4Rogue – you didn't sign in, so here is my response:
Retaliation is a very bad habit with both of them, especially Rogue, and it is going to be something they'll have to deal with. / Okay some equilibrium - her going out with Angel once and then turning down his offer to be more involved does NOT compare to Remy sleeping with a large number of random women and bringing it up while they're being intimate/ As to jumping to conclusions, Remy isn't saying or thinking he's in love with her. He wants her, sure, even more than she's willing to offer, but remember, he's had only one serious relationship before and he's still bitter about the end of that one. Until he comes to grips with the tenderness he feels for Rogue, Rogue's not really wrong for being wary. / Dead-on about the being used part though. Rogue has always been the victim, this has been her first major attempt to reverse that, to use someone else and she's sticking to that role. And oh yeah, Gambit has major self-esteem issues, that will be addressed later.
You too, lovestoread:
The first kiss was Cody, from the episode introing Rogue - in the comics, Cody kissed her and that's when her powers first activated. As to the second blond boy was Iceman (drat, he's NOT blond!! I can't believe I screwed that up!! He's blond in the comics - that's why! Wow, no one else picked up on that... ) / Her confession there recalls her realization her control with Remy doesn't transfer to others – and thus, she chose to give her virginity to him for non-practice reasons. (That's sure to give Remy a mindjob.)
Thanks Chica De Los Ojos Café, so I can point out an IMPORTANT ISSUE: Remy has had fuckbuddies before, thus Rogue's cynicism is justified - so this is a new experience where such a relationship isn't enough for him. Rogue knows it's not enough for her, but she's settling - she thinks this is the most she can get from him, because he's only interested in physical relationships.
And thanks to the rest of you!
Wiccamage, coldqueen (lol), romylover, Riauna (:)), cream tea anyone (absolutely - but I'm trying to also show how addiction can be destructive), animefan135, TheLetter5, thriller, ShadowFax999 (OY! And neutral is good. As for running, well...), Delphine, allyg1990, dreamschemer (I'm going to address that), deadsnowwhite, Cleio (thanks, sometimes I worry I'm too concise).
And best quote goes to: ishandahalf – absolutely!
"It just isn't a Rogue/Remy relationship without the drama." LOL!
This chapter has been begging to be written for a long time – thus the length. The sex is over people, now let the action begin. –evil grin- Only four chapters to go!!
Okay, first section – basically a splicing of Rogue and Remy's perspectives. Rogue's in bold. Lyrics are from Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler. I know it's an oldy, but man, it worked fantastically here.
17) Out of control
It was strange really.
Practice before had been far more time-consuming, not to mention mentally draining. It had been draining to constantly be aware of her mental state, on guard for the moment she inevitably lost her grip, even if Remy was usually more alert and ready to pull away.
Remy wasn't a sadist – and he didn't want to be one.
But she'd passed that stage. Her involvement with Remy was now almost simply physical exercise; a tangle of limbs, tongue, and teeth. Simply put: sex, other than the secret exchange.
He didn't want to enjoy the fact she wanted him despite herself, despite her better judgment. He didn't want torment her with the ugliness of his past, filling her ears with the knowledge of who exactly she was in bed with, the devil she let between her thighs.
And yet, there was an exhaustion her past couldn't touch. And it wasn't physical – the ache of stretched muscles, ones that had just recently become used, or the lethargy that accompanied a harsh workout. This exhaustion haunted her steps, a whispered hiss at the exertion it took just getting through the day, a hollow echo that filled her head whenever someone addressed her. She couldn't quite pin it down – it was everywhere, yet centered nowhere– utterly elusive.
And when it came down to it, it didn't satisfy him. Seeing her cringe from him, yet return the next night only made him wonder just how far he could push her before she passed the point of no-return.
It was as if Remy had reversed his mutation. Instead of charging the energy, he was steadily draining it out of her. She had to give a grim smile at the ludicrous thought.
He didn't want the answer for that; he didn't want her to despise him.
