Chapter 13 – A Walk Down Memory Lane With You

There's an old adage that goes, the greater the risk, the greater the reward. Remy LeBeau knows this full well. He's made a name for himself by playing the long odds and risking it all. He has played the greatest gamble of his life when he risked his heart in loving Rogue. In the stillness of a quiet, early morning, Remy takes a walk down memory lane and contemplates the past.

Have the all the risks been worth the reward?


Author's Note:

Thanks to everyone who has read, commented, kudos-ed/liked, and bookmarked this story along the way. Your encouragement has meant so much to me. Everyone I've met in the Romy fandom has been absolutely wonderful. Thanks for welcoming me.

As it comes to a close, I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Thanks for reading! ~rose


7 – Memories

Another few years have passed...

Careful to avoid skin contact, gentle fingers brushed sleep-mussed hair away from his face in a featherlight caress and tucked the wayward strands behind his ear. Uncertain if he was dreaming or not (and knowing it didn't matter either way since his fondest dreams of a thief had become reality long ago), Remy leaned in towards the source of the caress in search for more. Snuggling against her pajama clad side, the warm, homey scents of her shampoo and lotion filled his senses. (Not a dream, his sleep muddled brain decided.) Her sweet chuckle filled his ears and he mumbled sweet nothings in return. His eyelids were heavy, the series of late night jobs were taking their toll. He fought the need to catch up on sleep as exhaustion mixed with the desire to make good on those murmured promises.

The pressure on the bed shifted as Rogue pushed herself off the bed with a slight oomph. A soft whine escaped from the back of his throat as she left him behind. The bed was so much colder and lonely without her presence at his side.

"Sush now, sugah. Sleep," Rogue whispered. Her honeyed drawl was a sweet soporific, which played over him like a lullaby. "No need to get up. Ah'm fine and ya need your rest..."

If she said anything else he missed it as he slipped back into the safe and contented doze of one who was well loved.

Waking without a start in the dark hours when too late and too early blended into an amorphous expanse of time which was only differentiated by which side of sleep you were on, Remy stirred in bed with the sense that something was amiss. Not wrong, just incomplete. He was in their bed, in their room, in their New Orleans home. Nothing was awry about any of that. No, all of it was exactly as it should be. Except...

Rolling over, he inhaled the lingering scent of magnolias and honey and decided the only thing wrong with the scene was the fact his Rogue wasn't in his arms. Reaching across the bed to cuddle closer to his wife and enjoy a few more moments together before sunrise, he found the covers mussed and the sheets still warm—but no Rogue.

Drowsily, he cracked open an eye and discovered that when he'd fallen back asleep at his wife's say-so, he'd snuggled under the sheets and buried his face in her pillow. A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled those gentle caresses in the moments of half-consciousness.

In the way of a truly sound sleep, Remy didn't know if he'd been asleep for fifteen minutes or a couple of hours. With thoughts of Rogue filling his mind and unable to fall back asleep, he squinted at the bedside clock. 4:33 a.m. It was early, but not too early, he supposed. Maybe he'd go out for a run? Too many years of early morning training sessions ruined his ability to sleep in to a decent hour. Well, that and the children's habit of early rising. At this hour, he might be able to convince Rogue that he hadn't solely waken because he missed her presence in their bed. She'd been having trouble sleeping lately, and had adopted the habit of pacing the lower story of their home in an attempt to ease her restlessness when she woke in the middle of the night. Despite his insistence that he didn't mind waking with her and keeping her company, Rogue was determined he stay in bed and rest. He'd learned quickly after the first few times at joining her solitary rambles, that his presence only added to her stress as she blamed herself for waking him.

So, he stayed in bed, listening to the night chorus drifted on the heavy southern air and through his open window. Cricket song filled the night and was joined by the unceasing hum of cicadas. The croak of the frogs whom lived in the small pond echoed in the balmy Louisiana night. Occasionally, the deep hooting call of an owl joined the chorus. Trying to still his thoughts and once more find the shores of dreamland, Remy matched his breathing to the rhythm of the whir and squeak of the fans.

It wasn't working.

Fully awake, Remy slipped out of bed and stole across the room. Standing at the window with the sheer curtains blowing dramatically around him, he was reminded of another night and another window long ago and not so far away.

