BENEATH THE SURFACE

Part Six

** Just a quick note to say, expect a few references to child abuse here (not much of a surprise, as good bulk of storyline based around it, but anyway). Also want to state don't get caught up in the paragraphs about the mission, it's just filler, it's not important too relevant to the story. I'm not great at writing mission type stories so that won't be going far, lol. I just needed Rogue and Gambit to be separated for a bit lol. Anyway, hope you all enjoy!

Three days.

Three days had passed – four he supposed if he counted the Saturday night - and Rogue had not called. Every waking hour of those three days he had sat wondering when that phone call was going to come. Every other hour, he asked himself why hadn't she called yet?

There should have been plenty to distract himself with; Professor Xavier had given him permission to go into the Danger Room to start training with the New Mutants – as long as he was careful with his hand. Training in the Danger Room with the X-Babies didn't really cut it as far as he was concerned and it certainly wasn't enough to distract him. He disliked the idea of having to train with – as far as he was concerned – novices.

It wasn't so much that Remy felt it beneath him to be included with the New Mutants rather than the X-Men (although it was irritating as they were younger and much more immature). What bothered him was that the training level for them was so low in comparison to the X-Men's training level that he was sure he would never learn anything useful nor actually catch up to them. The past few training sessions he had attended had been rather easy and unsatisfying; he'd brought it up with the Professor after the first session but Professor Xavier had thought it a wise idea to put him in with the New Mutants to give him time to adjust to the pace of training while learning to work as a team in a slightly less stressful environment than it would be to be put right into the X-Men.

Remy had a different feeling on the matter. He couldn't help but wonder if the Professor was trying to prevent him from joining the X-Men because there was a chance of liability about him. Logan and Rogue had said a lot about him behind his back, that was certainly the case, and in Remy's opinion it had clearly swayed the Professor's decision to keep him in the 'kiddie pool' so he didn't get in the way of the X-Men's Olympic swim.

It was frustrating, but he wasn't in the mood to argue, he had neither the energy nor the head for it. He supposed he could always walk out if he couldn't get his own way or be given a fair chance, but walking away meant walking away from Rogue, and that wasn't going to happen. They knew that. They were counting on that.

They're countin' on my feelin's f' Rogue t' make sure I do what they want, Remy had thought dully.

When Monday had came, Kitty Pryde and Jean Grey arrived back from their Summer vacations, coming back a few weeks before School was due to begin so that they could train a little and settle in before the next semester started. Kitty Pryde would be starting her senior year, and Jean Grey would be attending Bayville Community college (along with Scott) although Remy had no interest in asking what her chosen subjects were.

Jean's announcement to him that she would be attending Bayville Community College had thrown him a little. Remy knew very little about academics, having left school some years before, but what he knew of Jean Grey he understood one thing; The girl was Ivy League material, and going to a college in Bayville seemed rather disappointing and beneath her. His spying the year before on the X-Men, he had learned all kinds of useful information, and Jean Grey was definitely the type of girl who should have been going to prestigious college with her high grade point average, her various credits and experience with organising events and charities. On paper, she looked exceptional, and he himself almost felt slightly disappointed she was throwing away the chance to go to somewhere like Harvard or Yale to go to Bayville Community College.

One of the younger students had asked Jean about it casually but she played it off with excuses about excellent professors and her commitment to the X-Men. While she'd been speaking, the entire time she'd been glancing towards Scott at the opposite side of the lunch table; he'd known right then exactly why she'd stayed.

He'd thought the notion of it foolish – forsaking a bright future for the sake of love...

And then he had realised it wasn't all that different from his moving all the way to Bayville to be with Rogue. He supposed the difference was he hadn't exactly forsaken a bright future to be with her though, he hadn't given up much of anything, as he hadn't had much of anything to give up. Rogue was the only thing he had that meant anything any more and right now he couldn't even talk to her.

With Rogue gone, Remy couldn't even find the motivation to try and interact with others and would find alternative things to do while the others retired to the recreation room after dinner. He'd started painting his room on Sunday night and been using it as an excuse to be on his own. He'd been offered help but didn't want the inconvenience of having to make conversation (which he'd surely have to if someone was to come and help out). The colour he'd chosen to pain the room was scarlet red; he'd thought at first it might have looked good, might have made it look warm and inviting but by the time he'd finished that Tuesday afternoon, he realised all it did was make the room look angry...made the walls seem as if they might be bleeding.

