I worked on this chapter for a while! This is the beginning of Part 2, so it's really long. I hope you enjoy it!
Marie woke up to see a ceiling fan rhythmically twirling above her head. Her eyes slowly adjusted as she propped herself up on her elbows to take a look around the dark bedroom. The sound of a door closing somewhere startled her and made her scramble backwards on the bed.
When the door opened, a low growl escaped her lips as she backed even further into the wall beside the bed, "Who are you? Where am I?"
"It's me, Remy...don't you remember?"
She eyed him cautiously and jumped as he took a step forward, "What's my name?"
"What the hell do you mean?"
Marie jumped up and grabbed Remy by the collar before slamming him into the nearest wall with a strength that surprised him, "Don't fuck with me! What. Is. My. Name?"
"Rogue...but ya friends call ya Marie, petite..."
She blinked and released him as she searched her blank memory bank for any recollection of her own name, her history, or her personality...but she came up with nothing.
"Marie...I'm a friend. My name is Remy. Remy LeBeau...I ain't gonna hurt you, doll."
Marie pursed her lips together and took a step back, "I don't...I don't know who I am...I have to go."
Before he could say anymore, she rushed out of the room. When he tried to grab her, she slipped from his grip and grabbed him by the neck, "Back. Off."
A squeeze for emphasis told him she meant business. When she released him, he stumbled backwards and coughed a little as he rubbed his throat. Despite the fact that she nearly crushed his wind pipe with one of her tiny, delicate hands, Remy was pretty turned on...
Marie raced down a dark stair well and out the door. She was immediately met by a large crowd of people, laughing, drinking and engaging in general merriment. Definitely not what she needed right now...the sound seemed to be overwhelming her.
After walking down the block, she glanced up at a sign that read "Bourbon St." before turning down a quieter, less crowded street. She just wanted to get away from the noise...
Before long, she found herself walking down a dark alley, her arms folded and her head down. The faraway, yet clear sound of footsteps behind her made her stop. Part of her hoped it was just that Remy-guy coming to check on her...but when she heard an unfamiliar, gruff voice approach, "Hey babydoll...want some company?"
Marie turned around to see the sketchy looking skinhead leering at her, "No. I'd prefer to be left alone."
He stepped a little bit closer, prompting a snarl to form on her lips as he spoke, "Well, I think you could use a little bit of friendly company...you look quite lonely."
"Look, asshole. I'm not in the mood for this kinda bullshit. Now just back the hell off!"
The skinhead pulled a pocketknife from his jacket pocket and opened it before pointing it at her. Instinctively, Marie grabbed the wrist that held the knife and twisted it painfully, making him cry out and drop the knife. Using his wrist to hold him steady, she kicked him in stomach, successfully knocking him against the brick wall of the building in front of them.
After a brief cough, the man grumbled, "You bitch!" before charging her and swinging wildly. Instincts took over as Marie dodged and ducked to avoid his erratic swings. The faraway sound of someone calling her name briefly distracted Marie, allowing the skinhead to catch her with a right hook to the side of her face.
Stunned and surprised, she lost her balance and fell against some trash cans. The guy grabbed her by the arm and pushed her up against the wall, "You'll be nicer to me now...right?"
Suddenly, Marie grabbed his neck. After being hit, her powers had automatically activated and she felt herself absorbing the man's life force.
Remy, who had been around the corner calling her name, suddenly entered the alley with his cane. He rushed forward and slammed the tip of it into the ground, effectively knocking Marie off of her unconscious, twitching attacker.
He tried to reach to help her up, but she quickly shook her head, "No! No! Don't touch me! My skin...my skin...it absorbed him."
"Come on, Marie...you can turn it off. You'll be OK. Just calm down and take my hand."
Marie's bottom lip trembled as she looked from his extended hand to his sincere eyes. In that moment, Remy knew that, despite her strength and power, she was still uniquely delicate.
She slowly closed her eyes and breathed out before reaching up and taking his hand. She didn't feel the pull...so she let out a slow breath and allowed him to lead her back to his apartment.
He sat her down on the couch of his living room and got her some water. They sat there for several moments of silence before she whispered, "I don't know who I am...or what I am..."
He nodded, "Remy gathered that petite...musta hit your head pretty hard. What happened back there?"
She slowly took a sip of water, desperately trying to grasp a hold of her newfound reality, "I dunno...it's like I was absorbing him. I felt his thoughts and his anger...I still do. I don't know how it started...or why..."
"Did he trigger it some way?"
Marie pursed her lips together, "Right before it happened, he hit me...and it hurt, the bastard...".
