OMG. Seriously. This is a long one – at least for me. 27 pages. I was hoping for 40, but I … aw what the heck. I'm going back to write more…

Okay 36 now – bordering 37… Close enough. I'm out of material for the time being. I like the way this chapter ends, even if I wanted to get to the part where they find a place to sleep for the night.

Also, I'm VERY proud of this chapter. Not only is it super long for me, but it's also really diverse and touches on a lot of key issues. However, I REALLY need to go back and edit everything – so I'm going to get working on that…

Get ready people – we're winding down now!

THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED ENTIRELY TO SASSY18!

Sassy is the one responsible for this update. I shouldn't even be taking credit. She came up with SO many good ideas for this chapter and most of the next ones. She's been helping me flesh out ideas for character interaction and development as well as suggesting different actions for different characters. I've put "S" wherever she gave me ideas. Thank you SO much !

Please forgive me for the incredibly late update. I know I said mid to late February, but I've been dealing with a lot of garbage lately.

Turns out I have a problem with a hormone imbalance and a serotonin deficiency. Makes me very tired/lazy/depressed, etc. but I'm taking Cymbalta for it and feel MUCH better – so much so that I wrote 40 freakin' pages in 3 days!

Please review and tell me what you think! There's a LOT of content and activity in this one; let me know if there's too much going on. Much character development too. I think that people will like my section on Kurt especially.

Oh – and this is also LOADED with ROMY goodness!

Rated T for language and that's about it – oh, and one or two sexual references.

ALL BELONGS TO MARVEL

Chapter 15 - Getting Warmer
Day Two

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Professor Xavier sat in front of a room full of anxious students and attentive Acolytes as he prepared to introduce a beautiful, purple-haired woman to the diverse group. The students regarded her apprehensively, as if warily watching for any signs of a potential threat. As distrust, worry, sorrow, anxiety and even anger crossed the faces of every student and guest present, Xavier momentarily began to doubt his decision to involve a stranger in their "family" matter, but he cleared his throat and forged on.

"Everyone, this is Dr. Elizabeth 'Betsy' Braddock," he began. "Betsy is an old friend of mine and I hope you will all show her the same respect and courtesy as you do me."

"Or myself," Eric chimed in with a pointed look to his Acolytes and the Brotherhood.

"Yes, well," Xavier continued, "Betsy is a professional grief counselor. She travels around the world in times of great tragedy to help survivors and loved ones deal with their losses…"

A muttered jab, barely audible in the tense hush of the room, wafted through the small group of grieving mutants.

"And she prob'ly makes a pretty penny off 'em too."

"…As a VOLUNTEER," Xavier finished, effectively silencing the brave commentator.

Even still, the feelings of distrust & anxiety grew throughout the room until Scott, ever the vocal one these days, addressed the concern everyone was currently ruminating upon.

"Why her?" he asked, face flushed and troubled behind his red sunglasses and rough stubble.

His hair was unbrushed and hung about his face at odd angels and though he had dressed that morning, it was clear that he hadn't put as much thought or care into the task as usual. His sweatshirt and pants were both rumpled and slightly soiled – as if he had simply grabbed an outfit from his dirty laundry – one shoelace was partially undone and upon closer inspection, it was apparent that his socks (one black and one blue) did not match.

The change in his appearance was so radical, in fact, that some of the younger students began to wonder if Scott had finally lost it entirely or switched bodies with Avalanche at the very least.

Unlike the normally put-together leader of the X-Men, Lance Alvers was (for once) clean-shaven with his hair washed and combed. He had borrowed an extra pair of clothes after spending a sleepless night at Xavier's, and the clean white t-shirt and hole-less jeans made a drastic change to the boy's look.

Alongside Scott, Jean glared at her boyfriend and moved toward him to calm him down, but he pushed his way through the crowd despite her telepathic protest and desperate grab to latch onto his arm.

"Why should we trust her? Tell HER all of our thoughts and feelings when she doesn't know the first thing about us or Rogue!" Scott's voice rose as he spoke and soon his face was flushed a shade of red that almost rivaled that of his ruby-quartz glasses.

"I know you're hurting," Betsy said finally, quiet but resolute as she set her small suitcase down at her feet.

She had a thick English accent, but was eloquent and poised and spoke with an easy yet commanding grace that emphasized her powerful speech and stature. She was calmly assessing the crowd with a look on her face that screamed both intimidation & understanding and no one dared to interrupt her.

"I know it feels like you've been hit in the gut; that you want to cry or scream or fight or blame yourselves," she met each pair of eyes as she spoke in soft but firm tones.

"I know that you want to close your eyes and pretend it never happened, that a madman didn't MURDER your friend. And," she finished with a small, tight smile, "I know that none of it helps, that nothing you're feeling or wishing or thinking can change the fact that she's gone and you didn't get to say goodbye."

At that moment a soft, feminine sob echoed from somewhere in the back, but was quickly soothed by another's comforting embrace.

Dr. Braddock continued, letting her words seep into the many distraught minds & hearts in the room, "No one HAS to talk to me. Some of you won't, but I think most of you want to unload your fears and anger and grief to someone you know won't look at you any differently at the end of the day; someone who can look at the situation and be honest – tell you if you really could have done something different – and someone who can help you work through your anguish, guilt and grief in a constructive way without just putting a mental Band-Aid on it.

Xavier raised an eyebrow slightly as he turned to regard his friend.

"No offense Charles, but you do," she offered with a knowing twist of the lips.

He sighed, but nodded and turned back to his students. "She's right of course. I do tend to simply make things go away without spending ample time on them. I am a telepath, but when it comes to matters of the heart – to grieving…" Xavier sighed again and stared intently at the tile floor. "I simply don't know how to properly help all of you when I can scarcely handle my own emotion."

He hung his head slightly and the room was quiet - though the silence was no longer filled with tension, but with a begrudging acceptance and understanding.

Xavier's mouth turned up at the corners in a tired attempt at reassurance and gratitude.

"Thank you… everyone. Jean, please see Betsy to one of the guest rooms. I will be in my study if I'm needed."

Even Eric, who had witnessed the Professor's many trials through the years – had even caused most of them – watched with worried eyes as the man slowly wheeled away, his normally strong, confident posture slumped and broken.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Attention ladies an' gentlemen, dis is your captain speaking. We are now beginnin' our decent. Please keep your arms, legs an' ot'er objects inside d' Gambit Express until we've come t' a complete stop. Merci (thank you)."

From atop Remy's back, Rogue rolled her still-closed eyes and bit her lip to stifle a giggle as the Cajun strolled over to a rock and helped her slowly return to the ground.

"You are such a dork," she muttered as she opened her eyes at last and carefully unwrapped her legs from Remy's waist.

"I assure you, Gambit is anything but a dork," he said, turning to face her as he felt her weight shift from him to the rock. "How's dat now? Ribs any better?"

"Yeah, much better actually. Thanks."

Remy held out his hands to help Rogue down from the rock and once her feet were firmly back on the ground, she smoothed her dress down and stretched her arms out to her sides.

"Are we good and lost now? Can I walk on mah own again instead of bein' carted around like a sack of potatoes?" She glowered at Remy, but the small, bemused twinkle in her eye betrayed her foul glare.

"Ah, come on chere, you know you like being treated like a vegetable," he winced as she raised an eyebrow at his poor comeback. "Dat sounded better in my head. Actually, dat didn't sound good at all. Just forget I said anything."

Rogue rolled her eyes at him again and put her hands on her hips in an irritated gesture, but struggled to keep herself from smiling as Remy dropped his head in shame.

After a moment, he looked at their surroundings and gave a little nod to himself.

"I t'ink we should be good and lost now. Hopefully de next time Apocalypse tries t' invade your dreams he won't be able to track us down. Guess we'll just have t' wait an' see though."

Rogue made a small sound of agreement as she tried to keep herself from gazing around the forest – she didn't want to give Apocalypse any help in finding them, and if that meant she'd have to trust Remy completely to survive, well then…

Oh God, what was she thinking?

"Um," Rogue started, glancing around at the trees surrounding the small clearing they had stopped in, "what uh, what about water Ga – Remy? How are we gonna find our way back to the river when we need water? We can't risk gettin' dehydrated, and if we don't find food soon, we won't have the strength t' keep walkin'."

At the mention of food, Rogue's stomach growled furiously, as if providing evidence of her claims.

"Don' you worry 'bout a t'ing petite, Remy's got it all worked out in his head. I know where d' river is when we need water. It's a walk, but easy enough to get dere." He stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment, but continued, "I can't tell you where it is from here 'cause dat'd give Apocalypse a clue as t' where we are and we can't have dat. And I won't let y' starve neither. We can't have a fire - means meat's out - but dere's plenty of plants and leaves and greens t' eat in de woods."

He didn't want to say anything to worry her, but Remy knew that if the river turned suddenly and started a new direction, they'd be utterly screwed. They would need to make several trips each day to scout out the path of the river and get water. It would cost them precious little time, but was absolutely necessary for their ultimate survival.

