BENEATH THE SURFACE
Part Four
Remy couldn't sleep. The small bed was comfortable enough he supposed, but far too little to allow him room to stretch. Every time he shifted upon it, it creaked tellingly, he was afraid to even toss in turn in case whomever was in the neighbouring room might think he was masturbating.
There'd been a time he probably wouldn't have even cared about that but he supposed Rogue would have found it rather displeasing if people were talking about his nightly activities in such a way. He cared more at this point what Rogue would think of it than what they would.
There had been a few brief moments he'd almost managed to nod off to sleep, but the feeling of being watched kept rousing him, left him uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if either the room was under surveillance as part of the mansion security, or if Jean-Luc was lurking nearby, invisible.
His eyes fell upon the clock, it was after midnight, the X-Men weren't even back yet. His heart pounded at the thought. They should have been back by now surely? Hank McCoy was in charge but Remy could find hide nor hair of him anywhere in the halls. Determined to try and get down to the sub-basement to ask if everything was all right – if Rogue was all right, Remy located the elevator he'd used earlier when Ororo had brought him up to his room. Unfortunately, trying to access it only taught him that the thing was heavily secured. Not only was there a security panel requiring a four digit pass number, but there was also a retinal scanner and thumb-print scanner. When he'd tried to bypass the four digit number, it had rejected his efforts twice, warning that a third failure would result in an alarm. He didn't need to rouse every student in the mansion.
Going back to his room unhappily, he went back to bed but resting was impossible with his thoughts running fast like a train. Where was Rogue? What was she doing? Was she all right? Perhaps she was hurt, laying somewhere desperate for help, perhaps the others had gotten separated from her, and she needed someone.
Perhaps she needs me.
He'd tried to push the thoughts out of his worried mind as he'd attempted to settle in the unfamiliar room and narrow bed but it wasn't working too well. After another hour of trying to sleep but not quite getting there, he climbed out of the bed and moved to the window to gaze out anxiously. It was a still night although it wasn't completely silent. Someone in a neighbouring room was listening to music, it sounded like the kind of bubble gum pop a ten year old would listen to.
He tried to take his mind away from his troubles by sitting on the floor (there was no chair and he'd rather sit somewhere that didn't creak and whine with every shift) and swiping through his iPhone, sorting through photos he'd taken on their vacation. He'd taken a few photographs without Rogue's permission, ones that she hadn't known about thanks to him silencing the camera clicks. She'd be livid if she knew he had a rather fetching photo of her in that bikini as she sat on the deck of the yacht.
The memory should have been happy, he realised. But it only brought back the reminder of what he'd seen while he had been making love to Rogue.
Makin' love...is that what it was? He wondered. Thinking of that term...he'd never been able to use it in that way before. Not used it and meant it.
He realised how bad it had probably seemed to her...he must have looked so ridiculously inexperienced, and he was thoroughly embarrassed about the entire thing. It was hard to class that as sex, it seemed almost...grotesque a word to use for their first time. Making love was far...more accurate, even if it hadn't been the most exciting nor fulfilling experience either had had.
It still meant somethin' though, he reminded himself. Gotta account f' somethin', right?
He swiped through the photos of her, trying so hard to find good things about the vacation to think of but finding very little. Already he felt as if he'd forgotten most of it. He wished she could be there, to go through the photos with him, so they could reminisce, remind each other of things.
She probably remembers way more than I do, he realised regretfully.
There was a low rumble, he recognised the sound of a jet approaching, it was hard to ignore that particular sound. It might not have been quite as loud as the sounds of most modern jets (he had a feeling it had been tweaked to be quieter), but it was certainly hard to ignore the slight vibration that came with it – he recognised it to be the sound of the Blackbird as he'd heard it leaving hours before. Although he gazed out of the window to look to see if the Blackbird was there in the sky, he saw no lights, no sign of the thing. The rumbling got louder, closer, and then died altogether a few moments later. It had landed, it was somewhere...somewhere down below. They were home.
He paced in his room anxiously, ten minutes...twenty minutes. He heard the others coming down the hall; Scott Summers and Logan (Logan's footsteps were ridiculously heavy...how much did that Adamantium laced skeleton of his weigh!?). Remy pressed his ear against the door and listened with focus as he kept his breathing still.
"All I'm saying," Scott Summers voice had a whine to it, he was complaining, "is that she never should have been out there with us."
"We needed all the help we could get," Logan remarked.
"So you actually disagree?"
"Look, if it were up to me, I wouldn't have had her there. I don't think she's ready enough either, she's not focused enough to be faced with that kind of danger. But like I said, we didn't have enough of a team otherwise, and her powers come in handy."
"She was all over the place tonight," Scott grumbled, "she accidentally dropped a bomb near civilians and she's lucky that I managed to blast it out of the way before someone got hurt."
"Either way, Professor said she needs more field experience," Logan commented.
"Look, I like Tabitha as much as everyone else does in this place, but...she's too distracted, she doesn't treat things with any kind of seriousness, she looks to everything like it's a game..."
"She's sixteen, slim. Most things are a game at that age," Logan commented, "But you're right, she was trouble tonight, I need to spend some one on one time with her."
Remy frowned a little, Just another one of your little students, Logan? What y' do t' gether on one on one time I wonder? He thought darkly.
"You think I should speak to her?" Scott asked, his voice serious and tired.
"No, leave that to me, the last thing she needs is her friend complainin' about her lack of discipline and focus," Logan stated. "It'll be better comin' from me, she expects me to be hard on her."
How hard are you on her, Logan? Remy frowned more.
Remy waited, listening as the two men's footsteps descended down the hall, one door closed, and a moment later, another closed. Remy hesitated for a few moments, and opened his door as quietly as he could, gazing out into the dim hallway.
A few moments were spent, silently expecting Rogue to come creeping down the hall as he'd asked her to, but after five minutes (he was able to see by the grandfather clock at the end of the hall) she never showed. Grunting, he decided he would go to see her himself.
