don't own the X-Men, Rogue,
or Gambit. They belong to Marvel. "Somebody Else's Song" belongs to
the band Lifehouse.
I ain't makin any money, so
back off!...Please don't sue me! :(
Somebody Else's Song
By: Alyx
Can't change this feeling,
I'm way out of touch.
Can't change this meaning,
It means too much.
Never been this lonely,
Never felt so good.
Can't be the only one
misunderstood.
I remind myself of somebody
else.
Feeling like I’m chasing,
Like I’m facing myself
alone.
I've got somebody else’s
thoughts in my head,
I want some of my own.
I want some of my own.
Can you see me up here?
Would you bring me back
down?
Cause I've been living to
see my fears
As they fall to the ground.
I remind myself of somebody
else.
Feeling like I’m chasing,
Like I’m facing myself
alone.
I've got somebody else’s
thoughts in my head,
I want some of my own.
I want some of my own.
Am I hiding behind my
doubts?
Are they hiding behind me?
Closer to finding out, but
It doesn't mean anything.
I remind myself of somebody
else now
-Lifehouse
Their last mission had been
a success. Magneto had been defeated again and humanity, for a time, was safe.
The mentor and leader of the X-Men, Charles Xavier noticed how drained and
weary his team seemed lately. It was obvious to him that his students needed a
break. He had to practically order his team to leave the X-mansion for a few
days. Even after ordering them away, Jean, Ororo and Scott decided to stay
behind with the Professor “in case something happened”. It saddened Xavier that
his students were so engrossed in what atrocity could occur next that they
out-right refused to take a few days off to rest themselves. Well, he thought
smiling, I’ll just have to keep those three away from the Danger Room.
The X-Men who consented to
go retired to a piece of land Charles owned in a small range of mountains in
North Carolina. The days there were warm and the nights were cool and the X-Men
stayed in a large cabin about halfway up one of the mountains. There was a
stream that led to a small pond not too far from their cabin and a huge field,
perfect for picnicking, at the base. It was like a paradise and once they
arrived they couldn’t have been happier to take this break.
“Oh my,” the pretty young
Southerner known only as Rogue gasped as she alighted from the X-Men’s jet, the
Blackbird, “Absolutely beautiful!”
“Sho is, Rogue,” Remy
LeBeau said, walking down the ramp to stand behind her, “And I ain’t talkin’
‘bout de land.” He ran two fingers through her thick auburn hair.
“Knock it off LeBeau,”
Rogue smiled at him, playfully brushing his hand away and launching herself
into the air out of his reach.
Remy smiled up at her as
their teammates and friends filed out of the plane. Logan came first, pulling a
cigar out of his shirt pocket and lighting it up. He had been craving it since
before they left the mansion.
“Logan!” Remy smiled, “I
t’ink you have de right idea, mon ami,” he lit up a cigarette. Logan grinned at
the Cajun and started toward the cabin with several suitcases in tow.
“Oh, it’s beautiful Hank!”
the news anchor, Trish Tilby turned excitedly to her lover Henry McCoy, “I’m so
glad we decided to come!”
“Me too, Trish,” Hank
struggled with the many odd-shaped suitcases that his girlfriend insisted on
bringing along, “Trish, was it really essential to bring all these? We’re only
going to be here for three or four days.”
Trish smiled, “Come on,
Hank. I’m a little tired,” she winked at him, “Let’s go find our bedroom.”
“Opal! Come on, baby. I
said I was sorry!” Remy and Rogue turned to watch as a raven-haired beauty
stomped from the jet with Bobby Drake following and apologizing the entire way.
“Don’t you ever do anything
like that again, Robert!” Opal stopped suddenly and turned on him, “I’m going
to find our room. I’m going to go inside and take a nap and hope this headache
you’ve given me has gone away by dinner.”
Remy whistled as Opal walked
away, “Damn homme, what did you do?”
Bobby smiled sheepishly,
“Well…”
“Nevah mind, Sugah. The
less we know about this one, the better.”
Bobby carried his and
Opal’s suitcases to the cabin, mumbling all the way.
Warren, Kurt and Betsy came
out next, carrying their luggage and talking among themselves. Kurt noticed
Rogue and Gambit standing off to the side.
“Are you two going to
unpack or would you like me to do it for you?” he asked teasingly, his thick
German accent.
“Naw, we’ll be inside in a
sec, ‘Crawler.” Rogue replied, smiling at her foster brother, “We were just
takin’ in the view.”
Kurt smiled and followed
Warren and Elizabeth up to the cabin.
Rogue inhaled deeply. It
had been too long since she had been out like this, away from civilization. She
allowed the luxurious feeling of being one with nature sweep through her.
Gambit watched her intently, marveling at the way her wavy white on auburn hair
blew around her in the wind, the brightness of her green eyes, the gentle
curves of her hips, breasts, thighs, and butt.
