MAGNETIC ATTRACTION

Part Thirty-Four

** authors note: leaving a warning here that there may be triggers ahead for anyone sensitive to the mention of incest. Probably just gave major spoilers for the chapter, but hopefully it's still enjoyable nonetheless. 3

Rogue's day seemed to go by in a wild rush of lectures and rehearsals, all of which were a struggle to focus on thanks to being so preoccupied with the events of the night previous. Wanda's attempted suicide stayed in her thoughts and her discussion with Remy that morning kept flashing back to her, bringing a heat to her cheeks and a smile that she would find hard to suppress.

There was unhappiness to contend with, and their was unhappiness too, and the both conflicted with each other, thoughts fighting with each other to be at the forefront of her mind, making her feel guilty and anxious.

It seemed quite unfair to her that she should feel guilty about being happy. She wondered if it was due to having very little experience of happiness, or if it was her sympathy for Wanda, who despite cruel behaviour, was exceptionally disturbed. Perhaps it was both, Rogue decided. Either way, it was unfair to be guilty about happiness when a girl might lay dying in hospital, a victim of her own unhappiness.

Life's never been fair, she thought. She could have been me...Ah could have let my powers disease my mind, Ah could have ended up just like her...Ah still could, she realised miserably.

Her cramps gnawed at her all day like a giant hungry rat trying to eat its way through her, and she had to try and ignore them as she carried out her rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet. Her professor was happier with her acting today, and even commented that it seemed to him like she was finally understanding the role. Again, Rogue felt the guilt eat at her, her day was going very well, she'd been praised for her performance and earlier that morning her professor had been impressed with her interpretation of a book she'd been reading for her English class.

At lunch, she spied Scott Summers and Jean Grey in the cafeteria, but did not approach and kept her distance. She bought a sandwich and went to eat it in a quiet corner out of the way where she hoped she wouldn't be noticed.

It was odd. She wasn't quite as mad as she had been at Scott any more, and her feelings for him seemed a distant memory. Rogue began to wonder at what point her feelings for Scott had actually stopped being an issue. When had it stopped hurting? For that matter...why she had ever felt anything for him at all in that way?

Maybe Ah should go speak to him, try to get over this stupid argument. It's getting old. We used to be friends, shouldn't that mean something? She wondered. She glanced over her shoulder briefly at Scott and Jean, them locked in a deep discussion about something, his face grim as usual. But he'd probably be too mad at me to accept an apology after the way Ah spoke to him, Rogue realised as she turned her attention back to her food and tried to focus on eating her sandwich.

Maybe now isn't the right time to be thinking about this...if Ah should be thinkin' about anyone, it's Wanda. Maybe Ah should try to call Magneto and see if there's any news. Would that be wrong? Just to make sure everything is okay? She glanced at her cellphone which was sitting on the table next to her sandwich wrapper. Would he even want to speak to anyone right now? Would it be ill advised?

He probably doesn't know Ah know, Rogue decided. Ah'm probably not supposed to know...he'd be upset. Ah shouldn't call...he'd be too stressed out to talk about it anyway. It's better to wait until he decides to come home and tell us, or to let us know if she's all right, Rogue thought. She glanced towards Scott and Jean again, who were still locked in discussion. From far away she was almost convinced Scott glanced towards her from behind his glasses, it was hard to tell but it had seemed that way.

God, just go and speak to him and get this stupid thing out of the way, part of her advised herself. The other part of her still slightly stinging from previous communications with him. She was convinced he may ask her to return home again and she didn't want to have that argument. What would they talk about? The weather? Wolverine's latest altercations with Sabretooth? The Danger Room?

Lets face it, you severed ties and now you don't know how to talk to either of them, Rogue thought. She turned her back to them and went back to eating her French fries, trying to clear her mind.

The thought of Remy LeBeau at the table that morning rushed back to her, as it had constantly done so through since she'd left him sitting there. The embarrassment, the odd sense almost of shame, of feeling almost dirty that he had her touch him right there beneath the table. At the same time, regardless of feeling strangely dirty and ashamed, she also felt oddly excited by it, even aroused. It was the semblance of a sexual relationship that she never thought she would have been able to have with anyone.

Maybe it's too soon...we only just thought about getting together...maybe we should try to keep away from that? Maybe we should just wait until Ah get control, She thought as she twirled her straw around her cup of orange soda. We can still hang out...we can still hold hands, that's somethin' right? She wondered.

The thought of him and that look on his face two nights ago when he'd climaxed was so fresh in her memory. She'd never imagined feeling so oddly powerful as she had at that moment with her hand on him, never imagined feeing so triumphant as she had when he'd moaned in those final seconds. She'd never understood why any girl would want to do anything sexually to another person without being compensated in return until she'd seen that look on Remy LeBeau's handsome face.

