Rogue’s emerald eyes fluttered open. Dazed, she looked around the room with clouds in front of her eyes. The room she was in made her gut wrench. It was a torture chamber, no doubt about it. Implements all around the room were sharp, on in some cases, painfully blunt, and many pairs of shackles, a pair of which held her, and, she saw;
“Bishop!” She hissed, noticing the big man chained to the wall. He took no notice of her, didn’t stir... then Rogue saw why. His neck was bleeding, a trail of blood streming down his neck like a tear. Startled, as Rogue twisted around to look behind her, she felt her own neck sticky and wet. She remembered why she had blacked out. She remembered Remy’s inhuman kiss, and then the sharpness against her neck.
Oh mah gawd... she thought, and she felt tears dripping down her face. Remy... mah Remy... mah love. With a flame of anger burning in her eyes, she added, Ah’ll kill that bitch fo’ what she’s done! Struggling against the chains, she found her powers gone. She couldn’t break the chains, and without Ga... Storm, she couldn’t pick her way out of them. Clenching her teeth in frustration, she looked desperatly around the room, for something that would help her get free.
There was a table in the centre of the room, on it were knives, thumbscrews, pokers, and other things, that, with a little imagination, could be used for torture. Or to make people bleed... Shaking that thought from her head, she swung her legs, which had been left free, to try on knock something off the table which might help her. She swung several times, each time seemingly coming closer to it. But it was useless.
Gawd-damnit! She cursed, and with a sigh, admitted to herself that she wasn’t going to get free. Not without help. Looking around the room again, she started to smile -- Logan wasn’t there. Perhaps he had gotton free and gone to get the other X-Men. She hoped that, with all her heart. They would free her and Bishop, and Gambit, and they’d get out of there, and help Remy get back to normal...
For a while, she just hung there, occasionally trying to free herself from her chains, occasionally trying to wake Bishop. Neither worked, but nothing bad happened either. Rogue hadn’t realised before how boring being held captive really was. She blew a lock of her out of the way, and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. Frowning, she twisted her head, trying to see, ignoring the pain in her neck. As she recognised the man watching her so intently, with his demonic eyes glowing crimson, she stared at him. Now she felt again what she’d felt when she’d seen him near the theatre. Something wasn’t right. Almost as though.... he had a field around him, an aura that... gave off wierd vibes? It made things hard. Things like thinking...
“R-remy?” She stammered, struggling to get the word out.
His smile then turned more natural, more suave, and she inexplicably felt herself relax, and want his kiss again. She knew it was insane, but there it was. She even tried to fight the feeling, but it was impossible. He was too close. And the way he was looking at her... it gave her no choice but to do what he wanted.
Without a word, Remy sauntered up to her, his eyes never once leaving hers. As she gazed back into his, her resistance melted away as easily as ice on a hot stove. She lost her muscle control, couldn’t have struggled if she tried. Remy’s lips touched hers, softly. That was it. Whatever mystical aura it was he had, it dominated her. She couldn’t fight, and as he began to kiss her, it became the last thing on her mind. His hands ran down her body, thru her hair... she sighed in pleasure. Remy stepped back, keeping eye contact, Rogue felt his dominition on her weaken, though not enough for her to want to struggle. All thoughts were sluggish, and never reached their end. Thinking then dissipated from her bewildered brain, and she gave in to the need for his touch.
He smiled again, and even though it was probably meant to be calm and relaxing, it would have, if only Rogue wasn’t entranced, disconcerting at the least, as it was, however, she could only smile, woth glazed over eyes, as he entwined his legs with hers, and continued to kiss her, their bodies as close as possible, to have the more control over her. Rogue couldn’t stop him. Hell, with the way he was making her feel, she didn’t want him to, and she couldn’t have resisted even if she’d wanted to. Remy soon had her top unzipped down to her waist, his fingers running all over her body, feeling like wildfire, he stopped, and looked over at where Bishop hung, seemingly unconcious, murder in his eyes.
Stepping back from Rogue, he picked up a sharp, but slim stilleto knife from the table. Walking with silent steps over to Bishop, Rogue shook her head again, confused and afraid, and watched what happened; as he neared Bishop, Remy picked up a wine glass from the edge of the table, and stood in front of the shackled Bishop, arms folded, eyes narrowed.
