It's like the words were congealed in the back of my brain and just got infected there. (…That might be the most disgusting description of writers block I have ever read, let alone written…) It was like I couldn't write anything until I got this down. THIS CHAPTER HATES ME!
Anyway, here's cheers to you not destroying my soul after you read this!
His vision swam in front of him and there was a ringing in his ears.
Consciousness is such a weird state of mind.
Or, at least Remy LeBeau thought so.
Yeah, sure, his head hurt. Yeah, sure there was a spot below his ribs that was searing with pain. Yeah, sure, he was covered with mild burn marks- All of which were indicators that he was alive and awake, but if he were actually alive and actually awake the hardwood floor pressed against his bare skin would be burning with excess energy, just about ready to send him on a one way trip to meet his maker.
But, when this particular Cajun groaned himself awake, it was with the understanding that either was hallucinating very badly and he was about to die, that he was already dead and still hallucinating like a druggie, or that he was alive, not dead, not about to blow himself up, not about to own up for his *ahem* questionable pursuits through out his lifetime.
The first two were more believable.
"Merde…" He muttered to himself as he dragged his excessively bleeding torso off of the ground. The ground maintained its normal color.
So long as Rogue was alright it was worth it.
His head started to spin and the edges of his vision started to go black as he waited out for some sort of white light.
…just so long as she was okay…
"Goddammit, Anna Marie!"
Remy perked back up. The hell?
"Rogue!" The same voice called out. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"
Remy promptly decided that dying- or whatever it was that he was about to do- could wait. Scrambling to get his bearings, he looked around wildly as he brought himself into a semi upright position, still hunched over slightly in pain.
Rogue- his Rogue - was still down for the count. The Wolverine was leaning over her burned, bloody form
"Merde!" He repeated. Then the thought that had been bugging him since he reentered this 'conscious' baloney nagged at him again. HOW THE HELL WAS HE STILL ALIVE?
"You!" The Wolverine turned around to snarl at him, sparing a moment away from the girl in his arms. "What did you do to her!" His bare hand was laid out against her bare face. Considering that Rogue wasn't awake and Logan wasn't asleep, Remy guessed she wasn't absorbing him.
"Move!" Remy barked, shoving him out of the way. For a moment he was distracted by the drying blood on the tatters of shirt over the abused flesh that was Rogue, but quickly shook himself out of it.
How was he even still alive? And she, Rogue, faring so much worse?
Remy rubbed his hands together and when he pulled them apart a few controlled pink sparks snapped between them.
He snorted with disbelief and tried it again.
Again, the crackle of energy was completely under his control.
"Gambit!" Logan called his attention back to reality. "Whattrya gonna do, Gumbo?" He snarled what Remy interpreted as a concerned question.
"A parlor trick." One that had worked on him already twice in the event of a poisoning and accidental shooting.
Taking a deep breath, he clapped his hands together, creating more sparks and very quickly splayed out his fingers directly over where Rogue's heart was.
There's nothing quite like a good jolt of kinetic energy to get the heart pumping again.*
Her back arched as her eyes flew open and she sucked in a painful breath. Remy let himself be shoved out of the way by Wolverine in his jump to help her along in the healing process, abandoning the absolute control of his movement to gravity.
His head hit the floor.
Now she was alive and well. Now he could die.
He raised his hands in front of his face slowly.
Shit that was a lot of blood.
None of it was Rogue's…
"Merde…" He mumbled for the third time upon his arrival into the realm of 'consciousness' in the land of the 'living'. You know what sounded good right now? Sleep.
His eyes started drooping.
Sleep sounded fantastic.
He started to lose track of the world and the voices around him.
Sleep sounded like heaven.
"Swamp rat!" There was a good, southern slap right across his face. His eyes flew open to see a very irate Rogue standing above him, wrapped in the trench coat he had salvaged before she had blown up with one hand raised to strike again. "Don' yah dare start dyin' on meh!" She snarled.
