Marvel owns the X-men, no profit is to be made by this work.
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Consciousness was a struggle, too many dreams filled full of faces that felt familiar but were all strangers to her, places that felt like home only to feel alien as she opened her eyes. The room was dark, just the wash of waves heard in the distance telling her that she was safe, the room full of the soothing scent of the ocean. Lolling her head down to the downy pillow and pulling the blanket closer, a waft of aromas had her snapping out of bed, bubblegum and cigarette smoke mingling together strongly.
The blanket was thrown free and tugging mysterious twines sought to tie her to the bed, easily snapped with a sudden sharp pain of plucked slivers or torn off bandaids. Her first faltering step nearly saw her fall, but as her eyes adjusted to the dark she saw their sleeping silhouettes, surging with renewed need to be near.
"Remy!" Marie croaked, her throat so dry it was little more than a whisper.
Tears were falling now seeing her friend in his arms, the little trouble maker looking just as he always called her, their tiny angel. Falling at the edge of the couch they slept on, she reached with a trembling hand to know she wasn't dreaming at that it was real, brushing at the ebon locks. She longed to trail a finger over his lips but settled for ghosting her hand past his cheek, her greedy and hungry skin unleashed and exposed.
From the hall she heard the light tread of steps, a breath bringing her the scent of lighter fluid and ash. There was a knock so quiet she wondered if she was imagining it, but as it came again she was able to place the tune, Shave and a Hair Cut. Reluctantly she got up from her place, drawing her feeble gown about her like a shield, cracking the door open just enough to see just who she thought was there, St. John Allerdyce. His breath caught in his throat as their eyes met, but in them there was a sense of relief she could easily read. Whatever he was going to say died on his lips, his eyes looking past the door to that couch that Remy and Jubilee slept on.
"There's clothes in the dresser, you gotta be hungry, I'll go raid the fridge." John whispered in barely more than a breath.
The door was drawn shut against her unprotesting hands, the sound of his quiet tread heading down the hall until he came to the stairs where his pace quickened. Leaning against the door for support and looking about the room, it was no place she had ever been yet all it took was a breath to let her know who had been here. Marking it of course were Remy and Jubilee's own unique scents, another filled with the threat of the storm to come equally mingled with the promise of a gentle shower.
Tip toeing up to her bed, it was a lavish four poster affair straight out of some Victorian romance movie, dotted with an array of medical gear and a toppled IV drip. Rubbing her hands, she could see where the tape had once held the needle in her hand, the phantom sting still there. Something about it all repulsed her, clenching her fists tight and wanting to lash out at it all until it was just a trashed mess.
"I'm going to count to three...and you're going to move the coin." Marie whispered, a fresh wave of terror clenching her stomach tight.
With one last glance to the pair slumbering away on the couch she walked off to a door that promised a hot and steamy blast of water, the lather of soap and the illusion of washing all the filth that had soiled her down the drain. It was only as she noticed the wash of crimson fluttering in the water one drop at a time that she realized some of the filth she wanted to scrub clean had gotten beneath her skin, silent tears joining it then as she scrubbed away just the same.
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The house was coming alive in the wee hours of the morning, just as they had on another night such as this. Doors were quietly opened and feet joined his own heading for the kitchen. As the first one there, John got the coffee brewing and threw a kettle on the stove to boil, rummaging through the fridge for a slice of pizza and picking off the pineapple someone just had to have. Leaning against the counter, he was mulling over turkey or roast beef sandwiches for Rogue when a head peeked around the threshold.
"She's awake?" Lorna asked quietly, seemingly holding her breath.
Giving a nod and a tilt of admittance, John watched both her and Bobby walk on into the kitchen looking utterly nervous. Staring at them in just his pyjama bottoms, he wondered how they could both be sporting thick house robes but put it down to the Iceman himself staying frosty. If it wasn't for the central air he'd be dying of the heat himself, a great irony considering his own mutation.
"Do they...?" Bobby asked, tugging Lorna closer to him.
"I got the feeling they're still asleep." John admitted.
"Is she...?" Lorna asked.
John shrugged at the unspoken question, whether Rogue was alright only time would tell, at least she had friends to help her through whatever was ahead. Setting to task, he started raiding the fridge for a hearty meal for the famished girl. Flinching out of habit at the sight of cabinets and cutlery handled by unseen hands, a look to the door had no sign of Miss Grey about to lecture him again. Sure enough there was Lorna now at the cutting board slicing up the bread and tossing it into the toaster, Bobby nearby at the sink lightly frosting the faucet so only icy cold water filled the pitcher.
Setting down his plunder, from the corner of his eye John caught how Bobby teased with that shock of white hair that now painted Lorna's verdant tresses. Distracted as they were, once the toast popped John snatched it up and hastily buttered it. Turkey, slicked pickles, slices of tomatoes were layered on, a dash of mustard and onions on the side if she was so inclined. A rummage of the cabinets scored him a pudding and a fruit cup for dessert.
"You two coming?" John called over his shoulder, already heading off with a plate and glass of water.
Sharing a look, Lorna lead the way with Bobby at her heels, rushing up the stairs as quietly as they could in their bare feet. Hearing the sound of the shower from the hall, he waited with his friends off at a window that gave a view of the Pacific and the miles of sand that bordered the big blue bathed in moonlight.
"Drake?" John whispered, holding up the glass.
Bobby took it with a wink and a nod, frost overtaking it as it stayed frigid and cold. Sitting there with the plate in his lap and fighting the urge to toy with his lighter, he saw he wasn't alone in being nervous as Lorna threaded a quarter through her fingers without ever touching a knuckle. Glances were had to the grandfather clock in the hall, the seconds shaved with the swaying of the pendulum, five minutes at first, then ten, nearly twenty as the bell tolled thrice in the early morn.
"I'm gonna check on her..." Lorna whispered.
Fear gnawing at their stomachs, they tread to the door together when the handle jiggled and turned. Standing frozen, the door opened to reveal the darkened room with none there to greet them but the quiet click of another down the hall.
"I guess Miss Grey's on board with that." Bobby whispered after finding his voice.
The french doors to the balcony were open to the night, a breeze fluttering the drapes, the aroma of cigarette smoke mingling with the tang of salt. Setting the plate and glass down, John headed off to the balcony with Bobby at his back, Lorna left to tip toe up to the en suite bathroom door and give a light knock. From his place at the balcony John watched Lorna vanish past the threshold in a billow of steam and light. Looking down to the man who sat with his feet kicked up on the railing, Remy greeted them both with a finger raised to his lips begging for silence. The reason was clear, bundled up as she was in a blanket and cradled in his arms, the still slumbering Jubilee.
Standing there and searching for words, all it took was a look into those red on black eyes of Remys to know he needn't say a thing, finding an empty chair and collapsing into it. Snapping his lighter open and staring at the flame, he lost himself to the soothing dance that smoothed over his frayed nerves. A click of the door had him looking past the drapes, only then noticing Bobby had excused himself.
"Homme going to go get something for us to munch on, get the ladies some of that coffee you put on. Could use a nice scotch m'self, but alas, I be a guest non?" Remy whispered with a look across the distance between them, his one hand gently stroking Jubilee's hair.
"She...sleep well?" John asked with a nod to the slumbering one.
"Oui, no nightmares tonight. There be something soothing about the waves. " Remy's answer came with a smile hiding his pain, giving a nod just the same.
Sitting there then, John gave a glance to the ocean that stretched on to the horizon where it met the heavens above. Breathing deep that novel scent, he snapped his lighter shut and set it down on the arm of his chair.
"Yeah, something to it..." John admitted, feeling a sense of peace fill him he hadn't known for so very long that it was a welcome stranger to life.
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She could see the silhouette just beyond the tempered glass door, knew who it was without needing to see the verdant hair. The shower still ran hot, the air humid and heavy, sitting with the cold tiles to her back and beneath her bottom huddled up into a corner as she was. Marie watched Lorna climb up upon the vanity in a cross-legged rest, made no attempt for a long time to say anything until finally the silence between them was just too much a burden to bear.
"Hi..." Lorna began.
Sitting there, it all seemed an awful and fantastic nightmare to her, everything since that moment when her perfect day had ended so horribly. A day of getting to know just how the other half lived, getting to know Cynthia and shopping with Remy on Rodeo Drive as he tormented Jubilee. A night of eating fancy pizza and wearing designer jeans she could only have dreamed of back in Mississippi. Ending in knowing monsters were real, and that big bad wolves did come knocking at doors. With a trembling hand Marie reached up to crank the taps shut, just the drip of water running down the drain joining her own hammering heart that thundered in her ears.
"Just tell me it's over..." Marie whispered, resting her chin upon her knees and welcoming the sudden chill.
The door to the bath opened by unseen hands, the hazy image of Lorna seen slipping from the vanity and out into the darkness for but a moment. With the click of the latch the small bath became a world of two, everything beyond that door something she could forget just for the moment. A rapping came at the glass, begging her permission. Opening it just a crack, the steam billowed out and a cool breeze invaded her retreat. Yet a plate was set down on the tile followed by a glass of water damp as grass kissed by the morning dew.
"John made you a sandwich, hope you like turkey." Lorna whispered, her hand reaching to close the shower door only to find it blocked.
