Work Text:
Behind Your Eyes
Rogue entered her room, for once too tired to slam her door behind her.
She'd continued to sit with Remy until her teeth began chattering despite the coat tugged tightly around her. Hank and Logan had then become more forceful in their "suggestions" that she take a break, and though Rogue knew she could take them in a fight, she caught Remy glaring at her as well. And that had decided things.
She didn't want to leave, but she also didn't want Remy to worry about her. It was still unclear how much of him had surfaced, though it appeared to be happening—and relatively quickly, considering. But even though she wasn't sure, she'd seen that very look in Remy's eyes before.
Never take care o' yourself, he'd often grumbled at her in exasperation.
His beautiful eyes had said that now. So she'd given in.
But now, in her room, she somehow felt even colder than she had in the infirmary.
Maybe it was that the infirmary held the person she loved more than anyone else, hope for that person, was something more than the space she'd chosen to rot since the team moved to the X-Corp headquarters in Genosha.
Rogue guessed she'd be back with Remy soon enough.
She just had to make a show of taking care of herself first. If she could remember what that was like.
She pulled off Remy's coat and was about to drape it across her chair, but it occurred to her that it probably needed to be hung up on account of her wetsuit.
She grabbed a hanger from her closet and hung the coat from her closet door. It looked just like his usual coat, though in black.
That made her snort.
Got to wear his damn coat even when he's evil.
She patted down the lining on the inside of the coat, which was a bit damp, and she felt something in the inner breast pocket.
Whoops.
Hopefully she hadn't destroyed whatever it was.
She pulled the object out, and though she hadn't destroyed it, it managed to destroy her.
It was a Polaroid of her and Remy.
It was a hot day, and the team had elected to play basketball rather than lounging by the pool. No powers were allowed, though Remy was choosing to be himself that day, so he seemed to find ways to bend the rules each time he got the ball.
During a break, he sat on a low wall beside the court, drinking water and looking like he should be on the cover of a romance novel.
That managed to annoy Rogue even more, and as she stomped over to chide him, she could practically feel steam coming out her ears.
She put a hand on his thigh, leaning in and pointing a finger at him.
"What part o' no powers do you not understand?"
He gave her a sly smile.
"Don't understand much o' anythin' with your hand there, ma chérie."
She gasped.
"Remy!"
"Don't mind."
He put a hand on her lower back, pulling her slightly closer.
"You are pushin' your luck," she warned.
He gave his head a small shake, letting his hand slide lower.
"Non. Now I'm pushin' my luck."
His voice was low and husky, and Rogue forgot what she'd been planning to say.
He dipped his head down, kissing the tip of her gloved finger.
"Remy…"
"No one's lookin'," he said quietly.
He reached up, taking her hand and turning it to kiss her palm.
She sighed, not sure if it was from apprehension or something else.
They weren't a couple. At her insistence on account of her powers. But they also weren't not a couple.
It was difficult to ignore these small moments when Remy dropped the façade, when he showed that he could be gentle and loving, that the skilled, strong, sensual man was far more complex than he wanted most people to know.
It was hard not to love someone like that. It was even harder to keep from telling him that she did anyway.
He gave her palm another kiss before nodding to the court.
"Startin' up again."
Startin' up what?
"Come on, mon amour. Gotta show you my skills."
"Cheatin' by usin' your powers?"
"Non."
"That mean you got other skills?" she asked archly.
He gave her a filthy grin as he walked backwards onto the court.
"Come see, and I'll show you."
Rogue hadn't noticed anyone taking the photo at the time, though clearly Remy had been wrong—or more likely, hadn't cared—about having an audience.
And because Remy's other "skills" had involved knocking her down and subsequently helping her up like he was dipping a dance partner—a move she'd thwarted by kissing him through her hand—she hadn't even remembered their earlier exchange.
But there it was, memorialized in a photo and somehow living on next to his heart.
Rogue stared at the photo, feeling like her chest was in a vice.
This was only a year ago, give or take, and so much had happened since. But once upon a time, things had been simple, and something good had been budding.