She was the only vampire around.
Yet somehow he was bleeding her dry.
It couldn't be too late to lay down his cards.
Her head sunk into her hands.
It couldn't be…
It didn't help that psyches were acting up – ever since the progression of her relationship with Remy, they'd become more hostile, especially Wolverine. The only one pleased was Remy's. And the only time they gave her rest was when she was with him – and his psyche expanded within her until it was just them, Rogue and Remy.
Because this was never what he wanted.
But she wouldn't give into them, no more than she could give into Remy, let him break her, with the whispered confessions he plied her with.
All he had to do –
Every secret another tendril of connection, no matter how much it hurt.
was figure out how to stop the game before it was too late.
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
It was just after ten that the call went out. After watching over Rogue for the better part of the night, Remy would've been loath to get out of bed, especially as it was a weekend, but then Wolverine had mentioned the reason for the impromptu mission.
Creed.
He was at the front door in ten minutes flat, impatiently waiting for Colossus to join them.
"You sure it's him?" he couldn't help asking.
Wolverine's look was disgusted. "Chuck's been picking him up in the area. He wants to know why he's skulking around here." His fists tensed.
"Can't head out without the Tin Man?" he said instead.
"Nope," he snorted. "Chuck thinks he'd be the best to handle the situation diplomatically." He cracked his knuckles and Gambit didn't doubt the man had his own plans along the lines of personal vendetta. He didn't remark on it though; he had his own similar reasons for wanting to see Creed without the watch dog of Magneto around. He had his own score to settle.
His hands tingled with a rush of energy and with effort, he calmed himself. The fireworks had to wait.
Colossus finally appeared, looking hassled, not alone – and Gambit's frown matched Wolverine's scowl.
"Weh have jus' as much a rahght tah go!" Rogue insisted to a harried Cyclops tailing Colossus, Shadowcat flanking her on the other side.
"Cyke, what's this about?" Wolverine gruffly intervened first. The younger man ran a hand through his hair.
"Professor Xavier made me team leader for this assignment–" Gambit felt like the scoffing at the 'honor,' but Wolverine beat him to it.
Wolverine's growl was low in his throat, but clearly audible. "I know that! I meant about your tag-alongs."
Rogue stared him down, her hair obviously mussed by the quick change into her uniform, folding her arms. "Weh're full X-Men jus' like you guys. And we're available, it's Satahday and we ain't got any other plans."
"You're not needed." Gambit watched a familiar fire fill her eyes and felt a certain satisfaction that for once it wasn't directed at him. Not that he disagreed with Wolverine, at all.
"Yah cin neva have too much backup," she shot back, cocking a hip and making her X-Men belt shift down. Gambit's hands clenched to repress the sudden urge to toy with it. "An' it ain't like we're helpless."
"We don't need-" It was almost amusing how Wolverine had just usurped Cyclops' position, but Cyclops seemed content to let the grizzled older man wage this battle.
"With us, weh cin break inta three teams 'stead of two. Cut down the searchin' time." That was a valid point and Gambit began to feel the first strands of unease.
"It's S-"
Rogue snorted. "Sabretooth," she cut him off in mockingly high sweet voice. "The overgrown furball we've neva dealt with bahfore!"
Wolverine was still frowning, but seemed to be weakening. "Yah got lucky."
"We had a plan – and it worked."
Wolverine's eyes flicked to the silent, possibly persuadable, girl next to her. "Half-pint?" Shadowcat's eyes shot between Wolverine and Rogue, but she nodded.
"We just want to help Mr. Logan and you know we can."
"Fine," he turned on his heel. "Take the van. Just follow my bike."
Rogue smirked in victory, but Gambit stepped up, forcing his lips into a casual grin. There was no way he wanted Rogue anywhere near Creed. Wolverine paused with his hand on the door.
"Chérie, dis just be a reconnaissance mission; all of us be a bit of an overkill, ce n'est pas?" (isn't it?)
