Disclaimer: see other chapters
Dying's very easy…
"Remy?" Rogue knocked on the door.
Quickly Gambit shrugged off his trench coat, pulled the blinds down and lit a candle. "C'm on in chere."
Shyly, Rogue slid the door open, hugging her jacket close around her, "I decided to wear something nice, you mustn't laugh."
He gave a wide, lopsided smile, "Chere I wouldn' laugh at youse if you whatever you was wearing."
"Alright." Nervously, she opened the jacket revealing a white lacy nightgown that hung down low from her shoulders, "I didn't really know what to get, and I don't know anyone else to ask so I hope it's…" Her voice trailed off as Gambit walked towards her and slid the jacket off her shoulders.
"Chere, you look perfect."
She smiled, relieved.
"You look like an angel, an angel come down into Gambit's life to make it all worth somet'ing again." He ran a hand down the side of her arm, quickly and lightly, enjoying the slight tingle of skin on skin.
"I-I'm glad you like it."
"Shh." Slowly, he began to stroke her hair, guiding her gently to the bed, where they sat down. "You don' never need to fuss 'bout what dis Cajun t'ink of youse. Nor worry 'bout what he's gonna do."
She gave a small sigh, "I guess there's some things we just can't do."
He looked up at her, mischief sparkling in his eyes, "An' dat makes you unhappy, non?"
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"The t'ought that we can't…well." Quickly, he ran a finger down her cheek, "Somet'ing tells me dat my Roguey want to go further."
She blushed, "I…I really am going out with Bobby."
He pulled away, slightly shocked, "You mean he doesn't know 'bout dis all? You in… dat." He waved a hand expressively at her nightgown.
Rogue sighed, "I'm gonna tell him tomorrow. Just need a bit of confidence first. I mean…I just like talking with you. When I'm with him it's…different."
"Dif'rent how?" He resumed stroking her hair, which smelt like jasmine.
"More…annoying."
He laughed at that and then quickly reached over and gave her the shortest, most fleeting of kisses.
Rogue gasped and sprung back, her hands to her lips.
"Chere, relax."
"Remy, you do know about my powers don't you, you know that if you…"
He held his fingers to her lips, holding them there for just a second before reluctantly moving them away. "Don' worry. Remy got it all under control."
She leant against his shirt, "This really isn't fair on Bobby."
Gently, Gambit slid down the headboard so that they were lying down side by side. "Worl' isn't fair, ma patite, but dats how it is. If Iceman can't see what's in front of his face, dats his problem, an' my beautiful girl don' need to worry 'bout it."
"Mmm." She snuggled up against him. Slowly, he turned and gave her another kiss, just as short.
"Dis is gonna drive us both mad, petite."
"Kiss me Remy. Please. I can't hurt you, I know I can't, I love you too much." She swallowed, desperately wanting it to be true.
He looked into her eyes and saw the uncertainty. "You let me pull away if t'ings get bad tho'."
She nodded, wondering why it was she always felt so safe with him.
He smiled, a long easy beautiful smile. And then he was coming towards her, her lips were parted; he could see her breath rising and falling beneath the lace. His lips were on hers, warm and slightly chapped, she gave a small gasp into his mouth that made him feel dizzy.
And then the dizziness was growing, there was a pounding in his head, it was hard to breath, the world was swirling. He kept going, trying to drink in as much of her as possible, the smell of her, the taste, the feel of her soft skin. Nausea built up inside him, his breath was rattling in his throat, there were black spots covering his vision. He left it as long as he could before falling away, feeling weak and drained, to suddenly find himself facing two eyes of red, with deep black surrounding them.
"Woah." He murmured, trying hard not to faint or throw-up. "Dat…was quite some kiss…"
Rogue blinked at the new power running through her. A faint frown crossed her face. "You…you're an empath…"
"Ah." He squinted at her, through the fuzzy unsettled world, trying to work out how she was reacting.
She scooted backwards across the bed, pulling the nightdress up as high as it would go. "No wonder it always felt so perfect!"
Gambit sighed, still concentrating on bringing the world back into focus, "Leave it chere."
"What do you mean leave it!" Her eyes blazed red, "How do I know what you've made me think?"
"Stop bein' stupid girl. I didn't make you t'ink anyt'ing. You chose dis all on your own." He pushed himself up and gave a groan, "An' I'm t'inking Iceman got a lucky escape."
"What!"
"Uh…" Gambit tried to think. "I didn' mean dat, you know I didn'. Ah, don' put the jacket back on."
"I though you said you didn't care what I wore."
The nausea was starting to go, but his head was still pounding, which was possibly why his brain continued along the suicidal path it had started, "Chere, I say all sorts of t'ings, but what man's not gonna prefer you in a lacy t'ing where youse jus' a second away from falling out over de top."
She stared at him angrily, her eyes fading back to their normal colour, her face still just as angry. "Well…"
"Ah no chere, don' go…" The door slammed shut behind her. Wearily Gambit sank back onto the covers wondering vaguely why, despite everything that had just happened; all he wanted to do was kiss her again.
There was something over his head that smelt of grime and flour. The floor was moving, in a bumpy rugged way that made him feel slightly seasick. His hands were tied behind his back and his legs were caught up in something. His head hurt like mad and the side of his arm was stinging.
All in all, Pyro decided, it was probably the worst he'd ever felt upon waking up.
