What Someone is Willing to Give
By: Vainglorious696
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Disclaimer:
Gambit, the X-Men, Essex, and anybody else that you probably recognize is Marvel's. Sin, Dr. Kiltchner, Madeleine, and any
unfarmiliars are mine. Please don't sue me, Marvel- I'm poor. Besides, I spend
more $ on your comics than any lawsuit could possibly ever win.
This is a
brutal story containing graphic violence, MATURE
THEMES, and dark imagery. You
have been warned, therefore, please use your discretion accordingly. Thank You. ~Vain
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Professor Xavier was looking out
of the window of his study with a slight frown on his face. His mind roamed the psychic plane tirelessly
as he searched for Gambit's mental signature. He had sent the Cajun out on a
private mission over two weeks ago and hadn't heard from him since. While Remy was known to vanish occasionally,
he had never done so for this long after a mission. The rest of the X-Men, except for Logan, were unaware of Remy's
job and were beginning to ask questions. The situation was not helped by the fact that they were noticed the
Professor's growing concern over their missing teammate.
There was a soft knock on the door. Xavier pushed himself away from the window with a soft sigh and directed
his chair over to the heavy desk. "Come
in, Logan."
The stocky Canadian entered the room with a grim expression on his face and
shook his head before the Professor could even ask the question. "Nobody ain't heard nothin', Chuck. I've checked with some of his connections,
some of mine, and more than a couple of dependable people that we both know,
and there ain't been so much as a peep where the kid's concerned. It's liked he dropped off the face of the Earth,
or something, and we ain't the only ones who've noticed."
"I, too, have not had any luck my friend." Xavier steepled his fingers in front of his face and closed his eyes
wearily. "This is not like him to go so
long without contacting one of us. Particularly
when he knows that we're looking for him."
Logan walked over to the window that the Professor had just vacated and
extended his long adamantium claws, watching as the light glared off of
them. His voice was a growl. "I don't
like this. Somthin's wrong."
The Professor opened his eyes and regarded the other man thoughtfully for a
moment before speaking. "Perhaps we should tell the others."
"He wouldn't like that- you know how he feels about his 'privacy.'"
"I know, but we don't have
much choice anymore. This is simply
unlike him."
Logan turned to face Xavier, "You
sure about this, Prof? When he finds
out that you let the rest of the team in on your little arrangement…"
"Yes, I'm well aware of the
consequences will be. Call everyone
together and tell them to meet me in the War Room in an hour."
The hairy man nodded and left
without a word. Xavier turned and went
back to the window. "Where are you, Remy?"
*****
Logan stood in the corner of the
war room and watched the rest of the X-Men fidget in their seats. All of them were there, including Beast and
Cecilia, who were usually hiding somewhere in the lab. They all knew that this had something to do
with Gambit as well. Scott's face was
set in the perpetually angry expression it had worn whenever Remy's name was
mentioned for the past week. Bishop,
Iceman, and Kitty mimicked his sour expression. The four of them were starting to get on the stout man's nerves,
particularly since they were unaware of the situation. Most of the other gave off scents that
smelled of varying degrees of worry, but nearly everyone felt that something
was wrong.
Marrow, Storm and Rogue had taken his disappearance the worst. The night that he went out he told them that
he was going "clubbing," his usual excuse when he was working, and had promised
to take Sara to the movies the next night. When he hadn't shown up she was angry at first, but that anger quickly
turned to apprehension as time progressed. Storm was so worried that she had gone for almost a week without
watering her plants, and the mansion had spent the last several days beneath
foreboding clouds and a thick fog. Rogue and the kid were currently broken up, but she had spent the last
two days in her room with a box of Kleenex, blaming her behavior on a head
cold, despite her tear streaked face.
Logan pulled out a cigar and put
it between his teeth, although he refrained from lighting it after Jean favored
him with a cold glare. The cigar was a
hand rolled Cuban with enough nicotine in it to kill an ox after one drag. Gambit had gotten him two whole boxes of
them last Christmas after he lost a bet to the feral Canadian. Logan had been
nearly awed by the smoothness and obvious quality of the cigars, which were not
only illegal, but also nearly impossible to get for any price in the States.
Remy had only given him a cryptic wink and his signature grin when asked how he
had managed to obtain such treasures. Treasures? he had laughed. I have got ta start takin' you out wi't me more! The Canadian agreed and the two of them
promised to take a Black Sheep Night just for them. That was a promise that Logan intended to be sure that Remy kept.
The Professor's chair hummed softly as he entered and let out a small sigh when
he halted. The others quickly stilled
and devoted their full attention to their benefactor as he started to speak.
"What I say to you now does not ever leave this room. You are not to tell anyone anything about it
without my express permission, particularly Gambit himself. If you do not think that you can handle that
then I must ask you to leave; am I understood?"
There were whispers and a slight stir as the X-Men digested those words. Cannonball was the first to speak. "Whatevah ya got ta say, sir," he
drawled, "I think that you know that you can trust all uh us and we'll do
whatevah ya need us to."
Nods and murmurs of ascension followed this statement.
Charles smiled slightly. "Sam, I
trust you all implicitly. You have
proven yourselves more that worthy to be members of my X-Men. However, right now I am speaking for Gambit,
and I cannot say the he is as comfortable with you as I am."
Silence. Charles waited to see if
anyone would move or protest, but they all remained, waiting for him to
continue. He looked them each in the
face individually as he spoke, his sentences terse and to the point.
"Two weeks ago I sent Remy out on a mission with orders not to tell
anyone. He was going to investigate some rather disturbing rumors circulating
the underworld and I knew that his specific skills and techniques would be
necessary. The job was routine and
fairly simple, for him at least. I
remained in contact with him on the astral plane until he reached his
destination. Shortly thereafter he was
attacked and forced me out of his mind, erecting his shields so tightly that I
could no longer even locate him on the astral plane. He did not allow me to reestablish contact with despite my
repeated searches. Since that time
Logan has been out searching for him every night, but we have heard
nothing. He has vanished. Gone without
a trace."
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