Ugghh, I don't own anything. Really, if I did, why would I be publishing on fanfiction if I could make money off of this?
The Paths We Tread
Chapter 2
Once again, the buzzing. Remy bolted up, his neck stiff. His mind immediately went to the new girl and his thoughts once again swirled with curiosity. He wondered if he would be able to see her before the morning training.
As with every other morning, the trainees were herded to the various training rooms. Remy searched about for her. He caught a glimpse, but she was far down the line and entering her first session. Remy felt a twist of pity and concern in his stomach. The first time was always the worst: they didn't take it easy on someone just because they were new, and if you weren't expecting what was coming you usually came out injured or unconscious. He hoped that she could be strong, for her own sake.
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Rogue fell to her knees, her little hands barely able to support her already light body. She was so beaten down she couldn't move in the slightest. She could feel the aching bruises, cuts, and even several stinging burns setting flames in her nerves. Strangled sobs choked her as sweat dripped down her nose.
Above her the Supreme Hydra observed one of the newest charges. Yes, despite the annoyance this girl could cause, she was well pleased with the outcome. They had been told of the strength and ability this girl would grow to have. They also knew of something else about her, something of infinite more importance to them. Regretably, this factor would not come into play for several years yet so for now they would have to be content with her physical training and her development in the operative field.
She turned to one of the training specialists. "She shows great promise, just as the white haired girl has. Put them both on the advanced training plan with the two boys." With that Viper left the observation deck. She was here to observe how well this operation was running. It, like the girl, held promise, but she needed results for her support. For now, she was willing to with hold any immediate descisions, but there was another program in progress that had her particular interest. Whether this immediate operation would continue would depend on the success of the other.
Rogue was led to eat after she had somewhat recovered. The room was very nearly empty, most of the operatives having already finished their sessions and meals. She saw Kayla, and aside from her there were only two boys remaining. Rogue recognized them: one with dark hair that curled slightly around his ears and over his blue eyes, and the other with a mop of auburn hair that hung in his face in casual disarray. His eyes flickered immediately to her when she walked in. She was still captivated by them: red irises burning like flames on the coal black backgrounds.
She went to join Kayla and began to cram her food. Her gaze would flicker periodically to the boys, who had their heads bent together and were whispering rapidly. Occasionally the one with the red eyes would look her way again and she would stare down at her meal. When she lifted her head again, he had risen and was beginning to make his way to where she and Kayla sat. Rogue's breath caught. What could he possibly want?
Before he reached them the signal went off that it was time to work. The boy's face fell into a pout as he threw her a glance of frustrated disappointment. What was that about? There was no time to think much on it as they were led to another hellish day. Rogue hardly caught a breath the entire day. They drilled her in gymnastics, karate, and all types of fighting. There would occasionally be times when she would learn things she had been practicing at that school Irene had sent her to in that month she had been with her. There was reading, math, and writing. Though that was more of copying handwritten letters and signatures. Rogue wondered why on earth would they make her do something like that.
When she had entered her cell after an endless day Rogue sank to the bed thinking. She had never known her real family. She had switched through different foster homes even so young, but something about her kept making those people return her to the orphanage. Then one day, a new woman had come for her, who called herself Raven Darkholme. Rogue had been nervous around her despite her outwardly friendly appearance. The woman had taken her out for ice cream and tried to get her to open up; but Rogue stayed as tight as a clam. Even though the woman acted kindly, something didn't seem right, like the woman was sizing her up and expecting her to do something strange any moment. Rogue remained stoic though, and at the end of the day Raven had taken her to Irene. She told the girl that Irene would take care of Rogue, and Raven would come to visit when she could. Rogue had nodded and Raven had left her there.
She hadn't seen Raven again, not before she was taken. She wondered if she was looking for her. Probably not, she was most likely just as the other people had been, who would leave her if they found something they didn't like about Rogue.
Strangely, Rogue felt almost a naïve gratitude to these people who had taken her. They may not be nice, but at least someone wanted her in some way. Rogue layed her head down and began to drift to sleep.
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Remy had been planning this all day. The cut on his forehead was proof of his preoccupation during weapons training. As soon as he was returned to his cell that night, he set to work. After all, he had only ten minutes. When he was sure the guards had left the hallway, he took the small bag that containing what clothes they gave them and his pillow. Hurriedly he stuffed them under his blanket, adjusting them to look like a small sleeping body. Then using the one chair in the room, he stood on tiptoe to reach the security camera. Using one of his tools that he had snuck down his shirt after training, he pried the back of the camera open and began to adjust the wires. At last he got the result he wanted. A small red light that signaled that it was recording blinked on and then off again. A yellow light came on. He had recorded several seconds of the room at large (with him off screen), and now that recorded footage was paused. If anyone were to look at the footage of his room on security, all they would see was 'him' sleeping in bed.
Remy felt quite accomplished as he hopped down from his chair. Now all he had to do is wait and pretend to sleep as the guards made their secondary rounds and he was golden.