From this window, he could almost, but not quite make out the house across the Garden District he had bought when he had still entertained dreams of a normal life with Bella Donna. It would only ever be a house to him and not the home he had dreamed it could be. Because of their disastrous wedding which ended in death and banishment, he never carried Belle over the threshold on their wedding night. Instead he brought her there as she laid on death's door while he shattered the ancient traditions and pacts of the New Orleans Thieves and Assassins Guilds. He had caused all that turmoil and destruction in the hopes of giving Belle another chance at life.

Rogue had been there too. He couldn't imagine how hard it must have been for her to watch him tear down the foundations of the family he loved for the slight possibility of saving his ex-wife. Since it involved his family and it was about the Guilds, he played his cards closer to his chest even more so than he usually did. His relationship with Rogue had been so new, so fragile, so filled with the unknown. He could have destroyed it all right then and there. Still, Rogue had followed him, had offered her help, even though she hadn't known, if, in the end, he would go back to Belle or stay with her. Somehow, even back then she had understood, that if there was even a sliver of hope at saving Belle, then he must attempt the impossible. He had been the cause of too many deaths, of too much pain. If he could save even one life, then he had no choice but to try. Remy smiled as he reflected on the memory. She had been a good friend to him—laying her heart on the line for the sake of his. He cherished Rogue's friendship as much as he did her love.

How things had changed since then. In the master bedroom of that other house, he had stood at the window with a cigarette in hand. He had told Rogue he had given up on the possibility of having a family of his own and settling down. He had lied to her. He had lied to himself. He'd gotten so good at lying to himself that he had begun to believe his own lies. But, loving Rogue had shattered that lie and so many others. Her bright shining presence in his life had broken the lies to a million pieces until he couldn't deny the truth. He still wanted that life. Wife and children. Home and family. And, there was only one person he wanted to share that dream with—his Rogue.

Now, the dream was his. No, theirs. The journey had been hard. There were times he thought they wouldn't make it. That the dream would shrivel up and die—like the fruit from an untended tree. Instead, their love had blossomed into something more wondrous, something sublime. The reality of life with Rogue was more amazing than he could ever hope or imagine.

Restless, Remy left his windowside vigil and went in search of the love of his life. Slipping silently from the room, Remy moved like a wraith, avoiding every creaking floorboard and every groaning step. He loved this grand, old house and all it represented. It wasn't that he loved their New York home any less—both were the places where they raised their children, where they lived and loved and, yes, even where they still fought. Both homes were filled with precious memories. The X-Men and the Thieves were both family, so they split their time between New York and New Orleans. They followed the tides of where they were needed the most. And, in this season, they were needed here. In the end, it did not matter where they lived. Anywhere was home as long as he was with Rogue.

Still, he must admit, their Garden District home had a special place in his heart. This was the home Rogue had purchased with her inheritance from Irene after they had lost their powers. He'd been such a fool back then. Adrift from the loss of his powers and resenting the fact Rogue had pulled him back from the brink of death—he had not seen what should have been obvious. When considering settling down, his Mississippi river rat had chosen a home in his native New Orleans. She could have gone anywhere, but she had chosen here.

Like he always did when he thought back on those days, he traced the faint and faded scar tissue that ran over his heart. Rogue—the love of his life and the heart of his heart—had refused to let him die. Though he had resented her intervention in the immediate aftermath, he could never thank Rogue enough for pursuing him to the gates of death itself and dragging him back to the land of the living. If she had let him go, he would have missed out on so much. Before marrying Rogue, before starting a family with her, he didn't have an inkling of what his life was missing. And, he wouldn't trade any of what they had now for the world.

Yes, since then there had been excruciatingly hard times. There had been heartbreak so potent he felt as though he might shatter. There were times he nearly lost all hope that he and Rogue could ever be more than an almost. Yet, there were also joys which tenfold exceeded the pain. Love which shone through the darkest days and the vanquished the greatest doubts and fears. Being with Rogue gave him the strength to continue striving to be a better man.

As he reflected on the way his life had changed over the years, Remy paused at the rooms of their youngest children and checked on them as they slept. His throat constricted as he watched them rest in the safe, peaceful slumber he never knew as a child. Their childhoods were already so different than his and Rogue's had been. From the moment they were born, their children knew they were loved and wanted and cherished. He prayed they would never know the desperation and loneliness which had marked his earliest years. That they would never know the gnaw of hunger in the pit of their stomachs as they wondered where their next meal was coming from—or, if there would even be a next meal. Of the willingness to do anything to survive and hating yourself for giving into that very same anything. His children would never experience the fear and isolation of living on the streets. Of only being able to trust yourself and the subsequent despair every time your body or cunning failed you when you needed it the most. They would never know the constant heartbreak and shame of abandonment because of their mutations. Though their children were born with visible mutations, they would not know the daily rejection found in strangers' eyes as they stared without pity at the child with demon eyes. He swore on all that was holy, they would never know what it meant to be unwanted, unnamed, or unloved.

