Chapter Seven
"I've got you now, boy." Ghost blinked, trying to rid of the sudden dizziness he was feeling. Unlike the theories Hermione wondered about out loud, no one really knew what actually happened with crossed world or dimension travel. He had followed his link with Remy to his mind, finding himself as a mental figure upon the astral plane of the young thief's mind. And just a few yards away stood another figure, glowing as she concentrated. He could see tendrils of energy forcing their way deep in the recess of Remy's brain, anchoring the wavy green woman to her chosen host like a parasite, a tick settling in place upon an animal. I don't think so.
Golden red flames grew in fury at the treatment she was inflicted upon the trembling form, emerald eyes flared with power from the Phoenix as Ghost dove for her, "He's mine!"
She shrieked in pained fury as she was struck with one swipe of sharp talons, interrupting her parasitic process. "Who are you, boy?"
He chuckled, swirling around her rapidly, not allowing her to land a single tendril in his direction, "He's mine. Leave."
She sneered at him, not willing to give up without a fight, "No." She struck out with quite the powerful hit of a telepathic bolt, trying her best to unseat this new intrusion.
Ghost laughed off the hit. She's weak. Through Remy he learned of various mutant powers and levels, especially with telepaths or empaths, but her level was considerably weakened due to one reason, he found her physical body to be dying. That's why she's chosen him. She needs to feed in order to survive. It was rare for a mutant to be a telepathic vampire, needing to feed on the mind of a host in order to thrive in life, much like a fellow Marauder called Malice. He was such a character, a mutant ghost searching for the perfect host in which to control.
But time was of the essence. Even if her physical body was dying and her mental abilities were weak, a cornered animal was dangerous, vicious in its need to defend. Remy had already suffered long enough in the bitter cold. He worried for his friend's safety, as Hermione once said; he had a people saving conflict. With control of Remy's empathy and kinetic ability to control said energy of an object, along with his own magic and fiery power, Ghost rose high on the astral plane, determined, as he readied for one final push. He dove in the perfect version of a Wronksi Feint, but unlike any other time, he refused to pull up as he plowed directly into the green ghost.
She screamed, fought, demanded, pleaded, as he forced her back to her physical body. He created a powerful ward about her mind; no longer would she be able to reach out for another host. Her only salvation, freedom through an Omega level telepath, the only problem, an Omega level telepath would be able to control her or keep her contained should they free her.
He left her screaming and begging as he returned to his friend. He flinched at the cries, sad because of what he had done but slightly mollified with the magic surrounding her broken, dying body. His magic would slowly absorb sunlight or any electrical energy from her surroundings to feed her body, to heal it until she could be found. He was sure someone would find her, after all Sinister had prepared this faux trial in hopes of gaining a thief. Perhaps Malice will like her.
Cold. Tired.
Shh, Remy. I'm here. Sleep. I'll take care of you. He closed his eyes, silently asking for permission as Remy gave in. He waited for a part of Remy's mind to shut down as he cemented his presence. Emerald eyes opened to find himself standing before a slightly run-down mansion with guards hiding about in the shadows, home. It was the home Remy was banished from when only a young man. One more blink had him fighting a blurry white sight until his magic kicked in. Vision cleared to see Antarctica, freezing as the sun began to sink.
Anger grew as he flitted through his friend's memory, watching closely to the faux trial, watching as those Remy called friends and family turned their backs, one by one. His fury feed the rising flames, warming his body as it rushed through his veins, fighting the deep chill that had settled. A murmured, sleepy reply rang quietly through their shared mind, Feels bein.
Sleep. I'll take it from here. Then he tipped his head to one side as something raced through the air, familiar. Oh! Sinister and his group had arrived near the citadel. It wouldn't be long before they found Remy's footprints in the snow or the young woman locked in her own mind, after all, good ole Essex never could resist a challenge. Remy, think of a safe place. I need a clear picture to flee from here before Chat leads them this way.
Images of an elaborate loft appeared. A name soon joined the image, New York, be prepared, Remy. To go to another country will cost me much. We will be unconscious for at least a day before my energy levels rise since my travel here.
Oui, came the sleepy reply before silence. With a loud crack, Ghost vanished, pushing every bit of energy he had into that one trip. He reappeared inside the spacious loft with depleted energy levels. Swaying, he knew he would never reach the bed or the couch but he had to try as falling to the floor would hurt. He stumbled, forcing himself to reach the calling comfort of the plush soft leather couch but fell within ten steps of it, falling deeply into darkness, never feeling their body connecting with the hard floor, never knowing how close they had come from barely missing the antique glass covered coffee table.
Days later at the X-men Mansion
"Sensors have been tripped! Secure the school!" Sitting in a large tree after having leapt over the high wall, Ghost had been surprised to find out his patronus, Prongs, could set off alarms, he was just curious if he really could perform magic within a mutant body. He sighed, not wanting this confrontation to be violent in any way. Home?
I suppose. Best not to make them wait. He vaulted from the tree limb while subconsciously occluding his mind and raising extra shields. He allowed a bit of Remy to fly free, gracely twisting in mid-air to land safely. He swaggered forward as lights flared to life, giving a brighter surrounding as several people rushed from the large mansion. "'Allo, mes amis, no welcome for Remy?"
