Is This Love...?
Part 11
Control
She vomited up all the alcohol she'd had at the party, right there into the nearest flowerbed. She wasn't sure if it was the stress from realising what had just happened, the abundance of alcohol she'd consumed all night or if it was seeing the last weak pulse of his ejaculate seeping from him when she'd glanced down to see the broken condom, but she lost her stomach right there next to him. She saw tons of that awful bright pink liquor spilling from her in wave upon wave and starting to seep into the soil below her.
Remy's hand patted her back lightly, she heard him tell her to just throw up as much as she could, that she'd feel better after. She wasn't convinced; her stomach hurt with each convulsion.
After the vomiting stopped, she knelt there on the grass trying to catch her breath. He tried to hold her, she heard him murmur something to her that she supposed was meant to be comforting but she couldn't allow that right now. She felt too overwhelmed and she pulled away from him, feeling clammy and dizzy, shaking a little.
"Chere..." he followed her as she got to her feet and started towards the gates. He took her wrist and stopped her, "Rogue," he said firmly, "where the hell are y' goin'?"
"To bed," was all she could manage, her voice now hoarse, her head was swimming.
"Don' y' think we shoul' discuss this?" he asked.
"Discuss what?! How you're apparently suicidal?!" she yanked her arm out from his hand and staggered a little, she threw her hands at his chest and knocked him back clumsily a little. Her hand was still throbbing from when she'd slapped him and she tried not to flinch after. She still felt drunk, even after throwing up so much of what she'd consumed it was still pulsing through her blood stream as much as her anxiety.
"I ain' suicidal," he gave a weak laugh, he caught her arms, "I didn' get hurt. Not one bit..."
"You could have been..." she awkwardly broke away, shuddering with fear. The thought of killing him was more than she could bear and she felt betrayed by him taking a risk like that.
"Don' y' wan' wonder why this time y' didn' absorb me?" he asked. "Y' absorbed me more than once before, it never failed before..."
She swallowed hard, trying to force back the taste of vomit in her mouth.
"Chere...ain' y' curious why now?"
She backed away from him, wiping her mouth on the back of her glove, she was so furious and tearful. For moments, she'd been the happiest she'd ever been, felt amazing, felt like things had been falling into place and then he'd almost taken it from her.
He could have been killed...died, she worried. Could have lost him...
He moved towards her and took her by the arms, "ain' it obvious?"
She averted her eyes from him, swallowing hard back the lump of emotion gathering in her throat.
"What was differen' about this time 'tween us?" he asked, giving her a pointed look. "Think..."
Rogue shook her head, she couldn't respond, she didn't think anything had been different.
He leaned close to her, his smoky, alcoholic breath tickled her nose, "no fear."
She finally raised her eyes to his.
"I watched y' the entire time...Y' weren' afraid t' let go o' that fear...y' took control, y' foun' y' confidence, y' faced y' fear o' bein' wit' me..." he pointed out, "Y' committed t' it...committed t' us...t' how good things felt...y' didn' give a secon' though' t' makin' sure we didn' activate y' powers..." he shook her gently. "Don' y' get it? It's y' fear that hol' y' back, not y' powers."
She pulled away from him, "No..."
"Yes," he took her by the hand and gently led her to the marble bench and made her sit down.
She swallowed again, trying to keep the lump in her throat from escaping. She was sure she might start sobbing if she didn't get a grip of herself. "How did you know...?" she asked timidly, staring down at her bare feet, her breath shakily escaping.
"I felt it," he admitted, he sat down at her side, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his packet of cigarettes and drew one out, putting it to his lips. "I fel' the difference the momen' it happened...I got...real sensitive all of a sudden..." he lifted his Zippo to the tip of the cigarette. "The secon' I knew what'd happened, I didn' wan' miss the chance t' kiss y'..." he smiled, "it was a gift..." he supposed.
Rogue felt her eyes brimming. "It was a fluke."
