Note : Still at it! Just to make sure you understand, you have to put a few days between the differents parts of this chapter… it's streched on almost a week… The next chapter might not be up until a few days though… Vacations are over, back to work (the one that brings money in the bank account). Don't worry thought, it should take more than a few days! Thank you soooo much for the reviews, please, please, please do continue. Disclaimer : characters aren't my creation, except for Gabrielle who's mine, they are the property of Columbia Pictures. Yeah.

Enjoy.

Chapter 22

Miaow

He sighted and burried his hurting head in his hands. He sat in the empty kitchen. It was six in the morning, but he had been sitting there for a few hours, unable to fall back asleep. No wonder. He heard a small metal squeak and snapped up his head to meet black eyes. Gabrielle was the other side of the tabble, tilting her head with a small smile. The Professor had worked very hard to get her out of her transe, and she had made incredible improvement. She still couldn't walk, but she said a few words once and a while. She did so now.

"You sad?" He made a febble smile and forced himself to look happy.

"No, just a lil'tired. I'm fine, Gabrielle." She smiled, he was the only one to pronounce her name correctly, with a French accent. She shook her head though, not believing him.

"You sad… Is Rogue?"

"Non, no problems with Rogue… I've had a very wicked dream, is all." He sighted. Gabrielle had small empathic powers, just like him, though she didn't had the mental shield he had to keep the other's emotions out of her head, explaning the transe in which she had put herself into. He couldn't hide from her. She frowned and tilted her head the other side. He hated it when she did that. It made her look freaky.

"What in dream?" He stared at the black eyes, surprinsingly expressive now that she was normal, or almost.

"I dreamed about Sinister, Gabrielle… nothin' to be scared about." She didn't seem to agree with that, though, and her eyes went round with surprise.

"Sure important! Tell Prof!"

"Non! Non, Gabrielle, please don't tell'im. It was just'a dream." He stood up and she looked up at him. She bit her lower lip very hard and stared at his eyes, and finally nodded.

"You careful. Tell me dreams again."

"I'll tell ye, promis."

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

I woke up and automaticaly streched an arm to touch Remy, and sighted, feeling the space empty beside me. He was beginning to worry me, getting up very early in the morning. He had dark circles under his eyes and was turning grumpy, and he was very aggressive in the Danger Room sessions. He hadn't made Scott mad in the last few days, which was worrying me and the others very much. The Professor had tried to talk to him, but he had dropped down all doors to his mind, training all day and obviously reluctant to come to sleep.

I had been scared to get married, to see things change between us. Now we've been married no more than a few weeks, and I was alone in my bed half the time. Often someone would find him in the kitchen, staring through the patio door as the sun came up, head burried in his hands. He had frequent headaches. He simply wasn't himself anymore.

I looked at the alarm clock, 5:32. I got on my feet and threw the blankets on the sleeping purring cat, and head downstairs to the kitchen. Sure enough, he was there, looking outside. He didn't look at me while I walked to him, and didn't flinch when I put my hands on his shoulders. I didn't talk. I didn't try to get explanations from him. I simply looked outside with him, watching the sun rise and the dark sky turn red as the world awakened. The small cuckoo clock on the wall coo-cooed six times, and I squeezed his shoulders a bit. I wasn't letting go today, leaving him. He felt it, and sighted. He leaned his head back to rest on my chest, and closed his eyes. I felt a deep tremor run through his whole body, and I leaned down, putting my forehead on the top of his head.

"What's wrong with yah, Remy? Yah're scaring me like hell, acting like that." He reached up, crossing his arms to put his hands on mine, and gently squeezed, sighting again.

"Don't worry, chérie, I'll manage."

That didn't comfort me a bit.

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

There he was again, pinned on the cold floor, unable to move. His breathing was difficult, and his back hurt. The red eyes flashed, a wicked smile hovered near him. He closed his eyes, trying hard to wake up. Though this time, it didn't work. He panicked, what was going on? The red eyes came near, and he saw Sinister's smile an inch from his face. He tried to jerk back, but the back of his head only hit the cold cement, sending stars in front of his eyes.

"You really though you could get away so easy, Remington?"

Panic was seeping through his veins. Something was wrong. He should have been able to wake up, like the other times.

"You're mine, now."

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

"MIIIIIIAAAOOOOWW!"

The chocolate cake I was eating with delight was destroyed by a lion-size black and white cat with a black patch on its nose, and the mist of sleep slowly faded as I awakened. I opened my eyes to feel weight on my chest and golden eyes glaring down at me. Damn cat, destroying my dream cake.

"What the hell's wrong with yah, cat?" He just howled again, his voice extremely loud in my ears.

"MIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOWWW!!!!" I sat up, wondering what was going on with Remy's fearless beast. He seemed to have transformed himself into a giant squirrel during the night, his tail gone huge and the furr on his back standing up in a little cat mohawk. His ears were flat on his head and his claws were burried in the (thick, thank God) blankets.

"What's wrong, kitty?" I reached up to pet him, but he jumped off me, climbing on Remy's chest, and miaowed again, still looking like a puffed out sea-urchin, his eyes huge and round with fear.

I blinked. Remy? Asleep? I pushed the cat away, and gently shook his shoulder to wake him up.

Nothing.

His breathing was slow and regular, but something was wrong. He never slept still, always stirring a bit. Now he laid still, straight like a plank of wood, his arms each side of his body. His lips were straight, without his usual light sleepy smile, and his brows were drawned into a small frown. He was very pale, alarmingly pale. I clapped my hand, hard, on his chest, and yelled in his ear.

"REMY!!!"

Nothing.

The cat climbed back on the bed, sat on Remy's stomach, and miaowed again. I gulped, hard, then nodded to the cat and got up, running out of the room to get some help.

To be continued…

Woohoo! I could continue, but I'll stop here. I'm beginning to like cliffhangers… gives you the time to figure out how to get your characters out of the s* you've put them in…