Remy.
Sorry. Ghost mentally shook his head at the pouting thief as he faced the ready to fight X-men. He eyed each of them, wondering if they all would betray Remy as a few had not been at the trial but elsewhere.
One such fellow gruffly spoke as six metal claws made a threatening appearance, nose twitching as he sniffed deeply, "You ain't Gumbo."
Red on black eyes carefully studied the short stature man, though he was broad around and gave off his own scent of feral. "Oh? Why y' say dat 'bout Remy?"
Someone else interrupted their little tête-à-tête. "What do you want, traitor?"
Ghost raised a brow in the winged mutant's direction, "Remy betray no one."
Half the group sneered as a lovely brunette with a white strip floated forward, shock clearly visible in her murky green eyes, reaching out with a gloved hand, "Remy, sugah?"
Fury tore through Ghost. She had been the first to turn her back, absorbing a bit of Remy's dark secret and running with it in her memory. She led him on a chase to Seattle, the very first place Remy began to lose control, where the theater still remained in crumbled pieces as a horrifying memorial. There she had yelled and screamed, breaking his heart. She broke it further when she left him to die in the cold snow, telling him he was dead to her. "Rogue."
She seemed to ignore the heated anger lingering in his calm tone, unlike the others who heard. She gave a half trembling smile, tears running hotly down her pale cheeks, "Oh, Remy."
For a split second, all Ghost could see was his beautiful Ginny. For a split second, Ginny was smiling with brightness and heated love. For a second, he felt her soft skin skimming over his cheek, running willing fingers over his face. For a second, he was home with his fiery redhead wife, holding her once more in his arms as she gaily laughed at some insane joke.
Then reality hit.
His eyes narrowed in anger and hatred as he now saw the gloved female touching him, daring to think they would give into her teary apology after all she had done. Lips pulled back in a feral grin, a single word flowed past his lips in a dangerously soft whisper, a word he thought he could never use until now when that anger and fury bled freely, "Crucio."
Her green eyes flew wide in shock, lips parting in fierce screams as she rolled to the ground. Under his steady gaze, she writhed and begged, arching with flexibility in unnatural positions, trying desperately to escape the hotly burning pain throughout her body. "Rogue!"
He watched, face blank, as a redheaded, emerald eyed female raced to the brunette's side, trying to soothe her fallen comrade. For a moment, it was as if Lily Potter had returned from the dead but it wasn't possible. Only those of spirit form or the undead could survive such a fate. He said nothing to her shriek, "What did you do?" But she didn't wait for an answer. He knew she was about to do something. As Rogue continued to scream, he caught her eyes, forcing his way through her cracked shields to face the redhead with two flaming swords of telepathic energy.
'Leave her.'
'I won't leave her to suffer!'
'You will.' Both stood over the trembling form of Rogue, shaking with after-effects while her physical body still suffered. He waved a hand, forcing an invisible wave of energy to shove the redhead from her fallen friend. She dug in her heels to keep from moving too far back, falling into a fighting stance before striking out, sending her own bolt of energy towards him.
She suddenly cried out as a fiery wall blocked the bolt from hitting. He allowed his mutant form to spring forth, startling her into dropping the swords from slack hands. 'No. Impossible. She swore to never chose another. She swore to remain the guardian.'
He cared not fore her confusing rambles, simply repeating his statement. 'You will leave.'
Shaken but determined, she struck openly with telepathy and telekinesis, aided by a second person, 'Jean!'
'You brought this upon yourself.' He ignored the Alpha level, possibly Omega level, male telepath. He was just as powerful without needing such mental abilities.
'Help me, Professor. Rogue's mind is cracking under whatever he has done to her!' Ghost reeled slightly beneath their combined efforts until Remy lent him extra power. With Remy's help, he shoved the two telepaths from the woman's mind. He exhaustedly nodded to the fading ghostly Remy still residing in the parasitic woman's memory before pulling away himself.
He returned in time to hear the sudden cry of pain from the woman called Jean and the man she called Professor as well as to release Rogue from her torment. "Whatcha do t' 'em, boy?"
He eyed the trembling Rogue, interested in the results; she can't go insane by Cruciatus. She's already cracked from the amount of people she has absorbed; the ghostly impressions still rule her mind from outside source. Her Professor hasn't even put a dent in her ability to control them long-term.
The short feral sighed heavily, retracting his claws as blue eyes lingered over the lean body of his friend, "Can't fool a feral, boy. I know ya ain't Gumbo but someone in Gumbo."
A slow clapping was followed by deep chuckles that put the entire group, minus Rogue and Ghost, on defense. "Yep. Can't fool a feral. Sure as hell can't fool me. We still missin' ya, boy, Doc and I especially."
Ghost slowly turned with a cheerful smirk, "'Allo, Chat." All eyes stared in suspicion and wary curiosity as he had greeted the arriving tall blonde, Sabertooth, or better known to he and Remy, Chatton or Chat. "What bring y' to dis part of de world, mon ami?" He stood his ground as the blonde moved closer, deeply inhaling their scent, a knowing glint settling within those golden eyes. He knows us well, Remy. Too well, perhaps.