Summary: Sequel to Sickly Rogue, Annoying Cajun. This time Remy gets sick and Rogue willfully volunteers to take care of him. Humor/Romance ROMY!

Disclaimer: I own no Marvel Characters, simple huh?

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Chapter 1

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Remy had opened his eyes to a brief glimpse of light behind his curtain and moaned. It was too bright for him and he turned over slugging the covers over his head. He felt like crap. His eyes were puffy, nose was stuffy, and he coughed continuously. Musta caught what mon chere had earlier. She wasn' kiddin' when she said she was sick. Poor amour. Gambit thought to himself silently. He then heard a knock on the door.

"Remy sugah, yah in theah? Yah said we were goin' shoppin' taday." Came a familiar southern voice. It filled his heart with joy that it was her, but then he got very upset because his illness meant he couldn't spend a lot of time with Rogue today. Near Christmas, and he gets sick. What are the odds?

"Remy no' feelin' good amour...be bes' if y' stay outside." He said all stuffed up, his accent thicker from his dry mouth.

Just as he finished the sentence the door opened and he heard footsteps come closer to the bed and the blanket was immediately thrown from his head. "Oh mah, sugah. Yah look like somethin' tha cat dragged in."

"Did de cat have claws chere?" He mumbled indistinctly.

"Bah tha looks o' it, he had a few friends."

"Not." Ahhh-chooo! " Nice...chere." He sniffled, turned over and grabbed some tissues. He blew his nose very loudly and sighed. "Remy feel like merde Roguey...sorry I can' take y' non where amour." Remy then bent over the side of the bed and coughed violently. Rogue looked at him sadly and sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his bare back lovingly.

"It's okay Cajun. Didn' expect yah ta. Ah'm gonna get yah bettah sugah." She kept her hand moving in circular motions as Remy continued to cough. "Shh...sugah."

"Remy not feelin' too hot chere."

"Though' yah fel' hot all tha time sugah." She giggled.

"S'not funny..." He turned to her, his face pale...she got real worried as she felt his forehead.

"Mah Gawd! Remy yo' burnin' up!"

"Not s' loud chere." He responded with a groan. "Remy got on' hell o' a headache."

"Don' move no where, Rem. Ah'm gonna go down ta tha infirmary real quick an' grab some thin's."

"Like Remy has much o' a choice, cherie." Remy responded, blowing his nose again. "Not like he can go..." Cough-cough. "...non where."

He watched her retreating form as she left his room. "Mon Dieu..." Cough-cough-cough. "Now Remy knows wut de inside o' a shoe feel like."

All of the sudden he felt nauseous and fell back against his pillows. Dis is ridiculous. He sighed, rubbing a hand against his face. It really didn't help much because they were cold, clammy, and sweaty. The nausea hit him again and he struggled to stand. Getting a firm grip on his end-table, he heaved himself up slowly, but even that turned out to be a mistake as he fell back on the bed. The instant rush shot more to his stomach and all he could do was grab his trashcan and hurl into it. Wut did Gambit do t' deserve dis? He asked himself as he chucked once more into the now offending bin.

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Rogue quickly looked around the med bay for anything and everything that would help out Remy. Sighing she grabbed about five boxes of tissues, a whole bunch of medications so she could read the symptoms, vapor rub, thermometer, and a couple wash cloths.

"Now ta go ta tha kitchen an' get some crackers, soup...an' thin's. Ah hope Remy's doin' alrigh'." She sighed and grabbed up her bag quickly and headed for the elevator. Making her way to the kitchen she grabbed a pack of saltines from the cabinet and rushed upstairs as fast as her legs could carry her.

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Meanwhile Remy finally made it to the bathroom as he funneled up the contents of his stomach once more, which this time was practically nothing. A few more dry heaves and he flushed setting the lid down and leaning his face on the cool surface. He heard footsteps heading towards his room, but he didn't bother moving because of how bad his head hurt. His throat burned from all the acid that was pumped from his stomach out his mouth. Luckily he couldn't taste the bile, but just the though of it set him back towards the toilet, and lifting the lid. Remy's 'bout was set forth by some more dry heaves before he lifted up and sighed. Mon Dieu!

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Marie entered the room and saw that Remy had moved and heard violent coughing from the bathroom. As she stepped further in, however, something horrible caught her nose. "Ech...Rems is really sick." She sighed. "Remy! Yah in here Cajun?"

"In de bat'room Rogue." Cough-cough. "Need a lil' help, amour." Ahhh-choo! "Merde..."

As she stepped in a gasp escaped her throat seeing Remy buckled on the floor, white as a sheet.

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