She didn't buy it for a moment, her hard eyes narrowing. "You got somet'ing tah say Gambit, say it straight."
He dropped the grin. "Weh can handle dis wit'out help."
She sneered at him. "Who are yah, mah mother?" The comparison stung and she cocked her head in faux realization. "Wait, she'd let me go."
He stepped closer to her unconsciously, staring into her defiant eyes, and just wanted to grab, shake her, say he was, he was… He was what to her? Lover? Fuckbuddy? He never thought he would mind an ambiguity this much. And he was suddenly very aware of the fact all the other X-Men were staring at them, as if anticipating the clarification just as much. He forced his hands down by his side.
If she read his intent in his eyes, she gave no sign, only raised her chin up higher and lifted a half-gloved hand. "Afraid he's gonna tell me a secret?"
The implication was obvious and he reeled –
Blond hair shining in the moon-lit night, pale skin stark against the frigid dark sky. She dangled like a doll, caught in the clutch of a monster who ferally grinned from the top of the building and he is six stories too low – opposite a stocky man, dark eyes and hair lost in the night, but known too well – brother
"Which is going to be little thief?"
The girl who loved him – Genny – except she couldn't, this pretty fille only a tool to get a gem, a gem not worth her deceived dangling life that he can't choose because blood is always thicker than water – the two fall and he swings out but he can only catch the brother by choice instead of the lover he used…
And her blood ran on the street.
He came back to himself – had she dreamed it? – he'd taken a step back and she brushed by him. And he didn't dare reach out to stop her.
Shadowcat hurried after her, biting her lip and darting only a quick look at Gambit as she passed. Cyclops followed, though Colossus dawdled, silently offering his support but wisely refraining from speaking.
"Guess you'll be in the van wit' de kit-kat," Gambit said with a razor-sharp grin. "Betta hurry."
"You ar' not co-ming?"
Gambit flicked his fingers, as if getting rid of an imaginary cigarette. "Gambit got his bike, 'll follow."
Colossus gave him a concerned look but nodded. He stepped outdoors a moment later, catching sight of Rogue rounding on Shadowcat.
"What more do you wanta talk 'bout? Thought y' said all you wanted last night?" her heated voice carried and Shadowcat immediately backed away with a flush.
Rogue's eyes darted to his, then flew away – and for the first time, he wondered why exactly she hadn't come to him last night. She'd never missed before, even if he had left her twisting two nights.
But the back of her head as she trudged into the van gave no answers.
Gambit walked through the forest in bad humor. There was no point in stealth – behind him Cyclops tripped over a root and yelped as he crashed into a bush.
"Gambit, slow down! The whole point of teams is to stay together!"
He cursed his luck to end up with the bumbling Boy Scout. Colossus had been the one to luck out in the assignments; he'd been paired with Shadowcat as a perfect complement of offensive and defensive mutations. Wolverine had claimed Rogue, leaving Cyclops to Gambit.
He cursed Wolverine. If he let Creed within three feet of her –
As if on cue (except for the fact he'd had the same thought circling his brain every since they'd split into three groups half-an-hour again), he heard a scream – dim, but distinct.
His blood froze, before firing into action.
And he flew toward the sound, arrowing through the trees. Cyclops ran behind him, talking into his mouthpiece.
"Colossus! Shadowcat! Rogue! Report! What's going on?!"
Gambit swallowed, bringing his hand up to his ear. "Rogue? Russe? If y' cin hear us, say somet'ing!"
"We, we're okay –" Shadowcat's shaky, breathless voice in his ear only lessened Gambit's panic minutely. Something had gone wrong, he could feel it in his bones – and a thief never doubted his intuition.
"Where are you?" Cyclops immediately demanded, his voice crisp and commanding.
The woods began to thin and with a final burst of adrenalin, Gambit sprinted into a clearing. His eyes instantly scanned the scene, lasering in on the sight of Rogue. His breath caught.
She was curled into a ball, shoulders shaking, holding her head. "Chere!"
