I already posted this a bit back.. but i looked at it recently and I didn't like the look of it all squished together.
the characters are of coarse not mine... etc.....
Main characters are Remy and Rogue.
This was meant to be a longer story, but i lost the trail at the end... Hopefully I'll find them again soon.
Chapter One...
Rogue sat in the kitchen finishing off the rest of yesterday's Cajun supper. Spicy, meaty, and yummy, she didn't have to know what he called it or what he put in it, she preferred not to actually, but damn she like his cooking. Remy complained royally whenever his turn to cook came, but he never stuck them with take out or macaroni the way Bobby and Logan often did.
Despite the food, she still couldn't help feeling somewhat pissed off. Remy spent half the afternoon making dinner, slopped a few spoons of it into a Tupperware container and disappeared saying he'd be back for the scheduled morning practice. He did not show up for practice. Xavier, from the observation stage above had everyone wait fifteen minutes and then cancelled the session and secluded himself in his office.
Now an hour later Remy arrived, sans prize Harley, and from the back of a taxi. His entire right side looked scraped and bloody, and he favoured his right leg. He didn't look up at Rogue as he limped passed her, or even offer a sarcastic comment. Xavier appeared at the door on cue and ushered him directly into his private office with Hank in tow.
Rogue staked out the kitchen after that, listening carefully for the tell tale signs of life emerging from Xavier's office. After two full hours of waiting, her patience was rewarded. Rouge threw her finished plate in the sink, and flew towards her query. Remy now looked cleaner then before, the old blood gone, new blood seeping through the bandages at some places. Hank supported him as they walked up to Remy's apartment. Rogue hung back until they had the door opened. "Can I help?" She asked from the end of the hall.
Hank hesitated, but Remy shrugged. "Sure." Hank Helped Remy inside and to the bed situated in the corner of the room. Rogue tried not to stare as she entered, realising with some dismay that she'd never been in Remy's room before, it had always been him coming to her room.
"What c'n ah do?" She asked tentatively.
Hank turned as though surprised to find her still there, but Remy answered in a barely audible voice. "How 'bout a glass of water?"
Rogue nodded as Hank turned to leave. "I have some suitable painkillers down in the lab." He said and left, closing the door behind him.
Rogue found a glass for Remy in his bathroom. He now sat on the bed massaging his knee.
She passed it to him without a word.
"'Tanks." He drank half of it and handed it back to her. "You don' 'av to stay if you don' want to." He offered.
"Ah'll stay." She stood back and regarded his room again. "Ah never thought your room would be so clean."
Remy coughed a small laugh. "What did y' expect?"
She took in the antique lamp and bed frame, a few pencil sketches on the walls, and shelves and shelves of books. "Not this." She walked up closer to one of the sketches. It depicted the face of an older black woman she guessed to be in her sixties, smiling, and looking very motherly. One of the other sketches was of a young girl, about fifteen years old, sitting on a pier, seeming not to be aware of anyone watching her, but she seemed sad. The third sketch Rogue frowned at. In this was drawn a sleeping figure, a slight smile on her lips, and a distinctive mark in her hair. Rogue's first instinct was to get mad, but the way she was drawn made her look beautiful. "Who drew these?"
Remy opened one swollen eye and regarded her carefully. "D'ey're mine."
"I see that, but who drew them?"
"I did, a long time ago." He shifted and cursed. Rogue turned to see him clutching his side in apparent pain, after a few seconds he sighed and relaxed.
"What happened Remy?" She asked softly.
"I'll be fine."
Rogue decided not to press him on it, yet. "The sketches are beautiful." She said instead.
He looked up surprised. "T'ank-you."
"Who are they?"
He pointed at the sketch of the black woman. "Ma Tante Mattie, and de girl is Bella back when were kids."
Rogue nodded, trying not to feel jealous. "When did you do the sketch of me?"
"Few years ago." He said evasively, though he could remember exactly when he drew it and what he thought at the time. They'd just gotten back home after checking out some reports of Marauder activity in LA, nothing came of it and they had the rest of the afternoon free. He came inside after having a game of solitary basketball and there she was. He hadn't really looked at her too closely before then, mainly concentrating on flirting with Jean to drive Scott insane. He stayed in the hall, didn't even enter the room because he didn't want to disturb her, and just stared. After that he went back to his room and dug out the already long unused sketchpad and charcoal. The image came just as easily as it did years ago when his papa first gave him the book.
