possessed took hours of processing for the two men, keeping them up and awake most nights just to find a single location. But in the end, it had all paid out.
Or so Logan thought anyways.
Everything they looked through pointed directly to New Orleans. Rogue had to be there; there was no doubt about it. And as simple as it seemed, there was always another angle to these situations.
Remy ran his hand through his long since washed hair, frustrated by the outcome of their efforts he and Logan had put into figuring out Rogue's location. Why, in all the places of the world, had Rogue gone back to New Orleans?
It had been a rush their systems when Cerebro finally came up with the location.
"Mutant detected; New Orleans, Louisiana, 1244 Esplanade Avenue."
Both men were relieved and shocked at the same time. But why was she in the French Quarter?
"Got her," Logan stated simply turning back to the Cajun, faces both stern and set. They'd be leaving within the day, firm and decided already. Remy didn't seem particularly positive, however. Just looked at the screen long and hard, like it did something wrong.
"Somethin' up, Cajun?" Logan asked, unhappy with the look coming from the Cajun.
Remy took a moment to respond, "Maybe... maybe we outta leave Rogue alone. She obviously left for a reason, non?"
"You sayin' you don't wanna go after her after the hours spent tryin' to find her, now?" exclaimed the feral man, not believing Remy's sudden change of mind.
Another pause, Remy's knuckles growing pale with his grip on the control panel. His face didn't show it though, "Logan, I can't go back dere."
Logan didn't exactly react to it. There was more information Remy wasn't telling him.
"What's the worst that could happen? She tells ya to leave without her? You know she hides in the tough guy routine. Probably misses you more then anythin'." he asked.
Remy's head went slack and let his head fall, wording this carefully. If Rogue really was caught between all of this, it would be his neck.
"Rogue's not de problem. If I could, I'd be down dere within de hour."
"Then what's the problem?" Logan retorted, getting impatient with Gambit beading around the bush.
"It's de Guilds. Dey've got some problems with me, really." Remy responded with a lack-luster enthusiasm.
"What the hell could you have done to piss them off? I thought you were their prized thief."
"What does it matter?" Remy exclaimed, standing from his seat to face Logan, "Doesn't change dat I can't go back dere, doesn't change what I did!"
"But it could change whether or not Rogue is okay," Logan said sternly, not moving an inch from Remy's outburst.
Remy tried hard to not to show it, but is past was slowly catching up to him. Happened with Sinister, why wouldn't it happen again with the Guilds? He turned away from Logan and moved to the far wall, throwing a very hard and fast punch it's way, the sound echoing around the War Room. Logan still didn't budge.
A few deep breaths later, Remy spoke up again.
"De thieves have been at war with other Guilds for as long as I can remember. Assassins have been our oldest enemies, and I was always taught te hate dem. But when I was younger, I became friends with the head of the Assassin's daughter, Belladonna, and as we grew up, our families saw it as an out of the wars; an arranged marriage. De elders t'ought it'd fix everyt'in'."
"But it didn't." Logan finished. Remy shook his head in response.
"It was supposed to take place about 6 months ago, when Apocalypse appeared. It was why none of de X-Men could find me for help.
"Up 'til de day of, t'ings were goin' as scheduled, besides de fact dat I had no intention of marryin' Belle…"
"Why's that?" Logan interrupted.
Remy knew the answer flawlessly, "As a friend, she was okay. But I never saw her as anything more. We tried dating for a while, but she was full of herself, and as an assassin, she could be evilly morbid and cold."
"Why didn't you tell your family?"
"I tried, but when you're in de family, your duty to them comes first. It's de same in any other crime family."
Logan nodded in understanding, slowly beginning to see the other side of the coin.
"Before de ceremony, Belle's brother, Julian, attacked me. Kept sayin' dat he'd nev'a let his family marry a thief."
Remy turned from the wall and sat in one of the nearby chairs, running his hand through his hair, frustrated by his own behavior, "Nearly killed him tryin' te defend myself. De assassins saw me as a threat rath'a den Julian, so… to maintain some level of peace, I had to leave. Only been back dere once since den, and it was with dere permission. If I go back dere now, not only would I lose my own head, but de wars will start again, and my family will die."
Logan didn't have to be a telepath to see how much this was tearing at Remy. As much as he wanted to make sure Rogue was okay and convince her to come back home, he couldn't risk his family's wellbeing. He was stuck. Logan understood better then most when duty came before the heart.