Should have stuck with a nice blue colour, somethin' calm and cool, Remy thought dully as he wiped his paint splattered hands on an old rag, he gazed upon his work. He didn't like it, but he'd known he hadn't liked until the moment he'd touched the roller to the wall. By then, it had been far too late to go back...he'd marked the wall in far too obvious a place to hide. Besides...he had made a decision, he had to stick by it.

If he could live with the X-Men, then he could certainly live with red walls...

"Red...?"

Remy turned to look at the open doorway of his room, Tabitha stood with her hip against the doorframe, arm behind her head as she let her eyes travel across the room. Her blonde hair was in loose curls, framing her feminine (although thickly) painted face.

"Nice colour, no?" Remy asked, wiping his hands. He'd rather pretend to like the colour than admit what a disastrous mistake it had been to pick that colour. He supposed it was always a mistake ordering paint online, he'd had no clue how that colour would look on this wall.

"Looks a little dark," Tabitha stepped in, "totally makes the room look smaller..."

Remy supposed he agreed, he let his eyes travel from wall to wall, hiding his dissatisfaction.

"Why red? Match your pretty eyes?" Tabitha teased.

"Powerful colour," Remy replied, "Colour of energy and passion."

"And blood..." Tabitha touched the wall, which was still wet, her finger left a smudge on the wall, she made a face.

"I just finished that," he muttered, picking up the roller to touch up where she'd left a long finger mark.

"I thought that part was dry," she commented, she wiped her paint-smeared finger upon his paint-splattered shirt to be rid of it.

"Why is it that whenever a wall is painted, it's like...some kind o' magnet drawin' people t' touch it...?" he wondered uneasily. "Mystery of the universe I suppose, jus' like there's no explanation for why there's always plenty of toilet paper in the bathroom up until the minute y' already on the throne takin' a dump...or how it's always when y' want t' sleep the most that y' just can't and when y' want t' stay awake all y' feel like y' wan' do is sleep," he supposed.

Tabitha gave a slight laugh, "yeah...I suppose."

He put the roller back down on the tray. "What y' in here for anyway? Ain' there rules about girls in the rooms of boys 'round these parts."

"Not with the door open...and not during the day," Tabitha said.

"So...?"

"I need to ask a favour," Tabitha admitted, "I need a ride into town."

"So...?" he asked again.

"I got my license suspended."

"For...?" Remy raised an eyebrow.

"For doing eighty down a one way street in a twenty mile per hour zone..." she flashed a grin.

"Much as I'd like t' help y' out," Remy rolled his neck, it hurting from craning his neck painting all afternoon, "I don' got a car."

"What about that green piece of crap under a dust sheet in the garage?" she asked pointedly.

"That car is a classic," he frowned. "It's a 1956 Ford Zodiac I'll have y' know."

"It's the colour of puke."

"It's sage," he muttered.

"It's a car isn't it?"

"I ain' had the plates changed," Remy replied.

"So?"

"Cops in this town like t' pick on y' f' that. I don' need t' be pulled over f' havin' the wrong plates."

"Oh come on, law breaker Gambit is scared of license plate laws?" Tabitha laughed.

"I'm tryin' t' start fresh here, tryin' t' go straight."

"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it," Tabitha smirked, "Anyway, you can totally take the X-Van. It's cool."

"Yeah, I don't have permission for that," Remy tossed her a look.

Tabitha let out a tinkling laugh, "permission? The professional thief who did all that illegal work for Magneto is apprehensive about borrowing a van? Wow, you are so not who I thought you were. What happened to you?"

"Nothin' happened, I'm jus' sick of that life. I'm not a kid any more, I need t' grow up and stop the criminal activities," he answered. Regretfully, even without meaning to, he thought Before I end up like Jean-Luc.

"Okay fine, but can't you just do this?"

"Why not just the bus int' town, it's like, what, five minutes away to the nearest stop?"

"Ten," Tabitha remarked, "it's raining out there, I'm not walking ten minutes just to stand at a bus stop and wait another thirty for a bus. Come on. There isn't even a shelter at that stop, I'd get soaked."

"Get someone else."

"There is no one else. Scott took Jean out to see a matinee, Kitty went to the library, every one is just totally busy. The Professor is out in some business meeting, and Logan is downstairs in the war room...he doesn't want to be disturbed. I don't even know where Ororo is right now."

Probably bangin' Logan in the war room, Remy thought darkly.

"Look, I'm kind of busy..."

Tabitha looked at him, her expression changed, "Please...?"

