A/N: Alright, here's another chappy. Rogue has told the adults the truth about Celeste's past and, from information made up of absorbed memories and news from Gambit, the story of Celeste and Etienne is now known. Gambit, however, does not know the truth. Well, not much I can say here, aso skip ahead to the review, if you skip parts of my long-ass chapter.
(o0)
Celeste's eyelashes fluttered and she opened them to an all too familiar sight. It was unwelcome, but soothing- a sign that, perhaps, things were alright. She was strangely calm. The harsh white light, glaringly bright above her, and the crisp sheets of the Medilab. She sighed…how many times must she awake, disorientated and feeling slightly drugged, before she simply went into a crazed rampage and caused a tornado in the blue doctor's lab. Perhaps it was one of the after effects of whatever Mr McCoy had given her, but her limbs felt strangely heavy, as if weighed down. It was as if Celeste was tied down.
She lifted her head carefully. Thick straps held her hands to the side and her torso against the bed. Likewise, her legs, at the knees and ankles, were also secured. Hesitantly, she raised her knee, but the band only gave way a little. She felt her heart beginning to speed up, but schooled it to its normal pace. If she let herself become worked up, those horrible thoughts of Etienne's fate would come rushing back, sending her spiralling into darkness. She surveyed the room again, eyes widening and focussing. Her heart beat faster still and she began to breathe rapidly. No, she had to stay calm and conscious, because she had a purpose now.
She was going back to where it had started and she was gone end things. She would go back to the bridge and there, where she and Belle had spoken, it would end. And Celeste didn't care whether she died, as long as Belle- her sister in arms- came with her.
And, anyway, it appeared that she had outstayed her welcome. Had the X-Men always known about her? Her clothing and weaponry, spread on the clean countertop, seemed to suggest this. They had opened their arms to her, despite their suspicions, and trusted her. Now the X-Men knew her secrets- or as many of them as Rogue chose to share. So they had drugged her, they had strapped her down…a criminal in their eyes. Celeste felt her eyes burn, the pain of moving on. The message was clear.
She concentrated and aerated, reappearing slightly off from her targeted location and almost falling. It had to have been a sedative that they had given to her- straight into her veins. She clung to the bench and looked, fearful and fond, at her tools of trade. She traced the still sharp blade of one throwing knife, before grasping its hilt. It settled into her hand and she turned suddenly, whirling around to whip the knife through the air, and the blade disappeared to the hilt, sinking into the soft pillow of the bed. She still knew what to do. She wrapped her hand around her gun and twirled it expertly, before placing it down. She didn't know how much time she had left and began to hurriedly pull on the clothing laid out on the counter. The find of her bracelet, which spelt her name out, caused her to smile and then frown- Etienne had given it to her. She then began to arm herself.
She paused, touching the silver Assassins' Guild insignia on her ornate pistol. Celeste took it to the bed and, withdrawing her knife from the pillow, used it to pry off the symbol. As an afterthought, she placed the broken symbol on the pillow, almost like a calling card. She smoothed the bed over and looked around the room. There was no sign that she had ever been there; just the motif on the bed, a final admission of her sins, of her profession.
Still grasping the throwing knife, she stalked over to a closed panel in the wall and unfastened the catch, to let the array of switches and complicated wiring show. The Mansion's switchboard was where it was judged to be most secure. Celeste studied it for a moment, and then switched off the electricity to the grounds of the mansion, and the underground and ground floor levels. Immediately, the place fell into darkness.
She used her powers to sense her path and began to run, nigh on soundless.
(0o)
Logan's eyes flicked open, at exactly the same moment as the lower levels of the mansion were shrouded in darkness. It wasn't a change in scent, nor a sound, but rather a feel that something was wrong. And when he went to flip his lights on, he realised something was, indeed, wrong. Bracing himself against the door, he schooled himself to silence, listening intently. Faint enough to be a heartbeat, he heard footsteps- someone light was running down the hall, wishing to not be heard, let alone seen. He sniffed…no scent. The identity was obvious.
