Disclaimer: Wolverine, Gambit and other characters mentioned in this story belong to Marvel Comics. I make no money off this, so please don't sue me.

Author's Notes: This story is an alternate sequel to Mercutio's Painting the Wolverine Red and True Confessions of a Firecracker. This work was authorized and approved by Mercutio, and I highly recommend you read Painting the Wolverine Red first.

This story is old, but somehow I never posted it here.

Conversations in the Dark

by Mako-clb

It would be another hour before the sun broke over the horizon and the cold, crisp air was more than proof that it would be a considerable time before its warmth would touch the earth. Wolverine didn't mind. In fact, he was hoping that the darkness and cold would guarantee that the other residents of the mansion he called home would be tucked in bed, dreaming pleasant dreams and staying out of his business.

The scent his keen nose picked up as he opened the door dashed those hopes immediately. "I ain't in the mood Cajun, so back off before you start."

"No can do, mon ami. You need a good talking to, and it looks like I'm de one dat's gotta do it."

"Ain't nothin' ta talk about."

"Gambit think there is." Without giving Logan a chance to respond, Remy jumped to the heart of the matter. "Jubilee went back to de school, cryin'. Your fault, an' ya know it. So, what you gonna do to make it right?"

"Nothin'. Ain't got nothin' to say to anyone who'd try to manipulate me. Don't need nobody like that for a lover or a friend. Frost oughta be proud. Taught the kid real well."

"Ain't got nothin' to do wit' Frost. Jubilee did what everybody do, what you taught her to do. Grabbed life with both hands and went after what she wanted. You just can't handle dat she wanted you, homme."

For a few moments, there was utter silence. Despite this, and despite the fact that the room was still veiled in darkness, Gambit could sense Wolverine inching closer to him. He may not have Wolverine's enhanced senses, but Remy was an expert thief, and thieves had to be able to work in the dark just as well as they did in the light. A good thief also showed no fear. Remy proved he was one thief who hadn't lost either skill when Logan slid his ragged bone claws along the Cajon's neck and Remy didn't even flinch.

"What I can't handle is someone stickin' their nose where it don't belong."

"So you're scared an' you're tryin' to take it out on me. Guess de big, bad Wolverine ain't used to bein' scared."

"You're treadin' on thin ice. I'd hate for you to slip," Logan retorted in a low, menacing growl, as one bone claw made a thin cut into the flesh of Gambit's neck.

"If I fall, I just get right back up an' try again, 'cause if I don', might be too 'fraid to ever try again. Eh, Logan?" Gambit could feel the blood trickling down his neck, but he paid it and the mild stinging sensation no heed. Logan could threaten all he wanted, but they both knew he wouldn't kill Gambit, not like this, not because of this.

"Tell me somethin'. Viper manipulated you in a big way, but you married her, non? You stay her husband 'til she die? Why? Why you walk out on Jubilee and not her?"

"I owed a debt o' honor. You know that, and you know this ain't the same. The kid betrayed me, tried to use me."

"Now who treadin' on thin ice? I may not know much 'bout honor, but I know you owe Jubilee more den you ever owe Viper. Girl saved your life. She your friend. Most important, she keep you sane. You know better den me how many times Jubilee de only thing kept you from losin' your humanity. You tellin' me you don' owe her nothin' for that.

"I don' think you left 'cause she manipulated you. I think you just scared that if she go through all dis to get you, she must really love you. Dat scare you, homme, 'cause you afraid you hurt her. Maybe you afraid you lose her…" There was a pause as Gambit gathered his courage for the blow he was likely to receive, one equal to the blow he was about to inflict. "Jus' like Mariko."

The claws cut deeper into flesh, fresh blood flowing down Gambit's neck and staining the pale blue pajama top he wore. "You got no right to mention her name."

It was becoming slightly difficult to talk with Wolverine's claws cutting raggedly into his neck, but Remy continued anyway. "I was there when she die, remember? I saw how much it hurt you an' now you 'fraid to get hurt again like dat. Long as it just physical, you don' need to worry 'bout gettin' hurt, but Jubilee want more den dat, and so do you. It got you runnin' scared.

"Now, if you don' mind?" Remy asked in a light tone, gently nudging Wolverine's claws away from his neck. "I got to get cleaned up before mornin'. Don' think Rogue take too kindly to findin' me covered in blood when she wake up."

Though still glaring daggers at the Cajun, Logan slowly withdrew his claws and his body so Remy could stand and leave. Wolverine watched his shadowy form ascend the stairs, just as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the mansion's windows.

A new day was dawning for this part of the world. It was also a new day for the man named Logan, one filled with reflection.

The End . . . at least from me.