"That must've been it, petite. It's probably hard for you to control your powers when you're hurt." Remy eyed her sympathetically and sighed, "Look, cher...maybe you should get cleaned up, eat a little something and we can talk a little."
He showed her to the bathroom, showed her where all her toiletries were, then left the room and closed the door behind him. He went to his kitchen and began pulling out the take out he'd gotten while she was still unconscious and began making plates and heating it up.
As he listened to the shower start in the next room, he battled with the idea of telling her about the angry, growling man she'd so obviously been involved with. He didn't know exactly who she was, where she came from, or why they needed to even go to that god forsaken island he'd been held at, but she was a woman with no memory. Every detail that he could spare could be vital to her.
After her shower, Marie wiped the steam from the bathroom window and stared at herself. She took some time to examine her body from head to toe. She had a couple of small moles, but other than that, no discernible scars. Just as she was about to wrap the towel around her, she noticed three slanted scars directly in the middle of her chest. She ran her fingers over the light marks before wrapping her towel around her.
Just as Remy was sitting their food on the table, Marie emerged from the bathroom wearing a towel and wet hair. Suddenly, thoughts of telling her about her growly friend had flown out the window.
Remy LeBeau had never thought himself to be a "good" person. After all, he was a thief and a liar...and he'd been called such his entire life. The porcelain goddess that stood before him seemed as good a reason as any to live up to his nicknames of thief, liar, cheat and snake.
"I don't have any clean clothes."
He nodded before averting his eyes from her tempting frame, "Uh...I'll give you some of my sweats til I'm able to go get ya some of your own. Why don't you sit down and have a nibble while I grab you some clothes?"
She nodded and slowly sat down, crossing her legs to avoid flashing him.
After she finished eating, she returned to the bedroom to change into her oversized, borrowed clothes.
When she returned to the kitchen/living area, Remy was clearing the dishes. She sat back down at the table and slowly crossed her arms, "So, LeBeau. How is it that I know you?"
Remy raised his brows at her directness as he turned back around, "We met through a mutual friend recently. I gave y'all a ride on my plane. You had an accident on three mile island and I found you there, unconscious."
"A mutual friend? Who was it?"
He pursed his lips together, hoping that he could think of a proper way to keep her from finding out about that Logan guy. "A man named John Wraith. Y'all were investigating some illegal operations, but I wasn't clear on the details."
"So...do you know if John was a close friend of mine?"
Remy sighed, "Far as I knew, y'all had just met. I didn't know John well, either. We just had a business arrangement. I think he might've died on the island, petite..."
Marie ran a hand through her hair, "So I wasn't with anyone else other than this John-guy?"
He looked her dead in the eyes, and lied, "No. You weren't with anyone else."
"I need to go back. There might be be some clues there."
Remy shook his head and regarded her sympathetically, "Sorry petite...the government ain't lettin' anyone in. They're coverin' up that whole situation with a story about a nuclear accident. It's on lock down. It's on just about every news channel..."
Marie sat back, defeated and feeling helpless, "That's it, then. I'm nobody with nothing."
He sat forward and slowly took her hand. He was relieved when she didn't automatically yank away, "I can help you, Marie."
She looked at him suspiciously before slowly removing her hand from his, "Why would you wanna help me?"
Remy smiled, "I ain't tryin' to imply nothin', petite...I met you and liked you. Now you need help. I can give you that help."
Marie eyed him cautiously for a few minutes before slowly nodding, "Fine...but I sleep on the couch. You sleep on the bed. No funny business. I'll clean or somethin' to earn my keep until I'm able to get a real job and save up enough to hit the road."
"Fair enough, doll."
That night, Remy insisted she sleep in his bed. As he settled down on the couch, he heard a soft sniffle coming from his bedroom. A few more moments passed and the unmistakable sound of a muffled sob resounded from her direction.
Remy sighed sadly and pursed his lips as he stared up at the ceiling. He would do what he could to help her...as long as it meant not losing her...
The next morning, Remy got up early and made his way to the nearest clothing store to pick up a few things for Marie. He used the clothes she'd left in the bathroom hamper as his size template and returned just as she was stepping out of the shower.
He sat the bags on the kitchen table, "Got a few things for ya to wear out here, petite."
Marie poked her head out of the bathroom door, "Would you mind handin' me the bag?"
Without thinking, Remy grabbed the bag and walked over to her awaiting hand. When she emerged from the bathroom, she was wearing simple jeans, a tee shirt and flip flops. Her wet hair hung in heavy waves down her back and around her face.
"You wanna eat breakfast here, or on our way out?"
She quirked an eyebrow, "Out where?"
"I know a mutant who can help us. She's a telepath and she can sense powers, so she can give you a better understandin' of your mutation."
Marie nodded slowly, "Let's just eat here."
