Zombies seem to be the way to go recently in the movies, and even Marvel was getting in on the act - they had fun with Zombies too. This is just my take if you crossed something like Dawn of the Dead or even 28 Weeks Later with X-Men. The focus is around one of my favorites, Gambit. Enjoy... and yes, is just a one-shot. Got ideas from a message board that I frequent, thought of this, and went with it. Enjoy

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men. This is just me having fun. I wished I owned them... probably along with everyone else who writes fanfic with them in it.

Corpse Parade

The old warehouse was in shambles. Explosions had torn through quite a bit of the exterior walls. It was a wonder that the building was still standing. Small fires and pieces of rotten corpses littered the ground throughout the building. Near the back of the warehouse, a man was standing with a metal rod in his hand, leaning on it due to fatigue. He was the reason the warehouse was in the shape it was... including the body limbs scattered all about.

The middle aged man was standing still for some odd reason, considering he was bouncing around like an acrobat just moments before, swinging his staff around with wild abandon and throwing his own personal brand of explosives in all directions. He was stopped, for now, because he had encountered something that he hoped he would never have to.

There was a small twinkle in Gambit's crimson eyes; whether in shock, amusement, or horror - he may never know. He didn't want to spend time thinking about it. The zombie... non!... corpse of his former lover wasn't moving, but her one eye was definitely staring at him; through him. Lifeless. Those vibrant emerald eyes he used to remember so fondly now seemed to be, ironically, dead. The one that remained looked at him and nothing else, it never twitched even as Wolverine stepped up beside him.

Logan grunted. "Well I'll be."

Remy stood there, staring back at Rogue... non, again... the... the thing before him. Looking at her, for a moment, he horribly torn over what he knew had to be done. His hands unconciously tightened on his bo-staff then released slowly. He could feel his sweaty palms from the fight before, damp skin was sticking to the smooth adamantium that the staff was made from.

Logan cocked his head to the side for a moment, then turned and looked at Remy, one eye still on Rogue... or what was left of her anyway. "Can ya handle this Gumbo?"

Getting no response, Wolverine grunted and cleared his throat.

Remy shook his head slightly, as if waking up from a daze. "Quoi? Sorry, was... distracted there for a moment."

The sound of a light chuckle followed his statement. "Don't tell me yer getting all soft on me after these past few years. Ya knew this day would come, sooner or later. Just like all the other corpses on parade, ya gotta put this one down. It's the only way."

Gambit turned his head slightly to inspect Wolverine. The shorter man was looking around, perhaps trying to avoid his gaze, or maybe just admiring the destruction Gambit recently caused. Remy was about to make a smart comment, with his usual carefree bravado... but he'd been finding it harder and harder to do that these past few years. And now in front of what was left of her, he didn't even have the energy to toss on his trademark smirk. Instead he sighed, again shaking his head, and glanced up at Rogue once more.

"Why's she just standin' dere homme?" Gambit was starting to feel slightly uneasy. He hadn't felt uneasy since... forever. He knew any feelings he had for Rogue had been gone for years, of that there was no doubt. He never loved anyone again after her, though honestly it was hard to find anyone to love. The population of earth was barely at 10 of what it once was. The mysterious disease, or plague, or whatever you want to call it, appeared out of nowhere a few years ago and started spreading like wildfire. It turned human, mutant, even other aliens from the galaxy into flesh-eating zombies. The planet was in a sad state. In fact, Cyclops had just tried to bite him about two months ago. That was one bright spot in Remy's current void of a life... getting to blow the head off the 'fearless leader'. He was fearless alright, Cyclops facial expression never changed, even when the throwing spike hit him in the forehead and exploded. THAT brought a smirk to his mouth.

"What are you smilin' about now? Go get her and don't get yourself bitten. You've been doin' this fer too long to let her of all people get to you. Ya took down Storm faster than this." Remy couldn't help but notice the flash of pain behind Logan's eyes as he said that.

"Ya, 'm sorry. Jus' t'inkin' 'bout old times for old times sake, non? Not dat she ain't meant notin' to me for a long time, but dere are still good memories."

Logan sighed, suddenly seeming very worn down and just... tired. "I know kid. Just tryin' to remind ya that no matter what, it's gotta be done."

