Chapter 16

Rogue and her companions stood right in the middle of what used to be the lively Genosha square. Her gaze was drifting over her surroundings while she thought of the day she had been there with Remy and Kurt. Just a few hours before her whole world came crumbling down on her.

It felt like a whole lifetime ago, she stole a glance at Remy and thought how he watched that afternoon. She could tell that he was happy for the simple fact that she was happy. That place had been alive with color and sound and her heart was exploding with joy, filled with hope. She could close her eyes for one second and the laughter of festival-goers, the scent of sweet and savory foods hanging in the air, the distant clatter of carnival games and cheerful shouts of victory would come back to life in her mind. The energy of the square had been infectious back then, a rare moment of joy in a world so often divided.

Now, that joy was long gone. The silence felt heavy; it was somehow deafening. Crumbling stalls stood abandoned, banners torn and faded, their bright colors dulled by time, ashes and dust. The air smelled like despair and tragedy. She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to pull away from the memories. There was no time to dwell on any of that. The fight wasn't over.

As Madelyne, Jean, and Rogue dusted themselves off, preparing both physically and mentally for yet another battle, Remy remained still a moment longer than expected. He sat on the ground, his elbows resting on his knees, his face buried in his hands. His brows furrowed in confusion. He wanted to get up, and follow the ladies, prepare to go back into the tower. But no matter how hard he commanded his body to move, it simply wouldn't obey. He couldn't bear the thought of voluntarily going in there again after spending so much time trapped in it. Six months had elapsed since he was trapped in the tower and in himself. Finally, he was out, but he was unsure if deep down he would ever be the same.

Noticing his sudden aloofness; especially after he had just been his usual mischievous self, cracking jokes just moments earlier, Rogue grew concerned. She bent down, touched his chin lovingly, leveling her eyes with his. His beautiful eyes, two drops of blood in a sea of dark stared back at her, and it brought her momentary relief. At least it was him, still him, she could tell the difference so easily. Being in his presence, looking into his eyes, brought her peace and she would never take that for granted. It was her beloved Remy staring back at her, not Death.

"Are you okay, sugar?" she asked him gently.

As he held her gaze, shame consumed him. It all came back to him like a whirlwind inside his brain. The pain, the shouts, the tortured look she had given Death. His mind was invaded by memories he wished he did not have.

"No, sugar, please. Please, don't!"

Her desperate plea echoed inside his head. Death had positioned his cock to enter her from behind, and he could tell by her reaction that it was something she was not used to. She was uncomfortable with the idea of it and scared. Yet, instead of heeding her request, the monster inside of him had forced himself inside her yet again. That time, in a way she had never experienced before. He couldn't see her face, but could hear the shaky inhale, the quiet sniff as she tried to hold herself together.

It broke him that he knew exactly what Death had done to her. He would have preferred to be forgotten, half dead inside the lab tank where Sinister left him than having to see what he saw, have his own body perform atrocities without being able to stop it. But he had no luck, Death made him do terrible things and watch them unfolding. Stuck in between the surface of consciousness, he could not gain control of his actions, but he could see it all happen. He was there, for most of the time, unable to save her from that predicament, bearing witness to all of it, and getting a secondhand feel of the pleasure Death was getting.

Rogue had willingly given herself to Death, surrendering her body to him thinking that their lovemaking would evoke deep emotions and give Remy some leverage. Naively she thought that she would be able to set him free that way. But she couldn't have been further away from the truth. The more he saw how badly Death treated her, the more he would retract inside himself, deeper he would hide inside his shell.

He saw his own hands slapping her, punching her, abusing her. Death would close his fist around her beautiful hair, yanking her back by the silken strands, using her like a lifeless doll, fucking her over and over again. The memory made him sick to his stomach. A wave of nausea rolled over him. He was disgusted with himself.

"Come on, hun. Grab my hand," Rogue encouraged, oblivious to all the things going on inside his mind. She stretched her hand out to him, offering support. She couldn't even begin to imagine the type of thoughts that were consuming him at that very moment.

He took a deep breath and accepted her offer, but the moment he was on his feet, he wobbled like a newborn deer, looking dangerously close to passing out.

"Oh no, love, you are not pulling a Jean on me!" Rogue teased, quickly grabbing him before he could hit the ground.

"Seriously, Rogue? I'm right here! I just saved your man for crying out loud," Jean huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Watching that scene, Madelyne couldn't suppress an amused chuckle. It made Jean roll her eyes at her exact copy.

"Sorry, couldn't resist the inevitable joke," Rogue replied, winking at her friend.

