AN: Well Hi *shy wave* it's now 2011 and it's been over a year since I last updated for which I am very sorry but for the last year my life has been kinda up in the air. I am currently in my last 2 weeks of school (high school senior year for all you Yanks) and all I have left to do are my final exams for my IB in May. I Just got into a couple Foundation Year in Art a week ago and was about to sit down and write an English essay and this came spewing forth. It has been so long since I wrote something that I was beginning to think that I'd lost it, but sitting here listening to Murder by Death and continuing the journey of Remy and Rogue came as easy as riding a bike so I had to share it with you all straight away. I will be surprised if you all remember me my minions and acolytes but I hope that you do and I hope that you enjoy this passage. There is still one to go and you may have to wait 'till May for it to arrive but I have not forgotten you and I promise I will finish this fic, if it's the last thing my crazy ass does.


Me: I'm sure it's here somewhere, YES! Here it is *she says after having rooted around her room for the past hour* See Scary Official Looking Man! I do own Remy here are the documents to prove it!

SOLM: You do realise that this is just a doodle of him hugging you that you've signed "Love Remy LeBeau"

Me: Er...*serious face*...These are not the droids you're looking for...

SOLM: Yeah, No...Tell the truth

Me: Fine I don't own Remy or the X-men only the creepy Omen boy...why do I get saddled with the scary people?

SOLM: Because you invented them...maybe that's a reflection of your own character...

ME: Shut up *pout*

Thank you to everyone that has reviewed and enjoy...

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there.
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.

~Mary Frye, American poet, 1905-2004~

The room was crowded, full to capacity. For such an apparent loner the number of people who had come to pay their respects was astounding. Each had a kind word to say about the girl with the striped hair Kitty just wished that they could have shared their love while she was alive. Now that Rogue was dead all their well wishing seamed false, just because she had been hard to approach while she was still breathing didn't mean that she didn't need their support, their kindness, their love and now they were ready to give it by the boatload, she wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to shout in all their faces that they never deserved her attention that Rogue was so much better than them all together that she had earned more than a pine box in the ground, she should have had love and a family with that boy with red eyes. She would never have that now. All Rogue was now was a memory of drawling, sarcastic voice with warm, broken eyes.

The casket at the front of the room was the most terrifying thing that Logan had ever seen. He could withstand torture, battles and even PMSing teenage girls but the sight of his Stripes in a coffin shook him to the very core. It should never have happened this way. She was supposed to get better, she was supposed to have a chance to have a life but it had all been cut short because of some psychotic bigot. Wolverine knew that being a mutant was hard and that Rogue had drawn one of the shortest straws he'd ever seen when it came to her powers and past, but somehow she had managed to stay strong, she was able to get through it with a sense of humour to boot but the world had to crush her. Any strip of sunshine in her life the world had crushed and now it had destroyed her taking his sunshine with it. Now all that was left was to try and recover. He was leaving. As soon as the funeral had finished he was going to be on his bike, he was heading back to the mountains, maybe if he had solitude, prevented himself from getting close to anyone he couldn't be hurt and he'd be able to mourn his little girl in peace. The only family he'd ever wanted who had been prematurely ripped from him.

To any onlooker the funeral was a beautiful service. There were funny stories from Rogue's lifetime, moving poems, solemn prayers and stunning flower arrangements expressing people's sorrow her death but to anyone involved it was the worst day of their life.

Rogue was a constant; a pillar that they had clung to for a snarky remark to make whatever problem seem less important by immediately putting things into perspective, someone who judged no one because she had had that too many times in her lifetime and knew how it could crush the soul. She was even someone who knew how to make their food just the way their mother had or could tune their ride to perfection because she had a way of making machines speak to her even though she'd never had a lesson on fixing cars in her life. She was present everywhere and now she was gone...a ghost...a whisper and a corpse.

Kurt was at the podium. It was his turn and he didn't know what to say. How could anyone else comprehend what he was feeling? He had lost his sister. God was laughing at him She had just been returned to them and like a petty child God had decided that he could have anyone being happy, that no, they could not have their untouchable girl back, no, she had to be taken from them.

He looked out at the faces in the crowd before him and saw their sorrow, their grief and realised that he was wrong. They did know what he felt; they too were Rogue's brothers and sisters, surrogate parents and best friends. They had lost family today. He felt himself lose control of the tears that he had kept in check since her death had been announced. No more German stoicism, he broke down in front of everyone that he cared about because no matter what they said, what they felt what they did his sister would never ruffle his hair again or chuckle at his antics or carefully let him hug her even though the thought of hurting him terrified her beyond belief. Tears fell from his eyes and sobs escaped his chest as he clutched to her cold hand. She had such soft delicate skin and this thought made him weep even more. The first time that he could safely touch his own sister was the last time he would ever see her, in that damned open casket.

The blue boy felt someone try to release his hands from the death grip that he was using to clutch at his sister's hand. But he held on tighter he couldn't letter her go. They couldn't take her from him. The hole where his insides used to be couldn't be real she wasn't dead. It was all just a joke that she was playing on him. She always did have a warped sense of humour. But the unknown person pulled him away and he screamed and screamed.

"MEINE SCHWESTE! SIE NICHT WEITER GEHEN! ÜBERLASSEN MICH! GAUNER! LEBEN!" (my sister! You can't go! Don't leave me! Rouge! Live!)

