Summary: Now that the new Siskans have settled in, it's time for the X-men to decide what to do with them. Part seven of the Game.
Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content.
Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)
Updated 10-27-13 to add (break)s as needed and to repair what's broke.
(One)
"There you go again, Dreamer," you say. " 'Paths, corrections.' That melodrama again. Was it really so bad, seeing these things?"
Tsk. So very typical of one who has never lived through it themselves. Some people think that since I am Siskan and not organically alive, that I am incapable of feeling true human emotions. That simply is not the case. I am not only capable, but being Lushna-esk, I am often overwhelmed by them.
The most difficult emotion for me is love. So often it has been used against me or yanked away from me cruelly. It is hard for me to trust anyone. But sometimes, just sometimes, someone can manage to work their way into my stony little heart. A case in point, some time ago my sister brought home a special prize.
We had been living in the Plantation House for a great many years by then and Babette had been growing steadily restless. She had learned how to sneak out of the house without our Master knowing. I was never so driven to leave the property, I was too afraid that some terrible accident might befall me. But not Babette. She loved to go out and find fresh young human clients to play with.
One night, Babette had gone out clubbing and had met someone special. Somehow, she had even convinced Trishnar to let her bring him up to the house. While she told our Master the visit was for this young man to meet him, I know that she was really bringing him to see me. He was magnificent, that red and black eyed beauty she brought before me. I had seen him, you know, in a vision not three days before she had even spoken about him. The voices had much to say about him - I learned that she would meet him and bring him home to see us, that he would be something special. At first I was cavalier about the whole thing. So what? My sister had loved many human men, what was this one to me?
But when I ever laid eyes on him for myself...Well, there are not words enough to express how lovely he was to me.
I know you think me a romantic idiot, but it wasn't just his good looks. I love those who share the Kundatesh and I could see it there, sparkling so brightly in his shine. Oh yes, it was a good thing I had come here with my Master. If I hadn't, I would have missed out on this little dish.
I thought he would be easy to pursue, this Cajun thief wandering our halls with so much curiosity. He was human, yes, but so much more - a mutant. I had heard of them on the television which, sadly, often gave the impression that mutants were creatures too horrible and evil to behold. Yet this one was so patient and kind, smiling and working his way through my Master's Siskan harem with much style and grace. If he was as bad as the televison had implied, this would not be happening, my Master was much too protective of us to put us in such danger.
No, instead, this lovely stranger was having one heck of good time keeping us Siskans entertained, that was easy to see. He was impressive for a human, keeping up with us better than most, a real treat. The odd thing was, when I presented myself to him time and time again, he was shy of me, uncertain. I had figured he was simply sampling the others first and saving me for last. He must consider me something special indeed, a dessert to be savored after the meal.
I was unfortunately, quite mistaken. He resisted me at every turn, something most perplexing - and yet, at the same time, endearing. The harder he made me work at it, the more I loved him for it.
I could see that he wasn't well. He said he possessed a Siskan he loved greatly, but that Siskan had shattered horribly. He was here seeking advice on what to do with him. While I could see he was telling us the truth, there was more to it than that. His Siskan had touched him in some special way and changed him, gifting him with empathy. That power was now out of balance, this Kundatesh empathy not yet within his grasp.
This I could help him with quite easily and I had already understood that this was why he had been shown to me. In my visions I had seen him and yet when I refused the paths that brought me to him, I was "corrected." That meant only one thing - if I did not help him, some sort of disaster was going to happen.
And so I obeyed, not that that was any real hardship, mind you. When he finally gave in to me he proved to be every bit as delicious as I had anticipated. I helped him and he helped me. I had fallen into a sort of emotional rut, you see, thinking I could never really love again. I loved my Master, yes, but not even he could bring out in me the truly heartfelt devotion I was capable of. This quick tryst with Babette's red eyed lover had awakened a spark of life in me that I had not felt in years. I could bring myself to love someone of the flesh again. It was a good thing, for it wasn't long before my sister brought home another human I would grow to love with all my heart and soul. She brought home an Angel.
