Chapter Five
Though Remy usually despised such places, they went to Wallmart to shop since everything would be under one roof, including clothes for Rogue. Remy kept his apartment topped up with food but perishables always needed to be bought fresh, so while Rogue looked through the clothes, Remy navigated the isles getting bread, butter, meats and anything that else they might need or want, like chocolate. He expected to be finished long before Rogue but she found him while he was browsing the cooked meats isle.
"You done already?" he asked eyeing the few items she had over her arm. It seemed she'd chosen three long sleeved t-shirts, one pair of jeans and some leather gloves. Where she found gloves at this time of year he didn't know but surely given free reign, Rogue should have been in and out of the changing rooms a dozen or more times. It didn't even look like she'd tried anything on at all.
"I just need enough until I get back to the institute."
"You sure? I told you to go wild. I know that's kinda hard to do in Wallmart but-"
"Remy, first of all, my wardrobe requirements are kind of specific and second of all, I don't have any money."
"You've got five hundred in your backpack," he said, realising that while he'd taken the money from both backpacks, he had forgotten to give hers to her. He fished his wallet out and handed over five crisp 100 dollar bills.
"That's still your money."
"So pay me back when you get home." He had no intention of taking her money but he knew that would end her protests. "Now come on, those clothes you picked don't even look like you."
He headed for the clothing section and Rogue had little choice but to follow after him. He quickly found some tank tops like she usually wore and threw three into the cart, then he found a black miniskirt. He had to guess at the size but Remy was good at things like that. He got three again. Then he moved onto the pantihose and picked out her normal opaque black, adding a couple of pairs of flesh toned ones, just for a change.
She looked mortified as she followed after him but she wasn't trying to stop him. He knew people were string at him but he ignored them. Rogue seemed to be having a much harder time, which was out of character for her. Normally Rogue would tell them to take a picture as it would last longer, not bow her head and ignore them as she was doing.
To spare her blushes, he left her with orders to buy more underwear while he checked out the rest of the clothing.
Her mesh tops proved a little harder to match but he was able to find a couple of sheer blouses that she could wear over the tank tops, plus some very loosely knitted, thin sweaters. Finally he stopped by the shoes and looked over the selections. Being summer, there were no heavy Doc martin type boots of the kind Rogue usually favoured, but then he didn't much like those anyway. Finally he choose two pairs of ankle books that weren't too out of style for her, one had a slightly higher heal than the other.
He went back to find Rogue and passed the makeup section. He wasn't sure what she used but he did know her colours, so he chose the right colours in the most expensive brand they had. He bought a black khol eyeliner, black mascara, purple eyeshadow and lipstick, white highlighter and a few shades of nail varnish. Her complexion was good enough that he didn't think she'd need foundation or power.
Rogue was still perusing the underwear section when he found her. She had picked out one bra and a three pack of panties.
"Chère, you're never gonna feel good about yourself in those," he said, snatching the bra out of her hands to see the size.
He then picked up three satin bra and panty sets in dark blue, burgundy and black.
"There, that should last you a while." He headed off to the checkouts, not giving her a chance to argue.
She was sullen as they went through and tried to insist on paying but Remy wouldn't hear of it.
"I chose them, I buy them," he said, pointing to the pile of T-shirts and jeans she had picked for herself, which he had left in the cart. "You can buy those if you really want to."
She did, though she didn't look happy about it.
Once finished, they hailed a cab to take them to Remy's apartment and thankfully, the cab driver gave them a hand inside with all their bags.
Remy's apartment was on Chartres Street, on the ground floor of an old complex and his front door led off a charming courtyard. The place was smaller than she imagined but very homey and welcoming.
"So where are we?" Rogue asked as they began unpacking in the kitchen.
"Just off the French Quarter.
"I thought you'd live in the Quarter."
"The Quarter is neutral territory, this is the Thieves territory," he shrugged. "It's always best to live where your enemy can't get you,"
"The rippers can't come here?"
"Nope, not without fear of reprisals."
That made Rogue feel better.
While he thought of it, Remy rummaged in his drawers until he found a map of new Orleans and a marker pen. He began drawing a ling around the French Quarter, then extended the line north west from there. He put cross-hatches through the lower/western side.
"The darkened area is the rippers territory. Do not go in there. They are vicious and cruel and if you get into any trouble, I can't come and get you, got it?"
