Disclaimer: See chapter one.

AN: Sorry for the delay. Life threw me yet another curveball. It's a complicated tale of a long term relatiosnhip ending and two people growing up and perhaps without each other. I won't bore you with the details. Enjoy!

Chapter 10

"The measure of a man's real character is what he would do if he knew he never would be found out." -Thomas Babington Macaulay

Gambit is sitting on the spare chair of the room, the stark white walls uncomfortably bright to his sensitive eyes. His trench coat is hanging over the back of his chair, his gloves are on the ground and he doesn't quite remember where he put his bo-staff. But he doesn't care. He just stares at the young woman lying soundlessly in the hospital bed.

He watches her chest rise and then flutters back down. He doesn't know how long he had been there, but he feels the awareness that sun has risen and the mansion is slowly coming fully awake. At least the younger students shuffle above, those left for the holiday break which is not many; those remaining do not have families to go home to. The X-Men core members though have been up since the night prior.

He can feel someone behind him; their eyes catch his back and don't let go. Looking over his shoulder tiredly, he sees Kurt's blue form hobble into the med lab, his bed skirt replaced with loose cargos and a simple white shirt. Hank is in the other room, the window separating him and his chemicals from their sleeping guest. He barely glances at them before returning to more tests.

"How is she?" He whispers, glowing yellow eyes wavering in weariness. Remy can feel the anxiety hover around the elf as he looks on at Rogue, to the way he grips to the door to settle himself because his mind is still not completely healed. He's tired, drained but determined. The crusted blood is gone and he looks to have taken a shower since his time in the room down the hall.

"Still out. Sleepin' fitfully now." Remy stands, his joints creaking as he goes. He kicks the chair over to Kurt as he points. "Assez-vous before you fall over. We don't need t'be givin' Hank anymore heart attacks today."

Kurt smiles gratefully as he lowers himself. He looks relieved as he inches closer to Rogue's bed. He wants to grab for her hand but he holds back. Remy sees this. He sees the way he wrestles with something big on his mind. He sees the way he bites his cheek from saying anything too loudly to wake Rogue. He sees it all.

And it isn't the first time he wonders about their relationship. About her relationship with a few of the men around here. Colossus. Logan. Nightcrawler.

Remy leans against the wall, spotting the staff under the bed. He doesn't remember how it got there but in his haze of struggling with a diamonded Rogue into the med lab, he thinks it admirable he brought it at all. Carefully he rests his drooping shoulders on the wall and Rogue still remains unchanged.

He hears mumbles and looks up at Kurt across the way, a makeshift rosary in his three fingered hand, and blue lips muttering a quick prayer of healing. Remy smirks. Kurt was either incredibly religious – which he gathers he is by the quick scan of his bedroom that night he threatened him. He doesn't need to know he was scouting – or he cares greatly for the younger girl. His curiosity gets the better of him and before he can control his mouth, words are spurring.

"What you and the girl got goin' on elf?" Remy asks, arms crossed loosely. He doesn't want to seem menacing or threatening. Something in him says he doesn't have to worry about Kurt and the young woman Rogue. Not like it would matter to Remy if they did – Remy has swoon many women over the years – but he'd like to think Rogue was fair game. That she didn't fancy anyone else. That she was available for him. If he was interested that is.

He won't admit to it too loudly. Storm could read him. And she already warned him about her. Apparently everyone worried about the girl, and was extremely protective. But he couldn't help the attraction. She was forbidden fruit and he was feeling tempting enough to try Lady Luck out. But he winces. He could just see the disappointment roll in Storm's eyes at the thought of looking at Rogue the wrong way. And it curbs him, only slightly.

"We have nothing like that," Kurt sighs. He doesn't look at Remy but his aura just screams uncertainty. Now Remy feels compelled to ask.

"You seem close?"

Kurt shrugs, wincing as he goes. His head has a nasty bump on the back and it still makes him spin if he moves too fast. "We work together. We've been on a mission together once in which I saved her life. We are friends."