Remy stood for a moment, trying to read her; he was surprised that with the kind of person she was that she hadn't just disobeyed the rules and went out without a license anyway. If she was careful enough, no one would probably even find out. There was something else he couldn't put his finger on, and then he realised that just like him, she had not left the grounds in the past week and a half either. It hadn't struck him until that moment. It was odd...for a girl who in his spying experience had always been a social butterfly, flitting here there and everywhere, going out to parties, to the mall, anywhere there was life. Once, she'd been the kind of girl who was never home, and now she always was.

She hadn't left the institute since he had been there.

It was slightly intriguing.

"Just a ride, that's it...?" Remy queried, wondering if perhaps it might do him good to get away from the grounds for a little while too. He realised it had been a week and a half here and he hadn't left the grounds at all either.

"Just to the store...just to pick up some supplies," she promised.

"Fine," he muttered, "but if I get in trouble for borrowin' the van, you're takin' the rap."

"Of course," she nodded.

Remy had to shower and change before he could even think about getting into the X-Men's van, which had just been detailed. Tabitha had waited down in the garage for him; when he got down there, he had found it odd that she'd changed her clothes, her hair tied in a ponytail, a baseball cap shading her face. She wore a slightly baggy hooded shirt that Remy was sure belonged to Scott, and her jeans were loose fitting and seemed far too long for her, they seemed to belong to a boy by the looks of the cut.

She's dressed unlike herself...and she ain' wearin' makeup either, Remy realised as he approached, "y' got the keys?"

Tabitha tossed them towards him, "here."

As they drove, Tabitha frustratingly kept changing radio stations thirty seconds into every song, regardless whether she liked the songs or not, singing bits and pieces of things.

"What is it y' goin' for?" he asked when they were coming into town, he wasn't even sure where they were heading for.

"I need some stuff from the store."

"There's more than one store in Bayville...y' gon' have t' be a bit more specific or I won' know where t' go to," Remy rolled his eyes at her, she was being incredibly vague.

Tabitha shrugged down into her seat, she was looking in the wing mirror curiously, Remy wondered if she was admiring herself. "Wherever sells Tampons."

Fantastic, thought Remy. He could have done without that elaboration on what she needed. Couldn't she have just admitted she needed a drug store, or somewhere that sold hygiene products?

"Fine, so...the Baymart then," Remy took the left turn heading towards the small 'Walmart' wannabe store called Baymart. He almost expected Tabitha to object (as this place was rather dingy and depressing to shop in) but she said nothing.

He parked the van near the front entrance, watching the wipers swish the heavy rain from the windows, "here y' go."

Tabitha sat there for a moment in the van, not moving, she seemed distracted, concerned.

"Hey..." he nudged her.

She turned and looked at him, "can you come in with me?"

"Pardon?"

"C' mon..." she urged, reaching for her door.

"What y' need me for? T' carry the shoppin' basket? All y' goin' in for is some tampax...y' don't need me for that."

"Look, just...come in, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm asking..."

Remy observed her for a moment. He couldn't quite imagine why she was nervous about going into the store on her own, why she had waited this long to go anywhere. But he was more intrigued. Rogue would have probably told him it was none of his business and to let it go...but Rogue wasn't there.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, he climbed out, he took his sunglasses out and put them on, Tabitha giving him a strange look as she followed.

"Sunglasses...really?" Tabitha asked seeming slightly confused.

"Wit' these eyes, really."

"It's raining...there's no sun for miles. That's going to look more suspicious than a guy with black and red eyes, Gambit."

"Look, it make people less nervous t' see my eyes. Y' wouldn' understand, y' one of the lucky ones who got t' look completely normal."

"I am normal," Tabitha frowned a little.

"So am I," he pointed out, "But I don' look it, that make people nervous. Y' know how they look at Mutants in this town."

In the store, Remy followed her from aisle to aisle as she picked up various things. At first he'd had to pretend to politely look the other way as she stood forever picking out her tampons, and then, it was carrying the basket as she loaded it with chocolate, ice cream, potato chips and other such items. Remy gazed into the basket, wondering if he should point out that if she was going to eat all of these items she was likely to put on about twenty pounds. In fact, as he thought about it, the girl had seemed to have gotten a little softer around the edges as of late.

Never mention a woman's weight, touchy subject, he reminded himself. He'd learned that one when he was fourteen and had commented on a girl at school's pudginess. The girl had kicked him between the legs for the comment; he'd never made that mistake again.

"Tabitha..."