Rogue raised her eyebrow at him again as she began to seriously doubt his outdoor survival skills. She cleared her throat and tried desperately not to look around and take charge of the situation.

"Not to uh, doubt yer leadership skills or anything, but how the sam hill are we supposed to know what plants are edible and what's poisonous? There's plants that you can eat the berries, but not the leaves and flowers and others that you can eat the buds and stems, but not the berries."

She stared him down, hoping he had SOMETHING of a decent response to her question, praying that he knew what he was doing and that she was not, in fact, stranded in the middle of a forest without food, water, shelter or respectable clothing with a complete imbecile.

"Well," he said at last with a self-assured smile, "dere's always grubs and crickets."

"Ugh. Ah think ah just lost mah appetite," she replied with a look of utter disgust.

"Well den, I guess it's a shameful waste dat I happened t' stop by dis here berry bush," he said with a large smile as he stepped away from a small, nearly hidden cluster of bushes baring large, dark blue berries.

"Oh well, I suppose we'll just wait 'til you've got your appetite back. Let's get movin' den." With the same face-splitting grin, Remy began to turn away from the bushes and head in another direction, all the while keeping his eyes on Rogue as the girl practically sprinted the 10 foot distance to the bushes and fell to her knees in front of them.

Without stopping to consider what Remy might think of her "table manners," Rogue attacked the small fruits as she began to rip the berries from the rough branches and shove handfuls of them into her mouth. They were sweet and juicy and just heavenly in her dry, malnourished mouth, and within seconds her face, hands and chin were oozing with bright blue juice.

Remy laughed loudly at her. "Boy Rogue, de way your devourin' dose things, someone might t'ink y' haven't eaten in a week!"

Rogue didn't pause in her consumption of the berries, but she did manage to raise one blue-stained finger at him for about two seconds before she engrossed herself with eating again.

With a light chuckle, Remy kneeled down next to her and started to carefully pluck the berries from an adjacent bush – every so often popping a few into his mouth as he filled his pockets with them. He was a little worried about ruining his coat with blue stains, but at the moment, the need for food was much more important than the color of his precious leather duster.

As Rogue continued to stuff her face next to him, Remy turned a concern eye in her direction and paused a moment in his own foraging.

"Rogue, you really oughta go easy on dose – you'll make yourself sick eatin' like dat."

Mid-mouthful, she glared murderously at him for a moment, but bit her now blue lip as she swallowed and sat back from the bush, silently agreeing with him.

Remy whistled low. "You musta been pretty famished dere chere. How long's it been since y' had a decent meal?"

Rogue pursed her lips and closed one eye as she mentally counted the days.

"Ah guess it musta been… three or four? Ah can't remember eating anything the day before graduation and ah wouldn't have had anything that day either, so ah guess it's been about four now."

She cleared her throat as her cheeks turned pink. "Sorry about that ungodly display," she muttered quietly as she tried to find a place to wipe her sticky blue hands, "mah stomach kinda took over mah body for a minute there."

Remy gave her a small reassuring smile as he pulled a few of the still-wet strips of black cloth from his inside pocket and handed them to her. He turned his head back to the bushes and began to gather more berries as she shyly wiped her face and hands.

"Pas de problem (no problem/no big deal). Remy won't tell anyone dat you eat like a pig." He smiled again as she glared at him.

"Well thanks for that ah guess, but you CAN tell me about Apocalypse's plan now. Ah know you've been avoiding the subject for a while and ah want some dang answers."

Rogue stood and placed her hands on her hips, trying to intimidate him into relenting and telling her everything, but she didn't realize that the berries had stained her hands, lips and chin a dull blue color and that she was starting to resemble a Smurf.

Sighing to contain his laughter, the Cajun picked himself off the ground and slapped the dust from his pants. His pockets were filled to the brim with berries – hopefully they would last a few days, but with Rogue's appetite, he worried that they might not last an hour!

"Alright chere, I'll tell y' everything I know, but let's walk and talk eh? I'd prefer if we keep movin' as much as possible. De more distance we put between us and Apocalypse, de better."

Rogue considered him for a minute, but then nodded and fell into step behind him as they began their trek through the forest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So Jubes, what do you think of Dr. Braddock?" Amara asked casually as she examined her finger nails over a cup of tea. She, Jubilee, Rahne and Tabitha had decided to go searching for a quick-fix way to relax and get some quiet – of course, that involved herbal teas and chocolate.

Jubilee munched thoughtfully on a chocolate cupcake and shrugged. Swallowing, she replied quietly as she wiped a trace of chocolate frosting from her lips, "I don't know. She seems okay, I guess."

Tabitha looked up from her own cupcake to join the conversation. "Do you think you'll go talk to her?" she questioned quietly.

With clouded eyes, the Asian X-Man shrugged again and looked out the window, "I … I don't know. I sorta want to, but I was never really close to … we weren't really friends or anything. I think the only thing we ever said to each other was "hey" and "git th' heall outtah mayh wahy."

Rahne snorted at the other girl's shoddy attempt at a southern accent, but at least it seemed to lighten the mood a little.

"Yeah," Tabitha announced, "Rogue was NOT the girl to mess with ya know? I mean, remember when Bobby tried to freeze her underwear, so she retaliated by fighting ice with fire?"

The blonde grinned widely as Amara huffed loudly with mock indignation, but still, all four girls doubled over with laughter as they pictured the memory.

"Wait," Rahne cried, "I donnae remember HOW she got him naked in the first place."

"Oh that's RIGHT," Amara exclaimed, "you were studying with Jamie!"

"Okay, so get THIS," Tabby jumped in, her half-eaten cupcake forgotten. "So she waits 'til he's in the shower, 'borrows' Amara's powers…" she said, making air quotes again.

"WITHOUT my permission, I might add!" Amara complained with a frown.

"Whatever Princess, you were only dazed," Boom Boom continued, "and she starts a small 'fire' right under the bathroom door. So as far as Bobby can tell, he's only got one way out."

Rahne looked confused for a moment. "Wait, wouldn't he just try to put it OUT?"

"Well yeah, he TRIES," the blonde explained, "but that's why she had ME turn off the water to the bathroom! He can only go so long in that type of heat before he starts to run out of juice. Plus, Roberto decided it might be fun too, so that didn't help Bobby at ALL."

"Then," Amara stepped in, her eyes dancing with laughter, "Rogue yells at him to go out the window and 'escape' because the sprinklers are malfunctioning; so he grabs his towel and uses the last of his ice to slide to the lawn…"

Tabitha barged in again, cutting Amara off, "Rogue douses the flames as he hits the ground and - while we're all running for the windows to get a look - shouts, 'Bobby Drake that towel is MINE!' and uses Magma's magma to set the ends of it on fire!"

"Well sure, ai remember that part!" Rahne laughed as the girls all began giggling. "Ai always wondered why he dinnae ice up to cover himself."

"Yeah," Jubilee sighed wistfully, "it's a shame Ororo had to ruin it by making it rain."

"'Course," Tabby shrugged with a mischievous smile, "even an ice towel is somewhat translucent…"

"Tabitha!" Amara admonished, blushing. "You are so BAD!"

"What, don't tell me you've never thought about what the guys around here look like."

"Never," Amara claimed, her chin held proudly in the air and her jaw set stubbornly.

Tabitha leaned over the table and locked eyes with her Brazilian friend. "You," she pointed to Amara, "are a LIAR!"

Amara blushed furiously as Jubilee and Rahne laughed hysterically.

"Oh shut up Jubilee," Amara snapped, "We all know you've got the hots for Bobby!"

It was Jubilee's turn to gape and turn colors as the other three giggled.

"So what if I do?" she finally admitted, turning on her friends. "It's not like you three don't have a crush on someone here!"

Amara blushed, but Rahne looked bewildered.

"Ugh," the young Scottish girl replied, "Ai'm definitely NOT into the boys here."

"Oh please," Tabby rolled her eyes, "You and Roberto definitely have some kind of chemistry."

"Aye – like oil an' water!" Rahne exclaimed. "I cannae stand such an arrogant boy!" She smiled sweetly and turned to Amara. "But YOU an' Sunfire on the other hand, have a common…element, wouldn't you say?"

Amara's eyes went wide and she blushed furiously, the red tint reaching from her hairline to below her shirt collar.

"I … I don't… You're crazy! We don't…. NO!"

The other girls nearly fell from their chairs with laughter.

"Oh yeah," Tabby accused through her giggles, "I saw the way he hugged you earlier – and YOU didn't seem to mind one bit."

Amara's blush deepened enough to match her crimson fingernail polish. "I was DISTRAUGHT! He was comforting me!" she cried, trying to absolve herself.

"And if I noticed correctly," Jubilee piped in, "neither of you were in much of a hurry to move away."

In response, Amara hid her face in her hands and the simple movement caused a whole new round of chortles from the table.

They were cut off abruptly, however, by the sound of the kitchen door swinging open.

