Author's Note: Despite the fact that this started off "just another one of
my fanfictions", by the second chapter I'd grown quite fond of it, even
going so far as to revise certain parts before posting (oh, miracle of
miracles!). I'm actually quite sad to see it end, especially the way it
does. I did take a few creative liberties, though. Some sappy mush, some
more angst, and resolution.
Thanks to y'all who reviewed and replied. For that, I give you the final chapter. Sorry it was so late in coming. .
. "If you had one last chance to call one last person and tell them one last thing, what would you say? Who would you call? Why are you waiting?" ~Anonymous
.
.
Insomnia. That was the one thing that constantly reminded Remy of her, sitting up in the dead hours of night, listening to the beating of his own heart. He was half-surprised when he first focused enough to hear the soft lub-dub, then grew accustomed to it. He'd thought Rogue had broken it.
But life went on, and so did his heart. She was over, she was gone, and to be honest, he didn't really care anymore. At least, that was what he thought.
And partially thanks to Hank's thinly-veiled suggestions, he realized there was nothing there for him to hang on to. Yes, he'd used the excuse of having nowhere to go, but that was a flat lie. It had been false hope that led him to stay. Somewhere, in the dark recesses of his soul, he was waiting for her to come back to him.
The grieving process was over. She was happy, he was free, it was just over. Tomorrow, he'd leave off to God knows where.
It must have been one a.m. It was so dark he couldn't see anything but the stars through the window, and only saw the chair once he had rammed his shin on it. A few choice words came to mind, but he remembered that everyone else was asleep. Rubbing his shin, he hobbled to the light switch and flipped it on. The sudden light stabbed into his eyes.
He half-expected Joseph to come down and say something either incredibly insightful or incredibly senseless. He poured himself a glass of milk, remembering bits of Hank's explanation of pH levels and bases and such. Most of it had gone straight over Remy's head, but he took a bit of advice from it: no coffee before sleeping, no citrus in the middle of the night, and don't get sulfuric acid in your eyes.
Outside, the stars traced themselves across the sky. Remy felt privileged. He was the only one up to see this now, and ordinary as it seemed, it was beautiful.
His last night here. Might as well enjoy it. He'd say goodbye to everyone, sure, Stormy and Kurt and Hank and all. Even Joseph deserved a proper adieu.
There just wasn't enough milk in the carton. The last few drops drizzled into the bottom of his cup. He could've done with a beer, but Hank had explained some scientific mumbo-jumbo about that and sleep depravation. So no beer.
"To a new life." He said quietly, looking about if anyone had heard it. Raising the half-empty - or was it half-full? - glass, he pretended to clink it with any random imaginary person across the table. He downed it in one gulp.
Goodbye, Rogue.
He didn't need them anymore. He'd miss them, but lately he'd been so mentally separated it wouldn't be a huge change.
As he flicked off the light switch, Remy felt his heart still beating.
.
.
For Rogue, it started out a good day. She'd slept in until noon and for once didn't bark at Joseph for not giving her breakfast in bed. She didn't mind especially today. The sun was shining through the frosted window, her favorite song was on the radio, and the baritone voice of her fiancé rang out from the shower.
Finally, she was going to be a normal person, with children and a house and loving husband. A white picket-fence dream, she knew, but she could almost taste apple pie on the stove. Just like the movies, Joe would come back and kiss her cheek; the kids would get ready for the supper and dessert she'd so lovingly made.
Or maybe she'd just make Joseph cook. A decidedly evil smirk came to her face.
Joseph had chosen that time to enter the room, beige towel wrapped around his waist, excessively long white hair falling down his back. By any standards, he looked a drown rat, until he beamed at her with those perfectly straight teeth. From the bed, she grinned back.
"You haven't moved all morning, have you?" He asked teasingly. She nodded, resting a hand on her stomach. It hadn't swelled yet, but Hank had told them that it wouldn't be obvious for a few months.
Throwing on a polo shirt and blazer, Joseph continued talking. "I'm going out for that job interview. I'm thinking I have a good shot at this one now."
Good, she thought. No point in having that white picket fence dream paired with financial panic.
He continued. "After that, I may go out to the store, if you don't mind."
"So you're pretty much sayin' you'll be gone all day?" She asked.
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Fine. But if you're goin' for that job interview, you better get that tie straightened." He went to her, rolling his eyes a little as she nitpicked at his attire. While tucking in his shirt, she looked straight at him. "What d'ya wanna call the baby?"
"Boy or girl?"
