A/N: Mostly canon-compliant for X1-X3, but it takes place after. Remy is very loosely based on the one in XO in that he has normal eyes except when using his powers. The rest of XO was ignored. Slow burn, second chance romance.
Content Warning:
This story is going to discuss some mature/sensitive topics. It's not a dark story, but I acknowledge that not everyone wants to read about characters who have experienced loss or who are dealing with grief. You'll get a sense of where the story is heading before I actually kick you in the feels, though, so you'll be able to back out if a particular topic hits too close to home.
Basically, I'm going to take you on an emotional journey, but I promise that it will all work out in the end.
There were some days when Marie questioned why she had become a teacher, and Friday was one of them. She was sure that when she was a student, that she had never caused as much trouble as some of her pupils. Of course when she mentioned that to Logan, he laughed and then rattled off a list of her youthful exploits—some of which she hadn't even realized he knew about.
Maybe it was karma then.
Parents cursed their misbehaving children with a similar fate, didn't they? 'I hope when you grow up that you have a son/daughter just like you'. Maybe one of the teachers had silently cursed her to have pupils who constantly tried to side-step the rules like she had.
Probably Scott.
The door to Storm's office was open, so Marie knocked lightly on the frame to get her attention.
The headmistress glanced up from her laptop and smiled warmly. "Perfect timing, I could use a break."
Marie eyed the stacks of papers, manila file folders, and legal pad on the desk. She didn't envy Storm, who was the one that had to deal with calling parents, balancing accounts, and generally making sure that the school's operation ran smoothly. Between classes, training, and missions, Marie had more than enough on her plate. She didn't know how Storm managed it all.
"Busy morning?" Marie asked.
"No more than usual," Storm replied, sounding a little tired. "What about you?"
"Mine was...eventful. That's actually why I'm here."
Storm's gaze caught on the folder that Marie was holding and her smile faded. "Oh dear, what happened?"
Marie stepped inside the office and shut the door behind her. "Josh O'Malley and Kareem Baker got a little carried away in Krav Maga again."
"So that warning that you gave them last week—"
"Did absolutely nothing."
Marie could be pretty imposing when she needed to be, and most of the time, the students in her class paid attention because they knew that when she issued a warning, there wouldn't be a second one. However, a small handful of her students also mistakenly believed that a few lessons made them fully-trained superheroes, and that the normal rules no longer applied to them.
"Somehow, they got ahold of footage from one of the team's Danger Room sessions and decided to try out some of the moves."
Storm closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm not going to like where this is going, am I?"
It was a rhetorical question, and since she was already feeling bad for adding more stress to Storm's morning, Marie got straight to the point. "Josh broke Kareem's nose."
"Is he okay?"
"He's fine. Hank patched him up already and sent him back to his room. But I had to end class early because there was blood all over the mats. The cleaning staff are in there now, disinfecting everything."
Storm removed her hand from her face and wrote something down on the pad next to her. "That reminds me, I'm pretty sure they're due a raise."
That was the truth. Whatever they paid the small army of maintenance and custodial workers at Xavier's, it couldn't be enough. With that many young mutants living and training under one roof, the list of things that needed to be cleaned or repaired on a daily basis was probably several pages long.
"I wrote it all up in the incident report." Marie added the folder to the stack on Storm's desk and flashed her a sheepish look. "Sorry."
Storm waved off the apology. "It's not the worst thing I've had to deal with."
"I gave them both a week of kitchen duty, explained why what they did was dangerous, and made it clear that one more incident like that and I'm dropping them from the class. I think it has finally sunk in, but who knows?" She had also heavily implied that a black mark on their permanent record might disqualify them from joining the X-men in the future, which probably did more to motivate them than anything else.
"I guess we'll see," Storm said.
"Anyway, that's pretty much it. I've got to make a quick run into town and then I'm taking the afternoon off. Logan's going to cover Self-Defense for me." He owed her for teaching his Aikido class last month. "It'll be good for the students. They've been complaining that I'm too hard on them. Let 'em work with Logan for a couple of hours and see how they like it."
Storm chuckled and shook her head. "The two of you make a truly formidable team."
They did, but only because the lessons they taught the students could make the difference between life and death. It wasn't about training the students for combat—most of them would never join the team. It was about equipping them with defense skills and the knowledge of how to de-escalate certain situations. It was unfortunate, but most mutants were preyed upon or attacked at some point in their lives. Especially those with visible mutations.
"Is there anything you need while I'm out?" Marie asked.