Rogue nodded. She wasn't staying around long enough to want to go there anyway.
"The Quarter is neutral so you can go there and officially neither side is allowed to cause any trouble, but keep your wits about you. The rest belongs to the Thieves, so if you run into any trouble, just ask for Henri."
"Why not you?"
"Cos then my father will get involved and I know he's already interested in your powers. Keep it simple, say you're a friend of Henri's."
"Won't his wife mind strange women claiming to be his friend?"
"Chère, I don't think anything could drive a wedge between those two, but you're welcome to try." Remy chuckled at the thought.
Rogue smiled then continued unpacking their food while Remy put it away. He briefly ran through what was in the cupboards that she was likely to use and told her to help herself. Then he showed her to a small bedroom that looked like it was decorated for a child.
"Will you be all right in here?" he asked. "I'd take this room but the beds a little small for me."
"I'll be fine," she assured him, slightly sad that he wouldn't be crawling into bed beside her any more. She dumped her bags on the bed then followed him out.
"Towels and linen in here, bathroom's here, don't worry about using all the hot water, there's plenty, and this is my room." He opened the last door and Rogue felt an odd thrill as she looked into his bedroom. She probably shouldn't, she was sure that hundreds of women before her had seen this place, but even that thought couldn't dampen her thrill.
It was nice, old fashioned, like the house but welcoming and surprisingly simple for someone like Remy.
"What, you wondering where I keep the chandelier to swing from?" he teased.
Rogue blushed.
"You're probably dying for a shower, so I'll put some coffee on and make us some lunch. Come through when you're done."
Rogue wasn't really sure how she felt about having looked around his home, but it certainly wasn't what she had expected. This was no bachelor pad, no love palace or den of iniquity. In fact it even had a kids bedroom, though she assumed that he just hadn't gotten around to redecorating it after he'd bought it.
Rogue tore the labels off her new clothes then headed into the shower. The tub was an old fashioned one with claw feet, but thankfully the shower mounted on the wall above it was new and powerful. She was surprised to note that there were women's products in here and of all things, No More Tears baby shampoo! Maybe the child's room wasn't a left over. It wouldn't surprise her if Remy did have a kid, but if so he never spoke about her. And obviously he or she didn't live here full time, so maybe he was a part time dad.
She didn't know how she felt about that revelation either. Everything was all so confusing.
Back in her room she looked over the items she had purchased and, grudgingly, accepted that Remy's choices were nicer than her jeans and T-shirts. She dressed in the black underwear, pantihose and miniskirt but left off the tank top, covering her bra with a sheer green blouse he had chosen for her. It was a little frilly for her tastes but it would do.
She looked through her makeup, wondering if she could remember how to apply it. It had to be three months or more since she had worn any. Afraid of making a fool of herself, she kept it light with just a thin line under her eyes, mascara and eyeshadow.
When she went back into the main room, Remy had set his laptop up on the table and was munching a sandwich while he worked. He looked over and smiled as she entered.
"You look beautiful, chère."
Rogue blushed.
"Here." He pointed to another plate on the table which was covered in saran wrap, then a third plate. "And Tante baked us cookies. They're not as nice as when they're warm, but I'll bet they're still the best cookies you've ever had."
Rogue smiled and unwrapped her plate.
"Who's Tante Mattie?" she asked.
"Technically, a servant in my fathers house. Unofficially though, she was like a mother to Henri and me. Well, the only mother we really had."
"What happened to your adopted mother?"
"Don't know. She died before I was adopted, shortly after Henri was born but Jean-Luc doesn't like to talk about it. I don't think even Henri knows much about her."
"I'm sorry."
Remy smiled. "Can't miss what you never had, chère."
"Sure you can," she said softly. She had never had a real mother but seeing those lucky few mutants at the institute who's parents did care about them, she now knew exactly what she had been missing.
"Maybe," he agreed. "But it won't do you any good."
Rogue nodded and played with her sandwich. "Remy?"
He looked up from the screen again.
"Not hungry?" he noticed she hadn't touched her sandwich except to play with it. "I can make you something else, or you can. Your choice."
"It's not the sandwich," she said softly, placing it back on the plate. "Do you... Well... Who's room am I sleeping in?"
"Sarah's."
As she peered at him through her lashes, she thought she could detect the hint of a smile on his lips. She didn't like being laughed at and that finally gave her the confidence to ask what she really wanted to.