Giving him a kiss on the cheek, she settled back into the bed. "Girl, Ah think. Boys are always so rowdy," She said affectionately. "Ah was thinkin' Scarlet. Or maybe Melanie."
"Been watching Gone with the Wind, have we?"
"Maybe."
He turned to leave. "Should I get you anything?"
A sour look came over her face. "For God's sake, Joe, Ah aint sick!"
Joseph took this as his excuse to leave. Rogue remained there, toying with the notion of accepting Jean's invitation to a girl's day out. Deciding to go, she got out of bed and headed for the shower. She thought only of the future as she entered the bathroom. Her house and her kids in the yard and a vegetable garden in back. Joseph pulling into the driveway, the cat winding around their feet. Her future.
Somehow, she'd been redeemed. God was giving her a chance, for once. She was going to have a child.
For Rogue, it started out a good day.
.
.
Smiling like a child keeping back a secret, Remy realized he'd somehow missed Joseph on his goodbye round. Not too big a loss. Ororo had given him an embrace that seemed to crush his ribs despite her small stature, Bobby had given him some unwanted tips on catching girls, and Hank had given him that slow, understanding smile. Remy rubbed his side, thinking that if 'Ro hadn't broken his bones then Piotr had. That Russian had one heck of a hug.
One last person to go, and Remy once again felt the need to stay. But his mind was made up, and he wasn't going to change it.
He never expected to hear her crying.
Peering his head around the closed door, he saw her weeping, sitting on the edge of the bed, sobs racking her body. Her face was buried in her hands; she didn't see him. He opened the door a little further, then took a tentative step forward. "Rogue?"
She either didn't notice him or didn't care.
He took another step forward, then another. Each movement felt charged with energy, like a single mistake would destroy them both. Each time his foot connected with the ground, it made a hollow sound that seemed to break the rhythm. She still didn't seem to notice.
Another step, and he was close enough to sit down on the bed. "Rogue?"
This time, she turned to face him, raising her head enough for him to see that horrible redness in her eyes.
"Rogue, what's wrong?" He sat down beside her, feeling like an intruder. She collapsed back into her hands.
"Remy, Ah...Ah lost the..." She couldn't speak any further. Tears had carved their way down to her chin, dripped down into her bosom. To her, they weren't enough to wash away the crimson stains she had seen. Red roses against the snow. The end of her hopes.
"S'okay." He said softly. He realized he was shaking, ever so slightly, even just in her presence. Reaching out to her, he understood that it meant so much to her, to be like everyone else, with kids and a family and the freedom she'd never had.
Foolish of her to think she could have kept her power under control for nine months. Of course she couldn't. God had given her a taste enough so she could dream, then snatched that dream away. Was it possible for Him to be so cruel?
To his surprise, he found himself embracing her, holding her close. He didn't remember initiating the contact, or if she had just come into his arms, but suddenly he was rocking her back and forth. Her head hung over his shoulder, and the nice shirt he'd been wearing was getting drops of wetness sprinkled upon it. He didn't care anymore. At least he was there for her.
"Ah'm sorry." She said quietly. For what, he didn't know.
"I know, I know. S'okay." Of all the things he'd wanted to say to her, of all the things he wanted to tell her, all he could say was that. It was all that needed to be said.
He rocked her softly, so happy to be with her like this, so sad to see her like this. She was breaking his heart all over again. He didn't understand why, but tears started to sting his eyes too, though they didn't fall.
She would never have the normal life she wanted. She'd never have a child that was truly hers. She'd never have so many of the things she direly wished for.
There was something he wished for that he'd never have either.
Her cheek was so warm against his neck. He buried his face in her hair. He was so close to her; she was such a stranger to him.
At some point, she must have fallen asleep in his arms. Exhausted mentally, she couldn't stand the thought of being awake and thinking about her loss anymore. It had been hours, because the sun was reaching for the horizon outside.
Remy closed his eyes and let himself be caught up in it all. He wanted to memorize every touch of her skin against his, every curl of hair brushing his face, every breath that ran along his shoulder. Before he left, he wanted to be there for as long as she needed.
When Joseph found them, his expression wasn't so much anger as sorrow. The wet mark on Remy's shirt and the red of Rogue's sleeping face told him it what it was.
With a nod, Remy lay her gently down on the bed. He hadn't known it would be so hard to finally let her hand slip from his onto the sheets. He hadn't known it would be so hard to finally break the contact.
Joseph was here for her now. Remy could just walk away.
And he did.
