The day was blessed; at least in the eyes of Storm it was, certainly it was more welcoming and warm than it had been in days. And on that day for the first time in two weeks she sat up in her prison of a bed, threw off the lightly draped sheets from her body and made to get up, placing the stiffened black soles of her cold feet onto the colder still tiled floor gently with all the intents of standing.
That blessed sun poured freely in through the windows of the sterile room, the sun heating Storm's slightly arched back and making her smile a smile so rare in her, a calm, genuine smile, free of mockery or sarcasm.
She didn't like her control over the weather; she preferred that nature took its own free willed course such as on days like this. But that was her gift, or her curse, depending on what way she looked at it. Today she looked upon it as a curse; nothing, not ever she, should be allowed to disturb such warmth and comfort. In a sense it was because of this potential in her to destroy such peace and harmony that she was afraid almost of her 'gift'.
There was no one around. Hank, a man Storm had grow quite fond of in her short time here, had gone with Rogue on orders of Charles to investigate some business. As an offer Rogue had asked if Phoenix wanted to follow along with them and she had quite eagerly agreed on the proposition. Rogue, because of this had, in a good mannered tone, called her a natural born X-Man. Storm was still deciding whether that was a good thing or not.
But for the moment all related thoughts were gone and she focused solely on savouring the peace and freedom to finally get a chance of moving off this God forsaken bed.
With her calm blue eyes she looked down at her stomach and lifted the black and gold cotton t-shirt that covered it. Her fingers moved over the firmly placed threads of bandage across the two deep knife wounds, touching on them tentatively.
She still cringed with the pain when she thought back to that night and she still felt fury towards Mr Ransom for what he had dared to do to her. In her mind he was a dead man walking, pure and simple.
Her slim fingers began to pick at the ends of the bandage willing it to break free. She wanted through reluctant curiosity to see the scars that would stigmatise her against any man eager to pay for her again. In a way her worthless career was more than likely over.
As she pulled harder at the threads, the thought causing her eyes to rim with cold spiteful tears, the dressing tightened and she took a sharp and short intake of breath, pain coursing through her abdomen like water.
"Holy…"
"So now you see why Hank say, 'Don' touch de bandages?'"
Her livid whitened eyes snapped up sharply to the entrance door of the medical room and locked onto the one she knew only as Gambit, and annoying, and arrogant, and cocky…
"What do you want?"
She was trying to conceal the horrible pain with anger but failed miserably. Her eyes remained that discoloured milky white and her face tightened as the tall devil-like man walked forward.
"You okay chere?"
Now she was able to sound angry. "Je suis tres bien merci, now go away."
The man smiled, almost laughed, and his eyes possessed a flicker of crimson in amongst the shadowed black. With his hands thrust into the pockets of his black duster coat he sat at the end of her bed with her and continued to smile sadly, shaking his head and allowing a fringe of dark brown to cover some of his eyes.
"Now you know dat's aint true mon ami. Though you probably don' 'member ah'm de one dat carried you all de way from dat alleyway to dis 'ere mansion. An' by de time ah'd laid you on dis 'ere bed ah could've rung de blood from your wounds outta ma t-shirt and filled a wine glass wit' it. So you keep tellin' you'self you okay only two weeks after dat, you gonna end up dead, plain an' simple."
He watched her face twist into an expression of injured pride. Still, she spat back with that pride and building anger.
"Well I'm never gonna get any better 'less I start moving. And no better a day to start than this eh, mon ami?"
Her eyes dropped away from his and she stared intently at her feet more determined now to get up than she had been not five minutes ago.
Sitting further back Gambit allowed a small smile of amusement stretch his lips as he watched the tempered African beauty begin her vein attempts at standing.
But the smile was wiped in a second as Storm felt her knees protest painfully under her weight and as a result collapse beneath her.
She fell hard with an agonising cry and a roll of thunder to accompany it.