"Do you have a child, Remy?"
"Not exactly. She's my responsibility, but not my biology."
"Oh."
Remy decided to put her out of her misery.
"Sarah's a mutant like us, and like me, she has a visible mutation. She lived underground most of her life, hiding in the shadows. There was a whole group of them, kinda like the Morlocks you got in New York, but New Orleans is too low to have tunnels underneath it, like New York. They hid the same way I used to, in disused places, venturing out after dark. I guess that made them harder to spot."
"How did you meet her?
"I was casing a job one night in the warehouse district when I heard gun shots, then all this shouting and screaming began to ring out. I ran to the noise but I was too far away to be of any real help. Mutants attacking humans, humans shooting mutants, dead bodies everywhere. I didn't know who started it, but the humans were well armed, so I had an idea. By the time I got close, the fight seemed to be over and the few humans who were alive were burning rubber out of there.
"Then I heard a whimper. Sarah had hidden behind a dumpster. She was basically okay, just a few scrapes and bruises, so I brought her home with me. You'll get to meet her later. Tante Alice, looks after her when I'm out of town, but I couldn't pass through without seeing her."
"Oh my God! What about her mother?"
"She was living with the group too. No one but Sarah survived."
"So you just took her in?"
"Why not. She was 5 years old, with a visible mutation and no parents. I'm not her father, Rogue, nor does she want me to be. That girl has more trust issues than both of us combined, I'm just trying to do right by her. Show her that not everyone will abandon her or leave her or die."
"I know but..."
"What would you have done, left her at the mercy of the state?"
"No! I just..."
"You didn't expect that from me." His voice was no longer warm. "Don't worry, chère, I get it."
"No, I didn't mean-"
"Forget it. I found out what happened to your friends." Any ideas he'd had for breaking it gently were forgotten. "The mansion exploded."
Rogue gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god, are they all right?" her voice was muffled by her hand but he could understand her. He felt a little bad about being so harsh with her now.
"Don't know, chère. There's no record of any survivors, but equally they didn't find any bodies."
"We have to get back there!" Rogue got to her feet.
"And what if this is more mutant haters?" he was back to being harsh, afraid that she would rush headlong into something she didn't understand. "Or the government or Trask trying to wipe you all out? You go waltzing in there and you just painted a big old target on your back, Rogue."
Deflated, Rogue sat back down with a thud. "I have to find them."
"And we will. For now, just try to remember that they didn't find any bodies, okay?"
Rogue nodded.
"I'll find the X-Men, then we'll go to them, not the mansion."
"How will you find them?" she asked.
"Don't know yet. I'm reading through the police reports, hopefully I'll find some contact details but if I don't, I'll use the Thieves' network, send out word of who I'm looking for, and if that doesn't work, there's always classified ads."
"Classified ads?"
Remy smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "We Thieves often communicate through personal ads. 'Handsome red-head Cajun seeks 6' blonde for short term fun, maybe more. Hopefully they'll share my passion for royal history, gemstones and travelling'. That means Remy LeBeau needs the help of a blond thief, in this case it would be the 6' tall, blond, Dominic, to steal a royal gem from oversees. Short term contract but if we work well together, we might do it again. Then I just sit back and wait for word to get to Dom and him to call me."
"Wow. I will never look at personal ads the same way again."
"There's other ways. Sometimes we put an ad in the job vacancies, if it's important we'll take an ad in the front of the paper, depends on the job, but the lonely hearts classified are usually free, so we stick with them mostly."
Before Rogue could respond, the front door opened and a girl of perhaps six ran in.
"Remy!"
Her eyes lit up when she saw him and she threw herself into his arms. He settled her onto his lap and held her tightly, seemingly ignoring the small bony protuberances that were digging into him. .
"I missed you," Sarah said.
"I know, petite, I missed you too."
"Promise you won't go away again?"
"You know I can't do that, chère. Soon I'm gonna have to take this pretty lady home, and she don't live close to us."
Sarah finally pulled out of the hug and turned to Rogue. There was now a forth presence in the room, one who had actually bothered to close the door behind herself.
"Tante," Remy beckoned the older woman forward with a smile. "Time for some introductions, non? Tante, Sarah, this is Rogue, a friend of mine. Rogue, this is Tante Anna, my Tante Mattie's cousin and Sarah's nanny, and this is Sarah."