"How come I've never seen you draw anything?"
"Yours is the last I did."
Hank walked in halting any more questions. Rouge stepped back while he gave Remy a small container of pills.
"Only take one at a time, they aren't your garden variety supermarket painkillers." He looked at Rogue and then looked at Remy. "I'll check in on you later." He said and made a hasty exit.
Remy stared at the pills a while longer before putting them aside.
"What happened?" Rouge turned back to him.
"A warning." He said finally.
Rogue frowned. "One hell of a warning. You look half dead."
"I made a mistake. It wont happen again."
Rogue sat on the edge of the bed. "I've never seen you make a mistake."
"What d'you t'ink happened?"
Rogue leaned closer. "You tell me."
He opened his mouth and Rogue held her breath for the answer. "Come with me next time."
"Is it personal or an X-men thing?"
"X-men thing." He said.
"And you'll give me all the details?"
"Yes." He reached over, took one of the pills from the container and dry swallowed it. "Later."
"Okay." Rogue looked out the window. "Remy?"
"Yeah?"
"If it's an X-men thing, why didn't you have anyone to back you up?"
"I did. I chose not to use it." He looked up at the ceiling, already feeling himself start to drift. Note to self; thank Hank for great painkillers.
"Why not?"
He looked back at Rogue, there seemed to be three of her floating across the room. He tried to concentrate on the one in the middle. "If I asked for help, then someone would have come."
"Of coarse. Thats the point."
"Dat's why I didn'. No one knows I'm an x-men"
"Your with us all the time-"
"Ever seen me in the papers?"
"No."
He fought to keep from slurring his words, or from slipping into whatever peaceful and happy oblivion waited just around the corner. He blinked and it took a conscious effort to open his eyes. "T'dem, I'm a free agent."
"You said this was a warning, what happens next time?"
Remy closed his eyes and didn't reopen them. "Y' use to work wit' Raven, y'know wha' it means." He murmured and then drifted off.
Rogue watched him sleep for a moment and then left to find Hank and get some answers.
As usual he had himself walled up in the Lab. She entered without knocking. "To what can I owe this not so unexpected rendezvous?" He asked cordially perched on the edge of his chair.
Rogue almost growled. "What the hell is going on? How did Remy get hurt?"
Hank sighed. "So far as the professor and I were able to understand from our uncooperative colleague, everything had been fine until a semi-trailer pulled out in front of his intended escape route."
"Why didn't anyone help him?"
"Had we known, we would have, but as far as the Professor knew, the mission was thus far accomplished and Gambit gave no indication that pursuit was eminent."
"What exactly was Gambit doing?"
"Acquiring sensitive information, as he has done numerous times in the past with far more satisfactory conclusions. Rogue, Xavier didn't know gambit was in trouble."
"The worlds greatest telepath should have known something."
Hank walked forward and put a comforting hand on Rouge's shoulder. "Remy could have contacted Xavier at any time."
"Why did he wait so long?"
"Apparently he waited until they finished." Hank informed her grimly.
Rogue stopped breathing for a second. "When did they catch him?"
"Just after two AM as far as I'm aware, Remy wasn't sure, but Xavier remembers cutting contact at two."
"So what happened between two and nine this morning?" Rouge urged.
"Gambit told us they questioned him. By morning they were tired and apparently satisfied with Remy's explanation that he worked alone. They dumped him in a ditch, which he subsequently crawled out of and called a cab."
Rogue felt uneasy. The whole scenario felt off. "What kind of information was he stealing?"
"Liberating is the word we good guy types use." Hank corrected with an attempt at humour. "Medical research in mutant genetics. Fisk enterprises."
"You had him go alone to steal from Kingpin!"
"He's done it before."
Rogue sat down and looked at the floor for a moment. "Who knows about this?"
Hank shrugged.
"Why would Xavier do this? None of the rest of us ever has to go on potentially life threatening secret missions."
"Probably because Remy prefers it that way. He's a thief Rogue. Logan told me once he heard that Gambit could possibly be one of the best thieves in the world. To be that good, I have to assume he enjoys what he does."
Rogue didn't have an answer to that. "You said he was questioned. What did they do?"