(break)
Aiden jerked awake from another terrible nightmare, his chest heaving for air. The dreams had not diminished for him in this new place. They still came to him, now almost every time he slept. He hated this, dreaming the future and trying to work his way through things that might happen. He was tired of being so frightened, tired of being 'corrected' when he made mistakes. It's not like he needed the reminder that he wasn't perfect, he knew it well enough on his own.
Aiden was on Babette's bed as usual, his sister still fast asleep. She was becoming ever dependent on those tonics Henry was feeding her, an increasing concern — but not one for this moment. No, now all that mattered was air.
"Dreamin' again?"
Aiden turned to see Kimble seated on the bed next to him, his pale blue eyes looking on him with such genuine concern and yet, a hint of sadness. The pilot still had not quite recovered from yesterday's unpleasant episode with Fallen.
"Yesz," Aiden replied. "Ze dreamsz, dey never sztop for me."
"They sounds bad. What didja sees?"
Aiden sat up and tried to assemble the raw jagged edges of himself into a picture of casual calm. "Szometimesz bad t'ingsz... szometimesz good."
Kimble's face crinkled into a smile. "An' the good things?"
"Alwaysz ze dreamsz of good, dey are dreamsz of play. Of love."
The pilot laughed at that, a dry snuffly chuckle, one that warmed Aiden's heart and made him forget the dream. He would think on it another time. One thing he had grown to love these past days was the lovely sound of that laugh. He would never get enough of it, never. Aiden rose, careful not to disturb his sister, and sat across from Kimble, desiring his company. He was well received, Kimble automatically gathered the cards and shuffled them before dealing them both a hand at poker.
Aiden sat mesmerized as Kimble's hands skillfully worked the cards. The pilot had years of excellent training at the hands of a master thief and card player. He knew all the games, the tricks. He was taking a moment to show off, flipping the cards about flamboyantly as he shuffled, eager to keep Aiden's attention on him. The Dreamer watched with rapt curiosity, seduced by Kimble's nearness and simply loving watching the pilot in action, the movements of his fingers, the soft tease of a smile on his lips. Kimble was enjoying being watched.
"Five card stud," Kimble announced as the game they would play, finishing his tricks and finally settling down enough to deal them both a hand.
"You will 'ave to explain, pleasze."
Kimble gave the rules, happy now to have some company, especially Aiden's. It was quiet now, late at night, and he had been unable to sleep. There were the guards here of course, Rogue was only a few feet away and watching televison. Max was beside her, reading a newspaper, but his head was already starting to nod. A few minutes more and he would be on one of the beds, out cold asleep and not quite holding up his end. That was okay, the Siskans had given no trouble and he would be within easy reach if Rogue raised the alarm. Kimble had no desire to mingle with them and so had been over here waiting for Aiden to wake. Now that the Dreamer was here to play, Kimble's loneliness had vanished. All that was left was his curiosity.
Aiden looked up from his cards, Kimble was fidgeting. "Szumptin' wrong, preciousz?"
Soft blue eyes glanced up quickly, looked down. "Kin I asks ya sumpthin'?"
"Anyt'ing you want."
"Did Trishnar makes ya?"
Aiden smiled slightly. He had been wondering when it was that Kimble was going to start asking him things. He was beginning to think something was wrong, he had been aching to have this conversation from the first time they had met. As it was, Kimble had taken three days to gather his courage. Perhaps it was their encounter in the testing room the previous day that had emboldened him.
"No, 'e did not. Quishnalay make usz. All of usz, even you," Aiden answered matter of factly and with perfect confidence. He knew this to be the truth.
Kimble shook his head. "No, Sheyman made me."
" 'E may 'ave told you zat, but it isz not true, my friend. All ze Sziszkansz in ze Game come from ze szame plaze. You an' me, we are bro'ders," Aiden declared with an arrogance that only absolute certainty could bring. In his mind clearly there was no doubt.
Kimble frowned, needing a little more. "How do ya knows fer shure?"
"Causze Aiden may 'ave been broken like you, but 'e have all of 'isz memoriesz, me. I t'ink, mebbe, you do not."
"No, I don't 'members everathin'," Kimble conceded and fell silent, pondering.