Shadowcat's white face snapped up from where she hovering next to Rogue, Colossus at her side. Wolverine remained sniffing around an apparently unconscious Sabertooth a few yards from Rogue.
"What de hell happened?" he demanded, coming over to Rogue but resisting the urge to take her into his arms, a slightly out-of-breath Cyclops coming up behind him.
Shadowcat blinked rapidly, wrapping her arms around herself. "He-he found us and started to ask Colossus about Magneto-"
"He did not seem to ov heard much ov his return," Colossus clarified.
Shadowcat resumed without seeming to realize the interruption. "-he was just asking and being, being snarly when Lo-Wolverine showed up," she licked her lips, "and then they started to fight and Sabertooth threw him out here and-," her breath caught "we followed when Rogue showed up. She came from the opposite direction and-and I didn't really see her until Sabertooth almost fell over her."
Her eyes fell back to Rogue, who was rocking herself and muttering under her breath, and she blinked tears. "I guess he thought she was going to try to absorb him and he grabbed her hand-" She cut herself off as he automatically looked at her hands, half-gloved and he felt a burning seize the lining of his throat. Colossus put a steadying hand on Shadowcat's shoulder.
Cyclops swore, but Gambit could only muster a bleak smile. "Language Fearless Leader."
"He wasn't supposed to attack Sabertooth! I know he's got his issues with him, but- What are you doing?!"
Gambit immediately looked over to Wolverine and his smile became a little more authentic. Wolverine was half-way through chaining Sabertooth, clicking his hands into the manacles he must've stowed in the van's trunk and retrieved.
"He's more cooperative this way," he grunted, starting on the feet and Cyclops, worked into a fine temper, began to rail at him.
He only got two sentences in though before the 'overgrown furball' came to. He let loose a full body shiver like a cat exposed to water. "Damn brat soul-sucker." Wolverine's claws came out, inches from Sabertooth's throat.
"I'd watch your tongue – 'cuz I can make it disappear."
"Wolverine!" Cyclops warned. Sabertooth's head shuddered, before his eyes opened and he keenly looked around. Ignoring the immediate threat, his gaze landed on Gambit. He grinned ferally.
"Long time, no see thief." Gambit's jaw tensed. "Wasn't expectin' to see you – haven't turned tail an' run home like a good little lackey yet?"
The card was charging between his fingers before he even registered the action. "Y' bibette-"
Wolverine scowled at him. "Put the card away hotshot."
"Gambit-"
But the distraction was exactly what Sabertooth had been waiting for – his loose foot shot out and slammed Wolverine right in the jaw, sending the smaller man flying as Sabertooth jumped shakily to his feet. Gambit let loose the card, but Sabertooth was already on the run despite the chains and the explosion of dirt just served to obscure his flight.
"Gambit!"
"I've got him!" Wolverine snarled, giving chase and disappearing into the forest. Cyclops swore again.
"Ve should get Rogue tuo Xavier," Colossus' solemn voice interrupted and both men spun. Colossus was in metal form, holding an unconscious Rogue gingerly in his arms – and Gambit could not help the pang of jealousy. Shadowcat hovered at his side, her lip swollen from biting.
"Fine," Cyclops said tightly, "let's move out."
Gambit caught up beside Shadowcat and they walked in silence until they got to the van. "De fille's gonna be alright," he finally said quietly, his eyes on the still Rogue, not sure who he was trying to convince.
Shadowcat tried to smile. "She always is. Last time, she grew out all this hair and complained about having to shave it off." The smile died.
They both knew that the less physical changes Rogue exhibited, the more mental energy she'd absorbed – out of Creed.
Gambit cursed.
Had she not able to control her mutation or did she absorb Creed intentionally? The thought tormented him. The thought she'd inflicted it on herself, all to know the few secrets he had kept from her.
She didn't come to him that night.
And he couldn't go to her, not with Creed haunting her mind.
Remy paced the floor long into the night.
He had learned early in life that busying his hands was the surest way to keep himself out of trouble. Cigarettes and cards had proved helpful in that manner – and so did the skill of cooking.
He'd learned for a very different reason, of course. After being so long on the streets, grabbing scraps wherever he could, he'd been enthralled by the fully stocked kitchen at the LeBeaus. Tante Mattie had snapped his fingers red for trying to snatch half-baked goodies (the LeBeau boys had a running contest but Mattie had with great skill, kept all their scores below 50). But later, noticing that he displayed just as much interest in the actual process of preparing the food, she had started giving outloud tips whenever he came around and 'punishing' him to helping out in the kitchen. It was thanks to her that he could make the best gumbo north of the Mason-Dixie line.
It hadn't taken very long at the Mansion for Piotr to slip up and mention Remy's ability to Kitty, who had been positively thrilled and begged to be taught. Remy would never fall for those big kitten eyes again.
But restless, he volunteered to make a Cajun snack for a bunch of the younger girls watching some chick flick he'd never bothered to check out. Jean, passing by, was soon roped into the scheme as well, but Remy had no energy for flirtation. Long hours of thought had drained him, leaving his head aching, though anxious for something, anything to occupy him.
He slipped off his gloves into his coat, which he set aside on one of the chairs arranged by the kitchenette adjoining the rec room the girls had claimed a couch in.
Cajun seasoned popcorn was hardly gourmet, but it was better than nothing – and the buzz of their chatter in the background was almost soothing.
His back to them, he told them to go ahead and start the movie.
He knew the moment she walked in.
The step creaked when you entered the room – it was too soft for any of the X-boys, too hesitant for the high-energy girls.
It gave another muttered groan as she hesitated in the doorway – she always did that when she wasn't in a sociable mood, debate in the doorway. Despite himself, he felt his empathy reach out for her, but he caught himself before contact.
After everything, he didn't want to have a bout with her. Not now.
And so he steadfastly ignored her as her quiet footsteps entered the room. He refused to look up, just popped the popcorn into the microwave and busied his hands in the clean-up.
They just kept talking, kept moving around, memories, emotions, voices – they just wouldn't stop. About him, about her, about themselves, about EVERYTHING!
"Rogue?"
It was like constant static, a constant barrage except she couldn't close her eyes, couldn't shut off the sound. Her hand was against her head – but she was so tired…
"Rogue you okay?" Jean asked again and his shoulders tensed. No, he would not give in so easily.
"Stay outta my head Red."
They all recognized Wolverine's growl and Remy's head snapped around. Jean, Rahne, Jubilee and others were looking over the back of the couch at Rogue, Jean looking particularly worried.
He felt an icy dread crawl down his spine. If Wolverine, who Rogue hasn't absorbed in weeks is that close to the surface… He cursed and slide over the counter, racing to her side. She hunched against the back of the couch, eyes wedged shut, her jaw locked as she obviously waged battle with the psyches inside.
He felt sick.
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Belatedly, as he reached to lift her face crouching in front of her, he realized he didn't have gloves on. And the rapid thrum of her mutation was feverish and hungry – she didn't have any control.
He picked one of the girls still half-crouched on the couch, looking on with obvious concern and possible panic. "Jubilee, go get m' gloves. Left pocket." He didn't wait to see her nod. "An' someone get Xavier."
"I already called him." Jean's voice was steady and he felt a cold relief that someone else was calm. For the first time, he cursed the wheelchair that restricted the telepath. As if reading his mind – was she? – she went on. "Her mind is too fragile for him to try anything outside of her presence. And I can't-" she cut herself off.
Rogue was hunching back in on herself and he nudged his knee between her knees, pushing her chin up to prevent the defensive curling. He couldn't wait. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jubilee still fumbling with his jacket.
"Got the gloves?" She straightened, self-consciously holding a pair in one hand.
"Yeah, but the fingers are caught off-"
"Bring them here," he demanded and she immediately obeyed, her puzzled frown remaining.
He slid them on and took a deep breath preparing himself as he sat before her.
