Chapter Twenty-Three:


When the bluffs came back into view on the horizon, Rogue was surprised to see Remy waiting for her, leaning against one of the trees. How he knew where she would be, she had no idea. He just seemed to know these kind of things.

As she drew closer, he straightened up and moved away from the trees, his duster swirling around him. He was wearing his Gambit uniform, and while she admired the way it showed off his wiry muscularity, she smothered a frown, knowing he'd just come from some mission for Magneto.

"What are ya doin' out here?" she asked as she touched down lightly on the edge of the cliff, her hair settling gently on her shoulders.

"Hank told me 'bout Mystique," he answered evenly, his dark eyes studying her with concern.

Ah should have known he would, Rogue thought with a sigh. The way Ah took outta there, he's prob'ly worried sick 'bout me an' all. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "How did ya find me?" she asked aloud.

"When you weren't on de roof," Remy replied with a shrug. "Knew you were here. Remy jus' ask himself, where would de fille wit' wings in her soul go when she need t' t'ink? Dis seem like de most likely place t' start lookin', non?"

"Ah s'pose so," Rogue agreed wearily. She slid down to the ground, dangling her legs over the edge of the cliff. She felt Remy come up beside her, but didn't look at him as he lowered himself down to sit next to her. They sat in silence for a long moment, just staring out at the ocean, a comfortable silence falling over them, which struck Rogue as odd since she had been so upset moments before. But his presence had a soothing affect on her, it gave her strength.

"Remy never tell you 'bout his pere, did he?" Remy asked, finally breaking the silence. "De man who took him in an' raised him as his own, despite de demon eyes an' all."

"No," Rogue replied, startled. "Ya were adopted?"

"Oui," Remy answered with a slight nod of his head. "Never known my real parents. Dey left me on de steps o' de hospital when I was jus' a babe. Cuz o' my eyes. De eyes o' a demon."

"Ah love ya eyes," Rogue whispered before she even realized she'd spoken. Remy glanced up at her and she looked away, embarrassed. But when she looked up again, she found him smiling at her gently.

"Remy love yo' eyes, too, chere," he told her with a wink. "Dey like li'l chips o' green ice. Or emeralds. Dat's it, dey're li'l flecks o' emerald."

Rogue blushed slightly. "Ah bet ya say dat t' all de girls, Gambit," she drawled, batting her eyes at him playfully.

He grinned. "Only t' de ones wit' de eyes dat sparkle like de Mississippi. Which works out nicely, den, since you a river rat, hahn?"

"Watch it, saloon boy," Rogue said wryly. "Or Ah might hafta exercise some o' my strength on ya."

"Dat a promise, chere?" Remy asked with a smirk.

Rogue rolled her eyes. "Ya were sayin' somethin' 'bout ya ol' man?" she prompted.

"Droite," Remy said. "His name is Jean-Luc LeBeau. Good man, good heart. He take Remy in when dere was no one else. Make him part o' his family, raise him as a son. Grew up brothers wit' his own boy, Henri. Mon pere teach me de ways o' de Guild, de ways o' survival."

"The Guild?" Rogue echoed, frowning in confusion.

"T'ieves Guild, chere," Remy explained. "Dat de organization Remy used t' work fo. De family dat took him in."

Rogue nodded slowly. She'd known Remy was a thief, and she'd seen more than enough proof of that in his memories when she'd absorbed him. It actually hadn't bothered her that much. She'd never realized, though, that there was a whole guild of thieves down in New Orleans. That was more than a bit startling.

Guess Ah should have paid more attention t' those mem'ries, she mused to herself.

"Jean-Luc, he be de leader o' de T'ieves Guild," Remy continued.

"Which makes ya...?" Rogue asked.

Remy actually looked a bit sheepish. "De Prince o' T'ieves, if you will. Someday, either Remy or mon frere Henri gon' hafta be de next patriarch."

And t' think Ah was only kiddin' when Ah called him Prince Charmin', Rogue mused to herself. She was a little surprised at how easily she was accepting all of this, how quickly she came to terms with what she was hearing, but after Hank's revelation, she figured she could handle anything else easily.

"Okay," Rogue said.

"Okay?" Remy echoed, obviously just as surprised by her reaction as she had been. "Dat's all you got t' say?"

Rogue shrugged. "Ya were raised a thief. Ah already knew that. Ya were taken in by a man who loved ya, despite ya bein' a mutant. He just happened t' be de head o' the Thieves Guild. That's somethin' Ah can deal with."

Something akin to relief washed over Remy's expression. "Merci, chere," he said with a small smile. "Dat mean a lot t' Remy."

