DISCLAIMER: I do not in anyway own the X-Men as well as the poem featured at the beginning, that is the work of Thalia. My story though, please enjoy.
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Dog Days
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What do you call it when the hurt is in your soul? What do you call it when you feel so alone?
When you smile and laugh but you know it is all a show?
When you feel like you've hit your all time low?
When nothing makes you happy and the darkness around you grows?
When your in your house but it doesn't feel like home?
When you look back in your life and every choice you made now seems wrong?
When the wait to die seems far too long.
The Goth girl retracted her pen from the pages within her ebony journal to gaze at the other students outside of her window. Those who choose to dipict her as a freak. Those who thought her a lesbo or satin worshiper. Those who, without pretense,judged her. She was outcast even amongst her mutant brethern.
At present they were all outside enjoying a game of soccer. They never invited her to play save for the teleporting elf, Kurt. In fact the only time she did join in was when Logan forced them to let her play. For the briefest of moments she thought that day might be a day where she wouldn't contemplate suicide. Naturally, she was wrong.
With a deep sigh she adverted her eyes to her book. Placing the pen in her hair she used her fingers to flip through its pages. The beginning held a flicker of hope. A small flame that brightened its pages. Yet as time passed her little flame had been broken, beating, chewed, spit out, stomped on, then left out in the rain to dry.
She no longer believed in happily ever afters. They were comforting lies fed from the old to the young just as regurgetated bird food to chicks. Many people would be stupid enough to believe that bullshit, but she for one wasn't fooled. They showed her what people were truly like, sure there are always a few descrepancies. Kurt for starters. Then Logan as well as the other adults at the mansion. Other than those select few the world is cold, her peoples heart encaged in steel just like the ink of her ballpoint pin. But if one were to release the ink from its confinement ...
"Rogue we need to talk." Logan didn't bother with knocking on doors. There was no need. Over the last few months they had developed a system of sorts. Once every other week he would demand that she try to make friends. Her, the natural pessimist, would refuse. Knowing where this conversacion was going she let out a sigh.
"Afternoon Logan." she said drearily removing herself from her window to her bed.
Not moving, "You know why I'm here?" It wasn't a question.
"You finaly managed ta buy friendship for me?"
Startled he shifted a little, "Buy?"
"Ha," she laughed humorlessly, "Ya honestly thank that I didn't know ya were offerin Kit money ta be my friend?"
He took a minute to correct himself. He had not known that his efforts had been discovered till now. Meeting her eyes firmly, "Still, you should make friends. You won't be young forever."
"Like yer one ta talk."
"Not everyone will age as ... gracefully as I do."
"Honestly Logan," she placed her notebook and pen back under her matress, "If money can't even motivate a bunch of teenagers ta befriend me why do ya thank I'll have a chance the natural way?"
"Give them time to get to know you."
"how much more damn time do they need Logan; it's been over a year now!" she snapped.
Crossing his arms, "Rogue you're being a baby! You can't hord yourself in your room for the rest of your days watching life pass you by through that," he pointed, "window!"
"Life has already passed me by!"
Rubbing his temples, " For christ sake you're only eighteen."
"You'll never understand me Logan so don't try to!" she yelled back at him, her eyes abalze.
Stepping closer, "Do you know the hell I witnessed before I was even half your age?"
"Boo hoo," she rolled her eyes, "You killed your father. Been there done that. But look at ya Logan. You have had the chance to be happy, to be adored, to be respected, to be loved both psychologically and physically. I will never have those thangs. People don't respect me or or look up to me. They hate me. They fear me.
Atleast you are at home with our own kind. Even mutants look at me like I'm some kinda freak. Some demon from hell. No one besides you, Kurt, Storm, and the Professor has ever smiled at me. I'm tired of people flinching when round me. I'm tiered of people talking about me behind my back like I can't hear 'em. I'm tired of being alone and yet there is no place for me to go but here. Not that I have a choice.
I'm tired of watching people touch each other. What Scott and Jean have I'll never have. I will be alone forever. I heard ya talk with the Professor. Yall believe that I'll be like this forever ... so tell me Logan what do I have to look forward to in the future? What do I have to live for?"
He watched the way she gripped her comforter as she ranted. She was suffering. He wanted to lie to her. To tell her that everything would get better. To comfort her in a way that a caring non-abusive father would. But he was still Logan. He wasn't known for his candor. He told everyone the blunt truth wether it hurt or not. What should he say? Should he say, 'Yes, Rogue your right?' If he did that he'd probobly be scooping her brains of the cement from a suicide attempt. And if he said the opposite ...
"Ok Rogue, your right," he sat next to her on the matress, "But what if the happiest moments of your life is just around the next corner? Do you want to risk the chance at true happiness?"
Looking at him, "True happiness is a life without pain."
Wincing, "You're not going to try to make friends are you."
"I thank we both know te answer ta that."