Hank looked away from her and towards some unrelated papers on his desk. "Most of the injuries are from the motorcycle, he said he thought he'd be able to skid under the truck like in action movies, but the bike hit a wet patch and went down. The rest of it was pretty much par for the coarse."
Rogue thought about Mystique's par for the course. "How did they question him?"
Hank didn't answer right away and Rogue felt her stomach clench. "He wouldn't say what happened."
"He told me he chose not to contact us." Rogue said uneasily. "What kind of man-"
Hank stopped her before she could say more. "There are a lot of things we don't know about Remy's past."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"It means I c'n handle myself." Remy said from the door.
Both Hank and Rogue turned in guilty surprise. Remy stood in the hall wearing a dark blue terry cloth robe. Slowly he entered the room, obviously still in pain, and sat down in the nearest chair.
"You should be in bed." Rogue blurted the first thing to come into mind.
"I had a truck bring my bike, it's sitting out front. Got some scratches an' stuff, but not'in I can' fix." He watched their reactions. Remy shrugged, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw. He got up and shuffled through some papers on Hanks desk, pulled out a folder from underneath a pile of photocopies and handed it to Rogue. "If you're still serious 'bout comin' wit' me next week, read dis." He tossed it in her lap. Hank looked alarmed, but Rogue opened the folder to take a quick glance. It looked like what Henry talked about earlier, mutant genetic research on the possible trigger factors of different mutant characteristics; what causes physical versus psychic mutations.
"Keep reading." Remy said softly when she was about to close the folder. Rogue passed a few pages, and now she saw the research charts.
"Where could they get this kind of data?" Just reading about the results made her ill, about researchers altering genes in embryos to eliminate and create mutant characteristics, and then disposing of the experiments. "Is Sinister involved?"
Hank hung his head. "We don't know; a third party involved with the research came to us with concerns." He turned to Remy. "You should be in bed." Hank stated the obvious.
Remy shrugged. "I'm OK." He stood up and leaned against the wall in the hope that would keep him more or less alert.
"What exactly happened?"
"It takes time to download d' necessary data, and so I had help from our contact inside. I recognised a blip in d' system as a trace and intervened to take suspicion off her."
"So yah let them do this to yah?"
"I made dem believe I threatened her for d' information."
Rogue walked up to him and looked him in the eye. "Did they hurt you?"
Remy held her gaze for a moment thinking how to answer that question. Did it hurt? Yes. Did it matter? No. "It's over Rogue." He said softly. She turned away from him.
"Then I was right. You planned it all."
"No. I fucked up the download; I almost got myself and the informant killed."
"How about the bike accident?"
"You t'ink I'd do dat to my bike if I had a choice?"
"Did you?" She asked seriously.
"What do you want to hear?"
Hank suddenly realized he was trapped amidst a lovers quarrel. Not good, he didn't want to be seeing this and he didn't want to be hearing it either, but the only way out was between them, and he knew from experience the best thing to do in these situations is just to melt into the surroundings and pretend to be occupied with something else.
Rogue stood up and started pacing. "I want to believe you're the same man I always thought you were."
"And what is that?" Anger flashed in his usually unreadable eyes. "A snake charmer? Those were the words you used aren't they? You've never seemed to appreciate the lies I fed you before."
"At least then I didn't have to worry about you."
"You made it sound like you wanted the truth."
"I did, I do. Remy, I'm just trying to take it all in, and it's an awful lot to get used to."
"No it isn't. I'm still the same man Rogue. The only thing that's different is now you have to accept that I'm a thief, and that the Professor decided to make use of my skills rather then assuming all I'm good for is blowing things up."
"I don't like seeing you hurt."
"And you think I like when you take on a Sentinel single handed?"
"At least I'm invulnerable."
"I've seen you get hurt; you aren't invulnerable. Even if you were it wouldn't change anything." Remy tried to focus on the argument. "No one else knows about what I'm doing, and it will stay that way. As far as anyone's concerned my injuries are from the bike accident."
"No one's going to believe that."
"Yes they will, you think this is the first time I've done this?" Remy closed his eyes as the world spun and everything started to turn fuzzy. He looked for the chair, but the motion of turning his head set things spinning even faster.
