[Disclaimer:] I do not own any X-Men characters except for my own which escaped from my mind. Only the plot line is mine. Marvel is responsible for the creation of the rest of the characters. Also, please note that this the first fan fiction that I have ever written. Constructive criticism is welcomed, flames are not. If you don't have anything appropriate to say, keep your thoughts to yourself. Don't make me send Wolverine after you. He would hurt you. Also, note that this is a Gambit/OC fic. If you don't like it, tough. Don't read it. I, myself, am big Rogue/Remy fan but in this story my imagination has taken control. If you feel the need to request something (I don't know what) please feel free to email me. Otherwise, you have been warned.
Prologue: A Light in the Darkness
It was supposed to be a night of celebration. A night to have a good time, to laugh, and reminisce. Sounds of laughter and joy should have filled the air. Friends and family members gathered around enjoying one another's company and making the occasional joke of other family members such as grandpa getting drunk at auntie's wedding. It was supposed to be a happy day. The culmination of years of hard work, sacrifices, and struggles blended together to create the perfect moment: when a child receives their diploma. It was graduation day. A day when parents are proud of their offspring. When siblings put aside their childish rivalries in respect to one of their own. It should have been a happy occasion for the graduate, now ready to face the world head on after years of studying. This pinnacle moment in which they tell the world, "I am an adult, no longer a child." An event which most teenagers dream about – graduation. This was supposed to be a night of celebration, not a night of tragedy.
There was a feeling in the air that night. Perhaps it was the red ring around the full moon. Or the cool breeze that floated in the warm mid-June air. The midnight sky enveloped the glistening stars in its inky black shroud. The music of crickets filled the air, proclaiming to the world "Summer is here." Yet the air seemed a bit thicker than normal. Almost suffocating the people in the small New Jersey town. In the darkness of the midnight hour, a small orange light began to tower over the rooftops. Glowing slightly more than a firefly, this strange occurrence beckoned the townspeople to come outside. Slowly the glowing light grew, though never spreading to nearby houses. Hues changed with the intensity of the light. From golden tones to titian in color until it became more pronounced in shades of red and orange. The stillness of the night was shattered as sirens in their piercing voices called out for attention.
Fire engines as red as ripe apples filled the sleepy street. Small crowds of neighbors huddled together to watch this show-stopping event. Before them lay a humble two story house complete with wrap around porch and a swinging gate engulfed in a forest of flames. Red, yellow, and orange colors flickered and danced in the moonlight, mesmerizing its audience. Sirens were muted out by the roaring of the blaze. Fire encased the entire building, embracing it as a mother does a child. Unwilling to let it go. Efforts to put out the flames proved to be futile. Firefighters frantically unlocked fire hydrants and latched hoses in attempts to vanquish this beast with its natural enemy, water. All attempts were in vain. As water drained in supply, the blaze retaliated with an attack of its own. Flames rose high, straining to reach the sky. Wooden beams fell upon unsuspecting firefighters, daring them to press on in the search for the origin. The smoldering heat made the cool summer night feel hotter than the deepest fires of hell. Yet nothing could be done. The blazing inferno could not be contained, would not be contained. Instead it grew larger, challenging any to stop it.
Before the combustion of wood and air, stood a woman apart from the crowds. Beside her knelt a small boy, gazing on in wonder and awe. A bag of groceries dangled from the woman's hand. As her fingers relaxed, the bag fell from its prison unto the cold hard pavement; shattering whatever contents were in the bag. The seeping mess spread slowly across the street but went unnoticed by the pair. The woman stood still, fearing that her legs would no longer function. A pair of tears traveled down her face leaving twin channels for other tears to follow. She stood there as if she were composed of stone, watching the only home she knew burn to the ground. The little one next to her watched the flames dance before him. He knelt on a solitary knee, unblinking, fearful that if he didn't watch it, it would all disappear. He felt the heat produced warming his face, mouth partially open, gaping at the spectacle in front of him. Neither heard the call of the fire marshal. Neither heard the cries of the crowd as firefighters desperately fled from the entrance of the blaze. Immobilized by their faculties they just watched, and watched, and watched. Next to the boy sat a chocolate labrador retriever, its amber eyes scanning the property for any signs of life. Whining, it turned its head to the boy in hopes of getting some sort of response. It received none. There was nothing but the fire in front of them.
As the firefighters were discussing the situation before them, the dog heard a slight sound. Looking for the source, it stood up and started approaching the wreckage until it was stopped by a hand on its collar. Hearing the sound get louder, the animal began growling aware that the source of the noise slowly came closer. Once feeling the hairs standing up on the animal's back, the boy turned his head looking for the source of the dog's agitation. Scanning the area before him, the boy's eyes landed on the tall juniper bush next to the right side of the burning house. The hedge, like all the other shrubbery, somehow remained unharmed throughout this catastrophe. As he was about to turn his head to the fighters arguing over the next course of action, he saw the branches of the bush moving minutely. Standing up; he edged closer, partly unsure and fearful of what he would find. By now the dog was in a full fledge bark mode, ready to attack and defend the boy if needed. The branches began to move more violently, the footsteps sounding heavier. As the rest of the spectators watched the house burn, the boy continued to watch the bush. Finally, the branches of the bush were spread apart and a girl emerged.
Wearing running shorts and a tank top, she made her way barefoot to the woman in the front. She made her way slowly to the woman, temporarily forgetting of the soot and dried blood covering her. She saw nothing but the woman. Upon reaching the woman, she ran her ash covered hand over her messed up bun, pulling it down. Playing with the elastic band between her fingers, she gracefully raised her head. The women asked her a million questions with one look but never speaking a word. Keeping her eyes downcast, the girl quietly said, "I'm sorry." The woman simply nodded her head and rushed forward to embrace her child. The boy, now out of his daze, came forward wrapping his arms around his sister, holding her tight; afraid that she would disappear in a puff of smoke. The dog smelt the girl's feet then proceeded to bark for joy knowing that its master was all right. But the joy was only short lived as the blaze grew hotter. As the trio walked away into the street, the raising temperature of the fire was too much for the house to bear. In what seemed to be an eternity, the roof of the house caved in with a loud crash. Sparks flew up into the sky like confetti during Mardi Gras.
It was supposed to be a night of celebration. Instead it was a night of tragedy. For there were two people in that house. Only one survived.