A soft thmp and half a creak drew Remy away from his reverie. Moving to the third door in the hallway, he expanded the range of his kinesthetic sense and sensed as their adopted daughter moved about her room. Coming home, not going out, he determined. Older than her siblings by over a decade, Lily had begun her official training as a thief. She was already proving to be an excellent thief. In time, he suspected she would be one of the best. Although, at the moment, she still had work to do.

Certainly, if he hadn't been up and roaming the halls, he would never have heard the rustle of curtains or the whisper of feet along the hardwood floor. She had caught herself before she placed her full weight on the creaking floorboard below her window and had managed to ease off it with only the slightest of groans. She was a bit sloppier as she sat along the edge of her bed, causing the springs to moan in protest. Though if he hadn't known she was coming home, the sound might have been mistaken for a restless shift in positions while sleeping. Only the soft thump of of shoes hitting the floor gave away what she was truly doing.

It wouldn't be long before she'd be preparing for her Tilling. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be ready. The bigger question, was he? Etienne's failed Tilling hung heavy on Remy's conscience. Despite his best efforts, he had failed his cousin. He couldn't bear the thought of failing his daughter in the same way. As her father, he couldn't be present at her Tilling. The best he could do was make certain she was prepared for any unexpected complication which might arise.

More than anything, he wanted to stand between her and danger, to protect her from any unforeseen obstacles. But, he couldn't. All he could do was trust that she had had taken to heart everything they had taught her and trust that she was capable of putting those lessons to use. It was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

Had Jean Luc felt the same trepidation when Henri and I participated in this rite of passage?

Before they returned to New York, he ought to talk to his père about this. Maybe the older thief had some advice which would help Remy conquer his fears. He wasn't ready for his little girl to grow up quite yet. It seemed like only yesterday they had brought her into their home and family. When in actuality, it was only yesterday that Lily had excitedly talked about attending LSU once she graduated from high school. And that day was approaching all too soon. No matter how much he wished to stop time, it kept moving forward. In another year and a half, she'd be off to college. Resisting the urge to sigh and give away his presence, Remy continued down the hall and away from the bedrooms as he resumed the search for his wife.

It didn't take long to find Rogue. She had paused her nocturnal rambles in the family room, where she appeared to be as lost in thought as he had been moments earlier. Oblivious to his presence, she absentmindedly rested a hand on her swollen stomach as she reached for one of the framed photos placed along the mantelpiece of the unused fireplace. A smiled touched her lips as she studied the photograph. He wondered where her trip down memory lane was taking her.

Remy smiled as a curious contentment settled over him while he surveyed the scene before him. Though they had tidied before bedtime, the signs of family life filled the room—baskets of toys were hidden on low shelves, a half-read book laid face down with the pages splayed open on the end table, a few miscellaneous crayons blended in with the rug, and a forgotten, stuffed lovey was abandoned on the couch. While it sometimes confused him, he loved this comfortable disarray. It was so foreign to what he knew, but instinctually it felt right. When he had first met Rogue all those years ago, he could never have dreamed that he would be permitted such happiness. Picking up the neglected book, he tsked softly as he closed it and returned it to its place.

"Whatchya doin' up, swamp rat?" Rogue didn't turn as Remy silently padded up behind his wife.

"Couldn' sleep." He wrapped his arms around her waist and gently placed a hand on her stomach near her bare hand. Using her long hair as a protective layer, he pressed a series of kisses below her ear and down the side of her neck.

"Careful," she murmured more out of habit than actual need for caution. This was a dance they knew by heart and performed without a second thought whenever it was needed. Tucking her free hand into the long sleeve of her robe, she rested it over his and held him to her. With a deep, contented sigh, she relaxed into his hold and closed her eyes. "This is nice."

"Everyt'ing okay, chère?" Remy closed his eyes and breathed in her sweet scene of honey and magnolias and feeling that in this moment, all was right in the world.