Remy turned to see the man in his forties, dirty blonde hair slicked back, looking greasy and unwashed. The guy seemed vaguely familiar to him in ways he couldn't explain; maybe it was that he and Tabitha's eyes were the same shape, except that Tabitha's eyes were brighter, more alive, and this guy...had the yellowing eyes of an alcoholic.

Tabitha dropped the item she'd been holding – a two litre bottle of Pepsi. It bounced and rolled towards the feet of the man whose name she gasped under her breath, "dad..."

"You're a hard girl to get a hold of these days."

Tabitha stepped back right into Remy, nearly knocking him backwards, he almost dropped the basket. "You're not supposed to be here..."

"I just want to talk."

"No..."

"Come on, Tabby-cat, don't be like that..." he slurred.

"There's a restraining order," Tabitha swallowed hard, her voice was trembling.

"Look—just five minutes."

Tabitha shifted behind Remy, he turned to look at her and saw the look in her eyes, he recognised it only because he'd seen it in his own eyes in the mirror before. When she looked at this man – this guy she'd called dad – she saw something of a threat. Then he realised why she had been hiding in the institute, why she had wanted him to come along today. It was almost as if she had expected this would happen.

"She said no," Remy warned.

"Look, I don't know who you are-" began Tabitha's father, his voice was lazy, thick and cold. He was clearly inebriated. Remy wondered how he had even managed to locate them...had he followed them somehow? In a car? Remy hadn't noticed any cars following them; it would have been obvious surely if someone had been drink driving at the back of the van.

Remy dropped the basket to the floor, sweeping his glasses off with the other hand, "I'm the guy that's gon' cause a scene if y' don' get out of our faces," he said, "mutant causes any kind o' chaos in this place, police be out in no time," he looked the man up and down, reading him. Broken nose – looked like it had been broken more than a few times, and those eyes...so yellow, just like Jean-Luc's...the kind of eyes that were likely to glow in the dark if someone switched the lights out. Poorly done tattoo done on his hand, probably hand done, prison most likely. Jeans had seen better days, boots were both damaged, one sole coming away at the front, guy hadn't got a penny to his name.

And there was something about the way he looked at his daughter that Remy was all too familiar with.

"A mutant causes trouble in this town, it take the police two minutes t' be here. Police station is only 'round the corner and their response time is outstandin' in Bayville. All it'd take..." Remy held up his glasses and to begin to charge them, the black plastic beginning to glow as the kinetic energy of his powers began to charge. "Is f' me t' make a lil' bang...threaten a few security guards...and then leave y' here t' take the blame. See, I'm pretty proficient at escapin'...I'm a mutant...and so is y' daughter..." he gestured over his shoulder, he felt Tabitha grab his wrist nervously. "But you...y' a human...and not even a healthy one at that. It's one in the afternoon and y' smell like Whiskey...y' drunk and y' ain' gon' have the reflexes t' get away from the cops."

"Tabitha..." sighed the girl's father, his expression dark and stern.

"Like I said...y' leave...or y' gon' know all about trouble. I won' tell y' a third time."

"We'll talk," the man said to his daughter, almost warningly, and then spun on his heel, almost knocking over a display of hotdog cans, and left.

Tabitha stood silent, almost frozen. Remy drew the energy back from the sunglasses and put them back on, he turned to look at her, her eyes wide, glassy, tears threatening to spill.

"He's gone, y' can relax."

"No I can't...he's...always around, always following..."

"It's okay..." Remy squeezed her shoulder, "c'mon, lets pay for this stuff and get out of here..."

Nothing was said at the checkout; Remy found himself being landed with Tabitha's bill, as Tabitha seemed to be too lost to even function; she simply stood there at the side while he bagged and paid for the items. He had no qualms about paying, the items came to something like thirty dollars; he cared very little. Money was nothing, he had plenty of it and he understood the girl's behaviour. He understood it all too well.

As they walked to the van with her items, he saw he looking cautiously in every direction, trying to see if her father were there hanging around. Remy did not spy him anywhere in sight; he did however see Jean-Luc LeBeau, sitting in the passengers seat of a car passing by, looking at him with a dark murky grin.

Oh yes, Remy LeBeau understood far too well how Tabitha felt all right.

After loading the back with her items, Remy climbed into the drivers seat and started the van, "there anythin' else y' need t' get...anywhere else y' need t' go?"

Tabitha shook her head slowly, her eyes were misty.

Remy held the wheel, van parked in neutral for a moment, "that's why y' wanted me t' come, weren't it...y' knew he'd be lookin' for y'."

