Y'all know the dilly yo, that I don't own these characters, marvel or anything else. Blah blah blah
- Takes place after Uncanny X-Men #350. Enough said.
Author's Note: I really don't want to be fucking doing this. I am so pissed off at ff.net. I worked so fucking hard at my other account and built a rather respectable reputation to have it all deleted within a stroke of a key. Fuck this is pissing. At least, I'm fixing up this wretched story of mine. I'm practically re-writing every thing except for the plot. Still pissed off though. Son of a mother-fing btch! Please excuse my frustration.
On a cold clear night in New York City, if one were to look hard enough in the sky, he would see two distinctive streaks of white streaming across the black velvet of a sky. If one were to look even closer, he would realize that the two streaks of white belonged to a beautiful woman who was undoubtedly a mutant. And if one were to have an incredible sense of vision, he would see that the woman's face was stained with tears, evident in the puffiness around her eyes. The woman was simply known to everyone as Rogue.
The sudden noise immediately caused her to turn around, and his name slipped from her mouth even before she could stop herself. "Remy?" As soon as she realized who it was, her eyes filled with disappointed tears as she turned her back on the visitor.
"Sorry, Rogue. It's just me." The visitor also a close friend and teammate of hers apologized.
"Whatever." Rogue muttered as she continued to stare across the vast land before her.
"Been here for a while, darlin?" Logan asked as he took a cigar out from his pocket.
"No." Rogue simply responded.
"Okay then." Logan murmured and lit his cigar. The two friends stood in silence as Rogue hugged herself tighter to generate more heat, while Logan smoked his cigar and blew a few smoke rings.
Finally, Rogue asked, "what are ya doing up here anyway?"
"Just needed some fresh air. Thought I heard a noise up here too. Had a feeling it would be you. So… been looking for the Cajun again?" Logan stated more than asked.
"You don't have to explain, darlin," interrupted Logan. "I know you were. Rogue, this has been the fifth time this week. You're not going to find him."
"And how the hell do ya know that?" Rogue snapped at the short Canadian and glared at him with her intense fiery green eyes.
"Ya can look all ya want, but if he doesn't want to be found. He won't be found. That's one thing I've learned about the Cajun. He wouldn't be a thief if he couldn't hide well." Logan reasoned and took another puff of his cigar.
Logan released a soft sigh as he put out the cigar and took a seat next to her. He placed a comforting arm over her shoulders and pondered for a bit before he said, "Darlin', ya gotta stop blaming yourself for this mess. We could have all went back for him, but we didn't. It's as much our fault as anyone's. And I can't even begin on the pain ya must have felt when you basically experienced the morlock massacre first hand after you absorbed the Cajun. Your mind was messed up from all that hurt. You couldn't think straight. It's not your fault. And Gambit ain't dead. You would feel it if he was, and I'm sure you don't feel it just yet. If you did, you wouldn't go looking for him every night. So, please, darlin' just stop blaming yourself and get some rest. Gumbo will come home when he's good and ready."
After hearing Logan's comforting words, Rogue leaned her head on Logan's shoulder as the flow of her tears eventually subsided. Her breathing became regular once more and she pulled back from Logan to stare into his soft brown eyes. "Thank ya, Wolvie. Ah really need that." She expressed her gratitude and gave him a small smile.
Logan returned the sentiment by smiling in return. "Anytime, hun. Always here when ya need me."
"Sometimes, ah forget that but ah'll try to remember that from now on." Rogue responded.
"Good. Now are you coming or not?" Logan asked as he got up on to his feet and extended a hand for her to take.
Rogue didn't make an effort to budge as she continued to sit on the rooftop while gazing across the darkness. "Not yet. Ah will in a second though. Right now, Ah just need t'get mah head straight, if that's okay?"
"It's more than okay. Take all the time ya need, darlin. I'll see ya later." Logan said and left the same way he appeared from.
In actuality, it would be a good while before Rogue found the strength to leave the rooftop and return to her room.
It was half-past twelve when Rogue finally flew through her bedroom window. She knew that Kitty Pryde's room was next to hers, and that Kitty was a light sleeper. Thus, that explained why Rogue never landed on the floor as she opted to hover a few inches above it instead. She floated towards her dresser and opened it to grab some items for her shower. When her change of clothes was in hand, she glided towards her door but her hand pulled back from the doorknob when she heard two voices whispering on the other side. Not wanting to disturb whoever they were that were speaking outside her door, Rogue opted to lean closer to the door and eavesdrop on whoever's conversation she was listening to.
"I'm sure I saw him, we need to tell her." Whispered the unmistakable voice of Kitty Pryde.
"You are not a hundred percent sure that it was him. It could have been a man that resembled him. And even if it was him, is it our place to inform her? We do not know if he even wants to see any of us X-Men anymore, let alone her. We don't know his plans. We don't know what he's doing now. We are not sure of anything. Thus, it would be careless of us to inform her and get her hopes up when we aren't even a hundred percent positive that it is him and that he does want to see her." Ororo reasoned as rationally as she could.
Rogue pressed her ear against the door and listened even more intently. She had a hunch that they were referring to her and Remy. She couldn't shake the feeling that they might have found him. But at the same time, she didn't want to barge into their conversation unless she knew for sure that was whom they were talking about. That was why she opted to eavesdrop instead.
"We can't keep this from her. She needs to know. Have you see how messed up she has become? Maybe this will resolve whatever they had." Kitty rationalized.
"Or it could just make the situation more painful and unnecessary. We do not know if he even wants to see her after what she did to him. Then, there's a matter of Rogue. We tell her now, she'll fly down there and look for him. What if you have mistaken another person for him? We would only add to her disappointment and hurt." Ororo argued back.
"Then what do you suggest we do?" Kitty asked.
"I suggest that we go on a little mission down there and see if it really is Remy. If he is, we'll tell Rogue. If he isn't, Rogue wouldn't have had her hopes up for nothing." Ororo advised.
"Fine, we'll do it your way. The last thing I would want to do is put Rogue over the edge." Kitty agreed. The two women walked away from Rogue's room while Rogue finally landed on to the floor with her feet. She was completely speechless at this point. She knew whom it was that they were talking about. She knew that if they had told her right then and there, there would have been no hesitation to fly down to wherever he was and confront him. But, they hadn't told her and that was the small difference in the whole situation.
The last thing she wanted was to have her hopes crushed, and Kitty was right when she said that she would be more than disappointed if it wasn't Remy. Then, Ororo made the point that he probably didn't even want to see her. After all, it was her that had let him fall to his death. It was her who had told him that she loved him unconditionally only to throw him away as if he meant nothing to her at all. What right could she possibly have to barge into his life again? She had no explanation for what she had done. She had no incentive. She would only bring up the pain that might have already subsided in his heart. Basically, she would only hurt him more and that was something she didn't want.
The clothes in her hand fell to the ground as she walked back towards her bed. She took off her uniform and allowed it to slip off her body. Then she reached for the oversize black t-shirt that hung off the right post of her bed. She slipped it on and hugged it tight, while smelling the scent that he always exerted – a mixture of spices and cigarettes. The tears formed once again and a sigh escaped her lips. She climbed into bed and threw the covers over herself.
Suddenly, she felt rather cold.