BENEATH THE SURFACE

Part Thirteen

Remy LeBeau was furious with a ghost; it wasn't bad enough the bastard had followed them to the mall, it wasn't bad enough he'd been in every clothing store they'd hit, it wasn't bad enough that the asshole had followed him into the mens room and watched him at the urinal.

He'd been there in the car too, in the back seat.

Remy wished he hadn't looked at the rear view mirror at all; it had been force of habit, checking that the road behind them was clear of anyone coming up, that no one was going to catch them. Then he'd seen Jean-Luc there, menacing angry glare on his face. Nothing could have stopped him from losing his excitement faster than that.

The look on Rogue's face, the disappointment and the confusion, he hated that he had let Jean-Luc put that there. He hadn't been able to explain it, and even if he had tried, it would have sounded like the nonsensical ramblings of an insane person.

Sane people didn't see ghosts, weren't haunted every moment of their damn life by them.

Remy sat in the passenger's seat next to Rogue as Scott's red convertible was being pulled into the garage at the institute. He had called shotgun before Tabitha had had the chance to do so again, he didn't want to sit in that back seat where Jean-Luc had been. He didn't want to even associate it with him right now; from the passengers seat he couldn't see the back seat from the rear view mirror; if Jean-Luc was there between Tabitha and Kitty, Remy would never know and he wasn't about to turn around to check.

"You've been really quiet today, Gambit," Tabitha commented as she got out of the car after Rogue had turned off the ignition.

"Yeah, I don't got much t' say about shoppin' trips."

"You didn't even buy anything," Tabitha commented. "You still need clothes for school."

"I'll shop online, get it delivered next day," Remy sighed, he got out and went to the back to help the girls unload their bags (of which there was many, mostly belonging to Kitty).

Rogue eyed Remy up almost worriedly; he glanced towards her briefly, tried to give her a smile to say everything was okay when the others weren't looking. He could tell she suspected something was wrong.

Women's intuition. She's known somethin' was wrong wit' me since the day I asked her t' marry me. Suppose she saw that moment as desperation enough that I had t' be out of my mind.

"Can you be trusted to shop online?" teased Tabitha with a smirk.

Remy paused, "probably not," he shrugged, "Rogue, y' wan' help me shop f' clothes online? Pick out some things?"

Rogue blinked, Remy saw her fighting the urge to look angry that he was asking her directly in front of the others, "Ah...don't know."

"I kind of like your taste, so..." Remy eyed her up, hoping that she'd just agree so that he could use it as an excuse to spend more time together with her, "Unless y' wan' jus' do it f' me...I trust y' with my money, I coul' give y' my card."

Rogue's cheeks seemed to pale a little, she drew a breath. Remy knew all too well just how suspicious she was likely to think Kitty and Tabitha might see this as. When a girl was trusted with the money of a man – especially a man who had a fair bit of money to spend – it had to look a little suspicious.

Remy almost hoped that right then Tabitha or Kitty might ask if there was something going on between them. He'd have picked up on it, why hadn't they? Were they that naïve?

No, not naïve, jus' too trustin' of the fact Rogue's powers are supposed t' stop her from havin' relationships, he supposed.

It took a second for Rogue to compose herself, "Ah'm not doin' your dirty work for you just so you can sit on your lazy ass."

"Then come help me."

"Fine," she said, it almost being through gritted teeth.

"Why didn't you ask me?" Tabitha pouted a little.

"The stuff y' tried t' pick out for me in the mall woulda made me look like a giant douchebag," Remy commented, "y' got good taste in girls clothes, but y' can't dress a man f' shit. I don' wan' look like I'm in a boy band."

"Spoil sport," Tabitha rolled her eyes, "I'm insulted, I'm going to go drown my sorrows in a tub of ice cream to get over the emotional distress."

Remy watched as Tabitha and Kitty wandered off, leaving the garage, he heard Rogue at his back coughing a little.

"She's...probably not even kidding about that," Rogue commented uneasily.

"That ain' funny," Remy muttered, throwing his wife a look of disgust at the comment. "She can't help that."

Rogue looked at him strangely, "Oh? You know all about it, do you?"

He supposed he did, somewhat. People sometimes needed an outlet, especially when they'd been through traumatic things. For him, he'd always turned to sex, ever since he'd been able enough, it'd been his go-to outlet outside of smoking or the occasional drink. Tabitha on the other hand, here she wasn't likely to have many outlets, especially when she wasn't leaving the premises all that often.

"It's just obvious," Remy responded, trying to sound casual.

"How do you mean?"

"Stress...she's under a lot of pressure to be perfect," Remy pointed out simply.

