(Thank you for reading! Disclaimer: I do not own Gambit a.k.a Remy LeBeau, or Colossus a.k.a Piotr Rasputin, and it also mentions Pein, who comes from Naruto and I don't own him either. Hitan on the other hand, (Gambit's girlfriend) is my friend, and I'm pretty sure she owns all of herself, and I own part of it as well :D so a little background information. Gambit comes from the thieves (tief, or so he calls it) with his father Death a.k.a Jean-Luc LeBeau (who I do not own), his uncle Isaiah (my OC, I do own), two of his fathers friends White Queen a.k.a Emma Frost (do not own) and Walter Sullivan (don't own him either XD), and finally his cousin Roselle (I do own her, another OC). His mother was killed by his father after he found out she had been raping Gambit and locking him in a closet, which will make sense later.)

~Gambit~

The hangover was definately starting to get to me. My head was pulsing as the alcohol made its way out of my system. I seriously should NOT have taken up Pein's offer to get seriously drunk...the boxes in my hands felt heavy as boulders, and my aching arms wanted to just drop them there and then. But they had to make their new home in the closet, or else Hitan would yell at me again. You'd never know the shyest girl here has a voice of a thousand daggers when she's upset. I wonder if it has anything to do with her swordsmanship? Shaking my head, I finally reach the closet, and I open it to reveal a small cramped place full of things no one used anymore. Setting the boxes down, I go in deeper and take each box one by one to set them up top, grumbling curses as I did so. After the last box, I let a sigh of relief, knowing that was the last load for my poor arms. Suddenly it goes dark with a loud bang behind me followed by a small click. I flipped around, unable to see anything I nearly lose my balance and fall into the closed door. Closed door? Why did the door close? Convinced it was one of the pranking kids out to get me for busting their shirt snagging opperation, I bang my fist against the door. "C'mon, let me out!" Nothing. Silence. Frowning I try again.
"I'm serious, let me out..." I couldn't even hear the all so familiar giggling or the running footsteps you often hear at the site of crime. The surrounding darkness began to consume me and I felt my breath shallow. My fist started to hit the door with more urgency. Eyes darting to every corner of the room, I began to hypervenilate. Old feelings of being trapped, unfed, and abused came back. "LET ME OUT!" before I knew it, I was slamming my whole body against the door, but the damned door wouldn't open. The walls began to move, or so it felt like. Desperate, I place my hands flat against the door and let the kinetic energy flow to the door, but I couldn't concentrate long enough for the connection to stay firm and the red outline died. Feeling no more oxygen I begin to gasp for air, falling to the ground to try and spread the small space I had. Every word I yelled came out in a strangled scream, and my eyes began to fill my eyes. People were crowded around me, invisible people were touching me and I couldn't stop them...after what felt like eternity, I felt a snap on the door, and I rolled away from it as the pressure made the door cave in. The gleaming light was like freedom, and still on the ground I jumped out.

"Have you been hurt?" I heard a familiar low strong voice ask. The voice had a Russian accent, and sure enough when I looked up the steel clad man was standing above me.

"N-no...t-the door wouldn't open..." he nodded in understanding.

"I know. I heard something from inside and tried to open it, but the lock was jammed and would not let me in."

"Th-thank you..." he nodded again, then looked at me closely.

"Have you done something new with your hair?"

"Wh...wha...? N-no...why?" he helped me up, and he led me into the bathroom so I could see what he was talking about. At the sight of my hair, I felt myself become unballanced with shock. The front of my hair was papery white, no longer the smokey brown like the rest of my hair. The hair looked old and dying. I looked to Colossus, hoping he would know what had happened, but he shrugged, still staring at my hair with greatest curiousity. I looked back to my hair, and the first thing I hoped for was that it wasn't permanant.