Chapter Four

/ "Non!" Remy clutched his head, pain thundering like wild horses stampeding. The pain seemed to build each day, little by little. As it built his charm grew stronger and erratic. Nothing he tried kept it in check, or the shields Tante had helped to create, they had begun to crumble.

Now here he was a patron of a movie theater. Of course he slipped in unnoticed beneath the cover of shadows and darkness. But twenty minutes into the movie a headache begun. Growing and growing. Even his fingers and arms began to feel extremely hot, temperature rising with each pound in his head.

His finely tuned control fell. Before it had been little things, sparking a candle to flame, causing his deck of cards to glow, even accidentally exploding his cigarette while sitting in his mouth. That one had hurt but instinct said this would be even worse.

Before the fiery explosion, his last sight was the entire room, down to the chairs and items upon the floor, glowing a magenta pink hue, darkening as his head pounded harder. Before the painful darkness, he heard the screams of terror seconds after the ear shattering boom. Before accepting the dark escape the last of his shields fell, allowing a wave of baffling emotions deep within.

Wake up! Now! You must wake up! A familiar voice echoed through his fuzzy mind. Pleading, begging, so earnest. A second voice, seemingly hollow as it hissed, spoke softly, or tried to, "Sleep, my boy. All shall be well. You're safe." He fell back to darkness as cold arms gathered him close, trying not to jar his injuries but he still experienced pain. A whimper escaped just seconds before he relapsed to unconsciousness.

"You are healing nicely. Soon you shall be able to return to your skillful interest."

Remy eyed the blue armored, red eyed genecist. To most the man was called Sinister and to a select few Essex, but to an even fewer once knew him as Doctor Nathaniel Essex. The good doctor gave up everything after his beloved's death to become the cold unfeeling infamous doctor with power and immortality. "And Remy's power?" Remy wasn't sure but he believed since banishment he gathered the third person speaking. 'Probably a defense against others.'

Sinister stared at the heavily bandaged and bruised thief. "I can place an implant in your head. A device to tamper down your alpha and omega level abilities to an easier degree of alpha level. But you must take care, you can reach omega levels if you push too hard or become overwhelmed. I can also rebuild your shields until you are quite strong enough to handle them on your own."

Remy blinked several times, thinking. He didn't grow up on the streets for nothing. He knew an offer when he heard one. This man, this doctor, healed him for no price. 'But that doesn't mean he won't ask later.' "Payment."

Sinister smirked at his statement, not a question. Remy wasn't stupid. "I will require your services until all debts are paid."

"Oui."

"Last job, Gambit." Remy LeBeau had become Gambit in the few years of working as Sinister's pet thief and favorite lab rat. In those short years he had also become deadly accurate with his kinetically charged cards, or any other object he could use as a weapon, as well as a deadly combatant with his bo-staff and flexibility in physical fighting. He was also elusive as a shadow unless dealing with ferals. He had yet to escape their heightened senses. He even had tightly layered shields to protect his mind and secrets from the most powerful telepath, 'but not Sinister,' as well as his empathic charm. Although some part of his charm leaked from the tightly controlled shields, giving him a wild and untamed sex appeal and danger. "Gambit!"

Red on black eyes lazily glanced up from behind dark shades, flickering from the flashing terminal screen of one of many computers Sinister recorded needed data. "Oui, Monsieur?"

"Now that I have your attention. I have a final mission once you gather a team and train them."

Remy knew better. He heard the unheard statement. This team would be his replacement until Sinister could find a way to permanently keep Gambit under his control, especially since Remy had a link to another source of power Sinister wished to control. 'Ghost won't be his again!' "Gambit do dat."

"See that you do."

He returned his attention to the terminal, absently watching the columns of data. A part of his mind ran down the list of possible mercenaries that still owed him favors and be useful to Sinister. He only hoped that it wouldn't cost him his soul.

"Dat be it?"

Sinister eyed him coldly. "Yes."