“Stop the pretence.” Were his only words, and Rogue was startled by the threat in that strange, ancient voice. Bishop didn’t move. Delicately raising an eyebrow, Remy’s leg snapped out and smacked into Bishop’s, with a sickening *crack*. Bishop opened his eyes then, and gasped in pain. Rogue’s eyes widened in horror, as she saw the bone had ripped thru the muscle of Bishop’s leg, dripping blood onto the cold stone floor. Shaking, she looked at Remy, who only sneered, and faster than it takes to tell, slashed the stilleto at Bishop’s wrist, and filled the glass with blood. Bishop trembled, and blacked out. Rogue wasn’t surprised. She was almost in shock herself. To see this man, whom she loved with all her heart and soul, hurt his friend like this, without a care... Rogue faught back a wave of nausea as Remy knocked back the blood, then filled the glass again. Apparently satisfied, after three glasses, he walked over to Rogue again, and smiled.
This time, the smile didn’t work.
“Oh, God...” She breathed, on the verge of tears. “Remy, he... he’s ya friend...” She stammered.
Remy snorted, grinning lasciviously at her. “He ain’ nev’ been a friend t’ me. Now, maybe... do y’ consider a sheep y’ friend after a lamb chop?”
A sob broke out from Rogue, and she pressed her back into the wall as he came near to her again. Entwining his legs with hers, kissing her cheek, her neck, he muttered to her. “Hmm, chere, he’s not as tasty as you.” He licked her neck, wracking Rogue’s body with more sobs. “Ohhhhh, je t’aimmmeeee....” he drawled.
“Yeah,” he struggled to say thru the tears. “F’ dinnah. Ya bastard... ah’ll kill her foah what she’s done ta ya.”
Remy merely laughed, as though her death threat was amusing him, and then he was kissing her again. Trying to pull back, she found it useless, he just pressed his hands against the back of her head and wouldn’t let go. He pulled back, and licked his lips. “Rogue, don’ y’ see? Hadea gave me a won’ful gift. It’s beautiful...” He lay his head against her neck, so he could feel her pulse, and smiled. “Where there is the strength of blood flow, I can feel you. Ev’t’in’ ‘bout you. Y’ pain, y’ fears...” He looked up. “Y love an’ desire f’ me.”
Rogue shook her head, tears flowing freely. “Not you,” she whispered. “Mah Remy. The man who cared for me, who loved me.”
Remy shook his head, grasping her shoulders. “Rogue, I do love you! It’s just so different...” He paused, looking into her eyes. “I want t’ share dis gift wit’ y’...” He pulled close to her again. “Dis way we can be t’gether f’ever.”
“NOOO!!!!” sceamed Rogue. “No!!! Afta what ya did ta Bishop, mah gawd, he’s probably dead, how can ah love ya now!?!”
Remy shook his head again, and stared at her. “I’m de same person! I’m... I’m better than I was!! I wanna love y’ like I nev’ could b’fore!” He cried. In a quieter voice, he continued. “Rogue, we can touch. Our bodies, an’ our minds. We can become one...” At the end of the sentance, his voice had dropped to a whisper. “We can ‘ave kids, chere.”
Rogue stopped crying, she realised she was wasting her tears -- they wouldn’t change anything. “Vampire children? Ah don’t think so, Remy. Ah don’t think so. Ah... ah loved the man that was Remy LeBeau. Not you. Never you. Never.”
Remy stopped, staring at her. If she didn’t know better, she could swear she could see his heart breaking in his eyes. She didn’t know what he’d have done, then -- begged her, hit her, kissed her -- if Hadea had not shown up. But she did, and she was furious. It seemed she didn’t like sharing her men.
Remy turned, sensing her. Rogue could see the hurt in his eyes, and was confused. How what is that he could care so little about Bishop, yet care so much about her? Did love transcend all levels? She shook her head, she didn’t want to go there, and watched what went on before her.
Hadea stalked up to the table, her black eyes flashing. She didn’t come towrd them any further, though, she stopped, and set a hand on the table. She forced a smile, probably meant to comfort, and put at ease. Though, Rogue was not comforted in the slightest, and she saw Remy’s body tense as he watched her every movement, like a hawk.
“What are you doing with the girl?” Asked the vampire, her voice sweet as poison.
Remy’s eyes never left her, and he answered her with the truth. “I wan’ed t’ be wit’ her. Forever.” His words were a challenge, which Rogue was very afraid Hadea would rise up to.
“And me?” Her voice oozed honey.
