7 February

Discovery.–n. 1. the act or an instance of discovering 2. something discovered 3. compulsory disclosure, as of facts or documents 4. the third space shuttle to orbit and return to earth

Remy stood outside the school, standing conspicuously in the middle of the building's exit so that Rogue couldn't miss him. Rogue scowled at the sight of him and debated about turning back into the hallway to avoid him, but knew that if she did so, she'd miss her ride home with Scott and Jean. She bit the bullet and walked up to him without taming her disgruntled expression.

"What do you want?" she sneered.

"Hi, Remy. What a nice day we're havin', non? Look at da way da sun's shinin' an' school's gettin' out so's I'm a free person again. How're you?" he said.

"Shut up. You don't get the whole nice guy routine anymore, Remy. You gave that up on Friday," Rogue scowled.

"Yah, an' I get dat. I'm back an' got time, chere. Lemme explain t'ings t' ya, 'kay? I promised I would."

"Why should Ah wanna hear what you have to say?"

Remy blinked. "I guess … I dun know, chere. I t'ought ya wanted ta understand on Friday."

Scott and Jean walked out of the building at that time and drew even with Remy and Rogue. Jean pulled Scott to a stop beside them, quickly assessing the situation. "Everything okay, you two?" she asked.

"Fine," Remy said shortly.

Jean's eyes darted to Rogue. She was the one Jean was more concerned about in this instance.

"Yeah, we're fine. Ah'll hitch a ride with Remy today. See ya at home," Rogue confirmed. This was Remy's last chance. He better explain everything in full, and it better make sense, or she'd leave him behind for good.

"Okay," Jean said. Her expression told Rogue that she was still calculating the exchange. "We'll see you later."

Remy waited until Scott and Jean were out of sight, swept away by the sea of high schoolers walking away to their vehicles. "T'anks, chere."

"You better have a good, warm place t' explain yourself, Cajun," Rogue said. "'Cuz Ah ain't stickin' around out here t' hear ya out."

Remy nodded eagerly. "No problem!"

While the trip to the coffee shop was none too pleasant, it was an expedited trip with Remy's motorcycle. Snow piled up along the sides of the roads, decorating the shoulders with heaps of muddy, cold moisture, but the roads were clear. Clear or not, Rogue was clutching on to Remy for dear life the entire way, halfway expecting the bike to slide out from underneath them and send them into one of those snow banks. On the bright side, the bike was very easy to park close to the coffee shop, minimizing their walk.

Rogue's unclothed hands clutched a coffee mug, holding on to it to warm up her fingers. "Alright, spill. Who's your père?"

"Mon père," Remy explained unhelpfully with a shrug. He'd offered his coat to Rogue inside the shop, but she refused. He'd hung it on his chair, exposing a very plain t-shirt underneath. "He found me on da streets as a chil'. I picked pockets t' stay alive, an' I ended up pickin' his pocket one day. Instead'a fightin' me off or gettin' me in trouble, he took me in like a son. B'fore him, I didn't really have anyone really lookin' out f'r me, y'know?"

"You were a child thief?"

Remy nodded. "Pretty good one, too." His eyes darted off to the side for a moment before reengaging hers. "D'ough, dis was on da streets of Nawleans. Lots'a drunks an' tourists."

"So when he found you, he acted like your daddy. Fed ya and clothed ya instead'a you doin' it yourself," Rogue guessed.

"Mmhmm. Mon père," Remy repeated. "Father figure. I even adopted his last name. Didn't really have one b'fore."

And Rogue thought the beginning of her life was rough. At least she had a parental figure until her mother disappeared.

"Anyways, he's been findin' himself in a whole lotta trouble lately. He's kinda da head of'a big, extended family sorta thing. I dunno how many of us der are. Were. I keep tryin' ta split, but dey keep pullin' me back. An' wit' everyt'in' mon père's done f'r me, I don't feel like I can really say no."

"What kinda trouble is he in?" Rogue asked.

"Financial," Remy replied. Something felt off to her about his answer. He replied quickly and flatly in comparison with the rest of his story. He didn't give her too much time to think about it. "He's gettin' pushed outta da city 'cuz he can't pay up. B'fore I left, I was like his right-hand man. So it's kinda my problem, too."

"Why'd you even leave, Remy?" Rogue asked. Rogue had her reasons for leaving Mystique. But Remy had offered her no concrete reason for leaving his adoptive family.

"I don' like da way dey pushin' me, chere," Remy explained. "Seein' as I'm like mon père's son, my family tryin'a push me ta marry a woman t' smooth t'ings out an' get our family back on track."

Rogue was dumbfounded. Marriage was a thing that never even crossed her mind. Remy didn't seem much older than her, if at all. Teenagers shouldn't have to think about such things. Suddenly, his leaving was making sense. As well as his reasons for continuously visiting his family.

"So every time you disappear …" Rogue started.

"Court dates an' family meetin's an' such," Remy said. "I'm tryin' ta come up wit' a dif'rent solution so I ain't stuck."

"Why didn't you jus' do that from New Orleans?"

Remy's mouth twitched. "One: Belladonna's brother, Julien. Two: dat shit way too oppressive up close an' personal. T'ree: 'Roro."

"'Roro?"

"Stormy."

"Oh." Rogue's face scrunched up. "What?"

Remy's gaze shifted to somewhere far away. A small smile ghosted his face. "Dat woman an' I got inta so much trouble when I firs' got away from my family. Not like real trouble. Teenager t'ings." Rogue had no idea what he could be talking about. Ororo acted so much more uptight than Remy ever had. And was Remy playing Rogue when he really had eyes for Ororo?

Remy suddenly seemed to realize Rogue's jealousy. "Oh, not like dat, chere." He grimaced. Licked his lips almost nervously.

"What?" Rogue prompted, perhaps a little too harshly.

It took Remy another moment to reply. He was thinking too hard. "We went on unauthorized adventures." Rogue looked more confused than placated. "Breakin' an' enterin'," he explained more simply. "Usually temporarily unoccupied places'a da rich."

Rogue's eyes flew wide. She didn't take Ororo as the rebellious type. Remy, sure.

"I was runnin' away from responsibility. I dunno 'Ro's excuse," Remy continued. "'Ventually she convinced me ta join da X-Men. I jus' wanted somet'in' comfortable. Familiar. But I didn't want ta go back home, neither. So I stayed wit' her an' joined." He leaned forward. "You kept me from stayin' in Nawleans. It'd be so easy ta fall back int' place an' stay. I'd take over Jean-Luc's place as da family head in some years. But you keep me comin' back t' New York."

Rogue didn't know what to say. "Me? Why?"

Remy leaned back again. "'Cuz you da most interestin' person I e'r met, chere. Belladonna an' I got a long history, sure. But she a kind'a dangerous I'm not necessarily keen on invitin' inta my life. An' dat woud mean stayin' in Nawleans."

"So Ah'm just a means ta a way," Rogue nearly spat.

"No." Remy said that firmly enough that she believed him. The rest of his story, however, as absurd as it was, almost sounded like it was missing pieces rather than being completely fabricated. "I don't want ta stay in Nawleans, chere. I want ta stay wit' you."

"An' how long's that gonna last?" Rogue asked.

"What gonna last?"

"You bein' interested in me."

Remy snorted. "Chere, long as you don' push me away, I gonna be here."

"Except when you're with your family."

He scowled. "Hopin' dat's gettin' clarified real soon. I'm workin' on it." He held up a hand to his temple and rubbed it slowly. "I jus' don' know how ta fix it yet."