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The mission had been stupid. Scott had been stupid. Jean had been stupid. Logan and Jubilee and everyone had been stupid.
Well, Ororo wasn't. But one mildly sane person did not make up for everyone being. So. Damn. Stupid. Seriously, what the hell? Did people not understand that you can be brave and shit without the self-sacrificing crap? That you can save people and beat up the baddies without throwing yourself on every grenade you come across?
Like this moron. This one that, unlike the other very stupid people, couldn't be ditched because he happened to sleep in the same place that she did. And this one was particularly stupid, because he had proved time and again that he was perfectly clever enough to actually get it. Get that cleverness could save your own ass and whoever you were trying to safe, and screw the extremes.
Not on this night, of course. Oh no, tonight, he decided to pull that same stupid crap everyone else was for once. As if all the sudden there was something to prove.
And now he was trying to cuddle up to her as if nothing was wrong. The fucking nerve. She shoved him away with the palm of her hand and continued to ignore him while cleaning up all the filth and crap from the mission.
"Aw, c'mon chere, don' be like that." Remy wheedled. "Wha's wrong?"
"What's wrong is you're a moron, an' I was under the impression you weren't. Kinda pissed 'bout being proven wrong on that count."
And now he looked confused. Stupid.
"I admit, I don' get what you're drivin' at."
Rogue dropped the wet towel and faced him. "D'you even notice the bleeding?"
Remy blinked owlishly, and looked her up and down. "Damn, chere, are you hurt? I'm sorry, I didn' see-"
She snarled. "Me? Am I bleedin'? You-stupid!" She seized his shirt, gripping a ripped section, and tore it further. The fabric fell away to show a gash striping Gambit's torso, clotted for the most part but still oozing.
And he laughed. "That's wha's got you in a knot, chere? That's not even a scratch, I c'n barely feel it." He began to move away, but Rogue wasn't having any of that.
"Sit. Down."
Remy wasn't laughing anymore. Good. Rogue pulled the tattered shirt off of him, and saw the other cuts and bruises littering his body. She began to clean and bandage them, speaking in an almost calm voice.
"I don' know why you pulled that crap tonight. An' you don' have to tell me. But if you want to, in the future, I'd mightily appreciate it. You scared me, doin' all that crap that the others do. An' what they do is all well and good, an' I love 'em all, but that's them. That's who they are. But you ain't stupid like they are. I don' like seein' you act like them. If it was just you, I wouldn't care. But it ain't. I wanna see that hero that you are every other night. That smug bastard that doesn' take shit from anyone and doesn' have to prove himself to anyone. That's the guy I'm willin' to put up for the rest of my life. Okay?"
He was silent for a moment. "Okay. No more stupid hero crap, yeah?" Remy gave her that crooked grin, and she shook her head.
"Damn empath. C'n look an' get the problem when it's convenient, can'tcha?"
His grin morphed into something mischievous and cunning and wholly Gambit, opening to-probably say something else that was incredibly stupid.
The man had done enough to piss her off tonight. So she slapped her gloved hand over his mouth, and kissed it. That would keep him quiet for-not long enough. But she would shove the sense back into his skull as many times as he needed, however he needed. Violence included. Rogue was a gentlelady that way.