When the last room checks had been performed he dragged his bed beneath the vent and placed the chair on top. Wobbling about to retain his balance, he managed to pry the vent railing from the opening. It nearly dropped from his hands, it was a lot heavier than he had assumed. He caught it just in time and laid it on the bed as he clambered up into the air shaft. It was chilly but large enough for him to stand halfway.
He crept along the vent, peering down through the holes. He hoped the girl was on this side of the hall. At last he reached his destination. Peering down he could see the two-toned hair spread on the pillow.
"Psst." The girl didn't stir. He tried again, hoping the cameras didn't have audio. "Psst!"
Her eyes flew open and darted about trying to figure out who was calling. She was about to sit up when he hissed down to her. "Don' sit up. I'm up he'."
Her gaze went up and widened as she saw two red eyes glowing down on her.
"Who are you? How'd y'all get up there?"
The vent clattered and a messy head of auburn hair poked out. Up closer like this, despite his hanging upside down from the ceiling, she could see the weariness and hopelessnes that lined every child's face here. For the moment though, there was an excitement and curiosity that seemed, so, right on his face. He must have looked like that quite often before he came to be here.
He grinned, flashing her his teeth. "Bonsoir chere."
She didn't know what to say. A boy was hanging his head into her room as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and she didn't even know who he was.
She asked again. "Who are ya?"
"Name's Remy."
She waited expectantly but there was only silence. "That's it?"
"Should dere be more?" His face scrunched up in confusion.
"Ah dunno. It's just that the people Ah used ta meet at the orphanage would always have two names. Ah thought everybahdy had two names."
"Well chere, I don'." He pointed out as if he were telling her what two and two equaled.
"Ah know! It was just funny. Yo' kinda like Peter Pan."
Remy's head poked down a little farther. The warm glow in his eyes seemed pleasant, though it was strange. Much nicer than the glare of the industrial lights that were used in the day.
"Who's Peter Pan? An' what kind o' name is dat?"
Rogue scowled. "It's da name of a boy in a story Irene was readin' ta me before…" she trailed off.
"Well, what's it about?" He seemed genuinely curious. Truth be told, Remy had never heard bedtime stories or fairy tales growing up on the streets, and then here. Fagan had told some rather gruesome stories of his old days in the guild that many of the boys had hoped to join in the future, but that was the extent of his storyteller ability.
Rogue scrunched her brow. She had only half been paying attention whenever Irene had brought out the small green book, but she remembered the general plot of the story. "It's about a boy who lived in a magical place called Nevahland, an' he nevah grew up. He had lots of adventahs with a fairy named Tinkahbell an' some lost boys. They was always tormentin' pahrates, an' playin' with the indians an' stuff lahke that. Peter could fly too, an' one day he flew ta our world. But he lost his shadow in a house he was a pryin' in one naght an' he went back ta get it. He met a girl named Wendy an' her brothers, who he took back ta Nevahland an' had even more adventures."
Remy seemed intrigued. "Sounds like fun. Wish I could do stuff like dat; but even if I could, wouldn't be much use in he'." The lost look returned as his eyes dulled slightly. "What happened after, wit' him an' de fille?"
"Ah don' know. Irene didn't get any farther than that. Ah jest know they went on more adventures. She was teachin' me ta read mahself." His face drooped in disappointment. Remy now looked uncannily like a sorrowful puppy. Then it brightened slightly.
"Well, if we evah leave he', maybe cherie could read it ta Remy?" His demon eyes gleamed with such boyish hopefulness that Rogue smiled, her baby round cheeks framing her sparkling eyes.
"Sho' Remy. Maybe one day, but Ah'd hafta learn ta read bettah mahself." There was a companionable silence for a moment as the two young souls considered that day to come, before Remy spoke again.
"Remy don' know yo' name fille." In an instant her expression sealed like a locked door.
"Ah don' use mah name no more, but y'all can call me Rogue."
"Now dat is a funny name. What?" he asked as the Rogue glared up at him. Her fiery temper had been triggered and she was tempted to stand up from lying on her bed and attempt to swat him. She began to shift but Remy ducked back and hissed at her again.
"A'right, je suis desole! Don' get up o' da camera will see ya. I ain't comin' all da way ovah he' for un fillette ta get Remy caught."
Rogue settled back again, slightly abashed. He had irritated her, but she didn't want this funny and friendly boy to go away. The cold darkness frightened her and the warm glow of his eyes comforted her.
"Ah'm sorreh Remy. Jest don' make fun o' my name."
"Bien Rogue. Perdon Remy."
"It's okay; but, why did ya come here Remy. Yo' gonna be in a lotta trouble if they find ya here."
"I saw petite wit' de Supreme Lady, what's 'er name, an' Remy wanted to meet 'er. Welcome her ta da place."
Rogue sighed. "It's not a nahce place. How'd y'all get here? Aren't yo' momma and daddy lookin' fo' ya?"
Remy shook his head, flicking his hair from his eyes. "Remy don' got no mere o' pere. He was livin' on de streets when dey found him. No one's missin' Remy."