Or maybe more than budding. She hadn't seen it somehow, but—in the photo—it was clear as day.
You loved me. And I loved you.
Though it was slightly tempered by ire, her eyes betrayed the love she thought she'd hidden well. Remy's eyes seemed to glow in the same way, his gaze shining with naked, unrepentant affection, the way they always did when he cared about something or someone.
Had she really not noticed at the time?
Or had she been too distracted by her fears, by the part of her that whispered that she wasn't good enough, that no one would ever want her, that no one like Remy would ever want her?
She must have been blind, because the man in the photo only had eyes for her.
Rogue felt a wave of guilt, knowing full well what the truth was more likely to be.
She'd been afraid and hadn't wanted to admit what was plain as day, hadn't wanted to accept it, because what would it mean for her, for both of them if she had? She would have needed to make some big decisions, would have truly had to wrestle with the knowledge that her powers would always be in the way. That Remy deserved more, that she would always want him to take more than she could give. She would always have to let him go, even though it was the last thing she wanted. His happiness and safety would always matter more.
Remy had likely known that, but nothing in his expression betrayed anything like bitterness. Her happiness and safety would always matter more for him, too. And he was delighted to have any part of her that he could.
Rogue felt her eyes filling with tears for the millionth damn time.
Remy had still loved her then. He still loved her now.
Even when he'd become someone else, even when his life had been taken from him, when he had been made a vessel for something, someone truly terrible.
Even when he didn't know who he was, when he still might not fully understand who she was, some part of him considered her precious.
How had she ever thought she could live without someone like that in her life? How had she ever been convinced that she would be capable?
The past year had shown her that she couldn't. Not well. It had certainly shown her that she didn't want to.
And even in death, even in something like it, Remy apparently hadn't wanted to live without her either.
She put the Polaroid on her nightstand, carefully propping it up like it was made of the most fragile glass.
Maybe she would find a nice frame for it some day.
Rogue reached for the zipper on her wetsuit, when there was a knock on the door.
She found herself fighting a smile.
Another time, it would have been Remy "offering" to help.
The thought made her snort.
Who'm I kiddin'?
Remy would have picked the lock and strolled in with his hands out.
"It's unlocked," she called.
Kurt appeared inside the room in a cloud of smoke.
"Fortunately, locks tend not to be an obstacle in my case."
Rogue smiled at him, and then something seemed to hit her in the chest.
Locks weren't a problem for either of her boys.
"What is it, meine Sis?" [my sister]
"Just thinkin'. You and Remy got that in common." She gave Kurt a watery smile. "Think my mind's lookin' for anythin' to be sad 'bout at this point."
"I believe it is allowed to at a time like this." Kurt knit his brow. "You are still in your wetsuit?"
"Yes?" she replied sheepishly.
"Ach, you will never take care of yourself, will you?" he admonished.
He shook his head, walking into her bathroom and starting the tub.
"What- I was gonna take a shower."
"You are going to sit and relax," Kurt said firmly. "And you cannot do that in the shower."
Rogue clenched her fists.
"Kurt-" she began.
He returned, giving her a meaningful look.
"Do not think that making yourself sick will keep you in the infirmary with Remy."
Hmm.
That wasn't a bad idea.
Kurt glared at her, putting his hands on his hips.
"I can see what you are thinking."
Rogue crossed her arms.
"You gonna stop me, elf?"
"I do not need to. I will get Remy to make puppies' eyes at you and remind you to rest."
Rogue felt her brow furrow.
"I understand he is the only reason you left," Kurt continued.
"Who told you that?" she gasped.
"I went to the infirmary to find you. And I was astonished to find instead that you were not there," he said pointedly.
Rogue rolled her eyes.
"I got plenty o' reason-"
"I know," Kurt grumbled. "Hank and Logan shared of Remy's developments. I was surprised to see some of his physical changes myself."
Rogue nodded.
"He talk to you?"
"He did not. But I mentioned that I had prayed for him, and he rolled his eyes."