Remy looked at her, then his shoulders drooped. “I love her. But you... I owe dis life t’ you. I would do anyt’in’-- anyt’in’ -- you asked me too.”
Hadea smiled wickidly. “Then feed on her. Slowly. As dessert...” she muttered, looking at Bishop, still bleeding. She knelt down beside him, and took his wrist in her mouth. Gesturing for Remy to join her, he did so after a pause, and a whisper of; “I’m sorry, Rogue. I did give y’ de choice.”
Watching as Remy’s fangs sunk into Bishop’s other wrist, she started to cry. It might be hopeless. It might not help. She didn’t care any more. This was how she was going to die, then, she wondered? As food for the only man she’d ever loved? It wasn’t fair. Nothing in her life was. She hung there, eyes closed, until she heard someone approahing. Opening her red-rimmed eyes, she sniffed, and saw and took in Hadea’s evil grin without reaction. She didn’t react when Hadea dug her fangs deeply into her hand. All she did was stare at Remy. Her eyes pleaded with him. If any part of him was still her Remy, he wouldn’t do it. An expression of pain on his face, his walked up, and stroked her hair. He mouthed an apology, then closed his eyes and bit into her throat.
Rogue wimpered, and lay her head against Remy’s, who held her, trying to comfort her, though he still drank from her. And Rogue knew then that his tie to Hadea was to strong for her to break. Even if she had taken up his offer of ‘new life’, she would have always have taken second place to his maker. He was damned.
And now, she thought, as her conciousness faded, so am I...
Rogue was not concious to see what happened next, and it was just as well. It would have broken her heart. Remy’s head snapped ‘round, as his sensitive hearing picked up a scraping noise outside the door. But before he could move, Logan, looking like death warmed up, slammed thru the door, followed by Storm, and Jean. With a growl any loup-garou would have been proud of, Wolverine hurled himself thru the air, and landed with his claws thru Hadea’s chest.
“NOOO!!!!” Screamed Remy, and he kicked Logan off of her. To stop him pouncing again, Remy threw him to the floor, then turned to help Hadea. He saw that she wasn’t there, and frowned. Looking at the enterance to the dungeon, he saw Storm half-sitting, half-lying on the floor, rubbing her head. Logan saw her too.
“’Ro?”
“She... she exited thru here. I shall follow.” She decided, getting to her feet unsteadily.
“No darlin’. Go an’ help Red get Bish out of here. We can get her later.” He said, looking at Remy, who stared right back.
“But...”
“Do you wanna see this?” He asked, looking back at her thru the corner of his eye. Remy also looked at her, and saw a tear stream down her chocolate cheek.
“No. No, I do not.” She started to go, her lip quivering. Then she turned, and looked back at her friends. “Logan... good luck. And Remy... I love you... brother.” With that said, she left.
Remy stared after her, all thoughts of Logan, Hadea, or anyone else stricken from his mind. For his deepest loves truly did transcend all levels. And Storm had always been like a beloved sister to him, though they had never said anything aloud. Until then. She had never called him ‘brother’ before. She given that name to Piotr, he knew, he had heard her call him it many times. But never to him. It meant more to him than he could ever say, and it startled him out of the anger brought about by Hadea’s wounding than anything else could have done.
“I loved you too, little sister,” he whispered, though she was out of sight, and hearing.
He looked over at the pool of blood where Bisop had been, and winced. “Make sure Bishop’s okay f’ me.” He begged Logan, who nodded, watching the Cajun for sudden moves. “Tell Stormy how much I love her...” he turned around, a tear streaming down his cheek. “Roguie,” he whispered, and held her, sobbing. Slumping to the floor, he looked at Logan. “Will she ever forgive me?” He asked.
“I know she will, kid.”
“I love her. I love her so much it hurts. I have to leave her?” He asked, the last of his hopes into that sentance.
“Yer know I can’t let you go. If I did, you’d only hurt her ‘gain.”
Remy wanted to argue, he would never hurt his Roguie... But he knew it wasn’t the truth. He had already hurt her -- he’d fed on her, for God’s sake! How could she ever forgive him? All he knew was that if Logan let him go, when he found Hadea again, she’d send him to kill Rogue, and he’d do it. He wouldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t.
“Do it.” He whispered. Popping his claws out, without a word, Logan stabbed him thru the heart. With a gasp of pain as he drew them out again, Remy fell back, clutching his chest. Logan knelt down beside him, a look of sorrow on his face.
