DARKNESS WITHIN

Part Forty-Six

For the next few days Remy stayed in his bedroom and didn't leave it, resting up his injuries and trying to sleep off the pain. Jean went to Logan's apartment to find that indeed, his wallet, motorcycle, and iPhone had been stolen during the bar fight. He realised it must have all occurred when he'd been blacked out on the street, someone had probably come along and found all three on his person.

Any money he'd had was now gone, along with any proof of his identity (fake or otherwise) and every contact he'd ever had in the phone.

Lying in bed, he felt utterly hopeless. He'd practically lost everything he owned other than the clothes he had. He wasn't even sure he had an identity any more.

Although the effects of the concussion weren't so bad after two days, he was still suffering slight headaches. Despite two fractured ribs (concluded from an in house x-ray) he still dragged himself to the garage to steal Logan's jeep to take to work.

Logan hadn't been in the institute for days, a mission had come up in Canada and he'd taken off to deal with whatever it was. Remy couldn't help but suspect that Logan had taken an extra day or so to escape from the constant worry that Rogue was putting him under.

As he dragged himself into the office an hour late (he no longer had his iphone to use as an alarm) Ron Vesticle stared at him angrily at him, and gestured towards the clock, "what the fuck? You're an hour late! I told you not to pull this shit—what the hell happened to you?" he suddenly asked, gaping at the bruise on Remy's head and the way Remy limped to clock in.

"I got jumped by a band of mutant haters couple of days ago...got a concussion and two fractured ribs...I'm black and blue. But I still dragged my ass to work. Okay, so I'm an hour fucking late, but I still made it, didn't I?" Remy held his card up towards the old fashioned clocking machine, "so do I clock this shit, or am I fired?" he asked irritably.

"I...uhm...are you sure you're able to work?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Look, maybe you should just go home, I'll call in my cousin..."

For the first time since meeting Ron, Remy decided to be direct with him, and truthful. "Look, Ron...I need this job, all right? I got all my shit stolen, my phone, my Harley...jesus, even my fucking wallet, all my bank cards, the cash I had...I seriously and literally do not have a single cent to my name. Don't even got enough for a goddamn coffee...so just let me work so I can get paid. Dock me the hour or whatever."

Remy didn't even wait to see Ron's reaction, he simply went to awkwardly and painfully dragging out the cart with the cleaning supplies.

"Listen, uhm..." Ron leaned over the counter of the reception area, "when you gotta take that thing upstairs call me, I'll get it up there, you...shouldn't be taking things up in that condition...I don't need to be sued for letting you work in that condition and adding to injury."

"Fucks sake, Ron, I ain't gonna sue you," Remy uttered. "Just let me do my goddamn job."

"Okay, okay..." Ron replied sounding quite intimidated.

Remy went to work despite the pain, after a while it didn't seem nearly so bad and didn't seem to hurt so much, at least until he took a break and dozed off in one of the chairs for half an hour unintentionally. After this, the pain seemed much worse. He slacked at every opportunity. Sheets that needed changing and had been used that looked clean enough to him, he did not change, he was in too much pain. If there weren't any semen or urine stains, food stains or drink stains, it was left. He didn't care about dust or dry skin or what the bed bugs might have to feast on, it was still cleaner than what had been there before he'd started working there.

Skimming over the furniture with a duster was the best he could do, he didn't clean the mirrors as he usually did, nor did he touch the windows. He promised himself he'd be more thorough when he felt stronger.

It was unfortunate he wasn't sure how long that would be.

At lunch time he was starving but had no money for food; while replenishing the mini-bars he ate two snickers and a peanut butter cup and hoped that it would hold him until dinner time at the mansion, where he was staying once again.

He headed to the supply closet next to the reception to get some more latex gloves (one of the toilets in an upstairs room was in a ridiculous state and he needed gloves to tackle it), finding Ron sitting there reading a newspaper. He supposed some jobs were easier than others.

"I took a couple of snickers and a peanut butter cup," Remy admitted as he was rifling through boxes of cleaning supplies for the latex gloves, his body racked in pain.

"Huh?" asked Ron.

"I got no money for lunch. I got no lunch with me, just dock it out of my pay or whatever..."

Ron sighed, "is it really that bad?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"You're really that poor?"

"I wish I was fucking joking," Remy retorted, "I hate havin' to live on other people's money. I've always had a way to get more money...but...right now, not a cent. I'm livin' rent free with some friends but I feel like shit, like all I do is take. They make my meals for me, they pay my way...and I got nothin' to give back..."

"Sounds like you have pretty good friends if you ask me," Ron admitted.

"I'm nothin' but a burden. And I'm causin' a lot of problems..."

"What kind of problems?" asked Ron curiously, he went under the counter and pulled out a metal box with a lock on it.

Remy sighed, not sure why he was talking of these things. "There's a girl there...and I just found out a few days ago that she's in love with me," he admitted.

Ron gave a vague laugh, "of course, you, Mr. Ladies Man."

Remy threw him a look, "It's not funny. This girl is in fucking pain...and when she sees me...she's devastated 'cause I don't feel the same."

"Oh..." the smile dropped from Ron's face.

"I like the girl, maybe even love her as a friend, but that's all I got for her...even feel bad that I can't love her."

"She's not hot then? I thought all the girls you knew were hot..."

"She's...not completely unattractive," Remy confessed after a moment.

"So she's plain."

"No...she's just...her eyes are pretty but...look it doesn't matter, all right? I just don't think I could feel that way. It's complicated."

"You brought it up."

"Look, just forget I said anything," Remy responded, he located the gloves.

"So there's nothing about her you like? Or could like?"

"No...well...maybe..." Remy sighed, he paused for a moment, "there's this one thing...I mean, I'm not attracted to her...but...there's some kind of weird...sexual thing. I mean..." he felt suddenly quite embarrassed speaking of this, "I get really...uh..."

"Aroused by her?"

"Is that weird?" Remy asked quietly, he supposed it was advised to ask an older man whom he didn't have to worry about spreading rumours about him at home.

"Not really...my ex-wife...she wasn't even remotely beautiful, but we had a great sexual chemistry. Sometimes that's all you need when attraction isn't enough. When you mesh well, and have similar interests, who cares about attraction? It's only superficial anyway. I mean, I'd still love to fuck a lingerie model, but a hot dirty mind on a woman can be a pretty sexy thing regardless of how many pounds she's stacked on or how plain or unattractive she might be."

Remy thought of this, he supposed there had to be something to it, or so many people in the world wouldn't be having so much sex.

"Want my advice?" Ron asked, he took a twenty dollar bill from the box.

With a shrug, Remy approached the counter to lean on it for some momentary support from the pain, "I suppose," he decided.

"Stick around a while longer and get to know the girl deeper. If you don't feel attracted to her after a good long while, then at least you'll have made a pretty decent friend...but you might find out that there is something there."

Remy sighed, "But what about her? She's so...wound up right now, and I don't want to exacerbate her. It might make things worse."

"It might not. You won't know until you try. You leave now, you might be wondering for the rest of your life about whether you made a mistake or not by leaving...if there might have been something there. If you have the remotest sexual attraction to that girl, then there's something there worth exploring..." Ron slapped the twenty dollar bill onto the counter and pushed it towards him. "Here."

"What's this?" Remy looked down at it.

"Call it an advance," he said, "go get yourself some lunch and some coffee. After that clean room 12 and room 18, then you can take off. I won't dock you."

"You sure?" Remy asked, his stomach growling at the thought of getting lunch right now.

"Yeah. Just don't make a habit out of getting mugged," smirked Ron.

Remy smiled just faintly, as much as the pain in his mouth would allow, "thanks, boss."

Ron spoke up, "And Remy...don't rush the decision...you never know what might happen."

Remy supposed he was right. Besides, he had nowhere else to go and he was in no shape to make a living elsewhere for himself in this condition. He was a prisoner of Bayville, for the time being he'd have to endure that. He and Rogue both, in their respective prisons, the ones they'd set themselves.

Rogue stared at the clock on the Professor's mantle, the pendulum swaying back and forth rhythmically, her eyes feeling slightly relaxed. It was almost hypnotic the way it moved, side to side, the soft gentle ticking. Another clock in the room had a tick that was a half a second off, and the rhythm that they produced together was soothing.

Perhaps that was just the sedative Hank had requested she take before he'd let her out of the cell.

"Rogue?"

She'd been so lost in the sound and the glistening gold of the pendulum on the clock that she'd lost track of time, or where she was. Perhaps that was just the sedative too. Her eyes swayed to the Professor who was sitting at his desk, he'd been filling out paper work.

"Hmm?" she asked.

"Are you feeling all right?" the Professor asked worriedly.

"Mmmhmm," she replied, feeling slightly giddy and dreamlike, everything vaguely hazy when she moved her eyes.

The Professor sighed and wheeled out from behind his desk, he came over to examine her by shining a flash light in her eyes. "You seem a little dazed," he sighed. She saw the conflict in his expression, he hated this situation.

"Ah'm fine," she replied, she couldn't help how her voice sounded strangely emotionless, so drained of all energy. She could see him picking up on it but felt oddly helpless about it.

"For the first few days you may feel somewhat...detached and slightly slow," he explained, "you'll gain a tolerance to it, things will start to feel a little more normal, I promise," he sighed.

She nodded a little, understanding. What else was there to do? For this moment, feeling relaxed and calm even if it was under the influence felt much better than being tense with a fast heartbeat and staggered breath. She didn't want to be medicated, but right now she'd rather be in a stupor than have Remy walk out on her without at least seeing she was trying to help herself.

"I really do not like medicating you like this," the Professor turned the flash light off, "if I had any other choice-"

"Ah know..." she tried to reassure him that she understood his dilemma.

Professor Xavier looked towards the floor, his expression deep and thoughtful, "I once judged Magneto for doing so with Wanda..." he confessed, "what a fool I must look now."

Even Ah knew that Wanda needed medicated...maybe if Magneto had paid more attention and made her take it, things wouldn't have gotten so far? Rogue wondered. "Has Remy talked to you?"

"No," said the Professor, "I went to see him this morning but his room was empty and his bed was made. Apparently he decided to go to work..."

Rogue supposed she'd have been more frantic at the thought Remy may get himself more hurt by working in the condition he was in if she hadn't been so doped up on whatever these pills were. The Professor and Hank had already told her five times what they were, she still couldn't remember whatever the hell it was. It didn't seem to matter any more.

"What happened to him?" Rogue asked quietly. No one had told her. Remy had shown up in the cell looking completely beaten, his face bruising on one side, his eyes glassy, his body black and blue. But no one was willing to talk about it.

"It's not important," said the Professor calmly. "I think we should discuss your situation instead."

"Oh," she said; she supposed she'd be more unhappy with the subject matter if it weren't for the pills either. Maybe she'd been too quick to dismiss the idea of medication when a psychiatrist had spoken to her not long after her evolution had failed. Not feeling a thing might be a blessing if she wasn't allowed to die...

"For the moment, I think you should continue to sleep in the cell at night," the Professor explained, "that way we can monitor you. Perhaps in a few weeks or so we can see how things progress and whether it would be ideal to let you back out to sleep in your room."

"Ah'm not gonna do anything," she replied aith a heavy sigh, "Ah'm done with it."

"I wish I could believe you," the Professor said sadly, "but your past behaviour has completely negated all the trust I had ever placed upon you. You need to work and rebuild your life if you ever expect me to have any belief or trust in you..." he explained. "And I know I'm not the only one who feels that way..."

"Logan?" she asked quietly. He had not been to see her since she'd been put in that cell. She'd expected him to come in and visit, to try and talk her into being more cooperative, but she was starting to believe he may have given up on her. She was a lost cause...he was starting to put much more belief in Remy who was at least proving his worth.

"Logan will come around, Rogue," the Professor decided.

"He hasn't been to see me..." she admitted.

"Logan is...a complicated man. And your condition hurts him to watch. He made his feelings clear that he doesn't want to see you under the effects of prescriptions. He understands there is very little option left, but he does not want to see you like this. Do you understand?"

"Ah guess..." Rogue leaned back in the chair and stared to the clock again, following it with her eyes.

"I want to give the medication a chance, while undergoing therapy again..."

"But Ah tried therapy before, it didn't work," she grunted.

"It didn't work because you didn't want it to work," Professor Xavier explained, "this time you claim that you are willing to make changes..."

"Ah am," she assured.

"Then you'll undergo therapy...as a condition for being allowed out of the cell, and you'll continue with medication," the Professor continued, "In a few weeks, if all goes well, I'd like to look at possibly having you work on some further education. Hank is more than willing to help you with getting the English degree you had originally planned on before you had decided to take on Drama when going to Bayville community college."

Rogue turned her eyes back to the Professor, "Ah don't think it would do me much good, Professor."

"You don't have to give me an answer right this second," the Professor decided, "but do think about this. I can bring in tutors for you, and Hank will provide whatever guidance and support you need for anything else just as he'll be doing for Kitty."

She wasn't sure she agreed that it'd be of any use to further her education. What good was she? She supposed it would give her something to do other than lie on a mattress in that cell down in the sub-basement. Would it help if Remy saw her taking on a few college courses? Would it be enough to convince him that she was willing to try?

"Ah'll think about it," she slurred.

Her mind drifted to Magneto's offer. She'd been thinking about it much over the past few days but had come no closer to deciding the best course of action to take. If she didn't feel quite apathetic thanks to the medication, she was sure she'd have been more conflicted about the offer.

"Professor?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he glanced over to her.

She wanted to ask about his advice on the subject. If he thought this was a wise decision that she go through the evolution a second time. She couldn't make that decision herself any more and since everyone else here seemed to be making her decisions for her it almost seemed necessary he make that one for her too. But she hesitated to ask, she was almost sure his answer would be the one she didn't want to hear.

But wouldn't Magneto's way be better than all of this? If it did work, wouldn't it save so much time and worry and strain? Would it take all of it away? The misery and suffering? Would she be free of absolutely everything? Would there be a life to rebuild after?

"Can Ah go to the bathroom?"

"I-"

"Ah'm havin' a period," she confessed, fighting off only the vague sense of embarrassment she knew she should have had. She supposed it was lucky that the period had stopped abruptly just before her incarceration in that tiny little cell, but this morning when she'd been getting dressed it had started coming back in full force, and as she sat there should could feel it every time she so much as shifted slightly in her seat. Unpredictable, painful and persistent, just as it was every month.

"You have one minute," the Professor said, "I'll call Ororo and have her to check on you in the bathroom," he picked up the phone.

Rogue got up, feeling giddy again as she moved. She stumbled a little through the room and into the hallway to find the nearest bathroom. Just as she'd gotten to the door and was about to put her hand on the knob, her eyes caught Remy LeBeau limping down the hall towards his room. She stood watching him; it looked like agony and she supposed if she hadn't been on sedatives she'd feel more heartbroken and worried for him.

As it was all she could feel was a lingering sense that she wanted to be with him.

He caught her staring at him just as he reached the door of his room at the end of the rather long hall, and he stopped. He was looking at her; from so far away it was hard to tell what his expression was, especially when her mind was already so foggy.

Bathroom, she reminded herself.

Remy disappeared into his bedroom, she stood waiting for a moment, trying to decide what to do. She had the threat of leaking blood through her underwear and leggings, but she also had the need to try and talk to him, to try and make it clear of her intentions to work at this, and to make sure he didn't leave before she could prove to him that she could work through this.

It seemed to take forever to get to that door, and it was hanging open just a little as she approached; she gazed in through the ajar door, seeing him undressing carefully, saw him wincing in pain. Some of the bruises were already turning yellow, but they still looked painful and angry.

Remy paused where he stood just as he was unbuttoning his jeans; he seemed to sense she was there and he turned to look over his shoulder, spotting her spying through the open door. He gave a sigh and limped his way over, he said nothing, he just stood there looking through the gap at her.

"Hi..." she said, feeling a little unsteady, she held onto the wall at the side of the frame and tried to be still. "You okay?"

"I'll get by," he remarked, "always do..."

"Can Ah come in?" she asked.

He lowered his eyes to the floor, "don't think it's wise, Rogue..."

Whatever happened to chere? She despaired, feeling that his rejection would have felt much worse under the usual circumstances. "We should talk."

"We've already talked," he pointed out, "And I've said everythin' I can about it all..." he explained sounding drained and sore, he went to push the door shut on her, she stopped the door, catching it with her hand by curling it around; even as her fingers crushed against the wood of the frame she didn't feel it. She pushed back a little, gazing in at him.

"Ah wasn't lyin' when Ah said Ah'm gonna try..." she tried to explained.

He stared at her, but said nothing to either congratulate her or disagree with that. His dark eyes were so incredibly tired, she could read how frustrated and saddened he was. She'd put that look there, put it there when she'd accused him of being the reason she was in this mess.

"They got me on meds," she continued.

"I know," he said quietly, his eyes dropping again, he looked upset about this, but he didn't admit to it.

"And...Ah'm gonna be lookin' into takin' up some classes at home...and therapy..."

"I see," he replied quietly.

"And Ah'll be back in the danger room soon...and doin' chores...and maybe I'll be unsupervised soon..."

"Yeah, and then you'll be right back to throwin' yourself into whatever stupid way you think is gonna get you killed," Remy snapped, he looked quite guilty about it suddenly, he looked away from her.

"No," Rogue tried to be emphatic, but it came off sounding very unconvincing and dull in her lingering exhaustion and haze. "Ah'm gonna really work at it this time, Ah swear...Ah'm gonna be the girl you remember..." she assured, "the same one who-"

"But you're not the same," he interrupted as he banged his hand against the door frame frustratedly, "You're not the same. I'm not the same. We are not the same people you want us to be and we can't be them again. Stop standin' here tryin' to convince me, I'm not the one you need to prove anythin' to. You wanna get well for someone, Rogue, do it for you, not for me..."

Rogue felt strangely numb to the way he was snapping at her like this, she was very aware of how normally she'd have been in tears by now.

Remy took a moment, seeming to be struggling to calm himself down, "You need to understand that whether you do this or not...nothing will be the way it was."

"Ah..." she tried, but nothing further would come out.

"Do you get what I'm saying?" he asked of her seriously, "do you understand?"

She took a moment to consider things. She was almost certain she understood what he was suggesting was that regardless of what she did, he would never be the same Remy. He wouldn't love her and he wasn't going to try to. "It's over...for good," she sighed.

He softened his tone, "I'm sorry, Rogue...This ship...it sailed long ago...the wind carried it away and it ain't gonna make it back...the waters are too dangerous now, there's too many rocks that would damage the hull. It barely survived the damage done before...goin' back to that place would be dangerous..."

She thought it almost poetic that he put it this way. She'd have been touched and impressed if she could feel much other than apathy and numbness inside. "For me or for you?" she dared to ask.

He considered this, "You think this is easy for me? You think it's easy having memories about lovin' a girl but not actually havin' an emotion to connect it to? I see images of us together in my head and...nothin'. Do I care about you? Yes, absolutely, but more like...christ, like a brother would care for a sister..."

Rogue wondered if that were enough, if he were to stay and just care like that, how would it be different from how their relationship had been before they had begun experimenting? The friendship had felt fantastic, it had been nice looking forward to spending time with him, the laughter they'd shared, the conversations. Could it be like that again?

Perhaps it would suffice if she were willing to accept that was all it could be. Perhaps even if he had been able to love her, it would have been like that regardless, there would have never been any progress, just this deep state of friendship.

"And I don't want to go," he confessed, he looked her dead in the eyes, his expression clouded with misery, "but I will if it's going to protect you. That's all I got to give you...it's the most love I can offer you."

Rogue dropped her eyes to the floor, "Magneto thinks he can cure me..."

Remy's face seemed to darken, he stared at her, his mouth tight.

"He says this time it works, that-"

Remy interrupted, "You ever hear the expression once bitten, twice shy?"

Rogue blinked, "Uhm..."

"Why tell me?" he snorted, "you didn't want my advice the last time, accordin' to Logan I did everythin' I could to stop you and failed. Why ask now?"

She had no answer.

"I was once told that you got a mind to do whatever you're gonna do regardless of what any one else says," he remarked quietly, "nothin' I do makes a difference."

"That's not true..." she struggled to focus, feeling foggy minded with the pills, "Remy...everythin' you've done has gotten me further than anyone else ever did..." she tried.

"Maybe I also dragged you back further than anyone else did," he pointed out.

"No..." she shook her head.

"Remy, Ah need your advice on this...Ah need-"

"My blessin'?" He asked sceptically, "or are you lookin' for any kind of indication that if you could be free of your powers that I'd give it a chance with you?"

She wasn't sure what she was looking for. Perhaps it was just echoes of the old Rogue inside of her aching to be reminded of what a bad idea it was, to hear him tell her not to do it, to beg her not to so things could feel as they had been.

"What you do with Magneto's machine...or what you do with the Professor, it's up to you. I gave you what little advice I had to give. Get well for you, not for me, not for anyone else...you're the only one you need to prove yourself to, the only one you need to make happy is you."

She felt deflated, she couldn't persist, she hadn't the energy or the focus.

"I think we should maybe...stay apart for a while, you know?" He asked, "it'll make things easier on us both. I'll stay for the time bein' but...I think we should stop spendin' time together, stop talkin'...just let each other breathe..."

Logic told her he was right, the apathy told her that when the drugs wore off she was going to hurt when the thought of this really hit her. Right now, she felt barely capable of anything other than thinking; feelings were not on the list of effects of this pill.

"I hope you find whatever you're lookin' for, Rogue..." he sighed, pushing the door slowly, "Good luck...with whatever decision you make. I'm sorry I can't make it for you."

As the door quietly shut, she heard footsteps coming down the hall, Ororo was approaching, looking concerned. She went to the bathroom and dealt with her period issues and returned to the Professor's office to sit and quietly consider things.

She supposed she had a lot of thinking to do. She didn't need to make a decision now, the offer was on the table, it might gather dust but it wasn't going anywhere. She didn't have to decide this moment. She had time...all she had these days was time.

There were other offers on the table to. Death wasn't one of them, death was never going to be an offer. What was on the table? Friendship, support, therapy, those were what she had to take in the meantime until she decided whether she was ready to take Magneto's offer. After an hour of thinking of things, she got up and moved to look out of the window behind the Professor's desk, feeling his eyes follow her all the while.

Outside, the sun was shining, the grass seemed greener than it ever had, and the spring flowers were already in full bloom with deep purples pristine whites and incredible vivid blues. Her heart had been broken, her life had been torn apart, but outside birds were singing, the sky was a bright intense shade of blue that the ocean would envy and there was barely a cloud to be seen. Not everything was grey as it had always seemed, not everything was cold and dark. Regardless of Remy's rejection, he was still going to stay, she'd still have him near in some sense or the other. At least she wouldn't have to worry about him being alone or what he was doing to survive.

And somehow, the rejection that should have shattered her left her feeling oddly...free. It was almost as if right at that moment the darkness within that had been gripping onto her seemed to lift as the sun beam spilling through the window warmed her. Whether it was the pills in her system or whether it was the release from the relationship she'd been clinging onto since the day she'd put Remy into a coma, she was unsure, but something had changed. She couldn't put her finger on it, and she didn't want to. All she knew was that the darkness was lifting now. Something was changing...things had to change and it was finally time to accept it and flow with it.

"Professor?" she asked softly, holding onto the windowsill lightly.

"Yes, Rogue?"

"It's a beautiful day outside."

The Professor turned his chair and came up beside her, to look outside with her. She felt him place his hand firmly on top of hers and she heard him say, "Perhaps there will be many more to come."

"Perhaps there will be..." she sighed serenely, "perhaps."

END

Who's screaming? Was it a good enough conclusion to end with? I'm sure there'll be a few opinions on that lol.

Perhaps it's a strange place to leave it off but regardless of how dark most of the story was, it feels slightly positive here, at least for me. Was it epiphany or was it just the meds? Who knows. We'll all probably wait until the sequel to find out (and there's already nine whole pages of that written so I'm optimistic it'll happen in the future.

As for Derranged Marriage's sequel at the moment, argh...I don't know, it needs A LOT of TLC (all 96 something pages of it). I'm tempted to post a few chapters of it (Trouble in St. Tropez) but I'm blocked on the progress (there's about nine different versions of where the chapter I got to had ended which makes it difficult somewhat, lol). It'd take a bit of reminding myself where I was on Derranged Marriage and TiST to get up to speed, and try to figure out where it's heading lol. Also really want to get I, Assassin finished even though no one is reading it anymore, lol.

So many stories, so many ideas, so little time, organization and happy pills, lol. Ah. Can't wait to see your reviews and thoughts about the end of the story. I hope you all enjoyed it and it's been a joy working on it and getting it up, especially the past few days. I love you all, and I appreciate you all for sticking around and taking the time to let me know you're still here enjoying reading as much as I enjoyed writing it.