"Now ah know you aint okay. Here, let me help—"As he jumped off the bed and bent down slightly to offer a hand to her she pulled away sharply, the pride fiercer than ever. But her eyes were dazed and hurt, shameful almost. The voice that followed was quiet and shy.
"Leave me alone."
Gambit shook his head in pity. "Can' just leave you lyin' der chere, let me help. No one's watchin', promise."His gloved hand came under her eyes and she looked at it warily. This prompted him to push further. Gaining her trust was more important to him than she would ever understand for the moment.
"You don' remember, do you?"
This raised her eyes up to meet his secretive ones.
"What?"
"No, ah didn' think so; take ma hand."
The stern glare in his reddened eyes, the eyes that had been grinning not more than a few minutes ago, took her aback, almost making her cower from him. It was because of this that she took his support and let him pull her up back onto the bed.
The pain in her stomach tightened again and she almost doubled over, but she would not allow her weaknesses to show. Instead she challenged his unyielding glare with her own unflinching blue eyes.
He wasn't particularly helping the argument for her to stay in this mansion; he and Charles, not for the moment anyway.
"Okay you destroyed my pride now answer my question: what?"
Without being asked Gambit sat closer beside her and clasped his hands together sighing in a tired fashion. Then he laughed.
"You'd never believe me if ah told you, too much of a coincidence even for me to bear dat you finally here."
Storm frowned irritably. "Stop with all the bullshit, what the hell you on about?"
Again Gambit smiled. "You know ah'm not even sure if ah believe it. We don' exactly look anything alike or anything, you know? Ah'm white as white, you're black as black…"
Storm's slightly gaping mouth never got as far as to make a noise in response when the awfully timed interruption came barging through the doors.
Gambit quickly regained his chilled, carefree aura with a suppressed grin at their intruder.
"Ah, de infamous Logan, so finally you two meet—"
"No time Cajun, Patrol's on their way."
Gambit's eyes widened then flashed sparks of black red. His cheek drained of their little colour and his spine chilled with the fine hairs on his neck rising to their full possible height.
"No…"
Logan nodded gravely. "Yes. Rogue just phoned ahead, she saw their jet flyin' our way. We gotta go."
The Cajun's horrified eyes turned to Storm who in turn of hearing the news had dropped her defensive façade of pride and now looked genuinely scared. Gambit turned back, her look almost too much for him.
"How long we got?"
"Just about no time."
So now was the time to stop worrying and start moving. In one fluid movement Gambit was up and Storm in his arms. She did not protest, instead her arms wrapped around his neck for a leverage of comfort.
Logan took the lead, making his way out with Gambit not more than a few steps behind. They ran until they met Charles half way down the corridor that would bring them to the front entrance. But the main doorway was not where they were going.
Storm found that when they confronted Charles her eyes wound not meet his kindly ones and with that she felt shame in herself.
But there was little time to go on feeling this way as a sharp loud bark produced from down the hallway bringing her back to the terrifying present. Logan looked like he could have screamed.
"That fucking dog!"
There was really no time though. Charles (who was fully aware of Storm's shame) stepped up to the left side of the corridor and with one well aimed fist, and surprising strength for one so old, hammered into the wall bringing up a 'backdoor' of sorts that opened the way to another underground walkway. Gambit was in first followed not soon after by Charles and just as Logan reluctantly followed in at the rear a dreadful crash and a sickening yelp signified the arrive of the infamous Patrol.
Gambit looked down at Storm in what could only be described as the greatest pity a man could show in his eyes.
"Get ready to find out what it's like to be an X-Man, ma soeur."
She had no time to replay to this either as he bolted down the new corridor with her held closely, protectively, at his chest.
Logan and Charles stayed at the entrance. Whether it be because they were going to act as a human barrier against the Patrol Storm didn't know, she didn't really want to know. There was a great feeling of guilt that lay in amongst the sharp pains of her stomach. After all that they had done for her, and how she had repaid that with spite and sarcasm, and now by bringing the Patrol here; it was a wonder Gambit didn't just abandon her there and then.