Remy nodded and set his mouth to a grim line. He reached to his belt to grab some throwing spikes, and removing a couple from his belt, moved them up towards his face for inspection. He'd gone back to spikes for practical reasons. The cards were used mainly for aesthetic purposes, however they were also fun to use. Unfortunately, against the zombies they had been fighting for the last five years, he figured out early on that cards were not very useful. Sure, they were light, he could carry a lot of them, and were easy to throw... but they couldn't really penetrate. When using cards they would generally always explode on impact, but that wouldn't stop a zombie. Burns and missing pieces of their anatomy did nothing to deter them. Slow them down, sure, but not stop them. In order to do that, you had to blow them to pieces. Literally. Remy had been experimenting with his powers for the past few years as well since there wasn't much else to do. He could charge an object - many small ones, a few large ones at a time - and hold the charge in place. Sort of like a remote detonation, and in his mind was the button to make it go 'boom'. That's where the spikes came in handy. He could charge up several of them, stick them in a few zombies, and blow them all to kingdom come at the same time.

The spikes in his hands started to make a light humming noise, glowing a dull fuschia... a sign that they were being charged. He concentrated, building the charge, and setting the fuse.

"Reehhnn..." Rogue raised an arm, the one left that was still fully intact, slowly towards him.

He almost dropped the spikes, he was so startled. He noticed the normally unflappable Logan jump up off the ground a couple inches, then turn and stare at Rogue, mouth agape. "What the..."

"Rehhnnn..." She took an unsteady step towards him. Gambit noticed, humorlessly, that her hand still had a glove on it. Her voice too... it was just... wrong. He remembered her light, lilting southern drawl... but not this. It was too rough around the edges, too deep, too... inhuman. She was also pronouncing his name wrong - a side effect of missing a lip and probably part of her tongue, he mused.

Past memories started rushing over him, but he quickly built a dam in his mind and pushed them away. Not now! He had a job to do! If he was going to break down, it would be in his room, locked away from the world, as it had always been and always should be. He definitely couldn't second guess himself in front of Logan, and definitely not in front of her.

He put his concentration back into setting the fuse, trying to ignore anything he heard. Logan was next to him, muttering... but he wasn't paying any attention.

"Rehhnnnyyy..." She moved her other foot, scraping it along. Most 'zombies' were much, much more agile than this. She seemed almost reluctant to get close. The irony was getting so thick, he could almost choke on it.

He raised an eyebrow and now made a point to examine his long dead former lover. "Lover", he laughed to himself, mirthlessly. Could we ever really call each other that? "Haters" would be more appropriate.

"Rehhnnnyyyyy..." Her rough, scratchy voice was getting louder and clearer. She stopped moving and leaned forward slightly, appearing to be unsteady. He wasn't sure now if her eye was looking at him, or what was in his hand.

It was Logan's turn to raise an eyebrow. He looked at Remy again. "Been sleepin' with the enemy or somethin' Cajun? She seems to remember you well, after all this time." He snickered, his mouth set to a grim line with the corners barely pointing upward.

Gambit laughed lightly, struck a pose, and displayed that cocky grin that had won the heart of many a woman in the past. "What can I say, mon ami?" Slowly, his shoulders slumped and he returned to his normal stance, looking sad, but just for a moment. "Too bad she never got t' know de real Remy LeBeau."

Logan looked at him with a puzzled expression, but didn't ask. Some things were better left unexplained, and to be totally honest, Logan didn't really care. There wasn't time to care, and in this day and age, caring really served no purpose anymore.

"But lucky for dis femme, Remy still love her t' death!"

He put emphasis on the end of his sentence, then let his spikes fly. They hit her, and if the zombie could look surprised, it almost did. A spike was stuck in each shoulder, one in the midsection, and one in the forehead.

"Bang, Roguey..."

A bright, pink and purple explosion occurred in front of Remy and Logan. It was one of the few where Logan had to shield his eyes because the blast was so bright. No sooner than it started, it finished. There was nothing left but the remains of a charred yellow boot.

"... you dead."

Gambit turned and started walking away, Wolverine falling into step behind him. He compacted his bo-staff and put it back in his duster's pocket.

Salt from a single dried up tear would forever go unnoticed on the face of the man known as Gambit.