"I wasn' gon' die," He mumbled as he smiled up at her, eyes drooping again. Golly, she was pretty when she was mad. "Honest."
He received a second slap.
"Owie," He yowled.
"I don' wanna hear it!" She snapped. "Yah saved mah life too many times in tha last five hours fohr me tah jus' stand here an' watchya bleed yahself inta an early grave." She grabbed his arm and hoisted him into an upright position, fully ignoring his groaning complaints and pulled his arm over her own shoulder so that she could walk with him.
"What 'bout 'im?" Remy tried to nod his head to the laid out figure of the Wolverine, only to make some sort of sloppy lolling motion in which his face miraculously found itself closer to Rogue's.
"He'll be fine in an hour or two." She smiled at him and then did something that shocked even the likes of Remy LeBeau.
She leaned her forehead into his.
He looked down and saw that the same hands that she had just slapped him with were wrapped around his very bare torso, also very bare. Upon the next few moments it took his sleep deprived, pain laden mind to work out the details, he saw that his pants weren't about to blow up.
Upon further review, although the other facts were nice, it would have been much more beneficial in the long run to know that one first.
"How?" He finally rasped out, taking her bare hand in his.
"Sugah," She smiled at him. "I can absorb a lot of energy, but I can't absorb impossible amounts of energy. Just kinda take the edge off of it."
"An' I ain't blowin' up everythin' I touch!" He grinned. This was great! This was fantastic!
"It would appear so." She smirked right back at him.
"And," He added with his own, much more devious smirk. "I can touch you."
Let the woman draw what conclusions she must.
Apparently, the conclusions she was drawing weren't far from the conclusions he was implying because she gave him an impish smile.
"Yah know what, swamp rat?" She grinned at him. "I don't think I would mind that too much, yah know why?"
It took a few moments for the shock factor of that sentence to lose itself on Remy before he answered hesitantly, suspecting a trap. "Why?"
"Je t'aime trop," She pulled him into a kiss. I love you too.
Huh, and you know, he almost considered dying a minute ago.
Logan woke up for the second time that day sprawled out on the hardwood ground where he had fallen. He immediately shot up and looked around wildly for Rogue to see If his touch had actually saved her life after the Cajun went down.
Only problem… Rogue wasn't there anymore.
And neither was the Cajun.
Both of which were bad news.
He stood on shaky legs and sniffed the air for a moment. Blood. Burnt skin and clothing. There was a trail of the smell down the hallway to the elevator. He started to follow it when-
God. Damn. All.
"Deadpool." Logan snorted in response.
"Did you know you guys have the most fantastic sugar cookies in your pantry?" The masked maniac asked, wiping at some crumbs on his mask. "Whatcha doin'?" He asked as Logan tried to catch up the trail again.
Logan was about to spit out a crippling retort when-
No, seriously. God damn them all to hell.
"Scott, Ororo, Kurt, Katherine, Bobby, Hank, Forge." He greeted the new group of followers the same way he had Deadpool.
"Where are Rogue and Gambit?" Kitty asked loudly, eyes wide with fear. Bobby smoothly wraped his arm around her.
"Is that blood?" Kurt looked at the ground.
"Are these burn marks?" Scott inspected the walls.
"Logan? Why is all of the hair on your body singed?" Ororo poked at his arm.
"Hey you guys, want some sugar cookies?" Deadpool held out a box of frosted sugar cookies.
"Oh, yeah." Bobby grabbed one and stuffed it in his face.
"How can you be eating when Rogue and Gambit are missing?" Kitty accused and punched Bobby.
"If Rogue and Gambit were missing, don't you Logan would be a helluva lot more pissed?" Bobby rubbed the now bruising part of his shoulder.
His words sunk in and everyone turned to look at the Wolverine in unison.
Logan felt his eye start twitching.
"Heheh…" Kitty coughed awkwardly. "Right…"
"Answers-" Logan started off brusquely. "1- I don't know, 2- Yes, 3- Very much Yes, 4- Lightning, 5-No, god dammit, put the sugar cookies away and stay out of the garage, 6- Screw Bobby's need to feed constantly, and 7- I am pissed." He glared at all of them.
"What now, bossman?" Deadpool asked while stuffing the rest of the cookies down his shirt and discarding the empty box.
Logan took a deep breath. "Now, I'm going to find Rogue and Gambit by following the lovely trail of blood the Cajun tracked on the carpet." He pointed down at the smudged line of blood that led down the hallway.
There was a chorus of 'ooooh's.
Kitty raised her hand hesitantly.
"Yes, you can come too." Logan put his forehead in his palm.
"Yeah!" Kitty whooped and then tore off down the hallway, following the blood.
Everyone hesitantly followed after her through the hallway, down the elevator, and to the med bay.
"Awww!" Kitty crooned when they all reached the med bay.
Gambit was laid out on one of the hospital beds, his side and several burn marks had been taped up and tended to, and Rogue was curled up into his side, bare face resting against bare chest as they both slept. The steady rise and fall of Gambit's chest indicated that this held no issue.
"Should we wake them up?" Scott wondered out loud.
Logan sighed and decided that he could kill the Cajun later.
"Nah," He mumbled, running a hand over his face. "If anyone deserves a nap, it's those two."
"Ya know," Kitty wandered over to Gambit's side and poked at his chest. "A guy doesn't get wounds like this from just standing around, waiting for money."
"True," Hank mused, knowing where she was going with this. "In fact, I would say that that boy has been fairly active over the past, say, twelve hours." He commented.
Bobby caught on.
"Yeah," The younger kid smirked, running a hand coolly through his blond hair. "In fact, I'm pretty sure he'd do anything for Rogue."
Scott and Ororo smiled to each other.
"I would have to agree." Scott grinned. "There was absolutely zero money involved."
"Yes," Ororo curved her lips mischievously. "It seems that he did the right thing for no reason other than his adoration of a girl."
Kurt grinned now as well, understanding where this was going as well
"In fact," He rocked back on his heels jovially. "Not only did he save her life, but he helped take down three of the organizations the X-men stand against most."
Forge looked at all of them.
"I don't get it…"
Logan glared at all of them in disbelief.
"JESUS CHRIST, WOLVIE!" Deadpool burst, excess sugar cookies flying from his person as he struck a dramatic pose. "JUST GIVE THE MAN AN X-BADGE OR SOMETHING!"
Logan muttered something about 'conspiracy' as he made his way to the bedside table of the hospital bed and slammed down a little communicator shaped like an 'x'.
Rogue mumbled something in her sleep and snuggled closer to Remy, who in turn, unconsciously moved his arm tighter around her.
"AWW!" Deadpool and Kitty giggled in unison.
In the not too distant future.
Charles Xavier stood on the plush green lawn of the Xavier Institute sometime in the future and his eyes welled with misty tears of pride and joy. The children out and about laughed and played with each other, openly displaying mutations in the midst of their sport without fear and showing extraordinary amounts of control for children their age.
A red playground ball rolled to his feet.
With an amused smile, he bent over to pick it up and then looked around for the owner.
A little girl shyly walked up to him.
"I'm sorry, sir." She stared down at her feet in the reserved way of a child. "But I was wondering if I could have my ball back."
"Of course, child." He knelt down to her eyes level so as to return the ball back to her civilly.
"Thank you." She grinned at him, finally looking up to reveal a pair of green on black eyes from underneath a curtain of white bangs.
Come on everybody- all in unison - awww! It was the most adorable ending I could think of!
*damage to the heart, smamage to the heart, that what we have Wolverine for (he had to be good for something)
My oh my! Jamie didn't explain where Sinister went, did she? BAHAHAHA! Seeya all IF (And I do mean a very large, resounding -IF-) I get into sequel mode for this. Probably not…. I'd very much like some sleep sometime in the 'not too distant future' (heh)
IT'S BEEN FUN!