Author's note: thoughts are italicized and in bold (except when there is a telepathic discussion, the main character at that moment will be the only one with their thoughts in bold, this way it'll make the discussion clearer- let me know if this helps). I appreciate all of your reviews and can only ask for you to continue (actually can any of you tell me if Remy has a middle name and if Remy is short for something?). If ya'll have any comments or thoughts on ideas for this story or any other you want me to write just let me know! I'll gladly take it into consideration. Also I hope that the length of this chapter is more to ya'll's liking, as it is to mine.

Disclaimer's notice: none of these characters belong to me (cause then I'd be rich) they belong to marvel, etc. However the story line is mine. (And thanx to all those Gambit dedicated sites out there, they are the ones that I'm relying on for correct Remy information.)

Conflicts

By: Dark Elf

It had been a routine safety practice, but Rogue was worn out. Jean came out of the danger room looking pristine and perfect. Every red hair on her head was in place and she was walking as if nothing had been going on for the past hour. The only sign that she had just come out from a grueling work out were her slightly flushed cheeks. Rogue glanced at Jean and couldn't help sighing inwardly. Looking at her own sticky sweat covered body she came to the conclusion, for the hundredth time that day, that life was unfair.

It wasn't fair that she had to live with her curse. It wasn't right that everyone else was able to actually consider their mutation a gift. It wasn't fair that girls like Jean Grey were not only popular, pretty, smart, and talented, but actually were what they seemed to be. Rogue hated the fact that Jean never did anything to give her a definite reason to dislike her. Somehow, no matter how annoyed Rogue became with Jean, she always knew it truly wasn't Jean's fault, but her own inability to deal with her problems. Jean was always so kind and helpful, even when Rogue was being rude, that sometimes she just wanted to scream.

It wasn't fair that people pitied her and it wasn't fair that since she'd been at the institute Rogue had not improved a bit on her dangerous condition. She always hid her feelings as best as she could, but a scowl on her face accompanied with angry comments usually gave her away. Rogue cringed, it wasn't her fault, it was just that she was so tired of listening to voices in her head that weren't hers and always trying to keep them safely locked in the deep recesses of her mind. She was tired of the daily struggle to keep sane and she was painfully tired of the fact that she could not touch.

It tore her heart into tiny crushed pieces every time she realized that while the people around her could still have physical contact with each other, she would always be alone. It might come across as a base or selfish want, but Rogue felt that she needed to be able to express her feelings physically sometimes, without being afraid that she would kill someone. She wanted to be able to feel skin – to hold someone's hand, to have a first kiss that didn't put anyone in a coma. She wanted to hug her friends and not need to be covered head to toe in drabs of clothing. She yearned inside to be free of her incapacity to live a normal life. She prayed and hoped endlessly to be released from the natural prison that was her body. Rogue never doubted that she loved herself, but she didn't know how much longer she could affably live with herself. The thought of never knowing what everyone else took for granted ate her slowly up inside. She was already forgetting how it used to feel to touch someone else, in her mind that time was gone, it was a memory that did not seem could ever have existed. Those few years before her mutation had developed, those few years of freedom seemed like a dream, slowly becoming lost in the expansive haze of her mind. She cursed herself inwardly knowing that she should grasp with all her might those long-forgotten memories. Yet, lately she just felt like letting go and falling down into the empty void in her mind that kept tugging at her psyche. Everyday was a constant fight for her to get up in the mornings, mainly because she didn't have a reason to.

It wasn't fair and she sometimes wondered why she even bothered. She couldn't possibly live at the institute forever, but she knew she couldn't have anything close to a healthy normal life outside of those iron gates. Rogue sadistically thought she should just go ahead and become a recluse, because she really didn't see any other choice for her.

