Black is the Color
By Alara
Chapter 9: Asphyxiation/Realization
They woke at dawn, sleepily smiling at each other. Remy rolled over and kissed her. "Yo' not upset?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Why should I be?"
He shrugged. "Isn't dat always how de story goes? Wild night, an' tears in de morning?"
She smiled, and kissed him back. "Not in our story, apparently. Quit your worrying."
"I jus' want t' make sure you're okay wit' dis."
"Sugar." She gave him a sarcastic look. "Remy. Shaddup. If I wanted to stop, I'd've drained you last night and knocked you out. Okay?" Her vision unfocused; Bess was speaking to her. She sighed, "Damn. Get some clothes on; Logan's coming."
As he scrambled out of bed, scooping up articles of clothing, he teased, "T'ought y' were okay wit' dis?"
"I am, but I don't know how okay with it Logan'll be. An' I don't want to see that body o' yours skewered just yet. I've got other plans for it." She gave him an arch look as she pulled her shirt over her head. "Now get. Bess says you can go out the window."
He flashed a quick grin, and she couldn't say for certain if it was Remy or Roarke. "I certainly can. See you at breakfast." He swung the window case open and deftly lowered himself outside; Rogue closed and re-locked the sturdy iron catch just as a knock came on her door.
"Stripes?"
"Yeah?"
"You alone in there?"
"Ye-e-es…" Well, now she was. Technically.
The relief in his voice was palpable. "Good. Well. I just wanted to make sure you were awake and, er, you. Breakfast's in ten minutes; I think the Prof, or whoever, is gonna be here soon."
"Be right down." She tied her shoes and tugged the bed into more-or-less neatness, then cautiously opened the door. Logan was nowhere in sight, but she heard him talking to Piotr. Her body tensed. Had Remy made it back to his room in time? But how could he have done?
"Morning, mon ami," she heard his voice clearly, though it sounded appropriately sleepy, as though he'd just been awakened. Which, of course, he had, but he sounded sleepy in his room, not hers. How had he gotten there so quickly?
"Out of bed, Gumbo," she heard Logan order gruffly, and relaxed: that was Logan's usual greeting for Remy, not his pissed-off one, and certainly not whatever his greeting would be if he learned they'd slept together. Well… She considered, and winced. Probably that one wouldn't involve too much conversation, and a lot more adamantium.
She shook her head, and turned for the stairs. By the time she got to the top landing, Remy was behind her. He kissed her gently on the side of the neck, hugging her. "Morning, cherie. Sleep well?" He asked all-too-innocently.
She laughed silently. "The best night I ever had." Her eyes gave him a different meaning than the simple words contained as she led him down the stairs.
"Mmm. Glad t' hear it. Hope it keeps up; y' haven't been sleepin' well in dis place." They reached the bottom of the stairs and headed for the kitchen, a thick wall between them and the rest of the house. "Wolverine probably can't hear us now." Remy said. "Y' meant it?"
"About my best night?" He nodded. She laughed. "Of course I did. How did you get back so quickly? Roarke never made it around the inn in less than five minutes, and it was barely three before Logan was at your door!"
He grinned smugly. "Well, Roarke never t'ought o' goin' over de roof, did he?"
She rolled her eyes. "I should've known."
Piotr strode in. "Known what?" he asked curiously.
Rogue reddened. "Nothing," she muttered, hurriedly turning to the coffeepot.
Piotr's eyes moved between her and Remy, who couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her.
A curiously gentle expression was on the Cajun's face, and Piotr wondered why it seemed familiar to him, and then it came to him: the same expression used to come across his father's face whenever he looked at his mother. His parents had loved one another deeply.
The Russian grinned, realizing where his roommate had been all night. "Ah. So, 'nothing' it was, then, which brought Remy to his bed just a moment before Logan asked for him, da?" Remy reddened, and started to say something, but Colossus waved him to silence. "No, no, comrade," he said, grinning. "Happy I am, for you both. May I be the first to offer congratulations?"
Rogue blushed again, and muttered something incoherent when Piotr enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug. "I just want to tell—well, everybody," she confessed in a whisper to him. "The whole world! Well, except Logan. And maybe Kurt. But I'm glad someone knows."
Remy slid an arm around her waist and kissed her. "I feel de same way. But speaking of Logan—"
Once again, Piotr waved him to silence. "Your secret—with me, it is safe." he assured them. "I shall not even tell Katja," he promised.