But she didn't wake up or spontaneously start breathing, she stayed lying there deathly pale, unmoving and uncaring to his pleas. After being removed so forcefully from his sister's body Kurt retreated to the right had corner, furthest away from the casket. Hugging his knees, rocking himself gently as san an old German lullaby to himself, the song that Rogue had learned specifically for him so that the days when he got so homesick that he would only speak in German would be more bearable.

"Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf.
Der Vater hüt't die Schaf.
Die Mutter schüttelt's Bäumelein,
Da fällt herab ein Träumelein.
Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf!"

The room grew quiet once more, except for Kurt quiet singing, almost a whisper adding an almost eerie soundtrack to the heart wrenching occasion.

"Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf."

As Charles Xavier surveyed the room her realised that everything was wrong. Even through his dream of a safe-haven was incomplete he had always prided himself on being able to provide a happy home for the few mutants that he was able to save and that had all been taken away from him in one fell swoop.

"Am Himmel ziehn die Schaf.
Die Sternlein sind die Lämmerlein,"

As he wheeled himself to the front of the room he saw the devastation on the faces of the people around him. Maybe if he'd been less vocal, if he'd drawn less attention to his X-men and the work that they were trying to achieve those monsters would never have discover Rogue and she would still be in their lives. Maybe just maybe.

But maybe wasn't good enough.

"Der Mond, der ist das Schäferlein.
Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf!"

"Rogue had a fire that most people could only dream of. She was able to withstand the multitude of knocks that life dealt her a still stand strong with determination in her eyes and a sarcastic joke on her lips...What I will miss most will not be her ability to make a joke in any situation, nor her perchance of trouble or even her amazing Southern cooking it will be her unfailing optimism.

"Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf."

To many of you she was the depressed pessimist who had accepted her place as the untouchable girl who had to constantly wrap herself in physical and psychological barriers to prevent others and herself from harm. Yet she always managed to pick others up off the ground, dust them down and return their confidence all the while managing to keep up the illusion that she cared for nothing and no-one. She still tried. She always tried to get control, to conquer her fears because all she wanted was to be loved, for there to no longer be any more hurt, to have a family. In the end she achieved her control, but I only hope that she knew she was loved, she did have a family. My greatest fear is that we failed her. That through everything that she endured that she still felt alone...because this girl deserved love, she deserved a family and for her to leave us without knowing that would be the greatest tragedy of all.

We will miss you Rogue, the untouchable wild rose. You will always have a place in our hearts. You make us strive to be better and I hope that one day we will be worthy of your memory, that one day when we meet again, as I know we will, that you will forgive us for any pain that we caused you because we all love you. I only hope, that wherever you are you know that..."

"So schenk' ich dir ein Schaf."

The whole room was so focused upon the Professor as he made is speech that they didn't notice the man that entered at the back of the room.

If any religious human had been there at that moment they would have sworn that a real lie demon had come to take their soul from the appearance of who stood before them. The man stood completely dishevelled , his clothes were covered in dust from travelling and ripped in areas as though he had fought through Hell to be standing there. His hair stood in complete disarray, falling in every direction with some parts standing on end yet it was not enough to cover his face. On any other day girls would have swooned at this man's features, perfect yet in a manly, rugged way, but at this moment the pain and sorrow that was etched into his face caused the insides of any onlooker to run cold while wondering what had happened to cause such devastation and hurt. The small gash on his cheek was still oozing blood even though it looked days old. However it was the manic glint in his red on black eyes that made him seem demonic. They burned with a light so desperate it warned any person in his way that he would not hesitate to destroy anything that stood in his way while the faint crackling pink energy that surrounded his gloves confirmed it.

"Mit einer goldnen Schelle fein,
Das soll dein Spielgeselle sein."

"Mon Coeur"(my heart)the man whispered. He walked towards his goal with the gait of a man who had been travelling on a motorcycle too long. When he reached the body of his love the reality of the situation crashed over him in a new wave of grief and loss as tears began to stream down his face landing on the smooth, pale skin of the girl that lay before him.

"J'ai un cadeau pour vous River Rat" (I have a present for you) he whispered and slipped something onto the Southern Beauty's ring finger. As he stepped away those at the front could see that it was a ring. Le Diable Blanc placed a light kiss on the girl's lips, waited and prayed.

He was just as shocked as the rest of the room when a low hum filled the room. Tendrils of green snaked out from the ring and encased Rogue in its light, growing brighter and brighter until it was too painful to look straight at it. Once the light faded away nothing was different. Rogue still lay there unmoving in the casket.

"Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf."

Silence reigned as Kurt finished up his song. There was a lull and suddenly the body lifted itself up as Rogue gasped for air, coughing and spluttering. As soon as her head fell back onto the satin cushion of the coffin lining her eyes snapped up and locked onto the face of her love as chaos broke out.

"What took you so long Swamp Rat?" croaked out the girl that had just been snatched from Death's icy grip.

Watching the pandemonium inside the mansion a familiar, young boy with cold, blue eyes let out a chilling chuckle. The plan was coming into fruition. His master would be pleased...

REVIEW or I'll make you go through the Hell that is applying to University!

Translation of the German lullaby:

(Sleep, baby, sleep.
Your father tends the sheep.
Your mother shakes the branches small,
Lovely dreams in showers fall.
Sleep, baby, sleep.

Sleep, baby, sleep.
Across the heavens move the sheep.
The little stars are lambs, I guess,
And the moon is the shepherdess.
Sleep, baby, sleep.

Sleep, baby, sleep.
I'll give to you a sheep.
And it shall have a bell of gold
For you to play with and to hold.
Sleep, baby, sleep.)