* Author's note: I stopped keeping up with Marvel Comics just after the Age of Apocalypse, so my continuity is way off. Consider this then a strange AU, so I can use my creative license and get to the story I want to tell. The only thing I'm sure of is this is after Gambit has returned from Antarctica. I love the idea of Remy having empathic abilities, so that's been thrown into the blender to see what comes out.

Usual disclaimer. I have no rights to these characters, I make not a dime on this, this is for my own amusement. Some stories just need to be told. Rated M for content and topics. I am way out of practice with my writing so please be gentle with any reviews! *

"I am very sorry, Logan, but once again I must tell you that I do not know where my little brother has vanished off to yet again." Ororo hid her aggravation from her face but Logan could smell her upset mood. Apparently there were still some people that could ruffle the Wind-Rider's serenity, and Remy was one of them.

Warren looked up from his breakfast with his own opinion on the matter. "Who cares? He's probably out either partying or slumming, which for him might mean the same thing. He's worse than a tomcat, we all know that." Warren took a sip from his coffee. "All it means is that he'll come dragging in some time this afternoon to crawl into his own bed. By sunset he'll be back to his usual irritating form."

Logan bit back the low growl. He'd been trying to get the Cajun back into the good graces of his newest adopted family, but the kid wasn't helping his own case lately. Gambit hadn't fallen out during any recent mission, he'd actually been on time for most of the Danger Room exercises, but Logan knew it wasn't enough. There was too much bad blood, too much history, for everything to go back to the way it was. Warren especially had been riding hard on Gambit's case, doing everything he could think of short of just punching the man he considered the source of all his life's anguish. Losing his wings had done more than main his body, it damaged his spirit, and Warren was not about to let up just to make that abundantly clear to the outcast Remy. The feathered wings might've returned, but the heartache was still too fresh for forgiveness to be offered. Logan snorted to himself. Not like that kid would ask for that forgiveness, he blamed himself enough for everyone's pain in life. That young man would carry the world's hurt if it let him, Logan thought to himself, and he wouldn't believe it was enough for what he'd done.

The door to the kitchen opened, and the topic of conversation walked in. Remy looked exhausted from wherever he'd been for the night. Not bothering to talk to anyone sitting around the table and to probably get away from Warren's glare, he picked up his feet and headed further into the mansion. Logan got up and followed, catching the tired Cajun just before he headed up the stairs to the floor his room was on.

"Where were you all night, Gumbo?" The gruff tone belying the older man's concern. Gambit turned around and Logan saw something disturbing. Remy's eyes were practically glazed, his face slack. It was not the usual smirk or frown that usually was on Remy's face.

"Hey, Logan. Just was out, dat's all. Gonna catch some rest, be ready for afternoon Danger Room practices, oui?"

"You look out of it. Are you alright?"

"Oui, just a little tired."

Logan wasn't sure how to ask his next question but it had to come out. "You look, well, you looked drugged." Gambit startled for a moment, then the glazed stare returned. "If you're having a problem, you need to talk to Hank."

That got a little of a rile out of the younger man. "Logan, I ain't done drugs in a long time, an' I don't like dat someone claimin' to be a friend would t'ink I go back to dat foolishness. Now I'm going to bed, gonna forget you asked that, non?"

Logan had to admit, he couldn't smell any tell-tales of drug use, all he could scent from the young man was he'd obviously spent as least part of his night in some woman's bed. That was nothing new so he didn't even bother mentioning it. It was the news that his drinking buddy and teammate had once been involved in drugs that brought on some concern. Logan had known those that couldn't walk away from it for too long before the siren song would lure them back. Still, there was no scent so he couldn't accuse Gambit of anything.

"Yeah, go get some rest. You know Cyke, if he thinks you can't keep up in a Danger Room exercise he ups the pace."

Gambit gave a small laugh. "Ain't dat a truth. I'm just gonna catch dat nap, so I'm all ready for afternoon. Nite Logan." Not bothering to wait for a reply, Remy started up the stairs, leaving Logan curious about what was really bothering the resident Cajun. Usually he was more verbose about night time conquests, at least in Logan's experience of subtly grilling the young man when they'd head out for a night of drinking and shooting pool. Logan decided he'd figure it out later, the boy was obviously exhausted and could use a good run through a shower to top it off.

"Yes, Remy for a time in his life was a drug addict. The Thieves' Guild put an end to that once he was officially a full member of the family." Dr. McCoy looked up from the monitor in front of him. "Now before you jump to conclusions, my friend Logan, as far as I've been able to check him over on the rare occasions I can convince him to come into the Med-Lab, he's not doing that anymore. He only told me about it when Ms. Monroe threatened her little brother with severe bodily harm if he didn't, pardon the expression, come clean about that part of his life."

Logan despised the Med-Lab, it brought to the forefront of his mind too many bad memories. It was, however, the easiest place to talk to Hank without half the mansion overhearing any of the conversation so he'd grabbed his courage in hand and had made his way into the area. He had to know what was up with the young man he was growing to care for more than just as another mutant, a simple teammate. He was well on his way to becoming a good friend, and a good friend did what they could to help each other out of trouble.

