Uncanny X-Men 1943

Chapter 15

...

Emma awkwardly hauled Rogue into the front seat of the truck, and climbed into the drivers seat beside her. She changed out of diamond form and forced the voices out of her head as she turned on the engine. Surely someone would hear. Someone would notice.

//Elizabeth, time is against us.//

//We're coming, Emma. We've got the cargo. Rendezvous in 10?//

Emma looked at Rogue's unconscious body and turned the truck around, slowly heading away from the camp. //As soon as you can make it.//

//Have you been spotted?// Elizabeth asked.

//We - I need Logan. You?//

//So far... almost too good? We'll be there as soon as we can make it.//

//I'll be in touch.//

//Understood.//

Emma changed back to diamond form. "They're coming, Rogue. God, Remy's going to panic. But... Logan - Logan can help you. Like he did last time. You're very lucky you know. It's a very - convenient power set you have. It'll be all right. It will all be all right," Emma said, wishing she believed anything she was saying.

...

"Everything all right?" Fantomex asked.

"Just drive," Elizabeth said, feeling that something was very, wrong. She kept her eyes fixed on the gate up ahead. There were too many voices here, too many thoughts, and far too many ghosts. Emma could feel them too, but at least could easily block them out by changing her form.

"Were there that many at the gates earlier?" Logan asked, peering ahead.

"Remy, care to make a distraction?" Elizabeth said.

"You want me to blow something up?"

"I thought we were doing this quietly?" Logan smirked.

"Those brick buildings there," Elizabeth said, ignoring him, "They're offices."

"I need to get closer," Remy said.

"Here," Elizabeth said, pulling Fantomex's gun from his holster before he could protest. Elizabeth forced herself to swallow and offer an encouraging smile. It had just struck her why Emma needed Logan, and it wasn't because she needed something stabbed. "Charge the bullets?"

"Yes," Remy grinned.

"That ain't gunna remove those guards, Bets," Logan said, "It's only gunna piss 'em off and make us look a clear bloody target."

"Not if they're asleep," Elizabeth said, and all the guards up ahead collapsed where they stood. "Fantomex, keep driving straight. Got those bullets ready, Remy? Time to create a little administrative nightmare."

...

Remy sat in the back of the truck as it bounced along roads in varying states of disrepair, Rogue asleep in his lap. He had no idea where they were, whether they were back in France or still in Germany or if it really made any difference. He assumed they were heading west; Logan was driving, Emma in the passenger seat. Remy had the feeling that they were psychically talking to each other, but they never say a word out loud. Elizabeth and Warren had fallen asleep, wrapped in each others arms, slouched opposite him. Skinny little Kurt was asleep on the floor of the truck in between them. Remy didn't understand how they could sleep.

Perhaps Kurt and Warren and Elizabeth were just so relieved that nothing else mattered.

Rogue was so unwell. She was deathly pale, and cold, and her right hand was severely bruised, with the bruising drifting down her arm towards her elbow. Emma suggested it might be broken, but without proper light, let alone a medical professional, it was too hard to know.

And Jean-Philippe?

After the two teams had reunited a couple of miles outside of the camp, Fantomex had taken the communications truck and headed south. Apparently he knew where a Resistance band was, and planned to join with them. Everyone changed back into their own coats, except for Kurt, who wore Fantomex's civilian coat, and Warren, who took one of the German coats, but not before Elizabeth tore off all insignia. Fantomex took the remaining coats, hats, and anything else that could be used in the fight against the enemy, and disappeared into the night.

"You trust he won't double-cross us?" Logan asked.

"That's about as far as I do trust him," Emma had said.

Remy could not say he had been sad to see the strange man go. There was something about Jean-Philippe that he didn't trust. In fact, there was a lot about his fellow compatriot that he didn't trust. Even the way he spoke French seemed off. Perhaps it was because he was from the north of the country, and Remy from the south. Something about his mannerisms, the way he'd look at Rogue and Emma and Elizabeth, his love of weapons... there was something that wasn't right about the man. But now he was gone, and Emma and Logan seemed satisfied, and no more was said.

Rogue shifted slightly.

"Mon cœur?" Remy asked.

Rogue moaned. Remy stroked her hair.

Once they'd got through the gates and were headed towards the rendezvous place, Elizabeth had warned the team that she feared Rogue was injured. Remy wasn't too concerned about 'injured'. Rogue had been shot when they were fleeing from Lyon, and Logan had healed her then. Surely the same would happen now. When the teams were reunited, Logan had pulled off his gloves and taken her hands in his. Nothing had happened. He placed one hand on Rogue's cheek. All had waited with baited breath. Again, nothing had happened.

"I'm not feelin' it," Logan said, "Last time, in the plane, I felt..."

Emma had nodded briskly. "It drained her powers."

"What does that mean?" Remy had asked, but Emma had begun giving orders, things to do with Fantomex and the trucks and the coats and getting rations into Warren and Kurt. Rogue was handed over to Remy. He took the risk and touched her face with his bare hands. Rogue's eyes had flickered, but hadn't opened. Remy had not let her out of his arms since.

He wanted to be mad at Emma. How could she have let Rogue do this? Risk her life like this? What did she mean by "drained her powers"?

He wanted to be mad at Elizabeth, for lending Rogue her powers, and not having given her any guidance or training in how to use them.

He wanted to be mad at himself, for letting Rogue come on this mission. He should have convinced her to stay in England. He shouldn't have let Emma split the teams up the way she had.

But he knew the truth. This had been Rogue's choice. She never would have been left behind. She made the sacrifice, knowing the possible outcomes. She wasn't stupid, and she certainly wasn't naive. He bend down and kissed her forehead.

"Ah'm all right..." Rogue whispered, her voice sounding miles away. "Ya'll ain't getting rid o' me that easy..."

Remy chuckled, relief surging through his and held Rogue tightly. She nestled her head into his chest, and Remy found that he felt very tied.