NECROPHILIA

Panther Nesmith

NC-17, tragedy

***

"Breathe in right away, nothing seems to fill this place"

Rogue caressed Remy's cold cheek. It was so wrong. She knew it. But this was hte only time she could touch him. A voice in the back of her head was saying what she was doing was disgusting, but another part of her, which may not have been her, was trying to break out and say something, so the voice in the back of her head kept getting interrupted.

She wanted so much for him to breath, to open his dead eyes and wrap his arms around her. It was no problem for her to move him, super strength and all, but he was so cold. . .so. . .dead. Why did the thought of him still make that place in her stomach heat up like she was on fire?

"I need this every time, take your lies get, off my case"

She was probably better off anyway. At least now all his lies and flattery were gone, and her love could finally be the perfect thing that romance writers invented. She could absoloutly trust him. She kissed his cold chaped lips, the rough texture making her lips feel smoother. She pulled her pajama pants off and straddled her dead love, feeling his hard cold body press into her naked flesh.

"Some day I will find, a love that flows through me like this"

Rogue moaned as she slid onto him. Rigor mortis had done most of the work for her. The freezer and creative placement of a popscicle stick had done the rest. He was frozen in such a way that Rogue could comfortably do what she wanted with him while he was still on the morge tray.

She cried a little as she moved her hips, making her breath catch in her throat. Even dead he could make her come so quickly. Why couldn't he have been alive then, running his hands over her body? Her mind wandered back to Antartica, before she'd left him for dead. . .He'd been cold then too. Not this cold. Not dead.

Rogue stifled the tears and moved her hips harder, determined not to be found sobbing on his body again. If the others found out. . . Good thing she had been wearing a skirt then.

They might have guessed what she was doing, but didn't want to stop her from seeing Remy if she wasn't. . .

[Ah can't even think what Ah'm doin'. Face it sugah, ya fuckin' a dead guy.]

[Chere?]

Rogue's body stopped, and she looked down at the still face of her lover.

[Now Ah'm hearin' things.]

[Doan look so good dead, do I?]

[Not as good as ya did alive.] Rogue admitted, wondering how she was getting such direct contact with his psyche. It was obviously her powers. What else could it be?

[Doan think about it chere.]

"This will fall away, this will fall away"

[Ah. . .Remy, God, please stay. Please don't leave me. Ah love ya so much. Please.] Rogue curled up against Remy's dead chest, crying into her hand, his frozen penis no longer so comfortable. Rogue shifted her hips.

[God I wish I could feel dat.] Remy 'said', trying to comfort Rogue.

"You're getting closer, to pushing me off of life's little edge"

[Remy, please, don't leave me again. Ah need ya so much.]

"Cause I'm a loser and sooner or later you know I'll be dead"

Rogue swore she could feel Remy's arms around her. But they were still at his side. The warmth refused to listen to reason, and spread over her body, enveloping her in her lover's feel. God, she could almost smell him over the formaldehyde.

"You're getting closer, you're holding the rope and I'm taking the fall"

[Y' have to give e up. I have t' go. Soon as y' stop t'inkin' 'bout me so much I go back wit' de rest.]

"No!" Rogue moaned, trying to stop him from telling her this horrible truth. That as soon as his body was shipped to his family plot she would be physically alone. And when he was gone, it'd be harder to see him, and is psyche would be like the rest, background noise.

[Ah can't loose ya in mah head too.]

[Dere's nothin' y' can do, chere. Y' can't t'ink 'bout me all de time. Y' gotta move on, let time heal dis, find anot'er man-]

[NO!]

"Cause I'm a loser, I'm a loser, yeah"

Remy tried to convince Rogue she could find another man to love her. That she could still love. But to no avail. She was pushing him away, trying to be left alone. He'd be damned if that happened. Literally.

"This is getting old"'

[Chere, y' can't mourn me forever. Look at y'! Not only is dis wrong, it's dangeruos. So many poisons in m' body now-]

[Poisons?]

[Chere, non. Doan. If y' kill yourself, dere's no hope f'r either of us. Please be de strong woman I love. Please.] Remy begged, horrified at the thought of er giving up so easily.

"I can't break these chains that I hold"

[Ah can't. Bein' strong hurt too much. Ah have ta feel this all the way, let it sink inta mah bones. . .It hurts so damn much!] ROgue sobbed into her head, filling Remy's senses with her pain and loss.

[Doan hurt y'self. I doan wan' t' see y' die. Please, God chere, doan.] Remy pleaded, almsot crying himself. Why did it have to hurt so much? Was this what she felt?

"My body's growing cold"

Rogue looked at Remy's face. WHy hadn't it occurred to her that he'd been embalmed? All those chemicals in is body, all at once. Not a chance she'd survive. Someting had to overcome her invulnerabililty. AND she wanted so badly to see her invulnerablilty rendered useless right then.

"there's nothin left of this mind or my soul"

Remy screamed at her, trying to break her out of the rut she was in, to convince her to live, for him, if that was the bait he had to use. Anything to avoid seeing her die. He knew he would never live it down. His hell be reliving this moment and his death over and over again.

"Addiction needs a pacifier

the buzz of this poison is taking me higher"

Rogue ignored the bit of Remy's psyche in her head. She brought her face next to his, parting his lips for one last kiss. She slid her tongue into his mouth, pulling deeply on the bits of cotton holding his cheek in shape.

[Ya taste as bad as ya smell.]

[Chere. . .] Remy said mournfully. [Non. Dis has t' be one of y' nightmares. Please God, doan let dis happen,] he prayed, wishing that Rogue would wake up then and realize she really didn't want to die.

"This will fall away, this will fall away"

Rogue felt her stomache convulse. It hurt so badly. But the pain helped her feel. Just two weeks ago she had been so happy. Things with Remy had finally settled down a bit. They both had been looking forward to a new aproach to controlling her powers. There had been so much hope then.

Suddenly here she was, having sex with his dead body, poisoning herself with one last kiss, much too late. And all se wanted in the world was for is lips to be warm, and his arms to be around her, his tounge searching her mouth. She wanted the cotton bals to be gone, and the taste to be his more natural mix of cigarettes and cinnamon.

[The pain will leave, the pain will leave, the pain will leave. . .God it hurts. Take it away, take it all away. Don't let me feel it, let it go away.]

"You're getting closer, to pushing me off of life's little edge"

Remy 'held' Rogue. She was writhing in real life. her body crashed to the floor as her body fought the poisons. Her mind was trying to cope. Remy holding her helped Rogue ease her mind away from her body, enabling her to ignore the fact she was dying. The cold tiles smacking against her leg were of course ignored.

Her body screamed at her brain in pain, trying to make it stop. She was making wild animal noises, and writhing in pain. It didn't stop when Logan burst into the room and tried to help her. Her systems were so far gone her powers wouldn't work anymore.

Rogue's body clung to Logan, trying to live.

"Cause I'm a loser and sooner or later you know I'll be dead"

But in her mind, Rogue was waitng anxiously for death.

She relized she was still naked from the waist down, and that Remy's body was thawing, and would stink by the time she was found. But it was surreal. She didn't really care how the others found her, and what did Remy's body matter anyway? She was in his arms, for all intents and purposes, and that was what she cared about.

"You're getting closer, you're holding the rope and I'm taking the fall"

[Chere, I have t' tell y'. I couldn' before, but now it doesn't matter. . . I was in limbo b'fore. I was a good person, but I'd done some bad things. I had t' atone, by savin' y' life. I was sent t' guard y' agianst y'self. Chere, y' get me? I'm goin' t' Hell f'r dis. But we'll be together, neh?]

[What? Hell? Ya n' makin' sense sugah.] Rogue slurred, her brain getting foggy. But there was still enough to realize Hell wasn't a good thing. The only thing that was still really clear was Remy was holding her, whispering to her in creole, and she loved him so much it hurt.

"Cause I'm a loser, I'm a loser!"

Rogue was almost gone, and was scared. Remy put tightened arms around her, holding her close as they both faded out. It was easier to die the second time. He rocked Rogue and whispered endearments to her, not sure if she understood or not, but sure she kew what he meant.

[I love you, chere. So much. I'm sorry. So sorry.]

[Love. . .y'. . .too.]