"Actually..." Storm picked up one of the piles from her desk and held it out. "Could you please drop these off at the post office for me? It would be a huge help."
"Sure." Marie took the hefty stack of envelopes from the headmistress with a raised eyebrow. "Lot of bills this month?"
Storm shook her head. "They're mostly permission forms that need to be signed."
"Ah."
Spring was a popular time for field trips and overnight camping trips. Marie idly leafed through the envelopes, looking at the names. Maybe nixing her two trouble students' field trip would have been a better punishment than assigning them to scrub pots and pans in the kitchen for a week.
When she reached the last envelope in the stack, her stomach bottomed out. "What's this?" she heard herself ask, even though she could see exactly what it was.
The somewhat worn envelope that she was holding already bore a canceled stamp. In Storm's neat handwriting, the words 'Return to sender, recipient unknown' were written diagonally across the front. Even if there had been no return address on the letter, Marie would have recognized the other, slightly messy handwriting—despite not having seen it in years.
"My best guess?" Storm asked. "It's a letter for someone that never became a student. It happens occasionally."
Seven years ago, Marie had sent a postcard home. It wasn't anything fancy, just a generic 'Greetings from New York City' card that she had picked up at a newsstand during a field trip. She'd included her address, phone number, and a note that read, I found someone who can help me. In hindsight, it had been silly of her to send it, but at the time, she hadn't wanted her parents to worry.
Just in case they regretted the way that things had been left.
When no response came, Marie had gotten her parents' message loud and clear. They didn't care.
So, it was strange, after so much time had passed, that her mother had sent her a letter.
Marie's heart was racing, but years of training had taught her how to appear calm and keep her voice even when she spoke. "You've gotten other mail for this Anna-Marie?"
Storm shrugged. "It's possible. Sometimes students are sent to us, but then the children decide to run away instead. Or they tell their family that they're here, and we receive their mail and have to field confused phone calls. Everything okay?"
Marie forced the corners of her mouth up into what she hoped was a natural-looking smile. "Of course. It's just sad to think that someone's letter won't reach its recipient. It could be important."
Storm agreed. "But unfortunately, there isn't anything that we can do. At least this way, the sender will know that Anna-Marie never received it. They might keep looking."
"Right." It didn't seem likely, but it was possible that her parents had tried to call her first, and then written when they couldn't get through. Marie hadn't had a landline since moving out of her old room.
"M-S, that's Mississippi, right?"
Marie blinked, startled. "What?"
"The return address," Storm said. "I wondered if maybe you were familiar with the city that it was sent from."
Marie glanced down at the letter again. "Look at that! I didn't even notice. Meridian, that's...oh, about an hour and a half east of where I grew up."
They all knew that she was from Mississippi—it wouldn't have been easy to hide that fact—but Marie had always told people that her hometown was Jackson. The less she was reminded about Meridian, the better.
"Small world," Storm said.
"It sure is." Marie jammed the letter back in the pile. "Well, I should probably get going."
"I'm looking forward to tonight," Storm said.
At least someone was. Marie hated being the center of attention, and having a party thrown in her honor was about as in-the-spotlight as she could get. She fervently hoped that no one expected her to give a speech. "I'll see you there," she said with more forced cheeriness.
Marie left Storm's office and headed back to the small apartment in the east wing of the mansion, that she shared with Bobby. She set the mail—minus the letter—on the kitchenette island and went into the bedroom.
She fully intended to put the letter somewhere safe, grab her jacket and purse, and then head out. No one's life hung in the balance if she didn't pick up the dry-cleaning that afternoon, but it was certainly a more worthwhile task than wasting her thoughts on the family that had disowned her. Marie would deal with the letter at some future point—if at all.
It was tempting to just bury the unopened envelope at the bottom of the kitchen garbage, underneath the eggshells and coffee grounds, and forget it ever existed. However, the longer Marie held the letter in her hand, looking for a book or a drawer to stash it in, the more time she had to think about her actions. If she didn't open it, then she wasn't going to be able to stop wondering about what it said.
"Damn it."
She sat down on the bed and examined the front of the envelope again.
It was addressed to Anna-Marie LeBeau.
It was so strange to see her real name written out after all that time, especially in Mama's hand. Etiquette was so deeply ingrained in her mother, however, that she had probably written it out without giving any thought to the matter. Such as whether or not her daughter even still used that name.
Marie tapped the envelope on her hand.
Anything could be inside.
Better to open it while she was alone, than to wait until after Bobby got home.