The physical and emotional strain put on her day after day just seemed too much as of late. She hadn't mentioned to Professor Xavier that the shadows* trapped within her were getting louder every single passing moment. She could feel herself slipping a little more everyday, but she'd be damned if she let the X-men know that she was almost to her breaking point. They already knew that she had no control over her mutation and she wasn't about to let any of them know she barely had control of her mind.

She could already hear the voices laughing at her in her head. They thought she was a fool to fight them without any help and she knew she was. However, it was the only thing she felt she had any hold on in life, and it was her personal goal to continue holding the voices down as long as she could, all by herself. It was her mind and thus, her responsibility. If any of the X-men found out, they might excuse her stubbornness as a sad case of pride, but the truth was that if she didn't so this herself now, she knew she would never be able to in the future.

Rogue lethargically walked across the hard metallic floor to the elevator. She slowly brushed her hands over her uniform, pausing over the X emblem. She couldn't help a small pained grin, she was part of a team, and maybe in the end that was all that mattered. Her smile faded as she came to the realization that she could never repay the kindness bestowed upon her. She had nothing to contribute to the x-men and she never would. Rogue couldn't help wondering why Xavier wanted her. She obviously had nothing he needed and she hurt to think of the possibility that he only had her there to make sure she didn't use her 'gift' the wrong way. She feared that in the end the family she had at the mansion was truly only there to regulate her because they feared what she might do if her judgement became as muddled as her mind.

Aw Gawd, what if ah am simply hea'h so ah won't interfere wit' their dream?

The shadowed voices of doubt rose stronger in her mind as they whispered what she dreaded.

They don't really want you Rogue... not you, you are just a burden... a burden... why would they want a freak like you... you can't even fight without borrowed powers... you were meant to hurt people Rogue... not help... no not you... you stupid, stupid girl...

Shud up! Yah don' know me! Leave me the hell alone...Shud up! Shud up!

Oh, but we do know you Rogue, we are you Rogue, or now we are since you raped those minds whom we used to belong to...you little bitch, you don't deserve...

Leave me alone! Get out! Get out! Get out! get out...Gawd, just stay the hell quiet!...its not true, its not true...

Rogue always ended up turning that idea over and over in her head. It always went the same, she seemed to be endlessly arguing against herself, or against the shadows...but shit if she knew any longer what the difference was. She tried with all her strength to quiet them but she didn't have the energy anymore to fight them. The thought always managed to penetrate her mind when she was depressed. She finally managed to sweep the thought away, not wanting to consider it any longer. Just as suddenly as it had appeared it was gone.

Jean glided by in all her perfect splendor, slightly flipping her hair over her shoulder, portraying the air of a beauty queen. Rogue couldn't help hissing at her silently.

It's so naht fai'h! Damn silly princess o'er there is a'ways so perfect!

The thought was sent with such vehemence that Jean unconsciously caught it. She turned around.

"Rogue, I-"

Rogue didn't give Jean the time to finish her sentence. Her emerald green eyes flashing with anger.

"Well it's naht fai'h and yah know it!" She continued yelling. "And why don' yah jus' stay the hell outta my head!"

Rogue was on a roll. She seemed possessed, it felt good to give all of her thoughts a vent, she would have gladly continued her verbal abuse of Jean had not Logan and Xavier stepped out into the hallway from the control room.

"Rogue, darlin', is everything all right?" Wolverine asked concerned.

Rogue let out an exasperated sigh.

Great, naw ah have an audience.

Seeing as she was next to the elevator, she pushed the button, ignoring the looks from those around her. She couldn't help rolling her eyes as she got in.

"Rogue?" Logan asked.

"Yea, yea, whateve', ah'm fine, jus' thinkin' out loud was all..."

The elevator doors closed.

