Proverbs - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Cat Smith
Last updated: 01/02/2007 02:01:11 AM

Chapter 2

Hank McCoy gazed over at the white-streaked brunette opposite him. He was trying to figure out whether the emerald-eyed young woman was bluffing. She grinned sweetly at him. He growled and laid his cards down on the table.

"Fold." Said the blue-furred doctor, quietly sulking.

"Hah!" Rogue laughed delightedly. "Don't you worry none Hank. At least y ain't the only loser," she said, gesturing to the others sat at the table-Jean Grey-Summers, Elisabeth Braddock, Warren Worthington III, and the man known only as Joseph. They were all sulking too.

"Have you been engaging in lessons of the fine and intricate art of poker with the ever-charming Mr. LeBeau, or our bumpkin buddy Samuel?" Asked Hank, curious as to where she'd learnt bluffing so well.

"Not hardly Hank. Ah don' need no lessons off no-one! Ah've always been this good, shugah," she lilted with a tinkling laugh. Her green eyes sparkled as she gazed at the other players. "'Nother game, anyone?"

"Not very likely," groused Joseph, and Rogue stuck her tongue out at him.

"I believe I'll turn in." Betsy said.

"Aw, come on, Betts, its only...what time is it?"

"Rogue, it's quarter past two!"

"Oh. Well in that case, Ah suppose..." A frown of worry furrowed her brow as she thought of something. "Did anyone hear Remy come in?"

"No." Said Jean, rubbing her green eyes. "But that doesn't mean anything. The man walks like a cat, and a quiet one at that."

"Ah guess. Ah'll go an' check on 'im. Night, all."

"Good night, Rogue." The group chorused and dived at the chips on the table before she could take them with her.

As soon as she stepped out the door, Rogue wondered whether she should go to his room. Well, it wasn't his. Remy's room had been in the part of the mansion that had been obliterated by Onslaught. He'd been sleeping on the couch until Bobby had moved out to be with his family, and now he was in Bobby's room. Anyway, she didn't want to seem desperate. After all, they were only supposed to be friends now. If that. They hadn't said more than a few words to each other since she'd got back from Carolina. She got the feeling she'd really hurt him, but she quenched it. It wasn't as if he hadn't hurt her, too. She decided to go check on him. She could always say she wanted something from his room. She walked up to the mahogany door. She rapped on it.

"Remy?" she called. No answer. She reached for the door knob. She remembered that Remy slept nude, but instead of putting her off, an evil grin formed on her face as she opened the door. And it fell from her face when she realised he wasn't there.

Where the Hell is he at this time? Probably with some prostitute, she thought, her face like thunder. Bastard!

She stormed along the corridor to her own bedroom and dreamt of ways to hurt Remy LeBeau.

Rogue opened her eyes and stared blearily at the alarm clock.

Can't be eight already. It's not, she realised. She hadn't changed the clock to account for daylight savings time. She growled, as did her stomach.

Ah'm hungry. She swung her legs over the bed and grabbed her silky dressing gown from the back of the wooden chair that faced the desk with a picture of Remy and herself on it. She glared at the smiling Cajun, and put the frame face down on the table.

Ya sure fooled us, didn't ya shugah. She frowned. Not quite sure what ya fooled us 'bout, but...

As she passed the front door, someone knocked loudly on it, and she nearly jumped through the ceiling.

Who the Hell can that be at this time a' day? She opened the door. A middle-aged man with grey hair and eyes stood in front of her dressed in a trenchcoat.

He held a police badge in his hand. Rogue wondered what on earth he wanted.

"My name's Detective Frasier, ma'am. I'm sorry to intrude so early in the day, but I'd like to ask you a few questions, starting with, do you know a Mr. Remy LeBeau?"

What's he done this time? Thought Rogue, thinking of his past as a thief.

"Ah most certainly do, suh. Why don't ya come in?" She opened the door wider. The detective thanked her and stepped in.

He was tall, about 6'2", and he had an authoritative aura about him that made her feel slightly intimidated. Opening another door, Rogue led him to the living room, and motioned for him to sit down. On the comfy seat, of course. If Remy was in trouble, however much she hated him at the moment, she still loved him deep down and didn't want to see him locked up in prison.

Offering the policeman the comfy seat may not help much, but you never know.

"This morning, at about 3am, some of my men on patrol found the wallet of a Mr. Remy LeBeau. Is this the man you know?" The detective asked, as he handed her a wallet, wrapped in an evidence bag, that looked frighteningly like the one she'd bought him for Christmas last year.

She glanced up at the detective and swallowed, ignoring the uneasiness that she felt inside her. R.L. was embroidered in the corner in gold. This was her Remy's, she was almost sure. But what frightened her was that it was soaked with blood. Shaking hands opened the wallet, and she gazed at the photo of a handsome young man with auburn hair and red-on-black eyes that was affixed to an Xavier Institute ID card.

"Oh mah God," she said, shaking violently, dropping the wallet.

"Is this the man you know?" Asked Frasier, aware of her state, but he had to ask anyway. Wordlessly, she nodded, her heart clenching.

"I'm sorry to tell you this," The words just horrified her more, even though he did sound truly sorry, " but we found this wallet in Brooklyn, in a large pool of AB negative blood, which his ID card says is his type. There was too much blood to have been lost without him dying. We could do a DNA scan if you have something we could get some DNA off?"

"Mah friend who lives here's a scientist. Ah'll wake him an' ask him to do it."

Her voice sounded lifeless, hollow, even to her. She woke Hank, and told him.

"Oh my stars and garters..." Hank liked Remy, and he was shocked by this news. He glanced over at Rogue. "Are you alright?" He asked worriedly.

"Ah honestly don't know what to feel Hank. Ah'm not gonna let mahself feel anythin' until ah'm sure he's...until ah'm sure it's his blood."

"Very well, Rogue. If you'll give me a moment to get dressed..." Rogue went out the door. Hank put on more than his usual labcoat and shorts, as he got the distinct and frightening feeling that Rogue was going to need his embrace. From the dresser Beast picked up an image inducer which would hide his bestial form from the police man.

Hank went downstairs with a silent Rogue and introduced himself to detective Frasier. They went down to his underground lab. Rogue didn't notice anything Hank did. She was to busy praying for the man she loved.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hank asked the policeman how much blood they'd found. The detective told Hank about five and a half pints.

"Oh." Was all Hank said.

"The tests were positive?" Asked Fraisier.

Hank nodded.

"I'm truly sorry. We'll look for the body, and more importantly, the murderer."

"Thank you, sir. I'll escort you to the door." Hank looked down at Rogue. She looked absolutely terrified. Beast got the detective out of the house as quickly as he could, and went back down into the lab for Rogue.

When he got down to the lab, Rogue looked lost. She was rocking back and forth, and was holding her knees to her chest. Hank put a large hand on her slim shoulder.

"He's dead." She said, not so much a question as a statement. Hank nodded.

Rogue started to cry. Hank took her in his arms, and held her as she wept.

After about an hour, he realised she must have blacked out from shock and exhaustion. He took her in his arms and carried her upstairs from the underground lab. Some of the X-Men were in the living room watching 'Friends'. When Hank came in, they stopped laughing and they looked over at him.

"What is wrong with Rogue?" Asked Storm.

Blunt and to the point, Hank said; "Remy's dead."

The snow-haired, cocoa-skinned woman named Storm gazed over at him, confusion in her blue cats-eyes.

"What... what did you say, Henry?" She asked quietly, hoping he hadn't said what she knew he had. The broad-shouldered scientist set Rogue down on the couch. He was not surprised about Storm's reaction. He repeated what he had just said, and he noticed it begin to rain. He gazed over at Bishop, who was the only other inhabitant of the room. The big, black man had a disconnected look and Hank wondered why.

Bishop and Gambit had never been particularly close, and he wouldn't of thought Bishop would take the news very badly. Then again, Hank wouldn't have thought he'd have felt this way either. He felt greatly saddened. Remy LeBeau had been one of the happiest, liveliest people he knew, full of joie de vivre. He knew Remy had been quite depressed recently, but he didn't think he was so upset that he'd let his guard down this much. Hank felt a pang of melancholy that the vital young man had been killed.

"Hank, are you sure?" Asked Storm, fiercely controlling her emotions.

He considered it. "Well, no..." A ray of sunshine broke through the grey clouds outside. "But," it dimmed. "The gendarmes discovered a pool of blood that I have clarified to be Remy's in Brooklyn. It was 5 and a half litres, too much for anybody to lose and be able to remain alive." The ray of sunlight vanished and was replaced by the tears of a goddess. "I am so sorry, Ororo."

"I will not give up hope until I see his body."

"Ororo..."

"No, Henry. I am certain he would do the same for me if the situation were reversed. I cannot -I will not- accept it until I know that he is gone." Hank, once again admired Storm's spirit and stubbornness in the face of adversity.

"I agree with Ororo." Bishop had remained silent throughout the conversation, and now he spoke up. Hank looked at him. He stared him straight in the eye with a pride and power that Hank was sure he recognised from somewhere else.

"Very well. I will aid you in your virtuous quest, but, I forewarn you not to be overly anguished if our pursuit delivers us fruitless ends."

"Of course, Henry. And thank you." Storm's eyes gazed at him with damp eyes.