Her finger trembled as she slid it under the flap of the envelope and tore it open. There was a full sheet of lined paper inside, folded in thirds, but the body of the letter was short. One sentence. Three words. The impact they made stole the air from her lungs.
Your daddy's dying.
Because she hadn't seen them in nearly seven and a half years, Marie always pictured her parents looking the same as they had when she left. But time had moved on, everyone had aged, and her parents had lived an entire chunk of their lives that she knew nothing about.
She flipped the letter over, and examined the paper again, searching in vain for a clue as to what had happened. There was nothing else in the envelope. Was he sick? Had there been an accident of some kind? How long did he have left? Had he asked for her? Did they want her to come home?
So many questions.
Marie didn't know what the letter meant, but the only way she would get any answers would be to confront the source. At the very least, a trip back home would give her the answer to one thing that she'd always wondered—whether or not she had the strength to face the family that she had left behind.
xxx
An hour later, Marie had managed to book a flight and pack a suitcase while largely operating on autopilot. She still wasn't convinced that returning to Meridian was a good idea, but there had always been an invisible string tethering her to that town. Though she had ignored its pull for a long time, it seemed that it was finally time to let it lead her back.
All that remained was for her to explain her trip to Bobby. It sounded simple enough, but he was going to have questions, and she wasn't going to be able to give him the kind of answers that he would want. She didn't like hiding her past from him, but she'd done it for too long, and if he ever found out the truth, it would be over between them.
That probably said something significant about their relationship, but Marie didn't want to think about that right now. Instead, she sat on the bed and fidgeted with the fleur-de-lis keychain in her hand, rubbing her thumb over its smooth enamel surface as she waited.
A few minutes later, the door opened and then slammed shut. Two soft thuds indicated that shoes had been kicked off by the front hall closet.
"Sorry! I know I'm late, but I got caught up," Bobby called from the living room. As he walked into the bedroom, he tugged his shirt over his head. "I'm just going to take a quick shower, and then we can get going. We should still be able to make it on time."
Shit . Marie had forgotten that they were supposed to meet Bobby's parents for a late lunch.
A couple of years ago, he had reached out to them, and the reunion had gone surprisingly well. Since then, he went home on occasion to visit, but this was the first time they'd come to New York. Marie had been reminded several times that week about how big a deal it was that they were driving down from Boston for a long weekend.
She was happy for him, of course, but it had always felt bittersweet that he had gotten to re-connect with his family, while she remained a virtual orphan. Maybe the letter from Mama would be her chance to change that.
Bobby tossed his shirt on the chair, and turned as he unbuttoned his jeans. He stopped when he saw her sitting there. "You're not ready yet. Did you just get back? Was there a lot of traffic or something?"
She shook her head. "I didn't go out."
He turned and glanced at the closet, as if confirming that his black suit wasn't hanging on the door. "But what am I going to wear tonight?"
"You'll have to wear the gray one."
"But it has a hole in the sleeve." He looked back at her and only then seemed to notice the suitcase standing next to the bed. "Something happened."
She picked up the letter off the bed and held it out to him—she'd already stowed the envelope in her purse. He scanned the page, and then flipped it over to look at the back.
"You recognize the writing?"
"It's Mama's."
He handed her back the paper. "Rogue, I'm so sorry."
She supposed that she was too, but in reality, she just felt numb. "I booked a flight. It leaves in two hours."
Bobby just stared at her for a moment. Clearly, she'd shocked him. Then he said, "You're going to miss the party," as if she wasn't already aware.
"I know—"
"It's being held in our honor."
"I know that. But what was I supposed to do?"
His brow scrunched up as he looked down at the letter in her hand. "I thought you said that your parents disowned you?" It was probably just confusion, but Marie swore she detected a hint of suspicion in his voice.
"They did," she replied. "But if Daddy's dying, then I have to go home."
"Are you sure you aren't using this as an excuse?"
She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "Just—you've been acting kind of weird since we got engaged."
"'Weird'?"
"Distant."
Maybe she had. But there were enough things already running through her mind that she didn't have the energy to deal with his insecurities, or whatever, in addition to all that. "I didn't forge the note and make all this up, if that's what you're implying," she said.
"I'm not. It's just... Never mind. Are you sure that the note is even for you? It isn't even addressed. Maybe it just looks like your mom's handwriting."
Marie shifted uncomfortably because she knew what was coming next. How many times over the years had he tried to pry the secret of her real name out of her? First guessing, like it was a game, and then, later, getting more insistent when she wouldn't tell him. On her more cynical days, she suspected that Bobby only wanted to get married so that he could see what she'd sign on the marriage license.
