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Chapter 7: The real chance.

"Dream is destiny".

Waking Life.

"…You regain consciousness of your body…"

"…Ah'll miss yah…"

"…You mean, making out with?…"

"…Swamp Rat! WAKE UP!"

"Kit?"

"No buts."

"…but dis be ridiculous…"

"Remy?"

"…you leave the subconscious world…"

"Remy loves y'".

She opened her eyes to the metallic room, feeling she was just coming from thousands of miles away. Her limbs felt heavy, like attached to the chair with an invisible force.

"How do you feel?" Jean greeted her, her usual smile on her face.

Rogue stared at her with bewildered wide open eyes, but then seemed to put herself together:

"Fine" she nodded repeatedly: "A little… tired?"

"Don't worry about that, it should be gone in few minutes. Right, Professor?"

The leader of the X-Men seemed to agree with Jean:

"Indeed. Rogue, we have at last been able to erase the, let us say, compartment of your mind, where the psyches sheltered." Rogue straightened up and let her feet touch the ground again: "In other words, with no place for them to stay, you will be able to use your gift to borrow powers and read information or memories, but they will only stay with you for a short period of time."

"Not even half an hour, really" Jean pointed out. They both seemed to be really proud of their work. Which was great, of course; Rogue was glad to finally have gotten rid of annoying presences in her head and all that stuff.

"That's… good, Ah can't… thank yah both enough for this" she stood up and headed to the door all of a sudden.

"Wait!" Jean tried to stop her: "We still have something to talk about your power, it's…"

"Tonight, 'kay? Please? Ah gotta go get fresh air or somethin'" and saying this, she left the two telepaths alone.

The redhead sighed and placed her recently acquired eyeglasses on a shelf:

"I would have thought she'd react differently to this."

"Give her some time, Jean" the Professor explained: "The levels of her mind are still adjusting to their new disposition. I really am not worried at all. She will be just fine."

"Yes, but it's a shame she missed the part about her being able to control her power now!" Jean rolled her eyes jokingly.

The Professor wheeled himself out of the room, but before crossing the door, he added:

"We will tell her tonight."

(…)

Her hands felt a little cold even inside the pockets of her brown jacket. She had no specific destination, but it didn't matter. She continued walking down the street, passing people by and not paying attention to stores or names of street, because it calmed her down. It always gave her this sense of perfect anonymity, to walk down the city and to be just another dot filled with troubles and good things and bad things and thoughts and emotions that no one around could see. People walking down the street are just that: worlds of different states of crazy, behind random faces.

The heaviness she had felt when she woke up, was now gone and replaced by some sort of head lightness: like she had just taken a huge burden off her shoulders. Of course, it made sense: her brain had been the hostel of dozens of people for, what, was it ten years then? And now they were all swept off, just like that, with some telepathic waves and pretty words from Jean.

It didn't feel… bad. It felt… yeah, calming.

And it caught her eye like it was part of her own thoughts and not part of reality: a huge roller coaster, bright colors, blue cotton candy. They passed her by like an exhalation. It took her a couple of seconds to comprehend that it was a publicity banner on the side of a bus, announcing a new amusement park. It slowed down, the bus stop was right there, few steps away.

So she got on.

Maybe they'd messed up with some extra screws up in her head, because she herself had no clue on why she did this. Of course she wasn't really going anywhere and getting on the bus could be the same as just walking. So, again, it didn't matter. She found a spot besides a window and started seeing cars pass by and people in them, going somewhere, living their lives.

There was something. Behind the glass of a shop. So without thinking it twice, she got off the bus in the next stop and hurried her way towards it.

The river, bridges, the Eiffel Tower. And if you don't miss this special offer, you also get free daily breakfast. The images appeared and disappeared quickly, of people having a picnic in one of those green gardens, two glasses of wine and baguettes. Girls shopping, carrousels. The travel agency's screen continued to play the same one minute commercial over and over again, and Rogue stared at it at least five times.

Paris. She had always wanted to go there.

The buildings were lower in this part of the city. There was more open space, wider avenues and big, round fountains in large squares. The green of grass and trees became more present with each step, until Rogue found herself in a park. Some people watched and cheered, while the game was 5 to 3.