Rogue pressed her lips together, fighting a smile.
Don't know who he is and still a lapsed Catholic…
"It was quite a dramatic gesture," Kurt added, sounding piqued.
"Sounds like Remy."
"Yes. It appears he has done quite a few things that are rather unmistakable."
"Yeah. Tried to fight Logan from the table. Probably the best sign we got so far."
Kurt gave her a soft smile, giving Remy's coat a small nod.
"I believe the best sign we have is that he continues to take care of you, even when he can barely move."
Rogue felt a sudden lump in her throat.
"Yes."
She looked at the floor.
"Will you tell me how you are doing? How you are really doing?" Kurt asked gently.
Rogue shrugged.
"He keeps breakin' my heart. He's hurtin', along with everythin' else. I hate that," she sniffled.
"I know."
"And…"
She chewed her lip, knowing it was probably a silly thing to worry about.
"What if everythin' we seen ain't enough?"
"I am not sure I understand."
"Remy's startin' to look more like himself. Talkin' more. But what if that ain't enough proof for everyone?"
"Is that likely?"
"Not sure I know what's likely anymore," she admitted.
Kurt nodded in understanding.
"Or what if-" Rogue cut herself off, trying to fight a darker worry that occasionally tried to outshine the others. "What if I'm wrong?"
"What if Remy is still Apocalypse?"
Rogue shrugged.
"Maybe bein' 'round Logan is just makin' me second guess everythin'. But what if-" Her voice caught. "What if he's really gone but I just ain't seen it yet?"
Kurt put his hands on her arms.
"Then we will cross the bridge as we reach it. And we will manage whatever happens together."
Rogue shook her head.
"I can't take it."
"You can. And, if you must, you will."
"No-"
Rogue looked away as her eyes filled with tears.
"But I do not believe that you will have to," Kurt added.
Rogue's eyes shot to Kurt's.
"You don't?" she gasped.
"No. I believe Jean and the professor intend to visit with him again, but I saw much to be encouraged by. Much more than I had expected."
"Yeah?"
"I did."
"So you don't think I'm just bein' a fool?"
"No. But possibly not for the reason you think. I believe even the slightest sign that Remy might remain, and certainly the slightest chance that he might be in pain, would be enough to keep you by his side."
"How d'you figure that ain't me bein' a fool?"
"Is love foolish?"
"Ain't most poems and songs 'bout how it is?"
Kurt glared at her.
"It is not foolish to want someone you love to be alive. Or to want them to be comfortable. And it is not foolish to hope."
"No?"
"Some of us might even call it having faith," Kurt said, his eyes twinkling.
Rogue gave him a look, which only made him smile.
"I believe it is a good thing that you care, my sister."
"Even though it's makin' me a wreck?"
"Even then. Having seen Remy in discomfort, I suspect you would not forgive yourself for staying away, knowing that he might have had to experience those moments alone."
Rogue shook her head.
She would never have been able to. It was one of the many reasons she wanted to run back now.
Kurt took her hand, glancing toward the bathroom.
"You will be back there soon," Kurt said reassuringly, seeming to read her thoughts.
She nodded, still feeling uneasy.
Kurt gave her hand a squeeze.
"Our mothers showed us what comes from refusing to care. And from refusing to risk loving others. As long as I have known you, you have been someone who does quite the reverse. I believe that is what guides you now, and it is what may very well help Remy through what is likely to continue to be a difficult time."
Rogue nodded again.
"And as painful as that may be, I suspect that you would not wish to be another way."
No, she wouldn't.
"Ah, the tub is ready. I am sorry to say there are no bubbles."
That made Rogue snort.
"Thank you, elf."
"You can thank me by resting, meine Sis," he said pointedly.
Kurt walked into the bathroom, and after a moment, Rogue heard the water shut off.
Kurt poked his head out, now giving her a warning look.
"Do not forget that I know your ways."
Rogue found herself once again fighting a smile.
Audio/Podfic Version
(read aloud by me!)
Length: 17:04
Listen: Behind Your Eyes mp3
The photo in question:
