A/N: I give everyone permission to kill me. I put this story on hiatus, and I never officially announced so. And, then I got an idea for a new story, and started working on that. I 'm very sorry, but this story has been a little hard to write. Again, I hope everybody isn't too angry with me, because I really hate that, but yeah, that's it. I'm actually really groveling to get to get my old fans back lol. And to Anna Marie, which by the way, I like your name, I did not ditch this story totally, I just felt like something new. But thanks for propelling me to write again.
Here it is. I got this up a day before I intended to :-) Reviews are very welcome
IMPULSE: n.1. a) An impelling force; an impetus b) The motion produced by such a force. 2. A sudden wish or urge that prompts an unpremeditated act or feeling; an abrupt inclination: had an impulse to run away; an impulse of regret that made me hesitate. 3. A motivating force or tendency: "Respect for the liberty of others is not a natural impulse in most men" (Bertrand Russell). adj. Characterized by impulsiveness or acting on impulse
Sometimes you act without thinking. It's very natural. Many people do it, and normally, it makes perfect sense, until after you have done the act, where upon you go: 'What the hell have I done?'
This had never happened to Remy LeBeau.
And it wasn't likely that it was going to. He tore down the streets, with the wind whooshing past in great gulps, under the weary gray sky, which had melted together, clouds, stars and dust to erase nearly all sights of the moon, which still shone yellowier than ever. Every dark tree was unrecognizable from the one before, and he silently thanked that turbo button, that should allow him to reach first. It was a cold, hard night, and unconsciously began to wonder if she had managed all right.
To earn Remy's trust, was very hard, and to be fair enough, it was hard for him to earn the trust of others. So, as soon as the Professor had announced her whereabouts – not before, of course, thanking the beauty of Cerebro- he basically ran. He didn't care that he still wasn't completely recovered. He didn't care that he had stolen one of Scott Summer's prized possessions, because he was on a mission (and also the fact that he didn't really like Cyclops). He didn't know what was going on with Marie, or why she left, and, merde, sometimes it felt as if he didn't understand her at all, but he knew had had to bring her back. And he was going to. No matter what had to be done.
In the meantime, Scott Summers paused in the vast garage of the X-Mansion. He turned around, scanning the room fitfully.
"What?" Storm turned, slightly impatient.
"Where's my motorcycle?"
Marie cast an anxious look around, and made sure her cloak was in place. She tried to relax on the plush red seats but couldn't settle. The train was half full, but people were still arriving onboard, storing away bags and suitcases, chatting softly. In a corner a child cried, and on the other side she smelt a strong stench of cologne and coffee. The train station was filled too, and usually it would entertain her, to look at the strangers and wonder about their lives. But not this time. Not now. She didn't know what to do, or what was going to happen. Yes, Logan had come after her before, but would Remy? And, if he did, she had no idea what she was going to tell him, or what she could tell him or if he would believe her. She knew all about him now, she knew his power, she knew his history, though the blanks throughout were quite strange, and she more importantly knew so far, he had been true to her. It was easy to claim to herself that she never doubted him, but it was impossible for her to believe so.
And she had to be here. Or did she? God, she did not like that Sophia one bit,or the mystery of her, but it was the only advice she had, and it was the only direction given and, oh, she was confused. Already she was beginning to regret. It could have been easier to see Xavier. This had better work, because if it did not, instead of living in this messed up world, she'd probably end up earning a grave there.
In a seat close by, she saw a woman and her son, and immediately turned away. Marie who had seen it before, did not want to rack her somewhat weakened composure. But she did begin to wonder how Jack and Sarah were doing, and when she would be able to see them again. If she ever got back the first thing she would do, she decided, would be to pay a visit to them.
"Chere?" A familiar voice said, and she could not help but smile in relief at the reliability of the past . Remy walked up, dressed in his usual dark clothes under alarge trenchcoat, and sat down next to her. She looked away, but her eyes were drawn back to his. Yet, she could not see past the black density of the sunglasses.
"I'm sorry about last night," he said, and he meant it, she could tell.
But then where had she heard that before?
"Me too," Marie answered softly. A smile twitched on his lips, as he if thought success! If only he knew.
Marie did not say anymore, and purposely turned her body away.
"Rogue," he said very firmly, and she jumped upon hearing the name, "Remy 'as been honest wit' y'so far, and 'e dinks y'could do de 'onour 'of the same."
Marie shook her head and spoke, though still looking out the window, "Ah have been honest with you. Ah've told you the truth so far. Maybe not all of it, but Ah have kept my word," She pursued her lips and turned, "Why did you bother coming, anyway?"
He shrugged, "Just in the neighborhood," He grinned, and bumped in her shoulder slightly, trying to get a smile out of her, even when it was becoming very hard for him to do so too. What hadn't she told him?
