A/N: Just a warning, this a departure from my usual Rogue/Remy one-shots. They are not together and they are not nice to each other. Just so you know.

Consequences
By: Mercedes Watson

How he had managed to claw his way out of the frozen wasteland of Antarctica was still a bit of a mystery to Remy. He remembered being cold and hungry to the point of emaciation and feeling his body break down internal organs as a source of energy. Then things got foggy and there were flashes of the usual blinding white snow and sun mixed in with flashes of things he didn't understand. And then one day he woke up in some dumpy flat in Punta Arenas, Chile which is, for those who don't know, pretty much the bottom of the world in terms of civilization. He had felt horrible, sluggish and had stayed in bed for a week or two. Which could be expected after the person who he thought was the love of his life left him to die in a sub-zero ice desert. But nary a day above fifty degrees, insanely high winds and no one around who spoke a word of coherent English, got him to a workable level and he left after a few months of de-frosting, so to speak.

Remy might as well still be in Antarctica for all the well being his emotional state was in. He was paranoid, couldn't trust a soul and was just starting to re-perfect his skills at bedding women and not caring. There had been a few unimportant girls at first who served the purpose of reminding him of what it was like to have human contact. Then thoughts of Rogue had begun to enter his mind and like a wounded puppy, he clung to the next girl which had been some waitress in Brasilia, just to reassure himself that he was a loveable person. Eventually his self respect and old self returned and he left her, bound for the Mediterranean coast of France. While with that waitress, he had done some thinking and decided that going back to the X-Men, and more importantly, to her, was not an option for him. Firstly, and obviously, because Rogue was there and Remy's hurt had turned into a cool hatred of her. He doubted he would be able to tolerate being on the same mansion grounds as her, let alone even being in the house. The second reason for him not going back was that it wasn't only Rogue who had left him behind. No one had come back for him, ask Rogue where he was. Sure, he could understand punishment for his crimes, he'd been punishing himself for years after all—but shit, they hadn't even given him a survival kit or a goddamned shirt. (He rarely walked around bare-chested now because of that.) So all 'being on the good side' had gotten him was a bunch of emotional attachments to people who didn't even bat an eyelash at leaving him to his death.

But all of that was the farthest thing from his mind right now. Right now he was a well built, devastatingly handsome, sharply-dressed twenty-something that was dining on the lips of an incredibly gorgeous, well-endowed blonde French girl. His hands were splayed at the lower end of her waist, fingers sneaking under the waistband of her slinky skirt as they ground against each other on the dance floor. He moved his lips in a searing path down her jaw line and to her neck and her French whispers of more and how much she liked that intertwined with the music in Remy's ear. She had been saying dirty things in teasing all night long, but it was "Léchez mon clito" that really got his attention. Especially since she had grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his face down to her level so she could make sure he heard her. He quickly made his exit with her after that and they barely made it to her flat with all of their clothes on. They spent the rest of the night in her bed, the girl scoring his back with her nails and leaving bite marks on his shoulder.

It was about half past five in the morning when Remy came home to his own apartment, orange rays of early sun spilling in through the windows. He threw his keys down on the end table and passed a hand over his face. He rotated his neck a few times and finished with a groan of slight satisfaction. His eyes then alertly shot over to the couch where a woman was sitting. She had auburn hair kept in a high, wavy ponytail that let shorter white bangs fall to frame her face. There was a slight pink tinge to her cheeks and her green eyes seemed to pierce right through him with their intensity. Her shapely body was dressed in a black turtleneck and black ironed jeans with black high heel boots on her feet. Rogue.

"What de hell are you doin' here?" Despite not having used it in a long time, English came back to him like riding a bike, so there was no mistaking his tone as unfriendly.

"Ah-Ah came ta see ya." Rogue stuttered, now standing and her gloved fingers playing with each other in anxiety. Obviously, she was not expecting the kind of welcome he was giving her.

"Who let you in here?"

"No one. Ah sorta…broke in. Ah've been waitin' all night for ya ta come in" A sheepish half-smile curved her lips slightly, as if he should be proud of her or something.