"Where you think you're going?"
Remy stopped in his tracks, he'd barely gotten two feet from his room and hadn't even heard Logan's door opening. He sighed and turned to look at the man who stood there wearing nothing but boxer shorts. It was a slightly disturbing image of him, Remy wondered if Rogue had ever seen him like that...wondered if she'd liked it.
"I was goin' t' get a drink, it's hot in this place," Remy responded, he didn't miss a beat, he impressed himself with how convincing it almost sounded. Exhaustion had made his voice crack a little, made it sound much more real than it was.
"Make it fast. I'll be timing you. And don't be looking for Rogue," Logan warned, "you go near her door, I'll know."
Remy snorted, "why? 'Cause y' gon' be in there yourself?"
"I'm warning you-"
"I'm goin' for a drink. Like I said," Remy retorted quietly, and headed for the end of the hall and the stairs without so much as waiting for another comment.
Thinking the better of it, he went straight to the kitchen, almost hoping that Rogue would be down there, perhaps getting a midnight snack after the mission, but no such luck. Instead, he found Tabitha sitting on the kitchen counter nor far from the fridge; she was still in her black uniform, her hair pulled tightly back into a ponytail, making her seem strangely younger than sixteen. She had a large tub of ice cream straddled between her thighs and a spoon in her fist.
He tried to think of something clever to say, and for a moment the words 'if y' want somethin' creamy 'tween y' thighs...' almost spilled from his lips before he saw the unhappy look on her face. In fact, she looked so upset it reminded him strangely of Rogue, the way she'd sit off on her own, that almost hurt expression. He held his tongue, he didn't want to hurt her feelings nor make her mad when she already seemed upset.
"You ever feel like you're not good enough?" asked Tabitha quite suddenly as he was on his way to the fridge.
Remy paused, he wanted to answer yes but it'd be far too telling. He didn't want anyone close to knowing how he felt about most things. Yes, he felt as if he weren't good enough...not good enough for Rogue, for example. He came up with the answer that he felt would sound good...sound encouraging. "It's easy t' believe y' ain' good enough if y' listen t' what others think."
Tabitha tilted her head, looking at him.
"No one gon' tell me I ain' good enough f' anythin'. Not without givin' me a chance."
"I'm like...I don't know," Tabitha sighed, "I shouldn't have come back here. It's not working."
"Why?" he asked, he retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and twisted the cap.
"I fail all the time...at school...in Danger Room sessions. Tonight, during the mission...I screwed up hugely...I mean it worked out, but...I know Scott was super pissed at me."
"Scott is up tight. I'm sure y' did fine," Remy lied.
"I almost hurt a bunch of people."
"Could happen t' anyone."
"But it happened to me. They expect me to be more capable," complained Tabitha.
Remy had to wonder why she was telling him this; he supposed the next person who walked into that room might have got it. He glanced towards her, her turquoise eyes were on the floor, slightly misty and lost. "I've...seen y' in action, and y' seemed pretty capable t' me."
Tabitha didn't reply, she took a large mouthful of the vanilla ice cream in, she didn't even raise her eyes from him.
Remy put the bottle down after taking a sip, "Maybe this time...y' just...had y' mind elsewhere?" he asked, guessing that had to be the culprit. He'd seen it happen countless times in the field, all it took was one random thought, one thing to throw someone completely off. It was amazing how it could turn a worthy opponent into hopeless in milliseconds.
"Maybe," she supposed, her mouth full of ice cream, her voice slightly slurred with it.
Remy took the spoon from her and took a small spoonful from the tub between her thighs, he put it into his mouth, "It gets hard t' switch off the things that get t' us in the field, but trust me, it don' mean that y' ain' good enough. It jus' mean y' human."
Tabitha gave a strange snort, she turned to look at him, her blue eyes sad and slightly suspicious, "that's it? Kindness? You're supposed to be a hardass...with tough advice."
"Y' want tough advice?" Remy asked.
The blonde gave a vague shrug.
For a moment he stood holding the spoon, thinking about it, "stop feelin' sorry for y' self, stop fillin' up on ice cream, and tell y'self that y' gon' do better next time," he remarked, "work harder, pay more attention and care less about what anyone say," Remy dropped the spoon into the tub of ice cream.
Tabitha sighed, "I suppose I better get to bed before the night wardens come out to escort me back to my room."
"They always like that?" Remy asked curiously.
"They keep an ear out...especially Logan. Logan hears everything," Tabitha explained, "You set two feet outside of your room at any time of night after bedtime and he's on your ass. I don't know how he ever sleeps."
Guess that's gonna make it real difficult t' see Rogue tonight then, Remy realised.
"So...I guess midnight snacks are out of the question," Remy sighed. It wasn't the worry of midnight snacks that bothered him. How was he supposed to continue his relationship with Rogue if they were going to be around people all day and banned from going to each other's rooms at night. She'd always told him it'd be like this but he hadn't believed it might be that bad. He thought of how Logan had caught him barely two feet from his door moments before. It didn't seem to be an exaggeration.
"Pretty much, not that it's going to stop me," Tabitha took one last spoonful of ice cream before ditching it on the counter and slipping down, "I better get upstairs before he comes looking. And you better do the same."
"Yeah," Remy said, he watched her go, wondering what it was that had her so bothered. He didn't believe it was simply that she didn't feel good enough to be one of the X-Men. There was something else lurking beneath the surface when it came to that girl.
He gazed upon the counter at the ice cream she'd left, and with a sigh he went to put it away, realising that it might be fitting he clean away some one else's mess for once instead of someone cleaning up his. She'd gotten droplets of ice cream on the countertop from the way she'd tossed the spoon aside, the way it had splattered reminded him of things he hadn't really thought of for a while. Other very unhappy memories. In his mind he could almost hear Jean-Luc telling him to clean it up before leaving him alone in his bedroom. He stood for some moments, slightly mesmerised, memories swirling around in his head, trying to break him, trying to tear down walls he'd spent years carefully building.