He tried to speak, but all that came out was a weak sort of croak. Licking his lips, he tried again. "Toad?"
No answer.
Pyro began to feel slightly panicky. What had happened? They'd been wandering through the woods; lost, angry and bickering. There'd been a noise and then … they'd been attacked? He remembered a man with what looked like an axe, he'd been going to fry them but something had hit him around the head and the fireball had gone out of control.
Maybe Toad had got away, he certainly hoped so. Although a very scared and somewhat selfish little part of him was rather hoping that Toad hadn't got away, then at least there would be someone else with him, someone who could possibly help.
He swallowed, trying to crush the panicking feeling that was starting to attack him in waves. He wasn't dead, that was a good point. Whoever had captured them didn't want them dead. Toad might be safe, that was another good point. Toad would run back to the mansion and tell…who?
Who would care what had happened to him? More to the point, who would do anything about it?
Mystique? She had problems of her own. Toad maybe, and possibly Sabretooth, but he couldn't see them deciding to set out on their own. Yesterday he would have said Gambit, certainly, but after the events of the last few hours he was no longer sure. Magneto didn't seem to care about anything any more. He'd spent every day since his recovery sitting on a bench in the garden, staring at the lake.
The X-men? Not a chance!
The self-pity at least washed away some of the terror. It also gave his senses enough time to catch up, and put forward the hesitant suggestion that they were probably in some sort of motor vehicle. Furthermore, his legs seemed to be caught in a net, and whoever had tied his hand up had certainly done a good job of it.
He struggled slightly, but gave up fairly rapidly. This was clearly not an escape situation and…
They'd taken his lighter.
They'd taken his lighter!
The flamethrower device attached to his arm was no longer there, the strips of cotton that held it in place had been torn away.
And without the lighter, Pyro was helpless.
Indio raced through the mansion, desperately searching for Wolverine's thoughts. The mansion was oddly quiet, few people thought in their dreams, at least, not that he could hear. Somewhere below him Scott and Hank were worried about something, on the other side of the mansion, Rogue was upset, the Cajun man was…ill, and from the danger-room he could hear Colossus, desperately trying to train.
But there was no sign of Wolverine.
He hid behind a pillar as Rogue rushed past him Oh no what have I done, I shouldn't have run away, now he'll never speak to me again, how could he say that, oh god what do I do, I should go back to Bobby but I can't do that. I should tell Bobby, but how can I now that I've messed it all up, why did I run away I almost killed him, maybe I did, maybe he's dead, but I can't go back now.
And then he heard it, coming from somewhere to the left of him, Why do I keep having these weird…memory things. That kid must have screwed something up in my mind pretty good. Are they memories? Or is some other psychic mucking around in my head. Jason made visions didn't he? Maybe there's another mutant like that. I really need to speak to the Professor.
He followed the sound of Logan's thoughts, keeping to the shadows, hiding again as Scott walked past Well there's not much we can do now, it's down to Lewison although what he'll do is anyone's guess, stupid idiot, why on earth he came out with all that rubbish…
At last he reached the door, and gave a timorous knock. "Logan?"
"What?" The voice didn't sound particularly friendly, but Logans thoughts were still baffled and bewildered. Indio pushed the door open and stepped in.
"It's me, Indio."
"Oh. Right. What do you want kid?"
Indio frowned at the thoughts he was receiving, "Did you have another vision-memory thing?"
Logan gave a short laugh, "Can't hide anything from you, kid. Yeah. It was me, I think it was me, standing on watch while a bunch of guys busted a safe open."
"Ah."
"Was that what you came in here to hear?"
"Oh, no. I was just…walking near the woods." Indio looked a little sheepish at Logan's grin, "It was only just past night-time. I climbed down the ivy."
"That's no problem to me kid, escape whenever you want, just stay safe."
Indio nodded, "But then I heard…thoughts. From the wood. There were two people in there, I think they were mutants, and they were being…hunted."
Logan frowned. "Who were they?"
Indio tried to remember what he'd heard, "Toad. I think. And…Pyro."
Logan gave a shrug. "They don't really have anything to do with us?"
"But they were taken away! Their thoughts stopped coming!"
Wolverine shook his head again, then stopped, noticing the look of visible distress on Indio's face. "Look kid, I don't like it any more than you but they're…"
What?
Kids. They're just kids. One stupid teenager and one young adult who's been through far too much crap.
He thought of St. John, laughing and joking with Bobby, and of Toad, curled up desperately on the stone floor, the scars on his back.
Muttering under his breath, Logan got up and pulled on a coat. "C'mon kid, lets get Scott up and find out what the hells going on."
--
A/N: Some confusion may have been caused by the use of the name Kain in the last chapter. Just to clarify, Kain in my universe is NOT Juggernaut but someone else. Juggernaut doesn't really have a name.
And in case anyone was interested, the title is from the Hanging Song, by Fairport Convention. The chorus goes:
Shake the holy water
Summon up the guard
Dying's very easy
Waiting's very hard.
Which might give you a clue to the title of the next chapter btw :)
(It was apparently a common English custom in the Middle Ages that if you tried to hang someone three times, and each time the trapdoor failed to open, then God obviously didn't want them to die, and they were let off. This song is about a bloke in this position, he walks up three times and each time the trapdoor gets stuck when the lever's pulled. An odd subject for a song maybe, but there you go).