"Rogue?"
Biting back a surprise shriek, Rogue nearly jumped off the bed. The seashells covering her bedspread rattled at the sudden, jarring movement. She hadn't expected anyone to come looking for, while at the same time she expected her bedroom door to stay shut if anyone happened to knock. Apparently neither was the case.
"C'mon in, Kit," Rogue called with a reluctant sigh. She'd managed to keep this little ritual secret for years. She's honestly not certain how she'd managed to keep it a secret for so long. In house full of telepaths and nosy housemates it was a minor miracle in itself that no one happened onto this before now. Apparently, her time had finally come. At least it was Kitty and not a certain someone to discover her.
Kitty slipped through the door and pushed it closed behind her with a satisfying click. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."
"It's fine. I wasn't doing anything that can't wait." Carefully, Rogue picked up the nearest shell and placed it reverently back into the shoe box. "What can I do for ya, sugah?"
As though she forgot why she came knocking, Kitty didn't answer immediately. She crossed the room to the foot of the bed and picked up a sun bleached sand dollar from the scattered collection. Running her thumb over the star-like pattern imprinted on the surface, she at last found her voice. "What's all this?"
"Seashells." Rogue couldn't help the sting of sarcasm which laced the word.
Rolling her eyes, Kitty ignored the sass and replied with a measure of her own. "Surprisingly, I figured that out all by myself."
With a huff of laughter, Rogue gave a shake of her head, then cleared a spot a at the foot of her bed. "All right, I deserved that. If ya wanna hear the whole sordid story, have a seat."
"You know, I'm not Jubilee. I don't need to know everything which goes on around here." Nevertheless, Kitty took the offered seat. "I didn't know you collect shells."
"I don't, not really." Rogue paused in the process of putting away her shells, pausing as she came to the dried remains of a starfish.
Though Kitty raised a quizzical eyebrow at the contradictory statement, she didn't say anything as she allowed Rogue to gather her thoughts.
Pulled into memories, Rogue turned starfish over in her hands feeling the scratch of the surface against her bare hands. She remembered the day she'd picked it up. Still getting used to life without her gloves, she'd been transfixed by the variety of textures. Pressing her fingertips gently against the biting surface of the starfish, Rogue allowed the pain to draw the words out of her. "They're memories, Kit. Each and everyone of them is a memory. Memories I can't bear to part with, at the same time being memories I can't bear to think about every day."
Kitty exchanged the sand dollar for a mussel shell. Trying to catch the light on the interior iridescent surface, she tilted the shell. "Memories of what?"
"Valle Soleada," she whispered so softly the could scarcely be heard by her own ears let alone Kitty's. There was no need to further elaborate for either woman about what Rogue truly meant. They both remembered that time, even if Kitty's time in Valle Soleada was limited. There were some things which lived for a long time among the memories of the mutants in their circles.
"How often do you do this?" Kitty gestured at the assortment of shells still covering the bed.
Rogue shrugged. "Every couple of weeks or so." Or, the voice in her head which was all her own corrected, every week.
If Rogue had slapped her, Kitty's surprise couldn't be more evident. "It's been years."
—and you've been in serious relationships since then. Rogue's internal monologue filled in the rest, whether Kitty meant to say it or not.
"Sometimes ya just can't forget." Her fingers slid along the glossy pink, smooth as glass opening of the murex. How different the opening was from the bleached outside with its rougher surface and spiky protrusions. She'd collected this shell on one of their last days in Valle Soleada. Every time she sorted through her collection she couldn't help but wonder if she was like these shells. Not only was there something about her which was fragile and easily broken if you weren't careful how you handled her, the dichotomy between the hard, brittle, often prickly exterior and the glossy interiors with shimmering colors could also describe her.
"Do you want to share some of them with me?" Kitty was offering both an out and a willing ear. Whichever Rogue needed, Kitty was willing to be the friend she needed.
Glancing down at the murex still in her hand, Rogue traced the spiral as she traced the lines of the memory. "We were so happy. Even though I knew it couldn't last forever, I allowed myself to pretend happily ever after was a real possibility. Whenever Remy wasn't off on a job or mission—I never asked, guess I didn't want to know—when he was home, we would spend time out on the beach. Walking, swimming, sometimes just sitting there enjoying the view and each other." She placed the murex in the box. "That night, Remy and I were having a picnic on the beach. Remy packed a picnic basket and we laid under a palm tree reading poetry."