They ate a quick bowl of cereal before leaving. They climbed into Remy's Jaguar convertible before taking off down the road. Marie examined the car as she sat in it, "This yours?"
Remy smirked and glanced at her out the corner of her eye, "Somethin' like that, petite."
"What is it that you do, LeBeau?"
The cajun chuckled as they turned onto the highway, "I do a lot of things, belle."
Marie rolled her eyes, "You know what I mean. What do you do to afford your swanky little pad and this hot car?"
One look at her face told Remy she wasn't going to let this go, so he decided to be honest...if only this once, "I gamble...a lot. And I'm good at it. Lots of the folks I play with call me Gambit."
"Hm...Gambit..."
"I prefer you call me Remy, belle."
Marie smirked, "Maybe I will...or maybe I'll just call you swamp rat."
"How bout you reserve that for when Remy deserves it?"
"Fair 'nough."
Thirty minutes later, they pulled up the driveway of a large, southern mansion, complete with antebellum columns and plantation shutters.
They stepped out of the car together, but Gambit held up a hand, "Wait here, petite. I'm gonna make sure she's here."
Marie closed her door and leaned back against the car as he jogged up the porch steps and knocked on the door. He opened it when he got no response and stepped inside before closing the door behind him to be sure Marie didn't follow him without his knowledge.
He stepped into the grand foyer and looked around, "Anybody home?"
A telepathic message was sent directly into his mind, "What the hell do you want?"
Remy smiled, "Come out, come out wherever you are..."
He walked further into the house, but the telepath stepped out of the study at the end of the hallway. As usual, she was scantily clad in an all white ensemble that must've been inspired by some bondage porno film.
"Emma...you look good."
She crossed her arms and looked him up and down, "And you look...well...like you. What are you doing here?"
"I need your help."
Emma smirked, "Wow! That takes balls. After the shit you pulled on me, you drag your sorry ass back here thinking I would help you? What are you smoking, Remy?"
Remy reached into his pocket and produced a thick wad of cash, "This motivate ya a little?"
She raised a brow and took a step forward. Remy playfully waved the stack in front of her face before she quickly snatched it away and ran her fingers over the bills.
When she looked back up at him, she was a lot more cooperative, "What is it you need my help with?"
"Well, I got this girl...Marie...I want you to do a readin' on. I want you to tell her as much as you can about her past and her powers...but don't say a word if you see anything about a guy named Wolverine or Logan..."
Emma rolled her eyes before tucking the cash into her bra, "I shoulda known this was about a girl. The only things that motivate you to do anything is either your wallet or your dick."
"Oh baby, you know me so well...do we have a deal?"
She nodded and put her hands on her hips, "Bring her in."
Remy rushed out to find Marie pacing around the car, "Alright Belle...she's agreed to help ya."
He led her into the house where Emma met her with a polite, but cold smile, "Hello...Marie, is it?"
Marie nodded, "Thanks for seein' me at such short notice."
"Nonsense. Remy is an old friend. I'm glad to help. Now..." Emma led them into the study, where she guided Marie into a chair and raised her hands to hover over either side of her head, "...this isn't going to hurt. Just relax...OK?"
Marie nodded and closed her eyes as Emma became to attempt to access every available memory Marie had to offer...which wasn't much.
Within a few minutes, she was done and let out a breath. She didn't see a lot, but what she did see contained quick flashes of the "Logan" guy Remy had asked her not to mention.
"Well Marie...I got good news and bad news. Which do ya want first?"
Marie let out a breath, "Bad."
"I don't see many memories and what I do see is badly fragmented. I know you were on 3 Mile Island looking for a friend, but I can't tell who. I don't see anything about families, friends, or significant others...but the good news is, I do know about your powers. You're an absorber. What that means is, if you touch someone, you take on their life force. With regular humans, you could easily kill them and take on their personalities or thoughts. With mutants, you take on their powers. It seems you've picked up a few gifts in you time."
"Like what?" asked Marie curiously.
Emma plopped down on the couch, "Speed, strength, agility and, most importantly, a healing factor which allows you to heal from virtually any injury and significantly slows your aging. Now, since the healing factor you possess isn't natural to your body, I'm not sure how it's going to affect your aging."
Remy stood, "That it?"
Emma glanced at Remy and briefly glared, "That's the jist of it..."
After they left Emma's place, they rode back to Remy's apartment in silence. When they parked, Remy turned to Marie, "I'm sorry-"
Marie cut him off, "Don't be. You tried...and I thank you for that. Not a lot of people would be willin' to help a basket case like me."
Remy gently flicked her chocolate brown hair out of her eyes, "You ain't no basket case, belle...you're beautiful."