* * *

Remy's eyes glowed slightly as he watched the institute for the gifted in Westchester, New York from afar. He was positioned across the street in an empty apartment. From there he had a vast view of the front and left side of the building. He would occasionally move and walk outside or on the roof to get views of the right side and back. He had set up there, his professional gear littering the floor. He was usually neat and lived simply, so as to be ready to get up and leave when necessary, but he had been inspecting his equipment and didn't feel like putting them away just at the moment. Plus, he still had to decide which ones to use because it was never good to be overburdened while thieving, it always made it easier for the unsuspecting party to catch you.

Remy had never been careless and he didn't plan to start now. Sometimes he didn't know why he bothered, by now, due to years of experience, he had the routine scouting job he always did before a mission down perfectly. He knew the layout of the building, the number, names, strengths and weaknesses of each inhabitant, and the type of security the mansion employed. Remy looked at his watch, he'd have to sit and observe the institute for another day to make sure all the information he had acquired was correct to the last detail. It always was though, and he again wondered why he bothered.

* * *

Ororo stared lovingly out her window at the mansion grounds. She had just finished pampering her plants in her attic bedroom and was considering about asking Xavier to let her build a greenhouse outside. She enjoyed the peaceful solitude and found great comfort in her plants, a comfort she had rarely ever felt. Nature and plants made her feel loved and cared for. They needed her and she loved them for that. They could appreciate her gift to its full extent the way no one else could. She gave them life and in turn she felt the same joy a mother did. To the members of the institute who didn't know her well, it might seem like she went to her plants as an excuse to be alone. The truth was she went to them for the true intimate company they provided her with and she depended on. Everyday she would talk to them as if they understood her and pamper them. She told them how her day was, her hopes, fears, and whispered secrets to them that no one else knew. They were her children and friends, and she could only remember feeling that same love a long time before.

Everything was going so well lately that Storm was worried. She felt growing feelings of unrest and sometimes while she was thinking about how glad she was, a sense of fear would clutch her. It would wound around her heart, tighter and tighter, until she couldn't ignore it. Life was never peaceful for people like her and she explained the feeling as an automatic instinct that she had developed over the years. Being a mutant and residing at the institute never left much time for peace and quiet, and whenever there was any, it was broken as soon as it formed. Ororo shook her head, she shouldn't be worrying right now, she should be enjoying the time she had. It wasn't right that she had formed this uneasiness, tendencies like that were hard to grow out of. No matter how rational she was being, the feeling wouldn't leave. It continued to remind her of the quiet before a storm.

Storm slowly let out a sad sigh as she continued to watch the world outside her window. It was true that she was glad to be living in the institute with the X-men, but she couldn't help longingly remembering her past. She would recall glimpses of a harder but happier time long ago. A time when growing up was hard without help. A time she had made a friend, who became like a brother. Once upon a time she remembered, and now as she gazed out into the beautiful earth before her, she wondered what had become of that old-soul. That angelic boy with the demon eyes.

* * *

He was almost finished. Just as Remy had predicted, all of his information was correct. There appeared to be no glitches in his plan and he was already thinking about taking care of his job the next night. Dr. Essex had given him an endless amount of time to accomplish his task to the utmost perfection. This one job would bring him a thousand steps closer to becoming free from Sinister's hold. He was not going to take any chances or risks to ruin this job. He already knew the residents were mutants, and that made his plan much harder to execute. Remy let out a small devilish grin, it made the job harder, of course, but not impossible. He was actually thinking that the challenge just might prove to be fun. Being the best thief in the world, it was hard for him to find work that provided him with any excitement anymore.

He had started stealing as a young boy living out on the New Orleans' streets. To survive he had become a pickpocket, using the powers his mutation gave him, and for a while he lived a reasonably well life, at least what could be considered well for a boy with no home. His chosen path eventually lead him to the attention of Jean Luc when he tried to pick the man's pocket. Recognizing his potential, he was taken under the master thief's wing and taught the skills and secrets of the legendary Thieves Guild of New Orleans. Remy had easily flourished in his art and had become the youngest thief to ever hold the reputation of being the top in the world. Remy winced inside as he continued to remember. His clan became the family he had never known, but because they were at war with the Asssasins Guild, Remy, to maintain peace among the clans, married Belladonna Boudreaux, the daughter of the chief of the Assassins Guild. But the peace didn't last as Bella's brother, Julien, challenged Remy to a duel. Julien didn't survive and Remy was exiled from New Orleans. Since then many things had happened, slowly forming him into the person he was now, the person he hated.