Outside, before he drove away, he held his hand to his chest, searching for a heartbeat. Maybe he'd left it on the bed beside Rogue, because he couldn't find it. . . ~The End~
Thanks to y'all who reviewed and replied. For that, I give you the final chapter. Sorry it was so late in coming. .
. "If you had one last chance to call one last person and tell them one last thing, what would you say? Who would you call? Why are you waiting?" ~Anonymous
.
.
Insomnia. That was the one thing that constantly reminded Remy of her, sitting up in the dead hours of night, listening to the beating of his own heart. He was half-surprised when he first focused enough to hear the soft lub-dub, then grew accustomed to it. He'd thought Rogue had broken it.
But life went on, and so did his heart. She was over, she was gone, and to be honest, he didn't really care anymore. At least, that was what he thought.
And partially thanks to Hank's thinly-veiled suggestions, he realized there was nothing there for him to hang on to. Yes, he'd used the excuse of having nowhere to go, but that was a flat lie. It had been false hope that led him to stay. Somewhere, in the dark recesses of his soul, he was waiting for her to come back to him.
The grieving process was over. She was happy, he was free, it was just over. Tomorrow, he'd leave off to God knows where.
It must have been one a.m. It was so dark he couldn't see anything but the stars through the window, and only saw the chair once he had rammed his shin on it. A few choice words came to mind, but he remembered that everyone else was asleep. Rubbing his shin, he hobbled to the light switch and flipped it on. The sudden light stabbed into his eyes.
He half-expected Joseph to come down and say something either incredibly insightful or incredibly senseless. He poured himself a glass of milk, remembering bits of Hank's explanation of pH levels and bases and such. Most of it had gone straight over Remy's head, but he took a bit of advice from it: no coffee before sleeping, no citrus in the middle of the night, and don't get sulfuric acid in your eyes.
Outside, the stars traced themselves across the sky. Remy felt privileged. He was the only one up to see this now, and ordinary as it seemed, it was beautiful.
His last night here. Might as well enjoy it. He'd say goodbye to everyone, sure, Stormy and Kurt and Hank and all. Even Joseph deserved a proper adieu.
There just wasn't enough milk in the carton. The last few drops drizzled into the bottom of his cup. He could've done with a beer, but Hank had explained some scientific mumbo-jumbo about that and sleep depravation. So no beer.
"To a new life." He said quietly, looking about if anyone had heard it. Raising the half-empty - or was it half-full? - glass, he pretended to clink it with any random imaginary person across the table. He downed it in one gulp.
Goodbye, Rogue.
He didn't need them anymore. He'd miss them, but lately he'd been so mentally separated it wouldn't be a huge change.
As he flicked off the light switch, Remy felt his heart still beating.
.
.
For Rogue, it started out a good day. She'd slept in until noon and for once didn't bark at Joseph for not giving her breakfast in bed. She didn't mind especially today. The sun was shining through the frosted window, her favorite song was on the radio, and the baritone voice of her fiancé rang out from the shower.
Finally, she was going to be a normal person, with children and a house and loving husband. A white picket-fence dream, she knew, but she could almost taste apple pie on the stove. Just like the movies, Joe would come back and kiss her cheek; the kids would get ready for the supper and dessert she'd so lovingly made.
Or maybe she'd just make Joseph cook. A decidedly evil smirk came to her face.
Joseph had chosen that time to enter the room, beige towel wrapped around his waist, excessively long white hair falling down his back. By any standards, he looked a drown rat, until he beamed at her with those perfectly straight teeth. From the bed, she grinned back.
"You haven't moved all morning, have you?" He asked teasingly. She nodded, resting a hand on her stomach. It hadn't swelled yet, but Hank had told them that it wouldn't be obvious for a few months.
Throwing on a polo shirt and blazer, Joseph continued talking. "I'm going out for that job interview. I'm thinking I have a good shot at this one now."
Good, she thought. No point in having that white picket fence dream paired with financial panic.
He continued. "After that, I may go out to the store, if you don't mind."
"So you're pretty much sayin' you'll be gone all day?" She asked.
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Fine. But if you're goin' for that job interview, you better get that tie straightened." He went to her, rolling his eyes a little as she nitpicked at his attire. While tucking in his shirt, she looked straight at him. "What d'ya wanna call the baby?"
"Boy or girl?"
Giving him a kiss on the cheek, she settled back into the bed. "Girl, Ah think. Boys are always so rowdy," She said affectionately. "Ah was thinkin' Scarlet. Or maybe Melanie."
"Been watching Gone with the Wind, have we?"
"Maybe."
He turned to leave. "Should I get you anything?"
A sour look came over her face. "For God's sake, Joe, Ah aint sick!"
Joseph took this as his excuse to leave. Rogue remained there, toying with the notion of accepting Jean's invitation to a girl's day out. Deciding to go, she got out of bed and headed for the shower. She thought only of the future as she entered the bathroom. Her house and her kids in the yard and a vegetable garden in back. Joseph pulling into the driveway, the cat winding around their feet. Her future.
Somehow, she'd been redeemed. God was giving her a chance, for once. She was going to have a child.
For Rogue, it started out a good day.
.
.
Smiling like a child keeping back a secret, Remy realized he'd somehow missed Joseph on his goodbye round. Not too big a loss. Ororo had given him an embrace that seemed to crush his ribs despite her small stature, Bobby had given him some unwanted tips on catching girls, and Hank had given him that slow, understanding smile. Remy rubbed his side, thinking that if 'Ro hadn't broken his bones then Piotr had. That Russian had one heck of a hug.
One last person to go, and Remy once again felt the need to stay. But his mind was made up, and he wasn't going to change it.
He never expected to hear her crying.
Peering his head around the closed door, he saw her weeping, sitting on the edge of the bed, sobs racking her body. Her face was buried in her hands; she didn't see him. He opened the door a little further, then took a tentative step forward. "Rogue?"
She either didn't notice him or didn't care.
He took another step forward, then another. Each movement felt charged with energy, like a single mistake would destroy them both. Each time his foot connected with the ground, it made a hollow sound that seemed to break the rhythm. She still didn't seem to notice.
Another step, and he was close enough to sit down on the bed. "Rogue?"
This time, she turned to face him, raising her head enough for him to see that horrible redness in her eyes.
"Rogue, what's wrong?" He sat down beside her, feeling like an intruder. She collapsed back into her hands.
"Remy, Ah...Ah lost the..." She couldn't speak any further. Tears had carved their way down to her chin, dripped down into her bosom. To her, they weren't enough to wash away the crimson stains she had seen. Red roses against the snow. The end of her hopes.
"S'okay." He said softly. He realized he was shaking, ever so slightly, even just in her presence. Reaching out to her, he understood that it meant so much to her, to be like everyone else, with kids and a family and the freedom she'd never had.
Foolish of her to think she could have kept her power under control for nine months. Of course she couldn't. God had given her a taste enough so she could dream, then snatched that dream away. Was it possible for Him to be so cruel?
To his surprise, he found himself embracing her, holding her close. He didn't remember initiating the contact, or if she had just come into his arms, but suddenly he was rocking her back and forth. Her head hung over his shoulder, and the nice shirt he'd been wearing was getting drops of wetness sprinkled upon it. He didn't care anymore. At least he was there for her.
"Ah'm sorry." She said quietly. For what, he didn't know.
"I know, I know. S'okay." Of all the things he'd wanted to say to her, of all the things he wanted to tell her, all he could say was that. It was all that needed to be said.
He rocked her softly, so happy to be with her like this, so sad to see her like this. She was breaking his heart all over again. He didn't understand why, but tears started to sting his eyes too, though they didn't fall.
She would never have the normal life she wanted. She'd never have a child that was truly hers. She'd never have so many of the things she direly wished for.
There was something he wished for that he'd never have either.
Her cheek was so warm against his neck. He buried his face in her hair. He was so close to her; she was such a stranger to him.
At some point, she must have fallen asleep in his arms. Exhausted mentally, she couldn't stand the thought of being awake and thinking about her loss anymore. It had been hours, because the sun was reaching for the horizon outside.
Remy closed his eyes and let himself be caught up in it all. He wanted to memorize every touch of her skin against his, every curl of hair brushing his face, every breath that ran along his shoulder. Before he left, he wanted to be there for as long as she needed.
When Joseph found them, his expression wasn't so much anger as sorrow. The wet mark on Remy's shirt and the red of Rogue's sleeping face told him it what it was.
With a nod, Remy lay her gently down on the bed. He hadn't known it would be so hard to finally let her hand slip from his onto the sheets. He hadn't known it would be so hard to finally break the contact.
Joseph was here for her now. Remy could just walk away.
And he did.
Outside, before he drove away, he held his hand to his chest, searching for a heartbeat. Maybe he'd left it on the bed beside Rogue, because he couldn't find it. . . ~The End~