She didn't specifically like baseball, but still, she decided to stay for a while. A very tall kid was about to bat. The pitcher was ready, he threw the ball and next thing Rogue knew, her right ankle felt like hit by the fires of hell.

"Oh my God!"

"I'm so sorry…"

"Are you okay?"

"Well done, Fred…"

"It's still a fault, right?"

She'd had to hold on to a tree not to fall.

"Yeah," she mumbled through her teeth, still absorbing the pain: "Ah'm great, thanks."

"Maybe we should get you some medicine…" suggested a man who seemed to be one of the teams' coach.

"No need for dat, homme, I'll take care of it."

"Yah'll take care of…?"

Rogue swallowed her words, because disbelief didn't let her talk. It was that smug guy again.

"Come on, cherie, hold on to my arm."

"Wha…? No!" she puffed, trying to place her foot on the ground, and failing because of the stabbing pain: "Ah'll just sit here for a while."

"No way, y're comin' with me."

"Nah!"

"You guys are together?"

"Of course! She just a little bit mad at me 'cause some silly argument we had dis mornin'…"

"That's not true!" Rogue complained.

"So y're not mad at me anymore, cherie?" he held her gloved hand between his, a "poor me" expression on his face.

"Yah're… unbelievable" she snapped her hand away.

"Hey guys, if she's okay we should continue the game."

"Yeah, you're losing anyway!"

"Sorry again, miss."

Everyone left, leaving Rogue still holding on to the tree and Remy by her side.

"So, are we good now?" he smirked, leaning against the tree and coming even closer to her.

"Listen, Gambit, Ah'm not in the mood right now", she tried one more to support herself on the messed up foot. Impossible.

"I see dat" he conceded: "Allons, I'll give y' a ride."

"On what?"

"On my bike, it's right dere."

She met his eyes again. It was still clear crystal in her mind the day she absorbed his memories and immediately tried to put them, to put him away, sending him to that place that was now gone. And then the other night, when she realized he was right: he wasn't trying to steal anything or to betray anybody. It wouldn't hurt, right? (At least not more than her ankle did).

"Ah'm gonna regret this" she sighed, finally holding on to his arm.

"Y' won't" they started walking. Or at least he did, as she was just giving short leaps in one foot.

"Remy could carry y', y' know?"

"Nah, thanks, let's just keep it this way, Ah'm 'kay." The pain got deeper and deeper, but she wouldn't accept it in front of him: "What yah doin' 'round here, anyway?"

"Ahh, y' interested?"

"No," could he ever say anything at all that didn't sound like a total flirt?: "Ah'm just tryin' to make the situation less awkward."

"Dis ain't awkward for me, chère! But… y' want me t' tell y' a secret? Dat is, without y' absorbing my mind?" She'd have expected to see some sarcasm in his eyes, or to hear some bitterness in his voice, when he said this. Because it can't be nice to have someone knock you out, out of the blue, and on top of that, this person being able to read you like an open book. But no: he now talked about it like he didn't mind.

So she bit her lip and decided not to keep digging into that: "What is it?"

"Bien, I saw y' hypnotized few blocks away from here, in front of this travel agency place, an' I followed y'."

She raised her brows: "Really? Just like that?"

"Just like dat," he nodded.

"That isn't creepy at all, yah know?"

"Hey, at least I'm bein' honest 'bout it! 'Sides, seems I appeared right on time, right?"

They had reached the bike now. A cool but soft breeze brought some strands of her hair to her face, making her see through white and auburn. She had already accepted the ride, so there was no point in continuing worrying or pondering every single one of her moves. Besides, she just wanted to get home: her foot was killing her.

"Rrrrrrright. Ah guess."

(…)

She dreamt of red on black eyes and of traveling on a bike down a highway, her arms wrapped around someone. It wasn't an alternate reality going on in her head. It was just a dream, images projected inside the mind, created by the mind itself, triggered by random or specific aspects of the day.

In the dream, she couldn't see his face.

But she was sure she knew him.

End.

Note: All right! This is it. As you guys can see, I first published this story exactly five years ago. How wild is that? It makes me feel so weird, but at the same time, glad that I could write it and finish it. It also makes me think of these past five years of my life, you know? When I first planned the story five years ago, I had on mind all of this. It's so crazy to finally put it together after so long.

Anyway! What do you guys think of this finale? Thanks a lot for reading and have a great… May, week, day, everything