riverviewlogs | I will burn your kingdom down...

Entry tags:

I will burn your kingdom down...

who: Remy & Rogue
what: Sickness and feels. Rogue's recovering and it's comatimes for Cajun.
when: Mid May.
where: Remy's floor/bunk in communal housing.
warnings: Sickness talk. Possible language.

The nanites had hit Rogue slow and steady from the beginning, the symptoms manifesting much like the flu mixed with Terrigen mist poisoning, which was something the mutant had managed to live with for quite sometime back home before they were able to develop a cure of sorts. Hell, she couldn't really tell if she were on the mend or getting worse, but many others were falling severely ill at alarming rates.

With super soldiers and gods falling victim to what seem to be a mix of magic and tiny tech that appears to be affecting everyone differently, she's terribly worried for her people. The most important of those people will always be Remy. No matter what level of complication or non-romance they were at, Rogue would love and look after him as best she could. She had his back to the end. Why else would she wear a ridiculous looking
sterile face mask when she visited the other mutant?

To avoid unnecessarily contaminating internal surfaces in the communal housing areas, she arrived via flying up to their outdoor area and carefully walked inside, peering around for Remy, checking the kitchen first before heading towards his bunk. She came with a bag of supplies to actually doctor him should the need arise, but she hoped for this to merely be a social visit where she could attempt to lift his spirits a bit regardless.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Careful with mah skin Remy. Wouldn't want you in a coma." She breathed, heart slamming in her chest and focusing her her entire attention on the man in front of her, the one snake in the garden that nobody could pin down. And she just had to fall head over heels for him.

Even as he slid the garter carefully over her heel and up her thigh, she knew that he would be her everything. Her beginning and her end. He couldn't touch her, which meant they could never fully connect. He was going to smash her heart into a million pieces.

And she had handed him the hammer.

"Non, we wouldn't want that." His grin was dashing and devious, eyes focused on her and seemingly through her.

It's too late.

Her gloved hand gripped his tighter as she slept partially in a chair and partially on top of the comatose Remy in his hospital bed, not wanting to let go of him even in her dreams. Especially in her dreams. When she managed sleep, the guilt laden dreams took over. She'd been like that ever since he'd fallen into the coma, which had always been her second worst fear, the other being his death. But despite their many brushes and close calls, they'd always come out the other side in more or less one piece. Always.

She couldn't seem to remember exactly how long it'd been since she watched him slip into a coma, how long she'd been more or less living at his bedside. That moment, followed by the controlled chaos that was her flying him to the hospital and aggressively finding him a bed and the top doctors, may have not been her most shining moments, but he was her person. She would fight for him until the end.

Which would explain her disheveled and sleepless appearance with bags under her eyes and bedhead the 80s would have been jealous of even now. She's been rocking the leggings paired with an oversized sweater look since it all went South, showering only when necessary and only when someone she could trust watched over him.

"Where's the fun in comas?"

"Putting you in one? Is that the fun?" It's a counter that she regretted, but that's how it happened. That's how they were.

They say you can hear people when you're in a coma, and though time was an undefined mass mulling around in his mind as something sort of like a hardening began to take root in his thoughts. His sense of hearing came to him first. There was the rush of air, from a vent or something like it, the rhythmic beeping of some undefined machine. That systemic sequence connected with an idea in his mind, but he couldn't place it at first. Attached to it were several emotions, most negative. Fear. Loss. Helplessness. It wasn't until his sense of smell caught up with him that he identified the sound.

An IV distributor and heart monitor. Hospital. There was a softness he was laying upon, he noted, and a firm but gentle grip on his hand that he'd become aware of. He breathed in deeply, the scent of her hair winning out over the chemical smells of disinfectant. Anna. The struggle to open his eyes for a long time felt like a losing battle, so instead, he turned his head in her direction, trying to lift his hand but deciding it was too head. His mouth felt like sandpaper, and no amount of licking his lips seemed to do anything about it.

If he spoke, or if he tried, he would only croak, he knew that.

If that's true, then Remy may have picked up on the conversations Rogue would occasionally have with him, or more accurately, to him while staying with him these past however many days. Sometimes she spoke of fond memories shared between them, voice full of love and longing for what she once thought were simpler times, but she realized was just times when they were together and trusting each other. The truth of it was that life had never really been simple for them being who they were in their world, and apparently life wasn't simple here either.

So, she apologized as though he could hear her, genuinely and with her heart and soul, as though those apologies would count as bonus prayers. Rogue may not understand magic and all the powers found in the multiverses, but she would try nearly anything if it meant Remy would get better.

Even though he barely moved, the weight shift pulled her sharply from her fitful half-sleep, her eyes snapping open as hope filled her like a shot of adrenaline. When she lifted her head to properly look at him, however, her own voice caught in her throat as she tried to determine whether it had simply been in her head or not. Exhaling, she gave his hand a squeeze as she reached up to push the hair tenderly from his scruffier than usual face.

