Notes: This is the Sequel to Le Diable Blanc. So if you haven't read that, you probably should. Brief babble: Marvel owns these characters not I. One suitable difference between here and Le Diable Blanc.. well. You'll figure it out.
Light sparkled and glimmered through the tunnels. Mirrors had been set up just so. Candles were arrayed the way they had not been in two years, and each one flickered lightly in the dank air. Shadows were banished from the tunnels today, darkness itself was. What was still left of the Alley was lit to afternoon like brilliance, and a man with reddish-brown hair kneeled amidst the plaques that had been laid in memory of the fallen, and mold and lichen covered everything but the plaques almost like grass outside.
He was a tall man, standing approximately at 6'3". She knew most would account him ruggedly handsome, if not downright sinfully beautiful. Today faint stubble crossed his chin, and that beaten brown duster of his clung about his body. Most over looked how broad his shoulders were, in comparison to how tall he was. She knew that from a distance almost slender seeming body was corded with powerful muscles.
He murmured over each plaque he passed. What he said, she didn't try to eavesdrop on. She had done the same, while he had watched. It was his turn now.
She didn't count, or keep track. In truth, she didn't even keep her eyes on Remy while he went about his business. Instead her mind was going inward. Too many memorials, too many memories that they had had to visit. He'd been with her almost a year, and over the last year they had visited Belladonna's grave in the quiet of the night, each leaving flowers for Remy's first love. Then there had been the service for Jean Grey, after the incident up North. Remy was still beating himself up over that, she knew. Yet he'd done what he had to do, taking charge of all the students in the escape tunnels.
What, precisely, the thief thought he could have done if he'd been with them at the Damn, Storm wasn't sure. Yet in true Remy LeBeau fashion, he took on guilt for being unable to protect them all, and not all the attackers that night on the mansion had fallen to Logan's claws. It was eerie, to realize that the many who whispered he loved her each night had been capable of that kind of extremely lethal response once he realized those soldiers were a threat to the children.
In truth, she had initially thought he'd been fighting his own demons, but he hadn't damaged the mansion hardly at all, and were he seeing the Marauders in the place of the soldiers, surely he would have? Ororo still wasn't certain, one way or the other.
"Y'got dat far away look again, mon amour." His voice was husky, and his sunglasses were on. No doubt to hide the fact his eyes were watery. Funny, that she the Goddess did not try to hide such a fact, while the thief hid his tears behind thin layers of plastic.
He'd came up on her quietly while she had been in thought, and Ororo simply extended her hand, and the two of them began to walk the long corridors that would take them from the Tunnels. The Morlocks had been remembered, and for the day at least, Light would reign in the tunnels that once was their home.
"Are you certain you still want to visit Jean's grave, before we get back tonight Remy?" She frowned. He dwelled, always in thoughts. Even she didn't always know what was going on in that head of his, and she could read more emotion from each twitch and line in his face then anyone in the mansion but Logan could ever hope to pick up from Gambit. Tension.
"Oui. Got respects to pay, Stormy. Den we promised dat we would let Jubilee try her new Home Ec skills out on us. De Lord help us, she try an make us a french meal." He offered a chuckle and a grin to her, and she just squeezed his hands as they departed the tunnels.
As the pair exited the tunnels, candles gutted out, and a faint wind seemed to hang over the Morlock Tunnels. As candles faded, all of that near day light strength light was lost, and darkness reigned once more. Save for a pair of red eyes looking from the center of the darness.
"The finest training, training from my own hand, and this is the best, the most, you seek from life Remy LeBeau? Teaching young coddled children? Dallying with a mutant who pretends to be a Goddess? At least Summers has brain damage to blame his ill decisions upon, what excuses do you have Gambit?"
"No, this will not do at all. I have given you free reign for too long. You begin to think you control your life once again, it is time you remember you play your games with the hand that Sinister dealt you."
In time, the chill and the eyes faded, and rats scurried through the tunnels once again. No longer scared off by the malign presence, or the two noisy humans who'd come before it.
Christ. How'd I end up getting stuck in this position?
