ADDICTION

By Nicole Wagner: The Deadly Gambit


Summary: Once Gambit returns from Antarctica, he finds himself alone in the world, and with terrible memories of his past. He soon finds himself addicted to heroin, trying to escape the pain he is in ... only to fall even farther from grace.

Rating: PG-13/R

Content: Drug abuse, mention of rape, mention of prostitution, language, violence

Deicated to the many people I met at Four Winds in New York. They inspired and encouraged me to continue this story, though it brought back harsh memories for many. I also deicate this story to my best buds BJ, Juke Box, Dee, W6C and Espirt. I love you guys! huggles


Remy sat with his back against the wall of an abandoned building. He was dressed in a ratty looking black shirt, and a pair of torn up blue jeans. His shoes were gone, stolen in his sleep sometime ago, and those long auburn locks of hair were oily and so dirty looking. His eyes, those beautiful, yet evil looking red on black eyes looked glazed over, and even slightly puffy from crying over something ... what that something was, Remy couldn't even remember. He was so high on heroin, that he could not even think straight right now. All he could do was look at the bruises and track marks on his forearms, and wonder ... when did his life go so wrong?

Memories flooded Remy's head, memories of people yelling at him, calling him a murderer and a traitor. He could still feel the blows he took to his body when Warren discovered him back at the mansion, trying to claim his personal belongings ... or what was left of them. He walked out of the mansion, with just a duffle bag in hand, and the hateful words of the X-Men in his head as he walked away. The thing that hurt most, was the fact Rogue wouldn't even look at him, or say one word.

Remy's travels took him back to Louisiana. He could have gone to his family for love and support which was much needed ... but Remy didn't want to burden them with all the terrible things he had done in his life. He fell into a deep depression and just wandered the streets for a while, before a few men befriended him. A dry laugh left Remy's lips as he thought about that. They didn't "befriend" him ... they only persuaded him to try heroin. The depression in him had grown so much, that he didn't care anymore about his life. He had no life! Alcohol did nothing for Remy anymore, and the promise of being able to forget and enjoy life again was something he couldn't pass on.

The first few hits of the substance were free, and Remy remembered how he felt ... he felt like he was floating as the warm liquid would hit his veins, like he didn't have a care in the world, and the voices of the X-Men and dead Morlocks just disappeared from his mind. He felt free ... free of his guilt and emotions. It was such a wonderful feeling to be free of all the pain of his life, to be free of the X-Men's hate filled words, and free of the screams or dying Morlocks.

But a few days, later ... more like a few hours after each hit... Remy would come down, and the painful memories of his life would return. He would claw at his head or let out a pained cry as the voices of Rogue and the others entered his head. In tears, he would return to his "friends" and beg for more drugs. By then, the drugs were no longer free, and Remy would have to pay. He no longer was thinking right, and had forgotten about the millions of dollars he had in his bank accounts. Instead, his so called "friends" would let Remy stay with them, if he was willing to work. They talked Remy into stealing from people, but when he was high, it became a disaster, nearly getting him arrested on several occasions. The drug dealers would become angry, and finally decided on a job Remy could do without messing up while he was drugged up ... prostitution.

Remy had a clear enough mind to protest. He could never do such things, even while high on drugs. He tried his best to escape the dealers, but his powers were weakened by his state of mind, and he was easily overpowered. That night, he found himself tied down to a bed and raped by paying customers of the dealers. If he started to fight or struggle, even grab an object to charge, he would be injected with more heroin, until he was so high, he couldn't feel the pain anymore. After it was all over, and Remy came back down from being in such a state, he would be untied and given his clothing back, only to be left feeling disgusted with himself and far weaker than before.

If the X-Men ever found out ... if his family... He couldn't bare to think of it. His dealers said they could find anyone and show them proof of what happened, not only that, they would with hold the drugs he needed to escape his pain and torment. From that point on, Remy's life had hit rock bottom. He cried that night in the room the dealers allowed him to stay in, thinking about how disgusting he must be, now.

For two months, he sold himself on the street corners of New Orleans, sometimes ending up with a bad John and getting hurt very badly, other times getting paid well for his services ... but all the time, he could only feel sickened at himself for even doing such things. Remy didn't care anymore ... he needed the money, no ... he needed the drugs. Each night, he would return to his drug dealers, whom had become his pimps as well, and exchange the money for hits of heroin, or anything that would make him forget the pain he was in.

By the time the second month hit, Remy became even more disgusted with himself, often vomiting at the thoughts of what he had done to some "customers" and his pimps when he had no money for the drugs he had easily become addicted to. He would sit in the bathroom of the bus station, sobbing when no one was there, or throwing up when a flashback hit him. He couldn't take it anymore ... he had to escape.

Remy ran away from his pimps and dealers praying they wouldn't find him again anytime soon. He only had the clothing on his back, his driver's license, and an empty wallet. As he had fallen asleep in some alley, a bum had stolen his shoes, leaving him barefoot, and back to where this sad story began.

He was starting to feeling so cold, and in need ... need of the drugs that took away his pain, that escaped reality, but also cost him more than he ever dreamed. It soon began rain, and Remy remained in the alley, soaked in rain water, and hugging his knees to his chest, trying to convince himself he didn't need the drugs, he didn't need to go back to the pimps and dealers ... but it was all starting to be in vain.

