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CHAPTER 4: PRETENSE

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Despite what he was expecting, Franklin Richards did not have nightmares about his parent’s death that night. How could he, when he couldn’t even sleep? Ororo Munroe had not returned from her mission against Emma Frost, so the wind-rider was not present to halt the storm that weathered about the house.

The cracks of thunder and flashes of lightning frightened the boy, and forced him to hide underneath the bed sheets. The fact that a thunderstorm was thundering outside did not frighten him so much as the fact that a thunderstorm was thundering outside and he was *alone*. He did not want to be alone. His first thought was that he wanted his mother. The second thought was that she was already dead. Around the third thought, he figured that he’d settle for Remy. But Remy was probably sound asleep like most grown-ups were during the scary storms.

Franklin hugged his stuffed bear tight, wishing the storm to go away. Unfortunately, another boom of thunder broke his concentration sending him hiding under the bed once again. Finally making up his mind, the young Richards ventured forth from his room.

Holding his bear close, he slowly tredded the dark hallway in search of Remy’s abode. The cajun had shown the boy where everyone slept, just in case he should need to talk to someone. And the boy definitely needed someone now. Finally turning the corner, he found Gambit’s sanctuary.

But the door was closed. Franklin paused. He was a brave child, but still a child. And like children across the world, a closed door in a dark hallway during a frightening storm set loose the imagination. He pictured monsters under the bed, and creeping goblins behind closed doors. And this was one such closed door. He turned in search of a more welcoming entry-way.

He did not have to venture far till he found a door--opened a crack--with a small glow shining forth from it. He peaked in. Rogue lay comfortably stretched out on her bed, reading a small paper-back to the lamp light. She toyed with the strap of her night-gown as she mouthed the words of her book.

He pushed the door a bit further, only to have it creak under his hand. Rogue turned quickly, instantly alert for any danger. Her muscles relaxed upon seeing the frightened boy.

“Hey, Sugah. What’re ya’ll doin’ up so late?”

The boy stood there awkwardly, unsure if it was a question of why or an invitation to enter.

“Miss Rogue? I, uh, ummm..”

“Jus’ Rogue, honey.”

The boy blurted out his thoughts.

“C’n I stay here until the storm goes ‘way?”

She gave a surprised, yet delighted smile.

“O course!”

She moved over on her bed, making room for him. Patting the space next to herself, she beckoned the boy over. Franklin hopped onto the springy mattress, holding his bear tight. He flinched as another roll of thunder hit outside. Fearing the next round of outermural noise, he grabbed Rogue’s arm and placed it around himself, feeling a sense of security from the self-created hug.

Rogue shifted her position. Soon realizing that she would not be finishing her novel with the small boy hogging her arm, she set the tome down and turned off the light. When the thunder rolled, causing the boy to hug her even closer, she did not resist. She knew he wasn’t her child. She knew also that he probably wanted his mother right now, seeing her as a substitute.

She didn’t mind. Before Franklin, Remy had been the only one not afraid of her touch. The others, thought they did it less and less often, automatically flinched at the brush of her skin. Despite this, Rogue continued to entertain hopes for the future. Thoughts of home. Thoughts of Remy. Thoughts of starting a family of their own.

She hugged the boy close. He wasn’t hers, but just for tonight--she could at least pretend.

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The night was still. The only disturbance was the sound of four X-men returning home. Bishop, Sage, Storm, and Wolverine slowly entered into their home, ready for a long nights rest in their respective beds.

Logan sniffed the air. The Cajun was home. Everything smelled alright except for a scent that he couldn’t seem to recognize....

Rrrr-ARK!

“ARRRRGGHH!”

Remy Lebeau awoke to the sound of Logan’s roaring. Hurrying down the hallway, he rushed to the entry-way and turned on the light. It was one of the most pathetic sights he had ever seen.

There was the great Wolverine screaming like a mad-man with a tiny mechanical puppy biting into his leg. If it weren’t for the daggers in the Canadian’s eyes, Remy would have burst out laughing.

The X-men gathered around Remy awaiting and explaination.

“Hope ya got a good excuse fer this, Cajun...’cause these metal teeth hurt an’ I’m waitin’ ta flamin’ take it out on somethin’ made o’ flesh and blood.”

“De puppy ain’t mine, mon ami...b’longs t’Franklin”

“Who’s Franklin?”

Remy gulped.

“He’s m’ward....”