"Yeah, sure she is," Rogue snorted, "she's beautiful, she has a killer body...well...usually...and all the guys want her-"

"She's under pressure because she's not a natural in the Danger Room...nor in the field. You sayin' if you were kicked off of the team so soon after bein' fast tracked to it, you wouldn't wanna overeat just t' take away some of the grief?" he asked, he hoped his attempt to cover up his knowledge of why the girl would overeat was working out rather well. "I know how it is, Marie..." he pointed out, "I'm in the same boat, they keepin' me stuck in the fuckin' X-Babies when I know I got what it takes t' be out in the field wit' you and the others. I know exactly how the kid feels right now."

Rogue hugged herself, Remy saw all the insecurity right then. The girl had a slight tendency to be jealous of other girls, especially those who had better assets and certainly who didn't have have her powers to contend with.

"Y' don' need t' be jealous, y' know," He said quietly, he leaned on the car.

The word jealous seemed to be a dirty word, her face seemed to go red, and she looked away, her eyes brimming a little. "Ah'm not," she responded quietly.

"I get it, cherie...I really do," he promised, he looked down to the floor; he wondered if her feelings about Tabitha even remotely compared to his worries about her and Logan. "It's hard, ain' it? Y' never had someone before and the thought of losin' them t' someone else..."

Rogue raised her eyes to him, "do not start that again."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"That...bullshit with Logan. Are you tryin' to deliberately make me jealous just to prove some kind of stupid fucking point?"

"No..." he shook his head, "Never occurred t' me. Why, is it workin'?" it was a joke, but he realised it was probably not the best time to make one.

Snorting angrily, Rogue passed him and stomped towards the door, Remy swiftly darted after her and caught her wrist, he hauled her, turning her around and pinning her into the corner. She stared up at him, dull green eyes a little wide, her lips trembling just a little.

"No need t' get angry," he said hotly against her ear, "I'm jus' playin'."

"It's not funny," her eyes dropped nervously to the floor.

Tentatively, he ran his pinky finger gently across the bulky silver cross pendant that was dangling close to her cleavage, the act he hoped suggestive enough just to let her know she was the only one he was interested in.

"Stop it..." she pushed his arm away feebly, "You'll get hurt...someone will see...people will talk."

"Let them talk..." he leaned close to her, his nose almost brushed against hers, she turned her head nervously. On the back of his neck, he could feel a cold breath of air; Jean-Luc was close by. He tried to focus on the moment, on her and not him. "People gon' start talkin' soon anyways, y' know..." he murmured close to her ear, "guy like me...not goin' out on the prowl...no action...y' know they gon' talk. Only a matter of time 'fore someone notices...'fore someone thinks I shoul' be out datin'."

Her breath came out in little tremors, her eyes closed, she seemed to be struggling to focus herself. He was glad he still had that effect on her at least. If only someone would walk in, catch this, then no more pretence ever again. "So...?"

"So...what y' wan' me t' do if someone asks me out? What if say...Kitty or...Tabitha asks me out?"

Rogue pushed him away, "You're not bein' funny," she walked away from him.

"I'm serious," he admitted, he leaned casually against the wall, "they're gon' see me as fair game. Women always do."

"God, you're so full of yourself," she muttered. "No one is goin' to see you as fair game, other than Tabitha. And if you ever-"

"If she knew 'bout us, there'd be no problem."

"No," Rogue snapped, "Ah don't want her knowin'..."

"Why?"

"You know what she'll think? She'll think it's tragic. That's what she'll think."

"Tragic?" he repeated, "'cause I'm y' charity case that y' married?" he asked defensively.

"No! Because Ah'm the charity case that you took pity on..." she walked by him towards the door; she was so eager to run out on the conversation and he wasn't letting her away with it.

"Wait...what?" he asked, he caught her by the shoulder.

"They'll all think it," Rogue squinted, "poor Remy LeBeau, stuck with a girl he can't even kiss, clearly he's givin' her the pity treatment 'cause he feels sorry for her-"

"Jesus Christ," Remy ran a hand through his hair, "that's not what they think, it's what you think. Y' think that they're gon' think that 'cause you think it," he frowned. "Is that how y' still see my feelin's f' y'? Even after all we been through since the day I tol' y' how I feel 'bout y'?"

Rogue lowered her eyes guiltily.

"Y' shoul' know me by now, Rogue. I ain' that kind and sympathetic. I woul'n't go t' the trouble if it weren' worth it in the end. I don' do things that ain' worth it, Rogue. I wouldn't be goin' through all this fuckin' bullshit of bein' stuck in New Mutant limbo, and doin' chores, and livin' with these people if I didn' think you were worth it!"

She winced, she bit into her lip, she couldn't even meet his eye.

"I love you. I don' care who knows it. God knows why you do," he shook his head at her.

Rogue replied with nothing, her eyes were glued to the concrete floor.