Nearly breaking down in a fresh wave of tears that were welcome just then, Marie opened up her sandwich and added the onions to it and devoured it. The water was guzzled, the glass filled once more almost as soon as it was set down, the vanity faucet crying in protest as it was run until cold. Parched and hungry no more, the sweet treats were ignored as she sat there willing the strength to leave her tiny cell of glass and tile.
"We're back." Marie said without any uncertainty in her voice, all it took was that first breath and the distant crash of waves to tell her.
"You could tell?" Lorna asked, a hint of shock painting her voice and joining her scent.
Finding out her legs just weren't for show, she stood and pressed a hand to the glass while reaching out with a questing one for the robe she remembered seeing there on a hook. The ghostly visage of Lorna once again slipped from her place upon the vanity, reaching for it and offering it up. Wrapped up in the warmth of the terrycloth that offered her a sense of safety, her greedy skin hidden beneath the pale white fabric, she peeked a head out to greet her fellow joined in cursed fates.
For everything she could tell with a breath, hear in the beating of a heart, she couldn't have known just how entwined their fates had become until she looked at her and saw herself in the mirror. At the gasped breath Lorna reached up to toy with the shock of white hair that now ran from her emerald locks, Marie joining her in running a finger down her own.
"Your guess is as good as mine." Lorna laughed, pained but still finding the humour in life's dark comedy.
"You're okay?" Marie asked quietly, slipping out of the shower to find a seat on the toilet fit to be a throne.
"I'll get there..." Lorna replied, her eyes clenched tight against the tears that clouded her vision.
Guilt that was not her own ate away at her belly and threatened to have her pray to an idol made of porcelain that was an altar the drunk or self loathing fell prostrate to. Foggy memories rose up full of misguided purpose. Clenching her teeth until she feared they might shatter, she forced it all back down with the nightmares she had suffered. Words struggled for release at her lips, but they were an apology that was meaningless from her.
"If you're going my way..." Marie said softly, looking up from her knees.
Eyes of green met reflecting different hardships, pains and all the suffering they had known. But in the darkest depths they both clung to hope they had found at last, offered in otherwise simple gestures that might be meaningless to some but to them held such importance. Able to smile once more, the tears that fell were welcome, the sniffles they shared making both feel foolish as they heard themselves.
"If ya ever need..." They began in unison, going quiet for a moment until a laugh was shared.
"Can ya get me somethin' ta wear, few folks I need to see." Marie said with an honest smile that filled her eyes and felt welcome as it tugged upon her lips.
"Sure thing." Lorna replied, coming in for a careful hug before taking her leave.
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Her promise not to cry again was broken when she saw him sitting there out on the balcony with that fateful friend who had brought them together. That friend who had been there just when she needed one, those what ifs still a dark place she dared not explore. Resting at his side and tracing her opera glove clad fingers across his lips, he smiled at her touch and she placed a kiss to those same fingers before pressing them to his cheek.
"Bon Nuit." Remy whispered.
"Good mornin' sugah." Marie replied, blinking away the tears to clear her vision.
Closing her eyes and breathing deep the ocean breeze, it was everything she remembered it was when she first stumbled out onto a beach just like the one below them. A ribbon of sand standing between all of America and the vast Pacific, she'd drawn a line in it even before arriving, stay and fight or keep running. Never had she expected to find something, someone worth fighting for, nor had she expected to find that someone to love. Drawn from her musings by the gentlest of touches, she found her hand taken in his, shivering as his thumb rubbed her silk covered knuckles.
"She's safe..." Marie whispered, breath hard to come by as her stomach tightened.
"We keep our promise, non?" Remy asked, teasing that shock of white streaking her blonde speckled auburn hair.
"We did." Marie said softly.
Different promises they may be, they'd been made to a friend they shared and treasured, to keep an eye on the one nearest them now. Breathing deep and burying her face in the welcome crook of his shoulder, she just wanted to return to those joyful days of exploring a city so new to her with the slumbering scamp.
"It's over, I promise you that." Remy said softly with his breath falling light upon her ear.
With a hiccup and a choked laugh she took him at his word, having seen just how far he'd go to keep his promises. Somehow he'd make it work, be there to brush away the tears that came.
"How about we start fresh, Marie D'Acanto..." Marie whispered in the nearness.
"Remy LeBeau, a pleasure." Remy replied in little more than a breath that was savoured slowly.
"Ya still owe me a date mister." Marie said with a giggle lacing her voice, all those promises remembered.
His answer was a hovered kiss to her head, to her hand, and a smile just as devilish as his red on black eyes. In welcome quiet they waited out the dawn, the night sky falling beneath the waves driven on by the cloudy blue that overtook the land. It was a new day for them all, the long night over, nothing left but bad dreams to wake from.
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