Giving him exactly what he'd needed at that moment left Rogue with an odd sense of bliss she'd felt some time afterwards, a strange and almost smug sense of well being that came with knowing she'd taken care of his need. And she wanted to see that look on his face again.

He was reserved...probably uptight, she decided. Ah could tell...he was holding back, he didn't want to freak me out. The thought had crossed her mind when she'd been rubbing him, she'd expected more of a performance on his part, more moaning, more gasping, more instruction. Not that she was dissatisfied or disappointed with the outcome but it wasn't as she'd expected it to be.

Next time, it'll be different...better.

But when was the next time going to be? Was it too soon already? That very morning she'd almost thought it was the right time but he'd shrugged off the idea as soon as she'd mentioned it.

He has much more patience than Ah thought he did, she thought as she chewed her sandwich. It occurred to her that regardless of his patience, and regardless of his being able to abstain for a week, he was still going to need to be taken care of, and the best way to keep him from going astray was to find ways to do that for him.

Gotta get creative, she realised. At least until Ah have control...gotta find a way to make him happy...find a way to do things for him that are better than the things she did.

Of course, being creative meant also learning to get over her shyness, and that was perhaps a larger issue than the problem of her powers. Ah already saw him naked...already got him off, had his stuff on me...should Ah still be so embarrassed?

"Rogue..."

Hearing Scott Summer's voice at her back, Rogue felt somewhat deflated. Ah didn't even have time to think about what to say, she thought, she took a quick sip of her ice cold soda and held it in her mouth for a few moments hoping it would help to cool the hot flush of her cheeks as she'd thought about Remy LeBeau. She pretended she hadn't heard him and that she'd been reading the book she'd had set out on the table so she had this moment to prepare.

"Rogue?" said Scott again, this time a little louder.

Rogue drew her breath to turn and look at he and Jean who were standing there at the back of her chair, their fingers entwined. "Hi," Rogue replied, surprising herself by how genuinely happy she sounded to see them.

"We just...thought we'd say hi, since...it's been a while," Scott explained, sounding strained. He was still feeling off about the way she'd left things at the cafe and she could see it in his grim face. She supposed she should try to just let bygones be bygones.

"What's up?" Rogue tried to maintain her cheery tone.

"You didn't speak to us at Kitty's party," Jean spoke up, "in fact...you were gone before we'd had the chance to talk."

"Ah wasn't feelin' well," Rogue lied, although she supposed her mental anguish somewhat qualified as not feeling well in a sense.

"Yeah, we heard about your accident," Scott admitted, "we were worried. We wanted to visit but...Logan wouldn't allow it."

"Oh," said Rogue.

"How are you? Are you healed?" Jean asked, sounding concerned.

"Ah'm fine," Rogue replied. She wondered how much about the accident they'd heard of. She wished no one had known at all. "Totally healed up, not even a scar...although I have these weird little dots where the stitches were..."

Go on, Scott, go on, she thought at him. Tell me that you told me so, you know you want to say it, you know you've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to be right. Come on, you know you want to point out that you said Ah'd get hurt and it actually happened and that you were right and Ah was wrong.

But Scott didn't say any such thing to her. He stood there cool and composed, holding his girlfriend's hand.

"If everything is going wrong with the Acolytes..." Scott tried, he paused, "you know you can always come home...no hard feelings..."

"Ah know that," Rogue sighed, "but...right now...things are just...the place isn't without its problems, Ah'll admit, but...it has it's good points...and things are fine there."

"No one is giving you a hard time?" Jean asked quietly.

Not unless you count Wanda, thought Rogue, wondering if Jean would pick up on it. "No...everythin' is fine. Better than fine..." she wondered if it would be wise to tell him about her dating Remy LeBeau yet. She was sure he wouldn't take this well. "Ah'm happy there."

"We're glad to hear it," said Jean, she nudged Scott in the ribs.

"As...long as you're happy...that's the main thing," Scott admitted, he looked down to the floor, his expression slightly clouded.

"Ah am," she promised, thinking that perhaps it could be true.

"But...if you ever want to come home...you know you're always welcome," Scott said again, "Always."

"Ah know that," Rogue nodded, "but...it's not really home any more. But...if anything changes...Ah know where to turn..." she reached out her hand to him and looked him as straight in the eye as she thought she could considering he was wearing red glasses.

Unsure, Scott reached out to shake her hand. It was a silent agreement between him. He wouldn't ask again, and she wouldn't go through the argument again. They were done.