Tabitha looked away, she rested her elbow on the door, her fist against her cheek, she seemed distant, almost miles away. She said nothing.

Remy chewed the inside of his cheek, "that's why y' came back t' Bayville, t' the Institute...t' get away."

No response, but he saw the tear trickle down her face. Just an hour ago, she'd been a painted princess, a mask hiding a rather bruised little girl beneath. Only there were bruises no one could see, they were far beneath the surface, just like his.

There was a thick silence between them, the air so solid that even Logan's claws might have had a hard time slicing through. Remy swallowed hard, and said, "I know what it's like y' know."

"No," she muttered, her voice was cold and thick when she continued, "You don't know what it's like. No one knows what it's like. You don't know what you're talking about."

Remy's chest tightened, he stared out of the windshield, half expecting Jean-Luc to be looking at him from the other side. "He's fucked y', hasn't he?"

It was almost as if all the air had been sucked out of the van completely, and Tabitha turned to look at him, her expression mixed with guilt and horror; she hadn't expected him to say it like that. Not in such a direct, blatant, uncouth and vulgar way. But it was better than going one step up and calling it what it really was. The word he never liked to use for it because it made him feel far more helpless than he wanted to allow himself to feel.

The blonde said nothing, she hugged herself, lowering her head. Remy could read everything he needed to know right then, she was laid bare, walls broken down the moment that man had set foot near her. No one knew about this, no one, not even the Professor. She'd been hiding it for weeks, keeping up smiles and sassy attitude to fool everyone into thinking she was fine, painting her face thick to hide the hurt girl beneath. No one had taken the time to notice that she hadn't left the mansion for a good while...no one had asked why she'd returned to the institute at all.

As Tabitha shifted uncomfortably in her seat, a tube of mascara, two lipsticks and an eyeshadow pot fell out of her pocket, all brand new and sealed. She'd shoplifted them.

"Impressive," Remy paused, glancing down at them rolling between the seats. "I didn' even see y' do that."

The girl shrugged, turquoise eyes glimmering with the threat of more tears.

Remy picked up the eyeshadow, a gaudy colour of blue that would have looked more fitting on a drag queen than a seventeen year old girl.

"He taught me how to steal," she said quietly after a good few moments of silence. "Long before my powers kicked in."

Remy thought it ironic right then, how the girl almost reflectedhim in every way. Here she was, a thief and a victim, damaged and haunted by her own problems. It was almost like looking in a mirror. "How old was y'...the first time he did it?" he asked quietly, staring into space.

He almost thought she wouldn't answer, she had fallen so silent. And then after what felt like eternal silence broken only by the heavy rain, she said quietly, "thirteen."

Remy gripped the steering wheel hard; the thought almost made him angry. It always did when he thought of anyone in that situation. It made him angrier that the man had been a few feet from him, he'd missed a good opportunity to break the bastard's face.

"Can...we get back?" Tabitha asked with a sigh, "I want away from here..." she straightened up, sweeping her tears from her face, "ice cream will melt," she tried to sound bright, tried to change the subject.

As Remy drove silently back towards Greymalkin lane it was hard to not think of the things he'd avoided thinking of for weeks now. It almost felt as if Jean-Luc was in the back of the van with them; not just the ghost but the real Jean-Luc. Tabitha sat playing with the radio again, trying to distract herself, trying to get back into herself as she'd been before they left.

Parking back in the garage, Remy killed the engine and got out to retrieve Tabitha's groceries from the back; one of the bags had toppled and half of the items had rolled around the back of the van; he stood with his back turned to her, putting them back in, felt her presence at his back. She was hovering, somehow not knowing what to say to him. He sensed the apprehension and shame in her, and hated that he'd made her feel it.

As he placed the last item in the bag, with his back turned to her, he said quietly, "I was twelve."

He said nothing else to her as he passed the bags to her, shut the van and dropped the keys to the van into her open palm. He did not look at her, but he felt her eyes follow him as he left her standing there in the garage alone, probably realising that for the first time – just as he was right now – she was no longer alone.

Remy barely got to his room in time, his iPhone – which he had forgotten to take with him – was ringing. He picked it up, seeing an unlisted and unrecognised number; those always left him a little apprehensive as it was either usually a contact to do with his old profession, or someone trying to sell him something.

He accepted the call and put it to his ear, "hello."

"Ah've been callin' for the last hour...where were you?"

It was Rogue's voice on the other end; normally he'd have been excited to hear her voice, but at that moment, he was a little jarred from the thoughts he'd had about his childhood and from what had happened at the Baymart that Rogue's call came at a strangely inopportune moment when he hadn't had a chance to get himself properly together.