"T'anks, homme," Remy said fervently, and went to help Rogue with breakfast.
The rest of the team gathered quickly; a tense silence hung over the table, as the teens considered the seemingly impossible: that in less than an hour, they could very well be fighting for their lives against the Professor. (Except Amanda, of course, who had already agreed to stay in the inn, undefended as she was.)
The only ones who seemed to be unconcerned about the idea were Logan, of course, and Remy and Rogue, who were casting teasing, flirtatious looks at each other. Neither seemed to be able to keep from smiling.
Kurt frowned. This was extremely unlike his dour, standoffish sister, who only smiled this widely when Remy kissed her or something, as though she couldn't help the happy expression in response to his attention. But the kiss-resultant smiles usually lasted only a few moments before she remembered herself and resumed her Goth persona. What could possibly get her to smile continuously for above half an hour?
A sudden suspicion entered his mind. "Meine schwester," he called to her. She ignored him, busy giggling as Remy tickled her, his arms as far around her as they would go. "Rogue." He tried again. This time she jumped a bit, looking mildly surprised as she turned to him.
"Yes? I'm Bess right now, dear; Roarke and I almost can't help being, ah, 'in charge' today, and the more comfortable we are with these bodies, the better chance we have at beating Snythe."
"Oh. Well, nothing that can't wait," Kurt replied weakly, mentally sighing in relief as he finished the last of his breakfast. For a moment he'd thought—well. He'd forgotten the unusual effect Bess and Roarke were having on his sister and teammate. In any case, he was glad he wouldn't have to end their trip by murdering Remy. That would make things awkward.
Thanks for the save, Bess, Rogue said to the other girl in her mind.
The ghost laughed. Do you think I went to all the trouble of easing your chaperone's mind only to have your so-protective brother figure everything out?
Rogue chuckled. I suppose not. Still, helping me keep Remy alive another day is definitely appreciated. The longer time that goes by without anyone knowing, the better chance we have to break the news to them at the right time, without getting Remy killed.
Logan burst in the door, snow blowing around him. His entrance killed what little conversation there was. "Get ready, kids," he said grimly. "Professor X is here. And he's got that ghost smell on him."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
They assembled in the walled courtyard of the inn, fragments of snow dusting the worn surface. They heard the steady thrum of an engine, and then a creak as the brake was applied. The thrum stopped, and was replaced by a pair of feet and the squeak of a wheelchair crunching through the snow toward the inn.
The wheelchair rolled around the doorway cut into the tall wall, Old Robert just behind the Professor.
Xavier, for his part, had an overly solicitous look on his face as he wheeled toward them. He didn't seem to notice the team close ranks around him as he entered further into the courtyard. "Rogue? I hear your powers are giving you trouble again? Let's go inside, and we'll see if I can't help you with them."
Rogue stepped forward, a relieved expression on her face. "Professor X!" she exclaimed, as though it were difficult to speak. "Ah think I'm goin' –insane, here! Please help m-me." She stepped toward him, hands outstretched. The second before she made contact, she let Bess take over: the ghost was overwhelmingly powerful today, and ceding control was actually a relief.
"Yes, Professor X, your student has been having many problems lately," Bess' rich accent rolled out, sticking with their plan to keep Snythe ignorant of the true situation for as long as possible. The longer Snythe believed Rogue and Remy to be truly possessed, the longer he would maintain a 'Professor X' façade in front of the others. "But I assure you, those problems will be over shortly, as she will no longer be present."
Professor X's brow furrowed in concern. "Rogue?" he said tentatively, not quite touching her outstretched hands. "Tell me what you're feeling."
Logan frowned: this certainly sounded like Professor X. What if Roarke and Bess had it wrong and the professor wasn't possessed?
"Oh, Rogue won't be talking any more," Bess assured him airily. "It's Bess now, Bess Dawson."
"Rogue. You can't let someone's psyche take over your mind. You must fight! Come, let us go inside and I will help you. We will get this 'Bess' out of your mind." He looked around at the others, most of whom were also looking a bit uncertain. "When did she absorb this Bess person? And why? She has control now."
"We, like, totally don't know, Professor!" Kitty exclaimed. "As soon as we got stranded here at this inn, she started talking in this other accent and acting like she lived here and talking like it was, like, 200 years ago or something! It's really freaky, like something out of a movie."
"There's no one in the town named Bess, either, Chuck," Logan added. "I checked."
