Disclaimer: I'm not making any money off the property (as of below) of
Marvel. I wish I
did tho'. :)
Note: This story doesn't exactly follow the comic timeline, but this
is
when
Rogue and Remy were seeing better days in
their relationship
definately
before the kiss and the
dark secret thingie, I just wrote it to play
around with the
idea (yeah, why not. After all if Magneto can do
it...);
and to break into fan-fic pages. I hope everyone digs this one
and
we'll
see what else I can come up with.
Here goes. All
comments to rogue79@mbox3.singnet.com.sg please.
I DON'T REMEMBER
- Part One
Vicki Lew
June 1997
She stared at his empty and
neatly-made bed. It'd been in that exact state
for three days now, and although Rogue knew that
Remy LeBeau could take
care of himself very well, she couldn't help but worry. The last time
she
saw the man was the night when he'd gone off for his after-dinner ride on
his Harley --
but he always came back to the mansion before midnight.
Except this
time.
Rogue looked around his room for the umpteenth time, hoping to find a
note
lying somewhere around that would tell her of his whereabouts, but the
search was
somewhat futile.
"He's a big boy, Rogue. He ain't gonna get into any trouble he can't
get
out
of," A voice growled behind her. It was Wolverine. "Don'cha worry.
Get some
sleep, Rogue."
"Ah will. Just not now." The
X-woman sat wearily on the black satin laden
bed.
"Something's happened, ah just
know it. Ah feel it in my gut. How can ah
*not*
worry?"
Wolverine
chuckled and said in a teasing tone, "Someone's fallen hard, eh?"
With that, he
turned and left the room.
Gazing after the stocky man, Rogue hugged herself and managed
a wistful
smile.
"Maybe so, Wolvie. Maybe
so."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ow."
He
could've sworn he heard some part of his body crack.
"Ow, ow, ow.
Merde..."
A grunt escaped from the dishevelled man as he pushed himself up into
a
sitting
position on the bed. His hands cradled his head as it throbbed painfully,
and
he
tried to think.
'Dis not right. I don' seem t'belong here...'
"Hello.
Good to see you're up," The voice emerged from the doorway of the
cozy
room.
"How're you feeling?"
His eyes looked up slowly, carefully so as not to strain
his heavy head,
and met
with a pair of beautiful green ones. Somehow, in the back of his
head, he
knew he
had seen green eyes more dazzling than those of now. But where and
whose,
he
didn't know.
"Like a goner," he rasped. "Where
dis place?"
"Oh, my apartment." The woman busied herself with
wringing a flannel. She
stopped
halfway through and looked shyly at him. "Thank
you for yesterday...I don't
even
know your name!"
The man sighed as the
icy-cold flannel was put to his flushed face.
"My name?" He winced as he tried
to recall. "Name..."
She pinned him with a curious yet worried gaze.
"Yes, your name. I'm
Jenny
Owens."
"Jenny?"
"Well?"
"I
don'
remember."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
'Oh
boy,' I thought to myself as I struggled to haul my mystery man out of
the car.
'I have an
amnesiac on my hands!'
He groaned as I threw his arm around my shoulder. Puffs of steam
clouded my
vision
as I heaved with my exertions that chilly evening.
"Come
on, sweetcheeks, you're not helping me!" He was hardly awake and we
stumbled around
like fools in the hospital carpark. "Almost there!"
"My head
hurts..." he whined.
I half-dragged and half-pushed him all the way into the cozy
reception area
of the
hospital. And I half-hyperventilated from my efforts. Geez. There's
the
staff nurse.
Now if I can only get her attention...
"Ma'am, can you help
me? I've got this amnesiac man with me, I think he
bumped his
head when he got hit by a
car last night," The sweet lady smiled at me and
said
she'd be right
there...
That was 4 hours ago.
I dozed off most of the time, but I did get a good
look at my savior.
He was quite a hunk. That irresistable unshaven look, that
well-chiselled
face. Tall,
dark and handsome, I guess. Everything that my mom had warned
me about.
This guy was gallant too; I felt a pang of guilt. He wouldn't be in this
mess if it
weren't for me.
I was stupid last night. Didn't see where I was going and assumed that
the
road was
empty; well it was until this Audi swerved round the corner and I
thought,
'There's the
end of my life!' That was when my knight in shining armour (well,
okay.
Black leather)
shot out on his Harley and pushed me out of the way, only to get
bumped off
the road
by the car and flung onto the road.
The heartless
son-of-a-bitch who had the Audi just went on.
I can't figure out why I didn't send him to
the hospital immediately. I
mean, he didn't
seem to have broken anything, the little cuts and
bruises weren't anything
I couldn't
handle. I was, after all, a former member of the Red
Cross cadets back in
elementary
school...What a joke. Alright, so it was a perverse side of
me; I was
lonely, and I liked the idea of a good-looking guy in my home. It was just
like the
movies.
"Okay, dear, we can move your friend now," The nurse finally
approached and
helped me get the sleeping man into a wheelchair.
"It's about
time," I muttered under my
breath.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The
smell of coffee filled the kitchen; Rogue poured herself a hearty mug
of the black stuff before
settling into a chair at the table. She rubbed
her eyes and sighed, resting her head on
table.
"Rogue?"
Her head snapped up immediately; her eyes
brimming with hope.
"Anything at all, Jean?"
The resident telepath
shook her head and took a seat at the table. "It's
like he...didn't
exist at all. He could
be using some sort of blocking device, but I doubt
it. And then he might
be..."
"How 'bout if he lost his memory? Ain't that possible too?"
Rogue
interuppted, eager to disperse the possibility that the Cajun might
be
dead.
"Yes, that's why we've put out a missing persons report; hopefully
we'll
hear from the
police soon," Jean put her hand on Rogue's gloved one and gave
it a
comforting squeeze. "He's alright,
Rogue."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To
be continued...