A/N: I'm trying to stick to canon as much as possible, but in this Remy didn't kill Julian and was never banished from New Orleans. Sorry, it just clashes too much with my plot. This isn't a Remy/OC story. It is a Romy one. Also, there will be swearing. The story title is taken from a Funeral For A Friend song. The chapter title is a My Chemical Romance song

I'm Not Okay

I watched the world as it flew past the window of my train carriage. An impassive expression plastered my face. My hands twiddled with the wallets I'd swiped from a few unsuspecting strangers earlier. People see but never observe. It's far too easy to pickpocket these days. I was too absorbed in my own thoughts to hear the door of the carriage open or the strangers walk in.

"My apologies, petite. It appears you have our wallets. An accident, I'm sure." I glanced up, feeling like a deer trapped in headlights. There were three men standing in front of me in the otherwise unoccupied carriage. The man who had spoken was obviously older than the other two. He had long brown hair tied back in a ponytail and a goatee. He was obviously Cajun and surprisingly, his voice held no anger as he spoke to me.

"I-I'm sorry, mister." I began to stutter a reply. "Here, you can have them back!" I threw the wallets at him, pulling my head on even further to try and hide my face. People never seemed to react well to my face. Where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself! Call me Red. My real name's not important. My birth name belongs to the girl who I no longer am. I'm a runaway. My parents were too embarrassed of what I am to keep me around. I'm a mutant. An electrokinetic, to be more precise. For those of you who don't know, that means I can control electricity. My hair is blonde and my eyes are a dull grey. I'm nothing special.

The man chuckled. "Here" He took some money out of his wallet and handed it to me. I hesitated a moment before accepting it. I quickly counted it. $100 and not a penny less. This could give me a week's food and travel! A grin quickly spread across my face as I started to thank the man profoundly. He shook his head. "Don't worry about it, petite. You just remind me of someone I know who was once in the same position as you. "As he spoke he stared at one of the men with him. This man had shoulder length auburn hair. His eye colour evaded me as he was wearing sunglasses. He was also wearing a long brown trench coat. My eyebrows furrowed as the older man's words rang clear in my head. Had he been like me? A homeless pickpocket? If so, what happened? Doesn't matter, it isn't any of my business.

I spent the rest of the journey with my headphones in. Just because I was homeless didn't mean I hadn't managed to swipe a few things from home first. My iPod was one of them. I'd meant to sell it for money but always struggled to part with it. Music wasn't just a thing; it was part of my soul. I struggled to ever get new music so it was the same rock songs all the time. They got old after a while but they were a welcomed break from the silence and whispers that seemed to surround me. I tapped my fingers across the glass as the song filled my ears. The three men took refuge in my carriage for the rest of the journey.

Finally, the train reached my destination. New York. It was a busy city. I'd been a few times before. Easy to pickpocket people when the streets were packed. They hardly noticed as my fingers grasped their wallets. As silent as a mouse, I slept between the crowds.

As I climbed off the train, I noticed the three men once more. Only one of them was staying, the man with the glasses. The other two appeared to be heading back to somewhere. Just for less than a second, I made contact with the older man who had given me some money. He offered a friendly smile before disappearing back into the depths of the train.

With my head down, I slithered through the crowds of the station. I swiped a few wallets and purses her and there but not enough to get me noticed. I exited the station, not being stopped once when I was slammed into a wall, a hand at my throat. In front of me stood a group of four men and a woman. The woman pointed at me and spoke with an annoying, sickly sweet voice, "That's her, Johnny! That's the street filth who stole my wallet!" Crap! It'd been months since I'd last been caught and I'd never been cornered like this before. I did the first thing that came into my head. The man holding me let go and doubled over as I pulled my knee up to where the sun don't shine. Not the most glamorous of things but it worked.

I ran like my life depended on it. As far as I was concerned, it did. Someone grabbed my hair, yanking me backwards. I tripped over my own feet and hit the floor. On instinct, I focused on the closest form of electricity. In this case, it was a lamp post. I focused on it for a few seconds before concentrating on the person holding my hair. A scream filled my ears as my hair fell loose. I was panting. My abilities always took a lot out of me. The first man, Johnny was back on his feet with two of his friends flanking him. He pulled his fist back, as if he was about to hit me. Something stopped him. A magenta glow whizzed past my ear and landed on the ground besides me. It was a card, the Two of Spades. That was all I could make out before it exploded. I managed to turn away as it happened. Yet, I still couldn't help but whimper as pain shot through my arm. On later inspection, I found out it was a small burn caused by the explosion.

Striding towards us, like a wicked menace, was the man with the sunglasses. In his hand was another card, glowing brightly. "It isn't nice to pick on children." His voice sounded southern yet tinted with a French accent. Another Cajun.

The men seemed to take a hint and scampered off, taking the woman with them. Figures. They're all tough when it comes to hurting kids but when there's someone who can be a threat to them, they run off like cowards. A glowed hand reached down to pull me up. I gratefully accepted it. "You alright, petite?" I just managed to nod, scared my voice would shake if I spoke. He sighed before he spoke again. "Come with me. It's not safe here. Who knows who saw your…abilities."

"H-how can I trust you?" My voice wavered slightly as I spoke.

"Well, I did just save your life." He had a point there. Reluctantly, I followed him as we walked towards…wherever it was we were going. If he turned out to be some creepy paedophile, I could always electrocute him, rob him and bolt. I'd done it before.

I gapped at the building in front of me. It was a hotel. Not just any hotel, it was one of the most luxurious buildings I'd ever seen. I followed my savoir up to the top floor. I didn't really take in my surroundings, it didn't seem important at the time. "Do you have a first aid kit?" I asked the man.

He looked at me, confused for a moment before his eyes landed on my arm. He gestured for me to sit on the bed. The auburn haired Cajun took out a first aid kit from under it. Silently, he took out the things he needed to treat the burn. I would of protested and said I could do it myself but honestly, in the five years I'd been away from him, I'd never once gotten burnt. "Remy"

I looked up at him, startled. "W-what?"

"Remy. It's my name, in case you were wondering. Though, a lot of people call me Gambit. "

"Red" Was the name that I supplied him. I said nothing more. He seemed to accept that.

"If you want to be a thief, you really should be more careful."

"What do you know about being a thief?" I practically spat at him."

He simply chuckled. "We have more in common than it first seems, cheré. You're a mutant. I'm a mutant. You're a pickpocket. I'm a trained thief. You tried to pickpocket Jean-Luc. I tried to pickpocket Jean-Luc." Jean-Luc? Was that the man who gave me that money? I yawned, only just realising how tired I was. "You take the bed. I'll take the coach." I was too tired to disagree. I dragged myself into a laying position and was asleep before my head touched the pillow.