Hey everyone!

Sorry for the long hiatus from writing. The last few months have been… well, I'm sure everyone has been feeling the tension, so no need for me to elaborate.
I wanted to get back into writing one-shots, and got inspired to write a missing scene in episode 3 of X-Men '97.

This fic is a very early birthday gift for roguegambit97 on X/Bsky.

Hope you all enjoy!

"Rogue, Wolverine, Beast; tend to our wounded," the authoritative voice of their new leader, Magneto, boomed. Gambit wasn't sure he would ever get used to his tone, "I will lead the others in a surgical strike."

As the others filtered out, heading to find Sinister's lair to rescue Nathan and… whoever that clone of Jean was, Remy watched as Hank and Logan handled the others. That is until he felt the soft brush of Rogue's soft leather-clad hand on his cheek, tilting his face to get a better look at his injuries.

Her voice sounded remorseful, highlighting her regret for not being there to help them during the hellish event, "You sure yer alright, sugah?"

He chuckled at her worry, knowing having her nearby already made him feel invincible, "No need t' fuss ov'a me, chère."

The bruise on his head and the scraps on his cheeks did little to convince her, "Could'a had me fooled."

"Tell you what…" he said casually under his breath to avoid being overheard by the others, "Spring me outta here, an' I let'cha play nurse as long as y' like, eh?" he teased with a charming wiggle of his brow, wincing only slightly at the pain.

Rogue couldn't hold back a short snort of a laugh, that smile of hers dazzling in an instant. "Alright, Dark Eyes, don't get ahead'a yerself," she rebuked him with that glimmer of joy in her eyes that was uniquely her own.

A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered that vision…

Rogue and Magneto… that cold, detached stare she'd thrown him…

"Get on back to the swamp with the rest of them nasty, thievin' critters…"

"—Remy?" she asked, stirring him from the memory abruptly. "Ya gonna promise ta take it easy if I getcha upstairs?"

The disturbing idea clouded his mood, unable to shake it from his memory as he replied, "Yeah… sure thing."

While Hank and Logan were distracted with their own patients, Rogue looped her arm around Remy's back and started walking him out of the Medbay.

He must have come off as oddly quiet because the whole walk up through the estate, they remained silent. To break the unsettling quiet, Rogue asked light-heartedly, "Wanna give a gal some idea of what was goin' on b'fore we showed up?"

Wracking his brain to figure out how to talk to her about what he'd seen became an ordeal, so he deflected and kept it vague, "Some creepy nightmare creatures is all. Jean's clone summoned every demon y' could imagine… an' worse."

"Sounds like y'all must've been scared outta yer wits," she commented.

He sighed, "Y have no idea…"

Getting him back to his room had been easy enough, and Remy was desperate for a long nap. He moved to take off his coat, starting to undress so he could get into bed, but his shoulder twitched uncomfortably as he hissed a bit.

Rogue was right there to help, easing the duster from his shoulders so he could let it slip off. She took hold of it and deliberately placed it on a chair in the corner of the room as carefully as though she were handling glass.

When she turned back, he realized he'd been staring, and she offered cheekily, "Need any more help?"

He smirked a little, realizing he did, in fact, need assistance, "M' armor…"

She nodded without hesitation, handling the snaps that kept his chest plate stable when fighting. Once that was open, it slipped off easily, and she carefully lifted it up and over his head, leaving him in his bodysuit and boots.

"Get undressed, and I'm gonna give ya a once over, just t' make sure there ain't no other injuries yer hiddin'."

He couldn't contain himself, "Ma chère, if this Cajun had known gettin' hurt was all it took fo' you t' ask, I'd have gotten my ass beat ages ago."

She laughed at his tease, turned away to head out of his bedroom so he could change, "As if you don't get beat on the regular. An' I swear, if I come back here an' you ain't dressed proper, I'm takin' yer bike fer a ride off a cliff."

"You wouldn't…" he dramatically gasped in disbelief that she would actually destroy a prized piece of automotive engineering like his Harley, especially given her love of cars and bikes.

She turned back as she reached for the door knob, saying sweet but tauntingly, "Try me, Swamp Rat. I dare ya…"

Shaking his head, he laughed at her threat as she closed the door behind her, leaving him to get changed into a loose pair of sweat pants and a tank top.

As he slid on his clothes, he tried his best to ease the worry and fear that the whole ordeal had put him through. Insecurity had never been a word many would associate with Remy LeBeau, but when it came to his past, he always worried that one day, it would all come back to bite him, and he'd lose the respect of the one person he had hoped could see past his failings.

