Disclaimer: Marvel own Gambit, 'Fugitive Motel' is taken from the excellent
album 'Cast of Thousands' by Elbow. Everything else is mine.
A/N: I've never written a song fic before, but Elbow's 'Fugitive Motel' has inspired me. Basically, after writing Overload, it struck me that poor Remy didn't come out it very well, which hadn't been my intention. This fic is to set that right, as I'm determined to prove he is a hero after all, and show how far the thief would go for his friends...
Fugitive Motel
As, about an hour's speedy drive away, the thief known as Blaze was fighting the idea that her best friend, her tutor and her lover had abandoned her, Gambit dropped his rucksack on the floor of the second American motel he'd checked into in two days and sighed. Somewhere, a dog barked roughly. Remy le Beau longed for sleep, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands and routing through the bag for anything to eat. He had no success, spilling only clothes and Blaze's CD Walkman onto the threadbare carpet. He had no idea what the gadget was doing in his bag, could only presume it was Blaze's indestructible faith that no matter what happened, they would in the end be working together.
She was wrong. Gambit would not sentence his best friend, his apprentice and his lover to death for the privilege of them being together. Let her wake today alone; she was strong enough, even if it meant her hating him. And even if he had second thoughts, it was too late for that now. He probably only had heartbeats...
He didn't know what made him plug the earphones into his ears or press play. Perhaps it was some arcane knowledge that this was the price he was paying, simple things like this he was sacrificing, and for both their sakes. The CD was set on random, again it seemed a dog was barking, the melody rich with poignant guitars, deep drum beat and harmonious strings, male singer's deep voice soulful, and brushed with an accent not unlike the English Blaze's...
"Lost in a lullaby, Side of the road, Melt in a memory, Slide in a solitude..."
He clung to a memory, maybe his last as a free man. An image of a beautiful redheaded girl, asleep besides him, her breath was deep and slow. Blaze was so young, never younger than when she slept, though her dreams often terrified her. A picture in his troubled mind of his fingers brushing the curls away from her warm brow, her skin had felt so soft, so rewarding under his touch. She muttered something softy as his lips brushed her cheek, though he couldn't tell if it was sweet-nothing or curse. She didn't wake as by the moon he rose and dressed silently. He left her. To save both of them, he gave her up. He could only wish there was another way.
"From my room in my fugitive motel, Somewhere in the dust bowl..."
That's what he was now, more than he had ever been, a fugitive waiting for his destiny. He set himself up to fail on this last pathetic escapade, knowing that just by being a mutant he would be treated unjustly. Justice, as Gambit sat in this crummy motel room in the middle of nowhere, could not be further from his mind.
"'I'm tired," I said, 'You always look tired,' she said, 'I'm admired,' I said, 'You always look tired,' she said."
She'd been honest with him, telling him how much it scared her, to be the weapon a crime lord was using against him. The rules of engagement had changed, proficient as both of them were at calculating where they stood, how to stay out of trouble, this Alessandro Jacobi did not play by those same rules. Gambit had to protect her, save them both. He was convinced this was the only way. But it didn't mean it didn't hurt.
"I blow you a kiss, It should reach you tomorrow, Reach you tomorrow..."
He wasn't to know, but Blaze was already well aware of his desertion. Hugging her knees to her as she sat on the bed, dressed only in one of his shirts, she came to the cold conclusion he'd left her to die. The thought was like a bullet though her heart. Without him, Jacobi would find her. Remy had the contacts. Remy had the mind for these types of things. She was just his apprentice, and so alone and so scared she lost all sanity temporarily, trashing her own fugitive motel in terror and frustration. But Gambit knew nothing of this. He was convinced he was saving them both.
"The curtains stay closed, But everyone knows, You hear through the walls in this place. Cigarette holes for every lost soul, To give up the ghost in this place..."
He sat on the windowsill, peeling back the thick, stale, grey lace curtain from the glass. The cars he had been expecting pulled up without any fuss in front of the long, low selection of almost flimsy buildings.
"Give me strength, Give me wings..."
Too late now. Not even wings could save him, though he appreciated the singer's urgency. But this was the only way either he or Blaze would see out the month alive...
"I blow you a kiss, It should reach you tomorrow, Reach you tomorrow, As it flies from the other side of the world. From my room in my fugitive motel, Somewhere in the dust bowl, Somewhere in the dust bowl, It flies from the other side of the world, The other side of the world..."
Other side of their world, Gambit couldn't help but think, as he felt the vile, cold handcuffs slam down on his wrists, trapping his mutant empowered hands. The other fugitives, the other motel's inhabitants, braved the dust and the hot weather to marvel at one less fortunate or less able than themselves. Gambit didn't care to correct them. He'd set himself up, wouldn't be being read his rights if he hadn't orchestrated it. The last place a thief would be expected to ever go to hide, jail. Now, he knew, Blaze would be safe. Jacobi wouldn't bother her if she was alone, would he? Red-on-black eyes on the horizon behind which Blaze was alone, just as the cop put a hand to the mutant's brow to push him into the patrol car, Gambit's heart reached out to his friend. In his heart, he blew her a kiss, and wished her both good luck, and good bye...