Remy's hand sought out the wall and he held it for balance, and to demonstrate to his uncooperative mind that the room did not move.
Rogue flew to his side and gently touched his arm. "I'll help you."
He shook her off. "I'm fine. I don't need or want any help."
She took his arm this time and held on. "Too bad, cause I'm goanna help you whether you like it or not."
He did not speak to her again, but he did not object as she helped him sit down.
Remy closed his eyes and concentrated on quelling the whirlwind inside. He opened his eyes again and stood up using the chair as leverage. "I don't need your help."
Rogue stepped back as Remy slowly walked past her and out of the med lab. Henry watched too.
"I better follow him." She said and flew out. She found him on the stairs, walking slowly, but still walking.
"Why do you have to be so stubborn? There's an elevator on the other side of the hall."
She touched the ground behind him and followed slowly. "Your just going to make it worse." She muttered.
"I need to keep moving." On the main floor he stopped and entered the kitchen. Rogue followed but knew better then to offer to help as he made himself a sandwich.
"You could at least sit down to eat."
He glared at her, but stayed leaning against the counter.
Betsy and Warren entered moments later, and stood a moment staring at Gambit. "Heard there was an accident. Shouldn't you be in the med lab?"
Rogue smirked. Gambit shrugged. "Nothin a few days won't cure." He said and limped back to the fridge.
He pulled out a beer.
"Should you be doing that with the pills Hank gave you?" Rogue asked as he snapped off the top.
"Never said not to."
"He didn't say you should either."
He raised the bottle to her in a mock toast and took a long drink.
"So how'd it happen?" Warren asked.
"Let's just say I should know better by now."
Warren frowned. "You were drinking?"
Remy grinned sardonically. "Like I said..."
Rogue paled. So then that was his plan? The great masterful plan to hide the real reason for his injuries? "This is insane."
"Why am I not surprised?" Warren laughed. Remy took another long swallow from the bottle, Rogue noticed him sway just a little.
She took his arm. "I think you should be resting." She gritted through clenched teeth and forced him to follow. She also took the bottle out of his hands, surprised that it still seemed to be full. she dumped it in the sink.
She led Remy to the elevator. "Is everything you do an act?"
He almost lost his balance, but for the fact that Rogue held a steel grip on his arm, he would have fallen.
"What?"
She dragged him into the elevator. "In the lab you just told me your still the same person."
"I am."
"You didn't drink any beer."
"Rogue, I meant it when I said I don't want your help, Hanks happy pills must have effected me more then I thought."
"You can't take it back."
"I know."
Rogue bit her tongue from saying anything she'd regret. As the door opened she took his arm and helped him to his room.
He lay down as soon as he got to the bed.
"You're exhausted." She commented.
"What else is new?"
"So tell me something, what have you been faking?"
"You mean other then everything? Maybe I'm pretending to be who I really am."
"That doesn't make any sense." Rogue said and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Sure it does?"
Rogue thought for a moment. "Seattle aside, and you can't hold what I said there against me." She looked towards the sketch he drew of her. "I see someone I care about."
"I still don't want your help."
"We'll discuss it tomorrow." Rogue sat back and watched him ignore her for a moment, then quietly left.
"So what's the story with lover bayou?" Betsy asked when Rogue came back down to the kitchen.
"He's sleeping now."
"I asked Hank about the pain killers and alcohol. He didn't seem too pleased."
"Thanks." Rogue sat down at the table and started at the place mat.
"So what really happened?" Betsy prodded.
Rogue shrugged. "Just an accident I guess. He never said."
"Warren thinks he was drinking."
Rogue felt herself slipping. "Maybe. Probably." She wiped a wayward tear away before it could slip down her cheek. "I wish he'd be more careful."
Betsy put a comforting hand on Rogue's shoulder. "But then he wouldn't be Gambit."
"I know. But what if he doesn't care?"
"What do you mean?"
"You've seen him in battle, he takes so many crazy risks, what it he does it because he doesn't care whether he gets hurt or not?"
Betsy thought for a moment, and recalled several sparing sessions they had together. Rogue was right he didn't ever seem too concerned about consequences. "Then I'd have to say that's probably why he's so good at what he does."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes." Betty took a sip of her cola.
"I wish he'd be more careful."