And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you'll only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever
And we'll only be making it right
Cause we'll never be wrong together
We can take it to the end of the line
Her mind was a maelstrom of emotion, it radiated out of her in drowning intensity as her walls crumbled, making his senses spin – so much, much worse than the previous time. It must've taken time to get this bad – how had he possibly missed it?
But he knew the answer.
He hadn't wanted to feel this deeply.
Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
But how to help her? She gave an anguished growl and he could see her fingernails lengthening – and he remembered the description of her last rampage. Losing all control – his mind shuddered in remembrance –
No! He had to think objectively; he needed a plan. His charm wasn't working – the churning knots of emotions were like so many whirlpools, blackholes sucking any possible manipulation into oblivion. Too much chaos, like trying to meld together an armful of broken glass with only body heat.
So much energy, just waiting to explode – his mind flashed. Pressure; she was like a pressure cooker, she needed it released, lowered. Siphon the emotions, let it vent – he brought his hands up to her face, letting his fingers feather her face. He'd never let her absorb him without her at least partially in control – he couldn't dwell on that.
Time to lay y'r hand down LeBeau, he still couldn't help but think.
"Look at me Rogue."
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart
Almost painfully, her eyes finally shuttered open and he caught them in his gaze, using every ounce of empathy he had –
he pulled -
And the supernova of anger surged through her, forcing its way to primacy. Her entire body tensed as it became thicker, stronger, more feral. A fanged mouth leered at him.
"LeBeau," a foreign voice sneered out of her red mouth before launching into a string of curses and he shuddered internally. "What are you, the big f-ing hero?"
He kept his tone calm, despite the effort. "Y' not in yaur body Creed an' y' can't jus' try ta hijack Rogue."
Her face grew darker before the sneer became more pronounced, her entire face contorting into malice. "How sweet that you care," Sabertooth hissed cloyingly, "you gonna let this girl fall too?" Blond hair fluttering in the night like a flag as it fell – Sharp fingernails dug into his arms and he grit his teeth, trying desperately to keep projecting calm.
"De fille can take care of herself, laid you flat," he couldn't edge of the rebuke.
An almost mutinous, sullen look settled on her face. "Bet she's laid you flat more." The charm was working and the howling anger of Sabertooth was fading, he touched her face again, forcing the pocket of emotion to fragment before pulling once again. The cold bit into him, but he ignored it.
Her body shuddered, her torso suddenly loosening and becoming less compact, like a rippling effect of a disturbed lake.
"Where the hell am I now?" she snapped in a voice he didn't recognize. "What did that freak mutie do to me?"
His teeth ground again, but he managed a condescending smirk. "Jus' calme boy. You ain't bein' hurt."
"Hurt? I'm stuck in here – in her, you think I wanted this?" The sheer annoyance got to him.
"Y' shouldn't've attacked her den," he snapped.
The emotional swirl charged higher as Rogue's body tensed and he hissed, brushing her face and muttering calm.
"Y' leave de fille alone an' dere ain't no trouble."
"Says you," the boy shot back, "her what?" It was a bitter last blow as the power of the psyche faded under the assault. He didn't respond, just kept stroking her face – she drew in the energy and then he drew it out.
Golden eyes glowed at him. "Gambit, vhy am I not surprised?"
Ignoring the hostility, he felt himself relax just a bit. At last someone he could possibly persuade. "All dis angah ain't good for yaur sis Blue Boy."
Finer fangs flashed. "Like Rogue doesn't livve on anger," was spat out, but before Remy could do more than blink, the psyche reoriented. "An' yhou, you are good for her?"
He was starting to notice a trend, one he didn't particularly like. Wasn't there anyone in there who liked him?
But deftly, he avoided the accusation. "Righ' now, 'm more worried 'bout you. Stop fightin' de chere. It's hurtin' her – an' I know y' don't want dat."
The bellicose wavered, before softening slightly. But Kurt was just as stubborn as his faux sister. "An' you?"