Remy had been in the middle of his daily one-hundred sit ups when his phone begun to ring. It was almost two pm, and he'd waited all day for that call so much that he'd almost given up hope that there would be any calls.

Pushinhg himself up awkwardly trying not to put any pressure on his injured wrist, he wiped the sweat from his brow with the front of his t-shirt and grabbed the phone to see the caller idea showing up as 'boss'.

"Hello," he said, after hitting answer, he drew his breath and waited for a response.

Magneto was silent for a moment, and so Remy immediately feared the worst. Please don't tell me she died. I don't like the girl, and I'm pissed at her right now, but I don't want her to die.

Speaking up, he cleared his throat and said, "how's Wanda?"

"She is in intensive care."

Remy felt the strangest sense of relief that at least she wasn't dead. But still, intensive care still wasn't out of the woods. Intensive care was a serious matter.

"Her condition is still considered still critical," Magneto responded after a moment, he took a deep breath. "It may be some time before I will be able to return."

"What are they doing for her? She she comfortable? Is she awake?"

"She is unconscious, presently," said Magneto unhappily, "the doctors are currently testing for any possible lasting damage that may have occurred."

"What kind of damage do they expect?" Remy worked up the nerve to ask.

"With an overdose of this magnitude, liver and kidney damage are not uncommon," said Magneto, sounding quite strange. It was the most emotional he'd ever heard the man sound since having met him. It made him too human to Remy, and too hard to not feel sorry for.

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Remy tried to sound positive, but couldn't even convince himself of this.

"Pietro is on his way home now in a cab. He left twenty minutes ago, so he should be with you fairly soon."

"Is he all right?"

"As well as to be expected," said Magneto softly, "he is upset, so please tread carefully. That is all I ask."

"You need me to do anything for him?" asked Remy, wiping the sweat from his neck.

"Anything that will help him calm down would be greatly appreciated. He is under extreme stress."

"Okay," Remy nodded, "I'll...do what I can."

How do I do that? Remy pondered. What do you do for someone under severe stress? I can't even handle my own stress.

"I will call you with any further news," Magneto responded, and without even saying so much as a simple goodbye, he hung up the phone.

Remy put the phone down and sighed. This family gives me more trouble than it's worth, he thought. He went outside to find out if Lance was still out there working on Rogue's car, and to wait on the cab that would be no doubt soon to arrive with Pietro inside.

Lance was there all right, still attempting to get Rogue's car to work again. He seemed frustrated as he moved to the drivers side and leaned in, pressing down on the brake pedal with his hand.

"Hey, how's the car coming along?" Remy asked as he approached.

"I think the brake is fucked or something," said Lance, "like it's been tampered with."

Wouldn't surprise me, thought Remy in disgust, "what'd you mean?"

"Try for yourself," Lance gestured to the brake pedal.

Leaning in, Remy pushed his hand down hard against the brake. It barely budged.

"What the hell-?"

"It's like it's jammed or been wedged or something. Whoever did this wasn't fucking around," Lance said. "They really wanted to make sure no one was gonna drive this again."

Remy made a face. Yes, Wanda did it, and she definitely didn't want Rogue drivin' that car. She wanted to make sure the girl never got home. "Is this fixable?"

"Probably," Lance shrugged, "once I figure out what's going on. You hear from boss man yet?" he asked.

Remy had told Lance and Tabitha the same lies he'd told Piotr and Rogue that morning. That Wanda was in hospital feeling ill. He hadn't chosen to elaborate any further at this time. It was up to Magneto, Pietro or Wanda herself to make that call whether they wanted the others to know. Remy wasn't going to announce it for them. It was a family matter, and the only reason he had thought to tell Rogue the truth was that she had already seemed to suspect the truth judging by her behaviour the night before.

"She's still feelin' pretty rough, so they're keeping her in for observation," Remy replied, he spied a cab coming up the hill and he moved to open the main gates to the yard so the cab could drive right in and turn.

Remy wasn't surprised to see Pietro looking so rough as he climbed out of the cab and paid the driver. The boy looked as if he hadn't slept for several nights, and his eyes were red as if he'd been crying. His clothes were slightly coffee stained, and were the clothes he'd worn the day before that he'd just been too lazy to change from when going to bed. Remy wondered if he would even bother to change his clothes now.

"Hey man," said Lance, "how's Wanda?"

Pietro passed by them slowly, and only replied with "don't want to talk about it," in a very robotic almost trace-like tone.

