Disclaimer: Marvel and WB (the bastards) own Remy, Scott and de X-Men. Not me.
Well colour me shocked. I wrote a story. An X-Men evo story! Wow. This doesn't happen as often as it should anymore. But I wanted something short. Surprise surprise it turns out to be Remy/Scott… I love these guys! hugs Please enjoy and leave a review, good or bad. I want it all.
Oh yeah, and somebody please give me a new title 'cause ick!
Mission Impossible
Nari
Rundown was the only way to describe it. Peeling wallpaper, cracked plaster, faulty wiring that made the lights flicker and cast eerie shadows over the walls. Trash littered the halls. Someone was passed out on the floor, bottle of alcohol rolled out of a now slack grip. Loud noise of a rutting couple drifted through too thin walls.
He had seen his fair share of dives before. Stayed in a few himself. This was certainly up there with some of the worst. He sneered in disgust as a rat scurried by in front of him. Never thought he'd see the day when one of the X-Men, self-righteous bastards, would sink so low.
Not that anyone was complaining. At least not anyone he had spoken to. Naturally the X-Men probably weren't too happy. But what it meant for them, them being the Acolytes, was one of the most important X-Men was all on his own. A perfect situation to take advantage of.
A flight of stairs and a short walk down the second floor brought him to the right room. 214. The two was hanging upside down on its remaining nail. Shaking his head, he raised a hand to knock.
No answer. Not a problem.
Lock picks were extracted from his pocket and he stooped down slightly to pick the pathetic looking lock. The doorknob turned under his hand. He raised an eyebrow, shrugged and stepped inside, safely stowing the lock picks back in the pocket of his trench.
He scanned the room. It looked surprisingly clean. The plaster was still cracked and the wallpaper still peeling. Overall clean though. Not so bad to live in. Scanning the room, his gaze settled over Scott sitting on the bed, leant back against the headboard. He watched Remy impassively, showing no signs of surprise at the sudden entrance.
Remy's eyebrow arched higher. He scanned the room once more before settling his gaze on Scott. "Ain't y' gonna greet me?" With all his standard cockiness in place.
Scott shrugged. "I'm not joining Magneto's team."
Right to business then. So much for small talk. "De X-Men come t' talk y' back yet?" No answer which Remy took as answer enough. "How long y' been here for?"
Still no answer. Remy let the silence continue for a moment, once again scanning the room.
"What do you look for?"
Remy started slightly at the unexpected question, looking back to Scott. "Eh?"
"You keep looking around, what are you looking for?" It was an honest question; obviously Scott had been watching him rather closely. Remy could only curse the glasses.
"Never know when somet'in's gonna jump out at y'." So he was paranoid. Scott probably understood.
"It's safe here."
Remy nodded. He didn't doubt it.
It was several moments before Scott spoke again. "Take a seat."
Least he wasn't being kicked out. He stepped up to the bed, sat crossed legged at the foot. Again there was silence. Again Scott broke it.
"Don't you ever get tired of it?"
Remy frowned. Vaguely wondered what was making Scott so communicative. It sounded as though he didn't particularly care about any of it anymore. He'd given up, given in. It seemed wrong somehow to see a leader of the X-men this way. Even if it did, for all intensive purposes, make his life a lot easier.
"Tired of what?"
"Magneto and Xavier. And all their supposedly righteous bullshit. We follow them blindly, without question. We trust them. But in the end it doesn't work. They're battling out a petty grievance and using us to do it. We're fighting the good fight, or the bad, but we're only fighting each other. Doesn't help anyone. Doesn't not help anyone either."
"Day why y' here? Y' sick of doing de Prof's fights?" Didn't want to think that there was any credibility to what Scott had just said. It didn't matter. Wouldn't change anything for him.
Scott seemed to consider the question seriously. "No. It wouldn't have made a difference."
There was definitely more to that sentence and Remy raised an eyebrow. "Except?"
"He pushed too hard. Always trying to get us to our full potential. Guess it worked pretty good." He looked almost haunted.
"What de hell happened over dere anyway?" Spoken slowly. He was starting to wonder if he wanted to know.
It was a moment before Scott answered. "Jean. He pushed too hard and she couldn't handle it. The telepathy drove her insane, now she wants to kill us all and I can't exactly blame her."
This was news to him; he had only known that Scott had left. Didn't know why. It was hard to imagine a pissed off Jean trying to kill her friends. Yet it was obvious Scott wasn't lying.
"So she's tryin' t' kill y' an' yet here y' are. On y' own, makin' a nice target."
"Pretty much."