"If that was a fluke...it was a real convenien' one..." he exhaled a lungful of smoke into the air and he held the cigarette towards her. "Bes' fluke I ever had happen t' me, that's f' sure."
Rogue accepted the cigarette and she took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill her, soothe her. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on that feeling. She exhaled, trying to breathe out the tension with the smoke and attempting to swallow back her emotion as if it were a mouthful of glass, it didn't go down smoothly at all. She could still taste the vomit as well as the fear and anger.
"Y' realise this is the start o' it, righ'?" he asked as he took the cigarette back, "the start o' when we finally get t' be happy?"
She drew her breath.
"The fac' y' powers failed at that momen'...that means somethin'. It's a sign...your powers can be controlled...maybe they always coul' be an' y' jus' didn' know how t' push f' it."
She sniffled and dabbed at her left eye. She couldn't allow herself to believe that because if she accepted that as a fact, it meant that she'd already lost so much due to something that might have been within control the entire time. She didn't know how to properly process this information.
"What's wrong?" he asked of her, "why y' look so sad?" he drew on the cigarette again and gave it back to her.
"If Ah could always control it...if the way to stop it was always there then...then...that means...all these years..."
"Yeah?"
"That Ah've lost out on so much..."
His eyes locked to her, "like what?"
"Just...all the opportunities Ah could have taken and didn't get to..." she supposed, feeling quite sad.
He flicked the cigarette into the nearby pond, "What, like with Cyke y' mean?" he gave a grunt, sounding slightly irritated.
She rubbed her head, "Oh don't get like that," she muttered.
"Say what y' mean, chere. That was y' firs' though', righ'? That if y' had control then, maybe things woul'n' be how they is now. Y' be married t' him instead o' Jean..." he snorted.
"Remy..." she sighed.
"Be hones'..." he turned to look at her. "Am I jus' the one y' settled f' 'cause y' coul'n' be wit' the man y' really love?" he asked as he stood up.
She wanted to answer that it wasn't the case, that she hadn't thought of Scott in that way in months...perhaps most of the year, but somehow the words wouldn't rise from her throat. She was still so taken aback he would even think that after all that'd happened between them since Jean and Scott's wedding.
"Y' can't even answer..." he realised, he shook his head with a snort. She lifted her eyes; Remy rarely got angry but she saw it in his eyes right then, how temper had flared so quickly; he was controlling it but it was flickering within him. She heard it in his voice.
"Remy..." she tried again, feeling dizzy, still reeling over what had happened, nausea rising in her stomach and chest.
"F' get it..." he muttered. "Jesus, f' a minute there, I had our entire future flashin' 'fore me..." he scoffed, "meanwhile all you got flashin' in fron' o' you is the pas' y' never got t' have..." he started walking towards the gate. "This a los' cause. Shoul' have stayed exac'ly where I was, 'cause you ain' never gon' be ready t' move forwar', are y?"
She swallowed back the taste of vomit, she felt sick again. She wanted to speak and knew if she did she'd lose her stomach contents yet again.
"I'm startin' t' think y' revel in misery, chere. I think it's exac'ly where y' wan' be. You don' wan' be happy, y' wan' sit an' lamen' 'bout what y' don' have an' never had instead o' celebratin' what y' do...what y can..." he swung the gate open, "An' I'm done runnin' behin' y' like a lovesick pup waitin' f' y' t' take me home f' good," he left the garden, the gate swung shut loudly behind him, clattering in it's frame loudly.
Don't sit here. Chase him...he's chased you enough...
She got up unsteadily, swaying drunkenly, trying to keep her balance.
"Remy!" she called out, trying to breathe away the sickness.
She almost fell through the gate as she swung it open and she started for the direction he was walking in, running after him unsteadily, her stocking feet hurting on the path.
"Remy, wait!" she called to him.
He slowed to a stop, standing with his back to her, he said nothing, didn't turn to give her attention.
