There was a police cruiser outside the gate at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. It was late, and the headlights shone up the wet pavement towards the mansion. Ororo and Logan conferred with one another briefly before buzzing the officer through the gate. The vehicle drove slowly up the curving driveway to park in front of the staircase leading to the main entry. The front facade of the house was lit by porch lamps, candles in each window, and twinkling white holiday lights strung on bushes and trees. Ororo and Logan watched the sheriff step from the cruiser, place his broad-brimmed hat on his head. He fiddled with the radio on the front of his brown coat, then walked to the rear of the cruiser where he let a big dog, a Belgian Malinois, out of the vehicle.
"Well, this should be fun," Logan said.
The civil servant and the dog then began climbing the steps towards the school. Ororo opened the front door for him.
"Good evening," she said.
The man nodded slightly. "Good evening, ma'am...sir. Is Doctor Xavier available?"
"I am afraid he is away on a personal matter," Ororo informed him.
"May I ask who is in charge of the School at this time?" the sheriff continued politely.
"You may address me," Ororo said.
The man paused a moment, taking in Ororo's appearance, noting the mohawk and black leather.
"What brings you to our doorstep on this chilly evening," Ororo prompted.
The sheriff shifted. "Ma'am, do you mind if I stepped inside? You're right, it is a bit cold."
"Of course," Ororo said and opened the door more widely.
The sheriff and the dog entered to stand in the foyer as Ororo shut the door. The man cast his eyes about. The banister was strung with garland and a large fir tree stood nestled in the curve of the staircase. The dog sniffed towards the office door, wagged its tail slightly. Logan eyed the dog warily. The canine licked its nose and looked at him, ears pricked, but demeanor calm.
"Thank you, ma'am," the officer said. "Looks like you've got the place decked out for the holiday."
Logan was impatient with the small-talk. "Are you looking for a charitable donation? Because we took some gifts down to the station two weeks ago for the Christmas drive."
"We appreciate that, sir," the sheriff said. "I'm here on a civil complaint."
"Then what's the dog for?" Logan asked.
The sheriff didn't directly answer the question. "Is there a man calling himself 'Remy' here? Or perhaps 'John'?"
Ororo blinked. "Remy, yes. I am afraid he is not here at the moment. Is he...wanted for some purpose?"
"I had a report of an alleged assault on your premises," the sheriff told her. "A concerned party reached out to me. I wanted to invite the young man down to the station. To see if he wished to press charges."
Logan's mouth opened and closed. "We'll send him your way if he turns up," he finally said.
The sheriff looked at Logan skeptically. "This is a quiet neighborhood," he began. "When I receive complaints, nine times out of ten, it's about this School. Now, I understand if you value your privacy and need your space. Perfectly willing to give you all the space you need. But when a member of this community comes forward, one who has an instinct for picking up on when people are in trouble, then I am inclined to believe her. She told me she'd found the kid on the side of the road, with a nail in his leg and his clothes shredded. Do you have an explanation for that?"
Ororo's lips compressed. "My apologies, sir. We are also concerned for our...student's welfare. He was here just this morning, but has made the decision to return home."
"That's convenient," the sheriff said, his voice flat.
Ororo continued: "We sincerely appreciate your visit. I am afraid we do not have any further information at this time."
"You don't mind if I take a look around…?" the sheriff began. Logan made to immediately protest when the dog let out a bark, looking at Xavier's office door.
The sheriff looked to see what had caused his canine to react.
"Here," Logan said suddenly and produced the playing card from his back pocket. "Here's the kid's address. This is where he went."
The sheriff's attention returned to Logan. He looked at the playing card. "New Orleans, hunh? Well, I don't blame him for heading to warmer weather. You wouldn't happen to have a phone number?"
The dog barked again. Logan shot Ororo an alarmed glance. The office door opened. The big dog panted, gave a tiny leap. A reddish-brown canine pushed through the office door. She looked about, spotted the police K-9 and trotted forward.
"Easy there, Chip," the sheriff told his dog. "Wow, that's some dog. Looks part-wolf. What is it?"
Ororo said quickly: "We are not entirely certain."
"Ah, adopted then. She friendly?" the sheriff's expression had turned soft and amicable.