"Yes. The little one couldn' sleep, which meant neither could Ah," she said around a languid yawn. She ran her thumb across her belly and over his thumb in a small arc. Before he could press the matter, she added, "We're fine."

"You should have woken me." He kissed her temple.

Her shoulders brushed against his chest as she shrugged. "Ya looked so peaceful sleepin' there. Ah didn' want to bother ya. Besides, you needed the sleep more than Ah needed the company. What time did ya get in?"

"Not too late—sometime after one-thirty, maybe two at de latest." He shrugged. "You know I don' mind if you wake me. Sleep better with you dere."

"Hmm." Rogue hummed happily as he peppered kisses along her shoulders. "Lils home yet?"

"Oui. Heard her sneak in as I was passing her room. De other enfants were sound asleep."

Rogue tsked softly in mock disapproval. "Ya gonna let her know ya caught her?"

"Depends on what I find when de sun rises. If dere's no evidence of her sneaking out, I'll wait 'til Mercy and Père arrive for brunch." A mischievous grin lit his face. "T'ink I'll ask Mercy 'bout last night's training exercises and see who breaks first."

"You're evil," Rogue laughed in good natured amusement.

"Given de chance, she'd do de same t' me." He turned his wife around so they faced each other and pressed his forehead to the crown of her head so they could revel in the simple nearness of each other. Twirling a loose curl around his fingers, Remy pressed the looped hair to his lips. He had long ago lost track of the number of times he'd run his finger through her hair in lieu of caressing her forbidden skin. Even now when they could usually touch more often than not, the brushing of fingers through hair remained an intimate gesture of love and respect.

Rogue wrapped her arms around him. She still held the framed picture; it pressed against his lower back. A playful spark glimmered in her green eyes as she continued to tease her husband. "Hmph. Like Mercy would get the opportunity to find out what you're up."

Remy chuckled in agreement. While he was responsible for his daughter's training when they were in New York, whenever they were in New Orleans, Mercy took charge of the girl's training. Watching Mercy interact with her niece made Remy think his belle-soeur would have made a wonderful mother. His smile faltered as guilt pricked at his conscience as it did every time the thought crossed his mind. He often wondered if Henri hadn't died warning him about the assassin plot, would Henri and Mercy have had children of their own?

"Don' do that. It ain't your fault." As if reading his thoughts—she probably was through the subtle shift of emotions playing out on his face—Rogue smoothed the deep furrow between his brows which appeared whenever he tried to shoulder the blame for something that wasn't his fault. "The assassins were out for blood, sugah. Julian wouldn't be satisfied until he took someone from ya. If it weren't your brother, it would have been your cousins or your père,...or me."

As the reminder hung heavy in the air, Remy nodded, silently accepting Rogue's gentle reminder. It had taken years for him to come to the place where he could accept the idea that not every bad thing which had happened in his life was ultimately his fault. Little by little and day by day, sa chère femme aimantée helped him release the burdens of guilt, shame, and self-hatred which hung heavy on his shoulders and haunted his thoughts. The darkness still haunted him, but he was no longer alone.

Rogue readjusted her hold, laying her head against his shoulder and snuggling against his side. He rested his cheek against the top of her head. The corner of the frame jabbed him in the back. Reaching behind them with the arm not wrapped around Rogue's shoulders, Remy plucked the photograph from her hand. She started causing him to realize she had once again become lost in thought.

"What are you thinkin', mon coeur?" He studied the picture which had captured her attention. It was a candid snapshot taken by one of their friends on their wedding day. The wind had snagged the edge of her borrowed veil and they were both laughing as they tried to contain the diaphanous fabric. Though the hazy veil half obscured his face, their was no disguising the complete joy on both of their faces. On that day, he thought he could never be happier. Since then, he'd been proven wrong time and time again.

Tracing the lines of their faces in the photograph, Rogue smiled fondly. She placed the picture back on the mantle among the growing collection representing their friends and family. When they had first met, they were two lost souls who believed they would always be alone. Now, their lives were forever entwined and their family continued to grow. "We've come a long way, haven' we, swamp rat?"

"Oui, you can say dat again," Remy concurred in a deep, resonate rumble. His hand rested on her stomach and he absently rubbed small circles against the taut flesh. The baby shifted under his hand causing Rogue to groan and shift uncomfortably in his arms.

"Ow." Using the cuff of her robe as cover, she placed her hand over Remy's, stilling the movement. "It ain't gonna be much loner now."