Back turned to me...not a good sign, she fretted as she drunkenly ran to catch up to him, moving in front of him. She felt so sick now, overwhelmed with emotion and dizziness as the alcohol from hours ago was still catching up to her despite she'd thrown most of everything up.
She went to speak, to try to tell him how she felt. But as she tried, a bubble of vomit rose in her throat and splattered onto his dress shirt and she staggered unsteadily on the path, the large gravel hurting, and she swayed as her foot shifted the stones. He caught her by the elbows, a sigh escaped his lips.
She couldn't even manage the word sorry as she lowered her head and another burst of vomit came forth, splattering down the front of her dress. She clung onto him as she finished with vomiting, hoping that surely no more could actually rise, shakily clutching his sleeves.
"Y' okay?" he asked of her.
It was pointless to lie, she realised, and so she shook her head, pursing her lips, her head swam and she fell forward into him, feeling ashamed and overwhelmed with emotion and humiliation.
With a soft sigh of defeat, Remy lifted her up, "c'mon, I get y' t' bed."
When she awakened, it was to the sight of the numbers on her alarm just turning to 1pm. Her head was thumping and she sat up, gasping, clutching her forehead. "Ohhhhh," she groaned.
The heat of the midday sun was spilling through the gap in the curtains and as she sat up, she felt the warmth of it cut across her skin. She gazed down, finding herself naked and shining with sweat from the heat in the room. She couldn't even remember getting undressed. The sight of one of her large grey bath towels hanging slightly from her laundry hamper told her that she'd bathed or showered.
She couldn't remember that either.
She rubbed her head and looked around the room, seeing signs of the aftermath of her getting ready for the party. Her hair tools on the dresser, makeup items scattered, her shoes were on the floor.
Ah lost them, she remembered. Ah lost one in the garden, kicked the other off...
She turned to look at the time again, and she found a bottle of water there, a packet of aspirin next to it.
Remy did all this, she realised. Washed me, put me to bed, brought my shoes from the driveway, she realised, feeling foolish.
She looked to the side of the bed that in Bloodmoon, Remy would have slept in. It was still relatively neat, the pillows pristine, not slept upon.
He didn't come to bed with me, she realised as she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. She supposed it'd been foolish to think he may have. God...Ah've really fucked things up...and it's my own damn fault this time.
After taking a few aspirin and then finishing the entire bottle of water in one, long drink, she lay back down in bed for a while and tried to nurse the hangover. There was no nausea today, so for that she was thankful, however she felt achy, her feet were blistered, her calves burned from dancing in shoes that weren't designed for dancing in, and her head was throbbing.
It was at least a few hours before she felt well enough to get out of the bed. She didn't have the energy to properly dress yet, so she pulled a robe on, put some gloves on and headed down to the kitchen, hoping there'd be coffee on the go.
The kitchen was empty except for one person sitting at the table. Remy.
He seemed dull, sleepy, unshaven, his face a little greyer than usual. She was sure he was feeling a little hungover himself although nowhere near as bad as she was.
"Hey..." she said quietly as she approached the table and sank into the chair cornerwise to him. The moment her backside hit the chair, Remy slowly got up without a word and moved over to the counters behind her. She stared at the table top.
Wow, he didn't even say anythin', she fretted as she picked at a loose thread on her left glove. He's really pissed...this feels worse than it did on after Christmas...
She was almost on the verge of trying to speak up, to try and get the conversation rolling somehow, when a clunk at her right made her jump, and she looked to see he'd placed a mug of black coffee on the table next to her hand. He took his seat again, his eyes dropping to the table top, his hand reached out and pulled a salt shaker towards him and he twirled it around in his fingers idly.
"Thanks for...takin' care of me last night," she said quietly as she picked up the mug of coffee he had brought her and she took a sip. It was incredibly bitter, but she forced herself to tolerate it all the same.
Remy spilled a salt onto the table, and he tapped his finger against the grains lightly; Rogue watched the grains lighting up with kinetic energy, watched them pop into nothing. The display of how delicately he charged the grains without passing it to the table impressed her.