"Very," Ororo said. She eyed the young New Mutant, wondering what the girl was up to. In her wolf form, she was known as Wolfsbane. As a young girl, Rahne Sinclair.
The two canines sniffed each other, then Chip lowered his forequarters in a show of play. "Ah, come on then, boy. No flirting. You're on the clock," the sheriff said with a grin.
Wolfsbane leapt up to put her forepaws onto Logan's chest, looking him in the eye. She glanced downward. There was something tucked in the holiday bandana tied around her neck. Logan removed it, a scrap of paper. On it was a note: 'Henry. Brother.' And a phone number. Logan guessed the area code was for New Orleans.
Logan cleared his throat and lightly pushed Rahne down. "Down, girl," he said awkwardly. "No jumpies." He fished in his pocket again, making a show of finding the scrap of paper. "Yeah, phone number. This is the kid's brother."
The sheriff accepted the phone number, returned the playing card. "Alright. I'll be following up. This kid of yours-?"
"He is a young man, twenty-one," Ororo said.
"Hm, yeah. Okay, young man. He in his full mental capacity? He's not, needing some help, able to act on his own faculties? No designated legal guardian?"
"No, nothing like that," Logan said. "He can take care of himself." Mostly.
The sheriff nodded. "Alright. Just want to be aware of any odd behavior. In case one of my people runs into him."
"Thank you, sir," Ororo said. "We wish only for his safety."
The sheriff nodded. "We'll keep an eye out. You happen to have anything your student may have left behind, something that he might've used? I brought Chip along on a practice run. Our newest tracker. He's a newbie."
Ororo hesitated a moment before turning to the staircase. The sheriff took a knee and held out a hand to Wolfsbane. She obliged him by allowing the man to scratch her scruff. "You look like you'd make a good recruit," the sheriff told her. "Clever lady, aren't you?"
Ororo returned from her trip upstairs with a folded pillowcase. "Here you are," she said.
The sheriff took the cloth. "Thank you, ma'am. C'mon, Chip, enough with the goo-goo eyes. You folks have a Merry Christmas, if I don't see you before then."
Ororo smiled and closed the door. When the cruiser pulled back down the drive and turned onto Graymalkin, they turned to the office door. Magnus stepped from the room into the foyer.
"I'm going to go back out to his apartment," Logan said, pulling his tan suede and fleece coat from the hall closet. "See if I can't catch him before he takes off."
"I will join you," Ororo said.
"I would like to know what Gambit told this informant," Magnus said, "who would send the local law enforcement to our home. Do you think this is his idea of a joke?"
"You can stay here, hold down the fort," Logan told him. "We'll talk to Gambit."
Outside on the front step they decided to take a vehicle into town. Logan was willing to run through the woods to get there, but he guessed Ororo might come to regret her inability to fly or control the weather. In the garage, they noted that the car Rogue typically used was missing. Remy's battered bike had departed with him that morning.
"Rogue has been absent since just after breakfast," Ororo murmured. "I wonder where she could be? Last minute Christmas shopping?"
"That seems like something she'd do," Logan said. "Unless she's out looking for Remy, too."
They took the Jeep Cherokee, since it had four-wheel drive and the roads were getting slick in a fine mist of sleet. They drove into town, the colorful lights of holiday decorations reflecting off the wet car windows.
"You did not mention Remy giving you his address," Ororo observed.
"He didn't seem too keen to share it. Wonder how Magnus ended up with his phone number?"
"A good question."
Logan nearly missed the driveway leading to the apartment Remy had rented. He backed up and reversed into the drive. They could see a light on in the room above the garage. "Looks like he might still be here," Logan said.
The pair stepped from the Jeep. Walked up the driveway towards the steps. The main house beyond the garage was dark. The garage door itself was open, Remy's bike was inside. Otherwise the garage was empty. Logan put his booted foot to the first step. His sensitive ears detected a sound, like an injured animal. He cast his senses about. He smelled Remy...Rogue too. He didn't know what to make of the sound. It came again.
"Wait here," he told Ororo. Slowly, Logan climbed the staircase. The sounds grew louder as he approached the door. He swallowed.