Damn, dat femme has an
incredible ass, he thought with a smile.
She took his breath away on
a regular basis. Not just with her beauty, but with her laughter, her
innocence, her spirit, the way she believed he was a good man, the fact that
she thought there was still some decency left in the world and the way she
silently vowed to lay down her life to protect it. Quite simply, she amazed
him.
“Hey, Chere,” he called up to her, bringing her out of
her trance, “What say you and me fly into town for some…supplies.”
Rogue smiled, “Remy, we
brought everything with us we could possibly need. Food, clothes, bottled
water, first aid kits, fishin’ gear, tents, wine, beer, cigars, cigarettes.
What else do the X-Men need to survive?”
“How ‘bout cards, petite?”
“Cards? You mean to tell me that you, Remy LeBeau,
don’t have a single playin’ card on your person?”
“Well, Chere, if you don’ believe me, you’re welcome to
search my person,” he smiled mischievously.
“Remy!”
“Come on, Chere. Let’s me and you sneak off for a
little while---”
“Hey, Rogue!” Wolverine yelled from the massive front
porch of the cabin.
“Yea?” she answered,
sticking her tongue out at Remy.
“Would you mind flyin’ into
town ta pick me up some more cigars, darlin’?”
“Wolvie! You brought three
boxes with you!”
“Yea, well that was before
Drake decided to ice them. They thawed on the way here and now they’re soakin’
wet.”
“So let ‘em dry out!”
“Come on, Rogue. We’re out
here in the middle of nowhere and I can actually smoke to my little heart’s
content…”
“Fine! I’ll go. But you
come get my stuff and put it in my room. And ask everyone else if they need
anything, ‘cause I’m only makin’ this flight once!”
“I still need cards, Rogue.
I’ll go with.”
“Fine.”
“Everyone else is good,
darlin’. Just the cigars outta do it. You got money?”
“Yea. Now come get mah
stuff. Me and Remy’ll be back in a little while.”
She set Remy down and landed next to him just outside
the small town.
“Nice town,” Remy commented as they walked down what
they guessed was the main street. He placed a pair of black-mirrored sunglasses
over his red on black eyes.
“It’s a’ight,” Rogue commented dryly. She didn’t like
this town at all. It was too similar to the town she had once called home. The
town where she was abused and neglected, where she sentenced her best friend to
his eventual death with a kiss, and where she had been chased away by people
who had known her all her life. She felt cold and shuddered at the memories.
“You okay, belle?” Remy asked, noticing the shift in
her emotions. When they arrived in North Carolina she was in such high spirits,
now she seemed so distant and sad.
She forced herself to
smile, “Yea, hon. Ah’m just fine.”
He didn’t believe her for a
second.
“ ’Kay,” he replied, unconvinced.
“There’s a gas station,”
she pointed up ahead, “They’ll probably have cards and cigars. You men and your
habits.”
He smiled and was about to
make a snide comment when he noticed a small diner off to the side of the gas
station. The sign read: “Roy’s Soul Food,” and clearly under that in smaller
letters: ‘best burgers in the South and the best Cajun cookin’ this side of the
bayous.’
“Hey Chere, you hungry?”
Rogue caught sight of the
diner and laughed, “You are such a sucker Remy. Just ‘cause the sign says it’s
good Cajun food, don’t necessarily mean it is,” although now that they were
close enough to smell the grill, her stomach began to growl ferociously.
“Come on. I t’ink I smell hamburgers…”
“We’re s’possed ta grill out tonight at the cabin.”
“But it’s only noon, now. And I guarantee Henry ain’t
gonna want to leave dat room of his anytime soon to fire up de grill. It’s
either eat here, or wait ‘til we done shoppin’ and den go back to de cabin for
bologna sandwiches. Den we’re still gonna have to wait ‘til later tonight for
real food at the cookout.”
After a few moments of
contemplation, Rogue replied. “Okay, you talked me into it. But you’re buyin’.”
“What kin Ah do fer ya’ll taday?” the young waitress
asked the two mutants.
“Well, Chere,” Remy said, smiling at her flirtatiously,
“I t’ink I’ll have de crawfish wit’ de sweet potato souffle and a nice t’ick
piece of cornbread. And my lady here…what would you like, Rogue?”
“Uh, the burger an’ fries look good. Make that a cheese
burger.”
“Alright. Ah’ll git right on that. What would ya’ll
like ta drink? Roy is famous for his sweet tea and his coffee.”
“Ah, well den, we’ll have two sweet teas, petit.”
“Comin’ right up.” The young blonde smiled coyly at
Remy and walked away to place their orders and get their drinks.
“You are shameless, Remy!” Rogue shook her head at him.
“What?”
“Oh, don’t act all innocent with me, LeBeau. That girl
cain’t be older’n fifteen and you’re makin’ eyes at her like she’s a 25 year
old woman.”
“A little harmless flirtin’ never hurt no one, Rogue.
You should learn ta live a little. Let your hair down once in a while. ‘Sides,
jealousy ain’t very attractive on you, Chere.”
“Uh, newsflash Sugah. No touching, no flirting,” she
referred to her mutant “gift.” The deadly, uncontrollable absorption powers
that were triggered by any skin-to-skin contact, “ And Ah ain’t jealous.”
“O’ course you ain’t. Because you know as well as I do
dat flirtin’ never hurt nobody. Come on, Rogue, loosen up.”
“Wish Ah could, Rem.”
“Give me one
good reason why you can’t.”
She let out an exasperated
breath, “Gambit, mah entire life is about control. Mah powers, the ghosts in
mah head…Ah have to be in control all the time. Ah cain’t slip up, or Ah risk
losing mahself. You, of all people Remy, know how bad that scares me,” she
finished quietly.
Remy reached across the table to take her gloved hand
in his bare one in a gesture of compassion. He felt bad. He was only trying to
get her to open up. She had two very useful assets: youth and beauty. All she
needed was a little confidence in herself, or a little more trust in her
abilities…
He looked around the
restaurant. It was slightly dusty in places, but he’d eaten in worse
environments. The smells and noises from the kitchen nearly overwhelmed his
senses if he inhaled too deeply of listened too closely. There was a jukebox in
one corner that looked like it had played it’s last song sometime in the 1970’s
and a pool table in another corner where three guys were betting with what
appeared to be their weekly paychecks. There were several other patrons sitting
here and there in the small diner. They inhabitants were mostly men, some
women…
When we walked in ev’ry man
in de place turned to stare at her. Hell, mosta dem still lookin’. Then an idea
occurred to him.
“Hey, Rogue. I tell you what…I feel like a little bet.
What do you say?”
“Ah ain’t in no mood fer that, Swamp Boy,” she pulled
her hand away gently.
“Well, dat’s alright, I guess. If you don’ t’ink you
got a shot at winnin’…”
“Ah didn’t say that.”
“Den at least hear me out?”
He smiled charmingly at her.
“Oh, alright! What do ya
wanna bet on?”
“You.”
“Remy---”
“Get one o’ dem boys to buy
you lunch.”
“Gambit,” her tone was
suddenly tighter and more forced.
“Just go over and flirt
wit’ dem. Shoot some pool. At de very least, get one of ‘em ta buy you a drink.
It’ll be fun, Chere.”
Rogue thought it over for a
moment, “What do Ah get when Ah win?”
“I buy you dinner
ev’rynight for de next month. Any restaurants you want.”
“And if you win…?”
“I get de pleasure of
seein’ you smile and havin’ a little fun. Not to mention I get ta watch dose
boys fall all over demselves ta impress you.”
She eyed him suspiciously,
“That’s it? No catch?”
“None at all.”
She was quiet for another
moment, than nodded, “Okay. Ah’ll do it, if it’ll make you happy.”
“As a lark, Chere.”
“My shot,” Jess Cambridge
motioned for his cronies to step aside as he prepared to take his turn on the
pool table. He leaned over and was about to take his shot when a sugary
feminine voice broke his concentration.
“Ya’ll boys mind if Ah join
you…or is this a private game?” she pouted slightly.
Damn, was the only coherent
thought in Jess’ head, “Uh, sure honey. You can play. Ya got any money…or you
gonna pay up with somethin’ else?”
All who were in hearing distance, including Remy
LeBeau, picked up the sexual connotation behind his words. Rogue looked down
shyly and smiled, “Well, Ah don’t have any money…”
Jess looked her up and down. She was a looker, all
right. She wore a purple tank top with an extraordinarily low neckline that
showed an excessive amount of cleavage and a pair of cut-off jean shorts. He
noticed two odd things about her though: She had an large white stripe down the
center of her hair which he took to be a dye job gone bad; and she was wearing
a pair of gloves despite the spring-time warmth.
“Well that’s alright honey. We’ll talk about what you
owe us when we win. How ‘bout that?” One of the other men suggested.
“Well, ya’ll sure are
mighty confident.” She grinned strolling closer to the three men. Remy watched,
amused. Amateurs, he thought, Dat is not how you talk to a woman you so
obviously want to score wit’.
The boys started a new game
and Rogue kept a safe distance from them, although she openly flirted the
entire time.
Remy ate his surprisingly
delicious food, and watched as Rogue beat the men three times at their own
game. As she sunk the last ball into the corner pocket she turned to smile at
the three very unhappy men, “Guess Ah shoulda warned ya’ll that Ah was taught
how ta shoot pool by a professional.”
“Yea, guess you shoulda,”
Jess answered snidely as Rogue took a sip from the beer he had bought her at
the end of game one.
You better be forkin’ up
some cash, Cajun, Rogue thought with a smile, ‘cause Ah have the distinct
feeling that Ah’m gonna be real hungry for the next month or so.
“Well boys, it’s been fun,
but mah food’s been sittin’ over there gettin’ cold fer ‘bout half an hour now
so if ya’ll excuse me…”
“Not so fast,” Jess said
walking closer to her. He stood between her and the table where Remy sat.
Gambit watched him every step of the way, ready to tear his head off if he
tried anything.
“You can’t just come over
here and yank ours chains with all that flirtin’ and prancin’ around you was
doin’ and then not put out. That ain’t the way it works.”
Rogue began to panic. Truth
be told, she could kill this man with her super strength in a split second, but
she didn’t want to hurt him. So she stood perfectly still, and watched him as
he stepped closer and closer to her, excruciatingly aware of how much of her
deadly skin was showing.
“You gonna at least let me
cop a feel, baby?” he stepped closer to her, “Or maybe I could get me a little
kiss or two…”
Oh god. He can’t touch mah
skin! Ah don’t need another voice in mah head, ‘specially one like his. What
was Ah thinkin’, teasin’ them like that? Ah shoulda known they wouldn’t let it
go that easily.
Before she knew what was
happening his hand shot out to grab her by the arm only to be stopped by the
firm grasp of Remy LeBeau.
“I t’ink de lady’s business
wit’ you is t’rough, mon ami. Why don’ you an’ ya boys go back to ya game now
before someone gets hurt.”
“You mean like you?”
Remy laughed, “Yea, ami.
Whatever you say. Look, me an’ my lady are leavin’ now and we won’t be back ta
bother you again so---“
“She ain’t goin’ nowhere,” one of the other men said
from behind Gambit, “Not ‘till she pays off her debts.”
“Pardon?” Remy laughed again, letting go of Jess’ arm,
“but I recall de lady utterly pounding ya’ll’s asses in de ground. She don’ owe
ya nothin’.”
“Listen here, ya Coonass---”
“Ain’t no need for name-callin’ boys,” Rogue stepped
up. She knew Remy hated the derogatory term used in reference to Cajuns.
“You shut the hell up, ya fuckin’ slut,” Jess turned to
her.
“Back off,” Remy stepped between them.
“Come on, Remy,” Rogue placed a hand on his shoulder,
“Let’s get outta here.”
Without any warning at all, Jess took a swing at Remy.
Gambit was too fast for him. He caught the punch and in one swift movement
twisted the man’s arm behind him forcing him into immobility.
“Now I want ya ta listen and listen good, boy,” Remy
ground out in Jess’ ear, “We’re leavin’ now. So why don’t ya’ll save a little
face and back off?”
“Go ta hell,” Jess began to struggle in the stronger
man’s grasp as his buddies advanced on Rogue. Instinctively, she backed up.
What am Ah gonna do? Ah cain’t fight ‘em. Ah’ll end up
hurtin’ em. But if Ah don’t hold ‘em back some kinda way, their gonna touch my
skin and then we’ll both get hurt.
As the men got closer, Rogue realized she had no
choice. Just before one of them went to grab at her, she launched herself into
the air.
“What tha fuck?!”
“She’s a mutie!”
“Aw, hell,” Gambit muttered, letting the struggling man
go to look at Rogue who floated safely near the ceiling. “Dis ain’t gonna end
well at all.”
As soon as he regained his footing, Jess took another
swing at Remy. Gambit easily deflected his blows, trying to stay calm and ease
himself toward the door. The last thing he and Rogue needed was to hurt one of
these guys in front of all these witnesses, even if it was in self-defense.
Rogue watched the scene from above. Several people had
fled the diner as soon as she had launched herself into the air. The remaining
people were either too scared to move, or throwing things at her.
Gambit dodged another hit, causing his shades to go
sliding across the floor. He looked up and Jess backed away.
“Fuck! This one’s a mutie, too! Look at his eyes!”
We have ta get outta here,
Rogue thought frantically again for the millionth time.
My only option is to swoop
down, grab Gambit and high-tail it outta here.
As a napkin dispenser flew
by her head, Rogue made her dive toward Remy. As bad luck would have it, as she
evened off with the floor, she was hit in the face by a flying chair.
She was not unconscious, but
still slightly dizzy from the chair shattering on her head. Gambit, heard her
cry out when the chair struck her. Without turning from his face off with Jess,
he yelled, “Ya alright, petite?”
“Yea,” he heard her answer,
and then he heard her scream in horror.
Hitting Jess across the
face hard enough to knock him out, Gambit turned to see the other two pool
players. Each of them had a hand on Rogue’s bare arm.