Remy watched the boy go inside, and he only followed to the door and stared in as Pietro crossed the room and stood there in the middle of the room for a moment looking at the place, his expression blank. Then without reason, the boy punched a part of the already broken panel wall that had been damaged from Wanda's attack that Saturday night.

Wincing, Remy stood there was the boy began to yell in fury as he kicked the wall, then pushed over the nearest table angrily. He kicked over a power tool, swept his hands over the nearby counter and threw all the screwdrivers, hammers and boxes of nails to the floor. Even from so far away, Remy could see the distress, he could see the boy wanted to cry but was holding back from doing so.

Temper seems to be a trait in that family, thought Remy dully. He pushed the door shut slowly and was glad that Lance hadn't seemed to hear. He moved to Lance and asked quietly under his breath, "got any weed?"

Lance stared at him blankly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "What?"

"Do you? Have any weed here? A stash of it hidden?" Remy asked hopefully, feeling awful for even having to ask.

"Is this a trick question?" Lance asked, "is this where you ask me if I have any weed then I answer, then you go report me to Magneto and get me yelled at?"

"No," Remy said, "if you happen to have it this time, I can be willing to let it slide."

"Man..." Lance looked conflicted.

"Seriously," Remy assured, "this time, I'm not gonna make a scene. I won't ask where you got it, I won't get up in your face about you having it. I just want it."

Lance gave a sigh, "There's a bag at the bottom of the porn magazine box under my bed."

Remy nodded, and went to retrieve it, noting that now Pietro was sitting on the floor, his head in his arms, knees up to his chest. I know he's a jerk, but this must be devastating, Remy thought. The bag of weed was exactly where Lance had said it would be, at the very bottom of a box of some explicit men's magazines. Remy sat there at the bottom of Lance's unmade bed in the untidy room, attempting to as best he could roll a joint which was something he'd never been able to do well.

You'd have been much better at this if you rolled your own cigarettes instead of buyin' them, Remy realised. After making the best version of a joint he could possibly (after having to dismantle the first four poor excuses he'd made) he clasped it in his hand, and went downstairs, Pietro was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall outside his father's office room door.

"Come with me," Remy urged.

Pietro looked away, "not in the mood," he responded, sniffing and wiping his nose on sleeve of his sweatshirt.

"Come on, the fresh air will do you good," Remy picked up Pietro's arm and hauled him up with very little resistance on the younger boy's part. Pietro seemed too tired, and far too weak to argue, and so he gave in. Together they left the warehouse, passing by Lance who looked mildly curious as they went off towards the back of the building and towards the woods.

They walked in silence, the air was bitter cold, but the rain was holding off for now. Their walk ended towards the clearing where the obstacle course was, and when they arrived, Remy sat down upon a log, reached into his pocket to retrieve his lighter, and he sparked up the joint he'd been holding in the fist of his injured arm up until this point.

Pietro stared at Remy, his expression one of disbelief. Remy could read his face, and it said you gave us shit about smoking weed and now you're lighting a joint up in front of me?!

"Go on," Remy held the lit joint up to him, "I won't hold it against you."

Sighing, Pietro accepted the drug, and at that moment, as wrong as Remy knew it was, it seemed to be the right thing. He wasn't sure else how to help the boy. Pietro wasn't going to accept comforting and kind words. And right now, the advice to man up and accept what'd happened wasn't going to help either. What he would accept was a gesture like this. That was all Remy could do. Pietro probably would have smoked the stuff regardless if it had been Remy offering it or not. Who's to say he wouldn't just go to Lance later and ask for the stuff anyway? Who's to say he doesn't have a bong in his room? Remy wondered.

I know I shouldn't encourage it, but in this condition, what else am I supposed to do for him? I'm not a therapist, or even his friend. I'm just the guy who happens to be a pain in his ass for the most part, thought Remy.

Pietro attempted to pass the joint to Remy after several minutes but Remy pushed his hand away.

"I don't do drugs," Remy responded quietly.

Frowning, Pietro held it out towards him again. For a moment, Remy tried to understand why it was important that he did. So that if Magneto found out, they could be both held accountable? No, that wasn't it. This was a gesture too. Be on common ground, he does it, you do it, you're equals.

Uneasy with the idea of this, Remy accepted and took a drag of the thing. It wasn't the first time he'd ever smoked the stuff, and he managed to take it without the coughing that Pietro was plagued with. He made a face at the taste of the stuff and passed it back to the boy.

"Never did like the taste of this stuff," Remy admitted, exhaling.

"I want to know why it happened," Pietro finally asked a few moments later, his eyes slightly glazed from the smoke. He didn't sound angry, in fact, all he did sound was sad.

