Dismal Angel 2010 - Episode 3

Chapter 4: Concerns

             Rogue stepped into the laboratory which was located in the sub-basement of the mansion cautiously.  The laboratory, where Henry 'Hank' McCoy could be found at most times always reminded Rogue of the kinds of laboratories from old Horror movies, as Hank liked to collect old laboratory equipment as a hobby, and had various pieces displayed around the gloomy room – each new piece more foreboding than the previous.

             "Hank?" Rogue looked around, seeing no one in sight.  She was about to turn and head for the door, deciding no-one would be around, when a very familiar blue furred face – although upside down – swung right in front of her, she gave a gasp and jumped.

             "Yes?" Hank gave a great fanged grin, his indigo eyes twinkled mischieviously.

             "Jesus, do you have to do that?" Rogue glanced up, realising he was hanging from a pipe by his large clawed feet, the long back of his lab coat hanging down behind him, his glasses seemed to be clinging on although very precariously.

             "I do apologise if I startled you," Hank swung down, landing on the floor with a soft thump on all fours, catlike, "I was looking for a spider."

             "I heard," Rogue admitted, she felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment and realised there was probably a guilty look on her face.

             "Ah, you've seen it then?" Hank raised an eyebrow, he stood up, though slightly hunched, and rested one of his large arms upon the counter, with his free hand, he pushed his glasses up his nose.

             Rogue smiled nervously, "Uhm…Remy had a bit of an accident with it," she responded quickly. 

             "Oh?" Hank seemed interested, "are you two on speaking terms again?"

             "I really don't know," Rogue answered brusquely, "Anyway, the spider is dead…"

             "Oh, that's quite alright, I have others," Hank gestured to a glass tank on the counter near his elbow, three large spiders were settled on the bottom, Rogue felt a shiver travel up her spine as she glanced to them.  "Wolf Spiders," he admitted, "incredibly brave, you know."

             Rogue hugged herself insecurely, "so…why were you mutating it?"

             "Oh, I was just curious to see if certain insects and arachnids could possibly possess the X-Gene as we humans do."

             "So why were you cloning it?" Rogue asked very interestedly, generally Hanks long speeches about his research could be the most tedious and un-interesting thing in anyone's day, but occasionally, there would be a few fascinating pieces of information that always proved to be most beneficial to know.

             "Well," Hank explained, "cloning the original spider," he opened the tank carefully and reached, carefully taking out one of the others, "allowed me to alter the DNA before it was fully grown, allowing me to apply the X-Gene…"

             The spider leapt from Hank's hands as if it were perhaps propelled by a sling, Rogue felt pretty certain no spider could jump like that, the spider landed several feet away and scuttled at top speed for the door making a hasty escape.  Rogue jerked out of the way as it passed by her.

             "Damn," Hank pouted, "that's how the last one got loose," he sighed he began to head for the door.  "The X-Gene apparently has given them some very interesting jumping abilities…"

             "Hank, before you go chasing after it, can I ask something?" Rogue stopped him by gently applying a hand to his arm.

             "Anything," Hank looked to her, putting on a confident friendly smile for her.

             "It's about Remy," Rogue put a hand behind her neck, trying to massage out a sudden tension that arrived from having mentioned his name, "I think his powers are evolving, but…he won't admit to it, I was just wondering…has he said anything to you or the Professor about it?"

             "Not at all," Hank replied, "what makes you think his powers are evolving?" he seemed thoroughly intrigued, his eyes twinkled again.

             "Every now and then…whenever someone touches him…they get these kind of electric shocks from him – they're not too painful or anything…" Rogue explained quietly, "I asked him about it, he just got all defensive.  It happened seven years ago – not just with me, but with Kitty also."

             "Interesting."

             "He always makes up excuses for it, and says stupid stuff like it's just the carpets and stuff, but I don't think it can be," Rogue explained, she realised she must have sounded extremely concerned about it, she tried to let it slide, gaining a more nonchalant tone, and an expression of indifference, "I just thought maybe you'd want to talk with him, I mean, who knows if its safe to have him in the mansion.  His powers went out of control once and someone died…" she chewed her lip, tears almost sprung to her eyes to remember that night, "I just want to make sure everyone in the mansion is safe."

             "That's certainly understandable, perhaps I'll have a word with him," Hank admitted, "now be a dear and take a look for the spider I just accidentally let loose."

             Kitty Pryde stepped quietly into the guest bedroom Remy LeBeau was residing in, a pile of clean towels in her arms for the en-suite bathroom.  The last remnants of sunlight of the day was barely showing through the gloomy room, and orangey gold ribbons cut through the slats of the blinds at the window.  Kitty looked around, no sign of Remy in sight.

             Kitty let herself into the bathroom and placed the new clean towels on the racks.  She hated doing this chore, but it was only once a month she had to put up with it, and as she and her fellow X-Men took part in keeping the Mansion clean and tidy and well looked after, meant it was easier to hide the secrets of the mansion – if there had been maintenance staff, surely the X-Men would have been exposed more than they had been when they had been teenagers.

             Kitty left the bathroom muttering to herself about hating chores, a small leather case caught her eye, it was sitting on the dresser.  It looked similar to a wallet, except longer.  She felt her curiosity pique and she picked it up, unzipped the edge to open it out like a book, inside a number of small fine silver and gold instruments.  Long, fine handles with an impressive array of jagged teeth, triangle shaped points, square shaped appendages, a small screwdriver handle with various attachments to screw onto it.

             "What's this?" she asked herself in a whisper.

             "It's a Thief's best friend," she heard the voice of Remy and she jumped, she turned to see him standing in the room with her, she wondered how long he'd been there and found it incredible she had not even heard him enter. 

             Kitty gave a little gasp, "you scared me."

             Remy walked over closer, his hands in his pockets, "didn't mean to," his eyes twinkled.  Kitty noted for the first time the man didn't smell like alcohol and he looked – and sounded – particularly sober.

             "So what is this?  A lockpicking kit?"

             "Thieving tools," Remy said, "some of them are for lockpicking, yes," he responded.

             Kitty closed the kit and put it back down carefully, "sorry, didn't mean to nose through your stuff," she blushed.

             "Everyone gotta be keepin' tabs on me, after all, I am a Thief," Remy reminded, he narrowed his eyes a little, "goes with the territory, doesn't bother me anymore," he added, although there was something in his tone that told Kitty otherwise.
             "I…heard the Professor asked you to come back to the X-Men," Kitty said after a moments awkward silence, she ran her fingers through her short hair absently.

             Remy headed towards the window nonchalantly, "word travels fast in this place," he slipped two fingers between the slats of the blinds and pried them apart slightly, staring outside.

             Kitty sat down on the bed slowly, hands on her lap, "are you going to?"

             "What do you think?" Remy replied his voice full of apathy, "I'm no more wanted here than I was eight and a half years ago when I first joined."

             "This time it's different," Kitty assured.

             "The only difference now is that I'm no longer naïve enough to even think for one minute that I could ever fit in around this place," he shrugged, "besides, too much history passed in these walls…too many bad things, too many bad memories…"

             Kitty stood up and crossed the large room to approach him, he was still staring outside as if there were something out there more interesting than the wilted gardens with their frosted bushes and lawns.  "There were also some good memories," Kitty reminded earnestly.

             "Not for me," Remy shook his head, "spent most of my time here trying to convince myself I was something I wasn't.  I'm a thief, ain't no point in trying to deny it or run from it like I did."

             "That isn't who you are," Kitty said sternly, "c'mon, Remy, you're just in a slump.  You're a good guy, we all know it."

             "No…I'm not a good guy, I'm not a good guy at all, petit," Remy turned and looked at her, "sooner you realise that, the better," he kept his eyes on her, as if searching for a reaction.

             "I have faith in you," Kitty admitted.

             "Faith?" Remy snorted, "what is faith?  A belief in something you can't prove," he pointed out.

             Kitty paused, taking this in, "alright, you're right, it IS a belief in something that I myself can't prove – but YOU could," she looked at him.  "If I can believe in you, why couldn't you believe in yourself?"

             Remy looked away, shaking his head softly, "b'cause its things like believin' in yourself that could end up bein' your undoin'.  I'm not gonna tell myself I'm somethin' I'm not just to let myself down," he growled, "been there, done that, bought the T-shirt," he uttered nonchalantly.

             Kitty sighed, "when you're ready to stop with the negativity and start realising you really belong with us, we'll be here for you."
             "Very good to know but I doubt I'll be here for you.  Petit, get a clue, the only thing I care for in life is saving my own ass, I couldn't give a shit about the X-Men, about Rogue, or about your 'friendship'."

             Kitty grew cold from his words, it was if she'd swallowed ice and it had just suddenly her stomach, she felt tears build in her eyes, "Rogue is right," she muttered, "You really are an asshole."

             "I ain't arguin'," Remy lit a cigarette. "Welcome to reality, petit, welcome to reality."