"Trishnar, 'e tell Remy about Quishnalay being ze Maker of usz when 'e come to szee my Maszter in New Orleansz," Aiden threw out cautiously, watching Kimble's face for any kind of distress. It could be hard, having all of your perceptions of the way things should be so suddenly changed. " 'E did not tell you disz?"
Kimble's frown grew a little deeper. "Remy didn't tells me much about when he gone ta see ya. Said yer Master told him how ta fix me. That wuz pretty much it."
Aiden brushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes, calculating how he should respond. He opted for the truth, something he felt his friend should not have been denied. "Your Maszter an' my Maszter, dey talk a long while. Aiden wasz dere when Remy firszt tell Trishnar about you. I remember ze sztory 'e tell, 'bout when ze two of you danczed in ze ship of your Misztreszz. 'E love dat very much, danzcing wit you."
Kimble couldn't help but smile, remembering that, it was his and Remy's first official meeting. It was shortly after the three X-men - Henry, Wolverine and Gambit - had been kidnapped from Earth and taken to Cerise. There, they met Fallen and her two Siskans. Kimble had been trying to teach Fallen to dance and she wasn't doing very well. Remy had cut in to dance with Kimble and their long friendship had been born. "He toldja abouts that?" Kimble asked in wonder, his eyes merry and filled with love for his former Master.
"Yesz. 'E tell Trishnar disz szo my Maszter would undersztand dat you were special. 'E want szo much to szay to Trishnar dat you not a machine, ze way szome Chuckfet t'ink of usz."
"What's Chuckfet?" Kimble asked, still warm from the happy things Aiden was saying. It pleased Kimble to know that Remy thought such nice things about him, better still that he would say them to someone else. It was a confirmation of Remy's love from an outside source. The fact that Aiden knew such an obscure tale only confirmed that he was not lying and added to his credibility.
Aiden was explaining, "Chuckfet, it isz a Muzla word meaning 'of ze flesh.' It isz 'ow Aiden t'inksz of 'dosze dat are not like usz."
Kimble nodded thoughtfully, not fully aware that the term was a derogatory word and not just a catchphrase. "Why wuz it so important fer Remy ta talk to yer Master like that about me?"
"Causze Remy t'ink Trishnar like 'im - a Maszter dat care about 'isz Sziszkansz."
"Wuz Trishnar nice to ya?"
"Yesz, I szuppoze. 'E did not beat me or szay mean t'ingsz."
"But?" Kimble asked, hearing something in Aiden's voice.
Aiden squinted, not sure how to say what he felt. " 'E didn't szee me asz equal."
"Why would he? He wuz yer Master," Kimble said simply.
Aiden scowled. "And what give 'im ze right to be my Maszter in ze firszt plaze, neh?"
Kimble blinked up at him in confusion, not sure how to respond. He really hadn't thought about things like that. "Oh," he stammered awkwardly, needing to answer in some way. These things were so far from what he had thought was normal. The truth was, if Jael came to claim him, he wouldn't have run like Aiden had. He would have followed like a lamb to the slaughter, he knew it. Aiden was so very different.
Aiden understood this and wanted to explain, to bring Kimble just a little more into his world. He lay his cards down and shifted, getting more comfortable. "Liszten, eh? You an' Aiden, we alive. We don't 'ave ze flesh, but szo fuckin' what? What givesz Remy or Trishnar or anyone elsze ze right to decide anyt'ing for usz? We are not chil'ren. We are men juszt asz much as zey are. Aiden already deczide, Trishnar ze laszt Chuckfet to ever own me. From now on, no one ownsz Aiden but Aiden."
Kimble wasn't sure what to make of that, so he asked, "What wuz Quishnalay like?"
There was moment's pause where Aiden's shine swirled out of his control, a mixture of black hate and a grey swirling of mental agony. Pain, suffering, and betrayal shimmered brightly there before Aiden's powerful will squashed them and banished them away as though they had never been. "Quishnalay make usz all. Den 'e szcatter usz to ze wind juszt for ze amuszement of it. For ze profit."