"Y' broodin'" He was fairly certain Scott blinked at him. "Y' girlfriend switched t' de dark side an' y' sulking over it. Dat's what it boils down t'."
Scott didn't reply other than to turn his head away.
"Because y' felt like t'rowing a tantrum, y' deserted y' team when dey probably needed y'. Congratulations, Scotty, y' on y' way t' switchin' sides yourself."
"Fuck off, Gambit."
"Guess y' shoulda kicked me out when I first came in."
"Nothing stopping me from doing it now." Spoken rather hotly.
"Non." Remy agreed simply. Scott didn't make any move. Remy sighed. Focused on this new matter that more than deserved some attention. "Jean's really a t'reat den?"
It was a moment before Scott spoke. "Her powers have gone… beyond her limit. She's an omega level telepath and telekinetic. You know what that means?" Said in a slightly patronizing tone.
Remy nodded. Scott drove the point home anyways. "She's got the power to change the world. Rule it. Destroy it."
"Dat still brings up de question of why y' sittin' here not doin' anyt'ing about it." It was almost… scary to see an X-Men leader giving up hope. He had no doubt that Scott wasn't lying. No one could fake the pain he could practically see coming off the guy. He'd loved Jean and lost her. In such a way he wasn't going to get her back.
"We can't stop her. The X-Men aren't enough on their own. She'll destroy us and come after whoever's next on the list. The Brotherhood. You."
"So y' givin' up?" Disbelief was evident in his voice.
"I'm brooding."
"I t'ought y' X-Men had higher morals dan dis." His tone was almost appalled.
He wasn't prepared for the fury that met that statement. Time seemed to skip and instantly Scott had launched himself forward, knocking them both off the bed. He hardly even had the time to get his arms up to protect his face as Scott began blindly slamming in to him with clenched fists.
"Don't you dare preach to me! I lost her!" Yelling at Remy as he threw the largely ineffectual hits.
Dazed and surprised by the sudden attack it was a moment before Remy could gather enough wits to grab hold of Scott's wrists and stop him.
"Stop, Scott." He was slightly breathless from the assault.
The fight seemed to bleed from Scott though and he slumped down on to Remy's chest, breaking down into silent tears that slid from under his glasses.
Now this was unexpected. He'd come with the hope of converting Scott to the dark side. Now he had the boy crying into his shirt. Maybe this could be considered a step in the right direction?
"Scott…" He started but had no clue what to say. What the hell were you supposed to say in this situation?
When your supposed enemy was laying on your chest, crying tears that – thank God – seemed to be tapering off. When he was tugging at his hands to get loose, only to drop them to your chest when he managed. Stroked them over it in a less than comfort seeking way. Fuck…
"Scott." Warning tone this time as he grabbed hold of Scott's wrists again.
"Remy." In an almost conversational tone. "Let go."
"Y' gonna keep doin' dat?"
"Yes." At least he was honest. "You actually mind?" As if he already knew what Remy would say. Rubbed against Remy slightly, sprawled out as he was over him.
Remy's breath caught. "Non."
"Didn't think so." And smirked. Tugged his wrists away again. Shifted up and pressed his lips to Remy's in a solely desperate kiss. Maybe it was still about comfort. Twisted form of it at least.
Remy kissed back.
Clothes pulled back on in silence. No secret little glances, no stolen touches or soft words. Not that anything had been like that since Remy had walked through the doors. Everything either cryptic or tolerating or outright hostile. Fun evening. Too bad a week from now they'd probably all be corpses strewn across the floor if Jean had her way.
He sighed, started almost hesitantly. "Y' said…we ain't strong enough t' stop Jean alone."
Scott only looked at him. Waited for him to continue.
"Maybe we could stop her toget'er."
Scott broke off a snort of laughter. "Good luck convincing Magneto of that." He shook his head and went back to pulling on shoes.
Remy shrugged. Pulled on his trench. "Y' still refusing t' come back wit' me, den?"
Scott didn't bother to look at him this time. "Yes."
"I'll see y' around den." Turned and walked out. There were more important thing to worry about than one X-Man right now. He had to talk to Magneto. Scott was right, convincing him would be near to impossible.
He had to try.
He sighed to himself as Remy left. Sat on the edge of the hard bed. Stared at the floor.
It was all different now. Jean was the enemy and new lengths had to be taken to stop her. No more time for kid games. Even if it meant sleeping with the enemy. Even if it meant getting the enemy to work with you.
Another moment and he was standing. Packed his bags and headed back for the mansion.
He smiled slightly.
Mission accomplished.
end