Remy finally found the strength to tell himself to stop thinking of these things, and he raised his eyes from the mess and turned to look for a cloth, his eyes catching the reflective triple oven doors on the wall. A dark reflection stood to the back of the kitchen not far from where he'd been sitting at dinner; he hadn't expected it and his breath caught in his throat. It was Jean-Luc there, looking at him, an almost satisfied and smug expression playing about his gaunt and aged face.
He spun around to see if he was there, but found someone else to be standing there instead; Logan. Logan was nowhere near as tall nor gaunt as Jean-Luc, they looked nowhere near similar, and Remy had never expected to be so glad to see Logan anywhere.
"You get your water?" Logan asked in a grunt
"Yeah..." Remy almost stammered, he had to still himself, try to recompose himself, "I just...need t' clear this away."
"Midnight snacking?" Logan asked.
Remy might have thought it funnier that Logan had said this, considering the conversation that Tabitha and himself had just had. Unfortunately, he wasn't amused right now, he was still too startled by the vision of Jean-Luc. "It was-" Remy thought about explaining it had been Tabitha, but right now the girl could probably do without more criticism judging by what he'd heard in the hall and what she'd told him herself. "Just a little ice cream – I didn' think it'd be a big deal. Is there rules about eatin' at this time of night?"
"You want to eat, you eat durin' normal hours," Logan commented, "c' mon, bed."
Remy closed the ice cream tub and swept a paper towel over the splatters of vanilla ice cream somehow without even directly looking at it; his eyes moved to the oven doors again to check if Jean-Luc might be there in the reflection, but he wasn't. All he felt now was Logan's observing eyes glued to him. He put the ice cream in the freezer and turned to leave the kitchen, Logan switching the light off after him.
"Seem a little nervous, LeBeau," Logan admitted, following him along the hall.
"Y' blame me?" Remy asked, trying to play it off casually, "y' watchin' every move I make. Y' not doin' much t' make this feel like home t' me."
"I'll make my foot feel at home right in your ass if you don't move faster and get upstairs," Logan warned.
"Can't I at least tell my wife goodnight?" Remy asked, it blurted out a little louder than he intended, and he immediately regretted it only because Logan stopped him.
"Look, you've been warned about running your mouth about that," the man warned in a quiet hiss.
"All I want is to-"
"Rogue is sleeping, she's had a long day. Take a leaf out of her book and go to bed."
"What if I can't sleep?" Remy retorted, folding his arms stubbornly.
"Read a damn book like the rest of us," Logan muttered.
"Yeah...what book you read when y' can't sleep? Lolita?" Remy shot.
"Just get upstairs," Logan warned as he went to turn him upstairs and Remy shrugged out of his reach angrily.
"I know the way, I don't need a chaperone," he muttered, and took off up towards the stairs, his pace fast enough to keep at least five feet ahead of the man.
As Remy got to his room, Logan commented, "and stay in there. I don't want to have to tell you again."
Remy went into his room and thought about slamming the door but caught himself realising it'd make him seem like an immature brat; he didn't need his behaviour being questionable and he certainly didn't want to wake anyone up and have them observing this behaviour either.
He sat on the bed and tried to get comfortable but couldn't and each time he moved the thing creaked and groaned with ferocity. It was getting rather frustrating. He lay there for what must have been a few hours, twisting and turning. He lay with the light on, eyes open, every now and then glancing from corner to corner expecting Jean-Luc to be there. The not knowing when and where he would appear was driving him crazy, making him cringe, making it impossible to find any comfort in this place that was supposed to be safe.
He felt less safe than he ever had before. He felt threatened and angry and upset that the memories that kept popping up left and right as of late were impossible to ignore or push away. He rolled over in the bed, the bed squeaked horrendously, and it annoyed him that Logan could probably hear every single move he made on that bed.
Frustrated, he got out of the bed, grasped the edges of the mattress and dragged it off of the frame and dumped it onto the floor in the middle of the room. He sat folded legged on the mattress and picked up his phone, he looked at the time. It was after three in the morning, but it felt more like it should have been five or six. The night was dragging, especially being alone.
He wished he hadn't destroyed Rogue's phone, he could have sent a text message...could have talked with her all night (if she was awake). His own stupidity and anger had put him in this position, he realised. He sat there for some time thinking of things, wondering how things could have worked out differently, how differently he might have done things if it all had to be done over again.
If I hadn't promised Rogue I would come back here before we even got married...what would have happened? Would she have come with me? Or would she have forced me t' come here? Remy found himself pondering. Something told him that Rogue would have never left the X-Men permanently to be with him, he wasn't good enough in that regard. She was too close to the others, couldn't bear the thought of being separated from Logan and Scott, from all her friends...from her life here.
For her, he'd drop everything...even come here...to these prison like conditions.
He tried to imagine what Tante Mattie would have said to him had she seen this situation. She'd have probably smacked him hard in the face and told him to grow up and stop being a child, that he was there of his own will, that he had food in his belly and a roof over his head and that was more than people in third world countries had.
He tried to think of it that way but it seemed impossible to appreciate anything with so much bothering him. Horrible things going on in his mind, the ghost of Jean-Luc haunting his every move...these things made it impossible to appreciate a nice home, a comfortable room, decent food...people who gave a shit.
Trying to soothe himself with thoughts of the good memories he had from the last few weeks. It had begun with remembering how Rogue had looked on their wedding day, the flair of that dress, the shimmering stones around the bustier, the way he'd had to laughably cut her out of it. The intriguing moments of sitting at her back in the bathroom, scrubbing that fake tan from her creamy skin and finding himself wishing he could touch her...the frustrating disappointment knowing he never could. And then memories had skipped, the blur of going to a strip club, the horrendous hangover that next morning, the flight to Louisiana, the mundane things, shopping for things, even the grocery shopping, things that had seemed so normal and nice...until he remembered why they had been doing so.