Kimble shuddered, more from the pain he had seen than Aiden's words. "He wuz a bad Master?"
"All ze Mastersz bad. Not a one of zem any good. Dere will never be ano'der one for me," Aiden declared, a fierce glow of arrogant pride surging there.
"Siskans need Masters to be happy," Kimble insisted, still confused. Here it was again, a breaking of what Kimble understood to be the rules. More and more he was discovering that Aiden operated well out of the bounds of what he had taken for granted. Aiden ran from Jael instead of allowing the ownership to pass. Aiden disliked fleshly creatures, those he was meant to serve. Now Aiden was proclaiming his freedom from slavery. It was all so thrilling and unsettling at once. More than Kimble could handle.
"Non," Aiden replied firmly. "No Masztersz for usz ever again. All we need isz disz." He leaned forward and gave Kimble a kiss, a soft brush of the lips, the faint hint of his tongue, sweet and light enough to tease. It was enough to make Kimble shiver with unfulfilled need, an easy way to change the subject.
"I likes that," Kimble whispered as Aiden withdrew, his eyes locked on those of the Dreamer and seeing nothing else.
A gentle spreading of that arrogant teasing smile. "Aiden knowsz. We will be gone from disz room szoon enough. Zen you will szee what ze Dreamer can do for you, eh? Make you shiver!"
Kimble shuddered with bright hot desire, he just couldn't help it. How could one kiss and a simple phrase make him feel so crazy? It was so exciting and shivery here with Aiden so close, so very near and warm, within easy reach. The attraction between them hung heavy in the air, a living thing with a power all its own. It was an ache in Kimble's gut, he wanted Aiden's hands on him so badly.
Aiden saw it and snickered, backing up and giving Kimble some room to breathe. He was proud of Kimble's response, happy that the pilot seemed so easy to rouse. At least that part of him had not been damaged. He decided to cut Kimble some slack and changed the subject again, "Did Aiden tell you dat Remy love my sziszter Babette much when 'e sztay wit usz?"
Kimble shook his head. "He didn' talk much about that."
"Yesz, 'e szpend moszt of 'isz time wit 'er. She ze one to 'elp 'im moszt wit ze Kundatesh."
"You used that word before. What's that?"
Aiden grumbled a little in complaint. "Didn' Remy tell you anyt'ing? Ze Kundatesh, it'sz disz," he said, closing his eyes and sending out a strong vibration of desire, one that was just as good as that quick grope in the testing room.
Kimble cried out at that, gasping like a late sleeper splashed with ice cold water, and almost toppled off the bed in shock. He didn't know what was more surprising, the strength of the blast or the fact that Aiden didn't have to touch him for it to affect him so badly. He recognized the power of course, how could he not, but it was not what he had expected. He had never felt anything so strong, didn't realize that the power he possessed himself could be used so casually like that. He felt a little wild now, crazy. Aiden's Kundatesh was shimmering through his body like powerful drug, better than any plasma high. It took all of his will not to leap across the bed and lay Aiden down, fuck the living crap out of him. It crossed his face, an open book easy to read, and Aiden smiled up at him, ever so willing to let the pilot do as he wished.
"You boys okay?"
Kimble turned to see Rogue standing a few feet closer than she had been before. She had been watching televison but had caught Kimble's noise.
"We fine, preciousz," Aiden replied smoothly, then grinned at her lecherously. " 'Lessz you wanna come over an' entertain usz wit dat lovely mout' of yoursz. You look asz bored asz usz."
"You keep that shit to yourself!" Rogue snapped, not happy with Aiden's flirtations. He wasn't very subtle and cruder than she was used to. Irritated now, she looked at Kimble without real sympathy, "You okay, Sugah?"
"I'm fine," Kimble said, sitting back up and grabbing sloppily at his cards, sure to cover the physical signs of his arousal. His hands were shaking, but the Kundatesh induced sexual redness in his mind was fading, killed fast by his shame at being caught once again. This was becoming a regular thing, a regular painful one. If he and Aiden didn't find a private place soon to work off this growing, aching wellspring of desire, he was going to bust.