But what he had said, 'ma soeur'…
Her trail of thought was violently broken though as something thundered overhead making the walls shake and the roof peel off layers of dusty plaster.
The guilt was replaced by fear now…of the dark…and collapsing walls…cold…dark…
"Storm?"
Gambit's pity and concern became evident in his hushed voice as he brought her away from the past.
"Huh?"
"You okay?"
She looked down at her hands and saw them shaking as ruthlessly as the walls around her. Even though he would know it, she lied.
"Eh, yeah, I'm fine. Why've you stopped?"
It was only now that she realised he had come to stand at a crossroads of sorts.
The underground passage now resembled that of a snake's tongue; one long pathway branching off into two thinner forks of sorts.
"Ah'm waitin' for de other two."
She looked back down the corridor with him then watched nervously as the walls continued to threaten their stability.
"Gambit."
It was the first time she ever used his name.
"Call me Remy."
She sighed. "Remy, I think they wanted us to go…without them, get away."
His hesitation was painful to watch. "But—"
"Remy, come on."
He teetered on the spot for a couple of seconds more, then without a word he took the left fork and carried on his escape with his charge.
To say that was one of the hardest things he had ever done would be an insulting understatement. Rescuing Rogue was the only other thing that ever came close.
Close. So close. He is so close.
Pain shoots through the back of his head streaking his vision with stars but the bundle in his arms keeps the selfish need to rest at bay.
Just a few more yards. But she has gone limp. Is it over, is she gone? Was this all just a pointless act of loyalty in homage to her?
But she is not gone. So very close to it yes, but she has enough in her, she does. If she, she could just, hold, on…
"Rogue!"
Her mind whipped itself back to the present minute where Hank lay at one side of her and Phoenix at the other. Where she is safe, as safe as it gets anyway when the Patrol are mere hundreds of yards from you.
They watched helplessly at the brow of the hill that overshadowed the mansion as the one Rogue called Cyclopes destroyed the front door with a blast of red light and allowed his team to begin invading the house.
Obediently they went, well all but one.
His nose was to the air and his black eyes scanned feverishly for the source of the familiar scent carried by the light winds.
Beside her Phoenix felt Rogue tense and guessed from that reaction that this was the one she called Sabertooth. Hank confirmed it.
"Sabertooth."
He spat the word, so much anger in it for one so young. It disturbed Phoenix a little.
"The one that—"
Rogue nodded then hushed the red head.
~He'll be able to hear you. ~
Phoenix flinched as Rogue's voice bore into her mind but Rogue no more than shifted in her position on the grass on her belly. Reluctantly Phoenix 'spoke' back.
~What about the others? ~
Her mind was agonisingly silent for a second that felt more like an hour.
~Gambit will get Storm out, don't worry. ~
~And Logan and Charles? ~
This time she didn't get an answer.
What she did get was a sense of the purest terror from the young girl as Sabertooth turned and faced the three dead on.
"We're dead."
Rogue with Hank went to get up, no doubt to run, when Phoenix stopped her by taking her forearm.
"You know if you'd give me a minute then I'd show you why I'm called Phoenix, it's not just a pulling name you know."
Rogue didn't read the secretive smile across the bold woman's sharp green eyes; it was a look only Storm could read.
She got up and set herself in clear view of the beast. With insane bravery she laid down her challenge.
"Come and get me you cowardly bastard! Come on, come meet a woman who can hit back!"
Rogue looked as if she could have killed Phoenix there and then with no hesitations. Cyclopes gave commands and Sabertooth was released.
"Phoenix, for God's sake! There is no way—"
"Rogue please, I need to concentrate."
The young mutant looked mortified, to be polite about it. Hank, who possessed a little more faith, took Rogue's arm and brought her close to him, holding her comfortingly.
Phoenix stood tall in front of them, her body tense but her face set in determination. She watched with no visible fear as he came closer, thundering up the hill with alarming hunger in his soulless black eyes.
It wasn't until he was mere feet away and Rogue was almost in the process of soiling herself that Phoenix struck hard and fast with something no one saw coming.
It erupted from nowhere, bursting into life before its master and taking on the form of seven feet of flames and angry cries. A bird was what Rogue dared to call it but it was so much more than that, 'bird' was an insult.
Claws of black flame amidst the wave of vibrate oranges and reds reached forward and raked the face of the undefeated Sabertooth, scarring and scorching him with ferocious rage.
As Phoenix's hands reached forward into the vivid crimson heart of the creature its wings spread and its black beak called out for all to hear in a deafening and threatening tone.
White embers fell like a heavy rain shower landing gently on Rogue and Hank, warming their skin and easing their hearts.
Amidst the screeches and temper of the creature, Phoenix called out with a fierce fire blazing behind her narrow green eyes.
"So next time you decide to go hammering into a girl who don't want it come speak to me and we'll rationalise that way of thinking."
And on that word the fiery creation was gone and what was left was a deadly foe that would do no one any harm for quite a while.
That impressive and life saving display did come at a price however.
Hank leapt forward as Phoenix stumbled back and caught her in his impossibly large but gentle hands.
"One is impressed Phoenix."
As she sagged in his hold and gave herself the liberty of a few minutes rest to compose herself Rogue stepped forward warily standing over the charred body of Sabertooth.
"No doubt he's still alive but this is probably the closest he'll ever come to death. Which begs the question Phoenix, what the hell was that thing?"
Gathering her strength she sat up with the aid of Hank and smiled wryly.
"Well here's where I say, 'and hence the name Phoenix'. I'm not actually very sure myself but she comes in handy when me and Storm can't afford the heating bills, or if we're being chased by maniac pimps…"
Rogue pushed her no more.
Of course the display had not gone unnoticed. Although now there were only three Patrol members left and it seemed Cyclopes could only spare one other member, as Phoenix would learn, where the Patrol were concerned one was enough.
Remy was starting to worry Storm. His constant stopping and agitated muttering suggested to her that he quite simply did not have a clue where he was going. She chanced to voice her concern.
"Em Remy?"
"Shh."
His eyes were narrow and his ears almost appeared perked as he strained to hear a noise Storm couldn't.
"It's her."
Those two small words, those six letters, had to be the worst sound things she had heard since she had met these X-Men. Not because she knew who 'her' was, just because of the fear Gambit injected into it.
"Her?"
"Shh!"
He had come to a definite stop now.
Then slowly, reluctantly, he put Storm down. She fumbled with her balance and he helped her stand until she had gained some degree of posture.
"Keep goin' down dis passage den take a left an' you're out. Rogue should be waitin' for you somewhere nearby."
She wasn't sure if she was believing what he was saying, ordering, to her. Her immediate response ended up a nervous laugh as she clutched the rough stonewalls for further support amidst the toppling pain.
"You are kidding right?"
He simply glared at her.
Then she heard what he had been straining to listen for. Footsteps, light and quiet, nimble and well placed. Steps that belonged to a person with no mood to muck around in a fight, or a job she was on.
"Go, now!"
Storm didn't and Gambit almost shoved her down the corridor. His final response to get her on the move was to revert back to his quick references earlier.
"As your brother, ah order you, okay? Go!"
Tears hit her eyes without her even feeling the emotions that came with them. Whether it was through the shock or the numbness that Storm went in the end she would never know, but she did as he demanded and began the painful process of making her near to blind way down the dark damp corridors.
Leaving him became one of the most painful acts she ever committed, except painful was a grave understatement of her guilt.
Being who she was, her way of life, her morals were the only things that rivalled the guilty pain.
But she did leave him, and forever from that day onwards never left another soul she cared for alone again.
((Chapter seven up as soon as I've thought of it. Soon anyway, hopefully…))