But there had to be some way around it.
"How likely is it they find out your in the city within 2 days?"
Remy though about it, "Ugh… probably 50/50 odds. Depends on if dere lookin' for somet'in' specific. But dey all know who I am."
"Any secret routes you might know about that could get us into the city and back out in 2 days?"
Remy sat for a moment. There were a few routes he could think of, but most were still in use by the Guilds… except for one, "Dere is one. Only oth'a person dat knows of it is my broth'a. And I doubt he still uses it fo' anyt'in'. Leads right into de quarter. But… if we're caught down dere…"
Logan stopped him right then and there, "Do you wanna see her?"
Head snapping to attention, Remy stared back at Logan, "You even have to ask?"
Logan grinned, "Well then, looks like we gotta make some travel plans."
Remy paused and turned his head from Logan, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking her fingers. Staring at him solidly, Remy nodded. As much as he wanted to stay amongst the living, his desire to see Rogue was stronger. All he could do was wonder what she was doing right now.
xxx
A month and a half earlier
It was the third time that week.
The nightmares were gone. Vanished almost completely as if they had never even happened. The relief of which Rogue was forever grateful for. It had to have been losing all those catalogues of powers and psyches. Remy was right. It wasn't worth having that secondary power if it was torturing her. And thankfully, they were gone.
Now, however, wasn't a nightmare, but something Rogue determined to be worse. Carol was attacking her in her sleep again.
When she had a nightmare, they were frightening, realistic, and emotional, yes. But in comparison to being mentally attacked by a conscious being within the mind, was ten times as worse. They knew your fears, your weakest points, how to get you when you were unprepared; completely different from having a nightmare.
Carol was become acclimated to being within Rogue. Learning her weaknesses, looking through her memories, using what Rogue hated and feared most to attack her while she wasn't conscious. And it was slowly getting worse, Rogue feared. Carol would be close to taking over her body and she would never be aware of it. She could live again while Rogue remained mentally dormant.
After what she had just experienced, Rogue knew she wouldn't be able to sleep again that night… or any other night maybe. Waking in a cold sweat, her heart beating a mile a minute, and her imagination constantly replaying the graphic image of that monster attacking her.
Rogue rolled out of her bed and walked downstairs to the kitchen. She made herself some coffee and 4:28 am. The irony of it all. Leave to regain some sanity and end up right where she was before. All that was missing was the comfort she had from her friends… her family.
Rogue missed them.
Sipping from her mug, Rogue moved to the window and watched the rainfall and listened to the patter against the house. It had been like this for two days straight. Water and heat in the South was never a great thing. But Rogue found it comforting. Just staring outside at the street, watching the few cars that would pass by in the early morning, splashing the large puddles onto the sidewalks that were only visible by the few streetlamps.
Rogue turned away from the window and sat at the counter, grabbing the nearby newspaper that was delivered the day prior. If she was going to up for the rest of the night, may as well be productive.
Though she had been partially enjoying her time in New Orleans the last week, she quickly realized that she was going to have to maintain a certain lifestyle if she wanted to stay here. A lifestyle that would include a job, most importantly.
Rogue had been sifting through the classifieds for a few days now, but hadn't found anything that jumped out at her. After all, what kind of job could she get as an eighteen year-old, high school dropout? Most she could expect was waitressing, and she knew that.
It was as she acknowledged that fact that she read over a fairly large ad pertaining to Tujague's.
"What do we have here?" Rogue murmured to herself, reading over the ad.
They were looking for new waiting staff. One of the most respected and visited restaurants in the state, and they were putting out ads for servers? Must've been her lucky day.
Since that day, for the next month and a half, Rogue quickly became a much-appreciated personality at Tujague's. The locals and sightseers, mainly of the male variety, found her enticing and a welcomed treat. The managers were thrilled to have found someone so coordinated with the job, but still a pleasure to be around with all the guests and co-workers.
Rogue couldn't deny that her personality had rapidly changed the last few weeks, but she liked it. People were more open to her, no one was afraid of her. Sure, they didn't know she was a mutant, but it gave her a fresh start; the exact kind she had been looking for since her powers manifested all those years ago. More so then pleasing the customers or her bosses, Rogue was pleased with herself. Her self-confidence was better then ever and she was able to be whoever she wanted to be, mainly herself.