"Good. Then you two had best simmer down," Rogue warned and went back to her chair.
His embarrassment justified by her scolding, Kimble waited until she was far enough away to say, "I knews ya had the power, just didn't have no name fer it. Remy don' calls it that."
Aiden was annoyed at Kimble's reaction to Rogue's words, but let it go. He would work on that and given enough time, he would see that Kimble was never embarrassed by what any Chuckfet might think of him ever again. "What doesz 'e call it zen?"
Kimble shrugged. "I don't know. He calls it love. That we gots a bond, him an' me."
"A Chuckfet might t'ink dat way. Ze power can make zem t'ink dey in love when all it isz, isz an addiction. Zey get hung up on it, zen dey punish usz when we don' give it no more."
"Remy ain't never done that ta me. If anathin' I push m'self on him too much, I guess."
"You don' get uszed much 'ere? No clientsz?"
"Not really. Not like back on Siska. Not like I would wants, I guess. I'm too dangerous. Hurt too many people."
"Ah, but you cannot 'urt me," Aiden replied suggestively. He wanted something with Kimble, something more than a fleeting burst of passion. It was hard to hold himself back, hard to not just blurt out and say, "Hey I dreamed we would fall in love and it was glorious." He didn't want to scare the pilot away before anything happened between them at all. He knew that the future could be changed, that there were no guarantees. Out here in the real world those treacherous paths were not lit to be easily seen. One wrong move and that dream would never be fulfilled. "I am not Chuckfet. Dere isz no pain you can give me. No death."
Kimble scowled softly and his shine swirled with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. Aiden's words were too serious for comfort. He didn't know if Aiden's sentiments were true or not and he didn't want to find out the hard way, he didn't want to see Aiden dead because they got too carried away and fell in love.
Aiden saw he had gone too far even with that baby step of intention and cursed inwardly. It was frightening just how timid Kimble was at the thought of anything lasting, it was so opposite to what Aiden had ever seen in a Siskan. The best he could hope for was that when they lay together, Kimble would be so impressed by his skill, his touch, his sincerity of feeling, that he wouldn't run away so quickly. Aiden shrugged and tried to come off as casual as he said, "Not zat it would ever come to dat, eh? No reaszon for a client to fear from you."
Kimble relaxed a bit at that and his shine eased back into something calmer. Client. It meant that the exchange was nothing more than a temporary sharing of heat and touch, not something to get lost in. Just enough to say, "Hey, it was great," and then you walk away, both happy. Happy and safe. "I ain't never hurt no clients," Kimble said, understanding. "They's all been happy with me."
"But of course zey were," Aiden returned quickly with a smile of pure arrogance and pride. "You are Sziszkan."
Kimble returned the smile, feeding off of that confidence like a drug. It was true that Aiden affected him in a positive way. There was something to be said to being in the company of someone who enjoyed being who and what he sentiment was infectious and it made Kimble quite happy. Happy enough not to notice how the voices in his head were quiet. Not a word had been spoken since that quick grope in the testing room, something significant... if one were to notice.
(break)
Gambit had noticed the differences - maybe not that the voices were silent, but he could see the changes in Kimble and hoped that they were lasting. Kimble was shy around the guards, yet playful around his new brother and sister. Always he was laughing and romping about without a hint of tears or distress. He was walking a little taller, his confidence definitely on the rise. His visits with Angel were not strained, he was light and airy, acting as though he wasn't really locked up at all, just not so free to be with his child as he should. He didn't mope around after she left, missing her, he was always just that much brighter as though she had recharged him somehow. He wasn't fighting anyone or anything in regards to his punishment. He was completely cooperative and compliant, things falling in his favor. Remy could only take this as a good sign and believed if Kimble kept it up, it would only be a matter of time before he was freed.