Remy snorts. "Nah, not just friends." He leans over Rogue's bed, instantly smelling her sandalwood and jasmine perfume even under the harsh medical chemicals that clean the room. Kurt tenses as Remy whispers: "You're not in love wit' de girl. But you love her. Family?" He's seen the look enough. It was on his face when his brother was killed in a 'peace treaty'. It was mirrored on his face when Etienne was drowning and he was stuck rooted and couldn't save him.

The way Belle looked at Julian's corpse… Dieu.

Kurt and Rogue are close. Related. But he could also see that Rogue didn't know. If she did, he was betting she wouldn't act as alone, or as distant as she did.

"Ja, we are brother and sister." Jackpot. "But I have not told her this yet." His kind eyes find Remy's burning gaze. He's nervous. Frightened. What was he hiding? "I am afraid to tell her."

"Why?" Remy asks incredulously. The girl was in poor shape, and with a power that Strom just explained to him while he was rushing to the med lab; the more people in her corner the better. "Girl needs a family homme. Everyone needs someone that they think as family. Blood or not. Everyone."

He stresses his words as Kurt nods. Kurt notices him in a new light, a small smile on his face even if he seems much smaller in the chair. A kinship blooms inside his chest. "Even you then, I am assuming. But it isn't as simple."

Remy snorts. "It rarely is wit' de family. Rogue doesn't know you're related. Why hide it?" And how could you? Growing up with a furry man as an older brother was hard to forget.

Unless… Remy peers closer at the man, arms shaking with the strain of holding himself on the bed. He's as tired as Kurt looks but he won't leave Rogue's side until he knows she's alright. Storm gave him a look when he refused to budge for a few winks of shut eye, but she knows him; he's honorable, even if his choices in life have been shifty. He'd make sure the girl was safe before he took care of himself; he's done it before for Ororo.

Call him a gentleman. Most people didn't.

Remy licks his lips as the thought comes to him. The elf and Rogue were adopted. Like he was into his family. Taken in, forced apart before memories formed?

"Our… mother," Kurt spits out. It is the first time Remy has ever seen the elf say anything with so much hate that he is startled into standing. He's never going to want to be on the end of that wrath. Kurt looks like a possessed demon. "She gave birth to me and then cast me out for my deformities." He holds up a hand, looking at it like it is the first time he sees such a thing. Remy winces in sympathy. "I did not fit into her plans. I had a good home though within the Munich circus." He smiles fondly. "Yet she adopted Rogue because she knew somehow, of what Rogue would become. The gifts she would acquire."

"Some gift," Remy rolls his eyes. It is a curse to be sure. He couldn't imagine being stuck in a body that couldn't feel another's skin without sucking down thoughts like a thirsty plant sucking down water in the Sahara.

Kurt's eyes turn hard. Remy feels a tick in his jaw but remains relaxed. "We are all given obstacles in life because He decides who is strong enough to handle them." Kurt looks back at his sister, reaching for her hand finally, using the bed sheet as a covering. He watches her mouth quirk before sleep reclaims her and he feels calmed. Oddly he is comforted that he is helping her in the dreams that take her now. "Rogue is strong. But she is fragile. Whereas I had a good life, Rogue's was nothing but hardship because our… mother made it that way. She wanted to twist her. Make her one for her terrorist group. Make her hate.

"And I am not sure if I should tell her this. If I should ever tell her the things that happened to her were not because of Divine Will but of an antagonistic woman with deeper plans of hatred and abuse. I am not sure how Rogue will respond to such travesties."

Leaning back against the wall, Remy breathes deeply. Kurt shifts, tail twitching behind him and Remy wants to laugh. It was odd, seeing him as a martyr yet as a demon. An enemy, then friend. Kurt was a body of contradictions – Remy shakes his head. He was sure as hell too tired for thoughts but he pushes onward.

"Why you be telling me this Kurt? I ain't exactly an upstanding individual to offer sympathy or a kind word. I'd soon rather we blow the bitch up then talk to her on the Maury show."

