I wrote this on my day off at about midnight, so forgive me if it is less
than my standards. One shot Colossus romance. I'll give a virtual cookie to
the person who correctly guesses who he's talking about. If you can't guess
,don't worry, it's meant to be hard.
Don't own anything. ""-Talking
**************************************************************************** **************
Metal dome in the middle of nowhere. Magneto off planning his next crazy attack on humanity which does not deserve the gift of evolution. Remy and John were playing a game of poker. Well, Remy was taking the Aussie's money and listening to the pyromaniac swear. Sabretooth..Nobody really cares what he's doing because he's a big hairy meanie. Mastermind was off playing with the minds of the public, toying with what they saw and thought. And Piotr was doing what was always needed, no matter which base they were at for the time being. He was moving boxes. Remy took a drag on his cigarette as he laid down a flush and watched John push the chips forward dejectedly. John reshuffled the deck as Remy blew out the smoke in a quick controlled stream and glanced at the metal-clad Russian. Piotr placed the box he had been carrying and turned toward another. Remy saw no only from behind as the large man lashed out, kicking the crate, the wood shattering upon contact with his boot. The contents of the crate, several steel discs as large as serving platters, rolled outwards and dinged against the steel covered legs. Remy sat up straighter as he noticed the wide shoulders slump forward slightly.
"You ok, homme? You ain't looking too hot."
Those wide shoulders straightened once more and as he pivoted, Piotr lashed out again, this time punching one of the stacked boxes. Tiny steel balls clinked as they hit the stone floor and scattered in a million directions. John looked, finally noticing the erratic movements of his usually stoic teammate. Piotr's voice was laced just as thick with his sadness as his accent.
"You wouldn't understand. Not at all. You haven't a care in this world
except for yourself. You haven't a care.."
He trailed off, turning fully and picking his way through the debris past the card table. Remy and John shared harried looks and rushed after him. Up a narrow set of stairs and down a steely hallway they skidded, Remy catching himself at Piotr's open door but John loosing control and sliding out of view and crashing into the end of the hall. Piotr was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands, muttering in depressed Russian. Remy let him mumble to himself as the Aussie finished collecting himself and stood next to the Cajun. Taking this opportunity, Remy and John looked around the usually private man's room. Paints and supplies littered almost every flat surface. Numerous finished paintings hung on the walls, of a smiling family, of a snowy landscape, and most frequently of a tiny blonde child with sparkling blue eyes and an innocent smile. On the desk they all had been provided with were strewn with folded papers, worn out old letters with faded writing in English and Russian. Near by the bed which he had made into his seat, stood an easel and on the easel sat a half finished painting different from the others. Sketched on the white canvas was the figure of a teenage girl, long hair falling across a laughing face. Portions of the background were painted but the figure itself remained as white as snow, an odd albino figure halloed by color. John whistled, his crazed eyes fixed to the painting as he questioned,
"Who is she, Pi? Can't be your sister, she's too gorgeous. Who is she? What is she to you?"
Piotr looked up, his eyes shifting from fully white to the more humane pale blue. In shock, Pyro caught his breath and Remy stared, holding his. When the Russian spoke, his heart was in his words and it took all of his strength not to cry.
"She is everything to me. I fight here not only for the safety of my
family but for the insurance that Magneto shall not harm her. She
means the world to me and this is the only way I can hold onto her.
Her letters and her paintings and the memories I have of her. The only
things I have except for the love in my heart."
John blinked frantically, trying to grasp the feelings or the concept but receiving neither. Remy took a deep breath and said in a soft voice,
"One of these days, mon ami. Mags is going to realize that he can't
coop us up or hold us captive. That he can't hold you captive. He'll
let us go and be free. We can see the people we love without him
breathing down our necks. It'll get better. Someday."
That John caught onto, and he nodded furiously as a child would. Piotr saw that and chuckled lightly, a pleasant yet rare sound for the small team. He stood, returning the nod.
"Thank you for helping me. We must stick together to survive."
Remy beamed a charming smile at the taller teen and gestured to the painting on the easel.
"We're going to leave you alone with your lady-friend, homme. I want
to see that painting when it's finished."
Without waiting for an answer, he turned, pulling John by his collar down the hall.
"Gambit!"
Turning his head, he saw Piotr half outside his door.
"I'll let you see it. Someday."
Smirking like a demon, Remy unknowingly dragged a protesting John down the stairs by his collar until he realized he still had the teen in his grip.