Were those kids fooling around again? Like a couple of rabbits, those two. Logan shook his head. He thought to descend the stairs when he heard a scream. It did not sound like an "Ah'm having the time of my life" kind of scream. It was more like an "Ah'm in a considerable amount of pain" situation.
Wolverine cautiously peered through the window in the door. He did not like what he saw therein. With a growl, he kicked open the door. It broke from the hinges to fall into the apartment. His claws sprung from his knuckles.
A low light emitted from a nearby lamp. Remy sat on the end of a bed, his ankles crossed in a display of casual disinterest, dressed in a white shirt, dark uniform, black boots. Rogue was on the bed, lying immobilized and missing half of her clothing. She appeared to be very badly burned. Remy appraised Wolverine coolly. "It appears you have caught us once again, en flagrante delicto," he said in a bored tone.
"Logan!" Rogue screamed from the bed. "That isn't-."
"Do be silent. I find your voice grating on the nerves," Remy said, and a burst of white and pink energy crackled over Rogue's inert form. She screamed again.
The sound made the hair on Wolverine's arms stand to attention. Filled with rage, he threw himself at Remy. Wolverine found himself quickly flying in the opposite direction, falling over the back of a couch to crash into the coffee table, destroying it.
Wolverine was instantly back on his feet. He did not leap a second time, but stared hard at the man before him. Remy's eyes were no longer black and red, but bright and pupilless. That morning, it seemed only one of his eyes had blown out like a broken taillight. Now Wolverine was starting to realize it was an indication of something seriously amiss. This man's pattern of speech sounded entirely wrong. Remy's words leaned against one another like companionable drunks. This man's words were clipped, annunciated, and stood like a regiment of soldiers.
"Who are you? Sinister?" Logan guessed. "Or is it Essex?"
The man smiled at him coldly. "You may address me as the former. The latter I reserve for my...patients."
"What did you do to Gambit?" Wolverine asked, stalling for time.
"As I informed your female compatriot, I have taken possession of the thief's body. He remains, for now, within my mind-a prisoner."
"How? How did you do it? We thought you were destroyed."
Rogue was struggling on the bed and Sinister's attention was momentarily diverted. "Be still. I do not wish to kill you just yet. It is a pity I failed to delay my own gratification this morning," he shook his head ruefully at himself. "Not that I would have gained any satisfaction from you, other than what your misery would mean to LeBeau."
Wolverine knew he stood little chance of taking Sinister on in combat. He'd seen what Gambit's powers could do, what they did to the bodies in the Alley. "How did you do it?" he repeated. "You're some kind of telepath, too?"
Sinister returned his attention to Wolverine, but his expression was one of distraction. Rogue kicked a foot and sent a pillow flying to land at Sinister's feet.
"Vulcan mind meld," Sinister-not-Sinister said abruptly. "Now I have Pa'nar Syndrome."
A look of intense fury passed over Sinister's features. "You-idiotic...juvenile-."
"I want chicken, I want liver, Meow Mix, Meow Mix, please deliver!" Sinister-not-Sinister sang.
Wolverine watched with confusion as Sinister put his hands to his skull, made a sound of disgust and irritation.
"Meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow!"
Rogue attempted to sit upright and collapsed onto the floor. Wolverine thought if he could reach her, she could absorb his healing abilities. Sinister stood between them, however.
"Remy!" Rogue called in a raw voice, coughed as her voice cracked. Wolverine saw her throat ringed with bruises. "Fight him off!"
"You will return to your vault, you stupid boy," Sinister hissed.
Remy stood abruptly straight, placed a hand over his heart and recited in perfect Parisian French: "'Et je m'en vais...Au vent mauvais. Qui m'emporte. Deçà...delà. Pareil à la,'" he bowed his head in a show of dramatic sorrow: "'Feuille morte'."
"Your suffering will continue," Sinister informed him. "There are any number of victims. Your father? Your brother? Your dear, devoted wife?"
Remy ignored him, extended his arms to his sides and in quick rapid speech fired: "The-devil-up-in-yo' grill and you still don't-even know 'em!...Show 'em..who's the OK...Like collard greens and hoecakes...I got soul, that's something..that you ain't got. That's why your style is rot-ten!"