"I've had t' play parts all my damn life, Marie. Play parts, hold secrets, never let it out who I am..." he shook his head at her, "I thought I was comin' here t' stop all that, so I coul' stop hidin' and jus' be wit' out havin' t' keep thinkin' on my toes or makin' up lies!" he reached for the car cover that had been sitting on his sage green Ford Zodiac for quite some time. It had been brought to Bayville during his time in St. Tropez but hadn't been driven yet, the plates still needed changing and he hadn't gotten around to it, mostly due to laziness.

"Where are you going?" she asked worriedly.

"I need some air," he muttered angrily, yanking the cover off and tossing it into the corner unceremoniously.

"There's air here."

"Yeah, it's a little thick right now," he grumbled, and with that, he climbed in, started the car; the engine took a few attempts to start the thing. He leaned out of the window, "hit the door for me," he commanded irritably.

"Remy..."

"Look, jus' hit the fuckin' door," he snapped.

Blinking at the way he'd spoken to her, she slammed her hand against the button, she turned her head away from him, her mouth pursed angrily. Remy tried to ignore the fact that as he drove out of the garage, he was certain that Jean-Luc had gotten into the back seat with him.

Rogue felt dismayed when Remy did not appear back to the mansion for dinner time. As she took a seat at the table, her eyes swayed from person to person, not seeing his handsome face there. Immediately, concern began to gnaw at the pit of her stomach. He didn't usually miss dinner. In fact, since he'd joined the institute, he had never missed a meal.

Guess he's still mad, she thought anxiously as she ladled herself a bowl of vegetable soup; she wasn't hungry of course but she had to make it look like nothing was wrong. For hours now, the argument had kept running through her mind, as well as the realisation she probably could have handled it way better than she had done.

All because Ah commented about Tabitha, she thought. Part of her wanted to feel like it had been justified, and that perhaps he'd deserved it after all his accusations about Logan – shoe on the other foot. However...the other part of her just felt humiliated and very foolish and petty.

"Where's Gambit?" asked Tabitha after a few more minutes, she was dipping a large hunk of bread into her soup bowl, fingers getting unceremoniously dipped in the process.

"That piece of crap car of his in the garage is gone," commented Amara, she was delicately grinding pepper into her own soup.

Rogue muttered quietly, "that car is a classic." She felt her cheeks flush at the thought of having to defend it. She wished he was there now just to hear it.

"A classic?" asked Amara, blinking, "It's a hunk of junk...it's...what? A hundred years old?"

"Exaggeration much?" Rogue frowned, "sixty maybe."

"Yikes, that's older than I am," Hank joked, although no one laughed, he gave a sigh and composed himself. "Did he tell anyone where he was going?"

"No," Rogue said quietly, "Ah don't think so, Ah mean. Ah think he just went out."

"Maybe to do clothes shopping," Tabitha supposed, "Maybe he thought online shopping was a bad idea..." she looked at Rogue strangely.

What you mean is, thought Rogue darkly, is that you think he thought shoppin' online with me was a bad idea.

"He never said anything about it," Rogue tore a piece of bread in half, she briefly glanced towards Logan who seemed somewhat thoughtful and almost concerned. She could see he had it on the tip of his tongue to ask but he said nothing all the same.

Ah should have went after him, Rogue realised. Or insisted he stay...God, why did Ah just stand back and let him go? It's like St. Tropez all over again. How could Ah just stand there and let him drive out of here like that?

When the meal had ended, Remy LeBeau had still not returned. Rogue had barely had time to leave the kitchen after eating very little of her dessert before Logan had practically ambushed her and took her to the formal living room to speak to her quietly.

"You're actin' cagey. What's goin' on?" Logan demanded.

Rogue raised an eyebrow at him, her best attempt to try and hide her guilt. She should have known better, her mentor always seemed to see right through her.

"Where is he?" Logan asked, folding his arms and looking at her expectantly.

"Ah...don't know," she said truthfully. "He went out."

"Just like that, he's been outside all of about three times since he arrived here but he just decided to go out on his own, huh?"

"Yeah, just like that," Rogue pretended to be more interested in checking the nearby end table for dust. There was none.

"How about we try that again?" Logan suggested, his expression dark and demanding. He wasn't stupid, he wasn't likely to believe that it was as simple as Remy deciding to take a pleasant trip out. She supposed she'd have lost all respect for Logan right then if he had believed it (although she'd been utterly grateful if he had).

"Ah don't know where he is, Ah swear," Rogue commented.

"Don't suppose you know anythin' about it, then," Logan shook his head at her in disgrace.

"We...might have had an argument," Rogue said quietly.

"About?"

"Private stuff," Rogue frowned at him.

"And you let him waltz out of here...no thought about what he might do?"