He poured more salt, then idly ran his index finger through it, drawing a pattern. She realised he was idling, avoiding really talking at all. He was never like this...he was always the one to speak first.
Biting down on her lip, she reached her left hand to stop his right from playing with the salt on the table, curling her fingers around the outside of his palm. He stopped moving, his eyes moving down to their joined hands.
Come on, just be honest, sugar, she told herself.
"Ah...was really drunk last night," she said, sounding weak and shameful.
Remy finally gave a grunt, but that was all.
"Remy..." she started, she swallowed the lump in her throat, "when Ah talked about what Ah missed out on-"
"Don'," he pulled his hand away from hers, and started playing with the salt again.
"Before you came here, you had your life...you had a ton of experiences Ah never got to have...Ah saw them in your head when Ah've touched you before...at least...flashes of them..."
He turned to look at her, his expression hurt.
"And...Ah've never begrudged you that," she added. "It was before me...before us."
He didn't speak, he let out another soft sigh, his expression clouded.
"Ah never got that. Never got to have anythin' close to that. Ah wasn't able to go somewhere without havin' to make risk assessments in case someone gets hurt by my powers..." she looked down at the table, "Ah never got the dates...never got the boyfriend, the prom, the first real dance, the first kiss..." she shook her head. "Ah missed out on bein' a teenager...Ah got roped into fights Ah never should have been part of while girls my age were goin' to the movies with their beaus..." she picked at the loose thread on her glove again, her shoulders felt tense. "If my powers were always within reach of control...then...Ah failed in tryin' to control them, Ah lost out on havin' those things. Ah didn't get to experience anythin' Ah used to dream about..." she pursed her lips, feeling emotion creeping up behind her eyes. "It's..." she drew a deep breath, "Ah think it's why I'm strugglin' with you so much..."
She felt him observing her.
"Ah've never had someone...Ah missed out on the years Ah should have been learnin' how to start bein' with someone that way...and...now Ah don't know how to be with you..."
"I never expected y' t' know how t' navigate this," he confessed with a sigh, "I also never expected y' woul' jus' keep runnin' from me every time things started t' get good..."
"Better to leave the game before you lose all your chips than to put everythin' down to end up gettin' busted out..." she remarked.
He seemed impressed, "that was a poker analogy."
"Yeah," she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, "thought Ah'd put it in a way you might understand..."
"What makes y' think y' gon' get busted out? Maybe y' two han's away from a royal flush..."
"People like me don't win like that," she sighed, she downed the bitter black coffee, grimacing at the flavour.
"Las' nigh' fel' like a win," he spoke up. "Las' nigh' was a full house. Leas' it was t' me..." he straightened his posture, "gettin' t' kiss you...somethin' I been waitin' f' since the momen' we firs' met felt like fireworks t' me..." he explained, "wasn' it for you?"
"No. It was pure panic! It was...fear...anxiety...Ah was scared Ah'd hurt you..." she confessed uneasily, "Ah didn't get a chance to feel it. All Ah could think of was savin' you..."
"I didn' need savin'..."
"Ah didn't understand what was happenin'..." she pointed out.
"Now that you do...don' y' think we need t' be explorin' that instead o' fightin'...?"
"What if Ah hurt you? What if Ah really hurt you, Remy?" she swallowed a lump of emotion building in her throat. "If somethin' happened to you..."
He put his hand upon her shoulder and squeezed tenderly, "I ain' scared o' what your powers do, I never have been. From day one I made that clear..."
She felt the anxiety of the words jumping up and down in her chest as she looked into his intense eyes and saw there was no fear in him.
He reached out with his bare fingers and made a move to touch her cheek, she flinched away, the feet of the chair scraping loudly on the floor, she almost toppled. "Don't," he warned him, she got up.
"Don' y' trus' me?"
"Ah don't trust myself," she stammered, and she moved away from the table, turning her back to him. She stood at the counter, leaning against it, gazing down at the shining granite top. She heard his movement behind her, felt his hands on her shoulders.