But there was no such luck, in guaranteeing a smile from Marie. He could sense there was something uneasy about her, something very restless in fact, which worried him. And then not even a moment later she just snapped, and began ranting, catching them both by surprise.
"Everything is so fucked up!" she whispered angrily, her eyes blazing, "Everything! Did Ah tell you the first boy Ah ever kissed was in a come for three weeks! Ya know, it's just like before, Ah can feel him in mah head and – and it's the same with you!"
Remy frowned, confused, and bit his lip, though silently thanking for his quick miraculous recovery. Marie's voice shook, but she went on all the same.
"And, hell, Ah'm not even supposed tah be here, god dammit. Then, of course, Ah have you, following me everywhere like a freaking lost puppy, and Ah, then, have no fucking idea of how tah get back! What the hell am Ah supposed to go, come on! God, why? Ah'll probably never see anyone again! No Logan, no Kitty no Storm or Scott, not even Bobby! It's fucked!"
She banged her hands angrily on the chair in front of her, and shook. She had to blink several times, but there was no way she was going to break down crying in front of Remy. Yet, it was harder than it had ever been before, to not cry, and she had a feeling already she was losing the battle.
For a moment, Remy just stared at her, dark glasses gleaming and brow furrowed but being Remy, he quickly recovered, almost like a magician, and smiled, "Petite," He gently grabbed her arm, and pulled her towards the seat, "I want to help you."
Still ashamed from her previous in front of him, she still recognized the importance of the loss of the accent, "You can't."
Remy spread his hands in desperation, "You ain't lettin' me," his voice sharpened, "Y'aren't even delling Remy de truth!"
"Ah'm from the future," Marie suddenly announced.
"Ah'm from the three years in the future," she continued, quite calmly. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, "But Ah think from another timeline or universe or whatever, because you weren't there. And this has already happened, but not with you, and not like this. Everything's different too, but very similar at the same time. You know, Ah just woke up one day and ended up here, so Ah don't know much about this all, and Ah really don't know how tah get back."
"Okay," Remy said faintly, "Okay," and she wasn't totally sure if he understood completely. But he ruffled his hair, and sat up firmly. One of the many things about Remy LeBeau, was that appearances weren't everything – though granted they were something – and he had the ability of putting others first, even when himself did not understand. It was something most would like to claim, and dare to, but it was rare to find someone that truly could act upon.
So, he put a hand around her shoulder, and then for once she didn't shake him off. Marie rested her head on his shoulder, still so very confused and still so very embarrassed. She had never ever broken down like that in front of anyone before, besides Logan, she guessed, but the thing was, there was not a better person she could think of.
"Dere's not too many people w'o will understand w'at you're goin' t'rough," He said softly, "But Remy is one of them," He paused for a second, as if complementing something, "And so's the Professor, o'course."
Marie stifled a giggle before she could stop herself, and he tightened his grip, and went on.
" 'e seems t'want to help you. And dat's a rare thing, petite. For people like us," He added somewhat darkly, and sighed heavily.
There was a clanging sound, and Marie shook and pulled away, as the train slowly rolled out of the station.
"W'at do y'dink?" Remy looked at her.
She looked at him strangely, because in that moment before, the comfort was all she needed, not the confirmation, "You heard the whole future thing, right?"
"Oui," He face seemed to darken slightly, and she thought she imagined it, for the next second, his face was back to its normal state "But first things first. We go back to de mansion."
She shrugged, but her stomach tightened. Marie could imagine a clock silently ticking away.
"Remy'll take care o'you," he smiled slightly, misreading the look on her pale face, "No need fo' us de be 'ere, right?"
Perhaps he said the wrong thing, or the girl truly was crazy, for, Marie suddenly swore, and beat her hands to her face, "Oh, no. Oh, fuck!"
Remy opened his mouth, but then was a loud jolt, and they were all thrust forward, and they could hear the train screeching, and she could see orange sparks jumping from the tracks, before they were all lurched violently again. Luggage clanged to the floor, people slid and some even screamed in panic, as the lights flickered on and off, before finally plunging them all to darkness.
Then that damn metal suitcase became to move, and even as Remy stood up, looking around wildly, she knew how it was going to end.
In the mansion, on the very lower levels, Bobby Drake knelt down in a gleaming corridor, and looked around carefully. His eyes turned golden, and then melted and stretched into the aging eyes of the Professor, as the blue laser scanned for identification.
"Welcome, Professor," The computer said manually, in that sterile feminine voice, and the doors slid apart, leaving the circular entrance free, and the path to Cerebro empty. Bobby walked forward, and as he did, his clothes dissolved into his skin, which turned sickly blue, scales protruding , and his body transformed into one of a woman.
Then Mystique had to smile. Sometimes the simplest ideas were the best ones. She slithered onwards with purpose.
It was time.