"Ugh," Wanda rolled her eyes and made to leave again as she saw the four girls giggling with abandon.

"Hey Wanda, wait," Tabitha called from her seat by the door. "Why don't you sit down and talk with us?"

Wanda paused, but she looked around cautiously as she regarded the other girls. "I'm not really in the mood for senseless gossip."

"We have chocolate…" Boom Boom raised one of the double chocolate cupcakes and waved it around in temptation.

Wanda pursed her lips as she tried to convince herself to leave now before the madness consumed her, but the need for chocolate covered comfort won out over her anti-social tendencies.

"You DO know I could just take that right out of your hand?" Wanda asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Tabitha remained unfazed by the menacing look on the young witch's face, but the other X-Girls gulped silently and tried to subtly scoot their chairs away.

"Yeah, I know," Tabby replied with a small smile, "but you didn't come all the way over here from the Brotherhood house so you could be alone, did you?"

For a brief moment, Wanda's eyes flashed with boiling rage and her fists glowed blue as her powers activated. But then, much to the surprise and relief of the other girls, the Scarlet Witch simply sighed before hexing a chair over to rest near Tabitha.

"You're such a pain in the a - "

"Hey, children in the room!" Amara cried before Wanda could finish her sentence, glancing toward the youngest X-Man present.

"Oh bite me princess. That one's got a mouth on her like you've never seen," Wanda replied as she pointed at Rahne and took the cupcake Boom Boom offered.

As the other girls at the table turned to the slightly pink Rahne, the redhead tried to look offended and innocent at the same time.

"Ai donnae know what you're talkin' about," the Scottish girl protested, turning back to her own cupcake.

Swallowing a mouthful of chocolate-y goodness, Wanda rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Oh please, I've heard you behind the bleachers after class, ranting about your teachers and training and everything. You could make my father blush."

Immediately, the shade of Rahne's face matched her hair.

"Oh sod the bloody hell off you cow," Rahne barked at Wanda, only slightly fearful that the other girl would retaliate.

"RAHNE!" Amara screeched, covering her ears and moving farther from both girls.

The girls all waited as Wanda munched quietly on the cupcake, her eyes slitted and furious-looking. As the goth glanced around the table and took in the fearful gazes of the X-Girls - Tabitha included this time - she simply laughed instead.

Startled, Jubilee, Tabitha, Rahne and Amara all exchanged worried glances.

"Look at you four. You go up against all kinds of 'bad guys' – even went and created The Sirens – and you stare at me like THAT? I'm not Apocalypse you know, I have morals."

At the mention of the mega-mutant's name, the girls all fell into an anxious hush.

Wanda sighed heavily, "I'm – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay. It just… sucks," Jubilee offered quietly.

Wanda nodded and set the remains of the cupcake down on a napkin.

Tabitha spoke up again, half-heartedly attempting another round of gossip to lighten the mood.

"So Wanda, what do you think of Elizabeth?" Tabby purred the woman's name as she waggled her eyebrows, causing Wanda to roll her own dark brown eyes at the exaggerated display.

The Brotherhood girl picked at the little pieces of cupcake remnants as she mulled over the question. "I don't know. She's okay I guess. Haven't really met her yet."

"Yet?" Rahne questioned, daring to speak again.

Wanda's mouth quirked up in the tiniest of smiles. "Yeah. I think I'm going to go talk to her today."

Previously engrossed in her cupcake, Amara nearly dropped the chocolate concoction in her lap as she choked and Jubilee was gracious enough to pound her vigorously on the back.

"REALLY?" Tabitha exclaimed as she folded her hands and placed her chin on her fingers, "Do tell!"

Wanda scoffed, but blushed ever so slightly. "Yeah, well, Rogue and I hang out a lot. You don't think she's borrowing Anne Rice books from the cheerleaders at school do you?"

The other girls looked pensive before Amara finally spoke up.

"Yes, but, it's just… You're… you know… You're so… tough."

Wanda sighed and rolled her eyes again slightly before responding, "That might be true, but it doesn't mean that I don't have feelings too. Maybe I get tired of not having anyone to talk to. You all get to sit around together and have pity parties over cake and ice cream and chocolate. I get… boys. Brotherhood boys. Rogue was the one cool person that I could talk to about my crappy day and what I did to Toad for touching my stuff. She understood what it was like..." she trailed off quietly, picking at her cupcake again.

"What what was like?" Rahne asked, curiosity and tears filling her eyes.

"To be stuck with no one that understands you and no one to talk to… To not to fit in. To pretend you're something that you're not," Wanda finished, finally pushing the remaining flecks of chocolate away with force. "Ugh. No wonder I don't do this 'girly' stuff – listen to me. I sound like … Jean."

Jubilee, Rahne and Tabitha roared with laughter while Amara looked offended.

"That's really unfair," the princess contended, "Jean's not that bad."

"Oh really," Tabitha spoke up, becoming more incensed by the second, "aside from that outburst in the Control Room yesterday, little miss perfect hasn't batted an eyelash once. She just keeps going on through her day like everything's normal – studying for college, talking on the phone, surfing the net, chores, everything. I don't care how much those two didn't get along. Have a little respect, huh?"

This time it was Tabby's turn to look gloomy and sour while the other girls fell silent once again.

"Maybe I'm not the only one who should go talk to Betsy," Wanda whistled at last, successfully breaking the ice again.

"Aye," Rahne chirped in, "if anything else, you can both go whine about how horrible the Brotherhood boys are."

"Bleh!" Tabby exclaimed suddenly, her sullen mood forgotten, "I can't believe you can put up with it. Worst two months of my LIFE!"

"And Toad's," Wanda chimed in and both girls began laughing uncontrollably.

"What? What's so funny?" Amara asked as she, Rahne and Jubilee sat staring in shock at the other two girls.

"What'd I MISS?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you… are you SURE?" Rogue questioned as she and Gambit made their way through the dense forest.

He was forging ahead and trying to clear something of a path for her as he explained Apocalypse's plan and divulged all his knowledge of the intended rituals. The path had to be good enough for Rogue to walk through without injuring herself any further, but discrete enough to prevent them from being tracked … or at least tracked EASILY.

"M' sure," he tossed over his shoulder while ducking under a low branch.

"So they want to…"

"Uh, huh."

"Yeah, well, if Apocalypse thinks he's gonna use some weird voodoo or magic to make me his slave, he's got another thing comin'," she gruffed and glared at the thought.

"Chere, dat ain't even de worst of it… Won't tell y' de worst if'n you don't wanna hear it. I sure didn't."

Rogue gulped inaudibly and felt her stomach roll.

"There's MORE than him plannin' to do some ritual on me to make me his slave and use my powers to rule and destroy the world?"

She sighed heavily as her stomach lurched again. She really DIDN'T want to hear it, but probably should anyhow. Goodness knew her stomach couldn't handle much more though – she was already queasy enough! The sun and heat was beating down on them too and the feeling of sticky sweat along with the smell from lack of deodorant wasn't helping any.

"Lots, actually."

She groaned but nodded, "Go on then. Let's hear it all."

Without looking back at her, Remy steeled himself for her inevitable reaction. He figured she'd probably be freaking out on him in a matter of minutes. There would be yelling, screaming, cursing and probably more rock throwing… Goodness knew he'd probably get injured somehow!

"Well, first of all, dere are three ways dat Apocalypse is gonna use you against yourself in order to take control of y'r powers and body, but de good news is dat we can fix most of 'em and make sure his plan backfires."

Inwardly, Remy was trying desperately to figure out how to phrase this all to her. It was devastating information and "fixing" those things would be so much to ask of the girl to accomplish in just a few days. Frankly, he wasn't entirely certain they'd stand a chance.

"Mesmero said that de way you isolate yourself is big – so long as you keep y'rself closed off from everyone, no one will be able to pull you back out of his hold. Dat means first an' foremost, we gotta work on dat."

"Excuse me?"

"You," he turned and pointed to her, "need to stop bein' so stubborn and standoffish and let someone IN f'r once in y'r life."

"I am NOT standoffish," she growled as she placed her fisted hands on her jutting hips.

Remy glanced down at the pose and raised an eyebrow. With a roll of the eyes, Rogue straightened and let her hands drop.

"Okay," she agreed, "so maybe a little. Anyhow, you said there were THREE ways we could beat him."

"I said we could fix MOST of them. It's really all up t' you." He continued walking again as he tried to put some distance between himself and the soon to be livid girl.

"De uh, de second is y'r powers. He said dat because you hate 'em so much, it makes you more susceptible to the ritual. So, stop hatin' everything – 'specially y'r powers."

She scowled at his back.

"And stop glarin' all the time, it don't help. No more glarin'."

"Oh, okay," she replied snidely and started to roll her eyes.

"And don't gimme lip or roll y'r eyes at me no more neither; I'm tryin' t' help you here, okay."

"Fine," she agreed with the tiniest bite to her tone. She was about to throw a stick at that Cajun – ritual or not! How DARE he talk to her like she was nothing more than a child? Who the heck did he think he was?

Might as well have it all out first though – then she could hit him with stuff. Part of the recovery process and all… She grinned wickedly, but sobered as she realized there was a final thing that Remy had said couldn't be fixed.

"So what's the third thing?"

Remy grimaced and picked up his pace a bit. "The third?" He didn't particularly want to broach that subject just yet so he did the only thing he could think to do.

He stalled.

"Well, the third's more complicated. It's uh, well…"

He rubbed the back of his head roughly as he pondered the issue.

"Yeah?" Rogue was starting to grow impatient as her stomach flipped miserably with each awaiting second. It couldn't be THAT bad, right?

He rushed on, "You know how sometimes de old rituals require an animal sacrifice?"

Rogue raised an eyebrow as her stomach rolled again – Lordy, was Apocalypse gonna make her EAT a dead animal liver or something? The thought had her stomach churning anew.

"Well, it's not dat."

Rogue sighed in relief. Thank God. But then what…?

"And you know how sometimes dey have t' sacrifice de virgins?"

Rogue gulped as her eyes widened and her stomach flipped again. That madman was going to rip her heart out and make her into a living zombie, wasn't he!

"Well it's not dat, either," he finished.

"Oh fer the love of…"

"Now, now chere, peace & tranquility remember? No more hostility."

"I'm gonna take my peace right outta your behind if you don't hurry up and get to the point!"

He grinned though she couldn't see it, "Threats don't get you nowhere wit' most people, Rogue."

Biting her lip, she sighed and started to apologize.

"Good t'ing I ain't most people, eh?" He turned back to look at her over his shoulder as he continued onward at an increased pace – after all, he didn't want her to hit him!

Her eyes flashed with rage, but before she could snap back at him, a wayward tree branch crossed Remy's path and he turned back around just in time to meet it right in the face. As he muttered a curse and felt his now bruised forehead (a lovely addition to his already blackened right eye), Rogue quickly clasped her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing. Still, a small snort escaped her and Remy turned back – at a full stop this time – to glare at her.

The look was shattered by the large red welt forming right above his furrowed brows and the beautiful shiner he was sporting.

This time, she laughed out loud at him, but at least had the decency to turn her head away and try to stifle it… at least a little.

"Ha ha ha," he mocked, "let's all laugh at poor, bruised Gambit. Glad you're getting such a rise outta my pain, chere. I'm deeply touched by your concern."

"Thanks. Can't say I don't enjoy a bit of 'slapstick' every now and then…" she replied with a wide grin.

Remy tried to look angry, but he only held the glare for about a second before he started chuckling too.

Before either of them knew what was happening, they had erupted into giggles that quickly morphed into uncontained, full-fledged guffaws of laughter.

Soon, Rogue was holding her sides and moaning between her snickers as she tried to stop the side-splitting pain caused by the sudden outburst.

They were still grinning like idiots when Remy sighed and broke the suddenly jovial mood by continuing forward without another word. He still had to TELL her about the third part and it made his stomach roil uncomfortably.

Rogue's smile faltered. Had she said or done something, to make him switch gears like that so suddenly? They had been getting along so well – had even been laughing together! HER! Laughing! She never laughed!

But then he just turned cold so suddenly. Nibbling on her lower lip, she continued after him quietly, deep in thought.

After a few minutes of strained silence, Rogue finally cleared her throat and spoke up. "So uh, what's the third thing?"

"Quoi? (What?)" he asked, trying to play stupid while he thought of another way to avoid the subject. The tree branch had been a welcome distraction – painful – but welcome nonetheless.

"The third thing - in the ritual? You know that thing Apocalypse is going to do so I can be his slave forever?"

"Technically, y' won't be his slave," Remy winced inwardly. Now why did he have to go and say a thing like that?

"What do you mean 'technically'?"

"Technically," merde, merde, merde – must stall! "You know, like you could call me a 'boy' even though I'm 'technically' a man. Or even though were mutants, we're still 'technically' human?"

"I know what 'technically' means Remy, don't change the subject," she stopped short and put her hands on her hips, "what's the third thing?"

"The third?" He stopped to look at her, took in the challenging glare and body language, then gulped before turning back around and practically sprinting away.

She chased him.

"DANG IT Remy, tell me what the third thing is or so help me!"

"So help you what, Rogue?" he called back over his shoulder while continuing onward, "you ain't got no powers any more so you can't just drain de answer outta me. Seems I'm de one holdin' all de cards, eh?"

Rogue growled from behind him, but stayed hot on his heels.

"Will you just TELL me already? The suspense is makin' me sick!" It was true, too. She was starting to feel VERY nauseous now – must be the stupid berries.

Time to bite the bullet and just get it over with! "Technically you won't be his slave 'cause he wants to make you his Queen."

"Yeah, ah know. He called me that a bunch," she yelled back as they continued at a very brisk pace – Rogue had to practically jog to keep up with him. "Why though? And how! How does he intend to make me his Queen? Aren't Queens usually married to K-…" Her eyes widened as realization dawned.

In the vision, Apocalypse had been awfully touchy and the way he had looked at her was almost…

"Oh mah God," Rogue muttered, her pace slackening, but not stopping entirely. Her stomach was doing back flips now.

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner. Tell de pretty lady what's she's won!" Remy joked upon glancing back at Rogue's suddenly VERY pale face.

At least she wasn't throwing stuff at him for not telling her sooner. Yet.

"Well chere, you've won a beautiful white wedding dress, golden crown with dozens of rare and precious jewels, a 100 something karat diamond wedding ring aaaaaand… a lifetime of world-dominating bliss with a complete madman! Congratulations!"

He stopped mid-stride and turned to find Rogue staring, motionless, at the ground. Her mouth was still open in a wide "O" and her eyes appeared almost glassy as she clutched at her ribs. Or was it her stomach?

"Rogue?"

"Is there more?" she asked quietly, bringing her eyes up to meet his. Her grey/green eyes were shining lightly with what looked like tears, but her gaze and posture were so resolute that he couldn't lie to her or beat around the bush any more.

"Yeah, dere's more," he sighed, resigning. "De third way dat Apocalypse is going to make sure you stay his slave or Queen or whatever is by …" he swallowed hard and stared at the ground, "… taking your virginity."

She said nothing and he couldn't bear to look at her. He was too afraid of the shame, embarrassment, fear or whatever emotion he would see on her face.

"Said that you're completely 'untouched.' Pure. He said that by de-flowering you and destroying that purity, it would bind you to him completely and almost irreparably, which is why we gotta work on those other two things so hard an' fast. 'Cause if'n dey find you, we gotta make sure we have a failsafe."

He tried to lighten the mood with a fake smile as he carefully approached her, but the glow didn't reach his face – or hers.

"But hey, look on de bright side. I ain't gonna let dem find you or take you, so you don't have to worry about any of it, d'accord?"

She nodded numbly as he reached out for her, tilting her slightly quivering chin with his fingers to look him in the eye.

"S' gonna be okay, chere. Promise."

She swallowed uncertainly and her eyes widened as they locked with his.

Was he was leaning in?

He WAS! What was he…? Was he was going to KISS her! His unique, beautiful eyes were still on hers, but the lids were slowly sinking closed and despite the rumblings in her stomach she found her own doing the same.

She could feel his breath on her face – warm and moist and… so much like Apocalypse. Who wanted to rape her and use her and …

Oh god.

"Remy, ah…" her eyes opened a bit more as she tried to choke out her words, but her stomach was churning and she couldn't think straight, and his breath was on her face - on her skin - and …

He pulled back infinitesimally with his eyes still mostly closed and responded with a breathy, "oui?"

Her eyes flew open as she wrenched her head from his grasp and jumped back from him.

"Ah think ah'm gonna be sick!" With that, she turned and fled three or four steps to the cover of a cluster of trees and proceeded to vomit all over the forest floor. S

Remy winced. It wasn't exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for. Not that he was looking for a reaction in the first place – he was trying to comfort her and in the next moment… It had just happened. He'd had the overwhelming urge to kiss her – kiss away her terror and tears and he'd gotten carried away.

Stupid!

He cursed himself out silently and stepped behind Rogue as she gagged. With one hand supporting herself against a tree and the other wrapped around her stomach – or was it her ribs now? – she spared the hand about her mid-section for a moment to try and wave him away. It was a motion that was greatly impeded by the heaving gags she was trying desperately to suppress.

Ignoring her unspoken pleas, Remy stepped right up alongside her and carefully gathered her curled, dirty hair with one hand and held it away from her face while the other rubbed her back soothingly.

As soon as Rogue figured out that the Cajun wasn't just going to leave her in the peace of puking out her organs, she gave up on trying to keep her berries down and instead gave in to the swirling mass of disgustingness in her stomach.

She vomited and retched and gagged for nearly 10 minutes – long after she had nothing left to give – and still her body was racked with long, painful dry heaves. Her face was streaked with dirt, mud, berry juice and now tears and she didn't doubt that she had bile somewhere in the mix as well. And her hair… oh her hair was likely a disaster.