Kurt laughs and Remy cannot help the smirk. The man relaxes, leaning into the chair but his hold does not falter from Rogue's hand. It becomes an iron grip. "I am not sure why I told you all this. Not even Ororo is aware of my situation or my relations with Rogue."

He turns, brushing strands of blue from his eyes. "And yet, of all the people in the Institute, it felt right to talk to you. Like you have been here." Remy fidgets as Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Have you?"

"Somet'ing like that. Been through a lot in life. Never knew my real parents, we could be related hein?" He tries to make it into a joke but it falls on deaf ears. He doesn't like the warm look in Kurt's eyes as he bows his head over his adjoining hands with Rogue. Remy almost wants to reach for her too.

"Of that, I am sorry friend." Kurt then smiles and it doesn't scare Remy like it would before. He feels comforted by the man, and instantly can tell he'd back up the elf if and when he should start to court Stormy. But he doesn't get too carried away. Remy was still an overprotective little brother and he didn't like to think of his 'sister' Ororo with anyone; not yet anyway.

"But we all go through things in life for reasons we do not know. I am afraid to tell Rogue her plight was for nothing, and yet I think now, perhaps it was. She was made to endure so she would come here. So we could meet." His yellows are hopeful and Remy can't help but smile fondly at him. He sure was a dreamer. "And perhaps it is another reason you are here. With us."

"Because I'm a screw up too?"

Kurt ignores this lame attempt at self depreciation. "Because you are meant to find a family with us. You are right when you say everyone needs a family, blood or not. And the X-Men are a family Remy."

Logan pulls into the drive way. His bike is parked in the garage. His helmet is thrown by the door and inside Cyke's old car – the one he destroyed and built back together for the grief stricken man in a deep royal blue – is a cooler of Canadian beer. He pops up the top, still ice cold from the previous day and sits on the closed trunk in a heavy heap. He swallows a healthy sip of the dark liquid and hears a click behind him. Scuffling. He sniffs and growls under his breath.

One lone claw extends. He points it into the air, stopping the newcomer in their clunky steel toed boots. "You can't have any."

"Awh c'mon Logan," Remy cajoles, bo staff dropping on to the cemented ground. Logan snorts, throwing him a bottle grudgingly. To him, Remy is still a lanky kid with a too big of a mouth and too small amount of common sense.

But he knows he has to start thinking in the future now. Logan has missed a part of his life; a good chunk of it that scares him and angers him. Almost fifteen years without knowing who he was, what he was and everything was thrown at him in a matter of twelve hours. His mind aches and he is constantly bombarded with images, memories that attack him. It is his mind's way of telling him, of reminding him. But he hasn't learned to control it yet. He hasn't learned to fight against the memories and focus on the now.

But he has to. He has to live in the present. He has to deal with what he did. Storm said as much to him in the gardens. She's been there – lost, without memories of who she was – and she knew just focusing on the present was more imperative than concentrating on who he was.

And he was an animal. He was ruthless. But he had always had his honor. He fought for those that couldn't. That settles his mind as Remy sighs next to him. And makes it easier to focus on the new him; the X-Man second in command, the mentor who teaches self defense, the friend to those at the school. Including Rogue.

He winces in memory. He would never be able to forgive himself for the lesson the day before. The bruise on her shoulder would mock him until it was gone. He knows he didn't purposefully hurt the girl, and was fighting his mind and memories while sparring with Rogue, but he is to blame. He couldn't control the thoughts, the emotions, the memories. It's his fault.

He makes up his mind then. After the beer in his cooler was finished, all seven of them which they might need more now that Remy was helping him with his task, he'd find Rogue and Storm and apologize. He takes another sip. Maybe. If he could stomach it. He hated saying sorry.

The last time he ever said it was to Jean…

He shakes himself. Not now, not again. He wouldn't let self pity and guilt get at him now. He was Wolverine. And once he pulled himself together enough, he'd go after Emma. They had a lot to discuss, including why she blamed him for Kayla's death. Why she should. But also why she was here, now, in the Institute. Why she attacked him.

Logan smirks. He'll get his answers too. He won't let his past hurt the people around him now.