"Hmm." The Professor steepled his fingers in front of his face, thinking, then looked up at Bess/Rogue standing in front of him. "Why have you taken over Rogue?" he demanded.
"Because it's been so long," Bess sighed. "I simply couldn't resist. She was so easy to take, and is so easy to eliminate, piece by piece. Soon there won't be anything left, and we'll have our lives back!" She was clearly gloating.
"We?" The Professor leaned forward intently. "There's more than one of you in her mind?"
The girl laughed lightly as Logan made a shrugging movement, propelling Remy forward a few steps. "No, Chuck," he said. "Remy's been affected, too, probably because of his empathy."
Bess/Rogue turned as Roarke/Remy strode up to her and wrapped his arms around her, giving the Professor a defiant look. "My dear professor, may I introduce… Colin Roarke? He, too, will be joining me in this new chance at life."
If this doesn't enrage Snythe enough to show himself, nothing will. But he has to reach outside of the Professor! She continued, "In fact, he's further along than I. Your 'Remy' doesn't speak at all, now; I do believe he's been… well… thrown out entirely. Hope you don't mind."
She simpered mockingly, and then leapt backward as the Professor lunged toward Remy, nearly toppling from his wheelchair.
"You!" he howled, and it was clearly not the Professor speaking. "You whoreson! You dog! I will destroy you again before I allow you to regain life!" He raised his hands to his forehead in concentration, obviously trying to use the Professor's powers to harm Roarke.
"Ah," Roarke replied, smirking, "But you haven't got a troop of Redcoats to shoot for you this time, Snythe." He snarled as the hated name left his mouth.
The others snapped out of their indecision, and began a steady barrage of mid-level attacks against the professor. Roarke flinched, and batted at an invisible attacker. Kitty ran by the Professor, and winced as she phased him out of his wheelchair. This is so, like, wrong!
Lance shook the ground into a quagmire beneath the Professor, who began to sink into the newly formed mud.
"More!" Bess shouted. "He's still in control!"
Kurt began to teleport Roarke from place to place, and the other young man straightened and quit flinching; apparently a moving target was harder for Snythe to hit.
Meanwhile, Bobby began to refreeze the ground around him, and Snythe visibly struggled to free himself before he was swallowed up entirely. "You fools!" he shouted. "Do you want to kill your leader?"
"He'd want us to," Colossus replied, just before he started to heap huge armfuls of snow and dirt on top of the Professor, hindering his efforts to break free.
Indeed, I do, they all heard faintly in their minds; the Professor was fighting, too. Do what you must, kill me if you have to, but do not let him keep control of my powers!
Roarke/Remy began to explode cards perilously close to the Professor, who began to systematically deflect the projectiles.
Logan, realizing that yet more distraction was needed, physically charged at the Professor, claws extended. He wasn't surprised when his attack was rebuffed by an invisible barrier that threw him into a wall. Undeterred, he threw himself at the Professor again, shouting, "All together! Now!"
The ground shook and opened beneath Professor X; Kitty ran by and phased him further down, as Piotr landed a pile of thick dirt right on his exposed face.
Bobby immediately set to freezing it in place, and the professor's struggles weakened. Logan's attack was more weakly deterred, and several of Gambit's cards got through, their explosions flashing off of the snow like blood.
Bess/Rogue had barely moved throughout the barrage, her face a mask of concentration. The Professor's head had been entirely buried for one long minute when she suddenly called out, "He's dying—Snythe's leaving—" She dove forward, and grasped the one part of Xavier not buried: his out flung hand.
The second her bare skin touched his, her eyes rolled into her head, and she collapsed to the ground. Roarke/Remy, too, folded like a marionette whose strings had been sliced.
There was silence for a moment. Then Remy stirred. "Get—Prof X—out—" he said hoarsely. "Bess has Snythe. He won't be going into de Prof again."
Hurriedly, nearly in hysterics, the others began to undo their terrible work. The ground loosened, the ice retreated, and Piotr swiftly unburied him as Kitty phased the dirt out of his clothes. The Professor was, to their universal relief, still alive, if only just.
"Take him inside," Logan directed. "Get him near the fire; warm him up. I'll bring Rogue and Remy in."
"Right," Kurt said, laying a hand on the unconscious Professor. With a puff of smoke and sulfur, they disappeared.
Logan sighed in relief, surveying the damage to the courtyard: he certainly didn't want to ever have to face off against the Professor again, even when Chuck was distracted. Those slams into the wall had hurt. And this was with the Professor not entirely in control? He shuddered. There was such a thing as too much power in one man.