""Cute," she said, tilting her head toward Rogue. "But let's not pretend we have time to joke around." Her gaze flickered back to Jean, and she meant business. "You know they need us, you. Scott... and the others, they're fighting for their lives while we are here. I'm glad we worked our magic on everyone's favorite Cajun, but now it's time to go," Maddie commanded assertively. She stepped closer to Jean and whispered in her ear, "So go, Red. Save your knight in shining ruby quartz and the rest of them."

"Mine? Not so sure about it anymore," Jean said pensively.

There was no need to have psychic powers to sense the animosity between the two red-haired women whenever Scott's name came up. Rogue decided to step in to keep things from escalating. when Scott's name came into play.

"Ladies, really, thank you so very much for all you have done for me, for Remy. But now, I think you two should go," Rogue said. "As much as I want to join you and help, I guess I'll stay here with Remy. Bringing him back must have been a lot for his mind to handle. He probably just needs a moment", she paused, gently caressing his face, her eyes scanning his for reassurance, he stared back at her, eyes vacant. "Right? He'll be okay, won't he?"

"He will," Madelyne assured her, patting Rogue's arm. "What we had to do to him… it's only natural that it's taken its toll."

"To be very honest with you, I was quite impressed he seemed so well at first. I believe he'll need plenty of rest and some therapy to properly recover once we're back home," Jean added.

For a fleeting moment, they all fell silent, each of them wondering if the place they called home was even still standing.

"Chère, I'll live," Remy finally snapped out of the trance he was in, saying the words in a barely-there voice. "Go with them. They'll probably need all the help they can get," Remy reasoned. "God knows our boy Scott needs saving too," he said, trying to make light of the situation.

"No! I'm never leaving you ever again," she replied, raising her voice in exasperation. "You hear me, Remy LeBeau? Never! I ain't never leaving you again," she repeated the promise, as if she was talking more to herself than to him. A silent tear rolled down her face. Would she ever get cured from all the guilt she carried inside her heart?

Those two would need more than just a moment to find their happy common place again, Jean thought to herself. Without any hesitation or explanations, she decided not to waste any more time waiting for Rogue and Remy. They were broken, too emotionally fragile, as she now knew. What went down during her absence, when Apocalypse had the two of them meet again, it hadn't been pretty. Not the reunion she had wished for them at all. They needed to be left alone; the Goblin Queen and herself would have to be enough help.

Jean summoned the Phoenix Force, and flames erupted around her, swirling like a living entity. Rogue and Remy watched her in awe, she was a vision to behold. It was virtually impossible to look away. With a single thought, she lifted Madelyne into the air, wrapping her in fiery wings as they soared above the ruins of Genosha. The wind rushed past them, carrying the distant sounds of battle: the clash of metal, the crackle of energy blasts, the unmistakable roars and shouts of warriors locked in combat.

Their destination, the Genosha Tower, was not that far from where they were. It took them little to no time at all to find themselves stepping again on the skeletal remains still standing amidst the massive destruction. They were quick to find the familiar figures of their friends locked in battle with Apocalypse. Scott had his visor flashing with relentless optic blasts while Beast was moving with calculated precision, striking with both intellect and brute strength. Kurt kept teleporting in bursts of smoke and sulfur, striking from the shadows. And Wolverine was all claws and fury, cutting through the chaos with unwavering determination.

They seemed to have the situation in control. Apocalypse, for all his power, was faltering under their combined assault. But Jean knew better than to underestimate the oldest mutant known to mankind. Victory was never so easily claimed. Tightening her hold on the Phoenix Force, she and Madelyne pushed forward, the combination of their powers striking him and they joined the fight.
"It was about time!" Scott exclaimed.

Just as they descended, a final, devastating strike from Scott, Jean and Maddie sent Apocalypse staggering. The ancient mutant let out a furious snarl, his form flickering in the dim light. He was weakened, his once-unshakable presence now faltering beneath the sheer force of their combined power. With one last glare, his body began to dissolve into shadows, retreating into the void before he could be struck down completely.

"You are not worth of my time," he declared solemnly. "My work hasn't finished. This world needs to be purified. You are all unworthy, so simple, worried about your own petty insignificant self doubts and issues. We shall meet again, but at this time, it's not like I need help to exterminate the X-Men. It's a work in progress, if not me, then, all the human world will do the deed. There's no rest for the wicked," he warned them before disappearing into thin air, leaving all the mutants present confused. A deafening silence followed his departure, the air still crackling with his residual energy. He was gone, for the time being, it seemed.