And then there was Jean-Luc's face before his closed eyes, his gaunt tight lipped angry glare when he'd told him about the marriage. And then...the way Jean-Luc had looked almost dead, hanging from the couch...then the way he had been in the parking lot in the middle of a seizure, Rogue trying to desperately stop him from slamming his head against the gravel. The last time Remy had ever seen his adoptive father's face (at least physically in life) had been then, before a couple of nearby ambulance staff had dragged him onto a stretcher and taken him away.
The last way Remy had ever saw him had been him looking half-dead and almost zombie-like there on a stretcher after the seizure had passed. Remy felt almost sick at the thought of it. He couldn't sleep with that image in his head, and so he sat up again, picked up his phone and began trying to distract himself with online shopping.
Every tick of the clock in the hall (which he could still hear from where he sat) was painfully loud, reminding him of every second. Soft chimes counted down the hours as he sat there playing with his iPhone until the battery was at three percent and he was forced to charge it. When six am finally came, he decided that it was reasonably light out enough and an acceptable morning hour to be awake and he finally left the room.
He took his time in the shower, took his time shaving, he felt more close to exhaustion now that he was up and moving than he did when he had been lying in bed. He couldn't sleep now though, he was afraid that when he closed his eyes, things would come back again. He didn't need that today.
By the time he'd dressed, it was almost seven and he went downstairs to the kitchen (now having some of the layout of the mansion memorised), glad to find that coffee was brewing, the smell was thick in the air and for the first time the X-Men's mansion seemed almost inviting and homey. Ororo Munro was watering an array of herbs in a planter on the windowsill behind the sink – it impressed Remy that she was using her powers to create a small rain cloud above the planter. He'd have never thought that possible in such a confined space.
"Good morning," she said with a warm smile.
"Bon matin," he replied, he tried to hide the fact he almost yawned the words. He turned and tried to press the yawn away silently.
"How did you sleep?" Ororo asked, turning her attention back to the plants.
He thought of complaining about how badly he slept because the bed was noisy, thought about complaining because the bed was too narrow but it would do very little good he realised. Besides, he was certain these reasons were not altogether responsible for how badly he had slept (or not slept). "It was peaceful," he supposed, trying to lie about it.
"You look a little tired. Dark circles under your eyes," Ororo gestured worriedly, "are you sure you've slept enough?"
"Maybe I didn' sleep much, but that's expected 'cause of the jet lag," Remy shrugged.
"Your bed was comfortable?"
"It was fine. Don' worry though, I've slept in cargo holds on planes, carriages on freight trains, and in engine rooms on ships. Trus' me, I can sleep anywhere," he decided not to elaborate that he'd moved his bed to the floor, and that while he'd been online that morning using his phone, that he'd ordered a new king sized bed from a local furniture retailer. The unfortunate thing was it wasn't until it had been ordered he'd learned that there was no bed in stock and he would need to wait an undetermined time before it would be available for delivery; he'd been too lazy to go chasing up to cancel the order and had simply accepted it as that, especially since the bed had been what he'd been after.
"You'll find it much easier to fall asleep when you begin your training and start getting out into the field," Ororo admitted thoughtfully, "You'll find yourself so tired that you'll take sleep where you can get it when you can."
Remy got himself a cup and moved to the coffee pot which had finally finished brewing. "Is there any trainin' today?" he asked hopefully since she'd brought the subject up.
"Yes," Ororo replied, she finished watering the planter. "But you are suspended from training until Hank deems that hand fit," she gestured with a faint smile.
"It doesn't even hurt," he lied; the hand did hurt, although perhaps not quite as badly as it had the day before. He poured himself a cup of coffee and moved to admire the small herb planter, he picked off a leaf and rubbed it before sniffing it, "Basil..." he decided.
"Yes," she commented, "Oregano, Rosemary, Sage, Chives and Parsley too. I did consider growing mint but I would need to put it in a separate container, it gets quite invasive," she explained.
"Y' a little bit of a green thumb then," he supposed.
"I do a lot of the gardening here."
"I suppose it's easy t' grow things when y' can control the weather," Remy realised, "y' can make the sun shine, make the rain pour...must be easy t' maintain them."
"I try not to control the weather too much when it comes to the plants outside," Ororo admitted, "consistent weather can do more damage to plants than it can be beneficial, and I cannot maintain the weather indefinitely."
"Stands to reason," Remy sipped his coffee. "So what am I meant t' do while everyone else is trainin' today? Sit and vegetate like y' herb garden?"
"You shall be in the control annex observing the team in the Danger Room."
"Joy," he sighed.
"It's important to learn the basics about the Danger Room before you enter. You may even find it rather fascinating to watch. Some of our younger students compare it to watching an action movie in 3D."
Remy smirked, "I've never been one for watchin' movies. Would rather star in them."
"Spoken like a true adventurer," she moved to the fridge, "since you are up so early, perhaps you would like to help with breakfast," she offered.
There were many things Remy would like to be doing in the morning, but helping make breakfast definitely was not one of those things. Still, he supposed in the long run it would only make lifeharder if he didn't try to pitch in and show that he was as willing to participate with the other aspects of life with the X-Men.
If y' gon' be here for a while, y' can't just come and go as y' please and pick the things y' gon' do. No one gets t' pick, y' just gotta grin and bear it and do what's asked. The more fuss y' make, the harder it gon' be, he realised. Rogue be happier if y' just make the effort...after everythin' I suppose it's only fair.
"Did Rogue ever tell y' I'm a great cook?" he asked.
"No, she did not," Ororo raised an eyebrow.
"I can make French toast the Cajun way."
"How does it differ from the French way?" she asked curiously.
"Ain't it obvious?" He asked, "A Cajun made it."
As he closed the fridge, he was almost certain he saw the face of his adoptive father reflected in the shining handle, and startled, he almost dropped the eggs.
"Careful," Ororo moved over to catch the other end of the large tray.
