What Someone is Willing to Give
By: Vainglorious696
_____________________________
Vain: Hi. In case you care, the Kaiser is going to be fine. Although Essex has been muttering stuff
about cloning and replicating DNA . . .
Remy: Didn't you
have somet'in ta say, chere?
Vain: Oh, yeah! FYI: I have no intention of making this
NC-17. Well, actually I did, but I
decided to yield to the whims of my fans.
Remy: You are so
kind, chere . . .
Vain: Well, you
don't need to be a bitch about it.
Remy: . . .
Vain: Um . . .
Rems? Beloved? My first muse and dearest inspiration . . .
why is your face twitching like that? Remy? Remy? Put down the bo staff, sweet. Aaahhh! Wormmon, Help Me!
Wormmon: (uses his
digimon attack) Spinning Thread!
Vain: Um . . .
Wormmon, please let me down.
Remy: I t'ink ya
look good in spider webbing, chere.
Vain: This isn't
funny guys!
Remy: 'Specially
stuck ta de ceiling like that!
Vain: You just wait,
Cajun! My fun with you has only begun!
Ken: Shouldn't you
let her down?
Kaiser: Shut up,
Ken.
Vain: And you had
better wipe that damn smirk off your face, Kaiser!
Kaiser: Ooh! I'm scared now!
Wormmon: Don't
worry, Ken. The web will dissolve in a
few hours. . . . I think.
Vain: How can I
write like this?!
Sinister: Dictate.
Vain: When I get
down from here, I swear I'm gonna torture you all!
Remy: An de
difference would be?
Vain: I hate you.
Remy: No, ya don'.
Vain: Yes, I DO.
Remy: Don'.
Vain: DO!!
Ken: *sigh* Here's
Part 7. Please R&R
Remy: Don'.
Ken: . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PART 7
He hurt. His body hurt. His head hurt. His mind
hurt. And the pain was so bad that it
took nearly what little strength he had not to scream. Of course, given his current condition, he
wasn't even sure if he could scream.
The thief known to the world as Gambit opened his eyes very quickly, testing
the light. When a flash of pain did not
follow the experiment he opened them all the way. Merde. C'est qui m'est arrivée?* After trying to move and finding himself in five point restraints,
he looked around cautiously. The last
thing he remembered was… Sin. Non,
just don' go dere, boy. Not now. Not yet.
The room was small, clinical, and Spartan. Dominated by his narrow hospital bed, the chambers dim lights revealed
medical machines humming and what appeared to be a small chemical lab on the
wall to his left.
Definitely not de mansion.
Mansion? What mansion? Now where had that come from? Suddenly memory hit him like a physical
force.
Stormy. Essex. But Sin... No dat was almost six years ago. Sin. I killed Sin. Oui. . . after I escaped. Non, was rescued. By. . . Non! Dat's over! Won't do dat again! Won't be
dat! Where'm I? Dieu, comment je suis arrivé ici?** He closed his eyes in an attempt to
stop the throbbing in his head. Dere
were whispers- rumors- spreadin' t'rough de Mutant Underground. A scientist stealin' gene-jokes off de
streets. Xavier wanted me ta take a
look. T'ought dat Essex was
involved. T'ought dat I'd know Essex's
pattern and
whatnot. Watched. Waited. Listened to people who'd know 'bout dis stuff and got an address. An old house in Queens. I was supposed ta wait for Wolvie, but dey
had a kid wit dem, so I followed dem in. Had ta be sure dat de femme était bien, mais somehow dey knew I was dere
et. . . What de hell happened?
"Well, well, well. I see my favorite patient is awake. And how are we today?"
The man's voice was sharp and mocking, and Remy craned his head in an attempt
to get a better look. Pain shot through
his body.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. I'm
afraid that my men had to be rather rough on you. Also, you seem to have suffered some slight.. . power-related
mishaps. Don't worry, though, I assure
you that you have been most enlightening."
The man came into view and Remy studied him carefully. He was an older man with brown hair streaked
with gray. However, he wasn't as old as
he looked, his vibrant hazel eyes sparkled with life and he moved with such
skill and confidence that it came close to
being grace. Life had aged that tan
skin far more than time. He was wearing
a brilliantly white lab coat and holding a clipboard. The detached curiosity on his face was nothing new to the Cajun;
he had seen it on a far different face. But still, there was something odd
about the scientist. He knew this man.
The recognition wasn't cognitive, but instinctive, his thief's mind struggling
to implement old habits despite his disoriented state. The scientist appeared to notice his mental
struggle.
"You recognize me already?"
Remy made no response.
"Ah! You truly are a superb specimen. No wonder Essex kept you close to him."
Essex… Memories. A scalpel. Pain running through his entire
body. Essex told him, "It's
alright. This is necessary. You are safe with me…" Safe. Safe? No, he would never be safe
again. And this man… He had stood over him that first experiment,
apron bloodied, scalpel ready: "He is truly a superb specimen, sir."
Pain or no pain, Remy tried to scream.
**************************************
* Shit. What's
happened to me?
** God, how did I get here?