If Remy hadn't pulled it back as soon as he had – she blanched at the mere thought of how badly she would have looked then.

Of course, he'd just had a front row seat to her amazing digestive pyrotechnics so…

Oh GOD!

Rogue tried not to whimper as she took a deep breath and gagged again.

"Take it easy, chere," Remy said at last. "Don' rush it. Breathe in through de nose and out through de mouth. Nice and easy like." He continued to brush one hand soothingly over her back as he whispered quietly to her, seemingly content to just hold her hair and stand with her.

He just hoped she hadn't gotten any vomit on his shoes…

XXXXX

Jean sighed heavily and rubbed her temples as she closed her college textbook for European History and pushed it away. Rolling her head in a few quick semicircles to work out the kinks in her neck, she nibbled on her lip a moment before rising from the small oak desk in her bedroom.

She had immediately retreated to blessed isolation after showing Dr. Braddock to one of the guest rooms. The two had hardly exchanged more than three words along the way and thankfully, Jean recalled, the psychologist had not tried to bring up any type of psychobabble or small talk.

Crossing her room to the closed door, Jean paused as she reached for the handle. She wanted to see Scott, but he was still in the Professor's office – presumably discussing Scott's current "condition" – mental, physical and otherwise.

She frowned as she recalled her boyfriend's appearance that morning. Sure he hadn't left her room until the late morning hours and neither had gotten much sleep despite the reassuring calm of their shared presence, but before the … incident… he had at least been able to function on such a lack of sleep. The young man who had spoken out against Betsy's presence that morning was not the same person as the tough, unshakeable leader she had come to fall in love with.

Rogue's … death … was impacting Scott Summers much more deeply than Jean liked. She herself was grieving too – everyone was – but with the way Scott was acting, it was almost like… like he had lost a love…

Jean swallowed hard and ducked her head shamefully. What was WRONG with her! She was jealous of Rogue! A moody, foul-mouthed, untouchable gothic girl. A de - Jean paused as the reality sunk in - a DEAD girl.

Tears sprung to the red-head's eyes as she walled off her emotions and thoughts and grabbed the door handle, roughly pulling it open. Kitty and Kurt were fighting in the Danger Room again, the Brotherhood Boys were doing … something… in the gardens, the X-boys were causing mischief and mayhem for each other (their own unique way of dealing), and the girls were all downstairs eating chocolate and ice cream and gossiping.

It was just what she needed! A little feminine company and social interaction would really help take her mind off Scott, Apocalypse and… everything.

She practically raced down to the kitchen area, passing six or seven Jamie's throwing water balloons at Ray and Roberto rather quickly and without comment. Normally she would scold them for making such a mess, but at the moment everyone needed some kind of release and it didn't feel right to make them stop. As long as they cleaned up the destruction later, she wouldn't get mad.

Still, the boys paused and froze as she passed – not daring to breathe lest they be scolded. She sensed their bewilderment as she continued on her way without notice to their "activities," but within moments of her departure, they renewed their efforts and started throwing powers into the mix.

Jean winced. Maybe she should have at least warned them to keep it down…

Oh well. Besides, she wasn't so anal that she'd tell the boys to behave themselves when they just needed to let off a little steam. And since the Danger Room was constantly being monopolized by either Kurt or Logan… well, an indoor water fight wasn't the WORST thing that had ever happened to the mansion.

As she approached the kitchen, Jean pasted her trademark smile on her face and prepared to join the latest gossip pool. So long as the topic didn't turn toward … recent events… everything would be fine. And she could always steer the conversation in a new direction if need be.

She brightened a little as she heard laughter reverberate through the room and quickened her pace so she could join in on the fun. She was just in time to hear Tabitha get started – that girl may be a handful, but she was sure good for fun and gossip!

"… Aside from that outburst in the Control Room yesterday, little miss perfect hasn't batted an eyelash once. She just keeps going on through her day like everything's normal – studying for tests, talking on the phone, surfing the net, chores, everything. I don't care how much those two didn't get along. Have a little respect, huh?" Tabitha's voice was sour and sullen and the mood in the room darkened.

Jean stopped and gasped. She may be a telepath, but she didn't need her powers to know exactly who and what they were talking about. Biting her lip and turning on her heel, Jean fled the scene with tears in her eyes. S

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What ah WANT is for you to just stop pesterin' me okay?" Rogue shouted at Remy as she sat on a rock by the river with her eyes shut. She wasn't exactly sure which side of the river she was on, or where it was in relation to her … When they'd arrived, Remy had turned her around in enough circles to make her nearly puke.

Again.

"Ah've had enough water. Don't need more for a good while. Ah've had enough rest and Ah've DEFINITELY had enough berries," she growled at him – wherever he was. "Let's just get movin' again, okay? The farther away we get the better."

She shuddered involuntarily as she recalled Remy's description of Apocalypse's plans and the man's rather unhealthy obsession with her.

"You need to eat somethin' chere, s' not healthy to keep movin' on an empty stomach," he called back from … was it her left?

"The only thing ah need is for you to leave me alone! You're not my moth---," she grimaced with a brief scowl, "mah KEEPER, so ah don't need you to keep fawnin' over me."

"Why not?" he asked, suddenly in front of her. She jumped slightly and tried to glare at him even though her eyes were closed. "Someone needs t' fawn over you. You're obviously starved for attention."

She made a rather undignified noise deep in her throat and started to respond when he cut her off.

"And what did I say about glarin' at people. No glarin'. Bad girl."

He flicked her on the nose.

She flinched away from him – eyes still closed – and paused. Did he just…?

Once she had recovered from the shock of being scolded like a dog and FLICKED, her eyes flew open as she growled – with eerie similarity to Logan and Sabertooth – and leapt toward Gambit, fists swinging wide.

Remy laughed as he easily caught both of her wrists in his hands and held them gently above her head. "No hittin' OR kickin' either," he reprimanded, "or so help me, I'll bend you over my knee and give you a whoopin!"

He laughed aloud as she glared at him indignantly but still flushed a tiny bit. "Besides, petite, it's all tied in to that little ritual and you don't want to give Apocalypse any leverage, do ya?"

She looked about to give him the verbal lashing of his life, but instead took a deep breath, held it, released it slowly and with a shake of the head, confirmed that no, she did not.

"Bien," (good) he replied and released her. "Now shut dem eyes 'fore you give away our position."

With another deep, calming breath, Rogue complied and patiently sat back down on her designated rock.

His breath was at her ear as soon as she was seated. "Course, if you LIKE bein' spanked, just let me know and I'd be happy to oblige."

"CAJUN!" she screamed with her face blushing bright red as she lunged at him again.

XXXXX

"Yo dude, I'm telling you – we should make it out of wood," Todd complained as he hopped in circles around a large, empty patch of land near the far end of Xavier's gardens.

"We're not making it out of wood," Lance sighed as he squinted against the bright rays of the sun and tried to find the right angle. "Rogue was totally green and would hate the fact that we killed a tree to do something for her."

"What are we even going to DO?" Freddy asked between bites of his enormous sub sandwich. A slice of tomato fell out of the end and landed on his rotund, protruding belly and he simply shrugged as he picked it off his now stained white shirt and shoved it in his mouth.

"I don't know yet," Lance replied, scratching his head and mussing up his nicely done hair, "but I know it has to be special."

"Special-as-in-nice-or-special-as-in-retarded-because-you-KNOW-that's-how-it's-going-to-turn-out," Pietro commented from his seat on the nearby bench. He was watching the other three with a look of exasperation as they alternately circled the area, squinted, scratched and sighed. S

"Why-are-we-even-doing-this-again? It's-so-lame. We're-not-craftsmen-you-know. Anything-we-try-to-do-is-just-going-to-get-laughed-at-or-torn-down. Might-as-well-not-even-try."

Fred's face fell as he realized the truth of Pietro's words. "He's right, man, we should just give it up now before anyone knows what we were even doing."

Lance sighed and rubbed a hand over his face as he, too, considered the option of quitting.

"I don't know guys, it just feels wrong not to do SOMETHING," he said at last. "I know they're having a mock funeral 'memorial' for her and everything, but it doesn't seem like … enough."

"Well-you-know-Rogue," Pietro started again, "she-would-never-want-a-big-fuss-or-anything. She'd-probably-just-beat-us-around-if-she-knew-you-were-even-thinking-about-it."

Lance sighed again and with a long look up at one particular window in Xavier's mansion, he nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Forget it."

Pietro nodded as well and he, Lance and Fred turned to head back inside when Todd suddenly hopped in front of them and blocked the path.

"No way, yo," he defied as he stood at full height and crossed his arms stubbornly.

"But Toad, Pietro's right," Fred whined, "it'll just look crappy and it's not like she would even want one anyway."

"Doesn't matter if it looks crappy, it's the thought that counts, right?" Todd rounded again, refusing to back down.