“I’m sorry, kid. Rest in peace.” Remy managed a smile, as his blood pooled on the floor behind him. With his claws, Logan popped the lock on the manacles that held Rogue prisoner, and she fell to the floor.
Feeling herself hit the stone floor, Rogue slowly woke up, feeling dizzy from blood-loss. But, as she moved her hand so she could lever herself up, she stopped cold. Her hand was in something warm, sticky, and all too probably red. Forcing her eyes open, she screamed when she saw who it was.
“REMY!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!” She cried, throwing herself onto his body. With his last reserves of strength, Remy put his arms around her, and whispered, thru his drowning lungs;
“Je t’aime toujours, mon amant. Avoir heureux...”
“Ah cain’t... not without you...” She stopped as his chest stilled. “No. No. Please, God, no, this isn’t happening. Please...” She begged, weeping. “No!! NO!!!!!!” She sat up, pulling Remy’s body with her. “No!” She wept.
Wolverine clenched his jaw, and pulled her away from him. Without her powers, it was easy, though she tried to resist. He pulled her to his chest, where she slammed her fists against him, and cried freely for her love.
After a while, she passed out, from shock. Logan looked up at the door, to see Jean standing there. Without a word, she came to him, and held him. It was not often that Logan was upset about killing, but this time he was. he had always thought that Remy and Rogue would make up, get married, and have three or four beautiful children. And now, he knew they would have -- their love was stronger than anything he had encountered... but not death. Death, the only friend to the lonely, only charity to the poor, and the only thing that could shatter true love.
Picking Rogue up with a TK shield, she took Logan’s hand, and helped him from the floor.
“Come on. Let’s go home.”
********
The day of Remy Etienne LeBeau’s funeral came around. Rogue had put it upon
herself to sort everything out with Remy’s father. They had together decided to have
him buried in the X-Men’s graveyard -- he had died as an X-Man, and it saved
arguing with the people in the Thieves Guild who never wanted Gambit in New
Orleans again, alive or dead. The X-Men and the LeBeau clan where the only guests,
and the preacher was a cousin of Tante Mattie, the closest thing Remy had to a
mother. Jean-Luc and the rest of the clan were welcome to visit anytime they liked to
the usuallt sacred-to-X-teams only cemetary. Rogue and Jean-Luc both ound the
agreements to be satisfactory.
Rogue brushed her long auburn hair, not concentrating on the act. She had been quite surprised at how much Jean-Luc cared for Remy. She had asked him to come to New York on an urgent matter, and she guessed he had been fearing the worst. Tears had rolled down his face when he saw his adoptive son’s cold, grey face in the X-Men’s mourge, and he whispered soomething in French that Rogue didn’t quite catch,but sounded like “now you’ve stolen all my sons, God”, and the words brought tears to Rogue’s eyes.
She remembered, the next day, sorting the funeral arrangements. Jean-Luc had grabbed her hand, and looked into her eyes.
“You loved m’ son, dint y’?” He’d asked.
With a slight nod, Rogue proudly answered in the affirmative.
With a sad smile and a nod, Jean-Luc said; “I’m glad someone did. I only wish ‘e’d met you b’fore Belladonna...” He’d looked away, but Rogue had seen the tears welled up.
Letting out a deep sigh, Rogue bit her lip, and climbed into the Armani suit Remy had bought her for her last birthday. He said she was more beautiful than ever in it. That was why she was wearing it, as well as the fact that it suited the occasion; it was black velvet. She put it on over her black pullover, and tied her hair back. She only bothered with a little make-up -- Remy had always told her that was how he liked her best.
Rogue hugged herself, and as a tear fell down her cheek, she thanked God for
waterproof mascara. It was amazing how much it hurt not having him near. Sure,
she’d been thru it before -- on the roadtrip, she hadn’t seen him for weeks, but she
knew he was alive, except for slight irrational twinges of fear. And when she’d left
him in Seattle to start a normal life, she knew he was there if she wanted to go back.
But now... she’d never see him again. Never hear his seductive accent. Never see that
debonair smile. Never taste his lips... she nearly fell apart then. Just stopping herself
from falling to the floor and screaming at the pain in her chest, she grabbed her
flowers -- three dozen red roses -- for Remy’s grave, and left.
**********
It was a beautiful funeral, everyone agreed. Right until the service started, it had been
an unseasonably fine day, though everyone understood exactly why it had started
rainning, and threw respectful glances at Ororo. Rogue had broken down near the
start of the service, and Tante Mattie had held her as she cried, ignoring her own pain
and tears.
Jean-Luc had also cried freely, ignoring his status in the clan. Indeed, most of the clan knew and loved Remy, and showed their sorrow.
At the end, Rogue, Storm, Logan, Jean-Luc, Tante Mattie and Remy’s cousin, Lapin, and his wife Cheryl, stayed behind, in the pouring rain. It suited their moods perfectly, and no-one would have the heart to ask Storm to turn it off anyway. Rogue lay down her flowers, and kissed the headstone.
“Ah know you can see me,” she whispered, inaudiable to everyone except Logan, who kindly didn’t listen, “An’ Ah love you, Remy Etienne LeBeau, an’ don’t you ferget it! Wait foh me, mah love. Just as Ah’ll wait foh you.” She didn’t stand. Kneeling thee in the grass, she didn’t have the heart to get up. There was no point, that she could see.
With a last look at the headstone, she ran her fingers across it, then stood and turned. She looked at each person there. Logan, her old friend and sparing partner, Remy’s soulmate, sharing almost identical hopes. Storm, probably her best friend in the X-Men, and, she knew, Remy’s best friend, other than herself. Jean-Luc, the man who had cared for Remy when he had no reason to. Tante Mattie, who loved Remy best of all the children she had cared for. Lapin and Cheryl, who met because of Remy. Taking a deep breath, she told her intentions.
“Ah’m gonna kill the bitch that did this.” Looking from one person to another, they all nodded, even Tante Mattie and Ororo, whom Rogue thought might have been the ones to argue with her. Jean-Luc even came up to her and embraced her.
“You an’ Remy might not ‘ave been married, but y’ll always be too me. Ya’ve helped me so much dese last few day’s, Rogue... t’ank you.” She excepted his embrace, and returned it.
“Yoah welcome.”
Eventually, everyone left except for Logan and Rogue. Rogue was going to be the last one to leave, she decided that as soon as she’d started the arrangements. Not that it was a chore to stay -- despite the rain, she felt no desire to go, even though her hair was dripping, her velvet suit ruined. As Logan put a hand on her shoulder, she turned to look at him, and was surprised that he didn’t meet her eyes.
“Rogue,” he began. “I... I have t’ ask. Yer... yer don’t blame me fer this, do ya?”
“Oh, no! Of course not, Logan!” She cried, and embraced him, more for her own sake than his. “Ah only blame Hadea... ahnd mahself.” Logan pulled back and looked at her, so she explained. “Ah... Ah’d been arguin’ with Remy. That’s why he went out... an’ didn’t come home...” She didn’t wipe her tears away.
“The Cajun didn’t blame you, darlin’.”
Rogue nodded. “Ah know. But ah feel, if ah was the one that made Hadea able ta hurt him, ah can at least be the one to stop her killin’ again.”
Logan nodded. He knew the feeling well, as well as the other she wasn’t mentioning -- revenge. “Let me help yer, kid. We’ll ffind her t’gether. An’ this time, we’ll make sure she’d dead.”
“Alraht, Logan.” She answered, “Alraht.” She watched as Logan started to walk off, then turned around.
“You comin’?”
“In a minute.” She whispered, staring at Remy’s headstone. Kneeling down next to it again, she wiped the water off it. Tilting her head down, her eyes closed, Rogue started talking. “Sugah? It’s me, Rogue. Though, ah guess ya knew that. Ah hope ya were watching t’day. Did ya know how much so many people loved ya? Ah’m proud a ya, ya must a made them happy.” Rogue smiled, and stroked the stone. “Ya made me happy. Though with all the arguin’, an’ the shoutin’ an’ the hurtin’, ah kinda forgot that. ‘Mazin’ what hindsight c’n do...” With a sigh, she continued. “Logan kept his promises ta ya. ‘Ro knows how much ya love her. Bishop’s gonna be fahn, with a l’il physio. An’ me, well, ah forgive you, though ah dunno what ya wanted me ta forgive ya fer.
“Now, ah’ve got ta keep mah promise ta you, that ah ‘heard’ when mah pulse was against yoah fadin’ one... Ah’ll get you yoah revenge. An’, ah’ll be happy. Je t’aime, Remy. Toujours.”
~Finis~