Betty smiled. "But that wouldn't be any fun." She drank the rest of her drink and left Rogue sitting at the table contemplating.
the characters are of coarse not mine... etc.....
Main characters are Remy and Rogue.
This was meant to be a longer story, but i lost the trail at the end... Hopefully I'll find them again soon.
Chapter One...
Rogue sat in the kitchen finishing off the rest of yesterday's Cajun supper. Spicy, meaty, and yummy, she didn't have to know what he called it or what he put in it, she preferred not to actually, but damn she like his cooking. Remy complained royally whenever his turn to cook came, but he never stuck them with take out or macaroni the way Bobby and Logan often did.
Despite the food, she still couldn't help feeling somewhat pissed off. Remy spent half the afternoon making dinner, slopped a few spoons of it into a Tupperware container and disappeared saying he'd be back for the scheduled morning practice. He did not show up for practice. Xavier, from the observation stage above had everyone wait fifteen minutes and then cancelled the session and secluded himself in his office.
Now an hour later Remy arrived, sans prize Harley, and from the back of a taxi. His entire right side looked scraped and bloody, and he favoured his right leg. He didn't look up at Rogue as he limped passed her, or even offer a sarcastic comment. Xavier appeared at the door on cue and ushered him directly into his private office with Hank in tow.
Rogue staked out the kitchen after that, listening carefully for the tell tale signs of life emerging from Xavier's office. After two full hours of waiting, her patience was rewarded. Rouge threw her finished plate in the sink, and flew towards her query. Remy now looked cleaner then before, the old blood gone, new blood seeping through the bandages at some places. Hank supported him as they walked up to Remy's apartment. Rogue hung back until they had the door opened. "Can I help?" She asked from the end of the hall.
Hank hesitated, but Remy shrugged. "Sure." Hank Helped Remy inside and to the bed situated in the corner of the room. Rogue tried not to stare as she entered, realising with some dismay that she'd never been in Remy's room before, it had always been him coming to her room.
"What c'n ah do?" She asked tentatively.
Hank turned as though surprised to find her still there, but Remy answered in a barely audible voice. "How 'bout a glass of water?"
Rogue nodded as Hank turned to leave. "I have some suitable painkillers down in the lab." He said and left, closing the door behind him.
Rogue found a glass for Remy in his bathroom. He now sat on the bed massaging his knee.
She passed it to him without a word.
"'Tanks." He drank half of it and handed it back to her. "You don' 'av to stay if you don' want to." He offered.
"Ah'll stay." She stood back and regarded his room again. "Ah never thought your room would be so clean."
Remy coughed a small laugh. "What did y' expect?"
She took in the antique lamp and bed frame, a few pencil sketches on the walls, and shelves and shelves of books. "Not this." She walked up closer to one of the sketches. It depicted the face of an older black woman she guessed to be in her sixties, smiling, and looking very motherly. One of the other sketches was of a young girl, about fifteen years old, sitting on a pier, seeming not to be aware of anyone watching her, but she seemed sad. The third sketch Rogue frowned at. In this was drawn a sleeping figure, a slight smile on her lips, and a distinctive mark in her hair. Rogue's first instinct was to get mad, but the way she was drawn made her look beautiful. "Who drew these?"
Remy opened one swollen eye and regarded her carefully. "D'ey're mine."
"I see that, but who drew them?"
"I did, a long time ago." He shifted and cursed. Rogue turned to see him clutching his side in apparent pain, after a few seconds he sighed and relaxed.
"What happened Remy?" She asked softly.
"I'll be fine."
Rogue decided not to press him on it, yet. "The sketches are beautiful." She said instead.
He looked up surprised. "T'ank-you."
"Who are they?"
He pointed at the sketch of the black woman. "Ma Tante Mattie, and de girl is Bella back when were kids."
Rogue nodded, trying not to feel jealous. "When did you do the sketch of me?"
"Few years ago." He said evasively, though he could remember exactly when he drew it and what he thought at the time. They'd just gotten back home after checking out some reports of Marauder activity in LA, nothing came of it and they had the rest of the afternoon free. He came inside after having a game of solitary basketball and there she was. He hadn't really looked at her too closely before then, mainly concentrating on flirting with Jean to drive Scott insane. He stayed in the hall, didn't even enter the room because he didn't want to disturb her, and just stared. After that he went back to his room and dug out the already long unused sketchpad and charcoal. The image came just as easily as it did years ago when his papa first gave him the book.