As minutes tick by, Remy rests beside his old friend in companionable silence. He's on his third beer, the bitter taste a welcome relief from his late night. He's suspecting Logan doesn't know about Rogue and by the intense look on his visage he won't be the one to tell him any time soon. He lets it go, finishing his bottle.

Both are so wrapped into their thoughts that minutes turn into hours and before long, the sun is high, the cold of late fall is settling into their bones. Neither moves just yet. Neither wants to deal with reality just yet.

And Logan finds it amusing, that he hasn't seen the kid – man for almost fifteen years, and yet their bond of friendship – if one could call it that – is strong. They sit together, neither talking, and both feel comforted even as the weight of their thoughts consume. Logan hasn't felt this amicable since taking Rogue into his RV.

Logan then nudges Remy with his elbow, his leather jacket from the kind old couple he befriended after his operation, crinkles in the quiet room. He tips his beer, his fourth now, to the side, clinking it against Remy's empty one. He rolls his eyes skyward, a grimace on his thin lips. He knows once he says it, Remy will finish it.

It is oddly comforting, because he knows, this might be the last moment of comfort before trying times.

"Life sucks -"

"An' den you die." They drink heartily thereafter.

Hank has never seen so many visitors come to one room in his medical unit before. The lovely young woman, Rogue, remains impassive in her bed while the young Robert Drake stands watch at the doorway.

Hank knows her vitals are healthy, that her heart is normal and the brain scan reveals it in a slight healing trance. Memories not her own were being put away and the only way for her mind to do this is by sleeping. And they were quite powerful – driven by emotions from the host and with her newly reemerged powers not yet at the consistent strength made the absorption that much more powerful, uncontrollable to Rogue's fragile mind. And hurtful.

But Hank smiles as he one last time feels her strong heartbeat; she will be fine. She is strong, she is a fighter and in the short amount of time of knowing the young Rogue, he has come to know her as a survivor. In many ways she reminds him of Kate from Shakespeare's play "Taming of the Shrew", but in other ways she seems much frailer than the woman but just as defiant.

Bobby clears his throat pulling Hank from his thoughts. Turning toward him, he is taken back by how a student he has known for much of his residence within the Institute looks older, matured and focused. This is not the charming, boyish Bobby who used to pull pranks in the girl's wing. This is the X-Man who has lived through abandonment of his family, the raid of the Institute, three deaths of adults who cared for him since he was young, and the subsequent break up of a relationship doomed from the start.

"Yes Bobby?" Hank asks, releasing Rogue's wrist with his gloved hand. He guesses any hour she will awaken.

Bobby chews on his bottom lip, ice eyes capturing Hank in concern. He knows there is still closeness between the ex-lovers, but Hank is baffled why now, Bobby appears to care so greatly. It was no surprise when Robert Drake took Rogue under his wing; much had been done for him when he was new at the school with Teresa, the mutant known as Sage; he was reciprocating the favor. He was a caring man, though at times had been disposed to immaturity. But the relationship that followed was a shock – not to mention painful for both parties.

Hank was almost saddened to say he was relieved both removed from each other. Bobby was understanding and patient as he grew, but he could not give Rogue what she required. And she could not give him the normalcy that he craved, for that was all that Bobby wanted in the end. Rogue had seen it, and she had stopped it from continuing because she would not be what he needed. Hank wonders if Bobby knew why.

"Is she going to be alright? I mean, The White Queen didn't do anything in there." He points to his skull and Hanks smiles softly.

"No, Bobby. Rogue will be fine. She is most resilient, and though her powers are unpredictable in their intensity after the Cure's effects, I can safely assume they have adapted to the force of Emma's powers. It is a miracle her powers absorbed Emma at all. Her skin is organic diamond, tough, and as durable as the gems made from the Earth. Maybe we are discovering a new side to Rogue's powers not yet reached until her body was able to experience a reprieve from them?" He turns back to the girl, musing to himself. "She simply has a wonderful gift. Intriguing." He laughs and then looks over at Bobby.

He doesn't share his excitement in the news.

"But she's ok?"