The group who had just emerged out of a battlefield somewhat victorious moved cautiously through the ruined tower, trying to find a way out and access the damage and looking for possible survivors. They walked together in silence, some glances were secretly exchanged, some people were being watched, and judged. Still, they were united in the same purpose. They had questions to answer.

Who knew if Apocalypse had any more bodies in tanks being transformed for his personal army? Did Death get to fulfill his sole purpose, bring an end to the lives of the so-called unworthy? Was Apocalypse truly gone? Their footsteps echoed in the eerie silence. Kurt would sometimes look at Magneto guardedly, one could see the disgust and distrust in the way his eyes observed the old man. The master of magnetism, in return, avoided not only Kurt's but everyone's eyes. Now that the truth was out, he felt the weight of their judgement, about what he did to Rogue, about what he did to Logan, and most importantly, how he singlehandedly had threatened all existing life on Earth.

As they made their way out, they found scattered across the wreckage the corpses of the Marauders. The ruthless mercenaries had clearly been brought to the place to be slaughtered. Ironically, that's what they used to do to others, what they had doneto the Morlocks. Whatever fate had served them, they deserved it for they had mercilessly killed many innocent mutants. It was quite fitting that they too had met a violent end. Unlike the Genoshans, whose deaths spoke of panic and desperation, the Marauders had been executed with precise, merciless efficiency.

Their bodies lay twisted, hands clutching at their throats, expressions locked in silent agony. There were no visible wounds, only the telltale discoloration of poisoned flesh. The air around them still carried a faint, acrid scent. This wasn't the result of battle. This was execution. A heavy sense of unease settled over the team, and they all stole glances at one another, but no one said a word. One didn't need to be said anyway. The writing was on the wall. It was all very clear, as they had all watched that kind of power in action. Those criminals had been victims of no one other than Death. And Death was Remy LeBeau, or what was left of him.

"Death is gone," Maddie said simply, answering the unspoken question hanging in the air. "We were able to bring Gambit back and imprison the Death persona, hopefully for good."

"Oh," Magneto gasped at the as he might, he couldn't hide his surprise. He probably had imagined, and wished, that Remy LeBeau was gone for good.

"Does he know what Death did while he was imprisoned inside his own body? I can only imagine that would be very distressful to him," Xavier asked curiously.

"I don't know to what extent, but when I was working in his brain, I saw some memories. He did see some of the things Death did, not all of it, but the things that impacted him the most Death made sure that he would see. He was in a dormant stage, like a prisoner behind bars, he couldn't control his actions."

"I bet it was Remy himself who kicked Magneto's ass just earlier, though," Kurt commented, not bothering to watch his words in front of the man who had just gotten his ass handed to him. "And it was very well deserved."

The X-Men exchanged wary glances but kept their thoughts to themselves. The team was in such a fragile state, so much animosity in the air. Xavier couldn't help but think of all the things Death, or Remy, he couldn't be so sure it hadn't been him, told him earlier that day. He was right and he knew it. Most of what had happened was his fault, caused by his negligence. He owned to his team, his beloved X-Men to repair all the damage he had caused. He knew it was almost an impossible task, but he had to do better. Nothing would ever be the same, of that much, he was sure. But they could support each other and heal together. Without another word, the group was silent, each of them lost in similar thoughts, weighing in their portion of guilt and shame in what had happened. In almost absolute silence theymade their way out, only the sound of their footsteps could be heard echoing through the hollow, ruined structure.

Outside, Genosha was nothing but a graveyard of shattered stone and twisted metal. No signs of life remained. What had once been a thriving nation was now a wasteland of dust and ash. The market square, once filled with voices and movement, was now just another ruin among many others. It was silent, lifeless, broken.

And yet, amid the devastation, two figures in the distance stood waiting. As the X-Men drew closer, the shapes became clearer. They were Rogue and Gambit, sitting together on the cold, cracked ground, surrounded by the ruins of what had once been a thriving city.

Remy was slumped against Rogue, his head resting against her chest, his body unnaturally still. Rogue held him close, one hand gently combing through his hair in slow, soothing strokes. It seemed she could touch him, and those were news to some of the people who hadn't seen Death and Rogue interact before.

There was something almost maternal in the way she cradled him, her touch so careful, protective and at the same time delicate, as if she were afraid that he might slip away completely. And she was. Ever since Jean and Maddie left them, she had been sitting with him, holding him, as his eyes got heavier and heavier by the second. Complete exhaustion claiming him whole after all the work done by the three women inside his brain. As he slipped away into a state of what seemed to be a deep sleep, Rogue kept reassuring him and talking about their experiences when they were together but miles away from each other inside the tower. He was the predator, and she had been his prey.