"I trus' you," He said softly near her ear, giving her a soft shake, "I more than trus' y'-"
"Gambit, got a minute?"
The interruption of Scott Summer's voice caught Rogue by surprise and she turned to the door to see him standing there in full uniform, his face as grim as usual. She saw the way he was observing them, and even though she couldn't see Scott's eyes, she was sure they'd be squinting a little.
"Yeah, mon ami, in a minute..."
"Now," Scott said.
Rogue looked between them, "Ah'm...gonna go get dressed," she sighed, "Ah...have to go somewhere."
She passed by Scott, feeling a strange tension lingering in the air as she did, and it made her stop once she'd passed the threshold. She went to turn down the hall to get to the foyer stairs but she stopped, turned back and paused to listen by the side of the door out of their sight.
"What is it?" Remy asked with a sigh.
Scott sighed, "It's about you...and Rogue."
"Oh?" Remy sounded amused. Rogue recognised the slight shift in Remy's stance, she knew the sound of how he stood, how he moved, it was odd how sometimes she'd never realised that until that moment right then.
"I think it might be a good idea if you switch from Rogue's team to mine."
"What?" Remy asked, sounding confused.
What?! Rogue blinked.
"I just think..." continued Scott, "that it would be better for you to not spend every waking hour together given the past and-"
"The past?" Remy asked, sounding confident and up front. "What about the past, mon ami?"
"The last time you dragged Rogue off to wherever you're from, since she came back she's been withdrawn, quiet..."
"Y' sure y' even know my chere?" Remy laughed strangely. "She always been that way..."
"Not like this, Gambit. Whatever you did to her, whatever happened between you after Christmas...it broke her. She's never been the same. She's not been herself. But how can I expect you to know that. You barely know her at all."
Remy gave a snort of contempt, "maybe that ain' my faul'."
"Pardon?"
"I said maybe that ain' my faul'," Remy said, more loudly this time. "Y' wan' me t' write it on a posterboard f' y'?"
Rogue sighed inwardly. Remy was starting to sound insolent and that wasn't good. Remy barely ever got confrontational, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him fully confrontational in all the time she'd known him. Was it finally going to happen?
"Gambit," Scott warned.
"Maybe it's you that don' know Rogue at all, non?" Remy asked, sounding bitter. "In fac', I'm positive it is you that don' know her. If y' knew her, if y' had eyes that worked beyon' that visor, y' maybe be able t' pick up on what's really goin' on."
"What is that meant to mean?" Scott demanded.
"Ask Wolverine."
"What has Wolverine got to do with it?" Scott asked, sounding impatient.
"Why y' think I came back here, mon ami? He tol' me t' come back. He know what goin' on, always has. Ain' no foolin' him. Not like you wit' y' head up y' goddamn ass tryin' t' preten' you don' see what's righ' in fron' o' you too."
Rogue chewed the inside of her cheek listening to the two men argue, her heart thrumming nervously in her chest, her stomach churning.
"What is that supposed to mean?" demanded Scott, sounding very impatient now.
"Me an' Rogue been on an' off f' mont's, deeper than jus' what you see on the outside. But it don' work, because she's still infatuated wit' you!"
Rogue heard a sudden loud smash and she jumped from the wall, she gazed slightly around the corner and into the open kitchen door, she saw coffee and glass all over the floor, he'd thrown the coffee pot clear across the room.
"Gambit, what the hell?!" Scott demanded.
"Y' really gon' preten' y' didn' hear what I jus' say?" Remy asked with a scoff. "No surprise, y' did the same thing wit' Rogue. She tried t' tell y' when she was jus' a lovesick pup an' y' played none-the-wiser. She wasn' Jean so y' wasn' interested. I don' know why now y' actin' like y' give a fuck 'bout her, y' never did before."
Scott seemed to stammer for a moment, then responded, "I've always cared about Rogue...I was the first to push for her to be recruited..."