He pushed open his door and stepped out into the hallway and Celeste nearly crushed herself against his chest. Her hands immediately used him to propel herself backwards and she fell into a fighting stance, partially crouched, already knowing she stood no chance against the older, much more experience Wolverine, but unwilling to sacrifice her clothing and weaponry for her escape. Her right hand swayed slightly, knife in grasp, ready to fight.
Wolverine looked at her, perplexed. Celeste reeked of fear and adrenalin, confusion and sedative. In the semi-darkness, her eyes were wide and she was breathing heavily.
"Easy there, Windy," he said, spreading his hands wide, in the universal gesture of peace. "I ain't gonna hurt ya."
Celeste hand was steady, but she was shaking slightly. She felt so tired and weak and that was just not on.
"I really don't wanna fight you, Logan," she said slowly, words slightly slurred. "But I need t'get past you and I'll have t'ask ya to get out of the way."
He advanced a step forward.
"Ya goin' somewhere, kid?" he said, taking the barest of steps towards her and regretting it, as she flinched slightly. "'Cause there's no way you're getting past me, in that state you're in. Look at ya- ya can hardly stand, let alone fight, kid. Ya still have Hank's drugs in you and have been out of it for days…maybe it's just the drugs talkin', but I still can't let you pass, darlin'."
During that time, he'd been ever so slowly approaching her, cautious, lest she shy away. Her eyes widened slightly and Logan noticed that her pupils were dilated and the faint scent of perspiration on her. Celeste wasn't well and the fear stench grew stronger.
"Listen, kid, the Doc had to put you out for a few days to calm down…we know that ya ain't exactly a saint, but we're working things out. How 'bout you put the knife down and I take you to the Professor?"
"Like ya' haven't already talked to him…" she said, her words pouring out. "Is he comin' already to play his mind games, heh?"
"No, Windy, just you and me here- you look like you're goin' off somewhere- where to?"
Celeste lowered the knife slightly, more out of weakness than a show of trust.
"Back," she said shortly.
"Back where?" Logan pushed, shuffling forward again, pushing his advantage.
"Ya know where, already," Celeste almost growled, but allowed her hand to fall to her side, her knuckles white as she gripped the blade. "Back to where it started- and this time there's gonna be an finish. No more loose ends."
At that, her eyes revealed a little of her inner anguish and she looked aside, as if concealing it. Wolverine lunged, knocking the knife from her hand and holding her arms, as if she'd strike out. Instead, to his shock, Celeste's head fell against his chest and a strangled sob escaped her and he smelt the salty tang of tears. His arms lowered and he held her gingerly.
"Okay, kid…" he said uncomfortably. "I know ya think ya have to go back…"
"No! I- I have to go back- and make things- right again," Celeste choked out, between shuddering breaths.
She pushed herself off him, sniffling slightly, before wiping her eyes on her leather sleeves. She swallowed, before looking at Logan through puffy, desperate eyes- eyes which revealed her shame. Logan turned abruptly and began to walk back into his room, but paused in the doorway.
"Just leave a note on the fridge," he said gruffly. "Chuck worries about you kids…"
He shut the door behind him and heard retreating footsteps.
'Are you sure that was wise?'
'Thought I had a passenger,' Logan grumbled in reply. 'The kid knows what she's doing…'
Logan rolled over in his covers. The moment he had felt something wrong, he had sent out a soundless warning to the Professor, by his own orders. Professor Xavier's success rate in 'dealing' with Celeste's problem had come to no effect. Realising Logan's train of thought, Xavier withdrew with a parting thought.
'She thinks she knows what she's doing…'
Logan grunted and threw a thin blanket on him, seeking the darkness again.
