" And 'dey say you can't go home again," Remy murmurs leaning against a wall and taking out his lighter. He hesitates for a moment, and then a bitter chuckle escapes his lips. " Well, ain't no one gonna live forever, eh mon ami?" With that rhetorical question out of the way, Remy lights his cigarette. Quitting the first time was one of the hardest things he had ever done. Right next to leaving this place, leaving everyone he'd ever loved. Leaving...he'd say that he hadn't thought of you in ages, but that'd be a lie. Even when he was miles away in Westchester, lightyears away in space, wherever the X-Men took him, his heart was still with you, running through markets, stealing anything that wasn't bolted down, and splitting a beignet or a cigarette under the moonlight in the summer heat.

" 'Cept that was a lifetime ago." Remy sighs a little. It's bad enough he's smoking again, but now he's talking to himself too. But then, these last few weeks, Remy had only kept his company, isolated from the X-Men. Remy had said it was his choice to leave, that he didn't trust himself not to hurt the others as the Horseman of Death. But Remy suspected-feared, that it wasn't his choice. That there was no home for him at the mansion anymore, not after siding with Apocalypse.

Blowing a puff of smoke into the night, Remy wonders if he'll ever be welcomed back to the X-Men, or if he has lost another home, and a piece of his heart shatters. Before he can spend too much time on that train of thought, Remy hears a set of footsteps. Some thief out to make a mark, he's sure. Remy is about to quip about how it must be amateur hour, but then he looks up and sees who it is.

" Ma chère?" Remy's voice catches in his throat when he sees you, his spouse. He'd left without so much of a goodbye when he had been excommunicated. In a life full of regrets, that was chief among them. Under his trademark fingerless gloves is a ring he could never take off. But now here you were and Remy tries to hide his heartbreak behind his cigarette.