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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Rogue had fallen asleep long ago on the kitchen floor, her head resting against the cupboard doors. She still had dried tears along her cheeks, pale and flushed from the long night on the cold tiled floor. Her lips were dry and cracked from breathing through her mouth throughout the night. She clenched her hands to give her fingers back some warmth, curling her toes as well.
She awoke when the few rays of sunlight bled through the window. Rogue was conscious, but numb. She continued to sit in the floor in her tank top and pajama pants, unwilling to move from where she was.
After Remy had left, her body went cold and her mind numbed. Everything she felt had ceased. Part of her welcomed it, embraced, relished in it. Anything to no longer feel the hate she had for herself and loss of the warmth she had. It was like she was sitting right back in that chair at his bedside. Nothing had changed.
Eventually, Rogue stood from her spot on the floor, staring around at the kitchen. The coffee mugs still on the counter, half drunk and cold.
As she stared at the place she had made a home for herself, she wondered, was it worth it?
Rogue hadn't had much time to contemplate however. A banging emanated from the front door, a hard fist slamming against it fast. She reacted proactively, shifting quickly to the door and checking to see who it was.
"Logan?" she whispered to herself in shock.
She was stirred from her shock when Logan again pounded on her door. Rogue answered quickly, finding him out of breath and ragged. Least to say, he didn't seem surprised or happy.
"What're you…?" she started.
"Where is he?" Logan asked, cutting her off. She shook her head, not understanding, "Who?"
"The Cajun," he replied sharply.
Rogue's eyes widened, "You followed him?"
"I was with him. We came to get you to come back. He went off to talk to you and we were supposed to meet back, but he never showed," Logan said calmly, making his way through the threshold and into the house. He stood in the foyer, looking around and sniffing the air.
"He ain't here," Rogue replied after a pause. Everything was no longer numb, the emotions from the previous night coming back. She had meant what she said to Remy. She wanted to cut this part of her life out. Even if it meant lying to them and to herself, "He nev'a was."
"Bullshit," Logan said without a thought. He turned on his heel and stalked back to his bike, grabbing his helmet and tossing Rogue a second. She stared at it confused and then back to Logan, "His scent goes into the house and it's on you. He was here. I can smell somethin' else too. Somethin' greasy. The Assassins probably got to him. There ain't much time. They'll gut 'im if we wait any longer."
"And what makes you think Ah give a rat's ass?" she retorted angrily.
Logan looked over his shoulder and up the pass to see Rogue, throwing the helmet back at him. It hit him, and it hit him hard. He was knocked flat onto his back and tried to regain some composure as he raised himself to his elbows, hearing Rogue slam the front door. She put her back to the door, attempting to stifle the tears and sniffles that emitted from her. God, she was miserable.
Logan stood with the helmet in hand and walked back up the path to door.
"Rogue…?"
She ignored the first call.
"Rogue. I don't know what happened between you two. But he's in trouble. And you know what the assassins are capable of."
Again, no response.
"Forget the X-Men and what they want, what I want, or even what the Cajun wants! Be selfish for once and take what you want! And we both know, you don't what him dead."
Logan waited.
"Rogue, please! We've gotta help him. Otherwise, you'll regret it for the rest of your life, knowin' that you could've done somethin'."
And he waited.
The door didn't open and he heard no sound.
Logan gave up trying to convince her for now. There wasn't any time left to try. Gambit's life was at stake. He'd come back, but after he saved the sorry Cajun's ass and they'd both bring Rogue home.
As Logan mounted his bike and put on his helmet, he heard the door open and close with a fast click, hearing heavy heels coming down the path. He turned to see Rogue, dressed in the new uniform given to her right before she left. The yellow and green looked good on her, as did the bomber jacket and ankle cowboy kicks.
"Ah'm sorry," was all she said.
Logan smiled before handing her the helmet, "The scent is dry and dull. They've been gone a while. We may not have much time."
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Remy was severely disoriented when he finally regained consciousness. However, he soon recognized where he was. The holding cells in the bottom of the Assassin's mansion hadn't changed a bit. It was even the same cell he was held in during the time of his trial, when he was exiled. Never thought he'd be back here again.
Remy quickly assessed the cell, finding that his hands were bound behind his back. He made his first attempt to break the binds, charging up some energy, but nothing came of it.