"Sorry...hand hurt a little more than I thought it would," he lied, wishing he hadn't had to acknowledge that his hand was hurt. Still at least for that moment it was easier than talking about a haunting.
Keep the ghost t' y' self, he told himself sternly. Y' never know what kind of crazy they gon' think y' are if it gets out.
Rogue awoke that morning to her eight o'clock alarm, finding herself dangling over the end of her bed still in uniform. As she lay there for several moments, trying to wake, memories flitted in and out of the last things that had happened, the mission last night, getting home, managing to get one boot off before deciding she'd rest for just a moment to gain back some energy before attempting to get the rest of her uniform off to change for bed.
She hadn't realised she was so tired that she'd actually fall asleep and sleep solidly for so long. All the same, she wished she hadn't fallen asleep this way, as she was boiling in her uniform, and her hair was soaked with so much sweat that it had gotten rather tangled as she'd moved during the night. She remembered that there was supposed to be a training session at nine. She hastily stripped, feeling a little achy from last night's mission and the poor sleeping position, and she rushed to get in the shower glad that half of the students were still on summer vacation and she didn't have to wait in line.
It was nice having access to all her own clothes again, her hair dryer, her straighteners, her makeup. She rushed getting ready though, tying her hair back in a ponytail for convenience and only putting on a little eyeliner and lipstick, not having too much time to focus on her appearance. It mattered very little, she'd be training in the Danger Room later anyway, she'd have to get into another uniform and get sweaty all over again.
Still...she didn't want anyone seeing her without makeup all the same. Remy had seen it enough recently, she didn't want to subject anyone else to that horror so early in the morning.
By the time she got downstairs, she could smell breakfast and coffee; both were equally inviting as she tiredly sauntered down the hall to the kitchen. The smells in the kitchen were particularly good this morning and as she entered she took a moment to gaze around. It surprised her a little to see Remy standing at the stove, flipping French toast at the griddle. The serving platters on the kitchen table this morning were loaded with freshly made French toast (at least three different types from what she could see) and bacon.
"Who let him near the food?" she asked tiredly, trying to sound as irritable as possible to build the illusion of not caring for him in the slightest.
"Have you tasted this guy's French toast?" asked Tabitha, she was up bright and early for a Saturday, her hair in pigtails, her make up a little thick for this rather early hour of eight. "It's amaze-balls," the blonde admitted enthusiastically, "especially the cinnamon one."
Scott was sitting at one end of the table, his plate loaded with French toast. "Gotta admit – the guy knows how to cook. This definitely beats the French toast Hank makes."
"Anyone can make French toast," Rogue commented, she moved to the counter to pour herself some coffee.
"Yeah? When's the last time you make French toast?" Remy asked, "or make a meal for anyone?"
"Burn," Bobby Drake chuckled from where he sat near the end of the table.
Rogue shot him a look, "I made you meatloaf once."
"Yeah, once, and it was dry and tasteless."
Nice, thought Rogue. He's makin' it seem like a rivalry so that we don't even seem to like each other much.
"Thems fightin' words," Jamie teased, Rogue didn't like the way he made fun of her accent.
"At least my food doesn't have twenty five scotch bonnets in it and blow the roof off your mouth," Rogue pointed out to Remy. "That one time you cooked for me Ah think you were tryin' to kill me. Ah couldn't even eat it."
Remy stopped at what he was doing, he was standing there at the stove, staring into space for a moment, then quietly, he put down the utensil he was using. "Y' wan' finish up here?" he asked of Ororo, "think I need t' get some air, lil' too hot over this stove."
"Of course," Ororo took over at the stove, as Remy moved for the back door.
Rogue watched, feeling a little confused about his sudden departure. No one seemed too bothered about it, no one knew how to read him, no one knew him well enough to know that he was upset about something.
Then it struck her what she'd said...why he'd been upset.
Fuck, she bit her lip.
"Damn," she sighed, making a show of being rather inconvenienced.
"What?"
"He's bein' stupid. He's so damn sensitive about his stupid cooking. Like he's some sort of five star gourmet or something. He's probably going to sulk until Ah apologise."
"Seriously?" asked Bobby laughing a little, "that's lame."
"Yeah, that's gay," commented Jamie.
"Jamie," warned Ororo, displeased with the comment.
"Sorry...but it's stupid," Jamie apologised feebly.
"Are you sure he's all right?" Ororo looked at Rogue curiously.
"He's...fine, he just takes things far too seriously some times when he puts the effort in to do something," Rogue tried to explain as she headed for the back door. The excuse she realised seemed rather lame but it was much better than trying to put it to anything else or trying to explain the real reasoning. "Ah better go dry his tears and tell him his French toast is awesome before he has a fit and threatens to pack up his apron and chefs hat and leave the premises."
"Try not to take too long, you don't have long before your Danger Room session."
Rogue thought it odd to be having a session after breakfast, it was never advisable doing any kind of exercise on a full stomach but then she supposed any kind of mission could crop up at the most unlikely times, even after a huge meal, training was only preparation for such times she supposed.
By the time Rogue got out of the back door, Remy had already made it halfway across the rose garden, he was standing examining a white rose, expression almost absent and tired, Rogue watched him for a moment feeling horribly guilty. She wished she'd thought more carefully before opening her mouth.
What was going on in his head right then, as he stared at that rose, lost for a moment, his mind miles away. She told herself to suck it up, apologise and try to fix the damage. "Remy?"
"What?" he asked dully.
"Ah'm sorry."
"For?" he tried to look at her as if he didn't understand, it was subtle but she caught it.
She moved over slowly, "Ah...didn't mean to remind you."
"Remind me about what," he muttered, he took a seat at the shaded arbour, pushing his hands in the pockets of his hooded top. She was certain he wasn't really asking, it didn't sound as if it were a question.
Rogue came to sit beside him after a moment, deciding that from the arbour no one would see them together even if they happened to look out of the kitchen window. She wondered if it was wise to answer. Part of her wanted to talk about this, the other part of her didn't want to hear it, didn't want to know things that he might tell her. It was an awkward position to be in.
After a moment, he grunted, "I'm fine. Jus' fucking tired. I didn't fucking sleep, stupid fucking cheap-ass, mother fucking stupid springy-ass, creaky-ass fucking stupid noisy fucking wank bed."
Rogue blinked at the comment, there were far more swear words in it than was the norm for him.
"And you..." he accused after a moment, never looking at her, "y' didn' even come when y' said y' would."
"Ah told you it was gonna be difficult..."
"I know that," he muttered, "But I jus'...it was tough, okay. I felt like I barely saw y' at all yesterday. And...it was my first night...it...it jus' felt weird, bein' alone is all..."
"Oh."
"Is this how it's gon' be?"
Rogue felt he was deliberately trying to change the subject, trying to distract her from what she really felt he needed to talk about. That was how it always worked...him turning the tables and she didn't want to go back to arguments she felt they'd already had.
"Remy...maybe it'd help to...talk..." she tentatively placed a hand on his arm and stroked it gently.
"About?"
"About...what happened-"
"Nothin' happened," he interrupted.
"Remy, you stormed out in the middle of makin' breakfast because of a stupid joke. Ah had to lie and tell them you were pissed off because Ah insulted your cookin'..."
"You did insult my cookin'."
"Ah was just tryin' to keep up the pretence."
"How much y' love me, Rogue?" he asked quite suddenly. "I mean...is this gon' be me pretendin' for a while t' go on with this stupid we hardly like each other stupidity just to keep you happy and then you gon' end up dumpin' me and denyin' anythin' ever happened anyway?"
"No, of course not!" she gaped at him.
He turned to look at her, struggling to meet with her eyes, his cheeks flushed a little, "How much y' love me...?"
Rogue swallowed hard, "You know how much...you think Ah would have stayed for what Ah did if Ah didn't?"
He dropped his eyes to her hand on his arm, "I can understand y' wantin' t' deny we got married, Rogue. 'Cause we're young...y' probably scared what people gon' say...like that we're bein' stupid and immature...that's it's jus' a mistake, teenage romance, gon' burn out, all that jazz..." he sighed, he stood up slowly, shrugging out of her reach, "but what I don' understand is if y' love me that much...why y' would wan' t' deny we t' gether at all. Why y' would want me t' pretend like we hate each other..."
"Ah told you...Ah don't need the speculation and neither do you..."
"Who gives a fuck about the speculation!" he snapped loudly. "Let them fucking speculate!"
"Ssh!" she pleaded of him, "please..."
Remy took one step closer, looking down at her, "how long for? How long are y' askin' me t' play this fucked up game."
"Ah don't know...maybe a few months."
"Few months of...what? Pretendin' like we're barely friends...no bein' together...not alone...ever?"
"Not...ever..." she sighed, "Just...really really secret...nothin' has to change...Ah swear..."
He looked away from her, his chest seemed to sink as he sighed. Rogue felt incredibly guilty about this, she wasn't sure she could really explain why it had to be this way to him any better than she had, she couldn't stand the thought of anyone knowing about this relationship right now, she couldn't stand the thought of them thinking she was foolish for being sucked into his charm or them wondering what it was he saw in her. She couldn't stand the thought of trying to explain it right now when she barely felt she understood it herself.
"If y' don' love me, Rogue, I'd rather hear it now and leave before I make an ass of myself tryin' t' fit in here. I'd rather just have it straight."
"Remy, Ah do..."
"But y' want t' not be my wife..."
"Remy, it's not about what Ah want, and you know that. It's gonna be forced whether we want it or not."
"Why? Why should it be? We're eighteen, we have the legal right t' be married, no one can say any different."
"The Professor, he's going to press for this annulment, Ah know what he'll be thinkin'...it's like you said, he'll be thinkin' it's a stupid teenage romance, and it's going to complicate things..."
Remy stared off into the distance for some moment, his expression reflective, "if it came down t' choice, Rogue, what would y' choice be?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to sound innocent and vague; she already understood the question far better than she was letting on.
"If..." he looked at her, seeming to be struggling to keep his eyes on hers, "it weren't up to the Professor, what would your choice be?"
She hated herself for lying to him, knowing that the truth would devastate him too much; she'd seen him in a downward spiral in just a few short weeks, she couldn't add to that. What did it matter if she lied, what different would it make? Neither of them had any choice in this. "My choice would be that...we'd stay married," she managed, the words left an odd taste of guilt on her tongue.
"And that's your feelin' on the matter?" he asked seriously, his eyes burning right into hers, his expression was the most serious she'd ever seen it.
Rogue gave a firm nod, all the while hating that she had lied. It wasn't that she didn't want to be with him. She cared deeply for him, but she didn't want to be tied to him in this absurd fashion when they barely knew the bones of each other. She wanted to start from the beginning, have the real experience, the girlfriend experience, being together for a good while, the surprise of perhaps an engagement in some years...perhaps a marriage in front of her friends. She wanted the possibilities, the little surprises...not the certainty.
Remy was about to say something, but Rogue's communicator went off, cutting him off before he could even get a single word out.
"Rogue, could you and Gambit please come to my office."
Rogue took the communicator from her pocket and spoke into it, "we'll be there in a moment, Professor." She pocketed the communicator and turned to lead the way, "come on," she beckoned.
"Marie..." he began, his voice soft, he held onto the sleeve of her mesh blouse and he pulled her back gently.
"Ah told you not to call me that here," she warned.
"We need t' talk," he decided.
"Later...we have to go see the Professor..."
"Now."
"Can't it wait?"
"It's important..."
Rogue stopped and looked at him expectantly, almost wondering if now after everything he might have decided he wanted to open up about things, admit to things, get things off of his chest.
"We go t' the Professor's office...I'm sure there's a good chance he's gon' wan' talk t' us about the annulment..." Remy looked guilty as his eyes moved from her.