"An' she fell f' y'. She never got over you. She can't move on wit' me 'cause she's still hurtin' over what she didn' get t' have wit' you!"
Rogue heard a sound that seemed like it was a scuffle, and she realised she had to stop it from becoming anything worse. If Remy did something stupid, she was certain he'd get himself kicked out. She quickly moved to the door trying to remember acting classes from high school to push herself to seem innocent and none the wiser about what she'd overheard.
"Remy, do you think you're sober enough today to dri-" Rogue started, walking in to the kitchen to find Remy had Scott pinned to the fridge by the throat, his forearm pressed hard. Scott was still, the exposed lower half of his face betrayed his fury.
At the sound of her voice, Remy immediately let go of Scott. "Chere..." he looked at her, his expression immediately guilty.
Rogue swallowed hard, tried to fight back her nerves and anxiety, "what's...goin' on?"
"Nothing," both men responded, Scott gave a clear of his throat and straightened up. Remy moved backwards from Scott, his posture uneasy. It was clear to her he didn't like being caught like this, that he didn't want her seeing him losing his temper.
"Somethin' y' need?"
She moved between the two men to ensure they wouldn't get into any more physical altercations, "Ah need a ride to town..." she responded. "Ah'm...not in the best way to drive right now. You...didn't drink that much last night...can you...?"
"'Course, I'll take y' anywhere y' wan' go," Remy responded, his voice slightly thick. "Always..." he added.
Rogue hovered between the two men, standing awkward. Ah can't believe that just happened! Remy never gets like this. How hurt is he?
"When y' need me t' take y'?" Remy asked, he took a breath and sighed.
"Soon as possible...got somethin' to take care of."
"Okay..." he said quietly, seeming slightly confused, "Sure...I take you."
"Can you smoke your cigarette before we leave? Ah'm kinda sick today, Ah think the smell might make me more sick if you smoke on the drive, and Ah don't want to hurl in the van."
"Sure, chere..." he nodded. "Anythin' y' wan'."
Rogue looked at him pointedly, trying to convey with a single glance she wanted him to go and smoke now, she had to get rid of him so she could warn Scott off.
He gave a sigh and silently agreed, removing his cigarette packet from the pocket of his jeans. As he started to go past her, she caught his empty left hand and she looked right at him, trying to convey more to him than she normally did with a single glance. She squeezed his fingers, forcing a soft smile, trying to shake off the critical way she knew Scott was likely looking at them both.
Remy gave a very small nod to her, squeezed her hand back gently, then he left the kitchen, putting a cigarette to his lips as he walked.
Once she was sure he'd gone, she turned to look at Scott who definitely didn't seem pleased with the exchange.
"His attitude-" Scott began to say.
"His attitude is my problem, not yours," she immediately snapped, then took a moment to calm herself, "He's not the one who deserves the criticism," she stated coolly. "He's on my team and he stays on my team. End of discussion," she threw a look at him, and with that, she left him in the kitchen to pick up the pieces of the broken coffee pot.
The ride in the van was making her feel more sick than she had anticipated it might. She let her throbbing head rest upon her hand, elbow propped on the door, watching the afternoon traffic slowly going by. The road from the Xavier estate to Bayville was always hectic at this time of day and she'd not thought this over...she'd not been keeping proper track of time, forgotten when she'd awakened it hadn't been the morning.
"How y' hol'in' up?" Remy asked, his arm outstretched on the driver's door, the right hand fingers drumming absently on the wheel, which wasn't making her headache any better.
"Stop..." she reached out and stopped his fingers banging on the wheel.
He turned to look at her, "Sorry...didn'...realise..." he admitted.
"My head is poundin'," she spoke up, she rubbed her forehead, "It's not really let up much since Ah woke."
"I'm not surprised. Las' nigh' y' drank a lot. Y' was a fair three sheets t' the win' before I even got t' the party..." he smirked a little.
Rogue sighed.
"Y' ain' good at holdin' y' liquor," he gave a soft chuckle.
She shook her head in disgrace at his teasing and turned to look out the passengers window, she felt the heat of the afternoon sun blazing down on the right side of her face. "Ah'm never drinkin' again," she decided, feeling that this illness afterwards just wasn't worth the buzz of alcohol.
"Where am I takin' y'?" he asked.
"Drug store."
"Drug store?" he moved the van on a few feet as the traffic moved a little. "What y' need at the drug store that we don' have in the impressive pharmacy down in the Sickbay?" he asked, he slouched in the driver's seat a little.
Rogue stared down at the dash.
"Chere?"
"Mornin' after pill."
She felt Remy turn to look at her. "Oh..."
"Ah know that there's some in the Sickbay but...Ah don't want to have to ask...have people realise...know..."
Remy gave a weak nod, seeming to understand why she wouldn't want to have to ask and have it registered that she'd asked for that.
"Ah can't...Ah mean...we...can't risk somethin' like that..."
He gave something of a sigh, "I suppose."
She turned to look at him, he was focused on the road again, his expression troubled, "you suppose?"
"I jus'...I don' know. T' be hones'...I didn' expec' t' be havin' this conversation," he confessed, sounding almost adorably awkward despite the situation, "leas' not righ' this momen'. I mean...I used t' overthink an' imagine we'd talk about it some day but..."
Rogue stared at him, trying to absorb what he was saying, "You...want kids?" she asked, feeling slightly surprised. Their first trip to Bloodmoon, he'd given the indication he wasn't interested in that at all.
"I...don' know. Maybe?"
"Ah thought...you said you weren't into that idea..." she swallowed hard.
"I...wasn'...but...things change, y' know? Does...that mean you don'?"
"Ah don't even know if Ah can," she rubbed her head with a sigh. "My powers are dangerous to full grown adults, what you think they'd do to a baby?"
"What about future...when y' get control?" he asked.
"Ah'm...not entirely sure. Ah'm not sure Ah ever will have control..."
"Las' nigh' prove that y' gon' be able t' get control some day...an' when that happens, we're gon' have more...options."
"Ah haven't even...thought that far ahead..." she confessed, "didn't...think Ah had to."
He shook his head at her, "ain' y' got any hopes f' the future?"
"Ah never figured Ah had the choice of a future."
"Everyone has a choice, cherie."
Rogue sighed, "What did you think was gonna happen? When you were overthinkin' and imaginin' what our future was gonna be?"
He gripped the wheel, staring into space, his mouth pursed for a moment as he thought about this. "Happiness...bein' t'gether...wit' out bein' quiet 'bout it, neither."
She observed him.
"Don' y' want happiness?"
"Everyone wants happiness, Remy," she responded.
"Wasn' what I asked. I'm not askin' 'bout everyone. I'm askin' bout you. What you wan'..."
"Yes...Ah want happiness..." she confessed.
"Then why are we not properly t'gether?" he asked. "Y' gon' preten' like what we had in Bloodmoon didn' work? That we wasn' the closes' we ever been?"
"Yeah...but-"
"Las' nigh'...that was fireworks, chere. I've never felt anythin' so good...so righ'. Not jus' 'cause o' how it ended, 'but the anticipation I've had f' mont's since y' lef' me, the achin' t' jus' even hol' y'..." he pulled the van forward a little more, "las' nigh' was the mos' excitin' nigh' I've had wit' a woman."
"Ah find that hard to believe," she mumbled, considering all the hickeys and scratches she'd seen on him in January.
"Believe what y' wan'. I know what I feel."
Rogue chewed the inside of her cheek.
"It's within our fingertips, chere. An' I'm not foolin' myself int' believin' it won' be a tough path, that there ain' gon' be a lot o' work t' get y' t' that control...but...I'll be there a hun'red percen' o' the way."
"What if it takes years, Remy?" she asked softly.