Rogue was startled. Even she who had seen numerous foster homes and orphanages had at least always had a roof over her head and food in her stomach. Remy hadn't even had that. "What happened to 'em?"
"Don' know. Fagan told me dat dey dropped me at da hospital cause ma eyes scared 'em. T'ought dey was too weird."
"Ah'm sorry Remy."
"Hein, don' be. Remy never knew 'em, so dere's nothin' ta be sorry 'bout. What 'bout you chere? Is dis Irene yo' mere?"
Rogue closed her eyes. "Nah, Irene wasn't mah momma. Ah lived with 'er for a little while cause she was takin' care o' me for a lady named Raven. But den da scary people came ta take me away. Ah don' know what happened ta Irene."
Remy didn't have the heart to divulge what he was sure had happened to her. The crying and wailing that came from the new abductees' rooms was enough to tell him that there was no hope of them ever finding their families again, whether they ever left this place or not. Rogue continued, seeming almost to be speaking to herself instead of him.
"Nevah really had a real home, 'cept with Irene. Just a bunch o' foster homes and orphanages. Last one was in Caldecott county Mississippi. Small town, but kinda nice. Ah nevah did know why those people didn't lahke me." Her tone was sad as she peered up at him. "Where are ya from?"
Remy grinned at the memories of the only city he could ever call his as he replied almost proudly. "N'Awlins Louisiana. Best place in de world. 'Specially 'round Mardi Gras."
"Really? What's it lahke?"
So Remy told her of what he could remember of his city. Even his six year old memories and younger were vibrant and colorful with his tales of the Crescent City. He told her of the delicious Cajun food, the old style houses and gardens, of the hauntingly beautiful graveyards that had been there since the city was founded that would lay pale and mysterious beneath a summer moon. Remy described Mardi Gras: the floats of every color, people in masks and costumes, jazz music ringing along Bourbon Street. Even if the streets and backalleys were all he had known, he only recalled the good of what he had left behind. As he talked, the constricting pain in his chest told him how much he missed his home.
Rogue listened to him as he avidly described New Orleans. She began to feel a longing to see the place herself as he went on, and she settled in, content to listen to whatever he could tell.
At last a tremendous yawn escaped her shell-pink lips and Remy noticed. He looked sheepish.
"Desole Rogue. Remy forgot you'd be worn out after de first day. It's 'bout time I headed back. Bonne nuit." He began to pull the vent railing back into place.
"Wait!" Rogue whisper-yelled. His head appeared again, cocked to the side in inquiry. Rogue paused. "Remy, are we friends?"
He smiled quite charmingly. "Sho' Rogue. We can be amis."
She had one more thing to say. "If we evah get out, an' Ah read ya Peter Pan, will ya show me N'Awlins?"
He bobbed his head in immediate assent. "Course I will. I'll be wantin' ta see it myself. Remy show his ami de whole city." Rogue beamed.
"Thank ya Remy. G'night."
"Au revoir mon ami. Beaux reves." With that, his shaggy head disappeared from view and silence stole over the room.
Rogue settled beneath her blanket, a smile creeping over her lips. Somehow, the darkness didn't seem so threatening anymore. Her eyes closed, her mind settling on a pair of ruby and black eyes. "Friend." She thought as a gentle sleep caressed her into slumber.
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Viper sat in her luxurious room, leafing carelessly through the files of all their child operatives. Most of them she glossed over with hardly a double take, while others would hold her interest for longer. Several select few captured her attention for a few minutes at a time. She was studying one of these intently at the moment. Her green lips curved in pleasure; this one held great potential, but as she looked down the long sheets of text her frown of frustration returned. She dropped the file with a snort of exasperation.
"Can't anything come without a price? At this rate HYDRA will never get out of this dump." Just as she thought this, her private phone rang. She answered it.
"Dr. Ristman, I have been expecting your call. I was wondering if your work had you so captivated that you would have forgotten to send me the current status update on our newest project."
The uncertain voice of another woman came over the line. It spoke for some time as Viper listened, growing more pleased as she learned more and more. At last the other voice stopped and waited expectantly.
"Very good. I'm sure your work will speak for itself Dr. Ristman. I will leave tonight, and you shall expect me by ten tomorrow at latest. I hope that what you have to show me lives up to my expectations." With that she ended the call and hit a buzzer on the table beside her. One of her personal assistants appeared in the room, awaiting her orders.
"Prepare my craft for immediate departure. Dr. Ristman is expecting my presence to oversee the progress of Project X-23."
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A/N: sorry if these chapters seem a little slow. I'm just trying to get things set up for the bigger story line right now. For any ROMY fans or adventure lovers, hang in with me cause I'm getting there.
French words
Bonsoir chere – good evening dear/darling
Fille – girl
Fillette – little girl
Je suis desole – I'm sorry
Bien – alright
Perdon – pardon
Petite – little one
Mere – mother
Pere – father
Hein – eh/huh
Bonne niut – good night
Au revoir mon ami – goodbye my friend
Beaux reves – sweet dreams