Wolverine was carefully inching around Gambit now, or whoever was in control. He appeared to be locked in an internal struggle that caused him some paralysis. Wolverine was still several feet away from where Rogue lay. She looked up from the floor. One of her eyes had swollen shut. Her lips were covered in blisters. She wore no shirt, and her bra hung loose on one shoulder, her breast exposed. Her jeans had been pulled halfway down her thighs. Wolverine felt sick, wondering how long this torture had transpired. He had half a mind to stab Sinister in the back now, doubting somehow that Gambit would mind. Wolverine reached toward Rogue. Sinister spotted them. His focus was no longer diverted on two opponents, but the both of them together.
"Shit," Wolverine said and was promptly blasted through the window nearest the door. Wolverine sailed like a burning comet to the ground below, hitting the ground with an explosion that shredded his clothing, took portions of his skin from his body. His hair was on fire. Wolverine doused himself in snow, injuries burning as he began to heal. He had to get back up into the apartment. He had to save Rogue.
Wolverine had a moment to realize the Jeep was gone from the drive. He just had to keep Sinister occupied for a few more minutes. He leapt and landed halfway up the wooden staircase, launched himself back through the window above. Sinister was dragging Rogue by the hair to some kind of glowing portal. Wolverine leapt onto his back, his weight driving Sinister's appropriated body to the ground. Wolverine stabbed his claws into Sinister's shoulder, pinning him to the floorboards. Light blazed from the wounds and Wolverine quickly felt his metal claws grow painfully hot. His flesh began to cook from the inside out. Wolverine thought to plunge his other set of claws into the man's skull. He wondered if that would mean Gambit would die. Likely, being controlled by Sinister was no way to live. He raised his fist. Rogue caught him from behind.
"Please, don't," she begged.
Sinister threw Wolverine from him and he landed atop Rogue. She grasped his bare hand in her own. Wolverine felt her powers kick on, she was absorbing him. At least it would give her a chance to heal, to be able to fight back. He rolled himself away as Sinister stood over them. Once again, he seized Rogue, silenced her with a jolt of energy through her arm. She hung limply in his grip and he proceeded towards the portal.
The dormer window exploded inwards. Sinister paused for a moment just before he was struck with a telekinetic bolt. He staggered backwards, Rogue was jerked across the floor.
"Ah," Sinister said with a gloating grin. "It is the original. Returned from the dead. How...delightful."
Marvel Girl tore the dormer from the roof, floating above the scene below. "I have him," she said, and Sinister was momentarily frozen.
"You do not," he said and slipped through space. Rogue's limp form seemed to stretch, but then slid through space as well, following him.
From the yard below, Wolverine heard Shadowcat cry: "Fastball special!" and she was flung through the open doorway. Shadowcat landed on the wooden floorboards and ran towards the portal, phasing through Sinister as she did.
"Kitty!" Wolverine called a warning. But Shadowcat did not pass through the portal. Instead she turned in a roundhouse kick to pass her leg across the door. The thing flashed and with a shower of sparks, deteriorated.
"Ha ha! Mechanical!" she declared and punched the air.
"Ah, cripes," Wolverine staggered to his feet. What if the damn thing had been magical? Or something else? Her leg could've been off!
Sinister made to strike Shadowcat, his form glowing suddenly a bright white. She sank through the floor and out of sight. A humming rumble shook the apartment. Sinister turned back towards the open doorway. Outside, Magneto floated in midair, hands to his sides, inviting an attack. Sinister finally relinquished his grip on Rogue. He turned to meet the Master of Magnetism. His red eyes blazed.
"Miss Jean Grey," Sinister said. "I advise you to create a telekinetic barrier and protect yourself. Your cohorts are about to meet a very final and gruesome end."
Then Sinister's form lit up entirely, blindingly white save for his eyes, like two red pits. Sinister strode forward towards the open door. Wolverine attempted to throw himself at Sinister once more, but found himself rebounding off of an energy field. He was forced backwards and out onto the wooden staircase landing as Sinister marched forward. The glowing mutant came to a halt just before the broken doorway. Marvel Girl was attempting to waylay him again with her telekinesis. She let out a scream of effort, her hands held like open claws at her sides.