"Logan, Ah-" she tried, interrupted before she could get any further.

"Look, you know the score with him, he has to be watched right now. And I figured if you were going to stay hitched to the guy then you would have the common sense to know to keep an eye on him."

"Ah cant stop him from doin' what he wants, Logan. He has free will. It's not like playin' The Sims, Ah can't just turn his free will off and make him do what Ah want!"

"What was the argument about?"

"Like Ah said, it was private..."

"Rogue!"

"He's pissed 'cause he's sick of pretendin' that we ain't together or somethin'," Rogue commented, "he's sick of us bein' banned from havin' time together...he's sick of—"

"Wait..." Logan stopped her, "what are you talking about? No one said you couldn't be together. No one said you weren't allowed to have time together..."

"But-" Rogue tried again.

"If you want to be open about your dating him in front of the others, by all means, that's your business, do what you want. All we said was don't be sneaking around in bedrooms. I don't want to have to reprimand half of the kids here for spreading rumours about what you two do together behind shut doors, and we don't need the pair of you setting examples about what's acceptable beneath this roof. You two might be eighteen, most of the kids here aren't."

"Fine," Rogue replied uneasily.

"That's all the argument was about?" Logan asked. "No time alone?"

"You...you know what Remy is like," Rogue sighed, "he...he's a guy...Ah guess it's...frustratin'...Ah don't know. Ah'm not a guy."

"You two need to talk this out sensibly," Logan warned her. Rogue thought it almost hilarious that Logan's first instinct was to be sensible about things. Logan was usually action now, thoughts and sensibility later. "Now...I'm goin' to go out and look for your husband. If you want to come with me-" Logan began, he was interrupted just then by Rogue's phone which began ringing rather incessantly.

Rogue picked up her phone, the number wasn't one she recognised.

"Who is it?"

"Ah don't know..." she admitted uneasily.

Logan gestured to her, "answer it before that damn ringing drives me mad."

She tugged off her glove and swiped to answer quickly, "hello."

"Is this Marie LeBeau?"

Rogue blinked; it was the first time she'd ever heard her name put this way before by a stranger. She'd certainly been referred to as Mrs. LeBeau before, even Alice Cullen and Alice LeBeau, but never Marie LeBeau, the situation left her a little unnerved. "This...yeah, this is she..."

"This is the emergency room at Bayville Hospital; your husband was in a car accident, Mrs. LeBeau."

Rogue stepped backwards a little, startled, she felt her backside hit the end table, it toppled a little, an ornament falling on it's side and rolling off onto the carpet. "He...he what? When?"

"Other than a few minor injuries, he's quite all right but he'll need someone to come and get him."

"Ah'll be right there," Rogue promised, she quickly hung up and looked towards Logan, "he...he..."

"I heard," Logan said, "come on. I'll drive."

Remy LeBeau felt a little groggy. He'd taken a bang on the head, slammed it right into the steering wheel, but other than a few bruises he had made it out alive. The car however, he was sure was quite beyond redemption; he'd only caught site of it when they'd been moving him into the ambulance but it was so wrecked he was uncertain how he'd actually survived the wreck at all.

Luck, he supposed.

The doctor kept asking him questions, tried to establish what had caused the accident, if he'd blacked out or been using drugs. It was easy to say that he'd accidentally put his foot down on the clutch when taking a sharp corner, it was believable, especially driving in the right side of a car on a manual transmission car that was older than the doctor. Especially when it had been raining.

It wasn't quite accurate though, was it?

For the first few moments of his journey he'd been certain Jean-Luc had followed him; was there in the car with him, looking on from the back seat. But once he was outside of Bayville it almost felt as if the bastard had left him. It had made driving around in the country a little easier for a time, given him time to think about the argument with Rogue, given him time to think about how he was going to apologise for perhaps going a little off the handle.

Throughout the journey he'd spent time wishing he'd been able to just explain to his wife about Tabitha, about the things he and the blonde held in common, how Tabitha was likely to be the only one in the house who would really understand what it was he was going through in some ways. But it wasn't his secret to tell and it would have been unfair for him to admit to Rogue.

A secret like that, it was painful when others knew it, and it was painful to think of someone else telling his, he could identify with Tabitha all too well and it made him more sympathetic to her problem.

Sympathy, he had thought, finding it almost laughable the day he could consider himself sympathetic to anyone. Once upon a time, he was sure he'd have never cared. Rogue was probably a lot to do with it, he decided. Before he'd ever looked twice at Rogue, he was sure he'd never really cared about anyone other than himself.

He didn't even like the idea of Tabitha knowing he was sympathetic; he supposed if she ever asked he could always make up an excuse. Yeah, well, I have to keep your secret, be nice t' you...y' could blow it for me too, couldn't y'?