"How come I've never seen you draw anything?"
"Yours is the last I did."
Hank walked in halting any more questions. Rouge stepped back while he gave Remy a small container of pills.
"Only take one at a time, they aren't your garden variety supermarket painkillers." He looked at Rogue and then looked at Remy. "I'll check in on you later." He said and made a hasty exit.
Remy stared at the pills a while longer before putting them aside.
"What happened?" Rouge turned back to him.
"A warning." He said finally.
Rogue frowned. "One hell of a warning. You look half dead."
"I made a mistake. It wont happen again."
Rogue sat on the edge of the bed. "I've never seen you make a mistake."
"What d'you t'ink happened?"
Rogue leaned closer. "You tell me."
He opened his mouth and Rogue held her breath for the answer. "Come with me next time."
"Is it personal or an X-men thing?"
"X-men thing." He said.
"And you'll give me all the details?"
"Yes." He reached over, took one of the pills from the container and dry swallowed it. "Later."
"Okay." Rogue looked out the window. "Remy?"
"Yeah?"
"If it's an X-men thing, why didn't you have anyone to back you up?"
"I did. I chose not to use it." He looked up at the ceiling, already feeling himself start to drift. Note to self; thank Hank for great painkillers.
"Why not?"
He looked back at Rogue, there seemed to be three of her floating across the room. He tried to concentrate on the one in the middle. "If I asked for help, then someone would have come."
"Of coarse. Thats the point."
"Dat's why I didn'. No one knows I'm an x-men"
"Your with us all the time-"
"Ever seen me in the papers?"
"No."
He fought to keep from slurring his words, or from slipping into whatever peaceful and happy oblivion waited just around the corner. He blinked and it took a conscious effort to open his eyes. "T'dem, I'm a free agent."
"You said this was a warning, what happens next time?"
Remy closed his eyes and didn't reopen them. "Y' use to work wit' Raven, y'know wha' it means." He murmured and then drifted off.
Rogue watched him sleep for a moment and then left to find Hank and get some answers.
As usual he had himself walled up in the Lab. She entered without knocking. "To what can I owe this not so unexpected rendezvous?" He asked cordially perched on the edge of his chair.
Rogue almost growled. "What the hell is going on? How did Remy get hurt?"
Hank sighed. "So far as the professor and I were able to understand from our uncooperative colleague, everything had been fine until a semi-trailer pulled out in front of his intended escape route."
"Why didn't anyone help him?"
"Had we known, we would have, but as far as the Professor knew, the mission was thus far accomplished and Gambit gave no indication that pursuit was eminent."
"What exactly was Gambit doing?"
"Acquiring sensitive information, as he has done numerous times in the past with far more satisfactory conclusions. Rogue, Xavier didn't know gambit was in trouble."
"The worlds greatest telepath should have known something."
Hank walked forward and put a comforting hand on Rouge's shoulder. "Remy could have contacted Xavier at any time."
"Why did he wait so long?"
"Apparently he waited until they finished." Hank informed her grimly.
Rogue stopped breathing for a second. "When did they catch him?"
"Just after two AM as far as I'm aware, Remy wasn't sure, but Xavier remembers cutting contact at two."
"So what happened between two and nine this morning?" Rouge urged.
"Gambit told us they questioned him. By morning they were tired and apparently satisfied with Remy's explanation that he worked alone. They dumped him in a ditch, which he subsequently crawled out of and called a cab."
Rogue felt uneasy. The whole scenario felt off. "What kind of information was he stealing?"
"Liberating is the word we good guy types use." Hank corrected with an attempt at humour. "Medical research in mutant genetics. Fisk enterprises."
"You had him go alone to steal from Kingpin!"
"He's done it before."
Rogue sat down and looked at the floor for a moment. "Who knows about this?"
Hank shrugged.
"Why would Xavier do this? None of the rest of us ever has to go on potentially life threatening secret missions."
"Probably because Remy prefers it that way. He's a thief Rogue. Logan told me once he heard that Gambit could possibly be one of the best thieves in the world. To be that good, I have to assume he enjoys what he does."
Rogue didn't have an answer to that. "You said he was questioned. What did they do?"