"I thought I could bring you back to me if I surrendered my body to him. I thought the intimacy, the pleasure, would help you somehow reconnect with me, resurface," she tried to explain herself.

"I know, chére," he replied in a very thin voice, his eyelids almost closing. But she kept going, wanting to keep him awake, anchored to her, to the present moment. The possibility of him slipping into the land of dreaming and waking up as Death terrified her. She didn't know if that was possible, or it was just some irrational fear caused by all the traumas. One thing she was sure, though. She didn't want to try her luck.

"Sugar, do you..." She hesitated, unsure on how to phrase it in a way that wouldn't make him feel even worse about the time he was under Death's control. "Do you know that... were you there when I told Death that I had chose you? I took Apocalypse offer to come to you just to be able to tell you that! I didn't care if I lived or died when I chose to follow him... I just needed for you to know..." Her voice started to break, and her voice was caught in her throat, the urge to cry strangling her as she avoided to cry in front of him. He needed joy. Laughter. Anything but her crying.

"That you chose me that time, and all the other times? Yes," he said, his eyes still closed but his lips curling into a lazy grin. "Best rerun of my life."

"How!? Have you? Has Maddie shown you the other versions of that night too?"

"Oh, l'amour, what's a boy in love supposed to do..." He sang the words playfully like he was about to start one of his silly dances for Jubilee's benefit and amusement, making Roguegrin despite everything. "Died every fuckingtime but this one. Let me tell you, chére, fategot it out for me. If I had a dollar for every time I kicked it for love, I'd be rich enough to retire in a universe where I don't decide to save the day and end up getting charred."

She snorted, shaking her head as his smirk widened.

"Only you can make me laugh at that. Remy LeBeau, what would I ever do with myself without you, swamp rat?"

His eyes found hers again, and that easy smile spread on his lips again. She was so in love with him, it was outrageous. She decided right there and then, she wouldn't be holding anything back.

"You know what I would do, what I have done, sugar? I'd go totally mad, that's what. Burned all my bridges, got violent, went crazy. I was ready to kill for revenge. You don't know the half of it—hell, everyone must hate me now. I was so angry."

"Woo, naughty Roguey. I approve," he quipped, utterly unfazed.

"I love you, Remy, so much you have no idea. Next time you decide to play hero and blow up the whole damn world, take me with you. Charge my body for all I care! I don't want to be here if you're not."

The weight of her words resonated within him, and for a moment, they just held each other in silence. Eventually, they spoke about some of the memories Madelyne had shown them. While Remy had thought Maddie was trying to shake him out of his numb prison, Rogue had believed it was Maddie's way of crying for help.

Before they could keep their banter going, and love promises, and explore their possibleRomeo and Juliet scenarios, the distant roar of engines broke through the quiet. Rogue lifted her head just in time to see the Blackbird descending, its sleek form cutting through the sky. The landing gear engaged with a hiss, and the ramp lowered, revealing Jubilee and Roberto da Costa, looking somehow much more mature and less the inconsequential teens that they were. Hardships must have made them grow, Rogue thought sadly. Behind them, Forge stepped forward, his sharp gaze sweeping over the scene.

"Well, ain't this a sight," Jubilee said, hands on her hips. "Is this really Remy, Rogue, or what? Have you had one custom-made for you, like Cykes did?"

Rogue exhaled a laugh, shaking her head. "Good to see you too, Jubes."

Remy grinned, exhaustion still very much clear in his eyes but humor still intact.

"Bon, that depends, petite. Did y'all bring beignets?"

Roberto smirked. "Beignets? You nearly blow yourself to kingdom come, and you're worried about snacks?"

"Man's got priorities," Forge muttered, shaking his head as he started scanning Remy with a handheld device. "In case you still need any proof, that is him."

"Did you take your sweet time to craft this clone-detector just to avoid Cykes sleeping with the wrong woman again?"

"My goodness, Remy! I thought you were sleepy and exhausted, yet here you are. On fire now," Rogue remarked.

"And before you think you can get away with murder, Jubes. You and Roberto, huh? Was I right or was I right?"

The teenager blushed crimson and that was not like her at all. Remy was totally right.

And just like that, the moment had shifted. The weight of everything they had been through still clung to them. Rogue and Remy were still worried about the others, exhaustion was still threatening to get the best of them, but something was different now. The tension that had wrapped around them for what felt like an eternity loosened just a little. With familiar faces around, with the hum of the Blackbird in the background and the easy banter cutting through the heaviness, the world didn't seem quite so deplorable. For the first time in what felt like forever, things felt a bit more normal, maybe even hopeful.