Remy had his training classes to keep up for the Professor, but he made sure he was always around. He spent a lot of his spare time in the Lab, was taking his turn at guard duty himself, making himself available to all the Siskans if they wanted to talk. He had a feeling it wasn't going to be long before Kimble at least made his way over to chat about what was going on around them - the Game, the anti-mutant terrorist activities taking place outside these walls, and the reasons why Aiden and Babette were here in the first place. He had noticed that Kimble and Aiden were spending more and more time huddled off to one side, whispering to each other and growing wary when a guard might pass by. Whatever they were discussing, they were keeping it to themselves. Later, Kimble might be alone, his eyes distant and dreamy as he mulled over what he had been told. Remy just knew it was a matter of time before Kimble was going to want his perspective on things and he was right.
It wasn't long on the fourth day before Kimble tugged on his coat in gentle invitation and drew him away to the testing room for a little chat. He hopped up on the counter as Aiden had done, waiting until Gambit had drawn near to begin.
"Aiden says you went to see his Master once. Back when I wuz so sick an' all."
"Oui, dat's right."
"How come ya never talks about it?"
Remy shifted, leaning against the counter to get comfortable. He wasn't the least bit nervous, he had actually been expecting this somewhat and had his answer already prepared. "I tried, cher, many times. But when I brought up t'ings about de Game you got upset. Over time, I just let it go. Figured when the time came, we'd talk about it, just like now."
Kimble nodded, but his head was down. His voice was soft as he asked, "Anathin' else ya didn' tells me?"
Remy had anticipated this as well and he wanted his explanation to be completely understood. He came closer and tipped Kimble's chin up to better see his eyes. "Before we go no further, you and me, we gotta 'ave some words 'ere, cher."
Kimble swallowed nervously, unsure what he was seeing in Remy's shine. His friend was trying to seem cross, but all there was in his shine was love. "What?"
"You an me, we been friends a real long time, share a love no one 'ere can ever touch, mon amoureux. Do you trust me?"
"Course I do."
"Den you believe me dat when I say dat whatever I said – or didn' say – I did it outta love and wantin' ta keep you outta dis 'urtin' you seem to want to stay in, d'accorde?"
Kimble smiled at him, softening. "Of course I do. I'm sorry if I made ya mad." He pushed forward, leaning himself into Remy's arms, wanting to be held.
Gambit was eager to comply as always. "Je t'amie, cher. Toujours."
"That means ferever," Kimble mumbled happily against Remy's chest, breathing in his lovely smells. There was nothing as good as this, as being in these arms.
Remy snickered softly, stroking a hand along Kimble's long dangling ponytail. He could feel Kimble's love come at him in a gentle soothing wave of heat. "Dat's right. It's good you wantin' to talk about things, just dat I want you to be sure dat I didn't ever hide nuthin' from you. Didn't want you to have no pain, comprenez?"
"Shure. It's just that with Aiden around, I been havin' all these questions."
"Dat's normal and tres bien, cher. Ask away."
Kimble laughed a little and backed up, comfortably close, but not so intimate. "Tells me what ya knows 'bout Sheyman."
Remy nodded, thinking to himself for a moment as he reached into a pocket for some gum. He put the gum in his mouth, thought on it again and fished in his pocket again, slipping a small morsel of chocolate into Kimble's waiting and eager hand. As he watched Kimble's smile spread wider at the treat, he began to speak.
"Trishnar tell me some t'ings, de Games Master a little more. What I end up wit is dis. Sheyman de son of some rich guy, a man of influence. Sheyman got some experience wit de 'grams, like 'e a trainer or sumptin' like one, but 'e not no more. Sheyman 'as sumptin' wrong wit 'im now, an injury p'etetre, sumptin' dat make 'im closed off. Daddy needed sumptin' to bring 'im out. 'E go to dis guy Quishnalay, a guy who makes de 'grams."
Kimble nodded. "Aiden said sumpthin' 'bouts him. That he made all of us."
"Oui. All de 'grams from de Game. Sheyman's daddy lay de money down, Quishnalay gives him you."
Kimble's head continued to nod, but there was a profound, disappointed sadness seeping into his shine. Things had shifted slightly askew for him, he wasn't sure just what was real anymore, what he could trust in or rely on. Remy reached out again, brushing the pilot's cheek to regain his attention. "Don' be upset, cher. Just cause Sheyman was wrong about makin' you, don' mean 'e was wrong about lovin' you. I wasn't in de files long, but it was long enough fo' me to see dat what 'e feel for you was no lie. Ne jamais, never a lie."