Hank looked away from her and towards some unrelated papers on his desk. "Most of the injuries are from the motorcycle, he said he thought he'd be able to skid under the truck like in action movies, but the bike hit a wet patch and went down. The rest of it was pretty much par for the coarse."
Rogue thought about Mystique's par for the course. "How did they question him?"
Hank didn't answer right away and Rogue felt her stomach clench. "He wouldn't say what happened."
"He told me he chose not to contact us." Rogue said uneasily. "What kind of man-"
Hank stopped her before she could say more. "There are a lot of things we don't know about Remy's past."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"It means I c'n handle myself." Remy said from the door.
Both Hank and Rogue turned in guilty surprise. Remy stood in the hall wearing a dark blue terry cloth robe. Slowly he entered the room, obviously still in pain, and sat down in the nearest chair.
"You should be in bed." Rogue blurted the first thing to come into mind.
"I had a truck bring my bike, it's sitting out front. Got some scratches an' stuff, but not'in I can' fix." He watched their reactions. Remy shrugged, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw. He got up and shuffled through some papers on Hanks desk, pulled out a folder from underneath a pile of photocopies and handed it to Rogue. "If you're still serious 'bout comin' wit' me next week, read dis." He tossed it in her lap. Hank looked alarmed, but Rogue opened the folder to take a quick glance. It looked like what Henry talked about earlier, mutant genetic research on the possible trigger factors of different mutant characteristics; what causes physical versus psychic mutations.
"Keep reading." Remy said softly when she was about to close the folder. Rogue passed a few pages, and now she saw the research charts.
"Where could they get this kind of data?" Just reading about the results made her ill, about researchers altering genes in embryos to eliminate and create mutant characteristics, and then disposing of the experiments. "Is Sinister involved?"
Hank hung his head. "We don't know; a third party involved with the research came to us with concerns." He turned to Remy. "You should be in bed." Hank stated the obvious.
Remy shrugged. "I'm OK." He stood up and leaned against the wall in the hope that would keep him more or less alert.
"What exactly happened?"
"It takes time to download d' necessary data, and so I had help from our contact inside. I recognised a blip in d' system as a trace and intervened to take suspicion off her."
"So yah let them do this to yah?"
"I made dem believe I threatened her for d' information."
Rogue walked up to him and looked him in the eye. "Did they hurt you?"
Remy held her gaze for a moment thinking how to answer that question. Did it hurt? Yes. Did it matter? No. "It's over Rogue." He said softly. She turned away from him.
"Then I was right. You planned it all."
"No. I fucked up the download; I almost got myself and the informant killed."
"How about the bike accident?"
"You t'ink I'd do dat to my bike if I had a choice?"
"Did you?" She asked seriously.
"What do you want to hear?"
Hank suddenly realized he was trapped amidst a lovers quarrel. Not good, he didn't want to be seeing this and he didn't want to be hearing it either, but the only way out was between them, and he knew from experience the best thing to do in these situations is just to melt into the surroundings and pretend to be occupied with something else.
Rogue stood up and started pacing. "I want to believe you're the same man I always thought you were."
"And what is that?" Anger flashed in his usually unreadable eyes. "A snake charmer? Those were the words you used aren't they? You've never seemed to appreciate the lies I fed you before."
"At least then I didn't have to worry about you."
"You made it sound like you wanted the truth."
"I did, I do. Remy, I'm just trying to take it all in, and it's an awful lot to get used to."
"No it isn't. I'm still the same man Rogue. The only thing that's different is now you have to accept that I'm a thief, and that the Professor decided to make use of my skills rather then assuming all I'm good for is blowing things up."
"I don't like seeing you hurt."
"And you think I like when you take on a Sentinel single handed?"
"At least I'm invulnerable."
"I've seen you get hurt; you aren't invulnerable. Even if you were it wouldn't change anything." Remy tried to focus on the argument. "No one else knows about what I'm doing, and it will stay that way. As far as anyone's concerned my injuries are from the bike accident."
"No one's going to believe that."
"Yes they will, you think this is the first time I've done this?" Remy closed his eyes as the world spun and everything started to turn fuzzy. He looked for the chair, but the motion of turning his head set things spinning even faster.
Remy's hand sought out the wall and he held it for balance, and to demonstrate to his uncooperative mind that the room did not move.