A/N: I've never written a song fic before, but Elbow's 'Fugitive Motel' has inspired me. Basically, after writing Overload, it struck me that poor Remy didn't come out it very well, which hadn't been my intention. This fic is to set that right, as I'm determined to prove he is a hero after all, and show how far the thief would go for his friends...
Fugitive Motel
As, about an hour's speedy drive away, the thief known as Blaze was fighting the idea that her best friend, her tutor and her lover had abandoned her, Gambit dropped his rucksack on the floor of the second American motel he'd checked into in two days and sighed. Somewhere, a dog barked roughly. Remy le Beau longed for sleep, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands and routing through the bag for anything to eat. He had no success, spilling only clothes and Blaze's CD Walkman onto the threadbare carpet. He had no idea what the gadget was doing in his bag, could only presume it was Blaze's indestructible faith that no matter what happened, they would in the end be working together.
She was wrong. Gambit would not sentence his best friend, his apprentice and his lover to death for the privilege of them being together. Let her wake today alone; she was strong enough, even if it meant her hating him. And even if he had second thoughts, it was too late for that now. He probably only had heartbeats...
He didn't know what made him plug the earphones into his ears or press play. Perhaps it was some arcane knowledge that this was the price he was paying, simple things like this he was sacrificing, and for both their sakes. The CD was set on random, again it seemed a dog was barking, the melody rich with poignant guitars, deep drum beat and harmonious strings, male singer's deep voice soulful, and brushed with an accent not unlike the English Blaze's...
"Lost in a lullaby, Side of the road, Melt in a memory, Slide in a solitude..."
He clung to a memory, maybe his last as a free man. An image of a beautiful redheaded girl, asleep besides him, her breath was deep and slow. Blaze was so young, never younger than when she slept, though her dreams often terrified her. A picture in his troubled mind of his fingers brushing the curls away from her warm brow, her skin had felt so soft, so rewarding under his touch. She muttered something softy as his lips brushed her cheek, though he couldn't tell if it was sweet-nothing or curse. She didn't wake as by the moon he rose and dressed silently. He left her. To save both of them, he gave her up. He could only wish there was another way.
"From my room in my fugitive motel, Somewhere in the dust bowl..."
That's what he was now, more than he had ever been, a fugitive waiting for his destiny. He set himself up to fail on this last pathetic escapade, knowing that just by being a mutant he would be treated unjustly. Justice, as Gambit sat in this crummy motel room in the middle of nowhere, could not be further from his mind.
"'I'm tired," I said, 'You always look tired,' she said, 'I'm admired,' I said, 'You always look tired,' she said."
She'd been honest with him, telling him how much it scared her, to be the weapon a crime lord was using against him. The rules of engagement had changed, proficient as both of them were at calculating where they stood, how to stay out of trouble, this Alessandro Jacobi did not play by those same rules. Gambit had to protect her, save them both. He was convinced this was the only way. But it didn't mean it didn't hurt.
"I blow you a kiss, It should reach you tomorrow, Reach you tomorrow..."
He wasn't to know, but Blaze was already well aware of his desertion. Hugging her knees to her as she sat on the bed, dressed only in one of his shirts, she came to the cold conclusion he'd left her to die. The thought was like a bullet though her heart. Without him, Jacobi would find her. Remy had the contacts. Remy had the mind for these types of things. She was just his apprentice, and so alone and so scared she lost all sanity temporarily, trashing her own fugitive motel in terror and frustration. But Gambit knew nothing of this. He was convinced he was saving them both.
"The curtains stay closed, But everyone knows, You hear through the walls in this place. Cigarette holes for every lost soul, To give up the ghost in this place..."
He sat on the windowsill, peeling back the thick, stale, grey lace curtain from the glass. The cars he had been expecting pulled up without any fuss in front of the long, low selection of almost flimsy buildings.
"Give me strength, Give me wings..."
Too late now. Not even wings could save him, though he appreciated the singer's urgency. But this was the only way either he or Blaze would see out the month alive...
"I blow you a kiss, It should reach you tomorrow, Reach you tomorrow, As it flies from the other side of the world. From my room in my fugitive motel, Somewhere in the dust bowl, Somewhere in the dust bowl, It flies from the other side of the world, The other side of the world..."
Other side of their world, Gambit couldn't help but think, as he felt the vile, cold handcuffs slam down on his wrists, trapping his mutant empowered hands. The other fugitives, the other motel's inhabitants, braved the dust and the hot weather to marvel at one less fortunate or less able than themselves. Gambit didn't care to correct them. He'd set himself up, wouldn't be being read his rights if he hadn't orchestrated it. The last place a thief would be expected to ever go to hide, jail. Now, he knew, Blaze would be safe. Jacobi wouldn't bother her if she was alone, would he? Red-on-black eyes on the horizon behind which Blaze was alone, just as the cop put a hand to the mutant's brow to push him into the patrol car, Gambit's heart reached out to his friend. In his heart, he blew her a kiss, and wished her both good luck, and good bye...