Sinister glanced behind, smiled. "Do not despair, my dear. Your friends will experience a glimpse of the infinite before they are destroyed utterly. I have -."
"A lovely bunch of coconuts!"
Sinister momentarily dimmed and staggered backwards.
"Stop-!" Sinister snapped.
"In the naaame of looove!"
There came an angry snarl and Rogue, now with some of Wolverine's abilities and partially healed, threw herself across the room to crash into Sinister from behind. Wolverine had a fraction of a moment to leap from the wooden staircase to land in the snow below. Rogue propelled Sinister to the ground, face-first. An arc of light burst from Sinister, sending Rogue flying end over end into the garage. The cinder block wall buckled and Rogue landed on the ground as debris rained down around her. Colossus, who had thrown Shadowcat through the doorway earlier, ran to where Rogue had fallen. Wolverine suddenly felt his bones vibrate and ache. Colossus, in his metal form, staggered. Sinister and Magneto were locked in a battle now. Crackling bolts of explosive kinetic energy flared over Magneto's protective field. The yard and surrounding woods were lit in strobing flashes of light. Wolverine was forced back. Colossus returned to his non-metal form, and pulled Rogue from the wreckage, trying hard not to touch her exposed skin. Wolverine could not see where Marvel Girl or Shadowcat had gone.
The energy field around Magneto had begun to close in on him, nearly crushing him. Sinister stared Magneto down, face expressionless in concentration, his focus entirely on Magneto.
"You have been a thorn in my side from the start," Sinister informed Magneto as he found himself constrained in a smaller and smaller space. "I will thank you, however, for driving LeBeau from the house. For finally giving me the opportunity-."
Gambit announced: "There once was a Doctor from Essex, Who had no sense of professional ethics. Sold his soul for a farthin', His cock in the bargain. Now he can't pass on his genetics."
Again, Sinister was distracted, infuriated.
Magneto pushed back, giving himself space to move.
"Get away, y'damn fool!" Gambit told him.
"Not just yet," Magneto said as Sinister assumed control. Once again, the two powerful mutants grappled in midair. Magneto grimaced: "My purpose...is to serve as a diversion."
If Sinister was capable of showing surprise, he would have done so then. Suddenly, Nightcrawler appeared in front of Sinister, and Wolverine could see the elven man was protected by a TK shield from the volatile energies surrounding him. He slapped something against Sinister's chest, pressed a button, and with a cheerful wave, vanished just as quickly as he'd appeared. Sinister fell from the sky, hitting the ground on his feet. He fell to his hands and knees. From out of the shadow of the garage, Storm dashed forward, seized the back of the inhibitor harness and locked it behind Sinister's shoulders. Before he could turn on her, Storm had already danced back and away. Sinister staggered and fell to his side as the inhibitor engaged. He landed in the snow and Wolverine leapt upon him.
Hands gripping Sinister by the shoulders, he snarled into the man's face: "Let. The kid. Go."
Sinister's expression was one of fury. He struggled under Wolverine's considerable weight. "I think not. If you wish him to live, you will release me-now."
Wolverine raised Sinister up by the shoulders and slammed him back into the ground. He raised a fist and unleashed his claws. "Let him go, or you'll get a taste of what you did to Rogue."
Sinister drew in a breath, but it was Gambit who spoke. "Logan, finish it!"
Wolverine hesitated for a fraction of a moment. "Sorry, Remy," he said quietly before driving his fist into Gambit's chest.
Next time: "Don't be mad. At Logan," Remy said. "I asked him. To."
Random References:
Vulcan Mind Meld - Star Trek
Meow Mix jingle, obvi
Chanson d'automne is a poem by Paul Verlaine.
Translated final verse:
And I go.
In the ill wind
Which carries me
Here, there,
Like the
Dead leaf.
Devil up in your grill, Lyrics from Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, OutKast
Lovely Bunch of Coconuts by Danny Kaye
Stop in the Name of Love - Dianna Ross & the Supremes
There once was a doctor from Essex - Original dirty limerick by Remy LeBeau