Rogue's opinion of him meant everything. He could live with being called all kinds of names—two-bit thief, traitor to his kind, good for-nothing scoundrel, mutie trash, Le Diable Blanc of New Orleans—all of it, he could take all of that. But if Rogue didn't have faith in him… he wasn't sure he could ever recover from that.

Not more than a few minutes later, she knocked on the door, "Ya decent?"

"All good," he replied easily, moving to sit on his bed, groaning a little from the aches in his muscles.

She opened the door cautiously, clearly not trusting he wouldn't surprise her with his birthday suit, but when she confirmed he was in fact clothed, she came in with a small first aid kit from the bathroom down the hall, a fresh ice pack, and a bottle of his favorite bourbon, "Figured you'd appreciate a small night cap after all this commotion."

He sighed happily, taking the bottle as she offered it to him, "Merci beaucoup. Y' know jus' what a man needs."

He took a swig, enjoying the flavor, while she sat beside him and opened up the kit, taking out some cotton swabs, alcohol pads, and some creams to prevent infection, "Glad ya think so, 'cause I don't wanna hear ya be a baby 'bout what I'm gonna do next."

Before he could respond, Rogue playfully took his jaw in her hand, pulling him towards her, as she swiped an alcohol pad over his cheek. The sharp sting of the alcohol burned his open scratches, and he hissed at the shock of it. He chided her tauntingly, "Could be a li'l mo' delicate wit' me, Rogue!"

She could only giggle at his pain while she worked over his various cuts, taking note of the bruises as well, "Like you don't love the attention."

He scoffed at her quip but let her continue to work at his injuries, applying antiseptics to prevent them from getting infected before bandaging him up. They were mostly minor cuts, though he was more bruised than anything—the ice pack helped a little with those.

Regardless, it wasn't often Rogue was so willing to get physically close with someone, but this time, she seemed almost eager…

"I really am sorry, Remy… that I wasn't here…"

He shook his head, "Ain't yo' fault, chère. Couldna known what was gonna happen, an' besides… you was out on patrol. No reason fo' you t' feel guilty 'bout it."

She stayed quiet for a moment, like she was hesitating. Something wasn't being said, and Remy could feel it. That same sense of dread he had felt earlier…

"Right…" she breathed out, finishing with his bandages.

Content with her handiwork, Rogue asked, "Is there anythin' else ya need?"

Rolling his shoulders, he said, "Wouldn't mind some meds fo' the muscle pain."

She searched around in the first aid kit for a bottle of painkillers but found nothing, "Looks like whoever used this last didn't top 'em up. I'll run downstairs an' get some."

"I be alright. I'll live wit'out 'em," he brushed off.

"It's no trouble, sugah. I'll be back in two shakes," she insisted.

Before he could even tell her to stop, she was already standing from the bed and heading out of his room in a rush. The small smile that grew on his lips at her determination it was like he was experiencing whiplash.

"Get on back to the swamp with the rest of those nasty, thievin' critters, Remy. I found ma'self a real man… a hero…"

Pressing his thumb and forefinger into the hollows of his eyes, Remy attempted to suppress that nightmarish version of Rogue his own fears had conjured up, his body physically recoiling.

It felt silly to dwell on it so much, but something nagged at him…

"Remy?"

He hadn't even heard Rogue come back into the room as she kneeled in front of him, her hand on his knee, giving him a worried look as she asked, "You sure you don't want Hank ta take another look at ya?"

He minutely shook his head, though he didn't say anything, avoiding her gaze.

"Somethin' spooked ya real bad…. didn't it?" she pressed, worry lacing her voice.

Remy just placed his hand over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze before saying, "Jus'... some ghosts. Nothin' mo'..."

"You… wanna talk about it?" she asked.

"Mebbe t'morrow. Fo' now… I jus' wanna get some shut eye."

"O-okay," she nodded, clearly feeling a little embarrassed.

He could feel her hand withdraw from him, but he held it tight, not letting her go, as he barely breathed, "Stay…"

She looked taken aback by the request, like she didn't expect it.

"Please…?" he asked, his voice sounding more desperate than he would have liked it to, "Jus' fo' a bit…?"

She took hold of his hand in both of hers and replied soothingly, "Hey, I'm here. I'm right here… I ain't goin' anywhere."

A relieved sigh escaped his throat, feeling the warmth through Rogue's gloves on his hands.

"Listen…" Rogue started with a sigh, "I dunno what you saw, or… what happened. But whatever is eatin' at you… it's nothin' we can't handle."

She gave him a sympathetic smile—the same one that always made him believe he could move mountains.