Logan desperately wanted to know the answer to that. Because he didn't really have an answer, as to why he was dragging Scott Summers out of the bath room and throwing him onto his bed. Then trudging back to the bathroom to wash his hands off, and make sure the rest of the vomit was cleaned up. Not because he was doing Scott a favor, but because the scent was assaulting his nose.
Even more the stench of alcohol on Slimm's breath was.
Once he'd cleaned the bathroom the shorter X-man stalked back to the bedroom, and dropped into a chair that creaked with his weight, to peer at the man with glasses. Who was currently clutching his pillow.Aw shit. Not this again. I'm gonna hurl. Damn you, Cyke.
He couldn't bring the hatred or disdain to bear he wanted to though. Months ago, he remembered his own grief once more. The pain of losing a loved one, the loss of Mariko. Now Scott was going through a loss of his own, of Jean. He wasn't sure he really understood that rapport thingy the Professor said they'd had, but it'd screwed Scott up bad when Jean died. Real bad.
"Thanks Logan."
That caught him by surprise, and he eyed the other man suspiciously. "Fer what bub?"
"For pulling me out of Harry's, for dumping coffee down me, for keeping me from making a scene in front of the kids.. For the third time."
Scott's smell riled him. The man smelled half dead. Not physically, his emotional scent. He was like wood now, and the only real strong scents that came off him were despair, longing, misery, sorrow. It wasn't like it was Scott that died though. Except Chuck said that in a way, part of Scott died when Jean did. However the hell that worked. Damn telepaths.
"Yeah, well, don't to getting touchy feely on me Summers. Ain't nothing I wouldn't do fer none of the others neither. Ya gotta cut this shit out though, cuz next time I ain't gonna bail yer ass out from making a dipshit of yerself in front of the kids. Ya get me?"
Scott just groaned, and clutched the bed. Hah. Beds spinning, I bet. Serves ya right, drinking whiskey straight like ya had a healing factor.
"I.. got you, Logan." Scott answered him, after a significant delay. Apparently managing to make the bed stop spinning, since he wasn't clutching it anymore, and instead was clutching a pillow to his chest. Logan knew it was Jean's, even if her scent was starting to grow fainter on it.
"Yeah, well. You got people who look up to ya Scooter. Ya think Jubilee or Kitty know how to deal with the losses either? Ya got a right to grieve, but ya hurting others in yer selfishenss. Ya gotta get back up. It hurts, I lost .. my wife. First I wanted ta kill everyone who cost me her. Then I just wanted to die myself. Fer what? I don't know, but the pain eats ya. But ya see, I never learned the valuable lesson until Chuck taught it to me, even if people told me it at the time."
"You.. were married?" Scott sounded disbelieving.
"Yea." A sigh from Logan. "Yeah kid, I was. Back years ago, before the Project. I was in Japan, and fell in fer.. aw hell, this don't do you no good to hear. The important parts this, Summers. I coulda done any of those things, but ya know what the thing her friends an Chuck told me that helped was? She wouldn'ta wanted me too. She'd a wanted me to pick back on up, move on, be happy. So fer her, that's what I'm doing. I'm honoring her memory by staying with the X-men, teachin the punks here, cuz she'd a liked the idea I think."
Oh. Punk ass. I open up to you, and ya pass out while I'm talking? Dick.
"So like, now what happens?" The blonde who had a tendancy to over-use the word 'like' asked the group sitting around a table in the rec room, playing poker. Her name was Tabitha Smith. Gambit's influence and love of cards had spread a bit like wild fire amongst some of the more impressionable young men. Such as the young hayseed Kentuckian who was dealing, named Sam Guthrie.
"Well, from the way ah see it, classes start up again next week. We got a new German teacher, Mr Summers teaches maths, Miss Munroe teaches social studies, history and the like, the Professor handles English and literature, Mr LeBeau's and Logan are trading off on Phys Ed, Shop, and Gambit's handling French. That just leaves.."
"We know what it leaves, Sam." Kitty almost hissed at him. It left Dr Grey's subjects, sciences, health, and a hole as the default councilor of the school. Everyone had their own favorites to go to, from the Professor to Dr. Grey, some even went to Logan to talk, but most had went to Dr. Grey. She had a candy jar, after all, and was usually the most motherly of all of the faculty. The one who'd been most willing to empathize with them.