**************************************************************************** ************** Hope you enjoyed.. Read and Review please!
Don't own anything. ""-Talking
**************************************************************************** **************
Metal dome in the middle of nowhere. Magneto off planning his next crazy attack on humanity which does not deserve the gift of evolution. Remy and John were playing a game of poker. Well, Remy was taking the Aussie's money and listening to the pyromaniac swear. Sabretooth..Nobody really cares what he's doing because he's a big hairy meanie. Mastermind was off playing with the minds of the public, toying with what they saw and thought. And Piotr was doing what was always needed, no matter which base they were at for the time being. He was moving boxes. Remy took a drag on his cigarette as he laid down a flush and watched John push the chips forward dejectedly. John reshuffled the deck as Remy blew out the smoke in a quick controlled stream and glanced at the metal-clad Russian. Piotr placed the box he had been carrying and turned toward another. Remy saw no only from behind as the large man lashed out, kicking the crate, the wood shattering upon contact with his boot. The contents of the crate, several steel discs as large as serving platters, rolled outwards and dinged against the steel covered legs. Remy sat up straighter as he noticed the wide shoulders slump forward slightly.
"You ok, homme? You ain't looking too hot."
Those wide shoulders straightened once more and as he pivoted, Piotr lashed out again, this time punching one of the stacked boxes. Tiny steel balls clinked as they hit the stone floor and scattered in a million directions. John looked, finally noticing the erratic movements of his usually stoic teammate. Piotr's voice was laced just as thick with his sadness as his accent.
"You wouldn't understand. Not at all. You haven't a care in this world
except for yourself. You haven't a care.."
He trailed off, turning fully and picking his way through the debris past the card table. Remy and John shared harried looks and rushed after him. Up a narrow set of stairs and down a steely hallway they skidded, Remy catching himself at Piotr's open door but John loosing control and sliding out of view and crashing into the end of the hall. Piotr was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands, muttering in depressed Russian. Remy let him mumble to himself as the Aussie finished collecting himself and stood next to the Cajun. Taking this opportunity, Remy and John looked around the usually private man's room. Paints and supplies littered almost every flat surface. Numerous finished paintings hung on the walls, of a smiling family, of a snowy landscape, and most frequently of a tiny blonde child with sparkling blue eyes and an innocent smile. On the desk they all had been provided with were strewn with folded papers, worn out old letters with faded writing in English and Russian. Near by the bed which he had made into his seat, stood an easel and on the easel sat a half finished painting different from the others. Sketched on the white canvas was the figure of a teenage girl, long hair falling across a laughing face. Portions of the background were painted but the figure itself remained as white as snow, an odd albino figure halloed by color. John whistled, his crazed eyes fixed to the painting as he questioned,
"Who is she, Pi? Can't be your sister, she's too gorgeous. Who is she? What is she to you?"
Piotr looked up, his eyes shifting from fully white to the more humane pale blue. In shock, Pyro caught his breath and Remy stared, holding his. When the Russian spoke, his heart was in his words and it took all of his strength not to cry.
"She is everything to me. I fight here not only for the safety of my
family but for the insurance that Magneto shall not harm her. She
means the world to me and this is the only way I can hold onto her.
Her letters and her paintings and the memories I have of her. The only
things I have except for the love in my heart."
John blinked frantically, trying to grasp the feelings or the concept but receiving neither. Remy took a deep breath and said in a soft voice,
"One of these days, mon ami. Mags is going to realize that he can't
coop us up or hold us captive. That he can't hold you captive. He'll
let us go and be free. We can see the people we love without him
breathing down our necks. It'll get better. Someday."
That John caught onto, and he nodded furiously as a child would. Piotr saw that and chuckled lightly, a pleasant yet rare sound for the small team. He stood, returning the nod.
"Thank you for helping me. We must stick together to survive."
Remy beamed a charming smile at the taller teen and gestured to the painting on the easel.
"We're going to leave you alone with your lady-friend, homme. I want
to see that painting when it's finished."
Without waiting for an answer, he turned, pulling John by his collar down the hall.
"Gambit!"
Turning his head, he saw Piotr half outside his door.
"I'll let you see it. Someday."
Smirking like a demon, Remy unknowingly dragged a protesting John down the stairs by his collar until he realized he still had the teen in his grip.
**************************************************************************** ************** Hope you enjoyed.. Read and Review please!