"Yeah-you-just-keep-telling-yourself-that-slimeboy," Pietro mocked as he rolled his eyes. "I'm-going-inside-to-check-out-the-video-games-or-something. Later-losers."

With that he was gone in a streak of silver.

Todd still didn't move though. "Lance, come on, yo. You knew Rogue the best – you guys were like, sorta buds," the boy persuaded, "you tellin' me that she wouldn't appreciate it just a little bit?"

Fred pondered as he chewed on the last piece of his sandwich. "Fink he's gaw a poiwn Wanc." He swallowed at last, "Rogue may not have like having a fuss over her, but everyone likes to know they were appreciated. That someone cared about them…"

Lance winced and looked back at the empty space where the … thing… would go. "I don't know. I still think she'd rather skin us alive than thank us."

"Think of it this way, yo," Todd explained, "Wouldn't she want to know that SOMEONE missed her? That SOMEONE thought about her enough to do something bigger than a simple memorial and pretty words? A stupid little headstone with her name on it doesn't exactly say, 'You were pretty awesome most of the time,' does it? You don't think she'd want SOMETHING more?"

Lance rubbed his temples gingerly and shook his head. "I don't think she wanted anything Toad. I think she got the only thing she ever wanted. Freedom. She can fly free now – no powers, no misery or pain. Just the freedom to fly." Without another look back, the Brotherhood leader swallowed the lump in his throat and shoved past Toad as he went to look for Kitty.

Fred stood silently looking back and forth between Lance and Toad – trying to decide which path to chose.

Finally, he rubbed his sticky, tomato and mayo covered hands on his overalls and clapped them together.

"Alright little buddy, I'm with you. Let's do something really special. For Rogue."

Todd beamed.

"For Rogue, man, for Rogue."

XXXXX

"Rogue! Y' gotta work with me here, okay? I'm obviously not doin' dis for m' own health!" Remy shouted with the last shred of his patience as he rubbed his skull gingerly… again.

He and Rogue were walking through the forest (yet again) while he tried desperately to get her to open up to him. She had been eerily silent for most of the day and more so since he'd told her of Apocalypse's plans.

He had to get her to open up to him, and soon, but had no idea where to start.

Asking her point blank to "let him in," hadn't turned out so well and he'd ended up with yet another bruise to the back of his head – presumably from a rock… again.

Damn, but that girl was dangerous with those things!

"Oh, ah'm sorry if ah'm not takin' yer attempts to 'get to know me' seriously. Maybe it would help if you stopped askin' about my UNDERWEAR!" she shouted at him from a behind.

He ducked just as another small stone whipped by his head and collided with the white, knotted trunk of a large tree in front of him.

"You sure you never been on a girls' softball team or nothin'? Y'r DEADLY accurate with dose rocks, chere."

"First of all, softball's for wusses. Ah prefer REAL baseball – with the wooden bats. Secondly, if you think ah'm accurate NOW just wait 'til I get less than twenty feet away from you!"

She was snarling again. She was honestly trying to improve her attitude and be… NICE… but that damn Cajun was so damn GOOD at pissing her off!

She couldn't help it if the only thing she wanted to discuss with him was how he'd like his entrails prepared for burial…

"Alright, alright. I give," Remy submitted finally and stopped to wait for Rogue to catch up. "I'll stop askin' about your preference in sexual positions if you'll play a little game wit me."

She blushed in response and glared at him, folding her arms and huffing loudly. "How about we DON'T play a little game and ah beat you silly instead?"

He raised his arms up in surrender as she fell into step beside him. The woods were less dense in this area and though the two had to duck a few branches occasionally, there was just enough room for them to walk together comfortably – at least comfortably where personal space was concerned. Rogue still looked far from comfortable with him despite his best attempts at teasing, flattering, flirting, and even good old-fashioned 3rd grade hair-pulling tactics.

He was beginning to run out of ideas on how to get her to play along and really open up to him. He might actually have to divulge something about himself for her to do the same, but that was just out of the question. There had to be SOMETHING that would either tempt her to talk to him or in the very least, drive her so insane that she would have no other choice.

In his mind it was quickly settled. He COULD go for the honest and true heart-to-heart approach, but he decided that sheer annoyance would be much more effective.

Not to mention fun!

He could try tickling her again, but that might injure her ribs more and they couldn't have that. A water fight in the river would be too cold for this time in the evening… He couldn't poke her or tug on her hair or she'd just wallop him. He needed something that would seem innocent, but really work as a plot to break down her resolve and make her talk.

He could whistle! No, actually, he couldn't whistle. He'd always been horrible at it. He'd perfected the "appreciative whistle" after years of practice, but couldn't carry a tune to save his life…

PERFECT!

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHH! Dis is the song dat doesn't eND! Yes it goes on and on my FriENd! Some people sTARted singin' it, not knowin' what it was, an' dey'll continue singin' it FoReVER just because dis is de SONG dat doesn't EnD!" Remy belted out the tune the best he knew how and made sure to throw off a couple extra keys just for good measure.

"Yes it goes on and on my FriENd! Some people sTARted singin' it, not knowin' what it was, an' dey'll conTINUE singIN' it FoReVER just becAUSe dis is de SONG dat doesn't EnD! Yes it goes on and on my FriENd! Some people sTARted singin' it, not knowin' what it was, an' dey'll conTINUE singIN' it FoReVER just becAUSe dis is de SONG dat doesn't EnD!"

Rogue was rolling her eyes and trying to ignore him, but he could tell by the tick at the corner of her left eye that he was slowly getting to her.

"Yes it goes on and on my FriENd! Some people sTARted singin' it, not knowin' what it was, an' dey'll conTINUE singIN' it FoReVER just becAUSe dis is de SONG dat doesn't EnD!"

"Ah'm absolutely horrified that you even know that song," she finally said, trying to get him to shut up for two seconds and give her ears a break.

"You'd be surprised de amount of t'ings I know chere. Bet I'd be surprised 'bout all de stuff you know and like, too. Shame we'll never know, eh?" he responded with a smirk. "Oh well, m' sure I'll find SOME way to fill the silence."

Rogue suppressed an eye roll. "Ah'm sure you will with that mouth…" she muttered under her breath.

Remy thought about responding with a witty comeback, but instead just shrugged and started up his singing practice again.

"Dis is de song dat doesn't eND! Yes it goes on and on my FriENd! Some people sTARted singin' it, not knowin' what it was, an' dey'll conTINUE singIN' it FoReVER just becAUSe dis is de SONG dat doesn't EnD! Yes it goes on and on my FriENd! Some people sTARted singin' it, not knowin' what it was, an' dey'll conTINUE singIN' it FoReVER just becAUSe dis is de SONG dat doesn't EnD!"

"Oh fer pete's sake!" Rogue cried, but only quickened her pace.

Remy quickened his too, and tried to stay as close on her heels as possible – being sure to project his voice into her ear as loudly as possible.

"Yes it goes on and on my FriENd! Some people sTARted singin' it, not knowin' what it was, an' dey'll conTINUE singIN' it FoReVER just becAUSe dis is de SONG dat doesn't EnD! Yes it goes on and on my FriENd! Some people sTARted singin' it, not knowin' what it was, an' dey'll conTINUE singIN' it FoReVER just becAUSe dis is de SONG dat doesn't EnD!"

X

All in all, he was surprised. It had only taken her 10 minutes to cave. So Supergirl Rogue had a kryptonite weakness after all. Picture that… S

"Yes. Ah want to play a game with you Remy. Ah said it didn't ah? As long as it doesn't involve anything… inappropriate or you SINGING," she added a "if that's what you're calling it" under her breath for pure spite, "then yes, ah will play a game with you. But if ah don't like the game, ah don't have to play. Deal?"

Remy bowed his head and considered the proposal.

"No deal."

"What?" Rogue looked positively stupefied.

"You heard me Mademoiselle Banker (Miss/Ms. – "Let's Make a Deal" Reference) I said "NO DEAL!" He pretended to slap down an invisible box and then ran around her in circles with his arms flailing wildly in the air.

Rogue stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "But YOU'RE the one who…"

"Nuh uh!" he argued as he came to a dead stop in front of her. "You don't just get to SAY you don't like the game and then not play. You either have to play de game or come up wit' a better one. Can't quit just like dat."

"But!"

"No buts. Or do y' want me t' start singin' again?"

Rogue groaned. Could she take any MORE of the singing?

"Do y' know 'Alouette' Rogue? I bet you'd like it. It goes like dis: 'Alouette, gentille Alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai. Je te plumerai la tete – je te plumerai la tete. Et la tete. Et la tete. Alouette. Alouette. OOHHHH! Alouette, gentille Alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai. Je te plumerai…'". (pretty much means, "little bird, sweet little bird. Little bird I'm going to pluck your feathers. I'm going to pluck your head. I'm going to pluck your head. And your head, and your head. Little bird. Little bird…" Kinda morbid.)

