How many times had I watched this happen? Someone or something tear the Cajun apart? When did I start to give a shit? When he first showed up I saw him as some ego driven man that drug a thirteen year old kid thieving with him. That is when it was, that night, when I yelled that to his face. That's when I realized he wasn't the man I thought he was. He was a scared kid forced to keep his masks on so tight that he didn't even know who he was anymore. A kid wanting a family so badly that our rejection was killing him slowly.
That night I found him curled up in one of the shower stalls. So afraid to let anyone see him cry that he used the shower to hide his tears. That is when the facade was broken for me. He was just a skinny little brat who's scars showed the feirce battle he called life. He was too young to have scars like that, too young to hate the world, too young to be lonely. My heart tugged at that scene. It was a mix of beauty and ugliness. Art and life. Lust and love. That was the first time I had felt that for him. I refused to let it show, never told him how I felt. I thought the feeling would fade, but I was wrong. Watching his life over the years it only grew stronger. His relationships bringing out emotions I never thought I could feel towards a man or woman for that matter.
That is what I felt when Belladonna came into play. Finding out Remy was married didn't make me angry like it made everyone else. I was jealous, of her, that she had him. That she held a part of him in her heart and her in his. I fought side by side with him to protect her, and his family. I helped him avenge her death in those sewers, even though I couldn't help but feel a small amount of pleasure that she died, and I hated myself for that. I could have stepped up then, became his rock. The person he needed to help him through such a loss. Instead of being there for him I let him fall into Rogue's arms.
That is all that relationship created for me. I didn't need more anger, but that is what Rogue gave me. I watched as she ripped away the best of Gumbo and then threw him away like an old toy. It almost broke him. I could tell he wanted to walk away so many times, but was afraid to. Afraid to be alone, scared to be the misfit again. I could have helped him. Gave him a way out. Showed him that he would never be lonely. I didn't, I let him suffer, and I sat and watched as he slowly died by her hands. He came back after they parted the last time, and again I was given a chance. And again I let it slip through my hands and watched him run to another.
I truly felt hate, not towards Bobby, but towards the Cajun. I couldn't help it. Their relationship hurt me. I had always used the excuse that I was a man, that he didn't see me as more of a friend because I wasn't a woman. I hated him for giving Bobby everything I wanted. Giving everything to a man that cared nothing for him, just wanted someone to satisfy his curiosity and then move on. Running to a man that barely knew him when I knew it all, loved it all. I truly hated the man I loved. It was tearing me apart. But that's over now. No more hate...
I stand here in the doorway of the locker room at the beginning again. Staring at the scrawny kid that has grown to a Roman God before my eyes. Sitting in a shower hiding his tears from the world. Again all the tears being wasted on lonliness and hurt. Beauty fading into ugliness. Art being ripped apart by life. My lust taken over by love. I won't be a coward anymore, I won't let him slip away. I will give him hope.