He couldn't help the smirk, pulling her hand to his lips, saying gratefully, "Merci beaucoup, darlin'. Means the world t' me… t' hear you say that."

Her eyes lit up, and Remy knew she was his everything.

"Why don't you get settled, and I'll be right back. Just gonna go grab a shower an' a change a' clothes."

He reluctantly nodded, ""Kay."

She stood and helped Remy take the pain meds before letting him lie back to get some rest, "I'll be back soon."

She turned and left, leaving Remy to idly count the minutes before she returned, his body exhausted, yet his mind utterly restless.

Rogue quietly closed the door to her room, her hair freshly dried, and dressed in a full set of sweats, gloves, and socks, making sure her skin was thoroughly covered.

She started to make her way back to Remy's room, looking forward to spending the evening with him.

These last few days, ever since the attack at the UN, it felt like there had been a gap growing between them. It was a genuine surprise to her when Remy seemed so relieved to see her in the Medbay, and after seeing how rattled this whole thing got him, she felt guilty for not being there for him and the others. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen him look so… disturbed.

As she reached Remy's door, she heard someone call for her, "Rogue…"

Her hand stilled at the door knob, her head turning over her shoulder and seeing Magneto standing at the end of the hallway, "Erik?"

She flew toward him, seeing him looking worse for wear, "What happened?! Ya looking like ya've been run through a paper shredder."

He chuckled lightly, "It looks worse than it is, my dear. I must say… Jean's clone can be rather viscous as an opponent."

Rogue shook her head, "Are the others—?"

"They are fine. Though… young Nathan…"

Fearing the worst, she gasped, "No!"

"Hank is looking after him. Hopefully, he can help the poor boy."

"Oh… I feel awful fer Jean and Scott."

They fell into an awkward silence. Erik asked, offering his hand to her, "Perhaps… you could assist me to my quarters, and we can discuss the details…?"

Rogue hesitated, her eyes darting back to Remy's door, "I—"

"Is… something the matter?" he asked.

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, Erik. I promised somethin'—" her voice trailed off, thinking better of telling him, as she instead asked, "Maybe we can talk about it after the team gets debriefed t'morrow?"

She watched as Erik's eyes grew mournful, unsure she had ever seen him look so dejected before. However, he replied coldly, as if nothing had happened, "As you wish."

He stepped to her side and walked back to his own room as Rogue stood alone in the hallway, listening for his door softly clicking shut.

After a deep breath, she resolved herself and headed back to Remy's room. With quiet hands, she opened the door and floated back inside, closing the door just as softly in case Remy had already fallen asleep.

The side table lamp was still on, showing that while Remy was lying down, he was still on top of his comforter, like he hadn't intended on sleeping just yet. As she floated closer to him, she realized Remy was still awake, the unmistakable ruby red of his eyes following her as she moved.

"Thought maybe y'd gotten lost," he joked, his voice starting to have the tell-tale croak of exhaustion to it.

She smiled, her feet dropping to the floor and her body crouching down to meet Remy's eyes, tilting her head curiously, "Right… 'cause the route from yer room ta mine is so long."

Remy moved over in his bed, offering her space to join him, but she hesitated.

"I dunno…" she started to say, unease laced in her tone.

But, of course, Remy was always thinking two steps ahead. He smirked as he lifted up the bed sheet, suggesting, "This make it safer?"

She snorted a little, knowing the Cajun always had an idea up his sleeve, "Real clever, Swamp Rat."

"If it means havin' you near, chère… I do whatever it takes."

Feeling reassured, Rogue slipped under the sheet, facing away from him, and was quickly wrapped up by the warmth of the fabric, but also Remy's arms holding her through the sheets.

The bedding smelled so much like him—saturated with his unique mix of tobacco and spices—it was intoxicating.

"You sure yer alright with this?" she asked, "Not gonna get cold without yer share'a the blankets?"

The rumble from his chest against her back as he chuckled was enough to soothe her, "Fret none, mon cœur. Gambit ain't never been cold a day in his life. I be alright."

Putting her concerns at ease, she settled into the pillow and decided to just relish this feeling—the feeling that this would be as close as she could ever be with Remy LeBeau.

As she started to doze off, she thought she faintly heard him say, "Thank you…"

I hope you all enjoyed this!

If you did, please send a like/kudos/comment, it all helps motivate me to write more!

I already have a new fic idea brewing in my head (unsure if it'll be a one-shot or a new multi-chapter fic, but it will likely be set in the X-Men Evolution universe, so if that's your jam, keep an eye out for that in the future!

Until Next Time…