Rogue had spent too much time living up to other people's expectations, whether it was school, Mystique, or the X-Men. Now, she only set her own standards, and as far as she was concerned, she was living up to them.
After a month of working, Rogue sold her motorcycle and used the money, plus some extra funds, to buy the red convertible that had a for sale sign a few doors down from her house. The owners, a couple that had looked like they enjoyed their long lives, were in their 70's and had bought the car when the husband was having his mid-life crisis. Barely driven, the car was in great condition and Rogue had instantly fallen in love with it. Though she herself barely drove it for the few weeks after because she needed to earn more money to afford the rising gas prices. For the time, Rogue walked everywhere she went, and after a while, her co-workers would comment on how 'tiny' her waist was.
After work one day, Rogue was getting ready to leave for the night in the women's washroom, untying her hair and putting away her apron, Monique, one of the other servers, a redhead, walked in to get ready to leave as well.
"Hey Rogue. How'd your till go ov'a today?" Monique asked, bubbly as ever.
Rogue smiled back in the mirror, "Was great. Made lil' ov'a six hundred in sales, and about seventy in tips."
"Wow! Really got a followin', huh?" Monique responded from inside the bathroom stall, "I got about forty. But de new girls always get de bigger pay outs for a while."
"Ah, so ya sayin' i's not gonna last for long, suga'?" Rogue laughed back, zipping up her bag.
"Precisely! Enjoy it while ya can," exclaimed the more mature woman, stepping out of the stall, dressed in her casual clothes, "Oh, don' fo'get to pick up yo' pay cheque. Dey got 'em in de back office."
"Thanks for the remind'a, hun. Would've left without it."
"No prob," Monique replied, fluffing her hair a little. Monique couldn't have been much older then Rogue, maybe 22 or 23. She certainly didn't look it though, "By de way, did you notice a couple o' guys lookin' yo' way durin' de end o' de dinn'a rush? One o' dem asked 'bout ya like he knew ya or somet'in'. Kind o' creepy if ya ask me."
Rogue grabbed her back and took one last look over her shoulder before leaving, "Nah, can' say Ah did. Probly just a bunch of cocky guys who'll go aft'a anythin' in a skirt."
Monique laughed as Rogue walked out to the door, "Haha, like you ev'a WEAR one! N'ght, hun!"
"Night, suga'," Rogue called back.
The night wasn't perfect. Rain started coming down about halfway through Rogue's walk home. It was then that Rogue completely forgot to get her cheque, even after Monique had reminded her.
"God dang it," Rogue muttered as she pivoted on the spot and walked back to the restaurant. Soaked to the bone, she got back in 10 minutes. Armand was just closing up when she got back, and he handed her her cheque, saying that he realized she forgot it and was going to give it to her tomorrow when she came in for the lunch shift. Rogue thanked him, and began walking, yet again through the rain, back home.
Around the same area she turned back, the rain had slowly stopped, leaving Rogue thoroughly soaked in the humid air. But even so, Rogue decided to walk a bit slower. It was late, almost two in the morning, and barely anyone on the more suburban streets. The air was crisper and Rogue loved the smell of fresh rain. Too bad it wasn't midday, might've been a rainbow.
As Rogue walked down the sidewalk, only a block away from the house, she heard a car rounding the corner behind her. She didn't think much of it. She heard the car stop, probably 10 feet behind her, and saw the headlights shut off in her peripheral. The engine still ran however. Still ignoring it, Rogue kept walking.
Then she heard the engine revved as it crawled a few feet. Rogue decided to look over her shoulder, trying to keep cool. The car, looking to be one too fancy to belong in the neighborhood, was still running, was stopped by the curb again. Rogue picked up her pace a little, nothing too conspicuous. But as fast as it had happened, the mysterious car turned its headlights back on and drove off down the street and around the corner. As Rogue walked up to her street, she looked down and didn't see the car in sight. She breathed with a relief and walked into the house.
"Man, that was weird."
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Yay!! Another chapter!
Sorry for the wait.
Like I've said, I have this story figured out in my head. And I was able to fully write this one a while back, but I was rethinking my methodology of the lot and my writing style, ergo, the delays.
But I promise, you guys will see a reunion soon…. MUAHAHAHA! But what lurks in the dark?
Thanks for all the reviews and alerts you guys have been doing for this fic. It gives proper motivation to write it. ^__^
Until Next Time…