Instinct said the man was holding back some very important information. He knew his wish was false. He was about to lose his soul. A secret mission, Remy. Even with his shields tightly held in place, he was able to create a tiny door, allowing only Ghost entrance to speak. He made sure there was no way Ghost could reappear, not after what had happened last time. You know he hides something. Why else would this simple mission include our bloodthirsty Chat?

Ruby red eyes narrowed further at him as he seemingly became speechless before quietly asking, "Samples? Dat be it? Gambit's debt paid?"

Sinister knew their verbal contract ended after the last mission. Remy also knew that Sinister knew this mission was dangerous. Both knew that this mission was geared in hopes of damaging the Cajun to keep him dependent upon Sinister. "Yes. As we agreed."

"Bein." I'm always here, Remy. I will always save you.

"How much further, Gambit?"

Remy had buried himself into his alter ego, the newly dubbed Marauder and existing favorite of Sinister. Gambit had become the cold surface when dealing with missions. His way of escaping the deeds he had been forced to complete while working with Sinister and to keep himself safe from betrayal. "Turn left den go straight. We find dem in de main hall."

A rough voice purred darkly, "Ya best not be lyin', Gumbo."

Chat always did purr lovely. Secure in the dark tunnels of the sewers, Remy knew his deep flush would be hidden. But Ghost was right, despite their preferences. "Gambit not lie, Chat." Not too late to turn.

Oh how he wanted to turn about but he couldn't. Too late, mon ami. My freedom.

You've lost faith in me. Ghost sounded betrayed, hurt and lonely.

Non! I do. I trust you. You kept your promises. He was desperate to placate his friend, his only true friend.

But silenced reigned and for a fleeting moment he really thought Ghost left. Even if you desired, I would remain. He was thankful for those words, especially in the next blurred moments. He couldn't remember much but the overloading emotions of fear, pain, and helplessness. When he entered the bloody scene, all he felt was eagerness of bloodshed and feral anger. He vaguely felt the entrance of foreign emotions of another group coming to the Morlocks' aid. He was moving away with the sobbing body of a young girl, handing her off further down a damp tunnel to very few survivors. He kept the passage way safe when Chat came hunting, slashing wildly.

He woke to gentle prodding against his chest. "Awake, my boy?" Eyes fluttered open to see Sinister looming over him.

"De tunnels?"

"Your mission was half successful. Many got away."

"Y' lied to Gambit. Gambit paid his debt."

Sinister heavily sighed, "Very well, boy. You may leave in a few days, though I feel your mission was unsuccessful. I had to stitch the wounds left by Creed."

Remy eyed the man warily, wishing he could leave right then but the pain and inability to fully move kept him at bay. "Oh."

"Our contract was fulfilled. You will leave with complete control." But Sinister eyed him with disappointment, "I should break the terms since the mission wasn't completely successful."/

Sinister had kept his promise. By the week's end, he had been freed. Despite the betrayal, he had enjoyed being the favorite. He had a place to stay, someone who seemed to care, and all the enjoyment he could desire. Now he had nothing. No home. No family. No friends. No warmth. What am I to do?

Remy stumbled as night slowly crept into view. His body shuddered as he met freezing snow. Then slow warmth began to settle in as he fell from his stumble, lying still while trying to capture his breath. Ghost!

Shh, I'm coming.

He quietly sobbed, begging and pleading his friend. Unable to move because of the cold, he could only wait to be saved. He wouldn't last the night. 'I've got you now, boy.'

He didn't recognize the voice, the strange feminine sound as it seemed to swirl through the ragged cracks of his shields. As weak and tired as he was, he couldn't fight the green lady as she slowly appeared in his head, cooing to him while trying to firmly cement her form deep in the recesses of his mind.

'He's mine!' A flare of fiery power spiked through the tiny door, widening it as a familiar presence entered. He mentally screamed as two powers fought and struggled. He passed out from the overload, begging for release. He never felt the heated flare of fire exploded within as the green lady shrieked in pain, never knowing who won as she was viciously flung from her rooted spot, never seeing the fire fiercely tying her inside her own mortal mind, nor hearing the final words, 'I said he was mine.'