Rogue watched as he left her. A part of her wanted to cry when she talked about her life, but to what purpose when there was no one to listen to her cries? It would be as the theme of her life, pointless.
...DD...
Remy Etiene LeBeau, the cajun with everything, the looks, the ladies, the loot, and he basked in it all for he believed he deserved it. He was better than most in his opinion and since he was better he believed he deserved the best. No overweight whore ever got to ride on his cock. He never took 'jobs' for less than ten thousand a pop. He was a man who enjoyed life and its gifts. Having everything any man would ever want made him love life an live it to its fullest.
However, tonight was his father's birthday. He was not so vain as to forget his family. Instead he took his father out to his favored club to get him laid by the 'trinity'. Trinity meaning an African American, an Asian, and a white chick that met his standards. Each were shorter than him with legs that seemed to go on forever, young but legal, the perfect hourglass shape, full assets, and of course eager to please.
A few hours later ...
"Did ya have fun tanight?" Remy asked as he walked home with his father. He could had just drove, but his father had insisted that they walk.
Smiling, "Yeah it was nice."
Walking beside him, "Let me guess ya want ta talk with me?"
"It's hard to talk to ya when yer over seas pilfrin things." JeanLuc pointed out.
Rolling his eyes, "That's what ya wanted smart ass," he reminded his foster father, " When we were young ya told Bobby, Jimmy, and I that someday we will be better than these swamps. That someday te world will recognize te LeBeau family again."
Interupting, "I did."
"Ya said the risk would be high, but te reward great."
"I said that too." he agreed.
"So what's wrong?" Remy asked, "I bested yer greatest expectations."
"I know," he stopped to light a cigarette, "Do ya know how old ya are?"
"Twenty-five. I could hardly fa'get my own birthday."
"Do you know that our line of work is the same as being an athlete? We expire. But, not before we train the next generation."
"I aint havin no kids!" he turned on his father.
"Remy don't be a child. Ten years from now you'll be lucky if yer still able ta do what ya can now. Mutant or no yer still human. It's not like I'm saying get married or ..."
Deciding it was his turn to interupt, "I'm to busy ta raise a child!"
"I already thought bout that. When yer gone I'll watch him or her."
Narrowing his eyes, "Yer getting the Grandparents disease aint ya?"
"What?"
"Oh ya know when people get a certain age they miss having children round. An if ya thank I'm givin ya grandkids jus ta humor yerself than think again!"
"Just one then."
"I said NO."
"Why not?"
"Why so? I don't need a child nor want one. I have everythang I ever wanted."
Laughing, "I was young once too. Trust me as good as te money and te femmes are there is sometin else in te world that you will want even more. Fer now ya just have tunnel vision."
"Oh really so what's better than bangin the worlds finest and making more money in two weeks than most people make in a year?"
"Love."
"Now ya sound like Dumbledore."
"Who?"
"Doesn't matter. Point is love really don't exist."
"Then why do people get married?"
"Fer financial means cause no one person can survive this economy an raise a family on one persons salery."
Sighing, "You'll learn ta love someday."
"I know he will." a female voice said causing both men to look behind them.
"Who'se there?" JeanLuc asked seeing no one. As he asked the lamp post went out instantly enshrouding the block in an innatural dark glow. Gambit backed up to cover his father while charging a card for light.
"What ya want with us?" Remy asked the voice.
"To repay a debt." she said again before the light flashed on and off. When it finally stayed on they turned to see what appeared to be a vodoo witch standing atop the post.
"Evening gentlemen." she purred. Gambit instantly threw his card at her causing her to vanish and reappear before him, "That was not very nice."
"Leave us alone!" JeanLuc growled at her.
"There is," she insited moving her gold eyes over them, "A debt to be repaid."
"An what does this debt have ta do with us." Gambit said still keeping his father firmly behind him.
"Not both, just you." She placed a hand on his face, "You have been truly blessed with beauty. It is a shame that I have to take it all away."
Before he could do so much as think a protest he was attacked by a storm of ravens picking and peeling at his body. He barely heard his father's voice over the sound of squaking and tearing flesh. What had he done to dieserve this?
By the time the birds left him he lay upon the floor.
"Remy!" his dad shouted, picking him up in his arms as if he were half the weight he was.
"What's wrong?" he asked only to be answered by random barking.
"Turn my son back!" JeanLuc demanded.
The witch simply cackled, "Your son shall remain as is until he truly learns what it is to be loved." she said dissapearing in a storm of black birds.
"Remain as what!" Gambit paniked once again hearing barks. He looked around until he saw his reflection in an empty store window. He was a dog. A shaggy, undernourished looking red dog with the eyes of his former person. If he could cry he would.
"Don't worry son," JeanLuc held him tighter, "I'll take care of you until we can fix this."
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Please Review :)
Going in a different direction with this one. Hope that you all enjoy it thus far ...