"Pleased to meet you." Rogue stood up and leaned over the table to shake hands with the older woman, but Sarah had tucked her head into Remy's shoulder.
Sarah appeared to have pink hair and odd, lumpy shapes all over her body. Tante Anna looked to be in her 30's but her eyes spoke of a longer life, or at least a wisdom beyond her years.
"You too, child." Anna shook Rogue's hand firmly.
"Rogue won't hurt you, petite," Remy tried to reassure Sarah. "She's like us, a mutant."
Sarah looked up at him. "She doesn't look like a mutant."
"Not all mutations are visible, you know that. But Rogue is still one of us. Be nice to her, hien?"
Sarah looked over at her, though she was still nervous.
"It's very nice to meet you, Miss Rogue."
"Just Rogue, and it's nice to meet you too, Sarah. I love your hair."
A self-conscious hand went up to her pink locks. "I like yours too," Sarah said. "Do you die it? Remy won't let me die mine."
"Your hair is gorgeous, and Remy's right that you shouldn't die it. My hair is natural too, but it used to make me self-conscious when I was younger. People used to stare at me."
"Do they still?" Sarah asked.
Rogue nodded. These days it was hard to tell how much was because of her goth look and how much was because if her hair but either way, they still stared.
"I ignore them now. I like my hair, and that's all that matters."
"But I don't like my hair."
Rogue realised that Sarah may be young but she was sharp, and trying to use Rogue to change Remy's mind.
"I didn't at your age either, and I'll bet Remy didn't like his eyes at your age, but you have to give yourself time to get used to it."
"Why? I can dye it. Lots of old people dye their hair."
"True, but if you changed everything about yourself to fit in with other people, who will you be? Just a clone of someone else? Then what happens when people don't like something about you that you can't change?"
Sarah pouted.
"You know you are belle, mon mignon." [my cutie]
"Only you think so."
"Not true, Tante Anna and Rogue think it too."
"We do," Tante Anna said, heading into the kitchen.
Sarah realised that she had lost that argument, so moved onto her next one.
"Tante Anna says I can't stay with you tonight."
"She's right, petite. Hopefully we won't be here long enough for you to unpack and besides, Rogue needs your room."
Rogue swallowed, feeling guilty for stealing this girls room. And also kind of hopeful that maybe she would get to share Remy's bed. She had awoken a few times since she first became aware that she was sharing her bed and each time, she was able to get back to sleep easier than she was used to. The thought of sleeping alone again was a little bit scary.
Not that she intended to admit that to anyone. She was a grown ass woman after all, and she would not use Remy as some kind of overgrown comfort blanket. Well okay, maybe she would but she most certainly wouldn't admit it, nor would she come to rely on him.
Sarah looked at her, with big pleading eyes.
"I... I don't mind taking the couch." Rogue found herself saying. "It's her room, she shouldn't be kicked out of it by a stranger."
"She isn't being kicked out, she's staying with her Tante Anna, just like she always doesn't when I'm away."
"But you're not away!" Sarah argued. "And I've hardly seen you in ages!"
"That's my fault," Rogue said. "He was rescuing me."
Sarah tilted her head to the side. "What did you need rescuing from? Was it like an evil troll? Or a wicked step-mother?"
"No, sweetheart, it was some very bad men." Rogue explained in simple terms.
"Like the men who hurt your mom," Remy said softly.
Sarah swallowed then hugged Remy. "Thank you for helping her, and I'm sorry I didn't want you to go."
Rogue was surprised by this girl. She seemed much older than her years.
Remy hugged her back. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, petite, but I didn't want you to worry."
"I know, I just missed you, that's all."
"I know you did, mon mignon. I did too. Were you a good girl for Tante Anna?"
"I was." They both looked over to Anna, who it seemed had begun to prepare dinner.
"She was," Anna confirmed.
"You don't have to do that, Tante. I'll make dinner."
"I know you will, I'm just getting you started." Anna smiled.
"So can I stay here tonight?" Sarah asked.
Remy looked hesitant.
"I don't mind," Rogue said.
"Okay, fine, if Tante Anna doesn't mind going home alone, you can stay until Rogue and I have to leave."
Sarah threw her arms around his neck in thanks.
Tante Anna left soon afterwards, promising to return the next day for Sarah's lessons. Rogue spent most of the afternoon playing with Sarah while Remy combed through police reports. Rogue wanted to do it but she couldn't access police computers without Remy, and someone had to keep Sarah entertained.
When Remy stopped to prepare dinner, Rogue put a DVD on for Sarah and went to help.
"Did you find anything?" she asked as she began chopping peppers.
"No, nothing helpful. No one from the school was interviewed because they couldn't find them but equally, still no reports of bodies at the scene."
"Anything else?"
"They've completed a preliminary report on the explosion and... well they can't find a source."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that nothing caused the explosion. Not gas, or explosives or a bomb. One moment the mansion was there the next, something unknown caused it to blow apart."
"Mutant," Rogue surmised.
"Probably. My explosions don't leave any residue, obviously, but there is usually a source. Whatever I charge, when it explodes, that immediate area gets more badly damaged that the rest. They couldn't even find any trace of that at the mansion though."
"But if you charged a whole building, couldn't the whole thing blow up equally?"
Remy gave her a sidelong glance, thinking that next she would ask when this happened and if he had an alibi.
"I suppose it would," his tone was cautious, "but it would take a helluva lot of power to do that. I've never attempted anything on that scale before."
"No," Rogue looked shocked that he could think that of her. "I... I... Remy, I know you wouldn't do anything like that. Plus, why would you rescue me just to blow up my friends, it doesn't make any sense. I only asked because you have that kind of power, but you aren't the only one who can blow things up. Jubilee and Tabby can too, and they're just people I know. Who knows how many other mutants out there can make things explode."
She looked sincere but he knew he'd earned himself a bad reputation working for Magneto.
"The explosion happened on the 25th," he said, just in case she was still having any doubts. "The day after I rescued you, when we were hiding in the cave."
"You didn't have to tell me that," she said. "And I'm really sorry that I gave you a reason to."
Remy smiled, casting the whole incident off. They chatted about what else he'd found until the food was close to being ready, then he called Sarah in.
"Petite, go and set the table on the courtyard, hein? And put some music on out there."
Sarah was obviously used to that task and quickly set about collecting hat they needed. The courtyard was shared with the other ground floor condos but each had their own area. Flower beds lined the courtyard and in the middle there was a round bed filled with various lush plants. The plants also helped to give the illusion of privacy, separating the yard into different areas.
Remy had a large wrought iron table out there with six chairs, which Sarah had laid for them. Rogue carried two plates out as Remy brought the third and bottles of red wine and water. In the background Rogue could hear the gentle tones of blues music coming from the apartment. It wasn't loud enough to disturb, but it did help set the mood.
Despite what had happened to her and her worry for her friends, Rogue felt more relaxed than she had since this whole ordeal began.
Remy and Sarah chatted amiably as they ate but Rogue preferred to sit back and listen. It was just so domestic and comforting to listen to them. They may not be family, but they sure felt like they were and Rogue enjoyed feeing like she was a part of it.
"So where do you live?" Sarah asked Rogue, interrupting her reverie.
"New York."
"You don't sound like you do."
Rogue laughed. "Well that's just where I live. I'm from Mississippi originally."
"When are you going home?"
Rogue's smile faded a little.
"I don't know," she admitted, realising for perhaps the first time that this dinner with Remy and Sarah was perhaps as close as she was going to get to 'family' for a while. "Something happened while I was gone and I don't know where my friends are."
"Aren't they at home?"
"Our home got destroyed. I'm sure they're safe but they had no way to contact me and now, I have no way to contact them."
"You'll find them. Remy will help, he's good at finding things."
Stealing things, Rogue wanted to correct but she realised that she was being too harsh. So what if he did have a shady past, Remy had been nothing but good to her since he had rescued her and he deserved her respect.
She knew why she was tempted to snap, and that was because he had kissed her back earlier, after he had removed her tracker. She didn't want to punish him exactly, she had actually enjoyed it but therein lay the problem. It didn't matter if Remy liked her or if she liked him, nothing could ever come of it and that thought stung a little more than usual tonight.
"I'm sure he will." Rogue assured Sarah.
"He told me he was going to find me unicorn," Sarah explained. "He said that this bone on my forehead looks like a unicorn horn, but I didn't know what a unicorn was so he said he'd find one for me."
"A real, live unicorn?" Rogues eyes widened with shock. She thought that she may have missed her vocation as an actress.