(0o)
In the darkness, Celeste studied Rogue. She didn't look like she was weighed down or distressed by the secrets that had been revealed that day. No, she looked peaceful and angelic, the moonlight touching her already pale face and turning it into porcelain. In her sleep, she dreamt, her eyelashes flickering slightly. Rogue- she knew Celeste better than anyone now- better, even, than Etienne had. Celeste kneeled by her bedside, listening to her breathe deeply and Kitty making slight, sleepy sounds. That moment was so peaceful…Celeste could have simply gone back downstairs and, without showing and semblance of her midnight wandering, let it all blow over…Logan wouldn't share her secrets…but then again, she'd thought the same of Rogue…
"I'll see ya 'round, Roguey," Celeste murmured and brushed the hair out of her face, deliberately trailing her fingers against the soft skin of her cheek.
A small whimper escaped her and she snatched her hand away, immediately dizzy and swaying. The world was slightly darker and intimidating…her awareness of her surrounds dulled. Had she really come to rely this much on her powers? Dizzily, she pulled the covers over Rogue and, crossing over to Kitty- naïve Kitty- and looked at her fondly. Her stomach clenched and she was sure she was going to puke and rushed to the door, silently unlatched to lean out the window. The fall wasn't too high and she dropped out the window. Her landing wasn't perfect, but she landed unharmed on the grass. She was lucky she'd thought ahead and turned off the security system, else she'd have no chance to fend off all the hidden artillery and weaponry.
She began to walk, pulling her coat tight around her. At the gate, she pinned in what she knew to be Logan's code. No-one, who happened to read tonight's records, would question Logan leaving the mansion's premises at three o'clock in the morning. She looked unsurely down each side of the road…she'd escaped the Mansion, but how would she leave Bayville? She felt a hand wrap around her arm and neck, pinning her neatly. She caught a familiar scent, an unwelcome one.
"Ya leavin' so soon, petit?" Gambit whispered into her hair. "Dat's a right shame if you were plannin' another runner…'cause you ain't gonna get away this time, 'ssassin."
Celeste struggled feebly, elbowing Gambit in the stomach and pressing into his foot with the steel heel of her boot. Maybe, if she didn't still have the traces of sedative coursing through her body, if she had eaten for the past two days and hadn't given Rogue a tap, she might have stood a chance. And, to her surprise, she was released. She felt something hard make contact with her head and, then, nothing.
(0o)
Celeste's eyes flipped open, as her mouth was opened and water was poured in. Reflexively, she swallowed, but when the water continued to pour it, she spat it out, coughing. Her eyes narrowed against the bright sunlight. Her hands were tied behind her back and her ankles too. They were strong knots. And, despite the fact that he wore sunglasses in the bright light, Remy Le Beau's features were obvious.
"Casse-toi," she hissed angrily.
"No merci?" Gambit said, with a laugh. "Gambit be wounded."
"Gambit' be a lot more than wounded when Celeste gets her hands on him," she snarled in response. "Untie me, now, Le Beau."
"Non…Remy don't think he can do that. One- ya just gonna try and slit his throat the moment he turns 'round; two, it's great to see a crazy bitch like you in ropes and three, we got a schedule to keep."
Celeste looked at him dumbfounded. He offered her the mouth of an open bottle of water and she looked at it mistrustingly. He took a sip, as if to assure her, then offered it again. He again pressed it to her lips and she accepted it. No use in being stubborn, if you wanted to have any chance to escape. With the patience of a sparrow feeding its young, Remy gave her the bottle of water, while Celeste's hands remained bound. It seemed to help and Celeste took note of her surrounds.
A gas station, with its ridiculously overpriced fuel. A high sun, and she was placed in the back of a Jeep, which she immediately recognised as belonging to Lance.
"Thief…" she said critically.
"Dat Remy is," he replied earnestly. "Hungry?"
Celeste nodded curtly and he procured a sandwich, which he fed to her. Celeste didn't make eye contact and turned her face away after she'd eaten half of the sandwich.
"Where do ya think you're taking me, Le Beau?"
"Back," he said simply. "And Remy's doesn't think, Remy knows that he's taking ya back."
"Why, ya cocky bastard?"
"No need to be rude, petite. I didn't kill ya, so I guess ya gotta stand trial. Things are different now…you were Etienne's femme, weren't ya?"