"Yeah...Ah figured," she shrugged.
"Thing is...I'm certain he can't push f' us t' get an annulment..."
"Just because Ah'm eighteen?" Rogue sighed.
"Not jus' cause y' eighteen, chere. Because...our marriage is legal..."
Rogue groaned, "Remy, we've been over this a hundred times...Ah used a fake name...You even had a fake marriage license pulled up from nowhere..."
"Law states I married a person, not a name..." Remy seemed to swallow, "and 'cause I was fully aware of y' usin' an alias, it means technically I was a willin' participant."
"Even then-" Rogue snorted, "it's not legal. You even had the date faked."
"The copy I show Jean-Luc was fake...but the weddin'...it was real. I'll admit, I bribed a few officials t' fast track shit with the license so y' didn' even have t' be there, but...everythin' is gon' look square on paper, chere. Far as the law sees it, it's real."
"But-"
"And...we finalised it."
Rogue tilted her head, staring at him blankly, "What?"
"On the yacht..."
"Remy, what the heck are you talkin' about? Have you been drinkin' again?"
"On the yacht, Marie...we consummated the marriage...as far as the law is concerned, our marriage is legal and bindin'."
For a moment, it seemed as everything around her went silent, she could barely hear anything after he said the word consummated. She felt blank, blood running cold, heart seeming to stop beating. Just like that, suddenly every thought of fake marriage came an impossible reality. They'd been legally married and for days now it had been binding. How could she have been legally married and not realised? How could it have not occurred to her?
Swallowing hard, "you...you..."
"I've tried t' tell y'...yesterday before y' left for the mission, I tried..."
"You...you tricked me," she felt her vision blurring a little.
"I never tricked y'..." he sighed, his expression guilty, "I...thought at the time y' understood. I asked y' if y' was sure..."
"You never said at the time that it would finalise our fucking marriage!" Rogue threw her hands out and pushed him roughly.
"Y' asked if nothin' would change and I told y' it wouldn't, I thought y' understood the-"
"You lied to me!"
"I never lied! I was honest the entire time! It ain' my fault y' didn' know that-"
"Oh my god," Rogue put a hand to her head, she felt dizzy and sick, her heart was suddenly racing with the ramifications. "Ah think Ah'm gonna be sick..."
"Y' said it y' self jus' now, if y' had the choice y' would stay married."
Ah said that, why did Ah say that!? God, he manipulated me, Ah should have expected it from him. "You weren't straight with me!" Rogue accused, "You knew Ah didn't understand and you were countin' on it. You wanted me to not know what it meant...so that you could get your goddamn way. Now Ah know what you meant on the yacht when you said it had to be right then. Ah thought at the time you were tryin' to say that it would be our only chance to be together, ever. Not that it was our last chance to finalise the goddamn marriage before anyone could intervene!" she pushed him again, he stepped back a few feet.
"I love you," was all he could say, his expression guilty and sad like a dog who had done wrong and couldn't look the master in the eye.
Rogue almost laughed at how preposterous it was that he seemed to think that was going to fix things. She stood there shaking her head, "now...now we have to go to the Professor's office and talk about this goddamn mess!"
"What will y' say?" he asked quietly.
She was shuddering with anger. She wasn't sure what she'd say, "lets go, the Professor is waiting for us."
They walked together, avoiding the back door and entering the mansion through patio doors leading into a formal living room; Rogue didn't want the others to see how angry she was right now and she didn't want to have to elaborate to them why she and Remy were being called in to the Professor's office.
The silence between them was stony and cold as they walked to the office, Rogue so angry she could have hit him more viciously than just a push or two. Remy was so sheepish and never even looking in her direction. Suddenly she understood all too well why he couldn't look at her, it had nothing to do with his embarrassment over a poor sexual performance, it was that he had lied to her. He'd been lying to her for days.
The Professor was sitting at his desk when the two entered the office, his desk as usual was buried beneath a stack of papers, bills that needed sorting, newspapers that had yet to be read, letters that hadn't even been opened yet. He raised his head from something he had been going over.
"I'm sorry to call you both away from breakfast," the Professor admitted, "But I didn't want to wait longer to discuss the situation with you as these things can be rather time sensitive, and so many weeks have already passed."
Rogue eased herself into a seat opposite the Professor's desk, Remy had to stand, there was no second chair. "Is this about the annulment?" she asked, wishing to be straightforward about it as possible. There was no point in pretending to be in the dark about this; she tried to force back her anger and focus on being calm and relaxed, she slouched in the chair a little, although she was certain even that probably seemed forced.
"Yes," the Professor said, "I've spoken with my lawyer, and she has agreed to come tomorrow to speak with you both about the situation and what steps need to be taken. She'll want to be sure that before any further action is taken that you meet the legal requirements."
And there it was, she had to admit to something. She could either lie, and tell the Professor that they met every requirement, that their marriage was a fraud and nothing had ever been consummated. Of course, the problem with that was that Remy could rebuke it.
There was always the other option.
Rogue turned to look at Remy, he stood looking thoroughly upset, his eyes clouded. She'd never seen him look so genuinely guilty before. She almost expected smugness, a sense of pride that he'd gotten away with his plan, but instead, he looked the opposite of how she'd expect.
"Professor," Rogue swallowed, "Why is it so important we get an annulment? We're eighteen..."
"You rushed off to get married for reasons that are no longer valid or required. You are both so young, and neither of you have finished high school," the Professor explained, "marriage is a rather large commitment for someone so young..."
Rogue turned to look at Remy again, his expression was so sullen, he said nothing. He wasn't fighting him on this as she'd expected.
"As selfish as it may sound, I do also worry that perhaps your being married may influence my other students to entertain the notion...especially those who have been together a while."
"Like Jean and Scott you mean," Rogue realised.
Remy gave a soft sigh, he was looking to the floor, Rogue gave him one last glance. In the past three weeks his life had been turned upside down, shaken and torn up all at once. There was nothing stable in his life, nothing at all and he was about to begin an entirely new life she was certain he didn't entirely trust or want.