Remy looked in his pocket, there was no money in it, but a needle, still filled with some of the heroin he had become addicted to. He whimpered, wanting to throw the stuff away, but he couldn't, he was lost in the hold it had over him, and before he knew it, he injected himself, trying to get high once more, and like always, he kept telling himself "This is the last hit, and then I'm done... I'm gonna be clean...". But that didn't happen this time. Instead, he found himself foaming at the mouth and whatever was in his stomach came up onto the floor of the alley.

His head started to hurt badly, and his lungs felt like they couldn't move at all... Remy truly felt like he was drowning. Drowning on all the sorrow, self pity, and misery he suffered in his life, which now seemed to be ending shortly. In all of Remy's life, he never dreamed he would have died in some alley, covered in his own vomit and dressed like a bum. With his arm covered in track markings, and his hair oily and so dirty... He wasn't going to die like some home-less man, he was going to die as a druggie. A worthless drug addicit. His eyes began to roll in the back of his head, just as someone had come over to his aid, probably trying to save his worthless life, or steal whatever he had left on him.

Soon, the world fadded out and there was nothing but darkness... an errie darkness that had consumed Remy, and what felt like his very soul. Everything was just so dark, and lonely. Not a single person in sight, nor sound to be heard. Was this Hell? Had he finally passed away and this was his punishment for all he's done wrong, eternal lonliness? But soon, the darkness faded, and a familar seen of New Orleans, the one he kept cherished in his mind, appeared.

The whole world seemed so different, now. Remy's mind had started to change. Many memories, both good and bad, joyous and horrendous, were all shattered. The inside of his mind was no longer an elaborate picture of New Orleans when viewed, but a crayon drawn land, just like a child's drawing. Remy found himself walking about the child-like land, finding himself looking at memories and things he once knew, but could no longer understand. Soon, he himself had change, that from a brooding, depressed man... to that of a helpless innocent child. And then, he awoke... or at least his body did.

One eye opened, and then the other, only for both eyes to shut quickly, due to the fact that the bright light of the room stung. His throat feld so sore and his tongue so very dry, as reality started to consume what was left of Remy LeBeau, as he awoke from a coma that had lasted five months of his screwed up life. Remy's whole body felt like it was tied down, moving seemed to take a lot of energy, energy he didn't have. There were so many wires and tubes going in and out of his body, making Remy give off a pained whimper, and a nurse to run into the hospital room to see him awake.

Doctors were hovering over him, soon after the nurse came into the hospital room. He heard talking, but had trouble understanding what they were saying. His lips trembled, trying so hard to form works that didn't seem to want to come out. Finally, the doctors stopped talking to each other, and one leaned over to Remy, speaking to him slowly, so he could understand each word that came out of his mouth.

"Mister LeBeau... my name is Doctor Levon. You've been asleep for five months. You're at Chairty Hospital in New Orleans..." Doctor Levon spoke to Remy as slow and clear as he could, knowing that the heroin overdose gave him serve brain dammage. "You were hurt very badly, but you are okay, now. We are going to help you as much as possible. We are going to take good care of you and you are going to get better."


It took Remy a long time to get better. He spent a year and a half of his life at Charity Hospital, doing strenuos physcial therapy along with mental treatments as well. His IQ had gone down from 120, all the way down to a 65, because his brain lacked oxygen for so long and the drugs killing off brain cells. He had become extremely childish and naive to the world about him. The dammage was so great, that Remy couldn't even understand he was addicted to anything, which was a bit of a blessing.

He still walked with a slight limp, but now, Remy seemed better, despite being declared "retarted with a first grade education" by the doctors around him. A smile grew on his face, watching a nurse come into his hospital room, and help him pack up his things. He did not have many items of his own. Most of his clothing was donated to the hospital, most from other doctors or the Salvation Army. Ethier way, he did not really care where his clothing came from, they were his now, and he was greatful for such kindness.

The doctors had told him that he was going to be moving to a small town near Baton Rouge to live. Away from the drug dealers, away from the pimps, and away from everyone that could easily hurt him, now. He was being transfered to a halfway house in the area, where he would live and work, probably for the rest of his life. It was much better than Remy being sent to an institution or an asylum, where he could be mistreated and neglected.

The Nurse would smile up at Remy, as a representivtive of the Boarding House walked in and took Remy's bag from the nurse, and looked over at Remy. The representivie of the boarding house was a Nun... Sister Mary Jean. She walked over to Remy, giving him a warm, loving smile... one that seemed motherly. "Hello... you must be Remy. My name is Sister Mary Jean, I help run a place called Clover House. It's a home for people who are just like you. People who are different. You are going to come live with us, now. You'll have your very own room, and I'm sure you'll make alot of nice friends."

The older woman smiled at Remy, gently rubbing his back as the two headed for the door. Remy had a nervous smile, walking down the halls with the woman. He was going to a place with people like himself... why did that sound so familiar? After a short elevator ride, and a walk down a few hallways, Remy was lead outside of the hospital, and to a van. His luggage was placed in the back of the van, and he got in the passanger seat. Sister Mary Jean buckled him in and closed the door. She made her way to the driver's side of the van, and got into her seat. "Don't worry, Remy. You'll like it at Clover house. I promise, things will get much better for you there." and with that said, the van started up, and they left the hospital, and into a new chapter of Remy's life.

End of Chapter 1