"She's fine." Hank can see the stress leave his shoulders. "Are you alright Robert?"

He scratches the back of his neck, and shrugs. He doesn't remove his eyes from Rogue. "Just worried. About her. I know her powers have been off lately. I wasn't sure if this hurt her or helped her. She hasn't absorbed anyone since…" he makes a vague hand gesture.

They both know Rogue was extremely careful since the return of her powers not to touch anyone. After touching Bobby – and his coma induced trance that had lasted two weeks when her powers had returned in the dead of night – Rogue had removed herself from everyone. She was still positive she'd gain control, which made Hank smile inside, but her isolation was trying. She was frightened to hurt anyone any more. She didn't want them to suffer because of her.

Hank applauds her self-sacrifice but he knows it is unhealthy. She needs to find someone she could be herself with, someone she could love and appreciate. She needed to love someone, who would risk everything for her. Someone that would do that for her, without fear. For Rogue was always frightened of herself, to find someone not afraid, would be the key. That was why Bobby and she failed. She had terrified the young man, whether he knew it not. He had not accepted her, had not wished to take a bullet, so to speak for the girl.

Acceptance. It was all Kate needed; it was all Rogue desired and deserved.

Hank walks to the man, clasping him on the shoulder. "She is scared. But aware. She finds herself at a standstill and she is stubborn enough to not want help yet compassionate enough would not want to endanger anyone. She comes to me for training, but she has done much on her own. Rogue will be fine Robert. She is a survivor."

Bobby smiles gratefully. But he is pushed aside as Logan roars into the room, claws extended on each side of his body. Remy is close at his heels, a bottle of beer still in his hands.

"Logan?" Hank asks, righting a careening Bobby. "What is the matter?"

"What happened?" He's growling, the sound vibrating throughout the rooms. Remy winces, rubbing the bridge of his nose as Hank walks beside his colleague.

"I tried telling him nicely. I says, 'Logan, the Rogue's out for the count'. He goes off tearing up the damned garage like some crazy beast! Now I knows why they call y'the Wolverine."

"Logan," Hank calls, grabbing his arm. They both know in case of strength, Hank can overpower Wolverine, but not for long. He prays he won't have to hold him back. "Rogue is healing from an absorption. She should awaken soon."

"Not good enough Hank," Logan scoffs. He yanks the chair that Kurt had sat in that morning, pulling it to Rogue's side intent on staying with her until her eyes open. Until he can hear her sickly Southern accent that is giving way to the cold Yankee talk and see the fire in her eyes at being pissed at him for what he's done. Or not done. His guilt is tangible and everyone quiets as he rests his hands beside Rogue's cheek, twitching.

He doesn't dare try to force his healing ability on her, not now, not while she recovers from another draining. But he wants to. He wants her better. He told her once that he wasn't her father, but deep down he knows he lies. She needs someone. He wants to be there for her. He feels guilty for leaving her, leaving the school grounds. He should have been here to protect her. Help her. Help all of them. The guilt tears at his guts, making anger cloud his mind.

"Who did she touch?" It is low, soft, but fierce. But none of the men in the room can speak. They wince as he turns, stares at each of them in turn, his grey eyes piercing. Remy clears his throat, about to speak, courage fleeting but Hank steps forward awkwardly. They are afraid of Logan's reaction. They know of their bond. They know of his ordeals. They know how it all ties together with Emma and her fight with Logan the night before. How Rogue risked herself to find them answers that their second command refused to find. Of her strength and his inability.

"Emma Frost, Logan. She wanted to help us understand more. And while you were gone-"

He doesn't finish as Logan storms out of the room. They hear the clatter of metal against metal, the grinding of claws being pushed into the flimsy metal walls and the shouts of pain laced with anger. They hear the elevator whirl and the doors open. Then silence as it slowly ascends.

They are stuck rooted, looking to the ceiling. They don't envy Emma Frost when Logan finds her. Or Ororo who has been with her since Rogue's absorption. They only pray neither of them kill Logan or vice versa.

AN: So? Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Let me know!

Peace