"Come back to me babe. Ah know you can fight your way back." If there were something else she could do for him, she'd have done it, but for now she could only be there and be positive.

Her gentle squeeze of his hand did more than any sounds could to bring him further back to reality. It was a comfortable pretty, reassuring and loving, and he found he recognized the shape of those fingers, the size of the smaller hand around his. Rogue. His brow furrowed with the concentration required to open his eyes, and even in the dim light of the hospital room, he immediately had a headache as soon as they light hit his eyes.

He blinked them closed again almost immediately, but not before turning his head slightly into her touch. He licked his lips in a vain attempt to moisten them. What was meant to be her name turned into nothing but a groan.

It's not much, his movements and slight signs of life, but it's proof of recovery, however minimal. It's enough to send Rogue into a conniption of sorts, eyes widening and hand squeezing his tightly, though not enough to harm him.

"Remy!" She exhaled in a hoarse whisper as she stood abruptly, voice heavy in emotion as the chair she sat in scraped loudly out of her way. Her heart was in her chest, pounding as warmth washed over her, a wide, somewhat startled smile threatening to split her face in half as the hand smoothing through his hair moved to cup his cheek tenderly. "Shh, don't try an' speak if it hurts. Ah ain't goin' nowhere."

Not that she's been anywhere else really, but that's beside the point. It took a few moments, but she soon realized that fat, hot tears were actively rolling down her face and onto the bed, dropping onto his arm and shoulder before she could stop them.

"You scared the hell out of me Remy Etienne LeBeau," she murmured finally, resisting the urge to shake him in her pain and frustration.

He coughed then, weakly, and it was enough to get the saliva flowing in his mouth again. A few swallows and he was even able to open his eyes, having finally adjusted to the dim light around him. It was strange. There seemed to have been some time that had passed, which you didn't normally notice when you were asleep, but he could wrap his mind around it, as though it were just out of reach somehow.

He cleared his throat again, moving his head to watch her as she stood, the corner if his mouth quirking up in a smirk at her annoyance. It was a sight to see when he first opened his eyes. All he ever really wanted.

"Ain' de first time, is it?" It was a weak question, but it spoke to his mind waking up at least.

She continued to smooth his hair while he regained his senses, eyes acutely watching his every movement to double and triple check that he's not only awake, but in better health. He looked like hell compared to his usual vitality, but he sure appeared leaps and bounds better than before he slipped into the coma. He was on the mend, Rogue concluded, exhaling in great relief.

Instead of swatting him for his sassy question, she merely gave his hand another squeeze and made the effort (assisted greatly with her flight) to perch herself next to him on his bed, bringing their hands into her lap.

"An' ah'm sure it won't be the last time either." She resigned before falling quiet and into her own head for several moments. "Ah don't want it to be the last."

That brought a smile to his lips. Every new sensation served to wake up his senses more and more and he gave her hand a squeeze as she pulled them both into her lap. His thoughts themselves were difficult to sort through, and he decided to just not try. He instead tilted his head in her direction, a gentle smile on his lips.

"Don't you worry, mon cher. I'll keep right on scarin' the Hell outta you."

She kept his hand in her gloved ones, smiling fondly as he returned the squeeze after days of wanting any sign that he pulling free of the coma, and now he's here and back with her. A mix of emotions still swirled within her as her thoughts tried their best to settle among themselves.

"You better," she drawled softly, running her thumb along his skin as she shifted her gaze to her lap thoughtfully.

"Remy..." Trailing off, she glanced up at him again, his features long since memorized, and yet she found a home in the scruffy line of his jaw, the curl of his lips, and the depth of his eyes. It'd been a home she'd been denying for so long, waiting for things to be 'right,' whatever that meant. Her attention moved to the IV in his arm. "When you're feelin' up for it, ah'd like to talk to you 'bout somethin'."

She'd had far too much time to think on things with an updated perspective.

His brow furrowed gently at her words, and he blinked as though not fully understanding them, at least at first. They wormed their way sluggishly through his thoughts, connecting with concepts and only leading to his frown deepening.

He didn't like the sound of that. He moved his head slightly, to look more directly toward her, as much as he could at least.

"...what about, cher?"

She fell silent at that question, opening her mouth to speak before closing it, not quite decided on how she's going to start. He's just woken from a coma after all.

Slipping the hand closest to him from their hands, she reached over to push the hair from his forehead, fingertips trailing along the side of his face tenderly, meant to reassure him.

"Us." Realizing that could go either way, she quickly continued glancing back to their hands. "If you'll have me."

Well that wasn't much clearer, so she keeps talking. "Ah mean, we ain't from the same time back home and things are in flux, or whatever in my time..."

But she's willing to put in that work.

Us. She'd said that before, and he felt the same old anticipation well up in his heart only to come crashing back down when she said the same old words. Excuses. Why this wouldn't work, not yet, it's not time, we're not ready. He let out a quiet sigh and let his head fall back on the pillow.

"Not if it's more excuses, Rogue. I don' want more 'a those."

She shook her head at reaction, at his words. He's right, and she's frustrated at herself for a great many things, her poor choice of words included.

"No more excuses. Just truths." Her gaze returned to him, settling on his features. "Ah've loved you since the day ah laid eyes on you Remy." Rogue paused, but her voice still broke slightly when she continued. "Thinkin' ah'd lost you put a good many of my fears in perspective."

His breath caught in his throat at her words, but he smiled. He wondered for a moment whether or not he'd drifted back to sleep if this was some sort of fantasy from which he'd wake and find things were just the same as they always were.

"I ain't goin' anywhere." Except maybe waking up again.

"You best not." She'd rather not think of that option any more.

Nope, not a dream, at least that's her hope as well. Part of her worried his waking was her dream, that he's still in a coma, but at his smile, Rogue grinned right back, her own heart jumping in her chest.

"This is the part where ah'd accost you with a kiss cajun." Longingly, her thumb trailed along his lips. There's plenty more to say, but he's just up from a near death experience, also known as The Usual for them.

He continued to smile because there was no other reaction to all of his dreams for the future seeming to come together at once. They'd seemed like unconquerable goals for a while now, too, but inescapable, even if they'd never happen. Maybe it took coming to another reality, getting trapped there, for her to realize there wasn't anything perfect.

Maybe he was just settling, after all the things they'd been through...but he couldn't even entertain that idea for very long. He'd always known this was their destiny, that they were each others' destiny. It was about time the girl started catching up.

"I'll take a rain check, cher, I jus' woke up an' all."

Her heart had always known. Lack of love had never been the problem, but there had been too much baggage and frustration that stemmed from that. To be fair, there's still a ridiculous amount of unresolved issues, but they became much less important when faced with the prospect of losing him forever. The other reality definitely helped show her that even in seemingly benign alternative universes, there will always be another shoe.

She'd had time to think on their pasts, on her regrets, and what she would do right if she were given that chance. And here they were.

"Ah suppose you're right." She murmured with an exaggerated sigh of annoyance, but that grin of hers fought past the attempt at irritation. Instead, she gave his lower lip a playful pinch and tug before releasing it and pushing some of his hair from his forehead. "You thirsty?"

There was no denying Remy was a man who loved touching, but the contact Rogue gave him was always enough. He supposed he understood why she needed it, she felt disconnected from the world at large due to her inability to control her powers, but he'd never understood why he'd never been enough. Maybe there was too much between them, Lord knew he still thought to Antarctica occasionally, of her abandoning him there, leaving him to die for all she knew.

Now wasn't the time. Soon, maybe, but not now. Now? He was just going to smile, to nod at her question.

"Like I ain' had water in hears, cher."

It's difficult to remember what it felt like to be able to touch one another properly, even if the circumstances hadn't always been ideal.
The passion and the love, like a Johnny Cash song turned reality, burned hot and deep, connecting them in a way that may never be possible again. While he deserved better, she'd come to realize that he'd chosen her despite all that and more, and damnit if she didn't love him all the more for putting up with her through it all.

They've both made mistakes, and while it wasn't exactly water under the bridges, Rogue also wanted to focus on this moment. Lord knows she thought of their mistakes, hers in particular, often enough and that they can't leave it all unaddressed, that much she knew. Now wasn't the time for that.

For the moment, she simply gave his hands a squeeze, reaching over with her free one to pour him a glass on the waiting side table. "That won't do," she countered, plunking a straw in the glass and carefully bringing it to his lips. "Go easy."

Remy was pretty sure they'd been here before, someone in a hospital bed, the other playing nurse. What were their lives even that this could almost become familiar if not comfortable? How did two people like them become something like this? There had been several times in his life as an X-Men that he'd wished he'd gone back to New Orleans, done what he'd needed to do, and settled back into his life of crime and taking his place in the family business and left the superheroing to someone else.

Then he'd remember, if he'd done that, he'd never have a woman like Rogue caring for him like she was today, bending a straw for him to take a drink, looking at him with such love and adoration in her eyes that he could almost believe nothing bad had happened between the two of them, and that maybe, just maybe, they were going to be alright after all.

No. Sometimes, going home was tempting, sometimes his life felt too big for him, but then he would look at her, or hear her voice, and he'd realize he was wrong. That this, wherever it lead him, was where he belonged.

He smiled gently at her, and took a small sip from the glass she provided. There was a metaphor in there, too, but it teased just beyond his perception.

"Merci, cher."

She'd often wondered along the same line, when terrible thing after terrible thing would befall the X-Men or mutantkind. Not everyone had healing factors, but everyone fought for to protect others. In the end, they've just learned to try and treasure the little things in life, and she'd need reminding of that.

"Just so you know," she started with a tilt of her head, trying to subdue the 'cat ate the canary' grin that's threatening to break free. "Ah threatened the nurse with bodily harm when she tried to give you a sponge bath." At that point, Rogue attempted to appear as though she'd done him a great favor in that action, and she's also not pointing out the fact that he's clean and didn't smell positively terrible. Quite the opposite actually.

She's just going to let him draw his own conclusions.

As Remy's mind slowly rejoined the land of the living, and as he was slowly able to piece together threads of thought from evidence given, a slow smile began to tease at the corners of his lips. He wasn't surprised, not in the least, that Rogue had threatened bodily harm on another woman touching him, at this point in his life he was pretty sure it was going to be her or no one for him for the rest of his days, but he wasn't dirty, he hadn't been sitting in his own filth.

That left only one option, and it was one he was really enjoying imagining, even if he was going to play annoyed until she called him on his BS. He could do a lot of BSing before that happened.

He turned his head toward her slightly, raising an eyebrow.

"You mean ta tell me you had yo' hands all over me and I didn't even get to enjoy it?"

That smile of his did absolutely nothing to diminish her self-satisfied amusement. On the contrary, Rogue appeared even more pleased as pie with herself it his mock irritation, but more importantly, she felt more at home than she had since arriving here, what with them sassing each other with practiced ease. No doubt something that was long deserved right after several large emotional weights had finally been lifted: some semblance of home and happiness.

"Are you insinuatin' that ah missed a spot?"

It's most certainly a challenge, her counter to his attempt at annoyance. Plus, how dare he question the quality of her work? She's clearly a professional.

It was funny how easy it was to slip into practiced rolls and he moved, surprised a bit at how much of en effort it was, to raise on his elbows and put himself closer to her, grinning wickedly as he did so.

"Now, you know there ain' no way for me ta me sure in my current situation, cher, but yo' welcome ta check."

Wicked grin or not, Rogue knew him well enough to catch how much of an effort the movement was for Remy. So, she took the opportunity to release his hands and lean in real close, countering his grin with a sultry one of her own as she reached clear past him to readjust his pillows to be more supportive now that he's sitting more upright.

"Sounds like you're suggestin' ah get right scandalous with you in a hospital room." She admonished while speaking in a low, teasing drawl.

If he's appreciative of the attention to his pillows, which he is, he doesn't show it, at least he does his model best not to, but there are just some things you can't keep out of the relaxing of your shoulders to the slack in your brow. That and when a woman knows you as well as Rogue does, it's damned near impossible to hide anything. Still, he continues to grin even as he allows himself to settle back onto those pillows.

"What, mon coeur, you never wanted ta play nurse?"

Pillows situated to her liking after he's leaned back on them, Rogue shifts on the bed to move closer, the length of her outer thigh pressing along the length of his through the covers as she leaned over him, inside hand planting on the bed outside his hips for stability she didn't technically need. The other hand returns to push hair from his face, tutting softly when it fell back on his forehead.

"Perhaps, but it sure looks like you're more than able to give yourself your own sponge baths now."

To be honest, giving him a sponge bath while he's awake and ready to participate would end up far more dirty than clean, and for now, he needed to rest.

He pouted at her response, but didn't protest her closeness. They didn't need full contact, not in Remy's opinion, though when they could get it, it was damn sure nice.

"I don' know, cher. I might take some time ta recover. Ain' ever been infected by no nanite virus before." But even the animation he'd mustered thus far had taken more out of him that he'd realized. He was awake, but he felt like sleep sounded like a great idea. It didn't feel like he had when he'd nearly slipped away from her. It just felt warm, and close, and safe. "Yo' stayin', right?"

She huffed playfully, but truth be told she had zero issue assisting him bathe while he was still recovering because she loved him and had the perfect gloves for the occasion. Her smirk said as much even though she shrugged a shoulder. "Well ah wouldn't want you to pull somethin' tryin' to wash between your toes."

As she joked, Rogue could see the exhaustion tugging him back, but it looked and felt light years different from when he slipped into the coma. Still, she looked right ready to fuss over him. Her eyebrow lifted at his question, and she consequently maneuvered herself so that she stretched out horizontally, floating over the side of the bed closest to the nightstand with the water. She's poised ready to lay down with him and provide herself as an additional pillow.

"Ah'm all yours Remy."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I will burn your kingdom down...

If time is a circle, then everything happens at once.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject