One Wild Night

Disclaimer: Characters and Premise are borrowed from the Marvel, I'm not making any money.

Part 2

Remy tried calling the mansion a second time, worrying a little and wondering why no one, not even the answering machine, was picking up. After ten rings he hung up and dialed New Orleans.

"Tante Mattie, it's Remy... Oui, I had a good trip. Now dough mon ami got hisself into some toxin. De idiot won' let me take him to a doctor. So I was wonderin' is dere anyt'ing I ought to do? Or how do I know when to say de hell wid it and drag him off to de hospital no mattah what he say?"

Remy listened carefully nodding as he took her instructions, after several minutes he thanked her and went to collect the things he'd been told could help.

As Remy left the grocery store a nightmare figure descended from the sky. Pale, ghostly skin with a bluish cast, feverish blue eyes, burning with fury, shining metallic wings as cold and deadly looking as blades, the being who stood before Remy looked every inch an Angel of retribution.

"Destroyer, betrayer," the angel intoned. "You will suffer for the lives you ruined."

Staring into that anger-ravened visage Remy's mouth dropped open in disbelieving recognition. "I don' know what yo're talkin' 'bout M'siuer," he said.

"Lying demon," the angel's voice cracked like ice breaking beneath an unsuspecting skater. "How many did your devil's tongue charm into giving themselves over to that monster?"

"You've mistaken me for someone else," Remy said coldly, stepping around the angel to continue on his way.

The angel moved in close behind him, wrapping his deadly wings around them. Remy repressed a shutter at the feel of death against his skin. "Do their faces haunt your dreams?" he whispered in Remy's ear. "Trust me, they will."

Then in the blink of an eye, with a rustle of feathers that sounded more like the rasp of a blade being sharpened the angel sprang into the sky, leaving Remy to stare after him.

"Mon Dieu," Remy cursed. "What de fuck did he do to yo' Wings?"

****** ****** ******

Peter woke up from his nap feeling much better, whatever he'd been hit with seemed to have worked it's way out of his system.

He waited impatiently for Gambit to return, wanting to thank the other boy for his trouble but worried about the ever-latening hour and the possibility of Aunt May worrying about him or grounding him again when he did get home.

Time passed slowly in the dilapidated subway car with nothing to do but think about how late it was getting and wonder if Gambit were even planning on coming back at all.

After a few minutes of pacing had convinced Peter that his legs weren't in danger of giving out on him again, he dug a notebook out of his backpack and scribbled a quick message to Gambit then started for home.

Once he'd made it back to the surface Peter pulled on his day clothes and caught a bus, "Wouldn't it be fun to figure out I'm not all better ten stories up?" he muttered to himself. "I can see the headlines now: Spiderman's dangerous antiques result in the death of teenaged imitator. Jamison would love it."

****** ****** ******

After a long, convoluted trek that was guaranteed to throw off the best tail, Remy descended into the tunnels with his purchases.

During his trek he'd tried calling the mansion several more times. He'd also borrowed the comm. gear at the hospital he'd raided for medical supplies and tried raising the Blackbird or any of the X-Men's badges that way, but they were either out of range or not able to answer and Remy was starting to get seriously concerned about his friends.

He hiked back through the tunnels to find the subway car empty and a folded note taped to the window. The packages Remy was carrying hit the ground with a thud as he felt an ugly sense of deja vu twist at his gut.

"Should nevah of brought him here," Remy muttered to himself. "It ain't safe, yo' know it ain't safe. Mais dere was no one after him, leas' no one dat wasn' tied up at de moment. Dere was someone after yo' dough... Oh merde... Dis is m' fault, gotta find him."

Without bothering to read the note, Remy took off for the surface at a dead run. Exiting the subway he quickly glanced around, picked the tallest building and set to work on it's lock, not caring if he set off the alarms or not.

As soon as he was inside Remy started climbing toward the roof amid blaring alarms.

" 'M here Wings!" he yelled emerging onto the roof. "Come get me!" He pulled a card from his coat, charged it and tossed it in the air like a signal flare. Then he hit the fire escape. A few floors down he launched himself across to the neighboring building, working his way toward the city's highest skyscrapers.

Ten minutes and several challenges later Remy heard a whisper of metal on metal and felt a wave of hatred. "So you do know me after all," a cold voice said.

Remy turned to see the vengeful angel hovering above him. "Yo' got no right!" Remy yelled. "He ain't part of dis, he barely knows me! Yo' leave him out of dis!"

"What are you raving about?" the angel asked.

Remy felt a blush staining his cheeks. " 'M guessin' yo' ain't de one who took mon ami, hein?" he said. "Let's say we forget 'bout dis an' go 'bout our business."

"You have no friends, just people you use," the angel accused. "People who's trust you abuse."

"Yo' don' know rien 'bout me," Remy said angrily, heading for the fire escape. "An' I don' have time for dis!"

"Right, you need to find your 'friend'," the angel said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't you mean victim?"

Remy hit the roof, diving under the angel's attack. He twisted as he fell, throwing a lightly charged card to knock the angel away then scrambled down the fire escape.

Three floors down he dodged behind the ladder to escape another attack. "I don' wan' to hurt yo', so cut it de hell out!" Remy yelled.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" the angel asked, using a wing to slice through the ladder.

Remy dove for the next level down. A card impacted against the angel's chest knocking him out of the air. "I warned yo'!" he yelled.

****** ****** ******

Peter lay in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. "What if he got in trouble," Peter thought to himself. "He said he was coming back."

"Not like I'm sleeping anyway," Peter sighed reaching for his costume.

Several minutes later Spidey was making his way back into the city.

"I probably won't even be able to find that place again," Spidey muttered under his breath. "Of course if he's there, he doesn't need my help, but where else am I going to start looking."

Spidey found the subway entrance where he'd exited then started wracking his brains for the path to the abandoned subway car.

****** ****** *******

The narrow alley didn't restrict the angel's freedom to maneuver nearly as much as it should have Remy thought resentfully as he dodged behind a dumpster, wincing at the shriek of protest as unbelievably sharp wings cut through the heavy metal container.

Remy tried chasing him off by projecting fear into his mind as he'd done to Scrambler, but his powers bounced off a barricade of solid hatred. The intensity of the emotion precluded feeling anything else.

Even though he'd only intended to use his powers to project emotions the backlash from Remy's brief contact with the angel's mind was enough to leave him stunned.

The angel took advantage of Remy's pause, grabbing his wrist in a bruisingly hard grasp and winging skyward. Remy felt his shoulder joint protesting the abuse, but it all happened so quickly that they were clearing the buildings before he had a chance to react.

Moments later whether or not to struggle was a moot point, even if he managed to land on a roof-top Remy knew the fall would still kill him.

"Do you like feeling helpless?" the angel hissed. "Being at the mercy of one who has none?"

The angel let Remy fall only to catch him again a moment later by his ankle.

"At any moment you could die," the angel continued conversationally. "There's nothing you can do to change that. Any moment for weeks, months, years! Two years of waiting to die in agony! You can't even comprehend what you did to me!"

Remy's stomach leapt into his throat as he began to fall again. He forced himself to relax into the fall, trying to slow it as much as possible, giving himself every chance to survive. There was almost no chance and surviving the sort of injuries he was bound to suffer might be a fate worse than death but Remy didn't know how to do anything else. Questioning the coast of survival had never been a luxury Remy could afford.

Closing his eyes as the pavement rushed toward him wasn't his style, so Remy knew exactly how close he came to death before being snatched into the air again with a force that knocked the breath from his body.

"That would be too easy," the angel hissed as they rocketed over the streets. Then the angel dove into a subway entrance. He tossed Remy roughly across the ground. The boy rolled a few times before gaining control of his momentum.

"Does this remind you of any place?" the angel demanded, standing over the kneeling boy. "Do you remember the Morlocks or are there so many victims in your past that the face blur together? Do you remember Mike, little Michelle; you were her first crush. She loved your eyes, thought it gave you something in common. Of course she only looked like a demon."

"M' memory is fine Wings," Remy said still struggling to recover his breath. "Yo' got a point or yo' jus' like to hear yourself talk?"

"I want you to understand what you did!" the angel said angrily. "I should have know it was impossible for one of Sinister's creatures to feel remorse."

"Yo' ought look in de mirror 'fore callin' me Essex's creature," Remy spat, feeling bruised, battered and generally fed up with the situation. He didn't have the time for this now.

The unthinking taunt sent the angel into a blind rage and Remy found himself pushing his reflexes and agility to their limits to avoid a hail of knife-like fletchlets flung from the angel's wings.

The angel was about to initiate a second attack when a sharp tug, similar to what a fish on a line might feel, yanked him backward. He turned, a casual flick of a wing severing the line and saw a slight young man in a bright red and blue costume opposing him.

"Back off birdie!" Spidey exclaimed, placing himself between the two. "He's a friend of mine."

"He's the herald of Satan," the angel replied. "A fact you'll learn to your regret if you extend him your trust. He destroys everything he touches."