Rogue flew to his side and gently touched his arm. "I'll help you."
He shook her off. "I'm fine. I don't need or want any help."
She took his arm this time and held on. "Too bad, cause I'm goanna help you whether you like it or not."
He did not speak to her again, but he did not object as she helped him sit down.
Remy closed his eyes and concentrated on quelling the whirlwind inside. He opened his eyes again and stood up using the chair as leverage. "I don't need your help."
Rogue stepped back as Remy slowly walked past her and out of the med lab. Henry watched too.
"I better follow him." She said and flew out. She found him on the stairs, walking slowly, but still walking.
"Why do you have to be so stubborn? There's an elevator on the other side of the hall."
She touched the ground behind him and followed slowly. "Your just going to make it worse." She muttered.
"I need to keep moving." On the main floor he stopped and entered the kitchen. Rogue followed but knew better then to offer to help as he made himself a sandwich.
"You could at least sit down to eat."
He glared at her, but stayed leaning against the counter.
Betsy and Warren entered moments later, and stood a moment staring at Gambit. "Heard there was an accident. Shouldn't you be in the med lab?"
Rogue smirked. Gambit shrugged. "Nothin a few days won't cure." He said and limped back to the fridge.
He pulled out a beer.
"Should you be doing that with the pills Hank gave you?" Rogue asked as he snapped off the top.
"Never said not to."
"He didn't say you should either."
He raised the bottle to her in a mock toast and took a long drink.
"So how'd it happen?" Warren asked.
"Let's just say I should know better by now."
Warren frowned. "You were drinking?"
Remy grinned sardonically. "Like I said..."
Rogue paled. So then that was his plan? The great masterful plan to hide the real reason for his injuries? "This is insane."
"Why am I not surprised?" Warren laughed. Remy took another long swallow from the bottle, Rogue noticed him sway just a little.
She took his arm. "I think you should be resting." She gritted through clenched teeth and forced him to follow. She also took the bottle out of his hands, surprised that it still seemed to be full. she dumped it in the sink.
She led Remy to the elevator. "Is everything you do an act?"
He almost lost his balance, but for the fact that Rogue held a steel grip on his arm, he would have fallen.
"What?"
She dragged him into the elevator. "In the lab you just told me your still the same person."
"I am."
"You didn't drink any beer."
"Rogue, I meant it when I said I don't want your help, Hanks happy pills must have effected me more then I thought."
"You can't take it back."
"I know."
Rogue bit her tongue from saying anything she'd regret. As the door opened she took his arm and helped him to his room.
He lay down as soon as he got to the bed.
"You're exhausted." She commented.
"What else is new?"
"So tell me something, what have you been faking?"
"You mean other then everything? Maybe I'm pretending to be who I really am."
"That doesn't make any sense." Rogue said and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Sure it does?"
Rogue thought for a moment. "Seattle aside, and you can't hold what I said there against me." She looked towards the sketch he drew of her. "I see someone I care about."
"I still don't want your help."
"We'll discuss it tomorrow." Rogue sat back and watched him ignore her for a moment, then quietly left.
"So what's the story with lover bayou?" Betsy asked when Rogue came back down to the kitchen.
"He's sleeping now."
"I asked Hank about the pain killers and alcohol. He didn't seem too pleased."
"Thanks." Rogue sat down at the table and started at the place mat.
"So what really happened?" Betsy prodded.
Rogue shrugged. "Just an accident I guess. He never said."
"Warren thinks he was drinking."
Rogue felt herself slipping. "Maybe. Probably." She wiped a wayward tear away before it could slip down her cheek. "I wish he'd be more careful."
Betsy put a comforting hand on Rogue's shoulder. "But then he wouldn't be Gambit."
"I know. But what if he doesn't care?"
"What do you mean?"
"You've seen him in battle, he takes so many crazy risks, what it he does it because he doesn't care whether he gets hurt or not?"
Betsy thought for a moment, and recalled several sparing sessions they had together. Rogue was right he didn't ever seem too concerned about consequences. "Then I'd have to say that's probably why he's so good at what he does."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes." Betty took a sip of her cola.
"I wish he'd be more careful."
Betty smiled. "But that wouldn't be any fun." She drank the rest of her drink and left Rogue sitting at the table contemplating.