But he wasn't. Not by a long shot. If anything, he was offended that Rogue of all people had been able to get in. He made a mental note to change all the locks and buy a stronger grade. Maybe he could con his way into getting some Adamantium ones. He sighed in annoyance and put a hand through his hair. "Why are you here, Rogue?"

"Like Ah said, Ah came ta see ya." He could see annoyance at his annoyance with her flicker underneath her carefully composed mask of supplication. He was going to break that mask.

"No, dat's not what I asked. Why, why did you come t' see me?" Remy paced for a few seconds before stopping and returning his attention to Rogue. "I mean, ya drop in here, after what? four years? Ya don't just drop in on someone dat ya haven't seen in four years just because ya feel like it."

Her face flushed briefly, brows drew together and her mouth dropped open. All the signs that Rogue was about to let her temper fly. She stopped herself however, and schooled her face back into a semblance of calm. "Ah wanted ta say…that Ah'm sorry for everythin' Ah've done ta ya. Ah never—"

"Oh, so dat's it. Ya followed me all de way here t' clear yo' conscience. T' make yo'self feel better fo' leavin' me—"

"No! No, it's wasn't me!" She interrupted him, almost pleading. "That's another reason Ah came here. My mind, it was a mess that day. Ah couldn't tell what was from me and what was from you. But Ah know now that Ah wouldn't want anyone ta go through what ya been through."

Remy smirked and shook his head. Was that how she reconciled things with herself? "You blamin' it on me, eh?" He shook his head again, not believing the sheer amount of denial in her statement and the smirk dropped off his face. "It was you Rogue. It was all you. You can tell yo'self dat it was my psyche or dat I hated myself or whatever all ya want. Fact is, I would never want t' put myself through dat kind of hell, even if I was suicidal. I t'ink it's time you finally dealt with dat."

"Ah've been lookin' for ya for three months Remy. The last time ya used your powers was in Argentina. Ah had ta use good ol' fashioned detective work the rest of the way. Doesn't that speak ta anythin' about how sorry Ah am for what Ah put ya through?"

"No!" Remy shouted. "I loved you Rogue! Know how many other women I've said dat to and actually, truly, meant it? None! Except fo' you. And what do you do? You royally fuck me over and leave me t' freeze and starve t' death. Do you know what it's like to feel yo' body eatin' itself? Do ya know what it's like t' discuss gettin' parts of yo' body lopped off with a doctor? Gettin' pre-fitted fo' prosthetics? It ain't pleasant. Only by some miracle did dat not happen. So you put me through all of dat and den come here four years later and don't even own up to it! Tell me, why shouldn't I throw you right out of dat window right now? 'Cause I ain't got no qualms 'bout doin' it if yo' just gonna get right back up and fly away."

Rogue stood there, hands fallen to her sides, looking horror stricken with her mouth hanging open slightly agape.

"What? You t'ink I built myself an igloo and hunted penguins? Dere was no food Rogue. No food. No shelter. My fingers were too frozen t' do anyt'in' by de time I realized you weren't comin' back and was really gonna leave me t' die. If it weren't fo' some miracle, ya would have found me in Antarctica—dead, under three feet of snow and ice."

"Remy—" There were unshed tears in her eyes and she made to step towards him but his smoldering look of contempt for her made her think better. "Remy, Ah just—can't there just be peace between us?"

So that was what she was after. She was tired of being alone and wanted him back. Maybe she really did realize what she had done to him and honestly wanted reconciliation. Remy wasn't going to give it to her. It wasn't out of contempt or spite or even some sense of revenge. It was that he couldn't. Rogue had broken him; taken his ability to trust and love and left it to freeze on the plains of the southern ice cap.

"No." He whispered. Louder, "If I gave you dat, you would forget what you did and I t'ink it's time ya learned some consequences befo' ya really go and kill someone over yo' emotional hissy-fits. You can't take death back, chere. Better learn dat before it happens." He turned his back towards her and began walking away, headed for his bedroom. He stopped and said over his shoulder, a glowing eye looking back at her in warning, "I'm gonna go in my bedroom and when I come out five minutes from now, ya better be gone." With that, he disappeared from Rogue's sight into another part of the flat.

Rogue stood there, watching the space where he had been for a few moments before swallowing back tears forcefully. With a quivering sigh she turned on her heel and flew out of the window and out of Remy's life forever.