"Sorry, I..." he rubbed his neck, "I was at Baymart."

"Ah was worried maybe you were on a mission or somethin'..." she admitted, she sounded strangely so far away and an echo followed her voice so that it almost seemed like she was speaking twice. Was she still in Germany, Remy wondered, or was the mission moved further away now?

"No...just...had to take Tabitha to Baymart...she had her license suspended."

"Again?" Rogue asked, "she only just got it unsuspended..."

"Yeah, well apparently she was drivin' eighty miles up a twenty mile per hour street or somethin'," Remy pushed his door closed after looking outside to see if anyone was hanging around in the halls, "how's the mission?"

"It's a pain in the ass, we're tryin' to locate this stupid army of assholes...they're kidnappin' our mutants..."

Remy hadn't even heard of this, he realise it must have been an event that was not being reported in the newspapers.

"We found one of the bastards, but he disappeared before we could get anythin' out of him! Three more mutants are missin'...Hank is tryin' to find clues now...me and Kurt can't do much except chase down leads...it's just a case of waitin' until Hank finds the next."

"Damn," was all Remy could offer.

Rogue paused on the other end, "Remy...are you okay? You sound strange..."

"I'm fine, jus'...pissed off," he sighed, "pissed off with all this waitin' t' see you."

"It's only been...what, four days?"

"Four days is too long..." he sighed, "how much longer y' think it gon' be?"

"Hank's beginnin' to think it might be more than a week...it took us three days just to find the first lead...it's a nightmare..."

Another week? The thought was painful. He needed her here, now more than ever. His mind was rife with horrible things, the ghost of Jean-Luc was haunting him wherever he went and looking at Tabitha and knowing she'd gone through similar things was only bringing more horror to the surface.

He needed his wife now more than he ever had.

"Is everythin' all right over there?" Rogue asked.

Remy thought about it. No, not everything was all right. He was a wreck without her, and right now, he wished he had a bottle of vodka (although there was little chance of finding that here). Telling Rogue that anything was wrong was just likely to get her to worry, to notify the others at the mansion, to have him observed. He didn't need that right now.

"Everythin' is fine...other than I miss y' real bad..."

"Ah m-" Rogue was about to say, and then was interrupted; in the background she heard someone talking, the German accent was unmistakeable.

"Who is that?"

Rogue replied quickly (her voice muffled, Remy realised she had her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone), "just checkin' in at home."

Remy felt slightly deflated that she couldn't even admit she was calling him, couldn't even admit she was calling him as a friend.

"Listen, Ah gotta go," Rogue said, her voice a little whisper now, Remy suspected she'd gone into a different room, "Ah got this temporary phone, it's one of those stupid prepay ones, Ah think the pre-paid credit is about to run out...Ah'll try to text if Ah can when Ah get some more credit on it, okay?"

"Of course...I lov-" Remy was about to say he loved her before the line went dead – the phone beeped before he had a chance to finish his sentence. Remy wondered if she'd hung up or if the money on the phone had finally run out. He saved the contact and sat at the end of his mattress (still covered with dust sheets to protect it from the fresh paint). Hearing Rogue's voice made him feel even more frustrated...and far lonelier.

And on from the corner of his room stood Jean-Luc, his eyes seemed more yellow than they ever had, and he seemed as solid as he had in life.

"Y' ain' here," Remy swallowed and closed his eyes, he grabbed for his earphones and plugged them into his iPhone and put them in quickly, selecting the first track he could find, the most convenient, blasting it as loudly as he could despite it hurt his ears. Quietly, he whispered, not able to even hear himself, "Y' ain' here...Y' ain'."

End of Part Six

Yay. It took a little while to get up but I got there. I've been so busy writing it that I sometimes forget to update it. Just finished writing part twenty-two so I'm along a fair bit (yes, it's going to be one of those long stories, as the past two were fairly quick). Hope to get another update up soon. Thanks to those who took the time to review and say such nice things about the story. Sometimes I get so paranoid that no one is reading and I get discouraged and then out of nowhere someone reviews, adds me as a favourite or follows the story and reminds me a few are still out there. I'm grateful for the reviews and for those who take interest in the story. Thank you so much!

PS. I apologise for the way Remy asked Tabitha about her abuse, but it somehow felt more like it fit than if he had pussyfooted around it. I'm sure a few are a little shocked and then not so shocked about how he left the discussion with Tabitha too.