There was only one thing he seemed to want to cling to, one thing he asked of her, one selfish little demand. They stay married. She couldn't imagine why he would even want to be married to her, couldn't find anything in herself that he would love. The thought of devastating him with news that she didn't want to be married had been heartbreaking, and right now, the thought of tearing this away from him, of lying about things to suit herself and the Professor...it tore her heart into pieces for him.
He's lost his father, his brother, his life in a guild, he's had a drinkin' problem...he's had some pretty horrific things happen to him as a kid, she reminded herself, she bit her lip. And now...the Professor is askin' him to give up a wife too.
"The thing is," Rogue sighed, she wrung her hands nervously, "Is...that everythin' as far as we know is legal and bindin' about this marriage."
"I've had my lawyer do some investigation – which has taken days – and even she agrees that all of the paper work eerily authentic considering the circumstances. I'm rather impressed by how fantastically well all the i's have been dotted and the t's have been crossed when it comes to this. But still, considering your unique circumstances with your powers-"
It was her chance right then to lie, to say that nothing had happened. She could give in to the Professor, she could lose that battle. Or...she could lose her battle with Remy, who right now perhaps more than ever needed to win at least one battle in his life. One personal triumph.
Either way, she had to give in to someone. She wasn't sure if it was instinct or merely infatuation and affection for Remy clouding her judgement. She already new her decision, she just hoped she wasn't about to make a huge mistake.
"Like I said..." Rogue's eyes fell to the floor, her cheeks flushed, "everythin' is legal and bindin' about this marriage."
There was a thick silence in the room; Rogue felt Remy's eyes briefly shift to her, he was watching her, perhaps not expecting her to have admitted it. The only sound in the office was the heavy ticking of the clock on the mantle.
"I..." the Professor paused after a moment, trying to come to grips with this information, she could see it made him extremely uncomfortable, "I want to be sure that we are both referring to the same thing..." he tried delicately.
"Ah'm not gonna be graphic," Rogue said quietly, "the marriage was finalised before we came back to Bayville. Everythin' was consentin'...we knew exactly what we were doin'."
"I...see," the Professor paused, "is...this what you want?"
No...it wasn't what she wanted. It was what Remy wanted. She herself wanted simplicity, she didn't want a married life in the way Remy seemed to. Right now, she had to be sure she forced those thoughts out of her mind so the Professor couldn't tell she was lying (although she was certain he'd probably sensed it already).
"We can keep this really quiet, Professor, and we agreed we would. No one has to know anythin'. We won't expect any leverage or special treatment or allowances to be made. All we ask is...that this just be dropped and we're let be."
"Have you thought this over?" the Professor queried, "I mean really considered this?"
"Yes," Rogue replied, trying to sound confident, "we agreed that if it didn't work out we'd divorce quietly if it comes to that, and no one would ever have to know."
Again, she felt Remy's eyes on her.
"Then, if it is as you say and this...marriage has been consummated then...there is nothing more I can do. I shall call my lawyer once more to go over everything to be sure of all these things. I just...hope you both are certain."
Rogue nodded.
"Y' could at least say y' hope we gon' be happy," Remy said quietly, his expression a little dark.
"It goes without saying, Gambit," the Professor said, "I also hope that it goes to say that I expect you will refrain from certain fraternization under this roof. You are free to publicly date and show your feelings for each other – but be discrete about certain aspects of your relationship, and please, not under my roof."
"Don't worry," Rogue said, "nothin' is gonna happen here..." she stood up, "Is that everything?"
"That will be all," the Professor nodded, "if either of you need to discuss your situations, if you ever need to talk about anything...then please do not hesitate to come see me."
"We will," Rogue said. She paused, "Professor..."
"Yes?"
"Can...can you please keep this from Logan..."
Rogue felt Remy's eyes on her again, questioning. She tried to shake off the feeling he suspected things again.
"Tell him that...we're gonna stay married but...Ah...don't want him knowin'...about the...you know...the private stuff..."
"I can be discrete, Rogue."
She and Remy left the office together; when they were halfway down the hall, Remy stopped her, taking her by the arm.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
"For what?" she scoffed, looking away from him, "telling the truth? For being honest?"
"For not takin' this away from me..." his voice was soft, a little thick.
"Look, I get it, Remy," she sighed, "Ah have to make some sacrifices...Ah have for this entire thing, and you know that," she pointed out. "But you gotta give a little too," she explained, "Ah need you to keep schtum about everythin' for now. It's all Ah ask. Please."
His expression was clouded with misery still, he sighed, "What y' gon' tell Logan if he asks why we stayin' married?"
"Ah'll...tell him that we decided that...we wanted to stay married and it's no one else's business what we do...Now come on...we gotta get breakfast and then get to that Danger Room session."
End of Part Four
Let it be noted, I'm not a lawyer, I don't work in any kind of sector related to marriage and neither am I married (if I was I doubt I'd be finding enough time to write this stuff lol). I know the situation above regarding Remy and Rogue's marriage is NOT how it would work in the real world, but this is the world of fiction. If this was real world, Rogue wouldn't have powers, Gambit wouldn't be seeing ghosts and Logan wouldn't be reading Lolita as far as Gambit suspects. Hopefully I'm not going to get flamed for my misunderstanding of how it would work, etc. Hopefully also not going to be chewed out too badly over my writing of Tabitha, I never really spent much time over her character before, so I'm not going to have her character down pat much (or at all), all I can do is try, lol.
Anyway as I type this, it's almost 1am on the 24th of December, so yay, I got one more part in before Christmas as promised, and I'll hopefully perhaps manage to get one more in before the end of 2014.
Huge thanks to those who have taken the time to review so far. I hope those who are reading are having an awesome December, and I hope you'll all have a great Christmas (or whatever the equivalent of your holiday this time of year may be) and Happy New Year (or as we say here in Scotland, Happy Hogmanay!).