Remy put his fingers on her face and lulled him, before drawing out the next, fingers numb, not trusting himself to give a promise.
"Some guys just aren't meant to be good guys." The hiss caught him off-guard, but the knot unraveled even as it was expressed and only by a mental count, and finally deciding it hadn't been his own psyche, did he figure out it must have been Bobby.
"Remy!" At last, someone who sounded half-glad to see him – but then, inevitably, she frowned. "It's getting bad in here." Clear blue eyes looked into him.
"Yeah, noticed." He gave a grimace-smile. "Tryin' to help." He waggled a bare finger by her face, but she didn't even glance.
Her lips pressed into a solemn, almost feral look. "Maybe you should've been less eager," she said sharply and he knew she wasn't talking about this time.
"Kit-kat-" he wasn't sure why he felt the urge to defend himself, rather than calm.
She cut him off. "Yeah, I know, I need to calm down – but y'know, it's a lot harder to do it in here. It's just – we're all we have in here." She tried to explain – and he almost wanted to say sorry or he understood, but it seemed insulting. Instead, he touched her face, the act took more energy than before, and –
A growl. Her fingers tensed again.
"Gumbo."
"Wolverine," he said, this not the time or place to antagonize.
"The bastard who just can't leave her alone." He didn't even blink, instead giving him a severe look.
"If y' got a problem with me homme, y' or de others, you take it up wit' me," he challenged. "Leave de chérie out of it."
"Kinda hard to do that-" His eyes lasered, even as he recognized the easing of the attack.
"Maybe, but really de chere's suffe'ed enough without y'all gangin' up on her." Her face darkened, what was possibly a guilty face flitting over the features.
"And you bub?" He grit his teeth, realizing agreeing is impossible.
"I'm helpin' her – more than I can say for y' at the moment." Wolverine was defiant, but he was touching her face and the psyche dissolved into so much fragments. His fingers trembled, but he forced himself to bring out the heated core within her, resonating with both calm and frustration.
And then finally, her eyes changed – and he faced his own reflection.
The laugh that came from her throat was far too familiar. "Couldn't keep your fucking hands off, could y' LeBeau?"
He gave a bitter smirk. "Once a t'ief... Let de femme rest," his entire body resonated with the sentiment.
"Je sais," (I know) the psyche peered at him placidly. "But y' really t'ought y' could touch de femme unscatched?'
And the words echoed: We must all have our dreams.
He touched his fingers to her skin for the final time.
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart
Her eyes rolled back, flashing white – like a blank slate and dieu, he wished he could exorcise his own demons so easily – and she suddenly slumped into him, as if a puppet cut of its strings. He stroked her pale streak with infinite gentleness, feeling a shiver run down his body.
"Feel better now don't you?" he said humorlessly or tried to say, except the words garbled as his world wobbled and he passed out, covering her, oblivious of the girls' cries.
Turnaround, every now and then I know
you'll never be the boy you always wanted you to be
Turnaround, every now and then I know
you'll always be the only boy who wanted me the way that I am
Turnaround, every now and then I know
there's no one in the universe as magical and wondrous as you
Turnaround, every now and then I know
there's nothing any better and there's nothing I just wouldn't do
Turnaround bright eyes, every now and
then I fall apart
"I don't – I've never seen, anything like what he did. I just-" Red hair shook in an obvious loss of words.
"That's understandable Jean," Xavier soothed. "Remy is not a telepath, he's an empath. He operates in a very different manner."
Her brow wrinkled. "I know, but still. I get that he could draw out the psyches by manipulating the emotions, instead of the thoughts and calming them – but it wasn't just what he was doing, but what he was doing inside her- Except he wasn't doing it!"
It was incomprehensible. Jean was a telepath, used to constantly keeping her powers in check lest she skim internal secrets or thoughts. She still slipped up though, and usually it was the fact she knew too much, rather than not enough that plagued her. Observing Remy's interaction with Rogue however, fell far outside her range of experience. It was like asking a Renaissance painter to accurately describe a piece of impressionism.