"What de…?" he mumbled.
He tried again, but nothing.
Remy soon realized that something metal and solid was around his neck. It couldn't be. How had the Assassins gotten hold of the collars? He hung his head down, leaning up again the cold wall behind him, wincing as the restraints on his wrists twisted in an odd way. They were smart enough to take all of the small items and belongings off his person, leaving him in just his jeans, t-shirt, and socks. Though he was surprised they let him keep his socks on.
There was nothing he could pick the lock with near him, no way to get the collar off either. Even tough he now knew how the collar could be taken off, there was certainly no way of doing so without another person to help.
Not much time was spent worrying over it, however, as Remy heard the metal doors creak open down the hall and heavy boots on the solid stone floors.
"Well, good ta see ya finally awake, LeBeau," came the same man who Remy instantly remembered as the one who brought him here in the first place.
"Bad to see yo' ugly mug again, Boudreaux," Remy countered smarmily.
"I wouldn' try dat bull if I was you. Considerin' the predicament yo' currently in," Julien replied with a very smug countenance. It had been a while since Remy had last seen Julien, bleeding and crying for his life. His face still showed signs of scars from the fight they had.
Before Remy could make some snarky comeback, the metal doors creaked again with more Assassins entering the basement. The echo was deafening as the murmurs and clacks of metal and stone rang in the halls. Remy refused to show his dismay for the situation, being caged in the stronghold of trained killers, all of whom had a big old target on his back.
Remy recognized Marius immediately, the leader of the Assassin's Guild, the father of Julien and Remy's ex-fiancé, Belladonna.
"Well what do we have here?" Marius said, his voice filled with an almost joy at the catch his son had found, "An exiled thief. What beings you back into our neck o' de woods?"
"Just figured I'd see how de ol' neighborhood was swin'," Remy joked, shrugging his shoulders, "You just can't get good gumbo up north."
"Hmm, seems you haven't quite learned to hold your tongue when you're in a dire situation," Marius replied, a smirk appearing on his face.
"Yo' in reeeal trouble now, LeBeau!" one of the Assassin's chided, as they all chuckled.
Remy eyed them carefully. He knew the consequences of coming back here. He knew what would happen. He could only hope that Wolverine was aware of the situation and had began figured out how to get his swamp ass out the situation.
In the mean time, without his powers, Remy couldn't do very much but ask questions, may distract them.
"I see you've acquired some interestin' tech while I was gone. Special fo' moi?" He asked sweetly, knowing full well who supplied them the collar. He just needed to know why.
Marius turned to Julien to make sure he remained silent, "I'm sure you already know the origins of dat colla'. It was how we found out about it."
Remy looked at Marius a little puzzled, "Why's dat?"
"Don't think that we never kept tabs on you, LeBeau. Especially after dat fiasco in New York a few months ago," Marius snickered, crouching to Remy's level, "You know de Assassin's know betta' than to not keep track of our enemies. And afta' all, the enemy of my enemy is mah friend."
Remy tried to not show his understanding of what he meant, but he knew. The Assassin's had bargained with Mister Sinister. And why wouldn't they form a pact? They both had a common obstacle in LeBeau. Might as well share that information.
"We hope you enjoy yo' stay here, Remy," Marius continued with a eerie smile, standing from his position and waving the other assassins to leave the basement, "It won't be fo' long."
Marius turned and left Remy to his thoughts and loneliness, to contemplate his fate. The door closed with an echoing, sharp bang, ringing for a few moments, highlighting the true despair of Remy's situation. He rested again on the cold wall and stared up at the ceiling. All he could think of was the fact that he was about to face trial once again, and this time, it would mean his death.
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I'm BAAAACK!
I'm so sorry for the overly long hiatus guys. And sorry to come back with a short chapter. It's been quite a while since I updated this fic, probably almost 5 years. But that was when I started my degree, and I officially finished it about 3 weeks ago. I'm an adult now!
So now that I'm finished school (and I already have a job), I'll hopefully be able to find a little more spare time to get back to a few hobbies of mine, like photography and my fanfic writing. So please expect updates for this and my other ROMY fic, Meet You In The Red Room, in the near future.
So…
Until next time…