"It happened because she's ill," Remy responded, accepting the joint for a second time, sighing as he looked down at the thing and shaking his head at himself. "You know that."

"What did you do?"

"It wasn't what I did," Remy responded, "it's what she did. She crossed the line."

"Yeah...she's...always doing that," Pietro looked down to the ground, his eyes seemed dark and angry for a moment. "If there's a line, doesn't matter how big it is, or how much she isn't meant to cross it, she'll cross it regardless. She can't not cross the line."

"Pretty much," Remy agreed.

"She was fine...sort of...when she first got out of that place," he admitted. Remy thought it strange how he referred to it as that place. As if it were too hard to say what the place had really been. "She was as crazy as squirrel in a bag of cactuses but she wasn't like this."

"But then?" Remy took a long drag of the joint, closed his eyes and held onto it for a moment before exhaling.

"It just got worse...didn't matter how much she got medicated or what therapists or psychiatrists my dad sent her to...she just got worse and worse," Pietro turned to look at Remy lazily, "you know the kind of...fucked up things...she does?"

"I do."

"She can't help it...it's impulse...somethin' about the mutation and the genes alterin' the way her mind works...makes her angry...makes her..." he rubbed the back of his neck. "Sexually promiscuous...she can't...help it..."

"What'd she do?" Remy asked carefully.

"We were fighting this one time and all of a sudden she just grabs my...you know..." Pietro looked down at his crotch, "I went nuts...I slapped her."

I wanted to do the same, Remy thought coldly.

"I know I'm not supposed to go around hittin' girls and all that shit," Pietro said quickly, sounding distressed, he spoke even more quickly now, "but what else could I do? It wasn't the first time she tried that kind of shit. Not just when she was trying to hurt me neither. Sometimes...she'd just...say stupid shit...like she thought it was funny..."

Remy felt immediately depressed hearing this, but he wasn't surprised, "I always...thought there was a reason you guys kind of drifted apart," he took another long drag and passed the joint back, shaking his head.

"She said to me once it wouldn't matter how related we are...she needed to be fucked...didn't care who from. And that I was her brother and that if I loved her I should just give her what she wanted...that she had all this experience now since she'd gotten out and she could do stuff that would make my head spin..." Pietro's hand was shaking as he took another draw from the joint, shakily, he passed the joint back. "It made me feel sick. It still makes me feel sick. She'd talk about how she'd blow me and swallow and let me do her in the ass...how she'd ride me like a fucking horse..." Pietro's voice cracked, and he swallowed, coughing a little afterwards. "That's my sister, man. She's not just my sister, she's my fucking twin. We shared a fucking womb for gods sake...how could she think of me like that...?"

Remy took another hit of the thing, because now it seemed rather pointless to not continue. Not when it seemed he was finally getting somewhere with Pietro, and not while they were being civil to each other. "It's like you said, she doesn't have control of this affliction..." he paused. Affliction. Is that a word? It sounds so weird.

"Why am I even telling you this?" Pietro sighed, rubbing his head tiredly.

"Because sometimes you just gotta say what bothers you, I guess," Remy shrugged.

Pietro snorted. Obviously it did bother him a great deal. The expression on his face was so tight and pulled that it spoke faster and louder than his words ever could. "The last time she tried anythin' was about a month and a half ago...she came in while I was in the shower...I didn't hear her come in," Pietro shook his head in disgust, "she grabbed me...she came in beside me and she was fucking naked and she grabbed me. My own sister grabbed my fucking dick...do you have any fucking idea how fucked up that is?"

Remy blinked, "I got some idea."

"I threw the towel over her and told her she was a fucking whore...I freaked out...I didn't know what else to do..." Pietro started laughing suddenly, almost hysterically. He took a moment to calm himself, then continued. "I didn't sleep for three days after that. I had to put a lock on my door because she used to come in my room at night and try to get me to do stuff with her. Now I'm scared to even try to shower alone in case she comes up in my business again so I always have to wait until someone is in the next stall before I go in there just so she won't come in. That's my sister, and she's like a stranger. You seen the things she does...goin' around flashin' her tits and wearin' no underwear and short skirts...not even caring if I'm her brother and I have to look at that shit."

The world seemed to ripple and sway a bit, the wind felt like the waves of an ocean lapping gently over Remy as he considered this. "Do...you think she's been the same way with your dad?"

"I...have absolutely no idea," Pietro gave a vague unhappily and inappropriate laugh, "I know he doesn't like being alone with her either...can't remember the last time he hugged her...or...even told her he gave a shit. She disgusts him..."

I can't blame him, thought Remy. She's a loose cannon and you can't stop a loose cannon...you can only move out of the way of it.