"No, silly," Sarah giggled. "They're not real."
"Are too," Remy said. "It's just that only real good folks like me get to see them."
"Is that so?" Rogue couldn't help the smirk on her lips.
"Oui."
"Still, I guess he didn't find one," Sarah sighed theatrically and stared at her plate.
Remy knew exactly what she was doing and didn't answer. Sarah gave a deeper sigh.
Rogue could tell from his expression that he was just teasing the girl and tried her hardest not to laugh and give the game away.
When her third sigh felt real, Remy gave in.
"I take it you haven't been into your room since you got back?" he asked.
Sarah looked up at him, a grin shattering through her sad mood of moments ago. She took off running into the apartment, returning a few moments later with a six inch high carving of a unicorn.
"It's beautiful, Remy! Thank you!"
Remy hugged her a little awkwardly since she was still clutching the statue, then she sat back down at her seat and placed the unicorn by her plate.
"May I?" Rogue asked, gesturing towards the statue. Sarah nodded so Rogue picked it up. Rather than being a plaster of Paris mould, this thing was looked like it had been carved from marble. The work was exquisite, and she might almost believe this to be a miniature horse, until she touched it and felt the hardness. It must have cost a small fortune.
She wondered where Remy had been hiding this on their trip, or if he had bought it beforehand.
"Remy always brings me something back," Sarah continued chatting.
"What kind of things?" Rogue asked.
"Anything I ask for."
"It just guarantees that she's pleased to see me," Remy shrugged the comment off.
"That's sweet." Rogue smiled.
Shortly after dinner, Sarah was tucked into bed by Remy, who stayed to read her one of her stories. It seemed to be a nightly ritual, so Rogue began the clear up.
"You don't have to do this," Remy said when he returned.
"I know. I wanted to. It's the least I could do after that meal."
Remy smiled and picked up the tea towel to dry the dishes. They worked in companionable silence and when they were finished, Remy suggested finding a film to watch. Rogue browsed his DVD collection while Remy got bedding out for the couch.
"Find anything?" he asked.
"You have the entire collection of Buffy the Vampire Slayer," she said with a smile.
Remy shrugged. "A hot blond who can kick ass, need I say more?"
Rogue smiled. "I've never seen it."
"What, never? Really?"
Rogue shrugged.
"Okay, that settles it, we're watching Buffy." He put the bedding down beside the couch and got some more wine, while Rogue set up the first DVD.
"You can take the bed tonight," he said as he sat down to watch. "I'm fine on the couch."
"I'm not throwing you out of your own bed. Besides, the couch is comfy."
"Rogue, you are a guest here, I wouldn't feel right making you sleep on the couch."
"Well..." Rogue couldn't believe she was even contemplating saying this, but she did anyway. "We're both adults and it's a big enough bed. We could share. Besides," she winked, "I think I can trust you to keep your hands to yourself."
Remy was floored by her suggestion. Of course he wanted to and in fact now that he was used to sleeping beside her, he was certain that he wouldn't sleep very well without her there; what was shocking was that it had been her suggestion! She didn't know that he'd been getting into bed with her each night, so for her to willingly suggest sharing a bed was... unheard of.
"You sure about that, chère?"
"Well, if I can't wake you up in the morning, then don't blame me but yeah. I mean it's not like we're horny teenagers."
Remy raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, technically I'm still 19, but somehow I think I can resist your charms."
Remy smirked. "Well if you can't, at least it'll be a fun way to go, hein?"
"So that's settled." Rogue smiled. "Though we should probably keep a sheet between us, I'll sleep under it, you sleep over it, or the other way round. To be safe."
"Makes sense. Now, sit back and watch one of the greatest heroines of the silver screen." He didn't want her to dwell too much on what she had agreed to, just in case she changed her mind.
Rogue was soon captivated by Buffy, though she felt the need to critique her fighting moves. Remy wasn't too bothered since he had seen the whole series at least three times, but he still felt the need to defend Buffy to her, which resulted in a lot of good natured bantering.
Needless to say, Rogue was pretty soon captivated by Angel, just as Buffy was, so Remy suddenly had the urge to critique him. He didn't actually do a lot of fighting in the first season though, so Remy settled for pointing out his poor wardrobe and hairstyle choices.