Yes, he had that all worked out in his head. He could act like it was some kind of emotional blackmail that he had to be vaguely 'kind'...nothing more.

It had been just as he'd been thinking of that very idea during his return home, he'd intended to give a quick glance through the passenger's side window and Jean-Luc had been there in the passengers seat, looking smug, face a multitude of decaying tones of grey, eyes jelly-like and yellow in their sockets. As that moment had occurred, Remy had felt his adoptive father's touch upon him, and it had been then he'd lost all control of the car.

It seemed to have rolled, he'd worn the seatbelt (which had held up considerably well considering he'd had to fix it as best he could by wedging the mechanism in with a piece of cardboard from his cigarette packet). He was sure he'd felt every roll – five of them – and on the final roll he'd felt his head slam right into the wheel and then right into the side; he realised if he'd not rolled the window down so he could smoke it was likely his head would have gone into the glass too. He could have died.

For moments he had lay there, car on it's side, his head touching the long wet grass at the side of the road where it had eventually stopped; it had been almost soothing. Irony, he had thought. All the things to happen to him, all the fights he'd been in, all the times he'd almost been killed...and it had been a car accident that had nearly snuffed him out in the end.

Someone in a nearby car had seen the entire thing, stopped to help, called 911 and waited with him regardless of his being a mutant. He hadn't expected that kindness and it almost made him sad that at the time he'd been a little too stunned and groggy to ask who they were so he could thank them later. The ironic part he realised was that the kindest people, the ones who saved lives...they were always the ones who went thankless.

The police were supposed to have come but hadn't yet; he wasn't sure why it was important they did, no one had been killed.

"Remy!" he heard Rogue's squeal at the door, she came bolting through the emergency room, running between the rows of beds where other patients were being treated, semi-obscured by curtains. Her eyes were panicked, her face the palest colour of ashen he'd seen to date.

"I'm fine," he sat up and refrained from wincing in pain; the impact had sent a jolt of pain right through his back and he was reluctant to admit it because he was almost certain that it would only give the hospital cause to keep him in, and give the X-Men more cause to keep him away from joining the team. Besides, it was tolerable, nothing more than a twinge now.

Rogue skidded to a halt at the side of his bed, she reached out tentatively with her gloved fingers to his head, "you...you..."

"Yeah, head is a lil' swollen, eye looks a little black, it's jus' superficial...that's what doc said..." his eyes drifted behind Rogue to see Logan walking slowly over; why had she had to bring him too? Why couldn't she have just come alone to get him? It was bad enough having to rely on someone to pick him up without it being Logan.

"What happened?" Rogue asked, she gingerly moved his hair from his forehead to look at the swelling.

"I..." he gently pushed her hand away, any touch right now was distracting and excruciating; he'd had enough nurses and doctors prodding at his head as it was. "Put my foot on the fuckin' clutch..."

Logan stopped at the side of the bed, Remy felt him eyeing him critically.

"Car jus' wen' batshit, turned too sharp, I went over...banged my head..." Remy shrugged, regretting the shrug as a fresh spasm of pain danced along his spine. "It looks worse than it really is..."

Rogue chewed the inside of her cheek, "you'd...never make that mistake. You're such a careful driver..."

Yes, I would, he thought at her, wishing he could explain what had caused him to lose his usual careful precision. "I lost concentration is all..."

"You don't when you drive, Ah know that," Rogue frowned.

"I jus' did," he tried to explain, he could see the disbelief. She wasn't falling for it.

"You're lying..."

"I'm not..."

Her green eyes met his with such suspicion and right then he knew what she was thinking. And right then, he would rather she think it than assume he was a raving lunatic. "Have you...?" she asked, her lips were trembling.

He knew what a mistake it would be, but he didn't have enough time to consider the outcome and he was far too groggy to consider the consequences more thoroughly. All he knew was that if he told the truth it'd likely cause far more problems than lying would.

"I...maybe had a few beers..." he lied quietly, he looked guiltily away from her, guilty for the lie and not the idea that he might have gotten behind the wheel after drinking.

"Remy, what the-?" she began, outraged.

"Mrs. LeBeau?" approached a nurse carrying a clipboard, "there's some papers I need you to fill out before we can discharge your husband..."

Rogue swept her hair from her face, her expression frantic, her cheeks seemed flushed with fury. "Yeah...Ah...sure..." she managed meekly.

Remy watched as Rogue followed the nurse away to somewhere they could fill out his discharge papers. He hadn't expected Logan to stay. He felt Logan's eyes studying him, without looking he could see that suspicious and almost curious look knitting wrinkles in that older-than-the-hills brow.

"Why did you lie...?" Logan asked after Rogue had left the emergency room.

Remy picked at a loose thread on the bed sheet he was lying upon, "I didn't."

"Don't be stupid, LeBeau. You think I wouldn't be able to smell it on you? You took me by real surprise when you actually kept away from the drink, even when you've had more than ample opportunity to go out at any time and get hammered," he stepped closer, speaking low so that no one would over hear. "You think it's funny? Trying to punish Rogue?"

It hadn't occurred to him that it might punish her, it hadn't been the intention at all, and at that moment the argument and her starting it hadn't even registered. All he had wanted to do was avoid having to tell his wife that he'd seen a ghost...that he had been touched by one.

Remy tried to act blasé, "she started the damn fight. Maybe she needs somethin' t' think about."

"You think I won't tell her?" Logan asked with a snort.

"Yeah, y' probably will," Remy supposed, he pushed his legs off of the end of the bed. Every time he moved he hurt. He hoped that would ease off after a few hours. "Make it far easier f' y' t' get rid of my ass, woul'n't it? Make room f' y'self t' muscle right on in."

"I'm warning you..."

"Then warn me!" Remy snapped, "I've had enough o' idle threats loomin' over me, either do somethin' and have done with it or shut the fuck up. Kick me out for drinkin' if that's what it takes."

"You know I can't do that," Logan frowned.

"Then what?" Remy demanded, "reprimandin' f' playin' mind games? Y'all play plenty o' those wit' out my help, why shoul' one more make any difference," he uttered.

"Tell her the truth!"

"No," Remy muttered; he gripped onto the edge of the drapes around the area, he felt a little dizzy from getting up too fast. His vision blurred a little and behind Logan he saw Jean-Luc's silhouette standing there; it disappeared quickly, evaporating like mist. "Maybe it make her think twice about pickin' fights in future – especially when I weren't even in the fuckin' wrong."

"Don't think I won't be bringing this up to the Professor," Logan warned.

"Then do it," Remy uttered, he limped off to find Rogue, "but leave me and my wife the fuck alone."

The drive home had been icy; Rogue had felt the tension in the car mounting, thick like glue, so strong she couldn't even open her mouth to ask how Remy was feeling as he sat in the back seat alone. She'd almost been compelled to go sit beside him there, but she was too angry with him for drinking again. She'd grown rather sick of this in St. Tropez, she'd thought he was over it, she'd almost believed his claims that he had never been an alcoholic.

Eighteen is too young to be like this, she thought with some distress as Logan parked in the garage. Her eyes fell on the empty space in the large garage where Remy's car had once been, where it had sat for weeks never used once. The police were supposed to have come to the hospital to talk with Remy about the car but hadn't shown; Rogue expected they'd turn up at the mansion with questions.

Oh, the added humiliation of that.

That car was probably already in a crusher by now; Rogue had to admit she was ever so slightly sad about that, she'd almost grown fond of the damn thing, regardless of how hard it was to drive.

Remy sat quiet in the back, his expression dull.

"How's your head?" she managed, her voice was thick, she realised even to herself that she sounded like a different person. She supposed since she'd married the boy, she had become someone entirely different.

"Sore."

"Doctor said you can't take anythin' stronger than ibuprofen," Logan muttered, he turned the engine off, "we're supposed to keep an eye on you for the next twenty-four hours."

"Joy," Remy muttered.

Rogue got out of the car; she couldn't even look at him right now and so she walked ahead of Remy and Logan as they entered into the mansion hallway through the door at the back of the room.

Just as they got to foyer, Tabitha was coming down the stairs, her eyes fell on Remy, them seeming to turn into two large bright blue glass buttons.

"Remy...!" she gasped, she hopped down the remaining stairs swiftly, "what happened?!" she reached for Remy's face and weakly he put a hand up to nudge her away.

"Had a lil' fender bender," he muttered, sounding so slightly disconnected that it worried Rogue. It bothered Rogue that Tabitha's concern over him gave her more cause for concern than his injuries and mood.

"Your eye is black..." Tabitha ignored his reluctance to be touched and grabbed a hold of his face; she wasn't all that gentle by the looks of it either.

"Stop makin' a fuss," Remy said quietly, he pushed her away.

"Enough, Tabitha. Go put a pot of coffee on or somethin' useful," Logan commanded, "Leave the boy alone."

Rogue felt Remy look at her almost guiltily right then. What was it about him and Tabitha that gave him that look? Was she right with her suspicions? Did he have some interest in the girl? She certainly seemed to have some interest in him.

Maybe he's right, maybe Ah should make it clear that we're together, Rogue thought.

"You want me to get you an ice pack? Something for the pain?" Tabitha asked, ignoring Logan's command.

"Tabitha," warned Logan again.

"He needs someone to take care of him, look at him!" Tabitha gestured to Remy as if he weren't even present for the conversation.

"We're takin' care of him," Rogue said, trying to hide the irritation in her voice.

"Coffee," said Logan again.

"It's nearly nine pm," Tabitha blinked.

"So make decaff," Rogue muttered.

"Logan really wants a coffee, best not keep him waitin'..." Remy managed weakly, he looked so tired and impatient right then.

Tabitha nodded, "Yeah...Okay...sure..."

Rogue watched the girl jogging off towards the kitchen; her back and neck tensed at the thought of Tabitha's gushing over Remy.

"Yeah," Logan said suddenly when Tabitha had gone into the kitchen, "a cup of coffee would sure sober you up right now," he threw a look to Remy, "come on, you and I got a date with the Professor."

Remy rubbed his head, "right now? I really don' got the patience for this."

"Yes, now, and I don't care. Those who drive drunk don't get to say what they got the patience for."

Rogue didn't understand why the look between Remy and Logan was so awkward and strange; she felt there'd been words said when she had left to fill out forms, but neither seemed intent on elaborating and there was an unsaid rule that she wasn't meant to ask.

"Look, I'm tired...can't we jus' deal wit' this t' morrow?" Remy rubbed his head, "I got a killer headache, can't think straight as it is..."

Logan snorted, "fine. But you'll be going to the sick bay for the night so Hank can keep an eye on you."

Rogue hovered for a moment, "Ah...uhm...Ah'll go help Tabitha with the coffee," she said, more for an excuse to be away from the icy atmosphere between the two men than to actually help Tabitha with anything right now.

The kitchen was spotlessly clean as it always was after dinner had been served and most had retired for the night. Tabitha stood spooning grounds into the filter, back turned to Rogue.

Rogue wasn't sure what to say right then; she had to refrain from saying back off, bitch. She'd never felt so territorial about any boy since she'd fallen for Scott Summers which had now felt like so many moons ago. But this was different from feeling territorial about Scott...Remy was hers, they were married, and legally she had the right to tell women to keep their hands off him.

Tabitha must have felt Rogue's presence, or heard her; she turned, seemingly a little startled from her preoccupation with the coffee, "oh...hi," she said, she sounded a little bright, "you want coffee too?"

"Yeah, Ah guess," Rogue supposed. She wasn't certain it was the decaffeinated coffee Tabitha was using, but it didn't matter in the end. Maybe Ah should be stayin' up all night just to make sure Remy is okay.

"So...fender bender?" Tabitha turned her attention back to the coffee machine, "he looks like he just got out of a fight with Mike Tyson or something. His head is all swollen...I mean, gets any worse, he could look like one of those Ferengi things out of Star Trek or something..." she laughed a little lightly; Rogue heard the worry in her voice all the same.

"He's fine," Rogue said, "he's just a little swollen and bruised. If he wasn't okay, the hospital would have never discharged him."

"All the same..." Tabitha closed the machine and went to fill the reservoir with water, "he needs taking care of."

"He'll be taken care of," Rogue assured, beginning to get rather irritable. "He's going down to the sickbay."

Tabitha stopped, "I just...I don't like the idea of him in pain."

"Neither do I, but what can we do?" Rogue asked through gritted teeth.

Tabitha paused, "I'll get him an ice pack," she decided.

"Ah can do it," Rogue moved over to the drawer where the reuseable icepacks were kept and pulled one out.

"I said I'll do it," Tabitha frowned.

"You're makin' the coffee," Rogue snapped, she didn't mean it to sound quite as nasty.

Tabitha blinked, "Jesus, what is your problem?"

"My problem..." Rogue repeated, she felt a little lost.

"I get it, he's your best friend or whatever, but like, you done your part, you went to the hospital or whatever and got him with Logan, right? Your part is over, I can take over now, you don't have to take care of him out of obligation or whatever."

Rogue swallowed hard, she wasn't sure Tabitha even noticed, the girl was so busy putting the reservoir tank back into the coffee machine. "Obligation..." she repeated quietly.

"Maybe it's not a friend he needs right now, Rogue," Tabitha said matter-of-factly.

Rogue drew her breath through her nose and tried to steady herself. Ah knew it. Ah fucking knew she had a thing for him...

Unable to help herself, she blurted, "He's...he's not...you know, available."

"What?"

"He's not for dating," Rogue explained, hating herself with each word, "You must have noticed, right? He doesn't date..."

"Not what I heard back when he was with the Brotherhood..."

"He was never with the Brotherhood," Rogue corrected, "and that was then. He doesn't date any more...he's..."

"He's what? He's gay?" Tabitha raised an eyebrow, "'cause that's not the impression I got..."

Rogue faltered, she didn't want to admit it, she'd never be able to explain how she could have this relationship with him, how it worked out, the physical aspects of it. She didn't want Tabitha's judgement on whether it seemed unfair to Remy to be in a relationship so limited.

