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Valle Soleada General Hospital
Remy hated hospitals. He hated them to the very core of his being. From his experience, nothing good ever came from hospitals.
Just the thought of doctors and nurses poking and prodding brought back memories of the times he put himself under the care of doctors. They claimed they could help him. It seemed to him, their version of help fell more in line with his definition of torture. His skin itched and his stomach twisted in complicated knots. Sinister's mocking laughter echoed in his ears.
And yet…and yet that is exactly where he found himself. For the past twenty hours he found himself not-so-patiently waiting in the hospital waiting room. He scrubbed his hands over his face and pressed his fingers against his eyelids. His eyes felt like half the beach was lodged beneath his lids and no amount of pressure eased the pain. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't cry, he could barley breathe.
Rogue had been in a car accident. Though he wasn't with her when it happened, he had been the first to find her in the aftermath.
When they had their powers, she'd been nigh on invulnerable. A knock on her head like this wouldn't have laid her low. Yet, their loss of powers was the very scenario which allowed them to have this life together.
Anna was happy here. Happier than he'd seen her in a long time. She found a job she loved. A job she was good at which didn't require her to hurt anybody to be useful. They bought a house. They had movie nights and dreamed of a future. And now it all seemed to be slipping away with each tick of the clock.
He needed to move. To run. Walk. Pace. Yet, he couldn't move. A lethargy he couldn't shake tied him to the chair. Why couldn't they tell him something? Anything....
“Mr. Raven.”
Remy shifted uneasily in his chair. The worn vinyl creaked with the movement and stuck to his skin. His head ached with a persistent throb, making it hard to focus. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate. Before here. Probably. Hours ago, someone had pressed a paper cup of burnt coffee into his hand. He had no more stomach for that than he did for the thought of food. The tarry liquid was now cold.
“Mr. Raven.” The nurse tried again. Her voice a little louder, though Remy didn’t have a clue why. There wasn’t even a half dozen people gathered here, each in their separate purgatory. Surely by now, the nurse knew which patient each person was waiting for. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut until black spots danced against the inside of his eyelids.
“Mr. Raven.”
D—it. Why didn’t this Mr. Raven answer? At least he was going to hear something about the person he was waiting for. There was still no word on Anna. His Rogue. His heart. She had followed him to the gates of his eternal rest in order to bring him home. And yet, here and now, all he could do was sit and wait. Eternally waiting.
“Mr. Raven, are you all right?” The nurse was talking to someone beside him. That didn’t make sense. He had the row to himself.
A hand brushed his shoulder. “Mr. Raven?”
Remy started as the name finally clicked. Oh, right. They thought he was Mr. Raven.
The nurse let out a startled squeak when he opened his eyes and she was caught in the full burn of his demonic gaze. In the same breath, she regained her composure. Though a little shaky, she remained professional. “Mr. Raven, Anna is awake. She’s asking for you.”
He was on his feet and halfway across the waiting room before she finished speaking, only to hesitate when he reached the double doors. He didn’t know where they were keeping Rogue. The quick precise steps of the nurse caught up to him. When she looked up at him, she gave him an understanding smile. Apparently he wasn’t the first person to react in such a way.
“C’mon, I’ll take you to Anna. She’s a bit disoriented. I’m certain having you there will help.”
When they walked past the doors, the astringent sting of clinical cleanliness practically hit him in the face. It stung his nose and burned its way into his sinus cavities. His stomach churned, and lurched. He moaned. The memory of cold, metal scalpels pressed into his skin. Bile burned his throat and coated his tongue. He gulped back the urge to gag. He wasn’t going to screw up his opportunity to see Anna.
“Are you okay?” The nurse asked. “Do you need to sit down?”
He shook his head. “No. No. Just need to see her.”
“All right. She’s in room five.” She ushered Remy down the hall until they stood outside the room. “I’ll be back shortly to check on her.”
“Merci,” he mumbled as he pushed past the door and into the room.
Rogue laid as still as death on the hospital bed. With her eyes closed, he would have suspected the worst, if it wasn’t for the slight rise and fall of her chest. The black of the tattoo crawling up the length of her arm contrasted sharply against the unnatural pallor of her skin. A white bandage was wrapped around her temple. Her lip was split and swollen. A line of black stitches ran across the blanched red of her lips.
“Swamp rat,” her sweet honeyed drawl rasped through dry lips. “You gonna stand there staring all day?”
In an instant he was at her side. His bare hands wrapped around her bare hand. A myriad of memories and emotions bombarded his thoughts. For so long he dreamed of doing this. Of holding his Roguey’s bare hands, touching her skin, kissing his full lips, without fear. These last few months without their powers had been a miracle. Something they had not yet fully registered. Not completely. There was still a lot of baggage they were working through. And, they could have lost it all. An accident. A stupid, stupid accident.
He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Should I ask how you’re feeling?”
“No,” she groaned. The various monitors attached to her body continued to beep steadily. “My head hurts.”
“I know.” He brushed loose strands of white hair away from her forehead. His fingers lightly caressed her skin.
“You hate hospitals,” Rogue mumbled. The disorientation became more clear the longer they talked.
Remy sat in the chair beside the bed. Cradling her hand, he pressed it to his cheek. Though the scruff of his five o’clock shadow was rough and sharp, he didn’t think she’d mind. She loved exploring different textures, luxuriating in the contrasts of his body.
“Je suis, mais, I love you,” he assured her “I will follow you to the ends of the earth, the end of time. Why would I let a hospital stop me?”
A smile tugged at her lips, though the movement caused her to wince. “I love you too.”
“You know, I get it now,” he said softly. “I get it.”
“What do you get?” Her voice was growing weaker. Heavy eyelids blinked slowly.
“Why you chased me down. Asked me not to die.” For a time, after he came back from the brink of death, that fact had caused strain in their relationship. And, now, he realized he could no more let her go than she could let him leave this mortal coil.
“Mmm.” She hummed her understanding.
“Thanks for being here,” she mumbled.
“Of course. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” It was true. He couldn’t imagine being anywhere else than by her side.
Anna closed her eyes. Her breathing remained even. For the first time since he found her body trapped in the mangled metal, his body started to relax. He closed his eyes. For once in the darkness he did not see his bloody past play out against his mind's eyes. Instead, he saw her—his Rogue, his heart, his soul—alive and well. Mending. He saw her as a bride in a sage green, holding his hands, as they vowed their lives together.
He didn’t know where they’d go from her. He didn't know if he saw a vision or simply a dream of a bright future. But, he knew without a doubt, wherever life took them, they’d go there together.