"Does it matter if it does?" he responded, sounding sincere. "Way things are now, s' been more than enough t' sate me. I'd love t' be able t' hol' y' bare hands, touch y' face...kiss y'...shower wit' y'..." he reached out and took her left hand, "be wit' y'...wit' out a single shred o' fabric or latex 'tween us..." he confessed, "but if what we have now is as far as it can go...will ever go..." he squeezed her gloved fingers, "s' enough f' me."
"Remy..." she shook her head.
"I love you," he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her fingers.
She was speechless to hear the words, not sure if it was that she'd never really expected them or that it Belle's warning that Remy LeBeau never used those words and never would. She tried to speak but couldn't form a sentence, and then, just as she opened her mouth to try and respond, she felt nausea burn her throat. She yanked her seatbelt off quickly and threw the door open, nearly falling out of the van as she scrambled to get out and run to the side of the road to vomit.
Her throat burned with it, as if it were hot acid bursting forth. She held onto the trunk of a fir tree, trembling as her body convulsed and retched so intensely that she felt her lose control of her bladder at the same time.
Fuck, she thought in distress.
"Chere..."
She felt Remy's hands grab her shoulders, steadying her.
"Y' okay?"
It was pointless to even try and lie about it; he wouldn't believe anything like 'I'm fine' when she had vomited up so much and lost control of her bladder so badly.
She gave a weak shake of her head, trembling a little.
"S' jus' a hangover...s' gon' be oka—oh..." he seemed to have realised that she'd peed herself, she wasn't sure how obvious it was through the dark grey leggings she'd chosen to wear that day but he'd realised it. She heard him moving behind her and felt something being pulled around her waist. She looked down, seeing the deep red of his thin long sleeved shirt being tied at her midriff.
It was humiliating.
"Y' done pukin'?" He asked gently, moving to examine her, she felt his hand brush her hair away gently from her clammy forehead with his gloved hands. She realised he'd been carrying those gloves with him...again. He'd come prepared...he always did.
She tried to respond but it happened again and she felt more urine escaping, running warm down her legs.
"S' okay..." he rubbed her back, "take all the time y' need..."
Rogue doubted she had all the time she needed when she could hear traffic horns going wild behind her because Remy had left the van and the traffic ahead had started moving.
"The van..." she managed between small retches. "Traffic..."
"They can drive aroun' it..." he squeezed her shoulders.
"If the traffic cops come-" she managed, trying to catch her breath, she wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve, seeing smears of vomit.
"I don' care, I'll talk my way out o' it, I'll fix it, whatever. You're more importan' than Bayville traffic pigs," he stroked her hair.
She leaned forward and hurled again, almost lurching forward on the uneven ground.
Remy kept a tight hold of her to keep her up, "Y' shoul' have let me go t' the drug store for y'," he said, "if y' had tol' me what y' wanted, I'd have run there and got it for y' while you rested in bed..."
She turned to look at him, her eyes stinging with sweat, "really?"
"I'd do anythin' f' you..." He said softly.
She sank down to sit on a rock by the road, rubbing her sweaty face, feeling terrible, she tried to breathe out her nausea, still hearing the cars honking on the road.
"How y' feel?" he asked, moving over and kneeling down to examine her, he pushed her hair out of her face, "Y' ain' lookin' so hot."
"Ah think it's over now," she sniffed, "Ah don' think there's anythin' left to hurl."
He gave a chuckle, "mus' be a worl' record. Maybe that's a secondary mutant power o' yours. Like toad, non?"
"Ugh, don't make me think of him, Ah'll vomit again."
Remy laughed, "c'mon," he drew her to her feet, "Le's get y' home, chere."
"Ah need to-"
"Y' need res'. Y' ain' well," he pulled her along with him, his arm behind her. "Come, I get y' t' bed."
"Ah bet you say that to all the girls," she muttered, leaning into him, feeling exhausted and ill.
"Mmm, but I only ever keep returnin' t' you, chere. C'mon, le's go."
End of Part 11