A succession of emotions flickered over Celeste's face. Remy's skills in empathy were limited, but he could read her accurately. Her eyes alone were open books. Anger, shame, hatred, disbelief and a strong emotion that could only be identified as something akin to betrayal of trust…so intent was he on reading these emotions that he didn't even flinch, when she spat in his face, then lunged forward to try and attack him. She head butted Remy's cheek bone with a resounding crack and moved to do it again, teeth bared- a qualm she had lost, when training with Logan, who had once bitten her when she gotten him pinned down, then cracked up at her expression.
There was only so much that a individual, no matter what training she had been given, could do when bound against a free opponent. Remy merely hopped out of the car and Celeste fell forward and into the space between the front seats and the back. She growled audibly and was about to transform, then realised something. It would be better not to reveal her powers so lightly and she was headed to New Orleans either way. That didn't prevent her from looking up from her humiliating position to glare daggers at Remy, who was impassively wiping his face on a serviette. He looked up, red eyes angry, before grabbing her by the back of the neck and depositing back on the back seat. Those eyes suddenly glowed with feeling, mirroring those emotions of Celeste, as he backhanded her. Ears ringing, she fell backwards.
Remy stared at his captive Assassin in disgust, and some confusion. He didn't understand the situation and he wasn't sure that he shouldn't have finished her off the other night, Etienne's girl or no. Reaching into one of his deep pockets, he pulled out a roll of duct tape. Pulling off a generous strip, he pressed it over Celeste's lips, securing it. He proceeded to sticky tape her bound limbs to the chair, then binding her feet and wrists to either passenger seat. And just so this didn't happen to arouse the attention of passing motorists, he threw his heavy duster over her.
"Learn some manners, petite," he suggested helpfully, before hopping into the driver's seat once more.
As he reached among the wiring of Lance's Jeep, his mobile rang, buzzing in his pocket. He looked at it, as it rang out, before turning it off. This was no business of Rogue's.
(0o)
Rogue paced the patch of carpet outside the Professor's office, chewing her bottom lip nervously. It was the development of that habit, which now stopped her from wearing the heavy makeup she'd once worn- purple teeth was not an appealing look. Kitty and Kurt had already left and she'd seen no sign of Celeste…but she knew where she was.
Tell'm I'm going back, Roguey, and not t'worry…
Rogue rubbed her head irritated. Now she had Celeste's voice in her head for company, but at least it was allied with her. She vaguely registered that the absorbed personas of Celeste and Gambit were now getting along. They had more in common than they cared to know and were capable of friendship, if only the matter had been solved quickly and decisively. She had tried to contact Remy, as soon as she wakened, but he hadn't answered. Rogue was worried.
The office door opened and Rogue walked in.
"Yes, Rogue?" the Professor asked mildly, his expression making him seem old and exhausted.
"Celeste is gone, she left last nahght," Rogue began.
"I know," the Professor said sadly. "She wouldn't let herself be stopped."
Rogue looked taken aback at that news.
"She left a- a message in mah head. She must'f come into mah room last nahght and touched me in mah sleep. Can ya read mah mind?"
Without waiting for an answer, Rogue was moving towards him, to kneel in front of him, eyes already closed. Xavier bowed his head to Rogues, before gingerly placing his hands on either side of her head, centimetres from her skin. He braced himself, but Rogue's barriers didn't resist him.
((Rogue's head))
The Professor was thrown into the constant deluge that was Rogue's mind; memories and personas sought to grab him, but he sought something else, something important. Suspended, as if in empty space, Rogue materialised next to him.
'The voices haven't been so bad lately,' she said.
'Show me Celeste,' the Professor replied.
From the floodwaters of Rogue's mind, tendrils snaked up, like smoke, to form Celeste's figure. It was Celeste's absorbed persona, a shadow of her. She smiled slyly, then dissolved again, and suddenly, images of Celeste's life were playing around them.
'A strange upbringing…' he murmured, as a knife flew through him and Rogue to reach a target in the form of a man and an older boy jubilantly congratulated her; a dirty-faced girl climbing into the back of a train, too young to be alone, but devastatingly by herself..