"Ya bein' a thief is somethin' Ah can handle, Remy," Rogue told him with a smile of her own. "It's not like ya are a killer or anythin', now is it?"

Remy grinned. "Guess it a good t'ing dat Remy not part o' de Assassins Guild, too, den, hahn?"

Rogue blinked. "Assassins?" she echoed. "What in the...do Ah even wanna know?"

Remy shook his head. "Not t'day, chere. Someday Remy explain it t' you. Someday he explain it all t' you. Right now, dere's no need t' worry 'bout dat stuff."

Rogue nodded. "Ya right." She raised an eyebrow. "What was it that ya wanted t' tell me 'bout ya father?"

"Mon pere ain't Remy's birth father. He jus' de man dat raised him, dat loved him. Dat was dere t' pick him up when he fell. He jus' Remy's real father." Remy's intense eyes bore into hers. "De point is, chere, dat it don' matter who ya momma is. It don' matter dat she be de kind o' woman she is. Cuz you ain't her. Dat Professor o' yo's? Dat Logan guy you talk 'bout? De porcupine's auntie? Dey all love you, dey all know who you are. It's yo' choice what you do wit' yo' life, chere. You get t' decide what kind o' girl you gon' be, not yo' momma, not nobody but yo'self."

Rogue swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling tight. "So ya sayin' that just cuz my momma turns out t' be a psychotic, murderin' bitch, doesn't mean that Ah will, too?" she asked with a wavering smile.

Remy smiled. "Oui, chere. Dat's what Remy be tryin' t' say." He touched a gloved hand to her hair, stroking it softly. "I know it hurt you, girl, t' find out dat de woman who b'tryed you like dat is yo' momma, but you gotta let it go. You gotta let go o' all dat hate you feel fo' her." He smirked faintly. "S'like you tol' me, chere, hatred can only bring mo' hatred."

"No fair usin' mah own words 'gainst me, now, ya hear?" Rogue retorted weakly. "But Ah hear ya. Ah get ya point. Ah can't get past this an' move on with mah life if Ah don't forgive her, right? But how am Ah s'posed t' do that, Remy?" She drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. "She killed my friends. She blew up my home..."

Remy nodded. "And she gon' hafta answer fo' dat one day, but not to you, chere. You let ot'ers worry 'bout makin' dat woman pay fo' her sins. You jus' worry 'bout makin' sure her sins don't weigh you down."

"What do ya mean?"

"Not sayin' you hafta love de woman, or even like her fo' dat matter, but you gotta fo'give her. Not fo' her, but fo' yo'self. If you don', she gon' fo'ever hang over yo' head, an' you won' ever escape her shadow."

Rogue cocked an eyebrow. "An' jus' when did ya get so wise, M'sieu LeBeau?" she drawled with a smile.

"What you talkin' 'bout 'get'?" Remy shot back with a smirk. "Remy, he always been dis smart. You jus' never notice till now."

Rogue grinned despite herself, shaking her head. "Ya really are a piece o' work, ya know that, Cajun?"

"So de femmes dey tell me," Remy replied with an innocent shrug.

Rogue snorted and shoved him playfully, which, of course, knocked him over onto his back due to her super strength. He caught her by the wrist, though, and pulled her down with him so that she was leaning over him, their faces inches apart. Rogue was suddenly aware of her pulse racing, of his heart pounding against her chest, of how small the space between their lips really was.

"De Beast, he tell Remy somet'ing else, too," Remy said huskily, licking his lips.

"What's that?" Rogue asked, her voice soft. Her arms were trembling and she felt like they might give at any moment, causing her to fall on top of him. Her mouth was dry, her head spinning, but she didn't dare to move even an inch.

"He said," Remy whispered, arching his head up towards hers. "Dat Magneto gave ma chere somet'ing dat allow her t' touch. Dis true?"

Rogue swallowed, unable to find her voice, and nodded.

Remy's eyes were swimming with emotions so intense she could have drowned in them. "Dat's all I needed t' know, me," he whispered, and then he was kissing her, and she was kissing him, her arms giving out and spilling her onto his chest. Neither of them even noticed, as his arms came up to wrap around her waist, as hers snaked their way around his neck, pulling one another closer, their arms and lips devouring each other.

A heavy tension that Rogue hadn't even known was building within her faded away at that moment, leaving her with an incredible feeling of freedom and bliss.

This, she decided, was much, much better than flying.


Translations:

pere- father
fille- girl
femmes- women
droite- right
M'sieu- abbreviated slang form of Monsieur