Instantly Remy was on alert. While there were still a couple of weeks before she was due, it was possible for the bèbè to come early. "Mon coeur?"

"Relax Remy. Ah'm fine. She's just anxious to meet her papa in person."

"Is it time?" Remy rolled to the balls of his feet, making a mental list of everything that needed to be done. This wasn't their their first time doing this, not even their second.

"Nah. Don' fret, it ain't time." Rogue shook her head. "She don' have much room left in there. We're both gettin' a mite uncomfortable and ready for this to be over."

"D'accord. I just worry 'bout you both. If somet'ing happened..." His words trailed off as though giving voice to his worries might increase the probabilities of them occurring.

This pregnancy had been more difficult than her previous ones. Not that the others had been a walk in the park either, but this one had proved particularity challenging. Added to all the normal challenges of pregnancy, Rogue had the additional difficulty of her powers intermittently spiraling out of control. If her previous pregnancies were anything to go by, the unmanageable overspill of her powers came in fits and started. However, this time, her powers were acting up so badly that it had been months since he and Rogue had been able to touch skin on skin without her powers activating.

"Ah know what ya mean, swamp rat. Don' know what Ah'd do if somethin' happened to you..." The sentence trailed off unfinished, neither wanting to contemplate the reality of the concern. Rogue cupped his check as she ran her thumb over the sharp prickle of his early morning stubble which pierced through the protective layers between them. Swallowing back the lump of emotion, she persisted. Her tone, while still serious held a hint of teasing. "Now ya know how Ah feel every time ya disappear on a job."

"Fair enough," he conceded. Over the years they'd been together, he'd often gotten upset when she'd obsessively fret about him going off on his own during a job or mission. He had once thought it meant she didn't trust him, but now he understood. She didn't want to lose him anymore than he wanted to lose her. If there were any way for them to prevent such a tragedy, nothing on heaven or earth would stop them. But, it was hard to watch his back when she didn't know where he was."You know, 'm trying to be better 'bout dat..."

"Swamp rat, Ah understand."

She met his burning red eyes with her passionate green eyes. The intensity of her gaze was so strong, Remy fought the instinct to look away. Instead he returned the gaze with equal fervor. Locked together in a moment of exquisite, crystalline harmony, all sense of time stopped as the world around them slipped away. They belonged to each other heart and soul. No force existed anywhere in the Multiverse which could tear their bond asunder. They would always find each other.

A sensuous smile bloomed across his wife's face which he reciprocated with a sensual grin of his own. Want, passion, and desire sizzled in the air between them. It had been too long. Did he dare? The look in her eyes, the expression on her face, told him all he needed to know.

He leaned in, clearly telegraphing his desire. Her eyes fluttered nearly close. Beneath her eyelids, all he could see of her irises were the sliver of vibrant green. At his nearness, her lips parted with need as her breath caught for a second before releasing in a warm caress against his lips.

"Careful," she whispered. Despite her repeated warning, she leaned into his embrace, relaxing with the familiarity of his touch.

He paused when his lips nearly brushed hers. "Trust me."

When she nodded, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Allowing her to take the lead, she deepened the kiss. It wasn't long before her powers began to pull. The burgeoning absorption brushed against his psyche like a caress. With a slight tug, it pulled at his recent memories and the emotions connected with them. For another few seconds, he could pull away without risking harm, after that it would be a gamble. But, he didn't let the risks stop him. He trusted in his wife completely. She wouldn't hurt him.

He gathered all the memories he'd dwelled on since waking and freely offered them to her as a token of his love for her—his Rogue, the love of his life, the heart of his heart, his Beloved. Though her powers pulled at his memory, powers, and psyche, he felt Rogue's iron clad control over the rate at which she absorbed him.

Experiencing every memory as though they were her own, Rogue shivered with desire and pulled his body closer. He knew what she was seeing and he couldn't help but grin and deepen the embrace at her instinctual response. They'd done this a myriad of times. Each memory he willingly shared with her was filled with his love and respect and desire for her. Of home and family. He learned how to share not just the darkness which haunted the depths of his soul, but the good as well.

When Remy wobbled, his head swimming and his breathing a half-ragged pant, he steadied himself against her as a final wave of memories surged from him to her. She gasped against his lips in a swell of desire, awe, and pain. Before he could fall unconscious, Rogue broke the kiss. "Are ya okay?"