"So says you," Spidey replied. "I mean I know he saved my life and I can see you attacking him."

"I would have protected you," the angel said. "But if you're already so lost to his wiles I'll go through you to ensure that you are his last victim."

"Non!" Remy cried as the angel launched another barrage of fletchlets at them. Spidey could have easily avoided the attack but he didn't get the chance. Remy shoved him to the ground and sent a handful of cards flying to intercept the daggers.

It almost worked, but when the air cleared Remy was bleeding profusely from a gash across his temple and one of the blades was embedded in his arm, a red stain slowly forming around it.

Remy's eyes blazed angrily. "Yo' won' hurt no one on m' account, comprendras!" he yelled driving the angel back with another fan of cards.

Warren frowned at Remy in confusion and Spidey hit him with a blast of webbing. He kept layering on the sticky substance until the angel was well and truly glued to the subway wall.

"Even with those ginsu knife wings it's going to take time to cut free of that mess," Peter thought. "Come on Gambit," he said. "We'll leave him for S.H.I.E.L.D. or someone to pick up."

Remy nodded distractedly. "Yo' don' understand what was happenin'," he told Warren. "I was only tryin' to help people. I don' want to hurt yo' but I won' let yo' kill me. An I don' care how screwed up yo' might have gotten or who's to blame, yo' don' evah threaten mes amies again, d'accord?"

****** ****** ******

Peter finished bandaging Remy's arm. "I guess it's my turn to ask if you want to got to the hospital," he said.

"Non," Remy replied settling back on one of the benches in the abandoned subway car. "No reason to bother dem for a little scratches like dese."

Peter made a sound of disbelief. "Yeah right, those are nothing to worry about and loosing Mulder didn't hurt the X-Files." Off Remy's look he added. "And I'm the pot calling the kettle black. Okay it doesn't look like you're going to bleed to death so it's your choice."

Remy nodded and the two settled into an uncomfortable silence.

"So... um... what was with that guy?" Peter asked after a few minutes.

"Don' want to talk 'bout him," Gambit said shortly.

"You didn't... you aren't..." Peter began awkwardly, not feeling much like Spiderman at that moment, despite the costume.

"I ain't a monster," Gambit said. More quietly he added, "I jus' worked for one once. I didn't know."

Silence descended again. After a time Gambit got up to leave. At the door he paused. "What'd yo' do wid m' pack?" he asked carelessly.

"Nothing why?" Peter asked, then exclaimed. "You're not going back for that statue!"

"An' m' tools, dey ain't cheap yo' know," Gambit replied with a shrug.

"Gambit, you stole that thing, it doesn't belong to you," Peter protested.

Gambit glanced over his shoulder and Peter caught a gleam of a predatory smile. "If I stole it, it mus' be mine, else what's de point?"

"Look, with your powers don't you ever think maybe you've got a responsibility to be better than that?" Peter asked.

"I helped save de femme tonight. I saved yo'. I help where I can, when I know I am helpin' not makin' t'ings worse. I don' hurt no one if I can 'void it. I don' owe de world more dan dat." Gambit said with solid conviction. "Yo' gonna try to stop me?"

"No," Peter sighed. "Not tonight anyways. For all you know the statue's worthless."

****** ****** ******

"Peter you seem tired this morning," Aunt May said watching him plop into a chair at the breakfast table. "Are you feeling alright? Did you go down to the lab after I went to bed?"

"I'm fine, just didn't sleep too well," Peter said. "I just... I thought I made a friend the other day, we had a lot of stuff in common..."

"But?" Aunt May asked.

"Yeah," Peter sighed. "There's always one of those isn't there?"

Aunt May gave him a sympathetic smile before picking up the Daily Bugle. "Oh not that dreadful Spiderman again."

Hiding a grimace Peter went to read over his Aunt's shoulder. The thought "Why me?" popped into his head as he saw the headlines about Spiderman being seen near the scene of a museum robbery. He choked on the bagel he was eating when he saw that the missing statuette had been estimated at a value of $50,000.

****** ****** ******

Remy paid the taxi driver, swung his duffle bag over his shoulder and whistling cheerfully he started toward the mansion's front steps.

"Hey! C'est Remy," he said activating the intercom with a brush of his elbow. " 'M back!"

Without bothering to waiting for a reply he let himself in.

For a long moment Remy simply stood there in the stripped lobby. Gradually his duffle bag slid off his shoulder, when it hit the ground Remy started at the hollow echoing sound it made.

"I guess askin' if any one be home would fall under de category of a stupid question," he said sounding lost.

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