"Okay, okay. Ah give. What's the game?" Rogue cut him off quickly. She'd taken enough French to know the meaning of that awful song and there were only so many repetitive verses she could stand – even if Remy's French lilt was much nicer than his previous crooning.

Remy smiled triumphantly and walked alongside her again.

"Twenty Questions, chere. Winner take all."

"Winner take – Remy there's no WINNER t' 20 questions! And ah'm only playin' so long as you don't ask anything too personal," she demanded with a warning finger pointed in his face.

"D'accord (okay) nothin' too personal."

"And if ah don't like the question, ah don't have t' answer it."

"K, Same here, BUT you only get 2 freebies per round. I won't go out of my way to ask anything too private, but you gotta at least make a decent effort."

"Sounds fair," she agreed.

"AND," he added, making Rogue grimace, "if I get curious 'bout a certain answer, I'm allowed to ask for clarification."

"Long as ah get to do the same, that'll be fine."

"Okay den, deal?" he asked, sticking out his hand to her.

With a deep breath and a tug at her bottom lip, she took his palm in her own.

"Deal."

XXXXX

"Just back OFF Kitty, I don't want to talk to you or Betsy or anyone!" Kurt shouted at his brunette friend just before he teleported angrily from the Danger Room.

Kitty winced and bit her lip as the smoky sulfur invaded her senses, nearly blinding her.

Why couldn't he just accept it? Rogue was gone and the only thing left to do was figure out a way to take down Apocalypse.

Sighing, she shook her head to clear away the horrible thoughts and her messy pony tail bobbed dismally, it's normally perky bounce and luster betrayingly absent.

She ambled out of the now empty Danger Room in search of Dr. McCoy or Ororo – even if Kurt refused to listen to her, surely he would heed the advice of a teacher?

Kitty knew that this outright denial of … events… was extremely unhealthy for her poor blue-furred friend. He had to just ACCEPT … things … and move on. She had. No use sulking and moaning about it anymore. There would be time for grieving later.

"No, there are far more important things to worry about now," she thought morbidly as a scowl formed on her pretty little pixie face and distorted her features.

Like revenge.

XXXXX

"Favorite food." Remy asked as they walked, making sure to keep a mental catalog of all her answers. Who knew when they would come in handy – now or down the road during a date?

Wait, a date? Was he really thinking like that already? Merde dis girl was doin' a number on him. He couldn't wait to get outta here and back to the land of sanity!

Rogue replied without hesitation, "Fried chicken with mashed potatoes and yellow gravy, corn on the cob and hush puppies."

"Dat's not a food, chere, dat's a MEAL. What's de one food dat you could eat over and over again forever and not get sick of?"

She chewed her lip as she thought about it. "Guess ah'd have to say… watermelon. That's 9 by the way, Remy."

He opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again and humphed instead.

"Why watermelon?" he asked, but quickly replaced it with "I mean 'clarification, please,' chere."

She smiled a tiny bit and nodded. "Because it's sweet and juicy and sticky. It's one food you don't eat with a fork – ah can't wear my gloves when ah eat it and there's nothing like lickin' your fingers clean after some quality watermelon. Just the feeling of sucking that juice off each individual finger – takin' mah time and not worryin' about anyone else – breathin' in the sweet, tangy smell and that taste …"

She cleared her throat and blushed slightly as she realized how her words must sound to him.

"Sorry, ah didn't mean to make it sound like…"

"Don't worry 'bout it chere. But I do have t' say, you sure made me hungry for some good watermelon," he suggested flirtatiously and grinned when Rogue's blush deepened. Before she could round on him, he continued the game.

"Favorite brand of soap?"

"Soap? Why in the world…?" He gave her a no-nonsense look though and she sighed. "Okay. Brand of soap. Ah guess it's Dove.

"Clarification."

"Dang it Remy, you can't ask for clarification on EVERY question! It's soap for cryin' out loud, not some lewd fantasy about you in your trench coat!" She nearly gasped, but the immediate crimson color that stained her face was all Remy needed for further provocation.

"You have lewd fantasies about me? Really? Clarification, please." He was as eager as a puppy with a ball and Rogue knew that nothing would wipe the smirk off his face now.

Lord. Her and her stupid mouth and her stupid thoughts and his stupid coat! She had watched him walk ahead of her nearly all day with nothing to do but watch the coat sway back and forth along his well-toned calves. It had started out with her imagining that he must be getting awfully warm and sweaty. And, well, once she started thinking about him being all sweaty it had all gone downhill from there…

"No. No. Hell No, and that's seven and six. Next question." There, she had handled that pretty well, now hopefully he would move on and forget that stupid Freudian slip.

"Aw, chere, you're no fun. Please tell me about your lewd sex dreams? Gambit swears he won't tell a soul! PLEASE?" he whined desperately.

"Double and triple no, Swamp Rat. Ah don't HAVE sex dreams. 'Specially not about YOU! Sides, wouldn't have even had TIME to have dreams about you – we just met YESTERDAY."

"Technically," he corrected with a huge grin, "We've met before; you remember DAT."

She frowned. Well who WOULDN'T remember some cocky SOB nearly blowing their hand off? "Yeah, ah remember all right. Still owe you for that little present, too. And you're down t' three."

He stuck his tongue out at her and reached for her hair to pull out a bit of moss. "Fine den, River Rat. What's your theme song?"

"Mah THEME song?" She turned to him, a look of utter confusion on her pale face.

"Oui. Your theme song – it's the one song that best describes you or gets you through de day - one that you would play as the opening music if your life were a movie. Your theme song." He cocked his head to the side and looked at her like it was the most obvious question in the world - as if it were right up there with 'favorite brand of soap.'

Rogue shook her head, but bit her lip again, thinking. "Ah don't rightly know. Guess ah'll have to think about it and take a rain check."

"I'll hold you to it," he grinned.

"Oh ah'm SURE you will," she replied flippantly, skirting around an overgrown pine tree.

"What does dat mean?"

"That's two," she smirked, "It means that you are a pushy, obnoxious, stubborn person who won't let things rest until you're fully satisfied and get your way. THAT's what 'dat' means."

This time it was Remy's turn to growl indignantly. "Fine. So last question den. What's your favorite color?"

"Black," she replied quickly, automatically.

"Nuh uh. Ain't fallin' for dat. What's the real answer? You have to answer HONESTLY, remember? Doesn't help your case against Apocalypse if you lie t' me."

"How do YOU know what mah favorite color is and if ah'm lyin' or not. BLACK is…" As Remy folded his arms defiantly, Rogue sighed and dropped her head shamefully.

"Alright, fine. It's not mah favorite color. In fact, ah don't even really LIKE black – least on me. Ah didn't MEAN t' lie t' you. It's just that … most people assume it's black because they think ah'm gothic – what with the way ah dress and everything. People stay away from me when ah'm wearin' all black. It's just been easier to let people think what they want and not correct them. If they don't want to ask, ah'm not going to tell them." She fidgeted with the ends of her curly hair and tried to pull some of the excess moss and twigs from it.

"Dat's great – thanks f'r sharin', but y'r stalling, Rogue. What's your favorite color?"

She swallowed. Why was it so hard to tell him something as simple as her favorite color?

"It's uh, green. Like emerald green."

"Hmm. Nice choice," was all he said. "Your turn."

She was shocked. He didn't make a big fuss about her secret color of choice, her lying, hiding or the fact that she didn't love black. So why had she been so concerned about answering honestly in the first place?

"Um," she stumbled, looking for the right question. "Okay, same thing, what's your favorite color?"

"Black," he replied with a smirk.

"Bull." There was no way his favorite color was black. It just …didn't seem to fit.

"Clarification."

"S' true. Black is de color of night – of darkness and mystery and spooks. I've always functioned better at night, when it's dark and black. M' eyes are a bit sensitive to light and most people have a harder time noticin' their natural color when it's black out – or in. I always look good in black. 'Course, I look good in anythin', but most especially black. There ain't no 'shades' of black neither. Just black. One color, one shade. No one expects anything more from de color black den to keep bein' black."

Rogue nodded silently, looking very impressed by his explanation and he beamed.

"Course, wit' dose eyes of yours, I t'ink maybe my favorite color be changin' soon, n'est pas? (is it not?)."

Rogue rolled her eyes, but ducked her head to hide her light blush behind her hair. She was amazed by how easily he could throw her off balance like that. One minute he was deadly serious, deep and insightful, the next he was flirting with her shamelessly and within sixty seconds he could do a whole 360 and annoy the hell out of her again. The X-Man tried not to huff as she sorted through her conflicting emotions and tried to change the subject back to the game before the mood got to heavy.

"Favorite food?" she asked as he stepped over a small tree.

"Gumbo." His smile nearly split his face as he caught the incredulous look upon her face.

She snorted. "How typical."

"M' serious!" he defended quickly, "My Tante (Aunt) makes d' world's best Gumbo. I could eat dat stuff f'r every meal, every day, for de rest o' my life."