He got an arm under Remy and heaved him to his feet; the Cajun leaned drunkenly, and slurred, "Rogue?"
"I'm gonna get her too. C'mon, let's get her and you inside, Gumbo."
"No—no—Bess—has Snythe—and Rogue," Remy stammered, lurching toward Rogue who, Logan now noticed, hadn't stirred when Remy had. She still lay on the snow, one hand outstretched.
He frowned. Was she breathing?
Remy abruptly flung himself at the prone girl, and Logan could only gape for a second: that cocky, self-assured little bastard was actually sobbing as he cradled Rogue's head in his hands, and desperately clutched her to him. "Please come back—please come back—or take me too—"
Logan felt a surge of panic as he realized the young man was not just asking for Rogue to come back—he was actually asking the ghosts to come back for him if she was gone
If she's dead, he wants to die? He wondered, appalled. How did they get so tied up in each other and I didn't notice?
Remy had continued talking: "Don't make me break my promise—where she is, I am; where she goes, I go. I can't break a promise to her. I love her. Please."
Logan wasn't even sure who he was talking to any more, but Rogue had to be helped. He pushed Remy aside as best he could—the Cajun clung stubbornly to one hand—and tried to feel for a pulse. One was there, but thready, tentative. "Damnit," he swore, and vowed that he was never going to let the Prof leave them alone on a vacation again. Ever.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Meanwhile, Rogue had found herself dragged along as Bess gleefully seized hold of Snythe when he tried to leap out of the Professor's dying body.
"Ha ha, you bastard!" the English girl gloated, as her strongly-glowing ghostly image, long dark hair swirling about her, grabbed firmly on to the arm of a cruel-looking man in a uniform. Her image nearly enveloped his. The uniformed ghost—Snythe, Rogue supposed—was watery, uncertain-looking. He seemed to realize the disparity in their appearances, too.
"What? You little bitch! How do you have power over me? Me, who have possessed more lives than can be counted! No one should be able to hold me! Least of all you."
"Didn't you realize what day it is? All Hallows' Day, fool, and you willingly walked to the same plot of land where you killed me. A debt is owed, Snythe, and you shall finally pay it!"
"Hah! Perhaps. But this means giving up that second chance at life! What of that, girl?"
"That was a ruse, you great idiot, a plan to exact our revenge against you. That second life means naught to me or Roarke!"
"But I think it means something to that one, doesn't it?" Snythe asked shrewdly, nodding at Rogue where she hovered. "Shall she pay, as well?"
Bess gasped, and twisted her head to look at Rogue. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you in your body?"
"I—I don't know," Rogue said nervously. "I thought this was part of your plan—?"
Bess shook her head frantically. "No! We must have become too entangled to easily separate, between your powers and my memory-sharing. I must have pulled you with me when I made the leap across the barrier." Snythe chuckled evilly, and she punched him. He subsided.
"Pulled who with you?" Another spirit-voice intruded, accompanied by another strongly-glowing image: A young man in a brilliant scarlet coat and rich leather breeches, guns slung from his chest and a sword at his side. His brightness, too, eclipsed Snythe's weak light as he neared the trio. He stopped when he caught sight of Rogue. "You! Were you injured during the fight?"
"No—at least, I don't think so…"
Bess shook her head. "No. Her body was not harmed. I think I pulled her with me accidentally."
Snythe cackled. "A fine problem for our oh so moral Roarke and his leman! Do you spare the girl, and set me free, or do you give your mortal enemy his due, and condemn an innocent to death?"
Roarke rolled his eyes, and scoffed. "Neither. You never did understand love, did you?" he sounded almost sad. He turned to Rogue.
"It's very simple," he told her. "You don't need our help to get back, just head toward Remy."
"What?" Rogue turned: blank grayness stretched all around. "But I can't see him!"
"It's simpler than you think. Just go to where you feel loved. You know the way; you just don't realize it yet."
"But—"
"Don't doubt love, dear," Bess said kindly. "After all, it helped Roarke and I find each other time and again for 250 years. You're still alive. It should be easy."
"Not if I—" Snythe started, and reached toward Rogue, who shrank back. Bess and Roarke closed around him.
"Time to face your Creator, Snythe," Roarke said. "Have you said your prayers?" With a flash, the trio vanished, Snythe's despairing wail echoing behind them.