A younger Celeste, toes making ripples in the river, withdrawing them as a dark-haired boy, arm slung around her, casually warned her of alligators. Two youths, facing different ways on a bridge, smiling and talking to one another, never turning. The two rolling on the grass, then the scene faded,
'Etienne…' Rogue explained, then another scene appeared.
Etienne, eyes becoming dull, blood seeping onto Celeste's gloved hands.
"Belle," he wheezed and then Celeste was running, running away…running from Benoit's body and from everything she'd been taught to believe in.
Celeste was lying in the Medilab, finding herself secured to the bed. She was struggling, then transforming. Changing back into her Assassins' gear. Betrayal- but had she betrayed them or they her? Rogue looked at the Professor, astounded.
'Tied down, Professor?'
'She was struggling in her unconscious state…she could have dealt harm to herself or others.'
The images flickered away and, once more, Celeste's persona appeared.
"Professor," it said, "I'm going back t'where you found me and I'll finish what I must. Merci for your trust and I'm so sorry t' have betrayed it…"
'You didn't- we knew…' the Professor tried to say, but Rogue silenced him.
'This is a thought…the message she left for you in mah head.'
"…I ask that y'don't come after me, or seek me out. I've brought enough trouble already. I will make sure your name is cleared. They won't come for you. I know I may not survive, or leave whole, but I accept that. I will fix everything. Adieu Professor…merci Rogue…"
A last memory flickered, as they withdrew. Celeste's bare hand touching Rogue's cheek and then they were gone…Celeste was gone.
((Out of Rogue's head))
"I see…" the Professor said tiredly, folding his hands as Rogue stood up. "We have lost her then…if we ever had her at all."
"Of course we had her, Professor…" Rogue said assuring him. "And she will come back…Ah know it."
(0o)
Remy had stared stalwartly ahead during the day and, when darkness fell, pulled up into a crummy, highway motel- identical to a hundred other crummy, highway motels he'd stayed at, during his years. Behind him, Celeste hadn't moved from sundown to sunset, though he doubted what mobility she did have, with the firm bonds he'd put on her. She hadn't even made a noise.
Parking Lance's Jeep, he whipped off the trench coat he'd put over her. He narrowed red on black eyes angrily, mouth twisting into a scowl. Celeste grinned back, reclining comfortably.
"Let's talk, Gambit."
Celeste lay on a pile of ropes and spent duct tape, in the same body suit she had worn on the night they fought. Seeing his surprise, she began to pull her clothes from the tangle of ropes and pull them over the top.
"How?" he asked, slightly crestfallen.
"Y'can't hold me, Le Beau," Celeste said frankly. "So I think we're gonna have t'make a deal. I don't know who told ya 'bout me'n Etienne, but I didn't touch him- I never saw him again, after de night at de museum."
"Gambit's listenin'."
"Benoit killed him- knife to de heart," Celeste said gingerly, placing two fingers over her chest, where her heart beat steadily, though not without considerable effort. "I killed Benoit. Theo left and told me to leave too…we left de bodies dere, but- if it helps't all- if it makes it less worse, well…- Etienne was definitely…gone. I think it was Bella…Bella who did dat stuff…"
Remy swore explosively, guilt coursing through his veins. He'd left his cousins there and Etienne had been killed…and Theo…
"Mon Dieu…Theo knew 'bout you and Etienne's little game!" he exclaimed, then calmed down. "What's de deal?"
Celeste smiled, then hopped out of the car.
"Y'take me to New Orleans and y'help me fix things…I tell ya de whole story and come without a fuss."
"Ya get free ride and I get some story…how do I benefit, petite?" Remy asked warily.
"I let ya get in on avengin' Etienne."
(0o)
A/N: Chapter Review: Celeste awakens, bound in the Medilab, believing the X-Men think she did kill Etienne- she finds her gear laid out; she escapes the mansion, having a run-in with Logan and leaving a message in Rogue's head; outside the Mansion's gates, she is captured by Gambit; Xavier gets the message and Celeste and Remy strike up a deal.