His stomach promptly agreed by rumbling loudly and his face screwed up as he pulled a handful of berries from his coat pocket and popped a few in his mouth before offering the rest to Rogue.

She declined with disgust.

"Gotta eat sometime chere. Best t' keep your strength up." He held them out to her again and she begrudgingly took them.

"Tell me more 'bout yer family," she said as she examined one blue, semi-squished berry and stuck it in her mouth.

"Dat ain'ta question petite, can't fool me."

They came to a large fallen tree – about four feet wide and a hundred plus feet long – that was blocking the immediate path. The area all around it was incredibly dense with pine and fir trees and the only logical way to go was up and over.

Rogue was studying the giant log – trying to figure the best way to get over without injuring her ribs – when she felt Remy's strong, gentle hands wrap around her hips and hoist her into the air.

Suppressing a squeal of surprise, Rogue brought her knees up so she could place her feet on top of the wood and tried to catch her balance as Remy removed his hands. She ended the brief but strange swaying dance with a jittery half-stand, half-crouch and watched with envy as Remy simply placed one hand on top of the tree and vaulted over it with easy.

"Nice," she complimented with a hint of jealousy to her tone. Of course she could do the same herself if her ribs weren't broken, but in her current condition, she didn't dare try.

"Merci," (thank you) he replied with a small smile and bow. He then held out his hands to her and she toed closer to the curved edge of the log.

As she leaned down to place her hands on his shoulders – his hands already resting comfortably on her waist again – her sandals slipped on the smooth bark and propelled her forward abruptly.

With an almost casual grace, Remy swung Rogue's feet over and up to his left side and followed the momentum of her tumble as he dropped his hands from her hips and caught her behind the knees and shoulders in a bridal-style. He spun her around in a quick circle and laughed at the shocked look on her face before he dropped her gently to the ground.

"Well!" he said once she was standing steadily on her own two feet again, "I've had m' share of girls fallin' all over me, but dat was a unique approach." His cocky, knowing grin was all the excuse she needed to slap him lightly on the arm. "Hey now, is that any way t' treat de man who just saved you from the vicious tree monster?"

Rogue's lower lip quivered with barely contained laughter, but her eyes danced with amusement.

Without warning, she suddenly clasped her hands together in mock pleading and bent at the knees in a shoddy attempt to kneel without touching the ground.

"Oh good sir, PLEASE forgive me for my insolence! Thank you ever so kindly for SAVING me from the awful tree monster! Surely ah would have DIED without you!" Rogue could no longer contain her smile as she looked up at Remy with mischief in her eyes.

He patted her on the head. "You are forgiven mademoiselle, after all you are but human. But come, thank me properly now and give your wonderful white knight a kiss!"

Remy audaciously bent his head forward to Rogue's level and puckered his lips – fully expecting to be slapped.

What he didn't expect was a girlish giggle followed by a light kiss on the cheek.

With another soft chuckle and shake of the head Rogue turned to continue down the path, leaving Remy to stare in wonder as he touched his cheek softly.

"Come on white knight, we better get movin' before Apocalypse gets a chance t' catch up!"

But even with the threat of Apocalypse looming over them, neither one could wipe the smiles off their faces.

XXXXX

"Professor, we've been through this a dozen times already! Yes, I'm upset about Rogue. Yes, I feel guilty. No, I'm not going crazy. And yes, I'm going to go talk to Betsy. You can stop worrying about me and start worrying about finding Apocalypse." Scott repeated as he sat hunched over on the couch in Xavier's office.

"You'll have to forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced of your easy dismissal. I know that Rogue's death is affecting you greatly Scott…" Xavier started before Scott cut him off.

"It's affecting ALL of us Professor! It's not like I'm any better or worse off than Kurt or Kitty or Logan," he argued. "We're all grieving right now – we just all handle it differently."

"Yes, that's true Scott, but the way you are handling this is so… out of character for you. I've never seen you like this before and it worries me. It worries the students too. And Jean. I understand that you're grieving Scott – that everyone is feeling the same way right now – but your inability to function on a normal level despite this difficult time is what has me worried."

"Inability to...? Professor! I'm functioning just fine!"

The Professor raised an eyebrow and glanced at the boy's socks. "Then you wouldn't mind telling me why you have two different colored socks on?"

"I'm color-blind," he bit out, "it kinda comes with the glasses." Scott was barely restraining himself from snarling at the Professor and tried to take a deep breath to calm himself.

"I see. And your clothes and hair?"

"Well gee Professor, I'm sorry I didn't dress up in a suit and tie for you, but one of my best friends just DIED because we FAILED and couldn't stop Apocalypse. Forgive me for my lack of propriety!" Scott shouted as he towered above the Professor – the desire to hit something was becoming much harder to suppress and Scott was starting to fear that the Professor was going to take the brunt of that mistake.

"Why don't you stop concerning yourself with my CLOTHES and start looking for ways to stop Apocalypse and bring him down. 'Cause like it or not, I'm coming with you when it happens. There's no way I'm not gonna be there for the rematch. There's a score to settle and I intend to be there."

Before the Professor could reply, Scott was heading for the door and effectively dismissing any further discussion of the matter.

"I'll be in the Danger Room with Kurt. Working on my grief in a HEALTHY way if that's okay with you." It wasn't a question.

The Professor sighed and rubbed his temples. He should go check on the other students or at least see how Beast and Storm were progressing on their search for information on Apocalypse, but his head was throbbing from the emotional and mental strain of the last few days.

He looked out the window and sighed, glancing up at the heavens at wondering if anyone was really watching over them.

If anyone was watching over Rogue…

XXXXX

"ARGH!" Kurt bellowed from his new perch atop the mansion's roof. He paced back and forth in the cool summer breeze as he tried to work off his frustrations on the shingles.

Expensive, yes, but well worth the peace and solitude right now. Plus, it was probably far cheaper than beating his anger out on the Danger Room sims every other hour!

He groaned again and pulled at his hair as he quickened his pace across the roof.

Why didn't anyone BELIEVE him?

They SHOULD be out looking for Rogue, but instead, the Professor had brought in a "professional" grief counselor! What a crock of …

A bird's song interrupted his line of thought and he turned toward the happy little menace with a glare.

It was perched on the very edge of the mansion's roof opposite of him on the West side of the building. It was small, less than 6 inches long with a tiny, blackish colored bill and an iridescent green head. Its belly was a pure, clean white and ended in a dark grey, forked tail.

Snarling, Kurt looked around for something to hurl at the bird, but found nothing.

It sang again – oblivious of the blue mutant's growing anger and malevolence. It was a pretty, high-pitched trill of whistles and twitters that echoed through the eaves and gables of the roof and made Kurt's head spin.

With his tail swishing violently behind him, the demonic-looking mutant dropped to all fours and sprang toward the wicked creature. He teleported at a run and landed just a few feet away, his hand raised high with the intent to strike and silence it permanently.

Startled by Kurt's unexpected appearance, the bird frantically tried to escape as the boy's hand crashed toward it. Right before the moment of impact, however, the sun suddenly caught in his eyes and temporarily blinded him, giving the small creature the chance it needed to escape.

Kurt turned away from the brief flash of sunlight and shielded his eyes, a frown upon his face.

Stupid bird. Lucky for it!

Glaring down at the empty spot it had just recently occupied, Kurt swallowed and tried not to gasp.

"Mein Gott…(my god)" he whispered as his eyes fell up five small white eggs within a delicate nest of twigs and feathers.

He backed away from the nest slowly as the mother bird circled above shrieking wildly, but was still too frightened to get close.

He had nearly killed…

His head shot up to the slightly setting sun as tears sprung to his eyes. Had the sun not blinded him…

He licked his lips and took a short, shaky breath before teleporting off the roof and back into his own room.

The sun. The SUN had saved the bird – saved them both really.

With a distinct air of determination, Kurt crossed the floor of his bedroom swiftly and pulled open the bottom drawer of his dresser, nearly yanking it out completely in his haste.

His hand was trembling as he reached down for the old, worn black Bible and accompanying rosary. His blue fingers grazed over the scored wooden beads and tarnished gold chain of the antique rosary as he gently picked it and the Bible up from their resting place.

He brushed the pads of his fingers over the golden cross of the rosary and traced the same pattern against the Bible as he walked quietly and solemnly to his window to sit on the rail in the slowly waning sunlight.

With his tail wrapped around the railing, he perched expertly on the narrow beam, then set the book on his knees with one hand over it while the other grasped the rosary and slowly ghosted over the beads. He gazed into the sky with the sun burning his retina's and swallowed hard. His throat was dry – too dry – and the leather Bible and wooden beads felt foreign in his hands, but he dropped his head regardless.

And he prayed.

"Ze Lord is my shepherd; I shall not vant…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I hope you enjoyed this one. Chapter 17 will likely be even longer with all the stuff I have planned for it.

Please, please, PLEASE review! My lifetime ASPIRATION is to have a story that has at least 500 reviews and we only have a few chapters left to go!

Drops to knees

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