Work Text:
Out of the Night
Rogue sat by the medical tents, the only part of Genosha with any light, though it still felt like the darkest night, like the morning might come, but the sun would never shine.
Remy's body was lying next to her on the ground, as still as the smoking rubble around them. Beds were relegated to the living, to the injured, to those for whom there were still shreds of hope.
There was none of that for Remy.
Rogue knew it was unfair, that it was a choice made out of necessity, but her blood boiled. He had saved them all, and here he was, lying on the ground like he was no better than dirt.
Maybe it was fitting, a reminder of things to come. He would be buried deep within the ground soon anyway.
Kurt brought her Remy's trenchcoat at some point, probably to wrap around her shoulders, but she draped it over Remy, as though it might protect him, might keep his cold body warm.
He would never be warm again. And she was fairly certain that neither would she.
Rogue seemed to be thinking a million things at once. Feeling a million things at once.
Hadn't Remy known that he had things to live for? That he was needed and wanted and loved?
Her heart seemed to shatter.
No, he hadn't.
Because she had been too late, because she had kept her mouth shut, because she was too damn scared. And so damn stupid.
Erik had always talked her mind in circles, once again tied the things he wanted into speeches of righteousness and good. He wanted Rogue to give his mission credence, to spark the team’s loyalty and trust. He wanted power, physical pleasure, someone to soften what might otherwise be an unforgiving reign.
So he tugged mercilessly at her heartstrings, knowing that she would do whatever he wished. Because she would not risk losing opportunities to aid others, to help others redeem themselves, to keep those she cared about safe.
Rogue thought she was smarter now. Older and more experienced, too wise to believe the lies. And yet Erik easily tied her in knots, shamelessly prodded her bleeding heart.
So she went to Remy believing that she would be doing good for the world, that letting him go would give him a chance to be happy, to be safe. That he would hurt now—that they both would—but it would be worth it in the end. For both of them.
Loving you makes broken men whole, Erik had said amidst his web of half-truths. So that even as you deny us, our heartache is not in vain.
Looking down at Remy's remains, Rogue could see nothing whole about the broken man.
Remy was a better person than all of them, certainly a better person than she was. He was true to himself, true to his values. Was unswayed by others, was not easily fooled. He saw good that needed to be done, and he did it without fanfare, with no concern about anything else.
In Genosha, he chose to carry the lives around him on his shoulders without a second thought, saved them all at the expense of everything he could give.
And it was instinctual, was who he was. The person he had been until the bitter end.
But Rogue knew that this was—in part—because Remy had spent his life expecting to be left behind, to be swept up with the trash. He believed it was his lot, that it was a destiny he would be unable to escape. So when it happened, he intended to make sure he was doing good, that when he was discarded, others were left with better things.
To Remy, it would only have seemed natural that the type of person who should sacrifice everything, the one who should give everything was him.
And in a pivotal moment, when he was faced with only terrible options, Rogue might have told him that he deserved better, that there was life for him. Love for him.
Before he made his choices, there were so many things she could have said.
I love you.
I'm not going anywhere.
I need you in my life.
Instead, Rogue had told him everything he believed about himself was right.
Would he still have made that choice if he thought there was something to live for?
As she sat next to his body, one that would never breathe again, Rogue guessed she would never know.
Rogue's eyelids fluttered open, and she squinted at the bright, fluorescent light of the infirmary.
It had been so dark where she had been, and it had been quiet as the tomb. Except for-
"Chere?" a voice rasped.
Remy?
"Chere?" the voice called, more strained this time.
Rogue gasped, sitting up quickly.
Her head began to spin, and she could hear Kurt and Ororo trying to slow her down, but she waved them away.
"I'm fine. I'm fine."
Rogue heard the familiar sound of Logan releasing his claws, and she shoved the others aside, hurrying in front of them. If Remy tried to attack anyone, she'd rather it be her, and she sure as shit wasn't going to give anyone space—or an excuse—to attack him.
Remy was sitting up on the small bed, holding up a glowing suppression collar, a finger on a similarly glowing cuff on one of his ankles.
Another time she might have been amused.
Guess we ought to have expected that…
"Remy, hang on-" Rogue said, holding a hand out.
Remy saw her, his eyes turning into dinner plates, haunted and terrified.
"Non!" he cried. "Arréte!"
His ankles finally free, he flung himself toward the back wall, still holding up the charged collar, though he was swaying on his feet.
He looked so damn confused and scared. It broke her fucking heart.
"Remy-"
Rogue took a step toward him, and he held out a hand.
"Don't! I'll hurt you."
"That is what we're concerned about-" Logan began.
"Non-" Remy shook his head. "He can make me."
Ah.
He didn't know that he was finally safe. That they were finally safe.
Rogue took another step toward him.
"Please, chere. Don't wanna hurt you," he rasped.
He braced himself against the wall.
"Don't wanna hurt you," he said again, tears forming in his eyes.
Even now he was trying to take care of her.
He slid down to the floor, fortunately releasing the charge rather than tossing the collar their way.
"Please."
It was almost a sob.
Rogue sat next to him, putting an arm around him and pulling him into her.
"Non-"
Remy seemed torn between pushing her away and clinging desperately to her, but he was too weak to resist someone with only a fraction of her strength, so when she kept her grip firm, he had no choice but to give in.
"I've got you, my love."
Another time, Remy would have been allowed to rest, but Xavier and Jean insisted on doing another scan, and Hank wanted to do a full physical exam.
I believe having been both Death and Apocalypse at least warrants the use of a thermometer, Hank had quipped.
For once, Remy had not been amused.
During the scan and exam, Remy continued to shake, and he winced in pain with almost every movement, though he did his best to cooperate. By the time Rogue threatened to knock out anyone who couldn't postpone anything until tomorrow, Remy's body was drooping as much as his eyelids.
Rogue helped him get comfortable on the infirmary bed, placed a cool pillow under his head and pulled a soft sheet over him, but when she briefly moved away, his beautiful eyes flashed with panic, as though he didn't trust that she would come back, as though he still wasn't sure she was actually there.
"I'm here, my love," she'd said reassuringly. "Just grabbin' a chair."
Remy nodded, though his eyes were red-rimmed, held tears that seemed too heavy to fall.
She kissed him on the head.
"Promise."
She pulled the chair over, and by the time she was settled, she could hear soft snoring.
Rogue wasn't sure how long Remy had slept, but she sat with him, watching his chest rise and fall.
Rogue kept finding herself looking him up and down, couldn't quite believe he was comfortable, couldn't quite believe any of what she was seeing in front of her.
Remy finally looked like himself, smelled like himself. And his gorgeous eyes had looked at her with recognition, protectiveness, love. He'd held her the way you cling to a loved one who has gone away, who you never expected to see again, like he was worried she would float away.
One of his beautiful hands still gripped hers firmly, even in sleep, and something about that broke her heart.
She sniffled, stroking his hair with her free hand, massaging his scalp in the way that always soothed him.
Remy sighed in his sleep.
"I'm so sorry, baby," she said quietly. The way she had said a million times since he returned.
She wasn't sure she knew what she was apologizing for at this point.
Sorry for being unclear. For loving you and not telling you. For making you think no one wanted you to stay.
A brief wave of panic flashed through her mind.
What would she do if he didn't remember anything from his time back with them? What would she do if he still didn't know her or how she felt? What would she do if he woke up and was back to the way he'd been before? What would-
Rogue shook her head, wanting to kick herself.
Man's been mind controlled by a monster, and I'm worryin' 'bout myself.
Remy's eyes opened suddenly, and he gasped, struggling to catch his breath.
His eyes fell on her, and his face seemed to flood with panic.
"Non-"
He tried to sit, and his heart monitor sped up.
"Can't stop him-" he choked out. "Don't matter what I do- He could still-"
"Remy-"
He tried to scramble away again, but she kept her grip firm, and his strength was no match for hers.
"Sugar, hang on-"
Rogue saw Hank's eyes widen across the room, and though he watched them closely, he remained where he was.
She stood, putting her arms around Remy.
"Shhh. Baby, you're safe now."
"You can't know that. I done terrible things. Cruel things-"
"Anythin' he made you do wasn't you, sugar."
"It was me. It was still me."
She climbed onto the bed.
"C'mere, love."
She turned so that she could hold Remy closer. He let her, which was probably a good sign.
"Chere, the things I done…" he gasped, tears finally spilling. "Could still make me-"
"He's gone, love."
Remy shook his head, still couldn't catch his breath.
"Could still be there. Every time I thought- Was always there. Couldn't stop him. Shoulda left me in that fuckin' box."
She cupped his face, turning him to look at her. His eyes looked haunted.
"I know it feels that way, baby. But that just ain't true. No matter what you done."
"Non-"
She pulled him into her arms again, and she could feel his chest hitch as he tried to get himself together.
"Took everythin' I could, sugar."
Remy sniffled, though he said nothing.
"I ain't lettin' him get to you again."
She stroked his back in soothing circles.
"And I don't mind fightin' him again if I got to. Don't appreciate him hurtin' the man I love."
She felt Remy tense in her arms.
"Chere… You shouldn't."
He sounded so damn heartbroken.
Rogue kissed him on the head repeatedly.
"I love you," she said firmly. "Always loved you."
"I-"
His gears seemed to have stopped.
"Always will," she continued. "Meant to tell you in Genosha, but you went and got yourself killed. Real inconvenient timin', sugar."
That made him snort.
"Reckon I'll give you a do-over, but only since you're feelin' poorly."
She pulled back to look him in the eye again.
She stroked his face.
"I love you so much."
"Don't deserve it."
"That mean you ain't gonna say it back? Havin' second thoughts 'bout that do-over."
He gave her a watery smile.
"Love you, too," he rasped.
"Good."
Rogue wrapped her arms around him again, her grip tight, and after a moment, he tightened his grip as well.
"We are gonna figure this out, sweetheart. And you got me whether you think you deserve it or not."
They would probably have many moments like this. Probably for a while, while Remy found his way out of the dark, as he learned that he was allowed to exist in the sunshine, to breathe again, to have a heart beating in his chest.
But she wasn't going anywhere, no matter how much he expected to be thrown away, no matter how heartless and terrible he thought he was.
"All o' me's been fightin' for you. And I'm gonna keep fightin'. Even when you don't want to. 'Specially when you don't want to."
She heard him sniffle, could hear his heart monitor beginning to slow down. They were going to figure this out. Some way, somehow.
"No matter what you need. No matter what you're goin' through. I'll be here."
Audio/Podfic Version
(read aloud by me!)
Length: 17:13
Listen: Out of the Night mp3