"I sometimes wonder if she's tried to the same things to Pete...he's never gave any indication, but she looks at him funny and he tries to keep away from her. And Lance. I saw her giving you those looks too. And I really hope to god she hasn't with Lance because he hasn't got the kind of..." Pietro trailed off trying to find the right words.

"Willpower?" Remy asked carefully.

"Yeah...that...he doesn't have that kind of willpower to...you know...not. He's a dog. He'd fuck her in a heartbeat...'cause Kitty isn't giving him jack shit."

"Oh," said Remy. He wasn't surprised, and he had to commend Kitty he supposed for keeping both feet on the floor in that respect.

"I can't believe it took a month for me to find out that you've been fucking my sister," Pietro shook his head angrily.

Remy rubbed the corner of his eye, "I didn't mean to get involved," he admitted, "stupid mistake...couldn't help myself. She's gorgeous...and she was offerin' herself up..." he sighed. "Longer things went on I got to realise maybe...maybe she just thinks that sex is the only way she can feel wanted. That maybe it's the only way to connect to anyone else."

"I should have been thankful you started fucking her...that's when she left me alone..." Pietro admitted with some bitterness. "But..."

"But..." Remy supposed, "she's your sister, and I'm an asshole, and you're still determined to protect her anyway."

"I can't help it," Pietro responded, "we're twins...we're connected. You know I sometimes...wonder if maybe it's my fault that she's the way she is..."

"How could it be your fault?"

"I read this website about twins once, and this psychiatrist claimed that twins are like two halves of the same person, that everything that one kid should have had, the traits, and personality, get split between the two...so that the twins end up like polar opposites..." he shrugged, "you look at us, do you see us as twins?"

"You're not identical twins," Remy reminded.

"No...but look at us? My hair is white, hers is black, her eyes are dark blue, mines are light...I got the easily controllable abilities, she got the fucking chaotic ones..." Pietro counted off.

"Your point is?"

"Maybe I got the sanity, and she got all the fucked up craziness?" Pietro shrugged.

"How could it be your fault then? Even if that theory wasn't horseshit, you still can't be in control of what genetics you got through sheer luck of being born..." he shrugged.

"Then how the hell did she get so fucked up?" Pietro asked in dismay, he stretched his legs out and admired his shoes, smiling a little at them despite the strange mood he seemed to be in.

Remy glanced up at the sky, a flock of birds passed by and they seemed much closer than they sounded to be. "I guess the combination of her powers and that place poisoned her mind."

"Poisoned...that's a nice way of putting it," Pietro uttered.

"Your dad thinks he can fix her..."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Pietro uttered, and took a drag from the joint after having to light it up again. It seemed he was determined to leave the conversation at that. The two spent several minutes finishing the thing off until it was done, and then sat in silence, enjoying the moments.

After what felt to be about fifteen minutes of sitting there in silence, Pietro finally got up unsteadily, "I think...I need to find somethin' to eat now," he swayed a little.

"You feel better?" asked Remy, he kept his voice low and soft, to try and sound as gentle as he humanly could with the guy who most of the time, he despised. In this case, he felt much less hatred for him than he normally would but Remy suspected that was the weed and not so much the bonding over Wanda's insanity.

"Yeah...in a fucked up way, I do," Pietro responded. He moved towards the direction of the warehouse, then paused and turned back to look at Remy and sighed, "thanks," and with that, he wandered off and disappeared through the woods.

Remy supposed he should go back too.

Remy took a slow walk, feeling unsteady and dizzy. The trees seemed to be reaching for him, to tickle him with their thin bare branches, and the shrubs seemed determined to trick him into tripping over. Regardless, he enjoyed the walk, and the deep haze he felt himself to be in.

When he eventually got to the warehouse he noted that Lance had given up on the car for the day, and that Piotr's van was back. This meant Rogue was home.

Inside, Lance and Pietro were talking in the main warehouse area, Lance thought something Lance had said was hilarious, but Lance seemed merely mystified as to what it was exactly.

Leaving Pietro to his slightly better mood (at least for the moment being), Remy headed towards Rogue's room, gripping the rail to steady himself, feeling quite off balance. Being high quite wasn't what he remembered it to be.

It was odd, how in this state, Rogue's walls seemed much brighter than they usually did, and the room seemed much longer. He tried to compose himself as best he could and stood at the door looking in at her as she sat there reading a book for college.

"Hiiii," he finally said, his voice slow and dripping sweet like thick honey.

Rogue looked up at him, a perfectly plucked eyebrow raised, "yeah, it certainly looks like you're high..." she moved from the bed, "what'd you do?"

"Pot," he closed the door behind himself, "Pietro was back, had to find some way to calm him down before he broke the rest of the shit that his sister didn't," he passed by her and headed for the bed.

"You look strange...your eyes look...totally black," Rogue took his face in her gloved hands to examine, "I can barely see the red in your eyes..."

"Oh?" he leaned to the side to look in the mirror. His reflection only cracked him up. He did look strange. And his hair looked much bigger than usual too. Self-consciously, he flattened it, thinking his fingers looked alien. He laughed loudly and pointed at the reflection, "you see that?"

"This isn't gonna be a regular thing is it?" Rogue asked worriedly, "'cause if you're gonna be doing drugs-"

"Don't fret. I got no interest in gettin' high. This was a one off thing... I promise," he lay back on her bed and kicked off his shoes.

"How is it a one off thing? What makes you think it's okay to just do it now?" Rogue demanded.

"I had to...it was for Pietro...he's totally cut up, and Magneto said I should find a way...anythin' to help him wind down."

"Ah'm sure that when he said that he didn't mean get the guy stoned," Rogue sighed.

"Hey...it was the only thing I could think of short of callin' out for a hooker..."

"You know the numbers to call hookers out on housecalls?" she asked suspiciously.

"Not by heart, but I know there's a page in the Bayville Yellow Pages dedicated to masseuses that specialise in happy endings. You didn't think that was legit, did you?"

"Ah never thought about it," Rogue rolled her eyes. "So is Pietro okay?"

"As well as he can be for the moment. He was laughing at Lance's feet or something when I saw him downstairs, so I guess he's fine right now. Anyway...enough about my day and all the stress goin' on here. How was your day?"

"It was...actually pretty good," Rogue answered after a moment, she sat beside him, "Scott and I are talkin' again. Classes were good...for once..."

Remy ran a finger gently along her spine as he listened.

"Lance still didn't get the car runnin' right. Somethin' about the brakes now," she added.

"Yeah, I know..."

"How's Wanda?" Rogue asked suddenly, as if only just remembering that the girl was still in hospital.

"She's...in intensive care," Remy sighed, after a moment he added "is intensive a word?" he had a feeling he'd gotten it wrong somehow. He kept thinking it out. Intensive...in...ten...sive. Am I getting this right? Why does it sound so funny?

"Yes," Rogue rolled her eyes at him.

"Sorry..." closing his eyes, he drew a swirling pattern across her back over the thin cotton of her shirt on her back.

"But she'll be all right?"

"I don't know yet. Magneto is gonna keep us updated when he can. He says there's tests they gotta do..."

"Ah guess it's to determine what kind of damage she's done."

"Yeah that sounds familiar," Remy nodded. "Somethin' about kidney damage or somethin'...I can't really remember...hard to think straight right now, to be honest."

"How's your arm?"

"It's actually not too bad now," he admitted, "feels just dandy. I'd never recommend smokin' pot. Nasty habit and all, but...you know...it does wonders for takin' the edge off sometimes."

Rubbing her stomach still, she sighed, her expression still showing her pain.

"Speakin' of edges..." he leaned into her and drew her a little closer, "seems like you're havin' issues with pain yourself..."

"Ah'm fine."

"Is it really that bad?" he asked, still seeing she was rubbing her stomach and wincing. "What's it feel like, anyway? I've always wondered. Is it like a cramp from eating or...?" he asked carefully.

"No," she frowned, "not like that."

"Then tell me..." he murmured gently.

"It's like..." she blushed, "like...somethin' is tryin' to pull me apart from the inside...like my womb is falling apart...and every time Ah stand up...it gets worse...almost like everythin' is gonna fall out..." she sucked in a breath. "It's like a sharp pain, you know? Intense..."

He brought his arm right around her and placed his hand on her stomach, "can't be much fun."

"It isn't..." she moved her hand to let him rub her stomach, and leaned back into his arms a little. "Be careful," she murmured to him.

"I always am," he breathed in the smell of her hair and pushed thoughts of Wanda out of his mind. Being able to touch Rogue like this brought a serenity to him that the weed hadn't. Everything about it was innocent, from the way he let the tip of his nose brush against her hair, to the way his fingers circled her lower stomach in a slow and careful massage. Why was it there was nothing remotely sexual about any of these things but they felt far more intimate than anything ever had with another girl? Why was it that even holding this girl's hand touched him he felt far more connected than he ever had kissing a woman?

"Wanna watch somethin'?" she asked sighing softly in response to his gentle massaging and the way he breathed softly near her ear.

"Whatever you want to watch," he answered. As she left him to go pick through the few of her DVD collection (the ones she'd bought while shopping with Lance, and then at the horror convention later), he got comfortable on her bed, propping himself up against the pillows and the headboard and lazily watching her. The room seemed to weave and sway around him, and the colours of the walls, of her top, of the screen on the television seemed so vivid and hazy. Everything had an almost dreamlike quality to it, and a strange feeling of peace left him feeling warm, and comfortable and secure.

This is how happiness is supposed to feel, he thought as he lay there staring at the screen. She sat at the bottom of the bed for a while, glancing through her college books as he tried to focus on the film she'd put on. Perhaps it was the weed, but he was actually finding this horror film amusing. When six thirty came, he began to feel ridiculously hungry, and his mind began to clear enough that he finally felt it time to interrupt her intense studying to complain about the fact.

"I'm starving."

"Munchies, huh?" she asked casually as she glanced up from her book.

"I haven't eaten since this morning," he moved closer and examined what she was reading for her English literature class. He couldn't make head nor tail of it himself. "Lets go out."

"For?"

"I don't know. Chicken, maybe. Or Mexican..."

"Maybe we should stay here in case Magneto calls?" Rogue asked pointedly.

"I'll take my phone," he retrieved his phone from his pocket and checked for calls. There were none. "You should drive," he added, "my reaction time sucks when I'm stoned."

"Promise me this isn't gonna be a regular thing. You gettin' high Ah mean," Rogue requested of him again as she closed her books, and stood up.

"I promise," he moved to the edge of the bed slowly and stood, he felt so tired he was beginning to reconsider going out for food.

"And gettin' drunk?"

"I got no intentions of becomin' an alcoholic or a junkie. I'm tryin' here, Chere. I've made a mess of things, but..." he reached for her gloved hands and took them, "I want to turn my life around. I don't want to be that guy. Known enough of them in my life."

Rogue gazed up at him with soft eyes, her hands holding onto his. "That's why you're here..." she reminded.

"Lately, not really. These past few weeks I've been askin' myself why didn't I just leave this place...for good. Why should I stick around when Wanda was practically blackmailing me?"

"So why didn't you?" Rogue asked carefully.

He tilted his head and examined her face, "I think...maybe I was..." he chewed the inside of his cheek and tried to really think of the explanation.

"You were-?" Rogue asked, waiting.

"I think I'd have left if it weren't for you," he finished.

"Why?"

He thought of the deal with Wolverine, and the thought that Wanda may hurt Rogue, the thought that Wanda might have eventually told Rogue about their 'arrangement' before it had all come out at the weekend. All those things that had been holding him back.

"I think...I've been fallin' for you since the minute you set foot in this place and called it home..." Remy took a breath, "I just...wasn't aware of it, not until things started getting worse and worse...I've never really had much experience with love..."

"So when did you realise it?" she asked curiously.

"Saturday night...when you were...dying. Sometimes takes nearly losin' somethin' to make you realise how much you don't wanna lose it. And when you nearly died...things started...clicking. Your blood was on my hands...I was never so scared was I was that night," he swallowed back hard, feeling a strange welling of emotion. He wasn't going to let her see how much this bothered him just yet. "I've had...yearnin's..." he began. "I won't lie...some days just bein' near you brought things...you know...up..." he shrugged, "but...it never occurred to me it was gettin' to be somethin' more...not 'til that night...not 'til I'd nearly lost you..."

Rogue stared at him strangely, as if she were trying to figure something out. Whatever it was, the expression left pretty quickly.

"How about you?" he asked of her. "When did you first...start thinkin' about me that way?" Remy asked, he took her jacket from the hook on her door and helped her into it.

Rogue thought about it, she seemed to have to think carefully too. "Like you, Ah think...Ah had feelin's comin' about but Ah didn't know until later...much later...and it hurt to think of you with Wanda. At Kitty's party Ah was miserable...Ah wish you'd been there...with me..."

"Next party, we'll go together..." he entwined his fingers with hers tentatively with the hand and opened the door for her with the other to let her be the first to step out of the room. Wanda may have been in intensive care, Rogue may be intent to make the biggest mistake of her life by trying to go through the process of evolution. But for tonight, Remy was determined to push everything out, because tonight, he had Rogue.

And he was happy.

End of Part Thirty-Four

Aaaaaah, I'm so glad to get that part out of the way. I'm sure the question has been burning on one or two tongues what the issue was between Wanda and Magneto and I'm sure this has maybe put a little bit of a light on it at least (hopefully anyway).

Thanks to all for their kind reviews. Had some really awesome insightful ones lately, you guys are all so nice and kind and I appreciate the time you take when you review :) 3