"So the Cajun had a habit. Let me guess. Downers, narcotics. He's wired for stereo on his own power, so I'm not thinkin' it was uppers like speed or meth." Logan rolled between his fingers the cigar he was planning on lighting once he was back outside on the grounds. Hank's rule on no smoking in the mansion was annoying but he understood the reasoning. Not everyone in the household had a healing factor to protect them, so him and Remy were often standing on the back porch as they worked on their nicotine needs together.

"You've hit the nail on the head, my Canadian friend. He was smoking heroin and had started the deadly spiral with the needle until his adopted family made it clear he'd be back on the streets if he didn't clean up. So Remy checked himself into a rehabilitation center and came out clean and balanced at the end of his treatment. He's made it clear to both myself and the Professor that he's stayed away from all illicit substances since then. We both believe him, if that's what you are concerned about."

"Balanced? There's nothing in moderation for that boy, how can you call him balanced?"

Turning back to his monitor, Hank started typing as he spoke. "I mean that with his proclivity of risky behavior that is blatantly obvious to anyone he's in contact with for longer than a few minutes, he'd found a working balance that currently is keeping him on an even keel. As much as it bothers the medical community in general and myself in specificity, an addict remains an addict for life, whether they are clean or not. The problem is keeping someone from replacing one addictive substance for another more dangerous one. In our Cajun's case, he smokes too much and gives his best effort to keep up with you when you drink. That urge to fill the void is still there, he's simply turned to more socially acceptable sources for his 'fix'. I do not like it, but I do understand it from a medical standpoint."

Logan quirked an eyebrow. "Considering some of the options out there, Blue, he's better off smoking his cigarettes and having an occasional night of drinkin' with me than him falling back in that death trap. As for risky behavior, we're all in that boat. How many sane and balanced people go slug it out with super-powered beings wearing nothing more than comm-links and spandex? We all get tarred with that brush when it comes to risks."

Hank glanced up from the monitor. "And that is exactly why I rarely ask him to quit, or you for that matter even with your healing factor protecting you. I know those two habits are much better than others he's tried and I do not care to upset the internal balance he currently maintains. He shows up to an exam with shadowy spots in his lungs or liver, then I shall fight that battle with him, but not until then."

"This is news to me." Both Logan and Hank looked up at the entrance into the Med-Lab of a third person. It was Psyclocke, dressed for the Danger Room exercises that were to begin in half an hour. "So he's a junkie. And Xavier lets him stay here, around the younger residents?"

"If you'd been listening since the beginning of the conversation, Betsy, you'd know he's cleaned up, been that way for a while from what I'm understanding from Hank. And since when did you give a damn about Gumbo anyways? You're the one parroting Warren's mouth." Logan usually got along well with the telepath as they both had history together, but it bothered him that she knew some of Remy's struggles. All that the boy needed was Warren to find out some dirty laundry.

Betsy blinked at the gruff tone from Logan. "I won't be running to Warren, if that's what you're afraid of."

"Been peeking where you're not supposed to be?" Logan had not felt an intrusion but her answering the unspoken question added a bit more gruff to his voice.

"No, I could read your face. I'm not completely happy about Gambit being back in the mansion but I'm seeing him put out the effort to fit in so I'm not going to rock the boat against him." She brushed a strand of her lavender hair out of her face. "I'm not too happy either with Warren and the incessant bickering. Gambit made his mistake but I think nearly dying in Antarctica should count for something. We left him behind, and that isn't what X-Men do."

Hank sighed, and turned off the monitor. "We all failed that man. Perhaps we all should give him another chance. After all, being part of this team and family is all about earning another chance."

Logan nodded. "Yeah, this is a place for second chances. I figure if we can all get over ourselves Remy'll settle down and quit stepping out each night. He's after something, I just don't know if he'll find it in some chick's bed."

Psylocke laughed. "If he finds anything, it's a good night's rest without fear of someone here bothering him at three in the morning. He's a physical person, I mean, he's hugged just about all of us when he's in a good mood. When he's down, we all seem to feel it. He's good with words when he wants to be. Are you sure he's not more educated than he lets on? There's intelligence hiding out under his nonchalance and that trademarked smirk."

Hank stood up and pulled a file from it's shelf. "He'll tell us when he's ready to. Until then all we can do is offer support. My current fear is that the animosity from some members of this household will drive him to risky behavior that would lead to a relapse. Internal balance is a difficult thing to maintain with a recovered addict, no matter what the drug of choice was that started the downhill slide. Remy is already unfortunately stuck with an impulsive streak, this could cause him more trouble."

"I'll keep an eye on him, Blue, so he don't notice. He's getting his act together, I don't want him to blow it."

Logan left the Med-Lad, Betsy following along with him. When they passed the door to the Danger Room Betsy set her palm on the lock and waited for the beep that would open the door and let her in. She turned to Logan. "Planning on getting in uniform for today's session?"

Logan shook his head negative. "Nah, I got some thinkin' to do. Something you mentioned got me thinkin' and I want to consider it before I say anything to Kid Creole. Tell Cyke I'm skipping, that'll give him a reason to have a stick up his ass today."

She laughed and headed into the Danger Room. "As if he needs another reason to be a complete prick. I'll let him know. And Logan..."

"Yeah darlin'?"

"If you think of something that'll help Remy, let me know if I can help, alright?"

"Will do Betsy. Now get going, or you'll be the reason for Scott's attitude."