Kimble leaned against him again, a child still in need of that reassurance. He recalled all too fondly himself that brief time of insanity when their two minds had collided unexpectedly. He had been injured, dying, and this courageous thief had come to his rescue, never hesitating or questioning the wisdom of the act. Kimble's body had greedily stolen a generous amount of Remy's bio-kinetic energy, a healing balm, and brought a hijacked Cajun mind with it, changing Remy forever.
Gambit got a crash course in Kimble's jumbled, broken memory files, an Ebenezer Scrooge, "rabbit down the hole in Wonderland" kind of trip through Kimble's life. He had glimpsed some of Kimble's earliest memories, particularly those of his time with his first Master, Sheyman. Sheyman was sick, dying from a mysterious illness and Kimble, a very young 'gram, was doing his best to care for him. They were close, close as lovers, something that forever tainted Kimble's notion of just what a Master was. For Kimble, anything less than total devotion from a Master was a horrible tease, an unsatisfying and nonsymbiotic relationship. It was like being buried alive when you can never die. It was why Kimble couldn't form lasting relationships - he wanted too much, was almost smothering when all he could find were transitory partners so far. No one had wanted Kimble as much as he wanted them to want him back.
"I loved him. I still loves him," Kimble murmured, feeling a painful twinge from inside.
"Je sais, I know, cher. C'est bein, it's de way it's suppose' to be. Dat ain't gotta change." Remy gave him another squeeze. "Dere's more, sumptin' you gotta know."
"What's that?"
"Dis love you 'ave fo' Sheyman. It was a real t'ing, a very important t'ing for you, sumptin' important to who you are. I knew dis from de moment I ever seen de two of you together. I didn't rush to tell you 'bout Quishnalay 'cause I was afraid dat you would t'ink all you 'ad wit Sheyman was a lie when it wasn't. Sheyman loved you wit all 'is 'eart, 'e was just confused in his head, dat's all. Don't go an' hate me fo' keepin' it from you or go hatin' Sheyman. Jus' fo'get Quishnalay anyt'ing to you, 'cause 'e never meant nuthin', d'accorde?"
Kimble sat back and looked up into Remy's bright red eyes. "Aiden says Quishnalay betrayed us all. That 'e wuz a bad man."
Gambit swallowed, unsure how to proceed. He knew next to nothing about the guy. "What Aiden say 'bout 'im?"
Kimble's brow furrowed a bit in confusion. "Jus' that 'e made us an' wuz evil 'cause 'e didn't make us fer love. 'E made us fer money an' then tossed us all away like some kind of kid what don't want his toys no more."
Oh, it was far more than that, Remy knew. Both Trishnar and the Games Master had hinted at acts of extreme cruelty, of attempts by Quishnalay to enhance the Courtesans' potential by melting them, something traumatic and devastating to the poor creatures who received these treatments. Again this was something Remy had withheld from Kimble, no small part being that he had absolutely no proof that it even happened at all. It just seemed so plausible, Kimble and Aiden were unlike any other 'grams he had met. Both had been melted, supposedly more than once. Both so shattered and strong and fragile all at once. Gambit was fiercely loyal and protective of them both, enough that he wasn't sure just how much he wanted to share with Kimble now. Did it any of it really matter if it was something he couldn't prove?
"Was dat all Aiden tell you about 'im?"
"Yeah, but..."
"What, cher?"
"His shine was full of pain. I thinks maybe... maybe Aiden loved him and got stomped on."
"De way you was afraid mebbe Sheyman stomp on you?"
Kimble shuddered and a tear slipped out of one eye. "I thinks maybe I don' see so good. That I only sees what I wants to, not what's really there."
Remy touched him again, sending a forceful vibration of loving concern. "You see jus' fine, cher. Sheyman love you de same way I love you."
"If that wuz true, then you woulda stayed with me," Kimble couldn't help himself but say.
"I'm right here, every day. If I was Quishnalay, I'd be dust. You know I'm always gonna be 'ere — even if you find y'self someone else to take ya outta dis pain you in."
Kimble blinked up at him, both eyes wet now. "You promise?"
"Humrph. Gambit gonna be insulted you gotta ask a question like dat."
"Don' wants ya anawheres else 'cept close to me. I don' thinks I kin makes out here on m'own. I ain't strong, not likes Aiden is."
"Aiden ain't so strong as 'e show," Gambit was quick to say, not wanting Kimble to be so swayed by Aiden's outside composure of calm. Remy had seen the aftermath of one of Aiden's nightmares. It hadn't been pretty, the kid had been crying, trembling and lost, calmed only by the open arms of his Master.
Kimble didn't believe, from what he had seen, Aiden was much too steady to be anything but well put together. "Yes he is. He gots the power real strong. This Kundatesh stuff."
"Dat's right, 'e does. Kundatesh de formal name for de charm power, de empathy you gave me."
"You don't ever use that word."
Remy shrugged. "Seem like such a big word, eh? Guess 'cause dere wasn't anyone around to correct me. Again, I tried to talk to you about de power but you get funny. Like you don't want to know about de t'ings dat make you different from us."
"I don't feel so much like that now."
"Oui, I know. And it's a good t'ing. Dere's a lot you can learn from Aiden, I seen you boys talkin'. Just you gotta be careful some. Aiden's power real strong, oui, but it don't mean dat 'e's strong on de inside, too. Aiden's 'ad 'is share of troubles and it make 'im angry. 'E don' like 'is clients much, Gambit don't want you to feel dat way, too, from talkin' to 'im. It's ugly."
Kimble nodded thoughtfully. "He hates people sometimes though he don't ever say why."
" 'E tell you 'e was melted, right?"
"Yeah."
"Dere's only one way a Siskan get dat way. Negligence or cruelty."
Kimble shuddered in pain and Gambit couldn't help but grin at the irony. Just yesterday Aiden was sympathetic to Kimble, now he was seeing the same sentiment go the opposite way. Clearly these two were going to be more than friends. He approved but was at the same time cautious, knowing that Aiden wasn't as well put together as he might seem. Two damaged people didn't always meld peacefully. He should know, his prior relationship with Rogue had been a shining example of disaster.
"He dreams at night," Kimble confessed softly. "Wakes up all tremblin'. He don' ever say what he sees, just that he seems scared all the time."
Remy nodded, happy that Kimble had brought up a subject he had been wanting to get to himself. In spite of Babette's mentioning that Aiden was dreaming less than he had at the palace, the nightmares were happening far more frequently than he would have liked. "P'etetre, you should get the boy talkin'. You know as well as I do dat it all feels better when you talk it out."
Kimble nodded in agreement. "I thinks Henry's been helpin' him, too. I seen them talkin' once after Aiden wuz dreamin'. Seen Henry give Aiden a notebook. He's been writin' in it, but he don't tell me what's in it."
Remy had seen this, too. The Lab was much too small for him to miss Aiden scribbling away when it was quiet. Gambit hadn't known where the notebook had come from but it wasn't hard to guess. Henry had long been a believer in unloading inner feelings and was forever handing out these books to anyone he thought might benefit from it. Remy himself had two or three just laying around, started halfheartedly and then forgotten. Maybe Aiden would get more out of it than he had, prompting Remy to wonder what was being written. He wasn't crass enough to peek, he respected the privacy of others too much. "It's good he write, 'Enry a wise man. But it ain't no substitute for a good friend, comprenez? Make sure you stay close to 'im, neh? Look after 'im."
Kimble laughed, amused at the suggestion. The two of them had been mostly inseparable. Funny that anyone would prompt him to be any closer. "I'll try."
"Bien," Remy replied and kissed him, slipping him another piece of chocolate. "You be good now, cher. Soon enough, dey gonna be talkin' 'bout gettin' you out of 'ere. You been doin' real fine, keep it dat way, neh?"
" 'Kay," Kimble said, warming under the caress and chocolate. "I wants ta be with m' Angel again."
"You will be. Now, c'mon. Let's see if we can't beat dat rascal Aiden at cards."