"I get you're probably like threatened, 'cause it's like, yeah, if any girl dates him he'll have less time to hang or whatever," Tabitha shrugged, "But-"

Rogue could imagine the idea of Remy dating Tabitha and that was what hurt. It made sense, it was likely. The entire thing left knots in her stomach and a tightness in her chest. Before she'd even thought of what she was saying, she blurted the words out, "He's married..."

Tabitha stopped, her finger poised on the on button of the machine, but never pressing. "He's...married?" she asked, her eyes were a little wide, "he's...like...not old enough."

"Yeah...well...we're from the south, so...marriage kind of happens young, you know," Rogue said thickly, almost guilty for stereotyping everyone from the south. It had almost been enough to admit it right then, almost. She realised right then Tabitha might have picked up on the fact she had said we, but she seemed to have missed it entirely.

"Why hasn't he said?"

"It's...complicated, Ah guess," Rogue swallowed the foul taste in her mouth that the words had left. She almost thought Remy might be angry with her, but on reconsideration, she wondered if he might be happy that she'd come out with something.

"I guess that's why he wears that ring..." Tabitha shrugged, "I mean...I thought it was weird, but then I figured, hey, he probably can't fit it on any other hand. I mean, I've worn rings on my wedding finger before and never thought twice about it, I didn't think it meant anything."

"Well...it kind of does," Rogue sat down at the table, guilt wanted to swallow her up whole. "He's...faithful to his wife so..."

"But she's not here," Tabitha pointed out with a strange frown.

Rogue felt the utter despair of not being able to say yes Ah am. She hated feeling disappointed that Tabitha didn't even guess it could be her and more than that, she felt disturbed about the thought that Tabitha might be so selfish that she'd take a husband from his wife if it meant getting what she wanted in the long run.

"And he's sort of...I mean...he's lonely, I can tell."

Angry knots twisted in Rogue's stomach; dinner was not sitting well. "How?"

"He's so quiet...sad a lot...I guess," Tabitha shrugged. "He needs someone."

"He has someone, though," Rogue pointed out, her blood starting to boil.

Ah knew this was gonna happen, Ah knew he'd start turnin' heads. If she tells him she likes him...Ah'm screwed...she's his type and there's no way Ah can compete with her.

"Well, yeah, he has someone I guess," Tabitha turned the machine on, "But...I'm talkin' someone who really gets him."

Rogue wasn't sure exactly what the girl meant by this but it left her feeling very uneasy. Why did Tabitha get the impression she understood Remy better than anyone? Better than her?

"Ah get him," Rogue managed weakly.

"Yeah, but, well...you're...you know..." Tabitha shrugged, she got the cups out.

Rogue felt sick, she had to swallow it back. On top of the stress of Remy being in a car accident, on top of the stress of knowing he'd been drinking again, she did not need Tabitha judging her for her powers. "What do you mean by that?" she tried to not sound defensive.

"You're his buddy, there's things he probably won't tell you..." Tabitha supposed. Rogue felt it was more than that, Rogue knew Tabitha had meant to reference her powers.

"And there's things he'd tell you?" Rogue asked pointedly, trying to get past her humiliation.

"Maybe..." Tabitha said quietly, "anyway, coffee will be ready in like ten minutes, I can bring it to you if you like-"

"No thanks, Ah don't really feel like it any more," Rogue stood up slowly and left the kitchen, fighting the urge to cry.

End of Part Thirteen

Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnn.

Drama, Drama, Drama. Delicious Drama. The ghost seems to be getting stronger, doesn't it? Can't be good...

I'm sure a few will think it's unlikely Remy would admit to being DRUNK (even when he wasn't) knowing the complication it could bring to his life but lets assume it was panic rather than smarts...(head injury, he's not thinking too clearly lol). I'm not sure what I'd admit to in the same circumstances...

Sure there's also going to be a bit of wtf-ness about Rogue coming out with admittance that Remy is married but doesn't bother to elaborate further, lol. Who else smells complication? Tabitha reeks of it...it's probably the brand name of the perfume she wears (bearing in mind, she probably stole that perfume too).

Thanks to all for the amazing reviews I've had lately for the past few chapters, it's nice to know the closet scene was amusing (if Jean hadn't been the one to find him, I'm sure there'd have been some "coming out of the closet" comment made or something about skeletons in the closet not usually having flesh attached to them). What is it with this boy and closets? lol. It may be a fetish for all we know.

Anyway, I hope you all like this update for the weekend. Off to watch a few episodes of An Idiot Abroad before bed. Hope you all have a fantastic weekend, love you all and highly appreciate the interest in the story and all the reviews. You all rock :)