Rogue turned in a slow circle, but the view never changed. "Go to where you feel loved?" she snorted. "What the Sam-Hill does that mean?" She frowned, sat on more gray nothingness, and began to think.
"Go to where you feel loved. Go to where you feel loved. Well, obviously that's when I'm with Remy, and Kurt, and Logan, and Kitty—they all love me in their own way.
"Kitty's such a good friend to me, even when I'm mean and don't deserve it—" A memory of a painstakingly done birthday card intruded, making her smile. "She sure spent a lot of time making sure that card was just perfectly 'me,' even when she could've bought me a Hallmark card and I wouldn't have known the difference."
As she remembered the unexpected rush of pleasure that thoughtfulness had brought her, she felt a sudden tug at her right hand. Startled, she leapt up and followed the tug, continuing to think aloud.
"An' it's kinda weird to put the words 'love' and 'Logan' into the same sentence, but he shows he cares about us all the time, just in his own weird 'bikes and leather and pain' sort o' way. He helped me out a lot after my powers went haywire, and he's always pushed me to be better than I want to be myself." Another scrap of memory, this time of Logan shouting at her, encouraging her, as she free-climbed a canyon wall. It had been purest hell, and she hadn't been able to use her arms for a day and a half, but the sense of triumph had been worth it. She hadn't believed Logan before.
Another tug rewarded her thoughts, this time to the right and forward a bit.
"Kurt… Kurt is the ultimate overprotective brother. But it's not just any brother who'll forgive you fo' shoving your statue-mother off a cliff… or being such a jerk to him… or yellin' at him fo' eating the last of the toast. And I can always talk to him about everything—except Remy, of course. But even his distrust of Remy is on my behalf. He doesn't want me to get my heart broken any more than I do, so I can't really get mad at him fo' caring. After some of the stuff I've done, I'm surprised he still does. But he does. He loves me, and it's a true gift."
A stronger pull yet, more directly forward.
"Remy…" Even saying his name brought a full smile to her face. "Remy just—loves me. Not for any reason, or from getting to know me, or anything. From the first minute, Remy loved me in some way, and it's only gotten stronger and deeper as we've been together. Remy doesn't ask for anything in return, doesn't expect anything in return. Hell, he was interested in me back when we thought I'd never be able to touch anyone ever again—and that was when he didn't know me, when I was the enemy!
"Even his kidnapping me was after long, thoughtful watching. Sure, he needed me to help him, but it was also to shake me up, make me realize what I had goin' for me. 'People watchin' over me,' he said, an' even then he was one o' them.
"An' he's honest, a weird thing to say about a thief, but he is. He'll own up to anything he's done, 'because he's usually done it for some reason or other. Not always 'good' reasons, exactly, but he doesn't just go off completely wild. There's always a purpose, a goal for him. Except with me. He's just happy to be with me, and I'm happy to be with him. We don't have to talk or anything, either. Just bein' around each other is enough.
"I just wish," she finished wistfully, "That if I have to spend the rest o' Remy's life waiting for him in this grayness, that I could've touched him—kissed him—one more time."
The strongest pull yet, a yank really, that jerked her off of her feet and through—something—a barrier that'd been between herself and—
Remy was holding her hand. His tears were cooling on her face, and dimly Rogue was aware of someone else's hand at her throat.
Her lungs were burning as though she'd been holding her breath, and when she drew in air deeply, the hand at her throat jerked back, and she heard Logan curse.
Remy's hand tightened on her own. "Chere?" Was all he got out before she dragged his face down to hers, kissing him deeply.
"Your hand, it was your hand, drawing me back, showing me the way to go…" she babbled half-coherently against his lips, realizing where the tugging had come from. "Every time I thought of love, you pulled me closer to you—or I pulled myself closer—I don't know—"
"I don't know, either—" Remy got in, and kissed her again before scooping her up bodily. "But let's worry 'bout that later. Let's get you inside."
"Stripes?" It was Logan , of course, trailing concernedly after them. "Are you all right?"
"Just now," she replied, leaning her head on Remy's warm shoulder, as he carried her into the inn, "Just now, I think I'm about perfect." She lifted her head as Remy settled her onto the couch beside him, and looked back at Logan. "But thanks for asking. I know you really, truly care." She leaned against Remy again, his arm coming around her. "I know I'm loved."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
So… comments? Slightly early Happy New Year, everyone!
I think there will be a postlude or epilogue. Unless everyone thinks it's finished. :) Let me know.
Resolve to submit more reviews in 08! Feed your authors!