Kitty's words brought a silence on the table that even Rogue looked uncomfortable with, and for once Bobby wasn't playing any tricks. He just looked morosely at his cards.
"Maybe we'll like, get a new teacher?" Tabby broke the silence, her words, as well as with bubble gum. The crack of her gum like a spell had been dispelled, and a few laughs and barbs were exchanged amongst the kids.
"T'anks again for savin us, Prof." Remy chuckled as he slipped onto the couch in Xavier's study with Ororo besides him.
'Ro grimaced, and patted her stomach. "Jubilees efforts at French cuisine did not turn out as well as could be hoped." Storm opined, and Remy very nearly went into laughter at the studious and serious look on her face, as she passed judgement on Jubilee's cooking.
"No thanks are necessary, however I did move our meeting up some when I sensed both of yours discomfort." A faint smile crossed Xavier's face. Remy still wasn't sure if he trusted the old man, but he seemed to be on the up and up. Yet there was always the feeling that he was just waiting for the other hand to reveal itself. Maybe it was a lifetime of paranoia and being a thief, of life turning that way on him every time he was happy. In this instance, he was fairly sure he was wrong though, and it was just habit.
"I wanted the two of you to read over this file. I have been in contact with two of the members of the Mutant Underground. Both from London. They have expressed some level of willingness to help us deal with two issues we've been looking to deal with." Charles handed two files across to them, each taking one, leafing through, then sharing with the other.
"Purple hair? Cheesey. Oh merde..." Gambit knew his voice was trailing off in surprise, as he eyed the picture staring at him from one of the files. "Ya can't be serious. Dis man be one of ya underground operatives dat I hear bout?" He was giving Xavier an incredulous look he knew, and Storm was smirking at him.
"You've had the occasion to meet him before then, Remy?"
"Oiu. Twice. Once in London on a job dere, den again in de Czeck Republic. He Government type, but den, all we did was drink t'gether some an bitch bout somet'ings." Gambit admitted with a frown, while Storm laughed and Charles had that faint half smile.
"Was is the operative word, with both of them. Your 'friend' has recently left Government employ, and is up for a change of lifestyle. He was also able to provide a measure of details that made the next mission – a strike at one of Sinister's labs, a possibility."
Gambit frowned. The man hadn't struck him as -that- good when he'd met him.
"An de femme?"
"Her name is Elizabeth Braddock, Remy. Not 'femme'." Storm was frowning at him. Uhoh. Jealous streak. Then again, could he blame her? From the picture, the girl looked like she wandered around in a bathing suit and called it a costume.
"Elizabeth taught here previously, some years ago. Before her brother became Captain Britian, and she returned home. Since then, she's undergone some rather personal problems, and her Father and I both agreed she could help adjust better here, where there were less ties to her past then at her ancestral home."
"So ya telling me dis asian girl be British? How dat work?"
"It's a rather convoluted process, Remy, but I'm sure Elizabeth might be willing to explain it to you." Storm was smiling with those words. Note to self, don't ask her dat question. Not if Stormy smiling dat much.
"So den.. we just go pick dem up, or whatcha want Prof?" Remy had a bad feeling about all of this.
"No. Tomorrow you, Storm, Logan, and Nightcrawler will take the Black Bird to meet them. From there, with Storm in charge, you will complete the mission regarding Sinister's lab, and if both our English friends are content they will fit amongst us, they will come join us at the school afterward. Do your best to make them feel welcome. Both would be assets to the School, and help free up our teaching load for all of us."
".. y'gonna let him teach?"
"If you read the file, Remy, Mr. Wisdom is a certified genius. Cryptography, communications, physics. Despite his rough exterior, I have been assured by those who have worked with him that he is capable to teach. Despite his demeanor."
"Pete Wisdom.. heh. Don't say I didn't tell ya." Remy warned, and realized Storm was smirking at him again. With a sigh, he grabbed her hand, squeezed then smiled brightly.
"Well, if dat's everything, den me an Stormy, we didn't finish our dinner, an I still starving." He felt Storm's pulse quicken at the look in his eyes, and Xavier shaking his head almost as if he were murmuring 'children'.
Which just made him grin even more as he led Storm out.
Author's Note: Next Up: Pete Wisdom, Psylocke, woo.