"My name was on the envelope."
His eyes searched the bed in eager anticipation, but when he didn't see it, he frowned. "The name that you won't tell me."
"I told you the only name that I want to be called," she snapped back, and hoped he had enough sense not to push for more.
Bobby sighed and then switched tactics. "My parents were looking forward to seeing you. And Jubilee—"
"Will get over it. I'm the only family that Mama has left. When Daddy dies, she'll be all alone in the house."
Bobby seemed to respond to the emotional guilt trip and nodded. "Right, no, you should definitely go. I'm sure that everyone will understand that this is an emergency." He picked up his shirt and pulled it back on. "Do you want me to come with you?"
That was the absolute last thing that she wanted. "Thank you, but it's probably best if I go alone." At least that much was true. Bringing Bobby home would take her already elevated stress level and shoot it into the stratosphere.
"Well...if you're sure?" he asked.
"I am." She stood and went over to the dresser to grab her purse. "And like you said, Jubilee will be disappointed if at least one of us doesn't make it to our engagement party, right?"
He nodded, seemingly mollified. "How are you getting to the airport?"
"I called a taxi." She glanced at the clock. It would be there soon. "I should go wait out front."
Bobby reached for her suitcase. "At least let me walk you out."
Marie opened her purse to check that she had her phone, and then dropped her keys into the front zippered pocket along with the letter. As she picked up her carry-on bag, she went over a quick mental checklist to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.
The trouble was that there was no way to know what she was going to face when she got to Mississippi. It made it very difficult to prepare for. Both in terms of packing, but also emotionally. She had compensated for the former by stuffing half of her closet into her suitcase, however the latter was much harder to deal with. Her emotions were all over the place.
Years ago, someone had taught her a technique to help her prepare for unknown situations, and it had become second nature without her realizing it. There was no time now, but once she was on the plane, Marie would close her eyes and try to imagine every conceivable situation that she might encounter in Meridian. If she walked through enough worst-case scenarios in her head during the flight, then by the time she landed, she would feel much more mentally prepared.
At least, that was the hope. It worked well enough before a mission, and facing her parents again was a lot like heading into battle.
"Got everything?" Bobby asked.
Marie nodded. "I think so."
They passed several students in the halls, who all acknowledged them politely, but thankfully nobody asked where she and Bobby were going with luggage in tow.
"I don't know who's looking forward to spring break more—me or them," Bobby said, as they dodged another collision with a student who was looking down at their phone instead of paying attention to where they were walking. "It can not get here soon enough."
"Shoot." Marie knew there was something she had forgotten. "I told Storm I'd mail the permission slips for her while I was in town. Can you drop them off for me? I left them in the kitchen."
"Sure, no problem."
"Thanks."
Once out front, Bobby set her suitcase down at the base of the steps. "How long are you going to be gone?"
That was a good question. "I have no idea," she answered truthfully. "I won't know how bad things are until I get there." It could be days, or it could be weeks. Maybe she'd get there and find out that it was all just a misunderstanding. Or a well-meaning, but badly executed ruse to get her to come home, after which they'd sit down for a family dinner and fill each other in on what had happened in their lives.
Marie filed that scenario away under the heading of 'not a chance in hell'.
Bobby grabbed her hand, breaking through her thoughts.
The contact of his skin on hers startled her, and she jerked her hand back.
"Old habits, huh?" he teased.
"Yeah." Marie breathed in and out, and tried to relax. If she didn't think about her powers, it might be okay. Hesitantly, she held her hand back out for him to take. "Sorry."
He swept his thumb over the diamond ring on her left finger, clearly enjoying the novelty of finding it there. "I hope that everything goes okay," he said. Then shook his head and clarified, "I mean, you know, with as little drama as possible for you. It's not easy going home to a family that doesn't accept you, and then with your dad... It's going to be that much harder."
"I'll be fine." She smiled for his benefit because he seemed to need to see that she was okay. "I'll be back before you know it."
The taxi pulled up, and after what had felt like an eternity, Bobby finally dropped her hand.
Marie let out a long breath. Crisis averted.
"Call me when you get in, so that I know you made it there safely," he said.
She nodded. "I will. Tell Jubes that I'm really, really sorry and that I'll make it up to her somehow." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Bye."
"Bye."
The driver loaded her suitcase and carry-on bag into the trunk while she got in the backseat and tried not to dwell on the fact that she might be making a huge mistake.
In just a few hours, she'd be back in the city that she had attempted to flee to Alaska in order to forget.