She blushed slightly before clearing her throat and getting out of the car, successfully ending the "moment" they were sharing.
Twenty four hours after Logan woke up on the strange island, he sat in a seedy bar, spending fifty of the two hundred dollars he had in his pocket on shot after shot of "the strongest shit you've got". As he downed his 11th shot, he noticed the bar tender staring at him.
"Got a problem, bub?"
The tender cleared his throat, "You're drinkin' cheap whiskey like it's water. Most men would have to be peeled off the floor by the third shot."
Logan stood up and looked around, "There a bus station or somethin' around here?"
The bar tender nodded, "Yep. Just across the street. They run once a day in the evening...heading west. The line this one runs on ends somewhere outside of Chicago."
Logan grunted a "thanks" before heading across the street to the tiny general store. The middle aged woman who worked behind the counter smiled at him. Logan watched as she straightened upon his arrival. Giving her a second look, he realized she would have been pretty...if she didn't wear so much make up and have hair that she teased to the point where it stood a full foot on top of her head.
"What can I do ya for, hon?"
He reached into his pocket and grabbed the wad of cash, "How much for a bus ticket to Chicago?"
"That'll be $300."
Logan cringed slightly and cursed, "Shit...know of any place around here that I can make some quick cash?"
The woman raised an eyebrow, "I could give you a discount..."
He narrowed his eyes, "Is that so?"
She nodded and leaned over the counter, squeezing her breasts together slightly. An internal battle erupted within Logan's head. He wasn't sure if he was a man with morals...he wasn't sure if he had honor...or even a wife for that matter..but he did know is that he needed to get the hell outta dodge.
Just as he was about to give his answer, an overweight man walked to the counter from the back of the store, "Muriel, what are you doin'? You're supposed to be coverin' at the diner!"
The fat man shooed "Muriel" away after some protest, then turned to Logan, "What can I help you with?"
"I was...I was just wondering if you knew of a way I could make some quick cash. Got any odd jobs or anything? I need a bus ticket outta here."
The man thought for a second, "Hmmm...quick cash...quick cash...oh! There's this bar at the edge of town where they have fightin' every Thursday and Saturday night...like a cage fightin' place. You look like the type of guy who might be able to handle himself in the ring. I hear you can make a thousand bucks a night if you win a fight there."
Logan took down the address of the bar and thanked the man. As he walked out of the store, he breathed a sigh of relief. He may not be sure about his own morals just yet, but he knew he wasn't prepared to have sex for money...but fighting settled with him just fine.
That night, he found himself in the cage, being announced as "The Wolverine". He figured it would be a more appropriate name than what his supposed "friends" called him.
Who were these friends?
Did he have a family?
Would they try to find him?
Did anyone give a damn that he was missing?
The roar of the crowd snapped him back to attention. Not surprisingly, his natural instincts made him an extremely effective fighter. He easily put down his opponent and collected almost $2000 in winnings before checking into a motel and catching a bus the next day. At every stop, he decided to get out to see if there was a cage fighting venue around. By the time he got to Chicago, he had collected $4200.
He bought a beat up old truck and set off on the open road, stopping in remote towns to perform odd jobs and fight in the cage fighting circuit.
For years, he would wander aimlessly, fighting like an animal and hopping from town to town.
Virtually every time he stepped into a bar, the waitresses tripped over themselves in an effort to impress him. For some reason, Logan instinctively preferred young brunettes.
Despite his numerous liasons, he'd always return to an empty hotel room.
Ever since waking up on the island, he felt incomplete...almost as if he had a phantom limb. In the dead of night, he would lay in bed, thinking about his past...wondering if someone out there was missing him...
Three months after Remy brought Marie to New Orleans to stay with him, she was working a job as a waitress in a restaurant in the French Quarter. Remy had helped her land the job since the owner of the restaurant had recently lost a card game to Remy and owed him upwards of $2000.
They alternated between taking turns sleeping on the couch and bed, much to Remy's dismay. He had hoped to break her down a little by now, but she remained wary of his advances.
Remy would flirt relentlessly and drop various hints concerning his attraction toward her, but every advance was met with obliviousness from Marie, who seemed completely preoccupied with raising enough money to head back up north in a futile effort to find out more about her past.
He'd even gone so far as to "accidentally" pop in on her when she was in the shower.
Instead of squealing and immediately making an effort to cover up, as most girls would have done, she put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow before saying, "Do you mind?"
After a quick apology, Remy vacated the bathroom. As soon as the door was shut, he smiled to himself. The vision of her wet, naked body permanently imprinted on his brain.
From that moment on, Remy's desire to possess her took on a mind of its own.
Review please! A reunion WILL happen eventually! Just be patient with me!