The Need to Touch
by
Zerelda X



Storm and Gambit belong to Marvel. No profit, for entertainment only.




Ororo was about to step into the shower when she heard the knock on the door. With a sigh she slipped on a robe and went to answer it.

It was after midnight. Who would be up at this hour, or home at this hour? Anyone at home would have already gone to bed.

She opened the door slowly, ready to plead exhaustion to whoever wanted something from her.

Remy leaned against the opposite wall, his eyes lifting to hers when she peered out from around the door. He looked at her apologetically, his shoulders hunched and his face withdrawn. He'd changed for bed, wearing an old T-shirt and sweats.

She didn't want to let him in, but she silently opened the door wider and watched him move past her to sprawl gracefully in a chair by the door. Almost as if he expected to make a quick getaway, or perhaps he thought she'd toss him back out for the disruption. What could have made such a change in him?

She would never turn her back on him, but the idea he would think so bothered her. "Is there something I can do for you?" she asked him gently.

He blinked up at her, for once not wearing the dark glasses she was so accustomed to seeing, even at night while at home. His eyes blazed at her briefly, then dulled in self-defeat. "I... I doan know. Can I talk to you, 'Ro?"

"Of course you may. Will you wait here while I shower first?"

For the first time, his eyes flickered over her, recognizing her state of dishabille. He started to rise to his feet. "I'm sorry, chere..."

"Sit down, I will be more than happy to talk to you after I shower." She pressed him back down in the chair. "I will take no more than a few minutes, then we can discuss whatever is bothering you."

He nodded, closing his eyes and leaning back. "Merci, chere."

~*~*~*~*~


Wrapping a towel around her hair, she slipped on her nightgown and robe and went back into the bedroom. She stopped at the doorway, the sight that greeted her nearly stunning her into shock.

Remy was lying down, as if he had sat on the edge of her bed and simply fell backwards. For a moment she considered sending him away, if she could have, no matter how he might feel if she did.

There were some things she couldn't do to him. Sending him away when he needed her was one of them.

"Remy, what are you doing?"

"Sorry," he began halting, sitting up as though he'd been caught doing something shameful. "I go 'way, chere." He rubbed his eyes, looking as lost and alone as any child she'd ever seen.

"You didn't answer my question."

He gave her an uncertain look, something she'd never seen from him before. She finally realized he'd never allowed this ... vulnerability ... to show in front of the others. The others may have glimpsed this side of him once or twice, but he came here, to her, when he needed someone. He needed her.

She sat down next to him. "There is something bothering you. Why don't you tell me what it is."

"Not been sleepin', chere."

That was something they all knew. He'd been spending far too much time on his feet, drinking too much, riding too fast, fighting too hard. It was easy enough to surmise he had been trying to wear himself out enough to sleep and, failing that, drink himself unconscious. What they didn't know was why, but she could guess. It was the same reason she'd been losing herself in the elements more and more often lately.

She was lonely.

"All right," she told him. "Lie down."

She was a bit surprised when he did as she asked, but no more so than he was. He'd been waiting for this, or hoping, even if he hadn't realized it yet.

Hesitantly, he stretched out to lay his head on a pillow, pulling another one into his arms to hold, closing his eyes. A deep sigh escaped him as his body relaxed bonelessly into the soft bed.

Ororo rubbed her damp hair with the towel and set it aside, along with her robe. She took a deep breath, seeking inner strength to survive this weakness on her part. She laid down on the other side, pulling the sheet over the two of them. He took the corner of the sheet in one hand and pulled it tightly over his shoulders.

She couldn't help herself. She reached out over the space that separated them, running her hand over his arm and shoulder, reassuring him that he wasn't alone.

He didn't want to spend the night alone. It was something she understood very well.

"You t'ink mebbe people need to touch?" he asked softly. "What would people do 'thout touchin', chere? If you love someone an' couldn' ever touch dem, wouldn' dat drive a person crazy?"

"Perhaps not crazy, but very unhappy." She didn't want to talk about this, not about his desire to touch Rogue, but she couldn't stop him now, not when he was finally opening himself up.

"People need to touch. You ever notice how much people touch each other? Even 'round here. Jeannie an' Cyclops can' pass in de hall 'thout touchin' each other."

"We touch people we love." She would curl up and die if she couldn't touch the ones she loved. She didn't know how Rogue could stand it. She didn't want to know.

"Betsy hangin' all over Warren all de time. Doan know if de gal knows dere's another seat in de house, 'cept de one Warren sit in."

She'd wondered about that one herself.

"An' Logan an' Char touchin' all de time."

"They are making up for their lost years." Decades worth of touching.

"I see dese t'ings, an' I wish I didn'. You an' Jean an' Char, you all touchin' de rest of us all de time. Even Henri come out of his moods when Jeannie touch him. I seen it. We can' separate de mind an' body, can we?"

"It would be difficult." She missed feeling someone else's heartbeat, feeling the rhythm of their breathing.

He missed it, too. She could hear it in his voice.

"Words ain' enough, are dey? When it comes down to it, only touch will do."

His pain was breaking her heart.

Ororo moved up behind him, curling herself along his body, and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "Go to sleep, Remy," she whispered in his hair.

A part of her wanted to say it out loud. I need you, I want to you to touch me. I need to touch. I need to feel your skin. I need....

Saying the words would only make things complicated. She had no desire to become the third in their private conflict.

Remy relaxed even further, his body sagging against hers, trusting her with his slumber. She held him to her heart and stroked his hair as he succumbed to sleep.

Sleep was a long time coming for Ororo, but the night wasn't empty. Not when she could touch.



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