Remy nodded as he caught his breath and stilled his rapidly racing heart. She nestled in his arms and relaxed into his closeness. Like him, she needed a moment to regain her composure and process the influx of memories which came with the pull of her powers on his psyche. The effects of absorbing his memories and experiencing first hand the love and gratitude he felt for her, left an effervescent glow on her face. "Ah love ya too, swamp rat."

Still experiencing the after effects of the power drain, she supported his weight as they staggered across the room and sank bonelessly into the couch. They curled up in each other's arms, wanting to prolong the closeness that sharing memories provided. Like she had said earlier, they had come a long way together. Even with all the troubles her powers had been giving her lately, Rogue no longer saw them as only a curse. Not when the powers allowed the couple to share moments like this.

Once, even as completely covered as they were now, his Roguey would never have considered a simple embrace was even within the realm of possibility. Now, she did so without a second thought. Once, he would have kept his memories and his secrets, his guilts and his passions tightly locked within him. Now, he shared them freely and the burdens became lighter as their relationship grew stronger.

"Thank you, mon coeur," Remy's eyelids grew heavy. Exhaustion was finally catching up with him.

"For what?" she murmured through a yawn.

He kissed the crown of her head. "For showin' me dat it was possible t' love. Dat true love still exists. Dat there is a place I belong, where 'm wanted. Dat love is worth de risk."

"Remy, don' ya know, lovin' you is always worth the risk." Closing her eyes, she snuggled up as close as humanly possibly into the encompassing embrace of his arms and relaxed in a way only possible when assured of complete acceptance and safety. Down to the very depths of their souls, there was no doubt that they would always find home and harbor—belonging and safety—when they were together.

Remy LeBeau was the rarest thing in the world, a thief with nothing of value left to steal. He already possessed what mattered most in the universe—unconditional love, home, and belonging. Anything else he could pilfer was a mere pittance in comparison to the invaluable gift his Rogue had offered him. Not only had she won his heart, she had freely given him hers. One could not steal what had already been given. And, he wouldn't have it any other way. He'd risked it all—his life, his heart, his very soul, his past and his future—for her and had come away with a reward greater than he could have ever imagined.

The End


Author's Note:

Since this chapter focuses on memories and the way things change over time, there are many callbacks to incidents which happen in the comics and previous chapters in this story (and a few from my writing). Some of these references are implied, others are quite overt. While some of these allusions are more or less pulled from the comics, others are details/emotions/reasoning inferred from what appeared on panel, and still others are my interpretations/extrapolations of what happened during scenes.

Here are a few of the references. (If you have questions on others, please feel free to ask).

- Remy waking up holding the pillow smelling of Rogue - in Chapter 5: 'A View of Starlight From Within a Bottomless Well,' Glowbug (on ao3) left a comment saying, "I half expect he falls asleep on her shoulder, then wakes up the next morning tucked into his own bed with maybe a whiff of magnolia on top of the blankets…" And I loved that image. Since I couldn't use it in the original chapter, I decided to pay homage to that here. Thanks Glowbug!

- The house Gambit bought for him and Belle/Henri dying/Remy think he wouldn't settle down/Rogue in New Orleans - all referenced from the first 'Gambit' mini-series (1994).

- Rogue's house in New Orleans/the sword scar/Rogue pulling Gambit back from the gates of death - from 'X-Treme X-Men' (2001), approximately issues #16-19. I do take a few liberties with the sword scar. The story mentions the nano-tech used to save Remy's life caused the scar to fade rather quickly. I like the imagery of the scar remaining, so I tend to keep the scar. Also, Rogue may have inherited the house from Irene as well as the money. It is not stated directly, though we know Rogue inherited property and money from her foster mother (enough money that she would 'never be poor again.' Again, I like the idea of the house being Rogue's choice, so she used the money to buy the house.

- 'Remain an almost' - a self-indulgent reference to my fic 'From Almost to Always'

- Being a better man - from Remy's wedding vows in 'X-Men Gold' #30 (2018)

- references to his childhood on the streets - Gambit was abandoned by his parents and spent his formative years living on the streets (this is referenced in multiple issues across his history. A couple of specific mentions can be found in 'Gambit Origins' and the 'Gambit' solo-series (Volume 3, 1999))

- Etienne - Remy's cousin who died during his Tilling while Remy was with him. ('Gambit' solo-series (Volume 3, issue #6))

- The candid snapshot of Rogue and Gambit from their wedding - referring back to the moment in the garden during Chapter 7 of this story (during the wedding reception)