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Remy was slowly opening his eyes, but quickly chose to covered them with his arm. The morning light of Louisiana felt too bright, too blinding. His head was throbbing and he felt dizzy and confused, as if he had woken up from a nap that lasted too long. It was a familiar sensation, one he did not feel in many years.
Memories from the previous days slowly came through him: Sarah Gaunt, the army gathering at Haven, a foolish request to swear on his marriage…
A shiver ran down his spine.
It was a close one, for all of them. Again. But this time, something was different. When he had reunited with his wife, he saw it in her eyes: Fear. They had embraced each other when they reunited, but he did not feel her relaxing in his arms, like she usually does after a difficult fight. On the contrary, she gripped his trench coat so hard it could have left a hole. Then he remembered Logan’s blood on the kitchen table, realizing Rogue was alone with the author of those wounds. He held her tighter.
This makes him question on what the hell might have happened during that fight with the witch. Rogue had refused borrowing Wolverine’s healing power, sent back Nightcrawler and basically threatened divorce if Gambit came to support her. He did not like it one bit.
The tension was palpable for the rest of the day. Still, they took care of the wounded, repaired what was broken, did a debriefing with the team, tried to prevent psychological damage the kids could have sustained…
He knew Rogue was not entirely truthful when she explained to the team what had happened with the Hag. She maintained her composure in front of the team, but Gambit, ever the observer, could detect the subtle hints that indicated that she was more shaken than she tried to let on. It was the slight pitch in her voice, the way she bites her lips to prevent them from trembling, how she kept playing with her gloves. Something else had happened, something that spook her, but was not willing to share with anyone.
At the end of the day, they were both physically and mentally exhausted. Yet, once they were alone in their bedroom, she wasted no time. She jumped into his arms and kissed him with a sense of urgency. Love was there, it always was, but the usual teasing or playfulness was absent. They did not talk as they undressed. Her touches were everywhere and nowhere at the same time: she was clumsy and trembling, not the way he wanted her to be. It was one of those rare moments where he felt out of sync with her.
Part of him wished he could first understand what scared her so much, but at that moment, she seemed keened on releasing the tension that did not left her since they reunited.
He told himself talking could always wait later, that right now, this is what she needed. Remy would always be there for her: mind, body and soul. But something didn’t feel right, he could see that she was hurting. Just as he was about to ask her to slow down, he saw a single tear rolling down her cheek.
Then, everything went dark.
Remy finally understood what had happened, why his memory stopped there, why he felt as if he has been hit by a truck.
Slowly, he brought himself to a sitting position and did a quick scan in his surrounding, dreading to find an empty room. He sighed in relief when he laid his eyes upon Rogue: she was asleep and curled up on the armchair. She had enveloped herself in a heavy comforter, as if to shield herself from the world.
He wished he could embrace her and carry her back to their bed, but knowing it would more likely alarm than sooth her, he chose to sit on the edge of the bed, facing her.
“Mon amour, je vais bien. Réveilles-toi.” he whispered softly.
Her breathing changed. Rogue groaned as she moved, a consequence of sleeping on an uncomfortable recliner. She suddenly widened her eyes, alarmed.
“Sugah, you’re okay! Ah’m so sorry-” She approached her hand towards him, but stopped herself, just before reaching his cheek. A painful expression was drawing on her face. Her hand changed into a fist before bringing it back to her chest. She avoided his concern gaze, ashamed.
She then remembered The Hag’s nightmarish smile, her claws that opened her wrist, the same claws that mangled her dear friend's body… She thought of Harvey X waiting for her in the afterlife, confirming her that she indeed died.
Rogue then started to struggle breathing. She felt as if the room was getting smaller. Her heartbeat was speeding up and her mind started to spiral. Tears were building on her eyes. After all these years, after all that work and training, she had an accident in a moment of vulnerability, threatening to permanently hurt the one person she could not live without.
Memories of Cody and Carol came back to her instantly, as if they were just waiting to overpower her again. Sadurang was right, she is just a scared little girl.
She needed air, she needed to get out, to get away from him, before she lost control entirely.
Without a second thought, she stood up, let the comforter fall into the dusty floor and took three large steps towards the balcony door. Rogue was ready to burst open the damn doors and hide in the wild bayou, never to be found again, when suddenly, a distant memory from a bright sunny day came to her ‘I’ll always find my way back to you’.
Rogue stopped before touching the door handle and looked back at Remy. He was still on the bed, but his hand was opened, waiting to be held. His vivid red on dark eyes refused to let go of her gaze.
“S’il-te-plaît, Anna Marie” she heard him say with a soft, yet firm voice. Her husband was not a pleading man, which spoke of how serious he was. “Stay.”
His plea and the memories of her vows were enough to bring her momentarily out of her spiraling thoughts. Fear can get a grip on her powers. It was her responsibility to not let it consume her. She did it before, she could do it again.
Rogue slowly nodded at him, silently asking for a minute to regain herself. She closed her eyes, brought her hand to her tense stomach, then breath in through the nose… Then out. She replayed in her mind her wedding vows, as a mantra. She could feel her stomach slowly unclenched as she let the air our of her lungs. She wiggled her toes on the carpet, trying to concentrate on the tickling sensation it brought.
Her heartbeat eventually slowed its pace and breathing did not feel as heavy as it did minutes ago. She still felt tense and scared, but it was no longer overpowering her.
The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was his uncovered hand, still opened, aching for her to take. Rogue gave a timid smile at her husband, then sat next to him, on their bed. She knew Remy would not initiate the touch, he has always been so patient, so understanding. She slowly extended her arm and after a few seconds of hesitation, she carefully reached for his hand.
Rogue enjoyed the moment, focusing her mind on his warm hands against her cold skin, on the texture of his calloused fingers. She always marveled at how their palm and their fingers seemed to fit perfectly together, like two pieces of a puzzle. But the one thing she did not feel was the pull of energy that brought unfamiliar memories and the distinct sensation of kinetic energy at the tip of her fingers. She sighted in relief as she rested her head on his shoulder.
Anna Marie had tamed her fear, at least for now. She opened the dam and let her tears run freely on her cheeks. She sobbed on his shoulder as he held her, caressing her back. Rogue felt a featherlight kiss on her hair. He must have sense how tired she was, as he carefully brought her with him to lay down on their bed.
He covered them both with a comforter, as if creating a safe haven for her waves of emotions. The moment he enveloped her with his arms, cuddling her from behind, she felt like coming home. She was finally safe.
They stayed like this in a comfortable silence, limbs intertwined, skin to skin. When the sunlight finally reached them, she felt ready.
“Ah need to tell you what happened. With Sarah Gaunt. And Harvey X.”
She felt him held her tighter. Her husband nuzzled into her mane before leaving a kiss at the junction between her neck and shoulder.
“Chère, dat’s why I’m here for.”