Remy no longer cared about the money he made, he was wealthy enough to live out the rest of his life without ever needing any more money. He simply continued because it gave him a high, a natural thrill in avoiding being caught. The feeling ran through his veins each time before he begun a job and it carried all the way through. For at least a little while, that tumult feeling would overcome his senses, and that empty spot inside him, which was probably his soul, ceased to haunt him. He would immerse himself whole-heartedly in it, just to try and fill up, if only for a second, the endless abyss inside him that plagued him day and night. Lately, however, the jobs he did, especially the ones for Sinister, were uneventful and simple. . Remy grimaced, he wished this job had not been forced onto him by Essex. He hated doing anything for that monster, but if he had to then he figured he'd make the best of it. There was no use in giving Sinister anymore satisfaction than he already had. He could feel that same anxiety that made him do what he did, rising in his nerves. He hadn't felt such a thrill or 'high' in a long time. Remy wanted, he needed, to do this job perfectly just to prove to himself that he could, along with paying off his 'debt'. He was not about to let this chance go by without doing the job with all the skills he possessed.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement in the shadows of the mansion's attic. A beautiful black woman with white flowing hair was gazing rapturously out at the view spread out below her. Her eyes actually seemed to be glazed over and a small trickle of rain appeared to be watering some plants at her command. She would occasionally raise a soft wind that would run through the leaves of the plants.

Remy caught his breath. His heart stopped the minute he saw her. A slow sinking feeling took the place of the excitement he had earlier been concentrating on.

Non, it couldn' be...

Using his equipment Remy took a closer look.

...dat girl from long ago...

He shook his head and gave a slight painful shrug. So there was a trivial glitch in his information, he'd just have to work around it. He allowed one last wistful glance to the woman at the window. Abandoning his last chance at happiness, Remy slipped out of his room into the darkness of the night, a quiet mournful whisper left in his place.

"Remy so sorry Petite..."

* * *

*Shadows: when I refer to these "shadows" I am talking about the essence of the people Rogue has absorbed. In a way they are integrated with her psyche so deeply that they will never truly dissipate. They are part of her, but at the same time seem to act on a will of their own. Also the more she has absorbed of a person the more 'freedom' they have in her mind. (In my story I have not yet decided how many people she has absorbed, but Cody and Scott, as on the evolution show, are definitely two of them and their maybe others in her past – seeing as there are more than one voice.)

Note: I am writing this story assuming that you, the reader, has background knowledge of the characters. Mainly I am not describing everyone's mutation or past unless it is necessary. (If you have any questions, let me know.) Also this will probably be a Rogue/Remy story unless I get enough reviews that request this not to be. However I am trying to keep as close to the comics and (new and old) t.v. show, as I can, while adding my own twist. Oooh, and one more thing... did you notice how both Rogue and Remy wondered "why they bothered?" in their narratives? That my friends was done on purpose and is not meant to be redundant (just in case any of you caught it and thought I had run out of ideas J ), it is there to show how in sync those two are. And for all those Remy lover's out there, more of his past will be revealed (can't say how or to whom...cause that would just spoil the story) and how he looks, including his signature eyes will be adequately described...but all that is yet to come...

Response to Reviews:

Hey when I edited chapter one all my reviews were deleted- I think... they didn't seem to be there after fanfic finished fixin' itself.... But I just wanted to thank all of you for the very nice things you wrote, I did get a chance to read them. Please continue reviewing. (oh and don't worry about rereading ch1, I just added a few sentences, nothing major changed.) J