Things became a little awkward when they headed to bed, but Remy changed in the room while Rogue changed in the bathroom and he was already under the covers when she came in. Rogue slipped in beside him, under the extra sheet that he had added, and lay on her side, facing him.
"You better not steal the covers," he warned, dispelling the awkwardness.
"You better not snore."
"And I don't care how irresistible Angel is, I hear you calling out his name, I'm dumping you on the floor."
"Fine, then I better not hear you calling out my name or I'll drain you faster than a gold digger drains her sugar daddy's bank account."
"Deal." Remy smiled. "So, how are you feeling?"
He didn't expect Rogue to answer, and the resulting silence confirmed his suspicions, so he was surprised when she did finally reply.
"I don't know," she confessed. "I'm still anxious, I still feel that there's someone just around the corner, waiting to take me back there. I guess I'm going to feel that way for a while. Then with the X-men M.I.A. I just... I don't know how to feel about that. I want to be optimistic but I can't help worrying. Then..."
"Then what?"
"It's silly."
"If it's how you feel, it's not silly."
"I just... I don't know, I sorta feel like this isn't real, you know? It's just too normal to be real. And then something happens and have to think how to react, like... I don't even remember. Half the time I rely on my voices to tell me what to do, like I've forgotten how to live."
"You have, chère. I know you aren't a criminal, but it's not uncommon for prisoners to have trouble acclimatising to their normal lives and freedom. They call it institutionalisation."
"You think I have that?"
"A touch, maybe. And perhaps you feel abnormal, chère, but it is a normal reaction to what you've been through."
"I hadn't even thought about what the mansion being gone means. We only just got it rebuilt too, so I guess I didn't have too many memories to lose. I already lost most of them when Mystique blew it up."
"Memories aren't in buildings, chère, there in here." He lightly stroked two fingers over her hair, just above her temple.
"I guess that my job will be gone too," she said. "Doubt they held it for three months."
"Where were you working?" he asked. He hadn't thought to ask details like that, or look them up himself. He was more concerned about where she was and getting her out.
"McCann's Bikes."
"Figures," he said with a smirk.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that you look like a motorcycle chick. It's a compliment."
"Oh, well... Thanks."
"You're welcome. So, you like the work?"
"Yeah."
"Couldn't the professor employ you? You do have a lotta vehicles at that school."
"Logan generally takes care of them. Besides, I like the independence of working somewhere else and earning my own money. But I have been training in the danger room on the Institute's jet so that I can repair and maintain that. Forge was helping me."
"Forge?"
"He's not really an X-Man, though he is a mutant."
"And his powers?"
"Genius and mechanical engineering, I guess. He's come up with all sorts of cool gizmo's, way out of my league, but I can learn to repair 'em." She sighed. "I'm still coming to grips with the X-Men stuff, there's a lot more computers involved." She smiled. "Sometimes I think Kitty would be the better choice to look after them."
"You can do it, chère."
"Thanks. And I know I can, I just really like working on bikes."
"What, you got a dream to one day open your own bike shop?"
"Maybe. But I have to say, my dream didn't include mutant terrorists, megalomaniac Egyptian mummies and destroyed mansions."
Remy smiled. "Dreams are what you make of them, chère. Nothing is ever perfect, you just gotta focus on that you have, not what's missing."
"Is that what you do?" she asked.
"It's what I try to do."
Rogue nodded then closed her eyes and raised a hand to rub her temple.
"What?"
"The voices are a little loud, that's all," she said. "Sometimes I wish that they would shut up for a bit. I feel like I'm relying on them a bit too much and if I could just shut them up, I'd remember how I feel and this transition would be a whole lot easier."
"I thought you had your mental barriers in place?"
"I do, but the professor used to help me and without him, they're just not as strong as they used to be, especially the new voices."
"What's it like?" he suddenly asked, curious to know how it felt to share head space with other people.
No one else had ever asked her that before. The professor knew thanks to his telepathy, and she had always assumed that it was a little too close to schizophrenia for her friends to feel comfortable asking. She gave it some thought before replying.
"I suppose it's like having an entourage, I'm never alone and everyone just has to have their say on what I'm doing. Most of the time they're quiet, just whispering in the background and are easy to ignore, but when I've just absorbed someone, it's as real as having a conversation with someone. Plus when my emotions are high, they get louder, as if that fuels them somehow. Right now some of them are loud, but I think that's down to my weak shields, not heightened emotions."
