APOCALYPSE

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Author's notes: First of all, this chapter is divided in four. Different from previous chapters, this one shows four different perspectives of the same night, in order to let you know where everyone stands. This would be the end of the official first part of the story, or the beginning of the second. It's your call. The first part of the first part (notice the redundancy) is not original, not entirely. I tried to transcribe the first few lines of dialogue of UXM # 341. Of course, that presented a problem. What you'll read is actually a translation of a translation, since my comic books are in Spanish. The rest I wrote on my own, all by myself, I promise. I should apologize in advance. My portray of our beloved, blue and furry doctor will come across lamely, I fear. Dear Dr. McCoy is my Achilles' heel. His speech patterns are too original and genial for me to capture correctly.
Another thing. There is a new character. Do not fret, she will not interfere with the dynamics of the rest of them. I myself am not a big fan of new characters, but this one was absolutely necessary, and since I created her myself, I kinda like her. :)
Now read!

CHAPTER SIX:

SILENT NIGHT

The huge christmas tree glittered behind them on Time Square, the atmosphere was merry and the X men known as Beast, Bishop, Cannonball and Joseph, accompanied by the news reporter Trish Tilby, weren't able to ignore the joy around them. That year had been very trying, but they seemed determined to put their troubles aside for one night.

"Considering that this Christmas eve we've decided to distract ourselves from the difficult situation of mutants in general, and the X-men in particular..." stated Dr. Hank McCoy, with a smile on his holographic inducted face. "Who will come to diner with me, holo-inductor included, and the very tempting Trish Tilby?" the young woman blushed slightly and smiled.

"Very tempting?" she whispered. Joseph shook his head tiredly.

"I guess I could come along." He said bitterly. "It's not like I have anything else to do."

The newest addition to the X-men smiled and retrieved a long list from his pocket.
"I will join you in the restaurant, sir. There's a few things I want to buy for my brothers and sisters. I'll just go to a toy store and buy them. It can't be more than five minutes. See you there!" Sam waved his hands and ran away. Hank smirked.

"Suuure! Five minutes." To Trish he added. "We'll never see him again." She giggled.

The big, intimidating soldier cleared his throat, with a severe, but troubled look on his face.
"Do I have to think of a polite excuse? Or is it enough to say that with everything that's happened lately, I was hoping to spend the evening by myself?" he said with a little more emotion in his voice than what he was used to.
With all that had happened that year, he still have a harder time coping with the latest events. He wouldn't admit it, but he'd been a little disappointed when the traitor turned out to be Xavier. Not only because now he didn't quite know his place in the world; though that was what tortured him the most. He had always half expected the traitor to be Gambit. When he learned the truth, he saw the Cajun with new eyes, and found that he was starting to like him. Now, he just didn't know what to think. Had he made a mistake? Would Gambit still betray the X-men, causing their deaths and his future? Somehow the young Cajun didn't strike him to be the traitorous type anymore, but his confession proved him wrong. Didn't it?

"We appreciate your sincerity, Bishop." Hank's voice brought him back to earth.

They said their good byes, and the three remaining headed to the restaurant. The younger man sat down at their table silently, seemingly miles away.

"Why so gloomy, my anticlimactic friend?" Hank asked, holding Trish close to him. Joseph shrugged.

"This is not how I expected my first christmas to be. It is, you know? My first christmas. I don't remember the other ones."

"She'll be back, you know that. Why not try and enjoy this glorious occasion to the best of your ability? I assure you; tomorrow morning, when we open our presents, you'll forget your predicament and be as happy as a toddler." Joseph just shook his head.

"I had a present for her, sort of. But I'm sure she wouldn't want it now. Not from me, anyway."

"Ah, I see you are jealous, my friend. Our own ambassadors of the south go a long way. You cannot expect her to let him go so easily. You must understand..."

"I do." Joseph cut in. Hurt witen all over his face. "She loves him. I can understand that, and I can almost wish her to be happy with him, if it didn't hurt so much. But I don't trust him. Never have. He'll hurt her, I'm sure."

"You don't seem to like our Acadian friend all that much. I can understand that he doesn't provoke the greatest of impressions; but I've known him for an extended period of time now, and I've come to realize that the young man indeed has, under his distorted little mind and presumptuous personality, a good set of ventricles."
Trish smiled upon seeing Joseph's confused look.

"He has a good heart." she clarified. Hank nodded energetically.

"My sentiments exactly, Trish."

"How can you say he has a good heart?" Joseph asked a little annoyed. "He was involved with Sinister and the massacre! He admitted to it himself!"

"Now, now. Listen to yourself, Joseph. I would be the first one to concede to you that the Cajun has a questionable moral. He is, after all, a thief at heart, if no longer at practice. But would he make that confession to us, even if it was in writing, if he didn't have a conscience? His methods may have been reproachable, leaving like that didn't show him on the best of lights, but his intentions were noble."

Joseph stubbornly shook his head.
"I don't trust him."

Hank just sighed and redirected his happy and elaborated conversation to a new topic.
"Do you think Sam will find his way home in the middle of the hell of department stores?"

An explosion was heard from the distance, then another, and both X-men made their way outside, ready for battle. They caught a glimpse of Cannonball and a big, blue guy Hank recognised immediately, bursting out of a hole they'd made on the wall of a shopping mall. Hank lowered his head and sighed in frustration.

"I believe this particular celebration will have to be postponed for another time." Trish hugged him and smiled sadly.

"X-men never rest, right?"

"Precisely." Hank replied, and started towards the scene.
---------------

The fireplace was on, and Jean cuddled closer to her husband. They'd shared a private candlelight dinner, exchanged a few presents, and now they were just enjoying each other's company. Still, Scott didn't seem to be able to relax,

"This is nice." She said, and rested her head on his shoulder. He tightened his embrace.

"It is indeed." He whispered, kissing her forehead. "I was grateful of the opportunity of spending this particular christmas alone with you. God bless Hank."

"Yes, I agree wholeheartedly. We need a rest, a time out. After all that's happened."

"I still can't believe it." his tone showed his frustration. "The professor's gone, Gambit's gone. After Onslaught I knew things would never be the same, but this is ridiculous."

Jean frowned.
"Aren't you glad he's gone? Gambit, I mean." Scott sighed and shook his head no.

"Jean, of all people, you were the last one I expected to be acting like this. Why are you so angry with him?"

They had discussed it to exhaustion. She understood that it had been a mistake of his past, that they had to wait to hear his explanation, but she still seemed to hold a deeper grudge than even Storm herself, who was starting to come around. Jean shook her head.

"I don't know Scott. I trusted him, you know? I really liked him. Why didn't he trust us?"

"I can't answer that for him, but I can imagine a few reasons. It was obvious from his letter that he feels guilty about what happened. If things happened the way he said they did, it must have been really hard for him to cope with what he'd done."

"But why didn't he trust us?! Didn't we show him that we were trustable?"

Scott smiled. His wife might have been shutting him out of her mind, but he needn't to read her thoughts to know what was happening. After all, he knew her better than anyone. He cupped her face and spoke to her in his kindest tone.

"Sweetheart, is that it? Is that why you are so mad at him? Or is it that you are mad at yourself for not showing him enough that you were trusty?" he cheered inwardly seeing her shocked face, followed by recognition and a shy smile.

"When did you become a psychologist?" she teased.

"I just know you very well. I love you." he leaned towards her, and kissed her softly on the lips.

"You're still worried, though." She said when the kiss broke. Scott sighed.

"How wouldn't I be? Gambit takes off mysteriously, Logan and Rogue are following him to god knows where, Warren is acting funnier than usual. And it's all on my shoulders. Not to mention my brother going crazy. No! I can't have personal problems, not if I'm the leader of the X-men! Now I understand the professor going nuts and murderous." Jean laughed.

"They aren't making it easy on you, are they?"

"No, they absolutely aren't." He pouted. She laughed again and hugged him tight.

"My poor baby. I'm glad to know how much you care about them, though. If anyone is up to replace the professor, that's you honey. And he knew that."

"I'm not so sure anymore. But thank you."

They enjoyed the rest of the evening in silence, relieving on the peace around them and the peace the other would bring to their hearts.
----------------

The jeep parked outside the motel, but neither of them got down. Rogue stared at the clouded sky, watching the snowflakes falling to the ground. Logan, for his part, was lighting a cigar and taking in the air's scent. Rogue huffed.

"Ye know we ain't gonna find him like this, doncha? Ah told ya we should have brought the blackbird. We don't even know where he went! How are we supposed to find him?! Why didn't ya let me ask Jean to use Cerebro to look for him?"

Logan grinned.

"Ya don't understand it, doncha kid?"

"What do ya mean?"

"I do know where he went, at least, what road he took. This way I can follow his scent. I wouldn't be able to do that on the blackbird. Ya heard Jean, kid. Gumbo has a powerful mind. Most likely, Cerebro wouldn't find him; and even if it did, I don't want the others knowing where he is. It's better if we let them cool of a little."
She sighed.

"Well, now that makes sense."

"'Course it does. I always do." He said smugly. Rogue's eyes flashed thunder.

"Ah'll erase that stupid grin of yer face in a second, Wolverine! Ye seem to be having a great time, 'ere in the middle of nowhere! Why, it's very amusing to be spending Christmas eve in a sleazy motel with the likes of ya! I would have found him already if I didn't have to carry ye along!" she spat. He laughed.

"Girl's got a temper, that's fer sure. I'll buy ya a present if ya behave, kid."

"Why did ye come anyway?! Ah told ya, ye ain't hurting him, ah ain't letting ya get yer dirty claws on him." For the first time since they left the mansion, Logan's face lost the amused look, and he frowned.

"I won't hurt Gumbo, kid. I...I needed to come along. I don't know why, I just did." Rogue sank in her seat.

"Why? What do ye want with him?" she didn't sound angry anymore, but truly interested.

"Told ya, I don't know. Maybe he has the answer for that. I have the feeling he does."

"Ye too, eh?" she sighed. He looked up at her, startled.

"'Me too', what kid? What are ya talkin' about?"
She bit her lip.

"Since Israel...well, Ah've had all this dreams Ah couldn't understand. Now they're starting to make sense. We have to find him, ye know? He needs me."

"I know kid. Don't ask me how I know it, but I do. I have to take ye to him, and I will. Safe and in one piece."

They both remained silent, staring at the sky and snow. Finally, Rogue smiled at Logan and spoke.

"About that gift, sugah. What will ye get me?"

"How 'bout an annoying Cajun with a red bow around his neck?"

"Sounds good to me, Logan. Merry Christmas, ye know?" she said sweetly.

"Marry christmas, kid. Now lets go check in before we both turn into pathetic imitations of an ice cube."

"OH! That reminds me, we should call Bobby to wish him a merry christmas, with his dad and all."

"Ya call Bobby, I'll call 'Ro."

"Deal!"

They picked up their duffel bags and slowly walked into the motel.
------------

He'd made it to Chicago in record time. Barely stopping on the way for gas, food, and distressed sleep. He wasn't tired though. Nor hungry. It was as if a force bigger than his own was giving him strength to go on.

Now that he was where he thought he supposed to be, he let himself rest. He was still a little baffled about how much control he had over his new powers. The empathy he understood. It was just his charm power with a little more strength. But now he was telekinetic and telepathic too. God only knew why.
He'd practiced reading people's minds on one of the stops he'd made. He wasn't really interested on Jimbo, the gas station's cafeteria guy and the hidden depths of his mind. They were limited to dirty fantasies about the blonde at the counter. The blonde's thoughts were more interesting, since they were about him and a certain part of his own anatomy. But he was pleased to notice that he had complete control over his new ability as well as his anatomy.
Now he was unpacking his clothes on the bed of his new residency entirely with his mind. It didn't even cost him. It was almost natural for him. He grinned a little smugly, watching in amazement while the clothes folded themselves with no effort on his part. He could feel the power growing inside of him. He started imagining all the uses he could have given those abilities during his thieving days, but shook his head.

"Dat would 've been too borin'."

The itch that he'd always carried, the one that made him ache for a little game, returned with a vengeance.

"Mebbe Remy could go check de attractions of dis city. Mebbe stop to admire a little art at de museum, mebbe take some art home, non?" he smiled excitedly and grabbed his coat.
He needed a distraction. If he stopped long enough to think, he knew where his thoughts would drift to, and he refused to get sentimental. His first impulse when reaching his room had been to call Stormy and Rogue, but he knew it wasn't his place anymore. He'd lost that right. Then he thought about calling Jean-Luc. He was still debating on that, and he would have done it, if that hadn't reminded him that he did not have a family to celebrate christmas with anymore. But he was pushing those thoughts away. What he couldn't push away was the feeling that something was amiss.
He'd left his friends, his love and his home, doing what he'd thought was right; but since he'd left, he'd had the feeling that he was missing something, something of the grand plan someone had made for him. And the first thing that always popped to his head was Rogue.

"I couldn' ask her to come wit' me...not dat she would have after knowin' what I am, but..."
It had been the danger he sensed in his future. He wasn't dumb, he knew that he was going to face something that was probably too much for him. He also knew he had no choice, but he wasn't putting Rogue through it. No matter how much he felt he needed her. He wasn't hurting anyone anymore.

The streets were packed with people carrying gifts. There were lights everywhere he looked. The city streets screamed christmas right to his face. He smiled inwardly. Who'd have thought that the cynical street kid, who wouldn't have hesitated on picking Santa's pocket if he'd had the chance, would have ever get such a thrill for the merry season? It had became his favorite time of the year. He wasn't even affected with the holidays' depression everyone else talked about. Not even now, lonely and on a strange place. He'd had his share of bitter christmases to last him for a life time.
The singing group of people in the opposite corner, filling the street with their carolling, lifted his spirits. He leaned on a building's wall and listened contently.
He was too absorbed on the perfectly performed, harmonic version of 'Silent night' to notice the young kid running directly towards him. He was thoroughly startled when the kid bumped into him and caused him to fall flat on his behind in the middle of the street. He did get to see the retreating figure of what he couldn't decide if it was a boy or a girl, running away with something familiar in their hand. The young kid was dressed entirely in black, matching their shoulder length hair. The slim, long, black trench coat floated around the kid, giving them a surreal look. He felt the impulse to follow them, but the kid was too far away, running too fast for even him to catch up. He considered stopping them with his mind, but something inside of him told him it would be futile. He only managed to yell.

"Hey, watch were y'r goin!" the kid turned around and stopped. It was obvious now that it was a girl. She looked at him from the other corner of the block, and he gasped. Even from such a great distance he could tell her eyes were silver and they sparkled reflecting the street lights. She surveyed what she had in her hand for a second, and then she threw it his way, with a smug smile on her face.

"Thanks so much, Mr. LeBeau!" she shouted in a thick British accent. He patted his pocket and noticed that his wallet was missing. He gasped again. She had stole *HIS* wallet?! "And merry christmas, mate!" she said. He ran after her, but she was soon out of sight.
He picked up his wallet and scanned it. His money, credit cards, everything was still there. The only thing that seemed to have been removed and placed back hastily was his driver's license.

"I'm goin' to find y', petite. None steels from Remy and leaves in one piece." He said to himself with not real venom in his voice. He was actually thrilled, feeling that itch returning. The game was afoot.
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