"Sounds nice." Kitty handed Rogue the oblong mussel shell she'd been playing with. "How about this one?"
A smile touched Rogue's lips and she hummed a bit of a song before answering. "This was from the double date we had with Sam and Lila. We had a campfire down on the beach and Remy and I danced while Lila played a new song on her guitar."
"I recognize that one." Kitty picked up the song where Rogue had left off.
"Guess Sam and Lila are a reminder that not all relationships are meant to be forever." Rogue signed as she placed the mussel shell into the box.
Retrieving a shell shard from near her foot, she ran her finger along the broken edge of a scalloped cockle shell. Despite the numerous times she traced the shattered shell, the edges remained as sharp as the day she'd found it. "I found this one by accident. Stepped on it."
"Ow." Kitty touched her foot in sympathy of the old injury.
"Yeah. It bled up a storm. Remy insisted on giving me a piggyback ride back to the house so I wouldn't get any more sand in it." Her skin sizzled with the memory. Taking advantage of the lack of her mutation, she'd worn such skimpy outfits during their time at Valle Soleada. On that particular day, Remy had been shirtless. She could recall every inch of where her bare skin touched his. "If it wasn't for the trail of blood, I don't think I wanted that ride to ever end."
Wiping at the tears beginning to gather in the corner of her eyes, Rogue turned her head as though that would be enough to keep Kitty from detecting the tears. She took a deep breath in hopes of stalling the lump of emotion from forming in her throat. There was a reason she kept this particular ritual from the others.
Kitty tucked her hand into her sleeve and reached to touch Rogue's hand. "After all this time, if you still feel this way, you really ought to talk to hi—"
Clearing her throat, Rogue cut Kitty off before the other woman could finish. "Sugah, I think ya came here for a reason. What did ya need?"
"Oh, right—" Kitty shook her head at the sudden change of subject. "I was wondering if you were free to run a training session with Armor and Pixie tomorrow?"
"Sure, Kit. Yeah, I can do that." Rogue scooted off the edge of the bed and stretched her legs. "If ya don't mind, I'd like to get back to my task—alone."
"Right." Kitty followed suit and once again crossed to the door. "I'll leave you to it. And, thanks."
"Yeah, yeah." Rogue turned her back on her friend while the other woman phased through the door, leaving her alone.
In a less meticulous fashion, Rogue returned the shells to their box. Like every time she opened this particular can of worms, Rogue wondered if it was truly worth rehashing these memories. One couldn't recapture the past no matter how hard they tired.
With the lingering sigh of the weary, Rogue placed the lid on the box and tucked it in the back of her closet for safe keeping. Sometimes she wished she could close the lid on these memories as easily as it was to return the seashells to the box.
A few days later in Paraíso…
Walking hand in hand with Remy, Rogue reveled in the sensation of bare skin against skin. It had been far too long since they'd done this. Despite the rough therapy sessions, Rogue really couldn't find it in her heart to still be upset with Kitty. There was something reassuringly familiar about walking down the beach with Remy at her side. It carried the scent of home. His skin was warm with not only the warmth of his internal fire, but with the rays of the sun as well. Trying to absorb all the warmth and contact she could before this moment fled all too quickly, she rested her head against his arm as they walked. It was too bad they were on a mission. She didn't want this to end.
About halfway back to their temporary bungalow, Rogue caught a glimpse of the dark swirl of a periwinkle peaking out from among the sand. By habit, she paused in her tracks to stoop down and scoop up the shell. The familiar smoothness and weight of the shell felt right.
"Whatchya doin' chere?" Remy asked as she returned to his side and slipped her unoccupied hand in his.
"Gathering memories." She rose to her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I don't want to forget these moment."
"Neither do I." He turned his face to capture his lips with his own.
The kiss deepened as they prolonged the embrace. If there was ever a time to continue her collection, it was now. It was time to stop living on old memories and start creating new ones.
Rogue tightened her hold on the shell. The rounded edges of the swirl imprinted on her palm as this moment—the kiss, the sand, the sun, the salt in the air—imprinted on her memory.