"What do they say?"
"All sorts. Right now, Carol thinks you're hot and is telling me to jump your bones. Tom thinks that's a very bad idea and and doesn't want to watch anything like that. Mark has a crush on you and thinks it's a crime against humanity that you aren't gay. He enjoys teasing Tom, who is slightly homophobic."
"They have conversations among themselves?"
"All the time. It makes them easier to ignore, actually, like tuning out a conversation at the next table."
"And do you ever talk to them?"
"Yeah, but not out loud. Just because I am crazy, doesn't mean I want to look crazy. Sometimes I even ask them for advice. Mostly Logan."
"Why him?"
"Because he's got good instincts. His psyche usually knows when something's wrong. Plus he can shut Kitty up. It's bad enough living with her but to have a constant running cometary in my head on everything from my fashion choices to my love, life gets old real fast."
"What about when they took you over that time?"
"You heard about that?"
Remy nodded.
"That was weird. Normally they're just whispers, like ghosts but then... I don't know, it's like they were real people, and I was just along for the ride, trying to claw my way back to control but they were too strong. I felt like a puppet."
"Thank you." he said with a small smile.
"What for?" Rogue looked confused.
"For trusting me enough to share that. You didn't have to."
"I know, but I wanted to."
"You know, I don't know any psychics, but I do know a kick ass hypnotist. She might be able to help you with the voices."
Rogue smiled. "Yeah, and I'll find myself walking like a chicken every time I hear Lady Gaga playing or something."
"She's not a stage hypnotist," he said, though he laughed at the mental image. "She's a mutant, like us, but hypnotism is her gift. She's good."
"Have you used her?" she asked.
Remy looked away. He didn't like to talk about his past, but she had opened up to him so he supposed that he should open up to her in return. He got out of bed and fetched a torch from a drawer. He turned it on but it emitted a different sort of light to a regular torch. He sat back down on the bed beside her and shone the light at his hands. Under the slightly red beam, Rogue could see a patchwork of scars on his hands and forearms.
"Oh my god, what happened?" she asked, sitting up.
She reached out to touch the web of scar tissue that covered his hand and forearm but stopped herself just in time. She wanted to know what had caused the scars but she didn't want to knock him out. Actually she was surprised that her first reflex had been to reach out and touch them, her first instinct was never to reach out to someone else.
"When my powers first manifested, I couldn't control it. Thankfully my Tante Mattie is a healer and she was able to patch me up each time. You can hardly tell these days."
"But you remember." Rogue added.
Remy nodded.
"Is that why you wear fingerless gloves?"
He nodded again, smiling a little that's she had been sharp enough to catch that.
"Like you, I always wore gloves back then. Half the time to stop me charging anything I touched, the other half so that Tante's salves and creams didn't rub off.
"She did a good job," Rogue said. "I'd never have known."
Remy turned the torch off, put it aside and got back into bed. He turned the bedside light off then turned to face her again.
"But I still can't let go of the gloves," he said. "Not completely."
Rogue understood.
"Anyway, it was getting worse and Tante tracked down this woman, Ginny. She said the problem was my emotions and that I needed to learn to keep calm. After half a dozen sessions, I felt like a new man. I mean sure, I still get angry and sad and all that stuff, but not like I did."
"What were you like?"
"Mostly, not that different but sometimes... it was too much, like a berserker rage or something. I'd sort of wake up sometimes not remembering what I'd done, but something would be broken or someone would be bloody."
"Just rage?" she asked.
"That was the most damaging emotion, the one she said made it hard to control my gift, and she was right. I felt so much better after that, believe it or not. She gave me some exercises to do on my own which helped, and I even started reading some psychology books and working through a few of my issues."
"You had issues?" she teased.
"Still do," he assured her with a laugh. "There's no magic potion but on the whole, I'm happy now."
"Happy?"
"Well, maybe content is a better word."
Rogue was silent for a long time and Remy thought that she might have fallen asleep.
"I can't remember what it feels like to be happy," she admitted.
It was such an guileless statement that it made Remy's heart break. Keeping the sheet between them, his hand sought out hers and he squeezed it.
"I'll remind you, chère."
If it hadn't been for the enhanced night vision that his eyes gave him, he wouldn't have seen the lone tear that crept down her cheek.
"I promise."