"Jean-"
"Ugh, it wasn't just him using his powers–" she cut him off, obviously trying to break down the issue, "he was doing the hypnotic eye thing for sure, but he kept touching her face – like he was forcing her to take in the charm directly and, and it echoed."
Xavier was intrigued and leaned forward. "Echoed?"
She glanced down at him. "I, I can't really explain it any other way. Whatever he was trying to do from the outside, he somehow managed to duplicate it inside her."
"Hmm." Predictably his hands steepled.
"Professor?"
"I can't say I know for certain Jean," he cautioned, his mind lost in rumination, "but it does seem like he used his own psyche to amplify his empathy."
"You mean, he activated the empathy she absorbed inside her?" Jean goggled at the thought. In light of Rogue's previous breakdown, she and Xavier had extensively discussed Rogue's mentalscape. He had cautioned her against ever trying to interfere with it as the psyches inside could be quite hostile, and as they belonged to different minds, were nearly impossible for anyone to control completely, even by Rogue or Xavier himself. "But how?"
"That I do not know. We will have to wait for him to awaken. Using his empathy so extensively and being continuously absorbed has taken a toll on him."
Jean could only nod, still in shock.
Rogue wasn't sure when she awoke. She wasn't even positive it was her who had become alert first – Remy was so completely poised within her.
All the other psyches were quiet, muffled by the expansive, ever-present sense of him within her. She felt, felt full, almost like her own skin and personality were wrapped around him as if he was the core and she the imposer – as if if she peeled off the first layer of her skin, he was what would be found.
It was disorienting, but not, terrible. He wasn't trying to push her out, just lay there, observant, a shadow underlying her every thought and movement.
She carefully picked herself of the bed, he didn't like her getting up – still need to rest chérie -, but he didn't like the antiseptic white walls either and his protest was feeble.
She glanced in the mirror in the bathroom, she looked ragged, worn around the edges – had a bit of a rough ride dere - but far better than she had looked last time. Mmmm...
Feeling his thoughtful hmm vibrate through her, she wondered where he was; they needed to talk. Really talk.
She turned to the door, recognizing him down the hall, before realizing she wasn't relying on her senses to do so. She could feel him down there, just coming conscious.
Bizarre – she'd never had such perfect control – except it was almost like coordination – of his empathy before.
And that was why she felt the change.
Molecules, atoms are in constant motion, consuming energy, storing it, expending it. Remy had never had the chemistry lesson to clarify the whole concept, but he knew, had experienced, the reality.
The ability to change potential energy into kinetic. To use his own self-produced energy to be a catalyst, transforming the most innocent objects into fiery explosives.
Along with that ability had come a sense, an awareness of the energy around him, an inaudible whine of moving particles, brushing, crashing, orbiting others. A hum that only got louder when he gave into the implicit request, release me!
And once, once upon a time, he hadn't needed to use physical contact to do so…
His head ached, a low throb echoing into the full reaches of his brain. He groaned, squeezing his eyes tight in anticipation of bright light. They burned as well, as if they'd already been exposed and overexposed.
They burned.
The energy, the hum – he lifted a hand to his head feeling the movements all around him like drafts on his skin. Where was he?
He peeked an eye – MedLab – before realizing his mistake.
He could feel it coursing through his body, racing from his core to every inch of his body – and beyond into the pulsating bed to the damn sinister white walls.
Energy.
Every square scrap he had left just like before…
that had forced him from New Orleans with ten bloodied bodies from the night exploding on his hands, only their fear preventing his own execution…
"No!"
Pain, realization – terror, like she'd only felt experienced few times before when she knew – dieu he knew – what was about to happen when she – he – the disaster, danger about to befall but couldn't fucking stop it and –
She started to run, but collided into Dr. McCoy who she hadn't seen appear – except it didn't matter because Remy – REMY!
The last thing she felt was an arm around her waist before the world exploded into light.
"NO!"
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart